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jamespotterthefirst · 4 years ago

Note

Lovely Bree, how are you doing? Firstly thank you so much for the amazing questions that you sent me for E & P. I loved answering them❤ Sending you a few questions about Ethan and Lilac which you have to answer as them💕

For Both:

1. Imagine you both are rival Detectives assigned to a common case. Who will be the one to solve it first? Or will you both join hands and solve it together?

2. What is the funniest thing your partner has done when they were drunk?

3. Favourite ice cream flavor of your partner?

4. What is a funny habit of your partner that you secretly like?

5. Have you ever done something only and only to annoy your partner?

6. How does your partner react when they are jealous?

For Lilac:

1. If you had to say I love you to Ethan without actually saying the words, how would you do it?

2. What is something that would make Ethan blush immediately?

3. If you were given an option to choose between writing a letter to Ethan once every month or writing him small notes everyday, which one would you choose?

4. What is the sweetest gift he has ever given you?

5. If you had to assign your relationship a fanfiction trope, which one would you choose?

For Ethan:

1. What is something that you started doing after getting into a relationship with Lilac?

2. If you could pick any three places to take her on a date, which ones would you choose? (They can anywhere around the world)

3. You have been asked to put together a care package for Lilac. What things do you put in it?

4. Which hobbies/interests of Lilac do you find weird?

5. If you had to put together a bouquet for Lilac usig any two flowers, which ones would you choose?

Thank you so much for these! I am so happy you liked the Ethan x Pooja ones. And it means so much that you UNO reverse card-ed me! LOVE YOU!

For Both:

1. Imagine you both are rival Detectives assigned to a common case. Who will be the one to solve it first? Or will you both join hands and solve it together?

Lilac: *giddy with excitement*

Ethan: Here we go...

Lilac: First, rival detectives? That would be so hot. Ethan would secretly be in love with me, no doubt about it. He'd walk around his precinct, in a foul mood after a run-in with that insolent Detective Allende. He'd go on rants through gritted teeth about how she thinks she's above procedure and how she fancies herself a rebel--

Ethan: You're having way too much fun with this.

Lilac: --but really he'd be frustrated that he couldn't press me against a wall and kiss me senseless.

Ethan: *doesn't deny it* You're forgetting the original question, love.

Lilac: I'm setting the stage, babe. You being madly in love with me is important to the plot. Okay, so regarding the case... Even though we would each make impressive headway by ourselves, we are each missing a piece the other has. For example, I'd be pretty good about examining the timeline and interviewing suspects and any person of interest.

Ethan: Then, with the information she secures, I would be relentless about acquiring hard evidence that could really lead to a conviction. We would make a stellar team.

Lilac: Once you focused on the case and not on my lips.

Ethan: *with a ghost of a smile* An impossible feat but one I have years of experience trying to achieve.

2. What is the funniest thing your partner has done when they were drunk?

Ethan: My alcohol tolerance is excellent. I don't get drunk.

Lilac: Yes, he does. He might not be a loud, emotional drunk like I am, but his cheeks get flushed the cutest shade of red and his eyes sparkle in the sexiest way. He gets into this highly intellectual and argumentative state of mind, challenging anyone who is nearby to a philosophical debate. The funniest thing he's done while drunk is lecture my friends and I about why do we, as humans, strive for perfection if it is not attainable. It was hot.

Ethan: It was necessary.

Lilac: None of my friends were up for the challenge. It’s difficult to initiate an intellectual debate with Cardi B playing in the background and with tequila shots flowing freely amongst the group.

Ethan: Speaking of non-stop tequila shots, the funniest thing Lilac has done while intoxicated is text me incessantly, telling me how much she missed me and how badly she wished I was next to her.

Lilac: That’s more sweet than it is funny, babe.

Ethan: I was right next to you. I was the one holding you up for balance.

3. Favourite ice cream flavor of your partner?

Lilac: My husband doesn’t care much for your run-of-the-mill ice cream pint. His favorite flavor is mascarpone with wild berries gelato. He also loves Affogato. Naturally.

Ethan: Lilac loves most flavors, especially anything with dark chocolate. But even more than ice cream, she loves--

Lilac: Fro-yo

Ethan: -- frozen yogurt. Plain tart with strawberries, blueberries, and granola.

4. What is a funny habit of your partner that you secretly like?

Ethan: I love the scented candles she’s so fond of having around the house.

Lilac: I knew it! My favorite funny habit of his is when he tucks Jenner in at night. He pretends that dog isn’t our fur baby, but Ethan plays the perfect father every day.

Ethan: He’s a pet, Lilac, not a child.

Lilac: He’s a baby and the being you professed to love most in the world.

Ethan: *holding her gaze* Not anymore.

5. Have you ever done something only and only to annoy your partner?

Lilac: Yes! I asked him to take me to Rome for our honeymoon only so I could order an Espresso Romano.

Ethan: Exactly what I asked you not to do.

Lilac: You mean what you were rambling about during our first date? Because I’m counting that.

Ethan: Fine. I was far too distracted by the beautiful doctor in front of me. It just slipped out. I never imagined I’d be marrying you one day and taking you on a honeymoon to Rome.

Lilac: But I bet if you knew that much then, you wouldn’t have minded.

Ethan: No, I wouldn’t have.

6. How does your partner react when they are jealous?

Lilac: He clenches that magnificent jaw of his and speaks in growls.

Ethan: *shaking his head* She stays really quiet and I can practically see the gears turning in her head. Then, minutes later, she’ll start asking me “causal” questions about the person she’s jealous of.

Lilac: I have to gather as much intel as possible about this rival of mine.

Ethan: *lifting her hand to kiss her knuckles* There’s no such rivalry, love. No one will ever capture my attention like you have.

For Lilac:

1. If you had to say I love you to Ethan without actually saying the words, how would you do it?

Lilac: I would hold his gaze as I press my body close to his, raising myself on my tip toes to press a single kiss on his cheek. I’d trace the pad of my thumb along his cheekbone, my other hand at his chest. I do it everyday... Everyday since the attack, when we couldn’t touch each other without plastic in the way. It’s my quiet way of telling him how much I love him and how I’m not going anywhere.

2. What is something that would make Ethan blush immediately?

Lilac: *laughs* It’s so easy to make him blush for someone so stoic. A sure way is to lean in and whisper anything romantic in his ear. It can be anything really and he’ll turn beet red. It’s so endearing. He will get this little surprised look on his face, as though he can’t believe what’s happening.

Ethan: That’s because I can’t. I am unable to believe my luck that the most beautiful woman on Earth loves me as much as I love her.

*Lilac blushes. Ethan looks satisfied and completely in awe of her.*

3. If you were given an option to choose between writing a letter to Ethan once every month or writing him small notes everyday, which one would you choose?

Lilac: The notes, for sure! In fact, I already write him those almost every morning and ever evening. He even bought a magnetic whiteboard for the refrigerator for me to write those. He insists on taking a picture of them before we erase them.

4. What is the sweetest gift he has ever given you?

Lilac: He flew my whole family from LA, including my grandma, to celebrate my last birthday in Cape Cod. It was the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.

5. If you had to assign your relationship a fanfiction trope, which one would you choose?

Ethan: What the hell is fanfiction?

Lilac: It’s exactly what it sounds like, babe. It’s pieces of fiction written about fans of a work. For example, people who love Harry Potter will then go and write their own works with these characters.

Ethan: People do that?

Lilac: Hey, don’t knock it! Some people are so talented and put out excellent works. I used to read HP fanfiction when I was in high school and undergrad.

Ethan: I’m not judging at all. On the contrary, I’m surprised people do this for free. I admire the dedication.

Lilac: Our trope would absolutely be slow burn.

Ethan: ...?

Lilac: It means it took us entirely too long to end up together.

Ethan: Ah. In that case, I agree.

For Ethan:

1. What is something that you started doing after getting into a relationship with Lilac?

Ethan: Homemade salsa. My wife is very particular about it and will eat most meals with it. She will not accept anything less than homemade and I love her for it.

2. If you could pick any three places to take her on a date, which ones would you choose? (They can anywhere around the world)

Ethan: She doesn’t know this but, I am taking her to France for the final part of our honeymoon. Our schedules didn’t allow for the extended honeymoon we both wanted, so we split it up into parts. She still thinks it was only two parts, Rome and the Mayan Riviera, but I’m taking her to France next month. She’s always wanted to go to Paris, the countryside, and the French Riviera.

3. You have been asked to put together a care package for Lilac. What things do you put in it?

Ethan: She told me about the candy her grandmother used to bring her from Mexico. Those would go in there. I’d add essential oils, since she’s fond of those. I’d add her favorite scented lotions and those fuzzy socks she collects.

4. Which hobbies/interests of Lilac do you find weird?

Ethan: I don’t understand her complicated orders for iced coffee when we go to a coffeeshop. She will give the poor barista a long list of flavors she wants, describe in number of “pumps”. It’s iced coffee! There’s no amount of flavoring that could salvage that atrocity.

5. If you had to put together a bouquet for Lilac using any two flowers, which ones would you choose?

Ethan: *smiles briefly* I would consider lilacs to tease her. She pretends to hate them because they’re her namesake and people have always assumed she likes them solely for that reason. Now, she likes them because she knows I am fond of them. They remind me of her for obvious reasons but also because they are the earliest flowers to bloom in Spring. They represent renewal, hope for something better to come, and first love. I found all of those things in Lilac.

But since this bouquet is for her, I would use peonies and sunflowers since they are her favorites. Maybe jasmines since it’s her favorite scent.

#ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #Ethan x Lilac #Lilac Allende #Long post #newlyweds game with your host bree

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imagineclaireandjamie · 5 years ago

Note

Imagine Willie (not the jackass we see in the books) calling Jamie “Da” and Claire overhearing it

Homecoming - Part Thirteen

Book 9 speculation; William arrives at the Ridge with his cousin Dottie the same day that the MacKenzie family has made their unexpected return.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve

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

Claire finished the row and spread the stitches on the needle to gauge her progress. They were looser than they should be and something didn’t look right…

She cursed quietly to herself and threw the knitting to the floor. She had dropped a stitch and it had run. Her options were to try and fix it by going up the column of dropped stitches or to pull it all out and start fresh. Given that it had only reached about three inches in length, it would probably be easier to start the scarf over from scratch. With a frustrated sigh, she leaned down from her chair to retrieve the tangled mess of wool.

The door creaked open and Claire peered around to see Jamie entering their bedroom as quietly as he could.

“I thought ye’d be asleep by now, Sassenach,” he whispered, bending to kiss the top of her head and eaming the knitting in her lap. “What have ye done to it?” he asked, sympathy and amusement evident in his tone and smile.

“I think you can see what I did without my telling you,” she snipped at him. Taking the balled yarn in one hand, she began wrapping the loose end around and around, watching the sloppy stitches of her work slip out of each other’s grasp. Reversing the process was far faster than creating it in the first place. She would set it aside for now and begin afresh in the morning when her mind — and fingers — were rested and flexible.

“I still cannae believe Bree told him we exchange gifts at Christmas,” Jamie murmured, shaking his head and crouching by the hearth to put another log on the fire.

“The children have come to expect it having been in the 20th century for so long,” Claire reminded him. “Mandy never spent a Christmas here on the Ridge so she truly doesn’t know anything else.”

“Aye, but ye could make William somethin’ else. There’s plenty ye could concoct in yer surgery that he’d appreciate. He’ll no be used to such a hard winter as he’ll see here on the Ridge. A balm or something for when his hands and nose are chapped wi’ cold.”

“And what are you making him?” Claire turned the tables as a challenge. “Don’t think I don’t see you whittling away at a new chess set. There’s only the two of you and Ian that play and you already have a perfectly fine set. I’m making him a scarf and I’m knitting it both because I need the practice and because he’ll know and appreciate the effort that went into it.”

“Do ye no worry that he’ll be put in an awkward spot wi’ our gifts to him?” Claire could hear the doubt in Jamie’s voice. “I ken Bree gave him warning but I cannae think he’ll have luck wi’ making ready gifts for the rest of us. I… I wouldna want him to feel he had to do something in turn.”

“I think he knows by now that we don’t keep score with such things,” Claire asserted. “And we don’t have to put him on the spot when the children are given their gifts. We’ll find a time that’s right.”

Looking resigned more than confident, Jamie nodded and pushed himself to his feet. He bent and twisted a moment before the fire, the popping of his joints mingling with the crackling of the burning logs.

“Come to bed, Sassenach?” he requested, reaching a hand out to help Claire from her seat.

She took it, yawning as she stood. Jamie tucked her against his chest for a moment, letting his chin rest atop her head. She felt the tension leaving him — and leaving her as well. The worries and uncertainties of the day dissolved in the night as they went to bed and found reassurance and comfort in each other.

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

Christmas morning arrived and, as Claire had warned Jamie, Mandy and Jem were in an excited frenzy with Germain catching some of the excitement. It was just the Mackenzies and William at the big house with Claire, Jamie, and Germain. Fanny had gone to stay with the Murrays to serve as an extra set of hands about the kitchen or with the babies. For most of the folks on the Ridge, Christmas was treated as just another day.

Brianna and Roger insisted the children help with breakfast and the chores before there would be even a discussion of gifts. William watched just behind where Claire stood as the three small bodies dashed about without complaint but with Roger reminding them that if they went too quickly and mucked things up, they’d find themselves doing everything twice.

“I don’t know as I’ve ever seen them in such a state,” William remarked quietly to Claire as he helped her tidy the kitchen. “Is Christmas really treated so differently in Scotland?”

“Not exactly. It’s more to do with how Bree was raised. She enjoyed celebrating the day that way and it’s something she’s carried on with her children,” Claire explained carefully.

“Family tradition, then. Though I understand from Roger that marking the new year is a wider celebration and that more of the people here on the Ridge participate…?”

“Hogmanay,” Claire smiled wider. “Yes, that’s more what you’d expect the Scots hereabouts to celebrate. We’ll be having a larger party here for that. Christmas is a smaller, practice run, I suppose,” she chuckled.

“But there are no gifts for… Hogmanay?” he hesitated, pronouncing it carefully.

“Nope, no gifts. Just a lot of wonderful company, music, and dancing. Food, of course, and whisky.”

The growing noise outside indicated the children were returning from their chores and would not be deterred much longer, and not without voicing their discontent.

Claire ushered William from the kitchen and into the main room where Roger, Brianna and Jamie had fetched the gifts from hidden places and stood guard waiting for good behavior and everyone’s presence before beginning to distribute them.

William quietly excused himself and hurried up the stairs for a moment, leaving Claire, Jamie, Brianna, and Roger exchanging silent questions back and forth about whether or not they should wait for him to begin. Before the wordless conversation was completed, William’s footsteps could be heard descending the stairs once more.

Mandy scurried to his side before he managed to find himself a seat.

“I want yers first, Uncle William,” she declared loudly. “Please?”

William looked to Brianna and Roger who nodded. He brought his sackcloth bag from behind his back and retrieved a child-sized cloak that had been lined with fur.

Mandy’s eyes went wide and her mouth formed an O. She bounced with excitement as she reached out to let William help her try it on.

“It’s sae warm,” she purred. “No wonder we’ve had sae much rabbit stew!”

The adults all laughed.

“Your mother helped with the sewing,” William explained with a grateful nod to Brianna. He reached in to his bag again and pulled out matching knives for Jem and Germain. They were only short blades made by the local blacksmith, and would primarily serve for chores as well as hunting and trapping. But the boys were eager to head outside to practice throwing them at the side of the barn.

“Uncle Ian kens how to throw knives,” Jem exclaimed. “He’ll teach us how!”

“Ye’re all stayin’ put till we’re through here and ye’re no goin’ to be disturbin’ Uncle Ian wi’ demands he teach ye anything,” Roger warned. “Ye’ll ask politely and ye’ll offer him help so he’s no losin’ more time than he can afford, aye?”

Jem and Germain promised then looked to see what other gifts were waiting for them (which turned out to mostly be practical and necessary items like new and warmer clothes, securing the knives’ place as their favorite gift of the day). Mandy bounced around the room in her new cloak, brushing the soft rabbit’s fur against her cheek.

William ducked his head to hide the prideful smile the sight brought to him.

Claire slipped along the outer edge of the room till she came up beside him.

“You’re a hit,” she told him quietly, her eyes still on her grandchildren.

“I’m glad there was something I could give. It’s a nice tradition to mark the day and the children certainly enjoy it,” William remarked.

“I’ve a little something for you as well,” Claire said, offering him the neatly folded scarf. It wasn’t as precise as she would have liked, but it was long and above all, warm. “Jamie can tell you, I’m not the best knitter, but if you’re going to be here through the winter, you’ll need some warmer things.”

“Thank you, Mother Claire.” William grinned and then leaned over to kiss her cheek.

“Jamie has something he’s been working on for you as well,” she told him, “but I think he’ll give it to you later, when the children have gone to bed.”

William’s cheeks darkened. “I don’t have anything to actually give either of you,” William explained, self-conscious.

“You don’t have to—”

“No, there is something I want to do for you… that is… From what Brianna and Roger have told me about Hogmanay, there’s a… a role or service I might perform—what did she call it… Frost foot?”

“First foot,” Claire said. “And I think she’s right. You would be a good fit for it. I know it would mean a lot to Jamie.” She spotted him nestled in the doorway to the kitchen and nudged William gently in that direction. “He can explain it better than I can and the children are distracted.”

“Thank you, Mother Claire.” William slipped away from her side and into the kitchen, Jamie following a moment later.

Claire began inching her way closer to the doorway as soon as they disappeared, stopping as soon as she was close enough to hear what they were saying.

“Claire can go wi’ ye if ye’re certain ye dinna mind,” Jamie said as he finished explaining the responsibilities to William.

“I don’t. Since I’m to stay her through the winter, it will be a good way to introduce myself to more of the local residents,” William mused. “And I wanted to thank you… for making me feel welcome here and… allowing me to stay–”

“Ye’ll always have a place here,” Jamie interrupted. “Whether ye want it or no, it’s here for ye.”

“Thank you… Da.”

Claire pressed her lips into a tight line to keep the tears that sprang to her eyes from sliding free. It was a good thing she couldn’t see Jamie or William just then because it would have undone her completely.

She waited until she heard Jamie’s steps leave the kitchen before she made her way around to the front of the house and slipped out the door.

She found Jamie standing in the side yard, staring out across the clearing.

It was cloudy but didn’t smell like there would be more snow just yet. The little bit of light was magnified as it reflected off the snow. Paths had been cut through the otherwise pristine scene. Dirty trails to and from the barn and other outbuildings, the shortest distance possible to keep the time in the frigid air to a minimum.

Claire hurried to Jamie’s side and nestled against him, pulling her shawl tighter and wishing she’d grabbed a cloak on her way out. Jamie opened his coat to her and drew her close, sniffing to control his tears and runny nose so he wouldn’t drip on her.

“I heard,” she whispered, reaching up to wipe away the wetness before it could freeze in place.

Jamie just nodded and rested his forehead against her crown, sharing his happiness with her.

#only an epilogue left to this one #Anonymous #;mod lenny #homecoming au #featuring: william #featuring: brianna #featuring: roger #featuring: mandy #featuring: jem #book 9

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ladywynneoutlander · 5 years ago

Text

Heart’s Abundance

Part 5 - Joyeux Noël

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 6

Jamie sighs in satisfaction, and I know he is savoring the soft warm weight of the granddaughter he feared he’d never see again. Mandy lies in peaceful slumber, her cheeks pinked by the nearby fire, her dark baby-fine curls framing her chubby face. Even after months I can hardly believe she’s here, healthy and safe, her heart problem a thing of the past. She will grow strong and free in the mountains. Thank God.

It has been a blessed day, Christmas Eve, and it’s very late. William, Fanny, and Germain have already retired to their rooms. Jem is asleep on the hearth rug. He will have to be moved later, but for now everyone is too content. The room is warm and glowing. It smells of wood fire, beeswax candles, and the sharp resinous pine of Brianna and Roger’s Christmas tree. I smile at the memory of their bringing it in. Jamie had watched curiously, but he hadn’t protested. I suppose he’s used to our strange ways, and after all, there is no harm in it. Jamie had spent an unusual amount of the day indoors, making various excuses. I think he enjoyed watching Brianna and I stringing popcorn, the children making ornaments.

Now Roger is sitting with Brianna’s head leaning against his shoulder and his hand on her knee. They are speaking quietly together, the soft language of a married couple who are as comfortable with one another as with themselves. When they returned to the Ridge Roger said the future is no longer safe for them. I pray that they may be safe here, remote enough to be spared the worst horrors of war.

I move to Jamie‘s side and smile softly at Mandy, bending to kiss the little girl’s black curls. Then I raise my head and find Jamie’s lips, giving him a gentle kiss as well.

“Sit wi’ me, Sassenach.” He draws me down with his left hand, still cradling Mandy in his right.

I settle next to him and sigh contentedly, looking at Brianna and Roger. “Bree always loved Christmas.”

“Aye?” he says, interested. “And what did she like best then?”

“The lights,” I answer without hesitation. “In our time we have small lights on strings. They glow without flames. Remember I told you about electricity?”

He nods, frowning slightly at the memory of the wondrous, dangerous energy I had described.

“These lights work on electricity,” I go on. “They shine like the tree is covered in lightning bugs of every color. Brianna was enchanted as a girl. She wanted them everywhere; strung around the windows and over the mantel. Then she would sleep in the parlor by the tree.”

He glances at our own tree. Roger had fashioned a star for the top out of twigs. It’s a small merry thing, but nothing sparkles from the fresh springy boughs. “Do ye think she misses it Sassenach?”

I look from him to Brianna. My daughter reaches up and smooths a dark strand of Roger’s hair from his face. They are absorbed in one another. “No,” I say softly. “Her loves are here.”

As if called by my gaze Brianna rises and comes over, bending to gather Mandy in her arms. “We’d better put the kids to bed. Santa might be here anytime.” Though not the norm in this time, four small stockings hang by the fire, another oddity Jamie absorbed today.

“Aye,” Roger says, coming up behind Brianna with Jem in his arms. “Off to bed with the weans.”

Brianna kisses our cheeks, bending awkwardly over Mandy to reach us. “Merry Christmas Da, Mama.”

“Happy Christmas darling,” I return as she follows Roger upstairs.

-o0OOO0o-

The thump of little feet on the stairs shakes the whole house and I groan into my pillow. In turn Jamie chuckles, rolling over to throw his arm across my back. “Happy Christmas, Sassenach.” I groan again but crack open my eyes. The sunlight is thin through cracks of the shutters. It’s still quite early. I blink and close my eyes again.

Jamie peeks over my shoulder. “Now, none ‘o that.”

He kisses the back of my neck and gently rolls me over. He is smiling sweetly down at me with his hair in morning disarray about his head, and I can’t help but smile back. “Happy Christmas to you too.”

He leans down and kisses me, and I feel the soft stubble of his unshaven cheek. Then he pulls back and grins. “Let’s go see what Santa’s brought, aye?”

He fairly bounces out of bed and I laugh, rising more slowly. “You know he only visits children?”

Jamie is enthusiastically pulling on his stockings. He peers up through strands of russet and copper, “Aye, I know! But I want to see how Brianna does Christmas. I dinna want to miss anything.”

I yawn once more, and smiling, throw a shawl around my shoulders, “Me either. Off we go then.”

-o0OOO0o-

The children enjoy their stockings immensely. They are filled with peppermint candy, a top, and clay marbles. Jamie watches them quietly, a smile on his face.

In the afternoon, it’s time for presents. As I work on the enthusiastic knots Jem added to his gift, my attention is drawn by Fanny. She shyly rises from her stool and approaches William. He glances up with a smile. “Hullo Fanny. Happy Christmas.”

“Hello,” she smiles tentatively back, “I– I made you a present.”

“Well, I thank you,” He pats the spot next to him. “Sit here by me.”

She does so and hands him a folded square. He unfolds it to reveal an embroidered handkerchief, a corner cleverly decorated with swimming fish and golden rings, a nod to his seal.

“Why, it’s beautiful,” he says sincerely, and Fanny flushes with pleasure. “I have something for you as well.” William carefully refolds the handkerchief then hands her a small parcel, wrapped in a scrap of muslin I’d given him for the purpose, and tied with twine.

Fanny takes the gift, eyes shining. “Th– thank you.” She pulls on the string and reveals a fragrant wooden box, polished but unvarnished, the top carved with the letters FP and a tiny flower in each corner. The lid is perfectly made to snugly fit the bottom. The entire room is quiet, now as riveted by the scene as I am.

“Isth beautiful,” Fanny breathes, forgetting to enunciate in her happiness.

“Open it.”

She does so, and her eyes fill with tears. “Is this?” She swallows. “Was this Jane’s?” Fanny reaches into the box and delicately withdraws a lock of hair, secured with a tiny ribbon tied in a bow. She sets the box aside, and strokes the soft brown strands gently.

“Yes, I took it when…when I last saw her. I thought you might like to have it.” William answers softly.

Fanny closes her hand over the bundle, and her eyes as well. “Thank you, William.”

He reaches out and puts a hand on her arm. Fanny opens her eyes and I see a light spring into them, and a tenderness, even in the midst of her grief. I remember everything she has seen, and realize that in some ways, Fanny is mature beyond her years. I reluctantly prepare to intervene. It’s obvious, at least to me, how the girl misconstrued the gift and the gesture. Just as I begin to rise William says, “Frances, you must know how dear Jane was to me, even in the short time I knew her. You are dear to me as well.” He smiles. “Why, I think of you as a little sister.”

Fanny jerks a little at that and pulls her arm from under William’s hand. She takes a deep, ragged breath. “A sister? That’s how you see me?”

William blinks, unsure what to make of her reaction. “Well, yes. I hope that is all right?” He gives her a concerned look. “I did not mean to offer offense.”

Fanny stands abruptly, replacing the lock of hair and closing the box carefully. “Of course, I thank you again for the gift and … and for your kind regard.” She backs up a step, turns, and flees upstairs, moving with speed but not running. Poor girl.

William looks from face to face helplessly. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No dear,” I sigh and rise. “Don’t worry. I’ll see to her.”

-o0OOO0o-

Fanny is a brave, practical girl, and she is back with us shortly. I spoke with her upstairs, and I know I will probably need to again, but for now she is all right.

The rest of the day passes most pleasantly. The snow comes down in soft white flakes outside the window and the fire crackles happily. We sing carols and enjoy our gifts, playing chess and tic-tac-toe and marbles.

In the evening Brianna recites A Christmas Carol, with the various ghosts enacted by the children (to the detriment of the linens). I listen with Jamie’s arm around me, laughing occasionally, and feeling blessed. We are sitting half in the shadows, and I have a quilt pulled over my lap against the chill. I feel Jamie shift and there is the crinkle of paper in my lap. I look down to see one last gift. “For you, Sassenach.”

I look up at him in surprise, smiling, “Whenever did you have the time?”

“Oh, I may have had this put away for some little time. I wanted to give it to ye at the right moment, aye?”

I look at the gift again, curiosity peaked. I heft it in my hand. “Well, it isn’t a new kettle.”

He smiles but doesn’t say anything as I pull back waxed paper, then to my surprise, dark green velvet. Nestled inside is a set of stunning tortoiseshell hair ornaments. Each is adorned with a dragonfly, made of gold, the eyes glimmering rounds of amber. I am awestruck. “Jamie. They’re gorgeous. Simply lovely. But, they’re so expensive…”

He stops me with a gentle kiss. “Dinna fash. I managed is all.” He strokes one with a large finger and looks up at me shyly. “I saw them and knew they were meant for ye. They mind me of Hugh Munroe’s wedding gift, and the amber does look just like your eyes.”

Said eyes were blinking back tears at the moment. “They’re beautiful. Truly.”

“Ye’re beautiful, Claire. Ye deserve them, and so much more.” He leans down for a true kiss then, tilting my chin up to meet him, his mouth soft and warm. When we part he stays close to me, his eyes tender and guileless.

I lay my hand against his cheek. “We’re not Hugh’s dragonfly any longer, Jamie. We’re not trapped, not by time nor circumstance. We’re flying quickly, so quickly now.”

“Aye.” He touches my cheek in return, outlining my bones with a calloused finger, and smiles gently, “But we’re doing it together, however long or brief the journey. This time, there’s the two of us.” He closes the inch between us once more, kissing me. Then he twists a strand of my hair up and back. I can see the various colors from the corner of my eye, the light brown, gray, and blonde. Jamie secures it with a dragonfly and does the same on the other side.

“Merry Christmas, bonny lass.”

“Merry Christmas, love.”

#heart's abundance #outlander #christmas #jamie and claire #Claire Fraser #Jamie Fraser #mandy mackenzie #william ransom #fanny pocock

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purpleheatherdream · 5 years ago

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A Happy Halloween Outlander Fan-Fiction Reading List

Trick or Treat! Here’s a Halloween reading list for your enjoyment!

Witches

Draco (chapter 12 of the Constellations Series) by @kalendraashtar

“Witches all to burn at the stake.”

The Evanora @bonniebird17

The full moon hung over me, giving me the strength to keep me going and I was heading east, leading the witch hunter further away from my home and my sisters.

Part 1

Part 2

An Leabhar Dìlseachd by @thetranquilteal

Claire Fraser had always known she was a witch. Her affinity for healing hinted at it and her ability to time travel confirmed it. What she didn’t know was that she would come into her full power the day she became a mother. Concerned with how her pregnancy is progressing, she's seeks the help of apothecary Master Raymond in the hope that he will be able to teach her how to utilise her newfound power and protect her family from disaster. A canon-divergent AU told through the pages of the Fraser Grimoire ‘The Book of Faith’.

Bewitched by @julesbeauchamp

Jamie and Claire Fraser are like any other young married couple, except for some tiny detail: he's a mortal human being and she's a witch, something which she does not divulge to him until after their wedding.

Jamie just wants them to live a simple, mortal life, to which Claire agrees, meaning no witchcraft and no telling any of their mortal friends and relatives of her being a witch. However, that no witchcraft vow is more difficult to maintain than Claire had expected.

Brujerìa by @julesbeauchamp

Being a witch was a detail Claire Beauchamp omitted to tell people. She was determined to live her life as normally as possible and she was doing a pretty good job of it. At least until her meeting with a stranger sent her life into a spiral and revealed secrets about her past she never suspected.

The Witch and the Red Man by @lady-o-ren

He was a man meant for a life of loneliness but was relentlessly hunted for the darkness lurking within.

To Kill a Witch by @owlish-peacock36

Jamie doesn’t know much about women. Even less about the strange Miss Beauchamp. Outlander AU. One-shot.

Three Witches by @westerhos

An AU where Claire, Jenny, and Geillis are three modern-day witches. A big ole house, a "No Men Allowed Policy", rituals in the woods - the usual witchy norm. When Jamie shows up, things go to hell in a hand basket.

Three Witches Stories by @westerhos

Little ficlets set in the Three Witches universe, where Claire, Jenny, and Geillis are modern day witch friends with hilarious love lives.

The Thief, the Whore, the Witch, and the Strange Woman by @westerhos

An Outlander AU in which a 22 year old Claire Beauchamp Randall travels back in time on August 1st (Lughnasadh), 1941/1739. Ellen and Brian Fraser, both alive, offer her shelter in exchange for help in aiding Ellen's recovery. The growing attraction between Claire and Jamie leaves Claire torn, while suspicions arise regarding her past...Soon, it becomes clear that the Frasers know more than they let on.

The White Witch's Gift by @sapphiresassenach

A Christmas gift is given to Jamie and Claire during their twenty-year separation. The gift of each other.

I am a Witch by wongirl

What if after the witch trial when Jamie asks Claire if she is a witch she says yes?

P.S. Don't take it too seriously it's just a bit of fun

This is a Harry Potter/Outlander crossover story.

Witches by @whiskynottea at @otheroutlandertales

1739 -Fort William has a new garrison commander - one who is decided to break the Scots’ spirit. Will Jenny and Claire be able to save the tenants of Lallybroch with their magical powers, while staying safe?

Red Jamie and the White Lady by @takemeawaytocamelot

Claire Beauchamp is dragged by her best friend and flatmate, Geillis Duncan, to go visit a powerful psychic to prove once and for all that true love exists. Claire is a practical woman and finds the idea of true love pointless. Jamie Fraser is a powerful psychic who can glimpse the future. When he meets Claire, something changes. Like they were destined to find each other.

Legend of the Faerie Wife by DiverseMediums

A legend from the written history of Clan Fraser.

While this is a stand alone story, it is intended to be a companion piece for takemeawayocamelot's Red Jamie and the White Lady. There are no spoilers, but it adds a bit of depth to the brilliance she's creating over there :)

The White Witch by BlackStarNYC

The Scottish matriarchal family—known as the "Thomson Witches"—have a long and forlorn history... As the youngest of the clan, Claire’s life turns to chaos at a young age due to the power she has inherited. Pulled into the 18th century, she becomes bound by love that is threatened to be torn apart by castle intrigue, a 100 year old clan feud, war and a man possessed by a spirit that has haunted her family for centuries.... what could go wrong?

This Life by @calliopemoonbeam

Claire is a healer from a very young age. She trains in the mystical arts around the world, as well as the traditional medical field. She finds herself in London as a surgical resident in the late 1980s and early 90s. She starts having dreams of a past life. Where will they lead her?

Philomene by @ianmuyrray

Jenny -- thought dead by the rest of the world -- has lived in quiet exile since her king brother betrayed their family by allying with Black Jack Randall, who is on a mission to weed out any and all women who possess magic. Execution now waits for any woman who shows herself to know and use magical powers, or any woman merely suspected of being magical - no matter her rank, her family, her influence, her children, or her own desire to live.

Jenny was supposed to be the first in the rising storm of murdered women, but, by some miracle, she survived. And has lived in hiding. But now she has been found.

Vampires

Exsanguinate by @owlish-peacock36

Exsanguinate: to drain of blood

No one ever asked for his name anymore. They gave him a wide berth, avoiding him at all costs. Whispers of rumors filled his ears, closer to the truth than they realized.

Monster. Incubus. Strigoi. Upyr.

No. His name was Jamie.

Step Into the Night by LadyRevolution

An Outlander AU where Claire didn't fall through the stones, she was on the run from the vampire coven that has been trying to enlist her for centuries. In her reprieve at Castle Leoch, it has been a challenge to both hide her vampirism and stay away from Jamie. He smells good, too good, and for a thousand year old vampire with steel control, that's worrying.

"Ye need blood, Claire, I can tell ye do," Jamie whispered, backing her into a wall, a hand on either side of her head. Breathing heavily, he leaned forward and exposed his neck, "so take it from me." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the moment Claire gave into her desires, her almost black eyes zeroing in on his neck.

Scottish Vampire in Boston by sunshineduckies

After Culloden, Jamie is turned by a vampire with a political agenda. Now he must find his way through his new life without Claire and his new burden, vampirism.

Post-Apocalyptic

Scalamandre by @futurelounging

An outbreak of a contagion causing violent psychoses across the globe sends the world into chaos and destruction. A scientist and a mountaineer meet in the wilds and join together to try to stop the men behind the madness.

Dawning in Dust by DiverseMediums

The Last War has ended. Civilization is no more. For Claire, solitary wandering is the only way of survival. What if it didn't have to be?

Ghosts

But I love you until the end of time. by @maybeimdoingsomethingright

With her husband constantly away not long after their marriage, Claire lives mostly alone in their house at the Scottish Highlands. However, she is not exactly alone and there is quite more to this house and her future -or is it her past?- than meets the eye.

Endless-loop theory and ghost!Jamie with a wee spin.

Reaching Through the Veil by @westerhos

Prompt: Imagine that Jamie somehow travels to Claire's time when Bree is still a baby and drops in on Claire randomly like she does in Voyager.

The Far and Distant Places by @westerhos

After fighting with Frank, Claire goes to a nearby church for a moment of peace. On her way home, she runs into a certain red-haired Scotsman...

The Haunting at Mrs. Baird's by @frasersridgeforever

The kindly hostess of a bed and breakfast notices some ghostly activity in her establishment, as the culprit sees his wife for the first and last time. A Halloween tale of Mrs. Baird and Jamie’s ghost as the Randalls arrive in Inverness for their second honeymoon.

Through the Magic Lantern by dielle

He didn't know how it worked, how he could float across the flow of the time and be there. - Ghost!Jamie, as seen in the first episode.

Purgatory by suspiciousteapot

Anonymous asked: what if because Claire's in the future Jamie as a ghost got to see her grow up or see bits and pieces of her life

Ghosts in the Daylight by @owlish-peacock36

"It's easier to dismiss ghosts in the daylight..." All Jamie wanted was quiet loneliness to work on his novel. But, are we ever truly alone? Ghost AU

Through the Door by @ianmuyrray

Proper Highland protocol held that the door must be opened at once after a death, to allow the soul to leave. - An Echo in the Bone, Chapter 2, "And Sometimes They Aren't"

Ghost!Jamie AU by Mod Eloise @imagineclaireandjamie

Story 1

Story 2

Other Magical/Fantastical/Horror Stories

Scotia by @kalendraashtar

An AU based in Myths and Legends. Written for the Tumblr 2017 Secret Santa challenge.

There Is More Beneath The Surface (Than We Can See) by @maybeimdoingsomethingright

When she was young, Claire saved a boy from drowning. Meeting again eleven years later, their worlds are forever changed. (Mermaid)

Thrush by @ianmuyrray

Roger goes sailing to meet mermaid Bree. (Mermaid)

A Fairy's Stone by @sapphiresassenach

Prompt: I was thinking if you could come up with a fanfic where what if Claire actually was Fae and revealed it to Jamie but stated that since she was bound to Jamie because they were soul mates and whatnot and thus she became fairly human when the deal was sealed and whatnot. If you get inspired maybe by this it would be cool to see what you come up with. (Fairy)

An Infinite Variety by orphan_account

Challenge on Infinite Earths, Outlander style

The Shape We Take by @westerhos

An AU inspired by Black Mirror's slightly dystopian "Hang the DJ," in which a dating app pairs you up until it finds your perfect match.

Just Happen During Halloween

A Costume Party by @sassenachpetals

Jamie and Claire ring in the Halloween holiday by attending a costume party. Claire has surprised Jamie with their couple costume idea and it's one that they'll never forget: Gomez and Morticia Addams…

Across The Hall by @thetranquilteal

Growing up in Scotland, one of Jamie Fraser’s all time favourite things to do was carve turnips on All Hallows Eve. Having recently relocated to the United States of America, Jamie assumes carving pumpkins on Halloween is no different and finds himself in a situation that he never expected.

The Doctor’s Companion by @theministerskat

After coming back through the stones, Roger and Bree get ready for a Halloween party.

Back To You Ficlet - Halloween by @balfeheughlywed

Set in the Back To You world, Jamie and Claire spend their first Halloween together at a costume party; smut ensues.

Halloween At the Ridge by @abbydebeaupreposts

Four Part Halloween Fluff set after MOBY imagining what traditions Jem and Mandy bring with them to Fraser’s Ridge

Halloween Through the Years by @takemeawaytocamelot

Claire and Jamie participate in a costume contest every Halloween.

Year One

Year Two

Year Three

Year Four

Year Six

Halloween, 1955 by @westerhos

Prompt: After [episode 305] with the making the 'batsuit' scene you should totally do a story about the first time Claire made some sort of costume for Bree.

****If an author whose work is listed is actually on Tumblr but is not tagged, please let me know.

#outlander #outlander fanfiction #halloween #fic rec list

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drrrsecretsanta2019 · 5 years ago

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Holiday Kiss, my secret santa gift for Bree

Tucked away in a dark spot between two kiosks, Shizuo checks the notes and coins in his hand trying to figure out how many rides they can get him into. He’s left most of the money his mother gave him earlier this afternoon with his little brother; it seemed only fair given that he had gone to the fair with the intention of abandoning him. Kasuka will be fine, he knows, and that reassuring thought keeps him from feeling too guilty about intentionally lagging behind until the rest of the company, composed of his little brother and their cousins, had lost him completely. The chances are they will only look for him when their time of departure approaches. Kasuka is bright enough to guess that his older brother has disappeared on purpose and their cousins are unlikely to lament the loss of his company, except perhaps when an opportunity to mock him comes up and he’s nowhere to be seen, depriving them of the vicious pleasure of watching him seethe, unable to do anything to vent his frustration. Despite him thinking that he is entirely incapable of self-control, Shizuo has proven to his mother on countless occasions that he can restrain himself in order to not embarrass her or hurt her feelings. She has never told her son, but she often wishes the world was more understanding, less cruel towards her sweet older boy who can be the most loving young man if given the opportunity but can just as easily explode in rage if faced with injustice. What she has told him is that people are often cruel by defense, to hide their insecurities, and that deep down everyone is flawed and scared, and he tries his best to always remember it.

He’s still struggling with the simple maths of how many rides the amount in his possession translates into when he catches a voice that has adrenaline coursing through his veins and drowning away any hints of coherency. He snaps his head to the direction of said voice, already seeing red, but stumbles upon confusion as he’s faced with a rather unexpected image and it’s only then that he registers the words he’s hearing.

“Now, you will both stay close – no running away on a whim, Mairu! If you’re not holding my hand, I want you to be maximum two steps ahead of me.”

“Izaya-kun?”

This is perhaps the calmest he has ever sounded with that name on his tongue. Izaya must recognize his voice just as easily, because he freezes immediately, going completely still for a moment as he’s hunched over. Then he whips around to face Shizuo while simultaneously stretching his hands out a bit on his sides, as if to protect the small figures behind him from the beast before them.

“Sh-shizu-chan?” he stutters, his face a pale white devoid of any emotion other than apprehension. “I am here with my sisters” he adds quickly, clearly in an attempt to deter Shizuo from causing a scene and oblivious to the fact that Shizuo himself has no such intention.

“I can see that”, he says instead, a bright smile on his face as he sends a friendly nod to the two faces obscured be Izaya’s outstretched arms. “Hello” he adds as he ducks to get a better look. The girls peer at the stranger behind the barrier of their brother, gazes inquisitive and perceptive, one closed-off and the other mischievous. It’s the mischievous one who steps forward first, ignoring her brother’s attempt to keep her hidden by shifting his weight.

“Are you friends with Iza-nii?”

There’s a short pause, during which the other girl also steps forward, with a look on her face that reminds Shizuo a little of his brother, until he finally shrugs and replies lightly “we have some common friends”. It’s not a lie, but it’s not exactly the answer to the question posed either. But the girls seem content anyway, the one with mischief clear in her eyes nodding enthusiastically and greeting him with a joyful hi as the other one simply blinks.

“We’re here to kill a couple of hours. The fair is big enough to fit us both, so let’s just steer clear of each other and call it a ceasefire for New Year’s Eve.”

Izaya sounds composed, but the look on his face is too rigid to be anything but anxious. The similarity between the three siblings is uncanny. Shizuo knows from Shinra that Izaya’s sisters are identical twins, but he didn’t expect them to also look so much like their brother. Especially the one with braided long hair could be a spitting image of him when he was her age.

“That’s fine” he says, his eyes still on the tiny girls gazing up at him. “I’m also just killing some time.”

“On your own? Can’t you find even a single person to put up with you during the holidays?” Izaya scoffs, some of the customary hostility they share having returned to his posture. Shizuo chooses to ignore it and explains calmly that he’s lost his company and before he’s finished speaking he has two Orihara girls clinging to his legs.

“You can come with us!” the talkative one exclaims as her sister joins her in a chorus for the last two words.

“I’m sure he has better things to do”, Izaya provides, arms crossed in front of his chest, but Shizuo is fast to disprove him.

“I don’t, actually.” He watches Izaya’s eyes widen comically before turning to the little girls still clinging onto him. “I’d love to tag along, if your brother’s ok with that.” It’s cheap of him, he knows. Izaya would probably agree to jumping off the roof to save himself from his sisters’ wailing. But he’ll take what he can.

Unsurprisingly, Izaya is broody for the first several minutes of their joint wandering. The girls are overexcited with the unexpected addition of a new member to their company and with the variety of options around them, bouncing eagerly from one side to the other, arguing between themselves about which rides they should go to and what sweets they should buy from the kiosks, while Izaya follows them closely, sulking in a very uncharacteristic manner. Shizuo manages to extract the names of the girls from him – Mairu, the one with the braid, and Kururi, the quiet one – and their age – 6. Shizuo watches him from the corner of his eye, walking beside him with his shoulders tense and his jaw set, as if ready for a fight. He’s never been blind to Izaya’s good looks, but it’s always been easy to look past them and focus on his annoying antics instead. But out here, in the middle of a crowded fair, with Christmas lights casting golden and crimson hues along Izaya’s pale face, it’s hard to think of anything else. With Izaya on the defensive there are no biting comments, no sarcastic smirks, only a handsome boy walking next to him, quietly watching his sisters ahead of him. It’s endearing really.

“Your sisters are fun.” Izaya tenses next to him, but keeps quiet. “I have never seen you with them before.”

“Do you spend your free time stalking me, Shizu-chan?”

Deep down everyone is flawed and scared, he repeats his mother’s words to himself and chuckles. “I just mean that I could never picture you this way. I have a little brother myself-”

“I know”, Izaya cuts him off with cold indifference, as if this brief exchange has managed to bore him already. “How come he’s not tailing you? Does your mother not force you to take him along with you everywhere?”

It sounds like a typical, if somewhat petty, older brother complaint and Shizuo finds himself feeling amused. “He’s somewhere around here with our cousins.”

When Izaya turns to look straight at him, Shizuo feels as if the world has momentarily stopped turning. His eyes look unnaturally bright as they reflect the neon signs around them and the way he stares openly at Shizuo’s face, it’s as if he’s reaching into his mind and caressing every thought of his. “Not a very good company, I guess?” He’s shrugging before Shizuo has had the chance to offer a reply, turning away to follow his sisters to one of the kiosks selling soft ice, scoffing family is overrated over his shoulder and the moment Shizuo thinks they shared is gone just like that.

Between arguing about which rides are best suited for the twins’ age and munching on jelly beans and soft ice and chocolate bars and pretty much anything sugar-loaded available, they end up not going to that many rides after all. They agree on the least exciting-looking roller coaster, one that is clearly destined for the younger ages, and Mairu is practically furious about said choice, as if this specific roller coaster constitutes a personal insult for her. But it’s the only one her brother will allow her on and she’s been bugging them about getting on a roller coaster since the moment they arrived, so she gives in eventually. Shizuo sits with Kururi behind Izaya who is vainly trying to restrain Mairu next to him. It’s not that bad, after all. Kururi has a wide grin on her face throughout the ride while Mairu squeals incessantly, throwing her arms in the air and howling like a wolf, but it’s Izaya’s crystalline laughter that echoes in Shizuo’s ears even after they’ve climbed out of their seats and moved on to buy tickets to the Ferris wheel. Mairu climbs in with Shizuo this time and gives him multiple heart attacks by swinging her legs non-stop, making their car rock precariously from side to side. They get the girls on the carousel afterwards, standing by next to each other and watching them ride on their fake horses with huge grins on their faces.

“You could have gotten on the more exciting rides on your own” Izaya says at some point, but there’s no mocking lilt in his voice, no malice, just a matter-of-fact statement. “You would have probably had more fun.”

“Nah. I’m having a good time as it is.”

The girls come running shortly after and they’re off to find the next ride to spend their money on, but Izaya’s gaze lingers on Shizuo as they move on.

As they’re passing by the shooting games, Mairu suddenly starts jumping up and down, her little arm extended in the air and pointing at something. “Iza-nii, I want THAT!” she’s shrieking within seconds, grabbing her brother’s pants and pulling him towards one of the games. There’s a metallic headband with deer ears and antlers hanging along with an assortment of plushies and hats at the back, which serve as prizes for those who manage to shoot down a number of targets. “They’re so beautiful!” she croons and Shizuo can see why. The antlers are long and thin, painted rose gold. The ears are fluffy, made of a combination of felt and faux fur, and sprinkled with stardust. The top of the headband is decorated with small silk flowers, of different sizes and colors. It’s certainly cheap and flimsy, as all carnival prizes tend to be, but it still looks like someone put great care into making it.

“Elf” Kururi mutters, joining her sister in front of the kiosk and pointing at an elf hat, complete with pointy ears, just a bit to the right of the deer headband.

Izaya sighs, exasperated with his sisters’ antics, but asks how much it costs to try his luck anyway. When the clearly bored employee hands him a shotgun, Izaya turns to extend it to Shizuo. “Come on, Shizu-chan, show us what you’ve got.”

Needless to say, Shizuo fails miserably. He manages to shoot down one target and is a second away from splitting the toy gun in half by the time he runs out of bullets. The twins are close to tears from disappointment, but Izaya looks sorely amused. He pays for another round, places the gun against his shoulder, takes aim and keeps entirely still for a second, before pulling the trigger and missing the first target by a hair. He remains calm and still despite the disappointed sounds his sisters make. He adjusts his position quietly, not losing his concentration, takes a deep breath and holds it before pulling the trigger and shooting down the first target. The twins scream with excitement and start jumping up and down excitedly, while Shizuo whistles his approval. Izaya ignores their reactions completely and continues in the same pace until he’s shot down all targets and won the headband for Mairu and then reluctantly pays for another round to win Kururi’s elf hat as well.

“You’re really good!” Shizuo exclaims when Izaya turns around to join them, handing over Kururi’s prize.

“And you’re predictably terrible” is what Izaya offers in reply, but his mood is clearly lighter than before as he basks in the awe-stricken stares of the crowd that has gathered to watch him shoot one target after the other.

“Where did you learn to shoot like that?”

“Didn’t you know? When I’m not wrecking Raijin with you, I’m a hitman for the yakuza.”

Despite his tone dripping with sarcasm, Shizuo has the sinking feeling that it wouldn’t be too farfetched for Izaya. It must show on his face because Izaya laughs at him like a madman.

Half an hour later, they’re sitting at a picnic bench facing each other, watching the girls run around with other kids not far from them. A comfortable silence has descended between them and Shizuo thinks to himself that Izaya is almost nice to be around when he’s not actively trying to piss him off. He lets his gaze wander to the boy sitting opposite him, studying his profile as the other is busy watching his sisters with a look that resembles affection too closely to look anything but foreign on him.

“This was nice.”

Izaya doesn’t refute this, but he keeps silent long enough to get Shizuo worried. His gaze is still following his sisters although his attention has clearly shifted. He drums his fingers on the table between them and hums skepticism in the back of his throat. “And it’s back to normal after the holidays, right?” He only cuts his gaze to Shizuo when his question goes unanswered and coming face to face with confusion he continues “Me pissing you off, you trying to kill me. Life at Raijin as we know it.”

Izaya’s features are set in hard resolve and his expression feels out of place in their current setting. He looks almost upset and Shizuo is shaking his head rendered weak with uncertainty. “It doesn’t have to be.”

Izaya’s jaw tenses, he averts his gaze to stare at the surface of the table instead, pressing his lips tight together as if to keep himself from saying something he’ll regret. Shizuo thinks he should say something, but as he opens his mouth, still uncertain of what’s going to come out of it, Izaya’s cell phone starts ringing and the moment is gone. As Izaya checks the screen for the caller’s identity and grimaces irritation, the twins arrive running at the table chanting a chorus of mom.

“Hello? Yes, hi mother” Izaya speaks into the receiver rolling his eyes and swatting his sisters’ hands away from him and the device. “Have you just landed? Alright, we’ll see you at home then.” The girls have fisted their little hands in his coat and are trying to pull him away from the table even before he’s hung up, Kururi murmuring late while Mairu alternates between shrieking with joy and berating her brother for not taking them home earlier. “They have just landed at the airport. They are still waiting for their luggage and they need at least an hour to get home from there, so stop dragging me!” They let go of him eventually, but they stay hovering by the table, eager to leave asap, so Izaya stands begrudgingly. “I guess it’s time we left, Shizu-chan.”

“It was nice meeting you, girls” Shizuo says as he gets up and then squats to be at the same level with the twins, trying his best to conceal his disappointment at having this evening cut short. He finds it easier than he originally thought as the twins throw themselves at him, hugging him tightly and wishing him a happy new year. Mairu goes on to heatedly explain that their parents are coming back for the New Year celebrations and they have to rush back home to welcome them and Shizuo can’t help but smile goofily at her excitement. Kururi just looks up at him and takes the hat off her head to place it on his. Present is all she says, but her eyes make it clear that she will not take no for an answer, so Shizuo thanks her and leaves the hat on. He hears Izaya chuckling above him, but Mairu is jumping on the table next thing he knows and when he looks up, Izaya has the deer antlers propped on his head, looking surprised and adorable. It’s Shizuo’s turn to chuckle, but as Izaya’s eyes narrow with irritation he states “you look cute” and watches color rise in the other’s face.

“If you tell anyone, I’ll kill you.” Shizuo takes it for the empty threat it is and just smiles.

“Leave it on, it suits you” and he takes a step forward, effectively stepping into Izaya’s personal space, leaning in to plant a kiss on his cheek. Izaya starts, shocked at the close proximity and clearly not knowing what to expect, and the kiss lands not exactly on his cheek, but at the corner of his lips, leaving the both of them embarrassed as the girls stare at them with matching devilish grins. “Happy New Year”, Shizuo blurts before turning to leave, to go find his brother and cousins so they can all leave together, the image of Izaya looking literally like a deer caught in the headlights imprinted on his memory.

DRRRSecretSanta2019: A lovely fic for @breedafool by Astroenergy! Thank you so much for participating!!

#submission #fanfic #long post

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dancingsparks · 5 years ago

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Real Elvish Rope

This is for @urfavpendeja, because she is amazing and wonderful and I am so happy to be her friend.

Thank you, @april-thelightfury115 for beta reading this and the lovely comments

Also on Ao3

Merry and Pippin were falling over each laughing, bursting into new giggles whenever they so much as looked into their direction. This was not good, not good at all. Thankfully, Sam seemed less at a loss as to what to do when you wake up with your arm tightly bound to your best friend’s. Though to be fair, Sam didn’t have to deal with the added difficulty of being utterly in love with said best friend.

“What do you think you are doing? Untie us immediately!” Unfortunately, Sam’s valiant efforts were only met with more hysteric laughter. Visibly giving up on getting any help from their insufferable friends, Sam instead focused his attention on the rope binding them together. It was the elven rope Galadriel had gifted him in Lothlórien - Sam couldn’t bear to part with it, it being a gift from an Elf and all. Frodo had thought it endearing, how much value Sam could find in the most elemental things; now Frodo wished he had left it behind.

That wasn’t fair, it wasn’t Sam’s fault they were in this situation after all. No, the only ones to blame were, as usual, Merry and Pippin. These two had always been prone to mischief, but Frodo had the impression they’d been worse since coming back from their adventure. Adventure - the term didn’t fit what each and every single one of them went through, but it was what Sam and Frodo had taken to calling it.

“Don’t you worry Mr. Frodo, I will get us out of this in no time at all. I think if I just pull here-” Sam pulled somewhere in the giant mess of a knot Frodo didn’t even attempt to decipher, looking triumphant for one short moment. Then the rope wound itself tighter around their arms, forcing them impossibly closer together.

Their faces were suddenly only inches apart, close enough that Frodo could feel Sam’s breath on his face, could see the gold sprinkles in his eyes.

“I don’t think you were supposed to pull there, Sam.” He smiled at him, incredibly tempted to stop his mumbled apologies by simply kissing him. He found himself wishing to kiss Sam quite often lately. Frodo quickly pulled back, lest he finally gave in to temptation. He underestimated the strength of the rope though, rearing back immediately and literally falling onto Sam, toppling him over.

Just a second ago he wouldn’t have thought it possible, but this position was even worse. Sam laid under him now, staring up at him in surprise, eyes wide, lips slightly parted. They practically begged to be kissed, all Frodo would have to do was lean down -

The moment was broken by a jarringly loud swell of laughter and the sudden appearance of Merry and Pippin next to them on the ground. Shoved into action, Frodo scrambled as far away from Sam as the rope would allow -which is to say not far at all- and tried to get a hold of this bizarre situation he somehow found himself in.

They were outside, next to the old tree Sam and Frodo liked to sit at, the one from which you could see the whole vale. Not the entire shire, of course, but a decent representation of it. That made sense, he knew this place, it was acceptable. He and Sam must have come up here like they did often, fell asleep, woke up bound Because Merry and Pippin thought themselves funny. Yes, that seemed about right. They must have provided them with a very easy target, too, and now an endless source of amusement.

As logical as the explanation sounded to his own ears, he’d better confirm it, because otherwise he would have to go back to thinking about how Sam was close enough that he could feel his warmth; how easy it would be to snuggle back into his broad chest and wrap those strong arms around him.

“Would someone mind telling me what’s happening here?” He used the most authoritative voice he was capable of at that moment, realising too late that it would hardly entreat his friends to answer him clearly. Merry and Pippin held their breath for a moment, stopping the incessant snickering to stare at Frodo. Hope flared in him, that it might have actually worked, before the cackling started again. He gave up on them with a resigned sigh, it would have been exceedingly odd for them to answer his demand anyway.

“I would think it pretty obvious what happened here, Frodo. We have to go now, but you two have fun, yes?” Before either Sam or Frodo could protest, Merry and Pippin pulled each other up, waved at them, and left, congratulating each other on a prank well executed. That was Frodo’s sole distraction gone. He should have reserved his sigh for now, because this situation surely called for one.

Watching them skipping down the hill, Frodo tried to come to terms with this development. Granted, it was far from optimal, but really, he had endured worse. Being bound to Sam would be no hardship, if only he could control his urges. They would be free in no time at all, Sam would never have to know, and they could laugh about it a few years down the road. It would be a story Sam could tell his children - the time he was bound to their uncle Frodo.

“We’d better leave it Mr. Frodo. Ask Gandalf to look at it maybe, he’s a wizard after all - who better to ask?” He was more talking to himself, examining the rope with a concentrated little frown on his face. It was adorable and Frodo found it all too easy to ignore the words and their meanings for now, simply admiring how handsome Sam looked when he was lost in thought.

“Are you alright, Mr. Frodo?” Sam was frowning at him now, something he did far too often. It didn’t seem pensive anymore, more concerned than anything else. The urge to smooth it out, wipe away the unhappy expression and all his worries with it came over Frodo, not unexpected but still overwhelming.

It was a futile hope, all he could do was alleviate the concern. But Sam would always fuss about him - that was who he was and Frodo loved him that way. Though he still wished he would worry less.

“Yes my dear Sam, I am quite alright. And I agree, it seems like any attempts to free ourselves only results in us being closer than before. This is no common rope, we shouldn’t dare tempt it.” He also didn’t dislike these circumstances, but Sam didn’t need to know that. That was his burden to bear, and his alone. He had experience with that kind of thing after all, though love was far more pleasing a burden.

“Let’s not dwell here then, I will make us something nice to eat and things will look better already. There is nothing a decent meal can’t fix.” Sam heaved himself up, offering his free hand to Frodo. He gratefully accepted and then they were walking down the hill together, leaning too close and planning their supper.

***

“You lads still bound, I see. Me and my Bertha, we did that too, was more common back then, though. Didn’t think such young folks as you would be interested. Hope no one given you any trouble? Heard there’s intolerant folks, just over in Bree, I did. It’s because of all the foreigners, I tell you. Shouldn’t let them in if all they do is cause trouble. But no one ever listens to me, only complain when it’s too late. Nothing but talk they all are, never doing anything.” He took another deep swallow from his mug, ignoring Frodo’s confusion in favour of drinking. He’d been referring to the rope, of course, that much was obvious – but everything else a mystery.

Frodo didn’t even know him, some friend of the Gaffer, Sam had said, and that it would be rude not to sit with him after he invited them. Frodo didn’t know who Bertha was, nor why he would willing bind himself to her, or why he stopped for that matter. That wasn’t quite right, he could see why he wasn’t bound to her anymore - it was hardly practical. He and Sam had been bound for about a week now, and things were less than ideal.

For one, obvious and yet a revelation when Frodo first realised the full impact, they could never part, thus had to do everything together. That was the crux of the matter - Frodo had much time to contemplate this and was fairly sure of it now. It’s not that he didn’t enjoy spending his every waking, and sleeping, moment with Sam - it’s that he enjoyed it too much. It has become increasingly more difficult to refrain from touching, from staring too long, and to remind himself that he could never have this.

Out of necessity, they had taken to sleeping in the same bed. Sam had refused at first, intent on sleeping on the hard floor next to the bed, insisting he didn’t want to burden Frodo or endanger his sleep. It had taken some coaxing and reminding of the nights they’d spent on their adventure, and finally, the closest Frodo wanted to get to a command, before Sam gave in and laid down next to him.

The bed was indeed very narrow for two fully grown hobbits, so they had to lay pressed close together. Frodo didn’t mind that; he felt safe, warm, and protected this close to his Sam. And if Sam minded, he never said a word. It didn’t matter in the end, because even if they had a larger bed with more than enough space, they would still be bound together. Again, Frodo wasn’t complaining, he loved falling asleep and waking up in Sam’s arms.

A problem neither of them had anticipated were clothes. It was impossible to change shirts when your arm was bound to someone else’s. It was equally impossible to simply not change them, the thought of a stinking, dirty shirt causing horror to both of them. Not wearing shirts at all, was equally unthinkable, for reasons far less innocent. So they did the only reasonable thing - they wore ponchos. They were of ridiculous design -not that Frodo would ever point that out, as Sam was extremely fond of them- with silly fringes and clashing colours. Frodo would have buried them somewhere deep in the cupboard, never to see the light of day again and lie forgotten, but Sam had been so proud when he presented them - he couldn’t go through with it. It was at least better than wearing nothing, he supposed.

In contrast, cooking had been a pleasant surprise. They had gone from Frodo uselessly following Sam around while he cooked, to Sam handing him things to hold and carry and finally trusting him with simple cutting and stirring work. Frodo had never much cared for cooking, nothing like the passion Sam had for it. But watching him lovingly wash vegetables, taste from different pots and deliberate about the exact component missing - Frodo had found a new appreciation for cooking.

Frodo was startled out of his musings by Sam, smiling at him and expecting an answer. Frodo could feel himself blush as he admitted to being lost in daydreams and not paying attention. Sam just laughed fondly before explaining how he was asked some advice on a garden and he recommended something he did in their garden - honestly, Frodo didn’t pay attention to the words this time either, too caught up in admiring Sam’s enthusiastic passion. Not that Sam seemed to mind, giving up and shaking his head in fond exasperation.

***

This had been an exceptionally stupid idea. The candle on their desk was burning, casting everything in a warm glow and filling the air with a sweet scent. The tablecloth was deep red, perfectly matching to the roses on every table. And even though he couldn’t see where, Frodo could swear there was someone playing emotional and profound pieces on the piano. This must be the most, over the top romantic place in the whole shire - he could have lived blissfully unaware of it, never stepping a foot in here.

But he wasn’t here for himself, he was here for Sam. Sam and Rosie, that was. The first proper date Sam would take her on, and the fool had wanted to cancel it, all because he didn’t want to inconvenience Frodo. He had been set, rather persistently actually, to miss an romantic evening with the love of his life; didn’t even plan on telling Frodo he was to blame for it. But Sam was the love of Frodo’s life, and as such, he aspired to make him happy above all. So when Sam had insisted that he didn’t want to go on his date with Rosie, that their bond had changed everything, Frodo had dutifully ignored him and forced him to go regardless. He would not allow him to ruin his chance at happiness over unnecessary concern for Frodo.

Now here he was, gazing at Sam’s lovely eyes over the candlelight, forcibly reminding himself that this was not for him. This was all for Rosie, Sam tolerated him here and he better not forget it. Frodo’s role in all of this was to be supportive and accepting of their relationship, not hope for it to fail behind his friends back. And he didn’t! It would hurt his dear Sam greatly, which was the last thing Frodo could ever want.

Sam was as nervous as Frodo, fidgeting and casting furtive glances around the restaurant. Frodo had already done that and -finding the surrounding hobbits, flowers and romantic trinkets not nearly as fascinating as Sam- had no plans of doing so again. Sam was blushing endearingly, appearing even softer than usual in the candlelight. Maybe Frodo could find the appeal in this date thing after all - it would be most lovely to have Sam here with him of his own volition, to see Sam blush and fidget because of him and be allowed to calm him with a gentle touch. He could almost pretend, could forget they were waiting for Rosie -

“I am sorry that I am late, I hope you haven’t waited too long?” Rosie’s sudden arrival ripped him out of his fantasy. Smiling a bright smile that instantly made Frodo forgive the rudeness and Sam’s blush intensify.

“No, its quite alright, we haven’t waited too long. Please, sit down.” Sam stood up, pulling the chair out for her like the perfect gentleman. Frodo forced a smile. This would be harder than anticipated. But he was proud of Sam, that alone should make it bearable. In the past Sam would hardly get one coherent sentence out in front of her, stumbling over his words and feet in equal measure.

Now he was earnest, and charming, showing none of his insecurities, and treated her like he would any other hobbit, with courtesy and respect.

It was a mystery to Frodo how he’d wrestled his nervousness under control this quickly; it had been barely a week since he asked her out, convinced she would reject him. That had been the very same day those insipid hobbits he called friends bound them together. Frodo cursed their timing. He wasn’t certain if he wished they’d done it sooner, preventing Sam from ever asked Rosie out, or later, so that Frodo wouldn’t have to sit through their date, watching them lovingly gaze at each other. He desperately hoped it was the latter; he didn’t want to begrudge Sam his happiness, but he had a sneaking dread that it might be the former.

“I have to admit, I didn’t expect you to still want me here, after I heard of your bonding. I promise you I wouldn’t be cross with you, I rather suspected something like this.” She was smiling again -could that woman do nothing else- though it was less friendly this time and had what Bilbo would call a ‘scheming quality’ to it. But Frodo must be misreading it, Sam wouldn’t be interested in someone dishonest. Frodo was tempted to ask her how she could possibly have foreseen their friend’s terrible sense of humour, but he refrained. This was not his date, Sam and Rosie were most likely intent on forgetting his presence all together and wouldn’t take well to the reminder of the third party at their table.

“Oh no! I assure you Rosie, I would never have asked you out if that were the case. You don’t deserve to be treated like that! Our friends think themselves funny you see, I don’t think they even realised what they did. Please don’t doubt that you are wanted here.” At Sam’s earnest assurance something ugly climbed up in Frodo, something demanding he tell her she was not wanted in the slightest and better stay away from his Sam. He pushed it down, firmly and deep, knowing it would creep up again no matter how hard he tried to extinguish it. Like the weed Sam would sometimes complain about - you never got rid of it, could only try your best to control the damage. Frodo forced himself to echo Sam’s sentiment at her searching look in his direction. He could never forgive himself if he scared Sam’s love away.

“I see you both have arranged yourself with the situation splendidly, maybe your friends knew something you didn’t?” She made Sam laugh with her cryptic remark and Frodo tried to be pleased about that, relived that he would spend his life with someone who made him laugh. Sam’s laugh was a beautiful thing, full of life and joy, it would be crime if it became a rare occasion. And if Rosie would keep it alive by talking nonsense, Frodo could live with that.

“This has been – revealing - but I fear I must leave you, I have an urgent matter to attend to. Thank you for inviting me, Sam, I sincerely am happy for you, please don’t hold back on my account. We should do this again soon. It was lovely meeting you Frodo, I am sure you will excuse me.” She smiled that smile again, that one full of riddles and knowledge Frodo didn’t have. He couldn’t find it in himself to be overly irked though. She was leaving again, and the small but very loud, selfish part of Frodo was glad for it. It was easily enough justified, she didn’t reject Sam, complimented him even, and asked to postpone this. Most likely she was uncomfortable with Frodo being there and too polite to say so.

Frodo expected Sam to be crestfallen at the development, but he seemed oddly relieved to see her go. He didn’t look sad, didn’t plead with her to stay but wished her good luck with that mysterious matter of hers, and bid her goodbye. It could have been a front, of course, but as they sat down again he smiled at Frodo, waiting for him to say something.

“I’m sorry she left early, I can’t imagine how you must feel. I fear my presence might have scared her off.” It was the only thing he could think to say, regardless of the fact that Sam didn’t look like he needed or wanted his condolences.

“Oh you mustn’t Mr. Frodo, she had somewhere else to be, it is not your fault. We can try again, some other time.” He stopped there, opening his mouth as if to say more but changed his mind in the last moment, deciding against it.

Frodo couldn't believe that Sam was as nonchalant about Rosie leaving as he pretended, but he knew better than to ask again. When Sam had decided on something, nothing could deter him, so when he wanted to pretend he wasn’t hurt, Frodo would not question him. But he could also do his best to reduce Sam’s suffering, no matter if it was admitted or not. He would get him out of here, where everything would remind him of the evening he should have had, and distract him with some pastries. Before he could so much as suggest leaving though, Sam found his courage and started his aborted sentence again.

“I hear the food here is spectacular, we should eat, now that we’re here and all.” He was blushing beet red, worse even then when Rosie smiled at him. Frodo can only assume it was caused by the humiliation of going on a date with his friend, because his actual love interest left.

He considered his options.

Frodo could spend a lovely, though probably strained, evening with the love at his life at a romantic restaurant, seeing him blush in the soft glow of the candle, hearing him hum along to the music, and listening to him rave about the food. It sounded wonderful and he yearned for it, longed with his whole heart. But Sam didn’t want this date to be with him, he wanted it with Rosie. On the other hand, he offered and sounded genuine.

They could also leave. Frodo could get them some pastries, though Margret didn’t like him. She looked at him with apprehension and warned anyone who would listen that he was the adventurous type. But she adored Sam, which wasn’t fair but understandable, because it wasn’t possible not to adore him. Margret made the absolute best pastries, renowned in all the shire for them and her well-guarded secret recipe. He would of course have to keep Sam occupied somehow, but he was reasonably confident that, if he asked nicely - begged maybe - and told her it’s to cheer Sam up, she could be convinced to let him have some. Frodo would owe her though, much he feared. But Sam’s happy expression would be worth it - Sam’s happiness was worth everything.

In the end, it wasn’t a difficult decision to make. If Frodo had the choice to keep sitting here, comfortable, warm, certain of a good meal and with Sam - he would be a fool to reject that.

“I would love nothing more, Sam.”

***

Frodo had been awake for half an hour, securely held in Sam’s arms, pressed to his chest, their faces torturous close together. He could feel Sam’s deep and even breath on his face, count his dark eyelashes, trace constellations in his endless freckles. There was no question about it, Sam was beautiful. Maybe not elven beauty of perfection and elegance, but beautiful nonetheless.

Waking up to find Sam still sleeping had quickly become habit. Frodo would patiently wait, taking the opportunity to stare and admire all he wanted, without the risk of getting caught and being asked hard to answer questions. But he had been staring at Sam for over a week now, no one the wiser and nothing bad happening.

It felt terrible. Like he was taking advantage of Sam’s ignorance, invading his privacy, and getting away with it. There he lay, gazing at Sam, wishing he didn’t have to restrict those moments to early mornings and late evenings; wishing that Sam would look at him the same way. This has gotten too far, watching Sam during the day -like any other hobbit might, when he is conscious and aware of others seeing him- is something completely different to creepily absorbing every detail of his face while he sleeps, unaware and vulnerable.

And Frodo considered himself a friend! Wouldn’t a true friend tell him? Not keep exploiting Sam’s trust, but tell him the horrible truth? It was agonising to think about, those thoughts slowly creeping in and investing every peaceful moment Frodo found, like vermin crawling through the smallest cracks and up the highest walls.

The simple answer would be to stop watching Sam in his sleep; to go back to merely looking at him over the day. Go back to what he could justify. But now that he had found this - how could he possibly give it up? That might just be the worst thing; that Frodo knew it was wrong and was too weak to stop, to restrain himself.

That only left telling Sam. Even if Sam would hate him, would cut all ties to him, and Frodo would only see him per chance. Even if that meant Sam would leave.

It would be better for him; Sam deserved a friend who didn’t stare him when he slept, who didn’t hate his partner out of petty jealousy. It would probably destroy Frodo, to see him go, but what did it matter anymore, if Sam wasn’t there?

Frodo was ripped out of his dark musings by Sam waking up. “It’s a sunny morning Mr. Frodo, what makes you look so grim?”

He looked soft and warm, still sleepy - Frodo couldn’t help himself. If he was going to tell Sam, lose all of this, he might as well might it count.

He surged forward, closed the space between their faces and pressed a kiss to Sam’s lips. Sam let out a surprised little noise, but he didn’t move away. Encouraged by that, Frodo brought the unbound hand up to his face, feeling the smooth skin and moving it up in his hair, tangling it into his curls. Sam’s lips were soft against his, maybe even kissing him back, but that might be wishful thinking. His hair felt wonderful in his grasp, smooth and perfect to bury his hands in. Frodo never wanted this to stop.

When he eventually had to move back for air, reality came crashing into the world he had built for himself. This wasn’t how things usually went; he never woke Sam with a kiss, and after this? He never would again. Even this was already too much - too much that he’d taken from Sam - without consent or consideration for his feelings. It was selfish and terrible and he would do it again in a heartbeat and without hesitation, no matter the costs. That, Frodo knew with absolute, horrifying certainty - was too good to give up.

He didn’t dare open his eyes to see Sam’s betrayed look, maybe even disgust; didn’t dare breathe after the initial gasp for air, for fear of breaking the silence, of starting Sam on those curses and yells he must be bursting to throw at him; didn’t dare move lest Sam realised how they were still laying close enough to feel each-others beating hearts, and moved away as far as possible. It was inevitable, all of it, but Frodo sought to postpone it anyway.

It was impossibly still in the room, the silence pressing down on him, neither of them moving, both waiting for the other to break first.

Finally Sam moved, bringing his free hand up to his face. For one crazed moment, Frodo thought he would strike him. But Sam didn’t, he gently cupped his face, his hand heavy and warm on Frodo’s cheek. Startled by the affectionate touch, Frodo opened his eyes. Sam looked at him with what could only be described as love, and yet couldn’t possibly be love, not after what Frodo just did.

“Oh Mr. Frodo, that is no reason to look all grim and maudlin.” He was smiling at him, bright and warm like the sunlight and Frodo couldn’t believe it. That was not supposed to happen. He had wanted it to happen, but things almost never turned out the way he wanted them to. So all he could do was just stare at Sam, who was still smiling, patient and fond, and stroking his cheekbone with his thumb. Then he kissed Frodo.

And suddenly it made all perfect sense, because Sam was kissing him and things were exactly like they were supposed to be. He was faintly aware that it didn’t make sense at all, that Sam shouldn’t be kissing him, but he was too occupied kissing back to dedicate much thought to it. It didn’t matter anyway, not with Sam making those sounds and pulling him closer.

***

“So how is that bond going, still trying to break it?” Pippin was grinning at them, the question making Merry choke on his drink. Those two had been far too pleased with themselves for their little prank, enquiring after the status of the bond any chance they got and breaking into laughter when they were told they were still stuck. Frodo didn’t see the appeal; it surely wasn’t that hilarious - no one else thought it funny. But they just smirked and changed the topic when he asked them about it. Now though, now he could finally stun them into silence.

They were both looking at him expectantly, giddy, like children receiving presents with an extra note of mischief. Frodo smiled broadly, noting with satisfaction the first flicker of doubt in their identical expressions.

“It’s going well, thank you for asking. It fell off this morning, just like that. We decided to retie it, to honour the courtship traditions.” Seeing their gobsmacked faces and hearing their spluttering filled Frodo with more glee than was probably appropriate. He had no desire to keep it concealed though, laughing in their faces and kissing Sam on the cheek, leaning closer into him.

He looked down at the rope binding them, fonder now that it was a voluntary and conscious gesture, proclaiming their new-found relationship for all who could recognise it. Sam had explained it to him, when the rope had suddenly come loose, how it was an old tradition that had fallen out of fashion. Frodo could only assume that the rope had some magic infused, giving it a mind of its own and forcing the tradition on them until they both accepted it to be the truth. At which point it had fallen away, leaving both of them feeling strange and missing it. The mysteries of elven craft were immeasurable. After Sam told him how he had always like the tradition and had dreamed of doing it someday, Frodo had suggested they re-bind themselves. He’d mostly said it to see Sam’s eyes light up in that way they do when he is especially excited about something, but the thought of being ‘free’ of Sam, now that they had finally found each other, didn’t sit well with Frodo.

It was Merry who recovered first, shutting his mouth and nodding primly. “Of course, as was the plan all along. Obviously not exactly the plan, we didn’t know the rope would be quite this supportive, but it worked out fine, didn’t it?”

“What do you mean, as was the plan all along?” Frodo had intended to sound sharper, angrier, but he was content and lazy, with Sam so close and at liberty to touch and stare to his heart’s desire.

“Ah you see, Merry and I, we thought you were taking too long and could use some help. So we bound you together. It was getting too depressing to watch you dance around each other. Rather brilliant of us, wasn’t it? To thank us, you should buy the next round, I think.” To underline his words, he emptied his mug with one deep swallow, thumping it heavily on the table. Merry followed suit, all too happy to accept that form of payment.

Frodo stared at them. They had planned this? Had he really been this obvious in his affections that even they had noticed? Before he could start worrying about it, his thoughts were interrupted by Rosie, firmly placing two new mugs in front of them. Frodo hadn’t known what to expect from her, didn’t think too much on it if he was being honest, but it certainly wasn’t a sincere smile.

“I hear congratulations are in order. You make a lovely couple, I am truly happy for the both of you.” And with that she was gone again. Frodo stared after her, feeling very bad for thinking ill of her.

Before he could dwell on her easy acceptance of how completely things had changed in such a short time, his attention was caught by Merry loudly and exuberantly proposing a toast to them. Maybe he really did owe his friends thanks. On his own he never would have gotten this, Sam sitting close to him, muffling his laughter in his hair, hands bound together and looking forward to a lifetime spent together.

#lotr #samfro #sam x frodo #my writing #fanfic

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quietya · 6 years ago

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31 Days of quietYA: Books for Fans of Time Travel

If time travel is your thing, then I’ve got some good news for you - there’s a lot of it in YA. Some of these aren’t actually/strictly time travel, but you’ll get the gist.

Loop by Karen Akins

At a school where Quantum Paradox 101 is a required course and history field trips are literal, sixteen year-old time traveler Bree Bennis excels…at screwing up. After Bree botches a solo midterm to the 21st century by accidentally taking a boy hostage (a teensy snafu), she stands to lose her scholarship. But when Bree sneaks back to talk the kid into keeping his yap shut, she doesn't go back far enough. The boy, Finn, now three years older and hot as a solar flare, is convinced he's in love with Bree, or rather, a future version of her that doesn't think he's a complete pain in the arse. To make matters worse, she inadvertently transports him back to the 23rd century with her. Once home, Bree discovers that a recent rash of accidents at her school are anything but accidental. Someone is attacking time travelers. As Bree and her temporal tagalong uncover seemingly unconnected clues—a broken bracelet, a missing data file, the art heist of the millennium—that lead to the person responsible, she alone has the knowledge to piece the puzzle together. Knowledge only one other person has. Her future self. But when those closest to her become the next victims, Bree realizes the attacker is willing to do anything to stop her. In the past, present, or future.

Crewel by Gennifer Albin

Incapable. Awkward. Artless. That’s what the other girls whisper behind her back. But sixteen-year-old Adelice Lewys has a secret: She wants to fail. Gifted with the ability to weave time with matter, she’s exactly what the Guild is looking for, and in the world of Arras, being chosen to work the looms is everything a girl could want. It means privilege, eternal beauty, and being something other than a secretary. It also means the power to manipulate the very fabric of reality. But if controlling what people eat, where they live, and how many children they have is the price of having it all, Adelice isn’t interested. Not that her feelings matter, because she slipped and used her hidden talent for a moment. Now she has one hour to eat her mom’s overcooked pot roast. One hour to listen to her sister’s academy gossip and laugh at her dad’s jokes. One hour to pretend everything’s okay. And one hour to escape. Because tonight, they’ll come for her.

Future Shock by Elizabeth Briggs

Elena Martinez has street smarts, the ability for perfect recall, and a deadline: if she doesn’t find a job before she turns eighteen, she’ll be homeless. But then she gets an unexpected offer from Aether Corporation, the powerful Los Angeles tech giant. Along with four other recruits—Adam, Chris, Trent, and Zoe—Elena is being sent on a secret mission to bring back data from the future. All they have to do is get Aether the information they need, and the five of them will be set for life. It’s an offer Elena can’t refuse. But something goes wrong when the time travelers arrive in the future. And they are forced to break the only rule they were given—not to look into their own fates. Now they have twenty-four hours to get back to the present and find a way to stop a seemingly inevitable future—and a murder—from happening. But changing the timeline has deadly consequences too. Who can Elena trust as she fights to save her life?

The Wood by Chelsea Bobulski

When Winter’s dad goes missing during his nightly patrol of the wood, it falls to her to patrol the time portals and protect the travelers who slip through them. Winter can't help but think there's more to her dad's disappearance than she's being told. She soon finds a young man traveling in the wood named Henry who knows more than he should. He believes if they can work together to find his missing parents, they could discover the truth about Winter’s dad. The wood is poisoned, changing into something sinister—torturing travelers lost in it. Winter must put her trust in Henry in order to find the truth and those they’ve lost.

Cold Summer by Gwen Cole

Kale Jackson has spent years trying to control his time-traveling ability but hasn’t had much luck. One day he lives in 1945, fighting in the war as a sharpshooter and helplessly watching soldiers—friends—die. Then the next day, he’s back in the present, where WWII has bled into his modern life in the form of PTSD, straining his relationship with his father and the few friends he has left. Every day it becomes harder to hide his battle wounds, both physical and mental, from the past. When the ex-girl-next-door, Harper, moves back to town, thoughts of what could be if only he had a normal life begin to haunt him. Harper reminds him of the person he was before the PTSD, which helps anchor him to the present. With practice, maybe Kale could remain in the present permanently and never step foot on a battlefield again. Maybe he can have the normal life he craves. But then Harper finds Kale’s name in a historical article—and he’s listed as a casualty of the war. Kale knows now that he must learn to control his time-traveling ability to save himself and his chance at a life with Harper. Otherwise, he’ll be killed in a time where he doesn’t belong by a bullet that was never meant for him.

Until We Meet Again by Renee Collins

Cassandra craves drama and adventure, so the last thing she wants is to spend her summer marooned with her mother and stepfather in a snooty Massachusetts shore town. But when a dreamy stranger shows up on their private beach claiming it's his own—and that the year is 1925—she is swept into a mystery a hundred years in the making. As she searches for answers in the present, Cassandra discovers a truth that puts their growing love—and Lawrence's life—into jeopardy. Desperate to save him, Cassandra must find a way to change history…or risk losing Lawrence forever.

Tempest by Julie Cross

The year is 2009. Nineteen-year-old Jackson Meyer is a normal guy… he's in college, has a girlfriend… and he can travel back through time. But it's not like the movies — nothing changes in the present after his jumps, there's no space-time continuum issues or broken flux capacitors — it's just harmless fun. That is… until the day strangers burst in on Jackson and his girlfriend, Holly, and during a struggle with Jackson, Holly is fatally shot. In his panic, Jackson jumps back two years to 2007, but this is not like his previous time jumps. Now he's stuck in 2007 and can't get back to the future. Desperate to somehow return to 2009 to save Holly but unable to return to his rightful year, Jackson settles into 2007 and learns what he can about his abilities. But it's not long before the people who shot Holly in 2009 come looking for Jackson in the past, and these "Enemies of Time" will stop at nothing to recruit this powerful young time-traveler. Recruit… or kill him. Piecing together the clues about his father, the Enemies of Time, and himself, Jackson must decide how far he's willing to go to save Holly… and possibly the entire world.

Traveler by L.E. DeLano

Jessa has spent her life dreaming of other worlds and writing down stories more interesting than her own, until the day her favorite character, Finn, suddenly shows up and invites her out for coffee. After the requisite nervous breakdown, Jessa learns that she and Finn are Travelers, born with the ability to slide through reflections and dreams into alternate realities. But it’s not all steampunk pirates and fantasy lifestyles—Jessa is dying over and over again, in every reality, and Finn is determined that this time, he’s going to stop it…This Jessa is going to live.

A Kiss in Time by Alex Flinn

Talia fell under a spell...Jack broke the curse. I was told to beware the accursed spindle, but it was so enchanting, so hypnotic... I was looking for a little adventure the day I ditched my tour group. But finding a comatose town, with a hot-looking chick asleep in it, was so not what I had in mind. I awakened in the same place but in another time—to a stranger's soft kiss. I couldn't help kissing her. Sometimes you just have to kiss someone. I didn't know this would happen. Now I am in dire trouble because my father, the king, says I have brought ruin upon our country. I have no choice but to run away with this commoner! Now I'm stuck with a bratty princess and a trunk full of her jewels...The good news: My parents will freak! Think you have dating issues? Try locking lips with a snoozing stunner who turns out to be 316 years old. Can a kiss transcend all—even time?

Invictus by Ryan Graudin

Farway Gaius McCarthy was born outside of time. The son of a time-traveling Recorder from 2354 AD and a gladiator living in Rome in 95 AD, Far's birth defies the laws of nature. Exploring history himself is all he's ever wanted, and after failing his final time-traveling exam, Far takes a position commanding a ship with a crew of his friends as part of a black market operation to steal valuables from the past. But during a heist on the sinking Titanic, Far meets a mysterious girl who always seems to be one step ahead of him. Armed with knowledge that will bring Far's very existence into question, she will lead Far and his team on a race through time to discover a frightening truth: History is not as steady as it seems.

The Square Root of Summer by Harriet Reuter Hapgood

Gottie H. Oppenheimer is losing time. Literally. When the fabric of the universe around her seaside town begins to fray, she's hurtled through wormholes to her past: To last summer, when her grandfather Grey died. To the afternoon she fell in love with Jason, who wouldn't even hold her hand at the funeral. To the day her best friend Thomas moved away and left her behind with a scar on her hand and a black hole in her memory. Although Grey is still gone, Jason and Thomas are back, and Gottie's past, present, and future are about to collide—and someone's heart is about to be broken.

The Girl From Everywhere by Heidi Heilig

Nix has spent her entire life aboard her father’s ship, sailing across the centuries, across the world, across myth and imagination. As long as her father has a map for it, he can sail to any time, any place, real or imagined: nineteenth-century China, the land from One Thousand and One Nights, a mythic version of Africa. Along the way they have found crewmates and friends, and even a disarming thief who could come to mean much more to Nix. But the end to it all looms closer every day. Her father is obsessed with obtaining the one map, 1868 Honolulu, that could take him back to his lost love, Nix’s mother. Even though getting it—and going there—could erase Nix’s very existence. For the first time, Nix is entering unknown waters. She could find herself, find her family, find her own fantastical ability, her own epic love. Or she could disappear.

The Love That Split the World by Emily Henry

Natalie’s last summer in her small Kentucky hometown is off to a magical start…until she starts seeing the “wrong things.” At first, they’re just momentary glimpses—her front door is red instead of its usual green, there’s a pre-school where the garden store should be. But then her whole town disappears for hours, fading away into rolling hills and grazing buffalo, and Nat knows something isn’t right. That’s when she gets a visit from the kind but mysterious apparition she calls “Grandmother,” who tells her: “You have three months to save him.” The next night, under the stadium lights of the high school football field, she meets a beautiful boy named Beau, and it’s as if time just stops and nothing exists. Nothing, except Natalie and Beau.

Proof of Forever by Lexa Hillyer

Before: It was the perfect summer of first kisses, skinny-dipping, and bonfires by the lake. Joy, Tali, Luce, and Zoe knew their final summer at Camp Okahatchee would come to an end, but they swore they’d stay friends. After: Now, two years later, their bond has faded along with those memories. Then: That is, until the fateful flash of a photo booth camera transports the four of them back in time, to the summer they were fifteen—the summer everything changed. Now: The girls must recreate the past in order to return to the present. As they live through their second-chance summer, the mystery behind their lost friendship unravels, and a dark secret threatens to tear the girls apart all over again. Always: Summers end. But this one will change them forever.

Prada and Prejudice by Mandy Hubbard

Fifteen-year-old Callie buys a pair of real Prada pumps to impress the cool crowd on a school trip to London. Goodbye, Callie the clumsy geek-girl, hello popularity! But before she knows what’s hit her, Callie wobbles, trips, conks her head...and wakes up in the year 1815!

She stumbles about until she meets the kind-hearted Emily, who takes Callie in, mistaking her for a long-lost friend. Sparks soon fly between Callie and Emily’s cousin, Alex, the maddeningly handsome - though totally arrogant - Duke of Harksbury. Too bad he seems to have something sinister up his ruffled sleeve...

From face-planting off velvet piano benches and hiding behind claw-foot couches to streaking through the estate halls wearing nothing but an itchy blanket, Callie’s curiosity about Alex creates all kinds of trouble.

But the grandfather clock is ticking on her 19th Century shenanigans. Can Callie save Emily from a dire engagement, win a kiss from Alex, and prove to herself that she’s more than just a loud-mouth klutz before her time there is up?

The Edge of Forever by Melissa E. Hurst

In 2013, sixteen-year-old Alora is having blackouts. Each time she wakes up in a different place with no idea how she got there. The one thing she is certain of? Someone is following her. In 2146, seventeen-year-old Bridger is one of a small number of people born with the ability to travel to the past. While on a routine school time trip, he sees the last person he expected—his dead father. The strangest part is that, according to the Department of Temporal Affairs, his father was never assigned to be in that time. Bridger’s even more stunned when he learns that his by-the-book father was there to break the most important rule of time travel—to prevent someone’s murder. And that someone is named Alora. Determined to discover why his father wanted to help a “ghost,” Bridger illegally shifts to 2013 and, along with Alora, races to solve the mystery surrounding her past and her connection to his father before the DTA finds him. If he can stop Alora’s death without altering the timeline, maybe he can save his father too.

The Next Together by Laura James

Katherine and Matthew are destined to be born again and again, century after century. Each time, their presence changes history for the better, and each time, they fall hopelessly in love, only to be tragically separated. Spanning the Crimean War, the Siege of Carlisle and the near-future of 2019 and 2039 they find themselves sacrificing their lives to save the world. But why do they keep coming back? What else must they achieve before they can be left to live and love in peace? Maybe the next together will be different...

Return Once More by Trisha Leigh

Years have passed since refugees from a ruined earth took to space, eventually settling a new system of planets. Science has not only made the leaps necessary to allow time travel, but the process engineered a strange side effect—predicting your one true love. Sixteen-year-old Kaia Vespasian is an apprentice to the Historians—a group charged with using time travel to document the triumphs and failures of the past—and she can’t resist a peek at her long-dead soul mate in Ancient Egypt. Before she knows it, she’s broken every rule in the book, and the consequences of getting caught could destroy more than just her new romance. But when Kaia notices a fellow classmate snooping around in a time where he doesn’t belong, she suspects he has a secret of his own—and the conspiracy she uncovers could threaten the entire universe. If her experience has taught her anything, to changing history means facing the consequences. The Historians trained her to observe and record the past, but Kaia never guessed she might have to protect it— in a race across time to save her only chance at a future.

The Girl with the Red Balloon by Katherine Locke

Ever since she arrived in Germany on a school trip, Ellie Baum has felt the weight of history on her. After all, she’s the first one in her family to return since her grandfather’s miraculous escape from a death camp, and in Berlin, pieces of the past—World War II, the Cold War—are still visible decades later. One day, visiting the Berlin Wall Memorial, she sees a stray balloon floating across the park, and she wanders away from the crowd to follow it. One moment she’s reaching out to grab it—the next, she’s yanked back through time to when the wall is still standing. It is 1988, and Ellie is in East Berlin. Nobody knows how she got there, not even the members of the underground guild—the Runners and the Schöpfers—who use balloons and magic to help people escape over the wall. Now as a stranger in an oppressive regime, Ellie must hide from the police with the help of Kai, a Runner struggling with his own uneasy relationship with the powerful Balloonmakers and his growing feelings for Ellie. Together they search for the truth behind Ellie’s mysterious time travel, and when they uncover a plot to alter history with dark magic, she must risk everything—including her only way home—to stop the deadly plans.

The Spy with the Red Balloon by Katherine Locke

Siblings Ilse and Wolf hide a deep secret in their blood: with it, they can work magic. And the government just found out.Blackmailed into service during World War II, Ilse lends her magic to America’s newest weapon, the atom bomb, while Wolf goes behind enemy lines to sabotage Germany’s nuclear program. It’s a dangerous mission, but if Hitler were to create the bomb first, the results would be catastrophic. When Wolf’s plane is shot down, his entire mission is thrown into jeopardy. Wolf needs Ilse’s help to develop the magic that will keep him alive, but with a spy afoot in Ilse’s laboratory, the letters she sends to Wolf begin to look treasonous. Can Ilse prove her loyalty—and find a way to help her brother—before their time runs out?

Kissing Shakespeare by Pamela Mingle

Miranda has Shakespeare in her blood: she hopes one day to become a Shakespearean actor like her famous parents. At least, she does until her disastrous performance in her school's staging of The Taming of the Shrew. Humiliated, Miranda skips the opening-night party. All she wants to do is hide. Fellow cast member, Stephen Langford, has other plans for Miranda. When he steps out of the backstage shadows and asks if she'd like to meet Shakespeare, Miranda thinks he's a total nutcase. But before she can object, Stephen whisks her back to 16th century England—the world Stephen's really from. He wants Miranda to use her acting talents and modern-day charms on the young Will Shakespeare. Without her help, Stephen claims, the world will lost its greatest playwright. Miranda isn't convinced she's the girl for the job. Why would Shakespeare care about her? And just who is this infuriating time traveler, Stephen Langford? Reluctantly, she agrees to help, knowing that it's her only chance of getting back to the present and her "real" life. What Miranda doesn't bargain for is finding true love . . . with no acting required.

Timeless by Alexandra Monir

When tragedy strikes Michele Windsor's family, she is forced to move from Los Angeles to New York City to live with the wealthy, aristocratic grandparents she has never met. In their historic Fifth Avenue mansion, filled with a century's worth of family secrets, Michele discovers the biggest family secret of all - an ancestor's diary that, amazingly, has the power to send her back in time to 1910, the year it was written. There, at a glamorous high-society masquerade ball, Michele meets the young man with striking blue eyes who has haunted her dreams all her life. And she finds herself falling for him, and into an otherworldly romance. Soon Michele is leading a double life, struggling to balance her contemporary high school world with her escapes into the past. But when she stumbles upon a terrible discovery, she is propelled on a race through history to save the boy she loves - and to complete a quest that will determine their fate.

Now That You’re Here by Amy Nichols

In a parallel universe, the classic bad boy falls for the class science geek. One minute Danny was running from the cops, and the next, he jolted awake in an unfamiliar body - his own, but different. Somehow, he's crossed into a parallel universe. Now his friends are his enemies, his parents are long dead, and studious Eevee is not the mysterious femme fatale he once kissed back home. Then again, this Eevee - a girl who'd rather land an internship at NASA than a date to the prom--may be his only hope of getting home. Eevee tells herself she's only helping him in the name of quantum physics, but there's something undeniably fascinating about this boy from another dimension... a boy who makes her question who she is, and who she might be in another place and time.

Stolen Time by Danielle Rollins (coming February 5, 2019)

Seattle, 1913 // Dorothy is trapped. Forced into an engagement to a wealthy man just so she and her mother can live comfortably for the rest of their days, she’ll do anything to escape. Including sneaking away from her wedding and bolting into the woods to disappear. New Seattle, 2077 // Ash is on a mission. Rescue the professor—his mentor who figured out the secret to time travel—so together they can put things right in their devastated city. But searching for one man means endless jumps through time with no guarantee of success. When Dorothy collides with Ash, she sees it as her chance to start fresh—she’ll stow away in his plane and begin a new life wherever they land. Then she wakes up in a future that’s been ripped apart by earthquakes and floods; where vicious gangs rule the submerged city streets and a small group of intrepid travelers from across time are fighting against the odds to return things to normal. What Dorothy doesn’t know is that she could hold the key to unraveling the past—and her arrival may spell Ash’s ultimate destruction.

Time Between Us by Tamara Ireland Stone

Anna and Bennett were never supposed to meet: she lives in 1995 Chicago and he lives in 2012 San Francisco. But Bennett has the unique ability to travel through time and space, which brings him into Anna’s life, and with him a new world of adventure and possibility. As their relationship deepens, the two face the reality that time may knock Bennett back to where he belongs, even as a devastating crisis throws everything they believe into question. Against a ticking clock, Anna and Bennett are forced to ask themselves how far they can push the bounds of fate, what consequences they can bear in order to stay together, and whether their love can stand the test of time.

Into the Dim by Janet B. Taylor

When fragile, sixteen-year-old Hope Walton loses her mom to an earthquake overseas, her secluded world crumbles. Agreeing to spend the summer in Scotland, Hope discovers that her mother was more than a brilliant academic, but also a member of a secret society of time travelers. Trapped in the twelfth century in the age of Eleanor of Aquitaine, Hope has seventy-two hours to rescue her mother and get back to their own time. Along the way, her path collides with that of a mysterious boy who could be vital to her mission . . . or the key to Hope’s undoing.

All Our Yesterdays by Cristin Terrill

Em is locked in a bare, cold cell with no comforts. Finn is in the cell next door. The Doctor is keeping them there until they tell him what he wants to know. Trouble is, what he wants to know hasn't happened yet. Em and Finn have a shared past, but no future unless they can find a way out. The present is torture - being kept apart, overhearing each other's anguish as the Doctor relentlessly seeks answers. There's no way back from here, to what they used to be, the world they used to know. Then Em finds a note in her cell which changes everything. It's from her future self and contains some simple but very clear instructions. Em must travel back in time to avert a tragedy that's about to unfold. Worse, she has to pursue and kill the boy she loves to change the future.

Summer of Yesterday by Gaby Triana

Summer officially sucks. Thanks to a stupid seizure she had a few months earlier, Haley’s stuck going on vacation with her dad and his new family to Disney’s Fort Wilderness instead of enjoying the last session of summer camp back home with her friends. Fort Wilderness holds lots of childhood memories for her father, but surely nothing for Haley. But then a new seizure triggers something she’s never before experienced—time travel—and she ends up in River Country, the campground’s long-abandoned water park, during its heyday. The year? 1982. And there—with its amusing fashion, “oldies” music, and primitive technology—she runs into familiar faces: teenage Dad and Mom before they’d even met. Somehow, Haley must find her way back to the twenty-first century before her present-day parents anguish over her disappearance, a difficult feat now that she’s met Jason, one of the park’s summer residents and employees, who takes the strangely dressed stowaway under his wing. Seizures aside, Haley’s used to controlling her life, and she has no idea how to deal with this dilemma. How can she be falling for a boy whose future she can’t share?

Steel by Carrie Vaughn

A mysterious broken sword transports a modern teen through time to the deck of a pirate ship. Stranded in the past, and surrounded by strangers, she is forced to sign on as crew. But a pirate's life is bloody and brief, and as she learns about the dark magic that brought her there, she forms a desperate scheme to get home—one that risks everything in a duel to the death with a villainous pirate captain!

Wildwing by Emily Whitman

When Addy is swept back in time, she couldn't be happier to leave her miserable life behind. Now she's mistaken for Lady Matilda, the pampered ward of the king. If Addy can play her part, she'll have glorious gowns, jewels, and something she's always longed for the respect and admiration of others. But then she meets Will, the falconer's son with sky blue eyes, who unsettles all her plans.

From shipwrecks to castle dungeons, from betrothals to hidden conspiracies, Addy finds herself in a world where she's not the only one with a dangerous secret. When she discovers the truth, Addy must take matters into her own hands. The stakes? Her chance at true love . . . and the life she's meant to live.

#31 days of quietya #ya books #this is your mod speaking #time travel #quietya #book list

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tightropenuzlocke · 5 years ago

Text

Tightrope: a Y Storylocke

Chapter Two: A Gift and a Curse to the Wilderness

Side by side, the resemblance between Grace and Aisling was much stronger, though contrast still existed. Grace was more compact in person than Xoana remembered her, especially next to her daughter who was a head taller and long of limb. But she was just as vivacious and quick to laugh as she’d always been on TV, and had a natural ease about her where Aisling felt high-strung even with the breezy exterior. They smiled the same though—radiating enjoyment and just a hint of mischief.

“Shall we get goin’ then?” It was kind of adorable how Aisling’s accent got stronger around her mother.

“Yeah!”

Aisling gave Grace one last kiss goodbye before practically shoving Xoana out of the front garden to stop their stream of polite farewells. Her Chespin waved frantically until they were round the corner out of sight. The Rhyhorn bellowed after them.

“I always do, Raleigh!” Aisling shouted back.

The Fletching circled them once and landed on Aisling’s shoulder. They crossed the road Xoana would have usually taken to Neuvartault to head for the old route instead. It felt odd to walk instead of drive, but that was the tradition for trainers.

“I thought we’d never get out of there,” said Aisling with a big sigh, but that was all for show.

Xoana wished she could be as genuinely appreciative of the smothering her own parents had poured over her earlier. Of course she had returned all of their “I love you’s” and gave them both the best hug she could muster, but all the while she had been thinking about how to slip out the door.

And here was Aisling trying not to smile at the twittering bird on her shoulder.

“So, can you talk with your Fletchling?”

“The trick is getting him to shut up.” The Fletchling in question cheeped angrily at that and buffeted Aisling’s ear with his wing. “After Cináed found us we battled together for a while until the understanding set in. Same with Raleigh. That’s how I got into training.”

“That’s really cool! Makes sense too. I always thought it was sort of odd to live with pokemon if you can’t talk to them.”

“Didn’t make sense to me either.”

Something tapped Xoana’s leg and she stopped. Froabble looked up at her with his big yellow eyes and blinked—first one eye, then the other.

“Want to come up?” she offered.

He silently inflated the bubbles above his nose once and it seemed like that was all the answer she was going to receive. He’d barely made so much as a peep since she got him. Maybe he would talk more after the understanding activated or perhaps he was simply quiet by nature. She hefted him and held him in her arms.

Aisling waited ahead of them on the footpath to Quarellis. Dozens of these ancient, well-worn trails snaked across the region, maintained to this day for trainers to journey along. This one was wide and sunny, lined with razz berry bushes and stately old apricorn trees. Xoana used to come out here sometimes with her siblings to gather them but not for some time, she realized, not since Clément moved out.

Xoana skipped to catch up. “So, My Queen, did you ever ride like your mom?”

“Oh yeah, I was riding before I could sit up in the saddle. One of my main jobs on our ranch was ‘breaking in’ the baby Rhyhorn.” Xoana inferred from the exaggerated air quotes that this was an outdated term. “It was more like breaking me with how often I got thrown. See, the calves have plenty of power in their charge right out of the shell, but they have to learn form and follow through or you just get launched.” She illustrated this by slapping her hands together and shooting one away from her.

“Wow, that seems dangerous.”

“Eh, a bit,” Aisling shrugged. “It’s not so bad if you wear the gear.”

The way she said it made Xoana think she hadn’t always worn the gear.

“That’s still pretty hardcore.”

“Yeah, I was super into it as a kid and it’s still fun, but it’s not really me anymore.”

Xoana wasn’t sure it was best to probe any further yet. “I guess things come and go. I used to be really into architecture and interiors. Mega nerdy, I know!”

“A little,” Aisling acknowledged. She looked off into the distance, clearly thinking about something, so Xoana let her. Bree bounded ahead, chasing a leaf. Xoana adjusted Froabble in her arms, but there was no way to be comfortable anymore. Maybe she should work out more.

“Do you mind hopping for a bit, Froabble? My arms are getting tired.”

They were getting into town and the Froakie looked down at the cobblestones with distaste. Instead of jumping down, he clambered up over her shoulders and installed himself like a backpack. She giggled.

“That works!”

Quarellis was always a little sleepy right after school let out. The children had dispersed and the tourists who came to see an authentic, old Kalos town had yet to arrive. Most of the shops were closed for a week or two to take a break and outfit themselves for the next season. Froabble leaned over her shoulder a bit to get a better look at the fountain in the square and the Buizel and Panpour playing in it, but stayed where he was.

At this hour, most of the town’s activity was centered around the café they’d met at yesterday and they went in for a boost. Bree bounced excitedly in front of the pastry case when she was given license to select her own treat from the pokemon-friendly offerings and Froabble used his tongue to indicate his choice before the Chespin had even begun to decide. Cináed, meanwhile, eschewed the café’s goods in favor of a sunflower oatcake from Aisling’s pocket. Aisling took her coffee black and got a brioche for herself. She laughed at Xoana’s hot chocolate and croissants but people who thought those breakfast choices were reserved for children were wrong and their souls were shriveled from self-imposed suffering. No one liked black coffee, not really. They were addicts, masochists, liars beyond all hope of redemption.

Aisling was out the door before Xoana had her in stitches. The pokemon were confused but kept pace as Xoana hurried onward so as not to further annoy the grouchy patrons on the patio. Aisling shambled with mirth a half-step behind her and shed a single tear, utterly defeated.

“You make a solid point,” she said when she no longer had to gasp for breath.

Xoana’s steps became bouncy enough to make Froabble finally jump ship—and probably not from the direct line of sugar and caffeine she had just ingested.

They reached the footbridge on the far end of town and Froabble climbed the railing to look down at his reflection in the glassy water. Flashes of white and orange and the occasional ripple of a horn breaching the surface spoke of Goldeen swimming below. Froabble pointed them out to Bree, who fit her head through the bars to look and very nearly got stuck. Instead she landed on her butt and endured something that sounded a lot like snickering from Cináed.

The bridge ended in the hardened earth of the trail that lead through Neuvartault Forest. The dark mass of trees took up most of the horizon to the north, but for the time being the path ambled through tall grass and bushes. A brook that fed the river ran nearby and it’s burbling mixed with the shuffling of the breeze.

Froabble croaked to get her attention and pointed to the water. Should she let him swim? He did need to stay damp but…

“Cináed can watch him,” Aisling reassured her.

The Fletchling and Froakie took off towards the water and Bree stayed behind to guard Xoana and Aisling—a position she took seriously judging by the way she scouted ahead and kept her ears up. There were plenty of wild pokemon about, but none approached them, so the filled the time with conversation. Aisling was surprisingly easy to talk to—not that Xoana ever had much trouble in that department. But she was fun and Xoana didn’t have to work at it. It used to be that way with Serena too.

“So, how long have you known Serena and the others?” The mention of Serena’s name made Xoana worry she’d shared that last thought aloud. But Aisling’s tone was one of failed nonchalance, not prying at an unwitting admission. Xoana let herself feel just a little smug that she had correctly diagnosed anxiety as the motive for Aisling’s coup.

“My mom and Serena’s are friends so we’ve known each other pretty much forever. Hanging around her mom’s gym all the time is what got me interested in pokemon. My parents don’t care for them all that much.”

“Not everyone can be so enlightened.” She was quick with those light, playful jabs.

“We met Tracie and Tierney in primaire. They were already sorta joined at the hip so when I started hanging with Tierney cos of dance, Tracie got pulled into the group.”

“Do you still dance?”

“No,” Xoana sighed, “but it was fun.”

Cináed flew back to them and Froabble emerged from the grass as they neared the trees.

“She started early,” Aisling observed. “She must be pretty good.”

“Tierney’s amazing! She won’t tell you, but she can turn it up!”

“I’ll just have to lure it out of her then.” It might be nice to have some help with Tierney. “Tracie too.”

Oh, right, Tracie. “Um, take your time with her,” Xoana cautioned.

“I will.” She sounded sincere and well-meaning, but the ease and rapidity of her assurance still gave Xoana pause. She wondered if warning her further was wise or if it would only make her more curious.

Xoana’s inner debate was abruptly cut short by a sharp cry from Cináed, who plummeted to the forest floor, wings bound by a thick webbing.

Before they could ask if he was alright, he burned off the bindings with an Ember and wheeled to face his assailant. It was a Scatterbug, but creamy white rather than gray and sparkling where the sunlight hit it—her by the short length of her ruff. A shiny! Xoana could barely believe it. She’d never seen one in person before, not of any species. The Scatterbug took one look at them all and flattened the feelers on the crown of her head. Cináed cheeped angrily and she shrank away from him, but the root at her back prevented further retreat.

“Get ’em Cináed!” Aisling cheered. There was power and excitement in her clenched fists and a light in her eyes as bright as her prey’s glitter.

The Scatterbug shot and missed as Cináed leapt upward with one powerful downsweep. He landed on the Scatterbug’s back and delivered a sharp Peck to her head. She wiggled weakly for a moment, unable to escape, and then prostrated herself in defeat. Cináed only just dodged Aisling’s ball. It barely moved before the telltale green flash confirmed the catch.

“Yes!” Aisling cried and jumped to pick it up. “This one’s got fight in her! Good work, Cináed!”

The Fletchling gave her a little bow and twittered as he flew back to her shoulder. Aisling laughed and hitched the new ball to her belt.

“I can’t believe you caught a shiny! They’re so rare!” Xoana stammered. “And your first catch too.” She almost asked Aisling to let the pokemon back out right then and there, but she supposed she wouldn’t have to wait too long.

“Just lucky, I guess.” She shrugged, but there was a knowing quality to her smile that drew Xoana in. Aisling cocked her head and turned that smile on Xoana. “Why don’t we find a first catch for you too, Marquise? It’ll be a fun surprise for the rest of the crew.”

“Yeah!”

Xoana, Aisling and their trio of pokemon spread out to search, ranging around the woods but never wandering out of sight and hearing of one another. There were at least as many pokemon here as there were in the fields—probably more—but Xoana only caught glimpses and snatches further confused by the dappled light. She hadn’t been under the canopy of Neuvartault Forest in years and it was good to be back. The smell of lichen, dirt, and rotting leaves brought back her outings with Serena. They had built little houses for the wild pokemon and climbed trees and sent bark boats down the brook all while her mother’s Masquerain hovered overhead.

Froabble climbed up a tree to get a better vantage and the Pidgey resting there scattered before Xoana could challenge them. Was it always this difficult to find a wild pokemon willing to battle?

“Marquise!” Aisling called, “I think I found one!”

Xoana hopped a log in her haste and found that Aisling and Bree had pinned a Teddiursa against a berry bush. The pokemon had purple stains around her mouth and on her paws from the meal they had interrupted, but didn’t seem all that perturbed about being cornered. She looked from Aisling to Xoana and chuffed.

“So cute!” Xoana whined.

“Catch her then,” said Aisling in amusement.

“Right! Froabble use Pound!”

The Froakie hopped forward and the Teddiursa put up her juice-soaked mits. Froabble lassoed one with his tongue and wrenched the Teddiursa off her feet. He jumped on her head with both feet and Xoana flinched, but the Teddiursa threw him off and went after him with Scratch.

Xoana fretted for a moment about what he would do before remembering that it was her job to direct him.

“Bubble, Froabble!”

The attack knocked the Teddiursa on her butt and Xoana threw a ball. It rocked twice and was still.

“Nice catch, Marquise!”

Xoana clutched the ball tightly.

“Good job, Froabble! You did great!” Froabble gave her a ribbit. “I think this Teddiursa had the right idea though. Let’s have some lunch.”

They selected a small, nearby clearing carpeted in flowers for their picnic and leaned back against a mossy, fallen trunk. The Teddiursa picked more berries along the edge and came back with an armful to share. Bree eagerly took her up on the offer and Cináed had some with the seeds Aisling brought for him. Froabble busied himself with a nest of termites in one end of the log while the Scatterbug nibbled a leaf on the other end where the shade dulled her glimmer. Aisling and Xoana gabbed and worked their way through the cheese and charcuterie they brought along.

“What are you going to call your Scatterbug?”

“Dáire, I think,” Aisling answered between bites. “It means ‘fruitful’ in Gaeilge.”

“Tierney said Bree means ‘power.’ Going for an auspicious theme?”

“It’s tradition,” Aisling said simply. “What about you? What will you call your Teddiursa?”

Xoana had to think about that for a moment. She whistled and the Teddiursa looked at her.

“How do you like Tessa?”

The Teddiursa cocked her head and Cináed tweeted something to her—perhaps a translation. She smiled and toddled over to climb into Xoana’s lap, then set to licking her paws clean. Xoana scratched her between the ears and she made a chortling purr in response.

“Tessa it is then.”

Xoana looked up to see Aisling, head in hand and smiling at her.

“You’re adorable.”

“Me or the bear cub?” Xoana tried not to sound too invested in the answer.

“Both,” said Aisling after a moment’s deliberation. “You have a way with them too.”

“I don’t know,” said Xoana, looking down at the fuzzy creature melting into her arms. “I think this one might just be really tame.”

“No, you’ve got the touch, right Cináed?” He twittered. “See?”

Xoana wanted to joke or argue that the Fletchling could be saying exactly the opposite for all she knew, but something deeper wanted to just accept the compliment. The two urges battled for a quiet moment and Aisling pounced on the pause.

“That was a great first catch.”

The insolence—how dare she say something so idiotic after her first catch had been a shiny!

“It’s not like I told Froabble to pull that cool move with his tongue. I almost forgot to do anything at all.”

“You were nervous, sure, but you kept your head. Most people don’t until they’ve had some more practice—and I don’t mean school. Doing all this stuff out in the wild is totally different. There’s real stakes to it.”

“I guess so.”

Xoana expected it to stop there, for Aisling to be mollified by her acceptance. Instead she tilted her head to catch Xoana’s wandering gaze and pressed onward.

“You’ve got a natural connection and that has a ton of potential. I think whatever you decide, you’ll go far.”

All Xoana could muster in response was a weak laugh as her heart threatened to beat right through her chest and sent her head spinning. Apparently she was susceptible to flattery. That was… useful to know.

“Care to test that theory?”

Wait, what was she doing? Was she flirting back? Was Aisling flirting with her in the first place?? That grin of hers seemed to suggest so, but maybe it was just a standard sort of playful? When did she get so close? Close enough that Xoana could smell her shampoo: honey, pear and myrrh. Was that a friendly lean? A relaxed arm across the log by her shoulder? Was she even gay?

“You want to battle?” Aisling asked for clarification.

“Yeah!” Koffings and Voltorb! She’d blown it sky high—crashed that momentum right into a barrier not even a Rhyhorn could plow through. Wait, no, on second thought the enthusiasm made for great cover. “It’ll be fun!”

Aisling got to her feet. “One v one? Starter versus starter?”

“You’re on!”

Aisling offered her hand and Xoana almost forgot to move Tessa off her lap before accepting it. Xoana swayed from the vertigo. Aisling touched her arm to steady her but if anything that made it worse. She had to get a grip!

“You ready for a battle, Froabble?”

He ribbitted and hopped to her.

“Up and at ‘em, Bree! It’s our first official match!” The Chespin hurried over as Aisling paced back to make room for the fight. “Cináed, make sure Dáire watches.”

Cináed tweeted at the Scatterbug and she nearly jumped out of her skin, but she put the rest of her leaf down and turned to watch.

Froabble gathered his hind legs under him and Bree lowered herself in preparation.

“Pound, Froabble!” Someone move, please!

“Vine Whip, Bree! Snag one of his legs!”

Froabble was shockingly fast—too fast for Bree—but she received the kick to her jaw like a pro boxer and lashed out with a vine from her wrist.

“Get out of there!”

But Froabble was well ahead of her and already leaping back. Xoana never saw the opening, but Bree didn’t miss it. She lassoed Froabble’s right leg, causing him to fall. With a high cry, she grabbed her vine in both paws, tossed Froabble over her head, and smashed him into the ground on the other side of her.

“Froabble!”

Incredibly he got up and took the only avenue left—straight at his opponent.

“Block!” was all Aisling had time to get out before they collided.

Bree got her arms up in time for Froabble to backflip off them. She staggered but found her feet before the next kick and ducked.

“Swing him!”

Bree grabbed her vine again, swung Froabble around like she was competing in the hammer throw, and flung him back at Xoana.

He landed heavily in front of her and rolled onto his face.

“Froabble?”

He gave her the thumbs up but stayed down. She let out the breath she was holding.

“We give!” she called to Aisling.

Bree turned back to her trainer for approval.

“You did great!” said Aisling, crouching down to her pokemon’s level. “Bring it in!”

They bumped fists and Bree wiggled her claws with Aisling this time, looking fit to burst all the while.

Xoana nearly tripped over her messenger bag and snatched it up to fish out a potion and spray bottle. Froabble had peeled himself off the ground in the meantime and she sprayed him down with water first so that he was clean and damp before she applied the potion.

Aisling had a cloth for Bree and tended her outstretched paws, which looked a bit raw from the vine.

“You two were awesome!” she declared enthusiastically. It took Xoana a moment to process that Aisling was looking right at her.

“Hey! I’m supposed to say that! You won!”

“Only because we stole Froabble’s sick move though.”

“That’s true.” She had to accept that one—for her starter’s sake. “Bree can really take a hit.”

“Chespins are tough nuts to crack. I can’t believe Froabble got up after that first slam.”

“Me neither.”

“All it took was your voice calling him.” Aisling squared up to her, leaned in, and tilted her head down to meet Xoana’s eyes, to make sure she was paying attention and wouldn’t look away. “See, now that’s what I was saying before. You’ve had him for twenty-four hours and you’ve already got a bond. That’s something else.”

Xoana blinked and tried to swallow, but her mouth was too dry. “Thanks,” she forced out—and it felt good. It felt really good. “I wish I had your instincts.”

“That’s practice. You’ll get there.”

Xoana looked down and Froabble smiled up at her.

“Thank you for the match by the way.” Aisling extended her hand.

Xoana took it. “You’re welcome. We should do it again sometime”

The contact lingered—noticeably so. Xoana checked for any sign that Aisling wanted to let go and found none.

“I meant to ask yesterday, but where did you get that lipstick you’re wearing?”

“It’s NAC Aura. Why? Did you want to try it?”

Okay, that was innuendo. There was no way she meant that innocently, not when she said it like that—like she was offering Xoana another bite of her mother’s smoked Gruyère.

What should she do now? Should she escalate it? Was that a good idea? They were sort of like co-workers weren’t they? If something went wrong it would make trouble for everyone. On the other hand, Aisling was gorgeous and Xoana never had an opportunity like this before.

Cináed cheeped and Aisling let go of her hand, laughing at whatever he said.

Without Aisling’s eyes and touch muddling Xoana’s brain, she realized that was probably for the best.

...

The hills east of Neuvartault were bright and lush in the heat of the afternoon. The river was narrower here and rushed through rapids down below them. There wasn’t much out this way and Aisling reminded herself to savor the waving grass and open sky, drink her fill of the calm and quiet. Soon her life would become all gray stone, bustle, and hum.

Unsurprisingly Serena had been very eager to set out this morning after Aisling and Xoana had shown up to dinner last night with new pokemon. Now she was nowhere in sight, having long since struck out on her own. Tierney and Tracie were still nearby on the next rise with Valériane striding beside them, looking for specimens to log. Between Tracie’s strawberry blond bob and Tierney’s stark patchwork vitiligo, they were easy to keep track of.

Aisling should have been watching her pokemon, but her eyes kept wandering to wherever Xoana was. Once again it was worth the glance. Xoana hopped up and down with glee as one of her pokemon took down yet another opponent. Aisling loved the bounce of those girlish tails, how every twist was its own spring, storing and releasing that boundless energy or hers. She looked almost unbearably soft and warm in the pinking light and Aisling resolved to make some excuse to swagger over to her.

“Hey, Aisling!” Cináed swooped around her, snapping her back to the reason she was actually out here.

Her new Azurill had bounced a ways ahead and she shielded her eyes to better make out the sandy shape she was confronting. The pokemon was flat with a pointed tail and turquoise stripes.

“A Dunsparce! Good work, Emer!” Cináed alighted on her shoulder, his job done, and Bree emerged from the grass to see what the fuss was about. “Careful, they’re flighty.”

The Azurill hopped off her tail and crept closer. The Dunsparce looked from her to Aisling and charged, round eyes glowing red. Emer went sailing right over her tail and landed at Aisling’s feet. Dáire ducked behind Aisling’s leg.

“Not this one,” Aisling muttered. Excellent. “Emer use Tail Whip!”

The little Azurill jumped clear of the Dunsparce’s next charge and smacked it with the buoyant orb on the end of her tail. The blow had little effect, which made Emer take a nervous step back, but Aisling saw the telltale shimmer of the Dunsparce’s magic defenses being ripped away.

“Again, Emer!”

The Azurill did as she was told, but the gamble couldn’t hold out forever and the Dunsparce’s next strike hit home. Emer was briefly airborne before disappearing into the tall grass. Cináed took off after her so Aisling turned to her starter.

“Bree, you’re up!” The Chespin planted herself in front of Aisling, cracking her knuckles. “Vine Whip!”

The Dunsparce’s glowing eyes blurred with the speed of its charge, but Bree smacked it aside with a vine. It whirled on her but she repeated the maneuver and then grabbed its tail with another vine and flipped it. Bree pounced on its exposed belly, but didn’t need to. The light of Rage was fading from its eyes.

“Nice work!”

Bree stepped off and the Dunsparce righted itself in time to see Aisling’s ball. Its fin-like wings flared before being swallowed by red light. The Dunsparce did not break out and Bree handed the ball up. Emer wobbled back out of the grass as Aisling perused the catch info on her holocaster.

“You did good too, newbie. Come get a potion.”

Emer didn’t seem to understand exactly what that meant, so Aisling gave Bree a small spritz first. The Chespin leaned in and shook, making a show of how nice it was, then beckoned the Azurill over. Aisling clicked the Dunsparce’s ball and let her out first. She scooted closer and fluttered her wings, letting out a stuttering hiss. It was difficult to read the serpentine creature’s expression, but she seemed happy enough and Bree chittered warmly back.

A shadow passed over as Aisling finished spraying them down. It was Xoana, smiling shyly down at her. Aisling hadn’t found anything conclusive as yet, but she had a feeling and her instincts were rarely wrong.

“How do you like Gobán?” she said, gesturing to her latest catch. The Dunsparce spun a circle.

“So cute! Though not as cute as this little Azurill,” she said, snatching up the pokemon and snuggling her.

Emer let out a purring chirrup and rubbed her cheek against Xoana’s. Aisling couldn’t be sure of what she was saying, so she decided to fill in the gap.

“Are ya sure ya en’t talkin’ about your—”

“The pokedex says Dunsparce are quite rare.”

Aisling wanted to be annoyed at Tracie for messing up her line, but this was the first time she had said anything without being prompted, so she let it slide.

“Does it now? I’ve seen a few before, but they are elusive.”

“Nice catch, My Queen,” said Tierney “Dunsparce are supposed to be lucky, aren’t they?”

Very lucky. “I suppose so.”

“I caught a Riolu.” The pokemon stepped around her legs to greet them. “Gonna name him Laoch.”

“And a fine name it is.” Aisling was a bit surprised one would appear to Tierney, but she still had a lot to learn about her new friends.

“I caught a Fletchling!” Serena was back. “Should be helpful for the first gym.”

Aisling cast upward first, but the bird in question emerged from the grass behind Serena’s Fennekin.

“Wait, are all of these yours?” Serena asked, tracing a circle around Aisling’s team with a swirl of her finger.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“You didn’t tell me your Scatterbug was shiny!” she shrilled, pointing and covering her gaping her mouth.

“I’ve been lucky.”

Serena blinked several times and looked on the verge of demanding an explanation Aisling wasn’t going to give. Instead she said: “battle me.” In the time it took that to register, Serena corrected herself. “Why don’t we have a battle? We haven’t had any proper matches yet.”

“Marquise and I battled yesterday, but sure. Two v two?”

Ending with the question made it tough for Serena to go back to the first item, though her eyebrows were clearly signalling her desire to do so.

“Yes, of course.” She gave her head a little shake and paced across the open space to make room for the battle. “Justine.” She pointed and her Fletching hopped nervously forward while her Fennekin sat primly by her side.

Cináed peered suspiciously at the Fletching from his perch in a nearby bush, but said nothing.

“Want another go, Emer?”

Xoana reluctantly put the Azurill back down. She bounced forward on her tail and bobbed up and down while she waited.

Serena gave Aisling a sharp look, probably an attempt to discern if she was being dumb or arrogant, and Aisling made an after you gesture.

“Tackle!” The intensity that was always simmering beneath Serena’s surface flared to life.

Aisling couldn’t help but smile as she ordered Emer to meet it.

The Azurill’s Water Gun went wide as Serena’s Fletchling dashed to the side and scratched Emer with her claws. Maybe she wasn’t ready to win her own battles just yet, but she could make them easier for her teammates. Aisling had her change tack and go for Tail Whip instead.

This time she hit her opponent right in the… nose? Yes, a small black nose attached to a dark-furred pokemon with a short, bushy tail and reddish paws.

Aisling looked to Serena for an explanation, but she seemed equally confused if not more so.

“A Zorua!” Tracie exclaimed. “They’ve only been reported in the deepest parts of the Winding Woods. Though, I guess that Illusion ability would make them difficult to catalogue.”

The Zorua glanced nervously back at Serena’s Fennekin, almost hiding behind her own tail. Félicité’s ears were pinned back and her bottlebrush tail stood on end, but she looked up to her trainer.

“Oh,” she said smartly. “It seems I caught a Zorua.”

“Cool.” That wasn’t much smarter but whatever. “Are we gonna finish this battle?”

“Yes! Justine use—use your dark-type attack!” Not bad for being flustered.

The Zorua seemed almost as shocked to be asked to continue, but leapt back in with enthusiasm. The dark-type move in question happened to be Feint Attack, which meant that Emer didn’t stand a chance. Justine disappeared in a puff of dark mist and reappeared beside her as she struck. Emer scurried back to Xoana’s waiting arms.

Aisling sent in her Chespin without a moment’s hesitation and had Bree cover her more vulnerable underside to receive the next attack, before trussing up the tricky little creature with Vine Whip until she gave.

Félicité was not as easily ensnared and forced Bree back with Ember. The fire was lovely, to be sure, but Aisling had to douse it. Serena sustained her second shock of the battle when Bree sprouted rocks over her body and went for Félicité like a boulder coming down a mountain. The little fox went tumbling and staggered to her feet only to be struck out as Bree came back around.

It was all over Serena’s face: she had never lost before. Aisling was only too happy to give her that sorely needed experience. Xoana’s eyes had blown wide and Emer hopped back out of her arms to congratulate her teammate. Tierney and Tracie looked rather shocked as well. At least they all knew now.

“That was one hell of a ride, no?” Serena blinked at her, holding her bruised Fennekin in her arms. “Thanks for the battle, Comtesse.”

“Of course,” was all she could muster.

“We’ve gotta work on that Rollout, Bree. I think you can turn tighter than that.”

Bree nodded seriously, dusting the remaining rubble off her arms.

“That was some battle!” said Tierney.

“You were both so great!” Xoana jumped in.

Aisling accepted the compliments, but Serena was still too far away. She kneeled and looked over her two battered pokemon as she sprayed them down with a potion.

“Maybe we should train for a while longer before we challenge the gym,” she told them.

Completely destroyed. If Aisling could have given herself a high five, she would have.

#nuzlocke #storylocke #pokemon y #Kalos #wlw #Tightrope #chapter

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thebrochtuarachs · 7 years ago

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Gotham’s Writing Workshop: Week 7 - Woe is All I Possess

Hello awesome people in the Outlander universe!

A/N: This is my first Outlander fic that I am posting in the world wide web. I am very nervous about this but I am rather empowered by @gotham-ruaidh‘s writing challenge and encouragement, everyone’s work as well in this exercise, so I decided to jump the gun. I wrote this in what is a rather dull work day today, so thanks to that I was able to write this short story. I hadn’t had anyone else see or proofread this before posting this, haven’t written (or even practiced writing) any fic in years so I am rusty at this - so all mistakes are mine and any comments/suggestions/violent reactions for improvement are most welcome. :) .

Woe is All I Possess

I was sitting in my desk, hacking through another edit on my book – a second of a trilogy about the Jacobites and the 45’ Rising. I’ve been at this the since three in the afternoon and I permitted myself to some well-deserved break. I put my pencil down, stretched my neck and grabbed my whisky from the coaster to my left.

The room was dark, except for the small light emanating from the lamp in my table and the clock’s ticking sound echoed around the room. I used to not notice it but now, its sound brings me dread and puts me in a trance with my thoughts. It was reminding me of my life passing by without really me really living it followed by a punch in the gut of the emptiness I suddenly felt in my soul.

I found him. Him. The man who my wife loves, the man who fathered her child.

I hadn’t meant to look or find him. Why would I? As far as I know, he asked Claire to forget him, I asked Claire to forget him and opening that door would just be tempting fate even more. But at the arrival of Colonel Hal Grey’s journals in my office - a gift from one of my Harvard colleagues in the hope that it will help in providing more insight in my book – had changed everything.

I had seen his name in his logs and what happened to him immediately after the war. The first entry mentioned him being sent home to the highlands with a grave injury, after that, curiosity got the better of me and I fell down the rabbit hole - chasing him through every note and paper trail I could locate - and now I know where he is. Ten years after the Battle of Culloden, I am certain that James Alexander Malcolm Makenzie Fraser is alive.

Should I tell Claire? It’s the question I’ve been asking myself back and forth for the last hour and a half. I remembered how crazy she ran through Reverend Wakefield’s books in the library hoping to find a sliver of his existence in the aftermath. If she knew of these documents currently in my possession, I have no doubt that she’ll run back to Scotland, take Bree with her, and find him without giving it second thought on what the state of his life is now. If she didn’t, she’d continue to live her and Bree’s life with me where everything is settled and familiar. Call it selfish, but I would say that I’m the latter option that looks like the lesser ”win-win” situation for the both of us – even if it mean probably living half a life forever.

Answering that, the next question I had is can I live with my selfish choice?

In choosing to be a historian, I thought that the details of the past meant the studying of lives lived and knowing their story to teach and educate the present – whether it’s for the influence of the good or the prevention of the bad. Moreover, accepting the consequences of history was at the inspection and discretion of the now and was never meant to directly touch.

However, thirteen years ago, history decided to play on my fortune. It took my wife, to her back two hundred years, to a time closest to my academic heart and expertise, only to return three years later, married and in love with another man and pregnant with a child that was supposed to be born and live in the 18th century.

With accepting Claire back came with a blessing and, if I was really going to be honest with myself, a curse.

Bree was an unexpected blessing in my life. I never thought I’d be able to love someone so wholly who was not my own flesh and blood and yet, the moment I held her in my arms, she crept her way to my heart. I could not, even for the all the hurt I feel, consider Bree a mistake but rather the complete opposite as she is the only one that keeps me going nowadays.

On the other hand, with her here, I was given a direct, tangible, and living reminder of the past – Claire’s past. Every movement Bree makes, every milestone she surpasses, every flicker of the eyes or toss of the hair, Claire would see him and weep.

One night, I came home late and decided to check on Bree before heading to our bedroom. I opened the door softly and saw Claire hunched over a sleeping Bree who nestled herself in the protective shield of her mother. With her elbows propped and her back to me, Claire didn’t seem to notice or feel my presence. I observed them for a while – hoping to make a sweet memory of my girls.

She was just looking at her, memorizing, caressing her hair away from her face and suddenly I saw her brush her hand through her nape that I knew would elicit a drowsy smile from Bree just as I discovered a few years ago. Claire gave a sad chuckle and said “Oh, you’re so much like your father”. She lied down and pulled Bree to her embrace and I abruptly left, stunned at her sudden revelation – not even bothering to close the door.

The clock continued to tick along with my running mind and thoughts. As soft as the sound, it felt like a scream with every movement of the hand. It was too much to handle. I walked over to my mantle and threw it across the room to a loud crash that broke the item into hundreds of irreparable pieces. I chuckled rather bitterly in the irony of my situation.

I downed my drink in one gulp and ran my hands through my face and hair. In the now absolute silence of my study in my Boston home, my mind had one thought: How the hell did I end up here?

You know how because you agreed to this. She gave you an out and you were too honorable to refuse. Said my conscience’s snarky reply.

“That’s what good men do” I said out loud to the universe in the faith that it would make it a little bit more true and alleviate the dismay I was feeling.

And it comes at the sacrifice of your own happiness. You did this and chose this for yourself.

I sat back down to my chair to try and calm my thoughts and assess my emotions. I looked up at the clock to see how long I have until Claire and Bree would arrive home but then remembered I no longer had a mantle clock. I opened the drawer to my right grabbed my monogrammed stainless pocket watch - a gift from Claire in the first year of our marriage. It was 6:50PM – I have, at least, ten minutes to compose myself.

I placed my elbows in the desk and held my head in it, closed my eyes, considering and allowing all my emotions to show and release itself. Love, hurt, joy, pain, good, bad - combining them all left me feeling one final sentiment: woe.

“Woe is all I possess” I muttered under my breath.

I let the tears building in my eyes to overflow and allowed himself to feel everything for the first time in a long time.

Woe in the realization that Claire would never be mine again, that she would never love me the way I see her love and devote herself to him even after all these years, that we’d settled in a life of domesticity for civility and show; woe in the realization that Bree – with her fiery red hair and blazing blue eyes - would never be thought by anyone as mine in any way, shape or form, that our bond would never be just ours forever when the time comes that she learns the truth about her real paternity; woe in the reminder of my own inability to sire children; woe in having to give in to affairs just to fill a physical and emotional void that will never or could never be truly filled again; woe in the knowledge that my family history is tainted by a darkness that made me slightly sorry that I found real, historical truth; woe that I had resorted in forcing Claire into an agreement to forget him and everything about that part of her life even though I knew it would break her spirit.

I needed protect myself and save myself a little dignity in this circumstance – even though it means forbidding a certain name to be mentioned in the next century.

Woe is all I possess.

So yes, I can and will live with my own selfishness.

I hadn’t heard the door open until Bree called me out.

“Daddy!” she ran towards my chair and hopped on my lap. “Look what we made in school today!”

Bree laid her artwork on his table - a rather exceptional profile of one of her classmates – as she rambled on how her teacher taught drawing techniques and said that her work was the best one in class.

I glanced up to find Claire at the doorway of my study staring at us. In another parallel universe of our lives, I’d see light and happiness in her eyes as I held what would have been our child. Looking at her, even I can’t deny the sadness and longing in her eyes as she imagined a life two hundred years back where her daughter is held by the man she loved who would’ve raised her if it wasn’t for the massive obstacle of history.

“Claire” I called out immediately putting her out of her trance.

“I’m making meatloaf for dinner. It will be ready in 30 minutes” she replied embarrassingly as she knew I caught her in moment faraway. I nodded as she left for the kitchen.

Woe is all I possess – but as long as Claire is cooking in the kitchen and Bree continues to talk about her day – there is still that small flicker of the life I once envisioned to be living. A small claim it might be but one I lay hold on even for a little while, just enough to push away the pain in my heart and move forward on to the next day and the next day and the next.

#hope you enjoy reading as much as i had fun writing #especially after so many years of not writing #gotham's writing workshop #week 7 #woe is all i possess #outlander #frank randall #This is the first time i wrote something about Frank for all the OL FF drafts I have - which totally surprised me #personal #holy moly i cant believe im doing this #cant believe i am posting this #here we go

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miraculoussideblog · 7 years ago

Text

The Purrrfect Proposal

Here is my @mlsecretsanta gift for @overworkedunderwhelmed. Enjoy some Post Reveal Adrientte Fluff (with a dash of crack)

Shout out to @queen-busybee for beta reading!

[AO3]

“Marinette, will you marry me?”

“Oh Adrien,” Plagg said in a high pitched voice. “I can’t marry you. But we could still be friends.”

“Shut up.” Adrien shoved the ring box into his pocket. “I’m already nervous enough as is, try not to make it worse.” He knew he would propose to Marinette the day they began dating almost a year ago. He was half tempted to propose after the first date, but he needed to do this right. The evening was planned to the minute. He reserved a private booth at the hottest restaurant in Paris, after a three course meal, they would take a leisurely walk around Paris. Then at the bottom of the Eiffel tower, the exact spot he fell in love with her, he would get down on one knee and pop the question. When she says yes, red and green fireworks will light behind them. That is, if he could go the whole night without proposing to her every time he looked into her eyes. But he jumped through a lot of hoops to get the permit for the fireworks. Those fireworks were going off at nine with or without him. He could wait a few more hours.

“The girl’s been in love with you for years, I’m positive she’ll say yes.” Plagg picked up a wedge of camembert from the counter and took a bite. “I just don’t know if all this extensive planning is worth it given your bad luck.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m just saying, the universe has a sense of humor. Believe me, I’ve seen many of my chosen, fumble when it comes to love. The fact that you actually got together with the ladybug miraculous holder is a miracle. It’s just a matter of time before all that bad luck comes back with a vengeance.”

“Why do I suddenly have a bad feeling about tonight?” Adrien dropped his head. “You jinxed it didn’t you?”

“Just stating the obvious.” Plagg finished off his wedge of cheese. “In the end, all that matters is that she says yes.”

“Thanks, I guess.” He checked his watch, their reservation was in less than an hour. He texted the Gorilla to meet him out front. “Well, wish me luck.” Adrien opened his jacket to let his kwami fly in his pocket.

“Good luck, you’re going to need it.

The Gorilla parked the car in front of Tom and Sabine’s Boulangerie Patissere to pick up Marinette. The bakery was closed for the night so Adrien went up to the side door and rang the bell. Tom Dupain towered over Adrien when he opened the door.

“Adrien, my boy,” Tom hugged him, nearly lifting him off the ground. “Or should I say son.” Tom put him down and winked.

“Not so loud Monsieur Dupain.”

“Marinette is still upstairs,” Tom led him to the living room. “And please, call me papa.”

“Thanks…Papa.”

“Try not to scare him off Tom.” Sabine walked into the living room with a try of tea. “It’s not official yet.”

“But it will be.” He wrapped his arm around Adrien’s shoulder. “Marinette’s been in love with him for ages. I’m surprised it took you so long to get together.”

“Well, everything happens for a reason,” Adrien smiled softly.

Accidentally finding out each other’s identities was the best thing that could have happened to them. One wrong turn and his life changed forever. Granted, they both freaked out at first. He was unsure of Marinette’s feelings at the time and was worried she only saw him as a friend. After a pep talk from Nino, a bouquet of roses, and a confession on her balcony, their fates were sealed.

“Would you like some tea?” Sabine poured a cup.

“No than-” Before her could turn her down, Sabine stumbled. The hot liquid hit his leg. “Ow!” He jumped up.

“I am so sorry,” Sabine took a paper town and handed it to Adrien.

“It’s all right,” he said through his teeth, fighting the pain.

“I’m ready,” Marinette’s voice came from above.

Adrien turn around. Marinette descended down the stairs practically glowing. Her light pink sweetheart neckline swing dress with white polka dots swished back and forth with each step. Her raven hair was tied up in an elegant braided bun. Two spiral curls framed her face. Her blue bell eyes shined bright the second she laid eyes on him

Adrien felt his heart slam against his chest. This was the woman he was going to marry. He almost forgot about his soaking wet pants. Almost.

“Adrien are you okay?” Marinette eyed his crotch.

“Yes.” He covered the wet spot with his pants. “Just tea, that’s all.”

“I hope you didn’t get burned,” Sabine said.

“I’m sure I’m fine,” Adrien said. “We should get going the reservation is at seven.”

“We still have some time, take off your pants in the bathroom. I’ll get a hairdryer,” Marinette headed back upstairs.

“I am so sorry,” Sabine said as they headed to the bathroom,

“It’s fine.” He smiled. “This will be a nice story to tell after the engagement.” Adrien shut the door behind him, removed his pants and handed them to Sabine through the crack in the door.

“This should only take a few minutes, hang tight.”

He shut the bathroom door and slumped against it. Plagg flew out of his pocket. “It’s begun.”

“Shut up Plagg, it was just a little tea.”

“That’s how it always start,” Plagg shrugged. “Next thing you know, you’re unconscious on the back of horsebox on your way to Newfoundland to be sold to the circus.”

“That’s oddly specific.” Adrien crossed his arms over his chest.

“I’m over five thousand years old, I’ve seen it all.”

“Well, it’s just one little blip. Maybe that’s all the bad luck I receive today.”

“Adrien,” Tom’s voice said from outside the door. “Here are you go, nice and dry.”

Plagg flew back into his jacket pocket. Adrien opened the door and took his pants. “Thank you.” He slipped on the pants. Thank God they were completely dry. He took a deep breath and exited the bathroom. “Thank you so much.” He hurried back to the living room. “We really need to get going. Thank you for the tea. I’ll make sure to have her back at a reasonable hour,” Adrien joked. He took Marinette’s hand and led her out the door. “Finally,” he sighed. He let Plagg out and kwami flew into Marinette’s open purse to join Tikki.

“I have some cheese bread in there for you,” Marinette said.

“Thank you,” Plagg replied. “Just glad to be out of that walking disaster’s pocket.”

“Shut up,” Adrien muttered.

“You okay, kitty?” Marinette said when they got into the car. She stroked his hair with her fingers, relaxing him a bit.

A small purr escaped him. “Sorry, it’s just been a crazy day.” He took her other hand and kissed fingers. “Being by your side makes it all better.”

“I love you.” She placed her head on his shoulder.

“I love you too.”

They sat there for a couple minute without saying a word. Just being in each other’s company was enough. He couldn’t wait to do this forever.

The car stopped. Adrien got out of the car first, walked to the other side and opened the door for his lady. “Who said chivalry is dead?” Marinette held out her hand. Adrien helped her up and closed the door. They entered the restaurant, with their arms linked. Adrien approached the hostess and smiled. “I have a seven o’clock reservation for Agreste.”

The hostess looked in her book and furrowed her brow. “I’m sorry Monsieur Agreste, I don’t have a reservation under your name.”

“That’s impossible,” Adrien said. “I’ve had this reservation for a year I confirmed this last week over the phone.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what to tell you. We’re booked for the night. I can try to fit you in on another date.” She flipped through her book. “It looks like we have an opening in January of next year.”

How could this be happening?

“It’s okay Adrien, we could eat somewhere else,” Marinette said.

Adrien sighed. They’ll have dinner at another restaurant, that wasn’t an issue. As long as he got her to the Eiffel Tower in time for the fireworks. He scheduled to light them at nine o’clock. He had to arrive right on time to make the moment perfect. He couldn’t let Plagg’s comments get to him, he had to stay positive. With Marinette by his side he’ll beat this bad luck.

Adrien and Marinette walked to the Italian Bistro across the street. It was one of their favorite go to date spots. The wait wasn’t too long, they were seated near the window and had a nice view. Adrien felt his luck turning around.

The waitress approached the table with a smile. “Hello my name is Bree, and I will be your server today. My interest you in our house Chianti.” She displayed the bottle. “The owners have in vineyard in Florence and make excellent wine.”

“Sounds delightful,” Marinette smiled.

Adrien held up his glass for Bree to pour at the exact moment she opened the bottle, knocking it out of her hand. The red wine spilled over the white table cloth. Marinette stood up to avoid getting a stain on her dress.

“I am so sorry.” Adrien got up, his pants, once again were soaked. “Bathroom?”

“Straight on to the right.” Bree pointed in the direction. “I’ll get this cleaned up and see if we could find you another table.”

Adrien took a step forward, the bottom of his foot caught his shoelace, sending him and toppling down. He brought the table cloth and everything on it down with him.

“Adrien!” Marinette carefully stepped around the shattered glass and water and helped him up. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” He put on a brave face. “I’ll pay for everything. It’s my bad.”

“Let my talk to our manager, we can try to reseat you.”

“No,” Marinette said. “We’re going home.”

“We can’t!” Adrien exclaimed.

“You’re soaking wet,” Marinette huffed. “Let’s just go back to your apartment. Order in and watch a movie.”

Adrien checked his phone. He only had an hour left before the fireworks. He couldn’t cancel now, he’d come this far. No. He’ll go home, get changed and they’ll head right back out to the Eiffel Tower.

“Fine,” Adrien sighed. We’ll stop by my apartment and I’ll clean up, but let’s not let our night end like this. We’ll head back out, grab a sandwich and take a walk. How does that sound?”

Marinette smiled. “Sounds lovely.”

“Excuse me.” A man dressed in black approached them. “I’m the manager, Jean. We can cover this broken glasses, but we’re going to need you to pay for the bottle of Chianti.”

“Of course.” Adrien reached in his jacket pocket for his wallet, but it wasn’t there. “Give me a second.” He checked his left pocket. His right. Nothing.

Wait.

Nothing.

Adrien’s eyes grew wide.

HE LOST THE RING.

“Shit,” he shouted, loud enough for everyone in the restaurant to hear. “I’m sorry. I uh… can’t find my wallet. Do you mind if I come back tomorrow and pay you. I can leave you my name and number.”

“I’m sorry, that is not an option. We’ve had issues in the past with customers who could not pay. I’m sure you’re a trustworthy guy, but you can’t leave until the bottle is paid for.”

“How much?” Marinette said, reaching inside her purse.

“No.” Adrien tried to stop her from pulling out her credit card. This was an all time low. He could not let Marinette do this.

“Two hundred euros,” the manager said.

“I can’t let you pay this for me, you’re still in school.”

“It’s fine.” Marinette handed the man her credit card. The manager took the card and headed back to the register.

“I’m going to pay you back.” Adrien said, defeated.

“Okay,” she nodded. “Let’s just get you home.”

Adrien eyed the ground where he fell. The ring box had to be there. The staff clean up the contents of the table. He couldn’t see the black box. The manager returned with the receipt a couple minutes later.

“Thank you,” he said after she signed.

“One second please,” Adrien told the the manager. “Marinette, can you head back to the car? I need to talk to the manager for a minute.”

“Sure.” She checked her phone. “My parents have been calling me nonstop for the past hour, I’ll call them back.”

“Great.” He watched as Marinette exited the restaurant. Once the coast was clear, he turned to the manager. “Can you check with your staff to see if they saw a black ring box?”

“Oh.” The manager’s eyes lit up. “You were going to propose. I’ll check it with my staff.”

“Thank you. I’m going to keep looking around the table.” Adrien dropped to his knees, careful to avoid any lingering glass shards. He searched the ground and any neighboring table for the ring. He must look like a fool, but he didn’t care. If he didn’t have the ring, this would all be for nothing. If they missed the fireworks he still would have proposed, but without the ring he’d have to wait even longer.

“Sir,” the manager said. “Unfortunately, no one saw a ring box on the floor. If you leave your name and number we will let you know if we do find something.”

“Thank you,” he frowned. He had to check across the street next. He wrote down his name and number on the napkin and handed it to a manger.

“Adrien Agreste?” The manager looked at the napkin puzzled. “Aren’t you a millionaire?”

“Yes.”

“And your girlfriend paid for the wine on the night you were going to propose.” The manager let out a long breath. “Yikes.”

“Thanks for rubbing it in. Goodnight,” Adrien left the restaurant. Marinette waited for him at the door.

“Adrien my–”

“Could you hold that thought for one minute? I’ll be right back.” He kissed her forehead.

Adrien sprinted across the street to the other restaurant. If it fell out of his pocket, it couldn’t have gone far. “Hi,” he stopped at the hostess’ podium.

“Can I help you?”

“Yes, I was wondering if anybody found a black ring box on the ground within the last hour?”

“What table were you at?” The hostess asked.

“I wasn’t at a table,” he sighed. “I was here about an hour ago, you couldn’t find my reservation.”

“Oh yes, now I remember.”

“You found the ring?” Adrien sighed in relief.

“No,” the hostess said. “I remember you coming in.” Her eyes grew wide. “Oh, you were going to propose here but we turned you away.” She sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. “Yikes.”

“Not the first time I’ve heard that today,” Adrien muttered. “So you didn’t see the ring?”

“No, but feel free to look.”

Adrien dropped on his hands and knees once again to search for this ring. He was soaked and covered in dirt, but he didn’t care. He had to find it. Plagg was right, he couldn’t escape the bad luck.

“Adrien,” Marinette’s voice came from behind him. “What are you doing?”

“Looking for my wallet.” He said quickly.

“That’s what I was trying to tell you. My father called. He said you left something at the house. He didn’t say what it was, but I’m pretty sure it’s your wallet.”

Of course, he took off his pants in the bathroom. It must have fallen out in there.

“Thank you.” He hopped back up. “Let’s go.” He led Marinette back to the car. But the doors were locked. The Gorilla was fast asleep in the driver’s seat. “Wake up,” Adrien tapped on the glass. The Gorilla didn’t stir. “Come on,” he muttered. He was so close. If he could make it to the bakery, skip changing clothes, they could make it on time. “Let’s take the subway.”

“You don’t have your wallet, and I didn’t bring cash.” Marinette sighed. “Let me try.” She tapped on the glass. The Gorilla stirred, his eyes slowly opened. When he finally registered what was going on, he unlocked the doors. Adrien and Marinette slid in the back.

“Change of plans. We’re heading back to Marinette’s.”

The Gorilla nodded and turned on the car. Adrien sighed in relief as the car heading in the right direction. He leaned his head on Marinette’s shoulder. “I’m sorry for acting weird today. But I promise I will make it up to you.”

“I’m just worried about you. This is the most stressed I’ve seen you since finals.”

“I’m getting hit with a massive amount of bad luck today. I haven’t had much since we began dating, but I guess this is a year’s worth of bad luck. Today of all days.”

“You’re fine.” She kissed the top of his forehead. “We’ll have a nice night in, me and you. No distractions, no bad luck.”

Adrien nodded. He’ll put a ring on her finger tonight, no matter what.

When the Gorilla parked outside of the bakery Adrien unbuckled his seat belt. “I won’t be long.” he kissed her cheek.

“You sure you don’t want me to come in?”

“Stay here, it will only take a minute.”

He got out of the car and ran up to the door. Tom answered right when he rang the doorbell.

“We are so sorry,” Tom said. “Sabine felt it in your pocket when you gave her your pants and forgot to put it back in. You left before we could give it back. I wanted to call, but we don’t have your number and I couldn’t for the life of me remember the name of the restaurant. But all is well right? I hope your night didn’t have to many bumps.”

“You have no idea.” Adrien checked inside the box to make sure the ring was in there. With his luck, he had to be careful. Thankfully. The ring remained in place. “Thank you. You are a lifesaver.” He closed the box and put it in his pocket. “By the way have you seen my wallet?”

“No,” Tom said. He thought for a moment. “Wait, you’re telling me you took my daughter out of an expensive meal to propose to her and you left your wallet at home. Don’t tell me she paid for the meal?” Tom crossed his arms over his chest.

Adrien winced. “Not exactly…”

Tom let out a long breath. “Yikes.”

“I know, I’ll pay her back. But first I have to get to the Eiffel tower. Fifteen minutes until the fireworks.”

“Good luck son.”

Adrien felt his stomach drop. Why did he have to say that? “Thanks.”

Adrien got back into the car. “Did you get your wallet?”

“No, but I got what I left behind.” Adrien leaned forward to the driver’s seat. “Change of plans, we’re going to the Eiffel Tower.��

Marinette pulled him back. “You need to change.”

“I’m mostly dry it’s fine. There is something I need you to see first.”

“All right.” Marinette nodded.

The Gorilla turned the keys in the ignition. The engine didn’t start. He tried a few more times before shaking his head.

No. No. No. This was no happening.

Adrien tried to remain calm in front of Marinette and think of a solution. Marinette had a nice view of the Eiffel Tower from her balcony. It still had significance, he could do this.

“Tell you what,” Adrien looked over at His love and smiled. “You’re right, I have been crazy stressed trying to make this night perfect and it all blew up in my face. I want to thank you for being patient with me. I love you so much.” He kissed her hand

“I love you too.”

“Let’s make some sandwiches and eat dinner on your balcony. How does that sound?”

“It sounds perfect.”

“Don’t you mean purrrfect?”

“Okay, I’m getting out of the car.” Marinette unbuckled her seatbelt.

“What did I say?” He laughed.

“Come on.” She held out her hand and helped Adrien out of the car.

They went back to the apartment and quickly explained their situation. Sabine whipped up some sandwiches and lemonade for them to being upstairs. Tom promised not to disturb them until they were ready.

Adrien finally sat down and took a bit of his sandwich. He didn’t realize how hungry he was. He scarfed down his food and chased it with the lemonade.

“Better?” Marinette asked.

“Much better.” he smiled.

Two minutes until the timer went off it was now or never.

He took Marinette’s hand and helped her up. “What are you doing?”

“Marinette I–” I drop of water hit his cheek. Was he crying? Another drop hit his hand. Thunder roared. The sky opened up and rain poured down on them.

“Let’s get inside.” Marinette tried to tug Adrien back inside, but he wouldn’t budge. “Adrien.”

“It’s funny,” he chuckled. “You said it was raining the day you fell in love with me. When I gave you my umbrella all four years ago. This is perfect.”

Both of their phones beeped. A sound they both knew too well. Marinette checked her phone. “Akuma attack, it’s not too from here.”

Adrien shook his head. “I’ve been waiting to do this for four years, Hawkmoth could wait four minutes.” Adrien got down on one knee.

“Adrien what’s going on?”

“Marinette, I had this whole speech planned out. It would have made a lot more sense if we were in front of the Eiffel Tower, but it don’t matter now. I’ll speak from the heart. You are the kindest, bravest most loving person I have ever known. I know we haven’t been dating long, but I knew from the moment I got tangled in your yo-yo we were meant to be together forever. We are two halves of the same whole. You are my best friend, my soulmate, my everything.” He opened the ring box. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” Marinette lead down and kissed him.

Thunder roared, chased by the sound of the fireworks in the distance. They couldn’t see it, but he didn’t care. She said yes!

Adrien stood up without breaking the kiss. The rain pounded on their faces. He finally went up for air. “May I?” He gestured to the ring. Marinette nodded. Adrien’s wet fingers pulled the ring out of the box so he could slip it on her finger.

The rain poured down more violently than before. His hair covered he eyes, he couldn’t see a thing. The ring slipped from his finger tips.

Marinette caught it before it hit the ground.

“Thank God,” he smiled.

“What can I say? I’m the luckiest girl in the world.”

#miracilous ladybug #mlsecretsanta 2k17 #adrienette #ml fanfiction #adrien agreste #marinette dupain-cheng

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therealvinelle · 3 years ago

Note

I haven't read "Life and Death" either, Fred is a "The Short Second Life of Bree Tanner" guy.

And interesting question, anon, these two are more similar than I'd thought about.

Fred's gift, explained

Fred was the gross guy in high school, and he makes you feel grossed out. You can't stand to be in his vicinity when he uses his gift, you have to get out of here. You can't tell that it's him making you feel that way, you just know that you suddenly feel like you dunked your head in someone's dirty sock collection while a bully poured toilet water over your head. It's the worst.

He's effectively able to protect himself and his friends (namely Bree) from infighting among the newborns, as their petty squabbles dissipate once they're too revolted with Life, the Universe, and Everything to continue.

His gift is to quite literally repel people.

Renata's gift, explained

Renata's gift, from the way I understand it, is the essence of when you were headed into another room to do something but once you're there you forget what that was.

You rush towards Aro to attack him, but once you're close to the guy you find yourself wandering aimlessly in another direction, wondering what you were doing. Your brain won't let you approach.

Her gift is to create an impenetrable psychic barrier, and she can extend this several metres.

A comparison

We only see Fred as a newborn, so who knows what he will be able to do with his gift given time and practice. From what we've seen, though, I would say we don't know for sure that he can create a barrier the way Renata can. We don't know how powerful he is, for one thing.

Could someone like Carlisle, infamous for how he can resist his bloodthirst, choke down his disgust and approach Fred? Could Corin use her gift to null out Fred's effect, so people were too content being where they were to care about the effect Fred had on them? Could a large crowd of people overwhelm him, lessening his effects? A lot of questions we don't know the answers to.

Renata, meanwhile, has a very clear function, and is quite powerful - otherwise people would be able to grit their teeth and continue walking towards Aro. Long distance gifts such as Jane's and Zafrina's would still imperil her, but she's the safest place to be in the world in terms of physical attacks.

I will say this, though, his gift is one that can be used as a shield. He is the only survivor from Victoria's newborn army for a reason. If he is powerful enough to be impenetrable like Renata then he is a powerhouse indeed.

I know he doesn't interest you much, but could you do a comparison of Fred's gift and Renata's?

I'm going to have to punt this one to @therealvinelle. See, I'm a heathen, and never read "Life and Death". I have only a vague concept of who Fred even is.

#fred #renata #twilight #twilight meta #twilight renaissance #the carnivorous muffin #thecarnivorousmuffinmeta #twilight gifts

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imagineclaireandjamie · 5 years ago

Text

The Knife.

Anonymous said to imagineclaireandjamie: Imagine Jamie’s reaction to Bree’s Swiss Army knife!

-- --- --

The blade shone, its bright metal glinting in the sun as he brought himself down eye to eye with the contraption.

“It’s a Swiss army knife,” She declared, “very sharp and incredibly useful. When I was packing to come,” Brianna began, a far off look in her eye, “I thought about what might be useful, what I might be able to bring for you and mamma that would assist you both.”

“And this is what ye thought best?”

“Well,” she continued, pulling the knife from its woody home and passing it over to him, “I know some of the implements won’t be useful for another few years...but there’s a hoof cleaner for the horses and some tools that will help you cut various materials. There’s even a wood saw! Quite versatile if you ask me.”

“Oh!” He exclaimed, pulling a few of the tools from the main hub of the knife.

“Mama can use some of them for her surgery too, it’s just very useful for both of you and I know when she came back to you she didn’t have much room for all of the things she wanted to bring with her.” “Aye, she’s mentioned a flushing toilet quite a few times.”

Brianna laughed, throwing her head backwards and letting her hair fan out over her back. “Definitely something she couldn’t have fit in one suitcase, that’s for sure.”

Jamie smiled as he watched his daughter. Taking the knife from him once more, she turned it onto its back and showed him the tiny engraving. Rubbing her finger across the raised section, she let her nail catch in the first letter. “See?” Cocking her head to the left, she made sure he was looking. “I had your initials scribed onto its base, it’s more personal that way.”

“What would ye have done had you no’ come back, lass?” He replied quietly.

“Kept it, of course. I mean, I had it done when I knew I was coming back. But had it fallen through for whatever reason I would have just kept it as a memento that you and mama were together...and happy.”

“Tell me about this wee thing then…” changing the subject, Jamie took her hand, holding the gift between them. “Who came up wi’ the name and what does it have to do with a *swiss*?”

“Swiss actually relates to the country Switzerland, I believe - though they were first manufactu...I mean, made in Germany. I think they were first customised in the late 1800’s but they didn’t become highly sought after until the great war. The original name is, will be, Victoriox. Swiss army knife is just, sort of, a nickname I suppose”

“The great war being the one yer mam served in? When she was a nurse?”

“That’s the one.” She said proudly.

“This one seems fairly old, aye? Ye havena purchased it from new, have ye?”

Kicking a few pieces of discarded wood that lay at her feet, Bree recalled the moment she had found the knife, boxed and hidden in amongst a myriad of historical papers that she had mistaken for her fathers at the time. Intrigued by the collection, she had whipped the tattered tape that was sagging around the edges and had found the knife buried in a piece of yellowed paper.

“It was Great-Uncle Lambs. Mama used to tell me stories of their adventures together when I was little; which is how I first recognised it. He left it to her along with some other bric-a-brac. I think it was the only item she actually kept - other than some personal research papers they’d worked on together during her teenage years.”

“Christ, Brianna…”

HIs eyes were filled with tears, his voice lower than usual making the way he said her name seem more intense somehow - she still loved the way his intoned his ‘r’s’ making them last one beat longer than normal.

“...yer mam will love it.”

“I was a little shocked when I first came across it, I thought it was one of those treasured items she’d never leave behind.”

“Claire always has her reasons. She hasna forgotten a gift or a memory since I’ve kent her so I’m certain she meant for ye to have it.”

“Quite possibly. And now I mean for you to have it back. Honestly, it’ll be one of the most useful things you can carry with you. Remember all the bother you find yourself in,” she jested, prodding him softly in the side, “now you’ll have a device that is helpful in all manner of ways, and special to mama.”

-- --- --

A little later, sitting on the porch with the knife tucked carefully in his pocket, Jamie sat looking up at the stars, his dinner resting nicely in his stomach.

“Did you and Bree manage to empty any of the traps out there?” Claire asked softly as she stepped out from the doorway. She’d been watching him for a while, waiting for the right moment to interrupt his precious down time. “She seemed happy when she came home.” Sitting beside him on the bench, she waited for him to take her hand in his before she leaned her weight against him.

“Aye, there was a good few rabbits. I’ve put them in the shed to deal with later but it’s safe to say we willna be going hungry for the next week.”

“I like watching the two of you leave together in the morning, it makes up for all of those lonely years when I thought you’d never get to meet her. It makes my heart swell just a little.” Sighing, Claire closed her eyes, the scent of the fresh air clung to his hair making her smile broaden.

Fiddling in his pocket, Jamie placed the small object on Claire’s lap. Falling between the folds in her skirt, the weight of it made her look down immediately, her heart picking up pace as she saw the twinkle of the blade and the sleek wood of the main chamber.

“Is that…?” She whispered, the fingers of her free hand reaching out to touch it lightly.

“Aye, it is. She brought it with her, had it engraved for us too. She wants me to have it.”

Chuckling, Claire picked it from between her knees and held it up to the moon light, squinting her eyes a little to make out the initials Brianna had paid to have carved onto the knife. “She is very wise, our daughter. Even before she met you she exhibited undenyable Jamie Fraser traits.”

“She did, did she?” He returned, quirking a brow in amusement.

“Always practical and kind, she knows just what to do and say in any given situation.”

“So ye think she was right. To bring it for me?”

“Oh yes. If I hadn’t thought it useful for her back at home by herself, I would have done the same thing.”

Turning so that his lips met her forehead, Jamie let his knees rest idly against Claire’s. “I agree wi’ ye, Sassenach.” Keeping his voice low, he kissed her softly, slowly at first until he’d nearly forgotten his line of thinking altogether. “On those dark days when I didna think I’d ever see you again and then after ye returned, when I didna think I’d meet her, I made do -and was happy wi’- the vision I had her in my mind. But now my heart is so full and getting to take her out hunting gives me a contentment I didna think possible.”

“This is yours,” she said, passing the Swiss Army Knife back to him, her cheeks pinked as the evening breeze picked up, “I believe.”

Taking it from her, Jamie placed it back into his pocket and kissed her again, harder this time. “Thank ye, Claire.”

#;Mod MBD #featuring: brianna #The Knife #Jamie Fraser #Claire Fraser

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arplis · 5 years ago

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Arplis - News: Dagger Release Blitz #Giveaway

Title: Dagger Series: Vegas MMA #1 Author: S.L. Sterling Genre: Romantic Suspense/Contemporary Romance Release Date: March 27, 2020 Derrick I'd been fighting all my life. Making it my career choice seemed...logical. Sticking to what I was good at seemed...illogical as often as I ended up in the ER. Then my occupational hazard began to feel like more of a perk when I met, Katy. She was a night nurse at the ER I frequented. She could barely hide her contempt for me, which naturally made the curvy brunette with long wavy hair all the more irresistible. 𝙉𝙤𝙬 𝙄 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙣𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙄 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙖 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙖 𝙛𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙚𝙧. Katy They called him Dagger, for the looks he gave. He knew I hated him on sight, but still, he teased me and tried to sway me. There's no way it would work. I was on the run and still healing from a relationship with a 'roid-raging powerlifter. No way was I going to give it a go with someone trained to cause pain for a living. Then my ex tracked me down. And suddenly, having a fighter in my corner didn't seem like such a bad idea. NEW RELEASE GIVEAWAY! I am super excited that Dagger is finally LIVE! To celebrate I want to gift one lucky person my entire backlist! Yes, you read that right! Books will be sent directly to Kindle (Dagger excluded). For your chance to win all you need to do is sign up for my Newsletter, easy peasy! List of Titles It Was Always You Bad Company On A Silent Night Back to You this Christmas A Kiss Beneath the Stars In Your Arms His to Hold (CLICK ME TO ENTER) Chapter 1 Dagger I sat and looked up at the clock that hung on the pale-yellow cement wall. My head was pounding, and a pool of blood was building on the floor in between my feet. The wait times here were getting ridiculous. It was a good thing it wasn't a matter of life or death, I thought to myself. I had been waiting for over two hours before they had finally acknowledged I was even in the waiting room. It was busy tonight; not as busy as some of the other nights I had been here, but that’s what I get for having to come into the emergency room on a Friday night. At least I made it through registration where they had taken my blood pressure and other vitals, and listened to my heart, then the blond behind the desk sent me here, into this hellhole of a waiting room. Across the way a child cried out and I glanced around at the other patients who sat there waiting, just like me, to be seen by the next available doctor. While I waited, I thought back to the first time I had come walking in here and chuckled to myself. It had been a bad fight that night and I was a fucking mess. At that time, I was still an amateur in the ring and hadn't quite learned the concept of blocking. The nurses who were on that night had taken one look at me as I walked through the door and had rushed me in to see a doctor. There was no messing around, none of the now usual “go sit in a corner and wait.” Both of my eyes were swollen shut, my nose was bloodied and broken, I had a mouth full of blood from a cut on my inner cheek, and a large gash on my head, and I was clutching my side as if I had been shot. I was sure they thought so too, due to the blood-soaked shirt I had been wearing. They had cleaned me up a little, and within minutes, I was on my way down for a CT scan and X-rays to make sure I didn't have any type of brain trauma or broken bones. Once all the results were in and I had been stitched up and put back together, they had released me. Shortly after that visit I had become a regular and normally came in with the same type of injuries on a monthly basis. Apparently, you become less of an emergency once they find out that you are doing this to yourself, and now they make you wait. "Hey, Dagger. Another fight I see. Tell me you at least look better than the other guy?" one of the regular night nurses said as she walked by, handing me a clean towel to hold to the cut above my eye. "Make sure you're keep pressure on it. That will help stop the bleeding." "I know, I know. This isn’t the first time this has happened you know." I grumbled nodding and held the clean towel she had given me up to my eye. I took the other blood-soaked towel and dropped it into the bin labeled bio-hazard. I sat back against the chair, ignoring the sharp, agonizing pain that shot down my back. There were times lately I felt as if I were being punished for the choices I had made in life. It wasn't my fault I had grown up fighting in the streets. Besides, having a drunk of a father at home, I'd had no choice but to learn how to defend myself at a young age, first from him, and then from the others who picked on me and stole what little lunch money I had. However, if I hadn't learned then, I probably wouldn't be sitting here now. Instead I would have become some nameless victim and my body would have been found facedown in a ditch or back alley somewhere. Regardless, fighting was now in my blood, so it was no surprise I had made a career out of it. Becoming an MMA fighter was probably the best thing I could have done. I was good at what I did, one of the best in the area, as a matter of fact, and it paid the bills. However, it just so happened that this career choice also came with a lot of injuries. Good thing I was a tough son of a bitch. "Still kicking ass and takin’ numbers, huh, Dagg?" Bree, one of the nurses, said as she entered the room carrying a clipboard. Bree had looked after me the last few times I came in. "Come with me. I had a feeling you might stop in tonight. We haven't seen you in a while, I was getting a little worried," she said as she pulled open a curtain to one of the little exam rooms and patted the paper-covered bed. I listened to the familiar sound of paper crinkling beneath me as I took a seat and groaned from the pain shooting up my back again. "I'm just going to take your temperature, blood pressure, pulse, and oxygen saturation, but you probably know the drill by now." She smiled. "Yep, sure, use and abuse me, just like all the pretty girls." I chuckled and extended my free arm so she could put the cuff on while continuing to hold the towel up to my head. One thing about head wounds: they bleed like a bitch. I let her do her thing, watching the monitors on the machines. "Why are you here, Dagger? Everything is normal, same as it always is." "I missed you ladies here at the good ole’ emergency room. You guys always take such good care of me, and being a single man, a lady’s touch is always nice. Plus, my coach dropped me off here and made me come in." I winked at her as she tore the cuff from my arm and smirked. She pulled the towel away from my head and checked out my face. Taking her gloved hand, she gently touched the cut above my eyebrow, causing me to jump. She pushed my hand back up, so the towel rested against the cut again, and went to a drawer and pulled out a couple of bandages. "For the time being I will butterfly suture this until you see the doctor. It should help stop the bleeding a bit. You'll probably need stitches again." "Yeah, as you can see, that is the same as always too," I said, looking her in the eyes as she looked over my face again. I flinched this time as she touched another spot under my left eye. I had taken a left hook to that cheek; hadn’t even seen it coming until I felt the hit. "That is probably going to be a lovely shade of green and purple in the coming hours." She pulled the towel down away from my face and examined the gash closer this time. "Yep, you are going to need stitches. Hold still, this might sting." She smiled at me, while placing the bandages across the gash. I shrugged it off as if I didn't care that I needed to be sewn back up, but, honestly, I hated stitches, and Bree knew it. Bree was always good to me, and she gently fastened the gash closed with the bandages. "However, this time you should probably come in and have us remove the stitches, instead of doing it yourself." She tsked. "It says here that you left with twelve last time, but you never came back for your follow-up." "Yeah, yeah. I know, I was short on time." I said, standing up. It was the same lecture as the last time and the time before that. I had become good at removing stitches on my own. "Every time you remove them on your own, you risk the fact that the wound may not be closed properly and subjecting yourself to infection," she scolded. "Well, what can I say, I'm a glutton for punishment." I shrugged, smiling. "Don't flash me that sexy smile of yours. It’s serious." She frowned at me and muttered something under her breath as she marked something down on my chart. "All right, you know how it goes now. Take a seat out there." She pulled the curtain open, signaling for me to go and sit down. "Yep, I know how it goes, go wait and you'll call me as soon as there is a room ready." I grabbed my sweatshirt and walked out into the waiting room. I suddenly realized I spent entirely too much time here. I practically could have done the full check-in myself. I was just about to head over to where I had been sitting but noticed my seat had now been taken by an older man, and the room was twice as full than it was when I had left. I walked across the room and grabbed a different seat over in the corner, off by myself. This time when I sat down, the pain in my kidney area was bad enough that it ensured me I would probably be peeing nothing but blood in a few hours. Sadly, I knew that feeling too. Guess I probably should have told Bree about the multiple kicks and punches I had endured to that area tonight as well, and perhaps she might have sped things along. I shrugged off that thought and threw my sweatshirt on, pulling the hood up over my head to cover my eyes. The least Bree could have done was pass me a couple of pain pills on the sly, and she might have if I had told her I had a headache. I felt like shit, and the last thing I wanted was to have a bunch of people sitting and staring at me as if I were some monster out of a movie. Few people in the area new who I was, and I didn't want them to think I was just some looser who had lost in a street fight. I had too much pride to allow them to think that. I would never waste money on a stupid street fight. The longer I sat there leaning up against the wall using my hood as a pillow the more comfortable I became. Finally, the pain in my back settled and I was just about to fall asleep when I heard another familiar voice call my name. "Mollie, is that you?" I asked as I pulled the hood off my head and carefully rubbed my half-swollen shut eyes. "Yeah, Dag, it's me. Come on, handsome, let's get you looked after, shall we?" I stood up, blinking hard trying to see where I was going. I walked toward the door to the exam rooms, right where Mollie stood. I smiled as I approached her. I had seen her plenty of times here before as well. "Hey, Mollie, are you finally showing your old pal to a room?" "Yeah, come on, you poor thing," she said, her voice full of pity, grabbing my arm and walking beside me to keep me from banging into things. "Just a warning, I'm not your nurse tonight. You've got the new girl, so make sure you're on your best behavior and that you treat her nicely, okay, Dagger?" "I'm insulted! When have I ever been mean?" I asked innocently enough to make her laugh. Even though I couldn't see it, I could imagine her rolling her eyes at me. "When aren't you? You're always impatient, snappish, and the looks you give are enough to knock people to their knees," she said as she pulled the curtain back for me to enter the little cubicle of a room. "The look you’re referring to is part of my charm," I answered, sitting down on the table. "Really, though, the attitude is just because of the pain, Mollie. You guys poke and prod around; it hurts more than the actual fight," I argued, defending my behavior. She placed my chart in the holder on the wall and went to pull the curtain across. "Well then stop the fighting and be nice, Dagger. The girl looking after you tonight is new here and she isn't used to you yet. She's a sweet girl, so don't give her a hard time. Her and the doctor should be in very soon," she said as she pulled the curtain back across the doorway and left the room. I sat there for a few moments until the pain got so bad I had to lay back. I pulled my sweatshirt over my head and kicked my feet up on the gurney, resting my arm across my abs, and closed my eyes. Seconds later, I balled my sweatshirt up and shoved it under my head to use as a little pillow and laid there staring up at the ceiling. I could barely wait to see what little mouse of a girl they sent in to take care of me. If Mollie had warned me to be on my best behavior, this girl must be weak. Within minutes, a woman walked into the room wearing cute purple scrubs and carrying a clipboard. She didn't greet me or look at me; she just walked over to the wall and removed my chart, setting it on the counter. I couldn't help but check her out; she had an ass that any man would be foolish to forget. When she looked at me, I felt my pulse start to rise. She had gorgeous glass-blue eyes and long, dark eyelashes, perfect lips, and the cutest nose. Her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail. She sat down and slipped on a pair of frameless glasses and started going over my chart. "Could you please remove your T-shirt so I can hook you up to the monitors. If we must shave you, we will," she said, showing me a razor blade. "No need," I answered as I pulled my shirt over my head. I watched her eyes dance over my chest. I wanted to see if there was any reaction from her, but she just went about her business placing the electrodes on my chest, then she pressed a few buttons and the monitors started to beep. As her fingers grazed over my bare chest, lead to lead, the steady beeping from the machines started to get faster, the numbers climbing. "Are you feeling okay?" she questioned as she continued to attach the pads and fiddle with the wires. I had been through this a thousand times—it was all just part of the protocol—but this time it was my attraction to her that was causing the machines to go haywire. "Yeah," I said, swallowing hard. "Whoa!" she exclaimed as the numbers continued to climb. "Something here has got to be defective." She rested her hand against my chest. "You're sure you feel okay?" she asked as she fiddled with the leads for another few moments before taking her hand off me and searching through the drawers for something. I watched as the numbers on the machine instantly started to fall. She turned back to me and placed her hand on my chest, prepared to replace one of the leads, and the numbers started to climb again. She removed her hand again from my chest and watched as the numbers fell. A soft smirk floated across her lips, and that was when she realized that it was her that was making my heart rate go crazy. Her cheeks flushed and her eyes met mine as she rested her palm against my chest again. "Perhaps you should stop touching me," I teased, grabbing her hand that was still resting against my chest as she watched the monitor. She smirked at my comment and rolled her eyes. "Did you at least win your fight?" she asked, studying the injuries on my face. Then she looked at my back and ran her fingers over the bruising that I was sure was already starting to show in my kidney area. The machines started beeping wildly again, and without even waiting for my response, she started writing her notes. "Why is there is no mention of trauma to the kidney area on the forms?" she asked impatiently. "There is no mention because I didn't say anything," I grunted as she lightly pressed in the area. "Oh and I won. The other guy looks way worse." "Well, then I'm glad I'm dealing with you and not him then." She kept her head down and continued making notes, studying the monitor. "Any other areas of injury you're not telling us about?" she questioned, those glass-blue eyes glaring at me. I was going to say something smart, but when I saw the fire in her eyes, I decided to shut up and just shake my head. I didn't need another fight on my hands tonight. S.L. Sterling was born and raised in southern Ontario. She now lives in Northern Ontario Canada and is married to her best friend and soul mate and their two dogs. An avid reader all her life, S.L. Sterling dreamt of becoming an author. She decided to give writing a try after one of her favorite authors launched a course on how to write your novel. This course gave her the push she needed to put pen to paper and her debut novel "It Was Always You" was born. When S.L. Sterling isn't writing or plotting her next novel she can be found curled up with a cup of coffee, blanket and the newest romance novel from one of her favorite authors on her e-reader. Her favorite authors include Kendall Ryan, Vi Keeland, Penelope Ward, Lauren Blakely, Alessandra Torre and Willow Winters. In her spare time, she enjoys camping, hiking, sunny destinations, spending quality time with family and friends and of course reading. HOSTED BY: #♥ReleaseBlitz ##Giveaway

Arplis - News source https://arplis.com/blogs/news/dagger-release-blitz-giveaway-1

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nellie-elizabeth · 7 years ago

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Outlander: Of Lost Things (3x04)

Another of my absolutely favorite scenes from the books was featured in this episode, and I loved it a lot. I do have a few qualms, though...

Cons:

For the first time, I felt like the 20th century plot couldn't keep up with the 18th century story. Basically, we see Claire, Roger, and Bree continue to hunt for signs of Jamie. But eventually, Claire comes to the conclusion that she can't keep searching for a ghost. She decides it's time to go home to Boston, where she has her home and medical practice waiting for her. There wasn't really enough going on to justify an episode's worth of materials, and consequently these scenes almost felt like they were discarded bits left over from last year's finale, as we've finally caught up with the events we left off with last season.

And then there's the Brianna problem. Sophie Skelton is... not doing a great job. Her line delivery is stilted to the extent that she comes across like somebody performing in a high school play. Her dialogue is maybe a little bit hokey too, as she talks about hope and love and never giving up... but the thing is, the other actors on this show have been able to pull off lines like that, and she can't. The only thing that gives me hope for her character is that her best moments are the ones with Roger. As we move forward, the majority of her scenes will be with him, and not with Claire, so maybe their chemistry will develop into something more enjoyable to watch. For now, I'm disappointed that Bree, an excellent character from the books, is translating so poorly to the small screen.

My last complaint is with the pacing, which I think might be a constant worry this season. Voyager is a big book and a lot of stuff happens. The stuff at Helwater, which for the most part I absolutely adored, went by so fast that we missed a lot of the nuance. The Lord John stuff was excellent, but there should have been more of it. And there should have been more ambiguity in the Geneva pregnancy situation. There were a number of shortcuts, the most annoying of which was Hal's intrusion into the story. Apparently he got drunk and spilled the beans to Geneva about Jamie's true identity, which is what allowed her to blackmail him into coming to her bed. Hal comes across like a drunken idiot, which is so contrary to his character from the books. I don't imagine Hal will play much of a role in the series, as he's a relatively minor character who is probably easy to cut out for the most part. But still - John's brother is pretty awesome and I felt like we got a bit of character assassination with him in this episode.

Pros:

Despite the pacing being a problem, the stuff at Helwater was still pretty great. Geneva is a notorious figure from the books, widely reviled, as she coerces Jamie to have sex with her and then gets pregnant with his child. We can all love Willie and still hate on Geneva, right? The show made her similarly bratty and unbearable, but there was a certain level of care in the sex scene between her and Jamie. I might have liked it if that scene hadn't gone on quite as long, but... the moment where Geneva tells Jamie that she doesn't know what to do, and asks him to show her... that moment connected the scene with Jamie and Claire's first night together. The situations were quite different, but in one key way they were not: Jamie and Claire did not know each other all that well the first time they had sex, and Claire taught Jamie how it was to be done, as he'd never done it before. And now Jamie is giving the gift of a gentle first time to a young woman who is about to be married off to an old man against her will. Say what you will about Geneva, and I'll say an awful lot, but the way she was handled in the show made me sympathize with her quite a bit.

Isobel Dunsany was a delightful surprise. I don't remember exactly how she was described in the book, as it's been a while since I read it, but this portrayal of her felt right on. She's timid and a little awkward, clearly overshadowed by her abrasive and stunning sister and the memory of her deceased brother. But she's kind and she sees things more clearly than one would suppose. She knows that Geneva's child is Jamie's, and not Geneva's late husband's, and yet she keeps the secret. After Geneva's death in childbirth, Isobel strikes Jamie in fury, but later actually apologizes to him. Due to their differing statuses, Isobel could have easily been cruel to Jamie and he would have been powerless to stand up for himself. She also dotes on Willie, even knowing his true parentage, and promises Jamie to look after his son. Isobel kind of rules and I wish we could see more of her.

The real meat of this plot thread, for me, is the stuff with Lord John. (Surprise, surprise. Expect me to gobble up every morsel of this man the same way I did for Fergus last season). Lord John is such a good person and I'm just so crazy about him. I'm glad we got to see at least one chess game, although of course I would have preferred a whole series of them like in the book. But to watch these two men, with the weight of such a history between them, able to crawl their way to a friendship is just... it's so fun. It's more interesting than a lot of Jamie's friendships. Of course he loves his sister and Ian. Of course he loves Murtagh and the other members of his clan. Those are friendships built on blood and culture. With John, it's... against all odds. The best scene in the episode is when John reveals to Jamie that he knows William is his son. The two go for a walk, and Jamie asks John for a favor - will he look after Willie, and act as a father to him? If he does, Jamie would be willing to... well, let John have his way. John is slightly horrified by the offer, and Jamie says "do you not want me, then?" John replies, quite matter of fact: "I shall probably want you until the day I die," but of course he won't take Jamie up on that offer. In fact, John has his own news - he is to be married to Isobel. He cares for her, and this way he will be able to look after Willie. Jamie is grateful, and says that John shall always have his friendship, if that means anything to him. John says it means a great deal.

Okay. Just... yes. This scene is everything to me. It's sort of a useless conversation to contemplate sexual mores of this time period. Of course John being homosexual would have been seen as a horrific, criminal thing to his peers of the time period. And the fact that Jamie knows this key thing about him means that Jamie has power over John in a very dangerous way. But Jamie trusts him - even likes him - anyway. In the books, Jamie actually gives John a chaste kiss on the lips to seal the promise to look after Willie. While that is an iconic and excellent moment from the book, I really like the way they played it out here as well. Back in Ardsmuir, John's come-on to Jamie took the shape of putting his hand over Jamie's, and then stroking his finger. The clasping of hands took on an intimate tone that Jamie found unacceptable. Now, all this time later, Jamie puts out his hand for John to shake, and when John takes it, Jamie puts his other hand up over John's, in a parallel of John's action back in the prison. Such a subtle thing. Such a moment of acceptance and trust between these two very different people. Without giving too much away about future events, let's just say that these two don't always have the smoothest sailing relationship, but their abiding bond remains, and it's one of the best things in the whole series.

Before I wrap up, I should also mention Willie, Jamie's illegitimate son. I'm going to ignore the fact that the little boy playing Willie doesn't much resemble Sam Heughan, because... come on. I'm sure they'll cast a ginger to play older Willie when the time comes. This kid was adorable, and even though they didn't have much time together, this episode managed to solidify Jamie and Willie's bond quite nicely. Jamie says earlier that he's lost "two children," referring to Faith and Brianna, and if you think about it, he's also lost a foster son in Fergus. So watching him play with his child, chastise him for being spoiled, secretly baptize him as a "stinking papist," and even give him a carved wooden snake like his own brother, also named Willie, had done for him... all of this stuff was adorable and heartbreaking. Poor Jamie is deprived of the chance of raising any of his children.

The ending sequence of this episode, played under a Bob Dylan song, hit the right note exactly. You see Claire and Brianna back on a plane to Boston, Claire having given up on her hunt for Jamie through the pages of history. This is cut with clips of Jamie leaving Helwater to return to Scotland, a freedom granted him because of his actions in saving the infant Willie from Geneva's deranged widower. As he leaves, we see Lord John and Lady Isobel standing in tableau with their de facto son Willie. John stares wistfully after Jamie. Willie actually runs after him, and John and Isobel chase after him to hold him back. Jamie rides slowly away from his son, unsure if he'll ever see him again. Touching and perfect and so freakin' sad.

I'll leave it there. Based on episode titles, I'm fairly certain that the big reunion is going to be episode 6, meaning we have one more episode to catch Jamie up to the print shop, and get Claire back into the proper century. As impatient as I am, I also wonder how the rest of this season is going to go, pacing-wise. Thus far, I've been really happy with the material I've gotten, and my only big complaint has been wishing for more.

8/10

#review #outlander #outlander review

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alleyblack2-blog · 5 years ago

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The Linc - Eagles “really like Josh Jacobs”

Let’s get to the Philadelphia Eagles links ...

Report: Eagles ‘really like’ Alabama RB Josh Jacobs - CBS Sports Geoff Mosher: “I’ve been hearing that...don’t be shocked if the Eagles take a running back in the first round. They really like Josh Jacobs.” Adam Caplan: “I talked to Greg Cosell from NFL Films. He likes (Jacobs) a lot. An offensive coordinator who I ran into at the combine said Jacobs is his top graded back in the draft. He’s a three-down back.” Geoff Mosher: “I think we need to adjust our philosophy. The people that said Howie Roseman would never take a running back in the first round. Do remember, two years ago...if Christian McCaffery was there at No. 14, he would have been an Eagle.”

Why The Eagles Brought Ronald Darby Back - BGN All things considered, Darby’s transitional quickness gives him route-mirroring ability that is starting-caliber in the NFL; his click-and-close explosiveness and catch-point skills are in the upper echelon of NFL starters altogether. Darby hasn’t finished a season since 2016, but he has Pro Bowl ability on the field, and if he can stay healthy (and return to health without losing his athletic ability), Eagles fans should be excited about his starting role in 2019.

NFC East free agency grades: Dallas Cowboys edition - PhillyVoice Without knowing exactly what Lawrence is looking for, contract-wise, the clock is ticking on a resolution there. The Cowboys can ill-afford to mess up that situation, because their defense is in deep trouble without him. Otherwise, predictably, the Cowboys were not players in the first wave of free agency. They’ll hunt bargains the rest of the way. Their grade is probably better saved until we see what these contract extensions for their current players look like, but they might not happen until much later this offseason. For now, we’ll give them an arbitrary C+.

Lawlor: Players show they want to come to Philly - PE.com I think you have to give Howie Roseman a lot of credit for adding an impact player to the offense and defense. Too often people think of teams that make the most moves as being those who win in the offseason. That’s wrong. You want to make smart, selective moves. The Eagles have done just that. One thing that really stood out to me is that players wanted to be here. Graham didn’t even talk to other teams. He wanted to stay with the Eagles. Malik Jackson wants to play in an attacking scheme and for a winning team. DeSean Jackson has talked a lot over the years about wanting a chance to return to Philly.

2019 NFL Free Agency winners and losers: PFF WAR - PFF While getting back a first- and a third-round pick for Odell Beckham Jr. may seem like a strong return, the truth of the matter is this: OBJ was one of the most valuable non-quarterbacks in recent memory and his nearly two full wins above replacement are going to be hard to come by. Combine that with their loss of Landon Collins, who was worth three-quarters of a win, on the defensive side of the ball, and the Giants have done more harm than good to a roster depleted of playmakers outside of Saquon Barkley.

A Giant Mess - Rotoworld There’s no denying Barkley’s remarkable skill set, but when a foundation piece at the most important position is staring you square in the face, you don’t dare look that gift horse in the mouth. To say Barkley had a superior rookie year to Darnold is both a statement of fact and a short-sighted, ludicrously flawed rationale for Gettleman’s poor use of draft capital. Even if Barkley continues on this path and becomes the next LaDainian Tomlinson—a distinct possibility after leading the league in yards from scrimmage last year—the Giants still got it wrong from a team-building philosophy. It’s not just that running backs have a significantly shorter shelf life than QBs (the continued dominance of Drew Brees and Tom Brady would point to that fact). It’s a simple matter of supply and demand. Compared to elite quarterbacks, star running backs practically grow on trees. Chris Carson was four picks away from being Mr. Irrelevant two years ago. Phillip “who lives at home” Lindsay wasn’t even drafted last year. Both rushed for over 1,000 yards last season.

Eagles’ offseason is going much better than rest of NFC East - NBCSP Collins got a mega-deal, the kind the Giants were never going to pay him. The ‘Skins got a great player, but they clearly had to overpay to do it. He’s getting $14M a year. The Keenum deal isn’t awful given their circumstances, but Keenum vs. Colt McCoy in training camp kind of tells you about the ceiling the Redskins have in 2019. They actually signed Flowers, the failed Giants draft pick, and plan to play him at guard. The Eagles have to be thrilled about that decision. The worst part of the ‘Skins’ offseason is that we’re apparently finding out about all these moves at the same time as head coach Jay Gruden. According to a report from 106.7, Gruden learned about the Collins signing only when a media member texted him. That’s not great.

Passing-game role makes Ezekiel Elliott even more valuable - PFT Also, there are two contracts that control the relationship: The contract between the player and the team, and the contract between the union and the league. Elliott has rights under the broader contract that are independent of his individual contract, and that allow him to technically violate the terms of his own deal. By taking advantage of those rights, he can try to leverage the Cowboys into doing the right thing, before he ends up being the next guy who finally makes it to free agency with bald tires and far less money in the bank than he deserves.

Teams Readying for Rosen, Peppers’s Fit for the Giants, Adrian Peterson’s Other Suitors - MMQB It’s hard to find a better way to announce a retirement than what Haloti Ngata pulled off on Monday morning: posting a picture of himself holding a flag atop Mount Kilimanjaro. I’m not a Hall of Fame voter, and I try to be sparing with calling guys future Hall of Famers, but Ngata should be a serious consideration in five years. Really, he helped anchor a generation of great defenses in Baltimore, along with Hall of Famer Ray Lewis, 2019 inductee Ed Reed and Terrell Suggs, another potential HOFer. If all four get in, by the way, that would be more than the ’86 Bears defense had inducted (Dan Hampton, Richard Dent and Mike Singeltary are the three from that group), which says a lot about the job Ozzie Newsome did building those teams.

Redskins Sign Offensive Lineman Ereck Flowers to a One-Year Deal - Hogs Haven The Redskins just received some help on the offensive line, and it comes in the form of a 6’6” 335 pound 24 year old player. Former Giants first round pick Ereck Flowers has signed a one-year, $4 million dollar contract to join the Washington Redskins.

Jets re-sign Eric Tomlinson and Brent Qvale - Gang Green Nation [BLG Note: The Eagles originally signed Tomlinson as an undrafted free agent back in 2015 and he’s still hanging on in the league.]

Slot size matters - Niners Nation You just need to scheme for it, and add downfield blocking to your mix. This is what Chip Kelly did at Oregon, but was never quite able to achieve in the NFL. And he picked Jordan Matthews in the second round of his second draft as part of his attempt to make it happen. Kelly’s Philly teams had great WR blocking, once DeSean Jackson was gone, and one of the best blocking receivers was a veteran named Miles Austin, now an offensive quality control coach for the Niners. He mentored Matthews in Philly and recruited him to the team this offseason, Matthews told team reporter Keiana Martin.

The completely risk free nature of Mychal Kendricks’ contract with the Seahawks - Field Gulls It has been less than a week since the Seattle Seahawks inked Mychal Kendricks to a one year contract, and that has led many observers to believe that it was an extremely good sign for his prospects for freedom. Terms of the contract have now been released, and it shows that the signing carries effectively no financial risk for the Hawks, as there is no guaranteed money.

If the Giants pass on Haskins the Jaguars’ decision may not be easy - Big Cat Country The question the Jaguars need to answer is how close they think this team is to competing without upgrading the offensive line or receiving corps with their present draft slot. As Oehser further noted, if the Jaguars believe Foles is the answer then they should not expect to be sitting high in in the first round for a few years to come. Your opportunity to grab a premier quarterback may be a present truth. Oehser makes a compelling point, one that mirrors what the Green Bay Packers did years ago when you still had Brett Favre on the roster but Aaron Rodgers fell to them. If you believe Haskins has the head for the NFL, but needs some bench time to transition considering his limited playing time at Ohio State, sitting behind Foles seems like an optimal scenario for the Jaguars.

How the NFL can save the onside kick - ESPN The NFL’s onside kick might be responsible for more drama than any other single strategy in football. The mere possibility that a team can steal an extra possession has preserved hope and extended the attention of fans for generations. So it’s no wonder that the competition committee and coaches around the league are scouring for ways to restore the onside kick this offseason after it faded as a viable option in 2018. Restricted by rule changes designed to make the kickoff safer, teams recovered only four of 52 attempts last season for a 7.7 conversion rate -- a sharp drop from 2017 (21.1) and well below the long-term average between 2001 and 2017 (19.7 percent).

What Does All That Cap Space Really Mean for NFL Teams, and How Should They Use It? - The Ringer The Colts came into free agency with over $100 million in room and big expectations. But as they’ve played things conservatively, Indy has illustrated the value in using that financial flexibility with patience and creativity.

Ledyard: 2019 NFL Draft Edge Defender Rankings - The Draft Network Nick Bosa or Josh Allen? Montez Sweat or Brian Burns? Rashan Gary or Chase Winovich? These are the questions that will invade our pre-draft conversations from now until April 25th. While the draft world likely remains unsettled on anything close to a strong consensus on the 2019 edge defender class, my grade on the position group have been finalized. I went trait-by-trait to break down how each of my top nine prospects grade out.

Is DeSean Jackson actually a good fit for the Eagles? - SB Nation The Eagles brought back a fan favorite in DeSean Jackson, but is he right player to help Philadelphia’s offense take off? [BLG Note: Yes, he is.]

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