#but yes we are still hard at work with eau. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gumnut-logic · 3 years ago

Photo

Virgil stared at the piano.

The ivory stared back.

Reaching out a gloved hand he touched the familiar keys, but as if in an echo of reality, his glove prevented him from feeling their silky touch.

“Virgil, you coming?”

He looked up as Scott tore into the room still in his uniform, as Virgil was, no time between rescues.

No time for anything.

“Yeah, give me a second.”

He rolled his shoulders, willing the ache to just go away.

It didn’t.

“You okay?”

Virgil blinked. “Fine.”

“Great. Launch in five.” And he spun into his chute. Idly, Virgil wondered if his brother had remembered to disengage the uniform spinner.

With a sigh he followed suit, throwing the broken piece of Thunderbird Two on the floor beside the desk, and heading to his chute.

Another day, another rescue.

It would have been nice to have had the night in between.

-o-o-o-

Thunderbird Two landed hard and Virgil swore. There went the damn landing gear alignment. Another afternoon of repairs lined up and he hadn’t even gone through post flight checks yet.

The hangar loomed and he cut speed, the mountain’s shadow passing over him as it swallowed him whole. The turntable caught his ‘bird and spun her ready again for the next rescue.

Which by all accounts would be, five, four, three, two…”Virgil, we have a situation.”

Goddamnit!

-o-o-o-

He stunk.

There was no other way to describe it.

Virgil walked up the module and lay his head against the cold cahelium. God, that felt good.

But he stunk.

Five rescues in a row. All undeniably urgent. Three involving children. Two with fatalities. And that was only today.

He didn’t want to think about yesterday.

He wanted to stay right where he was, no going back out into that damn desert sun.

“Sir, are you with International Rescue?”

No, I’m with the circus, we just arrived in town. He swallowed a sigh, lifted his head and turned around. “Yes, ma’am. Can I help you?”

She wrinkled her nose at him, obviously having gotten a whiff.

“Do you think you could move your equipment? We can’t get the tour bus out of the carpark.”

He stared at her.

The remains of a second tour bus were still hanging off the cliff fifty metres away. Two people had fallen to their deaths despite all his efforts.

Total blank.

“Sure.” Just let me wash this blood off my hands first.

She smiled at him. “Thanks.”

He resisted the urge to connect his head with the cahelium with an audible thunk.

-o-o-o-

He staggered into the comms room, there was no other word for it.

His head was pounding, his shoulders aching and there was a stone in his right boot.

“Woah, eau de hard work just walked into the room.”

“Shut up, Gordon.”

“I’m sorry, my mistake, eau de bear.”

He ignored him. Sometimes that was all you could do.

“Virg, how did it go?”

He stared up at his big brother for a moment, briefly wondering what the hell he was talking about. “Oh, the climbers. Caught both of them. One was okay, the other was a whining cow.”

The room fell silent and Virgil looked up from where he had been attempting to pull out a piece of grass that had gotten stuck in his harness. “What?”

Scott was frowning at him. “Are you okay?”

He flicked the grass onto the floor. “Oh, I’m dandy. Haven’t slept for a while. Three people died in my arms today. I ate food earlier, but it tasted like cardboard. Must have had something to do with all the blood on my hands. How are you?”

And there was more grass! How the hell did the damn stuff get through the neoprene and his undershirt to scratch his skin? The material was space-rated, for crying out loud. He picked at it.

A shadow passed over him and he looked up to find a pair of worried blue eyes blocking out the setting sun.

“Virg?”

“What?!”

Okay, so he yelled a little. Didn’t realise he could make his brother flinch quite that way.

He scratched his head and something fell out of his hair and on to the floor. Whatever it was, it scuttled away behind one of the lounges.

Gordon yelped and backed away.

Virgil really didn’t have the energy to do anything much at all. “Sorry about that.”

“I think you should sit down.” And his brother was trying to usher him in the direction of the lounge without actually touching him.

“Why?”

There were calculations going on behind those blue eyes, he could tell. “Are you tired?”

“What do you think? There have been countdowns and fall downs and let downs, so why shouldn’t there be sit downs as well.” He took a step towards the lounge, but apparently the day hadn’t finished with its fall downs yet, because the floor suddenly flew at his face.

“Woah!” And there were hands on him, grabbing at his uniform, and then he truly was sitting down.

On the floor.

“I stink.”

An arm wrapped around his shoulders, and there were words that didn’t really make sense. Then there were more people than before.

Grandma was there.

“Hey, Grandma.”

“Hello, Virgil.” She reached out and touched his face. He edged back a little and she dropped her hand. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit.”

She blinked at him. “Are you hurting anywhere?”

“Everywhere.” And the world started to slide to the left.

There were hands again. Something soft. And he was finally resting. The floor was hard, but it was cool and there was no energy required. “Oh, god, that is good.”

There were voices, lots of them, but he understood none of them, and quite frankly, he didn’t care.

He could finally relax.

He drifted.

-o-o-o-

Someone was stroking his hair.

“Mmm, tha’s good.”

“Virgil? Are you with us?” Scott. But there was a fragrance.

“Grandma?”

“I’m here, honey.” The fingers in his hair patted him gently.

“Not feel so good.”

A shadow fell across his eyelids and a kiss brushed his forehead. “Don’t you worry, you’re safe.”

And it was only then he realised that he was surrounded by the sound of his beloved ‘bird. “Wha-? Why?” He tried to sit up and discovered blankets over him and a needle in his arm and hands hurrying to hold him down. “Woah, Virg, you relax. We’re on our way to the hospital.” Opening his eyes produced a blurry approximation of his big brother.

“Who’s flying?”

“Gordon.”

He struggled to sit up, attempting to throw his legs off the side of the bed. But something was wrong.

He stilled and the hands holding him back steadied him. “What’s wrong with my legs?” He tried to move them again. The left one shifted a little, but the right one might as well have not been there. Panic hit. “What happened? What’s wrong?” He couldn’t remember.

“Virgil!” It was Scott’s command voice, but something inside Virgil wasn’t right. His heart rate soared and an alarm shrieked somewhere.

But then a pair of soft hands cupped his face and he was turned to look into a pair of clear blue eyes. “Virgil, it is going to be alright. Do you hear me?” One of those hands returned to combing his hair.

A breath fell out of him and he sagged, his body sliding forward before being caught by a familiar pair of strong hands. He was lowered slowly back onto the bed.

Grandma didn’t let her touch slip for a moment. He forced himself to take in breath, expel it, and calm down. “What happened?” Why was he so breathless?

“You collapsed in the comms room. Do you remember?” Scott’s voice was like a lifeline.

He thought back. “Something...I smelled bad.”

“Yes, you did.” And there was a touch of a smile in that voice. “That was thirty-six hours ago.”

“Thirty-six?”

“You were exhausted, Virgil. And you have been asleep for most of it. Damnit, why do you do this? There are rules for a reason.”

“I-I broke no rules, Scott. There were people-...who needed hel-“ And he had to catch his breath. His lungs just weren’t filling properly. “Wha’s wrong w’ me?”

Scott looked at his grandmother a moment before turning back to Virgil. Quietly. “We don’t know yet.”

Gordon’s voice suddenly filled the room. “We are on final approach to Wellington. Please take your seats for landing.”

“Wel-lington?”

“Hospital, Virgil.” Grandma brushed his temple with her fingertips. “We will find out what’s wrong, honey. You just rest.”

He leant into her touch. “Sorry, Grand-ma.” His eyes drifted shut, his focus shifting to her gentle touch, clinging to it. “Sor-ry.”

A breath that wouldn’t come.

And he was forced to let go.

-o-o-o-

Scott spun as both an alarm started shrieking and his grandmother cried out. “Virgil?!”

His brother’s body shuddered slightly and then stilled.

A pause, a moment, no indrawn breath.

God, no.

“He’s not breathing.”

The ship around them shuddered as if in sympathy and Scott moved. Don’t think, just do.

The roar of VTOL vibrated through the hull as he reached for a bag ventilator and started breathing for his brother. Grandma lowered the bed, helping to move her grandson into the correct position.

Damn you, Virgil, don’t do this. Scott scanned the readouts. If only he had realised what was happening faster.

They had thought it was simply exhaustion taking his brother down. The man had fallen asleep on the floor, for goodness’ sake. Once he and Gordon had manhandled him into the infirmary, everything had checked out. Virgil had just over done it, and not for the first time. They had decided to let him sleep it off in the infirmary where they could keep an eye on him.

Something had niggled at Scott, something about how Virgil hadn’t seemed himself before his collapse. It bugged him. But there were no indications that there was anything else wrong with him.

Fourteen hours later and he was still sleeping. Scott reassured himself that it was just Virgil, who slept long periods normally anyway.

But still the niggle.

At sixteen hours, he cracked enough to attempt to wake his brother.

Virgil responded by swearing at him, rolling over and going back to sleep.

Okay, the bear was still in residence.

But sixteen hours was a ridiculous length of time to go without fluids, sustenance and a toilet break.

So he woke him again and against Virgil’s protests, dragged him out of bed and into the infirmary’s bathroom, before shoving a glass of water and a bagel in front of him.

The glare was epic, particularly when Virgil realised exactly where he was.

“I’m not sick!”

“Eat your breakfast.”

But the moment his brother set eyes on the bagel he paled to a ghastly shade of green. “Not hungry.”

“Drink, at least.”

Half the water made it down his throat before Virgil’s eyes began to droop again. “‘M tired.”

“Drink the rest of the water, or I’m calling Grandma up here.”

The rest of the water made it past his lips, the glass hitting the bed table just that little harder than intended as Virgil pushed the table away. “Wanna sleep.”

Scott sighed. “In a moment. Just let me check you over first, okay?”

His brother rubbed his ear as he lay back on the pillow. “O-kay.” But he was asleep again before Scott had a chance to do anything.

Twelve hours later, Scott was really beginning to worry.

“Something is not right, Grandma.”

Gordon was examining his prone brother, checking Scott’s assessment of his condition. “Bro, I can’t see anything more than you. Virgil is just sleeping. No indications of anything else.” A sigh. “He just pushed it too far. I’m going to give him a piece of my mind once he is back on his feet.”

“Get in line.” Scott and Grandma said at the exact same time.

Another sigh. “Let’s wake him up. Time for some more fluid, in and out.”

The bear was still firmly in residence upon being disturbed. “For god’s sake, leave me alone.”

“Virgil, toilet break, then food.”

“Who died and made you boss?”

Scott froze, just as Virgil realised exactly what he had said. “Shit. Sorry, didn’t mean that.” Sitting up, he dragged himself to the side of the bed, letting his feet hang off the edge, and dropped his head into his hands. “Hell.”

Yet another sigh, and Scott reached over to help his brother off the bed. “Apology accepted, if you pee, drink and eat something.”

“‘M sorry.”

“I know.” And he did. This was not the Virgil he knew and it was setting alarm bells screaming in his head.

They started screaming even louder once Virgil’s feet hit the floor. “Ooh, that’s weird.” And then his brother was falling.

Scott only barely managed to catch him, the larger man more difficult to manhandle than he appeared. “Gordon!”

The aquanaut appeared in the doorway, diving into help the moment he saw Scott stagger. “Virgil, whatcha doing?”

“Feet feel weird. Numb.” And as Scott watched, Virgil attempted to get those feet under him and failed. “Don’t think I can...can’t...what the hell is going on?”

They managed to get him back on the bed. A sensitivity assessment later and they realised that their second oldest brother was suffering a creeping paralysis.

The anxiety level in the room skyrocketed.

But Virgil didn’t know because he had fallen asleep again.

Thunderbird Two was prepped and they left the island within the next fifteen minutes.

But apparently they weren’t fast enough.

-o-o-o-

They torched a park near the Wellington Hospital, foregoing the airport the moment Virgil stopped breathing. They could charge them for damages later. It wouldn’t be the first time the Tracy’s had to pay for extra greenskeepers and it wouldn’t be the last.

An ambulance met them there.

It was a huddle of the three of them as they pushed the hover stretcher out of TB2. Scott at the head of the stretcher was keeping his brother alive, pumping air into his failing lungs. Grandma held his hand.

Gordon held them together.

A blur of paramedics, vitals and his brother was rushed off to emergency. Scott going with him.

Gordon found his arms full of his grandmother, quietly crying on his shoulder.

He bit his own lip. Now Virgil was in other hands, he had no emergency to occupy him, nothing to distract him from the fact that his brother may be dying this very moment.

And Grandma was crying.

He blinked and a tear ran down his cheek. He cleared his throat. “C’mon. We need to get to Scott.” His big brother was likely a mess. Try and help what he could.

And pray for what he couldn’t.

-o-o-o-

The hiss of the ventilator hurt.

It was a rhythmic sound, something no doubt Virgil would be able to sense, perhaps even create some music to, but to Scott, it just screamed pain.

Virgil couldn’t breathe on his own. There was concern that he soon wouldn’t be able to do anything on his own and he would die.

Why?

They didn’t know.

Scott had clung to the hospital having the answers. He was only a paramedic, doctors knew so much more.

But they didn’t know.

He had sent Gordon back to TB2, to return her home and gather the rest of the family in Tracy Two. John had declined to come down just yet. He wanted the power of Thunderbird Five to support his sudden research into the causes of paralysis.

Grandma sat under his arm, her head on his shoulder, her expression lost as she stared at her dying grandson.

Yes, dying. There was no denying it, just futile rage against it.

And the lack of reason was pure torture.

His medical history had been scoured. And what a history it was. The doctor had many questions.

What had his brother eaten in the last week? Considering how busy they had been, Scott figured the better question would have been ‘Has your brother eaten in the last week?’ Not that Virgil ever had any trouble eating, he had a healthy appetite, but time, there had been so little time.

Where has Virgil been in the last week or so? Had he travelled internationally at all? Scott was so tired he actually burst out laughing at that question. Grandma had wrapped her arms around him as the laughter had nearly turned into tears.

In the last week, Virgil had landed on every continent with the exception of Antarctica. Though, he had been there the week before to assist the US Airforce at McMurdo. As Scott listed off the sites of the rescues his brother had attended, it sunk in exactly how much work Virgil had been buried under. Sure, Scott had been alongside him on many of them, as had their brothers, but Virgil was so integral to IR’s operation that, bar a space exclusive rescue, he was on site for almost every event. And if he wasn’t, it was because he was attending another site at the time.

Scott ran his hands through his hair. International Rescue was stretched thin, and this was the result. What the hell had he done? What would Dad have done? Was this his fault?

“It’s not your fault, Scott.”

He dropped his elbows to the side of the bed, his head into his hands. “How can you know that, Grandma?”

“Because it isn’t.” And her arms were around him again, her head against his shoulder. As always, he was a little stunned by how physically small his grandmother was. Her personality was so strong, so vibrant, it out shone her size. He had shot up above her at fourteen, but she still seemed larger than him.

He still looked up to her.

“Grandma, I...” And he scrunched his eyes shut as his throat caught. “I can’t lose him.” The breath he dragged in strangled him. “I can’t.”

The arms around him tightened, but there were no words of reassurance.

There were none to be had.

-o-o-o-

Gordon was surrounded by his brother.

That’s what it felt like, anyway. Virgil was everywhere he looked. The sound of Thunderbird Two screamed Virgil, the seat he was sitting in was Virgil’s pilot seat and the very green of the cockpit was just simply his brother.

Gordon’s throat was tight as he launched her into the air. He knew his brother would be protesting him flying his ‘bird. He understood it was no reflection of his brother’s trust or a lack of confidence in his piloting skills. Hell, it was more a running joke than anything else. Just that this was Virgil’s Thunderbird. His. Just as TB4 was Gordon’s.

Gordon bit his lip, blinking away the blur.

Damnit.

It was just so senseless. The man worked his ass off to save the world and suddenly his body just stops working.

The doctors had bandied around possibilities, but none had been conclusive and most of them had come with the words ‘no cure’. So symptoms were to be treated as they appeared.

Too bad if death was one of them.

Gordon wiped his face with the back of his hand.

Oh, goddamnit.

As TB2 hit cruise height, he engaged the autopilot for the short journey home and took himself to the little bathroom.

And wished he hadn’t.

Virgil was here, too.

A used uniform was shoved in one corner, such a sign of how rushed the usually tidy man had been. Almost in contrast, a handful of flowers had been shoved in a cup of water and jammed up against the faucet to stop it from falling over. Pretty red, orange and yellow tiny little flowers, now rather wilted, moved in rhythm with the vibrations of the Thunderbird, trembling just enough to shiver.

Gordon reached out to touch one. His brother had probably stashed them for photographing or painting later, but in the rush had forgotten them. Even his eye could see the colours were lovely.

Something tiny scurried across his fingers. “Ah!” It was only little, but it set off an immediate reaction. His skin tingled and red marks appeared where the creature had touched him. “What the hell?!” He shook his hand and it was flung across the room, landing in the shower recess. Damn fingerless gloves. Useful for dexterity, but damn vulnerable when ...touching flowers?

He stared at the flowers for a moment, then back at the shower recess, suddenly reminded of the thing with legs that had fallen out of Virgil’s hair shortly before he had collapsed.

He absently scratched his damn itchy fingers, before picking up the flowers, eyeing them for any more bugs and carried them into the cockpit. “Hey, John?”

“Gordon?” His holographic brother was obviously distracted, his fingers flying over unseen data.

“Do you know what plant these flowers belong to?”

Green eyes glanced up at him for a moment. A blink. “Lantana of some kind. Why?”

“Virgil, had them in TB2’s bathroom.” He shook his itchy hand again. Glancing at it he realised it had become a little swollen. “Had some kind of bug on them.”

John frowned at him before returning to his research. “Give me a moment.” Another blink. “Lantana can cause internal paralysis if eaten.” An arched eyebrow.

“I can’t see him eating the flowers, bro. I suspect he was going to paint them.”

“Then I don’t...” And John paused staring at something Gordon couldn’t see.

“What?”

“You said there was a bug on them. Describe it to me.”

“Tiny, with legs. Didn’t see much, didn’t want to. Damn thing has made my hand itchy and now it is swollen.”

“Show me.”

Gordon held it up.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” John’s voice was low and his eyes wide. “I need to speak to Scott.” And the hologram vanished.

“What?! John!”

But his brother was gone.

He dumped the flowers on the console, and tried not to gouge one set of fingers with the other.

-o-o-o-

“Scott!”

He jumped. He couldn’t help it. John’s voice startled him out of memories and dark thoughts.

“What?” Oh, so professional a response there, field commander. He rubbed his face with a hand. “Yes, Thunderbird Five?”

“Was Virgil checked for bites and stings?”

A blink. “Yes, it was one of the first things they did.”

“Check again. This time, focus on his hair and behind his ears.”

Scott rose to his feet, throwing a questioning look at his grandmother. She shrugged and also stood up, walking around the bed to Virgil’s other side.

Turning on the overhead light brought out the stark paleness of his brother, his dark hair in such contrast to his bloodless face enough to corpsify him.

Scott swallowed hard before reaching to gently touch his hair. It was soft, but obviously in need of a wash. He fingered through it, scouring his brother’s scalp for any indications of injury.

At first he found nothing and despair of an answer nagged him, but then...”What the hell is that?!”

A tiny swollen lump of a creature was attached to his brother, deep in his hairline just behind his left ear.

Then he found another one.

A gasp from his grandmother produced a third.

“John, what the hell are we looking at?”

“I suspect Virgil is a victim of a paralytic tick.”

“Three so far.”

“Three?! Call in the doctors now. Get them removed immediately.”

What followed was a blur of action. He notified a nurse, the doctor was called, the ticks were removed, five in total, and bagged for identification.

By the time Alan, Gordon, Kayo and Brains arrived, they knew what had taken their brother down.

What they still didn’t know was whether he would ever get up again.

-o-o-o-

“How the hell were they missed in the first place?”

That was Scott. An angry Scott.

Damn.

“This is a rare situation that usually only presents in children and most certainly not in New Zealand.” John’s calm and matter of fact voice was reassuring. “The ticks do not usually go unnoticed for such a long period of time. Virgil’s exhaustion compounded the situation.”

“So what you are saying is that it is Virgil’s fault.”

“It is nobody’s fault, Scott. Sometimes shit just happens.” And there went John’s calm.

Hell.

Virgil fought against lethargy. He knew what would happen next if he didn’t intervene. An agitated John was as dangerous as it was rare. Combine it with an angry Scott and the explosion could take out a building.

Or any bystander brothers.

“He could have died!”

“Don’t you think we know that?!” Oh great, Gordon was in the mix? Mount Vesuvius had competition.

“You’re not the only one who cares about Virgil, you know.” And his littlest brother. The emotion in his voice hurt. Goddamnit, wake up.

He tried to move his body, but nothing responded.

Except his nose. It wrinkled, tingled, and then he was sneezing.

Over the ringing in his ears and the pain in his throat, there was the clatter of moving chairs and shadows fell over his eyelids.

A tentative, “Virgil?” Scott.

He moved the muscles in his face, scrunching up his eyes and nose, attempting to move his eyelids.

Finally a crack, a dip, another crack...and four brothers hovering around his bed. Blink.

“H-y.” And apparently he could talk, but not quite. Another try. “You guys are loud.”

He didn’t miss the smiles that spread over four faces, or the tears in several sets of eyes. His heart softened. “You all okay?”

And the moment broke. Gordon blinked away moisture, Scott looked like he wanted to thump him in the arm, Alan had a stupid grin on his face, and John, John had that calm half smile that said little yet everything at the same time.

Virgil tried to move his hand, but it didn’t respond. “Wha’s wrong with my hands?”

Serious took over the room once again. “There was some paralysis.” Scott held up his hands. “Doctor says it should all come back, it just may take some time.”

Virgil stared at him. “Paralysis?”

“You were bitten by a bug, bro. Several bugs.” Gordon, as always, was so specific.

“A bug?” At least he could turn his head.

“Remember the Fitzroy River floods last week?”

Virgil’s blink was slow, but he remembered. “The three little girls?”

“Uh, yeah.” Gordon ran his fingers through his hair. Only two of the three had made it. “Remember the flowers?”

Flowers? Oh, they had been everywhere. “Wanted to paint some.” To remember little Lily. He closed his eyes for a moment. But that had been a week ago. The flowers had been left on Thunderbird Two. No time.

No time.

“Virg?” Scott’s voice was quiet.

His eyelids were once again heavy to lift. “Yeah?”

Gordon again. “You got yourself infested with some ticks, bro. Nasty ones that can cause paralysis if they are left unattended.”

“Oh.”

Scott spoke up. ”But we found them in time. You’ve got Gordon and John to thank for this one.”

“Thank you.” His voice had become a whisper and his eyelids fighting to droop.

“It will take a while, but you’ll get better.”

“Okay.” And then it was all too much energy and he let his eyelids drop closed.

And he let go.

-o-o-o-

Three weeks.

Three goddamned weeks.

Of embarrassment. Of being unable to do the easiest tasks. Of frustration to the extreme.

Of four brothers, one sister, and one grandmother being both the most wonderful family in existence and the most annoying.

Of course, of all of them, Gordon was the most understanding, as he had been through something similar and could empathise.

Scott was willing to do everything for him to the point that if he saw Virgil attempting it, he would jump in immediately.

Virgil was both grateful and ready to kill him.

John was ever the practical one, providing technical assistance and a quiet presence.

Alan cared a lot, but had no real idea what to do to help. Of course, Virgil the bear was often growling at Scott, so Alan tended to keep near the doorway. But waking up one afternoon to find his littlest brother flaked out in the chair beside his bed, his hand centimetres from his own, did bring a fond smile to Virgil’s face.

But it was Grandma who kept him sane. She kicked out Scott, reassured Alan, relieved Gordon and stopped Kayo from killing nurses. But most of all she sat with him and ran her fingers through his hair at those most frustrating and confronting moments.

And she brushed away his tears when he couldn’t do it himself.

-o-o-o-

Gordon approached Virgil’s room with a little apprehension. His brother had been taking it hard over the last week. Recovery sucked and Gordon had to admit that he was having to face his own paralysis fears as he watched his brother struggle through it all. There had been a few nightmares to make it all the more enjoyable.

But the worst had to be seeing his usually calm and kind brother so frustrated and helpless. Virgil was the powerhouse of IR. He was the guy you went to for help. The rock. He wasn’t used to asking for help. He wasn’t used to being so dependent. It was confronting for all involved.

Gordon understood.

But it didn’t make it any easier.

When he entered, Virgil was on his side in the bed, facing away from him, staring at the window. His family had done their best to brighten up the room for him. He had a digireader at hand, basically a tablet with accessibility turned up to the max and supported by an arm attached to the bed.

A pair of TB2 dice hung from the bedhead. John had installed a holographic interface in the bedside table and a huge communications screen hung from the ceiling, able to show all the TV reruns anyone could ask for.

But Gordon knew it wouldn’t be enough. He had been in the same position, with four similar walls staring at him day in day out.

He so wished his brother didn’t have to go through this.

Stepping into the room quietly, he stood just inside the door, not knowing whether Virgil was awake or asleep and not wanting to disturb if he was the latter. Scott was down in the cafeteria with Grandma. She had dragged him there an hour ago to give Virgil a break. Kayo was doing her rounds of the facility, while John had dragged Alan back to the hotel for a shower.

This gave Gordon the opportunity to spend a few moments with his brother alone.

While it could be said that Scott and Virgil had the legendary relationship in this family, Gordon liked to think that he and his second eldest brother had their own special thing, too. After all, Gordon depended on Virgil for almost every rescue he participated in. He was the voice above the waves, the one who dropped him off and picked him up, and the one who disabled the shower controls just to stir the pot.

A mental snort. Gordon may be the prankster in this family, but he had learnt to never underestimate Virgil. The man played his smarts close to home and could whip out a retort as easily as breathing, if necessary.

And now he was just procrastinating. A sigh.

“So are you going to come in or are you going to just stand there?”

Okay, so he jumped, but he wasn’t going to admit it. Walking around the bed, he found his brother wide awake and watching him. “Hey, bro.”

“Hey, Gordon.”

He grabbed a chair and brought it to the side of the bed, sitting to bring his eyeline a little closer to that of his prone brother. “How was rehab today?”

“Sucked.”

“Usually does. Any progress?”

In answer, Virgil lifted an arm above the bedsheets and onto the edge of the bed. A frown of concentration and his fingers moved as if he was playing the piano, the absence of keys not enough to hide the slow precision of his brother’s artistic reflexes. “Almost able to play again.” He let the hand drop onto the covers. “If I could sit up.”

“It will come.”

“I know.”

A silence descended.

After a moment, the expression of concentration returned to his brother’s face and he continued to tap invisible keys on the side of the bed.

Impulsively, Gordon reached out and placed his hand over Virgil’s stilling the rhythm.

Brown eyes met brown eyes.

“I love you, bro.”

Virgil’s eyes widened.

Gordon looked away for a moment, but didn’t let go, his fingers squeezing his brother’s just gently. “Please don’t do that again.” And he wasn’t referring to the piano playing.

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

A half smile. “Good.” And the smile got wider. “Because next time there will be tarantulas involved.” And he managed a laugh at his brother’s horrified expression. “Yes, tarantulas, at least six, and in your bed. Gotta keep those bugs under control after all.”

And Virgil was smiling at him, the sudden glisten of tears in his eyes.

God, the man was the powerhouse, but he was also a damn big softie.

“Maybe even a scorpion. They have enough attitude to kick your butt into gear.” Yep, that stopped the tears and replaced them with fond exasperation.

“No scorpions, Gordon.”

“Why not? They are such elegant creatures.” A pompous arm emphasised the statement. “Claws of such grace, and that stinger, ooh, just hits the spot.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“One of five.”

“Not six?” And yes, that was a smirk on his brother’s face.

“God, no, even I’m not stupid enough to call Kayo names. I like living.”

A smile and the conversation stopped.

Gordon still had his hand on top of Virgil’s and his brother’s eyes were looking at it.

Another moment.

Quietly. “Thanks, Gordy.”

One last gentle squeeze before he let go.

“Anytime.”

-o-o-o-

“We need to talk.”

It was inevitable. he knew it had been coming and he guessed he was fortunate enough that his big brother waited until he could at least sit up before lambasting him.

“About what, Scott?”

“About operational procedures.”

“What?” Perhaps it wasn’t what he expected. He fiddled with the blankets covering his legs. He was due to leave the hospital tomorrow and he was so looking forward to seeing his own bedroom, with or without the necessary hoverchair.

“Once you are back on duty, you are not to attend more than three rescues in twenty-four hours and for no more than twelve hours at a stretch.”

He stared at his brother. “But what if I’m needed?”

“But that is just it, Virgil, you are always needed.” The commander swallowed. “But I need you more, and I need you alive.”

Virgil continued to stare.

Scott grabbed a seat and sat down beside his bed, putting his arms down on the covers, not quite reaching for his brother, but almost. Voice quiet. “Virg, we nearly lost you. And for a stupid reason. If you hadn’t been so overworked, you would have noticed the issue far earlier. Hell, it may never have become an issue. Those damn ticks have to be attached for days before they become a problem.” His blue eyes glazed over with guilt. “I have been asking too much of you, and it nearly got you killed.”

Virgil reached out and grabbed his brother’s arm, grateful he actually could now. “It was not your fault, Scott. It was mine. I know my limits and I pushed them too far. It’s just...” And he pressed his lips together. “They needed my help. All of them. How can I not give it to them?”

Scott’s hand landed on top of his. “You can only give so much, Virgil. You have to keep something for yourself.”

“And let them die?”

Scott looked away. “We can’t save them all.”

“But you are asking me to turn my back on those I could.”

“You can’t save them if you are dead.” And his brother’s tone was firm and final.

Virgil went back to staring.

Scott pinned him with his eyes. “Think about it. What if it was Alan in that bed? What about Gordon? Apparently he is allergic to ticks. His hand swelled up because one walked across it. What if he had been the one to encounter them at the Fitzroy Floods? How would you feel to be sitting where I am?”

“I...” The words caught in his throat. “Can’t let them die, Scott. Please.”

“I can’t let you die either.” His brother’s lips thinned. “This isn’t about the world needing Virgil Tracy. It is about your brothers, sister and grandmother needing you.” Scott looked down at his hands for a moment. “I can’t lose you, Virg. I just can’t.”

And to Virgil’s horror, his big brother was blinking away tears when he looked up. With a poorly managed smile, Scott untangled himself from Virgil’s hand, stood up and left the room.

His brother left to stare at where he had been.

-o-o-o-

Virgil tentatively reached out and touched the piano keys, his fingers automatically falling into his usual warm up routine.

Notes bounced off the comms room walls and danced out onto the balcony.

A moment devoted to flexing long neglected muscles and he dropped into a simple tune, left hand strumming the chords, right managing the tune.

Just.

He frowned and pushed it, closing his eyes. The tune shifted playing to his emotion, frustration leaking into the higher notes. He forced in determination, weaving a deeper purpose, making his fingers work.

He missed a key and swore under his breath, eyes shooting open and glaring at the keyboard.

Run the riff again.

His dexterity had taken a hit in his illness. He needed to get it back. Practise.

Work damn you.

Repeat.

C’mon.

Concentrate. Calm. Draw in a breath.

He closed his eyes once again and let his fingers find their familiarity.

Play.

The frown came back, but he ignored it, once again forcing it.

Music filled the room.

Until that same key, that same stretch, stuttered.

Goddamnit!

A soft hand landed on his right, drawing his fingers from the keyboard, stealing the music from the air and startling him out of his frustration.

Grandma reached out her other hand and wrapped it around his shoulders as she sat down beside him on the stool. “You have always been such a stubborn boy. Quiet, polite and kind, but as stubborn as a mule.”

“Grandma?”

“No, don’t deny it. And I won’t necessarily say it is a bad thing, stubborn has its uses.” She squeezed his hand again. “But honey, you need to give yourself time.”

“I’m just practising.”

“No, you’re not. You’re forcing it, Virgil.” And she held his hand up gently in her own. It was trembling just slightly.

He glared at it, forming it into a fist to stop it from shaking.

And his grandmother wrapped it in both of her hands. “You know, your father was just the same. Always had to take it just that one step further. Caused no end of trouble for himself and those around him.” She sighed. “Of course, it got him where he needed to go. Five beautiful sons and a dream to save the world.”

She drew his hand to her cheek, and caught his eyes with hers. “And then he had to take that one step further.”

Virgil stared at her. “Grandma?”

“Please, honey, we don’t want to lose you, too.”

His heart clenched, and there must have been something in his reaction, because his grandmother once again put her arm around him and drew him close, resting her head on his shoulder. “Give yourself some time. You are just as valuable as all those people out there. Look after yourself, so you can look after them.”

“Yes, Grandma.” Could he say anything else?

Gently pulling his hand from hers, he reached around and drew her in close. She was so small compared to him. So fragile. He dropped his head to touch her hair.

“Promise me, Virgil.” He almost didn’t hear her whisper.

“Promise, Grandma.” He never could deny her anything.

“Good.”

-o-o-o-

Virgil flexed the muscles in his shoulders, striding past the piano towards his chute. “John, any further information?”

“No, I’ve lost communications with the sub. Gordon is waiting in Thunderbird Four.”

“Well, he’ll just have to wait a moment longer, Two needs to refuel. No fuel, no flight.”

“What about you? You okay?”

He stopped in his tracks. “Uh.”

“Virgil?”

He took a moment, assessing himself. Sure, he was a little tired. A couple of aches were making themselves known, but really nothing too bad. He rolled his shoulders again. “I’m good. Got at least one more rescue in me.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m fine, John.”

“You better be.”

Neoprene creaked a little as he resumed his stride towards his chute.

“Don’t worry, I am.”

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds #Virgil Tracy #Scott Tracy #grandma tracy #Gordon Tracy #nuttyfic reblog #I do have new fic in the works #honest #sorry #thunderwhump

28 notes · View notes

kevinexyqueen · 4 years ago

Text

An fanfic where Neil starded working for the Hatfords after his mom died but he is already dating Andrew and join the foxes anyway

so, andrew and neil meet in juvie when neil was like 14

he stayed there for 3 or 4months while his mother worked some things out

and there he bonded with andrew, told him some trues (he was 14 he was not thar good at keeping secrets yet) , they make a deal, a lot of drama etc etc

and then he has to break out from the place and andrew is like

" i'm going with you"

"no, you're not"

"yes, i am"

andrew can be fucking stubborn so yeah he goes with neil

(he already knows about aaron is a way to put more distance between them)

mary is pissed off, but andrew knows to much and she was not about to kill him

and she sees the way that andrew protect neil so in the end andrew stays with them

is not like someone will put real effort in looking for a foster kid

so she shows andrew how to use a knife (I think she didn't stop teaching neil, is a too valuable habilit)

and also a gun, and i have a headcanon that Andrew is just awful with it, and neil loves to make fun of him

anyway, they protect each other, kill some people, fall in love, learns russian, spar together, normal teenager stuffs

mary does not know, andrew doesn't like her but he doesn't kill her because he knows she is the only reason neil is still alive

they started dating after a year since they meet, so neil was 15 and andrew 16

idk neils/nathaniels age makes me confuse

also, andrew convinces neil to play exy without she knowing

(btw i forgot to mention neil was stefan when thet meet and alex when seattle happens)

and well like a just said Seattle happens

and after that neil can't just keep running, he won't be responsible for Andrew death as well

sooo, yep he calls stuart

Stuart tells them all the moriyamas bullshit, etc etc

they go to the FBI, neils is officially neil abraam josten, Andrew becames andrew minyard etc

after that andrew goes to live with aaron and Neil goes to england, it was safer that way for both of them

STUART KILLS NATHAN/LOLA YEAHH

continuing, they keep dating, long distance and all, andrew goes to england every month at least and do little jobs for neil's family

neil only do some translation works and he is pretty good at making deals (the irony) so he deals with a lot of other mobs family's and is like a lot people think he should become head of the family but that's a long history

anyway, all the canon shit with Andrew happens the same way, Tilda, Nicky, he turning down the ravens and he join the foxes

but he has some Hatford people watching over him so he doesn't beat all those man alone and doesn't take his meds (just needs to see a therapist for a couple of years)

even with all the Mafia shit neil still plays exy and he is better than he is in canon since he have been practicing with andrew for a few years (and also he spars with andrew so hr is a wayyyy better fighter and he also uses the knifes cause of andrew insistence and again all the mafia shit)

anyway, the Hatfords know about them but Andrew's family/the foxes (same thing, no?) doesn't

they come with a plan to take down the moriyamas and i have that in my head but don't know how to explain

but neils deals with a lot of mafia family's right? so like if the moriyamas kill him the Hatfords and idk the chinese as well will take revenge, and the moriyamas would loose since they are dealing with a war in japan and kengo is in hospital, nathan is dead etc etc

so, too much trouble to kill neil, so neil makes a peace offer with ichirou that while he is in the eau he won't kill him or the other foxes

so like, if rikos touches them he will be carving his own grave, and thats the whole point, cause Kevin's hand proven that riko's doesn't have any self control so the fucking plan is making riko angry

and we all know how good neil is at this, andrew is not happy

so yeah, neil needs to join some exy team and of course he will join the foxes because his bf right

NOW EVERYONE FINDING OUT ABOUT NEIL

because like, they are together for years, and not as much hurt as they are in canon, they didn't feel the need to tell anyone but they also doesn't care to hide and yes they hold hand in public and things like this

now neil only come on the same day the upperclassmen return cause there was no need for him to come early

so, like a hour before the reunion in the lounge andrew is like hey everybody in the car now or you're walking

and everyone is like ???? especially when andrew makes kevin go in the backseat

and he goes to the airport and nobody understands nothing, until neil comes

and he just completely ignores everyone im the backseat (yes even Kevin) and looks at andrew >that way< and andrew is a man in love, so he leans and gives neil a quick kiss and neil smiles at him and with a fucking soft voice says "hey baby"

andrew did not blush

anyway they started driving and andrew has his hand on neils leg and aaron, nicky and kevin are just fucking shook, they have no reaction at all, no words nothing because WTF

so when neils turns and says "hey guys, i'm neil" and is meet with three shocked faces staring at him he is trying so hard not to laugh and just goes "are you all okay"

nicky's is the first to recover and well... nicky... "ANDREW, WTF, YOU HAVE A BOYFRIEND, WHY DIDN'T U TOLD US, WHAT ABOUT REENE, WHAT"

andrew ignores him and turns on the radio, neil lights a cigarette and they start talking in russian

aaron doesn't say a word

anyway, neils fly was a little late so they're the last ones at the stadium

so when they enter the lounge and andrew is waking with some scary dude (because yeah neil can be pretty and scary) and when they sit in the sofa with thights to shoulders touching everyone is like what the fucking hell

aaron and nicky find some other place to sit, neil does some remark and they start talking in russian and yeah they don't know if they should ignore or no

until dan breaks the spell by asking since when andrew speaking russian and andrew just look at her completely bored until neil answers her

after that wymack (which as always is so fucking done) asks if they have some more languages to show off or if they could start

they both deadpan "yes there is" but are ignored

anyway during the reunion some try to ask questions but wymack stops them and neil and andrew just glare at the person and that's enough to make they shut up

until Aaron makes some shitty remark about both of them in german and neil goes to protective mood and roast aaron in the same language

nicky has to stop aaron from punching Neil (and andrew won the bet he made with Stuart about someone trying to punch neil before neil punches someone

and again wymack is so done

and then they break the news about the ravens coming south

which andrew and neil already know because Hatfords

andrew is still pissed off at kevin

and then neils says (on purpose) something about the moriyamas and everyone is staring at him like????

and the he just smile a little >that smile< and says "you really don't remember me kevin"

he wasn't wearing contacts or anything like that so Kevin's recognizes him

it's caos

but i'm to tired to keep writing sorry

#the word anyway was overused #thay just crossed my mind i know ots shitty #but hey if someones wanna make it to a fic talk to me please #andrew and neil being together for years and shooking everyone #i live for that #imagine the foxes reaction seeing them sparing and neils kicks Andrew's ass #i live for that too #aftg #all for the game #all for the game headcanon #all for the gay #neil josten #andrew minyard #foxes reaction #tfc headcanon

242 notes · View notes

noladyme · 4 years ago

Text

The Crown Princess of Charming - part 2

Welcome to Charming - its name says it all. Cat needed a fresh start; and though she hadn’t planned on that being in the arms of the crown prince of this little town’s bikerclub - that was what happened. This Charming CA would either be the death of her - or a whole new life.

Rated M

Tag-list

@wolf-lover-bookdragon

@wonderlandfandomkingdom

The following Monday, I got up early; excited for my new job – and admittedly still reeling from the night I’d had at the clubhouse with Jax. He’d texted me before I even got back to motel; and when I looked at my phone in my room, I blushed. - thanks for coming tonight. Miss you already – J I’d answered immediately. - I’m sure there are crow-eaters enough at the clubhouse to hold you over ;-) 5 minutes later my phone vibrated. - None of them taste like pancakes. Or have your pretty eyes. I was grinning like an idiot. - Goodnight, Jackson :-) - Night, babe ;-)

I’d spent the Sunday relaxing and watching bad tv; once in a while answering a text from Jax. They were mostly just thinking of you, messages; a few of them with raunchy subtext – but they kept the fire in my belly burning.

This morning I put on my favorite knee-length summer dress. Even though it was October; California was still hot; and the dress was cool enough to make the heat bearable; but still conservative enough for work. I decided to leave the top button undone. Now shame in flaunting the ladies, I smiled to myself. My necklace on, and a light makeup – and I was off.

My “new” chevy ran like a dream, and I arrived to my first workday in style – if you consider classic cars and dog-smell, style. My new coworkers were all friendly; and there was a bouquet of pink roses on my desk when I walked into my class-room. There was no card attached.

Last period was 6’th grade English. During roll-call, I noticed Opie’s daughter – Ellie – at the back of the room. I sent her a knowing smile; and her lip twitched in response. She seemed shy. After 45 minutes of analyzing The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe; class was dismissed. Ellie walked up to me, once all the other kids had left the room.

“Miss Rose?”, she said quietly. “What’s up, Ellie?”, I smiled. “Lyla wants to know if you can come over for coffee tomorrow”, the girl said. “Tell her I’d love to. At your house?”. Ellie nodded. “Lyla’s kind of my stepmom”, she muttered. “She’s nice”, I smiled. Ellie smiled. “Yeah, I think so”. I packed up my things to finish for the day. “So, after school tomorrow?”, I asked. Ellie nodded. “I’ll give you a ride home then”, I said. “You can show me the way”. The girl grinned at me.

As I left my classroom, I was met by by the principal. “Mr. Thoms!”, I said. “Please, Catherine, call me Ray”, the man smiled. “Ray”, I grinned. “I just stopped by to see how your first day went”, the man said. “It’s been great. The kids are amazing; and you’ve all been so welcoming. Thanks for the flowers on my desk!”. Ray looked in to my classroom. “They’re lovely, but I don’t think we got you any flowers”, he smiled awkwardly. “Oh… must have been some of the kids”, I said. “Must have”, the principal answered. “Well; once again, welcome. I think you’ll be a good addition to the staff. I know there was an issue with your records, though…”. I flushed red. “Yes. I… there was a misunderstanding at my old school”, I said. “I promise you won’t have any problems with me, sir”. Ray nodded, and clenched his jaw. “I’m sure we won’t… nevertheless; I’m afraid you’ll have to do regular drug-testing”, he said. “I’m sorry, Catherine, but it’s out of my hands”. I nodded. “I understand. I’ll do whatever’s necessary”, I said. “But I must admit I’m confused. I thought those accusations were erased from my records”. Ray shrugged. “I received an addition to them l this morning. I was told they’d been forgotten in the transfer”. I frowned.

Ray shook my hand; and smiled. “Don’t worry. We all have our pasts to deal with. It’s the teacher you are now that matters”. He walked to his office; and left me behind – deeply confused; and extremely frustrated.

---

The next day I had coffee with Lyla at Opie’s house. He had left on some club business, the night before.

“Is it hard to just sit here, and not know when he’ll be home?”, I asked, sipping at the perfect cup of caffeine she’d made. “This is good!”, I added. “Thanks. I used to work at a coffee-shop before I went into the business”. She didn’t mention what that business was. She continued. “It is hard, but I know his brothers have his back”. I frowned. “Why do they need to have each other’s backs? Lyla sighed. “What they do… it’s not always legal”. I nodded solemnly. “What about TM?”. She shook her head. “Being a mechanic doesn’t exactly pay well”, she smiled. “They do have the studio going for them”. “What studio?” “Cara Cara”, she said quietly. “Porn. It’s where I work”. I almost choked on my coffee. “I knew I recognized you”, I smiled. She seemed uncomfortable for a second. “I love your work”, I added. Lyla chuckled. “I didn’t think you’d be a fan of porn”, she grinned. “I have the internet”, I laughed. “But I’ll stay away from your movies from now on. It’d be weird, seeing as you’re Ellies stepmom”.

We laughed for a while. “You heard from Jax since the party?”, she asked. I nodded. “We talk… He texted me this morning. Just a hello”. She smirked. “He likes you”. “He doesn’t know me”, I muttered. “He knows enough, I think”, she replied. “I haven’t seen him like this before. He’s usually a one-night kind of guy”. I bit my lip nervously. “We didn’t…”, I muttered. She put her hand on top of mine. “Still… he’s different around you”, she said. “Softer”. “I’d hope not”, I smirked. Lyla widened her eyes at me and chuckled. “Slut!”, she giggled. I shrugged.

Finishing our coffee, and saying goodbye to the kids – lending Ellie my copy of Coraline – I left Opie’s house, and walked over to my car. I could have sworn that I locked it, but it was open when I got there. “Weird”, I muttered to myself; but it was old, and I figured something was wrong with the locks. I’d have TM take a look at it.

---

Once at the garage, I was met by Gemma, who was carrying Abel on her hip. “Hey, sweetheart”, she smiled. “Chevy treating you ok?”. I smiled and nodded. “Yeah, but I think something’s wrong with the locks. I locked it, but it was open when I got back”. Gemma frowned. “That sounds weird… let the guys take a look at it”, she said. “Coffee?”. “I just got here from coffee with Lyla”, I said. “Still amped on caffeine”. Gemma chuckled. “Well, this little guy kept me up all night”, she said, and bounced Abel on her arm. “So I’m having a cup. Follow me”.

Gemma told one of the guys in the garage to look at my locks, and we walked into her office. “Could you take him?”, she said; and lifted Abel of her hip; handing him to me. “Uhm… yeah”, I said; taking the baby in my arms. “Hey little man!”, I smiled at the beautiful boy.

Gemma nearly downed a full mug off coffee in one go. “Wow; he did keep you up”, I laughed. “He’s like his dad – always at it at all hours of the day”, Gemma grinned. I frowned, and sat down on the little couch; still holding Abel in my arms. “Doesn’t he live with Jackson?”, I asked. Gemma nodded. “I take him when the guys need to do some work”, she said. “Jax’ll be back in a little while. Probably having had less sleep than me”.

Abel began fussing; and I shushed him, kissing his forehead. “You better get used to that, if you’re sticking around”, Gemma said earnestly. “I… don’t know what… it’s new”. Gemma nodded; and looked at me softly bouncing Abel on my arm; holding him against my shoulder. “You’re good with him”, she said. “Who?”, I smirked. “Both of them”, she said. “Keep it up”.

We talked about this and that for a while – Gemma letting me in on the story with Jax’s father, and how he’d passed away from a motorcycle accident. She seemed sad about the loss; but made it clear she was happy with Clay. “He’s as stubborn as an ass; but I’m even more so”, she smiled proudly. “He started the club with JT – Jackson’s father”. “And now Jax is the VP”, I said; feeling Abel fall asleep in my arms. “Yeah”, she smiled. “I guess that’s how it goes”. I nodded.

A bearded mechanic stepped in to the office. “Gem’; I can’t find anything wrong with the lock. Are you sure you locked it, miss?”, he said to me. I frowned. “Must have turned the key the wrong way…”, I said. Gemma narrowed her eyes at me. “It’s been a long couple of days, huh?”, she said. “Day’s. Weeks. Months…”, I chuckled, and handed back Abel to her. He was fully asleep. “I’m gonna take off. What do I owe you?”. “Not a thing”, Gemma smiled. “See you later, Cat”. I nodded. “See you”.

I drove back to my motel room, and made myself a light dinner; exhaustion taking over me in spite of the coffee Lyla had made. I went to sleep early; hearing motorcycles driving down the street outside.

---

I woke up to my phone ringing. “Hello?”, I rasped. “Hey, Cat”. I could practically hear Jax’s smile through the phone. “Hi”, I answered. “What’s up? What time is it?”. “7 am. I’m outside. Buy you breakfast?”. I stumbled out of bed. “You’re outside?”. He chuckled. “Yeah. Come on. The guy at the reception is giving me the stink eye”. “I’ll be there in 5”, I said. “See you”. He hung up.

I threw on what was cleanest – jeans, tank top and a cardigan – and grabbed my workbag. I decided mascara and eyeliner would have to do today. Jax was just going to have to deal with the dark circles under my eyes. I brushed my teeth, and was out the door.

Jax was leaning against his bike; when I got outside. His eyes lit up when he saw me. “Hey, darlin’!”, he grinned. He put one hand on my waist, and another on my cheek; pulling me in for a light kiss. “You smell nice”. “I call it eau de just got out of bed”, I chuckled. “Hot”, Jax jeered. I made a pfft sound; and took the helmet he handed me.

He drove us to a diner near my school. We got in a booth; Jackson deciding to sit next to me, instead of on the other side of the table. The way he sat was almost protective. He put his arm behind me; and shielded me from the window. “Is something wrong?”, I asked. He frowned. “Nah, it’s nothing”, he said. “Just wanted you close”. He kissed my cheek.

We ordered coffee and waffles; with enough chocolate syrup to feed a small country – Jax’s exact words to the waitress.

“How’ve you been since last time I saw you?”, he asked. “Good. Work’s busy”, I said; trying to look sincere. “Why don’t I believe you?”. He narrowed his eyes at me. I sighed deeply. “They’re making me do mandatory drug testing because of my records”. He frowned. “I thought you got that erased”, he said. “Me too”, I muttered. “It’s fine, though. Ray’s been good about it. I’ll do tests every fortnight for 6 months, then once a month for the rest of the year”.

He took my hand. “I’m sorry, darlin’”, he said quietly, and kissed my knuckles. I smiled. “I’ll be ok”.

Our food arrived not long after; and Jax chowed down as if he hadn’t eaten in days. “Hungry, huh?”, I grinned. “Hell yeah. I haven’t had proper meal since the buffet at my moms party”. I pulled a face. “Aw, man. I missed a buffet…”. “It was good”, he teased. “I get it though. I was coming on a bit strong”. I blushed. “I didn’t mind”, I muttered. He squeezed my thigh. “Good. I’ll keep it up then”. His words sent delightful shivers through my body.

We chatted about our last couple of days; with Jax making an impression of Abels face when he’d tried to feed him mushed peas the night before. “I’m telling you; the kid looked at me like I was trying to poison him!”. I laughed. “At least he’s not pushing peas up his nose, yet”, I grinned. “What?”, Jax laughed. “I had a 6’thgrader do that at lunch on my first day at the school”, I said. “His friends dared him. He got it so far up there, I had to have him do a handstand; as I tried to get it out”. “You’re a hero, babe”, Jax grinned.

We enjoyed the last of our coffee; as Jax put my hand to his lips again. “I know this is still really early; but there’s something here – right?”, he said; looking at me earnestly. I bit my lip. “I think so”, I said. He slid his index finger under my chin, to raise it – and kissed me softly. “I want to give it a shot. I know you’re new in town, but… I dunno”. “What?”, I asked. “This is going to sound like a bad movie; but I think you were meant to come here. I was meant to meet you”. He kissed me again; and stroked my cheek. “I’m not going to pressure you in to anything; I know you’ve had enough of that in your life”.

I sighed, and turned my face to kiss his palm. “When you’re around I feel safe and happy”, I said. “And I really like spending time with you… and your kid”. He smirked. “Yeah, Gemma told me you stopped by TM. Got the little dude to fall asleep within minutes”. “I hope I don’t have the same effect on his dad”, I smirked. “I’m sure you’d be able to keep me up all night”, Jax chuckled. I bit my lip, and blushed.

The waitress came over with our check, and we got on Jax’s bike, so he could drive me to work. We said goodbye with a long kiss – making some kids walking by drop their jaws. “Bye, Cat”, Jax whispered in my ear. He didn’t drive off until I was inside.

---

At the end of the school day, Jax had promised to pick me up again. I was waiting in my classroom as promised; when Opie showed up – filling out the doorframe. “Hey, Cat”, he said. “Jax was held up, so I promised to give you a lift home”. I hid my disappointment, and smiled at him. “Thanks, Opie”. “No worries”, he said. “I’m picking up Ellie too”.

We walked down the hall. “How’s she doing?”, Opie asked quietly. “Ellie?” asked. He nodded. “I haven’t known her any longer than a couple of days”. Opie sighed. “Can you say anything?”.

I bit my lip. “She’s ok, I think. She’s really trying to improve her schoolwork; at least in my class”. “Well, she likes you”, he smiled. “Told me to read that Caroline book to her”. “Coraline, yeah”, I smiled. “It’s a good one”. “Could you find us another one?”, the tall man asked. “We almost finished it already. I know she’s too old for bedtime stories…”. “I’ll look at my collection”, I smiled. “And you’re never too old for bedtime stories”.

Opie stopped me just before the main doors of the building. “I’m worried about her. Kenny too”, he muttered. “They lost their mom. They have every right to be acting out or feeling sad… so do you”, I said. He sent me a crooked smile. “I guess so”. I put my hand on his shoulder. “Look, Opie…”, I began. “From what I’ve been told about your kids… Ellie is a perfectly strong and healthy pre-teen. She’s got a lot to work through; but she’s doing it. It’s not going to be ok tomorrow… but maybe the day after. You know what I’m saying?”. He nodded at me, and smiled again. “Thanks, teach’”. Opie squeezed my hand. “You’re a good one”.

---

Opies house was on the way to my motel; so he dropped of his kids with Lyla, before driving me home. He walked me to my door; a move I thought was kind – if a bit overprotective. “Promised Jax”, he smiled shyly. I nodded.

My door was unlocked. My breath hitched a bit, before I stepped inside. On the nightstand stood a vase with a dozen pink roses. I breathed heavily; and grabbed the card attached. - A dozen roses for my Kitty Rose. J.

“Jax ain’t never been much of a poet”, Opie chuckled. “It’s not Jax”, I muttered. “Will you get rid of them for me?”. Opie frowned. “Sure…”, he said. “Is something wrong?”. I shook my head. “No. It’s nothing. Really”. I tried to smile. “I’m just allergic”.

Opie narrowed his eyes, and took the vase. “See you around”, he said. “Put on the security chain, ok?”. I nodded. “Bye”.

As soon as I had put on the chain, I called the motel reception. The woman on duty told me she’d accepted the flowers from a delivery-guy; and that she’d put them in my room herself. She was sure she’d locked the door; and apologized profusely. I thanked her, and hung up. He’s not here, I repeated to myself. He’s not here…

About 15 minutes later, my phone rang. I picked it up hesitantly. “Yes?” “Babe, are you ok?”. Jax’s voice was worried. I exhaled deeply. “Yeah. I’m fine”. Jax wasn’t satisfied with my answer. “Ope said you were out of it”. I didn’t answer. “Cat? Talk to me”. “Flowers”, I said. “H-he sent me flowers”. I could hear him grind his teeth in rage. “Stay there. I’m coming to get you”. “Jax, no”, I said. “I’m fine. He’s not here”. “Cat, I’m not gonna…”. “Stay where you are, Jackson”, I insisted. “Opie said you were in the middle of something. I’ll see you around, ok?”. His voice shifted. “Are you mad at me?”, he asked. “No, Jax… I’m just… It’s been a long day. I need to get some rest”. “Yeah”, he muttered. “Sorry I wasn’t there”. “It’s ok, babe”. I tried to show my smile in my voice. “I know you would have been, if you could”. He sighed. “Yeah, I would”, he said. “Jax, I need to take a nap”. My head was spinning from exhaustion. “Ok. I’ll call tomorrow”. “I’d like that”, I muttered. “Bye”. “Bye…”.

---

I got a good morning text shortly after I woke. I was relieved, as I’d been worried, I’d pushed Jax away after our conversation.

- Good morning, beautiful. The kid just puked on my sneakers; and I thought of you. - That’s flattering. Good morning to you! - It was green. I think it’s the peas. Your tits looked amazing in that tank top yesterday. - Try potatoes instead. Thanks. So did yours. - My tits? Yeah, I try. - Have a good day, Jackson ;-) - I will if I get to see you at some point.

I was hoping he’d have time to see me that day – with all his business dealings.

My wish was fulfilled that same afternoon. Ellie was giving me back Coraline; and I lent her Pippi Longstocking. “I know it’s about a 9-yearold; but it’s really good. Give it a chance”. Ellie smiled and thanked me.

“Hey!”, someone said from the door. Jax was smiling brightly at us. “Your dad is outside, Els’”. The girl whispered bye, and walked by Jackson, earning a kiss at the top of her head from her dad’s friend. “See you later, sweetheart”, Jax smiled at the girl.

The lanky biker walked in to my classroom. “Wow”, he said. “It even smells the same”. I chuckled. “Your old classroom?”, I asked. “Yeah”, he smiled. “It hasn’t changed much”.

He walked up to a table in the back; wiping the surface. “Ha!”, he called out in glee. “Even the same desk”. I walked up next to him, and looked at what he was smiling about. Someone – probably Jackson himself – had carved the words Jax SOA into the surface. “Badass”, he chuckled.

I laughed. “So nothing’s changed, huh?”, I smiled. He put his hand on my cheek. “Well, the teacher didn’t look this cute”, he smirked; and leaned in – pecking softly at my lips. Heat went straight to my core; and I shook myself – clearing my throat. “I need to finish up”, I smiled, biting my lips. “Yeah…”, Jax muttered, and slid his other hand around my waist; kissing me again. “I think I remember there being a broom closet down the hall…”. I chuckled. “I’m not getting fired the first week of work!”, I said. He exhaled. “Ok”. He kissed my cheek, and stepped away.

I packed up the rest of my things, and we left the room. Walking down the hall I sent a friendly hello to a coworker. She looked from Jax to me, and smiled knowingly. “You’re pretty famous around here”, I said. “Yeah… I set the bleachers on fire once”, he said, almost proudly. “I’ve set a few fires myself”, I smiled. He looked at me in wonder. “You?”, he chuckled. I looked at him with mock menace. “There are things you don’t know…”. He slid his arm around my shoulder. “I’m sure there are, darlin’”.

Once outside, Jax walked me to my car. I saw Ellie getting into a truck with Opie; and waved at them. Ellie smiled, and waved back, and Opie looked at his daughter with pure love. “He seems nice”, I said. Jax nodded solemnly. “He’s my best friend since we were in diapers. I trust him with my life”. His eyes were earnest and warm.

“Why did you decide to drop by?”, I asked. “I missed your face”, he smiled. “And, I gotta leave town for a few days”. I bit my lip. “Where are you going?”. He shook his head. “Best you don’t know”, he said. “Not everything I do is… auto-parts”. I nodded. “I kind of figured that out on my own”, I muttered. He looked at me nervously. “Is that a problem?”, he asked. I shrugged; not knowing what to say. “You’re not the only one with a past… but I doubt mine is as dark as yours”.

I bit my lip; and he stroked my cheek. “If you want to pull out of this; I get it”. I shook my head. “We just started this”, I said. “Can we just figure it out as we go?”. “Sure”, Jax smiled; and leant in to kiss me again.

Our lips were like made to meet. He nibbled at my top lip, as I suckled at his lower one. He groaned against my mouth. “Shit, Cat”, he breathed. “You’re making it hard to walk away from you”. I smiled; and pecked at his lips once more, before pushing against his chest; forcing him to step back. He squeezed my hip for a second before letting go. “All right”, he said. “I’ll call you, ok?”. I nodded. “When will you be back?”. “Sunday, hopefully”, he said. “See you then?”. “Sure”, I smiled. “Take care”. He raised his chin at me, and grinned. “Always”.

Jax got on his bike, and drove off.

---

The next day dragged along. Jax called me in the evening, but sounded very far away, and like he had his mind on other things. “Sorry babe. Things are… busy”. “I get it. Just be careful, and call me tomorrow”. I heard a loud pop; like firework. “I will. Bye”. He hung up.

Saturday; I went to lunch with Lyla. It was good to have a new friend; Lyla was funny and intelligent - and she had the best advice on getting the tastiest caffeine kicks. I didn’t hear from Jackson all day.

He neither called or texted Sunday morning or afternoon either. I was getting nervous that he’d changed his mind; and even more nervous that something had happened to him. Finally – at around 5 pm – my cell rang. I didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”, I said. “Hey, darlin’”, Jax’s voice sounded. “Hey…”, I answered with relief. “Sorry I didn’t call before. It’s been a day…”. He sounded tired. “Are you ok?”, I muttered. “Yeah, just happy to hear your voice”, he answered. “I’ll be back in town at around 8 pm. Is that too late for a drink?”. “What, at the clubhouse?”, I asked. “Yeah”, he said. “I need to drop off some stuff there”. “I’ll be there”. I heard him sigh in relief. It made me smile. “Good… I missed you”, he said. “I’ll see you there”, I smiled. “See you, Cat”. He hung up.

At 8.15 I arrived at TM. I’d walked; hoping for a ride home from my knight on his mechanical steed. Jax was smoking a cigarette on the picnic table where we’d shared our first kiss. He looked tired.

When he saw me, he stood up, and walked over to embrace me. His arms enveloped me; as if he was drawing energy from me. He smelled my hair. “I missed you, dollface”, he muttered; and lifted my chin to kiss me. I pecked his lips softly; putting my hands on his firm, flannel-covered chest. “You’re never gonna settle on a nickname for me, huh?”, I smiled. “How can I, when you’re all the things I call you?”, he smirked; and met lips again. “Let’s get you a drink”.

We walked in to the clubhouse; which was a lot less crowded than the last time I’d been there. In the light of the room, I saw that Jax had a bruise on his cheekbone. “What happened?”, I asked. He shook his head. “Business deal that could have gone better”.

I saw that both Happy and Juice’s faces were bruised; and Chibs was stitching up a wound on Tig’s shoulder. “Jax…”, I said. He took my hand. “Don’t worry about it”, he smiled. “We’re fine”. I sighed. “Is this normal?”. “Lately, more so”, Jackson muttered. “Can we just have that drink now? I want to think about something else”. I nodded.

We had a beer together; Jax’s hand resting on my knee as we sat by the bar. He let his thumb stroke my leg, sending small warm signals to my core. I bit my lip. “Do you need a ride home?”, Jax asked. I noticed the clock nearing 10. “Don’t you have to get home to Abel?”, I said. “Mom’s got him until tomorrow”, he smiled. “Then, yeah. Thanks”, I smiled.

---

We drove back to the motel.

Jax walked me to my door, holding my hand all the way. “You gonna be ok?”, he asked softly. “Yeah…”, I said; running my thumb across his jawline. “Do… you want to stay?”. He raised his brows at me. “You know I do, darlin’”, he said. “But, like I said a couple of days ago… I don’t want to push you into doing anything you’ll regret”. I sighed. “I… had a couple of days to think”.

He exhaled deeply and gave me a crooked smile. “If I go in to that room with you, we both know what’s going to happen”. “Would it make you think less of me?”, I asked. “Not at all”, he said honestly. “But you have to be sure, because if I… I don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself”, he chuckled.

“Then come in. And don’t stop”. I grabbed a hold of his cut; and pulled him in for a kiss. He groaned against me. “Shit, babe… what are you doing to me?”, he muttered against my lips. “Nothing good, I hope”, I smirked.

I opened the door, and stepped inside, waiting for him to follow. He bit his lip, and his blue eyes searched mine for a second – before he stepped inside, closing and locking the door behind him.

“Why?”, he asked. “Because whatever I don’t know about you, can’t outweigh what I’ve seen so far. You’re a good guy, and I think…”.

He interrupted my sentence by kissing me; and pulling me flush against his body. “Let me know if you change your mind at any point”. I nodded. “Don’t worry”, I smiled. “Just keep kissing me”. He smiled brightly, and put a hand behind my head; pulling my lips to his again. Our tongues met; and the soft touch of his, sent shivers down my spine. What else can you do with that tongue?

Continuously kissing me; he backed me towards the edge of the bed. I felt it against the back of my knees; and almost fell backwards; Jacksons hand on my back the only thing keeping me standing. He shrugged off his cut; leaving him in his blue flannel and a t-shirt. I ran my hands up his torso; relishing in the sensation of his firmness – and then pushed his shirt down his shoulders, helping him take that off as well.

Jackson grabbed the hem of my top; and pulled it up. I raised my arms in the air, so he could pull it off me. He looked down at my chest. “Yeah… that’s just about the most perfect thing I’ve seen all week”, he smirked. “Just about?”, I teased. “You’re still wearing a bra”, he said. He ran his hands down my sides; stopping at the tattoo on my left rib. “You’re inked”, he smiled. “I’ve got a few”, I answered. “I’ll have to go exploring”, he said; pulling up my hand to his face, kissing the tiny one on the inside of my wrist.

I tugged at his t-shirt; and he pulled it off quickly, leaving his torso bare. Abel was written in intricate lettering on his chest. I stroked my fingers across it, and smiled warmly. He caught my smile with his lips; stroking my arms. “Here’s another”, he said, finding the ink on the back on my arm. “That all?”. “Yeah”, I said. “No, wait. There’s one on my foot”. He pushed me down to sit on the bed; leaving me face to face with the growing bulge on the front of his jeans. “Which foot?”. “Right one”, I smiled.

He crouched down in front of me, and pulled of my right ankle-boot and sock. “Cute”, he said, sliding his index finger over the tiny lettering on my foot. It tickled, and I giggled. “Sorry”, he laughed. “It’s fine”, I said; and pulled his head towards me to kiss me again.

He tugged at my lower lip, and I brushed my fingers down his back. Moving his lips to my neck; I could lean forward and see the large tattoo there. He nibbled gently at my skin; and a rush of blood went to my core; making me moan a little. “Did I find your spot?”, he breathed. “Mhmm…”, I said, biting my lip “I’ll keep that in mind”, he chuckled.

He stood up again; and I hooked my fingers into his waistband. His breath caught, and I felt the fabric twitch from his growing erection. He undid his belt-buckle for me; and I unbuttoned his jeans; tugging at them. He pulled them off; and was now standing in front of me in a pair of white boxers – pitching an impressive tent. I bit my lips in glee; and wrapped my hand around his clothed member. Jackson gasped. “Shit, babe. I’ll let you play with it all you want, but I want you naked first”.

He pushed me to lie down; leaning over me – supporting himself on his elbows – to put his lips to mine. He put a hand on my breast; and kissed and nibbled at the lace on my bra. “Can I take this off?”, he asked; his eyes searching mine. I supported myself on my elbows, and his hands slid behind me – unhooking the unwanted garment. He pulled it off me, and stared at my breasts in wonder. “Wow…”, he said. “That is… something”, he muttered. He pushed my breasts together; and wrapped his lips around my nipple, tugging at it softly. I gasped at the sensation. Sparks flew straight from my nipple to my core, and I mewled in response.

Jax began kissing down my stomach, ending up at the waistband of my jeans. “I guess asking is kind of redundant at this point, huh?”, he smirked up at me; and I grinned at him. He unbuttoned my jeans; and tugged at them; as I lifted my hips, to help him maneuver them off me. Quickly discarding my other boot and sock; he pulled of my pants completely; throwing them behind him. I was now laying before him in nothing but my panties.

He looked me over, and narrowed his eyes. “You said there was no more ink”. His fingers stroked the small tattoo on my thigh. “Woops”, I smirked. “Forgot”. He tsk’d at me. “How am I going to be able to trust you’re not hiding anything else?”, he said; and squeezed the skin around my tattoo; making me jolt from the sweet pain. “There really isn’t”, I laughed. He hooked his fingers into my panties; tugging at them. “Need to be sure…”, he muttered; and pulled my underwear off me; leaving me finally naked. He raised his brows, and smiled crookedly. “That’s… better than a tattoo”. I giggled in response.

Jackson slid his hands up my thighs; letting his fingers rest on my hips – his thumbs stroking my soft curls. He exhaled deeply. “This right here… I could get used to this”, he smiled; and kissed the soft skin just above my pubic hair. His warm breath against my private parts, made me jolt again. He lowered his lips to my folds; and placed a soft kiss on my bud. “Shit”, I mewled. I heard him chuckle; and his tongue flicked against the bundle of nerves – before he gently slid his finger between my labia; stroking up and down. His tongue replaced his finger; taking the same path. I put my hand on his head, grabbing at his hair. “Don’t worry; I’m not going anywhere”, he smiled against me; before continuing his slow assault on my folds.

His finger began tracing the outline of my entrance. I was gasping and moaning. My walls were already throbbing from want. His finger made its way inside me; soon joined by another. Jax flattened his tongue; and licked upwards; before his lips closed around my nub; suckling at it. “Jax…”, I gasped. “Mhmm…?”, he mumbled; not taking his lips away from their target. “Just… more… don’t stop”.

My legs were twitching; and he used his free arm to hold down my hips. I looked down at him; and his eyes were smiling devilishly at me. He suckled a bit harder; and his fingers crooked – pushing at my front wall. “Please…”, I breathed. “Mmm…”, he responded.

The fingers inside me pushed harder and faster; though still carefully. He was trying to figure out what made me tick. His tongue massaged my labia, and he flicked it over my clit, drawing a loud moan from me. My walls clenched around his fingers; and I came undone. I cried out, as I orgasmed against his face. Jax lapped up my juices, and slowed down his movements again, letting me ride out my pleasure.

He looked up at me. “How was that?”, he smiled. “Holy shit”, I gasped, and laughed. My body was trembling; and he climbed up next to me; gently pulling his fingers out of me in the process. He wiped his face and beard of my juices; and kissed me gently. I wrapped my leg around his hip; and ran my hand down his torso; palming his penis. My arms and legs we’re still shaking slightly; and I massaged his bulge. “Do you want…”, I began. “Some other time, babe”, he smiled. “Gives me something to look forward to. Right now; I want to get inside you”. He stood up and pulled down his boxers; making me gawk at the perfect specimen in front of me. “I’m ok with that…”, I smiled, and bit my lip.

I moved back on the bed; so my feet were no longer on the floor. Jackson crawled over me; his hardness poking at my thighs. He stroked my cheek; and I pulled his face down to kiss him; running my tongue across his lower lip. “Careful. This might end sooner than I’d want it to”, he groaned. I chuckled; and took a hold of his penis; guiding it towards my warmth.

Making his tip slick with my juices; I pushed him against my entrance. He slid into me slowly – letting me adjust to his size. “Shit, you’re tight”, he breathed. “Maybe you’re just big”, I moaned. “Keep talking, baby. I’m liking the words coming out your mouth”, he chuckled; pushed into me fully – bottoming out.

We moaned in unison. Jax began moving; grabbing my thigh, to put my leg around his hip. His thrusts were controlled – gentle. My hands on his back; I could feel his muscles working under his skin, as he pulled his body back and forth on top of me. I pulled him towards me; wanting to feel his weight. His chest touching my nipples made me moan.

Jax moved his hand from my thigh to my ass-cheek; digging his fingers into it. “Let me know if I’m too rough”, he panted. “More”, I breathed, and he smiled in response; bottoming out again. “Oh… God!”, I mewled. “It’s just me, babe”, Jackson chuckled. “I’m liking this look on you”. He kissed me deeply; and I ran my nails down his back; feeling his hardness fill me up perfectly.

Jax pulled out of me; leaving me aching for more. “Turn around”, he whispered. I rolled over; and he ran his hand down my back; before squeezing both my cheeks. “Perfect”, he said; and kissed the dimples at the small of my back – before guiding me to get on my knees; chest still on the mattress.

Jax pushed in to me again; hitting that perfect spot his fingers had found before. I cried out in pleasure. “Good or bad?”, he asked. “So good”, I panted. He chuckled behind me; and began thrusting again; putting more force into his movements. “Baby”, he gasped. “You…”. He couldn’t finish the sentence; but continued thrusting.

I was grabbing on to the pillow, and lifting my head – making my back arch for him. “Goddamn”, he moaned. He grasped my butt-cheek again, before giving it a light slap. “More”, I mewled. He laughed, and spanked me harder.

I tightened the muscles in my core; drawing a gasp and a hiss from Jax. “Do it again”, he moaned. I repeated the move. “Shit, babe”, he gasped; and pushed hard into me.

His hand moved from my ass to my front; finding my clit, and stroking it to the rhythm of his thrusts. Soon I didn’t need to clench my muscles on purpose; as he was drawing me nearer to my undoing. I cried out as I came for a second time; clenching hard around Jax’s cock – which made him thrust in to me with relentless want. He was moving towards his own high.

“Shit, Cat. You’re gonna make me…”. He cried out; and came inside me.

I was still clenching around him as he gently pulled himself out, and laid down next to me; sweaty, and with a grin on his face. “Wow”, he panted; and pulled me towards him; kissing my forehead. My body was trembling from the pleasure I’d just felt. “Yeah”, I breathed; trying to control my breath.

Looking down his naked body, his eyes went wide. “Crap. I didn’t ask…”. “The pill”, I said. “And I’m clean”. I smiled. “Me too”, he smirked.

He kissed my lips, and wrapped his arms around me, holding me close. I tried to pull away. “I want to get cleaned up”, I muttered, smiling crookedly. “Let me get it”, he said, and stepped out of the bed, walking naked into the bathroom. “Gotta piss anyway”. “Prince Charming”, I chuckled. He laughed at me, over his shoulder; and closed the door to the bathroom behind him.

I laid on the bed; still panting – when my phone rang in my jeans pocket on the floor. I crawled across the bed to get it. There was no caller id. “Hello?”, I said. “Hi, kitty”, a voice I recognized breathed. My whole body froze. “You can’t call me. My number is unregistered”, I said with bated breath. “Yes, it was hard to track down you down”, the voice said. “But, you know – my job gives me a few perks”. “I don’t want to talk to you…”, I said. “Catherine, listen… I know we’ve had our differences. But let’s move beyond that, ok? Did you get the flowers I sent your school? I sent some to the motel as well, just in case. Congrats on the new job!...”.

I hung up. I heard Jax flush the toilet, and wash his hands. He stepped back into the room with a wet washcloth for me. Seeing my expression, his eyes went dark. “What’s wrong?”, he demanded. I looked at the phone in my hand. “He…”, I began. I started breathing heavily. Jax took the phone from me, looking up the call list. His lips drew back in a snarl. “Was it him?”. I nodded, on the verge of tears.

Jacksons expression softened when he looked at me. He climbed onto the bed; and wrapped his arms around me – holding me impossibly close. “Hey, hey… it’s gonna be ok. He can’t get you here”. “H-he sent flowers to my job”, I stammered. “He knows where I am”. Jax kissed the top of my head. “No more running, baby”, he said. “You’re with me now. You’re safe”.

He gently cleaned me off; and tucked me in. “Will you stay here?”, I said. He smiled warmly. “I’m not going anywhere”, he said quietly; and got under the covers with me – wrapping his body around mine.

After a few minutes of heavy breathing; and Jax running his fingers through my hair – my body relaxed. “You should take a personal day tomorrow”, he said; his baby blues looking deeply into my eyes. “I can’t”, I said. “I just started… I have to go on like everything is normal. It’s the only way I’ll…”. I shook my head; unable to finish my sentence. Jackson sighed; and chewed his lip. “I’ll drive you to work tomorrow”, he said. “I need to stop by my house first; see the kid”. “I don’t have to be at work until 10”, I said. “Good”, he smiled. “Gives me a little more time with you”.

He kissed me softly, and stroked my jaw. I ran a finger over the bruise on his cheekbone. “I like you, Jackson”, I whispered. “I like you too”, he smiled; and put his forehead to mine. “Get some sleep, doll. I’ll be here in the morning”.

I slept better than I had in a long time, that night.

---

#jax teller #jax teller fic #jax teller x oc #jackson teller #jackson teller fic #sons of anarchy fic #sons of anarchy

59 notes · View notes

komahinasecretexchange · 4 years ago

Text

Title: Sunshower

Author: @credens-justitiam

For: @redakara

Pairings/Characters: Hajime Hinata/Nagito Komaeda, Hajime Hinata, Nagito Komaeda, Kazuichi Souda

Rating/Warnings: General, no warnings apply

Prompt: Fantasy/rpg au

Author’s notes: none!

You can also read it directly on Ao3

The cobblestone streets that surrounded the potion shop were paved with smooth gray stones that grew warm with the light of the morning sun. Small gusts of wind pulled at Nagito’s hair and whipped it around this way and that. He tightened his grip on the crates of ingredients he held in his arms, not wanting to drop them.

I should’ve brought the cart with me, he thought to himself as the fabric covering of the ingredients flapped in the wind, which sometimes obscured his vision. Though it was a rickety old thing, it would have at least freed one of his hands and left his sight clear. Regardless, his shop was just around the corner, so all he had to do was take a few more steps without falling—

“Hey!”

Crash!

One moment Nagito was rounding the corner on both feet, the next he was on his rear on the hard cobblestone. His hands stung from where the wooden crates scraped against them. He was about to worry whether he had splinters when he realized the precious ingredients he was carrying were no longer in his hands.

Precious, and highly volatile ingredients that should be kept separate and not spilled all over the streets. Nagito watched in horror as a greenish liquid trickled towards some bright yellow powder. He extended a hand towards it helplessly. “No—!”

Instantly the mixture exploded in a multicolor flash of light and heat. Nagito barely shielded his face in time as the blast singed the tips of his hair. He blinked away the spots in his vision and surveyed the last remaining wisps of white smoke with a small expression of defeat. He was supposed to use those ingredients (separately) for today’s orders…

But he didn’t have the time to lament over the waste when a gruff voice asked, “woah, are you okay?”

Nagito looked up to see a hand extended in front of him. Without thinking, he took it, biting back a hiss as he stood; a stinging pain came the cuts on his hands and a throbbing pain from his backside. When he was pulled to his feet, the sight of sharp-looking hazel eyes and even sharper looking brown hair stilled his tongue.

The features in question belonged to a young man around his age and of similar height, though judging from the strong grip exuded by his hands, Nagito was inclined to think he was decently stronger than himself. He had a white shirt, light brown pants, and a large bag slung around his shoulder. Though he dressed on the plainer side, Nagito found his disposition to be rather charming.

The stranger spoke again. “Hey, I asked you a question. Are you okay? That looked like it hurt.”

“Oh, I, um—” Nagito stammered, realizing he was staring for much longer than appropriate. Out of all the inopportune moments to be tongue-tied, he had to do so in front of this good-looking stranger. He laughed his nervousness off (why was he nervous all the sudden?) with a wave of his hand.

“I’m right as rain, honestly, no need to worry about me! I’m more concerned about the stuff I dropped.”

“Right, sorry about that.” The stranger rubbed the back of his neck. “Didn’t mean to run into you.”

Nagito pressed his lips into a smile. “Like I said, no worries. I’m just going to, um, gather this stuff up now.”

He knelt on shaky legs—another product of his sudden, strange nervousness— gingerly surveying what was spilled. To his surprise, the stranger lowered himself to the ground as well.

“It’s the least I can do,” the stranger cut in, right as Nagito opened his mouth to protest. Had it been anyone else, Nagito still would’ve protested, but the stranger just had this steady presence that dried whatever words he had in his throat.

Thus the two of them gathered up the ingredients in silence. Nagito ached to say something more, but for some reason his mouth wouldn’t cooperate with him. But that should’ve been fine, right? Because cleaning things up wasn’t a task that required conversation. The stranger would help him for a few more minutes then be on his merry way. Still, a voice whispered in the back of his brain telling him to make conversation, growing more urgent as the silence stretched between them more and more.

When Nagito couldn’t bear it anymore, he went, “so—”

“Say, I was—” the stranger began at the same time. “What?”

“Huh?” Nagito blinked. “Oh, sorry, you—you go first.”

“I was wondering what these ingredients were. They looked kind of dangerous,” the stranger remarked. “Since they exploded and everything.”

“Dangerous?” Nagito let out a surprised chuckle. “Oh, well, I see why you’d think that way. But separately they’re useful in brewing potions.”

“Brewing potions?” the stranger echoed. “Then, are you Komaeda Nagito? The witch at the end of Hemlock Way?”

Nagito had no idea he had such a title, but nonetheless he nodded. “That’d be me,” he said. “Were you looking for my shop?”

The stranger nodded. He patted a large messenger bag against his side. “Yeah. I’m a courier, actually. I’m here to pick up and drop off some commissions for you.”

“Ah, what a coincidence.” Nagito laughed a bit. “Our paths were destined to cross, but then something like this happened so we met just a few minutes before we were fated to.”

The courier’s mouth quirked up in a rather wry way. “Yeah…? I’m not a huge believer in fate but I guess that’s one way to look at it.”

Something about the courier’s reply made Nagito wonder if he said something weird, but he pushed worry aside for the time being. Now that he gathered all his ingredients and had a courier standing in front of him with commissions in hand, he had to get down to business. He dusted himself off, braced himself and picked up the crates. He tilted his head towards the stairs that led to the potion shop.

“My shop’s just up these stairs. Follow me.”

As Nagito was taking his first step, the courier stopped him. “Uh, are you sure you want to go up the stairs holding all those crates? I could carry some of that.”

“I wouldn’t want to trouble you. You helped me gather up my mess, and you’re already carrying that messenger bag of yours,” Nagito started, but suddenly the weight in his arms became a lot lighter. “Wait, what are you—”

Despite Nagito’s protests, the courier took several crates into his arms (more than half of the items, Nagito realized). “It’s the least I can do. It’d be too troublesome if you dropped these again, right?”

Nagito looked at him strangely. A bunch of different feelings swirled around in him, like reactants mixed together in a cauldron: confusion featured the most prominently, followed by gratitude and curiosity. Who was this courier, and why was he helping Nagito so much? He couldn’t remember the last time a stranger interacted with him this extensively.

“‘It’s the least I can do…’ You said that already,” he murmured absently.

The courier turned and stopped just a few steps away from the shop. “What?”

Nagito grew embarrassed; he let his thoughts spill out into the open again. He stammered out, “a-ah, nothing, just talking to myself.” Quickly, in order to divert attention away from his ramblings, he shoved a hand into his apron pocket. “We’re here, let me get my keys.”

Fishing his keys out, he stepped around the courier and stuck the right key into the lock. The bell above the door jingled cheerfully as the courier held it open with his body. “After you.”

The courier gave him a gruff “thanks” and went inside. He set the crates down upon the counter next to the potted plants, then unfastened his messenger bag. He pulled out several leaves of paper and passed them across the counter. “So, here are the new commissions I was talking about.”

“Okay,” Nagito said.

“As for the previous orders, do you have ready the bottle of sleeping elixir, the eau du ciel, and a nightshade draught?”

Nagito nodded eagerly. He stooped beneath the counter and pulled out three separate bottles wrapped in paper, tied off and tagged with the insignia of his shop. “Yes, right here.”

“Alright, I’ll be taking these then.” The courier stowed them away in his bag, then gave Nagito a polite nod. “Have a good day.”

For some reason, seeing the courier’s broad back turn and leave set Nagito’s nerves alight. As he turned and began to exit, Nagito called out to the courier. “Ah, wait a second!”

The courier turned and gave him a look, one foot already outside the door. “What? I’m in a hurry,” he said, with a note of mild irritation in his voice.

Nagito swallowed; when the courier looked at him like that, he felt he could see into his very soul. But that was ridiculous, no kind of magic existed for that to happen. It was just as ridiculous as the feelings that suddenly welled up within him and made him loathe the idea of seeing the courier leave his shop.

Nagito asked, “will I be seeing you again?”

“…Yes?” came the courier’s reply. “I have to give you payment for your commissions and pick up the new orders.”

Nagito laughed airily, feeling embarrassed. That was a stupid question. Of course the courier would be here again to do his job. Still, he tried to save face, even though there was no doubt in his mind that the courier saw him as a fool now.

“Oh, right. I was just wondering because I’ve never seen you do the deliveries before. You wouldn’t happen to know Souda-kun, would you?”

Souda was the name of the courier who had been doing deliveries in the area and often came to Nagito’s shop to do business there. Nagito considered him a friend, though they never went past being acquaintances outside of work.

At the mention of Souda’s name, the courier barked out a single dry laugh. “Yeah, that’s my coworker. He’s focusing on completing his apprenticeship now, so I’m stepping in for him.”

“Ah, yes, he did mention that. He always did have a talent for artillery. An admirable field, indeed.” Nagito hummed, tapping his fingers against the counter. “Well, if you see him, say hello to him for me.”

“Sure.” A beat of silence passed, with the courier’s foot still hanging out the door. Suddenly it was as if the world slowed to a halt, with Nagito wanting the conversation to continue but knowing that he would just be wasting the courier’s time if he tried. The look on the courier’s face told him as such. He was lingering in the door, as if waiting to be dismissed, with an odd expression.

A while passed, with Nagito still saying nothing. He wasn’t the most savvy of people, but even Nagito knew that this situation was the awkwardest encounter he ever had in his shop. Maybe this was fate’s way of punishing him for meeting the courier before he was supposed to.

Finally the courier went, “I’m going now.”

Then he turned and did just that. Nagito peered through the curtains of his shop’s window and watched the courier’s retreating form as he made his way down the cobblestone streets. Just as Nagito was about to return to his business, the courier turned around and looked at him, making full eye contact as he did so. Even from a distance Nagito could feel his piercing stare.

“Oh!” he said to no one (he was alone in his shop, after all). Flustered at having been caught, Nagito quickly drew the curtains closed. But then he felt the slightest bit guilty for closing the curtains on the courier—wasn’t that rude, shutting him out like that after Nagito stared so shamelessly after him? Nagito parted the curtains once more to look out onto the street.

He peered curiously outward, searching for the courier again. In the split second that he drew the curtains closed, however, the courier had vanished. And that was a given, of course; he said he had other business to attend to. How presumptuous of Nagito to assume he’d dawdle more than necessary.

Nagito laughed airily to himself. He had been exceptionally rude today: bumping into him, making him carry his ingredients, and keeping him with pointless conversation for longer than was proper. To top it all off—

“I didn’t even ask for his name.”

<br>

The next time Nagito met the courier, Nagito was leaving the shop to go to Evershift Forest to forage for more ingredients (he had to replenish some of the stuff he dropped so clumsily the other day, after all). The courier was coming up the steps just as Nagito was about to lock up his shop.

Nagito waved. “Good morning! Are you here to pick up the new orders?”

The courier nodded. He was dressed in the same clothes as last time. “Yeah, and to bring you your payment. But it looks like you’re heading out right now?”

Nagito chuckled. “I realized I ran out of some ingredients so I need to go forage for some more. I’d go to the marketplace but it’s closed today, so I’m heading to the forest.”

Then, because apparently he hadn’t learned his lesson last time, his mouth moved before he could think. “Why don’t you come along with me? It won’t take long.”

“What? Go with you?” the courier asked. “Can’t I just take the finished orders and go?”

Nagito chuckled again, more sheepishly this time. “Ah, unfortunately the orders aren’t finished. They still need their finishing touches before they’re ready, and I ran out of those ingredients earlier than I thought I would.”

“Are you talking about when I ran into you?” the courier asked, hitting the nail right on the head.

Well, it was because of that, but it was still Nagito’s fault for walking in such a busy place with his vision half-obscured. So Nagito just laughed it off, because that’s what he always did. “Ah, don’t worry about that.”

Perhaps that was the wrong answer, because the courier’s brows furrowed in intense thought. Sensing exasperation from him, Nagito quickly went, “but I promise it won’t take long, just twenty minutes at the most. Evershift is a tricky place, but I’m pretty good at finding what I need there. So can I ask you to stay here while I go?”

The courier snorted. “Before you were asking if I wanted to come with you. Now you want me to stay here and wait. Which is it?”

“Oh, well,” Nagito floundered. Even though Nagito was sure he was frustrated at having to wait, the courier’s tone was level and the look in his eyes was not unkind. If anything, it was understanding. And that’s what Nagito didn’t understand. Despite everything that had happened, despite his clumsiness and his delay, the courier was being remarkably patient with him. Nagito sincerely hoped that he wasn’t making the courier lose business.

“How about you come with me? You have to wait for me to finish anyways, and the forest is a prettier place to wait at than the shop.”

Amazingly, the courier nodded. “Sure. But the shop itself doesn’t look bad.”

Nagito followed the courier’s line of sight towards the planter underneath the windowsill, the same window that Nagito had unceremoniously drawn the curtains closed on several days ago. Small green plants had sprouted there, and though they were growing healthily from being treated with Nagito’s homebrewed fertilizer, they still weren’t ready to be harvested for about another month.

“Your plants are pretty nice. Do you take care of them yourself?”

“Ah, thank you. Yes, those are some herbs I planted a week ago,” Nagito replied, flattered. Few people had ever said anything so nice about his shop. He took this as a sign that the courier wanted to stay in the shop.

“If you’re interested in looking around my shop more, I’d be happy to leave you a key. Though I’ll ask that you don’t touch anything; some of the stuff can be very dangerous if handled incorrectly. You saw what happened a few days ago.”

Nagito didn’t mean it that way, but it sounded like he was insinuating that the courier would mess things up in his shop if left unattended. Having realized what he was implying, Nagito raised an apologetic hand and began to backtrack.

“Not that I think you’d be as clumsy as I am and drop everything. I’m just saying this as a precaution.”

The courier looked at him strangely, head tilted to the side and lips parted like he was struggling to find the right words to scold him with. Nagito was getting rather accustomed to the look; he must have said something wrong again. It was different from how Souda treated him—Souda was usually much faster to call him out on his weirdness. Not that Nagito ever thought Souda was wrong for doing so, but he appreciated that this courier was much more courteous to Nagito than probably he deserved.

He said, “you’d leave me a key? You’re saying you’re taking a precaution, but I don’t know how giving a stranger a key is cautious.”

“I suppose it isn’t, though you seem like a trustworthy person,” Nagito said, smiling lightly. “But you don’t want to waste your time with someone like me, then I’d be happy to let you stay here.”

The courier shook his head. “No thanks, I already agreed to go with you.”

Then, he gestured towards the forest with a pointed look. Despite being the one accepting Nagito’s invitation to follow him into the forest, the courier began walking down the stairs first.

“Come on, weren’t you the one who said it wouldn’t take long?

Nagito nodded and quickly followed after him. “Ah, right.”

<hr>

The cobblestone road ended just a few paces from Nagito’s shop. As they walked onto the dirt path that led into Evershift Forest, the courier spoke. “What are you looking for?”

“I have a few things in mind that I need, like aurum leaves, though I’ll pick up anything we come across if it seems useful,” Nagito answered.

Doubt filled the courier’s features. “You… sound like you’re not sure of what you’re getting.”

“Well, I can’t be. Haven’t you been to Evershift Forest before? It’s one this area’s top places to visit, along with the marketplace.”

When the courier shook his head, Nagito began to explain.

“Evershift Forest earned its namesake for being an ever-shifting place. At random intervals the inner parts of the forest would shimmer like a mirage. People who explored between the gaps of the trees might find themselves in the middle of a lake or near the maws of a beast if they happened to walk into a section that changed in this way. So there’s no telling what we’ll find while we’re here.”

The forest’s fluid nature made it simultaneously a good source to find ingredients as well as an unreliable one, as one could find an abundance of their needed ingredient one time but not find it again for hours or even weeks. However unpredictable the forest was, the rare flora and fauna that could be found within the forest’s confines drew magic users and thrillseekers alike. Nagito was solidly in the former camp, as he didn’t favor having to run away from the forest creatures.

“There’s supposed to be a pattern we can follow in order to find the exit. I’m usually pretty good at finding them, but sometimes you have to wander for a few hours in order to get out.”

The courier looked pale from Nagito’s explanation. “Hours? So you’re just relying on luck to find what you need?”

“More or less,” Nagito admitted. “It might sound tedious, but it’s a remarkable opportunity for me to get potent ingredients I wouldn’t think to look for otherwise.”

His answer visibly frustrated the courier. “What happened to just needing twenty minutes? Forget it, I’m gonna head back and do some other orders first while you figure this out.”

He turned around to where they came and squawked. Nagito looked over his shoulder to see that the forest’s path had already changed; no longer could he see the entrance to the forest. Though he felt bad for laughing at the courier’s shock, he couldn’t help a few breathy giggles from leaving his mouth.

“Sorry for not telling you this earlier, I thought you already knew. Are you not from this area?”

The courier shook his head. “No, that’s why I wasn’t assigned to work here before. I never knew a place like this existed.”

“Oh, well now you do!” Nagito said cheerily. “But like I said before, I’m pretty good at navigating through here. I meant it when I said we shouldn’t be here for longer than twenty minutes.”

“Okay…” The courier looked hardly convinced. “Well, whether you’re right or not, I guess we should stick together for the time being.”

Nagito felt worry prickle up his spine. Perhaps inviting the courier here was the wrong move; he must’ve made a bad impression on him if he thought Nagito would go off without him. “Of course, I’d never abandon you here.”

After he said that, they walked in silence for a bit. Normally Nagito was fine with not talking for a bit, but something about the courier made him run his mouth. Besides, while they were here, there were a few things Nagito could get off his chest.

So he started conversationally, “by the way, I never got your name.”

“Mine? I’m Hinata Hajime.” He walked in tandem with Nagito, matching his stride. “I’m late in saying this, but uh, nice meeting you. Hope we can work well together, once we get out of here.”

“Hinata-kun.” The way his name felt in his mouth was almost familiar, though it’s not as if they met before. “Well, you know my name already, but it’s only proper that I introduce myself too. I’m Komaeda Nagito. It’s been a pleasure being with you.”

“Yeah.” Hinata nodded. To Nagito’s delight, he continued the conversation further. “What got you into potion making? The people I’ve spoken to around here refer to you as the witch at the end of Hemlock Way, so it sounds like you’re pretty good at it.”

“That’s a bit embarrassing. I didn’t even know people called me that.” Nagito gave a small laugh. “My innate magic isn’t anything special, but I specialized in potion-making in school. It was the one thing I was good at, and after my parents died, I decided to continue it and opened my own shop with my inheritance.”

As Nagito recounted his experiences, Hinata grew quiet. “Oh. Damn. Sorry to make you talk about your parents. I know that my words right now don’t really mean anything, but…”

“Don’t be sorry,” Nagito reassured him. “In fact, I’m glad you cared enough to ask, Hinata-kun.”

Another funny look flitted across Hinata’s face, but before Nagito could comment upon it, the forest around them shimmered. Not wanting to be separated by the changes, Nagito grabbed onto Hinata’s shoulder.

“Careful, pay attention to our surroundings,” he warned. But just as he gave Hinata that warning, Nagito couldn’t help but feel distracted by the way Hinata’s shoulder filled his hand. His shoulder was broad and felt sturdy in his grip. It was rather unexpected; perhaps Hinata was the type of person to look slimmer when dressed. He was also warm despite being in the shade and only wearing short sleeves. By contrast, Nagito had an apron layered over his long-sleeved shirt, yet he was always cold.

As quickly as the forest began to shift, it stopped, and Nagito found them standing in a bright patch of sunlight. Nagito blinked at the sudden influx of light, temporarily blinded. For a few moments, the only thing he could perceive was the sound of birdsong—that’s how Nagito knew the forest had changed for sure, as he didn’t hear any birds before. When his eyes finally adjusted, he took stock of their surroundings.

Above them, the trees’ branches parted in a small circle, where the morning sunlight streamed onto them from above. A ring of bushes surrounded them, bearing all sorts of fruits. Small butterflies of every color flitted from flower to flower. Some of the flowers towered over them, bright yellow and reaching towards the sky. From the corner of his eye, Nagito spotted the source of the birdsong: a few birds with rainbow wings and glimmering eyes were perched in the branches, singing to each other.

As beautiful as everything was, Nagito figured he should probably check to see if Hinata was holding up okay from the sudden changes. Nagito knew from experience that Evershift Forest was a disorienting place to be in, especially the first few times it shifted. So Nagito turned his head and looked.

But when he did, he felt his breath catch in his throat. The way the light poured onto Hinata was indescribable: the sunlight turned his normally brown hair into golden spires, while his hazel eyes glowed almost supernaturally. The shadows the light made on his jawline stood out starkly from the collar of his white shirt. His skin shone in the light. Idly, Nagito wondered if Hinata often spent time in the sun, considering that he was tanner than himself.

Nagito also wondered if he’d get to see Hinata in the sun like this more often. Because Hinata was, in a word, beautiful. The likes of which Nagito has never seen before.

As if picking up on Nagito’s thoughts, Hinata turned and fixed him with another weird look, though he seemed more self-conscious than critical. “What are you looking at?”

Feeling heat rising to his face that wasn’t caused by the sun’s warmth, Nagito chuckled nervously. “Ahaha, pardon my staring. I just haven’t seen the forest like this before, that’s all.”

That was partially true; the forest usually never looked the same twice. The untrue part came from the fact that moments ago, Nagito was staring unabashedly at Hinata the way a child did at a candy store. Not that Nagito considered Hinata to be shallow eye candy, goodness no; if anything, Hinata was rather plain-looking, yet Nagito felt a strange kinship with him that made him extend an invitation to go into the forest and ask for his name in the first place.

It wasn’t until Hinata stepped away from him awkwardly did Nagito realize he had been holding onto his shoulder still. Hinata cleared his throat and spoke in a bit of a gruff voice.

“So, can you find what you need here? Or do we have to wait for the forest to change again?”

Nagito snapped to attention. “Oh! Yes, this place will do.”

He walked over and bent next to the fruit bushes, careful not to disturb the butterflies as he pushed his way in. “Let’s see…”

Hinata’s voice rang out behind him. He walked over to him, hands outstretched as if he was expecting something to jump out. “Oi, is it really okay for you to just stick your hand in? What if something bites you?”

“Well, I can’t deny that possibility.” Nagito rummaged further until he pulled out what he was looking for: crisp golden leaves that shimmered metallically in the light. “But I know we’re in the right place. And I have you to thank for it, actually.”

Hinata sounded puzzled. “Me? Why? I didn’t do anything.”

“Maybe not directly.” Nagito stowed away the aurum leaves in his apron pocket. “But just by you being with me, you change things. How do I describe it? I mentioned that my innate magic isn’t anything special, but I think it has to do a lot with luck.”

“You think? Luck?” Hinata shook his head. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Nagito stood and stretched out his back. “Yes, luck. It’s an odd magic, to the point where I don’t really consider it magic at all.”

“That’s because it isn’t?” Hinata’s voice was incredulous.

“I know, it sounds far fetched.” Nagito’s laugh rattled in his throat. “I feel the same way about it as you do, Hinata-kun. But I swear I’m telling the truth. I guess you could say that I have different karma compared to other people.”

“You could say that about anyone,” Hinata protested. “I still don’t see how I had any part in this.”

Nagito looked at Hinata strangely. “Really? What else could have led me to you?” “The fact that I bumped into you? Or that people often commission you and that it’s my job as a courier to deliver them to you?”

“Even before that. When Souda-kun took on his apprenticeship, what made your boss reassign you to my area?”

Hinata just stared. “Komaeda, I don’t understand where you’re going with this. It just sounds like you’re talking about probability or variables, not luck.”

Nagito’s heart briefly sped up. “Well, what if I told you I believe that I felt that you’re similar to me? Your presence alone is enough to change what happens around you. I wasn’t expecting to find such a large quantity of aurum leaves so soon, yet here I am.”

From the way Hinata stood with his arms crossed, it was clear he wasn’t buying any of it. “Well, if you and I are both so lucky, then this randomly-changing forest should change right now and show us the exit.”

In the moments following their conversation, nothing changed. Nagito felt a bit of guilt seep into him. He really did it now—he talked too much and put too many of his weird thoughts out into the open, including the expectation that they’d be able to leave so quickly. He really should’ve let Hinata stay behind. Even though he was fortunate enough to find all those aurum leaves so quickly thanks to Hinata, it looked like their lucky streak was running out.

Then all of the sudden their surroundings rippled. Nagito could hear Hinata curse loudly beside him as the sunlight and butterflies disappeared, replaced by a path identical to the one they entered the forest on.

“No fucking way,” Hinata said. He marched out of the forest, leaving Nagito to trail behind him.

“Hinata-kun?”

“This is definitely a coincidence,” Hinata muttered to himself, “there’s no way I could’ve caused this.”

The pace at which he walked outside the forest was a clear indication of his agitation, something that puzzled and worried Nagito a fair bit. Nagito walked faster to match him.

“I think you should have some more faith in yourself.” Nagito began mildly, feeling that his remark might not be received well. “But whether you did or not, I felt better when you accompanied me. It’s been a while since I’ve had a casual outing like this.”

Finally Hinata’s long strides shortened into a more relaxed gait. “Has it?”

Nagito said, “yes. I’m usually too occupied with orders to go out much, so this was a nice change of scenery. Even if it was just for work.”

For a short few moments, Hinata didn’t speak any further. Then he went, “I’m… glad it was good for you. The scenery was pretty nice, though I don’t know what I’d do if things got dangerous.”

Nagito thought about the various magical creatures, venomous plants, and hazardous terrain he encountered in the past. He decided not to elaborate upon those experiences, for Hinata’s sake. After all, Hinata must be worn out from their little excursion, if his earlier cursing was anything to go by.

“I’m glad nothing bad happened,” Nagito said, and left things at that.

Together they walked in silence back to his shop. Maybe something changed in him after he looked at Hinata under the sun in the forest, but as they walked, Nagito felt completely at ease around him. Before, Nagito wasn’t sure what it was about Hinata that made him want to fill the silence between them with idle chatter. Now, Nagito was perfectly content with just matching his stride to Hinata’s in silence. He suspected it was the silence that close friends had, a comfortable one in which both parties knew what the other was thinking without the need to exchange words.

But that was unrealistic, wasn’t it? They were still strangers to each other, and Nagito wasn’t arrogant enough to pretend he knew Hinata’s innermost thoughts and feelings. Yet Nagito felt they weren’t complete strangers anymore either. He never went out to get ingredients with another person before, and he suspected that Hinata had never seen magic work in the way it did in the forest. In a way, their shared experience brought them closer together, even if just by a little bit.

There was also the way Nagito’s chest tightened when he thought about the distance that was still between them. The desire to get closer to another person was, in itself, an unusual experience; he never felt this towards others, not even Souda, whom he saw on a regular basis. In just a few conversations (and one preternatural experience), Hinata had become something like a friend.

Of course, it wasn’t as if Nagito would voice these thoughts aloud. But he did walk with a slight spring in his step as they walked into the front door of the shop, bell jingling as it opened.

When they went in, Nagito parted the curtain that separated the front of his shop from the back. He turned to Hinata and said, “wait there a moment, please. I just need to add these leaves and then they’ll be done.”

He went to his work bench and pulled out several bottles, all filled with a differently colored liquid within. From his apron pocket he removed the aurum leaves that he collected and added small flakes to each. The effect of adding them was instant; as soon as they touched each liquid, they fizzled and dissolved. The golden luster present in the leaves melted and spread throughout all the potions, making them scatter the light in shimmery rays.

Satisfied with the result, he brought them back into the storefront. There he began to wrap each of them in paper, humming while he worked. His fingers moved deftly, tying them off with string and marking them with his insignia.

“You seem cheery,” Hinata observed.

“Do I?” Nagito asked distractedly, still preoccupied with his work.

Hinata had leaned over the counter, drumming his fingers against the wood. “Yeah. You’re really calm too, considering what happened. It’s almost weird.”

Being called weird was nothing new for Nagito, but hearing that from Hinata somehow felt different. Others meant it in a defensive or dismissive way, but not Hinata.

“Almost?” Nagito echoed.

“Well,” Hinata began, looking like he was carefully choosing his words. But he seemed to think better of it and shook his head. “Nevermind. Point is, you’re an interesting figure. I’ve never met someone like you before.”

“I could say the same for you,” Nagito said. He passed over the wrapped bottles to Hinata. “Though you must be around boring people very often if you mean what you say.”

Hinata stowed them away in his bag with a dry few laughs. “No, it’s the opposite actually. I meet a lot of, uh, colorful people in my work. Dealing with them all while trying to get my job done can get pretty stressful.”

“Is that so?” Nagito wondered if Hinata would ever venture the stories of colorful clients to him.

“Yeah. You’re a lot more relaxed in comparison.” Hinata brought out a bag of coins and some more papers and slid it over the counter. “Alright, that should do it. I’ll be back in a few days for the new orders.”

Nagito smiled. “I look forward to it. I’ll be waiting right here for you.”

“Yeah…”

Maybe Nagito’s tone was too eager because Hinata gave him another one of his weird looks. Though this time he also had a half-smile that gave Nagito a tingling feeling in his chest the same way a catalyst added to a potion made it fizzle. Nagito pretended to fiddle with the new commission sheets as he watched Hinata leave again.

But in the middle of exiting through the door, Hinata turned and spoke. “It feels weird to say this, but I kind of enjoyed walking with you today.”

Hearing that, Nagito felt his heart rate spike a bit. A touch too eagerly he replied, “I enjoyed walking with you too! Though the forest was very beautiful, it would’ve been better if the marketplace was open today. It’s much less volatile than Evershift. And no venomous snakes, too.”

Nagito hadn’t intended to be funny, but Hinata let out a surprised laugh, as if he wasn’t expecting that answer. “That’s definitely a plus.”

And then he was gone, leaving Nagito standing and staring like an idiot at the door. The bell tinkled as the door shut, and then there was silence.

For some reason, Nagito had the sudden urge to rush out the door himself. And what would he do if he did? Stare at Hinata’s back as he left? Why would he need to do that? The more he thought about those questions, the more they multiplied and made his head spin. They mingled with the echoes of your plants are pretty nice, you’re an interesting figure, and I kind of enjoyed walking with you in his head, slowly eating at him. Like a leech slowly draining his blood, they worked at Nagito’s brain until he felt only his skull would remain.

Never in his life had Nagito ever felt this irrationally towards another person. Something must have changed in Nagito during their time together in the forest. What was it?

His mind conjured several images against his will. He saw the unremarkable face of a stranger, and felt the warm grasp of a hand extended in aid. He saw the weird glances thrown his way and heard the short, dry laughter of a skeptic. He saw shoulders sunlit and firm underneath his touch. He saw brown hair bathing in the sun’s rays, hazel eyes that shone like leaves steeped in gold.

There was a deep thudding in Nagito’s chest that made him feel out of breath. He clutched a shaky hand to it, feeling his heart beating wildly, pumping hot blood into his face until he felt flushed. When his legs began to feel weak, Nagito leaned back against the shelf, careful not to disturb the potion display there.

“No way,” he breathed, though there was nobody in the world who believed in his own words less than himself.

<br>

The next time Nagito saw Hinata after he realized he had a massive crush on him, Hinata looked noticeably worn out.

“Hinata-kun?” Nagito asked, concerned.

Speaking in a low and scratchy voice, he announced, “I’m here to pick up the new orders.”

The way he hefted his bag over his shoulder made it seem like it was full of heavy stones. Nagito frowned.

“They’re ready, but you look rather unwell, Hinata-kun. Should you even be working right now?”

“I mean, I know I look like shit.” Hinata coughed a dry laugh. “But nobody else can work but me. I’m not even that sick.”

As he said that, he sneezed loudly once, twice, thrice. He ended his sneezing fit with a few sniffles.

Nagito said, “I admire your ability to work even when you’re under the weather, but I really do think you’re pushing yourself too hard.”

Hinata was quiet for a moment, then shook his head. “Well, whether I’m pushing myself too hard or not, I’m still on the clock. Going home now will just mean that the time I spent getting here will just be a waste. So, are the orders ready or not?”

Nagito pursed his lips but otherwise said nothing. He merely retreated into the back of the shop for a second, retrieved the orders as well as an extra flask of silvery liquid, and passed things over to Hinata.

Hinata checked his list and rattled off the potion names under his breath. “Fire flower essence, Lovers’ Brew, draught of dream induction, and—” he paused, noticing the extra flask on the counter. It sat there innocently, contents still swirling a bit from when Nagito handled them.

“This wasn’t on the list,” Hinata said.

“It wasn’t,” Nagito agreed, “because it’s for you.”

Hinata scrutinized the bottle, eyebrows drawn low over his tired eyes. “Why me? What is it?”

“It’s a healing potion.” Nagito pushed it closer to Hinata. “Drink it, and you’ll start feeling better immediately.”

As expected, Hinata began to protest. He backed away and shook his head adamantly. “I didn’t bring any money. Shouldn’t you save this for one of your paying customers? Instead of just one sick guy you just met?”

“It’s just one potion from a dime a dozen witch,” Nagito insisted. “Besides, you’re not just some guy, Hinata-kun. You’re more than that to me.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Nagito felt heat crawl up into his face. He hadn’t meant to say it so blithely, but now all he could was live with it. At least he didn’t let slip some of his more embarrassing feelings of admiration.

He hastily tried to gloss over his faux pas. “Come on, don’t be modest.”

As if Hinata didn’t hear him, he asked, “am I really?”

There was no getting out of answering. Hinata was just that sort of thorough person who left no stone unturned. Nagito averted his gaze for a second, unable to meet those piercing eyes of his. “Y-Yes.”

A beat of silence passed. Hinata’s expression was mostly unreadable, hand resting near his chin as if he was deep in thought. Nagito had the feeling he was being studied, and that Hinata was on the edge of a breakthrough but needed just the one last piece of evidence to complete his puzzle. Nagito, however, was very determined to not elaborate, as that would be bad for his heart and his sanity.

So more insistently, Nagito went, “so if you’ll kindly drink it…”

“Okay, okay, I get it.”

Finally, Hinata accepted the flask, uncorked it, and lifted it to his mouth. In a few gulps the potion went down his throat. His lips parted from the flask with a small pop. Nagito tried not to stare at the motion and failed miserably.

“So, how was it?” Nagito asked around the lump in his throat.

Hinata wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve. He seemed to breathe more clearly than before. “Tasted alright. I think I am feeling a bit better now, thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Nagito hoped he didn’t sound too dreamy. “I can take the bottle back.”

As Nagito reached over the counter, Hinata held onto the bottle, another one of his half-smiles spreading across his face. “You know, you can be surprisingly pushy sometimes.”

Nagito blinked, retracting his hand. “Huh?”

“It’s not an insult,” Hinata said quickly, “just something I noticed. I pegged you as a mild kind of guy, but just now, you were really insistent that I drink this. I didn’t expect that from you.”

Hinata gestured with the bottle in his hand, making a motion to toss it. He gave Nagito a meaningful gaze, not breaking eye contact even as Nagito raised his hands to receive it. When he did throw the bottle, it sailed through the air and landed in Nagito’s arms with ease.

It was such a simple gesture, and Nagito hoped he wasn’t reading into things too deeply and looking for things that weren’t there, but he felt what passed between them was an exchange resembling friendship.

Cautiously Nagito looked back up and gave a smile of his own. “Think of it as my way of saying thanks.”

Now it was Hinata’s turn to look bemused. “For what?” he asked.

“For coming with me the other day,” Nagito said. “I already said this, but I really enjoyed our outing.”

Hinata blew a puff of air from his nose that ended awkwardly with a few coughs into the crook of his elbow. Nagito interpreted that as a sign of amusement. “I’d say some parts were too weird for my liking, but… well, I liked a lot of it too.”

After he said that, Hinata swept the rest of the orders into his bag and did his usual exchange of new orders and payment. Nagito dutifully logged their exchanges in his pocketbook.

Hinata hefted his bag. “Well, I’m off.”

“See you,” Nagito said. “Make sure you rest when you get back home. It’d be bad if your cold got any worse.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry about me.” Hinata waved him off as he left. “I’ll feel better soon anyway, thanks to your potion.”

Hinata’s parting words made warmth spread throughout Nagito’s body. For the rest of the day he hummed as he worked, feeling light as he handled his other patrons. Though a small voice kept whispering to him that his feelings would never be reciprocated, Hinata’s pleasant voice, complimenting and thanking him, played and replayed in Nagito’s brain and effectively drowned those whispers out.

<hr>

A few days later on a rainy morning, Nagito was cleaning the shelves when the bell above the shop door tinkled cheerfully. Since it was right around Hinata’s usual pickup time, Nagito called out a greeting without looking up from his work.

“Good morning, Hinata-kun! Are you feeling better?”

A familiar voice answered him. “Yo, Komaeda. It’s me this time.”

But it wasn’t the familiar voice that made butterflies flutter in his stomach. Nagito turned and tried not to look visibly disappointed as Souda’s shockingly pink hair came into view. The trails of water he trekked onto the shop floor certainly didn’t help lift his mood.

“Ah, pardon me, Souda-kun. I thought you were completing your apprenticeship?”

It wasn’t as if Nagito hated Souda, not at all. Souda was a hard worker, especially when he was delivering commissions for Sonia and didn’t brush off Nagito on most days. But with Souda, the fact that they were merely business associates was clear as day. They weren’t friends outside work, and once Souda completed his apprenticeship, he would presumably work as an artillerist full-time. A skilled craftsman like himself had no reason to visit some tiny potion shop at the end of the road. And one little witch didn’t have any business seeking out the company of someone as talented as Souda.

Souda strolled up to the counter and startled rifling through his bag. “Some stuff came up, so I’m working again.”

“I see,” Nagito said. He wanted to ask when Souda would go back to his apprenticeship, but it would’ve looked like he was disappointed to see him. Instead Nagito went, “well, it’s good that you’re making some extra money in the meantime.”

“Yeah.”

Their conversation ended there. Normally Nagito would say more, but for some reason, he couldn’t motivate himself to engage Souda in more idle chit chat. Perhaps the dreariness of the gray skies beyond his shop window made Nagito more apathetic. Whatever it was, neither he nor Souda seemed to have any desire to keep talking.

Thus they performed their routine exchange of goods in silence. And what an awkward silence it was; the sounds of rain pattering against the window, glass bottles scraping against the counter, and the occasional squelch of Souda’s boots as he shifted were the only sounds that filled the shop. Nagito didn’t dislike working, but the general atmosphere of the shop coupled with the disappointment of not seeing Hinata lulled him into a state of boredom that he couldn’t seem to shake. How was it that just a few hours spent with Hinata was infinitely more interesting than anything Nagito encountered in his life?

Surprisingly, it was Souda who broke the awkward silence between them.

“Man, what’s got you so gloomy? You’re usually a lot more talkative.”

“Hm?” Nagito asked, rousing out of his thoughts. “Oh, it’s just the weather. Rainy days like these make me a little lethargic.”

“Yeah, makes sense.”

Souda took a glance at the delivery addresses. Then all of the sudden, he squealed like a little kid. “Actually, this is great! I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling extra pumped now! I haven’t been able to see Sonia-san since I left to do my apprenticeship, but now that I’m working again, I get to do a delivery for her!”

He pumped his fists wildly, scattering water droplets everywhere. “Do you think she missed seeing me? She missed me, didn’t she? That’s why she kept ordering things even when I was gone—she was waiting for me to come again!”

Souda whooped. “Wait for me, my princess! I’ll be there to rescue you from evil soon!”

Nagito smiled a bit. Though he was still disappointed that Hinata wasn’t there, Souda provided some relief from his boredom. “Sounds like it. Why else would she order stuff from just a little witch like me?”

He checked his pocketbook, scanning over her previous orders. “Not only that, but she didn’t buy any Pest Repellant with her other orders when Hinata-kun was doing the deliveries. I wonder if that means she managed to get the infestation at her place under control.”

Souda scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, she must have. The entrance to her place always reeked of the stuff when I came, but I never saw any insects crawling around.”

Nagito closed his pocketbook with a snap, beaming. “So even mediocre stuff made by me worked! I hope the poison immunity potions and the Lovers’ Brew she ordered performs to her standards as well.”

“L-Lovers’ Brew?” Suddenly Souda banged his fists on the counter. “You mean, like a love potion? You never told me you can make stuff like that! Come on, you have to give me some!” Nagito raised his hands in surrender with a nervous laugh. “Sorry, sorry. I don’t have any in stock right now, and it takes a long time to brew to boot.”

Seeing Souda about to object, he added, “besides, things won’t work with you if she already drank it with another party. It’s a little exclusive like that. It seems you’re out of luck, Souda-kun. My condolences.”

“What kind of rules are those?!” Souda pulled at his hair in frustration. “Don’t tell me she’s seeing someone else! Is it that stupid overlord guy who’s always there with her when I come? Or was Hinata trying to pull something funny while I was gone?”

Nagito didn’t know who Souda meant by ‘that stupid overlord guy’ but hearing Hinata’s name made his heart feel tight. For a moment Nagito believed Souda—if Sonia was suddenly enamored with Hinata, then drinking the Lovers’ Brew with him would be within the realm of possibility. Nagito had only seen Sonia a handful of times, but she was very beautiful indeed. If Hinata found her attractive…

For a moment Nagito felt something flare within his chest, a chemical reaction that left him seeing green. But just as quickly his brain kicked him. Though they hadn’t talked much about Hinata’s other clients, Hinata seemed a bit exasperated with extreme personalities. And he hardly batted an eye when he went to deliver the Lovers’ Brew the last time he was here. If he was meant to be its recipient, he should’ve seemed at least a little excited, right?

Then there was the matter of the actual brew in question. If Nagito recalled correctly, then it worked only when…

Before he could finish his thought, Souda’s ranting yanked Nagito out of his head. “Gah! Forget it! I gotta go check on her and stop her from drinking it with that bastard!”

Souda turned on his heel and bolted for the exit. The bell jingled wildly as he flung the door open. It shut with an unceremonious bang, and then Nagito was alone in his shop.

Rain continued to drum dully against the shop’s roof. Had it not been for the puddles on the floor, then Nagito would’ve thought that the past few minutes hadn’t transpired and that this day was just one of many gray days without anything of note. But since they were there, he had to clean it up. With a sigh, Nagito went to the back to retrieve a mop.

Just as he was about to return to the shopfront, though, the thought that Souda had interrupted earlier sprang back into his mind: there was no such thing as a true love potion. That was one of the first things he learned in school. What people called love potions only caused feelings of obsession bordering on mania, which more often destroyed relationships than deepened them. Others were love potions in name only; the Lovers’ Brew in particular was only meant to be a celebratory potion to be drunk with significant others, not unlike a fancy wine or champagne. It didn’t create love. It only was a sign of it.

Nagito chuckled to himself. He had told Souda he was out of luck when he said he didn’t have any Lovers’ Brew in stock, but since it wasn’t an actual love potion, maybe Souda still had a chance. It was a slim one, given that it seemed Sonia was interested in another person despite (or perhaps because) of Souda’s attempts to woo her, but the possibility was still there.

So if even Souda had a chance, did Nagito have one too?

It was a foolish thought. There were many reasons why Hinata wouldn’t return his feelings, more than the amount of raindrops that fell from the sky. Yet as Nagito sponged up the water in his shop, pushing it and swirling it around until it dried, he couldn’t get the notion out of his head.

<hr>

The few days that Hinata didn’t come to the shop turned into weeks. Nagito should’ve let go of his crush the moment Souda said he’d be working in his area again, yet thoughts of conversations they could share, outings they could go on, and a million other what ifs refused to leave his head. Nagito couldn’t do anything without something reminding him of Hinata. Foraging in Evershift Forest was the biggest one, so Nagito tried to look for ingredients downtown. But walking to downtown meant rounding the corner where they fatefully crashed together the day they first met. Even tending to his potted herbs, once a relaxing pastime for him, made his head spin with a single compliment of ‘your plants are pretty nice’ that spiraled into other compliments that Nagito wanted to hear in Hinata’s voice.

Simply put, absence made Nagito’s heart grow fonder, but it was also completely killing him.

What frustrated him to no end was that he still didn’t know anything about Hinata. What did he do outside work? What were his favorite haunts? Where could Nagito find him? Nagito wished he hadn’t blabbered about his whole backstory when they went into the forest together because it left Hinata with hardly an opportunity to talk about himself.

Worst of all, there was a small, selfish voice in Nagito’s head that he fought to suppress for asking things like why hasn’t he visited us? Again, there were a million reasons why Hinata didn’t come back—work, having other people in his life to care about, Nagito’s rudeness, Nagito’s inability to be normal, Nagito’s tendency to ramble over the smallest things—the list went on.

Illogical, pointless, weird. Those were three words that Nagito used to describe himself. Someone like him could never hope to keep people near him for long. That’s why Hinata, a person so kind enough to help a clumsy, troublesome witch like Nagito, wouldn’t bother wasting his time to come back.

Nagito should just let go of his stupid crush. That way, his heart wouldn’t race maddeningly every time he heard the bell above the door jingle, just as it did now while he was in the middle of sorting things out in the back. The shop was due to close in five minutes, so unless the customer needed something he already had in stock, Nagito wouldn’t be able to brew anything in time.

From behind the curtains, Nagito called out a tired, “sorry, I’m closing soon. I won’t be able to help you today.”

The voice Nagito heard made him freeze in his tracks. “Oh, I’m not here for business. I was wondering if you were free after you closed, actually.”

Nagito could hardly hear himself over his dizzying heartbeat. Still bent over a crate of ingredients, he asked, “Hinata-kun?”

“Yeah, it’s me. But if it’s a bad time, then I can come another day—”

Nagito hurriedly sprang to his feet.

“No need!” he cried.

Like a mouse scurrying out of a snake’s den, Nagito nearly tripped over himself trying to get into the storefront. Then in his haste, his foot caught onto something and he tripped for real. He got a flash of something like déjà vu; Hinata yelled out a ‘hey!” as Nagito hurtled towards the ground. Only this time, things seemed to happen in slow motion. Before Nagito could somersault onto the floor, solid arms went around him and stopped him from falling further. His vision went dark.

Hinata’s voice was some parts bewildered and some parts an emotion Nagito couldn’t quite place. “What was that?”

Nagito was about to reply with a spectacular accident only I could achieve when he took note of the position he was in. Suspended by his armpits in a manner almost like a hug, Nagito felt soft fabric against his face. The faint smell of soap tickled his nose. And when he blinked, he became all too aware of the rising and falling motion of a person breathing against his face.

With mounting horror Nagito realized he had just planted himself face-first into Hinata’s chest like some romantic trope. Nagito desperately tried not to scream as Hinata spoke again.

“Seriously, what was that? You would’ve broken your jaw if I didn’t catch you.”

Nagito felt the arms around him begin to move, and then he was being hauled up to his feet the way a kitten gets picked up by the scruff of its neck. He wobbled, disoriented, until Hinata steadied him with a firm hand to his shoulder.

“Are… you okay?” Hinata asked. He sounded worried, as if Nagito had actually fallen and gotten concussed.

Nagito did his best to plaster on a normal smile. He tried not to think about how warm his face was. “Ahaha, yes. Just feeling some vertigo.”

Vertigo, and the sensation like his blood was about to evaporate from his body. Nagito laughed some more. How truly hopeless he was, becoming such a bumbling mess from Hinata’s presence alone. And that didn’t even take into consideration the effect Hinata’s touch had on him.

Speaking of touches, Hinata’s hand was still on his shoulder from when he steadied him. Nagito was about to point out that Hinata needn’t trouble himself touching him when Hinata let go of him as if he was burned. Hinata cleared his throat.

“Vertigo!” he said loudly. “Yeah, I’ll say. That must have been some vertigo you felt there. Yeah.”

Nagito blinked. Perhaps it was because the sun was beginning to set, pink and orange hues streaming in from his shop’s window, but Hinata was looking rather rosy. Could he be…?

“Are you sick, Hinata-kun?”

“What?” Hinata asked, sounding oddly… defensive? “What makes you think I’m sick?”

Baffled at his reaction, Nagito ventured hesitantly, “you were sick the last time you were here. I guess that means my potion didn’t work… as expected from a lowly witch like me.”

“No! No, I—” Hinata put a hand to his head— “hold on, I need to start over.”

He took a deep breath. “I came here because the potion worked, so I don’t get what you’re saying. It’s just, it’s not true.”

“I—I see,” Nagito said simply. “So, then why are you here, if you don’t need more?”

“Didn’t I already ask you? I wanted to know if you were free after you closed. There’s an event going on in the marketplace and I wanted to know if you wanted to go.”

Nagito blinked. What was happening right now was a scene straight from his daydreams: Hinata showing up at his door, Hinata helping him even as he made a fool of himself, Hinata offering to take him somewhere to spend time with him. But this couldn’t really be happening, could it? Could he accept?

Unable to answer those questions, Nagito defaulted to caution. No use in assuming he knew what Hinata’s intentions were. “I would be free.”

Then, because he couldn’t resist, “forgive me if I’m being presumptuous, but would that mean we’re going together?”

Hinata gave him his signature half-smile. It was embarrassing how much Nagito missed it.

“What, you think I came here just to tell you that and then abandon you?”

The little voice that Nagito thought he had under wraps sprang out of him. “Well, it has been a long time since you’ve been here.”

The way Hinata’s smile fell off his face made Nagito want to sink into the ground. Why did he have to say that?

“That’s… I can explain it to you, but first, I want to know if that’s a yes.”

There was no way Nagito could refuse, not after all that. “It is. Though I’m surprised as to why you still want to see me, after all the unsightly things I’ve done.”

Hinata shook his head. “Again, I don’t really know what you’re talking about. You’re kind of a strange guy, Komaeda.”

“Huh?” Nagito asked.

“Nevermind, forget I said that.”

Strangely, the corners of his mouth had quirked back up again. Before Nagito could wonder about it, Hinata gestured towards the door.

“Anyways, let’s go before it gets dark.”

At Hinata’s urging, all Nagito could do was quickly untie his apron and follow him out. He tried to ignore the way his heart hammered in his chest as he thought about all the ways he has screwed up and will screw up around Hinata.

But somehow, walking side by side with him calmed his nerves a bit. If Hinata was kind enough to invite him out, then he might also be kind enough to overlook any other faux pas Nagito could make.

The bell jingled cheerfully behind them as they left.

#komahina #fanfiction #komahina secret exchange

32 notes · View notes

askkrenko · 4 years ago

Text

Krenko's Guide to Pokemon: Happiny Line

Can I offer you a nice egg in this trying time?

DESIGN:

Happiny is pure soft pink round cuteness. It's not quite as clean as something like Jigglypuff, but the bottom that looks like some sort of baby seat, the curly hair atop its head, and its little egg-stone just add to its adorability. I admit I don't fully get what's going on in the split between its top and bottom halves, but it's adorable just the same.

Chansey is particularly simple, big, round, and holding an egg. There's not much to Chansey's design, but the floppy things on the sides of its head that might be ears or hair or something add just a bit of texture and break up its design just enough to be unique and interesting instead of boring.

Blissey fluffs up further, adding curly hair and fluffy fur (yes, the Pokedex says fur) that resembles a skirt and flared gloves. I do like Blissey's design, but I think it's a bit too close to Chansey's. Unlike most evolved forms, the visual differences that separate Blissey from Chansey don't make it look like an older, stronger version, or even a transformed one. If anything, Blissey looks like it could be a Regional Form of Chansey more than an evolved form.

Well, it still looks a hell of a lot better than it’s Beta Design (art by Rachel Briggs) . That stupid thing has a mouth and/or a butt on its head. Also TWO EGGS because two is eggier than one.

EVOLUTIONS:

Happiny evolves to Chansey when leveled up during the day while holding a completely non-magical rock that looks like an egg. This is about as big a waste of time as you can get from a Pokemon that's just going to its second form and should evolve on its own at level 20 or so. On the flip side, the only way to get your Chansey to lay a Happiny egg is give the Chansey a "Luck Incense" before breeding...

Now buckle up, because I'm about to explain to you why "Incense" is one of my least favorite mechanics in all the Pokemon games. I'm sure I'll complain more in the future, but this is a big one.

See, when a Chansey has a baby normally, its egg hatches into a fully grown Chansey who has its own egg. Only by breeding a Chansey while using "Luck Incencse" do you get a Happiny. This means that Happiny isn't the natural form of Chansey, and there shouldn't be any wild Happiny without significant amounts of wild Luck Incense, but they're there. They exist. They're all over Alola. You know what's NOT all over Alola? Luck Incense. You have to buy that stuff specifically from a dealer.

And is this GOOD for the Chansey? A Happiny is so much weaker than a Chansey that in the wild it's just a huge disadvantage for a Chansey to lay a Happiny Egg over a Chansey Egg, so you'd think they'd know to avoid Luck Incense.

There's no logical or reasonable benefit of these Incenses, and it's honestly just weird that they're necesarry. But why ARE they necesarry? Because Pokemon HATES changing data, other than movesets. Movesets change constantly and are rearranged every generation, but evolution means, breeding lines, and abilities basically never change no matter how little sense they make. So Happiny can't exist on its own because in Generations 2 and 3 Chanseys laid Chansey Eggs, and you can't change it now even if you're adding in Happiny, so it has to be 'newly discovered' through some 'strange method.'

KishiShiotani drew a baby Chansey because those are normal for some reason

So what do we do? We drug our Chanseys in order to get a premature Chansey Baby that's Smaller and Cuter and we call it a new Pokemon. And you know what? Chansey's base stats are pretty hefty. It deserved a Baby version. But it can't just HAVE a Baby Version it has to have the ability to jump through hoops to get it... And then that baby can't just evolve into Chansey, it has to get a special rock and only come out during the day for some stupid reason.

Incense Babies should be stricken from the game. The mechanic, that is. Happiny should stick around forever, but every baby Chansey or Blissey should be a Happiny. And they should just evolve at level 20 or something.

Chansey evolves into Blissey with Friendship. Which makes sense for this Pokemon and is a fine and reasonable mechanic.

Happiny’s Egg by Momogirl

TYPING:

The Happiny line is pure Normal type, which means weak to fighting, immune to ghost, and ineffective against Rock, Steel, and Ghost. This is generally a pretty poor type to be, especially offensively, but having only one weakness is really good for tankier Pokemon. Only Fighting type attacks are super-effective against the Happiny line, making it harder to topple them.

STATS:

Blissey has the highest HP in the game. In fact, Blissey's 255 HP is the highest stat in the game. Couple this with 135 Special Defense and Blissey is the best Special wall in all of Pokemon. Unfortunately, this comes with a drawback. At a disturbingly low 10 physical defense, Blissey's 255 HP doesn't actually let it take a punch from many attackers.

Blissey's speed is low, though not the worst, and its special attack at 75 is a comfortable average. Blissey's not a great attacker, but Pokemon can't ignore it. Its physical attack, like its defense, is an impossibly low 10, but that's easily solved by just not using any physical attacks.

Let’s get Happy by couchmochi

ABILITIES:

Blissey's Hidden Ability, Healer, only works in double battles. At the end of each turn, it has a 30% chance to remove your other Pokemon's status effects. This is fine, but double only.

Serene Grace is a great ability that isn't really relevant to Blissey. Serene Grace doubles the chance of secondary effects on moves, but there's nothing in Blissey's list that this is particularly relevant on. Sure, it means Ice Beam has a 20% chance to freeze instead of a 10%, but that's still mediocre at best.

Most Blisseys are going to want to use Natural Cure, which automatically heals all status conditions when switched out. This means Blissey is far less susceptible to Poison and Burn than other tanky Pokemon, and being able to remove Paralysis and Sleep with a switch is nice, too. Bonus points for PvE where this also heals status effects after battles.

pokenurses by Crayon-Chewer

MOVES:

Soft-Boiled, Blissey's signature move, heals it 50% its max HP. Which is a lot. The only excuse for not teaching your Blissey Soft-Boiled is if you'd managed to keep an Event Wish Chansey from 2004 and are using Wish instead. Good luck with that.

Dealing damage with Blissey is then the hard part. In older generations it could learn Toxic, but that got seriously cut down in Sword and Shield. Which means the best way to deal damage is to get a Machop, level it up to 40 until it learns Seismic Toss, breed it with a female Pancham until you get a male baby, breed that Pancham with a female, Mawile until you get a male baby, and then breed that Mawile with a Chansey or Blissey so that the baby learns Seismic Toss.

Or, if you're not crazy, just teach it Flamethrower and hope you inflict a burn. Blissey actually learns a good variety of special attacks, so you can pick others like Ice Beam, Thunderbolt, Shadow Ball, or Psychic for specific coverage.

If not using Toxic, Thunder Wave does a good job at weakening foes for you to gradually defeat them with an attacking move.

Blissey can learn Stealth Rock, which is often worth setting up when you've got a free turn due to tankiness.

The best move list for Blissey would probably be Wish, Toxic, Teleport, and Seismic Toss. A casual, reasonable move list for Blissey in Gen 8 is Soft-Boiled, Flamethrower, Thunder Wave, and Stealth Rock.

OVERALL:

Blissey is an amazing Special Wall, but with Gen 8 taking Toxic away from it, Wish being trapped behind a time machine, and Seismic Toss being so difficult for it to learn it has a hard time leveraging that into anything resembling a win. Still, spamming Flamethrower forever isn't a bad strategy, even if it's not what one would expect to see from Blissey. Blissey’s great, but the difference between a modern Blissey and a top-quality Blissey is pretty notable.

Magical Nurse Joy by Mi-eau

#Krenko's Pokemon Guide #Happiny #Chansey #Blissey

13 notes · View notes

tortue-souris · 4 years ago

Note

Parchment + candles + corduroy + violin + library +leather + canvas + feather + shadow + clock + orchestra + fire + tweed + dust (but if you really are bored you can do all of them or come to my flat to wash the dishes 😈😈😈)

THANK YOU FOR ASKING ME I HAD FUN (nope) :D

parchment: what area of philosophy interests you?

Philosophy ? What is that ? Never heard of such a thing

candles: favorite quote?

Depends on my mood haha. Today I’m gonna go for this one from Anouilh’s Antigone :

“La vie n’est pas ce que tu crois. C’est une eau que les jeunes gens laissent couler sans le savoir, entre leurs doigts ouverts. Ferme tes mains, ferme tes mains, vite. Retiens la. Tu verras, cela deviendra une petite chose dure et simple qu’on grignote, assis au soleil.”

corduroy: any big past regrets?

You mean Many big past regrets? Yep.

violin: favorite composer? favorite piece of classical music?

It’s suuuuch a hard questiiooon dammmnnn my favorite piece of classical music would be between Tchaikovski famous violin’s concerto of course and Gershwin Rhapsody in Blue so pick one of these pieces and one of these composers to answer the question sowy :’)

library: preferred study environment?

It used to be my room, 100%, wouldn’t work anywhere else but that was when studying meant learning by heart, so now that I have some actual research and stuff to do and I apparently can’t get ANYTHING done when at home I’d say the 2nd floor of the INHA library... it feels so special and secret and magical !

leather: favorite book(s)? what makes them special?

Favorite and very special books are the Pierre Bottero serie “Ellana”, they left such an impression on the child I was haha, I cherish their story, their universe, their characters...!

canvas: is there any work of art that resonates with you? why?

I hate u :’)

It’s hard to chose but honestly Chardin’s paintings get me everytime. I knoooow they have “nothing special” at first sight but they’ve always made me feel something I cannot describe with words... It’s like it’s not those big paintings with epic actions and History that make you go “waow impressive” but it’s taking you by its sense of truth, idk the atmosphere, the games of textures and colors... It’s so real and surreal at the same time... Like ordinary life, but with a veil of... I don’t know nostalgia I think ? Like a memory in a way. A very small detail you would pass by without noticing but once it became a memory, or once a memory is attached to it, you notice it, and it has this special kind of glow to your eyes... Anyway Chardin was the best to turn everyday life into a work of art and that is truly inspiring and special and ahhh i love it. It’s probably why I also love Manet so much, but I’m particularly fond of his less known paintings, his still lifes, just look at the pictures below it makes me feel very emotional (yes it’s just a lemon im aware of that)

Here is Chardin La Tabagie (it’s very small) (It’s in the Louvre) (the picture is unfair to the beauty of this work)

And here are two of my favourite Manet works but the picture don’t do them justice either :’(

But it was honestly very hard to chose and you can check Odilon Redon for works that I adore without being able to tell why, some Vallotton in the same spirit... And then I could have talked for ages about Titien of course cause aaahhh... the light, the skin, the atmospheeeere... And don’t even get me started on sculptures cause that would be endless. Honestly can I answer this question twice or maybe 15th times ? xD

feather: favorite poet? favorite piece of poetry?

I don’t read enough poetry to have a favourit poet im afraid :( (omg not having a favourite piece of poetry ? I would be SO disapproved by the Baudelaires)

shadow: what makes you feel nostalgic?

PAR EXEMPLE AU HASARD REGARDER SPIRIT ToT

Top five : thinking of my childhood and the games we were playing, hearing a piece I played with my orchestra, eating something that tastes like my childhood (like LAIT CONCENTRE SUCRE), have a drink or a diner on a terrace in Paris (my heart is dying now), and... life in general haha

clock: early bird or night owl?

Early bird... but... old owl :p

orchestra: describe the songs on your most played playlist

Well it doesn’t work very well with me because I don’t listen to music that often and when I do it’s often do discover new stuff or to listen to a whole album or random playlists... So if I look at my “on loop” playlist on spotify it really doesn’t make any sense... And since I don’t have the app I cannot have access to my top 2020 titles... But I’m pretty sure that would be Pomme everywhere XD These days I listen to Arlo Parks a lot cause I’ve just discovered her and I love what she does :D

fire: which of the seven deadly sins do you find yourself leaning towards?

I think we would both agree about that : definetely gluttony xD But wrath is coming close too :(

tweed: any languages you want to learn/are learning?

Hmmmmmmm perhaps arabic ?

dust: biggest fears?

SPIDERS O.O MORE RECENTLY : LOSING THE SENSE OF TASTE THAT WOULD BE LIKE DYING TO ME O.O FAILING O.O héhé

Well THAT kept me VERY BUSY so THANK YOU and also NOPE SORRY I can’t come to wash your dishes because TONIGHT I have to watch RATATOUILLE with my SILLY VIEILLE CHOUETTE DE SOEUR :p

So now I tag oh no wait it’s not one of them :p

Bye bye vieille chouette ! SEE YOU SOON !

#it actually took so long omg haha now i have to clean my fridge AND my shower AND hover my flat AND prepare my stuff to come home yeeeeeet

1 note · View note

queerchoicesblog · 4 years ago

Text

New York, At Last (SC Titanic, Zetta x Adele Series)

So, folks, here’s the new chapter of the series. Thank you so much for your support, hope you enjoy it!

Little disclaimer-favor: especially since the tags don’t seem to be working anymore, if you do enjoy it, please consider supporting the author & sharing this. A little gesture that means a lot!

Word Count: 3000+

Zetta x Adele Tag: @storyscaped @storyscapefanficarchive @marmolady @animus-and-anima @hayley-carter19 @escako @everlastingchoices @indescribablechoices @ahrielstuff @bornonawdnsday @nazario-sayeed @h-doodles @adele-serda @marlcasters @brightpinkpeppercorn @michelleconnoly @charliejane-blog @ghost-of-yuri @choicesgremlin @lanzhansguqin @orange-elephants

Zetta x Adele Series Tag: @eternal-langdon @nydeiri

➡️ Ch. 1, Ch. 2/1, Ch. 2/2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Ch. 5, Ch. 6, Ch. 7, Ch. 8/1, Ch. 8/2, Ch. 9, Ch. 10/1, Ch. 10/2, Ch. 11/1, Ch. 11/2, Ch. 12, Ch. 13

____________________________________

A thick fog rises and surrenders our ship as we sail towards New York. It lingers there, night and day, as if it's escorting us to our destination. We can hardly see the ocean anymore, we acknowledge its presence by the murmur of the waves, the breathing of the cold water beneath us. The captain must have given order to be careful because we proceed at low speed, "like in a funeral march" I find myself noting one day. I refrain myself from saying that out loud though. We are asked to stay below deck as much as possible as storms are announced. We sail through troubled waters: some of us get sick, others are too shattered to even register the rolling of the ship. The morale on board has crashed since our first day here. Both the crew and the passengers of the Carpathia have offered us help, sympathy and support. Some gave us their coats or whatever clothing item could keep us warm after we lost everything. They didn't ask for anything in return. Others helped searching for missing people: now a list of names is pinned in one of the halls. People check it regularly with a mix of hope and dread: hope to see their friend or loved one again, dread to spot a black cross by the name so dear to them. If someone cannot be found here on the ship is declared perished in the sinking. Unofficially, obviously, the mourning ones can still try and search them when we reach shore but most surrender under the weight of those tiny scribbles. Those black crosses are not just a quick sign on paper, they pierce through their aching hearts.

As our rescue journey is coming to an end, we are all mourning. The lucky ones who were reunited with their families and friends keep a low profile in respect of all those who lost their loved ones. Their grief is overwhelming, you can sense it, even breathe it in the grim silence that fill the night. Poor souls... I feel almost guilty when on our last day on board I accidentally bump into two familiar faces. I was looking for a steward when I collided with...Lawrence. Felix is right behind him. My heart skips a beat as I call out their names. Lawrence smiles at me and I am so relieved that we met again. We hug each other and I inhale the faint perfume of his eau de cologne. They survived, they survived... I repeat those words in my head as I pull Felix in for an embrace too. They both survived: I don't even start imagining what sort of pain would have tortured one of them if the other didn't make it. They wouldn't have allowed it: if there had been no way to save both of them, they would have gone down with the ship together. I know it, I saw it in their eyes when we parted on the deck. They told me how they stayed until there was no time left. Many of those who are here now owe them their lives: they kept directing women and children and even some men to the boats before jumping on the very last lifeboat at the very last minute. I couldn't be more proud of these two unaware heroes I am honoured to call friends. They are going to visit the little boy they rescued and his brother: the woman they entrusted them to is still taking care of them. Others passengers are helping too. No one has understood what language they speak or where they're from, where their parents are but at least they're safe. "That's all that matters now", Felix notes and I agree. If only the world could see what shining beauty my friends hold... Before parting, they ask me about me: could I find a spot on a boat fast? Did I succeed in speaking some sense into the thick skull of that officer? Is James with me? I share my last moments on the ship with them and when I am still in the middle of my answer, Lawrence reaches for my hand and gives it a squeeze. "Did you find Miss Carrem? Is...is she here?" he asks, concern written all over his face. Felix is grimacing too. Their expression relaxes only when I assure them that yes, we were reunited on the deck and she's now resting with her sister. Lawrence's face color up again as he lets out a deep sigh of relief. "We were so worried, Zetta! When we spotted her on the deck we immediately directed her to the lifeboats and to you...but we weren't sure if you two could find each other in the midst of all that chaos or get on a boat" he explains. "Yes, we pictured the worst...we're so relieved, Miss Zetta, so incredibly relived" Felix continues, smiling. I wonder what I did good in my life to have men like them on my side. Their affection and empathy soothe my troubled soul and make me wish to never part from them. I should invite them more often when we reach shore, yes we should see each other more often...things can change and will change now that we'll be all in New York. I ask them if they want to see Adele: I can wake her, I'm sure she will be more than happy to see them. They assure me it's fine and beg me not wake her. They will visit later maybe but for now they're just happy "she's here safe and sound". "And that you are together again" Lawrence adds with a tired smile. The soft warmth in his voice tells me what I already know: he knows, they know. How could they not? But my secret is safe with them and I am grateful to them for the genuine care they showed to Adele. And well, me. I hug them both one more time then we part ways. I hope to see them very soon. I must invite them over once our lives will slowly go back to a new normal. Maybe this tragedy will make us closer. When I finally find a steward, I am informed that we are approaching shore. "We'll be in New York tonight, ma'am" he announces with an encouraging smile as if to say that our troubles are over. I go back to my group and share the news. Adele and Hileni are still sleeping, only Teo, Jaime and Sabine greet my announcement with a nod but keeps quiet. I know what's going on in their heads, their thoughts are my thoughts: it feels so weird to hear these words after all we've been through. It almost doesn't feel right when so many of us are not here. Even when the news spread among the other survivors I hear no cheer, only sighs: could it be relief or grief, it's hard to tell. Maybe both. A silent question echo in the room: now what? Sabine shakes her head and gives a grim laugh. "I thought I would have been buried in work today, instead..." She looks down at her empty hands: my little Napoleon so efficient and fond of schedules must feel lost now. No scrupulous packing to do, no checking if our belongings are properly gathered or something is missing. She takes her job very seriously and - I realise it now- her job is her life. "Consider this a free day" It's Matteo speaking, he sounds absentminded but then he turns towards Sabine and meets her gaze. "Allow yourself to be the one being served, for once" he adds. He tries to smirk, one of his signature smirk I saw on his face so very often, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. He looks tired and troubled just like us. As if on cue, a waitress approaches us and asks if we would like a cup of coffee. I see Sabine barely refraining herself from reaching out to help her: it feels almost unnatural to her being on the other side. The waitress is a young girl, I wonder if she's even twenty. She's chatty: she comments how nice coming home must feel after a journey like ours. She has relatives in New York but never visited the city properly although "it is truly gorgeous, isn't it?". She asks us if it's our final destination and wishes all the very best. She parts from us with an encouraging smile: she will come back later to bring coffee to Adele and Hileni when they wake up. It's evening when we enter the bay and proceed towards the pier, escorted by a scout cruiser. We move to one of the decks only to find it crammed with other survivors. We have to fight our way through the crowd once again to get a spot near the railing. We are all to see with our own eyes if our journey has truly come to an end. If we're truly safe. The lights of New York flicker in the distance despite the heavy rain. Now I know it's over, all the horrors and fears are finally over. A lump forms in my throat at the sight of my city, my home but I shake it off. I reach for Hileni's hand and guide her upwards, pointing her the sea of lights on the shore. "There, sweetheart, look! See those lights? It's America" Three long blasts of the ship horns frame my words. The young girl squeezes her eyes to see better; after a moment, a tiny smile crosses her lips and relief washes over me. "It's...shiny!" she notes. "Shiny is definitely one word for it" I agree, smiling at her naive awe. For a moment, I am reminded of myself, my young self when I first saw the city that eventually became my home. I wager I was around the same age of Hileni. And just like her, that sight filled me with a mix of wonder, adrenaline and vague hope. "Adal, come here, come see! It's New York!" she says, turning and calling for her sister. Adele is right behind. Hearing her name, she immediately approaches us. "So, this is it?" she asks, placing her hands on Hileni's shoulders and pressing a quick kiss on top of her head. "So unimpressed, huh, Adele?" I tease her but when our eyes meet a soft smile is on my lips. "I promise it gets better, give it time" Without thinking twice, I wrap my arm around her waist and move a bit closer. "Welcome to New York" I add and for some reason I feel my eyes welling with tears. My love keeps quiet but a weak smile draws on her face. She rests her head on my shoulder and we both look into the distance, towards our new lives to come. There is a grim irony in how bittersweet the end of our journey is. We were supposed to make a glorious arrival, a triumphant march towards America on the "Queen of the Sea" but there is nothing of that fantasy now. The Titanic sleeps at the bottom of the ocean with many poor souls, too many poor souls and we're proceeding towards our initial destination sombrely in a cold rainy New York night. The fog hasn't lifted completely so we must look like a ghost ship. A ghost ship approaching in the mist filled with us, ghosts among ghosts. The darkness around us is lit up only by the city lights at the horizon and the flashlights of cameras of a bunch of photographers on a tug boat following us to the pier. It goes without saying that the Titanic tragedy will be the talk of the town for weeks, months maybe...but I wish those vultures could have refrained themselves until we reach shore. We proceed in front of them in mournful silence, indifferent to the flashlights hitting our faces. When we finally dock and the vibration of the engines beneath our feet subsides, we all stand in disbelief. It's over, it's truly over now. We're in America. The Carpathia passengers are disembarked first: the Captain is afraid the scene will become tumultuous as we survivors, the main attraction for the press, will appear. His concerns are well founded judging by the loud buzz coming from beneath us. When it's our turn to go I take a deep breath and give one last grateful look to the crew waving us goodbye and whispering good wishes as we pass by. Heavy raindrops run down my face as I walk down the gangway but I hardly notice. As my feet touch land I shiver: I'm home yet...I feel like in a dream. I hold Adele's hand tight and we move cautiously forward into the crowd. I look around and all I see is a multitude of lost souls and flashlights. I don't hear what the men of the press are shouting, what the land officers are shouting back: all around their voices blend together and I can't distinguish who is saying what in this dissonant choir. "Let them pass, give them space for Christ's sake!" "What can you tell us about the sinking?" "A few words for the Tribune, please!" "Blankets, warm blankets, let me give you blanket, Sir" "How many people died?". I keep walking under the rain, following Sabine and Hileni proceeding arm in arm ahead of us. I think back at all those we left behind, like Charlie, my love's poor brave friend, and Mr. Andrews, defeated by his sense of guilt yet fighting till the end. All those desperate people screaming in the icy waters before surrendering to their grim fate. I think back of the upset young woman who was searching for her beloved Henry: I wonder where she is now and I pray a kind soul is taking care of her. We stop to let the medical personnel pass. They're holding a stretcher with a man buried under a pile of wool blankets. There are bandages around his head and his eyes don't seem to register what's happening around him. Another follows with a woman begging through tears the midwife holding her hand to call her husband. I shake away those thoughts before they can pierce my soul and I let my eyes wander through the crowd as we proceed. James is not far and so is Matteo. A few months ago I was standing on a pier just like this one, maybe this one waiting to start my journey. I was so relieved back then to get a break, to run away for a while...to see James again. So curious to see the "Ship of Dreams" everyone was talking about on my return trip. It all feels so hollow and distant now as if it happened in another life. Or maybe it's just me...I feel changed. I turn to Adele. My love looks like a stranded and forlorn Robin Crusoe setting foot on a foreign land: she keeps walking but she's lost, almost afraid of these new chaotic surroundings. She looks so fragile and different from the bold girl who stepped into my suite not so long ago. I feel like I could break her now if I hugged her too tight. I give her hand an encouraging squeeze and it seems to make her snap out of her misery. "Madam, the officers need to get the passengers names before letting everyone go, we asked around" Sabine's voice ground me. She and Hileni are looking at me, both getting soaked with rain. I'm grateful to my ever efficient little Napoleon for taking charge of the situation. "There are so many of us" Adele's sister notes grimly and she's right. No matter how few of us survived the sinking, the pier is packed and the press pushing in is of little help. "It will take hours to clear the pier" I sigh. That's when I notice Hileni trying and failing to hide a shiver. I am eternally thankful to the fan giving me one of her wintry coats on board as tonight New York is getting colder and colder and the rain keeps wetting our clothes, making it harder to fight the chill. I must reward my generous fan, I got her name and address I think... Adele's hand adjusts into mine and it's as cold as ice. She still has her blue jacket on and a thin blanket completely soaked around her shoulders. "You're cold" I wince. She tries to avoid my gaze, dismissing my concerns. She's just fine, she assures me but I know her well enough to detect a lie when I hear it. Even a white lie. "You too, poor thing" I add, addressing Hileni who wraps her blanket a bit tighter around her in full response. Maybe she wants to say she's fine too but I anticipate her. "No, no, we'll do something about it. We have to wait for a while here, huh? No sense in freezing us all in the meantime" I turn towards Sabine and add, with renewed resolution: "They're passing around warm blankets, right? You two stay here, Sabine and I will get some then we'll see what to do next" My little Napoleon gives me a firm nod and addresses some comforting words to Hileni, adjusting her blanket. "You don't have to, we're fine..." Adele voice is low and somber even if she's doing her best to conceal how shattered she feels inside. Her soft yet unconvincing smile makes my heart ache. She'll be good again when we'll be away from this chaos...it will take some time maybe, but she will be fine, truly fine again. I hate the idea of parting from her side but I'll be damned if I won't take care of her and her sister. Please allow me to, my sweet love. I cup her face and caress her damp cheek. She instinctively leans to the touch as if a little warmth was all she needed. "I won't hear it, love. Stay here, I'll be back before you know it" I whisper, a tender smile on my lips. Before taking my leave, I press a quick kiss on her forehead. Then I venture with Sabine through the messy crowd. With one last look above my shoulder I see the Carrem sisters holding hands and sharing a weak smile. Surprisingly, finding stewards with blankets is tougher thanI first thought. People are gathering and looking for other passengers and missing ones, indisciplined photographers pushing their way in to get a shot of the misery of the survivors. As we fight our way through and keep searching, I try to come up with a plan. "Once we sort all this bureaucracy out, we'll find a way to get out of here" I reason out loud with Sabine. I barely hear her answer. "I'm sure your fiancée Mr King is right here waiting for you, Madam-" "Adele and her sister can stay in the blue and green rooms...they should be comfortable there, what do you think?" My mind is racing as I scan the crowd. "The blue and the green rooms sound perfect, Madam. I'll have them ready in no time whe-" "Oh no need to, Sabine! I'm sure they're already in excellent state if I know you" We stop as an officer kindly asks if he could get our names. He smiles when I say mine. "Who wouldn't know your name, Miss Serda? It's good to see you here, safe and sound" A fan, obviously. After Sabine drops hers and he checks both on a list, we ask him where we can find blankets or coats for our friends. Apparently, we're not far from his colleague! We speed up following his directions and I think I can see a man handing out wool plaids to shivering passengers. "This way, Sabine, I see him!" I cheer. Then, out of the blue, a familiar voice calls my name. "Zetta!" I stop and turn towards the sound to see... "R-Richard?" I...completely forgot about him. I don't know how but I forgot about him. It only makes sense he would be here, I would have been to even if... I- I just erased such thought. He pushes his way through the crowd and runs towards me. He's crying, it's not just rain wetting his face. He pulls me into a tight embrace and bury his head in the crook of my neck. I feel awful for forgetting about him when he starts sobbing like a child, unafraid to show his feelings, his vulnerability. I hug him back and whispers words that I hope will make him stop crying and feel a bit better. No need to cry, I'm here. I'm here, Richard. It seems to work as he loosens up his arms and face me. It's the first time I see his face in months and vice versa he mine. I wonder what he sees. His hair are soaked, dark circles loom under his eyes and his lower lip still trembles a little as he cups my face and bring our forehead together. "I was so scared when I heard the news, Zetta, so scared..." his voice is shaky as he speaks. "I-I pictured the worst, I couldn't sleep, I-" "Oh Richard..." I wince. "I tried to get in touch with the Carpathia, to send Marconigrams, I only wanted to know if you survived but the communication lines were overcrowded-" I brush away a strand of wet hair from his face. "It's fine, darling, I'm here, I'm alive, we-" "You don't know how happy and relived I am that you are, Zetta! I don't know what I would have done if you weren't on this ship, if you died that night...I truly don't know-" He embraces me again just when flash powder ignites around us. Journalists. I don't even have to wait for their shoutings to know it's the greedy press. "Zetta, Zetta!" "A word for the press!" "Would you make a statement about the tragedy?" "How is it to be back?" "Is it true that the Titanic collided with an iceberg?" No, I can't do this. I don't want to. I hear Richard groaning like a wounded animal before turning towards them. "Please, leave her be, she's just arrived-" he says but his plea goes unanswered. Journalists are a famelic species and awfully stubborn. "Oh c'mon, you have no decency? Go away, I beg you" Richard rises a hand towards the cameras to protect us from the flashlights. His voice now betrays hints of anger but he's so broken that his words sound more like a prayer. I doubt this will work, knowing those vultures. He reaches for my hand and turns towards me, leaning close to be heard over the shoutings. "Come with me, lets get you out of here. James and his valet are with John, follow me" He pulls my hand gently but I freeze. I freeze as my mind race towards Adele. Adele waiting for me on the pier with Hileni. Adele to whom I promised to be back 'before she knows it'. "What?" It's all I can manage to say. My breath catches in my throat. Richard must think I couldn't hear what he says. He repeats his words and pulls my hand again. I don't move. "No, no I-I can't, I must go back, my...my friends are wait-" I mutter but I'm cut short by those vultures again. A flashlight blinds me: the vivid light hurt my tired eyes to the point I can't see for a moment, I cover my eyes and I'm momentarily surrounded by darkness only. I hear Richard shouting back at the journalist, he's angry and exasperated now. Then he wraps an arm around my waist and guides me away, shielding me with his body from the cameras. "This way, Zetta, Mademoiselle Sabine...." My feet move against my will. I don't wanna leave the pier yet I'm too exhausted to resist. I try though but my attempt is weak and can nothing against Richard's desperate determination to take us away from this mournful chaos. When I finally gets my vision back, I'm standing in front of two cars. John, Richard's right hand, is right there, holding an umbrella for Teo and James. He tips his hat respectfully and say words I don't listen but that I presume are some kind of welcome back, so glad to see you here or things like that. My eyes fall on my travel companions: Matteo displays a dignified yet somber demeanour -I wouldn't expect nothing less from him- and winces at me as I meet his gaze while Jaime...the expression on his face is completely numb. He's distant, somewhere far away from this pier and awfully quiet, the quietest I've ever seen him. Richard encourages us all to go before the journalists are back and guides me and Sabine towards a car, Teo and my nephew will ride in John's one. He opens the door and help my little Napoleon in then me. I throw one last look to the pier before taking my seat but I can't distinguish a single face. The sky is getting darker and the crowd is slow to disperse. I stretch my neck but it's useless...I can't see my love even if I know she's there somewhere out of view. Richard hurries in after me and hastily gestures at the driver to start the engine as the lights of the cameras approach fast. When the car cautiously moves towards the boulevard, he takes my hand into his and rises it to his lips. "It will all be alright, my love, I promise you. I'll take care of you..." I register the kiss on the back of my hand but I can barely hear him. I'm not here. I am sitting here in this car disappearing into the night but I'm not here, not truly. My mind is empty. All I can think of is Adele. My Adele waiting in vain for me in the rain. My Adele...

#titanic storyscape #zetta serda #adele carrem #zetta x adele #zetta x adele series

22 notes · View notes

wolfpawn · 5 years ago

Text

I Hate You, I Love You, Chapter 37

Chapter Summary - While Danielle prepares for the arrival of Benedict and Sophie, Tom wants to continue where they were so terribly interrupted.

Previous Chapter

Rating - Mature (some chapters contain smut)

Triggers - references to Tom Hiddleston’s work with the #MeToo Movement. That chapter will be tagged accordingly.

authors Note - I have been working on this for the last 3 years, it is currently 180+ chapters long. This will be updated daily, so long as I can get time to do so, obviously.

tags: @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @jessibelle-nerdy-mum @nonsensicalobsessions @damalseer @hiddlesbitch1 @winterisakiller @fairlightswiftly @salempoe @lys-syl @youcantcatchafallingstar

If you wish to be tagged, please let me know.

Tom stood, his phone to his ear, completely bemused at Benedict laughing in hysterics at the other end of the phone. “It isn’t funny Ben.”

“You’re absolutely right, it’s not.” Ben agreed before laughing again. “It’s fucking hilarious. You’re not getting any for the whole weekend now.”

“I haven’t seen her in over a week, and I am away for the next three,” Tom growled.

“Don’t want to know,” Benedict commented.

“Why did she have to walk in?” Tom rubbed his hand over his face, Benedict just began to chuckle on the other side of the phone.

“What’s so funny?” Sophie asked, having gotten in the passenger side of the car.

“Tom got cock-blocked by his mother.” Sophie looked at her husband with a raised brow. “She walked in on him and Danielle this morning, and poor Tom is frustrated now.”

“I don’t want to know. You, boys, are still in school mentality wise.” She shook her head disapprovingly.

“I hope she is pissed at you,” Tom growled down the phone.

“Hey, get that frustration out before we get there,” Benedict warned.

“How, she won’t let me near her.”

“I mean it Hiddleston; I am not dealing with you being sexually frustrated for the evening.” Benedict reiterated. “Do something, I don’t care what, but I am not listening to you.”

“Get off the phone then.”

“You rang me, you idiot.” Benedict chuckled back. “And to answer the question, we are about forty minutes away; we just had to stop for Sophie to go to the bathroom, the joys of pregnancy.” Tom could hear Sophie commenting in the background. “I know darling, and I love you all the more for it. We’ll see you soon Tom, just about to start up the car again, so I’ll get off.”

“You better.” Tom sighed, hanging up the phone and rubbing his face. “Elle?”

“Bedroom.” She called back. “Can I ask your opinion on something?”

Tom took the stairs two at a time to get up to her, when he made his way to her room, he audibly groaned. She was standing in just a pair of tight fitting jeans and a bra, her breasts teasing him in it. “What...” his voice squeaked high with the sight of her, so he cleared his throat. “What is it?”

“What should I wear? I mean, should I go for a blouse, a nice t-shirt, I mean, what do you wear when meeting your famous boyfriend’s famous friends?”

“Hey, Ben is as normal as you are.” Tom dismissed.

“I have met Ben, it’s his wife I am concerned about.”

“I am sure Sophie will like you whatever you’re wearing.” He wrapped his arms around her, looking down at her breasts, his tongue darting out for a moment to lick his lips.

“No, Tom.” Danielle pulled away.

“Elle…”

“No, I have had enough humiliation for one day, and we have to organise the spare room for Ben and Sophie, and…” Tom silenced her by kissing her.

“Darling, I have to go away for three weeks, I have not had you in a week, please, I know you want this as much as I do.” He argued against her lips, his hands going to her waist, his hips inadvertently pressing in against her for friction, his hard cock making itself known against her stomach. “If you don’t, say it now if you do, I am not going to be able to stop.”

“I…Tom.” She grabbed his ass as she loved to, and bit his lower lip, then pulled back slightly, gently pulling on it. “Don’t you need to get changed?”

“I was going to wear these.” He looked down. “Is it not okay?”

She looked him up and down. “The grey shoes, really?”

Tom looked down. “What, I like them?”

“And you know I would never try to tell you what to wear, but Tom, they don’t even match the outfit.” She scoffed. “I mean, you cannot wear, black, blue and grey, pick something in the same neighbourhood of colour.”

“You hate my shoes.” Tom looked at her.

“No.” she nodded slightly as she said the word, unable to keep his gaze.

Tom’s eyes widened, “You do,” he half chuckled, “You hate my shoes.”

“Hate is a strong world. I mildly dislike them.” She shrugged.

“I’m hurt…” he placed his hand over his heart and threw his head back dramatically. “Right here.” He tapped his hand twice over his chest. “Is there anything else you would have me not wear, I suppose you think I wear the gym gear too much too.”

“Actually I like your gym gear.” She stated honestly.

“So, what else?” he asked, arms folded.

“The Ralph Lauren jacket.”

“You said you like it, you lied to me.” He seemed genuinely hurt by that.

“No, I do, but you act as though you don’t have your other three summer jackets.” She argued. “I mean, I do like it, well, I liked it more before…”

“Before what?”

Danielle chewed her lip for a moment, “Before I smelled ‘Eau De Bitch’ on it.”

“Eau De…Oh, well, your grey summer jacket had Hugo Boss on it.” He playfully retorted back, seeing she was just trying to rise him.

“I know, so I got it dry cleaned.” She shrugged, smiling at how Tom’s face fell slightly. “Evanston had to put it in his locker one day at work because I forgot the key for mine and he fumigated it as a result.”

“Evanston?”

“Yeah, he is the stunt coordinator.”

“Is it not…”

“Nope.” She popped the ‘p’ playfully.

“Right, so it’s too cold for my Ralph Lauren jacket, and it needs cleaning.”

“And the shoes?”

“I like them.” He groaned childishly.

“I know, but they are ugly as fuck with that outfit, and in general.” She added the second part quietly.

“Fine, I’ll take them off so.” He untied one shoe, then the other, and kicked them off. “And this…” he proceeded to unbutton his trousers.

“I have no issue with ass hugging trousers.” She pointed out.

“And this.” He unbuttoned his shirt.

“Tom.” She warned. “Ben and Sophie will be here in minutes.”

“Thirty-Five, and since I am dressed like this, you cannot show me up by overdressing, so off these come.” He unbuttoned her black jeans.

“Tom!” She giggled as he pulled them down her legs and forced her to lift her feet one at a time off the ground to remove them.

“You are still more dressed than me.” He looked her up and down, his finger to his lip to make him appear pensive.

“We are both in out underwear.” She pointed out, laughing slightly.

“Yes, I have boxers, you are in a bra and panties, see, you are wearing more.”

“How can any man make the word ‘panties’ seem sexy?” she laughed, shaking her head.

Tom quirked a brow before leaning forward, “Panties.” He repeated, his voice deep, Danielle bit her lips together again, her pupils getting wider. “Darling, I am going to have to ravish you.”

“And why is that?” she asked curiously.

“Because you are incredibly sexy when you are all bashful and turned on.” He grinned wolfishly as he pulled her to the bed, lay down and pulled her onto him. “We have thirty minutes.”

“You seem to be making that seem like you are setting a challenge.” She laughed.

“It is, ‘how many times can I have you scream your brains out in half an hour’, and it’s a considerable challenge.”

“But your mum…”

“Doors are locked from the inside and keys in them, no unwanted visitors.” He kissed her. “And don’t mention my family right now, please.” Danielle laughed in return, kissing him back.

#I Hate You I Love You #chapter 37 #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fic

16 notes · View notes

isitgintimeyet · 6 years ago

Text

The Ties That Bind

AO3

Thanks to all of you for reading. Hope you enjoy this chapter - there’s a member of the Fraser clan that Claire has not yet met - time to rectify that.

Thanks to @mo-nighean-rouge for the beta.

Chapter 14 : A New Addition

“The baby is real pretty, dressed up in its nice little clothes. It has black eyes and the dearest, tiny hands.”

“I must go and see it. I just love babies,” said Anne, smiling to herself over a thought too dear and sacred to put into words.

- L. M. Montgomery, Anne’s House of Dreams

Jamie entered his living room, precariously balancing two mugs of tea, a packet of chocolate Hobnobs and two Kit Kats.

“Jamie, really, more? Are you not stuffed after that dinner we’ve just eaten? Mrs. Crook certainly believes in hearty portions.”

Claire snuggled into the end of the sofa as Jamie deposited his goodies on the coffee table and joined her. He stretched out along the length of the sofa and rested his head in her lap. He checked his mobile then reached for the remote control and switched the television on.

“Alright, so, Bread week.” Jamie said joyfully, as the opening credits for The Great British Bake Off started.

“I don’t get it.” Claire responded. “For someone who is not culinarily gifted, you do like to watch a lot of cookery programmes.”

“Weel, I suppose ‘tis the end product I’m interested in. But ye watch them too, Sassenach, and ye’re no’ talented in that department either. But hush, now, Signature Challenge and it’s teacakes.”

They sat and watched the television in silence, broken only by the occasional unwrapping of a biscuit.

“Dear God!” Jamie exclaimed during the Technical Challenge. “This is the filthiest thing on tv! Can ye hear him talking about making this loaf? Going on about making yer balls tight and driving yer finger through? And now she’s goin’ fer it too, asking if he flours his finger or oils it! Food porn, that’s what this is!”

Jamie reached for his phone again, checked the screen and placed it back on the arm of the sofa.

“Why do you keep looking at your phone?”

“Weel, mebbe I’m mitherin’ unnecessarily, but I texted Jenny nigh on four hours ago and I’ve no’ heard back. That isna like her. I reckon she’s havin’ the bairn. ‘Twas due three days ago.”

“If that was the case, wouldn’t you be asked to look after Jamie?”

“Nah, Ian’s parents have come down tae stay and take care o’ him. I couldna do it, if I was at work.”

“Well there’s nothing you can do, just relax and you’ll find out soon enough.”

Jamie tried his best to relax and think about other things. That proved to be surprisingly easy as, with his head still in her lap, Claire slowly ran her fingers through Jamie’s ginger curls. He moaned in pleasure as her fingers pressed against his scalp, finding and releasing points of tension.

Jamie shifted his head and reached his hands up to Claire’s face, bringing her lips down to his.

“Jamie,” Claire pulled away slightly. “Do you not want to watch the end of Bake Off?”

“Nah,” Jamie’s eyes never left her face. “I ken how it ends. Someone wins star baker, someone else is going home and someone else has made a bread sculpture that looks like a cock. It’s always the same.”

“But ye, Sassenach,” Jamie continued as he began to unbutton her shirt. “Ye are never the same. So, switch off that television, go upstairs and get in ma bed.”

“And if I don’t?” Claire challenged, teasingly.

“Ye’re no’ that heavy. Now if ye willna walk, I shall pick ye up and throw ye over my shoulder. D’ye want me tae do that?”

Claire ran her hands up his arms and across his shoulders, feeling his muscles flex under his shirt.

“Ooh, yes. Yes please.”

******

The red digits on the clock radio by the side of the bed flashed 11:30. They hadn’t drawn the curtains earlier when Jamie carried Claire into his bedroom, so the room was gently lit from the street.

To Claire, this room was the very essence of Jamie. The clean, strong lines of the furniture, primarily functional, were softened by the many family photos dotted around. A set of dumbbells lay in the corner of the room ready for Jamie’s morning routine. And the smell was an intoxicating mix of fresh fabric softener and cedar and sandalwood from his favourite Chanel cologne, cut through with a scent that was uniquely Jamie.

Claire snuggled closer into Jamie’s chest and inhaled deeply. Frank had always preferred sharp, citrus scents and, fastidious almost to the point of obsession, there was never any other male aroma. Even straight after lovemaking, Frank would head to the bathroom and emerge freshly scrubbed and antiseptic. Claire preferred to lie and cuddle… yet another example of her inadequacies.

She stretched her aching limbs. There was a whole range of facets to her and Jamie’s lovemaking, from the slow and languid - their every move seemingly in slow motion, every individual touch appreciated and savoured - to the hot and heavy, their bodies coming together frantically in desperate need, a race to reach their peaks together. Tonight had been more of the latter, with their orgasms coming quickly and in pretty close synchronisation. And now she felt relaxed, satisfied and content. She inhaled again, breathing in that particular eau de Jamie.

“Are ye sniffing me? Do I smell that bad? Should I go take a shower?”

Jamie lay on his back. Claire flung her leg across his abdomen, pinning him to the mattress.

“No, stay here a while, like this. You don’t smell bad, you just smell like you… and us… and sex.” Claire nibbled his earlobe.

Laughing, Jamie pulled her on top of him. “Well then, come here. Bite me some more.”

The ping of Jamie’s phone interrupted them. Claire rolled off as Jamie read the message.

“It’s from Ian. Jenny’s had the bairn. Born at 10:48 this evening,” he read to Claire. ”A little girl, Margaret Ellen, weight six pounds and five ounces. Normal delivery. Labour 5 hours. Everyone fine. Coming home tomorrow.”

Jamie sat up. “That’s great news. See, I knew something was amiss. Did I no’ tell ye? We can go and see her and the bairn tomorrow afternoon. Ye said ye’re no’ working.”

Claire followed suit and leant back against the headboard. “Really, tomorrow? You want me to invite myself round to your sister’s for the first time eighteen hours after she’s given birth?”

“Aye, weel, I’m goin’ round and I want ye tae come wi’ me. And like Ian said in the text, ‘twas a normal delivery and the labour was no’ too long, Jenny’ll be fine.”

“Be fine? And how many times have you given birth? I did a rotation in Obstetrics and let me tell you, there’s a reason it’s called labour. It’s bloody hard work, even with a normal delivery. Imagine trying to push a bowling ball out, while you’ve got food poisoning and you’re being kicked in the gonads every two minutes. No? Can’t imagine? Well that’s what I’ve heard it compared to.” Claire went into full doctor mode as Jamie’s face screwed up. “Not to mention any ripping or…”

“Enough, enough. I get it. How about a compromise? I text Ian in the morning and we’ll go round if he thinks Jenny feels up tae it?”

Claire nodded.

“Fine. Now, I believe ye were jes’ about tae bite me some more.” Jamie said as he pulled Claire down onto the pillows.

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

Ian opened the front door, a small child clamped tightly to his leg. “Come in. Welcome and ye must be Claire. We’ve heard a awfa lot about ye. And ye ken this wee chap, don’t ye?” Ian lifted the little boy into his arms. “Jamie, look who’s come tae see ye. Remember the doctor that fixed yer arm? She’s come tae see ye with Uncle Jamie. Are ye goin’ tae say hello?”

Wee Jamie held out his arms toward his uncle. Jamie grabbed him and pulled him close.

“‘Lo.” He greeted Claire with a sweet smile and wiggled his hands. “Look. All better now.”

Claire took his hand. “That’s really good. Hello Ian, pleased to meet you.”

Jamie moved into the hallway. “Are they in there?” He nodded in the direction of the living room.

His nephew pulled Jamie’s face close to his. “Ye’ve come fer see me, Unca.”

“Aye, we have, lad. But I jes’ need tae say hello tae yer mam. Manners, remember.”

As they walked into the room, Ian whispered to Claire. “There’s been a wee bit of jealousy this morning. Jamie’s no’ too good at sharing his mam. I’ll jes’ go and put the kettle on, shall I?”

Annoyingly, Claire had to agree that Jamie was right. Considering she had given birth less than twenty-four hours before, Jenny looked remarkably well, not to say blooming, with only the slightest grimace on her face as she shifted position. The baby was asleep in a Moses basket next to her chair.

Jamie leant over to kiss his sister. “Jenny, this is Claire.”

As Claire was about to extend her hand to shake, Jenny reached up and pulled Claire to her, kissing her warmly on the cheek. “Och, I’m that glad tae meet ye. Sae nice to put a face tae yer name. Jamie’s been bletherin’ on about ye for weeks.” She paused for a second. “Ye ken I mean my brother, no’ Wee Jamie.”

“Nah, dinna be tellin’ her that. She’ll be thinkin’ I’m a softie. Now, let me see my niece.”

Jenny gently lifted the sleeping baby out of the basket. Wee Jamie reluctantly allowed their uncle to set him down. Jamie sat next to Jenny and cradled the new addition to the family.

Wee Jamie scowled at this latest indication of treachery and moved over to Claire.

“We have a present for you, Jamie.” Claire said, rummaging in her bag.

“Fer me, no fer Maggie.”

“Weel,” his uncle joined in the conversation. “We have a wee present fer yer sister too. ‘Tis only fair now, is it no’?”

Jamie nodded reluctantly as he unwrapped the box Claire had given him. “Oh, oh, Spideyman blast ‘n’ go bike. ‘Sno fer babies, though.”

Claire handed another present to Jenny. “It’s Marks and Spencer. So if you don’t like it, you can return it. I’ve got the receipt.”

Jenny lifted up the pink gingham top with matching pink leggings. “Oh, it’s beautiful. Thank ye. Ye have verra good taste and no’ jes’ in men!”

Claire watched Jamie with his niece. She knew that for such a large man, he could be remarkably gentle but nevertheless, she still thrilled as he lightly cupped Maggie’s head and traced his finger along her cheek then pressed his lips to the soft, dark down on the top of her head. A warm feeling engulfed her. This could be them in a few years’ time.

Without a word, Jamie looked across at Claire and passed the baby over.

Ian came in with a tray laden with mugs of tea and biscuits and began to pass them around. He set a mug to one side for Claire.

Claire instinctively lowered her face to the baby, breathing in that essence of newborn baby. She looked up to see Jenny watching her, before exchanging glances with her brother and smiling in approval.

******

After visiting for an hour or so, Jamie could see that Jenny was starting to tire, so they made their goodbyes and promised to return a few days later.

As they buckled their seat belts in the car, Jamie turned to Claire and, with far too studied a casual air, enquired, “Do ye think ye would like children? At some point, I mean, no’ right now obviously?”

“Yes, not at this moment, but I would like a couple of children. How about you?”

“Same as ye, I think. Mebbe in a couple o’ years and mebbe three or four. I do like to think about that, doing things as a family, campin’, walkin’, playin’ games.”

“So that’s what the future holds for you, then, is it?”

Jamie reached over and entwined his fingers with Claire’s. “I like tae think that’s what the future holds fer us.”

#outlander fanfic #outlander fan fiction #the ties that bind #chapter 14 #Jamie Fraser #claire beauchamp #wee jamie too

62 notes · View notes

ill-skillsgard · 6 years ago

Text

Patterns in the Ivy, Part 8 - Bill Skarsgård

Title: Patterns in the Ivy

Description: A continuation of Smoke & Money. Ghosts from the not-so-distant past come back to threaten her. She must choose between a lavish life of servitude or have everything she ever loved stripped away.

Warning: 18+ smut/swearing/mentions of drugs/kink & fetish themes

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

It didn't take long to the transition from our tiny little home out East to Bill's estate, in fact, it felt strangely seamless, especially for Ivany. Not only that but Bill was good at painting himself as a picture of the perfect father and lover. It was like he was born to raise Ivany and I had but to stand back to appreciate how beautifully and completely they fell in love with each other. He fulfilled every little promise he made to her and she, in turn, became more of a delight to be around than she already was. The both of them together was enough to reduce me to tears on some days. The way he looked at her was pure and unwavering, a savior dressed in Gucci who had come to enrich our lives with his love and money. He started by buying her a horse- a white mare named Winterwind, just like what she had asked for, with black marbles for eyes, soft silvery hair and a very calm demeanor according to what the breeder told us. Winterwind was a perfect match for Ivany even though she was still too small to ride by herself. Bill made sure to hire the best hostler to care for her and a riding instructor that came every Wednesday to teach Ivany. It didn't stop there. Bill had her room completely remodeled to suit her. She chose a pastel purple colour scheme, matching drapes to hang from the massive windows and violet carpeting. The walk in closet was gutted and restructured so Ivany could reach all of her new clothes and shoes. Her en-suite bathroom was redone in powder pink with a lowered sink and a massive scallop shell mirror with a real abalone border framing it. Every little inch and detail was tailored to her. Bill even had a dollhouse made for her that took up six square feet that she could practically stand in. We chose paintings of unicorns and mermaids to hang up on the walls. It was a royal underwater room for his little princess complete with a coral light fixture, bubbles painted on the ceiling and swaths of turquoise tulle wrapped around the posters of her bed. When I first saw it I was speechless. He really went all out, sparing no expense so that by the time he brought her to the entrance with his hands over her eyes, she was giddy with excitement, jumping up and down and when he took his hands away she screamed at the top of her lungs. He stood at the door and watched her bounce around the room, talking at us and looking at everything with the most genuine sense of joy that I had ever seen. Ivany had to touch everything but nothing held her attention as long as the dollhouse did. She clung to his leg and told him just how much she loved everything and he replied with, "I love you, princess. I hope you like it." When he noticed I hadn't said anything and had been standing by with my hand over my mouth he took me by the wrist and shook me out of my trance. "What do you think?" He asked. I fluttered my eyes in disbelief. "What do I think? I think it's insane. It's amazing!" Pulling me close to him, he wrapped his arm around my hips and pressed a kiss behind my ear, nuzzling his nose into my hair, inhaling and sighing softly. He had an easy look of satisfaction on his face accompanied by a smirk. When he had ripped my attention away for a moment he kissed me as if to say I told you so. It wasn't only Ivany who received the rewards of his attentions either. He had made sure that I was well taken care of, which in his eyes, meant that I needed a completely new wardrobe and a massive vanity table to house all of my make up and expensive perfume. It was a vast white table with an arcing mirror, gold-brushed handles adorning each drawer and a matching bench for me to sit on in my sheer dressing gown while I got ready. Bill had taken a liking to watching me sit at that vanity table. If I was in my room getting ready or fresh from the shower he would stand at the doorway sometimes with his arms crossed and watch me as I massaged lotion into my skin or applied lipstick in the mirror. Even when he wasn't home to see me I liked to put on the fine undergarments he had chosen and sit on the bench, pretending like he was watching me drip honey and rose eau de toilette on my wrists. The Summer came in full bloom and we spent most mornings together on the red jarrahwood veranda. Beyond the platform that we lounged on eating our breakfast, the grass sprawled for acres to accompany the stable and a fenced in plot for horses to run in. Further than that, there were trees and a guest house that was bigger than any house I had ever lived in. It was surreal sitting out in the sun with my sunglasses on, looking out onto all of Bill's property, his car garage, pool and cabana and unused tennis court. It was really all too much to take in sometimes. One early evening, Ivany's riding instructor came and took her to the stable to spend time with Winterwind and Bill and I stood at the fence watching them. He was wearing a light leather jacket over a light blue button up shirt and dark washed jeans that ended just above a pair of black boots. I looked at him and thought to myself that I had hardly ever seen him wear something so casual. I wanted to view him as a regular person but it was hard when he was always decked in his suits with his hair perfectly styled in that I-didn't-try-to-look-like-this way. When I watched him watching her, I got up the courage to strike a conversation with him. We had been living with Bill for nearly a month at that time and him and I had hardly spent any time talking. Bill did leave almost every day for work and when he returned in the evening we had enough time to spend with Ivany before her bedtime and almost as soon as she was down, he wanted me. After he was sure Ivany had fallen asleep, Bill would light a cigarette, smoke it to the filter and once that was done he would have a drink. It was almost like a ritual and as soon as the last drop hit his tongue, he would be ready for me. His sexual appetite was insatiable and every night I found myself in the master bedroom with no opportunity to speak much besides to answer all of his filthy little questions. "How was work today?" I asked him. He gave me a side-swiping look as though I had just pinched him. I had never bothered probing him for answers much but I felt like our new life together warranted at least a little bit of information from time to time. After all, he was my partner and the father of my child. It wasn't a sense of entitlement, more an urge to know what was going on inside of his head since he only liked to divulge things that he deemed necessary and what fell underneath that definition to him was still unknown to me. "It was fine." He replied. "What did you do today?" "Meetings." I caught the sense that he was getting uncomfortable answering my questions and it didn't settle quite right with me. I wanted to know why he had such a problem with me knowing anything about him besides what he liked to eat, what he wore and what made him hard. "Is that all you do is have meetings?" "Yes." I sighed and turned to lean my back up against the wood fence. He eyed me again but didn't turn his face away from Ivany and Winterwind. "Are you ever going to talk to me about anything?" "We're talking right now, aren't we?" I knew if I tread too hard on him it would make him upset. I had to choose my questions wisely to avoid tipping his scale. It seemed almost anything could set him off into a bad mood and then I would receive the ass end of it in the bedroom. It was just another thing about him that was unsettling. He had to use sex to express himself and sometimes it left me with colourful reminders that I wished he could just form into words instead. Not that I didn't enjoy his punishments, it was only that his being secretive was quickly growing old. "Look, I know you like your privacy but... We live together. I'm not going to pretend I'm not curious about what goes on in your life. We live in our own small country practically and people come and go to make our food and clean the house. You do realize how foreign this all is to me, right?" "I don't blame you for having questions but I've already told you. I own hotels and make shit-loads of money because of it. I sign papers and go to meetings and then I come home and all I want is to spend time with you and her. There's nothing glamorous about my job. The most exciting parts of my days are getting to see her." His dismissive tone was heavy enough for me to understand that if I pried anymore he wouldn't be happy about it. I offered nothing back but my silence punctuated with a sigh here and there. Ivany came around seated on Winterwind, her instructor reigning her up so they could stop near us. Bill's demeanor changed immediately as he waved to Ivany. "Hi, Daddy!" She cried out, cheeks pink with excitement. "Hello princess! Have you had enough riding for one day?" He called out to her. "Nope!" The riding instructor was a stoic woman with braided brown hair who seemed to only have a soft bone in her body for horses and for Ivany. She hardly ever addressed me and made minimal exchange with Bill but I did see her talking quietly to Ivany any time they had their lessons. The woman seemed dedicated, proud and maybe a tiny percent resentful of us as parents for having purchased such an extravagant animal for a four-year-old child. Nevertheless, she came and went each Wednesday with hardly a complaint. That night after Ivany went to sleep, Bill didn't bother with his usual routine. He did smoke a cigarette and had a drink but instead of dressing the night all up like he normally did, he simply encircled me in his arms and asked me to come to bed with him even though it was only just passed eight o'clock. There seemed to be something floating around inside his head that was bothering him so I didn't press anything further, I just got into bed with him after getting undressed and let him do what he wanted. He trailed his fingers up and down my spine as we laid under the duvet, skin touching and limbs entangled. He kissed me slowly, scooping up a handful of my left breast and kneading it in his palm. When he was satisfied with that he rolled me over so I was facing away from him but pulled me in close to his chest, letting his hand fall down my thigh to my knee. He raised my leg up and that was when he pressed his hardness up against my ass. He let out the slightest of whimpers as he entered me from behind and I replied with a quiet moan. It was all so very drawn out and sweet and when he started rocking his hips into mine to get in deeper, his body relaxed into the motion. "Oh..." He groaned. "I love you." His arms wrapped around me and his lips kissed up and down the curve of my neck and my shoulder. I writhed back onto him, enjoying the feeling of how slowly he pushed in and out of me and the softness in his voice. "I love you, baby." He whispered again. "Do you love me?" "Yes. Yes, I love you." "How much?" He asked as he tantalizingly pulled his cock out of me. His hand reached down to angle himself back up against my opening, awaiting my answer before making any other movement. "I... I adore you. I love you more than anything. Oh-" He plunged back in as I told him that and purred against the back of my neck. "I love you. I love your pussy. I love how you get so wet for me. I love putting my cock in you every single night." "Yeah?" "Yeah... You know what else I love?" He asked. "What?" He reached under my raised leg and circled my clit with the pads of two fingers. I moaned under the sensation and when he kept going I felt my body coming alive. He licked and nibbled on my neck, moaning as well. "I love making you come." "I love making you come, Daddy." The pattern of him massaging me, penetrating me, kissing me and whispering in my ear was a quickfire way to get me to the edge. He knew it, too. There was no speed to be picked up, only the deliberately slow actions that looked a little more like love-making rather than our usual rigorous fuck sessions. It was a nice change of pace and I felt my hairs stand up on end as he breathed close to my ear, low panting only interrupted by his mouthwatering praises. Sometimes, Bill just worshiped my pussy instead of using it and those were the nights I fell deeper and deeper in love with him. Those were the nights I told myself that I didn't care he was so furtive and withdrawn. He was my King and if I could have him all to myself for the rest of time I knew I could die happy. "Come with me, baby. I want to feel that pussy tighten around me." I hooked my leg over his to pull him in a little harder and he took that as a sign to haul me on top of him completely so that he could use both of his legs to buck up into me while his fingers continued toying with my clit. I laid on top him, my back to his chest, knees bent, spread and eyes closed, zeroing in on the pleasure he bestowed with his long fingers. The added penetration mixed so well that I knew it was entirely possible he would have me coming in seconds as long as he kept doing exactly that. "Come for me. Come for me. Come all over your Daddy's cock. I want you to." "Mm, yes, Daddy. Yes-" "Come. Right now. Come for me." I didn't know whether his power over me should have been frightening or not. When I finally tensed up to orgasm, Bill pounded into me until he started to lock up as well. Our tandem climax hit hard and as much as I moaned over feeling him pump me full of cum, he moaned even harder, luxuriating in another beautifully orchestrated mess that would dry up by morning. That's what life was like with Bill. He would wake up before me to have a shower and get dressed then come back into the room to wake me up so I could have a shower as well. While I was getting cleaned up from the nights we spent making each other come, he would wake Ivany and get her ready for the day as well. We would convene on the main floor and eat breakfast together and he would kiss us both goodbye before leaving for work in his ebony Lincoln or his gunmetal BMW or his jet black Mercedes. When it was just Ivany and I, we spent the hours doing whatever she wanted which usually meant going outside to see Winterwind, playing hide and seek on the grounds or dressing up and having royal tea parties in her bedroom. A team of maids came every day to spruce up the house, though most of the rooms were completely unused. They didn't speak much English and I hardly ever crossed paths with them as Ivany and I were usually enjoying the Summer weather or in town having lunch and shopping around. By the time we went back inside they were usually gone or just finishing up. There were about five of them, sometimes six and three handled the kitchen and dining room and the others went upstairs to change bed sheets, vacuum carpets, clean bathrooms and windows and dust any surface within reach. One day, Ivany didn't feel well and asked if she could just stay in her room with an iPad, some blankets and her favourite dolls. I felt so sorry for her after she threw up her breakfast that I arranged her comfortably in her bed, set up a movie on the tablet and tucked her bunny rabbit in beside her. She asked for me to stay and watch the movie with her and I did gladly, until we both dozed off. I caught myself flitting in and out of sleep before long and shook my head to keep myself from drifting off entirely. Ivany was passed out, mouth open, the movie only half way through so I turned it off and quietly left the room so she could get some rest. I found myself unbelievably bored soon after shutting Ivany's bedroom door. The din of the house was strong and it was the first time that I had found myself wandering around by myself. I was drawn in further after the maids had come and gone. I had seen the inside of Bill's master bedroom enough to know that he had a massive walk-in closet and an en-suite bathroom bigger than most people's apartments. It was no adventure exploring his room because I had spent most of my time in it anyway, but once I started further down the hall, my curiosity was purchased. There were so many doors that I had never opened before. One by one I tried the handles, finding that most of them were locked. The rooms that were unlocked were only bedrooms, staged very similarly to the ones that Bill had given to me and Ivany but not so luxurious. I mean, they were still beyond lavish but by the standards I was used to seeing in Bill's estates, they weren't as extravagant. I counted about five other bedrooms on that floor and the further into the East Wing I went the emptier the rooms got. The few doors that I could not get into were smaller doors. I noticed they had less of an antiquated look to them and appeared to have been updated and fitted with brass knobs that unlocked with a key. The wood, I remarked, wasn't as heavy as any of the other doors either which only confirmed my suspicion that they were much newer. Once I was satisfied with what I was able to see upstairs I made my way to the main floor, into the foyer that split off three ways; the staircase going upstairs, the passage way to the dining room, kitchen and back doors and then there was a pair of doors that opened up into what appeared to be a library by first glance. There was a grand fire place with a marble mantle surrounded by legions of shelves stuffed tight with all manner of books old and new. In the center of the room there was a hand-carved pool table with sapphire blue baize and four lions each representing a leg of the table. The wood had been polished and lacquered so finely I could see my own reflection in it. I couldn't help but wonder what Bill did in his spare time, what he did to fill his nights before Ivany and I came to stay with him. As I circled the pool table I envisioned him leaning over it, pool cue almost as long as he was in his hands, poised to snipe a billiard ball into one of the suede pockets. Did he like to read the books, or were they only for show? I approached the fireplace and stared into it to see if I could tell when it was used last but it was as clean as anything else in the house. There were plenty of books to choose from so I ascended the sliding ladder to pick one that caught my interest. With nothing much else for me to do and the realization that I could feel bored in such a place, I began to feel disheartened. I had nobody to talk to and nowhere to go, so I settled for reading out on the veranda in the bright sunshine. It had been far too long since I had picked up a book. Bill came home a couple hours earlier than he normally did and brought with him a stack of papers. When he found me I had just settled back into a lounge chair on the deck after having checked on Ivany to see if she needed anything. He cast his glance around, trying to locate his daughter before he realized she wasn't with me. "Where is Ivany?" He asked. "She's in her room. She hasn't been feeling well at all today." Bill's eyes only widened a little bit but I could still see the concern filtering through. "Oh... Is she alright?" "She will be. She has a bit of a fever and upset stomach." "Does she need a doctor?" "No. She's going to be fine." "Are you sure?" I cocked my head at him and tried not to downplay his paternal instincts but I did find it cute that he had never dealt with a sick child before. With a slight grin I replied, "Bill... She's going to be alright. Kids get sick sometimes. Why don't you go check on her? I'm sure seeing you will make her feel a lot better." He glanced down at the papers he had in his hand. "I will, but first I need you to sign some things." There were small red tabs stuck to some of the sheets to indicate which lines I was to sign my name on but when I looked up at Bill he knew that I wouldn't blindly sign anything without an explanation first. "These are for Ivany's name change. You can look over them if you want to." Bill handed the stack to me and pulled a gold-plated pen out from one of the pockets in his suit jacket. I looked up at him as I took the pen, feeling his green eyes burning into me with an urgency. Wordlessly, I scanned the first page which had already been filled out. Ivany's full name, her age, birthday, place of birth, my birth place, my age, my name, our former address. It was all there already scrawled in black ink and when I looked up at him again I couldn't help but feel a little insulted that he had gone ahead without telling me. "Are you sure this is all right? I don't mean to sound rude but... you weren't there for most of her life. Are you sure all of this information is correct?" "I'm positive it's all correct but like I said, feel free to go over it, if you please." Bill noticed my hesitation after I scanned over a few more pages, skipping the tabs where I was supposed to sign. It wasn't that I didn't want Ivany to be a Skarsgård, it was just that I hadn't taken any time to mull it over in my head. Now that the documents were in front of me I had an odd taste on the back of my tongue. "J... What's the problem?" I rested the ball of the pen on the first line requiring my signature. "I don't know. It's just... Strange." "She's a Skarsgård in all ways but in name. What does it matter whose last name she has?" "Well, it obviously matters to you." "It does matter to me. Do you realize the opportunity she will have in the future? She's an heiress, J, and so are you." There was no way for me to describe to him the way I was feeling without coming off as selfish. What I wanted to say to him was that she was mine and had been for her entire life and that he should have consulted me before going through with the paperwork. I feared that once I signed those papers and Ivany's name reflected her Swedish half, Bill would have all of the leverage if things between us were to ever go awry. "I just want what's mine. Don't you miss being mine?" His words echoed in my memory. I remembered his threats when he had come to find me at first, before he had ever met Ivany. "Try to run and I will rain Hellfire down on you." I signed the pages. There was a nagging in the back of my head telling me that I was making a mistake but I chose to ignore it. My instincts weren't always reliable anyway and when I scrawled my signature by each red tab, Bill relaxed a little bit more. After all, I was content and Ivany had never seemed more happy. Bill had made good on his promises and when I looked up at him he gave me that smile that shone down on me warmer than the Sun ever could. The way his dimples flashed made me shiver in my chair and the kiss he gave me after accepting the papers back was laced with desire and a thankfulness that I knew he would rather show than say. "Thank you, my love." "You're welcome." "We will have to discuss her school enrollment very soon." I looked out over the terrace and sighed. "I suppose you're right. Summer is half over." "I have already looked into schools for her. There aren't many around here but there are a couple upstate that seem promising but what I would really like is for her to go to school in Sweden. Perhaps the same school I went to-" "Sweden?" I interrupted. "Yes. The education system is much better. I don't quite a agree with how children are taught in North American schools. There is a major lack of intimacy between teacher and student. It's almost like factory farms for children over here." "You want to move to Sweden?" "Of course not. I wouldn't be able to run business so soon." "Then how would she go to school there?" Bill cocked his head at me. "We would fly her there, of course." I stumbled over my speech a little before righting myself, spine straightening in my seat. "Do you mean we would send her away to school?" "Yes, it's a boarding school. I went there as a child. It's a fantastic school. Very prestigious and highly revered." "We are not sending Ivany away." Bill crossed his arms behind his back. "She needs to be educated properly." "She can be educated here." "I don't think you understand the level of honor it is to attend that school." "I don't really care. I don't want to send my daughter away, Bill! Jesus! I know you're her Father but you can't just make these decisions without me!" "No decisions have been made, so just calm down. There are plenty of schools to look into." I breathed in heavily through my nostrils. "Okay, but just... Don't freak me out like that." "There's nothing to be freaked out about. Ivany is going to the best school we can put her in. That should make you happy." "I am happy, trust me. I'm more than happy. I just cannot fathom sending her away. I can't." Bill set the papers down on the glass side table beside my chair and placed his hands on either of my shoulders. Squeezing me gently, he leaned down and kissed me on the cheek. "Don't worry," He chuckled, kissing my temple as he massaged my tense shoulders. "It was only a suggestion. You get fired up so quickly." "I'm sorry." "Don't be sorry." "But I am." "Oh, my love. What ever will I do with you?" I raised my face to receive another kiss from him. "I can think of a couple things." Bill bit his bottom lip as he stood up and grabbed the stack of papers from the side table again. "Well... Later on... I would like to see you in that new set I bought for you last week. The red one." "If you desire." "I do desire. I desire very much. Now, give Daddy another kiss. I'm going to go check on our sick little angel." His lips graced me with another slow, languid kiss. When he stood up I felt a burn lingering on my skin and as he left me to my book, I smiled.

#bill skarsgård fanfiction #bill skarsgard fanfiction #bill skarsgård smut #bill skarsgard smut #fanfiction

64 notes · View notes