#SHES IN ROUTE. but girl the library its coming from is like 5 minutes away from mine.

[breakfast-burger]

Impatiently waiting for my hold on a hellboy comic to arrive at the library.

[maxineswritingcenter]

Beauty and the Beast AU - Demon!Dean Winchester

We'll see how this goes! I'm using she/her pronouns for this fic, just to keep it like the original story.

Characters (As they appear): Fem!reader, reader’s father, Gabriel, Metatron, Michael, Zachariah, Demon!Dean

Summary: You are seen as the oddball around town, you're into books and other nerdy things that the small town you were raised in just don't get. You dream of going on the road and having adventures, but it's unlikely you can because you don't have a lot of money. Your father runs a house renovating business and goes to a job in the spooky abandoned house in the woods. You see where I'm going from here.

-------------------------------------------------

Legend tells of of a town, just like one you may know. There was a hero known through out the land for his selflessness and his righteousness. But in times of great peril he sought help from a dark force to go against a greater evil, Cain. With the help of an unlikely accomplice, the hero took the Mark of Cain. The Mark turned our hero into a dangerous foe, scaring family and friends with his unpredictability. But our hero lost the fight against the evil Metatron and died. In a turn of events our hero rose from the grave, but he was not the same person. His eyes black as night and powers beyond anything anyone had ever seen. He began to burn and pillage anything he could find in the name of destruction. His friends and family chased him down into an abandoned house in the woods. With the help of divine intervention everyone in the house was trapped. As our hero lives with the Mark he will fall deeper and deeper into the darkness, farther from his humanity. His brother has a cure, but fears what our hero is capable of. Our hero hides alone in the house, isolating himself from those he cared for most. Only true love could tame him and bring back his humanity. But who could ever love a beast?

-

Did I think I was still going to be in this tiny town after I graduated college? No. But here I was. In the same tiny room, in the same tiny house, in the same tiny town. I suppose it would have to do until I found a job I didn't despise and made enough money doing side jobs so I could leave this place. My father and I shared this tiny house. One bedroom, one bathroom, one basement. I was given the office space in the house for my room. It was small and crowded, but I had to say it had its perks. Well, more singular: perk. One entire wall was bookshelves to house my many, many books. Majority fiction. If I couldn't have adventures on my own, I would join other characters on theirs.

I had woken up, fifteen minutes before my alarm, as usual. My dad said it was from stress, but I wasn't really stressed too much. Not really. The only thing that stressed me out was the fact that I was going into town for the farmer’s market and I wanted to avoid two certain individuals. I got dressed, I had been going for a more boho vibe lately, so today it was a long, floral skirt, black T-shirt, and some slip on sneakers. It was still warm out so I wanted to take advantage of it. Late September weather was unpredictable. The local weather station was talking about snow in the coming weeks and I really wasn't prepared for that to start.

I grabbed my large flannel bag and made my way too the kitchen. Dad was leaning against the counter, reading the local paper.

"Morning, pops." I called, "Any spicy gossip?" Small towns meant gossip was put into the newspaper, which I couldn't decide was terrible or not considering everyone knew about it anyway.

"Oh you bet, there's two sections worth of business about the monkshood going missing all over town. Which... I don't see how that's relevant." He said, taking a gulp from his coffee.

"Sounds like the resident werewolf was having none of it." I joked. Then something caught my eye, cupcakes on the counter.

"Oh did someone get a special delivery?" I winked, bumping hips with him. His face went red, he started scratching his beard to distract himself.

"Uh na- oh yeah. Mrs. Barber dropped them off this morning. Said she had some left over from the bake sale at the high school." He lied.

"It's Ms. Barber, dad. And she definitely has a thing for you. Why don't you give her a wink every once in a while?" I said, leaning over and taking one from the tray.

"Oh I don't know..." He said. Ever since mom left us, he's been nervous about getting back into the dating scene.

"Just sayin'." I shrugged and made my way out the door.

"What's the cupcake for? It's 10am?" He called as I shut the door. The cupcake was for our mail man. The man had an incredible sweet tooth. He was a huge patron of the bakery. And right on time, here came the mail truck. The only mail truck at our post office.

"Hey Gabe!" I smiled as he parked. He got out, smoothing back his brown hair. He had a smile that was contagious.

"Hey there, (Y/N). Is that for me?" He pointed to the cupcake in my hand.

"Of course, anything for my favorite messenger." He chuckled, taking it and replacing my empty hand with our mail.

"You spoil me." He smiled and took a bite. "So uh, where ya off too?" He leaned against the front end.

"Farmer's market and the library."

"So veggies and the same book you always get?" He said, licking his fingers of frosting.

"I don't need your judgement." I rolled my eyes, starting to make my way towards town.

"Thanks again!" He said, getting into his truck and continuing on his route.

I waved back, making my way past the neighboring houses and into the heart of town. The whole town was out and about. Everyone I passed seemed to look and whisper, it was the reality we lived in. I was the girl whose mom left without a trace. I was the girl who lived in her own little world of books and fantasies. I was different and odd compared to everyone else. But that was okay... Or at least that's what I keep telling myself.

The main Street was blocked off for the market. I crossed the street and pushed open the door to the library. It was a small shop, there were a few shelves and a register. In the back corner was a reading nook with a soft recliner chair that I knew very well and probably had my butt print in it. After I set my last read in the return box, I made my way towards the section I was looking for. The book had no title and no author, just a single rose on the front. I think that's what drew me to it. It was a story about a guy and girl who meet and she doesn't realize that he is her true love. I could quote this book, it was my favorite. Far off places, daring sword fights, magic spells, a prince in disguise. I held it close to me and moved towards the front where the librarian sat. He was an older man, a little odd looking but didn't seem like he could do any harm. He had told me his name was Met. A little strange but who was I to judge. He was hunched over on the desk, looking down through the glasses at the end of his nose. Met said he had read every book in the library more that 5 times which is why I think we got along.

"Good morning, Met." I greeted him, setting the book and my library card on the counter.

"That book again?" He said, not even looking up from his book.

"I can't help it. It's my favorite." I grinned, I couldn't wait to get my hands on it again.

"You know what? Just keep it. No charge." He said, looking up at me with a knowing look in his eyes.

"What? No, I couldnt-" I started. I hated that I was refusing but I just couldn't take it.

"I insist. You've read that book more than I have, which is saying something. I know you'll give it a good home." He smiled. I took the book and hugged it close.

"Thank you, thank you so much." I gushed, carefully sliding the book in my bag, "I'll see you around!" He waved as I left the shop, a new spring in my step.

-

There were the usual crowd in the market. The baker, the various farmers and Crafters. I made my way, stall to stall, chatting and picking up a few things. I preferred shopping this way, I could help out the community and get fresh produce, win win. The only issue was I accidentally made eye contact with the town pretty boy, Michael and his goon Zach.

Michael was the town hero. He was a good hunter and all around charmer. He was tall, dark, and handsome. Meaning every girl in town was in love with him. Except me, considering that I think getting by on your looks and being macho wouldn't be a great match for me, who finds more attraction in personality and, well, a brain. He and his goon Zach were odd friends, considering Zach looked like he was old enough to be Michael's father. Michael had this odd obsession with the fact that I wasn't obsessed with him. I had heard from the rumor mill that he had a crush on me and no thank you.

I quickly darted through the crowd, hoping he couldn't follow. I circled back towards my house. But as soon as I made it to the drive way:

"Hello, (Y/N)." Michael said, he was laying on the charm early this time. He was also, right behind me. I turned, holding onto my bag.

"Hello, Michael." I smiled stiffly. If I kept things short, maybe he would go away.

"Listen, I was thinking that we should go back to my place and talk. I havea few things I would like to dicuss." I clicked my tongue, stepping away from him.

"Maybe another time. I have to help my dad with a few things."

"Heh, that guy needs all the help he can get!" Zach laughed.

"Hey! Don't talk about my father like that!" I shouted, rolling up my sleeves to punch this dick a new one when Michael stepped forward and punched Zach in the shoulder, "Yeah, don't talk about her father that way!" He turned back to me, "Now, I know how you feel about me."

I raised an eyebrow, "You could not possibly have a clue." I continued, "Listen, I gotta go, nice talking to you, bye!" I hurried inside, making sure to lock the door behind me. I set my bag on the counter, carefully placing items in their places when I spotted a note on the counter.

Gone to the old house in the woods. Be home for dinner.

Love Dad.

Dad renovated old houses and made them new. He was just the run of the mill Property Brother, without the twin and real estate practice. The house he was referring to was this huge mansion that was in the woods. It used to be the home of this really rich guy back in colonial times, like pre-America. The guy never had any kids so it was just left to be abandoned and rot. Some people said it was haunted, but who would want to haunt that place? It was falling apart.

I shrugged and went about my day as usual. I made a snack from the delicious apples I got, read a little, tidied up around the house, and made dinner. But... Dad was late. Sure, he had been home late before but never this late. A hour turned into hours. I tried his cell phone but it just went to voice mail each time. So there I was anxiously sitting at the table, my foot about to wear a hole in the carpet from how much it was shaking. I just kept refreshing my messages, hoping that he would text me saying he was late or stuck somewhere.

"That's it." I stood up and gathered my things. I shoved the first aid kit, my phone, and a few other things in my bag before making my way to the garage. It was a two car garage, one spot for dad's work truck and another for my 1999 Thunderbird, a car that definitely did not live up to its name. I started the car, opened the garage and left, almost not pausing to close it.

It was just getting to be dusk, the sky was just beginning to fade to night when I got to the house. When I pulled up the long, winding driveway, far off the road, I saw dad's truck. I opened my door and looked around the car. Maybe he could have slipped and knocked himself out.

"Dad?" I called, looking around. His took box wasn't in the passenger seat, meaning he was probably inside. Holding my bag tightly by the strap I got closer. In the time it had taken to get here, it had chilled significantly. I really should have grabbed a jacket. The house was... Menacing to say the least. The white faded paint was chipping off, the columns on the front porch were near collapse. The wooden stairs creaked as I made my way up to the ajar door.

"Hello?" I called, peaking me head inside. I used my phone flashlight to look around. There was graffiti on the walls from kids who really should take an art class. Their pentagrams could use some work. There was stuff strewn all over. Lots of papers and other things.

"Dad?" I called again but cursed myself when I heard creaking. I am literally that girl in every horror movie. Let's go to the haunted house and call out to someone and then get straight up murdered. I am literally so stupid. I silently crept closer to the stairs, they probably led down to the basement.

"(Y/N)?" I heard dad's voice echo from below.

"Dad!" I called back, rushing down the stairs. As I got lower, the atmosphere seemed to change from a old house to almost a bunker. Metal lined the stair case as I went down further and further.

When I made it to the bottom I looked around in shock. This place was practically brand new. Hardwood floors, nick knacks lining the shelves. There was a kitchenette in the corner with a white marble island.

"(Y/N)!" Dad called again, the sound coming from a narrow hall that led to a bookshelf. I could hear my dad calling from behind it.

"Grab a book!" He shouted.

"A book? What does that-" I started grabbing books, pushing them away to see a door but instead, when I grabbed a copy of Arabian Nights there was a low groan from the wall. I took a step back as the wall swung back to reveal a secret room. It was a circular concrete room and as soon as I walked in goosebumps rose on my arms. Dad was tied to a chair in the middle of the room.

"Dad..." I ran up to him, "Oh thank God you're alright! What happened? Who did this?" I said, moving around him to get at the ropes.

"We gotta get out of here, kid, this guy isn't human. He'll kill us both." He whispered. What kind of an asshole takes a nice guy like my dad and locks him up? A psycho, that's who. My dad coughed, it was wet and loud and too much for my liking.

"God, it's freezing in here, you're going to get sick." I said, finally starting to loosen the ropes.

"Well, well...." I froze at the new voice. It was deep and cocky sounding, "Look what the cat dragged in." I stood up to face this guy. He was just Out of view of the light, all I could see were his nose and the smirk on his face. He was wearing a red button down, dark jeans and boots.

"Look, I don't know who you are or what you want but we don't have anything to give. Please, he's getting sick, you can't keep him here." I pleaded, holding my dad's shoulder to keep up this confidence I was trying to portray.

"What he deserves, breaking into my place, snooping around." The stranger said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"He was just doing his job, this house is abandoned!" I shouted, taking a step forward.

"Baby, please..." Dad whispered urgently, "Just go, it's me he wants, don't let yourself get wrapped up in this."

"I can't leave you here, I won't." I said, crouching down and holding his hands. They were so cold and I could feel him shaking. Dad's eyes were so dull, his teeth were chattering.

Rage built up in my chest as I stood to meet the stranger again.

"Who do you think you are, keeping him here like this?" I spat, "Come into the light, coward."

"(Y/N)!" My dad shouted in a warning voice. The stranger only chuckled and shook his head. He stood up from where he was leaning on the door frame and took a step forward. My jaw tightened and my eyes widened. The only thing I could focus on was his eyes. They were pitch black. No pupil, no Iris, just black. I quickly recovered my glare and stood my ground, even as he came close to me. He smelled off, like rotten eggs. On his arm there was a strange mark that seemed to glow red. In his hand he held a odd weapon. It was the jaw bone of some type of animal attached to a handle. There were even teeth still attached.

"And what do you intend to do with that? Club me until it breaks?" I smirked, again that confidence I was trying to portray. But was intimidation the right choice in this situation? I didn't care. He seemed like another smug asshole that could get whatever he wanted from his looks whoever or whatever he was.

He hummed under his breath, lifting the weapon to his open palm. He dragged it down, and I watched it slice open his palm. But as soon as blood appeared from the cut, it disappeared as if it healed itself.

And confidence gone.

"Look, sweetheart, this isn't about you. But you're doing a number on my patience. So get the hell out." He motioned to the door.

I looked at the door, then back to my father. I couldn't leave him here. No matter how much this guy scared me. I had no other choice.

"Let my dad go, I'll take his place." I said quickly, "Do whatever you want, just let him go."

"No! I won't let you do this." Dad said, leaning forward to struggle.

"I won't let you rot down here. Let me do this." I couldn't look at him in the eye.

The stranger took my chin in his hand, making me meet his eyes, the black void of nothingness. It made me think of death and despair.

"You sure about this?" He asked, he lowered his voice, "You sure you want to take his place?"

I nodded, "Please, let him go." I whispered, my voice was on the verge of shaking. The stranger grinned and let go of my face. He went around my dad with the weapon, in a quick slice, the ropes fell away. He grabbed my dad by the shirt, lifting him from the seat and pulling him to the door.

"Don't hurt him!" I shouted.

"I'll come back for you, (Y/N), I'll get help!" Dad called, his voice fading as the hidden door shut behind them.

Oh God...

I slowly sat on the chair, the dread setting in.

"What have I done?"

---------------------------------------------------

NEW SERIES - You will never guess how it ends. 

Reblog if you liked it, likes work too.

Read part 2 here!

Requests are open and the fandoms I write for are listen in the bio. 

Taglist: (shoot me an ask if you want to be tagged)

@happy-little-marvel

@hobby27

@somebodyto-love

@beanie-beebo 

[cecilspeaks]

144 - The Dreamer

It’s turtles all the way down. But man, it’s kittens all the way up.

Welcome to Night Vale.

Our top story today is the PTA bake sale from 4 until 8 PM at Night Vale High School. There will be cakes, pies, cookies and all sorts of desserts available, and the money goes to a great cause: funding for the blood space war. PTA officers Steve Carlsberg, Susan Willman, and Diane Crayton expect this to be the largest bake sale in more than a decade. This is because the City Council, in cooperation with the Sheriff’s Secret Police, in cooperation with a vague, yet menacing government agency, in cooperation with the world government, in cooperation with the lizard people wing of the Bilderburg group, has mandated that all citizens participate in this spring’s PTA bake sale. A group of men in black suits wearing sun glasses and earpieces gathered around City Hall this morning to confirm this. “Perhaps bring some moist blueberry muffins,” one of the mysterious men announced. “Or invisible pie,” said another. “Oh, oh, oh! If you have one of those special pans that makes only brownie edges,” said another. And each of the men squealed and clapped their hands saying: “Yes! Those are the best!”

So head on down to the high school and buy and sell some tasty baked goods for a valiant cause. It’s illegal not to.

In related news, more than 200 soldiers died yesterday in the bloodiest battle yet of the ongoing blood space war. Not all have been identified, but we have learned that Corporal Waymon Davis and Sergeant Yasmine Alfonse, both residents of Night Vale, are believed to be among those killed. Officials from intergalactic military headquarters said no armistice is in sight, as they are not certain who they are fighting, what they are fighting for, and when the fighting is even happening. “Time is super relative, man,” said senior strategic advisor Jameson Archibald. “Like prrrrrrr, mind-blowing how some of the people who are fighting this war haven’t even been born yet! My head hurts just thinking about that. Spacetime, can you even believe it, just woooow!” Archibald concluded.

Why are we fighting this war and who is involved, and beyond bake sales and online crowd sourced donations, who is funding this conflict? Over the next few weeks, I will try to do my best to answer some of these questions, but beware that these questions may have no answers. Or worse, have answers that make no sense. Today we will start with what we know. We will start the story of – Eunomia.

Eunomia grew up on a farm. Her parents planted invisible all corn. All day, Eunomia would work the fields. This was the early 1800’s, so there were no gas powered tractors or tillers or combines. Eunomia would plant each invisible corn seed one by one in long rows over several acres. She enjoyed this work, because she loved the fresh air, the insects and the birds, and the dusk, her favorite moment. The stars would come out. During the late summer she would lie down in the corn fields, hidden among the tall invisible stocks of majestic corn. And she thought of all the possible worlds beyond this one. Eventually, her mother would call her home for dinner, and the next day Eunomia would dream about those worlds while culling the ripened corn, anxiously awaiting the disappearance of the sun, so she could comprehend the infinite possibilities of a life that was not this one.

On her 17th birthday, Eunomia went out to the corn field, but never returned. When her parents went to look for her, they found a large perfectly round clearing. There was no corn in this circle, only flat dirt, Eunomia’s packed lunch uneaten, her diary, her tools, and the clothing she had worn that morning, the last time anyone saw her.

In the 1980’s, librarians at the Night Vale Public Library found Eunomia’s diary, which historians had long thought to be either or legend. The librarians said they found it underneath the second floor Dr Pepper machine. A bibliophile or historian must have hidden behind the vending machine, trying to escape hungry librarians, but left the artefact behind when that person either escaped or was eaten. The librarians who found the book placed it on display in a new exhibit called “Early Night Vale Life: Quotidian scrawlings of delicious mortals”. It took many years of armed expeditions into the public library and cost many lives for historians to read this entire diary. But their brave efforts eventually paid off, as most of the diary has been transcribed or photographed. Here are a few sample entries from Eunomia’s journal.

“July 15, 1815. The star I have named Wolfgang has moved from its constellation. I believe it to be an artificial vessel. I shall send it a message somehow.

August 1, 1815. Wolfgang has grown larger and now changes colors. Tonight, it is azure. Last night it was turquoise. I predict it has seen our Earth.

September 4, 1815. Tonight I have carved a message into the corn. It is not in English, but in patterns, concentric circles connected by sharp angular lines. I have carved this message quite large. I do hope it is legible. Tomorrow morning I shall find out.”

And just below this entry, Eunomia has sketched this cornfield pattern into her diary. Her final entry was on September 5. “A man with a mirror for a face has come for me. Does not speak. Farewell.”

More on the story of Eunomia in a moment, but first, breaking news from city hall. Pamela Winchell, the city’s director of emergency press conferences, called an emergency press conference to announce, and I quote, “some crazy black bull blanks going down over here, y’all. Whooollyyy blank,” she added. Winchell was standing near a cornfield on the property of John Peters – you know, the farmer. She was covering her mouth with one hand and pointing with the other while jumping up and down. Winchell said, “Y’all have to see this mess, but also like don’t come aaanywhere near here, no way. But still like, it’s kinda beautiful with all the lights and stuff, you really have to see it but you can’t, don’t. Definitely don’t come out here, nothing to see,” she said firmly, only to continue: “Cooool, oh blank that’s raaaaad.”

City Council quickly ushered Winchell away from the microphone and said that they have formed a secret exploratory committee to investigate the lights coming from John Peters’ land. More on this story as it develops.

For weeks after Eunomia disappeared, townsfolk mourned the loss of a young and vibrant girl. The city declared her dead, and her church held a public funeral service. Her mother spoke about Eunomia’s vivid imagination and penchant for drawing and painting. Her father, through halting sobs, said Eunomia was a smart girl who loved astronomy and physics. The crowd gasped at this. Some of the congregation vocally protested saying: “He should not be accusing the dead of paganism. Eunomia’s father calmed them and said: “Science is not a fringe religion, Eunomia taught me this. She wrote about the movement of stars and planets every day. She dreamed of a time that human beings could leave this gravity and travel into deepest space. I, too, thought science was Satan’s checker board but now, thanks to my dear daughter, I think science is neat.” The congregation grumbled, but ultimately accepted that a grief-stricken parent must be given room for the madness of sorrow.

The people of Night Vale moved forward with their lives. Like all tragic loss, they remembered Eunomia, sometimes even see her, only to realize it was a shadow or a mistake of the mind. They felt sad and empty, but over time the sadness waned and the emptiness filled, as they always do.  

Her parents sold the farm and moved into the city. Consciously, they wanted to be closer to their community, but subconsciously they feared having to endure the weight of public empathy, so they mostly stayed indoors. One year after Eunomia’s physical disappearance, the memory of Eunomia had all but disappeared as well. Night Vale was back to normal. No one was thinking about Unomia that day, that anniversary. They were thinking about something else: the visitor.

More on this soon, but first traffic. Christina and Ricardo Alfonse had just exited Route 800 toward Pike Street, when they planned to turn left toward the hospital. Ricardo was driving quickly as Christina was in immense discomfort. She was eight months pregnant when contractions began only half an hour ago. Fearing the complications of an early birth, Christina did not outwardly panic, she inwardly panicked. She grew quiet and still, as her body began to convulse and her guts begun to churn. She turned to her husband and calmly stated: “Ricky, the baby’s coming.” Ricardo, having read nearly a dozen books, including “The Physiology of Pregnancy”, “The Psychology of Infancy”, and “The Anthology of Relevancy”, felt prepared for even this most unexpected of moments. Inwardly, he did not panic. Outwardly, he was a blubbering mess. He rushed his wife into the car and onto the hospital going well over the speed limit, asking Christina if she was remembering to breathe, Christina repeatedly asking Ricardo to slow down and confirmed she was breathing. A minor accident between a top secret military transport truck and a 2011 Honda CRV along Route 800 near Exit 12 had slowed the couple down by a few minutes, and during that traffic jam, Christina turned on the radio to take her mind off her body. She heard a news update about the blood space war and the tragic deaths of two Night Vale soldiers, one of whom was named Yasmine Alfonse. Christina and Ricardo Alfonse knew they were expecting a girl. They knew they would name her Yasmine, because it is a beautiful name. Ricardo laughed at the dark humor of the improbable coincidence, but Christina never laughed nor believed it to be a coincidence. They arrived at the hospital with plenty of time to spare and three hours later their daughter Yasmine was born. Christina had decided to give her a different name, but when the nurse who was filling out the birth certificate asked, Christina said “Yasmine,” as she was unable to say anything else. It was like that moment had already happened and she was only remembering it.

So, expect 15 minute delays on eastbound lanes of Route 800 near Exit 12. This has been traffic.

On the anniversary of Eunomia’s disappearance, an astronaut arrived in Night Vale. The early 19th century villages did not know what an astronaut was. So what they saw was a puffy silver humanoid with a mirror for a face. The astronaut suddenly appeared in the center of town, roughly where the Dog Park is today, and walked silently through the dusty streets. Crowds gathered and followed the stranger, all the while pointing and warmly shouting “Interloper!” in hopes that the frightening figure would show signs of benevolence.

The astronaut, bow-legged and slow, walked without speaking toward the outskirts of town. It took hours, and by the time the visitor stopped, nearly the entire city had followed. There was a greenish aura about the astronaut as they turned to face the gathered mob. The astronaut lifted their gloved hands to their neck and unlatched the helmet. There was a loud hiss and a pop, and the mask lifted. The crowd tentatively approached the stranger, and as the helmet came fully off, the townsfolk cried out in horror. The face of the visitor was nearly skeletal, a rotted corpse, long white hair peeling down the back of the skull, an incomplete set of elongated teeth visible with no lips to hide them, startled eyes ever staring with no lids to express anything else, and what was left of the skin had shriveled and yellowed.

The crowd had begun to step backward, but one woman stepped forward – a tired and pale woman approached the decomposing astronaut and said: “Eunomia?” The astronaut opened her mouth slowly and spoke in a hoarse cough. “Mother,” the astronaut said. Eunomia’s young mother touched her elderly daughter’s face. Unomia broke into dust. And the empty space suit collapsed into the ground.

More news, but first, The weather.

[“The Only Thing” by Ali Holder, http://aliholder.com/]

Dozens of astronauts appeared in Night Vale over the centuries that followed. They still occasionally do, but it has been 36 years since the last appearance. These astronauts are time travelers of sorts. They are Night Vale citizens who fight for humanity in the blood space war, but are returning home to recruit or retire. Those who have returned from battle have told us about Eunomia and her incredible leadership and diplomacy. Her death in the timeline of those fighting his war has get to occur, but in our earthly timeline she died 200 years ago in a cornfield. There is so much more to say about Eunomia and the beginnings of the blood space war, but we cannot cover all that here. It is much too complicated a story. [nervously] Plus, an empty-eyed messenger child from the City Council just showed up in my radio studio to tell me to get to the important news of the day. [gleefully] Thank you, child! Here’s an iPad, go play on Tick Tock and stop staring at me! I’m really creeped out!

[clears throat] The City Council organized a press conference this afternoon, but before it could begin, Pamela Winchell grabbed the microphone from the City Council and shouted: “Surprise emergency press conference! Hey, so a space craft flew down into John Peters’ cornfield, and these beings of astonishing structure emerged with two floating pods, and inside these pods were dead bodies! Ie was sad, but also the bodies looked pretty old, so maybe it was just their time. Sometimes that happens, you know, actually it always happens. No one has ever not died. Anyway, if you lost an elderly friend or relative, maybe come identify the bodies! Sorry for your loss.” Winchell then reached up into her hairline and pulled down a zipper that ran from her head to her waist as she opened herself, a Pamela-shaped cloud drifted up and away over the crowd, a faint voice saying: “Pamela out!” could be heard in the sky.

Several Night Vale residents came to view the bodies. One body was identified as Waymon Davis by his great great grandson Melvin. Melvin brought a daguerreotype photo of Waymon from 1980. In the photo, Waymon was 33 years old. The body Melvin identified looked to be in his sixties, but it was clearly Waymon. Christina Alfonse, holding her newborn baby in her hospital bed, saw the footage on television. When she saw the other body, she saw a woman in her seventies with Yasmine’s eyes, Yasmine’s lips, and even the same thick low forehead. Christina held her baby tight to her chest. “You are a brave woman,” she said to the infant Yasmine as she kissed her tiny cheeks.

Stay tuned next of the sound of an alarm click that cannot be turned off and a dream that cannot be awoken from. Good night, Night Vale,

Good night.

Today’s proverb: Talk to your kids about the birds and the bees. “Never look directly at birds,” you should say to them, “and bees? Don’t get me started.”

[dccrossmusic-blog]

Well that'a a wrap- the D.C Cross Ecstatic Racquet album tour is complete! Thank you so much to all my new fans and old fans for the support! It was a lot of fun. I probably drove more than 10000 kms for the 9 shows- which is mental..it was all good until the car broke down in Albury on the weekend- keep reading and you can hear about the drama of the last 48 hours in point form!

Thanks to all the nice people, other musicians and venues and sound people and bar people at the places i played at. All thank you for the free beers, dinners and when people let me stay at the venue or their homes for free. Super mega thank you to Dusty Attic Music Lounge , Howl & Moan Records, Petersham Bowling Club, Plantbased Wholefoods, The Merri Creek Tavern , Franks Wild Years, Mounties and the Bridge Hotel Castlemaine (which is impossible to tag on Facebook).

So everyone is always crapping on about stuff that happens to them on social media but the last 48hours of my tour was quite eventful and i think entertaining for others. Here in point form i will mention the unfolding of the events.

Saturday 3pm Show in Thirroul - Sunday 3pm Show in Castlemaine, Victoria - a bit of driving (about 1700 kms there and back to Sydney) but pretty straight forward- right..what could possibility go right :/

•drive from Marrickville to Thirroul - so far so good

• play a cosy show to some nice people at Franks' Wild Years- very impressed german guy says that i am a beautiful musician and play the guitar like John Frusciante from the Chill Peppers - Brad other founding original member of Gerling comes to the show-a wonderful gesture of support

•Finish show in Thirroul and with a broken GPS head on the drive to Castlemaine, Victoria (about 845km's).

•Get tailgated on the Bulli Pass by some tradie fuckhead- a bit of an anxious 10 minutes but make it okay - our faithful 2004 Holden still seems to be okay.

•Drive for 5 hours on route to Albury as its more than halfway.

•100 kms out of Albury car starts shaking uncontrollably - i thought it was just the Hume Highway - so just cranked AC/DC and LANKUM new album on the distorted car stereo.

•60 km's nearer Albury situation with car gets worse- now know it was a busted CV crankshaft (no idea) and apparently quite dangerous

•Navigate car into Albury and call road side assistance. Sounds like i get a drunk Andrew Jackson Calvert type guy on the phone who relishes in the fact he can say that they can't help me and can tow the vehcile to a mechanic on Monday morning. It's 9.30 Pm Saturday night

•Find the cheapest accom in Albury -$66 a night and stay above a 2 floored techno beer barn full of teenagers on MDMA and very loud party remix / techno music going on. The room looks like was last renovated in the 1950's.

•Call the only guy i know in Albury and hit the RSL after Ross Wilson had just played. Didn't see Ross and damn glad i didn't hear 'Come said the Boy' the second most dodgy song in Australian Music History.

•Stash broken down car in Coles car park. Got to bed in backpackers with Digitalism's - Zdarlight blasting through the building.

•Awake sunday morning and hire car and drive to Castlemaine.

•An hour out of Albury a crazed fucktard - Chopper Reid vibe guy - cruising along in a shitbox Commodore with two kids bikes strapped to the back - a blue bike and little pink bike gets upset that i overtake him on the freeway. As im overtaking he speeds up- i was wasnt really checking my rear view mirror as as i was looking straight ahead to overtake- pretty legit an safe driving from me- anyway, Chopper Reid speeds up and whist i'm overtaking and gets really really mad..i do the thumbs up mate sign and makes him even more angrier..he follows my agrresively for the next 200 kilometres.. very intimidating - the most alarming thought of this was if he is driving so recklessly with two small kids in the car (nee the bikes) imagine what he would do if he caught up to me after 2 hours of full on road rage anger. Yep just what i need right now- anyway decide to James Bond him and speed up so he cant see me, speed into a truck parking side station behind a bunch of bushes- wait till i see him fly pass - teeth grinding trying to find me. Wait 5 minutes and commence my ongoing, fun-filled journey

•Castlemaine Bridge Hotel is a lot further than i calculated. And a path i have never journeyed before- no GPS is making trickier.

•3 hours later -- I ARRIVE! PHEW.

•The Bridge Hotel Castlemaine is a safe haven of coolness in all the chaos.

•Meet old friend Casey Rice at the Bridge Hotel and play two sets of my music to people actually listening to my songs- made the ordeal worthwhile and Skyscrapper Stan aka Stan Woodhouse - the kiwi songsmith works there as the barman- equally parts good and evil - that guy is a crackup..easing into the afternoon with a free pint of something, some comedy gold from Stan and a half price healthy dinner with green stuff in it (maybe vegetables- not on a burger bun so im a bit confused how to eat it ).

•Stay the night above the venue and get up at 4am to drive car back to hire car place. Venues alarm system goes off when i'm having a shower…find the exit and leave gracefully

•On the drive back to Albury - around 4.35am my phone GPS stops working and end up on some lonesome unused highway in a State Forrest in the middle of nowhere - using just my instinct to try and navigate back to Albury

•See a giant Pink moon setting over the trees in state forrest - i think heading towards Canberra (no idea) and makes the trip worthwhile

• Two massive kangaroos leap across the road just seconds away from me, right in front of the car- it's still pitch black - i narrowly avoiding hitting them (a split second before this happened a voice in my head said slow down, be careful, i dont wanna kill no kangaroos) - maybe it was the kangaroos mystical vibe -im not sure but seemed like divine intervention for the next 3 hours that we all survived.

•Some how make it to Heathcote, Victoria and get directions to the Hume Highway by a lady working at a servo with a magical hair braid getting hit on by the local milkman (why do all milkman look the same??) . I've never been happier to see the Hume Highway in my life. Listen to Highway to Hell - AC/DC on cd - my close friends mum gave my as a birthday gift she got from her work - a catholic girls schools - the library was throwing the cd out. Also LANKUM new song 'Wild Rover' that sounds equal parts Irish Rebel folk heroes/ Dirty Three and Tool - I'm having a moment.

•Eventually get back to Albury, put all my guitars and merch and amp back in broken car and return the hire car which was three times the amount i thought it would be cause i had driven extra kilometres.

•Get back in my barely drivable broken down car - Monday morning trying to find a mechanic in Albury to repair car. •Seems all mechanic in Albury are too busy- we can fix the car in 5 days time or are on holidays… Stranded far from home….

•Finally find a mechanic on the outskirts of town who can fix the car- drive barley drivable car around Albury trying to find the mechanic- stressing out front wheels will fall off - takes about 20 minutes without gps and hats off the bloke who gave me the best directions of my life to find mechanic.

•Mechanic looks at car and says its my lucky day - they have the spare part in Albury -which is very rare … a new crank shaft (no idea) - and he can fix it straight away ($500 seems reasonable ).

•Wait 5 hours in the belting Albury sun. Eat the biggest and best potato scallops ive ever had (from North Albury) and presto- hand over credit card and Car is fixed. Drink 2 litres of hot Mountain Dew and drive 6 hours and arrive home safely.

• Triumph scene from Rocky -Bill Contis 'Gonna Fly Now (Theme from Rocky) plays out in my head as i drink a beer and lie on the couch. Maybe next time i will fly.

• And thats what it takes to play two shows as an underground cult folk musician in Australia.

• Get Ecstatic

• And please buy my album on bandcamp to help pay mechanic - maybe a Xmas gift, coming of age …. en vogue vinyl experience

•Remember kids, "It's a JUNGLE out there!".

[secondhandfantasy]

Loving Porcupine

Fanfiction by me

Language: English 

Words: 9,506 

Summary: Tina has always had people talking about her love life, most of the time she did not like it, but some times the right person came into the picture to make it all better.

A.K.A: The loves of Tina's life

Find it on AO3 Here 

------------ “Come down from there,” Tina heard Queenie shout “,you could get seriously hurt.” A smirk formed on Tina’s lips.

Yeah as if anyone would care, she thought as a slight bitter chuckle escaped her lips.

Tina looked down at her worried sister. It wasn’t her fault that the only place where she could get some peace was in the roof of the Ilvermorny castle, it also wasn’t her fault that she quite liked heights, they, after all, made her feel a sense of freedom, they made her feel like she could do anything without anyone to hold her back.

“Teenie, please, come down from there,” her sister’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts as she looked at the blonde’s head that was popping out of the window in the Thunderbird common room and looking up at her. Reminding her that even in the most peaceful of places, your siblings would still manage to find you.

“How did you even manage to access the Thunderbird common room, Queenie?” She said, completely ignoring her sister’s plea and not showing any sign of moving away from that roof.

“One of your friends let me in,” the younger witch gave her sister a slight smile, “he was very kind”

“One,” Tina started, eyes locked with Queenie’s “whoever it was that opened the door for you was not my friend, I don’t have any friends here nor would I want to” Tina watched as her sister looked at her with exasperation “and two, whoever it was, you must give me a name because he was clearly flirting with my 13 year old sister.”

Queenie rolled her eyes before opening her mouth to retaliate “How would you know he was flirting with me?” she said, irritation clear in all of her features “you weren't there”

“I know how boys work” Tina said not making eye contact with Queenie, instead deciding to look out ahead to the campus bellow. “You are a legilimens, you should know for certain if he had second intentions or not”

“Well, what if he had?” Anger was clearly sipping out of her words now. “What will you do about it? It’s not like you can take care of me 24 hours a day.”

Queenie looked down as her breathing slowly calmed. “It’s not like you have any experience to compare my love life to anyways,” she whispered, hoping her sister had not heard her but, as soon as she saw the mass of short dark brown hair make its way to the other side of the roof, she knew that her sister had heard every last word.

Tina walked towards the quidditch pitch, where a few boys were playing around and sat down in the roof space that was hidden from any prying eyes. She heard her sister’s faint shouts of her name from the distance and waited until she gave up and they eventually disappeared.

As the shouting came to an end, Tina finally let herself think over what her sister had said. It’s not like you have any experience to compare my love life to anyways. She wasn’t wrong, of course. Tina was one of the only girls in her year who has not had her first kiss, she knew she wasn’t the prettiest girl, not even close, but she still wished someone would at least look at her differently, look at her like she was a precious being, look at her with admiration, with want… was that too much to ask?

Tina stayed up in the roof for a few more minutes, trying to organize her thoughts before she was to get down from the roof and face the people who clearly didn’t want to see her. she also had to apologise to her younger sister for acting so harshly, she knew Queenie didn’t mean to hurt her, she was just frustrated and 13, in the start of her teenage years with almost every single boy in her grade lusting after her. She was bound to lash out at some point.

The window slowly opened as Tina pushed herself through it, landing safely in the common room floor. she took a while to look around and see if anyone was there but, after a quick scan, she realised that everyone must already be having dinner in the eating area.

-----

“Tina Goldstein,” the boy in her year spat her name out as if it was venom. “The girl nobody wants to touch.” His friends laughed along with him as she slowly looked up from the book she was reading.

“What do you want, Mckinnon?”  Alexon Mckinnon was the type of boy girls swooned over, he was also the type of boy who always thought that he had every right to say and do anything and everything he wanted so, to summarize, he was exactly the type of boy Tina hated and, noting her clear disgust of him, he hated her back.

“Nothing” he said sliding down in the seat beside her “I just wanted to tell you that I am very happy with the fact that you are 17 years old and still haven’t gotten your first kiss.” he smirked inching closer to her, “but of course, we can make that little fact change now, can’t we?”

Tina quickly looked up at him before locking her piercing gaze with his, making sure all of her hatred would be seen. “If the person I am supposed to have my first kiss with is you, than I’d rather never kiss anyone,” Tina stood up and quickly grabbed her notes and books before walking away.

She started speed walking out of the library with her head down, staring at her feet as she silently urged them to walk faster, not looking at where she was going. She hated the fact that every single person in this school knew everything about her highly non existent love life, why did she have to be the target for all of their bullying? Why did no one like her? Those were the thoughts that were running through her head as she slammed straight into someone's chest.

“Sorry” she said quietly straightening herself before looking up at none other than Benjamin White, the most hated student in her year, aside from herself, of course. The tall, lanky boy didn’t have anything to be hated over in her opinion. Sure he used glasses that had lenses that looked like they could be thrown out of the tallest building and still not break from how thick they were and maybe his neat mousy brown hair was way too neat for a 17 year old boy but one thing that no one noticed was this young boy’s kindness. The way his light green eyes lit up every time he got an answer right, the way he was always up to help a friend in need when they needed it and how he always let other kids walk all over him if that meant making them happy.

If Tina was honest with herself, she would have realized that what she felt for him was not a romantic crush but indeed a friendship one, she longed to have a friend but Benjamin did not feel the same way. He had always stared at Tina throughout the day or whenever he could, he would always take other routes to maybe run into her because Benjamin, unlike every other student in that school, saw the real Tina, the hardworking Tina, the Tina who always did everything to make sure that both her and her sister would be able to have the best possible future.  

So, with awkward smiles exchanged, a beautiful friendship started, a friendship that was made out of a need, a friendship that was found in two people who knew each other but had never had the chance to truly communicate with one another and, as Tina watched Benjamin leave to spend Christmas with his parents, she felt happy to have finally found a friend.

The happiness she felt didn’t last long. As the months kept passing and the end of the school year kept getting closer and closer, both friends came to the realisation that they would have to eventually separate. Tina was staying in America, having already received her acceptance letter to be able to train under MACUSA, while Benjamin was going to move to France where he would study Potions under the utmost respected master.

The goodbye was inevitable and, as Tina tearfully separated from her hug with Benjamin, she got her first kiss.

Porpentina Goldstein was 17 years old when she got her first kiss and, in all honesty, it was not what she expected, the kiss was weird, it was sloppy and both parties clearly had no idea what they were doing. The kiss in itself probably lasted a maximum of 5 seconds but it was enough for both of them to realise that what they thought they had, what they thought was a crush, a start of something more, was merely a need for a physical connection with someone and they had seeked it in the closest person to them, the only one they could reach.

After a few months of back and forth, the letters stopped and Benjamin’s owl never again knocked on Tina’s apartment window.

------------

“What do you mean you are having second thoughts about it” Tina yelled at her ex guardian “I have every single right to be Queenie’s guardian” she started pacing the grounds in front of the women’s desk “for starters I am her sister, and last time I checked, Orphans were normally put in the hands of a willing relative that was over the legal age” she stopped in front of the desk, looking deeply in the shorter women’s eyes “and I just so happen to be of age”

“Well, yes” the petite women said, clearly nervous “but, you see Ms.Goldstein, you are not…” she took a small pause before making a small motion with her hand “married” she shuffled a few papers around before grabbing the one she wanted “and I don’t think it would be wise to leave a minor with a women who isn’t even seeing someone” She handed Tina the document before following it up with a pen “but, if you insist, than all you have to do is sign these documents”

Tina looked at the women standing before her with a death glare. How dare she think for even a second that she can’t take care of her baby sister, something that she has been doing for years, just because she doesn’t have a man by her side. Tina grabbed the papers from the women and read over them as quickly as she could muster. After her quick scan, Tina grabbed the pen the women had handed her and scribbled her signature before hastily returning both the objects back to her.

She walked out of the room with her head held high, she would show that ungrateful women that she didn’t need no one, let alone a man, to help her take care of Queenie.

----------

“Ms. Goldstein?” her mentor called out to her. Tina was one of the few females who were accepted into the auror training program. most of her co workers were man and the ones that weren’t didn’t like her very much.

“Ms. Goldstein, there you are,” the short blond man said approaching her.

Mr. Ambro was a nice man, to say he didn’t have flaws though was something else, but, considering the fact that he was the one who treated her with the most respect, she couldn’t complain. “You are late again, ms. Goldstein, I have been looking for you everywhere”

Tina looked down, clearly ashamed “I am sorry, Mr Ambro” she said biting her lip, a nervous tick she had to get rid of “I was..” she paused, not knowing what to say, if she were to tell Mr.Ambro the real reason she was late, that some women in other units were holding her up because they wanted to make fun of her, well, she would not hear the end of it “... In the bathroom” yes, bathroom, that was a safe bet... Or so she thought.

“Oh, I see” Mr. Ambro said with a slight chuckle “you went to the bathroom” he smirked at her “were there any gentleman at said bathroom, Ms. Goldstein?”

Tina felt the heat rising up her face as she struggled to form a sentence “No, of course not.” she said, trying to quickly take her mentor’s mind out of that “in fact, I haven’t been with anyone since I was 17” Tina looked down “If that even counts as being with someone” she whispered under her breath.

“Well, no worries, child” Mr. Ambro said grabbing her arm to make her walk “one day some guy will look at you and notice that you were the missing piece from his life all along”

Tina wished she could trust Mr. Ambro, she wished she believed him but, being 20 years old and having to watch your younger sister jump from relationship to relationship your whole life while constantly being compared to her beauty, well, she just didn’t have any hope left.

--------

“So, Tina” she heard one of the other aurors say as she reached her desk “you and that Magizoologist are you, you know, dating?”

The room was suddenly ten times hotter as the heat in her face became more and more intense “No, no of course not” she said looking down at her papers and trying to concentrate on them instead of her curious co worker.

The auror hummed as she opened her mouth to speak again “I figured so,” she said laughing slightly “no wizard would be able to fall for you, no matter how desperate,” she looked at Tina with such intensity that she felt as if she was naked and had nowhere to hide.

The clicking of heels slowly made their way back and away from Tina as she was finally able to relax. Had she thought about the possibility of dating Newt? of curse she had, but she also knew that there was no chance of that happening. Sure Newt had offered to hand her his book in person and the letters that they sent to each other were lovely but, like always, Newt always treated Tina as nothing more than a friend and maybe he just wanted to see her as a friend when he came back to deliver her his book. Nothing more, just friends. Tina was okay with that. She wanted to believe she was okay with that at least.

Weeks had passed and then, months, until finally, it happened. Newt’s book had finally been released and, everytime Tina saw a new person come out of a bookstore with one of his books, she would feel an ache deep in her chest and a thought, a question that would pop into her head every single time. Why hasn’t he come back yet?

The week after the book release, Tina’s question was answered. As soon as the young witch stepped into her New York flat that she shared with her younger sister, she knew something was wrong. The thing that gave it away first and foremost was her sister, as she looked at the older Goldstein with worry written all over her face.

“Teenie, you are here early,” Queenie said, plastering on a highly false smile.

“ No I am not,” Tina entered the room and took a closer look at her sister before noting a magazine hidden behind her. “What’s that?” she asked taking a closer step towards her sister.

“What’s what, honey?” the false smile became slightly wider as Queenie backed up towards the wall, trying to move away from her.

“That magazine behind your back, a magazine that you are quite clearly trying to hide from me” Tina grabbed her wand and, before Queenie could do anything, she summoned the magazine, catching it flawlessly.

What Tina saw in the cover made her heart jump. There in the front of the magazine was Newt and under the cover was the page that would lead her to his article. Quickly flipping through the pages, Tina finally came upon the right article, with a picture of Newt in the centre of a table and three more people standing on either side of him, one was hidden away, a girl that looked so out of place and like she wanted to be anywhere but there, on his other side was a tall man on the farthest corner, a man that looked a lot like Newt, a man Tina had heard quite a lot about, Theseus Scamander, the war hero and also, Newt’s brother. But it wasn’t any of them that peaked Tina’s interest, the one person that made the brunette's heart fall was the one women who was standing the closest to Newt, with her hand touching Newt’s arm. Leta Lestrange. The first women he fell in love with, the women who’s picture he carries.

Newt Scamander is to be married to Leta Lestrange. That, at least, is what the article told Tina, and, even though she knew magazines told a lot of lies, she couldn’t help but believe this one. After all Leta was a gorgeous women, she was Newt’s first love and who wouldn’t jump at the opportunity of marrying your first love? Tina chucked the magazine back at her sister before finally speaking “I don’t know why you would want to hide that magazine from me, Queenie” she said not looking anywhere near her sister “it’s not like I have ever had any romantic affiliations with Newt”

“Don’t lie to me Teenie” Queenie placed the magazine down on the kitchen table before making her way towards her sister, “I know how he felt every time he looked at you, that boy was fascinated by you, he wanted to be more than friends”

A slow, soft chuckle escaped Tina’s lips as she turned back towards her sister “yeah, of course” she said bitterly moving past Queenie and checking the pans before waving her wand to set the table “if he wanted to be more than friends, don’t you think he would, oh I don’t know, still be single or at least not engaged?”

“Magazines lie, Tina, you know that,” Queenie waved her own wand to make the food fly from the pots to the recently placed plates, “did Newt say anything about Leta in his latest letters?” she asked while moving to sit as her sister did the same.

“No.”

“Then I think you have your answer,” the younger Goldstein smiled slightly, grabbing her fork so that she could start eating

“He could also be sparing my feelings,” Tina grumbled before grabbing a mouthful of food

“You never know, Tina.”

“That’s exactly it though,” Tina swallowed her food before continuing, “You never know, so with that same logic Newt might be living his life and engaged to Leta.”  How else would you explain the fact that he hasn’t come back to deliver her copy?

The dinner progressed without any talk. Tina was too busy with her thoughts and trying to keep her sister out of her head while Queenie was busy thinking about the man who had captured her heart, the man she knew Tina would never approve of a relationship.

Weeks passed and as Newt’s last letter came, Tina decided it was time to cut all ties with the British man, she didn’t want to be known as the women who ruined a perfectly good marriage.

--------

“Tina, wait up” Achilles Tolliver, a new recruit who had been assigned as her partner yelled after her.

“What do you want, Tolliver,” Tina stopped before turning and coming face to face with the young man. Well she couldn’t exactly call him that considering that he was the same age as she but, in retrospect, they were both young. At 26 and working for MACUSA for a mere 3 weeks, Achilles Tolliver had gained quite the reputation. The tall muscular man was any witches dream, he was handsome and had piercing blue eyes accompanied by beautiful brown hair. Tina, being tall herself, was below his eye level which meant that she had to lift her head to make the slightest eye contact with the 6’4 man standing before her.

“A guy can’t talk to his partner anymore?” the auror asked as a playful grin made its way into his lips, making Tina roll her eyes.

“Yes he can, as long as it is strictly professional” she resumed walking to her desk, wanting to finish her paperwork as quickly as she could. If there was one thing about being an auror that Porpentina Goldstein hated, it was paperwork.

“Of course, I’m always professional,” he leaned over before whispering in her ear and sending a chill down her spine “after work we can be less professional tough right?” Tina could feel the smirk that appeared on his lips as a blush made its way to her face.

“Then speak to me after work, Tolliver, not during it” she quickly regained her composure as she heard Achilles laugh and return to his desk.

The paperwork was hell, like always, but as soon as it was done Tina felt a gigantic weight being lifted from her shoulder. As she made her way out of the MACUSA office, she felt a small and light tap on her shoulder, turning around to see Achilles smiling shyly at her.

“Want to have that non professional conversation, Tolliver?” she raised her eyebrows and Achilles nodded. “Follow me, there is a coffee shop down the street that I quite like.”

The two made their way out onto the street as they approached a small coffee shop. The shop was one of Tina’s favorites, it had the perfect coffee, not too bitter and not too sweet, and it also had the best pastries the only place that could out their pastries was Jacob’s bakery but Tina would rather not take a MACUSA auror there.

“Nice place” Achilles said, taking a seat in one of the tables closest to the window.

“Yeah, I come here every time I’m feeling stressed” Tina took a seat opposite of him “It has the kind of welcoming environment that helps you calm down” she smiled as the waitress made her way to their table.

“Good afternoon Ms. Goldstein,” Beatrice said smiling down at Tina before looking over at Achilles “and who must this be?”

Beatrice was nice girl, she was about 20 years old and always made the effort to be Tina’s waitress with the young witch taking a liking to the older auror. One thing that coffee shop also had was the fact that it was run by a family of wizards and it made using magic much easier.

“This is Achilles Tolliver, a colleague of mine”

“You work with the person for weeks and go on missions where you literally have each other's lives on your hands but yeah, still a colleague,” he smirked at Tina as she rolled her eyes

“Sorry. Beatrice, This is my friend,” Tina looked at Achilles before looking back at Beatrice “Achilles Tolliver. Achilles, this is Beatrice Bernards. Her parents own this coffee shop”

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Bernards,” Achilles said courtly, bowing his head slightly as Beatrice giggled a little.

“Nice to meet you too, Mr. Tolliver,” she grabbed her pen and notepad before continuing “Anything you would like to order?”

“Just one black coffee and a muffin for me” Tina said before Beatrice looked over at Achilles and asked the same question.

“Same for me” he smiled slightly before the young girl skipped off.

“Nice kid” he looked at Tina before grabbing her hand “she seems very fond of you”

Tina smirked before letting out a small chuckle “Well, if it makes you feel any better, she seems quite fond of you too.”

Achilles laughed before squeezing her hand and letting it go as Beatrice brought back their orders.

“She is not my type though,” the auror said taking a sip of his coffee before looking at Tina “I am interested in another witch at the moment, an older, wise auror, you know.”

He took a bite out of his muffin as Tina choked on her coffee at his words. What… What could he possibly mean by that? Tina coughed slightly, clearing her throat, before asking “Do--does that witch have a name?”

“She does,” he smirked before cleaning his mouth with a napkin “It would be weird if she didn’t, wouldn’t it”

Tina laughed “I guess so,” she paused and took a bite of her muffin, swallowing it before speaking again “would you care to share her name with me though?”

Achilles chuckled slightly.“I think you already know, Tina.” He reached over the table to, once again, grabbing her hand.

“I— I think so too,” she slowly said looking down at their hands before looking up at him “but I’d still like a verbal confirmation and— and some time to think about it”  

Achilles smiled slightly. “Her name is Porpentina Goldstein,” he said making Tina’s eyes go wide “but she would rather be called Tina, a fact that I quickly learned” he chuckled, clearly remembering the first and only time he had called her Porpentina, the fury in her face and words scared the crap out of him “and, I respect the fact that she wants to think about it but, I hope that once she decides on her decision, she will tell me if she would like to go on a date with me at Central Park this Saturday, giving her a full 5 days to decide,” he looked at her as if urging her to say something, anything, before letting go of her hands and going back to eat his muffin.

“I-” Tina started, trying to organize her thoughts “I will give you an answer by Friday.” she said, taking a sip of her coffee quickly after “but that also means that I only have 4 days, instead of 5,” Tina smirked as Achilles laughed, nearly choking on his coffee.

The rest of the evening went quickly, with both parties being quick to change subjects and falling into an easy conversation.

As soon as Tina got home she was met with a head of blonde hair jumping up to hug her “You got a date!” her younger sister said with happiness.

“What?” Tina didn't know what her sister was talking about, she had just met with Achilles and she hadn’t even agreed to the date yet.

“Some aurors were talking about the fact that you and Achilles Tolliver went out to eat today and how it was clearly a date,” Queenie said, jumping up and down with excitement before bringing her sister into another hug. “Oh Teenie I am so happy you found someone”

To say that Tina was surprised was an understatement, sure she knew that gossip travelled fast but couldn’t she go out with a male friend without it being a date? Her sister’s reaction wasn’t at all surprising though, she knew the younger Goldstein wanted to see her sister happy and she also knew that the blonde women in her arms was mad at a certain writer for, in her own words, pulling her sister along for a ride that was never going to happen.

“Thanks?” Tina said, slowly letting go of her sister “but me and Achilles didn’t go out on a date” her sister’s smile slowly faded before quickly reemerging, having clearly read Tina’s mind.

“But he asked you out on one!”

“He.. Um.. he did..” Tina blushed looking away from her “but I didn’t give him an answer, I said I would think about it”

“Oh, Teenie you have got to say yes, I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?”

He could hate me, Tina thought, he could also never want to speak with me and want to change partners so he wouldn’t have to see my face every single day.

“Now, you stop that, Tina” Queenie quickly interjected her thoughts “don’t you dare think like that” she approached her sister once again and moved her face so she would look at her “Achilles was the one to ask you on a date, wasn’t he?”

“Yes”

“Then that means that he at least likes you enough that he wants to get to know you, he wants to give you a chance to fully enter his heart and maybe, just maybe, that is not such a bad thing.”

Tina looked deep into her sister’s eyes before being sure that Queenie was but truthful with her words. She did have a point after all, if Achilles had gone out of his way to ask her out on a date than that probably meant that he actually wanted to get to know her better and thought of her as a possible love interest. Yeah, maybe that wasn’t so bad after all.

With her mind made, Tina followed the next week observing Achilles to see how he acted when interacting with other people, with other coworkers and comparing it to how he interacted with her. After making sure that he was not leading her on, that he was actually truthful about this date. She decided on an answer.

“So, Tina, have you made up your mind?” Achilles asked the Friday that he was promised the answer to his question .

“I’m glad you finally decided to keep non work related subjects to be talked about outside of work” and, to be completely honest, she was actually very glad on his decision. Tina could not let her job escape her again and wanted, no, needed to be nothing but professional in the work space.

“I am glad too,” Achilles smiled as he gave Tina his arm so that she could hold onto it as they walked.

Tina grabbed onto the given arm as they started walking towards her apartment, deciding to give herself some time to organise her thoughts “You know, I did some research after your invite,” she started, looking forwards as Achilles hummed beside her “I watched the way you interacted with people to make sure that you were not leading me on.”

The man beside her gave a slight laugh “I presume I did well on that test,” he looked at her “since I didn’t  have eyes on anyone but you.”

Tina blushed before clearing her throat and continuing her speech, a little flustered now “Well, yes, yes you did” she smiled a little to the ground “so, after intense” she looked pointly at him as he laughed “research I decided to accept your offer and go on a date with you tomorrow around Central Park.”

Achilles’ smile grew as he looked at her with the utmost happiness in his eyes “I promise you will not regret your decision, Tina,” he turned to her as they reached the apartment building “pick you up at 1 in the afternoon?”

“I will be waiting.”

And she was. The next day as 1pm rolled around, Tina was waiting with her light blue casual dress and, once she heard the knock on her door, she let herself give out a worried breath, being glad her sister was stuck at work today for she would not be able to take the teasing if she was present.

The date went well, very well actually, she couldn't help but smile throughout it all and Achilles was super sweet and funny and the perfect gentleman. The only question was, why did she still have a certain Magizoologist on her mind? This man, standing before her, this man that had just taken her out on a very lovely date and was… did he just?

“Wait, what?” Tina asked, not believing her ears.

“I said that you looked beautiful today, Tina,” he smiled down at her “Actually, you look beautiful every single day.”

The blush had once again returned to her face. No one had ever called her beautiful, pretty, sure, but never beautiful, especially not a man. “You think I am beautiful?”

“Of course I do and trust me when I say, anyone that doesn’t see your beauty is a blind man.”

He said goodbye after that but the dates kept coming and, after every date things would start progressing. By the third date he had mustered up the courage to ask her for a kiss goodbye, a kiss she had gladly given him and, by the fifth one, he had asked if she wanted to become his girlfriend, to make this courtship actually happen. An offer she had accepted without much thought.

Dating Achilles was… good? Tina did like his companionship and she did have a deep care for him but, was it love? Could she outright say that she loved him? As much as it pained her, she knew the answer to that question. Tina Goldstein did not love Achilles Tolliver. Not romantically at least. But, despite that, Tina couldn’t bring herself to break up with him, for the friendship they developed over the months was way too big of one to just be thrown away.

“Tina,” Achilles approached her after the toughest mission they have ever had, a mission that left a good percentage of her colleagues dead, something Tina could not bring herself to think about. “Tina,” he grabbed her shoulder, moving to sit beside her on the floor. The mission had ended and now the remaining aurors were spread out, each in a different corner of MACUSA, each trying to come to terms with their pain, physical and mental. “I think we need to talk.”

Tina looked up at Achilles, worry written all over her face “what do you mean?”

“You don’t love me” he didn’t ask a question, simply stated a fact. “Don’t worry about it,” he looked at her, bringing up his hand to touch her cheek “I don’t think what I feel for you is love, either.”

Tina laid her head on his shoulder, reaching for his hand and interlacing his finger with hers “what do we do now?” she asked, feeling a few tears swell up in her eyes “I don’t want to lose your friendship.”

“I don’t want to lose yours either,” he reached over to wipe the tear that had fallen from her eye with the hand that wasn't interlaced with hers as she slowly lifted her head to look into his eyes.

“So, can we stay friends, no strings attached?” she asked, hoping for the right answer, the answer that would bring her joy.    

“Of course we can, Porppie,” he laughed, using the nickname that she hated, before she jokingly slapped him on his chest. Demonstrating that, even though they had dated and had that past, they could still move forward in their relationship but this time, instead of a romantic relationship they would choose the right path and love each other the way they knew how, platonically.

---------

“Tina,” she heard Newt whisper as he slowly got closer to her, afraid that if he walked any faster she would get startled like a scared beast.

After the events of Paris Tina had come to realise that the one thing that was the most precious to her, the one thing that she had had throughout all of her life, could disappear in a seconds notice. Porpentina Esther Goldstein had officially lost her sister and she was not okay.

Newt had found her in his basement after he had assumed everyone had gone off to sleep. Jacob of course being the first one to go, having to share a room with the Magizoologist when the bed was transfigured into two, with Nagini soon following, her choosing to sleep in the case, where she felt the most comfortable. Theseus and Yusuf went back to their respective homes, agreeing to see all of them in a weeks notice, after everything in the ministry was cleared up.

Tina on the other hand could neither go back to MACUSA, since going to New York without Queenie would be too much and she had already cleared everything up with MACUSA sending her over to the UK to work with a small team that would be coming later, nor fall asleep, having turned around in the guestroom’s double bed for half an hour before giving up, instead of staying there she decided to go down to the basement where the beasts were to see if she could clear up her mind.

Newt had decided to take a midnight stroll around his house to check if everything was alright and if every beast was comfortable, especially the Zouwu and the Niffler, one for being new and the other for having an injury. As soon as Newt reached the basement he realised the he did not have much to worry about as Tina was now leaning against the Zouwu who was quite comfortably lying behind her, while the Niffler decided to prop himself in Tina’s lap while she caressed his back and slept soundly.

“Hey,” she whispered as not to wake up the Niffler on her lap “sorry, I kind of took posse of your basement, I just needed a place to think through everything that happened.”

“That’s absolutely fine,” The British man smiled before getting closer and standing over her, slowly exchanging a hand for her to take “Do you want to walk around a little” he said before quickly adding “Only if you want, of course, I would never, want to put you in a situation where you felt an obliga--”

“I would love to walk around the basement with you, Newt,” Tina quickly interjected his rembeling, knowing that if she let him go on they would be there for much longer than needed.

Tina slowly placed the Niffler beside her as she accepted Newt’s outstretched hand and got up, with the Zouwu encircling herself around the NIffler to produce warmth to the injured creature.

Newt smiled at his creatures actions before offering Tina his arm - one that she gladly took - and started heading to the deeper enclosures, ones with long grassy paths and trees so tall that it felt like you were walking through a forest.

“You know what I love about working with different animals?” Newt asked, not making eye contact nor looking at her at all, instead choosing to keep his head propped forward and his eyes fixed ahead.

Tina had a few guesses on what Newt’s answer could possibly be but chose not to guess them, instead opting to stay silent with only the smallest of nods to indicate that she was listening and wanted him to keep talking.

Newt, having seen her nod from his peripheral vision, went on with his short speech “I love to see the unity that they can have with each other, the way that they quickly adapt for survival, how they keep their family close choosing to protect their loved ones at all cost and, especially, how they lack the horrible easiness that we humans have on judging one another.”

He, in his part, finished the speech with such love, such passion that Tina couldn’t help but feel a little bit of happiness overtake her body as the last few words came out of his mouth. The man standing beside her had a deep understanding and love towards his creatures that Tina had never seen in anyone before and she could not imagine how anyone was able to look past that, how anyone would be dumb enough not to quickly fall in love with this wonderful and caring wizard. But, maybe, just maybe, the second absurd fact was a good thing, for Tina anyways.

After a few more minutes of walking Tina heard Newt take a deep, steady breath before slowly bringing them both to a halt in front of a big beautiful tree with long branches that stretched out over their heads and leaves so green that they seemed to glow under the artificial moonlight. Tina felt her heart skip a beat as Newt turned to her and grabbed a hold of both of her hands as he tried his hardest to make eye contact with her, failing a little at times but trying nonetheless.

“Do you know why I told you about my favorite things about working with creatures?” She heard Newt ask before shaking her head no and waiting to hear what sort of response the Magizoologist would come up with. “I told you that because I see you the same way I see my creatures,” he said before quickly cutting himself off, trying to explain what he meant with that “well, not in the sense that I have to take care of you, of course, because I know that you are very capable of taking care of yourself and everything I just meant that— that—“ Newt paused not knowing what to say and having to re formulate his thoughts as Tina patiently waited, knowing that he had a certain difficulty to convey what he was feeling.

“What I wanted to say” he started again, regaining his breath and once more trying to make eye contact with her so that she would know that every single thing that came out of his mouth was the absolute truth. “Is that...” his eyes fell to the ground, taking a second before they fell upon hers again “that you, Tina, are a lot like my creatures. You nurture people, helping them when they are injured, you will do anything and I truly mean anything for your family,” he knew that Tina was upset about Queenie, knew that she blamed herself for what happened to the young, blonde witch but Newt would not let herself take all the blame, he knew that what happened to Queenie was no one's fault. She was, after all, persuaded by Grindelwald's charismatic skill and silver tongue. Most people, especially people that were in the state Queenie was, would not resist him and his ideas that he bends to the person’s desires.

Even Though Newt’s words about family were nice, Tina could not take them to heart, the hurt she felt on her heart still persisted and it didn’t look like it was going to go away any time soon. So, instead of saying anything Tina just simply looked at him, waiting to see if he was going to say anything else,

“But what I think is one of your most incredible traits,” he continued, this time giving Tina’s hand a slight squeeze as he forced himself to keep on making eye contact to truly get the message through to her “is the fact that you do not judge people with ease, a trait, that in my opinion, is very important, especially to someone in your line of work”

Tina blushed slightly as Newt finished talking, this time being the one to avert her gaze. “Thank you, Newt,” she smiled at the ground shyly as she felt his calloused hand touch her chin, lifting it up so she would meet his eyes.

“I don’t think you understand how special you are, Tina,” he now had a slight worried gaze as he moved his hand from her chin to her cheek, Tina leaning into his touch as he did so “you are the most amazing women I have ever met, actually, scratch that, you are the most amazing human I have ever met and I want you to know just how special you are to me but I don't know how to make you understand”

Tina looked at him, tears on the verge of escaping, “I think you do, Newt” she leaned in closer as he slowly did the same “I think you at least have a slight idea of what action would show someone that they are special like no other.”

Newt’s hand slid from her face to her hips as the other enveloped around her from behind, reaching up her back, bringing them closer together “I may have a slight idea, yeah,” he whispered when their faces were inches apart, their breath being felt on the others face as their eyelids hung loosely closed.

Tina smiled a little before fully wrapping her arms around Newt’s neck, one hand resting on his shoulder while the other played with his hair. Once their lips finally touched, their eyes coming to a full close, Tina could feel, what could only be described as, small explosions happening inseid her stamach. So this is what it was like to kiss someone you could see yourself falling in love with, she thought, trying to get as close as possible to Newt with as much body contact as she could.

Both adults had never felt such an intense feeling like the one they were feeling now, they never felt so much passion and want being put into one single kiss, a kiss that, even though it only lasted about a minute, showed just how much they meant to the other, both pouring their hearts and souls into this one, single kiss.

As the kiss came to an end and the lovers slowly separated, they took a minute to catch their breath and take in their surrounding as they slowly regained their senses.

Tina was the first to open her eyes, watching Newt catch his breath while taking a second to look over every feature on the wizard’s face, counting every freckle and looking at every spot, from his hair, now pushed back and even messier than before, to the tip of his nose finally landing on his full lips, swollen and red from the kiss they had just shared.

“Would,” she heard Newt say as he slowly opened his eyes “would it be too soon to ask if you wanted to be my girlfriend?” his hopeful, shy eyes looked between her and the floor as he nervously held her in place.

she giggled at his question before leaning in and giving him a slight peck “I think we have waited long enough, Mr. Scamander” she responded and, before he could get another word out, she leaned into him, capturing his lips once more, this time making the kiss more passionate and deeper than before.

Newt begrudgingly broke the kiss before looking at her as she slowly opened her eyes once again, both trying to catch their breath for the second time in a few minutes. “So, is that a ‘no, it’s not too soon’ or a ‘I will be your girlfriend’?” he asked as Tina chuckled slightly.

“Both,” she said, leaning her head down so that it rested against his shoulder, lightly nuzzling his neck “now, is that all you wanted to ask?” she smirked against his neck before kissing it lightly, sending a shiver down Newt’s spine.

The poor man didn’t know what to do as she slowly dropped more and more kisses down his neck “Tina” he moaned, throwing his head back while giving her more access “to-- um to answer your- you-- your question”he struggled to get words out as the flutter of kisses made its way up from his neck his earlobe “I am done speaking”

Tina reached the corner of his mouth before quietly whispering against it “then be done speaking, Scamander”

As soon as those words left the witch’s mouth, Newt quickly grabbed a strong hold on her waist again before quickly crashing his lips against hers, pushing her against the tree, making it so she was stuck between himself and the wood.

Tina felt the air being flung out of her body as Newt crashed her against the tree, deepening the kiss in the process. He licked her bottom lip, trying to gain access to her mouth and, once she happily granted that access, he started moving his hands around her body, trying to discover every single detail that she had hidden there.

The kiss slowly became less intense as their blood cooled down, letting them go back into a calmer form of kissing, their lips moving in sync as Newt slowly took his weight off of Tina.

They separated for one last time as they looked at eachother, shy smiles forming on both of their faces. “Well, that was…” Newt started, not knowing how to finish his sentence as he still held onto Tina.

“Wasn’t it?” Tina decided to call back to their time in the harbor, him leaving to return to England and her staying in New York but this time, as the words were said, there was no doubt about their feelings towards each other.

Newt laughed before slowly untangling himself from her, his hands coming back to rest on his side as Tina grabbed her wand and with a quick flick of the wrist, fixed both her hair and clothes. She looked over at Newt, knitting her eyebrows together slightly before a sly smirk appeared on her face.

If Tina thought that Newt’s hair was messy before then she didn’t know what to call the state of his hair now, there was no telling what direction his hair was supposed to be in and, if she was being honest with herself, she quite liked the idea that she had been the one to do that to him.

Newt, noticing Tina’s looks, was quick to blush as he grabbed his wand out of his pocket but, instead of smoothly grabbing it to fix his appearance, the wand got stuck to the edge of the pocket making it fall to the ground, Newt going quickly after it in hopes of catching the wand. Making a successful catch, he propped back up to his full height stretching himself before doing the same wrist movement as Tina and putting both his clothes and hair back into the place they were supposed to be.

Tina had to cover her mouth with her hand to stop herself from laughing, a gesture that did not go unnoticed by Newt who smiled in return “I can be quite clumsy, can’t I?” He said ducking his head as another blush made its way to his already red cheeks.

“I find it to be one of your most amusing quirks” she smiled lifting his head before giving him a small peck on the lips “I quite like all of your quirks if I’m being honest” she smiled as the blush that was already pleasant became darker becoming quite apparent against Newt’s white skin underneath. “I do think it would be wise for both of us to head to bed though” the American witch said, grabbing Newt’s hand before dragging him up the stairs as he nodded slightly.

They were quick to make their way up the stairs, not looking at each other nor talking, both being too busy with their own thoughts.

The next day went by in a haze, both Tina and Newt agreed to keep the news of their courtship to themselves since there were two people in their group who had recently lost the love of their lives, Theseus and Jacob, one to death and the other to war, both to Grindelwald.

A week passed and Tina’s team finally arrived. Her team was made out of handpicked aurors with Tina leading since she was the only one who faced Grindelwald twice. The aurors were both chosen by Tina herself and Piquery, they were tested on loyalty, skill and resistance. Among the team of aurors was, of course, Achilles Tolliver and, even though he had a rough start with Newt - some things might have happened that are best not spoken -  they did form a good friendship, with Newt realising how important Achilles’ friendship was to Tina. The group was made out of 5 integrants, the youngest of which was Henry Greyson, a young 20 year old who had promise and was also Tina’s trainee before she left for Paris. The other two aurors were May Brig and Lance Millon, May was 32 and Lance, being the oldest, was 35. The decision to keep the group short was mutual between all, as they decided that each country would have 5 members in the front lines working with MOM and around Europe, which was the place Grindelwald seemed most fond of, to capture the dark wizard and bring some of his followers, if possible, back to their side or just towards questioning.

On the next week of the MACUSA aurors arrival, Jacob walked into Newt and Tina, both were in Newt’s room and didn’t notice the no-maj approaching as they were pretty… busy… Let’s just say that Jacob was both surprised and blushing once he saw them - they had their clothes on, you pervert - the baker quickly spread the news around, much to Newt and Tina’s dismay but they figured that it was better sooner than later and maybe not having to hide their relationship anymore was a good thing.

Months passed and then years and before Tina knew it, she was standing in her room as she slowly got ready to be married off to the man of her dreams, to the one who could make any day better and always knew what to do to make her happy and to imagine that she would soon be walking down the makeshift aisle they had made in his suitcase to greet him and later become his wife. That thought made her heart fill up with all kinds of happiness.

She still felt like something was missing though, something important, or, to be more exact, someone.

1 year after the Paris events, they had finally found Grindelwald and with him, Queenie. The battle that took place that day was gruesome to say the least, so many aurors died and just as many followers but, as one of the followers made movement to shoot Tina with a deadly curse, she saw Queenie, her sister, the baby she helped raise, jump in front of her and be struck with the curse that was meant to kill her.

She had quickly struck the follower with her own curse, sending him flying backwards as she fell down with her knees hitting the ground right beside where her sister laid. Tina was quick to grab the young blonde… well.. she was supposed to be blonde but the blood that was rapidly escaping her head had turned her once beautiful blonde curls into an auburn color, sticking to her head as if it was glue. she had cried for her sister to say something, to wake up or move or show some sign, any sign, of being alive. But Tina knew that her once lively and bubbilly sister was nomore and the body that laid in her arms was nothing but a shell of what once was.

Tina grabbed her wand and quickly retouched her makeup to what it was before as she heard a knock on the door, telling her someone was waiting and that she was probably going to be late to her own wedding.

“Come in” she said already having her makeup fixed and checking in the mirror to see if there was anything left that needed fixing, making sure everything was ready, she turned around to see Achilles standing by the door while wearing a grin on his face.

“You look magnificent, Teenie” he whispered as he slowly gave her a tight hug “Newt is a lucky man” he let go of her, looking down at his own wedding ring from his marriage a few months ago, where Tina was his ‘best man’ or ‘best women’ as he said when asking her if she would do it. His wife was a good woman and she had developed a good friendship with her, with the both of them inviting her and Newt over to their house to chat and eat some of the baked goods Jacob had provided.

“Are you ready,” he asked, giving her his arm to take.

“I think so” she responded as she slowly grabbed the extended arm and they began walking towards the ceremony “Thank you for agreeing to walking me down the aisle”

“It was no problem” he smiled down at her “thank you for asking me”

The pair slowly made their way into the case, opening it and carefully climbing down before opening the shed’s door and stepping outside to be greeted by their friends and family. As Tina passed through all the friends her and Newt had managed to make along their journey, friends that had eventually become like family to the both of them and, as she looked forwards to see Jacob smiling while holding a nervous but happy Newt beside him, she couldn’t help but feel pride in the family she made and joy along with excitement at the adventures that she and Newt would have ahead of them, this time as a married couple.

“Are we ready to start this?” Theseus asked from his perch as he got ready to marry them.

“Absolutely.”

[drrjsb]

Body and Soul: The Endgame Fix

Part 5: Lunch and Learn

Summary: It's still Monday, Oct. 30, 2023. Bruce drives Natasha through his adopted town of Bridgewater and on to his house. News travels fast. They have company waiting.

[Monday, Oct. 30, 2023] It was a pleasant ride to Bridgewater with no real traffic since it was only about 11:00 am on a Monday, and the highway route he took was mostly through the countryside. It didn’t hurt that it was Autumn and everything was tinged golden, crimson, and orange, especially the hard maples and oaks. It was good to be away from the muddy pit and construction at the Compound. It was even better to have Natasha finally coming home with him.

Bruce could have taken the second exit and arrived home by a quicker route, but he’d wanted to show her the historic part of the town that he’d adopted or, more actually, that chose to adopt him. There was a bit of a strip mall out by the highway, but “Old Bridgewater” (or just “Downtown” to the locals) was picturesque with a river cutting through the middle of town and several beautiful arched stone bridges and Victorian-style houses and other striking architecture.

At one time, it had been a mill town and produced woven fabrics, but those days were far in the past. Now it was a quaint, bedroom community headed toward being an outer, outer suburb with a little light industry and tech to go with some agriculture that had been given a boost by the Decimation. Nat was surprised at the number of people who recognized them and waved from the sidewalk at Bruce. He’d rolled his window down to return their casual waves. She smiled as she realized he genuinely enjoyed the interactions and wondered if any of them were “Hulkies” like Marsha had mentioned.

Bruce laughed when a couple of preschool-aged kids pointed eagerly at their vehicle while they waited on a red light to change. The small girl and boy both broke into bicep-flexing poses. He returned the flexed salutes with one of his own. “Hulk out!” he called to them, and they squealed with glee. “You can always tell the kids who’ve watched the Go Green Science  videos because they get all excited like that. Sometimes I think it’s really the HX everyone is impressed with since it’s unusually large. To most of the local folks, seeing me or the vehicle isn’t such a big deal anymore unless they’ve just been snapped back, so there’s just kind of a wave hello to a neighbor. ‘Nice to see you.’ I like that about this place.” Nat thought he was being modest about some of the attention. She’d spotted a few people sneaking pictures, too. Were they Hulkies?

Just when they seemed to have reached the end of town, he’d taken a turn to the right and paralleled the river as it flowed around a bend. When they came around the curve and the trees no longer obstructed the view, Natasha’s mouth dropped open. “You bought a castle?!”

Bruce laughed, “No, it’s just a big crazy Victorian-style house with some round rooms and stonework. It has three and a half stories and a finished basement. The mill and warehouse are also Victorian era, like most of Main Street, on the outside, but I have cutting-edge lab and workshop space inside.”

“Your house has turrets, Bruce. It’s a castle.”

“Fine, I’m ‘The Beast’ in a castle now,” he joked, deepening his voice. “I guess that makes you Belle?”

“I’d be your Belle. Got a library?” Natasha teased back.“Do I have a library?! Have you been impersonated by a Skrull for five years?” He was completely happy to see her smile and joke with him again; it gave him faith they could at least try to make a go of it together this time. He hadn’t exactly rebuilt the house and grounds just for her, but he’d put a lot of his love for her into it with the vague hope that someday she’d see it. Now, he hoped she’d fall in love with it as he had.

The gravel crunched under the HX’s wheels as Bruce pulled up to the gate in the decorative, yet substantial steel fence surrounding the property. There was a camera, but no gatehouse, and he rolled the window down and pressed in a code on a panel then let it read his left thumbprint. Bruce scanned the driveway ahead that forked off to the house on the left and the old factory complex with the labs on the right. “That’s kind of weird. Usually, Sirius is front and center as soon as he hears the car on the gravel. Maybe Vella shut him inside by accident before she left?” he hypothesized. He didn’t believe it for a minute, but no need to go on high alert just yet. After the metal gate rolled back, Bruce drove cautiously down the drive and parked the vehicle in its usual spot in the driveway where the pavement circled behind the house, near the back porch. “Please do me a favor and sit tight for a minute, Nat. I want to see where the dog is.” Bruce opened up a panel above the rearview mirror and pointed to a toggle switch. “I want you to flip this when I get out. The vehicle is a bunker if it needs to be. With you just back . . .”

“Do you have a gun in here?” Natasha demanded, her voice all business.

“Promise me you won’t get out of the car unless it’s 100% necessary.”

“80%.”

“Deal. I have one of your old Glock 26s in that wooden box in the backseat. It’s loaded, 10 shots, but I don’t have any extra rounds. Also, I have neighbors within earshot, and I would prefer not to scare them shitless.”

“Got it. I promise I will sit tight until things go south.”

“Make that 80% south,” Bruce reminded her before he left Natasha in the HX. She was as good as her word and engaged the “bunker” mode, which involved a form of nanotech that reinforced the existing plating, extended it down to the ground, and covered the glass and tires. He hadn’t told her how to disengage the shielding, so he hoped she’d sit tight and let him deal with whoever was here. He was pretty sure he had an idea whom that might be since no sensors were tripped.

“Sirius! Here, boy!” Bruce called and then whistled. There wasn’t the usual happy bark and scrambling of toenails on wood and stone as the big black mix charged out the pet door or careened around the corner of the porch, so Bruce turned to the trees surrounding the backyard. “Barton, if you’re holding my dog hostage, don’t expect to be invited to lunch.”

“I’m not holding it hostage. I just want to talk to whoever you have with you and make sure you aren’t getting made a fool of,” called a familiar raspy voice from behind him. Clint dropped down from the roof on the far corner of the porch. Bruce was relieved to see he wasn’t wearing his “Ronin” gear though he did have his bow and quiver over some basic tac clothing.

“Where is my dog?” Bruce asked, sounding stern.

“It went in the door thing. Hasn’t come back out.”

“Why would that be?”

“It wasn’t exactly staying quiet.” Bruce scowled at him. “It may have gotten a little sleeping gas before he went to bed.”

“You gassed my dog.”

“It’ll be fine in about an hour.”

“I cannot believe you gassed my dog,” Bruce said in a low growl.

“It’s a big dog with a bigger bark, okay!?”

Bruce didn’t mean to be losing his temper, but now he was pissed off. “He’s an overgrown puppy for crying out loud, Clint, not a guard dog. Try a dog treat.” He unclenched the fingers of his right hand again and stepped back. It never helped to loom over smaller people unless you really wanted to fight them or make them piss their pants, he reminded himself. No, he really didn’t want to fight Clint. “Why the fuck couldn’t you just use a phone or wait on the front porch?”

“You could have called. Instead, I had to overhear this from Fury talking to Carol,” the archer accused.

Dammit, Danvers, update your security protocols (or quit having Clint do your dirty work if that’s what was going on), Bruce thought. “I’ve been a little too busy making sure Nat was okay. You gassed the dog, so now what do you have planned to do to Natasha, hmm? Because this IS Natasha. OUR Natasha!”

“How the hell do you know? You weren’t there on Vormir. You didn’t see her let go. That  was Natasha,” Clint said through gritted teeth. They both stared at each other, filled with grief and anger and guilt. It wasn’t necessary, not now, not anymore, but it was hard to let go.

Part of Bruce wanted to step forward and backhand Barton into the next county for all the time he’d had with Natasha that he hadn’t and for failing to die when both Bruce and Hulk would have done it in a heartbeat, but Bruce reminded himself that it no longer made any sense to be jealous and petty about any of it. That wasn’t Nat who died. It was a horrible sacrifice that still had meaning, but it wasn’t one the real Natasha had been fated to make. He straightened back up from the defensive crouch he’d been slipping into and relaxed both hands. Bruce kept his voice low and calm. “Don’t remind me. We were both fooled, Clint. If you want to talk to her, put your weapons on the porch. All of them.” Clint didn’t seem convinced. “Dude, if you don’t believe me, call Maximov. All four of us there agreed this is our Nat. Now, I need to see how the pup is and get Natasha settled because she’s had one hell of a five years, too. Disarm or get the hell off my property. Now.”

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[nightblogofficialbook]

Chapter One

Also available on the Tapas.io Website, search for Night in the Novels tab!

“Helen, time to wake up!”

I turned over with a groan. “My alarm hasn’t even gone off yet, mom,” I complained, burying my head further under the pillow.

“You set that thing way too late, you’re always rushing yourself in the morning!”

Mom clicked the light on and I groaned louder. “Come on, I’ll make you pancakes but you have to get up now little missy.”

I gave in and sat up. My hair was a nest, my muscles still asleep. I yawned and stretched, and got up to walk out of my room to the bathroom to fix my mess.

My name is Helen Morris. I’m sixteen, tired of life, and ready for retirement already. It’s currently 5:30 a.m. thanks to school being an hour’s bus route away from home. In three months I turn seventeen and qualify for driving unsupervised. Not that I have a car to drive, but at least I’ll be able to work without the school stepping in, too. I live with my mom in an old, rickety two-bedroom, one bathroom house with walls that creaked and water that didn’t always run hot for very long. It wasn’t much, but it was paid off and in her name. My dad’s in prison, but I don’t want to think about him.

I got dressed in plain jeans and a blue t-shirt and walked through the hallway to the kitchen. Mom had some homemade blueberry pancakes made up ready the way I usually eat them. I groggily sat down and took a bite, enjoying the flavor for the moment. Mom glanced back at me from the sink where she was cleaning the pans and bowls.

“See, isn’t this nicer than rushing off with no breakfast?” she said matter-of-factly.

“It is, thanks Mom.” I really was grateful to being woken up like this. Mom usually works overnight as a nurse, so mornings like these are the result of her still being awake after her shift. It was hard to fully appreciate it in the moment, though, with the not being fully awake yet and all.

I finished my pancakes and milk, and dropped the dishes in the dishwasher. After finishing up the rest of my boring morning routine of brushing my teeth and getting dressed, I grabbed my bag, hugged my mom, and went out the door for the ten minute walk towards the bus stop.

The air was still cool and crisp, but I knew it was a lie. In two to fours hours it would be hot as hell. I still wore a jacket nonetheless because the school, in addition to being terrible already, did not know what the meaning of climate control is, and tended to have its classrooms ranging from stuffy to freezing. But for these ten quiet minutes, it was a nice morning.

The aged houses and trees of my neighborhood gave way to a more modern urban sprawl, the neighborhood of the better-off kids. I like to think I was only envious of the fact that they had less things to worry about, given their financial stability. Granted, I had no idea what kind of lives lived behind those doors, but I couldn’t help the bitter feeling that it surely couldn’t be anything nearly as bad as the rest of us. I haven’t really been out in the world necessarily yet, but I did see how much mom struggles to keep us afloat and happy.

Past this neighborhood was the community center and library, which is where my bus stop was. Behind this was a large, forested area which I sometimes use as shortcut to get  here from home as it cuts the time in half. Which I frequently have to do. It can be pretty creepy this early in the morning, even more so after dark. But the five minutes of sunset was where it’s at; the way the golden-red rays fell through the trees...it was pretty magical.

Fun fact about this forest; there’s this huge creepy castle that no one ever goes near, somewhere right smack in the middle. It’s not like people aren’t allowed to go near, but, inexplicably, people avoid that place anyway. Some say it’s haunted, some claim it’s not even there. Apparently some have even actually gone in but never came back out. None of it is backed up by anything, but I’ve always avoided the area nonetheless. It’s a bit out of the way from my route home anyway, and I’m not dumb enough to go trespassing on someone else’s property in the middle of the woods.

The bus arrived, and thank goodness, because the other kids at my stop started to arrive at the same time. I didn’t want to interact with anyone if I could help it. One dude quickly put out a cigarette soon as he saw the bus, and a couple girls my age looked disappointed to not have any time to gawk and gossip about the shabbiness of everything in general. Since the bus barn is close to this area, ours was the first stop to be picked up in the mornings, but also the last one to drop in the evenings. Which meant we got first pick on seats but also had to deal with everyone else for the maximum amount of time possible. And this bus picked up both junior high and high schoolers.

I remember being in junior high, I grimaced as a bunch of fourteen/fifteen-year-olds loaded up at the next few stops. It really wasn’t all that long ago honestly, but it was such a weird age. Girls figuring out puberty, boys learning how to be asses but not understanding why girls won’t be attracted to them, but at the same time both genders thinking the other is stupid. I really hated that age. Not that high school is much different, but at least everyone has enough going on to keep out of each other’s business.

The hour passes and I nearly fell asleep as the bus dropped the high schoolers off first. I got my stiff legs moving and made my way into the building.

Classes pass in a daze like usual. Nothing is very interesting, but at least it’s consistent. I know what to expect from my day, and what’s expected of me. I know what periods I’m going to hate, and which ones I can relax in. It really isn’t as bad as I complain about, sometimes. That’s just how life goes. You settle into monotony and enjoy the calm ride however you can.

Unfortunately for today, I had forgotten about my math test. I’m not bad at math, but I’m not great at it either, and the teacher is REALLY confusing most of the time. She needs to seriously consider retirement; hardly anyone could make heads or tails of what she’d say. I bombed the test of course, I forgot to do the practice homework to prepare for it. When I got my test back, there was a note in red pen telling me I need to apply myself or I’m going to have to take remedial lessons. The last thing I needed was even MORE time at school. That would mean I’d have to miss my bus and catch a public bus. Which means getting home after dark and making mom worry.

Last class was just a seminar hour for study, and thankfully I had this with my best friend, Emily. We both took a dead language class as an elective and were translating a runes assignment.

“Tell me if you think this is close,” she said quietly. “Here be a person of shared...tree?”

“That’s the symbol for parent, not tree,” I corrected, “so it should be ‘Here be a person of shared parent.’ They’re saying it’s their sibling.”

“Ooooooohhhh I get it now,” Emily mused. “I swear though, I had to have gotten somebody’s eulogy or something.”

“It might be, it’s gotta be more interesting than mine. I’m pretty sure I just have someones written layout of their town.”

“Seriously though, how are you so good at this? These are dead languages, and the teacher freakin’ loves you.”

I shrugged. “I dunno. I have a hard time with the roman based letters sometimes, which is dumb, but give me runes and I’ve got it. I think it’s because there’s a simpler pattern to decipher for me. Like, the structure just makes sense with the language syntax or something.”

“I dunno,” Emily stared dubiously at her text. “We’re already in the second course and this is still all just gibberish to me.”

“You got that far, though, didn’t you?” I said, gesturing to her project. “You got halfway through the assignment before getting a symbol confused with another.”

“Yeah, but I still have to use a cheat sheet.”

I shrugged again. “Nothing wrong with that. Plus, no one else has it as easy either. Maybe I’m just a weirdo.”

She laughed, and I grinned. Our seminar teacher shushed us angrily, even though we weren’t being that loud. I narrowed my eyes his direction but just let it go. He had always been an ass that could only ever amount to a gym teacher, but it wasn’t worth picking a fight with him. Besides, there was nothing I could really do about it.

School let out and Emily walked with me to my bus. She was one of the lucky ones whose parents were able to have time to pick her up after school. “You think you’ll be able to come over today?” she asked hopefully.

“Sorry, not this time either. Mom wants me to pick up some stuff from the community center for her work and by that point it’ll be almost dark.”

“Dang. You should ask her if it’s cool if my mom just picks you up from school and then takes you home.”

“Ha! Good luck with that, she barely feels comfortable with me riding the bus, let alone someone else’s car.”

We said our goodbyes and I got on the bus to settle in for the hour-long drive back. The town flew by in a blur of hills and houses and trees, every now and then passing through the small business district again as the bus weaved back and forth, unloading it’s contents like a slowly hatching spider’s nest. The tiredness of the day began to weigh on me, and I felt a little guilty for lying to Emily. Mom didn’t actually have anything I needed to get; I just didn’t want to ask her again, only to be told no and reminded of the dangers of why. And with her busy schedule, she really didn’t even have time to meet parents and give proper assessment. It was so frustrating, but even more so because I understood why.

At least, in a few months, I’ll legally be allowed to work, and I’ll be able to use that as a reason for her to allow me to start making my own decisions.

My stop finally arrived, I got off the bus like all the other little spiderlings, and began my walk home. I still have enough time before sunset actually happens and it gets too dark, so I decided to take my nature path through the woods. It was quiet, immediately a different atmosphere from the civilization around the community center. The trees were tall and loomed far overhead, not impossibly tall or really even impressively tall, but gentle. The oaks and sycamores and birches all commingled their leaves, creating this wonderful blanket of patterned light through the summer green foliage. A breeze would sometimes drift through, causing the treetops to shimmer and rustle and bring relief from the fading summer heat. Below my feet was a lightly worn path from all the times I’ve walked through these woods, every now and then branching off into other less worn paths from the times others had walked through here as well. I breathed in and enjoyed the peace. Sometimes I wish I could just live out here, in the trees, away from all the people. Away from all the noise and frustrations of everyone’s expectations.

The peace was short lived of course, as it always was. The path was only a five minute walk after all. And before long I was back near my house with its tall privacy fenced in yard and it’s peeling paint and creaky hinges.

Mom was already awake and getting ready for work, wearing her baby blue scrubs as I walked in.

“Dinner is on the stove,” she instructed, “ and I have the oven on warm so don’t forget it. Remember to keep the doors locked.” She kissed me on the forehead. “Love you baby, be safe.”

“You too mom,” I hugged back, and locked the door as she left. I checked all of the windows and back doors absentmindedly, thinking about how different things would be if things were...well, different. Mom could stay at home and wouldn’t need to work so much, I could possibly have a life outside school and home, though to be honest I don’t know how much I’d actually want that. Maybe we’d have a bigger, newer house.

I shook my head, assembling the chili tortillas mom had prepped for me and sitting down. No, this is nice, this is okay. We’ve got a warm home, enough good food, and new clothes when we need them. We’re not hurting for money, and getting by modestly. This was nice enough.

After cleaning my dishes and putting the food away, I went back to my room to my desk to deal with the remedial homework my math teacher had given me. I clicked the radio setting on my alarm and listened to music while I worked through the numbers. The song playing on the station made me smile; it was a pop classic Emily and I liked to make fun of, due to it sounding exactly like every other song out there but with the lyrics being horrifically bad. I sung to it softly, wondering what she was up to.

Just as the thought crossed my mind, the phone rang. My heart gave a start from the sudden noise. “Hello?” I answered.

“Hey! It’sa me!”

I laughed. “Hey Emily. I was just thinking about what you’d be up to.”

“Making pizza rolls. Well, waiting for pizza rolls. So I just heard our song on the radio and I thought hey, Helen better be hearing this too ‘cause I can’t just enjoy the hilarity of it again all by myself.”

I laughed again. “I was, actually. Trying to plow through this stupid extra math work Mrs. Marrow gave me.

“Ugh, Bloody Marrow, she needs to retire.”

“For sure.”

“Anyway, so I actually wanted to tell you something that happened to me today!” she began, excited. “Erin asked me out in the most sweetest adorable way ever, she had given me her phone number last week ‘cause we had a science project together and had to coordinate outside of class and whatever, and today she sent me a text wanting to know if I like ice cream and would want to go get some at this new shop opening up at the mall this week!!”

I sat forward in amazement. “Emily! That’s awesome! You’ve had a crush on her for like, forever, I’m so happy for you!”

“I knoooooooow,” I heard her squee on the other end, and the sound of rustling as she was probably rolling back and forth on her bed happily. “She’s so prettyyyyy and I’m so gaaaaaaaaaaay.” I laughed.

“Well, I really hope it works out for you. It’d be really cool to see you two together.”

“Yeah, I’m a little scared though. I mean, this clearly sounds like a date, but I have no idea if she’s like, INTO me, or just ya know, looking for a friend or whatever.”

“Dude. She’s totally into you. How could she not be?”

“Buuuuuut-”

“For reals though. I’ve seen the way she acts when you come around. Plus you’re not exactly hiding your rainbows. She’s totes into you.”

“Uuuuuggghhhhh I just don’t knowwwwww.” I heard her shift. “Have you ever had a massive crush on anyone? Or have a crush on anyone currently?” she added with a hint of probing in her voice.

“I did once,” I grimaced. “That was a few years ago. You remember James?”

She made a noise of surprise. “Ugh that jock-head?”

“Yeah. He went to my middle school before we had moved here.”

“Dang, small world.”

“Yeah. Well, I used to think he was cute back then, and he kind of was. But I never really knew him. When I first moved here and started high school, I found out he went to this school too, so I tried to go talk to him since he was the only person I knew, and he essentially said ‘Ew, no, go away.’ Or something like that.”

“Ugh, boys are so rotten. You should switch sides, girls are way nicer.”

I gave a small laugh. “I wish. I get why you like girls, but I just kinda...don’t like anyone.”

“Dude, confession time to lighten the mood? I once had a crush on you.”

“I know,” I laughed. “You gave me chocolates and your lunch like, everyday. I felt bad for not realizing sooner after I ate all of your food.”

She laughed too. “S’algood, s’algood, I think I may have been mixing feelings a bit, you just seemed like someone I HAD to get to know.”

“I’m really glad you did. I didn’t have any friends at that time.”

“And you’re like, the most open-minded person ever. A lot of girls would get really defensive. Which sucks, but is also pretty hilarious too.”

“Well, I’m flattered you thought I was gay,” I teased. “And sorry that I wasn’t.”

“Yeah, you could be bi though, and I just wasn’t your type. Or maybe even ace.”

“I dunno, I kinda just...don’t care? I don’t really care what category I’d fit in, I just want to be treated like me.”

“Saaaaaame, girl, same.”

We chatted for a few more hours before it started getting really late. The phone call distraction extended my homework by the same amount of time, but it made it easier to get through, and at least it was done. As the last tangent conversation ended we said our see-you-tomorrows and hung up.

I flopped back against the musty pillows. I should really wash those. Our earlier conversation went through my mind, and I turned over on my side, hugging a large stuffed husky my mom got me when I was ten. It’s not like I didn’t want to like people, or that I didn’t want to date anyone. No one ever felt like they were actually interested in ME, not even Emily. At least Emily was aware of it; that’s the reason we became friends. But...I didn’t want to risk the possibility of actually really liking someone, and they just turn out to be like James had been; a stuck up jerk who didn’t even want to be nice. Or like some of the guys that were too thick to understand that Emily likes girls and certainly not them.

Being alone though...that’s what sucks the most. And for me, being around people who make me feel alone is the worst feeling of all.

I sat at the computer lab in the community center, looking at job listings, looking for any that hire seventeen year olds. It was still a few months away but It wouldn’t hurt to try to get a head start. I could use the shortened time to convince them to at least consider me; there was a public bus route that made a stop just down the road from where the school bus drops, at roughly the same time. I could take my seminar hour at the end of the day and check myself out of school, work for a couple of hours, and then commute back here. And mom wouldn’t need to know about it, AND I’d be able to help out with expenses. It’s a win-win scenario, it wouldn’t even cut into homework time.

I leaned back and stretched, and noticed that it was unusually quiet, and dark, in the building. I looked around; everyone had left save for the front desk lady, who was quietly reading her book. The auto lights had already gone out.

I checked the time on the computer. It said 8:05.

Oh crap.

Logging out as quickly as I could I bolted out the doors; the sun was already in setting position. “Oh crap oh crap.” Mom is going to be furious, this was her night off, I should have been home an hour ago…!

I ran towards the woods, debating whether to take the chance of it being dark before I made it through or getting into even more trouble with mom. To be honest, mom is probably scarier. The implications of it being after dark by the time I made it home was enough of a risk. I dove right into the treeline.

There was a different eeriness to the atmosphere here today, maybe it was because I was in a hurry, and maybe because it was minutes from full darkness. Something sent prickles across my skin, like I was being watched, like something was following me. I moved quicker, faster, my breath starting to become labored. A chilling mist was filling the forest; the sun had set. A strange lurch in the pit of my stomach pulled me in a direction that I was sure was the path home. Surely I was close now…?

I stopped, unable to believe my eyes as the treeline gave way to a clearing, my heart sinking as I realized it wasn’t because I was leaving the forest...and rising again from the sheer awe that was before me.

Towering far above me and covering the entire expanse of the open treeline I stepped out from, was an impressively large, black stone castle.

“It’s real…” I whispered. “No way…” How on earth did I end up here? I know that path by heart, I shouldn’t have veered off for a moment…!

Curiosity governed my senses. I walked through the white rose bushes that lined the outer wall and towards the brick; it wasn’t just a flat dark stone, it was carved with intricate details and patterns and symbols. With a start I recognized a lot of them; sanskrit, rune, greek, hebrew, korean. None were written in a manner I could read or understand, but something told me it was all the same language, whatever it was. Running my fingers across them felt almost electric, as if they held magic or something dumb like that.

I walked along the wall, carefully avoiding the rose buses that lined the way, coming up to a wrought iron gate. It twisted into intricate vine-like patterns with an almost glossy new sheen, as if it had just been made. A similar theme was applied to the rest of the castle beyond the wall, like a gothic style mansion with darkened rooftops. It was gorgeous and glossy and new and…

Wait, new?

I looked closer at the walls, and tried my best to look closer at the inner castle itself. Everything looked pristine and kept, fresh painted with muted and yet vibrant colors, even the stone and iron showed no discernable age. As if it had been freshly built. If this was the legendary castle in the woods, it would have to be SUPER ancient, because that myth has been around since our parents’ parents were little. It would be worn, the stones cracking and nature attempting to take over, or at the very least look uninhabited.

This looked very inhabited.

A chill fell over my body and dread followed suit. I shouldn’t be here. I don’t know what kind of people would live here, but I got the feeling they’d be the kind that wouldn’t care about shooting some random teenager looking like they’re about to trespass. I backed away quickly, feeling the hairs on the back of my neck rise as it felt like I was being closely watched again.

“Ouch!” Pain stung across my forearm as I stumbled into a rose bush, dragging a very thin bead of blood in a line down the scratch. “Ah, crap…” Now mom won’t just be mad. She’ll be paranoid.

A light snap! sounded from my left and I spun towards it, fear filling my pulsing chest. A million thoughts ran through my head, my breath started to catch. Very slowly, carefully this time, I started backing away. I let out a sigh of relief as a squirrel ran out from a bush, but the tension remained. It was time to leave.

But then I heard another crack, and this wasn’t a squirrel.

A pair of eyes shone in the dark, and a large, lithe figure began to step out from the shadows; that was all I needed to turn around and nope the heck out of there.

I had barely taken ten steps before I felt a rush of wind, and then suddenly I was jerked backwards into something solid by my arms. “NO-!” A scream had just barely begun from my mouth when pain erupted my from shoulder. Numbness overtook me and then everything was black.

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[ionica01]

A Cup of Magic 5

Finally, my laptop is back, and TodoMomo week is upon us! This should have been out yesterday for Day 2: AU... I’m sorry. Anyway, without further ado, here we go (will later update the other chapters and provide links):

The little corner where the staff members deposit their music is an old room in the back of the shop, where the light bulbs take one whole minute before flickering to life. Despite the coat of dust that keeps the curtain’s place- Momo makes a mental note of cleaning this room soon- the place is nothing if not welcoming. It has the wistful air of an old record shop, with the dozens of vinyl discs, tapes and CDs lining up the walls. Many of them have been bought by Momo over the years, especially the classical music ones. The newer pop, upbeat songs are Ochako’s contribution, whereas the rock corner is all Mina’s doing.

But today, Momo is searching for the jazz collection that was courtesy of her best friend, Kyouka. She doesn’t know exactly why, but she feels like listening to the trumpets and piano that the cafe seems to lack. Maybe it’s because the days are getting ever shorter and the long nights reek of jazz, or maybe it’s because November feels so empty between Halloween and Christmas that Momo associates it with the lonely tunes of Someday, my prince will come.

She runs a finger over the spine of the music collection, scanning for the rusty old cover of the vinyl disc. It’s a precious gift she received from Kyouka on her sixteenth birthday, and it was probably what allowed her to finally understand her friend, whose life was so deeply woven together with music that Momo couldn’t tell whether she made music or music made her.

She finally finds the disk she was looking for and digs it from under the Bill Evans pile of vinyls. Kyouka always argued that Bill Evans was the king of jazz- and yet Momo always found Art Blakey’s Moanin’ much closer to a musical masterpiece. As soon as the old man’s face on the cover comes to light, Momo feels her lips peel into a smile and she rushes out of the room to put the disk on and allow the cafe to bask into the tunes of the piano, which quietly dictates the whole 10 minutes of Moanin’.

It doesn’t take longer than two minutes for the sax to reverberate in the coffee shop, and Momo proudly returns behind the counter. Today is quiet, but the drums make up for it, and so does Shouto when he taps on the counter. His face is painted in curiosity and intrigue as he goes back to ordering his usual Green Tea.

“Music change?” he questions. Momo can’t read displeasure in his voice, but she can’t make out delight either.

“Yes.” He’s still eyeing her curiously, so Momo feels like she has to explain her choice, “The weather has gotten really gloomy, so I figured some upbeat music ought to put us in a better mood. The blues were just... ”

“Blue?” he nods, but his small smile at his own pun fades away as he focuses on taking in the rhythm of the song, matching his heartbeats with the trumpets and welcoming the pulse of the jazz.

Or at least that’s how Momo pictures it, because he starts drumming his fingers against the counter. She says nothing about it though, because not even Shouto seems to notice. She feels content with the knowing smile and watching his focused state.

He takes his drink and follows the route engraved in his memory to his table in a daze. Even as he sits down, he doesn’t pull out his books and research as per usual, instead closing his eyes and focusing on the lively saxophone.

Momo brings him a Creamy Adventure on the house- instructions from Satou, who fawned over Shouto all evening long after they closed yesterday. Ochako has also taken a liking to him, and an even more obvious liking to peeking at Momo’s interactions with him, but that, Momo pretends she hasn’t noticed.

When the plate clinks against the table, Shouto shuts his eyes even tighter, causing the skin around his eyes to wrinkle. Momo says nothing, instead quietly sliding into the seat in front of him and closing her eyes as well, permitting her heartbeat to sync with the beats of the drum.

“It’s like a dialogue,” Shouto says. It’s the piano’s turn to come to the front again, with the soft drums in the back, to pour out a symphony of energy.

“You think so?” Momo’s eyes are still closed, allowing her brain to focus solely on the music. “The piano is always there, quietly supporting the trumpets. It’s the mastermind behind everything- not flashy, but decisive.” She imagines the pianist pouring his all into the song and her fingers move before she can control them, hitting all the right keys on an invisible piano. This was the first song she learnt all on her own, without her piano instructor knowing that she was practicing it as soon as he set foot outside her estate.

Momo now hums along with the low piano, in a descendo that bursts with energy as the first notes of the song hit again, all of a sudden, to announce the last part of Moanin’. When the well-known trademark notes echo, she opens her eyes to find Shouto staring at her. She blinks quickly and feels blood rush to her cheeks, suddenly aware that she was singing along.

“You have a beautiful voice,” he says over the the ever louder piano performance, and Momo feels her cheeks burn an even darker shade of red. The way he purrs the word beautiful gives her goosebumps.

“Thank you,” she murmurs.

Shouto is once again oblivious to her reaction as his eyes fall on the Creamy Adventure and his face lights up. “It’s on the menu now?”

“Yes,” Momo says and almost chuckles at the strangled excitement in his voice. “Want to take a look?”

He nods and follows her to the counter, which isn’t buzzing with people as per usual. The end of term must be saying its word, because students only come to grab a drink and hurry back to their dorms or library in a frenzie.

Shouto’s eyes sparkle when they fall upon the displayed desserts and he easily recognizes the mousse. His body language betrays disbelief and excitement, mixed together in an amusing blend.

“I’ll tell you what reception it gets,” Momo smiles.

He nods, but before he can answer, the wind chimes announce a new customer and they both turn their attention towards the woman who strides to the counter, her boots hitting the floorboards in in perfect sync with the drum- when had the song changed?

“Biggest Cappuccino you have. Caramel on top, please,” Kyouka orders, unceremoniously dumping her purse on the counter and fumbling for her money. “Is that jazz?” Her head suddenly shots up and Momo can swear her ears grow bigger to capture all the fluctuations of the bass. “Dat Dere,” she immediately says and smirks proudly. “That’s my disc!”

“Hello to you too,” Momo smiles and fills up her order. Ochako is cleaning a table in the cafe, and Sato has secluded himself in the kitchen again, so Momo fixes Kyouka’s drink herself. “Do you want Rice or Almond Milk? We've got both in stock.”

“Give me Rice,” Kyouka says after a moment of thinking and more digging in her purse. Momo sees partitures and guitar feathers jumbling in the handbag and bites her lower lip to keep herself from scolding her unorganised friend. “Thanks,” Kyouka adds without lifting her head.

“No problem,” Momo replies as she searches for the Caramel Syrup. She’s known Kyouka ever since they were teenagers, and the girl was as lactose intolerant as when they first met, which was the inspiration Momo needed to introduce non-lactose based drinks.

“Here you go,” she says and hands Kyouka a cappuccino with a cinnamon musical note on top. She feels her own smile grow along with Kyouka’s as the musician breathes in the smell of the caramel and her jack-cord earrings clink against her headphones.

She empties half of the drink in a gulp, and it’s only after she demands a second beverage that she notices, “Hey, the shop’s pretty empty, right?” Momo eyes her friend suspiciously and follows the glance Kyouka steals at the far off corner of the cafe. “Think I could-”

“Go right ahead.”

Kyouka smiles brightly and leaps towards the small stage where the musical instruments are covered by a white sheet. A Cup of Magic is always prepared for concerts, and it’s equipped with a keyboard and drums, along a rusty electric guitar and a saxophone. The stage hasn’t been used in quite a while- but Kyouka will sometimes practice there, and when the shop is free, Momo would accompany her at the keyboard.

“You’re the best, Yaomomo!” her friend calls as she reveals her much beloved instruments and sets her guitar up in the amplifier, her face bearing the same look as Shouto’s when he saw the Creamy Adventure.

Speaking of Shouto, he’s still at the counter, and he looks mildly amused at the musician. “She’s my friend,” Momo explains before her brain can decide why that’s necessary.

“Is she responsible for the jazz?”

“Yes. She’s also the reason why I know much more music trivia than I should.” Shouto’s lips raise in a crooked smile, making Momo’s knees weaken. Unfair, she thinks to herself. “What’s your favourite genre of music?” she quickly asks, trying to take the upper hand on the situation.

“If I had to choose, classical music,” Shouto shrugs. “It just says so much without any words.”

“Just like you,” Momo says before she can stop herself.

He meets her terrified gaze calmly and locks her eyes in his. She has no idea what she was thinking, but he does say a lot without talking right now- he says that he isn’t angry, and that her comment triggers a reaction in him. But just like classical music, it doesn’t give a clear answer- just a hint of something that unexplainably mesmerizes Momo.

“Am I really?” he eventually asks, nothing but curious. His brow furrows when Momo’s eyes break away from his, as if he lost a precious clue, and she starts giggling. “What?” he asks again, and Momo is too much of a laughing mess to give him any serious answer.

She wonders if in the grand scheme of things that fate has prepared for her, Shouto happens to be the one to rewrite all the mishaps of daily life.

***

Momo taps the rhythm of Kyouka’s guitar with her pen against the counter and frowns at the equation. She’s stuck- and it bugs her. She bites on the inside of her lip in annoyance.

“Dammit,” she hears Kyouka curse, seemingly just as annoyed as Momo, although the reason is different. She then yells, “Yaomomo, do you have the key to the backroom?”

“What do you need?”

“A CD of Queen’s performance. I keep messing up the beat of Another one Bites the Dust and my teacher is gonna make fun of me, I just know it. He’ll be all ‘I knew you chose this song just to show off’”, she says in a high pitched voice- a full-marks impersonation of Present Mic, if Momo had to judge.

Even so, the barista rolls her eyes at how dramatic her friend can be and throws her the keys only after she hears Kyouka groan. “Get whatever you need, but just don’t wreck havoc in there.”

“Sheesh, trust me more,” Kyouka winks and runs in the back.

Momo pretends not to feel the small smile she’s sporting. Kyouka never seemed truly content with anything- and she was her own harshest critic. She returns to her own problem, and takes a note out of Kyouka’s book to scold herself- she knows she didn’t make a calculus mistake, so where was she wrong?

Someone clears their throat next to her and she jolts, already feeling her ears burn- she shouldn’t be studying at work. She’s already bowing in apology when she hears Shouto excuse himself, “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“No no, it’s okay. I’m at the customer’s disposition, after all.” She offers him a pleasant smile, still too embarrassed to meet his eyes.

He doesn’t speak immediately, and when Momo dares meet his look, she feels his observing gaze pierce through her skin like hot iron, marking every inch of her body, especially her eyes. She doesn’t understand whether he’s analysing her or criticising her, because his eyes look both harsh and soft at the same time- it should be impossible, but maybe it has to do with the fact that they’re different colours. Or maybe it’s just another result of her overthinking things.

“I just wanted a refill,” he eventually shrugs and holds out his cup.

She obliges, but stops him when he pulls out his wallet. “Refills are free.”

His eyes widen, and then his face settles into a small, self indulgent smile. “I’ve been coming here since the start of the year and I didn’t know that?”

“Well, it is written on our site, so I assumed people just knew. But perhaps we should put up a sign?”

He shakes his head and snorts- maybe she should clear her ears- “It’s really like you, so I shouldn’t be so surprised.” Momo wonders when he began labeling things “like her”- it’s not that it bothers her, but it implies that he has been observing her behaviour and knows her well enough to predict the pattern of her decisions. Then again, Momo questions why that would come as a surprise to her- classical music isn’t just wordless, but also very unpredictable, as it can drop from presto to lento in a matter of seconds.

Momo hands him the hot tea, and their fingers brush for a split second. She shivers from both the electrifying contact and how cold he is. It feels like she just touched a popsicle- does he have bad peripheral circulation? Is that why he drinks Green Tea daily?

It’s not really her place to ask, but she’s intrigued enough to not obey her set of self-imposed rules. He beats her to it again, though, by asking, “Do you like scones?”

Momo blinks in surprise, and her eyes follow his towards the bag of half-finished scones that sit next to her open notebook. She feels the blood rush to her face again- eating patisserie products when she’s stressed is one of her guilty pleasures, one that she’d very much like to give up on. She gulps and nods, feeling like a child that was caught eating chocolate out of the cookie jar before lunch.

“What flavour?” he asks again, and Momo wonders whether he’s genuinely oblivious or a very good and malicious actor.

“Blueberries. They’re a bit less sweet than the strawberry ones, and I’d rather keep the damage to a minimum,” she mumbles the last part, more for herself than to supply some vital information. “Do you want some?”

“No thanks. I prefer Japanese Sweets,” he says matter-of-factly, causing Momo’s shoulders to slump. Of course, he radiates the aura of a person who has well-balanced meals and leads a healthy lifestyle. She does her best to do the same, but studying for exams always gets the better of her, and her metabolism is so hard-working that she feels hungry most of the time.

“Thanks, Yaomomo,” Kyouka’s voice pulls her out of her trance as she drops the keys on the counter and flashes the Queen album before her eyes. “Time to rock’n’roll.” Kyouka quickly notices the third person standing at the counter and narrows his eyes at Shouto. “A friend?”

Momo opens her mouth to answer, but closes it just as fast, suddenly aware that her relationship with Shouto is blurry. They certainly aren’t strangers anymore, and they’re even on a first name basis, but that doesn’t mean they are friends. Acquaintances sounds wrong too, because an acquaintance doesn’t send your heart racing with a smile and they don’t compliment you in a state of utter obliviousness. Besides, he is part of the family she built here.

Momo steals a sideway glance at him, trying to find an answer in his mismatched eyes. They’re an enigma as he ponders the same question, and they don’t falter when he speaks, either. “I’m Momo’s customer. Nice to meet you.”

That is the most accurate answer, followed by the perfectly polite bow, but the barista can’t help but feel that’s too official. He's more than just a customer- she has taken a non-professional interest in him and his behaviour. He is her… mystery? Puzzle? All too abstract, Momo dismisses them one by one.

The gears in her head turn quickly, as if they’ve just been oiled, until it eventually clicks: he’s her project. She wants to show him what magic is and make him welcome it, while getting to know him better along the way. Yes, he is her project.

“Aha,” Kyouka muses, unconvinced by Momo’s spacing out and Shouto’s polite demeanor. “Well, Mr. Customer, I hope you like the classics,” she grins and flashes the CD case before their eyes again before pressing play.

The steady beats of the song ring in Momo’s ears as Kyouka sets the volume higher, bobbing her head along the beats. She falls in a daze of her own, tracing the notes on an invisible cord as the words start kicking in and she mouths them.

“What song is this?” Shouto whispers, respecting Kyouka’s bubble of privacy and addressing Momo instead.

“You mean you don’t know?” Her eyes must be so wide that he interprets it as disapproval, because he sounds uncertain when he murmurs a negative answer.

“Well then, you’re about to find out,” Momo says and points towards her friend, who has stopped the CD and connected her guitar to the amplifier again.

***

Thursday brings in a gust of crisp wind and a mysterious brown paper bag along with Shouto. His hair is ravished by the merciless wind, white and red locks intertwining in a strange patchwork, but he ignores his appearance and proudly holds the bag up in front of Momo.

One of her eyebrows arches upwards as she inspects the package. “I’m sorry, they have probably gotten cold, but I promise they’re still delicious,” Shouto says as an excuse, confirming that the bag is indeed for her. She meets his eyes, which are patiently waiting for her reaction, and takes the bag from him.

She doesn’t even need to look inside, because as soon as she opens it, the smell of crispy dough and forest fruit filling feels her lungs and she stares at what has to be at least 300 grams of scones. “You didn’t-”

“But I wanted to,” he stops her before she can sputter any refusals. “You did so much for me- this is nothing in comparison.” Momo feels both flattered and guilty- guilty that she thought he could be anything but genuine when he asked her about it two days ago; flattered that he cares. “My sister says these are the best in town, so I hope you’ll like them.”

“Thank you,” Momo says and brings the bag to her chest, careful not to crush the scones but too thankful to let it down. The other reason, her subconscious muses, is that if her hands didn’t hold something, she’d wrap them around Shouto and part his hair back in his usual style. She doesn’t let that thought stir her mind more than necessary and instead says, “I hope you didn’t go out of your way.”

“No, it’s pretty close to where I live. I walk by it every day, but this was the first time I actually stepped in.”

Momo’s smile widens even more, and she hopes her voice doesn’t give away just how delighted she is. Her presence made him experience something new, and that alone is a magic spell. “Will you have the usual?”

Shouto’s face relaxes in a coy smile, and Momo wanders if it’s contagious. “Yes. And a piece of High-class Vanilla.”

***

It’s probably the result of being stalked while changing for the PE classroom, having caught indecent glances where her dress didn’t cover her tights and years of experience with perverts, but Momo can feel when someone is watching her. She can also feel whether that person’s lust has gotten the better of them, but that isn’t the case now. All she feels right this instant is the pressure of someone’s eyes watching her every move, lacking any ulterior motive than to just know what she is up to- the way her classmates watch her during the exams to see whether she’s already done or not- and ask for her help.

What’s weirding her out, though, is that her observer is none other than Shouto. She scolds herself for as much as daring to picture it, but if there was poison in the scones, she would have been able to tell- but there isn’t, and they are so good that she has almost finished them. His sister must have really keen taste buds, Momo reasons.

But if the scones are safe, why is he watching her like a hawk? Is he just spacing out?

“He’s been staring at you for a while now,” Ochako says when she catches Momo’s umpteenth sideway glance at him. “He probably has something to tell you.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, maybe he has a crush on you.” Momo blushes violently at the suggestion and shuts it down immediately.

“Don’t be so categoric! I used to stare at Deku without realising it a lot before we started dating.” Something in Ochako’s cooing voice bothers Momo more than she’d like to admit- just because she doesn’t have any romantic experience doesn’t mean she’s so clueless.

“You’ve had your fair share of confessions, right? You should know when a man likes you,” Ochako grins.

“He doesn’t like me that way. He’s probably just zoning out.” Even she finds that hard to believe.

“Sure~” Ochako teases as she spins around Creati and grabs the shaker. “And I am the Queen of England.”

“Well, your Majesty, I regret to inform you that you are mistaken.” Ochako frowns and Momo feels a bit guilty when she notices Ochako’s grin whither, but still adds, “He’s very direct- he’d tell me if that weighed on his mind.”

“You sound very confident,” Ochako sighs. “I guess I’ll trust you to know what’s best for you, Creati.”

Momo feels arrow ripping through her chest when Ochako calls her by her work name, but decides to ignore it. Jumping to conclusions about others’ feelings was like invading their personal space. And besides, Momo has yet to figure why his words stir something she didn’t even know existed in her stomach.

***

It’s already late and the shop is mostly empty when Momo reluctantly approaches Shouto’s corner. She feels guilty for avoiding him most of the day, but she needed the alone time to sort some things out for herself.

“The scones were absolutely delicious,” she tells him as she wipes the table next to his.

Momo refuses to let his smile charm her again, and pretends that her heart isn’t drumming in her chest with a rhythm more intense than that of Another One Bites the Dust.

“I’m glad,” he says. “By the way, I listened to it.” Momo stops with the plates in her right hand and tilts her head questioningly. “The song your friend was playing yesterday.”

“Oh.”

“And then I ended up listening to the whole album.”

Momo lets the dishes rest on the table next to his and eats back a chuckle. “Kyouka would be so proud. Mina too- she’s the donor of the rock collection.”

Shouto gives her an accusing look when she begins giggling. “It was very good,” he says in his defense.

“Yes I know. The Game is a good album. Even so, my favourite one is A Night at the Opera.”

“Bohemian Rhapsody?”

“You’re my best friend,” Momo counters as she sits in what became her usual spot, and her mind immediately erases the reasons as to why she has been avoiding him today. “But Bohemian Rhapsody is considered their best piece by many.”

“I can see why. It’s… beautiful.”

It’s the second time Momo hears him utter the word, and he does so with both fascination and fear, as if the word is too gentle to escape his lips and too grand to meet the world.

She starts humming the song, but doesn’t dare sing the lyrics. One of the reasons why she skips this song when YouTube suggests it to her is that it’s too strong, and it requires a certain mood from the listener.

Shouto watches her quietly, closing his eyes as he focuses on her voice over the others in the cafe. Momo almost jolts when he starts humming alongside her, his deep voice much more suited for the sad beginning than hers.

They keep the duet up, completing each other in the stereo parts, and Shouto’s lips peel into a smile when her notes entwine with his to recreate the Rhapsody. She tries not to let her beam alter the notes, but her voice catches in her throat when they reach the chorus with its higher notes and she coughs. “Sorry, this all I can do.”

“And we were getting to the good part,” Shouto pouts- no, her eyes are not betraying her.

Momo chuckles. “For a man that just yesterday became acquainted with Queen, you sure became a big fan.”

“You are a very strong influence,” he shrugs, as if proving that no blame weighs on his shoulders.

Momo quickly shifts the blame further, “Please talk out my musical taste with Kyouka and Mina. If it were after me, I’d probably be listening just to classical music, too.” Shouto raises a curious eyebrow. “I was brought up with classical music, you see. I guess I only started listening to anything else when I met Kyouka.”

He nods, and seems to store the information away. Momo wonders if he has some sort of folder dedicated to her. “What about you?” she asks, suddenly aware of how empty her Shouto folder is.

“Mom liked classical music, and we listened to it a lot. She even went as far as to pay piano and violin lessons for my older siblings.” Momo is tempted to ask if he can play those instruments, too, but the way he phrased it tells her he was the only exception, and she bites back her question, not meaning to pry. There’s a faraway look in his eyes, the one she saw on the day they meet, the one that pierces through the exterior appearance to see the truth.

She pulls him back to their discussion with a gentle comment. “So you have several siblings? That must be nice.”

Her words do their job, because he looks at her again, and not through her. “It is, but the age gap between us is quite big, and we didn’t spend that much time together when I was little. I feel closer to them now than I did back then, I guess.” There is a pause as he looks at her, assessing something. “Are you an only child?”

“Yes.” He nods as if he predicted the answer. “It can get pretty lonely sometimes,” Momo forces a laugh and pushes the memories of the huge, empty house away from her mind.

“I know what you mean,” Shouto surprises her with the faraway look yet again, but this time, he pulls Momo with him in his little world, because they share the same lonely eyes. It breaks Momo’s heart to see his black eye so dark that it swallows every happy memory, and his blue one cold as ice, not letting any feelings reach him.

And then Momo understands. She finally understands why Shouto comes here every day, and she bites her lip to keep from gasping, because he is the same as her. He comes because the emptiness of his house screams at him, and because the silence in the dark room that awaits him when he unlocks his front door is too loud.

And so they both come where there’s light, and where there’s magic- only that she comes there because she believes in it. He comes there because he wants to believe.

“But then I think I found a family here, and I have more siblings than I ever could have asked for,” Momo says in a soothing voice, throwing Ochako a soft, fond look. A Cup of Magic has always felt more like home than her actual house.

“Do you believe in a home away from home?” His eyes melt into a fonder look, pools of ink that glimmer with the desire to rewrite his story, or to write a better ending.

It doesn’t take her by surprise, and she feels it again- his need to belong, to find a family. “I do,” she says, because it’s true. “I think the most precious family is one where you’re kept together not by bonds of blood, but by feelings so strong they can weaken without breaking, only to then reinforce themselves.”

“You sound like a friend of mine,” Shuto says with a small smile. Momo looks at him puzzled, but he doesn’t elaborate on it. Instead, he looks at her with a simper. “Thank you.”

She blinks, faltering under the sudden response. “What for?”

“For being honest with me.” And then he says something that would have left Momo gaping, if not for her better manners, “And for believing in magic.”

[thegladelf]

TQG Snippet

As I mentioned earlier, I’m looking for a small group of people (5-10) who would be willing to be an audience for my novel. I’ll be posting chapters on a password protected blog and hopefully knowing I have a reader or two will help me stay motivated to finish this draft (yes, this is the project that makes me want to walk in to traffic). 

I wanted to post a little bit of a snippet for y’all so you can decide if it’s something you’re interested in. If you are intrigued, you can message me (or reply to this post, likes won’t count) and I’ll respond with the blog and password. 

Please keep in mind, that I’m looking for a small, private group and the better I know you, the more comfortable I will be with sharing my work. That’s not to discourage anyone, it’s just to let you know that there won’t be space for everyone who is interested. I’ll wait until the weekend to decide who to pass passwords out to. Advance thanks to anyone who does express interest.

All that I need from anyone who is chosen is that they like each chapter once they’ve read it. That’s it. That’s all. You will be more than welcome to do more if you like. My askbox and messages will be open (extra points if you spam me with requests for the next chapter when I’m slacking--not sure what the points could be used for, but I’ll give them to you.) I’m hoping to get on a one chapter a week update schedule and chapters are typically pretty short...between 2-5k.

Disclaimer: This is the first of what I hope will be a series, so it doesn’t exactly...end. I mean it ends, but the main plot is unresolved and I’m not working on book two until book one sells. I know that drives some people up the wall, so you have been warned. 

PLEASE DO NOT REBLOG THIS POST.

Thank you.

(The following is the intellectual property of Margaret S., aka, thegladelf)

CHAPTER ONE

“I don’t want to cause any trouble, Kaitlyn.”

“But you do want to see the queen,” my sister whispers, winding a lock of hair around her finger in an innocent and very un-Kaitlyn-like manner. Everything about her right now feels off, from the neat, tidy braids in her curled, blonde hair to the expensive court dress she wears. Kaitlyn leans in closer, lowering her voice even more—the thick curtain that serves as our door falls short of its duties and our other sisters’ conversations flutter blithely through.

“You don’t know that.” Unlike my sister, I am not done up for an audience with the queen. Just as well, my drab, brown braid is a half-unraveled mess from the number of times I’ve twisted it around my fingers.

“You have to trust me on this, little sister. This will be her last appearance before the court.”

“But…”

Kaitlyn rests a hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently. “If you keep to the back, Father won’t even notice you.”

“Father always notices when I do something I shouldn’t,” I mutter. It takes conscious effort to unclench my hands, wipe them down my skirt, breathe. “I don’t want to disappoint him.”

Kaitlyn sighs. “I know little sister.” Our mattress rustles as she stands. One hand darts into her pocket, pulling out a sheet of paper. She shoves it under my nose. “Here. If you change your mind, I’ve made a map of sorts. I know you’re comfortable with this place yet.”

I glare up at her. “This wasn’t worth a whole sheet of paper.”

“Apparently this wasn’t either according to our sister. I stole it from her burn pile.”  Snatching the paper from my hand, she turns it over to reveals one Elaine’s discarded love letters. “This is probably your only chance to see the queen, Gena. The rumors aren’t exaggerated this time, why else would Queen Cressida looking for a Royal Apprentice?”

“Father said to stay here.”

Kaitlyn folds the map in half with quick, crisp motions and then in quarters and eighths. She doesn’t ask, just tucks it in the pocket of my skirt. Her eyes drill into me for a long minute and then she shrugs, fluffing her curls like one of our other sisters might. She hardly looks like the barefoot girl who dragged me over every inch of our father’s estate.

“Kaitlyn!”

“I’m coming.” She ducks through the curtain, long skirts swishing.

Rosalind, the oldest of my sisters, pops her head through for just moment. She wears her fine dress with more ease than Kaitlyn, her hair a similar mass of coils and braids.

She smiles. “We’ll be back soon. I’m sure you’ll enjoy the quiet.”

I return her smile. She has a point.

My sisters’ chattering cuts off at the thud of the door and I fall back onto the bed I share with Kaitlyn, pressing the heels of my hands to my eyes. I take a deep breath. And then another.

And I reach for my book. A novel I’ve read a dozen times at least, but Father owns so few novels, that is the case with all of them. The mattress crackles as I settle, ropes creak. Candlelight flickers across the page as I try to focus, but my hand keeps slipping into my pocket. After the fifth time in as many minutes, I pull out the map. Paper shushes against my book as I unfold it. It’s simple, bare lines and scrawled instructions—Kaitlyn didn’t bother with her fancy formal handwriting here—one only reads “Count three doors and turn left here”. One set of lines breaks off just shy of the queen’s throne room, leading to a box labeled “library”.

Perhaps my sister hasn’t forgotten who I am after all.

Even as big as the palace is, I can probably manage. And what better time to go exploring King’s Keep than while everyone else waits on the queen. Combing my fingers through my hair, I twist it into a tidier braid and fasten it with one of Kaitlyn’s discarded hair ribbons.

A quick look out the door reveals an empty hallway. I blow out the candle, setting it on the table by the door as I slip out of the room. Dim light illuminates the hallway in the noble’s quarters, not the flickering light of a torch, but the steady glow of a mage-spelled light. It must have cost a fortune to hang magelights every twenty feet—I resist the urge to calculate a more exact number.

I resist the urge to calculate the expense of hanging magelights every twenty feet. Shelby manor only has one. The pale blue to soft white as I approach, flooding the corridor with counterfeit daylight. After four days at court, I know better than to look at the lights directly, but my first trip down this corridor white spots danced across my vision nearly the entire way.

The map folds neatly into my palm, its edges rough against my fingers when I open it to check my route after each turn. Solitude wraps around me. My footsteps are the only ones rustling across the rush-covered floor. Four days of constant company had me longing for home. Strange to miss the silence of my room now after I spent the last year longing for the chatter that filled it before my sisters were all at court. I’ll be back to it soon enough. A few months as court to prove Father has no reason to hide me away and he’ll send me home, where I can always expect my stepmother’s smile. And the giggles my brothers bestow on me for the smallest reasons. The smell of ink as I tally the household books. The peddler’s exasperated sigh after he’s been haggled down to a reasonable price. Shelby is expected, is it in my blood, it is the best place in the world. I would stay there forever if I had the choice.

As I pass from the noble’s quarters to the common areas, the scenery changes. As I draw nearer to the queen’s wing plain, white-washed plaster gains a coat of soft blue paint, which changes into carved wooden paneling. The work of an artist. Flowers unfurl from the wall. Animals poised to frolic right out of the wood. And the tapestries, stretched ceiling to the floor and continuing on for ten to fifteen feet at a time. Their stories beckon me, but the queen’s audience will only last so long and I want to be back in my room by the time everyone returns.

The further I travel, the less the emptiness comforts. It cloys. It crawls. Any moment now, someone will burst out, demand what business a simple, country girl has so close to the queen’s quarters. I reach the final turn with a sigh, the paper quivering in my hand. I check one last time, tracing my route back, trying to remember the turns I made to get here, to be sure.

My eyes linger on the other box.

I swallow.

What if my sister is right?

With a deep breath, I fold up the map and continue straight ahead.

...

I believe @swanscaptn requested a tag.

[delightfulnerdinfluencer-blog]

Misunderstanding Chapter 5 A Mystic Messenger fanfic

A week later…

“Why does Philosophy have to be so boring!” Yoosung cried. The heel of his hands pressed into his eyes. “I was barely able to stay awake!”

Yeoja laughed at her friend as they walked. She was not going to remind him that he was the one that stayed up the night before playing LOLOL with Saeyoung and Saeran. The reason he gave that he was up so long was, he got beat pretty hard by the twins in the game, repeatedly. Thinking that one more match and he would beat them. She had heard all about it on the drive to school that morning. How they must have hacked the system or something. That there was no way they could be that good. She was also pretty sure she would hear all about it when she got home.

“Oh, what are you going to do now?” Yoosung sprung out of his whining fast to ask the question. As if he remembered something.

  “Um, going home. You have that three-hour lab. So, I was just going to leave like I normally do.”

“So, um, there is this new café that opened up near the school. After my lab wanna go? I heard that they have really good sweets!” He looked more like a puppy waiting for his treat. This made Yeoja laugh again, her hand came to cover her mouth.

“Were you not the person the other day complaining that they had no money? Now you want to take your best friend’s girl out to a café?” This made Yoosung laugh as well.

“You’re my best friend too! Well, you’re more like my older sister.” A faint blush dusted his cheeks, “My mom sent me a little extra money to take ‘that someone special’ out… well since I still don’t have a girlfriend. You’re the next best thing!”

“I’m honored to be a surrogate ‘special someone’. Yeah, I’ll hang around school until you get out.” Yeoja wrapped her arms around one of Yoosung’s and nuzzled her cheek into his shoulder. “Who knows your special someone might be around the corner!”

As they rounded the corner to an empty hall Yoosung’s shoulders sunk. Yeoja nuzzled his shoulder again trying to make him feel a bit better.

“Sometimes I wonder how much of Saeyoung rubbed off on you.”

“Well… I would go into detail, but good little boys should hear about the birds and the bees from their parents.” Yeoja stood upright and act as much of a teacher as she could while holding back laughing at her beet red friend beside her.

They reached his next classroom and parted ways. He promised that he would text her as soon as he got out. Yeoja smiled before turning to walk outside.

It was warm. The sun was bright in the sky, even though it still hung low in the midday. Yeoja hummed as she made her way to the smoking pit on school grounds. Even though she had stopped smoking completely the day she found out she was pregnant. It was still the most peaceful place in school. She did not want to waste the warm day by being inside the library.

The trees had started to bud with new life. Birds singing the triumphant return of the warm weather to come. The was a light cool breeze but it felt amazing from the bitter cold that was there a few days prior. Nothing remained of the snow storm that had just happened. The snow had melted and in its wake, was left muddy patches on the ground. As if it was all just a dream. Yeoja pulled out her phone to send a text. From: Yeoja To: Saeyoung     Hey going to stay late. Yoosung and I are going to this new café down the road from the school after his last class. I will see you later than normal. With that she sent it. It was most likely Saeyoung was still sleeping. The beep of getting a text message told her otherwise. From Saeyoung To Yeoja     Oh, so you’re leaving me for someone even younger! Fine! T0T She could see the overdramatic flair this man was doing as she read the text. An arm over his eyes as he sunk to the ground. His voice loud as faked tears rolled down his face. As he reached the ground he would place his head down. With a fisted hand, he would beat the ground below at the indignity of his cruel fate. Wailing loudly as he cursed the cat gods above. From Yeoja To Saeyoung     Can I make it up to you by bringing you something from there? ^^;; The respond was quick. From Saeyoung To Yeoja         Yes ❤

She giggled as she put away her phone and walked.

The smoking pit was like a small park. It had benches along the wall of the adjacent building. Trash cans that doubled as ash trays in-between them. The small grassy area that in closed the bricked ground was squishy but the buds of flowers were starting to peek through the pine needles. There were two paths leading to the area and out to the two closest buildings. Thankfully no one was there. Knowing that if someone was there she would not have been able to stay. She loved this little area. It was far off from the campus route that unless you were a smoker, no one had a reason to come.

She had picked up smoking in her first year of college. Her dead-end job barely paid her enough to eat and live off of. It was not like her parents could send her money every month to help her out. They barely made enough to live their self, she could not have asked them to send her help. Yeoja was on her own when she moved and she knew it. Picking up the habit after she learned that it kept hunger away, and it worked. For the last few years before meeting the RFA she lived off instant noodles and cigarettes. She tried not to smoke around her new friends, feeling shame that she let them down. Zen was the first to find out. Even though he did not approve he promised he would help her. Like a good big brother would, in his words. When Saeyoung found out, she felt as if her relationship with him was about to end. It was her biggest secret she kept from him. Saeyoung hated that she smoked and she promised that she would quit. she was almost there when she found out. Giving her last unopen pack to Zen. Promising that she would never go back.

Yeoja found a spot in the sun and sat down. The rays warmed her after being stuck in a cold classroom for the last hour and a half. It took her a moment of enjoying the day before she dug out a textbook. Flipping through the pages to find where they were. A voice stopped her.

“You done or do I need to give you another minute?” This made Yeoja look up to who spoke. Knowing who it was before she saw the figure standing at the entrance of the pit. It was her advisor, Dr. Park. A tall, thin woman in her mid-fifties. Dr. Park wore a bright purple shirt and jeans with a light jacket. Her wild salt and pepper hair pulled back in a hair band to keep the untamed curls out of her face.

“No, actually I quit. I still like it here though.” This statement made her advisor’s eyes go wide with delight. The older woman cheered as Yeoja stood and walked to her. Pulling Yeoja in a big hug.

“I knew you could do it!” No one outside of her parents and the RFA knew she was pregnant. She knew the risk of miscarriage at her age. So, she had not planned to tell anyone until she was further along. “So, then, what may I ask are you doing right now? Do you have a minute? I have someone you have to meet.”

“I got a few hours until Yoosung gets out of his class.” Yeoja went back to get her things.

“Good, good.” Dr. Park nodded. “Come with me. Remember we were talking about who would be on your advisory committee? I know we have a few years to worry about your doctoral advisory committee, but I was talking about you to a friend of mine. She said that she would be interested in helping with your Master’s Thesis. I hope you don’t mind I did use your married name when telling her about you.”

“No, you’re good. It’s not but two weeks away now so I got to get used to it at some time. Besides, our friends already do.” Yeoja said adjusting her bookbag as they walked.

“Now, I will tell you a little about her. Her major was law but she also majored in psychology in her undergrad. She was a lawyer for a few years and a good one at that. She actually has daughters your age.” Dr. Park rambled on. Yeoja was just excited to start forming the idea of her master’s thesis. She had ideas passing through her head. Her steps were near skips as they walked to the social sciences hall. If she had access to a former lawyer, then she could cover some legal aspects that might come up in her project. “I have been meaning to ask, Yeoja. Was that Zen in your video project?”

Yeoja stopped a few feet ahead of Dr. Park and looked back at the woman. “Oh, you know Zen?” the question was met with a look as if Yeoja should have known the answer. “Yeah, that was Zen. He’s one of my best friends. Sorry I keep forgetting that he’s kinda well known.”

This got a laugh out of the older woman as she walked up to stand with Yeoja. It was easy to forget who some of her friends were. When they were together they weren’t a director of one of the largest companies in the country, an actor, an assistant, hackers, or gaming addict. They were all normal people inside the chat and when they met in person. They had their flaws and their strengths. Joking and sharing stories about what they were doing at the time. Yeoja kept most of her RFA life apart from her school life. None of her school friends knew about knew who she hung out with the outside of school, aside from Yoosung. On the other hand, everyone in the RFA knew everything about her school life. She trusted them more than anyone else in her life. They were just normal people who she loved. They were her family.

Yeoja pulled out her phone and started to flip through her pictures to find the most recent selfie of her and Zen together. He had helped her with the project since Saeran and Saeyoung were busy with work and she did not want to bother them. He was more than happy to help; writing out most of the script they used since she had no idea know to make the mock session last for over ten minutes. Even pulling most likely the best performances of his career for a school project.

“I’m a big fan of his!” This was a squeal of a fangirl and not a professor of psychology.

“I’ll tell him you were happy with his performance.” Yeoja beamed, then showed the selfie of herself and Zen to her teacher. The way her teacher went on about his acting, Yeoja was not going to bring up that she has been in his house. Or that the hoodie she was wearing was originally his.

Starting back on their trip to the hall, Yeoja had to tell Dr. Park how they met. Or what she had told people about why she went missing for two weeks. Lying that she needed a few days off for her “mental health” that lead to her having a family emergency. So, she had to leave for a bit to take care of her family. In this time, she had met Zen, Jumin, the Choi twins, Jaehee. Yoosung was the easiest to lie about since they attended the same school. As it turned out having a class together before they met. She had never noticed him. The others were harder to tell how they met. In time, she came up with a believable enough story. That through Yoosung she met the rest. The Choi’s are his best friend. While Zen and Jumin were close personal friends of his family. Since Jaehee worked for Jumin, she was a tag along. For some reason, this story worked. Then again how they really met might have sounded more of a lie than the story she told.

“I guess I can’t be surprised anymore with who you know. I mean if Mr. Han is personally funding your education then I guess it’s easy to think that you would know an actor or two.” Dr. Park stated as they walked up the granite stairs to the red brick building with white letters the name of the person who gave to most money to the school for the building.

Jumin somehow found out about her lack of money and school funding. Even though Saeyoung played innocent she was sure it was him. Unlike Yoosung who had a scholarship that paid more than enough to go to school, get his books, and live off of. Yeoja had to take massive student loans out. Jumin offered her a deal when she came back from her trip to get Saeran. Keep her grades up and he would pay off the loans she already had and pay for the rest of her schooling as long as she needed. Even paying her a little each month to live on, saying that was her payment for the work she did within the RFA.

Entering the building they were greeting by two boards up for college updates and another one for student news that students posted their self at the entrance. To the right side was the student lounge complete with vending machines, a couch, TV, and a couple of tables. To the left were the stairs and elevator. The halls were deserted. With the muffled sounds of the various lectors going on behind the closed doors. Everything from Psychology to History was housed in here.

The pair took the stairs. The bright blue and a gold that glittered in the sun of the school’s colors welcomed them. The click of heels and shuffle of sneakers echoed off the walls as they made the hike up the next two floors. They went in silence only letting their footsteps speak for them. Bright sunlight poured in through the windows, warming the stairwell. When they reached the floor, the two made a sharp turn into a back hallway where the professor’s offices were hidden. As they passed an open door a deep male voice rang out.

“Dr. Park got Yeoja for smoking again!” He teased. They stopped and Yeoja walked back to his door and looked inside. A large smile beamed from him. “Such a bad student you are, Yeoja. I mean really” sarcasm dripped from each word he spoke.

Yeoja grabbed her heart and acted as if she was wounded, “Oh, yes, I am truly the worst of them all.”

With a shared laugh, she waved at the teacher and started back with Dr. Park. The rest of the way was short. They stopped at a door with Dr. Park’s name on it. The older woman opened the door and let Yeoja enter first.

“I would like you to meet my friend, Chaeha Chon.” Yeoja stopped as the second older woman stood. 

“You’re the Prime Minister’s wife!” Yeoja gasped then quickly bowed to the woman. Her heart thundered in her chest. She was the one that said she would help? No way she could be this lucky. This had to be a crazy dream. No one was this lucky.

Chaeha was about Yeoja’s height at 5’4”. Short cropped black hair framed the older woman’s thin face. She looked as if she had just stepped off of a runway. Dressed in a white pantsuit with a black blouse underneath. Nothing out of place. There was no stray hair or piece of lint on this woman.

“Nice to see you again Mrs. Choi.” Chaeha smiled to the young woman extending a hand to her. Yeoja took a step in a jerking movement to take Chaeha’s hand.

“Oh? You two have met?” Dr. Park looked between the two, puzzled.

“Yes, briefly, when I went to lunch with Chairman Han. She was there with Mr. Han.” Chaeha gave a thin smile to her friend, as she sat back down. The older woman then turned her attention to the younger woman in front of her. Deep chocolate eyes studied the student before her.

“Yeah, I had to talk to him about my grades.” The words had come out quick as Yeoja lied. Praying that Chaeha would not say anything about the RFA. How would she explain that to her teacher?

The two older women talked about little things in hopes to make Yeoja feel more comfortable. In time, Yeoja began to enter the conversation. Stuttering her words at first then becoming more comfortable in her speech. Still, every time Chaeha’s gaze went to her, Yeoja had to look away. Finding many of the little figures and posters that lined the walls of the room very interesting. There was something in her stare that made her feel uncomfortable. Maybe it was just her nerves acting up on her. This woman had been a politician’s wife for many years. She was powerful. Having to hold her own for many years. Maybe this is what made her feel unease towards the woman. This could have been seen nothing more as a job interview.

“So, next semester you will be working for your master’s degree?” Chaeha questioned. Sitting forward in her chair. Elbows coming to rest on her knees. Yeoja shifted again under the watch of the older woman.

“Um, Yeah,” Yeoja mumbled. Taking a deep breath to calm herself. She had to make sure the next words she spoke came in clear. “I mean I am taking next semester off. I will be back in January.” She went to stand straight. Even if she was feeling flustered at that moment, she could not show it.

Another thin smile came to the prime minister’s wife as she sat back in her chair. “Do you have an idea about what you want to do? With your project that is?”

“I had an outline but now that I know you’re willing to help me then I might need to change it. Maybe something with political implications. Still in Psychology that is.” The more Yeoja spoke the more comfortable she felt. Becoming braver with each word that came from her mouth. “My interest is in art therapy, but I do not think my paper has to just focus just in that. Maybe the psychological and political impact of single mothers or something in the family.”

Chaeha laugh ranged loudly, “I see what you meant by this girl will try and change the world.”

Yeoja rocked back on her heels, a large grin on her lips. She was happy with how the prime minister’s wife reacted to her. It seemed as if Dr. Park was happy as well.

“Well, we are about to go eat. You should join us, I’ll pay.” Yeoja looked at her advisor when she clapped her hands. “I mean I might be bragging here to try and get more funding. But Yeoja is one of my best students.”

“I’m sorry.” Yeoja joked back. Then looking at her phone. It had only been 20 minutes since she left Yoosung. She still had time and no college student in their right mind would ever pass up free food. Free food and the chance to pick the brain of a former lawyer. “I have a little time. Yoosung won’t get out for like another two hours.”

A cat like grin went over Chaeha’s lips. “Oh, Yoosung is your husband, right?”

“He’s like my little brother. My husband’s name is Saeyoung, Saeyoung Choi.” Yeoja laughed at what Yoosung would have looked like being called her husband. How the blonde’s face would have red. Stumbling over each word as he tried to clear his name. The genius redhead would blow a circuit laughing at his friend.

“Does your husband know you hang around other men?” Chaeha teased.

“I would hope so since Yoosung is like family to him as well. My other guy friends, we also count as our family. One big dysfunctional family.” This was true. They were their family. “Oh, I need to go to my car to drop off my stuff. I’ll be back.”

Before Yeoja reached the door, Dr. Park caught her, “No, I can drive you there.”

“But, um…” Her voice trailed off as she looked at Chaeha.

“Are you worried about what she’ll think of you if she sees your car? Sweetie, we both were college students. We know it’s almost mandatory to drive a shitty car.” *_*_* Saeyoung typed away, only to pull away for a chip or a drink. He was reviewing the logs that he had hacked from his father. Call log, internet searches, documents, anything that would give Saeyoung an idea about what the Prime Minister was doing. In the week since the meeting, he had done this every day. Still, the man did nothing to even look for the Choi’s. Saeyoung had wracked his brain in ways that he could think of that Chon might try. Nothing. He had not tried to contact either of the twins. He was keeping his word. Hell, the man did not even look up porn on any of his devices.

Placing his head in his hands Saeyoung let out an annoyed groan. As he looked back at the computer screen he noticed something for the next day. He would be talking to a group of new hires. Maybe doing a bit of recon would give him more data.

“Hey,” Saeyoung waited until he heard Saeran grunt to let him know to start speaking again, “So how would you feel if I said I was going to be a new hire under the prime minister?”

“I would say that you’re fucking stupid. Did you get that earpiece fixed?” Saeran was getting just as frustrated with dealing with the Prime Minister as Saeyoung was. Unlike Saeyoung, Saeran could drop the subject and move on with life. If he was leaving them alone then he would do the same thing. Saeyoung just could not leave it alone. Within the past couple of days checking his location on his cell. Checking every day what the man did. Saeran knew his brother’s reason, to keep everyone safe.

“I fixed it so you can hear me.” Saeyoung turned in his chair to face his younger brother. He turned back to the screen and began to hack the server again to put his information down.

Name: Luciel Choi Age: 23 Gender:

Saeyoung stopped as he thought about the last question. He could go as a woman. Luciel could be a woman’s name or a man’s name. That’s was one of the reasoning he liked it.

“Yeoja doesn’t like it when you dress as a woman.” Saeran’s voice in his ear made him jump.

As if on cue the computer beeped to let them know that she had entered the gate. It was a short time later that she walked in the door. The hackers greeted her as she entered the kitchen.

“Babe, so dress or suit?” Saeyoung purred in Yeoja’s ear.

“If you do not get away now I will throw up on you. You reek.” An arm braced her on the counter while the other was around her middle. Saeyoung stepped behind his brother. “If we are talking about the wedding then suit. Any other time I don’t care. If that’s all I’m going to bed.”

“Saeran said that you didn’t like it when I wore a dress.”

“I don’t like you having nicer legs than me. There is a big difference.” She said as she left the room.

Saeran looked at Saeyoung as they went back to the computer room, “I thought it was called morning sickness because it only happened in the morning.”

That earned a laugh from Yeoja from down the hallway, “It’s the biggest lie ever. Morning sickness will hit whenever it damn well pleases.” She shouted.

Saeyoung went back to the file.

Gender:

It was still blank. He only had his female wigs in red. If he wore a skirt and button down he would be a mirror image of the legal twin. With a sigh, he put that he was male. Then filled out the rest. Brown hair and eyes. Saeyoung groaned at the idea of another day with contacts in. The wig was bearable, enjoyable sometimes. For some reason his eyes hated contacts. With a few more details he placed his file with the rest of the new hires.

Saeyoung went to check on Yeoja. Entering the room the lava lamp gave a low glow that let the glow in the dark stars still work. Yeoja was in the middle of the bed with the blankets wrapped around her.

“Change or you’re not getting near me.” This earned a chuckle from the hacker. He complied with her demand before slipping in behind her under the blankets. He loved how she fit just right in his arms and against his body.

“My poor baby. What’s wrong.” He kissed the back of her head.

“Your children do not like me eating. Also, they must have been cold because they lit my heart up. I have some epic heartburn.” Saeyoung quickly rolled over and grabbed his phone. She just shook her head as the messenger beeped. It took her a moment before she reached her phone to find out what her favorite hacker was giggling like a school girl about. Saeyoung: I

Saeyoung: have

Saeyoung: breaking

Saeyoung: news

Saeyoung: ((((DRUMROLL))

Zen: Quit spamming!!

Saeyoung: We

Saeyoung: are

Saeyoung: having

Saeyoung: girls

Saeyoung: !!!!!!!!!!

Saeyoung then flooded the chat with his love emoji.

Yeoja has entered the chat

Zen: I said quit it damn it

Zen: Do you know what he is talking about?

Yeoja: Yeah, I just told him I had heartburn and he got on here.

Zen: Saeyoung I don’t think that’s how it works!

Saeyoung posted a picture of the last ultrasound.

Saeyoung: Aren’t my girls beautiful?

Saeyoung: I would like to introduce the RFA to my girls

Saeyoung: Porsche and Elizabeth

Zen: No!!

Yeoja: Not Porsche

Yeoja: Elizabeth is fine though

Saeyoung: Their first language they’re going to learn is binary

Zen: No!

Yeoja: Hell no!

Jaehee has entered the chat

Zen: As those two godfather I will not stand for you to do that to them

Zen: They will learn Korean first

Jaehee: Since when did you become their Godfather, Zen?

Zen: … well

Zen: I was never asked…

Zen: But I am!

Yeoja: Well, I was going to ask all of the RFA to be the Godparents to them. So he isn’t wrong.

Saeyoung: My pretty girls!!

Saeyoung: Curly red hair and gold eyes!

Jaehee: Saeyoung you can not tell the sex of your children by just her having heartburn.

Saeyoung: I read it online…

Yeoja has left the chat.

Zen: Is she okay?

Saeyoung looked over to see Yeoja putting away her phone quickly as she dashed out the room.

Saeyoung: She’s sick I should go take care of my girls!!

Saeyoung posted another picture of the ultrasound.

Saeyoung has left the chat It was a while before she returned. Just as she entered Yeoja turned around and ran back into the bathroom. He rolled onto his back and covered his eyes with his arm. Saeyoung wished there was more he could do for her. Yeoja did not like the ginger tea he’d made to help and threw up the ginger ale. It was times like these he hated. There was nothing he could do to help. After the third attempt, Yeoja made it back to bed.

“Hey lay on your back.” She did as he asked.

Saeyoung moved to be close to her side. Then began to rub around the bump higher to her stomach then back to circle around the bump again. He pressed a kiss to her forehead as his hand made another go around her torso.

“I’m sorry baby.” Yeoja shook her head as he peppered the side of head and neck with kisses.

“No, thank you, I’m starting to feel better.” Saeyoung smiled as he kissed her hair.

“I’ll make it all better.”

[lauraxxtennant]

fic: the trace of pleasure or regret, (3/5)

Previous: One - Two

Ao3

“You do realise this is the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for me, right?” Rose asked two weeks later, as they sat inside an open-air monorail carriage, travelling slowly on a stilted track overlooking the Firefly Display of Ludolphi.

The Doctor chuckled, and tugged on his ear. “Well, it’s Christmas. Had to bring you somewhere special.”

“Thanks, Doctor,” she said softly, and snuggled into him, lifting his arm around her shoulders.

They had the carriage to themselves, and he held her close, unable to resist nuzzling the top of her head. “You’re welcome.”

Her hand was resting on his thigh, a warm pressure that kept making him blush every time he glanced down and saw it.

In the days that followed their discussion in the console room, they had resumed their ostensibly platonic but actually entirely not platonic gestures of affection, and were growing very adept at lying to themselves quite thoroughly about it. He pretended he didn’t want to pull her into his lap and let her have her way with him every time she ruffled his hair, and she pretended she wasn’t turned on each time he so much as stroked his hand down her arm on his way to entwining their fingers. The both of them ignored the heated looks they sent each other’s way, and neither of them said a word when, during a rough landing as the TARDIS materialised this morning, he’d ended up half on top of her, one leg between hers and her hip digging into his zip.

He thought they deserved some sort of award, quite frankly, especially since she was wearing a skirt today. It really wouldn’t require any effort at all for him to just -

“It’s like magic,” she whispered, watching the fireflies dart through the air in increasingly intricate patterns.

“It is,” he nodded, turning his gaze back to the deep purple sky. “It’ll be winding down soon, though. We should get off at the next stop, make our way back to the TARDIS. By the look of that sky, there’ll be a snowstorm later tonight.”

“That’s amazing,” she said, glancing at him. “Fireflies are lighting up the sky, and then later it’s gonna snow? It’s lovely.”

“Yeah, wait ‘til you see the snowflakes.”

The train slowed to a stop, and they disembarked, making their way down the spiral staircase to ground level. The monorail had taken them on a circular trip around the Ludolphi National Park, so they were only about twenty minutes away from where they had parked the TARDIS.

Rose slipped her gloved hand into his, and swung their arms between them as they walked. “So this happens every Christmas, for them?”

“On their version of Christmas, yes. They watch the display, then go back to their grottos for a feast of dried fruits and nuts.”

Rose wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, that’s no match for Mum’s roast.”

“It’s certainly not the most filling of meals, I grant you. Are you peckish? We can stop off somewhere for food before you head to bed.”

“No, it’s all right, I’m still full from that pasta we had for dinner. You made way too much.”

“Needed to provide you sustenance for our night out in the cold,” he explained. “It was tasty though, right?”

“It was scrumptious,” she confirmed, grinning up at him with her tongue-touched smile.

“Good.”

A group of children - whose appearance, Rose had mentioned to him earlier, reminded her of the Whos in her favourite Christmas film - stopped them, then, blocking their path so that they could sing them a festive tune and stick out their hats for some stray coins.

Rose nudged his shoulder. “Go on then, they’ve got lovely voices, give them something.”

He was digging around in his pocket, trying to find the appropriate currency. “Aha!” He tossed some buttons into the rosy-cheeked choir leader’s hat, nodding to her in acknowledgement.

“Buttons?” Rose laughed.

“That’s what they trade in here.”

She shook her head, amazed once again.

The little girl he’d given the buttons to handed something to Rose. “What’s that?” he asked, as the kids went on their way.

“It’s mistletoe.” Rose bit her lip, then looped the sprig around the pompom on her woolly hat, waggling her eyebrows at him.

The Doctor laughed nervously. “Very nice. Decorative.” He touched it, and it fell out a little, so he secured it properly, then met her gaze again. She looked all hopeful and delicious and he wanted nothing more than to lean in closer. His eyes dropped to her mouth for a second, before returning to hers.

They hastily resumed their walk.

“So,” she said, taking his hand again. “What other festive traditions do they have here?”

“Hmm, not sure I recall what else.” His eyes lit up in sudden remembrance. “Oh! They do have this rather charming one - not everyone does it, but some light torches all along the paths to their homes, to guide anyone who might be in need of companionship to those who are willing to welcome some lonely soul into their home for the season.”

Rose’s brow furrowed. “That’s really sweet. But if that happened where I’m from, people would misuse it.”

“Hmm?”

“Could be a trap, right? Some murderer might lure an unsuspecting victim into their house. Or the other way around - the stranger to the house might worm his way in and then turn the whole thing into something out of a horror film - ” She caught his alarmed look. “What?”

“Full of Christmas spirit, you, eh?” he remarked.

“Just saying.”

He shook his head. “Thankfully, I don’t believe anything like that’s happened here.”

“Yet,” she said ominously.

“How sinister. Right, we need to shake this suspicious nature of yours,” he laughed. “Come with me.”

Veering off from the route to the TARDIS, he led Rose through the park until they reached a small lake. They looked across, and saw several paths leading up from the banks to little huts. Each path was lined with lit torches, encased in small domes to protect the flames from the impending snow.

“Ah, you see! Those families over there are getting involved. Shall we see if they’d take in us stragglers?” He nodded to the bridge they could walk across to get to the residents.

Some of them were outside at the moment, laughing and dancing as one of the children played an instrument a bit like a violin. Rose watched, smiling.

“They do seem pretty harmless,” she conceded.

“Yep. Just opening their homes in goodwill to those who need it. Do you want to go and chat?”

Rose looked reluctant, which he found surprising, as she was always up for befriending the locals, usually. “I guess we could,” she replied.

“You don’t want to,” he realised, and squeezed her hand. 

“It’s not that I seriously think they’re secret murderers,” she laughed. “I mean, if I did actually think that, then we’d be heading over to put a stop to it.”

He chuckled.

“But...” Her free hand wandered up his arm, stroking the sleeve of his coat. “We’re not lonely souls. And I don’t fancy a meal of fruits and nuts, however lovely they are.”

“Okay,” he nodded. To be honest, he’d rather not extend their stay here further anyway. They’d had a really nice day together, just them, no trouble or things getting in the way. 

“Besides,” she continued, and seemed to read his mind, “I wanted it to just be...us, tonight.”

The Doctor hid his smile by turning them around, leading her back towards the TARDIS. “Yeah.”

“I’ve really enjoyed all this. Thanks for bringing me here.”

He could sense her looking up at him as they walked, and he shrugged modestly.

They passed some more children, slightly older than the group who had sung to them earlier. “It’s gonna snow!” one said gleefully.

Rose grinned. “They look so excited. Don’t they get snow often?”

“Around this time of year, yeah - always seem to have a white Christmas, this lot. But building snowmen never really loses its charm for kids, does it? Even if they do it every year.”

Rose giggled. “You want to stick around and build one too? You’re such a big kid.”

He sniffed. “No.” He paused. “But I bet I could build a good one.”

“I bet you could, too,” she placated him, patting his arm. 

There was a small patch of ice on the path, and Rose lost her footing, turning her pat into a grab for balance. “Woah, careful,” he said, using his free arm to help her get steady.

She looked up at him, and he could feel her pulse racing against his wrist. “Thanks,” she said softly.

“No problem. Neither of us need any more falling-over-related injuries.”

“Yeah, we seem to be doing that a lot,” she realised, laughing. “Your fault, with your poor flying.”

“The TARDIS was just feeling a tad off today, that’s why we had a rough landing - ”

“Sure, sure, blame it on your ship.”

“It’s true!”

“The TARDIS didn’t fling us to the floor of the library that time, though. That was all you, breaking that poor ladder. Which you still haven’t fixed, by the way!”

“Does it need to be fixed so urgently? And did you have to bring that up, I’d just about blocked that out.”

“Yeah! I love that sliding ladder, makes me feel like I’m in a castle or something.”

The Doctor laughed, and felt the urge to hug her. He didn’t, because it’d be out of nowhere and look completely ridiculous, so he settled for slipping his arm around her waist, holding her loosely and hoping it wasn’t too obvious. Her hand slipped from his so that both of hers were now resting in the crooks of his elbows, so he raised his other arm, too, encircling her, and basically getting the hug he wanted, sort of. There was still enough space between them for them to converse face to face.

“Why are you so embarrassed about it, anyway?” she asked.

“Because it was embarrassing!”

“Why?”

“Because we were...it was all a bit...odd, that day. That whole week. And maybe I was, I don’t know, gonna flirt with you a bit, tease you about wanting to read Time Lord books, and then instead I made a fool of myself, breaking the moment. And a piece of furniture.”

“It wasn’t much of a moment, to be honest. We’ve had better. And trust you, thinking teasing someone about books equates to flirting.”

“Well.” He huffed. “It could have been a moment.”

“Yeah?” She raised her eyebrows. “What were you planning on doing, exactly?”

“I honestly don’t know, but I had some vague notions about - well, we’d watched that TV show the night before, and those two characters you liked who were both pretending one was teaching the other how to play pool, but really, it was just an excuse to get all close and personal, and...”

Rose smirked. “And you decided by climbing up behind me you could ‘teach me about literature’ when you really just wanted a cuddle?”

He tilted his head to the side. “Maybe.”

“You’re so daft.”

“I missed you.”

“I was right there.”

“Yes, but it all felt...wrong. Strained.”

“I know,” she said gently. “But we’ve fixed it now, right? Think we’ve got this ‘just friends’ thing down perfect.”

The Doctor raised an eyebrow.

“What?” she asked innocently.

“Nothing. You’re right. We’ve been exceedingly well-behaved.”

“So why that look?”

“Because...” He sighed, eyeing the mistletoe still decorating her hat, and telling himself to have more willpower. They’d been doing so well. All these long, happy, funny days they’d had lately, without him once thinking of kissing her. Well, all right, he’d thought about it, quite a lot, perhaps, but neither of them had tried to act on it. Much. He supposed it could be argued that he’d nearly leaned in last night, when she tackled him for the TV remote and his hand had accidentally landed on her bare thigh (she wore those pyjama shorts of hers on purpose, he just knew it) and their eyes had met and her hand dropped to his chest, thumb stroking his sternum through the gap in his shirt, and - 

And then the volume of the TV dramatically increased as one of them leant on the remote, and they were shocked into withdrawing their various limbs, and instead sat side by side without touching for the rest of their Disney movie marathon.

“Because?” she whispered.

“Because sometimes it’s just so...you’re just so...” The Doctor exhaled a long breath. “Tempting.”

Rose slid her arms up, linking her hands behind the back of his neck. Her gloves impeded any chance of her running her fingers through his hair, but he appreciated the embrace just the same.

“You do know all we’re doing is prolonging the inevitable, yeah? I mean, I’m trying, I really am,” she said, giving him her best, most earnest look, “But when you look at me the way you do and say things like that, I remember that you want me back and I get a little drunk on it.”

“Perhaps if we just…” he started, tilting his head towards her, “Perhaps if we just allow ourselves a kiss, now and then, it’ll clear our heads. Maybe that can be enough.”

“Do you really think so?” she asked, clearly dubious.

“No, of course not. But can’t you just indulge me?” he replied, smirking a bit. “It is Christmas.”

“That’s a dangerous path, Doctor.”

“Spiralling down the rabbit hole, opening a can of worms - yes, I know.” He slipped his hands around to grab her hips through her thick winter jacket. “But it’d feel nice.”

“And festive,” she reasoned, wobbling her head to indicate the mistletoe.

“Exactly!” He liked her idea; ran with it. “We’d be doing this holiday an injustice if we passed that tradition up.”

“True…”

He lifted one hand to cup her jaw, stroking his thumb softly against her cheek. “Merry Christmas, Rose Tyler.”

Just as he leant down to press his lips to hers, her phone started ringing. Her eyes shot to his, wide and shocked and, he hoped, disappointed, and he couldn’t help but laugh.

“That’ll be Jackie,” he guessed, smiling at Rose graciously. “Impeccable timing, as always.”

“I can ignore it,” she suggested, her hand flying to his, to keep it where it was, against her cheek.

“She’ll keep ringing. Go on, answer it.” He settled for kissing her forehead, then let go of her, stepping back.

Grumbling under her breath, Rose finally dug her phone out of her jacket pocket, answering with a curt, “Yes?” Her demeanor changed swiftly, however, as whoever was on the other end spoke to her. “Oh! Hi! How are you?”

Frowning, curious, the Doctor gestured towards a nearby bench, and they sat close together. Well, Rose sat down after him and there was space between them, so he scooted over, closing the distance, eager to eavesdrop. It didn’t sound like Jackie.

“Oh my god, that’s amazing! Congratulations!”

Her hand landed on his thigh as she made her surprised exclamation, and he was once again momentarily mesmerised by the sight. Then, he pulled himself together and listened to her, because she was saying something very alarming.

“Sure! Yeah, we’d love to come! I can’t believe this, Shareen, I’m so happy for you. Ha, no fear! Nah, that’s not what we’re...no. Don’t be daft.”

The Doctor watched curiously as Rose blushed crimson. She looked adorable, sitting here in her colourful scarf and hat, all cosy and warm as snowflakes started to fall, catching in her hair and on her eyelashes. He wondered briefly what was making her all flushed and flustered, then decided he didn’t really care because she was squeezing his thigh in that distracted way again.

“No. Way,” she gasped. “Did she really? Oh my god, I hope we get to see that!”

He was intrigued again; he liked a good gossip. Clearly one of her friends from back home had done something scandalous. He grinned, wondering how they would react if they heard some of things Rose Tyler got up to.

Not of that nature, of course, but - well. Still exciting. Adventurous. No doubt if they did get up to things of that nature, then she’d be just as -

“Okay, I’ll tell him. Yes. Yes. I promise. I’ll make him give it to me as my Christmas present, then he won’t be able to refuse.” She smiled that smile of hers with the tongue at the corner of her mouth and he sighed, wondering what he was about to get himself into.

“Yep, okay. Bye for now! See you soon!” She hung up and pocketed her phone, then turned her body towards him on the bench, removing her hand from his thigh only to fiddle with his lapel. “Doctor…”

He steeled himself; she wouldn’t best him too quickly. He had to make a show of resisting whatever it was she wanted, especially as she was using that tone of voice she used that indicated he wasn’t gonna like what she had to say.

“Ro-ose,” he mimicked, drawing out her name.

“You know how I’m your best mate and you like me a lot?”

“Mmm?”

“And you know how it’s Christmas and at Christmas you do things to make people happy?”

“Yes…?”

“And you know how I’m always good for keeping up my end of a deal?”

“Indeed.”

She grinned. “Okay, so there’s this wedding.”

The Doctor groaned. “No.”

“It’s Shareen’s! She’s getting married. I can’t miss that.”

“I’ll drop you off and you can go but I’m not - ”

“Please come with, Doctor, it’ll be fun!”

“Weddings are boring even when you know the people involved; I’ve barely spoken to Shareen, I won’t know the groom, I’ll - I’ll be bored stiff!”

She pouted. “Even with me there?”

“Yes! Weddings are ridiculous, a waste of everyone’s time if you ask me.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “Well, the romance had to end sometime, I guess,” she muttered.

“The only good thing about weddings is the cake, and even that can sometimes be a bit on the dry side, which is always such a disappointment.”

“Doctor.”

“And it’s just - so domestic.”

“I’ll do anything you want if you come with me.”

“And there’s never any - ” He paused, taking in her words, and lifted an eyebrow. “Anything I want?”

She met his eye fearlessly. “Yeah. Like I said. I always stick to a deal. If you aren’t gonna come to the wedding out of the goodness of your hearts, then the least you can do is make a pact with me about it.”

The Doctor leant his elbow against the back of the bench, scratching at his temple as he considered this. She leant closer, eyes bright and hopeful.

“You don’t have to decide the terms now. You can have a think about that. But I’ll make it worth your while,” she promised.

“I’m sure you will,” he murmured, gaze drawn to her mouth as she licked her lips. A snowflake fell there shortly after, and she licked again as it melted. The pull of attraction was too strong, in that moment, to resist. His hand went to the back of her head, accidentally dislodging her hat, and he moved her mouth to meet his, kissing her gently. She gasped, and he took a moment to whisper, “To be clear, this isn’t part of the deal, you were gonna kiss me just now anyway - ” But before he could continue, she’d smushed their lips together again, and he promptly got lost in the kiss.

A few minutes of utter bliss was all he was granted, however, as the snowfall started to get heavier, impeding their efforts. They parted and he stood, settling her hat back on her head with a sheepish grin, before linking their hands as they wordlessly walked the rest of the way back to the TARDIS.

Snow on Ludolphi was a beautiful thing to behold, as the unique properties of this planet’s water and atmosphere meant that, when frozen, tiny pinpricks of what looked like pink crystals emerged in its rain. Rose’s reaction to it, when she noticed, was enough to make his hearts speed up as quickly as when she was kissing him. She didn’t say anything, but her wide-eyed wonder and the way she whirled her head about as she took it all in...and that smile. When she looked up at him with that smile -

He really would do anything for her, regardless of deals and promises, and he wondered if she even knew.

::

“I forgot to ask,” the Doctor said, sticking his head out from under the console.

Rose looked up from her magazine. “What’s that?”

“Why were you blushing earlier, when Shareen was talking to you on the phone?”

She kept her cool, returning her gaze to her article. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Rose could feel his eyes on her, still, and after several seconds, couldn’t resist looking at him again. He’d finished his repairs, apparently, which he’d insisted were necessary once they’d got back to the TARDIS this evening. She knew he was just using them as an excuse to get away from her for a bit, after their kiss. She didn’t mind, expected it, even; but she wasn’t gonna let him push her too far away, hence why she’d lingered on the jumpseat reading rather than abandoning the room altogether.

Now, he was scooting out from the console and wiping his hands on a stray cloth. He glanced at the console screen for a moment, pressed a button or two, then casually came to stand in front of her.

Once they’d returned to the TARDIS’ relative warmth, both of them had quickly shuffled out of their coats. Rose had removed her hat and scarf, tossing them to the grating, to the Doctor’s grunt of disapproval, and he’d picked them up and draped them over the railing, next to where he’d put his jacket. She’d forgotten to laugh at him for it because he successfully distracted her by rolling up his shirtsleeves.

Two utterly delicious bare forearms appeared in her line of vision, now, and her magazine was whisked away.

“Hey, it’s rude to snatch,” she protested, folding her arms. “If you’d wanted to read ‘top ten tips for getting your man,’ you could’ve just asked.” She shot him a grin, triumphant, and he gave the article a cursory glance.

“You read this stuff?” he remarked, arching an eyebrow.

“Not usually. Dunno if it works on aliens, anyway.”

“Well, this magazine is from Dex Seven in the year 3029,” he pointed out, “So I suppose it depends on your definition of ‘aliens.’” He grinned back at her innocently, unfazed.

She’d have to be more blunt. “Time Lords,” she corrected casually, shrugging a shoulder, “Dunno if works on Time Lords.”

He read a paragraph or two, made a small noise of displeasure, and tossed the magazine over his shoulder.

“I take it that’s a no,” she laughed.

“I’m sure you could write a much more thorough, much more accurate top ten tips.” He plonked down next to her, extending his arm along the back of the jumpseat behind her.

God, she loved it when he let loose a little and flirted with her. He’d been getting steadily braver with it as the night had gone on. “Oh, you reckon?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Step one,” Rose considered. “Invite him to your friend’s wedding.”

He tilted his head, smothering a laugh. “Hmm, nah, don’t think that’ll work, sorry.”

“Step two, wear a sexy dress…”

“Well.” He basically conceded her that one, what with the way his eyes glazed over as he no doubt pictured her potential outfits.

“Three - direct him to the nibbles and cake.”

“Ah, you’re onto something.”

“Four...hmm. I know - pull him up on the dancefloor with you.”

The Doctor wrinkled his nose. “Oh, really Rose, and you were doing so well.”

“Right, but you’ll love it really, because, see…” She leant in close and said, conspiratorially, “If you dance with him, you’re not dancing with anyone else, and he’ll like that. And it means you’ll be pressed up against one another just like he dreams of.”

The Doctor smirked, tongue behind his teeth for a second, then corrected, “Well, not exactly like he dreams of.”

Rose was about to lean in and snog his face off again, but remembered that she’d better check it was still within the parameters of their...festive indulgence.

“Is it still Christmas?” she asked abruptly, and he blinked, so she repeated her question.

“We’ve not dematerialised yet, no, and when’s this wedding exactly? Christmastime, right? So we’ll head to London, and it’ll still be Christmas.”

“Yeah, the 22nd. Shareen only just realised that the invite she sent to us didn’t get passed on. Mum forgot.”

“Oh, bless Jackie. I was so close to getting out of it, and to think, your mother helped me! Alas.”

“Nah, Mum found the invite while she was putting the decorations up, and realised her mistake. She phoned Shareen and Shareen phoned me.”

“I like Jackie Tyler no longer,” he declared dramatically, then jumped up. “Right, let’s get this over with.”

“Wait, what? We’re going now?”

“Don’t you want to?”

“Well, no. It’s like, 11pm. We’ve had a long day, I’m not exactly up for a wedding right now. Can’t we just linger in the vortex for a bit while I get some sleep? Then I can get ready properly tomorrow before we head out. Shareen said we’re expected at Mum’s about noon, so we’ll get a lift with her and Bev.”

The Doctor groaned, again. It was starting to give Rose ideas, if she were honest. “Beverly is going, too? Oh, Rassilon help me.”

“What have you got against Bev?” Rose demanded, as she retrieved her magazine and winter outerwear to take back with her to her room. “She used to babysit me and Shareen when we were little, she’s a right laugh.”

“What have I got against Bev? What haven’t I got against Bev!”

He followed her when she started walking down the corridor to her bedroom, and she smiled to herself, already plotting how she could get him to linger in her doorway with her for a kiss goodnight.

He prattled on, listing on his fingers, “Firstly, the day after Boxing Day last year, she insulted my coat. Janis Joplin gave me this coat! Then, on New Year’s Eve - which, if you’ll remember, I stuck around for, purely for you - ”

“Not at all because you were still feeling a bit poorly after your regeneration and wanted the comfort of Mum’s cooking, then?”

“Certainly not,” he sniffed, but his reply was a second too late to be considered anything other than hesitant. “Anyway, on New Year’s Eve, while you, Rose Tyler, had swanned off somewhere, at midnight, probably to kiss some pretty boy or something - ”

“Hey! I did not. I was actually holding Keisha’s hair back while she threw up in the loo, thank you.” They reached her bedroom door, which was open, and she chucked her stuff through it onto her floor. He frowned at her, which she ignored, and they both leant against the doorframe.

“Oh. Well, good.”

“Good?”

“Mmm.” He looked very relieved.

“Has that seriously been playing on your mind all year? Whether I kissed someone that night?”

“Well, you didn’t kiss me.”

“So naturally, I must’ve kissed someone else?”

“Maybe,” he squeaked. “You kissed Mickey in front of me once. And Jack.” He huffed, momentary relief dismissed, apparently. “Probably Adam, too. Glad I didn’t notice that one. And who knows who else!”

“I don’t really fancy going over each other’s kiss list,” she said, rolling her eyes. “But what happened with Bev? I’m on the edge of my seat, here.”

“You’re standing up.”

“You know what I mean!”

“Oh, right, well, involuntarily, I assure you, I suppose she’d technically, inexplicably, horrifically, be on my ‘kiss list.’”

“Oh my god! Hahahaha,” Rose doubled over laughing.

“Excuse me, I don’t think being kissed against my will is particularly worthy of such a display of hilarity.”

Rose sobered, but couldn’t quite stop the corners of her mouth from twitching. “Right, sorry, you’re right. Was she drunk?”

“Yes. Exceedingly so.”

“Okay, well, I’ll make sure she behaves herself at this wedding, won’t let her near too many bottles of wine.”

“You’ll have a task on your hands, there.”

She patted his chest fondly. “I really am sorry, Doctor. I didn’t know she’d do that. Obviously. Wouldn’t have let her near you if I thought…” she trailed off when he started to smirk. “Not because I’d be jealous,” she assured him. “Just because I wouldn’t want you to be kissed against your will, of course.”

“Of course.”

“You won’t wanna stick around London for Christmas and New Year this time, then, I take it? If last year’s has such bad memories for you.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that - Beverly aside - my memories of last Christmas were particularly bad.”

“You regenerated, was in a coma, fought a Sycorax in borrowed pjs, and threw up from what you called ‘overstimulation’ on Boxing Day night.”

“The bright lights and all that food, Rose Tyler; it was quite a day for a newly regenerated me! But anyway, what’s your point?”

“Don’t all that seem like a pretty subpar Christmas to you?”

“Definitely not. This year could go better, certainly. But last year’s wasn’t bad. I had quite a lovely time.”

“Seriously.”

“Yes! Didn’t you?”

“Well...yeah,” she realised, thinking back. Apart from her confusion about the regeneration and missing the old Doctor like crazy, she’d been a bit giddy with it all, with the way he’d been with her, all silly and sexy and flirty and holding her hand and telling her he’d love her to travel with him and - “So, wait, we can stay with Mum for a bit, then?”

Caught by his own enthusiasm, she watched in amusement as his face contorted in displeasure, before he settled on a tentative, “I suppose.”

“Great!” She stood on tiptoes and spontaneously kissed his cheek. “Thanks, Doctor.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, but he sounded unsure about it.

“Don’t worry,” she assured him, “I’ll make that worth your while too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She glanced into her room. “I’d better get to bed. Gotta get up earlier than usual if I wanna be fit to be seen by all my old friends in posh frocks tomorrow.”

“No you don’t,” he said softly. “You could show up just like this and look better than all of them put together.”

Rose couldn’t help it - she blushed. It was cheesy as anything, what he said, but she blushed, because he looked like he genuinely meant it, and didn’t consider it cheesy at all. “To you, maybe,” she said, with an embarrassed laugh.

He shrugged, and they were silent for a few heartbeats. Then, just as she was wondering how to give him a hint, he miraculously did it for her. “So, still Christmas…”

She beamed at him. “Goodnight kiss is allowed, then, right? If it’s ‘cos of the...festivities.”

“Mm, yes, exactly. I’m glad we’re on the same page about this.”

“Me too.”

“In fact…” He dove into his pocket and pulled out a sprig of mistletoe, which he must’ve picked up with her hat in the console room, affixing it to the top of her doorway. “Better pop that there. Just to be sure.”

“Of course. Good plan.”

He pulled her into his arms and gave her a kiss goodnight so thorough that she felt it in her knees, which again, was cheesy as anything, but happened to be the truth.