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argylemnwrites · 4 years ago

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Fight or Flight - Chapter 14: Help

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Heir (canon divergent from the end of book 2)

Word Count: ~4100

Rating: R (language, 30 diamond scene)

Summary: About three weeks since The Walker Absconding

Author’s Note: With my state surging so badly that the CDC had to come up with a new category for coronavirus monitoring, and my hospital group changing policy constantly, even the illusion of an update schedule is pretty much out the window at this point, so thank you to all of you who are still sticking with this series! I saw that in canon, our crew just now decided to go on the run, but my MC and Drake have been on the lam for a while at this point, hahaha, so thanks for going on this wild ride with them!

This series follows the Walkers, their friends, and Cordonia as a whole after they flee the country with their daughter during Barthelemy Beaumont’s attempted coup. To catch up on this series, check out it’s masterlist. (link can be found via my bio - sorry, Tumblr is once again not putting my posts with links in tag searches)

Olivia let out a sigh as the privacy divider in her town car finally finished closing, tipping her head back and tugging the pins out of her hair. “God, what a nightmare.”

Liam hummed in agreement. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay at the palace tonight? It might be good optics, keeping you in the thick of things since the social season just started.”

He shook his head as he shifted slightly next to her. “After Hana’s conversation with Kiara and all its revelations, we need to be able to discuss things openly. With everything that has already happened, I don’t trust my assigned quarters at the palace to not be bugged.”

All Olivia could do was let out a little shrug. She knew he had a point, but she was worried about his overall approach here. All the strategizing and discussing in the world wouldn’t matter if he didn’t maintain an image of strength and dependability. Trotting back to the seclusion of Lythikos consistently would absolutely weaken the perception others had of him.

“So, I think we can safely assume that Amalas knows about this alliance between Barthelemy and Auvernal. It would explain why she was so eager to strike a deal with us,” Liam continued, reaching up and loosening his tie as he stretched his neck.

“But why would Aurvernal agree to work with Barthelemy? He wasn’t exactly supportive of them when they were trying to force Drake and Riley to solidify the betrothal. Hell, he used that mess to argue against their suitability to raise Bridget.”

Liam frowned, his eyes dropping to his lap for just a moment. “The latter part of your statement I can see him spinning over the coming months. He can argue that he has met with neighboring leaders and struck more beneficial alliance terms than I was ever able to foster, making him better suited for the role of monarch. With the delay in the start of the social season, he’ll have plenty of time to sell it as believable.”

“We had to push Rashad to delay. Hana told us that we need to make sure-”

“-Kiara represents House Theron, I know. It’s just unfortunate the delay may also be desirable for Barthelemy’s camp as well as ours. It would be nice to catch a break for once.”

“Liam…”

He ignored her attempt at sympathy. “Oh well, that’s just the reality isn’t it? We need to figure out how Auvernal played into Landon’s decision. Have you been able to buy off any of their staff?”

Olivia shook her head. “Not yet. I have a couple of leads on a maid and a driver who might be loyal to you, though.”

“That’s something, I suppose. I guess we should probably try and gain some intelligence about the motives of Bradshaw and Isabella as well, shouldn’t we?” He sounded tired, his hands working to remove his cufflinks.

“Yeah, we definitely need to hit this from multiple angles, find out their goal and what they might have done to sway not only Landon, but Hakim and Adelaide. Barthelemy is absolutely going to challenge Bertrand for control of House Beaumont, so we need to gain at least two of those votes. Counting on keeping the Beaumont vote in our camp is just too… dicey at this point, don’t you think?”

Liam nodded, but didn’t seem to want to say anything, so Olivia just kept going. “Now, I think since it’ll be Kiara voting, and she’s been very willing to divulge things to Hana, that is probably our best bet. And I know I’ve been focusing on getting some dirt on Landon and Emmeline, but maybe Adelaide would be the easier pick up? She’s never had much interest in actual politics, so maybe if we had Maxwell just socialize with her repeatedly at the upcoming events, that might be enough? For whatever reason she’s always loved him.”

She glanced over, surprised to find Liam with his eyes closed, his head tipped back. Had he fallen asleep that quickly?

“Liam?” she hissed out.

“I’m still listening; I promise you I’m not asleep.”

“Do you have anything to add?”

He shook his head against the back of the seat without opening his eyes. “No, you seem to have things under control.”

“But, I was-”

“-I trust you, Olivia.”

His words should have been affirming and confidence boosting, but instead all she felt was fear. He should be more invested than this. He needed to be more invested than this. And honestly, she was sure he knew that fact. He would go through the motions of strategizing with her on a regular basis. But he always faded quickly, becoming distracted or introspective. He was ruminating instead of focusing and channeling that hurt and pain into something productive.

But that wasn’t going to stop tonight. It was very late, and the drive back to Lythikos was a long one. So, Olivia just let him rest, pulling out her burner phone and scanning for any news bulletins about the Walkers being found in Athens, letting out a small sigh of relief when she found none. It looked like Leo and Riley had managed to pull it off. Combine that with Hana’s intel, and she knew the night had been more successful than not. She just needed Liam to start to see things that way. Otherwise, the upcoming months were going to be even bleaker than anticipated.

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

Riley kept her head down as she shuffled past a man in the hallway. With two large duffels, it was a bit awkward, and she didn't want the man to remember anything about her other than the fact that it was a bit of a tight fit with all her luggage.

Once he was out of sight, she unlocked the door to their hotel room, opening it as narrowly as possible to slide into the room. She had barely closed and locked the door when she felt a pair of familiar strong arms engulfing her. She dropped the duffel bags to the ground and spun in his embrace, wrapping her arms around his back.

"You're back," Drake murmured into her hair. She could feel his chest rising and falling rapidly, his whole body practically trembling. "You were late, and I thought…"

"Leo was almost an hour late," she said, her voice somewhat muffled by his chest because of how closely he was holding her. "I wanted to text you, but-"

"No, you made the right call." They had decided early on to avoid using their new phones to contact each other if at all possible. That way, if one of them got picked up and taken into custody, the other wouldn't be instantly traceable. It meant a lot of anxiety and fear when they weren't together, though. "I just… I… I was worried that…" Drake kept trailing off, almost as if he was unable to say his fears out loud.

"I know, Drake. I know. But it's okay. It all went okay." She slid her hands up, tracing between his shoulder blades, running her fingers through his hair, trying to soothe both him and herself. To call tonight stressful was a mad understatement.

“Leo had our stuff?”

She nodded against his chest. “In his hotel room. I obviously didn’t take the time to dig through it all, but I saw toys, clothing, documents, money.”

Drake ran his hands through her hair, then loosened his hold on her enough to lean back and look her in the eyes. “Did anyone… were you...”

“I don’t think anyone noticed me, Drake.”

He let out a shuddering breath, and then he was kissing her. Not some gentle, tender peck, but hard and deep. Like he used to kiss her when they were alone. Before she turned their lives upside down.

She missed this. She knew it was stupid. They were wanted fugitives and barely getting by in a foreign country. They were hungry and stressed and sleep-deprived. On top of that, they shared one room with their soon-to-be 11 month old daughter, so they had no privacy. Their sex life was far from their most pressing concern.

But… she still missed it, that sense of shared connection and intimacy, and that encompassed more than just the sex. She honestly felt like his teammate or coworker more than his wife far too often. They just spent so much time on the practical, discussing next steps, trying to arrange logistics. Moments of shared laughter and warmth were few and far between these days. And sure, they didn't really have much to laugh about, but it was still a loss.

When she’d sat on his lap yesterday after dyeing her hair, it almost felt like a sliver of their old life and dynamic was back. She’d teased him, he’d held her close. But moments like that were just not the norm for them anymore. Most of the time, even any physical affection was more focused on comfort in light of something negative. Holding hands, hugs, that sort of thing seemed to only happen when their world felt like it was crumbling around them. It’s like they shared nothing but worry and fear most of the time.

There was also the fact that Drake hadn't opened up to her about his own emotions. She knew him. She knew that his fractured relationship with Liam must be weighing on him, that he must feel mad guilty about so many things. But he wasn't telling her anything. He hadn't kept things from her like this in years, and it honestly scared the shit out of her. At first, she thought he was just trying to shield her from his own pain. She knew that her initial panic had probably sent him into hyper-protective mode. But that was weeks ago. She was pretty sure she was holding it together better now. At the very least, she didn't think she was a walking mess anymore.

But Drake was definitely still keeping everything bottled up, and she had to wonder if that was in part because he didn't trust her. Whether it was because her initial panic had meant that she had not considered him enough or because he resented her decision to take Bridget out of Cordonia and away from their entire support system or because he couldn't help but see her as the reason he was named a traitor she had no idea. And maybe he was still just trying to shield her from his own worries and anxieties, but the fear was there that in her efforts to protect her kid, she was slowly losing her husband.

While Drake was off busting his ass to keep their family afloat, she'd had a lot of time to think, and she knew that wasn't helpful. When Bridget was awake, playing with her kept her mind off of those awful thoughts, but they kept creeping back in when she napped and slept. There was only so long that playing Dopey Cat could provide a distraction, after all. So instead she wondered endlessly if she had only been able to keep Bridget by her side at the cost of the foundation of her marriage.

For so many years, those fears of never mattering enough to someone else, of always ending up alone in the end had led her to keep relationships superficial. She’d avoided vulnerability, and therefore pain, at all costs. But then she came to Cordonia, and she had Drake, Hana, Maxwell, and Liam. She’d come to trust and feel and it was beyond anything younger her could have ever dreamed up. But now she’d ruined things with Liam, was disconnected from Hana and Maxwell, and it seemed all too likely she’d damaged things with Drake, too. All those people, who actually cared about her. She’d made a mess of the best parts of her life.

And maybe she was overreacting. Drake still clearly loved and cared about her. Worried about her constantly, in all honesty. But she also worried that he was gradually pulling away from her, that some day would creep up on them where all they would share would be concern for Bridget. But tonight, after all the stress and anxiety and fears of the evening, he was kissing her like he wanted her, like he loved her, and she couldn’t get enough of it.

She let out a pathetically needy moan, the sort of noise that would usually draw a smirk and some teasing from Drake. But tonight, he didn’t. Instead, he just surged forward with a groan of his own, driving her back into the wall and hooking his hands around her thighs, hoisting her up onto his waist before she could even process what was going on.

Riley clawed her fingers into his shoulders, dropping her head back against the wall as he moved his lips across her jaw. She began rocking her hips against him, tilting her head to the side as he worked his way down her neck, biting down lightly as he went. She tugged at his t-shirt, and after a few moments, he finally got the hint, sliding his hands out from under her thighs, letting her drop to the floor as he pulled off his shirt.

Deep down, Riley knew they had a lot they still needed to talk about and that doing this wasn’t going to fix the ache that had been growing in her heart, day by day. But she also knew that after weeks of stress and the horrible possibilities about tonight that had been running through both their minds, maybe this was just something they really needed. So she scrambled to tug off her shirt and jeans, kicking her sandals somewhere towards the door as Drake unbuckled his pants, and in almost no time they were both adding their underwear to the pile of clothing on the floor.

They were back on each other in an instant, hands grabbing and stroking, mouths everywhere. Riley felt her feet leaving the floor, so she wrapped her legs around Drake’s waist as he held her under her thighs, slamming her back against the wall. And then he was sinking into her, dropping his head to her shoulder to muffle the groan he let out as he did so.

It was all quick and frantic, both of them thrusting against each other wildly. She could sense that Drake was just as desperate as her. Desperate to feel something besides anxiety and guilt and pain. She knew she was going to have bruises from his fingers with how tightly he was clutching her thighs, but she didn’t care. Hell, she wondered how badly she was scratching his back. None of that mattered.

She hissed out his name as his lips latched back onto her neck. She knew this was going to be quick, so as she slid one hand up to his neck, tugging on his hair, she also dropped her other hand down between them, letting her fingers trace circles right above where they were joined. It didn't take long before she felt a warmth spreading out, down her legs and up her back, and then she was gone. Drake must have felt her climax, because he muttered "Fuck" into the skin of her neck, only driving into her a couple more times before she felt him spilling inside her. He slumped against the wall, his weight the only thing keeping her from sliding to the floor.

After a few moments, Drake let out a sigh, placing his hands back on her thighs and easing her down as he took a step back. “You okay?” he asked, his head slightly downturned.

Riley closed the newly-created gap between them, stepping forward and sliding a hand up to his cheek. “Drake, I’m fine. Are… are you okay?”

He nodded, tugging her into a gentle hug. “I just… I think I…”

“It’s okay, Drake. I get it.” She didn’t like that he still apparently couldn’t talk to her, but if he’d needed a minute of physical comfort and reprieve, well that was pretty fucking understandable. So she didn’t push him, just joined him in getting cleaned up and dressed in a t-shirt and underwear. While Drake washed the day’s clothes in the bathroom, she checked on Bridget, passed out in the travel crib Drake had picked up a few weeks back. They hadn’t used it to this point, and Riley wondered why Drake had dug it out of the car tonight. It had been safely tucked away with the tent, sleeping bags, and ground pad since he bought it.

“I thought we should probably start trying to get her used to it.” Drake’s voice cut through the room, startling Riley and answering the question she never got a chance to ask. “We are looking at months of being on the run. We need to start… I don’t know, making things… stable for her, I guess.”

“Makes sense,” said Riley, giving her daughter one last look before turning around to face Drake. “How did she handle bedtime?”

He grimaced and shook his head. “I think she was scared or upset because you weren’t here. She was basically inconsolable. I contemplated taking her on a drive just to calm her down. I kind of figured the night couldn’t get any worse, so I might as well try the crib. She screamed for about an hour before she wore herself out.”

Riley walked over and wrapped her arms around Drake. He struggled more with the sleep training than she did, even if he talked a way bigger game about letting Bridget “cry it out” in the light of day. “Well, she’s asleep now at least.”

Drake nodded, running a hand up and down her back. “You ready to go through the bags?”

She nodded and gave him a little smile, sitting down on the end of the bed as Drake grabbed the duffels and brought them over. They slowly worked their way through them, item by item. Hana had included so many useful things, from the practical, like clothes appropriate for a variety of types of weather and spare contact lenses and Riley’s glasses, to the unessential but truly missed, like Bridget’s stuffed corgi and Riley’s good hair brush. There was a lot of money in there, too. Thousands of Euros, which probably wouldn’t be enough to get them all the way until January, but at least made their situation a lot less dire. Their passports and birth certificates were tucked in there as well. For the first time, it felt like they might have some options when it came to their next steps.

After twenty minutes or so of sorting and unpacking, they reached the bottom of the bags. There were a handful of framed photos. Riley hadn’t mentioned any pictures as being something they wanted, so this must have been Hana’s idea. There were a couple that had been displayed in their bedroom and den. A candid Maxwell took on their wedding reception, Drake sitting down as Riley stood behind him, her arms looped over his shoulders, both of them looking at each other with stupid, cheesy grins on their faces. The two of them with Savannah, Bertrand, and Bartie taken down in Texas, the day before the wedding. A photo of the three of them that Hana had taken in the privacy of their home the day after the anointing with them in casual clothing, just curled up on the couch holding Bridget, a stark contrast from the pomp of the formal portrait for the history books and press release the day before. There were a couple of new ones, too. The corgis snuggled together on their massive cushion in the den. Hana and Maxwell grinning with arms thrown over each other's shoulders, clearly a selfie taken by Maxwell at a formal event. Liam and Olivia sitting on a couch at what appeared to be the Lythikos keep, Olivia with an eyebrow raised, Liam with a hollow-looking smile.

Riley glanced over at Drake, unsure how these photos would affect him. He just swallowed roughly before placing the stack of photos he was holding on the bed next to him. Riley leaned into him, resting her head against his shoulder. They were both silent for a few moments until Drake finally spoke.

“Was that everything?”

Riley shook her head. “No, there’s a letter. At least I assume that’s what it is. It’s an envelope with Hana’s writing.”

Drake didn’t say anything, so after a few seconds, Riley leaned forward, grabbing the envelope with “Riley & Drake” looped in beautiful cursive sitting at the bottom of one of the duffels. She slid her finger under the flap and pulled out a sheet of stationary with delicate pink and cream flowers in the corners. She held it between them so that Drake could read it at the same time.

Riley and Drake,

I hope that you and Bridget are all doing well and in as good of spirits as the circumstances will allow. I can only imagine how incredibly difficult this must be for you.

In these bags, I’ve included the items you mentioned as well as a few more toys for Bridget and pieces of clothing that I thought would be suitable for when the weather gets colder. I know it isn’t much, but hopefully this will make your lives just a little more comfortable.

I also sent some pictures I thought you might like to have, both old and new. Whenever things get tough, just remember that you have people who love you and want the best for you and your family.

While this is probably the furthest thing from your mind, I want to assure you that I am not taking my position as Duchess of Valtoria lightly. I am setting up citizen meetings for the upcoming weeks. Judging by the protests outside of the estate, you have a lot of support still here, and when this is all resolved, I will step down if you would like to rightfully reclaim your titles.

I love and miss you both, and tell Bridget that Aunt Hana misses her, too. Maxwell said I should include paw prints from Anderson, Vera, Ellis, and Ilsa, but for the sake of the staff who would need to clean up that mess, I will just settle on saying they clearly miss you as well.

Keep safe, Hana

Riley twisted to look at Drake. She knew he would already be done since he was a faster reader than her. His face was very still as he stared over at Bridget’s crib.

“Drake?”

He jerked his head over to look at her, giving her a very empty smile as he did so. “Your best friend is really something, huh?”

She frowned, trying to suss out how much she should read into that statement, but he kept his expression blank. When it became clear he wasn’t going to elaborate more, she settled on a light response, knowing he probably didn’t want to delve into things too deeply at this point. “She really is. But her assumption that we would be at all worried about our former titles is adorably naive.”

Drake let out a little snort of a chuckle, so Riley kept going. “Can you imagine us just rolling back to Valtoria after all of this and challenging Hana for the title?”

His smile became a little more genuine at that. “Well, being out of touch with reality is a common trait amongst the nobility. Maybe it would just be us finally catching up with the rest of them.”

She nudged him with her elbow. “Come on, let’s pack this stuff up and get some sleep.”

“Sounds like a plan, Walker.”

Riley stood up and offered a hand to Drake, tugging him to his feet as well. There was still a lot they needed to sort through and take care of, both practically and emotionally. She knew that. Even with everything given to them tonight, the months ahead were hardly going to be a cake walk, and she knew she would have to get Drake talking at some point. But for the first time in weeks, she felt true hope. Hope that they could make this work, that they weren’t two seconds away from failing their daughter and each other, that they were moving forward. And for tonight, that felt like enough.

Perma: @walkerswhiskeygirl @octobereighth @kimmiedoo5 @mom2000aggie

TRR/TRH: @iaminlovewithtrr @mskaneko @axwalker @jovialyouthmusic @marshmallowsandfire @kingliam2019 @sirbeepsalot @texaskitten30 @princessleac1 @ladyangel70 @debramcg1106 @masterofbluff @sarahx206

Drake/MC: @no-one-u-know @iplaydrake

FoF: @burnsoslow @bobasheebaby

#drake walker #drake x mc #trh au #trh fanfic #trh au fanfic #choices fanfiction #trh #the royal heir #king liam #olivia nevrakis #n*fw #30 diamonds

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flamehairedwritings · 4 years ago

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The Fiancé: Chapter Eight

Characters: Steve Rogers x Female Plus-Size Reader

Rating: The whole series will be E, 18+ ONLY

Summary: A lie about your best friend at a Christmas party spirals into world news, but a previously unknown threat leaves you having to now live the lie of Steve Rogers being your fiancé.

Originally based on the prompt ‘Character A’s ex will be at the Christmas Party A is attending. Character B poses as A’s fiancé,’ by @alloftheprompts.

A/N: The whole series will include swearing, alcohol, threat, violence, apartment sharing, protected sex, and more tags to be added!

The Fiancé Masterlist

All Works Masterlist

Read on AO3

Please don’t copy or steal my work, and please don’t post it on any other sites; credit does not count.

—

Time Will Take It’s Toll

FRIDAY

You’re awake before your alarm goes off. Turning it off, your hands return to your stomach, your eyes back to the ceiling.

It’s the second to last day.

The penultimate day.

All that lies between you and whatever happens after this is tomorrow.

Well, at least today’s going to be relaxing, somewhat.

You hope.

Who knows what the day brings anymore.

By the time you’re dressed and ready and heading downstairs, you know Steve’s already gone. Nat is the only person who greets you in the kitchen, surprising you with a soft smile.

“Morning.”

“Hey.” You start to make yourself a drink, feeling her eyes on you.

There’s silence for a few minutes, and it’s not until you turn to her that she speaks.

“I didn’t want you to know about the letters.”

You’re already shaking your head. “It’s fine, Nat, we can leave it—”

“I don’t want you to be mad at Steve—”

Your gaze darts to her, your brow dipping. “I’m not mad at Steve.”

She pauses for a beat. “You’re not?”

“No, I—” You set your mug down, your heart dropping as you look at her. “... Does he think I’m mad at him?”

Her tongue runs along her lower lip as she clasps her hands together on the island. “Well, from what I heard you weren’t... happy.”

Your shoulders slump as you sigh, feeling a lump form in your throat. “I’m not mad at him,” you say quietly.

“It’s okay if you are, Y/N—”

Your eyes close as you shake your head. “No, no, really, I’m not.” You look at her again as you bite at your lower lip. “I was just... I don’t know what I was. I didn’t know what to feel.”

She nods after a moment, her soft smile returning. “Well, that’s understandable.” She pauses for a moment. “I want you to remember, Y/N, that we’re doing this for you as well. We’re trying to find these people so we can keep you safe, too.”

You nod a few times, managing a smile. “Thank you.”

She exhales a gentle laugh. “You don’t need to thank any of us, Y/N. We want you safe and happy.”

You give a small laugh, too. “Well, that is your job, Romanoff.”

She looks at you, her smile lingering. “It is. But we care about you, too.”

That lump in your throat feels harder to shift.

Sitting back, her smile widens a little more. “Let Bridget and Dolly know we’re gonna set off in five minutes to pick them up.”

You nod as you clear your throat, pulling your phone from your pocket as she slides off of her stool. You pause, though, then look up at her.

“Nat?”

“Hm?” She turns to you, an eyebrow arched.

You open your mouth, then close it. “... What else did Steve say?”

She’s silent for a few moments, then a corner of her mouth lifts. “That he had a good day.”

—

Bridget had stayed over at Dolly’s the previous night, so you and Nat pick them up from her’s, both of them waiting in the foyer of her building.

They both hug you once they get in the car, squeezing you tightly and making the lump return to your throat. They ask how you are, and even though it’s only been a day you suddenly remember that the last time they’d seen you in person, you’d just been attacked. So you smile and laugh with them as they tell you about their days and how work is, your stomach twisting slightly at the normality of them.

I miss that.

When Nat drops the three of you off at The Pearl, you’re greeted like old friends, and it feels like a haven from the outside world, everything you’ve learned, and the crowd that’s already out the front. The jazzy Christmas is playing softly, the lights are twinkling, it’s empty, Sally and the assistants are attentive and friendly as usual, and they once again bring you a bottle of champagne, though you only take a few sips of your glass over the next hour and a half.

This had been fun the other day.

Now, staring in a mirror at yourself in a lace wedding dress, it just seems so trivial.

Someone had threatened your life. More than once. And he’d never said.

He’d protected you from that.

People are planning on killing him.

This would all be over in two days.

And you love Steve Rogers with all your heart.

An awful concoction of sadness and happiness is swirling inside you and you don’t know what to do. You don’t know what to do about anything but you have to do something because this is nearly over.

You don’t realise someone has been talking to you until Dolly gently touches your arm. Your head whips to her and you smile automatically.

“Sorry, what?”

There’s concern written all across her features, and, please, don’t...

“Y/N, are you okay?” she asks gently.

“Yeah, it just...” Oh, no. You can feel the tears coming. “... This is not how I expected it to be.”

“Oh, love...” Dolly's arms go around you as your features crumble.

You hear Sally quietly ushering the assistants away to give you space as Dolly guides you to the nearest couch, Bridget moving over swiftly to sit on the other side of you.

“This is just so hard,” you say, your voice cracking as you look down at your hands.

“I know, darling, I know,” Dolly murmurs soothingly as she rubs your back, Bridget taking one of your hands and holding it.

“I didn’t expect any of it to be like this.” You have to pause to let out a sob, feeling the tears slide down your cheeks. “I knew it was gonna be hard, I knew it was gonna be so fucking hard, but...”

You want to tell them. You want this secret to be gone, both secrets, all of the secrets you’ve had to keep, you want to be free of them, it’s too exhausting, too taxing—

“Yeah, but Steve’s worth it, isn’t he?” Bridget says gently. “You’re still happy to be with him?”

You look down at your hands, the engagement ring glinting on your left fourth finger.

Lifting your head, you look between both of them as the corners of your mouth lift. “... Yeah, I am.”

“Well, there you go,” Bridget smiles, rubbing your hand. “Hold on to that, babe.”

And you do for the rest of the day, which seems to pass by in a blur.

You just put on whatever’s given to you, drink and eat whatever’s put before you and smile at them all.

Steve is worth it.

Steve does make you happy.

But you dare to want more.

You dare to want more than a friendship.

So you’re going to tell him, you decide, when this is all over, you’re going to tell him how you feel, and then whatever happens... happens.

“Babe?”

You look over at Bridget, both of you now rifling through racks and racks of dresses to find something for you for tomorrow.

“Yeah?”

They’re quiet as they look at you for a moment, a small smile on their lips. “... You know if you... were having second thoughts, that Doll’ and I would be there for you, right? And support you no matter what?”

A soft smile pulls at your lips as you nod. “I know. I’ve always known that.”

I’ll call you in two days.

They nod, their own smile widening, and then they release a loud sigh. “Well, what’re we gonna put you in, huh? See anything you like?”

Blowing out a breath, you drop your hands from the dresses and shrug. “I don’t know, nothing’s really caught my eye, except...”

Their gaze darts to you as you pause, a smirk twitching at their lips.

“What’s going on in that brain?”

Meeting their gaze, you tilt your head, your smirk matching theirs.

“I know exactly what I want to wear.”

—

You squeeze them both tightly when you say goodbye, grateful, at least, that the next time you see them the truth will be out.

“Ooh, take photos of everything and have a good time and tell us every single detail,” Dolly beams as she squeezes you just as tight, rocking you slightly. “We’ll be watching the live-stream together, too.”

“Oh, God, there’s a live-stream?”

She lets out a laugh as she pulls back, tilting her head. “Just of the red carpet and people arriving, don’t worry.”

“Yeah, we’ll be cheering for you,” Bridget grins as they take your hand, squeezing it.

“Thanks, babes,” you smile, taking Dolly’s hand.

The three of you stand in a little circle, holding hands, and, yes, you know that whatever happens, you’ll always have their support and love.

“All right, go, get some rest,” Bridget says as they move backwards, not letting your hand go until both your arms are extended.

Your smile wider, your hands settle back at your sides as Dolly releases you, too, and you look at them both with a nod. “All right, I’ll message you both when I’m home. Love you both loads.”

“We love you, too, sugar.”

In the ride back to the penthouse, Nat goes over the schedule for tomorrow; drive to New York after breakfast, check into the hotel, stay there, get ready, be at the party for 8, stay for a couple of hours, then leave.

“What do you think’s going to happen?” you ask just as she finishes before you can stop yourself.

She glances at you. “What do you mean?”

You turn your head to look at her, playing with your hands in your lap. “At the party. Do you know who’s behind all this yet?”

She keeps her eyes on the road. “We’re working on it.”

That doesn’t exactly fill you with confidence, but you have to trust her and SHIELD.

Like the day before, when you arrive at the building she heads up in the elevator with you, not leaving until she sees you open the door and get in.

“Steve’s in there,” she murmurs to you before saying goodbye, and the last you see of her before the elevator doors close is a ghost of a smile at the corners of her mouth.

Tutting under your breath at her, if she didn’t secretly frighten you you’d always just ask her what she was smiling about, you close the door and kick your shoes off, blowing out a breath. Removing your coat and hanging it up, you then hesitate.

You can hear him in the kitchen, moving around quietly, opening a few cupboards and retrieving things.

Just go in there.

Moving down the short hallway, you pause before the archway to the kitchen, playing with the engagement ring, looking at him.

He’s in a navy, long-sleeved Henley, dark jeans, barefoot, hair a little dishevelled from where he’s probably run his fingers through it.

“Hey.”

Steve’s head lifts from where he’s placed a chopping board on the island, and the corners of his mouth lift.

“Hi.”

He stays where he is, leaning against the island, his gaze lingering on you, and you smile sheepishly.

“Uhm... I’m sorry for just walking away yesterday, that wasn’t very adult of me.”

He’s already shaking his head before you finish speaking, a corner of his mouth lifting higher. “You don’t need to apologise, Y/N. I don’t like keeping things from you but I didn’t want you to be frightened.”

“No, no, I understand.” You exhale a faint laugh. “Kind of wish I still didn’t know, but... thank you, for saying that.”

His features soften, his arms folding across his chest. “You’re welcome.”

Licking your lips, you hold his gaze. “And I’m... I’m not mad at you about it, either. I was just... surprised.”

His eyebrows raise a little, and after a moment his smile widens a touch. “Are you sure?”

You nod, relaxing as your own smile softens. “Yeah. That’s a difficult position to be in, you were just trying to look out for me.”

He’s silent for a few moments, looking at you, and you see his throat move slightly as he swallows. For some reason, the quiet and his gaze makes your cheeks heat.

You look away after another moment and smile widely, letting out a breath. “Well, tell Bucky and Nat they are very good at their jobs because I didn’t suspect a thing.”

He nods as his gaze drops, his lips lifting into a wide smile. “Yeah, yeah, I will do...”

You’re about to brightly suggest you both get on with making the dinner you’d planned, when his head lifts again and his smile falters somewhat.

“Y/N...”

Your eyebrows raise a moment later as he doesn’t continue. “Yeah?”

He takes a slight breath. “... This week has been weird, right? Between us? Kinda awkward? I’m not just imagining it, am I?”

You stare at him.

Then, a wide smile breaks across your features as you release a breath. He blinks, rather bemused as you lean against the island, a hand rubbing against your forehead.

“What? I am just imagining it, aren’t I?”

“No, no, no, no, no, oh my God...” You’re grinning now, shaking your head slightly as the tension your body has held all week leaves you. “... I’m so glad you said that, yes, yes, it has been.”

He laughs then, running a hand through his hair as relief washes over his features. “Oh, thank God, I thought it was just me—”

“God, absolutely not, I’m glad you’re the brave one and said it.”

He chuckles, folding his arms again as he sighs, and you feel like he’s let go of some tension, too. Shaking his head, his teeth graze over his lower lip briefly. “Good, and...” His gaze shifts to you. “This is a weird situation and I... I want us to still be us. After this, too.”

Fuck it, I’ll take that.

Your wide smile lingers as you nod. “Me, too, Steve.”

Grinning, he nods once, then straightens and claps his hands together. “All right, now that’s finally been God damn said, let’s get this dinner goin’, huh?”

Beaming, you straighten, too, your hands half-raised. “Right, what would you like me to do?”

Taking a knife from the stand, he uses it to point at his phone across the island. “You can put our playlist on and then help me cut all these vegetables up, I think I went a little over-board.”

“Well, you are a growing boy.”

Your lips twitch at his snort as you move behind him towards his phone.

God, you can’t describe it, but something has lifted from you, from him, from the very air, it’s wonderful.

Scooping his phone up, you know the code for it, so you press the button to illuminate his screen so you can unlock it and—

There’s a picture of you.

The picture you’d sent him.

Of you in the vintage-style dress.

It’s his lockscreen.

Glancing up at him, he’s too busy cutting vegetables up at a ridiculous speed to notice that you’ve paused. Your cheeks feel warm, your stomach has flipped and your chest has tightened slightly.

It could be for show, but... Why, when no one outside of this group would have a reason to look at his phone?

Anyway, no big deal. He wasn’t making a big deal out of it...

Maybe he’d forgotten...

Or maybe not...

Biting at your lower lip to hide a smile, you unlock it. As you connect it to a nearby speaker and then locate the playlist, you don’t notice him glancing up at you, a small smile pulling at his lips. As the first song starts to play, one of your very favourites, you meet each other’s gaze and grin, him moving his shoulders to it, you moving closer to him as you bop your head.

You don’t think you stop smiling for the next two hours.

You cook together, like you did when life was normal, and you laugh and grin and dance together, and you just can’t believe how right everything feels again.

After eating, as you wash up together, side-by-side, your cheeks and stomach hurt from how much you laugh together as you both sing along as best as you can to the song playing.

“This will be... an ever-lasting love...”

When you reach your favourite part, both of you barely able to hit the high-notes or match the speed, you can barely get through it.

“This will be, you and me, yes, siree, eternally, huggin' and squeezin' and kissin', and pleasin', together forever through rain or whatever! Yeah, yeah, yeah... Oh, my stomach hurts...!”

The original plan had been for you to watch a film together but, honestly, neither of you want to stop talking. It's the first time that week that you can both actually talk properly with no interruptions and no awkwardness, so at his suggestion, you move onto the balcony, taking blankets and drinks with you, and you sit in chairs, gazing out at the lights of the city.

He tells you about his day, how he and Sam went suit shopping and he spent most of the time just watching Sam try things on. He tells you about his Wednesday, when he and Bucky had gone out for their own drinks after training together and they’d found the quietest bar they could, though they’d still been followed, as per the plan.

And he tells you everything about the mission; how frustrated everyone at SHIELD is, how the three people they have in their custody aren’t giving anything up, how they can’t find any trace of them or their existence anywhere, how young they are, how obviously disillusioned with the world they are, how, when they do talk, they have an arrogance to them, a superiority, how Nat is barely sleeping, working day and night to personally profile anyone who has ever come into contact with either of you, of how many dead-ends she’s reached.

You listen quietly, wrapped up in a blanket, elbow on the armrest, your chin propped in your hand. Of course you’ve known there were things going on behind the scenes, but hearing it all now you truly appreciate the full magnitude of the operation.

And that they still have no idea who is really behind the threats.

He glances at you as he finishes, and gives a light smile. “Don’t worry, though, they’re workin’ on it and they’ve pulled in extra security for tomorrow.”

Your eyebrows shoot up as your lips twitch. “’Don’t worry’?” He laughs as you do, shaking your head. “Yeah, thanks, Steve, I’ll try that.”

“Oh, good, that should fix it all.” He raises his beer to his lips as his chuckles subside and so does your laughter.

Humming out a breath, you return your gaze to the view of the city, a smile lingering on your lips. Both of you are quiet for a few minutes, just enjoying the silence.

He’s the first one to speak, his eyes drifting to you. “We gotta pack up everything of ours before we go, by the way. After the party we’ll be dropped off back at our place. Our actual place, that is.”

You hum as your lips press together slightly, managing a slight smile. “They’re optimistic about tomorrow, then.”

“Yes, they are.” Looking over at him, he catches your gaze and smiles quickly. “The Avengers are gonna be there, though, aren’t they? What could go wrong.”

You snort, stretching your legs out as your smile softens. “Now that’s true, wow, I feel a thousand times better.” He chuckles as your eyes drift across the balcony. “So this is our last night here, then?”

“Yep. Back to unreliable heating we go.”

As he takes a sip of his drink, your eyes land on the pool.

A smile pulls at your lips.

“Well, then...”

Steve’s eyebrows raise as he watches you rise from your seat, pulling the blanket off and placing it on your chair.

“What?”

You look at him, your smile widening as you tilt your head and move backwards towards the pool. “How about a swim?”

“Oh no, what’re you doin’?” His own lips twitch as he watches you grin, heading towards the control panel opposite the closest side of the pool.

“Look, if we get to stay in a fucking nice place and this is our last night, then I get to use all the facilities.”

Placing a hand on your waist, you squint at the control panel, before pressing the button that says, ‘heat’. A gentle humming sound starts behind and you turn, smiling triumphantly.

Raising his beer bottle to his lips, Steve arches an eyebrow. “I didn’t bring my swim suit so.”

“Neither did I.”

He nearly chokes on the mouthful as he watches your hands go to the hem of your shirt.

Maybe it was the little alcohol you’d had with dinner, maybe it’s because you just really want to get in the pool, or maybe it’s because you feel so bloody relaxed, but you don’t care at all as you pull your shirt off and trousers.

He’s seen you like this before; sometimes in the summer when it just gets too damn hot, you both sit around in your swim-wear, so it feels perfectly natural to be in your underwear in front of Steve Rogers.

And you really want to get in the pool.

Holding onto the rail, you step into the pool, your grin lingering as the warmth of the water rises up your legs.

“Oh my God, this is incredible...”

Moving away from the steps, ducking a little, the water up to your shoulders, you sigh with delight, turning onto your back and closing your eyes.

Too busy undressing and getting into the water, you hadn’t noticed Steve’s gaze lingering on you.

Hadn’t noticed his eyes moving from your shoulders down, down, down, until he quickly averted them, running his fingers over his mouth as a faint pinkness tinged his cheeks.

Clearing his throat quietly, his gaze returns to you as you sigh.

Oh, Christ...

Sitting on the edge of the chair, elbows on his knees, one of his hands supporting his chin, a smile pulls at his lips.

“Is it nice?”

His smile only widens as you open your eyes and beam at him.

“So nice. Get in, come on.”

Raising his eyebrows, he shakes his head, dropping his hand. “Oh, no, I’m all right.”

Tilting your head, you move towards the edge of the pool closest to him. “Oh, come on, it’s so nice. And it’s our last night!”

He sits back, shaking his head again. “No, no—”

“Get in, get in, get in, get in,” you chant as you raise your hands out of the water, clapping them.

Releasing a breath, his hands on his knees, he then nods after a few moments, a smile lifting his lips. “All right, all right...”

You cheer and clap again as he pulls his shirt off, and, yes, though you’ve seen his body before, many times, your breath still catches in your throat slightly as he tosses it aside and then unbuttons and unzips the jeans.

Just the sound of it has you swallowing lightly, and to distract yourself, you lean back in the water, moving away from the side.

Kicking his jeans away, in his briefs, he moves towards the edge and drops down into the pool with such grace that it barely disturbs the water. Raising your eyebrows again, you nod your head.

“It’s good, right?”

He releases a sigh of his own, ducking down in the water so it comes up above his shoulders. “Jesus, yeah, you’re right, this is amazing...”

“Ah, see?” Grinning, you close your eyes and hum as you lay back in the warm, soothing water. “I should’ve got in here after every damn day, my blood pressure would be way down.”

You hear him laugh, the sound accompanied moments later by the gentle sloshing of water. Cracking an eye open, you watch him swim to the deeper end of the pool.

Well, more specifically, you watch the muscles in his back, shoulders and arms move.

Stop it.

Your eyes dart up to the dark sky and you inhale and exhale a deep breath, revelling once more in the lightness you now feel.

Hearing the water move again, you glance over at him, finding him swimming back. Arching an eyebrow, your lips twitch.

“Can you ever just not exercise, pretty boy? Can you not just enjoy it?”

He grins, a corner of his mouth higher than the other as he approaches. “Sorry, was just checkin’ to see how deep it was, see if I could easily drown you.”

Your eyebrows shoot up even as your mouth broadens into a grin and you exhale a laugh. “Oh, is that so? After my life-insurance are you, darling?”

“Mmh, can’t get it right now, we’re not married just yet, dear.”

You make an exaggerated expression of sympathy. “Oh, darn. Guess you’ll just have to wait, then, sweet fiancé.”

“Oh, I’m very patient."

“Yeah, seventy years under the ice will do that.”

You laugh as he shoves water towards you, mercifully it not hitting you in the face, his own lips twitching as he shakes his head.

“You just can’t not, can you?”

“I’m sorry,” you manage through your laughter, “It’s just too easy.”

Looking at you, considering shoving more water at you, or maybe actually drowning you, he then pauses.

And he can’t help himself.

He really looks at you. The small lines at the corner of your eyes that appear, like now, whenever you laugh and smile. The shape of your nose and lips, your tongue now moving out to wet them. Your eyes, on him, honest, warm, easy.

You’re about to speak when he says, his voice a touch lower, “Y/N...”

Your smile lingering, your eyebrows raise slightly after a small beat. “Yeah?”

He wets his lips, keeping his eyes on you. “What you said earlier, about me looking out for you... I’d do anything to keep you safe.”

Your features soften as your cheeks heat. “You, too, Steve.”

“No, Y/N, I...”

You pause slightly, your brow dipping a little. You’re both just looking at each other, and you release a slight breath, almost a faint laugh as you tilt your head.

“Steve—”

Then he reaches out, his thumb stroking against your cheek.

Oh...

Staring at him, you want to lean into his touch as his finger tips brush against your neck... but you can’t.

“What are you saying, Steve?” you murmur, holding his gaze.

He wets his lips again, moving a fraction closer. “I’m saying—”

“Because I can’t misinterpret this, I can’t.” You’re shaking your head. “I have to know if you want m—”

Moving forward, he barely disturbs the water again, but you don’t register it, you don’t care, because his lips are suddenly on yours in the softest of kisses. Your eyes fall shut instantly, a soft sound leaving the back of your throat.

Oh my God.

It’s not until, after a beat, your hand settles on his shoulder that his arm moves, wrapping around your waist, his hand resting on your back.

It’s the lightest of touches, like he wants to touch and hold you but wants to give you the opportunity to move away, wants you to feel that he’d let you go in an instant if you wanted him to.

You absolutely fucking don’t.

You’re about to wrap an arm around his neck to draw him closer when his lips leave yours and it’s such a loss but your brain doesn’t quite have time to catch up because he murmurs in a rather rough, low tone. “... want what?”

Swallowing lightly, you finish in the quietest of voices, “... me like I want you.”

Opening your eyes, your heart pounding, you look up at him, look at his soft expression, an emotion you can’t quite place in his eyes... and his arm has tightened around you slightly at your words.

“I want you,” he says lowly and, oh my God, you can’t stop yourself.

Your hands gripping his shoulders, your lips now claim his.

It’s a fiercer kiss, every ounce of what you feel and have ever felt for him pouring into it, unlocked by those three, short words.

I want you, I want you, I want you...

His arm is tight around you now and you don’t realise he’s moved you backwards until you feel the wall of the pool against your back. Almost on instinct your legs rise and wrap around his hips, the water moving between you. His lips are everything at once, soft, demanding, hungry, tentative, and then his tongue is touching against your lips, asking for entrance, and you give it immediately.

Yes, you’ve fantasised about this moment, but it’s nothing like the real thing. His tongue strokes against yours, soft and warm, and you just can’t help but moan into his mouth. The moment you do he releases a faint groan, his body pressing into yours and—

Oh my God, is that his cock...

You can feel it, feel him, pressing against your panties and oh, fu-uck...

You can’t help it. You can’t stop yourself. You rock your hips, a breath, nearly a moan, escaping against his lips.

You feel him tense, his hand flying up to grip at the ledge of the pool, and maybe the tiles crack quietly under his hold or maybe you imagine it, as a slightly strained rush of breath leaves him.

The kiss has broken with the movement, and you’re breathing hard, your chest rising and falling, but your lips are still so close to his.

“Y/N...” he murmurs, his eyes lingering on your mouth, and you could just tilt your head a fraction and claim those lips again, but he continues, “... I don’t wanna... don’t wanna rush this if you don’t want it right now...”

Are.

You.

Fucking.

Kidding.

Me.

Your hand cups his cheek and his head lifts and his eyes meet yours and, oh God, this man...

Licking your lips, they lift into a ghost of a smirk as you murmur, “I want you, Steve Rogers, I mean, I really, really want you, right now.”

A muscle in his jaw moves as you look at one another. Then, a wide smile spreads across his features as he arches an eyebrow.

“Why didn’t you fuckin’ say then, huh?”

Your laugh morphs into a gasp as his hands go to your waist and he lifts you out of the pool, sitting you on the edge of it.

“What—”

“C’mon.” He places his hands on the edge of the pool and pushes himself up, water pouring off of him as he rises out of it.

On his feet, he holds a hand out to you and, looking up at him with a smile that matches his, you take it instantly, letting him help you up.

He keeps ahold of your hand as he leads you around the pool, turning the heater for the pool off as he passes the control panel. All you can do is stare at him, barely feeling the cold, your heart racing.

Is this happening.

Is this real.

If I’m dreaming I’m gonna be so pissed.

He leads you through the glass door into the dimly lit penthouse and you think he might pause at the couch but, no, doesn’t stop, heads towards the stairs instead. You have to stride to keep up with him, almost jogging up the stairs.

At the top of them, he turns you suddenly, making you gasp quietly, pressing you against your closed door.

“You want me, huh,” he murmurs into your neck before pressing a warm, open-mouthed kiss there, and there’s a roughness to his tone that has an already growing warmth surging between your legs. Coupled with his mouth...

Your eyes fall shut at his kisses on the sensitive column of your throat, your head tilting back against the door as short, gasped breaths escape you. He ducks slightly, his hands on the outside of your thighs, slowly caressing up and down them.

“Huh?” he prompts you again, his lips moving against your jaw and you nod quickly, one hand gripping at his forearm, the other on his chest.

“Yes... You have no idea for how long...”

“Oh, I think I do.”

Your eyes snapping open, you tilt your head down to look at him but before you can meet his gaze, his own head is lifting and he seizes your lips in a hungry kiss.

Moaning into his mouth as your lips part and grant his tongue access, your hand moves behind you, searching for the door handle. You have to arch your back to reach it and his arm instantly locks around your lower back, holding you firm against him and, yes, that’s his hard cock against your thigh.

Oh my God, it’s thick...

Grabbing the handle, you push it down and the door swings open. His arm around you and his other hand on the door keeps you from falling but within seconds he’s walking you backwards, and you know he’s heading for the bed.

Oh, fuck, I really hope this is happening.

Moments later, the backs of your calves connect with the frame of the bed and then you’re falling backwards and he’s moving with you, landing on the soft sheets. You’re both damp but you don’t care one bit. The kiss has broken so you open your eyes, and though the room is dark, the sliver of moonlight coming in through the gap in the curtains illuminates him and you just gaze at him.

The ends of his hair at the nape of his neck are damp from the water, and it’s completely ruffled now, no longer perfect but it is, and his lips are parted and he’s gazing at you, too, and you wonder what he’s thinking.

In fact, you ask him.

A corner of his mouth lifts higher than the other. “I’m thinking ‘bout how I don’t know whether I want to tell you how long I’ve wanted to do this, or just touch you in every way I’ve imagined.”

Your breathing hitches as a delicious thrill rushes through you. Swallowing, you arch an eyebrow and try to say as nonchalantly as possible, “... Could do both.”

He chuckles, but it’s deep and lusty, and he bows his head as he places a hand beside your shoulder to support himself.

“That I could,” he murmurs against your neck and you just want to melt, your back arching a little, involuntarily, as your hands glide up his biceps to his shoulders.

“Been wanting to kiss this neck for a very fuckin’ long time...” he continues, and his kisses are now slower, open-mouthed, moving slowly down your neck.

You still as your finger tips press into his skin, wanting to focus on every single sensation and not distract him.

Reaching the base of your throat, his lips continue down to between your breasts, just where the ‘v’ of your bra meets. He hums out a groan as he kisses over the swell of one, his tongue brushing over your skin. You arch your back, pushing your breasts up a little more and he chuckles again.

“Been wantin’ to kiss these, too...”

His mouth moves over the wet material of your bra, and you draw in a breath as his tongue traces over where your nipple is, hard and aching for his touch.

“Do it, then,” you breathe, moan, more like, as his tongue strokes across the material again.

“Gonna be like that, is it?” he murmurs with a growing smile as he lifts his head, his mouth brushing between your breasts.

You have to try very hard not to smile in return as you arch an eyebrow. “Only if you don’t hurry up.”

Rising up, his hands either side of you, he exhales a breath as his lips now brush against yours. “Mmh, wanna take my time with you, though...”

Oh, fuck.

Your hands cup his face and you kiss him deeply, your tongue now seeking his. You feel his smile as he shifts, his legs inbetween yours, and his hands slide under your back. You arch automatically, your breath hitching as you feel his fingers at the clasp of your bra, unhooking it. Lowering your back as his hands move back around to your front, he pulls the straps down your arms and you have to drop your hands from him so he can remove it completely.

Your breasts are bare to him now, your nipples hard, tightening further from the air of the room, and your face heats as he breaks the kiss so he can look down at them as he tosses the bra aside.

Instead of feeling any sense of embarrassment or insecurity, though, desire courses through you as he moves down your body and lowers his head, taking one of your nipples between his lips and tugging at it gently. A moan slips from you, and as he sucks, circles and nips at it, your fingers find their way into his hair, curling in and tugging every now and then.

Whenever you do, he makes a sound, quiet, akin to a groan, and it just makes you wetter, knowing that he likes it. When he moves to your other nipple, his hand rises and rolls the now slick one between his fingers. Your eyes have closed and your head has tipped back as jolts of pleasure pulse through you, and, fuck, with the sensation between your legs you might come from this alone.

Except you need more. You feel... empty, your pussy clenching around nothing, needing to be filled.

Tugging at his hair, hearing those delicious sounds, you drag your teeth over your lower lip as you look down at him.

“Steve—” You have to break off to inhale a sharp breath as he nips at your nipple, making your lips twitch as he glances up at you.

“Hm?”

“I want more...”

Resting his chin between your breasts, his fingers continue idly rolling and squeezing your nipple, making it very hard to concentrate.

“What do you want?”

Your lips parted, one of your hands glides down to his shoulder, your finger tips caressing his skin. “I want you to touch me.”

He arches an eyebrow, pressing a lingering kiss to your chest and you can see he’s trying to hide a smile.

“I am touching you.”

Your mouth drops open as the corners lift in incredulity.

The fucking bastard.

Steve Rogers is a fucking tease.

I knew it.

Inhaling a breath, your cheeks warming again despite your need, you clear your throat. “I want you to touch... mypussy.”

“What was that, sweetheart?” he asks innocently, pressing another kiss to your chest, a little higher up.

You can’t believe it, you’re getting shy.

My God, not today, remember who is between your legs.

Licking your lips, your fingers move up to the nape of his neck, the tips sliding into his hair, your nails grazing against his scalp. You feel his head lean into your hands slightly at that, and a corner of your mouth lifts.

“I want you to touch my pussy with your fingers and your tongue and—”

You’re made to break off once more, this time with a sharp moan as he’s moving down your body, your words sparking something inside him, his lips trailing a path down you. He kisses down your soft stomach, his tongue flicking out over your skin every other kiss, making your stomach muscles tighten involuntarily. He moves off the bed, kneeling on the floor as he reaches the waistline of your panties, he kisses along it, and your breaths are so much shorter now, his mouth inches from where you desperately need him, where you’ve fantasised for so long about him being.

“Are these wet from the pool or me?” he rumbles, and you can feel his voice.

Raising your eyebrows, having no idea when you became such a tease, in all your fantasies you’ve practically begged him to fuck you at every turn, you shrug, your fingers carding through his hair.

“The pool, I guess.”

“Oh, so that is how it’s gonna be...”

Leaning back, your hands falling from him, he hooks his fingers into the waistband and then pulls your panties down, and your faint smirk lingers but you feel your bravado slowly slipping away as he glides them down your legs. Tugging them off of your feet, he drops them to the floor and your whole body feels warm and aching and needy, and you realise that you’re completely naked for him.

He seems to realise it in that same moment, too, as he places a hand on the mattress beside your leg, sits back on his heels, and just gazes at you. You watch his throat bob as his eyes linger on your pussy which you know is wet and glistening, before moving up your body, up your stomach, lingering on your breasts, then meeting your own.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, making your face flush with warmth as you bite at your lower lip.

A soft smile pulls at his lips and you return it, your hands settling on your stomach as you play with them slightly. His hand moves from the mattress and slides around your thigh, resting there. The light touch on your sensitive skin has your breath hitching, but he doesn’t move.

“You want me to touch you?”

His voice is low, quiet, and as much as the question makes your stomach clench in the most delicious of ways, you know he’s asking more for consent.

Fucking yes.

You nod, and spread your legs as wide as you can, your teeth grazing over your lower lip. “Yes.”

You hear the breath he sucks in, his eyes instantly dropping to your pussy, and his jaw moves. Glancing up at you, lust lingers in his darkened eyes.

“Let’s see if you taste as good as I’ve imagined.”

Your jagged breath catches in your throat as he lowers his head and his tongue delves between your pussy lips.

Oh.

My.

God.

All right, you’re not a tease at all. Your head tipping back, a long, breathy moan slips through your parted lips as one of your hands darts down to grip at his hair. He groans against you, and you feel the vibration of it, making your hips buck. The flat of his tongue licks up your slit from your hole to your aching clit and he groans again, his free hand wrapping around your other thigh to keep your legs wide.

“You taste so fuckin’ good...” he rumbles, lapping at you hungrily.

You want to close your eyes but you also can’t stop staring at him, watching the movement of his head as he licks at you, his tongue circling your clit.

His mouth is on you. His mouth is on you.

The very thought has your hips bucking again and he chuckles quietly, kissing and sucking at your clit. His hand slides up from your thigh and his arm settles across your stomach, keeping you down, and the fact you can’t move your hips? That you have to feel every bit of pleasure he gives you...?

“Want your fingers... want your fingers inside me...” you breathe, tugging at his hair.

His hand instantly drops from your thigh and he licks at your clit as his fingertips stroke along your slit, collecting your wetness.

You’re so wet he can push two fingers inside you and, fuck, they’re so long and thick and your eyes now finally fall shut as you moan, your neck arching.

“Fuck...” you hear and feel him murmur, feel his fingers scissor inside you a couple of times. “... So tight... Is that good?”

“So fucking good...” you moan breathily, and he starts to move his fingers, slowly pumping them in and out. They slide so easily you’re so slick.

You can already feel your orgasm building inside you and you try to roll your hips but his arm keeps you down, so all you can do is flex your fingers in his hair as your warm, wet walls start to flutter around him.

“Already, huh?” he murmurs, and you feel his smile as he increases the pace of his fingers.

“Oh, shut up, you don’t know how long I’ve been wanting this...” you release in one breath.

Your brow dipping as the pleasure grows, your fingers are curled tightly in his hair as he groans, sucks at your clit as he slips a third finger inside you, stretching you a little more. Your breaths become higher and shorter, practically just moans at this point, and then he starts to speak.

“Come on, sweetheart, that’s it... Come on my fingers, make my hand wet... Let me feel you...”

Even in your euphoria the corners of your mouth lift because you fucking knew it.

Steve Rogers has a fucking mouth on him.

You bite hard at your lower lip out of reflex, quickly releasing it when he continues, “No, let me hear you, sweetheart... Let me hear how loud you can come for me, I’ve been dreamin’ about this...”

“Fucking hell...” you gasp because this man.

Almost at his command, though, moans are tumbling out of you and it just takes a few more pumps of his fingers and that tongue flicking over your clit, and then you stop breathing for a moment, your back arching.

“Steve...” you breathe.

And then the pleasure explodes inside you as you cry out, trying to close your legs on instinct but his shoulders keep them apart and he doesn’t stop as waves of pleasure roll through your body.

You can faintly hear him murmuring, “That’s it, good girl... Fuck...” but you’re too busy focusing on the sensations and even though you’re quickly growing sensitive, you don’t want him to stop because fuck.

You don’t know how long it is until he eventually starts to slow them, but you’re breathing hard, fingers loosened on his hair and your eyes are still closed. He presses a kiss to your clit which makes your hips jerk and he laughs quietly. You hum in the back of your throat as his fingers slide out of you and, opening your eyes, you find him moving back on top of you, a rather satisfied smile on his lips.

It softens, though, as he meets your gaze and places his hands either side of your head to hold himself up. Bowing his head, he presses a deep, lingering kiss to your lips, and you groan softly as you can taste yourself.

“Okay?” he asks quietly, brushing his nose against yours.

“Yeah,” you answer, still trying to catch your breath.

Draping your arms around his neck, he kisses you again, his tongue stroking against your mouth much like he’d stroked it against your cunt. The kiss deepens as both of you stroke at one another and you’re very aware of your body now, aware of his hand caressing your hip and waist, moving up and down, and it’s heaven.

You need more.

Hooking a leg over his waist, he allows you to draw his body down, his straining, clothed cock pressing against your wet pussy. He hisses out a breath against your lips and you just can’t stop yourself from smirking.

“You want me, too, huh?” you whisper into his ear after his head lowers when you start to rock your hips against him.

He growls against your neck. “Very much so.”

Very much enjoying the feel of how tense he is, his hand gripping your thigh, his fingers tightening as you rock your hips again and again, you let out a breathless moan, your fingers running through his hair.

“Then fuck me.”

He growls again, his teeth grazing over your neck, and then his lips are on yours, kissing you hungrily, heatedly. Your hands drop down, pushing between you both to his briefs and you start to push them down. He uses the hand by your head to push himself up again, giving you space to, and his lips are tearing from yours and laving your neck in open-mouthed kisses as you free his cock.

His mouth is just so damn good, nearly distracting, but as he kicks his briefs off, your hand instantly moves to his cock and—

Oh, God, you want your mouth on him.

You feel him grit his teeth as his kisses pause when your fingertips brush against the hard, thick, long length of him.

Pre-cum leaks from his tip and you use the pad of your thumb to spread it, circling the head.

“Jesus Christ...” he hisses out, bucking into your hand, and your fingers wrap around him, feel how thick he is.

Oh my God.

You may want your mouth on him but you want something else more.

“I want you inside me,” you murmur against his ear and he nods several times, turning his head to press an almost sloppy kiss to your jaw.

Pulling his head back, his cheeks and neck are flushed a light pink and, God, he’s never looked more beautiful.

“Condom?” he asks, a slight tightest to his tone and you realise it’s because you’re still stroking him lightly.

His question makes you halt, though, and you pull a slight face. “Oh, shit, I don’t have any.”

“I do.”

Your eyebrows shoot up as you unsuccessfully try to stop a smile. “Wait, you do?”

He shakes his head slightly, a corner of his mouth twisting up as he shrugs a shoulder. “Buck gave me some at the beginning of this.”

Your smile widens into a grin as you caress his cheek. “Ooh, I hate him but I love him.”

“Yeah, well, he’s not the one who made you come, is he?” he gravels, lowering his head and pressing a firm, searing kiss to your lips before he’s then moving off of you.

Having to take a moment to catch your breath, you watch him stride towards the door, a smirk tugging at your lips.

“Well, I was thinking of him.”

Turning his head to you as he rounds the corner, he arches an eyebrow, shaking his head but you just about glimpse the incredulous smile he tries to stop. “You’re fuckin’ somethin’ else...”

Laughing, your teeth sink into your lower lip. You hear him striding down the hall to his room, shoving the door open. Pushing yourself up, you shift your position and then lie back against the pillows, breathing slightly raggedly. Looking up at the ceiling, you swallow hard.

This is happening.

This is fucking happening.

And you both want it.

You play with your hands on your stomach, pushing the engagement ring from side to side.

This is finally happening.

You hear him stride back down the hallway, your eyes going to the door, and, oh my God, you’ll never get used to the sight of him naked. There’s a light sheen to his skin, either from the water or sweat you don’t know, his hair is beyond ruffled and his eyes are instantly on you, taking you in as much as you do him.

Pushing the door shut with his foot, he tilts his head as he rips the packet open.

“Oh, good, you’re still here.”

You bite at your lip to stop a smile as you shrug. “I’ve got nothing else to do.”

“Aren’t I lucky.”

Tossing the packet aside, he places a knee on the bed and your eyes drop to watch him roll the condom onto his cock. You’re even wetter, if that’s possible, knowing he’s soon going to be inside you.

Once the condom’s on, he moves towards you, settling over you, and your hands go to his shoulders, sliding up to rest either side of his neck. He gazes down at you, and you smile and the one he returns it with is so soft and warm and you love him, you love him, you love him.

He takes you by surprise by kissing you just as softly and sweetly, and you press your body against his. A rush of breath leaves him as he lifts his head and nudges his nose against yours.

After licking his lips, he murmurs quietly, “We can stop now if you want. Just say the word.”

I love you.

Cupping his face, your thumbs brush against his cheeks as you hold his gaze. “I don’t want to stop,” you reply, just as quiet as him.

He nods and kisses you again and it’s slow and languid and has you arching against him, pliant and in love.

“Gonna go slow, all right...” he mumbles against your mouth and you nod, and then you feel his hand reaching down between you, grasping his cock, and you widen your legs.

Keeping his lips against yours, moving them slowly, you then feel his cock start to push into you. You inhale sharply as your head tips back a little and his mouth falls to your jaw, pressing gentle kisses along it even as you hear him groan. With how slow he’s going you feel every inch of him as he fills you and it’s fucking delicious. Your slick walls stretching around him has his hand gripping one of the pillows beside your head and he exhales hard, short breaths against your neck. He must be using every ounce of restraint he has to not just thrust into you.

You, however, have none.

Rolling your hips up, you draw him further into you, hearing him curse against your skin, and then he’s fully sheathed inside you. You both still, your arms around him, his hand on one of your knees, keeping your leg wide, his other crushing the pillow. His whole body is tense, his muscles taut, but he’s waiting for you to give permission, waiting until you’re comfortable.

It is quite a cock to accommodate, but you’re so desperate for him, so fucking wet at finally feeling him inside you, that only a moment later you’re rocking your hips again and again, picking up a slow rhythm.

He releases the breath he’d been holding, it soon followed by a deep groan and just the very sound makes your walls flutter around him. He hisses, and then he’s thrusting into you, picking up a faster pace than the one you had set.

“Tell me if it’s too much...” he groans against your ear, and it is but in the best possible way.

“Don’t... don’t stop...” you moan, your nails digging into his back as you feel his thick cock drag in and out of you.

He takes you at your word and, thank God, because his hips are thrusting faster and you can hear the headboard banging against the wall with the momentum. Only for a few moments, though, because then his hand is darting up from the pillow to grip it, whether to silence it or have something sturdier to hold onto you don’t care.

His forehead is pressed against your cheek, and with every mewl and moan you release his fingers tighten on your knee.

And then he starts to speak again, and all your fantasies had been absolutely correct.

Steve Rogers really does have a fucking mouth on him.

“You feel so fuckin’ good... so wet and tight... thought about doin’ this for so long but this is so much fuckin’ better...”

All you can do is moan and gasp with every thrust and grip onto him.

“So fuckin’ good, sweetheart...” he groans against your ear and you want to melt. “... How does my cock feel, huh?”

“Oh, fuck... You’re so thick... You feel so fucking good...”

With each thrust he stretches and fills you perfectly, like you were made for him, and your breasts bounce, your nipples brushing against his hard chest.

Lifting his head, his teeth graze against your jaw before he presses a kiss to your cheek.

“Look at me...” he commands lowly, and it takes a moment for your eyes to open.

Locking your gaze on his, an indescribable feeling washes over you, maybe one of joy, maybe one of completion, maybe one of that this feels so fucking right, and you moan his name.

He answers it with a hissed curse before capturing your lips in a fierce kiss, muffling your next moan.

Your nails are gliding down his back but he doesn’t feel it, doesn’t care, because the feel of you around him...

“... not gonna last long... want to feel you come on my cock, want to feel you come...” he groans, and then his hand is off your knee and at your pussy, feeling where he’s sliding into you before his fingers rub against your clit.

You cry out at the burst of pleasure, your lips tearing from his as you throw your head back. “Oh, fuck...”

“Come for me... need you to come for me first...” he nearly slurs against your throat, teeth gritted, and you realise then; he’s trying to hold off his own release.

You’re about to make a breathless crack at what a gentleman he is when his hand is off the headboard and his arm is sliding under your lower back, angling your hips perfectly, and you feel like you’re seeing fucking stars.

“Oh, fuck, Steve...” you gasp, one hand gripping his shoulder, the other flying back to press against the headboard as you try and ground yourself.

It’s no use, though. He’s fucking determined, thrusting hard and fast into you, stroking unrelentingly at your clit, and your orgasm is rising so fast, unstoppable.

“Steve, Steve, Steve...” You’re almost babbling his name, the only word that comes to you, the only thing that makes sense, and his mouth is at your ear again.

“Come for me, baby, please, need to feel you come, need to feel you all tight and wet around me...”

Your breaths are ragged and moaned, and you inhale sharply, and then you’re sent crashing into your release with his next thrust, crying out loudly as your back arches, your legs wrapping tight around his waist.

“Steve...”

He grunts, his hips snapping forward as your pussy clenches around him, trying to keep him buried inside you, and then they’re starting to stutter as his own breaths become harsher. His hand moves from your pussy, gripping the headboard again, and you turn your head, your lips brushing against his cheek as you mewl weakly.

After two more thrusts, he then stills and releases a yell through gritted teeth into the crook of your neck as he comes. As he gives a few more thrusts, his hips jerking, prolonging both your pleasures, your teeth sink into your lower lip, a low, soft, hummed moan sounding from the back of your throat.

He stays buried inside you when he finally stills again, panting against your skin, his body entirely relaxed on top of yours. You don’t move, trying to regulate your pounding heart and breathing. You don’t realise when it happens, but the hand on his shoulder moves to the back of his neck, your finger tips gently stroking his hair.

Silence descends on the room, the only sound your laboured breaths.

The weight of him on top of you is starting to get a little bit too uncomfortable but you don’t want to speak, you don’t know if you can, actually.

Then you feel his fingers lightly stroking your hip and his head lifts, his nose brushing against your jaw before his mouth finds yours.

He kisses you slowly, lingeringly, and you could stay like this forever.

“Fuck, sorry, must be crushing you,” he mumbles suddenly and he must not be quite recovered yet either.

“It’s fine, don’t worry...” you smile softly, the backs of your fingers brushing against his cheek.

“Yeah, I bet it’s not, hang on...” He presses a brief, firm kiss to your lips before his hands are on the bed either side of you and he pushes himself up. He then draws his hips back, pulling his softening cock out of you and you wince just slightly at the sensation, more bereft at the loss of having him inside you.

Adjusting your head on the pillows as he sits back, you’re about to open your arms to him when he moves off the bed and heads into the bathroom.

“Uh, where are you going?”

“Hang on...”

After a few moments, you hear water running briefly, and then he returns with a damp hand-towel, your gaze trailing over his body once more, noting he’s gotten rid of the condom, and then your features soften as you realise what he’s about to do. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he gently takes your ankle and widens your legs a little more before he lightly wipes away the wetness on your cunt and thighs.

“Thank you...” you murmur, your lips twitching as you gaze at him with such adoration.

His gaze lifts and meets yours and you see your own expression mirrored back to you. “Think I should be thanking you.”

You laugh softly, and then close your eyes with a soft hum as he gently wipes and dabs at you, the action quite soothing. When you feel the absence of the towel, you open your eyes and look at him, watching him fold it and lean over, placing it on the bedside table.

“Now, will you come here?” you say quietly, and he looks over at you, a corner of his mouth higher than the other.

“Gladly.”

Shifting forward, you let him pull the sheets down and you both slide under them, your head settling on his shoulder as he pulls the covers up around you both before his arm wraps around you. Resting your arm against his chest, silence comes again as you both lie there, his cheek resting against the top of your head.

“... So...” he murmurs after a pause.

“So...” you answer, your lips twitching.

“Wanted this for a while, huh?”

“Yeah. You, too?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“... Who knew we could have been doing this for months if you’d just said something.”

“If I’d just said something?”

A wide smile tugs at your lips as you tilt your head to look up at him, finding his eyebrow arched.

“Steve, you know I can’t even call our takeaway place.”

“Oh, well, that’s true.”

Laughing softly, you then rise up a little and press a gentle kiss to his lips. He returns it immediately, his finger tips idly stroking up and down your back.

“Anything else you want to confess?” he murmurs against your lips.

I love you.

“Nope,” you reply, smiling softly at him before pressing another kiss to his lips.

You both allow it to linger for a short while, before his head is leaning back against the pillows and yours is returning to his shoulder. Closing your eyes, a feeling of utter bliss and contentedness settles over you.

“I just need to say that...” he begins quietly, his fingers still caressing you. “... I don’t want this to be a one time thing.”

Your wide smile is hidden from his view, but he feels it. “Me, too.”

—

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afaimsarrowverse · 3 years ago

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Arrowverse Season 2021/22 Overview:

„Supergirl“‘s and „Stargirl“‘s 2020/21-Seasons are still running, which is very strange, but I wanted to make on of those anyways before the new Seasons are starting to air, so I will just include „Supergirl“ in it for one last time, I guess. But with the upcoming Five Episode Event I felt like I had to do one.

Supergirl:

„Supergirl“ Season 6 is still airing, and even though the season does actually belong to the 2020/21-Season while the 2021/22 Season is about to start, the show will be around for two more months. The Finale will air on November 9th, it will be a two hour event, so to speak, however it is currently unknown if the last two episodes are an actual two-parter or if they are just airing on the same day for scheduling reasons.

We have reached the second half of the season, which will include the guest appearances of well known faces, starting with Mxyzptlk and John Diggle in the current episodes. Mxy will of course return in later episodes to wrap up his storyline. Lex and Lillian will also make their return. Odette Annable was supposed to return somewhen this season, but since we have not heard anything about that anymore, it might have fallen through. However we will see Eliza Danvers and our boys again. Eliza as well als James, Winn and Mon-El will be in the Series Finale and some of them might drop in sometime before that. Nyxly and her hunt for totems will be the main story arc in the upcoming episodes, with each episode focusing on one totem and its trait and a Superfriend, who does represent that trait. Also, both Kelly and Lena will embrace their newfound destinies, while William will be tasked with Andrea’s Superfriends focused news stories.

Hopefully we will get so see M’gann somewhen before the show wraps again and get an explanation for her absence since Kara has returned, but this is not confirmed. Also John Diggle might be the only guest appearance from other Arrowverse Shows for the Final Season. In theory Clark, Lois and Barry could show up, however only if they would have filmed those scenes around the time their respective Seasons wrapped and before they went on leave. It does however seem that we will see the return of Overgirl in the Finale. There is going to be an epic battle (or a couple of battles) that will involve pretty much everyone (including James, Winn and Mon-El) and there will be a funeral. But don’t worry, oddly enough pretty much everyone will be attending this funeral, so … could it be Supergirl’s funeral and the way to end the show, with Kara either power-less or leaving for another place? Also, we might get a wedding in the Finale as well.

With the end of „Supergirl“ Melissa will be done with the Arrowverse for a while, however Chyler will be back in the weeks after on „The Flash“, and we might get to see Kelly and Nia as well the other shows after the Finale has aired.

Batwoman:

Season 3 of „Batwoman“ will start airing on October 13th on The CW, so yes, the show will move to Wednesdays at 9:00 pm.

Ryan, Alice, Luke, Mary and Sophie are all back. The first trailer already dropped and does explain how and why Alice is still on the show. Meanwhile there is no word on Jacob. However Season 3 will add Robin Givens as Jada Jet, Nick Creegan as Marquis Jet and finally (sadly two seasons too late) Renee Montoya played by Victoria Cartagena to the Main Cast. Montoya will be a former Police Officer in this version, continuing the Police and Armed Forces Corruption Trend into Season 3, as she did quit for ehtical reasons. She will now run a „Freak Divsion“ for the Mayor’s Office, and we might even get the Question already. Maybe.

The Jets on the other hand are a rich and powerful family, with mother Jada running Jets Industries. Son Marquis on the other hand will be the typical good-for-nothing playboy at constant war with his mother. Now I will just have to admit that I have stopped watching „Batwoman“ and don’t intend to return to watch it ever again outside of Future Crossover Episodes (maybe), but it looks like the Jada is maybe Ryan‘s birth-mother and that this is the connection of those characters to Ryan. If that isn’t the case … well, then there is another first-born child Jada had to give up and is guilting on about, so … yeah, make of this what you will.

Bigger news are the villains. Every one and their mother did hear about Poisin Ivy showing up this year. Bridget Regan will play her, and she has history with Batman, so she will be Poison Ivy already. Also Mad Hatter will appear this season, and so will Killer Croc it seems. The show may also feature Penguine, but don’t hold your breath for that.

Now, production-wise Season 2 lost it’s final episode. It is unknown if 3.01 will just be that one, or if they like after Season 1 just put it in the trash and completley re-wrote it. Also according the the Director’s Guild Season 3 will wrap in December, which means The CW probably only ordered 13 episodes. Now, they may extend that order to something between 15 and 18 Episodes, but it does seems likely that they are planning to replace „Batwoman“ with either „Superman & Lois“ or „Naomi“ in early 2022, so it might really be a 13 Episodes Season.

However, we will see Ryan Wilder interact with someone else from the Arrowverse this year, but not on „Batwoman“. She will guest star on Season 8 of „The Flash“, meaning that there will probably be a Ryan-less or Ryan-light episode somewhere in the middle of this 13 episodes, so be ready for that.

Legends of Tomorrow:

Legends of Tomorrow will return from their shortest break in-between seasons ever on October 13th and will air on Wednesdays at 8:00 pm.

The first trailer dropped already and confirms what we have been told at ComicCon and seen in the Season 6 Finale: Yes, the Legends (minus Mick and Kayla) are stranded in 1920s with a broken or destroyed Waverider. They have to deal with this, when Season 7 begins.

John Constantine has left the show, but Matt Ryan hasn’t. He will play a new character this season. A scientist called Gwyn Davies, who is probably related to John Constantine and might have something to do with the key John gave to Zari. He will be the only hope for the Legends to ever get out oft he 1920s it seems. The other new-old addition to the main cast will be fleshy Gideon, we learned. Given what happened to the Waverider, it will be interesting to see how this comes about, however the 100th Episode is a good guess to when it will happen.

Now, given that Season 6 just finished airing a few weeks ago, we don’t know much about Season 7. We have the titles of the first six episodes, Episode 3 is the 100th and will be directed by Caity Lotz (funnily enough it’s her third episode as well!), Episode 5 will probably focus on Gwyn Davies, and according to the Director’s Guild „Legends“ is supposed to wrap in December, which means it finally happened - we will get only 13 Episodes this year. However, The CW may extend this order, they have done so several times in the past, and if we are lucky and keep our fingers crossed they may extend their oder to 15 or maybe even 16 episodes again. However just like in the case of „Batwoman“ the show is probably supposed to be replaced by either „Naomi“ or „Superman & Lois“ at the Mid-Season, so it really depends on the 2022 schedule and on how fast the production goes on and on well … the question if this will be the show‘s last season.

But before we deal with that one, let’s deal with the other open questions. We are supposed to see Dom again in Season 7, he and Phil made a handshake deal on that. But will it really happen? I have no idea, because like everyone else, I have no idea what the falling out was actually about (my best guess is that they wanted him for half a season and he was not to pleased with that idea in the middle of a pandemic), but the travelling restrictions are lifted for vaccinated people at least, so if we are lucky this might just work out. However I have no idea when, how often, and in what order his appearances or his appearance will happen. And yes, traditionally it should be the 100th Episode, but I have no idea if there are special guest stars in there. If there are, other than Mick, the best guess to who it might be would be Ray Palmer and John Constantine. Brandon Routh will appear as Ray Palmer in Season 8 of „The Flash“, meaning that he went to Vancouver to shoot stuff, so he could have been there longer already and shot something for the 100th Episode, but the timing does not seem right, we might get to see him in another episode of Season 7 instead or we might not see him at all. As for John, Matt Ryan is still on the show, and yes, the did say time and time again that Constantine’s story on the show is done, but his last scene was very strange and left many unanswered questions, he cleary was from a point in the future and knew about the cliffhangar, plus we never saw him get out of the Fountain, which was kind of strange, so maybe they will actually wrap up his story in Season 7. Now, Matt Ryan did post a picture of Constantine walking away some days after the Finale of Season 6 had aired, but he could have posted this after he had just shot his last appearance as John Constantine. But even if they wrap up these open questions or reveal that the person in that last scene was not John at all and he is actually still dead or something like that, they might not do in the 100th Episode but at a later point. Or they might not do it all. They had two seasons to make Charlie and Amaya meet and did not do it, it is very possible that we actually did saw the last of John in Season 6.

So now to the question we don’t want to think about: Will Season 7 be the final Season? I have said time and time again, that „Legends“ is the one Arrowverse-Show that could go on forever, if they wanted to. The ever-changing cast would make it possible. Even if Caity Lotz were to leave, they could just make another character the new Team Leader, they could even go as far as to make it Nia Nal or Nora West-Allen. However I don’t really think The CW thinks like that. Now, the show is still around because the producers are doing what they can to reduce the cost of it. „Superman & Lois“ is the Arrowverse-Show with the biggest budget, but it get’s money from HBOmax, as does „Batwoman“ or so they say, however „Legends“ does not, and it is show that costs the network the most. The have to recreate several different time periods on a weekly basis and are an ensemble show, do the maths. Also this season will include the 100th episode, and while streaming changed the television landscape up quite a lot in the last couple of years, old pratices are still a factor in the mind of Network Executives, meaning they want 100 Episodes but often don’t really care about the seasons after this point.

However, The CW and Mark Pedowitz really want to do another Crossover, if they can get one. And the Five Episode Event on „The Flash“ won’t really be that. And after „Supergirl“ is finished, „Legends“ and „The Flash“ will be the only Arrowverse-Shows from good old times, whose characters do know and like each other. While everyone knows Superman, they are still keeping this show apart from the rest of the Arrowverse, so I do think that if „The Flash“ gets a 9th Season, they are probably going to give „Legends“ an 8th Season, if Caity Lotz stays on the show and ratings are at the usual level. However I might be wrong there.

But if they are axing the show or ending it, we will probably be informed about it before Season 7 starts airing. If Season 7 is the last one, the writers should know that by now. And I also think that if Season 7 is the last one, they might just add a couple of episodes to it in order to make a Finale.

So yeah, I don’t know, we really have to wait and see, but the show will in any case get a proper ending, that much is for sure.

The Flash:

Covid delays lead to a later than usual start for the shooting of Season 8. So while „Batwoman“ and „Legends of Tomorrow“ have already done around 7 episodes each, „The Flash“ is still on Episode 3, which is why the season will only start airing on November 16th.

The season will start of with „Armageddon“ – a Five Part Special Event, that will involve various guest stars and might or might not be based on the Comic-Event with the same name. „Armageddon“ will feature Ray Palmer (the Atom), Jefferson Pierce (Black Lightning), Alex Danvers (Sentinel), Mia Queen (Green Arrow), Eobard Thawne (Reverse-Flash), Damien Darhk, Ryan Choi and Ryan Wilder (Batwoman). Yes, most of those characters are from former shows (even though „Supergirl“ will just end the week before this event starts airing), but the new Batwoman is in it, so it is an actual Crossover with an on-going show. It will be the first time Ryan Wilder gets to interact with any Arrowverse-Characters outside of „Batwoman“. The villain of the piece will be Despero. Tony Curran will play the villain in probably both alien and human form. He might or might not team up with Eobard and Damien Darhk, who by the way was dead and in hell the last time we saw him, which combinded with Mia Smoak here leads into the idea that time travel might play into „Armageddon“, which will feature an Alien Invasion too big for Team Flash to handle alone, which is where all those guest stars come in. „Armageddon“ will also feature Deon Owen, Sue Dearborn and Jay Garrick. And Kristen Kramer, if Eric Wallace is to be believed, because the first few episoded of this season are supposed to explore her powers.

Now, there might be even more guest stars in „Armageddon“, but we can expect those who were announced to be the big ones. Everyone else is probably only doing a couple of scenes or a cameo. However let’s go through a list of likely suspects, who might also show up:

Kelly Olsen is of course the first, who comes to mind, she is only just becoming Guardian on „Supergirl“ now, the actress did stick around in Vancouver, and it would be weird if Alex was in those episodes but Kelly wasn’t. However, given that she was not announced, they either did not do that because they did not want to spoil her Guardian-Storyline (which just started a while after the guest stars were announced) or because she plays only a very small part in the storyline. Or she really is for whatever reason not in it. Next on the list would be Nora Darhk; with both her husband and her father showing up, it would be weird for her not to appear, but other than with Kelly there could be pratical reasons for that, namely Courtney‘s and Brandon’s son Leo. However with no Quarantine for vaccinated travelers from the US anymore, the whole family could have gone to Vancouver for a couple of days or weeks, so maybe she will show up. Then there is John Diggle. David Ramsey is directing Episode 2 of Season 2 of „Superman & Lois“, meaning he is in Vancouver, so in theory he could appear. I am compileing this before his last guest appreance on „Supergirl“ airs, when the whole Green Lantern thing is still up in the air, so maybe we will get Green Lantern-Diggle in „Armageddon“ after all. And then there is of course Superman. „Superman & Lois“ did just start filming Season 2, so the main reason Tyler is not among these guest stars is probably scheduling. However he might be able to film a cameo or even a couple of scenes, so there is hope, just remember that they would have announced it, if he would play a big part in it.

Now Bart and Nora West-Allen are confirmed to be in this season, however it is unknown if they are in „Armageddon“. Scheduling is a conflict there for Jordan Fisher, who has a Broadway Show upcoming soon, so I am not sure when Impulse and XS will show up, however it would be more logical for them to be around at the beginning of the season rather than in the middle or at the end. Also Iris‘ Time-Sickness is not cured and will factor into the season, however Eric Wallace stated this would come into play after „Armageddon“, so maybe her kids will factor into that storyline.

After „Armageddon“ we will return to the Horror-Gerne it seems, with a villain that will make Barrys and Iris‘ life into a living nightmare. Whatever that is supposed to mean. There are guesses around who this villain is, but no one really knows. It also is a problem that Eric Wallace tends to talk very much without saying anything and often misleads people with his discription of up-coming storylines so … I would say think about the Bloodwork-Arc, it might just be something along these lines, or maybe it just is the person, who causes Iris to be time-sick (whatever that actually means) and Westallen will spend most of Season 8 apart again, because this is just the way Wallace writes them in order to keep their relationship interesting.

There will also be a storyline for Frost and Caitlin, that was supposed to be in Season 7, and maybe if we are very lucky that will finally be the one about their Mother and her Ice Powers. Joe will also get a storyline, which … I have no idea … might continue his strange Season 7 Storyline about being or not being a cop. Or he might just marry Cecile and that’s it, like I said Wallace ha a strange way of teasing upcoming storylines.

As for the Ralph-Question, no news there, as for the „Will we see Cisco this season?“-Question, also no news. Now, Rick Cosnett said something about returning to „The Flash“, however he might not have meant Season 8, if the season is not the last one, he might have referred to the same storyline Tom Cavanagh talked about a while back - the Final Storyline. And yes, there was talk about the return of Zoom, but this was more an actor wanting to return to a show than anything planned, so don’t expect him to show up anytime soon either. As for Bloodwork and Goodspeed, I have no idea if and when their storylines are going to be resolved, but the chances for Goodspeed are slighty better, I think.

Now, finally: Will Season 8 be the Last Season of „The Flash“? That really is up to Grant Gustin and what he signed on for when he signed up for Season 8. Despite Season 7 The CW still wants the show as long as possible around. If Grant sigend up for Season 8 and 9, there will be a Season 9. If he only signed up for Season 8, it depends on a decision he should be making soon. In any case, if Season 8 is the last Season, we will learn that before it starts airing aka in the next couple of months. And they will know long enough beforehand to do their planned Final Storyline.

Given they only began filming in late August and that they are taking their time with the Event, Season 8 will be shorter again. It will probably be around 18 Episodes, maybe if we are lucky, they will get to do 20, but a full 22 Episode Season is rather unlikely to happen.

Superman & Lois:

„Superman & Lois“ will return in 2022. The Second Season will feature Natalie Irons played by Taylor Buck as a member of the Main Cast. Sofia Hasmik was also promoted to the Main Cast. Tal-Rho will still be part of the show, however I am not too sure about him still being part of the Main Cast in Season 2. However both he and Leslie Larr will figure into the season.

The main villain won’t be Kryptonian this year. We will learn Tegan Wickhem’s backround (and which Flash Villain she is related to, I hope), Jordan will have to decide if he tells Sarah about his secret or not, and might not agree with his parent on that matter. John Henry will get to parent again, while Intergang and Killgrave will get new allies.

David Ramsey will be directing Episode 2 of this season, but this does not mean that John Diggle will return to the show. Given that this is „Superman & Lois“, even if he is going to guest-star this season, he won’t do that in Episode 2, but rather a couple of episodes later, when he is finished with the directorial stuff.

The Director’s Guilt Date does indicated that Season 2 is aiming for 13-16 Episode Season again. The only just started filming and plan to wrap in April, and there will be a Christmas Break, and thanks to Covid most seasons will be shorter this year again anyways. The CW might of course extend their Episode Order again, but keep in mind that if they do that, they have the problem of having to start shooting Season 3 later again, so the show might settle for 15 Episode Seasons as their normal lenght in the end.

And while it is not confirmed that there will be a third season, it is very likely that the network will order one.

They are probably planning to have „Superman & Lois“ replace „Batwoman“ or „Legends“ in early 2022, but it will be months before we will know the exact start-date.

There will be a panel at DC-Fandome, hopefully we will get some sort of trailer with footage from the first couple of episodes and some information what the season is actually going to be about then, but for now this is sadly all we know about Season 2.

I am still not covering „Stargirl“ as it hasn’t crossed over with the Arrowverse yet and I am alos not doing „Naomi“ because it won’t be an Arrowverse-Show. So that was it for this one.

#Arrowverse #Supergirl #Batwoman #Legends of Tomorrow #The Flash #Superman & Lois #Armageddon #Supergirl Season 6 #Supergirl Finale #batwoman season 3 #Legends of Tomorrow Season 7 #the flash season 8 #Superman & Lois Season 2

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sergeant-donny-donowitz · 5 years ago

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The Final Bow (Inglourious Basterds Fic)

Requested by @baldwin-iv "Hello, hope you are well. If it isn't too much trouble, I was wondering if you could do Donny meeting an Italian nationalist who works with Hans Landa during operation Kino. Thank you!"

A/N: Changed it up a little, sorry luv, it just felt weird to make it xReader so I made an OC :)

@owba-chan @war-obsessed @inglourious-imagines @tealaquinn @struggling-bee @frozenhuntress67 @kwyloz @sodapop182

Let me know if you wanna be added to the IB or OUATIH taglists! :)

_____________________________ Renatta Castelluccio was Hans Landa's escort to the premiere of Nation's Pride. He pulled her away from the crowd, and led her to meet her counterparts. Bridget von Hammersmark's escorts.

Renatta knew exactly who they were. How could she forget the man with the scar across his throat? He dropped into her town in Italy, just before she left for Germany. Her father was a high ranking officer under Mussolini, and used her as a pawn in negotiations. She'd grown up with that regime, and believed every word of every poster and incendiary reel until she left, and saw what fascism really meant, along with the innocent blood it shed. She was contacted by the OSS, and given a chance to be a spy, and help the allies, but she feared facing a firing squad, and quickly declined. She never spoke up, not at home, and not in Germany. Renatta spent every waking moment of her life drowning in guilt, knowing what she once stood for, and what it all had led to. Still, she was smothered in fear of what would happen if she ever said a word. She was a coward, and knew she was just as guilty as the killers. Years of silence, passive smiles, and polite nods led her to this point. She could cry, beg for forgiveness from the basterds themselves, but, for what? Ruin whatever plan they undoubtedly had? "Banwjor-no." She decided once again to stay silent. She knew Hans wanted to use her to humiliate their attempt to pass off as Italians. "Graht-see."

Her eyes welled up. Once again, a pawn in a plan to fuel hate filled speeches and regimes. She tilted her head up, looking at the blood stained banners and stolen art planted there by the nazis. She knew she was no better than them. Renatta Castelluccio, an accessory to crime against her own nation, and a spineless, voiceless pit of shame and regret. Her eyes fell on Donny. He was trying his best, she knew, but his eyes were momentarily fixated on her leg, peeking through a slit in her emerald green dress. She glanced hurriedly at her escort, Hans Landa, who she despised with what was left of her soul. He'd repeatedly proposed to her, and she always politely refused, saying it was not right to marry during war. Secretly, she hoped he would die in the war, or would be charged with war crimes. He didn't notice Donny's wandering gaze, he was too busy being amused at the way they pronounced their fake names. "Margherittiiiiiiiii."

Renatta half smiled, though her heart beat in her throat, as she wished to find a way to help them, and for once do something right. Soon after Landa sent the basterds on their way. As he plotted his way into Operation Kino and a path to Nantucket Island, he sent Renatta to her seat as well. Donny lagged a little behind Omar, as a crowd of drinking nazis and half naked women merged between them. Donny couldn't take a chance and call out to Omar. It was unecessary attention. But, as he waited to make his way in, he felt a hand on his arm, pulling him back. Omar turned around, and saw. He raised an eyebrow, and cheekily smirked a little, before disappearing into the theater. He turned and saw Renatta, as she pulled Donny back, into an office away from the crowd. Donny grinned, trying to hide his nerves, "Buongio-" She shook her head, "I know who you are." "Uh... Sì...Antonio Marg-" "You're not Italian, I know..." She smiled softly, stepping closer to him, and touching the side of his cheek, "You're a basterd..." Before he could react, she said everything she had to amidst pleas and kisses. She told him all about Landa, how to go about it, "Whatever your plan is, he is the one you can not underestimate." Donny frowned, his hands around her waist, and pulled his head back a little, "Why are you telling me this?" Renatta looked down, and saw Donny pressing a gun against the bottom of her rib cage. She shook her head, "Because I have seen things that could've been pages from the Inferno." Donny had never read it, but it didn't sound good. "Things that should never be, sergeant..." Donny at that moment, looked into her eyes. If what people said about eyes being the window to the soul was true, then all he could see was a terrified one. "I once had the intention of being an informant for the allies, but I was a coward...Whenever I opened my mouth, no words came out. So all I've done for years is stand by. Stand by and-" Tears streamed down her cheek, and Donny tilted his head to the side, absolutely confused. He didn't feel sympathy. Not for a former fascist. But he wanted to listen, and make sure he could trust her enough about Landa. "I've stood by and said nothing. Sometimes that's worse than actually pulling a trigger...just letting it happen. I never said..." She trailed off, looking away in shame, patting her eyes with the back of her black satin covered hands. "Never said what?" "I never said no." He stared at her blankly, not knowing what to make of it at all, "No. Such a powerful word," She laughed softly, pathetically, as she wiped away a silent tear. "It gets you killed here, there, these day. 'No'...that could have saved at least one life. Just one..." "Why are you telling me this?" "You're a basterd, everyone that's someone to the nazis is here. You have a plan, and I want to make sure Hans doesn't stop you." "I got it.” He nodded, and reluctantly sighed, “Go, now." "Wh...what are you talking about?" Never in her life had anyone given Renatta a second chance. "If what you say is true, this guy Landa's gonna be more worried about me and the boys than where you are. You have enough time to get out, and get far away without anyone here noticing." He fully stepped away from her, let go of her waist, and lowered his gun. He had all the information he needed. Kisses and bullets wouldn't be necessary. She shook her head. No one on either side of the war would show her any kind of mercy close to that. "I'll be shot for this, no matter how this turns out." Donny sighed, knowing the clock was ticking, and that she was right. She may have just betrayed Hans Landa, but it was not enough of a saving grace outside of Le Gamaar. He took one look at her, and saw a short, unlived life. Short enough to only have known regimes and gunfire. She looked directly into his eyes, "No matter how this turns out, what I do, I will die. Let me stay." "Stay?" "Let me watch these regimes burn," She pleaded softly, and whispered, "Senza gloria..." He shook his head, "No. Go. Get to somewhere safe..." He couldn't believe he'd just said that, but he couldn't take it back now. He looked at her, that cowardly mess, and thought if she saw Hans, she'd backtrack and fess up again. To stop that from happening, he needed her out of the theater. "Don't go looking for Landa. Get it?" She smiled, for the first time in years, without her lips being pulled by strings of manipulation, "Grazie..." They went their ways, and Donny sat with Omar in the theater. Omar chuckled, and whispered, "Signorina?" Donny shook his head, trying to sound Italian as possible, "Gone-o." Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Aldo and Bridget hadn't shown up, and it was almost show time. He eased his way back out, and stood at the top of the stairs, looking down over the balcony, searching for a sign of Aldo or Bridget. Instead, he saw Renatta again. She was in the lobby, speaking to Hans. He couldn't understand what they were saying, but he understood that she didn't listen to Donny. What's more, Donny couldn't trust her anymore.

By default, he had to believe she broke down and told Hans about their conversation. The clock was ticking.

Donny and Omar didn't have time for this. He turned his back, and made his way back to get Omar so they could go on with Operation Kino. With or without Aldo and Bridget, this had to be done. What Donny didn't see was Renatta taking a stand for the first time in her life. She slipped Hans' gun out of his pocket. He looked down at her, eyes wide in betrayal, but his lips twisted, "You wouldn't dare, my love. You've always been so pathetic." As tears streamed down her face, he smirked, his hand reaching over the barel of the gun, "You wouldn't, you cowar-" One single gunshot, drowned out by the crowd and the reel of propaganda. One single bullet, tearing through Landa's hand, and straight through his skull. He dropped to his knees, and looked up at her, blood pouring through his nose and mouth in a betrayed, final gargled breath. She looked down for a few moments, watching as blood pooled out slowly, and collected beneath her heels, staining the bottom of her trailing dress. This was the first and only blood she did not feel sorry for. Renatta walked back up the stairs, and made her way to the opera box, without her escort, and without an ounce of regret. In a moment, smoke appeared, along with a face on the screen, with a message and a plot for revenge.

Renatta didn't understand what was happening. But she didn't mind. She leaned back, and smiled softly with a sigh, "Che spettacolo...." 'What a show...' She watched as regimes fell before her very eyes in a blaze, as she waited to meet her end. It came unexpectedly, in a suit, and a fit of rage.

Donny Donowitz stood before her, cornering her in the opera box, "I gave you a chance." She didn't know why he suddenly seemed to retract his mercy, but she didn't question it. Whatever anger Donny felt was justified in her eyes. So, when he shot her, she said nothing.

She looked up at him, no blame or reproach in her eyes as her blood pooled through her dress and trickled down. She took a breath, and turned away from him, and for a moment, watched the war end before her eyes. In a few moments, the entire high command was gone. Donny joined Omar back on the stairs, and were on their way out of the theater, when Donny saw a body face down in the middle of the lobby. Omar panicked, "ALDO?!" Donny shook his head, "It's not a white suit..." He ran up, and turned the body over, revealing Hans Landa's cold, dead eyes, and twisted grin. Omar looked to Donny again, "Maybe Aldo did this." Aldo would have scalped or marked him. Donny knew that. "It wasn't him..." His eyes widened with realization. The last person he saw with Hans was Renatta. It had to be her. "Go. I'll meet you outside." "What?!" Donny pushed Omar toward the exit, "I forgot something. Go, now! That's a fucking order." Omar had no choice. He walked through the smoke and disappeared. Donny ran back to the opera box, the flames nearly reaching it. "Renatta." Her eyes were beginning to close, her breathing beginning to slow, and blood pooled beneath her. Donny was about to step into the box, but she shot up with what was left of her breath, "No!" "You killed Hans. You...you didn’t lie to me, you-" He stepped onto the box, and heard a low, loud rumble as Renatta pleaded, "Stay back!" He stopped in his tracks. If he stepped over to get her, the opera box would collapse and fall into the fire below. He crouched down, "Ok, crawl to me, we still have time. We have four minutes." She shook her head, struggling to breathe. She could hardly move. There was no more time for her. "It's too late for me, s-sergeant. Don't w-wait for me." "You don't...you don't know that!" She lifted her eyes to look at him, and saw a shade of remorse. She shook her head slowly, trying to convince him, "I'll slow you down. You have time, I don't." "I'm...I'm sorry..." She shook her head again, smiling kindly at him. He could barely hear her voice over the roar of the fire, and the last few screams below, "Don't ever be sorry for what you've done here, soldier..." She gasped for a breath, "You're a g-good man." His head tilted to the side, as he spoke softly, "Renatta..." She pulled herself up, the balcony beginning to rumble lowly again. Renatta held on to the banister of the opera box, and looked over at the hellfire, watching the final few below writhe and scream, "Leave me here. There is no other place for a coward like me on this earth." "Don't..." She turned her head a little, not enough to meet him face to face again, just enough to see him out of the corner of her eye.

"Don't you understand? No matter what happened tonight, I was not going to survive the end of the war." She looked back out at the fire devouring the cinema and the high command, "Let me go," She shut her eyes and whispered, "Senza gloria... I deserve nothing more than this..."

"Renatta." "You have a minute left. Don't waste a lifetime for an inglourious moment with me." He nodded slowly and backed away from the creaking opera box. He reached the closest staircase, and looked back. All he could hear was the rumbling of the opera box, the roar of the fire, and Renatta whispering once again, “Senza gloria...” In her last moments, Renatta held her head up high, watching her impending inglourious fate approach her in silence. blood dripping down her dress, with one final smile, she watched the curtains close: The nazis' banners falling into the fire below. He left her, and made his way back outisde. He stood across the street with Omar, waiting for the grand finale. Omar broke the eerie silence as smoke began to rise above the street, "You let the Italian girl go, didn't you?" He didn’t see Donny shoot her. Donny nodded, "Yeah." Donny watched as the smoke rose, and knew that Renatta was right. No matter what he did, or she did, she was not going to live past the end of the war. No matter what happened, whether or not Operation Kino fell through, she would have been executed by the winner of the war. If the basterds failed, she would be killed as a traitor, and if they succeeded and she ran away, she’d be killed as a collaborator. She got out of it, and it was what she wanted most, to finally speak up. They watched as the cinema took its final bow, in a blaze of vengeance and ashes of atonement.

Donny nodded with a sigh, and a soft smile, hearing her voice one last time, as though it came with the wind that fueled the flames, "Senza gloria..."

#Inglourious Basterds

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poppibranchlover · 4 years ago

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Nine Lives, One Fight - Part 21

The story: Deep in the forest of Troll Town, there lies a mysterious tiny purple mushroom that has a secret magical ability. King Peppy calls this mushroom forbidden for all Trolls to go near it. One day, while Branch is out in the woods doing his survival research studying, he encounters it and, not knowing it is a regular mushroom, decides to harvest it and bring it home. But in the next morning, its magic effects transform him into a small blue cat! After being sent to the animal pound, his girlfriend, Poppy, finds him and decides to adopt him, although not recognizing it is Branch. Desperate to finish his research project due for a special event invented by Poppy, Branch is forced to learn how to behave like a pet cat and must figure out what caused him to become one.

You already seen what had happened in Part 20. Now get ready for Part 21!:

Flinging herself into her pod with her hair, Poppy didn’t stop until she got into her bedroom. Then she threw herself down on her bed and broke into sobs.

Poppy laid down motionless. Overwhelmed by the loss of her boyfriend, she clutched on to her pillow and wept. With tears in her eyes, she moved a picture frame beside her pillows and looked at it. The frame had a picture of Poppy and Branch, sitting on a hill together and giving each other loving looks.

Poppy sighed at the photo. She had never felt so distraught in herself.

“Oh, Branch,” she said softly, her eyes full of sadness. “I knew you’re always there for me, but you can’t be gone forever.”

One of her tears dropped down to the picture frame. The memory of Branch made Poppy feel even worse.

She decided to settle herself for a good night’s rest. Tomorrow she would surely feel much better. Poppy turned on her side and closed her eyes, welcoming sleep to take hold of her.

During her sleep, a light suddenly flared into existence, dim behind Poppy’s closed eyelids. She clenched her eyes tighter together and rolled over to escape the small nuisance. The light was still there, and the warm and cozy bed was a little less so. Poppy opened her eyes to a sliver, then fully so.

A spotlight? And the bed was gone, replaced by a rough, stone floor. Poppy lifted herself off the ground and slowly made her way towards the lit area. What was this place? Was I dreaming? she thought. She reached the spot and bathed in the light. A black void surrounded her in every direction, except for the moon, which was positioned in the center of a starless sky.

This place… it felt so lonely… and so familiar, like Poppy knew everything about it, but didn’t recognize it at all. Every time she closed her eyes, she would see this, feel this, live this. It was almost like this was in her own mind.

Poppy began to sing to capture her mood:

You rest inside my mind

Since the day you came

A wind blew around her, pushing the fog away and leaving her untouched. Long-familiar features finally began to come into focus. First a rocky floor, then the center studying table, followed by the walls with shelves and baskets of supplies and survival equipment.

Poppy knew this place. “Branch’s bunker!” she whispered, putting her hands up to her mouth and tears running down her face. She must be dreaming!

“Come on, Branch! I knew you wouldn’t miss the big day!”

Poppy’s eyes shot fully open. She knew that voice from out of nowhere…it was her own.

“I don’t know about this, Poppy.”

The pink Troll turned around and found a projection of herself talking to Branch, who was in Troll form in that time of the day. They glowed, with trails of foggy light seemingly evaporating off of them and disappearing into thin air.

“Why don’t you want to come to their wedding?”

Branch rubbed his chin, his eyes speaking volumes about his apprehension. “Are you sure your best friend will be alright to marry the king?” he asked Poppy.

“Of course!” Poppy told him enthusiastically. “Bridget and King Gristle are getting married today! They’re inviting all of us to their wedding! Why you want miss the chance to go to Bergen Town again? I thought you liked Bergens because they don’t eat us anymore!”

“I know!” Branch said awkwardly, nodding and raising his arms up. Then he hung his head, feeling a wave of sadness across his face. “It’s just...if only my grandma were here to see our happy village.”

Poppy clenched her eyes shut, remembering the day she used to comfort Branch over the loss of his grandma, who got eaten by the Bergen Chef when he was a little young boy a long time ago.

The foggy image of Poppy hugged Branch, and he hugged back, enjoying the pressure of her big warm hugs. “Oh, Branch,” she told him. “I can see how you felt. But now that we made peace with the Bergens and you regained your true colors, there is nothing to worry about. I’m sure your grandma will be so proud of you, smiling down from heaven.”

“Thank you, Poppy,” Branch said gratefully. “You were always there for me when you helped me to be happy.”

“And I knew you always were,” Poppy added.

The two Trolls looked at each other lovingly and leaned forward, bringing each other’s lips close...

Poppy’s body trembled against the threat of tears. She did her best to shake it off and watched as the apparitions of herself and Branch disappeared. His chance to see Bridget and King Gristle’s wedding would be the best from him… At least he got to see it, and she is glad he enjoyed it. She quietly sung a few words:

I knew you would be with me

All the time we spent

“Hey, Poppy! How’s it going?”

Poppy got startled from her song when another memory of herself visiting Branch again sprung up to the right.

Her image approached Branch. “Hey there, Branch!” she said proudly. She noticed that he is stashing some acorns in a bag. “What are you doing?”

“Storing food for the winter,” he said. “Why are you here? Aren’t you cold?” Branch looked so worried that she might be getting a frostbite if she went to his bunker without any warm clothes. He turned to a closet and cried “Let me get you some warm clothing!”

“No,” Poppy corrected him. “How could you forget? I’m here to give you a Christmas present!”

Poppy immediately remembered this! It was Christmas in Troll Village, and she went to visit Branch’s bunker to offer him a holiday blessing. Thankfully, Branch was able to accept the offer and unwrapped his gift with mere anticipation.

Branch’s jaw dropped open wide at his Christmas present. He was totally speechless at what Poppy give to him. “Whoa! No way!” he said, excitement gripped his throat. “A SuperTroll action figure?!”

Poppy tried not to laugh so that her boyfriend can agree with her. “Yes!” she squeaked, nearly throwing her arms wide to hug him.

Branch was overwhelmed with love and admiration. After pulling himself away from her hug, he moved his SuperTroll toy around, pretending that it can fly. “You’re the best, Poppy!” he said happily. “How can I ever thank you for this?”

“Well, you can always thank me as much as you want!” Poppy said proudly, smirking at him. Then she yanked him to the bunker elevator, and Branch was suddenly confused.

“Where are you taking me?” he asked.

“I’m sure you would love a good snowball fight!” said Poppy, bouncing up and down with excitement.

“Um, what are you talking about?” Branch didn’t understand what she was planning for him.

“Come outside! I’m sure you’ll love the snow!” With pride in her step and a determined smirk, Poppy hopped on the elevator platform, with Branch pulling the lever, rising themselves upwards into a flash of green fog. That was always like Branch; no matter what the situation, he would always be willing to come with her and help her, whether he enjoyed the fun or not.

As the memory disappeared, Poppy sang:

What we shared was surely

Warm enough to know you cared for me

“DANCE BREAK!!!” A familiar cry caught her ear; Poppy turned to see herself preparing to dance excitedly while Branch overreacted in horror.

She recognized this moment. Branch had never been too keen on overreacting just for the fun of himself. He’d only ever overreacted in some circumstances whenever something for a party was forgotten. One day, it was Guy Diamond’s birthday party at that time, and Poppy and Branch wanted to organize the party with a huge success, and they were busy setting up the balloons and banquet. During that one moment of preparation, Poppy started doing a victory dance and Branch nearly panicked, as if they were forgetting something.

“Clear the area!” he yelled, frantically looking around and waving his arms around. “Check for potential tripping hazards! Establish a perimeter for an open path for non-dancing Trolls to pass!”

Finally, Branch faced Poppy, who was staring at him and knew he had overreacted once. He threw his hands up in the air and dramatically cried out “DO WE HAVE ENOUGH LIQUID IN THE AREA FOR HYDRATION?!”

For a moment, everything was silent. Branch turned to Poppy’s glaring expression and hung his head, embarrassed at his outburst. “Okay then, point taken,” he said. “I’m sorry. I was overreacting for the sake of myself.”

Poppy’s image giggled and offered a genuine smile. She pushed her fist against Branch’s shoulder to playfully tease him before being engulfed in the fog of her mind, like all the rest.

Poppy turned away and was met by a large opening in the wall. She stepped outside into an open field, lit only by a sun hidden far below the horizon and a plethora of scattered stars. A green mist materialized beside a pod far from her gaze. It slowed and the fog fell off, revealing another image of herself, giggling as she showed Branch a drawing of himself with a porcupine quill-like hairstyle, whom he grimaced at. Poppy couldn’t place this memory, but it was yet another time they were at Maddy’s barber shop. Just as soon as they appeared, they disintegrated into ashes and disappeared into the night sky.

Poppy closed her eyes, taking in the sounds of chirping insects in the tall grass. Sounds became muffled, as if she’d been placed behind a window and was no longer really there. She opened her eyes to the sight of trees sprouting out of the earth, surrounding her wherever she turned.

Once again, the familiar faces of this dream appeared, appearing in a forest, only to disappear once more as each memory tended to do. To calm herself down, Poppy sang as the images played out from her mind:

Light floods through memories

Helps me walk my path

As she kept singing, Poppy was now on a rotating pedestal, lifted up high enough that she would be out of reach. On the memories played, showing her more of the happy times she had with Branch: the time when Poppy was curious of an emergency lever encased in a glass box he had created in the corner of his bunker and Branch warned her for her safety, advising her not to break the glass and pull it unless there will be danger.

She remembered the time when she sheepishly told the truth to him after she accidentally breaks his vase made out of clay.

Poppy also remembers that one time she discovers his polished brass knuckles in his drawer, leading Branch to snatch it from her as she teasingly held her hand high from him, her fingers buckled within the shiny object. The memories surrounded Poppy with such dizzying velocity that she felt the need to curl up in a ball and hide.

She quietly sang some words as her voice nearly shook:

I'll keep my head up high

Words of faith and love

Your strength gives me hope

Someday I'll find you with open arms

The memories all vanished in the fire of the setting sun, not unlike the one that had greeted her when she arrived home.

It was quiet. Poppy wasn’t sure she would hear it if she even spoke, but slowly a sound echoed around her. Ahead of her was a large clearing occupied by endless lumps of snow. Cut through the center of the area was a path, and the source of the sound.

Another ghostly image of Poppy ran down the path towards her. This memory was different. There was an urgency in her step, and Branch was nowhere to be seen.

“Poppy?”

Her breath caught as she faced a Troll with blue hair wearing a scarf, with his back facing her. Right in front of her, staring down the path, was Branch.

As Poppy’s mirror image closed in, Branch gave a happy wave before running in and hugging her tight. She looked on, as a lump formed inside her throat and a pang of sadness took hold of her. The other Poppy had tears in her eyes when she embraced Branch in the middle of the snow.

“What’s wrong, Poppy?” he asked in the memory, concerned about her emotion.

“Nothing,” she wept, trying to smile.

“Tell me what is wrong with you,” Branch said in his gentle voice. He lifted her chin with one hand to make her look directly into his eyes, but the sad pink Troll is unable to be comforted, looking down at the ground and crying.

“Don’t cry,” Branch said warmly, doing his best to comfort her. “It’s okay. I’m right here now. You can tell me what is your problem.”

“Branch, there is something I need to tell you,” Poppy said sadly.

“What is it?” asked Branch, pulling her tightly into his arms.

“One day, what if you leave me and get yourself into trouble? What’s gonna happen?” Poppy quickly paused for a moment, trying to hold back her sobs. Branch hugged her close, and she broke down in his arms. She poured out her sorrows and upcoming predictions to him. He listened without interrupting before he gently comforted her. He gave her valuable advice while he hugs her tight, assuring her that it was not the end of the world and that soon, all would be well.

“Nothing’s going to separate you from me,” Branch assured her, smiling. “It’ll be fine, Poppy. I’ll always be right here…in your heart.” He pointed out his finger to her chest as he said this, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Poppy leaned in close to his touch and was able to calm down. Together, they gazed lovingly at the beautiful sunset far from them.

Poppy forced her eyes shut, wishing the image would go away. That was it, the lie she had ever heard of her life. Why didn’t Branch have the guts to just tell the truth of his mistakes? At least if only he had told her… If he had told her that he accidentally pulled out the Archaeo morphisis mushroom that one single night, then maybe she’d at least know what to expect. She would have stop him from touching the mushroom, which Branch would then have to choose to lie about, or tell the terrible truth.

But it was too late to save his life now. Branch did promised that he will not leave her side, but he broke it for now. Her entire life is shattering to pieces as she predicted that she would live in a world without a village grump walking around and carrying sticks in his arms. Poppy knew Branch decided to lie, anyway, with the hopes that she could somehow conjure up the miracle cure needed to save him. But now she had failed him, and he would never forgive her.

Plus, she would never forgive herself too.

The world around Poppy grew dark, and her eyes grew heavy. The weight she had been carrying finally pushed her down to the ground. Her head became light and she felt the life escaping her as the air in her lungs escaped through constricting pressure. Tears streamed down her face through her closed eyes, dripping onto the packed dirt beneath her.

“You promised me to not leave me, Branch,” she murmured. “I know you were always in my heart...”

Soon, Poppy shot out of bed in reality, still holding on to her photo frame of herself and Branch and gasping for any air she could take in. Her body trembled as she fought to catch her breath.

Once Poppy managed to calm down, she sat back against the pillow and studied the darkness in her room. She could see faint silhouettes scattered around her. She fixated on one of them, studying the intricate curves of the craft. Suddenly, a ghostly mist began to weave around the object, and it began to turn to face her. Poppy shook her head and looked again; it was gone. Just her mind playing tricks on her.

The dream was still clear in her mind. Memory after memory, the happiness between Poppy and Branch was apparent, except for that last one. Branch had been scared and looked to her for answers. He trusted her, and she betrayed that trust.

One thing each memory had in common, though, was that Branch was always there. He was always there for her when she needed him. So why, after a few days of disappearing, was she not by his side now?

Without anyone to hug and comfort at bedtime, Poppy felt completely lost and alone. She looked up at the darkened pink ceiling and sighed. “Branch, where were you when you always need me?” she wondered. She couldn’t think where he had gone to, and hoped that he would be in a better place any time now.

Meanwhile, deep in the woods, Branch, stuck in his cat form, sat on a cliff near a river, heartbroken. It had been a long time since he had been chased by the Animal Control officer an hour ago. A cold breeze drifted over him and he shuddered. He had no idea how many hours he had been sitting here. With a deep sigh, he placed his chin between his front paws and brushed at the tearstains dripping out of his whiskers.

Branch gazed down at the river, where he can see his own reflection. He had never felt so hopeless in his life. Then he spotted a small rock in front of him and flicked it with his paw, sending it dropping into the water.

The liquid rippled, and through his own eyes, he can see that his watery reflection changed into his old Troll self, all dressed in his usual green vest and brown shorts and with pointed elf-like ears sticking out on the sides of his head.

Branch took a moment to look down at the reflection in the river. Seeing his Troll form down there made him feel even more worse. He closed his eyes and shed a tear, letting it fall into the river again. When the water rippled again, his reflection reverted to his cat form.

Dropping his head to his front paws, Branch sighed and curled his long blue tail around his body, blaming himself for ignoring Poppy and King Peppy’s warnings. The life he had always known was gone forever, and he needed to accept his fate.

To Be Continued...

Stay tuned for Part 22!

Note: This time, there were not much pictures in this one. For the most part, I'm very happy with how it turned out! The part is based off the music video “Memories” that I created last year, with some parts of it incorporated into the paragraphs. I hope I did the video justice because it really was incredible to me.

I give you a link to the video! I dare you to watch it while you read through this part because it is linked to it.

Click here for the “Memories” music video! Good luck reading it! 😊💙💖

#dreamworks trolls #poppy and branch #broppy #poppy #branch #cat #cat branch #branch the cat #cat branch story #nine lives one fight #fanfiction #memories #serah's theme

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matrixaffiliate · 4 years ago

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Chapter Update! FFN and AO3

Two chapters today, because I know last week's ending was a cliffhanger and I do have a heart. :) Next week's update is on Saturday, September 5th, and we'll move to Vic's POV for a little bit.

Chapter 6

Ted spent the weekend holed up in his flat. He didn't come out of his bedroom after he got home on Friday and only interacted with other people long enough to text his dad that he'd been shot down. He told Nicki he had the chills on Saturday and stayed in his room, and he only came out for a couple of microwave meals on Sunday.

When Monday finally rolled around, he picked himself up out of his bed, sat himself down at his desk, and tried to pretend like he didn't feel like dying as he dialed Ron.

"Hey, Ted, how can I help you?"

"Hey, Ron, do you have a moment?"

"Of course, I told you to call for anything."

Ted fiddled with a pen on his desk. "Well, you had mentioned the possibility of moving me to your marketing department if I proved myself, and in six months I've been able to more than double your clients and expanded your client base to a few franchises and several more stand-alone restaurants and bakeries than what you had when I started working for you. I'm hoping I've been able to show you I'm ready for the transfer."

Ron was quiet for several seconds before he finally spoke.

"You want to be transferred now?"

"Yes."

"I see," Ron hummed for a long moment. "Ted, have you had a paid day since you started working for me?"

Ted took the phone from his ear to make sure he'd called Ron and not one of his uncles.

"No, I haven't."

What the bloody hell did that have to do with anything?

"Tell you what, I'm going to need some time to figure all this out, but I don't want to make you keep pushing sales if you want to be in marketing, Ted. So, I want to give you two weeks of paid time off, don't worry about putting it in the calendar, I'll take care of everything. You take these two weeks to take care of you and yours, and I'll see what I can put together for you. Do we have a deal?"

Ted looked at his phone screen again. What was happening?

"Yeah, er yes, yes we do. Thank you."

"My pleasure, now go on a holiday or play Nintendo or whatever and don't turn on your laptop for the next two weeks."

Ted chuckled, "Thanks boss, I'll talk to you in two weeks."

They hung up and Ted checked for a third time that he'd dialed Ron's number. What was going on?

He now had the next two weeks free. That felt very weird. He hadn't had more than three days in a row off since A-Levels. But business school thankfully kicked in and Ted created and then set his email to his out-of-office auto-reply and Ron's contact information for emergencies. Ted texted Ron that his desk phone was forwarded to his cell from Friday, and Ron promised to take care of it by the end of the day. Ted would normally record a message that he was out of office, but as that required him to go into the office, Ted determined that anyone who called could just wait for Ron to call them back.

And then Ted went back to bed.

He was having an insane dream of trying to stop Vic's wedding but no one could see him or hear him when a rough hand shook him awake.

Ted blinked his eyes open to see Harry standing over him.

"Is everything alright?" Ted pushed up, worried that Harry had come because someone else in the family was in trouble.

"You tell me, mate."

Ted shook his head, "No, I mean is everyone alright? Are you here because someone's in trouble?"

"Oh, no, everyone else is fine. But I got a call from your dad asking if I'd check in on you since you'd had a rough couple days at work, and then I got a call from Ron asking if everything was alright with you and that he'd just given you the next two weeks off. So, what part of the story am I missing?"

Ted pulled his covers over his head.

"When have I ever steered you wrong, Ted?" Harry gave a tug on the sheets.

"This damned job, Harry," Ted shot back, and immediately regretted it.

"Does that come with an explanation? Or is this like with Jamie when I have to figure it out for myself?"

Ted bristled at being compared to his teenage god-brother, but that annoying voice in his head pointed out that Harry wasn't wrong in his comparison.

"Fine," Ted pushed up out of his covers and moved to sit at his desk. "Look, I appreciated the job opportunity, really, and everything I'm telling you is in confidence, Marauders family only, alright?"

"You got it, mate," Harry nodded.

Ted looked down at his backpack and shoved it against his desk trying to find any outlet for his emotions.

"Long story short, I fell in love with Victoire."

Harry let out a long whistle.

"And I told her I was in love with her on Friday, and she shot me down, obviously, because she's engaged."

Harry chuckled, and Ted shot him a glare.

"I'm not laughing at you, just at some of the words Bill has used to describe Sean over the past couple weeks."

"Bill sounds like a smart bloke." Ted let out a hollow laugh.

"That's why you asked Ron to be transferred?"

"Would you want to tell Ginny you love her, have her tell you to hit the road, and then have to spend eight to nine hours five days a week with her?" Ted finally looked up at Harry.

Harry nodded, "I definitely get why you want out. I just…"

"What?"

"I wish I could tell you what to do." He shoved his hand in his hair. "I honestly have nothing."

"That's better than what your dad had to say." Ted shook his head.

"What did Dad tell you?" Harry frowned.

"Not me directly, but Uncle Peter met Aunt Bridget when she was dating someone else, and Uncle James told Uncle Peter to not give up on her."

"And Peter told you not to give up on Vic?"

"I didn't tell them her name, but yeah, he and Aunt Bridget told me to just wait for the timing to line up." Ted dropped his head to his chest. "I'm an idiot."

Harry shook his head. "I fancied Gin for over a year before we finally figured ourselves out, Ted."

"Not helping," Ted shook his head. "All of you never had to face the fact that the girl you were in love with agreed to marry someone that wasn't you. I never even had a chance and I deluded myself into thinking I did."

"Out of curiosity, what made you think you had a chance?" Harry leant forward and rested his arms on his knees.

Ted huffed. "She paid attention to me, pathetic right?"

"How, Ted? How did she pay attention to you?"

Ted threw himself back in his desk chair. "I don't know. She played along when I told her she had to guess my last name. She came with me and your kids to that chippy they like so much. She let me teach her business after work a couple of nights a week. She let me comfort her when Sean was being a dick to her. I took her to Mum's favorite chocolatier on Thursday." Ted felt the smile pull on his lips and hated himself for it.

Harry hummed and shook his head. "I hate not knowing what to tell you."

"I don't expect you to know everything anymore, Harry." Ted chuckled.

"Yeah, but this means at some point I'm not going to know what to tell my kids either." Harry laughed.

Ted grinned. "Thanks for coming by, I still feel like crap, but less so now that someone else knows, and it helps that you aren't telling me what an arse I am for going after a woman who was already spoken for."

"You're in good company. Gin was in multiple relationships over the year or so it took me to figure out how to tell her I fancied her. And we know about Peter and Bridgit. I can think of a few others as well." Harry chuckled. "Who knows, mate, maybe someday she figures it out and makes it back to you."

Ted shook his head. "I really appreciate the sentiment, but she's been putting up with Sean's crap for over a year and she's agreed to spend the rest of her life putting up with it. That's a fair indication that she isn't finding her way back to me."

Harry let out a long sigh. "Let's go grab lunch together. I know you've got time, and it would probably help you to have some normalcy right now."

Ted suddenly realized he had no idea what time it actually was, and that he was surprisingly hungry. He looked over at his phone and gawked at the readout.

"Is it really almost noon?"

"This is why your dad wanted me to check on you. I love you Ted, but you tend to try and sleep through your problems." Harry chuckled, "Get dressed, and let's get food."

Lunch with Harry was a good start to his enforced holiday, and while Teddy still felt like he had his heart ripped out of his chest, he at least felt like he could function in this state.

And maybe, if he could go out and have fun with Harry for lunch, maybe he could do it with friends too. So, Ted did a bit of shopping on his way home.

"What's all this?" Kalil walked in from work and looked around at the spread across their kitchen table.

"It's an apology, sort of," Ted ran a hand along the back of his neck. "I've been an awful friend for the last six or so months, and I want to make it up to you."

"With all our favorite foods?" Kalil snagged a crisp bag.

"And a Mario Kart showdown?" Ted offered.

"Oh, you are going down, Lupin!" Kalil laughed. "Let me get out of this button-up and I'm going to kick your trash!"

Ted laughed as he realized how much he had missed being friends with Kalil.

"How are things with Nicki going?" Kalil asked after he'd beat Ted for the umpteenth time.

"We have a lot of fun pub hopping, but it's hard to get to know someone that way." Ted popped a crisp in his mouth.

"So, you ask her to dinner?" Kalil looked at him like he was an idiot. "I mean you had lunch together that one time, right?"

"I know, mate, I just wasn't sure if I was ready yet, you know? But I think maybe, maybe I am?"

"Ted, you're a great bloke, and Nicki is awesome. Just give it a go. The worst that happens is that you find out you two aren't there and you move on."

Ted snorted, "Easy for you to say. You've been with Maira since before we met."

"Some of us get lucky." Kalil shrugged. "And speaking of that, keep this to yourself, but when the lease runs out in August, I'm hoping you'll need a new roommate."

Ted blinked, "You're kidding?"

Kalil grinned, "Not in the slightest. I bought the ring on Saturday."

"I'll start looking at cheaper places closer to work then." Ted grinned back.

"I still have to ask her. Don't sign anything until that ring is on her finger.

"She's going to say yes, you prat," Ted laughed.

"That's what I'm hoping for," Kalil picked up his controller, "but if she turns me down, at least I know I can still kick your trash at this game."

Ted rolled his eyes and started the next round.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

He was being ridiculous. It was stupid to be nervous about asking Nicki to dinner. Kalil was right, they'd gone to lunch that one time and they'd gone pub-hopping almost every weekend since Vic got engaged. He shouldn't be low key freaking out. He should be looking forward to caring enough to try with Nicki because as much as he hated it until Vic shut him down, he hadn't been trying at all.

It was time to stop pretending that Vic was it for him. It was time to put forth the effort where things could lead to happiness as opposed to misery and heartbreak. It was time to move on.

So, on Tuesday, he called during what he hoped would be her lunch hour.

"Ted! How are you?"

"I'm good, I er, I was wondering if you had a free night this week? Thought I could convince you to let me take you to dinner." Ted wished his voice sounded more level and less like he was twelve.

"I think I could handle that," Nicki laughed, "How about tomorrow night?

Ted tried not to sigh in relief. "Sounds good, I'll pick you up at half seven?"

"I can't wait," Nicki sounded like she was smiling.

Ted let some of his nervousness out in a soft chuckle, "Me either."

He spent the rest of the day ignoring what a mess he was inside; he had no idea how to fix himself, but he consoled himself by saying at least he was doing something.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

"This is pretty cool, Ted." Nicki looked around the small Korean restaurant he found. Today she wore a neon purple spandex shirt under an orange sweater and her teal pants.

"Well, since you told me I was deprived because I never tried kimchi, I figured I should probably let you lead me through Korean cuisine." Ted tapped her menu. "So, whatever you order is what I'm eating."

Nicki pursed her lips. "How do you handle spicy food?"

"Not as hot as my uncle makes his Indian food, but I like spicy food that doesn't make me feel like I'm going to die when I eat it."

Nicki laughed and set her menu down. "Fair enough, we'll get my favorites then and you can decide if you like Korean food or not."

The server arrived and Nicki ordered in Korean. Ted smiled; he liked the way it sounded. Korean had a cadence to it that pulled him in.

"So, what are we eating tonight?" Ted asked as the server walked away.

"I'm starting you out easy," Nicki teased and kicked his foot under the table. "We're having kimchi fried rice and bulgogi."

Ted kicked her foot back, "Worried I can't handle anything more?"

Nicki nodded, "That's exactly what I'm thinking."

"I'm wounded!" Ted laughed, "I had no idea you thought so little of me!"

"You're pretty thick then," Nicki smiled, "I only turn down every opportunity to be around you."

"Typical idiot, I am," Ted grinned back at her.

It fell quiet and Ted felt awkward in the silence. He felt like he should have something more to say, but nothing came to mind, so he reached for his water instead and tried to ignore how he'd never felt awkward in the silences he'd had with Vic.

Somehow Nicki managed to move them back into small talk until their food arrived, and Ted found out how much he liked Korean food.

"Really, Nicki, this is amazing." Ted took another bite of the kimchi fried rice.

"See, I told you that you had been deprived."

"We are going to have to come back, I need you to show me what else I'm missing out on."

"So, does that mean I'll get another date?" Nicki laughed.

Ted ignored the part of him that was put out that Nicki wanted a second date with him when Vic hadn't wanted anything to do with him.

"I mean if you can put up with me," he shrugged.

Nicki shook her head as she chuckled. "You're not half bad, Ted, I would probably say yes to a second date."

"Then I'll consider myself lucky," he raised his glass to her.

"There's a local band I like that'll be playing a pub on Friday." Nicki smiled at him. "Feel up to some new music?"

Ted smiled back at her, it felt good to feel wanted.

"I am always up for new music. When should I pick you up?"

"Be at mine at 7?"

"You can count on it." The server returned with Ted's card and Ted thanked him before sliding his wallet back into his pocket.

But Ted didn't count on how much his brain would spend the next two days wishing it was Vic he was seeing again instead of Nicki. Which made him feel like a right prat. Nicki was fantastic. She was spunk and energy. She was composed and self-sure. And she was interested in him. He should be excited, he should be thinking about how great she was, he should be forgetting Vic and moving on. All his self-berating didn't do anything to stop himself from thinking about Vic though. Ted found his brain constantly drifted back to Vic.

Thankfully, Thursday came with a small distraction, in the form of a phone call from a number Ted didn't recognize.

"Hello, is this Edward Lupin?"

"Yes," Ted frowned. "How can I help you?"

"This is Kevin Wilks, I'm the marketing manager at Live Graphics, Nicki Choi gave us your resume."

"Oh, hello, yes, thank you for getting back to me so quickly."

"Yes, well, I must admit that your work with Bread & Butter is impressive, but we're hiring for a higher-level position and I need someone with more marketing-specific experience. However, we do have an opening in sales, and if you'd like I can pass your resume over to them? I think you'd be exactly what they are looking for."

Ted held back his dejected sigh, "Thanks, Kevin, but I think I'll pass. I'm hoping to transition into marketing since that is my degree. I appreciate you reaching out to me though."

"I figured that would be your response, but I wanted to be sure. Nicki is a friend and I didn't want to let her down."

"Thank you, I'll be sure she knows you did your best."

Ted looked at his phone after the call had disconnected. Why did he somehow feel that this was going to push him to keep working with Vic? And why did a part of him want it to?

Finally, Friday night rolled around and Ted was grateful for the distraction. Pub hopping with Nicki was easy. It was something he could do without worrying about anything being official, without worrying about how his mind kept coming back to Vic.

"They're good, right?" Nicki stole one of his last chips as they listened to the band play, her pink shirt sparkled with glitter and Ted was positive that he was going to be finding glitter in his car for the next year.

Ted grinned at her, "They aren't my usual fare, but I admit they're growing on me."

Nicki bumped his shoulder and scooted closer. Ted let his arm fall around her shoulders. This was nice and he felt like he should be enjoying this more. He wanted it to feel like it did when he sat across the table from Vic at the chocolate shop. He wanted it to feel easy and encompassing.

Ted looked down at Nicki as the musicians took a ten-minute break and found her smiling up at him.

"Hey," her voice was quiet and Ted realized that if he wanted to, she was close enough for him to kiss her.

"Hey," Ted tried not to think about all the turmoil inside his head at that moment.

Instead, he kissed her.

Nicki tangled her fingers in his hair and Ted tried to keep his brain from comparing how different this kiss felt compared to the kiss he'd stolen from Vic. He tried to enjoy it. He tried to let it be the start of something new.

"Ted," Nicki pulled back just a bit, "are you not into this?"

Ted wanted to die.

"I'm an idiot." He sighed.

"Are you like, trying to figure yourself out?" Nicki put a supportive hand on his shoulder.

"No," Ted chuckled, "No, I'm just still not over her. I'm sorry, Nicki, this has been incredibly unfair to you."

Nicki tugged at his hand. "Let's go sit in your car. Maybe I can help you talk through this?"

Ted shook his head, "First of all, we're here to see your band play, and second, are you honestly telling me you want to hear me gripe about another girl?"

Nicki rolled her eyes. "Maira told me that you were struggling with a girl when she first called me. I knew you were hung up before I knew what you looked like."

"Wow, you certainly know how to boost a man's ego." Ted gripped his jeans.

"Come on," Nicki grabbed his hand, "I know the manager, she'll get us back in if we decide to keep going tonight."

Ted reluctantly followed her out to his car, but he had to admit, he was a lot less freaked out now that he wasn't surrounded by people.

"Alright, Ted, let's start with her name." Nicki kicked off her red boots and sat cross-legged in the passenger seat, her black leggings were partially covered by her long green socks.

Teddy leant his head back into the headrest.

"You're sure about this?"

"Come on, Hamlet, let's work through this."

Ted laughed, Nicki even used Hamlet jokes like Aunt Marlene and Aunt Lily. Why didn't he feel the way he did with Vic when he was with Nicki? She should have him wrapped around her finger. But no matter how hard Ted tried, he couldn't seem to connect with her the way he had with Vic.

"Alright, her name is Victoire."

"And…" Nicki threw her glove at his face.

Ted sighed and handed her glove back to her.

"And I work with her. She and I are the only ones in our office. I went and fell in love with her, and she accepted her boyfriend's proposal just before Christmas."

"Damn," Nicki turned up the heater.

"Yeah, and I was the dick that kissed her after I told her I had fallen in love with her." He looked over at Nicki. "This is where I'm expecting you to tell me what sort of sick lunatic I am and demand I take you home."

Nicki punched his arm, "Seriously, Hamlet, chill out. Should you have kissed an engaged woman, probably not, but did she kiss you back?"

Ted rubbed his arm, "I, er, I," then he smiled, "Yeah, yeah, she did kiss me back."

"Well, then obviously there's more going on. Any woman who doesn't immediately pull back and smack a man that kisses her who isn't the man she's currently engaged to, well, I would say that woman has a lot to figure out."

"I, er, I guess you have a point…" Ted trailed off as Nicki's words sunk in.

"Tell you what," Nicki pulled out two sticks of gum and handed him one. "Why don't you start at the beginning and tell me the whole thing. I'll be your relationship therapist for the night."

Ted took the gum but kept his eyes on Nicki. "Why are you so chill about this? I've been beating myself up since I met you because I thought I was using you to try and get over Vic. Don't you feel like I'm wasting your time?"

Nicki slid her gum wrapper in her clutch. "Ted, you're a good guy, but when we kissed, I just didn't feel anything. I would have called this over at the end of the night even if you weren't hung up on 'office girl' so let's just transition. I'd like to still be your friend if you can handle that."

Ted chuckled and wondered why he didn't feel put out that Nicki felt nothing when she kissed him.

"You're decent people, Nicki. Thank you."

Nicki shrugged, "Plus, I'm a sucker for a good story, so don't leave anything out. I want every sordid detail, Ted. That's my price for our friendship."

Ted was surprised at the relief he felt at knowing Nicki wasn't interested in dating him. And he was surprised at how tempting it was to unload everything to her. He hadn't done that with anyone else, he'd always left something out when he'd explained this before.

"This has to stay between us, Kalil doesn't know the half of this, and I'd like to keep being friends with him."

"Ooo, deep dark secrets, even better!" Nicki snapped her gum. "You, my friend, have a deal."

Ted laughed and leant his head back into the headrest. Then he started telling Nicki about the first time he saw Vic.

#Endeavor #tedoire #tedoire fanfiction #tedoire au #tedoire muggle au #teddy x vic #ted x vic #teddy lupin x victoire weasley #teddy lupin #victoire weasley #muggle au #next gen au #next generation #next generation muggle au #next gen fanfic #romance #fluff #coworkers romance #harry potter fanfiction

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hollenka99 · 5 years ago

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The One Where Jackie Takes Each Day As It Comes

Summary: Chapter 1. Jackie may not have a home but he’s meeting some friendly faces.

@bupine @badlypostedeverything

Spotting all the daily newspapers declare it was February 13th 2019 that first morning had been rough. Part of Jackie had wanted to believe it was a really elaborate prank. But the lads wouldn't be able to do something like that. Especially given the state they'd gotten themselves in at Stuart's party. Maybe it hadn't been a bad thing that Jackie decided to go easy on the alcohol. At least he didn't enter the next century completely hammered. Seeing couples out on Valentine's Day causes him to reflect. He spent that day missing Chris, which he had been in two minds about. And Nate. God knows how he'd be able to return home to 1986, if he could at all. Perhaps getting thrown three decades into the future was the thing he needed to sort that mess out internally. The risk of the band going their separate ways because two members broke up sounded more attractive now. Sure beat them disbanding because the drummer disappeared indefinitely or was presumed dead. Yeah, he would split from Chris to be with Nate if he had the chance now. It was the old question niggling in his mind: didn't he deserve to be with the one who made him happier than the other? Not like all that relationship drama mattered much when he had no worldly possessions except for his clothes now. Fuck the shit with those two anyway. He'd rather have Caoimhe in his arms any day. Whatever happens to her with him gone, Jackie hopes she is kept safe and loved. Okay, so maybe he was going to get teary about some things. There was no point exhausting himself with tears regarding all this. How would giving himself a massive headache help matters? It got worse the more he accepted his drastic life change. Dwelling on it all hurt. Bridget, Annette and Spencer must all be adults by now. His friends were in their 50s, like he should be himself. They all must be unrecognisable to him now. Like he said, dwelling on the currently inaccessible past was redundant. Instead, he did his best to find somewhere dry to sleep at night. Days were spent on the lookout for food. At least there was a water fountain near the bus station. It's fine. It's not like this is his first time taking each day as it came. He'll manage, one way or another. It's while Jackie is preoccupied with drinking someone's discarded hot chocolate that a man approaches him. The stranger's curls remind him of how his own hair used to be, prior to its current style. Freckles litter his face too. The smile seems genuine but he's been in this situation before. Jackie decides to cautiously give this stranger the benefit of the doubt. "You know how to play guitar?" American? Canadian? He doesn't know enough about those accents to distinguish them. "...Yes." "Here." The guy holds out his guitar case. "I don't need the change anymore. Got a decent job now and all that." "Thank you but I can't." "You look like you could do with a source of income. Stealing isn't exactly a reliable method of feeding yourself. Which reminds me..." An oat bar is retrieved. Through part of the plastic wrapping, it is visibly crumbling. "I'll admit, not in the best condition. Sorry about that. Still, please take it." Well, don't look a gift horse in the mouth and all that. "Thanks." "No problem. I'm Joel, by the way." He winks, heading a few feet away. "Jackie." The ground crumbles in front of where Joel stood. Straight up vanishes as if it hadn't existed in the first place. It wasn't like Jackie had never met someone with powers before but... it was certainly impressive to see this sort of stuff first hand. The outstretched leg, meant to be taking a step into oblivion, is retracted. There is a pause. Joel turns to face him once more. Still there is continued hesitation. "Listen, I shouldn't be saying this but... things are going to change soon. Just be careful. Anti's about and he likes targeting people who can uh, easily disappear." "Anti?" "There's a killer on the loose and I'd hate to see your face on the news for all the wrong reasons." And like that, Joel hops backwards into the hole. Jackie takes his advice and plays during the day. Playing acoustic guitar simply makes him miss rehearsals with the lads. Guitar wasn't even his instrument. That had been drums. Even so, their type of guitar had been electric. Not much comes from busking. He's rusty, he knows. He continues playing songs he recalls off by heart in the hope of earning a pound here and there. He supposes the public secretly question why he sang nothing but hits from 30 years ago. Days blur. The last time he'd bothered to check the date it had been the 21st. He didn't keep track of how many days ago that was. The wind has been blustery all day. It was for this very reason that Jackie had spent the majority of it as sheltered as he could. He notices a man passing by his spot who seems unaffected by the bad weather. He walks by as if they hadn't been suffering strong winds recently. That's not the only odd thing about the stranger. His choice of fashion is very interesting. His entire outfit is purple apart from the covered half of his face and his gloves. The white mask resembling a cat's face reached the top of his cheeks. To complete the look, the mask extends into triangular ears. Jackie feels the guy hitting his head must hurt even more with those attached. Jackie's presence must have been caught in his peripheral vision. Cat Guy halts and turns to him. Surprise transforms into a warm smile on his face. "Hey, I don't think I've seen you around here before. I'm guessing you haven't been living like this for long?" "About a week or two. Haven't been counting." "Tell me you at least have something to cover yourself with at night." "I try to find somewhere relatively warm. Ish." "Dude, it's February." "Yeah, tell me about it." Cat Guy removes his backpack. From it, he retrieves a water bottle and a blanket. "Good thing I tend to carry some stuff around. Ham or cheese?" "What?" "Sandwich." The stranger presents him with the gifts. Once Jackie takes the blanket and water, the superhero holds out an object encased in tin foil. "I tend to make ham and cheese ones. You're not vegan or a lactose intolerant vegetarian, are you?" "No. I'll uh... take the ham, thanks." "Oh, by the way, what's your name?" He could say John. Or Bartholomew. He doesn't have to say Jackie. Shit, he could say his name was Sean if he wanted, seeing as that was another form of his name. He didn't have to even provide a name that was half true. But eh, fuck it. It's not like this guy will find a Jackie Mann born in Ireland during the late 90s. "Jackie. And what should I call you, Mr Super Cat?" "Super Cat, wow." He laughs. "That's a new one. Well, I'm known as the Magnificent Cat around here. A bunch of people shorten it to Cat." Cat? Yeah, that sounds cool. The superhero carries on with his day a minute or two afterwards. He sees him tossing a sandwich and making brief conversation with the black woman situated on the corner of the street. Mondays and Thursdays rapidly become Jackie's favourite days of the week. Cat always swung by at some point in the day, making sure those living outside had certain necessities like food or some money. He had a habit of apologizing for not being able to give more than £5, as if that was a tiny amount to provide to each homeless person he catered to around the city. They typically talk but it never lasted long before Cat had to carry on with his rounds. Once, the superhero had to excuse himself due to a burglary being reported. Jackie also liked seeing this other guy who kept popping up over the days. They'd first met when Jackie had been performing Billie Jean. Marvin was a really nice, frequently sparing 2 or 3 pounds whenever he passed by Jackie. There were also their conversations. The topic didn't matter. They also varied in length but by far fulfilled his social quota better than Cat's busy schedule could. It was pleasant to have someone to talk to. Either way, he had two people in his corner which was two more than he'd expected. The first week of April is laden with rain. Waking up to a damp blanket sucked but it was hardly like he had anything else to cover himself with. At least it was gradually warming up now. The last thing Jackie wanted was hypothermia, let alone getting sick in general. He must be getting his days mixed up because he thought Cat's last visit was on a Thursday. Yet here he was, walking around as he tended to do. Jackie didn't hear him chatting with anyone else like he'd expected him to. It didn't matter. It was getting fairly late anyway. It wasn't as if Cat was prohibited from strolling around in his costume. Plus, he was under no obligation to be as social as he typically was. Saying hi to him as he passed wouldn't hurt though. "Cat! It's good to have a dry spell in the middle of all this bad weather, huh?" Jackie chuckles. "How are things going?" The superhero halts abruptly at this. It's almost like he didn't expect Jackie to be there. That was a little odd because this was his usual spot. However, he decided to brush it off as Cat having a long day. His theory is further solidified when he doesn't seem as in the mood to talk today. "Hey. Things are good." Cat smiles thoughtfully. "Actually, I've been meaning to show you this new community centre that opened recently. They're letting people sleep there if they want. It's technically within walking distance from here but it's much easier to get there by car. Want me to take you there?" He obliges Cat's generosity. They chat about how foot traffic had significantly dropped in the past few days due to the downpour. Cat points out his black car. He motions to Jackie that he'd be sitting at the back because unfortunately, there was a bunch of clutter in the front. The door is red when he grabs the handle. A couple blinks confirm it is still red. The darkness of the evening must have been confusing his ability to see colours properly. It also may be linked to this headache that's appeared out of nowhere. He really hopes this isn't a sign the rain has negatively affected his health. He'd rather focus on how lovely the interior of Cat's car was. The doors lock internally. He moves his head to direct a remark about it to Cat. Except it's not the superhero at all. There was no costume, only a dark hoodie. The first feature that causes him to stare when Cat faces him were those eyes. Was there even anything other than black in them? The hair too. He's never seen Cat without his mask on but he didn't think it would be dark green. Had Cat looked so pale all those other times? He's not certain. He definitely knows that grin belongs in Hell. "Funny how easily people will follow you if they think you're a friend. Isn't it?"

#jumbled au #my writing #writersofjack #jackie mann #the magnificent cat #antisepticeye #tw kidnapping #but it's more... luring away in this chapter

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rmg91 · 5 years ago

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The Woes and Antics of Living Together-11

I totally meant for this to end fluffy but it had other plans and it went a little angsty. Other than that though this is just a short, fluffy filler chapter since the last one was so involved. But I'll tell you all this, the next chapter's gonna be fun. Heehee~

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Previous Chapter/Next Chapter; AO3/FF.net

@writerofberk Chapter 11! Which has a little bit of everything!

~*~*~*~*~*~

Captain Starfunkles Roller Rink and Arcade was not Branch's ideal place to go, with it's old furniture and stained carpet. It was honestly a wonder how it was still in business with how unsanitary and unsafe everything appeared, but Poppy had insisted he join them. Actually she had dragged him here against his will the moment she saw he was going to decline Bridget's invitation. So now he was stuck sitting in a sticky booth with the Snack Packs various bags as they all skated around the rink.

Gristle and Bridget were skating side by side, holding hands and being sickening sweet with each other like they always were. Satin and Chenille were chatting with Biggie as they skated around the rink, Branch only catching a few words when Biggie tried to deny something about not having a crush loudly as they went by. Cooper and Smidge had been racing but it seemed the two had moved onto arcade challenges. And Poppy, Guy and Suki were performing spins and a tricks while making references to some show that had Guy calling everyone a 'Pork Cutlet Bowl'. Branch honestly didn't want to know. He had seen Creek skating along with everyone before he had rolled off somewhere to take a phone call.

Branch sighed as his eyes once again found his pink haired roommate out on the rink because try as he might he was unable to help himself from watching her. She just drew his attention to her no matter what she did. He loved seeing her amber eyes sparkle with joy and her bright grin as she was surrounded by all her friends. If only he could be a source of that happiness too... But he was darkness while she was a bright sun that filled each and every day with light and was way too out of his reach, no matter how far he tried.

Blinking out of his melancholy thoughts, Branch made a quick note on his phone to write that line down in his poetry later.

Meanwhile Poppy was laughing as she and Suki spun around holding hands before Guy came in and grabbed the DJ. It was so nice of Bridget and Gristle to invite them all out like this, she hadn't realized how much she missed roller skating. Letting Suki skate alone with Guy for a moment, she started a lazy loop around the perimeter of the rink as she took in all her friends having fun. Except of Branch, who was slouched in the booth looking bored. Rolling her eyes at her roommate she made to skate over to him to try and get him to join them when she noticed Creek coming back, sans roller blades.

Rolling over and grabbed the edge, Poppy flashed him a smile, “Hey. Where are your skates? Not tired already I hope.”

Creek smiled apologetically, “Not exactly. A coworker just called and asked if I could take their shift. Seems they caught a bit of a cold.”

“Oh...” Poppy's shoulders dropped, she had been looking forward to spending more time with him.

“Fret not, Sweet.” The guru cupped her chin, “We'll have time together again.”

“I know..” She gave him a sad sort of smile, “It's just you've been working a lot lately.”

Creek smiled at her, “Yes, but it's a good thing. I'll be able to afford a new apartment in no time. And then you,” He booped her nose, “Get to plan my house warming party.”

Poppy giggled, “Okay. Have fun~”

“I always do.” He bowed with his hands folded, “Namaste.”

Poppy watched him go with a smile before turning her sight back to Branch. Time to get back to her plan of try getting him on the rink. Exiting the rink, she rolled over to their table with a grin.

“Hey, Braaanch~!” She sang, “Come skate with us.”

“No.” Was his deadpan response.

She pouted before pulling out a childhood trick, “Please? For me?”

Branch glared at her, “Nice try. That doesn't work anymore.” A lie, actually. It could still work but he be damned if he let it. “So why did Creek leave?” Not that he really cared, he was glad the creep was gone but Poppy had looked sad about his departure and that didn't sit right with him.

“Oh...He had to go to work but hey! It's alright! It happens.” She shrugged before drumming her hands on the table, “Now stop just sitting here and come join us!”

“No.” He crossed his arms, “I'm not skating. Plus someone has to keep an eye on your things. You never know when a pickpocket could come by.”

“Branch. We're the only ones here besides the employees.”

“Yeah and that server looked shifty.”

Poppy threw her head back and groaned, “Branch, it'll be fine. Come ooooon.”

Before Branch could respond a different music track began to play. One that had Poppy turning around and grinning at Suki, who had gotten into the music booth, “Oh my gosh! Yes!”

Guy held out a hand dramatically. “Come my little Pork Cutlet Bowl! Let us dazzle everyone!”

Poppy laughed and forgetting her mission, skated back to the rink as she began to sing, “Can you hear...my heat beat. I'm tired of feeling I'm...never enough. I close my eyes and tell myself that my dreams will come true.”

“There'll be no more darkness when you believe,” Guy took a turn, grabbing her hand and pulling her across the floor, “In yourself, you're unstoppable. Where you're destiny lies, dancing on your blades, you set my heart on fire~!”

“Don't stop us now!” They sang together as Suki joined in, “The moment of truth. We were born to make history! We'll make it happen, we'll turned it around. Yes, we were born to make history!”

Branch watched for a moment as the three continued to perform, the rest of their friends cheering them on, before shaking his head. He buried his face in his arms and wondered just why he put up with these people, no crush on the most gorgeous girl was worth all this.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Branch and Poppy arrived back at their apartment in the early evening, Poppy parking in front of their building. The rest of their trip had involved Biggie and Gristle taking turns at the claw machine and everyone, except Branch, chowing down on some the greasiest pizza Branch had ever seen. He was glad to be back because that had been a waste of an entire afternoon he could've been studying or better yet, preparing dinner. It was the thought about dinner that suddenly had Branch groaning.

“What is it?” Poppy asked, “Did you forget something at the rink?”

“No.” Branch huffed, “There's nothing prepared for dinner because someone dragged me out when I could've been marinating the pork chops from the freezer.”

Poppy looked playfully offended, “Well excuse me for trying to help you relax a little. And to not hurt Bridget's feelings.”

“Bridget would've understood.”

Poppy let out a exasperated breath and rolled her eyes, here he went, being stubborn again. Shifting in her seat to better face Branch, she flashed him a smile, “Then how about this! You go to the store and pick something up for dinner and I'll go finish up that laundry I...sort of forgot about...”

Branch sighed and held out his hand for her keys, “Fine...”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Branch came home an hour later with a bag of taco supplies and a new reason to be irritated at the little market store close to their apartment. Their selection of tomatoes and onions had been horrible, so he'd had to waste more time running to the larger grocery store. At least the ground beef wouldn't take too long to cook and dinner would done before too long. Opening the door and wincing at the pop music blaring throughout their home, Branch turned into the kitchen to find Poppy dancing at the sink, washing dishes and-Was that one of his shirts?!

“...I-is that my shirt?!” He asked, cheeks turning red and hoping she didn't notice the way his voice cracked because he just suddenly couldn't handle her. She looked too damn adorable in his faded green shirt with the pine tree decal because it was a few sizes too big for her, one of her shoulders on display because the neck hem dipped to one side and it was just long enough to allow her shorts to peek out from under it. Branch couldn't help but wish that was all she was wearing before instantly berating himself for that thought. Poppy wearing his clothes was not a good thing!

“Oh!” Poppy jumped in surprise at his voice before looking a little embarrassed as she dried off her hands, “Um...maybe?” Branch raised an eyebrow at her and gave a look that said she should explain. “Look! I'm sorry, okay?! But I was doing the laundry and needed a spare shirt because reasons,” She had spilt detergent over the shirt she had been wearing and Branch's had been convenient to wear back up to the apartment, “And it's really comfortable so I sort of wanna keep it!”

“You-I-That-No!” Branch stumbled, dumping the groceries on the counter as he flailed his hands around, “You can't just steal someone's shirt!!”

“Yes I can!”

Branch really wasn't sure why but rather than try to argue with Poppy, he instead lunged at her with a growl. Poppy squealed and ran off, leading to him chasing her around the apartment. She ran to the couch hoping to put it between them but he followed her around it. She leapt over a bean bag before having to dodge another lunge. Branch in turn chased her in circles around the armchair before she attempted to keep it between them. They bobbed to and fro before Poppy tore off again down the hall, Branch hot on her heels. He caught her around the waist before she could run into her room.

“Give it back!” He shouted, tickling her like he had always done when this happened as kids.

“Never!” She laughed, squirming out of his hold and running back toward the living room.

Growling, Branch pursued and they made another round between and past their furniture. Poppy tried to go back though the kitchen, making another attempt to get to her bedroom but Branch cut her off. Chasing her back toward the couch, Branch attempted to grab her but she suddenly turned and he had to catch himself on the back of the chair before falling. Poppy giggled at him but was soon attempting to dodge him again as he lunged for her. However when Branch's arms found their way around her waist, the two found themselves falling into the other beanbag.

Branch lifted himself up, intending to scowl at Poppy and berate her for again for stealing things that weren't hers but stopped when he noticed how close he was to her. He'd fallen on top of her, legs tangled together and her face was right there. If he was braver, if he wasn't certain that it ruin everything and she'd hate him, truly actually hate him, he would just lean down and kiss her. He'd kiss her and tell her how much she meant to him and all the poetry he'd written about her but...But he wasn't going to. He was never going to do that.

Poppy giggled as Branch leaned up, he hadn't chased her in years and she had forgotten how fun it was. Looking up with a smile, Poppy made to say something teasing when she noticed Branch just looking at her. Tilting her head to the side, she waited for him to speak as she unconsciously raised her hands to his chest and wondered if his eyes had always been that blue. Wondering if maybe she should say something, Poppy didn't get the chance as Branch suddenly pushed himself off her.

“Right! I was gonna cook!” He cried, voice an octave higher as he hurried over to the kitchenette.

“Okay...” Poppy blinked, wondering what that was about before toying with the hem of his shirt, “I-I won't actually keep the shirt, Branch. I was mostly messing with you.”

He didn't respond for a moment, just went about gathering up a pan, before barely glancing back at her, “It's fine. I don't care.”

“But-”

“Poppy.” He said, voice containing a hint of a bite to it, “It's fine.”

“...Okay.” She got up and headed toward the door before slipping a pair of sandals on, “I'm just...gonna get the rest of my laundry. Be right back.”

“Sure.” Branch grunted.

As the door closed, he hung his head and slumped against the sink. Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why'd he say that is was fine when it most certainly wasn't?! Why did he have to be such an ass that he upset her enough to run away?! Why couldn't he just be a normal human being?!

Sighing, because Branch really didn't want to contemplate the answer to that, he stood and started cooking. Maybe the menial task would help distract him enough from his thoughts, at least until he could lock himself in his room. And as he listlessly started to push ground beef around the pan, a small part of him hoped Poppy would be willing to forgive him. He really hadn't meant to upset her. Branch sighed again and hung his head, he really was the worst.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Oh Branch, I don't think Poppy would have minded if you had kissed her. Confused for a little while but not minded XP But then we wouldn't get to the rest of my plans for this story if you had XD

Hope you all enjoyed and look forward to the next one! It's a bit I've been excited to get to!

History Maker-Yuri on Ice

#Dreamworks Trolls #Branch #Poppy #Broppy #Fanfiction #Human AU #Modern AU #Roommate AU #dreamworkstrolls #Gristle #Bridget #Snack Pack

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flowerfan2 · 6 years ago

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Bound To Be Together - Ch. 8

McDanno, M, A03

A continuous story of Season 9 codas exploring the bond between Steve and Danny as they grow even closer.

Chapter 8: 9.08

Steve parks his truck and twists around for his bag of gear. He’s a little early for the team’s annual Thanksgiving football game, but it’s a beautiful morning and he wants to enjoy it. The game’s an important tradition, and he knows Danny will grill him on every detail when he gets back from New Jersey.

Just then his phone pings with a text. Speak of the devil.

Thanks for the playlist.

Steve had swiped Danny’s phone a few days ago, adding a playlist with an assortment of songs from local Oahu bands. He figured Danny would enjoy it, something to distract him on the long flight. Maybe he’ll even want to go see one of the groups perform live, and Steve will casually offer to take him.

Like a date, maybe, kinda.

Steve shakes his head at himself and writes back.

No problem. How was the flight?

Boring. You getting ready for the game?

Already here.

Overachiever.

Steve snorts. At least I didn’t abandon my team. He regrets it as soon as he hits send, the stark words on the screen looking harsher than he intended.

Boo hoo. You’re just worried that the kids are going to trounce you.

Danny is apparently in too good a mood to get upset about Steve’s slip. The last thing Steve wants is to make Danny feel bad about going away to spend time with his family. Family has to come first, and Steve knows how much it means to Danny to be with his parents and siblings today.

Steve recovers and lobs a shot over the bow. You must be into the holiday booze already if you think Tani and those lugs are going to win.

Ha. You’re right. Bridget gave us some kind of cranberry champagne thing this morning, think there was vodka in it too. She’s making pumpkin pie martinis with dinner.

You didn’t eat yet?

Not turkey. But Charlie and I made cookies this morning.

Any left?

A few.

Don’t eat too much, you’ll spoil your appetite.

Ma says I’m too skinny anyway.

Steve thinks of Danny stretching as he got out of the truck at the airport, looking delicious in his slim fitting jeans and black t-shirt.

You’re perfect, Steve types back quickly. There’s a pause, and Steve wishes he had just turned this into a phone conversation. He wants to hear Danny’s voice.

Thanks. Danny doesn’t elaborate or hedge, and for some reason it makes Steve’s heart leap.

He jumps as there’s a knock on his window, Tani frowning at him and Junior standing behind her trying to stifle a grin.

Gotta go play some ball. Talk later?

You bet.

******

Steve doesn’t linger long after Thanksgiving dinner. The restaurant isn’t his responsibility now, and he’s thankful for that -- he doesn’t need to stay to make sure everything’s clean and locked up. If there’s a break-in, it won’t be Steve’s fault this time.

Steve knows his newfound freedom from being a restaurant owner isn’t the only reason he’s anxious to leave. He pushes that thought aside as he says good night to Lou and his family, who have somehow managed to act out the script of a bad sitcom episode over the course of the day. At least no one got hurt, he thinks. That’s another thing to be grateful for.

When Steve gets home he changes out of his clothes into a soft pair of sweatpants and paces around for a few minutes before giving in and calling Danny.

“Steve? Hey,” Danny says, his voice scratchy. “Give me a sec, hold on.”

“I know it’s late, I shouldn’t have called, but…”

“Nah, it’s not so late.”

It’s almost 3 a.m. on the east coast. Steve would like to think that the fact that Danny isn’t complaining about that means that he doesn’t mind, but it’s also possible Danny is too asleep to realize what time it is.

“Did I wake you?”

“Yeah, I guess. But it’s okay. I like the sound of your voice.”

Danny’s words stop Steve in his tracks as warmth spreads through his chest. It’s such a similar sentiment to what Steve himself has been thinking all day, missing Danny’s shouts of glee on the football field, his mumblings when they mull over a case. The sound of his voice at a table crowded with friends, carrying to Steve’s ears regardless of who he’s talking to.

“Well, uh, here I am.”

Danny laughs, low and rumbling. “How was your Thanksgiving?”

Lonely, Steve wants to say, but that’s not really true. He had good people around, his team, their families. He wasn’t really lonely. But there was an empty space where Danny should have been, where he should always be.

Might as well say it. “Missed you. Especially since we were at the restaurant. It looked good, though, you’d have been pleased. Kamekona had it all decorated.”

“Did he make that stuffing we talked about? With the sausage?”

“He did, and you were right, it was amazing.”

“Of course it was amazing, it’s my mom’s recipe. We had it too, although my sister made it yesterday and reheated it today, and it got a little dry.”

“Did she use a low heat? That’s supposed to help.”

Danny starts to answer, and then laughs again. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. It’s not our problem anymore. We are no longer responsible for conjuring up ways to serve food to the masses.”

“It’s true. I signed the papers tonight.”

There’s a long beat. “It’s good timing, really,” Danny says. “I don’t want to spend another minute thinking about food. I don’t want to debate whether the cranberry sauce in the can is evil, or whether marshmallows are more acceptable in sweet potatoes if they’re organic. I’m done. In fact, next year I’m making stuffing from a box.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Steve says, grinning.

“I will. Watch me. And we’ll get gravy in a jar, and buy a pumpkin pie from the bakery section of Foodland.”

Steve doesn’t miss the “we” dropped casually into Danny’s assertion. “What’ll we do for the turkey?”

“Pre-order from Kamekona.”

“It’s a deal, Danny,” Steve says, his voice falling low. “Next year we’re having a casual Thanksgiving. On the lanai, with paper plates and bottles of beer.” Steve holds his breath, expecting Danny to backtrack once he realizes that he and Steve can’t have Thanksgiving together, not if Danny’s in New Jersey for the holiday like usual.

But Danny doesn’t backtrack. Quite the opposite.

“If you’re in, I’m in,” Danny says. There’s something in his voice that makes Steve suspect Danny is talking about more than just where to spend the holidays.

“I’m in, Danno,” Steve says, proud of himself for keeping his voice steady. “One hundred percent.”

“Good, then,” Danny replies. “Good.” Steve hears blankets rustling, figures Danny’s turning over in bed. But he’s not at all prepared for what he hears next.

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you, uh, want to mess around?”

Steve blinks hard, feeling almost lightheaded, and leans against the arm of the couch. His mind is spinning, but there’s really only one answer to that question.

“Yeah?”

Danny hums, amused, but it just goes straight to Steve’s dick. He’s half hard already, and they haven’t even gotten started.

“You in bed?”

Steve turns to the stairs and goes up them two at a time. “Almost.” He flops down on his back, hand reaching for his waistband. “You sure this is okay? You’re not bunking with Grace and Charlie?”

Danny stifles a groan. “Do you think I would do this with my kids in the room? How are you thinking about them right now? What are you, some kind of monster?”

“Sorry, sorry.” Steve takes a deep breath, hand shaking as he puts the phone down and sets it on speaker. “I’m in bed. I’ve got my sweats on-”

“The dark gray ones with the pocket on the ass?”

“You been looking at my ass, Danny? Yes, those.”

“’Course I’ve been looking at your ass, prima donna, what do you think,” Danny mumbles. “Take the pants off, boxers too.”

“All right, all right. What are you-”

“Nothing.”

Steve’s breath whooshes out of him, although his next thought is “Aren’t you cold?”

“Steve, focus. No, I am not cold. I’m under a very thick, heavy comforter, keeping toasty warm while I waited for your call.”

The thought of Danny lying naked in bed, waiting for Steve, while Steve went through the motions of finishing dinner and driving home is ridiculously arousing. “Holy shit, Danny.”

“You touching yourself yet?” Danny boldly asks.

Steve isn’t -- in fact his hands are fluttering around his body like confused butterflies. “Should I?”

There’s that amused hum again, and Steve is struck by a longing to touch Danny so strong it would knock him over if he wasn’t already lying down.

“Take pity on a guy, Danno, we haven’t exactly done this before,” Steve says.

“Okay, okay, you’re right, I’m sorry. This is what we’re gonna do – you ready?”

“Yeah.”

“You in bed, clothes off?”

“Yes.”

“You thinking about me?” Danny’s voice drops half an octave, and Steve shivers.

“Yes.”

“You imagining me next to you, kissing you? Kissing your neck, your collarbone?”

“Yeah, that’s good, Danny.”

“Using a little teeth - you like that, right?”

“Fuck, you know I do.”

“Okay, Steve, touch your chest now. Just lightly. I’m doing it too. Run your fingers over your skin.”

“Okay.” Steve rubs at his nipples, pulls on them a little. Danny did that to him, over his shirt, the last time they were together, and it works almost as well this time.

“How you doing?”

“Good, Danny, real good.” Steve imagines it’s Danny’s hands on his chest, imagines sliding his hand down to Danny’s hip, stroking his hands over the curve of his ass. Giving it a squeeze and making Danny squirm against him.

“All right, let one hand drift down now. Touch your cock.”

Steve hears Danny suck in a breath and he knows Danny’s doing it too. “Wish it was my hand on you.” He imagines how it would feel to take Danny’s cock in his hand, hard and hot.

“Wish I was there too,” Danny replies, and he’s definitely breathing faster now. “Wish I could see you, fuck.”

“Danny, I… I’m not gonna last long…”

“Just a little more,” Danny rasps. “Steve…”

Steve’s on the edge, picturing Danny there too, muscles tight and aching for release. “Wanna put my mouth on you, Danny, feel you come down my throat-”

That’s apparently enough to do it for Danny, as Steve hears a grunt and stifled moan, just before his own orgasm takes him over, his hips bucking as he thrusts into his hand. When Steve recovers enough for lucid thought, he’s a little surprised at the words that Danny coaxed out of him.

“Danny… wow…”

“Fuck, Steve, that was…”

“Yeah.” Steve shifts and reaches for a tissue, wipes his belly. “Hope your house doesn’t have thin walls.”

“I think Bridget’s drinks knocked everyone out. And Grace and Charlie are actually at my sister’s with their cousins, so we’re good.”

“You couldn’t have told me that earlier?”

“I was otherwise occupied, Steven.”

Steve grins. “Okay, I’ll accept that.”

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“You’ll pick me and the kids up at the airport when we get home, right?”

“’Course I will, Danny.”

“Okay. Good.” There’s a pause, and that blanket shuffling sound, and when Danny speaks again his voice is muffled by his pillow.

“Happy Thanksgiving, Steve.”

Steve wishes Danny the same, and hangs up the phone. Danny Williams is a sap, and a pain in ass. And also a hell of a lot of fun to have phone sex with. Steve lets himself drift off to sleep, the echo of Danny’s voice in his ears, back where it should be. It’s a happy Thanksgiving indeed.

#mcdanno #H50 #9x08 #episode coda #steve mcgarrett #danny williams #my fic

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tnystrk-exe · 6 years ago

Text

Changes

Tony Stark X Child OC

Warnings: Abuse, alcohol, transphobia, dysphoria, puberty

From a young age, Hailee never felt right. There wasn’t much too it, she felt like a square that was being jammed into a circle shaped hole. Girls didn’t like her because she was too much of a tomboy. Mom was always mean and dad worked a lot. Finding a place to fit in was hard. At times it felt like she was just molded wrong.

Then puberty happened and it all went down hill. Her body was changing and she hated it. Nothing felt right at all.

“Mom?” She asked, hesitantly.

Her mom poured another drink for the night. If Tony was away, so was that trophy wife mask. “What do you want?” She grunted.

“I don’t feel right...”

“Sick? Go to bed. Don’t want to deal with you.”

Hailee sniffed, “O-okay. I’m sorry mom.”

Her mother shook her head in disgust, “Such a spoiled fucking brat. Always crying.” Sighing, Hailee walked up to her room, wishing her father didn’t have so many business meetings and missions to go on. She was nicer when he was home.

Sitting on the bed, she felt a bit hopeless. There never seemed to be any answers. Hailee knew she didn’t hate herself personality wise, but looking into a mirror or just staring at her body made her feel all types of wrong. The things her mother forced her to wear at events made her want to vomit. More often than not she longed to have a suit like her father’s. School uniforms weren’t any better. Skirts, bows, and frilly things, none of it good. Maybe she was just being dumb and picky, but that never felt like the right answer.

Getting up, she walked to the bathroom across the hallway. “Jar?” She asked, giving herself a revolted look in the mirror, “Why do I hate myself?”

“You don’t hate yourself, Miss,” the A.I. answered.

“I’m never comfortable. My clothes, my hair, and now my body is doing all this weird stuff. None of it feels right. I don’t feel right,” the young girl said, looking at herself in the mirror. “I don’t know what to do..”

“Would you like me to contact your father?”

“No. No. Dad’s busy. Keeping others safe is more important. Can you help me?”

“What’s wrong?”

Hailee tried to gather her thoughts, make sense of what she was feeling. “I dunno...I guess it feels like I’m stuck? I don’t like being a girl, I think.”

The A.I. pulled up internet pages on to the mirror, things that seemed to fit what she was describing. “Does any of this help?”

“I...I think so...” Hailee read through the articles, seemingly finding the answers, “Thank you.”

That was what the big deal was? Why this body felt like a giant trap? He was a boy?

“I’m a boy,” he tried out, a small smile pushing at his lips. Staring at himself was slightly easier now. Now that there were answers.

He sighed a breath of relief, looking around the room. His eyes landed on a pair of scissors on the counter, before falling back to his long hair. This was probably a bad idea. Scissors in hand, he pulled on a strand experimentally.

Snip.

It didn’t take much longer until more clumps of hair joined the first strand in the sink. He looked at himself proudly. This was better. It felt right.

The door was pushed open suddenly. “I told you to go to fucking bed,” his mother took in his appearance, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” She yelled.

He stepped back, trying to avoid his advancing mother. “I-I just wa-wanted to look like a b-boy,” he confessed, pressed against the wall.

“You stupid bitch, you don’t even know you’re a girl,” she slurred, slapped him hard across the mouth.

Tears welled up in his eyes, he looked down at the floor. “I’m sorry.”

“You will be.”

When she finally left him alone, he quickly ran to his room. Making sure to lock the door before falling into bed. He hurt all over. “I just want my dad,” he whimpered into the pillow.

He cried himself to sleep.

“Baby?” The loud knock at his door, woke him up suddenly. “C’mon honey, I need you to open the door,” his dad called out worriedly.

He stood up, a quick glance at the clock told him it was 2 in the morning. Hesitantly, he opened the door for his father. Immediately, Tony kneeled down to get a closer look.

“I’m so sorry, Hailee.” Tony was taken back to his rougher times with Howard. Bridget wasn’t like that. Though now he supposed it was all an act he had fallen for. “Let’s get you cleaned up princess.” He picked up his daughter and was going to take her into the bathroom across until he saw the chaos inside. Instead he opted to go to the kitchen, there was a first aid kit there. Tony sat him on the kitchen counter and looked through the cabinets to find the kit.

He watched his dad look for what he needed. This wasn’t worth the hurt or the worry that it caused his dad. Looking over he saw a crumpled up piece of paper. Straightening the page out he read its contents.

‘I can’t do this anymore. Fuck you. Fuck the money. Have fun with your daughter that wants to act like she has a dick. -Bridget’

“Hey,” Tony pulled the paper out of Hailee’s hands and let it fall into the trash can, “That doesn’t matter. Okay? I handled everything. I’ll protect you better now. This is going to sting a bit, but it will help.” Tony cleaned off cuts on her cheek and scrapes on her arms. Every time Hailee winced he felt like a failure. She should have never been through this.

“I’m sorry you had to come home, dad. I know you were doing stuff with the Avengers.”

“That doesn’t matter. Okay? They got it all handled. You needed me and there’s no reason to be sorry. None of this was your fault.” He took in the sight of his kid, there would no doubt be bruises coming in, but for now there was the botched cut job to fix. “Come on, I have some scissors and clippers. I’ll fix it up for you.” He helped his daughter down from the counter and took her to his bathroom. “How about I take you on a vacation?”

“What about school?”

“Really, school?” Tony rolled his eyes, “if you want, I’ll drop by at the school and pick up your work and we can take it.”

The sound of the clippers buzzed in the air, while Hailee made his choice. “Okay, sure.”

“You nerd.” Hailee laughed, much to Tony’s joy.

“Says you!”

“Hails, do you got anything you need to tell me? Has anything like this happened before?”

Hailee shook his head, “No. When you leave mom was mean. She always drinks.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, finally putting the clippers to the side.

“Because...I don’t know. Scared?”

He sighed, “At least we can put this behind us. How do you like this haircut? Better than what she gave you?” Tony hadn’t connected the dots. The worry about his kid blinded him more than anything. All he really knew was that it bugged Bridget to extreme levels that their daughter was a tomboy. He had assumed that’s what she had been getting at in her note.

“Yeah, dad. Thank you. Can I go back to sleep now?”

“You wanna sleep in here?” He offered, not really willing to let her out of his sight.

Hailee shook his head, “I want to sleep in my room. G’night dad.”

“Night sweetheart.”

Hailee quickly made his way down the stairs and grabbed his mother’s note out the trash. “Jarvis? Delete everything you showed me in the bathroom. Please, don’t tell dad.” It was too much stress on his father. His dad had enough to worry him as it was. At least Hailee had the answers he wanted. He could try to pretend to be a girl for a while.

“Sir, I think it would be wise to talk to your father.”

Hailee shrugged, “I don’t want to tell him. It just caused trouble today. Calling me that is nice, but not when adults are around please.”

“Is there another name you would like me to call you?” The A.I. asked as it learned more from the internet.

“I can do that?” He asked walking up to his room, the crumpled up note in hand.

“You could.”

He sighed, placing the note in a drawer. “I’ll think about something then, but only when it’s just us. Got it? If anyone is around, default mode.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Thanks, Jar.”

“Anytime.”

Everything Tag:

Marvel Tag:

Tony Stark Tag:

| @bit-bot0711 | @tonystarkxreader | @mikariell95 |

#tony stark #marvel #tony stark x oc #original character #tony stark x original character #mcu fanfic #mcu imagine #marvel fanfic #marvel imagine #dad tony stark

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argylemnwrites · 4 years ago

Text

Fight or Flight - Chapter 11: Weighing

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Heir (canon divergent from the end of book 2)

Word Count: ~3300

Rating: PG-13 (language only)

Summary: Six days since The Walker Absconding

Author’s Note: This series follows the Walkers, their friends, and Cordonia as a whole after they flee the country with their daughter during Barthelemy Beaumont’s attempted coup. To catch up on this series, check out it’s masterlist. (link can be found via my bio - sorry, Tumblr is once again not putting my posts with links in tag searches)

Rashad sighed heavily as he sat in a chair that was much too big behind a desk that was much too formal in an office that was much too stuffy. He’d agreed to be king-regent because he knew Liam was backed into a corner, and that his previous turns as legal counsel to both the palace and the Beaumonts made him the only obviously neutral party in the nobility. But not even one week in, and he found himself wishing he’d refused the appointment. He missed his job, his duties, his office, and that didn’t even touch on the mess he’d been handed.

It’s not like he wasn’t used to complicated and stressful work. But at Sloan Enterprises, it was work he was passionate about, work that he found stimulating and enthralling. Now, he was engulfed in so many decisions ranging from the banal to the insane. It was work he honestly wanted no part of, but that hadn’t exactly been an option.

His goal had simply been to get through the social season and reach the Conclave without rocking the boat, so to speak. Keep Cordonia on a steady course until someone who wanted the title of monarch could assume it, then return to his life as quickly as possible. But that had rapidly proved to be an impossibility. He’d already had to initiate a treason and kidnapping investigation, strip a duke and duchess of their titles, and postpone the social season. He’d done more in a few days than he’d hoped to do during his entire “reign.”

Now, he was facing numerous protests across the country that he had no idea how to handle. He wasn’t some verbose, eloquent speaker. Any speech from him was unlikely to quell citizen unrest. But in the past 36 hours, he’d watched news coverage of five different protests from five different groups. There was the group that called themselves the True Cordonians, a collection of traditionalists who had always opposed Drake and Riley and their connections to the United States, who were upset that the “traitorous” Walkers hadn’t been found yet. Counter-protesters to them had popped up in front of the Valtoria estate, denouncing the kidnapping and treason charges. That group hadn’t named themselves, but “She’s their kid” had become their rallying cry. Then there were the protests in Lythikos that called for Olivia’s installation as the “rightful regent” as well as a pro-Beaumont group that had come out in support of Barthelemy in Ramsford following his exclusive interview with Ana de Luca. And of course, the Liberation Core was using all the turmoil to spread their anti-monarchy message. Even if Rashad had been confident in his abilities to give a national address, he was completely unsure how to find a message that would even partially unify all those opposing groups.

All he wanted to do was to leave as little of a mark as possible as a ruler and to hand off the crown with Cordonia in a stable position. But it was rapidly seeming like those goals were mutually exclusive. And as loathe as he was to make big decisions, hiding away in the palace and letting the country fall to pieces was not something he could do. He needed to steady the ship, so to speak. And that’s why he was meeting with Lady Hana today.

Almost on cue, he heard a sharp tap on the main office door. After a second, Stefan entered, bowing his head slightly. Liam had offered to let his personal assistant stay on and help him with day to day tasks and the basics and essentials of the role. Rashad wasn’t naive enough to think that Stafan wasn’t essentially spying on him and reporting back to Liam, but he’d needed all the help he could get, and Stefan had proved invaluable, preparing daily briefings and news summaries, so he’d kept the man on his staff.

“Your Regency, Lady Hana is here for her appointment.”

“Thank you, Stefan. Send her in, please.”

A few moments later, Lady Hana entered, bowing her head slightly.

“Good afternoon, Your Regency.”

“Same to you, Lady Hana. Please, have a seat.” He gestured to the chairs in front of the desk. He was well aware this was probably awkward for her as well. She had probably been in this same office not that long ago with Liam behind the desk.

“Thank you,” she said with a little nod, smoothing her skirt before she sat down.

“So, I figure we better get right down to business.”

“I’ve told Bastien and the investigators everything I know, but I can-”

“No! Not that; I know you’ve already given your statement. I wanted to talk to you about Valtoria.”

Hana was still and silent for just a moment before nodding crisply. “Very well. I would appreciate if I could have a day or two to move my belongings out of the estate.”

Rashad grimaced. This was so uncomfortable. “No, you misunderstand me, Lady Hana. I wanted to discuss whether you were open to accepting the title of Duchess of Valtoria.”

Her eyes widened at that. “Me? As a duchess?”

“Yes. You’ve been living there for about a year and a half at this point, and I am guessing you have served as an advisor to Lady Ri- er, the previous duchess at various points.”

“Well, yes. But it was really nothing.”

“I seriously doubt that.”

She gave him a little smile at that. “Why are you looking to appoint me?”

Rashad figured he had better level with her. She wasn’t going to respond well to flattery she found insincere. “There is too much instability across the kingdom at the moment. Too much is unfolding, and the citizens are rightly unsettled. You are a known presence at that duchy, and you are more than qualified to hold the title. You stepping into that role would help reduce the sense that everything is changing. I might not be able to keep Lythikos and Ramsford calm and peaceful, but if I can give Valtoria some sense of stability, that would be a start at least.”

“I don’t know. This seems like a gigantic call for you to make while you’re…”

“A placeholder?”

“I didn’t know how to phrase it politely,” she said with a little smile.

“That’s quite alright. To answer your question, I’m not sure if this is the right call, but it seems like a natural place to start. You know the people of Valtoria. You’ve lived there and you’ve served them and the country as a whole well. You have the skills and talents required for the position, and professional recruitment is one area I actually do have some experience, so I am confident you would do well in that role. But the choice is yours, of course.”

He watched her swallow, trying to read her expression, but her face wasn’t giving much away. He had no idea what she was thinking, but after a few seconds of tense silence, she nodded. “Alright then. If it’s what the citizens of Valtoria need, I’d be honored to accept.

With that, she stretched her left hand across the desk, so Rashad grasped it firmly. As he pulled out some of the paperwork he’d prepared in hopes that she agreed and started going over some of the logistics, he hoped that his first major decision as regent would be one of his only major decisions. The fear of public scrutiny already loomed large in his mind, and this was a decision he was actually fairly confident in. Sadly, he was a realist, and he knew things were likely to get worse before they got better. All he could do, though, was keep trotting along, trying to get the country through the next couple of months relatively unscathed.

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

Riley let out a groan, dropping her head into her hands. “Drake, this fucking sucks.”

“Yeah, it does.”

She glanced out the window, almost feeling like she would see a drone with a little camera courtesy of Amalas just peering into their room. Was she using drones? Did she have spies tailing them? Was she just scanning publicly accessible photos tagged in Greek cities with facial ID software? Did it even matter? The end result was the same. Someone she wasn’t sure she could trust knew where her family was, and that was mad nerve-wracking.

Riley glanced back down at Drake, who was sitting on the floor with Bridget, keeping her from using the dresser to pull up to standing. She’d discovered how to do so this morning, and she kept wanting to repeat it, but the last thing they needed was for her to pull the dresser down on top of herself. It made Riley think about all the furniture around their private quarters that Drake had bolted to the wall in preparation for this milestone. None of that would matter anymore.

For the moment, Bridget was distracted with a pile of blocks she was putting into a pillowcase over and over. Riley knew she would return to trying to escape Drake’s reach to try out her new skill soon enough, but for now, at least, she was safely and happily playing.

Riley and Drake had been discussing what to do next for hours and hours at this point. They had called Olivia earlier, and after some back and forth, Drake and Olivia had both seemed confident that Amalas wasn’t actively following them and didn’t know their location beyond the city. After all, she had been eager to contact Olivia with her intel, and it seemed like too much of a coincidence for that call to come just a few hours after they had spent any real time out in public since their fleeing was common knowledge.

The best guess Drake had was that they had been in the background of someone’s Pictagram post or some shit like that, and that Amalas was just constantly running some sort of facial recognition program constantly on posts tagged with various cities in Greece. After all, she had to know they were trapped in Greece at this point. If they attempted to cross the borders, they would have to show their ID cards and they would likely be arrested on the spot.

Even if Amalas was just aware of their general location, it still was concerning that she was devoting that much effort to keeping tabs on them. But what actions they needed to take next were unclear to both of them. Hence them talking around in circles for hours and hours, just waiting for some idea that felt better than all the crappy ones they’d both thrown out there.

“I just don’t like sitting around with her knowing where we are, Drake. Even if she doesn’t know the exact details.”

Drake glanced up at her and gave a little shrug. This wasn’t the first time she’d expressed that sentiment. “I don’t like it either. But there’s no guarantee things will be better if we move on to a new city.”

“Olivia said that she’s trying to use us as leverage. How does that sit right with you?”

He shot her a clearly annoyed glare before looking back at Bridget, emptying the pillowcase for her to start filling with blocks again before he said, “It doesn’t fucking sit right with me. But we need to think long term here. We will need to find places to stay for at least a couple of months. That’s the earliest the Conclave can happen, and the charges won’t be dropped before then. We’re also going to need food and warmer clothing when it’s not the middle of summer, and that beater of a car is not going to hold up forever. We need to be frugal and cautious now.”

Riley knew he was right. Her instinct was always to scramble and react, often impulsively. If they kept following her lead every step of the way, they were probably going to make things harder than they needed to be. And she did appreciate that Drake was trying to put more thought into concrete plans. Both of them drifting along without a clear plan, complacent beyond belief was how Bridget was named heir and they found themselves in this situation in the first place.

“Are we even going to have enough money to get us through the next couple of months?”

Drake let out a sigh and shook his head.

“How long?” Riley asked, scrunching her eyes closed as she braced for the answer.

“Three weeks, more or less, if we keep our expenses like they have been.” She opened her eyes and locked them on his. His shoulders sagged and his eyes were sad and heavy, like he was somehow letting her down by telling her the honest facts.

“Drake… How are we going…” she trailed off, unable to finish her thought.

“I’m gonna need to pick up some odd jobs or something, find a way to make some money.”

“How are we going to do that without any ID we can show or anything. I mean, Amalas is out as a source of forgeries at this point, so unless-”

“Olivia told us she was going to poke around, see what she could do. Hana has our passports, so that’s a start at least.”

“I don’t know. I just… I hate this. Everything we have to do feels like it’s gonna get us caught.”

Drake ran his hand over the stubble on his jaw. He hadn’t shaved this morning, and in all the time she had known him, Riley could count the number of times he hadn’t shaved on one hand. She wondered if he was trying to grow a beard to make himself less recognizable or if he had just been too stressed and sleep deprived to bother today. She knew he wasn’t sleeping well.

“I don’t know how to fix this perfectly, Riley. I just don’t.” He looked so dejected, placing his chin on his bent knee, so Riley slid off the end of the bed and joined him and Bridget on the floor, threading her legs under his raised leg in hopes of conveying some degree of comfort.

“Well, we’re just going to have to make a decision and not look back here. And it looks like the two least bad options are to either stay hiding out here for as long as possible and hope that Amalas doesn’t go blabbing, or move on to a new city and hope she doesn’t find us there and that it isn’t too much of an expense to do so.”

He nodded, reaching for her hand. She grabbed on tightly, threading their fingers together. Maybe it was for the best they were both mad conflicted here. It allowed them to really decide on their next move as a team.

“I know I’ve been kind of reluctant to head to a new city, but one thing that is worth considering is that if we went to a bigger city, I might be able to find some under the table work. Day labor, that sort of thing. Plus…” he trailed off and shook his head a little at that, so Riley pushed on.

“What?”

“Well, we have a better chance of finding someone to do a forgery for us in a bigger city, too.”

“You think we should just find a random stranger to forge us passports with new identities?”

“We might have to. I hope Olivia can come through for us, but I’m not counting on that. She’s not going to risk her reputation and good standing to really put her neck out there for us. It’s one thing to keep our location a secret, it’s another to draw attention to herself by asking a lot of questions about how to fake a convincing Greek passport. So if she isn’t able to help us, we’re probably going to have to find someone to do it for us at some point.”

“I thought you said the bigger cities would be the first place they would try to track us.”

“Yeah, but it’s been a few days. They are probably broadening their search at this point. I feel like that risk isn’t as bad as it used to be.”

“So are you saying you think we should head out?”

He paused for a moment and swallowed roughly, running his free hand through his hair. “I don’t know. I think we could stay here for a little while longer and wait to see what Olivia can do for us about fabricated identification, or we could cut our losses and start trying to plan for that on our own. I don’t exactly like either option, Walker, but I think those two I could live with. Where are you at?”

She bit her lip, trying to figure out what was best. She wished there was a clear sign that one option was better than another, but there just wasn’t. They were going to be gambling here no matter what, and while she normally loved a good game of poker, the fact that the stakes here included the safety of her daughter and her family left her feeling sick to her stomach.

“I guess I don’t trust Amalas knowing even our general location.”

“Even though…,” Drake started, taking a deep breath and giving her hand a squeeze before he continued, “even though you thought she might be a good resource for us yesterday?”

Riley opened her mouth to snap back at him, frustrated that he seemed to be trying to trap her or accuse her or something, but she stopped when she saw the look in his eyes. He was afraid of her. She’d never seen that look directed at her before, not quite like that. Sure, she’d seen him upset and terrified, but she had never been the source of it before. So she swallowed down her instinct to lash out and defend herself and let out a little sigh. She’d put him through enough with this whole fugitive status already, and she didn’t want him to feel like he couldn’t be honest with her, couldn’t challenge her. They had always pushed each other, even before they were together. She couldn’t risk losing that now.

“The situation has changed,” she said, trying to keep any defensiveness out of her voice. “If she’s putting the effort into keeping tabs on our whereabouts, she has something up her sleeve, and I don’t trust her. It was one thing when I hoped we might be able to leverage some juicy info and future political favors, but now… I just don’t think we’re going to be willing to pay the price she wants.”

Drake nodded a couple of times before he said, “Okay, so we’re moving on then?”

“If you’re okay with that.”

“As long as we go to a bigger city, I’m okay with it.”

She gave him a little smile and reached up to cup his cheek with her free hand. “Got a place in mind?”

“If we’re gonna do this, we might as well commit. I say Athens, unless you-”

But she cut him off, shaking her head before leaning over to kiss his cheek. “Thank you, Drake.”

“You don’t need to thank me. I’m-” he started, but threw himself to the side and grabbed Bridget who was crawling over to the dresser, tugging her into his lap. “Oh no you don’t, Peanut.”

Riley felt her lips widening into a genuine smile, a feeling that almost felt foreign after the past several days. But her family was here, and they were all just doing the best they could. Even if it all fell apart, at least she could take comfort in that fact. So for now, she just took in her husband and her daughter sharing a normal moment, happy simply to be together.

Permatag: @walkerswhiskeygirl @riley--walker @bebepac @ravenpuff02 @oofchoices @octobereighth @drakewalker04 @kimmiedoo5 @mfackenthal @thequeenofcronuts

The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir: @iaminlovewithtrr @ao719 @mskaneko @katedrakeohd @jovialyouthmusic @marshmallowsandfire @axwalker @kingliam2019 @sirbeepsalot @texaskitten30 @princessleac1 @ladyangel70 @dcbbw @yaushie

Drake x MC: @no-one-u-know @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria @iplaydrake @gibbles82 @drakewalkerisreal @notoriouscs @drakesensworld @drake-colt-lover-99

Fight or Flight: @masterofbluff @burnsoslow @bobasheebaby @shz256

#drake walker #drake x mc #trr au #trh au #trr fanfic #trh fanfic #trr au fanfic #trh au fanfic #choices fanfiction

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escapist-experience · 7 years ago

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Claudia Toman - Hexendreimaldrei

I read Hexendreimaldrei, the first part of the Olivia Kenning trilogy from Austrian author Claudia Toman as part of my German reading challenge. The book was published by the Diana Verlag in 2009 and is only available in German. I have very mixed feelings about the book. It was a weird ride where moments of fun and intriguing details alternated with shock over the sexist generalisations, annoyance over poorly solved plot difficulties and eye rolling over the clumsily used plot device characters. The story doesn’t work for me because I could not emotionally connect with the Olivia, or understand her motivation for half of the things she does in this book. The narration gives you coincidence upon coincidence to solve the plot problems. The lack of foreshadowing removes the fun part from the detective/investigation quest: the guessing and dissecting the text if an offhand remark contains a clue. Spoilers after the text break. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- The things that I didn’t like (or annoyed me a lot): 1.The “this-all-was-just-a-dream” trope 2.The pop culture references that do not add value to the story. It already has a strong fairy tale and classic literary influence, heaping the pop culture references on top is an overkill and creates a cheapo gimmick-y effect. 3.The classic literary references work better, but I had the feeling they were just included randomly to fill the plot holes. It bothered me particularly in the last conflict scene with the main antagonist where Olivia defeats Lady Grey by citing from a Shakespeare play. 4.Explaining how a seemingly insurmountable problem can be easily solved by jumping back in time and explaining that a secondary character who is Olivia’s friend happens to be an expert in the field that is necessary to solve it. The readily available sodoku and literary expert friend? Randomly talking to the hotel receptionist who happens to be a Shakespeare specialist-slash-amateur-actor? Walking into the first esoteric shop and just telling a complete stranger something that a. sounds insane b. could get you in trouble with the organisation you are trying to infiltrate? Build these up first, often a few lines or comments in advance are enough. 5.The frequent jumps between the different timelines make the story difficult to follow. This is made even worse by the above-mentioned issue with jumping back in time to provide explanation that is needed in the present timeline. 6.The plot is based on the idea that a woman, on the wedding of the man she is love with makes a wish that surprisingly becomes true: the man is transformed into a frog. The fact that anyone in a such situation would wish exactly that is not plausible for me (Wish that he marries you instead? Wish that you are not in love with them?). I realise this is the “This is magic, silly!” moment where I should suspend my disbelief. I’m trying, I promise but it’s hard. 6. The protagonist is completely sure that the Pianist (or the Prince as the text often refers to him) is Mr Right for her based on the following three factors: • He has emerald green eyes • He composes and plays music that the heroine finds deeply touching • He is a foreigner and “frenchy” I find it alarming that Olivia becomes so quickly so obsessed with the Pianist because they barely speak a few words at all before she decides to marry him at the earliest possibility. I know this book is heavily influenced by different elements of the Princess and the Frog fairy tale but even so. At least give us a few scenes where we see them bonding. I can’t care about the relationship that is just built on a few sketch-like scenes from the Sex and the City and sweeping generalisations. It made me sad that Olivia went through so much pain to please the Pianist and it’s clear the aside from being physically attracted to him, she doesn’t have a good time in his company. She is constantly worried about her appearance. She even prepares topics and interesting things to tell him. This is not a romance book; Olivia and the Pianist prince don’t end up together. Yet, seducing and getting back (rescuing) him is the one and only motivation for Olivia in the entire story. 7.The ”Get a life already woman” syndrome. There is an entire chapter where Olivia doesn’t do anything else than waits for The Pianist to call. When does she work? Is there really nothing else in her life? There is a point where the narrator refers to being single as an “unfortunately fashionable thing lately”. Olivia is characterised as a stereotypical single woman who has a cat, a few female friends to order take out and sip prosecco with and who is desperate to find a partner. This is so sexist and limiting that I cannot even… Which brings me to the next two points. 8. The clumsy, whiny, self-deprecating to the point of self-abuse female lead is desperately (and irrevocably) in love with the mysterious and perfect male lead she spoke with twice when they exchanged like 10 words (Bella Swann syndrome). The clumsiness is used as device to advance the plot and get the male lead’s attention: Olivia falls over, knocks down, drops or loses things, gets drunk and is incapable to use simple tools and devices. The same incapable and helpless character doesn’t even break a sweat why infiltrating aa secret organisation of dangerous magicians. 9. Most characters are the caricatures of themselves: the coffeeshop owner, the hotel receptionist, Olivia’s both friends even the Pianist. They just embody a few generalisations (some of which are sexist and heteronormative) and any other characteristic that the plot needs. 10. Revealing one of the characters is a ghost by the ghost sending a letter to Olivia thus providing all the hints she needs to solve the last hurdle before the climax of the book. 11. Johnny Depp references. The book was published in 2009 so the author could not have known but it is still unpleasant. An additional reason why I’d leave out the contemporary references. They don’t tend to age well anyway. 12.Shakespeare statue / ghost. Each time it appeared it had different abilities: 1. triggered in the Leicester Park with the ring and by Olivia directly addressing him 2. telepathic communication between Olivia and the ghost (or ghost animated statue) 3. the statue just comes by on the Picadilly Circus to give a magic object to Olivia It irked me that it was just there to give you a Shakespeare quote and whatever else served the plot. 13.Every single time I thought the book cannot get any weirder it just did. To be honest this wasn’t always unpleasant. Like I said, I have very mixed feelings. There were a few golden (pun intended) moments and details that I liked (and a few I loved): 1.The idea of the Everycat and everything about the Everycat. 2.The boss-witch Hekate looks like Olivia’s older version. This is intriguing enough that I want to read the second part of the book just because of this (and the Everycat). 3.Hathor’s characterisation and unflappableness (totally a word, I looked it up). It would have been even more intriguing if she is not the Greatest Magician but some proxy of hers who will lead to her in, say, the next book? 4.I’d have liked to see Noel’s character in action. I mean magic action. I understand the authorial intent was to remove a mentor figure so Olivia could go her own way, but still. Now that he is outed as ghost I’m afraid we will never see him do anything exiting. And what did Shakespeare do to piss of the witches? 5.The Frog-prince-pianist was so whiny and mansplained and always assumed the worse. I’m not sure if that was the intent, but I found it hilarious. The frog-ness getting worse with time was also a good touch. 6.Witch rules: every witch must have a cat and witches cannot love. Both are interesting choices and have consequences in the worldbuilding that I’d like to know more about. How did Hathor get out of it? She used to be a witch but she is not a one anymore. How do you un-witch yourself? What if you are allergic to cats? 7.You can only find one golden ball in your life. It makes me wonder what will happen with the golden ball in the next books. It sounds like destiny or fate calling. How will Olivia end up being Hekate (is it her from the future?). 8.The reveal that Olivia is a witch (guessed it when she first looks into the mirror in Hathor’s shop) but it was still cool. I would have liked if her reaction to the news is explored more in detail, if the narrative shows if she thinks about it later. 9.The first scene is Olivia sitting on a toilet in a church. Quite an unusual choice and it was a good way of immediately setting the reader into the “head” of the character. All in all: I would recommend the book if you enjoyed the Bridget Jones books/ movies and the Da Vinci code. The narrative contains sexist elements and negative stereotypes of single women so if this is something that disturbs you, give it a pass. I will very likely read the remaining two books of the trilogy out of curiosity, but I would not re-read this book. Ideal present for: *That* aunt that always asks when you are going to get married.

#deutsch #fantasy #fairy tales #trilogy #witchcraft #the princess and the frog #bridget jones #literary references #Shakespeare #Goethe #Keats #Hexendreimaldrei #german #London #Wien

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blazerina · 7 years ago

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A Regular Tuesday

“A Regular Tuesday” - The Sophomore - Chris x MC & James x MC

Bridget stared through the oven window at the baked pasta that was almost ready. While she watched the cheese pulse and bubble over the edge of the glass dish it was cooking in, the smell settled over the kitchen like a cloud, and she began to imagine how delicious it would taste.

“This is going to be sooo good!” She clapped her hands in giddy excitement, as she declared the news aloud to an empty house. She and her friends had been living in Professor Vasquez’s old house for about 2 months now, and they were well into the middle of their fall semester. The kitchen was her favorite place to be. It made the house feel even more like home. This is where she could provide for those who meant the most to her. Baking and cooking brought life; not only through nourishment, but time together and and joy from one another’s company as people gathered to break bread at the table. Feeling confident and at peace, Bridget moved to the refrigerator and pulled out some vegetables, closing the door with her foot while humming a Taylor Swift song.

She had been preparing for this meal for a few hours now. The apron around her waist was proof of that. It was smeared with tomato sauce and chocolate, from the pasta as well as the chocolate pie she made that was cooling on the counter. This would be the first night in a few weeks that she and James would have together. Even though it was a Tuesday, she wanted to do something special for him. He had been majorly stressed lately as he tried to balance his work with the paper, upcoming graduation, finding a job and his general search for perfection in all things. Making dinner for him was the least she could do to take his mind off of those troubling situations for a while.

The timer on her cell phone rang out and she dropped the last of some bell peppers into a bowl of salad she was mixing together. As she pulled the pasta dish out of the oven, she heard the hinges on the front door screech as it swung open.

“You’re here early, my love!” She called, beaming as she turned around with potholders on her hands, holding out the pasta dish, clearly proud of her creation.

Her face fell when she realized it wasn’t who she was expecting.

“Oh, shoot. Bridge! I’m sorry – I didn’t know you were having a…a…thing…” Chris blushed slightly as he looked his roommate up and down.

Her hair was up (which was not the norm) and her diamond stud earrings sparkled in the candlelight that was reflecting from candles she lit on the kitchen table. She had pulled out all the stops this time. Chris knew that she loved to cook but hadn’t really experienced it much. He was so busy with Student Government or football, that he wasn’t around that much anymore. He made sure of it. Being around her was too difficult these days.

As he continued to take her in, he noticed the gleam in her eye as she nervously laughed, placing the hot dish back into the oven to keep it warm. Her simple black dress was strapless but casual at the same time. Small, white, lacy designs decorated the bottom of her dress and while her heels aided in her height, she was still small. He smirked at the pink and yellow apron around her waist and the many fresh stains that had been wiped upon it.

“Hey! It’s no problem at all.” She chuckled, taking the pot holders off of her hands and returning to her salad. “I assumed since it was just a regular ole Tuesday evening, everyone would be gone…” Bridget trailed off while she absentmindedly grabbed a peeler and began peeling carrots to add to the salad.

“Practice out early?” She asked, focusing on the small strips of orange that were landing in the sink.

Something had been different this year with Chris and she didn’t know what it was. They had been making an effort to spend more time together, as friends of course, but they had come to rely on one another in a new and different way.

Bridget knew that she loved James and that James loved her. They weren’t having problems, they were stronger and closer than ever…but in those moments when it was just Chris and Bridget, there was something developing and it made her nervous.

They had spent more time together over the summer and the past few months, one on one. Bridget was busy with her book and her own writing for the paper, but she still wasn’t as preoccupied with life as James was.

She wasn’t worried about her relationship with James. For the first time in a while, since the whole California debacle, they were in a good place. He trusted her, she trusted him and they really worked to make time for one another when it felt like things were getting too hectic. Tonight was supposed to be a prime example of that new-found intentionality that both of them were working to bring to their relationship.

Is it just me? She thought to herself. I can’t be the only one that feels like something has changed between us. The way he stares. He looks at me different…he’s looking at me right now, I can feel it. What’s happening - why am I struggling with this? Sometimes I’m sad when I don’t see him or hear from him for a while…be cool, Bridget. Don’t be awkward. This is Chris – one of your best friends!

Lately she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about move in day, when she and Chris met. Her mind always traveled back to the kiss they shared on the rooftop their very first night together at Hartfeld. After the kiss that night, she laid awake thinking about their future and all the opportunities that were waiting for her. She was sure that Chris was her one true love and they’d be college sweethearts, living out their 4 years at university together and riding off into the sunset at graduation to live their lives and start another adventure together. As things began to unravel with Becca, the sorority, writing for Vasquez and meeting James, Chris faded more and more into the background.

Bridget was lost in her thoughts again before a sharp pain interrupted them. “Ow!” She seethed, quickly dropping the carrot and the peeler into the sink with a loud clang.

“Shoot.” She muttered, clasping her hand. “I always do this.”

“You okay?” Chris dropped his gym bag by the door and walked quickly to her side. “What’d you do?”

“I’m fine, thanks, it’s stupid. The peeler missed the carrot and got my finger.” She smiled sheepishly. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

Her knuckle was bleeding, but she ran it under some water anyway. “So – how was practice?” She asked again, trying to find a way to fill the void or ease the tension or whatever it was that was happening lately between them.

“Eh, it was alright.” Chris shrugged, opening the refrigerator and scratching the back of his head, absentmindedly.

He didn’t know what he was looking for. He wasn’t hungry. He wasn’t thirsty. He felt like he was in a fog. It took every ounce of strength to take his eyes or his mind off of Bridget. And he didn’t want to.

Look at what I missed out on. He told himself. I don’t know how much longer I can do this…the more time we spend together, the more I realize how much I like her…but James. He’s my friend too! And she adores him…look at what she’s done for him…wish it was for me…it could have been for me…if I wasn’t so stupid…

“Just alright?” Bridget persisted, wrapping a paper towel around her injured finger.

Chris snapped out of his mental diatribe with the refrigerator door still open. Without looking away from the fridge he answered, “We ended early – it got really hot inside the practice facility and people were getting sick, so coach called it. No one drinks enough water.” He grabbed a beer from the fridge and cracked it open.

Bridget raised an eyebrow, looked down at the can and then back up at him, “Thank goodness you’re perfect, then.” She smirked, biting her bottom lip to stifle a laugh.

“Hey.” He raised the can as if to toast her, “I earned this today.” He took a long sip, let out a satisfied sigh and moved closer to her, as if he all of a sudden mustered up courage. He held his breath while reaching out for her arm.

Her back was to him as she used one hand to mix the contents of the salad bowl, when he gently grabbed her elbow, trying to force her to turn around. “Let me see your wound.”

Bridget closed her eyes and exhaled slowly, feeling his skin against hers. “It’s really nothing…” She said slowly, almost whispering as she turned to face him.

His eyes locked with hers as he took her hand in his. “Bridget, I’m in love with you.” Chris sighed, but kept his eyes focused on her face.

“I can’t believe I just said that out loud…” He glanced at the floor for a moment, scared, but determined.

“I have to tell you this now, or I’m never going to. Every day I find myself more and more attracted to you. The more I get to know you, the more I see of you, the closer we become…” He trailed off, still holding her hand, the damp paper towel around her finger, now unraveling a bit.

Bridget couldn’t help her eyes from growing wide. “Chris. I…we…” She stammered, inhaling sharply, not knowing what to say. The two of them were closer together now, facing each other.

“I’m so confused.” She confessed, breathlessly. “What…what’s going on between us?”

“Very good question, Bridget. That’s what I’d like to know.” James voice echoed in the quiet house as he stood in the entry to the kitchen, waiting for an answer.

—

Reblogging this because I want to know…What do you think? Should I do a “Part 2?” Lemme know!

#it's my birthday #this was a totally random story i wrote #that people actually liked #cant decide if i should continue with it #james x mc #chris x mc #the freshman #the sophomore #choices fanfiction #play choices #blazerina babbles

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theoddcatlady · 8 years ago

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The Devil’s Wives, Part Two

Part One

“So, according to her mother, you were alerted first to Bridget’s pregnancy?”

I had gone into the staff room for coffee and Principal Dudley cornered me in here with a blank face. Being ‘let go’ was looking quite likely at the moment. I was careful to keep my voice level. “Not in the office, I was off hours,” I responded. My only defense.

“Good. I’ll use that as your excuse not to get you in trouble.” Dudley poured himself a cup of the coffee before dumping enough sugar in the cup to turn it into a syrup. He took a sip and seemed content with the sugary mixture. “… Off the record, I would’ve done the same.”

I sighed with relief. “Thank you, sir.” He might’ve been a stickler for the rules, but at least Dudley wasn’t an ass like so many of the other bureaucrats that thought they knew how the education system for teenagers was supposed to work.

That was the end of that. I tried to do more Facebook stalking but Bridget’s posts had come to a sudden halt. Couldn’t figure out if the father had been located but I didn’t want to know. Perhaps the fact that Bridget didn’t remember a thing was for the best. Can’t find someone you didn’t know the face of was the impossible task. And what sort of dick head college boy would step up as the father?

It was a quiet month. The most shattering thing was a boy coming in with a ‘twisted’ ankle where I immediately sent him to a more complete doctor’s office as I knew a broken ankle when I saw it. He’d tripped during dodgeball and snap. Kid didn’t even know how bad it was.

Bridget’s and Alice’s pregnancies drifted to the back of my brain when gossip in the staff room caught my attention.

“So Jacklyn is pregnant.”

That sentence nearly made me drop my #1 Nurse Mug. Thankfully the gossipers, Miss Foster who was the art teacher and Ms. Kline who taught Biology for the freshman, didn’t seem to notice.

Ms. Kline leaned in a bit and started counting off on her fingers while she talked. “That makes… letsee, Alice, Brooke, Carmela, Kelsey...”

“Don’t forget Bridget, her parents pulled her out!” Miss Foster reminded.

Ms. Kline nodded. “Right, right. Think that’s it. So far. I haven’t seen this many knocked up teenage girls since I worked at Brickstone. And they had three times over the students we have right now.”

Miss Foster tutted her tongue and shook her head. “Like I told you! We need to push a new sex ed program, otherwise every girl in school is going to be shopping for maternity prom dresses!”

I left the room as discreetly as I could. I needed to use the restroom. And I didn’t want to hear the mindless gossip of the other teachers anymore.

However, when I got to the girl’s bathroom, I ran right from the pan to the fire.

“Oh! Nurse Bradley!”

Girls went to the bathroom together. It was a trained instinct, partially for protection and partially for socialization.

However, the entire cheerleading squad plus the mathematics club all in one bathroom? It wasn’t the most likely match up.

Georgia, the vice president of the Mathematics Club, pushed up her glasses and bounced from foot to foot nervously. “I, uh, this bathroom’s sorta… full right now.”

“I can see,” I replied. The two working stalls were occupied, the remaining one with an orange ‘out of order’ sign taped to the door.

Helena placed a hand on her hip, her flashy yellow and maroon cheerleading uniform looking garish under the harsh light of the bathroom. “Listen, we’re kinda in the middle of something in here, so if you could, like, ya know, go…”

Both bathroom doors opened at the same time.

Veronica, the captain of the cheerleading squad and Lori, the president of the mathematics club walked out.

Both had a pregnancy test.

And both were positive.

Lori was shaking her head, trapped in denial. “This can’t be happening. I use protection! I’m on the pill!” The tears started coming then.

Veronica ran to the sink and vomited. The girls split into two groups to surround the new ‘mothers’, typically separate cliques now intermingling as they comforted their fellow students. Veronica looked up at me before a deep breath and dragging a hand down her face. “Nurse Bradley we’d… like a few minutes. Please. I’ll come talk to you after we’re done here, I swear.”

Nodding, I left and used the bathroom down the hall.

Veronica came in after the next class, after I’d already given out the remainder of my pregnancy tests. Each girl insisted they couldn’t be pregnant but ‘wanted to be sure’. I didn’t hear back from any of them. I don’t know if I wanted to.

Without a word she dumped an armful of pregnancy tests on my table. “I think you’re going to need these,” She said.

Surprised, I picked up one of the boxes. “When did you get these?” I asked.

“I’m going home for the day, I already called my mom and dad. But I decided to give you a hand and help you restock your stores,” Veronica explained. She seemed calm. A little red eyed from crying, but calm.

I started placing them in the drawer. “Thanks. Really. I… don’t know what to say. What are you-”

“I’m gonna keep her.” Veronica crossed her arms over her belly, bringing back to mind Alice when she’d told me the same thing. “I want a family. I didn’t want one so soon, but if this is what fate throws my way, I can take it. I mean I wasn’t into cheerleading that much anyway.”

It was shocking how calm she was about this. But all I could respond with was, “What makes you think it’s a girl?”

Veronica blinked before she wrinkled her nose. “Huh, I didn’t even realize I said her. Oh well, I’ll trust my instinct. Sides,” She smiled and hugged her stomach. “A lil ‘V Two’ wouldn’t be so bad. I’d like your help though… can you help me find all the other girls who are keeping their babies? I wanna set up a support network.”

And that is what she did. It was needed. Within a week there were fifteen confirmed pregnancies in this school. Fifteen.

I’d worked at that school for seven years and in all my years I’d seen a maximum of three teenage pregnancies. Faulty birth control was a common suspect for this epidemic, tied in with poor education and just plain dumb luck. Something in the water, perhaps.

But I was honestly thankful as hell that there was a natural leader like Veronica.

Veronica was always a leader personality. Head cheerleader. Prom Queen material. Was in the debate club her sophomore year and was known for being outspoken but empowering. And with a bunch of half panicked girls wondering what the hell to do next? That was appreciated.

The girls all met in my living room for the first meeting. All different ages, backgrounds, and social statuses. Even Alice had shown up, and she was the farthest along. She’d switched out her boots with something more comfortable for swollen feet, but she and Veronica sat side by side.

I just provided tea and snacks as they talked about their situation and offered support for each other. I’d never seen so much female love and companionship in a single room. I enjoyed being a part of it.

The insanity didn’t go away though. It had only begun. Veronica hadn’t provided enough birth control tests. Hourly I’d have girls coming in. Even ones that weren’t sexually active. It was like a virus. If you had a functioning uterus there was a shot you’d be pregnant.

There even was a school assembly about it, with Principal Dudley advising students to be ‘safe’ and that the therapist and nurse (thanks, Dudley) were there for advice and comfort. Nothing changed. Girls would turn up pregnant, and Veronica would welcome them under her wing.

It got to the point where I started to get concerned. So many girls were now keeping their babies because that was what Veronica was doing. I ended up pulling Veronica aside.

“So… you are telling these girls if they intend on aborting, it needs to be done real soon?” I asked.

Veronica nodded. Hardly bothered. “Of course! Most of us are planning on working together though. Even if they aren’t sure how they’re pregnant, we have this whole plan about being a family group. We can stick together and no one has to get hurt.”

Oh boy. I sighed and shook my head. “Is… anyone going to give up their babies? Or have an abortion?”

“I’m not brainwashing them or anything, Miss Bradley.” Veronica frowned. “And yes, someone is aborting. Lori. She’s decided her education takes priority and after talking with her boyfriend they’re going in tomorrow. We’re all on her side, I even offered to drive.” She crossed her arms and I saw that brief challenge in her eyes. “Is it that bad to want to raise your own child?”

I was out of luck here. I shook my head. “It’s your choice, Veronica. I just want you to know it’s a serious one.”

Veronica opened her mouth to respond but the bell ringing cut her off, and with a muttered excuse she took off.

Being brushed off the way I was was honestly alarming. Babies weren’t new toys. But at this point it was going to be near impossible to convince Veronica otherwise.

It would have to wait though. I wanted to see Lori before she left.

Lori was at her car when I caught up.

“Hey, Lori! So… you’re going to the clinic tomorrow?” What a way to start the conversation.

Lori nodded, shutting the car door. “Yeah. In the morning. I won’t be at school for a bit, just a heads up, but I think it’s the best choice for me. I’m just worried about the school work I might miss out on.”

“I’m sure your friends will take notes.” I opened my arms. “Hug?”

“… Hug.”

I hugged Lori tightly before she got into her car and drove off.

The next day started off as normal. Sophomore boy came in with a headache. Principal Dudley came by and asked how my supplies were doing. I didn’t mention that my budget had been practically blown on pregnancy tests and I was now reaching into my paycheck.

It was around one thirty PM when the girls came in with another possibly pregnant girl when men in suits burst into my office.

I gasped and got to my feet. “Can I help you gentlemen?”

One of the men looked over Veronica, her small frame already starting to show. “Are you one of the pregnant girls?”

Veronica nodded. “Yeah, we all are.”

“You need to come with us.”

It’s needless to say I lost my shit when one of the men roughly grabbed her arm. “Excuse me! She is a student-”

“Ma’am, we’re going to need a list of all the pregnant students currently enrolled here.” The one in charge nudged up his thick rimmed glasses. “This is not a request.”

I balled up my fists before standing up straight. “I’m sorry, but I don’t keep track of every pregnant student. That information is between them and their doctors,” I responded. I might know most of them by name. But like hell I was going to tell a strange man this.

The man’s face went cold. He turned to one of the other suited men.

“Have the principal call every female student and young female staff into the gymnasium. Miss Bradley, you’re going to need to come with us. Cooperate or we’ll have you arrested for obstructing a government investigation.”

In a single file line, we were marched to the gymnasium. The bleachers were pulled out and girls started flooding in. Whispers filled the air and Veronica was biting her nails. “Miss Bradley, what is going on?” She whispered.

I had no response, all I could do was shrug and say, “I don’t know. I am going to find out though.” I started digging through my purse and my fingers had just closed around my phone when my purse was roughly snatched away from me.

The leader of the suited men glared icily at me. “Until we are done here you are not to make any phone calls or tell anyone what we are doing here. Principal Dudley promised your cooperation.”

Fucking coward was nowhere to be seen, of course.

I stared back at him. “And what exactly are we cooperating with, sir?”

“The wishes of the US government. Here.”

A pregnancy test was shoved into my hands.

“Go to the bathroom and take this test. There will be another agent in the bathroom waiting for you to come back. Once it’s done, you may return here.”

I sputtered angrily and shoved the test back in disgust. “Excuse me?! No disrespect, sir, but I haven’t had sex in almost three years-”

“I wasn’t asking you to do it.” The test was put more firmly back into my grip. “I’m telling you.”

There is absolutely no proof that I flipped my middle finger at this ‘agent’, but I’m sure no court would convict me.

Of course the test came back negative and the agent in the bathroom (male agent at that) ‘requested’ that I return to my office. I didn’t tell him I was going back there.

But I didn’t tell him I wasn’t either.

I was staying with the girls and like hell anyone was going to make me leave.

In groups of five, girls were marched to the bathroom. The ones that came back were sitting in a circle in the middle of the room. I made myself comfortable among them.

Alice was sitting next to me, and I noticed she was in handcuffs. “Please tell me they didn’t put those on you,” I said.

“What do you think?” Alice yanked at them with a scowl. “I wouldn’t take the pregnancy test. They handcuffed me and marched me into the bathroom. Would’ve made me actually pee if they could. What is happening, Dawn?”

Second time I’d been asked this question and I still had no answer. I sighed and wrapped an arm around her. “It’s going to be okay Alice. I promise.” I tried not to look at girls walking back into the room, pale and scared. Some were in handcuffs. And there was no sign of any of the officials taking them off.

Soon there was around fifty girls, ranging from freshman to seniors, all in this group. The leader had a whispered conversation with the other men before he came up to me.

“You are excused.”

I narrowed my eyes and my arms crossed. “What is going to happen to these girls? Who even are you?”

“I’m afraid that’s not something I can tell you.”

I’m blaming exhaustion and the lack of answers for my immediate reaction, which was to punch him in the face.

He went down, probably more from shock, and I was tackled to the floor by two different men.

The teenage girls who up until that moment were just sitting and crying were moved into action.

“HEY!”

“FUCK YOU!”

“LEAVE HER ALONE!”

“THAT IS OUR NURSE!”

Have you ever seen a group of pregnant teenage girls start a revolt? It’s not a pretty sight. Girls started pitching their text books and backpacks at the suited men around the room, cussing and screaming. I swear I saw Veronica bite one of them on the arm.

I was finally let up as many more girls got slapped in handcuffs. I looked over at the man in charge and felt a sharp smugness when I saw where I’d punched him was already starting to bruise. “I go with them. Or they will act like that the whole damn time, I swear to god,” I threatened, my sides aching and bruised.

He nodded coldly.

“I suppose that’s what we’ll have to agree on.”

We were loaded up on buses and taken to a nearby military base.

And I had a million papers pushed in my face. All of them said the same thing. I wasn’t going to report what happened here, this was top secret… yadda yadda yadda.

“And… sign here. And we are done.”

The man sat back at his desk, his finger interlaced.

“My name is Dr. McCray. Lori Wilder is dead.”

I felt like I got punched in the stomach. “What? How?”

Dr. McCray pulled out a report from his desk as if he had to remind himself what happened. Like Lori was just a blip on the radar. “She went in for the abortion this morning. It was standard, until the procedure actually began. She woke up despite being under heavy anesthetics and began to scream. Without cause she bled from her nose and ears while severely internally hemorrhaging. The procedure was halted and she was rushed to the hospital where she became catatonic and shortly afterward passed away.”

I blinked, hard. No. Not time to cry. I shook my head. “What does this have to do with the other girls?”

“You don’t think it’s strange that forty eight female students in a school of only five hundred are pregnant?”

Had to admit, he was the first one to call it strange out loud. I nodded. “I mean… yes? But why do you care?”

“The fetus wasn’t human.”

I laughed. I actually laughed. Just a nervous, high pitched laughter that died when Mr. McCray glowered again. “Wait… what?”

“To be accurate, half of it likely was human. But once the autopsy was conducted, the fetus was… nothing like we’d ever seen before.” Dr. McCray let the first emotion cross his face- fear and worry. “I know it’s harsh to detain dozens of young women who just want to enjoy their adolescence. But if you’d like to offer your presence, I can already see the girls are quite loyal to you.”

Live in a military base. Nothing but gray walls and pregnant girls who god knows what fathered their babies or go back to the school. I should’ve booked it.

Instead I said, “Give me a bed and I’ll make myself comfortable. These girls need me.”

Part Three

#scary stories #horror stories #sixpenceee stories #sixpenceee #the devil's wives

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