#then if you talk to cindy about it she also seems to approve of you hitting steban. good job gang you got him knocked up

[mihotose]

scale of how much steban enjoys getting hit (mention of communism grants +2 to pain threshold while aftercare only grants +1 i guess)

but as long as you dont hit him too hard uli will be very pleased ♥️

love wins

[pbandjesse]

We just got a phone call from our insurance that they may have actually approved medication. So that's exciting. Could have come yesterday when it would have been helpful because now I have to have a virtual visit tomorrow. But at least there's progress. And I'll have my visit tomorrow and we'll figure everything out and go over the accident blood work I'm assuming too.

Today was very stressful and honestly I want to put it out of my mind. I didn't sleep great last night but that's okay. It wasn't horrible sleep it just wasn't great. I woke up and didn't feel 100% but I was looking forward to doing needles with the kids and teaching them to sell. James drove me to work and I liked my outfit a lot. I was feeling pretty good.

I got a little frustrated when we got to the McDonald's because James wasn't pulling up and they were like I'm trying not to block the driveway and I'm like you are letting more than a car length in front of you someone's going to pull in front of you and then they didn't speak up and order the thing that we normally order so it was $3 more expensive for no reason. And so I was just a little upset. But it's fine. James would drop me off and go home to wrap presents and I went to go set things up.

I found that they had mostly already gotten the garment left setup and so I went and thread a couple more needles and it's all good. I was a little annoyed that some of them were tangled but it didn't actually matter. I went back to the break room and chatted with everyone. And had my breakfast and things were good.

Then the other school was very early, and my school ended up being late. And that was only a problem because we had a ton of overlapping tours today thought we had to figure out. It didn't affect me but I was aware of it.

I hope to get some kids off the bus and then waited for my group to come. And when they did they were much taller than I was expecting for 8th graders. And the kids on the individual basis were great. The kids does a group or a nightmare. The teacher that was the lead seem to have no control over anybody at all. And at first everything seemed fine. We had some trouble getting them grouped but it was okay. And I went with Jack back to the garment loft to get started.

And while they were a little chatty they were really nice. A lot of yes ma'am Thank you ma'am. And Jack's intro was great and I had a really nice time helping themselves. And it was a lot less of them than we expected so we were able to actually have them do both jobs and everyone seemed to really enjoy that. We made lots of pockets and we did lots of sewing and it was great.

We had lunch next and I chilled for a little while in the back. Talked to Cindy about selling. Got to show off my tote bag that I'm very proud of. Also told Jack about the national guard and how my workshop I guess small business is going really well and he was just very proud of me and that felt really good. I really admire him so it was nice that he was proud and excited for me.

The second program was our biggest issue. That class not only had no self-control, their teacher was so checked out. It was so bad that there ended up being two teachers and I didn't even know one of them was a teacher. Because the other one just left. when we went to get them from lunch we start taking the group out and the teacher asks us to pause. And she starts asking if anybody wants to order pizza when they get back to the school. And to raise their hand. And if they need to cash app her to come up there. And we're just like what. We should already be in the program What is happening. And so we thought she was done after asking and counting them off but no she wanted to actually get them to give her money in this moment. They had a 40-minute lunch break where they could have done this. Because they did not eat lunch. They had a couple snacks but that was it. Also they gave all of them sunflower seeds. In a museum. Insanity.

So we were standing there for like 5 minutes. She was acting very rude to John. Who was just trying to get the program started with some semblance of being on time. I text Jessica because I don't know what to do and no one's listening. And finally we get them back to the classroom and then everyone is talking and that teacher just leaves. No one is listening. I had to stop what I was doing and walk to the back of the room to these three boys who were just being so disrespectful and ask them to please stop talking and they tell me I'm doing too much. Okay. So rude for no reason. I was just horrified on John's behalf because they were being so rude to him.

And then when we finally got to the actual program only like half of them actually participated. And then by the end of course then they wanted to make the project and we had to tell them no because they had to sit down. Most of them still got to do it and like I said on an individual basis they were very sweet. But that teacher was just so out of pocket. Just no control over those kids and also just seemed completely checked out and did not care. It was an embarrassment.

I was so glad to be done with them. So glad though that I did not notice that no one went with them when we took them to the front of the museum at the end of the day to leave. Oops. I stayed behind to clean up and John went to go get a broom so I thought he had gone with them it was a whole thing. Doesn't matter in the long run. Jessica understood that we just wanted to get them out of there.

Me and John just kind of decompressed in the garment loft for a while. I worked on cleaning up and fixing some felt and putting things away in a logical order. James was in the museum working on a couple things and so they came and joined us and we all just talked and bitched and it was great. Made me feel a lot better.

I mostly just cut the felt shapes out and tried to clean them up and then around 1:30 it was time to go. We chatted with Jessica at the front for a few minutes about insurance stuff and my quilting in the garment loft and then me and James left. We have things to do.

We drove out to Glen Burnie to go to value village. We donated a bag of clothes and got a coupon. And then we did some shopping. It was a little frustrating because we couldn't get a cart because there was too busy. And that was a little frustrating but we found some really great stuff. some Christmas presents some stuff for the house that will make things a little neater. Felt really good. I also got a really expensive quilting block for like $3. And that was really exciting. My most exciting purchase though was another code. I don't need a coat. But this one has roses for buttons and it's so good. So I'm excited about that. And it was only $6.

Next we went to Target. And we got a few more presents there. And we just got a couple things that we needed. Eggs and flour and sugar. And I was getting a little too overheated and upset because I was too hot. So I was very glad to get out of there.

When we did leave we decided that we would go over to five guys for dinner. Or I guess a late lunch. And it was really nice just sitting and eating quietly. I was really excited to go home though I was getting very very tired.

When we did finally get home we brought everything inside and put stuff away and took tags off of things. We pulled out some more wrapping stuff from the holiday closet. And I'll work on those things tomorrow. And it was just really nice. We both rested for a bit and then we got to work on some cookies. James wanted to make the jam cookies a little fancier and that was fun. We use a couple jars of our jam and that was really good. We both ate a few of them already in the sugar cookie part is excellent. Probably one of the better recipes we found. And the jams are really good and interesting and I'm really enjoying it. I'm liking trying all of the flavors I've never tried before.

And we just spent the last hour or so working on our video game. We don't have all of the endings but we've pretty much figured out how to get everything. It is sad seeing the one girl die every single time. I'm just like I want to save my girlfriend every single time. But there is no way to really save her.

I did just find out that the people who made this game just announced that they're coming up with a new thing. Which I think is very funny because we just started playing. It's like we spoke it into existence.

Now we are both ready to get showers and get some sleep. I have my virtual doctor's appointment tomorrow and James has work. We were going to go to the pootop party but we're both assuming that James is going to be a little bit to beat up. Which is okay. I only really wanted to go if James wanted to go. So I hope it's just a nice day.

I'm also going to spend some of it making sure that our home is prepared for this apparent really bad storm coming in. Want to make sure that everything is cleaned and settled and ready just in case. We're going to try to leave early Friday morning so that we don't get stuck in anything. I might even insist on bringing sweetp with us. We will see.

I hope you all have a great night tonight. Take care of each other. Be safe. Goodnight!!

[blackfemmecharacterdependency]

We’re Not Friends 08

For Three Months

Yolanda didn’t defend herself. She didn’t argue. She didn’t report the harassment. She simply tried to mind her own business, not say anything to anyone and ignore all of the hateful things said to and about her. The kids that were making it hard for her were untouchable. With everything that she had witnessed Henry and Cindy do over the years - she couldn’t recall a single, solitary time that she saw either of them ever actually get in trouble… or even addressed, most of the time.

She knew not to challenge them when she was in good, and she definitely knew not to do it now, as this pariah. The last day of her life had begun perfectly, and then came this purgatory.

What had she done so bad in her life that she was now trapped in this? Taking the photos? Sending them? There were women who made entire careers this way. Was she really so bad for making a stupid choice for a boy she loved? Is this what God had given her for that?

It would have even been less tormenting if Henry didn’t insist on reminding her of her mistake. She sent those to him. Why did he get to be able to terrorize her? Him, of all people. She couldn’t imagine doing something so ugly to her worst enemy. Well, at this point, that wasn’t true. Each day that she prayed for peace and still only received persecution, she grew more tired. She might do anything to keep Henry and Cindy away from her.

When it happened, she was understandably mortified. She looked at Henry, feeling betrayed and alone, hoping that something would be revealed. Did he actually DO this? But, he offered no support, no comfort and no mercy. It wasn’t like SHE sent them to everyone! Yolanda had days where her faith wavered. On those days, this didn’t seem a proper penance for something that she knew other girls did. They just didn’t get caught. They just didn’t get exposed.

There was no doubt in her mind that Cindy had never done this very thing herself. Normally, she would try not to be judgy, but as far as she was concerned, Cindy Burman had no soul.

They budded heads in Student Council, but Yolanda had presumed at the time that it was in the same vein as challengers who went up against William Zarick for elections. Nobody in Blue Valley ever expected anyone else to win, but those who ran opposed him in ways, but definitely were cordial after their loss and did what they could to keep Blue Valley great. Cindy obviously took competition more seriously.

First, she’d been really ugly to her about Henry. The girls were together for a student council event. Yolanda remembered the fact that they were together, because it was a weird group. Herself, Cindy, Beth and Jenny… and Jenny wasn’t IN Student Council… she was just AT the event, while Cindy WAS in Student Council, but she was doing none of the work that they had to do. Beth was doing most of it and talking to herself so much that she kept having to smile directly at you and say your name to let you know when she was talking to you, instead.

Henry had passed by and flirted with Yolanda, made some promise to connect with her later when she wasn’t busy making the world better and she was SWOONING. It wasn’t like she thought that she couldn’t get a guy like Henry, or anything. She was a golden girl. She could get whatever boy, because she was smart, pretty and popular. She also had that Good Girl angle that boys were obsessed with sometimes. Everyone knew that she had never had a real boyfriend before. Her parents didn’t let her do stuff with boys until high school, and it was always something that they approved of.

So, whenever Henry King showed interest, she automatically forgot about every random other boy who wanted her time and attention and that enviable position of “first.”

“Oh, you like Henry?” Jenny asked and looked towards Cindy, with a worried expression.

Cindy laughed and waved it off, “Henry flirts with everyone. Don’t let him fool you, we were hanging out last night.”

Yolanda was worried for only a moment, when Beth observed, accidentally on her part, of course, “And he didn’t even speak to you just now. That wasn’t very respectful of him.”

Cindy glared and Beth bit her lip, only realizing then how it had sounded.

“Well, Henry can hang out with whoever he wants. It’s not like we’re official yet or anything,” Yolanda said with a shrug, hoping that Cindy wasn’t trying to imply that their hanging out was something else, but accepting that even if it was, other kids did other things and unless Henry and her were official, it wasn’t like she could stop him.

Cindy’s laugh was condescending now, “I don’t think you understand, Church Girl,” (Jenny snickered), “I like Henry. Do you feel like you’re competition for me?” She asked it like it was a serious question.

“I don’t know if it's a competition. He didn’t even speak,” Beth reminded them.

Yolanda smiled brightly and spoke over Beth, “I’m not going to compete for the attention of a boy. If he likes you and you two date, I’m happy for you. If not, then he’s free.” She smiled over at Henry and he waved at her before taking off. He didn’t even look in Cindy’s direction. Yolanda thought back to that day.

She looked over at Beth at the lunch table. She was looking at Rick. Rick was looking at his hands, cleaning his fingernails with a knife… Why did Rick have a knife just out in the open like that? Beth looked up, scared at something and Yolanda could only guess that it was Henry. She sank lower into her seat, but instead, Cindy’s voice called, in passing, “Yeah, you should be bowing in my presence, Slut.”

Rick looked up at Cindy, then at Yolanda. Beth sank in her seat now. He leaned forward and asked Beth, “Has this happened before?”

Beth nodded, sadly. “I tried to talk to Principal Bowen and…”

“What? You tried to talk to Principal Bowen?” Yolanda asked.

“Henry was being really mean…”

“That’s not your place, Beth!” Yolanda looked like she might cry.

“I only did it once. She didn’t do... anything. She told me that I misunderstood.”

Rick scoffed and shook his head. “Let me guess, your family isn’t involved in “improving the school” some type of way?”

Yolanda touched the table with her finger for emphasis, “Beth, do not say another word!”

Beth put her head down in her hands, “I don’t even understand how I’m getting more backlash than the bullies harassing you.”

“When people feel weak, the attack the weaker,” Rick said.

“I’m not weak!” Beth and Yolanda said at the same time, but with different tones. Yolanda was defensive. She didn’t feel like she was attacking Beth at all, but reminding her to stay out of things. Beth was matter of factly. She wasn’t a weak person, at all. She was very strong and simply didn’t know how to handle this delicate situation that was someone else’s. After a moment, it occurred to her that Rick wasn’t trying to insult her, but Yolanda had already began gathering her things and left.

“I actually wasn’t involved. I spoke with the principal, she shrugged it off and I haven’t said anything else.”

“People don’t like uninvited guests seeing their dirty laundry,” Rick said.

“I’m not the person responsible for that. It was waved in front of me. I try to ignore it every time.”

“That’s what she wants, so…” He shrugged his shoulders. “Trying to help people when they didn’t ask doesn’t always make them feel better.” She thought about the time that she gave him a little gift for a thank you gesture and he reacted super ungratefully about it. Maybe this was why. Maybe Rick was the type to operate in anger whenever he had something else going on. She heard about people who do that, but she had never really met anybody like that, not that she could remember, anyway.

“So we shouldn’t go check on her?”

“I’m not, and she made it pretty clear about you, specifically.”

“People are often really done with me, specifically. My dad says it's hard for your basic person to maintain in the presence of greatness…” Rick rolled his eyes, collected his things and left. She wanted to say, “Bye, Basic,” but that would be mean and he’d probably react quite angrily. Phooey to those two.

.

Yolanda kept her head down. Beth and Rick both fortunately didn’t engage with her at all and whenever Rick was around, Henry didn’t usually bother her. Rick was a wild card. Some part of her thought that maybe Henry might be worried that a kid with nothing to lose might not hesitate to take something away from him, like his well being. Not that she thought Rick would defend her, but if he was able to take out his rage against the world on somebody else, a bully might be easy pickings. Henry wasn’t a complete idiot. He rarely picked on somebody his own size and maybe he wasn’t necessarily picking on Rick, but Henry wasn’t going to be that guy too close to a loaded canon like Rick Harris.

One time, Rick and Henry bumped into each other in the hallway and Rick looked Henry up and down like he was going to hit him, then he looked at her, Henry held her close to himself and Rick stepped around him and went on. She remembered laughing a little and teasing, “Were you scared?”

Henry, of course denied it, but he still looked a little shaken by Rick’s energy. “No! I thought he would start some shit and I didn’t want you in the middle of anything.”

“Well, he moved on like a gentleman when he noticed me,” Yolanda said.

“He’s a menace,” Henry said, with the wave of his hand.

“I’ve never actually really seen him do anything.”

“You don’t remember that fight he had with Big Pete?” Henry asked. She not only didn’t know of, see, or had ever heard of any fight with Big Pete, but she didn’t even know who the heck Big Pete was. People all remembered that alleged fight differently and to her (somebody said Rick broke his nose, someone said his fingers, some said both. Some people said with his bear hands, some said with a tire iron). “Where did Rick get the tire iron from?” She wondered. They’d shrug. It sounded like an urban legend.

Rick Harris was definitely a delinquent. Yolanda wasn’t discounting the things that she knew he was capable of. He sold alcohol and vandalized things, but she had never seen him in a fight before and she had known of him since they were 12, so she didn’t really see him as some dangerous threat so much as someone that you might get in trouble being around. What if he had drugs on him? You could be considered an accessory. Under any other circumstances, she would not have felt like she should ever be around him, but at the table, it wasn’t just fine, it was better.

It was stupid, she thought, but she honestly felt a little bit safer whenever he was at the table, just because it seemed like Henry wasn’t going to bother her in those times. She kept her head down. She didn’t even see when Henry was passing by the table, but pivoted the moment that Rick glared at him. Beth saw it, but Yolanda didn’t. Beth noticed things. She noticed others. She noticed Rick. She saw his fists clench and his jaw tense when Henry passed by. She saw him seemingly exhale when Henry kept going. She saw him glance up at her and relax a little more before looking back at his food. She wished that made her smile. At some point, it would have, but all it did these days was remind her that for no good reason, Rick decided that she wasn’t worth being friends with. They got along fine, liked a couple of the same things and sat together everyday. But, he just didn’t want to interact with her. That was a little bit maddening. In fact, she collected her things and got up from the table to get to the library. Rick furrowed his eyebrows and watched her leave. She seemed like something was wrong, but he couldn’t go check. Not only was that not okay, but King was looking over at Yolanda like a creep and Rick didn’t want to leave her by herself.

He made it out in time enough to see her leave the library and head to biochemistry. She was with Joey Zarick. They must’ve ran into each other in the library. The two were laughing together and she seemed genuinely happy around him. Not that fake smile and forced enthusiasm that she usually gave to Rick. They passed by Cameron, and both stopped to talk to him. “Cameron! Maybe you can settle this debate…” he heard Beth say. He and Cameron noticed each other and Cameron said something to Beth, which made her and Joey turn and look at Rick. He glared in response and Beth turned back to the other two boys, “There’s no telling,” he heard her say, and the three resumed their conversation.

There’s no telling? There’s no telling, what ? Rick had the mind to go place his forehead smack dab on top of Cameron’s and push forward and ask him if he had something to say. Was he over there saying something to Beth about him? In front of Joey, too? Rick clenched his fists. If he didn’t start a fight with Henry, he wouldn’t start one with Cameron. But it made him irritated - the thought of Beth talking or hearing something about him, Joey too for that matter. He turned around and noticed that Joey and Cameron were going in one direction and Beth in another, waving to them. It was too late, and maybe that was best.

.

Quiet. That’s how it was at lunch. That was uncomfortable for Beth, more than the others. She could talk to the teacher in every class. She could talk to others in the hallway. She could talk to herself in the meantime. But, when she got to the singles table, talking felt inappropriate, and she didn’t know what might set these two off on any given day. It was stifling. That was why she tried to have lunch dates on call with her parents as much as possible… which was not many times. Some weeks, it didn’t happen at all. It impacted her in a way that she didn’t like.

She had to tell herself every day that it was only an hour out of her day and only for the fraction of time that it would take to finish high school. The real world was not like this. College wasn’t like this. The corporate world wasn’t like this. If they were, she hoped only at lunch time. She laughed to herself and Rick glanced over. Yolanda didn’t even blink. She was much better at ignoring things than Rick. He had to purposefully ignore things, while Yolanda really was in her own little world all the time, even whenever one of her bullies tried to jolt her out of it with ugly words and laughter.

For three months, there was that hour of time where they were forced to sit together, chose silence, and didn’t stray that far from it, aside from Beth on her laptop sometimes. Three whole months. Monday - Friday. An hour each of those days…

Beth had gotten content enough. Lunch time was meant for eating, and she always had something to eat. She was able to talk to other kids at other times, sometimes, and even though most of them didn’t listen to her, she had teachers she adored and could call her parents at any time that they weren’t busy. She really didn’t need anything else. Lunch was only one hour a day with two people who wanted nothing to do with her. She was resilient. This would be fine.

She didn’t know it then, but it was only for about three months.

[lyssismagical]

Maybe 28 and 57 for the prompt writing? That would be really cute 💖

28 - “No, like…. It’s just, I can’t believe you’re actually wearing my clothes.”

57 - “Who changed the thermostat settings? I’m freezing to death.” 

Idk how it happened but nearly 4k words of Cheerleading Captain!Peter x Quarterback!Harley for your consideration

 *

Joining a new school in junior year wasn’t easy. Moving from Tennessee to New York was even harder.

But if there was one thing Harley had on his side, he was a fantastic football player. And everyone knew football players were top of the social pyramid.

“Quarterback? Really?” One of the boys say when he says it to the coach. “You think the new kid will get the position?”

Harley shrugs. “I played in Tennessee. I won every game.”

The coach lifts an eyebrow and then nods in approval. “Ever since the schoolboard started talking about implementing athletics at a STEM school, we’ve been pretty emptyhanded. Not enough students willing to drop robotics to join a team, not enough good students. We won one game last year out of a total of nearly fifteen.”

With a smug grin, he rolls his shoulders and slips his helmet over his head.

He gets Quarterback with ease.

As he’s leaving the field after tryouts, he notices a group of girls and a boy congregating by the bleachers, all dressed in blue and gold.

“You’re new here,” a girl says, appearing beside him. He recognizes her, having been sitting in the bleachers alone during tryouts. She’s not wearing a football uniform or the ones the group across from them is wearing.

“Harley Keener,” he replies. “You’re Michelle, right? You’re in my chemistry class.”

She offers half a smile. “MJ. I heard you landed Quarterback.”

“Not that it was particularly hard, there’s not much competition.”

Looping their arms together, she leads him a few more feet away from the group. “They’re the cheerleaders in case you didn’t know. Cindy, the one with the pink water bottle, she’s co-captain. And Peter Parker is captain, he’s been captain since freshman year.”  

“He’s captain?”

MJ’s smile turns knowing. “Yeah, he’s captain. Too bad you missed him in freshman year. The school didn’t have the budget for two sets of cheerleader uniforms, so Peter had to wear the short skirt the whole first year. I had to teach him how to shave his legs. Now he gets to wear pants.”

Harley turns, pretends not to look, but still says, “The pants are nice.”

“I know what that’s code for,” MJ laughs.

Indignant, Harley huffs, “I’m not a creep, his pants are just really tight.”

“Well, he is both single and bisexual, so if you’re courageous enough, I’d say to shoot your shot, Keener.”

Before Harley has the time to reply, MJ’s already walking off towards the school, without even a glance over her shoulder.

Harley’s not courageous enough to ask Peter out. All he does is wave from a distance, reveling in Peter’s little smile in return before making his way to the locker rooms.

* The first game of the season they nearly lose thanks to Harley’s constant staring at Peter on the sidelines.

The next two games, he focuses so intently on winning for Peter that they totally annihilate the other teams.

At the end of their third game, a home game, Harley’s on his way to the showers, grinning at his teammates when Peter catches up to them.

“Congratulations on your win,” he says.

Harley’s stunned into silence. It’s the first time he’s really seen Peter up close. They only share one class together, Spanish, and they sit on opposite ends, with Harley only able to see the back of his head.

But Peter’s gorgeous.

His brown curls are messy from the last few hours of cheering on the sidelines and the halftime show, some of it still sticking to his forehead. His pale skin is practically glowing in the lights of the field, bambi-brown eyes sparkling and wide, and chest still heaving from the exertion of their last, over-the-top performance. His arms are practically straining in the tight t-shirt he’s wearing, the gold accents making his eyes look a little more honey, smile wide on his face.

“I, uh-” Harley chokes out, cursing himself for acting dumb. “Thank you. You guys were pretty incredible.”

“Thanks.” A soft blush rises on his cheeks, makes him look down, smile turning shy. “Good luck on your next game. The Brooklyn Team’s the best in state.”

Harley can’t help the frown. “You won’t be there?”

“I’ve got Academic Decathlon competition in DC that weekend. But good luck anyways.”

“You too…” Harley feels like his chest is constricting over the knowledge that Peter’s smart too. “I, uh, I guess I’ll see you around?”

Peter smiles sweetly and leans up to press a kiss to his cheek. “Yeah, I’ll see you around.”

* Over the next few weeks of short conversations after games or practices, Harley finds himself watching Peter all the time.

Peter wears his cheerleading uniform all day everyday like the others do, head held high and students parting for him like he’s royalty. He’s friends with pretty much everyone, sending smiles and having short conversations as he goes down the hallway to class.

He’s also unbelievably kind, stopping teasing at every chance he gets, using his popularity to keep people in line, being nice to even the nerdiest looking freshmen.

Harley finds himself falling hard the longer he knows Peter.

Watching the way he moves with grace and confidence in such contrast to the way he blushes and smiles shyly whenever he’s complimented. It makes Harley’s heart clench with this crush that feels like it’s developing way too fast for his own comfort.

* “Could I talk to you?” Peter asks him after practice.

Harley’s still sweaty, still uncomfortably warm in his pads and uniform, helmet dangling from his fingertips leaving his hair messy and ruffled. But he offers a smile. “Yeah, everything okay?”

The cheerleader looks uncomfortable, turning his gaze to the grass, chewing on his bottom lip.

“Hey,” Harley says, voice dropping low and quiet as he pulls them farther away from their teams, trying his best to keep his thoughts away from Peter’s bicep flexing wondrously beneath his fingers. “You can talk to me, whatever it is.”

“It’s just embarrassing…” Peter looks up at Harley through his eyelashes. “My grades have dropped in a few of my classes, and I know we only share Spanish, but I kinda got MJ to snoop and it turns out you have one of the highest GPA’s in school.”

Harley frowns because that can’t possibly be right. “From what I’ve seen in Spanish class, you seem really smart.”

“Well, I don’t want to sound overly confident, but I am smart. I’ve just had a bad habit of slacking off when it comes to homework. So my grades aren’t looking too hot and my aunt threatened to make drop out of cheerleading if I didn’t get it in order.”

Offering a reassuring smile, Harley nods. “Not really tutoring, but I can sit with you in the library and help you work through the homework? More like study date- sessions. Study sessions.”

Peter positively lights up in a grin. “Wow, really? Thank you! I’ve got cheerleading practice three nights a week and Academic Decathlon every other night, so I’m not really free, but if you’re willing to hang out after your football practices…”

“Yeah, of course, sounds perfect. We’ll start Wednesday?”

“Yes! Thank you! I promise I’ll be a good study partner. I’ll see you around, Harley!”

And with that, Peter skips off to catch up with his cheerleader friends.

Harley can only shake his head in wonder and head off to the lockers.

* Wednesday comes quickly, and Harley’s glad because with how much time he spends daydreaming about Peter, he’s not sure he can keep up his grades either.

But soon enough, he’s waiting outside the locker rooms for Peter, hoping that the shower was enough to wash away the sweat from the tough practice.

“Hey!” Peter says, bubbly and smiling brightly. “I know we said we’d study at the library, but I’m getting a little bit sick of being inside all day. Do you want to work out on the bleachers?”

Harley nods, swallowing thickly and trying his best to keep his eyes strictly on Peter face and not watch his arms or his neck or his legs. “Sounds good.”

They head out into the setting sun, playfully nudging shoulders and nearly racing each other to get to the bleachers first, which ends in Peter laughing and shouting when he makes it their first.

“So, I heard from MJ this morning that you were being unbelievably humble when you said you were smart. She said you have a genius IQ. And you needed study help, why?”

“I told you,” Peter says, laughing. “I haven’t done homework in nearly three years. My grades are solely based on test scores and participation which would be fine if the take-home projects weren’t weighted so heavily.”

Harley rolls his eyes but takes out his Chemistry textbook anyways. “Alright, let’s get you caught up then. You’ve got nearly two months of homework to catch up on.”

“Let’s do this then.”

It turns out, Harley loves watching Peter work. He really is a genius, easily getting the work done like it’s second nature to him, able to answer mathematical equations without a calculator or a second thought, speed reading his way through chapters in the textbook. And it definitely helps that he looks absolutely stunning in the light of the setting sun and the gentle wind.

Eventually, though, they can’t stay much longer with the fading, and curfew closing in.

“Thanks for your help today… Same time Friday?” Peter asks, eyes all wide and hopeful, smile sweet.

“Actually, not to be presumptuous, but we’d have more time if we hung out for longer… Would you want to come over? Spend the night? We could work later and get more done on Saturday?”

Peter thinks about it for a moment and then he shrugs. “I don’t think my aunt would be happy with me spending the night, but you’re welcome to come to mine?”

“Sounds like a plan, Parker. You need a ride home?”

“Sure, yeah, thanks.”

Harley helps pack up their things and then takes Peter’s bag before leading him out to his truck. He opens the door for Peter, memorizing the dazzling smile he gives in return.

They only have half an hour together on the drive home, but it’s enough time for them to share more personal information.

Harley tells Peter about his sister and his mom, about Tennessee and how different life was there, how much he loves New York in comparison. He talks about getting quarterback, winning games, being on top of the social hierarchy for the first time in his life.

Peter, in turn, mentions quietly how he was bullied in the ninth grade before and when he first joined the cheerleaders. How at first, people told him it was girls team, that it wasn’t meant for him. But then they won their first trophy which snowballed into him becoming captain and leading them to win nationals and get them fifth in worlds. And then, very quickly, he became the most popular kid in school.

By the time they reach Peter’s apartment, Harley feels like they’ve grown closer and he doesn’t want to say goodbye to him.

“Today was really nice,” Peter murmurs, leaning across to kiss Harley on the cheek. “Thanks for helping me out. I’ll see you at school tomorrow and then Friday night?”

The words are on the tip of his tongue, wanting to ask Peter out, change Friday Night into a Date Night instead of a Study Session.

But then Peter’s hopping out of his truck, bag slung over his shoulder and gold accents of his uniform glimmering in the streetlights. And Harley misses his chance.

* Peter’s quiet the whole way to his apartment, bag sitting in his lap.

He looks almost out of place in the outside world while still in his Midtown Cheerleading Uniform. But Harley’s still in his jersey, so it’s not so strange in comparison.

Peter leads him into his cozy apartment, empty apart from them, and they make themselves at home in the living room around the coffee table.

“Everything okay?” Harley asks, almost startling himself with his own voice. He was planning on leaving it alone, he’s not really Peter’s friend.

“Yeah, I just kind of have a lot riding on this.” Peter’s quiet for a second, fiddling with his nails before he explains, “I can’t afford to go to a school like Midtown, but I got awarded a full ride. If I don’t get my grades up, I might be put on academic probation, have my scholarship taken away… I’d have to switch schools for my senior year, also meaning I’d probably lose the university scholarships I might’ve been offered for cheerleading.”

Harley mulls over it for a moment before shrugging. “Well, you have a very good study partner on your side. I’ll do everything in my power to make sure your grades are up by exams. Don’t start thinking of the worst-case scenarios just yet.”

The tenseness leaves Peter’s shoulders in one exhale, expression softening. “Thanks. I don’t want to put pressure on you, but-”

“That’s what I’m here for.”

Smiling, Peter opens his bag and they get to work.

Time passes quickly when they’re focused on getting things done, it’s not hard for Peter to get closer and closer to catching up, but there’s only so much they can do before boredom and hunger starts to set in.

They order pizza, Harley offering to pay but Peter insistent after Harley’s helped him so much.

“You know,” Harley says after Peter gets off the phone, “Breaks are important to keep up consistent work.”

Peter grins knowingly, flopping down onto the couch beside Harley. “Are they?”

“As an avid homework-doer and studier, I can totally say that breaks are important. So, I suggest we do pizza and a movie, and then a bit more work before bed.”

“Of course. And as someone who doesn’t do homework or study, I can’t disagree with anything you say. Here.” Peter gives him the TV remote. “Let me go get changed, I can only wear this for so long before I start craving sweatpants, and when I get back, we’ll start on a movie of your choosing.”

Harley picks out Star Wars, seemingly a safe bet considering the very obvious Star Wars poster stuck to the wall above the couch, and texts Abbie in the meantime who teases him endlessly, already having figured out his crush on Peter.

“Star Wars! It’s like you read my mind!” Peter calls out, slipping around the couch.

“I mean there’s science so it’s-” But the words are gone as soon as he sees Peter.

He looks so much different than the Cheerleading Captain Harley’s always seen him as, tucked in a pair of loose sweatpants and an even looser t-shirt, hair mussed and body relaxed. God, if Harley thought he looked incredible in his uniform, it’s nothing compared to the way he looks relaxed and content in lounge clothes.

“So it’s…” Peter prompts, forehead creasing but smiling in amusement.

“Sorry, I- You’re just- Sorry, I’ve never seen you outside your uniform before,” Harley says, voice suddenly thick. “The movie’s educational, that’s all.”

Peter giggles, sitting down beside Harley, against Harley, and presses play so the beginning credits begin to roll. “I’m going to take that as a compliment, but I don’t think Star Wars counts as educational.”

“It is a compliment!” Harley gasps, higher than he means it to come out. “I was just surprised is all… You’re- It’s just- Wow.”

He laughs again. “Wow? For someone with a nearly perfect GPA, that’s not the most articulate compliment.”

“I meant- Oh god, I’m totally embarrassing myself, aren’t I?” He runs a hand through his hair, feeling his face flush warmly. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, it’s sweet. I get a lot of compliments, but most about how my ass looks in the uniform, so I do appreciate being complimenting for being wow while in sweats.”

Harley’s eyes go wide, and he’s quick to try to redeem himself, “You’re just really pretty is all! That was worse than wow, wasn’t it? I’m just making this worse.”

“You think I’m pretty?” Peter repeats, eyes so soft and open and earnest. “That’s a new one.”

For once, Harley manages to keep his mouth shut, not wanting to say anything more, but Peter’s still blushing and smiling when he turns back to the TV, shaking his head fondly.

*

Long after pizza and their movie’s done, homework continued through until they were laughing too much to continue to think straight, Peter finally calls it a night.

Harley changes in the bathroom and purposefully leaves his jersey on the back of the couch, while Peter makes him a bed on the couch.

It would’ve been a good time, Harley knows, to ask that question, to see if this will lead in another direction, but he chickens out and ends up just with, “Goodnight, Peter.”

And Peter smiles, all warm and sweet, and he murmurs, “Night, Harley.”

And that’s that.

In the morning, Harley wakes to the smell of coffee.

He pretends he’s still asleep when he hears voices drifting in from the kitchen.

“So that’s the infamous Harley Keener,” a woman says, Harley guesses it’s Peter’s aunt.

“He’s helping me get my grades up.”

The woman laughs. “For someone with a genius IQ, I don’t know how you managed to let your grades drop like that. It’s not his fault? Or cheerleading?”

“No, May, I promise I’m working on it.”

“Good. Don’t let him get in the way of your education or focus, honey. Don’t let him hurt you, alright?”

Harley finally stretches up, making himself known as awake. He yawns, looking over the back of the couch towards the kitchen. “Morning.”

Peter lights up in a smile. “Morning, Harley. You want coffee?”

“Sure, thanks.”

He slips up just as May says she’s off to bed, still wearing her nurse scrubs, and he offers a quiet greeting to her on her way out.

And then it’s just him and Peter.

“Sleep well?” Harley asks when the silence stretches a second too long. Peter nods, passing him the mug of hot coffee. It’s a Star Wars mug and he can feel his cheeks warm.

“We don’t really have much breakfast food… You wanna maybe go out somewhere to get some?”

Harley, still sleep-warm and relaxed, jumps as the chance. “Do you want to go out? Like on a proper date? Breakfast? On me?”

“The quarterback with the cheerleading captain?” Peter says. “That’s a bit of a cliché, isn’t it?”

“I suppose. Is that a no?”

Peter seems to ponder it for a moment before he shrugs. “I kind of love clichés.”

“Breakfast then.”

Grinning, Peter nods, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. “Let me get dressed and then we’ll go.”

“Perfect.”

As soon as he’s left alone in the kitchen, he pumps his fists in the air, barely managing to stifle his excited cheer.

“I saw that!” Peter calls out.

Flushing, Harley quickly sets down his coffee, grabs his bag and heads to the bathroom to get changed quickly, wishing he’d packed something nicer than jeans and a flannel.

“I’m surprised you’re not in your uniform,” he says when he sees Peter waiting by the door.

He’s wearing a pair of tight jeans and a simple t-shirt, grinning just as bright as always.

“I only wear it at school.”

Harley shrugs. “I was starting to think it was the only thing you owned.”

Peter links their hands together and pulls open the door, smiling just as bright as ever.

* All eyes turn towards the cafeteria doors.

“Oh my god-” Betty breathes from near Harley.

He looks over his shoulder, expecting to see something vaguely newsworthy but otherwise boring, but instead finds Peter.

Peter who’s wearing his blue and gold cheerleading uniform as always, curls messy and cheeks flushed pink, except he’s wearing a jersey over his uniform.

Harley’s jersey.

“Who changed the thermostat settings? I’m freezing to death,” Peter calls out, dramatically loudly to get the rest of the student’s eyes on him.

Harley trips up to his feet, eyes wide and shocked because after one date, Peter’s already announcing it to the world.

“You left this at my place,” Peter says, walking up to him. His eyes are bright and amused like he expected Harley to get this flustered. His voice drops to nearly a whisper. “I know it’s soon but I saw you staring, saw you watching me during practices. The only reason I saw is because I was watching you too. I want to make this official.”

“Yeah, I- Yeah, I want that.”

Peter grins, kissing Harley on the mouth for the first time, they’d parted yesterday with only a kiss on the cheek. When he pulls away, he’s still smiling. “Sorry about doing this here. I couldn’t wait. Too much?”

“No, like…. It’s just, I can’t believe you’re actually wearing my clothes,” Harley chokes out. “I’m just- You look good. I didn’t expect you to like me too.”

“I do. I really do.”

Harley finally smiles back at him, grabbing Peter by the waist to kiss him again. “You want to go out with me again? Wednesday? After practice?”

“I would love to. Can I- Would it be okay for it to be as boyfriends?”

“Okay? Yes, more than okay. I would really love that.”

Peter laughs, tucking himself close to Harley’s chest. “Wow. Boyfriends.”

For the rest of the year and the following year, they’re considered Midtown’s Power Couple.

And when they make it MIT together, Peter having managed near-perfect grades with Harley’s help, they’re considered MIT’s Power Couple too.

Taglist: @littlemissagrafina  @spidey-reids-2003  @romeoandjulietyouwish @c-artara @shadedrose01 @likeaphoenix13 @pj-hermes-tonystark-obsessed  @you-get-killed-walk-it-off @kitkatwinchester  @emo-girl10 @justme--emily  @hold-our-destiny @imalivebecauseirondad @spiderman-peterman @dykeragee @maryserrao @heeeyitskay @parknerandirondad @lilacsandlilies4 @loveliestdisappointment @joyful-soul-collector @genderfluid-and-confuzled {Let me know if you wanna be added or removed}

[carewyncromwell]

Is that a Cinderella AU part I see? Yes, yes, it is! And one hopefully not as dark and devoid of hope as the last part...

Charlie’s castle carpenter tunic is based on this design; Bill’s castle guard uniform, referenced in a previous part, is based on this real uniform from 16th century France, though with a Royaumanian-worthy blue/red color scheme. My headcanon is that Charlie (who’s described as stocky in the books) is 5′5″, only two inches taller than his “unofficial twin,” Carewyn, while Bill is a friggin’ giant the tallest of the Cursebreaking squad at 6′1″ (one inch taller than Ben Copper at full height and the same height as his actor, Domhnall Gleeson!). The entire Cromwell family is on the smaller side, with Charles as the tallest at 5′10″. Oh, and yes, the Cromwells are all a piece of work, but Charles is indisputably the worst apple in the bushel. 😒

Previous part is here -- whole tag is here -- Katriona “KC” Cassiopeia belongs to @kc-needs-coffee -- and I hope you enjoy! 

x~x~x~x

Carewyn was discovered outside by her aunts Pearl and Claire and uncle Blaise and brought inside. When they interrogated her about why she had returned to the estate in the middle of the night, however, Carewyn was unable to answer them. She was unable to speak at all -- nor was she able to eat, drink, or sleep. Instead she simply settled down in a huddled ball on her old cot by the fireplace and stayed there, her arms around her knees and her eyes devoid of all light or awareness. 

Whatever had happened, Charles seemed to have determined Carewyn would be of no use to him in the palace, the way she was -- and so, at dawn, he sent a messenger to the King and Queen, telling them that she’d taken ill and would have to remain at home in the interim. 

Carewyn’s cousins at first took some vindictive pleasure out of bullying her, now that she was back under their roof. Arsen and Kain actually picked Carewyn up off the ground and pushed her around like some human-sized doll while Elmer sang a mean little song he’d written about her --

“Cindy-Cindy-Cinderwyn, the finest of her class --

The duchess of the dust and soot, her kingdom’s made of ash!

She went to court; oh, did they chortle, snicker, and guffaw --

So Cindy-Cindy-Cinderwyn ran home, crying, ‘Mama!’”

Before long, though, her lack of a reaction seemed to make it not so fun of a game. Within two days, Tristan, the youngest of Carewyn’s cousins, actually threw a tantrum because Carewyn completely ignored him splashing his paints all over her. 

“What’s wrong with you!?” the boy screamed, beside himself. “Why won’t you get mad at me?! Why won’t you run away and cry?! Why are you so -- so -- WEIRD?!”

Blaise was most perturbed when his son actually burst full-on into tears. Clenching his jaw furiously, he brought an arm around Tristan and swept him back inside and away from the vacant-eyed Carewyn. Then he went straight to the dining hall to speak to Charles.

“Father, something must be done about Winnie,” he hissed. “This is not normal.”

Pearl leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms, her eyes narrowing. “Her behavior is shameful. To think the Cromwell blood runs through the veins of that girl...”

“It’s pathetic, that’s what it is,” said Claire in sycophantic agreement. 

“Winnie may be a pathetic thing, but she is our thing,” Blaise shot back fiercely, “and she’s practically dead as she is.”

He turned to Charles. 

“We’ve already lost Lane and sent Jacob off,” he said in a quiet, cold voice. “Are we to simply let Winnie waste away?”

Charles had his hands folded in front of him on the table. At Blaise’s words, his own almond-shaped blue eyes -- identical to his children’s and nearly all of his grandchildren’s -- narrowed. 

“I must admit, it is a shame that Carewyn has stopped being useful,” he said lowly. “Iris may still be a set of eyes for us inside the palace, but she’s hardly clever enough to do much of anything on her own that’s useful.”

Claire actually looked hurt. “Father...Iris just sent us a letter this morning. Was it not useful to you?”

Charles’s eyes were very cold upon his daughter. “Hardly. She spent a good chunk of it complaining that Carewyn did something to the Prince, before leaving the palace...clearly trying to make excuses for her own failure to hold Prince Henri’s attention.”

Claire’s eyes welled up with shame and she hung her head. 

“It wouldn’t be the first time that Iris has blamed Winnie for stealing one of her suitors’ attention,” said Pearl seriously, “but we have yet to get any explanation about why she’s returned to us against your instructions. And Claire and I did hear a horse galloping away, that night. Could it have been Prince Henri?”

Blaise scoffed. “Doubtful. You think a Prince would ever favor a plain girl with no dowry or status?”

“You warned Winnie yourself that the Prince could want her as a conquest,” Pearl said darkly. “Heartbreak would more than explain her current state...”

The idea made Blaise flush with rage. 

“Whoever rode that horse, it was not the Prince,” said Charles very smoothly. He rose to his feet, picking up his dragon-headed cane and strolling over to the window to look out. “From what my informants have told me...Prince Henri was at the Royaumanian army camp that entire night.”

His children all straightened up, taken aback. 

“At the war front?” said Pearl, shocked. 

“Yes,” said Charles. “It quite upset their Majesties. Even more so when he returned to the palace in the morning dressed like a commoner and declared to them and the entire royal court that he intended to open up peace talks with the soon-to-be King of Florence.”

“Soon-to-be King?” said Blaise, his eyes narrowing to slits. “Then the old one kicked the bucket?”

“Yes...and it turns out the replacement Crown Prince is something of a populist. From what I’ve heard, his very first decision as future monarch was to ask every Florentine nobleman to -- should they wish to remain at court -- donate a portion of their wealth to him, so that he could then use it to buy a feast and custom-tailored clothing for his soldiers.”

Charles was clearly offended by the idea. Blaise was too.

“Uppity brat,” he sneered. “I guess that’s what’s you get, when you choose a bastard peasant as your future king...”

Pearl, however, looked a bit more cynical. “Seems rather unwise, to antagonize those who come closest to you in status...”

“On the contrary,” said Charles. “It’s most shrewd. As Blaise said, the boy was the King’s illegitimate son. That would offend the standards of just about anyone of good breeding...thus it would be foolish to try to court them for approval. A rat can communicate best with other rats -- and sadly, a swarm of rats is just what you get, when they gather: a band of filthy, hungry, disgusting creatures who will eat away at what we hold dear.”

His blue eyes flashed. 

“And now our Prince fancies becoming allies with such vermin.”

Claire looked uncertainly at Pearl and Blaise. Both of them looked perturbed. 

“If the War ends, there’ll be less money in the future for us,” Blaise growled. “Our investments in armaments built this estate...”

“My investments, Blaise,” Charles said in a very cool voice. “Do not forget that even the ones done in your and my son-in-laws’ names were still orchestrated by me.”

He pushed his palm down into the top of his cane, his long fingers trailing over the metallic snout of the dragon-head handle. 

“It’s far worse than that, however. The Royaumanian royal family’s financial troubles was what has lent me their ear from the beginning. Gave me access to their decision-making -- gave me some leverage in coaxing them to join our two families. Should the King and Queen become friends and allies with Florence’s new royal brat, they may get the idea to redistribute their courtiers’ wealth as he has, to alleviate the nation’s debts...meaning we not only won’t be bringing in as much money as before, but that we’ll also have to submit to parting with what we already have, just to indulge in petty charity.”

Charles’s eyes narrowed upon his reflection in the ice-trimmed window. 

“Our family’s chance at ascending into royalty...at the absolute, irreversible power owed us...is slipping away.”

Claire got up and tried to comfort her father by taking hold of his shoulder. “But Father...surely there’s still some hope? If Iris -- ”

But Charles warded Claire off with the back of his hand, sweeping across the room. 

“If your daughter thinks that a mere maidservant was able to captivate the Prince more than her, then perhaps it’s the maidservant who I should enlist in getting our family what we deserve.”

He shot a look over his shoulder at Pearl. “Fetch Carewyn and bring her to me.”

Pearl dragged Carewyn up to the dining hall by her arm. The ginger-haired Cromwell hadn’t changed clothes or washed since she’d returned home, so her face was covered in cinders and her forest green and white dress was still splashed with the paints Tristan had thrown on her. 

At the start, Charles feigned concern, saying he hated seeing his granddaughter looking so ill and unhappy, but his words barely penetrated Carewyn’s mind. They were just more lies -- just like everything else out of his mouth. She should know...being a liar herself. So she didn’t say a word in response. She made no response at all. And soon enough, Charles did come around to what he really wanted. 

“His Highness is set to make a fatal error...but you have his ear. We need you to return to your duties in the palace and ensure that he does not trust the Prince called Cosimo.”

Carewyn’s lightless, empty eyes ran over her grandfather’s face for a long moment...but she did not answer. 

“This is a noble duty, child,” said Charles. Although he put on a smile, it did not touch his eyes. “This is your chance to protect both your family and your country. The Florentines have been our enemies since before your mother was born...and now they seek to feign honor long enough to lure our Prince into their jaws...”

He brought a hand down onto Carewyn’s shoulder. 

“Jacob would be proud, knowing you were helping him in his fight against them.”

Carewyn stared at Charles. Her almond-shaped blue eyes were as dark and turbulent as two miniature hurricanes. And yet, she did not speak.

Charles tilted his head, raising his eyebrows and considering her expression with that cold, detached smile. “Come now, my dear...will you not speak to your grandfather? I do so hate to see you like this.”

Carewyn’s gaze drifted away as Charles’s eyes bore into her -- and yet the silence dragged on with neither breaking it.

Pearl, Claire, and Blaise, for their parts, were becoming all the more unsettled by Carewyn’s lack of a response. Blaise actually strode forward and shouted at her.

“You will speak when spoken to, you ungrateful little -- !”

He made as if to strike Carewyn, but Pearl grabbed his forearm and held it back, flashing him a warning look before turning her righteous anger onto Carewyn. 

“Your grandfather requires your services, Winnie,” Pearl said very sharply. “Don’t you have something to say to him?”

Even with this, however, Carewyn didn’t say anything. Then, with as much energy and emotion as a ghost, she stepped back and out of Charles’s grip and turned to go. 

Something flickered in Charles’s expression. 

“I did not give you permission to leave,” he said very softly. 

But Carewyn didn’t answer or turn around. Claire had to block the doorframe to keep her from leaving the room. 

“Your grandfather said you’re not allowed to go,” Claire said, her voice trying to be sharp but instead sounding rather unsettled. 

Carewyn stared at Claire with those hollow, empty eyes in silence as Charles approached her from behind. 

“You will do your duty to this family, child,” he said. It was striking how much scarier his voice sounded, when it was quieter -- Charles Cromwell was the sort of man who didn’t need to shout in order to be intimidating. “After all...that is the pact we made when I took you and your brother in, is it not?”

He took hold of Carewyn’s shoulder, whispering in her ear.

“Do not forget that everything you have is because of my charity. I have no desire to punish you...but I shall withdraw my kindnesses, if I must.”

Carewyn was very still. Then she once again broke out of Charles’s grip and tried to move past Claire. 

Before she could get far, however, Charles snatched her up by the hair. With a strangled cry of pain, Carewyn was thrown to the ground with astonishing force, Charles’s fist clenched fast around her hair. 

“Your head is not the only thing in my hands, Carewyn,” he reminded her very coldly. “I hope you remember that.”

He wrenched her up onto her feet by her hair, and Carewyn had to clench her teeth to keep herself from crying out again. 

“I have been very patient with your theatrics...but I grow weary of coddling you. Should I send some message to Jacob, so that you behave? Perhaps if your head is not one you will defend, perhaps his is...”

“Liar.”

The word escaped Carewyn’s mouth as a wispy, hollow rasp, and yet it was enough to make everyone in the room stiffen. Somewhere out in the hall, one might’ve caught a quickly stifled intake of breath. 

Carewyn’s eyes, although so dark, seemed to have gained an odd gleam in the back of them, like flaming cinders in a dying fire, as she stared up at Charles. 

“You’re a liar,” she said again, her broken voice as rough as sandpaper in her throat as it rose in volume. “I know your life isn’t bound to Jacob’s. Any spell you could’ve had cast on him would have broken at midnight, the very night you sent him away -- the very night you ripped him away from me and sent him off to War against his will!”

Her blue eyes flared with hatred. 

“That’s why you’ve never once gotten word from him -- because there’s no word you could receive from him at all! Admit it!”

There was a horrible silence. Pearl, Blaise, and Claire all looked from Carewyn to Charles and back. 

Charles bore down upon his granddaughter, his face as cold as some ivory mask with hard, diamond-like eyes. 

“So that’s what this is about,” he said softly. “Assigning blame. Very well, Carewyn...let us discuss this. You came to me as a child, sobbing and distraught beyond words...begging me to save your brother’s life when he was already on death’s door. You had nothing to offer me at that time, nor did your brother -- and yet I, out of the goodness of my heart, agreed to take you in. All I asked was that you show proper gratitude...a term you accepted at the time, and yet now have seen fit to break.”

He yanked Carewyn up by her hair and threw her into the table with a WHAM. Carewyn cried out in pain, before crumpling to the floor in a heap. 

“I spent a good deal of my own money and discarded my own honor to try to find someone to save your brother’s life, if only to bring the light back to your eyes. Jacob was brought back to health and you were reunited with him, just as you’d hoped. And yet now you seek to demonize my wish that you show gratitude? That I collect on the debt owed me?”

He brought the heel of his shoe down on Carewyn’s shoulder with force, slamming her face down against the floor. 

“And worse,” he whispered, “you wish to demonize the fact that, all these years, I was too grief-stricken to tell you of your brother’s passing?”

Blaise, Claire, and Pearl all stiffened. Only Claire, however, looked shocked. 

“Jacob is...dead?” she whispered shakily. 

“I knew such a revelation would be crippling to a fragile, weak heart such as yours,” said Charles, his diamond-like eyes very hard upon the back of Carewyn’s head. “I knew that the knowledge that your brother died the morning after his departure, and that his body had to be burned with every other prisoner in those barracks instead of receiving a proper burial...would break your heart.”

Carewyn had started to shake. Her face had lost all of its color, and the flicker of rebellion she’d shown mere moments ago had gone out. 

“You’ve never been a stupid girl, Carewyn. You really should have figured it out years ago...and yet, like a child who believes in Yuletide gift-givers, you latched onto your brother’s memory even when all logic said you shouldn’t. I’m certain everyone else in this family saw through my pretense -- knew that it was merely something to placate you, soothe your temperamental emotions. They always have made it difficult for you to see things clearly.”

Charles's eyes narrowed. 

“You were the one who disregarded your duty to the man who put a roof over your head, clothed you and fed you. Perhaps the truth wouldn’t be so crippling if you had simply done as I wished...rather than chase after a ghost.”

Tears streamed down Carewyn’s face. Although her eyes were so hollow and she shook so badly, however, the grief inside of her was not just numbing. It had grown to such an extent that it for a moment made her lose her head completely. In a violent move, she wrenched herself off the ground with a mad scream and threw a fist right at Charles’s face. Unfortunately Carewyn had never been particularly strong -- and so Charles was able to seize her wrist, twisting it away from him and holding her back with little difficulty. 

“Blaise,” said Charles icily. “Fetch the whip.”

Blaise looked stricken. “Father -- ”

“The child requires discipline,” he said without looking at his son. “I will not have her thinking that following her brother’s example is acceptable behavior.”

Blaise closed his eyes and bowed his head. Then, with a grim look on his face, he swept from the dining hall. 

When he entered the hallway, he found all of Carewyn’s cousins (excluding Iris, who of course was still back at the palace) huddled up against the wall. They’d clearly been listening to every word...and for once, none of them looked the least bit amused. Their faces were all very pale. 

Blaise considered them all for a moment in silence. Then he brought an arm around his son and led him away. 

“Come, Tristan. You will return to your room and stay there until I come fetch you.”

Everyone at the Cromwell estate tried to block out the screams of pain that echoed out of the dining hall. After just under an hour, Charles finally stopped, whether out of physical tiredness or just having finally spent his temper, and bid Pearl and Claire to carry Carewyn up to the tower room at the back of the estate. Charles didn’t want her to leave that room again until she was prepared to behave appropriately. 

Carewyn had expected Pearl and Claire to simply throw her on the floor and leave her there. Instead, however, Pearl sent Claire to go fetch some towels and cold water, and she hoisted Carewyn up onto the worn feather cot on the far end. Her aunts then removed her torn dress so that they could clean the open gashes Charles’s whip had delivered to her back. 

As far back as Carewyn could remember, her aunts had never liked her. Her mother Lane had even told stories about her siblings and how Charles had pressured his children to compete against each other their whole lives. When Carewyn had moved in, Pearl had refused to look her in the face for over a month...and thanks to her daughters’ dislike for Carewyn, Claire had always treated her niece just as coldly. And yet, now...for some reason, they sat with her.

“...Why are you doing this?”

Carewyn couldn’t see either Pearl or Claire’s faces while she was lying on her stomach, but she heard the mattress give a light squeak, as if Claire had shifted slightly to look at Pearl. 

“Don’t you think you’ve questioned your elders more than enough already?” said Pearl in a very hard voice. 

She brought a cold cloth up to the largest gash on Carewyn’s shoulder, dabbing at it lightly. 

“You may be a stupid, arrogant, pathetic girl, Winnie,” she said quietly, “...but I know the pain of losing one’s sibling.”

Carewyn felt some pity in her heart despite herself. 

“Thank you,” she murmured. 

Pearl scoffed. “Thank me by doing as your grandfather says.”

Carewyn closed her eyes. Then she turned her head away from her aunts and didn’t reply.

Taking her silence as a refusal, Pearl withdrew quickly and hoisted herself up off the worn mattress. 

“Come, Claire.”

Claire hesitantly inched herself up off the mattress too, fetching the bucket of water from the floor as she went. Carewyn could see her glance back at her, when she reached the doorframe. 

“Your grandfather bid you stay in here until you behave,” said Claire, and her voice sounded almost reproachful. “Please don’t make him punish you further.”

But Carewyn did not make any move or sound. And so Claire closed the door behind her, and Pearl locked it with a loud CLACK behind them. 

Once Pearl and Claire descended the stairs of the tower, however, they caught the sound of raised voices from outside the open manor door. One of the voices they recognized as Blaise’s -- the other, they couldn’t have known, belonged to Charlie Weasley.

When Carewyn’s friends learned that she would not be returning to the palace, they all reacted with concern. They knew how crippling the revelation of Jacob’s death had been, but the knowledge that she was back with her family, rather than at the palace where they could help her heal, well...that only made the whole affair worse. Clearly, as KC pointed out, the King and Queen probably wouldn’t have been that lenient toward a servant who was unable to work and had no reason to suspect anything malevolent in Charles wanting to “take care” of his granddaughter. After all, Andre himself had also presumed Carewyn was well-treated by her family, before he’d been forced to conclude otherwise. 

“I’ll tell them the truth -- ” Andre had said forcefully, but Badeea only shook her head sadly.

“It won’t help, your Highness,” she murmured. 

KC nodded grimly. “Carewyn is Lord Cromwell’s ward, Andre. Her only possible legal guardian and benefactor. That means she belongs to him, whether we like it or not. No matter how badly she’s treated, or what she’s told you about him, he’ll still have that power over her. And as long as he’s a Lord with more financial capitol than our entire family does combined...the King and Queen won’t want to discipline him.”

Bill and Charlie, however, just couldn’t accept this. So after their scheduled duties, they visited the Cromwell estate themselves, requesting to see Carewyn. When Blaise tried to turn them away, the exchange got more heated.

“I’ve already told you that Winnie will not see you,” Blaise said, his blue eyes flashing at the two brothers. 

“We’d like to hear that from her, please,” said Bill, but his politeness had a noticeable edge to it. 

“She is in no condition to entertain anyone, least of all a pair of peasant boys who presume to trespass on our land and make demands. Now get out.”

“We’re not leaving until we see Carey!” Charlie said fiercely. 

“You will leave now, or I shall see to it that you are thrown out,” snarled Blaise. 

“Go ahead and try it!” said Charlie, getting right up in the blond man’s face. 

“What’s all this now?”

Charles Cromwell had emerged from the open door of the manor. Dashing out after him were Pearl and Claire. 

Blaise’s eyes flared. “A couple of troublemakers who’ve come looking for Winnie. ‘Westley,’ they call themselves -- ”

“Weasley,” corrected Bill. His eyes were narrowed as he faced Charles. “Bill and Charlie Weasley. We worked in the palace with Carewyn -- we heard she was sick and came to see her.” 

Charles glanced at Pearl and Claire out the side of his eye, before his eyes swiveled back over to the two Weasleys. 

“...I’m afraid my dear Carewyn is resting upstairs.”

“May we see her, please?” Bill said. Once again, his words were polite, but his voice was very firm and pointed. 

“No,” said Charles. “You may not.”

His eyes narrowed upon Bill’s freckled face. One could wonder what he saw in Bill that day -- whether it was the protective “big brother” affect that reminded him of his deceased grandson Jacob, the sincere devotion Bill felt for his granddaughter Carewyn, or simply the pure distrust and dislike toward him -- but whatever it was, it served to make the Lord’s face that bit more mask-like as he considered the ginger-haired castle guard.

“‘Bill Weasley,’ you said your name was? Well, Mr. Weasley...you can be rest assured that Carewyn is being quite well taken care of, here with her family, where she belongs.”

Charlie’s eyes flashed. “Somehow I doubt that.”

Charles raised his eyebrows very coolly. 

“We know all about what you did to Carey, Cromwell,” said Charlie. “We know full well how you ‘take care’ of your family...unless you think Jacob would actually speak on your behalf, if he were still alive?”

Charles, amazingly, didn’t react at all to this, but it only served to make his mask-like face that much more unsettling. 

“No one feels Jacob’s loss more than I. And I should thank you not to question that, boy.”

His eyes flickered from him to Bill. 

“I don’t know what Carewyn has told you...but I’m afraid I must apologize for it, all the same. The child has always had a difficult relationship with the truth...she’s often spun tales to...try to make herself seem more appealing, to the people around her.”

“Takes a liar to know one, I guess,” spat Charlie. 

Pearl’s eyes flared. “You have some nerve to speak to a nobleman thusly -- ”

“Pearl,” Charles soothed her, but his voice was hardly warm or comforting. Instead his eyes bore into Charlie with a darker glint. “You do yourself and your brother no favors in insulting me. I could have been kind and offered to send word, when Carewyn was well enough to see you...but I can see clearly that the both of you would be a toxic influence on my granddaughter, should I allow you to associate with her.”

“Toxic?” repeated Charlie, his voice rising. “You son of a -- !”

“Noble bloodline, unlike you,” Charles Cromwell said in a very low, foreboding voice. “One with enough money and influence to force you to comply with my wishes, if I must.”

Charlie wasn’t intimidated. “You do that, and we’ll tell the whole world about what you did. Reckon you won’t have quite so much respect from everyone, once they learn you used magic to trick Carey into staying under your thumb -- ”

“A dangerous accusation for anyone to make,” said Charles, his foreboding voice deepening further. “More still for a boy relying solely on the flawed testimony of a maidservant...and belonging to a family so impoverished by its size that they’d have no means to rebuild, in the event of some unforeseen tragedy...”

Charlie’s eyes widened dangerously. He looked like he wanted to punch Carewyn’s grandfather right in the face, but Bill took hold of his brother’s shoulders from behind, in a gesture that seemed to be both holding him back and expressing support. 

Charles’s eyes -- the same color and shape as Carewyn’s, but infinitely crueler -- flashed up at Bill.

“I can tell that you -- like me -- are the sort of man who wishes to protect his family, Bill Weasley,” Charles said coldly. “If you wish to do so...then you will ensure that neither you nor your family comes near mine again. Do I make myself clear?”

Bill and Charles glared at each other for a very long moment, silently burning brown on icy, diamond-like blue. 

“Crystal,” Bill murmured at last. 

Charlie looked up at Bill, horrified. “Bill -- ”

“Come on, Charlie,” Bill cut him off quietly. “Let’s go.”

Bill steered Charlie away and off of the Cromwell estate. Once they’d cleared the gate, Charlie whirled on his brother.

“Bill, you can’t be okay with this! If old Lord Cromwell won’t let us see Carey, then something’s gotta be wrong! We can’t just -- ”

“I know,” said Bill.

Glancing over his shoulder, he walked with Charlie a few more feet to make sure they were out of earshot. Then he said quietly, 

“Charlie...make up an excuse for the King and Queen about why their carriage is going to need more time to fix than you thought. We’re going to need it.”

[anotheronechicagobog]

Tylenol and Tequila - Part 5 - Brettsey

written by: @anotheronechicagobog

Warnings: swearing, Gabby bashing, slight Dawson bashing, slight Hallie bashing

Matt was smiling, truly smiling, and Kelly couldn’t have been happier. It had been a while since Matt was like this. When he first started dating Gabby, when he and Hallie first got engaged, and when he and Hallie had started dating. The problem was, although the relationships always started out great, things tended to start falling apart halfway through and lead to a messy, painful end. For Matt. In Hallie’s case she was tragically murdered after years off and on and off relationship, and Gabby left and divorced him when he wouldn’t do what she wanted. In both relationships there was crappy communication and only Matt was ever willing to compromise, it seemed. Kelly would not consider himself an expert in significant, long-term relationships, he would willfully admit that. But being in a relationship with Stella had taught him a lot, and he’d been around the Hermann’s for most of his adult life. And Kelly knew that the same thing could happen again, given the whole “What would you do if Gabby came back - I think you should leave” incident. And while Sylvie Brett was probably an actual angel, she did have two failed engagements and another dawson notched in her belt. So when the common room was sparse and Sylvie was leaning against the kitchen counter beside the coffee machine with a cup of said liquid staring off into space, he approached. Grabbed a cup himself. Leaned against the counter. “Sooooo... About you and Matt-”

 “Severide, I love you, but after all the relationship shit I’ve seen you do over the years, you’re the last person who can give me any kind of ‘talking to’.”

 “Hey, that’s- actually, yeah, fair enough.”

 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 Sylvie was a little surprised to see Hermann on the otherside of her peephole. “Hey, Hermann, what brings you by?”

 “Serious stuff, I’m afraid. Sit down, we need to talk.” She opened the door a little wider, letting him through. “Would you like some coffee and cookies? I just finished a batch of ginger cookies.”

 “Sure thing, but don’t think you’re gonna be softening me up with sweets.”

 “I don’t even know why you’re here, Hermann, so it’d be pretty hard to do that.”

 “Let’s just get settled, and start talking.”

 “Wow, you really mean business, don’t you? What’s this all about?”

 “You and Casey.”

 “Oh.”

 “Yeah.” Brett really didn’t want to stall, she just wanted to bite the bullet and get this conversation overwith, even though she was already having to force back tears. Hermann and Dawson had been really close, and he probably didn’t approve of her best friend starting a relationship with her ex-husband. It took all the courage she could muster to place the tray of coffee and cookies on the coffee table and sit beside him while she felt like she was going to fall apart. Hermann smiled at her softly. “Don’t worry, kid, this is just a talk.”

 “Yeah, so, uh, let’s get started, then.”

 “Well, you know that Gabby is like a daughter to me. I’ll always love her, and I was there when their relationship began, through every trial and tribulation, I watched them rise together. But I also watched them fall. I watched as Casey made sacrifice after sacrifice, and compromise after compromise, all for Gabby. And I watched as she pushed him away. How she demanded more and more, and how she abandoned him. I also knew, once Gabby got on that plane to Puerto Rico, that she wasn’t coming back. They both had their shortcomings, everyone does, but I watched as Gabby put Casey through the wringer. As much as I love her, even I have to admit that she was incredibly selfish throughout almost the entirety of their relationship. So many of the things Casey has acknowledged he regrets he did with his life are things that he did because of her. Because she pressured him and manipulated situations, and sometimes all it took was a bat of her eyelashes. And Hallie was no better. She was confident of her own goals in life, which is wonderful, but they were completely different than Casey’s and they both refused to accept that. But Hallie, she left him, but she came back too, knowing that nothing had changed. That they still had the same wants for their futures that just didn’t align. What I’m trying to get at here, is that Casey deserves someone good. Someone who will be a partner, one half of a relationship, someone who won’t push him into things he doesn’t want or lead him on. I think that you two are great together, and I think that the two of you could spend the rest of your lives together happily. But you need to talk to each other. You can’t ignore things and pretend that they go away. You’ve been through some painful things too, Brett, but you’re gonna have more people in your corner. So I’m always gonna have his back, okay? You can’t hurt him. He’s been through too much and doesn’t deserve to have any more pain caused by a selfish woman.”

 “I’ll be honest, that’s not what I was expecting to hear tonight, and not from you. But I think I needed to hear it.”

 “I know you did, but I think I need to make myself clear; either clear things up with him and get together or cut him loose. You’re a sweetheart Brett, but I’m done being silent in Matt Casey’s torment. Figure out exactly what you want with Matt and handle it accordingly.”

 “O-okay.” Brett had never, ever been on the receiving end of his anger or disapproval and truthfully it was jarring. He made it to the door when Sylvie remembered. “Wait! Ginger cookies are Cindy’s favourite, right? Do you want to take a container home?” Hermann stopped for a moment, then turned to face her, narrowing his eyes. “This doesn’t let you off the hook for anything...”

 “Of course not, I just know she likes them...”

 “Sure, then, that would be great.”

 “I’ll just grab a container.”

 “You won’t be betraying Gabby, just so you know. She did some pretty horrible things to him and then she was the one who chose to leave and start divorce proceedings. So if Gabby’s the reason behind all the drama, you need to re-evaluate your priorities.”

 “Here- the cookies. Uh, yeah. You’ve definitely given me a lot to think about. And you’re right, Matt doesn’t deserve to be hurt anymore. So, I’ll figure out what I want before shift and talk to him.”

 “Good. Have a nice night.”

“You too...” After she locked the door behind him she grabbed herself a glass of the rose Mouch had given her for her birthday- there was no way she was sleeping tonight. She hadn’t expected a dressing down from Hermann, but she supposed someone needed to defend Casey’s honour.

[myonechicagoworld]

CHICAGO FIRE – REAR VIEW MIRROR (S01E06)

                                              [door bell chime]

Hallie Thomas: Gabriela. 

Gabby Dawson: Hey.

Hallie Thomas: Thank you for meeting me.

Gabby Dawson: Yeah, of course. 

Hallie Thomas: I hope it wasn’t an inconvenience. 

Gabby Dawson: No, no, no, no. Not at all.

Hallie Thomas: I know you and Matt are close.

Gabby Dawson: Oh, uh…

Waitress: Can I get you something to drink?

Hallie Thomas: Uh, coffee’s fine, thank you.

                           I didn’t want to go to the Chief about this 

                           because…

                           God, I’m so sorry.

Gabby Dawson: Oh, it’s okay. What’s… what’s wrong?

Hallie Thomas: It’s the Detective Voight thing. I didn’t, um…

                          I know your brother’s been trying to help.

Gabby Dawson: Yeah, that’s right.

Hallie Thomas: It’s just I have never seen Matt like this, and I have

                          a feeling that something bad is gonna happen.

Gabby Dawson: I’m really sorry for everything you’re going  

                            through, Hallie, I am, but I’m not sure what I can 

        ��                   do.

Hallie Thomas: Matt’s deposition is scheduled after his shift.  

                          Once he testifies against Voight’s son, it’s…it’s not

                          worth it anymore just to prove a point. 

                          And I’m thinking more and more that Matt  

                          shouldn’t go through with it.

Gabby Dawson: You should tell Matt.

Hallie Thomas: I did. Last night.

                          He wouldn’t listen. 

                          But I think he would if it came from you.

                                                   cutscene

                                           [motor humming]

                                  [metal creaking & shaking]

Kelly Severide: Hey, hold still. Just relax.

                           Zit?

Tagger: I-I didn’t do that!

Kelly Severide: Of course not.

                          Look, this is as far as I can go. You gotta come the  

                          rest of the way.

Tagger: You mean drop?

Kelly Severide: That’s right.

Otis Zvonecek: Zito…big-time tagger.

Leslie Shay: Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’ve seen his name around.

Otis Zvonecek: Yeah? He’s hit every “L” train, bus stop, and 

                           mailbox in Chicago.

Christopher Herrmann: You president of his fan club?

Otis Zvonecek: No. There’s a street art exhibition at the MCA.

Christopher Herrmann: This clown’s in the museum?

Otis Zvonecek: What a country. Right?

Kelly Severide: Just slide on down nice and easy. I got you.

Tagger (Zito): You called the cops!

                        Whoa! 

Kelly Sevride: Hey!

Tagger (Zito): [struggling]

Kelly Severide: All right, now! Just drop!

                         (into radio) Coming down.

Matt Casey: (over radio) Copy. All clear.

Chief Boden: All good?

Otis Zvonecek: Yeah. Graffiti artist got stuck up there, Chief.

                                           [dramatic music]

                                            [car door shuts]

Chief Boden: Kelly.

                       You got no reason to be here.

Hank Voight: Oh, collecting gang intel, Chief.

                       Big new tag like that… gotta make sure it doesn’t 

                       spark a turf war.

Chief Boden: You’ve seen it. Now leave.

Hank Voight: You might want to take a step back there. I don’t want

                       to charge you or one of your men with interfering  

                       with a police investigation.

Chief Boden: Yeah.

                        Pack it up. We’re outta here.

Hank Voight: Oh, hey, Casey. You got your deposition tomorrow.

Kelly Severide: Come on, let’s go. Come on.

Hank Voight: Let me ask you, is that cute little fiancée of yours 

                       gonna be there too? ‘Cause I gotta tell you, the  

                       other night, when we were talking, she seemed  

                       kinda, I don’t know, uh, shut down. But by the 

                       end, she really started to open up.

Kelly Severide: Hey! Hey! Come on.

Matt Casey: Your day’s coming. Your day’s coming, Voight!

                                           - Title Screen -

                                           [knocks on door]

Chief Boden: Close the door.

                                               [door shuts]

Chief Boden: You all right? 

Matt Casey: Yeah.

Chief Boden: What do you want to do?

Matt Casey: About? 

Chief Boden: You.

                       You want to go out on calls, stay here in the house,  

                       take some time off?

Matt Casey: Go out on calls.

Chief Boden: Then you have to do it right.

Matt Casey: I have been.

Chief Boden: You’ve heard me say this a million times. 

                        In this job, regardless of what’s going on in your life,  

                        you take your eye off it for one second, people can 

                        die.

Matt Casey: You’re right. I have heard you say that, and we’re in 

                      agreement.

Chief Boden: I wish I could do more to fix this, but right now, it is  

                      just a matter of trusting the system.

                      Look, Matt, there won’t be another warning.

                                         [background chatter]

Kelly Severide: Hey. 

                          Hey, look…

                          Look, man, you wanna hit somebody, my buddy   

                          has got a boxing gym over in Bucktown. You get  

                          a trainer, you glove up, you hit mitts. 5 bucks a   

                          round. We could head over there after shift.

Matt Casey: Yeah, I’ll-I’ll think about it. Thanks.

                                                 cutscene

Christopher Herrmann: Not to sound like my father-in-law, but  

                                        this is what’s wrong with America.

Otis Zvonecek: What’s wrong with America or what’s great about 

                           America?

Christopher Herrmann: Are you kidding me? 3,000 clams for that, 

                                       and I’m out there doing side jobs for 20 

                                       dollars an hour?

Joe Cruz: Hey, Mouch is looking for you.

Christopher Herrmann: Do you know how much the taxpayers of  

                                        this city pay for graffiti removal? 50 million 

                                        a year.

Peter Mills: Uh, that… that sounds high.

Christopher Herrmann: Look it up.

                                         All right, stop. All right, so it’s more like  

                                         25 million or something. 

                                                  [laughing]

Christopher Herrmann: Either way, it’s a lot of money.

Peter Mills: Yeah.

Christopher Herrmann: And then this little wannabe hood rat…

Leslie Shay: Herrmann… it’s bold. It’s provocative.

Christopher Herrmann: Hahaha. You’re just trying to get a rise.

                                        And look at these high society douche  

                                        bags lapping it up.

                                        You see, this is why, when my kids get out  

                                        of high school, Cindy and me, we’re  

                                        moving to Chain O’Lakes ‘cause… I can’t 

                                        deal with this insanity.

                                                       [laughter]

                                                       cutscene

Gabby Dawson: How long am I looking at? Realistically.

Mouch: Somewhere between 0 and 100 days.

Gabby Dawson: Oh…do you understand [chuckles] the definition  

                            of ‘realistically’?

Mouch: There’s a lot of moving parts to this.

Gabby Dawson: They’re on your head.

Mouch: Ah.

Gabby Dawson: Have you ever even been to a suspension hearing 

                            before?

Mouch: Of course.

              Your case [Gabby sighs] is a two-demerit issue, and so  

              we’re gonna keep it friendly. And the more aggressive  

              you come across, the more guilty you’ll look. Keep 

              your responses short and to the point.

Gabby Dawson: All right, cool. So you’re saying you got this, 

                            right Mouch?

Mouch: Yeah, but we still gotta prep. Where you going?

                                                  cutscene

Gabby Dawson: Hey.

Matt Casey: Hey.

Gabby Dawson: [nervous chuckle] Sorry, just what you needed,  

                            right? One more person asking how you’re 

                            doing.

Matt Casey: Better than nobody giving a rat’s ass, I guess.

Gabby Dawson: So… how are you holding up?

Matt Casey: I’m just hoping that luck’s on my side because in  

                     terms of me being able to control the situation. It 

                     hasn’t worked out so well.

Gabby Dawson: Uh… but I guess there… there is one more thing  

                            you could do to end this whole thing, right?

                            Have you thought about retracting your statement?

Matt Casey: Would you?

Gabby Dawson: I would think about it.

Matt Casey: Okay. Now that you have…

Gabby Dawson: [sighs]

Matt Casey: Why would you advise me to do something you 

                      wouldn’t?

Gabby Dawson: I…

                                    [alarm whooping, PA buzzing]

(Over PA): Ambulance 61, Truck 81, gunshot victim. 25 East 

                 Halsted Street.

                                                 [siren blares]

                                                 [horns honk]

                           [cars honking, indistinct chatter & shouting]

                                             [truck door shuts]

Lady 1: C’mon!

Matt Casey: Wait! 

Leslie Shay: Where’s the victim?

CTA Driver: In the back.

Matt Casey: Shooter?

CTA Driver: Gone. I swerved when I heard the shots.

Matt Casey: Cruz, Mills, in the bus.

                     Cones and flares; get these cars moving.

                                      [car horns beeping & honking]

Leslie Shay: Shot to the neck. Not breathing. Weak pulse.

                     Guys… 

Gabby Dawson: We need your help.

Leslie Shay: Alright, get him down here.

                     Down here’s good. Watch his head. Watch his head.

Gabby Dawson: Okay, you gotta get an open airway or we’re gonna

                            lose him right now.

                            Here, open this.

Leslie Shay: We can’t tube him; too much mouth trauma.

Gabby Dawson: All right, surgical cric. 

Leslie Shay: Not approved in the field, Dawson.

Gabby Dawson: Excuse me, sir, does that really matter to you  

                            right now? No? Oh, okay, good.

Leslie Shay: Give it to me.

Gabby Dawson: I got it.

Leslie Shay: Dawson, give it to me. Now!

                      Alright, give me the tube. 

Joe Cruz: We’ll get the backboard and stretcher.

                                           [car door shuts]

Christopher Herrmann: Chief.

                                        [whistles] Hey, keep it moving! 

                                        Let’s go, let’s go.

Chief Boden: Surgical cric?

Gabby Dawson: We could’ve waited for approval, but then he 

                            would have been D.O.A.

Leslie Shay: It was my call, Chief. I’ll take the hit.

                                      [tires screech, horns honk]

Matt Casey: What was that?

Man 1: What are you doing?

Matt Casey: Huh? No, you’re gotta wait.

                      Oh, you’re gonna do that? Go on.

                                              [tires screeching]

Chief Boden: Casey! 

                        Your shift is over.

Matt Casey: Oh, come on Chief!

Chief Boden: No, no, no, no. Go home. Head for the house.  

                       Whatever you want but you are done for 

                       today.

                                              [radio chatter]

                                           [truck door shuts]

Kelly Severide: Where’s Casey?

                           Chief. 

Chief Boden: I’m not taking any more chances.

Kelly Severide: He’s doing the right thing. He’s getting his ass 

                          kicked for it.

Chief Boden: You don’t think I know that?

Kelly Severide: Then he needs to be here where we can keep an 

                           eye on him.

Chief Boden: Kelly, I tried that already.

Kelly Severide: So he’s better off out there by himself, pissed off,  

                           not thinking straight…

Chief Boden: This is a firehouse…

                        Not some of the time, not for some of the calls.  

                        Any man who walks through that door, he gotta be 

                        ready. If he isn’t, he’s gonna be walking in the 

                        other direction.

                        ‘Cause I am a chief first and I am a friend second. 

                         Casey’s just gonna have to find his own way from 

                         now on.

                                                        cutscene

Leslie Shay: Saline?

Gabby Dawson: [sighs] Two.

Leslie Shay: Ambo bag?

Gabby Dawson: One. Do you also want me to tell you how much  

                            gas we have left in the ambo tank ‘cause  

                            apparently, all I’m good for is inventory and 

                            driving now.

Leslie Shay: Listen, one more black mark on your record between  

                     now and Friday…

Gabby Dawson: Why even go to the hearing if you’re already 

                            suspending me?

Leslie Shay: Maybe I don’t want to ride around with half-assed 

                      relievers for three months. Ever thought of that?

                      Listen, Chief did the right thing. Gave him some time 

                      to cool off. 

                      He’s gonna be fine.

                                                      cutscene

Otis Zvonecek: We should eat, huh?

Peter Mills: Make a sandwich.

Otis Zvonecek: [munching]

Peter Mills: So… Casey’s out for how long?

Christopher Herrmann: Chief knows that, not me.

Mouch: I got a suspension hearing to prepare for. 

              Send Dawson in, if you see her.

Joe Cruz: [slams fists down on table] Yo I feel like we’re sitting 

                 around like a bunch of pussies while we let Voight 

                 push our boy around. Why can’t we take the ball 

                 game to him?

Christopher Herrmann: I got a wife and four kids who don’t need  

                                        their dad fired or locked up.

Joe Cruz: How ‘bout you, Mills?

Otis Zvonecek: Why aren’t you asking me?

Joe Cruz: Because I’m not talking about toilet papering Voight’s 

                 house, O.

                 How ‘bout it, Mills?

Peter Mills: I’m down.

Christopher Herrmann: Okay, the both of you shut up.  

                                         Nobody’s gonna do nothin’.

Joe Cruz: So we just sit by?

Christopher Herrmann: Then go! Put on a ski mask and take on a 

                                         dirty cop, and see how far that gets you.

                                                 [door shuts]

                                                   cutscene

                                           [cell phone buzzes]

Gabby Dawson: What’s the latest?

Antonio Dawson: Nothing yet.

Gabby Dawson: What are you say…what, we’re still at zero?  

                            Score one? What do you mean nothing?

Antonio Dawson: I’ve been doing plenty. But if you’re asking if I  

                              have anything conclusive at this moment, the 

                              answer’s no.

Gabby Dawson: Well, what have you been doing, Antonio? 

Antonio Dawson: [scoffs]

Gabby Dawson: I would love to know, because this whole thing is 

                            unravelling for Casey.

Antonio Dawson: Voight’s put the word out on the street… 

                              we know that. So we’re looking for someone to

                              wear a wire. Yesterday, we busted a kid for  

                              possession. He’s in a gang with ties to Voight. 

                              I offered him a deal if he’d flip. Had him this 

                              close, but he wouldn’t go.

Gabby Dawson: So offer him something else.

Antonio Dawson: [scoffs] It don’t work like that. 

                               As long as Casey doesn’t take the bait, this  

                              thing’s gonna play out the way we want. 

                              So sit tight. Have a little faith in your brother.

                                                       cutscene

Hallie Thomas: Why don’t we just leave? We both have vacation  

                           time built up. We could even go longer, I’m sure 

                            they would give you a leave of absence.

Matt Casey: When we get back… Voight will have forgotten all 

                      about it?

Hallie Thomas: We go where he can’t find us, and we give the   

                           cops enough time to bust him. 

                           Come on, baby. Let’s get out of here. 

                           Let’s regroup. 

                                              [knocks on door]

Matt Casey: Just…

                                          [indistinct radio chatter]

Officer Bell: Matthew Casey?

Matt Casey: Yeah?

Officer Bell: We have a warrant to search your home.

Matt Casey: What?

Officer Bell: We got a tip says you’re in possession of cocaine.  

                     Either we can search your house, or you can  

                     produce the cocaine and your cooperation will be 

                     taken into consideration.

Matt Casey: Voight. Detective Voight, he put you up to this?

Officer Bell: No, I don’t know any Voight. 

                     I just know we’re coming in.

                     The warrant allows us to search the entire house, and 

                     you’re allowed, by law, to stay in the house if you 

                     remain cooperative.

Matt Casey: I’m a firefighter, Station 51. My fiancée is a doctor at  

                     Lakeshore. Do we really look like cocaine users to 

                     you?

Officer Bell: If you could please both go wait in the front room.

                     Now.

Matt Casey: Antonio Dawson. He’s a Detective in Vice. He’ll tell you 

                     we’re being harassed by this cop. I have Antonio’s 

                     number on my cell. Will you please just take a second 

                     and talk to him? 

                     Please.

Officer Madden: Yeah, this is Officer Madden. 

                             Yeah, we have a search warrant for 

                              Matthew Casey…

                                     [continues indistinctly]

Matt Casey: It’s all right, baby. It’s gonna be alright. 

                                       [suspenseful music]

Officer Madden: He says they’re clean.

Officer Bell: If I ever have to come back here again, no favour is  

                     gonna get you out of it. 

                                [police radio chatter in background]

                                                 [door closes]

Hallie Thomas: It was under the table.

                          Oh my God.

Matt Casey: That’s 15 years right there.

Hallie Thomas: Call Antonio back.

Matt Casey: Flush it down the toilet.

Hallie Thomas: Baby… 

Matt Casey: Flush it down the toilet!

                                                [toilet flushes]

Hallie Thomas: Matt!

                                             [tires screeching]

                                               [raps on door]

Hank Voight: [grunts]

Matt Casey: [heavy breathing]

Hank Voight: You just committed a couple felonies. 

Matt Casey: I’m ready to commit a few more. Because I’m telling  

                     you, it ends now, or you’re the one that’s gonna 

                     disappear. 

                                                [gun cocks]

Hank Voight: Yeah, I can respect that. 

                       Go ahead. Use it.

                       You retract that statement against my son… or you  

                        pull that trigger. 

                        Because that’s the only thing that’s gonna stop me.

                                              [car door shuts]

Matt Casey: [heavy breathing]

                      [grunts & pants]

                                                   cutscene

Gabby Dawson: Muffled heart sounds. It was clearly Beck’s triad. 

                            She had a sternal fracture, a large  

                            hemopericardium and mediastinal haemorrhage,  

                            all of which indicates that a pericardiocentesis is 

                            obviously…

Mouch: You’re already talking too much. The question was what did 

              you see?

Gabby Dawson: Uh, I saw a young girl in danger of dying and so I  

                            felt it was necessary…

Mouch: Feelings… no feelings. Thoughts. Convictions. 

Gabby Dawson: Okay, fine. I thought that… I knew that I had to do 

                            something immediately, and that something was 

                            per…

Mouch: Just answer the question posed to you. Don’t elaborate. 

              And smile. 

Gabby Dawson: Fine.

Mouch: Go ahead.

Gabby Dawson: What? 

Mouch: Smile. Let me see it.

Gabby Dawson: Oh, Mouch, come on.

Mouch: Let me see it.

Gabby Dawson: I can smile

Mouch: Come on. Contrite, not smug.

              Welcoming and innocent. 

              We’re gonna work on that.

                                                   cutscene

Tony: [sighs] I’m hitting the rack, boys.

Hadley: Yeah [chuckles] ‘Cause you’re getting buried.

                                          [truck door shuts]

Capp: Uh, oh.

Kelly Severide: Nah, all good. 

Hadley: How do you know?

Kelly Severide: That’s an ‘I’m with the program’ kind of walk.

                                              [cards shuffling]

                                             [knocks on door]

Matt Casey: [sighs] You were right. Voight had me spun out. I let it  

                      get to me. Won’t let it again. I need to work. I’m willing 

                      to trust the system. 

                      So I’d like to resume my duties, Chief.

Chief Boden: Welcome back.

Mouch: Hey!

                                        [laughing & cheering]

Joe Cruz: Yeah, there he is, huh?

Christopher Herrmann: Alright, alright, alright, alright. Don’t turn it  

                                        into a Greek wedding. Come on, 

                                        everybody, normal day. Everybody go 

                                        about your business. Let’s go.

                                     [siren blares, PA buzzes]

(Over PA): Truck 81, Engine 51, Squad 3, Ambulance 61.  

                  Building fire, Indiana and 28th Place.

                                            [doors shuts]

                                           [engine starts]

                                           [sirens blaring]

Christopher Herrmann: Hey, Chief. Dumpster fire. Nobody called   

                                        it in. Flames went up the service elevator  

                                        shaft, spread out on the fifth.

                                     [indistinctive chatter]

Chief Boden: Find me the super. I need occupancy numbers.

                       What about the main elevator?

Christopher Herrmann: Otis just cleared it. He’s coming out with a  

                                         few more tenants.

                                              [radio chatter]

Chief Boden: Five more ambos, and Chief Hatcher’s on the way.

Leslie Shay: We’re gonna need ‘em. Anticipate at least five reds in 

                      there.

Gabby Dawson: We can’t wait for Hatcher with this many 

                            non-responsives. 

                            We gotta set up triage.

Chief Boden: Do it. You’re in charge here.

Gabby Dawson: All right.

                            (into radio) This is Ambulance 61. Give me an 

                            EMS plan one...[continues indistinctly]

Leslie Shay: Hey, Chief?

Chief Boden: She’ll be fine.

Leslie Shay: I know. But where are all the people? 

                     No one’s coming out of the other side of the building. 

Chief Boden: (into radio) Squad 3, check out the West Side fire 

                        stairwell. 

Kelly Severide: (into radio) Already on three. Must be a blockage. 

                           Capp and Hadley have the east.

Chief Boden: (over radio) I’m sending you Casey, Cruz, and Mills. 

                       We need to check out those upper floors.

Matt Casey: On it.

Kelly Severide: You’re kidding me.

Matt Casey: You alright? 

Joe Cruz: Yeah.

Matt Casey: Severide! 

Kelly Severide: Hey, I’m clearing a path.

                          Hey, is there anybody back there?

                          Hey.

Victim 1 (lady): They… They can’t breathe. It’s pitch black in there. 

                          There’s people in the hall.

                                               [coughing]

Kelly Severide: If you’re mobile, keep walking.

                         Slow and steady. There’s paramedics waiting.

                         Hey, I’ll take this.

Matt Casey: I’m going up further.

Kelly Severide: Okay.

                                           [signal clicking]

Kelly Severide: (into radio) Got at least four reds heading to triage.

Gabby Dawson: Alright, we got another red. 

                           Shay, this one’s yours. 

Leslie Shay: Yeah, got it.

Gabby Dawson: Alright. 

Kelly Severide: There’s three more up on six.

Gabby Dawson: Any burns?

Kelly Severide: Not on six. But Casey, Cruz and Mills went higher.

Gabby Dawson: All right.

Chief Boden: (into radio) Capp, Hadley, meet us in the west 

                       stairwell.

Hadley: (over radio) Copy. 

Boy 1: You’re going in there?

Chief Boden: You need to get back behind the lines. Mouch, get 

                        this kid safe.

Mouch: Come here, pal.

Leslie Shay: You gotta get that tube down her throat. 

Paramedic: I can’t. There’s too much swelling. 

Leslie Shay: Then cric her.

Paramedic: I’ve never done it.

Leslie Shay: Dawson, you’ve gotta cric this woman, or she’s a 

                     goner.

Gabby Dawson: Alright, hand me a scalpel. 

Chief Hatcher: Who’s the lead here?

Gabby Dawson: You’re looking at her.

                            You may as well keep looking over my shoulder,  

                            ‘cause this is definitely gonna be an infraction.

                            Hand me a size five tube.

                            Bag.

                            All right, bag her. 

                            Lungs are good. Get me the fastest driver we’ve 

                            got. 

Chief Hatcher: (into radio) Next available ambulance, now!

Dispatcher: (over radio) Copy that. Car 816, respond to triage.

Joe Cruz: Seven is clear.

Peter Mills: Casey is on eight.

Chief Boden: I got it. I’m on my way up.

Matt Casey: Fire department! Call out!

                                         [door busting open]

                                          [people coughing]

Matt Casey: Come on!

                     Come on. 

Victim 2 (man): [grunts]

Chief Boden: No. Casey, retreat. Go back. You won’t make it.

                       Retreat. You won’t make it!

                       Get back in the apartment. 

                                             [coughing]

Chief Boden: Casey, go back!

                                            [flashover]

                                           [door shuts]

Matt Casey: Get down.

Chief Boden: [into radio] Casey plus two on eight. East corner unit.  

                       Move that ladder now!

                                        [glass shatters]

                                            [coughing]

Matt Casey: (into radio) Mayday! 

                     (over radio) Mayday! Not sure how long I can hold it 

                     back. 

                                     [indistinctive chatter]

Joe Cruz: Eight is a reach. 

Kelly Severide: No choice.

                          Get that ladder as close as you can. Hug that  

                          building if you have to, Capp and I will climb.

Joe Cruz: I need a clear path to the East Corner. 

Matt Casey: What’s your name?

Victim 2 (man): [coughing] Curtis.

Matt Casey: Okay, Curtis, you’re gonna put that on her. Make sure 

                      it’s tight around her face.

Victim 2 (man) (Curtis): [coughing] 

Matt Casey: Good, now I want you to open the window. 

Victim 2 (man) (Curtis): We ain’t gonna make it.

Matt Casey: Open it!

Victim 2 (man) (Curtis): [coughing]

Christopher Herrmann: (into radio) We’re gonna have three  

                                         coming down from eight. I need   

                                         two ambulance crews ready at the 

                                         base of Truck 81.

Dispatcher: (over radio) Copy that. Truck 81, we’ll have you two 

                     ambos…[continued indistinctly]

Kelly Severide: (into radio) We’re coming for you, Casey.

Matt Casey: (over radio) Better make it fast! 

                     (into radio) It’s getting hot in here!

Kelly Severide: (into radio) Alright, tell ‘em to stand in three, two…

                          one.

Matt Casey: Alright, Curtis, get your mom up!

Victim 2 (man) (Curtis): Come on, you go first.

Kelly Severide: Okay. Come on out. 

                          Turn around.

Victim 2 (man) (Curtis): [coughing]

Kelly Severide: Capp, take her!

                          Hang on.

                          All right. Here.

Capp: Slow step backwards.

Kelly Severide: Come on!

Matt Casey: Not until he’s out!

Kelly Severide: Let’s go. 

Matt Casey: Aah!

Kelly Severide: Come on.

                           All right, your turn!

Matt Casey: No way! Not until you’re out of range!

Kelly Severide: Not moving! Let go now!

Matt Casey: All right, here I come!

Kelly Severide: All right, hang on, keep your head down.

Matt Casey: [grunts]

                                             [explosion]

Matt Casey: Can’t… Can’t get up.

Kelly Severide: Hey! 

Matt Casey: [grunting]

Kelly Severide: Grab my…grab my arm.

                           [grunts]

                           Swing! 

                           [winces]

                           Come on, I got you.

Matt Casey: [grunts]

Severide & Casey: [pants]

                                        [radio chatter]

Chief Boden: Capp.

Capp: Thanks, Chief.

Chief Boden: Hadley.

Hadley: Chief.

Chief Boden: Good job.

Christopher Herrmann: Chief.

Gabby Dawson: That was pretty close, huh?

Matt Casey: Plenty of time.

Gabby Dawson: [scoffs] Really?

Matt Casey: Listen, if you see Hallie at the hospital, don’t tell her  

                     about this, okay? I’ve given her enough to worry 

                     about lately.

Gabby Dawson: Yeah.

Peter Mills: Hey… Chief says you should hit it so you can make it  

                    to your hearing.

Gabby Dawson: Who’s gonna cover?

Peter Mills: EMT certified. Good luck.

Matt Casey: Yeah, good luck.

Gabby Dawson: Yeah. Okay. 

Matt Casey: Take care of your mom, okay?

                                             [siren wailing]

Curtis: Hey, you Casey?

Matt Casey: Yeah.

Curtis: You’re the one got the problem with Detective Voight, right?

Matt Casey: Yeah, that’s right.

Curtis: Man, I can help you out.

                                                 cutscene

Antonio Dawson: Curtis is gonna do it. 

Chief Boden: When? Where?

Antonio Dawson: Now. He already put in a call to Voight for a 

                               meet. 

                              I’m gonna prep him while my techs wire him up.  

                              Then we’re good to go.

                              Now, we got one shot at this. There’s about a  

                              dozen things that could flush it down the drain,  

                              so don’t say anything to anyone. Don’t even  

                              mention his name out loud, ‘cause Voight’s got 

                              ears all over this city.

                              I’ll let you know once it goes down.

Matt Casey: I want to be there.

Antonio Dawson: [sighs] 

                              Fine. Let’s go.

                                                     cutscene

Hearing Officer: The charges you face, Miss Dawson, are both very 

                             serious and very troubling.

Mouch: We disagree whole heartedly, Sir.

Hearing Officer: Miss Dawson chose to perform a procedure that 

                            was clearly outside of her jurisdiction, and that  

                            could have mortally injured the patient in her 

                            care.

Gabby Dawson: I…

Mouch: J… To refresh my memory, could you please read the full  

              charges out loud? I believe we have that right.

Hearing Officer: Gabriela Dawson is charged with wilful neglect of  

                            protocol, and of practising a medical procedure  

                            that she was neither trained nor certified…

Gabby Dawson: No, I have been trained in that procedure, and I 

                            knew exactly what I was doing, and how much 

                            time we didn’t have. I’m also currently taking  

                            pre-med classes, where I’ve re-studied every 

                            procedure…

Mouch: I’m sorry.

Hearing Officer: And I am studying for my pilot’s license, 

                            Miss Dawson, but that does not mean I 

                            can land a 747 in a blizzard.

Gabby Dawson: But you’d sure as hell try if you were about to 

                            crash.

Hearing Officer: You are lucky that girl is alive, or there would be  

                            criminal charges pending against you. 

Gabby Dawson: If saving a kid’s life is now a criminal offense, then 

                            maybe it’s your damn protocol that’s out of   

                            whack, and the wrong people are making the 

                             rules.

Mouch: Ten-minute break?

Hearing Officer: Five.

Gabby Dawson: You didn’t even remember the charges.

Mouch: I was stalling for time.

Gabby Dawson: What? Why?

Hearing Officer: We’re ready.

                                               [footsteps]

Mouch: Ah…

Gabby Dawson: Hey Madeline.  

Lady 2 (Madeline’s mother): I’m sorry. Are we too late?

Gabby Dawson: Hi.

Mouch: Uh, please enter into the record witnesses number two, 

             three, and four.

             There’s a reason sky divers pack two parachutes.

                                               cutscene

                                          [cat meowing]

Antonio Dawson: Here we go.

                                          [car door shuts]

Hank Voight: What’s happening, young blood?

Curtis: What’s up with you, V?

            Deshawn said there’s money to be made on the firefighter.  

            I want his deal.

Hank Voight: He tell you who it is?

Curtis: Yeah, but I wasn’t really paying attention till he said 

             something about the money.

Hank Voight: His name is Casey.

Curtis: How much?

Hank Voight: Depends on services rendered.

Curtis: Well, Deshawn said his boys got 5 for jumping him. I figure I  

             could do a lot worse for a grand.

Hank Voight: Bro, you stop him for good, I’ll give you 2.

Antonio Dawson: We got it?

                              (into radio) Move it in.

                                          [siren whoops]

Curtis: They ain’t here for me, bro.

Police Officers: Let’s see your hands!

                           Don’t move!

                           Come on, get ‘em up!

Hank Voight: Yeah, look at me.

Antonio Dawson: I got him, I got him. 

Hank Voight: Enjoy it while you can. This is entrapment.

Antonio Dawson: You’re cooked, young blood. 

                              Get in.

                                             [door shuts]

                                               cutscene

Otis Zvonecek: Got it. 

                           Oh, that’s great.That’s great to hear.

                           Oh yeah, okay. See you at the shindig. Bye.

                           That was Mouch. Dawson got a three-shift  

                            suspension, but we’ll be throwing her a 

                            suspension party tomorrow night. 

Joe Cruz: So how much money does she lose, like, 2 grand?

Otis Zvonecek: [sighs] A little bit more but if we all chip in   

                           20 bucks, we might be able to put a dent in 

                            it.

Christopher Herrmann: Or…[sighs]

Otis Zvonecek: It’s got that signature wild style of his and it has   

                           this lovely unfinished quality to it. He almost fell   

                           to his death while finishing the ‘O’.

Christopher Herrmann: Unbelievable.

Otis Zvonecek: Can you hold on one second? 

                           Thanks, pal. Hello?

                           Hey Serg, how are you?

                           Listen, I’m gonna have to give you a call back. 

                           I’m on the other line with a different buyer. But if

                           he starts dragging his  feet, it’s all yours buddy.

                           All right [chuckles], thanks, pal. Hello? 

                           Alright, 2,000.

                           1,500? 

                           You gonna slap me in the face like that? You 

                            gonna   slap me in the face with 1,000? 

                            You…[laughs] I’ll take it.

                                                     cutscene

Peter Mills: There we go

Mouch: What’s this?

Peter Mills: Just drink it.

                    Congrats to Dawson. Could have been worse.

Gabby Dawson: Thank you. 

                            Cheers.

Mills & Mouch: Cheers

All: Oh!

Mouch: Shiver me timbers.

Gabby Dawson: [chokes & laughs]

                                               [kissing sound]

Gabby Dawson: Thank you so much for your help, Mouch.  

                             You really pulled it out.

Mouch: You weren’t… worried about me, were you?

Gabby Dawson: Oh no. Never.

Christopher Herrmann: [sighs] Thomas Kincade? Okay, I get that.

                                        You look at his paintings…God rest his 

                                        soul…But yeah, that’s art. That’s worth 

                                        money. But this?

                                        The scourge of a civilised society, man.

                                        Chain O’Lakes, guys. Chain O’Lakes.  

                                        That’s where you’ll find me.

                                                [cell phone rings]

Otis Zvonecek: Yello?

                           Okay, great. We’ll bring it right out.

                           It’s the buyer. He’s here. Grab an end. 

Christopher Herrmann: I’m not touching it.

Otis Zvonecek: Chain O’Lakes.

Gabby Dawson: Hey, guys, I’ll help you.

Otis Zvonecek: Hey, thanks Dawson.

                                               [door bell chimes]

Someone: Thanks. D.

Matt Casey: I’m not gonna ask. I didn’t see it. I didn’t see it.

                     I’d have thrown the book at you.

Gabby Dawson: [laughs] 

Matt Casey: [laughs]

Gabby Dawson: Hi.

Matt Casey: Hi.

Gabby Dawson: Hey.

Antonio Dawson: Hey.

Gabby Dawson: I heard about Voight. He got it worse than me, 

                            huh?

Matt Casey: Rear view mirror, baby. Rear view mirror.

Gabby Dawson: [giggles] Well, then, you come to the right place.  

                            You can see my friend Peter Mills at the bar 

                            over there.

                            Oh, yeah, you did an okay job.

Antonio Dawson: Oh, thanks. What a ball-breaker, huh?

Gabby Dawson: You can handle it.

                             Any chance Voight beats this?

Antonio Dawson: No shot.

                              Speaking of shots, where are they?

Gabby Dawson: Over there.

                            Where’s Hallie?

Matt Casey: Meeting me here.

Gabby Dawson: I’m really happy for you.

Matt Casey: Me too.

Chief Boden: Hey. Come here.

Matt Casey: [muffled] Hey.

Chief Boden: I am glad it is over.

Matt Casey: It is. Thanks for everything, Chief.

Chief Boden: [scoffs]

Matt Casey: Are you… drunk… Chief?

Chief Boden: Yeah, a little.

Matt Casey: I’ll be joining you momentarily.

Chief Boden: Good. Glad to hear it.

Kelly Severide: Just ask him.

Leslie Shay: You. 

Kelly Severide: He’ll think I’m sniffing around.

Leslie Shay: How do you think I’m gonna come across?

Kelly Severide: Here he comes.

Leslie Shay: He thinks I’m a curmudgeon.

Kelly Severide: Would you just do it for me?

Leslie Shay: Peter Mills.

Peter Mills: Hey. Lieutenant. 

Kelly Severide: What’s up?

Leslie Shay: Great party. Thank you for hosting it.

Peter Mills: Yeah, no sweat.

Leslie Shay: And it’s a really cool space.

                     And what kind of food do you guys serve?

Peter Mills: Well, it’s a diner, so diner food.

Leslie Shay: Oh, hey, um, is your sister Elise here… tonight?

Peter Mills: No, she’s out with some friends.

Leslie Shay: Oh, alright. 

Kelly Severide: Thanks.  

Gabby Dawson: Cheers.

                                             [glass clinking]

Matt Casey: Cheers.

                                          [door bell chimes]

Gabby Dawson: Oh, Hallie’s here.

Hallie Thomas: Hi.

                                            [kissing sound]

Matt Casey: Hi. It’s over. We’re all right now. 

                     [whispers] We’re all right.

                                                - end -

Definitions:

MCA = Museum of Contemporary Art (Chicago)

Surgical cric = A cricothyrotomy is an incision made through the skin and cricothyroid membrane to establish a patent airway during certain life-threatening situations, such as airway obstruction by a foreign body, angioedema (swelling of the lower layer of skin and tissue just under the skin or mucous membranes. The swelling may occur in the face, tongue, larynx/voice box, abdomen or arms and legs) or massive facial trauma. It is nearly always performed as a last resort in cases where orotracheal (placement of a flexible plastic tube into the windpipe/trachea to maintain an open airway to serve as a conduit through which to administer certain drugs. It is frequently performed in critically injured, ill, or anesthetised patients to facilitate ventilation of the lungs. The endotracheal tube – the catheter – is passed through the mouth and vocal apparatus into the trachea) and nasotracheal (an endotracheal tube is passed through the nose and vocal apparatus into the trachea) intubation are impossible or contraindicated

D.O.A = Dead on arrival

Beck’s triad = Collection of three medical signs, associated with acute cardiac tamponade, a medical emergency when excessive fluid accumulates in the pericardial sac around the heart and impairs its ability to pump blood. The signs are low arterial blood pressure, distended neck veins, and distant, muffled heart sounds.

Sternal fracture = Fracture of the sternum (breast bone), located in the centre of the chest.

Hemopericardium = Refers to blood in the pericardial sac of the heart.

Mediastinal haemorrhage = Blunt chest trauma. It is caused by aortic injury, by mediastinal vascular injury such as aortic injury, and by fractures of the sternum and vertebral column

Pericardiocentesis = Procedure done to remove fluid that has built up in the sac around the heart.

EMS Plan One = 5 ambulances, 1 paramedic in charge, 1 assistant paramedic, 1 engine company or truck company, 1 battalion chief.

Curmudgeon = A bad tempered person, especially an old one.

[tabloidtoc]

OK, January 4

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: Ashton Kutcher haunted by his mistakes

Page 2: Contents 

Page 4: Jennifer Garner ready for romance -- Jennifer has proven she’s fine on her own but she’s eager for her happy ending and has even set her sights on some of Hollywood’s most eligible hunks like Chris Evans but seems happily single; she binge-watched Outlander and was totally taken with Sam Heughan and she also finds Martin Henderson very sexy but heard he has a girlfriend 

Page 6: After a tumultuous few years Hayden Panettiere’s 2021 is looking bright and she’s been working on herself since her split from toxic ex-boyfriend Brian Hickerson -- she’s taken control of her life and is making good choices -- she’s been able to rebuild her life and her relationship with her daughter Kaya who lives in Ukraine with her dad and next on her agenda is reviving her once-hot career

Page 7: Justin Bieber who’s been a devoted member of the controversial celeb-favored Hillsong Church for years is studying to become a minister -- Justin has long credited Hillsong and especially charismatic and recently fired pastor Carl Lentz for saving him from his dark period of drugs, public meltdowns and arrests -- Justin doesn’t plan to give up his music career but he feels there’s a bigger calling out there for him

* Jessica Simpson has signed deals for both a docuseries and a fictionalized series based on her life but not everyone is so pumped about her tell-all tendencies and least of all is her ex-husband Nick Lachey -- for Nick it’s just dredging up a past that’s better left alone and Nick hopes that Jessica goes easy on him in the scripted series but deep down knows there’s precious little chance of that

* Madonna is majorly inserting herself in her daughter Lourdes Leon’s love life and she’s constantly on the phone asking how things are going between Lourdes and her socialite beau of three years Jonathan Puglia and she wants to know when they’re making things official -- Madonna even pushes for double dates so she can bring her 26-year-old boyfriend Ahlamalik Williams -- Lourdes appreciates how much her mom cares but she’s finding all the micromanaging too much to handle 

Page 8: Jason Aldean who boasts an $80 million fortune loves splashing his cash around especially when it comes to his children -- the singer who shares son Memphis and daughter Navy with wife Brittany and girls Kendyl and Keeley with his ex likes being seen as the moneybags and leaves tough love to the kids’ moms and he’s always pulling out $100 bills for his teens and buying his little ones new clothes, toys and high-tech gadgets even though they’re so young -- he’s definitely spoiling the kids but nobody complains about it so he just keeps on buying them stuff because nothing makes him happier 

* The milestone 6-0 is still months away but George Clooney is planning to do some serious partying for his birthday and he’s sparing no expense -- he’s looking at celebrations across the States and Europe plus a boys-only getaway to Mexico 

* Leonardo DiCaprio and Jennifer Lawrence are having a blast filming their first movie together so much so that tongues are wagging about the pair’s fiery chemistry on the set -- even though Leo and Jen behave like total pros when the cameras aren’t rolling there’s a running joke among the cast and crew that Jen’s marriage to Cooke Maroney could be in trouble -- of course the reality is that Jen is crazy about her husband and Leo who is dating model Camila Morrone has a strict rule never to get involved with costars but still there’s an attraction that can’t be denied 

Page 10: Red Hot on the Red Carpet -- stars get glamorous in glitzy looks -- Alexa Chung, Tiffany Haddish

Page 11: Maya Hawke, Sarah Hyland 

Page 12: Who Wore It Better? Yara Shahidi vs. Cindy Bruna, Becky G vs. Sofia Carson 

Page 13: Celine Dion vs. Shailene Woodley

Page 14: News in Photos -- Jessie James Decker in a pink bikini in Nashville

Page 15: Heidi Montag and Spencer Pratt and their son Gunner doing a Christmas card shoot in L.A., Jessica Alba spent the day handing out Honest goodies at the Baby2Baby Holiday Drive-Thru Distribution in L.A. 

Page 16: Gwen Stefani rocked a cat-themed holiday jumpsuit while on the way to the recording studio in Santa Monica, Leighton Meester surfing in Malibu 

Page 17: Maria Sharapova brought back the 1970s during a photoshoot in L.A., Pink kept it casual during a coffee run to Starbucks in L.A., Tia Mowry returned home with a full trunk of gifts and goodies in L.A. 

Page 18: Nick Jonas and Priyanka Chopra Jonas exploring London 

Page 20: Let’s Get Physical -- Robin Wright took her bicycle out for a spin in L.A., Chris Hemsworth shows off his ripped body while lifting a tire, Winnie Harlow in L.A. 

Page 22: Deck the Halls -- newly-engaged Jonathan Bennett gushed of spending his first Christmas with fiance Jaymes Vaughan, Jonathan and Drew Scott dressed as elves 

Page 23: Jon Bon Jovi and his dog, Selena Gomez with her dog Winnie in front of the Christmas tree, Brooke Burke kicked off the season by signing ornaments that will be auctioned off by Operation Smile 

Page 24: Malin Akerman arranged the sheets and blankets and pillows at a Hotel Style Collection from Walmart event in NYC, Jeremy Renner filmed a scene for Hawkeye in NYC, Chrishell Stause stepped out for a morning walk with her rescue pooch Gracie in L.A. 

Page 26: Inside My Home -- Marc Anthony’s elegant estate in Coral Gables, Florida 

Page 28: Harrison Ford and Calista Flockhart are planning to renew their vows on Valentine’s Day which is 12 years to the day after Harrison proposed to Calista on their sprawling Jackson Hole, Wyoming ranch -- Calista is incredibly touched that Harrison is organizing this and he’s thoughtfully arranging to have her favorite flowers to be flown in and has already booked a local band and a caterer and baker 

Page 29: Emily Blunt and John Krasinski might be ready for baby No. 3 but friends are encouraging them to get their marriage on track first -- the two have had a tough couple of years and John can be hard to deal with and cranky when he’s working -- while the duo tend to put a super-positive spin on their marriage in public not everyone is convinced things are so rosy at home but Emily wants another child and so does John so they’re willing to take the risk 

* Meghan Markle and Prince Harry plan to kick off 2021 with a much-needed tropical vacation -- after an emotionally turbulent year Meghan and Harry are ready for this break -- following a quiet Christmas at home the couple is looking forward to relaxing on a warm beach somewhere, sleeping in, soaking up nature’s beauty and reconnecting as a couple -- they’re considering a private island in Hawaii or off the coast of Fiji 

Page 30: Taylor Swift who’s been collecting bridal magazines and wedding ideas since she was a teen will have to adjust to the idea of a small sequestered affair when her boyfriend Joe Alwyn officially pops the question -- the once-outgoing singer has turned into a hermit since hooking up with the British actor who insists on total privacy and loathes attention and now Tay’s inner circle is said to be worried that in Joe’s continued efforts to fly under the radar he’ll ultimately nix the lavish nuptials Taylor’s long envisioned

* Justin Timberlake and Olivia Wilde have a past -- dating briefly in 2011 and costarring in two films but they won’t have a future if Justin’s wife Jessica Biel has any say -- Justin is eager to work with newly single Olivia again but the collab between the old pals is a total no-no as far as Jess is concerned because she’s always seen Olivia as a threat and particularly now that she’s split from Jason Sudeikis

* Love Bites -- Bachelor Nation’s Emily Ferguson and hockey player William Karlsson are engaged, Christina Milian and Matt Pokora have another baby on the way, Gleb Savchenko and Cassie Scerbo dating 

Page 32: Cover Story -- Ashton Kutcher haunted by his past -- the actor is wrestling with major demons and regrets -- the grisly murder of his then-girlfriend Ashley Ellerin has stayed with him -- Ashton and wife Mila Kunis have weathered some storms but they’re in a good place now

Page 36: Celebrity Dads and Their Darling Daughters -- Michael and Carys Douglas, John and Ella Bleu Travolta, Lionel and Sofia Richie 

Page 37: Don and Dakota Johnson, Phil and Lily Collins 

Page 38: Ryan and Ava Phillippe, Mark and Lola Consuelos, Johnny and Lily-Rose Depp 

Page 39: Lenny and Zoe Kravitz, Clint and Francesca Eastwood, Alec and Ireland Baldwin, Rod and Ruby Stewart 

Page 40: Interview -- Charlize Theron does it all -- the actress, mom and producer talks about taking on projects that are close to her heart 

Page 42: New Year, New You -- kick-start a healthy 2021 with these celeb-approved wellness resolutions 

Page 46: Style Week -- Good American cofounded by Khloe Kardashian recently launched its first-ever footwear collection 

Page 54: Entertainment 

Page 55: Q&A with Brian Austin Green 

Page 58: Buzz -- Prince George and Princess Charlotte and Prince Louis joined their parents Prince William and Duchess Kate on the red carpet for the very first time and held hands on their way to London’s Palladium to watch the National Lottery’s Pantoland

Page 60: Sound Bites -- Gwyneth Paltrow on getting starstruck, Kurt Russell on wife Goldie Hawn’s penchant for sleeping in total darkness, Jimmy Fallon on which SNL costar he’d want to be stuck on a desert island with (Tina Fey), Chrissy Teigen on being embarrassed 

Page 61: Megan Thee Stallion on the guidance she gets from Jay-Z and Beyonce, Frances McDormand on hooking up with husband Joel Coen, Chad Michael Murray on seeing pics from his heartthrob days, Rachel Brosnahan on what the Marvelous Mrs. Maisel fans can look forward to 

Page 62: Horoscope -- Capricorn John Legend turned 42 on December 28

Page 64: By the Numbers -- Larry David 

[heartlessfujoshi]

xvtober day 8: older bros

Title: Tradition Fandom: FFXV Pairing: Polyship Roadtrip Rating: Mature (Mild NSFW - Foursome - Fluff and Smut - Tooth-rotting Fluff) Word Count: ~4,040 Prompt: Older Bros

Summary: Insomnia is thriving once again after the four had taken care of Ardyn and gotten rid of Scourge. Now it’s time for them to take a little vacation, as they have definitely deserved it. 

A/N: Here’s my next offering for XVtober! :) Please enjoy! 

***

Ignis watched Noctis go over to the dresser, pulling things out haphazardly as he held open a bag with his other hand. He shook his head, crossing his arms across his chest as he leaned against the doorjamb. “Your Majesty - you know that I’ve already packed. Why are you bothering to take more clothes?” 

“Because how do I know you packed what I want to wear?” Noctis turned to look at him, still in a frazzled state. “It’s been so long, Ignis. Maybe you don’t remember what I like.” 

He snorted, and shook his head. “If you think that something like that could actually happen, then maybe the Crystal fried your brain a little.” Ignis shook his head. “You know very well I know what clothes you prefer to wear on these types of excursions. I know it was more than a decade ago, but I also helped you pack when we did this last time, did I not?” 

“Right.” That seemed to quell the madness that had manifested inside of his King, as Noctis started to return the items to the drawer. “Where are Gladio and Prompto?” 

“Out getting a few provisions. They should be home soon.” Ignis walked over to where Noctis was now standing, looking a bit lost. “We don’t have to go, Noct.” He spoke softly, as he felt Noctis slip into his arms. “You’re the one that suggested we do this this weekend. No one would be upset if you felt like you aren’t ready to do this.” 

Noctis groaned, pushing his face against the side of his neck. “I want to go. We haven’t been outside of Insomnia in almost two years, Ignis. Two years! Everything is back to normal - it’s time we went and paid our friends a visit. I know you’ve been talking to Wiz still, and I’m sure that Viv would like to see us - assuming he’s still based out of Lestallum.” 

“He is.” He held Noctis a little closer, resting his head on top of his. “Look - we’re going on a camping trip for a week. It doesn’t mean we have to do the entire continent in that time. We can stick to the coast for now - I know you really miss fishing.” 

“Yes. Let’s go to the beach tonight. We’ll camp on the beach. I’m sure that’ll make Gladio happy.” Noctis lifted his head and stared up at him. “Would it make you happy, Ignis? Going back to Galdin after so long?” 

It wasn’t something he had bothered to think about, but he gave a nod of his head. “I do believe it will be nice to see the resort, and see what sorts of food Coctura has crafted in the last couple of years.” She was another that he’d kept in close contact with - not because Noctis had requested, but because he felt better knowing that the chef was doing well on her own. “And I’m pretty sure that neither Prompto or Gladio will complain.” 

“Complain about what?” Gladio asked, as he wandered into their shared bedroom. “Oy - I thought you guys were going to be ready to go!”

Noctis stepped away from him, and fixed his shirt and hair. “We’re ready. We were just discussing where we’d be going first.” 

“I thought we were going to go to Hammerhead!” Prompto walked into the room, his hair sticking up in all different directions. “Cindy’s been dying for us to visit!” 

Ignis nodded his head, adjusting his glasses. “Yes - we will be stopping in Hammerhead first, and we will enjoy a quick bite to eat at Takka’s, and then we’ll drive to Galdin.” 

“Serious??” Gladio looked at him, then looked at the King. “Is that your decision, Noct?” 

“It is.” Noctis gave him a quick glance, Ignis smiling as he nodded his head in approval. “We’ll camp tonight on the ocean - so that you guys can sleep while I fish all night.” 

The laughter that filled the room at that comment made Ignis realize how important these three men were to him. “Fat chance, Your Majesty!” Prompto walked over to Noctis, and planted a kiss on his cheek. “I’ll keep you company.” 

“You’ll be a distraction.” Ignis rolled his eyes, as he turned towards the door. “You’ll pester him for sex. And he won’t say no.” 

“Ignis!” Both Noctis and Prompto exclaimed at the same pitch, but he heard Gladio laugh which is all he wanted to hear. 

He gave a little wave of his hand. “Come on - let’s get out of the city before it gets to be too late. I’d rather like to watch the sunset from the beach this evening.” 

“How romantic.” Noctis commented, and he put his arm around Ignis’ waist. “Fine, Ignis. We’ll go. Everything is in the Regalia? All the equipment? Do you have enough Ebony for our trip?” 

“I should be fine.” Ignis put his own arm around Noctis, the two heading out of the bedroom together with their two lovers trailing behind them. “Gladio - keys, please.” 

“You sure you want to drive? I don’t mind.” 

“At this point - it’s tradition.” He winked, and caught the keys Gladio tossed to him. 

Their apartment was a few blocks away from the Citadel - Noctis opting to stay off site than live where he worked. He said it might have worked for his father, but it wasn’t something he was interested in, and Ignis couldn’t have agreed more. It was nice being able to get away from their work, instead of being saturated in it by living in the same building. He unlocked the Regalia, and then got into the driver’s seat, with Prompto taking the passenger seat. Noctis sat behind him, the weight of the King’s hand on his shoulder brought a wave of nostalgia rushing through him as he heard Gladio get in on the other side of the car. Yes - this was how they traveled, and it felt good to be returning to it once again. 

The drive out of the city was uneventful, which he was more than happy about. They made good time once they got onto the highway, the landscape almost as welcoming as the buildings back in Insomnia. He saw Prompto was snapping pictures with his camera, and it seemed that Gladio was looking out at the scenery, much like Noctis was. 

“Please tell me you filled up the tank before we left.” Noctis said, as they began to approach the area where they had run out of gas. “I do not want to push this car ever again.” 

“Why not, Your Majesty?” Prompto leaned over the back of the seat, the grin evident in his voice. “You’re much stronger now.” 

Both Ignis and Gladio chuckled, as he heard Noctis sputter that it wasn’t true. But Prompto was right. Noctis was stronger than he had been back then, and also more wise than his younger self, but really - there would be no need to push the car on this trip. “Yes, Your Majesty. I filled the tank before we left, so we are in no danger of having to push the car.” 

“Thank the Gods.” Noctis leaned back against the backseat, looking less nervous than he had been a few moments prior. “We’re almost to Hammerhead, aren’t we?” 

Prompto pointed at the billboard. “We are! Gosh, I hope Cindy is going to be happy to see us.” 

“Oy - remember, you’ve got us now, chocobo.” Ignis could hear the twinge of jealousy in Gladio’s voice. “You’d better not get any funny ideas.” 

“I would never!” Prompto shakes his head. “You know she’s just my friend! I love you guys! Not her!” 

“We know.” Noctis reached over, and put his hand on Ignis’ shoulder as he gave a gentle tap to Prompto’s. “Don’t worry. You can flirt with her all you want - we know you’re in our bed at night.” 

“That’s right!” The blond stuck his tongue out at Gladio, who laughed in response to the childish action. Ignis could only shake his head as he kept his eyes on the road. 

He pulled into the lot for Cindy’s garage, and saw her walking out to greet them with a big smile on her face. “Hey, y’all! I thought for sure y’all woulda been here earlier! Was traffic awful coming out here?”

“No.” Ignis turned off the engine, and saw all three of his friends get out of the car together. “We left a little late. Apologies if we’ve kept you waiting for us, Cindy.” He bowed his head towards her. 

“Nah, y’all are alright! Ya missed Cid, though. He went out to the Cape this afternoon - said he got tired of waiting for y’all, and said he’d see ya next visit.” Cindy grinned, and gave Prompto a hug first, then hugged Gladio, himself, and then the King last. “It’s real good to see ya, Yer Majesty.” 

“It’s nice to see you too, Cindy.” The blush on Noctis’ cheeks was adorable, and Ignis was glad when he saw Prompto snap a picture of the moment. “Care to join us for a late lunch at Takka’s?” 

“I’d love ta!” 

The five walked across the lot and headed into the diner, where Takka was waiting for them. “I thought that was you guys.” He commented, coming from behind the counter to greet them each with a friendly hug. “You lot are a sight for sore eyes.” He bowed down to Noctis, who quickly shook his head and had him stand back up for him. “Your Majesty - it’s an honor to have you back in my diner. Care for the fried fish?”

“You know that’s why we’re here.” The King agreed, and flashed a smile that Ignis hadn’t seen in over a decade. “But no greens on my plate.” 

“Of course not, Your Majesty.” Takka went back behind the counter, and headed back into the kitchen, while the five of them went and sat over at one of the booths by the window. 

Five glasses of water were brought to the table, Cindy sitting in between both Noctis and Prompto, who both looked like they were as happy as can be with her so close to the both of them. Ignis adjusted his glasses, then turned to look at Gladio. “Feels strange to be back here, doesn’t it?” 

“A little.” Gladio agreed, which made him feel mildly better. “Feels like it hasn’t been two years.” 

Their bodies would say otherwise. “I concur.” He smiled, then looked across at Noctis, who was looking at him. They shared a smile, then Takka brought their meals out to them - their favorites from when they used to come here often after needing to have the Regalia serviced. “This looks phenomenal, Takka.” 

“I know you boys are busy in the city, but you should try and come out here more. We get new shipments every week. I could start cooking special things for you.” 

He looked across at Noctis, who gave a nod of his head. “Yes, it’s true. We do need to escape the city more often than we do right now. I can’t make it a promise, but we will try, Takka.” 

“Thank you, Your Majesty. That’s better than a no. And your money is no good here today - so please, enjoy your food on me.” Takka gave another bow, and then headed back to the kitchen. 

“I can’t take this from him!” Cindy exclaimed, then shook her head. “I’ll pay for my meal. Y’all can eat for free if ya want.” 

Noctis shook his head. “We will pay too. He won’t like it, but I will insist.” 

“Very well, Your Majesty.” Ignis smiles, happy to hear Noctis say as much. 

Two hours pass by in a blink of an eye, the five swapping stories of what they’ve all been up to the last couple of years. Ignis listens with a careful ear, chiming in when necessary, but for the most part he just listens with a small smile on his face. They pay for their meal, even though Takka tried to say no, and then gave his thanks to them. Walking back to the Regalia, Ignis looked over at Cindy and saw a sad smile on her face. 

“We’ll come back and visit again before we head back to the city.” He promised, giving her a quick peck on the cheek. “We’ll have to, as it’s on our way back from Galdin.” 

“Good.” She smiled. “You boys are some of my favorite people on the planet - I hate that y’all are so far away!” 

“We miss you too, Cindy!” Prompto got into the passenger seat, as Ignis took his spot behind the wheel. “See you in a few days!” 

She gave a wave, and then went into the garage. Ignis looked back over his shoulder. “You two ready to head to the beach?” 

“I think His Majesty is incapable of human speech right now.” Gladio teased, as Noctis was curled up against his side, already asleep. “That didn’t take very long.” 

Ignis chuckled, and nodded his head. “His stomach is full of good food. I expected as much to happen.” He looked over at Prompto, the two of them leaning towards one another to share a quick kiss. “Are you good, Prompto?” 

“I’m great, Iggy!” The cherub-like smile on the blond’s face gave Ignis all the information he needed to know. “Let’s go to the beach!” 

The drive over to Galdin took a little longer than Ignis remembered, but maybe it was because he wasn’t driving that fast. He always tended to drive faster than necessary when they were on these roads twelve years ago, always afraid that an MT transport, or some daemons would disrupt their nocturnal adventures. He pulled up to the resort, the resort looking as beautiful as he remembered it. The pier was decked in lights, illuminating the pathway towards the hotel that they could definitely afford now, but camping had been voted on for at least a couple of nights. 

“Your Majesty, we’re here.” Ignis turned around to look at Noctis, who was now sitting up, stretching his arms above his head with a soft yawn. “Have a nice nap?” 

“Very much so.” Nocis rubbed his eyes, and grinned sheepishly. “Time to go pitch the tent?” 

“In so many words.” Gladio smirked, and gave a quick kiss to Noctis’ cheek. “Come on - you’re helping this time, you lazy bum.” 

Ignis and Prompto took care of getting the food items out of the trunk of the car, while both Noctis and Gladio grabbing their camping gear, and the items they would be sleeping on. Ignis got the grill set up, and he turned and saw Prompto was getting the fire set up. Another rush of nostalgia hit him as he stared at his friends, all doing the things they had done together twelve years ago. It surprised him that in his mind’s eye he still saw them how they looked back then, and not how they look currently. It was still a miracle that they all had defied the fate of the Gods, bringing down Ardyn instead of having Noctis do it alone. There wasn’t a day that didn’t pass that Ignis wasn’t thankful for the Astrals being on their side for once. 

“Iggy?” He turned and saw Prompto was looking at him. “You okay?” 

“I am.” Ignis smiled, and held his arms up, happy to feel Prompto accept the gesture, the blond’s body pressing right up against his. “I was just remembering, that’s all.” 

“Good memories, I hope?” Prompto’s nose rubbed against his neck, making him hum low a little in his throat. “It’s a bit weird being here again, isn’t it?” 

“Not in a bad way, but yes.” He agreed, the two of them turning to look at the tent that was now fixed properly. “Shall we go see what the inside looks like?” 

“I’m afraid of what we might find in there.” The laughter that bubbles out of Prompto has Ignis adding his own laugh. “You know how those two are.” 

“Quite.” They walked over to the tent and pushed the two flaps apart, and saw that the floor was covered with opened sleeping bags, their pillows arranged in much the same fashion as they slept on their bed back at home. Both Gladio and Noctis were laying down, but neither were doing anything lewd - it looked like they were enjoying a cuddle. “Are we interrupting you?” He asked, keeping a teasing tone in his voice, as he didn’t want his two lovers to think they were intruding. 

Gladio turned to look at him. “You know you’re not. Come over here, would you? Both of you?” 

Prompto turned to him, and they both walked further into the tent and got into their normal formation. Ignis sidled up behind Noctis’ body, and he saw Prompto get between Noctis and Gladio, the two couples facing one another. The sounds of the ocean could be heard, the gentle calm of the waves helping to alleviate any worry that seemed to be clinging to his psyche. He buried his face against Noctis’ neck, and felt him scoot his hips back a little, his body molding perfectly against his own. 

“Are we going to have a late night snack?” Noctis asked, his voice slightly breathless as Ignis could hear both Gladio and Prompto kissing parts of the King’s body, while he himself was casually rolling his hips in a teasing manner. “I want to fish…” 

“If you’re suggesting you would rather fish than have us fuck, you’ve got another thing coming to you, Princess.” Gladio’s voice was deep, full of lust that Ignis could feel surging in his own veins as he put his hand on top of Prompto’s thigh, while continuing to grind himself against Noctis’ ass. “Because I think the three of us want to make sure that you know that things are different now.” 

It was true. When they had been on the road before - the four of them had always skirted around the possibility of a relationship all together. Yes, a few times the four of them had been together sexually, but for the most part, they had stuck as couples, off and on. Each taking their turn with one another, rather than in a group. But once Noctis had gone into the Crystal, the three that were left behind determined that when he returned, that they would stay as a foursome. And Noctis had agreed, one hundred percent. 

“I guess I have no choice, do I?” Ignis’ hand moved from Prompto’s hip to be on Noctis’, his fingers finding the button of his pants with skilled ease. “Gods, I want you all so bad…” 

“We know, Your Majesty…” Ignis whispered into his ear, as he got his pants down. He saw Prompto take over, and watched as he put his mouth right onto the King’s cock, the deep moan that Noctis released at the erotic touch had his own cock twitching with need. “Gladio - help me.” 

“You got it.” 

They got the rest of their clothes off, somehow, and then Ignis was buried in the tight heat of Noctis’ body, both of them moaning in tandem at being joined together again. He watched as Prompto moved his mouth off of Noctis, and instead put his hand on his cock, as he saw Gladio take him from behind. It felt good to be like this with one another, Ignis keeping a slow and steady pace as he didn’t want to rush this moment. No, there was plenty of time on this trip to have some rushed sex, but right now was not that time. Right now, they needed to remember why they were all together, and why it was important to carry the connection they’d formed in rebuilding Insomnia together back to where they all grew close to one another twelve years ago. 

The tent was soon filled with the musk of their love making, all four bodies close together as they moved as one. It was electric - a true coming home for the four of them as they all reached their peak within moments of one another. He could feel Noctis shaking against his body, but in a way that he knew there was no concern. Gentle kisses to his shoulder helped to calm him down, as he listened to Prompto kiss the King with soft kisses to his lips. He saw Gladio kissing Noctis’ fingers - or rather, licking them clean of the spunk that Prompto had left behind as the King had brought him to an orgasm. Ignis took Prompto’s hand and offered the same retribution, licking the cum that stuck between the blond’s fingers, loving the taste that was Noctis. 

A few position changes, and then they were back at it - this time with Noctis taking Prompto, who was now inside of Gladio, with his cock now buried inside of Ignis. It was breathtakingly perfect, and Ignis couldn’t have been happier to be the end of this successful train - all three of his lovers worked together to bring him the best pleasure, which made him moan in delight. Their orgasms were more swift this round, which no one complained about, as it felt perfect, as it always did. 

Clean up was quite the task, but after years of practice, it was easy. Ignis looked at Noctis, who was putting his clothes back on. “You’re going to go fish?” 

“For a bit.” Noctis nodded, then looked over at Gladio and Prompto, who were both dozing peacefully. “You want to join me?” 

“I would.” He put his clothes back on, and followed Noctis out to the dock. 

Stars filled the sky, the galaxy looking more beautiful out here with minimal light pollution. It had been ages since he’d seen the sky like this, and again - another wave of nostalgia hit him hard. He watched Noctis cast his line, and gave obligatory claps whenever he caught a fish - which was often. 

They left the caught fish in the cooler, Ignis thinking about what he would cook in the morning. “We really need to come out and do this more often.” Noctis whispered, as they got settled in for the night. Early morning was more accurate, but Ignis wasn’t going to address semantics on it. “I love being out here.” 

“You have a kingdom to run.” He reminded him, chuckling softly as Noctis clung to his body. “But yes - we’ll see about taking more of these excursions in the future.” 

“Thank you, Ignis.” 

“You are welcome, Noctis.” He kissed him on the lips, then watched him fall asleep with a smile on his face. It was nice to see the King truly relax, happy that they were able to achieve this for him. 

The rest of the week flew by faster than any of them would like. After a quick stop off back at Hammerhead, they were driving back to Insomnia, the city looking beautiful but he could feel a sense of sadness in the car. Looking at his lovers, he offered them a smile. “We had a nice vacation. I propose we do this again in two weeks, but for the weekend only.” 

That seemed to cheer everyone up. “You mean it?” Prompto asked, the enthusiasm returning to his voice. “Can we??” 

“Why not?” He shrugged his shoulder, and looked at Noctis through the rearview mirror. “What does the King think?” 

“I think that’s a great idea.” Noctis smiled, and nodded his head. “Every two weeks, we’ll go visit a haven. Doesn’t have to have fishing nearby. It’ll be fun.” 

“Sounds like a great idea, Your Majesty.” Gladio agreed, his face lit up with a smile. 

“Then, I’ll put it on our calendars once we’re back.” 

“Alright!” Prompto cheered. 

They returned to their life back in Insomnia, all a little bit happier than they had been prior to their recent adventure. Yes, it was going to be a good idea to keep this tradition going, as it was clear the four of them needed that escape from reality. Ignis looked forward to their next trip, already planning on where the four of them would go next. As long as they were together - that was all that really mattered. 

[terrusw-blog]

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[xialing-gf]

sugar and spice (rosa diaz x reader)

3rd installment in my songfic series

Summary: (based on the song Sugar and Spice by vverevvolf) you didn’t believe gina when she said that rosa was your type, but maybe gina was right after all

Wc: 1503

Playlist  (listen while you’re reading this fic!):

♖Sugar and Spice by vverevvolf

♖True Love is Violent by Allie X

♖Dive by Coast Modern

♖Last of the Real Ones by Fall Out Boy

♖Off the Record by Will Jay

You hadn’t been to Shaw’s Bar in ages and it seemed like only Gina and Jake came here often. This bar, according to Gina, was the 99th precinct territory and held many memories dear to the team. You had trouble staying in touch with your old high school friends but Jake and Gina had played such an important role in your adolescence that you simply couldn’t forget them. Also, they happened to also be in New York so it was rather convenient for you to meet up with them.

Tonight, Gina invited you to get a drink at Shaw’s and you were suspicious as to why she called the meeting. Knowing Gina, she always had some sort of ulterior motive behind her plans. Surprisingly, she was only five minutes late to the bar, which was twenty-five minutes earlier than she had been last time.

“Gina! It’s been so long! How’s everything? How’s Jake?” You greeted Gina with a warm hug, feeling familiarity wash over your mind. It was almost as if you both were meeting at high school again instead of hugging as adults with jobs. Time did really pass as quickly as adults claimed it did.

“I’m good. I have a daughter now, Jake is engaged with Amy, and Lady Gaga had a killer performance at the Super Bowl Halftime show, you know, the usual. Anyways, enough about me, what’s up with you, girl? Still single? What’s your new job again?” Gina nonchalantly asked, leaning against bar casually, scanning over the new drink menu skeptically. You couldn’t help but grin at the usual flair Gina brought with her when she dropped the news. As shocked as you were, you weren’t surprised at how calm she seemed (possibly because she now believed she understood her future after hiring a fortune teller).

“Congratulations! For both the baby and the Jake and Amy news. My new job is at the bank on the corner of 8th street and yes, I’m still single. Why do you want to know if I’m still single?” You eyed her suspiciously, waiting for her to reveal her ulterior motive for inviting you to the bar.

“Perfect! Not about the bank part. Nobody wants to date a banker; it’s like dating a human ATM. No wonder you’re single. But don’t worry, you won’t be for long. Let me introduce you to your future girlfriend. Give me a second, I need to pull up the powerpoint,” Gina swiped through her phone for a couple seconds before pulling up a powerpoint and presenting it in present mode, propping her phone horizontally against the napkin holder. “Allow me to introduce you to Rosa Diaz. She’s one of the best detectives in the precinct. Rosa’s, like, really badass but she’s perfect for a nerd type like you.”

You feigned an insulted look when she said “nerd type” and Gina rolled her eyes, swiping through the powerpoint to a slide with Rosa’s face on it. Gina was right; Rosa seemed really intimidating with her leather jacket, dark lipstick, and intense glare. Gina continued on with her presentation, “You see, Rosa just broke up with her fiance and it sucks to see her alone because now all she does is break stuff instead of making out her old part-time stoner, part-time serial killer boyfriend.”

“Serial killer? Gina, you’re really making me question your judgment,” You shook your head teasingly as you took a sip out of your drink.

“Y/n, honey, you gotta trust me on this. Remember that time everybody thought Michael would be the MVP of the high school football team and Justin ended up as the MVP? Who was the only one who saw that coming? Let me give you a clue: starts with a Gina, ends with a Linetti,” Gina tilted her head, giving you her classic judgemental, hawk-like look.

“Sorry, I forgot. Gina knows best,” You smiled as she nodded approvingly, gesturing for you to continue. “But I don’t know if I can fully trust you when it comes to relationships. Remember that girl you set me up with last time? The date went horribly.” “In my defense, I didn’t know Cindy studied philosophy. I thought she studied psychology and psychology majors are usually good dates because they know how to trick you into falling in love,” Gina turned her palms upwards, shrugging her shoulder as if to additionally convey ‘how was I supposed to know?’.

“If you only came here to try to convince me to get with Rosa, I’d better leave. My love life isn’t exactly my priority,” You winced internally at the bluntness of your comment, but you didn’t enjoy when people pried at your love life.

“Sorry about pushing you, girl. I’m just worried about you. If you don’t date somebody soon, you’re gonna die alone in a sad, lonely apartment. Anyways, if you don’t want me to talk about your love life, I’ll stop,” Gina sighed in defeat, turning off her phone. You asked Gina about her daughter and you two talked for a while, enjoying yourselves over a couple drinks. While you hadn’t mentioned it to Gina at the time out of fear that she would bring Rosa up again, you couldn’t help but think about how you’ve always wanted a badass, secretly soft girlfriend and Gina had found you the perfect match.

~

As much as you wanted to prove Gina’s ideas about being a banker wrong, some days at the bank were really unbearable. There were days where work seemed scarce and today was one of those days. You didn’t really have a high-ranking job at the bank and even though you were one of the most hardworking people in the bank, older bankers still doubted your efficiency and reliability, therefore offering you less work than you wanted.  

You were reviewing a couple transfer approvals when a guy in plaid caught your attention. Everybody who entered the bank tried to make themselves seem as formal and business-like as possible, even if they were in a casual outfit, but this guy didn’t seem to care about his impression at all. He was languidly standing aside from the small line of people waiting to deposit cash and staring at a poster about managing mortgages.

The chill that ran down your spine led you to walk out from behind the tellers’ counter and into the main lobby, trying to act as if you had a purpose for leaving the counter. Although the person didn’t glance your way, you kept up the act in case he decided to turn around. As you set the transfer approval documents on Celeste’s desk, checking your watch absentmindedly as if you were waiting for her to arrive. You knew that she was out of office on her extended lunch break, which included an extra hour for her to shop online at Starbucks, and thought your status as a ‘newbie’ would make it easy to feign surprise at Celeste’s routine.

“NYPD! Hands up in the air!” You heard a voice shout as the doors swung open, a squad of heavily armored and armed police barging into the bank. The guy in plaid looked like a bird had just swooped down and flew off with his hat and he turned around, searching frantically for an exit. His eyes landed on the door right next to Celeste’s desk and made a beeline for it. He underestimated the role you played as a civilian as you instinctively picked up Celeste’s chair and smacked him in the torso with it.

The guy collapsed onto the floor as police surrounded him, turning him on his back to capture his wrists in handcuffs. A tall policewoman with a leather jacket and dark lipstick walked over to you, “Hey, that was a pretty cool move. Have I met you before? You seem familiar.”

“You’re Rosa Diaz! Gina told me about you,” You smiled affectionately when Rosa’s indifferent expression molded into one of exasperation at the mention of Gina.

“Of course she would. It was nice meeting you. I should probably go. See you around,” Rosa started to walk away but you quickly grabbed onto her wrist. Her head snapped back towards you and she seemed to tense up immediately. You took that as a sign of discomfort and let go, backing off a bit.

“Sorry about that. I was just wondering if you wanted to maybe grab a drink with me tomorrow night at Shaw’s?” You asked, feeling a bit awkward about asking a girl out for the first time in ages. Rosa’s hardened expression softened for a split second before she regained her steely expression that had an affectionate undertone to it.

“Sure. See you then,” Rosa’s lips curled up at the end of her statement before she turned around to conceal her growing grin. You shouldn’t have doubted Gina for one second because maybe fate did play a role in deciding your future. From now on, you could qualify that “Gina is always right” was a valid statement.

~

this was my first time writing a brooklyn 99 fic! i recently got into this amazing show :) i hope i didn’t do too horribly

read the rest of the fics in my songfic series under the tag #sam’s songfic series

[artificialqueens]

Beneath the Amber Moon, Part 5 (Galactica AU Group Fic) – TheDane & Veronica

Heyyy!! Welcome to Part 5 of “Beneath the Amber Moon,” a group fic set in the Galactica Universe. Click here for previous chapters.

We hope you’re enjoying it! Let us know what you think!

Summary: Day 4. All aboard for champagne wishes and caviar dreams...

/////

Fame looked out on the deck of the superyacht, pride momentarily filling her chest. Everything was perfect, from the precisely iced champagne to the decadent crackers with caviar to the hand plucked organic strawberries and the almost naughty pure chocolate cake she had selected for dessert. Fame had even saved an outfit for the occasion, her new Hermes set in white linen and the lovely goose egg sized sapphire earrings Patrick had given her sending just the right vibe of chic, without it being overdone and redundant.

Bianca looked as she always did, and while Fame was a little disappointed, it was also fully expected that Bianca hadn’t dressed up. Her friend boarded in what she always chose for any tropical adventure, a bright patterned caftan that was almost insulting with its colors.

The waiters handed out champagne, and Bianca took a sip, a smile playing on her lips. Karl had gotten the memo, the man showing up looking like he had just stepped out on the beach on the French Riviera, Sutan and Violet also looking appropriately done up. Fame hadn’t known what she had expected from Violet on the trip, the black haired woman never great company. Even though she was amongst the people Fame generally favored, on this trip she could just as well have been invisible.

Alaska and Jinkx showed up next, Jinkx looking radiant in a red bathing suit that was both age appropriate, and that matched perfectly with her sarong and the delightful emerald on her hand. Alaska was also decked out, the blonde wearing more and more jewels, but unlike Raven, Alaska had a sense of taste and Fame congratulated herself once again on hiring Alaska back when she had been nothing but a just out of college mess. Alaska had grown up to be beautiful, and while Raja and Raven walked on, kids in tow, Fame to give Raven that she was beautiful, that had never been up for discussion, but the Russian was practically dripping with jewels, her lilac getup clearly there to show off her tan and the body that once again looked physically flawless, having spent hours with a trainer.

“Welcome, welcome.” Fame smiled, Juju and Detox of course arriving second to last, but Fame had gotten used to it. Life with kids really seemed so dreadfully inconvenient. “Please treat yourself to the spread!” Fame gestured at an array of luxury treats flown in for the cruise.

Fame heard Karl snort, and she barely kept from rolling her eyes. She was happy she had picked some of the more attractive male staff for the cruise, Karl somehow becoming even more of a man-eater after Sutan had moved to Paris, which didn’t make sense, but who she to judge.

“I can’t wait to spend two days in total luxury with my dearest friends to celebrate, well, me!” Fame smiled, her eye catching on Adore who looked like her usual mess, Courtney on her arm, and Fame sighed, accepting that Adore’s favorite accessory was there as well.

After a toast, Fame took everyone on a grand tour, making sure they knew where the various bars and lounges were, the beautiful guest suites where they’d be sleeping, the wave pool and jacuzzis, the sauna and spa, the movie theatre and library. She directed Raja and Raven’s nannies to the large, colorful playroom outfitted with everything the kids could possibly want, including a wide array of child-friendly snacks and their own personal steward. Julia and Owen immediately voiced their resounding approval, shooing their parents from the room so that they could go nuts.

Fame led the rest of the group back to the breakfast spread on the upper deck. Juju (who procured a phone from her bra the moment Fame looked away, an emergency going on at her salon) and Violet set up camp in one of the interior lounges. Fame had gotten used to Violet’s sour disposition, the poor girl still looking like she wished she was anywhere but in Brazil. She let them be, noting to one of the stewards to be sure to check on them often.

/////

Courtney took a deep breath. She didn’t want to round the corner, but she knew she had to. It wouldn’t do at all to keep avoiding Bianca’s friends, and so she steeled her nerves and walked out onto the sun deck.

“Well well well, what have we here!” Sutan whistled, looking at Courtney in her golden bikini. “If you don’t mind me stating my professional opinion Miss Act, you’re looking like fucking perfection. Karl, have you seen her ass?”

Karl pulled down his sunglasses, straightening his back a little. “She has cleaned up quite nicely.”

“... Thanks?” Courtney offered a wary smile, letting Karl catch her by the hand and pull her into a lounger beside him.

“Something’s different about your face, too.” He studied her intently for a moment before snapping his fingers. “You’re not overplucking your eyebrows anymore. You look a million times better. An inspiration. Have you had your ass measured lately?”

Sutan laughed, pushing Karl. “Save that for Milano, my friend.” Sutan moved, sitting at the foot of Karl’s lounger and handing Courtney a nearby glass of champagne Karl was drinking. He himself was having a bottle of beer.

“How do you feel about Asia?” Karl asked.

“Uh...Free Tibet?”

“No, for work!” Sutan laughed. “You’re basically every marketing department’s wet dream right now. Look at you. You’re bright, bubbly, the all-American-”

“Australian, remember?”

“-Dream, a mature mind in the body of someone who’s so healthy they practically glow.” Sutan smiled. “How do you feel about partial nudity?”

“You would be perfect.” Karl took a sip of his champagne. “The market is oversaturated with garbage from Russia right now.”

“Hey!”

Karl laughed, raising his glass to Raven in the jacuzzi. “It’s a fashion catastrophe waiting to happen. Global warming is kicking in, but instead of CO2, it’s 14-year-olds from Eastern Europe getting fucked by their managers and being dumber than dirt.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Raja looked at them in confusion. “Why haven’t I heard of this?”

“America is so last year sister dearest.” Sutan smiled. “Haven’t you heard? Asia is the place to be if you want to make serious buck.”

“As I’ve been telling everyone for years, but no, we only start believing me when Sutan moves to Paris to follow his dick.”

“I think what Karl is trying to say, very unsuccessfully,” Sutan rolled his eyes, a smile playing on his lips. “Is that there would be incredible career opportunities for you right now in Asia. Judy Hua from China has sent feelers out about a face for her newest collection, and someone like you could-”

“Judy Hua? Courtney is a Guo Pei girl if there ever was one. Act, don’t you even dare consider signing with Elite. They’re a terrible agency.”

“Terrible? We’re the best in the business.”

“Just because you write something, doesn’t mean it’s true.”

Courtney sat back, slightly overwhelmed. This was the most attention she’d ever gotten from either man, and she wasn’t exactly sure how she felt about it. On the other hand, they were both very good at their jobs, both clearly with business on the brain, so maybe she should be listening to them.

Sutan laughed. “Excuse me, what agency discovered and represented Cindy Crawford, Raven Petruschin, Linda Evangelista, Iman, Raja Gemini and Naomi Campbell?”

“You can’t name your own sister.”

“Oh, what’s the sound of that? That’s the sound of you having a 20% transfer rate last season.”

Karl rolled his eyes, turning to Courtney. “If you ever feel like making money off of those 32B’s, don’t go with him.”

“... How do you know my cup size?”

“A lucky guess.” Karl smiled, his eyes glinting with delight.

“Secret of the trade Courtney darling.” Sutan swept in, clearly sensing her discomfort. “Any agent worth their salt has to be able to guess that you’re 5’5, have Swedish or Danish somewhere in your bloodline, maybe mixed with just a little bit of Spanish-”

“Portuguese, how did you-”

“See.” Sutan smiled. “It’s not really that hard.” Sutan looks her up and down. “You’re... What would you say Karl? 115?”

“115- or actually. Courtney. Flex please.” Courtney did as requested, and Karl laughed. “No my man, that’s 117 of Supergirl-made muscles.”

Bianca strode over, hand on her hip, having walked in on only the tail end of the conversation, but already irritated by it.

“Hey!” she barked. “Will you two fuckheads stop objectifying her?”

There was a brief pause, and then everyone - Karl, Sutan, Raja, and Raven, burst out laughing, mocking Bianca mercilessly.

“You fucking hypocrite!”

“Sorry for stepping on your toes, there, B!”

“I guess you’re the only one allowed to objectify pretty blondes, eh?”

“We’re not trying to fuck her, for Christ’s sake…”

Bianca glowered, not quite willing to admit the grain of truth in what they were saying. Courtney was the only one not laughing, meeting Bianca’s eyes and giving her a sympathetic smile. And maybe the look went on a little too long, because Bianca began to feel that familiar tingling, finally breaking off the eye contact.

Courtney bit her lip. And when Bianca pulled off her caftan to reveal a sexy, figure-hugging black one-piece, she inhaled sharply. Fuck, she looked good.

“Court! Come here, boo!”

Courtney looked up to where Adore was calling her, scrambling to her feet and hurrying over, relieved for the interruption, muttering, “Thank god…”

Bianca watched her go, a twinge of regret in her belly.

“Happy now? You scared her off,” Bianca said, and Sutan laughed.

“Come on, B, you must get where we’re coming from. That girl is a gold mine.”

“You’re gross,” Bianca grumbled, leaning back in her chair.

“It’s literally our job to scout talent, Bianca. You just do it for fun,” Karl teased.

“True. Why don’t we just parade a bunch of girls in front of you two assholes and you can rate them on marketability?”

“Know what?” Sutan said thoughtfully. “That’s actually not a bad idea…”

/////

“Do you need any help?”

Juju looked up from her phone, surprised at the gentle tone of Violet’s voice.

“You seem anxious.”

Juju smiled, Violet’s concern so kind. Violet did look a little better, but Juju’s mother's heart had a hard time not worrying about her. If it wasn’t for Sutan’s reassurance, and the pictures she had seen of Violet’s work in Paris, she would be genuinely concerned for the girl.

“My holiday replacement just messed up our orders.” Juju sighed. “It landed in New Jersey of all places and my entire staff has their thumbs up their ass, so now I have to find a courier.” Juju blew a bit of her hair aside, the strand falling into her face. “For such an expensive resort, you’d think their wifi at sea would be better.”

“I still know the number to a great courier company.”

“You do?”

“Mmh.” Violet reached out, holding her hand open. “I can call them if you want?”

Juju gave Violet her phone, a bright smile blossoming on her face. “You’re a lifesaver, Violet.”  

/////

“Come here, Gracie!” Alaska cooed, holding out her arms, waiting for Grace to go down the slide.

Jinkx sat nearby with Owen and Julia, patiently teaching them how to fold an origami balloon while simultaneously playing peek-a-boo with Tanya in her nearby high chair. Isolde was wandering around the room unsteadily, trailed by her nanny.

Alaska strolled over with Grace in her arms, bending down to kiss Jinkx on the top of the head.

“Auntie J, is this right?” Julia held up her origami, and Jinkx nodded.

“Yeah, looks great! Just make sure you get the corner sharp…” she pressed down, showing Julia how to make the crease.

“No! Isolde! NO!” Owen yelled as a chubby little hand reached out to grab his paper crane, stuffing it into her mouth. Her nanny scooped her up apologetically, the sound of her shrieks echoing off the walls of the playroom. Her screaming set off Tanya, who began to wail out of either sympathy or competitiveness.

“We can make another one,” said Jinkx, seeing Owen’s lip quivering, giving him a reassuring hug. “Look, let’s use this cool blue striped paper!”

“Those babies are very naughty,” Julia explained to Jinkx, who smiled.

“They’re still learning,” Jinkx said. “I’m sure someday they’ll be as wonderful as you guys.”

Julia raised an eyebrow, the move so like her mother that Jinkx almost burst out laughing.

“Maybe,” she said, and Jinkx grinned.

“I guess we’ll see.”

/////

Adore let out a frustrated groan, peering through the glass at her girlfriends in the playroom.

“What’s wrong?” Courtney asked her.

“I’m so conflicted. Cause I really wanna play with those legos but I don’t want to make Alaska start awwwing again about how good I am with children.”

“You’re not that good with children,” Courtney said. “It’s just that you are a child.”

“Yes! Exactly! Thank you…” Adore sighed. “Why does that room look so fun? Omigod they have mini pizzas. I’m so jeal.”

“I mean, we could play with the kids and eat mini-pizzas...or, we could go to that empty bar over there and drink mimosas and I can tell you about how I almost jumped Bianca’s bones a few minutes ago.”

“Yes! Let’s do that!” She wrapped her arms around Courtney’s waist and pulled her, giggling, into the bar.

/////

“Wow!” Raven let out a gasp of delight as they disembarked from the yacht. An absolutely stunning private beach lay ahead, with what Raven could tell even from afar was an elaborate lunch spread set up for them. She took Violet’s hand, excited that the younger woman was finally joining them, thrilled to have the chance to catch up with her. They had barely seen each other on the trip so far, which Raven had every intention of making up for. Fortunately, Raja and the nannies were handling her girls, which left her free to enjoy the afternoon, and her friends, and the warm sunshine.

“Fame! This looks marvelous!” Raven called, and Fame turned back to her, beaming.

“Just a little light lunch,” she said with a wink. “A meal amongst friends.”

Raven laughed, clearly seeing the various stations with chefs in white coats standing by to cook food to order.

“Yes, of course, just a casual little beach picnic.”

Violet let out a small giggle, shaking her head, and Raven grinned at her, the sound making Raven’s heart clench.

“What looks good to you, Vi? Ooh, look, he’s ready to grill fresh fish for us! Don’t you like Butterfly fish?”

“I do.”

“Uuh, there’s stuffed crab shells too!” Raven pulled Violet with her, Violet’s hand gripping Raven’s tighter and tighter. “Don’t worry, I’ll order for you.”

Violet nodded, thankful that her brief panicked grip of her friend's hand had been read if she was worried about ordering, when she was truly struggling to not vomit everywhere. Raven started piling their plates, Violet once in a while pointing at something Raven made the waiter staff add. The two women found a place near the water, Violet not touching the fish Raven had picked out for her, the scent of the fish making her even more nauseous than the seaweed from the day before, but she kept her lips tightly together, not wanting to ruin the moment. However, Violet didn’t need to worry, Raven not even noticing as she chatted away, happily filling Violet in on everything that had happened since the last time they had seen each other.

/////

“Is there something on my face?”

Raja looked over at Karl, touching her cheek since her friend had been watching her with a wry smile the entire lunch. Raja had both twins on her lap, Tanya making her way through a plate of mangos with the determination only a toddler could have, while Isolde needed help with the tiny bites of chicken Raja had been able to find in the buffet. It was glorious to spend this much time with her babies, Raja often missing entire days of the twins’ lives if they weren’t already up when she went to work.

“Don’t worry.” Karl smirked. “You’re handling motherhood much more gracefully than Juju did.”

“Oh shut up.” Raja laughed. Juju had been a mess for the first few years after Kelly had been born, but there was a world of difference of being a mother in your early 20’s, to having your first baby at 44. Raja had expected Karl to look away, to go back to whatever he was doing, he and Patrick sitting next to each other and often getting into the longest debates about the stupidest things, but this time, Karl continued watching her.

Raja was used to her friend’s attention, though it had grown to become less and less as they got older. The man used to stare at her, unashamed, in a way he had never looked at Sutan when they were most alike. Raja had worn her hair like her brother for a few months years and years ago, and in that period they had even made out a few times when Karl was particularly drunk. Raja had done it for the fun of utterly messing with a friend, the thrill of gaining leverage she knew she could use later, while Karl had moaned Sutan’s name against her lips.

“It’s your own hair, right?”

Raja smiled, flipping her long grey locks over her shoulder. “What are you planning, Mr. Westerberg?” Raja’s hair was indeed her own, and it was a matter of pride for her. Raven loved it as well, her wife almost caring more about the health of Raja’s hair than her own.

“Just wondering if you ever get tired of motherhood and work.” Karl took a bite of his food, Raja barely catching the piece of mango that fell from Tanya’s mouth, the little girl stuffing her cheeks way too tight. “It must be so boring to be stuck in an office all day.”

“Unlike you?” Raja smiled, giving Tanya a glass of water. “You’re not being very subtle right now.” Karl was clearly fishing for an answer to whenever or not Raja would ever return to modeling, and she could see why. There had been a recent upswing in older models, the weight of someone like her wearing jewelry or modeling a handbag, even selling cosmetics in the pages of a magazine giving the brand depth and dependability that a 16 year-old face simply could not provide.

“Would you consider it?”

“For the right price.” Raja smirked, knowing fully well that if she even considered accepting, she’d have a wife that would go ape shit, Raven still far from over her days of throwing plates and destroying vases if she was provoked enough. “Court me, and we’ll see.”

“I just might.”

/////

“Having fun?” Sutan put his hand on Violet’s lower back, his girlfriend sitting at the bar, sipping at a ginger ale, which made Sutan pause for a second, Violet usually only favoring the beverage if she was feeling exceptionally under the weather. “Hey, are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fine.” Violet smiled, but Sutan swore he could hear a tiredness in her voice.

“Do you need something?” Sutan pressed a kiss against her hair, the faint scent of lavender calming the worry that was gnawing in his stomach. “I don’t want-”

“I just felt nauseous. It’s already passing.” Violet leaned into his side. “I’m a big girl, remember? I know my limits.”

“Sure you do.” Sutan ran a hand through Violet’s hair, enjoying the closeness.

“Don’t be an asshole.” Violet smiled, though they both knew Sutan was right. “I’m going to go back to the boat.”

“To lay down?”

“To get the sketches I made for Courtney.” Violet had stayed awake for most of the night, working away, the woman pulling pencils and paper from places Sutan hadn’t even imagined they could fit when he had seen her overpacked suitcase, the pile of magazines and clothes taking up all the space.

“Do you want me to go with you?”

“I’m good.” Violet stood up, giving him a brief kiss. “Thank you.” Sutan wanted to protest, but Violet had already left, heading for the dock in her flat summer sandals.

Sutan sighed, rubbing his head. He knew that he shouldn’t worry, but he couldn’t help but feel a little bad about dragging Violet to this humid climate that so obviously didn’t agree with her. However, she had said she was fine, so he would have to trust her. Sutan grabbed another beer and a cocktail from the tray and walked over to sit down beside Bianca.

“I got you a refill.”

Bianca looked up, puzzled.

“Are you trying to get me drunk? Because I don’t think I need to tell you that you’re barking up the entirely wrong tree.”

“God no,” Sutan laughed, pushing the drink closer to her. “So about that panel thing...”

“Are you seriously still thinking about it?”

“It’s not a bad idea.” Sutan smiles.

“Pffft…”

“I’m serious! Like, a model search but with professional critiques?” Sutan said.

“Like in malls? Do those still exist?”

“No! It’s not that- I don’t want it to be like the Elite competition. I always thought that was shit anyway.”

“Fun coming from one of their all-time winners, huh?”

Sutan rolled his eyes. He’d had girls win more times than he could count, but even he knew that it was a bit of bullshit.

“I’m talking about the real deal, Bianca. A show that’s, that’s educating them, getting them booked, showing them what it takes to make it in the business? Like that other show you judge, umh, the one with the designers?”

“Project Runway?”

“Yes!” Sutan takes a swing of beer. “Like that! Project Runway for models, but without the shitty deadlines.”

“We’d need a better name, obviously. Something with models in it. Like, Supermodel.”

“We both know the supermodel died in the 90’s.” Sutan looks at Bianca. “What about.. Star model?”

“You’ve stayed in France too long. Star model, what a shitty fucking name. Even Top Model would be better.”

“Top model! Yes, exactly like that. America’s Next Top Model!” Sutan smiled, punctuating every word with a hand gesture. “I’m just saying Bianca. We could make a killer team, you and I, lend it some credibility.”

“We’ve never worked together on anything, ever.”

“How hard can it be? You have TV experience. And you just said yourself, I know how to pick them. Besides, you know I film well.”

“Debatable, but go on.” Bianca smiled, caught up in Sutan’s words.

“We sweet talk Jinkx, get the capital to shoot a pilot, find some actual brands, hire a few noteworthy photographers. We put them through the ringer - professional level shit, and see who rises to the challenge. Girls turn 18 every day, Bianca.”

“Who would even want to watch that?”

“Everyone who likes to watch gorgeous people suffer, so, essentially, everyone.”

“Hmmm...you’re sick, but you might not be wrong.”

“Cheers to that!” Sutan held up his beer bottle, clinking it against Bianca’s glass.

[cindydoll]

could you talk about bart and cindy? how his abuse affected her / her relationship with her family?

oH BOY CAN I!!!! buckle up kiddies it’s gonna be a bumpy ride!!!! (also i kinda stray in some parts but i was on a ROLL) also, fair warning, this is LONG

so, things start off rough right from the get go. as soon as cindy comes home with chris and cathy, bart is already enraged at the idea of cindy coming into their home. keeping in mind cindy is only two years old when she moves in with chris and cathy, one can argue she isn’t affected in the long term by things at this age, but i think logic and personal experience can say otherwise. despite her age, while she may not yet fully understand and comprehend the meaning of what bart says, she certainly understands and is affected by the tone he takes, as well as the facial expressions and other physical things that happen when bart is near cindy. she can tell, even at two years old, that this boy - this boy she grows up loving and admiring, and just wanting to please - wants nothing to do with her. 

‘“get her out of here!” he yelled, his face a red mask of anger. “take her away! put her in the grave with her mother! don’t want no sister’! i hate her, hate her!” […] then, while mom stood on looking too shocked even to breathe, dad reached to control bart, who jumped up to hit cindy! then cindy was crying[…]’

this is just on the first day. that scene alone is enough to make cindy aware of bart’s dislike of her, and to make her uncomfortable and weary around him. now, an awful lot of two year olds are at the age where they’re starting to talk and converse and understand what’s being said to them. and they remember an awful lot, for the first handful of years at the very least. cindy might not be able to fully understand and comprehend the words chris says right after sending bart to his room for this outburst, but cindy remembers bits of them until she is old enough to understand - not to mention the fact that bart most likely told cindy this at one point in time, knowing full well chris and cathy fought over adopting cindy. and this stays with cindy, always going the extra mile to make chris love her, to make sure she makes him proud. she’s always petting about him, and giving him some extra attention. logically, she knows chris loves her very much, especially after she’s been with them for a short period of time. but she can’t get it out of her head that he had said those words, that he had objected to wanting her, that she will always be trying harder than she has to with cathy.

‘[dad] gave my mother a chastising look. “now do you see why i objected to adopting cindy? you know as well as i that bart has always had a very jealous streak.”’

and speaking of cathy, cindy is competing against carrie and she doesn’t even know it. cathy is comparing cindy to carrie (as she later does with jory’s twins), and she goes her whole life feeling that something is missing from her. something that she can never quite put her finger on, but that this missing link is the key to having her mother’s complete love and adoration. the missing link is she’s not carrie - she’s nothing close to carrie. she resembles more of a younger carrie personality wise - cindy isn’t afraid to speak her mind and tell people what needs to be said - but she also knows when to be polite and not utter a word that will put her parents in dismay. she may resemble carrie as a toddler, but at the end of the day, cathy will still have to deal with the fact that cindy isn’t carrie, and carrie isn’t coming back. and bart, being the ever observant child that he is, no doubt eventually hears cathy mentioning the similarities of cindy to her beloved carrie, and will often rub it in cindy’s face whenever he gets the chance. and it stings all the more coming from bart.

‘“[…] as it is i have a little girl who seems so much like carrie to me.”’ -cathy

and then, when jory talks to cathy about bart’s nightmares, he let’s it be known that cathy is letting cindy take up too much of her time. cathy, who in the best of circumstances isn’t a very good mother, has been spending less time with her two (biological, mind you) kids, and spending more time (both mentally and physically) with cindy, or thinking about cindy, or trying to convince chris to adopt cindy. her spending less time with jory and bart is because of cindy, and this is something that bart especially holds against cindy. (i feel like jory would eventually let it go and come around, but he might also hold a little grudge against her, letting it affect their relationship for a number of years until he grows and matures more). 

‘[…] how could i tell her the truth? – that she was too taken up with cindy to pay attention to anyone else. and never, never should she give anyone more attention than bart. even me.’ -jory

bart, especially during his time where he was under the influence of malcolm, had ingrained it in his mind early on, while cindy was still only two, that she was a wicked, sinful girl. this here, especially from his influence with malcolm that stayed with him until christopher’s death, plays a huge part in how he not only looks and treats cindy, but all women (even cathy, during his darkest of times). during her entire life with chris and cathy, cindy is belittled and berated by part, he insinuates that she’s a slut and that all she wants is attention from any guy, even from other family members. this constant torment eventually leads to cindy sleeping with the vast majority of men she meets, even during her late teen years (which is just… no, i’ll talk about it but never write anything of the sort while she’s underage). she craves bart’s love and approval so badly that she lets these things get into her head, and she starts to believe them. and then she goes out to prove him right, and she also goes out to get that approval and love (just love in another form, cindy does not love bart more than a brother okay? okay) with anyone she meets. she only ever uses this self-destructive behavior with men. her relationships with women are always legit and healthy thank you very much. bart also blames cindy a lot for ruining his things, his life, his relationships. this first stems not only from his dislike of her, but because as a toddler she really would destroy his things - on accident, of course.

‘wicked little girl, that cindy. didn’t care who saw her naked. didn’t care who saw her sit on the potty. didn’t care about being decent or clean. took my toy cars and chewed on them.’ -bart

‘i could have slapped cindy when i heard her say silkily, “bart, darling, i was so sure you’d love this scarlet gown … since you think i’m a cheap, trashy thing, anyway, i’m just living up to your expectations – and playing the role you wrote for me.”’ -cathy

‘"have you forgotten all the nasty, mean things bart did to me? maybe i wasn’t locked up, starved or beaten, but i’ve had my problems, and don’t think i haven’t. bart makes me feel so unsure about my femininity that i have to test all the boys i meet … i just can’t help it.”’ -cindy

cindy later spends the vast majority of her childhood both afraid of bart, and trying to win over his love and affection. she knew something wasn’t right with him. she knew he was pretending to be a snake in the pool when he tried to drown her. now she was afraid of both bart and snakes, and for a while, she was afraid of water, too. she would wail and scream whenever she had to take a bath, and it took a lot of gentle coercing and love to get the deed done with. thankfully, after a while, she comes to realize she is safe with cathy, chris, jory, and emma around water and it comes to an end. but throughout her life, every time she looks into a pool, she sees in the reflection a young bart trying to drown a younger version of herself, and a quick flash of a current bart trying to drown her.

bart’s actions and attitude eventually started to bother not just everyone, but even cindy. while in bart’s presence, she found herself more often than not upset and in a bad temper. this started at a very young age, when she couldn’t help it as easily as she could in her teenage years. it made for hyped-up awkward family times together. this lasted up until after chris’ death, and as she got older, the more intense it got. at first it was just at mealtimes, and other times the family gathered together. then it on to become big events. all of christmas or thanksgiving, all of easter, graduations, etc.

‘it was a terribly awkward meal, with no one comfortable. appetites were small, and even cindy was cross.’ 

‘”no!” she’d shouted over the telephone, “i don’t care if he did send me an invitation! it’s just his way of showing off. he can put ten degrees behind his name and i still won’t admire or like him – not after all he did to me. explain to jory and melodie why, so their feelings won’t be hurt. but you won’t have to explain to bart. he’ll know.”’

cindy often fussed and worried over her looks. a part of her was just in her nature, and a part of it was because of the time bart decided to shear off golden locks while she was a child. for years, she would spend her time jumping at the sight of anything sharp, scissors, knives, broken pieces of glass or mirrors, etc. especially if they were in the hands of bart. even as an adult, she was extremely uncomfortable being around bart when such objects were near him. the event traumatized her in a way, and it led to her taking extra care of her hair as she entered her teenage years. for years, she would distrust any man with objects sharp enough to cut her golden curls of hair, even jory and chris, who she otherwise loved to make crafts with - a thing which because hard to do for nearly a year after the incident, because cindy would often run away and hide whenever the crafting scissors were in either of their hands.

‘all that pretty blonde hair that used to be cindy’s was blowing on the wind. […] now cindy’s hair looked like mine. stubby. short and ugly.’

cindy, as a very young child, becomes extremely untrusting of almost everyone around her. she trusts cathy and emma, in her own home, that’s all she can fully trust. she especially becomes untrusting of men, whether they’re children her own age or men in their 90′s. and not only is she untrusting. she grows up believing that people, especially men, will hurt her. this abusive behavior from bart might have something to do with cindy’s general dislike and lack of attention in males (aside from her using them in various ways), but really she’s very afraid of them and afraid they’re all going to hurt her like bart had hurt her over her lifetime. 

‘"look what [bart] did to cindy, a helpless child who trusts that no one will hurt her.”’ -cathy 

‘the pain in [bart’s] hard slap rocked cindy backward so that she sat down very hard on the second stair step. i heart the skirt of her red gown rip down the midback seam. […] tears came to [cindy’s] eyes.’ -cathy

‘playfully [bart] pinched [cindy’s] cheek. so playfully his pinch left a deep red indentation on her face. she squealed and kicked out. her high heel dug into his shin. he yelped and slapped her.’ -cathy

throughout the years, bart tried to ruin cindy’s relationships with the family, and even with emma. he was jealous of the amount of time everyone spent with cindy, was jealous that they would give cindy things, and he genuinely thought everyone loved cindy more than they loved him. (although i’m sure some did, let’s be real here). bart would lie, connive, scheme, and tell stories that shed someone in a negative light all in the hopes of changing their opinions of cindy, and to have cindy’s opinions change about the others. even as a child, after everything bart put her through, cindy knew enough to not trust bart or what he said. she took what he said with a grain of salt, and could only silently hope the others did as well. thankfully, despite his best efforts, cindy’s relationships with everyone stayed the same - flourished, even, because of the things bart said. he would even try and paint corrine in a negative light to little cindy, who had never even met corrine, just so he could have her memory, her love, to himself.

‘[[…]] cindy, who was sitting on jory’s lap and laughing as she played with some toy he’d given her. never gave me anything.’ -bart 

‘[[…]] “i hold no love at all for cindy. she’s done nothing but steal from me – and she isn’t even one of us.”’ -bart

bart’s actions had affected cindy so badly, that, despite cathy loving her with all her heart, it did get in the way of their relationship whenever bart was brought up or around. cindy knew full well that it hurt cathy that she wouldn’t have anything to do with bart the older she got, that she wouldn’t forgive him or forget everything that had happened long enough to have a good time when he was around. even with his absence, if his name was uttered, it was enough to set cindy off on a tyrant, and everyone knew it. she was the only one in the household who couldn’t - and wouldn’t - keep her mouth shut when it concerned bart. cindy knew it had to of hurt cathy (and chris), but she didn’t care enough to not say anything. and this reason here is why her relationship with cathy has a crack in it. cindy doesn’t care that cathy loves bart - on the contorary, she expects it from her. but she does care that cathy won’t accept her wishes to live a bart-free life. but it always hurt her when cathy took bart’s side, even when she knew she was in the wrong. and she would hold that against cathy for days at a time.

‘[[…]] it gave me additional pain to know that cindy couldn’t let go of her dislike of bart long enough to help him celebrate.’ -cathy 

‘"really, cindy, you can’t blame bart. this time you deserved a spanking.”’ -cathy

cindy uses her strong feelings against bart much to her advantage. she uses the rage that burns within her as strength to help propel herself forward. on top of her own pure ambition to achieve things, she uses the hatred to fuel her further, and she gets more accomplished than many others this way, much to everyone’s surprise. this is a habit she started (unknowingly, mind you) as a child, and during her early teenage years, when she realized what she was doing, she liked it and it’s advantages so well that she purposely kept at it. such is apparent after the dress fiasco at bart’s 25th birthday celebration.

‘"damn him to hell! i’ll show him! i’ll dance ten times better than melodie has ever danced! i’ll make every man at this party want me tonight, despite this deadly mousey gown you chose.”’ -cindy

sometimes, cindy couldn’t help but think bart had gotten to cathy, chris, jory, or emma about certain things. whenever the others criticized her or made any sort of comment on something that bart would often torment her about, a flash of horror and despair would wash over her, as she would convince herself for a few crucial moments that they were now taking bart’s side. no, not just taking bart’s side. that bart had been right all along. and that crushed her more than any of the others would ever know. in such small, simple ways, bart had managed to make such an impact on cindy and her relationships with her family members. did he even know?

‘"cindy, i wish you would wear those beach coverups at the poolside. and that suit is much too skimpy.” she appeared startled, crestfallen and hurt because i criticized her suit.’ -cathy 

‘suddenly bart was there, yelling at cindy. “you don’t have to stay. you’re just the bastard my mother had to have.” cindy blushed deeply red. “are you trying to hurt me again, jerk? you can’t hurt me now! i’m through with that!” “don’t you ever call me jerk again, bastard!” “creep, jerk, creep, jerk!” she taunted, backing up and dodging behind chairs and tables, deliberately baiting him to give chase, and in this way, give her dull day a bit of excitement. “cindy!” i stormed, furious now. “how dare you talk to bart that way? now say you’re sorry … say it!” “no, i won’t say it, for i’m not sorry!”’ -cathy 

‘"learn to keep your mouth shut.”’ -jory to cindy 

when bart enters into his affair with jory’s wife melodie, despite him barely having actual conversations with her, he (and his presence and his general attitude about things) manages to make melodie change her views of cindy. some of this is her depression over jory’s accident, but if bart wasn’t around, or even involved at all with her, cindy never would have been brought up, most can agree on. melodie can see how bart and cindy act around one another, she knows what they say when the other isn’t near. her opinions start to change, and it’s not in a good way.

it’s even apparent that bart’s relationship and time spent with joel has formed a negative opinion on cindy (as well as cathy, chris, and jory). despite cindy not being a blood relative, and it not being her fault about the incestuous relations throughout the family (that she isn’t even aware of, mind you), he still has a hatred of her, and one can only logically assume some of this is because of what all bart has told him of her.

bart has even affected cindy’s relationships with people outside of the family. friends, lovers, you name it. with lovers, he’s particularly fond of violence as her preferred method to ruin relationships.

‘"i was spoiled like you spoil your dear little cindy.”’ -melodie to cathy 

‘i can’t say i really care for joel. he seems very fond of bart, but he does nothing but criticize cindy. she can do nothing right in joel’s eyes, or in bart’s.’ -cathy 

‘"he’s ruined lance’s face, ruined it.” more than likely she was right. i had to teach bart how to hold back his rage. how terrible for such a good-looking boy to have his beautiful nose broken, to say nothing of his black eyes and many cuts and bruises.’ -cathy

this is good for now, this is by far no means everything, but i’ve tortured you enough if you’ve read all of this.

[goodproofingwater]

Wildfire Records - Chapter Six

Word Count: 4601

Playlist picks:

Jungle - Tash Sultana Summer Bummer - Lana del Rey ft A$AP Rocky I Like America & America Likes Me - The 1975 Press play when you see the *’s

Going from planning and putting together campaigns for something that she was so passionate about to sitting behind a desk and filing other people scout reports was soul destroying. At best she thought it an opportunity to keep an eye out for other bands that fieldworkers were passing up on, but she was finding it increasingly difficult to focus on these menial tasks when she would much rather be building more of their website.

The Facebook campaign that she had put together for the boys was performing well. They had 103 new monthly listeners on Spotify, and she knew that spending more time working the campaign would produce an even bigger result. They also needed to look into booking a string of gig across London to help promote them and Wildfire. Victoria was just looking at how much it would cost to print a banner to be put up behind the boys at their shows when Cindy appeared above her, the redhead quickly putting her phone facedown on the desk.

“Are you taking a late lunch?” Cindy spoke, fury in her eyes. This hadn’t been a good day for their manager - only one of the bands that her scouts had approved had been signed off by the senior director, and that meant that the big February push was no more than a nudge in the right direction.

“No, sorry I’ll put it awa—“

“You know, I’m really sick of you talking back to me.” Cindy snapped, and Juliet looked up from the paperwork she was working on at her tone. The entire floor had gone quiet as Cindy raised her voice, and Victoria clenched her jaw as she willed herself not to go red with embarrassment.

“I’m sorry I—“ Victoria started and Cindy placed her hands on her hips, shaking her head and laughing humorlessly.

“You are so fucking sure of yourself aren’t you? You sit here day after day with a face like a slapped arse, expecting me to give you assignments because you’ve been here for a few months, and then when I give you one you get pissed that I don’t sign them.”

The red mist formed over Victoria’s eyes, and she clenched her fists in her crossed arms, trying to take the berrading as best she could. This happened about once a month on this floor, except it was usually with one of the scouts that had messed up paperwork or had vouched for an artist that had sold barely 5000 units.

“Well listen up, sweetheart. It’s going to be a long time before you get actually trusted with an assignment, and even longer before you can make accurate decisions on music. Your taste is shit, your paperwork is shit and now it seems even your work ethic is shit.”

That was it. It was one thing to insult her, to vent frustration and pressure that had been put on her by her superiors but to call her work ethic shit when she had been working so fucking hard was a step over the line.

“You know what?” Victoria spoke, “I don’t have to sit here and take this.”

“Yes you do sunshine.” Cindy spat, watching in momentary shock as Victoria stood and leveled with her, the redhead's heels allowing them to be eye level with each other, “if you walk away from me now you’re fired.”

“You can’t fire me.” Victoria spoke, picking up her bag from the floor, “I fucking quit.”

The redhead through her bags strap over her shoulder, grabbing only her phone from her desk as she stormed toward the lift.

Tension clouded the room, many shocked and some even trying to stop themselves from nervous laughter.

“You’ll never work in this industry again, Sanderson.” Cindy almost yelled across the floor, and Victoria laughed

“Oh yeah? Watch me.”

And with that, the doors to fieldworks records closed to Victoria for the last time.

Josh had awoken relatively early that morning, and had already been to the gym with the boys when he received the text.

V: are you in?

V: can I come over?

His heart jumped a little when her name flashed up on the screen, the image he had saved as her contact photo making him smile. He had taken a screen grab from an instastory he had filmed when they had been drunk and she had been trying to force him to have another shot.

J: yeah sure - everything okay?

He tapped back quickly, probably too quickly, but was glad to see the three dots dancing around as she typed her response immediately.

V: not really

V: I’ll be there in 20 mins, line up those shots boy

His brow furrowed as he glanced at the time. He liked to party just as much as she did but it couldn’t be a good sign that she was talking about shots at 3pm.

True to her word, she arrived 20 minutes later, and Josh bought her up to the reception room where beers were waiting on the coffee table, a small tin resting next to them.

“So you gonna tell me why you were craving tequila at 3 in the afternoon?” He smirked up at her, opening the tin and revealing a half rolled joint, his nimble fingers working the papers so well that Victoria almost didn’t hear what he said.

She sighed, throwing her bag on one half of the corner couch before she grabbed the beer from the table and drank half of it in one gulp. Josh raised his eyebrows as his tongue ran along the paper, waiting for her to say something as he twisted it and formed it into something smokable. He was patting the bottom half of it on the coffee table when she finally spoke,

“I quit my job.” She let out a sigh as his brows raised once more, and she downed the rest of the bottle of beer. He was impressed that she could do so, but left that compliment for another time.

“What do you mean you—“

“Cindy started giving me shit because I was on my phone. I mean I was literally taking a break from staring at my computer because I had been working on spreadsheets all day.” She tipped the bottle to get the last dregs of her beer before she put it back on the coffee table. “And she started saying that I had shit taste and a shit work ethic and I just had enough. I wasn’t going to sit there and be spoken to like that when all I’ve done for the last 7 months is do her fucking grunt work.” She sighed and he passed her his own beer as he saw her move to go to the fridge.

“Here,” he smiled, nudging it toward her and closing the tin, placing the joint that he had rolled on top.

“It sounds like you did the right thing, you can’t let people shout at you like that.” He wanted to touch her but he wasn’t sure how, wasn’t sure how she’s would react to comfort when she was so wound up.

Piercing blue eyes met his own and he swallowed thickly, “you really think so?” She spoke, her voice smaller than he had expected from someone who was clearly so fired up.

“Yeah,” he stood up, walking to the kitchen to get another beer from the fridge, throwing the cap in the bin along with her empty bottle, “fuck working in an underpaid job with a manager like that, you deserve better.”

Victoria nodded, slowly at first and then more deliberately as his words sunk in. For now, she didn’t want to think about the consequences of her actions, didn’t want to think about finding a new job, she just wanted to calm down and forget.

He walked back over to the table, picking up the joint and nodded to the spiral staircase that sat smack bang in the middle of the room.

“Wanna come and smoke this with me? Figured you could use a distraction..” he smiled, and she slipped on her jacket and followed him up the stairs.

The terrace was gorgeous. Whitewashed stone flowed from the floor to the planter that lined the right side of it, the left’s planter black instead. There was a couch and two chairs, and the walls of the mezzanine that lead to the terrace were entirely glass so all light filtered through into the flat. There were pruned trees in the planters, trimmed in a way that Victoria could tell that there was a roof that extended from somewhere should it rain. Luckily although they were well into March now, there seemed to be no sign of spring showers and the warm sun had heated the couch they sat on.

“Thanks..” The girl started, watching as Josh lit the joint and trying not to focus on how gorgeous he looked doing it. She had always had a thing for the way guys looked when they smoked, the concentration and the way they clenched their jaw as flame met paper and Josh was no different. He took a long drag, letting it settle in his lungs for a moment before he shook his head,

“For what?” He took another drag and she crossed one leg over the other, sipping her beer as her eyes ran over the terrace once more.

“For listening to my bullshit and making me feel better..” she smiled, looking over at him and taking the joint from him. He was right, she needed a distraction, and there was nothing that mellowed her out like weed.

“Can’t have my label manager being down now, can I?” He grinned, and she let out a small laugh as she exhaled, the high already settling in her head and hazing her over.

“Woah…” she spoke, looking at the joint before she took another long inhale, talking on the inhaled breath “how did you get stuff this good when you don’t know anyone?”

He grinned, his eyes falling slightly hooded, his body relaxing into the couch and she could practically see the effect it was having on him.

“Andy has a dealer..” he spoke, licking his lips and she was all of a sudden very aware of how dry her mouth was. Still, she inhaled for a third time before she passed it back to him.

“Of course… glad that I wasn’t just being paranoid at my house the other day.”

Josh shook his head, picking up his phone and tapping his way through Spotify before Tash Sultana* drifted through speakers she hadn’t even noticed were there. The smooth beats ran through her body, the high making her feel more sensitive and numb at the same time. She was acutely aware of the breeze that pushed her hair over her eyes and the way his fingers wrapped around the joint as the cherry burned too bright for an afternoon.

“Yeah when he’s on a big night out he’ll jump right to the powder,” he shook his head, his tongue running along the inside of his parted lips, “I mean don’t get me wrong I don’t really care, but try being on stage with someone who’s done half a gram.”

A small laugh left the redhead but she was having trouble focusing on anything but his lips, did he always lick them that much?

Their eyes met as he took another drag, and she smiled softly as she enjoyed the music, her fingers dancing along the back of the sofa to each note.

“I love this song, it’s—“ her voice stopped in its track as she watched the smoke billow past his lips and into his nose, his eyes still on her as he waited for her to complete her sentence, but she had completely forgotten what she was going to say. His hooded eyes, his relaxed shoulders and the way his was looking at her brought back the feeling that she had gotten at Liverpool Street station, and she bit down on her lip as she forced herself back into the moment.

“How do you do that?” She whispered, and a smirk washed across his lips as if it had been his intention to throw her off. But surely not.

“Want me to teach you?” He smiled, moving closer to her and she nodded, crossing her legs in front of her and sitting straight to really pay attention. She took the joint from him and he moved so they were close enough for his knee to touch her own.

“Okay so when you inhale, don’t bring the smoke into your lungs. Let it sit in your mouth, and put your tongue at the back of your mouth to stop it flowing down your throat,” he spoke, and she nodded, inhaling but not taking it in.

“Now open your mouth slowly but don’t breath out, let it flow from your lips and push your tongue forward as you breathe in through your nose.”

This step did not go as well as the first. She opened her lips and moved her tongue too quickly, and then breathed in too fast. He couldn’t help but laugh, and she grinned at the sound, the feeling in her stomach spreading through her the longer she stayed in this moment with him.

“Not quite,” he grinned, taking the joint back and she mocked anger.

“Hey!” He grinned at her reaction, and inhaled deeply, letting smoke filter from his lips as if to tease the fact that she couldn’t do it. But before he could breathe it into his nose, she moved close enough that she could breathe it in herself, lips parted, half smirking and almost touching his own as she stole his high.

What had come over her? She had never been this bold, would never do something like that unless she was involved with someone, but something about Josh just got her heart racing. He was so kind, so easy to talk to, so caring and here he was trying to teach her to French inhale to distract her from her shit day when she had crossed a line. It was a good sign that he wasn’t pulling away, but he hadn’t reacted positively either. She would blame the weed. She always got turned on when she had a smoke and this gorgeous boy was doing wonderful things with his lips in front of her.

He looked up into her eyes as she remained close and exhaled the smoke back onto his lips, and holy shit was she the hottest thing he’d ever seen. He had already been struggling to come to terms with how he had felt after their day together, and now the feeling was only strengthened. She had a rough day, she was buzzed and she was just letting off steam but her lips were so inviting...

He was just about to close the gap between them when Andy walked through the door looking at his phone, a beer in his hand as he slumped down into one of the armchairs opposite them.

Victoria pulled back as she glanced at the redhead, swallowing thickly and taking the joint from Josh’s fingers with a small smile. Andy finally looked up at them when she was inhaling, his eyes running up and down her subtly as he watched the drug intoxicate her further.

“What are you doing here?” Andy spoke, “shouldn’t you be at work?”

Victoria shook her head, passing him the joint as he leaned over for it, the cherry almost burning his fingers as he sucked in the last of the THC, pressing the now spend joint into the ashtray on the coffee table between them.

“I quit..” she spoke, leaning back on the sofa and grinning at the words, her eyes falling to Josh who was smiling too, the weed fully immersed in their bloodstream now. And she began to laugh. The whole thing had been so crazy. This morning she had been ready for another day of the grind and now here she was in a bands penthouse smoking weed after telling her day job to fuck off.

Andy grinned at the two of them, pulling a small bag of weed and some papers from his pocket as he began to skin up again, determined to get on the level of the two in front of him.

By the time the three were done, Danny and Juliet had joined them and they were all sitting blazed on the terrace grinning from ear to ear. Summer Bummer by Lana del Rey* played through the speakers, and Victoria sat between Josh and Juliet on the couch, Danny in the other armchair next to Andy.

“You should have seen Cindy’s face when you left, it was a picture!” Juliet grinned, raising her beer bottle to her friend in respect, “she honestly didn’t know what to do with herself, she just told everyone to get back to work and went into her office for most of the day.”

Victoria grinned at the words, glad that something that had traumatised her a little had had a negative effect on the woman that had caused it. Although she began to panic as it settled in what she had done, that she would have to go back to a flat that she no longer had the income to pay for, and not have a job to go to in the morning.

Danny noted the change in her reaction and sat forward, “sounds like she got what she deserved if you ask me..” the curly haired boy smiled, and she offered a small one back, leaning into Josh as she felt his arm snake around her waist.

“Hey what’s wrong? Don’t go down now, you did a great thing!” He grinned, clinking his beer bottle with her own and she rested her head on his shoulder, doing everything she could to not think about the lead that was spreading through her veins the more she thought about how her life was about to fall apart.

“I.. how am I supposed to live.. like not to sound dramatic or anything but how do I pay rent?” She spoke, sitting up and glad for his hand remaining on her back and moving up and down gently.

“Don’t..” Andy spoke, flicking the ash from his cigarette into the ashtray, eyes meeting hers as he leaned forward.

“What?” She spoke, brow furrowing as she shook her head and watched him lounge back on his chair. She was about to snap back at him when he continued.

“Why don’t you guys just move in here” Andy's eyes glinted with nefarious intent for barely a second and he took another drag of his cigarette as Victoria’s head snapped to Juliet.

“What.. like both of us?” She spoke, and Victoria glanced around at the boys and it was clear that they hadn’t been consulted, that this was an off the cuff offer that Andy had seen as a viable solution and had not thought through for a second.

“Yeah,” he spoke, stubbing out the filter of his cigarette, the high and the three beers he had drunk forcing him to talk slower than usual, “I mean we’re serious about this record company right? So why don’t you both move in here, sublet your apartments and we have a steady monthly income? There are two spare rooms downstairs, we wouldn’t even have to do anything.” He shrugged, and Victoria was surprised at how much it actually made sense.

“Or…” Josh started, a jovial tone in his voice as he sat forward to be the voice of reason. As usual. “You could not do something crazy illegal and just move out. The guys at that record shop seemed to know you quite well, I'm sure they’d give you a job there for some income.” Josh shrugged and Danny looked between his friend and Victoria, a knowing smile on his face as he had been the one Josh had spoken to when he had come back from that non-date.

“You’ll move in too right?” Andy eyed Juliet with an attempt at flirtation that he knew wouldn’t work, “I know you’re still working but you could save on rent..”

“Sure,” Juliet spoke as if it was the easiest decision in the world, and Victoria couldn’t help the small laugh that slipped from her lips at how blasé she was about it, “I mean he’s right… and I saw a guy shooting up outside my building yesterday and hate my flatmates  so I’ll literally take any excuse.”

“He was what?!” Danny sat forward, concern washing over his features and it was almost automatic the way their hands met, his fingers squeezing hers in comfort and Juliet met his eyes. It was heartwarming to see how close they had gotten so quickly. It was like they had been waiting their whole life to meet each other.

“I mean..” Victoria started, smiling at Juliet, “this is crazy right?”

Juliet nodded, eyeing the people around her and wondering if it was a good idea to move in with four people that she had known for less than 3 months.

Victoria picked up her beer as she thought through the same dilemma, but she had moved to Shoreditch in a week with zero notice just so she could be closer to work - was this really that much different?

“So crazy it could work..” Juliet grinned, and Victoria bit her lip as she nodded,

“If you really want two girls cramping your style up in here it would be great..” Josh’s hand had moved from her back to pick up his beer and even he couldn’t believe that this was happening. Andy blurred out impromptu ideas like this all the time, but this was the first time it was actually making sense, “How much rent?”

“No rent. We’re not even paying rent, my dad owns this place. Move in whenever you want,” Andy grinned, “Wildfire records is gonna burn fucking bright, can’t have one of our managers worrying about where she’s gonna live and the other living in a crack house”

She grinned at him, wondering if she should have questioned more but if she had learned anything from the past couple of months it was that impulsiveness was a good thing. She just hoped that this situation would follow suit.

It was late when the majority of them descended the spiral staircase, Juliet and Victoria choosing to stay over but the latter not wanting to stop the party as Andy skinned up once more.

“Such a nice night..” she whispered, stretching out and enjoying air that was uncharacteristically warm for March.

“Mmm..” Andy hummed in agreement, his eyes running from her uncovered feet resting on the table and all the way up to the hem of her dress, “gorgeous.”

She watched the redheads deft fingers roll up the marijuana and tobacco cocktail, dark eyes meeting hers as he ran his tongue along the paper to seal it and she felt a shiver run through her. She could feel the tension radiating from him, the way he was looking at her made her heart race and she swallowed thickly before her head turned to Josh and the three bottles he had bought up from the fridge. 

“Thank you,” she smiled as he took his seat back next to her and passed her one of them. She drank deeply from the bottle when she knew she shouldn’t, and watched as Andy lit the joint, smoke clouding the space between them but making his eyes even darker. They sat in comfortable silence for a while, music drowning out the noises of busy London and Victoria couldn’t help but bite her lip as Josh french inhaled again. Eyes met hers and she let out a soft laugh, wondering if he realised how attractive he was.

“Wanna try again?” He grinned, passing her the joint and she shook her head,

“I much prefer my way…” she licked her lips and pressed the roach to her lips, Josh’s mouth suddenly dryer at the thought of what they tasted like. Was she talking about the way she inhaled? Or was she talking about what happened before they were interrupted? Either way, it was calming to watch her take a deep drag, her body relaxing more and more with each toke.

She had been so angry, then so anxious and now she seemed to be finally realising that everything might be okay. She just had to move in with people that she’d known for three months.

“Right losers, I’m gonna turn in..” Andy spoke, standing and taking the joint from Victoria and inhaling deeply before passing it back to her. “You know where you’re sleeping tonight, right?” He spoke, the question could have been innocent if it wasn’t for the quirk of the eyebrow and the THC running through their veins, and she bit her lip, nodding.

A cocky smirk graced his lips before he walked from the terrace to the mezzanine, waving at them with a confidence that never faltered.

“He wants to fuck you y’no” Josh almost slurred, eyes dancing over her features and settling on her lips for a moment too long.

She took another long drag, the cherry burning faster than it had done before and her eyes felt even heavier. “Mmm.. he’s not exactly subtle is he..” she chuckled, pressing the joint between his lips with two fingers and a lazy smile as she rested her head on his shoulder.

“Subtle like a brick to the face” He grinned, and she slipped an arm around his, chuckling at his words as the music changed again*, 1975’s electronic harmony’s making the air feel like it was buzzing

“Subtle like a gun to the head,” she mirrored his smile, and he took a long drag as he chuckled, the soft breeze washing over them, the plants in the planter rustling softly and adding a layer to the music that he didn’t know could sound so good.

“Subtle like a sledgehammer” He exhaled, and he felt her weight change on him, her breathing heavy and even. He took one long toke before leaning forward gently, pressing the roach to the ashtray as he exhaled. He wanted to get that last hit, but he mainly needed to force himself to breathe. She looked so beautiful asleep on his shoulder, her arms gripping him as if she never wanted to let go. And maybe he didn’t want her to.

He allowed the song to finish as he finished his beer, dozing in and out of sleep as her breath lulled him into an almost hypnotised state. Half an hour later he forced himself to move if only for his leg threatening to fall asleep with her.

He moved her softly and moved an arm under her shoulders while the other slipped under her knees, and he slowly carried her down the spiral staircase, down the next flight of stairs and into the bedroom next to his own.

As he lay her down, her eyes flickered and he thought he was going to be able to see those sea blue hues once more. But no such luck. She turned in the bed as he pulled the blankets over her, and couldn’t help but smile as he watched her curl up and whisper, “J…”

Moving from the side of her bed, he switched off the light and went to bed wondering if he would ever get to hear her whisper her nickname for him consciously.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Fic: Nocturne (21/30) - Ao3 Link

Fandom: Final Fantasy XV Pairings: Mostly Gen

Summary: In which Cor Leonis loses his temper, accidentally acquires a kid, and tries to single-handedly dismantle the Lucian immigration system – and that’s before he and his lawyers find out about this Prophecy business. If the Astrals think Cor’s going to let his kid’s best friend die without a fight, they’ve gotten the wrong cheetah ‘taur.

(a young adult novel set in @kickingshoes’ ‘taur AU)

—————————————————————————————— ——————————————————————————————

Luna is shaking, she’s not going to lie. To think that war – invasion – came so close to Insomnia itself! And at the hands of the Kingsglaive, no less! With daemons, the scourge of Eos, as Niflheim's weapons of choice – she's heard of it before, of course, distantly, but she could barely believe it until she was seeing it - it’s vile, absolutely vile, and it shakes her to her core to know that any ‘taurs, any ‘taurs at all, would choose to use such a weapon.

"Don't be sad, Luna," Prompto says, patting her back comfortingly. "It's over now."

She nods. Over, at least until the trials for the traitorous Kingsglaive, and very likely Drautos' execution.

"Besides, the summoning thing was way cool," Prompto adds, which makes her smile.

"Never lose your sunny way of looking at things, Prompto," she tells him.

He grins at her.

There's a tap on her shoulder – it's Scientia. "I see that you listened to me about not dying," she tells Luna approvingly. "And my little troublemaker came back in one piece this time, too."

"It was one time," Ignis grouses. "And I got pneumonia last time, I didn't break something or anything."

"Lungs are a piece of you," Scientia says firmly.

Luna smiles at her, too.

"Now," Scientia says in her usual brisk manner, "would you like to go home or stay and hear the reports of what happened during the invasion?"

"Stay," Luna and Ignis both chorus.

"We get to?" Ignis adds, looking pleased.

"Well, you're certainly in the thick of it now," Scientia says, looking a touch rueful. "I doubt any of us realized quite how – eventful – these Covenants would be."

They all go to the sitting room, where poor Mr. Amicitia is still being patched up by his wife while Gladio watches worriedly, since Mr. Amicita refused to go to the hospital and take room from someone who probably needed it more, in his words. Luna’s not sure that was a good decision; he looks awful.

At least the King and Queen are all right, and the Kingsglaive they like, too, like the Ulric twins, even if Hemera has a nasty bandage on her arm and Libertus has a broken leg in a cast.

It's been hours and hours since they first arrived back, but this is the first opportunity they've had to all settle down and talk about what happened - everyone's been too busy putting down the last few daemons and restoring order to the city and capturing any remaining Kingsglaive traitors, and that's still ongoing, left in the hands of Cor's trusted Crownsguard lieutenants.

"So, today we went to form a Covenant with Titan," Cor says after a few moments of collectively stunned silence. "What'd we miss?"

That gets a laugh out of the room.

"I think you can gather the general outline of what happened here," King Regis says wryly. "And even I don't know all of the specifics yet. We'll be doing clean-up for days, if not weeks, yet to come"

"There is one thing I'd like to mention to the group up front, though," Mr. Amicitia says, frowning. "I was assigned to lead the division of the Crownsguard meant to arrest the emperor – unsuccessfully, as you can see –"

"How did that happen?" Cor asks, frowning as well. "You're easily a match for any of the MT guards they had, much less any of Niflheim's 'taur officers."

"I am," Mr. Amicitia says. "But not, it seems, for their Chancellor. He went through us like a knife through butter, and barely bothered straightening his posture to do it."

"Is he the Accursed?" Luna asks eagerly. She thinks he is, but it's not like they have any reason to know for sure.

"Still unconfirmed," Mr. Amicitia says, "but let's say – it seems reasonable."

"That would mesh with my observations as well," Queen Aulea says. "In fact, I'm hunting down a lead at the moment – Cyrella, your assistance in the library would be invaluable here –"

"Of course," Cyrella says.

"But that matter can be discussed further later," Queen Aulea continues, much to Luna's disappointment. "I take it from Titan's guest appearance that the Covenant was successful? I would appreciate the details."

The rest of the evening is mostly spent rehashing things and getting damage reports, which isn't quite as interesting as Luna thought it would be. And she's also extremely tired, so she's more relieved than she'll ever admit when Scientia insists that they go home after only a few hours.

Iggy complains, but a yawn breaks through right as he's trying to point out why he can stay, so Scientia doesn't accept his arguments.

When they get home, Luna wants nothing more than her bed, but it was a very exciting day, a very dangerous day. She's sure her mother will want to hear that she's doing fine, so, as much as she prefers to go straight to bed, she sits down at the little long-distance camera-phone set up she has on her desk and calls Tenebrae.

There's no answer.

Frowning, Luna tries again, but still – no luck.

Well, that happens sometimes, when her mother or brother are too busy to take her call. They'll call her back soon enough.

She goes to bed, secure in that knowledge.

That security becomes increasingly frayed when, over the next week, Tenebrae stubbornly refuses to either call her or answer her calls.

"I don't know what to do," Luna stresses to Scientia. "I don't want to bother King Regis with this – he's supervising all the rebuilding and everything –"

"It's important," Scientia tells her. "Not just because you're important, though of course you are, but because your mother is one of our allies. I'll set up a meeting with King Regis this afternoon, and I'll be happy to come with you when you talk to him, if you like."

"Yes please," Luna says, because she might be fourteen and have known King Regis for years now, but he's still scary when he's sitting on his throne.

King Regis listens to her concern and promises to make a few calls of his own, and, if those result in nothing, to send someone undercover to find out what's happened.

And so Luna waits, filling her time with school, and extra fighting lessons, and talking on her camera-phone with Cindy now that the other 'taur has all the pieces she needed to build her own receiver.

A month goes by, and then another, including Prompto's blissfully uneventful (albeit restricted to Insomnia) birthday party.

King Regis tells Luna that they've sent someone to go find out what's going on, and that they have a new receiver with them in case all that's happened is that the old one broke.

That's reassuring, a little, but not as much as she'd like. She wants news. She wants news now!

Sadly, the universe does not align itself with her whims, so she resigns herself to waiting.

Luna's in school when the call finally comes.

"– when I said now, I mean now," she hears Scientia saying from the corridor, sounding irritated, and gathers up her books with an apologetic smile at her classmates, who smile back, and slips out with a nod of approval from her teacher.

"I've gotten all my things," Luna says, seeing an annoyed Scientia with a harried-looking vice-principal. "Shall I be excused for the rest of today?"

"Yes," Scientia says before the vice-principal can respond. "Come along, Luna."

Luna comes along.

"What's going on?" she asks when they're in the car heading back to the Citadel. "Is everyone all right?"

If someone needs her healing – but no, she only does her healing sessions once a week, under Scientia's close observation to ensure that she's not over-extending herself – but maybe one of the children? Noctis?

"Everyone's fine," Scientia says. "Your mother called."

Luna brightens. "That's wonderful news! At last! What was it – did the receiver break?"

"In a sense," Scientia says, and says no more.

Luna rushes into King Regis' secondary office, since he also has a receiver there and her mother would more likely have called him than her given the time of day, not to mention the diplomatic protocol involved.

When she gets there, though, King Regis and Queen Aulea are there, and they look grave, and her mother is on the screen, and her steely mother’s eyes are wet with tears.

Belatedly, Luna begins to worry. "What's wrong?" she asks, looking at the adults. "Mother, what's happened? You got the new receiver working -"

"It's your brother," Queen Aulea says gently. "He's been taken by Niflheim; they broke the receiver to cover their tracks."

Luna staggers back, covering her mouth with her hand.

"It's worse than that," Luna's mother says, covering her eyes with her hands. "Ravus – Luna, Ravus went with them willingly."

"We will have to put our plans for the Inferniad on hold, of course," Regis tells Cor. "Which was likely the purpose of this gambit, assuming the Chancellor is in fact the Accursed."

Cor nods, agreeing. There is simply no way they can afford to split their forces for the Inferniad – every children's story and historical record they can find have all confirmed that Ifrit's fallen body, or his consciousness' consignment to deep storage if you preferred to think of it that way, had been rather notoriously placed within the Rock of Ravatogh, Lucis' most fearsome volcano.

A volcano, unfortunately, positioned very close to the border with Niflheim and Accordo.

Niflheim would need only send its fleet of airships to secure the location, and from reports they've been receiving, they already have.

That leaves only two approaches to get to the volcano: stealth, by some means they have not yet figured out, or a full-frontal attack.

Kidnapping Ravus Nox Fleuret was a very effective way to ensure that the latter option would not be feasible. Niflheim – or rather, its too-intelligent Chancellor – undoubtedly knows that Luna is being fostered in Lucis, and that Sylvia would demand Lucis' help in retrieving her son. Lucis could not afford to refuse, having taken the woman's daughter from her.

And so Cor was assigned to go attempt a resuce, and an elite division of the Crownsguard was to go with him as well; without them, no reasonable attack could be waged.

There was still some time before the Inferniad, but none of them thought the current situation likely to resolve in time.

"I would appreciate you taking some Kingsglaive with you as well," Regis adds. "The morale in that unit has been very low, given the ongoing trials."

Scientia is taking perhaps more glee than she ought to in ensuring that each and every traitorous wretch receives every single possible right they are due under the Lucis Charter, and rubbing it in their faces while she's at it. Her comparison of the laws of Lucis and Niflheim – pointing out that as traitors to the state, they would probably have just been shot on sight or possibly handed over as living specimens for experimentation if they had been prisoners of Niflheim – are growing increasingly less subtle.

Cor is in favor, though Regis worries that she's being cruel. Clarus is firmly on Scientia's side, though: he thinks that her comparisons might even be breaking through the shell of lies they've all told themselves, and possibly offering hope of eventual rehabilitation – though of course they will never be trusted with military service or even unmonitored access to the Citadel again.

The penalty for having been very good liars.

But for all that, it cannot be denied that morale amongst the Kingsglaive is in fact very low. The betrayals gave support to the unfounded accusations of their most bitterly xenophobic critics, who alleged that refugees would never truly become loyal to their new home and would thus turn on it at the first instance. Worse, the remaining Kingsglaive can't even defend themselves - the betrayals did occur, and Drautos/Glauca's particular choice of rhetoric had become public - other than to point out that most of the Kingsglaive did not betray Lucis, and that it was the Kingsglaive that suffered the highest casualties in opposing the traitors.

It wasn't much balm, though, especially during the seemingly endless series of funerals for the Kingsglaive that had been killed by 'taurs they considered to be brothers and sisters, often quite literally by being stabbed in the back.

No, the Kingsglaive needs something to cheer it back up, some heroism they can point to and say: we did that, for you. We are still willing to do what we must for Lucis, for Insomnia, for us all.

"I was already planning on it," Cor tells Regis. "I'm going to split up our attack, creating two teams: a larger armed force consisting of the main Crownsguard force, led by Monica, which will go straight to Tenebrae, focusing on liberating Sylvia's manor and assisting with the search using that as a springing off point, in case they've hidden Ravus near there, and a smaller strike force, let by me, to go straight into Niflheim to try to see if we can find him hidden in Gralea."

"Niflheim's capital," Regis murmurs. “That’ll be dangerous.”

Cor inclines his head slightly. "Agreed. As I said, I will lead the second strike force personally. Additionally, I plan to take some Kingsglaive – they're more accustomed to independent movement than the Crownsguard, since they're not as familiar with regular formation training."

"That makes sense," Regis says. "Not to mention the optics of the Immortal willingly going into battle supported by only Kingsglaive, demonstrating trust in them...yes, very good. You have my blessing – take whomever you like."

"I'll take the Ulric twins," Cor says.

"Oh?" Regis says, his eyebrows arching. "I'd rather thought that you'd want them to stay here - for the new leadership of the Kingsglaive...?"

Cor snorts. Regis would think that – he was never much of a war-leader, but then that's why he has Clarus and Cor.

"They're fantastic soldiers, and excellent leaders in the field," he says gently. "But they'd be awful captains. They're heroes by nature, not soldiers: they want to protect people from bad things, and that includes war. They'd name themselves to head every awful mission, just to spare others from having to do it; they'd refuse to assign the best people to the job for sentimentality's sake; and they'd probably get themselves dramatically killed by sheer over-exhaustion at the first instance."

"Never heard of anyone like that before," Clarus says dryly from where he's curled up on a couch. His injuries are healing well, though he's still bandaged up. "Not once."

"I," Cor says with dignity, "grew out of it. And they might, too, but they're not there yet. Besides, you've seen the quality of their paperwork."

Regis and Clarus wince. In the last few months, they've been jointly acting as the Kingsglaive's direct commander. Cor has taken a particular delight in forcing them to do all the paperwork that comes with the job – more, since they have to review Drautos’ past paperwork as well. At least for that project they have Scientia’s army of lawyers to explain the nuances, but the new documents? It’s all them.

Even for men accustomed to the paperwork of government, the paperwork of the military is an unpleasant beast of burden.

“No, they’re definitely not captain material, at least not yet,” Cor says firmly. “They’re heroes, and Kingsglaive needs heroes right now; I’m going to take them and give them a chance to do what they do best.”

“Any suggestions on who should be the next captain, then?” Clarus asks.

“Libertus.”

“Libertus?”

“Basically all of the Kingsglaive like him, he’s moderately easy-going but doesn’t let people walk all over him, he’s a decent fighter but a better strategist, and he has an entirely instinctual but very good code of ethics,” Cor says with a shrug. “And he somehow gets all of his paperwork done on time, which is frankly a miracle.”

Regis and Clarus look marginally convinced by that last one.

“Take it under advisement,” Cor suggests. “I’ll go pack.”

Packing, however, is complicated by the fact that when he gets home, there’s an overgrown puppy sitting in his pack instead of his clothing.

“Prom,” Cor says.

“I want to come with you,” Prompto says firmly.

“Prompto,” Cor says again.

“It’s Niflheim,” Prompto insists. “I’m a skeleton key, remember?” He waves his barcoded wrist. “I’d be useful.”

“Prompto. No.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re nine. I’m not taking a nine-year-old into a battlefield. Not on purpose, anyway!”

“But –”

“No, Prompto.” Cor lifts Prompto out of his bag and puts him down near the door. “This one’s just me.”

“It’s always just you,” Prompto grumbles.

“Yes,” Cor says. “Because I’m an adult.”

“Just like you were when you joined the Crownsguard?” Prompto asks innocently, looking up through his eyelashes.

“Nice try, sneaky,” Cor tells him. “I was older than you are now.”

By at least four years, he tells himself virtuously. Maybe something like three and a half if you want to be bothered by little things like rounding and birth certificates. Damnit, it still counts.

Judging from the look Prompto is giving him, Cor’s not doing a great job keeping an entirely straight face about it.

Also, Gladio, at eleven, is getting dangerously close to thirteen.

He really hopes they finish the whole Prophecy before then, or he'll totally run out of decent arguments.

Somehow divining the direction of Cor's thoughts, Prompto sits back on his hindquarters, crosses his arms, and says, "If Gladio was the one –"

"He isn't," Cor says firmly. "Besides, he'd be staying home anyway to take care of his dad. Remember that?"

Prompto looks a little shamefaced for a moment, remembering Clarus' injuries, but quickly rallies with, "Iggy –"

"Is trying to comfort Luna, given how upset she is over Ravus’ defection. And Noctis is your age, so don't even try."

"Noct can do the summoning thing," Prompto points out. "No one else can. He'd be useful, too."

Cor sighs and settles down on his underbelly to look at Prompto. "Prom, I'm not refusing to take you because you won't be useful. I'm refusing to take you because you could be in danger, and I don't want that to happen."

"Danger's a part of life," Prompto replies. He sounds like he's quoting someone. Probably Cor. "It's how you prepare for it and how you handle it that matters."

Definitely Cor.

Damnit.

"Prom –"

"You said I could get a present or a privilege if I exceeded my shooting targets," Prompto says. "I did. Two days ago. I want to come with you."

"Prom –"

"This is what I want!"

Cor hates saying no to Prompto. But sometimes a 'taur's gotta do what a 'taur's gotta do.

"No, Prompto. You're not coming with me."

"Fine," Prompto explodes, his eyes suddenly filling with tears. "You go by yourself and maybe get hurt like Gladio's dad or – or – or worse, just because you wouldn't take me, and then I'll be sad and it'll be all your fault! So there!"

"Prompto –"

But Prompto is already turning and fleeing to the door. "Guess I'd better say goodbye now," he says, sniffling. "Since you're probably gonna be gone soon. But I'm still mad!"

And then he runs out.

Cor didn't even get his usual pre-mission good-luck hug.

He feels bereft.

"Six, what he'll be like as a teenager," Cor murmurs, scrubbing at his face. "I don't even want to know."

He hopes that his bright, sunny Prompto rethinks his decision not to say goodbye any further, but he doubts it – Prompto's definitely absorbed Cor's stubbornness.

No – best to just accept the way things are. They'll make up when he gets back.

Besides, if the worst should happen, he's written letters for Prompto to open, reassuring him of his love for him, his pride in his development, everything. Cor rewrites those letters twice each year, updating it with new details, new compliments, to make sure they're as good as he can get them.

It won't be enough, he doesn't kid himself about that. But it'll be – something.

Cor turns back to his packing.

A 'taur's gotta do what a 'taur's gotta do...

Nyx is honestly shocked that Cor Leonis has lived as long as he has.

"You – you – the Immortal – head of the Crownsguard – most well-known fighter in Lucis – have been to Niflheim before – how many times?!"

"I've lost count," Cor (the reckless bastard) says with a shrug.

“And after all that, the best you can do is tell us that it’s cold?!”

"Well. It is cold."

"What a characteristically effusive description," Hemera signs, rolling her eyes. "Please, tell us what you really think."

Cor shrugs.

"Remind me about the part where we need all the luggage?" Nyx asks, jerking his head back towards the literal crates of luggage they have on the back of the truck. "Seems unnecessary. I thought you told us to pack light."

"Those crates are necessary."

"But there's nothing in them but clothing!" Nyx protests.

"You looked?"

"Well, at one of them..."

Cor looks long-suffering. "The luggage itself isn't important. Having the luggage is important."

"How?" Hemera asks.

"The reason I've been so successful at smuggling myself into and out of Niflheim is that I do it a different way each time," Cor explains. "This time, since I have you two, we're going to go with the direct approach."

"I feel like there's a hidden jibe in there about Kingsglaive discipline," Nyx says to Hemera, shaking his head mock-mournfully. He can only joke about it because he knows that of all people, Cor wouldn't.

"Crownsguard humor," Hemera agrees. "Sad. Very sad."

"Shut up, both of you," Cor says, sounding amused – which is better than the rather gloomy he's sounded since he left Insomnia. Something to do with his kid; Nyx isn't sure what.

"So what is the plan, and why does it involve luggage with clothing?" Hemera asks.

"You're going as a noble canidaetaur lady, Hemera," Cor says. "From Galahd; you're visiting Niflheim. You know they allow canidaetaurs in pretty liberally, even if they're from Lucis-aligned states."

"That's true," Hemera signs, but she's scowling. "But – a lady? Why?"

"Because then Nyx can go as your bodyguard, and since, as a lady, you'd never stoop to pantomime when someone doesn't understand you because of your deafness, that means I can go as your translator," Cor says. "Your meek, scholarly translator, who you have no choice but to take with you everywhere you go, even if it's technically barred to felidaetaurs."

"That's brilliant," Nyx says after a moment of sheer appreciation. "As a translator, they'd start seeing you less as a person and more as a floating narrative voice."

"Exactly," Cor says.

"Meek?" Hemera signs doubtfully. "You?"

"I'm a decent actor when it calls for it," Cor says dryly. "Also, I have an ugly set of glasses – you'd be amazed how much they help."

Nyx can't wait to see that.

"I see your tail wagging, Ulric First," Cor says warningly.

"Who, me?" Nyx says, deliberately wagging it harder.

"I feel like I should be Ulric First for this trip," Hemera signs. "Given that I'm the noble lady and all. Ugh, does that mean I have to wear jewelry?!"

"Looks like it, selena," Nyx says fondly. "Also, we're getting close to the ferry to Altissia – Cor, should she change?"

"No, no need; changing on board is fine," Cor says. "The ship itself is secure – staffed and filled with people we trust. I want to leave as soon as we get to the port."

"And here I was hoping to experience Galdin Quay for myself," Nyx says, sighing over-dramatically. "The largest population of Galahdians outside of Galahd, you know. They might have real food, not that bland stuff you makes us all live off in Insomnia."

"You'll live," Cor says.

Boarding the ferry is easy enough. Cor produces the snazzy new identity papers they're going to use. Hemera's is ridiculous – Lady Adrasteia delia Ushas, of the Laomedon Estates over on one of the northern isles. It's a real place, with a fairly notorious tendency to change hands between its many distant family members due to a very unfortunate testamentary decision made generations back . Nyx is Erebus Black, a longtime family retainer and her personal bodyguard, and poor Cor is Geryon Praeneste, a translator.

"At least you got the names right," Nyx says cheerfully. "I was worried you used Lucian roots, instead of Galahdian ones."

Cor rolls his eyes. "You done checking us in?" he asks the guy in charge of greeting guests. "Good. Let's be off as soon as possible."

"We delayed departure of an earlier timed vessel for you," the guy says. "So you're the last guests; we can leave at once as soon as your luggage is stowed. Go make yourself comfortable – the journey will be about five hours long from Galdin."

"Five hours?" Nyx asks blankly. He can sail, though as an inlander he doesn't make too much of a habit of it, and he can read a map. "How?"

"There's a cruise element," the guy says with a shrug. "For fancy vessels like this one, we prefer the scenic – and, coincidentally, slightly safer – approach to Altissia. There are more direct routes, but..."

"Not as fancy, not as safe, gotcha."

Hemera pokes Cor, who has his eyes turned back to shore with a very un-Cor-like gloom again. "Let's get something to eat first."

Nyx approves of her plan – and not just because he's always hungry, the way she's always teasing him about. Cor's a leader, first and foremost, and he takes care to ensure that his people are full and energized.

Even if he does pick at the food on his own plate like it's personally offended him.

"You okay?" Nyx asks after a bit.

Cor shrugs. "I have a food thing," he says vaguely. "Hasn't acted up in a while. I'll get down enough to be functional, don't worry."

They spend about an hour at the ship's truly stellar buffet, clowning around a bit in hopes of lifting Cor out of his sulk. They're not entirely successfully, but he does start laughing at the lobster quadrille they put on, complete with Nyx singing the words.

"All right," Cor says after a while. "Go get changed; if there's anything we need to fix, I want to know it now."

Nyx's outfit consists of an overcoat of dark greys and dark purples of the Laomedon estate, very stern but for the somewhat flouncy white shirt underneath – very piratical – which is pretty standard for more monied Galahdians to insist on for their households. He dabs kohl under his eyes, too, which he hasn't had to do for any practical purpose since he left Galahd, and braids the appropriately fierce set of beads into his hair: he's already got good luck ones for fighting, honor and good health in, but he adds loyalty and commitment, plus a whimsical strand signifying smooth sailing – which, in slang, is an indication that he's both single and open to sharing his next heat with the right 'taur if someone's interested.

He's about halfway through touching up his tattoos with a henna overlay that suggests a slightly more conservative heritage when he hears the yelp.

He's out of the door in half a second. "Hemera! What is it?"

Cor's out there too, sword in hand.

"You're going to have to break that habit if you want to come off as meek, you know," Nyx tells him. Now that he's had a second to consider, Hemera's yelp was surprised but didn’t sound like she was either in pain or afraid.

Cor rolls his eyes. He's in a pretty clever variant of understated Lucian servant dress – same colors as Nyx, yet somehow desaturated and even more conservative a cut, more business-suit than soldier. His clothing is a bit too large for him, making him even thinner than he already is and hiding his powerful shoulders. He does, in fact, have a set of spectacles on that somehow manage to complete the effect of a weedy, anxious little man.

It’s – actually really effective. And super weird.

Shit, how many people has Nyx overlooked while on guard duty if Cor the freaking Immortal can do that?

To avoid having to think about that too hard, Nyx knocks on his sister's door. "Selena? You okay?"

She knocks back 'yes, give me a second'.

"One sec," Nyx tells Cor.

"I know what that means, yes," Cor says dryly, putting away his sword.

A few moments later, Hemera opens the door partway. "You will never believe what I found in the luggage next to my dresses," she signs, looking exasperated, and then she opens the door the rest of the way and drags forward –

"Prompto!" Cor exclaims, rushing forward and embracing him.

"Hi, Cor," Prompto replies, smiling broadly and hugging him back.

"What are you doing here?" Cor demands after a few seconds. "I told you that you couldn't come!"

"I'm your skeleton key," Prompto says firmly. "I'm not gonna let you go without me."

"You do know I've been in Niflheim multiple times before, right?"

"Yes, but you've never been to Zegnautus Keep," Prompto replies. "I heard you and Uncle Clarus talking about it."

"Zegnautus Keep?" Nyx echoes, eyebrows arching. "No wonder you needed a noble lady involved, if you wanted to get an invite in there. Isn't that a giant airship that's only sometimes a city?"

"It's the seat of the Emperor when he's at Gralea," Cor says. "If Ravus went willingly, like Sylvia says, and they decided to leave Tenebrae, then that'll be where in Niflheim they take him. His pride won't permit anything less. Prom, I have half a mind to turn this ship around right now and send you back home!"

"Does that mean you have half a mind that you won't?" Prompto says hopefully. "You'd lose a lot of time that way, you know."

Cor sighs. "Prom, we're going undercover –"

"I know!" he interrupts. "I got Noctis to lend me some of his court clothing; I'll fit in with the nobility disguise, no problem!"

"Noctis?" Cor says, sounding alarmed. "Prom, if Noctis is there, I am turning this ship around, time loss or no time loss!"

"No, no," Prompto says quickly, though his tail's started going a million miles an hour at the suggestion in Cor's voice that he might not get left behind. "He had to stay back at home, since he's helping out with the rebuilding effort and doing a lot of public appearances and charity visits and stuff. Iggy's helping him with all of that, plus he's got to take care of Luna, and Gladio has to stay with Noctis 'cause he's his Shield and also 'cause of his dad –"

"Gladio knows he's not officially a Shield until he turns sixteen and gets his tattoo, right?" Cor asks, clearly having given up on turning the ship around, to judge by the way he's absently started grooming Prompto's fur and the way his tail has gone all relaxed and happy.

"He's still a Shield, even if it's unofficial," Prompto says firmly. "And that's everyone accounted for, except for me, and I'm with you."

Cor groans.

"He can be my son," Hemera signs. "I'll be a tragic widowed heiress, taking her only son and heir to visit the land of his father – a dashing Niflheim sailor who visited Galahd only briefly before dying tragically saving lives in a storm –"

"Glacian's jewels, Hemera, where'd you get that from?" Nyx exclaims. "A romance novel?"

"Telenovela, actually," she says, grinning. "They're kind of addictive. I've gotten Libertus into them – you're next."

"Fuck no I'm not next."

Cor has his eyes covered. "This is a terrible idea," he grumbles.

"But you're doing it, right?" Prompto asks eagerly.

Cor taps Prompto's nose with a finger, causing the puppy to giggle and hide his face. "I'm going to need you to be very careful, okay?" he says. "First sign of serious danger, you're going back on the boat."

Prompto's nodding furiously.

"You have a screwed up sense of danger, boss," Nyx can't resist telling Cor, even though it makes Prompto give him a dirty look. "You sure this is a good idea?"

"It's Niflheim," Cor says, like that explains anything. Perhaps figuring out from Nyx's glare that he needs to expand on that, he adds, "Prompto's originally from Niflheim – possibly even from Gralea proper. It's an important part of his heritage, and I don't want to keep him from it."

"An important part of his heritage which we're at war with," Nyx points out. "And currently infiltrating."

Cor makes a face. "In my defense, it isn't actually the stupidest thing I've ever done."

"Knowing you? That's totally not a defense," Hemera signs. "Come on, kiddo," she adds to Prompto, who – thank the Six – is fluent in LSL after all these years. "Let's get you dressed up – luckily your hair is just long enough for some proper braids – oh, and we'll get some henna on you, too –"

Nyx shakes his head in amusement. "We'll keep an eye on him, boss," he tells Cor. "Don't worry. We're really good at playing up the stereotypical Galahd thing when we need to – no one will question our disguises."

"I hope I'm doing the right thing," Cor murmurs, looking at Hemera's now-closed door with no little anxiety. "He's so young..."

Nyx clasps his shoulder. "He's clearly coming along whether you want him to or not," he tells him. "Might as well keep him safe and close to you. Turning around now would nuke the entire mission – the Niffs know our ferry schedules, and they have eyes in Accordo."

"I know," Cor says. "That's the only reason I'm agreeing."

He reaches over and snags a sandwich that Nyx smuggled out of the buffet for later. Taking a nice, big bite, he says, "Say, do you think the buffet's still open? Prom might be hungry."

"I'll check," Nyx offers, hiding his smile. In his opinion, this mission's chances of success just went up considerably: Cor is pretty fearsome as a general rule, but in a good mood and with a kid to protect?

Gralea doesn't stand a chance.

[sky-writes-daydreams]

How They Met Chapter 14

A/N: Hey! I’m still here. Sorry for the delay between updates. I’ve been working on this honestly. Editing and adding to it of course. (There’s smut coming I swear to the six.) Also been debating on something. If I were to write an alternate ending to the first one I had planned an episode happiness as it were, Would anyone be interested? Let me know plz.

@valkyrieofardyn @shigekihizashi @blindedstarlight @lola-mcevil13

Next Chapter     Masterpost 

Turns out I didn’t have to worry. I was sitting on the shaded steps outside of the power plant when I heard a whistle. I looked back and beamed.

“Cindy!”

“Hey girl. What’s up?”

“Waiting on the boys. Holly called for backup.” she nodded as she came closer.

“I heard. Kind of why I came running.” She sat down next to me and smiled.

“Hope you don’t mind. Pawpaw needed the truck so I had to take Bella.” I stopped then.

“Wait….” She smiled and flashed my spare key. I forgot I gave that to her. I laughed then and she smiled.

“Gave her a look over while you were gone. She should be good for a long while. Those empire techs knew what they were doing.” I stopped then.

“Who told you…?”

“The boys. Ignis was the quietest. I don’t think he likes you hanging around them too much.”

“I know he doesn’t…. Noctis just told me why…. He had a crush on me.” Cindy cringed then and I nodded.

“Kind of just crushed it…. Cus the guy that the boys keep running into…” I could feel the blush then.

“We’re dating….” She looked over stunned and I covered my face.

“You…. You're dating!? Finally!”

“Oh shut it!!! You know damn well why I haven't before now!” She started laughing then and I groaned covering my face. At least till I heard the gate open. We both straightened up and I soon ran.

“Gladio!!” He looked up and smiled.

“Hey! Sup?”

“Nothing much. Where the hell you’ve been?” He chuckled then.

“Long story. It was worth it tho.” I nodded and soon the boys started talking. I snuck away and headed for my jeep. They had it together now that gladio was home.

I got home about an hour later and just crashed on the couch. I was worn out and I didn’t feel like walking back to my bedroom. My boots were waiting by the door drying out and I just hit the couch. My phone was still dead silent but I didn’t mind. I got up long enough to scrub off some of the swampy mess on my legs and wash out my hair before I went back to the couch and turned on my small tv. I turned on some old movie and just settled down. I lost track of time while my eyes were closed. I only opened them when it started going nuts vibrating. I slid it over to answer without looking at the name.

“Hello?”

“Oh six…. I woke you.” I stopped then.

“Wait…. Ardyn?” I rubbed my eye a bit then as he chuckled.

“Yes. you ok?”

“I guess… Fuck what time is it?”

“Around seven at night. I’ve been trying to text but you never answered… Should have known you were asleep.” I laughed a bit then.

“Yeah maybe…. I’m lousy at keeping in contact though. I could have just been ignoring my phone as I clean. I’ve done that… Or reading. I do love my books.”

“Oh? Interesting…. At least you can sleep now though.”

“Yeah… I’m kind of shocked. Been a while since I’ve passed out like this…” I smiled then stretching slightly.

“Maybe getting that weight off me made it easier… I’m a lot more relaxed now…” I got up then turning on a lamp close by. It was already dark out. My tv was still on as well but I didn’t even check it.

“You too? Well I suppose that’s a good side effect.... I wonder how well you’d sleep if I was there though.” I laughed then getting into my kitchen. I kept this part of my house sparkling. I hated a dirty kitchen.

“My, That’s a jump…. But probably pretty fucking well. Wouldn’t need a thick blanket either cus you’re a heater.” I opened my fridge then and got a water out. I heard him laugh then and then pull away from the phone. I couldn't hear what he said.

“Good to know. I’ll remember that for next time hon. Sadly I’ve got to go. A quick meeting before I’m set free. Plans are in motion and apparently need my approval.” He sounded so bored. I laughed then leaning on the fridge then.

“My oh my, is the man of the people bored with his duties?”

“Very funny. I’m tired as well believe it or not. I would like an early day off.” I cackled then and he huffed.

“Go back to sleep Skylar. I’ll see you soon.”

“Alright.  Hope it goes by quick for you, Ardyn… Love you.” It felt a bit odd to say it but It wasn’t a lie. I knew he stopped then before smiling.

“Love you too Dear…. See you soon?”

“Always.” He kissed the phone then making me go red before he hung up. I let my hand fall then as I sighed. I kind of wished he was here with me suddenly.

I didn’t get long to dwell on that. Come sunrise, I was getting leads over text for hunts all over the area. I was the highest ranked hunter they could find for some of these. I organized them all on my gps the best I could before taking off. The only good news is I got to text Ardyn. In between hunts, I’d send him little photos or texts just letting him know how they went or where I was. I even changed his name from cinnabum loser to Ardyn My Love. It made the huge job load a lot easier to deal with honestly and the nightly calls while I camped at havens close by helped even more. I was honestly lying on my back next to the fire looking up at the stars with the phone beside me on speaker when he mentioned it. I hadn’t seen him in over a week now and I was a rank nine hunter now. My friend Dino from Galdin had just asked me today about this new job he had for me which is what I was telling ardyn when he chirped up.

“Wait… you said the emerald was where?”

“Costlemark. It’s old ruins from the first empire. I’ve camped near there to take out some necromancers close by but never went in. It’s labeled as highly dangerous and dave is careful about which hunters go in. He won’t even do it anymore because the last time, he almost didn’t make it out.” I laughed then smiling.

“I’ve always wanted to go!!! The loot in that place is out of this world!” He laughed then.

“I can believe that… I’ve been in there…. Well…. As of…” I heard him pull the phone away as I looked over.

“Five minutes ago.”

“You went alone!?” I rolled over grabbing my phone quickly.

“How are you alive!?”

“Easy. It’s part of my secret.” I stopped then. He hadn’t mentioned his secrets since that night at the vesperpool.

“Ardyn…” I was worried. He had been so closed off about telling me before now.

“I went to make sure we could do it together…. This is where I want to tell you everything…. It’s the closest we can get to….” He trailed off then.

“Ok… Um… when?”

“Can you be here tomorrow night? It only opens at night.” I got up then and scrambled to my map. I looked over it and smiled.

“Easily. I’m only in the next district. I can get there during the day and we can hang out until nightfall if you want.”

“Sounds good to me. Be nice to see the local hangouts.” I laughed then smiling.

“Yeah I can toss you in the lakes and see if you can catch a rare fish or leave you stranded on the arches.” I folded the map then easily. This was going to be fun for sure.

“Oh get real…. You’re scared of heights. You wouldn’t get up there even if I offered you all the gil in lucis.” I gasped then as he started laughing. I just smiled then.

“Yeah ok you got me…. Well good news is that I live about an hour away so if I’m still talking to you after this, we can go chill at my house.”

“Oh? Am I finally going to get to see where you live?”

“Maybe. It’s not much but it’s mine for sure.”

“I’m alright with that. So…. is it a date?” I stopped putting away my things then and looked over at the phone going red.

“Um…. Yeah. I guess so…. Just don’t get me drunk this time ok?”

“I won’t. Not safe to go into costlemark drunk…. Unless you’re me I guess.” I laughed a bit then smiling.

“You promise we’ll be ok?”

“I swear hon. No harm will come to you while you’re with me.”

“I trust you…. Um…. Meet up at the chocobo post?”

“Is that the central location there?”

“Pretty much to me.”

“Alright…. Mind if I see if damien will let me pet him?” I smiled then.

“Oh? Do you have a soft spot for chocobos?”

“Well…. Maybe. It’s been a while. That’s all and he seems friendly enough.” I shook my head then smiling.

“Alright. I’ll text you permission in case wiz asks ok?”

“Thanks hon. See you there around noon?”

“Probably sooner…. Depends on how soon I can get some sleep.”

“I didn’t make you too excited did I?” I stopped then. Was he…?

“No…?” He started laughing then and I growled looking away.

“You jerk! I’m hanging up now!”

“Sleep well love.” He kissed the phone then and I just smiled. I kissed back before hanging up and went to bed smiling. Tomorrow was going to be a lot of fun.