#like them picking through the remains of the saucer section

[madamairlock]

I’m more sad about the Enterprise than Kirk tbh

[mightymorphingayagenda]

So I received an ask a few months ago about my thoughts on nessian having kids and then last night I had a lot of wine and this happened so, enjoy!?

This was one of those little moments Cassian would bundle up, like some cherished Christmas ornament, and tuck inside his heart forever. If his heart remained in one piece. It was so full he was worried it might break.

The smell of Nesta’s perfume and shortbread had lured him to the kitchen, where he’d found her sat at the table, bottom lip tucked between her teeth and brow furrowed in concentration as she’d iced a cookie. The beam of her high cheek bones a blushing pink in the warmth.

Cue tears brimming.

And he couldn’t even blame it on the presence of any smoke because by some Christmas miracle, his girlfriend had managed to cook something without nearly burning his house down.

Júlia had tucked herself into his girlfriend’s lap, and was mimicking her little mannerisms. Brows dramatically knotted and biting her lip. She’d even clearly tried to match their pyjamas, Nesta’s lose fitting red pants and white tank top a mirror to his daughter’s own long sleeve white shirt and fuzzy red pants.

The two of them were hunched over a cookie each, armed with little icing tubes and humming along to Mud’s ‘Lonely This Christmas’.

“One of those better be for me or it’s the naughty list for you too.”

“Daddy!” Júlia whipped her little head round, grinning excitedly in the way that children did- less actual smile more oh my god look at all my teeth.

“The one and only,” he smiled right back, picking her up as she tried to literally jump from the chair to Nesta’s terror and amusement.

He made a little mwa noise with every kiss he planted on her cheeks, and she was giggling in his arms uncontrollably. Probably hopped up on sugar if the crumbs on the table and the green frosting in her dark hair was anything to go by.

Finally he stopped and his daughter didn’t miss a beat. “Daddy me and Nesta made cookies and we even made the icing on our own and it’s all different colours and she’s really good decorating and she taught me how to draw a snow man!”

It was impossible to determine where one word ended and the other began. Perhaps his daughter had invented her own word several hundred syllables long.

“Can I see?” Cassian pleaded excitedly, putting Júlia down when she nodded so hard he was a little concerned her head might fall off.

“Hi you,” Nesta’s voice like velvet hummed soft and low as he leaned down to give her a chaste kiss, murmuring his own “hey, sweetheart”. Her lips tasted like sugar and he swore he saw a few granules dusted through her thick hair as he pulled back to asses one of Júlia’s creations.

“No way you made that!”

“I did I can show you I’ll show you how to draw a snowman too. And it’s harder than with pencils daddy, because you have to squeeze but you can’t squeeze it too much.”

“She’s got very steady hands,” Nesta said, like she was proud, her head falling back against Cassian’s chest where he stood behind her. He began massaging her shoulders gently. “She could be a brain surgeon,” his girlfriend continued.

Cassian was dangerously close to getting all choked up again.

He’d been a little worried asking Nesta to keep an eye on Júlia this evening. Not because he thought she’d let his six year old start licking plug sockets or anything. It was just they’d never hung out just the two of them before. He and Nesta had only been together eight months and he’d only introduced his daughter to his girlfriend two months ago.

But he hadn’t had anyone else to call when the snow had started falling with a vengeance on his way back from picking up a Christmas tree. It wasn’t Mor’s week with Júlia so she and Emerie had booked a Christmas mini-break, and his brothers were at a conference. So he’d called Nesta.

She’d been more than happy to pick up Lia from school and keep an eye on her. Almost as happy as she’d been nervous. He’d read it in her voice even through the phone. Nesta had never wanted kids, she’d told him as much, and it had put the brakes on their first date for a while. But Júlia had a mum, two in fact, and the idea that there was any pressure on Nesta in that department had slowly began to dissipate.

Still, Cassian had felt a tiny bit...scared. A bit crushed by his wanting them to adore each other as much as he adored them. So walking in and finding them like that, it had taken the wind out of him.

“I am going to be a baker!” Júlia proclaimed from her own seat now, knees tucked beneath her so she could reach the table.

“What will you call you bakery?” Nesta asked with genuine interest. It was lovely. She spoke to Júlia the same way she would an adult. There was no entertaining or humouring his daughter’s insane babbling, she treated every word as though it held the weight that of a wisened librarian’s might.

“Lia’s Bakery and I will you give you free cookies!”

“What about me? Do I get free cookies?”Cassian enquired. “I haven’t had a single one of your amazing cookies yet.”

“You weren’t here! And you didn’t help make them so I don’t think you should get any.”

“I was getting our Christmas tree!”

“Yes where is this tree that has kept you so busy?” Nesta demanded, tilting her head back to look up at him with arched brows. A naughty twinkle in her dove-blue eyes.

She loved teasing him, but Cassian always gave as good as he got when it came to her. With Júlia, well, his daughter got away with murder. Which Nesta found endlessly amusing.

“It’s by the front door. I think I’m gonna need a cookie to restore my energy before moving it again,” he looked to Lia.

“Fine,” she huffed. “But you’re not allowed to pick it, Nesta has to pick it.”

The way she said Nesta. Like she were one of the Disney Princess she loved to tell him about even though he’d literally just watched the film with her. It made his heart explode like a powdery snowball.

“Hmmmm, what about this one,” Nesta hummed, picking up a sugary treat frosted with a big red heart and offering it up for Júlia’s approval.

“Yes, daddy can have that one,” she nodded curtly.

“You can have a bite now, and the rest once you’ve put the tree up,” Nesta told him as he rested folded forearms against the back of her chair and hunched down to tuck his head over her shoulder, tilted a little to give her his best I-fucking-adore-you-woman eyes.

“Tease,” he smirked.

“Strategic,” she corrected, feeding him the cookie.

“Mmmmm,” he groaned. He wasn’t even putting it on, it tasted fucking delicious. Buttery and somehow melting and crumbing in his mouth at the same time.

“You’ve got a little something,” Nesta laughed, brushing the manicured pad of her thumb against her bottom lip.

“I was saving you a taste,” Cassian grinned, giving her a gentle kiss.

“Nesta doesn’t want kisses she wants the Christmas tree!” Júlia exclaimed, exasperated and impatient.

“You read my mind, Lia,” Nesta said.

Cassian chuckled, pushing off the back of Nesta’s chair and wondering back through to the front door.

Lia was hot on his heels, grabbing Nesta’s hand and tugging her from her seat.

It was a fucking massive tree, and his daughter’s eyes were wide as saucers as she took it in, halting in front of the sofa and nearly vibrating with excitement. By contrast his girlfriend collapsed onto the coach and he was tempted to laugh again. Childcare had clearly done a number on her.

But apparently she wasn’t so exhausted she couldn’t manage a little ogling of him.

Cassian might have been smirking by the time he got the tree upright in its stand, preening a little at the way Nesta’s gaze had lingered on his arms as he’d hauled 120 pounds of festivity about.

A fresh blush blemished her cheeks and she was rolling her full bottom lip between her teeth as she watched him. Knees half tucked beneath her and an arm laying across the back of the sofa, her ear resting against it and lose hair falling carelessly about the cushion.

He was going to wife her up so hard.

“Right, how about some decorations then?” He grinned down at Lia, having thrown Nesta a wink she’d batted off with a roll of her eyes.

“We did them in the colours look, we put them out colour coorninated.”

“Co-ordinated,” Nesta corrected fondly from the sofa as Cassian took in the neat sections of ornaments laid out on the floor.

“Co-or-din-ated” Júlia repeated, already on the floor and searching for the first glittering item to hang.

“We’ve gotta do the lights first though, anjinho,” he reminded her.

“Nesta we have twinkly lights and they can flash or you can leave them so they are always shining or when you click it you make it so they go like,” Lia wiggled her fingers in the air which Cassian recognised referred to the cascading setting on the lights, but knew meant nothing to Nesta.

She laughed none the less, Júlia’s happiness and excitement infectious.

“Will you show me?” She asked, propping her head up on her fist.

“You wanna go grab them, Lia? They’re in my office, on the desk.”

“Yeah I will go get them!” She yelled, already barrelling up the stairs, her little feed padding up the wooden slates like she were merely a skeleton of springs bundled up in the body of a little girl.

Nesta laughed again, a wide smile revealing white teeth and one of her beauty spots quirking in a dimple as she watched.

Once Júlia was out of sight however, Cassian was making a play for her attention. Falling onto the sofa beside her and throwing an arm around her waist.

“I think we have a problem,” he sighed happily, a smirk that promised trouble tugging at his mouth.

“We do?” She asked, letting her head rest against the pillow that was his bicep. Looking up at him.

“I only got one tree. But I have two angels.”

Nesta rolled her eyes and groaned through a subtle laugh, burying her lovely face into his shoulder and thus a telltale smile.

“You’re the worst.”

“And you, are the best,” he grinned, pressing a kiss to her hair and she looked up, smiling casual and soft. “Thank you for looking after her tonight.”

Nesta pressed her mouth to his, kissing him with a supple pressure for moment. “My pleasure,” she said as they pulled back just barely.

Cassian grinned again at that and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear with his free hand. “How was it?” He asked.

“Honestly?” She said, a hand coming to his opposite shoulder, thumb rubbing soft circles there. “Made me fall in love with you all over again.”

Brows immediately rising he let slip an, “oh shit.”

Nesta laughed. “I mean it,” she said, head tilting a little as she watched him. “I don’t think I ever actually appreciated what your being a dad meant. There’s this whole person, this kind, clever, funny person who’s just perfect and you made her, from scratch. And you’re raising her and every little thing she does is because of what you’ve taught her it just...” she trailed off. Overcome by a sentiment she couldn’t put into words.

“What are you doing this weekend?” Cassian asked. Unable to help himself. And if he hadn’t been so preoccupied with how she made his heart ache in the best way, he would’ve noticed a similar ache in his cheeks, because he was smiling like crazy.

“I know we weren’t meant to see each other and if you have plans of course you should do those but, well you’re here now, and judging by those very sexy pyjamas you’re staying the night?”

Laughing Nesta slapped at his hand playfully as it slid from her knee, up her thigh to take a greedy handful of her ass, her jersey pyjama bottoms soft beneath his touch.

“Lia and I are going to go ice skating tomorrow. She’d love it if you came.”

“Really?”

“In fact I think she’ll be heartbroken if you don’t,” he admitted.

“You sure you want me there? I know you have this sad little crush on me or whatever but you’re allowed to want time with just the two of you-“

“Shut up,” he laughed. “Of course I want you there. Really it’d just be cruel sending you home to pine over me-"

“Asshole,” she grinned.

“Daddy I will put the lights on but I need to sit your shoulders!”

They both turned their heads as Lia hurried down the stairs with strings of lights spilling over in her little hands.

“Wowwowwow slow down,” he leapt up. “We don’t run down the stairs, do we?”

“Can we sled down the stairs again this year?” Júlia begged excitedly as Cassian scooped her up at the foot of the stairs and held her at his chest with one arm.

“I don’t know what she’s talking about,” he told Nesta. “We have never once done that ever.”

His girlfriend laughed as she stood up and Júlia shook her head very seriously.

“Never ever,” she agreed.

“Then I’m going to beat you both when we do it this year, because I’m a stair sledding pro,” Nesta flicked Lia’s nose playfully.

Her wide eyed gasp made it seem as if Nesta had told her she was Santa.

“Don’t make me haul the mattresses out into the hall right now,” Cassian warned.

“Bring it, old man.”

Honestly Cassian would lose to her gladly, so long as it wasn’t the only ride she’d be taking on his mattress this evening.

* @featherymalignancy

* @sleeping-and-books

* @my-fan-side

* @hearts-of-persephone

* @witchling13

* @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter

* @typicalmidnightsoul

* @sezkins79

* @thebitchupstairs

* @fourshizzle149

* @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies -

* @yikesitsmaddie

* @jjellybean

* @thronesandstars

* @mis-lil-red

* @rhysandsdarlingfeyre

* @cf-mist-and-fury

* @breezy-freezy

* @dayanna-hatter

* @anishake

* @candid-confetti

* @goldbooksblack

* @impossiblescissorspeachpaper

* @justgiu12

* @twansy17

* @caotica-e-quieta

* @singinginthedarktimes

* @carebear1339

* @keshavomit

* @januarystears

* @bookstantrash

[readyplayerhobi]

Captain’s Log | 1

; Starfleet Captain!Jungkook x Ex-Borg!Reader

; Genre: Fluff, angst, future smut

; Word Count: 6.6k

; Synopsis:  Freshly promoted Captain Jeon Jungkook is one of the youngest captain’s in Starfleet history. Sent on a mission to provide aid to a fellow starship, he grapples with multiple problems from a Q who seems to be trying to be human and calling himself Seokjin to having the only Romulan in Starfleet on board and the intricacies of dealing helping an ex-borg crew member readjust. Whether he’ll manage to succeed is another matter altogether, but he’ll try his hardest to prove the USS Yi Sun-Sin deserves a place amongst the most famous ships in Starfleet.

; A/N: So...I’ve just decided to split this. And by split it...I may or may not continue it. I’m not sure how this will be received or if people will even enjoy given it relies very heavily on the Star Trek world. If I can get my inspiration back then I will definitely write the second part which will probably be much longer!

-

Captain Jeon Jungkook stood in the small transport ship, staring out of the viewport with his breath caught in his throat. Before him, was the vast expanse of space. Thousands of tiny twinkling specks of light dotted the view, each one a star that was hundreds, thousands or even millions of light-years away.

There was every chance those stars could already be dead. The big ones would have swelled, more extensive and more substantial as they tried to survive by burning as many gasses as they could before finally going supernova and exploding. All that would remain is a neutron star, the compressed core of what had once been a magnificent sun or instead, a black hole that would eat at the very fabric of the universe.

Smaller stars would simply burn out, becoming white dwarves and cooling for millions of years as they became invisible. Forgotten. What Jungkook was looking at, was visual proof that those stars had existed.

But that wasn’t what interested him.

No, what interested him was the monumental structure that hung in the deadness of space, beyond the atmosphere of Earth. McKinley Station was massive on a scale he couldn’t comprehend. Giant in the kind of way that only space could provide. It was one of Starfleet’s pride and joy, a spacedock that birthed the spaceships that protected the hundreds of planets in the Federation.

Cradled gently in the spacedock’s arms, like a loving mother just waiting to let her child go, sat one of those spaceships. She was brand new, her paint glistening in the lights that shone around her. Like other ships of her class, Curiosity, she had the familiar saucer section that took up a large portion of her size while towards the back, her currently powered down warp nacelles flowed out in two straight lines.

A pale grey, the only notable thing on her was the lettering scrawled across the top of her saucer. It slowly came into view as the transport moved around, letting Jungkook get a good look.

The larger script read her registry number, NCC-75715. It was the clearest text, but he wasn’t interested in that. No, he was interested in what was written above that in a smaller font.

USS Yi Sun-Sin.

Her name. The name she would be known by across the stars. The reason he was interested in the magnificent ship, so new that she would probably have the delightful fresh smell when he got on board, was that she was his. 

Captain Jeon Jungkook, one of the youngest captains in Starfleet history, was the captain of the brand new USS Yi Sun-Sin. This was the first time he’d ever laid eyes on her, but he could feel his heart swelling with pride already as he watched the ship get closer and closer. He would lead her crew through the galaxy, make the hard decisions, explore the unexplored and defend the defenceless. 

It was still hard for him to realise that he’d made it. His years at Starfleet Academy had gone perfectly. Almost too perfectly. The highest grades, the best physical performance and graduated top of his class. He’d only been beaten in the mathematics and physics sections by a Vulcan, which was unsurprising.

After that, he’d run through the ranks of Starfleet at an exponential rate. As a result, he was only 31 and already a captain. His parents were beyond happy and bursting with pride that their little boy had made it to the honoured ranks of Starfleet. Just an ordinary guy from a small city called Busan.

Yet here he was. About to embark upon the greatest adventure.

-

One Year Later

“Engineering, what’s the status on the warp drive?” Jungkook asked, his finger pressed onto the screen embedded into the arm of his comfortable captain’s chair. The bridge stretched before him, a small space before reaching the helm and beyond that was the enormous viewscreen that let him see what lay beyond the Yi Sun-Sin.

A scientific anomaly in the nebula they’d been studying for the last week had caused the warp drive to unexpectedly power down. They’d been operating on thrusters since, managing to push the ship just far enough that they’d left the nebula. Engineering had been working on the drive ever since, frantically running through diagnostics and repairing blown conduits.

A starship without a warp drive wasn’t of much use to anyone. Jungkook was desperate to get it working again so he could get both his ship and crew away from any potential danger.

The last thing he needed right now was for a Borg cube to randomly fly by.

That thought ran through his head and he cringed at the thought, pushing it away quickly. He hoped that didn't happen. With the current roster, Jungkook didn't need his crew needing yet another reason to hate the Borg.

Not that he'd begrudge anyone for their negative feelings regarding the Borg. They were terrifying and Jungkook prayed to whatever god would hear him that he would never have to come across them. 

Any alien species they found that they deemed to be a worthy addition to their gigantic Collective was swiftly captured and assimilated. Rarely did those people ever manage to return once taken.

But a few did.

When he’d been choosing the crew for his ship, Jungkook had had the pick of a wide range of capable candidates. He’d quickly earned himself the Captain of Lost Causes title amongst his peers when they saw who he’d chosen.

His crew was eclectic, to say the least.

And that included an ex-Borg. The only ex-Borg in Starfleet since the demise of Icheb, a capable officer who had unfortunately been killed to harvest his Borg parts. Jungkook, and everyone else in Starfleet, had found that a sad day. Even more so because it had been the infamous Seven of Nine who had delivered the parting blow, ending his suffering when she found him.

He couldn’t even begin to imagine how painful that had been for her. A lot of people were under the assumption that those who had once been Borg still retained their lack of humanity. Or whatever you called that in other species. They were wrong. People had it, they just didn’t know how to access it anymore.

Which was why he’d picked you to be his astrometrics officer. You had retained your knowledge from when you’d been in the Borg Collective, one drone amongst millions, even billions. That meant you had a formidable knowledge of space and how to traverse it, a mathematical mind that could only be met by an android and an innate understanding of science.

Needless to say, you were a brilliant Starfleet officer. 

You didn’t quite make such a good human though. Along with struggling to find your place amongst free-minded individuals once more, your social skills found much to be desired as well. Everyone on board Yi Sun-Sin knew about you, and they all knew about the problems you had faced in Starfleet Academy when it came to others.

Jungkook had found you endlessly fascinating for the first few weeks. Your lack of awareness regarding certain social graces and your complete disregard for rules if you felt they were interfering with something worthwhile had both bemused and exasperated him.

When he’d been given this ship, the only thing he’d thought about had been how to ensure he was commanding a large number of Starfleet personnel efficiently and with care. He wanted to be the kind of captain whom people were confident about coming to with their problems while also inspiring strong loyalty to take them into dangerous situations.

He most certainly had not expected what had happened with you over the last year. Not that he particularly regretted any of it. Starfleet didn’t have any concrete regulations when it came to fraternizing. Jungkook knew because he’d frantically scanned them all when he’d realised how deep he was into his feelings. All he’d been able to do was maintain that his personal life remained personal and that when in command, he didn’t let anything interfere with his job.

Alongside you though, he’d also taken on Lieutenant Commander Jimin. The slight man was currently standing behind the communications console to the left of Jungkook at the back of the bridge. He was Jungkook’s second officer and a Romulan. The only Romulan in Starfleet. Just like you, it had made him a little bit of an outcast amongst his fellow officers and cadets at the Academy.

Romulans were not exactly renowned for being friends of Starfleet. But Jimin’s family had fled Romulus before he’d even been born, gaining asylum on Earth and becoming productive members of society. Jimin had never known what it was like to be amongst Romulans; he’d never even seen the homeworld of his species.

That didn’t stop people from distrusting him though. From viewing him through the lens of hostility and anger. Unsurprisingly, he’d somehow formed a friendship with you and it pleased Jungkook to see that you both at least had each other.

But that wasn’t what was important right now. The damn warp drive was.

“Engineering reporting,” The soft and feminine voice of his Chief Engineer, Siyeon, filtered through to the bridge. “We have almost managed to fix the drive, Captain. I estimate another hour and a second test run will be required before I can recommend restarting the warp drive safely.”

Her words were brisk and precise, the famous mark of the ever so logical Vulcans. Siyeon had been the Vulcan to beat him in the subjects he’d hadn’t come top in at the Academy, her analytical mind pursuing her to move through the engineering ranks. When he’d seen her name available for his crew he’d jumped to bring her aboard, promoting her to a senior rank.

She was exactly like she’d been at the Academy, almost unaged due to her extended Vulcan lifespan. Long black hair in an understated cut, eyebrows in a straight line that made it a little hard to understand what she was thinking sometimes and the familiar pointed ears of her race. Due to the same origins of their species, she looked remarkably similar to Jimin with his ruffled black hair, straight brows and pointed ears.

Jungkook was glad to have her on board though. He felt like she could see problems that he hadn’t even considered before and sometimes came up with solutions that seemed surprisingly creative for a Vulcan. Though her second was a human. Chaos incarnate.

“Great, let me know when it’s ready and we’ll give it a try.”

“Acknowledged.” 

He has to purse his lips to stop himself from laughing at her brusque dismissal. It was still jarring to be dealt with in so quick of a manner but Jungkook knew that Siyeon didn’t mean to be rude. She just had more important things to worry about. 

“Jimin,” Jungkook called out to the Romulan, looking back and taking in his immediately alert stance. “Are the sensors showing anything?”

His direct gaze leaves Jungkook’s to look down at his console once more, fingers flying as he taps in commands and looks over everything. The top part of Jimin’s uniform above his heart is solid gold in colour, signifying he’s part of the operations division. It makes his slim shoulders look slightly broader, but not by much.

“Nothing in front or to the side of us, sir. I can’t confirm behind us. We’re still too close to the nebula and our sensors can’t penetrate.” Jungkook always found it a little odd, even after six months, to be staring at someone who resembled a stoic Vulcan so strongly and yet was the complete opposite. Jimin spoke with urgency, a slight tinge of worry in his voice as he was unable to give Jungkook everything he wanted while his brows dipped towards each other as his face gave away even more.

Romulans had never embraced cold logic like their cousins. If anything, Jimin was prone to bouts of rage if he was pushed to his limit. Quick to take offence and even quicker to take action. An unfortunate Romulan trait.

“That’s fine Commander, don’t worry too much over it. We’re still moving away so keep checking. Sensors at max, I want to be aware of every tiny meteor flying even remotely near us in this sector. I do not want to be surprised.” A brusque nod accompanied Jimin’s acknowledgement and Jungkook turned his attention to the next thing on his list.

Looking over to the chair next to him, he raised a slight brow at the Bajoran male sitting there. For a few moments, Commander Yoongi Min didn’t seem to realise his captain wanted his attention. He was too busy scanning over a datapad that had been handed to him by an ensign.

“Min?” Jungkook prompted, causing Yoongi to look up abruptly. The familiar ridges on the upper bridge of his nose gave away his Bajoran heritage, alongside the traditional decorative earpiece that was connected with tiny chains to the shell of his ear, an important part of his culture.

Licking his lips, Yoongi coughed slightly before nodding as he collated the reports he’d been given while Jungkook’s had been busy. 

“Sickbay reports ten injured when the conduits blew on deck 11, section B and C. No other casualties. Engineering teams have already repaired those conduits. Holodeck 1 is out for the moment due to a power surge caused. No ETA for the moment.” He carried on, the reports less important now he’d gotten the big ones out of the way but Jungkook still listened intently as his mind raced.

Once finished, he nodded his thanks to Yoongi before contacting sickbay for an update from his Chief Medical Officer, Dr Dahyun Troi. 

“Dr Troi, how are the casualties? Are you okay down there? Do you need any extra help?” There was a brief pause but he didn’t push it. He may be the captain of this starship but the Chief Medical Officer was the only person who was allowed to give him orders if necessary. The last thing he wanted was to aggravate her.

“Captain, we’re looking good here. I’ve already treated and released four of the casualties. Another three are probably going to be able to go in half an hour once I’ve given them a final scan. The last three are going to be here a little longer, I’m afraid. Ensign Adewale has a crushed left leg that will require surgery to repair while Lieutenant Martinez has suffered head trauma. I can’t give a firm diagnosis on Lieutenant Kapoor, though I do have a feeling that we may have to divert to a Starbase for the medical facilities there to look after her. There may be amputation required.” Dahyun’s voice was calm and gentle despite what she was reporting.

It made her the perfect doctor in Jungkook’s opinion. Always reassuring and with a soft tone of tranquillity, she managed to keep her patients relaxed even under the most stressful and painful of times. 

Which made sense. She was half-human and half-Betazoid, a telepathic race which allowed them to be empathic. The ship’s counsellor, Commander Taehyung Grax, was a full Betazoid. His stronger abilities made him a better option for sensitively dealing with the crew's psychological issues.

“Okay, keep me updated on whatever you need. We’ll plot a course to the nearest Starbase just in case.” Jungkook responds, ending the communication. Taking in a deep breath, he just lets himself have a moment to compile his thoughts and just...breathe. He hasn’t slept in almost twenty-four hours.

Logically, he knows that he could just leave the bridge and get some rest. Yoongi would keep track of everything for him and call him back if anything critical needed his attention.

The soft noise of the elevator doors opening caught his attention, looking over to see you walking out with your usual, self-assured strides. Your face was carefully blank, the Borg implant along your jawline matched with another at your temple. They’d been too interwoven with important nerves to be removed.

“Captain, the astrometrics lab is functioning as expected-” Anything else you were about to say is cut off by the sudden movement of Lieutenant Commander Jung Hoseok. The Chief Security Officer, normally so jovial and bright, moved at what seemed like warp speed to the main area of the bridge, his phaser pointed in front of him while he called for more security.

“Who are you. Identify yourself.” He said sternly, his elegant face like a stone as he watches the newcomer with wary eyes. Every tiny movement is tracked and before Jungkook even realises what he’s doing, he’s standing as well. Brow creasing, he looks over the man who has appeared in a flash of white light.

“I know who he is,” Ensign Namjoon Dax, the chief helmsman said softly. “He’s a Q.”

“Oh no, please no.” Yoongi moaned softly from Jungkook’s side, a hand coming to rub at his face. There was no need for Jungkook to question why he was reacting like that because even he knew what that meant. It had, unsurprisingly, become required reading to go over the reports from Captain Picard, Captain Janeway and Captain Sisko regarding their encounters with the being simply known as ‘Q’.

It was both his name and the name of his race. Extra-dimensional beings with immense power over time, space and plenty of other things that Jungkook desperately didn’t want to get involved with. Like the laws of physics, for starters.

Q was not something that any Starfleet officer wanted to get involved with. Because for as monumentally powerful as they are, as knowledge as they were, they were like petulant children. Constantly bored and wanting to play with the ants. Of which Starfleet ships often ended up being their playthings.

“You’re right, I’m a Q. How did you know? It’s my dashing good looks, isn’t it? Nothing in your universe could possibly compare to this exquisite facade. Handcrafted by the...well I don’t know but that’s not important.” Q said, his full lips spreading into a beautiful smile.

He wasn’t wrong. The alien man stood before Jungkook was good looking, to the point it almost looked unnatural. Tall and with broad shoulders, he had jet black hair that was swept off his forehead in an elegant style while his large eyes practically sparkled with mischief.

It made Jungkook feel ill.

“I know...because I’ve dealt with a Q before. The Q.” Namjoon is still sitting at this console, the red of his uniform denoting his command division and Jungkook feels a small swell of pride at how calm he’s being. Although, there’s no reason to get hysterical. From what he’d read, there was absolutely nothing he could do to make Q disappear until he got bored and left.

“Really? I don’t remember you,” Q said, puckering his lips into a pout while one dark brow rose as he scanned over the helmsman. “Handsome, tall, those familiar markings on your face...you’re a Trill. Do you have one of those creepy worm things in your stomach too?”

Gesturing towards Namjoon, Q’s nose scrunches up in disgust. Trill’s were a humanoid race and some of them were ‘joined’ with a symbiont. A worm-like creature that could only live in the body of a Trill, which was passed from host to host. As a result, Namjoon had the memories and knowledge of all the former hosts of his symbiont.

Including meeting Q, apparently.

“I have a symbiont, yes. And you won’t remember me. I’ve only been joined for a year. You might remember one of my previous hosts though? Jadzia Dax? From Deep Space 9?” There’s a brief moment of quiet as Q thinks before his mouth drops open and he points at Namjoon.

“Yes! You were very beautiful. Though you wore blue then, not red? And you were a woman. Is it strange, going from gender to gender?”

“No. It’s natural. I’m the Chief Helmsman of the Yi Sun-Sin whereas Jadzia was a science officer. You don’t look like that Q though.” Clearing his throat, Jungkook tries to turn the conversation to himself. He was the captain of this ship, after all, it felt odd to be so clearly excluded from the conversation.

“Oh well, that wasn’t me. That was my brother, Q. He shared his memory of you, that’s why I know. I’m Q. But I’ve been quite bored lately so I thought I’d try out this whole...living like one of you things. So, you can call me Captain Seokjin! Reporting for duty!” He says this brightly, grinning as he salutes. There’s another flash of light and suddenly, the plain white robes he’d been wearing are turned into a Starfleet uniform.

A command uniform...with the relevant pips of a Starfleet Captain on his collar.

Letting out a groan, Jungkook tries to control himself as he realises that he wasn’t going to be getting out of this easily. A Q who wanted to be human, or at least act like a Starfleet officer? At least cadets at the Academy were going to remember his name after being forced to read this report as well.

“You can’t just...turn up here and demand to be part of our crew,” Jungkook states, as calmly as he can with high blood pressure rising this much. “Can’t you...go to one of the inhabited planets if you want to live like us? Find a city and-”

“Pssht!” He’s interrupted by Q, or rather Seokjin, lifting a hand and making a gesture as if he was trying to blow away a bad odour. Baffled at being interrupted so blasé, Jungkook just stares at him for a moment with wide eyes before looking over at Yoongi. His second-in-command just gave him an unsure shrug, uncertainty written all over his face.

“I said I want to live like one of you. That means on one of your fancy starships, getting into danger and fighting bad guys. I wanna pew pew everyone!” Finger guns at the ready, Seokjin pretends to fire at Hoseok. When his Chief Security Officer just scowls at the intruder, Seokjin just grins and laughs.

Pressing at his temple, Jungkook reminded himself that headaches didn’t exist anymore. They’d been cured long ago. He was just feeling a phantom headache, that was all.

“You can’t just...waltz onto a starship and give yourself a command. For starters, there’s only one captain and that’s me. Another point is that you are most definitely not qualified to be on this ship. You haven’t passed Starfleet Academy, therefore you can’t be given a rank of any kind. And even if I did give you a field rank, it would be Ensign. Because I don’t know what you can do. If I’d even want to let someone as...chaotic as you even touch anything.” Maybe he went a little too far with that. Some of his words felt a little bit harsh and Jungkook had to work hard not to give away that he was uncomfortably aware that he might have pissed the omnipotent being off.

But all Seokjin does is sighs dramatically, rolling his eyes and flapping his arms around in a remarkably childlike tantrum. 

Subtly raising one hand, Jungkook calls for the security team to stand down. They do so slowly, unhappiness at the order apparent but they can’t go against their captain’s order. Straightening, Hoseok keeps a firm hand on his phaser, the gold of his uniform clashing slightly with the red he’d decided to colour his hair with recently.

“Why not? I’m more powerful than you anyway. I could take you places you’ve never even heard of. How about the Kinmara system?” Clicking his fingers, there’s a flash of light and the view out of the large screen changes abruptly. Instead of the vast expanse of space, there’s a large planet creeping into view.

“What the...where are we?” Jungkook asks, looking over at Jimin with wide eyes. His operations officer is staring with equally wide eyes before scanning the information on his console, rapidly touching it as he changes what he sees. 

“I...I don’t know. The star charts don’t match up with any of the stars out there and we don’t have this planet in the system. From what I can see...it’s an M-Class with a breathable atmosphere. Gravity slightly stronger than Earth but within acceptable parameters. Multiple life signs across the planet.” He stutters slightly, eyes flickering from the view to Seokjin before moving back to Jungkook.

An M-Class meant it was habitable to life forms like humans or Vulcans. The fact that it wasn’t charted, or explored, meant that Seokjin had no doubt used his immeasurable powers to transport the Yi Sun-Sin who knows how many lightyears away from their previous location.

“Yes, it’s called Kinmara. The system is named after it. It has two moons, one of which is also inhabited and is called Breehana. Lovely place, the weather is beautiful and the ocean is just right. Only the ocean is pink, as you can see. I love pink, it’s so pretty to look at, don’t you think? Anyway, the Mara’s, the name of the race down there, don’t get many visitors so you might find it interesting to visit.” Looking back over at the Q, Jungkook realises suddenly that he’s also materialised himself into a fancy chair.

It takes a lot of effort to bite his tongue and not snap at the powerful being. Jungkook needs to get back to where they were, and Seokjin is the only one who can do that. Especially when they didn’t even have warp drive yet.

“I’m sure it’s a lovely place to visit, but right now I would appreciate it if you would just transport us back to where we were? You see, we need to make some final repairs to our warp drive so we’re not interested in exploring Kinmara right now. But if you let us know where it is on a star chart then I’m sure someone at Starfleet will eventually get round to exploring it closer.” Giving a genial smile, Jungkook gives himself a mental pat on the back. He didn’t even sound remotely annoyed then, perfect.

Only he forgot that he’s not dealing with some rational lifeform. He’d read enough about the previous encounters with Q, and read the regulations on how to handle an encounter with one, plenty of times to know that there was no such thing as rational to them. They did what they wanted, when they wanted and how they wanted.

Unfortunately, this Q had chosen the Yi Sun-Sin to be his plaything for today. Which meant that headache that shouldn’t exist was beginning to very much feel like it existed.

“Oh, are we not exploring today? How about some action instead? I know the perfect place.” Another snap of his fingers and everything goes white once more. What takes a mere second feels like minutes, with Jungkook dreading what they’ll be faced with. Because if there’s one thing he’s certain of right now, it’s that it would not be where they’d started.

He’s greeted with a vista of space when he finally opens his eyes, the twinkling lights of far-off stars as familiar to him as the back of his hand. A welcoming sight.

What is not welcoming, however, is the immediate alarm that begins to blare through the bridge. Automatically, the lights dim and a familiar, if unwanted, red light begins to flash throughout the bridge while screens begin to show what the ship deems to be important information. 

Red alert. The standard Starfleet setting for when enemy ships are detected or they go to battle stations. Automatically, the ship has put itself into red alert when something has triggered its sensors. Under normal circumstances, this would mean the Yi Sun-Sin would be primed and ready for battle with weapons ready.

With no warp drive though, it was just a foreboding sound that chilled Jungkook to his very bones. Because there was something out there. Something that his ship deemed a danger to itself and her crew. Something he couldn’t fight.

“Sensors?!” He barks, jerking into movement. Hoseok doesn’t even waste a breath, practically leaping behind the security console and tapping at the screen. There’s no need to ask what he’s doing, Jungkook already knows that he’s trying to see if there’s anything they could do to fight.

“One ship, sir. It’s spotted us, five-million kilometres out and closing. It’s…” Jimin trails off, his already pale face draining even more as his mind acknowledges what he’s reading. His reaction alone makes Jungkook feel sick. Romulans weren’t prone to fear when it came to fighting. They lived for this kind of stuff, beaten only perhaps by the Klingons.

“It’s a Borg sphere, Captain.” The soft words come from behind him and he spins around, eyes widening while the rest of his expression freezes in dual shock and dismay. Your face is carefully neutral, just like it always is and he watches as you work through the data on your astrometrics panel. The sensors for your area are far more sensitive than the general navigation, which makes it no surprise that you’d figured it out first.

“Borg?” He almost whispers. There’s no need to look at the rest of the crew. The subtle wave of fear at the incoming ship moves around the bridge like a harsh wind. But at the same time, he feels a thread of pride at the actions of his senior command. No one panics or starts shouting, instead there’s an odd silence that soon turns the fear into resolve.

There may not be a lot that they could do, but Jungkook would be damned if the Yi Sun-Sin didn’t go down fighting in some way. Even if he had to ram the sphere. Did it make him a bad captain if he’d much rather his crew die in a suicide mission than be assimilated into a lifeless collective?

Glancing back over at you, he sees what no one else does. The fear in your eyes. The pure terror at the knowledge that the Collective you had once been a part of was so close to taking you again. From many conversations with you over the months, both casual and a little more intimate just before sleeping, Jungkook knew that you would rather die than go back.

There was no individual in the Borg. No one person, no freedom of thought of free will. There was only the Collective. A central mind that connected to every single Borg throughout the galaxy, billions upon billions of minds all working as one with no thoughts of their own. You had immeasurable knowledge from all the information that the Borg had harvested from the races they had assimilated over time, but you were terrified of losing your individuality once more.

A Borg drone, which you had once been, was nothing. The Collective thought nothing of killing off drones they deemed defective or those that couldn’t be repaired. There was no compassion, no empathy. No love.

Yes. Jungkook would rather his crew die than put them through that. He didn’t think he’d have many complaints about it either.

Perhaps a little selfishly too, he couldn’t bear the thought of putting you through that once more. You’d finally learnt how to be an individual once more and were exploring your humanity. The thought of you lost forever once more was even more painful.

Looking over at Seokjin, Jungkook gritted his teeth and pointed at him with fury. If only the Q didn’t have the kind of power that Jungkook couldn’t even begin to imagine or understand. He would sincerely love to punch the smug, handsome asshole.

“Take. Us. Back. I told you, we have no warp drive! That means we have no weapons! You’re not going to get the battle you wanted. We can’t fight the Borg, not like this. Take us back! You can be on the ship, fine whatever! Just...don’t touch anything and let us just do our mission! Please.” He begged, about ready to get on his knees if necessary. 

Maybe it wasn’t very becoming for a Starfleet captain, but he didn’t care right now. He had no idea where they were in the galaxy and if the Borg got them, then Starfleet would never know either. The Yi Sun-Sin would go down as missing in action, just another mystery that would never be solved.

But Seokjin’s attention has moved onto you, a curious expression taking over. Tilting his head slightly, he walks over to you with long, elegant strides that make it seem like he’s been on this bridge many times. It annoys Jungkook and he has to ball his hands into fists to stop himself from lashing out at the Q.

You could take care of yourself, he knew that. Jungkook had far more important things to stress over than Seokjin taking a sudden interest with you. So it’s with great pains that he turns away and begins to bark orders at his bridge crew, demanding the status of weapons before patching through to engineering and getting an update from them.

“What are you?” Seokjin asks you, eyes of a deep chocolate brown scanning your frame up and down repeatedly. Unlike anyone else on the bridge, the colour of the top portion of your uniform is blue. A signifier of the science division, it was rare for you to be on the bridge; Jungkook wished that you weren’t here right now given the way Seokjin was looking at you speculatively. 

He shouldn’t have been concerned though because you handled the omnipotent being with the same, cool regard that you did everything else. It had been a little frustrating when he’d first taken command, even more so when he’d realised that he had a potential romantic interest but he loved it right now.

Because you just stared at Seokjin, your gaze not giving away a single hint of emotion or expression. A slight tilt of your head gives away that you’re considering him and Jungkook probably shouldn’t get as much satisfaction as he does by the way Seokjin shuffles, almost as if he’s awkward.

“You are a Q. The Borg have never met your species before. I have no frame of reference for how to engage with you except for the reports from Starfleet.” As usual, your words are straightforward and precise. No one ever has to worry about whether you hold hidden intentions, it’s simply not in your nature anymore to engage in subterfuge.

“The Borg,” Seokjin sounds surprised and he scans over you a few more times, brow rising. “You can’t be an actual Borg, they wouldn’t let you stay here. Not to mention you don’t have all that ugly machine stuff on you. Humanoid and in a Starfleet uniform. You were a Borg, but now you’re not with the Collective anymore. How fascinating.”

“Very. Captain, if you will excuse me then I have duties to attend to.” You’re looking at Jungkook now, lips pursed expectantly. Pausing in his questions to everyone else, Jungkook nods and permits you to leave the bridge. It’s not unnoticed by him the way Seokjin watches you in fascination as you leave. His stomach turns at the sight and worry fills him.

Not that there’s any point. You can take care of yourself and more importantly, none of them could stop whatever Seokjin wanted to do.

“How very interesting.” Jungkook can’t help but glare at the Q as he watches you leave, twisting his lips in a bizarrely human gesture. Finally, he reaches his boiling point and points in frustration out of the viewscreen.

“Borg. Danger. Leave. Now.” Part of him knows that he shouldn’t be as blunt and rude, not when the situation was this dangerous. But he didn’t care, he just wanted his crew and ship away from danger. Something that Jungkook couldn’t do himself. He’d begged, he’d argued and now he was being firm.

If Seokjin wanted to pretend to be part of his crew then he would have to learn to take orders from him. It was the only way this whole stupid thing was going to work without causing Jungkook some serious stress. The very fact that he was even considering this said volumes about the fear and pressure Jungkook was under right now.

Exhaling slowly, he pleaded with himself internally to keep himself calm. From what he’d read about the Q, and that was the race as a whole, it wouldn’t do to antagonise him. It’d do no one any good if he decided to just disappear, leaving the Yi Sun-Sin to its fate.

“Fine, fine. Urgh, you lower lifeforms have no sense of adventure. You’re all so boring.” A click of his fingers sends everything white once more. Once his vision clears, Jungkook immediately starts barking orders to his crew. He didn’t need to though, they were automatically moving like a well-oiled machine.

“We’re back where we started, captain,” Jimin confirms with a nod of his head, his gaze still focused on the readout from his console. He doesn’t say anything more, his fingers too busy darting across the screen as he takes in what he’s seeing.

“Well, this was a waste of my time. I’ll be back when the fun starts.” With that, Seokjin vanishes. The bridge is eerily silent for a few minutes after he’s gone, everyone looking at each other in confusion as the red alert status disappears now they’re safe again.

“Is he gone?” Yoongi asks, looking over at Hoseok. The security chief glances down to his console, lips pursing as he scans through the information before nodding his head slowly.

“No...Q life-signs detected on board. Or rather, only what we expect should be onboard. Looks like he’s really gone.” Something inside Jungkook relaxes and he suddenly feels so, unbelievably, tired. Groaning quietly, he flops back into the captain’s seat and rubs at his forehead. He should visit the medical bay, it’s not natural to have a headache.

“Okay. Okay, well. He’s going to come back, we know that. Just be prepared, warn everyone on board and I want to be informed the moment he turns out. Hoseok, you better make sure your security team is ready for anything he decides to do. I know you probably can’t do anything but it’ll sure as hell make me feel better. Yoongi, get onto engineering and see if they can speed this whole thing up. I want to be gone as soon as possible, is that understood?” Yoongi nods, automatically turning to the interface in his chair.

“Yes sir, I’ll collate reports from all departments and send them to your ready room.” Nodding to his second-in-command, Jungkook stands and stretches with a groan. He’d spent long enough on the bridge and he just wanted some time to relax. But he couldn’t do that, not yet.

“Great. I’m going to head to sickbay, check-in with Dr Troi as my head is killing after that incident. Then I’m gonna try and get some rest. You’ve got the bridge Yoongi, once the engines are fixed and working then get us going again. Warp 8, back on our path. And...send a report to Starfleet about what’s happened. Try and get some advice on what to do with all this. Everyone good with their orders?” Looking around, everyone on the bridge nodded in acknowledgement to him and a weight lifted off his shoulders.

He had a good bridge crew, and he knew that he could rely on them while he was gone. Heading over to the turbolift, entering the circular car and asking for the desk that medical bay was one. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighed as it began to move.

“Fuck.”

[random-mha-thoughts]

Sleepless (LoV x Reader)

Pairing: League of Villains x Reader, platonic relationship

Shigaraki, Toga, Twice, Kurogiri, Dabi x reader

@riarora messaged me with the request: "So I was thinking platonic LOV x child reader (You can make them 18 if you're more comfortable, but I was thinking more like 14-15)The reader (I'll refer to them as she/her, but you can make it gender neutral) has really bad insomnia so every night, she would be pacing around, doing anything and everything to make sure no dark thoughts take over. Usually, none of the LOV would bat an eye, but considering the fact that she's a child, they feel sympathy, so they indirectly try to get her to fall asleep. Like, sending her on extra missions (always with protection of course) or changing her normal tea with sleeping tea, or maybe just straight up telling her to sleep."

Genre: Comfort

Word Count: 2,291

Tags:  @yuki-osaki​ @liviitehe​ @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog

a/n: Thanks for the request sweetie!  I hope you like it~

Wrote this while listening to a Shinsou playlist on Spotify and it was pretty chill to listen to, if y’all want the link you can comment or dm me and I’ll send it.  Something different, but I like how it turned out. It's twice as long as I thought it would end up being, but I think it fits.  It's a comfort story that I hope you guys will read even if you don't normally read stuff for the villains.  I really like it, I hope you guys read it if you need some comforting.  Enjoy~

Like a lot of people, I don't have the nicest thoughts.  Most nights, I'm trying everything to block them out and find the sweet release of sleep, whether it's trying to consciously think of other things to block them out, escaping out of my sheets to pace or run in place inside this small room I was given, or getting up to get a snack.  Unsurprisingly, none of it works.  The rest of the League constantly tease me about my dark circles making me look more villainous all I do is smile, because at least it means I'm part of something now.  I would ask them to get me something to busy myself, like a sketch book or a notebook to keep me busy at night, but they aren't my parents; they have no obligation to take care of me and they've already give me a roof over my head and a bed to sleep in.

Little by little, the perceived barrier between us broke down before I realized it.

It started when I took one of my late night trips to the kitchen only to see the light on already.  Toga's crooked but innocent smile beams up at me as she twirls a knife in her hand, leaning against the counter.  "You're up too, hmm~?  Wanna take a trip with me?"

We ended up shrugging on our jackets and masks, walking into the dark, brisk night to the nearest grocery store.  "You waited until 2 AM to get pomegranates?" I raised an eyebrow at her zipping straight to the produce section of the market.

"I didn't wanna go alone~" Toga casually responded in her singsongy voice.  "A little girl like me shouldn't be out alone at night.  Besides, late night shopping in a practically empty supermarket is the best time to go.  It's super creepy!"  She giggles, filling a plastic bag with three large fruits.

We returned to our hideout and she asked me to help her de-seed them.  I slide in next to her, taking the knife out of her hand.  Not like I had anything better to do.  What was I gonna do, sleep?  Sure, okay.

She sliced the fruits in half and held her hands over a large, empty container, using just her hands to push the seeds off the bitter white core, humming to herself.  "Are you sure there isn't a more...strategic way to do this?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at the mess she was making of her hands.

Toga just giggled and held my stare with her cat-like yellow eyes.  "When it gets all over your fingers, it kind of looks like blood doesn't it?" She shivered in ecstasy as she licked the scarlet juice running down her hands and the knife she cut them with.  "Mmm, so sweet."

While I continued, trying to avail to be as clean as possible, taking sips of the tea she made for us while we work.  I chanced a few tastes myself, chuckling at my own hands.  "You're right, it looks like we've commit murder."

"Right?" she chirped with the widest grin, "Isn't it fun?"

I made a better point to get more juice on my fingers before curling my fingers grossly towards her.  "I want your heart, Toga.  Give it to me!" I growled.

She giggled and held one of my wrists so she can lick some of the juice off.  "Too bad you can't have it."

After we finished gathering the seeds into the bowl, we sat on the couch, munching on them by the handful and finishing our drinks.  My eyelids kept drooping as I drank my tea.

"We should go on adventures more often," Toga purred as I near the end, taking my cup, laying me down, and covering my body with a blanket before petting my head.  Her voice singing, "Sleep well, (Y/n)" was the last thing I heard before drifting off.  It was the best night's sleep I'd gotten in a long while.

.

A few days later, Kurogiri stopped me from heading to bed while the rest went off.  "I heard you and Toga up late a few nights ago.  Why don't you help me clean up before going up?"

I agreed, mostly because I would be awake with my thoughts anyway.  He had me shining his glasses, climbing up a ladder to dust the top shelves of his bar, wiping down the counters, and organizing his liquor.

"Have some of this, child."  He set down a cup of tea and saucer on the counter while I was organizing his top shelf liquor, the clock flashing 1:57 AM.  "You've been a big help."

I climbed down carefully and stare down at the translucent, peach colored liquid carefully.

He noticed my cautiousness.  "How are you adjusting?"

I tilted the cup around, swishing the liquid around before holding it up to my lips.  "It's better than where I was before, thank you."

"I'm glad you're settling in and getting along with the rest."

"It's just Toga so far."  I sipped a good portion of the hot liquid, easing down my through smooth as the honey I can taste that he added.

"It'll take time for the others to warm up to you.  Shigaraki and Dabi especially don't take to strangers that easily, but they'll come around."  His cold, portal enclosed hand rested on my head.  "We're happy to take you in as our family, (Y/n)."

I smiled at his assurance of me, nodding in gratitude, but still hesitant about feeling that I fit in here.

We talked for a while more until I finished his tea and he sent me off to bed.  Though reluctant - I even offered to do more cleaning up to keep myself there - he insisted I leave.  I trudge to my room, the exhaustion in my bones and muscles more apparent than usual.  I know this old trick; even when I'm fatigued, my thoughts still keep me up.  But as I ease under the blanket and close my eyes, I feel myself pulled down into sleep without interference.  I started thinking there was something in the tea.

.

It took a while for Shigaraki to come around, as Kurogiri said.  He heard the rustling of me rolling around in bed on his way back from getting a glass of water from the kitchen.  "Hey, you still awake?"

I turned over and sat up.  "Am I bothering you?  I'm sorry-"

"You wanna come play games with me?"  It was an unexpected question.  He never talked much to me so I figured he wanted to keep his distance.

But I still agreed, ending up in his dark room where only the TV cast its artificial light over us.  He pulled up another pillow for me to sit with him, leaning back against the mattress and box-spring stack.  He resumed his game, some kind of RPG with amazing art and storytelling.  The main character had jet black hair and traveled with three other guys of varying talents and personalities.  They seemed to have a great relationship together as they trekked across their virtual world in a fancy car. (1000 brownie points if you know which game i'm referencing)

There was a hilarious part in the game where the crew rode on the backs of these fluffy, yellow birds that were the size of ostriches.  "What's the point of this part?" I asked curiously.

Shigaraki beamed at the screen, his chapped lips spreading in joy.  "It's just something you always have to do in these games."

My eyes remained glued to the screen.  Shigaraki wouldn't ask me if I wanted to play after one time, which I appreciated.  I'm not too good at playing games, I prefer watching other people play them from the sidelines.  I followed the complicated story line, impressed with how fleshed out the world is, the detail in the art, and the power system interface.  If I were better at gaming, I'd understand how amazing it would feel playing it; I was immersed in it even as a spectator.

The game got to a cave-crawling segment.  The eased up voice acting, ambient noise, and dimmed lighting made my eyes heavy.  I didn't want to fall asleep in Shigaraki's room, but I also knew that I wouldn't be able to sleep if I went back to mine.

"You can sleep if you want.  Get comfortable."

Though he didn't particularly use a motherly voice like Kurogiri, I understood he was trying to come off the same way.  I ended up laying on my head on my pillow, sprawling onto the floor on my stomach, the noise of the game slowly lulling me off to sleep.  In the morning, I would wake to a blanket pulled over my body.  It somehow became a weekly occurrence; we wouldn't talk to each other, but the silence was comfortable.  It was reassuring that I didn't always need that strange tea to put me to sleep.

.

Late nights with Twice are probably my favorite.  He's like a huge dad, or much older big brother.  I connected with him on a more emotional level than the rest.  If I found myself in the kitchen rummaging for snacks, he'd come up and pick out a bunch and sit us at the table with some tea.

"I have trouble sleeping too sometimes," he admitted, popping some chips in his mouth.  "I was lonely before I found these guys.  I had no one but myself, and the many versions of myself weren't the most forgiving on me either."

I stared down at my glass of warmed milk.  "So your thoughts were actually told out loud to you all the time?" I whispered softly.

"Yup."  He blinked before waving his hands in front of his face wildly.  "But that doesn't mean I had it worse than you, that's not what I'm saying at all!  Your problems are just as valid and important and-!"

"It's okay, I understand."

He offered a sympathetic lopsided smile.  "I know you've been through a lot, kid, and it probably feels like a lot and nothing at the same time.  The times when it feels like a lot will hurt, and that's okay.  You'll get through it and grow up to deal with it in your own way.  And there is a light at the end of the tunnel, believe me.  You can't see it now, but it's there.  Keep fighting through it."  He touched my hand over the glass.  "I'm here for you, we're here for you."

I felt like crying, suddenly choked up by the bitter nostalgia of missing my parents.  "You'd be a great Dad, Twice."  I tried to cover for my tears and unsteady voice by clearing my throat and rubbing my eyes.

He hummed in response.  "I've always wanted a kid.  Things never ended up that way though."

I found myself finally sobbing at his misfortune piling on top of mine.  "That's really shitty actually," I choked out.

He handed me a tissue to wipe my face with.  "Let it out, kid.  Sometimes it's good to just cry it out."

And I did, until I finally sobbed myself to sleep at the table, and Twice picked up and returned me to my bed, tucking me in like the soft dad he should've been.

.

Dabi remained the hard nose one, keeping his distance and looking down on me.  Like Shigaraki, walked by my room while I was tossing around, but he stood over my bed.  "Hey.  If you don't go to sleep, I'm putting you to work."

Put me to work he did, sending me out to fetch him snacks, cards, or cigarettes.  Once, he decided to join me and we ended up on the roof of our abandoned building after coming back from the convenience store.  The stars already dusted the sky as Dabi lit the cigarettes with his blue flames just for fun, watching them disintegrate into ash in front of his eyes.  I never knew how to get him to open up, he's too gruff for me to start a conversation with him, so I stuck to being mesmerized by his flames.

"What's on your mind that you can't sleep, kid?" he finally asked, breaking the awkward silence and cutting off his quirk to stare me hard in the eyes.

"N-Nothing."  I hated to admit it, but I'm scared of Dabi the most.  Both him and Shigaraki can end my life in a fraction of a second, but Dabi overall has the scarier aura.  "Just...thinking."

After a few more moments of braving his stare, he looked up.  "Yeah, we all do that a lot, don't we?  Us damn human can't help but think.  It'd be nice if we can pull the cord sometimes, yeah?"

"I guess," I answered carefully.

He studied me again out of the corner of his eye before flickering back up.  "Do you ever think that's why none of us survive well alone?  We need other people to distract us all the time because then we'd get stuck in our heads, and we all know how dangerous that can be if we're stuck there for too long.  It never ends well."  He adjusts himself, placing his hands behind his head to rest his neck.  "We all got demons, kid.  It's what makes us stronger, but you gotta grow from them first.  And I guess that's what the rest of us are for, so if you need us, you know what to do."

It was with Dabi that I realized he had a point.  I'm not alone anymore and none of the others seem to think of me as a stranger or a stupid little kid they have to be responsible for.  I'm a member of this group now, I should rely on them as support, just not in the traditional way.

How I ultimately ended up here doesn't help any of the awful things I tell myself or what happened to me, but being here definitely helps, especially when I'm surrounded by people who subtly share solidarity with for now.

[mourntheantagonist]

Billy Hargrove’s Exploration Of Beauty

| part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 |

Part 7: When Blue Met Pink

chapter one: joyce

also on ao3

Billy pulled into the parking space outside of Melvald’s with a screech of the tires. The body of the car slightly jerked forward once he finally came to a complete stop just before he would hit the yellow parking block. The right tire sat just outside the white line, a rookie looking parking job to say the least.

With his wallet in one hand, and his keys twirled around the index finder of his other, as he heard the metal pieces clank, he walked through the glass doors into the store. He heard the chime of the opening door ring through the mostly empty space.There were only a few people. An old lady who was carefully inspecting the soup aisle, and a middle aged woman with her toddler son who were walking past the ice cream. The little kid with his hand up in the air, his finger pointed to the tub of rocky road that was barely visible through fogged over glass. He noticed the exhausted eyes of the woman masked by heavy mascara and shadow. “I already said no Daniel.” she sighed. Joyce Byers was at the counter, her elbows resting by the cash register, head propped up in her hands as she stared blankly in front of her with her head tilted in a way that indicated she was thinking about something that the rest of the world just couldn’t comprehend.

He ignored the total three figures that roamed the aisles of the small little corner store, offered a wave and a smile to Mrs. Byers that went completely unnoticed, and got to the task at hand. Not there to pick up some milk or butter like Neil always had him do whenever they ran out, as if he was the one sneaking spoonfuls of butter at two in the morning. No, that was all Max, the fucking weirdo. He also wasn’t there to pick up a pack of cigarettes, though he probably would once he got to the counter, considering the phrase “pack of reds” served as his default greeting to every cashier. He was there, at Melvald’s, at three in the afternoon, like a fucking sap, because he was buying little treats for the boyfriend he had waiting for him at the big house off of 3rd avenue, a movie and hopefully more as their evening plans.

He knew what Steve liked. He hated what Steve liked. But despite his utter disgust over strawberry fruit snacks tainting delicious cheddar cheese popcorn, the smile on Steve’s face whenever he tossed a new box of Sunkist Fun Fruits at him was worth the effort of sifting through the bowl. He located the snack aisle and picked out the familiar yellow and red box, along with some Orville Redenbacher. The time on the clock overhead read only a quarter after three, and Steve wouldn’t be home from dealing with the nerd herd until at least a quarter ‘til, so with his extra time, he continued to browse.

He picked up a couple of other things. A box of Twinkies so he could make some of his favorite jokes, some Ho Hos so Steve could make some of his. The basket was slowly filled to the brim with junk food, indicative of a truly wild night ahead of him.

On his way to the refrigerated section to scope out the drinks, the glimpse of a carefully assorted rainbow of colors stopped him in his tracks. It’s a small section, no more than two and a half feet in diameter, but at almost the instant he recognized the familiarly shaped bottles on display, he went on complete pause. There was nobody anywhere around him, no sound of nearing footsteps, so he let himself stand there and ponder. Let himself imagine just reaching out and touching something on display as he kept his eyes averted, locked straightforwardly toward the cases of beer behind translucent refrigerator doors. He just stared blankly, with an inner attempt to form some reasonable excuse to be a man who was looking at makeup.

“Oh, Max asked me to pick it up for her.”

He settled on that one.

And turned his head.

He was just going to look. That was all.

There held a whole magnitude of various beauty products, from polishes, to moisturizers, to lipsticks…

That rosy pink stared right back at him like it was screaming at him to pick it up. To look. To swatch. To taste. To feel that velvety cream cover his lips. A tint similar to that of his own lips but just more… pretty. Smooth and elegant and airbrushed. “Soft matte look,” it read.

He wanted it.

He wanted to add it into the basket of goodies he’s already collected as another treat for himself. Maybe a treat for Steve if he decides he likes it.

They discussed it in the past in a very, tip-toed around the subject kind of way. Steve gently held his hand in his as he applied a light pink varnish, similar to that of the lipstick shade, onto his nails. Steady hands perfectly coated the area without any sign of streaks or rough edges. They’d reached a point where that was routine, a little thing Billy could have of himself while they were alone together. Another thing they could add onto the list. It was something Billy felt just a little bit of safety around taking with him that one time. When the night had gone so perfectly with hot cocoa by the furnace, and the added bonus that Neil wouldn’t be home to inspect his appearance, he said no to the cotton balls and acetone and the clear coat replacement and instead let color coated nails remain under the cloak of his jacket pockets. He was on cloud nine as he walked through the door of his own house with concealed hands and no questions asked. He locked the door to his room and allowed himself to stare down at his hands. Fingers splayed against his bedding looking at how the pink contrasted with the blue of his sheets, and he felt an overwhelming sense of contentment and a little dash of pride.

That same night, while his nails were going from bland to bold, Steve popped the question like it held no weight at all. Like it was just a casual sort of thing used to fill the silent gaps.

“Have you thought about wearing makeup at all?”

He didn’t even look at him when he said it, completely enthralled in the way the bristles contacted the nail, so he didn’t see Billy's eyes widen like saucers. However, he did notice as the hand in his hold began trembling.

Steve ever so slightly tightened his grip to help reduce the shaking, his eyes angled up at Billy finally, the painting temporarily discontinued. “Hey, are you okay?” he asked.

No. Yes? The thing was, with Steve’s first question, the answer was yes. He had thought about it. All the damn time. Like a woodpecker pecking away at his skull, he thought about it. Every time he saw a woman with a shimmer on her eyes, black in her waterline, a shine to her lips, a rosy tint to her cheeks… he felt unbridled envy. He wanted to feel the way they felt. Billy wanted powder to clog his pores and give his face a uniform color. Become a blank slate. He envied that soft and smooth and gentle and pretty appearance.

He found himself on more than one occasion sneaking into the master bathroom where Susan had kept all of her make up. Too scared to touch it, he would just look at it. Try to psyche himself up to reach for that little tube of Mary Kay mascara and shove it into his pocket before the rumble of the truck outside would shake the house.

Instead he would slam the drawer shut and rush back to his room and forget it even happened as he bit away at his clear coated nails. He’d fall back onto his pillow and let his eyes fall shut. He would let the darkness consume him into a dream where he didn’t have to be afraid to add volume to his already long lashes or add a tinted gloss to his lips. He’d enjoy the free feeling for as long as it would last.

So yeah. He thought about wearing makeup.

He didn’t tell Steve that though. Instead he chose to only respond to the second question. Because some things were just a little too hard to say out loud. Some things were a little too foreign.

As much as Billy wanted to bridge that gap between femininity and masculinity, he also had every desire to keep them separate. To push away all of those urges to wear lacy lingerie and silk panties. Keep his hair short, face and nails bare and unkempt. Smell of sweat and hard work like a man. “I’m fine.” he said in lieu of the complete truth. It didn’t feel or sound like a lie when he said it. But later on he figures out that it definitely was.

They had that conversation already, but it didn’t keep those thoughts from lingering. His mind was boggled with confusion about who he was and what he liked and the additional bafflement over how simple it all was to Steve.

So simple in fact that he said the most perfect thing as if it was just another instinctual flick of the tongue.

“Well I can bet you’d look real pretty with lipstick.”

It was said like he wants it. Not just for Billy’s sake, but his own, and that right there felt amazing.

That was the first night he finally let his hands sift through that drawer of Susan’s and sneak away a couple of items. Susan and Neil had yet to arrive home from their trip into the city so Billy was safe. He had painted nails that felt like a shield. When he held the tube of mascara, the nude bullet lipstick, and the only bottle of polish he could find in his own hands, he felt completely untouchable.

He locked himself in his own room and stood in front of his makeshift vanity. Tossed the stolen objects into the mess of cologne, hairspray, and cigarette ash. He just studied himself for a moment. Hunched over taking deep and shaky breaths, in and out. Every logical thought in his mind was shouting at him to go put it back. To put it somewhere other than his room. That dreadful thought that just its temporary occupancy in his room would be easily detected by Neil, even if he chucked it out of his window right then, scared him. It was all too risky to be doing in his own house, yet he still twisted open the cap of the mascara and pulled out the wand.

It was in that moment that Billy had no fucking clue what he was doing. Didn’t even know where to begin.

He just closed it right back up, slipped it underneath a stack of records, and moved on. He twisted open the lipstick only to be met with a very light shade. Lighter than his own skin color. Applied to his lips it just looked absolutely ridiculous. It didn’t give him that pop of vibrancy he envied in the women he saw. It made his lips feel more sunken in and lifeless, rather than big and beautiful.

And he already knew he hated the nail polish. He didn’t even have to apply it. It was a rust color, like a dirty orange. Billy hated the color orange, and mixing it with brown didn’t fucking improve it.

It was all a total bust. A complete waste of his energy. With his sleeve he wiped the lipstick from his lips and stowed away the rest of the contraband. He went to bed feeling extra shitty, the despair of empty darkness was the only thing included in his night.

He stopped letting himself think about makeup since that night. All it achieved was making him feel disappointed and just... bad. No other way to describe it.

But it all came flooding back when he saw the display. Not the bad feelings, the good ones, the ones he had in his dreams. The feeling of completion that couldn’t be realized with the makeup Susan guilt purchased off of a friend’s “growing small business.” There was a little hope growing in the pit of his stomach as he let himself peruse the many options at his disposal. A little bit of hope that maybe he just didn’t have the right stuff.

He just held the pink lipstick in his hand. He debated between dropping it into the basket or hanging it back up on the hook. Twiddling it in between his fingers, he let his mind race to many different places. Emotions of fear and joy clashed in his mind, like he couldn’t have one without facing the other.

But fear wasn’t dependent on joy. Because a small woman cleared her throat next to him and, surely enough, the only thing he was feeling at that moment was complete terror. Not an ounce of happiness to be seen.

It was Joyce Byers.

Well shit.

“Whatcha got there?” she asked, neck craned to the left to make out what he had tightly clasped between his fingers.

“It’s for Max.” he said, too assuredly. Like it was clearly a prepared statement, the lie obvious in the pitch of his voice.

“Really? Max doesn’t strike me as a makeup girl.” It’s not really accusatory, not necessarily. But he could hear it. That ever so slight undertone in her voice that had disbelief written all over it. Her head was cocked just like it was when he first walked into the store, and it felt like she was reading him like a goddamn open book.

Billy couldn’t seem to find the words, unsure how to defend himself in the situation he was completely unprepared for. Stood there in silence as he let the words filter through his brain, waiting for the right ones to pop up in front of him, but they never did. He never really knew how to talk to older women other than through excessive and overdone flirtation.

“What shade did you pick?”

With no other choice in his immediate thoughts, he handed the lipstick tube over. She slowly took it away from his slightly too tight of a grip. She had a slight smile when she pulled off the cap to see the rose colored tip slowly rise out as she twists the bottom of the silver tube.

“This is pretty, though I think a shade like this would complement a skin tone more like your own. Wouldn’t you agree?”

That was the invitation, right there in that subtle little nod. She made eye contact with him before she quickly turned her eyes downward at his hands. the same hands that were nervously chipping away at dried, hideous, rust colored nail polish that he painted just before he left as a little surprise for Steve. Even though he hated the color, even though his right hand looked much better than his left. Ambidexterity was not something in his wheelhouse. He immediately stuffed his one free hand into his pocket, and tossed the other one that was currently holding his basket of groceries behind his back. As if she hadn’t already seen. She’d figured him out like some elementary math problem. The lipstick and the nail polish was just a 2 + 2 = 4 kind of situation.

“I don’t - this isn’t…” He couldn’t get a full sentence out because he really had no clue as to how to deny it, and there’s also a weird feeling that he loathes where he’s not sure he even wants to. She was just Joyce Byers. His only connection to the woman had a pretty long chain. Steve’s ex’s boyfriend’s Mom. Or Max’s friend’s Mom. Nothing direct. Nothing so close that he had to truly fear. Additionally, she was being nice? She wasn’t doing the things he’d always expected people to do. She wasn’t spewing slurs or making fun. There was a genuine motherly interest in the way she asked for the color that wasn’t completely foreign, but it was something so far away in his past that it might as well have been.

His face got red from just his own natural blush. His heart was racing, beating out of his chest until he could hear the blood pumping in his ears. He felt like he’s being submerged under water until there was a small, cold hand pulling at his own.

“Come with me.” she says, her voice soft and planned. Billy just let her guide him, giving up and giving in to the little temptation to let someone else inside of the little sanctuary he built for himself. Even if all it was was just a small little glimpse into Billy’s secret world he’d only just begun exploring. He had so many things left to discover, things he wouldn’t find if he let his fear and shame dictate everything.

Joyce led him into the compact supply closet in the back of the store. They’re surrounded by shelves filled with boxes and various miscellany. He felt slightly suffocated in the small enclosure, but simultaneously a weird feeling of warmth in the way Joyce smiled at him. A soft upturn of the corners of her mouth, lips still sealed but the sincerity clear in the brightness of her eyes and the slight rise of her brows.

“What were you looking to get?” she asks. Unspecific yet specific. She left a name unattached to the end of the question on purpose to give Billy the opportunity for an out, if he wanted to deny the thing they both knew to be true.

“Lipstick? Gloss maybe? I don’t - I’m not sure I…”

After taking the full basket from his hands and setting it onto the floor, Joyce took his hands into her own again.

“It’s okay, y’know, if it’s not for Max.”

She was so straightforward. She just got right to the point without it feeling like an attack. Just strode right in with unwavering acceptance and affirmation. Letting him know that it was okay.

He looked at Joyce and saw his mom. Not the mom who abandoned him with Neil, but the mom who did things like this. The one who would cradle him after a nightmare and who told him he was destined for greatness. The one who encouraged him to be himself even when his father had other ideas.

“You know who you are. Nobody else gets to say differently.” she’d tell him when his father forced him into baseball and threw out his stuffed animals. Neil would go on to replace the keepsakes that represented softness with model cars and legos. It was just an act of toughening him up and preparing him to become a man at the ripe old age of seven. He was reminded daily of his role as a man in society with little tests just to make sure he stayed in line.

“What’s your favorite color?”

“Red.” he’d say, when he wanted to say purple.

He’d get berated when he cried when he got hurt.

“If you want to cry I’ll give you something to cry about,” Neil would say, as he stuck a hydrogen peroxide saturated cotton ball into the open wound.

Billy’s Mom never did that. Always warned him about the sting and rubbed his arm the whole way through. Preaching the opposite of everything his Dad would say. “It’s okay to cry, honey. Just let it out.”

His Mom was beautiful. He loved to sit in the bathroom and watch her as she put on her makeup. He’d seen the way her mouth dropped open when she applied mascara to her eyes, the way she smacked her lips together after she swiped on her favorite red lipstick... he wanted to be just like her.

He’d stolen from her once, and it didn’t end well. It was just a red lipstick. He was caught, almost literally, red handed. When his father had barged into his bedroom without so much as a knock, the red on his lips turned into red elsewhere. It was a mistake he learned never to repeat.

After all that, there he was, in a store where he listened to a woman tell him that all of the things he was raised to believe were far from okay, were perfectly okay. With Steve’s voice in his head echoing that of his Mom’s and Joyce’s, he let himself actually believe it this time.

“Thanks.” Billy said. It’s the closest thing he’ll get to an admission. He can’t outright say it, but in the way her smile widened before she turned around, he knew she understood.

“So,” she said, “–I have some product we can’t sell because the seals were broken. They’re still perfectly fine if you would like them.” She pulled a couple of things from the box on the lower shelf. The same lipstick he’d held out in the store along with a clear gloss, a small eyeshadow palette, some face powder and mascara. A full face worth of makeup moved from the palms of her hands into his own, accepting them with a nod of his head and the sniffle of someone trying to hold back tears.

“Are you sure?” he asked. A question with multiple meanings. All of which Joyce seems to pick up on. She pulled him into a tight hug. A warmth encompassed him all around that made him feel so overcome and just… good. Joyful and free like a painful growth was painlessly removed along with the truth’s reveal.

“Yes. I’m sure Billy. It’s okay.” An answer with multiple meanings.

They both exit the small closet, it felt like a metaphor for something. He headed up to the counter to buy his items, and Joyce began scanning his things when she got another smile on her face.

“Special occasion tonight?” she asked.

“Yeah. I got a hot date.” Not a lie.

She laughed a little before she punched the keys on the register.

“Anything else I can get for you Billy?”

Billy smiled.

“A pack of Reds.”

- : -

When Billy pulled into the driveway of Steve’s house he barged right in through the front door. He held the paper bag close to his chest and he shouted an “I have arrived!” that echoed up the stairs and all the way up to Steve’s room. Billy could hear the springs of Steve’s bed before he got up and rushed down the stairs to greet him with a little peck on the lips, immediately taking the bag from Billy’s hands to begin the formal review of his selections.

Steve set the bag onto the coffee table and began to sift through all of the things Billy bought. He tossed the cigarette pack at Billy with aggressive force before going right back into the bag.

The real surprise laid close to the bottom of the bag, hidden beneath the Twinkies and the popcorn and all the other junk food that had Steve beaming. Food was truly the easiest way to Steve’s heart.

Billy stood there tapping his foot and grabbing at his hands behind his back as he waited for Steve to see all the other things he got, to give him that little reaction he always knew would be positive, no matter the voices in his head that told him otherwise.

He seemed to have reached the bottom of the bag when he stalled. He just stared into the bottom of the brown paper bag, the table already covered in scattered candy and snacks, the only things left in the bag were the gifts from Joyce.

“Please tell me you’re going to put this on tonight.” Steve finally turned to look at him with an absolute ridiculous smile on his face. His mouth and eyes couldn’t possibly get any wider than they were right then. He seemed so fucking excited and it all radiated straight into Billy, and all he could do was walk up to him and kiss him. Billy pulled Steve’s face with both hands and practically consumed him like he was one of those Hostess desserts. Two untameable smiles pressed up against each other.

Billy reached for the tube of lipstick out of the bag and held it in between the two of them, he asked, “Are you going to help me put it on?”

Billy was wrong. Steve’s smile could get wider. Steve took Billy by the hand and sat him down on the couch, taking the bag with him as he straddled Billy’s lap.

“You know what you’re doing pretty boy?” Billy asked. He pushed Steve’s hair behind his ears as he looked up at him in awe. He relished in Steve’s excitement that was perfectly matching his own. It was all he could ever ask for.

“Yeah,” he said, “I’ve seen Nancy do it enough times.” Billy rolls his eyes at the mention of her name. Steve poked him in the face, causing Billy's face to scrunch. “Oh get over it Billy, I am.”

Billy was already shaking with anticipation and just wanted to get on with it without the mention of Steve’s former girlfriend. “Just shut up. Make me the prettier one.”

“Oh you already are, gorgeous.”

Steve twisted open the lipstick and carefully held Billy’s chin up so he was looking directly at him. With a steady hand and a soft touch, the smooth cream brushed against his lips and coated them to perfection. No overdrawn lines or transferring to his teeth, the color suited him so well, just a soft pink just slightly darker and more vibrant than the color of his own. It made his lips look bolder and fuller than they already were.

“Now look straight forward for me,” Steve said before he reached into the bag for another piece of product. “–and raise your eyebrows.” Steve twisted and pulled the wand from the metallic gold tube, the black bristles looked like spider legs. “Okay, hold still.”

“I swear to God Steve, if you poke me in the fucking eye–”

“Have some faith in me, damn!”

Fortunately for both Billy and Steve, none of the black goopy liquid found its way into Billy’s eyes. There was only a minor sting that, with time, he could easily see himself get used to. The sensation was followed by the feeling of soft bristles going in circles around his cheeks. Steve had asked him to smile for the application, but that wasn’t the reason he was doing it. The look of focus in Steve’s eyes along with the slight exposure of the tip of his tongue through his mostly sealed lips had sent Billy reeling.

Steve leaned back to get a complete view of his work. “Wow, I’m good.”

“Okay, hot shot,” Billy said with a nudge to his shoulder, “show me then.”

In a moment of surprising strength, Steve hoisted Billy up and over his shoulder by the grab of his ass. Billy’s stomach had come to rest right on the point of Steve’s shoulder, which sent him into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. His voice fluctuated and bounced with each step Steve took down the hall toward the bathroom. Billy clung to Steve’s shirt, hiking it up past the midpoint of his as he did so.

“Oh my god! Put me down!” he laughed.

Billy’s legs flailed, with the result of a knocked over a lamp and a bruised ankle from the abrupt contact with the doorframe.

“Ow!”

“Sorry!”

Steve sat Billy on the edge of the sink, his face still faced away from the mirror. They were still coming down from their laughter when Billy, seemingly having forgotten about the makeover that he had just been given not even a full minute ago, leant down in an attempt to lay one right onto Steve.

“Hey, don’t ruin it before you even see it!” Steve pushed him back away from him and then helped him down from the sink and with a comforting grip of Billy’s biceps, he turned him around. “See? it looks so good on you!” Steve stood behind Billy with his hands trailing down to his waist, head over his shoulder, looking at him like he was his brilliant creation. Steve Harrington’s masterpiece, his most prized possession. “Wait right here, I got you something.”

Left alone in the bathroom, Billy was able to just let himself stare. Let himself lean in close to the mirror, his nose nearly touched the glass as he studied the tint to his lips, the definition to his lashes, the slight pink to his cheeks... It was the first time he ever looked at himself, like really looked at himself, and saw someone pretty. He truly believed it this time.

Steve came back with a bag of his own. It was a small bag with a French name on the side of it Black, and elegant, and Billy already had an idea of what’s inside. The day just kept on getting better. Billy tore the tissue out of the bag, and pulled the pieces of fabric out. It was a dust rose garter belt with stockings, panties, and a bralette, a perfect match for his lips. The lace was so sheer and the baroque floral patterns were so elegant he wanted nothing more than to just put it on right there. Strip himself down to the bare essentials and allow the openwork to protect him.

“You think you wanna give me a fashion show?” Steve asked, pulling the sleeves of Billy’s jacket down over his shoulders. Billy smiled and pushed Steve gently out the bathroom door and shut it right in his face.

He wasted no time putting it on. The way the fabric sat on his hips and his chest felt almost like it was tailored specifically to him. Enough room in the crotch area while also perfectly hugging his hips. The stockings squeezing his thighs just the perfect amount. There was no uncomfortable overhang in the bralette. He had never felt more comfortable wearing anything before. The pink on tan skin, the emphasis on every curve of his. He felt so soft and pretty and almost totally complete. He was just missing one thing.

Billy strutted out of the bathroom with a genuine conviction he’d never had before. There was no fear this time, no tears. Just pure elation at the prospect of Steve seeing him like this. Loving the way he looks in lingerie and makeup. Loving him for who he is and thinking he’s still hot. Still sexy and attractive.

“Holy shit you look fucking amazing baby.” Steve slowly walked toward him. He took in the whole view, committing the entire sight to memory because it was absolutely glorious. “I hope you aren’t mad,” he began, his hands finding Billy’s hips. “but I had my Mom pick it up while she was in Paris. I found out they make men’s lingerie there and I wanted you to have something special. She doesn’t know who it was for, but she knows I’m dating a guy now.”

They had never really discussed the topic of coming out. It felt like something that didn’t need to be said. Telling people was something so far off the radar of possibility that Billy felt a creeping sensation of absolute dread before he was finally able to open up his mouth to speak.

“And she was okay with it?”

Steve smiled and bowed his head just slightly. “Surprisingly, yeah. She was the one who wanted to pick something up for you. So I jumped on the chance.”

“Does your Dad know?” Steve laughed and shook his head.

“God I hope not. His brain would probably explode.” Billy pulled Steve in by the hold of his cheeks, and let their foreheads touch while they stared deep into each other’s eyes. Steve’s hands traced up and down the curves of Billy’s body, fingers dragged against the lace and their smiles were uncontrollable. “I’m sorry, I should have asked you first.”

“Hey,” Billy’s voice was soft, “I’m happy for you.” Steve's sigh of relief was hot against Billy’s mouth. “And thank you, for this.” he said before the distance between them was finally closed and lips were pressed to lips, pink color smeared all over each other’s faces.

The only thing better than wearing that lipstick was having Steve ruin it.

next part

[theheartsmistakes]

The Last Night Part XIV

(A/N at the end)

Parts I-XIII:

Here is Part I

Here is Part II

Here is Part III

Here is Part IV

Here is Part V

Here is Part VI

Here is Part VII

Here is Part VIII

Here is Part IX

Here is Part X

Here is Part XI

Here is Part XII

Part XIII Part XIV

James and Matthew were hovering outside the Devil’s Tavern, which presented an august Georgian facade to the mundane eyes and was the site of many a municipal meeting and festivity. Or rather, as Matthew acknowledged, James was the one hovering, conspicuous in his anxiety, while Matthew leaned against the inn’s front wall, smoking a cheroot and gazing upward in the annoying way he did when he was overcome with boredom.

The Devil’s Tavern was the only place left in London that none of their parents knew anything about. Not even Will Herondale knew about his son’s inauspicious lease in the tavern and would therefore be the safest, most logical place for them to conduct their research.

“What time did you tell them to be here?” asked Matthew, still musing at something in the sky. “I do wish you’d stop fidgeting.”

“I told them noon,” said James. “But Christopher is not the most reliable man we know.”

“He is the most reliable when something is in need of exploding or a new specimen needs to be collected,” said Matthew. “Perhaps next time tell him that you have an enchanted box that needs to be unlocked.”

“Does this feel wrong to you?” asked James. “We’re supposed to spend this hour patrolling and we’re hiding in The bloody Devil’s Tavern from our parents.”

“This is, in a sort, patrolling,” said Matthew. “We’re conducting research on how to locate your demon granddad and kill the bastard, but in order to do that, we need to find a way for you to access the shadow realm again or it’s all for not. So, we’re doing our job, just not in the way we’re expected to be doing our job.” Matthew slapped James’s hand away from his hair. “I said stop fidgeting.”

“If we’re caught…” James started but couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence. While the four of the Merry Thieves agreed that the risk was worth the reward of defying Charles Fairchild’s newly established rules, the risk still hung over James’s head like an anvil waiting to drop. He’d reassured himself time and time again that ordinary chivalry demanded action and that his indignation had more to do with Charles’s complete need for control than the punishment being fair or responsible.

“Oh for Raziel’s sake, we won’t be,” said Matthew. “We’re trained in being discreet, remember?” Just then the door to the Tavern burst open and a head attired with goggles, poked out.

“I don’t see them,” said Christopher before he turned his head to where James and Matthew were standing. He removed his goggles up into his hair, wiped his face with an emerald scarf, and shoved the door open with his shoulder. “What are you two standing out here for? We’ve been waiting for you in the Devil for nearly twenty minutes. Thought the parentals got a hold of you.”

“You’ve been here the whole time?” asked an exasperated James. “We’ve been waiting… never mind. Get inside, quickly, before someone notices us.”

“I must admit, I’m a bit tempted to see how red my brother’s face can get if he catches us deliberately disobeying him,” said Matthew as the sound of boots clambered up the wooden stairs.

“This coming from the one having a crisis over the thought of being strapped to his brother’s desk,” said James over his shoulder. Christopher laughed ahead of them.

“That was before I witnessed my mother make him cry after threatening to strip us of our marks,” said Matthew.

James paused. “She made him cry?”

“Weep,” said Matthew. “I believe the words ‘yes, Mummy’ were said at least twice.”

“You lie!” said Christopher ahead of them.

“I exaggerate, Kit,” said Matthew as they reached their door, “but I never lie.”

The door burst open like a tightly wound jack-in-the-box as the three boys burst into the room. James walked across the room and took a seat at a small table in the window nook while Matthew made himself comfortable on the long sofa. Christopher met James at the table and busied himself with turning over the pages of an old book.

“Where have you lot been?” asked Thomas from the couch. “We’ve been waiting for you for twenty minutes.”

“They were outside,” said Christopher, examining the pages of the book.

James stood, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt to expose his forearms, as he walked to the center of the room. “All right, we have only forty minutes left of our patrol to come up with a plan on how to access the shadow world without the use of my useless power.”

“How’s that coming along?” asked Thomas.

“Am I in the shadow realm?”

“No.”

“That’s how it’s coming along.” He pressed his back against the wall opposite Matthew, Thomas, and Christopher. “It’s never felt like this before. Everything that usually works, isn’t. Chaos. Danger. Pain. Isolation. Even when I feared Lucie and Cordelia were trapped there, I still couldn’t push past this invisible wall.”

“Invisible wall?” asked Christopher.

“Yes,” said James. “That’s what it feels like, an invisible wall blocking me.”

“Perhaps you need more fiber in your diet,” grinned Matthew.

James squinted at him, unsure if he was joking, and decided to carry on without acknowledging  the statement. “We need to start researching a way into the shadow realm that doesn’t involve my ability.”

The sound of chair legs scraping against the floor turned everyone’s attention towards Christopher as he shoved himself away from the table. “I’ve read about this,” he stated, excitedly. “Pockets. Uh… uh… portals they were called, but they’re like pockets in our realm to other realms. You experienced something like it at the cemetery which allowed Cordelia to access the realm after you and for Matthew and Lucie to draw you back.”

“Brilliant,” said Matthew. “Now that we have an access point, let’s come up with a plan to kill the bloody bastard.”

“Well,” said Christopher, sliding his glasses back up his nose. “We don't necessarily have an access point.”

“You just said—“

“Allow him to finish, Matthew,” said Thomas, looking like a giant inside the low ceiling room. “Go on, Kit.”

“They move.”

“The pockets?” asked James.

“Yes,” said Christopher, his almost sapphire eyes, enlarged by his lenses, glanced around at the faces staring back at him. “They appear in a spot but only remain for 12 to 24 hours.”

“Brilliant,” grumbled Matthew and slipped lower on the couch.

“Is there any way to track these pockets?” asked Thomas, while watching James stand and pace the floor.

“I cannot recall,” said Christopher. “I read about them in the forbidden section of the library at the academy. I was researching alternative methods of travel and found an extensive research that featured combinations of dimensional manipulation.”

“In English, if you would please,” said Matthew, lolling his head to look at Christopher.

“I am speaking English,” said Christopher. “If you are requesting for me to simplify it for you, then be plain about it.”

Matthew rolled his eyes as Thomas asked, “Do you remember what book it was?”

“Of course.”

“Can it be found in a public library?”

“No.” The boys released a communal exhale.

“Well,” said Matthew as he picked a piece of lint on his jade trousers. “It appears we’re left with piss but no pot.”

“Not necessarily,” said Christopher, stepping forward into the center of the room. His eyes locked on his feet the way they often were when deep in thought. “There is someone who might be in possession of a copy or at least has the authority to access one.”

James and Christopher met eyes as they both came to the same solution at exactly the same moment. A smile curved on James’s lips and he chided himself for not thinking of it sooner before allowing disappointment to consume him.

“Are you going to leave us in suspense?” asked Matthew.

“Magnus,” said James. “We’re going to see Magnus.”

                                                             . . .

The girl who came through Cordelia’s bedroom door the next morning did not seem strong enough to carry the tray on which rested a cup of tea in a florid porcelain cup and a heavy jug of hot water for the washstand. She was hollow in the cheeks and narrow shouldered, her hair pulled back mercilessly into a single braid. Her dress and apron hung loosely, and her boots looked comically laced to such scrawny ankles.

She hummed to herself as she set the tray on the floor, transferred the jug to the washstand and brought the tea, her lips clamped in concentration to keep the cup from wobbling on its gilded saucer.

“Hello,” said Cordelia, her voice rough from lack of use. “Can you please tell me where I am?”

The girl looked up, her eyes expanded as the tea fell from her hands and shattered on the floor.

Cordelia gasped, as the girl let out a scream so loud, she nearly had to cover her ears. “SHE’S AWAKE! OH BY THE ANGEL, MISS CARSTAIRS IS AWAKE! COME SEE…”

Cordelia grimaced as she braced herself on her elbows and lifted herself up. Every muscle felt as if she’d went to bed sore and hadn’t used them again for several days. The light in the room seemed aged, as if it were late afternoon or early evening. She was used to the pale dawn hours, the birds’ thin choir accompanying her waking thoughts. Curiously, she did not feel guilty for sleeping so late into the morning. The room felt familiar to her. Not the emerald green wallpaper with gold etchings or the leather winged armchair, nor the desk with the stack of books resting closest to the window. A smell in the air reminded her of something. Wherever she was, she felt safe and glad to be there.

“CARSTAIRS IS AWAKE… HURRY! QUICK!” the girl’s voice carried down the other direction of the hall along with the shuffling sound of her absurd boots.

Cordelia shifted to swing her legs out from under the heavy covers when a sharp pain in her side stole her breath.

“Best to stay put,” said a familiar voice by the door. “Until one of the Brothers gets here.”

“Alastair,” cried Cordelia. “Finally, a familiar face. Where am I?”

“The London Institute,” said Alastair, as he stepped into the room in white pin striped pajamas. A wooden crutch tucked under his left armpit as he hobbled on a bandaged foot towards her. “Where we’ve been for the last week or so.”

“Alastair,” said Cordelia, looking at his leg. “What’s happened to your leg?”

“Broke it in three different places after being thrown through the air by that demon.” The bed dipped as he sat down beside her. “Don’t fret, sister, it’s nearly healed. The Brothers want me off it while the bones properly set. I should be good as new by next week. How are you feeling?”

“Sore.” She placed her hand on her rib cage and found an extra layer of padding beneath her nightgown. “Week? You’ve said we’ve been here for the last week?”

His dark eyebrows curved in concern as his eyes looked over her face. “Cordelia, what’s the last thing you remember?”

Cordelia thought about the last memory her mind could conjure. The picture looked muddy and weak in her mind. She’s a young girl running through a patch of daisies on a cliff’s edge, but that couldn’t be right. She’s a woman grown now. Another image of London through a carriage window as the moist air off the Thames hit her face. Ice cream dripping down her hand. Dancing under seductive lights with Cortana. James’s hands on her face as he kissed her on a desk. James kissing Grace. Saying goodbye to James.

“I left,” said Cordelia, closing her eyes to stop the memory. “We left, together. We were going to Alicante.”

“Yes,” said Alastair. “Do you remember what happened after? Do you remember the attack?”

“Attack?” asked Cordelia. “No, I don’t remember any attack. What happened?”

Alastair placed his on top of hers. “Maybe we should wait for Uncle to arrive.”

Cordelia gripped his hand in her own. “Alastair, what happened? What attack? Is everyone all right?”

He opened his mouth to answer when footsteps filled the hall and a chorus of people filtered in through the doorway. A sobbing Sona pushed ahead of everyone and enveloped Cordelia in a hug. Her mother felt weak, frail underneath Cordelia’s hands, she could feel the bones protruding from her shoulders and the bumps of her spine through the thick fabric of her dress. Her shoulder bone bumped Cordelia’s chin as she peered over it to see her Uncle Jem, dressed in his robes and quiet as a statue against the wall. In front of him stood Tessa Gray beside her husband Will. She watched the doorway, hoping and dreading, for James to walk through.

When he did not, she closed her eyes to stop the burn behind them and the pit that grew ever wider inside of her stomach.

“My darling, are you all right?” Sona asked, caressing Cordelia’s cheeks and hair. Cordelia noted the hollowness in her mother’s cheeks.

“I think so,” said Cordelia. “Alastair was just telling me about an attack?”

“You don’t remember?”

“No,” said Cordelia and looked to her Uncle. “I don’t remember anything past leaving the Institute with Alastair for Alicante.”

“It’s not uncommon for some memory loss to occur after the sort of head injuries she endured,” said a quiet voice inside of her mind, but everyone else seemed to hear it too as they all turned to Brother Zachariah. “With some rest and recollection of events, the memories may return to her.”

Sona sat on the bed beside Cordelia, their hands still joined. “You were attacked by a demon. It poisoned you with a barb in your rib cage. When Lucie and James found you, you were nearly dead from your injuries.”

Cordelia pressed her hand harder against her ribs until she felt the sharp pain of a recent injury under the pressure. “Why did it attack our carriage? Demons don’t normally just attack a random carriage.”

“We were hoping that you could tell us,” said Will across the room. “We’ve tried to locate it, but it left no other traces of itself except for the attack against you and your brother. No other sightings. No suspicious activity. Alastair can only recall up to the point of being thrown by the thing, but you were still conscious at that point. We thought maybe you killed it before succumbing to your injuries, but the lack of demon blood at the scene suggests otherwise.”

Cordelia closed her eyes and attempted to stumble through her memories again. She recalled arriving with Alastair to the Herondale manor. Alastair walking her to the door with an umbrella to shield her from the pouring rain. She was trembling at the thought of what she was about to do, of what she was about to lose. Alastair offered to go in with her, but she declined.

She couldn’t recall who answered the door or how she got up the stairs to the library where James often hid away from the world in the comfort of his father’s collection of books. She couldn’t recall knocking, but she remembered him answering the door and the orange glow of the firelight that matched the color of his eyes. She remembered the relief those eyes when it was she he opened the door to.

She could vaguely remember the words that were said, or when she left him, or finding herself back in the carriage with Alastair, but the look in his eyes when she said goodbye would remain with her forever.

“No.” She cleared her throat. “No, I’m sorry. The last thing that I remember is leaving here after saying goodbye to James.”

“It’s all right,” whispered Sona as she stroked Cordelia’s hair. “You’ve only just woken up. Perhaps after you’ve had something to eat and talked with Lucie, or James, something will return to you.”

The feeling of something she needed to do sparked at the mention of her old friend. She needed to talk to Lucie.

“Lucie stepped out for the morning,” said Tessa, eyeing Cordelia sympathetically, “but she’s due to return any moment. She’ll be overjoyed to know that you’re awake.”

“And James?” Sona asked.

“On patrol,” answered Will, with a gentle hand on his wife’s shoulder. “He won’t be back until this evening.”

Cordelia looked away, at her brother’s bandaged leg, at the tear in the hem of her nightgown, at the rune etched into the top of her bare foot, as the memories of her last conversation with James crashed into her.

“I wanted so badly to marry you,” she said. “But a year with you, as your wife, is not possibly long enough.”

The thought of speaking to James after their last conversation left a stone in Cordelia’s stomach, but perhaps it was for the best if she were to be staying in London while they both mended. If any one in the room knew of what transpired between James and Cordelia that last night, they weren’t letting on. Rubbing at the wound on her ribs, she searched the faces around her and found only concern and sympathy looking on at her. A wood pigeon, always the cello in the orchestra of birdsong, gave out its low double coo from the open window, like a beat from a large drum, which began to vibrate in her chest, and she thought it would have been very pleasant just to have remained asleep. 

(Author’s Notes: Hello again everyone! I’m back. I hope you all are doing well. It’s been truly a strange couple of weeks dealing with the aftermath of the death of my beautiful niece (God, that will never get easier to say or write), but we are mending as a family and working towards moving forward through the grief. I’ve been able to spend a lot of time with my sister and my nephew, just trying to keep them busy, but the past few weeks have settled down a little bit allowing me a chance to write and get back into a few projects that I have in the works. Thank you all for the kind words, and well-wishes, and your patience. I’m really excited to be back writing and posting again. I hope you enjoyed this installment. If you did please reblog so others can enjoy it too, please give it a like, hit me with a lovely comment, and follow along with me. Next installment is coming Sunday 9/6.)

[the-delta-42]

Ghosts from the Past

Ghosts from the Past

Beckett glared down at her station, pointedly ignoring the Captain, and the Captain vice-versa. She was vaguely aware of Boimler’s happy little hums as he worked and how Commander Ransom was glancing between both her and the Captain as if he was waiting for something to happen. At the moment, everything was peaceful.

That peace was broken when the ship was rocked to one side and an automatic red alert sounded. Beckett released her grip on her station, looking down to in put a new heading, she found that her hands were dirty, covered in dust and soot. The next thing she noticed was that her sleeves were rolled down and one was torn. She then noticed that it was her old uniform, black with a single red band around the wrist. Captain Jonas was demanding a damage report from Ops, while Commander Alias was checking the Ship’s structural integrity. Beckett vaguely heard that the USS Columbia had been destroyed and its hulk is what collided with the ship.

The ship rocked again, making her head connect with the console. Suddenly, Beckett was on the Cerritos, with Commander Ransom’s hand gripping her shoulder. She felt herself being hauled to her feet and moved towards the turbo-lift.

“I’m fine.” Slurred Beckett, not noticing the look that was exchanged between Captain Freeman and Commander Ransom.

Shaxs checked Mariner’s console.

“Appears to be a left over mine from the war.” Said Shaxs, before wiping the blood off the console.

“Damage?” Asked Freeman, looking over at Boimler.

“Minor damage to the underside of the saucer section, Captain.” Said Boimler, “I thought all the mines were dismantled after they surrendered.”

“Don’t trust Dominion,” Grunted Shaxs, going back to his console, “or Cardassians.”

A Cardassian lieutenant threw the Bajoran a filthy look.

The Captain sighed, “Renew our course, keep an eye out for anymore mines, Ensign.”

“Aye, Captain.” Said Boimler, before freezing and turning back to face her, “Captain, if you don’t mind me asking, what was Mariner talking about?”

“In regard to what?” Asked Freeman, sitting back in her chair, “If she was fine, then it was in reference to her concussion.”

“No, about The Columbia and The Serengeti.” Said Boimler, making Freeman and Shaxs stiffen.

“Just a couple of ships that were lost, nothing to major.” Dismissed the Captain, using her PADD send a notice for a meeting with the rest of the Senior staff.

A sudden moan echoed throughout the bridge, making everyone look at Ransom’s seat.

“Hm, doesn’t even sound like him.” Grunted Shaxs.

GOTP

Mariner tried not to groan when the light from the tricorder scanned over her eyes. Doctor T’Ana growled as the Ensign winced.

“Stop doing that, if you keep it up, I won’t be able to get a proper scan because you’re not staying still.” Growled T’Ana, while Tendi fluttered around the sick bay, checking up on the other patients.

“Doc, I’m fine.” Whined Mariner, trying to get off the bio bed.

“You have a concussion and your skull is fractured, now hold still.” Snapped T’Ana, placing a hand on Mariner’s shoulder and forcing her down into the bed, “Tendi, hold her still.”

The Orion moved to stand by Mariner’s head, glancing apologetically at her friend, Tendi placed her hands either side of Beckett’s head and held her still as T’Ana went over the head wound with a dermal regenerator. Beckett blinked and she was suddenly on the USS Argentina, with Dr. Solek scanning her.

Tendi removed her hands, inadvertently jerking Mariner back to the present.

“Okay, you need to be on light duty for the next couple of days,” Said T’Ana, “bother Nurse Westlake if you have any other pains.”

Beckett sat up, non-verbally acknowledging the Chief Medical Officer. Commander Ransom had left as soon as he had handed Mariner to the medical staff. T’Ana picked up a PADD and frowned, before quietly telling her staff that she was needed elsewhere, and that Nurse Westlake was in charge.

Beckett took a deep breath and stood up, waiting for another tremor to shake the ship. When nothing happened, she took another step and within moments she was walking the corridors of the Cerritos, casually undoing the top of her uniform as she approached her bunk. After hauling herself up onto the bunk, she lied on her side and pried a panel off the wall, carefully manoeuvring a PADD and a book out of the hole.

The PADD had a series of letters on it, all from the same person, with the most recent ones unread. Beckett glanced at the PADD, before opening the book. The first thing she saw was Lieutenant Commander Hur, along with Ensign Smythe, she flicked through the book, finding pictures of other Starfleet officers and crew members, until she came across a picture of her with another girl next to her. Both Beckett and the other girl had many visual similarities, same eyes, same face structure, same grin, Beckett glanced down at the caption underneath the picture.

Ensign Sarah Mariner & Lieutenant Beckett Mariner

Beckett’s throat started to tighten up, as tears started to burn her eyes. She took a shuddery breath, as she attempted to stem the flow of tear falling into her bunk. Beckett curled into a ball, subtly rocking herself.

GOTP

“Computer, display Starfleet Service record, Mariner, Beckett.” Said Captain Freeman, as she and her senior staff were gathered in the conference room. Boimler quietly stood in the corner, having entered just before the senior staff to clean the surfaces, only for the Captain to deadlock the doors and soundproof the room.

Mariner’s record appeared on the screen, listing five ships, each a different class and her various merits and demerits, along with a note for her demotion to Ensign.

“Display Postings during 2373 to 2375.” Said the Captain, as a section of Mariner’s record highlighted and was enlarged, “Read out the text.”

“Posting; USS Argentina, Akira Class Heavy Escort. Commanding Officer; Marcus Jonas, Captain. Executive Officer; Maria Alias, Commander. Science Officer; Maria Alias, Commander. Chief Medical Officer; Solek, Commander. Chief Engineer; Hur, Lieutenant Commander. Chief of Security; Beckett Mariner, Lieutenant. Operations Officer; Sarah Beckett, Ensign. Tactical Officer; Beckett Mariner, Lieutenant.” Said the Computer, as the commanders frowned.

“Computer,” Said Captain Freeman, her voice strained, “Display and read the current postings of the Senior Staff of the USS Argentina.”

“Marcus Jonas, Captain, current posting; Rear Admiral, Deep Space 11.  Maria Alias, Commander, current posting; KIA. Solek, Commander, current posting; KIA. Hur, Lieutenant Commander, current posting; KIA. Beckett Mariner, Lieutenant, current posting; Ensign, USS Cerritos. Sarah Mariner, Ensign, current posting; KIA.”

“Computer, was the USS Argentina, involved in any major conflicts.” Questioned Commander Ransom, leaning forwards.

“USS Argentina served in the Dominion War, served with distinction and was named the Flagship of the Seventh Fleet.”

The temperature in the room dropped, Boimler’s grip on the tools he was carrying loosening slightly.

“Computer, how and when did the Officers on the USS Argentina die.” Questioned Billups, while the Captain looked as if she wanted to be sick.

“Maria Alias, Deceased, Cause of Death; Console overloading in close proximity, Conflict; Battle of Tyra. Solek, Deceased, Cause of Death; Sudden decompression of deck 14, Conflict; Battle of Tyra. Hur, Deceased, Cause of Death; Dilithium chamber decompressing in close proximity, Conflict; Battle of Tyra. Sarah Mariner, Deceased, Cause of Death; Hull breach on Deck 1, Conflict; Battle of Tyra.”

“Computer, are there any notes attached to the USS Argentina?” Asked Dr. T’Ana, her claws releasing the arms of her chair.

“Lieutenant Beckett Mariner is demoted to Ensign after physically assaulting a senior officer.” Said the Computer, just as Boimler’s tools fell out of his hand.

Everyone jumped and looked at Boimler.

“Brimler?!” Yelled Shaxs, “What are you doing in here?!”

“I, er, well, um-” As the Bajoran stomped towards him, “I came in here to clean, but then you all came in and locked the door, so I was stuck and couldn’t get out.”

“Ensign, you know Mariner fairly well, don’t you?” Said the Captain, still looking at the screen.

“N-not particularly, we work together sometimes.” Said Boimler, making the Captain pinch the bridge of her nose.

“Ensign, cut the bullshit.” Said Freeman, spinning her chair to face Boimler, “The two of you are practically joined at the hip, if one of you goes somewhere, the other is not far behind.”

Boimler swallowed, as the Captain leaned forwards, “Has Mariner made any remarks about the Dominion War, either directly or in-directly?”

“W-well she has said she’s seen things.” Said Boimler, getting a groan from Freeman.

“Anything specific?” Questioned the Captain, barely containing her exasperation.

Boimler shook his head.

“Computer, unlock doors, remove sound proofing.” Said the Captain, making the computer beep twice, “Dismissed.”

Everyone got up to leave, except the Captain, who remained in her seat. Boimler quickly gathered his equipment and rushed out of the conference room.

Carol remained in her seat, only moving when she heard the doors close after the ensign left. She let out a heavy sigh, The Cerritos hadn’t seen action during the Dominion War, being deemed inefficient during battle scenarios and ‘not important enough’ to be put on active duty. She’d heard from Ian that the Quito had been placed on Medical duty, only going in after the battles were won. She had mistakenly assumed that Beckett had been with them.

Carol had friends that had either been killed or had someone that had been killed, it broke her heart when two Officers arrived to inform her of Sarah’s death, but now knowing that she’d almost lost both nearly broke her.

“Computer, hail Admiral Ian Mariner on my private channel.” Said Captain Freeman, she wanted to know if Ian knew about Beckett’s service.

GOTP

The ship suddenly shook at it dropped out of warp, the jovial mood drying instantly as the ship shook again.

“Shield’s up, Red Alert!” Barked Captain Jonas, as the MDS shorted out.

“Shield’s up, Captain,” Said Beckett, as the ship shook again, “initial scans complete, reading 248 Dominion and Cardassian Vessels.”

“Damn.” Swore Jonas, turning back to the view screen, “Helm, evasive pattern Alpha-4.”

“Aye, Captain.” Said Sarah, turning to the Helm controls.

The ship suddenly shook with a greater magnitude, making Beckett’s head slam against her console. Captain Jonas demanded a damage report from Ops, while Commander Alias was checking the Ship’s structural integrity. Beckett vaguely heard that the USS Columbia had been destroyed and its hulk is what collided with the ship.

“Mariner, get your sister down to sickbay.” Ordered Jonas, as Sarah got up.

“No,” Slurred Beckett, trying to keep herself standing, “I’m fine.”

“Bullshit.” Said Sarah, putting one of Beckett’s arms around her shoulders.

“Deck 14.” Said Sarah, as soon as she and Beckett were in the turbo-lift.

Beckett blinked in and out of consciousness, waking up to Dr. Solek running a dermal regenerator over her head wound.

“I don’t suppose you’ve got anything for the headache, doc.” Groaned Mariner, vaguely aware of Sarah and Mike arguing.

Solek pressed a hypo spray against her neck, “That should deal with the pain for now, Lieutenant.”

“A head wound like that; she should remain here.” Said Mike, while Sarah shook her head.

“We’re out numbered at least 2-to-1, Beckett’s needed on the bridge.” Argued Sarah, as Beckett, hobbled over to them.

Mike opened his mouth, only for Beckett to put her hand on his arm.

“Babe,” whispered Beckett, getting Mike to look at her, “I’ll be okay.”

Mike sighed, and quietly acquiesced. Beckett gave him a quick peck on the lips, before leaving sickbay with her sister, both stumbling at the ship shook.

“Bridge.” Said Beckett, as soon as she entered the turbo lift.

The two arrived on the bridge to Commander Alias spraying something with a fire extinguisher. Both Mariner’s took their stations, Beckett immediately firing a salvo of torpedoes at a Keldon class warship.

There was a sudden explosion from the science station, sending Commander Alias flying. The woman landed, with her neck hitting the Captain’s chair with a crack.

“Bridge to Engineering.” Said Jonas, immediately checking on his First Officer.

“Engineering here.” Came a distinctly non-Tellarite voice. It belonged to a human cadet, Sam something.

“Where’s Chief Hur?” Demanded Jonas, as another console exploded.

“He’s dead, sir, Dilithium explosion in the face.” Said the Engineer.

Jonas groaned, before tapping his combadge, “Bridge to Sickbay.”

There was silence, until the ship shook again.

“Ops, what’s the current status of Sickbay?” Said Jonas, as Beckett fired at a Dominion attack ship.

“The Glenn, Cicada and Sebrova are gone, Sir.” Reported Beckett, as Sarah checked one of her consoles.

“Sir, deck 14…just decompressed.” Reported Sarah, making Beckett freeze.

“What?” The young woman asked, weakly.

“I’m sorry Be-” Sarah was cut off when the bulkheads in front of her suddenly went, sucking her out into the vacuum of space.

An emergency forcefield suddenly burst into life. Beckett stared at the space Sarah had been occupying moments before.

Beckett was suddenly shaken out of her trance when the Captain put his hand on her shoulder.

“Lieutenant!” Barked Jonas, “We can mourn later, but right now, we have no time for emotion!”

Beckett nodded minutely, before looking at her console, “Sir, the Star Ships Discovery, Sulu, Sutherland, Totem, Destiny, Sentinel, Vancouver, Macedonia and Churchill have all just dropped out of Warp.”

“How many of ours can get out?” Said Jonas, going to the helm.

“Six or Seven, sir.” Said Beckett, as the Captain took the helm.

“This is the Argentina to the Fleet, fall back, head toward Federation space at best possible speed.” Ordered Jonas, as the USS Argentina started to turn around.

“The fleet are acknowledging, Captain.” Reported Beckett, before two explosions caught her attention, “Sir, USS Cardiff and USS London have just been destroyed.”

“Well, 14 is better than nothing.” Grumbled Jonas, as the ship went to warp, arriving at Starbase 615 after a few hours.

Jonas looked out the hole in the bridge, “Wonderful, we’ve warped in just in time for Captain Picard and Admiral Paris to see our sorry asses.”

Beckett didn’t say anything from her place on the floor next to her console.

Beckett was shaken away by a worried looking Tendi. Beckett saw a whole crowd of ensigns gathering around them.

“What?” Snapped Mariner, glaring at everyone.

“Mariner,” Said Tendi, cautiously, “you were screaming.”

Beckett was glad it was dark, so no one could see how red her face was.

“It was nothing, go back to sleep.” Said Mariner, rolling over so she was facing the wall. Mariner heard the crowd slowly disperse. She waited another few minutes before rolling over and carefully swinging her legs down and quietly creeping down the hall, unaware the Boimler was following her.

Beckett quietly slipped into Sickbay, thankfully finding it empty. She immediately started rummaging around the draws of medication. Finding the desired vial, Beckett grabbed a hypospray. She looked down at the draw, before grabbing a handful of vials and slamming the draw shut. Shoving the vials in her pocket, Beckett left Sickbay, unknowingly being seen by Boimler and Dr. T’Ana.

T'Ana stood still for a moment, before she tapped her combadge.

“T’Ana to Commander Ransom.”

GOTP

“I had my suspicions.” Said Ian, as Carol sat pinching the bridge of her nose, “She returned to the Quito a changed person, I just assumed that she was on clean up duty.”

“You mean like the Quito was?” Asked Carol, looking at her husband.

“Yes.” Responded Ian, “But to actually hear she was on one of the fourteen, it’s horrifying.”

“Her record states that she was serving alongside Sarah, specifically during the same battle that Sarah was lost in.” Carol leaned further into her chair, trying to gage Ian’s expression, “I’m surprised that, given her service record, she was demoted for assaulting a Senior Officer.”

“I’m not,” Said Ian, darkly, “It was Nechayev.”

“Oh, her.” Groaned Carol, her face going into her hands, “How did she get to Fleet Admiral, everyone who’s worked with her or known of her hates her.”

“I was surprised that Beckett lasted till last year, before knocking her teeth out.” Said Ian, smiling, “Something similar happened with you, if I remember correctly.”

“That was an Orion and it was an away mission.” Giggled Carol, before her combadge beeped.

“Ransom to Freeman.”

“Freeman here.” Said Carol, frowning.

“Dr. T’Ana just saw Mariner in sickbay,” Said Ransom, “Apparently, she took a handful of diphenylmethane vials from one of the draws and a hypospray.”

Carol sat in her chair silently, before leaning forwards, “Who else knows?”

“T’Ana and I have already alerted Shaxs to the situation.” Responded Ransom.

“Have Shaxs take Mariner to one of the guest quarters, the sooner the better.” Said Carol, standing up, “Have a security team check her bunk and get me a list of all the Officers that have experience with counselling.”

“Aye, Captain.” Said Ransom, before cutting the connection.

“The Quito will be joining you shortly,” Said Ian, getting up from his chair, “I’m going to try and get Admiral Jonas to join us, if Beckett went under the radar, I want to see his entire crew manifest for the entire Dominion War.”

“I guess I’ll be seeing you shortly.” Said Carol, before the connection cut off. She sighed and leaned forward, resting her forehead against her knuckles.

T’Ana had told her that drugs were going missing from sickbay for the past few months, sometimes it was pain killers, other times it was anti-depressants and sometimes, like now, it was sedatives. Carol really hoped that Starfleet Command would take her suggestion of Security cameras seriously, although she doubted that they would.

GOTP

Beckett carefully stashed the vials in the wall, before taking the hypo spray and pressing it against her arm. Before she could inject herself, the hypospray was snatched from her hand and she was yanked off her bunk. Mariner yelped, waking the surrounding ensigns, creating the sight of her dangling from her wrist, which was being held in a vice grip by Shaxs.

“I don’t suppose you could give that back and we can just forget anything happened?” Asked Mariner, hopefully.

Shaxs just shoved her into Ransom and a couple of security officers.

“Really?” Squawked Mariner, as Security grabbed her upper arms and practically carried her away from her bunk. The group passed Boimler in the corridor, before they carried her into a turbo lift.

Tendi and Rutherford shook sleep from their eyes, as Shaxs and a security officer started searching Mariner’s bunk.

“Wha? What’s happening?” Slurred Rutherford, before he accidentally rolled off his bunk.

“Mariner’s been arrested.” Said Tendi, as the female Trill started tapping the wall panels next to Mariner’s bunk, with one of them making a hollow sound, before prying the panel off the wall.

“Wow.” Said the Trill, before looking down at Shaxs, “You gotta see this.”

The Trill then started to pull different things from the wall.

“Legal, legal, legal, illegal, illegal, how the hell did she get one of these?!” Exclaimed the Trill, pulling a Mek’Leth that had what looked like dried blood on it, out of the wall.

Shaxs grunted, before picking up a bottle of blue liquid, pulling out the cork and smelling it.

“Romulan Ale.” Said Shaxs, before smelling it again, “A good brand as well.”

“The Doctor can sleep easy now, seeing that none of the drugs were actually used.” Said the Trill, before she started tugging on something, letting out small grunts as she pulled. She pushed the object down, rotated it and pulled it out.

“A book?!” Said the Trill, before she started flicking through it, “A picture book?”

A PADD fell out of the book, turning on as it hit the floor.

“Ah, crap.” Said the Trill, jumping down to pick it up, her thumb accidentally hitting play on a video that was on the screen.

“-and here we have Lieutenant Mariner and her wonderful fiancée Lieutenant Richards, enjoying a wonderful lunch together as we travel through the stars.”

The voice was similar sounding to Beckett’s, with the exception that it had an almost giggly quality to it.

“Sarah, what did we say about you recording on that?” Everyone recognised Beckett’s voice, even if it sounded slightly different, “I can’t keep telling the Captain that the PADD’s are faulty because you recorded over a briefing.”

“That was one time.”

“Every couple of weeks.” The new voice was male, after it let out a bark-like laugh.

“So, any feelings about the next assignment?” It was clear from her tone that Sarah was changing the subject.

“Oh, it’s going to go down in history.” Said past Beckett, “One that’s going to be celebrated and honoured for years to come.”

“I can see it now,” Said the male voice, “Gran! Gran! Tell us about the day we got our planets back!”

“Well, joking aside,” Came Beckett’s voice, laughter still clear in her tone, “I’m sure that the Seventh Fleet and our victory at Tyra will be what everyone’s needed since this war started.”

The Trill finally managed to hit pause, looking as if she was about to throw up. Shaxs glanced around, spotting the ensigns staring at them.

“Everyone, go to bed!” Snapped Shaxs, before gathering everything up and charging down the corridor. The book was left on Mariner’s bunk, before Tendi gingerly picked it up.

“Should we tell them they left this behind?” Asked Tendi, quietly.

“Let’s just leave it on the bunk for now.” Said Rutherford, rolling back over, opting to ignore the world around him.

GOTP

Mariner was deposited onto a chair in one of the guest quarters of the ship, a quick glance around told her that anything that could’ve been used as a weapon had been removed. Mariner scowled, as Ransom left the room with the Security officers, locking the door behind him. She folded her arms and waited for the Captain to make an appearance and bitch about how she was dragging the family name through the mud.

Ransom arrived on the bridge, carrying a PADD with the list of all Officers that had counselling experience.

“Mariner’s in Guest Quarters Gamma, the rooms been deadlocked and made child proof, anything that could be used to harm anyone has either been bolted down or removed.” Said Ransom, handing the PADD over to Captain Freeman, “The Doctor said the drugs will most likely leave her system in the next few hours.”

Freeman nodded, her eyes scanning each name and the associated rank that followed it.

“Commander, five of these Officers have left the ship.” Said Freeman, crossing off the names in her mind.

Ransom shifted, glancing to his feet in embarrassment. Shaxs walked onto the bridge, clutching the PADD that was found in Mariner’s bunk, “I think you’re going to want to see this, Captain.”

Freeman took the PADD and glanced over its files, noting the unread letters and the video that was paused mid-sentence.

“I’ll be in my ready room.” Said Freeman, walking off the Bridge, “Mr. Ransom, you have the Conn.”

Down in Sickbay, Dr. T’Ana, Nurse Westlake and Tendi were sorting through the vials. Most had been mixed together, which left them in a dangerous state, fortunately the diphenylmethane was practically untouched, with the exception on the one in the hypospray.

“She had enough to knock out a Terran Equine,” Growled T’Ana, going through the vials, “it’s as if she built up an immunity to it.”

“Well, it’s been five years since the war ended,” Said Westlake, “There could be a chance that she was doing thing before she was on the Cerritos, perhaps even before the war ended.”

“She was screaming in her sleep,” Said Tendi, getting a look from T’Ana and Westlake, “it happened just before she was arrested.”

“It could also be that she’s forgotten the war ended,” Said T’Ana, going through the vials, “I looked into her service history, there was a period where she’d been captured with a couple of Klingons.”

“That would explain why she’s made suicide combinations.” Said Westlake, before handing the vials over to T’Ana, “A couple of those would kill someone fairly quickly, the others appear to go for the slow approach.”

T’Ana shoved the vials into a machine to work on separating the liquids, before freezing.

“We’re missing one.” Said T’Ana, suddenly making Westlake and Tendi freeze, “Computer, monitor Ensign Beckett Mariner’s life signs, report if there is any change.”

The computer beeped.

“We need to check her bunk again.” Said T’Ana, stalking out of sickbay.

GOTP

Beckett scratched at her arm, hissing slightly as she drew blood, she felt the craving for the hypospray that Shaxs took from her. She needed the hypospray. Any hypospray. Beckett froze, swearing that she could hear Jem’Hadar marching down the corridors. They’d taken the ship, and most likely killed the majority of the crew.

She’d been deemed a target of high importance by them in the past, she didn’t know why, she just knew she needed to get out and she needed to get out now. Beckett quickly started to rush around the room, checking each wall and piece of furniture for a way out of the room. She could wear she could smell the burnt flesh that came with their energy weapons, the sound of their polearms cutting through the officers that lined the corridors.

She heard Captain Jonas yell, before going silent. Beckett frantically scrambled around the room, before readjusting herself and feeling the weight of a hypospray in her pocket. It was one of the slow ones, but she didn’t have time to go and find one of the fast-acting ones. Beckett placed the hypospray on her arm and injected herself with it. The screaming had stopped, and everything was going quiet. Beckett curled into a ball, as a searing pain flared to life in her chest.

The doors suddenly sprung open, Dr. T’Ana and Nurse Westlake rushing into the room.

“We need to get her to sickbay, stat!” Came T’Ana’s muffled voice, before someone gathered Mariner up in their arms and started sprinting down the corridor. Mariner was not embarrassed to say that her final thoughts were on how firm the sprinters chest was.

T’Ana rushed after Ransom, while Westlake grabbed the hypospray off the floor and checking the contents, noticing a small amount of the liquid pooling at the bottom.

Tendi jumped as Commander Ransom rushed into Sickbay, closely followed by Dr. T’Ana and Nurse Westlake bringing up the rear, holding a half used hypospray. Tendi’s heart stopped when she saw a shaking Mariner, who’d started to foam at the mouth. Ransom deposited Mariner on a bio-bed, just as T’Ana ordered Tendi to restrain Mariner.

Tendi did the best she could to restrain her friend, silently hoping that everything was just a really bad dream. Tendi didn’t even realise she was crying, until another nurse relieved her. Nurse Westlake finished identifying the components of Mariner’s self-made poison. Quickly throwing an antidote together, T’Ana took the hypospray from Westlake and all but jammed the instrument into Mariner’s neck and injecting the serum into her bloodstream.

Beckett stopped seizing almost instantly, allowing for the Medical staff to place her on her side. Tendi absently recognised it as the recovery position, given the number of times she had to perform the same practice on fellow cadets who’d drunk so much they passed out.

“Right, now that’s been dealt with,” Said Dr. T’Ana, rounding on the security officers, “did none of you think to check her pockets when you put her in there?!”

There were some guilty murmers, before Sickbay’s doors shot open, admitting Captain Freeman and two Starfleet Admirals. The dark-skinned Admiral ignored the sudden salutes from the command crew and stepped closer to the bio-bed.

“How is she?” Asked the Admiral, looking down at Beckett’s prone form.

“If we’d been any later, she would be under and sheet.” Said Dr. T’Ana, quietly noting that Captain Freeman seemed to be retraining herself.

“Have her family been informed?” Asked Commander Ransom, looking at T’Ana.

“They already know.” Said Captain Freeman, stepping up to stand beside the Admiral.

“Great, are we going to tell them that she didn’t die or…” Ransom trailed off, waiting for the Captain to speak.

“They already knew.” Said the Admiral, as Boimler and Rutherford entered sickbay, after getting a message from Tendi.

“How?” Asked T’Ana, looking between the Captain and the Admiral.

The Captain looked around, “What is said does not leave those bulkheads.”

After getting a nod from the rest of the crew, Freeman continued, “Ensign Mariner is my daughter.”

There was a collection of noises from the assembled crew, Shaxs, the security officers, Tendi and Westlake gasped. T’Ana yelled “I knew it!”. Ransom gulped and Boimler whined. Rutherford just blinked, before stepping closer to Beckett.

“Is she going to be alright?” Asked Rutherford, getting looks from the other crew.

“How are you not surprised?!” Demanded Tendi, scowling at Rutherford.

“When it comes to Mariner, nothing surprises me anymore.” Said Rutherford, before looking down at Beckett.

The other Admiral, who’d remained silent, looked at Rutherford closely, “Cadet Rutherford?”

“Ah, well, Ensign, but who’s keeping track, er, sir.” Stuttered Rutherford, getting a curious look from the others.

“Figures.” Muttered the Admiral, “He was a Cadet on the Argentina during the war, he was also one of the fifty survivors from Tyra.”

“Wait, you were there too?!” Exclaimed Boimler, getting everyone to look at him, “How many of my friend have been in a war? Tendi?!”

“I was fresh out of the Academy last year!” Protested Tendi, before Mariner groaned.

Beckett braced herself as she slowly started to sit up, only to gag and vomit on the other Admirals shoes.

“Nice to see you as well.” Groused the Admiral, getting Beckett to look up at him.

“Captain?” Asked Beckett, lightheaded, “I think that mine hit us harder than we thought, Chief Hur should take a look.”

Everyone froze, realising that Mariner thought she was on the Argentina.

“No need.” Said Jonas, looking down at Mariner.

“Okay, do you know where Dr. Solek is? I have a massive headache.” Groaned Mariner, clutching her head, “If Solek’s not available then I’ll take Mike or he’ll take me, whatever.”

“You might want to sit down.” Said Jonas, as Mariner started to stand up.

“Can’t.” Strained Mariner, “Got a tactical review to complete and a call to make.”

“The War’s over.” Said Jonas, getting an alarmed look from Beckett, “The Dominion Surrendered.”

“Great,” Moaned Beckett, “The war ended and everyone saw it except me.”

“It ended in 2375.” Said Jonas, “What year do you think it is and when?”

“2373, we’re supposed to be heading to Tyra,” Said Mariner, “They have a small fleet of ships, so retaking it should be easy.”

“The Dominion had 248 ships there,” Said Jonas, as Beckett’s eyes widened, “It was a massacre, almost the entire crew was killed.”

Beckett suddenly seemed to regain her bearings, before gagging and throwing up again.

“Oh fuck.” Groaned Mariner, “Has anyone got anything for me to wash this taste from my mouth?”

Tendi hurried off and returned with some water.

“I meant something stronger, but whatever.” Said Beckett, hopping to her feet and staggering slightly. She collided with Commander Ransom and immediately felt his chest, “Why is a brick wall in sickbay?”

“I’m not a wall ensign.” Said Ransom, making Mariner jump.

“Oh, it’s you.” Sighed Mariner, before looking around and spotting the Captain and the Admiral, “Captain! I didn’t pass out on the bridge, did I?”

“You can stop the whole ‘I don’t know who you are beyond rank’ shtick.” Said T’Ana, smirking at Mariner, “You’re mother already told us.”

“Oh.” Said Mariner, before looking over at her mother again and spotting the Admiral and paling, “Fuck.”

“Language.” Scolded the Admiral, folding his arms.

“Whatever happened, I didn’t do it!” Said Mariner, as soon as the Admiral stopped talking.

“So, you didn’t steal drugs from sickbay?” Asked Jonas, silently daring Mariner to deny it.

“Nooo…” Beckett trailed off, sounding unsure.

“Try again.” Said Jonas, his frown deepening.

“…yes.” Beckett’s voice had become small. Jonas sighed and stood to his full height.

“I honestly thought that had stopped when the war ended,” Said Jonas, his arms going behind his back, “Did you ignore the counsellor’s advice?”

Beckett stared at his blankly, “What counsellor?”

“What couns-You mean to say that in the five years that you’ve been serving, you never once got recommended to a counsellor?” Said Jonas, staring at her, “Didn’t anything show up during your physicals or at least your mental check-ups?”

“No,” Said Mariner, “I haven’t had a physical or mental check-up since Solek.”

T’Ana suddenly appeared behind Mariner, who suddenly realised what she just said and found herself being scanned. Mariner glared at Jonas, who smirked in return.

“Alright, everyone who isn’t medical staff, get out!” Snapped T’Ana, before collaring Mariner, “Not you, you have an overdue physical.”

Mariner silently pleaded for help, and was subsequently ignored.

GOTP

Despite what the Captain said, the news that Beckett was her daughter spread through the ship like wildfire.

“If they’re related, why is Mariner an ensign?”

“Did she really throw up on an Admiral’s shoes?”

“Why do you think she’s been so busy?”

Of course, all the chatter died down whenever Mariner actually appeared, given how she reacted when someone from Gamma shift tried to get a promotion by trying to convince her to talk to the Captain. He wound up in sickbay with a fork shoved into his hand and a glass decorating his head.

Not to mention the incident when the Captain walked into the bar and found Mariner mixing a concoction of drinks together, while sitting on a pile of unconscious ensigns. Beckett had given a vague explanation that translated to “They thought they could get a promotion by talking to me and got violent when they found they couldn’t.”

Mariner eventually staggered into the bar after going a few rounds with Shaxs.

“Reminded me to never smack talk Shaxs again.” Groaned Mariner, slumping over next to her friends, “I’d rather fight Jem’Hadar.”

Things were slowly getting back to its own version of normal.

Then Admiral Jonas turned up.

[whittakerjodie]

Can I Cut In? ( 13th Doctor X Reader )

prompt: “Heyo! I hope you're having a good day! I was wondering if I could request a jealous thirteen? Maybe an alien flirting with her while the fam is on a mission. Thanks!” Requested by @oster-hagen​

A/N: A Lot of these types of requests tend to make the flirt-er a jerk/predator figure, so I figured I'd give us a break and give us a nice, swell flirt-er that we all deserve. Much love, thanks for the request!!! this is probably my favorite thing I’ve written thus far

Words: 2k :O

Warings: none. Reader isn’t gendered but is said to be wearing a dress. 

   Your muscles ached in protest as you tried to get the elaborate outfit on. Usually, you liked dressing up in whatever the TARDIS wardrobe could conjure up for you, but your most recent adventure left you more than worn out. Despite your current urge to throw yourself onto the nearest soft surface and sleep for however long your body would allow, you had places to be. A party was being thrown by the village you and the fam had saved as a way to thank all of you. It'd be rude not to attend. 

   Your eyes scanned your body in the mirror. You hadn't seen any materials or patterns similar to the ones you currently wore, so you gave yourself a long minute to admire them. The door to the wardrobe opened and you turned to see the Doctor standing there, taking in your appearance. You felt yourself shrink under her gaze, even if it was soft and appreciative. 

"Um... Your turn?" You asked, lifting your arms to show off more of the fabric.  

"Not quite" The Doctor replied, hurriedly turning to a different section of the room. "Suits are more to my liking." 

   You watched her busy herself with trying to find a suitable outfit, throwing clothes across the room left and right. You caught some in your hands but let others fall to the floor, unsure of if you should wait for her or not. You blushed at the thought of watching her get dressed and opted to let her have her privacy. You didn't know what to think of the eyes that you felt on your back as you walked out. 

"Wow... just.. Wow" Nora, one of the villagers that had been a big help to you and the fam, gawked at you. "I've always had a bias for my village’s fabrics but seeing them on someone such as yourself..." 

You felt the blood rush to your face and avoided the fam's quizzical looks. You and Nora had been paired together for this adventure, and she'd been nothing but nice (borderline flirtatious) all day. It was fun, and it felt nice to be appreciated that way. Nora held out her hand and you stared at it, not wanting to be rude. You placed your hand in hers and she smiled, leading you forward. 

"Is anyone else thinking what I'm thinking?" Yaz asked, watching the two of you walk off towards the party. 

"I really don't think the Doctors going to like this," Ryan said. 

+++

   You sipped from the drink Nora had gotten for you. The warmth of it contrasted with the cool night air, making you shiver. 

"Are you cold?" She asked from beside you. She sat close to you, on a bench you'd found near a nice flower bed. You nodded and she unwrapped her shawl, draping it over your shaking shoulders. You sighed happily at the shield from the cold, thanking her. 

   Some ways away, on the trail you'd taken to get to the flowers, the Doctor was making her way towards the party. She watched Nora carefully give you her shawl, leaving her arm to rest over your shoulders. She stopped mid-step, feeling jealousy well up in the pit of her stomach. She'd noticed you and her joking around earlier, but she'd assumed it was more of a Jack Harkness situation, not something serious. She could hear footfall behind her and turned to see the fam making their way down the same trail. 

“Headed to the party, doc?” Graham asked. She gave a curt nod and turned sharply, stomping away. Ryan hit Graham on the shoulder and pointed towards you and Nora. You laughed loudly; every five seconds Nora seemed to have a new joke to tell you. It was a miracle that you were able to understand them at all, considering the entirely different lives you lead. 

   You didn’t know how long it’d been since you had a conversation like this. Most of your time was spent with the Fam running away from monsters or having short catch-up conversations that ended as quickly as they began. It was comforting to sit down and truly converse with someone. There was a song change in the distance, and Nora smiled brightly, pulling you onto your feet. 

“Come,” She said eagerly. “I want to get at least one dance in before you go.” 

+++++

   The party was at its height by the time the two of you arrived. Nora had repeatedly stopped along the way to pick a flower alongside the road. She’d gathered quite the collection, and they all currently rested somewhere in your hair. Your eyes scanned the room, looking for your fellow travelers. At a table overflowing with food, you could spot what you believed to be the Doctors blonde bob. You examined her suit; it was a three-piece but styled with a long jacket similar to the one she always wore. Its surface was covered in the same geometric pattern that everyone else wore, but it seemed to shine differently on her. 

“So.. about that dance?” Nora held out both of her hands as an invitation. You glanced at the Doctor again for just a moment before accepting her offer and letting her lead you onto the dance floor. 

“I don’t know how to do the dances they're doing,” You confessed, talking about her peers. They were all dancing beside you in a way similar to slow dance, but their steps and sways matched to the beat differently. 

“Then don’t do them. Show me how you dance on your planet” You blushed at her low tone and the idea of setting your hands on her waist. A pretty girl was a pretty girl, and dancing with a pretty girl was always a nervous (albeit wonderful) affair. You tried your best to push past your nervousness and showed her the basics. She put her hands on your waist and let you take the lead. 

   The Doctor turned as soon as she felt your eyes leave her and watched the two of you sway. She fought the urge to spring forward and take Nora's place, leading you in the dance instead. At least you looked like you were having fun, she thought. Or maybe that made it worse. She scowled and tried to focus on something else, each time failing and remaining glued to the two of you. 

   She’d thought she’d been making progress in showing more affection towards you. She’d given you an intricately beaded bracelet from a star system that reminded her of you. She’d given multiple compliments ranging from your laugh and hair to anything and everything about you. Maybe she’d messed up and made you uncomfortable? But the Doctor failed to identify anything that she could’ve done wrong. She also couldn’t wrap her head around what made Nora so much better than her. 

   You’d managed to match your swaying to the beat, despite its otherworldly origin. You were smiling at each other in a way that, in any other circumstances, would be heartwarming. But the Doctor was getting more and more restless by the moment, fidgeting where she stood. As the song continued the jealous fire within her swelled and swelled until she could feel it burning through any control she had. 

   Suddenly, she swiftly moved forward, reaching you in record time. The two of you jumped at the sudden intrusion, your hands falling from Nora’s shoulders. 

“Doctor?” 

She nervously shifted, as all the planned words and actions had suddenly scrambled out of her mind. 

“Uh..” She turned to Nora. “Nora! You’re brilliant, good job today. But I really, really need to cut in. Could I? Cut in, I mean” 

   You felt your cheeks heat up and disappointment briefly passed across Nora's features. She glanced between the two of you and you moved to apologize but a light flickered behind her eyes, ignited by a sudden understanding. She nodded and stepped aside, quickly swept up by another party-goer. You wiped your sweaty palms against your dress hoping the Doctor wouldn’t notice just how nervous you were.

“I’m guessing you know how to slow dance the way we do?” You asked, voice cracking a little. The Doctor nodded and placed her hands on your waist. You jumped slightly at the warmth, your hands landing haphazardly on her shoulders. Slowly you two started to sway, getting back into the groove of the song. 

“I never got to tell you how much I love the dress.” The Doctor said gently.

‘And I never got to tell you how much I loved the suit” She seemed to relax more, relieved. You giggled. 

“Doctor, why did you cut in like that?” 

She tensed again, looking off to the side sheepishly. You trembled on the edge of making what you believed to be a bold assumption. 

“Was it Nora?” As you said the other alien's name, your eyes locked. Her grip tightened on your waist a little. “Doctor, it's okay if it was.” 

“It was” She admitted quietly. “Do you like her?” 

   You took in her uneasy expression. You didn’t need to consider the question much; Nora was wonderful and treated you kindly, but she wasn’t the Doctor. You’d likely never see her again after the TARDIS flew off to your next adventure. The Doctor was always with you, giving you gifts and saying wonderful things that made you hope for something more. You leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on her cheek, feeling the skin warm under your touch. When you leaned back she was red, eyes as wide as saucers. 

“Not as much as you, Doctor. Don’t worry about other people.” You wanted to lean in and kiss her on the lips this time, but you felt too many eyes on you. The song ended and you let yourself fall out of the Doctors warm embrace. You squeezed her shoulder and pushed past the party-goers, buzzing back to the TARDIS. 

+++++

   The villagers all said their goodbyes before the five of you could leave. Just when you thought you’d gotten through every last person, Nora approached. 

“I just thought I’d say goodbye as well,” She said. She looked into the TARDIS, smiling sadly. “I wanted to let you know… I’m very happy that someone like you has found someone who cares for you as much as the Doctor does.” 

You felt your chest swell with different emotions as she took your hand in hers.  

“Hang on to her, traveler, and goodbye” 

   You watched her leave, happy that she wasn’t hurt by what had happened. Her words lingered in your mind and you glanced at the Doctor. She was hunched over the console, poking away at various buttons. You were beyond happy to have her. Someone who truly loved you. She met your gaze. 

“Coming?” 

You stepped forward, linking your hand in hers as she sent the TARDIS soaring back into the universe.

[darkmindsotome]

Risque Rouge pt14

Tagging: @umbralaperture​ @otome-smut-queen @silver-fox-of-azuchi @tsundere-mitsuhide @jennacat84

General warnings for the whole fic: Angst, some fluff, Mental health issues, emotional things, trauma, blood, death and possible triggers. Please read responsibly. 

Darkmindsotome Masterlist

---

Chapter 14

The coach driver dropped them off at the side of the road before leaving to join the other carriages waiting for their masters to return. Freshly baked bread and sweet pastries filled the air around them with a wonderful fragrance that should have had her mouth watering in anticipation of the meal to come. Should have... Evie noticed the slightly strange phenomenon but chalked it up to nerves. It was not only her first time going out with Comte, but it was also her first time in this part of town.

There were several boutique shops that in all honesty, the word extravagant didn’t begin to cover. The area felt a little like a section of Manmatre in that it was quiet and relaxed. Fresh vibrant flowers bloomed happily in containers and hanging baskets. There was the sound of happy chatter and friendly greetings all around them as she was guided towards the cafe he had mentioned before, but it was painfully obvious to her once more that their worlds were two separate things.

After walking for a short time the number of pedestrians subsided and a small family run cafe came into view. There were beautiful large windows displaying all manner of delicious sweets, the pale blue awning on the building gave some protection for alfresco dining. Chairs with woven rattan and a mixture of tables allowed for small groups of people to enjoy a meal together. Comte moved a chair for her and after making sure she was settled vanished into the shop to place their order.

She watched him through the glass as he spoke with a slightly elderly looking woman who was wearing an apron in the same colour blue as the cafe’s awning. It was a little surprising that no one else seemed to be here. It was possible that because it was not directly on the main thoroughfare that they didn’t see much in the way of casual customers. It was more likely that the majority of their repeat business came from residents of the area. Evie turned her attention to the planters made from half barrels and the multiple marigolds that were in full flower in them.

“Do you like it here ma cherie?” Comte spoke from the chair next to her.

“Oh! Oui, it’s lovely. When you said you were taking me to somewhere I didn’t think it would be...” She tried her hardest to avoid looking as embarrassed as she felt for not noticing he had returned only to find she had rambled her way into the murky waters of something that could come off as rather offensive.

There were certain things even she was aware of that you didn’t mention in polite company and drawing attention to the preconceived notion that she expected him to possibly take her somewhere more expensive or grandiose was one of those things.

“Somewhere so quaint?” He didn’t sound in the least bit offended in fact Comte was rather amused as he watched the expressions on her face change like the seasons.

“Sorry I guess I might have had the wrong impression.” She cringed avoiding eye contact as she tried to think of a way to make what she had just said sound less judgemental.

This cafe was charming it was simply not something she thought would be in an area like this given how affluent the other premises looked on their way here. She did actually find it calming to be in such a place compared to somewhere pretentious where she would have had to be sure to put on a show in order to mask her own nerves and avoid embarrassing Comte.

“Don’t apologise I should perhaps have taken you somewhere else it was my selfishness that led us here. I’m rather fond of this cafe’s macaroons.” Comte benevolently swept her concerns to one side taking responsibility on himself in a way that changed the tone seamlessly making it more the atmosphere more carefree. There was a smile on his face that made him look years younger and like a mischievous little boy. “Don’t tell Sebastian. I’m certain he is only waiting for an excuse at this point to lecture me on a more balanced breakfast.”

“You two seem very close.” Evie giggled happily letting slip one of her observations from before about the master and his butler.

“Well, we have known each other for a few years now.”

“Your order Monsieur.” A bright happy voice called from the doorway. The elderly woman was smiling brightly carrying a large tray in her hands laden with food and other objects.

“Ah, parfait merci Madam.” Comte said as he swiftly vacated his chair and went to assist her. Her eyes twinkled as he took the tray from her hands and looked at Evie.

“As you have such a lovely companion with you today I added a few extra strawberries and some more cream. Bon appetit.” Evie watched the woman who felt exactly as this cafe did, warm, inviting and comfortable. Before she returned to her shop she gave Evie a little wink with a broad smile on her face that left Evie thinking what a friendly person she was and how she was probably considered to be a rare beauty in her youth. The woman’s fine bone structure and was not easily hidden under the wrinkles of time or the spread of middle age.

“She seems to have the wrong idea.” Evie commented as she helped set out the items from the tray on the table with a blush forming on her cheeks.

There was a pot of tea with two cups and saucers also a small jug of chilled milk. A wicker basket held freshly baked bread and two gorgeously golden croissants perched on top of two plates. Small bowls of cream and fresh strawberries with the silverware neatly wrapped in pale blue napkins and a pad of butter. The entire table looked like a spread that would not be out of place in a fine hotel and she wondered if that was perhaps how such a place had managed to remain in this area where all the nouveau riche and nobles gathered.

“Does she? It is true I am not here alone and I do have a rather charming companion with me.” He was once more reminded of how sweetly innocent she could look, untainted by the world and that only served to make his own heart clench tight in his chest knowing what he was about to do. “I hope you enjoy the food and will forgive me.”

“Forgive you? I’m afraid I don’t follow, you’ve done nothing to --” Evie stammered wondering what had caused Comte to lose his jovial manner from before.

“Maybe not yet but I will. Evie, how much do you know about vampires?” There was a reserved edge to his tone as if he had accepted something finite and he began pouring tea for two with an unreadable expression that made her feel like he was masking something painful.

“Is this where you try to scare me with childish stories?” She was still struggling to understand the change in him and had no idea how someone could ask something so strange as if they were talking about the weather.

“No. Evie what can you remember of the night the doctor died?” He watched her carefully.

“That isn’t fair you know what happened that night.” Evie picked up her croissant and began pulling it apart with her fingers in an effort to distract herself from the unusual and still raw and painful topic.

“I was but I want you to tell me what you remember.” Part of him was hoping she would make the connections herself and he would only have to fill in some blanks. Judging by the blank look of confusion and horror on her face and the way her beautiful green eyes were darting around his wishful thinking would go unrewarded.

“I killed him. He came to my room saying I was responsible for everything happening to him and making him...” Evie started off talking in a mechanical way. She was trying to speak and keep her emotions in check so as to remain clear and coherent but it was by far an easy task. She looked at the man next to her no longer aware of his kindness and warmth. He was there he saw what she had done, so why ask? He also knew how she was plagued at night with grief and guilt. “I fought back and...”

“You fed on him until he was past the point of return. You drank his blood.” His words were more abrupt than he had intended. He knew this conversation had to take place but now that it was upon him he found he was struggling with the topic almost as much as she was.

“You think I am a vampire?” She tried to laugh as if it were a very bad joke but there was no joy in the sound that came from her mouth.

“No ma cherie, I know you are.” He saw her hand trembling and reached out to hold it, wrapping it in his as if it would help her understand. The colour drained from her features before his eyes like melting ice and looked at him with large pleading eyes as if to beg him to take back all he had said. He wished he could, it was affecting him far more than he expected to try to explain this to her. If only he could remove all her fears and worries, grant her the miracle that would make all this vanish.  

“Why? If you think... know I am such a terrible monster then why help me? Why take me away and put me in that big house and surround me with people? Are you hoping I do the same again?” Evie turned her hand over in his and gripped his firmly as she peered into his golden eyes. 

“Evie you appear to have misunderstood. You asked me in your room if I was not afraid of you and I said no. The reason is simple I am exactly as you are. We are both vampires, we’re pure bloods.” Comte attempted to push forward with the conversation all too aware that Evie was struggling to process what he was saying as anything other than a cruel joke.

All the carefully thought out explanations and reassurances he had planned abandoned him when he needed them most. As lost and afraid as she was right now looking directly at him he felt just as ashamed of his own ineptitude in being able to explain this better. He had never been in this position before it was completely new to him. He had explained to the ones in the mansion upon their awakenings the fundamentals of their new life but never had to explain every last detail.

“Pure bloods?” Evie muttered repeating the phrase feeling even more bewildered. She could feel herself slipping back into a numbing darkness. Her thoughts were moving faster than her mind could process and none of it was able to find a voice to receive clarity in being said. 

“We are the original cursed immortals. The vampires in stories are nothing like us. We can move in daylight, religious symbols have no effect on us. Holy water, garlic all a work of fiction.” Comte relayed all he could remember from the times he had spoken to the others.

All the ideas they had about what they now were and how very little of what they thought they had known of vampires had actually been true. He had found the differences in cultures and ideas to be interesting at the time and now he was simply hoping that it would be helpful in enlightening a lost and traumatised creature without hurting them more.

“Decapitation and stakes through the heart?” There was a frozen composure to her now as she lowered her eyes to the table.

“That would kill anyone ma petit.” Comte moved his hand from hers and reached out to place it on her head.

“You’re wrong. Not about the killing people part but you’re wrong about me you have to be. I’m not a vampire I’m human.” She avoided his hand as she spoke, recoiling in her chair. 

“Evie.” He wanted so badly to soothe her again even though he had no right as he knew this current situation was all his fault. Still, he desired to make it better, make her feel better. Such selfishness.

“NO! YOU’RE WRONG!” Her voice cracked and she knew she was crying. It was like a wall had crashed inside her head cutting off all of the world around her placing a protective barrier in her mind against the unknown. She tried to ignore the look on Comte’s face as she practically spat her words at him. She pushed off from the table causing its contents to rock under the motion and bolted. 

Fear clouded her mind preventing any real thoughts other than the desire to get as far away from everything as possible. The sunlight fell on her skin and she thought it was mocking her as she felt none of its heat, saw none of its light.

Her heart was pounding hard in her chest, it hurt so much. Her breathing was ragged and she could feel the air attempting to get into her body like small blades slicing into her. Why had he decided to tell her all that? It felt like it should have been a joke and yet there was nothing about the man spinning such absurd tales that suggested he was anything but sincere.

What concerned her more was how things that should not make sense resonated somewhere deep inside her. Ideas and characters from penny dreadfuls, macabre theatres and travelling storytellers. All of them planting small grains inside her subconscious and it took him to make them grow.

She was mad, she had to be. Vampires aren’t real and if they are she wouldn’t be one. Her eyes stung and she was well aware of the attention she was drawing as she ran carelessly through the streets with no regard to how she looked.

Screaming erupted behind her causing her to turn. Several nobles were jumping out of the path of a runaway carriage. The horse had taken on a wild look in its eyes clearly spooked by something and without a driver, there was no way to rein it in. Her distracted attention cost her dearly as her ankle turned with a painful crunch on the paved street and her body tumbled to the ground.

She watched the vehicle draw closer as she tried to get out of its path. She heard the thundering hooves and the creaking wood as the carriage strained against the velocity it would never normally reach. Evie felt the sharp lancing pain in her ankle as she tried to move her leg and then in a rush of black, gold and regal red all the wind was knocked out of her as she was shoved clear of the runaway carriage. “AH!”

The world went dark the sounds around her were muffled and the impact she expected to hit her didn’t.

“Are you alright?” A deep voice from somewhere above her spoke and she rolled herself to try to see who it was. Strong arms there had been protectively wrapped around her pulled back and the whoever had been her hero picked themselves up.

“I think so...” She winced as the movement brought back the pain in her leg.

“Here take my hand.” A man dressed in the same black and gold she remembered before being shoved was smiling at her offering his hand to help her up. He had his back to the sun but she could still make out a thick red cape that hung off one shoulder with golden tassels. He looked every bit like some sort of royal, his black hair was tipped with white and his jade green eyes were so clear they seemed unnatural.

Accepting his hand Evie was finally once more vertical and also out of danger. She tried to balance on her feet only to wobble and find her hero wrapping a strong arm around her waist to support her. Her hip caught something hard and when she looked down she saw a rapier. The golden details to the jacket of the man had her recognising him as some sort of military. She was reminded of Jean for a moment but noted he had been different. Both were certainly soldiers but she had a feeling that this man was simply more. His entire aura spoke volumes without him having to put any of it into words. He was regal, more than a Prince or a King.

“Genevieve!”

Evie automatically turned her head and saw Comte running towards her. Now she was no longer spellbound by the green eyes of the man who saved her she noticed how all the people in the street had stopped to watch the spectacle, some that had been inside were even hanging out of windows to try to get a better view.

The arm around her tensed as Comte drew closer.

“Do you know him?” Her hero asked in a low voice for her ears only.

“Yes but I don’t—” Evie nodded but she still didn’t know what she wanted. She had run as fast as she could away from the approaching man. She had hurt him, doubted him and questioned everything he had not only said but also done.

“You were running from him?” Before she could find the words to finish her own sentence her hero asked another question in response to the action her body had taken which was to start trembling.

She wasn’t sure if it was delayed shock or if she was actually afraid of the man who had once been the comfort for all her worries. What had actually happened? She had no idea why she really ran other than it was fear. She was scared that if anything of what she was being told as a truth was actually true that she was indeed a monster that she would repeat the sins of her past. She had flashes of what might be, a limp body devoid of life staring back at her with a grim death mask etched in a twisted euphoria. She could see the body becoming any number of people including the man so desperate that he would be running towards her, chasing after her after even though she hurt him.

“Genevieve, thank goodness you’re safe.” Comte spoke breathlessly after reaching them. His face no longer had a look of hurt she remembered it was only filled with a look of complete relief. He moved a little closer and was about to take her hand when Evie instinctively slapped it away.

“Don’t touch me!”

“Evie...” Comte curled his fingers into a fist. Her touch hadn’t really hurt and yet his hand stung like it had been plunged into fire. He tried to look into her eyes and saw that even she didn’t understand why she had just refused his touch. In an instant, she vanished from his sight hidden behind a strong and gallant figure of a man who was looking at him as if ready to curse every breath he took.

“I have no idea what is going on but I shall not let you lay a hand on this girl.”

“Napoleon.”

---

[lifebetweenlines]

D88 - Back on Track

1. Highlight of the day: I’m losing track of time and it becomes a temptation to document nothing about my days. I’ve attained a new streak of 5 days without any journaling and I’m pretty good at blocking this fact out of my mind. But then, we never stop living and even though when days seem to merge into nights and we can’t tell one weekday from another, I’m still living, still drawing my breath in and out and all the mediocre, even crappy feelings deserve a shout-out purely because of their existence. My existence. So here I am, picking up this routine again as if I had just woken from a very deep slumber. I woke up to the sound of rain this morning. It was gloomy, so unlike the day before. I wrapped myself with the blanket like a burrito while trying to snooze my alarms. I got out of a bed, stretched a little and jumped onto a video call with the fam as it was my sister’s birthday. I made her a quick doodle using the photo from our Chiang Mai trip as I went through the old photos last night. I steamed the last salted egg yolk bun that fit the saucer just now and made VN-style dripping coffee (since no ice, I had it hot and actually liked its thickness even better). I cooked for tomorrow and started cleaning section of the fridge and eye-balled how much of the refrigerated stuff I’m gonna bring to the new place. I finished the remaining Mexican spice, adding to the stir-fried sausage and shrimp. The kitchen was perfumed with such aroma that I was glad IH went out. I finally taped the two big boxes full of clothes and moved them downstairs so I could free up the space and vacuum now rather than postponing till later. I tried to use my laptop less today by listening to Diepdaydreaming podcast like really listening to the her stories and the songs while watching the raindrops trailing the window sill. It was good and I no longer felt restless, being able to focus on one thing at a time. I moved onto finishing the book on self-compassion and while I can foresee myself forget 80% of it the next morning, something did register and sink deep in me. I gave it 5 stars on Goodreads because it was written so beautifully, and though the message might seem repetitive, there seems to be always a layer to look at things and that makes it so enlightening to read. There are a few simple sentence that resonates with me so profoundly, I need to jot it down for keepsake purpose.

“Our pain can become beautiful”

“Every being is a mystery, unfixed, and full of potential. Our compassion is mystery speaking to mystery”

“Self-compassion isn’t self-sacrifice”

And now I’m inspired even further to get a tattoo that embodies impermanence. Maybe I should mull over that one word that I still keep at the back of my head - Temporary and see where that will lead me to. I watched a few clips by Cat Creature and officially became her fan for her authentic aesthetic sense and the way she expresses herself on camera and I have a feeling that’s how she carries herself through life off camera too. Lastly, I watched Eternal Sunshine of a Spotless Mind and cried a little towards the end. It was a beautiful movie about memory construction/deconstruction, about the raw feelings of affection, resentment and redemption. The ugly side of relationship can be brutal and self-deprecating but can also be tamed and yielded by the power of true love, of accepting each other’s flawed self. 

CLEMENTINE: This is it, Joel. It's going to be gone soon.

JOEL: I know.

CLEMENTINE: What do we do?

JOEL: Enjoy it

2. Thing I’m grateful for: a window with a drawn-up curtain so I have full view of of what’s going on outside, on the opposite balcony where there is a lady smoking a cigarette, so sunlight can flood in the room one moment and rain comes showering the next

[sagara-megumi]

SasuSaku Month - Day 6: Thank You || [Fanfic] Of Fights and Unexpected Events II

Title: Of Fights and Unexpected Events II

Rating: K/G

Notes: A continuation of yesterday’s story. There are some names of famous warlords from the Sengoku Era, if you know a bit about Japanese history, you’ll recognise them easily, if not, don’t worry, they’re not relevant for the plot. I hope you like it :)

Words: 2199

.

OF FIGHTS AND UNEXPECTED EVENTS II

I'm having a date with Sasuke-kun today.

Ino glared through half closed eyes at the screen of her smartphone. Couldn't that girl have thought it twice before sending her that type of text so early on a Sunday?

However, her expression softened and she sniffled slightly. She knew Sakura, and she knew her motives for doing it. and though she was still a little bitter, she was incapable of holding a grudge against her.

“Idiot...” she whispered quietly.

“Something the matter?”

Sai's sleepy voice reached her a bit muffled from under the covers as he turned on the bed and put his arm around her waist. As her only response, she showed him the message and he read it after opening only one eye.

“Um”

Ino pressed a button and the face of an annoyed emoticon sticking out her tongue appeared on the screen and sent it.

“So, I supponse this will last two or three more days...” he said closing his lids and snuggling up to her.

“I was going to call her today, but now...” she pouted, feigning frustration. “I'm sure she told my boss about the fight because the next day he looked at me when he arrived and I swear I saw an amused glint in his eyes. And she calls him 'Sasuke-ku-'”

At that moment, Sai lifted his head and kissed her, cutting her off.

“What was that about?” she asked, breathless and flustered, when he released her.

“You're being too loud so early in the morning.”

“It's not that early...!”

“For you and me, it is.”

He cuddled to her again.

“You love her too much. Make up already, I don't think I can bear being woken up by your grumbles much more time.”

“Hey!” she hit him playfully on the arm and in response, he tightened his hold on her

With his free hand he took the phone from hers and put it on his bedside table before closing his eyes.

“And, it's your day off, so no more talking about your President today.”

Her only reply was a happy chuckle as she returned his embrace.

. Sakura looked at the screen of her smartphone and pursed her lips, annoyed. With a sigh, she put the device back into her handbag and looked around, searching for Sasuke.

She had arrived fifteen minutes earlier to her date because her chauffeur had told her that on Sunday there was usually more traffic around the area she was going to go. However, the night before had been raining and the weather that morning was not being good either. She stared at the sky pensively. Fortunately, they were going to be inside the museum for a long time, so the probability of them getting wet was almost non-existant. However, she would have liked it to be a sunny day so they could have a walk after the exposition.

She looked around again and then, at the points of her over the knee boots. She had had to change some of her clothes after seeing the bad weather after planning carefully what to wear the day before. It had been a difficult decision, since she was not sure if she had to dress casual or elegant. She did not want to embarrass herself in front of him on their first date if she made the wrong choice. In the end, thinking about his partner style, she had gone for a mixture of the two and had settled on a pleated red skirt, a black jumper with a turtle neck and a thick woolen shawl big enought to cover her even her arms when drapped over her shoulders.

“Have you been waiting for long?”

She turned to the voice as a content smile drew across her lips and her heart skipped a beat in her chest.

“No, I've just arrived.” He had changed her usual suit for black jeans, a white shirt, a woolen jacket that was zipped up to his chest and a mac jacket that reached just pass his hips.

Sakura sighed inwardly. Fortunately, her intuition had been correct.

'I think that sigh was not only relieved, am I right?'

She was a bit startled at the sound of her inner voice. It had passed some days since the last time she had had to hide what she was thinking, and, she had realised she did not miss it too much.

'Ino is really lucky to see him so many hours every day...'

She cleared her throat and smiled at a comment that Sasuke was making about the weather. As if on cue, a drop grazed her cheek and she looked up.

“It was a good thing that we decided to meet here” he said starting to walk toward the entrance of the museum, assuring himself that Sakura followed just behind.

They had just crossed the gates when the downpour started, and looking at each other, they smiled relieved. After leaving their outer clothes in the cloakroom, they started their tour around the exhibition.

The place was organised by sections and they walked through rooms filled with armours and information about their owners and all sort of objects documents and paintings related to the Sengoku Era. When they arrived at the swords and blades area, they admired the magnificent collection. Among them, there were blades that had belonged to Uesugi Kenshin, Tokugawa Ieyasu and Ishida Mitsunari.

As Sakura was busy looking at some old documents depicting Takeda Shingen's swords, Sasuke took his time to study her. She was really pretty with her red and black clothes, and her hair tied in a high ponytail, cascading down until it reached her shoulderblades. He breathed relaxed as he walked slowly to another display case. There was something in the way her green eyes shone as she read the pages that brought peace to him. It was like a soft spring breeze at the end of the winter. He did not have to keep up his guard constantly around her or be suspicious of her words or actions. And that was very precious to him. She joined him and smiled, admiring a small engraved dagger which had belonged to a retainer of Oda Nobunaga. He still could not determine if his feelings for her would become deeper and develop in something resembling love but he knew that he was really glad to have met her.

.

Half an hour later, they were sitting down in the coffee shop as the waiter served them their orders, a cup of black tea for him and another with green tea for her. They drank the first sip in a comfortable silence, watching the rain through the window by their table.

“Did you make ammends with Ino?” he finally spoke, leaving his cup on the saucer.

“I didn't” she took a sip of her hot tea and then, grabbed her phone from her bag. “I told her that I was going out with you today and this was her answer.” She showed him the screen and Sasuke lifted a brow upon seeing the lonely emoticon that had served as a reply. When he looked at her, she had her lips pressed firmly, but her eyes showed a playful glint.

“I don't really understand it, you're not really angry with her, so why are you like this?”

“I might not be angry, but I feel upset for her childish tantrum so, until she takes the first step, I'm not going to do anything.”

“But you sent her that text” he pointed at her phone.

“Because I don't want her to feel that I've hidden things from her. That's not my nature. If we make ammends and later I tell her that I went out with you, or she discovers it on her own, then I'd be the one to feel bad, because this time, I'm aware of her feelings, I know who she admires now and it'd be a lie.”

He smiled as he stared at her, leaning his chin on his laced fingers, his elbows propped on the table.

“You're very straight-forward and loyal.”

“Yes” she looked at him in the eye. “I might have tens of other faults, but not that. Lies sooner or later bring unhappiness to your loved ones and to yourself.”

“And if you were forced to say one?”

“It depends on the situation and the lie” she leaned back on the chair. “To bring happiness to a person in their final moments? Definitely yes. To twist events for my own convenience? Never. I prefer to pay the consequences of my own actions.”

“A very noble way of thinking.”

“And you?”

“Well, I'm the president of a company, so I'm not innocent of telling lies, to tell you the truth” his tone of voice was a bit sarcastic. “However, outside work I try to stay true to myself and the values they've taught me. That doesn't mean that I'm as honorable as you. I confess that I have a twisted side and that sometimes I feel tempted to follow the path it whispers to me.”

Sakura was going to reply when his smartphone rang. With a sign of apology, he took a look and frowned. Then, he pressed the button to pick the call up.

“Itachi? What's the matter?”

As he listened to his brother, Sakura could see that his face turned a bit paler and that his eyes sparkled with something akin to disbelief.

“I'll be there immediately.”

He hung up and looked at her, trying to remain calm.

“I'm sorry, but I have to leave. Something came up in the company and I have to get there as soon as possible.”

“I hope it's nothing serious”

He stood up and picked up the leather wallet with the bill the waiter had left there before, followed by her.

“We don't know yet.”

As soon as the tab was taken care of, they made their way to the entrance.

“I apologise for the sudden change of plans. I wanted to invite you to have lunch at a nearby restaurant but-”

“Don't worry” she smiled. “Maybe next time.”

He nodded.

“I'll take you home” he said after a few minutes, while they were waiting for the staff to bring their outer wear.

“Oh, no” she said shaking her head. “You'll have to take a detour. I'll call home, or I can take a taxi...”

He looked at her with a serious expression.

“I can't allow that.”

And before she could protest again, he took their clothes from the clerk's hands and turned to the parking access that connected the museum with the parking lot under the square in front of it, touching her shoulder lightly to indicate her the way. Her back trembled slightly as a shiver run down her spine and she felt incapable of looking ahead at his agile figure that did not lose his elegance of movements despite the sudden change of speed in his pace and the stiffness of his shoulders.

.

The journey, done in complete silence, was faster than what they had thought, since not many people had decided to go out in that sort of weather. It was still raining hard and the wind had started to blow up suddenly. Fifteen minutes later, they had arrived at her house.

“I'm sorry for not being a more pleasant company during the drive.”

Though he was trying to hide his anxiousness, his expression was grim and his eyes had turned hard and inexpressive.

She unfastened her seatbelt as she made a soft sound of understanding.

“Thank you for a great morning. I had fun.”

“No, thank you” he said making emphasis on the last word.

He leaned forward slightly and looked into her eyes, and Sakura felt a blush tint her cheeks. He was not going to... right?

“Not many times I have been able to enjoy an exhibition as much as today.”

He straightened his posture again and offered her a brief smile. She went out of the car and closed the door. He rolled down the window of the passenger seat.

“I'll probably won't be able to call you in a few days if the mess is as big as it seems.”

“Don't mind it. I hope everything will solve soon.”

He made a gesture with his hand as he let the handbrake off and she nodded.. Then, she stayed at the door watching him drive away, turning to the gate with slow steps. Unconciously, when she wrapped her body up with the shawl, feeling cold after a gust of wind, she touched the spot he had brushed with his fingers. And though she tried to convice herself that what she was feeling was not disappointment and that it would not make any difference if it took him more or less days to call, deep inside her heart she knew she was already missing him.

THE END

[antiques-for-geeks]

Atari 8-bit lucky dip (Part 2!)

If you missed part one, you can find it here.

Back once again with a selection of games that will work on my stock 16k Atari 600xl. As before, there’s a mixture of the good, the bad and...

Carnival Massacre

Thorn EMI / 1983

On no! Someone is shooting at people on fairground rides! When shot, the unfortunate victims fall to their certain death, but you can save them (from the fall if not the sucking chest wounds) by running across the bottom of the screen and catching them. Miss too many and it's game over. Despite the sicko premise, I found this one really boring. For a better example of this genre you'd be better trying Kaboom - ideally with paddles rather than with a joystick.

Castle Hassle

Roklan / 1983

Now this is an odd little game. You travel round different castle rooms as ...what looks like... a ghost. What tells me this ghost inhabits a castle? Why the title of the game of course! The rooms are fairly spartan, with simple coloured outlines as their borders. Each room contains a simple puzzle to be solved in order to collect an object. The rooms are named to give you a hint at how to solve them. By holding the fire button, aiming and releasing the ghost can fire a magic projectile which can be used to kill enemies, move things or knock holes in barriers. Once all the rooms' treasures have been collected the next level with a new set of rooms begins. If I had played this game back in the early 80's I'm sure I would have enjoyed its simple blend of puzzles and exploration, but it's a bit slow paced and basic to want to spend too much time on now.

Castles and Keys

Romox / 1983

Played out on a colourful grid, you wander around a single screen picking up keys, avoiding certain coloured tiles that will kill you instantly and avoiding arrows shot from the sides of the screen. The keys allow entry into doors to the next screen / layout. Maybe I'm missing something, but I just found this one dull.

Caverns of Mars

APX / 1981, Atari / 1982

At last, we’ve come to one of the genuine classics of the early days of the Atari 8 bit. You fly your ship down through twisting caverns to retrieve a bomb at the bottom, then fly back out before the detonation timer runs out. On the way you have to keep your fuel reserves topped up by blasting fuel silos; run out of fuel and you lose a life. The whole thing plays like a twist on Scramble with the screen orientation flipped. The graphics are simple, but appealingly chunky and colourful. Game-play is tough and addictive, though there's section where you're required to weave through a barrage of meteors (again, just like Scramble) which I found really pushed my long-untested reflexes. As well as being tough and fun, this game has an interesting history; it was written by a high school student and sent in to the Atari Program Exchange (APX), a service run by Atari themselves to allow users to distribute their home grown games. It became so popular that it was later granted a cartridge release - I remember seeing it demonstrated in a computer shop at some point in the 80's. Jeff Minter's Llamasoft published a souped-up tribute to the game called 'Caverns of Minos'*, with added game-play features, psychedelic effects and ungulates! 

* originally for IOS, sadly now only available as donation-ware for android devices.

Centipede

Atari / 1981

Blast the centipede as it makes its way through a field of mushrooms down to your 'magic wand' at the bottom of the screen. Hitting the titular insect mid body will cause it to split into multiple sections. When all sections are destroyed a new level begins with a new centipede to zap. Fleas drop from the top of the screen and leave behind new mushrooms. Spiders hop around the bottom of the screen near your wand. Scorpions travel horizontally across the screen, poisoning the mushrooms they touch; a centipede will fall directly to the bottom of the screen upon touching a poisoned mushroom. All home versions suffer slightly when playing with a joystick rather than the track-ball of the arcade version. They often replicate this by giving the wand some momentum, which I find takes some getting used to. This version *can* be played with an Atari 2600 track ball, if you're lucky enough to have one of those (sadly I'm not!). This is a good, if slightly plain looking and flickery version of the game, and well worth a play.

Chicken

Synapse Software / 1982

Another Kaboom style game where you catch eggs. It's technically OK, but I found it (egg) crushingly dull.

Choplifter

Brøderbund Software / 1982

In this conversion of a highly popular Apple 2 horizontal scroller, you blast down prison walls in your helicopter to release POW's. Once released, you can land to collect and ferry them back to home base. Collect enough to advance to the next level. Jets, tanks and missile launchers hamper your progress. As a kid I only knew of this title as a colourful SEGA arcade game, so I was most surprised to find it had been a conversion of a venerable Apple computer game all along. It's one of the rare examples of an arcade game starting life as a home effort. This version is perfectly playable but doesn't look much better than the original version, which is a shame on a machine as capable as the Atari 8-bit. There is a later (and more colourful looking) XE release, but that version requires more RAM than my humble 600xl currently sports.

Claim Jumper

Synapse Software / 1982

Playing like a more advanced version of the arcade game Boot Hill, this is two player (only?) game where each player has to collect various items from the play-field and take them to different buildings to score points. The players can blast away at each other, but cannot fire when carrying a score item. There are also hazards to be avoided such as snakes. This looks like it would be a lot of fun if I had someone to play it against!

Cloudburst

DANA / 1982

Another eccentric looking and simplistic shooter where a smiling sun turns to frowning rain clouds which drop bombs on the player. Sorry to say I gave up on this one quickly.

Computer War

Thorn EMI / 1983

This game takes a lot of its style from the 80's nuclear disaster film Wargames (still worth a watch!), and seems to be some kind of semi-official tie-in. You highlight missiles on a map with your cursor, and begin a simplistic first person sequence to shoot them down before they reach U.S. cities. The controls in the shooter section have a lot of simulated momentum, so it's difficult to draw a bead on the missiles. The atmosphere is really good here, but there doesn't seem to be enough variety to the game-play to make it compelling. Besides, surely we wanted to play Atari in 80's to take our minds off the impending nuclear holocaust?

Congo Bongo

SEGA / 1983

Messy looking conversion of SEGA's isometric Donkey Kong inspired arcade game. This is just ugly and frustrating. It’s hard to tell where the obstacles and landscape features are in relation to your explorer. I never saw the arcade machine in the wild, but I really can't imagine the idea of pseudo 3D Donkey Kong being that playable. Not worth the time.

Cosmic Life

Spinakker Software / 1983

A strange game where you control a flying saucer that can drop drop a pattern of cells on to the screen. These then start growing according to the rules that seem to be based on the game 'life'*.

The original game is an interesting toy to play with, but the mix here with more traditional game elements doesn't seem to gel at all, leaving something less than the sum of its parts.

* see: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Conway%27s_Game_of_Life

Cosmic Tunnels

Datamost / 1983

A multi-level game where you launch a spaceship into a warp tunnel warp, thrusting against the effects of gravity with the fire button. 

After that you get to zoom down the warp in a behind the ship view, blasting and avoiding enemy ships. 

Next up is a planet-fall stage, where you have to navigate to a landing pad, dropping bombs on defence turrets along the way. 

Once landed, you exit your ship and control your spaceman to collect some glowing treasures from the bottom of the screen. You can only collect 1 treasure at a time and have to ferry each back to the ship. There are alien / dinosaur things to be avoided, and there are a limited number of spacemen available to achieve the task. This screen was a total pig until I discovered 

1) pressing the fire button makes the spaceman move faster for a short time and 

2) there are helicopter pads around the outside of the screen that make you briefly fly over the heads of the dinos.

Once all the treasures are collected you take off again, but have to destroy all remaining defence turrets before you can re-enter the warp tunnel. 

Complete the tunnel, land on your starting pad and you can begin it all again with a different warp. The whole journey has a limited fuel allocation, consumed by by applying the ships thrusters or taking hits. Run out of fuel and THE WHOLE GAME IS OVER! 

Phew... this is actually not bad at all! The graphics are appealingly chunky and colourful, and the take-off / landing levels are like a heavily simplified take on Gravitar or Thrust.

Crossfire

Sierra On-Line / 1981

This is a single screen shooter set in a simple grid, a derivative of the 1980 arcade game ‘Targ’ by Exidy. Enemies fire at you from all sides, moving in an out of cover. It the difficulty comes in keeping track of so many potential attackers. It's certainly not boring! I felt it lacked subtlety, but this one seems to be well regarded on Atari 8-bit forums, so I may have to give it another chance.

Crystal Castles

Atari / 1984 (unreleased)

This is an unreleased prototype conversion of the 1983 Atari isometric 3D arcade game. You move around blocky looking levels collecting crystals and avoiding various enemy types. Some of the enemies can eat the crystals themselves, and you earn bonus points if you complete each level as the one to pick up the last crystal. The levels have varied layouts and there are lifts and hidden passages. 

This version feels fairly complete to me. The sprites are a bit chunky and indistinct, but the levels themselves are really nicely drawn and very solid looking. The controls feel a little jerky, which seems to be something common to other home conversions I've played. The arcade version was played with a trackball, and you can feel that it was designed for analogue control. That said, this is a good conversion of a fun game.

There was a more polished official XE cartridge release of this game made several years after the prototype which requires a 64k machine for some reason. Atari cut quite a few complete or nearly complete games (and even a whole game system - the 7800) loose in '84 when the company changed hands. The lucky few got a release to pad out the cartridge line-up for the XE game system a few years later. That story is worth an article in itself...

Crystal Raider

Mastertronic / 1986

This is a fairly basic platformer where you collect crystals from each screen before moving on to the next. There are enemies and environmental hazards to avoid, but luckily the game but has good jumping controls which allow you to control the height and direction of your jump through its duration. If only all classic platform games were as forgiving! My main issue is that the screens don't have much variety to them, so I wasn't compelled to keep playing this one to see what happened next.

[maggiemay67]

The Centre of Me ( My parent lock fic from a while back)

The Centre of Me -------------------- John stood with hands on hips and a steely stare that focused on the girl in front of him.The girl with dip dyed hair and a concealed tattoo only her and Sherlock knew about. "Where have you been? We’ve have been worried sick about you." "What you and ‘Uncle’ Sherlock.I’m sure you had other things to amuse you both in my absence." The young girl smirked as she casually thumbed through the mail that rested near the entrance to the flat.Her distraught looking fathers face had changed from anger and worry to absolute confusion. "What’s that supposed to mean?" "Exactly what it sounds like.I overheard Mrs Hudson talking to her friend next door.She was telling her about the early days before Mum, when you and him ‘experimented’ a lot, and she didn’t mean with his microscope.It was a different type of chemistry and biology you both specialised in.She completely confirmed my suspicions." John reddened in the face as his next words tumbled out much too quickly. "The thing about Mrs Hudson.The thing you have to remember about Mrs Hudson is……" John was cut off by his smug looking daughter.She seemed to have the uncanny ability to say exactly what she meant as quickly and as emotionless as possible.She reminded him of someone.Someone tall and ethereal with thick black curly hair. Sherlock's influence was becoming more evident in her as she became older and John wasn’t sure he liked it.It made it harder for him to focus on staying mad at her. "I spend my life staying at Uncle Greg’s and Aunt Molly’s cause you two are constantly away on ‘business’ .I’ve heard them talk.I’ve heard everyone talk about everything.I’m old enough to read and see the papers and google stuff.I know more than you think about who you both are,who mum was, and what you all get up to.I’m too old to hide it from now.I’ve grown up.Not sure I can say the same about you two.Bounding around London, playing cops and robbers to all hours of the night.I don’t get to stand at any doors tapping my feet and worrying about you now,do I? Hypocrite!" "What are you both talking about?" Sherlock sauntered into the living room in his housecoat,looking like he had just been woke up and therefore inconvenienced by this newest Watson argument playing out in front of him.He flopped himself down on his chair and rested his arms on his legs, whilst looking from one to the other but not really seeming all that interested in the topic being discussed, or what one, if any, would answer his query. “Mrs Hudson being a lunatic.”
 “You and dad ‘experimenting’ sexually on each other” Sherlock’s face remained unreadable as he listened to both Watson’s simultaneously answer him. Sherlock thought that if he wished to remain in John’s good books,it would be best to reply to his response and not the girls. "Ahhh.Quite.She’s completely and utterly stark raving mad.Only person in London to ever let me away with shooting walls when I was bored, or who willingly invites serial killers into Baker Street on a whim." Sherlock smiled and winked affectionately at John’s daughter before bounding across the living room,grabbing his laptop and wandering to the table with his microscope,slides and various specimens.He was glad he couldn’t see Johns face when his daughter spoke her next words. If he had, he was sure he would have saw the Vatican cameos expression fixed there. "What like mum you mean?" John was directly behind were Sherlock sat and was now leaning to whisper closely in his ear. "Sherlock,I’m going to kill that mad woman downstairs…." "You’ll do no such thing John Watson!Mad woman or not,we both know what I did to the last person who tried to hurt her." "What did you do uncle Sherlock?" "Well…you know that window over there…" The discussion was interrupted by the anger erupting from the doctor smashing pots and pans around in the Kitchen. I’m going to go down there and strangle the old…your mum was a great woman, she was not…NOT..a serial killer.Your mum was working for the CIA before you were born.That’s all anyone needs to know.” " That before or after she shot uncle Sherlock?Got that little gem from Aunt Molly." John flung his hands up in the air in exasperation as Sherlock swung round quickly from his seating position to fix his eyes on the child studying him. " That was a misunderstanding between me and your mother, nothing more." "Uncle Sherlock you nearly died!" "Exaggerated somewhat by Aunt Molly.She does that Rosie." "While we're at it, Is it really true that you wanted me to be called Sherlock Watson?Another example to add to my,’are my uncle and dad secretly shagging one another?’list.My yes column is bursting to capacity by the way …." Sherlock smirked as John began to go red with embarrassment again,as he incoherently stuttered out another pathetic response. "Where….where…where did you hear that type of language Rosie Watson!" "I’m 16.I’m an adult." "Debatable." “More of an adult than you uncle Sherlock.” "Accurate." Sherlocks eyes had never left his slides throughout their little verbal battle.John’s daughters eyes had never left him since the minute he entered the room. "I know about stuff now, no thanks to you two!Thank God for Aunt Irene." John was ferociously scrubbing the kitchen table top now as some sort of anger deflection tactic. "I will never forgive you for phoning Irene and not Molly to do that talk with her Sherlock." "it seemed logical.More so than Molly." Sherlock had catalogued what he needed to and was now moving to stand beside John in the kitchen,his aim being how to safely remove the cleaning products from his blogger's hands. "Really…logical to phone the dominatrix in our lives to have, ’ the tAlk’ , with OUR sixteen year old daughter…" "Our sixteen year old daughter…..mentally adding that to the yes section ." John suddenly realised that all of this was not helping them get to the bottom of the present mystery they were faced with. "Anyway, stop trying to change the subject! Where were you last night?" Cocky to terrified in 0.5 seconds Sherlock noted but said nothing.Until she started lying that was… "It was late after the party so me and Brianna." "No you didn’t." "Me and Brianna said GOODBYE to one another then I went to Chery's." "Wrong." "Listen, contrary to what rain man over there says Dad,THAT’S WHAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED!" John looked at Sherlock and it was enough for Sherlock to realise that Vatican Cameos it was then. "Sherlock." "Yes,John." 
.
“Do it” "Thought you’d never ask." Sherlock looked gleeful as he glided towards Rosie and guided her confused looking self into the client chair.John took his seat and Sherlock preceded to circle her like a vulture.She looked terrified.’She should be’,John thought inwardly, as he watched Sherlock read her every move in the last 24 hours. "Okay let’s see.You said you were at Chery's house last night but the clothes you are wearing have been worn all night.If you had stayed with Cheryl,she would have given you a change of clothes, as she has done in the past when you have actually stayed there." John took a deep and relieved breath. "Just to clarify Sherlock, those clothes haven’t at any point,any of them, left her body since she left this house last night" "Yes John that is correct." "Thank God for that." Realising that the topic of conversation was now focusing on her sex life, or lack of one,she became livid at her dad and Sherlock. "Ewww!My God!How lame are you dad!That’s disgusting you would ever even think…..you are both complete freaks …" "So we have been reliably informed on numerous occasions.You didn’t go to Cheryl's so where did you go? You have a distinct smell on your clothes.A smell I know very well as does your dad.John deduce" John stood up and walked towards his daughter,leaning at her side to smell her jacket.Sherlock was at the other side staring at John and willing him to come up with the answer he had already found.Rosie could only sit deadly still,mortified at the thought of what these two oddities in her life would discover, but equally disgusted and intrigued at their odd behaviour. "I can’t believe you are both sniffing me right now.This is not normal behaviour.This is a case for the social work department.I’m phoning child line the first chance I get." "Oh good, so you are finally admitting you are a child then"? John could only smirk as Sherlock held his nerve and out stared the death stare of Rosie. Finally, when Sherlock averted his eyes to focus on John,he looked at Sherlock with such confusion, that it was enough to satisfy him that John had eventually worked it out. ""Mycroft!s car?What were you doing in your Uncle Mycroft s car?" Rosie's eyes went saucer wide and her cheeks grew red.She began to sweat and fidget in her chair. Sherlock continued to observe every note of interest in her behaviour as he carried on his deduction. "Clearly from the mood she arrived here in today,it wasn’t by choice to stay detained by Mycroft. So Mycroft or Andrea forced her to get into the car" John was thoroughly at a loss to comprehend what was going on. "What is it with them forcing Watson’s into cars?" Sherlock continued circling ‘the assailant’ as they talked.Rosie noted that anytime uncle Mycroft was mentioned,Sherlock would bristle and flinch, his tone would change to ice and his eyes would narrow.Today was not the exception to that rule. "He does like to stick his fat belly in where it’s not welcome.He clearly was removing her from a particular situation he deemed dangerous,so a boy then.Early hours of this morning.Well before five,i’ll explain that later.Probably one of his drones assigned to her saw something on the security cameras he didn’t like and informed Mycroft.He picked you up but didn’t take you home .Gave you a chance to calm down and sober up clearly." "I have someone assigned to me.Doesn’t that only happen with royalty?" "You’re a Holmes now, you ARE royalty." "I’m a Holmes you say.Adding that to the list." John had heard drunk and zoned out of the rest of the conversation.Sherlock quickly considered the possibility that he should have ( like the tattoo and piercing now) omitted that from the deduction conversation but decided that it was something John would never forgive him for not revealing if it became an Issue in the future. "Drunk…DRUNK! Bloody hell.Have I not taught you anything?" "I’m not Aunt Harry Dad ….or Mrs Hudson……" "She’s really not John.Thankfully.Not displaying any of the key indicators of alcohol addiction.Casual and harmless use expected in most teenage cases but still has a while to go before she can be more mature about alcohol consumption in moderation." Rosie shot Sherlock a quick, “Thank you for not being a complete bastard”,glance before abruptly, successfully but rather obviously,attempting again to steer the conversation to someplace other than the fact she was shit faced last night. "How…how did you possibly know he stopped me walking home with a boy from the party and helped me sober up.How did you get all of that from the state my clothes are in and the smell of Uncle Mycrofts car?It’s not possible!" "You googled me.You know my methods.What I am.What I do.Therefore entirely possible." "I know but ….Jesus…it’s disturbing and amazing all in one." Sherlock turned his head to John who was looking more and more like he was drowning in the whole conversation.It was either that or the sad expression on his face was him trying desperately to picture the little girl he once knew with the pigtails, comfort blanket and a teddy called Morty ( they had tried to stop her in every way possible but she insisted her teddy was to be called after Moriarty for reasons which were never explained to a sulky looking Sherlock that day).Sherlock was stirred from his thoughts when John roused himself enough to join the present day and focus his eyes back upon Sherlock. "A long time ago your dad thought the same thing" "I still do ..occasionally…" John smiled warmly at Sherlock and it never ceased to amaze him how much one little action could cause his breath to catch in his throat. "Soppy sentimental statements,followed by lopsided goofy smiles …adding it to my yes column.So why haven’t you never made deductions about me before uncle Sherlock?" Sherlock averted his gaze from John and focused his attention back onto the criminal mastermind in front of him.The mastermind who he noted now owned a coat strikingly similar to his own.However, he could not fathom why she would purposely choose to adopt his style of dress. "Oh believe me, I have made many deductions about you.Many many deductions.This is by far the most serious thing you have done to date though, therefore your father has permitted me to voice this one out loud.Your father you see wouldn’t let me before.He said the less he knew the better.I on the other hand have always felt that the more I know the safer you’ll be." Rosie in that moment averted her gaze from Sherlock.He assumed it was because of the tears that had began to pool at her eyes.Something he had said had caused a very emotional response.He concluded it must have been the realisation in her that she would never be able to trick and manipulate him like so many of her peer group could do with the adults responsible for looking after them.She composed herself in the space of a few seconds and spoke once more. "How do you do it so well?" "Simple logic.In this instance there was also the matter of the (at the time) cryptic note ,’you’re welcome’,left by Andrea at the front door today at five.Hate when Mycroft does me a favour.He never asks that I return one but he knows I can’t possibly stand being in his debt for long.Expect me to be gone for a few weeks overseas in the near future." John was now looming angrily in front of his daughter at the client chair. "Say sorry to me and uncle Sherlock." As if saying sorry had suddenly become the worst thing in the world, or a catalyst to start an explosion, Rosie leapt up waving her arms ferociously in the air before resting them on her hips.Her next words were screeched in levels that Sherlock was adamant only dogs would be able to hear. "NO!GOD! WHY SHOULD I?IT’S IMPOSSIBLE TO HAVE ANY PRIVACY WITH ALL OF YOU BREATHING DOWN MY NECK!ESPECIALLY HIM!" Rosie bounded across the living room pushing past Sherlock as she went,her long black coat flapping in her wake.John with lightning speed followed quickly behind her raising his voice with every stride. "You say sorry young lady before…" SLAM! "I stand outside your door doing absolutely nothing about it." He hadn’t the words out before her door was violently shut and locked from the inside.Music began to blare out from her speakers and John could only stand with his jaw clenched and nose pressed up against the outer frame. A bemused looking Sherlock stood with his eyes piercing through him,leaning on the opposite door. "John leave her to calm down.She’ll be a little more reasonable once she’s thought over her actions and the situation in front of her.You have the power to make that her first and last peer group party.She’ll yield." "What makes you so sure?" "She’s like her father…shout and react first…think later…much later,then feel remorse and guilt." John walked towards the kitchen with Sherlock and began preparing the tea.Sherlock merely sat at the table and continued to stare at his fraught looking partner.With tea in hand, John placed the two cups next to one another on the counter and sat down close to Sherlock with head in hands. "How does she know about us Sherlock?We’ve been careful and we…" I’m just surprised she hasn’t mentioned it sooner,she’s been thinking about saying it to us for three months now but something’s been holding her back.” "Why didn’t you say anything to me!." "Didn’t want you panicking." "What do we do now then?" Sherlock gripped John’s shoulder as the calmly spoke his next words. "I have reared that girl up from infancy with you John.Whereas she has your aggression and hot headed ness and her mothers spirit,she also has a little of my perceptiveness,astuteness and cutting attitude to life.Most of all,in that time she has grown up and understands human relationship dynamics and our relationship a little better now.She has eyes John.She studies me everyday and she sees how I look at you.She’s not an idiot." Upon those words falling from Sherlocks lips,John had unconsciously moved closer to him until their lips were only inches apart.John flicked his eyes from Sherlocks mouth to his eyes and a predatory mischievous smile flashed across his face.He was suddenly becoming aroused and Sherlock was very aware of it.Their legs brushed together under the table as John slid his hand down towards Sherlocks knee and gave it a loving squeeze.They had momentarily forgot about the teenage daughter sulking in the room not far away.John’s voice was rumbling and low when he next spoke. "And how do you look at me Sherlock Holmes?" John was now purposely kneading Sherlock knee and ever so gently grazing the side of his thigh, moving further and further up his inside leg.Sherlock’s breathing increased as he leaned further towards John until their lips were almost touching.He moved his hands towards the doctors greyish hair and cupped his head in his hands.When he finally answered his doctor,it was with an honesty and exposed raw passion that John had come to love about him. "Like you are almost the centre of my universe Dr Watson." As quickly as he had said it they were fervently kissing one another.John’s hands had now slid to Sherlock waist and he was gripping at the fabric of his lilac shirt and leather belt as their bodies melded into one.As John clung to Sherlock’s back and Sherlock to John’s head, it was easy to forget the thing that stood staring at them in exasperation at the entrance to the kitchen.It was less easy to forget that thing when it coughed several times to gain their attention. "JUST SO YOU KNOW….Adding this to the very top of the list" The words were like an ice bath to them.They flung themselves apart, John looking anywhere but at his daughter and Sherlock jumping off the stool, touching his head and spinning around a little before striding to a cupboard and pretending to look for something important.John eventually decided someone would have to speak. "Calmed down?" "I’m still angry with you two.Not just about today." Sherlock popped his head out from behind the cupboard to reply. "i know and we’re still angry with you." "Call it even?" Rosie stuck her hand out towards Sherlock and waited for him to shake it and finalise the deal.He stared at John and upon seeing his silent nod and waiver,extended his arm out to complete the contract. "This time." John sat another cup on the table and Rosie placed herself opposite the two of them. They all sat in thought, tea getting cold in each of their hands. Rosie could take the silence for only so long before feeling compelled to speak. "You have to cut the apron strings a little,both of you.You realise you’ve been smothering me." Sherlock and John looked at one another as if mentally deciding who would be the one to reply to that.John wiggled his eyebrows at Sherlock,Sherlock widened his eyes and that seemed to be enough for John to be het. "We care about you.We love you so much.Our lives are dangerous.They always have been.You coming along didn’t change that but it did change how reckless we could sometimes be.We’ve spent most of our life together protecting you from everything and anything that could potentially threaten you." "And that includes a sixteen year old boy,who wasn’t drinking and was helping me safely home, and who likes sci fi and comic book conventions?" At this Sherlock ceased raising his tea cup to his lips and focused on Rosie with a determined and steely stare. "More than all the mad men out there. Continue to ask us to stop protecting you if you feel you must but it will NEVER happen.There will never be a day that goes by that we will not gladly give our lives or our freedom to ensure your safety and happiness.You’d best get used to that." His eyes remained on her and hers on his.In that instance Rosie's expression changed to one of realisation and happiness.John could only wonder what she had saw in Sherlock's expression to invoke that type of response from her.He didn’t have to wait long. "I’ve been thinking about this for a while and now I’ve made my decision.I don’t want to call Sherlock my uncle anymore.I hate calling him my uncle." Johns eyes snapped to Sherlock, but Sherlock although momentarily wounded,had not flinched at what she said.His eyes simply remained fixed on her as John spoke. "Listen Sweetheart, me and Sherlock are really sorry we didn’t sit you down and explain what we are to one another sooner.This didn’t start whilst your mother was alive.I’ve always loved him …" "And I him."… "...but it didn’t change until we started caring for you together." A minute or two passed before John’s daughter decided to speak again. "I need to ask Sherlock something important." Rosie stood from her seating position and walked round the table slowly until she was directly in front of Sherlock.She leaned down so they were eye level.They only indication that she was nervous about this was the deep breath and pause before the next words came tumbling out at speed. "Do you love me Sherlock.Like you love my dad?" Sherlock eyed her strangely, before matter of factly replying. "No’ John watched as his daughters heart was crushed in front of him.A millisecond more hesitancy from Sherlock would have been enough time for John to have wrapped his hands round Sherlocks neck and strangled the life out of him for wounding her like that.Thankfully this was not needed because as usual,Sherlock was nothing if not surprising. "I love you more." And there it was.A face turned from disappointment and heartache to elation in the blink of an eye.From John almost wanting to kill Sherlock, to having to restrain himself from hugging him.A weight lifted from Rosie, she seemed to become more confident to proceed with whatever this was all about. "Then I can say this now.I don’t want to call you my uncle anymore because you’ve never really been my uncle have you?You lied about Santa Claus for me and wrote intricate scientific theories to convince me that reindeer fly around the world in one night ,even though it took you away from an important case and Uncle Greg was pissed at you for a whole month.You came to all the nativity plays about some guys birth you believe is a fictional character from a poorly written fairytale.You taught violin to my class for a semester when the music teacher was sick because you just knew that even with you at home,it could have effected my grades to not practice everyday.You nearly broke the arm off of a flasher that day you took me to the park when I was eight.You called half of Scotland yard to arrest him and nearly got arrested by Sulky Sally yourself.You tucked me in, told me stories about Moriarty,bandaged my cuts,moved the dead body parts to the spare fridge when my friends came round, because you wanted them to be allowed to come back,you brought the body parts out as party decorations at halloween when I was older, so my friends would think I was cool, and you watched Scooby Doo with me and never revealed the bad guy until I had given up guessing. I guess what I am trying to say is i’m sorry if I ever come across as not caring for you as much as I care for my dad because that’s not the truth. I love you.Uncle Greg,Uncle Mycroft,they are special …..but you’re not like them ..,you’re even more special.You’re my dad.My other dad.I desperately want to call you my dad.I should have had the guts to ask you sooner.I want this to be the last time I say uncle Sherlock to you.” She raised herself from the floor and wrapped her hands around him, burying her head in his neck.Sherlock in partial shock, had become stone in front of her.Ceasing eye contact had not changed this in the slightest.She barely whispered her question into his ear but it had the effect of having him finally move his arms to reciprocate the hug. "Uncle Sherlock will you let me call you dad?" Minutes went by of tight hugging but no reply had fallen from his lips,though a few stray tears had pushed themselves to the surface of his facial skin.He continued to hug Rosie tightly.Finally, she had began to get worried because not a thing had been said.She craned her neck towards John and spoke in a muffled manner. "Dad is he okay…what’s wrong with him,…it’s getting…..weird…." John began to laugh as he looked on with pride and love at the two people who mattered most to him in the world.He had craved this day from the first time him and Sherlock had kissed one another all those years ago…… They had been sitting on the sofa that night with Rosie drowsily slumped between them.Sherlock had offered to put her to bed for the first time since they had both moved to Baker Street.He lifted her gently from the chair and cradled her,lovingly shushing her to sleep as he walked carefully towards her bedroom.He lowered her into the bed and brushed her hair from her face with his hands and then bent down to place a kiss on her forehead.He whispered in her ear as a final gesture and then began making his way back to the living room.When he turned John was standing staring at him in shock at the doorway. "You just told her you loved her with all your heart and more than anything else in the world?" Sherlock looked like he might die right there and then of embarrassment when he realised his heart had been cut open and the one person he hid it so fiercely from could now see how hard it bled for him and his daughter.He could hardly meet Johns eyes that night,so John had forced him to by tilting his friends head upwards and holding it at eye level to his.Sherlocks voice had come out pained and weak. "Yes." John stroked Sherlocks face as he whispered words in a forced breathless manner. "You don’t love like that.You’re not programmed that way.You said it yourself." Sherlock inched closer to John with every word until it was painfully obvious to them both about where this was now heading.Where this had always been heading.Sherlock slowly and sensually pulled John towards him by his belt and wrapped his arms around him before he replied in his husky baritone voice. "Not normally but as it turns out there are two exceptions to that rule and they both go by the name of Watson." That first kiss was like nothing either had ever experienced before or would again.A lifetime of love,want, passion and loyalty poured from them until their legs became weak with the strain of it all and they collapsed down onto the floor of the nursery still holding one another.They held one another for what seemed like hours that night.This moment reminded John so much of that.It had been enough to bring them together, to know that he could actually really feel things like that for another human being.This was another of the many reinforcements of that . John was roused back to the present day by his anxious looking daughter. "Don’t worry.He did something similar to me a long time ago but with staring…….give him…about ten mins…it means he loves you,he is thrilled you want to call him dad and if you thought he was protective before,God help you now.Good luck getting married anytime before forty." "What?" As if breaking some kind of spell,John’s words and Rosie's response seemed to have the power to snap Sherlock out of it.He released his daughter from the bear hug and threw himself up from his chair.As he twirled and skipped and flung himself around the kitchen, he could only say. "He’s just kidding.I accept! of course I accept.Wait there I need my violin." Then he ran into the living room,picked up his instrument,asked John and their daughter to join him and then played for the first time,the secret song he had written especially for Rosie, for the day she would willingly ask to be his.A song that had been composed on the very first evening she entered Baker Street with her widowed father,snuggled herself sleepily into his side and wrapped her tiny fingers around his hand. A song he had entitled,’My Centre”….

[vincentbnaughton]

Repurpose Your Rope: 3 Decorative DIYs to Try

These projects are as beautiful as they are budget-friendly, and best of all, you can easily make them in one afternoon. Ready to learn the ropes?

Macrame rope curtain

Modern, yet rustic. Warm, yet airy. And perfect for the doorway of your choosing.

Supplies

Scissors

Tension rod  

Masking tape 

400 feet of ¼-inch diamond braided nylon rope

Instructions

Pick a doorway for your curtain and install the tension rod.

Cut 18 strands of rope. Each one should be 17 feet long.

Drape two strands of rope over the rod and line up the ends so you have four even strands.

Secure the rope to the rod with a “four-in-hand” knot. To create this knot, hold two strands of rope in each hand. Then, cross one side over the other. Next, wrap the top strands around the bottom strands. Cross and wrap those same strands one more time, then pull them up and through the loop before tightening.

Repeat steps 3 and 4 with the remaining strands.

Now the real macrame fun starts! Tie a square knot three inches below the base of the top knot. Grab the first section of hanging rope. There should be four strands to work with (one on the left, one on the right and two anchor strands in the middle). Position the strand on the left so it’s under the two anchor strands in the middle, but over the strand on the right. Then, pull the right strand over the two anchor strands in the middle and through the loop on the left. Complete your square knot by reversing the steps on the other side. Move the strand on the right under the two anchor strands and over the strand on the left. Pull the left strand over the two anchor strands and through the loop on the right. Tighten it slightly.

Repeat step 6 on each hanging section of rope. After completing this step, every hanging section of rope should have a macrame square knot.

Now you’ll begin to create more rows of macrame knots by braiding rope in the adjacent rows. Start three inches down from the first row of macrame knots and work left to right. Skip over the first two strands on the left, and create a square macrame knot with the last two strands on the right side of the first section and the first two strands on the left side of the second section.

Repeat step 8 to work your way across the sections of hanging rope, creating a second row of square knots.

Repeat step 6 to create the third row.

Repeat step 8 to create the fourth row.

Repeat step 6 to create the fifth row.

To make sure the ropes don’t fray, wrap masking tape at the bottom. Cut through the tape to make the ropes even.

Admire your handiwork!

Rope basket

It’s just like that basket you fell in love with in that cute boutique. Only better, because you made it yourself. Supplies

Scissors

Glue sticks

Cotton piping

Hot glue gun

Bucket for the mold

Instructions

Flip the bucket upside down. Then, apply a thin layer of glue to a 3-inch section of the piping and begin to wind more piping around it. Use the bottom of the bucket as a guide. Coil and glue the rope every few inches, until the base of your basket is a little bigger than the bottom of the bucket. (Note: Make sure you’re gluing the piping to other sections of piping, not to the bucket!)

Turn the bucket over. Continue to wrap and glue the piping until the basket is two rows short of the top of the bucket.

Cut the rope and glue down the ends for handles.

Remove the bucket carefully. If it sticks to the piping, try sliding something thin and sturdy, such as a butter knife, inside to separate the rope basket from the bucket.

Fill your basket (and brag about how you made it yourself)!

Hanging rope planter

Low on space but big on greenery? This project is a game-changer.

Supplies

Drill

3/8-inch drill bit

4-inch circular protractor

Tape measure or ruler

Jigsaw

Pencil

Scissors

Masking tape

4 plants  

Plant wire

Extra-strong glue, such as Super Glue

4 boards, each measuring 7 ¼ inches by 7 ¼ inches by ¾ inches

4 coffee filters

4-inch metal ring

Fine grit sandpaper

4 terra-cotta pots, each 4 inches in diameter

1 terra-cotta saucer

4 strands of 3/8-inch jute or manilla rope, each 8 feet long  

Instructions

Mark the center point on three pieces of wood. From that point, use the protractor to draw a circle.

Mark the corners on all four pieces of wood to create a drilling point that’s ¾ inch from each edge. Drill a hole in each corner and one in the center point.

Using the jigsaw, cut a path from the center hole to the edge of the circle. Follow the curve of the circle to carve it out. Repeat on two other boards.

Sand the boards to remove any splinters.

Wrap tape around the ends of the rope to keep it from fraying.

Knot the bottom of each rope.

Thread the ropes through the corner holes of the plank of wood that doesn’t have a center hole. This will be the bottom board.

Now it’s time to make a second knot in the rope. Measure 12 inches from the plank of wood and tie a knot. Repeat this step for the other three pieces of rope.

Thread the ropes through the drilled holes in another board and slide the wood down until it rests on the knots.

Repeat steps 8 and 9 with the remaining pieces of wood.

Gather the four loose strands of rope at the top, push them through the metal ring and fold them over. Wrap plant wire around the ring to hold the rope together. 

Glue a saucer to the bottom plank of wood. This will catch any falling water droplets. Now, hang your planter!

Pot your plants and pour them a nice cold drink. And maybe have one yourself, too.

Related:

These 4 Clever Hacks Give New Life to Household Junk

With This DIY Sporting Goods Catch-all, Game Day Is No Sweat

DIY Backyard Fire Pit: Build It in Just 7 Easy Steps

[danielgreen01]

Repurpose Your Rope: 3 Decorative DIYs to Try

These projects are as beautiful as they are budget-friendly, and best of all, you can easily make them in one afternoon. Ready to learn the ropes?

Macrame rope curtain

Modern, yet rustic. Warm, yet airy. And perfect for the doorway of your choosing.

Supplies

Scissors

Tension rod  

Masking tape 

400 feet of 1/4-inch diamond braided nylon rope

Instructions

Pick a doorway for your curtain and install the tension rod.

Cut 18 strands of rope. Each one should be 17 feet long.

Drape two strands of rope over the rod and line up the ends so you have four even strands.

Secure the rope to the rod with a "four-in-hand" knot. To create this knot, hold two strands of rope in each hand. Then, cross one side over the other. Next, wrap the top strands around the bottom strands. Cross and wrap those same strands one more time, then pull them up and through the loop before tightening.

Repeat steps 3 and 4 with the remaining strands.

Now the real macrame fun starts! Tie a square knot three inches below the base of the top knot. Grab the first section of hanging rope. There should be four strands to work with (one on the left, one on the right and two anchor strands in the middle). Position the strand on the left so it's under the two anchor strands in the middle, but over the strand on the right. Then, pull the right strand over the two anchor strands in the middle and through the loop on the left. Complete your square knot by reversing the steps on the other side. Move the strand on the right under the two anchor strands and over the strand on the left. Pull the left strand over the two anchor strands and through the loop on the right. Tighten it slightly.

Repeat step 6 on each hanging section of rope. After completing this step, every hanging section of rope should have a macrame square knot.

Now you'll begin to create more rows of macrame knots by braiding rope in the adjacent rows. Start three inches down from the first row of macrame knots and work left to right. Skip over the first two strands on the left, and create a square macrame knot with the last two strands on the right side of the first section and the first two strands on the left side of the second section.

Repeat step 8 to work your way across the sections of hanging rope, creating a second row of square knots.

Repeat step 6 to create the third row.

Repeat step 8 to create the fourth row.

Repeat step 6 to create the fifth row.

To make sure the ropes don't fray, wrap masking tape at the bottom. Cut through the tape to make the ropes even.

Admire your handiwork!

Rope basket

It's just like that basket you fell in love with in that cute boutique. Only better, because you made it yourself. Supplies

Scissors

Glue sticks

Cotton piping

Hot glue gun

Bucket for the mold

Instructions

Flip the bucket upside down. Then, apply a thin layer of glue to a 3-inch section of the piping and begin to wind more piping around it. Use the bottom of the bucket as a guide. Coil and glue the rope every few inches, until the base of your basket is a little bigger than the bottom of the bucket. (Note: Make sure you're gluing the piping to other sections of piping, not to the bucket!)

Turn the bucket over. Continue to wrap and glue the piping until the basket is two rows short of the top of the bucket.

Cut the rope and glue down the ends for handles.

Remove the bucket carefully. If it sticks to the piping, try sliding something thin and sturdy, such as a butter knife, inside to separate the rope basket from the bucket.

Fill your basket (and brag about how you made it yourself)!

Hanging rope planter

Low on space but big on greenery? This project is a game-changer.

Supplies

Drill

3/8-inch drill bit

4-inch circular protractor

Tape measure or ruler

Jigsaw

Pencil

Scissors

Masking tape

4 plants  

Plant wire

Extra-strong glue, such as Super Glue

4 boards, each measuring 7 1/4 inches by 7 1/4 inches by 3/4 inches

4 coffee filters

4-inch metal ring

Fine grit sandpaper

4 terra-cotta pots, each 4 inches in diameter

1 terra-cotta saucer

4 strands of 3/8-inch jute or manilla rope, each 8 feet long  

Instructions

Mark the center point on three pieces of wood. From that point, use the protractor to draw a circle.

Mark the corners on all four pieces of wood to create a drilling point that's 3/4 inch from each edge. Drill a hole in each corner and one in the center point.

Using the jigsaw, cut a path from the center hole to the edge of the circle. Follow the curve of the circle to carve it out. Repeat on two other boards.

Sand the boards to remove any splinters.

Wrap tape around the ends of the rope to keep it from fraying.

Knot the bottom of each rope.

Thread the ropes through the corner holes of the plank of wood that doesn’t have a center hole. This will be the bottom board.

Now it's time to make a second knot in the rope. Measure 12 inches from the plank of wood and tie a knot. Repeat this step for the other three pieces of rope.

Thread the ropes through the drilled holes in another board and slide the wood down until it rests on the knots.

Repeat steps 8 and 9 with the remaining pieces of wood.

Gather the four loose strands of rope at the top, push them through the metal ring and fold them over. Wrap plant wire around the ring to hold the rope together. 

Glue a saucer to the bottom plank of wood. This will catch any falling water droplets. Now, hang your planter!

Pot your plants and pour them a nice cold drink. And maybe have one yourself, too.

  Related:

These 4 Clever Hacks Give New Life to Household Junk

With This DIY Sporting Goods Catch-all, Game Day Is No Sweat

DIY Backyard Fire Pit: Build It in Just 7 Easy Steps

from Zillow Porchlight http://ift.tt/2ESu2TE via IFTTT

[garynsmith]

Repurpose Your Rope: 3 Decorative DIYs to Try

http://ift.tt/2oyLth9

These projects are as beautiful as they are budget-friendly, and best of all, you can easily make them in one afternoon. Ready to learn the ropes?

Macrame rope curtain

Modern, yet rustic. Warm, yet airy. And perfect for the doorway of your choosing.

Supplies

Scissors

Tension rod  

Masking tape 

400 feet of 1/4-inch diamond braided nylon rope

Instructions

Pick a doorway for your curtain and install the tension rod.

Cut 18 strands of rope. Each one should be 17 feet long.

Drape two strands of rope over the rod and line up the ends so you have four even strands.

Secure the rope to the rod with a "four-in-hand" knot. To create this knot, hold two strands of rope in each hand. Then, cross one side over the other. Next, wrap the top strands around the bottom strands. Cross and wrap those same strands one more time, then pull them up and through the loop before tightening.

Repeat steps 3 and 4 with the remaining strands.

Now the real macrame fun starts! Tie a square knot three inches below the base of the top knot. Grab the first section of hanging rope. There should be four strands to work with (one on the left, one on the right and two anchor strands in the middle). Position the strand on the left so it's under the two anchor strands in the middle, but over the strand on the right. Then, pull the right strand over the two anchor strands in the middle and through the loop on the left. Complete your square knot by reversing the steps on the other side. Move the strand on the right under the two anchor strands and over the strand on the left. Pull the left strand over the two anchor strands and through the loop on the right. Tighten it slightly.

Repeat step 6 on each hanging section of rope. After completing this step, every hanging section of rope should have a macrame square knot.

Now you'll begin to create more rows of macrame knots by braiding rope in the adjacent rows. Start three inches down from the first row of macrame knots and work left to right. Skip over the first two strands on the left, and create a square macrame knot with the last two strands on the right side of the first section and the first two strands on the left side of the second section.

Repeat step 8 to work your way across the sections of hanging rope, creating a second row of square knots.

Repeat step 6 to create the third row.

Repeat step 8 to create the fourth row.

Repeat step 6 to create the fifth row.

To make sure the ropes don't fray, wrap masking tape at the bottom. Cut through the tape to make the ropes even.

Admire your handiwork!

Rope basket

It's just like that basket you fell in love with in that cute boutique. Only better, because you made it yourself. Supplies

Scissors

Glue sticks

Cotton piping

Hot glue gun

Bucket for the mold

Instructions

Flip the bucket upside down. Then, apply a thin layer of glue to a 3-inch section of the piping and begin to wind more piping around it. Use the bottom of the bucket as a guide. Coil and glue the rope every few inches, until the base of your basket is a little bigger than the bottom of the bucket. (Note: Make sure you're gluing the piping to other sections of piping, not to the bucket!)

Turn the bucket over. Continue to wrap and glue the piping until the basket is two rows short of the top of the bucket.

Cut the rope and glue down the ends for handles.

Remove the bucket carefully. If it sticks to the piping, try sliding something thin and sturdy, such as a butter knife, inside to separate the rope basket from the bucket.

Fill your basket (and brag about how you made it yourself)!

Hanging rope planter

Low on space but big on greenery? This project is a game-changer.

Supplies

Drill

3/8-inch drill bit

4-inch circular protractor

Tape measure or ruler

Jigsaw

Pencil

Scissors

Masking tape

4 plants  

Plant wire

Extra-strong glue, such as Super Glue

4 boards, each measuring 7 1/4 inches by 7 1/4 inches by 3/4 inches

4 coffee filters

4-inch metal ring

Fine grit sandpaper

4 terra-cotta pots, each 4 inches in diameter

1 terra-cotta saucer

4 strands of 3/8-inch jute or manilla rope, each 8 feet long  

Instructions

Mark the center point on three pieces of wood. From that point, use the protractor to draw a circle.

Mark the corners on all four pieces of wood to create a drilling point that's 3/4 inch from each edge. Drill a hole in each corner and one in the center point.

Using the jigsaw, cut a path from the center hole to the edge of the circle. Follow the curve of the circle to carve it out. Repeat on two other boards.

Sand the boards to remove any splinters.

Wrap tape around the ends of the rope to keep it from fraying.

Knot the bottom of each rope.

Thread the ropes through the corner holes of the plank of wood that doesn’t have a center hole. This will be the bottom board.

Now it's time to make a second knot in the rope. Measure 12 inches from the plank of wood and tie a knot. Repeat this step for the other three pieces of rope.

Thread the ropes through the drilled holes in another board and slide the wood down until it rests on the knots.

Repeat steps 8 and 9 with the remaining pieces of wood.

Gather the four loose strands of rope at the top, push them through the metal ring and fold them over. Wrap plant wire around the ring to hold the rope together. 

Glue a saucer to the bottom plank of wood. This will catch any falling water droplets. Now, hang your planter!

Pot your plants and pour them a nice cold drink. And maybe have one yourself, too.

  Related:

These 4 Clever Hacks Give New Life to Household Junk

With This DIY Sporting Goods Catch-all, Game Day Is No Sweat

DIY Backyard Fire Pit: Build It in Just 7 Easy Steps

from Zillow Blog http://ift.tt/2ESu2TE via IFTTT