#National Glass Centre
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too-deviant · 9 months ago
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ray bans.
with…ART DONALDSON!
contains…fem!reader, 18+ CONTENT!, handjob, p in v, public sex, this was written b4 the movie came out so excuse any discrepancies!
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You blame the tequila.
Strong and sharp in your glass at the tennis luncheon your boss had invited you to, swishing around with every movement you made as you told an overexaggerated story to Art Donaldson. He didn’t pay a lot of attention, you could tell, but his eyes were so firm on yours that you needed to talk to get the nerves out. 
It was the tequila, not his eyes, that got you cornered in a bathroom too fancy to be anywhere but this cushy hotel, legs pushed back so far you felt a burn in the crease of your groin. Those dusty blonde curls buried between your thighs, perfectly calloused hands holding them apart so he could lap at you with perfect fervour. 
Your eyes were watering, and he gazed at you as you came down, rubbing up and down your legs until you were ready to push yourself down and onto your feet. You wiped the runoff mascara as best you could, but huffed at the stains around your eyes.
Art had grinned, slid his sunglasses from his collar and placed them perfectly over your eyes. You’d asked him when he wanted them back, and he’d just smirked. 
Which was how you found yourself scooting past old people in linen suits and straw hats, expensive bags and designer shades on their noses. Yours weren’t designer, but they were Art Donaldson’s, so you won. 
In this life you took your seat in the rows at the USTA Billie Jean King National Tennis Centre — a doozy of a sentence to tell your Uber driver. In this life you slid Art Donaldson’s sunglasses over your eyes and waited patiently for him to sidle onto the court, slam himself a win, and meet you in the bar to take them back. 
His hits were precise, hard, fast. The muscles in his arms and neck pulled beautifully. You pulled the plush of your lip between your teeth, letting it go when he hit another, his grunt louder to you know. Clearer. 
But as your eyes pivoted back and forth across the court, his opponents moves much more confident and fluid than his, the life changed. Now this life was a tense strain in your neck, your fingers tight around the dress you wore just for today. In this life, Art Donaldson lost, and when everyone else was cheering for the winner, you were watching him storm away. 
It was quicker to manoeuvre through the crowds now that everyone else was leaving. You didn’t have to worry about bumping into people, because they were all bumping into you and there was a collective agreement that any and all shoulder shoving slash toe-stepping was okay for now. So you slid your way through, sidestepping through the rows of seats and going down a row every time you got to some stairs — ensuring that it wasn’t completely obvious where you were going. 
You made awkward eye contact with the ball boy but your confident smile put him at ease and he dismissed you completely, allowing you to slip around the back of the stands and into the locker room. 
It was much quieter in there, the noise of the crowd fading into nothing when the door closed behind you. Now you could focus on your surroundings, the sound of water dripping and heavy breaths. 
You parted your lips gently, “Art?”
Footsteps, and then the blonde man was rounding a row of lockers and meeting your sly gaze. His own was shrouded in barely covered anger and light confusion, the latter crowing over a bit more when you took steps to invade his personal space. 
“You came.” 
“Well…” You shrugged, lifting the glasses off your head and tucking them into the collar of his polo. Letting your hand linger on the planes of his collarbones, feeling the heat radiating from the skin beneath the cotton. “That was quite some game.” 
Art huffed, “I was in walkabout. Shit luck.” 
You leaned ever so slightly closer, running your hand down his chest to just above the waistband of his shorts. You admired the way he looked under the lights — the beads of sweat on his jugular, the happy trail you could feel peek out from under the hem of the shirt. Your other hand stayed propped against the locker, and he was quick to run his own down your wrist, cupping your elbow. 
“Well…I say we pick up where we left off, no? That make you feel better?”
You narrowed your brows at him in a silent question. His minute nod was enough. Then your hand was sliding beneath his waistband, dipping into his underwear — Tommy Hilfiger — and wrapping around the base of his cock. 
He sucked in a breath, fingers tightening around your other arm, jaw ticking and eyes firmly on yours. You didn’t break contact even when you squeezed him a bit and he let out a shaky groan. 
You dropped your other hand, hooked your fingers around this waistband. Pulled it back so you could lean forward, eyes glaring at where your other hand sat. Then, with a noise so sweet he might have exploded, you let a string of spit slide from between your lips. Art watched it fall, achingly slow, onto his shaft, and then held back a cry when you started to slide your hand up and down his dick. Wetting it just right. 
You looked back up at him, made him look back at you. You pumped your fist slowly, thumbing his tip and adding his precum to your saliva. The sounds were erotic on their own, and even you had to tense your thighs together. Art’s own legs shook from his standing position, but before he could drop his head onto your shoulder you were removing both hands from his body and smirking at his painful moan. 
With your right hand still wet from his cock, you printed a perfect print on the front of his polo and pushed him gently back. He walked, transfixed on your gaze, until his calves were hitting the wooden bench and he was being sat down. He stared up at you, pleadingly so, and you lifted the hem of your dress just enough so you could slide onto your knees on either side of his hips. 
With your crotches pressed together, Art couldn’t stop his hands from flying to your ass and squeezing. You grinned, and his smirk returned in full force. 
“Should lose more often.” He murmured, leaning forward and pressing his nose against your chest, the low cut of your dress feeding his carnal desire to completely devour you. 
You hushed him gently, pushing yourself up so you could slide his shorts and boxers down to his thighs. His dick sprung out beautifully, making another wet patch where it hit the bottom of his shirt. You used your hand, brought one of his around so he could pump himself while you reached under your dress and pushed your underwear to the side. Then you were shuffling forward and letting Art align the tip of his cock with the wet of your folds.
You didn’t waste a moment, bracing yourself on his shoulders and rolling your hips along his own. Your breathy moans accumulated to the steam you had now registered coming from the shower he had abandoned in favour of letting you take him like this. His huffs and puffs only increased as he began to control your movements, rutting into you from below. 
The creaky hinges of the bench cried with every hurried thrust, but the shower muffled most of your sounds. You gave into your urges and licked a stripe up the plane of his neck, bringing your hands around to grip hard at his back, creasing his already ruined shirt. His own mouth was suckling and nipping at your chest, hitting that sweet sweet spot just in time for your movements to get a little sloppy. 
Smacks of skin on skin fuelled the fire in your gut, and your fingers coiled around his blonde curls. His own movements stuttered, and you let out a guttural groan into the humidity of the room when you finally reached your peak, Art following not far behind you. 
You stood with effort, fixing your underwear and patting your dress down while Art panted beneath you. Then you patted him on the cheek, took his sunglasses back from his shirt and put them right back on your face.
“I’ll see you at the mixer next month.”
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divider by @bunnysrph 🫶
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dieversa · 1 year ago
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The Morning after...
Meanwhile, the war in Ukraine hasn't vanished. Once again we spent last night in the corridor, away from the windows and the shattering glass. The historic centre of Odesa, where I live, is covered with scars that are getting bigger and bigger. The Odesa National Fine Arts Museum, a cosy art gallery, which turns 124 years old today, was attacked by russian missiles and shaheds. There is pain and wrath instead of celebration. And the best antidepressant for me - a walk in the park on a sunny November day.
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uss-edsall · 4 months ago
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The internet’s a strange dichotomy for me on 9/11, where I see the previous generations and a little of my older millennial counterparts posting wistfully (a little like I am), reflecting on it or being sickeningly uber-patriotic, then my generation (especially younger millennials) and younger doing their absolute best to meme on it.
For the older generations 9/11 was the end of a decade that is viewed with rose tinted glasses but was in no way peaceful. The Yugoslav Wars are entirely forgotten, except in old reruns of JAG. To them they view it as the death of America’s strange sense of innocence, toppling from the pinnacle of the world. Few remember the day before 9/11 as it really was. Undeniably the day permanently altered the psyche of every American old enough to comprehend what was happening.
We could go into all the reasons why younger generations like to take the piss with 9/11. Parody of the super patriotism. Making fun of the sanctified position in American nationalism and religion 9/11 was in. In defiance of the national and international mythos that dominated the ‘00s, the smoke clouds of the world trade centres casting a shadow over the whole decade. To honour the memory of the nearly five million who have died in the names of three thousand. And sometimes, just sometimes, simply because it’s irreverent and funny. To say the least, I understand the memes very well.
Both positions I understand, both I can partake in, but neither quite feels right for me, yknow? I’m caught in the middle, so to speak. I’m sure my line of work and interests (I’m a historian who focuses on 20th century Anglosphere history) has totally zero influence for why I feel a disconnect - but it’s a disconnect on both sides.
So I feel a little of the wistfulness, a little of the melancholy. And I see and respect the irreverence too. I’m sure I’ll be posting 9/11 memes like the rest of us by the end of the day. But for this morning, I’m remembering where I was when it all happened.
When Flight 11 crashed into the North Tower at 8:37 AM on September 11… It was 12:37 AM on September 12 in New Zealand. I was asleep.
I woke up to a different world.
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losersiren · 1 month ago
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𝘍𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘩 𝘔𝘦𝘢𝘵
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"𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒍𝒊𝒑𝒔 𝒎𝒐𝒗𝒆, 𝒔𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎."
CW: Fem reader (she/her), Time-appropriate misogyny, underlying themes of comphet, implied cannibalism, weird behaviour (?), cheating (in a sense?). N: To the two sapphics that wanted this, Merry Christmas!
New town, new neighbourhood, new people, and the sense of unfamiliarity hits you before the fresh air can as you open the mustard yellow cab door. 
Suburbia. 
Picture-perfect houses lined up perfectly as if they were soldiers waiting for an order from their sergeant; the lawns are flawlessly mowed, with no imperfections seen, just like the housewives inside those soulless clone houses. How…dull. Your hand unconsciously grips the metal door as your jaw clenches. Your heels hit the concrete when you finally get out of the taxi, too focused on the sight in front of you in a less content fashion.
In any other circumstance, moving into such an established community would be a blessing. Especially with the rise of Suburban houses and nuclear families after World War Two, people were scrambling to settle down before, god forbid, another war started yet again. You would have to be demented not to take an opportunity like this by its horns and celebrate. But you weren’t here to settle down with a beau in tow to populate this “great nation.” No. In this context, this place would be your collar for the foreseeable future; one misguided risk, you made one tiny mistake at your job, and now you’re on time-out.  
A journalist from the big city trying to make a breakthrough, which in itself is pathetic enough, but to add fuel to the flame, you’re a woman trying to achieve that unattainable dream. Getting into a male-centred field of work should've been nearly impossible, but you dipped your toes in it at the end of the day! Which is more than most could say; maybe it was your persistent attitude in your youth that gained your spectacular references or how you constantly pestered the journalist's office for a month straight to get a job since you were more qualified than 90% of the men in that fucking building. Still, you were placed into the “woman's” section. Which was an old rundown storage closet with a rotten-wooden desk in the middle of it…
Fast-forward to later, you were given only the bottom-of-the-barrel stories to research, and god, were you tired of them, you might’ve possibly “burrowed” one story from one of the rookie's desks; it's not like he could do any better than you. You quickly sift through whatever was attainable for you. Passing through possible big stories you knew you had no chance to break through quickly, such as “unknown serial cannibal still missing, when will they strike again?” or “Local government official caught embezzling after the war.” No, the story fitting your position was “Local priest fights allegations of using church money for the devil’s lettuce.” It's a perfect scandalous piece that is easy enough to get information on and would get your name somewhat out there.
You took that story and ran with it, and it turns out the more you looked into the story, the more the allegations had truth to it. This story would be your breakthrough! You would be among the first women to break through that glass ceiling! Yet, when you walked confidently into the office with an article written and sources in your hands, you left with a broken spirit, your article being taken by a male co-worker and a transfer to Pennsylvania. Your boss shouted at you in that box of an office, demeaning you in every way, but what stuck to you is when he scoffed out that the only thing you could handle was “the housewife section” in a newspaper nobody reads and that would be your only legacy other than dying a washed-up old woman with nothing to her name.
And here you were where you belonged. 
“Miss, the meter is running here. You just going to stand there or…?” a ragged, aged voice calls to you from the driver's seat. “Oh! Right…sorry sir…” You acknowledge him, breaking out of your dissociation, and march toward the cab's trunk, fighting with your heavy leather suitcases to get out of the damn thing. “Ya know, a young lady like yourself shouldn’t be doing all that work…your husband going to help you with that?” the taxi driver questions you as you struggle instead of assisting you. “Don’t have one,” you quip back as you huff, finally getting the second one out; his eyes give you run down, full of judgement. “Well, you aren’t going to apple butter a stud with that tone, that’s for sure; smile more, doll,” the older gentleman snorts as you give him the money you owe him. 
As the car drives away, you turn to see your already-furnished house, partly given to you by some distant relative who brought property. You barely even know him, which is why you have to pay rent. But who are you to look a gift horse in the mouth? 
As you take in your new life, your eyes bounce from the russet brown asphalt shingle roof to the moss-green mowed lawn. A sigh escapes you as your eyes finally drift to your neighbour's house; it's nothing too shabby; it's nearly identical to yours, sparing a few minor details such as colour and different window positions. Your curious eyes wander through one of the windows in your line of vision at a woman in her early to mid-twenties, skin so pale you could almost mistake her for a Jane Doe in a morgue. Her blonde hair resembles hay you would see decorated inside a barn, and her eyes are as lifeless as a cloudy blue sky before it rains. Her thin fingers scrubbed away at porcelain plates dazedly, hunched over just a bit over her sink so that she could compromise for her taller-than-average height. Once aimed at the dishes below her, her eyes now meet yours; her movements stopped like a deer in headlights. 
You goan, she probably thinks you’re giving her the royal shaft. Well, that’s it for first impressions. You give her a smile and a small wave, hoping she doesn’t misconstrue your curiosity for something worse and rush into your new abode. Her murky blue eyes clear the more they follow your figure, fading into your house.
-
Love.
It’s simple yet complex to comprehend. Since the dawn of time, humans have expressed love through multiple forms of media, languages, and art. Yet, despite all this knowledge of the emotion, it never resonated with Annabeth. No matter how many romance novels or novels she read in general about the topic (much to her mother's dismay), it never clicked. It didn't click when boys started paying attention to her in high school, and it didn't click when she debated the pros and cons for each boy in her grade to have an answer when her friends asked her about what boy she had a crush on. Maybe she was just broken; the emptiness of her heart matched her stomach when her mother took meals from her to have a figure to attract whatever city boy would come waltzing in their small town—born and raised to be a housewife, to have children then die like the cattle at her meemaw’s and peepaw’s farmhouse. So she adapted, pushing aside her heart-racing anxiety that should’ve been the flutters of butterflies in her stomach anytime a man romantically talked to her. All that is in the past now…she changed her “habits”…she has a husband, a good home, and he has an excellent job for the both of them.
At least up till now. 
The house next to her was always empty except when, once in a blue moon, the owner would come for a few days or even a month to check up and maintain the property. She didn't know the man well, she doesnt even remember his name – so when she felt eyes on her, the lonesome woman didn't expect you… 
There you were, staring at her in your grey blazer and matching skirt; your shoulder pads, as did your belt, accentuated your figure. Your eyes…such an alluring sight that they froze her on the spot, hypnotizing her until you retreated into the building. The breath she didn’t even know she held slipped out of her mouth, and her heart drums rapidly against her ribcage like it never had before.
One blink.
Two blinks.
What…
The soapy rag slipped from her hand, causing warm water droplets to splash on her face. This action snapped the blonde out of her trance-like state. 
Her pupils expand, her eyes frantically move left to right, and there’s a flare-up in her flight or fight senses, yelling at the housewife to do something! Anything! as if her body is unconscionably sending signals throughout her body to make a move, but the question is…for what reason? Annabeth thought of the most rational reason she was feeling such a strong emotional response, and of course, the only logical explanation was that she just really wanted to be your friend.   
The back of her hand wipes her once-damp cheeks.
Yeah, that’s the only possible answer.
The next few weeks became a blur of events, from immediately baking you sweets the next day to “welcome” you into the neighbourhood and telling you if you ever needed anything to holler at her. To her inviting you to dinner with her husband to help you get “accumulated” more into such a new environment from the bustling city– she’s an idiot. God, she’s a grade-a dumbass for even thinking that she could pull something off like this; why is she even nervous? 
The nail between her top and bottom teeth snaps, yet another fingernail lost to the unknown anxiousness of the night. The dinner went well, right? She hustled away on the food for a day or two and put the excellent cutlery out—you laughed throughout the night, talked to her, and complimented her. You wanted her opinion on topics, which barely happened to her in the first place! This night was…no, it is a smash, so why did she feel she was doing something wrong? Guilt in the back of her head slowly crept up like the common cold in an elementary school.
Heels clack against the title-checkered floors in the kitchen, and there you were, hand resting on the kitchen door frame, holding an empty wine glass by its stem. Your lipstick smeared onto the clean surface of the rim, and a small liquid of red wine remained in the cup. She didn’t notice you at first, too lost in her turbulent thoughts, till you said something.
“Mary,” you softly say, attracting her attention immediately.
It took her a second to recognize and respond to the name, but Annabeth did.
“Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you; your husband just told me to tell you he’s resigning for the night,” you inform her sluggishly.
“Ah…” She exhales “..bless your heart, you didn’t hafta go through such a fuss just to tell lil’ ol’ me,” the blonde sputters, leaning against the kitchen counter, her bony finger tucking an out-of-place hairpiece behind her ear. “Does he always leave you to wash the dishes without helping ?” You griped, a crease forming between your brows as you set your wine glass on the counter closest to you. “ innit my duty, ya know, as a housewife or something,” she jokes, but you make your way toward her; “at least let me help…it’s the least I could do after you’ve given so much of your hospitality to me.” As you make your way to her, the more of you ingrates itself into all of her senses, the way your perfume smells so divine, the way the summer season has kissed your skin, and the way your lips move, sounding out every word that leaves them. 
The way… 
“Please…” Her soft hands stop you from coming further, the young woman’s voice timid yet light as a feather, “At least let me keep something of my hometown and give ya some southern hospitality. Yer real nice for looking out for me, but I don’t mind it.” She changes the subject so that you can no longer interject. “It’s late out. Do n’tcha got work in the morning, you mentioned earlier.” As if reality hit you, your eyes widened. “Ah! I forgot, gosh, I'm such a ditz; thank you again for your hospitality. You didn’t have to do anything; I really appreciate it.” you say in a hurry, and unbeknownst to you, the woman in front of you is heating up more than the fireplace in the next room. 
“No, thank you! For coming over and entertainin’ me,” She insists while fiddling with her frilly apron nervously. “I’m worried we’ll go on all night in a gratitude cycle if I don’t leave now. I’ll see you soon…I mean, we are neighbours,” you laugh.
“Mhm, I’ll see you…” Annabeth nods 
You smile and thank her again for good measure, then make your way out of the kitchen, but before you leave, you stop at the archway. 
Her breath hitches 
“Before I forget…and feel free to say no since you’ve done enough for me already, but you are the only person I know in this town. I was wondering if you don’t mind helping me with my work; clearly, I'm not a housewife, again, you can say..”
“I would love to!” She exclaims in excitement, “I mean…ahem, I would love to, anything to help,” 
“Then I'll see you soon,” you smile at her; by god, it's radiant.
When she hears the front door close and footsteps fading into the background, she squeals excitedly, having to bite her pointer finger to keep her voice down. She’s downright flush. The colour has finally seeped into her life, and it's like a rainbow after a rainy day; you, you are…you are something. She can tell you’re a great friend.
With newfound enthusiasm, she finishes cleaning the dishes in record time, finally putting down the wet rag before something catches her eye. The wine glass you left is still in the same place as before; she reaches for it and inspects it carefully. Usually, she would’ve washed it right away, but she doesn’t…she just stares at it, almost burning a hole in the damn thing. Yeah…she needs to wash it…dazed she grabs the damp rag near her, but that doesn’t clean the glass. No, her mouth moves without warning as her tongue caresses the rim where your lipstick was once stained. She was taking in the flavour of your lipstick and you, in a way, creating more smudges than there were in the first place.
There was a creak of a bed upstairs, a slight noise that snapped her out of whatever haze she was in, and her fingers twitched. Right, her husband. Her eyes automatically move toward the meat cleaver hanged. No, she changed; she has a new life now…she can’t. She looks down at the wine glass in her hand and bites one of her fingernails.
What is she doing?
And why…is her heart racing again?
She washes the cup but doesn’t put it back in its rightful place; instead, she hides it like a secret treasure. Finally, she resigns for the night, making her way up the stairs, and she hears it again: her husband moving in his sleep, causing the bed frame to creak.
Her fingers twitch involuntarily at her side.
It’s okay, though.
Now she has something to look forward to; she’ll see you soon.
End notes: What?...no! I wasn't gone for.... almost half of the year, hahaha... On a real note, every time I wrote, I felt like it was slop that should be burnt at the stake, but then it hit me last week that I'm literally writing for practice. I'm going to write slop, and that's okay!!! I also felt like I did too much for this fic, so I had to rewrite it so many times. But! in the holiday spirit! I'm back! I tried to write a country accent and input some 50s slang, but I don't know if either worked LOL!!! WATCH Carol (2015)!! Okay, I'll shut up now hehe
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frost-queen · 9 months ago
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My mortal flaw // part 4 (Reader x Zuko)
Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly @denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury,  @imagines-by-her,  @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn, @iixchloee, @cherrysxuya, @zhochikennugget,
@ficsmoothie, @reallysparklychaos, @deafeningartisancandy, @multifandom-lover01, @smilefortae, @bravelittlebastard, @mysticwitchcraftco, @roseazura, @katie-tibo, @savannah0111, @defnotriri, @darkened-writer, @avrilh, @anea08, @mymoonempress, @tcey0, @romantic-reader, @lionheart178, @pink-www, @aloe-7, @tomblythslut, @camilo-uwu, @lunalixya, @karmaswitch, @vewnyy, @h33seungs-babe, @junieshohoho, @buggs-1, @elakari
Summary: Returning to a massive city in the earthkingdom. The three of you are rather greeted with brutal force... from fire benders. What might cause them to lash out to the fire prince and what will this mean for the future. [series]
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The ship neared land. You stood at the railing, still feeling a bit out of sense. You weren’t your full self yet. Still recovering from the Northern water tribe battle. Turning your head you caught Zuko arriving on deck. His fire nation clothing set aside. Settling for something plain. More natural to the earth kingdom colours. It made you look at your own clothing for a moment. Stating it so obvious you were from the water tribes. The brightest blue and silver.
Zuko went over to the other side, watching a small boat be lowered into the waters to head for land. Not a moment later came Iroh in sight. No sign of his fire nations colours as well. It made you wonder for a moment if you needed to change as well. One of the soldiers approached you. – “Princess.” – he greeted with a bow. He then gestured at Zuko and Iroh, who were waiting to get on the boat.
You gave him a respective nod before following him to the boat. Iroh took you by the arm, moving you forwards. – “Are you sure you are up for it?” – Iroh asked. – “Yes.” – you told him, not wanting them to be on their own. Also you didn’t want to look weak in front of them.
You got helped down in the boat. Iroh already sitting down with you. Looking up, you saw Zuko speak to his closest soldier. Slipping him something as it made you wonder what it was. Zuko then made his way down. You decided not to ask about it. Iroh handed an oar over to Zuko. They wanted to set it in the water as you got up, undoing yourself from your cloak.
With a deep sigh you sometimes wondered if they were truly dumb or just pretending to be. – “Put the oars down boys.” – you told them. Zuko and Iroh gave each other a glance. – “Princess you are not fully healed yet… let us row.” – Iroh suggested. You didn’t want to hear it. You could easily bring them to shore in a few minutes, while their rowing might take you hours.
“I’m not made of glass.” – you commented taking a stand in the centre of the boat. – “Y/n sit down!” – Zuko ordered bothered. You puffed loud, swaying your hands. The boat got pushed through the water, making Zuko fall back. Annoyed he grabbed onto the railing.
The water rippled smoothly around the boat as you steered it to land. Iroh enjoying the breeze. Zuko sitting with his arms crossed, moping grumpily. In a matter of minutes, you arrived at land. Iroh and Zuko pushed the boat further onto land to hide. You left your coat in the boat as it wasn’t cold anymore. – “Where are we going?” – you asked joining Zuko and Iroh.
“Anywhere!” – Zuko responded bitsy. Rolling with your eyes, you followed them further into the earth kingdom. After a while of wandering the forests, you started to recognized bits and pieces of previous travels. You had been here before not so long ago. Once you found a pathway, you knew enough.
Seeing the mountain of a city up head. Omashu. Frowning you wondered where all the people were. People used to line up to the gates to try and enter. Now it was deserted. You didn’t appear to be the only one confused, as Iroh was as equally confused yet didn’t commented on it. Zuko was leading the way.
Bushes ruffled as it made Zuko and Iroh take a stand. You turned around taking a stand for yourself to protect them from behind. There was more rustling till some men appeared from behind it. Zuko and Iroh lowered their firm hands with a soft sigh. They were fire nation soldiers. – “It’s the prince!” – one of them called out loud. Something about their tone alerted you.
Two or three men joined as they performed a sequence to conjure fire. Iroh and Zuko stumbled confused back. You tensed your jaw pushing between them as their fire unleashed. Moving your hands across, you caught the fire with a stream of water. They were shocked for a moment. Your expression turned serious, staring coldly at them.
“What is going on?” – Iroh called out confused why some of their own would attack. – “This is Prince Zuko!” – he told them. The soldiers ignored Iroh’s talk, pushing their fists forwards to blast fire at them. You held your hands in front of you, blocking the fire with a wave of water. Zuko grunted loud with a shout, letting his hands blaze fire.
Zuko threw fire at them with loud grunts of anger. Iroh joined keeping himself composed while he bended. Two of them turned their attention to you. Chuckling thinking this would be an easy win. You smiled witty back at them before letting water swish around you. Swiping your hands below while you spun, sweeping them off their feet with water.
A little change of your hand posture made the water go cold and turn into ice. You caught Zuko stumbling back, arms up as he blocked a wave of fire. You rushed over to him as Zuko lowered his hands. Doing a little jump, you moved your leg from up to down as you had seen Zuko do numerous times. A stream of water slashing the soldier like a whip.
The soldier got whipped to the ground. Zuko stared with wide eyes at you, recognizing the fire bending move. Zuko’s attention fell on a soldier coming from the side. He grabbed your wrist, pulling at it. Stumbling over your feet, you got moved behind him as he blocked the fire coming your way.
Another one came in view as you turned your posture towards him. Fighting back to back with Zuko against the soldiers. Water droplets nearing fire flickers. Iroh came closer as the three of you stood up right, panting as you looked at the soldiers out bested. Zuko puffed angered walking up the them. – “Who send you!” – he called out.
The soldiers were too worn out to reply, barely finding the strength to get up. You joined Zuko’s side, grabbing one by the collar. – Don’t mess with the prince again!” – you told them coldly. You then punched him in the jaw, sending him back down. Zuko turned towards you, touching your elbow.
“I’m good.” – you told him before he could ask it. He nodded firm in return. – “We cannot stay here.” – Iroh spoke urging Zuko and you to leave with him. The three of you went on, trailing up to the great city of Omashu. – “The fire nation so close to Omashu… they never dared before.” – Iroh mumbled to himself.
The city peaked up. Eyes widening as your mouth fell open. The flags of the fire nation waving gracefully in the wind against the sturdy walls of Omashu. - “How?” – you questioned. – “The water tribe was a distraction.” – Iroh commented firm. – “Who could’ve done this?” – was your next question as your eyes fell on something. You walked past Zuko closer to the walls. It first seemed little, but when you came closer it was a thousand papers sticking to the wall.
You gasped tearing one off the wall. – “What do you have?” – Zuko asked in a loud tone. His question made you move it behind your back. Not that it was many use as it was plastered a thousand times more behind you. Zuko approached you, keeping his gaze at you.
Coming to stand in front of you. – “Y/n!” – he simply said to demand you to give him what you were keeping hidden from him. Shaking your head, you didn’t want him to see. Zuko moved his arm around you, snatching the paper from your hands. It was a bit wrinkled so he smoothed it over till his eyes widened as well.
The shock in his eyes when he saw his own face on a wanted poster. He then looked up seeing a thousand more of them sticking to the wall. The poster crumbled in his hands as it flared up in flames. Turning to ashes. Zuko grunted turning sharp on his heel. Iroh neared looking at the posters for himself. – “Is it the fire lord?” – you asked him.
Iroh exhaled deep. – “Perhaps…” – he muttered. Iroh took you by the arm, leading you away from the walls of Omashu. The city wasn’t save anymore. – “Those soldiers… is that why they?” – you questioned. – “I fear so.” – Iroh commented, eyeing Zuko up ahead. Pacing like a mad man.
The three of you moved back towards the waters. Iroh keeping a close eye on every bush. They might be the first, but they won’t be the last. Not now when Zuko is being seen as an enemy of the nation. A shadow fell over the ground as it caught your attention. It made you look up, blocking the sun out to get a better look. High up in the sky, you saw the sky bison soar over the woods.
Knowing it was the Avatar. He probably knew about the fall of Omashu as well. Having been falling a bit behind, you jogged over to join Iroh. Iroh caught up with Zuko catching him by his shoulder. Zuko pushed his hand off with aggression. – “Three years I fought to restore my honour and now! I am seen as a traitor to the fire nation!” – he yelled, losing his temper.
Iroh wanted to reach out to his nephew but Zuko just pushed him away. – “I don’t need your sympathy old man!” – he cursed out. – “Zuko!” – you yelled for his temper. – “I certainly don’t need yours!” – he made clear with an angry point.
“Good because you don’t deserve it!” – you answered loudly. Zuko crossed his arms, turning away from you like a grumpy defeated child. – “You have two choices here Zuko. You can either complain about it or do something about it!” – you explained having enough of his whining. Zuko kept his clenched posture for a moment, till he exhaled deep, loosening his muscles.
He slowly turned his head back to you, ashamed that he got scolded by you. – “Now I assume we can’t go back to the ship?” – you asked Iroh who nodded. – “So we live on as fugitives until we get to the bottom of this.” – you took the lead as it seemed he wasn’t capable of taking decisions that were of ration. Zuko looked over at his uncle who only shrugged his shoulders, agreeing in silent with you.
Zuko puffed loud going right, heading away from the ship. Iroh gave you an approving nod. You were getting better at tempering him. Proudly you smiled in return. The three of you arrived at a stream. Zuko sighed soft as he came kneeling before the stream. Iroh on his right as you came kneeling on his left. Zuko took out a knife as you wondered what he might do.
He brought it up to his ponytail. With a bit of hesitation he cut it off. He then handed the knife over to Iroh, who cut the little bun on his head off. You looked down, closing your eyes for a moment. Opening them, you brought your hands to your neck. Unclipping the necklace of your tribe from your neck. You brought it forwards in your hand. Zuko and Iroh threw their cut off hair into the stream.
Staring at your necklace, you knew the sacrifice you had to do. Moving your hand forwards you wanted to toss your necklace into the water with them. A sudden grip around your wrist withheld you from doing it. Surprised you looked at Zuko. His hand tight around your wrist, his gaze focused on the water.
“It’s my sacrifice.” – you explained. Wanting to show them you were with them till the end. – “No.” – Zuko simply said. He took the necklace out of your hand, bringing it away from the water, closer to him. His hand disappeared under his shirt, where he tugged your necklace away. Your heart warmth by this, you touched his cheek, leaving a quick kiss on his cheek. Still wanting to give something up of yours, you ripped a piece of your dress. Tossing it into the stream.
Glancing to your side, you saw Zuko stare in silence in front of him. Caught off guard by your kiss. Taking a deep breath, you accepted your new faith. Not sure who portrayed Zuko and Iroh as traitors to the fire nation.
------------------------------------------------
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walkintomymystery · 2 months ago
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Fall Into Me
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(Set after Sonic 3 - Alternate Ending)
Defeated, world-weary, and impossibly lost, Shadow allows himself to be taken back into G.U.N custody. While they decide his fate, he is housed in a secret facility hidden deep in the heart of one of the country's National Parks. Still reeling from the heartbreaks that have shaped his life, Shadow never expected to find the closest thing to a home he'd known in over fifty years.
Pairings: Shadow the Hedgehog x Original Female Character
Warnings for this chapter: none!
//
Chapter Two
Deep inside The Hill, in one of its darkest corners, there were a series of small, bare rooms. Square, compact, and composed entirely of metal and white brick, these rooms were multipurpose, a utilitarian space to be repurposed over and over again, no matter the requirement.
Tonight, one had been transformed into an interrogation room.
At least, that’s what it looked like to Kit. She’d watched a lot of television during her time on Earth, including a considerable number of terrible detective shows. The format was instantly recognisable, there was always an interrogation in a dark room whenever a new person of interest was brought in.
She could see into the room from the hallway. The glass wall was fractured and malleable so that the scientists could switch its sheen as they desired. Usually, the rooms were blacked out in order to provide privacy and peace for those working within. Tonight, Kit could see in, but Shadow would not be able to see out.
She couldn’t take her eyes off him.
Shadow had been seated at a small table in the centre of the room. He was flanked by two soldiers, a different pair than the ones that had brought him here. They were keeping a safe yet watchful distance, she was sure.
Shadow’s bound hands rested on the table. Kit watched as Iris, one of the head scientists, leaned in close to examine the cuffs that now encompassed his inhibitor rings. Almost subconsciously, she reached across and fiddled with the ring on her left wrist.
This was not how she imagined events would unfold.
The news of Shadow’s arrival had sent a shiver of excitement through the base. In the few hours that had lapsed since then, The Hill’s scientists had been prepping their labs and collating any and all relevant data at their disposal.
The soldiers whispered to each other, turning their heads in towards their shoulders so that they could not be overheard. They exchanged horror stories, rumours passed on from friends-of-a-friend.
Yesterday evening, Lisa had found Kit down by the stream, and had sat down beside her as she explained what this meant for her, for all of them.
Though her tone had been calm and serious as she explained the gravity of Shadow’s arrival, Kit couldn’t ignore that rush of excitement that burst in her chest. Finally, someone like her, someone else not of this world. It hardly mattered that the humans seemed unusually tense and that today, at least seven people had stopped to warn her about this dangerous, otherly creature.
But now, standing here in the dark, in the middle of the night, Kit couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling in her belly.
She couldn’t help expressing her surprise, her confusion, when she saw him. This was the Ultimate Lifeform? The reports she had poured over spoke of a rage-torn force unlike anything seen before, a living weapon driven half-mad by grief. This was the ruthless, relentless creature she had been warned about? The monster who’d tried to destroy her adopted home?
Kit watched how he allowed Iris to tug at his bracers, check his eyes, his ears, and let her ask question after question, though he didn’t once answer anything she put to him. Shadow didn’t move, he didn’t speak, he just stared into the middle distance, his burning red eyes blank and unseeing.
Kit let out a long breath, trying to ease the queasiness in her belly. This was not going to be easy.
Her left ear twitched, then swivelled fully to face the corridor. She could hear footfalls reverberating through concrete long before any actual sound reached her. By now, she knew the pattern and rhythm of every single person in The Hill by their footsteps alone.
Lisa.
She rested a comforting hand on the small of Kit’s back, then waved to Iris through the window, forgetting that her colleague could not see her.
“How much longer?” Kit asked.
“Give it a few more minutes. They’re just checking the bracers.” Lisa looked down at her with raised eyebrows. “Patience could be the difference between you and a hospital bed.”
Kit hummed, trying to express agreement, though in all honesty, her impatience was threatening to get the better of her.
Shadow’s arrival meant a lot to her, to everyone at The Hill. Lisa could get answers she’d been searching her whole life for. Sorely underfunded work spanning decades would finally gain traction. There was a buzz in the air, a spark of something new and different and exciting.
“He doesn’t say much, does he?” Lisa said.
Kit smiled to herself. Selfish as it was, she couldn’t help feeling exhilarated.
Above all else, Shadow’s arrival meant she wouldn’t be alone anymore. There was finally someone who looked like her, someone else other, someone who knew what it was like to find themself on another planet with nothing and no one. This was the chance she’d been hoping for. This was her ticket home.
“How was your session today?”
“Hm?”
”Did you practice what we worked on yesterday?”
“Yeah, yeah…”
“You’re not listening to a word I’m saying, are you?”
Kit couldn’t even attempt to feign interest. She let the grin that had been threatening to spill out all night finally take over.
“Did you see the look on his face? He has the power of the Black Arms in his DNA, he tried to destroy this planet, and I flattened him - whammo!”
She swung her fist, as if uppercutting an invisible adversary.
Kit knew it was inappropriate, but it felt good to finally stretch her legs and put all her hard work and practise into use. All it had taken was a flick of her wrist, and the most powerful being on the planet was on his back. You could get addicted to a power like that. It could go to your head and bore a hole there, until it was all you could do to stop yourself reaching for it again.
She couldn’t take all the credit. Lisa’s bracers did most of the work. Disconnecting Shadow from his powers seemed like a drastic step at first, but after pouring through the footage of his rampage across Earth, Kit wondered if it might be worth asking Iris to double check the cuffs snapped around his wrists.
Then again, he hadn’t put up much of a fight. Since his failed attempt to make a break for it, Shadow hadn’t shown any sign of dissent or anger. In fact, he hadn’t expressed any emotion at all. He just stared straight ahead, letting the humans do what they wanted to him, his burning eyes piercing a hole through the glass that separated him from Kit.
“He should be punching holes through the walls but he’s just… Sitting there.”
An ungodly power, catatonic but volatile, subdued but brimming with a potential energy that scared Kit. A small part of her feared Shadow was only here because he’d allowed himself to be. But another voice warned of something else.
She had seen the dullness in his eyes and felt no resistance when he was knocked flat. Perhaps it was just that he didn’t care anymore. What else could they take from him?
Kit looked up at her keeper.
“Do you think he’s hungry?”
Lisa sighed.
“You remember what we talked about?”
“Lisa-”
“I know you’re excited, but he’s dangerous.”
Kit grinned.
“That’s half the excitement.”
“You have a job to do, Kit. He won’t be able to help us unless he trusts you.”
“I know, I know…”
Kit looked back at the boxy little room they’d led their new friend to.
“It’s just… I don’t know, I didn’t expect him to look so…”
She trailed off for want of a better word.
Shadow’s blank expression concerned her. Her job was simple in theory. Perhaps she had overestimated just how straightforward it would be.
It was only when Iris ran her hand up his arm and over his shoulder that Shadow finally showed any sign that he was even conscious. His lip curled back in a snarl, revealing one gleaming white fang, subtle but unquestionably clear.
Iris stepped back. She’d pushed it too far, but he still didn’t move. Shadow’s face settled back into that blank stare, unseeing and unfeeling.
“Lost,” Lisa finished for her.
“Yes.” Kit’s mouth twisted into a frown. “Will he help us?”
“That’s down to you. But yes, I think he will. Given time.”
Kit furled and unfurled her fingers at her sides, feeling the warmth of her power seep through her blood.
Her own bracers were switched off for now. She could feel her full potential nagging at her, pricking her fingertips, begging to be unleashed. Though she felt strong, it concerned her that Lisa thought she might need to use it.
Iris left the room but the soldiers remained. Silently, they flattened their backs to the wall behind Shadow, their eyes locked on him, their arms crossed over their broad chests. Both of them were armed, a gun at either side of their hips.
Iris motioned to Lisa before she headed off down the corridor, most likely to bed. It had long since passed midnight. The entire base was starting to settle in for the night, resting tired legs, washing away the day, cosying up under thick blankets.
It was icy cold in The Hill at night. Kit had pulled on one of Lisa’s old jackets before she left her room. She wondered briefly if Shadow was cold.
A hand on her shoulder brought her back to the present.
“They’re ready for you now.”
Kit tapped the toe of her black combat boot against the door, asking to be let in. As she waited for one of the soldiers to come, she adjusted the two trays she’d grabbed from the cafeteria at the last minute. She hardly had the stomach to eat, but she wanted to be welcoming.
One of the guards, the taller of the two, opened the door for her. In a gruff, low voice, he warned her to be careful, but Kit barely heard him.
Shadow’s ruby-red eyes followed her every move as she approached the table, burning like fire, cutting through the gloom.
His hands still rested on the table, his bracers safely attached to the gold rings that limited his powers.
Though he was barefoot, they’d allowed him to keep his gloves. Kit’s ear twitched at the subtle sound of friction, leather against leather, and knew without looking that he’d rolled his hands into tight fists, though his face gave nothing away.
Kit kept her own expression neutral as she took the seat opposite his. Being careful not to touch him, she placed the two trays down between them, making sure to nudge Shadow’s towards him so that he’d know it was for him.
“I didn’t know what you’d like, so I got you a little of everything.”
With a sigh, Kit leaned back in her chair and watched him watch her.
He really was as frightening as they said he would be. An unnerving, silent force of pure energy and rage. Arrogance had clouded her judgement, just because she held all the cards didn’t mean that Shadow wasn’t an imposing presence.
She waited. He watched.
Finally, Kit leaned forward and picked up a bread roll from her tray and began to split it in two with her thumbs.
“You should eat. The cafeteria is closed for the night. You won’t get another chance until breakfast.”
She lowered her gaze to her work, heart pounding. To take her eyes off Shadow felt like holding her hand between the open jaws of a crocodile, and it seemed to take an age before she raised her head again.
He didn’t move. Shadow’s expression didn’t even shift. He just stared into her, past her, through her.
Kit reached for her tray again and laid the roll down, separating the two halves so that she could slather them in butter.
“I’ve read all about you. I’ve seen what you did,” Kit said, changing tact. “None of that matters here. You don’t have to be afraid.”
The tiny butter packets she’d grabbed before she left the cafeteria were cold and firm, so she warmed one in the palm of her hand while she waited for Shadow to respond.
”You should eat, you must be starving.”
Still nothing.
With another sigh, Kit set about making the sandwich she’d been waiting for all night. She’d been too nervous to eat earlier, her stomach had twisted and clenched every time she thought about this very moment. Now, she was starving, but the burning red eyes before her, and the pair watching intently through the glass behind her, made it difficult to keep her hands steady.
She looked up at Shadow, offering him a small smile.
“Are you always this taciturn?”
When he still said nothing, Kit shook her head.
“Look, I get it. It’s difficult to adjust; I’ve been through it all myself. You’re in a strange place, it’s cold and dark, and humans are so funny looking… I’m here to make things easier for you.”
“By slamming me into the ground?”
The sound of his voice made Kit’s heart thud. It was low and sonorous, and calmer than she had anticipated. She had to fight the instinct to flatten her ears back against her head.
“Well, you tried to run. And that, I’m afraid, is the one rule here.” Kit tilted her head to the side and shot him a grin. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
Shadow just stared right back, unblinking.
Kit took a bite of her sandwich then sat back in the chair again. Her uneasiness had started to ebb now that he’d finally spoken. The anticipation had been broken, now it was just her and the bioengineered creature that tried to destroy her adopted home.
Shadow’s gaze finally slipped away from her, first down to the food in front of him, then to the soldiers who still stood to attention behind him. He seemed equally unimpressed with both.
“Where is here?”
Monotone and calm, his voice reminded Kit of the cello music that Lisa liked to play while she was working, low notes that would softly rise and fall, steady and subtle, like the swell of the ocean, like the sound of someone breathing.
“The area is called Montana. You’re in the heart of the Glacier National Park.”
“This is not a G.U.N. facility.”
“No, they handed you over to us. Just temporarily, while they work out what to do with you. Until then, you’re our guest.”
Finally, Shadow showed some emotion. He huffed, nose wrinkling. It made the red arches by his eyes fall and rise.
He held up his hands, palms flat to her, and twisted his wrists to show the bracers that encased his inhibitor rings, then he slid his hands off the table to settle them in his lap.
The soldiers behind him immediately tensed. One even took a tentative step forward but Kit subtly shook her head at him.
“Yes,” Shadow said. “I feel very welcome.”
“You’ll get used to them. They only buzz like that when they’re switched on.”
She raised her own hands and showed him her palms, then the backs of her hands, just as he had. The same heavy, brass rings were clasped around her own wrists, though hers were switched off.
The negative charge that ran through them could make your teeth ache at first. It rattled through cartilage and bone, finding every divot and socket until whatever power flowed through you was stamped out.
Shadow’s eyes followed her hands as they rested on the table for a moment, then reached for her sandwich again.
“So what is this place?” he asked quietly.
Kit shrugged.
“It doesn’t really have a name. Everyone just calls it The Hill or ‘base’. It’s a research centre.”
“A research centre needs soldiers?”
”A lot of sensitive work goes on here. Plenty of people would love to get their hands on what the scientists are working on.”
This was all regurgitated information, a brief version of the explanation Kit was given when she first arrived. It was late, there would be more time to explain later, though she didn’t think for a second that Shadow actually cared about The Hill or the work that went on here.
Shadow crossed his arms.
Again, the soldiers behind him tensed. One let his hand drop to his hip.
It was an empty threat. They were under strict instructions not to hurt Shadow, he was far too valuable, too expensive. Kit wondered if they’d even be able to make a mark on him if they tried. He was a force to be reckoned with, with or without his powers.
“And you are… Their pet?”
Kit felt her rehearsed resolve slowly fade away. Her confidence evaporated, along with her easygoing smile. He’d taken aim, hit a nerve - bullseye. And he knew it.
Kit jutted her chin to try and summon back some of her poise, but it was too late. He’d seen a side to her she hadn’t wanted to reveal, not yet; irritation, a flicker of anger.
“I’m a guest too.”
There would be more time tomorrow for a better, more intricate explanation, but tonight, all Shadow needed was the basics.
His ubiquitous scowl never once wavered as he looked her up and down. Kit tried not to appear as uncomfortable as she felt under his gaze.
“I’ve never seen anyone like you,” he said at last.
“You’ve never seen a fennec?”
Kit polished off the last of her sandwich and reached for the apple off his tray, since he wasn’t going to eat it.
“No, I guess you wouldn’t’ve. There's a whole galaxy of people out there, all shapes and sizes. Do you have any questions for me before we move on?”
Shadow nodded towards her ears.
“Can you pick up radio signals with those things?”
Kit shot him a look.
“Questions about the base.”
What little amusement Shadow had shown at his own joke slipped away, and his expression settled back into contempt and apathy.
“When can I leave?”
“Why, do you have somewhere to be?”
Another shot across the bow.
Kit raised her eyebrows, waiting for a response, anything. She wanted to see what would happen if he was pushed, if when cornered, Shadow was just as dangerous as people said he was. He was supposed to be a fighter, but that spark seemed to have been extinguished. She’d have to see to that.
“Come on,” Kit said. “I’ll show you where you’ll be staying.”
Flanked by the two soldiers, she led Shadow down winding, spartan hallways, pointing out various important areas along the way - the cafeteria, the mess, the elevators. There would be time for a proper tour tomorrow, but she thought Shadow might feel a little more relaxed if he had some basic knowledge of his surroundings.
At last, they came to the dormitories. Corridor after corridor lead off in every possible direction, each lined with countless doors. The room given to Shadow was right at the end, the last room to be assigned on this corridor.
”I’ll come by in the morning,” Kit said as she twisted the door handle and pushed it open. ”Not too early, don’t worry. I like to sleep in.”
Shadow said nothing. He just stared emptily into the dark room before him.
Kit glanced between him, the open door, and the two soldiers standing watch just a few feet away.
When Lisa had pulled her aside yesterday evening and told her in hushed, excited whispers about this assignment, Kit didn’t know what to feel. The idea had been too ephemeral to fully comprehend at the time, and now here she was, standing so close to this force of nature, or rather, the product of an act against it.
He really was terrifying, even shackled, silent, and completely powerless. He was at her mercy, and yet Kit felt like a kid playing with matches.
She was to be his guide, his confidant. Gaining his trust had seemed impossible yesterday, now she wondered if there was any point even trying.
But Lisa was always right, and if she thought it was possible to talk Shadow round, then it must be. Though now, warily watching Shadow as if he were a firework that could go off at any moment, Kit wasn’t sure how long she keep up this pretence of control.
“Tomorrow, I’ll show you where you can get some food and then we can take a walk around the base. If you need me before then, my room is just a few doors down. Number 736. And let me know if there’s anything you’d like for your room. We tried to make it comfortable for you but just ask if there’s anything else you need.”
Shadow stared into the gloom. The warm glow from the hallway lit up the furniture: a bed and a desk, a cabinet and a small table to eat at. There were warm blankets on the chair, a rug on the floor, and books on every shelf. A home from home, though not like any he’d ever known.
“This is an odd kind of confinement,” Shadow said quietly, almost to himself.
“You’re not under arrest, Shadow. You can go wherever you want, you can do whatever you want to do. There are no bars, no handcuffs, no expectations… So long as you follow the rules, you’ll do fine. You could be happy here. This is a good place. And the woods are beautiful. I’ll show you tomorrow.”
“And is that your role here, fox? Tour guide?”
“I’m your keeper.”
Shadow turned his head, nose wrinkled in derision.
“And what does that mean exactly?”
The dreaded question.
He had this way of looking at her, so intense and steady. It made Kit feel like he could see straight through her. With a gaze like that, lying to him seemed fruitless.
Honesty teetered on the tip of her tongue, threatening to spill forward and reveal that she had absolutely no clue what being his keeper meant. She had no idea what she was doing, but if she let that slip, if Shadow knew that she was way out of her depth, then she would be a goner, and everything Lisa and her colleagues had been working towards would be over.
“It means I’m supposed to look out for you,” she said, which was at least how she’d come to interpret her role. “And to make sure you don’t run off.”
“Nothing can stop me when I want something.”
“Well, I can be very persistent.”
Shadow looked her up and down again, sizing her up, making a hundred calculations in a split second. He was working her out, pinpointing any weaknesses and planning a way out of here. But the bracers were heavy on his wrists, a cold, constant reminder of his circumstances.
“I don’t doubt that,” he said.
With another huff and a disdainful look, he went into his room and slammed the door shut behind him.
Stunned, it took Kit a few moments to gather herself.
Her ears twitched against her will. She could hear Shadow moving around inside the room, picking things up and dropping them back down again carelessly, opening cupboard doors, peering curiously into the en suite, then the rustle of bedsheets.
It took one of the soldiers gruffly calling her name to bring her back to the present.
Clutching her borrowed jacket tighter around her body, Kit poked the door with her forefinger.
“Sweet dreams,” she said, then rolled her eyes. “Asshole.”
Kit thanked the soldiers, then went to bed, her mind whirring and whirling from all that she’d seen.
When at last she slept, she dreamt restlessly of a dark room and a pair of terrifying, wonderful scarlet eyes.
//
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ninyard · 3 months ago
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Oh my, would you mind writing about the date or truth Kevin interview if you want ? I feel like you would nail it
This is literally so silly and not as dramatic as it could be but I was picturing it a little like this; Kevin, the interviewer, the researcher and his publicist/manager/agent or whatever have already had a conversation about which questions are totally off limits - they can’t ask about the perfect court, or Riko. They can’t ask about the Ravens, and a couple other things. They clear a few that are going to be bait questions - ones he’s not going to answer, but will allow them to ask for viewership and engagement’s sake.
It’s an interviewer Kevin clicks quite well with, not a completely obligatory interview on a long and exhausting press run, but a half-relief of a pit stop in between the other obligations. It’s for a late night talk show, of some sort, one that’s known for showing the funnier side of celebrities because the host is so good at their job. So the rehearsals go fine, the audience fill into their seats, and Kevin is backstage with hair and makeup.
“Did they tell you what’s in the glasses?” He asks, the makeup artist touching him up with some powder on his forehead.
His publicist shakes her head. “Only that they’re gross. How’s your stomach?”
Kevin knows it’s likely he’ll get sick if there’s anything texturally disgusting put in front of him - he can handle most of the typically gross foods, but anything liquidy and unexpectedly chunky and he’s done for.
He gets his time warnings from the different runners and then he’s off to the left of the stage, and the host is introducing him with far too much flattery like he’s a real superstar - “Ladies and Gentlemen, let’s give a warm welcome to the Son of Exy, Kevin Day!”
Kevin steps onto the stage with that shining bright smile and a hand in the air, eyes on the crowd as if he’s waving at anyone in particular. The crowd goes wild.
The initial nterview is mostly boring press stuff - how’s the season? Excited for the future? Heard you got signed back on to the National Team this year, how does that feel? How are the Foxes? Tell us what’s in store for you next.
Then the host introduces the game section, and he’s brought over to a round table with a lazy Susan in the centre and a number of covered dishes along the edge.
“Have you ever played our little game of Truth or Drink before? Because I don’t think you have.” The host smiles as they sit down across from him, cards of questions in their hands.
“If I say I have, does that mean I don’t have to do it?” He looks out towards the audience like they can save him, playing up to the cameras around him. The crowd laugh like he’s the funniest person they’ve ever witnessed. It helps that the floor manager encourages them from the stage floor.
“So here’s how it goes, we spin our little table here and you’ll end up with a drink or a snack in front of you,” The host explains. The audience know there’s more to it than that. “I’ll ask you a question, and you have a choice - you can answer that question, Kevin, or you can have whatever is on that plate in front of you. Got it?”
“Sounds easy to me,” Kevin nods and then purses his lips as if he doesn’t know what he’s signed up for. “Maybe too easy.”
“Definitely too easy,” The host agrees, and spins the table until a dish stops in front of Kevin. “So why don’t you lift up that cover there and tell us what’s in front of you?”
Kevin lifts the chrome covering - it’s a small shot glass of some thick white substance. It looks like mayonnaise, and then he lifts the identifying card to read it; It’s a shot glass full of pure mayo. Easy enough.
“Not a good start,” he holds up the card so the cameras can find it and frowns. “But something tells me it’s not the worst.”
“Who’s to say?” The crowd are prompted to laugh. “So, first question, we know that you were the person who made the decision to sign Neil Josten to the Foxes last year. Did you know who he was when you signed him?”
The crowd ooh at the question and Kevin feels his heart stutter for just a second. Were they supposed to mark Neil as a no-go topic? Did they forget? He laughs instead, and places the cover next to the shot glass.
“No, no, I didn’t.” He shakes his head, and shrugs his shoulders. “Unfortunately it didn’t come up on his background check.” He mocks pulling on his collar like the whole Neil situation is a yikes topic. The words leave his mouth through a false awkward smile and the audience eat it up with laughter and applause.
“Would you have signed him if you knew?” The host asks, and Kevin points a finger at them in mock warning.
“Isn’t that a second question?” The crowd love it. He knows how to work an interview, having fun with an audience that love even the simplest of jokes.
“Okay, okay, playing by the rules, I see,” The host turns the table until another covered dish lands in front of Kevin. “And our next dish is…”
Another shot glass. This time full of cold baked beans. Kevin grimaces as he inspects the glass. “I’m beginning to think this interview was a bad idea...” He laughs.
“Hey, no take backs!” The host flips their stack of cards to a question Kevin knows is one he’s not supposed to answer. Gross, he thinks, but it’s not the worst thing on the table - that, he’s sure of. “Our next question tonight, is one I’m personally interested in…” The host riles up the audiences curiosity. They point to his cheek. “Kevin, what’s the real meaning behind the Queen piece?”
It’s an obvious answer - everyone knows it’s because Riko was the so-called King of Exy, but saying that out loud would just confirm it, and it’d be the first time he’d have said it on record. People have been itching for him to confirm it since he’d had the number covered up, but he’d refused to, in order to avoid the stirring up of unnecessary drama. It was a 75% harmless question, but still good enough to get some speculation and buzz online about the show and Kevin’s interview.
“And if I say it’s my favourite chess piece, can we move on?” Kevin pokes fun at the question with half a grimace, half a smile. The host laughs and covers their face with the cards.
“No, no, we’re looking for the real reason Kevin,” They raise their eyebrows and use the cards to point at the glass in front of him. “Or you can always take a drink.”
Kevin pretends to hesitate before he holds his nose and knocks back half of the shot. The gag he can’t hold back isn’t quite pretend, but he covers his mouth to swallow, before shaking his head. “That’s… disgusting.”
“It’s protein?” The host offers.
“Not enough to be worth it.” He retorts, and the audience laughs again. He washes it down with the glass of water that had been left by his side. He shakes his head again before clearing his throat. “Next one, please.”
The same as before, a spin of the table, and suddenly Kevin is sat in front of some other gross concoction, and a supposedly online-drama inspired question is asked. It’s something he doesn’t mind answering, and so he does. The game moves forward; blended fish guts. The audience grimaces with him. There’s no way he’s drinking that. There’s absolutely no way.
“This is torture,” he holds back a retch and tries not to smell the wafting fishy odour from the awful looking drink. “I think you should be put in prison for this.”
“You wouldn’t be the first,” the host laughs. They line up their cards by tapping them on the table. “Okay, are you ready for this one?”
“Go easy on me,” Kevin turns away from the glass to stop himself from looking at it. “I won’t ever come back.”
“I don’t know…” They tease. “So instead of drinking that delicious drink, Kevin, why don’t you tell us how you really broke your hand?”
The question is out before anyone can stop it. Not that they would’ve been able to, anyway, but he could’ve sworn he’d put that on a list of do-not-asks. But maybe he had been stupid enough to believe that he’d been back in the public eye long enough after all that controversy that they wouldn’t care anymore. He let the crowd drink in the question as his careful-not-to-falter eyes caught his publicist standing off the side of the stage. He watches her turn to a crew member with pure rage on her face.
Kevin hides his head between his legs in an over-dramatic reaction, as the audience continue to go wild for much longer than necessary. He pretends to laugh as he catches his breath and considers if there is any possibly way out of this one. He could lie, maybe, but he doesn’t have anything on the tip of his tongue that would be good enough. It’s only likely to get him in far more trouble than it’s worth, anyway, if such a lie were to start spiralling.
“Fish guts?!” He swallows down his beating heart and exclaims. “That’s the question you ask when I have fish guts in front of me?!”
He’s certain he can see fear flash over the hosts face as they laugh. They know this is an off-limits question, even if they hadn’t been told.
“I’ll go easy on you,” they hold out their hands, and the crowd boo as they’re dying for the answer. “You don’t have to drink the whole thing. Or you can answer the question…” they push.
Kevin looks at the grey pink liquid. This wasn’t in his PR training. But not once does his million dollar smile fall from his lips, not once does his face give anything away. Smile, laugh, give the audience what they want. They love you. Remind them why.
He lifts the glass to smell it. A bad idea, in retrospect, as he’s retching before it’s barely an inch or two off the table. For a moment he half considers telling the truth, but that is never a serious option. He hopes the Moriyama’s can see his dedication, that these are the lines he’s willing to cross to keep their little secret.
“I miss when these shows were boring,” Kevin beats a hand on the table, and the crowd slows down, save for a few still pushing for him to answer the question. “They didn’t have this kind of thing on Larry King.”
He gets a laugh for that one. He tries to lift the glass once more and retches again. The host covers their face again to laugh, but Kevin can see the fear beneath branded card stock.
“Remind me never to come back here again,” The audience erupts as the glass reaches his lips, and as quick as its there, its in the trash bin that the production team has left beside him. He can’t help but vomit up a mixture baked beans, water, and whatever else sat in his stomach. Dedication and loyalty, he reminds himself, as he thinks of the clips that are going to surface online after this one.
The interviewer is quick to wrap up the segment, thanking a now pale Kevin for his appearance, and the call is made that the show is at commercials. On-Air and Mic-Live lights switch off, but Kevin doesn’t let his smile fall until he’s out of view of the crowd who applaud him off the stage well into the ads. He barely comprehends the words his publicist is saying to him as he is handed some flavoured carbonated drink. It doesn’t matter that it’s against his rules of things to drink, he chugs half of the bottle down anyway. It doesn’t do much anyway; He’s sure he’s going to be tasting fish for weeks.
Note, he thinks, pushing open the door for his private dressing room. There’s nobody there, and he heads straight to the toilet to retch again.
Add how I broke my hand to the list of things that interviewers are NOT allowed to ask about.
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leahsgirl · 11 months ago
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celebration night | alex greenwood x reader
based off this request except i kind of went off script a little, only a short 1.3k for because its currently 4am right now - hope you enjoy!
mentions of anxiety (only briefly), suggestive language, smut sort of??
it was times like these, where you were sat in the back of a car, dolled up to the nines, when you wondered how you ended up with your girlfriend.
the two of you was en route to another awards ceremony that would be celebrating her (and her teammates) contribution to the footballing world.
you was her plus one of course, having dragged you to a couple beforehand over the course of your relationship. you weren't exactly the biggest fan of these events considering you was a very introverted person with an almost constant pit of anxiety in your stomach, but you knew how much they meant to Alex and what kind of girlfriend would you be if you weren't there supporting her?
when you first met her, at a club match you went watching for your childhood friend chloe, you already had a massive crush her. what you didn't expect was for the blonde to offer getting drinks sometime when kelly introduced you and the rest was history really.
so yeah, back to the present where you, a bartender, was keeping a strong grip on your football sensation girlfriend's hand, trying your best to keep your nerves under control. "i'll say it once i'll say it again; how do you do this all the time? how do the nerves not knock you sick?"
the older girl chuckled, "nerves turns into adrenaline - and adrenaline helps me play better." stating it simply and turning her head to press a light kiss on your temple. "you'll be fine baby; you always have me remember?" alex was aware of how your thoughts could spiral to the point of no return, how you would psychoanalyse certain situations and how you anxious you could get when in big groups like tonight will be. she knew exactly how to calm you down and for that you was thankful.
the car now pulling up outside the steps that lead to the building, a chauffeur opening the door for the blonde and you, alex got out and once again held her hand out for you to take. there was a few paparazzi/photographers outside behind the rope fences calling out your girlfriends name. "alex! alex!" "alex! whose the girl with you?!" "over here alex." after a few shots you was ushered inside where the place was already buzzing with people.
they'd gone for all white and gold decorations you gathered, having noticed the balloon arch mixed with the two colours, as well as white decorative roses scattered around in bunches and a champagne tower slap bang in the centre. you never understood the point of them if you was honest, the glasses are far too dainty to remove from the pyramid and just one accidentally nudge to the poor thing and it would come crashing down.
"y/n, alex, hiya." turning around to the familiar voice you see lucy, one of the blue-eyed girls national teammates. you liked lucy, she was one of the girls you clicked with the most when visiting alex at her european and world cup tournaments. "oh my god i feel like i haven't seen you in ages" you say as you went in for a side hug. "its only been two months y/n, has alex over here been boring you that much?" the brunette smirked while your girlfriend rolled her eyes playfully.
"she's been keeping me busy actually, last week she forced me to learn how to rollerstake for no reason." its true, the thirty-year-old was always convincing you to do the stupidest, most cheesy stuff but you don't mind. In fact, it's probably one of your favourite things about her seeing this goofier side compared to the more serious and reserved ones the fans got.
"don't act like you don't secretly love it." she said crossing her arms over her chest while you just giggled in response and pecked her lips. "i do sweetheart don't worry."
after some mindless chatter with the barcelona player, staff came out to escort people to their seats. the set-up was tables of six and you was happy to find out accompanying you on your table was mary, lucy, ella and her boyfriend joe.
complimentary alcoholic beverages were being given throughout the night which you indulged in as you watched the awards being presented one by one.
alex was up for some sort of team award if you remembered correctly, not exactly understanding the drabble of words she was saying when she first told you the news, you think its eleven people getting the same award or something if you took anything from the conversation. what you did know is that she had to go up against international players which makes the award even more special if she is to win.
the night dragged on as you listened to speech after speech after speech. eventually, the time had come for 'FIFPRO Women's World 11' "that's it." you thought to yourself as the man read the title of the honour, now recalling alex telling you about fifa's women starting eleven.
"now introducing your women's starting eleven team!" the massive sliding doors opened up, revealing the ladies one by one. An overwhelming sense of pride engulfed you as you watched your partner stand on stage in her very sexy suit (if you do say so yourself) with trophy in hand. with a quick few lines from each girl, they made their way back to their seats. standing up, you beamed at alex and placed your hands on her cheeks "i'm so so proud of you." she leans in and kisses your lips, smudging your red lipstick slightly.
"you in the mood for celebrating later?" parting away from your lips, she whispered in your ear. you could see her eyes filled with lust which meant only one thing. offering to get out of there, alex and you say your goodbyes to your friends/her teammates. To be honest the ceremony was dying down anyways so it was only a matter of time before you actually did leave.
as soon as your front door closed hands grabbed your waist and pressed you onto the wall. lips attached to your neck, biting and sucking at the skin as you gave in to the quiet noises of pleasure before they found your mouth once again.
the kisses were sloppy and eager as the defender swiped her tongue across your bottom lip gaining entrance into your mouth, tongues in a fight for dominance.
she stopped. dragging you by the hand into your bedroom and pushing you onto the end of the bed. this time, she snaked her hand under your top, reaching up to massage your breast. "you're beautiful you know that?" alex watched in amusement as you tried to stay quiet while she pressed her knee up against your centre. "tell me what you want princess."
literally just the words she was saying was enough to send you over the edge if you let it. "i want- i want you lower." the breathlessness in your voice made the blonde smirk, complying with your wishes. she made her way down to your pants menacingly slow, undoing the button and sliding the silk material off until they were disregarded somewhere in the room. "can i just say, I'm practically naked and you're out here still in your suit." as much as you loved the suit, you'd much rather be seeing her toned abs right now.
taking the hint, she quickly thew the outfit off, now hovering over you in just her black lingerie. "better?" she asks and you nod, shamelessly raking your eyes down her whole body.
the man city player busied herself with tracing patterns up your thighs, getting dangerously close to your centre without actually touching it. "alex please."
toying with the elastic on your thong she looked up at you. "please what? i want to hear you say it." the lust was practically oozing out of her mouth right now. slotting her hand under the mesh material of your underwear she repeated herself, "say it y/n."
your brain was going into overdrive from the teasing she had given you; your chest heaving. "alex..please fuck me already."
she caught your lips in a passionate kiss. "good girl."
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thatsonemorbidcorvid · 8 months ago
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“An 11-year-old girl who was misdiagnosed with sickness bugs and migraines was assessed by doctors about 30 times before they found that she had a brain tumour, according to her mother.
Tia Gordon, from Northampton, was admitted to hospital as an emergency despite previous visits to GPs, A&E and calls to 111.
Imogen Darby, Tia’s mother, said her daughter’s glasses prescription had also been changed four times before the tumour was found.
Darby had sought help regarding Tia’s migraines and vomiting for more than three years, before being told that the wait for an MRI scan would be at least eight months. It was only when Tia’s balance and ability to walk were affected that she was given an emergency scan, which found a brain tumour measuring about 3.5cm.”
Darby said: “I was told Tia had stomach bugs and migraines. The first thing I was told, because it was the summer, [was that] she just needed to drink more water.
“After probably a year, she got diagnosed with migraines and they gave her paracetamol for that. She was also given another medication for that and her final diagnosis in January from paediatrics was migraine with sickness.
“Over more than three years, I took Tia to doctors, she was refused MRIs, she was refused to be seen by emergency paediatrics, I called 111, I went to A&E. She had her glasses changed four times, she was given medication and she had a consultant, but it took for her to be unable to walk for her to get the care she needed.”
Darby first noticed Tia’s symptoms in March 2020 when she started vomiting with increasing frequency. Darby twice tried to get her daughter referred to emergency paediatrics, but was declined both times and told it was not an emergency.
Later, Tia began holding her neck in an unusual way and complained about stiffness, for which she was referred to a physiotherapist.
Despite several visits to A&E and calls to GPs and the NHS’s 111 service, Tia’s remained undiagnosed. From November 2023 to January 2024, Tia was vomiting violently every day, and began to lose her balance. “She was tipping her milk out in the kitchen sink,” Darby said. “She was standing there and … she didn’t notice she was doing it at all.”
After a phone call from Tia’s school, which said Tia was holding her neck and was off balance, Darby took her to Northampton General Hospital. While there, Tia was unable to walk in a straight line, and a CT scan revealed a pilocytic astrocytoma — the most common type of brain tumour in children.
Tia was taken to Queen’s Medical Centre in Nottingham, where she had a ten-hour operation to remove the tumour. “It was quite a horrendous day,” Darby said. “They managed to get 96 per cent of it out.”
Tia called the growth her “astronaut tumour”. Since the procedure, she gets very tired and can sometimes lose her balance. Her recovery will consist of an MRI scan every three months for the next five years, and she is having regular physiotherapy and meetings with neurologists.
She is keen to get back to her hobbies. Darby calls her “Dr Doolittle” due to her love for animals, and added that Tia is a keen reader and enjoys playing dodgeball.
Cameron Miller, director of external affairs and strategy at the Brain Tumour Charity, said “We wish Tia all the best with her continuing treatment and thank Imogen for sharing her story.
“Sadly, it’s one that we often hear. For many brain tumour patients, it simply takes too long to be diagnosed — and this is one of the reasons why we’re calling for a National Brain Tumour Strategy.”
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bromfieldhall · 16 days ago
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CHARACTERS: Colin Bridgerton/Penelope Featherington
RATING: Teen
MODERN AU for Christmas
BLAME IT ON THE MISTLETOE
Colin Bridgerton’s world had just tilted on its axis.
More than that, it’d been turned completely upside down, inside out and bounced around like a basketball a few times as well, for good measure.
In the distance someone opened a door and there was a loud blast of, ‘Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree’ before it became nothing more than muffled white noise as the door closed again. It might have been the National Anthem for all he cared because his good friend, Penelope Featherington, was in his arms and that was all that mattered.
He’d only gone to the kitchen to get some water and have a few minutes to himself. The annual Christmas party at Bridgerton House was a raucous affair, as always, and he’d needed a break from the loud chatter and even louder festive music.
When Penelope had walked in having had the same idea, he’d offered her a glass and they’d chatted for a minute or so until he’d noticed the mistletoe hanging from the ceiling.
“Oh, come on, Pen, it’s Christmas. You can’t mess around with tradition,” he’d said with a cajoling smile after she’d initially refused his offer of a kiss.
She’d huffed out a sigh and rolled her eyes at him but then, surprisingly, had changed her mind and agreed.
Grinning widely, he’d leaned in, intent on giving her nothing more than a chaste peck on the mouth. As soon as his lips had touched hers, though, his brain had stopped working and his heart had taken over.
He’d never, in his wildest fantasies, imagined that a kiss could feel like that.
But then again, he’d never kissed Penelope before.
And now he never wanted to kiss anyone else, ever again.
He had one arm around her waist, pulling her flush against him. His other hand was lost in her curls as he cupped the back of her head, holding her there while their lips and tongues met again and again. He shuddered as she ran her hands up his chest and curled around the back of his neck; her touch igniting little pinpricks of awareness all over his heated flesh. His hand slid down to her bottom and squeezed as he pulled her impossibly closer to him, trying to relieve the throbbing ache of his arousal as he ground lightly against her. The low groan she let out was music to his ears but as he moved against her again, she suddenly wrenched herself free of him with a gasp and stumbled back a couple of steps.
Panting heavily, it took him a few moments to realise that she was no longer in his arms. His hands clenched into fists at his sides as he took in her appearance. She looked as wrecked as he felt. Hair in disarray, eyes wide, lipstick smudged. As if knowing where his thoughts were going, he saw her raise a shaky hand to her mouth.
And then he heard it. His name being called. Footsteps getting closer. He knew it was that that had startled her. Torn her from him when he wasn’t anywhere near ready to let her go.
Her eyes widened even more if that were possible and before he could say anything she turned and rushed hurriedly out of the kitchen.
It jolted him out of his stupor enough that he had the sense to move behind the island in the centre of the kitchen in order to hide his aroused state. Gripping onto the marble counter, he took in lungfuls of air and closed his eyes, trying to calm his unruly body down as three men entered the room, laughing loudly.
Colin’s eyes flew open again and his irritation flared.
Fife, Stanton and Wilding.
Three of his ‘friends’, although he used that term very loosely when it came to them now.  He rarely saw them outside social events but as they ran in the same circles as he and his family, they always secured an invite to their Christmas party.
“Just saw the Featherington girl in the corridor,” Fife stated with a smirk. “She looks like she’s had a right good session and now I know why.”
The other two men sniggered and Colin frowned, not liking his insinuation one little bit.
“What on earth are you talking about, Fife?” he snapped.
“I’m talking about the fact that you’ve got lipstick all over your face, Bridgerton,” he pointed out wryly. “Hers, I’d wager and here we were told that you’d sworn off women after that Marina debacle a while back.”
Bloody, Benedict. A couple of drinks and he’s blabbing to everyone.
“I have,” he muttered, then turned away from them and grabbed a paper napkin.
“And yet you couldn’t wait to get her alone, could you?” Fife continued to goad.
Colin wiped roughly at his mouth and felt his stomach drop when he saw her telltale red lipstick staining the tissue. No plausible deniability there then. He crushed it in his hand and turned back to face them.
“Look, Fife, Penelope is a...a...friend of the family. She doesn’t count. She came in for a drink and I gave her a quick kiss under the mistletoe because it’s tradition, that’s all. There is nothing more to it than that,” he dismissed tersely.
He’d stumbled over the lie. He knew that Penelope was more than just a friend – to him at least. But he just wanted them gone. Preferably out of the house and his life for good. He needed to think. Needed to understand what had just happened.
Needed to find her.
“I bet she’d like there to be more,” Stanton piped up with a snort. “She’s always looking at you. That kiss will probably help her take care of herself for the next couple of months at least.”
Fife laughed loudly.
Colin felt sick.
“I mean, I don’t blame you taking advantage of what’s offered, Bridgerton,” Fife joined in with a wink. “Even I’d have a go if I could fob it off with the old mistletoe excuse.”
“Yeah,” Stanton concurred, “she looks half decent tonight. Another couple of pints and I might find some mistletoe myself.”
That was it. Colin had heard enough. More than enough.
“Get out,” he told them through clenched teeth. “Get the hell out of this house.”
“Oh, come on, Colin, they didn’t mean any harm,” Wilding told him placatingly.
“Yeah, lighten up, man, we’re just having a laugh,” said Stanton dismissively.
“No, you’re not,” Colin retorted angrily. He stalked around the island and came to stand directly in front of them, giving them all a grim look. “You’re being insulting about a very good friend of mine and I won’t stand here and listen to it anymore. Now, get out or I’ll throw you out.”
“Like to see you try,” Fife challenged, squaring up to him.
Alcohol had evidently made him brave.
“What’s going on here, then?” came an authoritative voice from the doorway suddenly.
Colin glanced over and saw his elder brothers, Anthony and Benedict standing there. They gave off a casual air as they leaned nonchalantly against the door jamb but he could tell by their faces that they’d heard at least some of the conversation.
“These…gentlemen…were just leaving,” he told them as he shot the three men another glare.
“Oh, I see.” Anthony straightened up and nodded towards the door that led into the garden. “Let me see you boys out then.”
“You can’t be serious,” Fife declared on a laugh.
“But I am,” Anthony assured him as he took a step forward, his expression stern. “This way saves you the embarrassment of having us march you through the house where everyone can see. Although I’m more than happy to that if you’d prefer?”
Fife looked around at the others and they nodded at him, clearly wanting to take the better of the two options. He let out a sigh of resignation.
“Very well,” he conceded with a nod. Most people knew not to go against the head of the Bridgerton family. They rarely, if ever, came off the winner. He couldn’t resist a final dig at Colin though as he passed by him. “Hope she was worth it,” he muttered in disdain.
Colin snapped and went to lunge for him but found himself held back by a firm arm across chest. He glanced to his side and Benedict shook his head at him.
“Leave it, brother,” he advised in a low voice.
Anger vibrated through him as he stilled and watched the men leave. As soon as they’d gone, he shook his brother’s arm off him with a grunt and headed out of the kitchen without a backwards glance.
Ignoring the calls of his brothers, he strode along the corridor and into the crowded lounge looking for Penelope. When he didn’t find her there, he went into the next room and the next until it eventually dawned on him that she must have left.
He got his phone out of his pocket and quickly sent her a message, asking where she was and if she was okay. Moments later he saw it marked as read and waited for a reply.
Two hours later he was still waiting.
It hadn’t helped his sour mood one bit when he’d asked Eloise to send her a message as well and she’d told him almost immediately that Penelope had replied. She’d gone home because of a bad headache apparently.
Colin knew it was an excuse. He also knew that it was his fault. He was the one that had pushed her for that kiss. He was the one that had crossed the line. He was the one that had buggered everything up.
He sat through the rest of the party nursing a warm beer and a battered heart. It felt as though he was on autopilot. Every laugh forced. Every conversation brief. Stilted.
And when the party finally ended, he went up to his room and lay on top of his bed just staring at the ceiling as he relived their kiss over and over, again and again. How she’d felt under his mouth, his hands. Her scent, the noises…God, the noises, she’d made…
It had changed everything for him. Unrealised feelings that’d lain dormant had awoken with a fire that now burned fiercely within him. Threatening to consume him with a heat that raged whenever he thought about her. About their kiss.
This was love, wasn’t it?
It had to be, because whatever it was he thought he’d felt for Marina had crumbled to mere ash in comparison.
It was love.
He was in love.
With Penelope.
Had been for quite a long while when he really thought about it. He’d just been completely oblivious to what his heart had been trying to tell him for years.
All those times he’d sought her out at social gatherings, parties, hell, even the family dinners she’d attended as Eloise’s friend – he’d always gravitated to her. Always wanted to sit with her. Always wanted to hear what she had to say. And she listened to him too. She made him feel seen in a way others, and even his own family at times, just didn’t.
She was kind and charming and so bloody funny when she was comfortable around people.
And she was beautiful.
Inside and out.
Just…beautiful.
He groaned and rubbed a hand over his face dejectedly. He had to fix this between them. If nothing else, he just couldn’t lose her friendship. He couldn’t be without her in his life.
He rolled onto his side and closed his eyes. He had to get some sleep and then he would try and speak to her tomorrow. Hopefully she would be receptive to him then.
It turned out she wasn’t. Nor the next day or the next. By Wednesday he’d had enough of his messages being left on read and decided to go to the bookstore she owned. See her face to face and ask her to talk. Get down on his knees and beg if he had to. Whatever it took so he could mend what he’d broken in their friendship.
And once he’d done that…well, who knew? Maybe one day, if he was very lucky, they might even be more.
He awoke from yet another fitful sleep to a cold, frosty morning and quickly showered then dressed in jeans and a chunky red polo neck jumper. Penelope’s shop opened at nine and he wanted to get there as close to then as he could.
He jogged down the stairs and into the dining room where there was breakfast already laid out. He thanked the perks of being born into a privileged background then grabbed a couple slices of toast and an orange juice.
The rest of his family barring Anthony, his wife, Kate, who were away for a couple days, and Benedict were there. He chatted with them while he ate then, once done, he stood up just as Benedict walked in, looking more bleary eyed than bushy tailed. He’d obviously had another late night – or early morning. You never could tell with him.
“Where are you off to so early?” his brother asked curiously.
Colin glanced a little self-consciously around at the rest of the table and shrugged.
“Uh, I have some last minute Christmas shopping to do,” he lied smoothly.
Too smoothly it seemed because his brother perked up at that and announced that he would join him. Just as soon he’d had some breakfast.
Not wanting to draw attention to his plans, Colin reluctantly sat back down and gave his brother a brittle smile of thanks when he placed a cup of tea down in front of him.
Benedict beamed and Colin swore that he knew he was holding him up for something. He could be an arse like that.
Eventually he finished probably the largest plate of food he’d ever seen his brother eat and they headed out together forty-five minutes later than Colin had originally planned
“So, where are we off to?” Benedict asked brightly as they walked down the street.
Clearly his hangover had gone.
“Pen’s shop,” Colin replied curtly, beyond frustrated.
“Oh, are you picking up a book for Eloise?”
Colin frowned at him.
“No.”
Benedict looked puzzled.
“Then why the secrecy?”
“No secrecy. I just didn’t want everyone else to know.”
“That’s the very definition of secrecy,” Benedict commented wryly.
Colin sighed as they headed down the steps to the tube station.
“Just leave it, okay?”
“Does this have something to do with the party?” he probed lightly. “You know, you never did tell me what happened that night.”
“That’s right, I didn’t,” Colin agreed.
They bought their tickets and Benedict wisely decided not to push him any further.
When they finally reached her store, Colin was feeling nervous. He was eager to see her but dreaded what kind of reception he was going to get.
He took a moment to take in the shop front. Twinkling lights were strung up around the large window and several tiny, decorated Christmas trees were spaced out along the bottom from corner to corner. She’d selected Christmas themed books for the display and the whole thing was colourful, warm and welcoming.
“Are you coming?” Benedict asked.
He was holding the door open and Colin nodded, following him inside. Penelope had bought the little bookstore a couple of years ago when the previous owner had passed away. As well as being able to purchase books, she’d added a small café area where people could sit and read certain exchange books if they chose. There was a real Christmas tree decorated in red and gold sitting in the corner of the café section where customers were seated at a couple of the tables she had there. A large golden star sat on top and the air was filled with the scent of pine and the sounds of quietly playing Christmas music.
More twinkling fairy lights adorned the wooden shelving lined with books around the store adding to the festive feel and, right at the back, Penelope was walking back behind her vintage looking sales counter.
The breath whooshed out of him seeing her for the first time since the party. His dreams didn’t do her justice. Her red hair hung in loose waves around her shoulders and she was wearing a novelty reindeer headband that jingled every time she moved. Over her cream jumper and black leggings, she wore an apron that was adorned with little gingerbread men.
And she looked bloody amazing.
He started walking before he even realised and Benedict followed close behind. She hadn’t seen them yet, engrossed as she was with making a drink for one of her customers. She turned just as they reached the counter and she let out a startled gasp, her eyes widening in shock before quickly narrowing again into a glare. A little bit of coffee spilled over the sides of the mug as she put it down on the tray with a thump.
“Damn it,” she muttered irately, breaking his gaze and looking down at the mess. She quickly grabbed a cloth and cleaned it up then looked over at Benedict and gave him a tight smile. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
Without even sparing Colin another glance, she walked off and Benedict let out a low whistle.
“I think it might be warmer outside,” he murmured in amusement.
Colin shot him an angry look and felt his stomach churn unpleasantly.  It was worse than he’d thought.
She came back and somehow he mustered a smile, not that she noticed. She focussed solely on Benedict as if he wasn’t even there.
“What can I get you?”
“Two teas please, Penelope,” he replied jovially.
She nodded. “To have in or take away?”
“Have in.”
“That’s great,” she replied, sounding like it was anything but. “Go and find a seat and I’ll bring them over in a minute.”
She turned away and the smile fell from Colin’s face. He felt as though he’d been punched in the gut. Had he really upset her that much?
“Come on,” Benedict urged as he grabbed his arm and led him away to a nearby table. Once they were seated he leaned forward and stared at Colin with a frown. “Alright, what did you do?”
Colin bristled at the accusation but he wasn’t about to tell his brother anything.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
Benedict scoffed at that and shook his head.
“Colin, I might be stupid, but I’m not blind…or deaf,” he quipped. “Anthony and I overheard some of what was said at the party. We just didn’t know who they were talking about.” He glanced over at Penelope. “I think I can guess now. I just can’t figure out why she’s angry with you. So I ask again, what did you do?”
“Benedict…”
“Oh!” he exclaimed suddenly, cutting him off. It was clear from his expression that he thought he’d figured it out and Colin drew in a sharp breath even though he knew he couldn’t possibly be right. “Oh no. Please don’t tell me that you’ve extended your ridiculous decision to swear off women to include Penelope now?”
Before Colin could even begin to formulate a response to that nonsense, a tray slammed down on the table between them. Cups rattled on their saucers and both men snapped to attention, gazing at her in surprise.
“Don’t worry, Benedict, it doesn’t include me,” she told the elder Bridgerton sweetly. “Didn’t you know? I’m not a woman, I’m a friend. I don’t count.”
Colin let out an audible gasp as heat flooded his face.
“You heard that?”
“You said that?” Benedict burst out, aghast.
Penelope finally looked Colin and hurt in her eyes nearly made him weep.
“Yes, he did,” she confirmed stiffly. “And then I heard you and Anthony coming so I left.”
His heart stuttered. She hadn’t heard everything, thank God, but it’d been enough.
“Pen…”
“Enjoy your tea,” she cut in far too brightly. “It’s on the house of course…as we’re friends.”
“Pen…” he tried again, more urgently this time. He reached for her hand, but she was quicker than him and turned and walked away.
Benedict gave him a censorious look and shook his head.
“You’re a bloody idiot, brother.”
He was. He really was. A blind and utter fool. And as desperately as he wanted to go to her and explain, he knew she wouldn’t appreciate it in front of her customers.
So, he would wait. Because now that he knew what she was really unhappy about, his heart had begun to fill with hope. Hope that their kiss had meant something to her as well.
The brothers took their leave after finishing their tea. Benedict had taken a moment to speak to Penelope but he didn’t tell Colin what he’d said and he hadn’t asked. He’d been too busy working out what he was going to say when he finally managed to talk to her.
And now, hours later, he was back across the road from her shop. She’d seen her last customer out and he headed over just as she locked the door. She froze when she saw him, her hand still on the lock.
“We’re closed,” she told him curtly, loud enough so he could hear.
“Pen, please, just let me in,” he pleaded, placing his hand on the handle. She stared back at him and he could see the conflicting emotions warring on her face. “Please,” he implored.
He saw the moment she relented and heaved a sigh of relief when she unlocked the door. He pushed it open, then locked it behind him and turned to see that she’d already made her way back to the other side of the sales counter.
Recognising that she wanted to keep some distance, he walked slowly over.
“What do you want?” she asked, crossing her arms and looking anywhere but at him.
“I want to explain.”
She let out a derisive snort.
“What’s to explain? I think you were perfectly clear.”
“You weren’t meant to hear that, Pen,” he told her unhappily. He hated that she’d misunderstood what he’d said.
“Oh, well, that makes it all better then, Colin,” she retorted snippily. “All is forgiven and now you can go.”
She grabbed a cloth and began to aggressively wipe down the counter even though it already looked spotless.
The movement caused her breasts to jiggle in a delightfully distracting way, drawing his gaze. He swallowed hard and closed his eyes. He needed to focus. When he opened them again, he kept his eyes firmly on her face and his heart clenched at the hurt he saw there. He reached out and gently placed his hand over hers, stopping her manic cleaning.
“Penelope, please, won’t you look at me?” he entreated softly.
She huffed out a sigh and reluctantly did as he asked, her blue eyes wary.
It was now or never.
“The only reason I said what I did was because I didn’t want Fife and the others to know our business. And I’m sorry, Pen. If I could take those words back, I would. I was stupid and thoughtless, but the truth is that you’re the only one that counts. You always have been.”
“What?” she murmured in disbelief
Colin clasped her other hand as well and gave her a small smile.
“Why do you think that it was that I didn’t include you when I said that I was swearing off all women? It was because I couldn’t bear the thought of going a day without hearing from you. Seeing you. But it was far easier to tell myself that you were only a friend than admit that you actually meant something far more dear to me.”
“Colin,” she breathed, “what are you saying?”
He drew in a steadying breath knowing that there was no turning back now. He’d hand her his heart and hope that she didn’t crush it.
“I’m saying that…I love you, Pen.”
She drew in a sharp breath and gazed at him in shock.
“You do?” she finally choked out.
He smiled and nodded.
“I do. Very much and for a very long time.”
She searched his face for the truth and he stared back at her, completely exposed, hiding nothing. Then, after a long moment she made her own confession that completely took his breath away.
“I love you, too, Colin. Always have. Always will.”
And then she started to smile and it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
“Can I come round there and kiss you now?” he asked urgently.
“I’ll meet you halfway.”
He grinned and let go of her hands then met her at the end of the counter and drew her into his arms.
As he leaned down to kiss her, she brought her hand up to his shoulder, staying his movement.
“Are you really sure you want to do this, Colin?” she asked with a teasing smile. “You can’t blame it on the mistletoe this time.”
He let out a surprised laugh and nodded.
“I’m positive. I’ll only be that kind of idiot once in my life.”
And then he kissed her.
It was slow and sweet and felt like coming home.
And suddenly, there in the arms of the woman he loved, Colin Bridgerton’s world tipped back onto its axis and righted itself once more.
THE END
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yeeterthek33per · 1 year ago
Text
New Beginnings and Interesting Reads
Mary Fowler x Reader
Requested by Anon
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Honestly, she'd thought she could get away with not stopping to check on the little red light on her dash. It was just blinking so incessantly that she wanted desperately to have it just go away.
Who would have thought the great Mary Fowler, Australian Matildas Footballer, was one to ignore her car screaming at her until it forced her to pull over.
So now, she was stuck on foot, walking around a tiny ass town on the outskirts of Manchester after having it towed to the local mechanic. It wasn't tiny tiny, after all, there was, in fact, a mechanic.
There were a few dotted shops here and there, and there was a main street with a couple of grocery stores and various goods and services fronts. One that, for some reason, stood out to her was a rustic little two storey building. Standing out from the modernised concreting of the other stores surrounding it.
As she walked up to the door, she could see it was a bookstore. Books were lining the windows of varying conditions and colours.
The Rugged Pages.
Huh. Seems like something from a fantasy universe. Perfect way to kill time.
A little bell chimes when she steps in the store with a little push of the door. It's only a few seconds before a smiling employee greets her from behind one the many book laden wooden shelves.
She greets the employee back but doesn't really get a good look at them because she's too preoccupied looking around at the interior of the place.
It's a much bigger interior than she expected. Instead of a full second floor, there's a balcony that wraps around the outer walls and a set of what looks like mahogany stairs leading up from the far left. The centre of it opens up to peer into the upper ceiling and the walls of bookshelves that line the balcony.
There's dozens of shelves downstairs, with varying genres of books and age grouped stories. Starting with the kids' section towards the front and the more adult esque reads towards the far wall.
The oak counter is sat towards the far right of the back wall, a doorway just set in behind it leading in to what Mary assumes is a back/storage room.
"Is there anything I can help you with, miss?"
The accent is shockingly familiar to the aussie. A smile creeps onto her face as she gets a full look of the person behind the australian accent.
Shoulder-length hair pulled up into a high bun with a midlength undercut that looks like it hasnt been shaved down in a few weeks. A pair of plastic framed country road glasses sit on your face, and you're wearing a loose-fitting red flannel shirt tied at the waist with a browny looking red shirt underneath. It's paired together with some black jeans and a pin tacked to the outer pocket on your flanno. The pin has your name on it surrounded by intricate metal flows and vines.
It reads "Hi! My name is Y/n."
"Hey, no, I'm all good, just browsing."
You nod softly with a small smile. You tilt your head back towards where you're loading a big box of books onto some of the smaller shelves designed for kids towards the front of the store.
"Let me know if you need anything."
Mary nods softly before moving to peruse one of the shelves in with it marked 'LGBTQIA+'.
The shelf is lined with varying titles and fronts. There's markers every few books. 'MLM' 'WLW' 'Bisexual Romance' 'Chaotic Ace' (That one makes her snicker a little) 'WLW Mystery' and many other categories. She picks out a title that sticks out to her. 'The Shattered Lands' by Brenda Nation. Perfect, that will do.
She peruses a bit longer in other sections but eventually makes her way to the counter where you pop out from your spot, loading books up.
"Ah, the Shattered Lands, that's a good read. From tiktok?" A little confused, Mary shakes her head.
"No, I.. I just thought it might be interesting." You raise your brow slightly. A smile pulls at your lips.
"I'm glad then. The only time anyone buys this one is if they're fans of the author from tiktok. It's nice to see someone pick it up for the genuine interest. It was a good one to read. If you have the time, there's a little reading corner just by the window if you like."
Mary glances over. It's a comfy little nook with couches and multiple cushions, both on the floor and on the seating. She is killing time at the moment, and she mentions as such, agreeing to stay for a bit to read the book. It was gonna be a few hours before she had to go get her car again. The mechanic said she'd call Mary when the car was fixed. She's lucky. She's got a few days yet before she has anything she needs to do urgently.
"Actually, I might take you up on that offer, I'm stuck here til my car gets fixed, so I've got plenty of time to kill."
You nod in understanding, "Make yourself comfy." As you gesture to the lounge area.
She manages to bury herself into the book for about an hour, various people coming and going, some regulars that she hears you greet with a warm smile and playful tone, most new customers travelling through looking for some quick picks to read on their travels, which you greet with a bright smile and help guide them to what they're looking for.
Eventually, though, she's left feeling a little stiff and eventually gets up to wander the shelves. She finds you reading a book yourself at the counter, having completed stacking any new deliveries for the day. You look up at her as she does so, eyes following her over the top of the pages.
"So what's got you coming through here? Travelling from home? Doesn't sound too much like you're from around this area."
Her eyes crinkle with a laugh as she approaches and sits on one of the stools placed underneath the countertop.
"No, I'm just in from Manchester, I live and work there for eight months out of the year, I am from Australia though, just moved for the job, I take it you were too?"
You nod, "Little podunk set of towns in NSW. Moved up north for the opportunity with a business partner of mine. Ended up owning this place instead. Plus, the women's soccer is nice to have available to watch."
Mary blushes a little at that. Did you know?
You chuckle a little, blushing a bit yourself, oops. "Yeah, sorry, I didn't wanna call you out like that. I knew who you were, just didn't wanna bring it up on you, keep work at work, that kind of thing."
She laughs at that, shaking her head.
"Honestly, thank you for that. It's nice to have a little time to myself without any professionalism. Don't worry, though. You had me fooled for a good bit."
Your eyes sparkle with a little playfulness. "Happy to be of service, m'lady." Before continuing. "How're you liking the book so far?"
Mary, to her credit, actually had been enjoying the book, but she couldn't sit still long enough to read anymore.
"It's been pretty good, I got up to the bit about Sapphire going to find the red-haired witch in the forest to ask about what she might know about her origins."
"Ah, you're in for a treat then. The book keeps you on your toes, though."
"Right? There are so many twists already."
"But I'm guessing you're getting a little fidgety there?"
Her nose scrunches up a little, and she sheepishly nods. "Not much of a sitter I've come to discover."
You nod, biting your lip a little. "Would you wanna take a walk around town for a bit? I've got a lunch break for an hour or so. I figured, since you've time and all."
You pause to wait for a bit before backtracking again, a little flustered. "Not that you have to, I just thought you might wanna get out of here for a bit. Come look at some of the cafes with me."
Mary smiles and nods a little more enthusiasticly than she likes. "Absolutely, of course, but I wouldn't want to take up your time."
"Absolutely not, I'm offering. I kinda wanna learn more about you."
She smiles back, nodding, and you begin grabbing your stuff before leading her out of the store and locking the place up temporarily with an "on break" sign posed in the window.
You walk beside her for a few blocks, chatting idly about the town and its aspects. "There's a few places I go to when I forget to buy food for work, which today happens to be one of those days."
You lead her to a cozy little coffee shop. Inside, it's a bit warmer, and the smell of brewing liquid life permeates the air. You nod at the barista working the register. "That's Em, my most likely future best man."
Emily looks up at you as you enter. "Look who it is, ratbag. In for the morning usual?"
You shake your head amused, "Yeah, Em, and another one for the new girl."
"Hi, how are you? I'm Emily."
"Hey, nice to meet you, I'm doing pretty good, keeping this one busy, it seems."
"I'm showing her the good places to hit up in town, just getting coffee first. How do you want your coffee?"
Mary gives her order to Em, who starts working on the two beveridges right away. As you wait, she asks about the reason in particular for this town.
"Cause she can't get enough of this!" Emily yells out from behind the machine.
You roll your eyes at the barista. "Nah, you're a pain in the ass."
"You love this ass."
"Too much sometimes, honestly, why are we friends again?"
She gives you a mock offended look, clutching at invisible pearls.
You chuckle and turn back to the striker beside you. "The opportunity was there. The place was cheap, and a quick fix. Plus, the people here are okay."
Emily interjects, waving you both over.
"Actually, the people here are really nice. This one's just an asshole." She winks at Mary as she says it.
"Don't listen to her. She's just jealous cause she can't get a date in a town with a population of two hundred."
Mary raises a brow at that.
"A date?"
You flush quickly realising what you said. "I mean, it was more of a-"
"Nice going sweetheart'."
You whip your head around at the girl behind the counter. "Shut up."
Mary's head tilts back in a laugh. "If you wanted this to be a date, all you had to do was ask."
Your mouth drops open at that, and Emily laughs at your expression. Mary smirks as she picks up her drink and walks to the door, gesturing for you both to keep moving.
"I like this one, keep her around for me!"
Em calls after you, and you turn to glare at the blonde.
This woman certainly has you on your toes.
Your cheeks are basically pinker than they've ever been but you follow regardless, a little sheepish if anything.
You rub at your neck as you both slowly stroll around the corner, away from view. "Sorry about that, I just kind of assumed and I-"
"Ask me."
You look up at her confused.
"Ask me, you want it to be a date, ask me."
Your bite your lower lip trying to hold back from a massive grin.
"Will you join me in this fine, fine hour and go on a date with me?"
"Nah."
Your head does a double take before the girl chuckles and shakes her head.
"I'm kidding, of course I will."
You sigh in relief. You didn't wanna miss this opportunity. She's gorgeous, she plays your favourite sport for a living, she likes to read and she lives relatively close to you. It's nice not to have to be stuck in a one sided long distance relationship. Woah, hold your horses, hasn't gotten that far yet.
"Great, then I've got a great place we can go to, just give me a few minutes while I go lock up for the day, a half hour isn't long enough to be honest."
You're gone for about ten minutes, and you come back to Mary back inside the cafe, chatting with your friend.
"Hey, sorry about that, ready to go?"
Mary nods, and Emily waves you both goodbye.
She slips her arm around yours. You're slightly shorter than her, so it's a little weird at first, but you eventually settle into the hold.
You both walk to another section of town. There, you bring her to a place that looks like a little sandwich shop with a massive arcade attached to it. You tell her about your first encounter here. The place looked decent and turned out to be pretty good. Good enough that you were back on the regular.
"Hey, Y/n, usual today?"
Georgie greets you from behind the register.
"Not today, I'm with someone for a few hours."
"Ah, gotcha. What would you like love?"
Mary hums for a second, browsing over the menu. You watch as she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth for a second, and you realise you're staring when she looks back at the cashier. "I'll have a number 12 and a water, please." "Coming right up, hon, and for you L/n?"
"I'll take a number 5 today, please."
"No mayo, extra pickles with a sunkist?"
"You got it."
"16 pound 50 today love."
You're quick to jump in and tap your card before Mary pulls her phone out. She pouts at you, and you chuckle. "I asked you out."
"Only because I told you to." You stick your tongue out at that cheekily. "I wanted to."
Your food comes quickly, and you find a table in the corner, away from the door and any large windows.
The food is amazing as per usual, and the look on Mary's face agrees with that from her first bite. The food is always good here.
"Good, right?"
She groans, "You're kidding, right? How do they make sandwiches taste so good?"
You chuckle and shrug, "No idea, must be that southern English love."
"I swear my nutritionist is gonna kill me, that and my bank account."
"Yeah, I tend to avoid this part of town most days because if I even get close to this place, I can't resist a good teriyaki chicken club."
You finish your food and drinks, and you pull her up with a giddy grin as you lead her into the arcade and grab a loaded up card from your pocket.
"The food is amazing, but the games are pretty close. Come on, I wanna see what we can win today."
You spend the better part of two hours in there, ranging from a basketball hoop shooter to the Mario Kart racer. Turns out, Mary is really good at arcade games. And it turns competitive quite a few times.
In the end, you come away with a combined 2000 tickets.
Which is honestly pretty good for two people in that amount of time. With that, you both pick out a few lollies and a stuffed bear in a soccer uniform, which you all too happily hand over to her. (*It may have cost a few thousand more than you actually earned, but she doesn't need to know that you dipped into your saved tickets for it*)
In the end, the date slows down to a slow stroll around town in the late afternoon. And it's only when she finally gets a call from the mechanic that it has to come to an end.
You walk her back to just outside the mechanics while she picks up her car and pays for the repairs. She's parked it just on the street outside the bookshop while you two talk for a bit.
"Guess this is it for the night, then?" You ask tentatively, shuffling a little.
Mary smiles softly and nods a little.
"Yeah, I have to get back to Manchester with this stuff. And I've got teammates waiting for me to get back as well."
You nod in understanding. You're a little upset about the date ending, but you don't show it.
"Thank you for agreeing to come out with me today."
"Hey, pretty girl asks me out, I'm not gonna say no. Besides, I'm definitely gonna be back. I wouldn't wanna miss out on a second date. And a chance to pay you back for the bear as well." There's a twinkle in her eye that says she damn well knows how much you spent on her earlier, and you blush a little.
"So there's a second date?" You ask with raised brow.
"If you'll have me."
"Without a doubt." You answer without hesitation. Mary grins and grabs your hands in hers. She pulls you into her, and you grin, leaning up. She meets you halfway with a soft kiss to your lips.
It sends tingles down your spine, and her hands running up and down your arms leave goosebumps in their wake, making you shiver a little.
It deepens for a second before you take a step back, stopping yourself from holding her hostage here any longer and going any further than you should.
"You're amazing, you know that?"
It has her grinning, and she scrunches her nose adorably. Her hand finds yours to squeeze it a few times before she presses one last kiss to your lips and bids you farewell.
"I'll message you soon, pretty girl, I want that second date I was promised."
"Wouldn't miss it for the world, drive safe, cutie."
She waves goodbye and drives off, heading in the direction of the highway, going back to Machester.
You can still feel the tingle of lips against yours, the feel of her fingertips on your skin, and it leaves you keening for more, despite her being long gone. You'd have to keep an eye out on your phone now.
As Mary's cruising along the highway, all she can think about is how your lips felt against hers. How you'd grinned at her when she'd pulled you in to meet her against the side of her car. How easy the two of you just settled into easy banter and how open you seemed to be with her. You were definitely someone she didn't want to let go of just yet.
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valjeancrazylover2 · 25 days ago
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So... Who's Gérard?
Thinking about his stupid ass so I'm making a post LOLLL
If you saw my post about Marius' friends, you'll have read about the infamous Gérard Ambroise - hes a bit mysterious, a bit of a dickhead, but sticks around regardless. So.... who is he exactly , you might be asking?
Pre-note.... shoutout to @24601orwhatever as per usual for helping me develop all of this and being the one to suggest gérard be canonised in the first place! he wouldn't be alive without you! most of what you will read below in the byronverse section will probably have been suggested or , like. "yes, and"-ed by him. THANKYOUUUU!
Let's begin ! (this is going to be a bit long, sorry.)
FROM THE META ANGLE:
For those who are not part of the like, 5 people worldwide who are In The Know (or maybe there are actually people who pay attention to my deranged rants on my main blog, i dunno), Gérard is, technically, an actual character in Les Mis. Officially he is an unnamed student, and has some iconic lines such as Our world! and Marius, sit down!. You may also spot him at the start of the ABC café scene seemingly arguing with enjolras centre stage.
The character who runs that track is not called gérard of course, though i call every actor who covers or plays the role in previous productions "Fake Gérard"s. Gérard is ONLY Gérard when played by Jordan Simon Pollard, on the West End. He's even in the programme, twice!
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Here's some more pictures, with his iconic glasses. (Didn't have em in the programme for some reason.)
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The surname Ambroise is completely invented by me. The name Gérard however, the man himself told me, for which I am eternally grateful Thanku hero
And thats basically all there is to know about the "canon" character, other than funny little details i spot. Keep an eye out for him. His track runs usually further offstage so you might miss some of the drama (or him completely if you're watching a bootleg) but if you're like me you probably prefer to watch whatever the fuck the ensemble are doing instead of the leads (sorry, enjolras).
SO IT'S PROBABLY IMPORTANT TO MENTION that the Gérard in the show and the Gérard in my head are two different guys. The interpretation I have of his character comes from my insane mind flanderising little interactions into oblivion until he became this man with a personality like sandpaper. The interpretation that Jordan Simon Pollard himself has on the character is most definitely entirely different. If he somehow sees this, sorry promise i'm normal.
That brings us to...
THE BYRONVERSE ANGLE:
In the brick, i think its mentioned that 5 students escaped, disguised as national guardsmen? well... regardless...... somehow Gérard survived, a slightly meta inside joke about the fact that the first time i was actually paying attention to him in a show, i lost track of where he was on the barricade and he seemingly just vanished and therefore theoretically could have survived the barricade. However the last time i saw him he did indeed take a bullet to the face (while screaming insults, might i add). My canon doesn't follow brick canon word for word anyway, as i like some details of other adaptations better and they work better with my characterisation - whatever. not important right now ,, kinda ,,,
anyway, gérard was one of les amis d'ABC, obviously. A law student, like marius, but cared more about activism, politics and debate than he did his degree, hence joining the revolution. he locked horns with enjolras a fair bit, but was not all that outspoken or loud, usually preferring to keep his head down and judge the rowdy students from afar, shaking his head in silent disapproval.
During the rebellion, suddenly he was faced with the reality that he may very well die, but was still determined for the cause and fought hard, gaining himself a nasty scar to the jaw and a few injuries here and there , yknow, the normal stuff. (another slightly meta note here, in the show, i dont know whether it's jordan not being able to act firing a musket or what, but i first interpreted his shooting during the Attacks to be him looking away from where he was shooting before he fired. this was probably me misinterpreting a very quick glimpse i saw, but whatever, #adoptingintomybeliefsystem.
He got out alive, laid low for a bit, continued his habit of wall-hugging everywhere he went, returned to his studies as a student. His injuries were not so grave like marius' that he took significant time in bed, plus he's a stubborn bastard so would've been up and about anyway if he didn't have anyone to play dramatics around for sympathy.
Emotional scarring however WAS there, of course, and caused him to become a lot more withdrawn and bitter. He became highly defensive and generally abrasive. If he was not a people person before, he certainly was not now. I suppose that's his way of trying to keep his identity low to avoid, yknow.. getting arrested for being an insurgent. just glower at everybody so they leave you alone.
He met marius completely by coincidence - if you read my last post, and as you'll find out if you read the fic when it releases, he was drawn in kind of against his will by Marius' friend René (another law student who dngaf about the law, just wanted to meet people and get the gossip) who saw his Mysterious Aura and got chatting. Gérard noticed something familiar about Marius and vice versa, and found them strangely drawn to each other.
They find each other utterly annoying. They cannot be left in the same room or marius will feel so awkward he will literally fold up and gérard will burst a blood vessel. Gérard will not shut up about politics, which reminds Marius of Enjolras, which brings back memories, which- its just a whole mess. but they have a warriors bond nobody else understands.
and thats the gist, i guess?
so its time for my favourite part ...
INCONSEQUENTIAL CHARACTER DETAILS THAT I THINK ARE FUNNY
He's an absolute train wreck of a guy, as i'm sure you've already gathered. he's rude, unpleasant, a repressed homosexual and an outspoken radical.
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Another little meta joke - there's another ensemble character Jordan Simon Pollard plays in les mis. another unnamed character, but he in fact gets TWO lines, in the intro to Master of the House - "Landlord, over here!" and "God, this place has gone to hell!". He told me this character is called Willy Wonka, so we'll call him wonka for now, because previously i was calling him Tall Jean or Jean 3, and willy wonka i fear is more insane and also the OFFICIAL name from the guy himself so who's to argue.
anyway my point - Gérard has a brother. i'm sure you guessed it's wonka. we did indeed canonise that connection, for a laugh .
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Yes the only official photo of him has luke's arm in the way. Oh well! You know it's wonka because of the red coat and brown hat. yknow... like willy wonka...
Anyway. his deal. sometimes in the show he will pull out some perfume and spray himself, so let's assume he's a) gay b) into perfume. He seems to be a much more amiable guy than his brother, chatting with other patrons at thenardier's inn (and even sometimes flirting with other men. saw him sit on a dude's lap once. most recently a guy came up to him while he was stood in the doorway gayly and the guy dragged a finger down wonka's stomach seductively. sometimes he dances with the ladies too, so he's either a gay for the girlies or bisexual, you choose) and even dancing around and joining the festivities, overall having a GREAT time , GOD he is SO fun to watch onstage i can HIGHLY recommend. he's tall, dressed in red, camp, and always smiling, he's hard not to miss.
Him and gérard don't really talk. He won't come up much in future, but he's here and he's queer!
(there has been some discussion of other JSP ensemble characters being relatives of Gérard, such as the wedding guest in Beggars at the Feast - who thenardier flirted with and nearly kissed last time i saw the show - but none of it has been wholly funny enough to be canonised at all. From a byronverse standpoint, Marius did not know Gérard at the time of his wedding, PROBABLY? timeline is still, uh, nonexistent?)
(the timeline issue also struggles with wonka's age in relation to Gérard's, becuase obviously Master of the House is 15ish years before the ABC café, so should wonka be significantly older than his brother....? yes. probably. but i don't think about it too hard. he's just......... older than gérard by a nondescript amount of time.. it's not really important and i can tweak stuff to make it work, WHATEVERR)
AND LASTLY, the funniest shit ever, the Gérard Ambroise situationships.
When jordan was on with milan valjean, they'd talk and interact during drink with me off to the side. I'll let you make your own assumptions there.
As mentioned, he's a repressed homosexual. he is in close quarterd with the aforementioned (some time ago) René Gignac, who is VERY camp, very effeminate, participates in the homosexual underground of Paris, the WORKS. Gérard has very conflicting feelings about this man, because on one hand René just LOVES to rile him up by saying purposefully stupid things whenever Gérard makes a political comment. and he can't just back down.
he assumes the hotness he feels in his body is to do with the anger, surely nothing more.
Anyway they at some point get together, its weird, its uncomfortable and awkward, they break up. and get together. and break up. and get together. and this repeats, like, a thousand times throughout the time they know each other. literally the WORST couple ever, to the point where everyone kind of loses track of whether they're together or not, because it's really hard to discern when they are, becuase Gérard is a bit ashamed and René is purposefully trying to piss him off.
René this whole time also has a crush on one of the other members of the friend group, Albéric, but this is mostly superficial and he just thinks he's hot . Albéric is not interested and René knows and respects this, however this does not stop him from pretending Gérard is Albéric whenever they kiss.
There's not much to it. it's textbook toxic yaoi .
it does get funnier however when René does, one day, meet Gérard's brother WHO you will remember is also effeminate and likes perfume - just like René. Needless to say they get on SWIMMINGLY, wonka probably sells rené a perfume or two, and ultimately get together. René does not tell Gérard this. he does however find out because René is wearing Gérard's older brother's perfumes, and Gérard is furious . you can imagine the kind of argument that'd follow.
Whether rené and wonka end up happy i DON'T know. havent thought that far but it was the funniest outcome to me after the disaster that was rené and gérard's "relationship".
ANYWAY! thats all i have to say on this freak. hope this was at all comprehensible. here's an audio clip of one of his wonderful lines in Red & Black.
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optikestrav · 10 months ago
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Ardagh Chalice
The Ardagh Chalice is one of the greatest treasures of the early Irish Church. It is part of a hoard of objects found in the 19th century by a young man digging for potatoes near Ardagh, Co. Limerick. It was used for dispensing Eucharistic wine during the celebration of Mass. The form of the chalice recalls late Roman tableware, but the method of construction is Irish.
The bowl and foot of the chalice are made of spun silver. The outer side of the bowl is decorated with applied gold, silver, glass, amber and enamel ornament. The underside of the foot is also highly decorated and contains a polished rock crystal at the centre.
The bowl is attached to the stem and foot by a bronze pin. The names of eleven apostles and St. Paul are inscribed below the band of gold filigree and studs encircling the bowl. The letters are seen against a stippled background. Incised animal decoration can also be seen below two handle escutcheons, which are decorated with elaborate glass studs and filigree panels.
The Ardagh Chalice represents a high point in early medieval craftsmanship and can be compared in this regard to the Tara Brooch and the Derrynaflan Paten.
text: National Museum of Ireland
c8th century, silver, gilt copper, gold filigree, gold, gilt bronze, silver, polychrome glass, amber, rock crystal, 18 cm high, 19.5 cm in diameter at the rim, found in a hoard in the ringfort of Reerasta, near Ardagh, County Limerick, Ireland
https://smarthistory.org/the-ardagh-chalice/
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dreamcast641 · 5 months ago
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RAINBOW SIX OC: Lilja Järvinen
there it is a bit with lilja's bio that for sure it will not be completed fully as I want to make a sort of bio like r6s operators in future plus she doesnt have a reference draw for her yet so...I'll reblog if any change is made :D --------------------------------- GENERAL INFOS
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Full name: Lilja Järvinen
aliases/nicknames: One of the first thing that Harry did as soon as she joined the rainbow six is to think about how to refer to her and ''hound'' was what came into his mind immediately. Later then Lilja decided to just translate it into her native language, becoming it ''koira''but she likes the hound one as well
Age: around 30-35 years old
Gender: cis Female
Pronouns: she/her
Sexual orientation: Unknown, probably bisexual
Date of birth: April 30th
Place of birth: Kemijärvi, Laplan, finland
Current residence: Unknown
Nationality: finnish
Spoken languages: Finnish(main), Swedish(second one learned) and english
Affiliations/organizations: Rainbow six, utti jager regiment, finnish army
Occupation: K-9 operative with certification got with training and working with police and army dogs and robotic engineer with a egree in automation engineering, computer engineering
Rank: Unknown
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(temporary reference)
APPEARANCE
By the national average, Lilja is a rather short woman who stands at around 166 cm tall. She is slim and athletic, with messy blonde hair, freckles scattered across her cheeks and nose, and eyes with partial heterochromia on both irises that are both blue and brown in color, which are easily distinguishable between the two. She is the one who usually wears heavy, long clothes that are uncomfortable when it comes to grabbing objects and that hide her body well. She wears glasses because she is astigmatic, which she removes to use contact lenses when she has to work in the field. more facts about her aspect: -Lilja has a lot of bite wounds on her body, done of course by the dogs she worked in the past with most of them being reactive ones that easily snapped when something even small bothered them. The most visible one is on her left cheek that resembles a two cut done by a feline instead of a dog and people usually asks her how could a dog do such damage; -She always wanted a tattoo on her left cheek that resembled a dog jaw but changed her mind when she wasn't allowed to do so in the army. -She doesn't hide her body due to insecurity, in fact, she also can wear swimming costumes and bikinis, she just prefers baggy clothes over normal ones.
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Favorites and personality traits
-Color: Mint green
-Food: Lihapullat (finnish meatballs)
-Drink: Hot chocolate
-Song: Killer by Mareux
-Flower: Lilly of the valley
-Hairstyle: wolfcut Moral alignment: Chaotic good MBTI: INTP Personality overview:
Lilja is a reserved woman by nature, she doesn't like to talk to people too much and generally prefers to be alone. Sometimes she seems detached and lost in her thoughts, it almost seems like her brain is constantly working, constantly creating new thoughts. Which isn't necessarily a bad thing, as she always has new ideas that she can implement in the form of robotic objects useful to her team. She seems to prefer small speeches to long, deep ones, which is often not in good taste with other operators and those in command, but she often ignore the thoughts of others. This doesn't mean she's a totally insensitive person, she just doesn't know how to relate to people without seeming weird, which leads her to avoid social situations most of the time.
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BASIC INFOS AS RAINBOW SIX OPERATOR:
Name: Lilja ''hound/koira''Järvinen Side: defender Squad: Nighthaven (she probably joined them because they were more willing to fund her projects) Speciality: Anti-gadget, Intel and trapper Unity: Utti jaeger regiment support battalion/support company-trains conscripts in support tasks and handles logistics in cooperation with the Logistics Centre.
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OPERATOR ICON:
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BASIC LOADOUT
Primary weapons: -Assault rifle, RK 95
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-9.00 submachine gun 2000
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-pump-action shotgun remington police
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Secondary weapon:
-Pistol 80/Pistol 80-91
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Gadgets
-Smoke grenade -Frag grenade -Claymore
LOADOUT PART 2: Unique ability:
''K-9 puppies'' Highly intelligent robotic dogs with different speciality based on the selected one. They can be used as attack weapons, anti gadget, trapper or intel. They are all comanded by a tablet which makes you vulnerable to the attackers that can sneak and kill you. The robotic dogs are not vulnerable to bulletts or explosives. BIOGRAPHY
COMING SOON PSYCHOLOGICAL REPORT: COMING SOON
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canirove · 3 months ago
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Rice, Rice, baby | Chapter 34
Previous chapter | Epilogue
Masterlist
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“I am so happy you are back, Liv” Olga says while hugging me for the millionth time. “You don’t know how much I’ve missed you.”
“Have you?” I chuckle. “Because Madders has told me that you’ve been a bit busy with a certain blonde from The Netherlands.”
“Who, me?”
“Yep.”
“Well, I mean…” she says as she lets go of me, her cheeks bright red. “Micky is really nice. And hot. And blonde. And tall. And it is really hard to find someone who has all that and that treats you well, so when you do…”
“You don’t let them go.”
“Yeah…” she says with a shy smile. “Is that what you’ve done with Declan? Though I'm not planning on getting pregnant any time soon to catch Micky like a Pokémon.” 
“Olga!” I laugh. 
“I'm kidding, Liv. I know you didn't catch Declan or anything like that. You aren't  that type of woman.”
“Olga!” I repeat.
“Sorry, I'm sorry. But you aren't letting him go, are you?”
“Nope” I smile. “I am not.”
“I love seeing you this happy, Liv. I truly do. I know I haven't been the biggest Declan fan out there and rightly so, but… I'm really happy for you. For both of you.”
“Thank you” I say, trying to not get emotional, which is what I’ve done the most since I arrived for my first day back at work.
“Oh, they are coming. Ready?”
“Ready” I say, taking a deep breath.
“There she is! My favourite barista!” Madders smiles, walking towards us.
“Hello, James.”
“You don’t know how much I’ve missed your coffees, Liv. No one makes them like you.”
“So that’s why you’ve been playing like shit while I’ve been away, uh? My coffees are what make you good” I tease him.
“Ha ha ha…” he replies, rolling his eyes. “Anyway, can I please get my usual?”
“You… Hello, there.” 
“Hello” Declan smiles. Because my first day back to work happens to be during international break, and once again, the national team is staying at Tottenham's training centre. And while Declan and I smile at each other like two idiots, I can't help but remember the day we met.
We were standing in the same spot we are now, Madders getting impatient next to us while I got lost in the most beautiful blue eyes I had ever seen, my stomach doing funny things that I hadn't felt before and that after everything that has happened between us and that we've gone through since that day, still are there when he looks at me. 
“What can I get you?”
“Same as I always, please” he says, still smiling.
“Umm, excuse me, Deccers. I ordered first.”
“Yes, Madders. You did. But I'm her boyfriend and the father of her son. I go first.”
“And I'm her older brother and the godfather of her son” he replies.
“I still win” Declan shrugs. “Liv, will you be staying during today's meeting?”
“That's the plan” I say, finishing his order.
“Good. I've got some news to share.”
“Some… news?” I ask.
“You aren't going to propose here at the cafeteria, are you?” Madders laughs. “You can do better than that, Rice.”
“I am not, no” Declan replies, rolling his eyes. “It is something else, you'll see. Thank you for the coffee, Liv. I love you” he says, moving over the counter to kiss my cheek.
“Love you too” I giggle.
“Any idea about what those news could be? Liv… Liv… Olivia!”
“Fucking hell, Madders! Was that really necessary?” I say after he claps in front of my nose.
“It was. You were completely gone while looking at Declan.”
“I wasn't” I snort.
“You were” Olga says next to me.
“I… Ok, fine. What if I was, uh? I would like to see you two if Kennedy and Micky were here looking all perfect and cuddly with their soft bed hair that is asking you to run your hands through it and a smile that makes your knees feel like jelly and… bloody hell” I gasp.
“What happened now?”
“Nothing.”
“Liv, are you ok?” Olga asks me.
“Yes, I… I… I'm gonna go get myself a glass of water, I'll be back in a minute.”
“And my coffee?” Madders complains.
“Ask Olga to make it for you” I say, looking back at Declan one last time before walking into the kitchen and take a deep breath. 
He had done it again. Declan had done the same things that had made me fall head over heels for him the day we first met. He had sat down on the same sofa, sipping his coffee, and making a face that back then had me wondering if it was the same face he made when he was thoroughly enjoying something (spoiler alert: it is). Then he had looked at me, mouthing best coffee ever with that smile that he knew made me weak, and then… then he had winked. Just like he had done that first day as I walked away and looked back at him one last time… He had winked at me, and I had lost it. I had completely lost it.
“You are so lame, Olivia” I chuckle while getting myself that very needed glass of water. 
Almost three years have passed, and Declan still manages to make me feel the same things. To make me feel like a stupid teenager in love for the first time. But if I'm being honest… I hope he never stops making me feel like that. Stupidly in love with him. 
━━━━━━❃━━━━━━
“Ok, is everyone here? Good” Southgate says as the last player sits down in front of him. “So, as you all know, our next game is a very important one. We need to beat France if we want to be on top of our classification group for the Euros. And as you also already know, that day we won't be able to have Harry with us as our leader due to injury, which means we need a new one.”
“A new leader?” Olga whispers with a confused look.
“A new captain” I whisper back.
“Oh…”
“After discussing it with him, my staff, and the other captains, we've decided it is time to give someone new a chance to lead England on the pitch” Southgate continues. “The person we've chosen is someone who has been familiar with this role since a very young age, someone who has everything a captain is required to have. And that someone is…” he says, pausing to give it some kind of dramatic effect and looking around all his players. “Declan.”
“Oh my God” I gasp definitely way too loud, some players looking my way while others are already cheering for Declan and congratulating him.
“Liv, are you ok? You are shaking” Olga says.
“Yes, yes, don't worry” I reply. “I just that this… he…”
“This is big, isn't it? For him and his career.”
“You can't even imagine” I say, my eyes fixed on Declan while he shakes hands and hugs everyone in that unique way he does where he makes you feel like the most important person in the world. Madders words, not mine. Though he isn't wrong.
“Olivia, would you like to join us?” Southgate says, now every single person in the cafeteria looking my way.
“I… I mean… I…” 
“We'll meet later. In private” Declan says, stopping my mumbling.
“In private, uh?” someone that I could swear sounded like Madders says behind him, some of his teammates laughing and making him roll his eyes.
“Ok boys, that's enough. Time to go get ready for training” Southgate says.
“In private, uh?” Olga repeats next to me once all the boys have left, a stupid smirk on her face.
“You too?”
“Sorry, Liv” she shrugs. “But it sounded like you are going to celebrate the good news by practicing how to give Ollie a little brother or sister.”
“We… whatever. I'm gonna go get some more napkins, we've run out of them.”
“Sure, Liv. Sure” Olga chuckles as I walk away.
━━━━━━❃━━━━━━
“What the…” I say when someone pushes me back into the storage room as I try to leave it. “Declan?”
“Hello” he smiles, picking the box of napkins that had fallen from my hands and leaving it on a shelf.
“What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be getting ready for training?”
“I am ready” he says, looking down at his clothes. “And I am wearing your favourite piece from our training kit.”
“You are, yes” I say, my eyes fixed on his legs. Or his hips area if we are being accurate. God bless the person at Nike who designed those leggings that leave no room for imagination. 
“Aren't you going to say anything?”
“About your leggings? You know what I think of them.”
“I was talking about the news, Olivia” he smirks.
“Oh… that.”
“Yes, that” Declan says, taking a step forward and cornering me a bit more against the wall. “Aren't you proud of your boyfriend?”
“Very proud.”
“Then why don't you show him how proud you are?” he asks.
“Declan, I'm not going to do what you are thinking at my workplace and on my first day back.”
“Why not?” he says, moving even closer and basically trapping me between his body and the wall. He isn't touching me, he only did it when he pushed me back inside the storage room. But I can feel the heat coming from his body and mine, everything he's made me feel since day started coming back and… dear lord.
“What if someone walks in? I told Olga I was coming here, and she already implied that you saying that we were going to meet in private meant that we… we…”
“Well, she wasn't wrong” he shrugs. “But if you don't want to do it, we won't” he says, taking a few steps back.
“Thank you.”
“I guess I should probably get going. I'm one of the captains now, I must lead by example” he says, running a hand through his hair. And that simple gesture that he does all the time and that by now he definitely knows turns me on… that's what undones me. “Liv?” he gasps when I push him against the opposite wall. “What are you doing?”
“You are one of the captains now, aren't you?” I say, teasingly moving my hand over his chest.
“That's what I just said, yes.”
“And you also said that you must lead by example” I say, my hand now moving down on him.
“Yes” he gulps, his body tensing under my touch.
“Then show me” I say, looking down at where my fingers are playing with the hem of his leggings. “I can already see how much you want to do it, but I would much rather like to… feel it.”
“Liv…” Declan whispers.
“Do it. Show me how you lead… Captain Rice” I smirk. 
The moment those last two words leave my mouth, it's like something changes in him. He has never looked at me the way he is now, as if he wants to… to… How do people say it online? Oh, yes. To ruin me.
“You asked for it, Miss Chapman” he says, lifting me in the air and pushing me against the wall in a swift move, my legs and arms wrapping around him. 
“How long until you have to be outside?” I whisper against his lips.
“Enough to show you how good I am at leading. Are you ready?” he says, moving his hips against mine and making me gasp.
“Yes, captain. My captain” I manage to reply before he kisses me and shows me that, indeed, he knows how to lead. 
━━━━━━❃━━━━━━
“Here he comes! England's captain, Declan Rice!” Jordan says when he joins us on the pitch after the game, Connor cheering for him. 
“Yeah, yeah, yeah” Declan chuckles before hugging them. 
“We are so proud of you” his mum says, also hugging him.
“That was a really good game, Rice” my dad says, shaking his hand and patting him on the back. Hard. Because he and my mum also came to today's game and watched it with Declan's family. 
And it still feels so weird to see them all together… Especially my dad. Every time I see him joking with Declan's brothers or playing with his nephews, I have to pinch myself to remind me that this is real. That this is my life now, that they all are my family.
“Hello” Declan smiles when he finally joins me and Ollie after greeting everyone. 
“Hello, captain Rice” I smile back.
“Liv…” he says, kissing Ollie's head. “What did we agree on the other day?”
“Uh?”
“We…” he says, kissing my cheek and then moving to my ear. “Agreed on you only being allowed to call me that when we are alone and I can fuck you against a wall while you scream my name or those two words.”
“Oh” I whisper, my face burning.
“And they've allowed me to keep the armband, by the way” he smirks. 
“Oh” I repeat. Have we talked about things we could do with that armband? Yes, we have. All this captaincy thing has definitely made our sexual life a bit more… interesting. Spicier, some would say. “That's… ummm… I… Ollie!” I say when he tries to jump from my arms. 
“Someone is eager to go into the pitch” Declan chuckles.
“He saw the ball and wants to go play with the boys” I say, struggling to make him stay still. “But Ollie, you can't walk yet. You can't go play football with your cousins.”
“He actually took a couple of steps the other day” my dad says, joining us.
“What? Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because it was just that, Liv. A couple of steps” he shrugs. “He took one, went for another one, and sat down.”
“Let’s see if he has improved” Declan says, taking him from my arms and putting him down in the grass while he screams of happiness. “Liv, move over there” he tells me. “If he sees the boys behind you, he'll probably walk in that direction.”
“Ok” I say, doing as Declan has told me.
“Ollie, look at mummy. Go to mummy” he says, bending down next to him and holding him by the waist. “You can do it, c'mon.”
At first he doesn't move, he is just trying to find his balance. 
“That's it, c'mon!” I tell him when he takes a step forward, extending my arms towards him. “Come here, Ollie!”
“That's my boy!” Declan smiles when he takes another wobbly step. 
“C’mon, Ollie” I keep encouraging him. “You can do it!”
And then…
“Oh my God! Declan!” I scream when Ollie starts walking on his own and makes it to my arms. “He did it! Did you see it?”
“Of course I did!” he laughs, moving to where we are. “That's my boy!”
“Our boy” I correct him.
“Sorry” he smiles before taking him in his arms and starting to throwing him up in the air, Ollie laughing like crazy.
“Please be careful, Declan.”
“I've done this a million times, Liv. Relax.”
“Yeah, but I'm pretty sure he still is digesting his dinner.”
“Shit.”
“Exactly” I chuckle.
“Please tell me you recorded that” I hear my mum say behind us.
“All of it” Connor says. “That was so cute, guys.”
“What?” I say, turning to look at them.
“Ollie's first steps, your faces watching him and then celebrating… Too cute.”
“And speaking of celebrating, we should get going, we can't be late for dinner” Declan mum's says.
“Not before we take some photos all of us together. That's why we came here, didn't we? To remember the day our boy captained England for the first time” his dad smiles. 
“A day that now will also be the day Ollie took his first steps” Declan smiles back. 
“And on a football pitch of all places. I think that's a sign, and we have another football player in the making” my dad laughs.
“Great” I reply, rolling my eyes.
“As if you didn't love us” Declan says, wrapping his free arm around my waist.
“I love you. Just one football player. The rest… well” I shrug.
“Let's hope Madders doesn't find out about what you just said” he laughs.
“Yeah” I smile. “I love you, Declan.”
“And I love you, Liv” he says before kissing me.
“Urgh, you are disgustingly cute!” Jordan says. “Also you're welcome for all the photos I just took of you three together. My Christmas present this year better be good, because these are memories you will cherish forever.”
“Let’s see if that's true” Declan says, giving me one last kiss before walking towards where his brother is standing to check the photos he has taken while I just stand in the middle of the pitch looking at them. At him with Ollie in his arms, at my mother chatting with his parents, at his other brother and my dad playing with his nephews. At my family.
“Liv, are you ok?” he calls.
“Yes, yes. Better than ever” I smile, wiping away a tear. 
Better than ever. 
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skepticdoe · 1 month ago
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give me your favorite sp headcanons NOW !!!
HIHI demanding much 😡? JKJK THANKS FOR BEING MY FIRST ASK EVER!!
hmmm fav headcanons??
- Marjorine loves old grandma crafts like crocheting and knitting
- Kyle smells like vanilla and clean laundry
- VEGETARIAN STAN (and national geographic nerd Stan)
- Kenny never ever throwing any of his old stuff away because of sentimental value (he and Stan share this trait but Kenny hoards EVERYTHING)
- Kyle and Craig as the most sarcastic friendship duo EVER
- Ike being the most insufferable little shit when he’s a teen
- Craig being a POC
- Kenny toning down on the deaths for Marjorine (and because it starts to take a toll on his older body)
- Wendy becoming a motivational speaker and activist in the future
- Kenny and Marj practically adopting the kids at the youth centre (that both Kenny and Marj operate)
- Wendy and Bebe would own a sassy, diva of a cat that gets princess treatment and wears her own tiara
- Kyle preaches safe driving but breaks about every road rule in the state when he’s road rage driving
- Bebe hosts yearly South Park reunions at different vacation spots that everyone talks about hating but everyone shows up anyway
- Wendy, Tolkein and Kyle have casual smart people meet ups at least once a week
- Stan frequents the gym but no one can tell because of his hoodie addiction
- Stan is the glasses wearer out of him and Kyle (he wears square glasses)
- Kenny still goes out as mysterion pretty often but the people closest to him nag him about quitting because quote “no one wants an old hag running around in his underwear saving them from a simple mugging. You’re almost 30 Kenny!!”
This isn’t all of em but I do love these a lot!!!
Let me know if you have any more asks and thank you for this one!!
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