#she gave us a project and we have to study parts of our race

[1-800-simping]

the way i’m in a love-hate relationship with my history teacher rn 😍😍

[adarlingwrites]

Leave it to the Wind

Summary: Between deadlines, an awful transport system, and aswangs lurking about in the shadows, you have much to worry about as a college student in Manila, and it's so much that your social life is practically dead. Your wind people roommates want to help you remedy that.

Words: 9343

Relationships: The Kambal/Reader (Crispin/Reader/Basilio)

Warnings: Adult content, alcohol, brief scene of sexual harassment

Author’s Notes: God, the fandom is so thirsty for the Kambal, and so am I. Finally, some Filipino himbo representation.

The premise is: Hannah and Amie decides to play matchmaker. Hilarity ensues. Smut ensues. Please be nice, I based the characterizations of the character on the Netflix series and Trese wiki pages since I couldn't get my hands on the original comics yet oof. Some words, like terms of endearment and curse words, will remain in Filipino. Translations are provided. Reader is AFAB and is referred to with female pronouns.

Reposting this from AO3 with all three chapters in one post. A Filipino (Taglish) translation is in the works!

I

You don’t know how they managed to convince you, to be honest.

You rarely ever go out at night anymore. So many strange incidents transpire in Manila’s narrow streets. Just recently, you’ve heard of a new story about a tikbalang who allegedly participated in illegal street races.

So when your roommates and friends Amie and Hannah invited you for a night out, you hesitated. You gave them every excuse you can think of; you needed to do laundry, you needed to study, you needed to finish a project, and so on.

You know that the two of them are wind people, but you can’t help but think. Which of the various stories you had been hearing are real? What else in this world you haven’t witnessed yet?

“Aw, you’re such a buzzkill! Pretty please? You don’t go out with us as often. Enjoy yourself a little,” Amie whines, lying on the sofa of your living room.

On the other hand, Hannah turns to you with a mischievous grin on her face. “C’mon, get dressed already,” she commanded. “There are some total hotties we’d like you to meet! One of them might catch your eye!”

“I told you, I don’t need a relationship. You two try this every week. How do you even know so many people?” you retort, laughing softly at yourself.

“Well, our night lives are active,” Hannah retorted. “Don’t forget our sex lives!” the other added. Hearing those words, you felt your face get flushed with heat.

You needed a good fuck.

“Damn it, fine! As long as you pay for me.”

They finally got you to say yes.

As the night went on, you went to several bars, and you swore that you had explored every crevice of the city. It doesn’t help that the guy Amie and Hannah were with, a tall, dark and handsome man with flowing locks of black hair, drove like a demon. You got around quickly in no time.

Around an hour after midnight, you’re all exhausted from a night of dancing and mingling. None of the people your friends introduced to you caught your attention. At that point, you just wanted a stiff drink to unwind.

Voicing it to your drinking buddies, they nod in agreement.

“I know just the place, in Malate,” the man you’re with said. “Quiet. Discreet. I can take you there, if you want.”

“You mean The Diabolical, right? Let’s go! Text Crispin and Basilio, they might be hangin’ there too,” Amie croons.

A chuckle escapes your lips upon hearing their names. “Huh? Were they named after the characters in Jose Rizal’s novel?”

“I think so? Whatever! But seriously though… Those two can totally make you scream their names louder than Sisa ever did! Best lay I ever had!”

The remark made you laugh so hard, you swore you can be heard in the next city. “What the fuck! Amie, gaga ka, Sisa was their mom! The context of that scene was rough.”

Hannah’s mischievous grin spreads on her face once more, and she gently elbows your side. “Well, if you’re lucky, in this context you’d be crying their names while your eyes roll to the back of your head.”

You’ll never admit it, but you had hoped all their teasing would come true.

It didn’t take long for the four of you to reach your destination. As you enter The Diabolical, a strange chill envelopes you. The air feels different inside; it’s almost as if you stepped in a different world. Perhaps it’s the alcohol, but when you looked around, you saw a duwende sitting by the bar. Or was it called a nuno? At the end of the bar, you saw them; two men both dressed in black suits. One has short hair, while the other one has longer, reaching past his shoulders. However, they’re facing away from you. Only the back of their head and part of their cheeks were visible where you stood.

You snapped out of it when the man you three are with spoke up. “I’m gonna call it a night. Have fun, you three.”

“For real? Wow Maliksi, this is the first time I ever saw you wanting to leave early. Aren’t you gonna stop by and say hi to Alex?” Hannah asks him.

“Maybe next time,” Maliksi answers back, a somber expression on his face. “Oh em gee, did you two fight? Wait, what are you two?” Amie asks.

“Whatever. It’s complicated. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Your friends nodded and let Maliksi be. He waves at your group, and heads out the door. The engine of his car roars to life, and his car screeches away.

As the car moved farther away though, it seems that the screeching of the tires turned into hoofbeats.

Perhaps it’s just your imagination.

“Amie! Hannah! Have a drink! Hey, who’s that with you? Is that the person you’ve been wanting us to meet for ages now?”

Your head turns to where the voice was coming from; one of the men in the suits, the one with short hair in particular. You finally had a good look on their faces.

Twins?

“Crispin! Meet our friend! This is…”

As Amie and Hannah introduce you to the Twins, you can’t help but stare. You took the sight of their features in; they’re tall, with broad shoulders, and hard muscle underneath that black suit and white tie ensemble. They have wide noses with a high bridge, prominent bone structure, and a prominent widow’s peak.

Merciful Bathala, they’re gorgeous.

What caught your attention the most are their eyes. They're pitch black, save for the small reflection of light.

Are these people even human?

“Stare at them like that any longer and they might melt,” Amie teases. The two of your friends are giving you an ear-splitting grin due to your reaction to the Twins.

“I, uh-” you stuttered, and you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks.

“Hey, don’t be shy. You can sit between us, miss. We’re all friends here,” the twin with the longer hair says. If the other one is Crispin, then this must be Basilio.

Behind you, your friends are already giggling. They took their places next to the twins and leaned on their biceps. Across from you, the bartender comes to take your order.

“What’ll it be, kid?” he asks.

For some reason, you’re panicking. Maybe it’s because of the alcohol in your system. Or maybe it’s because you’re sandwiched between the twins. “Uh, what would you recommend, manong?”

Laughter erupted from the twins. “Hank, she called you manong!” Basilio teases while grinning like a fucking dog. “Geez, are you really that old?” Crispin eggs him on, giving him a shit-eating grin. Hank takes a wet rag he uses to wipe down the countertop and strikes the two down. “You goddamn assholes!”

You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing with them.

“Ow! Alright, we’re sorry, we’re sorry. Get them the best seller, Hank. We’ll pay for their tab,” Basilio says, and Hannah and Amie squeals with joy.

“Oh em gee, you boys are so sweet! Thank youuu!”

As Hank prepares you a drink, you try conversing with the twins. “You two seem fun to have as drinking buddies.”

Hank turns around to reach a bottle from the shelf. “Those two are mischievous little shits, that’s for sure. You know, when these two were kids...”

“Hey man, don’t embarrass us like that in front of our new friend,” Crispin whines.

While the three continues fucking around, you leaned back slightly to glimpse at Amie, who was trying to get your attention for a while now. She points to her phone, and you fetch yours from your bag.

You read your group chat with them. “Soooo, do you like, like them?” Hannah’s message said.

“You’re into them aren’t you? You got so shy around them, it’s so cute!” Amie’s message said.

“Right? It’s rare to see you so flustered!”

You typed away furiously at your phone, cautious to not let the twins beside you see the conversation.

“Well, they’re an improvement from the ones you introduced me to earlier. Easier on the eyes, too…”

Your friends giggled, and as their drinks arrived, they stood up. “Girl, we’re gonna leave you with them, there’s some super hot tikbalangs who just came in the bar. Byeeee!”

“Hey, wait!”

They didn’t heed your words and went to sit on the tikbalangs’ laps.

Fuck, tikbalangs are real? Is Maliksi a tikbalang too?

“And off they go, flirting with those beasts after they’ve used us for drinks,” Crispin laments, voice dripping with light-hearted sarcasm.

“It’s not like it’s the first time we got used by them though,” Basilio adds, cringing.

You can’t help but laugh.  “Yeah, I’ve heard.”

Basilio’s head whips towards you, sweat gathering on his brow. “Seriously?! Shit, what did they say about us?”

“All good things, don’t you worry,” you answered.

“Nah, I need to hear what they said word for word,” the twin with long hair responds. “This is making me paranoid!”

Crispin moves closer to you, Basilio puts a friendly arm around your shoulder, and you can only smile. All of you are inebriated and if you were sober, and if someone else dared to get this close to you, you might’ve slapped them. But you feel good about the Twins, and your roommates never put you in harm’s way, so your trust for them extended to the brothers, somehow.

“Just tell us already,” Crispin slurs. “Tell us what they said about us. We’re curious.”

“Fine, fine. Okay, Amie and Hannah mentioned your names when Maliksi suggested that we head here to drink. Then, I mentioned that your names came from Rizal’s novels.”

“Then Amie said,” you continued, pausing briefly to come up with an impression of your roommate’s speech. “‘Seriously though… Those two can totally make you scream their names louder than Sisa ever did! Best lay I ever had!’ Fuck, it was so messed up!”

“That’s messed up, alright,” Basilio sputters, his face a deep shade of crimson. “I’m this hot and those are the only details they can spare?!”

“Ok, but that Sisa joke was kind of funny though. But it was still fucked up,” Crispin adds, and he takes a sip of his drink.

“Hold your horses, the story’s not done yet,” you say. You’re starting to feel more confident around the two.

Your conversation went places, until you found yourselves drinking until three in the morning, and at that point, it’s only just the four of you in the bar; Hank, the Twins, and you. Even Hannah and Amie are nowhere to be seen. Knowing them, they probably took the tikbalangs they were flirting with back to your apartment.

They didn’t even wait for you. Looks like they’re really setting you up tonight. Maybe they wanted the apartment to themselves tonight, and they got exactly what they wanted.

You had planned on getting up to go to the restroom, but when you tried standing up, you almost fell from the chair. The Twins caught you before you landed face first against the floor.

“She’s had enough to drink,” Hank comments. They set you on a chair with a backrest. “How will she get home? We can’t send her off in a cab at this rate. The train doesn't run this late either.”

“Hannah left her behind too,” Crispin adds.

“Hey, how are we gonna deal with this?” Basilio asks. “We can get you home once we sober up a little. It’s fine if you-”

Basilio never got to finish what he was going to say, because you nodded off against his stomach, and puked your lunch out.

You don’t remember anything after that.

When you awaken, the sun is already high up, and the first thing that greets you is the fan in the ceiling. Your muscles are screaming at you, and your throat feels dry. Memories of last night came crashing back and you started sweating in horror. Maybe it’s just a drunken dream, but it felt all too real.

You were flirting with these gorgeous twins, had too much to drink, and at some point puked all over one of the twins’ shoes.

And now, you don’t know whose bedroom you are in. You check yourself, and you’re still wearing the same clothes, with nothing out of place. There are no bruises or marks on your body either. You looked around you, but there was no one else in the room.

The doors crack open slightly, and you see two pairs of void-black eyes.

“I… um… good morning?”

“It’s… already 2 in the afternoon,” one of them says. He has long hair. This one is the twin you threw up on.

“Why don’t you have some lunch?” the other one said.

You just nodded and said nothing else, ashamed of yourself. You threw up on one of them and now you’re eating at their table. You just wanted the ground to swallow you alive.

“Sorry for puking on you last night,” you near-whispered to Basilio after you swallowed your first bite of food.

The silence broke when Crispin roared with laughter, tears pooling at the corner of his eyes. Meanwhile, Basilio was glaring daggers at his brother. He’s frowning like a child whose toy got taken from him. “Sure, keep laughing, kuya.”

“I’ll never show my face here again, I promise,” you say to them, hiding your face behind your hands.

“What’re you talking about? Forget about it. We’re friends now, right?” Basilio tells you, smiling. “But next time, vomit on my brother too.”

“No one’s throwing up because I won’t be allowing any of you to get wasted that bad ever again,” Hank announces as he enters the room with a carafe in his hand. “Bossing’s not gonna like it if the bar ends up smelling as bad as Basilio’s room. Here, have some coffee.”

“We should introduce you to bossing next time too. She’s not here at the moment,” Crispin adds. “Let’s do this again next week.”

The invitation made you smile, and you poured yourself a cup of coffee. You continued eating the rest of your meal.

“...my room doesn’t smell that, right?” Basilio asks after a few moments of silence.

“Gago, it stinks so bad. It’s why we made the guest stay at my room, because if she stayed at yours she could’ve died from how bad it is,” Crispin exclaims. “Seriously, how can you live with bringing women to your room at that point?”

“Kuya, you’re embarrassing me to our guest!”

Translations for non-Filipino speaking folks:

bossing: a somewhat affectionate way to say “boss”. Comes from the old tradition of adding -eng or -ing to ones name to make a nickname, e.g. Luciana - Lucing

Gago/gaga (ka): (you) idiot/moron - someone stupid, foolish or ignorant

Tikbalang: creature from Filipino mythology similar to a centaur. They are hulking beasts with a horse's head.

manong: a term for endearment to an elderly male relative, or elderly men in general. Originally an Ilokano term referring to the first born son in a nuclear family.

kuya: big brother. Can be used to refer to one's own older brother, someone else's older brother, or an older peer or male acquaintance.

II

Author’s Notes: This chapter was heavily inspired by Bita and the Botflies' song Manghuhula.

Warnings: brief scene of sexual harrassment

After washing up, the Twins accompanied you to the gate, exchanging glances at each other behind your back. Little did they know, you definitely noticed it.

“Wait,” Basilio says, tapping your shoulder lightly with a large hand.

Crispin takes his phone out of his pocket. His younger brother proceeds to do the same. “Give us your phone. We’ll add our numbers, and you can text us if something happens,” he says.

“Or when you get home safe,” Basilio adds.

You look at the two of them back and forth. “This isn’t just an elaborate excuse for the two of you to get my number, right?”

Neither of the two spoke, giving each other a nervous glance.

Their reaction made you laugh out loud, and you took out your phone from your bag. “Here. I’ll give you my Facespace too.”

With the tension broken, the three of you exchange a chuckle. You punch in your number in their phones, while they did the same to yours. Crispin looks over his brother’s shoulder and frowns.

“Epal,” Crispin says to his brother, snatching your phone away from him. The older twin types something in, and it’s the younger one’s turn to stick his nose in. Basilio attempts to get the phone back, cursing all the time.

“You’re going to break her phone, gago,” the older twin curses, pushing a palm against Basilio’s face. “Then let it go! You’re the epal, I wasn’t done yet,” the younger one snaps back.

You give them a look of irritation, and check out what they’re arguing about.

“What the hell are you two grown-ass men fighting about?” you ask as you butt in to look at what they’re doing.

A loud snort bubbles from you as you see it; Basilio added “the hot twin” next to his contact name. Crispin added “the hotter twin”. Now, the former wanted to outdo his older brother.

Against your better judgment, you say, “You’re twins. You look like each other. You’re both hot. Now stop fighting over my phone.”

Perhaps it’s the afternoon heat, but there is a tinge of red in their cheeks after your remark. You waved them goodbye as you got in a tricycle that’ll get you to the nearest train station.

The MRT, in some strange miraculous twist of fate, isn’t as packed as usual. It’s still populated, but there were a few seats waiting to be taken. You sit down somewhere away from direct sunlight, and you take out your phone to tell Hannah and Amie that you’re on the way home.

The first thing you see is a text from Basilio. Then, a text from Crispin. You tell them both that you’re on the train now, completely forgetting about messaging your roommates. To pass the time, you launch the Facespace app and decide to look up their profiles, only to find out that they’ve already sent you a friend request.

Upon seeing Crispin’s profile, you did your damn best to stifle a laugh.

His work description says “works at the Krusty Krab,” but that wasn’t the craziest thing about his profile. At first, the Bible verse in his bio caught you off guard, thinking that someone like him didn’t seem religious, but when you quickly looked up “Ezekiel 23:20,” you did your best not to howl with laughter.

Basilio’s isn’t any better.

In his work description, he put “Model at For Her Magazine,” and “edi sa puso mo.” Then you scroll down to see a thirst trap of him pulling his shirt up with his teeth, and you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks again. Well, at least that work description is believable.

They’re- what was that term your younger university friends were using again?- himbos.

They’re definitely himbos.

Arriving at your place, you slot your key inside the doorknob and twist. As you enter the door, the heavy, musky scent of sex and sweat hits your face, and you regret getting too wasted last night and losing your chance to hook up with one of the Twins.

Or both.

Both?

Regardless, at least they’ve invited you again to hang out next week.

You raise your eyebrow and cross your arms at the scene before you. Cans of beer litter the living room, and your roommates are taking a nap by the couch. A tikbalang comes out of the bathroom, glamor off, and you snort as you watch him duck under the door frame because of his massive height.

“It’s already four in the afternoon. Time to go, big guy.”

He nods awkwardly in acknowledgment, morphing into his human disguise, and exiting your apartment.

You sit between your roommates, rousing them from their sleep. “I’m not going to clean this mess up,” you tell them, motioning to the trashed state of the living room, and reaching for the remote to turn the TV on. You just want to take a shower afterwards and sleep in your own bed tonight.

After rubbing the sleep from their eyes, your roommates near-tackles you on the couch, a curious, excited look on their faces. You forgot all about what you were watching and stared at them in surprise.

“So how did it go? Did you get to hook up with any of them?” Amie asks.

“Or both of them?” Hannah adds.

“Gaga, nothing like that happened.”

The two of them let you go with disappointed looks on their faces. “So sayang! Here we were thinking you finally have a sex life,” one of them says as you lean back on the backrest, closing your eyes as they continue to pester you for details.

“Why are you two so determined to get me to screw someone?” you finally snapped, amused and irked at the same time.

“Because you’ve been doing nothing but totally stressing yourself out! See how super fun it is to let go every now and then?”

“Thanks for the new drinking buddies, girls, but I have my fingers to keep me company. Hookups are too much work,” you lie to them, eyes still closed.

“That’s a toe-curling, full-body orgasm you’re missing out on, girl!”

“That’s assuming that the person I’m with knows what they’re doing,” you retorted.

One of them pokes your side with an elbow, and you assume it’s Hannah. “The Twins do.”

You opened your eyes, and you guessed right; it’s Hannah. You give her a look, before rolling your eyes, appearing to look disinterested. The smirk tugging at the edge of your lips says otherwise, though.

“So what happened last night?” Amie asks.

“I got wasted and threw up on Basilio’s shoes. Then, I ended up sleeping in Crispin’s room. When I woke up, they fed me and sent me home,” you tell them. Your roommates giggle at the story.

“Ah, speaking of which, I gotta let them know I got home,” you said off-hand, and somehow the remark only spurred your wind people roommates on.

“Yieee, you’re friends with them on Facespace already!” Amie quips, leaning in to see what you’re typing. Playfully, you move your phone away from her to conceal what you’re typing.

“Make a group chat with them!” Hannah exclaims, taking your phone away from you. You tried taking it back, but Amie joins in the mischief and blocks you from doing so.

When you got your phone back, the deed was done, and the chat was renamed to a single eggplant emoji. The like button was replaced by an eggplant emoji too.

Panicking, you add your roommates to the group to avoid looking suspicious, and swiftly type up a defense.

“Please ignore that, Hannah made this chat using my account.”

The teasing never stopped after that.

Weeks passed and you never bothered to change it, though.

It’s been about two months since your first encounter with the Twins. You’re becoming a familiar face at The Diabolical, going every Saturday to see them. Sometimes Hannah and Amie didn’t accompany you anymore. You’ve met the Twins’ bossing a few times, who turned out to be none other than Alexandra Trese. You’ve heard of her exploits and the two imposing bodyguards who were almost always with her. It surprised you that they’re none other than the Twins you knew, but it made perfect sense. Those two were jacked, and those muscles aren’t only for show.

Of course, because of your increasing presence in the bar, it didn’t take long for the rumors to circulate. Word on the street is both of the Twins had a thing for you, and neither is making a move out of consideration for the other. They are waiting for you to move.

You elected to ignore them, perfectly happy with your arrangement of having two handsome men to keep you company while you unwind. The thought of getting together with one of them, or even both of them did cross your mind a few times, however.

Ultimately, you wouldn’t know what to do if the day comes that you’ll have to confront how you feel and choose between the two.

Do you have to?

Crispin and Basilio are twins, but they’re distinct from each other. The older is more serious, with a dryer sense of humor, while the younger is goofier, and somewhat softer. One complements the other, and they’re both good company despite their differences.

Speak of the devil. Your phone buzzes and you see that the eggplant chat is active. The Twins are inviting you to The Diabolical again.

“See you guys at eight,” you type in. Someone reacts with an eggplant to your message. Then the next few messages were nothing but eggplant emojis, followed by Basilio sending “#TeamTalong”. Crispin cusses him out for it, but sends the same message right after.

Yeah, that became a thing among the five of you.

You and the wind girls got dressed and took a taxi to the bar, your favorite jacket draped over your shoulders. Pressured by your roommates, you wore something nicer tonight; a black faux leather dress that hugs your figure deliciously. The shiny fabric added to the effect. The six bottles of Pulang Tikbalang beer the three of you shared before going out might’ve contributed to your newfound bravado.

But now that you’re actually wearing it outside your apartment, you feel a little reluctant.

“Maybe wearing this is a bad idea,” you mutter to no one in particular, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear out of self-consciousness.

Amie taps you from behind. “Oh hush, that outfit is totally sexy,” she comments. “Finally ready to get dicked down tonight, girl?”

“Shhh, gaga ka, manong driver can hear you.”

That didn’t deter them from making more inappropriate comments, much to the manong's ire.

It’s nine already when you get there, you’re in the Philippines after all. The merriment is already in full swing when you step through the door. Hannah and Amie went ahead and sat next to their lay of the week. The Twins wave you over from their usual spot, but before you can reach them, a man you’ve never seen before tries to get your attention, snaking an arm around your waist.

“Hey baby. You’re a regular here, right? Want to drink with me?”

“Sorry, I’m here with someone else,” you tell him, moving away.

“Ah, here to see the Twins? Why don’t you ditch them for a change of pace and come with me, babe?”

“Not interested,” you flat out said. “Please move, or I’ll make you move.”

To your surprise, the man drops his glamor and reveals himself to be a kapre. He looms over you, cigar in his mouth, and you can feel the tension rising. People are starting to stare, and your friends took notice of it too.

“Try,” he huffs, puffing smoke to your face. You give him a sour glare while trying not to cough.

Before your roommates or the Twins could come to your aid, you panicked and saw an empty bottle of Pulang Tikbalang on a nearby table. Emboldened by the alcohol in your veins, you shatter the bottle and point the jagged edge at the hulking beast, hands shaking. You are a tiny thing compared to the enormous creature before you, after all.

“Don’t you dare look down on me.”

“Already doing that, honey.”

“I’m not your honey,” you say as you press the edge against his stomach, not enough to draw blood, but hard enough to hurt.

“I love it when they fight back,” the kapre croons.

Under the haze of alcohol, you were more than ready to shove the edge in, consequences be damned.

Before things could escalate, Crispin takes the broken bottle off of your hands and steers you away from the stranger, while Basilio steps in to defuse the tension. “Hey, why don’t you back off, pal? Our friend said no. You wouldn’t want us to tell our bossing to ban you from the place because of this misunderstanding now, don’t you?”

Heart in your throat, you turn to the Twins, then to the kapre. The tree giant pauses, looking at the three of you, then smirks.

“Heh. Fine. But if you torpe whelps don’t make a move, I will.”

The giant puts his glamor back on and skulks away.

“Wow, what a jerk! He only left you alone when the boys stepped in,” Hannah quips, tossing her hair in indignation.

“You almost didn’t need rescuing, but I’d hate to help Hank mop the blood off the floor later,” Basilio comments, nudging you gently with an elbow. His eyes go a little lower from your face, and you see him look away.

You realized Crispin hasn’t let go of you yet.

“C’mon, let’s just go,” you tell everyone. Crispin proceeds to remove his hand away from your shoulder, and you take your usual seats by the bar.

The bar is loud, but the silence between the three of you is deafening. Even Hank seems to have taken notice, eyeing your usually loud and cheerful group.

“What’s up with you three? What happened back there?” the older man asks, leaning over the bar top.

“Just a handsy kapre who couldn’t take no for an answer. I won’t let it spoil the night,” you answer him.

“That’s the spirit. Holler if he tries something like that again, I’ll have him kicked out,” Hank replies, setting down three ice-cold beers in front of you guys.

Yet somehow, the conversation never livened up.

Three bottles of Pulang Tikbalang later, you’ve had enough.

“This is about what that kapre said, isn’t it?” you finally say, slightly pissed.

The Twins look at each other with guilty expressions, and simultaneously nod.

“Do you boys wanna talk about it?”

They look at each other again. “Shit, this is awkward,” Crispin comments, scratching his head. Basilio nods in agreement, uncharacteristically silent. “We didn’t want to pressure you into anything you didn’t want to do,” the older twin continues.

“Look, I don’t want to ruin my relationship with my kuya just because we’re interested in the same girl,” Basilio says. “Same here,” Crispin adds.

“So we were waiting for you to make your own move,” Basilio continues.

“Ah. So the rumors are true,” you sighed.

“We’ll accept whatever outcome there is. If you choose me, or Basilio, or neither because this is fucking messy, we totally get it,” the older twin says, leaning back to stare at the ceiling.

Now the decision rests in your hands.

“Why don’t we talk about this somewhere more private?” you ask them.

You watch as both of them gulp. “Where do you wanna talk?” Basilio asks.

“Anywhere private.”

“I just cleaned my room earlier. Why don’t we continue this there?”

You nod, and they lead you away from the bar.

Looks like it’s going to be a long night.

Translations for non-Filipino speakers:

epal: in Filipino slang, usually refers to a person who inappropriately presents himself in a situation or butts into a conversation.

kapre: a tree-giant from Filipino mythology. Often described as very tall, dark, and hairy. Almost never seen without a cigar.

sayang: literally means waste. Can be used alone as an expression similar to "what a waste!"

torpe: someone who cannot spit their romantic or sexual feelings out to a crush or love interest

III

Author’s Notes:

Warnings: Smut. Filthy smut. Writer-is-definitely-going-to-the-second-circle-of-the-Seven-Circles-of-Hell-levels-of-filthy smut. Bawal bata, tulog na. If you're under 18 please turn back.

After the door closes behind the three of you, you sit on the bed, while Crispin sits on a chair near his brother’s desk. Basilio locks the door, and leans against it, unable to look at you.

“Right. So. How are we going to deal with this?” you ask them, crossing your legs.

“Don’t ask us,” Crispin says, swiveling the chair to face you. “You’re the one caught in the middle after all.”

Curse his choice of words.

“This is too weird,” Basilio speaks up. “If you want me to unlock the door, just say the word. We can walk out of this like nothing happened.”

“And then what? Things are going to be awkward between the three of us, I just know it,” you say to him, palming the back of your neck. “Things might get awkward with Amie and Hannah too, and I live with them. I don’t want our tropa to disband just because of relationship drama.”

“What about Amie and Hannah? Is it because we have history with those two?” Crispin asks.

“They’ve been trying to set me up with either of you. The fact that they also slept with you in the past also doesn’t help. Shit, this is messy.”

“Er, um,” Basilio stutters. “That might’ve been our fault.”

You furrow your brow and cross your arms. “Keep going.”

The Twins look at each other, as if gauging who should explain the situation. “So, we remained in contact after being used as a prize for bossing’s race with Maliksi, right?” Crispin starts.

“Uh huh.”

“Well, they mentioned a third roommate in passing and joked about lending us to her. Of course we blew them off, then Amie showed us a picture of you. We got curious and asked them to introduce you,” Basilio continues.

“I didn’t expect us five to become friends. And now we’re in this mess,” Crispin adds.

You look at them back and forth, and laugh in resignation. Elbows digging against your lap and palms pressed against your face, you rub your face and run it through your hair. “Amazing. Just amazing. See, I have a problem too.”

The Twins didn’t respond, eyes fixated on you.

“I like the two of you.”

You feel the air shift around you. Basilio’s standing upright by the door now, and Crispin straightened up too. The room is so quiet, you can hear them gulp in anticipation for what will happen next.

“There. I said it. The reason why I haven’t made a move at all is because of this exact moment that I was dreading. I didn’t want to choose,” you admit, feeling the blood rush to your head. “I just wanted for us three to stay like that, drinking buddies sprinkled with sexual tension.”

“And you’re in the middle, enjoying our attention,” Crispin says, crossing his arms.

“Selfish, I know,” you admit, head hanging low.

This is it, the moment that can make or break you three.

“Us three. If only...” you whisper, only for the words to fall flat on your tongue

You stand up, gathering your things and carrying your bag. “Nevermind. What a mess we’re in. I’ll go so you two can sort things out between the two of you. It’s been a fun ride.”

Basilio doesn’t move from the door, and behind you, you can hear Crispin getting up from his seat.

“We can still make this work, right kuya?” Basilio starts, looking over your head to give his brother a knowing look.

“Yeah, I think so,” Crispin replies. “What was that you said? The three of us?”

Your eyes widen, and you look at them back and forth. Their bodies are dangerously close to yours. Now you’re literally caught in the middle.

“I- uh…”

“I think we can work out an arrangement,” Basilio whispers, one hand moving to hold yours.

“Only if you want to,” Crispin adds, his breath kissing the back of your neck.

“I don’t want to lose either of you,” Basilio adds.

“Same here.”

Damn it all.

Giving in to your darkest, most hidden desires, you lean in to capture Basilio’s lips with yours, leaving his black eyes wide open in surprise. They flutter close, and he savors the kiss, slipping a tongue in. Then you turn to Crispin, and you give him the same sweet kiss as well.

“Damn, I didn’t mean like, now,” Basilio mutters, feeling the front of his trousers get tighter as he watches you make out with his brother.

Bringing your attention back to the younger twin, you loosen his tie, while you push out your ass to grind against Crispin. “Are you complaining?”

“Not at all.”

“Wait, are you sure about this? All of us drank tonight… we don’t want you to do something you’ll regret,” Crispin says, moving his hips away from you. Basilio pauses too, and wraps his hands around your wrists to still your hands, a look of concern on his face.

“Kuya’s right.”

“I’m a grown woman. I might’ve had a few bottles, but I know what I want,” you reassure them, waiting for the two to make a move. “I know I want you two for months.”

Basilio lets go of your hands and lets you do as you please, a cocky smirk on his lips. Behind you, you can feel Crispin’s gloved hands reaching for the zipper of your dress. “Really? How much do you want us? C’mon, say it,” Basilio asks, moving in to place kisses on your neck.

“I wanna hear it too,” Crispin whispers against your shoulder, and he punctuates it with a light kiss.

All of a sudden, you felt shy at the prospect of confessing your fantasies out loud. “Why don’t I just show you boys?”

“Oh no, you’re not getting out of this one,” Basilio teases. “Consider it as payback for throwing up all over my shoes.”

“You’re still- ah!- mad about that?” you ask him, gasping in the middle of doing so when you felt a hand snake between your legs from behind. The older twin slips his fingers past your underwear, circling your clit with slow strokes.

“Not mad, I just want things to be fair,” Basilio teases, pulling your dress down. He gives your breasts a squeeze, fondling and rolling your nipples until they harden, and he seals his lips over your right one. Crispin moves from behind you and he takes his place next to his twin, lathing his tongue over the left. All four of their hands pawed at your flesh greedily.

You were at a loss for words because of how good they’re making you feel, soft moans bubbling from your throat.

“Speechless already, huh?” Crispin mumbles against your skin.

“Ngh! The wind girls weren’t lying, you two know what you’re doing,” you gasped, face flushed as you watched the Twins lavish their attention on your breasts.

“Shhh, stop changing the subject. Play along, or neither of us will make you cum,” he adds, pausing to give you a teasing lick, and resting his tongue on top of the hardened bud. On the other hand, Basilio is sucking like a starved babe while squeezing your still clothed behind.

You fake a scoff of indignation and grin. “Fine. I- oh fuck- want you two so much, I’ve been fantasizing for weeks.”

Basilio pauses to address you. “Describe them.”

You’re a little mortified, but the alcohol in your system pushes you to be bolder. “I imagined Basilio punishing me for ruining his shoes.”

“And how did he do that?” Crispin’s voice.

“He asked me to suck him off,” you start, and a pinch on your bottom from the subject of your fantasy tells you that he wanted to hear more details. “He fucked my face while pulling my hair and told me how good I was the whole time and that he forgave me.”

“What about me? What fantasies did you have?” Crispin asks again.

Your breath hitched in your throat but you pushed on. “Hearing how you scolded Basilio, I imagined you taking me from behind and saying the meanest, dirtiest things possible.”

The Twins looked at each other, and stopped, their lips leaving your breasts with a lewd pop. “You want to make them all come true?” Basilio asks.

Cheeks burning, you give them a curt nod.

The two of them lead you to the bed, where Crispin puts you on all fours, and he takes his place from behind. On the other hand, Basilio is standing near the edge of the bed, the bulge in his pants inches away from your face. You stare at it, licking your lips.

As you undid Basilio’s pants, he shrugs off his suit jacket and takes off his tie, then he takes off his dress shirt, revealing his abs and the trail of dark hair on his lower abdomen, disappearing into his briefs. From behind, you hear fabric shifting, then Crispin peels your panties off of you. He brings a gloved hand against your skin in a loud smack, making you cry out.

“Ah, wait, we need a safeword,” Crispin mentions, soothingly squeezing your skin.

“What about Eternos?” Basilio suggests, and Crispin cocks an eyebrow. “Wait, you mean, like the game?”

You stifle a laugh. “I’m fine with it,” you say to them, and they take it as a signal to continue.

The older twin dips a gloved finger between your folds, gathering your wetness, and tsked. “Look at you, already so fucking wet. You want this so much, huh?”

You nod frantically, then Basilio stills your head. “Open your mouth, baby. Tongue out.”

You oblige, and Basilio fishes his cock out of his briefs. Your eyes grow wider as you take in the sight of it; girthy, with a nice length, and a few veins running on the underside. You wonder if Crispin’s is the same. The twin in front of you lightly smacks his member against your tongue, and you proceed to lick it, running from the base to the tip, slicking it with saliva. You swirl your tongue around it, then try to slide it in your mouth as smoothly as possible.

As Basilio begins to breathe harder with each bob of your head, Crispin pulls your ass towards his face, and a choked moan escapes your lips as you feel his mouth on your heat, toying with your folds before he finally finds that sensitive nub. The older twin proceeds to lick and suck at it, eating you out like you’re the best damn meal of his life.

Meanwhile, you push a palm against Basilio’s thigh to make him pause, and before he can ask you if you’re fine, you take his balls in your mouth and fondle him with your tongue. Your hand pumps his neglected cock as you did so.

“Shit! Your mouth feels so damn good,” he hisses, breathing hard. When you take his dick back into your mouth, Basilio gathers your hair and uses it as a handle, watching his length disappear in your mouth over and over, his black eyes hazy with lust and his mouth whispering words of praise.

Crispin looks at his brother with a hint of envy, cock painfully hard against his trousers. He unzips it for relief, and proceeds to stroke himself as he continues to prepare you.

“Hey, Basilio, got any lube?”

“Um, there’s- ungh- a bottle of it under the pillow.”

“...you keep lube under your pillow? What the- and condoms? Can’t you put them in your drawers or something?”

Basilio doesn’t give his brother a response and focuses his attention on you. You gasp against his cock as you felt a cold, gloved hand prod against your asshole, and goosebumps formed on your flesh as you felt the cold lubricant smearing against your entrance. Crispin pushes his lubed thumb in, and you cry out in pleasure, your jaw opening wider for Basilio to claim. Then, two more fingers prod at your pussy, and you swear you can see stars as they slid in. The older twin toys with you while eating you out, and you feel a knot forming at the base of your stomach, threatening to uncoil at any moment.

You couldn’t take it. Basilio’s cock slides out of your mouth and you look over your shoulder, moaning and panting.

Crispin pauses from eating you out to ask you a question. “You’re gonna cum? You wanna cum on my fingers like the filthy slut you are?”

“Yes, please, please, let me cum,” you begged, and with a devilish smirk, Crispin dives right back in to finish the job.

You squeezed your eyes shut as the pleasure inside you exploded, shameless moans coming from your throat as your first orgasm hits you. Basilio watches the look of pleasure on your face as Crispin makes you cum, making his cock twitch.

“Now that’s how you please a woman,” Crispin teases, shooting his brother a challenging look while wiping your juices off of his face.

“Wait until it’s my turn,” Basilio replies, smirking.

Panting, legs wobbling, you didn’t get to rest as Crispin takes his cock and slides it in you. In front of you, Basilio cups your face and directs you back to his cock, smirking. “You’re doing so well, baby. You’re taking us like a champ, you know that?”

“Fuck,” Crispin hisses from behind you. “You like this, you little slut? You like being fucked by two cocks at the same time?” he asks you, each word punctuated with a hard thrust.

Now you’re really caught in the middle.

Basilio’s panting heavily now, his thrusts becoming erratic against your mouth. You know he’s close, and you brace yourself for what’s coming. Eyes screwed shut, he lets out a low groan as he spills inside of your mouth, his cum painting your tongue white. You try to swallow it all, but a few stray drops dribble down your chin. The younger twin cleans you up, and kisses you deeply, not minding his taste on your mouth. He sits on the bed to catch his breath, and allows you to rest on his thighs.

Behind you, Crispin begins to rut faster, his thumb still in your ass as he pounded you. You writhe and cry against Basilio’s lap, bracing yourself from each harsh thrust. The younger twin pets your hair, but he moves his hand away when Crispin pushes your head against his brother’s lap.

“Take it all of it,” Crispin groans. “Ungh, you make me so horny, you little slut.”

Not wanting to miss out on the fun, Basilio gets an idea.

“Hey, kuya. Hold her up.”

Crispin blinks before obliging his brother’s request, clamping a hand around your throat. “Is this fine?” he asks you, and you nod a few times. He tightens his hold and pulls you to his toned chest, your hair sticking to his skin from your sweat. Basilio kisses you, then latches on one of your breasts. One gloved hand fondles and pulls at your nipples, while the other moves south to stroke you.

“Ah! I think I’m gonna cum again…” you choked, face red and tears forming at the edge of your eyes.

“Say our names,” Crispin whispers against your ear in a low growl.

You mutter their names at first, but it turns to full blown cries as your climax fast approaches.

“Crispin! Basilio!”

It hits you so hard, your eyes roll to the back of your head. You cried shamelessly, and Crispin places a kiss on your open mouth, tongue slipping in and teeth clashing with yours. He pulls out and finishes on your back, cock resting between the valley of your cheeks, still half-hard.

The Twins move to clean you up, looking around for tissues and anything to wipe you with.

“So,” Basilio says. “One more round?”

Your eyes widen, and you look down to see that Basilio is hard again.

“How- what the fuck? What are you two?”

Crispin sighs. “Hannah and Amie never told you? We’re demigods.”

“We don’t get sick and our injuries heal really fast. Talagbusao is our dad,” Basilio adds, and you give him a disbelieving glare.

“You didn’t need to let that last detail slip out, gago,” Crispin berates him as he pulls you close to his muscular chest. He lay down on a pillow, one arm propping his head up.

After a few seconds of silence, you say something. “At least let me have some water first.”

“Right.”

The Twins stare at each other.

“One of us has to fetch it,” Crispin says.

“What? Why me?” Basilio complains, scratching his head.

“Because I’m older, and I’ve worked hard to give her two orgasms in a row.”

“Hey! I’m sure that last one was thanks to me.”

You groan, grabbing a pillow to cover your face. “Ugh, please don’t turn this into a competition about who made me cum the most. Just get me my water, pretty please, Basilio?”

At the request, Basilio smiles and dresses haphazardly to get it for you. “Don’t start without me.”

You close your eyes with a smile. Crispin buries his face against your hair and plays with it. “You have him wrapped around your finger, you know?”

You chuckle at the remark, and Crispin kisses your temple. “Just don’t hurt my little brother.”

“I have no intention of hurting either of you,” you tell him.

Basilio comes back with a pitcher and some glasses, and once everyone’s hydrated and ready, the night continues.

The Twins spoil you with their attention, hands roaming your body as they planted kisses on your skin. Basilio sucks on your collarbone, biting experimentally and leaving marks that would darken in the morning, which draws a whine from your throat. Not wanting to be outdone, Crispin kisses your back, then the back of your neck, and he found a sweet spot that made you moan at that place where your ear connects to your neck. Basilio observes this and does the same to the other side.

“Hey, um, can I do it in your ass?” Crispin whispers in your ear, almost sheepishly, and you stare at him for a few seconds before nodding.

“Sure. Be gentle. And use a condom.”

“Of course. You go on top. What’s our safeword again?” he asks you, testing your knowledge.

You roll your eyes and try not to laugh. “Eternos.”

“Good girl,” Basilio says.

Flipping yourself around, you lean into Crispin’s lap. “Here, let me help,” you say as you grasp his cock and start to pump. The younger twin behind you reaches for the lube and prepares your ass. You sigh with pleasure as you feel the cold sensation of the product on your skin. Crispin sighs as you slide his length between your lips, head bobbing up and down, and you feel him grow inside your mouth. You give the tip a small lick before doing the same thing you did to Basilio, cupping his balls with your mouth and fondling them with your tongue.

“I want you now,” Crispin rasps, tugging your hair to get you off of him.

You smirk, turning around to give him a great view of your ass. He reaches around for a condom, finds one, and tears the foil open. After sliding the rubber down his shaft, he positions himself against your hole, pressing against the tight ring of muscle. You wince in pain as he starts penetrating you, prompting him to squeeze more lube to relieve your discomfort.

“Relax,” Basilio instructs you, planting soothing kisses at your jaw. You did as he said and unclenched your muscles, entrusting yourself to the two of them.

As Crispin pushes past the ring of muscle, you sigh in relief, discomfort replaced with the feeling of fullness. You lean back into his hard chest, a soft sigh leaving your lips as he starts to move. Meanwhile, Basilio kneels between your legs, rubbing your clit with the head of his dripping cock, but he freezes before he slides it in.

“What?” you ask with concern.

“We’re out of condoms.”

“Just pull out,” you tell him with a strained voice, gasping as Crispin moves inside you.

“No, you don’t understand. We’re demigods. Our… um.. Yeah, we’re really potent.”

You smirk at him. “I’ll ask the girls for something in the morning,” you say against your better judgment. “It’s a risk I’m willing to take. Cum all over me.”

His cock twitches at your last suggestion.

“Ugh, Basilio, you’re really killing the mood here,” Crispin strains to say, holding you gently by the neck. “I pulled out too, remember? Make up your mind already. I wouldn’t mind having her to myself for now, though.”

“Not a chance,” Basilio retorts, sliding the tip of his cock past your folds and pushing inside.

A loud cry rips from your throat at the sensations, feeling stuffed to the maximum as two cocks start to pump inside you. Crispin’s grip on your neck tightens, while you tangle your hands through Basilio’s hair, pulling him closer and kissing him.

Soon, The Twins find a steady rhythm, syncing their movement so you can feel the full force of their thrusts. Basilio throws one of your legs over his shoulder and begins to massage your clit with his thumb, while Crispin fondles your breasts with his free hand, using the tip of his fingers to roll, squeeze, and pull at your nubs. With every thrust they give, you clench, drawing a groan from both of them as they felt themselves being squeezed by your muscles.

“Oh God,” you whine. “Fuck, you both feel so good.”

“Say our names,” Basilio growls, and you oblige.

You chant their names like a prayer, underscored by the slapping of skin as the Twins fucked both of your holes. Hearing their names only spurred them on, and their movements became more desperate, sweat rolling off of your bodies.

“Basilio! Crispin!”

Underneath you, Crispin gropes at your breast harder, beads of sweat rolling off of his forehead and dripping to your skin. “Your ass feels too good, I’m gonna cum,” he hissed between clenched teeth, and you silently thank Bathala that he’s near his limit. The lube is starting to wash off.

With a few more rough thrusts, he cums, shooting inside the rubber. Crispin cups your jaw and kisses you, deep and sweet, tasting your tongue. You’re on the verge of climax now too, and you give Basilio a desperate look. He understood what you meant.

The younger twin thrusts harder and faster while still rubbing that sensitive nub between your legs furiously, and the older one helps by stimulating your nipples once again. The bombardment of sensation is too much, and you feel white hot heat racing through your body as you cum one last time, voice hoarse as a throaty moan escapes past your open mouth.

The spasm of your muscles is enough to send Basilio over the edge too, pulling out of you and spilling his load all over the mound of your pussy, and your stomach. You feel Crispin slip out of you too. Basilio leans in to kiss you, almost tenderly, but still full of desperation, tongue and teeth.

After a quick cleanup and another drink of water, the three of you lay in a heap of limbs, exhausted. Crispin doesn’t shift at all, content on letting you lie next to him, while Basilio moves next to you, effectively sandwiching you between the two of them on the narrow bed.

Everyone is sated, and with your eyes growing heavy, you wanted nothing but sleep.

“So, who’s better?”

You don’t know who said it, but you raised your hand to give him a middle finger. “Tangina niyo, you’re both good. End of discussion. Now please let me sleep.”

Thank Bathala that they did.

The next morning, all three of you wake up sweaty, stinking, and really, really hungry.

“Good morning to you two,” you sigh, snaking your arms around theirs. Each of them gave you a kiss on your temple. “Damn, I’m starving,” you said, sitting up. “Let’s take a shower and grab something to e-”

Underneath the three of you, the bed’s legs give out, and a loud thud can be heard throughout the house. As you three scramble for purchase, frantic footsteps are approaching, and the door bursts open.

“What was that? Crispin is missing from his room and-” Hank blurts, toting his good ol’ triple barrel shotgun "Ama, Anak, at, Espiritu Santo". Funnily enough, when he sees the tangle of limbs before him, he utters the same words and quickly turns away. Alexandra arrives shortly after, gives them a quick glance, and shuts the door.

Breakfast with their bossing is filled with a mortifying quiet.

You barely touch your food, embarrassment burning your cheeks, and you shoot a glance at your twin lovers.

“Next time, lock the door,” Alex finally says, getting up from the table with a coffee in her hands. She’s too fucking exhausted to deal with this.

“It’s Basilio’s fault!” Crispin yells after her. Basilio made no attempts to defend himself, knowing that he forgot to lock the door again after he came back with the water.

Grumbling, you finally take a bite of your breakfast, jacket draped over your shoulders despite the heat to hide the bruises on your body. “The girls are gonna have a field day when they see me like this.”

“I need to replace the bed,” Basilio mumbles, stuffing his mouth with rice.

The three of you looked at each other, and laughed.

“So, see you next week?” Crispin asks with a smile, and Basilio gives you a pleading, doe-eyed look.

“Yeah. See you two next week.”

Translations for non-English speakers:

tropa: ground of friends. People you chill with

tangina niyo: Filipino profanity. Roughly translates to "you sons of bitches"

Ama, Anak, at Espiritu Santo: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. It’s Hank’s weapon’s actual name in the comics.

[tomtenadia]

A Little Braver - Chapter 2

I think I will be brave as well and post chapter 2.

In the chapter when Rowan muses about his call sign he uses the term FNG - it literally mean Fucking new guy. In US military it describes a newcomer.

Enjoy the chapter!

--------

The next morning Rowan was on his way to the fire station. He had left the house a bit early to allow for traffic or getting lost. In the end he had arrived with ten minutes to spare. He parked the car along the road and walked to the main area in front of the station and stopped. 

The tall training building was on fire and a few people were outside in front of it as if in waiting. He searched for the captain but she was not there. He wanted to go and ask to the team about her whereabouts but did not want to interrupt the training session. So he just decided to lean against a wall of the fire station, arms folded at his chest and just watch the drill. 

He was curious about why they were not using the truck or water and wondered if they were following a specific exercise.

Being a fighter pilot was full of risks but by looking at the raging fire and thinking that there were people willingly putting themselves through that inferno made him shiver. He’d rather been strapped in a metal cage than in a house on fire.

All of a sudden a figure ran out of the building carrying what looked like a dummy and two more followed.  He gasped when he recognised the captain. The dummy she was carrying on her shoulders must have weighed a ton and he was impressed. He followed her, dumping the dummy on the ground and joining the tall blonde man and pat him on the shoulder looking happy. His lips turned up in a hint of a smile.

Her eyes met his and she gave him a huge smile and Rowan straightened up and pulled away from the wall. She walked to him while unbuttoning her bulky fireproof jacket.

“Morning Captain,” she brushed her hair away from her face and Rowan’s heart started to race.

“Enjoyed the show?”

He cleared his voice while he tried to gain some sense again “That was fascinating.”

“Can you give me twenty minutes to have a very quick shower and get changed? You don’t want to be in a meeting with a stinky woman.”

Captain Whitethorn nodded “Take your time.”

“You can go and meet the guys. They are a friendly bunch.” She offered “just ignore the lewd jokes.”

“Thank you for the head’s up.”

Aelin ran away and he gathered some courage and walked to the team. He was not the best around people he did not know, but he wanted to play nice.

He took another step and the tall blond man noticed him and walked with purpose toward him and offered him his hand “Captain Whitethorn isn’t it?”

Rowan nodded.

“Aelin told us you were coming. I am Lieutenant Ashryver.”

Rowan nodded and studied the man in front of him and noticed that his posture and attitude screamed military. After he had spent all his adult life in the force he had gotten used to spot one of them. He had the same feeling at the base during the fire. 

“Can I introduce you to our team?”

“Gladly.”

Aedion turned to the red-haired woman “Ladies first. This is Ansel. Never leave her and Aelin alone because then you are in trouble.”

“Hey, I’ll tell her you said that and she will put you on truck cleaning duties for a month.” Aedion ignored her and continued “then here we have Brullo, Nox, Ress, Ren and finally Luca.” He grabbed the young man’s shoulder “he is our probie. He finished the academy and he joined us a few months ago. For now he is coming to the less serious calls but we are planning on coddling him a bit less and make him see the real stuff as well.”

Then the man turned around, scanning the area in search for something or someone “we also have two EMTs, Elide and Lysandra but they must be around the station doing something. You will meet them anyway.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you all.”

“Everyone, clean up and don’t leave everything to Luca. All of you haul ass. Nox, Ren you are on equipment duty. Ansel, Ress you two are on uniform checks. Brullo, take Luca with you and go over him some truck procedures for before and after calls. Now away all of you.”

Rowan chuckled. The man was definitely ex military. 

“Where did you serve?” He asked the man taking a chance.

“I was in the army. I was an artillery specialist. Once I retired Aelin called me saying her station was looking for recruits and I applied for the job. Guess my experience with explosives and such was a plus. Many years later I am still here and still loving it.” Then he studied the Captain “how did you guess?”

“Your posture. It’s the stick up your arse, as Captain Galathynius would say, that gets drilled into you from day one. The way you give order, again, very familiar.”

“Call her Aelin, Cap or Captain. She hates being called Captain Galathynius.”

Rowan raised a eyebrow with curiosity for that statement.

“I usually call her brat or menace.” Aedion chuckled “she is my cousin. I have known her since we were little. I have earned that privilege.”

Aedion started walking back into the station and Captain Whitethorn followed him.

“She has the bas habit of not filtering what she wants to say, can be brash and very vocal when she is mad at something or someone, but she loves her job and her team. She loves being a firefighter. She might be young be she is extremely capable. She is the first female captain. Absurd to think that before her it was just a boy’s club, eh?” The man joked, and lead him into a big spacious room with a lone table and chair and a kitchen at the bottom of it “If she keeps likes this I can see her climbing up the ladder pretty quickly, although I cannot imagine her in a desk job.”

Rowan knew very little about the woman but he had the same feeling.

“This is where we spend most of the time when we are on shift, all tasks are done and just wait for a call. We have books, video-games, tv… you name it. And like all families we fight for who controls the remote.”

Aelin joined them a moment later “Are you giving our Captain the tour?”

“Yes, just the cheap tour for now. You can give him the proper one later.” Aedion winked at her.

“I guess that after our meeting, the Captain will be more than happy to get rid of me.

“I gave you a tour of the base, I would love a tour of the station.”

Aelin’s mouth almost fell open in disbelief.

“If you are not fed up with me we can think about it.” And she turned around and walked away the same way he did the day before. 

Aedion gestured with his head to follow her and Rowan ran after her.

“I am sorry for the delay. Once I got back to work yesterday I had an email saying that our annual performance review is due in three weeks. I did not have a way to contact you otherwise I would have pushed the meeting forward a bit.”

“It was actually interesting watching you guys train.” He followed her to her office and took the seat she offered “we have performance reviews as well. What do you guys have to do?”

Aelin was caught off guard by him being talkative all of a sudden “We get tested on our abilities. We usually go to the academy, are given a scenario and the whole team has to work as if that was a real call. We also get to perform some individual tasks and those are timed. It’s a very stressful period.”

“You can leave our project to me until you are done with your review. I am happy to give you an update and you can come once a week to check how things are progressing if you are too busy.”

“Are you trying to get rid of me, Captain?” She smiled at him, leaning back in her chair.

He shook his head and she noticed him finally relaxing and sitting more comfortably in his chair “we have those review as well and they are always stressful for the team and I am aware how much of my time, preparing drills takes me. I am offering you to concentrate on your mission ahead for now and then catch up in three weeks.”

Was he actually being nice to her?

“I will be fine captain, but thank you for the offer. I appreciate it.”

“If you change your mind, my offer will still be on the table.”

“So,” she said quite abruptly changing the subject. If he even thought she needed his help because she was a woman he was in for a tough ride.

Aelin grabbed a folder with her plan. She had spent the entire previous day working on it. “These are the copies for you.” And she passed him a pile of papers “they are the ideas and changes I would like to suggest. I believe that is the part you will have to discuss with your CO. the biggest and probably most time consuming change is the extra door. All the other suggestions are repairs and perhaps replacements of old parts. I would like to explain again that these changes are not up for discussion. They need to happen.”

Captain Whitethorn nodded “I have discussed the matter with my CO after our meeting and he understands that and agrees. He promised me that he will fight until the last ditch if they start blocking him with budget bullshit, his exact words.”

“Please tell Air Commodore Salvaterre that I appreciate his cooperation. It goes in the interest of every single person who works at the base. Him included.”

“This pile here is a draft of possible training sessions for both your squadron and the ground crew. I want basic fire prevention training, fire extinguisher training, reviews of fire drills. I would like to do some training, especially with the ground crew on fuels handling, fuel storing and clearing spillages. Your squadron will be welcome as well. I think it will benefit everyone.” She flipped through her notes “I would like to nominate a couple of people as Fire champions or any other name we can come up with. Their role would be to perform monthly deep inspections and weekly spot checks. The idea is that by doing this, you are always on the ball with any problems. Of course we will provide training on how to do all this.” She kept explaining and the man in front of her listened to her with great interest, never interrupting her. 

“Needless to say that fire prevention is everyone’s job. See it, report it. And if you can, fix it.” She jotted down a few things “of course all of this depends on our rosters. I don’t know how it works for you guys but we work in shift patterns.”

“My squadron and I, we work Monday to Friday when we are ground-side. Ground staff such as engineers for example, they tend to follow shift patterns as well. I can talk to the supervisors for the mechanics and engineering team and see if I can get a roster from them. They are aware of the fact that extra training is on its way.”

“Please do. I have a feeling that will be the biggest job.”

“Do you have any questions for me so far?”

“Which venue will we use?”

Aelin tapped her pen on the table “I was thinking here if it’s okay with you. We have the equipment, also we don’t have maximum security checks.”

“Speaking of security…” he extracted something from his pocket “`I have your badge.”

Aelin took the badge he offered in surprise.

“I imagine we will be working together quite a lot and you will need to visit the base as well on a regular basis. You have now the badge with consultant clearance. It’s not a lot, but it will grant you access to all the are you will need. And no more forms to fill.”

“Thank you, captain,” she was speechless “Thank you for trusting me.”

She smiled fondly at him and Rowan realised he’d do literally anything to see that smile. It was intoxicating.

They worked for a few hours and Aelin realised it was not as bad as she had feared. The captain had been very keen to listen to her plans and making suggestions according to his knowledge of the base and his team. He had also looked a bit less uncomfortable and more willing to have a full conversation instead of monosyllables. At least it was progress and since it looked like they were going to work together for a while it was a good thing. 

When her stomach grumbled loudly she coughed embarrassed to try and cover it but the very faint hint of a grin on the captain’s lips told her that he had head her.

“We can stop for lunch, captain.”

Aelin almost blushed “I guess so. I think I have a black hole forming in my stomach. Those drills always leave me famished.” She stood “there is a lovely diner very nearby. Can I interest you in lunch? It’s on me. But no shop talk.” She was ready for a refusal but the captain stood and nodded.

“I’d like lunch.”

When they left the office they met Elide and Lysandra carrying boxes full of supplies to stock the ambulance. As soon as Rowan noticed he jumped forward and offered to help Elide.

“Let me carry them. They are quite bulky.”

“Thank you,” said the woman flashing a smile to Aelin then showed the captain the direction to the ambulance.

“Where do I place it?” He asked once they were arrived. Elide opened the back door of the vehicle “just here. Lys and I will sort through everything. Thank for the help.”

Lysandra dropped all her stuff and turned to the two captains.

“These are Lysandra and Elide, they are our two resident EMTs.”

“Ladies, this is captain Whitethorn.”

Lysandra mouthed hot to Aelin and the woman rolled her eyes. 

“The captain and I were going for lunch. Could you please tell Aedion to man the fort for me while I am away? I am just going to Emrys and I have a radio with me if anything happens.”

The woman nodded “I know the drill. Go, enjoy lunch.”

The two captains left “we are walking. The place is just down the road. We are all regulars there.”

Five minutes later they reached the small diner and Rowan thought the place looked cosy and felt like the good old fashioned family run restaurant.

“Emrys and his husband Malakai have been running this place since forever. It’s an institution in the neighbourhood.”

“Aelin, my girl.” A very smiling Emrys walked from behind the counter and went to hug the woman “Are you keeping well?”

“Of course.”

“Two today?” He asked looking at the Aelin’s companion.

“Yes please. Can we sit anywhere?”

“Go ahead.” He gestured pointing at the tables.

“Quiet today?”

“Not at all. You just missed the rush. Until twenty minutes ago we were full. Malkai is delivering an order to the police station.”

Aelin walked to the table near the window and invited Rowan to join her.

“Here’s the menu for your friend. Let me know when you are ready to order.”

Rowan took the menu, opened it and lowered his head to start reading it.

Aelin studied him for a moment while he was distracted. Stared at his hands and noticed the hint of a tattoo sneaking from underneath the uniform. Interesting, she would have never pinned the man as someone who would have a tattoo. A smile tugged at her lips. A part of her wanted quite badly to get to know him a bit more. “Your hair,” she asked “has it always been silver or it became like that with age?” Then she stopped embarrassed “I mean I am not saying that you look old. I just meant as if it got like that as you grew up.”

He lifted his head from the menu and his piercing green eyes settled on her “I was born like this. Apparently it runs in my family.”

“I am sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. I was just curious.”

He gave her a half a smile. It did not linger. It was quick and for a second she thought she had imagined it “I am used to it.” He tapped on the plastic menu “you haven’t decided yet?”

“Oh no, I don’t need a menu. I know it by heart and I know what I want.”

Emrys came back and both placed their orders and Aelin enjoyed the shocked expression on the captain.

“You can’t possibly eat all that stuff.”

“Watch me.”

The silence grew uncomfortable again. It looked as if he was chatty only when it came to work.

“Why did you join the airforce?”

For a moment he looked stunned at her question “I was eighteen and fresh out of high school. Happy I was done studying. My parents wanted me to go to uni, but the idea of spending four more years on books was not for me.” He explained and noticed she had he hands folded under her chin “One day I met Lorcan. We knew each other from before already, being both from Wendlyn and all. It was nice to see a friendly face in a new place. Anyway, he told me he had moved here to Terrasen with the TAF. He told me they were recruiting and I went to the base during an open day. The day after I had signed up and a month later I was starting pilot academy.”

“Where in Wendlyn?”

“Doranelle.”

“I was there once. On holiday with…” no, not time yet “with a friend. We loved it very much.”

He nodded “It’s a nice place, but I must admit that after so many years I feel like an adopted citizen of Terrasen. Orynth is quite a gorgeous place.”

Emrys came with their food and Rowan noticed how skilfully placed all the plates on the table. As if he was used to have all those orders from her.

“You can’t be serious and actually eat all this food.”

Aelin tackled her first plate “watch the pro at work, captain.” She gave him a smile and Rowan shook his head and tackled his food.

“Why firefighter?”

He noticed her still for a second and the happiness wash away from her face in an instant. Fuck. Wrong question already.

“I was eight.” She said playing with her food for a moment “I was out playing with some of my friends. I was on my way home when I saw two massive fire trucks in front of my house and my home on fire.” She placed the fork on the plate “I ran toward the house but this fireman stopped me. I was crying and calling for my parents. He hugged me, he told me they were working to try and save my parents. I remember trashing in his arms to get free but he held me tight.” She took a bit to keep herself busy while telling the story “he took me to the back of the engine and showed me some of the tools and explained to me how the engine worked. He distracted me while his colleagues worked to stop the fire and save my parents.” She finally met his gaze “it took them almost two hours to kill the fire. After that there was nothing left of the house and of my life. My parents had been found dead in the house. The gas boiler has suffered a fault and basically exploded. They stood no chance.”

“Aelin I am…” his hand moved slowly closer to hers and brushed it gently “I am so sorry.”

“When I grew up I decided I wanted to be like the firemen who attended my fire. I wanted to rush into a house on fire and try to save some person’s parents of spouse and help them avoid the loss I suffered. I wanted to be like the man who stood with me and distracted me.”

Her finger lifted a little and met his almost in acknowledgement “Aedion’s family took me in. As soon as I finished high school I was like you. I had no interest in uni. So I signed up for the fire academy.”

“Sorry for ruining lunch.”

She shook her head and flicked his finger playfully. That had been the first contact between them. He had always kept his distance and that little flicker of affection made he heart flutter. The man was a puzzle. He could go from stone cold bastard to this in a small amount of time.

Aelin finished her food and noticed the captain staring at her with curiosity.

“I cannot believe it.”

“Told you,” she smiled at him with a smug expression “and I am even going to get cake.”

“No you are not.”

In defiance she stood and went to the counter and ordered chocolate hazelnut cake from Emrys. She came back and sat down again and ate the whole slice.

“Remind me to apply for a mortgage if I ever take you out for dinner.” At those words Rowan froze. He did not mean to do say that. It was supposed to be a joke but he should have learned by now that he was bad at making jokes.

“I’ll keep that in mind, Iceman.”

His head shoot up and looked at her. She had used his callsign. Something that only his squadron members would ever use. They all had one. It was a tradition. But it also meant something. It was always the other pilots in the team who choose the callsign. Never the pilot himself. It was a rite of passage that welcome you in the squadron. In a family. He got his one because of his hair. Everyone thought it was because he was cool and calm under pressure but no. When he was still one of the FNG he went through his naming ceremony like all the others FNG and they had decided he was going to be iceman because with his hair he reminded them of a creature from the snowy glaciers of the Staghorn mountains, hence iceman. Hearing her calling him like that made his heart skip a beat.

“We don’t have call signs. We got nicknames but nothing official like you guys.” She polished the plate from the chocolate left from the cake “the guys usually call me Captain or Cap. Aedion is the worst. Because he is my cousin he takes the liberty to call me brat or menace. I should really write him up for insubordination.”

She tapped his hand “come on grampa, let’s get back to work.” And stood. Rowan had wanted to grab that hand and hold it for a moment. It felt as if a small shift had happened in their weird work relationship.

Aelin paid for the meal as promised and they walked back to the station “are you sure you will be able to concentrate with all that food in you?”

On the way back Aelin looked up at the sky and noticed a few flakes that had started to follow. “Looks like it’s going to snow.”

She turned her head and caught Rowan sniffing the air, the eyes closed and a relaxed expression. The hard lines of his face had disappeared and the faint smile on his lips changed him completely. Yes, the man was hot but there was more to it. The very rare times that his face softened his eyes lit up as well turning a deeper green and made him stunning. She had a feeling those moments were rare and was glad that she had caught at least a couple. Like right now, his body relaxed enjoying the first flakes of snow. That was a precious insight in the man at her side.

“You like winter?” She broke the magic.

His eyes snapped open and his face turned hard again as if he hated being caught enjoying something.

“I do.” He said softly “I love the snow and winters in Terrasen are incredible.

Aelin smiled. His scent. His scent reminded her of Terrasen. Pine and snow. She had smelled it the other day while she was inside his plane and he was quite close to her. He smelled like winter and realised for a second that the nickname Iceman was perfect as well for that reason and not just because he could be a cold hearted bastard. They got back to the station and she found it quiet apart from Brullo and Luca near the fire engine. Apparently the man was explaining the youngster some of the routine checks they performed. He was their resident engineer and mechanic so he was the best one for that type of training.

“Nice lunch, Cap? Did you eat all the food at Emrys?”

“The vegetables are still there. They are safe.” Aelin turned when noticed that the joke came from Rowan.

Brullo and Luca burst out laughing “oh he is good.” Added the older man.

“My eating habits are the joke of the station.”

“Cap, they are insane.” Added Luca.

Aelin turned to Rowan and he lifted and eyebrow as if to say I agree with them.

She turned again on her colleagues “one more joke from the two of you and I’ll have you scrub the station from top to bottom with a toothbrush.” Then she turned on her feet and walked away to her office. 

Rowan tapped his hat in salute to the two men and followed her. He found her in the kitchen making coffee “Do you drink coffee?”

“I don’t think I could function without it.”

“Good. We basically drink it by the litre. It keeps you alive on a night shifts.”

She made some coffee and offered him a mug “milk, sugar?”

“Black, thank you.”

He watched her as she dropped two spoonfuls of sugar in it “All this sugar is not good for you.”

“Shhh you heathen.”

He rolled his eyes and took a sip of his coffee “Thank you for lunch by the way.”

“My treat, for working with me.” She apologised, while leaning against the counter and drinking her coffee.

“You are not as bad as I thought. I agree with Aedion, you are a brat and a menace but I can work with that.” Bad idea. Rowan noticed anger flash in her eyes.

“I am not having you calling me that.” She slammed the cup on the counter “you barely know me and I have been professional, sure if cracking a joke or two makes me a brat it’s your problem you need sense of humour. I have been busting my ass to fix the shit that went down in your station.” She took a step toward him and Rowan braced himself “I know how I run my station. I am aware of every single problem or fault that happens here. Your fucking hangar went down in a blaze of glory and you had no idea of the shitstorm about to happen.” She was now a few mere centimetres from his face and a foolish part of him wanted to push her against the counter and kiss her senseless. She was mad at him and all he thought was how her lips would feel. What was wrong with him?

“Don’t ever call me that again with that smug face of your because I have no problems removing that smirk with a punch.”

Rowan kept staring at her in silence, not risking saying a word while she was that mad at him. Damn the woman had fire in her. And it did not matter he was getting a well deserved lashing down from her, he could not stop thinking that she was beautiful. Not just physically, she was fierce, brave and passionate and he was irremediably drawn to her.

Which it was totally crazy since they had met the day before.

“Now get the fuck out of my station. We are done for today.” And she stepped back.

“Captain, I did not mean to offend you.”

“I said out.” She repeated through gritted teeth “I have your contact. I will let you know when I am in the mood to meet you again.” She grabbed her coffee and walked away from him.

Rowan stood still and stared at the spot where she had been. He ran a hand through his hair and cursed himself for his stupidity. They had finally set aside the bad start they had, and messed up everything again.

He picked up his cap on the counter and then realised he had left all the documents in her office. He was about to walk to her but then changed his mind bad idea. So he just left the station, got back to his car and drove back to the base.

Aelin was furious. Why did he have to go and ruin everything with his bloody mouth of his?

That beautiful mouth of his.

She paced the office for ten minutes then she left, went to changing room and changed into her training gear. Some exercise will do her good to clear her head.

Aedion found her twenty minutes later “here you are,” he shouted as she ran back and forth in the yard with a dummy on her shoulders.

“Aelin!” He shouted when she did not stop. When she ignored him again he went in front of her and stopped her “Aelin.”

“What?” She growled dropping the dummy on the ground with a loud thump. She was breathless.

“I thought you were with the captain.”

She ignored him and grabbed the dummy again but Aedion stopped her and grabbed her hand “did something happened?”

“Yes, he happened. He is an arsehole and I don’t know why I am bothering to help him.”

“Because it’s your job.”

“Well, he can go and ask west station for all I care.”

Aedion shook his head “they are in our territory.”

Aelin ran a hand through her hair.

“Did he do something to you? Because if he did I am very good at hand to hand combat. I’ll destroy his stiff arse.”

Aelin chuckled. Aedion had always been very protective with her.

“He called me a brat and a menace. He said that I am not as bad as he thought and that he agrees with you for my nicknames.”

Aedion laughed “that’s why you are mad at him? Ace, I love you but you can be both.”

She sat down on the dummy “I know. But if you say it it doesn’t bother me. We grew up together. You know me better than anyone. He instead…” she punched the dummy’s face “he had this smug face and he used this tone like a condescending prick.”

She groaned “you can be a brat and a menace but I can work with it,” she repeated in a mocking tone “I am the one doing him a favour to help him. Idiot.”

“You just want to find an excuse to hate him and push him away from you.” He sat down on the dummy beside her “Ace, could it be that you like him but you are still too scared to allow another man in your life?”

“No. I have known the guy for two days. And no, I do not like him.” She protested.

“Would it be that bad?”

Aelin stood and faced him “I am not interested in getting any closer to him than what works dictates. Lie. Lie. Lie. Lie.

“You are overreacting and you are behaving like a brat and proving him right.”

She pushed him off the dummy “you are on truck duty for the whole week.” Aelin grabbed the dummy and went back to her training.

Rowan finally made it back to the base and went straight to his office but Lorcan intercepted him.

“You are back early. I thought you were going to be at the station all afternoon.”

Rowan ignored his CO and plopped on his chair and closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“That bad, eh?” Joked Lorcan at the man’s reaction.

“I opened my damn mouth. That’s what I did.”

Lorcan sat on the chair on the opposite side of the desk “What did you do? I thought you were the guy who counted till ten before opening his mouth. That’s why I gave you this assignment. I need this to go smoothly and fix all the shit that the old CO messed up. If I wanted to piss off the TFD’s captain I would have sent Moonbeam.”

Rowan snorted “probably would have been better. Far more charming than this cranky old bastard.”

“I have seen the woman. Fenrys would end up fucking everything. Literally.”

Lorcan sat back relaxed “I am coming to the station tomorrow and I will talk to her and bring her back into our good books.”

“You?” Rowan scoffed “if there is someone who has a worse temper than me is you, Lorcan.”

“I’ll be my charming self.” The man joked.

“The gods save us all.” Rowan joked standing and pacing the office “trying to scare her will not work either.”

“I noticed that. I wish some of our men would have that level of balls. Quite amazing for a woman.” Rowan’s head snapped at his CO’s words.

“Don’t even dare say anything like that in her face or you are a dead man.”

He and Lorcan would go along on most of the days but on some concepts, Lorcan still followed the good old fashioned ideas that for example females were not suited for the military, a topic they had many fights on. Rowan had tried to open up the ranks to a few more females in the squadron but Lorcan had rejected the idea every single time.

“You know how I feel about those things.”

“Yes, our very progressive man. Equality and all.”

“You can be such an arsehole.” Rowan stopped at the window “even the Navy is accepting women. Their recruitment for female officers is up by 40%. We are still to celebrate when we will have our first female officer.”

Lorcan growled “well, then move to the Navy.” He stood annoyed “flying a jet is not like service on an aircraft carrier!”

Rowan turned furious “you are not seriously telling me that you don’t believe a woman could fly a jet.” He slammed his fist on the table “I have seen Aelin in action and during drills. I have seen her jump into a building on fire without any second thought to save one of our men. I have seen her drag a dummy twice her size off a burning building while wearing the fire suit and an oxygen tank on her shoulder. She could probably do a vertical, pull 9G and then get off the plane and have a dance in our face. She is definitely not the fragile thing you think she is just because she is a woman.”

“What is your point?”

“Stop being a misogynist prick.”

Rowan phone went off and Lorcan moved away “if you are coming tomorrow, you leave that attitude behind.” Lorcan left and Rowan took the call. Once he was done he sat back down on his chair and looked outside noticing the snow falling and a gentle smile tugged his lips at the memory of the moment they had shared at the restaurant. He had to apologise. And quickly.

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[ggukkiedae]

Heyyyy could I please request a scenario with seri and yeonjun??? Maybe protective big bro yeonjun, lots of angst ! Thank you :)

of course hun! sorry this took pretty long though 🤧 anyway, here’s  some yeonri for youuuu (but it’s not really angsty asdkjkf i don’t really know where i was headed with this)

Yeonjun was worried for Seri, that was for sure. 

Beomgyu and Taehyun had come back from school without her saying she told them to go ahead because she had something to study and work on. Understandably, she was in the year above them, so they didn’t have the same classes, but she always made sure to go home with Beomgyu and Taehyun. 

That’s how he found himself standing in front of her school, waiting for her to come. 

He checked his phone. It was already seven, so why was she not coming out. He was getting antsy to the point where the security guard took pity on him and just let him go inside. He quickly raced to her classroom only to find her hunched over books. She had fallen asleep on her desk. With a sigh of relief, he approached her. He raised his hand to shake her awake, but his eyes fell on something crumpled on the ground by her feet. He didn’t know why, but he picked it up and read it. 

“Oh, god no,” he muttered as he processed what he was reading. It looks like some people (three by the looks of the different handwritings on the paper) were saying bad things about Seri. Mostly about how she was a fake who didn’t deserve to debut… He saw names in the corner. Seyeon, Minseo, and Ahreum. He kept those names in mind.

“Aigoo, Yoon Seri,” Yeonjun shook his head before kneeling down next to her sleeping form and gently shaking her awake. “Lily? Wake up. Time for us to go home.”

“Home?”

He watched her slowly sit up and stretch to get her senses back in order. The way she stretched made him smile a little. Of all the times she could resemble a cat, it was most evident when she stretched.

“Oh,” she was taken back when she saw her eldest member beside her, “oppa? What are you doing here?”

“I came to pick you up,” he smiled at how she only then processed he was the one who woke her up. “This is the first time I’ve been in your classroom, huh? How about you show me around?”

Seri nodded excitedly before standing up and showing Yeonjun the different parts of their classroom. “This is my seat! I sit beside Chaeryoung. You know her from Itzy. We usually stick together because we miss about the same amount of classes. Our board has thies little messages we all wrote for our future selves, look!”

He followed her and looked at the series of papers on the corner of their board. He took a look at hers. You’ll do well with them by your side as long as you’re you. It was something simple yet so encouraging, especially to someone like Seri. He lightly ruffled her hair.

“Cute,” he told her before taking her hand and her bag. She picked up her folder and papers just before he pulled her out. Yeonjun made a mental note to set the four 01 and 02 liners’ alarms later by a bit for the next day.

Yeonjun was peacefully scrolling through his phone when the door to the bedroom opened. He glanced up and saw Seri place her bag on her bed and walk towards him.

“You’re home early today,” he sat up when she settled on his bed. “No after school project working or studying?”

“Not today,” she crossed her legs before placing three sheets of paper in between them. “Care to explain what these are?”

He picked up the papers and skimmed through them. A smirk made its way up to his face when he realized what they were. He wiped the grin off his face and feigned ignorance.

“Are these written apologies? What’s wrong? Did someone do something bad to you?”

“These three classmates who don’t really like me gave them to me today,” she raised her eyebrow. “You don’t suppose it has something to do with the fact that our alarms were set one hour later than usual this morning, do you?”

“You think so?” He asked her, a small smile on his face.

“Stop,” she laughed, “I know it was you. Chaeryoung told me you came in this morning and talked to them. How’d you even know?”

“I saw the note yesterday,” he admitted, “and I guess it was pretty obvious considering you don’t talk much about school. I mean, you’re taking up musical theatre, so it’s a little suspicious you don’t talk our ears off about it.”

He grunted a little when Seri lunged forward and hugged him. “Thank you, oppa. You didn’t have to.”

“It’s you,” he hugged her back. “I wanted to. Just make sure to tell me if they get back at it, okay?”

“As long as you promise you won’t use threatening or violence.”

He laughed but nodded. As long as she was happy and not being brought down then he was fine with doing anything.

[random-thought-depository]

A short vignette I wrote as part of a discussion on a forum I post on, with past/present tense and other grammar and formatting and math somewhat cleaned up from the rough version I posted there, and I’ve given it a title; it is a stand-alone piece and is not connected to any of my main SF settings; I took the liberty of re-using some relatively generic planet names and taking a little inspiration from John M. Dollan’s Arcbuilder Universe (if you’re interested you can find links to a little of John M. Dollan’s more recent writing on his Twitter):

----------

Advantages of Specialization

As I departed Cordillera, I passed a sign of the times. There was one of the big Hegemony freighters, on its leisurely upward fall toward minimum safe distance. It was much too far away for unaided eye visual contact, of course, but Mariposa's telescope gave me a fine view of it. And Cordillera space traffic control had supplied all the relevant details, of course; planned trajectory and burn timing, alpha-numeric designation - and a name; the Humbolt. Humbolts are whales that sing. Appropriate, I guess; it was big. Next to it little Mariposa would look - well, like a butterfly flitting around a whale, I guess. Mariposa is 50 meters long and masses 100 tons, 500 tons fueled up, with space for about an elephant's mass in cargo. Mariposa could fit inside Humbolt's fuel tank. Mariposa could fit inside the nozzle of Humbolt's fusion rocket.

Humbolt had finished its escape burn from Cordillera two days ago and it was just falling up now, not very fast. Its orbital rockets had burned at a leisurely .5 MSS, only a twentieth of a G, and hadn't burned very long. It hadn't even reached escape velocity from Cordillera's sun. Mariposa had burned hard, 3 G on the way up from Cordillera's surface, then 1.2 G the rest of the way to outbound flight velocity. Mariposa passed Humbolt quickly; the velocity differential was huge. Mariposa hadn't just reached escape velocity from the local sun, Mariposa had reached escape velocity from the galaxy! If I never burned her rocket or did a hyperspace jump again Mariposa would fall up very long and very far, into intergalactic space, where she'd fall up until her atoms evaporated by proton decay or the Big Rip tore her apart or she disintegrated from the slow sandpapering of the intergalactic medium, whatever came first. Of course, that wouldn't happen. I'd reach the local hyperlimit and jump to hyperspace in three months or so, then it'd be a few days in hyperspace, then another two months to get from the 82 Eridani hyperlimit to Hyannis. Funny; a few months to cross a few dozen AU, a few days in hyperspace to cross dozens of light years, a light year is more than 60,000 AU. Our-space distances aren't applicable to travel in hyperspace, of course, but I still think it's funny. Lots of people do.

As I passed Humbolt I studied telescopic images of it, studied its weaknesses, and thought maybe a whale wasn't the right analogy for it after all. Something from an ocean was, but not a whale. It was more like one of those deep sea fish that explode when you bring them to the surface, into the light.

Humbolt hadn't landed at San Ysidro Spaceport. It couldn't have. It wouldn't have survived trying. Humbolt is a pure creature of the void, that will never know the kiss of air or the touch of ground. It unloads and loads cargo at space stations, leaving transport to and from planetary surfaces to specialized local surface-orbit shuttles.

Humbolt is long thin pillar more than a kilometer long, with the fusion rocket at one end, a spherical fuel tank and the cargo and a small crew section spun for centrifugal gravity at the other end, and huge radiator wings between them. The long pillar is to protect the rest of the ship from the heat and radiation of the fusion drive. The fusion drive has a maximum rated acceleration at full cargo load of 2 MSS - one-fifth of 1 G. If Humbolt tried to accelerate much faster with a full cargo load, its engine would melt with waste heat. And if by some miracle it got itself up to 1 G that long pillar would snap and crumble. Put Humbolt on the surface of an Earthlike world, and it would disintegrate into a mass of rubble. If Humbolt tried to land like Mariposa, it would have the aerodynamics of a brick, and pieces of it would snap off from air friction, and its great rocket wouldn't have the thrust to control its own fall, and its own weight would break its back before it even touched the ground.

Maybe a whale isn't a bad analogy after all. The blue whale is the biggest animal to ever live on Earth; it's easier to be big in the water.

It's about efficiency, see. Humbolt should never experience a force of acceleration much above 2 MSS, so it's not built to take more than .5 G or so. That's a good safety margin, given the gentle acceleration its drive maxes out at. Building it fragile like this is efficient. Saves mass. Saves construction material. Saves fuel. Saves money.

It doesn't even really have a cargo hold. They just attach stuff to the front. Lots of different configurations are possible. On that trip Humbolt's front end was a greebled sphere of snapped-together rectangular cargo containers half a kilometer across, with a sort of tarp draped across it to protect it from high-velocity dust. There must have been hundreds of thousands of tons of cargo in that greebled sphere of cargo containers. It must have been a non-trivial fraction of Cordillera's yearly offworld trade. Cordillera isn't a big colony; it's a dusty dry world with only a few small seas, marginally habitable, only 160 million inhabitants. The sphere is the most efficient shape for a container, and the protective tarp is light, and Humbolt doesn't need to worry about streamlining. Trucks and trains and planes and boats and Mariposa are long and narrow because if you have to worry about streamlining you want to minimize frontal area. Humbolt doesn't have to worry about friction, so its cargo can be gathered into a sphere, which is efficient.

Free traders like me with ships that can take off and land like Mariposa are still a lifeline on Cordillera. Until a few years back Cordillera had just one orbiting space station to service big cargo ships like Humbolt. The Hegemony gave them another one a few years back though. Gave them another space station. A whole space station. Just dragged it in all the way from Alpha Centauri. The Hegemony must have plans for Cordillera.

Humbolt fell behind quickly. After they'd passed a few million kilometers behind they sent a text message telling me they were about to fire up the big fusion rocket. The burn timing was already registered with Cordillera space control who'd passed it on to me, of course; it was just standard procedure. The Hegemony were sticklers for this kind of thing. The contents of the message were very standard too; if it hadn't been composed by a computer it might as well have been. I wondered if it was AI composed or some sort of standardized form they had a human fill out. There'd be an audio warning and check-in too.

The audio warning was less standardized. A male voice, with an accent that might have been Tolimanish, saying, "This is the Kentauric Hegemony nationalized transport KDY-442-A74F, the Humbolt, calling free trader Mariposa. Hello, Miss, uh ... Miss Cherinise? Did I pronounce that right? Just as per standard procedure we're giving you a redundant warning that we're going to fire up the big atomic flashlight in 600 seconds. Please acknowledge."

Mariposa and Humbolt were almost seven light seconds apart at this point; far enough apart for light lag to noticeably influence conversation. I could have fired up the subspace radio, but Humbolt hadn't bothered, and I wasn't going to spend power on it if they weren't.

I sent back, "This is free trader Mariposa, I understand and acknowledge your message. I see we have the same destination. Does that make this a race? Seems to be going pretty well for me so far if so; I left after you and I'm already ahead of you."

I couldn't resist the dig, even though I knew it was lame and wasn't even an effective one, it just drew attention to my own weakness. I made it sound happy, like I was joking and saying something to have an excuse to talk to somebody for a few minutes.

The voice from the Humbolt said back, "You'd lose. Might want to make sure any un-hardened electronics are protected before we fire the big rocket, and maybe put your fuel tank between your crew and cargo compartments and us, just to be extra safe. You should be OK at that distance, but it's gonna be some real Manhattan Project hours out here when we fire. KDY-442-A74F over and out."

I said back, "Mariposa's been in battles and flare star megaflares and I've had to navigate more than one particularly nasty gas giant and brown dwarf magnetosphere. My ship's built tough, I'll be fine. Free trader Mariposa, over and out."

For some minutes Mariposa and Humbolt fell up away from Cordillera's sun, glowing only with the warmth of life support and radar and power reactor standby power and cargo environment maintenance. Then Humbolt's main rocket fired.

Mariposa can do 4 G at a steady burn, more in a sprint. The big limit is my own tolerance. Compared to Mariposa's muscular rocket, Humbolt's great rocket is weak in thrust. It imparts the gentlest of pushes. Humbolt's great radiator wings soon sizzle with heat at a fifth of a G. It ejects less than 200 kilograms of fuel per second, for a ship that masses hundreds of thousands of tons fueled and loaded. It's built for fuel efficiency, endurance, not thrust. The big rocket fires continuously for more than two weeks, compared to Mariposa's 22 hour 1.2 G burn.

And that efficiency implies its own sort of power. That 200 kilograms flies out of the rocket nozzle at more than two percent the speed of light. Humbolt's big rocket is a butterfly's sigh in terms of thrust, but in terms of energy it's a nuclear bomb that explodes continuously for more than two weeks. Ships like Humbolt have to maneuver near planets using weaker secondary orbital rockets because of the damage that storm of radiation and high-velocity charged particles might do. Alerts squawked nervously as Humbolt became a dark speck at the end a brilliant comet of charged particles and radiation thousands of kilometers long, the brightest thing in Mariposa's sky except for the local sun.

Mariposa uses not a lot of energy to eject a lot of fuel not very fast. This gives it the thrust to blast off the surface of a world. It's like one of those gasoline-powered SUVs you see on a lot of low-population worlds with big stretches of hostile terrain; go anywhere no matter how bad the road, power over rocks and through sucking mud puddles. But it's like an SUV; it guzzles fuel. And fuel-guzzling, in space, ultimately means slow. Humbolt uses terawatts of energy to eject a little fuel very fast, and this makes it fuel-efficient, and fuel-efficient in space ultimately means fast.

The man was right. If it's a race, Mariposa will lose, I'll lose. Humbolt will reach the hyperlimit of Cordillera's system in a little over a month, reach Hyannis in a little over two months, well ahead of me. And with ships like Humbolt the Hegemony can charge shipping prices half of the minimum I can charge to stay in business and come out with a 20% profit. And they can ship high-bulk goods that are just out of reach for me. Mariposa is a flying fuel tank with an engine and a crew quarter and a cargo compartment attached, stuffed into something shaped like a delta-winged aircraft. Humbolt gets almost three times my delta V while being less than half fuel by mass.

Free traders like me kept trade flowing through the age of fragmentation and economic contraction after the disintegration of the Terran Empire. Our tough versatile little blast off from anywhere land anywhere rockets were just what human space needed back then. But it's getting tough for somebody like me to stay in business nowadays.

[luviedovey]

the you i fell in love with

connor murphy x female!reader

a/n: not me writing a fic about mike faist’s connor murphy 2 years after he left the show...... also Connor is probably ooc 

summary: you were Connor’s girlfriend who lived in the next town over, a little over a half hour away. his family didn’t know about you, no one did. he didn’t want his family or anyone he knew to scare you away. in the end, it didn’t really matter. he was gone. when the Connor Project came to be and Evan resigned from being co-president, you ran into him. you questioned him about his “friendship” with Connor and he told you everything.

set after the Murphy’s find out the truth and before the Evan/Zoe reunion at the orchard.

second person pov

warning: a few swear words, also very brief mention of depression and taking your own life, and Larry Murphy kind of being a dick

word count: 5,573

______

“Who are you exactly?” Evan questioned the girl who pulled him off to the side of the supermarket where no one else was around. To say he was a little nervous would be an understatement, he was freaking out on the inside.

“I’m so sorry! I probably scared you half to death dragging you along like that.. I just have some questions for you, if you don’t mind answering..?” You smiled at him sheepishly. Something about your awkward smile eased his mind a bit, but not enough. “No, sorry my mom actually is waiting for me by the-” “It’s about Connor!” You interrupted, looking at him through sad, heartbroken eyes. “..Please. Evan Hansen. I know you weren’t really friends with him. I know you weren’t even secret friends with him.. Because if you were, I would’ve known.”

Evan looked around before looking back at you, confused. “Who are you?” He asked for the second time. “I’m- I was Connor’s girlfriend. Y/N L/N. I met him 2 years ago at the apple orchard you guys rebuilt?  We both went there because we thought that no one else would be there and that it would be the perfect place to escape. His family and classmates never knew about me because he-” you laugh slightly,” he was afraid they would take me away from him. Or that his family would fight in front of me and he’d lose his cool or that his sister would say nasty things about him to ‘spare me from being in a relationship with him’ or even that the bullies at his school would turn me against him even though he knew damn well I could never.” You stopped rambling and passed him a Polaroid picture of the two of you, sitting against the chain link fence that surrounded the old abandoned apple orchard. You were looking up at Connor with heart eyes as he smiled back down at you. A real smile. This was the real Connor Murphy.

Evan looked up from the picture at you, shocked before quickly returning it to you. “Oh my god... You must think I’m such a h- horrible person for doing all this and pretending to be best friends with your- your dead boyfriend- I’m so sorry for your loss by the way- and making up all these stories about things we never really did and starting a whole online campaign about-” “Evan!” He stopped ranting, breathing heavily. “Breathe, okay? In through your nose, out through your mouth. Relax.”

It was silent for a moment before Evan mumbled a quiet, “Thank you.”

You smiled knowingly. “Now. Mind telling me everything?”

The two of you sat in your old beat up truck, as Evan told you everything. And by everything i mean everything. He started from the very beginning, “My dad left when I was 7 so now it’s just me and my mom. She works all the time at the hospital to support us and to pay for her education- she’s studying to be a paralegal- and so I’m usually home alone. I have anxiety so I take medication and go to therapy where I have to write a letter to myself hyping myself up for the day and trying to be positive and stuff-” “’Dear Evan Hansen’...”

He looked up from his hands at you, “Yeah.. Connor had one of my letters when he- um.. he took it from me earlier that day..” “It was your therapy letter? Why did he take it from you?” “Oh! You see he didn’t actually know it was a letter to myself for therapy he just thought I was being creepy and writing about his sister in a letter to print it out where he would find it and freak out and explode or something- That wasn’t why though, I didn’t even know he was in the room with me, I thought I was alone. He signed my cast before he read my letter, though. He said, ‘Now we both can pretend we have friends.’ Which is why I thought doing what I did would be okay but it wasn’t and it never will be and I really shouldn’t justify my actions because it was-” “Evan breathe.” “Right, sorry.” “Don’t apologize, it’s okay.” “Okay sor-” You gave him a pointed look.

“O-okay...” You giggled slightly, looking out of the window at the supermarket parking lot, “So.. he ran out with your letter, pissed because he thought you were fucking with him... And then he killed himself.” “Yeah.”

“So what happened after that?” “The Murphy’s showed up in the principal’s office three days later. I knew something was wrong because Connor and Zoe both weren’t in school and I know Connor skips but it’s not likely that they would both be out on the same days. Zoe doesn’t really skip school- she’s not that kind of person.” You nodded, gesturing to get to the point. “Right, they called me into the office because Connor had my letter and my name was on it so they thought the letter was for me. I tried to tell them it wasn’t- that I was the one who wrote it, but they were in denial. They kept reading parts of my letter back to me from memory, trying to make sense of it but I couldn’t tell them- I couldn’t get through to them....” He sighed.

“They invited me over to dinner and I went because I wanted to set the record straight but when I got there, they wanted to hear everything I knew about Connor. But I didn’t know anything, so whenever they brought something up I just nodded and agreed. Zoe was getting suspicious so I started to make things up. ‘Connor loved to talk about how much he hated skiing.’ ‘Connor took us to A La Mode and we ate our ice cream in the apple orchard where we climbed trees and raced across the open fields.’ ‘We would quote songs by our favorite bands.’ ‘We’d tell jokes no one else would understand.’ All lies. And they believed them. They wanted me to keep talking, they needed me to. They were broken and I just wanted to help them. I told them that we were friends on the internet where we’d email each other to talk about our day and stuff. And Connor would use a secret email account because he knew his dad was checking his regular email, and he didn’t want anyone to know we were friends.... Now that I think about it, this kind of sounds like your story.” You laughed, lightening the mood, and nodded.

“You know, you really aren’t that far off from who Connor was, despite the fact that you were making it up as you went. He wasn’t the monster that everyone thought he was. I mean sure in 2nd grade he pushed over a printer because he had a little tantrum about being skipped for line leader, but what kid doesn’t have a tantrum at least once in their life? It definitely didn’t help that all those kids grew up, making the story sound worse than it really was. He was always angry and stand-offish because everyone in his life would say shit about him that wasn’t true or be nice to him to get close enough to learn something new about him and then turn around and make fun of him for it. He was battling depression and needed help but his family didn’t want to believe there was anything actually wrong with him. I was the only one to believe him. To believe in him. But I’m just one person, and I guess that wasn’t enough..” You trailed off. Evan awkwardly put a hand on your shoulder, rubbing it with his thumb as a way to console you.

It was silent for a moment. “I think he would’ve liked you. It would’ve taken him a while to warm up to you, but I really do think the two of you could’ve been friends.” Evan smiled slightly, before frowning. “I pretended to be his friend for so long, but Alana- she’s the co-president of the Connor Project- started getting suspicious about our friendship, saying that the letters didn’t make sense because it sounded like Connor was getting better so I showed her Connor’s ‘suicide note’-” “Dear Evan Hansen, It turns out this wasn’t an amazing day after all. This isn’t going to be an amazing week or an amazing year. Because, why would it be?”

“...Yeah. She believed me too. I told her not to show anyone because it was a really private thing, but she just said that was exactly what people needed to see. She posted it and people on the internet started to attack the Murphy’s, saying things like ‘They’re a rich family who couldn’t bother to pay for their son to get help?’ and ‘I’m not saying to do anything illegal but their house is the pale yellow house at the end of the cul de sac with a red door.’” Your hand flew to your mouth in shock. “They even leaked Zoe’s phone number and their house phone! Everything was just spiraling out of control and I didn’t know what to do. I panicked and the only thing I could think of to do was just.. them the truth. So I did and I told them everything. I wrote the letter, Connor took it from me, we weren’t really friends, and it was all a lie. I haven’t spoken to the Murphy’s since.” He fiddled with his hands in his lap and sighed. “And.. I’m scared. Scared that one day I’ll go to school and everyone will hate me or that the Murphy’s will ruin my life.. Not that I don’t deserve it, after what I did? I deserve worse.”

“Evan.. No one deserves that, especially not you. What you did wasn’t exactly the right thing to do but you had the best intentions.” He nodded silently, “What did you want to ask me earlier anyways?”

You turned, facing down at the wheel in front of you. “I wanted to ask you if you knew where he was buried.”, a tear slipped from your eye as you sighed, smiling sadly, “I didn’t exactly get to say goodbye..” “I could go with you if you’d like. To show you the way?”

“Thank you, Evan.”

___

During the ride to the cemetery, You and Evan talked, trying to lighten the mood, and quickly became best friends. The two of you didn't have so much in common but you were both very comfortable and supportive of each other. You were like the siblings neither of you had.

The two of you stepped out of the truck, and begun walking to Connor’s grave. “Oh! Hold on..” You turn back, grabbing a beautiful bouquet of red roses and pink tulips, with a small white card that said, “I’m sorry I couldn’t help you enough when you needed it, Connor. I will never forget you, mon amour. I love you, always.” Connor didn’t have a specific favorite flower but he did appreciate their meanings. Roses represent love, and tulips represent a declaration of love. You hoped that even though he was gone he would still appreciate the thought you put into it.

The two of you walked up to his grave. It was at this moment when it hit you that he was really gone forever. You dropped to your knees, carefully placing down the flowers. Tears streaming as you silently sobbed, Evan’s hand on your left shoulder and the ghost of Connor’s hand on your right.

“I’m sorry, Connor. I love you more than you’ll ever know..”

The two of you sat there in silence for a while, before agreeing to leave in case the Murphy’s decided to visit. Neither of you really wanted to run into them and have to explain who you were and why you were there. “Do you want to come over to my house? You look emotionally exhausted.” You laughed and nodded, starting up the car.

___

“Why didn’t you come to town sooner?” You sighed, “I just.. I didn’t want to believe that he was really gone, you know? And coming here, seeing his grave, and his grieving family just confirmed what I prayed wasn’t true.” You sipped on the hot chocolate in your hands, staring out of the window at the pouring rain and cloudy night sky. “Have you met them yet?” Evan mumbled, typing on his laptop on the couch beside you. He pulled up the Connor Project and read about all the many different things Alana was doing. “No.. But I feel like I should? Like I know things about Connor that would give them closure but I can’t bring myself to go over and talk to them.”

“If only there was a way for you to show them what Connor was really like so you wouldn’t have to talk to them...” It was silent for a moment, “Actually... Connor and I used to write each other handwritten letters and take a lot of pictures together..” “Well what are the odds..” he giggled, “Maybe you could give those to them? The ones that aren’t super personal?” You sat together deeply in thought.

“But I can’t exactly bring myself to just give them away... Maybe I could copy them and white out all the personal stuff? Like the things between me and Connor only, and my face and name?” Evan nodded, agreeing that that would be the best option. You’d create a box filled with things Connor wrote and pictures of when he was truly happy, then leave it on the Murphy’s doorstep. It was a safe, no-contact interaction.

___

The next night, you went over to Evan’s house with the box labeled “The Real Connor Murphy. (i’m so sorry for your loss.. i thought maybe you would like to have these to know who he really was.)” Evan gave you directions to the Murphy household. Eventually, you parked in front of the pale yellow house, all three cars were in the driveway. “You better be quick if you don’t want anyone to see you.. Just.. keep the car running, drop off the box, ring the doorbell, and book it back here and drive off. Don’t turn back.” “Okay super spy.” You laughed nervously.

You walked up to the door, placing the box neatly on the ground with a single rose and tulip tapped on the top, rang the doorbell, and ran off. You jumped into the car and drove off just as Evan, who was previously hiding away from the car window, saw the red front door begin to open.

___

“Larry!” Cynthia Murphy exclaimed, picking up the box from the front porch to the dinner table, placing it beside the small card they had found on a mysterious bouquet of flowers they found the day before against Connor’s gravestone. “What is that?” He asked, looking at it with disinterest. “I found it on the porch, it says ‘The Real Connor Murphy. I’m so sorry for your loss.. I thought maybe you would like to have these to know who he really was.’ It’s in the same handwriting as the note we found on that bouquet of flowers. It even has the same two flowers! It has to be the same person. Someone who really loved him...” “What’s inside?” Zoe asked while reading and rereading the small card.

Cynthia opened the box to find handwritten letters from Connor and a mystery girl, photos of Connor laughing, smiling, pouting, hugging and kissing someone with a scratched out face. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes. This was the real Connor, a whole different version of him that the three were completely unaware of. Seeing him like this was just so unfamiliar to them, they couldn’t believe their eyes for a moment. Zoe picked up a letter, reading it aloud,

“Dear Y/N

Things haven’t been going so well lately, my parents are always fighting, my mom pretends like there’s nothing wrong, my dad doesn’t pay attention to anyone but himself anymore, and Zoe hates me.

Not that I blame her, I hate myself too. But I don’t hate myself when I’m around you. I’m so glad to have you around. You make life just a little easier every day.

It’s harder when you’re not around, I get angry easier when I get bullied at school or when Zoe says something awful about me. I just feel like I’m an airplane about to crash, but with you around I feel like I’m flying. Smooth sailing. Floating even. You are the most perfect girl I’ve ever met.

Thank you. I love you.

Sincerely, Con”

“He.. he had a girlfriend..?” She said, in shock. The three began to shuffle through the letters, photos, and little post-it notes, putting them in piles. “These are all copied..” “Maybe whoever left them didn’t want to give the originals away..?” “Maybe because she still cares about and loves him and didn’t want to give these away. They seem so.. personal.” Cynthia picked up a post-it note,

“Tu es belle Y/N, je t'adore.”

“What does that even mean?” Zoe pulled out her phone going straight to google translate, “It’s says ‘you are beautiful, i adore you.’.. I didn’t know Connor knew french.” “He never took a class for it. Maybe he learned it on his own?” Larry picked up a photo this time, Connor was standing in front of the apple orchard’s rotting old sign in the middle of the field, fake pouting and wearing a thin little flower crown you had made him. “I didn’t know Connor had any feelings other than anger.” Cynthia hit his arm. “Wait,” Zoe said, grabbing the attention of her bickering parents, “This letter has a picture and a post-it note attached to it.”

“Dear Con,

Thank you for the painting, it’s absolutely beautiful. You are so so talented. The way you put so much thought into every detail is truly admirable. You make everything you paint so exciting and captivating, even if the thing you’re painting isn’t very exciting at all. You see the beauty in the things that most people never give a second glance.

It kind of reminds me of the way I look at you.

To most people that don’t know you, you are a “freak” or “school shooter chic”. But, when I look at you, you are none of those things. You are beautiful, you are captivating, you are perfectly imperfect. You are worth it. Don’t give up on me darlin’.

I love you.

Sincerely, Y/N/N”

Attached to the letter was a photo of the painting mentioned. It was a painting of your beaten old navy blue truck parked beside a chain link fence that blocked it off from the open field. In the background, the sun was setting in a perfect blend of yellows, oranges, and reds. It was so detailed that if you weren’t already aware that it was a painting, you would’ve probably thought it was a photo taken from a fancy camera. “It really is beautiful..” Cynthia trailed off, wiping a stray tear that fell from her eye, “He was so talented. I didn’t even know he liked to paint! I mean I knew he took an art class but because he skipped school so much, I never even thought he went..”

“I guess we really didn’t know Connor at all..” Zoe begun to get angry, “What kind of family does that?! I mean we lived with him, I grew up with him, you two raised him, and we still didn’t even know who he was?! This.. this stranger even knew more about him than we did! Do you realize how sad this is? We have to learn about our dead family member from a complete stranger because when he was alive, we were too busy pretending like he was just acting out for attention instead of actually needing help! He needed help and we didn’t give it to him! It’s not like we couldn’t afford to take him to therapy! We just pretended like he was a monster and if we ignored him, he would stop..” She took a deep breath, “Maybe we were the monsters and his anger and tantrums were his cries for help...” “Zoe..” Cynthia reached for her arm but she pulled away, running up to her room while choking back tears. “..She’s right.”

The two were quiet for a long period of time, reading and rereading every letter and every note, memorizing every photo.

Cynthia held up a photo of Connor and a girl, whose face was completely scratched out, “Who are you..”

___

The next day was a particularly warm day so you and Evan drove over to A La Mode as a victory ice cream run of sorts. You really believed in treating yourself after small, seemingly insignificant, victories such as dropping off a box of precious letters to a grieving family. They needed closure, and you were willing to give it them. Evan, despite talking about A La Mode with the Murphy’s before, had never actually been. You two talked and ate your ice cream sitting in the back of your truck, looking out at the orchard across the street. The orchard was renamed the “Connor Murphy Memorial Orchard”, which made your heart a little heavy. Another reminder that he was really gone.

In the distance, on the other side of the fence sat the Murphy’s who were packing up from their weekly picnic. As they got up to walk out of the orchard, Zoe looked across the street. “Wait a minute..” Her parents stopped walking. “What is it Zoe?” Larry asked. She pointed at the car parked across the street, “Isn’t that the car that Connor painted his girlfriend in that letter? And Evan?” They looked across the street to find the same navy blue truck and a familiar face.

Evan paled, “The Murphy’s are looking at us!” he whisper-shouted. You began to turn around, but Evan stopped you. “No don’t look!” Your head whipped back to him as your face paled, “They recognized my car..” “How could they? It was night time when you dropped off the box and the door barely begun to open as you drove away..”

You smiled sheepishly, “I may or may not have given them a picture of a painting Connor made me of my truck parked beside that exact fence...” Evan facepalmed and gave you a deadpanned look. “Well they’re starting to walk across the street now.”

You shot up, “Let’s go.” “I mean would it be so bad to meet his parents?” Evan asked as the two of you scrambled into the front seats. “I’m just.. I’m not ready to have that conversation just yet.” You reversed out of the parking spot and drove back onto the road.

“Wait!” The Murphy’s shouted to the car as it begun to drive off. “There was a girl driving. Maybe that was her?” Cynthia asked, hopefulness clear in her voice. “She was with Evan, do you think the box of letters were fake?” Larry, always the optimist. “They couldn’t be, they were handwritten in Connor’s handwriting. Even the french notes.”

Zoe thought for a moment, “Well if we’re going to find her, we should probably start with Evan’s place first.” “Who said we were going to look for her?” Larry asked, “I’m not wasting my time on a wild goose chase. She’s already shown us enough about Connor.”

Cynthia turned to her husband, “How could you say that? She could be the one thing to bring us closer to our son. Our son who took his own life because he felt that that was the only path left for him. And you don’t want to try to find her? Find closure? Honestly Larry, what is wrong with you lately!” “I’m sorry. We’ll find her.”

___

The Murphy’s found themselves at the Hansen household. They knew you were there. After all, your truck was parked in the driveway. Inside were you, Heidi, and Evan. You had just met Heidi, but she loved you. She was thrilled to find that Evan had made a friend like you. You hung out with Evan even after learning he lied about being friends with your recently deceased boyfriend, and helped him when he started to rant and breathe heavy about it. You were so kind-hearted, forgiving, and calm by nature, that he was finally comfortable around someone. You were quickly best friends.

A knock at the door startled the three of you. “Are you guys expecting anyone?”, Heidi stood up to get the door as you and Evan turned to each other. He placed a hand on your shoulder to comfort you. “I suppose now’s a good time as ever, even though I really only had 24 hours to prepare myself..” You muttered, the two of you walking towards the front door.

The Murphy’s stopped and stared at you. “Are you.. Were you Connor’s girlfriend?” Cynthia asked. You nodded slightly, rubbing your arm as a nervous habit. “I’m Cynthia, this is Larry and Zoe.. We’re Connor’s family.” “I know.”

Heidi invited them in, everyone heading to the living room. “It’s so nice to finally meet you.. We just wanted to thank you for all the letters and photos of Connor. It feels like we’re finally getting to know who he really was on the inside.” You looked up from your lap, “No offense ma’am, but shouldn’t you have gotten to know your own son when he was still around?”

Zoe laughed, awkward and uncomfortable. “I really don’t think that’s funny.. especially considering you didn’t bother to get to know him either.” You said getting defensive, sticking up for Connor. Even if he was gone, you would never stop fighting for him. You did truly love him after all. “And before you say ‘Connor wasn’t easy to talk to. He would always yell and storm off.’, just think about the fact that having a relationship with someone is a two way street. You can’t expect someone to make an effort if you don’t try to do the same.”

The three looked at her in shock. Heidi and Evan smiling sheepishly in the background. “I..”, Larry started, but trailed off, not being able to come up with a proper response. Cynthia and Zoe looked deep in thought, unable to do the same.

It was quiet for a long amount of time.

“You’re right. You’re right and I wish it wasn’t true, but it is. And the only thing we could do now is learn from our mistakes. We don’t exactly know how we’re going to do that but we’re willing to try. And we’re hoping that you could help us? Help us figure out what to do and help us learn about who Connor was?” Zoe finally spoke up, her parents nodding along in agreement.

You were trying to heal from everything that happened and them putting all their hope on you wasn’t really helping. But maybe grieving together would allow everyone to heal and remember him in a more positive way? At least you hoped.

There’s a lot of hope pinned on others here.

“I suppose helping you all would let us heal.. together?” You said, slightly questioning your own words, turning toward Evan. He shrugged, giving you a thumbs-up. “But I don’t feel comfortable talking about Connor unless Evan is around.” You paused, “It’d be nice to have a familiar face around and we’re practically best friends now.. so..” “Yes of course.” The three stood up, walking to the front door, “We’ll come back here at 11AM tomorrow and drive to the orchard for a picnic if that’s alright with the two of you?” You and Evan nodded simultaneously. “Are you allergic to anything dear?”

With the shake of your head and a quick goodbye from Evan and Heidi, the Murphy’s were off.

“Am I doing the right thing here? Connor didn’t even want his family to known I existed! And now we’re going on a picnic with them? Where I have to talk about him?” You sat down, head in your hands as a headache begun to grow. Heidi placed her hand on your shoulder gently, “It’s going to be tough right now, and it’s going to be emotionally draining, I’m sure. But, if you really think that they deserve to know who he really was, that how they perceive him is wrong, then I think you are doing the right thing. You’re helping them, you’re helping yourself, and you’re helping Connor. You did say that he wanted to change the way people saw him. And you’d be doing that for him, even if he’s not physically around to see it happen.”

“Thank you, Heidi.”

___

“It’s really nice of you to agree to meet us here, Y/N. And Evan, it’s nice to have you here too.” Cynthia smiled, putting down a blanket for the picnic. Everyone sat down in an awkward silence.

“So... is.. is there anything you wanted to know that wasn’t already in the letters?” You asked, picking at the blades of grass beside you. Evan slapped your hand away from the grass, silently scolding you in true forest ranger fashion for messing with nature. The Murphy’s turned to each other, silently debating what to say and who would say it. No surprise to you and Evan that the one to speak up was Cynthia. The past couple of hours really showed that she was the only one who seemed to care, at least a little bit, about Connor when he was around, though Zoe and Larry were trying their best now.

“Why didn’t Connor bring you around to meet the family? It really seemed like you brought so much light to his life. I mean, you brought out parts of him that we didn’t even know existed!” “We thought he was a monster...” Zoe muttered sadly.

Your heart ached for this family, they really knew nothing about him.. “Connor didn’t bring me around because he was afraid you’d all ‘scare me off’,” you laughed slightly, “And Connor may have been a monster to you, but the real Connor was never a monster, to me or to anyone in my small town. In the next town over, no one knew who Connor was or what he’d done in the past. It was like a fresh start. Which I knew he desperately needed. I mean, with all the people bullying him, hurting him physically or emotionally or both, and spreading fake rumors about him since he was in the second grade? He was angry and hurting and he didn’t know how to deal with it, so he would lash out. But wouldn’t you react the same way? Build up walls so people wouldn’t hurt you? Isolate yourself so people couldn’t get close enough to?”

It went silent again, the only sound was the wind blowing in the summer breeze and the trees rustling in the background.

“She’s right.”

Everyone looked up, faces showing some form of shock. Larry continued, “All that stuff was going on in school and we made it worse for him at home. He asked us for help and we always assumed he was doing for attention. No matter how hard we tried to be a perfect family, we never were and we probably never will be.”

Zoe wiped away a stray tear. “Even though you couldn’t save your kid, maybe there’s a way you could save someone else’s?” He turned to you with a questioning glance. “I mean you have to admit, you’re a pretty wealthy family, maybe you can spend some time donating to suicide prevention hotlines and foundations that were created specifically to help those who are suffering from depression and suicidal thoughts like Connor was? I know for a fact that Connor hated the way that he felt, and would never want anyone to go through what he’d been going through, no matter how much of an asshole they were.”

Cynthia reached over to you, placing a hand on your knee, smiling as tears fell freely from her face, from all of their faces. “That’s a brilliant idea, Y/N.”

___

The picnic went on as you told them stories of your’s and Connor’s adventures together. Jumping over the fence to lay around in the yellow fields of the old orchard, helping your mom arrange flowers in her flower shop (he would always make sure his bouquets were well thought out in their meaning), buying junk food and snacks when having movie marathons on a Saturday night, sketching and painting moments together so you two would never forget them.

With each little story, his family knew more about him and you felt as close to him as you had been before that heart-wrenching summer day. 

You fell behind from the group as you all walked out of the orchard. Turning back and taking one last look at the entrance, the fields, and the growing trees of the Connor Murphy Memorial Orchard, you notice a figure dressed in black standing with his back against the fence. He gave you a smile, a genuine yet sad smile, mouthing the words “thank you” and “i love you”, before disappearing in the wind.

[blankdblank]

Brother Dearest Pt 54

English Composition, Trigonometry, Calculus, Astronomy, Sociology and Rhetoric filled your Tuesday roster of classes ended with you in your mother’s old chair lounging while you drafted up more of the first papers due soon then slept to follow the list of classes for your Wednesday line up complete with a stop in your Photography club. Soon enough a week had gone by and Saturday morning you sat up in wait for your appointment with Herc later today.

Since after Mass the prior Wednesday evening in a stare at the tv set across a legal pad sat diagrams for a new set that even had the guys in their continued paths through between offers of snacks and daily pears admiring the puzzling designs. Several parts and pieces you couldn’t even find in the books available to the public that had Elliot on his latest trip to your place in an amazed look over the pages he flipped through to your anxious stare. “This is impressive, and you dreamed all of this up?”

You nodded in his glance up, “We watched the night broadcast on the storm front last week and then when I woke up those were in my head.”

His grin spread, “Well this is a very good sign. Makes the sets available to the public infantile by comparison. Have you considered manipulation of materials yet?”

“I made a screw, like thing,” you said in lifting the half metal and glass like corkscrew shaped item you were a bit timid to show him, “But it doesn’t feel like any metal or glass I’ve felt before.”

Slid forward he claimed hold of the item and smiled at it in awe turning it this way and that, “Very impressive. Manipulation is quite impossible to master, only five of our brothers were able to even attempt it and only Erich was able to master it, part of why I imagine you chose him for your Second and guardian of your essence. Is this all you have created?”

“Outside of babies, ya,” that had him chuckle to himself, “Had to sleep nearly half a day after that.”

“Yes, it can be quite draining from what I hear. Chaos magic has a weight to it. This, much like a tube for the tv set you have over there is used to harness the image. However this is much more powerful and by this design you can harness solar power to load up the wave converter box, which I can imagine for you will be the most enjoyable to make.”

“Is it all going to have to be made by manipulation? Or can we find parts here on this planet?”

“The casing and some of the more simplistic materials, screws and brackets and of course the wooden box casing could be certainly. While the aspects that power and shift and project the image onto the screen must be from materials either you manipulate or we can bribe to be smuggled off of Asgard.”

“I can imagine Odin will be pleased to have us bribing his gate keeper to build myself a television set.”

Again he chuckled and replied, “Heimdall will not require bribes.”

“Not that we have his currency anyways.”

“You are learning,” he replied, “This time of growth will aid greatly in your remembrance.”

“Ah, yes, my awakening.”

“Not exactly, have to spark the memory first, then you can pave the way to awakening. The journals are helping to show you through time and spark your imagination and memory.”

“So, maybe five television sets then I can wake up?”

Again he chuckled, “Perhaps we can expand your horizons for topics of projects to keep your mind exercised.” The doorbell rang and he smiled stating, “That must be Herc.”

“Ooh, I’ll get the tea,” you said to the whine of the kettle that had him help you up to fetch it to pour for him to Eddie’s fetch of the door to let him in to join Ambrose in the living room for the weekly check up for the both of you. Back again mentally pushing the rolling cart you returned with Teddy on your hip after having helped him fix up some sliced fruit and cheese to go with your bowls of pickled beets and baby carrots.

Victor chuckled crossing your path accepting hold of Teddy, “Come on Teddy, let’s get back to your spot and watch aunt Bunny get her check up.”

Gladly to the excited wiggle of his sister on a padded quilt on the floor still goading her body in rocks back and forth on all fours on her way to the early stages of crawling beside Leanora on her back more concerned with the toy pinned between her feet that learning to move on her own at the moment Teddy sat on Victor’s lap on the chair closest to Leanora. James already in the living room fixed up your pillows again and moved the notes and part you had made aside to help serve out the tea and snacks so he could nestle you back into your seat.

Dawn from the other room asked, “Has anyone seen my coin purse?”

Eddie upon his return said with a grin, “You left it in the kitchen by your purse.” That had her let out a puff of air and smooth a hand over her clammy forehead, “You don’t need it you need to be in bed.”

Dawn replied, “I need something to do.”

Eddie, “You’ve already given your flu to Norma now you get your butt back in bed and I will bring you some soup.”

Dawn said, “I did not give-,”

Eddie sighed and turned to scoop her up in his arms and carry her back to bed, “Honestly Sweetheart you can be so stubborn sometimes. Now get back in bed and stay there the stew and rice will be finished in a little bit. Don’t make me lock the door.”

Her grumble was heard on the staircase and you chuckled to yourself and said to Herc, “Sorry, Dawn’s got the flu, been hard to hold down. We don’t catch it but it has made Norma miserable.”

Herc chuckled and said, “Not a problem, and if you like we could give you some ground herbs to aid in their recovery from our people easy to mix in with tea or coffee to build up their immune systems. We often give it to our mortal allies through our lifetimes here. To lessen what suffering we can.”

Victor asked, “Will it make them get better quickly?”

Elliot, “Oh yes, by tomorrow at the earliest, two days depending on how early in the progression we have caught it.”

Ambrose sighed, “Well that will be used often as my boys keep passing their colds and flu’s around.”

Herc smirked and said, “I can offer monthly supplies of herbal vitamins for them if that will improve their odds of staving off this pesky cold your planet has invented.”

“Are you telling me the common cold is native to our planet?” you asked with a smirk.

Elliot, “Oh yes, and quite debilitating to a fair bit of races. While the mortals have built up a way to trudge through it, quite impressive. Most planets eradicate bacteria all together while the intestines and stomach are just a few of the locations of the human body that create habitats for strains that help to keep their bodies healthy to stave off worse strains from the world around us. Ingenious, bit mad, but ingenious.”

James, “And Jaqi won’t get sick at all?”

Herc shook his head, “There are few substances strong enough to debilitate her healing abilities and all of those are for purposes of our race.”

Victor, “What purpose could that be?”

Herc, “Labor, for one. Not in the sense she wouldn’t heal but to grant pain relief. Though it is a heavy sedative, the other two are more hallucinogenic to lower consciousness of pain to keep you awake but, mellow.”

“Like laughing gas?”

Herc, “Yes, but stronger. Most likely for labor we will give you the latter for the birth and the former for recovery to allow you rest.”

“How’d you manage to discover those medicines? Even morphine couldn’t last longer than a few seconds in my bloodstream in the war.”

Herc paused a moment then said, “Well, you gave them to us, taught us to grow them and how to harvest and mix them with the first of us. You will remember. Time has written about your studies of medicine for our race.” You nodded then he said after accepting his tea, “For now, any discomfort?”

“Not particularly, though I did get a rather rude kick to my bladder last night and nearly made a puddle on the way to the toilet.”

Ambrose chuckled knowing the bladder wars well along with Herc who set down his cup and moved to take hold of one of your feet to begin the exam there. “I wish I could aid in that, however, toes to head so you can snack and calm your girls a bit.”

A little bit beyond the basic feels of your belly and back a few feels around your ribs came before the final neck to jaw checks that had his grin spread in saying, “Perfect health. How are your skin allergies holding up?”

“Still get a few red patches from perfumes from some of the ladies at school. But lotion at home tends to fix that.”

Herc, “Honey based?”

You nodded, “Dawn’s family makes it.”

Herc, “Very good, honey is very soothing for our expecting mothers. Even some in your tea or some honey based lozenges could help while you are at school if it grows too bothersome.”

“Not to bad, just mainly in my Lit class, there’s a whole group that seem to just exhale lavender. Close to when I go home.”

Elliot, “I could possibly persuade a few young ladies to avoid the scent.”

You smirked his way, “We don’t need to go to that extreme. Can’t blank out the whole plant from the planet.”

Elliot chuckled to Eddie’s saying from his spot with Teddy now on his lap to share the snacks, “Oh I bet they could if they tried.”

Herc, “Quite a common ailment for all our brothers on this planet. Though a few centuries of exposure has built up a minor tolerance to the plant. Yet, honey has aided in our tolerance. When our brothers arrive a great many colonies of bees will be bred to aid in the exposure ailments of those who have little tolerance from no prior experience on this planet.”

Victor said, “Jimmy used to get the worst of spring every time it came around until we managed to coax him to eat honey on his rolls. Local pollen from the hives nearby helps.”

Herc grinned and said in the production of his stethoscope for the lung and heart check before the girdle scanner, “If you change your mind let us know.”

“Hard to imagine,” you said to his switch from a listen of one lung to the next, “Tear planes out of the sky but a tiny flower can take me out.”

Herc chuckled to Eddie’s saying, “Everyone has a weakness. All the best heroes do.”

You nodded and asked, “Do you think I’d be more likely for a natural birth?” His eyes snapped to yours and Eddie’s lips parted to James’ hand smoothing across your back showing you’d had this worrisome conversation before. “By my progress so far, do you think?”

Herc gave you a kind grin and answered, “Caesareans as the mortals call them are quite common amongst our people. I could give you an answer now and most likely be proven wrong for how the labor develops. Though I assure you were we have to handle the labor apart from the natural breathe and push method you are in the safest hands, especially should Eric and Sarah be present. I will warn you either way you will require a break of rest. Which you are greatly due for.”

Ambrose asked, “From it being triplets?”

Herc nodded, “Mainly yes, however there is a drastic recovery for our birthing mothers.”

“How drastic?” James asked.

Elliot said, “Where mortal mothers gradually lose the birth weight within an hour roughly Jaqi should be back to her former size. The shock can be rather upsetting to mothers especially in their first birth. My wife barely spoke at all to me for three days afterwards.”

Herc said, “The response varies, however merely prepare to be at rest for a time afterwards, that mentality of an upcoming rest can be calming for some mothers, especially with multiples. And much like when you have lost a limb before while there is rapid regrowth should we operate we will ensure your daughters are all within sight while the change occurs. We have learned that lesson of distance being discouraged for a steadying moment after birth by a few very upset mothers.”

Victor, “The drugs, made them think they imagined the pregnancy?”

Herc nodded, “Something like that.” Earning a round of calming nods to the problems your birth might entail. “However, I am certain with all of us around the trio can be cared for along with Mother while she recovers her strength.”

Ambrose asked, “Did you want us to come out or do you think you would want the quiet away from the kids?”

“I don’t really know how I will handle the long drive back again to Canada, I’d hate to put you through that ordeal with your owl girl you have a system worked out and I know you like your space after. You shouldn’t have to fawn over me, I’ve got the guys for that.”

Making them smirk your way and her nod and say, “You do have a point. At the very least we can visit with Father Thomas for a joint christening for our girls.” She looked to Herc asking, “Is there a better way to get her to Canada if she can’t handle the long drive?”

Herc nodded, “Absolutely. We can use our mist gateways to travel through which is quite safe for expecting mothers. Quick and painless we can cut the travel time, middle of the night you get to a bridge and we can drop you on the long tree lined road just outside of your town up there.”

Victor, “Be a good change, especially since we haven’t picked a car yet for when the girls are here, truck won’t be big enough for all of you soon.”

Ambrose smirked saying, “Oh don’t you worry on the car, our family is picking something top of the line like we did for when Teddy was born.” You sighed and she smiled at you with a pat of her hand on yours widening the mens’ smiles around you, “You need something safer than a truck for your girls to travel in, just finishing up the paint job last I heard.” You sighed and she said, “Cars are a given from us.”

Belly scans to supper and the first dose of medicine was given to the ailing mothers who would indeed feel better the following day and both sit excitedly with you through the first bout of crawling that Marigold took with some goading from her big brother fully recorded on film by both you and Victor.

.

20 weeks along and in your third week of classes the first of your private study time in the library found you at a comfortable table in a corner near to the section of books you had scanned for any titles that you had yet to read. On the other side of the section you could clearly hear a group of pre-law students who were locked in a sort of prep debate that seemed to be a losing battle. The argument however had you turn your head and sigh softly in a scoot of your chair back to ease up to your feet and halfway across the room you stopped at the directory. With ease from the drawers you pulled out simple flicks of fingers brought out the first card that onto the pad of paper atop the wooden directory you used the pen there to copy the details of the book then put the card back to pull out another drawer and find a second card to copy that as well. Smoothly you strolled back to your section and then passed it to approach the table of bickering students who relented to irritated huffs and looked up at you with curiously raised brows.

Onto the table you set the sheet as they all had their hands full of notes and books they were drawing arguments from. “This will help. First one talks about the contract clauses you were referring to. The numbers underneath is the page then paragraph. And if whoever you are bickering against brings up Malone vs Tumnson that verdict was overturned 15 years ago with an undertone of profiteering by extortion. It’s noted in the second book.” On your feet you turned while the closest student lifted the sheet, “happy arguing,” you said and went back to your seat. Into which once you settled back again while they had looked over the now torn sheet two of them were off to fetch the books they returned with the books they each read over aloud then paused. A silence that had the hair on the back of your neck shift to the known feeling of the table looking in your direction.

All at once on their feet around the table they all walked around the shelves to your table where they saw you look up from the book in your hands. “How did you know about these?”

“I’ve read every law book in the New York City Public Library.”

Another asked, “Every book?”

You nodded, “I didn’t have many friends aside from the Brocks who adopted me.”

One of them nodded and after a moment of pursed lips asked for your opinion on what book could help him on his own prompt that led you to write him a note on a spare sheet of paper you handed him stirring up a round of questions to get more help from your wealth of knowledge. Then each darted off to get back to sleuthing for what else they would need.

Left to your notes again you read through and returned each of your chosen books ignoring the newspaper in your bag that bore headlines that Princess Elizabeth was pregnant and dared to stir up comments that you were jealous of that status. Two more trips to fetch book finished off your free period and then off you went to your next class once each book was returned to its proper home.

Notes copied in their next class for the missed lab were handed over by your lab partners to you in passing. Though it really didn’t matter as the next Chemistry class again in the library where on your way to the same table you spotted General Eisenhower alongside a larger group of pre-law students, each of whom you looked over wondering what they were up to aside from possibly asking for help with their study group references. “Hello General.”

With his grin he replied, “Hello Corporal. I overheard from a few of our Law Professors how you helped some of their students with their case arguments for the lead up debates to the mock court sessions beginning next week.”

“I did,” you replied.

The General said in a notice of the approaching Law Professors who head the mock court sessions, “Well then we have an offer for you to fill up your private studies schedule. Normally amongst our pool of pre-law students we divide them into groups for four cases, Defense and Prosecution and for our best student we grant the position of Judge with the remainder chosen as the jury pool. Although it would seem this year like the last we are in need of a neutral party as the former class was unable to avoid being swayed to side with their friends no matter how convincing the arguments of the opposing party. Would you be willing to assist us? You would be fully credited for the role.”

“I suppose, how often are the cases?” You said in a combination of curiosity and a loss for how to refuse.

His grin eased out wider, “Same dates as your free classes. We will keep the schedules to that time parameter and the cases will not last a full month each, we will be ensuring neither side stalls for time. To ensure the defense is granted a speedy trial as per their rights. Two cases the first month and two more the next. They will be fully followed by the journalism students and Columbia’s Paper. Since you are not versed in courtroom etiquette I will be sitting next to you as a sort of voice of experience if you do get stumped on anything as I am somewhat versed as a Judge and have seen a fair share of Court Martial cases in my time.” A book on etiquette was handed to you and he continued, “The week before your first two cases you will be given your supply of evidence and the file pertaining to the cases. All of which has been drafted by the visiting Lawyers who will be observing the court proceedings to aid our students in their paths onwards in their studies for their degrees.”

“Okay. Happy to help.”

“I hoped you’d say that.” One of the Law Professors stated.

.

“Hey handsome,” you giggled in James’ place at the bench halfway to the stairs from the car who wrapped you in a warm excited hug.

“Hello my Darling,” he locked eyes with Elliot in his own grin for your meeting, “Meetings and teacher politics not getting to you yet?” He asked in the blind acceptance of your armful of books, one book heavier that had him glance down at the book on courtroom etiquette then back up to the Professor again when he spoke.

“Not too terrible yet. Though there are whispers that prep for the Easter topics are to begin to be ready in time, as if they won’t just do the same as they’ve always done.” His smirk spread to James’ excited smile your way, “You seem to be holding in some news.”

James chuckled at your curious smirk up at him and replied, “Jaqi got a set of trunks from Spain, and a thick letter as well.”

“I don’t know anyone in Spain, do any of our people live in Spain?” You asked Elliot who shook his head.

“No. There is one just past Uraguay, but last I heard from his letters he said he was off to the Brazilian rainforests on an expedition of some traces of one of your lifetimes.”

You nodded and asked, “Well are you free and up for an adventure?”

That widened his smile and James’, “Thank you I would adore a chance to explore with you. And I speak and read various forms of Spanish if you require translations.”

“There’s more than one? Like French French and French Canadian?”

“Oh yes, not to mention Creole, which in Louisiana is a variation of French as well to an extent.”

Before you could ask in your turn James said, “We can’t go to Louisiana, me and Vic are still wanted there.” Your brow inched up and he flashed you a grin, “We um, blew up some buildings in the Civil War to track down a relative of a friend serving with us. I know they’re dead, but, some places still have our wanted posters on display.”

“I don’t,” you said in a shake of your head and he cut you off.

“Four of them were banks, you remember that guy who you asked if he was following us down in Texas?” You nodded, “He tried to corner me and Vic on your school tour trip. We hit a lot of banks, he wanted to ask where the money went. Had to make a few calls to make him leave.”

“If you just blew them up why would he think you had,” your lips parted to his smile that flinched wider a moment anxiously, and you asked softer, “You robbed banks too?”

“Hit a rough patch, after Xander.” He inhaled sharply then said, “But we didn’t keep it, drank it away, bought out some slave auctions to smuggle up North, but don’t worry, don’t have a cent of it now so it can’t hurt us.”

You pointed at him a moment then shook your head and curled the finger back and turned to the car, “Just when I was getting used to you’re being hired as a grave robber.”

He looked to Elliot and said, “We worked with Archeologists on digs.”

Elliot nodded mid chuckle, “Yes, I’ve seen you two in a few pictures, I’ve been collecting them. To go in our records.” James stepped back and opened the car door for you and Elliot said, “I’ll get my car and be right behind you.”

James nodded and looked to you in your ease down into the car he closed and hurried around to climb inside and fire up again with a timid grin. “Are you mad?”

You glanced at him and shook your head with a grin, “Just, bit of an odd day to hear you robbed banks.”

He shifted on the seat to ask, “Odd how?”

“Well the General found me in the library,” that had him nod, “And he asked if I would sit as Judge for the law students’ mock trials. Apparently there’s four trials and the top students are attorneys, the rest are witnesses, defendants and jurors. There will be a retired cop group for the bailiff and guards and actual attorneys sitting to judge the whole thing.”

“Why you? I love you, but why you? Clearly you aren’t in their classes.”

“Well I helped some guys the other day with their arguments and they told their Professors I’ve read all the law books in the Public Library and the General heard and he’s seen some Court Martials so he’s acting as my sort of buffer if I need help with something and gave me a book to read on how to act and procedure and all that.”

He nodded and said, “Well I’m sure you’ll be fantastic. Are you excited?”

“Um, I don’t know. They’ve scheduled the court sessions on my new study breaks and even the journalism students will be there to write all about it.” He nodded and turned to get you home at the mild shiver you fought back to get you home to the warm house to open your mystery trunks. “Apparently past few years they couldn’t get the top student to not side towards his friends or against those he doesn’t like so they wanted a neutral party I think they asked the General first and I was a convenient person to hand it over to.”

“Well if you change your mind just let them know.”

You nodded and asked, “Did you ever knock over any stage coaches or rob any trains or any other big heists I should know about?”

“Best you don’t know,” he hummed in a grin your way to your playfully challenging smirk, “Plausible deniability.”

.

“Ok,” you said in a content sigh settled into your mother’s chair, “I’m sitting down.” You said accepting he letter that Victor handed to you after having insisted that you sit first after the long day at school while his other hand lifted your legs for the footrest James brought over for you. “Hmm,” you said eyeing the front of the letter that was styled familiarly to how King George’s letters usually came.

Turning it over you eyed the wax seal there that had Elliot say, “That’s the seal of the Monarch of Spain.”

Once broken and lifted the flap was peers under and gently you pulled the folded pages out that you unfolded to read the top page after a clearing of your throat to the excited crowd of family around you.

“Baroness Jaqiearae Pear Howlett, we have not been formerly introduced. And I do hope you will not take this as forward of me however there is a new discovery of mine that I have wished to share with you since the first time I had seen your image in the photographs of the first meeting of you and His Highness King George VI. For a great many years I lived in Italy to focus upon my education prior to my having succeeded the Crown of Spain, and whilst there there is one figure that ages back to the very beginnings of my country.

The Queen of the Hare, for many nations all through Central and Southern America this figure exists and often in several places recorded at one time. Proof enough for some to have labeled her as a myth others used the name of to amass great fortunes and power amongst those they live in the same territories. All of them named Jaqiearae and described exactly the same as my Ambassador had described you upon his meeting you at the wedding of Princess Elizabeth of England with an affection for rabbits in one form or another.

The greatest in power, unlike the others, of which being the tales from my homeland of Spain. Said to have once been able to in a lift of her hand force an entire fleet of soldiers to strip them of their armor and weapons and in a cloud likened to a colorful starry sky fog they were off the shores and back on their ships that began to sail away from the shore. Eventually our King of old wished to have that devotion from those who in his ear whispered of plots to possibly overthrow him and put her in his place ordered her to be executed only to find her home empty upon arrival save for a symbol etched into the door.

Similar actions to those from central and Southern America from my studies and continuing even on further several kingdoms throughout Europe have similar tales with the same symbol and unreadable runes. All of which end in the same mysterious flight from all rumored to be directed towards Ireland, from where your family hails, to join the Pagans and to our people’s belief to spurn the advances of the British to claim their lands as long as possible.

Concerning the trunks, I have included a detailed list of how the documents inside are arranged. Including several letters in communications between various Kings and Queens with various Popes and religious figures to aid in overthrowing the assumed Witch ensnaring their people’s minds. While for others had been deemed a benevolent Goddess healing those brought to her with mystical powers unrivaled and unexplainable to even be able to bring those back from the very brink of death itself. All of which are amongst copies of documents both translated and not along with photographs of sketches and portraits of the varied women using the name. This is all I have acquired in my years of study into this myth that have been aided by copies from other countries to aid in possibly filling in some family history for you since I have been informed you were orphaned young and might have lost a great chunk of that lineage to have been shared with you as you grew.

My people were very disheartened to have heard of the stories being published concerning your health and know that you have been in our prayers wishing that those stories are false and you will be granted a great many children whenever God deems you and the Baron ready to welcome them. As always you will have a fond place within our hearts as the hopeful descendant of our cherished Queen of the Hare and know that when ready we will welcome you with open arms in a tour of Spain including the castle which your ancestor built herself.”

A moment you paused to giggle then say, “And it goes without saying none here will hold you responsible for any of the supposed crimes committed by the magnanimous Queen no matter how uncanny the resemblance or similarly brilliant mind capable of the same miraculous ability to protect those they cherish.” Making the others chuckle before you said, “Signed, Juan Carlos the first, Monarch of Spain.”

James teased, “So we’re not the only criminals of the family.”

That made you smirk back and then roll your eyes to Eddie’s saying, “Anything but a life of crime would never suit us misfits.”

“Just goes to prove I am not the voice of reason some people assume in our bunch.”

Victor chuckled and asked, “Which case first?”

You glanced over the second page and said, “The one from, Japan is in the hat box shaped one.”

Victor hummed amusedly, “You were in Japan? Wonder when.” He lifted the box and peered inside saying, “All in Japanese. We can translate those later for you.”

“Um, Czechoslovakia, Sweden and Norway are in the briefcase one underneath that. Egypt, Italy, Greece, and Ireland are in the smaller chest, with the copies of what he’s gathered from England’s records as well. Just leaving the large trunk for South America.”

Elliot nodded and said, “Well I can get started on the large trunk, browse through what he has gathered.”

You nodded and said, “I guess I’ll check out the briefcase one, since it’s the smallest collection.” James and Victor brought it over and from the top down you began to read the top page of the first paper folder bound with twine on the stack of more bound stacks that filled the box and named the order the history was complied.

Elliot however drew your gaze by his saying, “These are Royal Record copies. Not available to the non-noble born historians. No telling what’s in these.” More amused by the secrecy of it all while you smirked and unwound the folder that while he began to use his own golden pen and a legal pad from a stack of spares to translate the first document while you turned through the stack of papers you would need to translate later from translation guides the guys would pick up for you off the list they were making and stopped to each photograph of various photographs and diagrams and sketches throughout. By the fifth folder you had to take a break and move to have the dinner that had finished cooking where you said, “It could take us years to go through all this.”

Elliot said, “I could call the twins to stay with me.”

Dawn asked, “The twins?”

Elliot glanced between you and said, “Oh, yes, they live out in Maine, mostly hermits but they have a good deal of money to live off of from several sound investments over the years. While we work they could translate the documents.”

“Wouldn’t that be bordering on abuse of power? To have them translate everything for us?”

That had him chuckle and say, “The pair of them together aided in the formation of the Oxford Dictionaries and translation guides to several languages both dead and still kicking. They compile all of our discoveries into the directory vaults we have. Trust me, they are starving for information like this and much like the scans for your children the information will be compiled in holograms as well within our system for easy travel between locations and events. Even be able to show you pinpoints on maps for events to show where you were focused and then perhaps when they are done we might know why you chose now to come back and be solid again. We’ve already deduced James and Victor had to be in Canada before that big meteor shower that one of your former selves hinted at within our runes back on Asgard.”

Norma said, “That Hubble guy, he discovered the universe in 1925. We learned about it in school.”

Elliot drew in a breath, “Yes, how could I forget that.”

Eddie, “So, this planet finds out that it’s one universe of many and you decide now’s the time. It fits. Us being aliens and all.”

Dawn asked, “Is it that big of a deal to know why now?”

Elliot shook his head, “Not particularly to us, though others will question it eventually. Now we can say Jaqi chose the year this planet essentially realized they were not alone and came to help them grow.”

Victor, “Much better than the alternative that you came to fight in the war.”

You asked, “Could that be why that Ares guy came to start the First World War?”

Elliot nodded, “It is plausible. Discovery of other planets and technology of their own means helped to dismantle their power scope over the mortals. While the country is at war mainly brute strength is focused on, not intellectual growth.”

Norma said, “Either way I can’t wait to hear what you have been up to on this planet. Be a nice change to not hear another endless cycle of history written about the men of this planet.”

That had you giggle and say, “Well if I’ve had numerous Popes contacted to have me exorcised no telling what hell I gave those Kings and their soldiers.”

Pt 55

All –

@sherala007​, @mariannetora​​, @jesgisborne​, @knitastically​, @catthefearless​​, @theincaprincess​, ggbbhehe4455, @lilith15000​​, @alishlieb​

X Marvel-Cast - @himoverflowers​, @theincaprincess, @changlingkhat​

Brother Dearest - @thorinanddwalinsdwarrowdam​​, @swoopswishsward​

[miss-noo-na]

Strange Love (Part 2)

Featuring: Johnny (NCT) x Reader

Rating: Mature. Future updates to include BDSM themes

Summary: On your first trip out of town, you learn more than you bargained for about your co-worker’s personal life.

The weeks had gone by as usual, not much had changed leading up to your first assignment, save for the occasional meeting with the boss. That, and ever since he had told you to call him Johnny the name was now cemented into your head despite your efforts to remain impersonal.

Your first job was some dinky small town in Nebraska, and your boss had warned you most of these locations would be as such. They didn’t have the resources to acquire their own people, which is where you came in.

“It’s not gonna be luxurious, but you’re gonna leave feeling like you really accomplished something.” He assured you with a smile. Easy for him to say, from his swanky office in the big city.

As logistics would have it, you flew out separately and planned to meet at the hotel. When you got there, you took an Uber to the location and thought at first it might be a mistake. This was most definitely a Motel, the kind with outside hallways you saw on the side of the road.

“Are you sure this is it?” You asked the driver, looking over the address again.

“This is what you gave me.” He shrugged.

You had at least expected a Holiday Inn, or somewhere it didn't look like people checked in only never to be seen again.  You sucked it up and went to the front desk, where at the very least nothing looked broken down or dirty. Just….dated.

You were on the ground floor, right around the corner from the vending machines, as the clerk had told you with a smile. You opened the door with your keycard and you were greeted by two beds in the middle of the room, separated by a nightstand with a single lamp. They faced an old TV and the door to the bathroom.

There was a table by the window that you could do your work from and you dropped your bag in the chair in the corner. You did a quick sweep of the room, looking for anything out of place, and checked the mattress for bed bugs to be safe. It wasn’t the Ritz, but it would serve its purpose.

You sat on the end of one of the beds, idling through your phone, waiting for a text from your new business partner. It came a few moments later when he informed you he was checking in.

10 minutes later the door handle jiggled and your head shot up in its direction, your heart jumping into your throat thinking someone was trying to break in. Instead, the door swung up and Johnny stood there. He paused before entering and you stared at each other like two deers caught in headlights.

“What are you doing here.”

“This is the room he told me to come to.”

“That’s impossible, this is my room.”

Johnny stepped it and the heavy door shut behind him. He dropped his bags at his feet and extended the hand still holding his key card. You snatched it out of his hand and looked at the number written on the sleeve in marker.

“This can’t be right.”

“I’ll call the boss.”

A few minutes later Johnny was pacing the space in front of the beds, trying to get through on the managers personal line, and you nervously chewed your nails while still in your spot at the end of the bed.

“Shit.” He cursed under his breath, hanging up after another failed attempt.

“I don’t want to sound ungrateful,” You started, looking up at him. “But even without the same room debacle, this place is less than ideal.”

“Yeah, as much money as they’re pulling in you would think they could splurge on a Super 8.” He half-joked, then noticed his phone was buzzing. He waved it at you before answering.

“Hey, Steven, yeah-” He stopped, cut off by the other man. You realized he called him by his first name and had to suppress an eye-roll.

“”Oh uh, it’s….fine. Listen, it looks like we’re in the same room and I’m wondering if there was some kind of mi- oh. Oh I see. No, no, it’s fine I totally get it.”

Your stomach sank at his tone.

“We can totally work with that, no problem. Have a good week, bye-bye.”

He hung up and sighed before turning toward you.

“So it's not a mix-up.”

“What?” You responded, feeling rage building.

“Apparently they didn’t have the budget for this project they thought they did. They’re still working on it, and this is all they could swing on short notice.”

You buried your face in your hand for a second, collecting your thoughts. “They didn’t think to mention this to us?”

“Yeah, not great planning on their part.”

The only consolation to this situation is that there were two beds. However, having to sleep, live, and work in this room with a man for the next week made you uneasy. You didn’t know him that well.

Johnny was studying your face in that moment, and then he looked around as if he was searching for something. He went and grabbed his bags and moved them next to the bed you sat at.

“You can have the bed by the wall, I’ll sleep by the door if that makes you feel better.” He nodded. You blinked up at him and realized what he was saying, then nodded and grabbed your things, moving them to the other bed. You did feel more secure over here, and felt a little endeared to him in that moment.

“Thanks.”

“No problem. We can set up our stuff here.” He gestured to the table that had a chair on each side. He started to take out his things and organize them on one side. You were thankful he was taking this in stride and meeting you halfway on it, which you had to admit you didn’t entirely expect. He was more mature than you gave him credit for.

You followed suit with getting your laptop out and set up across from him, though there wasn’t much distance between the two of you. You both sat down to get some pre-emptive notes done before you met with the team tomorrow. You worked into the evening, barely registering the sun setting until he closed his laptop and stretched.

“Do you want to get dinner?”

You glanced toward the window. “I guess we should.”

He had picked up the rental car at the airport, and you took it to the nearest restaurant, a dingy little diner down the street. The lighting was yellow and the booths were cramped but it gave off a homely feel you kind of enjoyed.

“Are you still bothered about the room?” He asked suddenly. You had already ordered and had sat in silence since you came in.

“Not really, why?”

He half-smiled, almost to himself as he shifted in his seat. “You’ve been tense since I got here.”

You blinked for a moment, “And how do you know that?”

“Your shoulders are pulled up and you keep fidgeting. I’m good at reading people’s body language, and I can just tell you haven’t taken a full breath all day. It’s not good for you, you know.”

He cast his eyes aside and took a drink after he spoke, and what he said just made your muscles seize up more. You suppressed the urge to get snappy.

“I’m naturally high-strung.” You said honestly, even if he didn’t need to know it.

“I can tell.” He chuckled. “There’s nothing to be nervous about, we’re gonna have a great day tomorrow.” He said in a strangely reassuring tone.

Your food came then and you fell back into silence, your mind wandering over thoughts about why he was reading your body language so acutely.

The greasy comfort food was just what you needed after the day you’d had and you split the bill with the company cards you were given. Back in the car, he told you he had to run to the nearest printing store to pick up the packets you were handing out tomorrow.

“You wanna go over my notes for me while I’m out? Let me know if I missed anything.” He asked, and you agreed before he let you off back at the motel and took off.

Back in the room, you took a seat at his laptop and were met with his desktop, the notes closed out. You sighed and grumbled to yourself as you opened up the files and tried to find the notes. His folders were a mess, all named with random codes and abbreviations probably only he could decipher. You clicked through countless nonsense files and folders filled with other types of work jargon that had nothing to do with the current project.

You clicked into one folder near the bottom that was filled with photos, and went to click away when something caught your eye.

You couldn’t quite tell from the thumbnails what was going on, but it looked interesting. They were high quality, almost like a professional photoshoot, and there was only ever one or two subjects in each photo. Before you could think the better of it, you double-clicked one purely out of curiosity, and when the image came into full view you drew in a sharp, surprised breath.

It was a room, dark save for windows in the background that looked out to a blurry night skyline. The focus was on a woman on her knees, mostly nude, her arms secured behind her back with ropes that stretched across her chest, stomach, and thighs. She was leaning forward, and her chin was held delicately in the hands of a man sitting in front of her. He had one arm resting on his knee, dressed in slacks and a button down shirt and tie, the other cradling the woman’s face as he looked into her eyes. You could see distinctive red marks across her skin, from her butt and across her thighs.

The man was your co-worker. The one coming back into this room any second now.

Your cheeks burned red hot as you reached up and slammed the laptop shut without thinking. You shot up from your seat and grabbed your bag, marching out of the hotel room to the vending machines, trying to get your breathing back to normal.

You stared at the list of drinks as your thoughts raced. You could conceptualize what was going on in the photos, you weren’t stupid, but putting it together with the man you just had dinner with was making you feel flush and nervous.

You dug into your bag for some spare change and got yourself a can of soda, cracking it open right there and chugging it, letting the bubbles burn down your throat and quell your nerves. You took a deep breath before you went back to the room.

When you opened the door, Johnny was leaning over the chair, looking at his opened laptop, and the photo was still open.

“Oh God, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I was-”

He looked up at you, babbling away as you fidgeted with your bag and almost squeezed the can in your hand in half.

“I see you didn’t find the notes.” He said humorously, as he stood up. You had expected him to be upset, angry, or embarrassed. Instead, he had his same relaxed stance as always, and a slight smirk on his face.

“If you were curious, you could have just asked me.”

Your eyes went wide and you shook your head hard. “I was just looking for the notes, I swear.”

He laughed as he took a couple steps to close the gap between you, and gently laid his hands on your biceps for a moment. He had never stood this close before, his shadow almost dwarfed you.

“Relax, it’s okay.”

“Sorry...again, I wasn’t snooping.” You tried to assure him with a shaky breath.

He could feel you tremble under his hands and he smiled. “It’s not a big deal, yeah?”

You nodded, and he dropped his arms and went back to the table. He closed out the folder and tabbed up the notes. “Here they are.”

You blinked, a rush of emotions dissipating from your body. You felt mortified, worried, and intrigued all at the same time. His reaction, his gentle voice, and his touch further complicated those feelings.

You went to sit down and look over the notes. At first you could barely concentrate on the words, but after a few seconds of letting your heart-rate get back to normal, you began to focus on the task and found it helped get your mind off what had just happened. However, you had almost forgotten that Johnny was standing behind you, watching you go over them.

Suddenly you felt his presence at your back, as he leaned over your shoulder and pointed at the screen. You almost jumped out of your skin.

“Do you think this needs more detail?” He asked, and his voice was way too close to your left ear. You shivered but tried to play it off.

“Uhm,” You swallowed the lump in your throat. “More details wouldn’t hurt.”

“Great, I’ll do that now.” He said as he stood back up, and you moved out of his chair so he could sit down.

“I’ll finish these up and print us some copies in the morning.” He threw you a pleasant smile before he started typing away.

You both finished up for the night and he offered you the bathroom first. In the shower you had time to process the day and knocked your fist against your forehead, not only for letting yourself see what you had seen, but for letting it affect you like this. He was an adult with an adult life outside of work, it really shouldn’t have bothered you like this.

But bother wasn’t the right word and you knew that, and you got angry with yourself for what it really did. You were curious, and more importantly, you were turned on.

You grinded your teeth together in an attempt to will the thoughts out of your mind, chalking it up to a lack of physical affection lately. Besides, since when had any of that interested you? You didn’t experiment much, there was never any attempts at tying up or inflicting pain with past partners. The most you had done involved toys and maybe a blindfold, but nothing to the extent with which you saw in the photos. So why did your mind keep going back to those stark, red welts on her bare skin? What was the appeal?

You finished up in the bathroom and went straight to your bed, avoiding eye contact and turning toward the wall. Luckily you were exhausted and fell asleep without much fuss, even if that moment still lingered in your mind.

The next day most of the anxiety had worn off and you were able to conduct yourself normally, especially since you were preoccupied with other things. You brought your materials to the office, an old building probably built in the 70’s with fluorescent lighting and small rooms. The staff were friendly and happy to have you, and you found that you and Johnny worked well together. For two people who had no reason to get along, you bounced off one another as you gave your presentation and were able to avoid stepping on each other's toes. Then you went to work, each of you tackling a set of departments and getting them started on their new updates.

It wasn’t always smooth sailing, you were on your feet for the whole day and with any sort of transition there were bugs in the system or things that didn’t go as planned. You dealt with it as it came, but could feel the tension building up in your neck and shoulders, the stress collecting in your body and making your muscles tight and your head a bit fuzzy. This added with the nerves of doing something new made you both drained and wired by the time the two of you left the office.

You agreed after your first day that you deserved a drink, both to celebrate the success of getting through it and starting off strong, and as a way to ease the stress of the day. You found a small restaurant with a bar and had dinner, followed by said beverages. It may not be the healthiest coping mechanism, but the white wine you were sipping was doing the trick.

“Look at us, getting along.” Johnny half smiled at you, and you let out a small laugh.

“We work surprisingly well together.” You nodded.

“Are you kidding? We were the dream team in there. I wouldn’t be surprised if it took us less than a week to get them set up.”

“Lets not get ahead of ourselves.” You laughed again, and fell back into a comfortable silence.

Alcohol was always tricky with you, dredging up the things you wanted to keep hidden. Your mind flashed to that photo again and you wanted to squash it down, but the curiosity was killing you. You were off the clock now, and he had proven he was a pretty chill guy. Would it hurt to ask?

“Can I ask you a personal question?” You said as you felt the wine warm you up inside and make the words flow with less effort from your mouth.

“Hmm?”

“You don’t have to answer if it’s too nosey.”

“Try me.”

“You know the uh...thing, that I saw?” You looked at anything but him as you took another sip.

“I do.” He said slowly, and you caught his face from the corner of your eye. He might have been smirking again.

“I don’t even know how to ask this.” Your eyes darted around some more and you fidgeted in place. “Just, what was that all about?”

He laughed, a deep sound from his chest that made your ears tingle.

“It’s just something I enjoy doing in my personal time.” He shrugged casually.

“What, the photoshoot?”

“That was just a way of documenting it.”

“Documenting what?”

“The thing I like to do.” Now he really was smirking and he seemed to be enjoying stringing you along.

“Which is?”

“Dominating my sexual partners.”

You swallowed hard and nodded. “Got it, that’s what I thought.”

“Then why’d you ask?” He responded. It wasn’t confrontational, more curious.

“I mean I get the whole domination thing, I’m not that naïve.” You prefaced. “It was more so,” You cleared your throat, “ the pain aspect I don’t completely understand.”

“Ah, so I take it you’ve never been spanked before?”

You couldn’t believe you were having this conversation in a dinky small town bar with a man you practically despised a week ago, and the fact he was being so nonchalant about it.

“I mean, I wouldn’t say I haven’t,”

“Let me guess, a couple love taps from a dude during the act and that’s it?”

“Pretty much.”

He looked as though he expected that, and sat up straight before he spoke again. “I’ll put it to you like this, you know all that tension you carry in your body? And all those erratic, loud thoughts in your head that keep you from sleeping well at night?”

You knew all those things very well, and nodded along.

“Some people, when they submit to another person and let them inflict pain, find that all those things cease to exist in that moment. Your body releases a lot of chemicals in response to pain, and they happen to feel really, really good.”

You listened intently, his entire posture and manner of speaking had changed once you got to this subject, his usual chill, kind of goofy office guy persona slipping away into someone more serious, but relaxed and knowledgeable.

“So instead of that,” He nodded toward your glass of wine, “you achieve a similar effect with a few lashings.”

You thought about it for a moment before you spoke. “I thought it was just something people got off on.”

“It can be, but it’s a complex experience. Sometimes there’s no sex involved at all.”

“You’ve had situations where someone came over, you beat them with a belt, and then they just go home?” You blurted out in response.

He laughed again, louder this time, but nodded. “Yeah, sometimes.”

You didn’t know why, maybe it was the alcohol, but suddenly this all seemed way too intriguing. For years you had tried to find ways to deal with your stress. You had tried yoga, tea, getting a facial once a week, but nothing seemed to work. Sometimes you even thought drugs might do the trick, but watching your friend on molly at a concert that one time has put you off the idea.

“The pain just makes everything fade into the background, I’ve even been told it’s euphoric.”  He added, only enticing you further.

“Makes sense.” You murmured, bringing your glass back to your lips to finish it off. You felt like you were in a daze, and when he suddenly leaned in it took you by surprise.

“Are you curious to try it?”

He said it gently, quietly, so only you could hear. Immediately your cheeks burned and you leaned back.

“No! I mean, I don’t know.” You stated truthfully. Whether you did or not, the accusation that you might was horribly embarrassing to confront.

“Well if you do ever want to try it, just be careful.” His face drew down into concern. “There’s a lot of people out there that don’t know what they’re doing.”

“You’d say you’re experienced?”

“I’d like to think so.”

He seemed to pause, running his finger along the rim of his glass, hesitating before he spoke up.

“It wouldn’t be wise of me to offer up my experience, since we’re co-workers n’all.”

You gulped, wishing you had more to drink because suddenly your throat was dry.

“But if you have any more questions, you know where to find me.” He grinned, and it felt like an invitation.

[dakotacrisis]

It’s a Fluke

I got like two other one shots that I’m gonna get posted later. Tis the season and all that jazz.

Felix and Marinette get partnered for a project and neither are too thrilled about it...at first.

---

Felix and Marinette had never gotten on. Felix couldn’t get past her excessive cheer and energy and Marinette was sick of his cold shoulder and grumpy attitude. It was how it was between them and everyone knew it. Felix had joined the ranks of the exclusive group of people Marinette couldn’t stand and Marinette became another casualty of trying to befriend Felix and utterly failing.

That was until the day they got paired for a project. The partners had been paired by the teacher and were not up for debate. Whether they liked it or not they were gonna have to work together.

Things started off cordial enough. Straight to the point, no nonsense, everything was about their work. They chose what they were going to work on and figured out times they could get together to review the progress they made. It was going to be fine.

“Dupain-Cheng,” Felix approached her at her locker, “Did you finish the research for your part last night?”

“Yes.” She pulled out her notes on the subject. “You?”

“All done.” he flashed his own notes. “Meet at the library during free period to review?”

“Sounds like a plan.” And with that they parted and went to class.

Free period rolled around and they settled into the library to continue working.

Marinette sat across from her looking over her notes and making edits and constructing a good flow for the information when she felt like someone was watching her. She looked up and Felix’s sharp grey eyes were trained on her like he was studying her.

“Yes?” She asked when he didn’t say anything.

He blinked a couple times before sneering a bit. “Do you know you hum while you work? It’s quite distracting.”

“Sorry?” Marinette huffed as she went back to her work. She thought about humming again just to spite him but decided not to. She would be mature about this.

“It’s a fluke?” Felix said.

“What was that?”

“The song you were humming. It was It’s a Fluke, was it not?”

“It was.” Marinette nodded. “How did you know? I didn’t think that was your type of music.”

“You’d be surprised what all I listen to.”

“Hopefully not XY’s stuff.” Marinette grimaced.

“Goodness no, I have an eclectic palette of music and that man’s dribble meets nowhere near my tastes.” Felix scowled. “Doesn’t help that his latest song has been on every radio station on repeat for at least a week now. It is starting to drive me up a wall.”

“I know! It comes on at the bakery all the time and my parents are one repeat away from just disconnecting the sound system to the store altogether. I’ve never actively listened to it but if it started playing I would be able to sing along and I hate it.”

A brief smirk creased his otherwise blank face before dropping once again. “Yes, but enough about music. We should be getting back to work.”

“Right, of course.” Marinette shook her head and raced to find the place she left off.

The next day was more of the same with them working in relative silence. Marinette made a small comment about a song she liked that she thought Felix may be interested in. He didn’t say much but nodded consideringly which gave Marinette hope he would actually listen to it later.

When school let out Marinette frowned at the torrential downpour. Her house was right across the street but she would be soaked through by the time she got to cover. If only she hadn’t forgotten her umbrella again.

“Dupain-Cheng,” Felix met her at the entrance, “I was hoping to catch you before you left for the day.”

“What is it?”

“I won’t be able to work during free period tomorrow but I would like to finish up what we have so that we can do any final edits before our presentation Friday.” He said, “Would you mind if we worked after school? Considering your schedule is open of course.”

“Oh yeah, shouldn’t be a problem. Where were you thinking?”

“My house, six PM sharp. Does that work for you?”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Then I will see you then.” He pulled out his umbrella and started descending towards the car waiting for him.

Marinette looked out towards her house and sighed. Might as well get it over with now. She stepped out into the rain trying to shield her head from the downpour as much as she could with her bookbag.

She was halfway to the street crossing when the rain let up around her. She looked up and Felix was walking next to her with his umbrella stretched over her. “What are--” she started to ask.

“I’m not so heartless as to let you trudge your way home in this rain.” He cut across her. His eyes trained forward. “Be quick though, my ride is waiting.”

“Thanks.” Marinette turned to him once she was at the bakery door. “That was kind of you.”

“Do me a favor and don’t forget your umbrella next time. It does no one any good when you’re forgetful.”

Marinette’s small smile curdled into a scowl. “Right. Sorry for inconveniencing you.” Marinette stepped into the bakery and slammed the door behind her. At least she tried. There was an automatic stopper on the door that slowed its close so it couldn’t be slammed.

Felix stood on the other side with an entertained smile as Marinette glared at the slowly closing door. Uppity little weasel!

She turned sharp on her heel and stomped upstairs. Every time she thinks he’s being nice he does a one eighty and she’s right back to annoyed.

A night of rest and a subsequent pleasant morning didn’t do much to improve her attitude towards Felix the following day. Which was bad seeing as how she had agreed to go over to his house that evening. Whatever. At least this project was almost done then she wouldn’t have to interact with him again.

She got to his house and was buzzed in. He greeted her at the door and Marinette was taken aback by the casual boy in front of her. Worn out pair of jeans and sweatshirt. Even his usually perfectly styled hair was mussed.

“Is there a reason you’re gawking at me?” Felix asked when she hadn’t said anything.

“Sorry. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so...casual before.” She was going to say laid back but even in his pajamas she didn’t think she’d be able to say that about Felix. No matter what he was always ramrod straight and professional. No amount of sweats or messy hair could cover that.

Felix gave an amused scoff before gesturing her inside. “We can work in my room. Is that alright with you?”

“Sure.” She followed him up to his room.

Now this felt more like Felix. Simple decor, tall bookshelves, everything was organized and tidy and there was a distinct pine smell as if someone just finished dusting. Felix sat down at his desk and Marinette stood off to the side shuffling through her own work.

“You can sit if it makes you more comfortable.” Felix said after a couple minutes.

Marinette looked around but didn’t see another chair that she could use. “Where?”

“Oh right…” Felix looked up and scanned the room. “You can sit on the bed so long as you take off your shoes first.”

“Okay…” Marinette pulled off her shoes before nestling at the corner of his bed. She spread out her work around her as she tried to compose it all into a cohesive whole.

This is weird. This is so weird.

“What do you want done with this bit? I’m not sure where to put it.” Marinette asked.

“What bit?” Felix collected the paper. “Oh this, huh,” He pushed some papers out of his way to make room and sat down next to her. “We could put it--no that wouldn’t work. We could always--no that doesn’t fit either.”

“Honestly, I’m not even sure if we need it. It seems really irrelevant in the grand scheme of things.” She reached across him for a paper. “We could just jump to this next part and skip that bit. What do you think?”

Felix was staring at her again but it wasn’t out of annoyance. He was studying her again.

“Felix?” Marinette inquired quietly. “What are you…”

She glanced down and noticed she was far closer to him than she had been a moment ago. “Sorry. I should have just asked you to pass the paper instead of leaning across you like that.” She tried to withdraw but at the last second he touched her shoulder.

His eyes were still trained on her face flicking across her features like he was searching for something. Then he gently pushed her away. He stood up and stiffly walked back to his desk. “That sounds like a fine plan. You can throw that last bit out.”

Marinette was still trying to figure out what happened a moment ago. Felix was making a definitive point of avoiding looking at her.

They finished their work and Marinette started packing up to leave.

“Dupain-Cheng,” Felix walked her down to the door, “I listened to that song you recommended.”

“Oh. What did you think?”

“It was good.”

She waited for him to elaborate but that seemed to be as much as he was willing to share.

“Okay. Good. Glad you liked it.” She opened the front door. It was raining again. “Crap.”

Felix gave a small sigh. “Forget your umbrella again?”

“The forecast said it was gonna be clear tonight. Would you mind if I borrowed yours? I’ll give it back first thing tomorrow.”

“If you can’t remember your own umbrella what is there to convince me you’ll remember to bring me mine?”

“Fine then. Geez. I’ll just use my bag.” Marinette took one step outside before she pulled right back in. “Felix!”

“Calm down.” He pulled his umbrella out of the rack by the door. “Let’s go.”

“You won’t let me borrow your umbrella but you will walk me home?”

“Do you want to be dry or not?”

“Are you going to make a snarky remark like you did yesterday if I do?”

“If I apologized would you come along already?”

“Don’t. My house is just down the block. I’ll be fine.”

“It’s also late. And I would feel better knowing you got back to your house safely.”

“Nothing is going to happen in the five minutes it’d take me to run to my house.”

“Marinette,” the use of her first name caught her off guard. He held the umbrella towards her. “I am sincerely asking you to let me escort you home for peace of mind.”

She stepped out next to him. “Okay. Thank you.”

They started the walk home in silence before Felix spoke up again.

“I am sorry if whatever I may have said offended you before. Sincerity seems to spark a defensive reaction in me for reasons unknown.”

“That seems rather silly, doesn’t it?”

“Yes.” he chuckled dryly, “I suppose it does.”

Marinette could see the lights of her house in the distance. For whatever reason Felix slowed down in his stride forcing Marinette to slow as well to keep under the umbrella.

“Dupain-Cheng, I was wondering something.” Felis asked, “What is your thoughts on vinyl records?”

“Vinyl? My mother really likes them but she never let me touch them when I was younger. Why?”

“There is a little vinyl shop I know that has some albums I think you would like if you were interested.”

“Are you serious?”

“I would like to see what other recommendations you have for me. My usual tracks have grown stale to listen to and could do with some newer sound.” He looked away from her. “I understand if you would rather pass. I fear I am not the best company even in the sincerest of circumstances.”

“I wouldn’t go that far. You’re grumpy and have a tone issue but you’re not outwardly malicious like other people I know. I have to say I am surprised though. I had the distinct impression you didn’t care for me very much.”

“True you are far bubblier than I would like and it is hard to take in all at once. But I would much rather be partnered with you then say Kim or Nino.”

“Such praise.” Marinette rolled her eyes. They were finally back at her house. “When were you planning on going to this shop?”

“Tomorrow after class?”

“It’s a date.” She nodded. “I mean not a date. Like a date date. But a get together as friends kinda date. You know what. Let’s call it an outing. Not a date. That sounds good to me.” She fumbled for the door handle to her house. “I’ll uh see you tomorrow?”

Felix was smiling at her in much the same way he did when he walked her home yesterday. “See you tomorrow, Dupain-Cheng.”

[quicksiilver]

In My Fathers Eyes

Full Summary and Part One: Here

Part Two: Life Changes

Word Count: 4k.

Chapter Summary: Rachel receives news from two unsuspected men.  She’s then taken to meet some people kids her age dream of meeting, but instead of excitement Rachel feels uneasy.

Walking into the bar I decided to sit at one of our tables that was hidden in a small nook in the corner of the building.  It had its own tv on the wall beside it and had a perfect view of the bar.  This table was usually reserved for friends or ourselves for visits like these.

The moment I stepped in the door I found the men sitting at the bar in the same spots as last night.  Tony Stark was talking on the phone and Captain America was drinking a beer with his eyes on the tv above his head.  When the door shut behind me Tony glanced toward me and it seemed as if he rushed himself to get off the telephone.  Getting a good look at the two of them now in the daylight it was clear it was really them and my heart skipped a few beats.

“Rach!” Shaun called out following me to the table.  Smiling, I slipped into the booth against the wall facing the bar.

“This is insane,” I whispered, holding back a huge grin looking between Shaun and the guys at the bar. His eyes went wide and he nodded quickly.

“Totally crazy, dude,” He whispered back in a sarcastic panic, “I don’t even know how to talk to them.”

“Well, are they talking about anything important?” I asked curiously and pulled my knees up so my feet were on the seat.

“I can’t hear a word they’re saying,” He sighed, glancing at them over his shoulder.  They were both speaking closely to one another again, “I have your food!” He suddenly remembered, did a small jump, and hurried back into the kitchen.  My eyes followed him as I smiled, and they then found Tony Stark looking toward me again.  He didn’t even turn away when we made eye contact.  His eyes squinted a bit, and his eyebrows pushed together as he said something to Captain America who looked over to me for a split second and then back to Tony.

They spoke to each other.  More like they bickered with one another, a small fight that Tony won, so Captain America started his way over toward me.  I instantly planted my feet on the floor and sat up straight.  I pulled my arms off the table and glued them to my lap hiding all of the paint I was too lazy to actually really clean off.

“Hi,” He said to me in a sweet voice once he was beside me, “Mind if I sit?” He asked, gesturing toward the booth across from me.  Feeling frozen in my place I just looked at him and shook my head.  He gave me a small smile and sat himself down.

“Steve.  Steve Rogers,” He said reaching out a hand for me to shake.  I sheepishly gave him a hand smeared with blue to shake.  He looked toward it carefully, his eyes quizzing my every move.

“Captain America,” I said quietly with a small nod and he sighed.

“In the flesh,” He chuckled, “And you are?” His eyebrows were raised.

“Rachel,” I said.

“Nice to meet you, Rachel,” Steve said.  His voice was so calming.  Deep and rich yet so incredibly soothing.

“You too, Steve,” I returned back to him with a smile, finally.  Taking a quick deep breath I tried to shake the starstruck nerves away.

“I’ll take a guess and say that you work here as well?” He asked me, gesturing his hands around the room.

“I do,” I answered him, doing my best to speak up and seem interesting.  Meeting new people and keeping them engaged in conversation wasn’t my strongest suit.

“Pretty nice,” He nodded, “Have you been working here a long time?��

“Well, I’m nineteen.  I started here when I was sixteen, so you could say it’s been a long time,” I laughed making him smile.

“That’s great,” He said, “Then I’ll take it, you're from around here?” I nodded again.

“Literally like a block away,” I said.  Out of the corner of my eye I saw Tony Stark leave his seat and come toward us, and then past him I found Shaun in the door of the kitchen watching me with his jaw wide open.  I bit onto my lip to keep from cheesing to big, but gave him enough of a smile to let him know I had no idea what was actually going on right now.

“Steve, are you boring the poor girl?” Tony said from beside me.

“No, we’re having a normal conversation-“

“What we’re here to do isn’t normal, and we don’t have time to talk about life,” Tony stated and sat down beside me.  I scooted myself over to give him some room.

“Sorry, kid,” He said to me, “We don’t mean to bombard you like this.”

“It’s... okay?” I said quietly and unsure.  My eyes flickered from both of them, them both looking at me with concerned eyes.  We were quiet for another moment before I cracked a laugh, “Oh no,” I groaned, “Did Shaun let it slip I’m a literal orphan?” I laughed again, feeling used to situations like these.  People from families, or teachers in school always went above and beyond to send their condolences or charity when they found out what I went through as a child, so this didn’t seem to be much different.

“What? No,” Tony sneered and Steve watched him with uneasy eyes.

“Oh,” I sat back with wide eyes and then laughed again, “I misread this situation then.”  Steve smiled at me again.

“How old are you?” Tony asked me.

“She’s nineteen,” Steve said and Tony snapped his head toward him and shot him a look before turning back to me.

“Nineteen,” I laughed under my breath.

“Mom passed when you were seventeen,” Tony said, taking me by surprise.

“How did you-“ I began but he cut me off.

“What if we told you that you weren’t a literal orphan?” He asked swiftly, almost mocking my words. My jaw fell open.

“Tony,” Steve said angrily, but Tony held up a finger.  His attention never seemed to leave me.  I stared back at him, in complete shock, feeling as though my body had gone cold.  After a moment Tony nodded his head and raised an eyebrow.

“Kid?” He asked me.

“Yes?” I whispered, still frozen in place.

“We need you,” He said quietly, “We all do.” He looked to Steve who was watching me.

“I know this is crazy,” Steve began.

“Uh, yeah?” I suddenly shouted pushing myself further away from them.

“Rachel,” Steve tried again.

“No,” I held up a hand, my face turning angry, “I haven’t lived my last three years in hell like this just to have you two big shots come tell me my mom is alive?!  Do you think I’m mental!” Shaun was behind the bar now, chin resting on his hands, watching us looking worried.  Steve seemed as if he wanted to reach out to me and comfort me.  Tony on the other hand was just waiting for me to finish.

“It’s not your mom, kid,” He said with a shake of his head, “We know your dad.”  My heart skipped a beat and I felt my hands turn clammy.  Taking in a deep breath, I sucked in another one right after and then another.

“Tony she’s going to have a panic attack,” Steve spoke quickly standing up from the table reaching over Tony for me.  The room around me started to spin and my arms and legs started to get tingly.  My breathing was staggered and shallow, and then I could no longer hear either of their voices.  It was after that that the room turned black.

“Had you ever thought of helping her move?” Steve’s voice appeared in my ear.  I heard shuffling of feet and the opening and closing of a door.

“No, she’s pretty adamant about independence,” Shaun’s voice came next, “She’s never complained about it, but she ALWAYS keeps it freezing in here. Our friends and I just let her vibe.” I groaned and started to open my eyes.  I know Shaun did not just say the word vibe to Captain America.

“Tony, she’s awake,” Steve said and he knelt down by my side.  Sitting myself up I looked around and found we were in my apartment.  I was laying on my couch with Shaun sitting by my feet.  Steve was in front of me now holding my arm checking my pulse, and glancing over my shoulder I caught Tony by my kitchen table staring at my projects.

“Steve, did you see this?” He asked as his eyes danced all over my three hour long painting.

“Busy here,” Steve rolled his eyes.  He sat my arm down and looked me in the eyes, his eyes studying me, “You feeling okay?” He asked with a small smile.  Still feeling a little lightheaded, I hesitated but nodded.

“So, let me get this straight,” Tony began coming around the front of the couch, “You never knew your father,” I shook my head, “Your pal here filled us in on some info.” I glanced at Shaun who gave me a guilty smile.

“Sorry,” He whispered and I shrugged.

“We’ve learned it was just you and mom here, and dad was never a part of a picture,” Tony said and I answered him again with the nod of my head, “That’s crazy because you look just like...” His voice continued to trail off.  He began pacing, rubbing a hand over his beard.

“Tony we shouldn’t tell her all of this right here,” Steve stood up and placed a hand on one of Tony’s shoulders.  They both looked at Shaun who gave them a sweet, innocent smile.

“I trust him,” I said confidently.

“That’s great, we don’t,” Tony said flatly and held a hand out to me.  I hesitated again, but took a hold of it and he helped me off of the couch.

“Are you okay to come with us?” Steve placed his other hand on my shoulder.

“Where?” I asked looking at it.

“Headquarters,” Tony spoke as if I had asked a ridiculous question, “You can ride shotgun in the Audi.” He wiggled his eyebrows sarcastically, pulled his keys out of his pocket and clicked a button.  From all the way downstairs I heard the roar of an engine.  I looked to Shaun who was still smiling.

“Don’t worry about me,” He said holding up his hands, “I’ll take care of your place.”

“I won’t be that long,” I laughed.

“We don’t know that,” Tony said under his breath and then I was guided out of the room by Steve with his hand on my shoulder.

Tony drove us straight out of the city and into the suburbs of New York.  He answered a few calls from someone named Friday, and between them he questioned me.

“Have you ever felt different?” He asked numerous times, many different ways. Each time I answered with a shake of my head.  My attention stayed on the road for a majority of the ride with my mind racing with my own questions and just plain confusion.

“It seems like you treat your friends nicely,” Tony said after clearing his throat.  No one had spoken in twenty minutes.  Not taking my eyes off the road, I nodded.

“You know, you could look at me,” He said a little louder, “I get we’ve maybe, possibly, traumatized you today.  However, this is no way to have a conversation.”  Lowering my eyebrows, I slowly turned my head and glared at him.  He met my eyes and his went wide with a double take.  Steve laughed from behind us.

“Talk about trauma,” He said leaning forward toward Tony, “That look is familiar, huh?” I turned to look toward Steve who smiled reassuringly to me.  In one single look he let me know I could ignore Tony, and that everything was going to be alright.

We pulled up to a gate before a long driveway where Tony stuck his hand out the window to scan it on a monitor.  After it registered it was him, the woman through the speaker welcomed him and the gate opened with a clang of the metal.  Tony stepped on the gas pedal harder than he did when we were on the main road and we sped up toward the building that had the iconic ‘A’ on it.  It looked like it was three stories high on the outside, but I’m sure on the inside there was more to it.  The walls seemed as if they were made of glass, and there were numerous, of what I would think, landing pads around for planes to come down on.  Buildings full of military looking things, and machinery surrounded us.  The entire thing was enormous and I couldn’t help but drop my jaw as I got out of the car.

Nerves suddenly struck me again.  I took a deep breath and glanced behind me to find Steve coming to stand beside me.

“Don’t worry, not everyone is here,” He sighed crossing his arms, “Just us and a few others who are going to help you get comfortable.” I quizzed him with my eyes.

“Help me get comfortable?” I asked and he looked away from me quickly.

“You’re going to have a lot of questions,” He began.

“I already do,” I said bitterly, and he looked back at me with understanding eyes.

“I know,” He said and then put a hand to my shoulder again, “But one of us is going to be able to get you truthful answers.  And he’s here.” Tony came around the car and watched me.  He was nodding his head.

“You ready, kid?” He said smoothly.  This was just another day at the office for him, but for me it was my entire world about to be rocked.  I’m a nineteen year old college freshman amateur artist, and these men, the Avengers no less, come to me and tell me they need my help.  They tell me they know who my father is when I’ve gone my entire life thinking I never really had one.  I’ve gone my entire life never needing one.  I’ve told myself, and I believe that there was a good reason, my mother never spoke about my father and that it was for my own well being.  I was so content with her and living the way we did I never needed to ask about him.  Even now while living on my own it’s never crossed my mind to go looking for him, or asking questions about him.  I wouldn’t even know where to start.  

The thought of walking into this building with the Avengers and meeting my father had me terrified that my life was going to change for the worse.  I don’t need a father taking care of me.  I don’t need a father to come into my life after not being here for nineteen years.  I didn’t want to move, I didn’t want to leave New York City, and I certainly didn’t want anyone else lending me money.  Looking over to Tony I took a deep breath and nodded.

“Yes,” I said to him in a tone that dug at his need for me to respond to him.  Steve smirked.  Tony sighed and started for the door, Steve holding it open for me and following me inside.  

My calculations were correct because the inside of this building seemed ten times bigger than the outside.  Staircases seemed to lead into the sky, and the tall ceilings made this place seem even taller.  Every floor plan was open, and the floors themselves could be eaten off of, they were so clean and shiny.  There were a few men and women dressed in business clothes bustling around, going up and down the stairs, but avoiding the elevator I spotted in the back.

“Steve, who else do we have upstairs waiting for us?” Tony asked quietly as we walked through the first floor and stepped into the elevator.  It was clear he was trying to keep his words between the two of them.  Steve leaned closer to Tony and gave him an answer, him knowing how to be discreet.  Tony pressed a floor number and kept his gaze forward toward the door, glancing to me once with an enlightened look upon his face.

“Someone’s ready to meet you,” He said and I felt my stomach squeeze.  Folding my arms I took a deep breath.

“It’s him, right?” I asked flatly.  They both turned to me, Steve looking confused.

“My dad,” I said, shaking my head.

“Oh,” Steve said and tried to speak, but Tony cut him off.

“No, he’s not here right now,” Was all he said right before the elevator doors opened.  Tony walked out quickly, and Steve motioned for me to leave next.

“Is she with you?” A dangerously deep, thick accented voice came from around the corner in front of me.  Turning into the room I was greeted by two new men I hadn’t met before.  A tall, extremely jacked blonde with long hair and a man similar to Tony.

They were all standing around what I would describe as a bar or a lounge that was a few steps down from me.  It didn’t seem very super hero-y to me in here.  Steve came by and smiled to me as he joined the other men.  I came down the steps slowly as Steve said hello to them.

“Hey,” Tony said to the blonde, tapping his chest and gesturing his chin to me.  The muscular man who was wearing a smile on his face let it fall once our eyes met.  He took two steps away from the other guys not breaking his attention.  I took a deep breath in and let it out slowly before I raised a hand to give him a small wave.

“Hello,” I said quietly and watched his expression give a hint of sadness.  His eyes began to look me up and down as he came closer to me.  I took one step back and he paused holding up his hands.

“I’m sorry,” He said in a hushed voice, “I’ve just been very eager to meet you since we found you.” His voice was comforting.  We shared another moment here looking at one another and that’s when I remembered who this was.

“You’re Thor,” I smiled and he gave me a small laugh, “I knew I knew who you were.” His smile faded a bit.

“And you’re... Rachel,” He said, taking another small step toward me, “You’re very beautiful, Rachel.” He nodded his head, almost like he was bowing.

“Thank you,” I said and nodded back feeling as if I had to do it.  Thor smiled again.

“Are you teasing me?” He squinted his eyes and my body shot straight up.

“No,” I answered quickly, “I would never.” Instant regret.  In the moment it felt right.

“I’m only kidding,” He laughed, “But, trust me, you’ll tease me eventually.  It’s in your nature.” He winked at me and then turned to stand back with the guys who had found their way over to the bar.  I followed reluctantly, waiting for them to speak to me.  

Gazing around the room at all of the artifacts that were hanging on the walls I unzipped my black hoodie and let it hang open, the temperature so much different inside this building then outside.  I grabbed the sides of it and lifted it a bit trying to cool down.

“Everything okay?” Thor asked me as I got closer to them.  I nodded and paused.

“Just a little warm in here,” I said, and my words made them all look at each other like they knew something I didn’t.

“What?” I asked, and was ignored.

“Are you sure he didn’t clone himself?” The second Tony said, making Thor and Tony crack a laugh.

“You would think he did,” Tony rolled his eyes.

“Yes, because this is just unbelievable,” The second Tony said looking at me.

“Excuse me,” I said, my tone going flat again.

“Guys, can we please give her some answers,” Steve snapped holding a hand toward me.  The two of us shared a mutually annoyed look.

“We can.  That’s why Thor is here,” Tony said tapping the blonde’s chest again.  Steve, Tony and the second Tony broke into a small argument in hushed voices and with words I couldn’t even understand.  I watched them in disbelief, tossing around when and how I would get what I came here for.  My future depended on all of this, this was going to change me forever and here they sit like children.

“Excuse me!” I repeated raising my voice and they stopped mid sentence to look at me.  I heard my echo go throughout the room, I didn’t even realize how loud I spoke.  Tony and the second Tony were in shock.  Thor had a smile playing at his lips and Steve looked at me empathetically.  I felt bad seeing Steve, I certainly didn’t mean to yell at him.  He’s been here trying to help me through this.

“Yes?” Thor asked.  They remained silent.  I sighed, clenching my fists.  I saw Tony’s eyes glance at them for a split second and it made me wonder what he was expecting.  In the car when he was asking me if I had ever felt different, or experienced anything out of the ordinary growing up, it didn’t occur to me that he was hinting and trying to ask me if I was one of them.  I released my fists and watched relief wash over him.

“This is a big deal,” I said, my voice going soft, “I may be just another project to you, or whatever you brought me here for... but if you guys really know who my dad is, and you’re going to have me meet him... that’s life changing.  The thought of that is exhausting and overwhelming.  So, if you need me to meet him I’m going to need to do it when I’m ready.”  I felt my confidence skyrocket once I finished speaking.  Steve smiled and gave a gentle nod of his head.

“Yeah,” Tony began and I had thought he would take my words into consideration, but as I’ve begun to know Tony Stark he doesn't do that for people, “For your own good you’re going to have to work with us.” My heart sank to my knees.  Steve looked down toward his feet before looking up to Tony.

“This is Bruce Banner,” Tony pointed to the second Tony beside him, “He’s a genius.  You’ll be working with him for some time.”

“Some time... what do you mean? How long am I going to be here?” I asked, running my hands through my hair feeling frustrated.

“Hm,” Tony frowned, “Not sure, kid.  I’d say as long as it takes to save our two planets.” He glanced to Thor and back to me.  My eyes grew wide.

“What?” I whispered.  Thor stood up and came closer to me than before.  He towered over me.

“We really need you to help us, Rachel,” He spoke quietly, “We... I... believe you’re the one who can help put an end to some madness.”

“M-me?” My voice remained at a whisper, “What do you expect me to do?  I’m not... you guys.  I can’t... do things.” Thor placed his hands on my shoulders and smiled.

“I know you can,” He said, “It will come with practice.  It’s inside of you, I know you have the mind to learn it.”

“How?” My eyebrows furrowed.

“Because you have half of his mind and he had to learn it, too.”  His words had me floored.  I watched him curiously, his mannerisms and his energy entirely too familiar and comforting.

“Do you know him?” I asked already knowing the answer.  Thor paused, his smile growing.

“I do.  I know him more than any of them do.”

“Can I talk to you about this?” I asked him.  He broke his gaze to look at Tony who nodded and shooed us away with a flick of his hand.  I peeked around Thor to find Steve who encouraged me to go.

“Let’s go outside, you’ll feel more comfortable there,” Thor said and allowed me to start for the elevator first.

[writinginthedarkwood]

Alien Shoto! Capturing your heart <3

Alien Shoto Todoroki x Reader!

This is a continuation of Alien Izuku x Reader AU! You can read that here here -> https://writinginthedarkwood.tumblr.com/post/188136408454/kinktober-alien-izuku-x-fem

This was requested by a follower of mine! They gave me an idea they liked and I ran with it. I’ll write for you toooo just ask <3

Warning: contains kidnapping. Also some freaky alien sex ~

It was all over the news. It started with the disappearance of one girl. She was a freshman in college, a quieter girl. Her mother said she had anxiety and insomnia, and frequented walking in the middle of night when she couldn’t sleep. “She wouldn’t just take off, something happened to her!” She cried on camera when she was interviewed. The police chalked it up to a random incident until about a month later. Every day girls between the ages of 13 and 25 disappeared in rural America. It was slow at first, farm towns in the middle of nowhere that didn’t usually have much trouble were panicking. The police were stumped. Thirty days after the first kidnapping, that girls face with a crown on it was burnt into a soybean field near her college. At first, the police thought it was a tribute to her by other students. The farmer who owned the field was frantic. He said a bright light burnt the picture into his field, killing his crops. The police brushed him off, but people were shaken up all over the country. On the 31st day after that first girls disappearance an entire girls school in Japan was abducted, seemingly out of thin air. Girls 13 to 18, all 300 of them were gone in one night. Their beds were still made like they were in their, nothing was disturbed. One girls teddy bear was gone with her, but mostly all of their things were left untouched. The Russian government reported the disappearance of teen girls went up by 36% in all of their major cities. The strange thing was, it didn’t matter their race, how much money they had or even where they were during the time of abduction. The only thing that connected the girls? None of them were married. The world news exploded, conspiracy theorists claimed it was the end of the world. People rioted in the streets, some families were hiding their daughters in bunkers. Some randomly married their daughters off to try and prevent them from getting taken.

My mom pulled me out of college. I traveled back home, my family lives in New York City. Mom boarded up the windows to our apartment while I watched the T.V. I picked at my nails, people were gearing up for war against the Government. NYC hasn’t been affected by the disappearances. People went missing at a normal crime rate for the most part, which has people thinking the the abductions had to do with some type of project, and the New York elite prevented the government from effecting the city. “This is just a precaution darling, nothing will happen to us here. “ She said as she hammered the wood onto the frames of the window. The news was running a piece on the newest conspiracy.

“This man here say’s that he watched his daughter and her two best friends disappear out of thin air.” The man said with a shaky voice. He was at a dairy farm in Wisconsin. The farmer grabbed the mic out of the reporters hand, his face stained with tears. “They were with me, and then they were gone! A bright light flashed and they were gone.” He stuttered as the reporter tried to take the mic back. He positioned himself in the center of the camera and raised his voice. “It was aliens! I saw the light! The government is ignoring the only answer to this crisis!” He started screaming and the camera cut back to the main station.

A loud crash came from outside the window. Mom and I turned to each other puzzled. “Was that a car crash?” I asked her. She shook her head, her face pale. “It was probably nothing.” She said. People started screaming in the street below us. “Stay right there. Don’t move I’m waking up your brother.” She said, her voice barely above a whisper. She rushed to the back of the apartment and banged on my brothers door. I ran to my room and looked out my window, people were running in a mob away from something. They abandoned their cars, screaming for help.

A mother pushing a baby in a stroller was panicking, a wheel of her child's stroller fell off of the curb and jammed into a sewer grate. She was trying to pull her infant out of his stroller, but people were shoving her. She froze and started crying. I threw my desk drawer open and grabbed my craft scissors. She’s just under my fire escape, I can pull them up here and to the safety of our apartment!

I shoved my window open and almost fell trying to get down the slick metal stairs. The ladder that would lead me to the ground jammed, I stomped it with my foot until it fell to the sidewalk. People scurrying out of the way. I shoved myself against the flow of the mob and looked in the stroller. The baby was red face and sobbing, probably scared to death. I cut the infant free and the mom gathered him in her arms, trying to thank me over a new deafening sound. Was that, marching?

Before I could tell the mom to climb the ladder, she took off running. What’s happening, was there a bomb? Is the army here?

The swarm of people started shoving me away from my apartment building. The wave of frantic humans wouldn’t allow me to push against them. My shoulder was shoved, I’ll have bruises all over my body if I make it out of here.I started to slip to my feet, I can’t move! A strong hand reached out and grabbed me, pulling me out of the crowd and onto the hood of a parked car. He wrapped both hands around my waist, saving my life.

He was breath taking. His face unlike any young man you’ve ever seen. He had a black military cap on, his entire uniform was black except for silver metals pinned to his shoulders. A solider? What branch of the military has all black uniforms? He had long hair that swept over his forehead. One side was bright red, and the other, stark white. He had a deep tissue red scar on the left side of his face. His eyes two very different colors. He shouted over the crowd. “I saw you save that woman back there.” I nodded my head yes, feeling shocked. “Why did you do that?” He asked, it was hard to hear him over all of the commotion. I looked over his shoulder, smoke rose over the city line, something had crashed in the middle of times square, what is that? He asked again, closer to my ear. “Why did you do that?”

Why? I don’t know why. Something came over me and I had to help her. “She was in danger, her and her baby could have been trampled.” I said close to his face so he could hear me. His face was stoic and I swallowed, he was studying me. “We need to get you to safety.” Was all he said, he stood me up and looked around, surveying his options of where to go. He helped me keep my balance, the running mob knocking into the car was making my legs wobble. He held me by my elbows, close to him. This isn’t the time to be thinking about how strong and handsome my savior is, but I can’t help myself. The sound of marching grew louder, and I saw what everyone was running from.

An invading army, men of every shape, color and size plowed through the streets in formation. They were breaking into every building and pulling women out into the streets. I gasped in horror. “What’s happening?” I screamed and the young man pulled me tighter into his arms. “Don’t worry I’m going to get you out of this shit hole.” He had a high tech watch on, he was messing with it in a language I didn’t recognize. I squinted my eyes, the apartment complex across the street from mine was being raided by the men. They wore all white uniforms, similar to my rescuer. A man pulled a woman out of the building, he had huge muscles and purple tinted skin. Are those scales painted on him? The woman didn’t fight him, in fact she looked kind of happy to be with him. She gripped onto his shoulder and before I could even finish blinking.

They were gone.

Aliens, the crazy people on the news were right. The object down the street that had crashed was shining silver in the broad daylight, it was a ship. The man who pulled me out of the street turned my body to face him. He put a hand under my chin and made me look him in the eye. “Hold on tight.” I nodded my head yes, hypnotized by his icy gaze.

“Y/N!!!” I heard a scream. I snapped my head away from him and looked up at my window. My mom was waving frantically, my brother half way down the fire escape coming to get me.

Before I could say a word, tingles ran through my whole body for just a second. Like a light current of electricity rippled over my skin and then dissipated before I could blink.

We were in an all white room, a lot of people were. It was noisy, people were chattering. I looked around. Some men in white uniforms had animal body parts, some were different colors of the rainbow. Some had extra limbs, and some looked completely normal but with brightly colored hair. They all had normal looking women with them, some girls were softly crying, and some were happy and holding onto the man that was with them. They started disappearing through sliding white doors. I realized I was still holding onto the man that saved me. I let go and took a step away from him. “What the hell is happening!” He took a deep breath and adjusted his cap. “I feel so much better getting off of that nasty planet, how do you even breathe all of that smog?” He said, ignoring me. I took another step away, bumping into a girl who was asking the same thing. Her escorting man was holding her hands and kissing them. “So you really are an alien?” She had her jaw hanging open, her tone shrill with surprise. “Yes but we’re going to be so happy together! You’ll start to feel it soon.” He said with a wide toothed smile. Before she could protest, a smile crept across her face too. “You’re so... you’re so sweet.” She said to him and he laughed and picked her up in his arms. She was terrified a minute ago, but after he kissed her knuckles she blushed and was okay with this?

With every couple that left this big white room, another would appear. I shot daggers at the two toned haired boy. “What are you.” I hissed through gritted teeth. He looked at me with a bit of confusion, but then straightened out his face. “You’ve probably gathered that I’m an alien.” He looked around the room, seeming a bit stressed. “Can you just come with me? It’s loud in here.” He stuck out his hand and I rejected it. “Start talking, why did you bring me here!” I shouted, my entire body was shaking with fear. “I want to give you all the answers, please just come with me.” I wanted to trust him, he spoke earnestly. I reluctantly followed him, but refused to touch him. He took me through a busy hall of couples, lot’s of them giggling and kissing. I saw a much younger boy, without a uniform holding hands with a scared human girl, she had to be only 13. They were talking to an older alien man who was smiling. “Isn’t she sweet Kai? You two get to be friends forever. No hurry though, you two need to grow up some!” The older man said as he ruffled the alien boys hair.

He pressed a code into a screen on the wall, a door that blended in with the wall opened and he invited me to step inside. The door shut behind us, and I realized I was in a small apartment type place. Most of the interior seemed normal, a wooden table. A microwave, a bed in the corner with white sheets. The technology on the appliances was all types of touch screen, but other than that it all looked vaguely familiar to a bigger dorm maybe. He sat at the table and I stood by the door. “Won’t you come sit with me?” He asked politely. I shuffled towards the table, sitting across from him. I eyed him carefully, he studied my face with a slight smile. “My name is Shoto.” He had his hands clasped in front of him on the table. “And you’re Y/N, right?” He asked. I nodded my head yes. “Do you believe in fate, Y/N?” He asked while staring right into my eyes.

“I’m not sure.” I said barely getting my voice out of my throat. “Well, fate is the best way to describe how we met, but it’s actually a little more scientific than that.” He gave me a small smile. “My species is very similar to yours, but we have one fatal design flaw that no amount of science can fix.” He started explaining. “Eons ago, before your planet even held homo-sapiens. My species almost died out. We evolved to produce several offspring at one time of conception, but our a mutation in our genes prevents our female offspring from living to maturity.” He messed with his fingers like he was nervous. “Our population numbers dwindled, but our amazing specialists on the matter discovered a solution.” He upturned his palm and held it out on the table, silently asking me to take it. I ignored it. A pained look crossed his face, but he retracted anyway, “We have the ability to mate with species similar to ours, and this helps the spread of much healthier genes. We’re in a constant cycle of finding a new planet, returning home, and then sending the next generation out to find another planet. The system works only if the planet we find has a species that meshes with ours.” He paused for a moment to check and see if I was following. I nodded my head, urging him to go on. “It can be very dangerous if it doesn’t work. We spend our whole lives studying the species, and we send our leader to find his mate first to make sure it works.”

The girl! That girl who disappeared a month ago!

“This is where fate ties in.” He looked like he wanted to reach for my hand again but resisted the urge. “This is my first reproductive cycle, I didn’t have the greatest role models growing up, I learned everything I know from school. So bare with me as I explain this...” A small blush sprinkled over his cheeks for just a moment. “We feel strong ties to the universe, it links us to who our partner at the right time and the right place. None of this is random, it’s all very calculated. I was supposed to find you today. That’s why I lead my squadron through your city.” He fidgeted for a moment. “When we mate we mate for life, our bond will never be broken.”

“You want to...” My face blushed wildly. “You want to mate with me?” I choked out. He nodded his head. “Of course. You’re the perfect female for me, you’ll look beautiful carrying my offspring.”

I felt faint, my head spun and everything hit me at once. “What’s wrong you look-” He panicked and stood so fast his chair hit the floor. He grabbed a bag out of the cabinet and threw it on the table. “I’m fine I just feel like I might pass out.” I leaned my head onto my arm on the table and closed my eyes. This table is so cool, I could just take a nap here. I felt a sharp prick in my arm, but I felt too weak to sit up. “Don’t worry Y/N I read about this in class.” He said softly with a hint of something frantic in his voice. I felt a jolt of energy and sat straight up. “What did you just inject me with?!” I looked at my arm in horror, he’d placed a needle and was filling me with something. “Just some organism essentials. Do you feel better?” He asked, his face riddled with concern. “I feel a lot better actually.” A light spot of blood was left where he pricked me. He dropped the needle in horror and pulled me out of my chair and slammed me on the table. “Hey!” I called out in protest. “You’re bleeding!” He yelled, studying my arm. “Humans can die from lack of blood!” He dug through his medical bag, tossing things onto the floor. I giggled, I can’t help but laugh. “It’s just a speck. You can just wipe it away and it’ll clot on it’s own.” I rolled my eyes and he stopped searching through the bag. “Oh.” He said plainly. He grabbed my arm and licked over the spot of blood, I tried to recoil but he held my arm firmly in place. His spit was extra sticky, like warm honey. He dragged his tongue slowly up and down my arm. His spit sunk into my skin and I felt a rush of emotion. I reached out and grabbed him in my arms. He was stunned at first, but then wrapped his arms around me back. He hugged me for a moment before pressing my back against the table. He planted a firm kiss on my lips and swirled his tongue around inside my mouth, I felt an extreme heat boil in my lower belly. I put both hands firmly on his shoulders and shoved, gasping for air. "What are you doing?" I said losing my breath. He cocked an eyebrow at me. "Is my saliva not working? My hormones should be coursing through you, releasing large amounts of oxytocin in your brain.” He grabbed my chin and tilted my face back and forth, looking deep in my eyes. “Your vitals seem normal...” He trailed off, feeling my pulse on my wrists. “Your spit is supposed to do something to me?” His touch alone was driving me crazy. My heart pounded against my chest, my lungs are tight and I can barely breathe. “Yes it should be signalling to your body that I’m ready to mate. Your ovaries should be excreting hormones preparing your va-” My face blushed wildly and I interrupted him. “I know how sex works!” I blurted out. “Are you trying to  brain wash me with that stuff?” I felt my arm where he had licked. Though it felt like gel before, my skin was completely dry in that spot now. “Don’t be ridiculous, of course not.” He spoke so seriously. “My chemistry causes a reaction with your chemistry better than any other potential partner. My instincts guided me to you, your pheromones are very potent to me.” He nuzzled his face in my neck, pressing me close to him with his hand on my lower back. He planted a kiss on my collar bone, he gently used his tongue to glide over the sensitive part of my skin. I shivered, goosebumps covering my whole body. He trailed wet kisses up my neck to my ear. “I can take good care of you, forever...” He whispered, his voice was growing raspy with anticipation. “You don’t need to be stubborn.” He pulled away from me and put two fingers in his mouth. He sucked on them for a moment, covering them in saliva. The sticky substance trailed from his lips and followed him to the waist band of my leggings. He placed the tips of his fingers on my entrance and moved up and down. My body betrayed my mind, I gushed onto his digits. I bit my lip, holding back a moan. He smirked and plunged his fingers into me. “Shoto...” I whined.

You don’t know this man! He invaded your planet and kidnapped you!

My rational thoughts started to fade as he swirled his fingers around. I was expecting some type of pain, his hands look so strong and callused. “Tell me how you feel...” He purred. His eyes were glazed over with want, his cool exterior melting away the more he touched me. “I- I feel good.” I mewled back, my arms shook while trying to hold myself up on the table. “Say you want to be my mate.” He commanded while pressing hard on my g-spot with his fingers. He softened his tone a bit sounding sweet. “Please Y/N... I can’t bring myself to hurt you.” He looked pained. I could see his want press hard against his pants. I melted at his sweetness. “I want to be your mate-” I said breathlessly. He ripped off his uniform jacket and threw it to the ground, the medals on the pocket clinging together as it hit the floor. I pulled my shirt off at the same time. He stopped holding me for only a few seconds but we grasped back onto each other like we were both touch starved. His lips crashed against mine, I clawed at his shoulder blades and he pulled my leggings of with a rip of the fabric. “Spread your legs.” He growled and I obeyed. My legs wrapped around his hips as he pulled his pants down and quickly stuffed himself inside of me. I took a sharp breath in and my body felt just the slightest bit of relief, finally getting what it wanted. He pounded his hips into mine, grabbing onto my back and neck for support. I held onto him as tight as I could, feeling like I couldn’t get close enough. He thrust into me with hard slow strokes. I moaned his name over and over again, feeling my body tighten with pressure. “I- I’m going to cum-!” I couldn’t help but scream. Shoto grabbed my hair at the nape of my neck and groaned a short, almost growl like sound in my ear. “Dammit-” He said under his breath, his body gearing up for his climax. I burst onto him, my body gushing all over his staff. I screamed his name and he quickened his pace, hitting me harder and faster. I started to cry out for more when he stopped and pulled me into a soft kiss, his body pulsing. “Did you finish?” I asked just before his cock changed shape, still inside my canal. I squealed as his eyes rolled back into his head and he panted. I felt a small orb leave his body and pulse into mine. A shiver ran up my spine. “What the hell!” I tried to move away from him and he firmly grabbed my ass, sliding me back to the edge of the table and holding me there. “Don’t panic.” He said with a heaving chest. Another object pulsed into me, and then another. My body suddenly squirted again, an explosive orgasm rocking my entire being. I gripped the edge of the table, unable to even make any noise. He kissed my lips tenderly and pulled out. “Oh my god...” I covered my mouth in shock at his member. It was silver with deep purple veins. It leaked a few shiny gooey drops of liquid before the opening closed, looking vaguely similar to human genitalia, but with no slit.

He quickly covered himself by pulling his pants back up, looking lightly embarrassed. “As one of the King’s generals I should have more composure.” He looked down at me, happy with how much of a mess I look. “But you’re so lovely, I just couldn’t wait any longer.” He helped me off of the table and guided me to his bed. “Come here Y/N. Let’s rest awhile before we go again.” He said devilishly as he tackled you onto the soft comforter.

Part 3~ https://writinginthedarkwood.tumblr.com/post/188289769294/alien-bakugo-x-reader-the-warrior

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[anarchist-soupkitchen]

ooop its a really long essay

A brief list of why the Tories is pretty rubbish

 Before we start, I have a few things to say. As this is intended for UK audiences it might be a little difficult for people outside of the UK to understand the wording of certain topics, I will include somethings that need more explanation up here but if I do not include it here, please feel free to ask down in the comments.

Tory: someone who is a part of the conservative right

Anglicanism: the English church’s version of Christianity

This essay is a PERSUASIVE ESSAY this means its BIASED I hope you could tell from the title. This essay is from the view of someone who is white I am not trying to speak over people of colour on issue like race and I encourage you to look at non-white creators within the UK to get views on this matter.

I am pretty armature when it comes to my writing so do not expect something ground-breaking. And with that out of the way, let us begin.

1.       The tory party we know today was founded in 1834, you would think that would be plenty of time for its members to grow and shape the party into the best organization it can be. But with the tory party still stuck on the same ideas that Anglicanism is the only true religion, and that queer people should not have rights you would think that the party is straight out of the early 20th century, or still stuck on the same ideas the party was founded upon. It does not matter what side you are on and how your choice to view the tory party, people can agree on the prominent figures inside the tory party from old to recent. An example of a prominent tory of old was Winston Churchill a well know racist who also, coincidentally got us through WW2 when he was appointed by Chamberlin. He fostered such views that white people should govern over the “primitive” black and indigenous people of Africa and that Indian people “bred like rabbits”. To anyone who knows their UK history, 1983 was a very eventually year for politics and the UK as a whole. You now have to wear seatbelts in the front seats of cars, the dismembered victims of serial killer Dennis Nielsen are found in his London flat, unemployment was on a record heigh since the 1930’s and a general election found that Margaret Thacher was to be the next prime minister after a landslide win in the polls. Over the course of her 11-year reign of terror she periodised free-market capitalism and privatised public sectors including transport, railways and mines. Then because she did not like the Scottish government, she through a hissy fit and closed all mines in Scotland. Just like that she fucked up the economy, where in the big mining areas of the past are still experiencing the aftershocks today. I remember my granny telling me how she made up food packages for the miners around town and how it was so devastating to the town’s economy. Everyone was unemployed and starving, even my grandad. These examples really show that the Tories will support people who are the worst in British society if they have the parties’ interests at heart. You would think the tory party cannot get any worse but with modern polices such as pledging to get 50,000 nurses for the NHS while only giving them a 1% pay rise, which is only £7.78 for a low band nurse, by 2023. Or being “tough on crime” even though 96.4 crime were recorded by every 1000 people in 2019. You can see how tough they are about carrying out their polices. Let me tell you my favourite of the lot, Boris Johnston, our current PM, wants to limit immigration by 100,000 people. They want to only let in “the brightest and the best,” what a load of shite. Our immigrants are the backbone of our society doing everything people like the Tories would not even dream of doing. Imagen seeing Boris working in a McDonalds or in your local call centre. That fucker probably has not worked a day in his life. According to the migration observatory, migrants make up 50% of the low pay workforce. Either way you look at it, its abysmal. The government should do more for these people that letting them rot in a McDonalds or in a low paying job. If you have taken time to be a model citizen, train and get your qualifications, possibly learn a new langue to mover over to a shitty wet rock I do not see any problem with the government providing necessities to get you started in your new life. We have got the money.

2.       Can I ask you, what side do you think Boris Johnson is on? I will let you think for a moment. The Working class makes up more than half of our population according to the BBC’s class calculator. They say that a government is reflective of the people’s views and I think that is bullshit. Out of the working-class eligible to vote, who do vote, only three in ten vote conservatives. Do you want to know why people in the working class do not vote tory? Because under tory leadership since 2010, 6000,000 more children and their families were forced into poverty. The need for foodbanks skyrocketed 12.3% in the last five years and that is no even accounting for the pandemic. It is clear by now; I have given you enough time to think. “we know whose side Boris Johnson is on- the billionaires, the bankers and the big business.”- labour shadow chancellor, John McDonell. We know the conservatives are very busy committing acts of voter suppression and giving money to their friends instead of caring about you. They are buzzy introducing laws that make it mandatory to have voter ID in order to vote. If you do not make it free people will stop coming. The electoral commissions think 3.5 million voters just will not come back. this is all a part of, “takle[ing] every aspect of electoral fraud”- tory manifesto. It is well known that many rich people have been investing in the party for quite a while. Here is just a few: Anthony Bamford head of machinery in JCB, he gave £12.1 million since 2005. Charles Cayzer owns a shipping tycoon, he gave £480,00. Did you also know, Boris is known to be very generous when it comes to giving back. You’ve probably herd in the news about the conservatives handing out £3mil in contracts to tory owned covid PPE companies over the course of the pandemic. Some of that went to a MP, Nadim Zahawi who is a shareholder in SThree. SThree was given £1mil in contracts over the course of the pandemic. With all the evidence I have given above you’d think the government its rolling in it, I suspect they are but I doesn’t look like it from the outside. They have cut funding to courses drastically, as well as benefit schemes. Like cutting access for eighteen- to twenty-year-olds to the housing benefits. Yet with all the money they been cutting away from services and councils who desperately need it they still have enough money to cough up a commission for a royal yacht named after the duke of Edinburgh, costing over £200 million. Seems sweet does it, name a yacht after the ghoul of Edinburgh, right? You probably know the just of it now, your wrong. Not only is the yacht being paid for by taxpayers, but they are also naming it in honour after a racist. Or how the BBC would phrase his words as “memorable one-liners”. Here is a selection I find quite fitting: “The Philippines must be half empty if you’re all here running the NHS”- while meeting with a Filipino nurse. “If you stay here much longer, you’ll be all slitty-eyed”- he said to a group of British students while on a royal visit to China. My favourite must be “It looks like it was put in by an Indian.”- referring to and old-fashioned fuse box in Edinburgh. He is supposed to be the duke of the bloody place! I really like how one article what I read put it “[Prince Philip] screams out loud what other racists like him have learned how to conceal and camouflage in what they think and project as civilised demeanour.”- Hamid Dabashi.

3.       What I find absolutely astounding, is the Tories inability to show compassion to the people who have nothing. If you did not know the vagrancy act among other things crimeless the homeless and rough sleepers, which is by far a very bad mixture with the recent homelessness statistics, homelessness has risen 28% since labour was last in office and if the Tories continue down the path they are now, it is only going to keep rising. What you would find is most shocking is that there’s solutions for the homeless crisis right in front of us, what the Tories must to not be able to see. Layla Moran of the liberal democrats thinks they “must take a more compassionate and holistic approach, starting by scrapping the vagrancy act”. I think that would be a step forward and away from the old ways of prosecuting people for not being as fortunate as the rest of us, but there is something even more simple than that. Repossessing the 200,000 buildings that have been vacant in the UK for more than six months. Not only would that put a sizeable dent in the houses we need, but it also saves space. The UK is small collection of islands and I do not think the Tories can see that. We do not have the land available to just start building everywhere while leaving all those homes empty and unfilled. Its not a way to solve the housing crisis and its certainly not a way to save the money we supposedly need. Even the homes the Tories are building are left dormant because they are too expensive for the area, they are located in. With the way things are going the Tories will have to build more houses than they ever built before, because by 2041 homelessness is expected to doble. That is 400,000 more households if things do not change -a study by heriot-wat university. The evidence suggests that whatever the Tories are doing to end homelessness it is not working. Everything is not as bleak as I just told you though, the conservative has ended homelessness before. In the hight of the pandemic the conservatives got 90% of all rough sleepers off the streets and put them in hotels or hostels. This helped people apply for benefits, find jobs and get some more permanent assistance. People was helped during the pandemic, but when the funding ran out last July, homeless and the rough sleepers in the hotels and hostels where back out in the streets again. Alone and forgotten by the government that promised to end the very crisis they are apart of years ago. Theis shows that the Tories have the money to help the unfortune but they would rather sit on their arses chatting about what colour they should paint the walls of their house. More recently the Torie introduced a law what will fine people for sleeping in doorways. It really shows what the Tories care about, getting linings for their pockets. The Tories have the money to stop homelessness and when it was a danger to them, they stopped the issue what has been so recuing in our politics for decades. They helped the people who so desperately needed it only to chuck them back into the cold when covid-19 was no longer a danger to them.

4.       The conservatives fail to keep minorities safe in the society that they created. It is not surprise that the Tories are the most incompetent as ever. A study by BBC radio 5 found that hate crimes have doubled since 2013. An optimist would assume that is great, that there must mean that people have been reporting it more, right? Partly so. Although we have seen a rise in reports of hate crimes, the rate of prosecution has dropped down from 20% to just 8%. And that is just the tip of the iceberg, in a survey of faith-based organizations; the home office found that seven in ten of the employees surveyed has never reported a hate crime to the police where one happened. For a country where we are supposed to be the most tolerable it is no surprise that a big portion of the hate crimes committed are ones where the religion the victim followed played a big part. Our population, like many others, is influenced by our politicians. After Boris described Muslim women in burkas as “letterboxes” in an interview; citizen UK found that there where a surge in hate crime directed to Muslim women where the word “letterbox” was used. Again, continuing with the theme of hate crime against religions, Muslims made up half of the statistics in 2018 – 2019. The biggest spike we have seen in the last few years has been to Jewish people, where hate crimes against them have more since doubled. It is not a surprise since people seem to relate being a ‘good’ Jew to being a Zionist. Other minorities like trans youth under sixteen in England and whales now must go through everything that goes with puberty on top of not wanting to have the body you cuntly have all because TERF’s and conservatives do not think puberty blockers should be available to them.  At this point I genuinely think they want trans kids dead, how could you not see that the benefits of puberty blockers far out way the potential consequences. If puberty blockers really where the target they would have taken them of the shelfs completely, but they did not do that did they? They just restricted the rights of an already marginalised group more. Its not just trans kids but the fight for a third gender to finally get recognised is still waging on despite it being a battle since 2018. The government petition has been signed 136,000 times demanding non-binary finally be recognised as a valid gender in the eyes of the law. I hope I can get recognised as well as everyone else. It may not seem a big deal to some of you reading this but it is to thousands. Especially the people who want to go on hormones and medically transition. Because right now I and many other people are restricted and not allowed to get that service. If you are in the UK and you are of age, I urge you to signs the government petition. In other news the conservatives are just now getting to outlawing conversion therapy three years after they announced they would do so. It just shows how the party is not on target. On the topic of not on target let us talk about the increasing number of racial minorities becoming homeless because of lack of funding to their communities. Since the conservatives got into power in the 2010 racial minorities now make up 40% of all homeless despite being only 15% of the current population. It really shows how much they care about anyone who is not white. Yet people like my gran will continue to say they are doing enough for these underfunded communities.

the tory party really has nothing going for them, they are certainly not for the working class, they cannot solve homelessness and they do not give two fucks about minorities. To think anyone would vote form them is just amazing. Its fucking stupid to believe that they are anything but a bunch of rich shites dawdling around and thinking up ways to get more money into their pockets. To end this really all over the place essay, if you vote tory you are a massive twat.

Sources in comments:

[fillingthescrapbook]

Rewriting The CW's Kung Fu, Part 1: The Characters

Hello. I've written a few posts complaining about how The CW's Kung Fu was written and plotted. So instead of just complaining, I decided to do something productive: I'm going to rewrite the show.

This will be the first part in an eight-part series that would detail the things, I think, could've made the first season much stronger in terms of story-telling and character-building. Do take note that I will be writing this for The CW's target market: teens to young adults who are looking for both entertainment and representation.

Before we start with the story, let us first start with re-configuring the characters.

NICKY SHEN, mid to late 20s. The eldest daughter of first-generation immigrants, she feels pressured into following the path made for her by her parents. She carries a lot of guilt, having seen her parents struggle to raise her and her siblings in a land that's not always welcoming to foreigners--and then running away when she felt like she no longer had control over her life. She has spent the last three years in a monastery where her days are spent training in the martial arts, meditating, and farming. Upon her return home, she doesn't know what her place is in the world--and in her family--anymore.

HENRY YAN, mid to late 20s. A martial arts instructor at the Chinese community center, he becomes intrigued by Nicky's unique background and insight into their community. A working student, he has only recently continued his collegiate studies because of a checkered past he needed to deal with, as well as his family's financial struggles. He feels like he has a lot to prove because of people's preconceptions of who he is, based on what he had to do to survive.

EVAN HARTLEY, mid to late 20s. A San Francisco Assistant District Attorney, he is Nicky's best friend from childhood to law school. He is part of a hiring initiative that prioritizes people who can speak in multiple languages, and gets assigned many cases that come from Chinatown. He has recently proposed to his girlfriend, a fellow classmate of his and Nicky's from law school, thinking he has finally moved on from being left behind by the woman he loved three years ago...and then she, Nicky, comes back into his life.

RYAN SHEN, mid-20s. Nicky's younger brother who has just recently finished his internship at a local hospital; he is currently working as a resident physician at the same hospital he interned for--while volunteering his free time at the Chinese community center's free clinic. He is gay but has yet to tell his parents the truth, blaming Nicky for abandoning him when he was just about to confess. (Yes, I put him back in the closet for storytelling purposes.)

ALTHEA SHEN, mid-20s. Nicky's younger sister has put her career on hold to get married to her high school sweetheart. A sought-after computer engineer, Althea has surprised everyone--her parents included--when she suddenly gave up her high-ranking position at Cloudrush Capital to focus on her wedding. She is the most adjusted and mature out of the Shen siblings, seeing as her parents didn't have as much expectations from her as they did Nicky and Ryan.

SHEN MEI-LI, late 40s to early 50s. Nicky's mother comes from a very strict family and this has made her guarded with her emotions. She is very protective of her children and will do anything to keep them safe--including hide parts of her history she thinks will lead them astray. She works as the manager of Happy Dumplings, the restaurant she built with her husband Jin.

SHEN JIN, early to mid 50s. Nicky's father immigrated to San Francisco when he was a young man, inspired by the American Dream. He has a go-getter attitude which was further bolstered when he married Mei-Li, pushing him to move on from being a line cook at a faux-Chinese fast food chain to opening his own restaurant. Having been denied of better opportunities, he works hard to make sure that his children never has to face the same challenges he had in the past.

Okay, those are just broad strokes of who the characters are when the story begins. I've upgraded Evan to becoming an actual main character with a romantic subplot with Nicky since, if I'm not mistaken, that was the intention when they introduced him in the pilot. I've also downgraded Pei-Ling Zhang, Nicky's mentor to a recurring character--who we will get to now:

ZHANG PEI-LING, early 40s. A female monk at a Shaolin monastery, Pei-Ling helps Nicky escape from an arranged-marriage "love" tour by allowing her to hide in her truck. Pei-Ling is in charge of the martial arts training at the monastery, teaching her students that to keep a strong hand steady, one must also have a strong heart.

ZHANG ZHI-LAN, mid to late 30s. A businesswoman whose worldwide travels hide an international hunt for eight mystical weapons that would give the collector untold powers. She is Pei-Ling's sister who holds a lot of resentment because of the way their family broke apart. She keeps a cold and calculating facade to keep people away from her, afraid of being vulnerable enough to get emotionally hurt again.

DENNIS SOONG, mid 20s. Althea's fiancée who is the heir apparent of the Soong business empire. He has the practiced charm of a high school outcast who was slow to grow into his looks; although he became part of the popular crowd by the time he graduated, he never forgot the people who treated him as an equal back when he was a societal pariah. He is also a loving son, brother, and husband-to-be.

JOE HARPER, mid to late 20s. A freelance graphic artist who uses his talents, and his gift of gab, to fight for human rights. He is passionate, headstrong, and he never backs down from a challenge.

CHLOE SOONG, late teen. Dennis's younger sister who has fallen in with a bad crowd of bored rich teens. She feels out-of-place in her parents' perfect world, which draws her towards Nicky--who identifies with her plight to break out of the mold assigned to her.

SABINE SMITH, mid to late 20s. A classmate of Nicky's and Evan's from law school, Sabine is Evan's fiancée. She is nurturing and helpful, she is the one who pushes Evan to help Nicky settle back into her San Francisco life--not realizing she is also pushing Evan's feelings for Nicky back into the picture.

KERWIN TAN, late 20s to early 30s. A young socialite who becomes part of Nicky and Zhilan's race to find the eight mythical weapons of power. He is the youngest son of a business tycoon, Raymond Tan, who is also interested in collecting the weapons. He resents the competitive upbringing his father has given him and his siblings, which makes him decide to also join the hunt for the weapons.

MEI-XUE, late 40s. Mei-Li's younger sister, she ran away from home after discovering their family's warrior lineage--wanting to be the one to find the mythical weapons so she could keep them from falling into the wrong hands. In her journey to find the weapons, she discovers more about the power they can wield--which scares her into hiding in the mountains of Canada, with the help of a rich friend she made in her journeys.

STANLEY ANG, early 30s. He is an original character that I wanted to include for additional Chinese diversity. The only son of an old couple who were Mei-Li's friends before she migrated. He is intelligent, very savvy, but isn't very fluent in English. He works as a software developer for a programming company who had him (and his parents) move to their US office so he could oversee the projects he manages better.

Kung Fu has a few more important characters they introduce, but I'm staying with the ones who will make an impact to the story I'm rewriting.

If you've read my past gripes about the show, you would know that I don't like the fact that Zhi-lan (and Kerwin, later on) was shoved into our throats even when their storylines didn't need to be told. That opinion remains. But it doesn't change the fact that they do make an impact to the story--especially with the finale the show left us with. So they're retaining their recurring status in my rewrite.

And this is where we end for now. In the next post, I will be rejigging the pilot to better set-up who Nicky is and what her relationships are at the start of the series.

[waveypedia]

Key to a Memory

(warning for swearing)

~

{people need a melody to open their eyes

like a key to a memory frozen in time

holding on to everything, you’re stuck in the past

boy dontcha know that the world moves fast

it’s been a little while since we’ve been together

it’s been a long time since we were young and wild, remember

when we were friends, remember}

--

May 14, 2019 I 6:26 pm

UNKNOWN NUMBER: GYRO

UNKNOWN NUMBER: HEY GYRO

UNKNOWN NUMBER: It’s me Della!! Your bud!!!

UNKNOWN NUMBER: I’m back from space!!!

UNKNOWN NUMBER: I can’t believe you have the same number you nerd! lol I remember when Uncle Scrooge finally forced you to get a phone and you got a super cheap one and then upgraded it with your own tech

UNKNOWN NUMBER: I can’t wait to see how much more upgraded and fancy your phone is now!

UNKNOWN NUMBER: sorry for not texting you sooner I got back a couple days ago but things have just been really hectic since then ya know??

UNKNOWN NUMBER: anyway I know you’re probably busy changing the world and inventing amazing things for Uncle Scrooge

UNKNOWN NUMBER: he told me you got an intern!! Congrats!! I can’t wait to meet them

UNKNOWN NUMBER: just call me when you get a chance ok? I’d really like to catch up

--

“GYRO!!” Della screamed, kicking open the door to the lab. Gyro scowled at his desk and scrawled a quick note to outfit the elevator with self-opening doors. The scientist sighed and stood up reluctantly, stepping around his desk to be in full view. “What is it now, Della?”

Della sprinted into the lab, her grin threatening to split her face in two. She exuberantly waved a bundle of papers in Gyro’s face. “Donnie and I got tickets to the new Galaxy Wars movie, and you’re coming!! Thursday at 6!! Be there or be square!!”

Gyro snorted and gently waved her off, pushing the tickets out of his face. “Dels, I’m busy here. Besides, any self-respecting scientist knows those movies are garbage.”

Della fake-pouted and slung her arm around Gyro’s shoulders, despite the height difference. She had to lean and go up on her tiptoes to manage, making Gyro burst out in a fit of laughter. She shrugged, tugging Gyro down to her height. “Whatever. The premiere was a couple weeks ago, so you probably won’t get into a fistfight with an overzealous fan this time-”

“-Their fault-” Gyro muttered under his breath as Della prattled on.

“-Aaaaaand Cousin Gladdy’ll be there! With his luck we probably won’t get kicked out by the ushers,” Della finished proudly.

Gyro rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Ugh, Gladstone? That man is too self-absorbed. Takes one to know one. And does that mean Fethry will be there as well?”

“Yep!” Della beamed. “He loves science, Gy, and he loves you! He’ll grow on you one day.”

“Highly unlikely.” Gyro shoved her arm off and stretched, standing up to his full height. “I grudgingly respect Fethry’s passion and his interest in scientific fields. He’s just so…” Gyro huffed. “Annoying.”

Della poked him in the beak. “Whatever. If you think Fethry’s annoying, my buddy Loopy from flight school will be there and she’ll blow your mind. But in a good way! Loopy’s amazing!”

Gyro groaned and slapped a hand on his face, slowly dragging it down. “Loopy and I are your only friends, aren’t we?”

Della puffed her chest out in mock effrontery. “I have lots of friends! I’m the best at making friends! They’re just all over the globe, you know, cause of all the amazing and daring adventuring I do!”

Gyro snorted and knocked his friend with his shoulder. “Whatever. When one of these international ‘friends’ comes around to Duckburg and hangs out with you beyond the adventure, let me know.”

Della smirked. “So you’ll be there?”

“Fine. I’ll be there.” Gyro affirmed, rolling his eyes.Della beamed mischievously. “Wonderful! See you there! Also it’s a sleepover and I’m adding you to a group chat specifically for this event now byeeeeee!!!”

“WHAT?!” Gyro squawked, racing after Della, but the elevator dinged and carried her far away. “Della! No! Come back! DELLA!!! I WILL NOT SUBJECT MYSELF TO THE TORTURES OF YOUR CHILDISH SLEEPOVER!!!” He chanced a look at his phone. It was already blowing up with texts from Della and Fethry.

Gyro groaned and slammed his head down on his desk, grateful for the solitude of his lab. He pulled up the calendar Scrooge filled with his deadlines from the board and added the movie night so he wouldn’t forget. A small, pleased smile played at his beak.

He picked up his phone, muted the group chat, and returned to his work.

 --

read 9:28 pm

--

May 15 I 4:03 pm

Della Duck: hey dumbass

Della Duck: they have read receipts now stupid

Della Duck: I know you saw my messages

Della Duck: whatever I know you’re hella busy just call me when you get the chance

Della Duck: hahah did you see that? hella! I used new slang!

Della Duck: Louie taught it to me :D

Della Duck: I can’t believe his name is Louie and not Rebel! I’m kinda mad at Donald but also it suits him more than Rebel

Della Duck: Dewey though… he’s DEFINITELY a Turbo

Della Duck: Huey could go either way but he’s okay with Huey so I guess I am too

Della Duck: It’s a lot to take in

Della Duck: although Webby would be overjoyed to be Jet or Rebel

Della Duck: I can’t believe I have an extra daughter!!! how cool is that?? four kids for the price of three!!

Della Duck: or maybe it’s more like six kids for the price of three since Webby had friends over today and they all seem close

Della Duck: Ooh you know who would be a good Rebel? Lena! apparently she just came back from the shadow realm??? I missed so much

Della Duck: i can’t believe you guys got to fight magica de spell without me AND she had a kid

Della Duck: she’s still kinda hot ngl

Della Duck: but louie showed me a picture of her after she lost her magic and ehhhh

Della Duck: but also there are lots of hot people around these days and I’m kinda freaked out

Della Duck: like I made a best friend of my roommate on the moon!! Her name’s Penumbra but I call her Penny and I’d let her stomp on me. Best part is she probably would

Della Duck: also Uncle Scrooge got a new pilot & driver and I hate him cause he’s sorta replacing me?? But also he’s hot in a himbo kinda way

Della Duck: I know you have insanely high standards but you gotta back me up here gyro Launchpad is kinda hot

Della Duck: damn i’ve missed our conversations about various hot people and our lack of love lives

Della Duck: I told you about Penny you gotta fill me in on the current hotties in the Duckburg science community

Della Duck: I also met your intern! He seems nice ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ) ;) ;) ;)

Della Duck: i can hear your voice. “Della that is an excessive amount of emoticons”

Della Duck: well if you want me to stop you’ll just have to reply ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;) ;)

Della Duck: at least you’re not telling me to use “emojis”Della Duck: apparently they all have hidden meanings and I don’t understand

Della Duck: Louie, Dewey, and Lena tried to teach Uncle Scrooge and I

Della Duck: I’m ashamed to say I think he fared better than I did

Della Duck: he’s old!! He’s supposed to be clueless!! I’m not old I was just on the moon for a decade!! That’s gotta count for something right?

4:46 pm

Della Duck: i see how it is

Della Duck: ignore me all you want but i’m right

--

The sun was nearly below the horizon, painting the evening sky and the waves below it in a plethora of muted colors, when Della broke the topic. “Yo. I think Magica de Spell is kinda hot.”

Gyro swerved to stare at her so fast he felt something in his neck crack. “Magica?! She’s ancient; are you crazy?!”

Della shrugged, kicking sand around absentmindedly with her bare toes. “Yeah, but she doesn’t look it. She’s hot in an unattainable kind of way.”

Gyro snorted, loud and sad. “I know how that feels.”

Della nudged him teasingly. “What’s going on in your love life? I shared, now you have to.”

Gyro rolled his eyes and nudged her back, harder. “You know nothing’s happening.” He shrugged carelessly. “It’s not like I have much time outside of work.”

“Yeah, but that’s because you refuse to take care of yourself and you act like you’ll die if you leave the lab,” Della said good-naturedly. “You should come on an adventure with us!”

Gyro sighed contentedly and waved her away. “I’ll stick to the lab, thanks. My inventions’ corrupted morality circuits provide me quite enough stress and adventure, thank you very much.”

(He couldn’t very well tell her that her dear ol’ uncle had entrusted him with the project of a lifetime, his chance to thank her for her gift of friendship, his chance to prove himself to Mr. McDuck for once and for all, his chance to redeem himself from the smoking failure that was 2BO. He didn’t have to run himself ragged working on the Spear of Selene day and night, but this was important, far more important than anything Gyro had worked on at McDuck Industries before. For his career, and for his friendship. And he wanted to do it right.)

(Shame he failed in the end anyway.)

Della sighed assent, smiling, and leaned back on her elbows, working her fingers into the sand. She had given up for now, but Gyro knew she would broach the subject again soon, from a new angle, with a new tactic. Della Duck never gave up.

“Maybe one day,” Gyro said, surprising himself. After this whole Spear debacle is said and done.

Della beamed and knocked her shoulder into his affectionately. “I’ll hold you to that!”

Gyro smiled wryly. “I know you will.”

--

Gyro pushed up his glasses and studied Della’s texts, willing his eyes not to unfocus and his brain not to zone out. He read them once, twice, three times. Four.

He began typing.

Gyro Gearloose: I remember-

Gyro Gearloose: My love life is as nonexistent as it was when you left-

Gyro Gearloose: emojis are zealous anyway-

Gyro Gearloose: I’m sorry-

He deleted his words, frustrated, nerves and old, painful memories rubbed raw, and never sent a reply.

--

June 11 I 2:09 pm

Della Duck: so Fenton and I went out for coffee today

Della Duck: not on a date, just as a chance to get to know each other platonically

Della Duck: he’s so much like you

Della Duck: not on the surface. In fact you guys are pretty much opposites

Della Duck: but you both care so much, even though you show it differently

Della Duck: i know you care your prickly demeanor can’t fool me

Della Duck: you’re both incredibly passionate about sciences

Della Duck: you’re both super awkward

Della Duck: he has high praise for you, and he really admires you, but it sounds like you’re not that close and I think you totally should be!

Della Duck: I know you’re probably annoyed that I’m meddling in your (love) life again, but get used to it!! I’m the best wingman and friend and I’m here to stay!!

Della Duck: even if you don’t text me back

Della Duck: (but seriously, please text me back. I miss you.)

Della Duck: he said you might need some space and I guess that makes sense but i just don’t understand why

Della Duck: that’s the only reason I haven’t stormed down to the lab by now

Della Duck: Did i do something before I took off for the moon?

Della Duck: or are you like Donnie and you’re mad?Della Duck: at least I think Donnie’s mad

Della Duck: or he will be

Della Duck: he’s on a cruise, Gyro! A fucking cruise!!!

Della Duck: he left the day I got back and now he’s gone for a fucking month

Della Duck: he thinks I’m dead

Della Duck: I miss him so much

Della Duck: the cruise doesn’t allow cell phones so I can’t even contact him and tell him I’m alive

Della Duck: But Huey and I sent postcards!! I don’t know if they’ll reach him but I really hope they do

Della Duck: Huey and Webby have been checking the mailbox meticulously to see if he sends one back

Della Duck: sorry for ranting

Della Duck: I just miss him

Della Duck: I miss you too you know? Yeah i’m being stupid sappy again but it’s dumb that you’re right here, across the city, and we haven’t talked

Della Duck: call me gyro you fucking coward

2:43 pm

Della Duck: also Fenton is totally Gizmoduck right

Della Duck: I met Gizmoduck once when he came to formally greet me

Della Duck: and i’ve seen him around the city lots

Della Duck: but they’re so similar. They have the same mannerisms

Della Duck: I guess that means you built his armor then right?

Della Duck: or you helped

Della Duck: it’s great Gyro

Della Duck: look at you! An invention that didn’t turn evil!!

Della Duck: I’m proud of you bud

--

“Have you ever thought about hiring someone to help in the lab?” Della asked one day, apropos of nothing.

She had dragged Gyro into a fancy coffee shop - one he’d probably be banned from had he attempted to patronize it on his own, and one he would be in the post-Spear of Selene era - and forced him to take a break from the top secret project he’d been devoting all his time to. They bought overpriced, bougie coffees on Mr. McDuck’s dime and traded jabs without any real bite to them, as was customary for them. Della mocked Gyro’s unique taste for black licorice, again. Same old, same old.

And then, this.

Gyro paused, his ceramic mug halfway to his face. “I’m fine on my own. Any help would only get in my way. They would stumble over their own feet and I would have to take precious time off of my own projects to tediously help them flail and fall.”

Della set down her coffee and leaned forward with her elbows on the table. “You’re so cynical. Besides, you’re working yourself to death down there! It might help if you had someone else to lighten the load.”

Gyro paused. “I suppose I might be more productive if I didn’t have to do the menial tasks beneath me…”

“-And you could make a FRIEND!!!” Della cheered, standing up and leaning heavily on the table, her enthusiasm thundering in full-force. “Someone to chat with on late nights deep in projects, someone who understands your passion for science, someone you can count on when Donnie and I are off on an adventure!”

Gyro groaned, startled at first but then settling into resignation. “I should have known you had an ulterior motive.”

Della giggled, batting her eyelashes jokingly. “I only have your best interests at heart.”

Gyro shrugged and swirled his quickly-cooling coffee around in his mug. “Besides, Dels, you know there’s a reason you’re one of my only friends, right? You and Dickie and Daisy, you’re the people I’m closest with and that’s because you wouldn’t put up with my prickly, stay-alone-all-the-time bullshit. You guys drag me out of whatever place I’m holed up in kicking and screaming. Most people are not like that. I’m lucky to have three of you,” he admitted in the kind of moment of uncharacteristic vulnerability and clarity that only comes when you’re with someone you really trust.

Della snorted and reached across the table to shove Gyro gently. “Shut your self-depricating hole, Gyro Gearloose. Trust me, I wouldn’t put up with you if I didn’t want to.”

Gyro smirked, a small smile chasing away the dark storm clouds that covered his face. “I know, Dels.”

“Good.” Della replied self-assuredly. “I love Dickie and Daisy, and I love that they love you, but they’re not local. You need more friends, Gyro.”

“Maybe,” Gyro hummed softly, the closest he would ever come to admitting it. “But it’s even harder to get along with coworkers, and the chances of my subordinate being someone who actually wants to be friends with me is abysmal.”

Della shrugged. “Sometimes you learn to like each other. Like me ‘n Donnie! We drive each other crazy, but we have each other’s backs when it matters, and we’re always there for each other.”

Gyro snorted. “This hypothetical person and I will be coworkers, Dels, not siblings. That’s different. Besides, you and Donald love each other too much to be healthy.”

“Yeah, but Donnie and Uncle Scrooge and I are a little like coworkers, aren’t we? Adventuring is our job, and it’s very stressful at times,” Della said.

Gyro shook his head. “Dels, honestly, you have to get a job at some point. Mr. McDuck won’t let you leech off of him for much longer now, and you have no experience. It’s really not the same.”

Della shrugged. “At some point. I know Uncle Scrooge is biting at the bit, especially after Donnie joined the Navy, but I don’t want the responsibilities and schedules of work to tie me down and take me away from adventuring, you know? It’s the same reason I didn’t go off to college.”

“I still think you should have,” Gyro replied, smiling wryly. “You’re bright and you’d flourish being able to study what you choose.”

“I learn a lot adventuring,” Della replied smugly, stubborn as always. “I can speak seven languages fluently, you know!”

“Even if most of them are dead, or belong to otherworldly beings from alternate dimensions,” Gyro pointed out.

Della sighed contentedly and shook her head. “Whatever. What’s done is done, and I’ll get a job someday. But just think about it, Gyro, all right?” She locked gazes with Gyro pleadingly.

Gyro sighed in defeat. “Fine. I will give it some thought. But don’t get your hopes up, all right?”

Della smirked. “Whatever you say.”

Gyro put his head in his hands, roughly shoving aside his expensive coffee. (He was lucky it didn’t crash and burn, like most of his inventions.)

She’s not gonna win this one, Gyro aggressively promised himself. I can’t subject anyone else to my bullshit.

(The only reason he assented and allowed an intern on, in the future, was because Scrooge all but ordered it. He saw firsthand the way having positive people around improves lives and wanted that for Gyro too, especially with Della gone and Donald barely speaking to him. And if Mr. McDuck’s not-so-subtle hints and gentle persuasion-turned direct orders gave Gyro crystal-clear flashbacks to Della’s not-so-gentle prodding, and if he cried that night after his boss left, well, no one would be anyone the wiser.)

(He got quite lucky with Fenton and Manny, though. Some of that was the Board's thorough vetting process, but some of it was Scrooge himself intervening, because he wanted Gyro to make a friend as badly as Della had.)

--

August 15 I 7:26 pm

Della Duck: all right

Della Duck: I talked to Fenton again

Della Duck: i’m sorry for bothering you

Della Duck: it hurts to not talk to you but I’m gonna give you your space

Della Duck: I’m here whenever you’re ready

Della Duck: but please be ready soon Gyro i’m impatient

I know you are, Gyro nearly whispered as he read the texts. It felt like a finality, a surrender. But that couldn’t be right, because Della Duck never gave up.

How could he and his stupid, stupid inability to communicate his feelings and face his irrational fears be the one thing that forced Della Duck to admit defeat?

(read 7:58 pm)

--

The McDuck Annual Holiday Party was in full swing when Gyro arrived quietly. Launchpad had offered to drive him with Fenton, Manny, and Scrooge when they left a couple of hours ago, but Gyro had stayed to put the finishing touches on his current project, lest he lose his motivation.

That was the only reason. Not because Della would be there, and he might be forced to talk to her. No, sir.

Gyro clenched his fists so tight his knuckles turned white in the pockets of his vest. Who was he kidding? He wasn’t fooling himself, and he certainly wasn’t fooling his friends family coworkers. Every single one of them, even Mr. McDuck (now that was painful) had tossed him a look that ranged from disappointed to knowing to pitying as they left for the party. It made Gyro want to scream in rage and slam his fists against the wall until they were bruised and bloody. But even he knew that was unacceptable party behavior. (Mrs. Beakley had humiliatingly taken him aside for a quick rundown on which of his usual behaviors were not applicable at company parties.)

Steeling himself for a night of faux cheer and passive-aggressive conversations, Gyro quietly opened the door and slipped inside. Skirting on the outskirts of the party, he scanned the room desperately for allies to swarm to and enemies to avoid.

He spotted Fenton and Launchpad first, amicably chatting up the legendary Greek hero Storkules and his sister, the equally inexplicable and ethereal goddess Selene. (A mystery to unpack at a later date.) Beside them was the gruff Moonlander that Della seemed to love.

Gyro set his jaw. He could handle chatty immortals and aggressive aliens. At least they probably wouldn’t have a personal vendetta against him because of a malfunctioning invention or a poorly placed comment. He waded determinedly through the sluggish crowd, surprisingly stopped a couple times by friendly faces. (Boyd’s hug of greeting lasted almost three minutes, and that didn’t even account for the rest of the overzealously affectionate kids.)

Looking back, he’s lucky his the kids stalled him, because when he finally emerged from Webby’s hug, his eyes locked on his own personal horror story.

Della.

This was the first time Gyro had actually seen her since she’d come back from the moon. Her hair was longer, if only slightly, and her metal leg gleamed in the light from the chandeliers above. (His fingers itched to get his hands on it and upgrade it, toy with it, make it into a personal project, but he adamantly refused himself.)

Alongside the physical differences, Gyro noticed some changes to her demeanor as well. She seemed more… weathered, and tired, despite the ever-present spark of energy she seemed to radiate and her unwavering grin. It was cliché, and Dr. Gyro Gearloose hated clichés with a passion, but she had an almost haunted look in her eyes, contrasting her radiating cheery energy.

She was different, and he was different. So much time had passed. It seemed almost impossible that the duck in front of him was the same duck that Gyro had shared coffee and secrets with almost daily ten years ago.

And yet he yearned to return to their easy friendship. Not for the first time, Gyro wished desperately to go back in time a decade and stop the Spear of Selene from ever happening.

Della slipped between Penumbra and Selene, glowing in the way only an extrovert in social situations can. By way of greeting, she hugged everyone, even Fenton (!!!). She settled at last, hanging off Penumbra’s shoulder with Selene’s arm around her and Launchpad’s jacket around her shoulders (how she had acquired that, Gyro had no idea).

Unfortunately for Gyro, from her new position, she had a perfect view of him, stuck with only a single sparse group between them. Her eyes strayed to lock onto him and he froze, panic creeping in a mile a minute.For a moment neither moved, staring at each other.

She hadn’t texted him since August, true to her word, albeit how much it hurt for both of them. She had come to the lab a couple times, to pick up Fenton and/or Manny for coffee or to pick up or drop off Huey, Webby, or Boyd. But Gyro had always hid like the coward he was, terrified to face his best friend. The last time they’d talked was the day before Della took off in the Spear of Selene, ten years and eight months ago.

At last, after four months, and nine months of radio silence from his end, here she was, almost close enough to touch.

Then Gyro’s fight-or-flight instinct kicked in and he turned tail and ran, panic clouding his vision and his judgement. He shoved one of the Sabrewing husbands roughly aside (Scrooge would undoubtedly make him apologize for that later) in his frantic quest to escape all the raw emotions, of hurt and guilt and self-hatred, that sprung up all of a sudden.

His eyes locked on a door and he wrenched it open before slamming it shut. He leaned hard against the door, hands clenched around the handle, breathing hard.

Only once the panic began creeping away and his breathing slowed did Gyro finally process his surroundings. He was in a small broom closet, filled to the brim with glittery party supplies Mrs. Beakley had probably denied Webby. (She would probably find a way to sneak them into the party sometime later.)

And perched precariously on top of a box labeled “glitter fireworks” was a woman Gyro had met once, in the Old West, two hundred years ago.

Goldie O’Gilt sized him up, panicked and ruffled, and apparently decided he was no threat. She slid gracefully down from the boxes. “What brings you here, to the closet of forgotten and abandoned party supplies? Girl troubles?”

Gyro wanted to laugh, because technically, she was right. “I’m gay,” he replied, giving her his best deadpan stare. It was lacking.

She assessed him, trying hard not to smile, before bursting out laughing. Gyro barely resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands. “People problems, whatever. Please. You can’t fool me, hun.”

Gyro crossed his arms testily. “Why are you here? Away with you.”

Goldie grinned smugly, pretending to examine her nails. “Oh, nothing special. Just some extra fun for Scroogey later. May or may not involve glitter fireworks. You?”

Gyro snorted, without any real humor behind it, and rolled his eyes. “Great. Well, I have better things to do than watch you drive Mr. McDuck up the wall. See ya.”

“This is about Scroogey’s rediscovered niece, isn’t it?” Goldie called after him, as if as an afterthought.

Gyro froze, his fingers curled around the doorknob. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t, really,” Goldie hummed, faking disinterest. “But spare an old woman some juicy gossip, would ya? ‘Sides, I’m a professional conwoman. I see all the angles, and yours is in plain sight.”

Gyro scowled and shifted so he could see Goldie’s face again. She was smirking, small but triumphant, which did nothing to quell Gyro’s steadily growing mix between annoyance and panic. “And I suppose this has nothing to do with ‘Aunt Goldie,’ would it?”

Goldie shrugged nonchalantly, but the smile on her beak shifted into a small pout of annoyance. “I’ll do you a favor and be honest with you. Cherish this moment; it won’t happen again.”

She sighed and leaned more heavily against the precariously stacked boxes. “I may have missed Della and her adventurous, rambunctious spirit over the years,” she confessed, suddenly looking a good deal more like the age-old tired adventurer she was. “It hurts to see that spirit quenched, especially when I just got her back. She hasn’t even frustratingly tagged along to one of Scroogey and I’s not-so-solo adventures! And… I care about her. She’s almost my niece.”

Gyro frowned, stunned at Goldie’s clarity. “...Oh.”

Goldie straightened up and whipped out a shiny knife from the folds of her dress. “But tell anyone, especially Della or Scrooge, and they’ll never know what happened to ya,” she warned, wagging the knife in the direction of Gyro’s face.

He pressed himself against the door while maintaining his scowl, despite the fact that it was too far away to hurt him. He knew what she could do if she put her mind to it. “I won’t.”

Goldie slipped the knife back into the folds of her dress, where it seemed to magically disappear from her hand. “Good. Now go get my niece’s spirit back,” she instructed strictly, shoving Gyro not-so-subtly towards the door.

He wrenched it open and slipped surreptitiously outside, glancing around the party. The crowds seemed to have thinned a little.

Gyro spotted Della easily. She, Donald, and Mrs. Beakley were gently corralling the gaggle of children upstairs - it was quite late, after all. Gyro started to step towards her, then hesitated.

He chickened out and sprinted unsteadily outside instead, taking in big mouthfuls of the refreshingly cold December air.

The chill set in after a few moments and he wrapped his arms around himself, shivering, and despairingly started the long trek away from the mansion.

His phone was buzzing with worried texts from his friends (and Della, no doubt), but Gyro set his jaw and walked on, stubbornly ignoring their annoyingly righteous concern. No use telling everyone he lost his nerve again, just like every time Della texted.

Gyro gritted his teeth and pulled the collar of his jacket over the lower half of his face as protection against the biting winds. The physical pain lessened, but the icy feeling in his gut did not. He balled his hands into fists, as if to physically punch his overwhelming guilt and regret away.

I’m a bad friend.

--

Early April was always a little tough for Gyro, with the anniversary of the destruction he inadvertently sowed in Tokyolk. It got better with time, but the early years were always a little rough.

(And after that he always had another grief-filled and regretful anniversary to observe in April, anyway.)

He was pushing through it, though, by throwing himself into his work. This year was especially easy. The Spear of Selene was almost done, and would probably be finished just before the eggs’ hatching.

The last time he talked to Della was when he was taking a quick, rare break the day before what would be the second-worst day of Gyro’s life. (Tokyolk took first, if only narrowly.) He had gone off on a quest in search of coffee - he was at the launch lot, and he’d unfortunately been banned from the closest coffee shop. (It was their fault anyway - what kind of coffee shop didn’t want an automatic coffee bean stocker? Even if it tried to stock customers when there were no beans left? Really, they shouldn’t have run out of beans. And his price of free coffee for life was so reasonable and small, really, when he usually frequented the one closer to the lab. Their loss.)

“Gyro!” Della sprinted up to him, face flushed from running in the chilly winds and early spring air. She held out a coffee from the aforementioned shop to him with a grin, prompting his frustrated rant, but Della just let him prattle on with a goofy grin gracing her face.

“What’s going on?” Gyro finally demanded, after watching Della beam ardently at his violent threats and calls for justice and revenge towards the coffee shop. “Your smile is… sillier than usual. Which is saying something.”

Della waved him off, his insult breezing past her. “It’s a surprise. You’ll see!!”

Gyro raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Is it a good surprise?”

Della beamed triumphantly back at him. “Definitely.”

Gyro frowned dubiously, but he knew Della well. For all her recklessness, when she was this sure about something, her judgement was usually worth listening to.

(Later, he’d wish he hadn’t listened to her, and trusted his own gut, for once.)

He shrugged. “I highly doubt it’s as good as you think it is,” he replied haughtily, prompting carefree laughter from Della.

“It definitely is. Just you wait.” She reached out with her free hand and booped him on the beak, causing him to reel back, away from her. “I can make an educated guess that you’ll love it.”

Gyro rolled his eyes at her rudimentary science terminology, causing her to giggle. “If it’s another movie night with Fethry, I’ll pass.”

“Better than that,” Della promised, her smug grin turning downright devious. It didn’t faze Gyro in the slightest.

He shrugged carelessly. “With you, that could either mean better or worse. Otherwise known as pure, unadulterated torture for me.”

Della laughed, but her smile softened into something more vulnerable and emotional, no longer masked by a carefree and reckless demeanor. “I’m telling you, Gyro. You’ll love it. Come on, when have I ever been wrong?’’

Gyro barked a laugh. “Do you really want me to answer that? Because I have a full comprehensive list at the top of my head, and that only covers the basics.”

“Hating black licorice doesn’t count,” Della protested. “It tastes worse than every iteration of Hell, and I’ve been to every iteration of Hell!”

Gyro raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Did you taste every iteration of Hell?”

Della rolled her eyes playfully. “Whatever. Just trust me on this one, will you?” she asked, hitting him with that almost vulnerable expression again.

Gyro huffed. “Fine.” He stuck a finger pompously in the air. “But I reserve the right to pass judgement when I see it.”

Della sighed without any real weight behind it. “Fine, whatever you want. But trust me, you’ll be blown away by the amazingness of this surprise!!!”

“We’ll see about that,” Gyro replied, smirking. “Now, away with you!! I have a highly important project to finish - which is unanimously more important than whatever surprise you have cooked up - and I simply cannot afford any distractions!!”

Della snorted knowingly. “Whatever. See you tomorrow at my amazing surprise! And you’re welcome for the coffee, Mr. Banned-From-Coffee-Shops!!”

Gyro shook his head fondly and made his way down the hill back to the lot. The Spear of Selene loomed in front of him, shining in the weak midday sun. It seemed frozen, waiting, on edge.

“Soon,” Gyro promised to no one in particular. He climbed inside to make some last-minute tweaks to the nuanced controls. “You’ll be in the air by May at the latest,” he promised, patting the cold metal of the rocketship. “Just let me make sure this is perfect. So nothing could ever go wrong.”

--

Jan 3, 2020 I 5:47 am

Donald Duck: hey asshole

Donald Duck: fyi Della’s really upset

Donald Duck: she really missed her friends ya know?

Donald Duck: Look, Gyro

Donald Duck: I know how this feels

Donald Duck: I know you’re scared

Donald Duck: but dude you face scarier stuff every day when your inventions go evil

Donald Duck: if you can face Lil’ Bulb turning evil not once but twice and still call him your son I think you can face your best friend

Donald Duck: and i know I said some shitty things to you the day we lost her and I’m sorry, that was uncalled for

Donald Duck: I was upset, as were you

Donald Duck: I forgive you if that’s not clear

Donald Duck: i forgave you a long time ago

Donald Duck: Della has too

Donald Duck: she never blamed you

Donald Duck: except maybe for the flavor of Oxy-Chew. But that saved her life, Gyro!

Donald Duck: I know I said your invention killed her, but your invention also saved her, and after she fixed it your invention brought her home

Donald Duck: now she’s back, but you’re losing her again

--

Gyro stumbling blearily awake, fumbling for his glasses, tired and disoriented, was nothing outside of the norm. He was a secluded, inane inventor with few friends, little social interaction, and no sleep schedule. Not to mention the plethora of projects piled on his desk vying for his attention, and the ever-present mug of coffee in his hand. (At the moment, there was a half-empty one on his desk, placed precariously on top of some blueprints.)

But his latest cup of coffee’s predicament was the least of Gyro’s worries at the moment. Because his phone, charging on his bedside, was blowing up. And that was decidedly not normal.

Gyro, at this point in time, didn’t have social media yet. (Fenton, Louie, and Dewey didn’t exist in his life yet, and so they had not had a chance to plot and execute an intervention.) Sometimes his phone blew up from the group chat with Daisy and Dickie, or the group chat with Della, Daisy, and Dickie, or just Della when she got excited. Or Fethry, once in a while, but Gyro was certain he’d blocked Fethry’s number this time.

Gyro clumsily put on his glasses and pulled himself up into a sitting position, still half-asleep. He scrolled through his notifications, frowning.

Mostly missed calls from Donald and Scrooge, a couple confused text notifications from Gladstone, two missed calls from the Board (that couldn’t be good), and one from Roxanne Featherly, a trainee journalist under Angus Fangus who had taken an unfortunate liking to calling him whenever one of his inventions went haywire.

Panic began to stir in Gyro’s gut.

The weirdest part, though, was that most of the notifications had not come from Della. She was by far his most ardent caller, and she had called, a couple times, but they were all over an hour ago. They were all buried by the rest of his missed calls.

Odd. Very odd.

Gyro tried calling Della first, to soften the blow of whatever was happening. Della wouldn’t sugarcoat the problem. She knew better. But there was something about her contagious enthusiasm and optimism, as well as her face-it-head-on attitude, that made whatever issue was at hand seem less daunting.

But his call went to voicemail.

Gyro shook his head, confused and more than a little scared at this point. Della almost never refused his calls, even if she was on an adventure (as long as she had cell service). It annoyed Donald to no avail, but Gyro was grateful for it - he didn’t reach out for social interaction with no reason.

But now? It only scared Gyro.

He frowned, contemplating, and called Donald next. Scrooge was more likely to call unprompted than Donald, and he didn’t want to deal with the Buzzards or Featherly yet, so Donald it was.

He picked up on the third ring.“Oh, so now he picks up!! When he can’t be of any help!! What’s the big idea, Doctor?!”

Gyro scowled, annoyance beginning to mix with the terror in his gut. “For your information, I just woke up. Now, what is going on?! Della won’t answer my calls and I have an ungodly amount of notifications at three AM. Seriously, people.”

“You want to know what is going on?!” Donald screamed, his voice and temper steadily rising. Gyro flinched at the volume, but kept the phone pressed close to his ear out of half morbid curiosity and half unwanted worry. “I’ll tell you what’s going on!!! Scrooge just killed Della!! And he used your stupid, untrustworthy invention to do it!!!”

Gyro nearly dropped the phone.“...Killed?” he nearly whispered. “How? The Spear of Selene isn’t ready yet and-”

“She took it!!” Donald screeched. “She took that good-for-nothing rocket and flew straight into a cosmic storm!”

“She wasn’t supposed to!” Gyro spluttered, numb. “She wasn’t even supposed to know about it yet!”

“Well, she did!” Donald spat darkly. “And now she’s gone. She left her boys orphaned. What were you thinking, making her that rocket?!”

“It was Mr. McDuck’s idea,” Gyro whispered numbly, automatically. “He- I- We never thought-”

“Scrooge,” Donald growled, and if Gyro knew him well enough he was dragging a frustrated hand down his face. “Of course. He’s too reckless and careless. He killed my sister.”

Gyro rubbed at his eyes under his glasses, unable to think of a coherent response. “I- I don’t think-”

“That’s right, you don’t think,” Donald snarled. “None of you do. And now my sister is dead, thanks to Scrooge. And you. Lose my number, Gyro. You won’t see me again.”

Click.

Gyro stared numbly at the floor, his phone still pressed against his ear, as the dial tone played. Finally, he slowly lowered it to his side and dropped it on the bed next to him before taking off his glasses and dropping his head into his hands.

Then, finally, he cried.

Della Duck. Dead. His best friend. Dead.

It was impossible, improbable. Della Duck was a famed adventurer barely two decades old. She breathed life. She had faced perils and terrors far worse than a cosmic storm, sustained injuries far worse, and bounced back.

Dead.

Because of Gyro’s invention. Maybe if he had worked a little harder, been a little more meticulous, he could have saved her.

He had failed again, gambled and lost with precious lives again, caused death and destruction again. It was Tokyolk all over again, and this time, the lost stakes were even more personal.

Gyro grabbed his phone suddenly, shakingly off the bed and pulled up Della’s contact. Her face beamed back at him, so full of life it seemed to burst from the tiny circle on his cracked phone screen.

He called her again, listening to it ring with baited breath even though he already knew the outcome.

“Hey, this is Della Duck, adventurer extraordinaire! I’m probably trekking through the Amazon or fighting a demon monarch in another dimension right now. Catch ya later!”

Gyro hung up before she could finish her last syllable and sobbed.

--

February 28 I 2:26 pm

Della Duck: fyi I’m picking Huey up today instead of Launchpad since he has a sleepover with his friend Jason today

Della Duck: you know

Della Duck: in case you wanna hide from me again

Della Duck: btw do you care if I snag that magnifying glass that shrinks people in like a month? We’re gonna go to Miniapolis soon

Della Duck: i mean i’m gonna take it anyway but figured you might want a heads up

March 14 I 5:18 pm

Gyro Gearloose: go ahead

Della Duck: GYRO!!!!

Della Duck: oh sorry

Della Duck: look I’m really excited but I also don’t wanna come on too strong

Gyro Gearloose: you’re fine

Della Duck: :D

Gyro Gearloose: it’s my fault I was being a coward

Gyro Gearloose: i couldn’t face my emotions and that was shitty of me

Della Duck: Gyro i took off in a rocket at midnight without telling anyone and left my kids without a mother for a decade

Della Duck: i win for stupid shitty actions here

Gyro Gearloose: it’s not a contest

Gyro Gearloose: we’re both shitty and stupid let’s leave it at that

Della Duck: yeah ur right

Gyro Gearloose: but dels

Gyro Gearloose: I’m sorry

Gyro Gearloose: it’s been almost a year and i fucking ignored you

Gyro Gearloose: i had the chance to get you back and i didn’t take it

Della Duck: hey

Della Duck: it’s okay

Della Duck: i know this is all a lot

Della Duck: i’m here now and that’s what matters

Gyro Gearloose: della i’m so glad

Della Duck: hey Huey is coming to the lab today

Della Duck: what if I come to pick him up and then you and I go out and catch up?

Della Duck: get expensive coffee on Uncle Scrooge’s dime just like old times?

Gyro Gearloose: fuck yeah

Gyro Gearloose: I’ve missed our expensive shitty coffee and gossip

Gyro Gearloose: I have SO much shit to talk about Dr. Akita

Gyro Gearloose: god

Gyro Gearloose: I hate him now

Della Duck: oh man

Della Duck: Huey told me a bit about Tokyolk but I want to hear all about it for you

Della Duck: and Boyd!!! Omg I can’t believe you’re a father

Della Duck: he’s so sweet

Gyro Gearloose: I don’t know if I’d call myself a father he has the Drakes

Della Duck: but you want to be don’t you?

Gyro Gearloose: ...yeah

Gyro Gearloose: but i’d be a shitty parent you know that

Della Duck: actually I don’t think so

Della Duck: i’m a shitty parent and I’m doing fine

Gyro Gearloose: what a surprise

Della Duck: wow thanks for the vote of confidence

Della Duck: but Beakley Donald and Scrooge are helping me

Della Duck: we’ll help you

Della Duck: join the shitty parents club!!

Gyro Gearloose: haha all right

Della Duck: also

Della Duck: i want to hear all about fenton

Gyro Gearloose: then I want to hear all about Penumbra

Gyro Gearloose: you’re not the only one who can play the love interest card

Della Duck: joke’s on you I WANT to talk about penny

Della Duck: anyway i’m leaving now

Della Duck: see you soon!!

Gyro Gearloose: i can’t wait to see you and your ugly 10-year-old clothes

Gyro Gearloose: seriously you’re wearing almost the exact same outfit

Della Duck:  uh HELLO you have no right to shit on the way I dress look at yourself

Della Duck: you dress like a very old gay man

Della Duck: i mean that vest?? really?

Gyro Gearloose: at least i’m not old

Della Duck: touché

Della Duck: LP is driving so i’m almost there see you in a sec

Della Duck: and i’ll probably grab that magnifying glass now

Gyro Gearloose: that’s fine

Gyro Gearloose: i missed you

Della Duck: aw you old sap

Della Duck: never thought i’d hear you say anything like that tbh you’ve gone soft

Gyro Gearloose: I realized recently that my greatest mistakes were not as black-and-white as they seemed

Gyro Gearloose: and if Boyd can forgive me for unknowingly letting Akita turn him into a weapon of mass destruction and for me ignoring him for years and belittling him throughout this trip

Gyro Gearloose: and if I can face both brainwashed 2BO and Akita and win with the “power of love” or whatever than maybe I can talk to you

Della Duck: damn

Della Duck: I have SO many questions about Tokyolk

Della Duck: but i can hold onto them for a minute

The lab doors dinged open, but Della was sprinting out of them before they were fully open. The rest of Team Science watched warily as Della rushed towards Gyro, beaming and laughing, joy seeming to spill out of her. They expected him to hide, or push her away. but to their happy surprise, Gyro met her halfway and wrapped her in a hug.

Or, Della nearly crashed into him and squeezed him so tight he couldn’t breathe, prompting some annoyance, but it was crushed under the sheer joy and emotions of seeing his estranged best friend after eleven years.

Gyro laughed shakily, holding back tears, until he realized Della was crying too. She got snot on his work shirt, but he didn’t care.

They held each other for quite a while, until Della finally pulled back, wiped her eyes, and socked Gyro in the shoulder. “Don’t ever leave me hanging like that again, you hear?! I will hunt you down! I’ll give you your space but I’ll hunt you down! I won’t let this happen again!”

Gyro smiled and wiped away his own tears. “Yes, ma’am. Now, coffee?”

Della beamed. “The expensive kind. You got it.”

“It’s about time,” Manny tapped grumpily in the background, with Huey, Fenton, and Lil’ Bulb adding their agreement, but Della and Gyro ignored them as they flounced out of the lab.They had eleven years of friendship and gossip to catch up on, after all.

{it’s not too late, it was

never too late}

~

woohoo this is a wild ride! i didn’t intend for it to be this long but it just got away from me. Della and Gyro having a friendship, especially before the spear of selene, is one of my favorite headcanons. I think Della would basically grab Gyro and force him to be friends with her and to hang out with her haha.

I have a hard time writing Gyro as mean as he is in canon because I’m a sensitive sweet bean who isn’t creative or socially adept enough to come up with good insults (yet, hopefully). but i’m getting better! i hope this read as somewhat in character. same with Goldie, i’ve been trying to figure out how to write her for two years now sdfghgfds. I think I got Della’s character somewhat down though!

soft Gyro is more of an interpretation (albeit supported by canon) than canon fact but I LOVE it and i’m writing four (counting this) fics based off of it so get ready for that

the title and song lyrics are from People Need a Melody by The Head and the Heart. That song is really special to me because it was my closing song for camp last year (we would sing a song special for each unit each night before bed). I didn’t plan to use this song from the start (the working title was “DR. GYRO GEARLOOSE GET OFF UR ASS AND ANSWER UR PHONE -Della”) - I was listening to it one night, nostalgic for camp, while writing this fic and I realized the lyrics fit!

(also I was on a call for colorguard while I was writing this author’s note and my instructor said “I hear a lot of typing” lol)

[worm-writes]

Hero Classes get all the fun. 

“Class, as you know, the sports festival is coming up soon,” Several groans echoed throughout  the support room, “and while this may not benefit us, we still need to participate.” Powerloader sighed as he wrote today's material harshly on the main board. Thanks to a certain student, each student had a miniboard to write on so the main board was just used for lists of material of the day now. 

UA was known for having it’s sports festival to show off all the uprising hero students and to get them internships with heroes, which is a bit annoying when it comes to the other classes as it didn't help them in any way. He looked around with a frown, the sports festival always interrupted the students' invention time as they always ended up getting requests for their hero work. But as he scanned their faces, a single look from one of his most devastating students said otherwise. He paused writing midword, put the chalk down, and walked out the room, Powerloader will deal with the chaos after it happens.

Izuku smirked from on top of his desk, following Powerloader with his eyes as he left the room, oh this’ll be so much fun now that he got his silent go ahead. He pushed the miniboard he was pretending to write on aside. Well, since Powerloader DID give him permission, albeit him leaving the room, he may as well present to the class. Dodging charpel from an explosion, Izuku made himself to the front and quickly erased Powerloaders half written material plans. In its place, he wrote, ‘How to have fun when everyone else doesn't care.’ The students who were milling about as they usually do, complaining, deeply invested in their creations, talking to each other and sharing ideas, everyone seemed a bit frustrated with the news and were dealing with it their own way. Izuku clapped loudly, gaining everyone's attention.

“Since Powerloader has bailed, I have a plan to make the sports festival just remotely interesting this year.” He grinned manically, everyone joining in as enthusiastically as they possibly can. Who said the sports festival needed to be just about hero students? Everyone thought at the same time, all on the same wavelength.

“Hey, don't forget us too!” Hitoshi peeked in and winked at Izuku, the rest of the door opened to reveal a large group of kids form both from general studies and management. The three classes were always benefiting from each other's business, whether it was information or equipment. He quirked an eyebrow at them, and crossed his arms, if they want in on the plan they need to pay. The group smiled brightly as before something was pushed up to the front. A large rectangular package was thrown at his feet by Hitoshi. Smart, Hitoshi was the one person he would most definitely deal with. A stray classmate came up and opened it, looked in a bit, then nodded at him. A large smile broke out on his face and the group sighed in relief. 

From the school, in the teachers lounge, a shiver ran across them as they all heard the Principle crackle with delight.

“Hey! Has anyone seen Mineta?” Denki called out as the class left the waiting room, no one responded to him as the roar of the stadium drowned out any other noise around them. To be honest, even if they did respond, no one really cared where the grape flirt went in the first place. Midnight stood on a tall stage and was whipping at the floor with a smile. They vaguely heard the other classes get called out and looked around to see them. 

“Are they allowed to do that?” Iida called out as the rest of the students met up with the promising heroes.The promised heroes were skeptical when they saw the rest of their student body in their own clothes, mostly leather, and not in their gym uniforms like they were. The teachers heard that Nedzu had approved of multiple things for this year's participants so they wouldn’t know either at this point when they were given a large pamphlet of approved items and it was apparent that Midnight had not read it, not that she needed to. Towards the middle of the group, Izuku smirked, the only rules were that the heroe students were not allowed to be in hero costumes, nothing said anything about the rest of the student body.

“I pledge to win.” Class 1-A and B screamed at Bakugou and his provoking speech as Midnight carried on, stumbling over her words as she explained rules. Mic joked about the speech over the announcement. No one really noticed as the other classes seemed to kick back and watch it all happen. They were all just hanging out with each other, from small groups sitting/laying on the floor, to playing tag. As Midnight called out the event, the hero students prepared to run, not noticing that they were the only one who seemed even remotely ready. Midnight whipped the floor and called out ’go’, having the heroes students shot forward into the slightly small space.

“WOAH! AND THE HERO STUDENTS ARE OFF! BUT WHAT IS THIS!? ALL THE OTHER CLASSES SEEM TO JUST BE STANDING AROUND DOING NOTHING!” Present Mic narrated, just then Todoroki sent a wave of ice through the entrance of the passage of the obstacle course. Near the center of the group, Izuku smiled up at Hitoshi, his head laying in his lap as he played with his hair. He wanted to lay there for a bit longer but, you gotta do what you gotta do. He stood up, with a sigh, calling time as he helped the smiling boy up. They bumped their hips as they walked to the front with a small group of people behind them and spread out in front of the crowd. In sync, everyone pulled out a box from their pocket and tossed it in the air.

The boxes grew, morphing with shape into 4 wheeled first bikes. Screams erupted from the crowds as groups formed around each bike and climbed onto them. Hatsume crackled loudly from besided Izuku, no one climbed onto her bike as it popped loudly, little explosions coming from its comically large exhaust pipes and it looked obviously different from the rest as it was a lot more flashy with puffier wheels. On his other side, Hitoshi gave him a crazed smile.

“May the devilman win.” He called with a wink, and as the last people climbed on the bikes, engines were revved. Then at once, everyone shot forward, Hastume in the lead as her wheels crushed up the ice left by Todoroki. One by one each dirt bike shot out of the entrance, laughter echoing all around at the speed. 

As they reached the bots, two different dirt bikes went to the front, passing some hero kids, and passed a rope between them. The kids in the back of the bike, quickly tying it to the ends, and the bikes broke apart, going to the farthest ends of the path, making the line become taught from tension. As they sped past, the bots, which were frozen due to Todoroki, shattered on impact from rope, sending the debris everywhere. Some hero kids screamed as they were quickly left behind to dodge it, especially this one blond kid that Izuku drove by.

It wasn’t easy to get plans from Nedzu but as Izuku drifted out of the way of falling robot parts, he can't be helped but be reminded of the chess match the two shared between the two. It was risky and hard, Nagamine, one of his classmates, had followed along and almost passed from stress when Izuku didn’t win. Yet, with a grin and a deal, Nedzu happily handed over plans. His crackling haunts his dreams but as Izuku swerved out the way of debris, hands gripping harder around him as his classmates screamed and laughed madly, he couldn't help but think it was worth it.

As they reached the tightropes, a different classmate of his shot up to the front. They stood boldly on their bike, the passengers holding onto tightly as they pulled out a small machine, and leaned over, showing it onto the front of the bike. A white foam shot out of it as everyone neared them, and hardened upon hitting blank air, creating a small bridge under the bike as it rose into the air and across the clearing. Everyone whooped loudly as they followed, passing most of the hero students at this point. Izuku going second to last, Hatsume right behind him as her wheels broke the substance, not letting the heroes even try to join them. 

Everyone fell in line besides each other right before they reached the landmine field. All hitting a small button on the right side of the handles. Out spung smaller cubes from the sides of the dirt bikes, people on the back catching them before throwing them out again, only for them to morph into two wheeled dirt bikes. As their classmates all hopped onto their own individual bikes, it became a one for all. Everyone swirling and bumping into each other, trying to knock people over, setting off the bombs. Others sped up, dodging the landmines and going past Todorki and Bakugou, who were fighting in the front. 

This year, not a single Hero class was going to win, and as Izuku passed the two who were now rushing more to the front, he smiled again. Happy that everyone was having fun, it was his plan after all. As he crossed a line, hearing some stray number get called, he hopped off his bike, and cheered. Watching a few of his classmates joke and play with each other. Hitoshi came in right behind him, the smile on his face was bigger than what Izuku had ever seen. He hopped down from his bike and embraced Izuku, blabbering off about the race. Izuku's cheeks started to hurt as he realized he had as big of a smile. 

Yeah, this year is going to be good.

[bartholomewmacmillan]

You'll need a boutonniere. Actress Kathryn Harrold is 66.

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