#Like there’s a character called Jamie Oliver ok

[i-may-be-an-emu]

how do I explain to people this is actually santa and mrs claus figuring out some stuff and trying to love each other again

[s-rosie]

JAVERY HCSSSSSSS #2

hiiii!!! i hope everyone is doing wonderful and taking care if themselves, with that said, i hope you like these!

jameson can rub avery’s stomach in just the right way, it gets rid of her period cramps

they make each other those aesthetic, cute, and meaningful gifts when the other is feeling shitty

they tried that “you need a hug” trend when the boyfriend jumps on the girlfriend’s back, and avery fell over and hit her nose (jameson then felt so bad, he gave her so many cuddles and kisses)

they have onesies that are stitch for jameson and angel for ave

they sing musicals together and assign each other characters to play

i hc that ave has hormone problems, so jamie will help her by holding her hair when she throws up, holding her when she gets dizzy, and giving her cuddles (not me projecting again 💀)

in their room, they have a whole corner filled with cute stuffies

they take long drives sometimes and just talk about life and scream sing their fav songs

jameson once pulled ave into a closet (😏) and oren was going crazy trying to find her because he thought she was kidnapped again (they then had to sit through a 20 minute lecture)

everyone online calls them “america’s favorite couple”

jamie loves going shopping with her and he has good fashion taste, so he will help her find outfits

one time nash told them to get a room, so jameson was like “fine maybe i will” and avery was like “fine by me” as a joke (not really) and nash was mortified

xander once dared them to play 7 minutes in heaven, and it got a bit heated

they went on a trip to nyc, and jameson taught avery how to ice skate at rockefeller rink because i hc he plays hockey

i hc ave is allergic to metal, so jamie covers all of his rings and jewelry with a clear coat so she can hold his hand, and he always makes sure to gets her hypoallergenic jewelry

they are both obsessed with combat boots, especially doc martens

they have spa dates before big events to make sure they look ✨fabulous✨

jamie and avery are the best at just dance, like if they team up against you you know its over for you

after “activities” (😏) jamie will carry her wherever she needs to go until she can walk

ave always takes the blankets and makes herself a burrito in the blankets (jamie acts annoyed but he obviously finds it adorable)

jameson loves olives, but ave hates them (the olive theory)

one time at the beginning of their relationship, she got overwhelmed by jameson touching her so she pulled away, and he felt like he did something wrong. she assured him it was ok and she just got overwhelmed so they made a secret tap that ave can do on jamie’s arm so he knoes to let go and give her space (though, she uses the tap less and less now)

at their wedding, jamie cried seeing avery walk down the isle, causing her to start crying and they met at the alter a bawling mess

they always hype each other up and stand up for each other no matter what

since i think it is pretty much cannon that jameson does nascar at this point, before his races, ave gets really scared that he will get hurt, so she will tell him things like “don’t die” and “if you die, ill kill you” and he just laughs and tells her he will be ok

at any event that either of them do, the other always brings them a gift pertaining to that event

ave is SUPER tickle ish, and jamie will tickle her sometimes until she cant breath (she pretends she hates it, but jamie kbows she loves it)

thank you so muchhhh! i hope you like these as much as i enjoyed making them. please give me some recommendations as to what yo make next. i will be busy for a while, so if i post few and far between, just know that i will be back (tho i will post more then that) so if i dont get to your request right away, just know i will eventually. thank you 😊

[isitgintimeyet]

Just a Friend

Sorry you’ve had to wait a few more days. i had a much needed few days holiday in Devon. And I realised it was the first time since February that I’d travelled more than 20 miles from home!

Anyway, we’re on to chapter 7. Thanks for reading and hope you enjoy

Thanks to @wickedgoodbooks for the beta.

Previous

AO3

Chapter 7: From Feedback to The Force

I can see it clearly in my mind’s eye. A converted barn, situated at the end of a leafy country lane, surrounded by fields full of cows and maybe a horse or two. Jamie’s office will be at one end— all exposed beams with classic mahogany and leather furniture. Perhaps chickens will be roaming around outside as tractors pull up to deliver vegetables straight from the neighbouring fields.

This image begins to fade as I follow my Sat nav instructions and take the next junction off the motorway. Country lanes look to be few and far between in this urban sprawl. Signposts along the tarmacked road point to a series of industrial estates. At the fourth such sign, I’m instructed to turn left and in three hundred yards will have reached my destination.

Having parked up, I make my way towards the large, uninspiring building which resembles some sort of aircraft hangar. Its grey concrete and corrugated iron walls match the overcast sky and the roughly surfaced car park. The only colour in this landscape is provided by the bright orange FraserFood logo emblazoned above the loading bays.

There’s a single door to the right with an intercom. I press it and wait a few seconds.

“Hello, there.” A cheery voice greets me. “Can I help ye?”

“Yes. Hello, I’ve an appointment with Ja— Mr. Fraser, Jamie. It’s Claire Beauchamp.”

“Aye, come on through. Jamie is expecting ye. Down the passage and third door on the left.”

I step into a long corridor, painted an unoriginal white. Fluorescent strip lights hanging from the ceiling cast a harsh brightness. The floor is covered with grey carpet tiles.—the same as in thousands of other working offices across the country.

What sets it apart and brings character to the otherwise anonymous environment is the artwork. Colourful photographs line the walls — a bowl of strawberries, their red glossiness accentuated by the white porcelain; a perfect corn on the cob, rivulets of melted butter flowing around the kernels; a plate of steaming tagliatelle, the parmesan shavings falling gently onto the pasta. Then, as I move further towards the office, the photographs change to a series of images that I instantly recognise, La Boqueria, one of the food markets in Barcelona.

I pause for a moment in front of a picture of one of the stalls selling spices. Strings of different chillies cascade down from the metal frame of the stall. The vibrancy of that market was intoxicating, the noise, the colours, the aromas. I remember wandering from stall to stall snacking on fat, juicy olives, slices of spiced ham and wedges of refreshing melon, just soaking up that atmosphere.

My stomach automatically rumbles at the memory just as Jamie steps into the corridor.

He laughs at this unconventional greeting. “And good day tae ye too. Ye found us alright then?”

“No problem. Sat nav brought me straight here. It’s—“ I stop myself before I say any more, but, as usual, my glass face gives me away.

“C’mon. What is it? It’s no’ what ye were expecting, is it?”

“No— yes—no. It’s fine. It’s just, well, I was expecting something more, er, rural… rustic, you know.”

He sighs, but I can tell that he’s not offended. “What, ye mean like on a farm? Wi’ chickens running around? And tractors bringing the vegetables straight from the fields?”

I nod, feeling not a little bit foolish.

“And down a wee winding country lane, that yer lumbering great vans and lorries have tae drive along? Wi’ no easy transport links fer all the deliveries? And having tae deal wi’ all the food hygiene standards in some great old barn?” He laughs. “Trust me, it may no’ be photogenic but it’s the best place fer the business.”

He takes my arm. “Let’s go intae ma office and I’ll make ye a cup of coffee.”

My stomach rumbles once more. “Don’t suppose you’ve got any of those lovely Spanish biscuits too, have you?”

*********

The display of colourful photographs continues in Jamie’s office. I don’t recognise the scenes, but, I’m guessing these are more local— fields of corn bordered by old drystone walls, hedgerows bursting with dark jewel-like brambles. I pause at a picture of an ancient stone mill, the calm water of the mill pond reflecting the rundown building perfectly.

“That’s a bonny picture, is it no’?” Jamie’s voice is low in my ear.

I turn around. He is standing behind me, gazing intently at the picture.

“It is. Where is it? I’m guessing it’s somewhere here in Scotland.”

“Aye, it’s the old mill at Lallybroch.”

“Where you grew up?”

He nods. “Generations of ma family used that mill tae grind flour fer them and their tenants. It’s empty inside now. The wheel has long since rotted away. Jenny and I would escape there whenever chores were tae be done. She took the photo, weel, most of the photos here actually.”

I study the photograph more closely. “She’s very talented as a photographer. Is that her job?”

“She’d love tae have done that, but once she married Ian and the bairns started appearing, she hasna got the time. Mebbe one day.”

He moves past me towards his desk and I catch a hint of his musky cologne. I find myself comparing it to the slightly synthetic cologne that Frank always favoured. I decide that Jamie’s is preferable. It’s more real, somehow, earthy and, well, more masculine.

“... does that sound ok?”  

I realise that whilst I was considering male scents, Jamie had been asking me a question. “Er, sorry, I was miles away. What did you say?”

“Am I really that boring tae ye?” He laughs. “I said I would make ye a coffee and invite Rupert tae come in and join us. He’s our Head of Product Development. Will ye no’ take a seat?”

I sit down on one of the chairs arranged around a circular meeting table and take a good look at the office while Jamie makes a phone call. The walls and ceiling are the same uninspiring white, livened up by all the photographs. There’s a couple of framed photographs near Jamie’s chair that seem to be more personal. I’m too far away to be able to see clearly, but they look like children... his nephew and niece perhaps?

Jamie’s ‘L’ shaped desk is made of grey wood, as is a tall bookcase and this meeting table. Simple, but clearly a considered purchase, no haphazard grouping of random furniture. The desk itself is remarkably free from clutter— just a laptop with two huge screens and a black leather document wallet. The contrast to the clutter on the desks in my office and home couldn’t be greater. Not that my clutter isn’t important to me—a collection of pots and dishes from my uncle’s archaeological digs plus a paperweight and letter opener that I remember, as a young child, at my parents’ house. Then I realise, looking at the family portraits surrounding Jamie’s desk, that he doesn’t need to gather mementoes from the past. He has a living, breathing close knit family creating memories all the time.

I’m well aware that most of my friends have more of a family than I have, or have ever had, and generally I’m fine with that. But every now and again it hits me right in the gut—this pang of...not loneliness, but more of being disconnected, rootless.

Before I can dwell on this,  there’s a faint tap at the door. It opens immediately and a woman stands in the doorway.  She’s easily past retirement age, quite short and… is sturdy a polite descriptor? Well, short and ‘motherly’ in appearance.

She’s very smiley too. Her eyes crinkle as she grins broadly before speaking. “Jamie, lad. I’ve come tae see if ye both want a coffee. I dinna mind making it. And mebbe a few biscuits?”

Jamie steps away from his desk. “Ah, Mrs. Fitz, how d’ye always ken what I want? Coffee would be grand. And fer ye Claire?”

“Coffee, please. Lovely. White, no sugar. Thanks.”

She looks at me for a moment before Jamie makes the introduction. “ Claire, this is Mrs Fitz. She’s worked wi’ me since I started and I dinna ken what I’d do wi’out her.”

He reaches across and pats her arm gently.

“Mrs. Fitz, this is Claire, a friend of mine. She’s been trying out our Spanish dinner party menu and has come tae meet wi’ Rupert tae give him her opinions.”

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Fitz.” I hold out my hand.

She takes it in both of hers. “And it’s lovely tae meet ye too, Claire.”

She turns away and heads out the door.

“Right-oh. Two coffees it is then,” she says clearly, then carries on muttering under her breath as she leaves. “Friends, is it, then? A bonny lass, sure enough…”

Jamie smiles apologetically. “Mrs. Fitz can be a bit, weel...she’s been working with me a long time. She’s like a second mother tae me…”

He leaves the sentence unfinished, but I know what he’s thinking. Why can’t people understand that we’re friends, that’s all?

*******

Rupert is a complete delight, but somehow not what I was expecting. He rushes into the office just as Jamie and I are drinking our coffees. Nearly as tall as Jamie but quite a bit broader with a large beard, like an overgrown teddy bear, and clad in a sweatshirt and baggy ill-fitting jeans, he looks as if he would be more at home on a rugby pitch rather than in a development kitchen. With Jamie now standing next to him, the office suddenly feels rather small.

Jamie makes the introductions and we settle once more around the table. Rupert places his notebook and pen on the table.

“Ye dinna mind if I take a biscuit or two, do ye?” He asks, with a smile. He knows how tasty they are.

Jamie and I shake our heads and Rupert reaches out and takes two in his large, fleshy hand. He starts to eat, sprinkling crumbs all over his notebook.

“Ye canna take me anywhere,” he says as he tries to sweep the crumbs into his hand.

Jamie laughs and playfully punches Rupert’s shoulder. “Weel, ye can… but only the once, mind.”

There’s an easy camaraderie between the two of them. I’m guessing that Jamie has worked with the same people for quite a while. It’s good to see.

Rupert swallows, picks up a tissue and wipes the stray crumbs from his beard.  “Right-oh. So, Claire, thanks fer doing this—“

“No, I should be thanking you. It was a great meal.”

“Weel, glad tae hear that, but I would appreciate any improvements we could make. Is there anything we need tae change?”

I’ve been racking my brains all the way here, trying to think of something constructive to say rather than just reeling off a list of compliments, nice as that would be for Rupert and Jamie. And, honestly, I don’t know what more I can add. The food was excellent, the wine matched perfectly and the olives were a thoughtful addition.

I tell them all this and Rupert solemnly notes it all down. Sitting there, side by side, elbows almost touching, they look for all the world like two proud parents being complimented on their child’s talents. But they have every right to be proud.

“And nothing else?” Rupert persists. “Nothing we could do better?”

“Well, a couple of tiny suggestions. Maybe a few more pictures with the recipes would help. I’m not the most gifted cook.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Jamie trying to suppress a smile. He’s never seen me in the kitchen, maybe he’s imagining me as some sort of culinary disaster area. I vow to prove him wrong at some point.

“And,” I continue as Rupert scribbles in his notebook. “Perhaps add a couple of suggestions to complete the Spanish night. I made sangria to start the evening. Could you add a recipe for that?”

Rupert closes his notebook with a flourish. “Right then. Thank ye sae much fer that. Glad yer friends all enjoyed the food.”

He stands up, shifting the table as he does so.

“Weel, bye then, Claire. Lovely tae meet ye. Hope tae see ye again.” He shoots a quick look across at Jamie before leaving.

“Rupert’s a lovely guy,” I comment as the door shuts behind him.

“Aye, he is that,” Jamie shifts in his seat. “Listen, I need tae ask ye a favour.”

“Another one,” I joke. “Wasn’t the dinner party enough?”

I add a sigh, purely for dramatic effect.

“Ye can say no if ye want tae,” he continues. “But I was wondering… weel... Ian, that’s Jenny’s husband, his rugby club is having a charity dinner dance a week on Saturday. Jenny’s bought two tickets fer me and a plus one. D’ye fancy it? It would help me out of a wee bit of bother with ma sister.”

Now I’m intrigued about his “wee bit of bother” with Jenny. I don’t want to end up in the middle of some sibling squabble.

“How so?” I’m not giving an answer straight away. At least not until I know what the bother is.

“Jenny bought the two tickets fer me a couple of months ago. I think she was assuming I would bring Laoghaire. But ye ken what happened there. Anyways, she asked me yesterday about it, and ever so casually suggested I might bring Kelly— that was ma date the other night.”

The pattern of Rupert’s crumbs on the table appears to suddenly be of great interest to him. He studies them intently as he talks, his ears turning slightly pink as he does so.

“And?” I prompt him.

“And, I told Jenny that after Laoghaire and I broke up, I didna want tae disappoint her about the dinner and so I’d already asked ye tae come along. As a friend,” he hastily adds the last part.

So, what do I decide? I do love the opportunity to have a bit of a dance and rugby club dos are usually a bit of a laugh, in my experience. And of course, I know Jamie is offering as a friend, so I’m not worried about that.

“Why don’t you want to ask Kelly then?” I want the full story before I give him my answer.

“She’s a nice enough lass but I didna think we had any spark. Plus she was trying too hard. Fer example she asked me what films I liked, then when I told her, she was all ‘no way, they’re ma favourites too’.”

He adds gestures at this point, to demonstrate Kelly’s actions, one hand flapping excitedly, the other resting on my sleeve, lightly stroking through the fabric of my shirt. It feels—

“Apparently we have exactly the same taste in films, music, food, drinks, television and holidays,” he continues as he sits back and folds his arms.

“Sounds like a match made in heaven to me.” I joke. I can still feel the sensation of his hand on my arm.

He looks up at me and frowns. “I’m no’ joking. Ye would be helping me if ye came as ma plus one.”

“Ok then. I do know that I’m not on call. I can come and be your wingman, if you like. Just one question. What are your favourite films?”

“Star Wars.”

This wasn’t the answer I was expecting. He doesn’t seem like a typical fan. Maybe he has a dark side that I haven’t yet seen, with a secret stash of Star Wars figures and multiple light sabres.

“I’ve never watched any of them.” It’s true. I seem to be in the minority but I just don’t get the appeal.

“And I can tell from yer face exactly what ye think of them. But they’re classics, weel most of them, anyway,” he starts to enthuse.

I shake my head. I can’t see that he will ever convince me.

“Well, Sassenach, have I got a treat in store for you!”

And, worryingly, it seems that he’s up for the challenge.

[chuffyfan87]

Hiding. Part 71b

“Calm down.” She spoke quietly, “I like to think this time, your mum will be ok.”

"I never had you down as stupid!" Peter remarked sarcastically.

“Hey!!” She frowned. “Don’t you dare call me stupid, Peter!”

Peter sighed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. It's just..." He shrugged.

“You’re scared.” She rubbed his arm, “But your mum’s probably just as scared.”

"Well she should have been more sensible then." Peter huffed.

“That’s not fair. How do you know it wasn’t a one time accident?”

"Coz she and dad are both nurses and it ain't like this hasn't happened before."

“If your mum is pregnant, you’re going to have to deal with it.”

"If she is I'm leaving home."

Sarah laughed, “And go where? All because she’s pregnant? She needs your support Peter! So does your dad.”

"Not sure yet. Fancy seeing if we can get a flat?"

“We’ll be going to uni soon? Unless you don’t want to anymore?” Sarah said quietly.

"Well I guess it all depends on how things turn out." Peter replied darkly.

“What do you mean?”

"I don't see dad being able to cope on his own do you?"

“You think this will kill your mum this time?” Sarah asked sadly.

"You didn't see her after last time."

Sarah sighed sadly but didn’t say anything.

Lottie nudged Louis accidentally as she ran past him. He waited til she was close again and shoved her hard.

She landed on the floor on all fours. Taking a deep breath, she stood up, brushed herself down and full on kicked Louis in his privates. “Don’t bully me!” She was a tough little thing.

"Little bitch!" He screamed as he went down.

Tilly saw what was happening and dived in. No-one picked on her younger twin! Tilly kicked him. “You don’t hurt my sister!!” She yelled.

Lottie swung round and also took aim.

Duffy saw what was happening and ran over. "What the bloody hell..?"

“He pushed me over. So I kicked him in his willy. And he called me a bitch.”

“That’s because she is a little bitch!” Louis muttered back.

“No one hurts my sisters!” Tilly replied, folding her arms across her chest.

"Right, you two," She indicated the twins. "With me. Charlie, deal with Louis please."

Charlie sighed, “OK.”

The twins followed their mum, holding each other’s hand.

"Are you OK?" Duffy asked Lottie, throwing a filthy look in Louis' direction. "You really shouldn't have got involved Tilly."

“Nobody hurts my sisters!” Tilly declared, “And not my little twin!”

Lottie nodded, “Sore knees though.”

"I know Tilly but Lottie can fight her own battles. Its not very fair if both of you pile in."

“She’s my sister.” Tilly pouted, “We twins.”

"I know." Duffy smiled, tweeking her daughter's nose.

"I hate Louis." Lottie declared.

"I'm sure he didn't mean it." Duffy replied weakly.

“He did.” Lottie insisted, “He don’t like us.”

"Why wouldn't he like you."

Lottie shrugged, “He’s always mean. To all of us.” She sighed.

"Just you girls or Oliver too?"

“Oliver too.” She said quietly as her bottom lip began to wobble.

"Oh sweetheart, is there something you want to tell mummy?" Duffy asked, crouching down and wrapping her arm around Lottie.

Lottie shook her head but buried her head into her mum’s shoulder and began to cry.

"I'll speak to daddy about Louis OK?" Duffy told Lottie as she stroked the youngster's back. Once she'd managed to calm Lottie down Duffy headed over to speak to Charlie. "A word." She whispered harshly.

“Yes?” He looked up and moved away from Louis for a second.

"Your son has been bullying the girls and Oli, what you going to do about it?" She demanded.

“I don’t know.” He admitted and sighed.

"This can't continue."

“I know it can’t.”

"So what are you going to do? I really don't need this right now!"

“I don’t know. I don’t know what to do!”

"He can't start fights like that." She sighed, running her hand through her hair, her other one resting against her lower back.

“I know, I know he can’t.”

She quickly moved her hand as she caught Peter staring at her again out the corner of her eye.

Peter rolled his eyes. Bloody brilliant! So she /was/ pregnant.

"Peter." Sarah sighed softly.

"Yeh, OK."

Peter placed his hand in Sarah’s and they headed outside.

Jake ran over to his parents. "Come look at this, it's the coolest thing ever!"

“What?” Charlie asked as he was practically dragged away along with Duffy.

Duffy got her feet tangled and almost stumbled as she tried to keep up.

“What’s cool?” Charlie asked.

"This!" Jake declared. It was an artwork of his favourite computer character. "I thought art was just all boring old stuff."

“That’s amazing! Do you know who drew it?” Charlie asked Jake curiously.

"Emmy will probably know." Duffy pointed out.

Jake went to find Emily, “Emmy, Em!” He called.

"You ok Jake?" She asked.

“Who did this?” He took her back to the art work he was mesmerised with.

"That's Jamie's work." Emily smiled shyly.

“Who’s Jamie? It’s really good! Almost as good as yours Em. But yours is better!” Jake replied as he hugged his sister.

Emily blushed. She nervously pointed to a boy roughly the same age as her brother with blonde spiky hair. "That's him." She whispered.

“Cheers Em!”

"That's OK." She shrugged. "If he's nice to you can you tell him that you're my brother?" She added nervously.

“He’s mean to you?” Jake frowned.

"No. I don't think he even realises I exist." She sighed.

He smiled, “You’re too young to be focusing on boys, Em.”

"You sound like dad!" She complained.

Jake chuckled, “Sorry Em.”

"Jake..?" She asked tentatively.

“Yes Em?”

"Is Louis OK?"

“Yes I think so.”

"Oh, OK." She shrugged before leaving Jake to chat to Jamie.

An hour or so later it was approaching the end of the exhibition. The students were gathered together as there were some presentations to be made.

Emily began to rub her stomach. She was nervous. She got more and more disheartened as the reached the last few presentations.

Until her name was announced...

She looked with bewilderment at her parents.

Charlie and Duffy grinned at their daughter and encouraged her to go up on the stage.

Emily headed nervously to the stage.

She was given an award, for the best newcomer. Basically, everyone thought she was amazing at art and had given her an award to reflect that.

She blushed but was grinning from ear to ear.

The Fairhead family clapped the loudest.

Emily was still grinning when they got back to their cars.

Charlie caught Emily’s eye in the rear view mirror. She was so happy!

In Duffy's car Jake was talking animatedly about his new friend Jamie who had all the best computer games. Duffy and Sarah couldn't help but giggle at his exuberance. Peter, however, was still in a mood which made the atmosphere for the ride home somewhat tense.

Charlie made a mental note to check in on him when they got back.

Once home Duffy threw herself into cracking on with various chores in an attempt to put off the impending discussion with the kids.

Charlie gestured for Peter to join him in the garden.

Peter reluctantly followed his father outside.

“You’ve had a face on you all day, what’s wrong?” Charlie asked Peter as they sat down on the bench.

"You promised you wouldn't lie to me anymore."

Charlie sighed, “I’m not lying to you.” He paused. “You know your mum’s pregnant, don’t you?”

"Yeh. I knew something was going on for a while but I didn't think you were stupid enough to let something like that happen again so I'd been wracking my brain trying to work it out."

“That makes both of us then because I’ve been doing exactly the same.”

"What do you mean?"

“I should’ve been more careful. If your mum dies, none of you will ever forgive me. Will you?”

Peter rolled his eyes. "You really need to stop the whole 'it's all my fault, your mum is just an innocent little flower in all of this...' thing dad."

Charlie met Peter's eye, “You don’t blame me?”

"I do a bit but it's obvious mum's got you wrapped round her little finger and you just give in to what she wants."

“That’s because have you ever been on the receiving end of that redhead temper of hers?”

"I'm not scared of that anymore." Peter retorted. "She can scream and rant and rage all she wants, I ain't listening." He added with the cockiness only a teenager could possess.

Charlie laughed, “Well as much as I love your mum, her redhead temper terrifies me.”

Peter was quiet for a while. "So were you planning to tell us or just gunna let us work it out for ourselves?"

“Your mum wanted to wait until she was twenty weeks.” Charlie smiled, “But we were going to sit you all down tonight and tell you.”

"What made you change your mind? Coz it was becoming obvious?"

“I knew some of you wouldn’t be happy about the situation.”

"So you decided not to tell us? Were you planning to just bring the baby home from the hospital one day and hope we didn't ask too many questions?" Peter retorted sarcastically.

“No of course not.” Charlie shook his head. “We were going to tell you when your mum was twenty weeks but I thought it was too late.”

"Coz she's already struggling to hide it and she's nowhere near that stage yet?"

“Because I knew none of you would be happy with the situation and that you’d have a few more months to deal with your emotions around your mum’s pregnancy!”

"Does she seriously have some kind of deathwish?"

“Your mum’s chasing the perfect scenario.” Charlie shrugged. “Could call it a death wish, I suppose.”

[sablelab]

Covert Operations - Chapter 34

DISCLAIMER: This is a modern AU crossover story with Outlander and La Femme Nikita. LFN and its characters do not belong to me nor do those from Outlander.

SYNOPSIS:  An unconscious Claire Beauchamp is taken to Madame Cheung’s sprawling, secluded residence. Meanwhile Jamie is worried that Claire has fallen off surveillance.  What will he do when Section One loses contact with her?

 Your support is much appreciated and THANK YOU for reading the last chapter of Covert Operations. I’m sorry that I shocked you a little with the underhand tactics used on poor Claire. Hopefully there will be no more shocks or will there be more?  Previous chapters can be found ... https://sablelab.tumblr.com/covertoperations

CHAPTER 34

 The helicopter flew over the rural hinterland and urbanized areas under development of the Sai Kung Peninsula in the New Territories.  Many of Hong Kong’s residents made their way to this picturesque area for the weekend, and it was in this vicinity that the helicopter flew. The area of Clearwater Bay was their ultimate destination as this was where Madame Cheung’s sprawling, secluded summer residence was situated in an untamed and rough-contoured area of the peninsula.

In what seemed like no time at all the marked landing field came into view and the pilot put the appropriate landing procedures into action.  Making its descent the helicopter came to rest on the helipad situated near the house and where two of Madame Cheung’s bodyguards were waiting for Oliver Chan and his unconscious passenger. Once the rotor blades had stopped turning the burly men approached the aircraft to retrieve their employer’s newest guest.  

Helping a drugged Claire Beauchamp from the helicopter they placed her into the back seat of a waiting Rolls Royce.  

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

This was not an unusual occurrence for them; for they had seen many women come to this residence in a similar fashion.  Madame Cheung left nothing to chance and it was better for the women to be drugged and be compliant than change their minds on the way to this secretive location. Furthermore it was a very necessary precaution to stop any potential assailants from following, trying to stop the women or more importantly finding the secret location of Madame Cheung’s residence.  Once at her property she was then able to convince them of the rewards of joining her employ.  Her business was after all the Rising Dragons’ business and no one messed with the wrath of the triad group if they knew what was good for them. All who worked for the triad had their mantra well and truly ingrained in their way of thinking.

 Be cautious of its ruthless ways

This enigma to the night For the Dragon bears upon his wings A chilling tale of fright The Rising Dragon!

This new woman was just another one in a long line of candidates some of whom chose not to join Madame Cheung.  Unfortunately those who were not amenable were disposed of before they had a chance to change their minds or realise the huge mistake they had made. Madame Cheung did not want indecisive people working for her.  She catered for an exclusive clientele and she had a reputation to maintain on a lot of levels and not only that but she had to maintain “face”.  That was so important in Chinese culture ... for to lose face was to admit a weakness, and she was anything but weak. Those women who did comply were treated well and lived the life of luxury with riches few would ever imagine.  However, they were required to adhere to a code of silence … or suffer the consequences of their actions if they were to go against the triad.  Madame Cheung was powerful but the Rising Dragons were more so.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Oliver Chan got into the Rolls Royce next to Claire, and as he sat down her body slumped towards him resting against his body as the driver proceeded toward the house. He straightened her back up in the seat, then Oliver looked at Claire with some feelings of guilt.  However, those feelings were fleeting as he thought of the reception he would get from Madame Cheung when he delivered this alluring woman into her hands. He was in the business for better or worse now and Claire Beauchamp was to be his piece de résistance.  

A sly smirk crossed his lips as he settled in for the ride to the house as thoughts of grandiose proportions floated around in his mind.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Meanwhile James Fraser was extremely worried at the loss of Claire from surveillance for some time and contacted Fergus at Section One to put in motion a broad search using all their facilities to find her. 

”Fergus?  Do ye have a trace on Claire?”

Alarm resonated in his voice when he replied,” Not yet … We seem to have lost her.”

This was not the answer Jamie was expecting and that was particularly evident in his voice as he replied to Section One’s techie. “Find her Fergus … Now!”

“I’m trying Jamie, but the tracker frequency has died.”

“Use the password for her clock frequency,” was Jamie’s other suggestion.

“Good idea … I’ll work on that.”  

The young techie genius pulled up a series of sequences on his monitor and keyed in Claire’s data to activate the programme.  Looking at the screen he waited until the monitor showed a map of Hong Kong and the surrounding islands.  A small square outline soon drifted across the map before settling on the New Territories area where a small dot appeared.

With relief evident in his voice, Section’s techie alerted Jamie, “Okay, here you go.  The area is the southern tip of Sai Kung Peninsula.”

This information was at least a start to pinpoint just where Claire may be but it was not nearly enough information for James Fraser. “Whereabouts on the peninsula?”

“Near Clearwater Bay. Looks like a couple kilometres outside the village of Poi Toi O.” 

“Do we have anyone in that area?” 

Fergus keyed new data into his computer and read the result that appeared.  “I've got two Panda Teams in Shenzhen, China.  They’re the closest to her but …” 

“Patch me in.”  Jamie replied without waiting for him to finish what he was saying. Time was of the essence and he was mindful that it was imperative that they move swiftly or else Claire may be in grievous danger.

Insistently Fergus replied, “… they are close but ... they have a situation in China.”

“Give me the co-ordinates … I'm on my way.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sometime later, as an unconscious Claire Beauchamp lay on a bed, her facial and arm muscles began to twitch as she started to come out of her drugged sleep. Opening her eyes as she awoke, Claire felt groggy and disoriented and slowly she tried to get up but could only lie there groaning. Rolling on the bed, half in and half out, she thrashed about trying to regain her equilibrium.  Although it was obvious that she was suffering from the drug's side effects Claire had the presence of mind to activate her comm. Unit in order to alert Section to her whereabouts.  

Her head ached and her mouth felt dry, and when she tried to stand up she was unable to keep her balance and fell back towards the bed.

“Is anybody there?  Where am I?” she managed to utter softly … then a little louder called out again, “Jesus H Roosevelt Christ!  Where am I?”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Claire finally managed to get up again a little while later and wandered over to the window on the other side of the room which overlooked a small courtyard where roses were in full bloom.  All of a sudden the sound of the door opening alerted her to the arrival of someone and she turned her head to see if it was Madame Cheung, however, when the door fully opened Oliver Chan appeared.

Standing just inside the room, he looked somewhat accountable as to what had happened to her before inquiring, “Are you feeling all right?”

“I'm fine.  Where am I Oliver?  Who are you really?” 

”It's not important.  I'm here to get you ready.”

“Ready?  ...”

Moving away from the window she asked more lucidly, “Ready for what?” 

“You're going to meet someone.  We need to make sure you're coherent.”  

“So, what are you then Oliver?   A terrorist?”

“No.” 

“You have brought me here under false pretences Mr. Chan.  I want to know what is going on!”

“All in good time.  Don’t be afraid Claire … what I promised you can be a reality … just wait and see.”

“Why should I trust you?  Hmmm?  You drugged me for God’s sake.”

Oliver Chan shook off Claire’s tirade ignoring what she had said, and started to back out of the room. “You seem to be clearheaded enough.  I'll send someone up in five minutes.  Freshen up,” and he left the room closing the doors behind him. 

Meanwhile back at Section One...

 “Wait Jamie … something’s happening.” 

 “What is it Fergus?”

 “I’m getting a signal from Claire.  She is trying to contact us.”

 James Fraser closed his eyes in relief and put his comm. unit on to open frequency so that he too could hear the moment that Claire tried to make contact.

 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Looking around the room Claire activated her comm. unit once more trying to raise any signal that would show her that she had been successful in making contact with Section One

“Fergus are you there?”

Nothing!

No reply.  

The drug Oliver Chan had injected her with was finally beginning to wear off.  Her head was a little less fuzzy, and she was beginning to regain her thought faculties although still a little slower than she would like.  Although she was to meet Madame Cheung at last, first things first, she needed to make contact with her surveillance and Claire continued trying to contact Section One as to her predicament.  

She knew at this moment that she was on her own in a situation that they had not envisaged for there had been no reply.  She tried again.

“Fergus ... are you there?”

As she did so her comm. unit finally buzzed with a voice dear to her ears.

“Cl-aire?”

There was no mistaking the Scottish brogue and the tenderness of her name rolled off her partner’s lips.

“Jamie?”

The sound of Claire’s voice was indeed a relief. “Where are ye?”  he asked.

“I'm at Madame Cheung’s hideaway.”

“Are ye OK Sassenach?”

“Yes ... I’m ... fine Jamie. Chan drugged me and brought me here, but I don’t know exactly where.”

“It’s all right we have the coordinates.”

Suddenly Claire heard footsteps approaching her room. “Jamie … someone’s coming.”

“We've got your location, de-activate.”

They quickly severed communication.

As he took the comm. unit from his ear, Jamie’s concerned feelings were reflected in the way he pensively rubbed his chin and taped his fingers on the steering wheel of the BMW.  Although he knew Claire could look after herself, his worry was the unknown quantity that was … Madame Cheung.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Follow me please,” bowed a beautiful Chinese girl who entered the room a short while later.

Claire looked up at her request, to see who had come into the room.  “Where are we going?” she asked, but the girl merely smiled and left the room as quietly as she had entered it.  Claire had no option but to follow the retreating back of the Chinese girl. They proceeded down a long corridor to a large open room with French windows that overlooked the garden that Claire had seen from the bedroom where she was.

“Please take a seat.  Madame will be here shortly,” the girl said before she turned and left her alone in the room.

Claire watched her leave before quickly scanning the room then activating her comm. unit she contacted Jamie once more.  

“Jamie, I'm in.”

“Did ye do a scan?”

“Yes ... The room is clean.”

“And the target?”

“Madame Cheung is about to come and meet me.”

“Keep on open channel then and we will monitor everything.”

“Okay.”

No sooner had Claire disconnected than she heard the sound of voices conversing in Chinese outside the room.  Quickly she sat in a comfortable chair near the window with a view of the garden and waited for the target to arrive.

The door opened again.

“Good afternoon, my dear.  I apologize for keeping you waiting.”

Claire immediately twirled around at the sound of a female voice.  She looked up and came face to face with the only hierarchical woman member of the Rising Dragons triad.  Surreptitiously appraising the target as she entered the room, what Claire saw was a far cry from what she thought she would see. Madame Cheung was a distinguished looking Chinese woman with dark hair and piercing eyes.  Adorned with expensive jewellery, she had the air of sophistication about her.

“There’s nothing to be alarmed about,” she said, then calmly approaching where Claire sat Madame Cheung asked, “You are Claire?”

“Yes.”

“How nice to make your acquaintance,” the woman replied.

Her eyes covertly canvassed Claire Beauchamp from head to toe as the two women studied each other for a moment before Claire spoke, “Where am I?  Why was I brought here?”

“You have been brought here by Oliver Chan at my request.”

“Why was I drugged?”

"I’m sorry my dear but that was necessary to protect me.”

“And … who are you?”

“My name is Madame Cheung and this is my home ... amongst other things.”

She moved further into the drawing room stopping next to a table and once more scrutinised the young woman in front of her. Madame Cheung’s steely eyes missed nothing.  It was as if she had looked right through her.  Claire did not reply but was observant of the woman too who was giving her the once over with eyes that sparkled with hidden meaning.

“Take off your clothes, Claire.” Madame Cheung nonchalantly requested without warning.

“What?” Was Claire’s flabbergasted reply.

“I said  ... Take off your clothes.”

“Go to Hell!” Claire answered curtly.

“Well, you can remove them yourself, or I can call for assistance and have someone else remove them for you if you would prefer. The choice is yours.”

Madame Cheung watched Claire without twitching a muscle, as the young woman in front of her decided whether to respond to her request or not. She smiled satisfied when Claire jumped up and hastily removed her clothes although Madame Cheung could tell by her actions she was not happy with the request asked of her.  

Standing there naked, Claire was non communicative while Madame Cheung’s eyes traversed her torso.  “Hmmm!  That’s enough ... Oliver was right,” she stated out loud.  “You are a beauty.   Now ... put your clothes back on before you catch cold.”

Claire Beauchamp gave her a steely look as she dressed. “Was that necessary?”

“Absolutely ... You see, Claire, you are here for a very special reason.”

“And that is?”

“Mutually exclusive business that will change your life, but I need something from you first. I need your compliance, and at this point no doubt ... you would inveigh against any request.”

"Why am I here?” Claire asked more determinedly.

“It's an orientation of sorts to see if we are compatible.”

“Compatible for what?”

“Why … for making money of course.  You my dear could be my crown jewel.”

“I'm sorry. ...  Who are you again?” Claire asked somewhat vexed.

“Someone unlike anyone you've ever met.”  Madame Cheung stared at her unwaveringly while Claire held her look waiting for her to continue.  “If you decide to go back to that five and dime nightclub my dear, you will have made the wrong decision and I will be extremely disappointed.”

“What is this all about?”

Moving closer to Claire she said, “Let me see your hand.”

With reluctance she placed her hand in Madame Cheung’s, who looked at it and ran her finger across the lines on Claire’s palm. “Hmmm … long lifeline … I see we are going to have a very fruitful relationship …” This imposing woman looked up into Claire’s puzzled blue eyes.  “You'll fit in nicely to our work here.”

Pulling her hand from her grasp, Claire shot daggers at Madame Cheung as she continued to speak.

“Let me explain my dear … I’m sure we are going to work extremely well together and you are going to make us a lot of money.”

“But I haven’t agreed to anything yet.”

“Oh, but you will!” She smiled knowingly. “Come now.  I will order some Yum Cha and we will discuss how we will be mutually beneficial to one another.”

Madame Cheung clapped her hands and before too long Claire could hear voices outside the door once more.  It opened and the Chinese girl who had escorted her to this room re-entered and looked directly at Madame Cheung.

“Yes Madame?”

“Ah … Lee … please bring some tea and something to eat for me and my guest … and ask Mr Chan to join us here.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Prepare the guest room as well and see that Miss Beauchamp has everything that she needs.”

“Certainly Madame Cheung.  Will that be all?”

“For the moment.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

No sooner had the Chinese girl left the room than Madame Cheung again turned to Claire.  Her countenance gave nothing away, although a smile crossed her face and her eyes watched Claire like a hawk.  

“So my dear, did Oliver outline his proposal to you?”

“Ah … yes he did,” she replied.

“Well then … have you made a decision?”  

“I would like to know exactly what would be required of me.”

“Certainly … to put it quite simply … you will be transformed into an even more beautiful young woman with the best of everything at your beck and call. The Rising Dragons triad will spare no cost in making you the most desirable woman on our books for my escort business caters for only the very best in society.  The rich, powerful and influential men, who visit Hong Kong, often require the services of an intelligent and beautiful companion from time to time and that is where you will fit in.”

“I see.”

“Diplomats and businessmen always pay generously for conversation and companionship with a beautiful young woman such as yourself.”

“Is that all?”

“You will of course, be paid most handsomely for exclusive and discreet gentlemen to have the pleasure of your company at functions and … privately on occasion,” she added with a slightly contained grin on her face.

“Will I be required to have sex with these men?” Claire asked in all seriousness.

“That decision is for you alone my dear, you may choose to do so or you may not.  It is entirely up to you.  However, having said that, from time to time there are special requests from some of our clientele, but no one is forcing you to do anything against your free will.”

“But … I was brought here...”

Interrupting her query Madame Cheung continued. “Drugging you was a necessary precaution Claire … but you did come voluntarily after Oliver had outlined his proposal to you at the nightclub. Did you not?”

“Yes.”

“Well then, when you have had a chance to think things over, I’m sure you will come to the right decision ... Until then you will remain here as my guest and we shall begin your transformation.”

  *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ to be continued

[dapperfvck-arc]

𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐈’𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑. repost, don’t reblog.

one / name / alias.  Iggy, Rizu, Erza two /  birthday.  Sep. 19 three / zodiac sign.  virgo four /  height. 5′8 five  /  hobbies.  writing, crying about John, crying about Matt Murdock, crying about the MCU, crying about fictional characters in general, questioning my life decisions, FFXIV seven / favourite books.  Exquisite Corpse by Poppy Z., Drawing Blood, also by Poppy Z. Pretty much anything by Poppy Z. Um. Honestly I haven’t been reading enough lately aside from comics and RP. I also love horror in general but only in book form because I can’t handle the visuals and reading about true crime. eight  /  last song listened to.  Good question. Haven’t a clue. Probably put on a playlist and zoned out. nine  /  last film watched.  In theatre, Jurassic World...the second one? Lost Kingdom? Idek it was garbage. At home, GotG 2 last night.  ten  /  inspiration for muse. *deep breath* Ok. 95% of my portrayal is based on the og Vertigo Hellblazer, the one that ended in in like the early ‘00s. I’m going to real and honest to anyone new to this blog. I don’t like how he’s been written in the DC reboot of Hellblazer. I mean, the first story arc that Simon Oliver wrote was fine, slow, but fine, and desperately aping Jamie Delano’s style without the substance. He also cut me deep for what he did to Map. That wasn’t cool at all. Making him senile. The fuck. Also not a fan of the TV series, animation, or JLD. We’ll leave it at that. I don’t want my salt to rub anyone wrong. I’ve been told that’s a thing that happens. Ironically(?) I love the movie. Like seriously. Love. The. Movie. I even have a verse for it and a shit ton of head canons and afhtghdtrhg. Other, non canon/obvious inspirations include listening to Nick Cave (Let Love In is a go to) and Guy Richie movies, particularly the first Sherlock one like listen ok???? That part with him drawing that magic circle, all fucked up, the hallucinatory way it was filmed? Peak Hellblazer aesthetic. I would sell my soul for him to direct a Hellblazer movie. eleven  / dream job.  One that doesn’t make me want to hang myself at the end of the day, but seriously, I would like to write professionally. twelve  / meaning behind your url.  A bit of an inside joke. In the first year I started in this blog I was posting a lot of comic pages and tended to tag the ones where John was looking especially handsome or well dressed as #look at this dapper fuck. For awhile this blog was actually called dapperfxck, but I changed it eventually because sometimes I change my url like I change my hair colour, I didn’t save it to a side blog though and someone else took it, their blog was eventually deactivated and I could never get it back. So I changed the substitution letter and that was that, and I actually like it a lot better this way. Since losing that last url, tho, I’ve taken to squatting on urls I like via sideblog. because I’m a fucking monster.

TAGGED BY: @sheinvestigate

[aratilightwood]

Lady of thorns and swords - part two

This is a short story I’ve written. I am open to any feedback, and requests of writing prompts from ‘the shadowhunter chonicles.’

...

Three arrows farm - the new shadowhunter academy 2015

‘Ok, so this is the part where you run!’ Drusilla Blackthorn shouted, with a mouth full of popcorn, at the tv screen.

There was no use. Like most horror movies, you could not stop characters making silly mistakes Drusilla thought as she watched the child being dragged down the gutter.

‘Is it over yet?’ called the terrified voice of her companion, who was covering her face with a pink fluffy pillow.

Thais Morena had black hair and pretty big brown eyes. She was the daughter of the head of the Rio institute. She had come to study at the academy at the same time Drusilla had.

Thais was always trying to convince Drusilla to watch romantic comedies she loved. But after being tricked into watch ‘ghost,’ which had a deceptive title, Drusilla had drawn a line.

No more soppy romantic nonsense.

They were both sitting on Drusilla’s bed, with a cluster of different snacks: a large bowl of popcorn, cheesy nachos and sour sweets.

Their bedroom was unique, one side of the room was painted dark with horrifying posters, while the other was painted bright pink with pictures of mundane pop singers hanging on the wall.

There was nothing else that could best describe the difference between the girls’ personalities.

‘It’s over.’ Drusilla said. ‘and you have to promise to keep your pillow away from your face throughout the rest of the movie.’

‘I can’t make promises I can’t keep.’ Thais replied with a small smile on her face.

Drusilla just rolled her eyes. She thought it would have been difficult to adjust to life at the New academy, but she surprisingly fit in.

She loved spending time with her other friends as well. Olivia Rosewain was an avid reader, and she had convinced Drusilla to do a read-a-thon with her to see how quickly they could finish ‘The Harry Potter’ series.

Sam Pontmercy was also very close to Drusilla, he had a sweet personality and would have probably chose a career as a chef if he was a mundane. He would always compare himself to a famous British cook named Jamie Oliver and made grilled-cheese sandwiches most of the time.

The farm did not have much spectacular views, but Drusilla would often walk by the lake and remember the stories that were told. This was the place where Simon had rose the Angel Raziel who gave him Glorious.

The teachers seemed helpful enough. Drusilla could mostly confide in Caterina Loss who taught downworlder studies. But Professor Whitelaw was not on good terms with her.

He taught rune studies, and yesterday everyone was learning how to create a fire message. Drusilla had consequently set her table on fire instead and got into trouble for nearly burning down the classroom.

Attending the new Shadowhunter academy made her happy, but she did miss home sometimes. Tavvy’s tenth birthday had occurred two weeks ago, and Drusilla had sent him a personalised dagger etched with the design of thorns.

He was still a little too young, but Drusilla knew that the blade would become handy when Tavvy started training in two years.

Drusilla was also aware that Helen and Aline were asking Magnus and Alec for advice about adoption. She could not wait for a chance to finally be an aunt.

‘You know,’ Thais drawled. ‘There’s going to be a new student arriving at the academy tomorrow.’

‘I overheard Professor Whitelaw when he was talking about it with Miss Loss.’ Drusilla said, still keeping her eyes on the tv screen.

‘Isn’t it exciting?’ asked Thais ‘I heard he’s half faerie.’

‘We get new students at the academy all the time, Thais.’ Drusilla sounded exasperated. ‘there’s nothing exciting about it.’

Thais sighed, ‘I hope he’s nice.’

‘lets see what tomorrow brings,’ Drusilla replied with a yawn.

[sunnysynthsunshine]

6th Comedy Monologue

“So folks, that whole Brexit rubbish is finally over isn’t it?”

“I know, some of us could see it coming and Teresa May looks like the spitting image

of the stepmother from Cinderella

how come nobody has noticed that yet?

we all have politicians we don’t like don’t we?

at times like this, I have to remind myself Teresa May is a very well liked woman

but then I remember back in the day Margaret Thatcher was also a very well liked woman

don’t you think she and Teresa may are quite similar?

well this is how she’d treat a political problem

*attempts impersonation*

“what’s that? ok men I did you to do this and then this and then this and this”

whereas Teresa may would handle the situation like…

*attempts impersonation*

what’s this? oh leave it for a few months

but the main thing is they both hate poor people so who cares what they think

I actually sort of understand why people like Jeremy Corbyn but I had written that previous gag back in late June of last year, speaking of outdated gags

Pirates were the communists and socialists of the 17th century

they wanted money, disagreed with colonialism and didn’t care what the government thought of them

like with communists they were accepting and inclusive but they wanted gold

the pirates accepted many on their ship they allowed homosexuality, they allowed women in strong roles  there were great times had on the high seas

even with the loot, they got they’d share it evenly what other power was involved with being inclusive with most things except money Oh Yeah! the communists

Yes, Yes we’ll handle it we’ll accept you but give us all your money

communism is a good concept but in the end, people get greedy for the money

like with pirates

we’ll accept you matey but give us some gold

however they didn’t agree about the government, they had their own independent pirate crews and disagreed with colonialism and capitalism

kind of like some of us, I think

we criticize politics, we like to party and we accept most people except colonialists …and capitalists...

Oh well, at least there’s been good music with Marina and the diamonds, Ariana Grande and the 1975

We, humans, love music

which makes me think about bands related to Homosapians

in the 60s we had the Monkees good band good name

and now we have Arctic Monkeys, Gorillaz, Rang a Tang and Apes

what about the lesser known homosapian types

Chimpanzees and Baboons

if music existed in Planet of the Apes

the Kate Bush hit Babooshka would be about a

monkey looking for love after getting his heart broken seeing his wife cheat on him with an older mandrill

only to fall in love again with who he’d call his baboonska

Animals are interesting creatures whether they are made of glass, made of 1960s haircuts or made of the first songs of a math rock band

Another good thing about music and animals is that Roger Taylor is going to help us save the bees

Thinking bee! Thinking queen! thinking bee! Thinking queen!

Speaking of which there’s been a whole glam rock/synthpop revival going on

And I love that

although as a kid I watched media from all sorts of different decades

While they watched Jersey Shore and Love Island I was watching Disney and CBBC sitcoms mixed with Japanese cartoons and shows from years before like Jem and the holograms, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and the original my little pony series.

I would also watch funnybones, the original noody series from a VHS I “borrowed” from my neighbours, as well as the Muppet show and some classic cinema.

I think it’s amazing that this revival is happening it’s like the 60s,70s,80s,90s and early 2000s are all going on at the same time.

Revolutionary anarchic protests, Androgynous rockers, Neon colours, post-punk indie shows, peculiar fashion trends and reality shows as well as the cybernetic future beyond

But I’m also cold and angry about how this is happening because on the other hand, there are things carried over from previous decades that shouldn’t still be around...fascists in positions of power, nonces in the entertainment industry, Threat of a nuclear war, low economy, Jamie Oliver, Piers Morgan, Death, Pollution,Misogyny,Misandry,Sexism,Racism and White Supremacy

I could list more, but I can’t think at the moment I’m focusing on my work while morons on Twitter and Tumblr are yabbering on about vegan sausage rolls.

I’ve never tried Greggs before but I’m sure the vegans and vegetarians are happy that a mainstream chain like Greggs has made a product catered specifically for them, whereas before if you asked for a “vegan option” at a restaurant the waiter would scratch their neck.

However not all restaurants are like this,having to work overtime dealing with angry parents,screaming children and the odd nazi at Mcdonalds is not an easy task,yet so many waiters and workers across the world are able to somehow keep those businesses afloat,you guys, girls and comrades don’t get enough credit,you should be paid more,no wonder so many mainstream restaurants are having strikes or running out of food and people are either going to more independently funded places or ordering online to get their daily dose of fast fried convenience.

and while I would be interested in trying a vegetarian diet,It would be hard for me to give up eating chicken that quickly but I don’t really eat meat that often,and before you say anything as long as cannibals don’t use their choice of food in a dangerous way they’re ok with me, it’s no different to when our prehistoric ancestors had to hunt to find food in order to survive,some people still have to do that,it’s sad...it really is,while Christianity isn’t something I believe in anymore, it did say in the bible that Jesus shared his bread and food with his people,and I think some of us should start doing that,and if you already do whether it’s a snack you have or leaving out leftover food from your side takeaway business, that’s brilliant your making more people happy and your allowing more people to enjoy food and to have access to that basic human necessity that we all should be able to have to access to.

Sharing is another primary school lesson it feels like half of humanity has forgotten about outside of basic decency and kindness, but I’m probably not the one to talk about that since I was called “Rude” for most of my life.

there’s a big difference between telling someone they’re a plonker and making someone more aware of how they can improve themselves as a person.

Most of us all have flaws, most of us have had toxic moments,

we’ve all at times had moments where we’ve said something wrong that we didn’t mean,

or times where our cowardliness has accidentally caused misunderstandings and drama

or times where we didn’t intend to sound hurtful but that’s how it came across, or times where we’ve blindly followed toxic people, imitating their actions without meaning to or just generally times where we’ve been ignorant little eijjits.

Even people some would say were flawless had flaws or problematic aspects about them

David Bowie wasn’t too nice to his wife Angie in later years, Graham Lineman and Robert Webb are transphobic, Rowan Atkinson supports Boris Johnson’s “so-called” jokes and Ricky Gervais doesn’t like hearing people with different opinions than him.

Overthinking however can exaggerate this, overthinking can take that one time you were a bit rude as a child and that problematic “fandom” phase you had as a preteen and make you feel like your worst person in the world.

Your not, but most of us have had moments,there’s also the “not like other girls/boys phase” sometimes it’s just a light-hearted comparison drawing or blog post taken out of context other times it’s the grown-up equivalent of saying “I like this thing over your other thing that means I’m better than you”

Considering my at times cold thoughts it’s weird that I’m the person of all people telling you this

It’s perfectly ok to be prideful and narcissistic just don’t be so arrogant that you forget about your morals and the people that you're close to, but if at times because of mental health you question your levels of empathy, sympathy and compassion that’s ok too, your voices deserve to be heard, and there is help available you can find it through helplines, organizations or even your own comrades.

Outside of all the twits in this horrid fishbowl of a world, there are also millions of very kind nice people, I don’t know where I’d be now without my comrades

The offline pals who are like my sunshine because they brighten up my day,the old secondary school friends that made me feel less alone,the online people who I can vent to, converse with and joke with,the bloggers from years ago that I still sometimes keep in touch with and the creators who through their work in Media, Theatre and the Arts were able to encourage me to keep going, keep working, keep creating.

I think your all lovely and beautiful and creative human beings, no matter what identity you are, what music genre you listen to or what topping you prefer on your pizza

I will most likely adore you and if I haven’t it’s probably because I haven’t met you yet

You are one biscuit of cells, on this fishbowl planet, your mind is a land of wonder and your body is the garden surrounding it, take care of yourself like how you take care of your garden, your pets or the fictional characters you write about.

Your future might not be the future you expect, but it’s one you’ll enjoy.

if you are doing something you love which harms nobody, be as happy and passionate about it as you like

you are a person who deserves the world

Don’t push yourself too hard, if you know you’re doing a good job keep at it, don’t stress yourself too hard, but remember not to procrastinate, your mental health is important, some people might not understand all of the issues you’re going through, but you can make it out alive.

You're, not a number or statistic you're a person, your a beautiful, Kind, incredible, wise person

spread some love and don’t forget what the late Freddie Mercury said,

Keep yourself Alive!

[pedroscurls]

Title: Our Confession

@may85 requested: I gotta request Denny! He comes over to the readers house and finds her and her kid carving pumpkins. He realizes then that he's in love with the reader? I'm in a fall mood! 🍁🍁

Character(s): Denny Duquette and Reader Summary: Denny has a confession to make. Word Count: 2,109 Warning: Fluff!!! Author’s Note: THIS STORY GAVE ME ALL THE FEELS OK. Thank you, Jamie, for requesting this!!! I love love love writing for Denny, so thank you for sending this in! <3

(GIF Source: @jeffrey-daddy-morgan​)

“Are you still coming over to dinner?” You asked Denny, balancing the phone between your shoulder and ear while you stirred the noodles into the pot.

“You know I am,” he chuckled from behind the phone. “Are you going to cook pasta?”

“It is your favorite, and my daughter’s, so yes.”

“Perfect. I’ll see you both at seven.”

“I’ll see you then, Denny.”

After hanging up, your four-year-old daughter came strolling into the kitchen with her plush animal clutched underneath her arm. She walked towards you, resting her cheek against your leg as she sighed.

“Can I have a cookie, mommy?” she asked.

Smiling, you bent down to be at eye level with her. You leaned in to kiss her nose as your heart soared at the sound of her giggling. “What’s the magic word, princess?”

“Oh! Please, can I have a cookie?”

“Only one, okay?” you smiled, standing upright. “I don’t want you to spoil your dinner.”

“Is Denny going to be with us?” she asked, hoisting herself onto the chair of the dining table. She reached for a cookie on the plate, grabbing the biggest one and settled back into the seat.

“He is, Lilypot.”

Lily grinned excitedly. “Yay! He told me to wear a nice dress.”

“Oh, did he?”

“Mhm! Can you braid my hair afterwards?”

You let the noodles boil further before walking towards your daughter. You tucked the hair that had fallen in front of her face, behind her ear. “Yes, baby. I’ll braid your hair. Do you need help with the dress?”

“Nope! I’m a big girl. I can do it!” Lily kissed her mother’s cheek and climbed off the chair, running in the direction of the stairs. You heard her small footsteps ascend the stairs, finally calling out. “Hold onto the rail!”

“I am, mommy!”

Laughing to yourself, you walked back to the kitchen to continue cooking. Your mind drifted to the past few years and realized that Denny had been your ‘Savior.’ Your husband passed away just a few months after Lily was born, so when Denny showed up in your life, he had mended the brokenness you felt every day. He never stepped over any boundaries, and never insinuated that you were to get into a relationship with him. Instead, he was patient and had been there for you through many sleepless nights. In fact, there had been a few conversations you had to have with Lily when she accidentally called him ‘daddy’. It broke your heart, but you realized that you had fallen in love with him.

Denny had opened to you about his previous condition. At first, you were afraid that his condition would come back, but he reassured you many times that he was healthier now than he was before. Though, every time he mentioned that he had a date, you felt saddened by the news. You buried yourself in work and focused on Lily that you brushed aside your true feelings for Denny. You didn’t know if he felt the same way, but there was a subtle fear that had overcome your desire to tell him the truth.

As you finished cooking dinner, you set it on the counter of the island in the kitchen. You wanted to surprise him with pumpkins that you and Lily were going to carve together. It was a suggestion that you thought would be fun for Lily, but she had suggested instead to give it to Denny. It made you smile to know how much your daughter loved the other man.

Walking up the stairs, you peeked into your daughter’s room and noticed her trying to comb her hair. You laughed quietly and walked into your own bedroom. You had to take a quick shower before Denny showed up, so you started the water and stepped inside once you removed your clothes. It had been years since you had been intimately with a man, and Denny was the only one who you thought could be a potential partner. You assumed he was very attentive, making sure that his significant other was pleased before tending to his own.

You quickly shook your head, trying to rid your naughty thoughts about your best friend. Denny deserved better than you. Besides, having him as your best friend was better than not having him at all.

After your quick shower, you stepped out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around your frame. Lily was lying back on your bed, dressed in her pastel yellow floral dress that she picked out the last time you both went to the mall.

“Mommy!” she grinned, sitting up. “Do I look okay?”

“You look beautiful, Lilypot. Let me get dressed first and then I’ll fix your hair, all right?”

“Okay, mommy. Thank you.”

You walked into the closet and shut the door, changing into your undergarments. You looked through your clothing and picked out a pair of black jeans alongside an olive green, v-neck knit sweater. After changing, you stepped out of the closet and ran your towel through your wet locks as Lily’s legs were dangling off the edge of the bed impatiently.

“Finally,” she giggled.

You smiled, setting the towel onto the bed before picking her up into your arms, and tickling her sides.

“Mommy!” she giggled, trying to squirm away.

You set her down and kissed her forehead, looking into her innocent eyes. “I love you, Lily.”

“I love you too, mommy. Can you please braid my hair now?”

Smiling, you sat at the edge of the bed and pulled her onto your lap. You listened to her rave on and on about Denny as you pulled her hair back away from her face to do a classic French braid. Lily mentioned how much she loved Denny, and wished he was her father, but you reminded her that just because Denny wasn’t her father didn’t mean that he loved her any less. Surprisingly, she understood.

“All done, princess,” you smiled.

Lily scrambled off her lap and bed as she ran to the bathroom. She dragged the stepping stool in front of the mirror and stood on it, looking herself over.

“I love it!” Lily giggled. “Thank you, mommy.”

“No problem, honey. Now, before we eat, how about we carve some pumpkins?”

She widened her eyes in excitement. “Yes!” Lily ran out of the bathroom and took your hand, leading you out of the room and down the stairs.

“Sit in the living room for me, baby. I’ll bring the pumpkins out.”

Lily flashed you a thumbs up and ran quickly to sit on the couch, dangling her feet off the edge of it. You grabbed the medium sized pumpkin, as well as its tools, from the garage and walked back into the house. Lily’s grin broadened at the sight of the pumpkin. It may have been a bit small to you, but to her, it was bigger than her face.

“Whoa!”

You smiled, setting a cloth over the coffee table before placing the pumpkin atop of it. “All right, Lily. These tools aren’t meant as toys, okay?”

“Okay, mommy.”

“I’m trusting you with this, baby.”

“I know,” she leaned over and hugged you tightly. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Lilypot.”

After removing the insides of the pumpkin, you held the sharp tool in your hand and allowed Lily to hover her tiny hand over yours. You used your strength to pierce the pumpkin, but allowed Lily to create the design.

In the middle of the pumpkin carving, the doorbell rang and Lily grinned with excitement.

“Is that Denny?!”

“I think so.” You looked over to the door, hearing a series of knocks that only Denny had done. “Come in!”

Denny slowly opened the door. He was holding a small bouquet of roses that was meant for Lily, but the sight he was met with was something that had taken his breath away. He had enough time to think about you and Lily. He always wondered why the dates he had gone on never worked, but as he was watching you and Lily carve a pumpkin, he realized the reason behind it.

Denny was in love with you. Always had been.

“Denny!” Lily called, gently climbing off your lap to run towards him. You smiled, looking in his direction as you set the sharp tool onto the table.

“Hi, Lilybug! You look absolutely beautiful, honey. I brought you something, too.” Denny smiled, kneeling down to present her the small bouquet.

“Denny! I love them!” Lily wrapped her arms around his neck, sighing contentedly. “I love you.”

Denny smiled, picking her up and holding her in his arms. “I love you too, princess.”

“I’m wearing a dress like you said.”

“I know. Your mom showed me when you two bought it. You look so pretty.” Denny kissed her cheek, bringing her to the living room as Lily rested her cheek against his shoulder. “You’re not trying to impress any boys at daycare, right?”

Lily blushed, shaking her head. “No… Boys have cooties!”

“Make sure you remember that, sweetpea.” Denny chuckled, sitting down next you and placing the roses gently on the table near the pumpkin. “What? You two are carving pumpkins without me?”

Lily lifted her head off his shoulder and looked up at him, smiling. “It’s for you.”

“It is?” Denny arched a brow, looking down at Lily. “Well, it’s looking great. Is that a heart right there?”

Lily nodded. “Mommy helped.”

Denny looked over at you, gently nudging you with his shoulder. “Well, mommy did a great job.”

“Why thank you,” you smiled, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “Thanks for making it tonight.”

“You know I’d never miss your famous pasta.”

“Ooh, can we eat now? My tummy has a monster,” Lily giggled.

“I knew I was hearing something scary,” Denny laughed, poking her tummy. “Let’s go eat dinner.”

Lily was sitting at the dining table, patiently waiting for the food. Denny helped you bring the dishes from the kitchen to the dining room, placing it on the table. As you both walked back to the kitchen, Denny watched you carefully. He bit his lower lip and gently reached out to rest a hand on your lower back before you could bring the pitcher of water into the dining room.

“What’s wrong, Denny?” you asked, looking up at him.

He gently took the pitcher of water and set it on the counter. With his free hand, Denny cupped your cheek and leaned into press his lips against your own. You gasped unexpectedly, but succumbed to him instantly. Slowly, Denny moved his lips against your own. The hand on your lower back brought you closer to him, keeping you pressed against him.

As your lips moved with his, Lily entered the kitchen and gasped loudly. “Mommy! Denny!”

Denny blushed, pulling away slowly. “Sorry, Lilypot…”

You licked your lips, looking up at Denny for a moment before back at your daughter. “Go on and sit down at the table, baby. We’ll be right out.”

Lily giggled, looking up at Denny. “Does this mean you’ll be my daddy now, Denny?”

You bit your lower lip, taking a step forward to talk to Lily, but Denny beat you to it. He hoisted her up into his arms and kissed her temple, bringing her closer to you as well.

“I will be whatever you want me to be, Lilybug.”

“Even my dad?” she asked hesitantly.

Denny looked over at you and smiled, using his free arm to wrap around your waist. “I love you, Lily. And I love your mom too. Maybe one day—”

“This is the best day ever!” Lily interrupted, hugging him tightly.

You looked up at Denny. You weren’t expecting him to admit something as important like that so casually. Instead, you leaned on your toes to peck his lips, pulling back to run your fingertips across his cheek.

“I love you too, Denny.”

He sighed in relief, looking into your eyes. “Phew. I’m so glad.”

Lily lifted her head off Denny’s shoulder and smiled. “Can we eat now?”

Denny chuckled. “Yes, sorry, lovebug.”

“And then we can carve the pumpkin after?” Lily asked hopefully.

“Of course,” you replied, kissing her cheek.

“Let’s eat,” Denny said, leading you out of the kitchen and to the dining room.

You brought the pitcher of water to the dining table and watched Denny set Lily into her seat. He reached over to take your hand, kissing your cheek once he held your chair open for you to sit.

“I do love you,” Denny whispered.

“I know. I love you too,” you reassured, kissing his cheek.

Forever Taglist (let me know if you want to be removed!): @a-girl-interupted || @alyisdead || @ashzombie13 || @ask-kakashihatake || @asshatry || @chunex || @constellationsolo || @disfigured-it-out || @dixonsbait || @fiftypercentmoreintoyou || @fyeahashley88 || @harleysandbats || @hawtdiggitynegan || @heartfulloffandoms || @holyjeffreydeanmorgan || @hotfornegan || @i-am-negan-trash || @ibelongtonegan || @ididntasktogetmadedidi || @isayweallgetdrunk || @jane00doe || @jasoncrouse || @jeffreydeanneganstrash || @jenniegs || @k4veggies || @labyrinthofheartagrams || @ladyynegan || @laymetorest77 || @ledger-kaos || @magikat409 || @may85 || @meanandshallow || @multireality || @myheart4ever47 || @naughtyneganjdm || @negan--is--god || @oceanicseries || @purplemuse89 || @ridingmoxley || @sable-the-trans-ham || @scentofpineandhazelnutlattes || @see-you-then-winchester || @spn-cw123 || @sweetsweetpeach || @waddiwasi44 || @warriorqueen1991 || @zombeeemomeee 

[yurisdictional]

get to know me tag!!!

tagged by: @makkeuga thank u bae <3

Rules: Answer the 20 questions in a new post and tag 20 blogs you would like to get to know better.

Nickname: i mean,, @savey0uback calls me babycakes sometimes and @makkeuga gives me all kinds of nicknames and changes them sporadically AND some people call me jamie sometimes but idk i don’t rlly have a consistent nickname used by everyone unless “dissappointment” counts as a nickname

Gender: gender is a strange concept that doesn’t make sense but i go with male pronouns

Star Sign: gemini

Height: 170cm (i’ve grown!!!) 

Time right now: 7:52 pm

Last thing I googled: “misunderstood teen and mom stock photos” don’t ask

Favorite Bands: bts, got7, mamamoo, bigbang (i rlly like other ones as well but i wouldn’t consider them my favourite) 

Favorite Solo Artists: troye sivan, alessia cara, jon bellion

Song stuck in your head: im listening to music rn so “Tic Tic Tok” by got7 (what a bop) 

Last movie I watched: ok this is embarassing but it’s “50 shades of grey” i just wanted to see what it was like and i...really didn’t like it, it was v boring to me -50/10 do not recommend 

Last TV Show I watched: i watched the last ep of “weightlifting fairy kim bok joo” and i’m,,,in tears it was perfect and so beautiful (i highly recommend that show, it’s amazing and the scenery and colours are so pretty) 

When did you create your blog: i think in 2015 but i had tumblr since 2013 and i properly started talking to people and posting stuff like a year ago 

What kind of stuff do you post: mostly bts and got7 (i wanna start posting other bands though), aesthetic stuff, occasionally animals and textposts

When did your blog reach its peak: idk my blog isn’t big so idek if there’s a peak but i gained the most followers during the past year?

Do you have any other blogs: i have a really old and shit aesthetic blog that i haven’t used in ages, i should delete it

Do you get asks regularly: nooo like never

Why you chose your URL: bc guimauve means marshmallow in french and idk i like marshmallows and i suppose i am a bit like one idk and i replaced the “i” with a “j” bc..my name is james

Following: ~461

Posts: ~68705

Hogwarts House: slytherin!!!

Pokémon Team: mystic!!!

Favorite colours: white and pastel pink 

Average hours of sleep: during the night+throughout the day 7-10 hours maybe? i’m a sleepy guy

Lucky Numbers: 7 and 1234

Favorite Characters: harry potter, bucky barnes, miranda priestly, newt scamander, sherlock, professor x annddd i can’t think of any others 

What are you wearing right now: olive green short shorts under a totoro onesie whose sleeves i’ve tied around the stomach so i can wear it as pants, a danisnotonfire shirt and slippers! 

How many blankets do you sleep with: two, sometimes three

Dream job: actor, fashion magazine editor, writer i want to work as a project manager at a big company and travel the world :)

Dream trip: ok i just want to go to helsinki bc of @makkeuga but i’d really like to go to london, seoul, tokyo, hong kong and new york with him and i’d love to go to paris and berlin again and sigh i’d like to go anywhere really 

i’m breaking the rules and just tagging @savey0uback and @dansuga have fun guyz xoxo

[justforustravel-blog]

New Year's Resolutions That Would Make Your Life Better - #BelgradForest, #BicycleTraveler, #HealthyLife, #MilkGallery, #MuseumStores, #Nature, #NewYearS, #Organic, #OrganicLife, #Traveler, #UnlimitedSource, #Usa, #YogaClasses

New Post has been published on http://justforustravel.com/2017/10/10/new-years-resolutions-that-would-make-your-life-better/

New Year's Resolutions That Would Make Your Life Better

this year, unlike the others, add more to your life what would it be? I’ve been putting off, or not enough, this year, you say for sure I’ll do New Year’s resolutions do you have?

if you didn’t make New Year’s resolutions yet, we have provided a few suggestions to inspire you. As we enter the new year because of refreshing, that you’ve put off doing it, whatever it is, their decision is always good. We don’t even have to worry, we even made some decisions for you! Your permission ok, we won’t it’s up to you, of course, but some of these issues Add to our lives which cater to different tastes, I’m sure it will be good for all of us.

  more good food

if you are open to different experiences about food, also if you like to spend time in the kitchen in the new year we thought it might be good for you participation in the workshop various food. As you know, the topic of food is very popular in our country as in the whole world. Especially in recent years, we have a little Jamie Oliver cooking shows on television we are watching each. With this knowledge and some hints that there are many workshops that he established taclandirali from specialists will be taken. MSA will probably be the first that comes to mind. But other than that, Istanbul is Istanbul Culinary Institute Chefs, many alternatives exist, such as the USA. Here professional cooking, cake making, Italian, Chinese to international cuisine such as chocolate making, you can get training on many different subjects.

organic life

organic life is on everyone’s agenda lately. We believe that natural fruits and vegetables that we eat especially in the big cities unfortunately is out of the question, although not always, the ones doped at least in places that sell organic products village markets and it is possible to find. There are many channels on the internet where you can order this kind of product. So I think that is the right attitude but I always buy first hand from the manufacturer. Zeytinburnu Istanbul’s market every Saturday at Inebolu established, Bomonti’every Saturday, Kemerburgaz’s also established organic every Sunday Sunday, Kasimpasa’s every Sunday, established the market for organic products in Kastamonu some of the places where you can find many kinds at the same time. Grocery stores and shopping center our course in the New Year’s far from natural I think it’s time to turn to the village markets.

recycling

get out and walk when vintage fashion, second-hand clothes cause the idea of wearing a bit lost I’m afraid. But still, to look cool, even be willing to use used goods or clothes again, we have become a society that can finally.

of the term, like the clothes, 60s or 70s to create an air of something out of a movie character yourself if you love, now in Istanbul, many stores, accordingly there now. For example, in the tunnel Binbavul the Syrian Retro sty at By the fashion house conversion of some of them…

I think I prefer more stuff in the recycling. The old stuff in the house re-evaluation, or I take things by renewing them from antique shops and I like to use them for different purposes. If you think there is in the region to a flea market, Antique Mall or go to the horhor designers, and the market of Souq karaköy, you can follow activities such as second messengers.

more books

Unfortunately, we are a society without much in the habit of reading. I just do this when assigning the title of this will be fulfilled, but I wish I had faith. But I’m sure my writing will do justice to this between us bookworms.

for example, I’m interested in for the new year already and I pulled a list of topics I want to learn more. Then the authors on those topics, the books I checked. So in short, I made myself assignments for the New Year. You’re working so hard you guys but I don’t know if I will recommend a few places for you if you want to read more this year. My first suggestion in beyoğlu since I was a little girl my very favorite Aslihan second-hand bookstores. Often topping the tape there once, since we went too in my heart the location is great. Today when you go second hand you can find most of the books you’re looking for here.

salt beyoğlu also no longer in existence in fashion in recent times, publishers of the popular Robinson and 6:45 you can also shop Add to your route.

nature

we have left nature to take care of him lovingly bundle up, it’s our obligation. Flowers, gardening yesertebi if you love all that you find something in the soil, you can plant trees. Instead of being stuck indoors on the weekends, close to town Polonezköy, Belgrad forest, Riva, Anadolu kavağı therapy you can do yourself fresh air in places like. Especially on a morning run in the Belgrade forest is a wonderful way to eliminate the stress of business life. And, of course, if you are lucky enough to have a garden, you can grow your own fruit and vegetables.

Bike

Bicycle-friendly cafes, Bicycle traveler groups, sensitive attitude in this area the use of bikes in the city, some of the municipalities has increased gradually. I wish that more the number of municipalities, even though the bike lovers roaming the streets freely, if we call…

and, of course, bike-friendly cafes here will not pass without a mention of. Matchbox cyclists every tea cafe Kadikoy, Kadikoy, Four a 20% discount, expired in küçükçekmece drink he’s offering a cafe in beşiktaş restaurants uzunköprü adolescents with a 10% discount. Opportunities that encourage people to use bicycles and bicyclists in the new year we wish gradually increases. More activity and opportunity for the bicycle traveler, you can follow the group.

healthy life

a more healthy lifestyle is actually what we need most in life. Yoga classes, various running groups, pilates lessons, such as swimming a range of people who have this situation… but the important thing is to be able to make our way of life subject. For those who want to start yoga lately, announcing the name in fashion is often Nefess yoga, pilates, Pilates in Beyoglu I can recommend PSS.

  design

Design began to spread into many areas of our lives, since our lives didn’t become more colorful? Now I only design T-shirts we don’t wear, drinking our coffee in the cups from the bar on the idea, limited edition bags, we’re getting figures. Add more design to your life in the New Year where you can go to a few shops; a shop in Galata roller, Milk Gallery, in many places, in stores and bun ant Design, Museum stores, Kagithane, beymen blender stores and, of course, the unlimited source of the internet…

[isitgintimeyet]

Just A Friend

The response to this story has been lovely, so thank you all for reading. liking, reblogging and commenting on this piece of fluff. Hope you continue to enjoy.

Thanks to @wickedgoodbooks for the beta

AO3

Previous

Chapter 6: From Irritation to Interrogation

And just like that, we’re friends, Jamie and I. It’s strange how quickly you can go from strangers to acquaintances to friends. After that walk in the park, something seems to have clicked with us, there’s an ease in our friendship that doesn’t happen too often. Despite our vastly different upbringings, we have many things in common: a shared love of irreverent comedy, a fondness for very good quality chocolate and wine and a determination to succeed in our chosen careers.

Of course, it helps that we don’t have the whole fancying-sexual-tension-romantic thing lurking in the background. As I’ve said before, Jamie is not my type and, judging by the pictures on his Facebook timeline, I am definitely not his, which appears to be doe-eyed, tanned, petite blondes— their pneumatic breasts frequently struggling to break free from their restraints. No tall, wild-haired brunettes with only-slightly-above-average breasts usually firmly encased in sensible lingerie.

I may even invite him to Geillis’ wedding as my plus one. We’ll see. I don’t think I’ll be dating by then, I quite fancy a few months without any of those complications.

********

One of life’s pleasures, for me, when I’m not on-call, is to walk to the local newsagents on a Sunday morning for the newspaper. If it’s fine, it’s another opportunity to sit on my balcony and read it at my leisure. A mug of freshly brewed coffee and a cinnamon bun enhances this experience.

Today, it’s not so fine, but sitting on my sofa while listening to the rain pounding against the window is pretty good too. I’m just about to start the crossword when my phone rings. I quickly swallow my mouthful of bun and glance at the screen—private number. I offer up a silent prayer that it’s not the hospital as I answer it.

“Claire Beauchamp?” The female voice sounds familiar.

“Yes.” I answer cautiously.

“Jes’ a wee word of warning. Karma can be a bitch, ye ken.” The voice grows louder and angrier. I recognise that tone, last heard berating Jamie. “Ye’ll get what ye deserve. Ye canna trust James Fraser, but ye’ll find out soon enough—the hard way, like I did… thanks tae ye.”

“Look, I—“ I begin, but before I can finish my sentence, she’s gone.

My initial reaction is irritation. Laoghaire, no doubt looking around for someone to blame for her recent break up, has cast me in the role of home wrecker, clearly using my carefully honed feminine wiles to lure Mr. Fraser from her clutches. Like Frank, she can’t quite believe that anyone could break up with her, without there being another waiting in the wings, ready and willing to take her place.

My irritation dissipates as I begin to see the funny side of this. She’s obviously thought long and hard about this—checking his Facebook friends, keeping records of his phone calls when they were together. Perhaps she sees herself as Jennifer Aniston against my Angelina. I hope Jamie can see this for what it is and laugh. Besides, in this scenario, that makes Jamie what? Brad Pitt?

*****************

Two days later, Jamie and I have arranged to have a quick drink after work in a mutually convenient bar. Summer has not yet returned to the city. Whilst not actually raining, the air is damp and there’s a definite nip in the air. I do a cursory check of the outdoor seating, just to see whether Jamie is heroically braving the elements, but there’s no sign of him.

I make my way into the bar and have a quick walk around before snagging a corner table. The seats are comfortable and it’s in a prime position for me to keep an eye out for his arrival. This bar has always been one of my favourites in the city. It feels grounded, like it’s been here forever. The stone walls and dark oak beams are unchanging and watching the inebriated trying to negotiate the uneven wooden floor on their way to the toilets always makes for good entertainment. In fact, people come from miles around to marvel at its very crookedness.

I check my phone for any messages. There’s one from Geillis, accepting my invitation for girls’ night on Friday at my flat. I reply and put the phone down just in time to see Jamie heading toward me. He’s obviously come straight from work as he’s still in his navy blue suit and white shirt. I’ve come straight from work too but am not nearly so smartly dressed. Having worn my blue scrubs all day, I’m now clad in jeans and a wrap around top which used to be orange, but has faded to a light amber colour. I feel somewhat underdressed next to him.

“Drink?” He asks, before even sitting down.

I nod. “I’m parched. Think I’ll have a shandy, please.”

“Lager shandy? Half pint?”

“Bitter,” I clarify, not being a great believer in girlie drinks. “And pint.”

He returns a couple of minutes later with a pint and a packet of crisps in each hand.

He takes a huge slug of beer. “Sae, what do ye ken? What’s new wi’ ye?”

And so, I recount my day of surgery to him. And, bless him, he looks interested all the way through my narration. He does turn a bit pale as I begin to explain my use of the bone mallet and chisel, and his crisps remain untouched, but he soldiers through.

“In other news,” I change the subject as his colour returns and he rips the crisps open. “I had an anonymous phone call from your ex, warning me about you and blaming me for your break up. But, never fear, I’ll get what’s coming to me when you do the same to me—“

A bout of coughing from Jamie breaks into my conversation.  I get up and thump his back a couple of times. The coughing stops as he takes a swig of beer.

“Sorry,” he clears his throat and continues. “Crisp stuck in ma throat. She did what? How does she ken who ye are?”

“Presumably she kept a record of your phone calls and is monitoring your Facebook friends. Maybe you need to check your phone, see if she’s set up any other little apps so she can track where you are or what you’re doing.”

He shakes his head. “Aye, I’ll do that. I canna believe she would go tae such lengths. Although…” he pauses for a moment. “... mebbe I can. She was always the, er, suspicious type—asking me about women at work, convinced they were ready tae pounce on me. Perhaps I’m not the best judge of character, Claire. Ye need tae advise me.”

I laugh. “Ok. I’ll be your wingman, if you like. Or vet all your potential girlfriends. How about that?”

Jamie joins in with the laughter. His eyes twinkle and it’s funny the way he wrinkles his nose as he laughs.

“How about you? How’re the Spanish influenced dinners going? What are you up to?” I ask him.

“The plans are going grand. We’ve three dinner options planned out.” As usual, his face lights up as he explains the various menus to me.

“They all sound delicious. I’m looking forward to trying them.” And that's the truth.

“Weel, funny ye should mention that. We are looking fer people willing tae test them. How about it? Fancy trying one out? This week, mebbe? Free, of course.”

My weekend plans are getting better and better. Girls’ night at my flat could be turning into a bit of a Spanish fiesta, a mini replay of our Barcelona trip.

“I’d love that. Thanks. I’m having Geillis, Mary and Anna ‘round on Friday for a catch up. I could give you their opinion on the meal too.”

Jamie types something into his phone. “Great, I’ll sort it. So, good weekend plans then?”

“Oh yes, what about you?”

“Oh, I’ve got a sort of date type thing,” he mumbles into his pint and, to my surprise he goes a little bit red. Is he worried about telling me? Does he think that I will mind?

“That’s nice...isn’t it?”

“I dinna ken, really. I… I suppose so. It’s ma sister, Jenny’s, idea.  A friend of hers from university. Ma sister canna quite believe that I’m no’ yet married and she keeps trying tae make it happen. And Jenny, weel, let’s jes’ say that she’s a force of nature. Ye dinna want tae mess wi’ her.”

***************

I’m not exactly the most gifted cook, but I think it would be hard to go wrong with the box of food and wine that Jamie has delivered. The asparagus is waiting to be cooked, the mouth-watering smell from the simmering  chicken and chorizo fills my flat and bowls of juicy Spanish olives— some plain and some with garlic and chilli are dotted about the dinner table. Feeling inspired, I root out a large jug and begin to cut up fruit for sangria.

Like alcohol-seeking missiles, I’ve no sooner prepared the sangria when the doorbell rings. With many hugs, Geillis, Mary, Anna and I greet each other. I accept their gifts of wine, chocolate and flowers as we head into the flat.

As usual, everyone gravitates to the kitchen as I pass the drinks around, complimenting me on the wonderful aromas. Geillis’ stomach rumbles in eager anticipation.

When the four of us are together, the conversation flows as freely as the wine. Honestly, you would swear that we had not seen each other for months, when, in fact, I saw Anna on Tuesday in theatre, and squeezed in a coffee catch-up with Mary and Geillis only two days ago. The topics we cover are wide-ranging and random. Sangria and olives are accompanied by Anna’s search for a new flat, then the conversation turns to the destructive tendencies of Mary’s kitten as I serve the asparagus and Serrano ham starter.

For the main course, we have the tale of Geillis’ father refusing to wear a kilt for her wedding—he is prepared to don tartan trews but, according to Geillis, that will spoil the whole symmetry of the wedding photos. Neither, at the moment, seem willing to back down but, having known Geillis for so many years, it’s obvious to me who will win.

By the time I bring out the selection of Spanish biscuits and turrón, the conversation has moved on to men, more specifically Mary’s crush on a locum doctor newly arrived in the department. There’s a lot of good natured teasing about this—Mary seems to develop a new crush every couple of weeks, and why not?

Geillis drains her wine and turns to me. “Fantastic meal, Claire. Better than yer usual offerings.”

She pulls me close to her as she says this, and squeezes my arm to show she’s joking.

“Well, I have to confess. I did have a bit of assistance. I mean, I did the cooking, apart from the cookies, but everything came from FraserFood.”

“In that case, give me those chocolates back. I’m no’ sure ye’ve earned them.”

“But I have,” I moan. “I did all the cooking…and made sangria.” I reach across Geillis and help myself to another biscuit. They are melt-in-the-mouth delicious.

“It’s part of a new range they’re launching,” I try to explain as Anna and Mary start to squabble over the last biscuit. “Three course dinner party boxes. Everything you need. Jamie asked if I would test one of them out—“

Immediately Anna and Mary shut up, the last biscuit now abandoned on the plate.

“Woo-hoo,” Anna grins at me.

Geillis nudges me in the ribs. “Jamie, is it? And what else has Jamie given ye, eh?”

“Nothing, we’re friends, that’s it.”

“But we’ve seen pictures of him. Don’t ye want there tae be more tae it? I mean, c’mon look at him.” Now Mary joins in the questioning.

I sigh. “We can just be friends, you know.”

“Friends with benefits, mebbe?” Geillis isn’t giving up.

“No, just friends. Although…” my friends lean forward expectantly, perhaps awaiting some heartfelt confession from me, as if I’d suddenly realised my undying love, or, at least, a good bit of lust for Mr. Fraser. They’re going to be disappointed.

“...Although, I suppose you could say this free food and drink is a benefit. So,yes, I guess that makes us friends with benefits.”

Anna and Geillis look as if they don’t believe me, but say nothing. Mary isn’t prepared to drop the subject.

“So,” she starts. “So, suppose I meet yer—“

“Not mine,” I mutter under my breath.

Mary shrugs her shoulders and continues, “—yer Jamie Fraser. And suppose he asks me out and one thing leads tae another… ye’re telling us that ye wouldna mind?”

“No, I wouldn’t mind. Might be a bit awkward if you break up. I mean, can I still be friends with both of you?”

Geillis, laughing, joins in now. “Suppose our Mary marries Jamie Fraser and asks ye tae be a bridesmaid. Would ye mind then?”

I pretend to give this some thought. “Ah, now that does depend. Just how awful will the bridesmaid dress be, Mary?”

“Och, just hideous. We’ll be having a Disney themed wedding.”

All talking and laughing at once, we try to decide which would be the worst Disney outfit for a bridesmaid and finally settle on Moana.

I get up from the table to go and make coffee, but not before making one final statement on the whole platonic situation with Jamie.

“Look, I know it’s hard to believe, but I have no romantic interest in Jamie and neither does he. In fact, he told me that he’s got a date this weekend and that’s totally fine with me.”

Geillis grabs my hand in passing. “Ok, as long as ye’re fine. We jes’ dinna want ye getting hurt, Claire. We love ye too much fer that.”

I smile at my closest friends gathered around my table and feel a rush of warmth and love for them too. They’re my family, these girls, and, for all the joking and teasing, they have my best interests at heart.

“I know. Thank you for looking out for me. But, Jamie and I are friends, nothing more.”

And with that I head into the kitchen, giving Anna, Mary and Geillis, no doubt, the opportunity to continue to speculate about Jamie’s and my friendship. But really I don’t mind, they’ll get fed up soon enough when they see I’ve been telling the truth all along.

[sablelab]

Covert Operations - Chapter 36

DISCLAIMER: This is a modern AU crossover story with Outlander and La Femme Nikita. LFN and its characters do not belong to me nor do those from Outlander.

SYNOPSIS:  James Fraser and his team are sent to Shanghai to procure their next target ... Oliver Chan. Geillis Duncan is used to lure him into their clutches at the Casino while Jamie and his team provide back up.  Once back at Section One, Chan will know what it is like to be frightened ... really frightened.  Madeline always finds a way of making people talk and his visit to the White Room will provide some interesting Intel.

Contains some violence.

THANK YOU for your support of my story and for reading each week.  I really appreciate your validation of my writing. Much appreciated.  Previous chapters can be found ...

https://sablelab.tumblr.com/covertoperations

   CHAPTER 36 (V)

The Golden Palace Casino was bustling tonight as Chinese media moguls, models, and stylish foreigners slipped through the foyer that led to the gaming tables and secluded private rooms set aside for the high roller clientele. The main floor was packed with patrons both gambling and observing the interplay going on at the gaming tables. The bulk of the gamblers were pitting their hopes on the red or black of the Roulette wheel while the Crap, Blackjack and Poker tables were thick with milling patrons trying to beat the house. The sounds of poker machines ringing with the fall of winning coins echoed above the voices of cheering, when a lucky gambler made a killing on the roll of the dice or the fall of the ball on the right numbers. James Fraser and his team were positioned throughout the casino observing the patrons from a distance and waiting for confirmation that the target was indeed there tonight. Ever vigilant Jamie’s eyes surveyed the surrounds watching and waiting for the familiar face of Oliver Chan. Strutting slowly across the carpeted floor of the opulent gaming room, he nodded to the operatives on mark. “We’re in position,” he reported back to Section One as Fergus Claudel readied the in play scenario to find Oliver Chan. “All right. Give me a good base. Second team, advance to mark,” he instructed. “Geillis we’re ready for you.” Geillis Duncan entered the room dressed in a slinky red dress that turned many an eye. Some of the gamblers and onlookers assembled at the various tables were momentarily distracted and openly admired the stunning beauty walking past. However, without giving any acknowledgement whatsoever, Geillis continued across the floor to the target’s location with a confident gait. “I’m inside, where is he fergus?” she asked. “Mirrored door, at the back.” Approaching the secured room Geillis spoke to the guard on the door. “Hi. Is Mr. Chan here?” “Could I see you identification pass?” She handed it to him and after giving her the once over he handed it back to her again. “Thanks.” Stepping to one side he let her pass into a room. On entering Geillis, noticed a secluded area where high rollers were assembled at the gambling table playing poker. Slick black glass panelling, muted lighting and leather couches were also placed around the room. This was an area where wealthy clients could enjoy a drink and watch the proceedings in the high rollers’ room from a discreet distance. Spotting Oliver Chan sitting with two blonde, attractive Caucasian women on each arm, she move toward him while at the same time alerting him to her approach. “Mr. Chan? Mr. Chan?” Looking up Oliver Chan turned his head towards the striking beauty who was calling his name. His heart skipped a beat as he glanced at the most exquisite woman he had seen since Claire at the airport all those months ago. Dressed in a figure hugging cheongsam, he watched the sway of her hips as she sashayed towards his private area. Her shinning, long scarlet hair framed her petite face delicately made up to accentuate her piercing eyes. Oliver Chan could not disengage his eyes from the ruby lips that were mouthing his name.

Thoughts of another conquest for Madame Cheung coursed through his mind momentarily, before deciding that better still; he would keep this one for himself.  The closer she got the more he began to salivate at the possibilities of acquiring this woman for his own pleasure. Without taking his eyes from the operative’s approach and having quickly lost interest in the two women on his either side, Chan ordered, “Beat it.” 

Begrudgingly the two women slid off the couch, as the woman ... their competition ... came closer. Realising that there was no point in remaining in a futile situation, they picked up their champagne glasses and beat a hasty retreat to look for more amenable company.

“Hi. Hello,” Geillis murmured in a very suggestive voice.

Practically drooling at the beautiful woman who stood before him, Oliver Chan cleared his throat before replying, “Who are you? “I’m Geillis.” For one moment he thought he had seen this woman before as she did look a little familiar to him. But how could that be? Mentally shaking his head at his random niggling reflection, Oliver quickly dismissed those thoughts to the back of his mind. The adage of “once seen never forgotten” could not be dismissed from his mind but on the other hand, he also couldn’t reconcile his thoughts with the vision before his very eyes. Surely if he had seen her before, he would certainly not have forgotten her. “Well then ... This must be my lucky day Geillis.” “Yes, I will be your good luck charm Mr Chan” Geillis replied baiting him with her charm and irresistible smile. Completely taken in by her allure Oliver replied, “Come sit down, I’ll order you a drink. What would you like?” “Surprise me,” she purred provocatively moving forward and sitting next to him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Monitoring Geillis Duncan’s actions back at Section One and her contact with the target, Fergus alerted the team leader.

“OK Jamie, you’re clear to move up.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Oliver Chan was practically salivating at the mouth at Geillis Duncan’s reply and when he felt her slide over closer to him, his libido began to kick in with a vengeance as libidinous thoughts ran away with him. Immediately she began to lure the target into a false sense of her intentions as Geillis began to casually fondle him lightly running her hand over his thigh before applying a slight pressure near his groin. Capturing her eyes, Oliver Chan was unable to sever his gaze. With an alluring smile, she grinned at him as she moved her hand closer and closer to his throbbing groin. He let out an audible gasp as her fingers intimately touched him. Stirring at the erotic touch of her attention, Chan leaned back in the couch, eyes closed. Losing all coherent thoughts he lapped up the sensation of what this woman was doing to him. Completely letting his guard down, Oliver could only think of getting Geillis to his room as quickly as possible and getting horizontal with her in a more private setting. However, before he could rationalise his rambling feelings and his body’s reactions to this woman sensuous touch, Oliver Chan felt the cold steel of a gun digging into his groin.

Caught completely unawares his surprised eyes darted sideways at the woman who moments ago was fondling his genitals.  “Who are you?” He managed to voice as he very quickly came back to earth with a thud.

Even her voice had changed from the alluring siren to a more cold, no nonsense demeanour as Geillis ignored his question and instead stated, “You are an associate of Madame Cheung and Sun Yee Lok.” “What?” Oliver Chan feigned his shock at her correct statement while at the same time trying to figure out what exactly had just happened. Leaning over, nose to nose with him and pointing the gun at his head, Geillis replied succinctly, “I want information about them.” Having the presence of mind he activated a secret button under the table that alerted main security that he needed some assistance.  “Look, I don’t know where you’re coming from and I don’t care. You’re already dead.” Chan replied bombastically knowing that Security would soon be here.

“Not as dead as you will be if you don’t give me the information I want.” Looking Chan directly in the eye, Geillis then spoke to Fergus back at Section, “Do we really need this guy? “Unfortunately ... yes we do.” “Pity.” Geillis nevertheless pistol whipped Chan to press home her point “I haven’t got all day Mr Chan. You have two choices; you can come quietly or not.” “You’ll regret this ... I assure you.” Chan replied as several burly security men gathered near the room. “Geillis, you’ve got incoming hostiles,” he warned. It was obvious that the situation had escalated now that Security was descending on the cul-de-sac positioning of their location in the Casino and realising that she may be somewhat trapped asked for a possible egress point.

“Can you back me out? I’ve nearly convinced Mr Chan of his options.”

“No. You’re going to have to go through them.” Suddenly another operative’s voice replied into her communication unit. “I’ll cover you,” interjected Rupert Mackenzie. “No, Mac. I need you at the front to prepare egress.” “Send Wakefield. I’m getting Geillis.” Rupert Mackenzie replied back to Fergus. “Mackenzie, what are you doing?” James Fraser’s voice interjected. “Geillis can handle herself, but I’ll provide backup for her,” Jamie responded succinctly to Mackenzie while at the same time dismissing Fergus’ concerned ramblings. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ Hearing a gun click behind her, Geillis Duncan whirled around and shot one of the security team in the chest before he had a chance to fire his weapon. As he fell to the ground, more men came running towards her from all directions, their weapons poised for retaliation. “There she is ... get her!” The screams of the women and patrons echoed around the private room as several heavily built security personnel came rushing in to assist Oliver Chan. The sound of gunshots ricocheted too as they opened fire, while patrons dropped to the floor trying to find cover from the flying bullets. Geillis ducked behind the leather couch while Oliver Chan slid under the table away from the rapid and repeated bullet fire. Security fired at her. She shot back. Rising to have a look and keeping her target in sight, Geillis then blasted away at the assailants. As each shot left her weapon, she bobbed behind cover to regain momentum. A wayward bullet lodged in the leather couch just near her head. Quickly she rose once more to shoot at her would be assassins with a flurry of bullets. Geillis took several of them down with accurate precision and aim as her bullets hit the targets and by the time Jamie had arrived, she had the situation well in hand. “Come on, let's get out of here,” he whispered just before orders to the same effect were relayed from Fergus through their comm. units. “Get to your exit point ASAP ... there are more hostiles approaching.” Oliver Chan was cowering on the floor when he felt a strong hand drag him up by the scruff of his neck from his hiding place. Looking into the eyes of a menacing man, Chan was pulled up until standing and ushered to a back entrance of the room as the members of Jamie’s team provided cover for their escape. Speaking into his comm. set Jamie relayed back to Section. “Team One has possession. Target is en route.” “Good ... got it. Bring him in.” ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

On returning back to Section One after the Shanghai mission, James Fraser preceded his team and walked into Van Access first followed by Geillis Duncan.  There stoically waiting for them in the hallway was Operations and Madeline. Stopping in front of Section One’s leaders, Jamie waited for his superior to address him as to the success of the mission.

“You have the target?”

“Yes.”

At his reply Operations and Madeline glanced toward the exit door. They saw Rupert Mackenzie and Roger Wakefield come through Van Access with Oliver Chan in tow wearing a black hood over his face.  As the two operatives neared where Operations was standing they stopped and Rupert pulled off the hood.

“You can't keep me here, old man ...  I know people.” Chan spat out as he defiantly looked at Operations.

Ignoring his angry remarks Dougal Mackenzie merely declared. “Take him to Containment.”

“Do you want him interrogated?” Jamie asked for further clarification, knowing that he would be monitoring that interview and if needs be oversee the interrogation himself.

“Yes, but let him spend some time with Madeline first.”

Operations then cast his glance towards Geillis Duncan. “Well done. The mission was a success.”

“Thank you, sir. There wasn’t that much resistance once Chan realised what his options were,” she replied looking her superior in the eye.

He gave her a wry smile at her answer.  Madeline too, held back a smile knowing that Geillis Duncan had performed well on this mission. The girl definitely had potential. However, the anomaly with Rupert Mackenzie’s behaviour was another matter she would need to address with she debriefed with her.  

As if reading her thoughts Geillis asked, “You want me to debrief?”

“Yes, my office. Twenty minutes,” Madeline responded giving nothing away as to her mindset knowing that Geillis Duncan would believe this to be a normal procedure.

“Yes ma’am.”

Followed by Madeline on his heels, Operations turned to walk towards his office, but he looked back at Jamie and stipulated, “I’ll expect your debrief on my desk within the hour.”

“Of course.”

The Section leaders then briskly walked away from Van Access.  When they had disappeared from sight, Jamie nodded to Geillis while the remaining team members filed past heading to Munitions to return their weapons. Once all team members had filed past, James Fraser turned and headed towards his office.

 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

As Rupert Mackenzie and Roger Wakefield headed round the corner towards Containment, Oliver Chan seized his moment and made a move to escape.  Punching Mackenzie with his shoulder Chan caught him off balance and he stumbled backwards. Ducking and shaking his head he managed to dislodge the hood over his face, it fell off and he was able to see.  While Rupert was trying to gain his equilibrium, Oliver head butted the other operative in order to cause a diversion so that he could escape from the two men guarding him. Roger Wakefield fell to the ground as the unexpected assault caught him off kilter as well.  

Eventually regaining his balance, Rupert was able to prevent the target’s getaway by quickly kicking him in the leg. It buckled beneath him as Oliver Chan lost his balance too, enabling Mackenzie to get back the momentum by pushing him forcibly up against the wall.  Meanwhile Roger Wakefield rose to his feet and trained his gun on him.  Feeling the cold metal pressed into his temple, Chan realised the futility of his actions and he reluctantly complied knowing the any escape from this place was hopeless.  

Flanked by the two Section operatives, Oliver Chan finally continued on to his incarceration ... and an uncertain outlook.

 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Geillis Duncan entered Madeline’s office a short while later in order to debrief on the Shanghai mission and Oliver Chan’s capture.  She knew that there would be questions to be asked especially with Rupert Mackenzie’s behaviour.  If it hadn’t been for Jamie’s intervention, he would surely face the consequences ... perhaps even be placed in abeyance for showing his emotions.  Madeline did not tolerate any form of weakness and Rupert had nearly broken mark. There would be reprisals for him, of that she was certain.  Hearing Madeline talking on the phone, she waited quietly for affirmation of her presence.

“Has level eight analysed Chernov's files? Good.”  

Knowing who had entered her office Madeline concluded the call, and without looking up she addressed Geillis. “Come in. I’ve been expecting you.”

“Madeline,” she replied as she saw her superior gesture for her to take a seat.

“Sit down ... You did well.”

“Thank you.”

Finally Madeline looked at her with eyes that seemed sincere but there was no telling what she was really thinking for she hid her emotions well. Section One’s second in command was hard to read and any expressions on her face were clandestine at the best.  Operatives never knew what her thoughts were and Geillis was flummoxed by the warm smile that appeared on Madeline’s lips.

“Operations and I are impressed with your handling of the situation in Shanghai.  You are under consideration for a promotion to Level 3.”

“Thank you.”  

“Yes ... We have been watching you closely on the Rising Dragons missions thus far and think you may be most useful in the future.”  

However, after this initial praise, Madeline’s tone of voice suddenly changed. It became more reproaching and accusing. Looking Geillis in the eye she continued addressing her. “Nevertheless, there are some concerns. Do you understand what just happened on your mission?”

“It was a contained dispersion. There was an incident at the second mark.”

“How many times do you think Rupert Mackenzie can break position before a team is in jeopardy?”

“I didn't ask for his help. Why don't you talk to Mackenzie?”

Without mincing words, Madeline continued. “You two will extricate the personal component from your relationship.”

“There is no personal component of our relationship ... it doesn't exist.” Gellis Duncan replied with steely nerves.

“Mackenzie will be placed in abeyance if the relationship continues,” Madeline remarked, ignoring Geillis’ response.

“You're talking to the wrong person.  It is strictly one sided, I assure you.”

Madeline was dogged in her retort and would tolerate no recourse other than the one she proposed. “If Mackenzie isn't letting go, you will have to make him.”

“And how do I do that?”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something. That'll be all.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sometime later after the debriefings, Oliver Chan was dragged down the hall from Containment into the White Room by Rupert Mackenzie and Roger Wakefield. They passed by Madeline who was standing in the hallway watching and waiting for his appearance in the interrogation room. Chan, however, was putting up resistance and was struggling against his escorts.  At the sight of his superior, the hair on the back of his neck rose, as Mackenzie felt Madeline’s eyes boring into him as they led the target into the White Room. Once they had strapped him into the metal chair, they left. Rupert avoided any eye contact with Madeline as he closed the door behind him.

Approaching the White Room for Chan’s interrogation, Madeline entered the room as the heavy door creaked open once again. With soft footfalls she neared the chair where the target sat ... shackled by his hands and feet.  

He looked up.

“Hello, Mr. Chan.  I trust we will have your full cooperation while you’re here with us.”

He smiled but gave no answer.

“My apologies for disrupting your evening.”

“It could not be avoided, I’m sure,” he replied flippantly.

Advancing slowly toward the chair Madeline continued. “We’re not unaware of your importance or the privileges you have been enjoying of late by your association with the Rising Dragons.”

“That must explain the extraordinary lengths you’ve gone to, to make me feel at home.  But you’re misinformed; I have nothing to do with the Rising Dragons.”

“Mr. Chan, tell me about your relationship with Madame Cheung.”

“I don't know who she is.”

“You work for the Rising Dragons. You were personally responsible for procuring women for Madame Cheung and you were Alain de Marillac’s go between.”

“What? ... What are you talking about?”

“Mr Chan, you do business with a known terrorist and murderer, Sun Yee Lok.”

Staring at her and giving nothing away, he replied, “Who’s that?”  

“Come, come Mr Chan ... we know of your connections ... We want to know why you were in Shanghai and where we can locate Sun Yee Lok.”

“I can’t help you.”

“You can.  And you will.”

Oliver Chan’s refusal to answer her questions irked Madeline. Walking to the door she opened it gesturing to the two people waiting outside in the corridor for their instructions.  Section One’s Torture Twins entered, wheeling their gold cases on a cart.  Acknowledging them with a slight nod in their direction, Madeline left the White Room, closing the door behind her.  The female operative opened the case, while maintaining eye contact with Chan at all times.  

It was obvious to Oliver that this was a woman who enjoyed her job.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When Madeline returned a short while later, Oliver Chan looked less like the self-confident man he had been previously. The torture experts stood on either side of the chair as Madeline surveyed their handiwork.  

“Are you ready to co-operate now Mr Chan?” She asked in a measured tone of voice.

Oliver looked up with defiance and glared at Madeline. Bearing the telltale slits beneath his eyes, he was not yet a broken man.

She ignored his futile rebelliousness and turning to speak to Elizabeth, Madeline inquired, “Did you saturate?”

“Any more and it would have killed him.”

Madeline calmly observed Chan and consciously compared him to Tony Wong. Oliver Chan was definitely showing signs of having more backbone and Madeline understood why Sun Yee Lok had been impressed by his fortitude. “You’re a very strong man, Mr. Chan.”  

Seeing the resistance in his eyes, Madeline’s gaze followed the throb of his neck pulse and noticed something. “What’s that on your neck?” 

Addressing one of the Torture experts, she ordered. “Remove his shirt.”

Taking her scissors Elizabeth began cutting Chan’s black T-shirt, beginning at the arm and travelling upward to the neckline.  The material fell apart, revealing his neck and chest.  A large scar was exposed at the bottom of his neck running downward. 

Madeline moved the material aside, her eyes honed in on the indentation and she lightly passed a finger over the scar. “A burn scar.  From the coloration, it appears to have happened when you were very young.”

Having gained Chan’s attention, Madeline watched as his eyes flickered in remembrance.

“Your meeting with Mr. Sun Yee Lok.  Where and when?”

Oliver Chan glanced away, indicating that he would not spill the information. 

Madeline looked towards the Torture Two briefly, before turning to leave again.  As she turned, she said, “Butane torch.”

Before she’d reached the door to exit, Chan cried out in panic, “No! Please!”

Turning back to him, Madeline knew that he was now ready to talk and give her the information she requested.  

  *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ to be continued

[dapperfvck-arc]

🔥 rip DC a new one for me. Blows kiss.

Send me 🔥 for an unpopular opinion

Gonna be honest, I haven’t been paying much mind to DC since they dared to hand my son over to the hands of Bri*n Azzer*llo again. Not to mention in a Batman title. Honestly. Idek man, they been doing themselves dirty for awhile now and kinda been reminding me of well -- Myself. I tend to second guess myself a lot when it comes to content and I feel like MCU being the inescapable superhero Zeitgeist now scared the shit of them like, I think DC got comfy on their throne and being toppled from it with characters/franchises people didn’t really care about before the movies (Gotg, Thor, for example) was a real wake up call. I think they took a lot of risks that didn’t pay off, at least not to the degree they’d hoped. 

Anyway, i tried you know, to keep the hope alive that they wouldn’t keep doing John dirty in the comics and other media. At this point I’m just praying for DC to throw a bunch of money at hmmm...Andy Diggle maybe or Mike Carey to write another series for Vetigo or whatever. I just...I don’t really think most writers at DC have much to go on when it comes to John aside from crib notes like “demonologist, asshole, magician, english, bisexual...I guess but like mostly write him with women, ok? “ There’s no respect to his canon from the Vertigo series and no trace of whatever remains of his family. Simon Oliver’s opening story arc of the reboot for DC was...it was fine, I just wish he’d not put so much effort into aping Jamie Delano, but idek what do I know? He wrote a Chas centric mini series back in the day that I’ve yet to read because I’m lazy. Maybe he just has an eerily similar writing style and tone. 

Meh, I’m sure they’ll find their way back eventually, I’m just not real keen on DC these days.