slay

Summary: Padfoot helps, James makes a fool of himself and Padfoot interrupts.

Or Lily's job as a dog walker is eventful.

_____________

“PADFOOT, NO!”

All in all, that’s the thing that Lily has been saying the most every day since she agreed to walk over that little beast that was released from hell exclusively to torment her.

The worst part is that this beast looks cute. Extremely cute, with the darkest and shiniest fur she has ever seen, warm brown eyes that look hugely sorry whenever he does something wrong (which seems to be all the time). Lily adores him except when Padfoot is misbehaving.

Again, all the time.

Every day since the first time she walked Padfoot, Lily has promised herself that she will inform his owner that she can’t do it anymore. But every day his owner looks at her apologetically, pays twice what they agreed on and winks at her as if asking “can you come back tomorrow, pretty please?”

Now, the double money is nice, Lily needs that job, the dog’s owner is not bad on the eye, but what makes her go back the next day is that Padfoot, that insufferable hellhound, comes back to nudge her with his wet nose, looking at her with his adorable eyes, and he looks so innocent that Lily agrees before she can think better.

But this is it. Seven days later, Lily is ready to finally give up, because Padfoot has done something graver than forcing her to change directions in the middle of the street so he can chase after pigeons, weirder than making her invade a house so he can chat with the cats and worse than invading a flower shop so he could sniff the flowers (and destroying half the plants in the process).

Padfoot pulled her towards a stranger.

For all his size, Padftoot isn’t an aggressive dog; but for all his size, when he is set into something, Lily and her one hundred and forty pounds can’t hold him, so before Lily can do anything more than scream (“PADFOOT, NO!”), Padfoot is running down the park, dragging her along, jumping towards a man and throwing him in the ground.

A second later, a full second in which Lily has time to reconsider every choice in her life that leads to this moment, the momentum throws Lily over the man in the ground.

And then for five very good seconds, Lily forgets all about Padfoot—if she thought about him, she might even thank him—because of every man in the world the dog could choose to jump over, he chose someone absolutely gorgeous. Lily notices first his face, his widen hazel eyes shining behind rectangular glasses, and a few wisps of his dark messy hair falling over his sweaty forehead. Then she sees his tanned skin, from his face to his chest—and when her eyes drop to his chest, she realizes he isn’t wearing any shirt, only some jogger pants, and she is thankful for the bright summer day because gods, he is fit.

Her hand over his chest twitches, and Lily swears she can feel his quick heartbeat—or perhaps it’s her pulse that is running quick, and Lily knows it was not the adrenaline of before.

“Wow,” he whispers, his voice mellow and deep and talking to her, and there is only—

Only a dog between them, licking the stranger’s very beautiful face, taking his glasses out.

“Hey, hey,” he says, laughing, and Lily remembers her current situation.

She jumps apart, knowing her face is deep red (and that embarrassment is only half the reason).

“I am so sorry!” she tells him, trying to pull Padfoot away. The man sits (damn those abs), hugging the dog, letting him keep his ministrations. “He has never—”

“That’s okay,” he tells her, grinning at her (damn this smile). “You are not a good boy, are you?”

Padfoot barks happily, looking very proud of himself.

“I’m really sorry, he doesn’t usually attack people and—” she looks at his dishevelled state (she is not admiring his body once more, she is not), with grass on his hair and dirt on his pants, not to mention all the drool over his face. “You are all dirty—”

“I was already in need of a shower,” he says distractedly (stop imagining him all wet). “I—oh.”

He doesn’t seem very concerned, but he turns his elbow to reveal a scratch from when he fell.

“Fuck, I’m so—”

“It’s no big deal,” he assures her easily. “I—”

“His house—I mean, his owner’s house is just across the street, let me help you.”

“Hm.” He seems strangely bashful. “Actually, I—”

“Just let me help you, please. I’ve been fixing his mess all week.”

“Hmmm.” He still seems opposed to the idea, his good hand scratching Padfoot’s hair almost absently. The dog looks very innocent there, standing with his mouth open, breathing fast. “I am James.”

“Oh,” she smiles at him, and his whole face alights with a grin of his own. “I’m Lily. Now that we know each other—”

“I’ll let you fix this mess,” he agrees, nodding, and when he accepts her hand to help him up, Lily tries to pretend she doesn't feel all the sparks.

_________

Because Padfoot always knows when he did something wrong, the return to his house is quiet and peaceful. He walks pompously, the image of the most behaved dog in the world, seeming glad about something that Lily can’t see.

Not that she is paying much attention, to be honest.

“So, what were you doing back there?” she asks, keeping her voice nonchalant.

“Meditation,” he says, and under her surprised look, James chuckles. To Lily’s dismay, he has picked up a shirt out of his bag, though he still looks very well. “Si… my best friend told me I had too much energy, I should try something to ease my mind.”

“Did it help?”

“Not very much. I was almost relaxing, but then there was this lady screaming and a dog—”

“I am so—”

“I’m joking! You really need to ease your mind too!” He throws her an amused laugh. “And what were you doing in the park?”

In answer, Lily shakes the leash in her hand. An adorable blush spreads over his cheeks.

“Yeah, of course, forget that I asked.”

Lily giggles softly. “Well, you may have hit your head,” she teases, though she is sure he didn’t.

“I hope so,” he whispers, and when her gaze meets his, the red in his cheeks intensifies. “I swear I don’t make a fool of myself usually. So—do you work with dog walking for very long?”

“Just one week actually—my first job is this little beast here.” In answer, Padfoot barks once more, proudly, agreeing with her.

“Padfoot is a nightmare,” James agrees, only fondness dropping from his voice as he stares at the dog.

Lily frowns. “How do you know?”

“'Cause he jumped over me?”

“No, how do you know he is called Padfoot?”

James blinks. “His tag?”

Lily nods slowly. “I guess… We are here.”

James has already stopped even before she says anything, but Lily doesn’t notice, busy opening the small gate to the backyard. Padfoot jumps once more, and this time she lets him loose, knowing he will only be running towards his favourite toys.

“You can wait there,” Lily tells James, indicating a few benches under a parasol in the backyard. “I’ll find some medical kit.”

James sits where she showed him, and he seems to struggle with something for a bit before— “I’d try the guest toilet, first drawer.”

Lily nods; it’s where she had thought first. She opens the door to the house with the spare key that Black has lent her—he won’t be back until seven, if she isn’t wrong—and finds her money over the kitchen table (double plus some more as if he knew that his dog would misbehave once more—very likely given his historic). But she moves forward, going to the toilet in the hall and, in the first drawer of the cabinet she finds a first kit aid.

James is waiting patiently for her, while Padfoot carefully offers him each toy for James to throw.

“He really likes you,” she tells him, sitting next to James. “It took me two days of bargaining to make him let me grab one of his toys.”

“I am a trustworthy person,” James says playfully. “You seem to think so.”

“I do?”

“Well, you just brought me here.”

“I trust Padfoot, he has good instincts. And I am sure Padfoot would defend me if you tried anything,” she says.

“I better not do anything then,” he says, and Lily bits her lip. She hadn’t meant like that.

She cleans his wound, using it as an excuse not to look at him. “Anything bad. After all, he threw me all over you today, so who knows.”

“Well, I’m not complaining,” James says, even as he grimaces when Lily applies alcohol over his wound. “Actually I’d consider rewarding him.”

“You hated meditation that much?” she teases, now bandaging his arm.

“Nah, you were just the most exciting thing that happened to me today. This week. This year—not that I was excited, I mean, not that you wouldn’t make me—I just mean—”

“James? You are babbling.”

“Making a fool of myself, sorry.”

“It… it was actually cute.”

“Oh.” He looks at her, his eyes shining. “Do you enjoy making men fool themselves around you?”

“That's exclusive of you, actually.”

His grin seems to radiate joy now. “So… how much of a fool I would be if I asked you to dinner with me tonight?”

“No dogs to disturb us?”

“No dogs allowed,” he says, and Lily swears he is getting closer.

“That seems perfect,” she agrees, her gaze falling to his lips (full and they look so soft)—

The backdoor opens violently and then Padfoot jumps from the place he had been quietly waiting on the floor.

“Missed you too, Pads!” Black cries, kneeling to accept his dog’s attention. Then he looks ahead and his gaze goes from Lily to James, his mouth opened in surprise.

Lily jumps, suddenly aware of her situation. At her side, James is shaking his head. “Mr. Black! I am so sorry, I can—”

“Sneaking around, James? Thought you wouldn't be back until Sunday!”

Lily blinks. “You know each other?”

“Ah—”

“Ah, Evans! That’s my best friend!”

“What?”

James lifts his hand, running through his hair. “I was going to tell you—”

“So… so that’s why Padfoot ran to you?”

“I didn’t know you’d be there—”

“And you just let me make a fool out of myself?”

“Lily—”

“Hmm, can anyone tell me what’s going on?”

“I’m out. That’s what's going on. I’m leaving.”

“I'm so sorry, Lily, I didn’t mean, I just—”

“No, just… no.”

She shakes her head, walking away, and as she reaches the gate, she feels something brushing her leg, and Lily lowers her eyes to find the familiar black dog glancing at her.

“I haven’t a clue what the hell is happening, but you’ll be back tomorrow, Evans?” she hears Sirius asking, and Padfoot bends his head to the side as if he is asking her the same question.

Lily touches the dog’s head, caressing him under his ear, and his tail swings hopefully for her. His pupils are huge, looking like the most adorable dog in the world, and he barks softly at her before turning his head; Lily follows his gaze to see that James is looking at her, looking very sorrowful and as pleading as Padfoot.

She turns away.

“No, you’ll need to find someone else,” she says and forces herself to close the gate without looking back.

(to be continued. Don't hate me)

paradox burning ; 2/5 || ernst schmidt x fem!reader

summary: when it seems you've lost earth, panic finally settles in

pairing: ernst schmidt x fem!reader

word count: 5,548

warnings: biting of skin around the fingers, mentions of mental health issues

a/n: finally settled into my apartment and have wifi! i will admit this one was a little hard to write so i apologize if this was a little hard to read. next chapter for sure will have more meat to it! thanks for all your comments, shares, and support! <3

Another test aboard the Cloverfield Space Station. The 47th test in just over two years is scheduled for 8:00 a.m. Eastern Standard Time. All eyes are on-

“This is Huntsville...we’ve got eyes and ears.”

Seated beside Acosta, you watched the newscast presented on the screen with Mark Stambler - the conspiracy theorist who was on yet another rave about this so-called ‘Cloverfield Paradox’. Acosta seemed to be just as irritated with what the guy was saying just as much as you were. You could only wonder how many people actually believed what this guy was saying.

“Right this minute, they are testing a particle accelerator up there, so we can learn how to make unlimited energy down here. But those who have accepted the Cloverfield Paradox is real...know how dangerous that is.”

Shaking your head, you brought your fingers to your mouth, chewing on the skin that was around your nails, leaning forward towards the screen. You didn’t know what was more nerve-wracking...what Stambler was going on about, or the team around you preparing for the next test.

As you sank your teeth into your skin, tearing it off before moving on to the next finger, you felt a sensation trickle down your spine, as if someone were watching you. Glancing to your right, you quickly pulled your fingers from your mouth at the sight of Acosta giving you ‘the look’. Blushing, you looked down and squeezed your hands together in your lap.

“Sorry...just a little anxious.” You whispered, your eyes falling back to the screen.

Placing a hand on your knee, Acosta gave your knee a comforting squeeze before pulling away, “It’s going to work this time. I know it will.”

Nodding your head, you smiled weakly at Acosta, finding a sense of ease with his own hope on the day. You did your best to focus on the newscast again, ignoring the stinging sensation from your fingers at the spots that you tore into too deep. The faint taste of iron in your mouth from the blood. You knew you’d have to clean up after the test, not wanting to go around with bloody fingers the rest of the day.

“This experiment could unleash chaos…the likes of which we’ve never seen. Monsters, demons, beasts of the sea-”

“To clarify, you believe their efforts to solve the energy crisis might unleash demons?”

Scoffing, you couldn’t help but laugh as it continued on, “This guy really thinks that we are going to break open some world-ending creation, doesn’t he?” Shaking your head, you leaned back in your chair, your hands gripping at the armrests on either side of you.

It was the Commander who finally had enough of what bullshit was spewing from the guy’s mouth - directing that you and Acosta turn it off. As you did, you heard over the intercom from Volkov that the gyro was calibrating, meaning that it was only minutes before the test finally began - but not before egging Schmidt’s temper on how his station was doing.

You smiled weakly at Schmidt who rolled his eyes, mumbling something under his breath as he continued on before your attention went to Mundy who approached you and Acosta, asking for him to grant them with his ‘holy stick’. When Acosta stood to lead into prayer, you sank to your knees on the ground, crossing yourself before clasping your hands together, you closed your eyes and bowed your head, waiting for Acosa to begin.

“Oh come on. Not now when we’re-”

Opening one eye, you looked to see Schmidt slightly amused, in shock that you were about to go into prayer before the test. You all had your own faiths, or lack thereof, and something you and Schmidt never seemed to see eye-to-eye with was that. He could treat it as a joke all he wanted, but this was possibly the only thing that gave you even an ounce of peace of mind.

“Schmidt.”

When the Commander scolded Schmidt, he fell silent, sitting in silence while Mundy, the Commander, Acosta, and yourself all gathered around for Acosta to lead you into prayer.

“The farther we travel from home, the clearer it becomes that there is power infinitely greater than us. Please show Your mercy and allow the Shepard to work this time. To provide the energy we need. To prevent our countries from going to war. Please, God, be on our side. Amen.”

Standing up, you smiled at Acosta before laughing as Mundy went in to fist-bump Acosta.

“That was righteous.”

It was finally time for the test to begin. As the accelerator began to power up, the team gathered around to their stations, you stood beside Acosta, watching as Schmidt made his way from his station towards the two of you.

“Back to work. Sunday school over with?” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at Schmidt’s comment, shaking your head as he smirked, winking your way before turning towards the middle of the room, to the main starter for the accelerator.

“He’s insufferable.” You mumbled, earning a laugh from Acosta before he nudged you, heading over towards Schmidt and Mundy. You followed in suit, standing beside Acosta as you watched Schmidt prepare to launch the accelerator.

As you steadied yourself for the test, you found yourself toying with your cross necklace, squeezing the pendant between your fingers as you listened to Schmidt count down before turning the key, igniting the accelerator. The ship around you began to shake as the accelerator kicked in, preparing to send out another test of electricity.

You didn’t have it in you to watch, closing your eyes, you began to mumble a prayer to yourself, hoping that this was it - that this would be the test that worked and that you’d all get to go home. Back to your families, back to a normal life, back to reality.

“Please…” You found yourself whispering, “Please let this work.”

The whirring sound of the machine almost drowned out Tam’s voice, but when she repeated herself, your eyes shot open. Did you hear her right? Was this test successful?

“What’s our output?” Commander Kiel asked.

“We have positive energy flow,” Schmidt began, “For the first time. Look at this! Look at this!”

Of course this was a time to celebrate. For the first time you managed to finally run a successful test. Turning towards Acosta, your smile grew from ear to ear before rushing into his arms, hugging him tightly as the two of you laughed, happy to hear that your prayers were finally answered and that they finally managed to figure out how to get a successful test.

“We are focused at 47 teravolts.”

“Oh man!”

The cheers and celebrations that went around were only expected - perhaps a little unprofessional with some of the language that came from Mundy, but nobody could be upset - after two years, finally you had something go right.

“Hamilton, get us in viewing mode.”

Watching as the screen changed from your current view of Earth to the accelerator lighting up. Your grin never faltered at the sight of the beautiful purple hue buzzing, indicating that everything was going smooth. All things were finally going to plan…

Until they weren’t.

You weren’t sure what happened, but the purple light soon became too much, practically blinding you until the power shut off completely, the accelerator overloading the system. Catching yourself as the ship violently rocked, the power shortly coming back, your eyebrows furrowed as the alarm began to ring, screaming at Schmidt as the warning for ‘system overload’ presented itself on the screen.

“Schmidt! Tell me something!”

“It says it hit 602-”

Before Schmidt could finish his sentence, the glass in the room shattered, sending everyone ducking to the ground. You groaned at the bits of glass digging into you and how abruptly you were thrown to the ground. Pulling yourself to your knees, you lifted your hands up, flipping them over to see that your palms were covered with glass, small trickles of blood freckling your skin.

Looking over towards the main window, you squinted at the sight of the harsh light beaming in, the electricity buzzing picking up again. You covered your hands over your ears, the sound becoming almost too much for you. What the hell was happening now?

Before you could even ask, you felt your body suddenly lift off the ground and into the air, hitting the ceiling along with everyone else - pinned in place before being dropped to the ground again. This time you rolled to your back, letting out a cough as you tried to collect your thoughts.

The test failed. You along with many others would probably have some sort of injury that you and Acosta would have to look over later. The test failed and you only had two more tests now before...well....

When you sat up, you let out a sigh before grabbing the table in front of you, pulling yourself up before sitting in the chair. Your hands at this point were burning from the glass and your head was so heavy it felt like it was going to topple off your shoulders and roll to the ground. But there was no time to recover just yet, because this was just the beginning.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

After attempting to kill the fire and figure out what exactly was failing with the ship, everyone came back together in the main control room. Glass was still everywhere and the awful smell of smoke still stung your nose. You currently sat in front of Mundy, looking over his hands and picking out the glass with tweezers, your own hands wrapped now from you and Acosta treating one another before the others returned.

The hiss that came from Mundy made you jump, although you continued to work on his hands, pulling out the final pieces of glass from his left hand before wrapping it up to match his right. You looked up and smiled at him, letting his hands go as he stood up to gather around with the others.

You knew that panicking wasn’t going to help anything, but the feeling in your stomach wasn’t going away and it was hard to not lash out when Volkov and Schmidt were at it again.

“For once, Volkov! Could you please just shut up?” You snapped, your back facing away from him as you rubbed at your temples.

“Enough! All of you!” You tensed at the sound of the Commander’s voice booming over the arguing that was going on. He didn’t have to say it for you to know, but you all sounded like a bunch of toddlers throwing tantrums.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you chewed on your bottom lip as you calmed down, or at least attempted to. You were doing fine until Hamilton spoke up.

“It isn’t here.” Hamilton explained, a worried expression washed over her face. The color was drained from her face, as if she saw a ghost.

Spinning in your seat, you watched as the Commander headed towards Hamilton, standing beside her as he looked down at the screen. What wasn’t there? Was it the frequency for Mission Control like Schmidt suggested. No, it was much worse.

“The Earth...it isn’t there,” Hamilton rushed, “I...can’t find anything.”

“We must have got turned around, moved during firing.” The Commander suggested.

“Well it’s big, blue, full of angry people. Keep looking, you’ll find it.” Mundy pressed, now hovering like many others over the station that Hamilton was at.

Standing now, your own worry began to sink in. How in all names holy did you just lose Earth? Making your way now beside Mundy, you watched Hamilton as she continued to look over the monitors for Earth, still unable to find anything.

“I’ve double checked the radio target, but the target’s gone.”

“Guys, the system is scrambled!” Mundy reminded, trying his best to remain calm.

“Hamilton is right,” Looking over towards Schmidt, your heart sank to your stomach. You didn’t want to believe that Hamilton was right, but it seemed as though she was. “It’s-it’s not here. We’re not picking up any signals!”

“The entire Earth is not gone!” You finally cried, tears filling your eyes. “We didn’t just lose Earth!”

As everyone around you began to frantically look through the monitors, your brain went to your family. To Mama, Papa, to Mila and Joseph. Did you lose them? No, no you couldn’t have.

You didn’t wait around to hear Volkov point blame at Schmidt, when you didn’t see the Earth on the external cameras, you pushed by Mundy and made your way out of the room, rushing down the hall to begin looking out the windows for yourself.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

As you looked out the window that was outside of your own quarters, you felt the whimper escape your throat, your body rocking slightly before your attention turned towards your room, rushing in suddenly and towards your computer, typing in Joseph’s name to start a video call. You knew it was a long shot, but you could only hope Joseph would answer.

Staring at the screen through your tears, feeling some finally begin to spill over, you watched as the call searched for a signal - feeling like forever until finally-

/COMMUNICATIONS ➤ NO SIGNAL FOUND

“No...no...no!” Wiping away your tears from your face, you frantically retried the call. Waiting until the same error message popped up. Sinking into your chair, you stared at the picture of your family, the red error message burning into your eyes.

So this was it. The weight of possible damnation staring in front of you. How could something go so right, yet so wrong in the matter of just seconds?

You tried one more time to call Joseph, watching as the connection buffered before the same message popped up again. Letting out a shaky sigh, you dropped your head and cried until no more tears could fall from your eyes. The overwhelming sense of fear filling your body.

After taking a moment to recollect yourself, you stood up and wiped your face, heading to the mirror to look over yourself. No matter how hard you wiped away your tears, it was still so evident that you had been crying. You didn’t want anyone to see you like that - knowing that you were cracking under pressure.

“Get ahold of yourself,” You whispered, staring at your reflection in the mirror. You shook your head once before fixing your hair, wiping away the tears and letting out a sigh, shaking your arms and legs as if to get all the nerves out, “You’re going to see them again. Crying isn’t going to solve anything.”

You took one final look at yourself in the mirror before nodding, taking a final look at the screen once more, looking at the picture of your family.

“I’ll find a way home. I’m not going to stop until I’m back with you.”

Despite knowing that it was just a picture, you waited a moment, as if waiting for them to respond before exiting your quarters and moving down the hall, back to meet with the others.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

When you walked into the common room, everything felt heavy. Despite the room filled with everyone now, besides the Commander, nobody spoke a word. Sniffling, you quickly wiped your face to make sure no new tears were falling before making your way to the table, taking a seat at the end in between Acosta and Tam.

Pulling your knees up to your chest, you hugged your legs to you, staring ahead of you at the table. You swallowed the thick lump in your throat, choking on the whimper that dared to escape. Clearing your throat, you tried to pretend that you weren’t on the verge of crying, coughing once before hearing the corridor doors open.

“Alright, here’s what we’re up against.” The Commander spoke as he sat down at the other end of the table. Your attention turned to the end of the table where he was seated, listening to what he had to say.

“The station’s got problems we don’t have tools to fix. At this point, looking for home is a luxury for us. First, we need to survive.”

“We need to consider, evidence or not...that we might have ended the lives of billions of people,” Acosta interjected. You sank in your seat, your eyes watering. You hadn’t thought of it like that. Did you destroy the Earth? Did you wipe out your home planet instead of just get shot to some other part of the galaxy?

“We didn’t destroy the Earth,” Schmidt explained, surprisingly calm, “We just...lost it.”

It was Mundy who let out a laugh, and you couldn’t blame him, it was almost a joke as to how Schmidt had put it.

“Totally routine day. Copy that.”

Shaking his head, Commander Kiel motioned towards Mundy and then Schmidt, “Mundy, take Schmidt and deal with the O2.”

Looking up, surprised to hear that the Commander wanted Schmidt with Mundy, you smiled to yourself - it seemed like any sense of normality was off the table now.

“I’m a physicist.” Schmidt reminded.

“And now you work for Mundy,” Adjusting your position in your seat, you leaned forward against the table, listening as the Commander continued on with orders, “Tam, you and Monk will search and repair all power leaks. Maybe we can get this temperature under control. Hamilton, Volkov, test all circuits, then we can start looking for home.”

“When the Shepard overloaded, something went wrong with the station’s orientation system.” Volkov explained.

“We’ll replace the circuits-”

“No shit, if that’s the problem!” Volkov cut Mundy off, annoyed at the obvious solution, “But um, it might be the gyro.” You watched as Volkov messed with the side of his face, rubbing under his right eye as if something were bothering him.

You tried to ignore Volkov, your attention pulled to the Commander when you realized that he hadn’t assigned you to do anything. Watching as everyone headed out, you stood up and made your way towards the other end of the table.

“Commander? What can I do? You didn’t assign me anything.” You pointed out, toying with the bandages around your fingers from where you were biting at earlier.

When you caught that the Commander was looking at the bandages, you quickly dropped your hands, as if trying to hide them. You watched as he smiled weakly, standing up before placing a hand to your shoulder.

“Yeah, listen...I want you to go check on all medical supplies. Actually, supplies in general. See how much we have and figure out how long it’ll last us.” He nodded and went to turn, going to meet with the others before you stopped him.

“Wait, that’s all? Commander, I’m sure I can be of help elsewhere.” You explained, taking a step forward towards him. The Commander’s steps slowed to a stop, his shoulders sinking as he let out a sigh before turning around.

“When you were going through your interviews and evaluations, what was your weakest eval?” He questioned, perplexing you until it came to you.

“M-My psychological evaluation, Commander,”

“Yes, exactly,” He took a step towards you and placed both hands on your shoulders, “Like Hamilton, you have family you’re close with, which oftentimes brings more stress to you both than the rest of us.”

“I don’t understa-”

“Your fingers. Don’t think I haven’t noticed. You’re under a lot of stress right now, anxious about not being able to contact your family. Right now you going and trying to mess with wirings or the systems is not safe. Not for you, or the rest of us on here.”

You felt insulted. So what if you were experiencing a slight breakdown - who wouldn’t be in your shoes? You passed your evaluation, barely, but you did. You felt like a child, not being able to play with the big kids because you were too small.

“This isn’t fair, Commander. I’m just as much a part of this crew as everyone else. There must be something I can do to help!”

Pulling away, the Commander sighed and shook his head, “I want you to go to the medbay and go through medical supplies, that’s what you can do. Please, don’t take this as punishment. You are helping,” He paused and straightened up, clearing his throat, “Now I don’t want to hear anymore of it.”

And with that, the Commander left you in the common room, alone with your thoughts. Feeling your hands balled into fists, you looked around the room, tears welling in your eyes before you let out a laugh, shaking your head.

“Incompetent...is that what I am now?” You squeezed your nails into your palms before feeling the tension inside of you soon pop, leaving you back to your empty state of mind. Wiping your cheeks, you mumbled a string of curse words as you headed out of the common room and down to the medbay where you were tasked to look into the medical supplies.

When you arrived at the medical bay, you shut the door behind you, pulling on a pair of gloves before grabbing the clipboard that contained all the medicines on file and quantities. Opening the first cabinet, you went through the list, verifying that everything was in order and that you had the correct amount of vials that were listed on the paper.

You grew tired of the task quickly, rubbing your eyes and blinking as you stared at the paper. Looking up from the clipboard, you tossed it down on the examination table before sitting at the stool, closing your eyes to take a break, soon drifting off into an unexpected slumber.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆

“There are a few that I’m worried about joining you on the ship, Commander,” You overheard someone - a woman - state. You could hear her flipping through files, searching for the right paperwork.

You were the last of the crew to receive your final evaluations before departing onto the Cloverfield Station. You knew something was off when you finished your psychological evaluation and the doctor left in a hurry, not stating much other than you were free to go. Now you were seated outside of the examination room, waiting to receive your results from the Commander, toying with the hem of your shirt as you listened to the doctor and Commander speak.

“She hardly passed her psychological evaluation. Her temperamental issues, not as severe as Volkov or Schmidt, are still high - dangerous when unstable. I fear that she may become a threat on board if the wrong situation should arise.”

Frowning, you held your stomach as it began to flip, making you sick. You had always known of your own mental health issues, of course, but to the extent the doctor was putting it made you sound incompetent of joining the crew - and you knew that you had a right to be on board just as much as the rest of them.

“So what are you saying, Doc? If Volkov and Schmidt are good to be on board with their own temperamental issues, what is the concern with her?”

“It’s not that she has anger issues, but something more depressing. Being in space, without the sun, away from family, it can send someone into a state of panic. I fear that her being around those medical supplies, especially when she is having an episode, will not only harm her, but the others too.”

The silence that fell over the Commander and doctor made your heart sink. So this was it? All this time, all this money, all this preparation just to be told no right before boarding? Shaking your head, you stood up and went to leave, not bothering to stay to be told what you already knew.

But before you could make it to the middle of the room, the Commander’s voice startled you to a stop.

“She is no threat to this crew and belongs on board the Cloverfield just as much as the rest of them do. Until I see her pose a threat, I don’t give a damn what cruel ideas you have set in mind for her.”

As you turned your attention back towards the doorway of the room the doctor and Commander were in, you felt your cheeks become red when you saw the Commander, in a huff now standing in front of you.

“Commander, I-”

“You’re all cleared for boarding. Go change into your uniform and prepare to meet with the others. We leave at sunrise tomorrow.” The Commander quickly said, not letting you get the chance to even attempt to apologize for eavesdropping.

Your mouth turned into a small smile, nodding before turning and making your way out of the room and down to the room you were staying in on base, the closer you got to your room, the bigger your smile became.

Waking with a start, you tried to catch your breath as the sound of screaming came from outside. Jolting up, you made your way towards the door before stopping halfway as the entire crew came in, carrying, well, that you didn’t know.

“Clear the table! Quick we need to get these pipes out of her!” You heard Acosta yell, motioning for you to clear off the examination table.

Nodding, you frantically made your way to the table, pushing off the clipboard and other things you had piled on before stepping back as the crew surrounded the table, setting the mysterious woman down before holding her as she thrashed about.

“Who is this?” You asked, squeezing your way beside Acosta, holding up a light as he began to cut away her pant leg, revealing the wiring that was going through her. Gasping, you held your hand to your mouth, trying not to gag at the grotesque sight.

Nobody seemed to be responsive, in their own world as they tried to calm the woman down, pinning her until Acosta was able to inject her with something in the leg to numb her pain and put her to sleep while he operated on her. When the woman was finally asleep, the room filled with just the panting of everyone on the crew, you looked up at everyone.

“I’ll ask again, who the hell is that-”

“We don’t know! Okay? We found her in the wall, wrapped in the wirings and screaming.” Schmidt exclaimed, his face red.

Glaring towards him, you shook your head and pointed your flashlight at him, letting the light hit his eye, “Don’t sit there and talk to me like that. I wasn’t there. You expect me to just sit back and watch as some random person comes into the medical bay?”

Schmidt held his hand up to block the light from hitting his eye, “Would you get that light out of my face?”

You dropped the light, watching as he dropped his hand before you shot the light back up to his face, blinding him once again, a smirk toying on your mouth before jumping at the sound of the Commander.

“Enough! Acosta, finish looking after her and give us an update when you have one.” You watched as Acosta nodded, continuing to look over her. As you started to get your own set of medical supplies to help, you were stopped by the Commander, placing a hand over the drawer before you could get anything out.

“No, not you. Go to your room and cool off for a minute and then you can come back and help. Right now, you’re on the brink of-”

“Of what?” You snapped, turning your attention to the Commander. You ignored the rest of the crew in the room who tried to not so obviously watch and listen, but you kind of made it hard when you were pulling a scene. “I’m sorry that I’m reacting like a normal human being, Commander. But to be quite frank, we’re fucked. I’m not going to pretend that we aren’t, especially when you have a strange woman who you claim to have come from the wall lying on the examination table!”

Your face, now red, stared up at the Commander who seemed to be blank faced. When he didn’t say anything, you fell back on your heels, scoffing.

“Fine, fine. I’ll go. I’ll go to my room and suck my thumb because evidently that’s all I’m good for!” Moving around the Commander, you pushed past Schmidt, knocking him to the side before storming out of the medical bay and down to your quarters. It was times like now that you wished the doors were manual, so you could slam your door shut and let the irritation seep out of you.

When you arrived at your quarters, you pulled off your medical gloves, tossing them in the trash before unzipping your suit, decided to change into your sweatpants and t-shirt as you didn’t expect to be doing much else today.

“Stupid...incompetent...might as well just say it to my face instead of dance around it,” You mumbled, pulling up your sweatpants as you looked at yourself in the mirror. You pulled your hair from your ponytail and shook your hair loose, letting it fall down your shoulders.

Hearing the door open and shut, you looked through the mirror to see Schmidt, his hands behind his back as he made his way towards you.

“What do you want?” You asked flatly, crossing your arms over your chest. Even in that moment, you were too annoyed to even want to see him, and usually you always wanted to see Schmidt. When he didn’t answer you, you uncrossed your arms and pointed to the door, ready to kick him out before being suddenly blinded by the light.

Flinching, you jumped at the light and closed your eyes, groaning as you held your hand up to block the light, “Okay, I get it, I’m sorry - but you really pissed me off, you know that?” As you blinked your eyes back open, adjusting to the light, you tried to not smile as Schmidt made his way to you, setting the flashlight on your desk before wrapping his arms around you.

“When don’t I piss you off?” He asked, smiling down at you as he moved his hands under your shirt, rubbing your waist. Moving your hands up, you placed your hands flat on his chest before pushing him away, your own smile now creeping onto your face as you went and sat on your bed.

“When you’re asleep,” You teased before cocking your head to the side, “Actually, no, even in your sleep you piss me off. Did you know you snore? God, it’s awful. Makes me want to suffocate you with my pillow.”

Smiling, you watched as he laughed, making his way to sit beside you on your bed, pulling you close to him as he kissed your cheek, moving down to your jaw before up towards your ear, “I know something else you could suffocate me with.”

You giggled at the feeling of him biting on your earlobe before sitting back against your pillows, your legs now on his lap.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be? Something important to do? Or were you put on babysitting duty?” You shook your head and looked at your fingers, examining the bandages to make sure none had to be changed.

Shaking his own head, Schmidt looked down at your feet that were rested in his lap before rubbing your ankles, “Tam is meeting me at the X-Deck in ten minutes, but I wanted to stop and see you first after what happened in the medba-”

“What happened in the medbay was nothing, Ernst. I’m fine.” You knew that lying to him was pointless, but right now you didn’t want to explain to him what you were feeling, why you were feeling it, and so on. To you, it felt useless given everything else that was going around.

When you didn’t hear him respond, you looked up and frowned, seeing his own disappointed expression on his face. “Look, I’ll tell you later, okay? I’ll leave my door unlocked for you.” You leaned forward and pressed your lips to his, holding his face in your hands.

At the feeling of his own hands on your face, holding you steady as he deepened the kiss, you sighed against him, wishing that the moment could continue. Pulling back, you stared up at him, “You should go,” You explained gently, leaning forward to kiss him one more time.

Schmidt nodded, mimicking your actions and kissing you as well one last time before moving your legs, standing up off your bed before looking back down at you.

“I’ll be here at the usual time. I’ll see you later, okay?”

Nodding, you smiled and watched as he turned, heading out of your room and going to the X-Deck to meet with Tam, leaving you to your thoughts again.

When the doors shut behind him, you let out the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, laying back on your bed and stared up at the ceiling.

Perhaps the Commander was right, maybe the mission finally cracked you.

Little Miracle

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende) Word count: 1,900 Warning: A few curse words. 

Author’s Note: This is part of the canon scene where Ethan and MC watch over Dolores’s baby, from Ethan’s POV. I was inspired by the line from the book that says they “talked long into the night.”

Catch up here.

The sterile room of the NICU feels stifling that night, the fluorescent lights shining on them both almost blinding. Ethan had been in that room many times before, but never like this. Never with a strain on his mind and heart so painful, he thinks he might burst from it. Now, sitting in the love seat, counting each of the baby's breaths, he feels as though he is in a foreign place—a vastly terrible one where his dearest friend does not exist anymore. 

The knot in his throat returns. 

Dammit. 

It threatens to constrict his breathing in the most debilitating way and he hates it. Urgently, he suppresses the flood of emotion at once, turning instead to glance at Lilac next to him. 

The young doctor is not looking at him. In the silence that stretches between them, she stares at the linoleum floor, her tear-streaked face is pale, her eyes bleary and red. The weight of their previous conversation hangs over them and he is surprised to discover it is not an unpleasant one. Instead, her quiet presence at his side feels oddly… comforting. More so than the many glasses of scotch he was planning on drowning in had he not stayed. 

Sensing his eyes on her, she glances up and offers him a tired smile which Ethan returns without hesitation. The moment lingers and before either of them can say anything, a soft cooing distracts them as the baby stretches.

An inexplicable warmth pierces through Ethan as he very gently offers Dolores' baby his hand. Small fingers close around his, weakly, yet powerful enough to steal his breath away. 

“She named him after you,” she informs him tenderly, as though the words she is offering him are made of the most delicate crystal. 

A small wave of shock courses through him as he looks at the name. 

Ethan Hudson. 

His throat tightens painfully yet again and all he can do is swallow. 

“I...see she did.”

A small silence.

Her soothing, kind voice saves him from his thoughts when she comments, “You must have known Dolores a long time.”

Ethan busies himself with carefully removing his hand from the baby's grasp. Despite the painful ache in his throat, he finds the words. “Over ten years. When I first emailed her I only meant to check in. But she was recently divorced, feeling alone, so she insisted on coffee.” In spite of himself, he smiles at the memory of the lively yet persistent young woman who had been so determined to befriend him. “And then it turned into more emails and meeting once every couple months for Sunday roast.”

“She sounds like a good friend.”

She was, he thinks before his mind catches up with him. When it does, the past tense stabs him like a knife to the side. 

“I didn’t make friends easily when I started here,” he begins, pausing only briefly to keep his voice from breaking. “So I was always grateful to her for that.”

The words finish ringing out in the quiet room and he swallows, suddenly exhausted from fighting back the excruciating pain of Dolores's death. As he falls silent, prickling eyes moving to the baby she fought so fiercely to protect, Ethan allows himself to mourn. The torrent of sorrow hits him is like the opening of a floodgate. 

He is certain he will drown in his grief until a soft, warm hand slides over his, looking small and delicate against his own. 

Ethan remains very still. 

“I’m so sorry this happened,” she murmurs, the sincerity her voice offers something akin to a caress. 

Ethan's eyes remain locked on their joined hands. Something about the sight and the feel of her soft skin against his tears away at his pride until all he wants to do is hold on to her desperately. Instead, he looks up to meet her eyes, unprepared for the quiet compassion in their depths. It hits him so abruptly that he is unable to look away, feeling something foreign stir in the depths of his chest, as consequential as the first blooms of Spring. 

“Me too.” 

As the seconds tick by and he becomes very aware that her hand remains on his, his pulse picks up, clamoring at his ears. With much effort, he forces himself to pull away. 

“I think we need coffee.”

“I can get some,” she says, already rising to her feet, unaware of the scorching trail her touch left behind on his skin. 

Ethan shakes his head. “No, I’ll go.” 

He leaves the room in quick strides, grateful for the brief moment of solitude. Being alone, however, proves to be a small torment since he is unable to suppress thoughts of earnest, kindhearted eyes breaking down every barrier he had stubbornly built that evening. Steaming mugs of coffee in hand, he returns to the NICU with an eager haste he refuses to acknowledge, missing the tendrils of her soft companionship. 

When he enters the room, Ethan finds her lovingly murmuring to the baby. “That’s it little tadpole. In and out.”

Lilac notices his arrival, offering him a sheepish smile at being caught. Cheeks blazing, she accepts the coffee gratefully. “This doesn’t taste like the cafeteria coffee,” she observes approvingly. 

“This is from my private coffee machine. As soon as I got an office, I vowed never to drink that caffeinated dishwater again.” He watches her take this information in with knowing amusement. “Nobody knows I have it so…”

Quite seriously, she vows, “I won’t tell a soul.”

Ethan chuckles, shaking his head, the first true flash of amusement that evening. 

They fall into a comfortable silence after that until the attending overseeing the case during the night shift strolls in to check on the baby. Satisfied with her findings, she quickly jots down the information on his chart. 

“Our little miracle,” she comments quietly, both to the baby and to them, before leaving the room. 

Ethan snuffs the urge to scoff at the word miracle. Lilac, of course, catches this and arches a brow at him. 

“You don't believe in those,” she says, not as a question but as an undeniable observation. 

Ethan hesitates to answer until he glances at her. There is no trace of judgment or derision on her lovely face, just fatigue from already spending several hours keeping watch. 

“There is no scientific basis to account for them,” he allows. “Frankly, I'm a little surprised you believe in them despite choosing to spend your career with facts and empirical evidence.” He is careful to keep all sarcasm out of his tone though he doubts he is successful. Years of being a sardonic little shit are hard to break. 

Lilac doesn't seem to mind, however, because she gives him an indulging sort of smile. “It is because I have studied science and facts that I am hesitant to dismiss their existence,” she explains. “Even with everything we know, there are some things science or reason cannot explain.”

“There are too many variables at play in a single minute, Rookie,” he counters. “When something occurs that we cannot explain away, it means a plethora of those variables aligned to create a perfect outcome.”

Lilac takes a careful sip of coffee, watching him over the rim of her mug. Not for the first time, he can see her mind working, formulating an argument. And like many times before, he longs to know the mystery of her thoughts.

“And getting that outcome despite all the innumerable possibilities,” she begins thoughtfully. “Isn't that a little miraculous?”

“No.”

Lilac laughs at the resolute way in which he shoots her down, though the sound is far from mocking. 

“Are you then crediting what science cannot explain to coincidence and luck, Dr. Ramsey?” 

He briefly pauses at that, thoughts stumbling. The haughty way in which she lifts the mug to her lips, concealing a smug smile, tells him she had intended to stump him. Instead of feeling annoyed, as he should, he feels a thrill of approval and something else entirely. 

“Not at all,” he returns when he recovers. “I am merely pointing out that there is still much we don't know as a species. When something inexplicable takes place, the real cause is most likely attributed to something we haven't learned yet.”

Despite looking utterly exhausted, her eyes glint, as though she had expected that very answer. 

 “'If he is confronted with a miracle as an irrefutable fact he would rather disbelieve his own senses than admit the fact.'”

Ethan blinks. 

“Are you seriously quoting Dostoevsky at me, Rookie?” 

This time, she dissolves into self deprecating laughter. “Sorry,” she says, scrunching her nose in the most endearing of ways. “I studied him as an elective when I was in my undergrad program so it's hard to break out of the habit of being a pretentious ass.”

“A pre-med student with a penchant for world literature,” he observes, allowing himself to relax into the air of amusement her laughter catalyzes. 

“I was downright insufferable.”

“So not much has changed.”

Lilac throws him what is meant to be an unamused glare, but she ruins it by losing the battle against a smile. Ethan grins, unable to help it. 

“What else do you walk around quoting at people who disagree with you?” he asks, genuinely curious. 

“Nothing as severe as Russian literature,” she quips. “I save that for the most stubborn of the people I argue with.” 

Ethan rolls his eyes though he too fails to stifle a smile. He begrudgingly accepts that he enjoys bantering with her, though he would never admit it out loud. 

“Be lucky I didn't quote Harry Potter at you,” Lilac continues sagely. “I am notorious for that, too.”

“There's nothing in the Potter books about miracles,” he points out. 

Lilac shoots him a surprised look. “You've read them?” 

“Yes, I read the few that were out when I was in high school. They had midnight release events at bookstores when a new one was published.”

She stares at him in stunned silence. 

“You went to that? That is so…” 

“Don't say–” 

“Cute.” 

The word sends a jolt through him, made worse by the sound of her tired but giddy laughter. Ethan allows her to enjoy the mirth, even if it's at his expense. If he was being honest, he thoroughly enjoyed it too, feeling his anguish ease with each passing moment. 

“Did you dress up?” she asks, eyes alight with excitement. 

“We are not speaking of this anymore.”

“You did, didn't you?” she manages to say through a wave of fresh laughter. “Who did you dress up as? Harry? Dumbledore? Snape?” 

Ethan makes a disgusted sound. “Don't insult me.”

Her laughter is uncontrollable by now and he can't help but join. “Good answer,” she commends. 

Bodies close on the love seat, they both relax further into their seats, contentment lingering in their fading smiles. Ethan allows himself one good look at her as she becomes momentarily distracted by her phone. The harsh lightning of the NICU washes her out, especially in her sleep-deprived, exhausted state, but somehow she still looks unfairly beautiful. Yet, there is something entirely different about her, though he is far too tired to decipher what. 

Lilac glances up to catch him staring. 

“What?” 

“Nothing.”

Her previous words echo in his mind.

 “There are some things science or reason cannot explain.”

Ethan thinks of Dolores and the unwavering friendship she offered him despite being surly and unapproachable. He thinks of the unconditional love she held for a being she had not even met yet, so profound she gave her life for him. He thinks of Lilac, offering him compassion and companionship despite his every effort to push her away. 

Lilac glances glances his way, beaming at him radiantly. As he returns the smile, his heart feeling ten times lighter than it did an hour ago, he admits to himself that she was right. 

______

Author’s Note: I don’t know what that was but if you made it here, thank you! 

I think I will skip the baseball game scene and go on to the fMRI scene. I might have that be slightly AU and have Ethan ask MC the questions. Let me know what you think <3 

______

Tags:  @openheart12 | @ethandaddyramsey | @noboundariesplease | @silverlitskies | @infinitiestones | @flyawayboo | @paulfwesley | @hatescapsicum | @myusualnerdyself | @thatysn | @choicesyouplayandmore | @chasingrobbie | @trappedinfandoms | @togetherwearerapture | @nooruleman | @caseyvalentineramsey | @axwalker | @parkerattano | @i-bloody-love-drake-walker | @kaavyaethanramsey | @edith-eggs1 | @choices-lurker | @jens-diamondchoices | @tefigranger | @ethanrcmsey | @coffeebeandragon | @senator-adrian-raines-wifey | @aestheticartwriting | @binny1985 | @mvalentine | @sanchita012 | @drethanramslay | @ramseysno1rookie | @takeharryandgo | @aworldoffandoms | @desmaranj | @ josieplayschoices | @magicalshepherdtreeprofessor| @oofchoices | @ethxnrxmsey | @octobereighth | @colossalpainintheass | @kopenheart12 | @lilyvalentine | @honeyandsunfl0wers | @virtualrain202 | @enmchoices | @tyrilstouch | @rookie-ramsey​

@dulceghernandez |  @lion-ess24 | @emotionalswift2 | @the-soot-sprite |

Bumblebee (2018)

Good Evening worshippers, and welcome! Today the Cult of Cult goes a little more mainstream than usual. It's been a while since i've tackled a big Hollywood superhero film. But I do believe that these sorts of films will be remembered fondly my small groups of people in the future, especially the smaller films that are being overshadowed by the big bad MCU, films like 2018s Bumblebee.

The Messsage

Bumblebee was originally released as a prequel to the Transformers franchise that had started all the way back in 2007. However, reboots had really hit the market as a way to breath new life into struggling franchises, and the Transformers series had already gone to just about every absurd extreme you could imagine. No changes were made to the movie as it was released, but with it's more childish and heartfelt tone, and a new aesthetic that was softer, smoother, and all around just generally more pleasing to the eye, I think it was a wise choice to rebrand Bumblebee as a new beginning.

Our story is of two friends from two very different worlds and how they came together. Our first character is Bumblebee, then known as B- number sign/it doesn't really matter. Not yet Bumblebee is a soldier set with securing a safe location for the Autobots to regroup and make their home as they suffer a pretty serious defeat on cybertron at the hands of the tyrannical Decepticons. Optimus Prime, here again voiced by Peter Cullen and looking so much more like himself, assigns this task to Bumblebee promising him that they will meet him there when the time comes. Then Optimus fucks off for the rest of the run time making way for our little hero.

Bumblebee lands on Earth and is immediately set upon by John Cena and his military goon squad. It probably would have been wise for Bumblebee to avoid John Cena but in his defense, he couldn't see him. Hardy har har. In his attempt to flee his voice box is damaged, he seeks sanctuary by taking the form of a run down little VW bug, and suffers from amnesia.

Then we have Charlie. Charlie is not like other girls. She likes cars, all the retro music, which wasn't retro when the movie takes place, so I'm supposed to just think she's a rocker but it kinda seems like she'll listen to just about anything. I think in 2018 liking Motorhead and The Smiths (who are used ad nauseum in this movie) is perfectly common, but I feel like in the 80s that was a much different and much older attitude to take.

Anyway Charlie's poor family lives in a super fucking nice house and are poor because the dialogue keeps insisting they are so it must be true despite all the shit they have that actually poor people would sell blood and teeth to attain, but hell, this is Hollywood and Hollywood poor is like regular people upper middle class. Charlies family is so poor that instead of giving her a one time graduation/birthday present to buy a part for a car she already has, they just give her a moped, She also spends all her time at a pull apart where the manager (who might be her uncle that wasn't super clear) is willing to just give her a Volkswagen so I don't understand why she didn't already have the project car up and running. Whatever, it's a plot contrivance. All you need to know is that Charlie is tenacious and hard around the edges cuz her dad is dead and she's not yet mature enough to process that in a healthy way. Maybe her character arch will teach her to let others in, we'll have to find out.

There's also a wacky nerd named Memo, and some bad guys, and John Cena. They are all also pretty archetypal and contrived and don't really do anything of note that isn't just filling a beat that this kind of movie needs to walk. Charlie starts Bumblebee up, discovers he's a robot and the two begin to bond. Charlie learns to make a friend, and bumblebee is learning about himself. They get into hijinks and get revenge on a bully girl who makes Regina George look like a saint, she pretty much only picks on Charlie exclusively for having a dead dad.

The moment Bumblebee is woken back up, some technology goof em up that both he and Charlie are unaware of brings two Decepticon baddies into the picture. I don't remember their names, but since I love The Venture Brothers let's say they can be "Jet Boy and Jet Girl". Jet Boy and Jet Girl are sometimes cars, sometimes various flying military vehicles, and they make friends with the deep state and plan to get all the adrenochrome from all the orphans, or just to go find Bumblebee and beat his ass good cuz their bad guys. Let me tell y'all though, Jet Boy and Jet Girl are so bad that they don't even care that the government is listening when they reveal that they are planning on bringing a Decepticon Invasion and after they rough up Bumblebee real good they are going to destroy all life on this planet. So they start by killing a military scientist.

John Cena is after Bumblebee and he's homies with Jet Boy and Jet Girl until the military scientist butt dials him and he hears the evil plan. John Cena goes from heel to face and helps Bumblebee and Charlie save the day. It's a giant CG clusterfuck climax a la any superhero film in the last 10 years and I basically stopped watching. BumbleBee pulls a Hellraiser on Jet Boy, and then he hits Jet Girl with a freaking boat. Charlie uses her diving skills do dive down and save him, but he's a Giant Robot and he was okay and it was literally pointless for her to to except as a way to show that her character has completed her arch by doing the thing that was representative of her connection with her lost father.

Bumblebee turns into the Camaro from the first movie, meets up with Optimus prime, and the stage is set for this prequel to squeeze more prequels out. So it wasn't very creative, but was it bad? Let's find out.

Please Stand to receive the Benediction.

Best Aspect: Transform the Franchise

Bumblebee was directed by Travis Knight of Laika fame and it shows. This movie marks a stylistic change in the transformers franchise, as in it doesn't look like utter dog shit, but it also represents in many ways a tonal shift. It does hold on to a lot of gross sleaze that has unfortunately been forcibly jammed into the DNA of the franchise but it also attempts to be a more heartfelt entry. The characters of Bumblebee might all be sort of a waste of time, but at least they are doing something with emotions, even if the emotions of the characters are only explored as deeply as a children's cartoon I'm glad they are there. In the previous installments the only thing the characters did between running from action piece to seizure inducing action piece was drool over underage girls like a bunch of chimpanzees at the facility where they test experimental E.D. meds. It was nice to see that at least somewhat tampered. This transformers movie feels more like it's for kids and young teenagers, and strangely that more friendly tone makes for a much less juvenile product.

Worst Aspect: Remember I Love the 80s from the 2000s

I hope you really like Stranger Things. I do, but because Stranger Things was so successful it' s going to be everywhere. Not true Stranger Things just 80s nostalgia porn. This 80s nostalgia is going to be forced on you whether you like it or not, and it's not going to be fun. It's gonna be in your shows, in your music, in your Sunday like Bacon in 2010. It's that or Marvel Franchise Brand Whedonisms. Bumblebee is that brave movie that says, "Why not both?" It would seem fitting that a property as quintessentially 80s as Transformers should feel completely comfortable doing a period piece set in the 80's but it's so fucking half hearted it's depressing. It wasn't done to appreciate the roots of the IP, it was done to cash in on a trend and it feels it. All they did was throw up a date and insufferably force an 80s soundtrack down your throat as if that was enough to convince you that this movie needed to be set during this time. Other than that you could have told me this film was set in 2007 and I couldn't tell you any different.

Best Character: Charlie's an Angel

I liked Charlie. Sure her Arc is predictable, her taste is dumb, and she isn't exactly a master of her own destiny to any degree. But at least she is a woman in a transformers movie who's got something going on. Sure she's defined entirely by grief, but that sure is better than pretending that being able to work on cars is a feminist character trait instead of a weird fetish thing. They certainly do that thing with Charlie, but at least it's not the only thing they throw at the wall. Bumblebee is by no means out of the woods in this department, but it garners a lot of goodwill for trying. Like a racist uncle who just started his journey out of ignorance, but hasn't yet realized he has to stop asking mortifying questions to the barista at Starbucks. Okay, maybe that's an extreme metaphor. I'm saying that perhaps Charlie is not a great character but she's a great character for a Transfomers movie.

Worst Character: It's JOOOOHHHNNNN CEEEENA!!!!

Why is John Cena in this movie? I don't hate the guy, but his character seems pointless. You could remove him from the movie completely and replace him with any one of the random military goons at any point and it changes nothing. What was with that dumb salute at the end? It seems like they put him in this movie in post and it was just to pump up cast list. I wish he was given anything to work with. I can't remember his characters name, and it's not like John Cena did a bad job, I was just annoyed every time they kept giving him hero shots. I felt like I was watching a trailer for a different movie.

Best Actor: Optimal Primo!

Every time Peter Cullen speaks I want to listen. There's a reason they haven't had Chris Pratt or somebody with a bigger name come in and take over the role at this point. He's why the audience keep coming back. Peter Cullen IS Optimus Prime, and there's no changing that. He also wins twice. He's the best actor in the movie AND he's barely in the movie. Good call Peter.

Worst Actor: Mean Girls 2, Meaner and Girlier

I don't want to be cruel so I'm not going to go into to much detail, but there's an actress in this film who's performance is so mustache twirlingly evil and stupid that it ruined my suspension of disbelief when i knew going in that i was about to endure a 2 hour toy commercial about robots that turn into cars. Beldar Conehead was a more convincing human being than Tina.

Best Effect: Goo Be Gone

I really appreciated when the bad guys shot the government nerd into a blast of snot. That was pretty fun for me. Best part of the movie hands down.

Worst Effect: Live Action?

Bumblebee is a cartoon. It's a great looking cartoon but it doesn't sell itself that way. If we were doing a Roger Rabbit thing I'd have no gripes. However, I think CG is just getting worse. I'm criticizing this and it's still lightyears better than the previous entry's on the franchise. No transformation or fight sequence in Bumble Bee had me straining to make sense of what I was looking at. I think it was a great idea to start using some basic shapes and outlines to these characters, and return somewhat to their 80s designs. But at certain points, especially when there were no humans in the shot, i was pretty convinced I was watching Clone Wars. There may not be anyway around this, as the Transformers concept might not be able to be pulled off in any more effective manner. It's a minor gripe, but I just didn't think it looked like anything other than a very expensive cartoon, and in this franchise that's a compliment, because it least it looked like SOMETHING!

Best Scene: Space Opera

I am not a Transformers fan. I missed the boat on the cartoon as a kid. I would sometimes catch it at friends houses but I was more into Batman, Star Wars, and Ninja Turtles. By the time I came onto the scene the world had moved on to Beast Wars. I did one day arbitrarily decide that my favorite Transformer was Sound Wave. He looked great in this. I am a big fan of the return to form with a lot of the character designs in this. They really did keep the things that worked from the other adaptations, and they are steadily removing the things that didn't. For this reason, the scenes on Cybertron, particularly the battle with Soundwave (i prefer for personal reasons) looked great and were exciting to watch. I remember thinking Cybertron used to look like a Marilyn Manson shot a music video from inside to dumpster. This is so much better.

Worst Scene: Blocking the Box

There's a scene in Bumblebee where Charlie's family decides the best way to save their daughter was to cause a pile up of vehicles in an intersection, and it's pure contrived writing that saved any character in that sequence from being killed in a horrific traffic accident. It was stupid, played for laughs, and it wasn't exciting as much as it was anxiety inducing. I also thought that there was no reason the covert military group covering up extraterrestrial life wouldn't just disappear this family of fucking morons in their little piece of shit car. The logic of the scene was just so childish like, "No they won't hit me, I'm a good person."

Summary

Bumblebee may be remembered fondly in a decade. I think especially if the Transformers franchise were to end here. It didn't get the publicity of the other films, and that really is a shame. For my money, this was the best Transformers movie so far. I was very tempted to give Bumblebee a C, it does just enough to right what was wrong from the other movies to make me appreciate all that work. This movie has heart, and if you are at all into Transformers then l think you should see it. It's still pretty stupid, and pretty basic. It's not offering anything new to the genre, and it feels like a commercial for more movies. I really wish we could just get movies that want to tell a story. I thought it over and decided that it wasn't fair not to grade Bumblebee on it's own merits. Bumblebee is substantially better than the films that preceded it, but that's not saying a lot, when the films that preceded it are joyless exercises in self abuse.

Overall Grade: D

Self-Promo Sunday: “Under the Weather”

This is just a little post-Neverland one-shot, taking place sometime after they've returned to Storybrooke with Henry. Pan's gone, and there is no second curse. It was probably originally inspired (some years ago) by cold January weather and my wondering how Hook manages to keep warm and not get sick on a freezing cold old ship. And cold January weather brought it back to mind today to dig out for Self-Promo Sunday. Anyway, pretty sweet and fluffy, I'll admit it, but I still hope you enjoy - even all these years later and after how much closer our pirate and princess became...

"Under the Weather"

By: @snowbellewells​

Also available on ff.net or AO3

If anyone had asked her, Emma Swan couldn't have explained why she felt the sudden prickling of concern in the back of her mind, nor the unexpected, pressing need to make sure he was alright. Shaking her head at the sheer ridiculousness of the idea, she had fought against her impulses all day. She had busied herself with paperwork and answered calls about power outages and other inconveniences that came with the cold, wintry Maine weather, but there weren't enough jobs by early afternoon to keep her mind from wandering back to him and her eyes from every so often floating up to check the clock.

David knew something was bothering her; Emma could feel her father's eyes studying her for clues to her agitation. However, he was also wise enough to bite his tongue and not ask questions. She wanted to tell him to go on home to Snow, and she would finish up. Yet she didn't, knowing that would only make him more curious. Resolutely, stubbornly, she kept finding any bit of busy work she could lay her hands on to stop the disconcerting waves of concern for him that were now rolling through her at regular intervals.

'He's a 300-year-old pirate captain, for Heaven's sake!' her mind berated her seeming irrationality. 'He can certainly take care of himself in a sleepy little town. What in the world could he need you for? You haven't had word of any kind of trouble…' Still, while all of these arguments made perfect, reasonable sense, Emma found they didn't soothe her unease in the slightest.

When the clock finally struck five, David stood casually, announcing that since they weren't busy he was going to head home and help Snow with supper, if Emma didn't need anything. Emma shook her head 'no' with a small smile, thanking him and saying she would see him shortly.

"You're sure I can't do anything else to help before I leave?" her father asked sincerely, again looking at her so closely that Emma knew he was trying to divine her thoughts.

"Positive," she reiterated with a definite nod, giving him a playful smirk and waving him out the door. "I'll call if anything comes up, but I should be right behind you in an hour or so."

Once her father had left her to her own devices, Emma tossed the case files she had been pretending to read across the surface of her desk and gave up all pretense of working. Standing up and beginning to pace, she at last admitted to herself that the worry swirling inside her for Hook was not going away – in fact, it was only growing stronger. Taking one last glance around the interior of the station, she realized that she wasn't going to get anything else done, and she wouldn't have any peace until she put her awful hunch to rest. Hook was going to tease her mercilessly about her concern for him, but apparently she was going to have to live with that. The fact that he tended to haunt her steps and turn up anywhere she might be, made it especially disconcerting that she hadn't seen or heard from him in three days. At least, she was telling herself that was all it was.

She grabbed her jacket, hit the lights, locked up, and was headed for her car before she could fight with herself any longer. Parking the bug at the docks, Emma stepped out, straightened her clothes, and steeled her nerves before striding purposefully to the spot at the far end where the Jolly Roger had been anchored since their return from Neverland. Normally, the Captain was so alert and aware that the moment he heard anyone nearing his ship he would have already been standing on deck looking down in challenge, but Emma didn't see any sign of him.

Walking up the gangplank, she let her boots stomp and echo loudly; giving him fair warning that she was coming aboard and expecting him to appear any minute with an "Oi! Who goes there?" and brandished sword, but she was greeted with nothing but silence. Finding her footing on the familiar wooden deck, Emma actually experienced a strange sense of welcome reunion. Since they weren't hiding from Pan and Henry was safe, it was actually nice to be on the sturdy ship once more. She could have really grown to like the adventure and thrill of sailing, if the situation had been different and her son hadn't been in danger. She didn't linger in her nostalgic thoughts for long though. Trailing a gloved hand fondly along the ship's side, she moved toward the open door of the stairway which led below decks. Poking her head in, she tried calling out, "Hook?! Are you here?"

Again she got no response, so tamping down the feeling of trespass, she entered the darkness of the stairwell and stepped lower, growing more concerned all the time. 'Where had the insufferable idiot gotten to? And even more disturbing, why did she care?'

Remembering the lower level of the ship from their time in Neverland, she found her way down the hallway with a guiding hand along the wall, even though evening dusk was closing in and none of the hanging lanterns were lit. She passed the crew quarters that the rest of them had stayed in and didn't stop until she reached the room at the furthest end of the ship – the Captain's quarters. Pausing for a second, she drew in a quick, tight breath and then rapped her knuckles on the door. "If you're in there, Pirate, you'd better answer me," she warned, before adding with wry humor, "and I hope you're decent, because I'm coming in."

Whatever she had been expecting, the sight that met Emma's eyes when she entered Hook's chamber was not it. He was there, but the laughter that had been about to erupt at bursting in and catching him by surprise died in her throat when she got her first good look at him.

He was curled up in his bunk, even though it was barely 5:30, and he looked dead to the world, completely unaware of her presence despite all her yelling and stomping around. Even from across the room, she could see those unfairly long, gorgeous eyelashes flutter fitfully as he hovered not-quite-asleep, not-quite-awake, and he rolled from his side to his back with a pitiful, low groan.

"Hook?" she questioned worriedly, her voice small as she walked toward him, already stretching out a hand hesitantly. Once she got close enough to touch him, she nearly jerked back on contact; his skin was burning with fever under her fingertips. Emma gasped in surprise and leaned in closer, now truly concerned that he wasn't responding to her. She swiped her hand up his sculpted cheekbone to brush under the fringe of his dark hair and feel his forehead, equally hot and clammy from dried sweat.

It might have been the cool feeling of her hand on his flushed skin, but those stunning blue eyes, looking much more bleary and unfocused than usual, finally forced their way open to gaze at her in confusion. "Swan?" he mumbled, his voice sounding ragged and raw, probably from coughing, she realized sympathetically, "What are you…? Am I dreaming?"

She shook her head, smoothing his damp hair back and trying to calm her heart, which was now fluttering erratically at seeing him so vulnerable. "No, I'm here, Hook….I…" she hesitated, feeling that maybe she was giving too much away, "I just had a feeling…that something was wrong…that you needed help."

Hook started to smirk at her and, she was sure, offer some sort of smug comment on her admission, but he was shaken by violent tremors just then, shivering uncontrollably and a gruff sort of moan escaped against his will instead.

Her heart went out to him. Emma had honestly never pictured the man getting ill; he had survived a violent amputation, the Dark One's hand squeezing his heart, the rough, dangerous adventures of a pirate, and centuries of life in more than one realm. She would almost want to tease him for being felled by something as simple as the flu – if she weren't so concerned at the condition she found him in. She couldn't help wondering how long he had been lying there like that. Had he taken too much of a chill before she even arrived? What would have happened if she hadn't felt so compelled to come looking for him?

Reaching her other hand out in an effort to take his good one, Emma heard Hook's breath wheeze disturbingly as his mouth fell open, obviously trying to get a deeper breath through what must be badly congested lungs. "We'll be lucky if you haven't holed up in this drafty old boat and let your flu turn into bronchitis, Buddy," she chided him.

He tried to chuckle good naturedly, she could tell, but it became a wracking fit of coughs that made him clutch at his ribs and squeeze her hand in his, as if for reassurance that she was still there. "Hang in there," she whispered, squeezing back. "You're going to be okay." He barely nodded, but then his eyes fluttered closed and he didn't respond to her anymore. His loud, openmouthed, stuffy breathing let her know not to be alarmed, but Emma took the chance to look away from him and glance around the cabin.

There was a fireplace, but he had obviously not even felt strong enough to get up and tend it, as it had sunk to embers and was about to go out. She felt her own teeth nearly chattering it was so chilly in the room. He should probably be taken to someone's house – or to the hospital – but she didn't think she could move him alone, or that he was going to be able to stand and help her much.

Forcing herself to clear her head and draw in a deep, steadying breath, Emma tried to focus on one problem at a time. She pulled her hand from his clasp, and then patted his arm gently as if to reassure him she would only be a minute, though he made no movement and seemed out of it again. Stepping to the other side of the room, Emma took the poker from the mantle and stoked the fire until the embers flickered to a bit more life and then added a couple new logs. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure he wasn't looking, and then began to rummage carefully through the heavy old trunk she spotted in the corner until she found a few more blankets than the single one that Hook was already using – which must have already been on the bed. He was obviously sweating and feverish, but she knew that he was still chilled and needed to stay covered.

Coming back to his bedside, she sat tentatively on the edge of his bunk, just next to his hips and gently spread both blankets over his inert form, tucking them in with a level of care and concern that bewildered, frightened, and warmed her all at once. Hook didn't even open his eyes, but let out a breathy sigh and murmured in a voice even lower and rougher than usual, "Emma…you came…"

Her name on his lips with such pure and simple affection stilled her motions and she froze for a moment, hands hovering over him as if she had forgotten how to move. Blinking, Emma came back out of her trance and stood again, looking around to see that the fire was crackling and the room was already less cold. With a nod of approval to herself, she quickly escaped above deck for a moment.

She knew her first call should be her parents, to let them know she wouldn't be coming for supper after all. However, she dreaded explaining to her suspicious, overprotective father why she had felt the need to check on Captain Hook and now didn't want to leave him sick and alone. So she put it off by calling Ruby first, knowing the other woman was about to get off work at the diner and asking her to pick up some orange juice, bottled water, cough syrup, and Kleenexes, and bring them to the Jolly, promising she would explain when Ruby arrived. Then, once she couldn't put it off any longer, Emma was relieved to get Snow on her parents' phone. Her mother actually seemed concerned about the Captain as well and wanted to help, but Emma managed to dissuade her – for reasons she didn't even want to study too carefully. She informed her mother she would be back in the morning, once she made sure Hook had some fluids in him and his fever had broken, and they ended the call.

She paced on the deck until she saw Ruby striding down the dock – sashaying was more like it. The female wolf had a sort of wild grace even in her human form that Emma wasn't ashamed to admit she envied. Emma gave Snow's best friend a wave, and Ruby grinned widely, holding up the bag of requested items. Emma thanked her, explained what was going on, paid Ruby, and tried not to dwell on how anxious she was to get back to Hook and make sure he wasn't any worse.

"You've got it bad and don't even know yet," Ruby murmured, eyes twinkling mischievously at Emma.

Emma felt her hackles rise as she shot back defensively, "What are you talking about?"

Ruby just raised an eyebrow at Emma, giving her a look that said she might be fooling herself, but it was right there for anyone else to see. "You can't lie to someone with a canine sense of smell," Ruby smirked teasingly. "The pheromones are literally rolling off of you in waves. Not that I blame you…" she paused, licking her lips almost predatorily, "…that swagger, those eyes, and all that leather…"

Emma snorted indelicately, rolling her eyes at the waitress' antics and turning Ruby to give her a push towards the gangplank. "You're crazy!" she added, laughing even as her pulse raced with the truth and she hoped the other woman couldn't sense that too.

"Whatever you need to tell yourself, Sheriff," Ruby called back as she sidled off with a wave. "I'll let you go…for now. But I want details later." She turned once to wink at Emma, then she was gone, her chuckling at Emma's expense fading behind her.

Once Ruby had left, Emma redirected her steps below; trying to wipe her mind clean of the werewolf's teasing and her heart's whispering that was true. She stepped back into Hook's cabin, eyes immediately drawn to him across the room as she rooted through the bag to pull out the medicine and a bottle of water. She moved closer, only to see that he was shaking, teeth chattering, limbs shuddering enough that the blankets were sliding off him. His eyes were no longer closed, and they rolled up to meet hers weakly as he coughed harshly, sounding as though it raked his chest raw. "No need to gawk at me, Emma love, it's embarrassing enough having you here when I'm like this." He didn't get any more out though as the effort of speaking set off another coughing fit. Trembling, he suddenly wouldn't look her in the eyes.

She took pity on his pride and leaned in to help him sit, offering the plastic cup of cough syrup.

Hook wrinkled his nose, looking at it doubtfully for a moment, then glanced to her, "What is this, Lass?"

"Medicine, you stubborn pirate," she laughed, shaking her head at his hesitation and holding it out to him again. "Come on, I'm trying to help. We need to get some liquids in you."

He held out his hand to take the cup from her, but his fingers trembled so badly that Emma could see he was going to spill it all if he did. With a sigh, she brought it to his lips instead, tilting it so he could swallow, and gasped slightly, feeling a tingling sensation run through her hand as her knuckle brushed his chin. Their eyes locked together at the shock of the contact and neither moved until he shivered violently again, the shakes actually rattling his teeth and jerking them from the strange sort of reverie they had entered.

"Go on, Beautiful," he grit out, lying back as comfortably as he could manage and averting his eyes, "can't have you getting sick too. I'll survive. It will not be the first time in 300 years that I've been ill."

Something about the way he said those words and the look in his eyes stopped Emma cold. Her insides squeezed painfully at the thought of him suffering like this before with no one to rely on or even care if he recovered or not. That realization alone made her more determined than ever to take care of him, despite him being too proud to ask for help or want to trouble her. She shook her head, leaning with him as he tried to back away from her. "Nope, sorry, Hook. You're stuck with me." She held out the water bottle next. "Here, drink up."

His eyes narrowed, and he tried to growl at her, but the menacing effect was ruined by his raw throat and how pathetic it ended up sounding. "I'm not an infant, Swan." He grumbled a bit more, but drank about half the bottle with her holding it for him, before he stopped with a short sigh of frustration. "Go on. You must have better things to do, and I don't wish to impose."

"Really?" she shot back at him, arching a brow at his attitude, but not put off by it for a second. It was scary how alike they were; she could tell he detested looking vulnerable in front of her, or anyone. If she was honest with herself, she probably acted the same way anytime she was sick. "Stop being such a baby, Hook," she added, kicking her boots off and hanging her coat over his desk chair, "and slide over."

She nearly laughed out loud at his startled expression, and his confused, "Swan? What are you on about?"

"You're sick. You're cold. You need someone to look after you. I'm the only one here, so I'm not leaving. However, I'm tired, and it's chilly, so scoot over."

For a second, she thought he was going to fight her, and she wasn't sure if he was embarrassed, worried she would get sick, or if he truly was – despite all his innuendo – the gentleman he had always claimed to be. A round of chills and coughing gripped him again though, and once his head dropped to the pillow once more in defeat, she knew she had won. "Scoot," she ordered again, lifting the covers to crawl in next to him once he did.

So close to him, Emma realized how clammy and chilled Hook truly was. He had felt like he was burning up earlier, but the shivers would be hard to miss, curled up next to him as she was. To her amusement, as reluctant as he had seemed moments before, Hook was now pulling her closer. "You're so warm, Emma," he murmured, his arm coming to rest across her middle and shooting heat through her veins.

"You're a little bit out of your head right now, aren't you?" she teased him, still genuinely concerned, but also touched at the fact that he had allowed her comfort, feeling needed and wanted right where she was. Without thinking, or stopping to second guess what her hand did instinctively, she began to lightly stroke her fingers through his coarse, black hair, sifting it soothingly and watching as his breathing smoothed out and his forehead came to rest in the crook of her neck. It gave her an adorable little thrill in her stomach at the sight of him looking so young and unguarded, as if his burdens had lifted away.

"Emma," he murmured out under his breath, and neither the scratchiness nor the softness could mask the gentle affection in his voice.

Her heart stuttered, wondering what he was thinking as he whispered her name in his sleep. For a second, she wanted to panic and bolt, but then she realized how lovely the moment actually was. She could honestly lie right there with him and never want to move away. Occasionally, a small little tremor still ran through him, but they seemed to finally be lessening. She smirked wryly to herself, knowing that if she was smart, she would be out of his bed by morning, before he woke up feeling better and ready to plague her mercilessly for all of this. She lightly traced her hand in circles on his back, hoping he was warm enough and that she had gotten enough medicine down his throat.

Shaking her head, Emma chuckled at the way he had curled himself around her protectively, smiling in his sleep unawares. She felt her own eyelids growing heavy, and the thoughts that had troubled and distracted her all day simply floated out of her mind. She was almost grateful she had the excuse to be so close to him and hold him; she would never have done it otherwise. Defining this could wait; she was going to enjoy the moment while it lasted.

Tenderly, she tilted her head just a bit to place a light little kiss to his forehead, amazed at how beautifully at peace he looked in sleep, then cuddled deeper into their embrace. Deciding just this once not to be in control, but simply to feel, she allowed her eyes to close and followed her pirate's lead, drifting off to sleep at his side.

(I was originally so flattered that "Under the Weather" received so many nice reviews, that though I really only had that one-shot in mind, the requests for the next morning caused me to re-think and come up with this. After all, good reviews are nearly as irresistible as Killian Jones' smile. It's (again) pretty sweet and fluffy...)

Epilogue: The Next Morning

Rays of warm, golden sunlight filtered into his cabin, tickling Killian Jones' face and waking him groggily from sleep. He yawned, intending to roll over and go back to sleep, when he froze, his movement arrested in shocked surprise at discovering that he was not alone in his bunk. He stiffened, years of being on guard and ready for attack taking over unconsciously as he turned his head tentatively to the side. Despite the lingering stuffiness and congestion in his head and the weak sensation in his limbs, he was pirate enough to have already reached for the cutlass he had stowed at his other side before lying down the night before, tucked hidden between the edge of the bunk and the wall. However, the vision that greeted his eyes stilled his actions and stole his very breath.

Emma Swan was curled up next to him, actually cuddled into his side, her long, blonde tresses arrayed across the pillow with the sunlight glancing off them in a glowing halo. She let out a sweet little sigh and nuzzled her face into his shoulder, bringing her hand to rest unknowingly on his chest. There was a look of such peace on her face, that he had never seen her wear in waking hours, and it completely enchanted him.

Killian knew without a doubt that if he woke her, she would run – shut him out again, pick up her cares once more, and reinforce her walls. It pained him, but he knew it to be true, as surely as he breathed. He wanted desperately, more than he had any right to hope, for her to stay. Emma had come to him, cared for him, when he was ill and alone, and it had kindled a longing in him that she would trust him enough to stay always. From the moment he had met her, with her fiery eyes and stony determination, a modern woman out of her element in the Enchanted Forest, he had been drawn to her as strongly as had been pulling away from him. She didn't want to be abandoned as she had been before, so she had made sure to leave him first. He had been following her ever since. Her turning up last night changed the game. Suddenly, he was not the only one who cared.

Emma's brow furrowed in her sleep, as if something in her dreams troubled her, and hoping to soothe her, Killian reached over to brush a finger across her cheek, feather light, then smoothed the crinkled skin between her eyes. He was hoping to ease her back into quiet slumber, not wanting her to wake, or for this dream to end. It was as if he had wakened into a serene moment of refuge from the world that had been nothing but a bitter storm of hate and cruelty for as long as he could remember – until she entered it.

Her lovely face smoothed again, and she mumbled sleepily, a tiny smile quirking one corner of her perfect, tempting mouth. She practically hummed the word that he leaned in to hear. "Killian…" she whispered, her tone sounding so warm and happy caressing his given name that he could not help but smile and long for the day when she might speak it to him with that much affection while awake.

It didn't matter that his throat was still raw and he would kill for a drink. He tried to stifle the need to cough, for fear it would jostle the golden-haired angel who had now rolled over to face him and twined her legs with his as surely as she had twined her grasp around his heart. He hardly dared to breathe, much less move, but he was still staggered by how much better he felt just being able to clumsily sift his calloused fingers through the strands of her silky mane.

Sunlight might have been pouring in to wake them, but he was going to ignore it for the chance to have this incredible, broken, infuriating woman in his arms as long as her possibly could. "I love you, Emma lass," he whispered hoarsely under his breath, placing a kiss to her temple. Then he closed his eyes, not sure if he could actually manage sleep with her so near, but needing to savor this moment. So gently it was almost imperceptible, he cradled her even closer to the warmth of his body, glad he had woken to find her still there.

Someday, he did desire to wake her with languid kisses trailing down her neck and along her collarbone, whispering endearments before either keeping her in his bed all day to love her as she deserved or venturing out to fetch her breakfast and talk to her and she readied for a new morn. Yet he knew that day had not yet come. He would not rush her. Instead, he would celebrate the step she had taken in allowing him to know of her concern for his well-being. He would hold her close enough to memorize and treasure the feeling – in all probability, she would fight its happening again anytime soon – and be glad she had given him reason to hope. Killian touched one flaxen strand of her hair, twirled it around his finger for a moment, and then tucked it behind her ear. "I can wait as long as you need, Emma," he whispering fervently. "I have all the time in the world."

Tagging a few who may enjoy (or did before): @effulgentcolors​ @let-it-raines​ @spartanguard​ @kmomof4​ @jennjenn615​ @teamhook​ @revanmeetra87​ @winterbaby89​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @thislassishooked​ @laschatzi​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @searchingwardrobes​ @hollyethecurious​ @sherlockianwhovian​ @killian-whump​ @thisonesatellite​ @profdanglaisstuff​ @shireness-says​ @snidgetsafan​ 

Just One Date? ~Part 1

A/N: Anon you spoke and I listened. Here is part one of this really cute Alex Tuch series. I hope you guys enjoy and especially you anon, I hope I can do this justice for you! 

it’s also almost 4000 words so it’s pretty long oops

It was a Monday afternoon and like always I was putting away the camera equipment from the post-practice interviews. I only got to do help and really participate on Mondays, Thursdays, and Sundays. The rest of the time I spent editing or shadowing people elsewhere. The days I got to be around everyone and be around the boys, the knights, were always my favourite. I had ended up becoming pretty good friends with a few of them like William, Shea, Ryan and Fleury. I guess I was sort of friends with Alex too if you could call it a friendship. It was weird. Well not so much weird as he flirted with me and asked me out every week and I didn’t think he was serious about it at all, just teasing me for my very obvious crush on him.

I was almost done deconstructing and putting away the camera when I saw someone walk up out of the corner of my eye. I knew who it was without looking up and the blush on my face appeared as soon as he did. I hated that I blushed so easily around him. It always made him smirk and God I’d like to just kiss that dumb smirk off his face but alas.

“Hi Tuch.”

“Hi gorgeous.” he said making me blush even redder.

“How are you today?”

“I was doing pretty good. But I’m doing really good now that I’m here talking to you.”

“Oh.” I said dumbly rolling my eyes. If it was for what he said or I said who knows. Maybe it was a bit of both.

“How are you?”

“Oh um..I’m okay?”

“You don’t sound so sure.” he said with a small chuckle making me glare up at him making him actually laugh.

“I’m sure.”

“Are you? You’re awfully red. Maybe you’ve got a fever or something.” he put emphasis on the ‘or something’ and winked at me making me blush more. “God you’re so cute.”

“Alex come on shut up you don’t mean that.”

“Of course I mean it. I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.” he said with a serious tone. I looked into his eyes trying to find any hint that he was joking around but couldn’t find one so I just shrugged.

“If you say so.”

“I do. Now onto the real reason I came over here. Go on a date with me?”

“There it is.” I said rolling my eyes. “Tuch how many times are you gonna ask?”

“As many times as it takes for you to say yes.” he said with a confident smile.

“You’re insufferable.” I said rolling my eyes as I latched the camera case closed and started bringing it to the closet where it lived. Alex stopped me though.

“Let me.” he said, taking it.

“Alex you’re not supposed to touch that! Stop.”

“Calm down (y/n/n) it’s fine. I just want to help.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Okay fine. I like calling you gorgeous way better anyway.” he said with his dumb smirk making me blush and groan as he put the camera away. “So what do you say? Date?”

“Alex I’ve said no a million times why are you still doing this?” I tried walking out of the room but he boxed me in with his arms.

“(y/n) have you ever considered that I might just maybe want to date you?” he said sarcastically.

“Noooo come on, you’re putting me on. Gee golly gosh, I never thought of that even one time.” I said just as sarcastically putting one hand on my hip and the other on my forehead. He ducked his head down and laughed which made me laugh.

“The real question is why do you say no every time? You always get all blushy and cute whenever we’re in a room together. Especially when I talk to you. And I catch those beautiful eyes looking at me all the time.”

“Alex this is all just a game to you. As soon as you get what you want you’ll be gone again.”

“How do you know that?” he asked looking a little offended.

“I’m sorry Alex, that came out worse than I meant for it to..” I said looking down blushing worse and scratching my arms anxiously.

“Hey stop that.” he said bringing one of his arms down and laying his hand on mine to stop it. “I don’t want you to be nervous around me.”

“A little late for that if you couldn’t tell already from like, every encounter we’ve ever had.”

“Why do you keep turning me down (y/n)?”

“I don’t want to look stupid okay? I don’t want to be the sad dumb end of a joke or a bet or just be used. I just can’t get it out of my head that this is one of those things.” I answered quietly looking at the ground.

“My god no. That’s not what this is at all. Beautiful, look at me.” I shook my head but he gently grabbed the sides and tilted my face to look up at his. “I want to date you because I like you. Is that so hard to believe?”

“Yes.” I said even more quietly.

“Just give me a chance? One date?” he asked quietly matching my volume.

“What about work?”

“There’s nothing against it. We work for two different companies.”

“Okay one date.”

“Really?” he asked, letting go of my face with a big smile.

“Only one. Make it good Tuch.” I said jabbing my finger into his chest making him laugh.

“I will. It’ll be the best date you’ve ever been on.”

“Well that really won’t be hard to do but okay I guess I’ll try to look forward to it.” I said sarcastically making him laugh.

“Okay I gotta go but I’ll text you later with details.”

“Alex you’ve got a game later!” I said laughing.

“Yeah well priorities.” He said winking.

“Your priorities are fucked.” I laughed making him laugh too.

“Okay well I would love to stay here and chat but I’ve got a midday nap I need to take so I’ll see you later.”

“Oh one more thing Alex.” I said when he was in the doorway.

“What is it, gorgeous?”

“If this is all a joke and you stand me up for this date I will absolutely destroy you. I’ll literally tear you a new asshole.”

“Kinky.” he said with a smirk.

“I’m not kidding Tuch, I refuse to be treated that shitty.”

“Good thing I’m never going to treat you that shitty then huh?” he gave me another smile before waving bye and exiting the room.

It didn’t really click that I had agreed to go on a date with him until I was curled up in my bed with pajamas on getting texts from him. I was panicking, not gonna lie. All sorts of thoughts were running through my head. What if he didn’t actually want to date me? What if he wasn’t going to show up and I would have to move back to Canada just to get away from the embarrassment that being stood up by him would cause? What if this is all just a sick joke like before? 

I let the what ifs work me up until I was crying. It wasn’t the first time I cried over a date and it probably wouldn’t be the last. I just got so nervous about myself as a person that I just turned into a mess. I didn’t know what kind of person I needed to be or that they were expecting me to be. I really didn’t want Alex to go out on this date with me and then realize I was different than he thought and he didn’t want to have me around anymore at all.

The reasonable side of my brain countered that completely. I had hung out with the boys so much. Going out to bars, hanging out at their houses, even sometimes hanging around the rink on my days off. Tuch had been around me enough that he should know at least a little bit of what my personality was. But my anxious brain overpowered that and I stayed awake half the night worrying. Tossing and turning until I was just too exhausted to keep my eyes open.

I woke up to my alarm and groaned loudly at the sound. I set another alarm for a few hours later and went back to sleep for a bit. I set it so I’d still have enough time to shower and let my hair air dry as well as get dressed. Alex had decided our date would be today because apparently he just couldn’t wait. He offered to come pick me up so I wouldn’t be as worried that he wouldn’t show up and I honestly really appreciated that he compromised with me instead of just canceling. 

Once the alarm went off again I still felt like I hadn’t slept at all but that’s what anxious sleeps will do to a person. I got up anyway and was even more nervous than before. I showered and towel dried my hair a little bit before trying to figure out what to wear. I looked over his text again.

Tuch: wear something light that you won’t be too hot in but bring something warmer for later just in case.

What the fuck did that mean? What were we even doing? I sent him a text asking me if he could tell me what we were doing and he said no again. I rolled my eyes but I wasn’t really expecting anything different from him. He sent me another text not too long after.

Tuch: how would you feel about an overnight adventure?

Me: I don’t know, what are we doing?

Tuch: Beautiful, if I tell you it won’t be a surprise. I promise it’ll be lots of fun.

Me: I dunno Alex..

Tuch: Will and Shea think that you’ll love it if that helps convince you more lol

Me: wow gee yes. I am convinced now.

Tuch: I promise it’ll be a lot of fun.

Me: okay fine. If I end up dead though I’m so haunting your ass.

Tuch: so aggressive. I like it.

I left it at that and went back to trying to figure out what to wear. I decided on shorts with a comfy crewneck. No point in really dressing up, I didn’t want his expectations for how I look to be too high from normal. I also didn’t want him to think I was trying too hard by wearing a dress or something. I put on some flip flops to go with it and looked in the mirror. I didn’t look drop dead gorgeous or anything but I looked pretty good, cute I thought. No model by any means but I was happy with how it looked. I moved on to packing an overnight bag. Packing up extra clothes, pajamas, medications, a brush, and anything else I could think of that I might need. Once I was done it was almost time for Alex to pick me up so I just waited around downstairs. I got a snapchat from him a little while before he was supposed to be there. It was a video of traffic and then it switched to his pouting face as he said, “It’s like they don’t know I’m trying to get to the cutest girl in the world right now. It’s rude. I’ll be there soon gorgeous. I promise.”

I blushed like mad and smiled really big. I tried to get myself under control before answering but I was still blushing so I knew he’d know he got to me. I couldn’t really bring myself to care though. He only ended up being like 5 minutes late and when I let him in be just apologized a million times.

“Alex stop you’re okay.” I exclaimed laughing as he apologized again for being late. “You told me what was happening. I wasn’t worried about you being a little late.”

“I just feel bad. I should’ve left earlier.”

“Tuch cut it out, it’s fine I promise. As long as you communicate with me we’re good.” 

“You’re sure?”

“Yes Alex.” I said touching his arm lightly. “Calm down a little yeah?”

“Okay. Do you have everything you need?”

“Yeah I think so. Do I need to bring food or anything?”

“No I’ve got it covered. Snacks too. Will helped me.” he said with a small smile.

“That was nice of him. Well that’s it then I’m ready to go if you are.”

“Cool let’s go.” he said with a smile taking my beg from me.

“Oh my goood Aleex I can carry my own shit.” I groaned with a smile.

“Yeah well maybe I’m a gentleman and don’t want you to.”

“But-”

“Beautiful, you could just say thank you, ya know?” he said with a smirk that made me blush and him laugh. “There’s that blush.” he poked my cheek and I glared at him.

“Now I’m really not saying thank you.”

“Wow grumpy.” he said still with a smile on his face.

“I’m just kidding. Thank you for carrying my bag, you didn’t have to.”

“You’re welcome (y/n). Buckle up, we’ve got a bit of a drive ahead of us.”

“Oh? How long?”

“About 20 minutes? Maybe 30?”

“Man you really are planning on killing me.” I teased as I got situated in the car. 

“I would never.” he said giving me a smile. He handed me his phone and I just kinda stared at it like an idiot making him laugh. “Put some music on you dork.”

“Oh fuck yeah okay.” I slid it open and was surprised to find no passcode on it. I went to his spotify app and saw a playlist that was called ‘stuff (y/n) will like hopefully’. “Quite the playlist you got here Tuch.”

“The guys helped me make it. Some of it is songs you like but some of it is stuff you might not have heard before..I dunno I just wanted to make something that you’d hopefully like.” he said a slight red colour coming to his cheeks.

“That’s really sweet. Thank you Alex.” I said, giving him a smile back. I put on the playlist and it was pretty quiet in the car besides the music. I was really just listening to what he thought I’d like. I was interested to know if it would be stuff I liked. Turns out most of it was really good. I lot of it I didn’t know but he got it pretty spot on with my all over the place music taste. We weren’t very far into the playlist though when we got to where we were going so I didn’t hear the whole playlist but from what I did hear it was good.

“Okay you’re actually going to have to grab your stuff this time.”

“But my arms will fall off. Alex how will I ever go on?”

“You’re a little shit.” he said laughing.

“Your little shit.” I said before immediately turning red as he raised an eyebrow. “Hey where even are we anyway?”

“Nice try cutie but I’m not forgetting about what you just said. We’re at lake Mead though.”

“Really? I’ve always wanted to come here!”

“I know you have. Now get out and grab your stuff so we can get this date started and I can sweep you off your feet.” he said giving me a wink before jumping out of the car. I followed soon after to the trunk to get my bag.

“I dunno man, you’re gonna have to try awfully hard to sweep me off my feet.”

“I’m up for the challenge.” 

“You always do like a challenge.” I said as we walked down a dock. “Where are we going?”

“Right about here.” he said walking in front of me and stopping making me bump into him. He grabbed my arms to steady me making me laugh.

“You did that on purpose.”

“Maybe.” he said smirking. “Anyways here is where we will be staying tonight. Well I mean not right here but on the boat.”

“What really?”

“Yes really! Now come aboard and I’ll give you the tour.” he reached his hand out and I grabbed it getting onto the boat. He climbed up after me and put his stuff down on the deck. “So here is upstairs, I drive here and you get to sit and do whatever you want.”

“I like that.”

“And if we go downstairs,” he said, opening the door for me to go down. I climbed in and he came in after. “We’ve got a little kitchen here, a bathroom right beside us with no shower unfortunately and through here we have the bedroom.”

“Comfy.” I said throwing myself onto the bed. “But where will you sleep?”

“Wherever. I don’t really care. I can sleep on one of the benches upstairs or on the little couch for the kitchen table or something.”

“Tuchy I was kidding. You can sleep here, I don’t care.”

“I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything.” he said with a serious look on his face.

“You won’t. And if you do I’ll let you know. Communicating remember?” I asked kicking his leg.

“Yeah okay.” he gave me a sweet smile before it turned mischievous and he pulled me by the leg off the bed a bit. “But come on now we’re gonna go boating for a bit if that’s cool with you?”

“Yeah for sure.” we went back up on the deck and he started untying things. A man from the dock helped us get going and with that we were off. Alex was a good driver so I wasn’t too worried about the boat. He followed all the rules and it was really nice to let go for a bit and feel the wind in my hair and have the water splash my face. Once it was almost dinner time we were just slowing down when Alex decided to ask me, “Do you want to drive the boat?”

“Alex I’m not qualified to drive a boat and you know it.” I said crossing my arms. “So much for you following the rules today huh?”

“Come here, I’ll help you.” he offered with a smile. It looked pretty fun so I just rolled my eyes and walked over to him sitting on his lap. He explained a few things to me but then just gave up when I didn’t understand. “I’ll control the speed and you can steer with a little bit of help, deal?”

“Sounds good to me.” I said as he started up the boat again. It took a little while but we finally got to a point where he was barely steering anymore. He just had his hands balancing on the steering wheel and his chin was resting on my shoulder as he watched me laugh and have fun ‘driving’ the boat. After a little while we stopped and anchored the boat, which he let me help with. We went down to the underside of the boat and he started taking out some cold cuts and pasta salads and stuff for dinner. We sat close together so our legs were touching and shoulders were bumping just joking around and eating. Once we were done we went back up to the deck and were watching the sunset listening to music again. 

We spent the time talking about childhood memories, embarrassing stories, our favourite things. Really we just talked about everything. I was really comfortable with him and the stories just kept pouring out of me. Even traumas and private stuff I was talking about. I don’t know at what point he held my hand or at what point I laid my head on his shoulder. What I did know though was that I was having an amazing time and I didn’t want to move anytime soon. We talked well past when the stars came out. Eventually though we had to call it a night. Alex let me go in first to change then he got changed in the other room before coming in and joining me on the bed.

“Are you sure you’re okay with me sleeping in here with you?” he asked quietly draping a warm blanket over the two of us.

“I’m positive Alex. As long as you know that this is absolutely not leading to sex. If you were hoping it was, I’m going to disappoint you.”

“Hey, hey no.” he said turning me over to face him. “That’s not what I wanted here at all. That wasn’t the intention.”

“Okay. I just wanted you to know so you didn’t get the wrong idea.”

“You deserve so much better than that beautiful.” he said brushing my hair out of my eyes.

“Yeah well..” I said shrugging.

“I’m gonna show you better than that.”

“Hmm pretty cocky that this first date went well huh?” I said sticking my tongue out at him.

“Alright fine then, tell me you don’t want to see me again.” he challenged with a grin making me laugh.

“I can’t tell you that.”

“So does that mean I move on to date 2?” he asked, leaning over me.

“I guess.” I sighed out sarcastically. He was smiling at me and biting his lip which made my insides really just turn into jello.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked suddenly breaking the short bit of silence. I didn’t answer verbally, instead I just pulled him down to me and kissed him. It felt incredible. I could kiss him for hours, days even, without getting bored at all. He broke away too soon for my liking. “I wanted to do that since you were driving the boat.”

“Alex that was so long ago.” I said laughing, hitting his arm.

“I know. You were just so cute I couldn’t help it but then I didn’t want to over step but I just never stopped thinking about it.”

“You fucking sap.” I said with a smile bringing his lips to mine again. We broke apart and he just laid down beside me on the bed with a smile on his face. I traced his cheek with my finger. “Cute.”

“Now who’s a sap?”

“Fuck off Tuch, we were having a sweet moment!”

Comfort and Lies

(read it on AO3)

Levi looked up from his laptop when he heard the apartment’s front door slam shut. He was about to call out, to let Eren know he was there, when he heard the slamming of a second, inside door.

Eyebrow arching, Levi eyed the wall dividing the kitchen he sat in from the bedroom. He glanced at the floor plans he’d been studying on his laptop, the unread messages on his cell phone, and the clock ticking away on the wall. He’d hoped to see Eren before he left so he was already running late. His ride was waiting impatiently – very impatiently – outside, but… he shut his laptop, tucked his phone into his pocket, and stood.

When he stepped into the bedroom, he saw Eren had thrown himself face down on the bed. He sat on the edge of the mattress, reached out a hand to stroke Eren’s hair. “Bad day?”

Eren turned his face and smiled weakly up at him, “I thought you’d be long gone already or I’d have come and said hello. Aren’t you supposed to be on your way to your booth at the trade show?”

“The flight was delayed, so I was killing time for a couple hours. What’s wrong?”

“It’s no big deal. My professor was just more of a jerk than usual.”

“What did he do now?”

“He’s an ass, is all. He just hates me because I helped Historia report him her first year, so he likes making real sure the whole class knows I stupid I am.”

Levi’s eyes went hard, but he kept his voice soft as he stroked Eren’s hair. “You’re not stupid.”

Eren laughed, and shot a brief, mischievous glance at Levi. “Really? I seem to remember you told me I was ‘the biggest idiot this side of the state line’, when you were driving me to the hospital last month.”

Levi pinched at Eren’s arm. “That was different, idiot. You almost gave yourself pneumonia, running around like that and pretending you didn’t have the flu.” He turned his fingers, stroked away the slight redness on Eren’s skin. “But you’re not stupid. Never that.”

“Thank you,” Eren turned over, scooted across the blanket until he could burrow against Levi’s side. “It’s ok, he can’t fail me because the exams are all externally marked, and I get decent marks there. But today he kept calling on me and asking me all these questions, and when I couldn’t answer he’d do that, you know, sneering thing, so I got mad and I…sorta told him what I thought of him. Because he was being an asshole, and I swear we hadn’t gone over half the stuff he asked about, and if we had then that just shows he’s a bad teacher, doesn’t it? Plus he’s a disgusting perv, even if Historia and I couldn’t prove more than we did.”

He pressed in a little closer, wrapping his arms around Levi’s waist. His voice was muffled against Levi’s suit jacket as he continued, “So then he tells me I’m ‘an embarrassment to my father’s memory’.” He said the words mockingly, almost managing to hide the hurt underneath. “He told me the only reason I passed any of my classes was because my dad’s estate promised the dean they’d donate lots of money when I graduate, and I know that’s not true, but…” Eren sighed, pulling away from Levi and flopping onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. “But the whole class was there listening, and I just…I know some teachers do sometimes treat me differently because of my dad. So I guess I couldn’t really be entirely sure he was lying.” He half laughed, ruefully. “Maybe I am more stupid than I thought.”  

If he’d been watching Levi’s eyes, instead of staring up at the ceiling, Eren might have been shocked at the flash of fierce rage that ran through them.

“And by the end he’s like two inches away from my face so his spit is just landing all over me.” Eren shuddered. “After class I went to the bathroom and scrubbed my face as much as I could. He’s creepy and gross.”  

Very, very carefully, Levi fought to calm himself. Lightly, he reached out, flicking a finger at Eren’s forehead as he spoke as casually as he could manage. “There, there. Want me to beat him up for you?”

Eren laughed, turning his head to grin at Levi. “As always, thanks for the offer. Right now I’m going to rinse off any spit left on me, then I’ll go do my homework like any other good, diligent student so I can graduate as soon as possible.” He pushed himself up, planted a kiss on Levi’s cheek before sliding to the edge of the bed. “And then we’ll move, far far away, and I’ll never have to see him again.”

Levi watched Eren disappear into the bathroom, and quickly pulled out his phone. Ignoring the many increasingly irritated messages telling him his ride was ready and waiting for him outside, he sent out a brief text.

Change of plan. Personal issue came up. Abort mission.

There was a short pause, and then someone replied Sex is not a good enough reason to abort mission. Get your ass dressed and out to the car. Furlan has been waiting almost an hour.  

Levi narrowed his eyes. Fuck you. Will require Furlan’s assistance with transport, equipment, possibly clean-up.    

The reply this time took even less time. I stand corrected, maybe it is a good enough reason. Sounds like you’re planning some amazing sex.

Again, fuck you. I’ll be out in a minute.  

Levi kept an eye on the bathroom door and tucked his phone away again an instant before Eren stepped back out, scrubbing at his wet hair with a towel.

“Levi, I just realized, didn’t you say you had to set up your booth today? Will you have enough time before the expo opens tomorrow?”

“It’ll be fine. Erwin is there already, he’ll set up most of it.” Levi stood. “I do have to go though, my ride should be pulling up outside any minute.”

“Ok, thanks for listening. I feel better already.”

“Good.” Levi stepped forward, wrapping an arm around Eren’s neck and pulling his head down for a deep, lingering kiss. “Now go study. I should be back late Sunday, but I’ll call you on my lunch break tomorrow.”

“Alright. Travel safe. Sell lots of vacuum cleaners.”

 --

 Levi slid into the car waiting at the curb. As they pulled away, the driver threw a disposable cell phone over at him. “Boss wants to talk.”

“Boss can go fuck himself.” But as Levi met Furlan’s eyes in the rearview mirror, he sighed, opened the phone.

“What do you want?”

“Me?” The voice on the other end was rich, deep, amused. “You’re the one changing plans at the last minute.”

“This is important, Erwin.”  

“You sure you want to cancel? We might not have another go at this target for a while.”

“Let the client know we’ll get to it. Something came up.

“Uh huh. I’ll pass the word.”

There was a long, drawn out silence while neither Erwin or Levi said anything, and then there was a loud clatter as someone grabbed the phone from Erwin and a different voice yelled into the receiver, “Dammit, Levi, stop being a hardass and tell us what the hell is going on! I need to know. And do you need help? What’s happening? What do you need us to do? We can be on the next flight out there in…fourty-five minutes.”

Biting back a curse, Levi closed his eyes. “Hanji, calm down. And Furlan is enough, the rest of you can stand down. I’d like to handle this one myself.”

There was more clattering on the line, and then Erwin was back. “Then we’ll leave you to it, and give Eren my love when you next see him. Make sure to tell him I sold more…what is it you tell him we do these days? Oh, yes, tell him I sold more vacuum cleaners than you.”  

 --

 Levi let himself into a large, empty bedroom. He sneered a little as he glanced at the fussy, oversized bed covered with black satin sheets and a leopard print rug, at the framed, stylized sketches of women wearing only artistically tied rope that hung along the walls. The man had a giant damned painting of himself, bare-chested and riding some unrealistically small horse hung over the head of his bed. If he didn’t already loathe his guts Levi would have been happy to kill him based on that smug, self-satisfied portrait alone.

But he wasn’t here to kill him today. After all, he hadn’t asked Eren if he could kill him, he’d only asked if he could beat him up.

And this time Eren hadn’t said no, the way he had every other time Levi had offered. He’d laughed, but he hadn’t said no.

Opening the closet, Levi gingerly searched through until he found a white shirt with the tags still attached. He spread it out on the bed and settled onto it. While he waited, he checked his guns, and unwrapped the kit he’d brought with him. It had been a gift from Hanji, and she’d slowly been teaching him how to use all the little tools.

He wasn’t anywhere near as good at torturing as she was, but he could get by.

As he laid everything out, Levi wondered, not for the first time, if Eren would enjoy coming along on these trips once Levi told him he, Erwin, Hanji and the rest didn’t really sell vacuum cleaners for a living, and told him the truth about what they did.  

Unless he was very much mistaken, he thought Eren would take to this world like a duck to water.

But not yet. He had to finish college first.

Levi heard a noise somewhere in the house and sat back on the bed. When the door opened and a man that looked a lot like the man in the insufferable portrait over the bed, if a lot smaller and a lot less attractive, stepped in and flipped on the lights, Levi shot him with the tranquilizer gun.

He watched as the asshole’s knees crumpled, and he landed on his ass on the ground, staring incredulously at Levi.

“Who…what’s going on? Why are you in my room?” The man’s words were already slurring.

“Hello, Professor.” Levi smiled coldly as he ran one sharp tool through his fingers. “I’ve been wanting to meet with you for some time. We need to discuss your teaching methods.”

Screw it, I know this short story won't get much attention cause Tumblr hates original content but I want to post it anyway

Mentions of prostitution, minor swearing. around 3800 words

Its a western, but different. Enjoy

The Streets of Midpoint

I believe the town of Midpoint is aptly named. 

It is truly in the middle of nowhere. 

I had gotten stranded here four awful months ago. And I would rather be anywhere than this backwater hick-hole.

I hail from New York, a stark contrast to where I find myself now. The search of furthering my education had forced me to attempt the journey to San Francisco. However, some bandits had other plans for me along the way. 

They left me, horseless, penniless, and without food and water four miles from Midpoint. I was lucky to have found the town before dark. 

I would not, however, call Midpoint a town. There are but three buildings, one store/post office, a small church, and a saloon catering to each of man's deadly sins.

There is nothing but Mexicans and white trash bandits here, just yesterday there was a shootout where one young man lost his life. Once I heard the shooting, I immediately went to my room above the saloon and waited it all out.

I only heard of the young man's misfortune from the bartender. He, in my educated opinion, is the least insufferable person in town. He came from one of the bigger towns, and still held onto some bit of culture that I could hold some kind of enlightening conversation with that didn't involve killing, stolen cattle, poker, or the whore that resided in the room next to mine named Anna.

Luckily for me, the piano classes I took in New York were not for nothing. The kind bartender offered me a job to play his old Baldwin, and in return I got to sleep in the spare room upstairs and get a reduced pay for it. I do not plan to stay here forever, but at least I can bring some real culture to the murders and thieves that live here while I save enough money to take the stagecoach out of here.

The whore is perhaps the most insufferable person in this town. Not because of her occupation, or even the fact of her gender. She is just simply the opposite of me. She is on all day about superstitions, ghosts, and tall tales. I suppose living in a desert of red sand and tumbleweeds one's entire life would do that to a person. Without proper analysis of the world through a rational perspective I can't really blame her for believing in such nonsense. 

Perhaps it is a coping mechanism. Everyone here seems to be on the verge of blowing up either with anger or grief at any moment. I do see it in her at times. It's the wistful look out the window or the small apprehension in her eyes when confronted by certain customers. 

I see that look right now as she turns upstairs with one such man. I noticed he was a weekly guest of hers, always coming on Sundays at around 6:30.  The saloon was mostly empty on Sunday evenings, that must be why he is so punctual. 

Tonight, there wasn't anyone here but me. The bartender had decided to close up early, as he usually does on slow evenings. The saloon had the uncharacteristic aura of serenity as the glasses lay untouched and the card deck at the poker table unshuffled. The only companion I had for the night were the ivory keys at my fingertips as I played my choice in song. 

"Is that a nocturne?" A voice said, startling me from my playing. I had not noticed anyone walk through the squeaky double doors. 

I looked up behind me from my music to see a man in his late twenties. He wore a long dark coat and worn hat. His eyes were clear blue, but clouded with confusion.

Something struck me as odd, no, out of place about him. Even through He wore much the same clothes that every cow hand or bandit that strolled through those doors, there was something about him, maybe the way he held himself, or his walk, that told me he didn't belong in this town. 

"Why yes it is," I said as I stood to greet him.  “I believe you are the first to identify any of the music I've played on that thing that isn't 'Camp Town Races'."

"I have a fondness for Chopin," the man said as he hung his hat on the rack. "I think I've always liked classical music."

That last comment of his struck me as odd, "you think?" 

The man became slightly embarrassed, "well sir, I uh, can't seem to remember much about myself lately."

My eyes widened in curiosity, "ah, you mean amnesia?"

"It must be, I can't seem to recall much of anything."

I leaned back and eyed him, "well, have a drink," I offered as I made my way to the bar, "the barkeep has closed up for the night but that doesn't mean we can't try to jog your memory over a glass or two.”

“That's better than any plan I have,” the man said as he took a stool next to me.

I reached over the bar and rummaged through the bottles of what I considered to be pure acid until I found one of the few bottles of wine. I then poured a glass for each of us.

I told him my name, and how I came to Midpoint. 

“You were on your way to San Francisco?” he asked.

I nodded. 

“That sounds familiar.” He began to rub his head, “I believe I was headed that way as well.”

“Well, maybe we can pool our money and try to get there together, and get away from this awful town.”

The man shook his head and frowned in confusion. “No,” he said quietly, “ I can't leave. I know that. I have to stay here.”

I frowned. Having someone to travel with would have been a lot easier, and this man looks like he could handle a few bandits, unlike myself. “Do you know why you have to stay here?”

The man brought his hand to his mouth and frowned. “No.”

The saloon was quiet for a few moments as the dying sunlight caught the bends and curves in our glasses. I took out my pocket watch and checked the time, 7:07.

Sudden loud footsteps came from the stairs, and it seemed Anna’s customer was finished. Both my companion and I turned around and looked at the abrupt noise. 

The brute looked at me and frowned. He cleared his throat and turned out the door with nothing more than a ugly look and a foul lingering smell.

I scrunched my nose in disgust and turned back to my new friend. “You can see why I want to leave so soon.”

The man chuckled.

“Do you know your name? Or any other name?”

He shook his head again. “I do not. The only thing I can recall is this saloon. I know I have to be here.”

“Well, you're here now,” I said as I took a sip from my glass.

The man looked wistfully into his own glass. 

“You said you liked Chopin. Do you know why?”

“I- I think it has something to do with my childhood. The music you were playing seemed old to me, like from a memory.”

“That sounds promising, would you like me to play more?”

“I wouldn't want to disturb no one. It's nice to just talk to someone who doesn't want to kill me.”

“Well then, let me see,” I said as I leaned my elbow on the bar, “you don't talk like everyone else here, I might even venture a guess you're from somewhere near New York based on your slight accent. But you definitely dress just like the next dusty cattle driver that comes through here. Not to mention that gun you wear.”

“That's another mystery,” he said as he pulled it out and examined it, “I checked it and it's completely empty of bullets.”

“Heh, maybe that's why you have amnesia in the first place.”

He smiled sarcastically, “that could very well be it.”

There was no longer any sunlight outside, only a faint glow on the flat horizon. I finished the last sip of my drink and set the glass down. 

The man turned around at the darkened sky. “I think it's time for me to leave,” he said as he stood up abruptly. He turned around and reached out his hand.

I stood and shook it, his hand was cold from the drink. “oh, are you sure? You don't have to leave so soon...”

“No, no, I have to go. Thank you for the evening.”

“Come back anytime,” I said, still a little confused at his suddenness.

He tipped his hat and turned out the doors, leaving me alone in the dark saloon.

The following week I neither saw or heard of the man with amnesia. I asked a few of the tolerable patrons about him, but no one seemed to know anything. I hoped to see him again, if only to make sure he was doing well, or to find out about the mysteries of his past. But I feared the worst. Anything could happen to a man out here. 

Throughout the week, I had noticed Anna had not been herself. I had barely heard a word out of her mouth, not that I usually tried to initiate any conversation with her. But I noticed every chance she got she retreated into herself. She was unhappy, even more so than usual. Before, she always seemed to be holding onto some kind of hope, and for whatever reason now, that hope had fallen from her fingers.    

Honestly, I didn't want to know about her misfortune, I had enough of my own. I know that's insensitive, but I had to focus on getting out of here with the meager pay I get before I lose my mind to the oppressive heat and the endless desert.

It is now Sunday again, and I just bid ado to the bartender as the clock on the wall struck 6:30. Ever punctual, the selfish brute barged through the double doors and stomped his way upstairs. The thought crossed my mind that he could break into my room and steal my belongings, but I dismissed it. Anyone who saw my room saw I had nothing to steal. 

The only valuables I had were inside my head. Equations, literature, philosophical texts, and most important for the time, pages and pages of music.

I put my memory to good use as I performed my evening show for myself.  During the days, people only wanted the crude drinking songs; the ones with no feeling or soul. Once everyone went home on Sunday evenings, I had the song choice to myself. I kept myself sane by playing compositions from the greats.

I chose Chopin again, maybe out of a small hope the man would come back. 

My hopes were answered as the clock struck seven. Again, I heard no double doors open, but rather the voice of my mysterious friend;

“I think I know why I like Chopin.”

I turned around, and sure enough he was standing there, dark coat and dark hat.

“You're back,” I said with some surprise as I stood up and made my way to the bar. “You left so soon last time.” I began to pour the wine into two glasses and took my same spot as before. “Sit and tell me about Chopin.”

The man sat down on the bar stool across from me and took the glass of wine. “I think I remember my mother used to play his work.” 

“That's a tremendous discovery! How did you find out?”

“It was your playing. It brought me back.”

I smiled, I was glad my music actually helped someone. “Did it bring anything else back?” 

“I’m getting flashes of high buildings, and a few of my mother's words. She, if I can remember correctly, was a deeply God-fearin’ woman.”

“God-fearing eh?” I said with some disapproval. 

The man frowned, the first I saw with real displeasure. “What's wrong with loving God?” he asked.

I put my hands up in surrender, “To each his own I guess, I just don't believe in any of that stuff.”

 “You don't believe in anything beyond this world?”

“It doesn't make any rational sense to me.”

“Well, can you fully disprove its existence?”

I was silent, of course the answer was no, if I knew the answer to everything that would make me God.

“Maybe you should keep an open mind about things you don't know, all I’m sayin’.”

I took another sip of wine. “Do you remember anything else?”

At that moment the brute came thudding down the stairs. He eyed me and adjusted his coat collar before leaving out the double doors.

“What's his business here?” the man asked.

“Y-you didn't guess?”

“I feel like it's on the tip of my tongue.”

“He- was here for the company upstairs if you get my meaning.”

“A workin’ girl…” he said, his hand moved to his breast pocket, and his eyes were on the ceiling. But they held no lust or selfish desire; only a soft ache.

The last of the light of the sun sunk below the horizon. At that moment, the man turned and looked at the changing sky outside. He stood up quickly, “It's time for me to be on my way,” he said.

I frowned, “again?”

He nodded, and I stood to shake his chilly hand, “I’m afraid so, it's been a great evening. Thank you again.”

I barely had time to respond to his thanks before he left through the swinging doors.

I couldn't really tell you what happened the following week. I was too lost in my thoughts for most of it. The days blended together. I played the songs, ate my food, and slept when it got dark, but all my tasks were done with the man's words in my mind. Usually if I came across a spiritual fanatic, I would dismiss them just as soon as I would a fairy tale. The man didn't say anything I hadn't heard before, but those words coming from him for whatever reason stuck with me. I felt like my whole world view was turning over on itself. 

Anna, in the meantime, had changed from hopeless to downright angry with the world. She was almost comparable to a trapped animal at times. Her temper had gotten so bad to the point that the bartender had to threaten to kick her out, as she was driving all the patrons away. She had cooled off a bit at the prospect of having nowhere to sleep at night. But it didn't change her general mood toward people. It just made me want to stay away from her even more.

It's Sunday again and I sit on my bench, playing Chopin. The brute had come through the doors and up the stairs. I can't help every few seconds my eyes flash to the clock on the wall. 6:50, 6:55, 6:57… my fingers continue their rhythm until I hear the seven chimes.

“Have you ever been in love?”

There he is. 

I close the lid to the piano softly and stand to greet him.

“Isn't that a little personal?” I ask, “couldn't you tell me how your week was, or maybe ask about mine? You know, the normal small talk that friends go on about. Or maybe you could tell me why you only show up on Sundays at seven?”

“I’m glad you consider me a friend.”

“Hmm,” I grumbled, “Well come on then, lets sit.”

I fill the glasses and slide one his way as he takes his seat.

“I’m serious,” he said, “Have you ever been in love?”

I sigh, “Maybe, once. I don't really want to get into it. Why do you ask?”

“I think I’m in love. I think I know why I’m here.”

My eyes widened and I leaned forward, “So? What is it?”

The man opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by sudden angry shouts from above us. We both looked to the ceiling, and I realized the voice was Anna’s mixed with the rough brute’s. The voices became louder as they moved to the edge of the stairs, and became clear enough to understand.

“I’m not doing this for you anymore!” Anna yelled, “you can't make me!”

“You bitch! You ain't no woman!” the brute yelled back.

We could see up to Anna’s knees as she stood above him on the stairs, and by the looks of it she was pushing him down one by one. 

“You get out! You never come back!” she said with each push. We watched as she forced him down. Until the only thing we couldn't see of her was her head.

“You shoot my Jake dead! And you expect me to lay on my back for you? You're lucky I don't kill you! Get out! Get out!”

The brute was finally pushed off the stairs and landed on his backside. “He deserved it!” he yelled, “The thief! You're no better than him! Takin’ my money like that! I’ll be back!”

With that, the brute stood up and stomped away without a word. Anna collapsed into a sob on the final stair, her long red hair cascading over her face and back.

I looked over to the man, who's eyes were as wide as saucers. His hand absentmindedly made its way to his chest, he looked down at his fingertips, which to my astonishment, were now covered with blood. 

I exclaimed at his sudden unexplained injury, but he didn't seem to notice. His eyes went back to Anna, and he stood up and made his way silently over to her as if in a trance. 

He crouched down in front of her shaking figure. For the slightest moment he hesitated. But nevertheless he reached out in the most tender way possible and held her shaking hands.

She looked up at the hands that were holding hers. Then, in almost disbelief, she looked at the man's face. Her tearful eyes studied him for a long moment. She brought her hand up to his cheek and just felt his skin as she tried to believe what was crouched in front her. “Jake?” she whispered.

The man leaned into her touch like it was life giving. He looked into her eyes, and cradled his hands around her chin. They leaned in for a kiss, the most tender and passionate and mournful kiss I have witnessed in all my years. 

The man then reached into his breast pocket, and pulled out a small fortune of bills wrapped in twine, and a ring. He gave the money to her and she clutched it to her chest. He then reached out for her trembling hand and slid the ring on her finger.

She looked at it with tears in her eyes. But she then focused on the growing red stain on his chest, and a panic began to reach her. Her hand reached out and gingerly touched the red, but the man held her hand against his chest, and with ever patience and serenity, shook his head no.

He wrapped her in a hug, and it was the most at ease I've ever seen her be. Her head found the utmost comfort in the crook of his neck, for a moment I thought maybe they had fallen asleep in each other's embrace. 

The glasses around me began to light up in the dying daylight, and only then did the man look up behind him out the window.

“I have to go…” he breathed.

Anna’s grip tightened around him. He leaned into her and whispered something into her ear. She looked up at him, sorrowful understanding now crossed her features. 

They stood up together, and leaned in for one last kiss. She said something to him as well, but only he could hear it.

He turned and looked at the sunset again, there was barely a sliver left on the horizon, and it was retreating quickly. He looked back at her with yearning in his eyes. But she nodded, “I know,” she said softly, “go, I’ll see you again.”

He took a deep breath and brought her hands up and kissed them before turning away. He held her hands for as long as he could as he walked to the doors, but eventually they fell from each other's grip.

He paused right in front of the swinging doors, his hand resting on the top of one. He looked to the dying light again.

Anna suddenly rushed over to him and hugged him from behind, “don't worry,” she whispered, “I’ll be right behind you.”

The man took a deep breath, and Anna let him go. 

He stepped through the doors just as the last of the sun sunk below the horizon. 

Anna stood there watching the street outside for a long time, and I sat frozen on my bar stool watching her. 

When the last glow from the day turned to darkness, Anna turned around and rushed upstairs. A few moments later, she came down with a small trunk stuffed with her few belongings. She pulled a few of the bills from the money she had been given, and stuffed the rest in her bag before heading toward the doors.

“Wait!” I called, “Where are you going?”

She stopped in the same place the man had in front of the double doors. “The coach to San Francisco,” she said, “Like we were going to a long time ago.”

With that, she left. I watched her walk down the street to where I knew the stage was parked, waiting for a good paying traveler.

I was alone in the saloon once again, trying to make sense of what just happened. I reached out and felt the man's glass. It was just as warm as the rest of my surroundings. There was no rational way to explain his cold hands.

I think that's what stuck with me the most that night. I could explain away almost everything except for his frigid hands. I laid on my uncomfortable bed, but no sleep would come. My mind raced until the early morning hours.

It has been a month or so since my strange encounter with the man and Anna, and I am happy to say I am writing this as I sit in a stagecoach on my way to San Francisco. I had finally saved enough money with my meager pay as a pianist to be on my way to real civilization. 

But as I look back at the shrinking town I cannot help but feel a certain sense of spiritual tie to the pathetic little place. What I witnessed here has changed me forever.

Maybe, I think, the town of Midpoint is more aptly named than I first believed.  

won’t you stick around? (sensation)

fem!percabeth + college late nights (part 2)

Read on Ao3

i kinda like the way we talk without the sound i'm living for the moments we can't be without

need u more ..//.. shaded

“Percy!”

“Hey,” she smiles, settling into the hug.

“You’re sure you won’t fail any classes for this?”

“Who could say no to the Hero of Olympus? And I’m not missing that much class. I left after my only class Friday morning, and I should be back in time for my Wednesday night.”

“I would scold you for taking advantage of your professors, but I missed you too much for that.” Annabeth takes her bag and sets it down in the corner of her room.

“I drove for two days for you, you better be nice.”

Annabeth pulls herself up onto her bed, grabbing the small sketchbook from its place on top of her pillow. “I’ll be nicer once I finish this sketch that’s due tomorrow.”

“You do that… I need to sleep for a few hours.” She’s barely slept in the past two days, but it’s not like she hasn’t had it worse. She took a power nap every few hours, and that was enough. With another nap and a quick shower at a motel in the middle of the night, she’s still feeling okay, but she knows she needs to rest up so she can start driving back in the morning. It’s still worth it — because she gets to see Annabeth, even if only for a night. And like Hades she’s getting on an airplane; that’s one fear she hasn’t quite conquered.

Annabeth stares at Percy expectantly, “Come on, Perce. You can sleep up here.”

“You're working, I don't wanna get in the way. I'll go crash on the couch.”

She rolls her eyes and extends her hand, “Come here.” It wouldn’t matter to her if Percy got in the way, though she knows it would be easy enough to work around her.

Percy sighs and climbs up with her, curling into her lap. She eventually settles, her head resting on Annabeth’s hip, arms wrapped around her leg.

She props up her other knee, resting her sketchbook up against her thigh. Glancing ahead at the reference pinned on her wall, she draws, fine lines and precise angles; a perfectly captured study of the industrial steel support beams of the dilapidated warehouse in the picture.

She nudges Percy once it's finished a few hours later, but she's in too deep of a slumber. It might just be instinct — a remnant of the days when sleep was hard to come by — but she looks so peaceful that she can't bear disturbing her.

So she draws, pencil moving across paper, with little reason. She draws the lamp in the corner of her room, the collection of objects strewn across her desk, little things she can see from where she is, trying to fill up the time until Percy wakes up.

When she’s run out of things to draw, Percy’s still sleeping; so calm and quiet. And still, she looks so beautiful. A hero, and the most gorgeous girl she’s ever seen. It’s striking to her, the difference between the way she looks in the middle of battle. Still beautiful, but her face so focused, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed. The way she looks right now is so different, Annabeth almost can’t picture her as the same girl — she looks too innocent, filled with a peace they’ve never known. She wonders who they might’ve been if things were different, if they met as normal kids. She hopes they’d still be here; together.

It’s late, much later than she would stay up herself on a Sunday night. She's considering just calling it a night and making it up to Percy in the morning, when she starts to stir, stretching out with a yawn.

“How long was I out?”

“Almost 5 hours. Feel better?”

Percy hums an affirmation, “Finish your drawing?”

“Yeah. Did some other sketches too while you were sleeping. Figured you needed the rest.” Annabeth flips through the pages, showing her.

Her thumb catches two pages instead of just one. “Wait, you skipped one.”

“Ugh, don’t embarrass me, Percy,” she laughs, handing her the sketchbook and crossing her arms. It feels weird. She’s never been so sentimental — but Percy really looked so pretty clutching her legs, and she couldn’t help but capture that beauty.

Percy turns the page back, and a look of wonder falls onto her face. “Annabeth, this is incredible.”

She blushes, “It’s nothing.”

“No, this… it’s amazing.”

“I was thinking about minoring in art.”

“You should. Seriously, Annabeth. This is really, really good, I— Where did you learn how to do this?”

“Well, the major is based around the art history department. Remember how I mentioned we had to do one studio class?”

She nods. “You're taking that right now, right?”

“Yeah, and I really like it.” She bites her lip. “I’ve been practicing in my spare time. It’s kinda just like architecture drawings — observing shapes, and angles — but it's also looking at the way light hits things and how it changes your perceptions.”

Her eyes light up in the same way they do when she talks about her dreams for the future. “I think you should go for it.”

“Yeah?” Annabeth asks, a smile coming to her face as she sets the sketchbook aside.

“Yeah.”

She kisses Percy’s forehead and holds her close, fingers running through her hair. “I missed you.”

“You get possessive when you miss me,” Percy chuckles. “I like it.”

“I like you.”

“Aww, that’s so embarrassing,” Percy teases, running a hand up her stomach.

She grabs her hand, and leans in close enough that her lips brush Percy’s as she says, “You’re insufferable.” The mischievous grin on her face as she hops off the bed says it all.

“Where are you going?”

“Kitchen,” Annabeth answers, not looking back.

Percy follows on her heel like a puppy. “Hey. Let's go somewhere.”

She stops just short of the cabinet. “Yeah? What’s your plan?”

Percy shrugs. “Um. No plan? I just want to spend time with you.”

“Humor me, what’s even open at 1 AM besides… bars and McDonald’s?”

“Don’t know. Come on, let’s just go.” Percy tugs on her arm, digging her heels into the floor jokingly.

“We can spend time together here. I’ll put on a movie or something,” she manages through a laugh.

“Annabeth, we can watch a movie any time. I'm only here for—” she glances at the clock, “—eight more hours. You trust me,” she smiles, not a question, but a truth.

“Okay,” she sighs.

“Okay, I'm gonna go put on real clothes.” Percy presses a quick kiss to her cheek and runs off.

Annabeth gives a wide-eyed glance to her roommate, standing by the coffee machine, watching it drip into her mug with unparalleled fascination. She's not sure how much she heard or saw — and she's not sure she cares if she did, to be honest. The better question is why she's drinking coffee at two in the morning.

She points an accusing finger: “Not even a word. At least I have the decency to stay here and procrastinate in my pajamas.”

“No, no,” Annabeth laughs, “I wasn't going to say anything,” —an obvious lie.

“So, friend, huh?”

Annabeth opens her mouth to speak, the words catching in her throat. She takes a second; takes a breath, and says, “Actually. My girlfriend. And best friend.”

“Ah,” she smiles, “I thought I sensed overdramatic gay pining.”

Relief washes over Annabeth at how calm and casual her reaction is — but oh, how wrong she is. “Trust me, that's not pining.” She knows pining, regrettably, and this isn't it. On their scale of reactions to time spent apart, a month of talking almost every night while still getting used to their new schedules was nothing.

“Well, it seems like she really missed you.”

Of course she did. And— “I missed her.”

She's drinking her coffee black — what kind of masochist drinks black coffee in the middle of the night on a Sunday night (or rather, Monday morning)? Perhaps the worst part: she sips it slowly, like she enjoys it. “She looks at you like… god, I don't even know, but it's intense.”

Annabeth crosses her arms. “I mean, we've been together for two years, and we've known each other even longer.”

“My boyfriend hasn't looked at me like that since the first few months. Damn, here I thought you were still in the honeymoon phase.”

“We grew up together — been through some shit,” she shrugs, not particularly wanting to elaborate.

“I get that.”

Annabeth doubts she does. “Yeah.”

Percy emerges from her room in a plain navy sundress, jean jacket draped over her shoulder. Annabeth’s eyes linger a bit too long as she looks her over. “Stop staring at my legs, Chase.”

“I— they're long!” Smooth, Annabeth.

Percy chuckles, “Messing with you. Grab your shoes, let’s go.”

“Annabeth, when will you be back?”

“Um. I actually don’t know,” she grins.

It turns out, Washington Square Park is beautiful at night. Despite it being right outside her window, she never did much besides walk through it to save time walking to class. Much quieter, too. There’s still a bustle of tourists, but nothing like it was during the day.

Percy holds her hand tight, swinging their arms back and forth deliberately as they walk. “I miss the city.”

“I never realized how beautiful it could be.”

“You’re majoring in architecture.”

“Yeah, but like… here everything’s so cramped and purpose built. It doesn’t seem like there’s room for beauty. But when I see things like this,” she looks up at the arch, illuminated marble against the dark sky, “it reminds me of all the things I want to make. And why — for these moments. For the girl staring up at the great big world at her fingertips and noticing the little things. The grain of wood in a table; once bark of a tree. Speckles in marble statues. The stippled texture of brick on a walkway.” She leans her head against Percy’s shoulder, clutching her arm tight. “The person who made this didn’t know what it would look like a hundred years in the future. It stood alone, when the night sky wasn’t lit up by street lights, and ‘skyscraper’ meant 10 stories. That America’s long gone, and so are the buildings, but this little piece of it still stands.”

“That is beautiful.” She has a way with words, doesn’t she?

While not eerily quiet, the crowd has started to die down, the bustle of tourists slowing, and Percy knows that’s their cue to leave. She twirls Annabeth around, and pulls her in the direction of the street closest to them.

“Where are we going?”

“I don’t know!”

“Isn’t it, I don’t know, dangerous for two girls to walk the streets of a big city alone in the middle of the night?” Annabeth raises an eyebrow.

“First off, we’re right next to a college campus and tourist hotspot — this is one of the safest parts of the city. Second, we kick ass.”

She can’t refute that. It’s easy to forget Percy grew up here, and knows this city like the back of her hand. And they do kick ass. They walk for a while, with no sense of direction, passing blocks and avenues; ascending and descending, until Annabeth says, “Let’s get pizza.”

Percy’s face lights up, “I was waiting for you to say something spontaneous like that. Where do you wanna go?”

“Pizza place across the street.”

It looks divey, but it ends up being some of the best pizza Annabeth’s ever had, and she’s glad they took the chance. They share a pie and hold hands across the table, just laughing, and smiling, and she feels normal — It hits her hard.

“What’s wrong?”

Her smile falls away, but it’s not a look of sadness. It’s reflection; every moment that’s led them here. “I didn’t plan this,” she starts, squeezing her hand, “I tried so hard to have a plan for everything, but there’s no way I could’ve planned this. And I’m just realizing I’ve never been more happy with my life than I am right now, and it’s all because of things I wasn’t able to control. That’s… ironic, right?”

“You may not’ve planned it, but you still made this what it is. It’s what we make.”

“Don’t get all philosophical on me over pizza.” Annabeth rolls her eyes.

“You started it!”

That’s true — but she can’t help it. It’s like the whole world fell into place around her without her even noticing. Wasn’t it in her nature to know things? To be observant? “Touché.”

“What do you wanna do?” Percy asks her once they’ve returned to the streets, having polished off the last slice.

She hums, thinking. “Crêpe place. It’s on the way back.”

“It’s…” Percy glances at her watch, “2:30. It’s probably closed.”

“Nope, it’s open until 3.”

“And you know this why?”

“It was 2:45 AM and I wanted crêpes,” she shrugs.

They’re damn good crêpes. If there’s one thing she misses the most about NYC, it’s her mom. Second: Annabeth. If there’s a third thing, it’s incredibly delicious food from unexpected places. Let it never be said Percy’s a girl without her priorities in order.

They wander back, slowly weaving their way towards Annabeth’s dorm, Percy’s arm wrapped around her waist as they walk. “I don’t want to leave you.”

“I’m not going to beg you to stay, if that’s what you’re looking for,” Annabeth laughs. “You need to pass your classes.”

Percy’s pretty sure she could ditch every single class for the next four years and they’d still give her a degree. But… she likes her classes. Which is new. New Rome understands her — it’s a school for Demigods, of course they cater to ADHD and dyslexia. Even more striking, she’s learning about things that she actually finds interesting. While she isn’t dead set on a specific field like Annabeth, there’s a few things she’s genuinely excited to look into. Marine life and sustainability — because she’ll always be in touch with the sea and the earth — and somehow, education? She’s pressed to admit Paul has rubbed off on her more than she’d ever expected, and having teachers that understand her disability is something she wishes she had as a kid. It’s something to think about.

“I know. I just miss you. I call sometimes… just to make sure you’re okay.”

“Percy, I do too,” Annabeth admits, leaning into her shoulder.

She smiles, “Gods, I thought I was being so creepy and weird.”

“For the record, you are weird.” Percy glares at her, so she elaborates. “So I… had a bit of a nightmare last week. It wasn't bad, but… I called,” she pauses, cracking a smile, “And you had your head hanging off the side of the bed; all tangled up in the blankets. That's weird.”

Percy scoffs, but she’s most definitely not lying. After a pause, she shifts the conversation: “You can wake me up if you need me, you know that right?”

“No, I mean,” she sighs, “I just needed to see you. That's all.”

She knows. “I mean anytime.”

Annabeth nods, “Same here.”

The second the elevator doors in her building close, Annabeth pulls Percy into a slow kiss, one she’s been waiting for since the second she saw her today.

“Took you long enough,” Percy laughs, threading her fingers through Annabeth’s hair. She tastes like marshmallow and chocolate, which she should’ve expected. It takes all of her willpower to pull away when the doors open at her floor.

Annabeth unlocks the door, and as soon as they step inside she hears, “I’m awake, so for the love of all things holy — no loud sex!”

A devilish look pops onto Percy’s face. “Quiet sex, got i—” Percy shouts back; Annabeth sticks her hand over her mouth a second too late.

“Really, Percy?”

“What?” she smirks, “At least I didn’t tell her you were the loud one.”

“Seaweed Brain,” she shakes her head, and heads into her room, quickly tossing her clothes in a pile to deal with in the morning. For now, she grabs a t-shirt out of Percy’s duffel bag, and climbs into her bed. They have six hours, and Annabeth intends to spend them holding her.

Percy follows, kicking her converse off in the doorway and wrestling into a tank top and shorts, finding her way into Annabeth’s arms as quickly as she can manage. As she curls into her grasp, head resting on her shoulder and legs intertwined, a sense of peace washes over her, unparalleled even by the end of the war. Annabeth’s arm cradles her head, hand stroking her shoulder.

It’s a departure from how they usually sleep, Percy spooning Annabeth, arm around her waist to hold her close, their legs tangled together. She’s almost forgotten just how good it feels to be held by her. It’s a feeling she can’t easily explain. When she holds Annabeth, she’s keeping her safe. Of course, she could hold her own any day — but it brings her comfort to hold her in her arms; her warm skin and soft curves nestled perfectly, safe, real. This is so, so different. This is the feeling of Annabeth’s strength, and her own vulnerability, wrapped in the knowledge and trust that she’ll never let go.

Annabeth whispers, “I love you,” and Percy falls asleep faster than she has in almost ten years.

giselle/roger nsfw headcanons no-one asked for

except for my dear, filthy Queen Giselle Defense Squad @prettyboyroger & @ginghampearlsnsweettea. Disclaimer; I’m 20 and don’t know shit about being pregnant/having kids/being an aging rockstar, okay?

70s (beginning of their relationship) 

i don't know how to phrase this politely

angry??

like they'd been both passive aggressive and openly hostile to one another for a few years

so when they first hook up after their terrible setup date it's sort of a 'i can't believe i'm doing this, but /yes/ i want to, please for the love of god stop talking you're ruining it, roger'

she makes sure he gets her off the first time they sleep together 

they don't actually sleep together for a few weeks after the first date, like they go out, and it's weird at first because of course it is, and they usually take separate cars there and then back to their own homes, and they feel like they're in a weird gray area because they don't know if it'll last 

one night, it's like eleven and roger's come straight from rehearsals, and he hadn't told her he'd be showing up, but he's on her doorstep and she's smiling at him like 'what are you doing here' and he just kisses her

"what are you doing here?"

"i- is that a joke? i mean, i can leave if you really want me to" 

"don't be daft, come inside."

sex is fun, and they're adults and rock musicians it's not like they don't know what they're doing 

and i mean that both metaphorically and physically 

giselle is Flexible and roger can keep a rhythm like nobody's business and both of them have excellent stamina i'll tell you that for free 

they still argue a lot, but a lot of the time they argue just to have angry or makeup sex 

they're both switches, but giselle leans more towards being more dominant 

roger smacked her ass when they were hanging out with the rest of the band and she almost decked him on the spot, instead when they get back to his place, she makes him apologise and she teases him so much as punishment that he's Begging for her to touch him before she does 

they sleep together often, but it always feels quite casual, despite the fact that the relationship is serious; it's like the john mulaney quote when he's asked the last time he made love "made love? in college, but i had sex yesterday"

late late 70s/early 80s 

they're comfortable with their relationship and things become more intimate and like... softer? if that makes sense 

like giselle wakes up late one sunday morning and roger's sitting at the kitchen table and he's cooked them both breakfast, and like, it's not the first time but something about it just makes her heart melt and they have sex in the kitchen

neither of them are really the type to say 'i love you' during sex, but she's sitting at the edge of the kitchen counter and he's kneeling with his head between her legs, she's got her hand in his hair and she just whimpers 'god i love you' and he takes a moment to pause, press a kiss to her inner thigh and look up at her with a smile 'i love you too' 

so now it's sort of a coin flip between sweet and more playful, or a combination of the two 

they're also both insufferable teases 

giselle gets invited to sing at a red carpet event and she brings roger along, and she stops to do an interview and he leans in and whispers something to her completely straight faced like he's a secret service agent informing the president about the presence of a bomb or something, and giselle just freezes and the expression on her face is that she's just been given some very surprising news when actually roger's just told her exactly what the sight of her in that dress makes him want to do, and that he knows how close the nearest bathroom is if she's interested 

it takes her a full ten seconds to reboot her brain, and she finishes the interview without acknowledging anything had happened - as soon as the interview's over and they've walked far enough away, she does smile a little bit 

"i don't trust you not to ruin my makeup, so not until after the show" 

"okay, that's wise i suppose, but still..." and he trails off and gives her a /very obvious/ look over, and it takes a surprising amount of giselle's self control not to let him have his way (what can she say he looks damn good in that suit) 

after roger cheats on her, and they get back together, there's like three months where he's barely allowed to Touch her 

when she finally sleeps with him again, it's slow, deliberate, and he treats her like a queen 

it's another apology on top of all the others he'd given 

and she'd stopped being outwardly angry about it in the past few weeks but it all comes back 

"i cannot fucking Believe you think you could ever find someone better than me" 

it's easily some of the best sex roger's ever had and it was out of Spite

sex goes back to being angry/makeup sex for a while before giselle concedes, missing how soft and sweet he could be at times 

okay so 'All The Queen's Men' was written about the American leg of their tour, where they'd already gone through the European leg, and the rest of queen had found out the hard way during that first leg that the adrenaline of performing really gets both roger and giselle going

there's a fifteen minute intermission between their performances, and they alternate who opens for who 

after a particularly incredible performance by giselle, she's absolutely glowing with energy and adrenaline and roger can tell, and he takes her back to her dressing room for a quickie when he's meant to be warming up 

he ends up being about three minutes late and has to run on stage, and freddie calls him out on it, asking him where he's been 

roger sits himself behind the drums and leans in very close to the microphone, smirking 'just helping a friend practice her falsetto' with absolutely zero subtlety 

freddie looks like he regrets asking and the line becomes Iconic amongst queen fans, especially girls who were thirsty over roger 

the public still don't really know about giselle and roger being married, especially since they want to keep their relationship quiet after the whole cheating thing happened, people know they dated but it just sort of.... never really hit the public eye if that makes sense 

a lot of girls like to claim it was them that he was talking about, and even though people speculate about it being giselle, even after the article comes out, some fans still think he might have been talking about someone else, that he may have cheated again, which giselle thinks is one of the dumbest things in the world when she reads it, she doesn't confirm anything until Much Much Later 

she posts a #flashbackfriday clip of the line on instagram, since the concert was recorded, with the caption 'so that's what the kids were calling it back then.... '

lilith and rosemary are used to knowing too much about their parents because there's countless books, articles, and documentaries about them, but they still play mortified in the comments

okay jumping back to the 80s and the tour 

after a show you cannot leave them alone for five minutes 

okay not after every show, but after a Lot 

whoever opened the show for the night will be all over whoever closes the show, and they disappear together almost immediately 

they'll eventually turn up for drinks at the after party; giselle looks mostly innocent, her clothes aren't too dishevelled and she ties her hair back so it doesn't look too messy. roger always has the smuggest smile and if he's got a hickey or scratch marks, he's doing all he can to show them off

giselle doesn't get on her knees for just anyone, but damn if she didn't drop when roger came off the stage at intermission and she saw him in eyeliner and leather pants for the first time in person (a la We Will Rock You at madison square garden in the movie)

tbh she did not enjoy sucking dick when she was younger, but the way it makes roger moans is like music and she's grown to enjoy it, but only with him 

giselle is very good at keeping quiet and not getting caught, and roger likes to try and test this 

the rest of the band have learned to knock on the door of every smallish space they want to enter, closet, cupboard, bathroom, etc, because if giselle and roger are in there, there's a 70% chance the door is locked, but only a 40% chance you'll be able to hear them in there 

one time (early in the tour) brian comes to tell them about the afterparty, he listens at the door and it seems safe, but he opens it, and roger's got giselle pressed against the dressing room mirror, and he dress is pulled up around her waist and she's biting her hand with her head throwing back and she's been struggling so hard to keep quiet, the moment she sees brian she lets herself be loud, shouting 'Fuck Off' at the top of her lungs and she reaches blindly to throw a can of hairspray at him before he closes the door, and so the seal's been broken so she gasps and moans over roger's fucking laughter at the whole situation, but they're both too close for it to have ruined the mood 

early 80s (trying for baby)

it starts because honestly, John and Veronica's kids are So Cute and things are finally settling down between Roger and Giselle, and they're both sort of like..... we could have kids, like that's a thing we can definitely do

also they're well aware their kids are gonna be outrageously pretty 

giselle doesn't do things by halves and so she goes to see doctors and she and roger sit down and actually talk about having a plan, and what it would mean for their lives to have kids 

the doctor is like..... the best conditions to conceive are stress free ones (being rockstars is kind of counterproductive) 

so essentially they plan to Officially start trying for a baby in about a year, once their lives have calmed down a little and they can dedicate time to this, ahem, endeavour 

that being said, before this, giselle was quite vigilant with birth control, but once they've planned everything she goes off of it so that there's time for any hormone changes will be corrected by the time they're actually trying for a baby 

and at first they're still using condoms because The Plan, but after a while it just sort of becomes a 'well if it happens it happens, but it's not like we're tracking anything just yet so it's not like there's that high of a chance' 

they fuck Everywhere 

both of them try and justify it as 'maybe a different place/position is better for conception' which they both know is bullshit but it leads to some pretty interesting sex

also public sex

not that that was something either of them was Super into before, like they'd done it a lot on tour, and when they were first together, but now 

"what if our kid was conceived at the grammys" (1983; giselle had been nominated for best music video for Heaven Sent) (it would be their third year in a row fucking in the bathroom at the grammys, which giselle is actually very proud of) 

like she knows it's a joke but giselle's also Super Into It 

they try to wait until after the award show, but giselle wins, and the moment she gets back to their seats he pulls her into the bathroom and eats her out, telling her how proud he is 

they fuck at the grammys, and then procede to get high and fuck at the afterparty too 

it's honestly one of the best nights of giselle's life and she remembers about 65% of it 

also, roger meant the conception thing as a joke but...... whoops. 

they're almost a year ahead of schedule 

giselle panics at first because it's Too Soon, but roger's there 'we've literally already got a plan? just change the dates, we'll be fine' 

but also they're both Super Excited!! 

for the first few months they're still all over each other 

he's So Enamoured with giselle when she's pregnant, he very genuinely thinks she's the most beautiful woman in the world 

"what if our kid is prettier than us" is an actual thing he's said; "we're both very attractive people, Zelle, what if that kid gets only the good parts of us and has no, like, humanizing flaw regarding looks?" 

"excuse me, roger, what do you think is my humanising flaw regarding my looks is?" 

"that's my point! we don't have one either; this kid might end up being the most attractive person alive!" 

when the ultrasound reveals that they're having twins giselle cries, she's so excited but also so nervous to carry twins

roger spins her around in a hug as soon as she's standing (he went with her to the appointment and was just frozen when they got the news, staring at the picture of the ultrasound absolutely shocked, but in a good way) and she has to be like 'careful, gotta take it easy' but they're both ecstatic!! 

i won't go in depth because it personally squicks me out, but there's definitely pregnant sex

roger's so proud of himself and of giselle 

they officially tell the rest of the band when they have them over for dinner, and giselle hasn't really planned exactly how she wants to tell them, but before dinner even starts she hears roger in the living room talking to freddie, and he announces 'also hey look what we made' and she peers in and sees him pull out the picture of the ultrasound, and just the way he's so casual about it just eases her anxiety so much, and she can't help but grin because Roger's smiling so brightly as Freddie hugs him so tightly, and they call the others over 

roger sees giselle by the door and he waves her over, wraps his arm around her as they're both showered with congratulations 

"i knew you were worried about it, and if i recall we were supposed to keep your stress levels down" he murmurs it to her so she's the only one who can hear it, and they're smiling at each other, and the other three don't know what's being said but they've literally never seen the two of them so in love (which goes back to the bickering in public, sweet in private thing) and it's like 'ah yes, these two really do belong together'

late 80s/early 90s (after rosemary's born) 

first of all, literally any of other band members are happy to babysit but rosemary ends up preferring to stay with John and lilith doesn't have a favourite but Jim's the only one who can tell her it's bedtime who she'll listen to without being told twice 

Roger and Giselle fool around a lot when the kids are still babies/toddlers since they sleep in another room, but once the kids are able to walk around and open doors and they're no longer in cribs it becomes a lot harder 

they're interrupted A Lot even when they think they have time 

rosemary's asleep in her crib upstairs and lilith's on a playdate, and giselle finds herself pressed to the counter with roger's hands in her shorts as they're preparing dinner, and he tugs her pants down right as there's a knock at the door 

"fuck, is it 5:30 already? that was quick" "don't worry, love, we can finish this tonight" roger smirks, kissing her quickly. 

giselle pulls up her pants and opens the door where lilith's friend's mother is dropping her off, and the other woman gives her a Look and giselle's not sure if she looks flustered or if it's because she's Giselle, but either way the woman doesn't say anything, she just smiles and thanks giselle for letting lilith come to the park 

when the girls get older and can look after themselves on weekend mornings, there's a lot of sleepy, quiet morning sex for roger and giselle

it's a rare moment of peace that they get to themselves and they're going to make the most of it 

having kids has changed their lives dramatically, and so a lot of the time they take advantage of their alone time in the shower 

idk i don't have huge amount of headcanons for this era i'm sorry 

late 90s/present 

they're disgustingly affectionate once the girls move out 

not that they weren't sweet and loving before, but now they don't have to worry about embarrassing or scarring their daughters 

even though they're getting older they still can't keep their hands to themselves, maybe now moreso than before 

especially after both the girls have just moved out 

there's a moment when they're both still in pyjamas, or well, giselle's in pyjama shorts and her shirt's been tossed somewhere to the side and roger wasn't wearing a shirt to begin with, and she's sitting on the counter, he's standing between her legs and he presses a kiss to her collar. she's got her hands on his hips, her thumbs dipping below the waistband of his pants, and he's got one of his hands is on the small of her back, holding her close, and the other on her breast, his thumb gently brushing over nipple, and she just starts laughing 

"it feels like we just moved in all over again"

it becomes almost a game, but it's so much more tender and sweet this time around, they're having fun and reminiscing in their own way 

so yeah, Super affectionate and handsy now that they can appreciate their time to themselves, if that makes sense

Lets Talk About Brian and Roger Going On Tour Again; 

giselle performs with them at one of their tour stops, and after she's finished her songs, she thanks the crowd and goes to leave, but turns back and runs up the drumrisers to give roger a kiss, and the whole crowd awwws 

"no, please don't encourage them" brian's there pinching the bridge of his nose and having flashbacks the 80s tour. roger pulls giselle in for a proper kiss and brian looks like his soul has left his body; "also just a heads up to the crew, i'd avoid roger's dressing room after the show" 

giselle pulls away from roger who's now laughing his fucking ass off, and she grabs the microphone and it squeals but she doesn't care, she gets super close to the microphone and just says "that was one time, brian"  

"one time that you saw, at least" everyone hears roger correct her, and the crowd is going absolutely mad, brian's just laughing (it was a long time ago after all) and giselle finally leaves the stage

he's right tho, performing still gets both of them going So Much

August 8: Sneak Some Zucchini onto Your Neighbour’s Porch Day - Part 3 (Finale)

London, England, United Kingdom – August 1887

At the age of eleven, Ciel Phantomhive had seen and experienced more than other children his age: He had become the Queen’s Watchdog when he was only ten years old and established his own company in the same year. He had worked hard for it, and it was quickly gaining its place amongst the kingdom’s biggest concerns and in the people’s hearts.

He had survived the raid on his manor, survived a month with cultists, made a demon his butler, outwitted and murdered numerous people double and triple his age as the Watchdog.

Still, Ciel had never heard of something as ridiculous as what his fiancée told him one August Monday when she paid him a surprise visit at the townhouse while he was having breakfast.

“Can you repeat what you have said?” asked Ciel and put down his cutlery. His fiancée Elizabeth Midford became a whirlwind when she was overtaken by her own excitement. He sometimes had problems following her rapid speech – though he was not sure if this had been the case today or if the ridiculousness of her words had indeed reached him, but his brain was still attempting to process it.

“Of course,” Elizabeth said with a bright smile. Like a sun, she was always bright and full of energy. Sometimes, Ciel caught himself wondering how they could be related to each other when she was like that and he was her opposite. The reminder that she had inherited her bright passion from her father, who was only Ciel’s uncle by marriage, always came a second later.

“Would you like to take a seat first, Lady Elizabeth?” Sebastian Michaelis enquired. He had been standing silently by his master’s side while he had eaten – an oddity because Sebastian usually alwayshad something to say – and had kept his silence when Elizabeth had barged in and started to talk. He likely had not found any opportunity to raise his voice due to her rambling until now.

“Oh, of course, thank you, Sebastian,” said Elizabeth and sat down on the chair Sebastian swiftly pulled out.

“Ciel, I was saying,” she continued when she was properly seated and Sebastian had fetched her a plate and cup, “that today is a special day for our family.”

Ciel blinked at her. “It is?”

“Yes. Since our grandparents’ youth, the Phantomhives have been observing a tradition every August 8th.”

“‘Every August 8th’?”

“It’s not quite ‘every August 8th,’” Elizabeth admitted. “One year was skipped, but, apart from that, it was an annual event.”

“‘Every August 8th but one’ is still very frequent. How come I have never heard of a tradition connected to this date before?”

Elizabeth smiled sheepishly. “Well, you see, Ciel… The tradition can only be upheld here in London, specifically in this neighbourhood, and it is an ‘embarrassing’ tradition. Mother and Uncle Vincent have been upholding the tradition on their own for years: They met here at the townhouse for this day and then continued with their regular lives afterwards. They only told Father and Aunt Rachel and kept it a secret from us children. However, Mother told Edward and me about the tradition a year ago as it can only be done in pairs, and last year… last year, she could not do it with Uncle Vincent anymore.” Her voice cracked at this part and her gaze momentarily turned sad, but she quickly caught herself and continued as cheerfully as before. The break had only lasted a second or two, though Ciel had still noticed it. It was always easy to spot a cloud in an otherwise clear blue sky; even if it appeared for only a moment.

“At any rate, it was Edward’s and my turn last year. I wanted to tell you about it then, Ciel, but Mother insisted that it may be better to wait at least one more year. After all, you were so busy arranging your business under your new title and building your company,” Elizabeth went on. “I am sorry for not telling you sooner, Ciel.”

“This is fine,” Ciel replied. “It was very considerate of you not to tell me about it last year. I was indeed very busy a year ago around this time; I doubt I would have had time to worry about an old family tradition. What is it about anyway?”

“We have to sneak zucchini onto the neighbour’s porch,” Elizabeth said as if it was the most normal thing in the entire world.

He stared at her and blurted out a “What?”Sebastian would scold him for his bad manners later, but he could not care less about it now. Learning more about zucchinis and neighbours and porches was the priority.

He couldn’t believe he had just thought this.

“Forty years ago, our grandparents started to sneak zucchinis onto the Lincolns’ porch. Everything started on a Sunday when the Lincolns were being even louder than they usually were – I do not want to say this, but you know how they are – and our grandparents decided that the only way to retaliate against the noise was to sneak zucchinis onto their porch and thoroughly confuse them. Mother said that while she understands that something had to be done against the Lincolns, she cannot understand why her parents had to use zucchinis to retaliate against them. She asked but never got an answer for this.”

Ciel wanted to reply something, even opened his mouth, but closed it when he couldn’t think of anything. What could anyone respond to something like that?

“Although this annual event definitely confused and horrified them,” Elizabeth continued nonchalantly, “the Lincolns never moved. Therefore, the tradition was continued. Our grandparents upheld it until their passing, then Mother and Uncle Vincent took over. Last year, Edward and I did it. Since 1847, ‘Sneak Some Zucchini onto Your Neighbour’s Porch Day’ has only been missed in 1866. It is a well-kept family secret, and the Lincolns have never suspected that the Phantomhives – or, now, the Phantomhives and the Midfords – are behind the yearly appearance of zucchini on their porch.”

Ciel rubbed his eyes – another action that would bring him a scolding; he did not care. He thought about how he had woken up and seen that it was August 8 on the calendar, remembered that it had been August 7 yesterday, August 6 the day before yesterday… It was not April 1st. He had not fallen asleep one day and slept through months.

It was not April Fool’s, but it sure felt like Elizabeth was trying to fool him with this story.

“Lizzie,” Ciel eventually said, “this is the truth, right?”

Much to his disappointment, Elizabeth nodded. “You know that I dislike lying to you,” she said. “Last year, Edward and I struggled a little to accomplish the mission, but it went well in the end.”

“Then, I wish you both the best of luck for this year,” Ciel replied and took hold of his cutlery again.

“Where is Edward anyway?”

“Why should Edward be here?”

“For the…” he hesitated to say it out loud himself, “Zucchini Day.”

Elizabeth chuckled. “Ciel, I am here and am telling you all this because it is your turn this year to do this with me.”

***

“What?” Ciel exclaimed and nearly let go of the cutlery. He felt Sebastian’s disapproving eyes on him, but the warm panic that was slowly filling his body was stronger. “Lizzie, I am sorry, but I cannot do this. There is no way I will try to smuggle some zucchinis onto the Lincolns’ porch, no matter how insufferable they are and how many sleeps they have disturbed. How would we even do this? As far as I know, the porch is fairly visible…”

He saw Elizabeth inflate a little, and he felt a slight pang seeing her like that, but the panic, the almighty panic triumphed over that too. He was the Queen’s Watchdog, the Earl of Phantomhive. He had no athletic bone in his body; if the mission went wrong, there was no way he could escape on time. This might be the year when the secret would finally come out. He was eleven years old, and people already did not take him seriously – how would they treat him if they learned of his participation in such an event? Treat Elizabeth and the others too? Ciel did not particularly care about what anyone thought of him. However, he could not, would not hurt his pride like that. But then, it seemed important to Elizabeth to continue this absolutely ridiculous tradition, and he hadmade a contract with a demon for whom it would be easy to place some zucchinis on a porch undetected after all…

Ciel looked over to Sebastian who must have realised what his master was planning because he said, “If the family tradition requires physical activity and prowess, the Young Master may not be suitable for it. He is rather helpless when it comes to such things. Considering that you had difficulties partaking in this tradition with your brother, Lady Elizabeth, it may be better to find someone else to help you with it. If there is too little time to invite Lord Edward, we may need another substitute…”

Ciel narrowed his eyes at his butler. There was a slight, mocking smile on Sebastian’s lips as he said all that. He did not like that smile, did not like Sebastian’s tone, and, most importantly, Ciel did not like being called “helpless” and being talked over by his own butler. And while Ciel knew that Sebastian had deliberately said all that to provoke him, he also knew that all Sebastian had said he actually thought. After all, Sebastian could not lie.

Sebastian thought that Ciel could not do anything on his own? He would convince him of the contrary.

“As this is a family tradition,” Ciel said, glaring at Sebastian, “I can and will handle this myself.”

“Really?” exclaimed Elizabeth and nearly jumped up from her chair. “I am so happy to be able to do this with you, and don’t worry, Ciel: We don’t necessarily have to engage in much physical activity.”

“That’s good to know,” Ciel replied and then something clicked in his head. “Lizzie, why was upholding the tradition so difficult for you and Edward last year?”

“Well, you see, Ciel…”

***

Ever since Aaron Lincoln had been old enough to understand what was happening, he had wanted to find out how zucchinis always appeared on his house’s porch every August 8th. His father was fantastically apathetic towards everything – Aaron often wondered how he had managed to get married and have a child – and never cared much for August 8. Every year on the same day, zucchinis appeared on his porch. Every time they spelled out “silence.” Every time, Cosmo Lincoln only nodded when his servants hysterically told him about the zucchinis’ reappearance before he went to do something else he could not care for but had to do. He had no sense for anything but stagnation. The family wealth had not risen since he had succeeded his father. The décor in the townhouse had not changed, neither had the interior of their countryside manor. The gardens wore the same flowers and trees. He hosted parties the same way his parents had. If something had worked for a long time, there was no reason to change it – that was Cosmo’s philosophy. And if something did not work at all, it was too bothersome to change it too.

Cosmo simply did not like to do anything at all.

His mother Danielle, Aaron’s grandmother, was both horrified of and fascinated by Zucchini Day. Forever intrigued by this event, the Viscountess had tried to find out its origins but settled on the belief that the Lincoln townhouse had been built on an old graveyard and they were disturbing its ghosts who had decided to send them a firm message every year – in zucchinis, no less. Maybe ghosts had easy access to them, who could know?

Aaron, however, was not like his father or grandmother. Unlike his grandmother, he did not firmly hold onto the first idea that came to his mind, especially not one as ludicrous as “ghosts.” He regularly asked Danielle how ghosts could even carry zucchinis and she would always think of another outlandish explanation. It was a true talent: to say so many words and say so little still. He loved her regardless.

And unlike his father, Aaron had an actual drive. He stood up early every day to go on a run. He studied for hours on end. He always got perfect marks on his exams. He did his fag work at Weston College with utmost care and diligence. He wished to be Green House’s prefect one day. Weston was a prestigious school, the best in the kingdom, perhaps even in the entire world, and becoming a prefect at such a school could open many doors. And Aaron was very eager to open them. He wanted to get to the top. The letter “a” was in his name twice, one after the other. He was an “ace,” a born winner. He could and would master every challenge. He was born for greatness, and he would show the world how great he was.

To Ciel, seventeen-year-old Aaron Lincoln was nothing but an obnoxious idiot with no sense of personal space or sense for anything, really. Ciel did not know much about fashion; an array of people was involved in his wardrobe – Sebastian, Nina, Elizabeth – and he was only there to be turned around, measured, and dressed like a doll. He vetoed the most outrageous outfit suggestions, but otherwise, he wore everything life, or, rather, Sebastian, threw at him. Still, he knew that when he had seen Aaron wearing a bright yellow waistcoat over an aubergine shirt and green-grey trousers that he was what other, sensible people called a “fashion disaster.” Even Elizabeth who always found something to compliment on was at a loss for words whenever she met Aaron. Ciel was not particularly fond of being hounded every time he needed new clothes, but then he remembered Aaron and thought “Maybe that’s what would have become of me too if I had free reign over my wardrobe.”

Then, he remembered how Aaron had once tried to convince him how platypuses had to be alien creatures from outer space which had come to Earth and failed spectacularly trying to camouflage themselves as Terran animals.

No, Ciel would have only ended up like Aaron if he somehow lost at least half of his brain matter.

Knowing very well that Aaron’s attempts at throwing himself as far away as possible from his ancestral apple tree were futile at best, Ciel reacted to Elizabeth’s retelling of last year’s August 8 with only a tired sigh.

Apparently, Aaron “Ace” Lincoln had made it his holy mission to get to the bottom of the strange zucchini appearances. And while he had no wit to spare, he had persistence in abundance. Last year, he simply did not want to leave Edward and Elizabeth out of his sight and gave them lectures on his numerous ridiculous theories (but then, considering the event in question, ridiculous theories might be the only way to go). And when Aaron began one of his lectures, there was no escape. That boy could talk. It was impossible to simply ask for a bathroom break because he did not allow interruptions of any kind. Elizabeth and Edward had eventually managed to turn his attention to only one of them, and the other had had to sneak away and place the zucchinis in a ridiculously short time before Aaron noticed that something was off. They had barely succeeded and had to return home with a serious headache. Elizabeth sheepishly admitted that she had dreamed of zucchinis going on a walk and then dying of exhaustion right in front on the Lincolns’ porch. When breakfast was over and they left the parlour, Ciel made sure to walk past the calendar in the entrance hall. No, it was truly August, not April.

“Now, Ciel, what are we going to do?” Elizabeth asked while he was leading her from the drawing-room to his office. Sebastian followed them like a gloating shadow.

“I am not sure yet,” Ciel replied. “However, we cannot start now: I am not as busy as last year, but I have to do some paperwork now. Also, Her Majesty has given me a task and I need to talk to Undertaker today. I am sorry. Unfortunately,” he said, “Fortunately” he thought, “the meeting cannot be postponed to tomorrow. It will not take long though, so we will have enough time for… to…”

“To sneak zucchinis onto the Lincolns’ porch?” she came to his rescue.

Ciel nodded, and Sebastian opened the door to his office. “Exactly.”

Ciel sat down at his desk and read through the pile of documents on his table. At least, it was fairly small today. Elizabeth walked around the room and inspected the books and the décor while he did his best to finish his work quickly.

“May I come too?” Elizabeth eventually asked.

Ciel looked up from a report on a manufacturing mishap at his Yorkshire factory (his Bitter Rabbits were wonderfully cute and widely popular, but Bitter Rabbits with upside-down sewed-on heads were neither cute nor would they be in any way popular; Ciel pondered over consulting Elizabeth on this matter, but ultimately decided against it).

“Come – where?” Ciel wanted to know.

“To Undertaker.”

He nearly let go of the report in his hands. The Midfords, of course, knew about his occupation, but he did his best to keep them away from everything concerning it. Now, most of his Aristocrats of Evil were remnants of his predecessor’s generation; because of this and the circumstance that Elizabeth was very fond of surprising him with visits, she knew Undertaker and the others. However, apart from Pitt (the Lark Photographic Studio was a normal enough place and also used to belong to his predecessor), Elizabeth only ever met the Evil Nobles at the manor or the townhouse. The sheer thought of bright, radiant Elizabeth in Undertaker’s gloomy funeral parlour gave Ciel a headache. Also, these days, Ciel met Undertaker solely for business reasons – and this business was the one he wanted to keep her away from.

“It won’t take long,” Ciel said. “Maybe an hour or two. You can wait here; you don’t have to come with me. What could you even want there? It’s not a nice place.”

Elizabeth turned away from the painting she had been looking at and to Ciel. “I do not mind that it is not a ‘nice’ place.”

“I’m certain that it was cleaned for the last time before any of us was born, Lizzie.”

“I doubt it has been that long. How could Undertaker live in such a place then?”

“You would be surprised,” Ciel mumbled, and Elizabeth did not seem to have heard him as she continued, “Also, it took so long last year to get the zucchinis onto the Lincolns’ porch. Edward and I had a plan. It was maybe not the best of plans, but Aaron destroyed it and nearly made us fail our mission. I think it would be good to scheme something in the carriage so that we will not lose more time.”

He wanted to reply, but then her gaze softened and he knew that she was not done yet. “And we have barely been able to spend any time together lately. The last time I saw you was on Easter when I invited you to our manor to celebrate – and then you got an urgent message from Her Majesty and had to leave early. I’ve been looking forward to spending time with you again.”

Ciel put down the report. He wanted to respond that they would still be spending time together after he had wrapped up his business at Undertaker’s. However, when Elizabeth looked at him like that and said such things, it was difficult to refuse her.

“Very well,” he said with a sigh, and Elizabeth beamed before he had even finished speaking. “You can accompany me to Undertaker.”

***

Seeing Sebastian’s grin when he and Elizabeth had got in the carriage had put Ciel in a terrible mood, and it took a few minutes and multiple “Oh, look at this place, Ciel!” from Elizabeth to lighten him up again. Ciel asked Elizabeth to tell him one more time about her experiences from last year. At breakfast, he had still been in shock after hearing about Sneak Zucchini Day. Now, he was able to fully process what she was saying – though, frankly, he wished he did not have to – and his brain, very reluctantly, ran at full speed to think of a strategy. When they arrived at the funeral parlour, Ciel had still not been able to think of anything. His brain worked and worked, but it seemed blocked. He simply did not want to think of this silly day and tradition. Why did he have to endure this again? Ah, because of his grandparents, the Lincolns, and Sebastian.

When Ciel got off the carriage and helped Elizabeth out – Sebastian insisted; she was his fiancée after all, and he had to be a gentleman – his brain had something new to focus on: thinking of areas in a townhouse that can get very, very dirty and are extremely difficult to clean.

Like Ciel had thought, Elizabeth stood out like a sore thumb in the alley alone. She was all smiles and sunshine at his side. She pointed out some beautiful flowers growing out of the broken street for him when Sebastian went to knock on Undertaker’s door, and Ciel felt the corners of his mouth go slightly up, but only for a moment because the door opened a second later and they went inside.

“Hi hi…” it sounded from one of the numerous coffins propped messily against the walls, and Ciel sighed. It was one of thosedays again then.

“I’ve awaaaaaaited you, Earl.” A coffin opened and Undertaker stepped out of it. “Though I have not awaited Lady Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth curtsied to him. “Nice to meet you again, Undertaker.”

“Nice to meet you again too.” His reply, like most of his sentences, was followed by a laugh. Undertaker then walked to the back. “Please take a seat. It is a bit early, but let us have some tea. Hehe.”

Smiling and without question, Elizabeth sat down on one of the coffins that had been placed on the ground. Ciel looked at the coffins in disdain for a moment before Elizabeth took his hand and pulled him down to seat him next to her.

Undertaker returned a few minutes later with an actual tea service instead of the usual beakers. If he had not brought his usual urn-biscuit jar as well, Ciel would have told Sebastian to get this impostor here and there. Ciel wanted to ask Undertaker about the unusual change of dishes when Elizabeth exclaimed, “Oh, you still have the tea set I gifted you!”

Ciel stared at her. First, the revelation of the Zucchini Day, and now he learned that his fiancée apparently sent gifts to Undertaker? Of course, she would. But still.

“The Lady gave me this tea set,” Undertaker answered Ciel’s unspoken question while he poured tea in cups, “because the last time we met, we had tea at your townhouse, Earl. You were busy and could not see me immediately, so we talked and I commented that I did not usually drink or eat from such fine china. I got this gift a few weeks later in the post.” He smiled at Elizabeth as he handed her a cup of tea. “It is a treasure. Thanks,” he said with a chuckle.

“You’re welcome. I’m glad you like it.”

Ciel leaned towards Elizabeth. “How did you know his address?” he whispered.

“I asked Mother,” she whispered back.

“Would you like some biscuits, Lady Elizabeth?” Undertaker asked and held the urn-jar out to her at the same time as he stuffed a few biscuits into his own mouth.

“Sure. Thanks,” she said and took out one. Undertaker held the urn-jar out to Ciel who declined. He liked sweets, but he was not in the mood for Undertaker’s odd bone-shaped biscuits. “Bone-shaped biscuits for humans” like he called them. Ciel always wondered why Undertaker insisted on the “for humans” part. Were they actually not for humans and he wanted to hide this or…?

At least, Elizabeth seemed to enjoy and even praised them. Undertaker only responded with a “Heh, thanks, Lady Elizabeth” before he leaned back on his desk, biscuits in mouth, teacup precariously held in his hands.

“Now, Undertaker,” said Ciel, “about the reason why I am here…”

“Hehe, I know why you are here,” Undertaker replied and leaned back even more and was now almost half-lying on his desk. “You know what I want for paaaayment, hehe, Earl~”

Ciel tensed, having forgotten until now that Undertaker’s information was not paid for in coins but in laughter, and Elizabeth tilted her head in puzzlement. Usually, Ciel let Sebastian give Undertaker his payment, but if this turned out the way it had earlier…

Ciel braced himself and was about to say something when Undertaker continued, “Only there is nothing to pay for today, hehe.”

Ciel blinked at him.

“Undertaker, we have come here today because you said you had the information we needed,” Sebastian said.

Undertaker held out a finger. “No, I didn’t. I said that I would maybe have the information by today. It was an estimate. The bodies have still not been delivered to me. Apparently, the transporter changed and has a terrible sense of orientation… Went to another ‘Undertaker’s funeral parlour’… My name is surely popular.” He laid down on the desk and giggled.

Ciel pinched his nose. “So we have come here for nothing?”

“Oh, not for nothing, Earl. Didn’t I give you tea and biscuits?”

Ciel scowled at him. Then, in one fluid motion, the teacup still precariously held, Undertaker got up and sat down on his desk. He crossed his legs and propped his arm on them and held his head. “Also, Earl, if I remember correctly, it is that day today.”

Ciel groaned. “How do you know?”

He chuckled. “You are not the first Phantomhive I got to know, Earl. And you know how much I love all that is full of laughter… It’s been forty years now since the first time if I am correct…”

“Were you there then?” asked Elizabeth.

Undertaker smiled crookedly. “Maybe, I was. Maybe, I wasn’t.” He laughed. “Your father, Earl, would always tell me about what he and his sister did that day. Lady Francis was often there when he told me and was not amused that he shared it but they always had such fun stories… They usually just knocked, went inside, and hoped for the best; one distracts, one places the zucchini. Once, your father was chased by the Lincolns’ dog. He tried to climb over the fence, fell, and then lost consciousness. I wished I had seen that, hehe.”

“My predecessor did what?” said Ciel blankly.

“Never shied away from anything, your father. Made him such a fun person, hehe.” Undertaker grinned. “Promise that you will tell me about your Zucchini Days.”

“Absolutely not,” Ciel said at the same time as Elizabeth said, “If we can meet, of course.”

Undertaker laughed. “It’s your turn this time, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is,” Elizabeth replied. “Edward and I upheld the tradition last year – next time we meet I will tell you about it in detail! – and this time, it is Ciel’s and my turn.”

“Quite busy, aren’t you? What’s next year? The Earl and Lord Edward?” He took another biscuit. “There have never been that many of you before. Rotations, how entertaining.”

“We are not sure yet. We have to see if it works out like that next year.”

“I hope it does.” Undertaker put down his cup. It had, to Ciel’s surprise, survived the mortician’s constant erratic movements. “I hope today will be as fun as the last years, Earl.” He grinned. “The story of today will definitely pay for the information you came here for~”

***

“You don’t have to push yourself that much to think of something, Ciel,” Elizabeth said when they had returned to the townhouse and gone to sit in the drawing room.

Ciel blinked at her.

“You have been looking quite anguished for the carriage ride and you still do, and I said in your office that we could think of a plan.”

He nodded. “Right.”

“And you still haven’t said anything regarding a plan, so I guess you are thinking about it? We can both think of someone; it doesn’t have to be just you.”

“I know. It’s just…” Ciel sighed.

To his surprise, Elizabeth took his hand and looked sternly at him. “Today is supposed to be a fun day, Ciel. You are thinking too hard about this. Who is our opponent?”

“Aaron Lincoln.”

“And what do you think of him?”

“He is an obnoxious idiot,” Ciel said. It felt odd to say this out aloud to Elizabeth.

“Then why are you worrying so much about this?”

He looked at her.

She was right. Why was he worrying so much about someone like Aaron? Pondering so much about a day like Sneak Zucchini Day? Thinking so hard about a strategy when those before him had only waltzed into the Lincoln townhouse as a distraction while their partner placed the zucchini on the porch?

“Like Undertaker has told us,” Ciel said, straightening up, “we will split up: One will distract Aaron and anyone else inside the Lincoln townhouse. The other one will place the zucchini when the coast is clear. The one inside will give the one outside a sign to indicate that Aaron’s attention is fully elsewhere. The sign will be…” Ciel wanted to say that it would be delivered via Sebastian: that the one inside would give a sign, Sebastian would see it from the townhouse’s window and give a sign to the one outside. Only, that would not work as he and Elizabeth had to do this all alone; they couldn’t ask Sebastian to do even such a minor thing. Ciel took a deep breath and then began again, “Aaron may not be particularly intelligent, but he is persistent. He will be vigilant all day to catch whoever has been placing zucchinis on his family’s porch for forty years. A full distraction will likely only last a few minutes. The one inside will give a sign by a window. The other one will wait in the townhouse for the sign and have the zucchinis ready and…” He gulped. “… run outside and to the Lincolns’ porch to place the zucchinis and hurry back. It would be better to wait inside so that Aaron would not spot someone hiding in the bushes. I can put the zucchinis in place. Can you distract Aaron for five minutes, Lizzie?”

Elizabeth nodded. “I can.”

“So the Young Master wants his fiancée to be the distraction?” Sebastian said because, of course, he did. “I doubt that this is something a true gentleman would do.”

Ciel wanted to tell him that sneaking zucchini onto his neighbour’s porch was not something a true gentleman would do either, but he held himself back. Instead, he replied, “Still, this is the best course of action.”

“Is it? Young Master, if you have forgotten Lady Elizabeth is a young lady. It will be highly inappropriate for her to go to the Lincolns’ unannounced. She can do this here as she is your fiancée, but not anywhere else.”

Ciel gritted his teeth. “We can send a calling card.”

“What if they decline? A visit from Lady Elizabeth would also lead to raised eyebrows and heightened suspicions. A visit from their neighbour would be less suspicious, Young Master,” Sebastian said with a smile.

Ciel glared at him. “Very well. Lizzie, do you think you can run out of the townhouse, place the zucchinis, and run back in five minutes? I know your attire is not well-suited for something like this but…”

“No, I will be fine,” Elizabeth said and smiled, but she seemed oddly nervous.

“Are you sure?” Ciel asked, and Elizabeth nodded fiercely.

“Good.” He stood up. “Then let us go to the kitchen and see if we have enough zucchini before we start the mission.”

Elizabeth stood up too and followed him out of the parlour. “Mother told us that we need exactly twenty-two…”

***

Ciel took a deep breath and knocked on the door. He had expected to see Gisela, the Lincolns’ wicked housekeeper with the small evil eyes and the shrill voice and who defied every logic about ageing and longevity (Sebastian had already assured Ciel that she was not a supernatural being), but Aaron Lincoln himself opened the door instead. Today, he wore a green-red plaid suit as if it was Christmas and he was a Scotsman. Neither was the case. He had even paired this abomination with bright yellow shoes.

“Earl Phantomhive,” said Aaron. “I almost didn’t see you there.”

That was another reason why Ciel didn’t like Aaron. Ciel forced himself not to scowl or turn back. “Hello, Aaron. Curious that you opened the door,” said Ciel.

“I am on a mission, Earl,” Aaron replied and stepped out to look left and right with squinted eyes. “I’ve been waiting at the door since midnight. You see, since primaeval times, this place has been haunted by an odd zucchini infestation. Well, maybe ‘infestation’ is not the right word, but for ages, the word ‘silence’ has been written on our porch by an unknown hand every year. Tales have been spun around this event, and I am eager to uncover the truth! I will wait here until the culprit arrives and catch them red-handed!”

Ciel blinked at him. Did Aaron seriously believe he was the protagonist of some detective story? “What tales have been spun around this event?” he asked innocently, regretting having ever woken up today and hoping that his grandparents were happy that their descendants continued their ridiculous tradition.

Thankfully, Aaron did not think that Ciel’s presence or question was suspicious, so he told him about his grandmother’s idea of animate zucchinis or his own about alien lifeforms. While Aaron talked and talked, Ciel scrutinised him. He had said that he was up since midnight: dark rings were under his eyes, his usual loud speech was subdued, his eyelids fell closed every now and then and he would immediately tear them open. Aaron was very sleep-deprived; it should be easy to distract him.

After the alien theory, Aaron made a pause, and Ciel could finally speak. “Aaron, I want to know more about this odd event, but how about we go inside before you continue? Maybe if we stay in the threshold, whoever is putting the zucchinis on the porch will not appear.”

Aaron looked at Ciel. “Earl, you are right. We should go inside, come.” They went in, and Ciel sighed in relief when Aaron closed the door. Aaron had put a chair by the door, and besides a pair of opera glasses, there was nothing else here. For someone eager to hunt down the Zucchini Distributor, Aaron was painfully unprepared.

“You can sit on the chair, Earl,” Aaron said. “You are, after all, the guest.”

“Thank you,” Ciel replied and sat down.

“I do not mind standing,” Aaron continued. “It is good to stand and move around a bit. Keeping yourself active is essential for your health. Doing sports is essential for your health. Doing sports even helps people grow,” he said with a side-glance at Ciel.

Ciel cleared his throat. “Do you know what else people offer to guests except for seats?”

Aaron stared blankly at him.

Even mannerless Undertaker who is who-even-knows-how-old knows that, Ciel thought. “Something to drink.”

“Something to drink! Right, where are my manners?”

Where your intellect is.

Aaron called for a servant to bring them drinks; Ciel requested water. When the servants came with the drinks, Ciel’s plan started.

Self-righteous as he was, Aaron would keep standing. However, he could not refuse to drink with Ciel. It was good manners and good for health. Also, he kept talking about extra-terrestrials, dolls he swore moved overnight, and the ground opening up, vomiting out twenty-two zucchinis in “silence”-formation, and closing up again, etc. He needed to drink to keep his throat hydrated and be able to keep talking and talking.

Ciel, on the other hand, only had to nod now and then and ask questions to further Aaron’s torrent of words whenever it seemed as if he had problems to keep on going. He could sip a single glass of water for a long time without raising suspicions while Aaron burned through glass after glass. Ciel really struggled to hold back a grin.

And soon, Aaron would struggle to hold in something else.

Of course, Ciel still had to actually drink and empty and refill his glass, but the lower frequency and the fact that he was sitting made it easier for him to “hold it in.” Aaron who insisted on standing, who was now talking about star constellations and planets in the right – or maybe even wrong – order, and who was on his thirty-sixth glass of water did not have it as easy.

Any second now, Aaron had to excuse himself for a bathroom break. His anguished face did not lie.

Ciel counted until it was finally time. When Ciel arrived at twenty-seven and Aaron at something about twins and cake and bangs (Ciel was barely listening to his words as his headache was awful enough already; how were those things connected to zucchini anyway?), the time finally came. Aaron said the glorious words, “Excuse me, Earl, but I need to refresh myself very quickly.”

Ciel nodded, said politely, “Of course, take your time, Aaron,” and as soon as the idiot was out of sight, he got up from the chair and walked to the closest window that faced his own townhouse. The bathroom was not far from the entrance hall, and with Aaron on a mission to catch the mysterious Zucchini Distributor, he would be back again in no time.

From now on, everything had to go quick.

Ciel fumbled out the sheet of coloured paper from his pocket while he counted the seconds again. They had thought about using a mirror but ultimately decided that it was too noticeable. He held the sheet to the window and saw a movement at one of his townhouse’s windows. Elizabeth was on the move.

Ciel sat back down. He had never run from the townhouse to the Lincolns’ because he neither liked to run nor the Lincolns. Therefore, he had no idea how much time Elizabeth needed to get to the porch and escape afterwards.

Would Aaron return from his bathroom break before Elizabeth could sneak the zucchinis onto the porch?

Ciel hoped not and crossed his fingers for Elizabeth’s success. He didn’t want to cook up a Plan B or be the first failure in forty years of this nonsense.

Ciel had counted to 207 when he heard Aaron’s hurried stride. He reached 213 when Aaron reappeared next to him and put a hand on the doorknob.

Of course, he would want to check if he had missed anything while he was away. Ciel held his breath.

I hope he would not see Lizzie when he opens the door. I hope she was fast enough.

The door opened.

Aaron screamed.

Ciel rose from the chair, fearing the worst. Then, he realised that it had been a scream of frustration, not one of shock and followed by a perplexed “Lady Elizabeth?!”

He walked to the threshold, stood next to an annoyed Aaron.

“Silence” was written in twenty-two zucchinis on the porch.

There was no sight of Elizabeth

She did it.

A smile broke across Ciel’s face. Thankfully, Aaron was too focused on the zucchinis to notice.

Now, it was time for the last step: To say “Oh, no, it has happened right in front of our noses! I remembered that I still have a lot of paperwork to do, so I, unfortunately, cannot stay and help you figure this out. I am sorry for this, Aaron.” and leave in triumph.

Of course, it was never that simple.

To Ciel’s horror, Aaron then started to talk– about his frustration, about zucchinis, about all sorts of cucurbits.

Once, Aaron Lincoln had started to talk, there was no end until he wanted it to end. He would make you listen.

Aaron closed the front door again, and Ciel was trapped.

***

Elizabeth looked at the clock in the living room. She had successfully finished her part of the mission twenty minutes ago. Ciel should have long returned from the neighbours. Where was he? Aaron couldn’t have guessed that it had been their doing, could he?

Whatever happened, it made her restless.

She stood up and told Sebastian that she would go and look for Ciel. She had waited long enough. Ciel had participated in this tradition because of her, and she would not abandon him now.

With sure steps, Elizabeth went yet again to the Lincolns.

At their front door, the fruits of her “crime” to her feet, Elizabeth knocked on the door. Perhaps it was improper to visit without announcement, but as long as she had a good reason to come by without calling ahead first – like searching for her dear missing fiancé – it would be fine.

Hopefully, Gisela doesn’t open, she thought. That woman always made her shudder.

The door opened, and Aaron stood in front of her. He barely paid any attention to her as he was deep in a very one-sided conversation with Ciel who looked more and more uncomfortable and anguished with every word that came out of Aaron’s mouth. What was he even talking about? The Great Pumpkin and his second coming…?

“Mr Lincoln,” Elizabeth said. “Mr Lincoln.”

His talking was known to be unbreakable but he also put great value in etiquette – he could not possibly let a lady stand by his doorsill and ignore her. Also, Aaron looked quite tired today.

Aaron turned to her, and she hurried to speak before he could. “I am sorry to come by unannounced and bother you, but I have been looking for Ciel and…” Elizabeth looked at Ciel and feigned surprise. “Oh, there he is! Thank you, Mr Lincoln, you were a great help. I don’t want to disturb you any longer.” She took Ciel’s hand and dragged him away before Aaron’s exhausted brain could process what happened and respond to anything.

Elizabeth had to aide Ciel all the way to the Phantomhive townhouse. Aaron must have really exhausted him. When they returned, Sebastian helped to get Ciel first to the bathroom – she wondered why but didn’t ask – and then to the living room where he collapsed exhausted next to her on a sofa.

“We did it, Ciel,” Elizabeth said with a smile.

And then, in a rare moment, Ciel returned her smile with a lovely one of his own, and Elizabeth almost burst into tears of joy. “We did it, Lizzie,” he replied and promptly fell asleep. She took his hand. Despite everything, Ciel seemed to have enjoyed their day.

Holding his hand in hers, Elizabeth began to chuckle uncontrollably and was thankful that Ciel did not stir from it.

Her mother had told her that Zucchini Day, albeit it was ridiculous beyond words, had always been a day of great happiness and laughter. Ciel had been too tired to laugh but was now asleep with a smile on his face. That was enough for him. Next year, she hoped that he would laugh too.

Elizabeth squeezed his hand. Undertaker was right: It would be fun if Edward and Ciel would partner up for next year’s Zucchini Day. But she hoped that it could be Ciel and her together again.

Of Happy Coincidences and Fated Connections Chapter 1

Wew it’s been ages since I’ve written fanfiction.  This will probably suck but here I go.

I’m late because uni kills me sort of in any case I wanted to do something different so here’s day 1-7 prompts scattered throughout acts or chapters of this connected work.

This work will be separated in 7 acts and I decided to add in Diana’s mother and other moments as well, personally I’m not that great in depicting romantic moments, but I do like character introspections and studies so this work will have a bit of that as well as adding elements that while not cannon, they don’t break the cannon either because I believe the lack of specification of stuff in lwa world still allows for a lot more.

In any case I’m supposed to be done posting all the acts by Sunday at latest, because weekend will give me more time to finish up the remaining acts.

Act 2-5 is finished, but still need act 6 & 7 and to think I finished most of that last weekend but school kills me

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

Act 1

“There, There Diana, no more crying my little angel” Bernadette soothes Diana while caressing her hair.

Diana buries herself more into her mother’s neck as her body gently shakes from the barely contained crying session.

This continues a bit longer until little Diana’s sobs finally calms down, the soothing finally having worked.

Diana lifts her head from her mother’s neck and hair and looks at her mother with tear stained eyes and her voice comes out uneven “I’m s-sorry m-mother…….I’m sorry….” And she was just about to start crying again when her mother kisses her on her forehead and gives her a big hug while speaking words of comfort

“Diana…..darling….you are amazing and I am very proud of you”

Diana start shaking her head in disagreement, but stays quiet clinging on to her mom.

“Don’t worry about it my little angel, you will get your magic back and even if you don’t I will never love you any less, please know that” Bernadette announced while kissing atop Diana’s head.

Diana once again looks at her mom and is much more composed although her poofy red eyes tell the tale of how long she has cried.

“Mother, b-but I’m a Cavendish, I need to get my magic back….or else…”Diana pauses and closes her tiny fists a little tighter on her mother’s shirt.  

“or else nothing darling remember more than anything our family motto is affection and that’s regardless if someone has magic or not. On top of that we even have ancestors who were not magically inclined that went off to be amazing individuals, look at Andrew’s father”

Diana shifts away from her mom and gets a scowl on her face “Andrew is insufferable!”

“Diana……be nicer darling…” Bernadette chastises but Diana is determined to continue her point

“B-but I don’t want to be like them I love magic and I want to believe in being able to get my magic, because I don’t like how Andrew and his family views magic, I want the world to feel how lovely magic is! Like the kind that Chariot show made me feel…”

“My little angel has big dreams, doesn’t she?” and the mother reaches over to give her stubborn daughter a big hug and she remembers something when Diana mentioned Chariot’s show and proceeds to let go of Diana for a bit and to grab a book in her night drawer.

“Mother, what’s that?” Diana asks having an inquisitive look on her face.

So Bernadette tells Diana of the book she bought some days back at a store, she wanted to give Diana it, but she was worried about Diana’s deflated nature after not being able to perform magic, but hearing Diana’s concession of Chariot’s show being part of her inspiration for continuing to try to get her magic back, Bernadette thought it was fitting to introduce the story book that Chariot has a hand in writing and considering nothing is heard of chariot anymore, she wanted to cheer Diana up.

The picture book is actually as can be expected tales told through the zodiac signs and the constellations about life, ambition, striving for your dream, motivation, fate, romance and bunch of other stuff told in a lighthearted tone with cute art that can appeal to kids.

Diana had a twinkle in her eyes and so they began reading it together.

The introduction is very vibrant and colorful with an image of the 12 zodiac sign all separated in groups, 4 groups in specific. Air, Water, Earth & Fire.

In the top half of the left page of the book we had the Air Group that had the Gemini, Libra & Aquarius and you can see them animatedly talking with each other and cracking jokes with what appears to be social gathering.

On the bottom half of the left page we had the Fire Group that had the Aries, Leo & Sagittarius. They were in a heated race through rocky terrain and neither of them were backing down.

On the top half of the right page we had the Earth Group that had Taurus, Virgo & Capricorn. They were all in a study group occasionally commenting and helping each other.

Lastly on the bottom half of the right page we had the Water group that had Scorpio, Cancer & Pisces who were all staring at the starry sky lying next to each other on top of blankets and pointing at the night sky.

As we turn the page we get blue/black background with various flecks of stars in the sky and we get the first story.

Swimming against the Gigantic Stream of Life to find Your Place

There was once a tiny red fish that wanted to bring joy and happiness to all the sea creatures and possibly even land creatures out there so it learned how to do magnificent jumps and tricks and even learned the art of bubble making alongside becoming very resourceful with his fins, however the fish community thought it was unnatural. Fish are after all supposed to be in groups and be about community, individuality is not something strongly supported. Apart from that a red fish at best will only be considered as food and wouldn’t be taken seriously by the other sea creatures.

However Charon, our little fish was ready to prove the world wrong because despite being called a hopeless dreamer he deeply wants that everyone feels free and happy.

While his previous attempts have not gone the way he wanted them to he believes there has been a huge improvement and he recently caught the attention of Cetus, a renowned talent agent Whale.

And so his shows have gotten more traction and he will be at the biggest platform yet............

…….Through ups and downs and setbacks Charon has found the drive needed to search for his own place in this world and while his journey might’ve been long and arduous he has reached it because he worked for it and when he got sad or was close to giving up he would find something in his path that helps him along, for example the comforting words of Detty the crab or Delphy the wise Dolphin or even the Columba the Dove, each with them brought their own advice and support that helped pull out the inner fortitude that Charon possessed.

Life is made of pebbles or rocks even that hinder to flow of your river, but how you decide to overcome and surpass such an obstacle is where you really find yourself and the greatest strength hidden inside you……

“Mother……can we read the next one?” Diana asks with immense joy, while her face still held signs of having had a sad spell it isn’t quite as obvious as before and Diana’s gentle yet unabashed smile makes Bernadette very much happy.

“Of course dear” she passes her hand through Diana’s hair and shifts her to sit on her lap with Diana leaning against her chest and Diana re-positions the book and starts on the 2nd story.

“The Scales of dreams and reality” Diana spoke the title of the 2nd story.

Chris the libra isn’t very happy with the current situation. His kind have long been used as a means to find solace and comfort or to try to strive for their own balance. They take advantage of gnawing insecurity of the community and here we have the likes of Charon traveling in his mobile water tank stage eager to spread the way of love and peace to this world to counteract the bad.

Chris was supposed to be the most important high libra commissioner and work on the perfect way to enhance happiness and contentment for all and to think a side show accomplished it is an utter joke, Chris swears that everyone is delusional or something, but he can’t deny his curiosity has been peaked so he decides to finally properly see Charon’s show and perhaps maybe get an idea what the commotion and is all about……….

………Chris had tears coming from each side scale of his. How he could have been so foolish? He had a vision of what he wanted as if that is his dream that is entitled to him and no one else and he didn’t consider the work that had to be put in for that to actually achieve it, but having met Charon and gradually become friends with him and after he had gotten a bit more glimpse into the world and having traveled with Chummy the chameleon & Circi the compass Chris sees what he must do, right now he can’t think about what he doesn’t have or what he should have, but rather of his hard work, what he has right now and the work and people’s help he will need to work on getting closer to making his dream a reality and who knows perhaps in this journey he might even realize something else he wanted more, perhaps a path he never saw possible until now.

“Ok Diana dear, it’s getting late….” Bernadette announced as she gently took the book from Diana, closed and put on the drawer.

“But…..one more mother….please….” Diana tried to execute one of her best puppy dog eyes, but Bernadette would not relent.

“Diana…..” Bernadette said in a slightly amused but admonishing tone.

“Very well mother, but may I ask a question?” Diana asked hesitantly while still laying it on thick with the puppy dog eyes so it was inevitable what the reply would be.

“Of course dear, but only one. It’s getting late” Bernadette answered back with a ghost of a smile on her face. Her daughter’s curiosity has always been insatiable after all.

“Mom why do people use zodiac signs to tell stories, are what they tell about each sign really accurate?” Diana leans in close to her mom, eagerly awaiting her mom’s reply.

Bernadette closes her eyes a bit to think about the best way to answer this question and she remembers a particular moment some years back and the brief discussion with a certain spunky red haired moonlight witch.

“It’s already getting late, but how about one last story? I believe it will have a better answer for that question. Besides I do believe you would be interested in hearing it, it’s about the time I met Chariot, long before she became Shiny Chariot, interested?” Bernadette announces but she didn’t even have to wait that long for a response because Diana exuberantly blurted out

“Yes mother! Please do, I would love to and how did you meet her? How was she? And-”

Bernadette waved her hand as a means to silence Diana and to command attention “Ok little one, this happened a few years back, quite a bit before Shiny Chariot even graced the stage……”

It was a hectic day. Bernadette Cavendish has been called in to be one of the Judges for the Samhain festival. Mostly due to previous judge having cancelled last minute so Holbrooke called in a favor. While Bernadette was 1 year shy from having graduated from Luna Nova the misfortunate and bizarre capsizing of the ship that Daryl and Bernadette’s parents were in left the Cavendish without a leader and luckily or unluckily whichever way you prefer to view it,  a few months after their death was the Venusian Eclipse.

Strangely enough father was always the prepared man and left in the will that I would be the head of Cavendish house, despite Daryl’s seniority over me, which did even less wonders in closing the chasm of differences and tension between my sister and I.

In any case perhaps it’s being back in Luna Nova that gives me such nostalgia.

I saw a wonderful and surprising performance from the surprise witch that came out of practically nowhere in the crowd’s general opinion and stole the show, literally by the display of transformation and showmanship magic, it filled my heart with so much joy and wonder and made me call back to the uncomplicated love and fascination I used to exude when I was younger, sadly things in later life often become a habit or obligation and the true magic fades away a bit, but this reignited it a bit.

I had stayed and took a bit to drink, not too much given my weak constitution but even that was too much it would seem as I felt woozy and weak, Holbrooke immediately assigned me to the nurse and a room to stay the night, seeing the time it would be much too late to travel back in my condition anyway.

I conceded and went to rest. However I only slept a bit and when I woke up, it was still much too early as I saw the clock read a bit past 5 am. I was restless though and decided to take a walk. On the plus side muscle memory is truly a wonderful thing you realize all over again in these instances, while it has been a few turbulent and trying years adjusting to being head of the Cavendish at 17, meeting my husband, delivering a beautiful baby girl, becoming a widow all too quickly and having most likely a limited amount of time still left to see my baby grow up, my body and mind instinctively remember all the twists, turns, nook and crannies. It’s actually nearing a more open space though that I halt because I see two figures in the courtyard. They are sitting on the bench talking although their proximity to each other seems to suggest they are fairly close.

One of them stands up and twirls around and I notice it immediately, the long white robe and the white hat with the horns on the side, that’s the engaging and energetic red haired moon light witch from earlier today, well yesterday now technically.

She seems to be fairly happy as she lets out another performance in front of a- from what I can tell- purple haired girl.  

Of course this draws the attention of a shadow nearby on the opposite side of the courtyard and they run to hide, as do I.

How silly though, I always helped patrol back then and I’m an adult now, I have no reason to hide, but I have to admit it’s probably being back in this school, takes me back.

After the coast was clear and the patrol went the other direction the two girls came out and I moved closer so I can hear them talking, I can’t help but feel wrong about this, but something about the moonlight witch this year and the feeling her performance awoke in me after a long time made me curious to know more about her.

I was still too much out of ear shot to hear anything clearly, but seeing by the red haired ones flustered state I would say she was just teased and the purple haired one proceeds to give the moonlight witch a hug which in turn she greedily accepts and the hug lasts for quite a bit longer than platonic hug time constitutes, but perhaps I’m out of the loop with teenagers nowadays as to what constitutes the normal length for those.

The red haired girl is sulking now and I feel compelled to go to her, but she abruptly jumps up from her seated position on the stone bench and conjures up a constellation chart, this is highly impressive and clearly she has an affinity for astrology to conjure up something to this extent.

She seems to be pulling up two signs in particular a libra and a pisces.

Curious.

As I move to go a bit closer but still trying to not arouse suspicion I step on branch and she notices me and immediately jumps.  

“I’m sorry, please don’t give me detention, I just got out of a one month scrubbing the toilets a month ago, I would prefer to not have to repeat that again.” she eyed me pleadingly while having her hands clasped together in front of her face hoping I don’t reprimand.

I start laughing. This completely catches her off-guard.

“Rest assured little moon light witch I truly am not here to punish you, I’ll have you know I’m sneaking about as well” Bernadette answered good naturedly while extending her hand to greet the girl “ Bernadette Cavendish, pleasure to meet you acquaintance that was a lovely performance you put on I was quite enchanted with it”

Chariot’s eyes visibly widen and then she enthusiastically starts shaking Bernadette’s hands “Ahh my name is Chariot du Nord, nice to meet you. A pleasure to meet the head of the Cavendish family, you were one of the judges right? Thank you for liking the show I’m glad to hear that and ….”

Bernadette notices the girl is quite chipper and just keeps rambling on excitedly, (what an energetic and charismatic girl).

“Miss Cavendish…..” chariot waves her hands in front of her face and Bernadette jumps back a bit “Ahh… I’m sorry I didn’t mean to surprise you, I was just wondering what you were still doing at Luna Nova since I’m aware most judges or spectators tend to leave after, but you were staring off so I wasn’t sure if you heard me, sorry for rambling, I’m still a bit giddy about winning as moon light witch and all…..” she trails off while sheepishly putting her fingers together while fidgeting.

Bernadette smiled “Ooh don’t worry it’s quite alright and very much understandable I remember being moonlight witch my first year in Luna Nova it’s a wonderful feeling so completely understandable. Also to answer your question, I was feeling a bit under the weather after due to my weak constitution, but I’m feeling a lot better now. I would like to ask you the same thing though you were practicing some magnificent astrology magic there is there any specific reason now? Since it’s already becoming lighter outside after all, it would be more useful at a darker time.”

Chariot’s face blushes beat red “a-ah….well you see I…..” she doesn’t quite know what to answer so I decide to tease a bit suspecting a more than platonic inkling from the purple haired girl and chariot. It’s an all-girls school after all so those kind of relationships are hardly a surprise, even though romantically speaking I’m more inclined to males myself, I did have quite a few friends that dabbled in that and that’s fine by me, you never know who ends up taking your fancy.

“Could it have anything to do with the libra and piscis signs?”

Chariot’s mouth as agape and she appears to open her mouth to speak however I decided to go for the overkill.

“or was it perhaps connected to the purple haired girl that left earlier?”

And there it was the deer caught in the head lights look. Ah, perhaps I did go too far.

“I’m sorry if I’m prying too much….”

“No, no, it’s just ….uhm….ok….so….I was wondering about the zodiac signs and what they meant and what they actually mean for each person like do they accurately predict someone’s fate or personality or are compatibility between signs a certain thing or what can you do to guarantee a lasting bond…..I’m just a bit conflicted right now and sorry again for rambling……” Chariot was fidgeting and she didn’t even once look up from the ground.

“I don’t believe on certain are absolutely accurate, I’m unsure of why you pulled up specifically a libra and a pisces but I’m assuming it might have to do with your purple haired friend, but seeing as it makes you uncomfortable I will not comment further although keep in mind that nothing changes, develops or maintains unless of your consistent and hard effort to work on it. Whether it’s a lasting bond with this girl or it’s your dreams, because after all one imagines their dreams, but reality is what becomes of your hard earned effort to achieve your goals and perhaps it’s not the same as your dream initially was, but the growth that has overcome you in that time and the end point that you have reached might be exactly what you needed as oppose to what you initially wanted. Life is filled with inconsistencies and forking roads so as long as you’re doing your best and constantly striving for the best version of yourself, I believe it will work out.” Bernadette approaches the girl and put a hand on Chariot and smiles.

“Concerning the zodiac signs I don’t believe they are wrong as guides, because people have faith in various things that keeps them going or that inspires and astrology is an old craft that has been used for many years, you should neither revere it as perfect guide or tool nor dismiss it as too irregular. Rather take with it what you will and let it inspire you then do something with that inspiration to make your desires a reality. I’m sorry I’m afraid I’m the one that talked too long this time” Bernadette smiled apologetically while taking her arms off of Chariot’s shoulder.

Chariot proceeds to hug Bernadette. Bernadette is caught off guard.

“-thank you” was the muffled reply of Chariot and she pulled away quickly after “I’m sorry for the sudden hug”

“No, no it’s fine, surprising but pleasant nonetheless. Tell me chariot what makes you fascinated in astrology?”

“The possibilities and also I want to understand all the various zodiac signs and harmony between them because I want to understand how to make as many people as possible happy. I want to perform with zodiac sign animals and various other transformation magic because I believe the wonder and joy of seeing these creatures can be stronger than disagreements or dispute between human beings, it’s something more universal at least in my eyes. At least that’s just a sentiment of mine, but I’m aware how silly my dream may seem to some…..even so! I have to try” Chariot while slightly hesitant she had a certain spark inher eyes I couldn’t help but admire. She was rocking on the ball of her foot awaiting my reply.

“It is an awfully ambitious dream, your determination reminds me of my little daughter, Diana. So driven and hard-working for a 4 year old” Bernadette smiles fondly thinking of her little girl “That said I believe your intentions aren’t wrong, but remember strive for your own happiness before you worry for others or the world.”

Chariot smiles. “Ok I will work on it”

“Headmistress Holbrooke I believe I saw someone in the courtyard.” Can be heard faraway in booming voice. One of the fearie patrols no doubt from earlier.

Chariot looks anxious at me I tell her to go back to her dorm I will intercept them. She mouths thank you and storms back to her dorm.

“Hello headmistress Holbrooke. Good morning, and sorry for walking around and giving the patrol trouble”

“Ooh my, Bernadette I wasn’t expecting you up so early! Good Morning and no don’t worry”

The fearie patrol started saying he swear he saw someone, but Bernadette says she might’ve caught a glimpse of something but it was too dark to identify and so the matter was laid to rest. 

“Ok Diana to bed young lady” Bernadette motioned for Diana to get off the bed.

Diana doesn’t budge. “Mother about the meanings and bonds do you believe they might be true if you want them to be?”

“Is this about the story book? Or something else?” it would seem there is something Bernadette is missing from this story.

“Something else, mother remember when we got separated after the chariot show?”

Of course I did. I had a particular bad fainting spell after the show while we were walking away from the crowd and I got separated from Diana I was terrified before I blacked out, the trip in particular had been exhausting. Luckily I did have Anne and another butler with me Anne stayed with me while Joseph, the butler went to search for Diana. Did something bad happen that Diana didn’t tell her about, Diana saw her mother’s distressed face and put her tiny hand on top of her mother

“Don’t worry mom nothing bad happened, I promise.”

Bernadette visibly relaxed.

“You see when I got lost and swept along the crowd I met another little girl, she had brown hair and was also separated from her parents because of the crowd. I thought we should continue waiting and she wanted to keep on moving to find them we kept arguing but when we noticed some people kept on staring we went into the crowd in search of either one of our parents but then an old lady from one of the stands called out to us, she was a bit creepy-”

“Diana I thought you told me nothing-”

“Let me finish, please mother” Diana pouted.

“Very well, I will not comment until the end” Bernadette relented.

“So she ended up being a magical astronomer or the ones that tell fortune. I thought would be best to move away from her but the little girl decided it would be cool so we went closer. I told her we had no money on us, but she said this one was free of charge and conjured up our zodiac cards along with a card about our bond or something saying we will have a lifelong bond or something. It was then we decided to keep searching and the little girl had a few dollars in her pockets and we both got one cotton candy to share and we decided to go closer to where the stand was for the show now that there were less people. It was in the process of walking there that the brown haired girl said to exchange the card about our zodiac sign and if the life long bond fortune is right we’ll meet again and exchange it back I was going to say I don’t live there so the chance of meeting again is not very likely but she handed me her card and I felt inclined to give her mine it was then that Joseph made it through the people still around there and the same time the girl’s mother showed up and pulled her away. Wait let me go get the card mother.” And the young Cavendish girl dashes to her room and comes back after a bit and eagerly shows me the cancer zodiac sign from the girl diana exchanged and I was shocked to notice the card that Diana got.

That’s curious.

Years Ago at a random festival.

“Bernadette let’s get out of here, this place is bogus!” Daryl came out huffing. The old lady comes outside and announces my sister forgot to pay, so I paid her part. The old lady grabs my arm and says she want to do a reading for me for free. I told her I’m not particularly interested in these things she asks please and I decide to humor her. She pulls a few different cards, but one particular that she tells me is the one that looks like the one that Diana got and she even has her insignia because she told me about it at the end.

“Diana dear, did you catch the little girl’s name?”

“Uhm no” Diana has a very embarrassed expression “I forgot to introduce mine as well, her English was a bit hard to understand as well and I was being dragged most of the time we barely had any time to catch our breaths……”Diana seemed a bit put-off by being reminded of that.

How unusual to have Diana so out of her element, that’s so unlike her so I started chuckling.

“Mother….why are you laughing” Diana was baffled and a bit annoyed.

“There, there darling I’m sure you will meet this person again, she clearly made an impression on you and sounds like this person might’ve been the same person your mommy met some time back”

Diana was surprised. “Did her predictions for you come true then mother?”

“Some of them did or actually I should say the ones that truly matter did and that’s all that counts in my eyes. Like having my beautiful daughter filled with ambition and endless curiosity that is still awake past her curfew. Now let me take you to your room darling no more time for stories I’m afraid, straight to bed.”

“But-”

“No buts Diana. Rest assured though I will be beside you till you fall asleep.”

Diana got out of bed and gently tugged my hand and I went back to her room and tucked her in. Bernadette kept petting her hair and before she drifted off to sleep she mumbled ‘I love you mother’. Bernadette said ‘I love you too my little angel’.

One last thought entered Bernadette’s head. That card that was given to Diana was the same one that she was given moments before she met Richard, her now deceased ex-husband. The card did not strictly refer to lovers although it was the more common connotation. She decided she didn’t mind either one to be fair. She’s aware she won’t be able to see Diana grow up into an adult and this small comfort that Diana might have someone that cares for her as much as Richard cared for her calms her somewhat and despite how many more years she wished she had with Richard she appreciates the time they did have.

Stars don’t dictate all or sometimes even not much at all, but completely underestimating the lucky coincidences and the unusual way fate tends to work seems foolhardy.

Bernadette gives her daughter a kiss on the top of her head and closes the door, only leaving a small night light to leave the room with a bit of brightness while her little angel slumbers.

She grabs the cancer card and other card given to Diana. Very curious indeed.

She wishes she could meet this little girl that already has the power to drag around her strong-willed daughter, but she supposes just like she told chariot as long as she works hard she could do it, after all her becoming a tree like all the other Cavendish head of house is a given, she would like a nice open field if she’s honest, but right now she wants to live for as much as she can, she will worry about being able to catch a glimpse of this energetic girl later in whichever form she might be, after all working hard and affection are two things that come best to her. She’s a proud Cavendish after all.

Lazy Sunday afternoon cuddly Cat and Kara (Carter's with his father or on a field trip or sleepover).

Lazy afternoons were not something either Cat or Kara were particularly familiar with. Cat, between her son and her company, was rarely able to spend more than a few minutes not focusing on something specific. And Kara, though she didn’t have a child or multinational company, did have her superhero duties that kept her busy. So for either of them to have a day off, let alone both of them, was something that only rarely managed to happen.

After the first time, they settled into a comfortable rhythm for the days they managed to spend more than a few uninterrupted hours in each other’s company. If Carter was with Cat that day, they would spend the day out doing something with him, or stay in and spend time playing board games to pass the time. Kara was always careful to keep him from feeling excluded, always wary of the fact that she was encroaching on a space that had been his and his alone for several years now.

On the days they were alone, their time together often contained nothing more than quiet hours spent curled around each other, catching up on the areas of their lives that they didn’t share. It was something Cat had never expected to find in a relationship, something that even a few short months ago she would never have considered worth her time. She hadn’t built a company by sitting around doing nothing. She was always on the move, always pushing herself or others to be better, to work harder. That had been the true secret of her success, knowing that in order to succeed she could never stop moving forward.

But sitting with Kara never seemed to be time wasted. It was something soothing for them both, a way of unwinding from the stresses of their lives and taking time to get to know each other. After years of working together, and months of a deepening friendship once Kara had come clean about her identity, they’d begun to grow even closer until they were dating almost without realizing it.

Once they had realized it, there had been a week or two of awkwardness as Cat struggled to place that knowledge into her view of the world, dealing with the fact that she’d somehow begun to develop romantic feelings for an employee. It’s a cliche she’d worked so hard to avoid, always afraid that any such relationship would be too unequal to be successful.

But with Kara, there was none of that. What there was, they discussed and handled once Cat dealt with her emotions about the whole thing. And while they were still careful to keep their distance between the personal and work, in their personal lives there wasn’t any reason to keep their distance. Kara had just as much power, even if it were in a different manner than the power Cat held. They weren’t equals, not in the traditional sense of the world. But they complemented each other well, each building on the other’s strengths. They were balanced, and that worked for them. They could never completely understand the challenges and struggles of the other’s life, but they didn’t have to. They could be there and support one another through them, offer a shoulder to lean on.

That was where they were today, with Cat complaining about some board member or another as Kara held her close, letting her get the frustrations out without saying a word, understanding without Cat saying anything that she needed this. She needed to vent, needed to call the man all sorts of names that would make a sailor blush.

And when she finished, Cat needed Kara to pull her even closer, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of her head. Cat’s willingness to put up with something so soft wouldn’t last long, she still had her image to protect and was always wary of letting it slip too far, lest she be unable to regain it later on. But in moments like this, the calm moments where they were wrapped up in each other with no one around, Cat would let herself go, let herself soften.

“Do you want me to throw him into space?” Kara asks when she’s sure Cat has finished her rant, smiling when she feels Cat’s silent laughter. They both know it wouldn’t happen, that Kara is too much the hero to ever do something like that, but at the same time it’s tempting to take her off on it.

“He’s not worth the effort to fly him that far,” Cat says when she calms, shaking her head and finally relaxing completely into Kara’s embrace. “Besides, you always manage to make me feel better without the need to resort to violence.”

“Just another one of my powers,” Kara says with a smile, grateful that they’ve come far enough that she can be this to Cat, that she can give the woman the support she needs to feel better after a stressful day. “But if I need to do something else, like spill his coffee, that I can do.”

Cat pauses at that one, genuinely considering the offer. The man in question has been insufferable lately, making pointed comments that set Cat’s blood to boiling, clearly feeling somehow in his position, as if Cat hadn’t had another board member fired and arrested not even two years ago. For whatever reason, memories faded fast, and most members had forgotten who held all the power. Kara was already on the lookout for another takeover attempt, not trusting the way this man seemed far too confident in his smug comments, or the relative quiet from the rest of the board. But this is supposed to be their quiet evening, and Kara can already feel Cat tensing back up as her mind begins to run through the possibilities of what they might be planning.

“What do you say we try that new chicken dish tonight?” Kara says when Cat seems to go from considering the coffee offer to thinking of far more than that, knowing that they need to change the subject before the rest of the afternoon is lost to plotting and planning. “We haven’t had a chance to cook together lately.”

“Don’t tell me that means you’ve been once again surviving on takeout,” Cat groans, covering her face when all Kara offers is a wry shrug. “I know you’re an invulnerable alien who doesn’t have to worry about calories like the rest of the planet, but that doesn’t mean that stuff is healthy for you, Kara.”

“True, but it tastes good,” Kara says, knowing without looking that Cat is rolling her eyes. “But just for you, I’ll eat a salad tonight too.”

It’s not much as concessions go, Kara is more than willing to eat just about anything put in front of her, but she can tell it appeases Cat. And more than that, this discussion has driven the board from her mind, and Kara can feel the way Cat relaxes back into her hold.

She’s still tense, but Kara has a solution for that. She’d spent years learning to temper her strength, and learning the exact amount of force she could exert without hurting someone had the unexpected side effect of giving her an immense level of skill when it came to massage. She’d had to read up on tips and techniques to make sure she understood what she was doing, but Cat had always been a willing recipient of her training attempts. And by now, Kara knows exactly how to touch Cat to help her unwind.

“Mm, that feels good,” Cat says when Kara starts moving her hands over the knots she can feel in Cat’s back, shifting on the couch so that Kara has better access. “I didn’t realize tonight was a pampering night.”

“Every nights is a pampering night if you need it,” Kara says with a soft smile, leaning forward to place a soft kiss to the side of Cat’s head without pausing the movement of her hands. “I like taking care of you.”

Cat makes a little pleased noise at that, and Kara smiles to herself. She loves making Cat happy. She would do whatever it takes to accomplish that, without hesitation or question. and knowing that often all she needs to do is be present, that’s something that makes Kara happier than almost anything else ever could.

“I love you,” Kara adds after a moment, still loving that she’s able to say that to this woman. It isn’t the first time she has, but it’s still new enough that she’s careful to only say it when they’re in the middle of a moment like this, when things are soft and quiet between them, when the truth of the words won’t be overwhelming because they’re already surrounded by the emotion behind them.

“I love you too,” Cat answers softly, leaning back into Kara’s arms and ending the massage. “I never thought I would have this.”

“I didn’t either,” Kara admits, wrapping her arms around Cat and pulling her close until Cat’s back is nestled against her front, resting her head on Cat’s shoulder as they sit quietly. “But I’m glad we do.”

Cat nods, not saying a word, and they sit there for a few moments longer just enjoying the evening and each other, watching the sunset through the window.

Moonlight Escape at Adarlan University [Celaena x Rowan magical AU]

So... this is what i’ve been dreaming up while working on PSaOE :) I’ve been thinking of writing a Celaena x Rowan modern AU fic set in a magical/futuristic world. it’s just bulletpoints right now, but here’s a drabble that may or may not be featured in the future story, or I may pull some parts out and work them around. It’s probably slightly OOC, I don’t know, I wrote it for fun and to be more casual so pls don’t take it too seriously~

Sorry if there are some mistakes; haven’t looked it over too carefully since it’s somewhat of a drabble! Feel free to leave feedback if you liked it/want to read more like it :D

Word Count: 2630 [ read on fanfiction ] | [ read on ao3 ]

It was nearly midnight on a Sunday, and she couldn't fall sleep. Celaena Sardothien growled as she leapt up from where she had been slouched on her lush satin bed, and she paced the floor restlessly. She was in her dormitory room at the prestigious Adarlan University of Magic and Research, and she had had a particularly rough day.

She hadn't woken up feeling like the day was going to be shit. Everything had started off fine; she had gotten crepes for breakfast with Elide, lounged around procrastinating for a bit, and then finally gathered her notebooks and books to study in the sprawling campus library.

There, she had run into Rowan-rutting-Whitethorn, a gods-damned know-it-all and an arrogant fucking prick. He was just a third-year student but he was a teaching assistant for one of her first-year magic courses, and he acted like he was above all the rest of them. At the library, he had caught her idly doodling on a library book and arrogantly reminded her that she was damaging school property. And she basically told him to fuck off and not talk to her until he had removed the stick up his arse.

Rowan was a teaching assistant for the beginner magic course, Laws and Limiters of Magic. He was from the reputable Whitethorn household in the country of Wendlyn, so he had been trained in magic since he was old enough to read and write, even after his parents had been murdered. The Whitethorn house had served Queen Maeve faithfully for many years, and perhaps Rowan had appeared particularly gifted because she recruited him into her service when he turned 16, and he, of course, had accepted with honor.

Rowan had lived at his Uncle's estate with many of his other cousins and wanted to escape his often-insufferable family for a while, so he requested Maeve to give him a research mission in Adarlan while he enrolled at Adarlan University.

Queen Maeve didn't say anything at first as she considered his request. This might be a good way for her to keep an eye on the happenings across the ocean... She agreed to send him, as well as Lorcan and Fenrys, to enroll at Adarlan University. She also mentioned offhandedly that her niece Aelin Galathynius may also attend the university in the future.

Rowan recalled a conversation he had with Maeve. "When she arrives… Make sure she doesn't get into any trouble, will you?" Maeve's violet eyes flickered to Rowan's face, who was kneeling on one knee in the center of the room.

She drifted over to inspect one of the many poisonous and rare plants she was cultivating in the throne room. "She doesn't look anything like me. You'll know her when you see her. Those teal and… gold eyes. Ashryver eyes, like her mother's." Maeve waved her pale hand dismissively.

Bright turquoise irises and rings of gold around the pupils. Until recently, it hadn't clicked that Celaena Sardothien and Aelin Galathynius were the same person.

Perhaps he was annoyed that she was going by a different name, tricking people into believing she was someone she was not. In the hushed library, he had revealed to her how he worked for Queen Maeve, like it was supposed to scare her into submission or awe or something. And he acted like Celaena, even though she was a blood relative to Maeve, was beneath him because he had been recruited to work for the bitch-queen of Wendlyn and she hadn't.

Celaena's perfectly arched eyebrows raised higher and higher, and after he was done with his little tirade, she just snorted and drummed her fingers on the table. Her mother, Evalin Galathynius, had cut contact from Maeve before Celaena had been born. So she had never met Maeve, and she vaguely remembered her mother saying something about how Maeve used people to get what they want.

In fact, she went by Celaena Sardothien and not her real name anymore, because people often tried to get close to her, either to take advantage or curry favor with her, to try to gain access to Queen Maeve. But it turned out that even using a different name wasn't enough to avoid people like Rowan, who thought the gods-damned sun shone out of that woman's arse.

She stopped drumming her fingers and leaned forward to sneer at him. "I pity you for being bound to someone else's will and for being a brainless soldier playing an arrogant student. You don't know anything about me, Rowan Whitethorn, and you can't scare me by being a kiss-ass."

Rowan's checked anger had slipped at that, and a small gust of wind picked up. Students nearby began shifting uneasily. Nevertheless, Celaena had thrown her own defenses up. She never turned down an excuse to brawl.

Both of their magical energies elevated enough that they were scolded and thrown out of the library soon after. Celaena had been docile and cordial, blaming Rowan for instigating the fight. Rowan had acted ever the gentleman, bowing his head and promising it wouldn't happen again. The library woman on duty agreed to let them go as it was their first offense and as long as it didn't happen again.  

Celaena simpered sweetly at Rowan when she heard that, and they parted ways outside the library without further incident. She loved books, and a quickie brawl with Rowan certainly wasn't worth getting banned from the library. But she didn't get any studying down after their run-in. Instead, she went for a run outside and trained at the gym until she worked off some of her pent-up energy.

And then wasted time up until now. She had to get up early for morning classes, too.

Dammit. Damn it all. Celaena was still pacing in her dorm room, which was quickly becoming too small to contain her rising fury as she continued to think about what had happened earlier. She needed to do something, or she was going to break everything –

A glass of water exploded on her nightstand, and Celaena nearly screamed in frustration, but she worked on calming herself down. She didn't bother with the glass shards strewn all over the nightstand and ground. Instead, she focused on her breathing and cast her mind to find a goal for her to focus on, to keep her mind occupied. To keep her vast magic from slipping the leashes and going out of control, and setting fire to the gods-damned drapes again.

Celaena pulled on a black zip-up hoodie over her turquoise V-neck and combat boots over her distressed jeans. Maybe a walk would help clear her mind. She looped her blonde hair into a loose bun atop her head.

Her fingers brushed against something in her hoodie's pocket, and she fished her handheld device out and stared at it for a second before casually tossing it onto the bed and walking out. She didn't want to talk to anyone, and she didn't want anyone to find her. She silently slipped out of her room and down a back stairwell to exit the building.

As soon as Celaena felt the cool, fall breeze sweep over her face, she sighed in relief. The leaves were starting to turn autumnal hues, and the weather had started to turn chilly. She began walking with no destination in mind but ended up in front of the ancient music building. The wind hummed and leaves rustled as she stared up at the intricate columns.

Well, she might as well go in. It was unlikely anyone would be here past midnight on a Sunday. She reached into her pocket to grab her –

Dammit. She had left her handheld, which doubled as her ID, in her room. Not that it mattered too much. She shoved her hand into her back pocket and pulled out a flat device, shaped like a card. She pressed a button and the screen flickered to life, scanning her face to unlock the facial recognition screen. As soon as the device recognized her as the owner, it unlocked and revealed a menu with several settings.

Squinting, Celaena peered at the bright screen and modified a couple options before holding the device up to the electronic scanner on the front doors. The scanner beeped in recognition and flashed green, allowing her to haul the doors open and slip in.

She wandered down the lonely halls, the sound of her boots reverberating off the walls. On impulse, she peered into a dark room at the end of a hallway, slipped inside, and flicked on the light.

It was a small practice room, with a piano, a piano bench, and a music stand. There was a stool tucked in one corner and scattered sheet music was stacked haphazardly on a narrow bookshelf. Celaena sighed and dropped her hoodie on the floor.

She briefly adjusted her seating on the piano bench and then began warming up on the keys with scales. Celaena noted that the keys were mostly in tune, and she took a few minutes to learn the piano, to learn the shape and sound of its keys before she really began to play. The music and her anguish twined together, flooding the room with sound and pure emotion.

She played the lullaby her mother used to sing her. Then a few of the bittersweet songs of the people. And then the ballad she had composed when she was 15, in honor of her friend Nehemia who had died long ago in a freak accident. Celaena had never understood why the gods hadn't taken her as well, back then.

She played continuously for twenty minutes before finally pausing to take a break. Sweat dripped down her face from the effort, and the tears that had streamed down her face earlier had already dried. She moved her hand to brush stray strands of hair from her face –

Somebody coughed intentionally behind her.

Celaena jumped, slamming her hands down. The keys rang out in discord, and the wind of her movement sent some of the pages stacked on top of the piano fluttering down. She hastily wiped the mascara tracks from her cheeks and whirled around.

"Are you spying on me?" she accused, embarrassment creeping up her cheeks as she realized she had been so lost in her music that she hadn't noticed gods-damned Rowan had been standing there for gods know how long. She hurriedly began gathering the fallen pages up to keep her hands busy. Rowan bent down to pick up a page that had landed near him and she snatched it from him, smoothing it out and adding it neatly to the stack.

Rowan had silver hair that nearly reached his broad shoulders, and he was wearing a simple, black v-neck. A wicked tattoo curved up his neck and creeped up the side of his jaw. He shrugged nonchalantly, but his green eyes were unfathomable as he watched her. "No, I just happened to be walking by."

Celaena's turquoise and gold-rimmed eyes narrowed as she snorted, trying to keep the mortification from her face.

"You just happened to be walking by the music building? Oh yeah, I forgot about all of the music classes you take," she drawled and pursed her lips at him.

Rowan couldn't help but chuckle at her dripping sarcasm and how fast she had caught him in his lie. "Okay, you're right. I just wanted to… make sure everything was all right after earlier." His gaze pinned hers, as if he could read the answers directly from her face.

Celaena narrowed her eyes at him and schooled her face into a smooth, emotionless expression. She didn't know what magical powers he was keeping secret, so she double- and triple-checked her mind's barrier. She blinked at him.

"I'm fine. And even if I wasn't, it would be none of your business," she replied coolly.

"That's –" Rowan inhaled sharply through his nose and then exhaled. "I've been harsh on you. And I… said some things I didn't entirely mean."

"I don't expect any special treatment," she snapped. What was his problem? After what happened earlier in the library, now he was following her around like a lost puppy? Celaena could feel a headache coming on from the mental whiplash.

"But still… I should have been more understanding," he admitted. Celaena just stared at him as if she were weighing his words.

"As far as you know, I'm just another, first-year student that goes to Adarlan University. Young. Hopeful. Uninteresting." Her sharp, perceptive eyes bored into his as she enunciated every word with a clipped tone. "I don't care what you do outside of school or whose employment you've weaseled your way into, as long as you stay out of my business. And as far as Maeve goes, I've never known my Aunt Maeve, and I don't care to know her," she ground out, defiance burning in her eyes. She was honestly considering punching him right in the nose if he was stupid enough to challenge her.

Rowan held his hands up palms facing her, trying to pacify her aggression. "I'm not – I wasn't trying to convince you to or anything. I just wanted," he took a deep breath, "I just wanted to say that I'm here if you wanted to talk about it. I know what it's like to have… family troubles."

Celaena just blinked and raised her eyebrows at him in disbelief. She rolled her eyes up at the ceiling and sighed. "Thanks. That's nice of you, but I don't want to talk about it. Goodnight."

With that, she grabbed her hoodie from where she had dropped it on the floor earlier and tried to storm out. Unfortunately, Rowan was still in the doorway. He moved to fully block her exit and her anger nearly snapped then, but she inhaled through her nose and waited.

"Get out of my way," she hissed through her teeth.

"You don't want to talk about it with me, or with anyone?" Rowan asked seriously. His pine-green eyes were scanning her face, assessing her near-feral expression, and she idly noticed how long his dark eyelashes were. The question caught her off-guard, and the rage on her face smoothed out somewhat as she considered.

"You, maybe, or with – with anyone, I suppose." Celaena placed a hand on her hip and surveyed him. She did have Elide, but they hadn't talked about… this. About what Celaena suspected, with her aunt. "Are you going to move?"

Rowan turned to the side and Celaena breezed past him without another word. She didn't care about him. She didn't care about his stupid, piercing green eyes, or about that wicked tattoo winding its way up his neck. She had dropped her guard earlier, sinking into her music to escape, but her escapade tonight had only led her to feel more confused about everything that had happened.

Rowan could only think about that burning pain he had seen in her beautiful eyes, after she had whipped around to face him. Her eyes had flickered with hurt before she carefully smoothed out her expression. He watched her stalk away from him and didn't try to follow this time. He had a feeling she wouldn't let him go without a real fight next time.

She turned down several hallways and slipped down one of the stairwells to exit out of one of the building's backdoors. Celaena was annoyed that Rowan had followed her so easily in the first place, and she made sure he hadn't tailed her again.

She walked aimlessly for a while, before swiftly scaling a tree and tilting her face up at the moon. At least the moon was the same, no matter where she went or how lost she was.

#9 - Wake up call

(Mon-El is mentioned here to follow the BULLSHIT canon but it goes better I promise)

The ringtone is loud and unnerving. She groans and try to grab her phone but she misses and the device falls on the floor with a dull tud. She swears inwardly and lean over the edge of the mattress to finally get a hold of her phone and the name on the screen makes her heart race and her eyes widen. Her reflexes finally kicks in and she picks up. She’s trying to compose herself as she sits up on the bed, covering her body with the sheet at the same time but her voice is still hesitant and surprised when she speaks. “Miss … Miss Grant?”

“Still stuttering I see, Kiera. One would think that after a few months playing reporter, you’d be more comfortable with words.” The tone is sharp and cutting and Kara, after working for the woman for so long, recognizes the anger behind the words. She feels a little dizzy because it’s been months since she last heard from Cat and she’s confused as to why the former CEO of CatCo is calling her. “Is … Is everything okay? Can I help you with something?” She tries as she gets up to pull on some clothes. The man in the bed beside her only groans and turn around and she doesn’t pay him any attention. “As a matter of fact, yes Kiera. You can explain to me what the hell is happening at CatCo Worldwide Media, an empire I worked damn hard to built from scratches, sacrificing so many things along the way.” The voice is low but the words are burning with anger and Kara hears the faint sound of footstep coming and going in the background. Cat is pacing and that alone tells Kara she is truly, truly angry. “I’m sorry? What do you mean what’s happening at CatCo?” Kara asks with a frown because she truly doesn’t know what her former boss is talking about. To be honest, the past few weeks have been dull and slow and she hasn’t paid any attention to anything, really. Every day was the same boring routine and even Alex seemed busy elsewhere. Well, that may have something to do with her latest love interest, if she can still call him that. “It tells a lot that you don’t even know what I am referring to.” This time, Cat’s snappish comment hurts and she wants to reply that it’s unfair of Cat to say something like that when she’s been the one to leave her own company but habits die hard and she keeps her mouth shut. “Snapper sent me an email a few days ago, telling me he was considering quitting. Obviously, I wasn’t going to let my best, although insufferable, reporter go to the competition so I called him and I didn’t like a single word of what he told me.” Kara knows she should probably feel more concerned about this and she bites her bottom lip to refrain herself from sighing. “He said that James Olsen doesn’t seem at all invested in his position as a CEO, which wasn’t truly a surprise but when he told me that the new director of MY company showed up late at a board meeting last week with a black eyes and ran the entire meeting while looking at his phone and only to excuse himself before the end … Well. You worked for me for two years so I let you imagine my reaction.” Cat’s pacing was becoming frantic and Kara had to move her phone away from her ear to be able to dissociate the familiar echo of heels on hard wooden floor from the voice of her former boss. Cat’s tone was low and cold and Kara almost winced at it. “However, that’s not what made me truly, truly angry. No, what did the trick was when I asked about his team, about you. He told me you were an okay reporter.” Cat stopped to take a breath and Kara frowned, not seeing the point of this little speech. “An okay reporter. In what world is it acceptable for you, Kara Danvers, to be an okay reporter when you could be the new shining star of this city? I did not promote you for you to pull off some kind of Rory Gilmore bullshit.” Kara almost smiled at the reference. She knows Cat is fond of that show since the very beginning and of course she would have used her spare time to catch up and the new episodes on Netflix. Still, the snarky comment hits his target. For almost a whole minute, she doesn’t say anything, simply listening to Cat’s breathing and to the sound of heels hurting the wood underneath them. She’s been so lost after Cat’s departure. She was hurting and everything was off-balance and wrong and she struggled to find a new lifestyle. One that quickly lost its interest, she can’t deny it. Even though the job itself was everything she wanted to, she got tired of encountering walls everywhere. With Snapper, who still doesn’t respect her as a person, with James who doesn’t understand her point of view on his being the Guardian, with Winn who takes James’s defense, with Mon-El when he rejected everything she was trying to teach him and even though she eventually agreed that he needed to find his own path on Earth, they had some nasty arguments about him having feelings for her and wanting to defend her and treating her like some kind of precious trophy. She got tired of struggling on every front and the void in her life was growing bigger and bigger every day and eventually, she gave up. She stopped putting all her heart into her job and she stopped fighting with James and Winn and she even let Mon-El get closer and closer until they became some kind of couple. She wasn’t entirely convinced and it didn’t feel right but she was tired of being alone and she thought that maybe, maybe this would help to get rid of this sickening feeling of emptiness. Alex got angry when she realized what had happened, after all that ridiculous buzz caused by this absurd villain with an unpronounceable name, and they had a massive argument about Mon-El. Deep down, Kara knows that Alex is absolutely right but she was tired of being told what she could or couldn’t do, what she should or shouldn’t think, she was tired of hurting, of feeling lonely and depressed and wrong. Mon-El was here and, for all the wrong reasons and she knows it, she let it happen. She feels tired and angry and now, her former boss is calling to lecture her about how she lives her life. “You know what, Miss Grant? You got some nerves to call on a Sunday morning to take all of your anger on me.” She hears the gasp escaping from Cat’s lips but she doesn’t stop. “You left, a year ago. You left CatCo, you left National City, you left ME.” She almost spits the last word because it still hurts. “I adapted, even though you know I don’t do well with change. I adapted and I tried to find a balance but you have no idea what’s been going on on my life. Because, you never called. You never called. You left and you said you would come back and so far you never did and I had to deal with a lot of bad things and all you do is call and lecture me about how I’m not good enough, how I’m not up to your expectations? Guess what, you are not entitled to anything I do anymore. This might me brand new information for you, I know, but you gave up that right when you left.” She paces too now, moving across her living room and keeping her voice controlled and low, partially because she doesn’t want Mon-El to listen, partially because she’s learned from the best that raising her voice isn’t as efficient as staying calm and collected. “So no, Miss Grant. I am not pulling off any Rory Gilmore bullshit like you so eloquently put it. I am living my life the best I can and you don’t get to say anything about it. You don’t get to call me out of the blue to tell me I’m not a good reporter and that you are disappointed in me. If this is a professional issue, I’m sure Snapper will be all too happy to fire me since he didn’t get to hire me in the first place but if it’s anything else, you can keep it for yourself, I don’t need, nor I want to hear it.” She stops talking and she realizes she’s slightly out of breath and her mouth is dry. She quickly goes to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water, waiting for her former boss to say something or to hang up. “What happened to you, Kara?” The tone is soft, barely a whisper but it’s the name that slips through the cracks of Kara’s broken soul. It’s overflowing her with memories and souvenirs and it fills the holes in her life, in her mind and in her heart in a way she thought wasn’t possible and so she breaks. She breaks and she weeps. She weeps all over again, for the little girl who witnessed the destruction of her whole world, for the teenager who had to grow up on a planet that gave her powers she couldn’t use, for the young woman who realized she could never be truly happy with someone for so many reasons, for the young woman who struggled to find a balance between being a hero, being an assistant, being a sister, having a crush and so much hope. She weeps for all she was and all she could have been and never became. She weeps for her parents and the disillusions that came with learning what they did, she weeps for Astra, the aunt she loved so deeply and who betrayed her, she weeps for the cousin she couldn’t protect when he first landed on Earth, she weeps for the same man who just handled her to the Danvers, she weeps for the loss of Jeremiah and the pain it caused to Eliza and Alex, she weeps for Alex who had to grow up with a strange alien sister and without a caring, loving father. She weeps for what she’d became instead, the pale shadow of herself, the dull reporter who doesn’t take her job seriously, the distant sister who refuses to deal with conflict, the pale imitation of a girlfriend who doesn’t love the man she pretends to love, the empty superhero who goes to save the world without hope or purpose. She breaks. Cat’s voice is soft and gentle in her ears and even though she can’t make the words Cat’s saying, she listens. It’s familiar and grounding, like an old lullaby. She listens and her breath starts to slow and her tears begins to run dry and eventually, eventually she stops crying altogether. “I’m sorry.” She whispers, not knowing exactly what she is apologizing for. It’s an habit and like all the others, it’s one that’s hard to kill. “There you are, Kiera. Apologizing for nothing and everything.” The barb lacks sharpness and Kara knows it’s meant to lighten the mood. It does, she smiles. “I’m coming home by the end of the week, Kara. Would you like to meet me for a coffee, when you’re free? That way, you can catch me up on everything I missed at CatCo. And … maybe your life, too.” The last words are shy and soft and Kara’s taken aback by the offer but she doesn’t have to think. The words are out of her mouth before she can even form them. “I would love to.” She answers and she feels something warm settle in her body, wraps around her like a blanket. A feeling, something she can’t describe but that tells her everything is going to be okay. “Good. I’ll send you the details by text. Oh and Kiera. Don’t be late.” Cat hangs up and Kara lets out a chuckle. Everything is falling back in place and suddenly, it’s like everything is right again. She stares at her bedroom door for a while. It’s time for her to turn her life around. All it took for her to realize it was a call from Cat Grant.