#i was just saying to jes yesterday that i’m ready to move on from this ship but i guess i LIED

[ferryboatpeak]

[lire-casander]

wip wednesday

for wip wednesday, i'm bringing you the rewriting of a part of the @911lsbb fic that i've been working on. yesterday was a very tough day for me, writing-wise, and i want to thank @noxsoulmate @doublel27 @tarlos-spain and @moviegeek03 for their hand-holding and the patience they showed me yesterday, and @alidravana and @breannacasey for their input and their love. you guys are the best, and are also responsible for me writing this monster.

anyway, after this looooong introduction, i am ready to share a big chunk of what i rewrote yesterday. i hope you guys like it.

TK sighs into the mic before muttering, “I’m done with this bullshit.” He surprises everyone, Carlos included, by dropping the microphone and rushing out of the stage. There's a collective groan as he disappears through one of the sides, the reverberation of the cacophony created by the microphone crashing onto the floor following him.

Carlos blinks.

He isn't sure about what has just happened. It's true that he hasn't attended a massive show since before moving to New York City — and just thinking about how long that's been makes him feel old — but he's pretty positive that shows don't abruptly end with one of the singers fleeing the place.

"Papi," Leyre says, tugging at his sleeve. "Is the show over?"

Carlos frowns. "It may seem so, but a show isn't over until all the lights are back on."

As if on cue, the venue — that had been dimly lit for the duration of the show — lights up in bursts of colors, almost blinding them all. The groan from before turns into a booing session, the whole of the crowd showing their discomfort at how the sudden end of the show is being handled; nobody steps forward to explain, leaving it to the robotic voice over the speakers to repeat rhythmically that the exits are at both sides of the venue.

"What a bummer," Mateo mutters under his breath. "This shouldn't have ended like this. We've been robbed of the wedding."

"Not sure there would have been a wedding, after that video leak," Tommy says, waving her phone. Carlos catches the image frozen on the screen, a blurry screenshot of two people kissing. "Alex is a je—not a good person."

"We're big girls, Mom," Evie says. "You can say he's a jerk."

"No wonder they end up at the principal’s several times a semester," Nancy teases them. "But you're right. Cheating is a horrible thing to do to anyone."

"Agreed," Carlos mumbles. The memory of finding out the secret lover Dan had been keeping from him for months still stings, five years down the line. "What do you say, we go grab some ice cream?" he offers as they step out into the street. "To make up for the lack of wedding."

The girls squeal, delighted, and Mateo whoops. Carlos chuckles when Tommy throws a pointed look at him and Nancy simply leads the way to her favorite ice cream parlor, which also happens to be a couple of blocks away.

"Underneath this hard Daddy exterior there's a big soft teddy bear," Tommy says as she falls into step with him.

"Shhh," he stage-whispers. "It's my secret power."

"My lips are sealed," she says, playfully shoving his shoulder as they follow Nancy.

[migilini]

Roadtrip - Charlie Gillespie

a/n: just a daydream I had when I saw this GIF. It’s not proofread. I’m open to requests.

Words: 2k

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You and Charlie were on a road trip from LA to Oklahoma and last to Chigaco. Your boyfriend had to move there due to the fact that he got cast in a movie and you were fortunate enough to move with him, being able to work from home. It wasn't your idea to drive all those miles via car, but Charlie doesn't like flying so he avoided it at all cost and because you love him, you accompanied him for those dreadful hours.

It was way too early for your liking, of course Charlie knew that and put up with your grumpy, nontalkative mood, simply shoving a large cup of coffee into your hands. “Ma cœur, how much longer until you're more awake to talk to me?” Charlie asked after a while, as he glanced over to you on the passenger side, his free hand tracing little hearts on your thigh. You yawned and took a sip of the now lukewarm coffee. “About this much.” You measured the amount still in the cup, making him chuckle.

You and Charlie have been dating for nearly one and a half years now, however it feels like it's been much longer. From the start, the two of you were attached at the hip, instantly comfortable around each other. Everybody said that you two moved too fast because you moved in with each other after only three months of dating, but because of Covid you didn't want to risk being apart. Even though objectively speaking, you and Charlie were not the same, you were more daydreaming than actually paying attention and you didn't need the adrenaline in your life, you completed him in a magical way.

Right now you two were two hours in, the coffee was empty and you ass already sore from all the sitting. It was something you always despided about yourself, you could spend all day laying in bed, but you couldn't sit still, changing position every now and then. Tapping your foot to the beat of the song streaming from the radio. Charlie calmly hummed along to the song, his fingers also tapping along. You looked over at him and couldn't love him more.

“Are you excited to see Owen and Jer?” You asked him, breaking the silence. A breathtaking smile overtook his face “You know it! How about you?” You nodded, also excited to see the boys again. “Mhm. I missed them a lot.” The song on the radio changed and you huffed in annoyance, you hated that song. Sensing that, Charlie took out his phone and connected it to the car.

“Charlie! Don't drive and be on your phone!” You snapped it out of his hand, giving him a displeased look. Scrolling through Spotify you eventually choose a song to your liking. 18 by OneDirection blared through the speakers, while you put the volume higher you turned in your seat. “I have loved you since we were 18. Well technically 20 but that's a detail.” You whispered the last part. He scrunched his nose in amusement, a quirk you loved dearly.

The two of you screamed lyrics at the top of your lungs, the car driving on an empty highway. The rest of the world fading away, leaving the two of you in a cozy little bubble of your own. The day continued just like that, the two of you singing to songs and just enjoying the company. You loved seeing him drive, something about it was just so attractive to you, maybe it was the way his arms flexed when he moved the wheel, or the fact that you yourself were unable to drive. Even with your 21 years of life, you refused to sit behind the steering wheel and Charlie had tried several times, it always ended with you in tears.

“Do you want to stop somewhere to sleep? It's getting kinda late and you have been driving the whole day.” you questioned, looking at the horizon as the last beams of yellow and red vanished slowly. “Yes please. Can you search for a hotel around here?” Nodding, you took his phone and went onto google maps.

“There's one about two hours away in New Mexico. Reviews look good and the price isn't too high. Sadly no breakfast included, so we're gonna get you something on the road, not gonna let you starve, otherwise I will be stranded here.” He gave your thigh a playful slap and a squeeze “Yeah, yeah love you too, Char. I will look it up… Ah perfect! There's a Dunkin Donuts five miles from the hotel. Does that sound good babe?” He hummed in approval.

“Ah a man of words!” he took one of your hands and gave it a light kiss. “You know me. I always wanted to be a Mime.” he joked.

Before you knew it, the car came to a stop in the pitch black. Only a little yellow neon sign lighting up the hotel parking spot.

“This looks like this one Teen Wolf episode…” you murmured, not feeling the best about this place. “You’re just saying that because you're scared of the dark ma cœur. I'm here to protect you. No Monsters are harming you tonight.” he teased, getting out of the car. In typical Charlie fashion, he walked around the car and opened your door and held out a hand for you, immediately intertwining your fingers. 

You smiled up at him, squeezing his hand. “Ha ha…”

The two of you were happy to finally walk off the stiffness of your legs, as you walked over to the reception. 

“Hello. We would have a room please.”

The receptionist was in his late 30s, his greying hair falling messily in his eyes and a big smile sat on his thin lips. “No Problem. Is a king bed alright with the two of you?” he didn't want to assume anything. You and Charlie chuckled, nodding slightly “Preferred actually.”

Five minutes later, you waited in the room 345 while Charlie insisted on getting your bags. Stretching, you tried to get rid of the soreness in your back, your eyes nearly falling shut.

Charlie opened the doors, giving you a tired smile. “Let's get to bed. Tomorrow we rise early!” you groaned, making him chuckle. Standing up, you walked over to him, your arms wrapping around his familiar frame. He was stroking your head, giving it a kiss before walking into the bathroom to brush his teeth. 

In the meanwhile you changed your clothes, changing from some jeans and one of his hoodies to sweatpants and an oversized shirt. 

You gave him a hasty kiss as he came out of the bathroom, smelling the mint of the toothpaste still lingering on his lips. After you washed your face and brushed your teeth, you let yourself fall into the bed. His arms sneaking around your waist, pulling you closer into him. 

“Thank you.” Turning around to face him, you traced his features with your fingertips “For what?”

“Coming on this drive with me. You could have easily convinced me to fly, you know.”

“I know mon amour.” you said, looking into his eyes, as you tried your best to keep yours open. You left several kisses on his bare shoulders until your lips met his. He smiled into the kiss and then nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, pecking it several times before stopping.

“Good night. I love you.”

“Good night babe. Love you more.”

The next morning came way too fast and you didn't want to move out of his comfortable and safe arms into the cold car, but you had to. The sunrise hadn't even begun, the sky still a dark blue, when the two of you drove into the Dunkin drive through, to get you a coffee and a donut. You had to have something sweet in the mornings.

“Actually, I saw a little restaurant on the way here that should have takeaway, do you mind if we take a quick stop?” you shook your head, trying hard not to fall asleep again. An idea ignited in your head and you sat up straighter. “What if we go live while you drive? Maybe I'll be more awake or I'll have stuff to read.” you requested, looking at your boyfriend with a slight pout.

“Sure thing. I'll bet they'll love it.” Smiling, you grabbed his phone from his hand and went into Instagram.

“Hey Char and y/n here.” you introduced while trying to balance the phone on the dashboard “Its freaking early and I’m nearly falling asleep so I thought you guys could entertain me a bit. Mister Gillespie over here isn't as interesting as you guys.” he pouted into the camera, you leaned forward quickly and gave him a kiss on the cheek. The chat was already flooding with hey’s and questions about your relationship and where you were going.

“Is it true that you sometimes talk french to Charlie?” you read from the chat, your eyes widening a little in surprise. 

“Sometimes. I mean my french isn't the best but growing up in Europe, I picked up some stuff.”

“She’s just being humble, she understands a lot and her accent is hella cute.” Charlie piped in, pulling into the drive through he mentioned earlier. “Je vois que tu comprends." He said to you, a slight smile playing on his lips. You got lost in his eyes for a second before responding. “Of course I understand babe!” he grabbed your hand and kissed it softly while chuckling. 

“OMG that was just so cute!” you read out loud from the chat. Blushing slightly, you giggled, “He loves to do stuff like that when he’s driving. Always showing affection in one way or the other.”

“Uhm next question...What are you two doing so early? Someone asks.” with an raised eyebrow you look over to your boyfriend “I think you can answer this.” you turned the camera a bit so he was more in frame. “We're going to Chicoago, Chigacoooo.” he quoted the iconic Victorious scene, his eyes scanning the road before him.

He got himself a cheese thing of some sort, you couldn't quite make out what it was and parked on the side of the road, getting his food ready in front of him.

He bit into his cheese thing while you sipped on your coffee conversing with the chat. Just earlier you had begged for music suggestions, telling them to send their best road trip songs. Charlie looked really good right now, his hair was pulled together in a bun and he was wearing a blue shirt. You on the other hand had your hair in a top bun and the same hoodie from yesterday, a wool blanket draped over your shoulders. You just wanted to ask if you could have a bite, when he got cheese all over his chin. 

He laughed as he looked over to you. Before you knew what you were doing, you leaned forward in your seat. Your face mere inches away from his, you could feel his breath on your face. You stuck out your tongue and licked the cheese away, your eyes never leaving his. 

Without giving it a second thought, you settled back into a comfortable position and took a sip from your coffee with a prominent smirk on your face. Leaving a dumbfounded Charlie and a screaming chat.

Not even an hour later the clip of you licking his chin, in maybe a bit of a too sexual way, went viral in the community.

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Pairings: None

Word Count: 1,958 Words

Summary: Midoriya’s store run, Todoroki kills everyone with laughter, and girl day has been moved to Bakugou’s room, and Shigaraki and Dabi have a talk.

Warnings: Food Mention, Death Mention, Caps, Child Abuse Mention, Cursing, Period Mention, Menstruation Mention, Murder Mention, Grooming Mention, Burn Mention, let me know if I should tag anything else.

Notes: Shigaraki's alias in the group chat is Ren, Dabi's alias is Haruhi, and Hime is Toga's alias.

Usernames: Area 51   Aoyama: bonjour je suis Dora, Ashido: aggressive chicken dance, Asui: wut, Iida: Human Porche, Uraraka: Fuck Gravity, Ojiro: ceouolo, Kaminari: pikachoo, Kirishima: ordained, Koda: the muffin man?, Sato: dammit kevin, Shoji: pIaNoMaN, Jirou: neko neko kneecaps, Sero: wine and cheerios, Tokoyami: brb drowning, Todoroki: daddy issues, Hagakure: oreosandpussy, Bakugo: mother i crave violence, Midoriya: mistakes were made Mineta: Mineta, Shinsou: its a mental breakdown, Yaoyorozu: single braincell

Usernames: Emo Sanctuary  Jirou: tell tale heart, Tokoyami: eldritch peep, Todoroki: i love you 3000, Bakugou: knife tag, Midoriya: bitchasaurus, Shinsou: unhappy meal, Kuroiro: meth and deadamine, Shigaraki: depresso extra shot, Dabi: *sad kazoo*

Into The Group Chat We Go: Chapter 2

10:00 AM

Area 51

Midoriya: I'm heading to the store and then to my apartment for the weekend, so if anyone needs anything while I'm out, tell me now.

mother i crave violence: Pickled daikon, seaweed chips, pea sprouts, spinach, enoki, and sausages.

Midoriya: Ew.

Midoriya: Fine.

mother i crave violence: Breathe one word of what you know and you're dead meat, Deku.

Midoriya: Not very nice to say to someone buying you food, now, is it?

mother i crave violence: Sorry, Deku.

Midoriya: Now send me the whole list. I know you don't buy six things and call it a day.

mother i crave violence: Also chapaghetti, eggs, and probably tofu.

mother i crave violence: And coffee pudding.

Midoriya: And?

mother i crave violence: Aloe yoghurt and ham.

Midoriya: Got it.

mother i crave violence: I hate you.

Midoriya: Yeah, yeah. I'll say hi to Hotaru and Hikaru for you on my way home.

Hagakure: Who's that?

Midoriya: NOTHING.

Midoriya has deleted one message

Midoriya: See? nothing.

Hagakure: Suspicious.

mother i crave violence: I'm not even going to deal with this. I'm too busy crying.

Midoriya: Overdramatic much?

mother i crave violence: I'm not, I'm dying. I deserve to cry if I'm dying.

Midoriya: Drama queen.

mother i crave violence: Stop arguing, I'm hungry.

Midoriya: Fine, fine.

Iida: What are you two on about now?

Midoriya: Kacchan needs some groceries that I offered to grab for him on my way out.

Todoroki: I'll go with you. I have to grab a few things for my dinner. I'll bring everything back to the dorms so you can head straight home.

Midoriya: Cool. @its a mental breakdown, do you need anything? I know you said something about needing to grab groceries to other day. I won't have you surviving off rice.

its a mental breakdown: My guy, it's 10:10 in the morning. Why are you waking me up so early on the weekend?

Midoriya: Groceries. Fork over the list, my guy.

its a mental breakdown: grocery.link

Midoriya: Looks good. Anyone else need food?

aggressive chicken dance: I forgot to pick up rice yesterday. I can't make my green curry without rice.

its a mental breakdown: I have a big container of rice you can steal from, Mina. Remember, the rice container that's as tall as a toddler?

aggressive chicken dance: Hells yeah. I'll hit you up at like 6pm. Raincheck on the rice, Midoriya.

Midoriya: 👍

Hagakure: Why do you have so much rice, Shinsou?

its a mental breakdown: it used to be the only thing I was allowed to eat at the orphanage because they could get a 4 pound bag and feed me for two weeks. I got used to eating rice a lot and I usually will just add things to rice.

Hagakure: Shinsou, that's like half a cup of rice a day.

its a mental breakdown: I never said they fed me correctly. thus why I had a job to make money for extra food. the nuns hated that, though, so I had to hide it or make it at a friend's house. thanks for those days, Bakugo.

mother i crave violence: No problem, Toshi.

10:25 PM

Area 51

Uraraka: We're missing shit.

Uraraka has changed their name to Fuck Gravity

Fuck Gravity has changed Asui to wut

Fuck Gravity has changed Iida to Human Porche

Fuck Gravity has changed Midoriya to mistakes were made

Fuck Gravity has changed Todoroki to daddy issues

Fuck Gravity has changed Aoyama to bonjour je suis Dora

Fuck Gravity: Much better.

Tokoyami: DADDY ISSUES OH MY GOD

daddy issues: I wasn't aware we were having a therapy session. I can talk about my daddy issues if you want.

Tokoyami: No, Shoto.

daddy issues: I mean, it's not a secret that I have daddy issues. Just look at him. Of course I have issues, he made me.

Hagakure: Hold on, I'm wheezing.

daddy issues: Like I do when I look at his face knowing there's a possibility of me growing into its image.

daddy issues: No wonder Touya was constantly depressed to look so similar to him. I'd be depressed too.

Ojiro: Send help, I can't breathe.

daddy issues: It's no wonder Natsuo is so proud to look like our mother but as a guy. And Fuyumi is basically mom's twin but with a different quirk and some red in her hair.

daddy issues: Lucky motherfuckers.

bonjour je suis Dora: Mon dieu, Shoto, stop, everyone's dying.

daddy issues: ...

Fuck Gravity: Don't!

daddy issues: Like I wish my father would.

daddy issues has set "that's a lot of damage" audio to play

Fuck Gravity: Shoto, please, we're suffering.

daddy issues: Okay, okay. I'll stop tormenting you all like I wish I could my father.

aggressive chicken dance: Savage.

11:00 AM

Area 51

daddy issues: I'm coming home with the groceries. I put our stuff in separate bags. Shinsou, you'll have to come to 1-A dorms because I don't know where your room is.

mother i crave violence: just give mine to Toshi for now. I can't move yet.

Hagakure: Alright, I've been wondering why it is you said you were crying for like an hour now. Why are you crying, Bakugou?

mother i crave violence: I'm having my period. It's bad, I can't move.

Hagakure: I have midol!

aggressive chicken dance: time to spoil Baku.

wut: I'll bring heating pads.

Fuck Gravity: I'll grab his food. Do you want any of it made before I go up?

mother i crave violence: I was just gonna destroy the chips, coffee pudding, and yoghurt.

Fuck Gravity: I'm making you eat. It'll be good for you.

daddy issues: I bought a bunch of extra ready made bentos because they were on sale for you girls' Girl Day. Take him two or three up and make sure he eats.

Yaoyorozu: We're moving Girl Day to Bakugou's room, if that's alright with everyone.

mother i crave violence: Why do I feel appreciated? Make it stop.

Yaoyorozu: Because we appreciate you, Bakugou.

mother i crave violence: I don't like this.

Yaoyorozu: So you don't want us in your room?

mother i crave violence: I guess it's fine.

Hagakure: Alright, Girl Day in Bakugou's room!

neko neko kneecaps: Alright, Todoroki, bring the stuff up to Baku's room.

daddy issues: I know, I'm on the way. I was waiting for Hitoshi.

its a mental breakdown: thank you, Sho.

daddy issues: You'll have to show me to your dorm one of these days.

its a mental breakdown: oh. it's floor five room four on the boys side in the 1-C dorms.

daddy issues: You say this like I won't now make a bridge to walk from my room to yours.

its a mental breakdown: I know this and I love you.

daddy issues: Good, someone has to.

its a mental breakdown: No airing therapy sessions in the group chat, Sho.

daddy issues: Damn.

daddy issues: Anyway. I'm thinking of playing musical rooms with Aizawa and freezing the empty girls rooms on floor two. Any oppositions?

Tokoyami: My only opposition is not today. I'm working on a time sensitive commission and I don't want to see a month of work go down the drain if the ice creeps over.

daddy issues: Tokoyami, the real MVP, running his business as a profit hobby so UA can't stop him.

Fuck Gravity: What a king.

Tokoyami: Thank you both.

Tokoyami: I'm going back to Hime's fourth dress.

Tokoyami is now offline

Hagakure: Alright.

Hagakure has changed their name to oreosandpussy

oreosandpussy has changed Ojiro's name to ceouolo

oreosandpussy has changed Koda's name to the muffin man?

oreosandpussy has changed Shoji's name to pIaNoMaN

oreosandpussy has changed Tokoyami's name to brb drowning

oreosandpussy has changed Yaoyorozu's name to single braincell

ceouolo: I'm not shocked, just disappointed.

oreosandpussy: That's normal, Mashi.

1:45 PM

Emos Sanctuary

depresso extra shot: Has anyone heard from Haruhi? I haven't been able to find him for like a solid five days and he last messaged someone in here from what I can tell.

*sad kazoo* is now online

*sad kazoo*: Sorry, man, I've been doing some shit for a few days so I can find a way to adopt Toshi.

depresso extra shot: Nobody's heard from you for days!

*sad kazoo*: Well, yeah, I mean, I bought a house, I'm working, I got stuff to do.

depresso extra shot: How the fuck?

*sad kazoo*: I had Hime help me.

1:50 PM

private chat with depresso extra shot and *sad kazoo*

depresso extra shot: How the fuck did Himiko help you?

*sad kazoo*: Himiko hooked me up with one of her friends who can change appearances. The girl made me look how I would if the accident never happened.

depresso extra shot: So you're never coming back to the League.

*sad kazoo*: No. I'm not, I can't. I have a son, man. I need to be there for him.

depresso extra shot: I'll still be your friend, right?

*sad kazoo*: Of course. And you can always have Himi's friend make you look different too. You can get away from this life too, Tomura.

depresso extra shot: I can't just disappear, Dabi.

*sad kazoo*: Why not? I've already found a way to disappear without questions. I could take you into it.

depresso extra shot: Tell me why I should? I have All For One's legacy to uphold!

*sad kazoo*: Who are you even carrying his legacy anyway? Because he saved you? You don't have to risk your life for his legacy because he saved you once. Following his legacy will kill you. I should know, I was held to a legacy too and look where it got me. I'm a murderer, a wanted criminal. This path isn't one you'll survive. He groomed a child and forced his own destiny onto you.

depresso extra shot: I'll think about it.

*sad kazoo*: You could really be Izuku's brother then.

depresso extra shot: You say that like I don't have a quirk that would kill this family like I did my last one. How am I supposed to explain to Izuku that I killed our father? My mother and sister?

*sad kazoo*: Himiko knows someone who can change your quirk. I was going to see him right before I stage my disappearing act. He was going to make my fire red again and give me some ice control so I won't turn into a burnt chicken nugget again.

depresso extra shot: So he could make my quirk something else?

*sad kazoo*: He can make your quirk into whatever you want.

depresso extra shot: I've always wanted to have a healing quirk like my sister did.

*sad kazoo*: And he can do that.

depresso extra shot: I think I'd like that.

*sad kazoo*: So you wanna make the League a family instead? We can all move into my house. We can be normal. We can have lives.

depresso extra shot: I could probably talk everyone into it.

*sad kazoo* So it's a plan then.

depresso extra shot: We'd have to tell the others.

*sad kazoo*: Himi's already onboard. So are Magne and Twice. I haven't raised the question to Compress or Spinner yet.

depresso extra shot: So we just need to talk to Atsuhiro and Iguchi.

*sad kazoo*: Yeah.

depresso extra shot: Iguchi is a lost cause. He's a devout Stain follower. He won't ever agree to it. Compress we might be able to convince. He's said how his great-grandfather is a famous criminal. He might have it though his thick skull that he needs to bring honor to his family name by reforming the hero society.

*sad kazoo*: So we've decided to kill off the League.

depresso extra shot: For our second chance at life.

Taglist: @lgbtforeverything @rin-tanaka @everythingisstardust @paint-in-flames @hakodas-tits

[memes-in-a-half-shell]

Business AU - Working Late, Part 8

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7

There’s one scene in there I had in mind ever since I started writing that small fic and HELL YEH I’m gonna draw something about it at some point because fsdfbbsfbsdhbfgsbgdfguidfg it just looks aesthetically pleasing in my head.

ENJOY.

(also reminder that I base Donnie’s place on this video. The only part I change is the “kids” area - which is horrendous imo :’D - and I make into a lab/small training area)

There was something different in the air when Vee got to work the next day. This feeling that wanted to explode out in the open, an incessant rush in her veins that made her heart beat faster whenever she’d spot the terrapin. Their tasks for the day didn’t give them much time to talk, but everytime they’d be exchanging words or documents, there was this longing sensation that slowed down time to a honey sweet pace. Fingers brushing against the other, light touches here and there. Professionalism remained king in the work place and they intended to keep it as such.

By the end of the day, she knew she couldn’t leave without at least wishing a good and proper evening to the mutant. She walked to his office, remaining at the doorframe as she watched him place various papers into a briefcase. Vee gently knocked, signaling her presence, to which Donnie responded by looking up to her and adorning the cutest smile.

“At least this time I didn’t scare you,” started the woman.

“As I said yesterday, I had a lot on my mind. At least today my thoughts are a little clearer, so I can’t be easily scared. Come in!” he added, gesturing for Vee to step inside.

“I won’t take much of your time, I just wanted to check up on you before leaving.”

The turtle placed some final documents in the case, snapping it closed afteward.

“I was actually about to leave as well. Want me to drive you back home?”

“Do you have something planned?” asked Vee, raising a brow with a small smile.

Donnie faked pondering, lightly drumming his fingers on his desk: “Hmm, I suspect I might be spending the evening with a pretty lady, if she agrees.”

“Lucky her, I’m sure she’ll say yes,” winked the woman.

Already on the move, Donnie offered a hand for Vee to hold, the duo then walking together in order to reach the indoor garage at some levels below.

“Is it okay, though? Did you have something to do after work?” asked the terrapin.

“I was planning on having a drink back home, but if I can share one with you, that’d be even better.”

“How about you have that drink at my place? I have a couple of bottles that might interest you.”

“You know that if I am to step foot into your place, I will be incredibly jealous, right? ... I’m sure you must be living in a luxurious place or something.”

“A little castle in the sky, but it sure is missing a beautiful presence inside of it.”

Vee blushed, definitely enjoying the compliments that were left here and there.

Once in the vehicle, the duo made their way to the streets, the conversation light and simply glad the week was finally over. Vee did notice that their path led them to streets that featured tall buildings in the Tribeca district. For a moment she felt out of place, definitely not the target audience for such a high-end environment, but her curiosity kept her on edge only to be able to get a view of Donnie’s place. They were first facing a tower with a blank stone facade, extending so high up in the sky. The entrance’s interior was as elegant and refined as the exterior, the place giving out this feeling of prestige from every corners. As they stepped inside an elevator, Vee’s eyes widened a little as she saw Donnie press the button for the 78th floor. Castle in the sky, indeed.

As they arrived at the desired level, they were soon facing the entry door, the turtle smirking to the woman as he held the doorknob and waited.

“Ready?”

“Open the damn thing already so I can cry a little inside,” answered Vee amusedly.

The door fully opened, she couldn’t retain her gasp as her eyes started to devour the interior of what was rightfully a penthouse.

The very first few rooms she saw around left her speechless, the single thought of ‘this is bigger than my whole damn apartment’ flooding her mind. She knew there would be more, her curiosity would lead her to visit every rooms anyway. She did notice french doors leading to an outdoor balcony, her instinct pushing her to get out and take in the view.

Stopping by the the rails, she could feel the refreshing gusts of wind go through her hair, accentuating the euphoria of being so high over the city.

“So, what do you think so far?”

She turned around to face Donnie, the terrapin leaning against the open doors’ frame, always this smile on his face - glad to see her reaction. Vee tried to play it cool, shrugging.

“Heh, I’ve seen better,” she joked.

“Ah damn, and I wanted to impress,” tsked the terrapin in a similar tone.

Vee couldn’t retain her smile any longer, happily trotting back inside.

“You still have your chances. Show me the rest!”

The lower level was also home to a small office and a formal living room, but the next area was what retained the woman’s attention the most.

The kitchen was a thing of beauty, Vee unable to resist the urge to feel the marbled island and counters, in awe of the space.

“Damn, I WISH I had such a kitchen. I'd be cooking all the time!”

“You fancy yourself as a chef?” questionned Donnie.

“I do like to experiment from times to times,” she winked back.

She clapsed her hands together, bringing another subject on a rather similar topic:

“SO! What should we eat? I could even prepare something if you want.”

The turtle waved that offer away.

“Nonsense, you're my guest, you shouldn't be doing anything of that sort. … I uh-” He opened some cupboards, then the fridge and its freezer. “Wow, I have almost nothing! Except one frozen pizza for dire situations,” he added, waving a box out in the open with an unpleased expression.

Vee was instantly on board: “You know what? Fuck yeah. It's Friday night, we deserve that.”

“Now that's a line of thought I can get behind.”

As Donnie was starting to preheat the oven, Vee got closer, some questions raising in her mind:

“Although, I'm kinda susprised you don't have much variety, judging by the size of this place.”

“Not gonna lie, I need to go grocery shopping,” shrugged the mutant. “Also that tends to happen at certain times of the month. Mikey has us go through our stock, fresh and canned, in order to donate to food banks and soup kitchens.”

“That's amazing and kind!” Vee was pleasantly surprised.

“He does have this city at heart, and he loves to give back to the people,” continued Donnie. “We all love the idea. Since we can afford pretty much anything we want, it's only fair that we help those in needs. … Heck, this city has done a lot for us in the past and we had to rely on what others were throwing away for us to survive. Now it's time to pay back.”

“I find that to be very admirable,” commented the woman gently. “… Not a lot of people would do the same.”

“Indeed. It’s not because we’re mutants that it means we’re savages. We do have some heart under our shells,” he playfully added.

The oven ready, the food was placed to cook and the tour then continued. As Vee was heading to the staircase in order to reach the upper level, Donnie stopped her, pressing a button nearby and opening a encased door in the wall to reveal a small elevator.

“Show off!” laughed Vee

“What?! It can be helpful!” he quipped back with a smile.

The second floor offered two sections, one part leading to the bedroom, but the other leading to entertainement and other things. They first got to the media room, the place cozy for a nice and quiet evening.

But Vee’s eyes brought her to the glass doors that led to a juliet balcony, not wasting any time to open them and take another good look at the city.

She sighed dreamily, barely hearing the faint clinking of glasses and a bottle opening back inside.

“You like the view, don’t you?” started Donnie as he next got near, offering her a glass of red wine.

“It looks and feels like a dream. Didn’t know such a place could be found in this city.”

As she took it, the terrapin next sled his free hand and forearm gently around her waist, unable to resist the need to feel her closer... Vee did not mind, actually leaning back a little against him, gladly taking a sip of her drink before answering:

“You’d be surprised, there are bigger places laying around.”

“I’m sure they wouldn’t look as tasteful as yours.”

“Nonsense. It only looks good right now ‘cause you’re in here. ... Any places you’re in looks a thousand times better than before.”

Vee’s blush was more apparent as she could feel the other gently nuzzle the top of her head, slowly making his way to a temple and leaving a soft kiss there.

“You’re one heck of a charmer, did you know that?” added the woman with a smirk.

“I only aim to please, I can’t help it.”

She turned to face him, raising a brow in amusement.

“And so what now? You brought me to your place only so you could woo and please me?”

“That does sound like a good plan.”

The feel of his hand next cupping her cheek brought a shiver across the woman’s body, leaning slightly to his touch. His scales did feel foreign compared to human skin, but there was a certain softness to it as well that only made her crave for more...

“Each days I wake up and wonder if meeting you was ever a dream...,” softly said the mutant.

“I wouldn’t mind making it feel a bit more real to you.”

That brought a quiet chuck out of Donnie, but also gave him enough courage to lean in and place a sweet, slow kiss on Vee’s lips. Each instances would bring their bodies closer, the duo mindlessly making their way back inside and only breaking their kiss to leave their wine glasses on a nearby coffee table. It was that magnetism, a certain je ne sais quoi that sparked that fire in them whenever they’d get that close. Last evening’s passion was still lingering and right now it felt as if there had been no break at all since then. As Vee was starting to unbutton the mutant’s shirt, both heard a beeping sound, stopping them dead in their tracks. Their eyes fell on Donnie’s right wrist - his watch.

“Shit, the food,” said the terrapin. “I, uh, I’ll be right back,” he added, trying to gain back his senses. “I’ll get it out and let it cool for a bit on the counter.”

“Sure, go,” replied Vee with a small smile, slightly flustered as she replaced her crooked glasses and moved some strands of hair away from her face.

She took back her wine as she watched him go. A part of her was telling her to slow down, but on the other hand she couldn’t deny that the need was there - on both sides. What harm could there be? It was just about having a little bit of fun... She proceeded back to the hallway, sipping as her gaze scanned the decor. She heard hurried steps in the staircase, soon Donnie’s shape coming into view. He tried to play it cool as he noticed the woman looking at him, vaguely gesturing in the kitchen’s direction downstair.

“It’s ready whenever you want.”

Vee took another sip, then adding: “We still haven’t finished the tour yet. Let’s do that first!”

“There’s not much left, but alright.”

“‘Not much left’, says the guy who lives in a two-story penthouse WITH an elevator,” pointed Vee, amused.

The mutant chuckled, inviting the woman to follow him as he left a hand at the small of her back. The next part had been completely renovated in order to have one room be a small lab, and the other one be a private gym and training area.

“What kind of trainings do you do?” inquired Vee, looking around at the equipment.

“Mostly nin-uhm, martial arts,” Donnie quickly corrected himself.

“’Nin-uhm-martial-arts’, sounds interesting,” laughed the woman. “Any specialty?”

“Bōjutsu,“ he replied, grabbing a pole from a rack nearby.

Vee whistled in appreciation, her eyes scanning the weapon.

“I’ve heard that can pack quite a punch, surprisingly.”

“It’s good to whack some butts, not gonna lie,” added Donnie, rolling the staff in one hand. Then in one swift movement he brought the woman closer, the pole resting at her back. “It can also be helpful for some maneuvers,” he ended with a smirk.

“Such a tease,” said Vee, playfully tapping at his exposed plastron. “I wouldn’t say no to a demonstration.”

“Another day, perhaps.”

He let her free, putting the staff back to its resting place

“Aight, come on, one room left!”

“What about that lab part?” asked Vee, following the terrapin next.

“There’s nothing much to see, frankly. It’s pretty messy as well.”

“Or maybe you’re just a mad scientist and you don’t want me to see your evil inventions?”

Donnie faked a surprised gasp: “Alas, you’ve uncovered my secret!”

Both were laughing as they made their way to the last room; the master bedroom.

It was quite simple and charming, but the main feature remained the large windows that gave that same phenomenal view of the city. Vee took some time to appreciate the decor, sipping the last drops of wine from her glass.

“... I can’t imagine waking up every day with such a view,” she mused, her gaze drifting back to the windows. “You must feel on top of the world.”

“Wait, I can make it even better,” said the other as he moved to the light switch.

As soon as he turned the lights off, the room’s atmosphere changed, suddenly illuminated by a sea of stars below them.

Envelopped in darkness, yet glistening in colorful lights, Vee felt at peace - a hidden watcher over this tumultuous city. She next felt her glass gently get taken away from her hold, the mutant leaving it on a small table nearby. It didn’t take long for him to get back close to her, his arms surrounding Vee’s form as he stood behind her. The woman easily slipped into that feel good moment, closing her eyes and exposing a faint smile on her lips. He felt so strong, yet tender - the promise of a good man that would never do her wrong...

“... I’m so glad you’re here,” he murmured, his hands travelling along Vee’s arms in light touches.

Oh to hell with it. She decided to move out of Donnie’s hold, proceeding to remove her shirt. She turned around to face him, noticing his gaze studying her form and probably a bit surprised to suddenly see her in her bra. But she didn’t give a damn. That’s what she wanted.

“And I’m glad to be here,” she answered calmly.

She heard that deep churr rise again in the mutant’s chest, an expression of desire which would entice her so much in return... Vee couldn’t help bringing her hands to his exposed chest, feeling the faint vibration and appreciating the texture of his plastron. Her touch lowered, continuing her previous task of unbuttoning his shirt. The turtle helped a bit by detaching another button behind his neck and then at his lower back, allowing the clothing to be properly removed from around his shell’s attachment. Without a shirt, Vee could rightfully observe the terrapin’s muscles, her fingers lightly hovering his toned arms and appreciating every inches of what she saw. All it took was for their gazes to cross, her greens in his golds, to bring back that same need from earlier. Kiss me again and again, and never stop...

The feel of his lips was pure addiction at this point. A slow dance that lightened up all her senses. Soon enough he was sitting down on the bed, Vee inviting herself unto his lap only so she couldn’t break their kissing. To feel his three-fingered hands across her skin kept her in such an incessant need, feeling like she was drowning in-between her legs. The terrapin dared to unclasp and remove her bra, although the whole movement felt very natural. In return, the woman removed her glasses, as well as Donnie’s, taking a moment to admire his traits.

“... You have such beautiful eyes,” she cooed, next tenderly sliding his bandana away.

She couldn’t get over the feeling of his scales under her fingers, soon nuzzling his cheek and her lips trailing light kisses here and there.

“Fais-moi l’amour (make love to me),” she whispered.

Donnie answered with a stronger churr, his hands travelling lower on Vee’s body only to bring her closer into one delicious wave motion, her lower core meeting his hidden erection. The movements were repeated, getting a momentarily release for all that sudden need. It was when he started to hear quiet moans out of her that he decided ‘screw it‘ and proceeded to shift her position to have her lay on the bed, on her back. Bringing himself over her, he left some kisses on her lips before starting to trail along her features, his tone husky as he started:

“You smell nice...”

He went along her throat, his pace slow and delightful. His path led him lower and lower, from her breasts to her stomach.

“I’m sure you taste nice too,” he added.

Sitting on his knees, he brought Vee’s hips over his thighs, but he gave himself a pause, his palm caressing the front part of her jeans.

“You good? You still wanna go on with this?” asked the terrapin.

She nodded, biting her lip in delight.

“Absolutely, or else I wouldn’t be laying here, half naked. ... What about you?”

He smiled, already at the task of unbuttoning and unzipping Vee’s pants.

“I never want to stop.”

In one swift movement, he removed her panties as well, undressing her completely without issue. He took a moment to study her form softly illuminated by the lights outside. She was a work of art to his eyes and right now he felt like the luckiest man alive... He lovingly squeezed her hips and altered with languid caresses over the woman’s skin, only to next bring one of his hands closer to her core, his thumb starting in slow circles over her clit. He could feel the relief washing over Vee’s body, her waist lightly following his motion only so she could feel more. The greater her need, the more Donnie didn’t want to let go. He even got to slip one finger in her at some point, her moans an absolute delight as he took his time. After a moment, he dared get his finger out, his gaze plunged in Vee’s as he licked his digit with a low churr.

“... You do taste nice,” he commented lovingly. “Now I wonder how you’d feel around me.”

Vee was unable to speak, her heart beating so hard and throwing any reason out the window... As she saw Donnie about to unzip his pants, she got on the move and decided to take the matter in her own hands. They joined in a kiss as she got to the task, the mutant’s hands caressing her skin and sometimes getting lost in her hair, visibly as much in need as her for their imminent union. He was able to get out of his pants and underwear in a slight clumsy fashion, but he was quickly back on his knees, allowing Vee to observe him. Of a mixed pink and purple color, his penis did present some characteristics that were not human, such as a slightly flared tip. As it had been internal until now, the organ was coated in natural lubricant when out, most probably allowing for an easier penetration and accomodation to any partner. He was a bit longer than what Vee ever experienced with other partners, but right now her desire was surpassing any concerns. They didn’t need to speak, Vee bringing the mutant into another kiss, allowing herself to climb back into his lap only for their cores to meet and rub in a delicious manner. The world around them was a blur of shadows and lights, only their presence the most real and tangible aspect in the room. Their thoughts were a cloud of mixed emotions, but right now what mattered most was that they wanted this. They needed this. A demonstration of love they’ve been holding back for some time now... Donnie instinctively started to shift forward, getting Vee back on the mattress. He was careful enough to hold back some of his weight on her, having enough strength to sustain himself, even when the woman would cling to him. He felt her legs gently caress along his, finding the best position to hold close to his hips, his shell proving to be somewhat of a challenge. That slight shift in her position allowed for better friction, the turtle’s languid motions bringing delighted mewls out of Vee. At some points he could feel his tip trying to slip in, to which he thought ‘fuck it’ and decided to go all in. Vee’s gasp brought him to a pause, remaining inside of her only so she could adjust.

“You okay?” he murmured, encouraging her with some kisses here and there on her features.

She nodded, her fingers lovingly going across his scales at his neck and shoulders.

“I’ll go slow, I promise,” he added.

He’d never excuse himself if he ever were to hurt her, anyway. His churr rumbled again as he slowly moved his hips in a circular motion, Vee sticking to him like glue. Her toes were curling due to pleasure, her body soon following Donnie’s pattern only to better meet his thrusts. Some slurred “fuck” and “oh oui” would leave her at times, sometimes interrupted by kisses that translated all the desire in her. At some point Donnie shifted their position so they would lay on their sides, still facing eachother. He helped one of Vee’s leg to stay up, his palm resting behind her thigh, allowing her to feel his muscles at work.

“You feel so good,” he complimented, back into an amorous motion.

The friction created by this new proximity was bringing Vee on edge. She was unable to answer anything, her breathing making her lose her words. It was the only encouragement the mutant needed, nuzzling her as he kept going. Everything felt so natural. As if all the pieces of an intricate puzzle had finally been assembled. There was this sensation of completion between them, knowing that something in their bond would definitely shift - hopefully for the best.

“You like that, baby? I won’t stop. I wanna feel you cum around me...”

She moaned his name in return, her eyes remaining shut as she lost herself even more in the moment. Every touches and kisses heightened all sensations, bringing both of them to an edge they so very craved for. Feeling Vee’s body tensing up slightly, the terrapin knew she was close to an orgasm, lightly squeezing his hold on her and bringing her into a french kiss. His thrusts were a little more forceful, their bodies tingling in anticipation. It was when she gasped for air, her nails digging into his scales, that he knew she was high on a cloud. He could feel her walls deliciously clamp around him, the sensation bringing him to his own edge as well. His orgasm brought him to slow his pace to long and langorous pumps. Their moans intertwined, riding this wave together. Neither of them wanted to depart once the high died down, keeping close and slowly petting eachother. Vee did bring Donnie’s attention on her as she left small kisses along his jawline. His golden eyes seemed to shine in this surreal lighting, conveying many unspoken words. There was this feeling of peace he never experienced with anyone else before. An affirmation that this was where he belonged, in her arms, as well as she belonged in his. They were still connected and it felt so right...

“Well, now that really opened my appetite,” finally said Vee with a small smile.

He smiled in return, leaving a kiss on her forehead. His appetite was growing as well, and for many things too...

***

Only wearing their underwears and glasses, both were now cuddled up in blankets on the couch in the media room, the television on to a random channel as they were eating their pizza (which they had to reheat, to their amusement). As they finished their meal, Vee did not mind cuddling closer to the turtle, simply enjoying eachother’s presence. Her attention did drift from the television at some point, observing Donnie’s traits instead. She was used to seeing him with his purple bandana, but even with a bare face and only his glasses he still had a lot of charms. He had a kind face and the cutest snout, the mere sight of him a wonder when compared to humankind. The terrapin did notice her focus on him at some point, smirking.

“Yes? Can I help you, madame?”

“I have a question.”

“Outrageous,” he added playfully. “... Do tell.”

She shifted her position a bit, bringing an arm against his chest, softly petting the scales at his collarbone and base of his neck.

“Why do you and your brothers wear those bandanas? ... If it’s too personal, you don’t need to answer.”

His smile was renewed and sweet, his arm around her bringing his hand to pet her shoulder and skin in return.

“I don’t mind answering at all, although I’ll skip some details.... But long story short, it was a gift given to us by our father, years ago. It has a great significance for us and it’s still a great proof of all we had to learn and overcome in order to be who we are today.”

“Something symbolic then, that’s nice,” added Vee. “As long as it brings something positive in your life, that sure can be as nice as anything. .... Also, not gonna lie, purple looks good on you.”

“It’s my favorite and it’s the best color, that’s why! What’s your favorite color?”

Vee was amused by this simple question, but that brought her to move once more. She was now straddling the terrapin, her eyes scanning him as she answered:

“It’s green.”.

“Oh,” added the other in amusement. “So I guess I must be quite the jackpot for you?”

"You're everything I want..."

There was no ounce of hesitation as she leaned forward to give him a sweet kiss. Donnie easily gave in, his hands resting at the small of the woman’s back This time there was no shyness in-between them, only comfort and peace. Soon enough the television was nothing but background noise as they kept going for a second round that night...

((Part 9))

[barricadebops]

Miserables Month Day 3: "Language"

Written for the Miserables Month @themiserablesmonth

Her Marius Pontmercy could easily be labeled sometimes as being somewhat an odd fellow.

Do not misunderstand her; for all his oddities, Cosette was still very much in love with him, but it could be quite confusing trying to parce through his rapid speeches and lines, many times only just being able to catch phrases such as "I love you" as Marius Pontmercy rushed on an on about his speech.

At the present, however, she believed her Marius was being unbearably rude. The last night they had seen each other in the garden, he had been coughing a great deal, which certainly would not do. How dare he worry her like so?

That annoyance at his rudeness, however, turned to fear as she awaited his presence in the garden, her Papa and Toussaint having already fallen deep into their sleep on account of the late hours of the night.

Why hadn't he shown up yet? She huffed and adjusted her bonnet, annoyance quickly growing once more. How very inconsiderate to keep her waiting like this! She would be having words with him later on, remind him of how important it was to be on time to receive a lady.

A snap of a twig outside the garden gates caught her attention, and already having recognized the familiar weight of the footsteps, she rushed forwards towards the great gates, and whispered out, "Monsieur, is that you?" When no response came, she crossed her arms and raised her voice just the slightest bit, "Look, monsieur, I am already cross with you, do not aggravate me any further. Honestly, is this any to treat a lady? Making her wait so long?" She turned around and refused to look at him; when no answer came, she turned back, confused. In the gleaming moonlight she could make out the lovely coiffed curls so prominent on Marius, but when she moved forward, the rest of the figure enshrouded by the night's dark jolted, slipping something between the grilled gates, and rushing away.

Curse her foolish lover and the late hour in which they meet. She could not even call out for him, lest she wake her Papa and Toussaint. Instead, she had to huff and watch as Marius Pontmercy hurried away, having avoided her on this night.

Just as she was about to head back into the manor, already planning out exactly what she would be writing in her notebook, the clouds around the moon shifted and spilled a sliver of light over what Cosette could now see was a folded slip of paper. A note.

She remembered, now, her Marius' penchant for sending notes and love letters, and as she unfolded the paper and caught sight of the scrawled lines, she could see that it was indeed the latter:

My dearest Cosette,

Oh that it is my woe that I should be separated from you on this night! I never wish to be parted from you, and yet it seems destiny seems to have other plans for my fate.

As has been the source of your consternation over these last few days, I have taken ill. The cough I had been so hoping would fade to nothing has unfortunately only grown harsher and worse. My friend, Courfeyrac—you don't know him—has taken notice to this, and has expressly forbid that I should journey outside our flat.

He is aware I have been seeing you, and yet he was still unrelenting in nt allowing me come meet when we usually do. He doesn't quite understand the workings of the heart—the most he's had have been quick flings. I beg you do not think of him poorly, however. At heart he is truly a good man.

The only way I was able to sneak out and give you this letter you now hold in your hands was when Courfeyrac had not yet returned from his meeting at the Musain—you won't know of those either. You know, he almost didn't go, was quite willing to stay by my side, but I forced him to go. He musn't miss out on his politics because of me.

My heart aches to be with you, my dearest. It is as they say—love is the best kind of medicine. I beg you hold me in your heart so that your Marius may return to you sooner than what may be too late.

Your beloved,

Marius Pontmercy

Sick? Oh how fretful! So she was justified, then, in her worry about that cough! If only she could have brough him into the manor, she would have had him in bed, at his side, ready should he need anything, and gently scolding his sleeping form for causing her such worry.

She made to fold up the letter and trudge gloomily back to her room, when a few more lines after the signature at the bottom appeared:

Je t'aime.

I love you.

Ich liebe dich

Je t'aime was all fine, and warmed her heart as she still stood, remaining in the garden. But these last two lines confused her—what on earth was this gibberish? Why did Marius believe she would know what it meant?

She hummed to herself as she stole back into the manor quietly so as not to wake Toussaint.

Perhaps her Marius had written it in a state of delirium. It was quite possible. Still, she kept the note safe on her little table.

_________________________________________

The next night was much the same. Cosette waited once more in the garden, a mix of anticipation and worry ebbing within her. If he did not return today, she thought she might faint of devastation—it was quite improper to worry a lady like this!

Again, as she spotted what she thought was Marius' curls, she hurried towards the gates, disappointed as that familiar figure rushed away once more.

She unfolded the note he had dropped with fear.

My dearest Cosette,

It seems as if this illness is a stubborn one. Courfeyrac, the friend I mentioned in my previous letter, brought over one of his friends today; he's training to become a doctor. He declared that it was nothing too serious and that I should be fine, however he was a little concerned with the way I had gone pale and started trembling. I purposefully neglected to inform him the reason for such a thing occurring was likely due more to his visit. I have not had many joyful memories of him from the first time we met.

I shall hope and pray sincerely that we meet tomorrow. I am sure God will grant me this one request. He does have much to make up for to me, anyways.

I beg you continue to think of me as I know you were doing yesterday. I could hear your whispers in the wind, calling for my name.

Your beloved,

Marius Pontmercy

And again, those three lines at the bottom, the last two still remaining a sequence of gibberish:

Je t'aime

I love you

Ich liebe dich

Her heart sunk. Her love was still ill, and so she would have to worry even more. She knew she shouldn't be concerned over whether her Marius was being well taken care of in his sick bed—the way he had spoken of this Courfeyrac made it seek as if he truly was in good hands—but she simply could not help it. She worried for her Marius. Oh curse this rainy season!

_________________________________________

That next night, Marius finally appeared back in her full sight.

The moon cast a glow over his face. His curls seemed a bit greasier, his face perhaps paler, and there were shadows that were rimmed beneath his eyes; all in all, however, Cosette still saw the handsome man who had caught her attention at the Luxembourg Gardens.

"Oh monsieur!" she cried, though in a quiet whisper as best as she could. She ran up to him, stopping short of embracing him and instead cupping her hands to his cheks. "How pale you've turned!" She drew back to glare at him. "It was very rude, you know, to have caught an illness like so; have you any idea the worry you caused me?"

It seemed as if Marius Pontmercy who was in the seventh heaven, could not muster words, only call out "Cosette!" in joy.

She crossed her arms and sat back down on her bench. "No, monsieur, I will not be having this at all! First with your illness worrying me and then your gibberish letters confusing me.".

At this, Marius Pontmercychimself turned confused. "Gibberish?" he repeated. "But I thought they were rather clear?"

Cosette waved a hand in dismissal. "Yes, yes, it was all fine and good, but then you wrote these three lines underneath, and I only know what the first one means." She drew out both the letters she had made sure to bring this time around. "See!"

She pointed to where he had written these lines, I love you and Ich liebe dich. "This is gibberish."

Marius Pontmercy glanced at the paper before softly chuckling. Cosette frowned.

"You only continue your rudeness," she said, annoyed. "I call out this serious problem, and you laugh."

When her Marius finally stops laughing and catches his breath, he further softens his eyes and said, "Cosette, I was telling you I love you."

Cosette raised an eyebrow. Yes, I know what that sounds like, but neither of them match je t'aime.

Marius knelt in front of her and took her hands in his own. A bold move. "That might be because they're in two different languages."

She furrowed her eyebrows. "Different languages?"

"Yes—you remember me telling you I'm a translator? I know English and German, those are the languages on the letters."

Cosette huffed once more and shifted her eyes to just to the right and far off from where Marius Pontmercy would sit. "Well how was I supposed to know this? And why write 'I love you' in three different languages when one is enough?"

Marius Pontmercy rubbed his thumbs on the soft skin of her palm. He tugged gently to bring her attention back to him. "It's because," he whispered softly, "I wanted you to know that in whatever language—French, English, or German—nothing will ever change this constant: that I love you."

Well, alright. Okay. So maybe Marius Pontmercy's thought of gibberish then wasn't so bad.

She smiled to herself. She would be keeping these letters safe. Especially as her Marius said, "In case it wasn't clear enough, however, let me express this in a language you understand," and he lifted the tip of her foot encased within its shoe and pressed his lips gently to it.

[jangmi-latte]

Hey, its the anon who requested the singer scenario. I did not expect that you used musicals, especially I recognized "Defying Gravity" from Wicked and "Million Dreams" from The Greatest Showman. Because of it, I really wanted the same scenario but with Kamil, Vil, and Malleus with the fem reader who sings but this time, is singing with various languages from her world. Love your writing by the way.

❞ 𝐌𝐲 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐝𝐞 ❝

➻ content: a singing latte

➻ warnings: none

➻ comments: welcome back to my cafe, dear anonie!

࿐. . . KALIM AL ASIM (ft. Pippin the bird) ; French

You hummed to yourself as you softly swayed, sitting on the sides of the fountain that was located in the middle of Scarabia. You were waiting for Kalim, who was taking quite a while with whatever Jamil called him for. There was nothing entirely important to do today. Classes were over and you just wanted to spend some time with your boyfriend.

He brought you to his dorm so that he could hear you sing again. He loves your voice and would often tell other students about your talent. Most of Scarabia already knows about your gift at this point. Right now, Kalim just wanted to spend time with you. Maybe ride a magic carpet, away from studies and just lay on your lap while you sing.

"Where is he?" you whispered to yourself as you looked at the entrance of the dorm. You sighed as you played with the waters. Suddenly, claws gently gripped/landed on your shoulders along with a gush of wind that made your hair fly around, "There you are, Pippin," you greeted Kalim's rose-breasted cockatoo who rubbed against your cheek while chirping.

Pippin flew down to your lap, looking up at you with a small tilt of her head before she nudged your chest, "What? You want me to sing?" you giggled and gently rubbed her wings. As if she understood, Pippin bobbed her head and chirped, "If you say so."

"J’avais rêvé d’une autre vie... Quand ma vie passait comme un rêve... J’étais prête à toutes les folies...À toutes les passions qui se lèvent. [I dreamed of another life...When my life passed like a dream... I was ready for all madness... To all the passions that arise.]” you softly sang. A beautiful song from your homeland that you and your mother would always sing.

The words fluently fell from your lips, your hands continued to grace on Pippin's feathers. The bird closed her eyes and comfortably perched herself on your lap. 

“J’étais si jeune où est le mal? Je voulais rire, aimer et vivre....[I was so young where is the harm? I wanted to laugh, love and live...]”

Flying down, on his magic carpet, Kalim has just ‘finished’ his duties and more or less relieved Jamil from following him around. ‘I’m just going to go to y/n!’ He told the vice dorm leader. Ah, what a relief. No, he doesn’t trust Kalim, he trusts you and he’ll cherish the small taste of freedom he’ll receive from being away from the male. 

Anyways, Kalim flew around Scarabia and once he saw you, he was in the middle of flying down before he heard your melodic voice. Just a few feet above you, he laid on his stomach and leaned on his hands. He couldn’t understand the words coming out from your lips but your soft tune was enough to leave him in awe.

“Danser jusqu'à la fin du bal...Ivre du bonheur d'être libre...[Dance until the end of the ball,...Drunk with the happiness of being free...]” you continued to serenade. Pippin felt the wind softly sway around, opening her eyes, she looked up and squawked at the sight of Kalim. You hummed and followed Pippin’s direction of sight, “Oh! Kalim!” you gleamed. His magic carpet slowly and carefully moved down to you, “That was amazing, y/n!” he complimented.

“I didn’t understand anything but the way you sang it made me want to hear it again!” he laughed and jumped down from his carpet. Pippin flew up and landed on his shoulder as he sat beside you on the fountain, “I don’t mind singing it for you,” you smiled. He laid on your lap, your hands raking through his locks.

“Please do!”

࿐. . . VIL SCHOENHEIT (ft. Rook Hunt) ; Filipino

The dance studio in Pomefiore was emptied, one by one the students left, leaving you, Rook, and Vil in the room. It was training, as Vil said. It somehow went smoothly, and the dorm leader was obviously relieved it was finally over. After all, you can’t avoid having reckless first years. 

The model was fixing his make up as he sat on one of the chairs, Rook was leaning by the window— probably observing the others —and you, you were sat on the floor, scanning through songs on your phone. Your earphones were plugged into ears as your soft hums was the only thing heard in the studio.

“Psst.”

“Hm?”

Vil looked up from his compact mirror with an arched eyebrow, looking at Rook in confusion. The vice dorm head moved his head as if he was pointing to your direction, “Listen,” he smirked. The confused blond looked at your form that remained focused on scanning through your phone.

“Nung nakita kita sa tagpuan ni Bathala...May kinang sa mata na di maintindihan..[When I saw you in God’s place...There’s a glint in your eyes that I couldn’t understand..]” you softly sang along with the song that echoed in your ears. 

Both males did not understand the song you were singing. For sure, you have caught Vil’s attention once again. He knew about your beautiful voice, he said it was another asset that was fit for Pomefiore. He silently adored how smoothly the words left your lips, in a form of a beautiful melody.

Despite the language barrier, hearing you sing always relieves him for the stress he tries to avoid at all times. He was absentmindedly staring at you and Rook wouldn’t want to ruin the prefect’s good mood.

“Tumingin kung saan sinubukan kong lumisan...At tumigil ang mundo...Nung ako’y ituro mo..[Looking where I tried to leave...and the world stopped moving...when you pointed at me..]” The song had a sad tune to it. You didn’t look sad at all, but rather, you looked so calm and at peace as the words effortlessly yet gracefully moved along your tongue. That belt you did at the end surprised both males.

You were truly talented.

“At hindi ka lumayo... Nung ako yung sumusuko...At nagbago ang mundo.. Nung ako'y pinaglaban mo.....At tumigil ang mundo...Nung ako'y pinili mo...Siya ang panalangin ko...[And you did not go far...when I was the one to give up...and the world changed..when you fought for me...and the world stopped moving...when you chose me..He is my prayer...].”

“What a beautiful voix [voice], y/n!” Rook clapped which caught your attention immediately, looking at the reflection of both blonds with red cheeks, “D-Did I sing too loud?” you embarrassingly scratched your cheek, “I didn’t mind it at all,” Vil commented and closed his compact mirror and sending you a charming smile.

“I love it when you sing.”

࿐. . . MALLEUS DRACONIA (ft. Lilia Vanrouge) ; Japanese

“y/n.”

You looked over at your senior from over your shoulder. By senior, you meant the old fae that was looking at his phone with a peculiar glint in his eyes. He was probably too engrossed from whatever he was watching, “Yes, senior Lilia?” “I told thou to just address me as Lilia, dear,” he responded before laying back.

He took off the plug of his earphones from his phone, “Malleus told me about a song that he known from Ignihyde’s dorm leader,” Lilia gestured over to the fae that descended down the stairs, “That’s right. Somehow, I heard you singing it from your room,” the younger male admitted as he approached you.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion before turning your chair over to face them, “What song?” you asked and Lilia gave you his phone, “I guess 'twere this one. That's what Idia sent me.” You took the phone from him and listened to the song. That’s right, it was one of your favorite songs from your homeland. You smiled and read the lyrics, “I know this song. It was from my homeland indeed.” You hummed the tune.

“Can you sing it?”

You looked up at your boyfriend in surprise, “You want me to sing it?” you repeated, “Of course, child of man. I want to hear you sing again,” he said, giving you his own smile, “I would love to hark a native speaker like thou sing a song from thy homeland,” Lilia added.

With a shy closed lip smile, you nodded and glanced back at the phone, “Tsui ni toki wa kita...Kinou made wa...Joshou no joshou de..[Finally, the time has come... Everything up 'til yesterday was a preface of prologue..]” you easily followed along with the song. 

Malleus has took a seat next to Lilia, his eyes admiringly stared at you. Lilia was fascinated at how your lips gracefully moved along with the words. A language so foreign yet beautifully sung by a singer. Though, they may not understand, it was soothing enough to hear something new every once and a while.

“Tobashi yomi de ii kara...Koko kara ga boku da yo...Keiken to chishiki to...Kabi no haekakatta...Yuuki wo motte...Imada katsute nai SUPIIDO de..Kimi no moto e DAIBU wo..[It's fine if you just skimming it through...Because it's my turn from now on...My experience and my knowledge...And all the courage I had let start to mildew...At an unprecedented speed..I will dive right into you]”

Another thing Malleus adored was your smile. How your lips would curve up as you sung out the lyrics, you were enjoying yourself and Malleus couldn’t have asked for more. He was pleased, “Madoromi no naka de...Namanurui KOORA ni...Koko de nai dokoka wo.. Yume mita yo...Kyoushitsu no..Mado no soto ni...Densha ni yurare... Hakobareru asa ni...[ And when I dozed off into a lukewarm can of cola, I dreamed of a world that so far from here. Searching outside of the classroom window, or in a morning that's brought from the rocking train..]”

That was quite a fast structure of words and you gracefully pulled it off. Just as the song trailed off into a musical, your laughter was heard as you gave the song back to Lilia, “It’s a beautiful song, but I must admit I don’t memorize all of it.” You stood up. “And you sung it beautifully,” Malleus said and wrapped an arm around your waist, “You can sing us to sleep with how soothing your voice is.”

“Are thou calling me out and changing mine lullabies for her songs, Malleus?” Lilia pouted, “Worry not, dear, thy voice is amazing.” He smiled at you while you giggled in return.

“Thank you.”

“I still prefer her voice over yours Lilia..”

“Hey!”

[abarbaricyalp]

I looooved what you wrote for my first prompt!! I have another if you're down :D

How about Bucky starts talking about how hot/sweet/great he thinks Sam is in another language (not knowing Sam speaks it) but using an insulting tone so it wouldn't sound like he was complimenting him (possibly during an undercover mission, where Sam can't react to what he is saying) until Bucky goes on a "tirade" but really getting pretty graphic about what he wants to do to Sam or wants Sam to do to him, causing Sam to spit take or choke on his drink before Bucky catches on that he can understand and just dies on the inside until they finish the mission and Sam can respond <3 <3

Thanks again, Friend!

Always taking prompts <3

(never) Lost in Translation

Read on AO3

“Я вас любил безмолвно, безнадежно,” Bucky breathed into the cold air as he curled his fingers around the stock of his rifle and shifted his hips against the rooftop. “То робостью, то ревностью томим; Я вас любил так искренно, так нежно--” [I loved you hopelessly and mutely, Now with shyness, now with jealousy being vexed; I loved you so sincerely, so fondly--"I Loved You" by Alexander Pushkin]

“Huh?” Sam asked on the other end of the comm line.

“Just trying to stay awake, Wilson,” Bucky answered. “Maybe you can sit out here and give your mouth frostbite.”

“Give it another hour or so and I’ll warm you back up, Barnes,” Sam promised and Bucky could hear the smile in his voice, which was enough to stave off the chill for a while longer.

“Did you think I wouldn’t know who made a nest of jackets and my mom’s blanket next to my hospital bed?” Sam asked at two in the morning when Bucky slunk back into the hospital room and the mess he’d turned the two small chairs next to the bed into.

Bucky considered continuing to sulk in the shadows in silence. But it was the first time Sam was awake in nineteen hours and he was pretty fucking sick of the quiet at this point. “Sarah brought the blanket,” he said. He leaned forward to reach for Sam’s hand, curling his fingers around the bandages and splints gently.

“Yeah, but I know Sarah’s not sleeping in my room. It can’t have been so long that you felt the need to move in, man.”

“I’m not moved in ,” Bucky defended. “Just didn’t know how long it would be. And it’s fucking cold in this building.”

“Wouldn’t know.” Sam tried to shift in the bed and let out a gasp of pain.

“Yeah, you probably don’t want to move too much. Figured you could work that one out on your own, with that big ass cast around your ribs,” Bucky said. But his brow was drawn in in worry and he brought his other hand to Sam’s hip, arching it gently over the thin fabric of the gown.

Sam relaxed back into the bed as much as he could. “I hate sleeping on my back,” he said.

“Sorry, I’ll be sure they accommodate that next time your ribs are sticking out of your skin.”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“Maybe a little,” Bucky agreed. “You’re gonna have to get over it though. You need to rest.”

“I’ve been asleep for a day,” Sam said. “Come on, can’t you believe I miss you?”

Bucky barked out a laugh and shook his head. “No, I don’t believe that at all. And you can’t miss me anymore than I miss you. I’m the conscious one.”

Sam preened and then his eyes drifted shut. Bucky squeezed his hand gently and began to hum under his breath until the flickering of Sam’s eyes settled down. “Que ce soit dimanche ou lundi / Soir ou matin minuit midi /Dans l'enfer ou le paradis /Les amours aux amours ressemblent /C'était hier que je t'ai dit /Nous dormirons ensemble,” he sang softly. Sam let out a soft breath and finally fell asleep. [ Whether it be Sunday Monday/ Evening ,morning, midnight, midday / Whether it be in hell, in paradise, /Love-affairs look like each other. /I said to you just Yesterday: /We shall sleep together. "Nous Dormions Ensemble" "We'll Sleep Together" Louis Aragon]

“I told you to cover Torres on the left!” Sam shouted as he landed heavily on the rubble of the street.

                                                                                       “أنت تعني الكثير بالنسبة لي” Bucky bit back. “You were in more trouble than he was. I told you to get out of the air.” [You mean so much to me]

 “I’m sorry,” Sam snorted. “Are you leading this mission? Are you Captain America all of a sudden?”

                                                                           “أنت تجعلني أريد أن أكون رجلاً أفضل” Bucky muttered. “I’ve always been the one with the brain cells when Captain America’s around.” [ You make me want to be a better man.]

 “For what it’s worth, guys, I’m fine,” Torres said. “Caught the bad guys. Didn’t get eaten. Alls well that ends well. Unless this is, like, foreplay or something for you two. In which case, I want to get back to the jet before you keep going.”

“Shut up, Torres,” Bucky snapped. “There’s a---thing behind you,” he added, exhausted and confused about what it was exactly that they were fighting. Torres turned around, too slowly, to stare at the limping creature of some underwater origin and Sam ripped the shield from his back to fling at the monster. With a squelch and a groan, it toppled over and the shield bounced back to Sam’s arm.

                                                                                           “إنك في غاية الجمال” Bucky breathed and rubbed his human hand over his face, smearing ash and sweat until it stung his eyes. “Torres, do an aerial scan for stragglers. Wilson and I’ll survey damage down here.” [ You’re so beautiful]

 “Oh, no, Wilson . You’re in trouble,” Torres laughed. He clapped Sam’s shoulder as he walked past and then shot into the sky when the area was clear enough to.

“You’re too hard on him,” Sam said as he started to kick over blocks of asphalt. “He’s a trained soldier, y’know. He’s not some helpless kid.”

 Bucky snorted and kneeled down to run his metal hand through a puddle of water on the ground, watching silver ripple across the current.                                                                  “مائة قلب لن يكونوا كافيين لحمل كل حبي لك” he said, and then, “He was never trained for those wings.” [ A hundred hearts would be too few to carry all my love for you.]

 “He helped build those wings. He trained with Exo-Skeletons. The wings are in perfectly capable hands.”

“Make sure clean up takes samples of the water,” Bucky said. “I think there are organisms in there,” he said as he stood up and wiped his hand on his pants.

“How hard did you just have to work, after Torres put foreplay in your head, to not say orgasms?” Sam teased, shooting an easy, if slightly bloody grin, at Bucky.

                                                                                “أنت إشراقة شمسي يا حبي” Bucky sighed and shook his head. “Let’s get home. You obviously have a concussion.” [ You are my sunshine, my love.]

 “Hey, just ‘cause I’m funnier than you and know your depraved mind well enough to say something like that doesn’t make me damaged,” Sam said, jogging to catch up with Bucky.

“Does he talk?” villain-du-jour asked, appraising what was supposed to be the Winter Soldier but was really just Bucky bored out of his skull.

“If you want him to,” Torres said with a shrug. “Most people don’t.”

“See,” Sam said in Bucky’s earpiece. “I told you he’d kill this.”

And, unfortunately, Torres really was killing it. Torres seemed to be afflicted with the same dramatic streak that Steve had, in that Steve was everyone’s best-friend-ray-of-sunshine until shit got real. Or the mission required him to play some shady underworld super-assassin dealer, apparently.

“I heard he malfunctioned with Zemo,” unidentified baddie said cautiously. “I heard the programming had been washed out.”

Torres reached over to cuff Bucky against the back of the head. “Does he look deprogrammed? Do you think I’d be standing here if he was deprogrammed?”

Bucky had to fight not to let a glare slide over to Torres. He kept his eyes and his grimace set straight ahead. He’d feel better if there was a rifle in his hands.

“It’s not my fault Baron Zemo didn’t have the balls to control the Soldier. I assume that won’t be a problem for you. But, hey, I could be wrong. In which case, I’ll just take him back. Putting him on ice is easier the less time he’s out.”

“I’m glad he never decides to be such a shit with me,” Sam said. The bad guy said something else and Bucky fully tuned it out. “Hey, Barnes,” Sam said in his ear. “What’re you wearing?” he teased. Bucky’s jaw jumped. “One day, we’re gonna see how quickly I can get all that tac-gear off of you. Or maybe just the top half. The rest of you looks damn good in black.”

Bucky bit the side of his tongue, listened to the asshole across the room talk about not being able to communicate to lapsed partners since he only spoke English, about wanting to send a message, about how many languages the Soldier knew and if he talked while breaking bones.

“Do you think we do better undressing each other on the jet or off of it. Sure, there’s turbulence, but we also have all that adrenaline pushing us on. Besides, I know you like things hard. You wouldn’t like me so much if you didn’t.”

“Soldier?” Torres said at his side. “A sample of your voice.”

“ I’m gonna throw my partner across that table as soon as we kick all your asses ,” he said in Russian. “ He gets pretty fucking quiet when he’s getting dicked down well. It’s actually the only time he shuts up. ”

The hapless moron across the room looked delighted. “What about French?”

“ You’d think getting him down on his knees would work better but it never has for me. He’s always gotta have the last word in edgewise. Lengthwise, as it may be. No fuckin’ hair to grab onto either. You’ve just gotta listen to him .”

“Spanish?”

“ Probably won’t stop in here. I’ll drag him back to our jet and do it all over again. Or let him do it to me. I’m really not picky when it comes to him. Especially not when he’s wearing the uniform he is right now. I like getting it off of him as much as I like how it looks on him .”

“ Damn, dude, I speak Spanish ,” Torres hissed back in Spanish. “ Spare my ears, please .”

The arms-idiot grinned like a kid on Christmas. “Yeah, that’ll do. Your money’s in here,” he said, sliding a briefcase across the floor.

“Ready?” Sam asked in the ear piece.

“ We never speak of it again ,” Bucky said to Torres. “ If you tell him, I’ll drop your ass in Siberia. ”

“Go get ‘em, tiger,” Torres said, gesturing over to the other man. Bucky went and got them, Sam coming down through a skylight and Torres taking care of the guards behind them.

“I was thinking about getting my own place down here,” Sam said. “Even if it’s just a one bedroom or something. You know, for when Buck’s here too.”

“Tu vas bouleverser les garçons,” Sarah answered. [You'll upset the boys]

“Huh?” Bucky asked, looking up from toying with a remote control airplane that had an unfortunate run-in with a tree.

“They’re still not in French classes?” Sam asked. “Isn’t AJ old enough?”

“He’s taking Spanish instead.”

“Traitor,” Sam said easily. “Cela n'a pas besoin d'être codé.” [This doesn't need to be encoded]

“Votre vie sexuelle fait.” [Your sex life does]

“Ha! Comme si.” [Ha! As if]

“Wait, you two know French?” Bucky asked. The airplane had been thoroughly forgotten.

“Sure, it’s one of two languages offered at our high school,” Sarah said. “Sam was obsessed with learning Creole so not only did he take French, he took AP French. And scored a five on the test. Hey, aren’t you a polyglot, technically?”

“What?” Bucky asked as dawning horror unleashed a flood of embarrassment through him. And, well, a bunch of other feelings too, which would require French to say aloud, apparently. He packed those away.

“I don’t know if there are qualifications, but I speak a few languages,” Sam agreed and he finally looked over at Bucky with a smirk. “English, French. A little Spanish. The Air Force gave us Russian lessons. I picked up Arabic overseas.”

Fuck, Bucky though. Merde. Maldita sea. Черт побери.

“He absorbs languages like a sponge,” Sarah said to Bucky. “AJ is pretty similar,” she added towards Sam. “His teacher says he’s the best in the class.”

“Of course he is,” Sam said. “He’s a Wilson.”

A timer went off and Sarah muttered lightly under her breath. “I’ve got to run and grab Cass from school. Can you stay here and get AJ off the bus?” she asked, already grabbing her purse and heading for the door.

“Bye, Sarah,” Bucky called after her before rounding on Sam as the door shut.

“Hey, you never asked,” Sam defended, leaning back against the counter. “And it never sounded like you wanted an answer when you were serenading me in French. Gotta wonder why you’ve got Russian poetry memorized though--Hey!” Sam yelped as Bucky crossed the living room to the kitchen and stood between his legs, hands on either side of his body on the counter.

“Ты должен был сказать мне раньше,” he breathed. Sam shivered against him. [You should have told me sooner]

“Pourquoi?” he asked, like he was in any way innocent. [Why?]

Bucky brushed his mouth along Sam’s neck, felt his pulse jump at the contact. “Tu sais ce que ça me fait,” he murmured. [You know what it does to me]

“Languages?” Sam asked as his hand found the small of Bucky’s back and then the rest of his spine, up to his shoulders, the seam of his metal arm, his ribs.

“You showin’ off,” Bucky corrected.

Sam hummed because he did know that. “It was more fun to watch you think you were getting away with something. You get real sweet when you think I can’t hear.”

Bucky nipped at his collarbone and Sam gasped out a breath, almost let it convince him to leave Bucky there, but eventually pushed him away. “I was serious about getting our own place. I will never emotionally recover if one of the kids walks in on me making out with you. I’m supposed to be typifying standards.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and pinched Sam’s side. “You’re an asshole.”

“Yeah, but a smart one,” Sam said with a grin. “Which is apparently your type.

And, dammit, it was.

“By the way,” he added, “Clint taught me ASL, so I know what you tell him about me too.”

Bucky groaned and threw himself back over the couch.

[rons-hermiones]

Come Find Me

Come Find Me

by rons-hermiones

Summary: Unplanned, Hermione is forced to spend Christmas at the Burrow due to her grandmother falling very ill. After being ignored by Hermione for weeks, Ron is determined to show her how much she means to him. Just before he gets the chance to tell her, Bellatrix Lestrange shows up with other plans for Hermione. Can Ron get to her before it's too late? (Ron/Hermione Half-Blood Prince AU)

Rating: M for language & dark themes in later chapters.

Chapter Nine

Soon after breakfast Hermione disappeared back to Ginny’s room, she traded in her flannel pants for sweats. Keeping on her navy jumper, she threw on a warm cloak from her trunk and snuck into the garden. 

Despite the cold, the outdoors were refreshing. Something about being outside just calmed her, helped clear her head a bit. 

Slumping against her new favorite spot, an old oak tree, she pulled out the very book she’s kept to herself for weeks. Hermione begins to read it, eyes skimming the same passages over and over, jotting down important points in her notebook. 

Like usual, she was so engrossed in her task at hand, she failed to notice someone walking toward her. 

“Bonjour mon chèri.” Fleur’s smooth voice announces, seemingly floating over to Hermione through the breeze. 

At first the brunette jumps at the surprise, having been tense lately, but soon she relaxes. Fleur was just about the only person she was willing to talk to these days. 

Like Hermione, she had been feeling out of place, trying to find her footing. And sure they were in two completely different situations, one being engaged to a Weasley, the other pining after one, but it was oddly comforting to not feel so alone. 

“Bonjour Fleur, comment allez-vous?” Another bonus, is that for whatever reason, the blonde reminded her eerily of her grandmother. 

Maybe it was because they both lived out their days in France and Hermione was trying to cling onto anything when it came to her Gran as of late, but Fleur’s presence allowed her to think of the woman without feeling sad. To just remember her how she is, a kind, loving woman. 

“Bonne.” She smiles, Hermione just now notices the blanket in her hand, “I’ve been sent on a mission to keep you warm!” She giggles, subtly nodding to the window. 

Hermione looks over to find Ron standing there watching them, but as soon as her eye catches him, he drops the curtain like he was never there. 

“Oh, I’m fine.” She tells the woman, quickly closing her journal and book. 

“Well, I was given very serious orders that I get this quilt to you.” Then, she drops on the grass next to the younger girl. 

She grits her teeth, “you can tell whoever sent you that if they want me to have that, they should’ve come themselves.” And she doesn’t even know why she said it, Hermione has in fact been avoiding Ron. 

“I said the same.” The blonde states, “but you seem to make poor Ronald rather nervous.” 

Hermione remains silent as she begins to pick at the quilt Fleur’s laid over them. 

“I know what happened.” The older girl states after a moment. 

Her eyes snapped to Fleur’s blue ones, “you do?” She sounds strangled. 

Curtly, the blue eyed woman nodded, “of course. Ronald writes Bill about any chance he can and Bill can only offer so much advice about girls.”

She scoffed before she could help it, “yeah, pretty girls like you, and Lavender Brown, or even,” 

Fleur cut her off, “they were all about you mon chèri.” 

At this a twisted laugh left Hermione’s throat. 

“No je jure!” She exclaimed, “Every night Bill comes to bed and reads his letters, he suggested I should join him to practice some English. At first it helped, but now I am invested!” 

“Nice to know my life is entertainment, Fleur.” Hermione teased with a small smile. 

“No, I didn’t mean it like that!” She defended, but then noticed the smile on the younger girls face, “alright well, it is entertaining. Anyway, if Ronald knew I read them or am telling you about it, he’d surely die from embarrassment.” 

In turn, the witch just scrunches her brow, imploring the woman to go on. 

Fleur clears her throat and sits up, “Oh Bill!” She starts in her best English accent and Ron impression, stifling a laugh from Hermione, “Almost died again tonight! Hermione saved me, again! She is brilliant, oh Bill,” she gasps dramatically, “I need something to get her for Christmas, but she’s already perfect! What do I do? Please write.” 

“No way.” Hermione laughs at Fleur’s impression and at the dramatic recap. 

“I swear it! Recently his letters have been a lot more, how do you say?” She pauses, “pathetic.” 

“Go on then.” Hermione encourages liking the amusement of Fleur’s performance as Ron, as well as the additional information. 

“Bill I am a,” she thinks for the exact word, “a tosser! A right tosser!” Hermione laughs, that was something Ron would say, “I have messed up terribly, Hermione, she’ll never speak to me again and I can’t blame her.” 

Suddenly, Hermione’s brown eyes go wide as Fleur goes on, this time dropping back to her normal voice, speaking softly, “It’s so hard without her and I would give anything to make things right.” She finished. 

The brunette's vision began to blur, “he really wrote that?” She asked hoarsely. 

In turn the French woman nodded, “every word.” 

A tear slipped down Hermione’s cheek at the knowledge. Knowing Ron missed her too made things even harder. She doesn’t think she has it in him to talk things out and go back to how things were. She’s too scared to be hurt again, she doesn’t know if she’ll survive. 

“Look Hermione,” she sighs sadly, “I understand that things between you and Ron are complicated and that you are hurt. We all see that, he sees it more than anyone, and he’s been beating himself over it since.” 

“Fleur, I,” she begins to protest. 

“I am not saying you should forgive him just like that, what I’m telling you is that he knows he’s hurt you and it’s killing him. Just give him a chance mon chèrie.” 

She contemplates this for a few moments. Her heart aches for Ron. It’s kind of backwards that she feels bad because he’s aching for how he hurt her, and she feels bad about it. It’s like she just can’t scrub him out of her life, no matter how much she thinks he wants her gone, she knows that’s not the case. 

And Fleur’s right, she isn’t ready to forgive him, she probably won’t be ready to for a long time, but she is willing to take a step with him. To hear him out and just try and understand, but when the time is right. 

“Okay.” She says simply, wiping at her eyes with her wrists. 

The blonde plants a warm kiss on her bushy hair and moves to stand up. 

“Stay warm.” She flashes her a small smile as she works her way back into the house. 

“Fleur!” She calls before she can help herself. 

The French woman turns eyes wide with curiosity. 

“Not that I’m not grateful, but why did you tell me?” Hermione just needed to know. 

Again a smile sat on her pretty face, “because us girls, we need to look out for each other, especially here,” she gestured to the Burrow where eight men were currently residing, “you and I especially.” Subtly hinting that the only two other women were Weasley’s themselves. 

A small smile now stretched on Hermione’s lips, “thank you Fleur.” 

And with a wink the blonde walked back into the house knowing if she and Ron got through this, one day Hermione would surely be her sister. 

...

“Fleur’s been out there a long time, what do you reckon they’re talking about?” Ron asked, still looming by the window. 

“I dunno, you.” Harry shrugged over his Quidditch magazine. 

“Hardy har.” Ron shot back sarcastically. 

“Have you figured out what you’re gonna do tomorrow, with your gift and all?” He asked casually. 

“How’d you hear about that!” Ron bellowed embarrassed. 

The chosen one dropped his magazine to his lap, eyeing his friend, “the whole house knows by now, except Hermione.” He shrugged. 

“I’m gonna hex the bollocks off Bill.” 

“Wasn’t Bill, it was Charlie.” The green eyed boy corrected. 

Ron rolled his eyes, “even better.”

“Well,” Harry drawled, “Ginny told me Hermione’s trunk is overflowing with gifts.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. 

The ginger shook his head, “doubt she got me anything mate, not unless it’s puking pastilles, you know, without the purple end.” 

“Oi, that’s my best mate you’re going on about, don’t you doubt for a second that she wouldn’t get you anything.” He said annoyed with Ron’s lack of faith. 

Weasley said nothing and continued to poke his head out the window, quickly jumping away when Hermione’s brown eyes found his. 

“You and Hermione may not be speaking but she does care. I reckon that’s the problem, that she cares too much.” 

He drops his hand from where they’re clutching the tattered drapes, “I know that Harry.” Ron says defeatedly. 

“You seem to be forgetting.” He sits up, “I know for a fact she’d die for you Ron, even now, even when you two aren’t speaking.” Harry states. 

Ferociously, the red head shakes his head, “don’t say things like that. I don’t wanna think about that.” His response was reaching that of when Fred made his Death Eater joke yesterday. 

Sensing his best friend's rising temper, he quickly averts the subject, “so when are you gonna give her it? The gift.” 

Ron shrugs, his initial plan was to give it to her privately, explain everything behind it, but as Christmas closed in he grew more nervous. “Leave it under the tree?” His voice is high and squeaky. 

“Ron,” the dark haired boy grumbled, “again my knowledge about girls is limited, especially when trying to think about Hermione like that.” He squirmed, “But I think if you put this much into the gift, you might as well explain why.” 

“It’s not easy.” He admits quietly, plopping onto the couch, “it wasn’t easy telling you, or Ginny, or even breaking up with Lavender.” 

Harry shakes his head, “I think that’s the whole point Ron, if things were easy then we wouldn’t know how much we wanted them.” He said quietly, silently reflecting on his own wishes. 

“Harry Potter,” Ron said after a moment, “when did you get so poetic?” He teased. 

In response the chosen one laughed and chucked his magazine at the gingers head. 

“I reckon I’m rather tired of watching some tosser feel sorry about himself.” 

“Who ever could you mean Potter?” He joked. 

“Hmm, tall, red hair, blue eyes, I think he’s Gryffindor keeper. What’s his name? Roger? Rupert?” He suddenly sounds a lot like Slughorn. 

“Shove it.” He chuckled, “I don’t even know what I’d say.” Ron commented. 

Harry sat up and went to the edge of the couch cushion, scooting closer, “pretend I’m Hermione.” 

His face scrunches, “what? No! That’s bloody weird.” 

“Come on Ron! You need all the help you can get. I don’t think anyone can handle this from the two of you anymore.” The chosen one encourages. 

From the rare good mood Harry seems to be in Ron complies. 

“Hermione, would you please,” he notices Harry watching him, “can’t you like... look away?” His friend rolled his eyes and kept staring at Ron, “would you please come outside with me, I’d like to give you something.” 

“No Ronald!” Harry shrieked in his best Hermione voice. 

“Harry what the hell? You’re supposed to make this easy!” Ron countered. 

“Well would she?” The dark haired boy asked. 

“Good point,” the ginger agreed, clearing his throat, “anyway, it would really mean a lot to me and I’d like to talk to you.” He tried entering the act again. 

“Oh so now you want to talk?” The Boy-Who-Lived asked, impersonating his best friend quite poorly. 

“Harry.” He groans. 

“Fine, fine.” He stops, “let’s talk.” 

Averting his blue eyes from green ones, he envisions Hermione somewhere in the room, “I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am for hurting you. I know that it won’t fix anything, but I’m through with Lavender, we should’ve never been together. Not when it was hurting you and you don’t have to tell me why, I knew it was, so I’m sorry. I really am, I just hope you can find it in yourself to consider forgiving me. I’ll be here, however long it takes.” He rambles out, momentarily forgetting Harry was even there. 

“Is this when we snog?” The chosen one says, interrupting the daze. 

“Oh shove off.” He grunted back annoyed. 

“I thought you did good Ron, I’m sure you’ll have to account for at least two interruptions, but, I think it’s a start.” Harry’s voice is now serious. 

“And that’s all I’m asking for, a start.” He clears up. 

“Well as long as you buck up tomorrow, that’s what you’ll get.” 

Before Ron can even answer, Harry’s green eyes find the window. Abruptly, Weasley turns and panics. 

“Fleur’s coming back! Act casual.” He jumped to the couch and acted as if he were napping, leaving a laughing Potter. 

The door soon opened as Fleur appeared, “Bonjour boys.” 

“Oh hey there Fleur, didn’t even notice you came in.” The redhead states, causing Harry to chuckle even more. 

The blonde rolled her eyes, knowing what he was doing, “you know Ronald,” she began, too casual for his liking, “I’ve been told by someone, that next time you’re to give them something you should do it yourself.” Obviously she was referring to the blanket, but Ron’s mind jumped to the gift in his room. 

“I told him the same!” Harry called happily in agreement. 

“Oui, smart boy.” She praised me. 

“Alright, alright, I get it. I swear the next thing I need to give Hermione will come directly from my hands. No one else’s.” He promises. 

Fleur stares at him for a moment before a grin stretches across her face, “good Ron, for a moment I was worried you were a, what was it? A right tosser.” She says before leaving the room. 

For a moment he’s left shocked by her words, wondering why she’d say such a thing. Then suddenly, his mind flashed to how he closed every single letter to Bill: A right tosser, Ron. 

“Oh Merlin,” he grumbled red as a tomato, “Bill!” He bellows as Fleur’s giggles float from the steps.

[jasontoddsjuicythighs]

i finished crooked kingdom yesterday and here are some Thoughts ™️: 

matthias deserved better

i’m so pissed

the book was great but

fuck

my child

ughhhh

i’m so frustrated

especially about how he died???

it wasn’t protecting his friends or in a battle or anything

it was just

his past

i’m emotional

@lbardugo why

moving on

(actually i’m never gonna recover from this)

the angst!!!! the fluff!!!

angst w matthias’ death, obvi

but also wylan!!!

his father legit tried to kill him and i’m getting mad todoroki touya vibes from him

i mean??? the mom is literally in a mental hospital???

he leaves home and joins a gang of thieves and murderers???

it’s all connected

anyway

the wesper

“maybe i missed your stupid face” crying in the club rn

when they were at the hospital w wylan's mom

jesper kissing kuwei was something i saw coming but still didn’t like

but he stays with wylan in ketterdam!!

and wylan trusts him with money!!!

and accepts jesper's grisha powers!!!

and he reconciles with his father!!!!!

(can u tell i love jesper??)

kaz forgave him i’m so happy

“tell jesper he’s missed around the slat”

speaking of the devil

his development???

getting close to inej??

holding her hand???

i’m telling you i screamed

I LEGIT SCREAMED

when he and jes are arguing and he calls him jordie

ouch

also his and nina’s friendship never fails to make me smile

it’s so weird but i love it

inej and jesper’s friendship!!!

they came up with “scheming face”!!

icons

but honestly kanej killed me

kaz changed her bandages!!!

and found her parents!!!

and inej promised to cut out pekka’s heart!!

for him!!

and he was so worried for her when she was in sweet reef!!

and she didn’t let him scout van eck’s house with her bc she knew he needed to rest!!!!

i-

kaz beating up a gang by himself, dead tired and with a limp >>>> any other piece of mob-related literature in history

matthias, jesper and kuwei were so funny at the graveyard lmao

“ghosts!!” – the dime lions

nina’s power was

whew

and the way @lbardugo described her withdrawl??

when she raised the dead to fight the dime lions and then saved inej??

when she controlled the bones at the tavern??

mere days after taking a drug that almost killed her and still suffering from withdrawl???

whoever says she isn’t strong is clearly insane

when matthias died and she held his body :((((

i cried

my poor children didn’t deserve this

(she says about people older than her)

the cave scene!!!!!

tears. so many tears.

matthias went through so much character development and was ready to go to ravka with her

and was starting to unlearn all his racist beliefs

and boom

dead

i’m diving into fanfiction after this

kuwei is such a little shit i love him

still mad he kissed jesper though

the ravkans!!!!

zoya!!!

genya!!!!

NIKOLAI!!

leigh: “strumhond-”

me: *screaming*

i love how he basically told kaz who he was minutes after meeting him

it was interesting seeing the dregs and the ravkans in one room

the ravkans may be some of the most powerful people in the world

but the dregs are literal thieves and cool-blooded murderers

it was an interesting contrast

when the council of tides appeared in public for the first time in 25 years to threaten a teenage gang boss and he went “fuck u but u can’t stop me from doing what i want”

legend

jan van eck got what he deserved (finally!!)

his face when wylan was "reading" was priceless

he was a colossal twat, i'm glad he's out of the picture

i kinda liked alys

she was a bit dumb

but lovable

colm fahey was amazing

we did not deserve him

i think that’s about it

i’m off to read kos

byeee

[isitgintimeyet]

Road To The Aisles

AO3

Previous

Thanks for your patience as we get to the end of this story, couple more chapters to go and I’m hitting some serious writer’s block. I’m getting there, but slowly!!

Thanks to @wickedgoodbooks, @happytoobserve, @mo-nighean-rouge for their support.

23. A Hectic Enterprise

Phoebe: (her mobile phone rings) Oh, it's my wedding planner. She's driving me crazy! (she answers) Hello... Hey, ok, stop screaming! Ok? So, halibut. All right, so salmon, either way. I don't-I don't... it doesn't matter to me!

Friends

Claire was roused from sleep by a persistent squeaking close to her left ear. Opening one eye, she was greeted by a big grin from William, his hedgehog firmly clasped in his fist. An aroma of dirty nappy filled the air.

“Morning, precious,” Claire said croakily.

William babbled in delight and pushed the hedgehog even closer to her ear.

“Not so close, lovie.” Claire sniffed. “Jamie, someone ‘round here needs a clean bottom…. and what time is it? I can’t be late. We have so much to do. I’m meant to be meeting Mrs. Crook… and the caterers… and the florist is coming. And we have the rehearsal this afternoon at the church, so Geillis and Dougal need to have arrived before then —“

“Dinna fash. It’s no’ even seven yet.” Jamie stopped rifling through a suitcase and turned around to face Claire. “I heard William stirring and jes’ thought I’d bring him in tae say hello before getting him cleaned up. I ken we’ve a lot tae do.”

William suddenly launched himself forward from his sitting position onto Claire’s chest. Laughing, Claire brought her arms around to cuddle the baby. Jamie stood still for a moment, just watching as she rolled William onto his back and began tickling him. William erupted into fits of helpless chuckles. Jamie put down the nappy cream and moved back to bed. What difference would five minutes make?

Jamie lay down on top of the covers and joined in, gently biting William’s toes through the fleecy sleepsuit. His eyes met Claire’s as a wave of pure joy washed over him.

“I canna wait fer tomorrow,” he whispered.

“Me neither.”

“Dadadada,” William babbled as he rolled back towards Claire and grabbed a handful of her curls.

“Hear that?” Jamie spoke proudly. “He said dada, he called me dada.”

“I think you’ll find he actually called me dada. But we can be working on it… together.”

*******

By the time Claire had showered and dressed, Mrs Crook had arrived and was busy feeding William his porridge. The baby smacked his lips greedily between mouthfuls, trying to grab the spoon from Mrs. Crook’s hand.

“He certainly likes his food,” Mrs.Crook said as Claire planted a kiss on her cheek. “Jes’ like his da.”

Claire poured herself a cup of tea and joined them at the table. “Where is his father?”

“Och, we dinna ken, do we, ma wee puddin’?”

Spooning the dregs of the porridge into William’s mouth, Mrs. Crook then handed him the spoon.

“Jamie went out a few minutes ago wi’ Brian. They didna say where.”

Having discovered the spoon contained no more food, William pushed his bottom lip out in a sulk. His mood was lightened somewhat as he discovered the tympanic qualities of the spoon, enthusiastically banging it on the tray of the high chair.

“You are a noisy little tyke, aren’t you?”

“Dadadada”

“Oh William, you have to remember. Say that when your da is actually here,”

Claire lifted William out of the high chair, still tightly clutching his spoon.

“Did ye take a wee keek at the marquee when ye arrived?”

“No, it was dark by the time we got here. Let me just get a jacket on William and then why don’t we both go and have a look?”

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

Claire hitched William more securely on her hip and looked around the marquee… the cavernous marquee… the cavernous, unfinished marquee. Stacks of chairs were stored in one corner, tables in another. Several large hampers had been dumped on top of a makeshift platform. The structural steel poles stood grey and unadorned. Claire turned to Mrs. Crook, dismay clearly etched on her face.

“It’s nowhere near ready, Mrs. C, is it?”

“Ah, dinna fash, Claire. They’re on the way now. Ye’ll see, by this evening, ye willna be able tae recognise the place. Trust me, I’ve seen this every year wi’ the Hallowe’en party. It’ll be grand. I’ll be away and wait fer them in the yard.”

After Mrs. Crook had left, Claire wandered around trying, and failing, to imagine the finished decor. She had faith in the event planners, up to a point,  but this seemed too much even for them.

“Yoohoo.”

Geillis appeared from behind a stack of chairs and looked around. “I like what ye’ve done with the place. Kind of workhouse chic meets brutal minimalism.”

She kissed Claire’s cheek and ruffled William’s hair.

“Geillis! We weren’t expecting you until later. How early did you get up? And where’s Dougal?”

“Och, he’s faffing about with the car, trying to park it so it doesna get scratched by any of yer comings and goings. And, for yer information, we drove up yesterday,” she unstacked a chair, placed it in the middle of the floor and sat down.

“Weel, I was sae inspired by yer Jenny’s story the other week. Ye ken, the one about the highland warrior and the serving wench. We decided tae drive up yesterday, find a wee glen and try it fer ourselves.”

“It worked a treat,” Geillis winked. “And—“

“Hello, ye in here?”

To Claire’s relief, Geillis immediately halted her, no doubt overly detailed, story as Dougal sauntered into the marquee. Whilst not quite as tall or as broad as Jamie, and at least twenty years older, Claire recognised there was a certain tough quality about him. He would definitely have made a good warrior, fighting the redcoats.

“Morning, Claire,” Dougal pecked her cheek. “And who do we have here?”

He scooped William out of Claire’s arms. She glanced across at Geillis, who gave a small uncertain smile.

William looked momentarily surprised by this stranger but relaxed against his shoulder.

“Da—“ he began.

Claire shot him a warning look. “What have I said, William? Save that for your da.”

William put his thumb in his mouth and proceeded to tap the spoon he was still holding against the side of Dougal’s head.

“William, no! Sorry, Dougal.”

To the baby’s disgust, Claire prised the spoon from his tightly clenched fist. He let out a wail of dissatisfaction, only quietening as he heard his father’s voice coming into the marquee.

“Ah, Geillis, Dougal. Good tae see ye. Fancy a coffee? Ma sister and her family have jes’ arrived too.”

Jamie took the fidgeting baby from Dougal as they walked back to the house.

“Are you not worried about the state of the marquee?” Claire whispered to Jamie.

“Och, no. It’ll be fine. I saw the vans pulling up as I came in. Trust me, Sassenach. Ye’ll see.”

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

The old stone church had been the focus of Fraser family worship for many generations, as various plaques and stone engravings bore testament to, and was an intrinsic part of Jamie’s memories. It was here that he had been christened. Although that was obviously not one of his memories, he still cherished the photograph taken by the font of himself in his father’s arms while his mother wrangled an unhappy toddler Jenny. It was here that Jenny married Ian, and her children were christened, too. And in less happy times, it was here that his mother had been lain to rest.

So, it had always been important for him to marry here. When Claire had willingly suggested Lallybroch as their wedding venue, he had been both thrilled and touched by her enthusiasm for his family home and traditions. He tried not to think about the possible battle looming over any suggestion of William being christened here.

The priest greeted them in the doorway and escorted them down the aisle towards the altar, explaining the order of service and their roles tomorrow. A noise in the porch indicated the arrival of Ian, Geillis, Jenny and Wee Jamie.

“Da and Murtagh are looking after Maggie and William.” Jenny explained.

“Aye, and Dougal offered to help them.” Geillis added with an exaggerated  eye roll.

Wee Jamie pulled on his mother’s hand and whispered loudly. “Where are all the people, ye ken? The people what watch us. There’s no-one sitting on the benches.”

Jenny pursed her lips in an effort not to laugh. “This isna the wedding, Jamie. It’s a rehearsal, a practice fer tomorrow, so ye all ken what tae do.”

Wee Jamie breathed a loud sigh of relief. “That’s good ‘cos I havena got the rings, nor ma kilt.”

Jamie felt the butterflies building in his stomach as the priest positioned himself and Ian at the front and then instructed Claire, Geillis and his nephew on walking formally down the aisle. Jenny hovered, anxious for Wee Jamie, but she had no need for worry. Her son strode down the aisle in front of Claire, his tongue peeking out from between his lips in concentration as he held his arms in front of his body, pretending to hold a cushion.

Jamie watched as Claire approached with measured paces, the only sounds being the footsteps on the hard floor tiles. He found himself holding his breath as she drew closer, until…

“Oh, poo,” Wee Jamie said in a loud voice, the word echoing around the stone walls. “I forget which way tae go now.”

“Sorry, Father.” Jenny quickly apologised. “Jamie, apologise to Father Michael for saying that word.”

“Sorry, Father,” Wee Jamie repeated. “But we say it all the time at home, Da sings a song about poo tae Maggie. He says it’s no’ a bad word.”

Jenny glared at her son as Jamie and Ian dissolved into fits of laughter. “Aye, it’s no’ swearing but we dinna say it in the kirk, OK?”

“Weel, I think we’re about done now fer today. We all ken what we’ve tae do, and,” the priest looked hard at Wee Jamie. “And what we’ve no’ tae do tomorrow.”

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

The sun was beginning to set as they made their way back to Lallybroch. Mrs. Crook had already left for the day, with plans for a ‘shampoo and set’ at the local hairdressers before a good night’s sleep.

Despite an invitation for Geillis and Dougal to join them for a family dinner,  Geillis graciously declined. Claire wasn’t sure if Geillis was worried about the proximity of so many babies and small children giving Dougal more paternal thoughts, or if Geillis had some thoughts of her own of a less pure nature to share with Dougal. With a promise of an early return to Lallybroch, Claire bade farewell to the couple.

Jamie had momentarily disappeared. Claire supposed he was keen to reclaim his son from Brian and Murtagh. She turned and walked across the gravel forecourt to the kitchen door. A whistle made her turn around. Jamie stood on the makeshift path leading to the marquee.

“Fancy a quick keek at it now?” He asked.

“Or maybe I should wait ‘til they’ve finished in the morning. I don’t want to be thinking about it’s unfinished state tonight.”

“Oh, come on. A quick look.”

He held out his hand and led her into the marquee.

Jamie had obviously crept in and switched on a couple of lights on the small platform stage. Claire looked around in amazement. Though dimly lit, the transformation from that morning was clear. In front of the stage, a dance floor had been laid. The circular tables were in place, each adorned with a pristine white tablecloth and gauzy russet runner. A posy vase in the centre of each table stood ready for the simple sprigs of autumn leaves and berries to be added. The chairs reflected the colour scheme with white covers and russet bows.

One corner of the marquee was occupied by a bar, not yet stocked. Empty pedestals were scattered around, waiting for the florist’s artistry the following morning. The steel poles were now elegantly covered in white and russet fabric entwined with fairy lights.

“Still worried about this place?” Jamie asked.

Claire shook her head. “No, it’s going to look magical.”

“I kent it would, jes’ needs the finishing touches in the morning.”

They stood quietly for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts. Claire stood on tip toes and kissed Jamie’s cheek, his bristles rough against her lips.

“What was that fer?”

“Oh, this… you… William… your family… everything.”

“Nae regrets? Even after all that’s happened this year?”

“Not a single one.”

Jamie stooped and returned the kiss.

“Thank ye, Sassenach. I love ye.”

Back outside, Claire turned towards the house. Jamie gently pulled her in the opposite direction.

“Oh, do you not want to get back to William?” Claire enquired.

“Och, William will be fine fer a wee while longer. He’ll be having a grand time wi’ Da and Murtagh. No, seeing as how ye are banishing me from yer bed tonight and I canna see ye ‘til the kirk, I jes’ wanted a few minutes alone wi’ ye.”

Jamie stopped in a corner of the garden. “Remember this place, Sassenach ? Nearly this time last year?”

“The Hallowe’en party. Of course, We escaped up here to watch the fireworks. You were Harry Potter.”

“Aye and ye were the sexiest witch I’d ever seen…that dress and those stockings... wi’ yer skin all pale and glowing in the moonlight. When I laid ye down on the blanket and ye opened herself tae me and I could hear yer moans and sighs, weel, I kent then that ye were mine fer always… and I was yers.”

Claire wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his head to hers. She kissed him gently before parting his lips with her tongue, lightly caressing his mouth. Jamie responded eagerly, tongues entwining, bodies pressed tightly together. He could feel Claire’s moans catch in her throat. He traced a path of kisses from her mouth to that sweet spot behind her ear…

“Jamie… Claire… are ye there? Da says d’ye fancy a wee nip afore dinner? And Murtagh says he canna face another dirty nappy, sae ye’re going tae have tae see tae yer son… right now.” Jenny called from the bottom of the path.

Jamie and Claire broke apart.

“We’d better go in then.”

“Christ, woman, what have ye done tae me?” Jamie panted. “Ye’ve got me all riled up… let me wait a moment until I’m… weel, er, more composed.”

Claire laughed. “Sorry. But can you believe that was only a year ago? So much has happened, so many changes… William, living together, now marriage.”

“But there’s one thing that hasna changed, Sassenach. And that’s how much I love ye. So, Mrs Soon-tae-be-Fraser, shall we join the family?”

“Yes, Jamie, I’d love to. Let’s join our family.”

[unicyclehippo]

Jester's gone when they wake up.

‘Beau?’

The other girl tenses visibly and it is a matter of time spent together that allows Jester to see what she does to take note of herself and the things around her: shoulders flexing to test the bed—in this case, vine-and-rock; hands clenching into fists in readiness; a release of breath it had taken some time for Jester to learn sends Beau’s ki out in a very minor burst—she had been caught by it once as she had leaned over Beau, intent on drawing on her face, and it had been a strange kind of shock for Beau’s eyes to flash open and already be fixed directly on her. Beau must catalogue Caleb beside her and Fjord’s arm under her neck, Frumpkin and Nott curled up close because when she sits up and stands, her movements are graceful and never come close to jostling any of them.

‘Jester?’ she calls back. Pulls her goggles down over her eyes, which magnify behind them. For a moment, Beau blinks owlishly around at the exterior of the dome before finding Jester standing just beyond it. ‘Hey. What are you doin’ out there? Didn’t you get slashed up by a massive fuckin’ tree cat last time we were in a place like this?’

Beau steps out with her regardless of the note of worry in her voice; the closer she gets, the more Jester realises the worry isn’t for the cats—it’s for her. Jester. Beau’s eyes are fixed on her and the way Jester’s fingers twist and twist and twist her rings upon her fingers.

‘I haven’t seen any cats. Except Frumpkin.’

‘Eh, he doesn’t count,’ Beau says, waves her hand. She stops a few paces away.

‘Beau, that’s rude!’

‘Oh - uh,’

‘He’s a fey king,’ Jester chides, starts to laugh. And then the irony of that joke, that lie, catches up to her and her throat closes tight around the sound.

Beau’s face had cleared with the joke but then Jester croaks her laugh and she gets concerned again. She scratches at her shoulder. ‘Um. I’ll apologise to Frumpkin if he calls me out about it.’

‘Good, good.’

A moment, then,

‘Jes?’

‘Beau?’

They each say one another’s name in the same moment and then stop, waiting for the other to speak. Their apologies break at the same time too, and their huffed laughter, and then finally Beau lifts her hand and puts it fully over her own mouth. Lifts her brows, widens her eyes comically wide, as if to say, See? I can’t possibly talk now.

Jester smiles. Turns the rings on her thumb. ‘I—was gonna ask, um, and you can say no if you want because you’ve had kinda a rough couple days and,’ Jester bites her lip when Beau’s hand drops. But the other girl doesn’t talk. She folds her arms and cocks her head to the side like Jester is a thief or a criminal babbling away and Beau is reading her. When Jester’s words slow, Beau nods for her to continue. ‘I was wondering - hoping, really? That you could take me through that meditation again. It was... it was nice. Calming,’ she says much more softly.

From the way Beau’s head shifts the smallest bit, as if she had been looking at the nimbus of her, whatever surrounds her, and now she sees the core of Jester herself.

Jester continues to talk, because Beau isn’t and she isn’t moving either.

‘I had never done that before and you know, you’re really good at it, have you ever taught people before? Oh my gosh, Beau, have you ever taught little monks? Do they come to the Soul as, like, babies? Or are they all -‘ Jester’s eyes widen as she realises what she was about to say.

‘Kidnapped like me?’ Beau suggests, voice sounding like it has dropped an octave. The words drag out rough, as does the chuckle that follows.

‘...Ya. Sorry.’

‘Nah, it’s all good.’

‘It’s not, Beau! It was shitty of him, of both of them,’

‘This coming from Miss Why Not Forgive Your Dad?’ They both still suddenly, each surprised by the words. Beau grimaces faintly. ‘Sorry. Besides, I kinda meant - it’s fine for you to talk about it. Not that it happened.’

‘Though it did bring you to me. All of us, I mean.’

Beau nods. She tilts her head just so and suddenly Jester can’t see her eyes for the deep shadows; it sends a pang of regret through her, and mild annoyance because she’s pretty sure Beau knows exactly what she’s doing to hide her face and that’s not fair.

‘Anyway,’ Beau says, not chipper but firmly, as though setting them back on the path. ‘You want to meditate?’

‘Oh. Ya.’

‘Okay.’ Beau shrugs her acceptance. ‘We can mediate elsewhere but I think the hut is safer. No guarantee we won’t fall asleep this time and we shouldn’t be out in the open for that. Not this out in the open anyway.’

Beau turns and leads the way back to the hut. Jester has to keep her eyes on the forest floor—it isn’t anything like it had been walking with the Traveller, where the vines bent and warped, grew and shrunk to his design. The jungle floor is knitted and laced with the Wildmother’s intricate weave and if Jester isn’t careful, she’ll break an ankle in it.

‘Where’s your favourite place to mediate?’

Jester watches as, ahead of her, Beau’s step falters. It’s as though she locks up tight for a moment and has to prompt her body into function once more, her foot coming down slightly louder than before.

A twig snaps.

They catch their breath, glance about to see if there are any hungry creatures about. But the jungle—beyond the faint flutter of wings and the drone of many insects—is quiet.

It is broken by a single quiet word. ‘Nicodranas.’

‘Huh?’

‘My favourite place to mediate. Nicodranas.’

Jester slows as they arrive at the hut. Everyone still looks asleep and if they aren’t, well, they could still hear outside of the dome. It just feels more private to be outside, somehow.

‘Really?’

‘Mhm.’

‘Huh.’

‘Never seen so much blue before,’ Beau says, the words faintly garbled by her stepping through the dome. Not enough that Jester can’t understand.

‘You liked the ocean?’

Beau considers the question, arranging herself on the floor of the hut where she can sit and not on someone else. Jester sits beside her. It’s cramped, their thighs and hips pressed together, but it’ll do fine, Beau tells her.

‘Yeah. Nothin’ like that in - in Kamordah. The water there’ll kill you, so,’

‘The ocean has a couple teeth too,’ Jester points out.

‘That’s true. Very true.’

Beau settled into a comfortable pose, talks to her quietly for a short while as she gets Jester to focus on her breathing, on feeling it move through her body. Feeling, noting, disregarding the itching sensation of her legs falling numb.

‘Beau?’

‘You’re supposed to be focused on breathing.’

‘I am, look.’ Jester breathes in and out, more obviously than she needs to. Smiles when she hears Beau snort. ‘What’s your favourite colour?’

‘What’s yours?’

‘I asked you first.’

‘I asked you second,’ Beau counters. It would be petulant, which would delight Jester, except for the fact that she sounds uncomfortable. Jester opens her eyes and lets them skate over the furrow between Beau’s brows, the new tension in her shoulders and clenched hands. The way she cricks her neck and her jaw tics before she spits, ‘Blue.’

‘You said green, though. Before? Yesterday?’

Beau shrugs. ‘You didn’t get me with the spell. I didn’t have to tell the truth.’

‘But that means you lied,’ Jester points out. ‘Just because you could?’

Beau’s hand settles on her wrist at the first hint of a wobble in Jester’s voice. She turns toward her, boots scratching in the dirt, and leans in so they can speak more quietly. The goggles let her see but Jester wishes she didn’t need them—wishes she could see Beau’s eyes unimpeded—and reaches up to lift them off. She gestures imperiously for the huts dim light to grow ever so slightly, which it does. Beau helps remove the goggles when they catch on her headband, squints against the sudden light.

‘It wasn’t you,’ Beau says softly.

‘You just like to lie? That’s cool and fun, I guess,’ Jester says, and her voice wobbles the words almost away from sense.

‘No, no, I don’t. I’m not - like that anymore.’ Beau sounds genuinely hurt so Jester flips her hand so she’s holding Beau’s. ‘I just—I dunno. It’s always been green. I loved the valleys and the forests because they were nothing like shitville Kamordah, and I look good in green, and -‘ Her hand goes up to the new jade necklace.

‘Right. Right, right, right.’

‘Why do you wanna know about that anyway?’

‘Oh I don’t know,’ Jester shrugs. ‘Curious, I guess?’

Beau is silent for a bit. Then, ‘Okay.’

Jester finds the strangle hold on her throat tighten somewhat—Beau doesn’t care, Beau doesn’t ask because she doesn’t care, and maybe because Jester is such a good liar now that she can’t tell—but she lets the thoughts and the sensation out on the next breath.

Sucks another in.

Glancing sideways to her friend, Jester finds Beau watching—finds Beau’s face open and gentle and waiting. Peaceful. Like Jester could tell her anything and it wouldn’t flummox her at all.

‘Does this hell you be wise and stuff? Think better?’

‘It helps some people, sure.’

‘Does it help you?’

Beau hesitates. ‘Sometimes,’ she says, which isn’t much of an answer. ‘There’s charms and stuff that meditation helps me counter. Like, I’m more familiar with the patterns of my thoughts and when people try to - to pull them off course, it’s harder.’

‘Huh.’

‘But sometimes I can’t close out my thoughts and fighting is better.’

‘But it hurts.’

‘So do my thoughts, sometimes,’ Beau mutters.

Jester doesn’t think she was supposed to hear it. But she did. So she squeezes Beau’s hand tight and leans her weight into Beau’s shoulder.

‘Mine are just a lot,’ she says. It’s true but it’s a lie as well, and sometimes those are Jester’s favourite statements. Delicate, balanced, and funny only if you know both sides of the joke. ‘I think about whether Toya is singing still and if Caliana is safe and if Pride’s Call has a bunch of lion people living there—‘

‘Why would -‘

‘—and about the big bird in the tree and if it hates us or if it was like oh hey those people were really cool and one of them was a leaf the whole time, which they gotta love right, because they live in a tree?’

‘Probably?’

‘And I think about my mama sometimes,’ Jester confesses, ‘and my dad and Vandren, Fjord’s kind of dad, and your dad,’

‘Wow. We all have daddy issues, huh?’

‘I don’t think Yasha does?’

‘Hmm, well, there’s time yet.’

Beau says it so casually, so well painted with cynicism, that Jester snorts. Claps a hand over her face, mortified. She can’t help but bathe in the amusement, the warm regard that positively shines out of Beau’s eyes when she smiles Jester’s way.

‘Do you wanna try some more?’ Beau asks her, and it’s gentle like she knows there’s more on Jester’s mind, like she knows that’s just what’s on the surface.

‘Ya. If you don’t mind.’

‘Nah. I don’t mind. It’ll help me sleep too.’

‘Okay.’

It’s maybe not perfect meditation practice, but Beau doesn’t let go of her hand.

[artificialqueens]

Lemon's Misadventures in Dating, Chapter 3 (Lemon x Everyone) - Mermelada

A/N Hi everyone, I’ve been sitting on this chapter for a wee while but couldn’t quite get it right, so I hope this will do! Lots of love to you all!

As soon as Lemon had arrived home after her date with Kyne – at 9 o’clock the following morning – she flopped onto her bed and checked her phone. She opened the app to be greeted with a number of new messages.

[08:48] Hope you got home safe baby, please try not to fall in love with me now xx

The first one she read, from Kyne, made her chuckle, she’d actually had a really, REALLY good time last night. It turned out that there was actually a very easy way to get the girl to stop talking. Kyne had every reason to be cocky, and Lemon hadn’t been made to feel so good for a very long time. She had even managed to go a couple of hours without thinking of her. Speaking of her, they still hadn’t matched, which was definitely for the best, as Lemon didn’t think she could stand the inescapable mutual awkwardness if they did. But then did that mean that Juice had swiped left on her? Deciding to stop the mental tennis before it got out of hand, she pulled up the bottom message on her list, from yesterday.

[16:04] Bonjour hi, Miss Lemon! Tu parles français? Or am I needing to practice my English? :-) 

Rita. From her profile, she looked every bit the no-shit-taking dom top with a major mommy’s little girl kink, but her message was kind of sweet. The fact she had even bothered to check what language Lemon spoke was cute, she supposed, but she crossed her fingers that Rita had an edge and wasn’t all politeness and niceties. Now that Lemon had had her first taste of Tinder hook-ups, she was ready to dive in with no fear. Well maybe just a tiny bit of fear. She quickly typed out a reply, partly assisted by the internet, and sent it off.

[09:09] I’m assuming you don’t count ‘voulez-vous coucher avec moi’ as proper French 😉

Is it completely cliché and unoriginal? Yes. Has Rita probably already received hundreds of messages saying the same thing? Yes. But I’m tired and still feeling fucked out, so it’ll do. If she likes me, she’ll bite. Hopefully for real, soon…

Following on, she finally had a reply from Kiara.

[19:20] Hi girlie! I am SO sorry for replying so late, I have been working all day and all night this week ☹️ but seeing your profile made me feel better 🙂 how are you??

Double-checking quickly in case she’d missed something important, she realised that the girl’s profile didn’t say what she did as a job, so that seemed like a good place to start.

[09:13] Don’t worry at all, hon! But I’m glad I can help 😉 I’m doing okay thanks, and u? What do you do for work? x

Is a kiss on the end too forward or too friendly, she pondered, trying to remember if she’d done the same for Rita and Kyne before her. It’s done now, I’ll soon find out, I guess!

[23:56] You’re named after the wrong fruit, because you’re definitely a fineapple

The third message was from Boa, who she must have matched with during the night. She loved it. She wanted it on a cross-stitch, framed above her bed. She’d definitely made the right choice with this girl. Now, how to match her at her own game… 

[09:15] You udderly impressed me with that one!

As soon as it had sent, Lemon was hit with a massive wave of self-doubt: what if Boa didn’t get the pun and just thought she was weird? She’d always thought she was quite funny, but what if that was all a lie? There was still time to rectify it.

[09:15] Because of the cow costume, get it?

[09:15] It’s so cute!!!

[09:16] You seem really fun 😀

[09:16] And it helps that your hot

[09:16] You’re^ 

Shit shit shitting shit, that is way overboard for a reply. What the fuck have I done? Oh dear lord, well Boa, it was nice knowing ya! I don’t blame you for blocking me and running to the hills!

Some more general swiping ensued as Lemon awaited some replies, she started aimlessly swiping again through the single ladies of Ontario.

Scarlett, 29

Within 10 miles

Hmm, she looks like she has a bit of filler in those lips but she still looks hot, I like her tattoos, and HOLY SHIT SHE’S EATING FIRE fuck yeah, okay Scarlett! I’ll take that!

Ilona, 25

Within 10 miles

Okay I love her make-up, I love her style… all her photos are selfies, does that mean she has no friends? Don’t be silly, Lem, my camera roll is full of selfies and I’m just fine. I think. Hey, Ilona!

Starzy, 38

Within 10 miles

Oh wow, she’s hot. Her bio literally says, “Call me mother”. That has to be the hottest thing I have ever read, yes please!

After a few more likes and dislikes, Kiara’s name lit up at the top of her screen. Not wanting to seem too keen, she waited a monumental thirty seconds before checking the message.

[09:22] I work on a movie set, but nothing glamorous, I help with hair and makeup. It pays my rent 🙂 I am pretty tired today but I have a deadline soon so I have to keep writing ☹️ where do you work? x

Just as she was thinking of the best way to word her current, work-less situation, a reply also came in from Rita, which Lemon accidentally clicked on sooner than she meant to, completely blowing her cool façade.

[09:25] I’ve never heard that one before…

Lemon’s heart sank at the thought of her impending rejection, but a new message arrived seconds later.

[09:25] At least look up how to say it less formally, I’m not that old!!!!

Smiling at the thought of Rita not automatically hating her – not outright rejecting her – Lemon started to type a reply, but stopped when a third message appeared.

[09:26] Mais si je dis oui, es-tu vraiment libre ce soir? ;-)

Somehow, the more Lemon stared at the words, the less sense they made. She now severely regretted passing her time in French class admiring Madame Benet’s assortment of leopard-print clothing, rather than actually learning. But there was a winky face at the end, which made her heart race, even without understanding the rest of it. Highlighting the text and taking it straight to Google, she couldn’t help but bite her lip as she got Rita’s point.

[09:30] Wee wee, madame 💛 give me a place and a time xx

As much as she may have been looking forward to a good night’s sleep tonight, she still felt the swarm of butterflies flap around her tummy at the thought of Rita’s hands on her, telling her she was a good girl… Don’t get carried away yet, dummy, save it for tonight! I need a cold shower if I’m going to survive the next few hours. Before jumping into action mode, though, the first thing Lemon needed was a nap.

Rousing awake a few hours later, she padded downstairs to make herself a sandwich and a tea, continuously checking her phone with the hope tha Rita had replied. Met with silence, she then took her time to shower, deep conditioning her golden blonde hair and shaving everywhere she could, so she could at least feel better prepared than she had yesterday. Not that a grown-up adult lady like Rita would mind, of course, but it’s all part of getting in the zone, Lemon hummed to herself as she let the water wash away any anxiety she might have had about tonight. 

She already knew what underwear she would wear: her favourite black bra with a light furry trim around the cup, and a lacy black thong. She was so sure that Rita was on the same page about how the night would end, she felt like she didn’t have to worry too much about what went over it, opting for indigo skinny jeans and a beige polo-neck. By the time she had finished her makeup, it was almost 5pm, and she still didn’t know the plan. Sitting up on her bed, contemplating how she would explain to her parents that she was spending the night out again, she once again opened the app, hoping that Rita hadn’t backed down. With still no reply, she couldn’t help the frustration which bubbled inside her, she didn’t spend so long stretching to shave the backs of her thighs for nothing! Even more discouraging was the lack of reply from Kiara… until she looked at the last message sent, and realised that she’d unwittingly left the poor girl on read.

Shit, I thought I’d replied already! That explains it… now how to explain that I’m a dancer who doesn’t dance anymore and has moved back in with my parents with no ambition to find anything else anytime soon?

[16:58] You’re a busy lady! What do you study? 😊

[16:59] I’m a dancer, currently hopping from audition to audition, hoping somebody likes me enough!

The reality was that Lemon hadn’t attended any auditions for over a month. She had tried to throw herself into her work after the break-up, but had soon realised that with a broken heart came an enormous lack of drive. She told the contemporary company she was a member of that she needed a break, and they told her to not bother coming back. So here she was, hoping that one day she’d once again wake up with a flame inside of her. Luckily, Kiara didn’t push her to expand on anything just yet.

[17:04] So a bit like Tinder then! Don’t worry, I’m sure lots of people will like you enough… in dance and Tinder!

[17:05] I study film and theatre, it’s fun 🙂 but a lot of essays to write in English which takes me forever lol

[17:06] That makes me sound like an idiot!! I promise I’m not, just Québéquoise!! 

[17:06] Are you from Toronto? 🙂

Well at least if tonight doesn’t go ahead, I’ve still got a French option for the future, she sighed, running her fingers through her hair as she thought of an answer. 

[17:08] Haha, I believe you 😉 my dad is from Portugal, but I think there are 2 year olds who speak better Portuguese than I do 🥺 

[17:08] That sounds super interesting! Your job on the side must help a bit then?

[17:08] And I am, Toronto gal born and bred! How long have you lived here?

Just as she was about to put her phone down for the evening and fall into another nap, the message she’d been waiting for finally arrived, and Lemon found herself scrambling to read it.

[17:09] Sorry, lovely Lemon, work was kicking my ass all day. Does Mado’s at 8pm work for you? X

Lemon couldn’t resist one final reply, cementing her intentions.

[17:10] Sounds great, I’m sure I can help that ass feel better 😘 see you soon!! 💛💛

A/N It’s me again, your friendly neighbourhood translator!

“Voulez-vous coucher avec moi ce soir?” - Do you want to sleep with me tonight?

“Mais si je dis oui, es-tu vraiment libre ce soir?” - But if I say yes, are you really free tonight?

[kindness-ricochets]

Grishaverse Secret Santa

@sevenofcrowss - happy Kerchmas! I hope you like your fic <3 & @beautifxl-things thank you for beta-reading!

“If you’re going to take me on holiday, take me somewhere exciting,” Jesper complained. “Take me to Caryeva in the summer.”

“Okay,” Wylan chirped, turning to give Jesper a grin. He didn’t grin like that enough—despite Jesper’s best efforts. But he looked so pleased now, blue eyes sparkling and his red-gold curls bouncing, that Jesper didn’t have the heart to grouch at him. His grin slipping a notch, Wylan stepped closer to Jesper and straightened his coat. “Are you warm enough?”

Jesper swatted Wylan’s hands away. “Stop fussing! I’m fine.”

“If you say so,” Wylan pouted. He stood on tiptoe to kiss Jesper’s cheek, then wrapped his mitten-clad hand around Jesper’s and tugged him onward. With a deeply put-upon sigh, Jesper allowed this.

The streets of the Geldin District were larger and tidier than the Barrel, less crowded, and Jesper noted the care Wylan took that the two mercher boys should make space for others. Mostly it was servants on errands. Jesper and Wylan were being irresponsible. Or rather, Wylan was. Jesper was just following his boyfriend’s lead, at the moment literally!

“Here we are!” Wylan announced. He held the door open for Jesper.

It was their first winter together and Wylan had been startled to learn that not only did Jesper not own ice skates, he had never been skating. What Jesper failed to mention was that he did not want to go skating. He assumed that since Ketterdam’s canals did not freeze, that would be the end of it.

He hadn’t anticipated how much Wylan loved skating. He hadn’t anticipated the energy, the enthusiasm, the need Wylan had to share this simple joy with Jesper, and within five minutes of hearing that Jesper had never been ice skating, Wylan was planning a holiday. And Jesper… well, Jesper didn’t have the heart to deny him when he was so excited for something. Wylan fretted and worked and worried; it was his way. They could be having a perfectly fun conversation, but if it lapsed into silence for more than five seconds, Wylan got that look in his eyes that said he was worrying again.

Jesper was less than eager to scoot around on ice with knives on his feet—it was perhaps the only activity his daredevil heart deemed too ridiculous. Yet here he was, picking up a new pair of skates because it would make Wylan smile.

“What do you think?” asked the… cobbler? Skate-maker? Jesper wasn’t sure what one called a man who made ice skates.

“Are they comfortable, Jes?” Wylan asked.

“They’re tight.”

“They’re meant to be tight.”

“Then they’re perfect,” Jesper said.

Wylan grinned, reminding Jesper why he was doing this.

“Just like you,” Jesper added. The resulting half-laugh and full blush was more than he could have asked for.

He eased the too-tight knife-shoes off his feet. As they were taken by a clerk to be packed into a box, Jesper asked, “Are you sure I shouldn’t wear them out?”

“You might yet.”

Hah! Unlikely.

“We’ll see,” Jesper said, with a grin at Wylan.

————

The Hendriks lake house was an altogether different place when one was not sneaking in under the guise of the Komedie Brute. In fact, Jesper much preferred the place when he could sweep in through the front door. He felt like himself here. He still liked cities, but in Geldin District, wearing revolvers was seen as eccentric at best, unacceptable at worst. Now his pearl-handled revolvers were at his hips where they belonged.

Yesterday after they arrived, Jesper had been curious about the place and gone to look around while Wylan settled in his mother. She was doing so much better, but Marya was still on shaky ground at times. So Jesper had taken the measure of the place, seen the outbuildings, the old graveyard, the frozen lake. He had even used his powers while he was out. There was nothing to make or shoot, so he settled for borrowing the color from a patch of bark. Not impressive, but it soothed an itch. When he swept back into the house, revolvers at his hips and coat flaring perfectly, knowing he had that zowa glow about him, Wylan's eyes nearly fell out of his head.

Today, however... today Jesper felt less enthusiastic. He felt an uncomfortable nervousness. Give him a firefight any day. A good brawl. Give him a house to scale (and a Wraith to help him, preferably). Following Wylan to the pond, Jesper felt distinctly not-brave and he did not care for it. He felt cold, too, a different sort of cold. Ketterdam had a wet, heavy cold. The cold out here was sharp without the buildings of Ketterdam to shield against the wind.

Wylan paused. There was a stone bench at the water's edge, likely a nice place to sit in spring or summer, if one were the type for sitting still. He set the bags containing their skates on the bench and turned to Jesper.

"You don't have to do this if you don't want to," Wylan said.

Jesper laughed. "That's good. I was worried you wouldn't love me," he teased.

"Don't even joke about that!" Wylan wrapped his mitten-clad hands around Jesper's and squeezed gently. "I know you're nervous."

"I am not," Jesper lied. When Wylan's only response was a solemn, steady look, Jesper amended, "I'm a little nervous. Go on, show me you're any good. It'll make me feel better."

After a moment's hesitation, Wylan sat on the bench and traded his boots for ice skates. Unlike Jesper's shiny new skates, Wylan's were older, scuffed but still clearly well-made. He tugged hard at the laces. Once they were sufficiently strangle-tight, Wylan made his careful way to the pond. Jesper half-expected him to fall. This was Wylan. Jesper adored his merchling, but he was clear on his limitations. Things at which Wylan excelled included drawing, music, and having proper merch manners. Things at which he usually failed included... anything requiring coordination.

So Jesper watched, already prepared to step forward and scoop Wylan off the ice when he fell.

Wylan did not fall. If anything, he swooshed. He took a few unsteady scoots onto the ice, then picked up speed until he had circled twice around the lake, leaving thin scores in the otherwise smooth ice. Usually quiet, now he laughed, maybe louder than usual, maybe the sound just carried on the ice, but he laughed.

Jesper stifled a sigh. Now there was no way he was keeping off that ice. Wylan was doing that annoying thing he did again, being happy, making Jesper want to join him. Watching him move so fluidly was a surprise. He was awkward usually; of course the Kerch boy was at home on knife-shoes. What a strange culture it was.

Wylan jumped from one foot to the other, his legs stretching out. He did it again, then skated backwards towards Jesper.

"Show-off!" Jesper called.

"You know you love it," Wylan retorted.

He did, actually. Wylan's display was enough to make Jesper sit down and remove one of his boots. Cold immediately clamped onto his foot. Saints, why had he agreed to this?!

Oh. Right. Wylan was approaching with his wobbly ice-skates-on-dry-land steps, flushed and grinning. "I'll help," he said. He knelt and tightened Jesper's laces for him, wrapped the laces around his skates, and tied them tight.

"Ready?"

How could Jesper say no to that smile?

He stood... and immediately decided he was not ready. It felt just as fundamentally wrong as he expected and then some, his usually broad and solid feet balance atop something so unsteady. Jesper liked adventure, but this was a challenge he did not appreciate. Certain things ought to remain true. His feet ought to be his old reliable feet.

"I've got you!" Wylan promised, reaching out and taking Jesper's hands. "It's okay." He held on as they approached the lake. Jesper did not appreciate his wobbly steps, but he could try. For Wylan, he could try this completely unreasonable activity that only a mad Kerch could enjoy!

Wylan skated out onto the ice, completed a small circle and came back, offering his hands. Jesper tucked his mittens into Wylan's and set one skate on the frozen lake. Saints, this was not an improvement! Now he was wobbly on one foot and slippery on the other. This entire business was... unnatural.

"You're fine," Wylan told him.

Jesper moved his second foot to the ice. For one ridiculous moment, he was suspended, all his weight and balance on a knife on ice and every ounce of trust in that crazy, rosy-faced Kerch boy with that stupid beautiful smile that Jesper couldn't resist. Then he set his foot down on the ice.

"Ready?" Wylan asked.

Saints, no!

"Always."

Wylan began to skate backwards, his hands still wrapped around Jesper's, drawing him onto the frozen surface of the lake. With nothing to worry about but his balance, Jesper could admit it was a little enjoyable, the way he felt like he was gliding out over the ice. He was gliding over the ice! He heard as much as felt his skates swiping new scrapes onto the previously barely-marked surface.

Then they hit a bump and Jesper wobbled.

"I've got you," Wylan said. "You're doing great."

"I'm distracted by your pretty face," Jesper retorted.

Wylan rolled his eyes. Prettily. Distractingly.

He drew Jesper around the lake, warning before any big turns, even though Jesper was the one facing forward. His attention was more on his wobbly feet than anything else! As Wylan covered more and more frozen ground for them, though, Jesper started to enjoy this the slightest bit. He started to appreciate how it felt when the ice was smooth under his feet. Then he was gliding across the surface, gliding through the air that slid cold and clear across his face. Jesper felt a smile growing on his face and he could have fallen into the responding smile Wylan gave him.

After a second time around the lake, Wylan asked, "Are you ready for me to let go?"

Jesper wanted to scoff. It was still his instinct to say he was absolutely fine on his own, to make it a punchline that he would seem otherwise. The sweet, sparkling eyes looking up at him, though, made the promise Wylan always made. It was okay. The truth, Jesper, everything was okay.

Jesper swallowed.

"Stay close to me, Wy."

"Always."

Wylan released Jesper's hands, but he stayed in front of Jesper, his hands hovering just a few inches below Jesper's.

Jesper made it about three meters on inertia alone. Then he wobbled. A jolt of adrenaline shot through him--he was on knife-shoes, on ice, he was about to fall. Normally Jesper liked adrenaline. Normally he could do something! This time, powerless, he felt like something inside him was dropping fast.

At once Wylan's hands were back on Jesper's, steadying him again.

The only sounds were the whistling wind and the edged shush of their skates against the ice. Then Jesper nodded and Wylan lowered his hands again.

He was surprised by how his legs were starting to ache. He expected it to feel like a swift walk, but found different parts of his calves and thighs were already feeling the strain.

"Let me go on my own now," he said.

Wylan nodded and took a few quick skate-steps back, then fell into place beside Jesper.

"I'm fine," Jesper insisted. "Go show off."

"Is that what you want?" Wylan asked. "I'd hate to distract you."

Jesper laughed. "I'll manage."

"Okay."

Wylan skated off.

Jesper did manage. He wobbled and moved slowly, his hands held out from his sides for balance, but he managed. He took turns awkwardly and widely, but... he was getting this!

He risked a glance at Wylan, who was zipping across the frozen surface, continuing to surprise Jesper with his skill. This was a side to his Wylan that Jesper had never seen before. His physical confidence, that carefree smile... he was so beautiful this way. Jesper watched him glide along. He liked watching Wylan, always did, but this was something special, the way he seemed so right, the way he just knew how to move...

Jesper barely knew what was happening before the snow was rushing at him and he landed on the ground. The snow was enough to cushion the fall, though the chill did nip at his face and where it slipped between his mittens and the cuffs of his coat.

"Jesper?"

He heard Wylan skating to a halt as he picked himself up.

"I'm fine," Jesper reported. He had got himself into a seating position and held out his hands to Wylan, who helped him not so much to his feet, but to his skates.

"Do you want to go inside?"

He did a bit, but Jesper didn't want to admit it.

"One more time around the lake," he suggested.

"Only if you'll skate with me," Wylan retorted.

Jesper gave him a look. "You don't need to do that."

"I didn't think I needed to. I like skating better with you."

Jesper wasn't sure he entirely believed that, but he took Wylan's hand. They took one more round of the lake. With Wylan to steady him, Jesper risked an increased pace. He didn't take his eyes off the ice this time, following his path carefully, and he felt quite accomplished when Wylan brought them to a halt near the bench.

They traded their skates for boots. Jesper noticed Wylan wiping the blades of his skates. Wylan held out a hand for Jesper's skates and cleaned his blades, too.

"We'll carry them back out of the bags, let the leather breathe before we put them away."

Jesper nodded. He had never owned ice skates before, so he would gladly follow Wylan's advice on caring for them.

"So?" Wylan prompted.

"So," Jesper retorted. "So... skating isn't too bad."

Wylan broke into a dazzling grin, and Jesper just knew he would be skating again soon.

"You never told me you were good at a sport," Jesper only halfway teased.

Wylan nudged him with an elbow. "Oh, hush." But he was still grinning and flushed, his curls sweat-damp.

“We’ll come back tomorrow,” Jesper promised.

He was surprised to note how late it was, the sun already approaching the horizon and the air taking a more savage chill. Time really flew when you were wobbling around on your knife-shoes! It was the perfect time to head back inside, the right time of day for hot chocolate and a warm fire.

“You don’t have to do that,” Wylan objected. “Come on,” he added, standing. He offered his hand, but Jesper opted instead to put an arm around Wylan’s shoulders. Wylan settled close with his arm around Jesper’s waist.

As they headed back to the house, Jesper clarified: “I don’t know if I’ll be skating, but I’ll watch you show off.”

[shawnsorangeglasses]

The Opposition - Part 2

4.4k words

gif found on @shawn-mendes-pictures 

it’s part two and i’m shaking. I think this is a goodun.

Synopsis: Shawn is a tightly wound, Type A law student in college. For the most part, he has his life figured out and planned to the minute. Then comes Caroline, a charming Type B and his unlikely equal.

warnings: brief mention of death and sex but not necessarily in that order and not at all in detail

…

Mornings start early for Shawn. Only the finches and sparrows chirp and sing songs at this hour. No one else in the building is awake, so he can go downstairs to the common room. It's the best time to get the good coffee with little to no human interaction. Zero noise and no one to see him in his onesie.

He sits in a lounge chair, watching the sun come up over the tree line outside. The whole room gradually transitions from gray to a soft orange. The quiet is both comforting and unnatural for the busy dormitory. It’s times like this Shawn wishes he could bottle feelings to calm himself down later.

An hour later, he walks back to his hall, making sure to wave good morning to the security guard lady at the front desk.

“Shawn?”

He turns towards the direction his name came from. Kate is there, coming through the door behind another student swiping themselves in. She looks great, as usual, and it stirs something inside of him. He hates that she can still affect him this way. What’s worse is she knows it.

The dynamic is different now though since Shawn broke it off with her last summer. Now, he knows better. He’s noticed how she moves and talks when she wants something out of him. Whether she’s doing it on purpose is still something of a mystery. Sometimes it works, but not as much anymore. Even now, he wonders if his heart skips a beat because he’s still hung up or because this is technically a security breach.

“Kate,” he says, paralyzed. “What are you doing? You don’t live here.”

She continues to approach him. “Harrison didn’t tell you I’ve been trying to get a hold of you?”

Shawn swallows hard, “He told me. You should probably stop texting him, he can’t afford the data.”

“I wouldn’t have to text him if you just gave me your new number.”

Shawn bites his tongue. He wants to say he can’t afford the data charges either, but that might set her off. So he says nothing.

She shifts from one foot to the other. “How have you been?”

“Better,” he admits. He looks down at his onesie. “I’d rather not have this conversation right now, Kate.”

“Shawn, I’m trying to apologize-”

“Don’t,” he cuts her off. “You have nothing to be sorry for. We have nothing in common and I fucked up thinking we did.”

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay. That we’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” he shrugs. “I’m already over it.”

“Well maybe we can go get breakfast or something? Just you and me?”

She smiles and Shawn can feel himself softening. It easy to say whatever when she's not in front of him. Getting trapped in her icy blue eyes this time serves as a reminder that he’s without a doubt still in love. And it only makes this harder. He looks down into his mug. “I’ve already made plans with Harrison.”

Her face falls slightly. “You can’t squeeze me into your tight schedule?”

Shawn tightens his fist behind his back. "You know me. A plan is plan."

"You used to always make exceptions for me."

"Yeah well," his voice carries a little too far. Reel it back in. "That was then. We're not together anymore. If we ever were together at all."

"Don't make this sound like I didn't care about you," she shoots back.

"I don't know Kate, did you? I dropped everything for you and you never tried to be more than-," his words trailed off. That's not something to be said out loud. In front of the security guard lady.

"I know I wasn't the best to you, but I know what I want now. And I want us to try again. Can't we?"

"Don't you think that everything ends for reason, Kate?"

Kate glowers at him the way she used to when she didn’t get her way. Shawn holds eye contact, refusing to let her bend him. He takes a sip of his coffee when she finally breaks.

“Fine,” she groans. “Guess I’ll see you later.”

Hopefully not, he thinks to himself. “I’ve gotta go wake Harry up.”

Shawn doesn’t wait for her rebuttal. That last thing he wants is to be the guy caught arguing with his fling on the first floor. He lets go of a breath of air he didn’t realize he was holding in as he boards the elevator. His eyes sting and blur, making it difficult to find the right button.

...

Classes start Monday. The local news said this would be the last week of high temperatures, so Shawn made plans to go with Harrison to the mall and buy some colder weather clothing. He did try to protest waking up early on a Saturday to go shopping for coats in August, but Shawn managed to convince him by promising ice cream later. Harrison is easy to win over that way.

"Harry," he called from the other side of their dorm. "You better be ready or I'm leaving your ass here. And don't think I'll bring you something back. I will not."

“Why can’t we just order the shit online,” Harrison shouts back.

“Because we don’t want to turn into hermits.”

Shawn adjusts some out of place items on his desk before exiting his room. The dandelions he and Caroline picked yesterday are still kind of alive on top of his leather journal. The way the sunlight is coming into his room right now makes them look exceptionally yellow. He stores them in between a couple of pages and flattens the book with a dictionary. Something he saw in a movie once.

Harrison hops on one foot out of his room, tugging his sneaker onto the other foot. His t-shirt hangs around his neck. "I can't find my glasses."

Shawn stands by the front door, swinging his keys around his finger. He blinks slowly at his disoriented friend. "They're on your nose."

Harrison pats the side of his head, feeling the wire rim framing his face. "Oh. Duh." He pulls the rest of his shirt down. "Okay I'm ready."

"Alright, come on then."

Shawn double checks his pockets as they walk out. The door automatically locks behind them and they walked to the elevators.

"Wait," Harrison shouts.

Shawn nearly jumped out of his skin. "What now? You’ll wake the whole floor yelling like that."

"We gotta get Caroline."

Shawn rubs the bridge of his nose. "I didn't plan for Caroline. I planned for us."

"Oh, you with the fucking plans. She's our friend. We have to get her."

"Fine! Fine, her room is on the second floor." Shawn pushes the elevator call button. The doors open immediately. "Christ, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you were into her."

"And yet I'm not the one who knows where her dorm room is," Harrison says coolly.

Shawn shoots him a look. "Fuck off. It's not even like that."

He throws his hands up in surrender. "All I'm saying is it's really cute that you walked her back here. I just knew you would."

“Any good person would walk a woman home. It’s called being a gentleman.”

“Yeah yeah, call it what you want. I see this coming a mile away. Can’t say I blame you. She’s got that X factor. That je ne sais quoi. That secret sauce.”

“I’m gonna stop you at ‘secret sauce.’”

The skin on Shawn's face slowly turns red as he remembers the dandelions as well as the feeling of Caroline tucking them into his hair. He hasn't let anyone get that physically close since Kate. A funny, warm sensation spreads throughout his chest. He swallows it.

“Oh is that some blush I see,” Harrison teases.

"We're almost to her room, shut the fuck up."

Thankfully, Caroline’s room was one of the furthest from the elevators. It gave Shawn a minute to cool himself down. He leans on the doorframe and knocks twice. “Behave,” he warns Harrison.

He blows a raspberry. “What’s the fun in that?”

The door swings open. A tall, lanky, blonde girl stands there in an oversized shirt, brushing her teeth. “Who uh yahl,” she asks through minty foam.

“Uh, friends of Caroline,” Shawn manages to say.

“Hahng ahn,” she says, slamming the door shut. When it opens again, Caroline is in her place, excited and bright in the eyes. She’s an early bird too.

“Boys, to what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Shawn’s making me go outside,” Harrison whines. “So I need you to come for emotional support.”

Shawn rolls his eyes and they settle on Caroline. “How soon can you get ready?”

She turns and shouts, “Beth! I’m leaving!” Presumably Beth responds with a gargled “okay.” Caroline turns back to Shawn and Harrison, “Give me three minutes.”

…

The mall is as packed as one should expect it to be on the weekend at the end of summer. Shawn can hardly enjoy himself. Caroline and Harrison are cracking jokes left and right, but he stays a few steps behind, going round and round in his own head about Kate. She seemed so sincere and honest. And out of all the problems they had, she never lied to him about anything.

“Shawn,” Harrison says.

Shawn falls out of his thoughts. “Huh?”

“Where’d you go, man? I said your name like three times.”

Shawn looks between his friends' confused expressions. “S-Sorry, I was um...just thinking.”

“Okay. Well I never got to pee at the dorm so I’m going to the bathroom. Caroline’s in charge.”

Shawn looks at Caroline, who’s already shaking her head. She mouths “no I’m not” and sits down on a concrete bench. Shawn sits next to her, keeping a safe and polite distance from her hip. She seems to take this as a cue to turn to her phone.

"Sorry to drag you down here," Shawn says. "Unexpectedly."

"It's fine. I wasn't busy and I like hanging with you two."

Shawn takes a second to really look at Caroline out the corner of his eye. Enigmatic Caroline. She dressed comfortable today, like the first time he met her. She also isn't aware of him watching, as she's far too engrossed in an article on her phone. He can feel the muscles in his back starting to unravel the longer he watches her in her own little world.

"So," she starts to say, not once looking up, "any reason as to why we're at the mall this fine Saturday morning?"

"Harry needs winter clothes and if I didn't make him go today he would still be wearing tank tops in November."

Caroline doesn't say anything for a beat. Then her hand is on his sleeve. "Are you sure you’re okay? Did that stick up your ass grow branches or something?"

She says it in such a loving tone, Shawn has to laugh at the irony. "I'll be fine. We can all talk about it later."

"Well," she reclines back, surveying Shawn, "before I forget, you do look nice today."

"I thought I dressed like the dean," says Shawn.

"Oh you do, but it's not as stuffy as yesterday. This looks like you might be Harrison's and my cool dad. I'd probably roll the sleeves up though."

Shawn looks down at his cuffs. He lends an arm to Caroline. She unbuttons his right wrist and neatly rolls the fabric up to just before the bend of his elbow, then does the same to the left. Shawn squirms in his seat, unsure of how to react to her skin touching his. It really has been a while. She bites her lip, looking him over one more time. Her inky eyes dart around until they settle on his collar. “May I,” she asks.

Shawn’s eyebrows furrow. “Is all this really necessary?”

“Yes,” she unfastens the top most button, “because if I had this body, I’d be unstoppable, okay?”

Her words all but force him to compare. Caroline is by no means a model, but there’s clearly physical appeal to her body. She dresses comfortable, but just like the red dress from yesterday, she also dresses to accentuate. Much like now, she had on an oversized cardigan and a romper that did not match in anyway but still looked good on her. Every line is bold and intentional without being so obvious.

"One more thing," she says, and pushes a curl back into his hair. "What’s with you always hiding this pretty face?"

To say he doesn’t like the compliments would be untrue, but Shawn couldn’t ignore the twisty feeling in his stomach. It doesn't feel normal. None of it makes sense coming from Caroline, as if she’s speaking another language or telling him some kind of dirty secret. It puts him a compromising position between indulgence and denial. Twice each she complimented him and Harrison on the way to the mall. Harrison, of course, took it easier because he’s Harrison. Shawn nearly ran into a couple of curbs and parked crookedly.

Caroline scoots back on the bench to observe her edits. “There, now doesn’t that feel a little better?”

It does, but he isn't about to admit it outright. Shawn clears his throat. "Whatever. Quit embarrassing me."

She shakes her head. “I can’t help but feel like you’d be better adjusted if you just got laid,” she says a little too loud. A couple of younger girls walking by snicker in a huddle.

“I get l-laid enough, t-thank you very much,” Shawn stammers.

“Really? When’s the last time you got some?”

“I’m not answering that.”

A few people glance their way, either annoyed or entertained. Shawn drops his head in his hands. "You're insufferable."

“And you’re uptight.”

Harry comes out of the bathroom a few minutes later, shaking his head. "I swear people get filthier and filthier," he spits. "Toilet paper and puddles everywhere. Let’s buy these sweaters so we can go get ice cream already."

“You don’t want to at least get some real food before that,” Shawn suggests.

“It’s all going to the same place anyways,” Harrison and Caroline say at the same time. They both smile at each other.

“Wow,” Shawn scoffs. “Literal children. Both of you.”

…

They started at The North Face, but Harrison winced at too many of the price tags, so they downgraded to Banana Republic. He found some online coupons on his phone and that got him into the shopping mood. For a while, he was dragging Caroline and Shawn from store to store. Harrison had about $200 worth of clothes by the time he decided he couldn’t handle spending much else.

Now settled in the food court, Shawn sets up his own office space at the end of the table, complete with laptop and notebook. He bought Chinese for himself and Harrison while Caroline got a meatball sub. “I’ll eat in a second,” he promises when Harrison asks him to take a break. He scribbled some notes about possible laws that can be applied to an ethics court case from 1983, Bouvia v. Superior Court.

"Bro, when is that even due," Harrison asks, mouth full of orange chicken. He's curled up in the corner of the booth they chose.

"Uh," Shawn checks his syllabus, "next Friday."

Harrison leans across the table and slams his laptop shut. He points a menacing spork at him, to which Shawn folds his arms in front of his chest. "Shawn Peter Raul Mendes, stop and get something to eat."

Shawn takes a hasty bite of the eggroll from the container in front of him and retreats back into his papers. “I’ll eat in a minute.”

"Hey, this is a good time to talk about that thing," Caroline pipes up. "Remember that thing that was bothering you?"

The tip of Shawn's pencil snaps. He sighs as Kate wanders back into his headspace. Caroline worries that she may have overstepped when he doesn’t speak for a second or two. Then his gentle nod assures her that she did not.

"What thing," Harrison asks warily.

"Kate," Shawn pushes his hair out of his face, eventually resting on his hand. "She caught me downstairs this morning. Before I came to wake you up."

"Ah shit," Harrison winces.

"Nothing bad happened. She just wanted to get back together."

Harrison's eyes widen. "And you said no, right?"

"Obviously." Shawn tucks his hands between his legs. His foot taps uncontrollably under the table. "But…"

"Not the but," Harrison tugs at his hair. "But? Really?!"

Shawn doesn't say a word. He feels like a child again, wanting something he shouldn't have. Kate isn’t a bad person, but he decided a long time ago that they weren’t good for each other. She wants freedom. He wants stability. Shawn was always so sure of every decision he made in the past, but love is different. There’s never a way to plan for it.

"I don't know. Maybe I ended things too quickly."

"If you don't mind me asking, why not just see if she's ready to move on," Caroline asks. "Like find someone new?"

"You haven't met Kate," Harrison mutters through his hands. "She wants Shawn. Why? I don't know. He's a pain in my ass."

"Ditto," Shawn deadpans.

“She may be fucking gorgeous, but she’s incapable of committing. One minute she’s into lawyers. The next, she wants an art hoe. It makes me dizzy.”

“Well there’s a frat party on Friday,” Caroline offers. “I was invited and they let you bring a plus one. I’m almost certain she’ll be there.”

Shawn and Harrison’s eyes meet and they laugh right in each other's faces. “That’s a good one Caroline,” Harrison says, wiping a tear, “I almost threw up when you said frat.”

“What is so funny,” she shrugs.

“Like any of those frats would want us at their party,” Shawn says. “A snitch and a bisexual in the middle of all that? It’s a recipe for disaster.”

“Come on, Shawn and I can go, there’ll be a bunch of other hot guys, and we can see if she’s serious about him this time around.”

Shawn considers the idea. The thought of being surrounded by a bunch of drunk undergraduates nauseates him to say the least. He'd rather write twenty court case papers. However, it is a social setting filled with every single one of Kate’s types. A party is the ideal place to see if she means what she says. And no matter what his mind told him about

Harrison shakes his head. "Caroline it's a great idea in theory, but Shawn's never gonna-"

"Let's do it," Shawn blurts.

Harrison and Caroline stop themselves short. "What," they ask.

"It's insane and I hate parties, but I'll get my answer. We have a whole week to prepare. I don’t see why not, other than a few thousand ways this could go wrong. But I want to."

And there are a few thousand ways this could go wrong. Too many drinks. Too many drunk girls. Drunk angry frat guys. Drunk angry frat guys looking to start a fight with Shawn. The cops could show up. Fraternity parties are always a shit show waiting

Caroline’s arms shoot up straight in the air, “Yes!”

“But we’re doing things my way,” Shawn says, pointing a finger at her. “I make the game plan. Harrison we’ll find a way to get you in too.”

“Oh no,” Harrison laughs. “Please leave me out of this. I’d rather be surprised with that good story. That is if you two make it out alive.”

“We will,” Caroline chirps. “I’ve got a good feeling about this.”

…

Rampant knocks at the door would normally go unnoticed this time of night. Except Shawn is up late like he is every night. He's drinking coffee with an abnormal amount of sugar and creamer and immersing himself into a court case that happened decades ago. As far as anyone is concerned, staying up late on a school night to read is the most reckless he will be by himself. His first class isn't until noon so he figures this is okay for now.

So when Caroline comes knocking frantically at 1 AM, he’s wide awake on the couch.

He opens the door and the first thing he notices is her eyeglasses. The second is the tears threatening to fall down her face and how she’s out of breath. Crying doesn’t usually bother him. Mock trials can get emotional sometimes when they invite the theater students. And Kate cried often when things got bad, and they always got bad. Shawn knew how to handle crying. This was different though. For some reason, the Caroline he imagined didn't cry.

“Hey, what's-”

“I lost my sweater," she hiccups. "I-I think I left it at the mall, but I can’t remember t-taking it off. I retraced our steps for hours, but no one fucking had it. I didn't know where else to check.”

Shawn remembers that ridiculously oversized sweater. She left and forgot about it in the back seat of his car. Which makes sense, because all three of them kind of lost track of the day after the mall. It’s starting to become a running theme in the friend group. The shopping errand evolved into just another lazy Sunday and went well into the evening. After getting food in the mall, they got ice cream at a Cold Stone a few blocks away.

They sat and talked about high school and why it sucked. Where they wanted to go in the world. Who they would want to have a conversation with, dead or alive. And Caroline said her mom, who is incidentally dead. She was four when it happened so it doesn't make her too sad. Then they walked through downtown until it got too dark to be safe.

Without saying a word, Shawn pulls her into the living area by her shoulder and places a finger to his lips. She nods and takes a seat on the couch. He goes back to his bedroom.

Caroline’s sweater is exactly where he left it: neatly folded on his desk next to the leather journal. He was going to return it when he first noticed it discarded and alone in the back seat of his car, but he figured she would come back once she saw it was missing. Now he feels guilty, realizing he could have just gone down to her room on the second floor and just returned it to her hours ago.

She’s looking at all his papers scattered on the coffee table when he returns to the living room. “You’re like a real lawyer, huh,” she asks, now a bit calmer but still sniffly.

“Getting there, yes.” Shawn hands her the sweater, and it's crazy how quickly her mood changes. She exhales and buries her face in it. “You left it in my car," he explains. "I would've given it back sooner, but I thought you might come to me first. Then I forgot, which is stupid-”

He shuts up when Caroline traps him in a hug, lifting herself onto her toes. Shawn stays frozen in place for a moment before he wraps his arms around her shoulders. He doesn’t dare rest his chin on her neck. In his mind, they aren’t there yet. So he settles for rubbing her shoulders. Caroline taps his back to signal the end of the hug.

“Thank you.” She chuckles and it sounds tear-stained. “Sorry I came here bawling my eyes out in the middle.”

"It’s fine. Sorry I held onto your sweater."

"I'm just glad it's safe." She bites the inside of her lip. “And I trust you.”

"Oh."

Caroline wipes her cheeks silently with her palms. She hasn't looked him in the eye since she walked in. He looks around the room for a box of tissues on the side table and offers them to her. She only takes one for her nose.

"I have to be honest, I thought we'd have a little more time before one of us started crying in front of the other. Now I feel like I have to cry in front of you pretty soon. "

Shawn was only half hoping this would make her laugh. He never really thought of himself as funny, but it's worth a shot.

She sniffles again. "Are you trying to cheer me up?"

"Uh...no," he lies.

Caroline smirks, knowing the truth. She doesn't bother calling him out this time.

"I suppose I should ask if you're okay?"

This time she giggles. "That is what normal people do, yeah."

He shakes his head at her, then holds out his hand. "Give me your phone."

She takes it out of her back pocket and unlocks it before handing it over. The case is surprisingly practical and plain for someone with such a colorful personality. He finds her contacts and saves his number under the name "Shawn Mendes."

Caroline sniffs again. "How lame," she quips. "I'll change it later."

"Rename me whatever you want. Just please just call me the next time this happens," he says sternly.

She sends a text immediately. It says "ok."

A hush falls over them. Only Harrisons snores can be heard through the walls. Shawn rolls his eyes. Caroline snickers.

"Guess I'll leave you to your, uhm, homework?"

"Well no," Shawn peeks at the mess of papers, "just a little light reading, I guess."

Caroline's mouth twitches, like she was trying to muster a smile. Her tired eyes meet his caffeinated ones. "That's really cool, Shawn."

He folds his arms across his broad chest. "It is?"

"Yeah. You're actually into it for the career, not the money. Unlike some people."

Shawn looks down at his socks. Sometimes Caroline really is too much for him.

She's turning to leave and Shawn is starting to panic a little because he feels like he should say or do something.

"Thanks again," she mumbled.

"C-Caroline?"

She stops in between the door and its frame. For the first time in a long time, Shawn didn't think before he spoke. So silence follows. He just looks at her in the doorway. Enigmatic Caroline.

"What is it Shawn," she finally asks.

"Uh…I um, I didn't know you wore glasses."

“Oh,” she adjusts the frames on her face. “Yeah, sometimes. I try to stick to contacts.”

Then there’s nothing else to say, so she’s gone. Shawn’s left alone again in the mostly dark. He scratches his nape of his neck and wonders what the hell just happened.

“That was weak, my dude.”

Harrison leans on his bedroom door, snacking on granola. Shawn tosses a throw pillow at him.

…

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[fortheheavenssake]

💜💜 PG MM Anon 💜💜 Interpretation Collection - 7

Anon said:

You go PG!!! 😊😊😊🌸🌸🌹🐼🐼🐝🐝👍👍👍💖💖💖🌻🌻🌼🌼🌼😊😊😍😍💜💜🌹🌹🌹🌺🌺🌺💙💙💙🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌹🌹🌹❤❤❤👍👍👍👍 Violets 🌼

Anon said:

💗🌲🌞😺 hi Skippy this is for PG and JG🏡🌲🥰🥰🧚‍♀️👑👑🐱🐰🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🦋🐥🌺🌹🌼🌸💐🐿

49.

💜💜🙏🏻THANK YOU MM ANON🙏🏻💜💜

MM Anon

MM ANON (DISCLOSURES)…… A presidential doe in the head-lights/sound/ camera …… POC ?……we’re just-ice wild about Harry…… 🎼 O Island in the second son 🎼…… NO’ there’s bigger fish …… “We’re gonna need a deeper hole”………the royal black-mail…… a reluctant Mantis …… “but it’s non-bloody-profit”…… fishing for chips ……… “For the greater good dear”…… disclosure beckons.

We have an additional word today, Disclosures….is that meaning big news and the end is nearer? We have thought quite a few times the end was near. I think due the historical nature of all that has happened, continue to happen, there may be several different ‘endings’ at different times. For example we haven’t seen mm in public for quite some time, yet her PR churns out gruel as if from a Dickens novel!

A presidential doe in the head-lights/sound/ camera

Doe in the headlights Is someone caught in a state of paralyzing surprise, fear, or bewilderment. Likened to the tendency of deer to freeze in place in front of an oncoming vehicle. So the phrase lights/sound/camera are filming words, lights/camera/action. So who is the presidential doe??? MM ANON could have said deer in the headlights which is most common but she said doe as in female. Someone’s female partner has become privy to some very startling videos in which she sees her presidential partner in , l won’t say further, we all know what l am talking about. Who is the presidential person??? I am not even giving initials, l don’t want a lawsuit thank you, or worse.

POC?

Person of Color, not colour, this is the American spelling. Is this direct part of the previous clue? Than it’s blatantly obvious who is being referred to! My, oh my!

we’re just-ice wild about Harry

Old song l’m just wild about Harry, Harry’s wild about me, LOVE old songs and films! In this case, play on words is justice. In Harry working covertly overtly, my fave phrase l coined lol a few riddles ago. Or has he fallen in with the dark side and will be in criminal trouble like the rest. I believe he would never betray his granny, HMTQ. I think he has been and continues to work hard on the side of justice! He needs a red cape to fly? SuperHarry!

🎼 O Island in the second son 🎼

Dolly and Kenny, love this song too Islands in the Stream….great song and collaboration! Second Son" is a short story featuring Jack Reacher, a fictional character created by British author Jim Grant. JE brother ME is a year and a half younger therefore second son, he now inherits the Island and all its horrors. Who would want it? Bulldoze it and leave it to nature. Harry is also the second son, he has no involvement in JE, however the backers that set him up and paid for mm may well have been.

NO’ there’s bigger fish

So, PA will be left to be, there are bigger fish to fry as the phrase goes. My goodness , l can’t get the actual use of presidential doe, out of my head. Rumours for years but what all is coming to light regarding public officials, politicians, people with immense wealth?!

“We’re gonna need a deeper hole”

Again with the JAWS reference. Bigger hole to bury all the filth they are uncovering. I don’t think this is meant literally, it’s to give us an idea of just the reality of the world tilting on its axis a bit once all names are public. But even then, l am sure some will remain undisclosed.

the royal black-mail

The Royal Mail is the official post, as ours in Canada Post. So here we have it, attempts to blackmail the BRF! This all started planning years ago. Go take another peak at the photos from IG, where mm, dr and ma present Harry with news. It’s obvious in those photos! There is also yet here another colour reference, was that intentional??

a reluctant Mantis

Mantises are insects with elongated bodies may or may not have wings, but all have forelegs that are greatly enlarged and adapted for catching and gripping prey; their upright posture, while remaining stationary with forearms folded, has led to the common name praying mantis.

Mantises were considered to have supernatural powers by early civilizations, including Ancient Greece, Ancient Egypt, and Assyria. A cultural trope popular in cartoonsimagines the female mantis as a femme fatale. Mantises are among the insects most commonly kept as pets.

Well we know who our femme fatale is, however she is anything but reluctant. Who is the reluctant Mantis??

“but it’s non-bloody-profit

This is PP, anytime l see the word bloody l think of him😄. This is PP definitely referring to the Sussex Foundation and that Foundations and any link with work the royals do, is NOT FOR BLOODY OR OTHERWISE PROFIT,,

”

fishing for chips

🎣 fishing for chips, poker chips, microchips? Whose doing the fishing or is it Phishing?

“For the greater good dear”

Decisions and choices must be made for the greater good of the Monarchy even if it means family members pay deep deep consequences for behaviour. ?PA ?PH depending what happens.

disclosure beckons

Disclosure will soon be forthcoming, if l read all these clues right, this may well all be out before Prince Harry’s birthday on the 15th. The sell by date has long past, the truth all of it needs to come forth!

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦

Fantastic PG…I would like to point out PA is also a second son. This is really interesting…thank you PG! So appreciate you doing this!🙏🏻💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

Ask Skippy submission

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50.

💜💜🙏🏻PG INTERPRETATION OF MM ANON🙏🏻💜💜

Sorry it’s so late we had massive t storm at night and hail. Just able to get online a wee while ago.

MM Anon

MM ANON … a trending treasure …… “ how many bloody grey suits does one need”…… “ read this babe ,and try to sound sincere “… SS will delete the mistake …… “What do think? I’m calling it ‘A royal Pregnancy ‘…… “Yes, with Brad and Leo” George is directing …… Push commercial!!!…… “Just do it Harry!!!”……… “first f#@ing day at school” Ahhhhhh!!…… “£#@ Balmoral,and £#@& Sandringham.” 💄💋👄👠👜💍🥑🍹🍾……… tabloid revenge

💜💜🙏🏻THANK YOU MM ANON🙏🏻💜💜

A trending treasure

First day of school, DandDOC took Prince George and Princess Charlotte to school, he returning, for her, it was her very first day. My what a handsome family, Catherine looked beautiful with new haircut and colour. Our Charlotte is really growing up, her face has matured. She is a beautiful young lady, George is handsome, as we used to say, they will be heartbreakers few years from now. The photos are stunning and we thank William and Catherine so much!! For sharing this beautiful moment with the world 💜😊💜

how many bloody grey suits does one need?

We have all noticed the trend by now, old dim grey suit for any non-official appearance and well put together suit for official appearance. It’s more than a coincidence, it’s definitely PH screaming at us take note! Take note!Harry, please know we have taken note! We believe in you! We know you are covert! We love 💜🙏🏻 and pray for you!

“ read this babe ,and try to sound sincere “…

This is mm writing the script with instructions on how she wants him to read it/sound.

SS will delete the mistake

SS, Sunshine Sachs, PR company covers ills using worse ills. She is relying on them to make it all better voila. Them , using methods they allegedly employ, scare me beyond belief. Dark just got darker, and l am not referring to skin tone!

What do think? I’m calling it ‘A royal Pregnancy ‘

Oh my, has she plans for another ‘royal tour fakenancy? Oh, l couldn’t stand another sight of bump cradling, I will go stark raving mad!

“Yes, with Brad and Leo” George is directing

What is this now? She in a film role with the above named? Is this true? Or more of her fairy dust. Brad has been to rehab and has returned from the hell, that was his life with AJ, another fauxmanitarian, birthing his children and adopting in third world countries. Mm in a film with these, believe it when l don’t see it because well,@ l can’t go to movies because of my health 🤣, but seriously l wouldn’t pay a penny for that film. Will never happen.

Push commercial!!!

Pushing in the papers how much commercial flying PH actually does, this is all a distraction, every issue like this is noise, look over here, not there…please let’s look there, see what evil machinations she has continued with. SS of all , again as l said yesterday, the Nazis had an SS as well

“Just do it Harry!!!”

People want him to end it, assuming he is in charge.PH will continue until the need is no longer there, he is serving HMTQ! Remember what l said yesterday about his wedding ring, that’s no ordinary ring. Most British men, royals and friends l have there, men don’t wear wedding bands. So why does Harry? Think about it, remember what l said yesterday about that ring, it’s no ordinary ring folks!

“first f#@ing day at school” Ahhhhhh!!

Self pitying woman, jealous of a beautiful family and children, something she will never have. Catherine turned up with gorgeous new hair, looking gorgeous at 8 a.m. WOW!we love them, but how she loathes them love wins💜💜❤️💜💜

“£#@ Balmoral,and £#@& Sandringham.”

This is her opinion of these two private homes of HMTQ. These are privately owned homes, by HMTQ. This is her exact opinion because SHE HAS NEVER NOR WILL BE invited into HMTQ private residences! Full stop!

💄💋👄👠👜💍🥑🍹🍾

All gussied up and nowhere to go, what we used to say. Is this popping champagne et al getting ready for an African tour? She has no clue. Is she having a surprise interview with Ellen to air on tv?

tabloid revenge.

Tabloids and main newspapers have stopped any use of Duchess title, she is mm. There have been countless stories but SS and the behind the scenes Hollywood scheming is huge news and no amount of SS is going to make this go away. If she was hated before, oh to quote MMANON “ you ain’t seen nothing yet!”

Fantastic job PG….thank you so very much…..😊❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

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25 notes

Sep 5th, 2019

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51.

💜💜🙏🏻PG INTERPRETATION OF MM ANON🙏🏻💜💜

💜💜🙏🏻THANK YOU MM ANON🙏🏻💜💜

This late afternoon when l finally got moving l read incredulous things. I think we are finding things never thought and by an unforced on HRC’s behalf. Why come out of the shadows and tweet unveiling herself?? Thank you MM ANON and LG for your never ending work on behalf of HMTQ and British solidarity. I sense as Brexit gets closer more bizarre unexpected names will rise from the depths of the mire. God bless and keep you 🙏🏻🙏🏻💜

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦

MM Anon

MM ANON … Bumbling along …… “( no Ice in my coke”)…… embrace the crowd …… they love me…… TV ‘ it’s a cake walk …… I’m not a royal pawn…… that’s what nanny is for …… the coverage darling,the coverage. …… F#@£ those small minded Brits…… while I’m in control ……… “ But! Nobody knew …… tell SS to put out a denial …… Di knew we’re the bodies were buried ‘ and so do I!! ……🎼 welcome to the Hotel… 🎼

Bumbling along

Bumbling is acting in a confused or ineffectual way; incompetent manner. Is this how they want us to see Harry? Certainly there has been a very domineering intense effort to role switch, she as the royal , he as the plus one. Let’s be certain, Harry is not bumbling, he is in , quite literally the fight of his life, the fight for the Monarchy. The bumble dating app has aligned with Smart Works. $$$$£££££€€€for who?..

“( no Ice in my coke”)

Flying first class commercial, can’t use any substances. Playing on words to flight attendant. Poor pet, that was one major reasyfor flying private but was never given publicly as an excuse. But we’re dumb Brits/Commonwealth we would never think that!WRONG😡 not only do l think it, l know and believe it!

embrace the crowd

Oh embrace the millions of Americans who adore her and will be lining the streets to welcome her home and praise her for all her hard work! 🦗 crickets do l hear 🦗 crickets? Yep no cheers only 🦗 crickets.

they love me

She is so delusional, she really truly believes she is loved and adored in America. Most people there don’t have a clue who she is. Nor do the care.

TV ‘ it’s a cake walk

Oh my, l hope this isn’t a reference to the interview with Ellen rumour. Maybe hoping to meet with her team tonight. Now which team OS that hmmm??? HRC lives in Westchester, NY.

I’m not a royal pawn

She feels that doing anything royal, which was her chosen duty when she married , she is being used. She wants nothing to do with royalty except the fun parts with diamonds, private jets, Givenchy etc.

that’s what nanny is for

Any questions leaving amw, as he is too young and fragile to fly to Balmoral, the nanny can look after him while she is in America.

the coverage darling,the coverage.

The coverage she will get, tv camera will be on her not Serena. Tennis players as are stage actors, notoriously superstitious! I think since Serena lost the last time madam was present, l would assume the last thing she wants is a repeat of that. She has also made a very public concerted effort to remove herself from the friendship. Ie when asked what baby advice she had…you remember that if you saw that. It would not surprise me at all, if madam did this without any consultation with her ‘bestie’ or her managers.

F#@£ those small minded Brits

Her, AND HER BACKERS!!!! Have exactly that attitude about each and every British citizen and by extension Commonwealth citizen. Folks, this is way way deeper of a plot and goes to levels once thought implausible, but that tweet today, that sent it over the edge.

while I’m in control

She seems to think she has the power and control. LG is giving her a few more inches of wiggle room, let her show , l do think the tweet today brought out in public a backer no one could ever have thought. What is going on? If a foreign national marries and tries to undermine the politics of the country she is not a citizen, that is tantamount to treason.

“ But! Nobody knew

Here l shall say, nobody knew HRC was a backer. I have a strong hunch HMTQ and LG and his team know every backer. But as far as l know, nobody had even mentioned her as a possible, her husband involved with JE. Something always thought odd, how such a woman of power stood by a man who so publicly humiliated her. I still can’t, but their mutual lust for power and control supersedes anything.

tell SS to put out a denial

Is this the whole anti-nanny thing? Have them deny that? Why? When there are a zillion other issues , PR lies, just in the last week!

Di knew we’re the bodies were buried ‘ and so do I!!

She still feels she has secret info on the royal family, and maybe she does, but whatever, she is wielding it like a hammer to get her way. Let’s reassure ourselves, this is LG, working with the worlds elite services, they do not suffers fools lightly, HMTQ as well.

🎼 welcome to the Hotel… 🎼

From The Eagles Hotel California, where you can never leave, like the mob, it’s for life. The ship she has tethered herself to, is a lifetime deal, and she has been so blinded by desire for fame, she has become infamous and she will have to answer to her backers because she changed the agenda!! For selfish reasons!!

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦

Thank you so much PG! Fantastic! And the bubbling app and Smartworks.? Wow! 🙏🏻💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

I’m going to say it…I am…a dating app? I’m guessing goes deep into all kinds of things…

Ask Skippy submission

Sep 6th, 2019

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52.

Sept. 7

💜💜🙏🏻PG INTERPRETATION OF MM ANON🙏🏻💜💜

MM Anon

MM ANON … Jorges@ros… Thestarchamber… the puppet master maker…the puppet master … the puppet … the strings of PR……A Supreme Monarchy …… A future family … an American sidewinder…🎼”start spreading the news”🎼…… 🎾🎾🎾😱😱😱…… “WHAT!! Bloody New York”…… “September is a wicked month”…… hidden beneath a dress uniform.… BRIDGE-OF SIGHS.

💜💜🙏🏻THANK YOU MM ANON🙏🏻💜💜

Jorges@ros

This l can only find a fellow who works for IBM Cloud services. Might this relate to the Bumble app that our girl and her pals are so vested in!? I really do not know l am sorry.

Thestarchamber

1983 film Judge Steven Hardin is discouraged by the failures of the legal system after seeing hardened criminals go free on technicalities. Acknowledging Hardin’s perspective, his peer, Benjamin Caulfield introduces him to the Star Chamber, a secret organization that condones vigilante action in cases where justice has not been served. However, when the cabal sentences two criminals to death, and Hardin finds them falsely accused, he clashes with the powerful group.

We have long believe a cabal is behind the whole planting of mm and the plan was but she took it much further ie child, merching etc. HRC Instagram revealed her as a part of this group of backers. I feel like l am repeating myself but it’s important! We did not know this until yesterday!

the puppet master maker…the puppet master … the puppet

So what was the impetus for this sudden trip to NYC? Tennis? REALLY. SW has been publicly distancing herself and lost the last time she attended. Not a good thing. The puppet, mm, puppet master? MA,Puppet master maker HRC, GC,RB,LR? I am certain this trip suddenly was arranged by SS, l don’t believe she flew commercial because no one saw her, no photos, didn’t happen. The purpose of the trip on the surface is tennis so she will attend that. She will have had either in person, FaceTime meetings with likely, SS, lawyers, agents, her backers for Sure!!! All under the guise of watching her friend lose again. Oops!😮Hey l’m 🇨🇦,l am rooting for our girl!! The extra benefits of this trip is the recreation, sniff sniff, gulp gulp, etc you get the idea!

the strings of PR

SS is now on board. If you believed no PR before, for sure believe none now! It’s going to get really down and dirty. I pray to a God they don’t go after the Cambridges and their family!!!🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻. Be prepared for public misinformation, manipulating, lies like never before.

A Supreme Monarchy

The Monarchy has reigned supreme for over 1200 years and wants to stay that way. There is a well long planned effort to manipulate and possibly destroy it. We must stand firm in our unwavering support of HMTQ. PLease support her and her family, LG and his team in prayer.🙏🏻

A future family

Talking about adopting an African child, but l truly wonder since she did that bump cradling might she do that on this tour as well. Or might she use morning sickness as excuse to get out of an unglamorous tour?

an American sidewinder

🐍 This is definitely the Instagram by HRC yesterday revealing herself publicly as a backer. The nerve of encouraging a foreign national to interfere in the country’s political and upset the Royal procedure. The utter nerve!! The person who represents U.S. interests in the U.K. is the official U.S. Ambassador. What is she playing at. More information for LG, however he probably already knew. They are far ahead of us, knowledge wise of the facts, we know that

🎼”start spreading the news”🎼

The song New York,New York is where she is. Supposedly flew commercial, no photos or reports that l could see in scan of the paper.Did she really fly commercial? Or did SS arrange something more private? That’s just me being suspicious because l believe nothing she puts out.

🎾🎾🎾😱😱😱

Surprise at the U.S. Open. How will she present? I am guessing perfect hair, designer clothes etc etc. SS is on board now. Her public appearance will be vastly different now,,no more rats nest hair style. IMHO.

“WHAT!! Bloody New York”

Utter shock by HMTQ and PP that she has done this flight to New York. She continues to defy everything.

“September is a wicked month”

MM ANON has used this previously, sort of. August is a Wicked Month is a novel by Edna O’Brien. If you recall it’s about a woman so dissatisfied with her husband and life that she leaves for a different city. Will our madam leave be the same? No way, she is staying ‘royal’ $$$$$€€€€£££££ were it a regular person, the IRS would have been waiting and a return to the U.K. without a visa would never be allowed re-entry to the 🇬🇧. They are looking to hook bigger fish, she is a small minnow despite the damage amount she has wrought .

hidden beneath a dress uniform

Dress uniform? Whose dress uniform? I don’t recall seeing Harry or William recently. Is this reference to the kilts at Balmoral and the Highland Games?

Is this reference to SW uniform at the tennis? I just am not certain at this point what this means.

BRIDGE-OF SIGHS.

The Bridge of sighs is a bridge in Venice, Italy. The enclosed bridge is made of white limestone, has windows with stone bars, passes over the Rio di Palazzo, and connects the New Prison (Prigioni Nuove) to the interrogation rooms in the Palace. The view from the Bridge of Sighs was the last view of Venice that convicts saw before their imprisonment. The bridge’s English name was from the suggestion that prisoners would sigh at their final view of beautiful Venice through the window .

Why all upper case? Will there or has there been a lot of interrogation? Or has there been a chase since HRC unforced error of that Instagram post. Certainly obviously, this woman/situation has caused a lot of sighs, frustration, tears, anger etc.

I wonder if our Cambridges are very stressed and sighing as well. Didn’t they look splendid on the first day of school?,

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦

Thank you so very much. Great job! 🙏🏻💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

Ask Skippy submission

18 notes

Sep 7th, 2019

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💜💜💜💜💜 PG Special 💜💜💜💜💜 from Julie

Sept. 7

Anonymous asked:

Skip, Julie here. PG you have the biggest heart and an amazing ability to break down the riddles. We are truely in awe of what you give us because hopefully some of us look at the unravelled riddle and it’s like minestrone soup. Means something but where do I start. PG you look at it and go OK I can see this or that. Every clue has several ways of looking at it. Courts of law wouldn’t exist if we all interpreted the same. You get us to think and debate. You have an amazing skill we are in awe.

I have no idea what PG is apologizing for, but PG is a big reason I enjoy your site, Skippy. PG, I love your analyses. If anyone made you feel you had to apologize for anything you wrote here, I am sorry. You brighten my days. Cheers and thank you!

Dear, sweet PG: You are wonderful and smart (not whip smart, since you’re no heidiho). 😉 Thank you for all you do! Never complain; never explain. 😎 💕…Songbird

For PG 💜💜💜

You are amazing. The riddles are mostly in a fog for me, but I read your solution, and have an “ oh of course” moment. You make it so easy for the rest of us, and we know it’s a struggle for you, with your health, and love and appreciate you being here to help.

I never ever understand the riddles without your pulling them together.

With much love from the UK.💜💜💜

🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧🇬🇧

PG!!! No apologies necessary, ever! You do so much more than most of us here with the deciphering and you are top notch. Speaking for myself (and I’m sure others), I am always so happy that you tackle these and am amazed at your knowledge. Keep going – we look forward to your interpretations! xo

MM ANON …… pg ‘ darling girl stop with the beating yourself up 💜💜💜💜💜💜we love you pg …… LOVE YOU OK. …… your Bletchley Park top code breaker. 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜🇨🇦🇨🇦🇨🇦🇨🇦🇨🇦🇨🇦Much love. MM anon.

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜PG ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOCKS !! Pg we mortals love you doing what we can’t …… crack the MM ANON riddles …… so thank you for giving us a chance to go ……… OF COURSE!!! Bless 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

PG - message

PG, I’m always impressed by the connections you make or the specifics of things that I know about but in a much more general way.

Thank you.

You do a great job.

You have nothing to be apologize about in my book.

And Skippy, thank you for this. Wow, Things I never thought of.

For you dear PG! You have mail!💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

PG you rock!

Sounds like I don’t need to be here…..😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

41 notes

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💜💜💜💜💜 PG Special 💜💜💜💜💜 from PG

Sept. 7

💜💜🙏🏻Thank you all🙏🏻💜💜

Wow l am overwhelmed. No one said anything bad, it’s just me being self critical when after it’s done, l see mistakes in spelling or oh l should have seen that it’s so obvious now,

💜💜💜💜THANK YOU ALL FOR UPLIFTING ME WHEN INWAS FEELING I HAD NOT DONE IT PROPERLY BECAUSE I TAKE THIS SO SERIOUSLY 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜 God bless you all! I am truly humbled 💜💜💜💜💜💜GSTQAOBC 💜🇨🇦

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

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53.

💜💜🙏🏻PG INTERPRETATION OF MM ANON🙏🏻💜💜

💜💜🙏🏻THANK YOU MM ANON🙏🏻💜💜

MM Anon

MM ANON …… Bloomsbury NY. ……MADISON AV. …no after party …… 🎼” I’m sitting at the railway station”🎼…… “ missed you,Thank you Markus darling”……… I’m trapped …… Him!!! ‘he’s pale and stale”…… I’ll be back ‘SOON!! …… “This isn’t Downton Bloody Abbey”…… “let her stew, old thing”…… LG gave me the SP…… Duck all in a row ‘ sort off?…… “Him!!!! He’s in the $h!t”… no going back now!!

Bloomsbury NY

BLoomsbury is a part of West End London, Coventry Garden also. However it is a major publishing house, in America. I wonder if she had a meeting regarding the children’s book there had been some talk of a while ago. I also wonder if she is being offered a book deal on a more personal level, then l would think the company would be one that could afford her price tag for a book of that sort.

MADISON AV.

The main advertising businesses , PR firms run along this street in NYC,NY.

Were there meetings or representatives while she was there?

no after party

She certainly was not at all welcomed at the tennis yesterday. In fact it appeared no one spoke to her, she looked completely alone, sadly alone. When she attempted to talk to Serena’s mum she was completely ignored. They didn’t want her there, bad luck and she was. At times near tears, at times talking to herself, sad, sad. Certainly no invitations to after party since Serena lost, and l doubt she felt like a party and l especially doubt she felt like doing it with a jinx who she has been trying to extricate from friendship for some time now.

🎼” I’m sitting at the railway station”🎼

Homeward Bound, Simon &Garfunkel,, you know it, endless one nighters, performer who just wants to go home. Is she finally, seeing a bit of reality? She looked so sad and pathetic yesterday, certainly different than her last visit to New York.No half million dollar party, designers clothes, surrounded by wealthy friends etc etc. She looked a pitiful soul, unkempt hair, alone, l am sure she had security but nothing like we have seen. Does she just want to dump it all and go home? Well it’s far far too late now.

“ missed you,Thank you Markus darling”

No show, she didn’t see him at all. I don’t know if he was even in NYC. Nothing in the paper l read about MA, JM, LR, PCJ, any of her usual besties for a NYC party. I do have a feeling though, because of the massive negative results of the billion dollar baby shower, she saw friends of the down low, oh that word again, l feel twenty years ago when we said that all the time 🤣🤣🤣🤣 even abbreviated to dl , how old am L?😗😗😗😁😂😂😂😂. I am certain 110% even without photos, she saw him, or someone close at Soho, for sniff sniff sniff, gulp, gulp, gulp, aah aah aah😮😮😮😮😮😮😮. I hope that translates!

I’m trapped

She is trapped! But of her own greed and volition. She has made many many poor life choices. This one due to greed and she went beyond the original agenda. Let’s see how her return to the U.K. goes. Will she have a VISA. of course she has magical visas.

Him!!! ‘he’s pale and stale”

She wanted British male, pale and stale with£££££££££££? This reference, SORRY SIR , is DEFINITELY her reference to LG, she does not like being controlled or having rules because she thinks she’s above that. LG SIR, please continue, carry on.😁

I’ll be back ‘SOON!!

She insinuating return to America ? Or quick return to London with fresh six month VISA in hand ready to hit the ground running in SA. Oh l can hardly wait to see her on thatbtour🤣🤣😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂, if yesterday was any indication kids we are in for some great fun. SpongeMeg get ready!!!

“This isn’t Downton Bloody Abbey”

British Royal life is NOT Downton Abbey. Well it probably was at the time early 20th century. But we are 2019, expectations are there? This again given the tone and wordage comes from dear dear PP.

“let her stew, old thing”

No sympathy, no ££££€€€€$$$, she is not part of the BRF. Let her lay in the bed she made, feel the consequences of her decisions.

LG gave me the SP

LG has given the scoop , on the dl, the crack, whatever slang, Scotland we said the crack🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣Memories 🙃. So who did he give it to mm? Or MM ANON to share with us? Hey l am doing my best and today l won’t cry if l get something wrong🤨 or forget something.

Duck all in a row ‘ sort off?

So all is arranged, almost, God please🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 be she gone by Harry’s birthday the 15 th. But more importantly, let them have every duck in a perfect rom so charges stick, there is a conviction!! Or another idea, given the extremely detailed SA itinerary, which seems unusually detailed and written at this stage, maybe this means the SA tour . But l hope the first is the right answer!

“Him!!!! He’s in the $h!t”

PH, poor dear, he’s getting lots of blow back from the media. It’s all the role he’s playing, service to the Realm, HMTQ, so in that he bears the negative criticism. Let’s do remember to pray for him and HMTQ.🙏🏻

no going back now!!

We are all a product of the choices we make in our lives to most regards barring illness etc. But we all know so much that she has done, and has done since the marriage ish day. There is no turning back ever. She has danced with the devil, still is, and trying to make money and changing the agenda is a very very dangerous dance!

💜💜🙏🏻THANK YOU EVER SO MUCH MM ANON AND FOR YOUR KIND WORDS YESTERDAY🙏🏻💜💜

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦

Amazing job! Thank you dear PG!🙏🏻💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

Ask Skippy submission

4 notes

Sep 8th, 2019

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