#ill fix that later i already shut my computer off

[vivitalks]

(whispers) me? rebrand? i don't know what you're talking about! ive always been stydia in disguise

[softprincesso]

✨ HOW TO BECOME A WEALTHY MIDDLE AGED MAN✨

PT.2: Overview to understanding different saving/retirement methods, investments, and forms of income

Pt. 2.2 Overview of Investments

Welcome lovelies to (what I hope will be) a helpful series on gaining wealth and becoming financially literate and independent!

Disclaimer: Check other posts. It's too long to keep typing out.

Now comes (what I believe) is the fun part of money. Making it grow.

Investments are defined as “an asset or item acquired with the goal of generating income or appreciation.” Essentially, anything you purchase with the belief that in time it will be worth more. This includes the entire stock market, cryptocurrencies, art, real estate, jewelry, vintage coins, designer bags, etc. Of course, some of these take more time and each comes with some amount of risk. These variables change according to your strategy as an investor.

✨THINGS TO KEEP IN MIND✨

Begin as a Beginner

Do not overwhelm yourself during your financial literacy journey by trying to learn everything, all at once, while also trying it all out. The thing that creates the most confusion when learning is believing the lie that you can multitask well. Yes, start with a brief overview of the systems and institutions (what we are currently doing in the series) but literally all you need to start is definitions and a gist so that you can comprehend how they connect later on. Learning an entire world that has never been taught to you is going to take time, and I’m talking years. And then, when you think you have something down your going to mess up or read an article about how the stock you saw yesterday for $6 is now $1000 and you’re going to be frustrated (this happens a lot). But, If you want to learn about the stock market, focus on the stock market. Retirement still scares you, focus on that until you master it and have a plan. And for Christ’s (or whatever deity/person/universe you believe in) if you do not have a steady stream of income do not put your last pennies trying to get into crypto (or any investing truly). This is something to start after you have income, a savings, a retirement, and have paid off at least most debts.

Recommended sources to learn more:

Netflix has a great series called “Explained” where (you guessed it) they explain things. While I recommend every episode because you can never learn too much, there are ones specifically dedicated to the stock market, cryptocurrencies, and billionaires each that helps to uncomplicate the history and purpose of each of these things.

✨Let’s get started✨

The Stock Market

“Stock markets are real and electronic exchanges that enable the buying and selling of securities. The most popular include the NYSE, Nasdaq MarketSite, and Tokyo Stock Exchange.” Let me, let you, in on a little secret-the stock market is essentially fantasy football (sorry, my American is showing) but with companies. When you buy a security, you are betting that (in the long run or short run, depending on your strategy) that a certain company will perform well and gain profits, which in turn will gain you money on what you bet. There are two categories of players in the market which include the assets (the football players) and the investors (the betting public). Of the assets you can categorize further by what position they play on the field…

Stocks

Most well-known, but the riskiest. The “star” player that everyone hypes up and takes all the credit. Stocks are fractional pieces of publicly traded companies, and by buying a stock you own a relative size of that company. They are either “paying you” through growth (when their stock price rises) or through dividends (when they send you a piece of their profits directly).

Mutual Funds

Less known but a safer bet than single stocks. Popular among those in middle age. “Mutual funds are baskets of stocks or bonds. They come in all different shapes and sizes, from covering broad stock market indexes to focusing on specific sectors.” When you buy a mutual fund, you are saying that you believe on average that pile of stocks/bonds are going to do well, instead of betting on a single player. Usually they are actively managed by people who are trying to “beat” the market for you. Statistically good for the short term, long term are less effective than ETFs.

Index Funds: a subset of mutual funds that are passively managed and track indexes like an ETF but trade like a mutual fund (once at the end of the day and without reliance of supply and demand)

ETFs

Exchange traded funds. The up-and-coming underdog that’s gaining popularity. These are passively managed baskets of stocks and bonds that track over a specific index like the S&P 500. They work like stocks, being traded throughout the day, relying on supply and demand, while giving a lot of the advantages that mutual funds do. They also come with their own set of disadvantages but are still a great way to diversify a portfolio inexpensively.

Bonds

The reliable bench players you know you can put in to save a game. Great safe bets that can generate a steady income. Bonds work like a loan for a regular person, except for a company. You can loan your money to a company which will pay you a principal plus a fixed interest back every specified period. There are different types which come with different advantages and strategies, so make sure to read the fine print.

Commodities

Tangible goods that go into manufacturing-Gold, oil, metals, corn, soybeans, etc. A good defensive team to have in the game for a hedge against inflation or economic troubles. They trade in a commodity exchange. You can still access them through most brokers.

Source to look into for deeper understanding and questions: https://www.investopedia.com/terms/i/investment.asp

Easy way to get started quickly:

1. Create a brokerage account: There are lots of accounts to choose from, but I would go for accounts that have zero fees and no minimum, this is starting to become the norm but once upon a time you had to give a minimum investment of $5000 to get started. I personally use Charles Schwab and Robinhood. I love all of the tools and accounts Schwab has and Robinhood is just easy to use.

2. Sign up: this may take a day or two to finalize, especially with banks but it shouldn’t be a big deal

3. Connect a card or account to transfer funds

4. Buy your first security: I would start off with simply looking up beginner investments on google. I recommend either an ETF, index fund, or choose a company that you have an interest in because you will be more likely to keep up on their news

5. Tip: think long term as a beginner. Sure, once you start learning and understanding you can change your strategy to gain more in a shorter time, but this comes with much more risk. Do not be an idiot and sell all of your stock when you see your investment plummet nor sell as soon as you see it go up a little. The best advice for a beginner: Buy a stock and leave it alone (for YEARS)

Property/Real Estate

There are many ways to invest in real estate-you can buy a property, you can invest in a property fund, you can become a landlord,or you can flip a property. Again, depending on the strategy, will change the risk and reward you have taken on. All of these options are usually on the more cash heavy side but can reap a lot of rewards if done right.

Source to look into:

https://www.nerdwallet.com/article/investing/5-ways-to-invest-in-real-estate

Easy way to get started quickly:

1. Buy a real estate ETF or fund, you can just look this up on google or through your brokerage

2. OR you could look into buying a property near you and renting it out if you have that much cash (Make sure to do your research, this can get pretty complicated)

Art

Also considered property but until recently it was incredibly hard to invest in art without significant cash and contacts available. Now, there are platforms like Masterworks where you can buy a fraction of a piece like a stock of Monet and you get the rise in appreciation. However, it still is for those with money already available, I believe you have to invest a minimum of $2500 to get started on MW.

Sources to look into: https://www.investopedia.com/articles/pf/08/fine-art.asp

Crypto

Cryptocurrencies are digital currencies that are not backed by real or tangible assets or goods, but on the trust and value of the people that use them, and supply and demand. They can be traded like stocks on an exchange and are tracked with a digital ledger on the blockchain. The first cryptocurrency was Bitcoin and the rest that have followed are categorized as altcoins (alternative coins).

The stage of cryptocurrencies we are in is likened to the early 90s with the internet. Not a lot people truly understand the blockchain (the vast ledger space which contains every transaction made securely in encrypted “blocks” that are then “chained” together so that if one block is compromised the whole chain shuts it down.) It is decentralized and written simultaneously on thousands of super computers. The beauty of it is that if one ledger on one computer is somehow hacked or wrong the rest of the computers storing the ledger interrupt and either fix it or shut it down. A way to understand it is blockchain is to the internet as bitcoin is to a website, but the internet runs off people trusting the system, blockchain runs off trusting no one.

The currencies that run on blockchain can have a multitude of purposes, but bitcoin was really just the starting solution to fix the problem of trust on the internet. People wanted a secure, anonymous, untraceable way to spend money online, like cash is in the real world. And while for the most part it is just that, it isn’t completely anonymous. Like in the real world if you buy something from Mcd*nalds with cash that transaction is still recorded in their system and through a receipt. Your crypto transactions are recorded in the blockchain, but most people don’t even know how to access the ledger so for now any ill*cit purchases you make are pretty safe.

I HIGHLY recommend looking into a cryptocurrency course or training just because there is so much that goes into it and lots of details that can help you. This investment is incredibly risky and volatile! I only would suggest investing an amount you are completely comfortable to lose ALL of.

Sources to learn more:

https://www.investopedia.com/cryptocurrency-4427699

Easy to get started quickly (Please dear lord do your research first):

1. Sign up on a crypto exchange like Coinbase or Binance, some brokers (like Robinhood) also allow you to trade crypto but it’s a very limited selection

2. Do lots of research!! (I’m going to say it until you get it, and I don’t think you get it yet)

3. Think of it like stocks, if you read up on the coin and its purpose, and think that it’s going to be useful soon or in the future, then invest

4. Tip: the crypto market moves MUCH faster than the stock market and is much more sensitive. In just these last few days (literally hours) bitcoin was trading at $40,000+, the following day, for whatever reason (people got scared, people wanted to sell to get profits, etc.) it will barely hold $33,000. So, invest wisely!

This is very brief list of the main investments. There is still a lot of depth each of these goes into and especially with things like crypto, information changes 24/7. I hope you have learned by now that you should be continually learning as well. Instead of spending your morning looking at your Instagram feed of bum friends, dusty men, and “models” spend it reading the paper and catching up on the market. Follow investors and billionaires like you follow celebrities and see how much smarter you become. At the end of the day winners focus on winning, losers focus on winners.

With love,

O

[worldserasingandcreatinginmymind]

Flesh & Blood | Part Two

Series Summary: A mysterious stranger with ties to your past shows up in your small village

Chapter Summary: a quiet village, every day like the one before... until a mysterious stranger arrives

Pairing: Count Dracula x reader

Word Count: 2126

Warnings: none

A/N: as always spelling and grammar is not my strongest skill so please be kind :) if you want to be added to the taglist please drop me a message in my ask box

Y/B/D = your birth date, Y/H/T = your home town 

Masterlist | Part One

- - - - -

2020

The shrill beeping of your alarm wakes you up with a jump. You groan and roll over, picking up your phone from the bedside table and hitting the snooze button before dropping it back down. You allow yourself to stay in bed for the next 5 minutes, but its not long before the alarm is reminding you it’s time to get up and start the day. 

An hour later you're ready and leaving for work. You close the front door of the cottage you live in and head down the hill toward the village high street, taking in the views of the sea as you walk. You’ve lived in this village for as long as you can remember, but the view still makes you smile. 

The high street is one main road that runs through the small village and is lined with shops either side. As you walk down the street you greet various other villagers opening up their shops for the day. You hold your breath as you pass the butchers so you cant smell the scent of the uncooked meat hanging in the window. Then you pass the florist and take a deep breath, floral scents flooding your senses. You stop when you reach the local clothes shop and see the owner cleaning up shattered glass.

“Morning Roger” you say and he turns to look at you with sad eyes “what happened?”

“oh someone broke in last night. Smashed the window and stole the suit straight off the mannequin” he points to the naked mannequin left standing in the broken window display.

“did they take anything else?” 

“Nothing. Not even a penny from the till. Just the one suit, thats it.”

“that’s weird. At least theres not too much damage though”

“I guess I should count myself lucky that it could have been much worse. Have a good day y/n” he says with a tired smile as he takes the bucket of broken glass inside the shop.

You pass a few more shops before you reach the door of the bakery cafe and swing the door open, the familiar scent of fresh baked bread and cakes fills the air.

“Morning Maggie” you call as you drop your bag behind the counter and head into the kitchen at the back.

“morning love” She responds, looking at you over the top of her flour covered glasses as she kneads dough on the counter. Maggie is an older lady, with a friendly wrinkled covered face and greying curly hair which was currently contained in a hairnet. She had always been like a grandmother to you, and since losing your parents she was the only family you had left. Apart from being a bit of a gossip, she was a really lovely lady and you love working for her and listening to her crazy conspiracy theories. “did you hear all the drama last night?”

“yeah I’ve just seen Roger outside, he told me all about the break in” you respond, grabbing your apron off the hook and tying it around your waist. 

“oh no I meant about the drama on the beach?”

“no? What happened?”

“oh it all kicked off. Helicopters, sirens, the works. You didn’t hear any of it from up the hill?” 

“nope, must have slept right through it.”

“you young people, you’ll sleep through anything” Maggie says putting another batch of bread in the oven “well you missed all the fun. They dragged a body out of the sea and-”

“a body?!” You interrupt.

“well according to Carol anyway. She said she heard from Jan that someone had reported a body on the beach. Her grandson works in the police so she finds out things from him. Anyway, the police raced down there straight away but when they got there the army had already arrived and told them to leave. Army outrank the local police apparently.”

“wow” 

“and thats not all. I ran into Nigel this morning in the supermarket. Nigel lives right by the beach and he said he heard a gunshot and a load of shouting last night. He looked out the window and saw a woman lying on the sand bleeding, and people in black uniforms running everywhere. Looked like there were chasing a man. He ran down to see if he could help but by the time he got there the beach was empty. No sign of anyone at all. Strange right?”

“very” you nod, trying to seem more interested “what do you think happened?”

“maybe it was a vampire” a mans voice suddenly speaks and you both turn around to see a tall man with jet black hair stood looking at you through the serving hatch. 

“a vampire? Now theres a suggestion I didn’t expect to hear” Maggie laughs and the stranger laughs back at her, but you get the feeling he wasn’t really joking. 

“What are you cooking back there? Something smells.. exceptionally good” he says, his dark eyes fixed on you.

“All sorts of magic happening in these ovens, but unfortunately we’re not actually open till 8am” Maggie replies in her usual customer service voice and she walks through into the shop. You stay back in the kitchen, mixing the dough for the next batch of bread. 

“oh I’m very sorry, I didn’t know. I’m new around here” you hear the man say, he talks like an old fashioned gentleman.

“no bother, it’s alright. If you want to take a menu and come back in half an hour we’ll be happy to serve you a slice of magic”

“wonderful. I’ll be back then.” You watch as he turns to leave, then stops. “see you later Y/N” he shouts through to you and your eyes go wide as he shuts the door behind him.

“ooh I think someone likes you” Maggie teases and she walks back into the kitchen.

“how did he know my name?” You say, not really asking but more thinking out loud. 

“hmm I don't know. Probably read it off your name tag” she replies casually as she carries on baking. 

You look down at the small name tag you forgot was attached to your apron and let out a small sigh. Of course that makes sense. But you couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach when you thought about the darkness in his eyes. 

— — — — 

The day was dragging. The usual customers came and went, each with their own theories about what had happened the night before. Maggie was happy to listen and share her own views with them but you ended up zoning out every time. Instead you wondered about the stranger from this morning. Who was he? He said he was new here, does that mean he’s staying or just passing through? Either way, something about him made you feel weird and you found yourself watching the door anxiously every time the little bell above it rang. 

You were clearing tables after the lunch rush before you could go on your own lunch break, when the door bell dinged and a woman you didn’t recognise walked in. 

“take a seat, I’ll be with you in a moment” you say politely as you carry a tray of dirty dishes and mugs into the kitchen. You pick up your little note pad and pen ready to go take her order when Maggie stops you. 

“its okay love, I’ll serve her. You have your lunch” she says gesturing to the plate of sandwiches she’s made for you then walking out into the cafe greeting the stranger in her usual loud and bubble manner. 

You smile and take the food out through the back door and take a seat on the grassy bank. The sunshine warms your skin as you tuck in to the delicious sandwiches which Maggie has packed with your favourite filling. Once you’ve finished eating you lie with your back on the grass, watching the seagulls fly high above you and the white clouds moving slowly across the perfect blue sky. 

You lie there daydreaming for a while but when a fly noisily buzzes past your face and makes you jump you sit up, swatting it away with your hand. You check the time on your watch, almost time to get back to work. You take a few deep breathes of the fresh air before standing up and brushing the grass off you. Something catches your attention in the corner of you eye and you turn to look. 

There he is. 

The stranger from this morning stood in the shade, leaning against a tree trunk. A shiver tickles down your spine and he smirks at you as the two of you lock eyes.

“Y/N love, could you come back in now?” Maggie calls, poking her head out the door.

“yes yeah ill be right there” you respond looking at her and she goes back inside. You look back over to the tree but he’s gone. Was he ever really there or is he just on your mind? 

You walk back into the kitchen, deep in thought. 

“are you alright love?” Maggie ask, concerned when she sees the look on your face.

“yeah I’m fine” you snap out of it and smile at her. You spot the unknown lady still sat at the same table she was at before you went on lunch. “she’s still here?”

“she asked if she could use our wifi to do some work on her computer, I said its fine as long as she buys something. Anyway, I’m just nipping out. Will you be okay to run things here for a while?”

“of course, see you in a bit” you smile as she heads out the front door. The lady looks up at you from her laptop and you smile, but she just looks back down and carries on working. 

Ten minutes later the cafe is empty apart from you and the mysterious lady. 

“excuse me, could I get two more coffees please?” She calls to you and you nod. 

“two? Sure yeah, coming up” you reply slightly confused. Two? Maybe someone is coming to join her. 

You make the coffees and carry them over to her, carefully placing them down on the table next to her laptop. 

“Thanks, this one’s yours. Will you sit?” she gestures to the chair opposite her.

“huh? Oh, no thank you. I cant, I’m working right now” 

“theres no one else in here. Just sit for a moment. I have something important to discuss with you” she says friendly enough but with a serious undertone.

“i don't understand-” you start

“Y/N Y/L/N. Born Y/B/D in Y/H/T, but moved here to this village when you were 4 years old and you’ve lived her ever since. Your parents died 5 years ago in a car crash and since then you’ve lived alone in your family home, the lovely little cottage up on that hill.”

“How do you know all of this?”

“Sister Y/N, your great great grandmother, was a nun in Saint Mary’s convent of Budapest in the late 1800’s. In 1897 every nun in that convent was slaughtered. All but three, your great great grandmother was one of them. She fled to England and started a new life. A family.”

“How do you know this?” You repeat, getting frustrated. 

“Because I am a direct descendant of one of the other survivors, Sister Agatha Van Helsing. I’m Dr Zoe Van Helsing”

“What, so, someone broke into a nunnery and killed everyone. But our ancestors got away?” You don't understand why any of this matters.

“not someone, something” she pauses “a vampire”

“a vampire?” You stare at her in disbelief and she nods. She’s not joking, she really believes this. “this is ridiculous, I don't know what game you're playing with me but I want no part of it” you say walking away from her. 

“this is not a game, this is real. Y/N, a vampire killed all those nuns back then, and now he’s back. He’s here, and I think he’s looking for you” 

Her words stop you dead in your tracks. 

“He could have killed her, Y/N, but he didn’t. He made the decision not to kill her and he let her go.” She continues and you turn to face her again. “it’s all here in this journal written by your great great grandmother. I think you should read it”

You slowly walk back over to her and take a seat at her table. She pushes a very old, slightly torn and battered journal across the table to you. You open it up to the bookmarked page and begin reading. 

“1897. 

It all started when the undead man arrived…”

Part Three

Taglist: @a-dorky-book-keeper​ @agent-smulder​

[joy1579]

RFA and how MC gets them to sleep

I hope ya’ll enjoy these. do I need to make a masterpost? since I’ve got a couple of these now I don’t know. their all pretty recent so maybe its not necessary. 

Jumin

-        You’ve gotten it down to a science at this point

-        “darling? I can’t sleep.” You call from the door way of his home office “do you mind reading to me? Like you did that first night?” that’s what gets him the mention of your first night with him.

-        “I, of course dearest” he says wearily placing a stack of papers to the side “just until you fall asleep though I do need to finish this”

-        You frowned a little at that. He hadn’t slept much these past weeks and when he did it was fitful and short lived. Tonight he would sleep. You would be sure of that.

-        “would you sit in bed with me? Just for a while? The bed is too big and cold for me to fall asleep without you.”

-        “you have plenty of blankets my love” he said narrowing his eye’s at you suspiciously

-        “it’s not about the blankets. I don’t love the blankets. I love you” then you saw it in his eye’s warmth, love and the tell tail signs of his resolve crumbling as he gave into your request. You didn’t like using his love for you like this but he had to sleep.

-        “I really can’t say no to you my love” he sighed following you towards the king sized bed you shared

-        “thank you honey bunny” you said pulling him to lay beside you leaning him against a pile of pillows so he was reclining enough to sleep comfortably but upright enough to read. Where he not so fatigued he may have questioned how you had planned it all so perfectly.

-        You handed him the book you two where currently reading and situated yourself against his chest humming happily

-        One chapter later and you could feel him running his fingers through your hair trying to see if you were awake

-        You stayed still careful to count your breath to keep it deep and slow

-        He sighed and settled himself a little before resigning to stay rather than wake you by leaving

-        After fifteen minutes you could hear his gentle and quite snores

-        Success.

-        The next morning you woke early and shut off his alarm before calling Jaehee

-        “mission accomplished Jaehee” you say smirking “he wont be in today but tomorrow he’ll be back to tip top shape”

-        “thank you MC. when he pushes himself this hard it often falls to me to fix the things his fatigue lets fall through the cracks. One day of rest saves us weeks of mistakes”

-        “a stitch in time saves nine as they say. Oh but I have to go if I’m not there when he wakes up he’ll try to go back to work”

-        “of course, and again thank you MC.”

  Yoosung

-        Honestly if you could just get him into bed you knew he would be out like a light

-        It was getting him to the bed that was difficult

-        So you played the last card in you deck, the ace.

-        “yoosungie? I’m going to shower and get ready for bed okay?”

-        “sounds good!”

-        “unless, maybe you wanted to join me?”

-        “jo- join you?” he spluttered turning away from his computer wide eyed and beet red

-        “well I thought, it might save time, and water and it might be fun.” With a wink you turned towards the bathroom where you already had everything prepared

-        Honestly the shared shower was simply a bonus to your plan

-        Call the fun times you shared a happy consequence of the plan.

-        You washed his hair with lavender scented shampoo to help you both relax and calm down

-        And on the way out you hand him the pajamas you had prepared

-        “you planned this”

-        “of course I planned this” you chuckled kissing his forehead “noona takes care of her puppy”

-        You could see his face darken and feel the shiver that ran down his spine at that and you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your lips at the way his eye’s seemed to cloud for a fraction of a second

-        You pressed a quick kiss to his lips before pulling him to the bedroom where you sat him on the bed to towel dry his hair a bit more

-        “I love you” he whispers and you smiled gently at him. Pulling the towel off his head you pulled him against you “I love you too”

-        Laughing you pulled him to lay beside you before leaning over him to reach across the bed and turn off the bedside lamp

-        With on last kiss on his nose you bid him goodnight computer game forgotten in haze of showers and cuddles (amongst other activities)

Saeyoung

-        He knows what you’re up to.

-        But you’re wearing the cute cat pajamas he had bought you.

-        and you had completely designed your bed time routine around tempting him to bed

-        he had never even heard of bedtime yoga before you moved in

-        yet there you where contorted beside the bed showing of how flexible you could be and occasionally smirking into the camera you knew he was watching

-        so it wasn’t long before he found himself making his way to the bedroom

-        “ready for bed secret agent man?” you quipped and couldn’t help a smirk as you saw his face tint a slight pink

-        “are you kitten me?” he shot back and you had to cover your moth to stop the giggles

-        “come on I’ve even got my paw-jamas on” you manage through your giggles

-        “you’re doing this on purr-pose aren’t you?”

-        “guess the cats out of the bag how’d you know?”

-        “just a feline” both of your where lost in a fit of laughter at that point

-        you pulled him to the bed and made note of the dark circles under his eyes as you pulled a heavy weighted blanket over you both before snuggling up next to him

-        he had insisted he didn’t need it. “I don’t have anxiety, MC” he had said.

-        Next day shipping and an extra good night of sleep later he admitted the weight was comforting

-        Your rans your fingers through his hair and mumbled quietly to him about your day.

-        You had found that the quiet talk down helped him relax as he curled into your chest

-        This was the only time you ever saw him this small

-        Wondered if it was a product of his childhood that he disliked sleeping so much

-        Still you held him close and played with his hair absently as you recounted the story of meeting a stray cat on the way home

-        After a while you ran out of stories and moved on to trying new jokes searching for the ones that drew sleepy chuckles from his lips

-        Lulling him to sleep was simple enough. The hard part came after

-        Falling asleep without waking him up was always a struggle

-        He was a notoriously light sleeper

-        One wrong move or strange noise had him jolting upright and alert

-        Once you had startled him awake with nothing more than a yawn

-        Perhaps it was his training that had him on such high alert.

-        You hoped that slowly but surely he would learn to relax a bit more but you understood it could take years if it happened at all

Zen

-        He knows he should sleep

-        He just can’t some times

-        He’ll lie awake for hours if you don’t help him relax

-        On these nights you two have settled into a routine

-        You make him tea and brush his hair

-        “you know you don’t have to do that jagiya”

-        “I enjoy it your hair is always so soft!”

-        “are you jealous?”

-        “I would be if you weren’t my boyfriend. That’s the thing though your MY boyfriend meaning technically your mine and by extension your hair is mine”

-        “is that how it works?”

-        You lean down and kiss the top of his head

-        “yep that’s how it works”

-        “does that mean your mine too”

-        “always and forever”

-        “your so cute jagi!

-        After tea you both go through your nightly routines washing your face and getting ready for bed

-        On good night you share a bath

-        You lean against his chest and lay your head back on his shoulders while you both do a face mask

-        in bed you ask him to sing you a lullaby as you gently trace patterns into his chest

-        You hum along contentedly and smile when he yawns

-        After while his singing drifts off and you can hear his breath get deeper

-        he can sleep through quite a bit but you know that the second you pull away from him he’ll be up in a second looking for the warmth and weight of you

-        so you pull the blankets tighter around the both of you and slip into sleep yourself

Jaehee

-        you got to start early with Jaehee

-        no caffeine after noon or it’s a lost cause

-        after opening the café this got 1000% harder

-        you lure her away from work by offering to watch a Zen DVD with her

-        you pull her against you on the couch and hum along with the music quietly (she hates it if you sing along but humming is fine)

-        slowly she starts to relax against your chest and you know it’s time to move upstairs (wink wink. Wait no. you both need rest save the winks for next time)

-        “Jaehee?” you ask gently “how bout we head to bed? We have to open early tomorrow”

-        She yawns bit but you can see the defiance in her eye’s

-        “I should finish a couple more things before”

-        “no” you say sternly pulling her toward the bedroom

-        “but there’s still paperwork”

-        “and it will still be there in the morning. Look ill work the morning by myself so you can take care of it then but you need sleep”

-        She sighs but fallows you none the less

-        “your right MC.”

-        “it happens sometimes” you laugh winking at her and reveling in her averted eye’s and blushing cheeks

-        (wink wink? No just one wink. You still need rest)

-        Once in bed you snuggle together and just before drifting off you hear her mumble

-        “I’m so glad we’re friend” “I’m so lucky to have you”

[iamtheempress]

A Vegeta x OC Fanfiction (part 4) ¤ ¤ ¤

Calamatta managed to roll out of bed and redress herself. Pulling on the suit and grabbing a spare to bring with her on her trip to To-Rot. Leaving her room she met with Nappa. "There she is!" He chugged a caffeinated hot beverage down like it was nothing, Raditz stood beside him counting his wad of cash and stuffing it in his armor. 

"Pay looks nice." She yawns and stretches making her cute tail curl and back arch abit. "37,000. Not bad but could be better. Vegeta got the most of it." Nappa nods and pushes the yawning female saiyan a mug of the hot beverage. "Thanks...gonna need it." "Damn right you are! Vegeta is still sleeping. Weird he said he was gonna get up before us.. eh whatever. Lets get your pod and stuff ready then well worry bout him." Nappa said as Calamatta shined off the mug and pushed it away.

Upon going to the pod, her coordinates were set and everything was packed into there Raditz, who was standing besides her piped up, leaning against the pod with his massive arms crossed. "Dont take this the wrong way Calamatta but… why are you so…" he moves his hands in an hour glass shape and tilts his head. Calamatta went wide eyed and fixed her suit where her ass is. 

"If thats how you flirt with women that was a strike out, good lord! And I have know idea why! Its just my body shape idiot…" she comments hearing Nappa wheeze as he fixes some wires within the pod, followed by him clanging his head leaving. "Im not! I d-dont flirt its just that… well… shes got… n-nice legs and … a great fa-" Calamatta thwipped her tail like a nervous cat. The bay door slid open and Raditz's poor excuse for flirtation was stopped DEAD in its tracks. "Stop harassing Calamatta on her body type Raditz, Saiyan women were given bodys to kill, shes built like a fine tuned weapon whether you see it or not." Vegeta points up at Raditz who scowled with a full face of blush. "Oh so you look at her too Vegeta?" Calamatta slaps her forehead and raises her voice flicking Raditz in the forehead for his really stupid comment. "Can yall stop talking about me like im not fuckin here??" She snapped annoyed and heard Nappa close up the oxygen port.

 "Ready boss?" She asked Vegeta, who nodded and got into his respective pod and punched in the coordinates manually. "Later guys!" She got in and Raditz and Nappa left the pod evac room. 

Vegeta's voice sparked to life on her scouter. "Theres a hidden base by the most recent Frieza Force there.. we should make it there in an hour so that will be our base of operation. No breaches from outside forces." She nods and for the 2nd time in her life the pod flew straight out of the mothership into the cold vacuum of space. 

She crossed her arms and watched Vegetas whiz right past her hurtling with effort and ease to the planet that only seemed to become larger.. if that wasnt already more possible.

 She marveled at it… it was amazing. It was a shame she was there for a job to do. 

It was under 50 minutes where there pods broke entry to the planets atmosphere, careening and becoming hot to the touch, cold metal heating up faster, and faster becoming scorching red hot. Then the mountain range came into view, with the ship in sight the two pods crashed right into a large cave system. 

Welding their pods into the hard rock walls to jut through with 0 damage just enough room for the pods to open on the opposite side of the mountain. Calamatta and Vegeta pushed the button to open the pod bay doors, they took one solid whif of the atmosphere and Cala sighed. "To-Rot huh.. so wheres the base ship?" Cala steps her boots onto the alien planets surface. "5 miles that way. Stay within the tree line, follow my lead." The prince cracks his neck and blasts away leaving a trail of dust and debris behind him.

 "Say no more.." she stated following close behind Vegeta. Vegetas eyes were trained ahead. Toa ship that was covered in dirt and over growth. He tapped his scouter to be sure. "Perfect.. no signs of power levels. Excellent!" He smirked, the prince and Calamatta landed outside of the ship. Vegeta punched in a code and they were both let in. "Good.. now.. lets have a look around. The recent failed mission logs should have data from their logs. Have a look around for food and whatever else when i find the log ill call for you"  Vegeta announced as the hangar door shut behind them locking followed by a robotic voice. 

'Systems Armed'

Calamatta turned on her heels and scampered to the back of the ship. Vegeta watched the eager Saiyan trot away, with a sigh and a roll of his eye he headed towards the command deck of the ship. 

Collected with dust and opened up first aid kits, Vegeta scanned the surrounding area cautiously. 3 lone scouters covered in blood sat on the front of the deck. An ominous reminder of the past couple of grunts who died here. 

He snagged the three up and turned to call for Calamatta "Found them! Get up here!"

Calamatta dropped this box of rations she found and walked quickly to the front to see him plugging in the scouters logs. An unfamiliar voice chimed to life. 

"F-Force log number 1, we have arrived at To-Rot, this area is to be our base of operation since the inhabitants cannot scale plateaus or fly. We will commence terraformation and return in a week." Vegeta clicked the 2nd video, a bead of sweat rolled down his forehead. 

"F-Force Log number 2… uhm.. Que, Roa, and Gil went missing yesterday. We have been here for 3 days now and i have seen hide nor tail of them... ill send a distress warning to the mother ship but i will go and find my crew." 

He pressed the last one and the room suddenly became much heavier. "F-Force number 3… i found my crew.. w-whats left of them…" he held up baren bones and armor. "This planets fucked up… if you know whats good for you send the Saiyans.. theyll do a better job.. i couldnt save my crew! This is Nutte signing off… i'm going to look for Roa.”

"Thats… not good.." Vegeta groaned and plugged in the next scouter, A new crew came up on the screen, a crew of ten. The crew was looking around, brows raised and sweat on their brow. “So we are the 4th crew to come to this planet alone, from what were aware these uh… the main population of this race is highly hostile and we need to utilize lethal force...Well update as we go along.” After that log there was no update, no commanders log. He stepped away and swiped a hand through his hair. “Last log…”  He clicked on it which was 7 full days ago. 

A Log List of all the times this one computer has been logged into popped up. It was far more then 4.

10 Crew lists came through. Crews of upwards of 5 being the smallest to 30 being the most. All vanished within days of arrival. All of them mentioning, to send someone stronger, someone more capable. The Saiyans, they begged for the Saiyans help and they were all sent on suicide missions back to back to back to back.

Vegeta slammed his hands down on the console making it glitch the screen. “Of course theyd call for us…dammit!” He barked and kept his back turned away from her. “So they sent them on suicide missions because… they didn’t want to send us?” She questioned, furrowing her brows trying to wrap her head around the situation. “Frieza didnt want to send me and the other two… He sent US on a suicide mission.” Vegeta turned quickly and stared daggers into Calamatta, the overwhelming feeling of concern rain heavy within her head, and sat uncomfortably in her stomach like something she shouldnt have eaten.

Vegeta crossed the room and pointed his finger right into her chest a deep growl emanating from behind his bared teeth. “He went and sent ME with YOU so we can both perish!” “Hey hey what the hell! Calm down abit, well make it out of here ill follow orders.” Vegeta’s vein popped out on his forehead, eyes narrowed furious.

 “Thats not my point. Your optimism is the closest thing we have to any cocky behavior! It doesnt surprise me why Frieza sent me to a month long mission..” She put up her hands and once again her heart sunk; she went wide eyed staring into the princes heartlessly infuriated black eyes.

Friezas words rattled in her skull ‘your life is as forfeit to me as it is Vegeta…’

“I dont get why he would send both of us to die.” He turned back around and walked to a table with a map on it. “You stood at Frieza’s side for as long as you have been able to speak, you wanted freedom from him, now you might as well see the harsh reality, he never had any good intentions for you Calamatta. He wants you dead, so much so hell send the both of us to a lethal planet to terraform on our own…” He said flatly, Calamatta remained silent her tail loosely hanging from her waist. Her dignity and pride feeling like it was oozing out of her very pores. “Now get over here and lets get an idea of the land… this moon has two moons and we have to plan accordingly.” The map is very detailed of the entirety of the planet from the red deserts to the lush green forests and then to the grayed out city scapes. All of them giant hot beds of activity, teaming with life as they knew it. 

His orders were direct and bland. Calamatta dragged her feet, depressed. Feeling less and less like a Saiyan by the moment, it wasnt so much Vegeta.. it was how quickly she was starting to realize Frieza was right, and goddamn did it grate her nerves to know that... The idea of freedom is going to be lightyears more heavier then she could imagine, shes not even close and this is what she has to deal with. Calamatta tightened her tail back up around her waist and listened to her Princes expertise plan of attack.

¤ ¤ ¤

Tags:  @memevember @dragonblobz @gonuclear @msgreenverse @fallen--lilith ​ @jimbobslurpnchug @dragonballcollector @nikabriefs @lilhemmo @supremeleadershitlord @thotful-writing ​ @chickiedinner @anti-jaina @lizardhipsdontlie @dragonball-hcs-or-sum-shit ​ @solidsock​

[a-singleboat]

Break-Ups and Make-Ups

Word Count: 2330

Request:  hi! I don´t know if you are taking requests, but if you are I was wondering if you could write something where reader and Damien Haas (or Shayne Topp) break up, so the rest of the smosh fam try to get them back together. Hope to hear from you soon - @lula132

The morning after a breakup was always the worst for you. As tradition dictated, you had hunkered down in your room for the night with a box of tissues on your right and a tub of ice cream clutched in your shaking hands with whatever sappy romance movie popped up first in the recommendation queue. 

You had fallen asleep with the now-melted ice cream tub in your arms and the movie credits rolling. In the morning, you felt like you had been hit with a train that had not stopped moving since. With just a few words, the past seven years of your life suddenly meant nothing and you were left alone. 

You capped the tub of ice cream and put it on your nightstand, swapping one comfort item for another and picked up your phone. The only notifications you had were a call from your mom and several Twitter notifications for fans that had mentioned you in their own tweets. 

You cast a glance to the clock and read that it was six in the morning, two hours before you had to be at work. You sat in your bed and debated if you should even go in for the day if you should call in a family emergency and take the day to travel up to San Francisco to spend the next few days with your parents. 

You shook your head and hopped off your bed, a new resolve set for yourself. You wouldn’t let this break-up force you into a shell. So what if Shayne Topp had broken your heart after seven years of loving you? You were still young and you had your whole life ahead of you, so what if seven years meant nothing in an ill-fated conversation. 

You flung the curtains open and took a moment to just look outside at the bus streets of Los Angeles. You moved to the city nearly eight years ago after being employed by Defy for Smosh. You started as a low-level editor and slowly made your way to head camera operator and editor for the Smosh Games section. You would oversee filming when it came to table games or punishments and edit what you could for any games played on the computer. You even had a short stint as stunt coordinator before it was decided that they needed someone with a little more expertise especially when it came to the safety of the cast.

However, you met Shayne when you had just moved to Los Angeles and when you started dating, it came as no surprise to anyone. The decision to stay in separate apartments came with the idea that while you both had loved each other oh-so-much, you both need your own space and neither of you could afford to buy anything bigger than the apartments you both had or a house together. 

Before you knew it, you had fully cleaned your room of any trace of the break down you had last night and were well on your way into the office. You called your mom on the drive there, using the conversation as a distraction so you wouldn’t have to think of him until you saw him. 

You got to the office at the same time that Courtney had and you barely managed a smile in her direction. You could tell that she could tell that something was off with you because she had that knowing look on her face. If there was anyone who knew you better than you knew yourself, it was Courtney. 

You brushed her off, saying that you had a rough night and asked her to help you carry some of the equipment that was still in your car from the last punishment you had to film outside. 

When you got in the elevator, you deemed it safe enough to share the details of your night. You put the box you had in your hands down and rubbed your eyes. You had skipped on make-up that day, knowing that you would mainly be editing and eventually the feeling of the product on your face would get you to become quickly annoyed. 

“Shayne and I broke up last night,” you confessed, breaking the silence. At first, you thought she didn’t hear you and you dreaded having to repeat yourself. When she put her own box down and engulfed you in a hug, you knew she heard. 

“I’m so sorry, what happened? Just yesterday you guys were so happy,” Courtney’s eyes grew wide and sympathetic. You were regretting telling her. 

“Yeah, I thought we were happy too and then he broke up with me out of nowhere. Of course, he was my ride home so I had to endure the awkward situation,” you picked up your box when the elevator doors opened on your floor. “Please don’t mention this to anyone yet.”

“Please don’t mention what to anyone?”

Damien Haas was your best friend next to Courtney. If you needed a laugh or even just a break from whatever you were doing he was there to provide a joke or a distraction. 

With his question, you had to think fast on your feet. “It’s nothing, I just wanted to go back to see my parents for a little but I wasn’t too sure when would be a good time so I didn’t want to mention it.” 

While that wasn’t completely a lie, Damien still looked skeptical. He read the look in your eye and slowly nodded, allowing that to be your answer. “Alright, if you say so.” 

You smiled at him wide and moved past him, leading Courtney to where all the filming equipment was stored when it wasn’t in use. She helped you put most of the equipment away before she brought up a point that you had been debating for a good while. 

“People are going to find out eventually, Y/n. You can’t just pretend that absolutely nothing happened,” Courtney sent you a pointed look. You pursed your lips and slid the last piece of equipment on the shelf. 

“I know, I just don’t want to make it into a big deal,” you shut the lights and closed the door behind you. You looked at the time on the clock on the wall. “You should get to costume, you start filming in an hour.”

She glanced at the clock and panicked for a second. “Just don’t isolate yourself, okay? And this isn’t something you need to keep from anyone. We’re all adults and if anyone gives you a hard time, that just means they still have some growing up to do,” she started to walk away, doing a half-backward, half-sideway walk. “We’ll go for lunch later and talk more, yeah?”

You nodded and confirmed the lunch plans, intending to go out for lunch anyway. After sorting through a few stacks of editing notes and creating a mental list of things you had to accomplish for the day, you headed into the room dubbed as the ‘editing cave,’ and prepared yourself to watch all the footage from this week’s episode of Maricraft. 

Shayne had woken up late that morning, distraught and a general mess. He arrived that the office, cutting it close by a mere two minutes and immediately getting himself to costuming. The velvet box weighed heavily in his backpack and despite how last night had played out, he couldn’t bring himself to take it out. 

When he sat down in the chair for the hairdresser to do his hair, Damien found his way to his side and poked his side. “So,” Damien wiggled his eyebrows. “How’d it go last night?”

All Shayne did was pull the box from his bag and hand it off to his friend. “Did she reject you? Is that what she and Courtney were talking about in the elevator this morning?”

“She and Courtney were in the elevator this morning?”

“Yeah, she told Courtney not to say anything about something and Y/n made an excuse about visiting her parents,” Damien noticed his friend’s distressed look. “Hey dude, you okay?”

“So, last night didn’t exactly go as planned,” Shayne wanted to fall in on himself. “I might have broken up with her instead of proposing.”

“What?” Damien was taken aback, blinking a few times to make sure he was awake at the moment. “You’re telling me that you got to the carnival last night, got onto the ferris wheel, and broke up with her on the top, and then had to drive her home right after that?”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what happened and I don’t know how to fix it and now Courtney knows which means a lot more people will know pretty soon and,” Shayne made a noise that was not unlike what a cat being strangled would sound like. 

Damien took some time to calm him down. “I’m sure that all this will take is a conversation with her. Y/n is a very reasonable person and I’m sure you can make it up to her.”

“I sure hope so,” Shayne caught Courtney’s eye. She was looking at him with a scowl on her face. Shayne sunk into his seat. “I think our first step is telling Courtney what happened, maybe she’ll know how to fix this.”

By the time lunch rolled around, Courtney was aware of the plan and was sent to fetch you for lunch. You had your headphones on, hyperfocused on a black-and-white clip of Damien. She lightly tapped on your shoulder causing you to jump slightly before settling down upon realizing that it was just Courtney. 

“You ready for lunch?” she asked, pulling out the seat next to you and sitting to watch your process. You clicked on the save button and saved the footage to an external hard drive as an extra precaution. You stored the hard drive in a small drawer on your desk before standing up and stretching. 

“Yeah, let me just tell Matt that I’m heading out and that I’ll have this Maricraft episode ready for posting when I get back,” you powered your computer down and grabbed your phone and wallet from under all the papers.

When you left the office and walked side-to-side with Courtney to her car, you were relieved for the slightly longer break you both would be getting. Not only were you ahead of schedule but Courtney’s next call wasn’t for another two hours. 

“Now I know you and Shayne just broke up, but we’re going to lunch with him and Damien.”

You looked at Courtney with a dead look in your eye. “I’m fine with it, just because we’re broken up doesn’t mean I can’t be civil.”

Shayne and Damien were already in the car, sitting side by side in the back which caused you to look confused. “I gave them my keys so they could start the car’s air condition before I got you,” she explained. 

The drive was an awkward one, the four of you decide to take the time to drive to a nicer Italian restaurant as you all had the time to spare. When you arrived and were seated, Courtney smacked her forehead and mentioned that she left her wallet in the car. Damien offered to go with her and that left her and Shayne at the table together. 

You played with your fork and avoided all eye contact with him for as long as you could. 

“Y/n,” he said. You slowly turned to face him, not wanting him to see the hurt in your eyes. There was something in his hands but you couldn’t discern what it was. 

“I never wanted to hurt you,” he explained and you let him, deciding that you would’ve had this conversation one way or another. “And I still never do want to hurt you but last night was the biggest mistake of my life. I didn’t bring you up to the top of the ferris wheel to break up with you. I just panicked and I wasn’t really thinking.”

“Shayne, you don’t owe me an explanation or anything,” you wanted to look away but he seemed like he still had more to say.

“I didn’t bring you up there to break up with you, in fact,” he opened what he was holding in his hands and you let out an audible gasp. You watched as he moved to get out of his chair and then kneel next to you. “I made a horrible mistake last night and while I’ll never know how it happened but I really wanted to get down on my knee last night and ask you this question.”

“Y/n, you’re a wonderful person and you’ll be a saint if you’ll even allow this. But I truly want to marry you. I promise I’ll never cause you any pain anymore and I’ll be apologizing for my mistake for the rest of my life. But, Y/n, will you marry me?”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you processed what was going on. On one hand, he had caused you the most emotional pain that you had ever gone through and on the other, he was trying so hard. You made up your mind, nodding vigorously and pulling him up from the floor as the restaurant patrons around your table clapped. 

He slipped the ring onto your finger as Courtney and Damien returned to your table, smirks on both of their faces. “You were both in on this, weren’t you?”

“We had some help,” Damien explained. “Ian overheard our conversation and he went to talk to Matt Raub to convince him to give us four an extra hour for lunch in case things went south and we had to do some drastic measures but everything turned out alright.”

“Remind me to thank Matt when we get back, but I think we should eat lunch while we’re here,” you laughed with your friends and at that moment, you knew everything would be alright.

[petri808]

A Forgotten Email

@inuvember for AU Day Inukag Continuation... part 1 here

Toga Inutaisho presses his intercom link to his secretary. “Ms. Higurashi, I have the reports ready for you.” He sits back smiling, waiting for the woman to come in to pick them up, because lately the amount of reports she needed to deliver to his son had increased and he was curious to know if that was irritating her.

As the young woman walks into his office, Toga carefully notes the annoyed look on her face, slightly hidden behind the fake smile. He turns his nose to the air, picking up on the traces of heightened adrenaline running through her veins. And who could miss the slight slump forward of her shoulders or fidgeting fingers resting near her stomach. Oh yes, Kagome looked perturbed about her errand.

But he couldn’t help himself. After all, Inuyasha was his son and after the young man had come to him panicked about how badly he’s botched their first lunch date, he felt a paternal need to ratchet up the amount of contact the two had. Of course, it came after a long counseling session about Inuyasha needing to fix things between Kagome and he, because regardless of the waning chemistry, they were colleagues and needed to get along. So now, a week later, it was obvious to Toga that his son was still failing to gain back her favor.

“Is something wrong my dear?” He asks Kagome as she takes the papers from his desk. “You seems a little down.”

“Oh, no Mr. Taisho, nothings wrong,” Kagome throws on an even wider smile in an effort to allay his concerns. “Maybe I’m just a bit tired today, that’s all.”

“Come now, Ms. Higurashi. If something is bothering you, I wouldn’t be a very good boss not to show concern.” Toga leans forward in his chair and rests his arms on the desk. “Please, tell me if anything, anything at all is bothering you.”

“I...” The sigh that leaves her lips causes Toga’s eyebrow to cock upward. Kagome realizes at that point there was no way she could hide it any longer. “I’m sorry Mr. Taisho. It’s just... Well that day Inuyasha took me out to lunch didn’t go as well as I’d hoped and now it feels awkward every time I have to see him.”

‘Awkward?’ It could have been a worse choice of words as far as Toga was concerned. Kagome seemed more torn than annoyed, and that was something he could work with. He leans back in his chair. “Tell me what my son did,” placing a faux annoyance in his tone, “it probably won’t surprise me.”

She fidgets a bit, nervously glancing around before taking a tentative seat on the edge of the couch. After a deep exhale, Kagome launches into a break down of their lunch. Inuyasha had been nervous, but that wasn’t unexpected, a little grumpy, at least that’s what she felt from him, almost annoyed that he was even there. “I just couldn’t tell if he’d agreed to shut me up...” moisture pools in her eyes. “I thought he wanted to go at first, I mean why would he have said yes if he didn’t want to?” She sighs, mumbling, “I must have miss read his cues...”

“What do you mean, what cues?” Toga questions her.

It brings a light flush to Kagome’s cheeks, “t-there was a... a strange spark between us the day we meet.” Kagome waves her hand as if erasing what she’d just said. “It was just all a mistake.” She says firmly, but with eyes still lowered to the floor, “maybe I had reminded him of someone because he called me by another persons name at lunch and when I tried to clarify, he cut me off abruptly, then rushed me back to the office. Now every time I have to see him, he won’t even look at me, barely even says more than thank you as I hand him the reports.” Kagome looks at her boss with pleading eyes, “couldn’t I just deliver the reports to Miroku instead? Please, I’d rather avoid Inuyasha if he doesn’t want to see me either.”

“Oh that idiot son of mine,” Toga mumbles and runs a hand down his face in annoyance. “Yes, for now just deliver the reports through Miroku, but I will deal with my son. He needs to make things right.” Toga stands and moves around his desk to help Kagome to her feet. “Don’t fret too much about this my dear. My son’s people skills need some work, but I promise you, he feels no ill will towards you.” He prompts her towards the door, “I will take care of everything.”

Kagome tips her head a bit confused by what her boss meant by make things right. Did Toga know more than he was letting on, like who the mystery person was? But she keeps her questions to herself for now. “O-Okay, thank you Mr. Taisho.”

“You’re welcome my dear.”

Once Toga is sure that Kagome is out of ear shot, he calls Inuyasha over the phone. “Son, I told you to fix things between you and from what I just heard it sounds like you haven’t done a damn thing!”

“What the hell are you bitching me out about now old man?! I said I fix it and I will but...”

“But nothing! You even left out the part that you called Kagome by your ex-fiancés name at lunch time! I can see why the woman feels awkward around you now!”

“What?! H-how do you... wait did Kagome tell you...”

“I asked her what was bothering her son. She still has no idea who Kikyo is but you owe her an explanation of that and why you were acting so strangely with her... hell son, the woman thinks you hate her.”

“Ahh, fuck...” Inuyasha groans on the other end of the line. “I didn’t mean to, I was just so fucking nervous I just... never mind, it’s too late now.”

“It is not too late. And I don’t care how you do it, but you need to suck it up, drop that pride of yours, and fix this!”

Inuyasha’s ears pin back at the sound of his fathers phone slamming down on the other end. His dad was obviously furious, but why, why was his dad so invested in him making amends with Ms. Higurashi? He hangs up his phone and cradles his head between his hands, propping it up on the desk. Ugh! It’s not like he had set out to have a bad lunch date, Inuyasha had wanted to make a good impression! He just... ‘fucked it up like every other date I go on...’

“Miroku get in here!” Inuyasha calls his co-worker.

“Ahh, perfect timing boss,” Miroku walks in and closes the door behind him, tossing the latest reports on Inuyasha’s desk. He smirks, “had a feeling I’d get called.”

“Wipe that grin off your face!” Inuyasha swipes at the papers indignantly, but quickly grimaces when he realizes it’s the reports Kagome normally delivers straight to him. So that’s why Miroku already knows something’s up. “Fuck, she brought these to you?”

“Your dad told her to bring it to me since you make her uncomfortable.”

Inuyasha flinches. Is it really that bad? ‘I make her uncomfortable?!’ He groans. “I don’t know how to deal with this.”

“Spill it boss, I can’t help if I don’t know what exactly happened between you two.” Miroku takes a seat. “I’m all ears.”

For the next 30 minutes Inuyasha tells his friend everything with coaxing through the hardest parts. He really didn’t like baring his private life to anyone, even a close friend, but it was the best option least his dad make his life miserable.

Miroku steeples his fingers, “I agree with your dad. You’ll need to apologize to Kagome and ask to start over again. And above all, keep that grumpy side of yourself in check.”

“Ugh! I know!” Inuyasha’s ears flatten as he buries his face in hands with a groan. He wasn’t a total idiot. In fact, not wanting to look like an idiot in front of her may have fueled what ended up looking that way anyways. He had stayed quiet through much of the lunch in fear of saying the wrong thing, but it came off grumpy instead. Then in an effort to make conversation, his ex’s name slipped out. He couldn’t help it! His nerves were frayed by that point, and Kagome did look a little like her. Not to say that she was anything like Kikyo, considering Kagome was a ray of sunshine compared to his ex’s fridged demeanor.

“Look boss,” Miroku leans into the frustrated Hanyo, “Kagome seems like the type to appreciate nice gestures. Try apologizing with flowers, beg her for a second date to make it up to her. Hell, make your ears whither down like now,” he chuckles, “I bet that’ll crack her.”

“You think so?” Inuyasha perks up, along with his ears.

Miroku chuckles, “she did love the ears...”

Bright and early the following morning, Inuyasha gets to the office before anyone else. He had no idea what kind of flowers Kagome may like so he asked the shop owner who suggested purple hyacinths. So with that in tow, he picks up some fresh scones and sneaks into Kagome’s office to place them on her desk. He turns on her computer and pulls up her email page. Their first meeting started with an email, why not begin anew with one.

But as his fingers hover over the keyboard, his mind blanks out. What should he say? Inuyasha was never good with words, especially mushy stuff. After a few seconds of internal bickering, his fingers click away at the keys. “Good morning....” erase, erase. “Hi Kagome, I just wanted to say...” erase, “apologize for the luncheon. I shouldn’t have behaved...” erase, erase, erase, “I’d like to...” Inuyasha groans under his breath. “Could we please talk? I never meant to make you feel uncomfortable I’m just so nervous when it comes to...”

A light gasp tickles his hearing, and when Inuyasha looks up, he locks eyes with its purveyor. “K-Kagome?!”

“Why are you in my office?! First you make me feel weird at lunch now you’re sneaking through my computer?! What’s next, you’re gonna stalk me to my apartment?!”

Inuyasha’s ears pin down, “I’m not doing anything like that woman, just let me explain!”

“You just wait till I tell your father.” Kagome turns in a huff and starts stomping away.

Quick in two bounds, the hanyo catches up and grabs her by the arm, “hey wait a minute, it’s not what you think!”

“Let me go!” She shrieks, pulling around his grip. “You’re hurting me!”

He lets her go but instead of releasing her, physically scoops her into his arms and runs back to her office with her screaming the entire way.

“You’re mad! Put me down!”

When he gets back to her desk, Inuyasha finally places her on her feet, forcing her to face the computer screen. “Just read it wench!” He grits his teeth in a desperate attempt to calm his racing heart. “I was trying to freaking apologize!”

It was only at that last word that Kagome notices the small bouquet of flowers and little white bag. She looks at the screen, her shoulders drooping with every word she reads. He wasn’t lying. But as Kagome focuses on the message, a dejected Inuyasha quietly makes his escape, so when she looks up to respond, he was gone. Sure it was weird walking in on him in her office, but if she’d taken a second to assess the whole situation before jumping to conclusions... Now she felt like the jerk.

Kagome searches frantically for Inuyasha at work, but couldn’t find him. He wasn’t in his office, hiding in Miroku’s, not even the bathrooms as far as she could tell. So, the moment her boss arrives, she feigns illness and goes home unsure of what to do next to call Sango for help.

“Oh, thank goodness you answered,” Kagome breathes out a sigh of relief at her friends voice before launching into her morning without giving the other woman any chance to interject.

“And when I looked up he was gone.” Her emotions were all over the place. Kagome wanted to cry and scream at the same time. So far, the tears were winning.

“Just calm down, take some deep breaths, we’ll figure this out okay.”

“But I don’t know what to do! I really can’t face him now.”

“Do you want to see him again?”

Her heart said yes, but her brain was screaming no. Kagome closes her eyes. What would her mother tell her to do? Be the bigger person. “Yes...” she sighs, “I should at least apologize properly.”

“In that case, he’s with Miroku.”

“How do you know?!”

“He called just before Miroku left for work and asked him to go to Jinenji’s. They’re probably still there. If not, I’m sure you could ask my husband where to find him.”

“Oh, the cafe? I know that place, the owner’s really nice.” Kagome shifts the phone as she wipes at her face and puts her shoes back on. “Thanks Sango! Wish me luck!”

Sango laughs on the other end. “Anytime.”

The five block walk from her apartment to the cafe gave Kagome some time to figure out what she was going to say once she’d found Inuyasha. She wasn’t about to grovel at his feet because he’d had some of it coming for putting her on edge in the first place, but even her mother would have scolded her for reacting so harshly without thinking first. But why had he chosen to leave that message the way he had? Inuyasha could have left the flowers and sent the email from the safety of his own office. It made little sense to her except maybe he’d made the decision on the spur of the moment.

When she arrives at the cafe, a quick scan of the room easily spies the pair of fluffy ears from a booth towards the rear. Inuyasha’s back was facing her, but she could see Miroku. She swore that man had some kind of sixth sense for female energy, because he spotted her seconds after walking in the door and waved her over. From her vantage, Kagome could see a heated conversation and Inuyasha’s whole body tense up, but ears fold down in submission. As soon as she gets to the table, Miroku slides out and motions for her to join them.

Once Kagome slides in towards the middle of the U-shaped booth, he rejoins and sits. “I hope you don’t mind Kagome, but I think I’ll stay in case I need to play mediator.”

She looks at Inuyasha who is avoiding eye contact, then back to Miroku. In a quiet voice she responds, her eyes averting to the table. “That’s probably a good idea.”

Miroku clears his voice, “Good, then I’m just going to say one thing before I let you two hash this out.” He chuckles, “you let your emotions get the better of you, it happens, but now it’s time to move forward.”

“I’ll...” Kagome takes a deep breath. “I guess I’ll start. I’m very sorry for how I behaved Inuyasha. I shouldn’t have jumped to any conclusions without giving you an opportunity to explain what you were doing in my office.”

“No it’s my fault,” the hanyo’s ears wilt. “It was cowardly to leave that apology on your computer. I should have just talked to you like a normal person.”

“Why did you do that? Are you afraid of me?” Her eyes implore for a satisfactory reason.

“No!” He turns away. “I mean maybe a little... but not because of you! I-I’m just not good at this kind of stuff.” Inuyasha’s cheeks heat up in embarrassment. “Especially when talking to women.” He sighs, “at that luncheon I kept quiet cause I was so nervous. But I didn’t realize I came off grumpy.”

“Grumpy... Tch, I could have ignored that until you decided to call me by another woman’s name. That made me feel so awkward, and I started to wonder if you had some girlfriend or something that made our lunch taboo.”

“Huh?! N-No!” Inuyasha waves his hand frantically, “that was all a big mistake! I got flustered and the name just popped out...”

“Then who is she?” Kagome leans in closer, more curious than ever as to who the mystery person was.

Both men pick up immediately at the disdain dripping in her tone. Her interest had quickly switched from the office to this woman. Miroku gives Inuyasha a knowing look of I told you so, to which the hanyo replies with a kick to the man’s shin under the table. But his friend was right about Kagome’s vested response of another possible woman in Inuyasha’s life. She didn’t like the idea.

“Kikyo is my ex-fiancé and you look a little bit like her. I apologize that in my frazzled state I mixed up your names. But you don’t need to worry about her, she’s long out of the picture.”

“Why would I be worried,” Kagome crosses her arms to cover up the goosebumps gleaned not from cold, but maybe excitement. Of course, she cared! She shouldn’t, but she did. It had been a long time since silly teenage emotions got the best of her, and yet here she was, suffering from it once again. “It’s not like we’re dating.”

The woman sitting beside him was practically bursting with unseen energy waves and her act of nonchalance just a facade. It gave his ego a boost to know Kagome was feeling something. How bout he entrench it further. “Right, not dating, of course, but regardless, she’s of no concern. Long over with, never want to see or deal with her ever again,” he shivers at the notion, “I’d rather erase those memories from my mind and replace them with new ones.” Thanks for that line Miroku. Inuyasha straightens out and sticks his hand out towards her as a gesture. “Lets just started over, huh?”

“Deal!” She shakes his hand. “By the way,” Kagome blushes, “thank you for the flowers.”

“Was nothing,” Inuyasha mumbles in embarrassment and a blush. “The florist told me it’s for forgiveness.”

Her eyes widen a tad at the knowledge he’d gone so far not to just pick a random flower she may or may not like, but one with a meaning behind it. So, his exterior facade really did hold a caring side beneath it. Kagome smiles, and sees the tension releasing from Inuyasha’s shoulders. “Well they are beautiful and it’s safe to say we... forgive each other?”

“Yeah,” Inuyasha smiles back. He finally felt all the weight lift. Now all he had to do was not screw up again. He glances at Miroku who takes the hint and leaves. “How about we try the lunch thing again right now since we’re already here?”

Kagome watches their co-worker walk away, and now alone with Inuyasha, the nervous energy sweeps back in. Her face of a lightly heated surface blooms a darker shade of pink. “I’d really like that...”

Outside of the restaurant, Miroku watches as Kagome scoots closer to Inuyasha and breathes a sigh of relief. “Crisis averted boss,” he calls Toga on the phone. “Your operation grand babies is back on track...”

[ladyfogg]

May I? - 1/?

May I? - 1/?

Fic Summary: Ensign Faith Diaz struggles to hide her mental illness from her fellow shipmates aboard the Enterprise until an intrigued Data goes out of his way to try to understand her behavior. At his insistence, Faith tries to figure out what she's truly passionate about and eventually seeks the professional help she needs. Fic Masterpost.

Fic Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Data/Female OC

Warnings: tw: depression, tw: anxiety, fluff, friends to lovers, eventual smut

A/N: Hey guys! I have this fic posted over on AO3 already but thought I’d post it here as well. Currently there are 12 chapters. This fic is ongoing and while I have a clear arc/story in the works, I haven’t decided when it will end. I’m just kind of going with it. This story has been my support fic throughout this whole fucking quarantine mess and I’ve been having a lot of fun writing it. I’ll be posting all the chapters so far throughout the week. 

It may seem that everyday something happens aboard the Enterprise. It was almost like every week it was an invasion, a messy political shift, a weird time distortion loop, hostile negotiations...the list went on and on. However, in reality, there was a lot of time when nothing happened. When the ship glided through space effortlessly and the crew fell into a steady routine. Occasionally, they stopped at a planet to gather samples or map it. But other than that, all was quiet. 

It was on one of those routine days that Data found himself in Engineering, helping Geordi with several re-calibrations. They were minor modifications the two had wanted to implement for some time yet had not been able to.

All had gone according to plan and they were in the process of completing their work when Geordi stood up straight, a triumphant smile on his face.

"All set," he declared. "The conductors are functioning five-percent higher than normal. We should run a level one diagnostic just to be sure but there shouldn't be any issues."

"I agree. Readings are well within standard parameters," Data concluded, fingers dancing across the console. 

"I asked Diaz to do a manual sweep just to be sure," Geordi said. "I haven't heard from her yet but it doesn't seem like anything is out of place." He tapped his communicator. "La Forge to Ensign Diaz, what's the status of your sweep?"

Geordi waited for a response but one did not come. He tapped his communicator again. "Ensign Diaz, report!"

Nothing.

Data had only known Ensign Diaz in passing but he recalled Geordi's increasing frustration with the new crew member. She did not seem to have the same level of skills as some of her fellow engineers and her behavior had been less than exemplary.

"Where is she?" Geordi muttered. "Computer, locate Ensign Diaz."

" Ensign Diaz is located in Jefferies Tube 42B."

"Now what the hell is she doing in there?" Geordi said with exasperation. "And why isn't she answering?"

Data cocked his head as he ran through all possible scenarios. "I have calculated two hundred and thirty possible reasons for Ensign Diaz's behavior. One, she found a structural issue that she decided to correct. Two, one of the conductors may be showing signs of stress the computer cannot detect. Three—"

"Thanks, Data. I get it," Geordi cut him off. "Well, whatever the reason, I'm going to find out what's going on."

He had barely taken a step away from the console when his own communicator beeped. "Riker to La Forge, meet me in Transporter Room One. Prepare to beam to the planet's surface."

Geordi sighed but responded, "Aye, Commander. On my way."

Data saw Geordi glance in the direction Ensign Diaz had gone. "I am not required on the Bridge until oh-eight hundred hours. I can locate Ensign Diaz for you," he offered.

Geordi looked relieved and gave his best friend a smile. "That'd be great, thanks, Data. I'll be back as soon as I can." He gave him a pat on the back as he walked by. 

Data finished his work a second later before heading to the tubes. He found one of them already open and climbed inside. 

He did not see any signs of the ensign so he proceeded forward. 

"Ensign Diaz?" he called, his voice echoing off the metallic walks around him. 

He came across her communicator a short distance away, sitting at the bottom of a ladder. Frowning, Data picked it up and examined it. It did not look damaged and a quick diagnostic revealed it was in working order. He continued his search.

When he climbed the ladder, he was met with the sight of Ensign Diaz, deeply engrossed in one of the panels on the wall.

"Ensign Diaz?" he asked.

She spun around in surprise. Once she realized who spoke, she tried to straighten up, though it was difficult in such a tight space. 

"Commander Data! What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question." Data held up her communicator. "I found this in the shaft behind us. I believe it is yours."

Diaz touched the spot on her uniform where it should have been as if she had not known it was missing.

"Thank you. It must have slipped off when I was climbing." She took it from him, pinning it back in place.

"Why are you in the tubes? Commander La Forge asked me to find you. He said you were told to do a manual sweep."

"I was a-and I did," Diaz stuttered, tucking a loose strand of dark hair back into her braid. "While I was doing so, I noticed one of the panels was out of alignment. Physically. I-I tried to correct it. It wouldn't budge so I decided to try to get it from the other side."

"I see." Data moved forward to check her work. Sure enough, he could see where the unit was off-center. "Most curious. That should not be possible."

"That's what I thought. But I can't seem to get it back into place." 

Data knew what was going to happen before it did. Yet even with his quick reflexes, he was not able to prevent the accident. 

Diaz did not have a proper grip on the part when she tugged on it. She had been perspiring and as a result, her hands slipped. The momentum sent her forward, where she smashed her head on the metal edge of the unit.

She screamed in pain, hand pressed to the spot as Data pulled her away. "Son of a bitch!" she exclaimed.

"Are you alright?" Data asked.

"Aside from seeing stars, I think so. Let's just fix the stupid thing and get out of here."

"I will handle it." Data carefully released Diaz, letting her rest against the tube wall while he took her place. Within seconds he fixed the situation, securing the unit into its proper position before determining it was in perfect working condition.

"My readings indicate everything is in working order," he said as he moved his tricorder over the unit. "Good work, Ensign."

"Thanks," Diaz said, removing her hand from her head.

Data looked at her, only to realize her forehead was smeared with blood.

"Ensign Diaz, you are bleeding."

"What? No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are. I believe you injured yourself when you hit your head."

"It's not that…" She looked at her hand, the color draining from her face when she saw blood on her palm. "...bad."

Data put his recorder in his pocket and made a move to tap his communicator but she stopped him. 

"No, wait! Don't!"

"Ensign, you are bleeding. I must contact sickbay."

"Honestly, I'm okay. I just need something to wipe up the blood. I'll be fine."

"I insist."

Diaz sighed and Data noted her eyes looked glossy. He wondered if the injury was more severe than she was letting on. 

"Let's at least get out of this stupid tube," she said. "I promise I'll walk there myself."

"That would be acceptable. As a precaution, I will accompany you to Dr. Crusher."

He motioned for her to move ahead and the pair began to backtrack. It was slow work as Diaz was careful not to leave a trail of bloody handprints in their path. When it came time to climb the ladder, Data insisted on going first so he could monitor her in case she needed help. 

He kept his eyes on Diaz, looking for any signs of distress while she descended. He noted her balance was unsteady. She rocked slightly and had to pause several times. During one of those times, she shut her eyes, arms wrapped around the rung in front of her.

"Ensign Diaz—"

"Please, call me, Faith. I never liked formal titles very much."

"As you wish. Faith, are you experiencing dizziness?"

"Sir, I'm fine."

Data found himself making a noise of disbelief. "No. You are not."

Faith cracked her eyes open, glancing down at him and Data saw her arms trembling as she tried to keep herself up. "Commander?"

"Yes?"

"I think I might pass out."

Her eyes rolled back in her head and her grip loosened, sending her tumbling off the ladder. For the second time, Data caught her in his arms. Quickly he tapped his communicator.

"Data to Transporter Room Two. I need immediate transport for two to sickbay. Current location Jefferies Tube 42B."

"Aye, Commander!" O'Brien's voice answered. "I'll have you there in a jiff."

A second later, Data found himself standing in the middle of sickbay, Faith's limp body in his arms. Dr. Crusher whirled around, eyes widening when she saw them.

In an instant she was at their side, scanning Faith. "What happened?" she demanded.

"Faith hit her head. She became weak and lost consciousness."

"How long ago?"

"The injury took place approximately ten minutes ago. She has been unconscious for thirty seconds."

"Data, get her up on the bed for me."

As he carried her across the room, her eyes fluttered open.

"Ugh, where am I?"

"You are in sickbay," he answered, gently lowering her down onto one of the beds.

"What happened?"

"Do you not remember hitting your head?"

Faith's eyes closed and she swallowed thickly, her head lolling from side to side. "It's all fuzzy." She grew still again.

"Faith? It's Dr. Crusher. I need you to open your eyes again. Can you do that for me?" When there was no answer, Beverly injected Faith with something while handing Data a towel. "Data, press this to her wound while I get my dermal regenerator. We have to stop the bleeding."

"Yes, Doctor."

Data did as he was told, pushing Faith's bangs back from her face so he could see the wound properly. It was deeper than he initially noticed. He pressed the towel to it, noting how much paler she had become in such a short period of time.

Beverly reappeared a moment later. He stepped aside so she could work, watching with rapt attention as she peeled the towel away before spraying the wound with antibacterial ointment. Once it was clean, she carefully sealed up the wound, leaving nothing but smeared blood in its place.

"That's done at least," she muttered to herself. She picked up her tricorder and resumed scanning the young woman.

"Will Faith be alright, Doctor?"

"She should be. According to my readings, she has a concussion. I recommend she be taken off duty for the time being."

"A smart recommendation."

Beverly finished scanning Faith, but this time her mouth deepened into a frown. "Hmm…" She scanned her again.

"Is something wrong?" Data asked.

It took a moment for the doctor to acknowledge his question. When she did, Beverly gave him a tight smile. "Nothing you need to worry about. Thank you for your help, Data. I can take it from here. You're free to go."

"I have already created a formal report of the accident. I will send it to you now for your records."

"That'd be great, thanks. And I'll let Geordi know not to expect Faith for a few days."

"Excellent. Have a good day, Doctor."

Data took his leave, but something came over him and made him pause, turning to look back. Faith was still unconscious and Dr. Crusher was staring at her as if deep in thought. Her expression was one Data had come to associate with that of concern.

However, he had duties to attend to. So he left sickbay and filed the incident for later review.

[nikoalaa]

usually this is something i’d post on a side blog with no tags or followers (just to get out of my head), but i think this time i want the possibility of someone helping. idk how long this will be but i’ll put it under a read more when i’m on my computer.

i’ve been struggling more lately. idk if it’s just the pandemic and quarantine and everything getting to me, but this has all been happening before too, just maybe not as often. i’m more anxious, i’m more depressed, i want to shut myself away from friends and not leave my house much unless it’s a quick trip somewhere by myself. i’m so tired all the time. i’m just so, so exhausted. and since i’m home a lot with nothing to do, i’ll sleep. my schedule is so messed up. i sleep basically 5am-2pm and then sometimes still take a nap. like today i slept 5 or 6 am- 2, woke up and had something small to eat, sat at my computer and then slept again 6:30pm-9pm. i jokingly call this my “unemployed schedule” with my parents, but i think they just think i’m lazy.

and speaking of them, i think a lot of my problems i have with myself would be nonexistent if i just had good parents. my crooked teeth wouldn’t be an issue if my dad didn’t hate doctors and was scared of the dentist, therefore never making appointments for me or my brother, resulting in us both not having good teeth. my weight and unhealthy relationship to food wouldn’t be an issue if my mom would have just made me eat a god damn vegetable when i was a kid instead of just giving me chicken nuggets so i would stop whining. and when i was chubbier then other kids, instead of herself trying to fix my diet by actually cooking healthy food and making me eat it, she made me see a doctor and go to group sessions of other kids in similar situations (that i was very uncomfortable going to, to the point of me crying, but she forced me to go anyway). which none of that helped anyway, it just made me self conscious about eating so i now hate food and when i do eat in public, i feel gross and that people are staring at me. and now my body has tricked itself that if i’m out in public, i can only eat very little or else i get sick and throw up. and my mental illness could be in check if my parents just put in any effort. they’ve been aware of my depression since i was in 3rd grade (which my mom would phrase as “you don’t seem as happy anymore”) and i recall having anxiety since kindergarten. i get that we didn’t have a lot of money when i was growing up, so maybe they just made me see the guidance counselor every friday for two school years. which is fine, that’s what they could do and it was at least something idk. but after that it’s like they stopped caring. i went on to public school after that and i hated it. i constantly would go to the nurses office in 5th grade and pretend being sick so my mom could pick me up or some how get me home. that should have been a red flag. or whenever my dad asked me how my day was and i never said “good”, another red flag. i was so depressed for the rest of my time in public school, and they didn’t do anything. sure i would join clubs or play sports to try to make myself happy and have fun, but it wasn’t ever enough. high school was even worse. i was angry all the time. just that angry emo kid sat in the back of the class. and eventually i lost almost all my friends. i started cutting, but i kept it hidden until i got changed after gym class one day. someone i was kinda friends with spotted the cuts on my upper arm. they gave me a knowing look and asked what happened. i said my dog scratched me. but it was way too many cuts and too dark to be dog scratches. but they didn’t ask again and i was grateful because i didn’t want help at the time. rest of school went on, the cutting stopped (or at least stopped being as frequent. relapses now and again), had panic attacks before and during school (that i always seemed like a burden for having when my mom had to deal with it), then i had a manipulative friend/ex gf i’m not even going to get into rn. long section short, my parents knew i was struggling. they would mention it off handedly. “you didn’t seem as happy” “we saw their was something going on” stuff like that. but they did nothing to help me. never asked questions, never talked to me, never asked if i needed help or someone else to talk to.

after highschool the panic attacks weren’t as frequent, but the depression was there. and they knew it. because even now and then i would bring it up, especially when i was having a breakdown. i would tell them i need help, i need a therapist and i need medication. she said (because it was always my mom i would go to) that she would see what she could do. then nothing happened. another time, full break down, and i fully told her i am suffering and i need help. she made me feel like such a burden and an inconvenience. she said she had no idea how to get me a therapist. no idea where to start. so i told her, mainly yelled, to ask this one lady we know (someone who had actually done more for my mental health than my own mother) for advice because i know her two kids go to therapy and stuff. she said she would try but she never did. few weeks ago, i have the biggest panic attack i’ve had in a while. full hyperventilating, almost going to throw up, all because there was a bug in my room trapped under a bowl. that is not healthy. i’m sobbing and gasping for air as my dad is trying to get the fast bug off the floor but not lose it, and once it’s gone i’m in bed sobbing and heaving and my whole body is twitching uncontrollably. she thinks she’s hot shit because she did that “5 things you can touch” bull shit once i was starting to calm. nothing again after that. what they did, they bought a hand vacuum so i could catch bugs myself. i guess so i won’t have to bother them at 4 in the morning and again freaking the fuck out. all in all, if they got me therapy as a teen and i had meds, i probably would be much much much better off. i won’t even go into the trans stuff rn. i think they think it went away because they ignored it and i don’t talk about it with them. even tho in the rest of the world away from family, i go by my chosen name and my friend calls me “he”. but it’s been almost 4 years, if not already 5 years, since i came out to them. they said they looked up therapy and stuff but again, nothing ever happened. i joke with my parents and say they’re lucky i don’t steal my dogs prozac and they laugh. i know it’s exactly the one used for people because it’s the same exact one my ex took. these days i’m starting to see things out of the corner of my eye, but nothing is there. i tell my mom i think i have adhd or something because i’ve read symptoms and it would make sense. and i also don’t remember a time where my head wouldn’t just be quiet. even now. it never is. but she says i was tested and they didn’t say i had adhd. when i was 7... and it’s misdiagnosed in afab people... and especially since i was anxious as a child.. and nervous around the lady who tested me. when. i. was. 7. shit develops later in life. but she won’t believe me because she says she’s trained to see the signs for her work. but then she’ll bring up how my uncle, grandma, and dad, are like the poster kids for adhd. and she just won’t believe me.

i’m really struggling with just everything. and i feel guilty that i’m even struggling and “feeling bad”. i’m a white kid from the philly suburbs. everything could be much much worse for me. but then again, i know thinking like this isn’t good for me. just because it could be worse, doesn’t mean it still can’t be a hell of a lot better too. i just want to be okay. i want to be healthy and happy. i’ve never really gotten to experience it all. my happiness seems fake and it fades away. my idea of health is “going to the gym and the right amount of anorexia.” i know that’s not healthy but that’s just the only way i know. my mom doesn’t seem to care anyway. i tell her that when i am working or i was in school, i would only have like one meal a day. she didn’t say a thing. i just want to be happy. i don’t want to die. i really don’t. i hate being alive but like, i’m already here. i’m not going to take myself out. but it’s just so hard to exist a lot of the time. idk how i’ve done it this long. and i can tell it’s gonna get bad again because i tried to cut myself a few nights ago. the knife wasn’t sharp enough to really make a mark but i had no energy to keep trying. i really need help but idk what to do anymore.

[jayalaw]

Brooklyn Nine Nine: The Heist Aftermath (Spoilers)

@ashleybenlove

It was normal for Jake to be late. The 99 knew that. He had gotten better about it, however, after marrying Amy. That was why what she said surprised them.

"Jake's not coming in today," Amy said, using the same voice she did when having to tell Holt that a murder suspect had lawyered up and gotten away without confessing. "He had to go to the hospital."

"What?" Boyle stood up. "Did he get injured? Is he sick? I'll donate my kidneys if he needs them."

"He's sick," Amy said. "But no, he doesn't need a kidney."

"We can donate fingers," Rosa said. "Or any limbs. I know a guy."

"Okay, that's creepy and he doesn't need fingers." Amy walked towards her desk.

"Which hospital is it?" Scully asked. "I can recommend twenty to thirty doctors at the Brooklyn University Center. They love writing papers about me."

"He's at Interfaith Medical." Amy plastered a smile on her face. "He won't be ready for visitors for a while. He's sick but doesn't have a life-threatening injury."

"Jake never ready for visitors?" Holt's office door was open. "Peralta in my experience always craves attention and people."

Amy's lips fluttered; the 99 knew that was a sign for her swallowing a swear word. That and Holt coming out of his office for something this trivial.

"With all due respect, sir, I can't disclose that," she said.

"Oh my God." Holt's voice dropped. "Santiago. In my office."

Amy followed, eyes wide. She walked in, and Holt shut the door behind him. Then, reaching his desk, he pressed a button on his computer. Loud country music played.

"Brad Paisley?" Amy asked.

"He is quite muffling." Holy sat down. "Peralta had a breakdown, didn't he?"

"Dammit!" Amy exclaimed. "Sorry, sir, how did you-?"

"Please sit." The captain gestured. "Word will get around in the office, but I need to know how to cover for him."  

Amy sat.

"Jake never misses work and he would arrive even with a broken bone," Holt said. "He doesn't need surgery because you said his injury wasn't life-threatening but he is sick enough to go to the hospital. If he had an illness like mumps then he would be stir-crazy, and I know that from my experience. So the process of elimination said it was a mental health issue."

She wanted to bury her face in her hands. Holt leaned forward, as if he wanted to comfort her.

"You need to tell me everything."

#

Amy wanted to say it started with little things. Jake started making copies of grocery lists, double-checking them, and insisting on going alone. He said he wanted to ensure they had a well-stocked fridge.

It had all seemed great. Normally Jake considered a box of muffins equivalent to groceries for the week. Amy always made triple-copies of grocery lists and had an app for coupons. Things were getting weird, however, when he started locking up case files and wore the key around his neck. Sometimes Amy caught him staring at her out of the corner of his eye, and not with his usual devotion.

Then he stopped talking to her about cases unless they were working on it together. He would ask about how she was feeling with the baby but never disclosing his thoughts on the latest game. Sometimes he'd pick up Sudoku and blackout the answers with a Sharpie. One time Amy even noticed he had bought a temporary burner phone. She was worried he had been asked to go undercover again.

"I can't confirm or deny," he'd say.

"Jake, you're not a lawyer," Amy replied. "This is really freaking me out. You're not this organized. Please tell me you're not being forced back into the mob."

"No, nothing like that. I just don't want to be vulnerable in time for the next heist," he'd say, in a joking tone. "After all, you did hire someone to be my therapist just when I was making progress with my life."

That had ended the conversation for the night. Amy had tried to justify her trick as a means to an end. But she noticed how the circles grew under Jake's eyes, heard him shuffling to the couch rather than sleeping next to her. When they had sex, he was much quieter. No talking about Die Hard or playing ping pong. He would get her pillows and tea to support her morning sickness.

Then one day, Jake took a Saturday off. Normally he went into the 99 looking for a case. Amy knew he wasn't there, though; he left her a note saying he scheduled a doctor's appointment, but writing five different hospitals on various Post-Its. All were covered by their work insurance.  

Jake had actually read their health insurance plan through and through. That's when Amy realized something was wrong. Jake pretended he never got sick or needed to go to the dentist. She did a little detective work, only to find that she couldn't find Jake's phone or computer. Later, she'd find out he put them in a safety deposit box. The key was mailed to Boyle, who guarded it with his life.

By the time she figured out which hospital it was, Jake had committed himself. He said he didn't want to see his wife, the nurses reported to a stricken Amy, and he had gotten the histories of all the psych doctors to ensure none of them were actresses. Amy had to speak with the doctor, who explained Jake had developed a dysfunctional paranoia. It was likely a sign of PTSD. He was also cross-examining the doctors as they prescribed pills and talked to him.

She spent all night in the hospital waiting room, desiring an answer. That was awful. So was having to answer questions about her husband's medical history and any potential allergies. The worst part, however, was remembering how much she had paid that actress. That money could have been spent for a better cause.

#

"I'm taking as many gifts to Jake as possible." Boyle showed off the basket. "Who doesn't love blue cheese and rock crackers?"

"Everyone," Amy said. "You need to check with the doctors to make sure he can receive all of that. Until he's not a danger to himself."

They were in the evidence room. They were working the night shift. Amy didn't want to go to her apartment alone.

"Well, a bit of paranoia never killed anyone." Boyle gave a chuckle. "Eleanor would always threaten that if I got remarried she would stalk me and ensure I would never find happiness. But I'm still here!"

"That's not reassuring." Nevertheless, Amy stroked the bow on the gift basket. "I'll be sure to drop it off for him."

"You know if you drop it off, Jake will give it to the orderlies and members in group."

"I'll tell him it's from you." Amy undid the bow. "Just need to take the chocolate because that I need."

"I don't think Jake trusts you anymore," Boyle said bluntly. "He doesn't trust anyone in the 99 except for me."

He fixed the bow in the gift basket. It crinkled under his fingertips.

"Did you have to say that?" Amy said.

"I'm his friend, Amy. I have to defend him. The therapist prank was not cool."

"Do you think I don't feel guilty about this?" Amy asked. "You think I want to see my brilliant husband locked in a room where they only give him meds that wipe out his brain and one crossword at a time? He's a Sudoku expert!"

"Jake actually is more of a Kwazy Krush guy," Boyle corrected her. "He just can't play it because they don't allow cell phones or laptops in the psych ward."

"That's not the point." Amy took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. It's always been heist stuff. I know I went too far. But how can I get him to trust me again?"

"Show him that you're worth trusting," Boyle said. "And wait for him to recover. Ultimately, I know you're sorry, but does he know? Can he trust his mind when it tells you that you won't betray him again?"

Amy had no answer. Jake had stopped trusting her. He stopped trusting himself. And it was her fault.

#

Life went on at the precinct. The detectives solved cases. Perps tried to break out. Holt interviewed potential assistants and screened them for spies.

It wasn't the same, though. Holt pulled all his strings to make sure no one outside the 99 knew about Jake's breakdown. Everyone tried to visit him, but he was curt with most of them except for Boyle. Jake's tone changed as a cop interrogating a suspect, not a man among his friends. Rosa offered to smuggle him a knife and Jake told her bluntly why that would be a bad idea. Terry brought drawings from the girls. Jake took them and asked casually if Cagney and Lacey knew that Terry had faked an explosion to win the heist. Hitchcock was banned from the hospital after he sneaked into the ladies' bathroom, and Scully got distracted ball the new doctors  he could befriend.

Holt sent Kevin, stuffing him full of Nick Cage quotes. It was a peace offering. Jake talked to Kevin about Greek literature -- he even received some books from the man-- but treated Holt the way he treated tuxedos. There was formality tinged with distrust. Holt was wary as well, perhaps feeling guilt over how off-the-rails things went.

Jake was still not talking to Amy, apart to ask how she was feeling with the baby. Amy wondered if the nausea was from morning sickness or the stress. She started seeing a counselor at the hospital, to try and process her feelings.

He wasn't opening himself up to anyone. Even Boyle mentioned he was out of his depth. Being a best friend and former wedding organizer did not prepare him, but he tried his best. Jake was paranoid that every single action was for the next heist or deception. His doctors weren't allowed to talk therapy sessions or medications with Amy. There was no way she could advocate for him. Jake had given himself to the medical system. And they knew the 99 was partly to blame.

Everyone was waiting. It wasn't like when he was undercover, and they only had to worry about his life. He was a few blocks away, fighting with something they couldn't see.

Finally, their captain called a meeting. They gathered in the conference room.

"The good news is that Jake should be back to work in a week," Holt said.

A cheer went around. Amy already knew, but the precinct had largely not been talking about it. Jake had finally talked to her when as an apology gift she smuggled in John McClane's favorite choice of alcohol. He wasn't allowed to drink with the meds, but it was the first time he had laughed during her visits. He still had to see the therapists at the hospital as a regular patient, however, and they recommended the two see a marriage counselor, whom they could verify was not an actor. Jake was still filling prescriptions for Klonopin so he could sleep. Amy knew they were addictive but she didn't want them to lie awake at night together.

"He's taking desk work, at his request. Boyle and Jeffords will be supervising him to make sure all is well."

"I can't wait for the guy to store food in his desk to rot," Rosa said.

"I'm practicing for when Jake will leap into my arms," Terry said.

"Now for the bad news; we are suspending the Halloween Heist indefinitely," Holt announced.

"WHAT?!" the detectives said.

"You heard me." Holt leaned forward. "Until further notice, we will spend Halloween the way we have before, with no competition and lots of paperwork on the busiest night of the year."

"But it's tradition!" Rosa said.

"You don't even know if the heist caused Jake's illness!" Amy protested.

"Where else will we prove ourselves?" Hitchcock asked.

"Aww, I wanted to show Jake I would always be by his side!" Boyle said.

"I think you're finally showing sense, Sir."

That brought all the protests to a halt. The silence in the room was deafening. Only Terry looked relieved if a little guilty.

"Who said that?" Holt asked.

"I'm Officer Gusman," the woman in the back said. "Been a uniformed police officer for a few years."  

"Who are you?" Rosa asked with disgust.

"I've been working with Detective Lohank," Gusman said. "You normally don't see us because we're on the night shift."

"And you think to stop the heist is finally showing sense?" Rosa said, an edge in her voice. "Are you questioning the Captain's authority?"

The woman went pale. Then Detective Lohank stood up.

"Office Gusman and I completely agree," he said. "You've all gone too far with your plans and need to one-up each other."

"We've been watching this heist go on for years," Gusman said. "The rest of us stay out of it because while you are doing your Halloween shenanigans, we are busy trying to do our jobs and be decent human beings. But you can't even make it harmless. We have to dodge your drones, keep from stepping on broken glass, and witness pickpocketing in real-time. You've stolen dogs, for crying out loud!"

Amy went red. She had stolen Holt's dog, despite being deathly allergic. It hadn't been her proudest moment.

"One thing this precinct has taught me is that you are only as good as the people around you," Lohank added. "I've seen you all work as a team. But every time this happens, you all work to tear each other apart. And for what? To be called a 'detective slash genius'?"

He made air quotations.

"Uh-oh, he never does that," Rosa said. "He's serious."

"Sir, you are a great Captain, and I think you could be the greatest," Gusman said. "But your pettiness is infecting the rest of the group and drove one of our best detectives to a nervous breakdown. Yes, we know; we're not stupid."

"It's actually PTSD manifesting," Amy said in a small voice.

"Whatever it is, why do you feel the need to destroy each other on what's supposed to be a night of fun?" Lohan asked. "Someone's going to die for real during a heist and you'll be too concerned about winning to notice. That's not what a detective represents. We are made to serve and protect."

"Detective-" Holt started.

"You don't check yourself into a hospital because you have a problem. Jake checked himself in because he wanted to get better. But why did he need that in the first place?"

"Okay, that will do, Detective," Terry interjected. "You've made your point. No Halloween Heist this year."

"Dismissed," Holt said.

The 99 stood up. Rosa kept sitting. She had won the heist three times that year, and mocked Jake for his innermost secrets.

"Lohank, you surprised me today," she said. "Well done."

"I may not be the best detective, but I'm still a detective," Lohank said. "Jake's a good guy. Do us all a favor and treat him like that. Enjoy the prize."

He walked off. Rosa didn't move. Amy went over to her. Rather, she waddled because her baby fat was showing.

"Jake and I are setting boundaries," she said. "We've agreed no more pranks, and I am not interfering in his mental health plans or therapists. I am not touching any of his medicines or giving him any gifts with tasers in them. And I've color-coded notes to help with reminders and showing he can trust me. I think we may actually recover."

"Sounds great," Rosa said sarcastically. "But it won't be the same."

"It won't," Amy admitted. "But we have to try and make something out of it."

She pulled out the book of Sudoku. Jake had left it in the apartment, most of his answers blacked out. There were still a few pages he hadn't completed.

Amy would give him the book, and let him do the last pages privately. No sabotages, no need to tell him the answers, just space. And no more pranks related to the stuff inside your head or with Tasers. She could commit to that. If Jake wanted to get better, then she had to make the effort.

[kyber-kisses]

Long Gone

(Gif not mine, credit goes to owner)

Steve Rogers x Reader

A/N: The Avengers Endgame trailer kind of killed me, as did angsty sad boi Steve so I felt inspired to write this.

Warnings: Slight IW spoilers? Angst. might be a little cheesy

Summary: When Y/N went missing a year before Thanos arrival Steve Rogers broke. His teammate and the person he held most dear was gone and he was never able to find her. Everything changes after the snap. What happens when a mysterious figure enters the compound and changes Steves life all over again?

  Steve should have told you. God he should have told you how he felt. He should have done it long ago. So why didn't he? It was obvious: Fear. How could someone as brilliant and beautiful as you ever understand and care for a man as broken as him? Steve Rogers was a great deal of things but a romantic partner was not one of them. He had nothing to give and with you, god with you all he wanted to do was hand you the world.

When you disappeared months before the Name Thanos ever reached the Avengers Steve was distraught. He went against Nat and Sam and tried desperately to find you, but around each corner was another dead end. And when Thanos reached earth and wiped out half of all life, that's when Steve really lost all sense of hope. If he couldn't find you then, he sure as hell wouldn't be able to find you now.

That was 3 years ago. 3 years, 17 days, 12 minutes, and 34 seconds since Steve last laid eyes you. Your beautiful y/e/c eyes, and bright smile. Not to mention your laugh. God your laugh made his heart swell. There was no doubt that Steven Grant Rogers was utterly in-love with you. Nothing could ever break that, not even your absence.

Steves head hung low as he sat at the kitchen counter in the Avengers compound, a now cold cup of coffee held between his calloused hands. His eyes drowning in the brown liquid that was being held in your favorite mug. He did this often and it broke his remaining team-members hearts.

Nat leaned against the doorway, taking in the state of her dear friend. She could see that all hope and life had slowly drained from the Captains eyes.

“Steve, you really should get some sleep.” she spoke up, slowly stepping into the dimly lit room. Without tearing his eyes away from his fixed point in the mug the once mighty super-soldier spoke up.

“Whats the point Nat? Even if I try ill just wake up to nightmares a few hours later.”

Nat walked around the counter to place a hand on his shoulder.

“Steve, y/n wouldnt want you to be wallowing in your guilt like this.”

Steves grip on your mug tightened to the point of his knuckles turning white.

“Well Y/n not here, is she Nat? If she was she would be exactly the same way, do you want to know why? Because we failed. We vowed to protect the earth and its people and we failed. And the cost? The cost was half of all life, not just here but across the universe.”

She could see the tears forming in Steves blue eyes, and for the life of her she couldn't find the right words to say. She had always seen the way Steve looked at you, and to be honest she had never seen a person more in-love. You were his backbone, his crutch as he was yours. Natasha Romanoff wouldnt dare tell Steve Rogers what you felt towards him because she knew it would just break him more and she knew it was your secret to tell. As she tried to find something to say, her thoughts were interrupted by a shrilling beeping sound echoing down the corridor. Her hand fell away from his shoulder as both head shot upwards.

Before either of them could register their movements, both of them were dashing down the hallway towards the noise. The sound led them back to the lab in which they found Bruce hunched over a computer.

“Banner what is it?” Steve stalked forward towards the scientist who pushed his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose.

“Its the perimeter sensors. One of them went off on the east side of the building.”

Steve and Natasha shared a look before turning heel and leaving, but before they could pass through the doorway, Bruce was stopping them.

“Woah, woah, woah we have no idea what passed through the perimeter. We need to be careful.”

Nat turned to look her friend in the eyes.

“No offense Bruce but weve gone up against an numerous alien armies as well as a robot one. I think Steve and I can handle whatever this is.” Before the duo could even let Bruce respond they were already walking down the hallway.

As they walked through the compound towards the front doors, Steve, for the first time since the snap took notice in how different the place he had lived so many years in felt. In the beginning it was full of light, and life. It was full of energy. But now, now it was cold and eerie. It was deathly quiet. The remaining members all had their quarters in the west wing of the compound. It was the only place where the lights were used. No one could bring themselves to enter the rest of the compound, it only brought back memories of their fallen friends and team-mates. So the electricity was shut off and they ignored those areas as if the ghosts of their friends still stalked the halls and lounges.

This was the first time in a long time Steve was truly alert and aware of all of his surroundings. He always jumped at any chance to distract himself from the memories of you that plagued his mind all hours of the day.

Natasha pushed open the set of doors in front of them that led to what you had always called the lobby.as they entered, they stopped dead in their tracks. Even though the lights were off, the natural light from outside filtered in through the once shining floor to ceiling windows. The sky outside was overcast and a light rain beat down against the glass. But that's not what called their attention.

A figure stood inside the lobby, back turned to them and eyes presumably scanning the skies. An umbrella was placed delicately against their shoulder as their other hand rested at their side. Steve could tell the figure was a woman due to her subtle curves and small hands. The woman’s trench coat was a deep black. So dark it almost felt like it was sucking Steve in.

They didnt have to make a sound for the woman to slowly turn around and lock eyes with Steve. It was as if everything went into slow motion. It was you. Y/n y/l/n the greatest love of Steves life, and the missing piece of his heart.

Steve was frozen in place, his eyes taking you in and seeing how you had changed. Your hair was darker... and shorter, maybe a little choppy. he wanted to move, but he was frozen. Frozen with fear and shock. finally your name came tumbling out of the super soldiers lips.

“Y/n?”

At the sound of your name, the pain in your face melted away and was replaced with a warming smile that spread across your features. You let out a sigh, knowing your mind wasnt playing tricks.

“Steve.”

And then you were rushing forward with tears in your eyes, wanting nothing more than to feel him. As you did Steve stepped into a sprint, running toward you. And then you were there. Diving into his arms and wrapping yours around his neck. His arms winding around your waist as you both fell to your knees. As you buried your face in his neck, you could feel his tears on your skin. You inhaled. He still smelled the same. coffee and his tea tree shampoo.

You could have stayed like that forever but you didnt. You pulled away from Steve, looking into his eyes. Doing so made you tear up again. He looked so worn. He looked tired. Steve placed his hands on the side of your face, brushing away the stray tears with his thumbs.

“Oh my god, I thought I lost you. I thought you were dead.” his voice quaked as tears kept falling. “Your alive.”

“Yeah Steve, im alive. Im here now.” You rubbed your hands against the back of his neck, calming him.

“I never told you.” He continued, “ I never told you how in-love I am with you. I never told you how much you mean to me. How ever since I met you, you have been my home.”

You froze, your mind in complete shock. Steven Grant Rogers loved you?

You reacted quickly, leaning forward and smashing your lips against his. He was stunned for a moment before you felt his lips move against yours in sync. He tasted like peppermint. You pulled away to look at the brilliant man in front of you.

“I love you too.”

Part 2?

[set-phasers-to-whump]

that spock thing

my fucking computer shut down as i was typing this so of course i had to start all over because it couldn’t save, could it??

anyway this is based on a prompt that @taylortut received. i apologise in advance if it’s bad, in my defence a) i’m a terrible writer and b) i’ve never posted any of my writing before. so please, let me know what i should fix, i really want to become a better writer!! anyway, without further ado (don’t get your hopes up it’s not great) i present: the spock thing! (i think i’m supposed to tag @xxx-cat-xxx who requested ages ago that if i wrote a trek thing to please tag them in it-sorry if you don’t want to be tagged, i apologise!!! just lmk and ill fix it!)

It had been a quick, routine visit to New Vulcan. Captain Kirk and Commander Spock had beamed down and checked up on the progress of the planet. Satisfied, they had remained for a few moments to speak with some of the elders before beaming back up to write their reports. The rest of the shift passed with absolutely nothing exciting happening, and soon everyone was heading to their quarters for some rest.

Spock decided to play a game of chess against the computer. He thought about the events of the following day, which promised to be very interesting-the Enterprise would be travelling to a currently-uninhabited Class M planet and determining if it would be fit for a colony. He had been selected as a member of the away team. He was not excited about this-Vulcans did not feel excited. He did, however, think it would be a fascinating experience. 

As he played, he realised he felt tired-far more tired than he should have been, given the routine-ness of the day. He paused his chess game and climbed into bed-it was important for him to be well rested for the upcoming mission. 

Well before he was supposed to, Spock woke up, glancing about in the total darkness to try to find the reason he had woken up. He found nothing, but his thoughts were interrupted by a harsh series of coughs. Odd, he thought-and when had it become so cold? He got up to check the environmental controls of his quarters, but found that they were exactly as they were supposed to be. That is most odd indeed, he thought, and he went back to sleep.

Spock woke up the next time at the proper hour. Contrary to how he had felt during the night, he now found it was much too warm. Deciding to ignore this, he quickly got dressed and reported to the bridge.

Around midday, he could deny it no longer. He had been suspicious since the night before, but with the chill tat seemed to have settled in his bones and the coughs which he was having trouble suppressing, he knew he must have fallen ill. It was merely an inconvenience, he reasoned. Most likely, he had picked it up on New Vulcan, since Vulcans did not typically pick up illnesses from humans. Consequently, humans were usually immune to Vulcan diseases as well. Therefore, Spock decided, it was illogical for him to return to his quarters, as he was not endangering the crew.

The rest of the day passed fairly quickly. They arrived at the planet a bit later than anticipated, however, and Kirk decided that their mission down to the surface could wait until morning.

Spock did not know whether to be grateful for this or not. On one hand, he agreed that it was best to wait until there was sufficient daylight to explore the planet, but on the other hand, they were already here, and he was pretty sure his illness would get worse before it got better. The sooner he was done with the away mission, the better, he decided.

He did not sleep very well that night. The temperature in his quarters felt intermittently too hot and too cold, and his head had begun to pound at some point. Additionally, much to his-not irritation, Vulcans did not feel irritated-merely to his...inconvenience, he had to keep bolting upright to muffle coughs into his elbow. This did not bode well for the following day.

In the morning, he passed Dr. McCoy on his way to the bridge. He walked past hurriedly, not making eye contact. If the doctor found out he was sick, he’d be forced into a bed in sickbay before he could protest, and he’d be of no use to anyone. Just his luck, McCoy stopped him.

“Hey, Spock. Say, are you feelin’ all right? You look a little peaky.”

“I am fine, Doctor.” He tried not to wince at the pain that speaking brought to his throat. 

Mercifully, Bones left it at that, and Spock continued to the bridge unhindered. He arrived shortly after his shift had begun. It was fine, he told himself, he could stay late.

Stepping onto the bridge, he felt very warm, and he was sure that everyone could see the slight trembling of his hands. But no one noticed. In fact, no one even looked at him as the doors slid shut behind him, except for the Captain, who turned in his chair and told Spock that they would be leaving for the planet’s surface in half an hour.

Did no one else realise how hot it was? Spock wondered. He made his way to the science station and stopped in his tracks as he noticed Chekov sitting in his chair. Without thinking, he snapped at the ensign to get back to where he was supposed to be.

“S-Sorry, sir, I-I did not mean to cause any trouble.”

Kirk spun around in his chair. “It’s alright, Chekov. Spock, I asked him to check up on some readings for me, since you weren’t here.”

“Oh,” said Spock, sitting down in his now-vacated chair. “My apologies, Ensign.” Kirk looked at him curiously but didn’t say anything.

Spock stared at his screens, not paying attention to what was on them. His head was pounding and his vision was starting to swim. He closed his eyes-just for a second-and suddenly Kirk was tapping him on the shoulder and telling him it was time to beam down to the planet.

Kirk and Spock walked down the corridors to the transporter room. The captain kept glancing at Spock, looking like he wanted to say something. Spock pretended not to notice. The two met Scotty in the transporter room, and the three of them beamed down to the planet’s surface. 

“It’s a little warm,” remarked Kirk. “But look at all this vegetation.”

Spock wondered how the captain could possibly think it was warm. A few minutes ago, in the transporter room, it had been extremely warm, but now it was downright freezing. He suppressed a shiver.

The trio examined the terrain, scanning and collecting samples and (in the case of Captain Kirk and Mr. Scott) talking about possibilities for the colony.

“This looks mighty good to me, sir,” said Scotty. “Solid ground, stable core, perfect for building and farming.”

“I have to agree,” responded Kirk. “Mr. Spock, your opinion?”

“It would seem to be suitable,” he said. He turned away as if to survey the terrain, running a shaking hand down his face. I can do this, he thought, just a few more minutes.

“Anything else?” questioned Kirk.

Spock turned back around. “I-I do not believe so, no.”

He was fighting to stay upright at this point. All he could think about was how much every part of him ached, and how exhausted he felt. He would be fine, he told himself, if he could just get back to his quarters.

The away team beamed back up to the Enterprise. Scotty immediately headed off to Engineering. Spock moved to follow him out of the transporter room, but was stopped by Kirk’s arm across his chest. “Hold on a minute, Spock,” said the captain.

Spock stopped. He could feel himself leaning into Kirk’s arm involuntarily-anything to let himself rest. Then the arm went away and he slouched forward momentarily, quickly righting himself and hoping he had not been seen.

Of course he had.

“Are you okay?” asked Kirk. His voice was soft and full of worry.

“Of course, Captain. I am fine.”

He tried to make his way to the door of the transporter room. His legs were shaking-he could feel them, and so were his hands, and it was so cold-why was it so cold? He stumbled and frantically tried to find something to grab onto-the Captain could not be permitted to see him like this, Vulcans were not supposed to be weak.

There was nothing to grab, and he was falling. And suddenly he wasn’t. Someone had grabbed him and pulled him back into a standing position. 

“Captain, I am-” Spock was cut off by a warm hand being pressed to his forehead. 

“Jesus, Spock, you’re burning up. And if you tell me you’re fine one more time I’m going to stick you back on the transporter and send you to New Vulcan.”

“That is illogical, Captain, we are too far away.”

He could see Kirk smiling faintly as an arm was wrapped around his shoulder and some of the weight was shifted off of his own feet. Kirk began to walk toward the door.

“Stop,” said Spock. Kirk stopped walking and turned to look at him. “Where are we going?”

“Sickbay, Spock.”

“But I am fine.”

“Why do you have to keep saying that? You don’t have to be fine all the time.”

“Yes-” he turned away and coughed roughly. Vulcans did not feel misery, but he could think of no other word to describe his situation.

“How come?”

“I am a Vulcan.”

“And?”

“I should not show signs of weakness.” His face felt warm, and he just wanted to get out of there-please, I just want to rest.

“You’re also human, Spock, and even if you weren’t, you don’t have to be strong all the time.”

“But-” he protested, half hoping Kirk would see through his-not lie, Vulcans did not lie-omission of the truth. He was starting to think sickbay might not be such a bad idea after all.

“No buts. Now, are you coming willingly to sickbay or do I have to throw you over my shoulder and force you there?”

Spock allowed himself to be led to sickbay, secretly grateful for the Captain’s stubbornness. The two men stumbled out the door, Kirk supporting most of Spock’s weight. Spock tried to be of assistance, but seemed only to cause them to trip and nearly fall. He decided the logical thing to do was to give up trying at all, so by the time they arrived at sickbay, Kirk was practically carrying him.

The door slid open, and Bones was standing there, looking as though he’d been waiting for them. 

“I was wonderin’ when you’d be coming,” he said.

“What do you mean, Bones?” asked Kirk.

“Well, I saw Spock here in the hallway earlier, and he looked a little, well, off, but I asked him and he said he was fine. I figured it was just the light or somethin’, but I thought if anything was seriously wrong he’d let me know.” Bones paused a moment, then continued. 

“Then, Mr. Scott informed me that Spock had looked like he was an inch away from passin’ out while you were on your away mission, so I thought I’d just wait for you here.”

“Spock, how long have you been feeling like this?” questioned Kirk, worry in his voice.

“Since approximately twenty two hundred hours the night before last.” His voice sounded scratchy and muffled inside his head, and every work felt like it was accompanied by a punch directly to his brain. He pressed the palm of his hand into his eye to try and relieve the pressure. Kirk winced in sympathy, and Spock abruptly stopped what he was doing, forcing himself to stand up straight. Vulcans did not feel embarrassment, but it was not conductive to his role as first officer to have a member of the crew feel sympathy towards him. Yes, surely that was it.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” demanded Bones.

Spock sighed, steeling himself to speak again. “Vulcan illnesses are not contagious to humans, so I was not endangering the rest of the crew.”

“You were endangering yourself, and by extent, the rest of the crew!” said Bones, sounding rather exasperated.

“I apologise, Doctor,” said Spock, who had not thought of this.

Bones sighed. “It’s fine Spock. Now, what exactly is the matter with you?”

“I do not know. I assume it is a Vulcan illness, picked up on our visit to New Vulcan.”

“Well, how do I fix it?”

“Even if you knew what ‘it’ was, I do not believe you have the proper knowledge of Vulcan biology to be able to cure it.” He turned away from the doctor and again coughed into his elbow. His throat, he observed, felt like it had been put through one of those old Earth things-what were they called?-oh yes, a blender.

“Oh, I wouldn’t have the knowledge, why you pointed-”

“Bones,” said Kirk, a warning note in his voice. “Let him be, he’s sick. Besides, he’s probably right.”

“I know,” said Bones. “Spock, how long d’you think it’ll take you to recover naturally, if I can’t manage to do anythin’ for ya?”

“I do not know. I do not think it would take more than three days, however.”

“Great,” muttered Bones under his breath. “Three days without our first officer, ‘cause what, I don’t have enough Vulcan medical knowledge?”

“I am sorry, Doctor,” Spock said softly. “I do not mean to be an inconvenience.” He sniffed. Vulcans did not feel guilt, but it was most impractical to draw the doctor away from his duties-surely that was it.

“It’s alright, Spock,” said Kirk. “Bones, see if some regular fever reducer will do anything. He’s half human, after all.”

Bones hurried off to find a hypo. Kirk gently slipped an arm around Spock, letting the Vulcan lean into him, supporting his weight. “How about we get you to a bed?” he suggested. Spock didn’t have the strength to argue.

Kirk gently deposited his first officer onto an empty bed and sat down at the foot of it, crossing his legs. 

Bones returned with his hypo and administered the fever reducer.

“Doctor...your hand is very cold, did you know that?”

Bones laughed softly and patted Spock on the shoulder. “Get some rest, okay?” he said, and headed off to tend to his other patients.

Spock and Kirk sat in silence for a while, the captain humming an old Earth song under his breath. 

“How are you feeling, Spock?”

“I-” I do not feel, Vulcans do not feel, I cannot feel-”I think the appropriate adjective would be ‘terrible’, Captain.”

Kirk smiled, a little sadly, and gently pressed a hand to Spock’s forehead, brushing his bangs out of the way. “Your fever’s gone down a little, I think.”

Spock hesitantly returned the captain’s smile. “Thank you, Jim,” he said, so softly it could scarcely be heard.

“Just promise me that next time, you’ll let me know if you’re not feeling well. You don’t have to be scared enough to tell me stuff, y’know.”

“I promise.”

THE END!!!! sorry the ending’s bad, i’m not very good at writing them! let me know what you think, please! and thank you so much for reading my terrible story, it means a lot to me!!!!

[emperorsfoot]

Another Hordak chapter. 

More flashbacks to his early life. 

This one with an art lesson from Hode! 

...

True to her word, Catra ordered two of her henchmen to babysit Hordak and keep him on task. They followed him when he went to the galley to retrieve more ration packets. They lurked in the doorway when he took off his exo-suit in the infirmary.

A reptilian and a satyr.

They were afraid of Hordak at first. All of the gang from the Crimson Waste was. Hordak was less of a person and more of a cryptid to them. A living shadow with glowing eyes that lurked within the bowels of the crashed ship. New-Kyle and Four-Arms said that he was something Boss Catra brought with her back from the Fright Zone. But to spite this very clear origin story, the rest of the gang still spread wild tales that he was a monster that had dwelled in the crashed ship for centuries –people did believe the ship was haunted, after all. That he was woken from his slumber by Huntara and She-Ra, and hungered for fresh blood and living flesh.

But after watching Hordak for the past couple of days, the pair decided maybe he wasn’t an immortal revenant from the bowels of a crashed vessel.

He did not crave living flesh or fresh blood. The only thing they ever saw the creature eat was the brown goop that came out of foil wrapped ration packets he found in the galley. On the off chance that he did eat fresh meat, he complained about the flavor, and remarked loudly that ‘naturally formed’ beings were obsessed with seasoning at the expense of nutrition.

He was not nearly as intimidating out of the shadows, in the light of the sickbay. He was not a living shadow. In fact, without that armor on, he was very thin. Far too thin for his height. Almost skeletal. With portions of flesh and matter all together missing from his forearms.

By the third day, Hordak’s two guards couldn’t believe they had ever been afraid of him to begin with. By the third day, Hordak’s guards had become comfortable enough with their charge to become bored with their task.

“I am Mara, She-Ra of Etheria, and I am gone.”

The reptile guard groaned loudly, frustrated and annoyed. “Gawd! Can’t you shut her up?”

From his position under the bridge console, Hordak gave a growl of frustration. The sound rumbling up from the back of his throat. It used to be such a sound would terrify any Etherian who heard it. It was dark and rolling, like distant thunder warning an approaching storm. Since being defeated by the Princesses and taken by Catra into the Crimson Waste, the sound had diminished in effect until all it earned him from the pair of Etherians in the room was an impatient glance.

“I feel like if turning her off was something he could do, he would have done it by now.” Suggested the satyr. “I mean, if she’s just starting to irritate us just imagine how irritated Tall-Dark-and-Creepy must be.”

Hordak let out another growl of frustration. He missed the days when the ignorant natives of this backwater rock feared him enough to respect him –at least while in his presence. He knew his soldiers back in the Fright Zone must have said all manner of things behind his back. Scuttlebutt was a staple of military life. But none would ever have had the gall to talk about him as if he weren’t in the room when he was very much present and in a position to hear. He did not appreciate being referred to as ‘Tall-Dark-and-Creepy’. His name was ‘Hordak’. It was the name he chose for himself upon his promotion to the Emperor’s cabinet. It was a name blessed by Prime himself when he was elevated to the highest position a clone could hold. It wasn’t just a name, it was an acknowledgment of his skills, all his hard work, of his… value to the Empire. To call him by anything else was an insult!

“If either of you sandworms think you can perform this task better than I, I’ll welcome you to try.” He snapped, not bothering to slide out from under the console. Hordak already knew they couldn’t. Prior to a few weeks ago, the denizens of this desert thought the hologram’s recorded voice were the whispers of ghosts.

There was a beat of silence in which the satyr and the reptilian just glanced at one another. They knew the were ill-suited to mechanical work just as well as Tall-Dark-and-Creepy did.

“Just make sure you are performing that task.” The reptilian reminded him. He was a little unsure of what the task was –exactly- he just knew it had something to do with repairing the ship’s main bridge computer so that Boss Catra could hear an old recording. “Otherwise it’ll be all three of us that get in trouble if Boss Catra gets mad.”

“Had my eyes but tear-ducts, I would weep for you.” Hordak scoffed, unmoved. What did he care if his guards shared the catwoman’s ire? He never wanted them hanging around him in the first place. He wanted to be left alone to tinker at his task and wallow in feelings he didn’t quite know names for.

“Hey, man, we’re just doing what we were told!” Snapped the reptilian. “I don’t see why we should get in trouble for following orders when you’re the dead-weight that can’t seem to get this act together.”

“That is because you lack discipline.” Hordak informed him. None of his brothers would ever have an attitude like that. If you were a guard, and you allowed your charge to disobey or not perform a task they were given, then you were not doing your job. It was as simple as that. If you were a Territory Captain, and your planet rebelled, then you were not doing your job.

A good soldier did his job.

A good soldier followed orders.

…

“Do you know how to hold a planet, Zero-Zero-Three?” Hode asked.

The older clone insisted on taking a shuttle down from the Vinyl Hood to the planet’s surface. Lord Hode always liked to tour the planets whenever he was away from Capitol Core. He had a keen interest in the diversity of the universe, something that couldn’t be found among the Horde where everyone looked identical to himself, thought identical to himself, believed the same dogma, held the same values. Hode said such things became monotonous and boring. Stagnant. Unmoving.

The clones of Horde Prime had no far-reaching histories, no legendary heroes or god-like idols –save for Horde Prime himself. The clones of Horde Prime had no past. Most of them, didn’t even have concepts for a ‘future’. Only one, single, unifying present. As a race, and as a culture, they were not going anywhere. They were not moving towards anything. They were fixed. Stuck.

Aliens were not like that.

Aliens had histories reaching back as far as there was intelligent life on their planets. Aliens had legends and heroes. Myths, and monsters. Stories, and illustrations, music, and dances, poetry, sculpture, fashion, architecture. Art. Aliens had art. And Hode was obsessed with it.

They walked down the wet and bloody street. The bodies had been cleared away, but puddles of blood still gathered and congealed in the gutters or on the sidewalks. The avenue stank of urine and feces, all beings voided their bowels and bladders when they died. Clearing away the bodies did not clear away the smell. In the heat of the day, the stench of blood mingled with piss and shit hung in the air, rank and thick. Zero-Zero-Three fought the impulse to cover his nasal cavity with a hand. In the heat and rush of a battle, the smell of blood and shit was exhilarating. The scent of prey. After the battle, when a soldier has stepped back from the killing edge, when they were just a normal clone again, the odor was foul and offensive.

Reaching the courtyard outside the capital building Hode stopped them, looking at the sculpture in the center of a bloody fountain.

“What do you suppose this is supposed to be, Zeor-Zero-Three?” Asked the older clone, eyes focused on the carved marble and not looking at his Force Captain.

Zero-Zero-Three glanced at his Lord. Really, he wanted to stop and examine a hunk of rock that was shaped into… “I believe it is meant to be a group of their own kind, my Lord.”

Indeed, that was what the statue looked like. Two full sized alien natives with their tentacles for arms and multiple legs. Raised, almost bubble-like ocular organs. Oral orifices stretched wide in what he assumed were supposed to be expressions of enjoyment for their kind. Below the two full-sized aliens were a group of smaller ones, their bodies not as proportional as the larger figures, their limbs shorter and thicker. Almost like how immature clones looked before they reached full maturity and were allowed out of the tank. Child aliens.

“Clearly.” Nodded Hode, not exactly annoyed with his subordinate’s superficial and obvious view of the statue. Of course, it was a group of their own kind. Species rarely put up statues of creatures not themselves outside their central governing buildings. “But what genre of group? A mating pair and their offspring.”

Clapping his arms behind his back, Zero-Zero-Three relaxed into a parade rest. Lord Hode could take hours when ‘appreciating’ aliens’ art. The Force Captain settled in for a great deal of standing, staring at nothing important, and being asked for opinions on a thing he had no opinions of.

“This would imply that they’re a binary species.” Hode continued.

“Binary, my Lord?” Like, ones and zeroes? Like the coding he used when reprograming his personal datapad and console?

“Yes, binary.” Repeated the Lord as if this explained things. “A species divided into two different sexes.”

“What would be the purpose of that?” Zero-Zero-Three found himself asking before he realized that he really didn’t care. A single species being divided sounded… problematic to him. The Horde did not have divisions –apart from those of military rank, obviously. All Horde were made the same and hatched the same. The divisions came later, after individuals were given opportunities to distinguish themselves from their brothers. When they performed well on missions, in combat, serving their superior officers. And there were levels to these divisions. Clone trooper, sub-Commander, Territory Captain, Force Captain, and Lord. There was no one-or-the-other.

“For procreation.” Hode elaborated. “Races that do not have our cloning technology must procreate by natural means, male and female combining to create a new being. Some species the mating pair only comes together for that explicit purpose and then separates soon after.” He turned his attention back to the statue. “This depiction seems to imply that these creatures do not separate after mating and raise their offspring together as a single unit. The fact that they’ve placed this statue outside their central governing building implies that their offspring and the family unit are a central object in their society.”

Zero-Zero-Three looked back at the statue again. The adults –the parents- attention focused on the younger ones –their children. “No wonder we defeated them so easily.” He scoffed. “If they waste their time with these smiling younglings instead of developing their military. One has to wonder how they managed to overthrow Captain Eight-Two-Seven at all.”

Hode glanced at him, a little surprised. “Have you never had to fight a creature defending its offspring before, Zero-Zero-Three?”

“Not that I’ve been aware of.” The younger clone shook his head.

The older clone looked legitimately surprised by that. “Parent organisms are particularly formidable when protecting their offspring. They become irrationally vicious. Societies that place a central emphasis on their offspring and the family unit are easy to conquer, but more difficult to hold.”

“Are you excusing Captain Eight-Two-Seven, my Lord?” Asked Zero-Zero-Three. Should he not have killed the other clone? He thought his Lord’s intensions were very clear. The Territory Captain couldn’t do his job, he served no purpose, he had to be discarded.

“No.” Hode assured the younger man. “Merely commenting that he did not understand the natives of the planet he was assigned to hold. Let’s go inside, Zero-Zero-Three.”

Obediently, the Force Captain lead his Lord into the building. There were still guards posted at the entrance, and the main lift. The blood that had been fresh earlier was thick and congealed now, covering the lobby in a dark green goo that squished under their boots and made uncomfortable suction sounds when they lifted their feet.

One of the clone troopers set as guard pressed the button to summon the elevator for their Lord and their Force Captain, then double checked to make sure the lift cabin was empty before the Lord and officer stepped inside. The building had already been emptied of alien natives, there shouldn’t be anyone in the lifts except for Horde clones. But Zero-Zero-Three demanded vigilance and diligence from his subordinates, and that was what they gave him. No one wanted to be the idiot who let their superior officer, or their Lord get assassinated after the battle had already been won.

Zero-Zero-Three pressed the button for the floor that held the governor’s office.

Every other window on the floor was pained in stained glass. Each one showing a different scene.

Lord Hode insisted on stopping at every one.

Every. One.

Right out the lift, was a stained glass window flanked on either side by two indoor plants –all of them splattered with dry green blood. Hode ripped a couple of leaves off the plants and used them to wipe the window clean. Then stood back to study the full picture.

The lead of the pains cut bold dark lines through the whole image, drawing even more contrast between the vibrant colors. Primary yellows, jewel-tone blues, deep crimson reds, violets, emerald hues, and energetic oranges. This one showed one of the aliens seated on what might have been the wall of a primitive castle or fortress of some kind. A sword lay on the wall next to them, but the subject’s back was to it. In the alien’s tentacles were instead a branch and a chalice.

“I suppose this one is meant to tell us these creatures prefer eating leaves and getting drunk, while neglecting warrior training.” Zero-Zero-Three announced his best guess at an interpretation before his Lord could ask. Because Hode always asked. The older clone seemed determined to make everyone else who worked under him think about art as much as he did.

Hode gave a small but nasal snort. He found the Force Captain’s interpretation amusing. “Possibly. Art is always open to the meaning of the beholder. But, I have found in many cultures, that plants have symbolic meanings beyond the physical and tangible. The branch could be an offering of peace on this world. The book, a symbol for knowledge –or the sharing of knowledge since the written word is how information is passed. The presence of a discarded weapon could indicate that these creatures believe violence should be set aside in favor of communication and peaceful exchange.”

“Pathetic.” Grumbled the younger clone. No wonder his troops defeated them so easily. It was a wonder they managed to take back their planet at all.

At each and every window, Zero-Zero-Three gave his interpretation. If he became tired of the art and remained silent, his Lord would ask for it. Then disagree with it. Lord Hode disagreed with each and every one of Zero-Zero-Three’s interpretations of the images they were examining. He looked at them through the eyes of a Horde clone. Read the colors, and subjects, and objects as a soldier would read them. He did not try and think why an alien might feel it important to depict that specific thing in that specific way.

One featured one of the natives, holding a sword in every tentacle, facing off some kind of large creature rising up out of the ocean. It was the first image Zero-Zero-Three saw of one of the natives that he felt appropriate applying the word ‘warrior’ to. Any being that looked willing and ready to take down a monster four times its size was no pathetic pacifist.

“You see, Zero-Zero-Three, no culture is without its heroes and its legends.” Hode’s tone was almost joking when he followed that stament up with, “Almost makes you wonder why we don’t have any.”

“My Lord?”

But the older clone did not elaborate.

Then they came to the broken windows. The ones Zero-Zero-Three and his troopers burse through when they infiltrated the building from the roof next door.

“A pity.” Hode lamented. The broken ones were the only windows the Lord did not pause to study.

Finally, they reached the governor’s office.

The carpet was still thick with the aliens’ blood and it squished loudly with every step they took, still wet fluid oozing up from under the mostly-dry top layer of green.

Ignoring the sound his boots made, Hode strode through the office, taking note of the frames on the walls. The art in here was strikingly different from the stained glass in the corridor, or the statue in the courtyard. Those were clearly definable as depictions of the aliens themselves. Family units, or figures from their histories or their folktales. But the paintings in the office were more abstract. Fewer colors, cooler colors, and simpler lines. Some even nothing more than geometric shapes.

Hode looked back at his subordinate.

“I don’t know, my Lord.” Admitted the Force Captain before the older clone could ask. “My abilities stop at the identifiable.”

“Simpler art is less distracting in a work environment.” The Lord explained. “The less complicated décor allows the mind to focus on tasks, and the cooler colors –blues, grays, and greens- stimulate more efficient thought. Much more appropriate for a governor’s office than the loud and heavily contrasted stained glass outside wouldn’t you say.”

That was not a question.

“Why even have art at all?” That was a question. Zero-Zero-Three did not understand its importance. It was impractical, probably time consuming to create, and did nothing but sit around taking up space. In his mind, art served no purpose. It should be discarded.

“In a clerical office setting like this, art would make them feel less pinned in.” Hode sounded very patient with his Force Captain. The kind of patience that seemed into his voice when he was losing patience. Sometimes the other clones’ lack of interest in the things that interested him were frustrating. To have such a keen interest in a subject, but have no one with which to share that interest with. Hode was quite possibly the oldest clone still living, and yet in all his years he had found no other Horde soldier he could call kindred.

Leaving the paintings on the walls, Hode strode to the desk and Zero-Zero-Three dared to hope that the Lord might actually begin the work of selecting a new Territory Captain so that they could get the heck off this Host forsaken rock and get back to the main fleet in Capital Core. The cloning crèches were in Capital Core, and they held the best medical technology in the known universe. Horde Prime reserved nothing but the best for his clones. Zero-Zero-Three felt more at ease knowing such resources were close at hand. His condition required him to be hyper-aware of his medical needs.

Hode did not sit down at the desk or boot up the terminal. Instead, he picked up a frame on the desk that had been knocked over during the battle. The image on it was blissfully free of green blood spatter. Hode held it up for his Force Captain to see.

“What do you make of this, Zero-Zero-Three?”

It looked like a simple piece of paper. Mass produced and of poor quality. Scribbled on the paper in a medium that looked like it might have been sticks of soft wax –like crayons- were messy stick figures. At least, Zero-Zero-Three assumed they were figures. One, drawn in green crayon appeared to have the four legs and tentacles for arms that the natives had. They were holding a sideways L-shaped line in one tentacle that may or may not be a representation of a burst pistol, and it was pointed at a tall and skinny figure rendered in black crayon. Two arms, two legs, a single line for a body, triangles added to the sides of the head that might have been pointed ears, and red wings framing the center line of the body. Even in the primitive and simplistic rendering, Zero-Zero-Three recognized the image of a clone trooper.

The younger man scoffed. “A crude representation of their victory over Eight-Two-Seven.”

“I child’s representation.” Hode corrected. “Probably the leader’s child, since they kept the drawing here on this desk.”

“Pathetic.” Zero-Zero-Three muttered with distain.

Hode made a non-committal noise and placed the frame back on the desk, standing upright. “Judging by the drawing, the child is probably very young. Too young to have participated in the battle. But children have a tendency to grow up, and the child of a rebel leader usually grows up to become a rebel leader themselves.” The older clone informed him. “You will need to find this child and kill them before that happens.”

“My Lord?” Asked Zero-Zero-Three, confused by the order. How could he search this planet for one small child from his Lord’s side all the way back in Capital Core? That didn’t make sense.

“You know, you never answered my question, Zero-Zero-Three.” Said the older clone by way of explanation. “Do you know how to hold a planet?”

A small stone of dread sank into the younger clone’s stomach and Zero-Zero-Three fought the urge to swallow the nerves that suddenly welled up in his throat. “That is a Territory Captain’s job, my Lord. A Force Captain’s job is to lead the troops and command the military in his Lord’s name.”

“You are a clone of our great Emperor, Horde Prime, and your job is to do what you’re told.” Hode reminded him. The words coming out in a snap that neither of them were going to call ‘frustration’. “And I am telling you to remain here and hold this planet for our Emperor.”

That was a demotion. Territory Captain was a rank below Force Captain.

“My Lord, have I displeased you in some way?” Demanded Zero-Zero-Three, desperate to understand why his Lord –whom he had tried to serve diligently and attentively- was basically banishing him to a nothing of a planet far from the capitol. Half way to Old Revena, the original Horde World.

“My pleasure was immaterial in this decision.” Hode assured him. “I am simply placing the best person I know of in a strategic position.”

“What strategy is there in demoting me to a planet sitter!?” Snarled the younger clone, more of his anger seeping into his voice than he meant. He heard it in his tone, and his volume and regretted it immediately. One did not last long by questioning their Lord and talking back. Zero-Zero-Three instantly demurred. Bowing low to the older clone. “Forgive me, my Lord, but this is very sudden and I don’t understand why.”

Was it- was it because of his defects…?

Hode pulled out the chair from the desk. A wide, flat base meant for creatures with more than just two legs. It had a tall back, but no armrests. “Sit down, Zero-Zero-Three.”

He did as he was told. Sitting awkwardly. His narrow posterior barely taking up any space in the over-wide alien chair. It made the younger clone feel small. Less, somehow.

Hode didn’t so much sit on the desk as he did lean against it, his arms crossed over his chest. “Whom do you serve?”

“The Empire.” He supplied as if this should have been obvious.

“What is the Empire?” Pressed the older clone, as if the original answer was not an answer at all.

“The Horde Empire.” Zero-Zero-Three corrected. Then paused. Remembering all their conversations about art. ‘What do you suppose this is supposed to be?’ What was the Horde Empire? Really? A collection of genetically identical soldiers, willing to lay down their lives for their Brother. The greatest technological military the universe has ever seen, all at the command of their Brother. A sweeping force of nature that conquered everything it touched in the name of their Brother. Their Brother. At the center of it all was Horde Prime. Emperor of the Known Universe. The heart of the Empire. He was the Empire. “Horde Prime, our Big Brother is the Empire. I serve Horde Prime.”

It was hard to see Hode’s expression from under his hood, but by the folds of the fabric, it looked like the older clone’s ears drooped just a little bit. Was he displeased by Zero-Zero-Three’s answer? Could Zero-Zero-Three do nothing right?

“That is the correct answer.” Hode announced. There was no displeasure in his voice. Perhaps the ear-droop was imagined. It was hard to tell with that hood up. “You will continue to serve our Emperor and Brother from here. By holding this world for him and making sure it does not fall back out of our hands.”

Now it was Zero-Zero-Three’s turn for his ears to droop.

“Don’t look so sad, Zero-Zero-Three.” Hode reached out and grabbed his chin, forcing the younger man’s face up to look at him. The red glow of his eyes the only thing illuminating the inside of his hood. It made Hode’s expression impossible to read. “You are a slow learner, but you do learn. Preform your duties here well, and you just might find yourself elevated above a Force Captain.”

Zero-Zero-Three’s eyes went wide, disbelieving. Then narrowed again with skepticism. “But the only rank above a Force Captain is a cabinet Lord.” Hode’s position. “For me to be promoted, you would have to die.”

“All clones must die.” Hode reminded him. “And all clones must serve.” A pause. “Have you never dreamed of climbing to the cabinet, Zero-Zero-Three?”

Pulling his face out of the older man’s hand, the younger clone looked down and away. He did not want to meet his Lord’s eyes when he admitted. “I never thought I’d live that long.”

Because of his defects…

“Remind me again, Zero-Zero-Three, what is your batch number?” Hode commanded.

“Sixty-six thousand six-hundred and ninety-four, my Lord.” He supplied dutifully. “From crèche number forty-two, tank number three.”

66694-42-003

“Sixty-six thousand six-hundred and ninety-four.” Repeated the older man. “You never expected to live this long, yet here you are eleven years old and still preforming admirably.”

Zero-Zero-Three flushed at the complement, the skin of his cheeks and ears coloring a vivid purple.

“Who’s to say what will happen to you before your number is called up and you go to join the All High Host? Preform your duties well and your superiors will take note of you.” Hode reminded him. “You were a sub-Commander serving under me for less than a year when I took note of you.”

The younger man flushed again. “I was so sure you were going to kill me, my Lord.” He admitted. “In hind sight, you should have killed me. I questioned you in front of the other Captains.”

“You did not question me, Zero-Zero-Three, you asked a question. There is a difference. A very significant one.” Hode was very firm in that reminder. “And it was that act that drew you to my attention. Allowed me to see that you were not just a mindless drone like so many of our other brothers.”

His ears drooped more at the reminder that he was not like the rest of their brothers. He was different. Atypical. Anomalous. “Perhaps that was my… defects manifesting early.”

“Perhaps.” Hode admitted and Zero-Zero-Three was not prepared for how such an easy agreement –without hesitation- that his defects might have been influencing him even back then. “That does not change the fact that you’re different. Ears up, Zero-Zero-Three, that is not an insult. It is a statement of fact. Of every other sub-Commander and Force Captain in that room, you were the only one who though to ask me ‘why’. That struck a chord with me.”

“Actually, I asked what the relevance was, my Lord.” Corrected the younger man without thinking. One did not usually correct a cabinet Lord of they wanted to remain happy, healthy, and alive. Zero-Zero-Three looked up into his Lord’s darkened hood, concerned that he might have just insulted his superior. But, as was usual, Hode’s expression was unreadable. Zero-Zero-Three looked away again. “Why are we speaking about our first meeting.”

“Because I’m old and I like to reminisce.” The other clone scoffed, as if this answer should have been obvious.

He stood from the desk, scooping the child’s drawing back up as he did so. He opened up the back of the frame and pulled out the paper, folded it and slipped it into a pouch of his belt. Another piece for Lord Hode’s always growing art collection. The old man did not offer an explanation and Zero-Zero-Three did not comment. Hode always took at least one –sometimes more than one- cultural artifact from every planet he visited. It was at the point now that an entire deck of the Vinyl Hood was devoted to the Lord’s art collection.

Cultural clutter.

Zero-Zero-Three did not stand. His Lord had not given him leave to.

But he did look back up at the older clone. Crimson eyes pleading, ears drooping so low they were almost brushing his shoulders. “Are you really leaving me here, my Lord?” He asked, sounding very much like a freshly hatched cadet in that moment. Like a hatchling being pushed out of the crèche. “I thought you said it would be inconvenient for you if you lost me?”

“I said it would be inconvenient if you died.” Hode corrected the younger clone. “So, don’t die. I will be very annoyed if you do.”

He moved to leave.

Zero-Zero-Three catapulted to his feet. He opened his mouth to shout at his Lord’s back, then realized he had no idea what he wanted to say.

“I do not know how to hold a planet!” He blurted out. Three times Lord Hode asked him if he knew how to hold a planet and each time Zero-Zero-Three avoided answering. Because he didn’t know how. Because he was a Force Captain, not a Territory Captain. It was not a Force Captain’s job to hold a planet, it was a Territory Captain’s job.

Hode looked back at him, the turn of his neck pulling on the fabric of his hood so that Zero-Zero-Three could see the lower half of his face. A square chin identical of his own, and thin lips pulled back in a humorless grin, displaying crimson teeth. “Then learn. You are a slow learner, Zero-Zero-Three, but you do learn.”

The younger clone chewed on the inside of his cheek. He wanted to try and convince his Lord not to demote him like this. To find someone else to stay and planet sit, so that he could remain at his Lord’s side.

“Learn about art, Zero-Zero-Three.” His Lord suggested. “When you understand a species' art, you understand that species. And if you understand a species, you can control them. It is always easier to hold a planet when the native population is under your control.”

Zero-Zero-Three looked to the side, his eyes finding an abstract painting on the wall. A background of pale cream swirls, behind a series of unevenly spaced cubes in hues of teal, and shaded in umber. He had no idea what it was supposed to be. The Horde did not make art. The clone troopers of the Imperial Horde spent their spare time on more practical hobbies.

“Alter your uniform to hide how thin you’ve become.” Hode reminded him. “And be sure to eat plenty of protein. Do not allow yourself to become any thinner.”

“You’re really leaving me here?” Why did Zero-Zero-Three feel like he was being abandoned? His Lord had given him a task, he should carry it out without question.

“Yes, Zero-Zero-Three. I am.” Hode exited the office.

Zero-Zero-Three slumped back into the alien chair that was too big for his tall but narrow body. He put his head in his hands. He was given a task. A new mission. He had his orders. He might not like them. They might have come with a demotion. But Zero-Zero-Three would preform his task as best he could.

He was a soldier, and a good soldier followed orders.

[the-sanders-sides]

Stereotypical High School Movie AU

Previous || Chapter 21 || ao3 

in case links aren’t working: previous - https://the-sanders-sides.tumblr.com/post/182230055491/stereotypical-high-school-movie-au  and ao3 - https://archiveofourown.org/works/10574736/chapters/41405801

summary: Virgil was the emo kid with a history with the school’s most popular clique. Logan was, for lack of a better word, a nerd, and Virgil’s best friend. Roman, however, remains a mystery within his allegiances: friend or foe, bully or genuine? And Patton’s their loving teacher, providing each one of his kids with the advice they need to face the biggest challenge of their life so far: high school. (endgame prinxiety)

chapter warnings/possible triggers: threats, anxiety attacks, bad relationship with parents

Ah, another weekend. The sun was shining on a beautiful Florida park, and sat there on the swing set at two in the afternoon was none other than the sides: Logan, Virgil, and Roman.

“Anx, how are you not overheating right now?” Logan remarked, leaning against the pole of the swing set, while Virgil and Roman took up the two swings.

“Nah, I'm used to the heat. My sweater is like my second skin now,” Virgil joked, swinging slowly.

“Oh my gosh! Both of you phrased that so, terribly wrong that it's impossible to make a jokingly flirty comment!” Roman exclaimed as he swung high enough to be almost at a right a angle with the swing set. Virgil shook his head.

“What, you wanted me to say ‘it’s hot’ so you could say ‘that’s ‘cause I'm here’?” Virgil snarled.

“As a matter of fact, that's not what I was going to say,” Roman replied and stuck out his tongue at Virgil. Logan rolled his eyes.

“Then what were you going to say?” Logan prompted.

“Well, Anx could've replied to your question by saying ‘I’m not hot’ and I would've said ‘See, that's why we're perfect together! You're chill and I'm flamin’,” Roman said and jumped off the swing landing softly on the ground. He turned around to loom at Virgil. “Wait, ‘Anx’ is okay, right?”

“Yes, Princey,” Virgil responded. Roman smiled.

“Perfect, we're the three musketeers! Princey, Anxiety, and Logic!” Roman cheered. Logan cocked an eyebrow.

“Logic?” Logan questioned.

“Oh, yeah! I call you that in my head, since you're super smart. I think it's a fitting nickname… Um, do you like it?” Roman asked apprehensively. Logan gave a curt nod.

“It’s very apt,” Logan declared. Roman laughed. Roman’s phone buzzed in his pocket.

Charlotte >> Roman

Ro, can we talk?

Charlotte >> Roman

I don't know who to believe

Roman >> Charlotte

Please trust me, Char.

Roman then typed out ‘They're no good. It took me a while to break out of their manipulation and mind games’ but ended up deleting that.

Roman >> Charlotte

Just hear me out. I'm at the park rn if you want to talk?

Charlotte >> Roman

Yeah, I'll be there

“Hey, um, heads up, I just invited Charlotte here so we can talk… about, well you know…,” Roman said as he looked up from his phone.

“Yeah, yeah, I know…,” Virgil responded, slowing down his swinging. “I don’t think I want to stick around for that though. I’m gonna take a walk.”

“Alright, have fun,” Roman responded, slightly disheartened that Virgil wasn’t staying as he waved the other boy off. Logan looked between his two friends trying to decide who to stay with. Virgil rolled his eyes.

“Ugh, Lo, you look like a lost puppy. Fine, I’ll stay!” Virgil complained. A slight blush spread on Logan’s cheeks.

“I am not a lost puppy! I just said that so you’d stay!” Logan said in that matter-of-factly way that made it very obvious he was lying and that although the outcome was desirable, it was definitely not intentional. Virgil oh so eloquently responded to Logan’s petulance by sticking out his tongue at Logic. Roman chortled and ended up snorting from laughter which in turn made the other two boys laugh, so that when Charlotte arrive, she was left upon a group of laughing teenagers who for the life of them, could not stop. At first, she was distressed, as the only thing on her mind was finding out the truth about the people in her life, but at the sight she cracked a small smile that grew, and ultimately, she joined in on the laughter too. Whenever the four were close to recovering, Roman just ended up snorting again and the other three would roar with laughter, thereupon Roman would laugh again as well.

It was pure serenity. It was pure happiness. It was pure trust.

“Y-You know, haha, I’ve never felt, hehe, like this with, haha, Wynne before. I think I believe you, Ro,” Charlotte gasped, struggling to speak through the laughs. Her statement lead the other three to calm down with an occasional hiccup of laughter echoing from one of them. “Also, I am going to destroy Wynne for outing you, Virgil,” Charlotte blushed, “Also, uh, sorry about that fling we had. If I had known you didn’t want it, I wouldn’t have...”

“N-No, I consented! But don’t kill Wynne. I-It’s not worth it. You’ll get in trouble,” Virgil pleaded.

“Like you guys won’t?” Charlotte argued.

“Charlotte, if I may, wouldn’t it be more productive to amend for the things that you did, that may not have necessarily been good things, rather than get revenge? I’ve learned that it’s no good to punish people in retribution. You’ll just end up being as bad as they are, right?” Logan proffered.

“Yeah… I guess you’re right. I think- I think I’m gonna go talk to Rashmi. And all my other exes. And the people who I cheated in school from. But mostly Rashmi. I miss her a lot and it’s been so long and you were there when we broke up, right Virgil? I was trying so hard to be better, but I couldn’t, and then I ruined it and I tried to make out with you, and ugh! I messed up, like, big time.” Roman smiled.

“Well then, now’s your time to be better like you wanted to. I- Good luck, Charlotte. If you ever need someone who gets what it’s like to be manipulated by someone like Wynne, I’m here,” Roman said.

“I’d be happy to be your friend,” Charlotte responded as she smiled and walked off.

That night, Logan and Virgil layed on the grass in Logan’s backwards staring at the stars hidden in light pollution. The bugs were hidden away and asleep, so it was just the two of them and the half moon. Virgil sighed.

“So, my dad’s back in town tomorrow. His business trip and whatnot bein’ over. I think, maybe I should tell him about that fight with Nurul, but I don’t wanna make him worry anymore,” Virgil wiped away the tears that began to well up, “But then it’s just- Our relationship is already so strained, and then being all like ‘Hey dad! The kids at school still hate me!’ may be a bit too much. But I just, I don’t know..,” Virgil quietly rambled. Logan hummed.

“Talking will help. Maybe not even about that, but just clear the air. Tell him that you care about him. I dunno, I’m not the one to ask about this. I have been deemed Logic and not Feelings, after all,” Logan joked.

“Mr. Feelings, what am I to do?” Virgil asked with an air of extravagance as he climbed on top of Logan acting like a damsel in distress. Logan laughed.

“I don’t know, Anxiety, perhaps your solution lies away from me! For I am not the good Mr. Feelings! I am the evil Mr. Logic, and I’ve got you under my spell!” Logan shouted as he rolled the two over so Logan was on the top now as he pinned Virgil down.

“Oh no! Whatever shall I do? There is no Princey here to save me!” Virgil announced as he mock fainted. Logan smiled and shook his head as he climbed off of Virgil. Logan’s phone fell out of his pocket and when he picked it up he saw a notification from the screen mirroring app that Wynne’s phone was currently in use. He unlocked his phone and looked at the texts Wynne was currently sending. They were to Nurul, and they were quite concerning.

Wynne >> Nurul

just stay out of my way, okay! ill take care of it.

Nurul >> Wynne

At least tell me how you’re going to get revenge.

Wynne >> Nurul

if we hurt virgil, we hurt logan more than if we got him directly. the dweeb cares too much.

Look. im gonna call virgils dad as the school and be all like ‘hey virgils dad your son started a fight and beat up an innocent kid, thought you should know!’

that’ll get anyone grounded. or worse.

Logan’s eyes widened. “Oh no. Oh shit, this is bad. Anx, look at this,” Logan panicked, shoving his phone in Virgil’s face.

“Woah, woah, Lo, calm down. It’s fine,” Virgil moved the phone away from his face to a distance where he could read the screen, “Never mind. Let’s panic. Oh fuck.” Logan twiddled with his glasses and began to speak at an unintelligible speed.

“We can- We can shut this down, right? It’s possible. Oh my gosh, Wynne is right. Haha, I love caring more about my friends more than myself. Okay anyway. Ummm. We could block the signal? No, i don’t know how much time we have. Um. Uh. We could redirect the call! That’s easier, I think! Okay yes…” Logan continued muttering how he was going to go about this while he walked inside his house and to his computer. Virgil followed suit in a daze and just hoped that Logan would fix the problem. He always does, but, is this the first time he won’t? Virgil thought as he chewed his lip which was bound to swell later.

Logan and Virgil entered Logan’s bedroom. Virgil flopped down onto Logan’s bed while Logic sat at his desk and began to type and write to figure this thing out. An hour later, he breathlessly stopped. He gasped out the air he didn’t realize he was holding.

“I think I did it. I’m not sure. I’ve never tried anything like this before,” Logan lamented.

“It’s okay if it doesn’t work. Just- Thank you. For always protecting me,” Virgil replied.

“I’ve always been afraid of losing you. You’re my best friend, and I- Fuck. Emotions,” Logan said melancholically, his forehead slightly creased.

“It’s okay, I know what you’re trying to say. I love you too,” Virgil whispered with a soft smile. Virgil’s phone started buzzing and when he saw who was calling he furrowed his brow.

“Wynne is calling me?” Virgil questioned. “Should I pick it up or…?”

“Oh right,” Logan adjusted his glasses, “I redirected the call so instead of Wynne’s call going to your dad’s phone, it goes to yours.” Virgil nodded, picked up the phone, and put it on speaker.

“Hello Mr. Sanders, this is Vice Principal Vitali. I apologize for calling this late, but we weren’t getting a response earlier, and I was just leaving my office, so I thought I’d try one last time. Your son is in some serious trouble,” Wynne said with a falsely deepened voice. Virgil’s eyes went wide.

‘What do I say?’ Virgil signed at Logan.

‘Deepen your voice and pretend to be your dad. Just say you’ll ground Virgil or something,’ Logan signed back. Virgil cleared his throat.

“Ah, Mr. Vitali, what trouble do I owe you?” Virgil asked, his deepened voice shaking.

“Your son Virgil picked a fight with this innocent kid, Nurul, and proceeded to beat him up. I am very thankful our English teacher was there to intervene, for it looked like he was going to seriously injure that kid,” Wynne said.

‘This makes me so angry. Flames on the side of my face,’ Logan signed. Virgil couldn’t help but snort a little laugh.

“Excuse me, what was that you said?” Wynne asked.

“Oh sorry, that was a sn-eeze.” And Virgil’s pubescent voice cracks struck at the wrong time on the word sneeze. “I’m a little sick, so my voice is not right, right now,” he lied.

“Well, I apologize that I’m bringing such information at this troubling time. I hope you will deal with your son as you see fit.”

“Yes, thank you. I must be grounding him,” Virgil said, but it came out more like a question than a statement. “Goodbye now,” he said as he tapped the end call button. But. His finger didn’t hit end call, it hit right next to end call, and neither Virgil nor Logan noticed that the phone was still on.

“Oh my gosh, it worked,” Logan cheered.

“Yes!” Virgil shouted, back in his normal voice.

“Ex-Excuse me?”

‘Oh shit,’ Virgil signed.

‘Hang up! Just hang up!’ Logan signed back. But before he could, Wynne spoke again.

“Wait a minute, that sounded like Logan’s voice? And Virgil’s? I sincerely hope I am talking to Mr. Sanders and not his kid and his friend trying to get out of trouble,” Wynne continued, not once breaking character. “Because if it is Logan and Virgil, I wonder how they knew about this call. Surely no one in the administration talked them about it. Which would mean it’s sabotage. And oh, Mr. Sanders. You aren’t even interrupting me. So I must assume it’s Logan and Virgil,” Wynne dropped the phony voice, “You dweebs I will destroy you!”

“U-Um-,” Virgil stuttered trying to get back into his false voice but failing.

“So it is you, jackass. Now let me think, how would you know about this? The only other person who knows is Nurul and he’s with me here right now, aren’t ya buddy? So it must be… hm… perhaps the little nerd decided to hack again? Didn’t he learn his lesson the last time?”

“Actually, no, I didn’t. Nurul’s a terrible fighter,” Logan snarked.

‘Logan, what are you doing?’ Virgil signed.

‘It’s fine. Trust me. Follow my lead’ Logan signed back. Virgil nodded.

“Yeah, he must be pretty weak if I supposedly seriously injured him,” Virgil said.

“Listen well Virgil. I know things about you that you wouldn’t want anyone to know. Now. I will destroy you unless you stop being a shithead and meddling with Roman! He’s mine! You hear me? You have two choices: convince Roman that I was right all along and have him join me again, or, let me destroy Roman for being the worst fucking person alive! Otherwise, you and your stupid nerd friend will find yourselves in a world of pain, got it?” Wynne threatened.

“No.”

“What did you say?” Wynne asked.

“I said no!” Virgil shouted at the phone. “Now get the fuck out of my life. If I’m such a loser and a dweeb, then why the hell do you keep trying to toy with me? Go raise your standards, asshat.” Virgil pressed the end call button for real this time and then looked up at Logan. He was shaking all over and couldn’t breathe. He was absolutely still and silent, and panting and heaving and crying at the same time. It was the beginning of an anxiety attack.

a/n: hope you enjoy! things are getting spicy.

prinxiety tag list from famders tag list:

@221biotchplease @a-blog-just-for-sanders @ace-of-hufflepuffs @ace-v-p-d @acrobaticcatfeline @alextheodd @all-these-trees-stealing-mah-o2 @allaboutme7 @allthemetalsoftherainbow @alyssadashrub @anastasialestina@angeliclogan @angered-turtle @anony-phangirl @anxious-darkwolf @anyay666 @aph-roma @areyousirius-noheisdead @asalwayss @elder-jeremiah @elvishfrenchassassin @emokittenlikesgore @emovirgil @emphoenixcat @erlenmeyertrashofsandersides @evilmuffin @faacethefacts @fabulousfanaticfander @thats-so-crash @fairly-close @faithhopefelony @fanatic564 @fandergecko @fangirlsanonymous @fireflightyt @funsizedgremlin @gamerzylo @gayrobotalien @grey-lysander @hanramz-the-fander @heythereprincey @hi-disappointed-im-daughter @hissesssss @hoodie-bros @hottopicvirge @runyou-cleverboy-andremember @imaflashcard @inkyoo @inkyroo @iris-sanders-athena @ive-given-up-on-it @jade-dragon226-fan @jaybingu @jughead-is-canonically-aroace @just-another-transblog @justmyshitandmoreshit @k9cat @katatles-the-fish @kentato-kenart @kickassking14 @kirsten-the-freak @koalaaquabear @kurna-kovite @l-i-t-vocabcards @lacandra @lacrimosathedark @lana–22 @lockolocka @logically-sided @louisthewarlock @madelynnaa @magicmapleleaf @makemeaplant @makemeaplant @maximum-fander @mercythemermaids-blog @micha-like-you-find-in-rocks @microsoft-nerd @migraine-marathon @milomeepit @minamishipsit @mollycassmith @moonlightinwater @multi-fandom-trash-x9000 @muontsy2 @musicphanpie-b @musicsavedmefromdeath @mydogsaresofuckingstupid @neko-ereri-art @nightmarejasmine @notallpotatoesarefrenchfries @nottodaylogic @notveryglittery @nuttytheorizer @nymphaedoratonks @ocotopushugs @on-lock-like-attica @osnapitzbc @pandagirl0730 @panicatthefalloutphanficfandom @pansexual-cat @pastel-patton123 @pattykrabbies @pearls-of-patton @fricksonsticks @phanic-at-the-malfoys @pieces-of-annedrew @pinkeasteregg @planetsanders @potterlover394 @poundland-twoface @prinxietypreoccupied @proudhufflepuff @prplzorua @purplesatankittycat @radioactivebread @rainbow-beaniegirl @ray-rambles @reba-andthesides @redundant-statements-for-400 @roaring--20s @robanilla @roman-is-a-gay @rose-gold-roman @royallyanxious @rptheturk @ruuworld @samidaboss3 @sanders-fam-ily @sanders-sides-things @sanders-trash-4ever @sanderssides-deathangel @saphirestrike @sarcastic-anxious @sassy-in-glasses @save-dirk-gently @sesame-icecream @shygirl4991 @silversunshine2012 @siriuswhiskers @smokeyrutilequartz @smollestsinnamonroll @space-d0ubt @spacenerrrd @the-feels-are-coming @spoonfullofcrofters @starlightlogan @starry-eyed-haiku-dreamer @stars-in-mine-eyes @stormblessedcastiel @storytellerofuntoldlegends @strangerthings-and-phan @superfandertrashbros @superintrovertfangirl @thatonenerdtm @the-optimism-of-the-ostriches @the-prince-and-the-emo @theanxietyofbeinganxious @thecrimsoncodex @thegirlwiththedragonheart @thenerdycube @thepusheenqueen @theroyalramen @thesilentbluesparrow @theworldismysupernova @theworldismysupernova @thisisshien @thomas-must-get-to-sleep @thought-u-said-dragon-queen @too-precious-to-process @too-random-for-me @toujours-fidele @trashfireiplier @trashypansexual @tree4life25 @unknownsandersfan @urtrashhq @v-blue-writer @vampyrsarah @virgilisaneternalmood @virgils-anxiety @virgils-hoodie @voices-and-stardust @vulnerablevirgil @watch-me-introvert @weird-short-person @whyamihereohwell @wowimanerdblr @yamiaainferno @yonnie-boy @yourmomsafalsehood @l-i-t-vocabcards @enderperson43 @houseplxnthoodie @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 @nicoandtheninegalaxies @beetlequail @katie-the-noble-fangirl @johnlockandrarry @mildly-entertaining-fiasco

[the--blackdahlia]

This Life Chapter 17

Title: This Life Chapter 17

Summary:  Dean Winchester is the Vice President of the motorcycle club The Hunters. After almost 7 years in prison, he's free. But things have changed and Dean has to figure out how to put things back together.

Warnings: Language

AN: Thank you love @sams-serialkiller-fetish . The song for this chapter is Summertime Blues by Joan Jett.

“What are we still doing here?” Ruby asked the morning after the funeral. They were all gathered back at the garage, trying to figure out what to do. “We buried Benny. We should be heading back to California.”

“That requires having to go near Horsemen territory. And we kinda just killed one of their members.” Andy told her. “We’re just gonna stay here for a little bit and figure things out.”

“That’s why I’ve called in some reinforcements.” Meg said.

“Who?” Cas asked. That’s when a yellow AMC Germlin pulled into the lot.

“A friend.” Meg said. “She’s a genius. She can help us keep track of the Horsemen.” A redhead got out of the car with a smile on her face.

“‘Sup bitches.” She laughed.

“Guys, this is Charlie.” Meg introduced her. “She can hack anything.”

“So can Ash.” Cas said, crossing his arms. “You’re just bringing another person into the crossfire.”

“I laugh in the face of danger.” Charlie said, smiling. Cas just rolled his eyes and headed over to where Caleb and Jim were. “Is he always this friendly?”

“Trust me, the Hunters aren’t exactly a warm and loving bunch.” Gabriel sighed.

“One of them was.” Ruby added.

“And Sam’s not too bad.” Lucifer said with a shrug.

“Sam is one of us. Not one of them.” Gabriel pointed out. “So of course he’s awesome.”

“Guys, let’s face it,” Andy said, looking at all of them, even Charlie. “Sam might be one of us, but his true home and family is here in Wolfpine.” He motioned over to where Sam was perched on a stool, watching Dean tune up Baby. “And I have a feeling, he won’t be going back to California with us.”

“So, do I get to meet this mysterious Sam?” Charlie asked.

“Of course sweetheart.” Meg said. “I’ll go introduce you to anyone and then we’ll get you set up.” She led Charlie away from the other Wayward Sons.

“I wonder what she’s supposed to be doing here?” Andy asked, looking at Ruby and the brothers. “I guess we’ll find out.” He said when no one answered him. He made his way over to where Meg was introducing Charlie to some of the Hunters, ready to find out.

****

Charlie was set up in the office by Ellen, typing a mile a minute and looking at reports. Ellen was impressed to say the least. Charlie was a woman on a mission obviously.

“You need a job?” Ellen asked. “I’ve got about fifteen years of files that need typed up and organized right. I’m no computer expert and Jo’s not that fast of a typer.” Charlie laughed some.

“Maybe when I settle down and decide I don’t want to be a grey hat anymore.” Charlie told her. She had a beautiful Blueberry iBook and a Wifi card. So Ellen assumed that she was doing something to make some money. “I heard someone say that they were sending me help?”

“Um, I’m not sure.” Ellen told her. “What do you need help with?”

“Nothing. That’s why I’m confused.” Charlie told her. That’s when a bright orange El Camino pulled into the lot, Lynyrd Skynyrd blaring from it. The engine was cut and music stopped as Ash climbed out of the car.

“Relax everyone, I’m here.” Ash said. Caleb laughed and Cas wenet over to talk to him. A few minutes later, Ash was walking into the office with Ellen and Charlie. “Who’s this?”

“Charlie.” Charlie said to him. “And I don’t need your help.”

“Tracking the Horsemen can be a tough challenge. And I did go to MIT.” Ash said, flipping his hair back.

“MIT? That’s cool. I went to Cornell.” Charlie told him. “And I think I can manage just fine.” Ash flopped down on the dirty old couch that set in the office and got his own laptop out.

“You might be able to handle it just fine, but I want to help anyway.” Ash said. Ellen laughed a little.

“I’m just gonna go find Bobby. It’s getting a little too crowded in here for me.” With that, Ellen left, leaving Ash and Charlie to stare each other down while typing away.

“Watchya lookin’ at over there?” Ash asked, glancing at Charlie.

“Things and stuff.” She said. “You?”

“Updating my stock portfolio.” He said with sarcasm seething.

“Well, if this a competition, may the best woman win.” Charlie said.

“Oh I intend to…” Ash realized what Charlie had said and glared and started in on his search. He was going to win.

****

“Why is Ash here?” Sam asked, looking to where they had set Charlie up. Dean looked over and shrugged, not sure why he was here.

“I called him.” Cas said. “I’d rather have someone from our team working on this. I just don’t trust some of those Wayward Sons.”

“I saw the way you’ve been looking at Meg.” Jim teased. Cas’s face turned red.

“I have not…” Cas said. Bobby laughed.

“Guess Cassie boy isn’t as much as monk as he wants us all to believe.” Caleb announced.

“You guys are all assholes.” Cas said, rolling his eyes. “Anyway, I wanted a backup in case this Charlie isn’t as good as Meg said she is. And I trust Ash more than I trust Charlie.” There was a motorcycle pulling into the lot. Gordon got off his bike and headed to them.

“Hey guys.” He said.

“Hi Gordon.” Bobby said. “What can I do for you?”

“Bike’s making weird noises. Can you check it out for me?” He asked.

“On it.” Dean said, heading over to Gordon’s bike. Gordon looked at Sam and his eyes widened slightly before he plastered a smile on his face.

“Hey Sammy.” Gordon said. Sam frowned more than he already was.

“Hi Gordon.” He grumbled.

“Okay then. Uh, point me in the way of the bathroom?” Gordon asked. Sam motioned to where the bathrooms were and let Gordon on his way. Gordon made his way in and shut the door. He thought Azazel was going to kill the crown prince. Alastair had sent him there to scope out the situation. He noticed Benny wasn’t standing around with them like he used to. So that was one down.

He looked around the small bathroom, wondering what he was supposed to do next. He looked at the sink, ready to splash his face to get his head around everything, when he saw a bracelet laying there. A bracelet he had seen before. It belonged to Sam. An exchange gift when he gave Dean an amulet that was supposed to protect him on runs. Sam had lost it once when Gordon was over and he thought the kid was going to have a panic attack until they found it.

It was perfect.

Gordon pocketed the bracelet. He wasn’t sure why he did, but it seemed right. He gave himself another minute before he headed back out. Dean was wiping grease off his hands talking to Caleb. He looked up at Gordon.

“Just a couple loose wires.” Dean told him. Gordon nodded.

“Don’t have a job for me, do you?” Gordon asked.

“No man. Sorry.” Caleb said. Gordon nodded again and went back to his bike.

“Well, thanks for the fix.” Gordon said, starting up his bike and driving off. Dean looked at the others.

“Something doesn’t sit me right with him.” He said. Sam nodded in agreement. He looked around.

“Anyone seen my bracelet?” He asked.

“Sorry man, I haven’t.” Cas said. “It’ll show up though.”

****

Gordon made it out of Wolfpine and headed to New Mexico. He stopped close to the state line where Alastair was waiting for him. The Horsemen looked like he was ready to fight. Gordon just hoped it wasn’t with him.

“What did you find out?” Alastair asked.

“Everyone was there except for Benny Lafitte.” Gordon reported. “Even Sam.”

“Damn it.” Alastair sighed. “Azazel was a capable leader, but he let his emotions get the best of him.”

“I snagged this.” Gordon said, handing Alastair Sam’s bracelet. “It’s Sam’s. I don’t know if it will do any good or not…”

“I actually think I have a plan.” Alastair said, smirking. “Good job Gordon. You’re definitely a Horsemen.”

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[bravemccalll]

your blood in my veins

| ao3 |

chapter one – a day of birthdays and odd encounters

 Hajime wakes up on the morning of his 20th birthday with the heavy sound of a bass thrumming through his apartment.

Now, Hajime may only get paid minimum wage at his part-time job at the small café around the corner from the university he attends, but god damnit if he is not going to write a strongly worded complaint to the owner of his building about his neighbour’s need to blast their club music at 7am.

He gets up and decides that’s just going to get dressed as quickly as possible for his lecture at midday and just find a bench to read on to waste time, but he can feel vibrations rumbling beneath his feet while he’s brushing his teeth and he can’t take it.

He jerks open his front door and knocks on his neighbour’s door, one shoe on and tied, the other still back by his bed, his shirt untucked at the back and unbelievably tired because life has dealt him a shit hand, but he refuses to have ‘inconsiderate neighbours’ be one of his cards, god damnit –

A man opens the door and Hajime opens his mouth to ask him to turn down the music when he realises that there is no music and the landing he’s standing on his silent except for the loud judgement that is emanating from the man in front of him.

“I,” Hajime starts. “Sorry, I thought, uh. Nevermind.”

He turns and goes back into his apartment where only a few minutes ago he could’ve sworn the wooden flooring had a pulse with the way it shook beneath him.

He shakes his head, grabs his other shoe, tucks his shirt in and chalks it up to lack of sleep and heads out for the day.

Not the best start to his birthday but he’s had worse.

(Across the country, Peko exits the club, her pay-check tucked into the pocket of her leather jacket. She checks the time and almost laughs. It’s been her birthday for a whole seven hours and she hadn’t noticed. Figures.

She hums ‘Happy Birthday’ to herself as she walks home, her key tucked between her fingers, just above her knuckles. It’s bright out and she doesn’t think anyone would try anything with the sun’s harsh glare beating down on them, but she doesn’t want to chance it.

She wonders if her mother has anything for her at home and speeds up.)

//

 Chiaki taps her finger on the edge of her laptop and stares at her computer screen. Various windows, all with different codes, stare back at her.

She checks the time. 9:00am. She checks the date. 15th of August. It’s her 20th birthday. And it’s too early to call her grandparents.

She wonders what they’ll do today – her, her grandmother and grandfather. Last year they went to the park and had a picnic while her gran fussed over the bags under her eyes and her grandpa excitedly explained every dish he had made.

They might have a ball this year. She hopes not. The last ball they had for her birthday was when she was eight and she distinctly remembers tripping over the hem of her dress and falling into a punch bowl. Never again.

She sighs and starts to shut down her laptop, saving and double-saving her work before closing the lid. She rises off the cosy armchair she was gifted when she first bought her house and makes a note to get a glass of water before she starts to get ready for the day while she grabs her laptop case.

Just as Chiaki turns to the kitchen, she’s hit with a blind pain, the kind that makes you see white for a moment. She looks down and there are her hands, usually pale with her nails round and smooth, now stained red with her knuckles bust open. One of the bones at the base of her middle finger on her right hand has pierced the skin and she feels the urge to vomit.

She runs to the sink and shoves her hands under the tap, looking around frantically for her phone to get an ambulance over because dear lord bones aren’t meant to do that, are they?

She turns back to the sink just as she remembers her phone is on the armchair and the sink that was once splattered with pink water is now pristine and there are her hands, unblemished if a bit wet.

She blinks and wonders how she could’ve imagined something like that.

Not a great start to her big day. She resolves to not tell her grandparents about this, no matter how much she’d love to get their opinion on it. They’d just worry.

(South of Chiaki’s quiet house, Fuyuhiko on the bed in his dingy hotel room, his belt clenched between his teeth, his right hand a bloody mess but he can’t tell what’s his blood and what’s his associate’s. Associate being a loose term to describe the sneaky asshole who stole fifty grand from his father.

There’s a med kit that’s got bloody finger prints alone the front. A needle and some thread are missing, easily found in Fuyuhiko’s shaky left hand.

The fucker just had to break his right hand, huh.

He takes a deep breath and gets to work. Happy birthday indeed.)

 //

 “Hey,” Kazuichi says. “Happy birthday.”

Hajime smiles and lifts a hand to rest on Kazuichi’s shoulder. “Thanks, Kaz. So, did you build a robot to sleep for me?”

“No.”

“You’re a terrible friend and I hate you.”

Kazuichi snorts. “I did buy you a coffee though,” he adds, bringing a hot cup out from where he’d been hiding it behind his back.

“You’re the love of my life,” Hajime replies, very seriously.

Kazuichi wrinkles his nose. “Gross.”

Hajime looks at him, offended. “Excuse you.” He lifts the cup to his mouth and is instantly grateful for the heat. At this point he’s ninety percent sure his bloodstream is entirely made up of caffeine.

“So how was your history lecture?” Kazuichi asks, hopping up to sit on the wall next to him, his legs swinging. Hajime doesn’t know how Kaz is able to make his jeans look as though they’re meant to have those holes in the knees, but he doesn’t question it.

“Fine, I guess. Learned some more about Mary, Queen of Scots but I already knew most of the information.”

“Nerd,” Kazuichi says. Hajime elbows him in the ribs.

“What about you?” Hajime asks in return. He lifts his cup to his mouth as he waits for an answer and almost spits out the liquid because that was definitely not coffee. It tasted like herbal tea which Hajime has sworn off because of an incident involving spilling some of it down his front before his high school prom.

“What?” Kazuichi exclaims, leaning away from Hajime’s disgusted expression.

Hajime forces it down his throat only because there is a nice old lady standing just in front of him, waiting on the same bus as them, and he doesn’t think she’d appreciate being spit on. Besides, they’d need to share a bus together and really, he’s looking out for Future-Hajime who would have to bear the aftermath of that particular action.

“That wasn’t coffee,” Hajime chokes out. “That was herbal tea.”

“What, like from prom?” Kazuichi reaches over and takes the cup from Hajime’s hand and takes a swig himself. “No, that’s coffee. And very strong coffee, just like you need it in order to function.” Kazuichi frowns at him. “Are you ok?”

Hajime takes the cup back and drinks from it again. Coffee. He shakes his head to clear it and forces a smile. “Yeah, I’m just tired. Don’t worry about it.”

(Elsewhere, Fuyuhiko takes a sip of his herbal tea and spit it out a mouthful of what tastes like someone dumped lightly watered coffee beans into his mouth. It goes all over his new book and jolts his broken knuckle.

He is having a lousy fucking day. But now he has a weird urge to re-read his worn book on Scottish History, which is very odd considering he just read it but that’s life he supposes. Broken knuckles, tea that tastes like coffee and re-reading old books.)

 //

 Later that night, Peko sits beside her mother’s bed. She has fallen asleep, but she shivers weakly every so often despite the two blankets Peko has laid over her. Her mother is ill, and she feels useless, just as she does every time she comes home, and her mother has been unable to leave her bed on her own the entire time she was gone. It’s bearable when she has night shifts at least, so there are small mercies.

Peko sighs and grinds the heels of her palms into her eyes until there are little black spots in her vision when she pulls them away. She has been up for almost twenty-four hours and her body is starting to feel it. She glances at her mother again. They say it’s a motor neuron disorder, a disorder which leaves her muscles weak and sore. The doctor had told her that there wasn’t a cure and she had put her fist through a wall.

She stands and goes to get another blanket because her mum is cold because the bloody heating is broken, and her piece of shit landlord won’t let it get fixed until Monday when suddenly she isn’t in her small apartment, she’s in a ball room.

There are people milling around her, carrying flutes of champagne, some wearing sweeping gowns that swish and swirl and others are wearing inky black suits with crisp white shirts underneath them.

She looks down and she’s wearing a dress of her own, all baby pink and cute. She feels shorter than usual, even though she lifts the skirt of her dress and she’s wearing high heels.

Someone touches her arm and she jumps but when she turns, she sees a kind face peering down at her. “Are you alright, dear? I did try to tell your grandmother to tone it down a bit, but you know what she’s like,” the old gentleman says, chuckling slightly.

She opens her mouth to reply but she’s back in her mother’s bedroom, all the blankets in her home piled on top of her mother who has stopped shivering. Peko could cry from relief.

(Back at the gala, Chiaki excuses herself and sits on the patio and cries because that sick woman had looked just like her mother had and suddenly she isn’t Chiaki Nanami, 20-year-old coding genius, with her own house and a good career, she’s just nine again, crying under her duvet because her mother is sick and isn’t going to get better, no matter how many stars she wishes on.)

 //

 Fuyuhiko lies on his bed and stares at his alarm clock. In two minutes, his birthday will be over, over until next year. He wonders if his father remembers or even cared enough in the first place to make a note of it. Sometimes he likes to think that his mother would have cared but she died too young for him to actually make an informed guess on what their relationship could have been.

He shifts around, trying to find a comfortable position, turns to face away from his clock and comes face to face with a woman.

A very pretty woman. Her eyes are crimson and though he hates the colour, too much of it has stained his skin for him to find a liking for it, he can see the appeal of it now. Her hair is silver and curls lightly over pyjamas which have little Disney logos on them – adorable, he almost snorts.

The woman in his bed is very beautiful. The woman in his bed is cute. There is a woman in his bed.

He jerks back, off his bed and goes to grab the gun under his pillow, wondering if this is some sick joke his uncle is playing on him or if this is going to be the assassination attempt that will finally work because he got distracted by a pretty face but when he aims his gun, he’s pointing it at empty sheets.

He blinks a few times, checks under his bed and in the bathroom but she’s gone. He rubs a hand down his face and begins to pack up all his stuff. He’ll find somewhere else to sleep – someone knew he’s here and already the itch of paranoia ticks inside his skull. Maybe he can steal some of the sheets, the streets would be a lot comfier with them.

(Peko holds her heart and breathes deeply. There had been a man in her bed. A nice-looking man. A dangerous man if the scar above his eye meant anything. And he had been shirtless. Peko feels her face flush and hides the colouring by shoving her face into her pillow. It’s too late at night to be thinking of such things, now is the time for sleep.

(She doesn’t get to sleep for hours, the cold somehow much worse, as though she were outside instead of in her bedroom.))

 //

 Hajime climbs into bed after he finally finishes his assessment and submits it, and he checks the time and realises his birthday has been over for a few minutes now.

He rolls out of bed because he forgot to brush his teeth but just as he has the toothpaste on his brush, he sticks it in his mouth and looks into the mirror and a pale girl peers back at him.

She’s very lovely, with blonde hair that brushes the top of her shoulders and pale eyes that blink rapidly if a bit sleepily.

She reaches forward and touches the mirror with her hand. He does the same.

She stares at him and leans forward and mouths, “Who are you?”

Hajime smiles and thinks that this is one of the more entertaining dreams he’s had in a while. “I don’t know,” he mouths back because he doesn’t want to be Hajime right now. He wants to be someone else, someone who looks into his mirror and sees pretty girls instead of his own sorry reflection.

She huffs and looks adorable with her cheeks puffed out. “Shut up,” she says out loud and ducks out of sight just to end their conversation, all because of Hajime’s ability to always be a little shit.

His own reflection returns, and he sighs and finishes brushing his teeth and heads to bed, for real this time.

(Chiaki stands back up, but the boy is gone. He had looked tired but good-looking with olive skin and dark, fluffy hair.

It was as good an end to her birthday that she’s ever gotten, and she falls asleep with a smile on her face that no one sees.)