#it's been three years but the confession scene still lives rent free in my head

[zunaki]

Love is real y'all 😭😭

[ikeromantic]

Fake It Til You Make It

A Mitsuhide Akechi fanfiction - approx. 2200 words. This scene takes place post-romantic epilogue. Fluff and a little spice.

First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden

Previous: Adrift

Kyubei watched the innkeeper through narrowed eyes. Though the man was clearly nervous, he didn’t seem to be lying. His story hadn’t changed in the last three tellings, so either he was an accomplished liar or he was telling the truth.

“L-lord Akechi and the woman left with one of the Akechi warriors. Right after we saw the fire across the lake,” the innkeeper said for the fourth time. “Then the storm came and after that, no one saw him.”

“Do you remember anything else? Did anyone else come in after they left? Did you see anyone acting strangely?”

The man shook his head. “No, I mean, not really? Everyone was a bit strange after we saw the blaze. Wondering if Azuchi was still standing.” He frowned. “You think it might have been Lord Akechi? Him disappearing like that right after -”

Kyubei cut him off. “No. That was the work of the Mouri clan.” It wasn’t the first person he’d spoken with that suspected. And why wouldn’t they? Mitsuhide was only just back from his misadventure at the shogun’s side. An ally in disgrace. A man not to be trusted.

The worst part of all this was that Kyubei really had no idea what his lord wanted him to do. Should he quash the rumors? Encourage them? Mitsuhide’s instructions from his last letter said nothing about an attack on Azuchi - not like this - and nothing about disappearing. Of course, he pretended like he knew exactly what was going on. He had to, until he received additional instructions.

“So . . . am I free to go?” The innkeeper was frowning now. His nervousness replaced by a desire to get back to making money at the inn.

“For now,” Kyubei said. He gave the man a hard stare. “If I need anything else, I will send someone for you.”

The innkeeper bowed and left, leaving Kyubei alone with his thoughts. It really seemed that in the storm, his lord had simply vanished into thin air. And Miyake too.

Perhaps they'd left with Ranmaru, who was also missing. But if so, there would be a letter. A message. Something!

The castle staff had no idea where he was - they’d waited for him to return for hours. Miyake’s squad couldn’t find their commander either. Both men were expected.

And the chatelaine . . . his lady. Kyubei worried that he had failed to protect her again.

***

Morning came with pale light through a high window. It fell across four careworn, sleeping faces. Sasuke and Miyake lay in a tangle of blankets on the floor, and in a bed, Mitsuhide clung to his little mouse. He woke with the first notes of bird-song, but kept his eyes shut. He wasn’t ready to confront the strange world of 500 years in the future just yet.

His little one stirred in his arms as the sound of morning birds turned into a hum of outside activity. “Is it . . . are we really . . .” She opened her eyes and looked around Sarutobi’s flat. “We’re really here.”

Mitsuhide nodded.

“I want to be happy about it, but . . .”

He shushed her with a kiss. “It will be fine. Worrying won’t return us faster.”

She sighed and buried her face against his chest. “I know. I just hope everyone is alright.”

“They will be,” Mitsuhide reassured her. He didn’t think of it as a lie - simply an assumption he based on his past experience. Nobunaga would handle this threat as he did others that came before it.

And Kyubei would see to what the left hand needed to be doing.

Sasuke sat up, rubbing his face. “I apologize for the accommodations,” he told them. The same apology he’d given the night before.

“At least we had somewhere to sleep.” The chatelaine sat up and wiggled out of the blanket. “I should probably check on my flat and see if it’s still mine. If so, we won't have to impose on you a second night. Although,” she sighed. “I don’t have my ID or my keys or anything.”

“I don't mind,” Sasuke replied. “You are welcome to continue crashing here. Although, we may not be here for long. Weren’t there activities you wanted to do in this time? While you can?” His left eyebrow lifted almost imperceptibly.

Mitsuhide gave her one of his slow, warm smiles. His fingers traced a path down her spine. “Yes, you did mention some things I would like to see, since we are here.”

His little mouse arched like a cat against his hand. “I did . . . yes. Alright. Since we’re here, we might as well try to enjoy it!”

Miyake rolled over on the floor and pulled the blanket over his head.

“I take it that means you plan to stay here for the day?”

Sasuke answered for the half-asleep warrior. “Actually, I would really appreciate it if Miyake would accompany me. I need to go to my university and make some arrangements.”

Miyake groaned and sat up. He blinked as his gaze went around the room, taking in all the strange objects. Finally, he settled on the ninja. “You need protection or something?”

“No. I don’t think anyone will attack me.” Sasuke felt around for his glasses and slid them on. “But I expect to be moving some heavy equipment in the lab. And I may have a friend who can help us out with those arrangements, if you're there to corroborate my story.”

“Corr what?” Miyake frowned.

“Authenticate. Like a two factor security key.” The ninja grinned.

The warrior looked to Mitsuhide uncertainly.

“If Sarutobi believes you can assist him today, then that is what you will do. I am sure my fiancée and I will be fine.”

The chatelaine looked less certain about this, but she nodded agreement.

The four of them took turns dressing in the ‘washroom’ to give each other privacy. His morning was one of surprise as the . . . toilet . . . squirted him with water. And warm or cold water came from a metal spigot at the turn of a handle too, spilling into a porcelain basin. There were more smokeless lanterns - electric lights they were called - and other wonders.

Had Mitsunari been there, he was sure the scholar could have spent weeks studying every device but Mitsuhide just needed to know how to use it.

In this place, he was the naïve child, and his little one, the wise teacher. Such a shift in their positions was hard to take. Mitsuhide didn’t think of himself as arrogant but this situation was humbling in the extreme. Thankfully, he managed to get through dressing and breakfast without any serious mishaps.

Sasuke and Miyake left to the university. The flat was silent in their wake. Mitsuhide and his little mouse sat on the edge of the bed. She was tapping away at a . . . tablet . . . to get access to her accounts. The electronic scroll was interesting, at least. With pictures and writing all lit up so you could read it even in the dark.

Mitsuhide stood and stretched, trying to get used to moving in his new clothes. They were Sarutobi’s and didn’t quite fit. He was dressed in a pair of pants that clung tightly to his legs and ended short of his ankle. The top was a soft weave, dyed black. It sported an odd blue character on it and the word Sonic. Sarutobi said the picture was a hedgehog, whatever that was.

He would have liked to wear something without a picture on it. He’d had the choice between this one and something with a lizard that walked on two legs and shot fire from its mouth. Those were the only two shirts the ninja had that were long enough to cover him to his waist. And there was no way he was walking around with a bare midriff. Even if his little mouse looked interested in the idea.

Her midriff was bare afterall, she’d laughed. And it was - sort of. She tied one of Sasuke’s shirts in a bow under her breasts and had a pair of his shorts on. Though Mitsuhide wasn’t familiar with the clothes of this time, he thought she looked like a child trying to fit into her father’s clothes. Endearingly cute, but ill fit. Some of the clothes they saw women wearing on the way in the night before would have looked much better on her.

She looked up as if she knew he was thinking about her. “Ok, I think we’re ready to go.”

“Where to, my love?”

“Well, first to my apartment. It looks like my rent payments have all been made. And the building manager knows me so I should be able to get a spare key.” Her smile was all relief.

They arrived to the apartment, a small space in a tall building that reminded Mitsuhide of a castle, if the castle was robbed of all charm and beauty. Her room was utilitarian and sterile, and while there was still the wonder of technology, he could see none of her personality in the space. He said as much.

“Hm, yeah. I didn’t really have time to decorate. The apartment came furnished. I moved in and then, well,” she laughed. “I ended up in Azuchi with you.”

Mitsuhide pulled her into a hug. “A fate worse than death, little mouse?”

“You know it wasn’t,” she giggled, laughing harder as he ran his fingers down her sensitive sides. Holding her like this felt like home, even if nothing else was familiar.

After several slow breaths, they let go of each other.

“I must confess, I cannot see you living in this place. It doesn’t seem very safe. And you don’t have much room for your sewing.” Mitsuhide couldn’t help but poke into her cabinets, shelves, and drawers.

She nodded. “Yeah, it’s pretty small but it was a place I could afford on my own.”

Mitsuhide heard the pride in her voice. He smiled. “I can imagine you coming here, determined to make it on your own.” He turned from the cabinet he was inspecting to see her stripping off her shirt.

Her pert breasts were a pleasant surprise, but she crossed her arms over them as soon as she saw him looking. “I’m just changing clothes! I didn’t want to wear Sasuke’s basketball shorts all day.”

“Please, continue.”

“I - I can’t while you’re staring at me!” She turned so that all he could see was her back.

Mitsuhide laughed. “Are we not lovers? How many times have I kissed, nibbled, caressed every bit of your skin from head to toe?”

She shivered, skin dimpling with remembered touches. Slow, nervous, she turned back around. Her arms lowered, revealing her chest again. “You can watch if you want to.”

He wasn’t sure if it was nerves or mischief that made her voice squeak at the end. Either was amusing. “Mmm, I’m a lucky man to get a show.”

“You are,” she smiled. Her fingers went to the tie on the shorts. They fell away, pooling around her feet. Underneath, she wore nothing.

Mitsuhide sucked in a breath.

Her hips swayed as she walked to her wardrobe. She glanced over her shoulder at him and fluttered her eyelashes, trying to be saucy. The effect was a little spoiled by the blush that ran from her cheeks to the tips of her ears. From within the wardrobe she pulled out a little twist of cloth. It was light blue and made of some embroidered material.

He didn’t realize he could see her skin through it until she slipped it on, slowly pulling the fabric taut over her curves. Though she was technically covered, it was somehow more tempting than just skin alone. “What . . . is that?”

“Panties.” She giggled. Then she pulled out a matching bit of cloth and wrapped it around her chest. The rise of her breasts were restrained by this new piece of clothing as she reached behind her as if to tie it.

“And that?”

“My bra.” She turned right, then left, letting him get a good view.

The sight made Mitsuhide want to simultaneously rip the clothing off her and still enjoy looking at her in them. It wasn’t possible to have both . . .

“To be honest, it’s been kind of nice not wearing these the last few months. But I think I would feel weird if I didn’t wear them with my modern clothes.”

“I like them.” Mitsuhide smiled widely. A grin that brought heat to her gaze before she looked away, suddenly shy. He knew this ground well. Even here in a world where everything was strange, his little one was the same.

He stepped forward, reaching to cup her cheek. His other hand settled lightly on her hip, fingertips stroking the skin just above the fabric of her panties. She inhaled sharply, lips parting. Mitsuhide took the invitation.

The kiss was, at first, gentle and sweet, but the press of their bodies built heat between them. Their breath mingled, tongues entwined. Hands grasping, stroking, pulling. Tearing.

Mitsuhide stopped at the sound of fabric ripping.

His little one gasped and reached down to feel the damage. Her eyes widened. “You . . . tore my panties.” Then she started to laugh.

He laughed too. Never in his life had he expected a woman so wonderful. A woman he would want badly enough to - literally - tear the clothes off her. This kind of passion he’d always believed was fake. Yet here he was. It was unthinkable. Incredible. “I love you,” Mitsuhide told her, smiling so widely that it hurt.

“I love you too.”

She gestured to the wardrobe. "I should probably, you know. Finish." It took only a moment for her to shimmy into her own clothes. Then they headed out into this strange world that was his home 500 years after death.

Next: Kitsune's Day Out

[de-sire-blog]

Ok, babes. 2, 9 and 18 please. I'd love to know your favourite fic.

Happy weekend! 🧡🧡

Hi, babe, thank you for asking! ❤️

2) What fanfic do you wish you got more response on?

The obvious answer (when looking at the numbers) would be 'I found you' but, actually, I really feel like (R)evolution didn't get as much engagement as I hoped it would. I told you this before but I think it has something to do with me posting it over the Christmas period where a lot of people were busy and had other stuff to do. Or you guys just didn't like the idea very much, that's fine though :) I don't want to come across as ungrateful! People who liked it really liked it, you know?

9) What’s your favorite line(s) or scene(s) that you have written?

Oof... I wrote over 260k words in 2021, I don't think I can remember the specifics all that well, so maybe some good ones are escaping me. But I will give a short snippet (a line? pff I can't do that) and a scene for each of the big three fics I posted!

The Lab: definitely the first Prague scene when they are sitting by the water iykyk ❤️

Remus kisses him then, right in the middle of the street, completely unbothered by the looks of people around them. Sirius hums, surprised, and tugs him to the side, afraid to be tramped over by annoyed tourists. Remus smells like summer, like sun and blue skies, like coffee and his heavy aftershave. He smells like home.

(R)evolution: the scene where Sirius finds Remus hurt after the full moon and has a lot of thoughts about falling in love, contradicting himself basically in the same breath :) It was such joy to write that thought process!

He thinks about his brash words about doing the right thing no matter what and wants to shake his head disappointedly at the version of himself from ten minutes ago as if it has been ten years. Because he would die to do the right thing, but he would also do the worst for Remus and not even think twice.

Berlin Angel: the scene where Remus tells Sirius he loves him for the first time, obviously! The best of them all!

It still feels like a dream. Not just the last days – the sudden change in their relationship, all the small and big confessions, all the jokes, and questions, and heads thrown back in ecstasy. The whole thing, all the way since Sirius saw Remus for the first time. All the time he’s been in Berlin now. Sirius is sure Berlin is just a simulation – a product of his imagination, pulled out from the furthest corners of his mind, filled with his worst fears and truest wishes.

18. Recommend someone else's fic! (And tag them if they have a tumblr!)

I have a collection of my favourite wolfstar fics on AO3, if you want to check it out. But I would like to point out two that live in my head rent-free since I read them (and probably will forever) and that's Just what the doctor ordered by the wonderful @wolfstarting and Primavera by my goddamn icon @quoththethestral

[ourstarscollided]

jatp fanworks appreciation - day 1 (writers)

motivation - so in true me fashion and my aversion to brevity, i've made three (3) posts (see also artists, gifs/edits) to celebrate the wonderful people in this fandom who have made my jatp tumblr experience what it is; a community of people who simply shout into the void about their love of a ghost band and their fearless female leader. i've enjoyed simply being on the sidelines admiring everyone's love for the show, but i thought this would be a good time to really show my appreciation for all these wonderful people, because if i've learned anything from this pandemic, it's that there is NEVER a wrong time to tell someone that they are simply ✨the best✨.

disclaimer: i don't interact with most of these people personally and i simply absorb their content from afar and scream about how wonderful they are in the tags.

This list kind of became a fic rec, so if you're looking for some wonderful fics to read (or reread), I've also included my favs from the author here as well.

Okay this is gonna get a little long so please bear with me. But I just wanted to preamble this by saying that the fanfiction written by the jatp fandom is what resparked my love for reading fiction after about 3-4 years of not reading for leisure (be an adult they said. it'll be fun they said.). So I'm really grateful for that? I don't interact with a lot of people, just because it makes me a little anxious, but I will constantly yell about your content in the tags as if I were on a set of bleachers with a megaphone.

I also know there are so many wonderful fic writers out there (on Tumblr and not on Tumblr) that make amazing pieces of work, and this is just a tiny peek into that, and is not at all conclusive.

Without further ado here are some writers who live rent free in my head, in alphabetical order, so feel free to just skip to your name to avoid my rambling:

@bluefirewrites -> your Merry Ex-Mas fic had me on the edge of my seat every single time you updated. I am so in love with how you wrote the characters into this and at how many words you churned out for this fic. This was filled with so much adventure, and it was really welcome during a time when the world wasn't allowed to travel. And I simply love all the other drabbles and fics you write, but I especially enjoy the hilarity of Ray Molina, Crime Scene Photographer and Matchmaker.

@captainkippen -> I'm pretty sure Love Drunk was one of the first fics I ever read in this fandom. Your stories and your writing feel so goddamn real and I find myself so immersed in the worlds that you've created. I have reread most of your jatp fics and I still manage to find myself stupidly grinning at my phone each time. Your stories flow so easily and are such perfect characterizations of the characters we know from the show, but elevated to fit into your verse. I cannot say enough how wonderful your writing is and how talented you are!! (also a slight nudge that I am still very much following along with The Key and the Crown and I hope you continue it!)

@catty-words -> Your???? Exhaustive??? Music??? Lists???? The amount of work and dedication and microanalyzing that you put into pulling out every detail from each scene is so admirable. You not only manage to find the details, but you also give us EVIDENCE via your intricately selected gifs. You could've just put the video of the performance, but no, you take your time to find that specific 1 second shot to emphasize your point. And your little fics that you sometimes throw out into the world? They're so beautiful, and so fun to read and I enjoy them so much! (I am STILL screaming about this band's a snack) Thank you for validating my yelling in the tags, and for feeding my hyperfixation to this show. (I'm sad these lists are ending soon, but it's about the journey ya know?)

@lydias--stiles -> I don't even know what to say here because I've yelled so much about your fics that I feel like there's really nothing else to yell. Your Road Trip AU was also one of the first ones I read in this fandom, and really just made me go absolutely feral. Pretty sure I absorbed the rest of your fics in an ungodly amount of time and I just simply think you are incredibly skilled and talented. Every time you post a new fic I always wonder what it's like to be in your head because the ideas you come up with are so unique and so well thought out. Thank you for all the art you create for this show, I will constantly be in awe of you. (Special shoutout to the 5+1 fic that became a 31 chapter monster)

@pearlcaddy -> This list would not be complete if I didn't mention you. First of all, thank you for suggesting this wonderful week, it has been so lovely to see so much love being spread around today. Secondly, I never thought I'd find myself reading a Buffy or a Wizarding World crossover fic, considering I know nothing about those two things. And yet I found myself on various nights after work at 3 in the morning just silently screaming and/or crying into my phone. Your writing is so insane. Your world building is so insane. Your banter/dialogue is insane. The way you capture the love between Julie/Luke in different universes is so perfect. Thank you for gifting us these beautiful pieces of art, and I hope you know that you have at least made one person (me) a very happy reader. I also really admire your dedication to "this will only be a oneshot", only to write like 4 other POVs for it. (Special shoutout to 100 Bad Days)

@ruzek-halstead -> Literally every single fic you have written lives rent free in my head. The way you've managed to build this universe of different Julies and Lukes, and each one still captures the essence of them is astounding. You've extended their characters beyond what we know from the show and I am just in awe of everything you write. Please know that dead of night is both triggering to me and yet the most hilarious thing I have read. (Special shoutout to the Fake Dating Christmas AU and of course the Cinderella Story AU)

@serendipitee -> Your stories and your writing are absolutely magical. I think Write It Down was one of the first multi-chapter fics that I followed super closely and whenever you updated, I would literally drop what I was doing and read it instantly. You have such a way of building the plot and the characters for all of your fics and drabbles, and making the reader just want more. Please know that I am so obsessed with Oh, She Waltzed With the Dead and I cannot wait to see where you take the story!

@sunsetcurbed -> I have no words for your writing. I am simply in awe every time I read something from you. The way you've got down Alex and Willie's voice to a tee is so crazy good. You write their characters and their stories with such grace and care, especially with how you approach the topic of mental health. Thank you for all the research you do and for also writing in your own experiences. I literally binged the Princes Diaries AU during work and lost a good half day to it, and I regret nothing because that fic left me in SHAMBLES. I secretly adore the way you say you're going to keep a fic short, and end up writing an insane amount of words for it. (I have not yet left my obligated long-ass comment on Chapter 4 of the College AU yet because I am still processing the fate/destiny concept.)

@tangledstarlight -> Gahh. Rosie. Please. This is going to sound a little repetitive considering I just screamed at you last night, but now I guess I will just have to publicly confess my adoration for you!!! Thank you for being my first online friend in a very long time, and for putting up with me yelling at you about everything (and also nothing at the same time). I can't believe all it took was one message about your Royals AU for you to post it, but I will gladly take that credit any day. You are so so so incredibly talented with your writing, and your ability to transport me to another world while I read your fics is unparalleled. I adore the way you can come up with a new story to write every day, and then proceed to throw it into your pot of other WIPs. I am so so so so lucky to have gotten to know you and am incredibly grateful that I now have someone to cry about everything with 🧡 (If you read anything from Rosie, you need to read her Seasons/Long Distance Juke "friendship" fic and the Reggie x Photography oneshot that made me bawl my eyes out.)

@thedeathdeelers -> No thoughts. Just soulmates. Jk jk, you know I love your Reggie x Ray x Carlos fics, and I will scream in the tags about it until the day I get more of those fics from you. This is lowkey a threat, but wrapped in kindness. You are so wonderful to see on my dash (albeit scary at times because of the sheer amount of headcanons and theories running through your head), but you radiate such positive energy that it's impossible to not want to jump in and scream about soulmates with you.

Some special mentions to fics that also live rent free in my head:

@sunsetsandcurves wrote a Willex Cruise Ship AU inspired by a Simple Plan song and it’s something I never knew I needed until I read it. 

@phantom-curve wrote a Juke fic based off of Coney Island and I would just like to say, yes, it did shatter me. (Here’s the fluff sequel that makes up for it though)

@unsaidjulie wrote the Juke dog fic of my dreams and I simply cannot express how much I want the Molina’s to have a dog now. 

@pawprinterfanfic managed to get me incredibly invested in a Star Wars AU even though I know absolutely nothing about Star Wars. I just know that I would die for two (2) space boys. 

@sanssssastark  your Later universe made me realize that I do very much want there to be more mature content for this fandom (and you constantly deliver).

@theobligatedklutz wrote a Tangled Willex AU that makes me screech every time there’s an update. Just read it.

@alexthedrummerboy your talent knows no bounds when it comes to your Social Media AU. Also she’s written ORIGINAL songs for Alex and Willie?!?!?! 

@gennified has this really wonderful modern take on pride and prejudice for Willex and I’m so obsessed with how much miscommunication there is.

@bananaleaves okay, I just found your Tumblr today, and I know you don’t know me in any capacity, but allow me to scream about THIS FIC RIGHT HERE. If anyone in this fandom is to read ANYTHING, it’s this fic. This was one of the best things I’ve read in a long time and absolutely wrecked me. Please just read this.

This turned out WAY longer than it was supposed to, and I’m SO SORRY. (I also tried to make sure I got everyone’s pronouns right, so PLEASE let me know if they’re wrong!) A final sincere thank you to everyone in this fandom who writes. Your talent knows no bounds. Gonna stop talking now before this becomes an essay....

[westallenfun]

Home for Christmas - 3/3

WestAllen secret santa gift

From: @backtothestart02

For: @cheryls-blossomed

Merry Christmas, Mailina! I did my best to write up a short multi rom-com au for you. I hope you enjoy it and have a wonderful holiday!!

Chapter 3 -

Barry looked down at the sled they’d used as children and knew immediately that it wasn’t going to work. The pained look on his face only lessened slightly when he saw how excited Iris was beside him.

“Iris, no,” he tried, but she turned to him with an adorable pout on her face and her fingers folded beneath her chin.

He laughed.

“There’s no way we can fit on this anymore.”

Her pout only deepened.

“Iris! Just…just look.”

He picked up the sled that now only fell to his knees and was skinnier than the width of his body.

Iris held in a chuckle when he held it flat against his body. She pursed her lips tightly before getting control of herself.

“You’re not laying down in it, Barry. Just your legs and your butt have to fit into it.”

“My legs are too long for it!” he squeaked. “And where will you go?”

“Between your legs,” she said easily. “Or…on your lap if that doesn’t work.”

“Iris.” He sighed.

“Just…trust me.” She took his hand in hers and pulled him with her down the block towards the park with the huge snow hill. “We didn’t get all dressed up in snowpants and snow gear to bail now.”

“Can’t we just…rent a new sled? One that will fit both of us?”

She laughed. “It’s a park, Barry, not a ski lodge.”

He groaned but walked with her the rest of the way. In no time they were at the park and at the top of the hill. It was fairly large for a park hill, and luckily wide across too, because kids from all around were scattered about waiting to go. But Barry stood where he was, staring down at the child’s sled and deeply regretting letting Iris talk him into this.

“Sit,” Iris ordered.

“I’m not gonna fit, Iris.”

“I don’t think your hips are as wide as you think they are.”

He glanced at her and noticed she was on the verge of laughter again. Was he really so funny? Maybe he was just funny-looking. Heat swallowed up his cheeks, though they were already pink from the cold so luckily Iris couldn’t tell he was blushing.

“Just try it.”

He groaned but did as he was told, and to his surprise, his butt fit into the sled just fine. It was snug, but it still fit. He was pleased until he sensed Iris practically gloating over him.

“Just get on,” he muttered.

She laughed and sat in front of him on his lap. There wasn’t really room between his legs, as he’d predicted. But her butt was nestled perfectly on his crotch, and she was ready to go. Barry did his best to think of anything but her butt fitting so nicely on top of him. It wasn’t easy, but he was determined not to make this any more awkward than it had occasionally been.

“So, how do we go now?” he asked, his voice strained.

“Well, you push us,” she said, as if it was obvious.

“How do I-”

“Put your hands on either side of you in the snow and push.”

He sighed testily but did as he was told.

“I don’t think this is going to wo-”

Before he could finish his sentence, a swift kick from the person behind them hit the back of the sled, and off they went flying down the hill, nearly toppling over from one side to the next with the weight of the two of them rocking the sled.

“Ahhh!” Barry cried, as Iris squealed in delight.

She took his hands tightly clutching the sides of the sled and wrapped them around her waist. He could hardly breathe. Her coat was puffy, but he could somehow feel her figure beneath the cushy material. It made him dazed and forget all about the size of the sled they were in.

“Oh, that was great! Wasn’t it?” Iris easily hopped out of the sled, pulling his arms free of her. “Barry.”

He blinked. “What?” He looked up at her.

“Wasn’t that great?” she emphasized.

He blinked a few more times, then said, “Yeah, great.”

She rolled her eyes.

“You’re impossible.” She pulled him up out of the sled, even though it stuck to his behind for a few moments before dropping to the ground. “Just like I remember you,” she said breathlessly, looking up at him with wide eyes.

He knew why. They were unbelievably close to each other’s faces until he straightened knees and stood up fully. He knew why it would rattle him, but why should it rattle Iris?

“Want to get some hot chocolate?” he asked, gesturing to the small stand that was set up on the far side of the park. He was sure Iris would want to take the sled down the snow hill more than once, but if he could help it, maybe they could wait a while before trying again.

“Sure.”

She smiled tremulously, confusing him, but she still took her hand in his and headed across the park to the hot chocolate stand. Iris paid, given that Barry was broke, and he looked at her apologetically. She brushed it off as nothing. She wanted to treat him, she said. Then they found a bench a little way’s away from the crowd of kids and took a seat.

“Thanks for this, Iris. It’s really nice.”

“No problem.”

She smiled and brought the hot chocolate to her lips. They drank in silence for a while until Iris apparently spotted a chocolate stain above Barry’s upper lip and reached to remove it, removing her glove first.

Barry’s lips parted in surprise at the movement, and Iris ended up brushing his lips before she pulled her hand back and quickly slipped it back inside her glove.

“Umm…” Barry tried.

“You had a uh…hot chocolate mustache.” Iris cleared her throat.

“Thanks.”

“Sure.”

Iris fiddled with her hands in her lap, avoiding his gaze, which set off warning bells in Barry’s head.

Had he done something wrong?

“Iris…”

“Yeah?” Her head whipped around, and she quickly looked up at him.

He adjusted her scarf, so it was wrapped more snugly around her neck.

“Is something wrong?”

She bit her bottom lip, and their eyes met. All of a sudden all else faded away, and Barry had never been so sure of something in all his life. Iris didn’t move, but he did, descending towards her face with certainty and all intention of kissing her.

“Barry-”

“I’m in love with y-”

“I have a boyfr…iend.”

Her eyes opened, and she stared deeply into his eyes, removing her hand from his chest.

“I’ve loved you since we were kids,” he said, unthwarted by her confession.

“I’m bringing him to the party,” Iris said, tears starting to well in her eyes.

Barry licked his lips.

“Do you regret this week?” he asked, referring of course to the three full days they’d spent hanging out.

“No!” she said quickly. “Absolutely not. I just…”

“No kissing,” he finished her thought.

She swallowed. “Right.”

“Got it.” He paused. “Can I kiss your cheek at least?”

“…I guess.”

So, Barry leaned in and pressed his lips to her icy cold cheek, warming it a little. Iris’ eyes closed, and she savored the touch.

She knew in that moment, she was in big, big trouble.

…

Christmas Eve came the next day. And despite the fact that Barry and Iris had had a very pleasant rest of the day the day before, they didn’t so much as share a phone call the next day. Iris began to worry that she’d been too harsh with him, but thinking about their uncomfortable conversation at the park, she couldn’t think of any other way it could’ve been handled.

The truth was, the reason they’d even gotten into the predicament they were in was largely due to her own confused mind. Because from the minute she’d seen him inside her old bedroom and the name linked with his handsome figure had clicked, she’d been unable to stop thinking about him.

Barry Allen. Her best friend from childhood. The first boy she’d had a crush on. The Barry she’d put on such a high pedestal in her mind and heart that none of the boys she’d dated had even come close to. And the more time she spent with him over the course of the last few days, the more time she wanted to spend with him.

She didn’t want him to leave after the holiday. She wanted him to leave whatever life he’d left behind two states away and stay in Central City with her.

Not in her apartment! Not unless he wanted to. Not if-

If you had a boyfriend, Iris West? Because you do. His name is Eddie Thawne.

But they’d only been dating a month.

Eddie was attractive and sweet, and he adored her. Up until this week, she thought she felt the same.

I do feel the same…

Then why did she hesitate?

Because you’re in love with your best friend. Duh.

When she got dressed that evening, she didn’t get dressed for Eddie. When she chose the velvet red off-the-shoulder dress that hit at mid-thigh with ruby lipstick, dangly earrings, and three-inch black high heels, she hadn’t been thinking of Eddie. When she bought presents earlier in the week, the one she thought of with more care wasn’t Eddie’s. All of it was Barry’s.

Barry’s return to her life had sparked something in her that grew more with every day. In fact, it wasn’t until their official almost-kiss that she remembered she even had a boyfriend. She’d had to fill in Eddie before the party as to why she’d been so MIA this week. He understood, but he didn’t really, and she knew she had to explain it to him as soon as possible.

Sitting on his lap on the couch in the living room, Iris spoke almost to herself when she said, “I think we have to break up.”

“Hmm?” Eddie asked, seemingly having not heard her.

Reluctantly, she turned on his lap to meet his eyes.

“I think we have to break up.”

His lips parted.

“What?”

“I’m in love with someone else.”

“Who?” he asked, incredulous. “Your best friend?”

She winced and gave him a look that said well, yeah.

“You’ve only been with him three days! And before that you hadn’t seen him for 15 years! And you were kids. Kids don’t-”

“Fall in love?” she offered.

His eyebrows narrowed.

“Well, I never fell in love at 10 years old.”

“Maybe you never met anyone special.”

“Iris!” His voice rose.

“Shh!” She stood to her feet and pulled him to his, leading him into the dining room where currently no one else inhabited. “Don’t cause a scene.”

He scoffed.

“I’m sorry, but you’re the one breaking up with me. I should get something out of it.”

She glared and propped one hand on her hip.

“I was going to kiss you under the mistletoe, Iris. I bought a really nice present for you.”

“I bought a present for you too! I’ll still give it to you!”

He scoffed again. “Forget it. Not if you’re breaking up with me. I don’t want it.”

Her shoulders slumped.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re sure about this?”

She nodded. “I am.”

“Because we have something really good going here.”

“I know we do.”

“I’m not going to take you back if a week from now you decide whatever you’re feeling right now wasn’t real.”

“But it is real,” she insisted. “It’s more real than anything I’ve ever felt in my life.”

“More real than your feelings for me?”

“I don’t think I…have feelings for you anymore.”

His jaw dropped. “Iris! Just last week you-”

“I know, I know! You don’t think I know how crazy this sounds? I do! But…”

“But what?”

“Barry is leaving in two days. Unless I tell him how I feel, the truth of how I feel, and that’s that I’m in love with him. It was just a crush when we were kids, but it’s turned into something I could have never expected. Ever since he showed up earlier this week, I can’t stop-”

“Okay, okay,” he said, softening. “I really don’t need to hear about how in love you are with someone else.”

“I’m sorry,” she said weakly. “I really am.”

“Yeah, well…I should probably get going.”

“No, don’t go.” She reached for his hand as he started to walk away. “I’ve ruined your night. I’m sorry. But you have nowhere else to go! And you’re staying with me at my apartment! What are y-”

“Let me worry about that.”

“Eddie, please.”

“Goodbye, Iris. Merry Christmas.”

He sounded a little bitter on the ‘Merry Christmas’, but she didn’t blame him one bit. She only sighed as he left and whispered to herself, “Merry Christmas, Eddie.”

…

After scouring the house, both first level and second, Iris began to panic.

Barry couldn’t have really left, could he have? Was he so upset that she had a boyfriend and wouldn’t let him kiss her that he wouldn’t even stay for the whole party? They hadn’t even eaten yet!

And things had changed. They had changed so much.

Barry didn’t have anywhere else to go either. He couldn’t have just…vanished. Could he have?

Her mind was spazzing so badly, she almost didn’t notice when her dad started walking past her into the kitchen.

“Dad!” She grabbed for his arm.

“Iris!” His eyes widened. “What is it? Is something wrong?”

“Where is Barry?” she demanded.

Joe’s brows furrowed.

“I think he’s on the front porch. Why?”

“The front porch!” she seemingly said to herself. “Of course. Why didn’t I think of that?”

“I don’t know…but if you’re going out there, please make sure to put your coat on. It’s especially chilly tonight.”

“Right. Of course.” She reached up on her tip toes and kissed her dad’s cheek. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Sure. Can I ask what this is abou-”

But Iris had already released him and was headed towards the front door. He shook his head and resumed his walk into the kitchen to get some more food for the table.

Once outside, Iris sucked in a breath. True to her dad’s words, Barry was sitting on the porch, the top step, where they used to hang out as kids when something was wrong. They’d talk it through and hug and go do something fun.

Now something was wrong, at least on Barry’s end, but Iris hoped it could be fixed soon. And that their something fun could be making out under the mistletoe she’d stuffed into her coat pocket on her way out.

“Hi, Barry.”

He turned to look at her, and his eyes widened.

“Iris! What are you doing out here? It’s…it’s freezing!”

“Looking for you,” she said innocently, then came to stand beside where he sat on the step. She opened her coat so he could see her ensemble underneath. “Do you like my dress?”

His eyes still wide, they widened even more at the sight of her minidress.

“You should go back inside, Iris. It’s too cold for that kind of-”

“You didn’t answer my question, Barry Allen. Do you like my dress?”

He gulped. “It’s a very nice dress.”

“Do you like it on me?”

“You look beautiful,” he said, avoiding eye contact. “But I’m sure your boyfriend has already told you that tonight.”

Now that she thought about it, no, he hadn’t.

“Eddie is no longer my boyfriend.”

She came and sat beside him on the step.

“What?” he asked, confused. “But I thought-”

“I can’t stop thinking about you, Barry.”

“What?” he asked, breathless.

“These past few days, they’ve been amazing. As soon as I knew who you were on your first day here…all these old feelings started coming back.”

“Old feelings?”

“You’re not the only one who had a silly crush at age 10.”

“You mean…?”

She nodded.

“No other guy has ever measured up.”

“Iris.”

“I think I stopped writing you because I was trying to forget you. I was starting to get interested in other guys, and they always fell short for me because they weren’t you.” She paused. “Eddie included.”

“So, you broke things off?” he asked.

She nodded.

“For me,” he said.

She started to smile.

“Uh-huh.” She licked her lips. “I don’t want you to go, Barry. I want you to stay.” She reached for his hands, and he let her. He always let her. “I want to see where this goes, and if we’re as destined as I feel like we are.”

“You feel like we’re destined?” He could hardly breathe.

She nodded again.

“But…how? Just earlier today-”

“I hadn’t talked to Eddie yet. I hadn’t stopped to think. I hadn’t let my heart decide for me what I really wanted.”

“Suppose your heart will want Eddie again…”

“It won’t.”

“You seem awfully sure of that.”

“That’s because I am.” He looked doubtful. “Barry, we’d only been dating a month. Even before this week I wasn’t in love with him. I think he liked me more than I liked him to be honest.”

Barry’s mouth was hanging open, but somehow he managed to shut it before looking out into the street.

“This is…a lot to take in.”

“Is it too much?” she asked, tipping her head to the side.

He turned to look at her, then saw she was dangling a handful of mistletoe above the space between them. He almost laughed and cried simultaneously; he was so ecstatic.

“Not on your life, Iris West.”

She grinned, and a moment later, Barry’s lips were on hers and the mistletoe had dropped into the snow as Iris’ arms encircled his neck, and his hands grasped her waist to pull her in closer.

Just down the road, a car slowed to a stop a safe distance away, the driver spotting the couple fully enraptured in each other before he slowly smiled.

“Thatta boy, Barry,” he said softly.

The car gradually moved back onto the road and turned in the other direction, back from where it had come. It was never seen again.

“I love you, Barry Allen,” Iris said, finally breaking apart, though very eager to kiss him again.

His smile was infectious as he pushed her wavy curls out of her face and sank his fingers into her hair.

“I love you, Iris West,” he said, and kissed her again.

[yourcoolfriendwithallthecandy]

Why So Jaded Chapter 11

Oh it’s getting to be a family affair now. AO3, FFN. The chapter is called The Give For The Take for a very good reason. Enjoy. 

Why So Jaded?

Chapter 11

“So were you good for Vi?” Helen asked Jack when Violet dropped him off at home on Sunday night.

“Yeah! We had a great time. We got to hang out with Barret the whole time.” Jack gleefully informed her.

“B..who?” Helen asked.

“His full name is Bartholomew Maximillian Pine, Mr. Pine, my other asset at work? We call him Barret for short.” Violet tried to honestly yet vaguely answer.

“Oh, but I thought he was on house arrest at SEB for the bet he made?” Helen asked.

“He is, so we hung out with him. He helped Jack with his school project about radio waves because the Lord knows I couldn’t.” Violet informed her mother.

“And he’s friends with Evan’s mom! You know Evan- he usually goes to Milham park with his little brother Alex and his little sister Kaely? Tammy has short bobbed hair cut, brown hair.” Jack tried to jog his mom’s memory.

“Oh yeah! Tammy. She’s really nice.” Helen recalled.

“Well I got invited to Evan’s birthday party in a couple of weeks, can I go? It’s on the 18th. They’re having it at Scene It.” Jack pleaded.

“I could take him if you already had plans.” Violet offered as Helen looked at her calendar on her fridge.

“Yeah, that would be nice.” Helen appraised.

“We’re supposed to be taking Jr and Dillion that weekend.” Bob said as he came over and looked at the calendar.

“Yeah who did Dash spend his weekend with anyway?” Violet asked as both of her parents just shook their heads with a defeated sigh.  

“Who knows.” Bob grumbled as he got a beer from the fridge.

“So tell me about Barret, Jack.” Bob invited.

“He’s awesome! He cooks so good, like Bobby Flay, like he made us all these amazing dishes from scratch and he showed me how to make a risotto, he’s a genius and an inventor and he explained radio waves to me and I should be getting an A on this project. And he’s actually really nice and sucks at cards. I demolished him at rummy but he was a really gracious loser and a good sportsman, he has no ego and he’s not the most handsome guy but his personality is awesome, just a really nice, easy going guy.” Jack appraised honestly.

“And that’s why we’re friends.” Violet added.

“Aww, that’s sweet.” Helen cooed as she got dinner ready as Bob simply nodded and retreated to the living room with his can of beer as Jack followed his dad and continued to sing Barret's praises, in an effort to get his dad to at least like the idea of Barret.

“Can you stay for dinner Vi?” Helen asked hopefully.

“I’d love to. Here, let me help.” Violet offered as she grabbed some potatoes and started to help peel them.

“So what’s Barret really like?” Helen asked as they stood side by side over the trashcan peeling potatoes.

“He’s genuine. And a gentleman. We ended up staying really late Friday because we just got caught up talking and getting to know each other, and by each other, his company and myself. Jack obviously knew Barret’s company and played nice with the other kids and it was just a nice dinner that I got to stay for and it was just...hanging out with friends. They’re just normal people. Like normal normal, with kids and mortgages and student loan debt. Anyway, Barret didn’t want me to drive home exhausted so he let Jack and I take his bed while he took his own couch. He was just..really nice. He never pushes for closeness or intimacy of any kind, he's down to earth whereas with Phil it’s just one head game after another when his head isn't crammed so far up his own ass it comes back out the other end again or when his head gets so big, it can't be contained inside Madison Square Gardens because it's a freaking blimp and his ego is as fragile as a hanging nut sack, it's a very nice and welcome change of pace. It was actually almost fun to just be casual and hang out and not watch the clock to count down the minutes until I’m free. And not having to always watch my back and watch the exits and think of exit strategies or expecting attacks every other second or worrying about doing or saying the wrong thing that’ll bite me in the ass later, like turning off for once instead of always being on you know?” Violet  answered honestly.

“Well I’m glad you had a good weekend and it sounded like you spent it with a friend. You need more of those.” Helen noted as she smiled at her daughter.

“Thanks, so. How was your weekend?” Violet returned.

“It was so fun. We ended up doing a gig upstate and after we got a cabin and just got to relax after, it was great.” Helen sighed happily as Violet simply smiled, albeit a little sadly. Because she doubted she would ever get to enjoy the wedded bliss her parents enjoyed. If she lived long enough to get married that is.

Just then Dash came into the house.

“Oh good, I didn’t miss dinner.” Dash smiled happily as his stomach started to growl.

“If you’re gonna help eat it, you should help make it.” Violet urged.

“But you two do it so well, I would only be in the way.” Dash excused himself as he grabbed beer from the fridge and started chugging it.

“You look really nice by the way Violet, green is definitely your color.” Dash praised as she squeezed by them to get to the box of cookies on the counter.

“I’m not giving you any more money, you still haven’t paid me back from the last three times I gave you money.” Violet immediately insisted when Dash tried hugging her from behind.

“Who said anything about money?” Dash pretended to be appalled that Violet would insinuate that.

“No one, and it will not be brought up again.” Violet insisted and she could only smirk smugly when he huffed and pulled away from her sullenly.

“So which underwear catalog model were you with this weekend Dash?” Violet asked.

“Victoria’s Secret, with Bianca.” Dash grinned cheekily with a click of his teeth as Violet visibly gagged.

“For the love of God and all that holy, please tell me you wore a condom.” Helen urged.

“Uh I think we should be asking Violet if she’s been wearing condoms when she was with Phillip in Vegas of all places, I’m surprised she didn’t come back married as Mrs. Sebastian.” Dash snidely returned as he began to walk away and Violet’s eyes glowed ultraviolet for a moment as her anger started to build.

“First of all, that’s none of your business, second, that was work and well within the parameters of my contract, third, considering my track record, as opposed to yours, who has not one, but two children already by two different women? And they’re only six months apart? And don’t you pay enough in child support already? You really want to add a third payment?” Violet spat back.

“Well some of us don’t roll around in money Violet! Besides, aren’t you paying enough in rent at Sky Way?” Dash sneered condescendingly.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, you know if you could keep it in your pants for more than five minutes, you’d be able to afford to live there too, don’t you get enough in endorsements between Nike, Body Armor and all your White Lightning merch and endorsements? Just up your appearance fees or better yet, if you- you know, invested some of that money instead of spending it faster than you’re making it, you’d be able to live wherever you wanted to.” Violet returned defensively.

“I do invest it, it’s just not getting the same returns your money makes apparently.” Dash returned.

“Oh my God, will you two stop it! Ugh, aren’t your kids supposed to get along once they leave home?” Helen complained.

“Dash, just go to the living room, dinner will be ready in a bit.” Helen decided.

“Stuck up.” Dash muttered under his breath.

“Leech.” Violet spat back.

“If he moves back in you better be charging him rent.” Violet insisted to her mother.

“Oh trust me, he’ll never move back in because I would never let him bring home another woman other than the two he's already impregnanted and when he wasn’t working, he’d be watching his own kids.” Helen reassured her.

“And heaven forbid he not have a revolving door on his bedroom.” Violet spat.

“I’m still holding out hope that he’ll find the right girl and settle down.” Helen confessed.

“Yeah, somehow, I get the distinct impression that will happen to Jack before that ever happens with Dash.” Violet ventured as she took her now peeled potatoes and rinsed them off in the sink before she got a cutting board out and started cutting up the now peeled potatoes into bite sized chunks.

“Well it just might happen with you before it could happen with Jack.” Helen teased as she bumped Violet’s hip with her own as she put her own peeled and rinsed off potatoes next to the cutting board.

“Ha! No.” Violet returned.

“Well I mean Barret sounds promising.” Helen shrugged and all Violet could do was laugh even harder.

“Yeah, no, I sincerely doubt that’s ever going to be a possibility.” Violet shook her head no.

“Why not?” Helen asked.

“Uh, well, he has quite the storied past. Granted, he isn’t the same guy he was, say, a decade ago, but uh, there’s too much history there.” Violet hinted.

“Like what kind of history?” Helen prodded.

“The kind that got him...really really hurt. In every conceivable sense. He made some really bad decisions in early youth, youth, teens and early adulthood and granted he pays for them, just about every day. But…it’s very complicated.” Violet tried to choose her words carefully.

“Everyone has history Violet. Doesn’t mean it has to haunt us the rest of our lives.” Helen insisted but Violet just huffed a mirthless laugh again. If that were the case, she wouldn't have such a hard time sleeping in the first place, or wake up in a cold sweat screaming her head off half the time.

“How old is he again?” Helen asked.

“He’s 31, seven years my senior.” Violet answered.

“Well that’s not that big of an age difference, especially once you pass your early 20’s, now if he was like 15 or even 20 years older than you, then yeah, that would be an eyebrow raiser of a difference.” Helen figured as she went into her fridge and got a wine cooler and offered Violet one who gladly took it and opened it and started drinking it.

“So what makes it so complicated?” Helen posed.

“Uh, well besides the history. Just our...positions. Phillip keeps me on a short leash and it’s only because I’ve “mixed business with pleasure” that I have any breathing room now. Phillip is jealous and possessive enough that...to pursue anything with anyone while I’m still under contract is a very bad idea and too dangerous. Phillip has a way of reaching out and touching people, and not in any kind of good way. And Barret is also under contract and his contract is even longer and more severe than mine. But we are…” Violet paused as she tried to decide on the best words to use.

“We’ve grown close to being friends because we’re just...two birds, in side by side gilded cages.” Violet finally murmured lowly as she finely diced the potatoes as she realized they should boil these and make mashed potatoes.

“So what has he done to incite you to view him like that?” Helen posed as she rinsed off some asparagus in the sink as another vegetable for dinner.

“He’s healing me.” Violet answered honestly.

“Like emotionally or physically?” Helen asked.

“The latter, the former is probably impossible.” Violet specified.

“Like with your central cortex?” Helen posed.

“Yep, he used his genius and formulated my current medication, he got me in front of the curve instead of always chasing behind it. It’s like I’m a teenager again, before any of it ever hurt and I can use my powers for hours instead of mere minutes before the pain sets in and the longer I'm on it, the better. I’m actually sleeping at night because of the sleep aids he’s made for me, granted for anyone else, they’d put them into a permanent coma but for me, they’re just right. I’ve shared them with Tali and they’re curing her too and even all the other Supers at The Agency with the same problem. Grated Phillip makes The Agency pay through the nose for theirs but for now they’re free for me and Barret is risking everything to get me my own protected supply that Phillip can’t touch or better yet, control, just in case Phillip tries to hold them over my head to keep me in line, which I wouldn’t push past him. Barret even made a suit that should protect me and everyone I protect that has features that every Super will want and every Super who is a handler will need. And he gives without any thought or want or need to be paid back. Even when he has so little, he’d give it all before ever being asked. He’s helping me with Dragon Eye, he’s...he’s an unlikely ally and an even unlikelier friend.” Violet explained as Helen’s eyebrows rose in surprise to hear of these developments. Granted, she didn’t like Phillip as far as she could punt him either. Something about Phillip put her on edge and had her own intuition telling her something was wrong with him and that he was much more dangerous than he looked but she couldn’t put her finger on it or explain it. She got the sense he was a sleezeball and Helen would have never forgiven Violet if Violet had come home from Vegas as Mrs. Sebastian.

“Sounds like a pretty awesome guy to me Vi.” Helen shrugged with a knowing grin.

“He is. He just...has an unfortunate past.” Violet answered.

“Was he in the mob or something?” Helen guessed lowly.

“Uh, no, not that I’m aware of.” Violet shook her head.

“Is he a serial killer?” Helen teased as Violet huffed a mirthless laugh again.  

“Technically I’m a serial killer Mom.” Violet answered in all seriousness and honesty.

“Oh no you’re not. You’re a Super, no Super has clean hands, on either side but you're on the good side. Guilty blood saves innocent blood, and it's because of that guilty blood that you've saved countless innocents which more than makes up for it.” Helen assured her daughter.

“Even if my hands have the blood of other Supers on them?” Violet posed.

“Yes.” Helen insisted.

“Not all Supers are good people, and not all Supers are heroes. You’ve gotten your hands dirty trying to keep the world safe and everyone else clean, you’ve had to make the tough decisions and the hard choices. But they were the right ones. If it was easy, everyone could do it. But you’re special and you’re one of the good guys, if not one of the best. You’re the best kind of hero, one that doesn’t need to constantly be in the spotlight and have every good deed praised by the masses, unlike others we know.” Helen reassured her as Helen gave the living room a dismissive glance. 

“I doubt you’d give Barret the same speech because his hands have just as much Super blood on them that mind do.” Violet posed with a disbelieving look as Helen was taken aback.  

“Ok, now you’re scaring me. Who is Barret?” Helen asked in all seriousness.

“Google him, Google- Bartholomew Maximillian Pine, just don’t scream or yell when you find out and don’t tell Dad, the last thing I need is for Dad to go Papa Bear and kill him before I can get Dragon Eye off my plate.” Violet answered before Helen got her phone out of her back pocket and googled it.

“Why does he look familiar?” Helen asked as she looked at the images of him that came up.

“Cross reference Buddy Pine, aka Syndrome.” Violet said before Helen sharply inhaled through her nose as her eyes got impossibly wide.

“See? Do you see why I didn’t want tell you? Because of this reaction right here.” Violet insisted.

“I...I thought he was in a wheelchair? After the accident with the jet turbine.” Helen finally spoke.

“He was in a wheelchair, he was in one for a few years after that accident and had to be put together and get surgery after surgery to be made somewhat whole again, it was why he didn’t go to prison after Syntech crashed and burned as did Syndrome. But Barret has assured me that Syndrome died in that jet turbine and it’s beyond clear to me that he is telling me the truth and he shows me that that's the truth by his actions that he is nothing like what he once was, except for the genius inventor thing, that never changed but everything else did, you'd barely recognize him now but hearing him talk might jog your memory. Or even Dad's especially. Barret has suffered enough from all of that and especially how Tali helped tear apart and break down the very empire she helped him build and left him with nothing where he had to start from an all new low. Not only did he barely have a dollar to his name, he was left in literal pieces that had to be sewn together and be ripped apart piece by piece in every way before he put himself back together again. It’s actually impressive how he’s managed to make it this far despite all that. And even with all that history. He’s...he’s surprisingly not bitter or holding any grudges, even against Tali, because he got his ass into some much needed therapy. Here, watch this with your headphones.” Violet urged as she handed her phone to her mother and had her watch the video that she had saved to her phone as Helen put her headphones in her ear and watched the video as Violet watched her mother carefully, watching how she started off wearily then gradually went from weary to understanding then sympathetic as the video progressed.

“So, you ready to take all that back?” Violet questioned when Helen finished and handed the phone back.

“Nope. Who else has seen that?” Helen asked.

“Tali, she cried when she watched it. She said that if he had been like that a decade ago, she never would have left him, or betrayed him and has asked me to help Barret and take care of him to the best of my ability, which I have happily agreed to and Barret makes it easy for me to do so. I don't do so strictly out of obligation or because it's owed or expected. I do it because I want to. Which is a first for me, especially in this job.” Violet answered.

“Well, it’ll take some time for everyone to come around to the idea of just you being friends. I think it should only matter what people are in the present. Obviously, he’s suffered the consequences of his actions.” Helen appraised.

“He has suffered, more than enough.” Violet insisted.

“Then I trust your opinion of what he is now.” Helen insisted.

“Really?” Violet posed disbelievingly.

“Like I said, the past shouldn’t haunt us forever. And if you said Syndrome died all those years ago. And he’s a changed man, then I will trust you on that. You aren’t one to trust anyone easily. And every ounce of your trust is hard earned and if he’s earned it, and if you trusted him enough to let Jack hang out with him, because it's no secret he's your favorite, much less yourself, then that’s enough.” Helen insisted.

“So you’re not pissed that I let Jack hang out with him?” Violet asked.

“You let Jack hang out with Barret. And Barret is a good guy. That’s all that matters.” Helen insisted before Violet quickly enveloped her mom in a tight hug.

“Thank you Mom.” Violet thanked her, not realizing how much her mother's approval would mean to her or how assuring, reassuring, validating and vindicating it was to have it.

“You’re welcome.” Helen reassured her. Ever so thankful and grateful that Violet let her in on even this much.

Truth be told, Helen was resentful to The Agency for turning her daughter from a good but shy teen to a stone cold killer. When Violet had come home from a stint that took almost a year, Violet just came home and held Jack and didn’t let him go for weeks. And often took him to bed with her and cried herself to sleep holding him. Violet wouldn’t breathe a word of what really happened and what she had been doing was top secret and only the highest of higher ups even knew about it, but after that, Violet was never the same and she was fiercely protective of Jack who was only 3 at the time and she was only 17, almost 18 herself at the time as well. Thus why the two shared their current super close bond. All Helen could think of is that involved children. Maybe the target had little children that Violet left orphaned, that was the only thing that made sense to Helen and to Bob. But after that, Violet just did mission after mission, back to back to back and started earning more than her parents ever did combined. And each time she came home, less and less of herself came home with her and when Violet moved out at 18, Helen feared she would lose all contact with her, and Helen had never been more devastated when her fears proved true.

When Violet was 21, she did another really, really long mission that took over a year and Helen didn’t hear from Violet that whole time and all The Agency could tell her was that she was on mission and undercover, wouldn’t say where or with who. But whatever it was, it didn’t end well. Helen and Bob had been watching the news and three major catastrophes seemed to happen at the same time, complete with natural disasters on top of political upheaval. And then they had gotten a call from Violet from a burner phone, saying that she was done. And she was disappearing for good and that she was just calling to say goodbye.

That had been the worst of it.

To beg and plead with your only daughter to just come home, where it was safe, where she would be protected. And to have that same, oh so precious daughter inform you that she would put them in too much danger if she did that. That she couldn’t protect them. She couldn’t even protect herself. And that the danger was bigger and stronger than anything they had ever known. And that if they only knew what had really happened, they would never welcome her home anyway. And that this was for the best. And it was going to be better this way.

Then silence.

And it didn’t matter how many times Helen and Bob went back to The Agency and rallied the troops and threatened to bring hellfire down on all of them if they didn’t give them their daughter back or at least tell them where she was. They were going to hang every last person at the agency on their own bullshit lies tied into a noose around their necks. No one would tell them anything, mostly because the people there didn’t know and everyone who did was unreachable and "conveniently" overseas and completely unreachable. Bob and herself had even officially quit and retired. And had even tried looking for her on their own but never did find her because Violet had been trained to never leave a trace. And Violet was always- successful.

It wasn’t until Phillip and The Agency found her and brought her home a little over a year later that they got to see her in the flesh. And while it was a blessing having Violet back home, working a ‘normal’-ish job that was mostly 9-5 through the week with the occasional overseas trip, it still kept her here in Metroville, and kept her close and brought her back into the fold so to speak. But the real Violet, Helen feared, never did come back. Or at least the Violet that Helen could remember or recognize.

But then, about a couple of months ago, Helen noticed she started seeing glimmers and glimpses of the real Violet again, like Violet's spirit was slowly returning to her body. She was still incredibly guarded, and secretive. But she was easing up, Helen supposed, at least smiling more, and being more accessible, at least physically, emotionally though, that was another matter entirely.

But Violet did take to Dash’s kids really well when she first came back. Feeling sorry and sad that she missed out on them. It wasn’t unusual for when Helen and Bob had them for the weekend- Violet would ‘drop by’ for the weekend too, with clothes and toys in tow and doted on them the way she doted on Jack when Jack was that age since Dash Jr. was three and Dillon was two and a half at the time and now Dash Jr. was four and in preschool and Dillon was now three and a half and she got along remarkably well with Ashley, Dash Jr's mom who was Dash's high school sweetheart, and Amy, Dillon's mom, Dash's first college love. But Violet got a lot harder on Dash, making sure he always paid his child support and spent quality time with his kids and even chipped in financially with their mothers, making sure that Jr got into an amazing preschool and made sure that Dillon would too, and helping them as much as she reasonably could. And with Jack, she usually bought the bulk of his school clothes and fabrics and trim which she happily took him to the garment district and let him go nuts in the fabric warehouses, bringing home yards and yards of fabrics for his ‘creations’ and even paid for her parents to put on an addition to their house so Jack had his own studio to create in and was super encouraging to Jack with his interests, and often did all she could to help them out, either physically or especially financially and made sure to give them heads up on her schedules of when she was going to be in town or out of town so if they needed to, they could depend on her, or invite her to their own social things that they had going on.

But right now, it was Helen’s intuition telling her that the reason she was seeing more of the real Violet, was because it was Barret of all people bringing it out in her, and for that she was grateful and it was because of that, she could learn to forgive him for the past.

Monday morning Violet came into work and was surprised to see a woman in Phillip’s office already, and it was someone she didn’t recognize as she was sitting in his lap as he showed her something on his computer as her giggle got on every nerve Violet had.

“Mr. Sebastian?” Violet posed politely.

“Oh, Ms. Parr, good morning.”

“Good morning. Do we have anything new for Mr. Pine today?” Violet asked formally, since he was obviously otherwise engaged as Violet’s glasses revealed to her exactly who was sitting in his lap and so intimately embraced in it. Another ballerina. Cheseray Wilkenson, prima dancer for Villefort Dance Company.

“Yes, actually.” Phillip said as he picked up his tablet and did a swiping motion from his own tablet to hers before her tablet got the new data and Violet froze when she saw it as she blinked in surprise from her tablet then back up to Phillip.

“By the way, how is the new suit?” Phillip asked and Violet actually did well keeping the dread and fear from her eyes and her face.

“Good, so far.” Violet answered.

“Excellent. I’m happy it’s working out for you.” Phillip offered and Violet simply smiled politely in view of his ‘company’.

“Is there a problem Ms. Parr?” Phillip baited.

“No, no problem at all, will that be all Mr. Sebastian?” Violet asked.

“Yes.” Phillip nodded.

“Very well,” Violet nodded as she then went to her own office and opened her own computer case from The Agency and accessed her files before pulling up Dragon Eye and did a search for when the last time someone accessed it and her heart dropped when she saw that Phillip was the last one to look at it, Saturday night. After herself, Barret and Jack had been working it as she remembered the wave pattern from the cameras. She had been in the apartment side of the space most of the time where the cameras had only come on in a wave a few times but she had thought nothing of it, since it was going to be Nelson, Pike, Leland and Smith in the security booth but there was no way for Jack and Barret to know that they were on a wave pattern and it obviously happened way more frequently for them to figure out what they were up to. That’s how Phillip knew that they had made progress.

He knew. But she was sure she’d be forced into trying to slit her own wrists if he knew that Dragon Eye was really him.

She closed it out and looked more closely at what her tablet had received as she tried to see what was really there. Was this a test? A trick? A trap? Or just Phillip keeping up with her? Her gut was telling her something was off and something was wrong. She needed Tali’s advice and she called her on her phone.

“Yes?” Tali answered.

“Hey, can you meet me for lunch today? Please?” Violet proposed.

“Uh, yeah, sure, where did you want to go?” Tali answered.

“Don’t care, somewhere uh, private and spider free.” Violet proposed.

“Luigiano’s.” Tali suggested.

“Yup, see you at say...11:30?” Violet proposed.

“Yes, of course Dear, see you then.” Tali answered.

“Thanks.” Violet said before she hung up and quickly went to Barret’s floor.

“Good morning Ms. Parr,” Barret greeted.

“Good morning Mr. Pine, uh, you have a few new items for your agenda this week.” Violet informed him as she couldn’t wipe the confused frown off her face or the fear from her eyes to save her life as she did a wiping motion from her tablet to his and then looked at him pointedly to make sure he actually saw what was in front of him.

“Oh, huh.” Barret finally murmured as he looked it over himself, and also frowned in confusion before he looked back over to Violet before they had a silent conversation with just their subtle facial expressions before he finally reached over and tapped her hand with his knuckle three times but tried to make it look like some random twitch.

“If you don’t have any questions, I’ll leave you to it then. See you this evening Mr. Pine.” Violet formally said before she left and went back to her office before she went into her bathroom and became invisible, her clothes she had been wearing, transforming into her suit before she marched from her bathroom to Phillip’s office, only to walk in to seeing Phillip balls deep in his new ‘pet’ on his desk before she sarcastically gagged then marched straight to Barret’s floor and tapped him again, three times, in rapid succession on the shoulder when she had made it back before he ‘casually’ decided to go to the bathroom himself and once in it, he blew out a breath of relief when a forcefield suddenly enveloped them both as she reappeared before him.

“So what’s going on?” Barret asked.

“He knows we were working on Dragon Eye. I was able to see who saw Dragon Eye last. And it was him. He saw it very late Saturday night. He’s out to exploit you even more than he already is.” Violet answered anxiously as she started pace inside the bubble of the forcefield.

“Yeah but a Super would need your powers to make them invisible too. The suit is meant to work as an extension of yourself and it takes machines that take up most rooms to turn it invisible without your powers. To put the same suit on any other Super, it’s not gonna work. And even if it did, unleashing a small army of completely invisible Supers who don’t have the same moral compass you do- is dangerous, like Supervillain level of dangerous. No offense.” Barret offered.

“Oh none taken, I completely agree. Just having one of me is already too dangerous. I mean it would be nice for The Agency to have someone else for my kind of work but even I would have no way of seeing them.” Violet worried.

“Well...not...not necessarily, when you’re in the suit, when you’re invisible, if you’re wearing the hood, you could see them, you could see, in theory anything you wanted to see. If I make your suit for anyone else. There’s ways I can make them that even you can see them, all I need is to reconfigure the visor section of your suit and even reconfigure your glasses when you don’t wear the suit over your head or give you special contacts or make it so that the the nanos always recognize each other, even from a distance, even from each other’s invisibility. Like x-ray vision but I guess...not. It can be done. It’ll be tricky, but it can be done.” Barret realized as his spark was working into overdrive figuring it out.

“Here’s my other request. While you’re doing that- make my suit EMP proof. Because one of my powers is to mimic an EMP signal, it’s one of the ways I can “burn” the cameras and listening devices and other electronics. But if you could make it so that the EMP signal, knocks out other’s invisibility but keep mine intact. But I also need a way for my own SOS signal to be EMP proof. Like I want to be a thousand feet underground in a copper mine or a lead mine and the right people would still be able to find me and rescue me.” Violet proposed.

“You got it.” Barret immediately agreed.

“Thank you.” Violet thanked him as she stopped her pacing to hug him tightly.

“I think it’s a trap.” Barret confessed.

“Oh I know it’s a trap. But at this point, I need to put my bloody feet in the water to attract the shark and I need a way to set my own trap for it and to spring it at the right time. Springing it too soon and we’ll never catch him. We need a trap of our own.” Violet answered as she just clung to him as he did the same to her.

“But the thing is, if he knew Saturday night, at the time he checked, that was the time Pike was getting off and Leland was getting on, Nelson got Friday night and he made sure to destroy the evidence of the uh, incident. And all he wants is when and if you ever get to leave here alive, to take him with you.” Violet conveyed.

“Oh, yeah, that totally works, it was Nelson that got you the necklace.” Barret immediately agreed.

“Figures. But that leaves Pike or Leland to spill the beans. Pike was in the same boat that Nelson was in when I talked to them Saturday morning and according to everyone, everyone in the security detail is ready to follow you out of here. But I don’t know if Pike was just saying that to curry favor with me or if he was genuine. Nelson I believe is genuine. Pike and Leland, I wouldn’t put it past them to be two faced. So we’re just going to have to be extra careful from here on out and choose our steps carefully. And anyone’s loyalty who can be bought isn’t worth having.” Violet murmured to the crux of Buddy’s neck and shoulder as they just hung onto each other, Barret refusing to let go before Violet would and was perfectly content to just enjoy this, plus he couldn’t chance endangering her by engaging her romantically or at least emotionally when she had so much to lose before Violet finally reluctantly let him go.

“I better get out of here, just in case I’ve been gone too long.” Violet excused herself.

“Thank you.” Violet whispered as she stood on her tip toes and kissed his cheek just as she vanished and just as Barret was about to go ‘fuck it’ and reach out and really kiss her back, she was gone, phased through the walls and he even reached out and tried to feel for her but she was already gone.

“You’re welcome.” Barret finally breathed as he reached up and rubbed the back of his neck anxiously before he sat down and actually used the bathroom as he held his head in his hands and thought of all the ways to give her what she asked for. Electronics that were EMP proof. Ways of seeing the invisible that he had worked so hard to make invisible in the first place. But at the same time, make her own SOS beacon a lighthouse among flashlights all while doing it under Phillip’s nose and off his radar, and off The Agency’s radar.

Meanwhile Violet came back into her office’s bathroom just in time to hear Phillip calling for her once he came into her office, “redressed” in her original clothes she had been wearing before.

“Yes Phillip?” Violet asked as she held her lower belly, pretending to have just had a huge bowel movement.

“Oh, there you are. I apologize for having company earlier and not letting you have freedom of speech in front of her.” Phillip began.

“Thank you.” Violet said simply as she took her seat behind her desk.

“But now that you’re here, I take it I’m free to speak to you now?” Violet posed.

“Yes of course.” Phillip agreed as he took a seat on the other side of her desk.

“About the new suit's possible release for The Agency. I will insist that we bring Edna Mode on onboard, otherwise no Super will have anything to do with it for fear of offending her and Edna Mode is a dangerous enemy. I will take on a thousand Dragon Eyes before I piss her off and you should have the same fearful respect for her that I do, to do otherwise is to court death and social suicide in this business. Edna has been designing super-suits since supers became a phenomenon and into popularity for the last 40 years, every Super, hero and villain alike has always used Edna. She is one of a kind and she’s neutral. This will feel like a betrayal and it will feel like we’re “stealing” this from her. And if The Agency pushes this on their Supers, that will mean that the only Supers to use her will be villains and that’s a recipe for disaster. Also my suit that Mr. Pine designed, was designed with me specifically in mind, specifically for dealing with Dragon Eye. The suit's capabilities will not be available should anyone else try to put it on. So unless you plan on cloning me, which I will never agree to, it won’t work. However, let’s say Mr. Pine does devise a way to get other suits to mimic what mine can do. Do you really think that’s a good idea to hand over truly invisible suits to an Agency that could hold the entire world hostage? The Agency already controls every Hero practically world wide. Or worse yet, if just one suit falls into the wrong hands and gets replicated, every enemy now has a way to waltz into any building, into any place they wanted to and kill you or me or anyone else without a trace. One of me in the world is dangerous enough. Imagine ten of me, a hundred of me, an army of me but without my moral compass and without my ethics. There could be thousands, millions even. All invisible, all uncontrollable and pure chaos and disaster. And all of it would have your fingerprints. Can you imagine the already delicate stock market crashing and sending the whole world into a recession that we’ve never seen before? Is making a few million off of new suits for The Agency worth all your billions that you already have?” Violet posed skeptically.

“Well, when you put it like that, no.” Phillip realized.

“Now I do agree that Mr. Pine’s new suit does have certain features that would be helpful for every Super that are non power specific. Instead of selling invisible suits. Sell the features that are non power specific, sell them individually and let the Supers and The Agency pick and choose and custom build their own- with of course- Edna’s approval, and Edna's control if she would agree on redesigning anyone’s suit. Also, Edna is used to having 100% of the profits of all super-suits and working all on her own before Jack was born. Mr. Pine made mine for free as a favor to Jack and myself because he’s a good person and because we asked nicely. Well, begged and pleaded because Jack and I are desperate to get Dragon Eye because he’s been on my roster for forever but because of his own powers, no other Super but me will touch him and I would prefer to keep it that way. Dragon Eye has the ability to make people commit suicide, imagine his own army equipped with my suit. Me and every single Super at the Agency would be in danger, including you because you have clearance at The Agency, you’d be just as big of a target that I am. Do you really want to risk it?” Violet posed skeptically as she leaned back into her chair and folded her arms over her chest and crossed her legs and fixed him with a look.

“No.” Phillip decided.

“Then change this in the roster.” Violet said as she handed him her tablet.

“Also you do realize that he would have to go to The Agency and to Edna Mode’s house to work on those super suits and every moment he’s off doing that- he won’t be here working on SEB stuff so his own output for SEB will wane to a degree as will his focus since it will be divided too. However it will prove fruitful in the long run because you’ll have an in with every other Super and you’ll be even father on The Agency’s good side and an even closer bedfellow and the chances of getting premium contracts will grow. It’s just a matter of do you want the money that would usually go straight to your pocket to change hands a few times before it does?” Violet posed.

“I think it's worth it for any profits made with any endeavor with The Agency to change hands and have a chance to multiply before it comes back to me will be sizable.” Phillip answered.

“Fair. But know that you will only have a limited time for that to occur. Because once Mr. Pine is no longer under contract with you, he’ll have his own in with The Agency because of this. He used to be the most powerful and influential non Super before his fall from grace and you effectively took his place. Once he leaves, he may want a bigger piece of their pie. Be prepared to share.” Violet warned.

“Well there’s a lot of time between now and then, and accidents happen, besides you’re his heir apparent, I wouldn’t mind sharing all the pie you wanted with you.” Phillip offered and all Violet could do was huff a laugh and grin crookedly as she just shook her head. Violet would sooner slit his throat before she would slit Barret’s as Phillip mistook the roguish curve of her grin as her delight at the prospect which only made him happy that Violet was still on the ‘murder’ side of things as far as Mr. Pine was concerned. Which meant that if she did get closer to Mr. Pine, it would be purely to undo him and further devastate him in the end. Which meant he could fully trust her with him.

“Also, I noticed that you loosened up the safety protocols for Mr. Pine’s outings. Why?” Violet asked since she had him right there.

“Uh, it was a Raid Day thing. I thought you’d feel better knowing he wasn’t “crawling with spiders” too, besides, I completely trust you with him and I know your specialties, the less “evidence” of any kind of friendly relationship, the less can be used against you, in the case you have to do the deed. However, if you are seen by his friends being with him all the time and getting cozy, that will place you well outside the realm of suspicion to them. Especially since you have more than one connection to them.” Phillip answered and Violet realized Phillip’s trap. He was trying to trap Barret, using herself as bait.

“Ok. Well thank you, that’s very sweet and thoughtful of you, I really appreciate it.” Violet thanked him before a thought occurred to her.

“By any chance, is that why you are hanging onto Miss Cheseray Wilkinson for longer than a weekend? Because if you’re “engaged” with her, that may seem to appear to free me up to get “cozy” with Mr. Pine?” Violet asked as she uncrossed her arms and simply let her arms rest on the armrests of her chair.

“You always were so clever Violet.” Phillip beamed proudly as Violet simply leaned forward on her elbows of her desk as Phillip did the same.

“God you’re despicable.” Violet praised, despite her grin, she wanted to throw up when he leaned across the desk and kissed her. But she swallowed it down, along with her disgust for him. Barret’s life and survival hung in the balance, she needed to protect him. The money- she could care less about, she had more than enough just from The Agency, any money from Phillip was always extra. But for Barret's sake, it would be worth it. But for now, she needed to get Phillip right where she needed him and keep herself above suspicion in order to keep her own head from rolling. She couldn’t protect Barret, let alone anyone else if she was dead. And Phillip still held the power to pull the trigger so to speak. She still needed to finesse the gun from his grasp. And she still needed to figure out a proper trap for him too. One that he would be willing to release Barret from his if it meant his own freedom, much less his own life to be exchanged.

“Well Mr. Pine and myself are barely now only friends, for anything romantic is to happen, it is going to take some serious time and some very convincing measures and greater freedoms for both of us and he will not only have to be enticed, but feel free to pursue me without the fear of any backlash or danger of any kind. And I’ll need it in my contract that no retaliation or counter measures will be taken for any romantic entanglements for either of us because his fear of you may always outweigh any desire he has for me and it is that fear that keeps him in line and behaving for us so we need to balance it. And of course the occasional, if not quite frequent unsupervised time spent while in contract would be most helpful and if any of my enemies become his by association, I can’t be held responsible for that. But at the same time, if anyone is going to take him out, it will be me and me alone that will do it. No one else is to ever interfere and whether he lives or dies, will be a matter that me and only me will ever decide one way or another and who knows, he may prove to be useful to me for many years to come, decades probably, why should we prune a bush just as it begins to flower? Why not let it bloom it’s heart out and enjoy it’s fruits for the long run? Granted you get to enjoy the fruits of his labor for the next two years. I would hate to kill the golden goose before it gets a chance to lay it’s best golden eggs a few years from now? Because while I will inherit everything he has, why not let that bush flower and fruit to its absolute fullest and ripest before it’s harvested?” Violet specified with a flourish of her hands.  

“Oh of course. I absolutely agree with you on that.”

“But again, all of that will take time. Are you patient enough for all of that?” Violet posed.

“Oh don’t worry about me. I won’t grow bored if that’s what you’re worried about. Cheseray will do quite nicely as a good distraction.”

“Well if that distraction ever gets serious, I wouldn't hold that against you Phillip.” Violet cooed, because honestly, Cheseray and the rest of her dance company could take their turns with him, she didn’t give a fuck.

“Oh I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you.” Phillip reassured her.

“Well, if my hands are going to be full with Mr. Pine for the foreseeable future. I may need help with the position of your handler. And I fear for bigger trips like the ones to Tokyo and Hong Kong and the like, you're going to need an official handler since I’m going to be Mr. Pine’s for those engagements and well every engagement and outing from now on, because closeness does breed fondness after all.” Violet proposed and subtly consciously nodded which got Phillip to nod subconsciously as well.

“Of course, consider this your reassignment to him then. I believe I can enlist others to stand in for your post for the time being while you are otherwise engaged.” Phillip offered.

“Would you like me to arrange for that or did you have someone in mind?” Violet posed curiously.

“Oh I have a few in mind. I’ll take care of it myself. Your hands are already so full from handling Mr. Pine for me. I couldn’t possibly ask for you to find your stand in too.”

“Well if I may make a suggestion?” Violet offered.

“Oh I’m all ears.” Phillip grinned giddily.

“Don’t get Veronica Andrews. She’s a little too strictly business for your tastes and you will lose ground with her for the same things that gained ground with me. May I suggest perhaps a man, who is perhaps- familiar, accepting and incredibly accommodating for all of your needs who will use the same foresight and thoughtfulness I possess and will pleasantly surprise you?” Violet offered.

“Oh do go on.” Phillip urged her.

“He has a bit of a wild reputation and may have been in a scandal or two himself. But, he should be a good fit for you. His name is Leopold Traeger. Also known as Mysterio.” Violet recommended.

“Really? Mysterio?” Phillip posed.

“Most think he’s just a second rate Super, but those in the know- know differently. He’ll be perfect for what you need him for.” Violet cooed.

“Then I will take your recommendation.” Phillip grinned which got Violet to smile victoriously.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a lunch date with Mirage. I’ll need all the insights and tidbits I can possibly harvest from her.” Violet excused herself as she got up and smoothed out her skirt.

“Oh of course, please do send her my best.” Phillip offered as he mirrored her.

“One last kiss then, besides, I would hate to be the reason you and Cheseray were to ever have a disagreement, let alone an argument or for her to feel any kind of jealousy towards me or feel threatened by me and our closeness. I can’t go ruining your relationships can I?” Violet cooed as she gave him one last kiss. Kissing the last of any emotional attachment with him goodbye with it.

“Goodbye Phillip, or should I say, Mr. Sebastian?” Violet slipped back into her handler voice as she sauntered away.

“Goodbye Ms. Parr.” Phillip called after her wistfully.

Violet went to Luigiano’s for lunch early and happily realized that Tali had already made a reservation under Octavia for a private booth. The restaurant was owned by The Seven Kings Mafia, so there was absolutely no cameras or listening devices and there were completely enclosed private booths in one of the private dining rooms that were bulletproof and sound proof and if you needed to discuss any kind of business, Luigiano’s is where you went. Plus they had one of Metroville’s best wine selections and the staff that worked in the kitchens turned out some of the best Italian food in the area that was on par with any Italian grandmother's cooking mostly because the kitchen was full of real grandmothers from all over Italy that were brought over by the seven families that made up the Seven Kings of the Seven King's Mafia and you had to be an important somebody to even be on the list of guests allowed to make reservations and thankfully both Violet and Natalia were on that list. Violet sat down and ordered her favorite wine and some antipastos before Natalia came a few moments later, turning heads like she always did, because even after being a mother of two, her figure had morphed from slim and trim to dangerously curvy but still undeniably sexy and Natalia was still a head turner wherever she went, wearing one of her more couture outfits and looking more like a mob boss’ wife more than anything before she was shown to her booth before her own order was taken then the doors of the booth were closed and secured as Violet and her happily dug into the antipastos that had been delivered already.

“Violet Darling, I was surprised to get a call from you, what’s going on?” Tali asked.

“What do you make of this?” Violet asked as she handed Tali her tablet as Tali took it and read through what was on it before she let it set on the table and got her glass of wine and began to drink it before she looked back down at it, holding the chilled glass of wine to her cheek as he cheeks flushed as she stared down at it as she did her best to school her features to stay composed as Violet could still see the real fear behind her gorgeous green eyes.

“It’s one hell of a trap.” Tali noted.

“I know. It’s a trap for Mr. Pine, I’m the bait.” Violet offered before Tali shook her head no.

“No, you have that backwards Dear. Mr. Pine is the bait, you’re the prey. This is a give. The real question is- what is Phillip taking?” Tali asked.

“Phillip still thinks I’ll kill Mr. Pine at my earliest convenience.” Violet answered.

“Nope, that’s not it. That was a term already agreed upon and understood under the previous terms. These are new terms. Which means new stakes. This is the give, what is the take?” Tali repeated emphatically.

“My sanity?” Violet guessed. “I told him about the creepy crawly spiders. He agreed to kill them for me and that Mr. Pine is like a big can of Raid to me. Phillip hasn’t killed them yet, but he put them to sleep for now.” Violet revealed.

“No. That’s not it. Did Phillip propose? And more importantly did you accept because this is a big “leap of faith and trust” there’s no way Phillip would take this leap, without either knowing for certain that you will catch him, or, more importantly, know for certain that his leverage against you outweighs this, it’s like gambling, and he’s the house, the house is always going to win and this is your first pay out. But there’s no way you get to leave the casino. It’s way too early and the night is way too young, again, what are the stakes, what is the take? The real take? Are you going to be Mrs. Sebastian?” Tali asked plainly.

“No, uh, in fact he has a new squeeze in order to free me up for Mr. Pine.” Violet answered.

“Well it’s clear he’s “loaning you out” like a pimp trading hoes or an exhibit at a museum. What is Phillip taking to keep you loyal to him? To keep you obedient and in line? What is more precious to you than your heart that Phillip knows you'd give up everything to keep safe?” Tali urged her.

“Jack.” Violet breathed in horror as that realization hit her like a brick to the face.

“It was Jack who came to SEB to redesign the suit. It’s Jack who has been working with Edna on Dragon Eye. But Jack is at home, Jack would know if there’s spiders at home or at school and Jack is so far- immune. Unless... Phillip found a way to make himself more potent. Oh God. I told Phillip he needed a new handler while I was “reassigned”. I suggested Mysterio because Mysterio would be able to give Phillip all the freedoms he wants, without too many constrictions of ethics or morals, much less codes or laws. Mysterio has had issues with drugs in the past. If Phillip gets ahold of...any number of things he’ll be too strong. Even for me. Maybe even for Jack or my parents, or anyone.” Violet realized.

“I gotta go.” Violet realized as she took the tablet back and got her things together.

“Thank you for lunch, sorry to eat and run, I gotta…”

“Just go.” Tali waived her off as Violet quickly walked out of the restaurant, doing everything in her power not to cry in public as panic whirled in her chest and she went straight to Jack’s school and had him come to the office while she did her best to wait patiently for him to come before Jack came into the office in confusion before he looked into the office to see Violet before his eyes got wide to see her expression.

“What’s wrong?” Jack asked.

“Oh, uh, you have an appointment with Dr. Pine today that Mom forgot to call the school and let them know you had.” Violet offered.

“Oh yeah, uh, let me go get my backpack.” Jack said as Violet went with him and ordered her secret bike to meet her at a doctor’s office where she managed to find- a Dr. Pine on staff. He was an orthopedic surgeon, who specialized in pediatrics. Perfect. 

“What’s going on?” Jack whispered.

“Phillip changed the stakes. We need to strategize with Barret.” Violet urged him.

“Shit.” Jack cursed under his breath.

“That was fast. We were just there for the weekend, we left Sunday afternoon, it hasn't been 24 hours since we last left. How did he change it so fast?” Jack asked in a hushed whisper as he got back to his locker and got his stuff along with work from his teacher before he followed Violet out of his school.

“Read this.” Violet said as she handed Jack her tablet as she drove like the wind to the doctor’s office as she checked her phone to see where her bike was en-route to her.

“I just got done with lunch with Tali, she said that since I’m not officially engaged to Phillip, that that is the give and asked what the take is. I think because you were at SEB, that Phil plans on taking you as leverage against me. I don’t know when or how, but you need to make sure that at school and especially at home, that it’s spider free. But since I officially got reassigned, I suggested Mysterio as my replacement. Mysterio has a history with drugs, more-so with weed than coke but I wouldn’t put it past him. If Phillip gets back on coke- he’ll get too strong, even for me and I’m afraid even for you.” Violet insisted.

“Yup, that tracks.” Jack nodded in agreement before she parked her car and hit a remote on her keys before an enclosed motorcycle slid it’s enclosure back as Violet quickly changed into a pant suit so she could ride the bike astride as Jack got on it with her and got the second helmet and put it on before he hung onto his sister tightly from behind her on the bike and rode with Violet back to SEB in the cloaked bike, weaving through all the traffic, like a thread through a tapestry and once in the SEB parking lot, Violet enveloped through her forcefield as she ran into the building, phasing though the walls and such to get to Barret’s lab before she got Jack safely into Barret’s bathroom before she went up to Barret and tapped his arm three times before he lifted his head and took the cue and went into the bathroom and blinked in surprise to see Jack in there before the three of them were enveloped into Violet’s forcefield.

“Ok, now what’s going on?” Barret asked before Violet repeated what had happened with Phillip and then again with Tali as both Barret and Jack had to sit on the floor as Violet sat with them as all three of them simply held their heads in their hands as they sat cross legged on the floor in a triangle.

“How do we get out of this?” Jack asked.

“Other than in a casket.” Barret specified.

“Or me in a wedding dress answering to Mrs. Sebastian for the rest of my life, however long or short that may be.” Violet groaned as she raked her nails over her scalp.

“Wait.” Jack breathed in softly as an idea bloomed in his head.

“Is there a way to measure someone’s individual brain wavelengths, like a taking a stamp of a fingerprint. And is there a way we can inject, something like a dye, like the kind of dye they inject you with when you have an MRI, but it can stick to foreign wavelengths, like dusting for fingerprints, but on the brain, to see if Phillip has had his “fingerprints” on other brains. Like I know Violet’s brain is going to look like a joint passed around at a party.” Jack began which got Violet and Barret to snort a laugh at his allegory. But he had a great idea.

“But if we can find actual evidence of this suicide seed. It should show up right? And even if it got removed, there might be evidence, like the water stains left behind in a flower vase. It’s worth a shot right?” Jack offered.

“Definitely.” Barret readily agreed.

“And if we can make it so that once it’s found, the dye can act like nonstick spray on a pan, to keep any further ‘fingerprinting’ from happening to the brain itself but make his efforts still show up?” Violet ventured as Jack and Violet looked to Barret hopefully.

“In theory yeah, but it would take images and I need Phillip’s biometric data. And that’s not going to be easy to get.” Barret began.

“Well, we’ve used Dragon Eye as our cover so far, I’d have offed myself already if Phillip knew he was really Dragon Eye. We can use that as our in. We can use the Agency and I can get you set up with passcodes and ways to use The Agency’s databases and super computers so that you can work on stuff that even Phillip can’t see and we can hide it in plain sight because anything secret or top secret or whatever Phillip always likes to poke his nose into. We can even use your cipher to code it. Make it so that IRize and your other companies can get read into it and at least they can keep a second copy of it as a back up and Jack, I hate to do this to you so but get you another back up, keep it with Edna, no one in their right mind would go after her or invade her space, they’d be making an enemy with every Super world wide on both sides.” Violet mused.

“Yeah, that works.” Jack said before Violet got a nosebleed.

“Fuck, I’ve used too much of my powers today, we gotta cut this short. Jack I gotta get you back and get you off at home.” Violet realized as she grabbed some toilet paper to stuff it into her nose to stop the bleeding as Buddy noticed that the blood itself seemed to pulse in and out of invisibility within the tissue, like a cuttlefish strobing it’s lights and colors which he thought was peculiar.  

“Ok,” Jack readily agreed before Violet got Jack back and managed to hack into the real Dr. Pine’s medical computers to fake a note for Jack before her bike drove itself back to her secret hideout apartment before Violet took Jack home and lied to her parents about how she had made the doctor’s appointment for Jack because he was complaining of pain in his feet because the real Dr. Pine was an orthopedic surgeon and they were getting a consultation.

Then Violet returned to work as usual and went to check in with Phillip for the evening check in and stopped dead in her tracks when she saw someone with Mysterio in Phillip’s office.

White Lightning- none other than her brother, one Dash Parr.

Fuck. Wrong brother. It wasn’t necessarily Jack that was the take. It was Dash.

[rivetgoth]

OC #1 - Hollywood California

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I wanted to start with Hollywood California because she’s one of my oldest OCs, although she’s obviously been through a lot of iterations. Really really loyal followers may remember her from the very first work I ever used her for back in 2016, a novel I did for Camp NaNoWriMo called Balthazar and California, although she’s been around since before that (Balthazar didn’t really survive nearly as long, though, but a lot of his early developmental concepts actually went into a different character of mine, Giovanni, who we’ll get to later on). Nowadays she resides in my main alternate reality futureverse which is the 2080s (instead of the 1980s, get it?), in the Fresno, California megalopolis, where she was born.

California is a trans woman. She’s in her early-mid twenties and heterosexual. She was originally from the poor outer ring of the city. She grew up the only child of a single mother and struggled throughout school, where she was a constant target of harassment. Her mother, while not necessarily meaning to be cruel, had no real way to support her or understand her and her overprotection drove her to lean more towards “just try to be more normal” rather than accept her and help her express herself. California’s frustration with being stifled in every aspect of life kept building until she was sixteen, when she ran away from home with no word to her mother. After becoming a talented shoplifter and thief she began amassing a collection of clothing she had never had access to in the past, and through nightclubs and bars she found a place where she could dress as she dreamed with less judgment, falling in love with the city’s underbelly nightlife. At the clubs she frequented she enjoyed making herself the star of the show, glamorous and glitzy. It was then that she picked up her name, choosing Hollywood California because “that’s where the movie stars used to live.” To keep up her glamorous lifestyle she would soon become involved in sex work, which for better or worse was quickly a profitable venture. As her income grew and her looks became more stunning, she caught the attention of Pandora, a wealthy drug dealer in the area. Pandora offered California a place to stay for as long as she wanted with heat, electricity, and air conditioning, so long as she paid rent, which she happily accepted. She moved in with Pandora as well as Pandora’s boyfriend Johnny, a shy boy with the face of a cherub and slicked back hair, always recognizable in his leather jackets. For a time being the three of them seemed like an inseparable trio, attending clubs every night, California and Pandora both doing their own work and raking in cash.

However, things took a turn for the worst when Johnny grabbed California in the middle of a club one night, dragged her out back, and drunkenly confessed his love for her, as well as the fact that Pandora had been viciously beating him for some time now. He revealed scars hidden with makeup, and begged California to help him. California, only seventeen at this point in contrast to Johnny’s twenty-two, knew that she was in over her head, but made a clumsy and hurried attempt to help Johnny by staging a plan to run away with him. It was soon revealed that this entire ordeal was overheard by Pandora, and in a fit of rage he murdered Johnny and framed California. California had no defense, and Pandora’s careful staging of evidence and tearful claims to the Street Patrol that a crazed transvestite junkie had murdered his lover was a case that she could not refute. It soon became clear that it would take a miracle to keep her from a lifetime in prison, if not much worse.

That “miracle” came in the form of Himmel Medicine (they’ll come up throughout my OC descriptions, trust me), which had just bought out the prison system in order to “partner” with the prisoners, giving reduced sentences in exchange for cooperating with them on experimentations for cutting edge surgeries. Presently, they were conducting a study on the brains of criminals, specifically those who had done something extreme such as murder, rape, etc. California was offered a simple choice, which was to agree to be apart of Himmel’s new study, or face capital punishment.

The thesis of the study was the suggestion that those who break laws simply struggle with internal wiring that gives them the ability to understand the importance of laws, and that simply rewiring one’s brain to make them more willing to conform to preexisting expectation will remove the desire to break rules. In short, suppressing free will in order to suppress resistance to law in order to suppress crime. For obvious reasons, Himmel’s interest in such research extended far beyond criminal activity, but it was a significantly more acceptable angle to announce the project with. Thus, California became an early test subject on the surgical restricting of free will, trying to medically alter her desire to commit a crime she had never committed in the first place. She spent years under Himmel’s control, and in the meantime, she was kept in a dormitory-type location along with others from similar medical and surgical experiments. It was there that, after a few years alone, she was assigned Angel Steel as her roommate - Angel is another OC of mine who many of you are probably familiar with, and he was now under Himmel’s “supervision” for reasons similar to her own, although he was being used for a different series of experiments. Between tests and operations, California was expected to be something of a high class prostitute for Himmel’s wealthiest donors and supporters, alongside Angel, so the two of them bonded over that, as well as the fact that both were transgender and around the same age, and California attached to Angel quickly as a sort of survival instinct, even going as far as to believe she had fallen in love with him, although how much of that was built out of coping with the trauma of it all is debatable.

California grew increasingly afraid of what the experiments were doing to her. Because the operations were all still experimental, they had not managed to suppress her free will yet, but with direct modification happening to her brain she could hardly even tell what was changing, and she feared that she was losing control of herself and what she knew to be true. She knew she would need to escape. When she discovered Angel was making his own plans to run away she ended up blackmailing him in order to force him to let her accompany him, telling him that she would report him to Himmel’s authorities if he refused. Angel bitterly allowed her to come, and the two made their escape together, leaving Fresno entirely and taking up residence in the Outskirts, the furthest the buses will travel outside of the city before turning back around. This is where we find her (and Angel) at the beginning of my novel, so I don’t wanna say much more about that storyline for the time being, since a lot will be revealed then :)

As a result of the various and intensive brain surgeries California went through she was left as more or less the equivalent of what’s going on with Ella Enchanted, although not quite as extreme. She struggles to not follow orders set for her, although she is self aware and can fight against it, it just takes a lot of mental effort. On a physical level she’s left with a metal plate on the side of her head, think Chop Top from Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2, although she covers it with wigs. She kind of has this endless battle with her own autonomy and sense of self and has to fight to keep a grip on who she is and what she believes in, although it’s something that, over the course of her narrative, she improves on.

California is fascinated by old fashioned glamour, as her name implies she’s extremely interested in golden age cinema, as well as the New Romantics of the late 70s-early 80s. She considers herself a new age New Romantic. She speaks in a Cockney accent and she can be very loud and excitable to the point that people read her as obnoxious sometimes. Her brash nature comes in part from her attempt at fighting back against what she knows has happened to her, wanting to be loud and filterless and uncontained to prove that she’s still her own person. She always loved making a scene and capturing people’s imaginations, but now it’s as much survival instinct as it is enjoyment. She still carries a lot of the weight of trauma with her, blaming herself for Johnny’s death and having to work through the lingering effect of the years stuck at Himmel (both the obvious surgical impact as well as the trauma of the whole ordeal). She’ll openly speak her mind or be heavily sarcastic to the point that it can hurt others, although she’s a genuinely well-intentioned person with no actual desire to hurt anyone, she just over compensates by speaking unfiltered a lot of the time. She’s one of my few OCs who I would say is genuinely a good person, or at least genuinely wants to be, and will put aside her own safety to help others in need. She saves Giovanni’s life at one point despite hardly knowing him and having no reason whatsoever to trust him.

She loves the color teal, and she loves glitter and pearls. She drinks too much but she avoids hard drugs most of the time at this point. She gets frequent migraines. She loves new wave pop music and dancing. She believes in magic but she hasn’t quite figured out what to do about that. She wears an empty heart locket around her neck that Johnny gave her long before the events that transpired the night that he was killed. She goes by “Cal” for short (no one calls her Hollywood).

California is a special OC to me. Her hardships mirror some personal stuff in my life and she’s been through a ton of change and development. I’m proud of how far she’s come. Her backstory is rough but with an outcome that makes me really happy.

[imamessofawriter]

Tododeku week 2018

Day 4

Theme: endearments

Quote: “For of all sad words of tongue or pen, the saddest are these ‘It might have been’” – John Greenleaf Whitteier, Maud Muller.

Warnings: OC. Out of character. Guys talking about sex. Implied sex scene.

@tododeku-week

FF.net | AO3

A little too late

At 32 years of age, Todoroki Shōto has accomplished many things. He was the current No.3 Hero for a long time, having gotten the first rank for a while when both the number 1 and 2 heroes were out of commission. He has a huge fanbase, and a wide skill set for every situation.

Today he was taking it easy, patrolling the street like any other hero. He was walking when he spotted a mop of green hair. He was about to greet his friend but stopped when he saw that Midoriya, known as the No.1 hero Deku, in his civilian clothing with his wife and daughter.

The three of them sitting on the bench of an ice-cream parlor, a huge sundae between them. Midoriya smiled as he fed his daughter, Hanami, her green eyes widening at having a brain freeze. “Unca Sho,” Hanami exclaimed, pointing a finger at the hero.

Having no choice but to go and greet them, “Hey Midoriya’s, Hanami,” he waved and high-fived the little girl, “How’s my goddaughter doing?”

Once Midoriya and his wife had found out they had been expecting, they asked Shōto to be the godfather of the child. At first Shōto was about to reject their request but Midoriya pouted and looked at him with puppy dog eyes, and so he gave in and agreed.

“I’m going to go to school,” She proclaimed proudly, her smile mimicking that of her father, “oh and mommy and daddy say I’m going to be a big sister.”

Shōto looks at the two adults for answers, their sheepish looks tell him enough. He arches a brow for more information, “we wanted to wait before telling everyone,” Naoko, Izuku’s wife spoke softly, “we were going to make an announcement in a few weeks, once I enter my second trimester.”

She rubbed her hand on her barely visible stomach, her quirk allowed her to hid her baby bump for a long time. When she was pregnant with Hanami, she made her six-month baby bump look like it belonged to a four-month pregnant woman.

“Wanna be this child’s godfather as well,” Izuku asked, feeding Hanami another spoonful of ice-cream, “or should I ask Kacchan?”

“Don’t think of letting Bakugo near you kids,” Shōto warned, while Naoko glared at her husband.

“I’m just kidding,” Izuku laughed as he leaned over and placed a kiss on Naoko’s cheek. Todoroki’s heart leapt in his chest at the couple’s display of affection, a pang of guilt for wishing to be in Naoko’s place.

“I have to patrol but see you around,” he waved and continued working. His mind wandering back to the image of the happy family, how if he had been smart and confessed then it would’ve been him there, not Naoko. But Todoroki was an idiot, he kept his feelings to himself and watched as Izuku live a happy life. But he always reminds himself that Izuku’s happiness is his number one priority so if that meant, if Midoriya is happy with someone else, then he happy as well.

Shōto cussed as he arrived at his apartment after his shift to see his father standing by the door. Endeavor, no longer in his prime, a shadow of his past, just like All Might. He had sustained a life-threatening injury during the war with the league of villains and lost his right leg, forcing him to retire from being a hero.

“To what do I owe this visit?” Shōto asked with disdain, eyeing the envelope in his father cautiously. He opened the door and let his father come in and take a seat in the living room while he prepared some tea. Setting down the green tea, Shōto tapped his foot as he looked at his father, “you haven’t bothered me in the last three years so what is it?”

“you are thirty-two years old now,” Endeavor began, “you aren’t getting any younger and with the dangers of being a hero, you can’t afford not to have an heir to carry our legacy.”

“Excuse me?”

Endeavor threw the envelope towards Shōto, crossing his arms over his chest, “I know that you are single, I found a perfect suitor for you and I have already contacted her family and they agreed to the marriage.”

Angry, Shōto threw the envelop back at his father. “You can’t decide that for me,” he yelled, “maybe I don’t want to get married, ever.”

“Your mother would love to see her grandchildren since she isn’t getting younger as well.”

“No,” Shōto growled, his eyes glaring daggers at Endeavor, “you don’t get to put words in my mother’s mouth, you haven’t seen her in over two decades, and you don’t even care about how she feels.”

“Well it’s useless,” Endeavor shrugged, “because I have already scheduled an appointment of you two meeting, the wedding date is already set.”

“GET OUT” Shōto screamed, positive that the entire building had heard him. Endeavor complied quietly, leaving the envelope on the table, “she is an excellent candidate, from a good family” he stated before closing the door.

Once the door was shut, Shōto collapsed on the floor as tears of frustration streamed from his eyes. He was in a state of shock and anger, watching as everything he had built so far get shattered by his father. His father, who was barely in his life anymore, his father who is disabled and almost became crippled.

Life wasn’t fair.

Time passed by rather slowly after that day. He met his fiancée, a woman named Fujioka Koharu with a fire quirk, and from a wealthy family. Out of courtesy Shōto, took Koharu out for several dates, one including a visit to a carnival. He always put a smile for her sake seeing as she was excited about the prospect of getting married to a hero.

He introduced her to his family, they gave him a sorry look in private, well aware of the situation. At a class reunion, he introduced her to his classmates and their significant others. There were several announcements made, fist the MIdoriya’s announced their news regarding their second child, Yaoyorozu was opening a hero office overseas in America, Bakugo and Uraraka were expecting their first child together and that they were twins. Then Todoroki shared the news of his engagement, he invited his friends to the wedding, telling them that they will send the invitations and asked Iida to be his best man.

He could see Midoriya’s smile fall as Iida agreed to the position. Once everyone began to mingle with Koharu, he pulled Izuku to the side and apologized. “I would love you to be the best man, but you are the number one hero and your wife will be extremely pregnant during the wedding” he explained, “I can’t ask you to give me all of your free time, Naoko-san and Hanami deserve it more than I do, but I will call you when I need help.”

Months have passed, and Kaminari and Kirishima suggested they throw a bachelor’s party. Shōto more than agreed with them, he seemed rather enthusiastic about celebrating the loss of his freedom. He brainstormed the best places and was willing to splash thousands for the party.

The weekend before the wedding they decided to go to Hokkaido for the party. There Shōto had rented an estate with amazing scenery, they were lucky that the wedding was during spring and not say summer or winter. All of his classmates from 1-A minus Mineta, and some of his other friends as well as work friends have showed up to the party.

The first day was filled with many different activities and by nightfall they were exhausted. Opting to sit in the kitchen floor of the mansion, cooking dinner and eating junk food while they drank beer and wine. They talked about the past, about relationships, about women. Kaminari asking his friends if they ever used their quirks while having sex. They all laughed and tried to remember if they ever did.

“Round face used her quirk once so we can have sex midair,” Bakugo laughed, raising his cup of wine in the air as if toasting, “now we are expecting twins because of that.”

“Sometimes to spice things up,” Yoarashi Inasa added, raising his cup to toast Bakugo.

“Yeah I guess Naoko does use her quirk sometimes,” Izuku admitted, his cheeks turning red, “always making it seem like we are doing it for the first time with how tight she gets.”

Everyone began recalling a story where they tried experimenting with their quirk. Even Iida had shared a story, everyone but the groom said anything. They all looked at him waiting for an answer, “don’t tell me you are still a virgin Todoroki” Kaminari teased, “a cherry boy waiting till marriage.”

Maybe he was a little tipsy, or maybe it was dread of what his life was to become when he uttered the next words. “I’m gay not a virgin, Kaminari,” he answered in the most deadpanned voice, “I mean who would use their quirk on a one-night stand, specially a quirk like mine.”

“I didn’t peg you as that kind of person,” Iida commented, “do you get yourself checked regularly?”

“Then why are you marrying Fujioka?” Kaminari asked curiously, “I mean you would settle for a guy if you are gay.”

“Forced arranged marriage, okay I’m changing the subject,” Todoroki replied, completely flustered, his cheeks burning red. They talked all night before a slightly drunk Kirishima went skinny dipping in the pool along with Kaminari.

Morning came and they were slightly hungover. They were all thankful that they had requested all three meals to be made by a chef as part of renting the estate. “Today is party day,” Kirishima grinned as he ate some toast. Todoroki nodded while stuffing his face with pancakes.

The second day was the single most important day of the three-day bachelor’s party. The first is the day they arrived, slightly exhausted, they went sightseeing and did some local activities. The second day they will party hard, lots of drinking and some R-rated games. The third day is for them to recover from the previous day’s hangover before heading to Kyoto for the ceremony the day after.

The day began with tequila shots. It was half way through the afternoon when a DJ blared the music loudly half way through a ‘soccer’ game, male and female strippers showing up unannounced, courtesy of Kaminari and Yoarashi after learning about Todoroki’s sexuality. Todoroki laughed as a good-looking guy gave him a lap dance in his underwear, putting some cash in the stripper’s underwear.

Everyone was heavily drunk by nightfall, eating expensive stake for dinner. They drink beer from a keg upside down, a thing they never got to do while they were starting out as heroes. Dancing with random female company, and overall celebrating the single life. Todoroki was heavily intoxicated when he was helped to his room with an equally intoxicated Midoriya, “I think…” the green haired hero slurred, “we had too much.”

He almost fell on the table, prompting Todoroki who was barely able to stand on his two legs to start double over in laughter. They were together alone in the master bed room, all their friends drinking and partying downstairs.

They both crashed on the bed together, Midoriya stared at Todoroki and gave into a fit of giggles. “Nghh” Todoroki groaned as he used whatever strength he has left to turn over and hover on top of Midoriya, his arms barely holding him up. His eyes half lidded as he stared at Midoriya, his senses were no longer inhibited. He licked his lips before leaning down and pressing a kiss on Midoriya’s kiss, breaking away to place another kiss on the other man’s freckles, his jaw, his neck and going down.

“Todorokiiii” Midoriya gasped, putting an arm around Shōto’s neck and wrapping his legs around the Todoroki’s waist. Smirking while leaving a trail of kisses, Todoroki rocked his hip against Midoriya’s experimentally, enjoying the moan he received in return.

One thing led to another, and more kisses and saliva were exchanged, tongues deep down their throat, clothes have come off and the room became damp quickly. Things escalated to the point of no return, Shōto pretend he couldn’t hear Izuku mixing up his name with Naoko sometimes. Instead he focused on the noises coming out of their mouths, Izuku’s deep blush, the feeling of skin against skin, as each thrust was harder than the previous, the scratches on his back, the heat of the moment.

“You know,” Shōto began his voice low and exhausted as they lay in bed naked and in each other’s arms, “I don’t want to get married, life is miserable as it is and now it’s going to get worse.”

“It’ll get easier after a while,” Izuku murmured, his eyes closed, almost ready to pass out.

“I never told you this but I love you,” Shōto whispered in a drunken daze, pressing a sloppy kiss on Izuku’s forehead, “ever since we were first years and I still do, wish it was you I was getting married to, I’ll always regretting not confessing.”

He closes his eyes, holding this moment dear to his heart. This is the happiest he has been in months, he has the person he yearns for in his arms, happily asleep. He can now sleep, this time he doesn’t need to dream of what had just became a reality.

Izuku groans as a headache threatened to split his head in half and the contents of his stomach ready to come out. He could feel the bed being warm, begging him to hide under the sheets. He rolls over towards the source of the heat, greeted with the body of Todoroki Shōto next to him. He blinks once. Twice. A third time.

Shōto was naked. He is naked. They are sharing a bed. He tried to think of what happened the previous night when it dawned at him, a migraine knocking at his door. In a panic, Midoriya jumped out of bed and started to get dressed, ignoring the nausea, he couldn’t wrap his head around the situation or the words he heard his friend say. Mostly he was angry at himself, for letting things go that far.

“Izuku?” Shōto yawned and groaned at the same time, making it quite clear how smashed he was.

“It was a mistake,” Izuku fumed, “we were drunk and it was wrong.”

Shōto stared at Midoriya who was getting dressed for a few seconds before he recalled the events of the previous night. A small, shy smile graced his lips, “I don’t regret it.”

“Well I do”

Unfortunately for Midoriya, Shōto was in a state of bliss as he let out a dream like sigh and laid back on the bed seemingly not affected much by his hangover. “C’mon Izuku,” he smiled, a rather unnatural daydream like optimism in his tone, “lets runaway together, let them all go to hell, the wedding, Naoko, my father. We can go to a different country and start anew together.”

“ARE YOU SERIOUS?” Izuku yelled, now fully dressed, he was beyond fuming or angry. The green haired hero had picked his last piece of clothing and turned towards the door, “screw you Shōto, you had your chance and you wasted it, now don’t you dare and try to ruin my home, OH MY GOD you are a FUCKING homewrecker.”

“WAIT,” Shōto exclaimed, his hand outstretches trying to stop Midoriya from leaving, “where are you going?”

“Getting the hell out,” Midoriya bit back, glaring hardly at Todoroki, “and don’t you dare touch me, or for that matter don’t talk to me AGAIN.”

He slams the door hardly and goes back to his room, his hangover disappearing in the moment but returning once more. He empties his stomach in the bathroom and packs his things and leaves, taking the first train back.

During the train ride, Izuku keeps thinking about the confession and where did things go wrong. He didn’t mean to cheat, he was drunk and out of it. How could he explain this to Naoko, explain the fingerprints, the hickeys and the scratches on his back?

He recalls their high school days, how close he was with Shōto, how strong their friendship was. That’s when he notice’s, normal friends weren’t as close as they were. The subtle things, Shōto did to him. The midnight cuddles and snacks, the special smiles, the gifts, visiting Todoroki Rei at the hospital together. Though they were mostly from Shōto, Izuku had never paid them any attention.

He was solely focused on being a hero that he didn’t notice his best friend pining for him. And he prided himself for his observational and analytical skills.

There were some obvious gestures, like cooling his sports bottle before handing it to him after practice or heating his food when it gets cold. Only Midoriya got the special treatment and he took them for granted. He remembers Todoroki being overly clingy during their senior year, specially with their graduation seemingly close. Todoroki telling him that he is scared of a future where they can’t see each other anymore.

Izuku leans his head against the window, tears silently falling from his eyes. Guilt flooding him as he realized how selfish he was, he had let his best friend sacrifice his happiness for Izuku’s own sake. The half smiles he gave when Izuku had told him he is dating someone, or when he announced his engagement, him expecting his first child. The fake smile and vacant eye at his wedding, the half assed best man speech.

He remembers Shōto being scared of holding his daughter. How he almost rejected being her godfather, how he held the child with such love as if it was his own.

Izuku cursed at his own stupidity, after all he feels strongly about the other hero as well. But it was too late.

.

Shōto himself wasn’t in a better state. He either laid in bed for hours or was in the bathroom throwing up, before deciding that the bachelor’s party was over. He told everyone that they could party without him, he has an emergency and is going to visit his mother. Nobody asked what the emergency was.

Shōto took the 3 O’clock flight from Hokkaido to Tokyo then took the bullet train to Mustafu, replaying the events of the previous night in his mind. He felt disgusted with himself, letting his emotions get the best of him and having an affair with his married best friend.

It was almost 7pm when he arrived at his mother’s apartment. He rang the bell and waited outside with tear stained cheeks. “Dear,” his mother exclaimed as she saw him, “what happened Shōto?”

Todoroki couldn’t answer her, he shook his head, holding the tears back as followed her in. He went to the bathroom and took a quick shower and changed his clothes.

Rei sat in her room reading a book while waiting for her son to finish. He walked out with his hair damp, looking even sadder than before. Worried she patted the space next to her. Just like when he was a child, anytime he was upset he will sneak into his mother’s bed for comfort.

“Want to tell me what happened?” She asked in sweet tone, running her fingers through his hair. That was all it took, his head on her lap, her hands on his head, patting and comforting him. It all came loose, his forced marriage, how he screwed badly with Izuku, on pent up feeling and emotions, on wanting to run away.

That night Todoroki Shōto cried into his mother’s arms like he hadn’t in a long time. Todoroki Rei just comforted her son, told him he will be alright and that tomorrow at the alter it will be up to him, whether he continues with Enji’s plans or break free.

.

The dreaded day has arrived, and Todoroki wished he could stay in his mother’s apartment in bed all day. But he knows that Enji would raise hell searching for him.

So, at six in the morning he reluctantly got out of bed and got dressed. He kissed his mother goodbye and went to the train station, using the two, almost three hours ride to Kyoto to collect his thoughts.

He had decided what he wanted to do and what should be done.

Dressed in a tux and standing at the altar, Shōto looked at his guests, most were here because of his father. He looked at his friends, they were all there, some were smiling but those who were at the bachelor’s party weren’t, they were pitying him. Midoriya wasn’t there, but his wife Naoko was there, as well as his daughter, Hanami, who would be the flower girl.

He glazed the crowd once more, as music began to fill the ballroom, he luckily managed to convince his father of a mix of traditional Japanese and western wedding. They were to have a western union by exchanging vows and then they would move to a table on the side and sign their marriage documents. The only problem is his father had arranged it to be a public ceremony and broadcasted live.

His soon to be wife walked in, her black hair tied neatly in a bun. She was dressed in a white western dress with elements of a normal Kimono. Many swooned over Koharu’s beauty and some clearly showed signs of envy. If it were any man he would fall down to his knees and worship her beauty, however, Todoroki Shōto wasn’t any man. He did not even smile at his bride, only nodding once she reached the altar, his face maintaining its usual stoic expression.

The officiator started the ceremony, he began reciting the vows and blessings. He turned to look at Shōto, “do you Todoroki Shōto take Fujioka Koharu as your lawfully wedded wife?”

Todoroki stared at Koharu until the officiator had to clear his throat to get his attention. ‘Calm down Shōto, you can do this’ he told himself and turned towards the officiator, “No.”

“No?” the officiator asked in confusion, looking between the groom and the bride.

For the first time since the weekend Shōto smiled genuinely, though it was a small smile. “Look, I’m gay and I can’t be with you. Sorry,” he announced loudly and walked away from the altar, “only agreed at first because my father wanted to see me get married and have kids but I don’t want to make a huge mistake.”

He waved his hand in the air as a goodbye and left the ballroom. The crowd sat in shocked, staring toward the door. Yoarashi Inasa’s loud laugh boomed through the quiet hall, “he actually did, that bastard.”

“Seriously,” Kaminari added, also laughing, “I didn’t think he would come out like this.”

The rest of Todoroki’s friends all started laughing, “that was manly,” Kirishima cried.

“Wait what? When? How?” Uraraka stood up suddenly, looking at Bakugo and then at Iida, who was standing dumbfounded at the altar. The explosive hero, hurried and held her in place, a hand carefully hovering over her stomach, like a dotting husband, “careful Ochako.”

That day, every news channel, every hero form went crazy over the revelation. Some websites have crashed due to the heavy load. The world was shaken by the news, and Todoroki’s popularity had increased more than it already was. Some people congratulated him the streets, others thanked him.

But there was another thing the world had noticed as well. Pro Hero Deku wasn’t at the ceremony, he was spotted in Mustafu visiting his mother. Even though Deku’s personal life was private, they saw that his wife was upset during the ‘wedding’ and kept rubbing her hands over her huge baby bump as if she was going to go into labor any second.

It wasn’t long before word had spread, Pro Hero Deku and Pro Hero Shōto had a falling out before the wedding. The two heroes refused to talk to each other, or even acknowledge each other. They would avoid each other like the plague and declined requests of teaming up together.

A year later, on Izuku’s and Naoko’s wedding anniversary Todoroki took to twitter and tweeted:

焦凍|Shōto @ProHeroShoto

“For of all sad words of tongue or pen, the saddest are these ‘It might have been’” – John Greenleaf Whitteier, Maud Muller. Quite the wise words but I think we shouldn’t regret the sacrifices we made if it makes someone else happy.

18,643 Retweets | 24,378 Likes.

11:30 AM – 12 April 20XX.

 A/N: To clarify at the beginning of the fic Shōto is 32 and Izuku is 33. The story started in mid-September and the wedding is in the last week of March the following year, in time for the cherry blossom. So, by the time of the wedding, Shōto is also 33. I felt like it’s best if they both end up with someone not from school to break out of the usual shonen epilogues where everyone is married to each other. I thought that maybe I should have someone from 1-A end up together and expecting, that was Ochako and Bakugo. The rest are either with other people or single.

Naoko’s quirk allows her to tighten her skin, it’s pretty much active all the time so her skin is pretty tight and there are no stretch mark or wrinkles. But at some occasions she could for it to activate in certain parts of her body, like when she is pregnant so the bump won’t show, because during pregnancy the woman’s uterus and abdominal muscles stretch. At the start of the fic, Naoko was barely three months pregnant and her due date was during the week of the wedding.

This fic focuses more on the quote than the theme, in where Todoroki is filled with regret because he wasted a chance and now whenever he sees Izuku, he thinks ‘that might’ve been me’. Unfortunately, Izuku won’t leave his family because Shōto confessed and slept with him.

I didn’t write this but Izuku tells Naoko of what happened as soon as he gets back, and he is deeply sorry and that he and Todoroki are no longer friends. She forgives him but with a catch (spend more time with his family), and they are still going strong. After coming out, Shōto had went on several public dates and is currently dating someone for a few months and he no longer has feelings for Izuku. 

[andyangus]

Saturday 30th January

3.30 a.m. (The latest I’ve been up in years!) I sat in Starbucks as nervous as a prostitute at confession while attempting to sip my caramel macchiato as indifferently as I could. The place was bustling with tourists who seem to have been unaffected by the global downturn as they continually dripped coins into the ravenous till. Ryan was half an hour late (traditional), so I managed to work my way from an uncomfortable wooden chair to a nice, soft and fluffy couch as people vacated. I sank into the well-ridden cushion with smug satisfaction and admired the view. Edinburgh Castle hadn’t lost her beauty.

I was feeling the effects of the caffeine and becoming quite sentimental when Ryan swept in with the energy of an excited teen. His long, hairy, green and brown overcoat swept open from the speed of his entrance. He recognised me immediately and waved, beaming a Hollywood smile that would outshine any showgirl. Sadly, Tony (a.k.a. ‘Biffo’, the derogatory name given to him justifiably by harsh queens on the scene) was in tow. I stopped slouching and tensed up my stomach in a vain attempt to engage my rarely used abs.

Ryan’s hardly changed. He has no grey flecks, unlike me, and seems to have been living in Tupperware for the past decade as there’s not a crease on any part of his well-presented façade. I’d go so far as to say he looks youthful. You’d hope, after losing a boyfriend, the stress of it all would mean you’d instantly burn all that unnecessary fat, but no, my body screams for comfort food, slowly topping up the levels like a barrel attached to a drainpipe.

Ryan yelped in excitement and hugged me like a long-lost brother. ‘Andy, you look amazing!’ he said and then paused expectantly for a compliment in return.

I shushed him bashfully and said, ‘No way, but you do.’

‘I know I do,’ said my confident friend.

I neglected to compliment Tony as I just can’t lie convincingly. He’s spray-tanned so much he’s on the verge of becoming a fat satsuma. However, as we were throwing hugs around, I was obligated to give him one too, but as half-hearted as I could possibly make it (hugging Biffo is akin to embracing a turd in a wig).

I immediately wanted to trade that hug for a slap the second Tony pulled back, gawped at my face and cried, ‘Goodness, life has been rough on you, my dear. Haven’t you collected a lot of wrinkles!’ and laughed as shrill as a mad banshee.

I countermanded by saying, ‘Wrinkles? No, they’re the trademark Angus laughter lines.’

Whereupon Tony sniggered and threw another verbal grenade, ‘Well, what a family of comedians you must be.’

Cue fixed grin and stunned silence on my part.

I visualised dropkicking him through that bay window until his mangled body was tangled in the castle’s craggy rocks, but I knew this wouldn’t be a great start to rekindling a relationship I’d let slide a long time ago. Even if one of the reasons I’d let it slip was still very much the monkey on Ryan’s back. A monkey that will be backbreaking to carry as Tony has gained several pounds and is struggling to fit into his Fat Face jeans. His thinning brown hair, jug-ears, snooty nose and jutting incisors certainly fit his insulting nickname Biffo the Bear. And his lips ... I don’t remember them being that big. Collagen injections, by the look of it.

‘Moving on,’ I said. ‘Coffee?’

‘Oh, not here, cupcake. I can’t abide coffee beans that have been raped by a multimillion tax-dodging company,’ said Ryan. ‘I hope nobody saw us come in, Tony. Well, nobody that counts. We know a delightful independent place on Broughton Street that you’ll adore. Cosy and they do the best tasting Americano this side of the country. I hope no one sees us leave, either.’ He turned to a busy server filling a large tray with sloppy cups and sticky plates and asked, ‘Is there a fire escape we can use?’

‘The owner can be a bit of a cow, though,’ interrupted Tony, tartly.

I was sold. Anyone who’s a cow to Tony is a friend of mine. A bit of a walk, but I figured my potbelly and bashed ego needed a stroll. ‘Let’s go then,’ I insisted.

‘Oh, hang on,’ said Ryan, whipping out his mobile. ‘A quick celebratory selfie. Stand over there away from the branding. I won’t be tagging our location.’ The boys struck a well-rehearsed pose as he snapped the picture before I’d the chance to focus. I was gawping, my eyes half shut and I noticed a coffee drip on my shirt. It was online quicker than the time it takes to drink one shot of espresso. We left via the fire exit.

******

Café Jamaica, a slither of a place that you’d miss if you weren’t looking for it, is green and black on the shop front with swirly yellow flower power style lettering above the door. Cavernous inside, it gets more extensive the deeper you delve, opening out to an ample space at the rear. On the far wall, beyond a decorative fireplace, sits an intimate stage flanked with purple felt curtains. An eclectic mix of local art hangs on the walls, from picturesque scenes of Edinburgh to the abstract brushstrokes of an aggressive mind. Rainbow coloured paper lanterns hang from the ceiling, softly lighting the chilled ambience, enhanced by grand ornate mirrors dotted around the area. The whole café has a feel of homely, lived-in chaos. Not a single table or chair match in colour or style. Nag champa snaked lethargically through the space and Nina Simone’s voice echoed from somewhere deep within the shadows. It felt reassuringly geek-friendly.

As I squished comfortably into a sofa, a tall, slender, middle-aged black woman with a tower of thickly piled hair emerged from the back of the café and made her way towards us as she flirtatiously dipped into the depths of her ample bosom to remove a small notepad and pen from its clutches. Her hourglass figure was tightly caressed by a green dress that groped her in all the right places and caused her breasts to spill forward like two large, shiny chestnuts. She oozed sexual confidence. Phenomenal. If it weren’t for her sincere smile and gentle Jamaican accent, I would’ve felt intimidated.

‘Ryan, you old hound. So good to see you, what can I get you?’ she grinned. ‘And I see you’ve brought a handsome young man with you,’ she said, nodding to me and ignoring Tony. I warmed to her more.

‘This is my good friend from the West, Andy,’ said Ryan, which melted my heart instantaneously as it became apparent all those years I’d neglected our friendship seemed to bother him not one jot.

‘Andy?’ She smiled wider, ‘Andy, who?’

‘Andy Angus,’ I added, hand stretched to shake hers.

‘Oh, Andy,’ she muttered as her eyes glinted in the lamplight and gazed deep into mine. Well-manicured scarlet nails flickered as she cupped my hand in both of hers and shook it intensely, ‘It’s so good to meet such a fine, handsome, mature man.’ She raised her head proudly and announced, ‘I’m Miss Molasses Brown, queen of this fabulous establishment, where all friends, freaks and lost souls are welcome to linger.’ It felt as if I’d known her for years, such was her warmth.

‘Drinks!’ she shouted, ‘Mojitos on the house, for my dear friends. Back in three shakes.’

‘We should take you out more often,’ said Tony, glaring at Molasses as she wiggled away, ‘the old hag has never given us so much as a free after-dinner mint.’

‘Oh! Selfie!’ said Ryan, mobile at the ready.

Goggle-eyed, I said, ‘Really? But we’ve only just taken one twenty min …’

Snap and post!

We sampled delicious home-cooked recipes that blew my mind, several non-alcoholic cocktails and Molasses’s very own Rum Truffle Cake. A sober evening for me, but a most enjoyable one. We talked about their wedding, and I brushed over my defunct relationship with Thomas briefly. I imagine Tony was keen to perform a detailed autopsy, but I preoccupied the evening with them. Ryan is a window dresser for Jenners and Tony works in a G.P. surgery as a receptionist. They still live at their old flat on Leith Street, but now, instead of renting, they own it. I got most of this information from a very animated Tony. Ryan was hardly given room to breathe, so I was relieved when an early start pulled Tony out of the door around midnight. Even if I had to witness repeated, heavy petting for the next ten minutes until Ryan loosened his leash and the door shut on his saggy arse.

I could relax for the first time all evening. With Biffo gone, we were free to chat over old times, when I lived just a stone’s throw away from Ryan on London Road. Life seemed more relaxed and less complicated. I had more of the pink pound in my pocket, and the scene was new, exciting and risky. He talked about some of the older queens still doing the rounds, the ones who’d since moved on (or worse, died), and the colourful new characters he’s met since I left.

Then he asked, ‘Do you ever think of Steve?’

My heart suddenly ached. I shared the flat on London Road with Steve. He was older than us, experienced, wealthy, butch and bitchy, cheeky and damn handsome. He’d say, ‘When you hit forty, boys, there is a certain clientele that finds you fascinating. Twinks don’t turn my head, but I seem to turn theirs, and if the chap is on the right side of his twenties, then I’m willing to entertain the notion for nothing more than a night. Anything more than that is some form of relationship, and that is definitely not my china cup of tea. What would I want with a twink, anyway? They haven’t lived. They use moisturiser, for fuck’s sake, bathe in aftershave and have no idea how to fix a stop-cock. I just want a real man to rodger and take the bin bag out in the morning, is that asking for the world?’ Riotous laughter would follow, and others would turn their heads towards our usual corner of the bar. We must’ve looked like witches around a cauldron, but we were having a blast.

How could Ryan dare to bring him up? Steve was taboo. Our gang fell to pieces after he died – forty-four and cold on a slab looking a shadow of his former self. His good looks eaten away. Such a jovial, glorious mind ruined by something that could’ve been, should’ve been, treated sooner.

I hesitated some and said, ‘I think of him every day. I still blame myself; after all these years, I still do. I knew he wasn’t right. Six weeks later, he was gone. No more Friday night drinks that turned into Saturday morning breakfasts. Gone was that shameless smile, those playful moves on the dance floor and that gorgeous set of blue eyes that excused him no matter how bitchy he became.’

Ryan nodded, ‘He could charm the Crown Jewels off the Queen.’

That rock that we had clung to was now far away in the middle of a foreboding sea that could never be crossed. At least, not in this lifetime. This marked the beginning of our separation. We met through Steve, and we only knew how to function around Steve. So we clung to new rocks as quickly as we could and lost sight of each other behind the solidity of what we’d found. His funeral came fast and left us with little time to think. And before we knew it, we were toasting the man and, with a tear in our eyes and dregs in our glasses, it was time to move on. And boy, move on we did. Swiftly. Ryan to Tony, and me to Thomas. But even tonight, after all that water has flown under all those bridges, the events leading up to why we lost touch hurt.

‘Not your fault,’ consoled Ryan with a hand clasping mine. ‘Hell, I would’ve told him to shut up with his moaning, but then, I’ve never had much patience with the sick.’

‘I remember,’ I jibed. ‘When I snapped a tendon falling off the stage at Vibe, you quickly asked me to leave as I was embarrassing you. I limped towards the exit, and you continued to dance as if nothing was wrong.’

‘Oh, dear. Did I? I’m sorry about that. I must’ve been on something.’

I laughed. ‘You were on everything back then!’

Ryan chuckled, ‘Yes, I suppose you’re right. I don’t nowadays. Too old to deal with the comedowns. And who wants to have the teeth of a medieval pauper? I miss him,’ he said with his smile gone and his eyes glistening, ‘and I miss you too.’

It felt so good to be wanted again. Wanted by him. I squeezed his hand tight and told him what I should’ve told him a long time ago, ‘I miss you too. I’ve always missed you.’ It was good to feel as if someone cared once again. I didn’t want to lose that moment. God, I really have missed him. How could I have been so stupid?

‘Are the two of you hypnotised or something?’ came a familiar Jamaican accent. ‘Anyone would think you kids were in love.’

This snapped us out of our bubble.

‘Don’t be daft,’ I spluttered between breathy laughs.

As the doors to Café Jamaica were locked behind us, we wandered along the cobbles reflecting the streetlights’ pale yellow glow. Arriving at my car, we said a reluctant farewell. Ryan hugged me tightly. It was great to be close to his beating heart once more.

‘It’s fabulous to have you back in my life, my friend,’ were his parting words.

As I drove along Gorgie Road, I realised I’d finally found an old piece of me that has been forgotten, buried beneath the chaff of domesticity for far too long. Maybe, just maybe, it is possible to go back in time and start over.

The twenty-five-year-old Andy inside me had woken. He yawned and blinked at the moon as it hung large and low before me on the drive to Mum and Dad’s. I could see the silhouette of Edinburgh’s skyline in my rearview mirror, and even though I was heading in the opposite direction, Ryan, Steve and my twenty-five-year-old self were travelling alongside me and having a whale of a time.

4.35 p.m. It’s Dad’s retirement do tonight, and I’m feeling more than a little tired from my late night.

[sentrava]

5 Ways to Get Out and About in New Orleans

The problem with New Orleans, in my opinion, is that all you’re going to want to do while you’re there is eat … and drink … then eat and drink some more. I totally endorse this method of travel, by the way, especially when visiting the South’s most delicious city.

But as you might guess, there’s more to the Big Easy than a sophisticated cocktail scene and extensive culinary playground—it would be a shame to vacation at such a cultural hotbed and not try all the other things to do in New Orleans. So next time you’re visiting, put these activities on your itinerary as a means to get your heart pumping (or simply to stave off a food hangover and prepare room in your stomach for the next meal).

Take a Walking Tour of the Garden District

We touched down in New Orleans on a Monday morning and right off the bat headed to the Garden District—a historic neighborhood formed shortly after the Louisiana Purchase for the new Americans who didn’t want to live in the French Quarter—for lunch and a walking tour with Sheila Ferran. I recommend doing this on your first day in town as it will allow you to get your bearings and learn more about the city’s storied past.

Sheila started us off like all good NOLA tours begin: in a cemetery. I was having flashbacks to Ashley Judd being locked in a tomb in Double Jeopardy and told Sheila as much—to which she said, “well funny, they actually filmed that scene in this very cemetery.” (Parts of Interview with the Vampire were also shot there.)

New Orleans may be known for vampires and voodoo, but you don’t get that creepy feeling while going on a walking tour during daylight. Sheila showed us several notable tombs and gravestones in Lafayette Cemetery, and I learned that much like in Tennessee, yellow fever claimed the lives of many of NOLA’s early inhabitants.

From there, we wandered down Coliseum Street and wove in and out of the district, as Sheila pointed out who lived where: Sandra Bullock, there; John Goodman, over there; and Anne Rice, here and there and there (it seems that at one point or another, Anne Rice lived in every stately home in New Orleans!). One highlight was when Sheila pointed out the house where Archie Manning still lives today (and which Eli and Peyton once resided in, as well).

We also got a crash course in New Orleans architecture, from the old-school shotgun houses to the ornate-style Italianate homes, and we even saw a house that could almost be a doppelgänger for my own 1800s beauty: a mash-up of a Queen Anne and Greek Revival.

Overall, this tour is ideal for any lovers of history or architecture or the visitor who wants to get the lay of the land. (price: $35)

Pro tip: Come for the history; stay for the three-martini lunch at Commander’s Palace, a Garden District icon. After walking around in the Southern humidity, you’ve earned it. You can save your feet and take the St. Charles streetcar back to your hotel.

Mix Up a Hurricane with New Orleans Drink Lab

Who doesn’t want to learn to shake it up like a pro? I confess that while I consume a lot of cocktails, I don’t do much mixology at home other than adding a bit of tonic to my gin or ginger beer to my bourbon, so it was interesting to learn how to make New Orleans’ signature cocktail—the Hurricane, of course—the way the pros do it. Enter: Drink Lab.

Situated above Victory, New Orleans Drink Lab explores the cocktail culture that fuels the city, as well as how many of its iconic drinks came to be. We had a crash course in cocktail culture while sipping on a glass of champs and manning our own bartending stations as we prepared our drinks for consumption. Newsflash: I actually like Hurricanes when made properly (with real, homemade passionfruit simple syrup). Who knew?

Keep your eyes peeled for Drink Lab’s monthly prohibition parties; they also offer two-hour classes several days a week, as well as cater to groups like birthday parties or bachelorettes. (price: $65 per person)

Bust a Move with Bounce Ya Brass

I’ll be honest: I wasn’t entirely sure I was going to take Bounce Ya Brass class when I showed up. It was the end of a long day, I hadn’t been sleeping well, and I’d consumed a particularly gluttonous lunch so was feeling rather lethargic. But as Alex, Angie and I walked up to Crescent Park where Shanda, one of the teachers at Move Ya Brass, had already started her class, I heard her whoops and her “love yas!” and I immediately dropped my belongings and jumped right in to join the fun.

Shanda’s energy and positivity are infectious, and even if you’ve never danced a day in your life, it doesn’t matter—no one cares, no one is going to laugh at you, heck, no one will even be looking your way as they’re all paying attention to the teacher anyway and trying not to trip over their own two feet. While Move Ya Brass founder Robin Barnes’ classes may be based on NOLA dance moves backed by recorded tunes from a brass band, they’re mixed with aerobics and rather formulaic—after a couple measures, you’ll find your groove. In the summer New Orleans humidity, I was sweating hard by the third song; it helped to justify that second dessert for the day I’d have later that night.

There are free Bounce Ya Brass classes beneath the Mandeville Shed at Crescent Park every Tuesday from 5:45 to 6:45. Move Ya Brass also offers other classes like hip hop and stretching throughout the week. (price: free)

Pro tip: After you’re nice and sweaty, stick close to the Bywater neighborhood where you can have a drink at the Country Club and cool off in the pool before moving onto St. Roch Market for a casual dinner in a food hall environment.

Bowl a Strike at Fulton Alley

On my last day in town, we had a few hours of downtime to rest, during which Alex texted me, “wanna go bowling?” And while all I really wanted to do was take a nap (a lot of late nights and cocktailing led me to this point), I wanted to throw a strike a lot more than I did snooze. So off to go bowling we did!

And Fulton Alley was the cutest boutique bowling alley we ever did see, too. We booked a lane for half an hour (they’re available to rent in 30-minute increments), which was just long enough for us to bowl two games and order a round of cocktails before dinner.

I love this trend of swanky lounge-meets-bowling alley that’s been popping up across the United States. In addition to its 12 lanes—and full food and drinks menu—Fulton Alley also has Bocce ball, shuffleboard, foosball and other games, but we only had an hour to spare (no pun intended) and stuck to bowling this time around. (price: $30/hour per lane)

Paddle Bayou St. John with Kayak-iti-yat

Does it seem like everywhere you go now has a kayaking tour as an option? I must say, I love this shift to fitness-based travel. Still, whether you’ve done one kayak tour or a dozen, I guarantee you’ve never been on one like what Sonny and Sara offer at Kayak-iti-yat.

Kayak-iti-yat’s tours tackle New Orleans from both a historical and ecological perspective, exploring the placid waters of Bayou St. John. Located just outside of City Park, Bayou St. John is the oldest part of New Orleans’ with many buildings dating back to the late 1700s and early 1800s on this formerly bustling trade route.

A trained marine biologist, Sonny led our three-hour tour through the bayou—which started in a district that was part commercial, part residential, and wound its way through a waterfront community where we saw mansions and bungalows galore—during which he also gave us the backstories on the first settlers in the area and Louisiana’s fragile eco-system. And yes, we even spied one lazy alligator bobbing in the water, but no fear—he was more afraid of us than we were of him as he drifted out of our path.

Kayak-iti-yat offers tours every day of the year provided there are at least two kayakers signed up. (price: $65 per person)

Pro tip: Head to Parkway Bakery for lunch or dinner after your paddle. There, you’ll find the best po-boys in town and a plethora of local brews on tap to sample, too.

Now, tell me: What’s your favorite way to get out and enjoy New Orleans?

This post was sponsored by the New Orleans CVB. All opinions are my own.

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5 Ways to Get Out and About in New Orleans published first on http://ift.tt/2gOZF1v

[sentrava]

5 Ways to Get Out and About in New Orleans

The problem with New Orleans, in my opinion, is that all you’re going to want to do while you’re there is eat … and drink … then eat and drink some more. I totally endorse this method of travel, by the way, especially when visiting the South’s most delicious city.

But as you might guess, there’s more to the Big Easy than a sophisticated cocktail scene and extensive culinary playground—it would be a shame to vacation at such a cultural hotbed and not try all the other things to do in New Orleans. So next time you’re visiting, put these activities on your itinerary as a means to get your heart pumping (or simply to stave off a food hangover and prepare room in your stomach for the next meal).

Take a Walking Tour of the Garden District

We touched down in New Orleans on a Monday morning and right off the bat headed to the Garden District—a historic neighborhood formed shortly after the Louisiana Purchase for the new Americans who didn’t want to live in the French Quarter—for lunch and a walking tour with Sheila Ferran. I recommend doing this on your first day in town as it will allow you to get your bearings and learn more about the city’s storied past.

Sheila started us off like all good NOLA tours begin: in a cemetery. I was having flashbacks to Ashley Judd being locked in a tomb in Double Jeopardy and told Sheila as much—to which she said, “well funny, they actually filmed that scene in this very cemetery.” (Parts of Interview with the Vampire were also shot there.)

New Orleans may be known for vampires and voodoo, but you don’t get that creepy feeling while going on a walking tour during daylight. Sheila showed us several notable tombs and gravestones in Lafayette Cemetery, and I learned that much like in Tennessee, yellow fever claimed the lives of many of NOLA’s early inhabitants.

From there, we wandered down Coliseum Street and wove in and out of the district, as Sheila pointed out who lived where: Sandra Bullock, there; John Goodman, over there; and Anne Rice, here and there and there (it seems that at one point or another, Anne Rice lived in every stately home in New Orleans!). One highlight was when Sheila pointed out the house where Archie Manning still lives today (and which Eli and Peyton once resided in, as well).

We also got a crash course in New Orleans architecture, from the old-school shotgun houses to the ornate-style Italianate homes, and we even saw a house that could almost be a doppelgänger for my own 1800s beauty: a mash-up of a Queen Anne and Greek Revival.

Overall, this tour is ideal for any lovers of history or architecture or the visitor who wants to get the lay of the land. (price: $35)

Pro tip: Come for the history; stay for the three-martini lunch at Commander’s Palace, a Garden District icon. After walking around in the Southern humidity, you’ve earned it. You can save your feet and take the St. Charles streetcar back to your hotel.

Mix Up a Hurricane with New Orleans Drink Lab

Who doesn’t want to learn to shake it up like a pro? I confess that while I consume a lot of cocktails, I don’t do much mixology at home other than adding a bit of tonic to my gin or ginger beer to my bourbon, so it was interesting to learn how to make New Orleans’ signature cocktail—the Hurricane, of course—the way the pros do it. Enter: Drink Lab.

Situated above Victory, New Orleans Drink Lab explores the cocktail culture that fuels the city, as well as how many of its iconic drinks came to be. We had a crash course in cocktail culture while sipping on a glass of champs and manning our own bartending stations as we prepared our drinks for consumption. Newsflash: I actually like Hurricanes when made properly (with real, homemade passionfruit simple syrup). Who knew?

Keep your eyes peeled for Drink Lab’s monthly prohibition parties; they also offer two-hour classes several days a week, as well as cater to groups like birthday parties or bachelorettes. (price: $65 per person)

Bust a Move with Bounce Ya Brass

I’ll be honest: I wasn’t entirely sure I was going to take Bounce Ya Brass class when I showed up. It was the end of a long day, I hadn’t been sleeping well, and I’d consumed a particularly gluttonous lunch so was feeling rather lethargic. But as Alex, Angie and I walked up to Crescent Park where Shanda, one of the teachers at Move Ya Brass, had already started her class, I heard her whoops and her “love yas!” and I immediately dropped my belongings and jumped right in to join the fun.

Shanda’s energy and positivity are infectious, and even if you’ve never danced a day in your life, it doesn’t matter—no one cares, no one is going to laugh at you, heck, no one will even be looking your way as they’re all paying attention to the teacher anyway and trying not to trip over their own two feet. While Move Ya Brass founder Robin Barnes’ classes may be based on NOLA dance moves backed by recorded tunes from a brass band, they’re mixed with aerobics and rather formulaic—after a couple measures, you’ll find your groove. In the summer New Orleans humidity, I was sweating hard by the third song; it helped to justify that second dessert for the day I’d have later that night.

There are free Bounce Ya Brass classes beneath the Mandeville Shed at Crescent Park every Tuesday from 5:45 to 6:45. Move Ya Brass also offers other classes like hip hop and stretching throughout the week. (price: free)

Pro tip: After you’re nice and sweaty, stick close to the Bywater neighborhood where you can have a drink at the Country Club and cool off in the pool before moving onto St. Roch Market for a casual dinner in a food hall environment.

Bowl a Strike at Fulton Alley

On my last day in town, we had a few hours of downtime to rest, during which Alex texted me, “wanna go bowling?” And while all I really wanted to do was take a nap (a lot of late nights and cocktailing led me to this point), I wanted to throw a strike a lot more than I did snooze. So off to go bowling we did!

And Fulton Alley was the cutest boutique bowling alley we ever did see, too. We booked a lane for half an hour (they’re available to rent in 30-minute increments), which was just long enough for us to bowl two games and order a round of cocktails before dinner.

I love this trend of swanky lounge-meets-bowling alley that’s been popping up across the United States. In addition to its 12 lanes—and full food and drinks menu—Fulton Alley also has Bocce ball, shuffleboard, foosball and other games, but we only had an hour to spare (no pun intended) and stuck to bowling this time around. (price: $30/hour per lane)

Paddle Bayou St. John with Kayak-iti-yat

Does it seem like everywhere you go now has a kayaking tour as an option? I must say, I love this shift to fitness-based travel. Still, whether you’ve done one kayak tour or a dozen, I guarantee you’ve never been on one like what Sonny and Sara offer at Kayak-iti-yat.

Kayak-iti-yat’s tours tackle New Orleans from both a historical and ecological perspective, exploring the placid waters of Bayou St. John. Located just outside of City Park, Bayou St. John is the oldest part of New Orleans’ with many buildings dating back to the late 1700s and early 1800s on this formerly bustling trade route.

A trained marine biologist, Sonny led our three-hour tour through the bayou—which started in a district that was part commercial, part residential, and wound its way through a waterfront community where we saw mansions and bungalows galore—during which he also gave us the backstories on the first settlers in the area and Louisiana’s fragile eco-system. And yes, we even spied one lazy alligator bobbing in the water, but no fear—he was more afraid of us than we were of him as he drifted out of our path.

Kayak-iti-yat offers tours every day of the year provided there are at least two kayakers signed up. (price: $65 per person)

Pro tip: Head to Parkway Bakery for lunch or dinner after your paddle. There, you’ll find the best po-boys in town and a plethora of local brews on tap to sample, too.

Now, tell me: What’s your favorite way to get out and enjoy New Orleans?

This post was sponsored by the New Orleans CVB. All opinions are my own.

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