#'leave my boyfriend alone Camilla or the next time you will be missing a few teeth

[shctteredillusions]

👿 Cipriana

Let’s get the muses jealous [ @for-a-prxce ] Accepting

She had only been gone for a moment, leaving Emil holding Cucciolo while she ran to get some drinks for them and some water for the pug since it was such a hot day. Upon her return, however, she spotted a familiar woman standing there with Emil. The sight alone was almost enough to have her crushing the milkshakes in her hands but thankfully she managed to restrain herself. This was Emil, and she knew that he had a tendency to get looks everywhere he went yet that still hadn’t prepared her for the sudden spark that flared within her at the sight. Especially considering she’d already had a talk with Camilla about this and yet there she was, flirting with her boyfriend. Again. They can’t even properly communicate yet clearly she didn’t want to give up. 

Approaching, the scowl that had been present on her lips was quickly replaced with a grin as she shifted to stand between the two of them, grinning up at Emil while holding out the milkshake. “Here’s your milkshake, mio Principe Azzurro.” She then stood on her toes, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Something sweet for the worlds sweetest boyfriend.” It was only after that that she finally turned to address Camilla, her back to Emil as her grin immediately fell. She didn’t want Emil to know so she kept her voice light and cheerful as she greeted the other woman. “lascia il mio ragazzo da solo, Camilla o la prossima volta ti mancheranno alcuni denti.” And then, almost immediately after she said that, she turned back around, ignoring the woman once more as she wrapped her arm around Emil’s, tugging him along with Cucciolo with her. “Come on, Emil, I found the cutest little spot for us to sit at over here.”

[puckinghell]

Easy | Brock Boeser | Drabble

Summary Request: Something with Brock based on Easy by Camilla Cabello Word count: 1.7 Note: me, using my fics as therapy to throw all my own insecurities out there?? mayhaps. I called this a drabble because it’s a little short and I didn’t proofread so ignore my spelling mistakes

---

Your mind is foggy with all of the words that you’re not saying.

It’s not a big deal. It shouldn’t be a big deal. He’s coming home with you, not with her. That’s what matters, at the end of the day.

She’s standing tall like a statue, all long legs and tanned skin. Her smile reveals a row of perfectly whitened teeth.

And you don’t hate her. You can’t hate her, you don’t even know her name.

But you hate that you’re not her.

Brock is standing at the bar, next to her, making pleasant conversation. Jake is there too, and Bo left their group just a few minutes ago to find his wife. And nothing is happening, you can see that even from as far away as you’re standing.

Brock is just talking, smiling whenever appropriate. It’s a team thing, a charity thing, he has to talk to the people around.

“You’re staring,” a stoic voice drawls next to you, and you turn around to see Petey standing there. Behind his monotone drawl, with you know is his way of teasing, is a hint of pity, and you understand why.

If you were looking at yourself, all dressed up, standing completely alone in the corner sipping champagne, you’d feel bad for yourself too.

“Not your thing, eh?” Petey asks, and you would tease him for how Canadian he’s becoming if you felt like you could talk without crying. As it is, you stay silent. “Me neither,” Petey admits. “I never know what to talk about with these people. They’re better at that.”

He motions towards Brock and Jake. Your eyes follow his movement and you watch as the girl laughs, throws her head back and puts her hand on your boyfriend’s arm.

He gently moves his arm and her hand falls away.

Something ugly curls in the pit of your stomach.

“He has to do that,” says Petey, as if he can read your mind. “She’s the daughter of one of the sponsors.”

And you know that he has no choice, but God, you wish you didn’t have to be here to watch.

But you do. You have to be here to watch because that’s what supportive girlfriends do; and none of the other WAGs seem to have a problem with it, so why does it hurt you so much?

“Hey,” says Petey gently, like he can tell you’re on the verge of a mental breakdown. “Let’s go say hi.”

You dig your heels in as he tries to coax you to walk with him.

“What if,” you protest weakly, “what if he doesn’t want me to join him?” 

It might sound stupid, seeing as you’re his girlfriend, but you can’t help but look at her and look at you and think: why would he want me to be here?

Petey shoots you a confused look. “After all those times on the road where he’s whining about missing you? Not likely.” 

He doesn’t wait for your response, simply puts a hand on the small of your back and carefully manoevers you through the crowd, until you reach Brock and Jake.

“Petey!” Jake calls out. “Have you met Yvette?” He yanks Petey on the arm, like his appearance is the best thing that ever happened to him, and quickly makes an excuse to move away.

Brock’s arm sneaks around your waist and he presses his noise into the side of your head.

“I think Jake saw a hot girl somewhere,” he breathes with a chuckle, and your stomach churns.

Like her, you think, looking at Yvette, but Brock’s lips graze your cheek and you inhale deeply.

You can get through this, you think, and so you put on your best media smile, square back your shoulders and stand at your boyfriend’s side.

—

It’s quiet in the car on the way back, the streetlights lighting the empty roads.

Brock has been quiet, too, but you don’t doubt he’s going to ask. He’s always been able to read you like an open book; it’s just a matter of time.

It’s not until he puts the car in park, that he turns to you with a solemn expression on your face.

“Are you gonna tell me what’s wrong?” he says softly.

Without intention, you cross your arms: a shield, protecting yourself from his kind blue eyes, which are only looking for understanding.

“I’m fine.” It’s a lie, you know it, he knows it, too.

He gets out of the car without another word. Pushing you won’t help; he’s tried that many times before, and each time, you just shut down, turned away, put up your walls.

You dutifully follow him into the building, into the elevator, then his apartment.

“You’re a complicated one, you know?” Brock calls out to you, as he moves into the kitchen. “That might be an understatement, actually.” He laughs.

You stay behind in the living room, quietness surrounding you. He’s turned on the lights in the kitchen but the living room is still dark; it’s almost like you’re watching him from another dimension, as he pots around in the kitchen, gets a glass of water for himself, loosens his tie.

It’s almost like he’s forgotten you’re there, like he didn’t just call you out on the way your mind works. 

“Anything else?” you say quietly, and you think there’s no way he can hear you, but somehow, he does, and he turns to you, one eyebrow raised.

His words are too loud in the empty apartment.

“You’re complicated. You try to hide how you’re feeling, as if I can’t tell. You’re fickle and indecisive; you tell me you want to come to these events with me, then spend the entire evening hating me for taking you.”

Brock walks out of the kitchen, slowly walks towards you in the dark. Your arms are wrapped tightly around yourself, the soft material of your dress beneath your fingers.

“You overthink everything, especially good things, until you can’t enjoy it anymore, until you’ve ruined it.”

He comes to halt in front of you and reaches up to cup your cheek. It’s not until his thumb swipes your cheek, that you realize you’re crying.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Brock mumbles, “but you don’t talk to me about it,  so I don’t even get the chance to tell you how wrong you are.”

“It’s scary,” you croak, “what if you don’t like me anymore, after you find out how I can get?”

Brock shakes his head with vigor. “I already know you, baby. I know the old you and the future you and the current you, and I love all of them.” He sighs, moves his hands to your waist and pulls you flat against his chest.

“Try me,” he whispers. “Tell me something you think I don’t know.”

And this, you realize, is it. You always hoped you’d find someone who would love you despite the things you don’t love about yourself; it’s not easy, to believe it’s possible. There are so many things you wish you could change; what if all those things combined make you, as a person, hard to love?

But Brock is here, and he’s trying, and you know you owe it to both him and yourself to give it a shot.

So you talk.

“I wanna go to these events with you because I want to be there for you, like Holly is for Bo, but I hate going to these events because I see all these people that are better suited for you. That are prettier than me. I don’t hate the way I look, but I don’t love it either, and I just don’t...” Your voice breaks off as the lump in your throat seems to swell, and Brock seems to understand because he cuts in right away.

“You hate how crooked your bottom tooth is,” he hums, “but that tooth is my favorite thing about you, you know. The story of how you got it reminds me that you’re just as competitive as I am.”

You almost smile at the memory; you’d been in the heat of a snowball fight with your brother and in order to dodge one, you’d thrown yourself behind a car and hit your tooth against the rearview mirror. You hadn’t told anyone until after the fight was over, worried they’d stop you and that’d count as a win for your brother.

“And I know you hate the stretch marks around your thighs,” Brock continues, in one breath, “which is why I try to kiss them until you forget about that, whenever I get the chance.”

A quiet whine escapes your lips as realization comes crashing down on you; you had noticed Brock always spends a long time down there kissing your stretch marks, carefully and gently, but you hadn’t ever stopped to think of why he’d do that.

But it’s because he knows, he knows and he tries to fix it, tries to make it better.

Brock tugs you into his chest and you go easily, burying your head in his shoulder and letting your tears fall.

“I know you hate when I see you cry, and I know you hate when we fight,” he says softly, “because you’re afraid I’ll think that’s more drama than you’re worth, but you don’t know that I’d much rather spend one night fighting with you than a million peaceful nights with anyone else.”

You kiss him then, trying to shove all your feelings into that one kiss because it’s so hard to turn it into words, how much he means, how much you love him.

How he saved you.

He cradles your head, deepens the kiss until your toes are curling and the ugly thing in your stomach finally uncurls. He’s moving you towards the bedroom without breaking the kiss, until your legs hit the back of the bed and you let yourself fall back, because you trust that Brock will guide you to fall safely.

Like he always has before.

He shows you with his hands, then, that he’s not planning on ever leaving; he tells you with quiet whispers how much he loves you, how much he cares.

---

Way later, when the city of Vancouver is quiet in the darkness of the night, and Brock and you are a mess of naked tangled limbs in the sheets, your head resting on his chest with his heartbeat steady in your ear, you tell him the truth, the one truth you’ve always kept hidden in a chained up box next to your heart, the one truth you haven’t dared tell anyone else, the old truth.

“It’s always been my biggest fear that I’m hard to love.”

And then, the truth that is slowly creeping into your heart, taking over that chained up box but leaving the lock open, the new truth.

“But you make it seem so easy.”

Brock’s voice is soft as he speaks, his breath warm against your ear and his tone filled with fondness.

“Oh honey, loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”

[wiccastark]

Echo | C5

Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | 

CAMILLA sat the passenger seat with Jacob in the driver's seat. Jacob had agreed to drive her to the Clearwater's house before the bonfire that was happening at Jacob's home before meeting up with Bella. When Camilla had arrived back into the human world, her sister was being watched over by the Cullen family and the wolf pack because an unknown vampire had visited the Swan's home. The Cullen family gave Camilla the shivers, especially Bella's boyfriend, Edward. Let's just say that she and Edward didn't see eye to eye.

When Camilla looked over at Jacob, she noticed his eyebrows frown which led her to believe that he was thinking hard about something. "If you think any harder, your brain might explode," she joked; a small chuckle escaped her lips as she saw Jacob roll his eyes at her joke.

They remained silent for a moment until she asked him; "Were you thinking about Bella?"

She watched as his eyes widened in shock that she asked him that question. "Actually, I was thinking about what would happen if I was the one to imprint on you," he responded to her which caused her to stare at him like he was crazy.

Silence fell over them for a few moments until loud laughter escaped their lips. They continued laughing for a few moments until their laughter slowly died back down to silence. "Jacob, you are like my brother. I guess my coyote could sense your wolf, so it recognised you as family," Camilla suggested as she shrugged her shoulders.

Jacob thought about her suggestion for a moment and agreed with what she said. He had always seen her as a little sister and even now, he couldn't even think of Camilla in a romantic way as he does with Bella.

A smirk formed on Jacob as he spoke; "I can't say the same thing about you and Seth though."

Camilla's eyebrow frowned in confusion as she looked out the window and mouthed 'what' to herself. Jacob looked at her from the corner of his eye and he began to chuckle at the confusion on her face. "Come on, Camilla. It was so obvious when you were younger that Seth had a massive crush on you," he informed her which caused her to shake her head in disbelief.

She was unable to respond back as the car had pulled up in front of the Clearwater's house where Camilla saw Seth bolt out of and towards the car. He opened the door for Camilla and pulled her out of the car to wrap his arms around her. A loud squeal escaped from her lips as she felt her feet leave the ground as Seth picked her up and began to spin in circles. "SETH! Put me down!" she screamed as she hit his shoulder hard, making Jacob laugh loudly at them.

Seth let out a loud laugh before setting her back down on the ground. Camilla's dark eyes narrowed at him which caused a cheeky grin to appear on his face. He leaned down to place a kiss on her cheek causing her cheeks to turn red. "I'll see you both at the bonfire later," Jacob said as Seth closed the passenger door.

The young teens smiled and waved as Jacob drove off to meet up with Bella. Seth wrapped an arm around Camilla's waist and began leading her towards the house. "Mum is really excited to see you," he informed her when they reached the front door.

Sue Clearwater had been a mother figure along with Sarah Black to Camilla before she disappeared. The young teen had been unable to see Sue since she returned back to the human world due to catching up on everything she missed during her time as a coyote. "Camilla!" the voice of Sue Clearwater called out when the young teens entered the house.

Camilla was suddenly pulled into a hug by Sue which she quickly returned. Her eyes closed as she enjoyed the motherly hug Sue was giving her. Once Sue had pulled away, she grabbed Camilla's hand and pulled her towards the living room where they sat down together. They talked about everything that has happened since she disappeared until it was time to left for the bonfire.

⚸⚸⚸

The pack plus their imprints gathered around the bonfire with Billy sitting at the head of the circle with Old Quil, Quil's grandfather, and Sue sat on either side of him. The sounds of car doors shutting caused Camilla's head to move off Seth's shoulder and look towards the sound. She saw Jacob leading her sister, Bella towards the bonfire which Camilla used her enhanced hearing to hear what they were talking about. "You sure this is okay? I really hate being a party crasher," Bella asked Jacob, feeling uncomfortable being surrounded by the pack as she was dating the enemy.

"Technically, you're a Council Meeting crasher. See. The Council leaders, Dad, Quil's grandpa, and Sue Clearwater. She took over for Harry when he died," his words made Bella even more uncomfortable as she stopped walking; "Okay, I should not be here."

"You're okay. I thought..." Jacob stopped himself as he didn't want Bella to believe that only he wanted her there which was true. "I mean, they thought it would be good for you to hear the histories."

"The histories? The tribe's histories? Aren't they secret?" she asked, shocked that she was even invited to hear them.

"We all got a role to play. And you're a part of this. I mean, it's the first time Seth, Leah and Quil are hearing them, too. But you are the first outsider. Ever. Beside Camilla of course," he informed her as they continued walking toward the others.

"If I had have known that I wouldn't have..." she stopped herself for a moment before continuing; "I don't know... dressed better."

"Jake," Seth jumped up from his spot next to Camilla and ran towards Jacob.

Once Seth reached them, Jacob gave him a brotherly pat on his arm. "Hey. It's about time, you got here. Paul's been hoovering the grub. But I saved you some burgers," Seth informed the older wolf as Bella watched Camilla get to her feet and walk over to them.

"Good looking out, Bro," Jacob thanked Seth before turning to Bella. "Bella, this is Seth Clearwater, Leah's brother. Newest member of the pack."

Even though Seth had been over the Swan house since Camilla's return, he and Bella hadn't actually met since she spent most of her time with Edward. "Newest, bestest, brightest," Seth said cockily as he shook Bella's hand.

"And slowest," Jacob said before grabbing Seth into a headlock making Camilla shake her head at them.

"Come on guys. Jacob's dad is about to start," Camilla told them making Seth jump out of Jacob's headlock and walked over to his imprint.

Bella watched as Seth wrapped his arm around her sister's waist and they walked over to the others together. They sat down next to Embry and looked to Billy, waiting for him to start. Bella and Jacob joined them with Jacob sitting down next to Camilla with Bella on his other side, sitting rather close to him.

"The Quileutes have been a small tribe from the beginning... But we've always had magic in our blood. We were great spirit warriors... Shape shifters, that transform into the powerful wolf. This enabled us to scare off our enemies and protect our tribe," Billy's voice rang through the silent air.

Camilla sat on the end of the bench, eager to hear the tribe's histories. Seth glanced at her with a small smile as he felt joy feel his body that his imprint was excited to hear Billy talk about their history.

"One day our warriors came across a creature. It looked like a man, but it was hard like stone, and cold as ice... Our warriors' sharp teeth, finally tore it apart... But only fire would completely destroy it," Billy continued making Camilla realised what he was talking about.

Vampires, Cold Ones or leeches as she had heard the wolves call them.

"They lived in fear; the Cold Man was not alone. And they were right. She took her vengeance out on the village. Our elder chief, Taha Aki, was the only spirit warrior left to save the tribe, after his son was killed. Taha Aki's Third Wife could see that he would lose..." Billy's voice made Camilla feel like she was there watching Taha Aki attacking the woman while The Third Wife watched on.

"The Third Wife was no magical being, no special powers, but one... Courage. The Third Wife's sacrifice distracted the Cold Woman, long enough for Taha Aki to destroy her. She saved the tribe. Over time, our enemies have disappeared. But one remains... The Cold Ones," Billy looked at Bella as he spoke making her look down at the ground, unable to meet his eyes.

"Our magic awakens when they near. And we sense it now, we feel the threat in our blood. Something terrible is coming. And we must all be ready. All of us," with his final words, he looked towards Camilla which made her look at the ground.

She could feel her eyes glow bright blue before she squeezed her eyelids tightly, hoping for them to fade back to brown. Camilla had a lot of control over her coyote which surprised the Council leaders as she had more self-control than even Sam. But when her emotions ran high, the only thing she couldn't always control were her eyes as they would shift from brown to blue.

Seth, noticing his imprint's discomfort, grab her hand in his and gripped it tightly; trying to comfort her. His touch caused Camilla to notice that her eyes were no longer blue as she looked up at him with her eyes now open and gave him a smile.

One thing lingered in her mind though. If the Quileute tribe's history spoke about the Cold Ones, would they have something about what she was?

[afteriwake]

Alternate Beginnings, Alternate Endings, Alternate Universes (2/5 - An “Adventures In Unexpected Places” Story)

Another old chapter of @fadeddreaming‘s crossover story! This part isn’t as long, I swear...

Alternate Beginnings, Alternate Endings, Alternate Universes - After being sent to the worst school in the whole of England, Amy meets up with the man whose fault it is that she’s there, and things go vastly more differently than anyone expected.

READ CHAPTER 1 | READ CHAPTER 2 | SERIES PAGE | HELP ME SURVIVE? | COMMISSION ME? | BUY ME A KOFI?

The months rolled by. They had arrived in October, and helped participate in their very own Devil’s Night against the local town (most of the town occupants had sensibly left the town unoccupied) two weeks after arriving. Then they had the most unusual fall festival ever, but one that was much preferable to being in Leadworth and having to participate in the treacly pageant the town put on.

Christmas was a bit of a problem: Mel’s parents decided they wanted Mels home, but Aunt Sharon made no move to invite Amy back. But the Doctor had the fix for that, and she spent Christmas Eve on the TARDIS, waking up Christmas Day and unwrapping gifts from all over the galaxy, while the Doctor took to the fez she had picked out on Camilla’s advice like a duck takes to water. He’d also enjoyed the blue bow tie she’d picked out, and Amy swore for the next major gift-giving holiday to give him a green one. When the New Year dawned a week later, Amy and the Doctor were setting off fireworks from the roof of St. Trinian’s, along with Camilla and the other students who hadn’t left the property, for one reason or another.

By the time Valentine’s Day got close, Amy was completely at home in her new school. Yes, the lessons were spotty, and she spent more time being a hooligan then her aunt had probably intended, but she was getting a good education from the Doctor, who was taking her to any point in history she wanted to go on their monthly visits, and was teaching her science and English through the most inventive way possible. Her visit to Shakespeare had been her favorite; and she had gotten to see a rousing performance of “A Midsummer’s Night Dream” in full period clothing.

Mels came when she wanted, but Mels fit in with their classmates more, and after almost getting sucked into a black hole on the first visit she wasn’t as enthused for the trips as her friend was. Mels had made a friend in Kelly Jones, who was learning to be more and more like Mels. It was unusual to see Mels with a friend other than her, and saddening, in a way. But the Doctor more than made up for it.

“What do you want to do this month?” he asked when he picked her up in February for their scheduled visit.

“I want to have a boyfriend,” she said. “There’s supposed to be a boy in Leadworth who likes me. Rory Williams.”

“Oh, he loves you all right,” the Doctor said quietly.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing, nothing,” he said. While he had taken her to the future, he didn’t take her to her future, and he knew bits and pieces of it. Rory played a prominent part, he remembered that much. “Would you like to visit him?”

“Yes,” she said with a grin, and he piloted the controls to take them to Leadworth. “What day is it?”

“Still February 1st,” he replied, opening the door to the TARDIS. “He should be coming right up the lane…now.”

“Oi! Rory!” Amy stuck her head out of the TARDIS and yelled at her old friend.

“Amy!” he called back, running up to the box. He stuck his head in, his eyes wide, and then saw the Doctor. “He’s real? It’s all real?”

“Of course it’s all real,” she said, rolling her eyes. She grabbed his arm and pulled him in, and then shut the door behind him. “Don’t worry, he’ll bring you right back.”

“My mum saw one of your letters and said you were still crazy little Amelia,” he said, going up to the console in wonder. “If she only knew.”

“Yeah, well, she can’t,” Amy said. “Anyway, Rory, this is the Doctor. Doctor, this is Rory Williams.”

“How do you do?” the Doctor said, extending his hand to the young man.

“Good,” Rory said, shaking it. “You?”

“Very good,” he replied. “So, does our intrepid new friend get to pick where we go?”

“Of course not,” Amy said. “You already know where you want to take us, don’t you?”

“Ooh, sometimes you’re too clever,’ he replied, ruffling Amy’s hair. She ducked away and fixed it, getting close to Rory. Then she noticed how close she was and took a large step to the side. “I was thinking…Venice.”

“What’s so interesting about Venice?” Amy asked, making a face.

“Gondolas!” the Doctor replied. The two teenagers looked at him, blank faced. “All right then. 1940s is out, your own personal future is out…ancient Rome? Stonehenge? London 2012 Olympic—oh, wait, I’ve already been there, shouldn’t cross my own timeline. Beijing Olympics in 2010? Does any of that sound at all interesting?”

“You know, I’d like to have a picnic somewhere exotic,” Amy said. “Can we do a picnic?”

“Yeah. I didn’t eat lunch today,” Rory said.

“Picnic, right then. I can go whip something up. How about…Atrellion 5? They have a breathable atmosphere, and the sky is rainbow hued, and there are all sorts of nifty ruins to explore.”

“That sounds good,” Rory said, looking at Amy.

“Sounds good to me,” Amy said with a nod.

“I’ll go get the food,” he said as he threw down controls. “Unless you’d like to raid the pantry, Amelia, since you know where everything is.”

“What kind of food do you have?” Rory asked.

“He’s got all sorts. Even American food,” she said, walking towards the kitchen, with Rory following. “He’s got these chocolate chip cookies that are to die for. Pepperidge Farm?” The two adolescents disappeared out of the console room, and he pulled up the data he had from their future and frowned. Today was supposed to be their first date. But how…oh. He had to come up with a reason to be scarce. This would not be a good thing to mess up. He landed the TARDIS and waited patiently for them to come back.

“And you can see dinosaurs, though they’re really boring and they smell bad,” Amy was saying as they came back.

“Well, I need to drop you two off for an hour or so. Got a message from my friend River. Terrible emergency, needed right away.” He opened the door and practically shoved them outside. “Don’t stray far, I’ll be back in two hours, three at most.” He shut the door behind them and dematerialized, rematerializing about 100 yards away under silence. He wasn’t so irresponsible he’d leave the two of them on the planet alone. He turned on the monitor and focused in on them.

“That was rude,” Amy said, glaring at where the TARDIS had been. “And it’s supposed to be my day with him, too.”

“Then why’d you come get me?” Rory asked, hefting the heavy picnic blanket.

“Cause I missed you,” she said quietly. “Mels and I see each other almost every day, and I didn’t come back for Christmas, and I…missed you,” she said, ending it with a shrug. She switched arms to hold the blanket and punched him in the shoulder awkwardly. “Let’s go find a place to eat, okay?”

They trudged off about ten feet until they found the ruins of a fort. Amy laid down the blanket in one corner of the ruins, then settled on it as Rory set down the basket. “Nice view,” he said when he sat down.

“Yeah,” she said. She reached into the basket the same time that he did, and their hands brushed. She pulled hers back really fast. “Could you get me one of my sandwiches?”

“Sure,” he said, pulling one out. “This place is really cool.”

“Yeah, it is,” she said, taking a bite of her sandwich. “So, what happened since the last time we talked?”

“Not much. Marcy has a boyfriend now, and Greg got sent to the headmaster’s office for assault. And Jennifer asked me out, but I said no.”

“Oh,” she said quietly.

“What about you?”

“Oh, not much. Mels has gotten it in her head that we can become criminal masterminds, so she recruited this guy in one of the other villages to help us out.”

“Sounds like Mels,” Rory said with a slight chuckle.

“And I hang out with the Doctor once a month. He won’t take me on as a companion until after I graduate, so I get a few hours once a month until then.”

“Sounds like your life is better than mine,” he said glumly. “Mine’s so boring since you left.”

“I’m sorry. Maybe I can bring you on my trips with the Doctor?” she suggested.

“Really?” he said.

“Yeah,” she replied. “Mels almost got sucked down a black hole so she doesn’t like them as much anymore, unless we go to the past, then she wants to come. And I like him, but I get a little lonely sometimes.”

“I’d love to go with you. Wherever or whenever you go,” Rory said earnestly.

“Kind of like my…boyfriend?” she suggested, blushing slightly.

“Are you asking me out?” he asked, also turning a slight shade of pink.

“Yeah? Yeah. Yeah, I’m asking you out.”

“Okay. Yeah. I’ll be your boyfriend.”

“Really?” she asked, surprised.

“Why do you think I said no to Jennifer? I don’t like her like I like you.”

“That’s sweet,” Amy said with a smile. “You were my first choice when I decided I wanted to have a boyfriend. Mels said you might like me, so I figured it would be good to at least see. And you do, so it’s good.”

“Do I have to…kiss…you?” he asked.

“Well, that’s what boyfriends do,” she said.

“Oh. Okay.”

“But not now, because we’re eating. Afterwards you can kiss me. I mean, you can kiss me good-bye. I mean, good-night.”

“Oh. Okay.” He ate more of his sandwich, and she ate hers, and they stayed relatively quiet. When he was done he reached in for a soda, and handed her one. “Do I get to put my arm around your shoulders?”

“Not today. Next time…maybe.” She took a big drink of soda. “So, what do you want to do when the Doctor comes back?”

Whatever he had planned to say was drowned out by a roar. Both of them froze, and then Rory slowly set down his soda and looked around, picking up a rock about the size of his palm. He stood in front of Amy and the food, ready to protect her. Amy, thinking just as fast, stood up and grabbed a stick from inside the ruins and stood by his side. “I’m protecting you!” he said.

“Well, then take the stick and give me the rock!” she said as the roar sounded again.

He started to say something else when the TARDIS materialized in front of them. “Quick in, in, before the Yerdhel cub’s mother finds him,” the Doctor said from the open doorway. Rory grabbed the basket and Amy grabbed the blanket and they bolted into the control room. “Forgot about the wildlife here,” he said sheepishly.

“I thought you were busy,” Amy said, narrowing her eyes at him.

“I finished my business but you two seemed chummy so I didn’t want to intrude.”

“Make sense,” Rory said, setting the basket down on the floor.

“So you say,” Amy said, a little suspiciously. Then she sighed. “Well, now what?”

“How about we go watch a race?”

“A race?” Amy said, putting her hands on her hips.

“In space. There’s a community in America that does an annual race to the moon, or to Mars, can’t quite remember. We can watch them in space.”

“That could be interesting,” Rory said.

“Sure, why not?” Amy said with a shrug.

“Excellent. I’ll take you to the race in 2010. That one was spectacular.” He went to the console, then paused. “Rory, you take the doohickey. Amy, you take the wibbly lever.” The teens went where he pointed. “Ready, then?”

“Ready,” they chorused. “Then let’s go!” They did what they were supposed to do, and then the Doctor opened the door. “Right they should be coming by us any moment.”

“Uh, Doctor?” Rory said from next to him. “I think that one in front is coming straight at us.”

“Right you are,” he replied, then he raced back to the controls. He fiddled with a lever, and while the door was open they moved to the side, out of the rocket’s path. “Better?”

“Better,” Rory said, his eyes glued on the rockets. Amy watched for a moment, then came back to the console.

“Aren’t you going to watch the rockets?” the Doctor asked as he headed back towards Rory.

“No,” she said. “It’s boring.”

“One of them is doing something fishy,” Rory said, looking back.

“2010…oh, bugger,” the Doctor murmured. “Rory shut the door. Amy, to the wibbly lever again.” He flipped controls “Now, Amy.” Amy turned the wibbly lever and the whole TARDIS lurched. “Forgot what happened in 2010,” he said sheepishly.

“Can we just go home?” Amy said.

“Home?” Rory said. “But…we didn’t get to do much.”

“Yeah, but at home I can talk to you without worrying about being eaten or blown to bits,” she said.

“Ah,” the Doctor replied. “Tell you what. Why don’t you show him around? I’ll just go to my study and…do stuff. Study. Something or other. You two can talk to your hearts content.”

“Okay,” Amy said. “Mind if we spend some time in the pool?”

“Sure, all right.” Then he paused. “But no monkey business. Don’t need either of you drowning…or worse.”

“Got it,” she said. She grabbed Rory’s hand and pulled him along. “Come on, Rory.”

The Doctor watched them walk away, amused grin on his face, as he went to his own room. He puttered around for two hours before checking up on them, finding them out of the pool and in the library, all dried off and looking at the things in there. “Not as bored.”

“There’s so much fascinating stuff,” Amy said. “I’m glad the swimming pool isn’t in here anymore.”

“I rather am too,” the Doctor replied. He then nodded to Amy. “We should probably go soon.”

“Oh, right.” She grinned at Rory. “Next month, we’ll do something you want.”

“Promise?”

She leaned over and quickly kissed his cheek. “Promise.”

They all headed back to the control room, and the Doctor landed Rory right where they’d picked him up. Amy walked outside with him, and when she came back in five minutes later the Doctor could have sworn it looked like she was floating. “Well?”

“He’s going to try and come visit on Valentine’s Day,” she said, a dreamy smile on her face.

“At your school?”

“Yeah,” she said.

“Won’t your classmates tear him to shreds?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

The dreamy look on her face disappeared. “Oh, damn.”

“Leave it up to me,” he said gently. “I’ll make sure you get to see your sweetheart on Valentine’s Day.”

“Thank you,” she said, relieved. “So…home now?”

“Home it is,” he replied, fiddling with the knobs and levers before landing on the roof of St. Trinian’s. “Oh, by the way…tell Mels that unless the man she’s talking to is Fast Harry, it’ll all fall apart around her ears.”

“Right.” She was almost to the door, then paused. “How did you know?”

“I looked into the future,” he said, mentally slapping himself for not catching it earlier. “It wasn’t like I was spying or anything.”

“Right,” she said, an amused grin on her face. “Well, see you on Valentine’s Day, Doctor.”

“See you then,” he replied as she left and shut the door behind her. He went back to the console and checked the record, and was pleased to find everything the same. And, most of all, he was happy for Amy and Rory. He knew there were some hard times coming, and she would be grateful for his support.

[expensiveminimalist]

It Took One Night - William Nylander (Part 10)

A/N: Hey lovelies, here’s part 10! It crosses over into part 11 so please don’t think I just decided to cut it off there lol 

Word Count: 3k 

Warnings: Pregnancy, Swearing (seriously, you know me by now) 

Masterlist 

That night, after the ultrasound, you and William ate waffles in front of the TV and lost count of how many times you’d replayed your sonogram DVD. You were both convinced each time that you’d seen something different, another finger or its toes moving, and you ended up rewinding it several times just to prove that either of you weren’t imagining things.

Since the ultrasound you and William had been spending more and more time together, even though he’d was back training fulltime for the upcoming season. He was continuing to make you a priority and, honestly, it was only making these feelings you had for him stronger – the same damn feelings you were also trying to convince yourself weren’t real.

You were also finallyat the 12 week mark of your pregnancy, and were now happily letting yourself dream about life with your baby would be like, without your anxiety getting in the way. You were still worried, it was only natural since you’d already grown so attached to this tiny human and you wouldn’t stop worrying until you were holding them in your arms. Then, you’d be in your blissful baby bubble for a few hours until your anxiety set back in and you wouldn’t sleep for the next eighteen years.

But being twelve weeks pregnant also meant one other thing, something that you were still trying reassure yourself was going to go well – meeting William’s family. Your biggest concern was that they’d think you were using William, and that you expected him to carry the financial burden of raising a child. It also crossed your mind that you weren’t sure William knew how to introduce you. You weren’t his girlfriend but you also weren’t just a random that was carrying his baby. He’d made it obvious that you meant something to him, what you weren’t entirely sure, and the last thing you wanted was to make him feel awkward in front of his own family.

So, naturally, it was the only thing you’d been thinking about for the last week since William said that his family was having dinner on Saturday night, and you were the guest of honour. He didn’t exactly put it like that but you definitely felt you were going to be on a pedestal, so that his family could figure out whether you were someone that was going to be a problem in William’s life. You felt terrible that you were making them out to be a hoard of monsters in your mind but you were genuinely terrified that they’d hate you, and not just for yourself but for your baby. When William had spoken about his family he’d always talked about them so fondly and said how close they are which is something you’d hope that your child would get to experience, unlike the train wreck that was your own family. You just hoped that you wouldn’t be the reason that your baby could potentially miss out.

---

You’d had to work on Saturday which served as a great distraction from thinking about tonight’s dinner. The only problem was, by the time you got home, you were ready to have a shower and get into bed, not have a shower and go and meet the father of your child’s entire family.  

You spent about twenty minutes going through every item of clothing in your closet and drawers to try and find something suitable before flopping on your bed in defeat, still wrapped in your towel from your shower.

“So is there any reason that I keep hearing very loud groaning coming from your room?” Lyla asked, walking into your room and smirking as she saw you laying in your towel.

“I know what you’re thinking and no I wasn’t doing that, I’m just trying to find something to wear”

“Shit, got a hot date have you?”

“If you call meeting someone’s family a ‘hot date’, then totally”

“How long have you had a boyfriend and why haven’t I met him yet?” Lyla said, jokingly putting her hand over her mouth as she faked a gasp of surprise.

You ran your hands through your hair, trying to figure out how you were going to explain your situation to Lyla, “He’s uh, he’s not exactly my boyfriend per say. But, you have met him. You’ve met him like a lot”.

Lyla’s face quickly changed from confused to shock as she yelled “holy shit, you and Willy!?”

You felt your face going red as you grabbed your pillow and shoved your face into it, hoping that Lyla would decide not to ask any more questions.

“Wait, you said he wasn’t your boyfriend. If he’s not your boyfriend, why are you meeting his family?” she continued.

You sat up and put the pillow back in place, taking a deep breath as you did so.

“I’m pregnant” you said, watching Lyla’s face closely.

“What!? You mean you and Willy are having a baby?”

“That’s sort of what me saying I’m pregnant means” you said sarcastically.

“Congratulations! And I mean congratulations to you only because I’m going to kick Willy’s ass for not telling me sooner! It’s not like I’m his best friend or anything right!?” she said, breaking into a smile that made you feel so much more relaxed.

“I only just reached twelve weeks so he only told his fam-”

“Twelve weeks! I cannot believe that little shit lied to me for twelve weeks. How rude”

“Lyla he didn’t mean anything by it. It’s my fault for being so paranoid and not wanting to tell anybody that didn’t have to know”

Lyla sat down beside you and put her arms around you, “calm down, I’m kidding. I’m really happy for you, for both of you. I’m assuming I wasn’t planned but he has had a skip in his step lately, so I’m guessing I’m allowed to be happy for you guys?”

“It’s scary but yeah it’s a happy thing” you said, smiling at Lyla as you hugged her back.

“Oh and don’t worry about his family, seriously they are the loveliest people. Alex can be fucking annoying, just like William, but other than that you’re good. And I knowonce they get to know you, they’re gonna love you and realise how perfect you are for that big idiot”

“Thank you, but I said he isn’t my boyfriend”

Lyla rolled her eyes, “yeah just because you said it, doesn’t mean I believe it”.

“Shut up” you said, playfully whacking her with your pillow.

“Hey, you’re the one that needs to work on her acting!” she said, trying to dodge the pillow, “oh and just wear jeans and a nice top - it’s not dinner with the royal family”

In your mind, it might as well have been.

---

Eventually you decided on a pair of high-waisted jeans and a plain white t-shirt, looking at your body in the mirror and wondering when you’d see your first sign of a bump – and when you’d have to buy new jeans. You didn’t, however, manage to dodge Lyla’s kissy faces as you walked out the door and into William’s car.

You were grateful that he’d offered to pick you up, even though you were starting to feel like he was becoming your chauffeur. He didn’t seem to mind though so you felt less guilty about it.

“Remind me again, what are your parents name? I’m blanking and I don’t want to look like a total moron” you said as William drove away from your apartment.

He chuckled, “Michael and Camilla, andyou’re not a moron”

“And you have four sisters and one brother right?” you continued, not wanting to get anything wrong.

“Yes, except Michelle can’t make it so she said that we’ll catch up another time, as long as that’s alright with you of course. But Alex, Jacquline, Stephanie and Daniella will all be there and I promise they’re gonna love you. Well the girls will, Alex will probably just saying something stupid that’ll make you think he doesn’t like you but he doesn’t mean it”

You set about trying to remember everyone’s names and their ages, which William had told you previously, determined to make somewhat of a good first impression.

“Any chance they’ll be wearing name tags?”

William laughed, “I don’t think so. But I do know that my little sisters won’t shut up about you” he said, taking one hand off the wheel and entwining his fingers with yours.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure they think you’re like a princess or something because mum’s been going a bit overboard trying to make everything look perfect, and making sure the foods first class”

“She doesn’t have to do that, I’m nothing special”

“You are special”

You were glad it was dark, otherwise William couldn’t have missed your blushing face.

“Seriously, they’re going to love you. I’m pretty sure mum already does because you’re carrying her grandchild so you beat everyone” he teased.

“Thank you”

“For what?”

“For keeping me from losing my marbles” you said, both of you laughing as he pulled up the driveway.

“Anytime babe”

You lent over and kissed him on the cheek before he stepped out of the car, then smirked as you felt his fingers on your jawline. He turned your face towards his and pressed his lips against yours, gently, before slowly pulling away.

“Ready?”

“Ready”

---

There was a split second as William opened the front door that you considered bolting back to the car and hiding in there for the foreseeable future.

But the minute William took hold of your hand, you felt calmer, knowing that you weren’t alone in this. Regardless of what happened, you had him and that meant the world to you.

“Hello, you’re favourite child has arrived!” William shouted as the two of you walked through the door.

“Willy!” you heard a younger girl yell in reply, before she came sprinting towards him and lept into his arms.

“Hey squirt” he said, hugging her enthusiastically in return.

“Don’t call me squirt, I’m not a little kid”

“Um yeah you are, and don’t be rude – say hi to Y/N”

“Hi Y/N! I’m Daniella” she said, leaving William’s arms and enveloping you into a hug that you hadn’t expected but appreciated none the less.

“Squirt, don’t hug her too hard otherwise the baby will pop out” William teased.

“Babies don’t just pop out Willy, I’m not stupid. And stop calling me squirt”

“My big sister calls me squirt too” you said, smiling at Daniella as she finally let go of you.

“Really! Well, Willy I guess you can call me squirt then” she said, stepping aside as the rest of William’s family came into the living room.

“Told you, she thinks you’re a god” William whispered to you before he went to give his mum and dad a hug.

“Wow Willy, way to introduce us all” his brother chirped as he walked over to give you a hug hello.

“I’m Alex, the better looking brother”

You laughed as you saw William roll his eyes, “he also has terrible eyesight, so that way when he looks in the mirror he doesn’t cry” William shot back.

“Why do you like my brother?” Alex asked, jokingly.

“Stop hogging her!” a girl who was older than Daniella but looked younger than Alex said, following suit of her siblings and wrapping her arms around you. “I’m Jacquline” she said, swatting a hand at Alex to make him go away.

“And I’m Stephanie!” a girl, slightly younger than Jacquline, said as she pushed her sister away and hugged you herself.

“Ok, ok stop crowding her jeez. She’s not a zoo animal” William teased.

“I’m sorry but it’s not very often you let us meet one of your girlfriends so forgive us for wanting to savour the moment” Jacquline shot back.

William poked his tongue at his sister before he motioned for them to move so that you could meet his parents – the actual reason you’d come to dinner.

“Mum, Dad, this is Y/N. She thinks you bite, so be nice”

“William!” you hissed.

“My son thinks he’s so funny” Camilla teased, glaring at William, as she pulled you in for a cuddle.

If you were being honest, you were most afraid of meeting Camilla for the soul purpose that she’s William’s mum. But from the moment she wrapped her arms around you, you felt relaxed and wanted. It was the kind of hug you’d always expected you’d feel from your own mother, except you never did. So you weren’t surprised when you felt yourself almost melting into her, not wanting her to let go of you.

“How have you been feeling? William said your morning sickness had been pretty brutal, I know that feeling” she said, rubbing your back as you wished in your head that Camilla was your mum.

“Yeah it hasn’t been a lot of fun but it’s slowly getting better now. I mean, the chef at work doesn’t think I hate her cooking anymore” you joked, relieved when both Camilla and Michael laughed.

“Glad to hear you’re feeling better. If you weren’t I was going to give you full permission to take it out on long-locks here” Michael teased as he shook your hand.

“Least I have more than a handful of hair on my head dad”

“Yeah, get back to me on that in 10-15 years”

William half pouted, half laughed as he took hold of your hand again and led you over to the couch, shoving Alex over in the process.

“We have a guest” William said as Alex scowled at him.

You sat down next to William, snuggling into his side as he wrapped his arm around you and kissed you on the head.

“You alright?” he whispered.

“Yeah” you whispered back, smiling up at him.

You looked around the living room and noticed that Camilla was the only one missing, and you knew exactly where to find her when you had the clutter of dishes and utensils

“I’m gonna go see if your mum needs any help in the kitchen” you said to William, who reluctantly let you slip away from him.

“Need an extra hand?” you said as you walked into the kitchen, losing all control of your senses as you smelt the food that Camilla had been busy preparing. Food hadn’t been your best friend lately but fuck that smelt delicious.

“Oh no, no you just relax please. You’re our guest” she said, smiling at you.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes! But you’re welcome to stay and chat if you want too, I might even let you lick the spoon” she said, noticing your eyes locked on the culinary delight in the frying pan.

“It smells delicious” you said, looking around the kitchen at the feast Camilla had prepared. Then, your eyes noticed a familiar picture on the refrigerator.

“That’s from my ultrasound” you said, smiling as Camilla stopped what she was doing and looked at the sonogram picture as well.

“I may or may not be a proud soon-to-be-grandma if you hadn’t already guessed” she said, taking the picture off the fridge and bringing it over so you could both look at it closer.

“I still can’t believe that he or she is inside of me right now”

“Pretty surreal right? Just wait until you get to hold them in your arms for the first time. Sweetheart you’re going to absolutely melt, there’s no better feeling in the world” Camilla said, wrapping her arm around you once again.

“I wish I could fast-forward to that moment, six months is too long to wait!” you moaned.

“Oh I completely agree but it’s so worth it in the end” she said, squeezing your shoulder.

“William didn’t go into all the details but he did say that you’re not very close with your mum” Camilla said, turning you so you were facing her, “so, I just wanted to let you know that if you ever need to talk about anything, and I mean anything, you can call me whenever you need too ok? I’m here for you too”

You felt your eyes welling up because you couldn’t believe how loving she was being towards you, someone that she’d only just met. This time, you pulled her in for a hug and stayed there for a few minutes as she rubbed her hand up and down your back again, reassuring you that she was in your corner.

“Thank you” you spoke into her shoulder, trying not to get your tears all over her top.

“You’re welcome sweetheart” she said, resting her chin on top of your head.

“Everything ok in here?” William said as he cautiously entered the room, not wanting to interrupt the moment.

“Just a grandma, mummy, baby moment” Camilla said, letting go of you as William handed you a tissue.

She put the sonogram picture carefully back up on the fridge as William came up behind you, wrapped his arms around your waist and let his hands rest on your stomach. You didn’t have a bump yet but William had already made it clear that when you did, he was going to appreciate it.

“So can I steal my girlfriend back or are you two not done yet?” William said, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“I guess I can let you have her back for a little bit, but I want her back after dinner” Camilla teased, not noticing the semi-shocked expression on your face.

Girlfriend. He just called you his girlfriend. He just called you his girlfriend in front of his mum.

You might as well go home now because the odds of you remembering anything else after that– were next to none.

[bluebookbadger-blog]

The Price of a Life - Chapter 12

Title: The Price of a Life Fandom (s): Fullmetal Alchemist/Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood Summary: I always thought waking up in another world would be a lot more…interesting. At least slightly exciting and terrifying, but it really wasn’t. It was more of a sudden and underwhelming event, that landed me in the company of fiction and its ignorance to modern physics. I thought it was a dream. Boy was I wrong. Characters: SI/OC, Maes Hughes, Edward Elric, Alphonse Elric, etc. Rating: PG-13

The next week sped by in a blur, every little inconvenience bringing tears to my eyes. I literally cried over spilled milk. Twice. But, despite the heavy cloud hanging over my head, I had made some headway in my plans. With Gracia, I visited the bank, and relearned the process of making a withdrawal, the banking system quite similar to the one back in my world.

However, on Friday, when I was officially declared well enough to be without crutches and had my stitches removed, was the day of Miss. Reich's funeral. The wake would be held in a funeral home on the other side of the local cemetery.

I didn't tell Camilla or Gracia where I was going, but from my black dress that the Fuhrer had given me and the thin shawl over my shoulders, they could have easily guessed.

The walk felt much longer than it had previously, the hot sun making the stiff black clothes unbearable. My mind drifted to the idea of the wake. Would there be a priest? Would there be a lot of family there? Would I even be allowed to attend? I thought about the last funeral I had attended in my world.

It had been for the old German spinster who lived across the street from us. Me and my siblings always called her Omama. She was strict and would always yell at us for trampling her tulips or letting the chickens free range on her lawn, but the old woman had a softer side.

We would go over to her houseafter finishing our school work to eat some of her famous spritzkuchen, which were like doughnuts. She would help us with our Latin homework, or at least she tried to, her explanations wandering into German. Omama was single, and was the youngest in her family that came to America. All of her siblings had died, and despite her snappiness and angry grumbles, our family had become hers.

My mother had known her when she was younger, and even then my mother would bring her boyfriend of the month over and eat popcorn and watch a movie. Afterwards Omama would take one last look at the guy, and tell my mom he wasn't the right one. My dad was one of those guys, but I think that was the only time Omama was ever wrong about something. Or at least the only time that I know of.

Her funeral had been about a year before I left my world. It was unexpected, or at least as unexpected as the death of a 104 year old woman living alone could be. Ironically, I wasn't even that sad. All I could think about at the wake was all the New Year's Eves spent huddled around her little tube television with a mouthful of popcorn, and all the times she threatened to cook up one of the chickens for eating her tomato garden.

But this wake was going to be very different, judging by Hughes' funeral. It would most likely be curt, professional, and silent. Though I still blamed myself for what happened, some of those self loathing feelings had ebbed. Perhaps she and Albert were destined to die. Maybe someone else had died, somewhere far away, and maybe their death's were simple coincidence.

Somewhere my subconscious dismissed those thoughts as wishful thinking, but they gave me some relief from the weight on my conscience.

The funeral home was small, with vines growing up the brick and mortar sides. There were a few cars and buggies parked haphazardly on the road in front of it. I was frozen standing at the steps, the questions returning.

Just as I was about to turn away, social anxiety clawing at my insides to go back to the apartment, the door creaked open. A man stepped out, a freshly lit cigar between his lips. He wore a top hat and suit reminiscent of one you would imagine in a Jane Austen novel. He had dark hair, by evidence of his twitching black mustache. His eyes stood out the most: bright, clear, blue eyes. Blue eyes that were staring at me.

The man blew a puff of smoke, motioning with the cigar in his hand.

"Ye can go in y'know," The man said, his accent strange compared to the clear and enunciated speech of most Amestrians to which I had spoken. Now that I thought about it, Amestris had almost no variety of dialects, at least not in Central. I suppressed a smile, recalling my cousin Morgan's conclusion that, 'You Nutmeggers have an accent - the accent of not having a damn accent' the same could be said about Central. No slurred consonants, emphasized vowels, or abbreviated words - they spoke as if they were reading from a dictionary.

"Hey, ye okay lass?" The man's gruff voice stirred me from the brief moment of thought. I nodded numbly, all of my fears and sorrow regarding the wake dissipated. I had attended at least a hundred funerals in my time (related to old age and illness, though I believe there may have been a car crash or two in my extended family at some point). This one would be no different. This would be executed with the same solemn, collected, finality that Hughes' funeral had, and I would be just fine with that.

I stepped inside the quaint building, greeted by the homey, slightly smokey scent of the funeral home. Seeing a guest, book, I approached and read the names.

Reich...Reich...Reich...

All family, except for me. I scribbled my cursive name and followed the faint sounds of voices. Everything was strangely muted, my own breathing and uneven steps muffled by the carpeted floor and atmosphere of the hallway. I soon found a small room filled with people who stood in groups of three or four, mumbling quietly to each other.

Suddenly feeling unwelcome, I turned to leave but found my feet unwilling. I had to go in there.

I took a deep breath, and took a few steps into the room. No one even noticed me.

'Finally,' I thought, maneuvering between groups. 'My wish to become invisible had been granted,' At last I was beside the raised casket, the top portioned opened to reveal the body inside. I swallowed a lump in my throat at the sight of her. She looked so peaceful, as if she were asleep, but her stillness was too unnatural and broke the illusion.

Unlike the wakes I had attended previously, there was no kneeler for me to say a few prayers on, not that I was capable of doing so without rekindling the pain in my side. I stood there quietly for a moment, my hands folded before myself for a few whispered prayers. When I finished, I felt the urge to turn and run, before the crowds noticed my presence.

Stronger than that urge was the habit of tradition. I brought my hands to my neck and undid the clasp of my mother's golden necklace, the attached rosary and earring clinking quietly as I lifted it from my chest and laid it in the coffin beside Mrs. Reich.

It was a tradition of my family to put a small token of oneself in the coffin. Some caskets would be stuffed with books and wine glasses, other bedazzled with jewelry and small statues. I considered Mrs. Reich to be one of the few people I knew as family in this world, so the gift was justified. Keeping my eyes trained on the ground, I weaved my way back to hallway.

Stepping softly back into the warmth of the city, but the bright sunlight seemed colder now. I was not going to sit through the funeral, however brief it may have been, just to be alone in a crowd.

Back at the apartment, all was quiet. It seemed the Grace, Camila, and Elicia had gone out for the day, leaving me to my schemes. I limped to my bedroom, exhausted by the long walk. Stripping off the dress, I threw on a loose blouse and some comfortable pants before getting to work. I changed the sheets on my bed, neatly folding every corner, before emptying every drawer and packing it into the bag I had been given.

Once satisfied with my choice in attire, I closed the bag and hefted it onto my shoulder and exited the room. I stood in the hallway for a moment, wondering what I was doing before shaking myself from the doubts and heading to the door.

Quickly placing on the table a previously composed note expressing my wishes to leave, I left the apartment. I moved robotically, I can barely remember even leaving the apartment. My thoughts were elsewhere, wandering the expanse of my life that had led to this cowardice.

That's right, I was a coward. I was just running away from these people and this place. And I was just fine with that. I wasn't even supposed to be here, let alone involve myself in the lives of the people here. It wasn't my place to play God and decide who lived and died, and as of late, I no longer had any power in such matters. And that was okay.

I continued walking until I found the bank, keeping my eyes low as I withdrew some money from my account, receiving hostile glares and suspicion from the teller. I then realized I wasn't wearing a hat, and that I must have appeared mightily foreign to the teller. I didn't care. They couldn't get me arrested for taking money from my account. Well, maybe they could call the police, but what harm would that do? I gathered up the cenz and paper money and threw it into my bag before strutting arrogantly from the bank. I didn't care what they thought.

Night was falling as I made my way farther from the center of the city, the dilapidated flats and closed store buildings becoming more sinister as darkness fell. The lights here were not electric, and it seemed only a few had been lit out of necessity. The exhaustion from the day was making me weary, but the dark alleys and the less than pleasant looking residents of the slum were enough to keep me from lying down in a side street to rest. Still, I needed somewhere to sleep for the night, and I wasn't about to risk any of the parasites or diseases that lurked in the apartment buildings.

So I continued walking towards my destination. I was tired, yes, but fear is a damn good motivator. And currently, I was quite afraid. Afraid of the man who has been walking behind me for a few blocks now, afraid of the prospect of sleeping in some alleyway, afraid of sleeping without a weapon - there was plenty to fear on a night like that.

The man following me was my greatest concern in that moment, his dark silhouette barely illuminated by the flickering streetlamps. I had walked around a block a few times to make sure I wasn't being paranoid, but the figure was definitely stalking me.

It was unnerving, especially considering the only weapon I had was probably in a plastic evidence bag somewhere in Central Command. I guess I could have grabbed a kitchen knife, but it would be too awkward to carry around, and butcher's knives didn't have a handle to keep you from cutting yourself if your hand slid forward. I had no other choice except to keep moving. I could sleep when I inevitably died.

The footsteps disappeared into one of the dilapidated buildings, but my anxiety did not let up.

The slums gave way to the outer ring of the city, populated by the tents and shacks of the homeless. A few fires burned here, the only source of light in the dreary landscape. Most of these fires were encircled by cloaked figures, their tired red eyes trained on the flames and their dark lips speaking in hushed whispers. I kept to the path, but avoided these areas. I may have trusted them in the day, but night made it difficult to discern friend from foe. I doubted even my likeness to the Ishvalans would grant me automatic acceptance in these dark outer limits of the city.

The pathway I walked on was raised above the haphazardly constructed shacks, which sat in low ditches carved into the sandy earth. The path would branch into grids that outlined the square ditches. I imagine that it must have looked like some complex computer chip from the air, with the scrap metal rooves reflecting the silver light of the stars and the fires pin pricks of gold.

I continued walking until I came upon an abandoned fire, the red embers still giving off enough light to be seen from my distance. I began walking towards the dim light, the secondary pathway narrow and ill defined from its surrounding ditches. I somehow managed to maneuver through the maze of pathways without falling down the steep incline to the shanties below. The people who huddled around the fires watched me with unblinking eyes. I could not tell if curiosity or wariness was the cause of their stares, so I avoided meeting their crimson gazes.

I kept my own maroon eyes fixated on the nearing embers. This ditch was slightly larger than the surrounding campsites, but the hovels were more numerous and smaller. I cautiously slid down the incline, the gravel and sand scraping my hands as gravity pulled me down. All was quiet, with the exception of the muffled crackle of the embers. The faint glow revealed several sleeping forms, and I had to push away the urge to continue walking. I needed to rest for a little while, and the chill of the autumn air was numbing my hands.

Stepping gingerly over the slumbering beings, I crouched by the embers and tried to warm my hands. Using a nearby charcoaled stick, I stirred them to life, and reveled in the heat they gave off. The flickering lights illuminated the sleeping forms to reveal children, who huddled together for warmth. It pulled at my heart strings, seeing their thin shivering forms wrapped in rags. Some bore pale scars on their dark skin, evidence of the cruelty such small children had already endured.

I counted them, noting that there was no one in the huts. In total, I could make out at least sixteen children. I wondered where their parents where for a moment, before the memory of the war resurfaced and I once more felt intense pity for the children. Homeless orphans, from my best guess. I shrugged off my jacket and laid it over a boy who wore only a pair of tattered shorts.

Using my bag as a pillow, I laid my head down and looked at the stars. I could never properly see them in the city, where the glaring lights obscured them from view. Here, however, they were bright and clear, sharply defined against the inky indigo abyss of space. They were not familiar at all. No Ursa Major or Andromeda were visible, the scattered lights uncoordinated with any familiar constellations. Another reminder of how out of place I was. Another reminder of this alien world.

At some point in the night I had drifted off, but only briefly, as the first grey lights of the morning sun startled me awake. Well, more than the light, the rumble of engines woke me. The children from the night before were gone, their shabby blankets missing and the only evidence of their existence being the footprints in the sand. My eyes followed the prints to find that they led to the shacks. Before I could investigate further, a truck rolled to a stop above me.

"Hey!" A voice called, a young Ishvalan waving to me. "You want work?" I thought for a moment. Did I want to go on that truck to who knows where for possible 'work' which could be less than desirable? Not really. Did I want to stay here and wait to be confronted and forced to go somewhere else? No. Creepy truck it was!

I nodded, and picked up me bag.

"You won't be needin' that," The man said, motioning to my satchel. I looked at the huts and sighed. Hopefully the children would know better than to rifle through my things. I walked to the nearest shack and placed my things just inside the 'door' which was no more than a sheet of ragged fabric. I took a quick inventory of my clothes, the pants and loose shirt concealing anything that might dissuade a job offer that involved intense physical labor. My boots would hopefully have enough support to keep my ankles from giving out if this 'work' involved being on my feet all day. It was harvest season after all, and the only land outside of the city that was not modified Hoovervilles was farmland from the looks of it.

I scrambled up the incline to the road, where the truck was waiting. I hopped up onto the bed of the truck where the Ishvalan man clapped a hand on my back.

"So, you're new 'round here I'm guessing," He said with a chuckle as the vehicle roared to life and began sputtering down the narrow path away from the city.

"Yes," I responded quietly, hoping not to sound foreign to the man. "What kind of work are we doing?" I asked softly as the truck slowed to a stop, more Ishvalans boarding the truck. Most were young men, strong and shirtless, but a few women boarded as well, their silver locks tied up in braids to be kept out of their faces.

"The Meyer Farm, nice folks, nothin' you need to worry about," He said, moving over as more people crowded the truck bed. "The work's hard though, sure you up for it? You look a little pale," I ducked my head, forgetting that I had no hat to hide my features, which must have been quite conspicuous even in the dim morning light.

"I can handle it," I responded firmly, though I did not meet his eyes. Perhaps I could handle it, perhaps I could not. My hip was quite sore from the long walk the other day, but the pain was manageable compared to the pain when I first received the injury.

The truck continued its stop and go until we reached the edge of the shantytown and the dry sandy earth faded into ranch land. The man spoke with the other riders in a language I did not recognize, at least from the series, which made me nervous. Perhaps I should have stayed with Gracia.

The vehicle thundered to a stop, shaking my worried from my mind as the people got off the truck and immediately set to work. We had stopped at a small farm house, the faded blue paint peeling to reveal the half rotted wood beneath. I followed the crowd, realizing more trucks full of people where off loading their cargo. I followed the man who had invited me, his broad shoulders cutting a pathway in the crowd for me to follow behind him.

I avoided meeting the prying eyes of the other workers, and focused on the man in front of me. He was young, in his mid twenties at most. But scars where raked across his left shoulder, a peppering of bullets that could have killed had they been a few inches lower. I swallowed involuntarily, looking away from the scar tissue. I kept forgetting that these people lived through a war.

Tailing the man, I collected several baskets, each about half a meter in diameter and in depth.

"What are we picking?" I finally asked as we boarded another truck.

"So he can speak!" Exclaimed one of other workers above the engine, an older man with a neatly combed ashen beard. I gave a nervous smile as they gave a small laugh of amusement at my meek demeanor. "It's sugar beet season son,"

"It's Harvest Day, the boss expects frost tonight. Wouldn't be surprised if we're picking greens today," The man I had followed responded, I listening intently. I had picked sugar beets when I worked on Mr. Solosky's farm back home, but I preferred picking greens. Parsley, basil, cilantro, dill, watercress - Solosky's was mainly a bean farm, but we had small fields of greens where most of the girls worked, simply because it was not as labor intense as corn and cucumber harvesting.

"Naw, there won't be frost, my knee isn't aching like it would if there be frost on the way," The older man replied, patting a knee that was barely held together with sinew and stringy muscle. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from asking why there was no automail to facilitate his walking, which must have been impeded by the war injury.

I looked over the edge of the truck, avoiding the current debate over the connection of body aches and weather predictions. The neat rows of vegetables and vine plants spanned much farther than I had ever worked. Where I normally picked 100 yard rows of tomatoes, there was at least a mile of squash and gourd plants. The other side of the road was lined with golden wheat fields that shivered in the wind.

A small smile tugged at my lips as I reminiscence my own time on a farm. Sure the days were long, the sun was hot, and tomato plant tar never came out, but it paid well, and it was a pretty good learning experience. I had to manage small ragtag teams of workers that varied day to day and coordinate with the boss on what and where and when tasks could be completed. Working the register at markets was the customer service facet of the job, laced with irrational demands and crying, impatient children.

This work seemed different though. It seemed as if today would be filled with more monotonous, repetitive picking and less human interactions, which I was completely fine with. I still was not quite ready to throw myself back into the lives of complete strangers, not yet at least.

The truck rumbled to a stop, and I lifted my head to see an endless sea of green rows. The man whom I would be tailing for the day, I am going to start calling him...Roger, because I know it would be rude to ask an Ishvalan their name for their religious reason and whatnot, beckoned me to follow him. I eagerly kept pace with him as he led me to a row of plants that had the faintest scent of beeswax and freshly cut grass - watercress.

Roger plucked some from the moist earth, the morning dew not yet evaporated.

"Pick it just like this," He said, demonstrating the roots still clotted with earth. He then threw it into the basket, and met my eyes for a moment. "Can you do that?" I nodded and set to work, using both hands to grab handfuls of the herb at a time. Roger walked away, satisfied with my pace and began on his own row.

I was wrapped in nostalgia as I worked, the rhythm to the labor setting in as time drew on and the sun grew hotter. I was falling behind, and it began to irk me as Roger passed me despite starting long after I had begun. For a little while I drove myself harder, trying to work fast enough to keep up with the others, but quickly gave up and returned to my previous pace. I was going to burn myself out trying to work any faster than I already was.

My mind wandered in the simmering heat, the sun seemingly too hot for the chill I had felt just hours ago. I worried about being paid, but could not really care for the money. So long as the Ishvalans didn't kick me out of the little camp, I could make due with sleeping under the strange stars.

Wiping some sweat from my brow without looking up, I thought about the children I had stumbled upon. A worry gnawed inside me that they had gone through my belongings, ripped up my Certificate of Honorary Whatnot, and had spent what little money I had on candy. I was swift to dismiss the thought. I could have some faith in them. Until they proved me wrong.

The sun was high in the sky when I finally noticed why I was so much slower than the other workers. Where I picked all six independent rows of Watercress, they went down one side of their row, collecting only half so as to get the rest on the return trip. I looked down the row, seeing that a small gathering was taking place with the truck. All of the workers had completed their half a row.

I assumed they were resting, the shade from the many trees that bordered the field. I licked my lips, realizing how thirsty I was, but quickly went back to the task at hand. I could drink when I finished, and it would take too much time to walk all the way down there just to drink. And so I kept working, my hands black with fertile earth and blistering from the rough handles of the basket.

Memories of Mr. Solosky's farm returned as I found my rhythm again and got back to work.

I could feel the weight of my jeans as I weaved my way through patches of weeds taller than I was to find the last few rows of wax beans, heavy with fruit and hidden from man and beast alike. Anya, Mr. Soloksy's daughter, in her ankle length skirt and flattering t-shirt hard at work in the wash station with piles of sweet potatoes in the sinks. Vitaly and Vladimir would always joke about who would win my sister's heart, only to be shocked by Mary's disinterest in men, and marriage in general. I found myself smiling at the memory of my meek, shy older sibling coming to Harvest Day bonfire with her first, and admittedly only ever, girlfriend.

It took some time for Roger's voice to register, the hum of my own heartbeat and breathing lulling my into a trance-like state of dogged work.

"Kid, 'ey, you all right?" I looked up, sweat beading on my eyelashes making it difficult to focus on the identity of the speaker. I rubbed my face with my elbow, the sleeve of the blouse coarse against my skin. I met Roger's worried red eyes and nodded confidently. He gave an unconvinced smile and handed me a canteen that looked as if it had fallen out of a WWII movie. "We all gotta drink, don't over work yourself,"

I took the canteen and drank, the water cold and refreshing. I'm not sure if everyone can relate, but I took those long, deep, gulping mouthfuls of water you take when you're in a hurry or have just eaten a ghost pepper sandwich. Smiling sheepishly, I handed the now empty canteen back to the man. Looking around, I realized that an entire crowd of workers were standing behind him. Some watched the exchange intently, others sat in the green grass and talked amongst themselves. I had finished my row entirely.

It took a great amount of effort to keep from throwing my arms in the air and flopping down in the tall grass and taking a victory nap. Instead, I shuffled the heavy basket onto the grass and carefully lowered myself to the ground, knowing the hypnosis of work would fade away, leaving pain and aches behind. At least Roger seemed amused. He, with one hand, easily hefted the near full basket onto the bed of the truck, which had acquired a few barrels of water since I last saw it.

"Well, take a rest for now, you deserve it kid," I took his words to heart, but merely nodded and watched the other workers.

Men and women mingled, but none were treated with disrespect. If anything, the people seemed to have some sort of reverence for each other. The older one was, the more respect they commanded, the deeper the nods, the longer the conversation. It was pretty darn strange to me for some reason, which made watching them as I relaxed for a few moments even stranger.

Most of them did not sit down, only the elders took such a privilege. Those who stood did not stand still, they shifted their weight from foot to foot, as if they were still in the fields working to the rhythm of some unsung song. Their respect seemed so unnatural compared to what I had seen in my own world, making me feel somewhat guilty for my place in the grass. But I couldn't have gotten up if I wanted to.

My hip throbbed as though a separate heart had been transplanted there, hot blood rushing through my veins. I must affirm that it was not close to as painful as when I first received it, but Lord almighty did it hurt. I took a moment to pray it was not infected before watching the people again.

Suddenly, they began walking back to their half finished rows. Perhaps the sun had shifted a little or the air had cooled a degree or two to notify them that they all should get back to work, but I could not detect it. Roger walked up to me, and offered me a hand.

"Back to work, brother," He said softly, I doing my best to hide my faltering steps from him. "You can help the Brother," Roger pointed at the old man with the crooked knee, who struggled to stand. I had to resist lifting an eyebrow. The Brother made it sound as if...I answered my own question, realizing most of the monks would have been killed in Ishval, and the probability that this man was the only monk who worked here would make sense.

Roger gave a stiff clap on my shoulder, urging me to go help the man. I glanced back to see he had already traveled back to his own half finished row and had resumed work. I walked over and held out a hand to the Brother, who looked up at me with eyes that sparkled with laughter.

"Child, I have not lost myself quite yet," The man shakily stood, and I felt anxious at the sight of his trembling hands. I could almost see him collapsing into a pile of ash, his fragility disclosed as he regained the strength to take a step. However, once he gained some momentum, the Brother and I shuffled along at a brisk pace to the end of the half picked row.

It took me a moment, but I found the task of carrying the basket to be sufficient in aiding our almost agonizingly slow pace. We trailed behind all other workers, not because we were doing twice as much more, but because it took twice as much time for the stiff, shaking hands of the elder to gather up the greens. It was quite annoying to be honest.

I think those few hours, of just wanting to move a little faster for the sake of finshing the task and getting on to the next really tried my patience. I realize that he was old, and frail, and his age was to be respected, but I came from a world of high speed internet and online shopping. I felt a little entitles to immediate reward, in other words, an empty row behind us. But there was nothing I could do but hold the basket and walking behind him, watching the workers become more and more distant.

I held the basket in my arms, its weight growing with every plant the man added, but I could not complain. Clouds had overcome the sky, blocking the sun from sight. They brought with them a cool, dry wind that smelled of distant apple orchards. This was much more comfortable to work in compared to the blazing heat, but that itch of impatience still compelled me to constantly judge the distance between us and the next hill crest that would let me view the end of the row.

The sun was beginning to dip towards the horizon as we finished, the other workers patiently loading their baskets onto the cargo wagon and standing quietly by the truck. With the final plant of the row plucked from its dusty niche, I hefted the basket around the man and headed for the cargo wagon, which was drawn by a thin mule behind the truck. I nestled it among the countless others, which were carefully balanced in a neat pyramid.

I trudged back to the truck, where the Brother and the workers had already clambered onto its bed. I yawned as Roger helped me up, his hands covered with dirt and slick with sweat. He chuckled at my sleepiness.

"Long day?" I nodded, my back and feet sore and my still healing wound now aching with pain. He gave a half smile and ruffled my hair, the action gaining him a cross look from myself. That right was still reserved for Gracia, and now my hair was dirty and I had nowhere to shower.

The realization then dawned on me - I had no shower. Roger must have observed my face contort with terror at the thought. I was no germophobe, but I needed to shower at least every other day to keep my tangled mane from becoming a feral mass of matted hair. The idea left a sour feeling in my stomach. Perhaps I couldn't move away from Gracia quite yet.

The truck stopped at the farmhouse, and we all sort of staggered off the vehicle best we could and headed to the following mule drawn cart to offload the greens to the safety of the storage sheds. I somehow managed to drag a basket of what appeared to be Romaine lettuce to the shed, a meager contribution compared to the two or three baskets most of the workers carried at a time.

I could not have cared less at that moment. You probably can related to the bone tiredness of pure exhaustion that had glazed over my eyes and sunk into my bones as I sat there being useless while the other workers gathered around the farmhouse porch. Somewhere in my mind I had an inkling that they were being paid, and that I would not get my share if I didn't crawl over there, but the aching of my joints and the throb in my side kept me still.

I had money, and so long as I was welcome in the Ishvalan slums I would not need to spend any of it anytime soon. Well, if my money was still there when I got back. After what seemed like forever the crowd of people shuffled back to their respective mode of transport, Roger climbing up onto the truck and helping the Brother up before coming to sit beside me.

"You didn't get your money," I nodded, the swirling reds and violets of the sunset mesmerizing. "I would have brought it to you, but Mr. Meyers doesn't even know you work for him, not yet," I nodded again.

"Not all of us rely on money for pleasure, child," The old man spoke up, watching Roger with half lidded eyes, "To be close to Ishvala by working with the earth is all some need to find true happiness," Roger bowed his head, a student corrected by the teacher.

"But all of us need money to buy food," I said quietly, looking at the Brother to see his response. The Ishvalan religion had always intrigued me in its ambiguity. The only points made clear about its teachings were that names were considered sacred, and alchemy was strictly forbidden as it was arrogant and perverse in its nature.

"And should not our brothers provide for us?" The Brother asked in response. I was too tired to process the words then, but in retrospective this question was probably a bit of a test for me after I challenged his words.

"One cannot depend on others to provide for you, you must toil for your wheat, and share the excess it with others, that they may plant fields of their own, until all are satisfied," I said, trying to put together a cohesive sentence from the foggy catacombs of church catechisms and Sunday homilies.

"And why don't you share all of your wheat with others?" I gave him a hard stare. We were all tired, it was getting dark, the truck had only one headlight and he wanted to go all Socratic Method right this second?

"I don't know," I said with a sigh, "Probably 'cause you gotta make some bread to eat so that you don't drop dead," This roused a small laugh in the Brother.

"True, my child, quite true," The truck thundered to a stop, I for the first time realizing I was at the camp where the children sat around the fire. I shakily climbed down off the truck, squinting up at the dark figures still left.

"I'll see you guys, have a good night," I bade with another yawn, skidding down the embankment. The children around the fire parted for me, my unopened bag holding a place for me.

It unnerved me a little, the circle of kids sitting around a fire just waiting for me to get off the truck and join them, like some dark cult awaiting the sacrificial lamb. The small boy who now wore my jacket scooted closer to me, eyes alight with curiosity. One of the older children, a young girl who must have been nearing her teens finally spoke up.

"We didn't go through your things, sir," Her voice trembled slightly, but her red eyed stare met me with unexpected intensity. "But where are you from?" The other children began to speak up, questions rising cacophony.

"Where did you come from?"

"How did you afford this coat?"

"Why are you here?"

"Who are you?" That last question hung in the air a moment longer than the other, the child who spoke it recognizing the taboo of its answer. I could only look out tiredly, sleep calling me. I could not help but answer all of them, the routine of my introduction coming reflexively in my exhausted state.

"I'm from Drachma but I have an honorary citizenship, I had a job in the city that paid well, but I lost it, I'm here to work on the farm, and my name is Irish," I said, laying down in the sandy earth. My bag was under my neck, the support easing my aching spine.

I could hear the new questions arise, but the words escaping me. A deep voice commanded silence, and all fell quiet. As curious as I was to its source, I dared not sit up. My hip felt as though the bones were chafing away at each other, and any movement only worsened the damage.

I stared up at the dark sky, the stars blurring as I fought to look up at the beauty for a few moments longer. For a second I thought I glimpsed a familiar belt of stars, but they disappeared as I drifted into unconsciousness.

Masterlist

[mmsayuwontletgo-blog]

marty mcgoldrick, say you won’t let go.

Hello, Marty! You must be saying “oh my god, Camilla” now. I know. And I can even imagine the expression of your face. It’s ok, because those little things that make me fall in love with you even more. Now you must be wondering why I made this blog today, right? You know I have too much free time now, and sometimes I feel that I don’t tell you enough how much special you are in my life. Sometimes I find hard to understand how I have with me the most wonderful person that I could ever find. Well, the best way for me to tell you those things is writting, but everyday we find ouselves out of time so I can tell you how amazing you are. I’m saying that cause never would be enough time for me to tell you how perfect you are. Not even if I stole the whole time of the world. I hope you don’t get too tired of reading this, cause I made with all my heart for you. And hopefully after this you NEVER think you are not good enough for me, cause I am the one who is never gonna be good enough for you. 

THE FIRST DATE.

You know when you meet someone and you finally feel butterflies inside of you? I didnt know this a few months ago until I met you. I never get tired of telling this story, because I never had seen someone so handsome and such beautiful eyes. I remember talking to myself thinking “Oh my God, I should have bought a new dress to come to this date”, cause nothing I could do would change the fact that you were the most handsome guy I’ve ever seen in my life. And I wanted to look pretty so I could have a chance, right? But then the whole night was funny and you were making me so nervous. What if you did not liked me the way I liked you. Then, one more time you decided to be perfect and kissed me. Oh-My-God, what was that? Never felt like this before. Is this real? Am I in a tv show? Am I being prank? Cause it’s impossible someone be like you are. I wouldnt change anything about that night. I don’t know if you remember, but they were playing such nice songs that night, and it seemed like a videoclip for me. Nice songs playing and me looking at you. How can I forget of me going to the toilet to talk to those girls and start saying “Oh my God, he didn’t like me. He is so handsome and I’m so normal. I feel so bad ‘cause I’m pretty sure he didn’t like me and he is such a nice guy.” I was so nervous, never really felt like this about anyone. And today I’m so happy to know that you haven’t had many dates... ‘Cause then you will never forget about the day you went to a date with this brazilian girl. I was feeling so stupid ‘cause I couldn’t understand your accent. But it was such a nice feeling, because same time I had no clue what you were saying, I was enchanted by the way you were speaking. All my body was shaking, my heart was beating so fast. No one ever made me feel the way you did, and never will. I could not stop thinking about you since then, until today and all the rest of my life.

FAIRYTALES.

All my life I’ve been watching romantic movies. You can ask my friends and my mom, as long as I wanted to be romantic, I never really belived that everything could be that perfect. Exemple, never really believed that the handsome guy that could have anyone would fall in love with a silly girl. Well, that happened to me. Pretty lucky I am, right? Perhaps life was preparing me and only letting me meet the bad in life so when I’d finally meet the bright and good I would know. That’s how I feel right now. You have no idea how much light you bring to my life every single day. You know lately I’ve been a little bit sad because we are far from each other, but as you said today, I’m seeing this from the wrong point of view, because this distance only will make us stronger. The fact there is someone still in love with me, waiting for me, even when I so far apart makes me so happy. And it’s not just a regular guy, it is someone that I’m so in love that sometimes drives me crazy. I can say now I’m not living a fairytale, ‘cause those movies and books always get to an end, and I definiely don’t want an end with you. As I told you before and I’m going to tell again, and again, how many times you need me to tell you: I will never break up with you. NEVER. And if someday we find ourselves apart, I’m sure it wont be my choice, cause I could never seeing myself saying goodbye to something so special as our love right now. We can watch all romantic movies, read all Nicholas Sparks romances, but they will never make me feel so amazed the way I feel when I look at us. 

PERFECTION.

I could give you SO MANY reasons why I’m a little bit jealous sometimes... Ok, a little bit? A LOT jealous of you. I mean, do you have a mirror in your house? Look at yourselft for a little bit, Marty.. Ok, you wont cause you are comfortable on your bed right now. But I remember all details of your face, and I can easily say you are so easy to love. Let’s start for your beautiful eyes. Have you ever seen eyes more beutiful than yours? I dont think so. I can’t explain.I’m not over reacting, but not even the sky is more beautiful than your eyes. Then we have your lips. Oh my God, such perfect lips. Hair? There is better hair than yours. Your skins? So perfect. I love your color, you have no idea. Your body? Ok, I should write a whole text about your body. Is that real? I’m NOT over reating, for real. Martin, why life is so unfair? God give us one chance to born in this crazy world, some people were born normal, like me, and some people were born with this perfect body like you. Babe, you are so perfect. There no one I would think is better than you in any way. Apart of the perfect beauty, I’ve never met someone so kind like you. You are all about helping people and are always trying to give your best to make them happy around you. That’s why you have so many true friends and they want to be around you all the time. Have you never asked youself why? The way you talk, the way you act, just shows how much caring you are. Such a good friend, a good listener, a good partner. If you didnt like me in our first date, I would have definiely tried to keep you in my life as my friend. Good for me now, cause I have in you my best friend + perfect boyfriend.

MADNESS.

I know sometimes I can be a little bit crazy and get mad with little things, and I want to tell you I’m so sorry for all the times I was rude at you. It was never my intention to make you feel sad or bad about yourself. My goal in life now is to make you feel happy and show you why you are so perfect everysingle day. I can’t say I will never be mad about something again, we both know I probably will.. Not because you gonna do something wrong, because I’m crazy. :( But before that happens, I wanna say I’m sorry. So mad Milla asked me to tell you that if she is yelling or in a bad mood right now, just buy her icecream, put some Modern Family and show her some puppies or babies. If anything works, buy her a puppy and everything will be ok. No, never buy puppies, adopt! I’m sure she is gonna be happy with this. You are also allow to leave her in the house alone and go to have a few drinks. She is gonna fall asleep (hamster mode) and everything will be fine next day. Anyways, mad Milla says I’m sorry for all the times she was being crazy. NEVER EVER EVER believe in things mad Milla says. She is evil and it’s gonna try to make you feel bad without knowing. Such a bad person.

DISTANCE.

That’s a word I don’t like that much. But distance means so little when someone means so much. No matter how many years pass, how much distance exists between us, wherever we are in the world, even if the universe itself tries to keep us separated, I will always find my way to you. Marty, it’s not easy, but look how amazing it is the fact that long distance relationships are hard, but they’re also incredible. If you can love, trust, respect, and support each other from a distance then you’ll be unstoppable once you’re physically together. Distance is so temporary, but our love is permanent.   Distance never separates two hearts that really care, for our memories span the miles and in seconds we are there. But whenever I start feeling sad, because I miss you, I remind myself how lucky I am to have someone so special to miss. And how special you are, oh my God. Sometimes I just can’t believe I have someone like you loving me. When you feel alone, just look at the spaces between your fingers, remember that in those spaces you can see my fingers locked with yours forever. Once I read a book called “The Last Song’, and there is this quote I love but I never thought that someday it would mean that much how it means now.

“Sometimes you have to be apart from the people you love, but that doesn’t make you love them any less. Sometimes you love them more.”

  ―  Nicholas Sparks, The Last Song

And that couldn’t be more true. If we look around us, there are so many people looking for love, and love just happened to us, and I’m really greateful that happened to someone like you.

“The reason it hurts so much to separate is because our souls are connected. Maybe they always have been and will be. Maybe we've lived a thousand lives before this one and in each of them we've found each other. And maybe each time, we've been forced apart for the same reasons. That means that this goodbye is both a goodbye for the past ten thousand years and a prelude to what will come.” 

― Nicholas Sparks, The Notebook

ALL THE WORLD TO SEE.

Can I get all excited about us traveling together and making plans about what we can see and do? ‘Cause I pretty much do this every single day before I fall asleep. I keep asking to myself what I can in all the places we gonna visit so we can have money to travel even more. Yes, I do that. I’m sure this year we gonna have opportunities to see a lot of places together, and take a lot of pictures. Can I ask you something? Let’s take at least one picture together in every place we visit, so someday we can put on a wall and keep that as our best memories of our first year together. What do you think? Although I know I don’t need that cause I never forget about any minute we have together, since the first date, the first night we sleep together and the last until now. I’m sure we gonna have the best moment of our lives, and I’m lucky with the fact I will have my best friend and my love with me all the road. 

LOSS AND EARNINGS.

We both know the meaning of losing someone in our life. It doesn’t matter if was a friend, a parent, ‘cause for a while all we felt it was pain and makes us close our hearts for a long time. But I want you to know that pain makes us stronger, and sometimes painful roads lead us to the right place, and that’s the place where I met you. I want let you know that in life we going to have so many hard times, we gonna lose people around us, because they are far or because they are gone... It happens, but I promise you as long as you want, I’ll be around, protecting you when you think you can’t handle anymore. I’ll hold your hand when you think you gonna fall. I will hold you when you are falling apart. I will be your medicine if you feel sick, And if someday you think you can’t do it anymore, I will be your  strength. I will be strong enough to both of us, because I know you would do the same for me. Marty, we are always losing people around us, but be sure that you will never lose me. I will be here no matter what. If you need me, just call my name. I trust in you no matter what, you are the only one I want to tell about my feelings and open myself, and I hope I can be your safest place to hide like you are mine, 

TAKE MY HAND.

And we can go walking. And we can talk about whatever is on your mind. Well, I just wanted to tell you a little bit of how I feel about you. Believe me, I’m just not writing more because I know you might won’t like to read that much. I just really want you to know how much I’m in love with you, Marty. You are my best friend and my love. You are my safest place to hide. Thank you so much for being who you are. I would never change anything about you. One day we gonna look to our little problems of today and laugh, same time we would be glad we had them to make us even stronger. So it's not gonna be easy. It's going to be really hard. We're gonna have to work at this everyday, but I want to do that because I want you. I want all of you, forever, everyday. You and me, everyday.  If someday you ever feel like are falling apart, remember that it doesn’t matter where I am, how I am or what I am doing, you won’t the first in my mind, you will be the only one!

“The best love is the kind that awakens the soul and makes us reach for more, that plants a fire in our hearts and brings peace to our minds. And that's what you've given me. That's what I'd hoped to give you forever” 

love,

Milla.

[afteriwake]

Alternate Beginnings, Alternate Endings, Alternate Universes (1/5 - An “Adventures In Unexpected Places” Story)

So this is another oldie but goodie that I finished, that I had started ages ago back when I was on LJ, I think, for @fadeddreaming. I’m planning on writing more in this series as I think of differences between the canon DW universe and what I think could happen here, but at least this first story is done!

Alternate Beginnings, Alternate Endings, Alternate Universes - After being sent to the worst school in the whole of England, Amy meets up with the man whose fault it is that she’s there, and things go vastly more differently than anyone expected.

READ CHAPTER 1 | SERIES PAGE | HELP ME SURVIVE? | COMMISSION ME? | BUY ME A KOFI?

2001

Her aunt hadn’t even had the decency to take her. At least she hadn’t had to go alone; when Aunt Sharon made the decree that she was going to send her off to St. Trinian’s, Mels had decided to go as well. “After all, can’t send my best mate off to the madhouse alone,” was what Mels had said. And the school’s reputation fit right up Mels’ alley, but Amy’s? Not so much.

The driver wouldn’t even take them to the front door, not even when Mels offered to double the fare, and then triple it. “Last time it was eggs, and they baked on. Took days to scrape them off,” he said, stopping just outside the grounds. So they hoofed it.

“I heard the place is full of hellions,” Amy said nervously. “Girls that can’t be controlled and all that.”

Mels made a scoffing sound. “They can’t be that bad. And besides, I’m tough, you’re tough. We’ll hold our own.”

“I hope you’re right.”

They were maybe a quarter mile up the drive when Mels stopped her. “We’re being watched,” she said, pointing up to a tree. Amy looked up and saw a girl with camouflage face paint and binoculars. “Oi, you there!”

The girl was so surprised she almost fell out of the tree. “Yeah?” she said warily, lowering her binoculars.

“Why are you spying on us, eh? We’re just new students.”

Her eyes went wide. “You’re the new students?” she said. “I thought you were trespassers.”

“No, we’re new here,” Amy said. “I’m Amelia Pond, and this is Melody Sinclair.”

The girl plucked something out of the bag she had round her shoulder. “Oy!” she said into the walkie talkie. “Do we let them pass?”

“You damn well better let us pass,” Mels said loudly.

“You’re supposed to give ‘em hell,” came the reply from the walkie talkie.

“Toss that down here,” Mels said, dropping her stuff on the ground and going to the tree, and after a moment Amy did the same. “Amy here can climb that tree pretty fast, and we’ll just take it from you if you don’t. You may stay up in the tree, you may not.” The girl paused, and Amy got up to the trunk, grabbed the nearest branch and pulled herself up. The girl yelped, and then dropped the walkie talkie down to Mels. “Listen up, whoever you are. You won’t molest us as we get to the school. So any shenanigans you have planned, scrap them. Anything happens to me or Amy and I’ll unleash holy hell on your head.”

There was a long pause. “We’ll pass the word,” came the cowed reply as Amy dropped back down to the ground.

“We’ll be taking this with us,” Amy said. “What’s your name, anyway?”

“Jones. Kelly Jones. I’m a first year,” she said.

“Anything happens to us, you’re the first one we’re coming after,” Mels said, going back to her stuff.

“Have a nice day,” Amy added as she went back to hers. They gathered their belongings and started walking towards the school again. “You really think they’ll leave us alone?” she asked.

“The fact that we threatened them should give us safe passage till we get to the school. After that, we’re fair game. Just remember not to show any fear or weakness. We’re fresh meat to them.” She smiled at her friend. “We’ll just keep each other’s back, that’s all.” Then her smile faltered. “Just don’t talk about the Doctor.”

“I knew that,” Amy said, rolling her eyes. “What do you think got me sent here in the first place, Mels?”

“Maybe it will be a good thing, in the end,” she said. “If we can survive our last few years of school at this place, we can do anything.”

“Yeah,” she said with a sigh.

“What is it?” Mels asked, stopping.

“I hate to say it, but I miss…Rory,” she said thoughtfully, almost whispering his name. “It won’t be the same not having him around. It’s been the three of us, all through school. And he’s in Leadworth and we’re here.”

“There’s always holidays,” she pointed out. “I can pony up the money for you to go back and see him if your aunt won’t.”

“It’s not like he’s my boyfriend,” she said defensively. “He’s just a friend.”

“Sure,” Mels said. “I believe you.”

“Well, he is,” she replied.

“He’s head over heels for you. Has been since you were little. Probably had been since before I moved into town.”

“Rory? Really?” Amy said, her eyes wide.

“Honest to God,” Mels replied with a nod.

Amy reached over and punched her shoulder. “Why are you just telling me now, Mels? Maybe I could have had a long distance boyfriend. It would have made me cool. Or feel cool, at any rate.”

“It’s not as though you’re an old maid,” Mels teased. “Write him a letter or something. Tell him you want to be long distance mates, see where it goes from there. There’s always end of year break. And Christmas.”

“Aunt Sharon doesn’t want me around,” Amy said glumly. “That’s why I’m here, remember?”

“Hey, you can always stay with me,” she said.

“If your parents don’t kill me for you coming here,” she said.

“Amy, hate to break it to you, but I was supposed to come here a year ago,” she said. “I had to behave in order to not go. Do you know how hard it is to behave in Leadworth? At least here I’ll be able to cut loose.” Then she nudged her friend. “We’ll make it work here, you’ll see. You and me, we’ll be large and in charge, you hear me?”

“How do you suppose we’ll make that happen?”

“Easy. I’ll beat everyone into submission and you put those looks and brains to work. We’ll be fine.”

They chatted the rest of the way up, and made it to the main hall where a tall blonde woman was waiting. “Well, you must be the girls who put the scare into the first years. Welcome to St. Trinian’s. I’m Camilla Fritton, headmistress. Now, which of you is Amelia and which of you is Melody?”

“I’m Amelia,” Amy said.

“I find your aunt’s behavior in not seeing you here herself deplorable. We had matters to discuss,” she replied. “Nonetheless, we can arrange to take care of the business through other means. I see you got your uniforms, good. You’ll find our dress code is a little…lax. We’re all for individuality here.” She motioned for the girls to follow her, and they did. “Now normally we would house you with the rest of the girls but we’re a little short on beds, and two unexpected students two months after term started has caused us a bit of trouble in the sleeping arrangements. For now you will be bunking in the unused English classroom. We should have beds in the next week, after it’s seen if Rachelle and Rebecca decide to stay or if their parents send them off to military school in the States instead.”

“Excuse me, ma’am?” Mels asked.

“Yes, dear?” Camilla replied, turning around.

“What’s the policy on retaliation? In case the first years want to get on us for foiling their scheme?”

“Don’t get caught,” Camilla said with a smile. “Now then, let me introduce you to our Head Girl, Millicent Jameson.” They saw an attractive blonde lounging in a doorway. “She’d have been a Posh Totty but she had a few more brains than most of them, I’m afraid. Had to make her own way in this school, lovely girl, and she ended up Head Girl.”

“So these are the girls who stood up to the first years?” she asked with a melodic, almost sing-song voice.

“They are indeed.”

“Excellent,” she said with a smile. “I’m always encouraging people to give it to the first years. This crowd is especially rowdy. Let me continue the tour. Would you like to put your things away?”

“I’m not putting my stuff away until I’m sure no one’s coming after it,” Amy said, tightening her hold on her duffel bag.

“Tough and smart,” Camilla murmured with a smile. “I think you two will do nicely here,” she added, raising her voice. “Carry on, Millicent.”

“Right,” Millicent said. “Now, if you two will follow me…” The tour went quickly, and the more Amelia saw of the school the more she dreaded attending it. She slipped away when they got to the art classroom and went towards where she assumed Camilla’s office was. She knocked lightly at the door, then waited a moment and put her ear to the door.

“What are you doing?” Mels whispered from behind her, and she jumped a bit.

“I don’t want to be here,” Amy whispered back. “I’m going to tell her to convince Aunt Sharon to let me come home.”

“Well, skulking at the door isn’t going to do it,” Mels said, opening the door.

“…and I’ve got to get back!” a man was saying. Amy looked at him, and he looked at her, and they both yelped in surprise. “Oh. Hello there. This isn’t what it looks like, I swear.”

“You!” Amy said, her eyes narrowing at the Doctor, still in his tattered shirt and pants.

He had a confused look on his face, and then when it hit him who this girl was both his eyes and mouth widened. “Amelia?” he asked cautiously.

“You promised you’d come back!” Amy yelled at the man in front of her. “I waited outside all night for you!”

“I take it you two know each other,” Camilla said with an arched eyebrow, taking a sip from her cup.

“This is the girl I was telling you about,” he replied. “Amelia Pond. But…how did you get big? I’ve only been gone five minutes.”

“Try five years,” Amelia growled. “Five years, four psychiatrists, and a transfer.”

“She’s one of our newest students,” Camilla said.

“That’s the Doctor?” Mels asked.

“Yeah, that’s the lying bloke who caused me all the trouble,” Amy said, crossing her arms and glaring at him. “You were supposed to come back that night and take me on an adventure!”

“And it’s only been five minutes!” the Doctor exclaimed.

“Five years,” Amy said, getting closer.

“I believe you owe her an adventure,” Camilla said.

“Yeah. She waited!” Mels said.

“It’s still not quite right,” he replied. “It just crash-landed in Camilla’s office by mistake. See?” He pointed to where there had been a desk, and she saw the blue police box sitting on it. “It’s not safe enough to take you girls anywhere.”

“Where did you girls get—“ Millicent said from outside. “Oh!” she replied when she saw what was going on. “What on Earth is going on here?”

“Business,” Camilla said, waving her hand. “Why don’t you leave the girls here? This business concerns them.”

“All right then,” Millicent replied, shutting the door behind her.

“Well then,” Camilla said. “What do you need to fix your TARDIS so you can take young Miss Amelia on the adventure you owe her?”

“Parts from your garage,” he replied.

“I’m afraid I can’t let you get them yourself,” Camilla said, standing up. “Write out what you need and I shall go get them for you.” He dashed into the TARDIS, and emerged with three pieces of machinery. “I shall be back in a jiff. You should work this out before anyone else interrupts.” And with that, Camilla left.

“I swear, it was only five minutes ago that I left you,” he explained to Amy.

“And how do I know you’re not lying?” she asked.

He produced the apple she had carved for him and tossed it to her. She caught it, and ran her fingers over it. “You just did that less than a half hour ago. See? It isn’t even brown yet.”

She looked at it, her eyes widening, and then she smiled. “You aren’t lying!”

“I wouldn’t lie to you, Amelia,” he said. “And who is your friend?”

“Melody,” Mels said, going over to him. “You don’t look a lot like her drawings. You look much more delicious.”

“Mels,” Amy said, rolling her eyes. “She and Rory are the only people who believe me when I say you exist. Everyone else thinks I’m a bit daft,” she added, circling her finger around her ear. “But you’re real! You’re really real!”

“And as soon as I get the TARDIS fixed I’ll take you on an adventure,” he said. “You’ll be good here. I know the school has a reputation, but Camilla loves every girl here and she’ll make sure you come to no harm.”

“But she can’t protect us from the girls all the time,” Mels pointed out.

“But she won’t need to,” the Doctor replied. “I’ll make sure you stay safe. I answer calls. Not always right on time, but soon enough. Camilla has the number.”

“Can I go on the adventure?” Mels asked slowly.

“Yeah, can she?”

“I don’t see why not,” he replied. The two girls gave each other high fives. “As soon as I get the old girl fixed, I’ll pick you up tonight on the roof. I’m sure two enterprising young girls can find your way up there. What year is it?”

“2001,” Amy replied. “Five years, remember?”

“Five years, right, right,” he said with a nod. “Tonight, on the roof, at seven.”

“Seven it is. And if you’re not there we’ll beat you up,” Amy said.

“Then I’ll definitely not be late,” he replied. “So, what all has happened in five years?”

The three of them chatted until Camilla brought back the needed supplies. The Doctor took them, thanked her, told her about the promise for that evening and took off. Amy watched the TARDIS dematerialize and turned to Camilla. “How do you know him?”

“He’s a friend of the family,” she said. “So long as a Fritton has run this academy, he’s been there. My mother, bless her, introduced us when I was but a child. He looked different then, and has changed many times since I’ve known him, but he’s still the same man. A bit daft at times, but solid as a rock.” She smiled at them. “Now. Why don’t you get settled in? I will let it be known, through my own sources, that you two are to be…untouched…by those with more power than you.”

“Won’t that just make us bigger targets?”

“Not when I’m done,” she said. “Now go on. You still have classes to attend.”

The two girls picked up their things and stepped out into the hallway, talking excitedly. They stashed their things and made their way to what their first class was supposed to be. It was hard to get through the day, but the other girls left them alone. Kelly had come up to them at dinner and asked if they really knew The Doctor, like it was some rare thing. When Amy said she did, she squealed with delight and asked to know all the details. Other girls came around, and Amy told them the story of how he had crashed into her shed five years ago.

It seemed as though the girls in the school knew of him, and if he asked to meet you it was a real honor. All the Head Girls got one adventure with him, right before graduation. It was tradition. And they were getting an adventure on their first day! Everyone made them promise to tell them all about it, and the girls were accepted, just like that.

As seven o’clock neared, Amy and Mels made their way to the roof. Millicent went with them, just to be sure they were okay, and then left them alone as the clock struck seven. And then it appeared, the blue police box, and out stepped the Doctor, dressed all differently. He was wearing a tweed jacket, a white shirt, brown pants, suspenders and a bow tie. “You look odd,” Amy said.

“Not nearly as delicious as before,” Mels said.

“Well, you’re too young to be having those kinds of thoughts,” he said. “So I traveled a little forward in time, took care of a problem in Leadworth, checked on a few things…and made it back here at seven on the nose.” He grinned at them and they grinned back. “Now, then. Would you like to see my home?”

“Yes!” they said simultaneously. He moved to the side and motioned for them to come in. They went inside and both of their eyes went wide. “It’s bigger,” Mels breathed.

“Of course it is,” Amy said, rolling her eyes and scoffing slightly. “How else would a swimming pool fit in the library?”

“Well, girls,” he said, and they turned to him. “All of time and space, everywhere and anywhere, every star that ever was. Where do you want to start?"

They looked at each other. “The future!” they chorused.

“The future it is, then!” he said, going to the controls. “Girls, hold on tight. 2012, here we come!”