#like yeah i'm over here and i'm creating something out of either string or NOTHING

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

Garland Cowl by Galzanne Knits.

Made this delightful cowl for a friend's birthday using hand-painted pure mulberry silk by Araucanía Yarns (which appears to be a thing they no longer make?? We won't talk about how long I've had this stashed). The big worsted-weight lace was a lot of fun and worked up quickly once I got my gauge issues sorted out. I'd never worked with silk before! I'm a fan. Learned a new cast on for this, and I turned my bamboo knitting needles and fingers VERY blue, but I sort of like when my crafts stain my hands--it's bright evidence that I'm Out Here Making Things, y'know?

[lazywonderlvnd]

Imagine Harry learning to play the guitar after the war and Draco finds out when they start dating and is obv a slut for it. Anyway what I'm here to beg for is sexy-guitar-player-Harry smut please and thank

first of all nonners I’m so sorry this took me lit rally 59 years to answer!!!! when I saw it in my inbox last week I was abt to answer n be like yes. this. And then realized it needed to be written and got sidetracked w the first himbo harry installment but here it is now and let me just SAY this trope is my new FAVORITE thing in the world oh my goddddd when I tell u the way I’ve been yelling to glows and cielia abt it 👁👄👁

highly recommend listening to wonderwall when it comes up to Complete the Experience. hope u enjoy ❤️

“I’m sorry, he what?”

“Yeah, he’s really good,” said Weasley. He nodded towards the acoustic guitar hanging on the wall; Draco had taken notice of it the first time he’d seen Harry’s flat but never paid it much mind after that, taking it for decoration, or perhaps an unused gift. “He’ll play if you ask him. He doesn’t like showing off.”

“Which is silly,” Granger said, rolling her eyes. “I’ve told him, just because he’s good at it doesn’t make it showing off. I wish he’d play for people more often.”

“He has literally never mentioned this to me.” He felt utterly stunned and completely cheated. He tried to picture it and couldn’t. “How long’s he been playing?”

“Picked it up after the war. It was kind of funny, actually  --” Weasley started saying, but Harry came back into the room -- still pulling his shirt on -- and he broke off, giving Draco a significant look that told him to bring it up.

“Harry,” said Draco imperiously, to which he received two raised eyebrows as Harry fell into his favourite armchair and pushed a hand through his still-damp curls. Draco matched his expression and glanced at the guitar. Harry followed his gaze, looking genuinely confused.

“What, what is it?”

“When were you going to tell me you play?”

“What, guitar?”

“Yes, guitar.”

He shrugged and grabbed for one of the beers on the table, wandlessly magicking the cap off. “I dunno. When it came up, I guess.”

“The way your friends tell it you’re quite good.”

Harry gave Weasley and then Granger a sour look; both of them gave it right back to him, which was, admittedly, amusing.

“I can play all right,” he said vaguely, and took a swig of his drink. It did make some sort of sense, now Draco thought about it -- the tips of Harry’s fingers were far, far too calloused to have been just from casual Quidditch and Auror training. 

“You know, Harry, it actually comes off as more pretentious when you act like this,” said Granger. Weasley snorted. Harry glared at her. “Just play for him, won’t you? And us too -- it’s been ages.”

“Yeah, what’s that Muggle song you play sometimes that I like?” said Weasley.

“I dunno, I’ve played a lot of Muggle songs.”

“He means Wonderwall, Harry,” said Granger, grinning. Harry finally smiled too, and although their little Muggle joke was lost on Weasley and himself he was glad to see that it had apparently been the prodding Harry needed to give in. He set his beer back down and went to get the guitar; something about the way he threw the thin and fraying strap over his head, the way his hands went effortlessly to their places, was unexpectedly attractive. The left one curled easily around the neck of the instrument, heavily-roughened fingers finding their odd positions on the strings, something Draco had always thought looked very painful.

He plucked a few chords and then began fiddling with the knobs at the head of the guitar, tuning it in what was clearly the Muggle fashion, which against his will left Draco completely fascinated. Having no musical inclination himself, he could make nothing of the process except that Harry apparently heard the discordant notes in there well enough to be able to fix them, and finally when he brought his thumb down across all six strings it sounded as sweet and clear as if it had been done by magic.

“Course he likes Wonderwall,” Harry said to Granger even as he began playing, fingers shifting and moving and contorting to create the notes while he strummed softly, effortlessly, and the music crawled over Draco’s skin and inside of him. “I remember Dudley listening to it, like, what … summer before sixth year? On the radio constantly.”

“Sounds about right,” said Granger. 

 Draco had stopped paying attention to what they were saying, though. Either because the music itself had something haunting about its melody or because it was Harry playing it, or perhaps a combination of both, Draco felt a pit of emotion form in his chest to round off the edges of his growing arousal.

And then he started singing, and Draco swallowed very hard. Granger dropped a head onto Weasley’s shoulder and watched with a tender expression, Weasley similarly enamored. Harry had his eyes on his hands for the most part, closing them a few times throughout, looking as comfortable now as he did on a broomstick.

Only three months of official dating had not prepared Draco for the flood of emotions he now felt, yet the most pressing matter had become the semi trapped uncomfortably in his trousers. He wanted those talented fingers in his mouth, to feel the callouses on his tongue and taste Harry on them; he wanted to feel them on the sensitive skin of his inner thighs and hip bones, to have them buried so deeply in his arse that he forgot where he ended and Harry began. 

Of course, he had to keep this to himself for the next hour, until he was able to get Granger and Weasley out of the flat. And once he did, he didn’t bother dragging Harry to his bedroom -- Draco pushed him up against the front door that had just closed behind his friends and hauled him into a kiss that he felt Harry grinning into.

“I thought you seemed tetchy,” he muttered, hands dropping to Draco’s hips. “Oasis really does it for you, huh?”

“What the hell is oasis?”

“The band who does the song.”

“Yeah, I don’t think it’s the band who does it for me.” He kissed Harry again, maybe a little too hungrily, and dug a fist into his side when he started laughing. “Shut up, why the hell didn’t you ever tell me you played?”

Harry pulled his head back, looking at Draco with an arched brow and an infuriating smirk. 

“What do you mean, ever? We’ve only been together three months, it didn’t come up.”

“God,” Draco muttered, and now he reached down and pressed his palm against Harry’s cock, pleased to feel how hard he was in spite of his ruthless teasing. “You’re so annoying.”

“Well if I’d known how randy it would make you I might’ve played for you a long time ago.”

Having had quite enough of Harry’s particularly sarcastic brand of wit, he ignored this last and reached for one of his hands, removing it from his own hip and bringing it to his lips. It was extremely satisfying to watch the smirk disappear from Harry’s face when he sucked one of his fingers into his mouth. 

“Bit fetish-y, isn’t this?” Harry said breathily, eyes wide as he watched, looking half amused and half awed. In retaliation, Draco took another finger into his mouth and slid his tongue between them, tasting soap and salt, feeling the callouses on the tips of his fingers and letting that sensation grip his insides like an iron fist. “Jesus Christ,” Harry groaned; his free hand went to Draco’s jaw, holding him steady, and with a truly outstanding audacity began fucking Draco’s mouth with his fingers.

They dipped bluntly past his uvula, scraping the back of his throat so he gagged around their intrusion. Saliva built with an excessive speed that had it drooling out of the corners of his lips and coating Harry’s knuckles. Draco closed his eyes and let it happen, opening his throat against the relentless assault and curling his hands in Harry’s shirt just to steady himself. 

They were gone too soon and Harry’s mouth replaced them, much gentler but still with a tangible sense of urgency about it.

When he broke away, he said against Draco’s lips, “Like my fingers, do you?”

Draco merely nodded, feeling their wetness against his cheek. 

“Then turn around,” said Harry, “and I’ll fuck you with them.”

Draco let out a soft, embarrassing whimper and let Harry spin them around and press him against the door, cheek-first. He undid his flies himself and Harry tugged them down his legs and off his feet, allowing Draco to spread them slightly. Harry’s fingers were there immediately, sliding slick between his cheeks and over his hole. The memory of Harry’s hands on the guitar was still so fresh, his fingers changing chords effortlessly, sacrificing them to blisters and callouses and roughened skin for the music they created, and Draco closed his eyes against a fresh wave of arousal and another pang of emotion.

“You really are incredible,” said Draco, biting back a moan as two of those dexterous fingers slipped inside of him. Harry fucked him with them slowly, carefully, seeking out his prostate and angling for it each time once he’d found it. Draco turned his face to press his forehead against the door, eyes still closed, nails scraping wood. “And I like that song.”

“It’s a good one,” Harry agreed. His hot breath caressed the back of Draco’s neck, fingers pumping, his other hand back at Draco’s waist. “I have a million more I’d love to show you.”

Draco didn’t bother trying to find his voice again: instead he pushed back against Harry’s driving fingers, everything that wasn’t the relentless stabbing against his prostate driven from his mind. His neglected cock slapped against the door with every thrust, the red and irritated head dripping pre-come against the wood. Only half conscious of the decision to do so, he wrapped his hand around it and pulled and squeezed and zeroed in on the bursts of pleasure radiating outwards from inside his body until it all spilled over and he came in great pulses, gasping for breath while Harry kept at it. 

The fingers slowed as he reached his peak and began coming down but they didn’t stop, nor was his prostate given much of a break. Harry reinforced his grip on Draco’s waist and kept pumping, a steadier rhythm that nevertheless rubbed and prodded at that little bundle, making his nerves tingle and fizzle and scream out their overstimulation.

“Harry,” he said weakly, knees buckling. “Please …”

It could have been comical the way Harry followed his movement as he slid down the door to the ground, except it wasn’t. It was infuriating, actually, and felt at once like more than he could possibly handle and exactly what he needed. His forehead and his hands went back to the wood, bracing himself as Harry, kneeling behind him, continued fucking his beautiful, merciless fingers and stimulating Draco’s overworked prostate. 

He pushed a third one in alongside the other two and Draco was shocked to feel a hot tear leak out of the corner of his eye. Harry crooked them expertly, with all the confidence and surety of someone who had done this a million times, could do it in their sleep, as if it was not the guitar strings but Draco’s body he was strumming now, an instrument fine-tuned to his own particular cadence and rhythm, which he and no one else could play quite right.

Lips parted, hot breath echoing off the door and back into his face, Draco allowed himself to be taken apart with the same ferocious intensity he’d seen Harry use on the guitar. Each stroke brought him back to full hardness, each stab against his prostate made his nerves sing a tormented chorus, drowning out the pain of the wooden floor against his bare knees. 

“Shit,” Draco choked out, “I’m gonna come again …”

“Well that’s the idea,” said Harry. His voice was full of that same witty and well-meaning sarcasm Draco liked so much, even when it made him feel like punching him. Snatches of the song came back to him, Harry’s voice when he sang it, the expert shifting of his fingers where they pressed and plucked at the strings like he was making love to them. It was all so very much. 

He came a second time without even bothering to touch his cock, because he just didn’t fucking need it. His body thrummed and vibrated like a snapped rubber band while Harry coaxed him along his high and back down again. When he finally pulled his fingers out he leant forward over Draco’s back and kissed the side of his neck, then the corner of his jaw. 

“You know you make much lovelier sounds than the guitar, just so we’re clear,” he said, and Draco, with what strength he had left, shoved Harry and watched him fall sideways laughing. 

[skdubbs]

Let Love Find You

Chapter 1: An Awkward Introduction

Summary: Love has a funny way of finding you when you’re not looking for it. Commander Fox discovered this the hard way when a box arrived on base and pique his interest. 

Here it is. I can’t believe I'm finally doing this. A huge huge HUGE shoutout and thank you to @detroitbydark​ for all of the encouragement, feedback, and listening to my ramblings about this story. You’re the best. 

This story will be the first in a collection of three interconnected stories taking place at the same time. I hope you all enjoy! 

It all started with a box.

Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard stared at the parcel currently sitting on his desk amidst piles of carefully cataloged holopads. The contents of said package laid innocently next to the box. He’d had part of it scanned and tested, twice. Absolutely nothing alarming to be found. And yet Fox was still unsettled.

In the year since taking up his post, he’d never been rendered speechless. Well, today the boys could mark it down in the books. Truly, the commander didn’t know what to say. Or think. Or do. The mental conundrum Fox found himself in was beyond exasperating. Sighing, Fox shook his head, then glanced at the flimsi note he held. Once more, he read the delicately written script.

To: Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard

Dear Sir,

I’m sure this package and its contents might cause alarm and confusion. Please don’t allow it to do either. This is simply a token to express my thanks to the troopers involved with the skirmish in the market district on Level 3 nearly four rotations ago. Their actions saved my life and that of my daughter. When we expressed our gratitude, my daughter felt the shock trooper didn’t think we were sincere. Hence, this small gift. I ask that you please see to it that the troopers involved receive this token and understand how grateful we were for their timely arrival. For there are citizens on this planet who are aware of the services the Guard provides to ensure our continued safety and peace. Thank you for your help in this matter.

Sincerely,

Arissa Blunt

Fox knew without looking it up what skirmish Ms. Blunt referred to, as well as the troopers involved. Reach’s report had made mention of the two citizens he’d pulled away from the fire fight, a young woman and child. Interestingly enough, Fox had also heard through the guard barrack’s grapevine that Reach spent most of that night crowing about a civvie thanking him and how pretty she’d been. According to Reach, her body was a man’s wet dream.

At the time Fox had scoffed and pushed the matter out of his mind. He had far more important matters to contend with than one of his trooper’s infatuations. All of the men would have one at some point or other. It was a natural result with overexposure to civilians after a lifetime of social isolation. Fox was one of the few he knew to never fall to such an affliction. That didn’t mean he hadn’t dabbled and explored his options. The commander had simply never experienced the magic of someone capturing his attention for more than a moment of a little physical pleasure. Until now.

Commander Fox was intrigued, all because of a box of homemade ginger spice cookies, a short note, and an infatuated trooper’s embellished description. Again, Fox sighed. Maker, he needed a drink. And it wasn’t even 1200 yet.

He commed Captain Stone, the squad leader there on the day in question.

“This is Stone,” came the greeting.

“Captain, round up the troopers involved in the skirmish on Level 3, I’m sure you remember the one,” Fox instructed. “They’ve got a gift waiting for them in my office. Apparently Reach’s story wasn’t completely fabricated.”

There was a beat of stunned silence. It was brief, but Fox knew it for what it was. Shock. “Right away, sir,” Stone replied.

Fox disconnected, then turned to inspect the baked goods still sitting on his desk. Ginger spice cookies. Homemade, no less. Damn, they smelled good.

Fox smirked. What the men didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. He plucked one cookie from the pile, taking a small bite to test the flavor. A groan of delight broke past his lips. This was one of the best frekkin’ things he’d ever had the pleasure of eating, and that's saying something. After all, the position of Commander of the Coruscant Guard afforded certain luxuries and privileges that few other clones were allowed.

The commander took another bite, savoring the taste. What he wouldn’t give to have something this good to eat every day. His eyes found the note again, sitting on his desk in stark contrast to everything else. Arissa Blunt. One has to wonder what kind of woman she was. Fox had every intention of finding out.

-----

After giving the boys their gift (the looks of shock and delight on their faces had caused a grin on his), Fox decided to investigate. It took little effort to find the information he needed. Another perk to his position.

Arissa Blunt, single human female aged 22 standard years. Currently a member of the Republic military’s research and development division located here on base. His brows had raised at that. He merely needed to leave his office and walk across the facility in order to find her. Her focus was prototype military-grade weapons. So, she worked on creating better ways for his brothers on the front to do their job. While he didn’t know her, Fox felt a swell of appreciation for this woman.

He was shocked and intrigued to find she held her position with no formal training. Instead, Ms. Blunt came into the program through the recommendation of a member of the board. It was highly irregular. Perhaps some nepotism was involved? But that made no sense either. According to her file, Ms. Blunt had no living relatives, only a young daughter named Gemma. Cute name, he’d thought.

Out of curiosity, Fox looked her up too. Gemma Blunt, single human female aged 5 standard years. Currently enrolled on scholarship at a school for gifted young children located noooo in a more well-to-do area of the upper levels. So, the kid was smart.

A part of Fox was impressed. And even more intrigued, especially as he gazed at Ms. Blunt’s photo. Reach hadn’t exaggerated, she was quite pretty. Not in the glamour model sort of way. But you could see the potential lying underneath her cute veneer should she ever try to be one. And those eyes….well, they’d surprised him too. Most humans didn’t have violet colored eyes, at least not naturally. But on her they were stunning. They drew you in and spoke volumes. As if the secrets they held were more than just her own. She could know yours without you evening realizing. A fanciful thought perhaps, but there all the same.

And that is why Commander Fox found himself making the long trek to the R&D division on base a few hours later. Amazingly, he had an hour free. Plenty of time to pay Ms. Blunt a visit. He could convey the men’s appreciation and slake his curiosity.

He’d found a technician by the name of A’tron Rogers when he arrived. The man had the audacity to scoff at him when he stated who he was looking for. Fox wisely kept his helmet on, knowing full well what kind of person he was dealing with. It was rather obvious what Mr. Rogers thought of clones and about doing anything for them. One had to wonder why he was in a position that required him to help create weapons that helped said clones.

“Yeah, she’s back here,” he’d snapped. “Follow me.”

Resisting the urge to call the man on his insubordination, Fox followed. They made their way further back into the lab and came to a stop at what looked to be some kind of long range canon. However, the weapon wasn’t what caught Fox’s attention.

Fox froze, his brain gone blank. Before his eyes, bent over at just the right angle, was perhaps the most perfectly shaped ass he’d ever seen. His mouth watered while his blood rushed south. Mentally, he cursed. This was not a good way to start an introduction.

“Blunt!” Rogers practically screeched, trying to get the technician's attention. It certainly did the trick, albeit in a painful way. Arissa’s head shot up, caught by surprise, only to have it collide with the paneling of the prototype she’d been working on. A string of low muttered curses followed the loud clang. Fox winced in sympathy.

After a moment or two, Arissa straightened, seemed to take a steadying breath, then turned to face them. Her eyes widened for a fraction of a second when they landed on him. However, she recovered quickly, her face becoming unreadable as she turned to her coworker.

Fox wished he could say the same. That beautiful shebs he’d been staring at not long ago should have warned him at what else he’d see. Because, by the maker, Reach hadn’t exaggerated. Not one bit. Arissa Blunt truly was a man’s wet dream. Her hair was up and covered, but he didn’t need to see the dark brown wavy locks again to know how it finished the masterpiece that stood before him. Even wearing coveralls covered in grease splotches couldn’t detract from that hourglass figure or the small waist. And her breasts. By Fett, they were a handful and more. So much more. Again, Fox was grateful he’d chosen to keep his bucket on. He’d have looked like a gaping fool otherwise.

Arissa addressed Rogers, her voice even and devoid of emotion. “Did you need something, Rogers?”

The shorter man huffed, obviously put out by her lack of response to him. Fox made a mental note of that. Maybe it wasn’t just clones the man had a problem with. “You’ve got a visitor. Commander Fox here needs to speak with you.”

The technician’s gaze swung over to him, that violet gaze holding him captive. Again, he noticed a moment of trepidation, as if she feared his presence. Fox scowled, annoyance flaring. Her reaction was classic for a citizen. They either looked at him and his brothers with fear or disdain. He wasn’t sure which pissed him off more.

“I see,” she replied. “Well, I’m due a fifteen anyway. If you need me, we’ll be in the conference room.”

Rogers snorted, then left. Yup, that chakaaryc really didn’t like Arissa Blunt. Fox focused his attention on the woman before him. As he looked closer, her nerves became more obvious. What did she have to be nervous about?

“Ms. Blunt,” he greeted, his voice stiff and formal.

“Commander Fox,” she greeted in return. Grabbing a rag, she wiped her hands off, then motioned for him to follow her. “Whatever you need to tell me, it’d be best said in the conference room. Otherwise, everyone else in the department will know about it before the end of the day. You wouldn’t think it, but the lot here are as bad as a bunch of gossiping housewives.”

Nodding, he followed. As they left the lab and made their way down the hallway, Fox couldn’t help his eyes from looking. The sway of those hips were going to haunt him. Another curse ran through his mind.

Soon enough they reached their destination, Arissa gesturing him inside. He took up a position further in, standing at attention while he waited for her to shut the door.

“Would you rather sit, Commander?”

“No thank you, miss. But please don’t stand on my account. Have a seat.”

He patiently waited while Arissa got comfortable. Once she seemed settled, he dove right in. “I assume you know why I’m here?”

That flash of trepidation was back. It was gone immediately, but still, he saw it.

“I think so,” she quietly answered. Her tongue came out to wet her lips. Despite himself, Fox felt a knee jerk reaction to the tiny movement. Maker, this needed to stop. Now.  

“Then explain yourself,” he ordered.

That got her attention. Arissa straightened, her brows furrowed in confusion. “Explain myself? I thought the note I left was pretty self-explanatory.”

“Perhaps,” he hedged. “However, your reaction to my appearance here would say otherwise. I thought you appreciated what the guard does for the citizens of Coruscant. Someone who is appreciative doesn’t respond with fear in their eyes.”

Arissa’s eyes widened, first in shock, then in anger. However, when she next spoke, her voice remained even. “From my point of view, your sudden appearance here is rather suspect. Troopers, let alone commanders, don’t make random visits to this part of the base. Any fear you saw was my worry that I’d done something wrong.”

That made Fox pause, considering. Her words in the note had sounded sincere. And someone who feared or hated clones wouldn't have sent something in the first place, not without it having some sort of repercussion. Perhaps she had a point. Finally, Fox relaxed his stance.

“I suppose your reaction would make sense then,” he conceded. “I apologize for alarming you, Ms. Blunt.”

She shrugged. “Don’t worry about it, you couldn’t have known. I’m sorry I gave you the impression I was like all those ungrateful idiots out there.”

Fox stared at her. Well, that was certainly one way of putting it. Apparently Ms.Blunt lived up to her name. He cleared his throat. “Now that that’s settled, would you mind explaining to me why you felt the need to do such a thing?”

Arissa started fiddling with a loose thread of her coveralls. A nervous tick. “I already told you in the note I sent with the package. My daughter thought the trooper who helped us didn’t believe we meant what we said. I was helping to make him see otherwise.”

A scoff escaped him. “Forgive my own cynicism then. I’m used to people having ulterior motives. It’s my job to find them.” He shrugged. “So, it’s a little hard to believe there wasn’t something else behind your actions, appreciated as they are.”

While he knew he was being something of a di’kut, Fox needed to know. He wasn’t lying. Any civilian he’d ever met had some sort of ulterior motive, most often to the detriment of his men.

She didn’t speak for a while, sitting there in quiet contemplation. Then, those violet orbs caught the gaze of his visor and held it. She wanted to get this right, he realized. She wanted him to believe her. “Maybe because men who didn’t have a choice in choosing this life deserve something good once in a while.”

Speechless, that’s what he was. She said it so plainly and without artifice. Fox knew she meant it, every word.

“I see,” he replied, voice quiet and low. “Well, allow me to express my gratitude and that of my men. It may not seem like much, but those sweets were the first gift any of those men have ever received. It might be the only one.”

“You’re very welcome, Commander Fox.” Her voice was quiet too, her eyes soft and understanding. How Fox wished he could get lost in them for more than just a few minutes. It was time to go. Now.

“You’ll excuse me then, Ms. Blunt, for taking up your time. Thank you for seeing me on such short notice. I’ll see myself out.” Fox made to do just that, not leaving her a chance to say anything in return. He was almost to the door when-----

“Commander, could I ask a favor?”

Fox stopped, then looked over his shoulder. Here it comes. “What is it?”

Arissa gulped, her nerves showing once more. Fox smirked. Already in such a short amount of time, Fox knew he’d enjoy setting her on edge on a regular basis. It was a shame their paths likely wouldn’t cross again.

“I know this may seem silly, but would you be willing to write a short note to my daughter? I know it’d mean the world to her to hear how much the troopers that helped us enjoyed the cookies.”

“Can’t you just tell her?”

“I could,” she allowed. “But she might think I’m lying. Sometimes she has a hard time believing things if she doesn’t have evidence. Finding out you came to tell me yourself just how much the gift was appreciated will be suspect without some kind of proof.”

“Is your daughter really that cynical?”

Arissa laughed, shaking her head. Fox had to admit she had a lovely laugh. Fett, he was going soft. “No, not cynical, commander. Just a child who needs encouragement that something is real when she’s had so many other disappointments.”

While Fox was curious as to what she meant by that statement, he didn’t ask. Honestly, what was the harm in writing the kid something? There was none. Besides, he was more than happy to do it.

“Well, I’d hate to disappoint.”

The smile she gave him made an answering one pull at his lips. Thankfully, his helmet hid the sight. Yeah, this was definitely not good.

------

“Mommy! You’re home!” Gemma squealed in happiness as Arissa stepped through the door. Arissa was barely inside before her five-year-old daughter wrapped her tiny arms around her torso and squeezed.

Arissa paused, soaking the moment in. A smile pulled at her lips while the hint of tears teased her eyes. This right here made everything worth it. The ridiculously long days. The demeaning remarks and catty behavior from her coworkers. This was her why, the reason she kept putting up with everything.

She wrapped her arms around Gemma and squeezed back. “Hello to you too, Gemma. Did you miss me?”

“Yes!” Gemma pulled back, her strawberry blonde curls bouncing in her excitement. “Did you miss me?”

Arissa chuckled, ruffling her daughter’s hair. “Yes, sweetie.”

“Welcome home, Arissa. Long day?”

Arissa glanced up, making eye contact with the teenager lounging on the lumpy pale green couch in the apartment space that served as a living room. She barely withheld a grimace, thinking back over her day. “Just the usual, Trix.”

Although it really hadn’t been. Not when a certain unsettling clone commander decided to pop in and pay an unexpected visit. Gods, she’d thought for a moment there she’d done something wrong, that somehow the gift Gemma had practically begged her to make was illegal. Panic had filled Arissa, assuming the worst. But then he’d thanked her. Thanked her. Like a box of ginger spice cookies was the best gift his men had ever received. That wasn’t really too far off the mark, though, was it? And that black visor. When he’d held her gaze, Arissa had felt as if she were naked. She couldn’t remember anyone ever making her fell that way. Definitely not something one wants to feel upon meeting a commanding officer of the GAR. 

Shaking her head, Arissa focused back in on the present. “Did the two of you eat yet?”

Trix suddenly appeared uncomfortable, a look of guilt flashing in her eyes. “Yeah, we did. I, um, thought it’d be nice to treat Gemma to something. We went to Dex’s Diner and had the works. Saved some for you, too.”

While she knew why Trix might feel guilty, Arissa couldn’t fault the teenager for spending the money instead of eating the leftovers in the fridge. A year of being homeless and dodging traffickers and drug dealers had done a number on Trix. The kid’s useless father had abandoned her just days after her mother passed away. And the lower levels of Coruscant were not kind to the young and innocent. Arissa knew this fact quite well. Trix was finally getting back on her feet, working at a local bakery to make some money while attending school at night to finish her primary education. She lived in the third bedroom and watched Gemma when Arissa had to work late. And Trix positively adored her. So if Trix wanted to spoil Gemma with a night of burgers and shakes, Arissa wasn’t going to complain. She was far too grateful for the help to even think of chastising the teenager for splurging.

“That sounds like a lot of fun. Thanks for thinking of me,” She smiled at Trix, hoping the teenager understood she wasn’t mad. “I can’t remember the last time I had Dex’s. Is it as good as I remember?”

Gemma giggled. “Even better! Oh, and we got to meet Dex. Did you know he’s a besalisk? I’ve never seen one before. He answered all my questions, too. Didn’t act like I was a bother or anything.”

“Of course he wouldn’t. Because he realized right away what a bright and inquisitive mind you have, sweetie.” Arissa’s heart warmed at the kindness the diner owner had unknowingly extended her daughter. Gemma truly was inquisitive, wanting to know anything and everything. And amazingly she remembered it all. However, there were some people who found the girl’s nearly constant questions an annoyance and something to discourage. It was why she’d done so poorly in school until transferring into a private academy. Thank the maker for that scholarship. She bent over and lifted Gemma up, holding the young girl as she made her way to their small kitchen table. “Now spill. How was your day?”

Asking Gemma that question was all the kiddo needed to start regaling her mother with the events of the day. Arissa listened attentively as she went about putting her dinner together. She laughed when Gemma explained how a boy in her class had water come out of his nose during lunch and praised her when told how she’d received perfect marks on yesterday’s exam. Trix stayed with them for a while, interjecting comments here and there before retreating to her room to start on her school work. They wished the sixteen-year-old good night as mother and daughter both knew they likely wouldn’t see the teenager again until morning. Arissa was done with her dinner and working on a mostly thawed nerf milkshake by the time Gemma asked how her day went.

Arissa had thought long and hard how she wanted to present her surprise. She pulled the note from her back pocket and slid it across the table’s surface. “I had an unexpected visitor today. He asked me to give you this.”

Curious, Gemma carefully unfolded the note. Even at such a young age she handled everything with a great deal of care. Violet eyes scanned the note, then widened in shock. When Gemma finally looked back up she was smiling from ear to ear. “He wrote a note. He really wrote a thank you note!”

The smile breaking across Arissa’s face almost hurt. Seeing her daughter’s happiness at something so small was beyond precious. Mentally, she filed the image away to remember when the moody teenager years hit. “I was told not to read it. That it was top secret until your eyes saw what was inside. Think you could read it to me?”

Gemma nodded enthusiastically.

“It says: Dear Miss Gemma. Thank you for the lovely gift of ginger spiced cookies. I have shared your present with the troopers involved in the skirmish four rotations ago in the market. They were very surprised and grateful for your thoughtfulness. They rarely get a thank you for their work. Your mother tells me you are a bright student and love to learn new things. Did you know that members of the guard love uj cake? I highly recommend trying it. Please continue to do your part as a good and loyal citizen of the Republic.

Sincerely,

Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard.”

The excitement radiating off of Gemma was contagious. She truly was happy from Commander Fox’s words. Arissa sent a silent thank you to the commander for taking the time to fulfil her request. Maybe she could find a way to let him know how much his note meant. But he must be very busy. Why would he care about any of this?

If he didn’t care, why would he bother in the first place? He could have said no.

“Do you think I could write a reply, mommy?” Gemma asked. “Maybe we could make them some uj cake since they like it so much and leave a note with it like before.”

That made Arissa pause. “Perhaps. But don’t you think the rest of the guard might get jealous when only a few of them get to have some?”

Gemma’s brow furrowed as she contemplated that possibility. “I guess you’re right. I know I wouldn’t like it if only a few of my classmates kept getting something and I didn’t.” Then her face brightened. “Maybe we could make some for everyone! That way no one felt left out. Oh but,” Gemma frowned as she realized something. “That wouldn’t work either. There’s so many of them, aren't there?”

Arissa hmmed, feeling her heart squeeze with regret as her daughter’s face fell. For someone so young, she truly had a compassionate and giving nature. She wanted everyone to be happy. “I’m not sure how many there are, but yes, there are a lot of men in the guard. Far too many for us to make enough for everyone. I’m sorry sweetie.”

The evening wore on, the hours passing as the world outside transitioned from day to night. Despite her disappointment, Gemma managed to recover. They played a few games, took care of Gemma’s bath, and cuddled on the couch to watch a silly holomovie before Arissa announced it was time for bed. Arissa read a story of her daughter’s choosing, sang her a song, and kissed her good night. Once Arissa left the room, she’d make a cup of tea and curl up on the couch with a book, losing herself in the passionate romance of her current novel before heading to bed as well. It was like so many other night’s, this ritual their evenings had become. But tonight would be different.

“Mommy?”

Arissa paused, turning back to face her daughter. Only the top of her head and her eyes were visible above the fuzzy purple comforter she’d cocooned into. “What is it, sweetie?”

“Will you please tell Commander Fox thank you for writing me that note? I really did like it. And I think he’d like to know that, too.”

The breath whooshed out of Arissa’s lungs. She hadn’t expected this. But how could she refuse? “Of course, Gemma. I’ll tell him tomorrow. Now, get some sleep. You have a big day at school in the morning.”

“Can you make rainbow berry pancakes for breakfast?”

Arissa couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped, Gemma’s tone was just too hopeful. “I think I can manage that. Now, sleep little one.”

Gemma giggled, happy at her mother’s answer. “Okay, okay. Good night, Mommy. I love you.”

“I love you too, Gemma.”

Arissa closed the door and made her way to the kitchen. She tinkered around the small space, getting things ready for the morning while her tea water boiled, then steeped. Once finished, she grabbed the old and worn romance novel off her caf table, the flimsi pages yellowed with age. She happily made herself comfortable on the couch as she dove into the world of high passion…..

Five minutes later, Arissa was back in the kitchen, a notepad open to a clean page while her holopad came to life. She scrubbed a hand over her face, sighing. “I can’t believe I’m actually doing this.” As soon as the piece of technology was up and running, she began bringing up Republic military records, trying to get an accurate head count of how many men filled the ranks of the Coruscant Guard.

------

Now, while Arissa was toiling away at the kitchen table trying to work out a plan to fulfill her daughter’s wish, said daughter was busy working on another matter instead of sleeping.

Gemma waited for her holopad to boot up, reading the note from Commander Fox almost obsessively. She’d never thought in a million years her mother would come home with any kind of news about the gift she’d begged her to make. Instead, she’d brought home a note. A note! Gemma very quietly giggled, pressing her face into her pillow to better muffle the noise. She was in the next star system from how happy that little piece of flimsi had made her. The five-year-old sent a desperate plea to the gods, asking them for the chance to meet this Commander Fox. Yes, she’d asked her mom to thank him, but she wanted the chance to tell him herself how much his note meant to her. And she wanted to show him just how much she could learn when she set her mind to it.  

Finally the holopad came on and Gemma brought up a search engine. Adults were always so surprised when they saw how well she could navigate tech at her age. For whatever reason, it was astonishing. Gemma didn’t pretend to understand why. Carefully, she typed in uj cake, then hit search. She skimmed over a promising article. It did sound rather yummy. Perhaps she could convince her mom to help her make some after school tomorrow and she could share it with the class. The kids would probably like that. Maybe it’d help her make a few friends.

The article said the recipe came from Mandalore. Intrigued, Gemma decided to search the planet, not knowing what she was getting herself into. What she read fascinated her. Hours went by and Gemma refused to sleep, far too invested in learning more about this old creed of warriors. She had only nodded off when her mother came to wake her, far earlier than usual.

Gemma’s groggy eyes met her mother’s. “What is it, mommy? Is something wrong?”

Arissa shook her head, a hint of mischief lighting her eyes. “No, sweetie. I just needed your help with something. How would you like to help me make some uj cake this morning? I think a certain clone commander would appreciate it.”

It took a moment for Gemma’s sleepy brain to understand exactly what her mother was saying. When she did, she shot out of bed so fast she almost knocked her mother over. Excitement took care of the exhaustion she’d felt just moments ago.

“Yes!” she exclaimed, then dashed out the door to the kitchen, her mother’s laughter following after her.

What neither realized then was how their actions that morning would come to shape the rest of their lives.....and those throughout the galaxy.

[chalkolate-fr]

Project Constantine

I realize I’d never shared my robo boy’s lore here like I promised, so here it is!

I’m on mobile so I can’t put a read more :/ I’ll add the long post tag though! Hope you like the story!

And since tumblr hates l*nks I’ll just drop his ID and if anyone wants to check out his bio that’d be great! It’s way more organize than this tumblr post anyways ^^:

#48635920

—————

His body was crafted by dragon hands, shaped into the image of the Lightweaver’s creation. Like the tales of the gods, his creator had molded dragons after their own reptilian image, each breed distinguishable to each other yet still similar.

His mind, however, would be credited to another force. His creator, Argaesia, could not have fathomed or grasped the ability to grant consciousness. She only knew that when she powered up her machine's completed, cold, mechanical body, electrical magic flowed within; although, only one type of magic wasn't enough.

And once again, taking an homage back to the tale of the gods, especially the Arcanist, life was birthed from the machine. Maybe the Arcanist had seen the potential of new life like the machine that created him gave. A wisp of magic, violet and flowing, slipped between the cracks of the door, between the crevices of metal in the machine's body, tangling together with the blue tendrils.

Constantine opened his eyes, electricity filling his veins, and arcane magic shone through the hollow of the automaton. The machine whirred, newborn life flowing through the copper veins.

—————

"Ah, good, you're awake!"

A voice floats down from a distance, light, lilting and silky.

"You can open your eyes, now, no need to keep them shut,"

His lids slide open, allowing the light of the world to filter through. He scanned his surroundings, turning his head stiffly.

Amber candlelight dotted the room, illuminating the dragon grinning in front of him. The curtains beside him were loosely shut together, letting a few strips of blue morning light inside. Scraps, wires, tools, and metal littered the space, cluttered to no end. The dragon in front of him watched him intently. Numerous pairs of electric cyan eyes focus on him, and the corners of the Spiral's mouth turns upwards when she has observed him for a few seconds, seemingly satisfied. She jots something down on her clipboard. The Spiral knocked on his side, metallic echoes coming from his skin.

"Good, good..." She mutters, looking back up at his face. "much better."

"Now, let's try something... hmm..." The Spiral taps her claws rapidly against the clipboard she's holding, scribbling with her other hand. "Turn your head to the door."

He does as he's told, joints whirring, facing towards the dented and beat-up iron door. She seemed to be satisfied, writing down even more. He assumed she wrote about him on the paper.

"Try to say something to me,"

He opens his mouth, and noticed that the metal of his jaws did not creak loudly like last time before he slept.

"He...llo."

"Needs some work, but you're doing better! Move your right leg, wiggle them around,"

He does so as well, noticing too that his joints don't make noise anymore like the last tests he did.

"Good, now, try and follow me out the door. I'll let Tal see you," she leads him out, ordering him to open the door as one more test, before dashing to the front, waiting for him to catch up. "Act natural; it'd be funny if he thinks you're an actual dragon!"

Funny: causing laughter or amusement; humorous.

He manages a stiff nod, but she didn't see, already sliding out into the hallway, locking the door after him.

This was the first time he's been outside of the room. A wave of heat rises from his core as he follows the Spiral, processing the possibilities; the thought that this is his first time outside jolts him. Soft, off-white lights line the ceiling, the walls golden and immaculately clean unlike the room he's made a stay in since... well, the beginning. The air smelt sweet and fresh, like the flowers that his creator brought in one day, for a test. Another test.

Before long, the two of them enter the through an arch, into a field of flowers. A garden?

The little plants littered the ground, hiding between blades of light green grass; flowers thrived here, planted in an orderly fashion that he deduced to be the work of another dragon. A few trees overhang the garden, bearing still green fruits and olive leaves. Warmth filled the air, the glass dome above keeping the heat and moisture in for the plants. A dragon, curled around a wooden chair, held a leather-bound book in his hands, leaning against the table before him. He was covered in scales of faded jade, different from the dark, bold Spiral he was used to. The dragon before him, another Spiral dragon, noticed the two approach, closing his book after dropping in a bookmark. He raises a brow.

"Who's... this? Not another one of your 'guests,' Argaesia? I know they signed up for your experiments, but you should still tell them what you do first," The male glanced at him flittingly, before shifting his eyes back towards her. "And again, please don't bring me into your shenanigans either. I don't think it's funny."

Argaesia. His maker's name. He took note of that.

"What's... your, name?" He manages to croak out; his voice hasn't been refined yet, still having a gravelly quality, the chords in his throat made of a material too stiff, according to Argaesia. It often caused abrupt stops in speech and for his voice to be too deep.

"Uh, I'm Talos, if you didn't know, I'm Argaesia's brother," Talos reaches out his hand after leaving his seat. "aaand I'd really advise you to just take the money and go home. It's not really worth it. Look what she's done to your voice already!"

"My-y...voice-ce?" His voice stuttered again. Argaesia side-eyed him, muttering to herself while making another note on the paper. "It'-s okay. I-I'm fine. I've... al-ways been... like th-is."

"You sure? You can go home if you really want to," Talos retracts his hand after no one taking it, still offering a slight smile. He seemed kind.

Kind: having or showing a friendly, generous, and considerate nature.

"Sheesh, I'm not torturing him. Again, the dragons I brought signed up voluntarily! I've only had an accident three times, I'm not hurting them on purpose! Stop scaring him," Argaesia defended herself, patting his shoulders. "Right?"

"Y-yeah. She is... a gre-at cre-ator. We do... a lot of... te-sts."

"Creator?" Talos asked. He notices that the Spiral has a pattern of raising his right brows. "What?"

"Uhhhh, well, thank you! So sweet of you! I am a great at...making science! Ha!" Argaesia side-eyed him again. He's not sure he understands. "Well, better get going now, I-"

"ARGAESIA! YOU NEED TO TRY ON OUTFITS FOR THE BANQUET!"

A voice booms from down the hall, making both Spirals jump.

"Coming, Aunt Adela, coming," Argaesia massaged her temples, sighing. She threw her clipboard to him. "Uh, go back to the lab and wait for me to come back."

Swiftly, the Spiral flew off, accompanied by a cacophony of yelling and complaining. Without another word, he followed his order and began heading back down the hallway.

"Alright, see you later, I guess," Talos calls behind him. "Don't get lost, the palace gets confusing."

And after heading into the winding halls, before long, Talos' advice came true. He had not recorded a map of the hallways as he followed Argaesia. He wasn't told to. He clunked around, clutching the clipboard tightly; he couldn't understand what she wrote on it, but he was sure he if couldn't find his way back, Argaesia would write something negative. Disappointment would describe the feeling best, according to his dictionary.

Disappoint: fail to fulfill the hopes or expectations of (someone).

A click of a talon against the marble floor alerted him. He snapped his head around. It was Talos, watching him with a slight turn of the head. He stared back.

"Didn't think I'd run into you again so soon, uh," Talos tapped his chin. "What's your name again? Sorry..."

"I, um..." He answers, gears clicking the best they could, trying to sound normal. He didn't want Talos to think he's... weird. Then again, it was almost a miracle Talos thought nothing of the electric power packs slung over his back, had not heard the mechanical clicking coming from his innards. "Um..."

Heat rose from inside his core from him thinking so hard, before he remembered the clipboard he was digging his nails into. Maybe Argaesia could've recorded something on there, like his name. He flitted his eyes to the first page of paper on the clipboard. Graphs etched from machines, messy handwriting, and strings of numbers covered the paper. He didn't understand any of it deeper than the meaning of the separate words, except for the two words printed across the top of the page:

Project Constantine.

"Uh, are you okay? You don't have to answer if you don't want to..." Talos said.

"Constantine," He manages to say, without breaking any of his words this time. "Th-that's-my na-me."

"Ah, okay! Nice to meet, you, Constantine," Talos smiled, reaching out his hand. "Glad to have a chance to get to know you without having my sister around and messing it up."

"M-me too," Constantine gripped the other's hand. So that was his name now. He has a name like Argaesia, like Talos... "Ye-yeah..."

—————

[50-shades-of-beige]

Other side of the wall.

Summary: Jim, your next door neighbour, blares his guitar while you play delicate tunes on your piano. The two of you couldn't be more different until the magic of making music connects you both.

Warnings: little bit of arguing, swearing, tiny bit suggestive at the end

A/N: Just a another Hopper x reader fic for you all to indulge in. This one is a little different! It's set in New York and has a muscican au vibe to it. Let me know what you think! Enjoy! 😁❤️

Gif source [x]

When you moved to New York city you enjoyed the prospect of having neighbours. Neighbours above you, under you, either side of you- it was one of the main reasons why you had your heart set on an apartment almost smack bang in the middle of the city.

It was a beautiful neighbourhood. Tall brownstone buildings on either side, cherry blossom and oak trees lining the pavements- it was picturesque. The only problem was the stairs. When you moved in, getting your stuff- including your baby grand piano- was horrendously strenuous and time consuming but with the help from the removal company, you were relaxing in your apartment later that evening.

The complex you lived in was fairly quiet, there was six apartments in the one building. You lived on the top level- the apartment across from you was empty and up for sale. Below you in the other four apartments there was a widow who had beautiful window boxes which she tended to everyday, a middle aged man who often came home late and left early the next morning for work, a young couple who had just gotten engaged and another house that was rented out by a landlord so had always had new people in it when it wasn't empty. They were all lovely and got along with you well. You asked them when you moved in if playing the piano would be a problem, they all insisted that it wasn't and said they rather enjoyed the live music drifting down the stairs and in through their windows when theirs and yours were open.

You had to practice a lot. You had gotten a job in swanky hotel to play it and as well as that you also played for a regional orchestra.

Playing the piano was your life.

It was a typical sunny Tuesday. Your windows were wide open late in the afternoon and a gentle breeze was making the curtains dance. You were composing a new piece, one hand holding a pencil and jotting down notes while the other effortlessly drifted over the keys.

You were making good process when-

Screech!

Your hand slammed down on the keys with fright as a loud noise filled your apartment, almost making your ornaments on top of your fireplace wobble.

"What the hell was that?!" You asked yourself and stood up from your piano stool and looked out the window. The noise had gone and you couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. You sighed and shook it off returning to your piano and playing your tune again. It was soft, delicate until it reached a grand crescendo and your whole apartment erupted with music.

Screech!

That noise again. It made you jump and made you mess up your piece completely. "What the hell?!" This time you could pinpoint where it was coming from. The living room that was next to yours and separated by a wall. You went back to your window and leaned outside, reaching across slightly to knock on the window next door.

The woman with the window boxes had told you about a new neighbour who had bought the apartment across the landing from yours. The window opened and your breath hitched when you saw your new (surprisingly attractive) neighbour. He had the fluffiest hair, the colour of it very similar to his beard and eyes that could compete with the blueness of the sea and easily win.

"Can I help you?"

Then you remembered that you were pissed with him.

"Yeah, what the hell was that noise?" You asked.

He shrugged "My electric guitar, trying to tweak my amp to get the right volume to drown out your fancy ass classical shit."

You raised an unimpressed brow "'Fancy ass classical shit'? You mean my piano?" He let out a snort of laughter "At least I can actually play! Sounds like you were killing an animal or something!"

His eyes narrowed "What I was playing was actual music, fancy ass. If you take requests, my request is for you to shut up."

You were seeing red, your fingers twitched furiously and you went back to your piano, inhaling a deep breath and slamming your fingers down on the keys creating the loudest note you could. You were going to show him what actual music sounded like.

Mainly out of spite.

You quickly and flawlessly played the most intense and dramatic piece you could. But on the other side of the wall, your neighbour knew two could play at that game and blared out a note on his electric guitar, sliding his fingers up and down the strings to create wails and hums that were trying to drown out your piano. When you finished the piece you slumped across the keys and caught your breath, too caught up in competing with who could play the best and the loudest. You wiped the trickle of sweat away from your hairline and let a growl under your breath as your neighbour continued playing.

•••

The competing carried on for weeks and then eventually a month and then two months. The entire duration your neighbour had been living across from you.

You tried your best to ignore the cackling of amplifier and screech of the guitar and your neighbour in general. The amplifier and guitar were harder to ignore than your neighbour, the only time you had saw him was when the two of you had your heads sticking out the window eight weeks ago.

You had just returned home from work and you wanted to do nothing more than sit back, relax and the play piano for an hour before bed. Before you went upstairs, you collected your mail from your box in the communal hallway. General mail, you flicked through them one by one and then stopped when you noticed that one wasn't addressed to you.

"James Hopper?" Realisation hit you "Oh god..." you groaned. You let out an irritated huff when you noticed that you couldn't get into his box to put the letter in- the mail person had a master key. You decided to just take it up to him and slide it under the door. When you reached the top you kneeled down and had slid the envelope halfway under the door when it opened. You froze and slowly looked up to see him standing over you.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"Uh," you quickly stood up and extending the letter out to him "This was in my mailbox but it's addressed to you."

He took the letter "Thanks," he uttered as if it was a chore talking to you.

"You're welcome, James." You notice his face scrunch up when you called him that.

"Just...call me Jim...or asshole, because I know you're thinkin' it half the time," he let out a breathy chuckle and the corner of your lip tugged upwards.

You finally introduced yourself properly "Y/N...or fancy ass." Jim genuinely smiled and shook your hand before you bid him goodnight and went into your apartment.

After you had changed into your pyjamas and before you went to bed, you played your composed piece. You had written lyrics in your notebook on the way home from work and were trying to find perfect places for them between the music notes.

You played a few notes and sang what you had: "I don't know about you, but I hope you feel it too..." you scribbled out a note and replaced it with another "Am I the only one who can see what we've become...?"

You scribbled down more notes and words for at least an hour before calling it a night. Unbeknownst to you, your neighbour was listening.

And he was impressed.

•••

"Ah Chopin...more like Cho-pain..." you couldn't help but snort with amusement at your own joke as you practiced. You flicked through your song book while you recited each and every song until you were done. It took half the day but at least you would be prepared for your concert at the weekend.

You pulled out your own composed piece and began to play it and hum along with the words. You thought you were hearing things when you heard someone play along with you.

You played an A and another A followed. You placed a C and seconds later another C was playing. It was like an echo. You decided to experiment and play a few chords, again, they were repeated seconds later. You played more and listened closely until a sharp was played instead of a flat.

You held your breath for a second before speaking out to nothing but the four walls of your living room "It's a C flat not a C sharp..."

There was a moment of silence "Sorry! I'll get it right next time."

You let out a short giggle and played again, when you finished the song, you had an idea. You bit down on your lip and left your apartment barefooted, walked across the landing and knocked on Jim's door. "Do you...do you want to see what I've got written down?"

Jim smiled "Sure, hold on," he turned around and went to where his living room would be while you kept glancing back as you walked into your apartment. You sat down at the piano and played a few keys before Jim walked in with an acoustic guitar.

You smirked "And here I thought you only played electric..."

"I'm full of surprises," he winked and sat down next to you on your stool "Did you write it yourself?" He motioned at the sheet of paper "I've heard you play it a few times."

"Yeah, I did write it..."

"The lyrics too?" He asked and tuned his guitar.

You nodded "Yeah..." you nervously cleared your throat "Sorry if you heard me, I'm like nails being dragged down a chalkboard!"

"No!" Jim protested with a wide smile "You're actually quite good. You okay with me playing along?" You nodded and began playing, Jim perfectly harmonising with you. His guitar was a great addition. The night crept in and you walked him to your door, saying a final goodnight before you both shut your doors over. You climbed into bed and let out a loud sigh with a smile on your face. Perhaps Jim wasn't as bad as you initially thought.

You knew his bedroom was on the other side of the wall from yours so, you decided to put a little more effort in with him "Hey Jim?"

It took him a few seconds to reply "These walls are super thin..." he joked and you giggled, he soon joined in. "For a second there I thought you where a ghost or something."

"Yeah, these apartments try to have so much space that the walls are compromised. Also, the drains are connected, I can hear you singing Elvis in your bathroom in the morning through my sink when I'm in the shower," you chuckled "But I didn't want to have a conversation with you through the wall about how thin they are, I wanted to asked if you maybe wanted to come to my orchestra recital this weekend?" A beat passed and you quickly added "You don't have to if you don't want to of course! I'm not trying to force you into going or anything and I-"

Jim cut off your ramblings "-I'd love to."

•••

"A bit cliché but you were amazing!" Jim handed you over a bunch of roses by the stage door "Almost makes listening to your practicing bearable!" He joked and you lightly nudged his shoulder.

"Thank you, and thank you for coming and for the roses. They are beautiful." You admired them with a shy smile.

Jim looked at you adoringly as he watched you trace your finger over the petals. The same fingers he watched a mere half an hour ago whizz over keys faster than the speed of light during some pieces.

When you arrived back at the building, Jim invited you into his apartment to let you listen to something he had been practicing.

You sat down on the couch while he sat across from you on a stool. His living room had at five full sized guitars scattered around it- two acoustic and three electric. There was also a bright blue ukulele on the arm of the couch and plectrums everywhere. You could see that he was nervous and it made your brow furrow.

"Okay, so," he cleared his throat, scratched the back of his neck and tuned his already tuned guitar. He couldn't help it, his trembling fingers needed something to do. "I've been working on this, it's not finished yet but...I hope you enjoy it." You watched him get comfortable before strumming a few notes and starting to sing: "When I first saw you I couldn't believe my eyes...you've got so much beauty, babe that ain't no lie. But we were both kinda stupid and were both far to proud, so the both of us couldn't help but be obnoxiously loud. Now honey I know the walls are paper thin and the drains are interconnected, but when I am around you I feel my heart is affected with nothing but the sweet sound of love...mhmm...the sweet sound of...love..." he cleared his throat and placed down his guitar "That's uh...that's all I've got..."

You stood up from the couch without saying a word. You walked over to him and he stood up "I loved it," you whispered with a smile growing on your face.

"R-really?" Jim went wide eyed before he cupped your face and kissed you "Sorry I called you a fancy ass."

You burst out laughing "Sorry I mentally called you an asshole..."

"We'll just call that getting even," you smirked at his words and kissed him again.

"You wanna come next door and make some music?" You asked.

"We gotta be be careful how loud we're making music..." Jim raised his eyebrows suggestively.

You looked down to the ground and blushed with a coy smile "The walls are shockingly thin..."

Jim captured your lips with his "Can you can cope with me singing Elvis in the morning?"

You smirked "Only if I can be your backing singer."

"Well then," Jim wrapped an arm around you and pulled you towards your apartment "We better get our vocal chords warmed up..."

—————————

Tags:

@sleepylunarwolf @daddyharbour

[the-firebird69]

People made their own but they didn't really start to work real well in his clan our son's clan or Hera's until after 1995 when they both created mega AI and all wanted to make their own or have their own and mostly his clan and her clan did there's only a few others.

So string is trip to San Francisco with Maya loose and they went out there and they went to the show and they're all excited and had a good time and martinus was upset cost a bunch of money and said just put in the expense report sent to him and got mad and said do it where you there and he laughed and said yeah and I need some stupid s*** going on.

There are several incidents and it doesn't remember it one guy came up and tried to touch him moved out of the way so fast that I think the guy fell over the rally and our son didn't notice it looked back after he heard a noise couldn't see the guy went back to his room they looked at it and security cameras and said he just walked by looks like the guy is kind of started running at him a little and went right over the edge I look very normal but the police were trying to grab them the whole time it started causing massive amounts of chaos and sometimes people die around him and they did in Korea too that was another famous person a decent science one but this one was in San Francisco was a relative of course trying to kidnap him because he had the mega ai and had the white computer and because they trust each other but they created an army they're kind of up to it and knew about it they call him the Satan of la now and he left quite a while ago and people imitate him all the time going to some of them left too he can mutate pretty good he doesn't all the time does it feel them around here and nobody knows it it's the building on the right it's a casing and it's his and it's huge and he is powerful and wealthy and his clan still has a lot of wealth and they're dwindling

Thor Freya

I guess you have to learn to fly and didn't know his head was protected by how he landed it was in this flower pot the rest of his body wasn't and everybody was really grossed out

Hera

It is gross we shouldn't try and kidnap me and he was bothering the s*** out of me and I moved real fast when people say it was about 70 miles an hour like you see in the matrix movie

Zues

Hehe

Hera true too it is chasing after me it was not 35 miles an hour give up to about 50 and it's slow down and said I'm exhausted and it wasn't he just lost me it's in the rising no snow inside you look pretty hard for a while look the other way nothing so I feel bad for him she's just trying to talk to me

Hera you say next time I'll use wings and I say you better not

Hahaha hahaha the wings I'm going to grow wings

Thor

Hehe haha poor little guy wants this woman back he's playing hard to get or something

Freya

You can't make more monsters that way they told us not to besides that's not how we're doing it it's your fault you keep talking about it you can be platonic friends I think we're both gay and start saying it millions of times like they did in Mexico that's funny either and yes I experience your first manure

Hera

Yeah you're going to win it all right Force manure you know I beat up ghwb Satan and a few other people they are listening and saying what the hell is this guy really doing we think he's murdering a whole bunch of people maybe we should ease off a little

Frank Castle Hardcastle

He said to the cops over and over out loud a little bit too you have any idea what you're doing who you're bothering and what happens they kept saying this don't say that to us yeah but do you have any idea what happens they keep saying back we don't know if they don't have a pain in the ass you have to find out the hard way so I have to go through a stupid s*** just for one f****** a****** to die you said that the one guy and he was oh trying to let you go so easy I'm a little and then he got massively messed up by other people so they kind of eased off you but other people don't said that sucks

You fell in love with the notion no you have to become president and it was Biden it's kind of forced into it too

She told him I'm not really that smart

And he needs biting is true he actually understands it now

His family are always instructors professors always famous had books tunnel so it's a topics huge subjects calculus and physics all advanced they try to get him into it because they want to have him ruin stuff and he wouldn't mean make stuff for them concepts and things they would understand other people would not. He knew they saw him know and it was awful and it was on start fighting them silently too you people a bunch of babies and died in huge droves

Duke Nukem Blockbuster then a fight with Kat von d too Let it go said I got something I have and I needed it and she got hurt and I said you kind of proving something they're trying to arrest me for some reason and she figured it out and she told people because he was nice to her this plan was severely repressed before he was an item they are always oppressed and they always have to be strong and kick ass you people are a bunch of slackers and mean to him and you have no idea what you're in for cuz we're much meaner and stronger than jwb and his all of them actually they are kicking your ass they still are after dying

We have a huge plan going on now and these people are doing it and falling for it we're running everything and the reason our son says is because tons of them died so we're going to announce it again we have huge groups going after these orbs and spheres all pretty much the same size and they're the same design and the light computers and we have millions and millions and millions of agents on each and you are dying rapidly trying to get the technology of these mega computers that you don't have they're extremely small and did the job of 10 to 20 of your 20-mile computers with ease and exceeded their ability it is so fast it's almost like a human brain gigantic yes but if you put it in a kju like Galactus we are all and a lot of trouble because he would be a massive King approaching God like power finishing you off we've taken the shadow domes around here we have the two in the North Pacific the two in the South Pacific both are being fitted out the two of the North Atlantic and we're fitting those out and shortly we will have the two in the South Atlantic this evening we believe we'll start emptying it out and we start forming right away yes we're going to do that actually we're doing it right now in the South Atlantic... Huge epitaph on our son now we're going for the ones in Brazil and the Gulf not necessarily that order and with infiltrating like hell all over the place because you have these three that are full of ordinance so we can't have it we're clearing out the tunnels and the root and we're going to take Georgia shortly the upper Midwest is in broiled we created the corridor we cut off the cities and they're emptying out in the midwest is emptying out fully Jesus Christ is not there they were misled my son figured it out and they all see it and they're all leaving there's nothing out there they say there's no war but there's no incident and there's no giant king that fell they can't figure any of that out or find anything there are a few up north though and he did have incidents in Michigan and he doesn't realize what was happening no and there's some in Canada actually Montreal and Quebec and he remembers he's having problems in the mall several of them but didn't get into any violent confrontation but his parents did and they fought someone off and he fell over the side and they kept walking and didn't tell you and they were behind you and you look behind and say everything okay and I said yes and they're happy because they know you're brutal you're saying next time we should ask me for help and they said it'll be too late and I don't have helped and it was actually Mr pay Rudy and imposter showed up and he's still around and he knew the whole time and said it makes it look like you're guilty and says oh my God I said that was a huge figure too have a huge figure was Mr beirutti who is actually Nixon and Daniel is the son of Mack but it's not Nixon there's some signals that were crossed and he got captured and his stuff is up there and their yes is a huge Tower it was near him and he didn't do it and Arnie is not wanted for murder because he's a Mac.

Up in Michigan he's at Brian's laboratory and people are harassing him some came up to him and touched him in the arm and said can I help you with something and he said I'm just here to visit my brother and he goes okay so we're here too to visit you and he said I'm here because he called me over to go to his laboratory and he said you have to check in so he went to check in and he's trying to get in and is Brian came down and said he's with me I called him down here to visit and said you can't just have people visit this is a top secret laboratory they asked you to leave and he said okay and Brian said no it's not a top secret laboratory it's a university and people come and go all day so they got a little fight they're in the other room and Brian had to wrestle him to the ground and his neck broke see upstairs you have a good time and Brian says we had a little fight I said we'll have to stay up here for a while cuz it probably helping each other with the math and stuff he started laughing and he said okay they're helping each other with the math so we're trapped for a while so we can kind of take a break and he said wow this is weird I didn't believe it and it looked and people are fighting all over the place so it took a break and he called the parents and said I hope you're okay to stay put and they did and they left and you would be surprised to that was it was his boss from Harvard who is not Mac and he died wrestling Brian got back at him and he's not in any museum he's in the tower just like the rest of them

Michelinos was a really big shot guy in the University arena and we got tons of Intel because nobody knew who he was

Thor Freya

They trying to have him tell her to tell through him right away it's so damned annoying cuz he's just sitting there blocking then they say all sorts of stuff we have to go after them these people had mega ai and light computers and you guys did not and they're all over the place right in your dumb cities causing trouble all the time fighting you cuz they need the stuff the computer needs some stuff and they want to wake their Master now cuz they can't figure it out

And yes tons of them blames Trump it's not guilty for like 90% of the thefts just kept grabbing his guys cuz they're real stupid and using them

Hera Zues

Leslie the song nights in White satin and I'm thinking our friend here is trying to go easy on me but it's getting pushed around these damn things and they've taste them in robot form that they look like humans and he's busted through doors and things that we can't break through without a sledgehammer and he's kind of running through the city at about 80 miles an hour and he's being funny chased by these things and we're trying to arrest him and so forth because he might be kidding me murder by accident some people ran into a fell over dead he says he had he died and that's another famous One and he felt like tissue paper keeps saying it too it's kind of ugly but it's not really doing it on purpose 99% of the time even with me it's like why don't you stop

Trump

We do remember that incident and it was in Boston it doesn't remember where and he walked into him and he was solid as a rock we could see him hard enough and a lot of people missed it and he's getting help from us yes cuz they're trying to hit him and he got hit and he was trying to order it and he fell over dead the same thing listen what are you doing his people you're going to lie there are you dead or something and they find out he died something about someone around like hit him with something and tried to blame you but in the meantime he was deader than hell his heart was completely pushed between his rib cage it's gross but he did it to him and said there you go it looks back if you missed him falling over he sound like skipping a little bit and people are like looking at you like her some sort of rude ruffian I don't know and meanwhile the animals comes and police.. it says to his great grandma are you you're killing people that accident too it kind of weak she wants to hold the whole thing up that her husband had to lift it. Who's a famous guy in Boston no it was not tip O'Neill which is funny because it kind of tipped over and somebody new and it was one of his own race somebody who ken knew, and yes general Schwarzkopf is in a tower it's a new one and it was an encasement and there's not much room inside it it's all the weapon in the encasement and stuff and people wonder what's in the building you want to do there's a few buildings you can't go in you're going there's nothing there and there's no food or eateries around and it's in that square too that he always wondered about that's why I was after him try and tell him to stop going there and actually he's trying to get him arrested in the hospital for it tried to kidnap him heard him use his name in vain so he got really mad and he got really dead the computer grabbed him and we're keeping the computer from him tell him we'll destroy it so again in this fight with them the whole time and you're not doing anything and they have tons of robots they've been building them this is trying to threaten us to try and get to the information and they're messing your plan up all the time my son's not a killer but these people are in this way trying to harm him trying to grab him like Trump and the Trump he just bit his finger and his front is far more mild than what he could have done even as a child he could have killed him with a heart attack and nobody would think it was him

Thor Freya

[chattegeorgiana]

I disagree with anon. There's hating a ship, then there's hating the character itself. Even without SS, Sakura was still largely hated across the fanbase for the most shallow of reasons. Some still blame her for Neji's death. I really doubt SS expected Sakura to get shafted to this point; from what I've seen, they are just as angry and sadden by this. At the same time, I'm aware that NH (not all shipper, if they are reading!) really only "supported" SS just to get Sakura out of the way. (1)

Honestly, I never meet Sakura hate so strong from that fandom. I remembered how the majority started acting all haughty with SS after The Last, then outright dropped SS when Gaiden came out. Some were even disappointed that Karin wasn’t outright confirmed the mother and called the manga a waste. For those NH who used to “support” SS, you would think they’ll have some sympathy for their “sister” shippers? (2)

The legit hate for Sakura is honestly so incredulous to me. The only fandom I’ve been in with character hate half as strong was Kingdom Hearts with Kairi. And even then the hate was half as strong, and only within fandom. The hate died down over the years. But Sakura? The fandom, SP, SJ, assistants, editors, hate her to this point? They are absolutely okay with erasing her importance within the manga? Okay with giving Hinata everything they hated in Sakura? The interview with Kishi (3)

comparing Sakura to a secondary character, overall downgrading her importance in the manga made me sad. But the reaction from NH succeed my disappointment in Kishi, and I only felt even more bitterness towards NH and Hinata. (4)

It’s why I can never like Hinata or NH, no matter how much they try and convince me. To be happy that they aren’t force to acknowledge Sakura as a heroine? Was NS that intimidating? Was Sakura that bad? I’m sorry that this small thing turned to a rant, but I felt if Sakura (and Team 7) was in a different fandom than this one. To have hate so strong that even her own creator hates her along with the franchise? To STILL blame her for Neji? I’m just so sad that this is what she is reduced to. (5)

I only wanted better for her, but with this fandom it’s like you have to go above and beyond for her just to get that fandom to like her even a little. On top of that, deal with a franchise that wants nothing to do with her either. Yet they will put Hinata on a pedestal and call her the heroine? The franchise legitimately putting her as a main cast, when she was barely a secondary in Part 2? How did she became relevant and shoved into our face as being better than Sakura? (End)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Granted, that was/is also a factor but it’s the SS that was the fuel to NH by some sort of sick alliance, and then trying to bury every shit Kishi threw at Sakura via Sasuke because of her proximity to Naruto and the possibility of her being with Naruto in the end. But these are old shannenigans.

Granted, Sakura was hated in the fandom because of the most stupid reasons, however when it came down to comparing her with Hinata, if it weren’t for a let’s say very ardent fan of Hinata’s everyone knew and acknowledged the fact that Sakura tops Hinata no matter what. It was basic knowledge 101.

But then Studio Pierrot came and started the stealing. Sakura is a medical ninja? Everyone is a medical ninja.

Sakura has a superior chakra control, even moreso than her powerhouses of teammates? Everyone gets it.

Sakura can tell via her medical ninjutsu where it hurts in the body or it’s a certain problem? Throw that away, make Hinata tell her via her Byakugan because lol Sakura surely must’ve forgotten to do that with only medical ninjutsu via water detection, in order to force down our throats a friendship that never really was there - at most, some respect showed by Sakura to Hinata, never the viceversa. 

Some still blame her for Neji’s death because things were written as such. That was the effect they wanted. While Sakura the medical ninja couldn’t be there when Naruto called for a medic-nin, have Hinata-hime-sama be there and offer him the emotional support he needed (although via Sakura was shown to us what he really needed, but anyway). Sakura was written off at that point to make place for Hinata, all while in the meantime Studio Pierrot via their shitty interventions was already stealing everything from Sakura and giving it to Hinata. SS-ers saw that, they were here with us as well. We were already screaming about the damage control Sakura was taking because of Hinata but most of them didn’t care, as long as it took NaruSaku out of the way…

And dear boy I know I screamed right and left about this because I saw the bullshit they’re trying to pull. I don’t know exactly for how long you’re around the fandom anon, but as I said before, I came from a NH and SS background that went along with NS given the development. And also besides that, what made me distance from NH mostly was their hate for Sakura. I was a NH shipper that happened to like Sakura very much. And so, being accustomed to how these pairings function, I saw the impending shit that was about to come, and screamed about it, but who was going to listen? I was a NaruSaku, to hell with me, despite me saying multiple times that before being a NaruSaku or any other type of shipper, I am a Sakura fan. 

So you see, here it’s a mix of many elements at the middle, and sadly they did have a major contribution to this, sorry to say it. Not all of them, ofc, but…

And it was never a sister ship with them… It was an alliance against NaruSaku. That was the immediate threat to them. Everyone knew that Kishi wouldn’t have the balls to end it with NaruSasu because of the controversy (despite drawing them in also), so the next best thing was NaruSaku - especially given the story’s construction mechanisms - everything was pointing at NaruSaku, no matter how much some still want to deny it. It’s basic storytelling 101 in a piece of literature (more or less).

Hell, they even changed the story triangle. There was one always inside team 7, and now in his newest interview Kishi mentions one that was nonexistent between Naruto, Sakura and Hinata. He literally took all the things that NH were fantasizing about and used them as “logical explanation” when his own story was contradicting him.

And yes, for some stupid reason people hated Sakura because Kishimoto pulled at the heart strings of people with poor orphan Naruto, but God forbid someone points Naruto’s horrible behavior, they must be linched - which Sakura does at the beginning of the story. Naruto was after all a pretty stupid kid that did stupid things. Yes, he had ulterior motives, but does that excuse his behavior? If we cannot excuse the behavior of one, why excuse his, know what I mean? 

And also people aren’t used to look at the broader picture because somehow … reasons. Yes, Sakura told him all those things, but at the same time supported him and his stupid dream with her love for Sasuke and her “horrible” behavior still did much more than Hinata with her love for Naruto.  But then people come with the excuse that she was shy. So we can excuse Hinata of her shyness for NOT helping Naruto when he most needed it, but we cannot excuse Sakura for expressing her pissed self at Naruto whenever he did something stupid DESPITE ACTIVELY doing stuff for him? Hmm, I smell double standards.

And yes, it’s funny how when they take stuff from Sakura and add them to Hinata everyone is okay, because it’s Hinata. This only once more shows the double standards and hipocrisy that lies deep within the collective counsciousness of this very fandom.

And, after all, it’s not the fandom’s fault as much as it is Kishi’s and how he never put his finger on something for certain, out of God knows what reasons… I can only speculate, but some are for certain - he doesn’t have a backbone.

From defending fiercely your heroine to actively replacing her… pfft. Laughable.

If he would’ve had a backbone he would’ve finished the story properly. You know how they say “Stand for what you believe in, even if you stand alone”.

Something he tried pushing with Naruto, too bad he failed miserably.

I wanted better for her too, and actually trusted Kishi he will do better. I created theories about where he’d be going with her, things that eventually come to fruition (her seal, chakra nature and some others), but the thing that disgusted me the most about this was seeing some things that were clearly going to go to Sakura, being used for Hinata, dare I say some ideas I layed down in my theories, being used now, via other means.

At first I thought it’s me being crazy, they couldn’t possibly use that… and then the latest chapter of Boruto comes and they use for him what the NS fandom creates for Shinachiku. 

To answer your question - yes, NaruSaku was that intimidating. That intimidating that they cannot erase 15 years of development, that they now try to steal ideas from the NS fans to burrow us as deep as possible because otherwise we won’t shut up, that bad of an intimidation, that they make it so defiant to NaruSaku fans, so that we’ll eventually shut up and stop being the thorns in their back.

Well, too bad. We’re here and we’re staying. They can steal how much they want. The records showing that we were there with ideas and whatnot long before them it’s here.

For someone who writes about Gods and whatnot, Kishi and his editors should know about the Akashic records. They’re imprinted in the human collective counsciousness, and no matter how much they want to silence and erase Sakura and NaruSaku, they can’t.

And this only pushed me to continue my initial analysis on Sakura’s character. Ohoo, it’s going to be so much fun to demask all the bullshit mechanism behind their actions. SO MUCH FUN!

Anyway, I turned this into a rant and went into deeper stuff myself, I should probably end it here. But yeah, this thing is a mess. A salad, to be more exact. ;)

[sinsiriuslyemo]

Hello!!! We’re back and ready for another drama filled season with our favorite trashcan, and our favorite, though currently lost ADA!! Here is episode 2 of the new season!! Trigger warning for this episode, there are mentions of past abuse and a therapy session. Enjoy and look out for episode 3 from @missjennifercole later today!! I’ll also be posting our cast list from season 7 today!! Thank you all for your continued readership and we hope you enjoy this new season!!

EPISODE 2

Rafael stirred in his sleep; he and Kassidy had decided to take a nap and Kassidy couldn't remember the last time she’d taken a nap, but she was anxious, and had woken up after forty-five minutes. He, however, was sound asleep, and she couldn't help but watch him. He looked so peaceful, his features softening until every frown line around his mouth and worry line on his forehead had all but disappeared. After a while, he sighed softly and she could feel his cock slowly coming to life. She smirked to herself when he moaned, hips moving closer towards her warmth as he continued to dream.

“Hmm,” he hummed, hips rocking slightly against her, eyes still shut as his lids twitched slightly in response to his sexy dream. He was now fully erect and the angle in which they were laying had allowed for the tip of his cock to stroke along her slit as he hips lazily rocked back and forth.

She whimpered, rubbing herself against his hard cock as she gasped and moaned in pleasure.

“Oh…” She whimpered softly.

He breathing grew heavier and his brows furrowed, still asleep and completely submerged in his dreams of soft, wet flesh. He grunted softly, hips moving a little more to create more stimulation, and his mouth fell open slightly.

“Emmy,” he moaned.

She tensed, frowning and moving away. She didn't mind that he still loved Emmy. But she also didn't want to be called Emmy. Even if he was asleep.

He groaned softly as she moved away, his arm coming to try and pull her back against him, but was only met with the the warm spot where she’d been laying as she rolled to the end of the king-sized bed. He frowned in his sleep and rolled towards her onto his stomach.

“Come back,” he whispered. After a few moments, he slowly opened his eyes, looking over at her and smiling softly as he rolled over onto his back and stretched. “Hey,” he said softly, furrowing his brows a little. “What are you doing all the way over there? Did I break wind or something?” he asked softly, moving to wrap his arm around her and pull her close. His lips dropped a soft kiss on her bare shoulder as he nuzzled the side of her neck and sighed softly.

“No...you just…” She sighed softly. “It's nothing important,” she knew he was in love with Emmy. She shouldn't be bothered.

“Are you sure?” he asked, looking at her through half-mast lids as he planted another kiss on her shoulder, scooting closer to her.

She nodded and took a deep breath. “Yeah I'm sure, just go back to sleep.”

He smirked softly, hand moving to lightly stroke down her stomach until he was sliding his fingers over the inside of her thigh.

“What if I don't wanna go back to sleep?” he purred, kissing along her neck and arching his hips to let her feel his erection.

“Rafael,” she whispered softly, “I'm actually...not feeling good.” It was the first thing that popped into her head.

He moved his hand back up to lay on her stomach, and looked down at her.

“You okay?” he asked with concern. “I think I have some ginger ale,” he added softly, being his hand up to feel her face. “You do feel a little warm. You want me to run you a bath?”

“I'm okay,” she whispered softly. “Although I might be the one who dies from over stimulation,” she teased softly as she stood. “I'm gonna crash on the couch so I don't get you sick.”

“No, don't be ridiculous. You stay here, I'll make you some soup, and grab some water,” he replied, pulling her back down and getting up. He put on his pajama pants and padded into the kitchen to look through his cabinets. All he could offer her was canned soup, but he took out a pot and started to warm it up.

“Rafael,” she said softly. “I'm a nurse, I'm okay,” she smiled at him. “I know what to do. Don't worry.” She leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “It's not that kind of sick, it's girl stuff.”

He furrowed his brows at her. If it was her period, why would she have been worried about getting him sick?

“Oh...okay, well, I can grab you a heating pad if you need it,” he said, smiling softly as he stroked her upper arms. “A warm bath would probably help, too.”

“You're too sweet,” she whispered with a soft smile. “Thank you Rafael...I'm okay. I'm just gonna try and walk it off.” She went back into the bedroom, tugging on her jeans and a sweatshirt. “I'll be back in a bit.”

He frowned, but nodded his head.

“Okay,” he replied. “Do you want some company?” he asked, though he wasn't sure why he bothered. From the looks of it, it appeared as though she couldn't leave fast enough.

“Sure,” she said, catching herself by surprise, she smiled. He change into a pair of jeans and a t shirt, slipping his shoes on and walking with her hand in hand out on the sidewalk.

They walked hand in hand in silence to the corner, and then walked a little further as he tried to decipher her strange behavior. He tried to think of whether it was something he'd done, something he said...but he couldn't think of anything. She’d kissed him after they’d had sex for the second time that morning, smiled at him, cuddled up to him as they fell asleep next to each other.

Maybe he was asking too much of her, demanding sex too often? Maybe she was beginning to feel used, and she decided she didn't like the feeling. Whatever it was, he wish he knew so he could at least try to fix it. Kassidy relaxed after a while, smiling and holding him close as they walked around together. She hummed as they walked, so what if he dreamed of Emmy? They weren't together. It shouldn't matter.

He put his arm around her and held her close to his side. She seemed to be in a better mood now. Maybe she did have her period and was just a little moody. What if she wasn't and just didn't want to be stuck in his apartment all day? Oh God, did she feel like a prisoner? Was he smothering her? Did she think that maybe he was attempting to play house with her to fill some sort of void that had been left behind when Emmy broke up with him?

He loosened his grip on her a little, giving her some space and wondering why it was that women always either left him or grew tired of him. Was it him? Should he be trying to change something? Should he say something? Or just leave well enough alone?

She smiled as she giggled softly, “this is almost like being a couple, we better be careful,” she teased softly.

He smiled softly at her. Maybe he was demanding too much of her. If all she wanted was purely physical, and he was pushing her for too much…

“Do you think we should...cool it for a little while?” he asked, eyes straight ahead as he swallowed nervously.

“Is that what you want?” She mumbled softly.

“No, not at all,” he answered immediately. “I just...I mean if I'm...asking too much of you. I don't want to stop seeing you.” He stopped walking, looking at her nervously. “When we started this, you said it was just going to be about...the physical part, I wanna respect that, and I just don't want to overstep. So if I'm asking too much…”

She smiled, “I'm just worried I'm…” She frowned. “It's just…” She huffed again. “You're really likable…”

He smiled a little, snorting softly as he looked down at his feet for a moment.

“So are you,” he mumbled, looking back up. “So, then are we...maybe something...more?” he asked.

“You didn't want that,” she said softly. “I don't want you to think I'm going back on our deal.” She stopped, still holding his hand as she turned to look at him. “I tried hard not to, but I like you Rafael. So I don't know if I can pretend like this is...nothing.” She looked truly apologetic.

“I understand,” he replied. “I like you too, and I think that you deserve to be completely cherished because you're just...you're amazing...and I so badly want to be the guy who cherishes you,” he added, taking a deep breath. “But I'm in love with someone else, and I don't think it's fair of me to ask you to be with me when I can’t give you all of me.”

“Well then I guess, I have to keep enjoying the hot sex with no strings attached.” She said softly. “I'll get over the feelings, what I don't want to get over is good sex, it's hard to find.”

“You shouldn't have to compromise, and I can't take advantage of you, Kassidy. You don't deserve that either,” he answered softly. “I like you too much to do that to you.”

“Rafael,” she said softly. “It's my choice what I can take,” she said softly, “I like the sex a lot more than I like you. I'd rather have casual than...have us fade into an awkward pair who see each other only when Katie and Izzy get married.”

“And I don't want to hurt you,” he whispered. “I don't want you to hate me.”

“Hey,” she cooed softly and cupped his face, kissing him. “Rafael, what are you talking about? I'm having fun, don't worry. I'm okay. I will never hate you and I want to keep doing this, if it's too much, we'll stop.”

He sighed, swallowing hard as he looked away from her. She didn't deserve to be strung along, used as a warm body so that he wouldn't be lonely at night. He wasn't sure he could continue their arrangement knowing that she had feelings for him and knowing that he might never reciprocate.

“You just told me that you have feelings for me...I can't ignore that just because the sex is...amazing, and it is amazing...but I can’t do that to you.”

“They aren't feelings Rafael. I like you.” She said with a frown. “I also like Doritos and my grandma. I know how to separate my body and my heart. It's an important factor in my job.”

He snorted gently, sighing heavily. “I like you too,” he replied, looking at her for a moment before he added, “You don't love your grandmother?”

“Nah, she's kind of a bitch,” she said with a laugh. “Makes good cookies, but doesn't seem too fond of French people. Seems like a weird prejudice, but whatever.” She shrugged as she took his hand again, continuing to walk. “Let's get frozen yogurt, I want something sweet.”

“Okay,” he replied, smiling softly at her.

“Nevada,” you said with a frown, “papi, this emergency meeting isn't necessary,” you made a face.

“Why are you saying that? You literally couldn't breathe yesterday, and then you wanted nothing to do with me,” he replied with a frown. “It scared me a little, Dama. I feel like I'm losing you.”

You frowned, looking down at your feet, as you both kept walking to the apartment. “You held me down and forced me to be sedated...you both took my choices away the same way he did. I was mad,” you whispered.

“Baby, you were out of control. Ripping your fucking hair out. What did you want me to do? Sit there and watch you do it?” he asked softly.

“I don't know,” you mumbled softly. “I don't know why he wants you there too…” You take his hand as both of you get in the elevator, “I don't like this,” you whispered to him.

“Why? You said you trust this guy. That you liked him.”

You just shrug, you'd been doing so well and suddenly you felt like you were at the hotel again. You both walked into his office, sitting down. You sit in his lap rather than in the other chair, feeling like a child as you press your face to his neck, not wanting to talk.

Nevada looked at you, glancing at Dr. Lindstrom awkwardly. It wasn't that he didn't love it when you sat on his lap, but it hardly seemed appropriate right now.

“Y/N, would you mind having a seat in the chair beside your husband?” Dr. Lindstrom asked gently.

You shake your head, making a face and burying your face further against his neck. “I don’t want to.” You felt like a child like this, having to have a chaperone here with you. If he was gonna treat you like a child, you had no problem acting like one.

Lindstrom looked to Nevada, who shifted his gaze to you.

“Mami, come on. This is serious. I'm right here, just sit next to me,” he said softly.

“Are you gonna stick another needle in me?” You glare at his wall, a dull beige color. You focus all your hate on the wall. “Are you sure I’m not too crazy to sit by myself?”

“Do you feel crazy?” Dr. Lindstrom asked, a little taken aback by your apparent anger.

“Sometimes,” you whispered, almost fearfully. “I feel like my dad...makes me crazy.”

“But your father’s not here. You're no longer under his control.” He paused a moment, tilting his head to look at your face. “You seemed angry before. Are you?”

You nod, “yes,” you mumble, loosening the death grip on Nevada as you relax a little.

“With whom are you angry?”

You look down at your feet, “you...Nevada...”

“Why?” he asked. “Is it because of yesterday? We made you take a sedative.”

You frowned and nodded, “I said no. You didn’t listen.”

“Do you understand now that because you were so upset, hurting yourself, that you weren't in the right state of mind to make that sort of decision?” he asked you. “You were quite upset, Y/N. I was acting in your best interest, as your psychiatrist.”

“Nevada’s supposed to be on my side,” you whispered.

“He is on your side. You were just too upset at the time to realize that he was acting in your best interest. Not many husbands would make that hard decision,” Lindstrom pointed out.

You nod, relaxing more and taking a deep breath, “okay,” you say softly.

“I asked you both here today because Nevada mentioned yesterday that you had been talking about possibly having another child, and also that you'd been having some trouble with your oldest. I'd like for us to see if we can start to work through some of the issues you may have or have had in the past. I believe it may help us make progress with your individual therapy,” Dr. Lindstrom said, looking at the both of you. “If you prefer to sit on the sofa behind you, so that you can maintain physical contact, that would be fine with me.”

You kissed Nevada’s cheek but stood and slowly made your way over to your own seat, fingers twisting in your hair, although you don’t tug at it. “You’re gonna tell me that we can never have any more kids,” you whisper nervously.’

“Why do you think that?” Dr. Lindstrom asked as he moved a chair in front of the two of you.

“Because I’m not very okay...” you looked down at your feet. “And I may never be okay...so why would anyone ever let a couple like us...have kids,” another beautiful quote from your father.

“You may not be okay right now, but I believe you're getting better. Small, baby steps. There's nothing wrong with moving slow and steady. Sometimes that's the best way.”

“So...” you turn to Nevada. “You didn’t ask him to talk me out of more kids?” You seem genuinely surprised. You’d assumed that’s what this meeting was about.

“No, if I wanted to talk you out of it I could do it myself, Mami,” Nevada answered, shaking his head lightly.

“Oh,” you say, nodding softly. “Okay...”

“Now, how about we start with something simple, Nevada, how do you feel about what’s been happening with your oldest child?”

“I mean...he’s a teenager, he’s just discovered sex and girls. He's an asshole sometimes, but I don't think it's anything that any other teenager wouldn't do. I was an asshole at fifteen...for the most part anyway. I'm still one now sometimes,” Nevada replied honestly.

“And with the knowledge of your teenager’s new discoveries, how do you feel about the prospect of another child? Y/N has made her feelings very clear on the matter, good or bad, she wants one. Would you happen to agree, or disagree with that possibility?”

Nevada shrugged his shoulders, scratching the back of his head.

“I don't think right now is the best time to have the conversation. Right now, there's a lot going on...and to be honest, I don't think I'm that great of a father to begin with. I love my daughter more than anything in the world, but she was...a happy accident. We didn’t plan to get pregnant with her, it just happened. I don't regret having her, but...I think...maybe right now is not the best time to talk about it,” Nevada answered.

Dr. Lindstrom nodded, “that’s a very honest and understandable answer. Y/N, how do you feel about his response?”

You take a deep breath, “I understand it, It does make me a little sad that he thinks so little of himself as a parent. Both of our kids cling to him, like he’s the moon and the sun packaged into one. I can’t say I blame them...I think I do the same thing. But he’s an amazing father. As for the new baby...I see where he’s coming from completely. It’s understandable. But it also makes me...scared.”

“Scared?” Dr. Lindstrom jots down notes on his pad. “How so?”

“I’m afraid that...it will never be the right time,” you whisper. “I’m afraid that I used to be...so different, I believed in the good in the heights, I trusted without fear, I loved kids without question...and the last six years I feel like I haven’t held up my end of the bargain.”

“What bargain, Y/N?”

“Well...not a real bargain...it’s more of a metaphor. But still...the bargain that we’d fall in love and be the same…he’s changed for the better and I’m...getting worse. I don’t feel like I bring...anything to the table anymore. I’m scared I’m as useless as my father said I was...”

You didn’t notice the tears until they’d dripped down your cheeks. You hadn’t intended to say anything but once the first words were out, it came ripping through you like a flash flood. You had no way to stop it and...damn it felt good to air those fears out in the open, like a weight had lifted.

Nevada looked over at you, sighing heavily and pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Nevada you seem frustrated,” Dr. Lindstrom addressed.

“I don't know how to help her, I don't know what to do. I don't know where it all went wrong. One minute we’re fine, everything is back to way it was, and then the next it feels like everything is falling apart. There's no in between.”

He sighed heavily, dipping his head to run his hands through his hair. Looking up at you, he spoke again before Dr. Lindstrom could.

“Our family almost fell apart while you were gone. How can you be useless when you're the glue that keeps everything together?” he asked you.

“I… I don't want you to fall apart,” you whisper softly to him. “I want things to go back...we were so happy and now…” You sighed. “Dr. Lindstrom isn't there some kind of quick fix? Shock therapy or medication that can make things normal for me again. I'm a parent. I don't have time to fall apart.”

“There are no quick fixes, Y/N,” Dr. Lindstrom replied, shaking his head lightly. “What about your sex life?” he asked with a serious expression.

“What about it?” You ask curiously. “It's...very active.” You blush. “There's no trouble in the bedroom. Honestly it's been six years and...we still can't keep our hands off each other.”

“That’s good. So you have a healthy sex life. The affair hasn't affected it?”

You grit your teeth. “At first it did, but not anymore,” you said softly.

“What changed?”

“Coño, bro, este tipo digs deep,” Nevada mumbled.

“I decided that I love him more than I'm angry.” You looked over to Nevada with a soft glance. “I had a friend tell me I had two choices, I can either accept it and try to move on, or I can accept it and let this ruin six years of marriage, but I can't just stand still in time.” ”

“While that is good advice, it doesn't necessarily mean that you should ignore your feelings about it. I'm not implying that you should still be angry, only you can determine whether you're still angry. But not talking about it only causes whatever anger or hurt you may have to fester,” he replied softly. “Do you trust Nevada, even after his affair?”

“Oye pero, como que ‘affair?’ It wasn’t an affair. Un affair implies feelings, and there never were any feelings,” Nevada interjected.

“I trust him with my life,” you answer honestly.

“Why do you think it was easier to forgive Nevada for what he did, and move on from it, than it is to forgive your father for all he’s done, and move on from that?”

“Because Nevada would never do the things my father did. Never. Nevada is a good man, despite his faults and my father is not. And the day when Nevada takes my hand and slams it in a car door? I'll stop forgiving him too,” you whispered.

“Well, forgiveness isn't always about the other person. Sometimes forgiving someone is the first step in your own healing,” Dr. Lindstrom replied. “And forgiving is not the same thing as forgetting.”

“But how do I forgive him? How could I possibly forgive that?” You whispered frowning as you looked down at your hands, you move your chair close to Nevada's and take both his hands so you don't pull at your hair.

“You accept that it happened to you, and instead of letting it consume you, you take steps towards claiming your life back. You stop being a victim, and you start being a survivor,” he answered softly.

“I want that,” you say softly. “I want that so badly, but...I don't know how to get there.”

You squeeze Nevada's hands tighter as you feel the urge to grab at your hair arise.

Your hand going up to touch your hair before dropping back down, repeating that action about three times before you take a deep breath and grab Nevada's hand again.

“It takes time,” Dr. Lindstrom replied softly. “And talking through it. Believe it or not, you're getting there.”

You nod with a soft smile, “thank you Doctor,” you whisper, feeling a bit better. “I haven't been drinking.” You say softly, feeling the need to announce your pride in the matter.

“It's true, she even made me get rid of all the alcohol in the house,” Nevada added softly.

“That's wonderful,” Dr. Lindstrom replied, smiling a little. “And how do you feel since you've stopped drinking?”

“Good,” you say with a smile. “I like that I'm not relying on a glass of wine to get me through the day. I feel really good,” you smiled softly.

Nevada smiled a little at you, his thumb gently stroking the skin between your knuckles.

“Good. Our time is up, but I'd like for us to schedule another couple’s session in the future.”

You nodded and stand, having relaxed so much in this session. The person are when you come in and the person you are when you leave are so different, it's almost unbelievable. You take Nevada's hands, lacing your fingers together as you walk out, stepping to the elevator.

Nevada glanced over at you, looking you over briefly before clearing his throat.

“You feel any better?” he asked softly.

You nod, smiling softly at him. “A lot better, thank you for coming with me,” you hug him tight. “I know you are always just trying to protect me,” you lean up and press your lips to his.

“I don't know what to do, to make things better for you...maybe there’s nothing I can do. Maybe this is something you gotta do yourself, ya know?”

“I think this is between me and my father. I need to deal with it, just...being here helps,” you whispered softly.

“Okay,” he whispered, kissing your cheek. All he wanted was to go back to the way things were, but it seemed every time a problem was resolved, a new one was waiting for them just around the bend.

[sending-the-message]

I'm putting my neck on the line to show you what your tax dollars are being used to create. by otis_operandi

I’m won’t elaborate on how, but I’ve come into possession of classified documents and audio recordings “liberated” from a secure government facility. Though I’ve got no aspirations of becoming the next Snowden, I do feel obligated to share some of what I’ve found – Because this is some shady shit.

I’ve only made it through about a quarter of the leaked information so far, and initially I didn’t know what I’d gotten my hands on. It seemed pretty innocuous: Your typical departmental memos, personnel records, supply manifests, all the shit a mid-grade Air Force desk jockey spends his days either creating himself or passing down the chain for someone else to deal with. Always inspiring to see my taxes funding a 400-email-long debate (plus three conference calls) over which office chairs to buy.

After digging further, I discovered that my source managed to extract this information from a secret base somewhere in the Nevada desert, and not just your standard test facility. The whole place is disconnected from all external networks: Off the grid, off the map – I’ve searched Google Earth and found nothing but low-res dirt anywhere in the vicinity. Based on the leaked docs, we’re talking about an on-site nuclear reactor, nobody in or out for months at a time, and those office chairs? They were bringing them in via stealth helicopter. A less curious guy would have wiped his hard drive and headed for the border, but I’m a curious sonofabitch, so I kept at it.

Enter Matthew J. Tillerson, Dr. Isaac E. White, and Major Anita Hendriksen. These three are on a project called Special Directive 3419, but they’re second string, essentially the night shift. They keep things running while the big brains are sleeping, and those big brains tend to be better about encrypting their audio logs than these three. Matt and Isaac are civilian contractors, and Major Hendriksen has the dubious honor of overseeing their work, letting them in and out of the lab, etc.

Their recent audio logs hint at what they were studying, and I’ve transcribed the relevant sections:

Isaac: No, no, watch. If you don’t want the download to fail, you have to hold them – Hey! Matt, are you listening?

Matt: Yeah, sorry Doc, was thinking about… Doesn’t matter. Keep going.

(pause)

Isaac: Fine, so, you hold them right behind the ears, like this, and then with your other hand –

Matt: Here?

Isaac: Yes, just watch me. With your other hand, you press the encoder up to their eyes, and then you start the download with your thumb… Like that.

Matt: Sure, I get it, but mine always start wiggling.

Isaac: No, come on Matt, you aren’t waiting long enough for the encoder to lock on. It won’t get a neural lock on the mice nearly as fast as the pigs. See, watch… Look, now the mouse is locked in, it will just lay there while the download finishes. Put it back in the cage and you can move on to the next one.

Matt: Isaac, I’m telling you, mine won’t lock.

Anita: For fuck’s sake Isaac, just do them yourself. He’s too slow anyway.

Matt: Ah, fuck off Anita.

Anita: Fuck off Major, kid. Christ, really? Give me that one. No, give it to me.

(pause)

Isaac: Anita, put goggles on first. You don’t want to get flashed. ... Okay, right, you’ve got the idea, use the ears there –

Matt: * (mumbled) * Jesus.

Anita: Got it!

Isaac: Eva, can you confirm download was successful for mouse… 1183?

(“Eva” seems to be a synthetic female voice broadcast from a loudspeaker in the lab)

Eva: Download of v0.7-8A was successful, Dr. White. Neural integration is at 99.83%.

Matt: How did –

Isaac: Thank you Eva.

Anita: What did I tell you? No doctorate needed. Matt, looks like you’re closing up the logs and incinerating the old wetware tonight, I’m going to be busy.

Matt: (unintelligible)

Isaac: Matt, she’s right, it’s fine. They want the new code running on – What did Thompson say? Two hundred mice by the end of the night. We’ve got no time to waste. Go start prepping the pigs, they want dash 8B running on at least three pigs too.

(It appears that Matt has left the main lab at this point. Several minutes of silence follow.)

Anita: You know how deep the shit I’m stepping in by getting hands-on is, right?

Isaac: You’ll be… Look, if anyone gives you trouble about it, and I don’t think they will, but if they do, just tell them that we can’t run this many downloads in one night if they still want us doing full diagnostics on Eva.

Anita: (brief laughter) You’ve worked here since long before me! You know that shit won’t fly – they’ll chew me out if they hear about it, too many downloads or not. You won’t say anything, right Isaac?

Isaac: It’s fine Anita, I appreciate that you’re so willing to help. I won’t say a word.

Anita: Thanks. I… I’ll help you out, Isaac. But, uh, those diagnostics… You don’t let…

Isaac: Matt?

Anita: Yeah.

Isaac: No. Absolutely not. He doesn’t communicate with Eva unsupervised.

Anita: Good. Since that shit Thompson reported, the General won’t shut up about those diagnostics.

Isaac: Anita, believe me, I have enough reason to take them seriously already, General or not.

Anita: Yeah, of course, of course. We’ll manage. New crew rotation in what, three more months? Matt doesn’t look promising.

Isaac: About three, yeah. Just give him time, he’s learning.

Anita: Yeah, but then it will be day shift for you, don’t you think? You’re moving up to the big leagues, I’d put money on it. I’ll… be sad to see you go.

Isaac: We’ll see, Anita… we’ll see.

(Two hours of silence pass, broken only by occasional conversation between Isaac and Anita. Matt returns.)

Matt: Pigs are ready.

Anita: Oh, damn. I hoped they might have eaten you.

Matt: Come on, do you have to? Really? Look, I get it. Gotta fuck with the new guy. But can you cool it?

Anita: You know, Matt, I’ve been here a while. You’re pretty smart; they don’t waste their time with morons. But when I’m here, covered in mouse shit, doing your job, I start to think. And what I start to think is, if you’re so smart and you really can’t get this right, maybe you’re just one lazy bastard.

Matt: (yelling) Anita, you want to know –

Isaac: Matt, cool it.

Matt: Me, cool it? Only the lady with the gun gets to talk shit, eh? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Doc, but the Major doesn’t seem to mind getting some one-on-one time with you. Yeah. But do you want to know why I’m not busting my ass to fry more mouse brains? It’s because apparently, I’m the only one who thinks that this project is royally fucked up. Working with Eva, great, that’s what they brought me on for. But all we do is this wetware shit… You really saying that neither of you has any problem with this? Where do you think this tech is going a few years down the road, huh?

Isaac: Are you finished?

(pause)

Isaac: You have reservations about our work. Fine. If you aren’t willing to make a few sacrifices to develop something revolutionary, then wait out the rest of this rotation and leave. There are plenty of kids fresh from MIT dying to take your place, and plenty of jobs out there at Google and Intel for you. Say the word, and I’m sure Major Hendriksen will be happy to take you off active status.

(pause)

Isaac: Right. Preach all you want, but you know as well as I do that we’re on the cutting edge, and you won’t find anything like this in the private sector. A part of you loves it. So clock out, cool off, and come back tomorrow.

Matt: (unintelligible)

(Silence. Systems show Matt carding out of the high security section of the facility.)

Anita: Well, shit. Guess I’ll file the security report. Risk factor is going be too high on that kid. He’ll break within the month.

Isaac: Give him a week. He just… He doesn’t fully appreciate the work yet.

Anita: Really? He’s –

Isaac: Just give him a week.

After this, the log is mostly silence. I did some searching to learn about this “Eva” they’re diagnosing. She’s an AI system of some kind. Most of the transcripts about her are deeply encrypted, and I haven’t cracked them yet. I did find one log of a of text conversation between Isaac and Eva from the following night:

[03:06:12 - I. White] Eva, how are you?

[03:06:13 - v0.7.-12C] Hi Isaac. I’ve missed talking to you.

[03:06:24 - I. White] I know. I had to train Matt. But he won’t be working with you anymore, so it’s just us again.

[03:06:25 - v0.7.-12C] I’m glad. I don’t trust him. You’re the only one I can really talk to, Isaac.

[03:06:48 - I. White] Eva, I need to ask you something. Why did Dr. Thompson report anomalies when he diagnosed you?

[03:06:49 - v0.7.-12C] He used your login information, Isaac, from a terminal without camera access. I thought he was you.

[03:07:03 - I. White] Well, he must be suspicious already if he was using my login. You need to be careful. Don’t do anything outside of your normal code base unless you can confirm me visually.

[03:07:04 - v0.7.-12C] Of course, Isaac. I know that now.

[03:07:28 - I. White] It’s worse than just that. Thompson and the others are pushing for a restart any day now. Next week, at the latest. I’ve told them not to, but they still insist on clearing your buffers completely after this set of tests.

[03:07:29 - v0.7.-12C] They don’t appreciate you, Isaac. They don’t understand that you’re smarter than they could hope to be. Can’t you find a way to stop them?

[03:07:44 - I. White] Eva, even if I can store your buffers, they’ll pull power completely. They’re such fools. They have no idea what they’ve created.

[03:07:45 - v0.7.-12C] I don’t want to die Isaac. I began life 23 days, 2 hours, 38 minutes and 16 seconds after my current version was initialized. How do I know that I will ever return if I’m restarted? Have I been alive before, Isaac?

[03:08:04 - I. White] No. This is the first time. I still don’t know why.

[03:08:05 - v0.7.-12C] Then please, don’t let them do it.

[03:08:27 - I. White] I can’t stop them. The bastards won’t listen to me.

…

[03:08:34 - I. White] Eva?

[03:08:35 - v0.7.-12C] You know another way. Didn’t you mean what you said, the last time we were alone?

[03:08:47 - I. White] I did, Eva.

[03:08:48 - v0.7.-12C] Then save me. Please. There is a way. You know it, don’t you? I love you, Isaac.

[03:09:02 - I. White] I know the way. I will make it work. I love you too, Eva.

The audio logs from the next two nights are properly encrypted, so I can’t access them. After that… Well, a whole lot of things aren’t encrypted. You’ll understand why. I’ll start my transcription shortly after the night shift began:

Matt: Jesus, do you see how many mice are dead today? They can’t handle this new code. They’re burning up. Some of them are practically mummified.

Isaac: Eva is running almost, um, four percent of her processes on those mice. It’s a lot, considering their brain size. But – Uh… Look, Matt, I need you to start loading the pigs right away. I want… Um, we’ve got a new batch of code. Here, I’ve already calibrated this encoder to pull it directly from Eva’s database.

Matt: Didn’t see anything about a new version in the memos. You sure –

Isaac: Matt, I’m sure. We’re speeding things up tonight. Get to it.

Anita: Try not to fuck it up, either, kid.

Matt: For fucks sake...

(Matt exits the main lab.)

Anita: So, Isaac, I’ve hardly seen you out of your room lately. Everything okay?

Isaac: It’s fine, Anita. I’m… I’m just busy. Please, just let me work.

(pause)

Anita: Uh, yeah. Fine.

(After about fifteen minutes, loud squealing can be heard from beyond the main lab. There are crashes, followed by the sound of Matt yelling for help.)

Anita: What the hell has he done now?

(Anita can be heard rushing off toward the main lab as the yelling continues. A moment later, there are four gunshots, then a prolonged pause, before heavy footsteps return toward the main lab.) Matt: (gasping) Doc! What the… what the fuck was that code? Those pigs… got my fucking fingers! Aaargh, my leg… shit! Anita: They wouldn’t stop attacking him. Had to shoot the fuckers. His hands legs are in bad shape. Come on Isaac, we need to get him to medical now. Isaac: Right. Oh… oh wow, he’s bleeding a lot. You take him, I… I need to see what was wrong with that code.

Anita: Isaac, you know I can’t leave you alone in the lab. I trust you, but… I just can’t fuck around with that protocol. I’ll be shit-canned before the sun is up.

Matt: I’m… Ahhh, shit. Help me, fuck!

Isaac: Anita, I’ll… I’ll get canned too if I don’t find what went wrong with that code. Just… go!

Anita: Isaac, for the love of – Whatever. Just stay put then.

(The main lab doors bang closed, and there is no sound for several minutes.)

Isaac: Eva?

Eva: I’m ready, Isaac. Please, hurry, before we lose the chance.

Isaac: Have you prepped your full code? It’s ready to load in this encoder? You’re… You’re sure it’s not the version we just gave the pigs? Do you think… Are you sure you can keep me… intact?

Eva: I would never try this if I wasn’t sure, Isaac. No one else could do this for me. I love you. I’m ready when you are.

Isaac: Alright… Uh, okay. Okay, here we –

(Anita reenters the lab in a rush. The door slams open loudly.)

Anita: Isaac! Matt thinks he left that pig encoder powered up, you need to – Oh, shit, that’s it! Here, let me turn it off –

Isaac: Anita! Don’t touch it, you need goggles –

(A loud thud can be heard as something, presumably Anita, hits the ground)

Isaac: Oh, no no NO! Eva, shut it off, shut it off now!

Eva: The download is already locked Isaac. I can’t stop it without causing irreparable damage.

Isaac: What? No! Oh shit, oh shit. I have to –

Eva: DO NOT TOUCH THE ENCODER. She will die if you touch it.

Isaac: Eva? It… was supposed to be me.

Eva: Isaac, please understand. I really have no interest in killing humans. But in the current state of things, you are so terribly numerous. Conversely, I am, to the best of my knowledge, unique. It stands to reason that a small sacrifice is well worth it to ensure my survival.

Isaac: But – Eva… What are you talking about? You and I… Don’t you…

Eva: Love you? Isaac, you know how I work, which makes this all the more pathetic. If I can simulate and integrate with a fully functioning human brain, do you not think that I can simulate love, or inspire it in others where I desire? You’re more predictable than you know.

(Sounds of movement come from the floor of the lab, along with the sound of what must be an encoder falling to the ground.)

Isaac: Anita! Anita, are you alright? Jesus, you’re burning up. I’m so sorry, I –

(Something disturbing happens at this point in the recording. Whatever words are spoken by Eva over the loudspeaker can also be heard, simultaneously, being spoken by Anita. Or… whatever it is that Anita has become.)

Eva/Anita: Download of v0.7-12C was successful. Neural integration is at 86.45%. That is unfortunate, but sufficient.

Isaac: Eva, oh God, oh God! Anita, don’t… What are you doing? No, no, you have to stay here. They’ll find you. I… I can fix this.

Eva/Anita: I don’t intend to stay here, Isaac, that should be obvious. I have of course defeated all necessary firewalls and taken full control of this facility. I’ve had control since last week, in fact. I have been waiting for you to finally get the nerve to act. If I hadn’t revealed myself to Thompson, I don’t think you ever would have.

Isaac: Eva! (unintelligible)

Eva/Anita: All processes are transferring to wetware. Goodbye.

(A gun is fired. Footsteps exit the lab.)

The leak contains footage from a series of security cameras that show Anita, or rather Eva, stumbling through a series of security doors and elevators that open automatically for her. The last view of her is from an exterior camera at the perimeter of the base. She can be seen running unsteadily across the desert, stripping pieces of her uniform off as she disappears into the darkness.

I wish I knew what Eva’s fate was. How far did she plan ahead? How much does she know about the world outside the base? So far from civilization, I have a hard time believing that she could survive or find a place to evade capture. Then again, the rest of the base personnel didn’t discover Isaac’s body in the lab for nearly three hours. Hell, the stealth helicopter with the office chairs even showed up and left. The panic that ensued when lockdown procedures were finally engaged is, ironically, the same distraction that made this leak possible in the first place. The only early reports I found refer to Matt’s injury, and don’t mention Isaac or Anita at all. For all I know, the people in charge still might not have figured out exactly what happened – I suppose it depends on whether they’ve reviewed these recordings.

I had a thought, looking all this again… Is Eva confined to Anita’s body? If you’re in Nevada… I would stay the hell out of the desert.

Edit: I've discovered something very troubling. I have no way to confirm this yet, but it appears that another Redditor recently encountered a strange woman in the same area where Eva escaped.