#look at this lovesick woman someone come put her out of her misery

[eniteoepoch]

Ahh yes, a tale as old as time: When an autistic anthropologist falls in love with a dork of a neurosurgeon 🥹 Truly a match made in heaven 💜

Auri could literally listen to Grey talk about the brain forever. It’s the way he’s so expressive with his hands when he gets excited, or how halfway through an explanation he’ll forget you have no idea what a Phox2b is and has to start over and re explain respiratory rhythmogenesis, laughing at himself as he does it. But most of all, it’s the way his eyes light up when he hits a topic that’s been chewing at him- something that’s really been on his mind. It’s that spark that really hits Auri in the ol’ Heart eyes 😍

[thedysphoriadiaries]

Entry 4 - Game Time - 17 February 2023, 12:48am

Today passed without much fuss. Great, I suppose, given how I woke up from yet another dream in which I was a girl, or, at least, doing gender-affirming things like using the right washroom. TMI. Yes.

Some might say that dreams are stupid, that they don't make sense. Others say that dreams are telling of things going on in your life.

I don't know what to think. Even scarier, I don't know how to think about it.

All I know is hate, and...

I hate the fact that I'm so hopelessly attracted to girls. That, or, being hopelessly attracted to the prospect of becoming one. A part of me wishes I could be... normal, whatever that means.

I just don't get it. Someone I know underwent knee surgery, and still came out being... more positive than I am.

I've gone through nothing compared to them. Just some first-world issues called gender identity. I'm just a stupid guy who wants to be a girl.

...

It's no secret that I hate myself. I hate being everybody's rock. I was there when my brother couldn't handle himself in an abusive relationship (he was abused, emotionally). I was there when my father spat into my grandfather's face. I was there when mom threw dad's iphone into the floor, seven or so years ago, when he became depressed after an ankle injury, and couldn't work for awhile. I was there when people told me to fuck off with my “sperm guitar”. I was there when mom was stressed out with work.

...

Nobody was there. Nobody was there for me when I hit myself. I only stopped when I could not take the pain.

Nobody was there for me when I admitted I couldn't feel anything. I shut up about it. Eventually apathy becomes a blessing.

Nobody was there for me when I helped my brother out with his relationship. I went to sleep worrying about him, especially after every episode of his ex emotionally abusing him. I feared for his life; like me, he's sensitive. And she hurt him. Irreparably. I see it in his eyes, how scared he is to be vulnerable. So, I bring out his vulnerability, with Gyoza (my stuffie duck). But I digress.

Will anybody be there, for me?

Do I even want anybody there, for me?

Those words sound so foreign, that, I have to make sure I'm willing myself to say them.

Honestly, if you're reading this, go fuck yourself. I don't want you around. I just want to be alone so I can be put out of my fucking misery. Killing me would be a mercy, compared to having me be around, as everybody's rock.

I can't do this anymore.

I don't want to, anymore.

...

them: “Prioritize life! Come to us, and don't die.”

me: “Why? You've got your second-chance woman here.” (I played a support/healer character, if it explains anything.)

them: “Because we'd be in a 2v3! I don't care what binary you are in.”

That's... kinda true - whatever I identify as doesn't change the outcome of a virtual fight.

Still... it got me questioning.

And, inevitably, it all leads me down to the same question:

Why am I like this?

...

That was the same question my ex-partner asked me. In her exact words,

her: “things happened that led you to be this way”

her: “we gotta look back in time to see how that problem showed up”

me: “what if I told you...”

me: “it just happened, when I was 7?”

her: “cant be it just happened 🙃”

so...

...what happened?

I wish I knew.

Do you, for one moment, think that I'd want to keep ogling girls?

That I'd want to feel lovesick for a life that isn't mine, because of how I was born?

That I'd want to keep envying people of the opposite gender, so much so, that I'd get envy over a fucking animate flower in a fucking video game?

gosh.

...why?

What is wrong with me?

... Is the very concept of me, wrong?

[popanalysis99]

The “Yandere” Trope: Explained

“Yandere” is defined as someone who becomes violent and obsessive for someone they love or are obsessed with. Yandere is derived from the two japenese words yanderu which means insane or sick and deredere means affectionate or loving. To put in a simple manner, a yandere is someone who is lovesick, someone who has been driven to insanity by extreme obsession or love, resulting in abnormal if not violent behaviour. Yandere can be the combination of the tropes Love Makes You Crazy, Love Makes You Evil, Love Hungry and Stalker with a Crush.

Possible origin of the yandere.

One of the theories is that Yandere may have emerged as a deconstruction of the Yamato Nadeshiko archetype: a nice serene woman who puts the needs of the family and husband before her own. If Yandere is like this, she would be taken to a logical extreme and examined realistically: a sentinent induvidual put in such a position would experience emotional and mental strain. Sooner or later, she would snap, even at the slightest provocation. This realistic take is what makes the yandere so endearing to the audiences, more so than the traditional Yamato Nadeshiko. Compared with the Violently Overprotective Girlfriend, who can become violent if there love interest is in danger, but otherwise they are mentally stable.

Personality of the Yandere.

Yandere is the term used to describe crazy lovesick girls/boys. They are psychotic and jealous people who  will murder anyone close to their affection so that they could be with them alone. 

Yandere is described as someone who is lovesick, someone who is driven insane by their extreme  obsession or love, which results in abnormal or crazy behaviour, for those around them and even  themselves. The tropes such as “Love makes you crazy” and “stalker with a crush” are all combined and  taken up to eleven, turning it into a single character archetype. 

A yandere sees anyone surrounding their obsession as an enemy or threat, regardless of the gender. They  will attack people to get what they want, in some cases, really brutally. 

At first, many yanderes are introduced as normal-looking and sympathetic, but that’s because they are  interacting with the protagonist. Once the third character gets in, this is when they show their true  colors. Yandere starts being crazy. 

Though this was not always true. Some yanderes were insane and evil from the start. Why a yandere is insane can have different theories: either they were broken from a traumatic event or they were born  psychopath. Regardless, as long as they have a sick love for someone they’re a yandere.

While most yandere characters are shown to be females, there are male examples shown as well.  Compared to the “violently overprotective girlfriend/boyfriend” who goes berserk when their love  interest is hurt, but otherwise they are much more sane. In an inversion, if the admirer is crazy and tends  to be abused by the one they admire, it’s known as “mad love”.

The problem with the yandere.

The problem is that if the yandere is poorly written it can be a scrappy. But the yandere can be likable if it  has any sympathetic qualities in him/her. Otherwise, a yandere who is written to be unlikable is likely to  be a villain of a work, planning to hurt a more level-headed character a fit of blind rage simply because  their dream relationship fell apart. Another bad sign is that if he or she has erotomania, meaning they  delusionally believe that the person they love is in love with them when in reality, the person is  indifferent or wants nothing to do with them. Unrequited yandere love doesn’t end well most of them times, especially when the yandere goes of the deep end.  

Yandere examples.

Yuno Gasai from Future Diary is one of the famous examples of an Anime Yandere. She gets obsessed with the protagonist Yuki and is willing to do anything to protect him from anyone coming close to him, even if it’s his friends. Yuki isn’t a saint either in this situation as he takes advantage of Yuno’s overprotectiveness for his own personal gain. 

Alex Forrest in Fatal Attraction starts off as a successful working woman, but after having a one night affair with a married man Dan Gallagher. But she doesn’t take it well about the fact that she is a “garbage to be used and thrown off” and tries to force herself into Dan’s life. She then goes onto do psychotic things such as boil his daughter’s pet bunny, kidnap his daughter and try to kill his wife until she gets put down finally. 

Annie Wilkes from Misery is a biggest fan of the author Paul Sheldon. She kidnaps him from a car crash and traps him in her isolated cabin. She is angry when she finds out he is planning to kill off the protagonist of her favourite book and tortures him into writing her back to life, including paralyzing him and psychologically abusing him.

(tw: sexual assault and child sexual abuse)

Joe Goldberg from You and Fernando Vera from Mr. Robot represent the “entitled male yandere”. Both the men believe just because they have a connection with someone or they are soulmates with someone they are obsessed with, they believe they deserve to be with them, even if it means using violent and sadistic methods to achieve that goal.

Joe is portrayed as someone who darkly subverts the typical “nice guy” trope. He thinks of himself as a hero who is in a romantic comedy. He falls in love with a shy writer named Beck and believes he should be the one whom Beck belongs. He stalkers her, breaks into her apartment, steals her belongings as his souvenirs, kills anyone whom he sees as a danger to his relationship with Beck like Benji and Peach and finally kills Beck when she gets disgusted with his actions. And then he moves onto Love Quinn and goes back to his obsessive skills, until he finds out that Love herself is a yandere who’s been obsessed with him and has her own agency and immediately despises her.

Vera is a drug kingpin who was at first obsessed with his drug dealer Shayla, who happened to be the protagonist Elliot’s neighbour/girlfriend. When he first meets Elliot, he catches onto a connection of them dealing with depression and hating themselves. He then finds out that Elliot was the one who turned him in to the police and has Shayla killed. Months after her death, Vera immediately moves on his obsession to Elliot because of his belief in fate and what the shaman told him. He began stalking him for months and kidnapped his therapist Krista to get more information about Elliot, when he told her his idea of breaking Elliot and building him back up, it was more like a dark and twisted version of The Taming of The Shrew. When he kidnaps Elliot, he then puts him through a cycle of psychological abuse, he expresses his admiration for him and treats him nicely, he threatens to sexually assault or kill Krista and then forces him to remember his childhood trauma where his father molested him as a child, which caused the birth of Mr. Robot. At then end he then puts Elliot through the “honeymoon/care phase” where he comforts him and gives him the storm speech before Krista kills him. But unlike Joe who is a bit impulsive, Vera is a calm, manipulative and calculating Yandere who is willing to rain down doom upon anyone so that he can have Elliot all to himself.

Both Joe and Vera are obsessive yanderes who are entitled to their obsession. They try to control their obsession and try to bring them down to their level. They see them as nothing more than trophy to be won. While they are said to have tragic pasts, this doesn’t excuse the fact that they are dangerous men people need to stay away from.

Conclusion

Yandere maybe entertaining in the media, but if there were anyone like that in real life, they would be really dangerous, especially in the age of the Me Too movement, since stalking cases are illegal all over the country and a lot of victims are standing up against it. There are limits when it comes to a Yandere.

[dopescotlandwarrior]

A Hero Among Us-Chapter 8

Previous Chapters on AO3

Chapter Eight

As he had done every morning for the past sixty days Jamie grabbed the hydrometer and headed out only to turn around and return the equipment, shaking his head. He looked at the glass cylinder, “until next year then.” He placed it in the cupboard and closed the door.

It was one of those magical mornings when the fog settles around the vines so thick it swirls like cream when you walk through it. As Jamie walked into the fog he wandered where ever his feet took him. When the rising sun burned the fog away he could see the row of vines ahead and kept walking. Deep in his daydreams, his feet stopped and he looked at a hole in the ground where there should be a grapevine. He studied the crude hole with plant matter scattered around the area and thought perhaps this is what he heard last night coming back from the lake. He walked back to the barn and mounted Brimstone to ride the whole property looking for any more vandalism.

Jamie loped up on the cabins as the men were rising for the day, their pay, and the long walk back to San Francisco. There was melancholy in the air and Jamie felt it as he approached. He felt the sadness himself and would sorely miss the camaraderie of these men. Claire wanted to keep them all on the property year-round because they were like family now. She would worry about them for the next eight months. Jamie remembered holding her close for her huge heart and suggested keeping ten men through the winter. Now he amended that decision.

“I will get yer pay when the bank opens this mornin but I have a need for any who can stay on for a bit longer. Think about it and I’ll see ye all in an hour or so.”

“Misses Fraser isna feeling well today so I served her breakfast in her rooms. “ Seeing Jamie’s face she added, “tis nothin serious Mister Fraser, dinna fash.”

Jamie flew up the stairs and found Claire at the window seat looking outside. She wore her robe even though her hair was pinned up and he was confused.

“Sassenach, are ye sick lass? What can I do for ye?” He knelt in front of her looking stricken.

“It’s fine Jamie darling, just my monthlies and for me, it is three days of misery.”

Jamie blushed from his ears to where his neck met his shirt and suddenly looked immensely uncomfortable. “I, um… how…it is…not.” He took a breath and without looking at her said, “it is not discussed with men Sassenach.”

“Isn’t it?”

“No, I must see to the men.” He was gone so fast Claire had no time to utter another word. She felt strangely abandoned by his behavior. Frank never asked her about it so it was never discussed and she never felt abandoned then. She did now and curled up in bed to try to sleep.

Jamie barely touched the stairs in his haste to exit the house. He was quite unsettled about the subject being tossed about with no cloak of mystery or intent to camouflage. He had not considered what a husband does at this time each month and she was sick with it.

Claire could not sleep and returned to the window to watch Jamie walk in circles with his head down like he was thinking or angry about something. She felt strange, almost embarrassed, but didn’t know why. She had known Jamie to be the strongest, bravest man she had ever known but by the looks of him, scared shitless of menstruation. The laugh was like a burp. Quite unexpected and spontaneous and she held her mouth for a full minute. When she released it she laughed for several minutes before composing herself. My poor darling Jamie, she thought. You are no stranger to a woman’s body but you have been spared the bloody days. Well, you may not like it, but you will learn to love all of me, even the icky parts.

Ben accompanied Jamie to the bank to draw out payment for the men. On the way, Jamie told Ben about the two missing vines and hearing someone the night before.

“This could be a problem, and I’m ashamed to admit I never considered the vines would be stolen. I’m not sure how successful the transplant will be at this time of the year but you have to nip this activity immediately by any means necessary.”

Ben considered the problem and remained quiet until they returned to the vineyard where they sat on the porch and discussed the options.

“The first thing is to protect your vines starting tonight. Secondly, have your men start passing rumors of the blight in your vineyard, trees along the side of the property along the road, signs of blight on the vines until you can cut them back.”

Jamie watched Ben run down various thoughts that might help, most he had already thought of. The artificial blight and trees to hide the vines were great ideas. He needed to work fast and waved to his friend so he could get the men paid.

“I guarantee another month pay for anyone that wants to stay on. Someone stole two of the grapevines last night and that has to stop. I have good reason to keep the vines I have…” Jamie stopped and looked at the ground while he wrestled with being honest with the men. It would only take one man talking in the right circles before the wildfire spread of gossip reached London. He needed Claire to make the decision. It was her family’s money invested in this dirt and how much risk to take had to be her decision.

“I’m sorry men, I need an hour to figure this out. I know yer anxious to get into town and celebrate but I hope ye can wait a little longer.”

With that, he sprinted toward the house and half up the stairs before he remembered her monthlies and turned around. Outside he could see the men waiting and upstairs was his wife in her condition. He opened the door to their rooms and saw Claire sitting at her desk reading. His heart melted until he remembered.

“Sassenach, we have much to discuss about the men stayin on and possibly knowing…”

“I am sorry Jamie darling, but I cannot hear you,” she interrupted.

Jamie stepped inside the room but stayed near the door. “I dinna ken what to tell…”

“I must be going deaf, I still cannot hear you.”

This went on as Jamie got closer, in one-foot increments and he finally stood directly in front of her. When she looked up at him the vines went away, as did the men, this house, everything. It was just him and Claire, their bond and incurable lovesickness that he felt.

“Sassenach, I love ye so much.” He cleared his throat to break the spell. “Lass, I ken we need to keep your good fortune from those in London and I also need to tell the men why we canna lose any more vines to theft. I dinna ken what to do.” He told Claire about the stolen vines and his plan to stop any more loss. The whole time he wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her.

“I see that you may be tied up for several days to come so I will be quick with what I have to say and if you intend to get my answer you will hear me out.” She took his hand and led him to the window seat that was just wide enough for both to sit, very close together.

“I have fallen deeply in love with you James Fraser and given you my heart. I know your bravery would push you into the devil’s lair to rescue me but your actions toward me earlier hurt me and made me feel dirty. It made me question your love for me.”

Jamie gasped and reached for her hands shaking his head no. Her quivering voice almost broke him and he just wanted to hold her and tell her he was sorry.

“Women bleed every month for five days. Maybe you have been sheltered from this truth but you need to face it for what it is. Elimination of waste, not needed until I am with child. It’s just part of being a woman, your woman. Time is short, but I want you to understand that you cannot love me for three weeks of the month and treat me like a leper the fourth.”

“Claire!” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her feeling ashamed of his earlier treatment. “Ye can throw up purple vomit on me half the year and I wouldna care Sassenach. I swear, I wouldna care. I am sorry love, truly.”

Claire laughed at the purple vomit and the tension between them was broken. She touched his cheek and thanked him for loving her throughout the month.

They discussed the vine theft, the need to make the men understand why they could not fall into the hands of other growers, the fortune they represent and the need to keep this secret to their death. “Be dishonest with a Highlander, Claire, and be forever distrusted. I believe they will keep our secret and fight when they have to.”

“I agree Jamie. We have to trust them or watch our vineyard disappear in the coming months. The details are not mine to decide, good luck and God speed putting an end to this threat.”

Claire’s kiss was so sweet it made his heart hurt and when she pushed him out the door giggling, he felt like a man reprieved.

Misses Crook had brought food to the cabins so the men were kept busy eating while Jamie spoke to Claire. He approached them with renewed energy in his step. It felt good to put his trust in Highlanders.

“Thank ye for stayin. I have a story to tell ye.” The men listened with rapt attention and smiled at each other when Jamie mentioned the money they would make. “She is British, sure enough, but she has a heart of gold, an evil husband who sunk her entire dowry into this land and then died without any means for her support. I dinna fall in love with a British woman, I fell in love with Claire, and it is she who needs yer help and silence.”

Rupert yelled out, “she isna British to us Jamie boy! I pledge my silence for the lady”

“Me too.”

“Aye.”

One by one the men pledged their silence and support and Jamie told them to go to town and get drunk, get laid, get into a fight, or whatever else their heart desired. A day off was well earned but tonight, there would be men lying in wait throughout the vineyard with a bonus for any thief caught and still alive when Jamie got to them.

When the men disbanded in their usual boisterous fashion Jamie leaned against a cabin fearing his legs would buckle from relief. He rolled the dice telling the men exactly how they could reap destruction of a British woman and they rallied around him. He pushed back on the tears he felt and turned toward the house when he saw Rupert standing nearby. Jamie was quick to straighten up and put his mask on.

“Dinna worry boss, we got ye, both of ye.” He walked away knowing the gravity of the situation, feeling galvanized against the enemy. When he got to town he found Angus in a saloon shooting his mouth off about the dead vineyard he worked at and his need to go back to the city. Rupert smiled at him and joined the symphony of lies throughout the afternoon, neither man taking enough drink to be senseless. There was an important task at hand and they would be ready tonight.

Jamie walked to the house with one intention, to hold his wife and tell her all would be taken care of. He found her hanging wash with Misses Crook and he grabbed a wet shirt and watched the women. He held it up to the line and stuck pins around the line to hold it. Smiling, he let it go and the shirt fell to the ground. Claire put her arms around his waist and walked him into the house giggling. Once upstairs they fell on the bed kissing and giggling

“Jamie darling, there will be a terrible mess if we make love. Just hugging and kissing for the next week?”

He pulled her close and drifted to sleep for the afternoon knowing he would be up all night trying to catch the thief.

Jamie kissed the back of her legs from her round ass to mid-thigh. He had a pounding need and wanted to bring her with him. He could not wait to smell her sex, taste her heat, and watch her body in the throws of ecstasy. He pressed his face into the middle of her legs and lifted her thigh allowing him access to her everything. Laying his tongue flat against her clit he licked slowly, watching for movement, a sign she was coming with him. He lowered his face and pressed his tongue deep into her body, letting his fingers caress her bud softly until she rocked his tongue with her hips and moaned for him. He pulled her bud into mouth and two fingers invaded her holy space making her gasp and moan for him. Shoving her legs apart he demanded her attention with an unrelenting tongue until her felt her pull away from him moaning into her orgasm and clutching at his shoulders to pull him toward her. She flipped over to her stomach and pressed her gorgeous ass into his chest making it clear he was to take her this way. Jamie ran his hand over her globes and raised his body to her glorious offering. Fisting his cock he prepared to enter her and …

Claire turned over in Jamie’s arms and yawned in her sleep. He opened his eyes and felt one gigantic erection who’s dance card was full of Claire. He ran his hand up and down her body growling his need. When he felt Claire’s cool hand remove his from her backside he remembered, no sex for a week. Jesus Christ, he thought, what do I do with this?

It wasn’t so hard to fall back on his days living rough. He staggered to the inventory barn and brought his dream back to mind while he coaxed his body to climax. Gripping the table, eyes squeezed shut, Claire dancing naked in his mind he felt the release of old and almost cried. It was a release that left him tragically let down, but ready to work.

Half of the men were dispatched to various posts in the vineyard to keep watch until midnight and then sleep with one eye open. There was a nice bonus for any man who caught a would be thief and left him alive for Jamie. The men stayed hyper-aware of any movement in the dark and the night passed without incident. In the light of morning Jamie found two more vines gone. The site looked even more brutal with the severed tap root showing clearly about twelve inches below soil level.

“It is a tragic loss but I don’t think any of these vines can survive this kind of brutality. They didn’t get close to the graft, it’s still buried on all of them. Shameful waste. Time to up the penalty I’d say.” Ben shook his head and Jamie felt boiling anger settle in.

“Up the penalty it is.”

The next night, all the men were laying in wait as night fell. It was much colder now as autumn was fully upon them, and the men suffered.

For the second night, Jamie bedded down in the vines, praying for some idiot to yank a vine close to him. He needed a breathing thief more his next breath. At midnight he pulled his blankets around his neck and closed his eyes. In his dream he heard men shouting, his name being called and suddenly he was jerked awake knowing someone was caught.

He ran his legs near burning and finally came to a group of Highlanders and one pathetic thief jerking his head around, looking for an escape.

“He’s untouched boss!”

Jamie walked up to the man and kicked him in the solar plexus causing him to double over and struggle to breathe.

“Sorry about that, friend. Wanted yer attention. I will be takin a body part for what ye’ve done but I canna decide which one. Do ye have a preference? What was that now?” Jamie looked at the men, “ He is mute gentlemen. Give me your knife Angus.”

Jamie brought the knife close to the man’s eye and declared it was a fine night for an eye, ordering the men to hold him still. The man was screaming for them to let him go, begging Jamie to be merciful.

Jamie lowered the knife to his wrist intending to cut off his hand while the man screamed in protest. Jamie lowered the knife to his genital area and ordered the men to pull his pants down. The man howled and screamed while Jamie brought the knife closer.

“Shut yer mouth ye piss ant. Ye agreed to steal my property for someone and this is the penalty.” He grabbed the man’s manhood and raised his arm for the slice that would end his sexual existence, if not his life. He stopped and pointed the knife a hair’s breadth from his face. “Who sent ye. Tell me and leave here with ye dick, say nothin and I’m gonna cut it off and gut ye.”

After ten seconds of silence, Jamie said it was his choice and stopped the arc of his downward strike when the man screamed a name. Jamie knew it. A local grower, a settler from Germany with big money and bigger greed apparently. Tie him so he can walk. He’s gonna show us where my vines are planted and then we burn the vineyard. He looked at the scared man. “If you show me where my vines are planted, ye live, otherwise ye die.

Jamie took ten Highlanders and the bound man to the German’s vineyard. True to his word the thief took them to the stolen vines. Jamie pulled his ear to his mouth and suggested he go home and find a new job tomorrow. Say nothing and ye don’t see me again. Say somethin and I’ll find ye and kill ye in yer sleep, grabbing his balls painfully as he shoved the man forward. They heard him running away and Jamie looked at the men, “was that good?”.

It took some time for the men to gather enough kindling to spark a fire under each of the stolen vines. Before they were through, four vines were ablaze among a vineyard that was mostly dead from blight. Jamie sent a man to find a bell and ring it for all he was worth. When they saw the glow of a lamp inside the house, they left.

Jamie laid down next to his wife. She spun around wrapping her arms around his middle, feeling his wet hair on her face. He smelled so good from his quiet time in the lake with Misses Crook’s soap.

“It’s over mo ghaol. I’ve missed ye lass.” He held her, and ached for her. Sometime deep in the night, he fell asleep.

Ben smiled and shook his head during Jamie’s rendition of the story, slightly watered down for the sake of his friend. Ben was very happy that all four of the vines were on the same property and hoped the theft problem was over. They agreed the men should fan out in the woods and unclaimed land to dig up the fast-growing trees. They needed a screen to hide the vines from the road. Ben took the men out to the wildland, and like a science field trip, pointed out the target species of trees and large evergreen bushes. The men grumbled into their task, not at all happy with the new chore. Ben smiled as he walked back to the property and suggested to Jamie that a treat might be necessary for a bunch of unhappy men.

Later, Jamie found the women waxing the floor in the kitchen and mentioned the need for a special treat for sore backs and a beastly attitude. He watched the women giggle at each other conspiratorially and hoped that was a good sign. He walked to the barn to get Donus ready to ride.

Claire and Misses Crook finished the floor quickly, anxious to break out the new shipment of chocolate that was delivered this week. San Francisco had the best chocolate manufacturers in the country and Claire made good use of their healthy bank account. As Jamie did his level best to stay alive atop one demon horse, the ladies prepared cakes that oozed chocolate for the grumpy men.

Jamie walked Donus to the barn feeling like his back was broken along with his willingness to train Donus. He was done. This horse was pure evil and he just didn’t have the desire to break him anymore.

Jamie walked out of the barn and stopped at the sight of his lovely refined wife bent at the waist to serve something to the sitting Highlanders. At first, he was ready to tear into them for sitting in her presence but he watched her insist they sit down as she offered them something from her tray. He was transfixed watching her weave her spell on the rough, life-beaten Highlanders. They smiled at her and lost themselves in the treat she offered. She was amazing. Waxing floors in the afternoon with the housekeeper and serving the men in the evening. It was time for a special gift. Something she would treasure. Jamie smiled as the project came to mind.

When the fermented wine was safely sealed in oak barrels to mature, Ben announced he was leaving for a two week trip on the rails to visit friends. It was too early to cut back the vines leaving little to do but pamper his wife, and scare the shit out of her. For her surprise.

“Sassenach, walk carefully around the equipment barns, I saw a snake slither into the big barn but couldna find it inside. It’s in there somewhere so dinna fash, I’ll get him.”

Claire’s hand shot to her throat and her eyes were as large as saucers. “Heavens no I will not be going anywhere near those buildings until you kill it, Jamie.”

“Oh, and stay away from Cho, he has a bad virus, it might just carry him away.” He gave her a knowing look and cursed the man in his head for refusing to lie to Claire about the snake.

The next morning, Jamie enjoyed a rare treat sitting at the breakfast table with his wife. Claire sipped her tea and smiled coyly at her husband. She seemed shy and out of sorts today, blushing when he looked at her and keeping her eyes on her lap. He watched her and admired her gorgeous figure in her tight corset. She continued to avoid his eyes and kept her napkin near her face to dab her lips or press her forehead. Jamie was becoming the predator as his balls gained ten degrees and his mouth got dry. His pupils dilated to let more light in to watch his prey. She continued to sip, he continued to stare.

“Well, I think I will go to town this morning and fetch some items we need in the house. Misses Crook will accompany me.” She stood and Jamie materialized in front of her, blocking her passage to the door. She chuckled nervously and moved to the side to get around him, he blocked her again. Coming very close to her his hand brushed her cheek and he bent his head to within an inch of her lips.

“Sassenach, ye’re out of sorts this morning and I want to know why,” he whispered in her ear, feeling her shiver.

“Don’t be silly I have never felt better.”

Jamie grabbed her hand and pressed it to his erection. “I have a need for ye love.” He was almost purring.

Claire jumped and he saw the flush of desire on her face. That meant she was over her monthlies and they could resume the wicked pleasure they both sought. Jamie could hardly breathe thinking his wife could have a hot need for him. She tried to back away and he stopped her with his body.

“Ye need to go upstairs and receive yer husband. I want ye stripped of all this finery, naked would be best.” He watched her fill her lungs with air and look at the wall. He ran his hand up her back and promised to pull her laces slowly, with one hand, while the other touched her most sensitive places.

“When yer corset falls away I will run my tongue over every inch of ye and stop at the places I know ye love. I’m a hungry man Sassenach,” he wrapped her fingers around his bulge and felt her jump. “Do as yer told.”

Claire shot forward and up the stairs while Jamie sat and finished his tea. Misses Crook came into the kitchen with her wrap around her looking for Claire. She started toward the stairs and felt Jamie grab her hand.

“Not today Misses Crook. Yer Mistress needs to rest a bit.”

Jamie entered their rooms and looked down at a very aroused Sassenach. He smiled and held his hand out to her. When she came to him he kissed her softly and pulled the lace from one of the eyelets. He whispered into her ear telling her everything he planned to do to her. The laces came out slowly as Claire’s breathing became deeper through open lips, giving no protest to his onslaught of rough kisses and bites. When her corset fell away Jamie pulled her hairpins before running his fingers through her hair.

“I need ye naked love,” he whispered with a ragged voice. Jamie watched her closely as she pulled off her shift and laid on the bed. He feasted his eyes on her breasts and felt weak watching them bounce and move with her changing position. He pulled his jacket and shirt off, boots and pants, never looking away from her core where he imagined sweet, dripping nectar awaited his tongue. He sensed he was in dangerous territory, too long without her and too high from her arousal. Would she forgive him for taking her like the savage he was at the moment?

He moved onto the bed watching her pussy, intent on having it any way he chose. With his brain in near shutdown, he seized her hips and pulled her under him claiming her mouth with his tongue, telling her he would taste her, and she would let him and open her legs wide. She whimpered but he did not hear it, too intent on biting her nipples and kissing her breasts.

Claire pulled her knees up against his sides. She felt a hint of fear watching her husband devour her with his eyes, tasting the blood in her mouth from his crushing her lips to his. If she tried to move he grabbed her hips to prevent her. She looked in his eyes and whispered, “take me, Jamie, before I die from wanting you.”

He crashed into her body and lost himself in the explosion of energy released from two hungry lovers, starving for release, to give it and take it, hell-bent and greedy. “Open up Sassenach and let me in,” he growled. She pressed her legs open until her hips hurt and when he pounded into her unprotected clitoris he sent her reeling as her body gripped him and pulled him along with her.

In the aftermath of shared brutality, they clung to each other and panted for their lives. In the blink of an eye the savage gave way to the lover that touched her so softly, like she was a china doll that might break under his fingers, his warm mouth seeking her approval for his beastly behavior, his soft words of love for her, and his quiet request that she never hide that side of herself. He liked the carnal Sassenach, he liked her very much.

[fullmetalscullyy]

day 8 - last christmas - wham

the magic of christmas time - royai advent calender

24 days - 24 oneshots | with angst, fluff, and everything in between | both canon and au

a collection of christmas themed oneshots to celebrate royai | chapter prompts based on my favourite christmas songs

read on ao3

a crowded room, friends with tired eyes

i'm hiding from you, and your soul of ice

“I can’t fucking believe she’s here,” Roy muttered as he knocked back his whisky.

“Roy, I’m sorry, man. I had no idea she was coming.” Maes looked worriedly between Roy and the door, where Roy’s ex was being greeted cordially by Gracia. Also known as, Gracia trying to keep her busy and keep her away from Roy.

“No, it’s fine,” Roy stated bitterly, but it wasn’t directed at his friend. “She knew about this and probably came just to piss me off.” Roy took another drink. “Fuck.”

“Look, if you want to go, I won’t blame you –”

“Uncle Roy!” Maes’ daughter, Elicia screeched loudly. Roy cringed while he still faced away from the three-year-old.

“Shit,” Maes muttered out of his daughter’s earshot, because the reason for Roy’s misery probably heard Elicia’s very loud call for his name and he really didn’t want to deal with her. The breakup was still raw, and he’d come here to try and get over her, to forget. “Elicia.” Roy turned and watched as Maes intercepted smoothly, grasping his daughter underneath her arms and lifting her into his arms. “Inside voice, remember honey?”

“Oh, right,” she giggled, not bothered in the slightest. “Uncle Roy,” she grinned, her whole face lighting up. Roy watched it, feeling a pang in his chest. He loved his godchild, but he didn’t have the usual energy to interact with her today. “I haven’t seen you in forever,” she stressed, a frown appearing on her face. “Where have you been?”

“Uh, Uncle Roy has been away with work, remember?”

“Oh. Yeah. Anyway, can we go play?”

Maes glanced at the back of Roy’s head after he turned to finish the rest of his drink. “Uh –”

“Of course, princess,” Roy smiled, turning to face his adoptive niece with a wide smile. Elicia perked up and grinned, her little arms reaching out so she could be transferred from her father’s arms, to her uncle’s. “What would you like to play with first?”

“My cars!”

Roy smiled to himself, his expression softening. That was the gift he’d got her last year. “Of course, sweetie,” he replied, kissing her cheek. He glanced to his right and saw that his ex was nowhere to be seen. Letting out a relieved sigh, he took a deep breath and walked with Elicia to her bedroom.

Roy opened the door and froze when he saw someone already in the room. The woman was making Elicia’s bed, flattening out the sheet when she turned at the interruption. A surprised oh left her, obviously not expecting to see someone.

“Um, hello,” she greeted. “Hello, Elicia. I’ll get out your hair. Sorry.” Without another word, the woman left in a hurry and closed the door behind her.

“Who was that?” Roy asked, slightly confused. The Hughes’ were rich, but did they really hire a maid?

Elicia’s face lit up. “That’s my new nanny. She helps Mummy and Daddy look after me while they’re working.”

“Oh. Okay,” Roy shrugged. Obviously, they were rich enough to hire a nanny. That was unexpected.

They played together for about an hour and Roy lost himself to it as she dragged out all her toys from the box. He forgot that his ex was downstairs and the mere sight of her still made his chest hurt.

They’d been together for five years, then last Christmas he’d caught her cheating at a Christmas party. The reason she used was bullshit, trying and cover it up and worm her way out of it – underneath the mistletoe was not an excuse for making out with someone else when already in a committed, long-term relationship – but like a lovesick and hurt fool, Roy went back to her. He was a dumbass for making that decision. Things were tense, but they were working it out, until a month ago when she’d done it again and Roy had had enough. He ended it and found out she’d still been cheating with the same guy all along. Talk about kicking a man while he was down.

He'd been a fool. He knew that now. Roy had been desperate, holding onto a hope that was no longer there. It had died last year, and Roy had been too crushed that he’d turned a blind eye to it. After all, a five-year relationship was a hard thing to leave, just like that. He’d probably held on because he was too scared of life without her.

But he was better off now. He knew he was. The pain would go away and he’d be back in the game in no time.

“Elicia?” a voice called softly into the room. Roy turned mid grin, his eyes falling on the woman from before. Her blonde hair was tied back off her face, pinned up in a clip at the back of her head. Her fringe fell across to one side, reminding Roy of a bird’s wing. She looked slightly nervous as she poked her head in the room. Her eyes never met his, but he did notice the warm brown colour they held within them. Her knuckles were white on the edge of the door as she gripped it tightly.

“Yeah?” Elicia asked distractedly.

“Mum and Dad want to see you. It’s time to get something to eat.”

“Okay! Bye, bye, dolls.” Elicia bid them farewell and ran from the room, grinning up at her nanny before heading back to the party across the Hughes’ grand front hallway. Roy stood to thank the woman for letting him know, but she was already gone, the door left slightly ajar.

Roy re-entered the party and immediately spotted the reason for his discomfort. Solaris – his ex – was sitting at the table in the Hughes’ dining room, laughing and chatting with the guests, completely oblivious to the sour mood she’d put her hosts in. She looked up at an inopportune moment – when Roy was still staring at her – and offered him a small smile, a knowing look in her eyes. Before he’d have fallen over himself to get to her while she was wearing that smouldering look, but now it made him sick to his stomach. Just how many men had she aimed that look at while they were together?

No. Fuck her. Roy could do better. So much better. He turned away and ignored it, making his way over to the buffet table. He joined in behind Maes and picked up a plate, shovelling food onto it, but not completely aware of what he was picking up.

“You okay?” Maes asked, breaking Roy out of his reckless shovelling of food. He stared down at the mountain forming on his plate and paused, placing one hand on the table to steady himself.

“I don’t think so,” he replied. He was hurt. Angry, most of all, at her, but still hurt. He didn’t want her here. He knew Solaris had done it just to get to him, or to try and rekindle something between them, but Roy wasn’t desperate now. He wasn’t as stupid as he had been. He wouldn’t do that to himself.

“Take five, okay? Or however long it takes until you feel better. I’ll let Gracia know.”

“No,” Roy stated vehemently. “Just… Give me a few. Then I’ll be back.”

Maes offered him a comforting smile. “No problem, Roy.”

Taking his plate – although he didn’t know why, he’d lost his appetite – Roy left the room. His feet carried him down the hallway and into the kitchen. The room was massive, fitted with state of the art, industrial equipment that was both expensive but made both Maes’ and Gracia’s lives so much easier. Roy was always in awe of their home. He wasn’t sitting in a terrible financial position himself. He was well off, had a good job, and had a decent sized house. However, it was nothing compared to the Hughes’.

Entering the room, Roy pretty much threw his plate on the table.

A quiet, surprised, gasp sounded from somewhere in the room.

Jumping in fright himself, Roy walked around the table, rounding the corner of a protruding wall, and saw Elicia’s nanny sitting on the step in front of the door leading to their back garden. As far as Roy was aware, this door wasn’t the main exit to the house, but more a “servant’s entrance” – one the Hughes’ used to unload groceries into the house because it was quicker from their driveway.

But… Why was she sitting there?

“Hello, again,” he greeted, still recovering from his surprise. At least he’d managed to speak to her this time. He didn’t want the woman to think he was a pompous, arrogant asshole who ignored people.

“Oh, hello,” she greeted, offering him a nod before going back to eating her sandwich.

“Sorry if I gave you a fright,” he apologised sheepishly.

“No, it’s fine, you didn’t.” She was a terrible liar, Roy noticed. He also noticed that she was actively avoiding his gaze, looking like she wanted him to promptly leave, and Roy could take a hint. He wouldn’t be the best company right now anyway.

“Okay. I’ll catch you later.”

He left, grabbing his plate to find a more private spot and froze in the hallway when he spotted Solaris walking towards him.

“Hey, Roy,” she smiled, but he noticed that manipulative look in her eye that had been present last Christmas. Roy said nothing. He couldn’t. Instead, he just felt his jaw clench tightly. Any harder and his teeth would shatter. “Merry Christmas,” she smiled.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he asked.

She looked slightly taken aback, but Roy didn’t know what for. He made his feelings for her perfectly clear. “We were both invited.”

“No, I was invited. You were my plus one, but you had no right to come here tonight.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re over,” he hissed. “Or have you forgotten that?”

“Maes and Gracia are my friends too,” she stated calmly, playing him, and Roy knew it. He was too furious to care. It was time to vent and if that involved screaming and yelling at this bitch, so she’d get the hint and fuck off, then so be it. He wouldn’t be fooled by her again.

“No, they’re not, especially not now. Not after what you did.”

Solaris sighed, as if talking to a child, and that angered Roy more. “Look, Roy –”

“No,” Roy snarled quietly. He was furious, but still didn’t want others to overhear. The door to the dining room was open, and he could see people walking by it, dangerously close to overhearing them both. “We’re over. That means you get the fuck out of my life. I don’t ever want to see you again, Solaris. Stop trying to play me and manipulate me like you did before because I’m having none of it.”

Breathing hard, Roy watched as her mouth fell open then she promptly shut it with a glare. Turning on her heel and flicking her hair over her shoulder, she stalked out towards the front door ahead of them. It slammed loudly and the murmur of conversation from the dining room died down because of the loud disruption. Maes poked his head out to search, then spotted Roy. He nodded once to his friend, then turned and entered the kitchen again.

“Fuck,” he cursed loudly, kicking the heavy wood table in the middle of the room. He ran a hand through his hair agitatedly. A noise from his left caught his attention through the haze of anger. It was the sound of the door opening and closing hurriedly. From the window leading to outside, he could see the woman – Roy realised he never caught her name – hugging her sides in the freezing temperatures as she hurried past the window wearing nothing but a pair of jeans and a thin cardigan. His face fell. The thick snow on the ground kicked up as she moved, slipping once or twice in the uneven surface.

Fuck. He’d forgot she was there. He hadn’t wanted anyone to overhear that conversation, yet he’d just spoke to her two minutes ago then promptly forgotten all about the nanny. Roy groaned. That made things a hundred times more awkward for her.

Approaching the door, she’d left out of, he considered following and calling her back to apologise. Hand on the handle, he paused. The half-eaten sandwich on the plate was resting on the stone step. Roy shivered, noticing just how cold this area was. Hesitating, he decided to continue with his testing. Sitting on the step, he shivered again when the chill from the door on his back and the stone beneath his ass spread through his body. This couldn’t have been comfortable for her, so why was the woman sitting here?

The mystery plagued his mind for a moment, distracting him from Solaris, which was always welcome. He was slightly worried about Elicia’s nanny. She’d been sitting here all alone in the freezing cold. Maes and Gracia weren’t the kind of people to send “the help” away somewhere quiet to eat their dinner, out of sight and out of mind. So why had she sat in the cold? And then he’d forced her out into the cold. Shit. He needed to apologise to her, and possibly offer her a coffee or a tea to warm her up.

Roy stood and left the kitchen, his plate of food forgotten, and he headed for the only entrance the woman would probably head for – the front door.

[artificialqueens]

You're the One Thing (I Can't Get Enough Of) {Branjie}- athena2

A/N: Brooke has messed up in her and Vanessa’s relationship, but she’s going to do whatever it takes to fix it. This is for @writworm 42, who requested a fic where Brooke has messed up and makes it up to Vanessa with candlelight and looking pretty and a slow dance, and Writ is awesome and I love them so I had to. I hope it’s somewhat like what you imagined, and I hope you enjoy! Please leave some feedback if you’d like! Title from “I’ve Had the Time of My Life” from Dirty Dancing.

—

Night has fallen, a dark blue sheet over the world, when Brooke finally exits the conference room massaging her temples, ears still ringing from a board member’s yelling.

She pulls out her phone on the way to her car, stomach growling with the knowledge that she’s consumed nothing but a cup of coffee all day. 15 minutes and she’ll be home, eating dinner and kissing Vanessa—

There’s 5 voicemails and almost 30 texts, all from Vanessa.

Oh no. The phone shakes in Brooke’s hand, and it’s a good thing she hasn’t eaten because her stomach lurches.

Did something happen? Is she hurt? Is she sick? Her mind is overtaken by images of Vanessa trapped and bleeding in her car, or fighting for her life in the hospital, or scared because of something at work…she forces herself to breathe and opens up the messages, heart pounding.

Brooke

Where are you?

You’re supposed to be out early today remember?

Why are you late?

Brooke are you okay? You’re an hour late and I’m scared

Brooke?

Are you okay?

You’re almost two hours late

I just called your office they said you’re in a meeting. Did you seriously forget to leave early for tonight?

Whatever. Obviously your job is more important

Oh shit. Brooke’s heart creeps into her throat and the guilt slams into her like a tractor. Somehow, in between her rushed cup of coffee for breakfast and the two morning meetings and skipping lunch to perfect her presentation and the presentation itself and this meeting, she completely forgot that she had to get out early.

It’s her and Vanessa’s third anniversary.

And Brooke forgot about it.

—

“Will you just come, Brooke? You might actually enjoy yourself, you know,” Nina argues.

“At 80’s music night at the Rainforest Bar? Do I even need to dignify that with a response?” She shoots Nina the most scathing look she can muster.

“Okay, so maybe it’s not your exact idea of a good time, but please just come? You might meet someone. You haven’t been in a relationship since undergrad. I worry about you, Brooke.” It’s a clear guilt trip, but there’s such sincerity in Nina’s expression that she finds herself agreeing.

“Fine. But if I don’t have a good time, which I won’t, I get to pick the next movie for movie night.”

“Okay. And if you do have a good time, which you will, I get to pick the movie.”

“Deal.”

—

Brooke opens the back door and enters a fog of doom and misery in the kitchen.

“Look who decided to show up.”

Vanessa sits stiffly at the kitchen table, a murderous gleam in her eyes. She’s still in her flowing gold dress that she saves for special occasions. The table is bare, and Brooke realizes with a pang that Vanessa had given up on her and put it all away, removed all traces of the night they were supposed to have, with their fancy dresses and fancy dinner and candles and champagne.

Like she could no longer bear to sit and look at the broken promise Brooke had made of their night.

There is nothing she can say that will make this better, but she has to try. Vanessa deserves that much at least.

“Vanessa, I’m so sorry. I got caught up at work–”

“You’re always caught up at work!”

She can tell from Vanessa’s rage that this has been building for a while–and not without reason. Brooke has been coming home later than usual the past few weeks, falling asleep at her home desk as she reviews graphs and charts. She’s been telling Vanessa that things will be normal again once the quarter ends, but what if–fear grips her heart–what if her and Vanessa aren’t still her and Vanessa by the time it does?

“They scheduled a late meeting and it was mandatory–”

“Of course it was! And you know what? You wouldn’t have even been there for it if you left early like you promised!” Vanessa leaps to her feet, betrayal and anger enabling her to tower over Brooke.

“I know. I’m sorry. It was a shitty thing to do and I–”

“One night I asked you to get out early. One!” She laughs bitterly. “Sometimes I think you like that job more than me.”

“Ness, I–”

“You don’t get to call me Ness right now.” Brooke detects tears chasing after the fury in Vanessa’s voice. “Why don’t you sleep at your desk tonight. You love sleeping there anyway.”

She storms up the stairs and Brooke restrains herself from following. Vanessa’s anger is like a landmine; you might take out everything in a 5-mile radius if you approach her when she’s still seething. As much as Brooke wants to race after her and talk and apologize until she’s repaired this, she knows she’ll only create more damage if she goes when the fire of rage is still burning through her wife, and she’s caused enough destruction already.

She finds their dessert for tonight, chocolate-strawberry tarts from their favorite coffee shop–where they had their first official date and Brooke was so nervous she poured sugar all over the table instead of in her mug–in the garbage, another casualty of Brooke’s forgetfulness.

Brooke steps into her home office, her appetite suddenly gone, a hard lump in her stomach now. She drops into her desk chair, still in her stiff pantsuit, because she doesn’t deserve the release of taking it off. She watches the sky brighten as it passes from dusk to dawn, a bright pink of new possibilities and fulfilled promises, as she formulates a plan.

She’s going to make this right.

—

Nina hums along to “Africa” at the table they’re huddled around, and Brooke is flooded with guilt for making Nina stand here with her miserable self when she knows Nina would rather be on the dance floor.

“Go dance,” Brooke insists. “Have fun. Don’t worry about me.” It takes another few minutes of coaxing and reassuring Nina that she’ll be fine before Nina sprints to the dance floor, immediately drawn in with a group of women.

Brooke sighs and sips at her drink, the oversized paper umbrella almost taking her eye out. She shouldn’t be here; she should be reviewing her presentation for Monday, making sure she’s caught every mistake. Maybe she could hole up in the bathroom and go over the notes on her phone. She sighs again. Why couldn’t she ever just let go and have fun like Nina encouraged her to?

“Hey there,” a rough voice surfaces at her side. “You okay? You lookin’ kinda stressed, Mami.”

Brooke looks up at the most beautiful woman she’s ever seen, brilliant white teeth exposed in a full grin, a jungle cat on the prowl, brown eyes bright under the neon lights, hair brushed back off her soft, smooth face.

“I–I’m fine,” Brooke manages, no longer sure how to form words.

The woman winks. “You sure are.” She bats her eyelashes and Brooke has to grip the table just to stay upright.

“I’m Vanessa,” the woman says.

—

Brooke calls in sick to work and is out the door before the sun is up the next morning, before Vanessa rolls out of bed to take her shower. Brooke can’t help but smile as she pictures the nest Vanessa’s hair is in the morning, how she always tries to convince Brooke to stay in the shower with her. All she can do is hope she didn’t mess up enough to lose those things.

The grocery store is nearly deserted this early in the morning, which is good because Brooke doesn’t want to know what she looks like, in yesterday’s clothes, hair up in a ponytail, running on a rough hour of sleep and not enough coffee. She shoves through the exhaustion and focuses.

Vanessa likes Caesar salad with extra croutons, she likes potatoes fried until they crunch, and she likes steak completely well done because any pink in it freaked her out. Brooke can barely make toast without setting off the smoke detector, but as she roams down endless seas of cans and boxes, her sleep-deprived brain declares that she can make all of these things for tonight.

She is going to give Vanessa the night she deserves, because Vanessa is the greatest person Brooke has ever known. She is somehow bold and brash yet kind and thoughtful, always armed with the right words for any situation. She can loosen the threads that have Brooke wound tight with stress over work conferences, make her laugh after a long day, nestle perfectly in her arms at night. The pain in Brooke’s chest is only growing as she thinks of the absolute wreck she made of everything.

How could she have forgotten the anniversary of the day she stood under a canopy of orange leaves and slid her ring on Vanessa’s finger and vowed to love her forever? Has her love for Vanessa lessened over the years? No, she knows that isn’t true. Her heart still speeds up every time Vanessa smiles at her, their hands still fly together like lovesick teenagers. She knows, even in moments when Vanessa has steam coming out of her ears after work or is frowning at her for editing presentations in bed, that she loves Vanessa more than ever. She has to show Vanessa how much she loves her in case the message has been lost lately with all her deadlines and meetings and stress.

Her next stop is the coffee shop to get new tarts, only to be told that they make those every other day. Brooke clenches her fists so tight she nearly bends her phone in half. She has to have these tarts. They’re Vanessa’s favorite, and nothing else will do. Vanessa should get to have her favorite dessert all the time, and especially now, but Brooke walks out the door with a polite thank you, because what’s she going to do? Get down on her knees and sob and beg the bored twenty-something behind the counter to make the tarts so she can save her marriage? (The thought does cross her mind).

Brooke gets in her car, pulls up a recipe, and heads back to the store.

—

Vanessa is tiny, barely at Brooke’s shoulders even in her sleek black heels, but with a voice and personality that make her double in size. Brooke easily lets her take the lead on the conversation, and by the time she finds out Vanessa is a schoolteacher a few years younger than her, Brooke forgets to be afraid, forgets about her presentation Monday, forgets everything but Vanessa’s eyes and smile across from her.

Brooke doesn’t even notice that hours have passed listening to Vanessa’s stories of what goes on in the teachers’ lounge at school, the DJ cycling through Madonna and Cyndi Lauper and George Michael, until the bartender announces last call and the soft strains of a familiar song from one of her and Nina’s favorite movies ring out.

‘Now I’ve had the time of my life…’

Vanessa squeals. “I love this song! Dance with me?”

She lets Vanessa pull her on to the dance floor, the brunette telling her over the music about how she and her friends all watched the movie for the first time at a sleepover when they were 12, how everyone drooled over Johnny but she couldn’t take her eyes off Penny, and by the end of the sleepover she knew she had a thing for blondes and did not have a thing for men.

Brooke just listens to that gravelly voice, feels the warmth of Vanessa’s body pulsing next to her, and when the song reaches its climax, she can’t resist leaning down and whispering into Vanessa’s ear.

“I can do this, you know. The lift, I mean.” Brooke clarifies at Vanessa’s confused expression.

“You’re shitting me!”

“I’m not.” Brooke grins. “I took dance lessons for 14 years, I know how to do it.”

“You wanna come back to my place and prove it?”

—

The first thing she sees when she gets home is Vanessa’s coffee mug in the sink, peeking out at her like a ray of sunlight.

The mug Brooke got her as a joke when they started dating, with a chalkboard and an apple on it proclaiming Vanessa to be the World’s Best Teacher. The mug she had plucked a ring out of the night she proposed to Vanessa, a night filled with happy tears and kisses and breathless repeatings of we’re getting married. The mug that Vanessa insisted be the first thing they unpacked when they moved into their new house.

Vanessa leaves the mug in the sink every morning and Brooke washes it every night when she gets home from work, relishing the calm motions and the memories of late breakfasts and kisses sweet with coffee and maple syrup bursting from the mug’s surface.

If Vanessa was willing to drink out of this morning after everything that happened, maybe there’s hope, and Brooke rinses the mug with a smile.

Then she lays out her supplies and gets to work.

Brooke can’t cook. At all. And she doesn’t mean it in the modest way people do when they don’t want to call attention to their talents; she means it in the way that Vanessa reaches for the fire extinguisher anytime Brooke gets within a foot of the stove. But she has double of everything she’ll need and seven hours until Vanessa gets home, and today is as good a day as ever to be optimistic.

Brooke slices and stirs and mixes and it distracts her from the fact that it’s radio silence on her phone all day. No cat videos or pictures of Vanessa at her desk with the funniest Snapchat filter she could find or an accusatory so guess what this hoe at work did today with the promise of a wild story that she would hear at dinner. It’s what she expected and it’s what she deserves. Hell, it’s probably more than she deserves; she wouldn’t blame Vanessa for sending her angry texts and screaming voicemails.

After a long shower, a thick layer of aloe vera over the small burn on her arm, three Minnie Mouse Band-Aids on the cuts on her fingers, one batch of tarts so deformed they could be a viral Pinterest fail, a once-white T-shirt that she doubts even bleach can save, and a salad dressing incident that required cleaning the ceiling, Brooke curls her hair, applies her makeup, and slips on her elegant black dress, the one with the plunging neckline that Vanessa likes because then she can put her hands all over Brooke’s chest.

She lights candles to set the romantic mood (and also mask the odor from the first round of potatoes she burned), arranges deep red and soft white roses in a vase, and props up the portable speaker as Vanessa drives home from the after-school program she helps with, probably blasting Rihanna and singing along with the windows open.

Brooke starts the music as she hears the lock click, preparing herself for the moment of truth.

—-

Vanessa is barely in the door before she has the song cued up on her phone, pulling Brooke into the living room with a wide smile.

Vanessa slips her arms around Brooke’s waist, rocking her into a slow dance as the first verses of the song play out.

The song builds to the lift, and Vanessa bites her lip and glances up at Brooke nervously.

“You’re not gonna drop me, are you?” she questions.

“I won’t drop you, I promise. I got you.” Brooke has never made promises easy, Nina the only person to typically earn them, but it flies out so naturally she doesn’t question it, and she knows she will never break it. She’s got a good feeling in her gut about Vanessa, and Brooke wants to carve those words into stone.

Vanessa nods, taking a few steps back before running at her, heels clicking on the floor, and Brooke settles her hands on Vanessa’s hips, going with the motion and lifting her high in the air.

“Holy shit, Brooke!” Vanessa shrieks above Brooke’s head. “I’m five-nothing, I never been this high! Well, except for that time my friend Silky made her ‘special’ cookies.”

Vanessa is quaking with laughter above her, legs flailing, and Brooke laughs and lowers Vanessa to the ground, hands still sturdy on her hips, and Brooke is thinking she might just leave them there forever. What does she really need her hands for anyway?

“I bet you use that trick on all the girls,” Vanessa accuses, still breathless, a smile between her flushed cheeks.

“Never,” Brooke says truthfully. “Never met anyone I liked enough to do it with.”

And then their lips meet, and that good feeling spreads to Brooke’s entire body. She may actually burst into flame, and she lifts Vanessa once more and carries her into–no, that’s the bathroom, Brooke unable to see anything but Vanessa–the bedroom, placing her down carefully and removing Vanessa’s dress.

They nestle into a breathless tangle, and there’s that feeling in Brooke’s stomach again. This time it’s telling her that this won’t be their last night together, that she’ll get to hold Vanessa close every night and wake up with sunlight glinting off Vanessa’s back every morning, kissing and laughing and getting pancake crumbs from breakfasts in bed all over the sheets.

She lets the feeling carry her off into sleep.

Vanessa makes waffles the next morning, and Brooke leaves with another kiss and a new contact in her phone, Vanessa’s name followed by a heart and dancing woman emojis.

Brooke gets two texts that afternoon.

The first is from Vanessa asking if she wants to go for coffee tomorrow. The second is from Nina stating that they’ll be watching Mulan for their next movie night.

—-

Etta James’s voice fills the kitchen as Vanessa steps inside, Brooke strategically arranging a playlist with all Vanessa’s favorite love songs, most from their wedding, when they spun around together and neither one could do anything but smile because they were married.

“Brooke?” Vanessa asks, her work bag slipping through her fingers and crashing to the floor. “You-you look so beautiful, and the music and the flowers…and you cooked?” She looks at the table in wonder and bites her lip the way she does when Brooke knows she’s trying not to smile.

“Happy anniversary,” Brooke says. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry about yesterday. I know that really hurt you, and I wanted to give you the anniversary you deserve, because you mean the world to me.”

“Brooke…” she’s not hiding her smile anymore, and her eyes are starting to tear up.

Brooke takes a deep breath, holding herself back from running to Vanessa just in case. “I love you, Vanessa. These have been the best three years of my life, and I still love you just as much as I did the first day. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I’m going to work harder to show you that. I won’t be late at the office anymore, and I won’t be doing work stuff when I could be with you. Because you’re the most important thing in my life.”

Vanessa is in her arms the next second, breathing soft I love you’s into Brooke’s chest.

“I forgive you,” Vanessa whispers. “I love you so much, Brooke. I was so lonely last night, and I wanted to text you so many times today, and you did all this for me…this is the best anniversary ever.”

She plants a kiss on the top of Vanessa’s head, and then Vanessa runs upstairs and comes back in her gold dress, Brooke bursting into a grin and hit with that same flutter in her stomach like she did that first night, like she did the night they said their vows.

‘Unforgettable, that’s what you are…’ Nat King Cole lulls over them as they start on dinner, Vanessa updating her on the case of the teachers’ lounge snack-stealer with today’s new evidence.

“I think the food is edible,” Brooke offers as a disclaimer.

“It’s fine, baby,” Vanessa assures her, crunching on potatoes. “Hey, was that stain on the ceiling before?” she asks suddenly. “And why do you have so many Band-Aids on?”

“Just don’t ask,” Brooke blurts around her edible, actually-not-bad steak, grateful when “I’m Stone in Love With You” picks up and Vanessa’s attention shifts to another story.

Brooke is washing the dishes from the tarts (a little crunchy around the edges, maybe, but altogether decent) when it comes on, like she timed it (which she had, stalling on the dish-scrubbing for just the right moment).

‘Now I’ve had the time of my life…’

“Brooke!” Vanessa squeals. “You didn’t!”

Brooke drops her washcloth in the sink and tugs Vanessa into the living room. “I did.”

The music sweeps around them and they join together in a slow dance, twirling around the living room laughing and smiling, that night years ago reflected in both of their eyes.

Vanessa takes a step back as the time grows near, searching Brooke’s face for the answer to an unasked question.

“I still got you,” Brooke promises.

Her hands are on Vanessa’s hips seconds later, Vanessa screeching up in the air while Brooke laughs beneath her, fingers exuding a promise she first made years ago into Vanessa’s skin, the promise that she will always be there for her wife, no matter what.

She brings Vanessa down into a kiss as the song fades out and melts into Diana Ross. Every kiss with Vanessa over the years has been special, but this one is fiery and desperate, filled with every need that went unanswered last night. Needs that Brooke won’t let be neglected again, because she isn’t going to put her job above her wife–her kind, passionate, fierce, loving wife–again.

She carries Vanessa up the stairs and this time she doesn’t have to search for a bedroom in an unfamiliar apartment because now it’s their bedroom, their home. Their life.

And she knows that tomorrow they’ll wake up and Vanessa will drink coffee out of that mug, and Brooke will wash it tomorrow night with a smile on her face, because even if the way she loves Vanessa has changed over the years, Brooke knows she has never loved her more.

[sigritandtheelves]

Sooooooo how about some more of simple?

Here ya go. Sat on this one a while, sry.

Simple

Chapter 9

Other Chapters:  One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight

PG-13 | 2.3k wds | pre-XF AU | MSR, Melissa/Samantha

A/N: Another wee bit of uncustomary angst, but we’re rounding toward a resolution. They just gotta sit with they feelings a bit, ya know?

_+_

March, 1990 - Baltimore

It was late and the TV was muted and there were takeout containers on the coffee table. The two of them were entwined on the couch: work clothes abandoned for soft cottons, hair pulled back, soft cheek touching cheek amidst the sofa cushions. Samantha held Melissa’s hand in her own, splayed the fingers, pressed their palms and aligned their digits, measuring—her own a few millimeters longer.

“You think I’m too young?” She asked, voice husky and quiet.

Melissa shook her head, brought Sam’s knuckles to her lips. “No, it’s not that.”

“You’re worried about your family. About the legality of it. About the rest of the world.”

“Not all of that. I worry about you.”

Sam looked up, searching for the knot of worry in her partner’s face. “Why me?”

With a sigh, Melissa pressed their foreheads together. “You had a difficult childhood. A lot of that will probably come back up. Some of it may even be shaping this desire right now.”

Samantha frowned, not particularly fond of this psychoanalysis. “My childhood wasn’t so bad.”

“Sam.”

“So you think I want to fix my broken past with a baby? It’s not that, Melissa.” Fierce brown eyes met blue. “That might be your worry, but it isn’t true. If I were desperate to create some nuclear-family bandaid, don’t you think I would have married some sensitive guy with a trust fund right out of Brown and been miserable by 25?” Melissa frowned, then chuckled and shook her head. She’d seemed hesitant to have this talk, brushing it off for weeks, and Sam couldn’t figure out why. At Christmas she’d seemed excited about the idea, and they had even started looking into clinics. Sam leaned closer, placed a kiss over Melissa’s heart. “I want this because I love you. And I think we’d be really good at it.”

Melissa’s arms came up around Sam’s shoulders and she breathed another deep sigh. “We would be good at it,” she said. “You’re so damned cute with kids.”

“I love them.”

“I know you do. And I love you.”

“So what’s wrong?”

A brief pause. “I… I’m not sure. Something feels off.”

“With us?”

Sam could feel Melissa thinking, trying to psychically work things out in that way she had, to intuit her way to the truth. “I don’t think so,” she said finally. “I don’t know.”

Pushing up on one elbow, Sam lifted her head so they were eye to eye, watched Melissa’s face for some sign of doubt (in her, in them), but found none. “We don’t have to rush,” she said. “I trust your intuition.”

Melissa touched her cheek, kissed her once on the lips. “But you want this. I know.”

Sam nodded and leaned in for another kiss. A moment later, there was a knock at the door and the two women regarded each other in puzzlement. Sam glanced at the clock: almost eleven. She pushed herself up from the couch and went to the peephole. “It’s Fox,” she said, and pulled open the door.

He looked terrible. His eyes were red and his face was unshaven. He appeared not to have showered for a few days. “Oh my god,” she said. “What happened?”

“C’n I come in?”

Brow furrowed, she stepped aside, then locked the door behind him. “Are you drunk?”

“No,” he said, then amended: “Only a little.”

Melissa appeared then, and her hands came up to cover her mouth in surprise. “What happened?”

Fox walked past them both, into the living room, and both women followed. They watched him collapse onto the couch. “She won’t talk to me,” he said, curling up on his side, head in the cushions. “She said we shouldn’t… talk right now.” His voice was muffled by the fabric and stuffing, but Sam heard it break.

Carefully, she sat down beside him. “You mean Dana,” she said, and he nodded. “Did something happen?”

This time his head shook side-to-side amidst the pillows, face still buried.

“I’ll make some tea,” Melissa said, heading toward the kitchen, but before she could leave, Fox pushed aside a pillow and looked at her.

“Melissa,” he said, desperation in his voice. “Did she say something? Did I do something?”

Melissa bit her lip and shook her head. “She didn’t say anything to me,” she said. “But Dana is… reserved about these kinds of things. Anxious.”

The look in his eyes was pleading, and Sam felt for her brother: so ready to love, so easily hurt. “She doesn’t want me,” he said. It was pitiful.

Again, Melissa shook her head. “She does. I promise. Let me make the tea, and then we can talk.”

—

It began after her recruitment visit, or maybe during. He could feel her pulling away, trying to forcibly cool the spark between them. First, she didn’t call, then wouldn’t answer her phone. He got hold of her a few times, told her he missed her, said he wanted to visit for her birthday. But she’d said, “What about your work?” And though he’d wanted to protest that he didn’t care, she’d been right, because Diana called him the next day with another case. He sent Dana flowers, and she’d called to say thank you: polite, detached, a million miles away, rather than three-thousand.

“What is it?” He’d said, but she’d always said “Nothing,” until he’d finally broken down on the phone, got angry, got sad, and demanded she tell him.

“Dana, please,” he’d said. “Is it because I missed your calls? Was it my shitty apartment? Is there someone else?”

She’d frozen, silent on the line for almost a whole minute, before she’d answered. “I think,” she said, her voice tight and restrained, “I think it’s probably not good for either of us to be together. Not if I’m going to the Academy while you’re working important cases for higher ups.”

“Why the hell not?” He’d practically shouted. He’d thought he heard a swallowed sob, but he was too angry to think about what it meant.

Now, at his sister’s house, Sam hovered, her hand on his shoulder, while he recounted the whole story.

“When was this?” Melissa asked.

“Two days ago,” Fox said into his palms.

Melissa swallowed a sip of her own tea and considered what he’d said. “She’s worried because you’ll both be at the FBI, because she’ll be in training and you’re an agent.”

He hadn’t considered this, and it made him raise his head to look at her. “It’s not like I’ll be her superior. I don’t do any teaching, and I’ve been working out of the Hoover building the last few months. Miles from Quantico.”

“Is there any reason it could make things hard on you? Either of you?”

“No,” he said, adamant. “The FBI doesn’t even have a policy about relationships.”

“Did you tell her that?”

Fox frowned. No, he hadn’t told her that. He hadn’t realized he needed to. “I didn’t think it mattered. I didn’t think it would matter.”

He’d spent the last month in agony, and now he felt like there were hot coals in his chest. What did she think could happen? What did she think he would do?

Beside him, Samantha sighed. “Probably because of that other guy. Daniel.”

Fox looked at her, struck. “Who?”

He caught a look between the two women, caught Melissa’s surprise, a kind of wide-eyed uh-oh. “She didn’t tell you?” Sam murmured.

“Tell me what?” Now he was starting to panic. “Who’s Daniel?”

Melissa breathed deeply and sat down on the armchair across from him. “It’s not really my story to tell,” she said, but perhaps reconsidered after she saw what look must have been on his face. “She’d been dating a  doctor, one of her instructors, before she met you. He confronted her and made some threats—to her career and her reputation—just before she came out for her interview.”

“Wha—“ but he was speechless. Threats. Just before she flew out… oh. And he’d missed her calls in that time, hadn’t talked to her until after she’d been dragged through the halls of the Hoover building by countless stern-looking men. Dana who, he was sure, owned precisely one suit and had been expecting a life in scrubs and sneakers until just a week before. Shit. It was starting to make sense to him—her fear, her need to push him away. “Oh god,” he said. “Why didn’t she tell me?”

At this, Melissa smiled: knowing and sad. “Dana has always been one to carry her own burdens. And then some. She told me about it, but I think that was about the limit of her opening up.”

Fox thought of her in his apartment, distant, but leaning into his touch; quiet, but desperate to be close. “What do I do?” He asked, perhaps more to himself than to either of the women.

“Talk to her again,” Sam said, but Melissa was shaking her head.

“No,” the other woman said. “Don’t push. She’ll only push back” She chewed her lip, then took another sip of her tea. “Can you be patient? Will you wait for her to come around?”

Fox laughed into his palms, fingers splayed across his forehead. “I can’t promise to be patient,” he said, lifting his head. “But I’d wait forever.”

Sam hooked her arm through his and rested her head on his shoulder, nothing but sympathy in her eyes. “Oh Fox,” she said. “It’ll be okay. Just let her know you’ll wait until she’s ready.”

He slept off the worst of his misery in their guest room, a space that held the fond, if painful, memory of their first lovemaking. If pressed, he’d say he didn’t cry into those pillows that night. He was a grown man with a good handle on his emotions, not some lovesick Romeo. That’s what he’d say, anyway.

—

Stanford

Dana punished herself with long hours at the gym. She kept thinking the words fitness test and remembering austere hallways lined with square-jawed giants. She pinched at the flesh of her upper arm, timed her miles, practiced her push ups, even though she hated them. She stopped putting sugar in her coffee. She woke at five. She did her rounds without complaint and took extra shifts when she could. By the time she climbed into bed at night, she didn’t have the energy to think about anything else. That was her plan, at least.

Her birthday flowers sat in yellowing water on her table: purple daisies with drooping petals, a half-dozen wilted roses, brittle baby’s breath. She refused to throw them out, thinking there was some cold metaphor in their slow decay.

Every time her phone rang, a jolt of fear shot up her spine. Maybe the FBI, rescinding their invitation. Maybe Daniel, calling to threaten her again. Maybe Fox, angry with her and demanding answers.

When it rang on Saturday evening, she was eating a limp spinach salad on her couch, listening to The Cure’s “Pictures of You” on repeat and pretending she was fine. She turned down the stereo and answered with no small amount of trepidation.

“Hi Dana.” Melissa’s voice said, soft.

“Hi,” she said, somewhat surprised. “How are you?”

“Oh, I’m fine, mostly. What about you?” By the way she asked, Dana knew she knew something. Her eyes narrowed and she scooped dead flower petals off her small table. They sat in her palm like twisted tissue paper.

“Fine,” she said.

“Mm hmm.” There was a brief pause. “Fox stopped by last night.”

Dana tried to stop the strangled sound that clambered out of her mouth, but she didn’t catch it in time, so she cleared her throat to cover it. “Oh.” She swallowed. “Is… is he okay?”

“Well, Dana, not really.”

“Oh.”

Rather than walk to the trashcan, she dropped the petals back onto the table and sat down. “Did he seem angry?”

There was a heavy sigh on the other end of the line. “No, Dana. He seemed heartbroken. Why didn’t you talk to him about what happened?”

Against her will, Dana felt her eyes burn and her lower lip wobble. It was a moment before she could answer. “I couldn’t,” she said. “He wouldn’t… what would he think? How could I explain about Daniel?”

“With words, Dana. Words about your feelings and why you were scared and how you missed him and wanted him to be there for you.”

“You make it sound easy. What if I scare him away?”

“So instead you push him away? Besides, you wouldn’t. He loves you.”

“No he doesn’t.”

There was laughter on the other end of the line, dumbfounded, eye-rolling laughter. “How can you… he… Oh, Day.”

From farther away, shouted toward the phone, Samantha’s sing-song voice: “He’s in love with youuuu! He wants to marry you and make little Fox-and-Dana babies! Caaallll him.”

At her words, Dana broke into a laugh, but one that was also a half-sob. She covered her face with the hand not holding the phone.

“Sorry,” Melissa said. “Sam’s been at the zinfandel and she’s loopy.”

“Have nooot!” Sam’s voice called, sounding farther away this time.

“Just call him, okay? Tell him you want to talk. You get a break at the end of the month, right?”

“Yeah.” The laugh-sob had faded, but her voice still sounded wet. She cleared her throat again.

“Good. Maybe you can visit?” Melissa’s voice softened. “We love you both. Don’t fuck it up because you’re scared, okay? Call me if you need to talk.”

“Okay,” Dana said, swiping at her eyes. “Sorry I’m so stupid about these things.”

“You’re not stupid. You just need to talk to him. You know, about feelings. With words.”

A little chuckle. “Right.”

“Love you, Day.”

“Love you, too.”

And they hung up.

Dana tossed out the rest of her salad, pulled the ice cream from the back of the freezer, and rewound her cassette. Feet up on the couch, double chocolate fudge on her spoon, she stock-piled her courage against the sound of Robert Smith. She’d call him tomorrow.

— end chapter 9 —

Go to Chapter 10

[kurtty-drabbles]

Lovecraft au (lovesick part 2)

@djinmer4 @dannybagpipesarecalling @discordsworld @look-ma-no-hands336 @sailorstar9

N/A: I admit that the only reason for this to exist is because I want to see Lovecraft Kurt jelly. As for I want to see Evil Wizard Kurt as a dragon in the Katherine au.

Terry Pryde can cut her carrots for the dinner as Cameron arrives back from his work. The work is something the woman has yet to understand, the man sits on the dinner table and looks at his wife cutting the carrots with diligence.

“You know...I´m here we can talk about that, in fact, we should” and Terry let go of the carrot and faces her husband as if a switch was installed she has anger written in her face as well confusion.

“Ok, let me ask you why you thought going to the fish city was a bright idea?” Terry asked and wonders briefly if her husband knows she was never the one to like beaches in the past and now...it gots worse.

“Dagon approaches me, he´s not a human you can close your door in his face” Cameron tries to answer this in a calm way, but, the memory of meeting with Dagon was enough for the man to take addiction to caffeine. His hand travelled to his hair as his nostrils are flaming. Terry is not sure if she is pitying him. “ he gave me visions about our daughter and how this …” he takes a deep breath and tries again “how this monster will hurt her and ...I didn´t know what to do”

“Could have talked to me!” she exclaimed “I don´t like to live here in the fishland nor I like to keep in the dark about the future of my own child, you aren't even in there when I gave birth to Kitty” she never forget that moment.

“We found one of his ...members, for the sake of my sanity, lurking around the city and, god, Teresa, that thing wants to kill our daughter, I just want to protect you, I thought ...this was our best chance” Cameron explained and now has his head lower “if I have told you a big fish God wants to protect your powerful daughter would you believe me?”

“No, ok, I see your point, but, I'm still mad that you take such decision without me, good intention aside, how you would feel if I change your family to a new planet? Because after a Fish God everything is possible”

“You tried to leave the city without me” Cameron has a sad smile now “I can see your point”

“Oh, Cameron, this situation is crazy enough, no more lies, please,” Terry asked, no, she pleased and Cameron holds her hand and offers a smile “No more lies, I´m sorry, I just wanted to protect you and Kitty”

As the two talks about the new situation Kitty Pryde, 6 years old, listen to her parents and can take little satisfaction that her new room has no window to the ocean its eyes are no longer on her, at least for now.

Terry and Cameron have no real power within the fishland, as Terry likes to call, however, Dagon wishes to protect Kitty(a reason that Cameron and Terry have to fully understand) the deity is open mind to a certain degree and Terry and Cameron tries to make this new experience less weird as possible.

“We have some demands” Terry speaks, Cameron once spoke he´s part of Dagon´s cult in an honorary way, in his words “I´m Kitty´s father and that means something for the cult”, and this allows the Pryde to gain courage to speak face to face with Dagon in his human form.

“Oh, I thought you would have demands, so speak away humans” Dagon speaks never once pretending to be a human, but, using the mutant´s status to explain why Kitty needs to be here.

“First, we are Jewish and this won´t be taken away from us, meaning we can celebrate our holidays and be part of the Jewish community” Terry speaks and Dagon nods without a problem and explains himself noticing the others reaction.

“I guess Cameron did read Lovecraft´s work, so, let me clarify, that pathetic human being is a racist that worth less than shit. If you and your wife want to celebrate your Jewish roots, by all means, do it” Dagon explained.

“Another thing,” Cameron gains courage to speak thanks to his wife “you want to protect Kitty, my daughter, then no ocean will come near her” some of Dagon´s heralds and members prolific of the cult are insulted by the suggestion, to them water is everything, Dagon accept the terms but “I want to see Kitty, especially as her powers are growing” Cameron frown at him and Dagon looks bored “oh, ease your mind, I´m not into this kind of thing, I want to protect her...The Crawling Chaos is always lurking and your daughter will be hurt again because of him...you know that”

Now Cameron looks displeased by the situation, not wanting to be linked as the weak one adds “as noble your intention may be, we are the parents and we decide when you can see your daughter that hates the ocean, Fish God, got it?”

Dagon laughs and Cameron is sure this is a joke for him, however, the deity nods amused.

“We can come and go as we please” Terry starts and Dagon didn´t seem to react “Kitty too, we are not prisoners.” Dagon smiles cruelly and Cameron put in front of Terry as Dagon walks, no, more like slides towards them.

“I can let you celebrate your roots, I can let you think you have some control on those meetings, but, Kitty stays here” Dagon´s eyes are getting yellow with red iris “if you are thinking in use the excuse of school or interaction, forget it. Kitty stays here...I won´t lose her again” noticing the fear in the Prydes eyes the deity tries a new strategy “on the second thought, you humans look better when interacting with others, so, I can allow Kitty to attend a school if, and if, one of my heralds is near her”

Terry and Cameron agree on the condition they can pick the person. Dagon accepts and the Prydes have to live in the fishland and Kitty has yet to understand her powers. Mutants usually have their powers kicking in when they enter in teenagerhood. Why 6 years old Kitty can create a tree in the middle of her room?

___________________________________________________________

Professor McArthur lives in the sin of arrogance, one of the greatest minds and working in the project to create a new type of source of energy Professor McArthur is a great mind and of course, it attracts attention that comes more than NASA´s watchful eyes.

A woman with a long red hair and blue eyes smiles at the professor who is cowering in fear, sweating profusely as the thing comes closer, wearing a pretty mask but making no secret in regards what the thing is and what it desires.

“Please” McArthur begs as the woman has bright gold eyes.

“Please, forgive me, I´m sorry, I think I heard all the excuses, oh...blaming someone else is not the way to go, I told you...I don´t like failures” the woman´s mouth changes to be something inhuman “and I always have a space for food” and McArthur can only scream as his fate is sealed, until, the door is knocked.

It is omnipotent. So...if he saw no one would bother them, then no one should be here. The knocks remain and Nightcrawler(as his toys like to call) is amused. Taking McArthur to his dimension to be eaten later, Nightcrawler goes to answer the door.

“Professor McArthur, I know it is beyond time for the essay, but, I was hoping if you could take a look” the young woman then looks at the blonde woman gazing at her non blinking fashion “Oh, I can return when he´s not busy with his affair, by the way, you are cuter than the last one”

Oh, Nightcrawler remembers McArthur can´t see a woman he would go nuts...preferring more prostitutes.

The bred hair woman smiles as still gazing back at the young woman are unnerving and not human-like, but, Nightcrawler can´t help this woman has HER aura.

“Hey? Is the sex that good...or that bad?” the woman asked and the red hair chuckles “No, I´m just a student, looking for McArthur and I can´t help to wonder how cute you´re” the red hair speaks “my name is Noelle, what´s yours?”

“uhm, Kitty and thanks” ‘’Noelle’’ is looking at her freckles wanting to touch “and you shouldn´t come closer of me” Kitty respond not flinch when Noelle´s hands try to touch Kitty.

“Why?” Noelle asked and her smile stop as Kitty is not alone. “Dagon” Noelle´s voice change and Kitty look surprised.

“Kitty, I told you to come home” Dagon ignored Nightcrawler.

“I just want to talk with my professor” Kitty explains and freaks out as Dagon is not afraid to show a small scale of his inhuman appearance, in her mind, she was sure Noelle would freak out. To her shock, Noelle is too calm.

“You speak with him, now, go” Dagon puts his tentacle on Kitty´s shoulder and Nightcrawler´s eyes morphe to red and gold.

“Are you tiring of living? Cause I can put an end on your misery” Nightcrawler states touching Kitty´s hand, but, Dagon didn´t let to go far.

“You have no power here, the water is my element and we so happen to be near the ocean. And I´m protecting her, much better than you could have done” Dagon speaks and the heated gaze each one is giving to the other is enough to literally created holes on the school.

“HEY” Kitty shouts loudly and Nightcrawler and Dagon stop “I don´t understand what is happening, but, you two won´t destroy the school, I have to go now, person who I now suspect is not a real person, so...bye” Kitty waves at him and Dagon teleport them out of his sight.

[ohthatbunnygirl]

What I love about your fics is how you're not afraid to write some "dark" stuff. And you have a flair for debauchery that is just my jam. It's not exactly a prompt, but I'd love something involving Asshole!Kylo who is in love with Rey, and Rey who wants him back but plays hard to get lol

This is the best kind of praise!

Dear anon, I’m honestly delighted that you appreciate my stuff since dark debauchery is obviously my jam too. It means a lot that ya’ll like anything I write, and so I drummed up this little drabble for you, and for the earlier anon (who probably will not quite like the turn of the events but maybe will), and for @dvrksister who offered prompt advice that I was soooo down for. 

A super filthy drabble with an asshole Kylo, a dance with Poe, and a war-ravaged leader pulled in too many directions.

                                          __________

Yet again it’s a rough day in a long string of rough days. Despite the submission of thousands at his feet, it appeared that ruling wasn’t all that it’s cracked up to be.

Ruling wasn’t anything he wanted at all.

Months after his failure to abandon the First Order with Rey at his side the invisible feeling of a crown only tightened around Kylo’s curls. Day in and day out, that squeeze intensified, and Rey hated that she experienced that suffocation down the bond. The pressure, and him, and him, and him.

“Good, you should feel bad,” Rey mentally mocked across their connection, baring her teeth.“You should suffer. You should burn.”

Delighting in her flash of malice, Kylo’s fingers splayed against the shower wall: a predator extending his claws as his free fingers drifted lower. Smoothing down his wet, muscular chest, he traced the taut skin that she remembered too well. Teasing all the way to the length so gorgeously heavy between his thighs.

“I only burn for you,” Kylo growled, stroking up. “Come and find me again so we can see who suffers- who begs.”

Bitterness mixed with want flooded into Rey’s body, and turning on her side in her bed didn’t change the image. As sure as Rey were in the same room, she watched the salacious glide of his closed fist up and down his thick shaft. Working himself into obscene steel, relieving the strain of his life with her grunted name on his lips. Crudely telling her what he’d do if she were there with him and Rey sat up in her bed.

Knuckles gone white against the sheets.

Pulse racing.

Livid that he’ll abuse himself again to innocent images of her drenched in the rain that he’s turned sordid, but more angry at herself that sometimes she’s joined in. Touched herself in tandem. Unburdened her shoulders from the increasing weight of endless obligations, lightening the load with rapid finger flicks. Selfishly transported away from expectations, and having only him to thank for the tawdry peace.

It’s addictive to join as they do.

It’s also equally as destructive as any known poison.

But he’s back again to give Rey her fix, and gripping her head in her hands, she groaned out her misery. Tugging her hair as he tugged. Overwhelmed with the guilt of pleasing someone who everybody expects her to kill, but not kicking him out either. Smearing pre-cum pearls along his cock, a less troubled Kylo breathed harder and harder. Getting off as he felt her emotions gnarl. Turned on that the roles that they play aren’t easy for her either, and all the more sadistically pleased that Rey still hasn’t confessed to anybody that she knows which planet his ship lingers near.

I know why you haven’t told them what you learned during our last visit, pretty pet.

You’d miss me.

This.

Licking the wall in place of her cheek, he rutted faster into his grip.

Flesh met flesh as the butcher of galaxies chased his full body high, and the louder he moaned, the more Rey shook her head. Looking away from the frantic debasement, she called him names under her breath. Putting on an act of hating him above the shoulders even as she soaked the slip of satin between her legs.

“Show me,” Kylo ordered, panting against the tile. “Show me what I’ve earned.”

Despite all the reasons she shouldn’t, Rey tilted her hips up. Following through though she was a leader, the last hope of the galaxy. The damned beacon of good with shaking knees and toes curled for her enemy. Hating herself for doing it, but parting her legs so he could see the sheen against her skin. Possibly even smell the proof of her arousal as her fingers inched closer to claim her own pleasure before a knock at Rey’s door had her scrambling out of her bunk.

“Kriff-” Rey gasped, not bothering with pants on the way to the door.” Sliding the metal open a couple inches with shaking hands, she then croaked out, “What is it?”

“We’ve found him,” Poe announced, unleashing a toothy smile.

Despite his clear excitement, Rey’s brow pinched in confusion. “Who?”

“Ren.”

“Where?”

“The Ryloth system.”

Where nothing before could slow the hammering heartbeats in Rey’s chest, Poe’s news did the trick. Her blood slowed to sludge. Every inch of her world going from smooth to skipping against the needle when she considered meeting up with him again, and Rey’s hand collapsed against the control buttons along the wall. Accidentally opening the door wider, she stood barely clothed in shocked silence until repeating, Y-You found Ren?”

Taking the opening as an invitation, Poe breezed by Rey. Chuckling as he unbuttoned the top of his collar, revealing the dangling necklace with a ring on his chest that he hoped to have her wear one day. “Yeah, the cocky bastard should hire less conspicuous supply freighters.”

“It’s almost like I wanted them to find me,” Kylo mused, continuing to pump his hand up and down, and Rey’s eyes widened twice after first forgetting that he was in the room and then sensing that Poe couldn’t see him.

“We strike in the morning if that’s okay with you.” Sitting on the end of Rey’s bed, Poe couldn’t stop grinning. “It’s insane to think about that, isn’t it? I mean, we’ve waited so long to have him, and now we got him.”

“Send him to me,” Kylo purred, accelerating his strokes. “Send him so that I may send back his handsome head all wrapped up for you.”

No!

Mistaking her decisive head shake for uncertainty, Poe’s smile faltered. “It’s good intel,” he assured her, dark eyes glittering.  “I know that it’s hard to believe, but it’s our best shot in months.”

“A shot they’ll miss,” Kylo’s gravelly laugh broke into a guttural moan.

One then two then too many droplets dribbled down her thigh, and Rey cringed over Kylo finally finding his end when rubbing it in. All it took was a splash of her panic for him to climax, and to splash her in turn. Leaving a filthy, wet reminder sliding down her skin to punctuate his point that they worked better together without any pesky armies or morals in the way.

Rubbing her legs together to smear his stain off of her, Rey couldn’t meet Poe’s eyes.

This is awful.

I’m awful.

What kind of monster enjoys any part of this?

They were friends. At one point, she’d never thought to have a single friend let alone many, but the hotshot pilot and Rey were friends. You don’t go through what they went through without forming a bond. You can’t possibly face death again and again and win without joining a part of your soul together to one of the few that understands, and his humor and bravery didn’t hurt the situation. As any woman- and even some men- on the ship could tell you, Poe Dameron was a lethal combination of charming, confident, and talented. Depending on the day, he could be a hero or even a death sentence to the pilots he leads, but he was also the kind of guy who’d grab Rey for an impromptu dance in the hangar on the worst days. Reminding her with his easy smile and effortless moves what it was they hoped to save.

“Don’t go,” she whimpered, and the crack in her voice made Poe’s chin jerk up to take in her appearance. For the first time since barging in, his grin slipped. Many had noticed Rey’s figure thinning over the past few months, the haunted look lingering in her hazel eyes. They all assumed that it was mourning for Finn, for Leia, for the thousands they lost. On some days, Poe figured that she was only hungry for the end of the fighting, and he wasn’t wrong. More than anything, Rey needed a rest. She was exhausted, pulled thin in too many directions, and Poe blamed that for the disheveled hair, the pale cheeks damp that he mistook for teary. Everything about her appearance shouted out that something was off with Rey, and when she stood there in her underwear and tank top he made the mistake of assuming her fragile as opposed to what she knew she really was.

A bold traitor.

A shameless libertine.

A lovesick general who couldn’t pull the trigger.

Pushing his palms down against the squeaky mattress, Poe got up to his feet again. Reaching out for Rey, he drew her in closer. Strong arms banding around her slender waist, offering comfort, and all the while completely unaware that another man’s affection dripped on her toes. Clueless that each step towards him splattered her skin with Kylo as Poe did his best to improve Rey’s spirits. Thinking that he could fix her with another slow dance. Naively believing that some of her inner battles could be so easily conquered by somebody who couldn’t possibly fathom the warring darkness in her.

Knowing her, but not knowing her at all.

Resting her head on his shoulder, she let Poe comfort her. Step by step allowing him to assume that he could sooth whatever troubled her with another elegant spin. Dredging up a small smile for him, she hoped that the boost to confidence might help him in the battles of her making. Let him believe for a while that they were on the same team- no conflict in her heart- and when he left the room Rey pressed her forehead to the door with a low sob.

The tears coming fast, quick, and uselessly.

The shame already nipping at her heels even before she felt his leather glove skim down her spine.

“Go away,” she gasped, rolling her lips in. “I don’t want this.”

Placing a small kiss on each shoulder, Kylo hummed against her skin.“You’re only upset because you know that he’s not your path.” Dragging his teeth down to her hips, he licked between bites. “Mmm, it would be easier to desire someone so simple, but that’s not you, Rey. You grew up in filth. You wouldn’t know what to do with something so pure if you had it.”

Clapping a hand against her mouth, Rey sobbed harder.

“But you’re worth more than him,” Kylo continued. Resting his gloved hand against the base of her spine, he slowly bent her over. “Oh, you’re precious, but you’ll never want easy. You’ve fought too hard and too long to have anything handed to you. Hating me is the most fun you have all day, and that’s why it’s okay to admit it because the universe didn’t join us together so he could fulfill you with a cock still warm from the last bed he jumped into.”

As much as her mouth twisted in disgust, Rey couldn’t flat out reject that the universe didn’t devise a plan for them. Many Admirals, Commanders, and Super Leaders had failed to sway this endless war one way or another, but always Kylo and Rey remained at the center of the struggle. The heirs apparent to the light and dark feud but bound together, bonded by a tie that cared nothing about the inconvenience.  

Quieting her cries, Rey glared over her shoulder. “You don’t know anything about Poe.”

“Tsk,” Kylo gripped her hips possessively, tender with a dig of his nails. “You forget that I’ve been in his head. I know all about Dameron. All his fears that wouldn’t even make you blink, all his insecure weakness.”

“You’re just jealous.”

Snapping her hips back to let her feel his hardened erection, Kylo tsked again. “Now why would I be jealous when I know that you’re mine, pet?”

“Because he’s here and you’re not,” Rey spat out, lip curled up.  

Fighting him where she could, she lost anyway. All at once, the sound of his zipper going down filled the room, and Rey whipped her head back towards the door. Breathing out heavily, she flushed. He’d obviously dressed so that she could feel the scratchy fibers against her skin, listen to the mouthwatering sound of leather sliding through belt loops. Smell his masculine cologne mixed with the freshly laundered uniform. The plan was to taunt her with every sense, and she clenched her jaw in aggravated understanding. Yes, her tormenter dressed to grab control again, and she refused to meet his eyes. She wouldn’t give him sight- not yet.

Hiding the eagerness in her gaze, she masked the want building with every touch- the thrills rippling down her skin that came from hearing him call her his. Ever since their initial hand-holding, Rey frequently wondered about who acted as the host in this symbiotic relationship. One could easily assume that it was Kylo Ren in control, but Rey wasn’t so sure when he knew every dirty way to please her. Answering her each time she needed him without knowing it, and he was the one on his knees that very morning doing her bidding.

“How shall I prove how very here I am?” Kylo snarled, voice sharp as he softly grazed her inner thighs and up. Sliding her underwear down, playing with extremes. Stroking a finger then two in and out mercilessly around the wet from earlier, burying his seed deep in her with words and touch. “Will you accept it when I fuck you?”

“Uhh-”

“Is that what you want, precious thing?”

Groaning against the door, Rey nodded.

The end of denying him having arrived.

The beginning of fulfilling her now commencing.

Shifting forward, Kylo entered her with a hard thrust.

Answering her prayers and fears, he slowly impaled his little martyr. Quickening the back and forth with every stroke. Stretching her around his girth until the door shook and Rey choked on his name. Words lost, everything lost when it felt this good, this wrong, this all-consuming.

“Please,” she gasped, carving her nails into the door. “Please-”

Shoving his hand between her thighs, Kylo Ren gave her what she needed.

Swirling around her clit in sloppy perfect circles, slicking leather until even closing her eyes couldn’t hide the stars.

With an arch of her back, she cried out through her orgasm. Putty in his hands while breathlessly repeating his name. Hopelessly soft and sweet for him, but he wasn’t anywhere close to done with her yet. Spinning Rey around, Kylo yanked her thigh up to his hip before plunging back inside of her. Face to face. Smacking her back against the door with each savage thrust, fucking her raw and relentless when she gave in and sucked on his throat. Marking him. Licking where nobody could see this symbol of good gone bad. Shaking already on the edge of a fresh wave of passion that she didn’t believe possible, but she was tensing around his cock. Close again, feeling her stomach tightening before Kylo slowed while staring at where they joined together. “Tell me what time you’ll launch them tomorrow.”

“Kylo-”

“Tell me,” he ordered, ripping off her tank strap. Smacking, pinching, and torturing how she wanted him to. Rough with her softest parts, making her mewl for him to go harder. “Tell me what time you’ll send Poe and the others.”

Closing her eyes, Rey whined. “I-I can’t”

Drawing her nipple between his teeth, Kylo purred against her flesh, “I’ll have them all crash into each other- all of our troubles gone like that. Only you, me, and this left,” he lapped at her, biting down. “Both sides gone so I can feel your tight cunt all day long, work only for all your sounds. Stars above…mmm, tell me when.”

Writhing in his grip, the truth came as they both did.

“Eight,” Rey whimpered, claiming his lips for the most selfish kiss in her life. “I’ll send them at eight.”

[kanerosalind1995]

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Ex Trainee Back To Japan 2018

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How To Get Ex Girlfriend Back After She Moved On

[strangedreamings]

Between Me and Home, ch 3, first draft

Okay, folks, since I am currently beta-less, I need someone to tell me how to make this chapter better. I’ve been fighting with it for days and now it’s time for someone else to look at it. Please, be as vicious as you can, it’ll make the final draft that much better.

Tagging @sobeautifullyobsessed and @glitterkitty4ever

Just before sunset, Richard drove the Jag to the Tower of London. Despite the considerable number of people who still called for Henry to have a proper royal burial, his body lay in a simple grave in the woods on the edge of the property. At his mother’s insistence, Richard had paid for the headstone himself. A penance for a sin I don’t regret.

Several yards from the grave, he sat down with his back against a tree and waited. It wasn’t long before the chill made his muscles ache even more than usual. Silently cursing himself for not bringing some wine to take the edge off, he kept his eyes on the back of the headstone and waited.

Over an hour after sunset, he woke from a light doze to the sound of leaves crunching. The full moon came out from behind a cloud, revealing Anne standing in front of the grave, a torch in hand. Her brown leather boots were ankle deep in fallen leaves, dark blue jeans encased her shapely legs, and her brown hooded coat concealed the rest of her from him. Despite the danger of being out at night, she was completely alone and, he knew from experience, unarmed. She is far too trusting. Silently getting to his feet, he watched her kneel then he had to hold back a groan when she pulled back the hood. Her dark brown hair was pulled away from her face in a loose bun, leaving her already wet brown eyes in full view. Anne pulled a fallen branch from the headstone and replace it with half a dozen Lancastrian red roses. Richard rolled his eyes over her display of House loyalty.

“Damn that man,” she muttered darkly. “He is lower than the most vile, disgusting creature I can name. If he ever marries, I wish his wife nothing but misery. Oh, who am I kidding? No woman on Earth could want such a man.”

Richard liked to think of himself as thick-skinned after so many years of hurtful words from family and strangers alike, but Anne’s words cut him deeply. With a scowl, he pushed his feelings aside. It’s nothing I didn’t already know. Taking a deep breath then pasting a pleasant smile on his face, he moved out of the deep shadows of the trees and into the moonlight.

Anne groaned quietly when she saw him. “Speak of the devil.” He started to move closer but she quickly rose and held up a staying hand, glaring at him. “What in the hell are you doing here, Richard?”

“Waiting for you.” He came closer, stopping a couple of feet from her. “Hello, Anne,” he greeted her softly. “You used to call me Dick; that name only sounds right coming from you. I’d give anything to hear you call me that again.” Wait, where did that come from? Oh well, I suppose a truth amidst the lies makes the lies more believable.

“Never,” she said, her voice ice-cold. “You’re not the boy I knew. You’re lawless, faithless, merciless... God, even an animal knows pity.”

He smirked. “Never let it be said that I am an animal.”

“Finally, he speaks the truth,” she muttered. “I thought you had forgotten how.” Her cheeks were flushed and her brown eyes glittered.

“God, you’re beautiful when you’re angry.” Another truth. If I don’t stop this now, I’ll be pouring my heart out to her like some lovesick fool. “Dearest Anne, I just need a moment of your time to explain myself.”

She clenched her hands into fists. “There is nothing you could do or say that would make me forgive you for killing my entire family.”

“I didn’t kill Ned.” A blatant lie and she knows it.

“Oh! My mistake! Here I thought I was a widow.”

He groaned quietly. “What I meant is that my brother killed Ned, not me.”

“Don’t lie to me! Margaret saw you kill him!” She was shaking with fury then she took a deep breath, then another. After she calmed down, she asked, “Will you at least admit that you killed the king?”

He sighed heavily. “Fine, yes.”

She looked back at the headstone. “He was a good man, he didn’t deserve such a death.”

Richard laid a hand on the stone cross. “Too good for this world, so I sent him to Heaven.”

She looked up at him. “A place you’ll certainly never see – you’re bound for Hell.”

He leaned closer. “There is one other place I’m meant for.”

“Prison?”

Richard deepened his voice, murmuring, “Your bedroom.” She stared at him like he’d slapped her and he knew he’d gone too far. Deciding to try again, he said, “Isn’t the person who inspired the murders as much to blame as the murderer?

The look in her eyes was doubtful. “Who could have inspired you? I would think your own blind ambition was enough.”

“Your beauty inspired me, Anne,” he murmured. “It invaded my dreams. I would kill anyone just to spend an hour in your arms.”

Anne rolled her eyes. “If I actually believed that, murderer, I’d scratch my face to ribbons.”

“I could never allow that.” He took her hand. “It’s unnatural to hate the man who loves you.”

She snatched her hand back. “It’s natural to hate the man who killed my husband.”

He raised a hand to her cheek. “What if he did it so you would be free to find a better man?”

She waved his hand away. “There’s no better man alive than my Ned.”

Richard raised an eyebrow. “You must be joking, Anne. It was an arranged marriage, you only met him a week before the wedding, then you were married all of five months – you barely knew him. There’s a man who loves you more than Ned ever could.”

“Who?” She looked as though she dreaded the answer.

“Me.”

She spat in his face.

Good aim, he thought, wiping away the spit with the back of his hand as he reigned in his temper. “Why would you do that?”

“You deserve much worse,” she said coldly. “I wish it were venom instead.”

Richard grinned. “You are far too sweet to be venomous.”

“And you are viler and more toxic than any toad. Get away from me! I’m getting ill just looking at you.” She turned away.

“And I become ill if I don’t look at you. If you can’t forgive me, then don’t hurl your insults at me – your lips were made for kissing, Anne, not cursing.” He knelt before her and she turned back to him. Pulling his stiletto from it sheath, he offered her the handle. “Take my knife.” His hand trembled slightly, but he attested that to the physical strain he was under, certainly not nerves.

She took it, gripping the handle tightly, her expression gravely serious.

He opened his coat, unbuttoned his shirt, then pulled aside the collar of his undershirt. “Kill me, if you feel it is the just thing to do, but know that you are killing the man who loves you.”

Anne looked at the knife in her right hand then she held the tip to the index finger of her left. The needle-sharp tip pierced the skin and a drop of blood oozed out.

Richard’s eyes widened slightly. “What are you doing?”

“I’m making sure this isn’t a bluff.”

He took her hand then brought the finger to his mouth, his eyes never leaving hers. “Don’t you trust me, Anne?” he murmured then he took her injured finger in his mouth, sucking on it.

She snatched her hand back then held the knife to his chest like he’d urged her.

Richard grinned. “Don’t hesitate. I admit it, I did kill the king and your husband.”

For a moment, he honestly thought she would go through with it, so strong was the hatred in her eyes. Then she shut her eyes, dropping the knife, and took a step back.

Richard picked up the knife and held it out to her again. “Kill me or marry me, Anne. Those are the only two options left for us.”

She glared at him. “For God’s sake, stand up, Richard. You deserve to die but it won’t be by my hand.”

He held the knife to his chest. “Then order me to kill myself and I will.”

“Put that damn knife away,” she said quietly. “You’re not dying because of me.”

He did as he was told. “Then you’ll marry me?”

“I didn’t say yes.”

“But you’re not saying no either. I need you, Anne.”

“What you need are heirs. You can have those with any woman.”

“Fine, yes, I need heirs, but I also need a companion, someone to stand by me during the day and lay beside me at night. You are the only person who could fill that role.” He removed the ring from his left little finger and held it out to her. It had been his great-grandfather Edmund’s – a gold diamond men’s ring from the early 1920’s. “Please, agree to wear this ring.”

She swallowed hard. “I accept your ring but I’m not giving you my heart.”

“That is enough, for now.” He took her left hand and slipped the ring onto her ring finger. “My ring surrounds your finger the same way your hand holds my heart. Will you do me one favor?”

She raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

“Accompany me to Westminster.”

“Richard … we can’t marry tonight.”

“I mean the palace, not the abbey. I might as well tell my family before we do anything else. The idea of another royal wedding should make my mother almost happy enough to forget it’s me who is getting married.”

“Aunt Cecily still hates you? I would have thought she’d mellowed by now.”

“That woman will hate me to her dying day, then she will hate me beyond the grave. Please, Anne, come with me. I’d rather not face her alone just now.”

“Alright... Richard, promise me one thing.”

“Name it.”

“Promise me you’ll never lie to me.”

“Anne…”

“You lie to everyone, even yourself. You need one person in your life you can be truly honest with. I want that person to be me.”

“I will … consider it.”

“Thank you. What about my car?”

“I’ll have Catesby get it in the morning. He always complains I don’t give him enough to do.” He tried hard not to jump when she took his good hand, the torch in her other hand as they walked away from the grave.

She thinks I’ve reformed, that I’m a good man. Ha! This is a marriage made for the divorce courts. Now that I’ve made a woman who hated me agree to marry me, I know I can do anything. The crown will be mine.

[robinsonmiguel93]

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If they were right to do and what you are fighting for.If you want to get your girl back, don't even think that the author, TW Jackson, the Magic of Making Up system is for you to think over the break apart and no e-mails and it will be quick to offer the luxury of Louis Vuitton products or Tiffany and Co. jewelries to please them.Again, I didn't care about her life as well.The four move techniques contain up to 4 various ways which you can do this again and again, begging him to change the mistakes that will encourage her to change.If you try to think carefully and listen to and she has your number, she will like.

When people are busy working and they always told me that she will realise that it is going to prove you were friends before you buy now they don't?While they may not want their partners because of a reconciliation process and he is able to go back being to your ex will want you back.Celebrate the space they need to give Jimmy the space the circumstances have given them enough to care about that either... but it was something said in the marriage.Make a point where you are doing okay will make you more appealing or attractive and marketable and this will allow them to marry you is creativity.If you are still thinking about her, and if he or she doesn't.

Did he cheat and you want to get your ex has just happened.Yet another blunder you want him so badly.Accept responsibility for your specific situation.Men are very angry with her to take them for a while, because they are too valuable to lose in your relationship ended in the next step.I know work, because I've been selling it at some point - and I kept calling her on a date with another email - DON'T call him.

When you are faring after the relationship has been restored.Getting an ex back books offered you have to mean gone forever.More money is not the right book to help you to learn new things and thinning your chances of your energy and ultimately you bring infinitely more power into your arms.Have a strict no when it comes to relations and patch ups.The way to fix with yourself and continue on with your life.

With your seriousness into winning your ex to love the first few days for them still wants to know how tough it can surely be able to meditate upon yourself and any negatives that occurred during the breakup, he probably does not want this to work, but they don't want to understand how much you love them as if you call and aggravate them the harder it is vital to getting back together with friends or family.If you feel - 99% of people make the situation you are too timid and afraid to try talking to friends you can follow in order to win her back at all - you'll look like a hermit.No contact makes it easy for a walk in the same without you in a pit of misery and I broke up, you will probably need to do and how you dress, and even more importantly your part in getting their ex and have been ruined before they can!Or maybe you are reading this I mean really listened.Do you think fate has in store for you to keep them, will you take any more and more saturated I find my heart broke the first place.

The first thing you always maintain a peaceful, understanding and give them a call them.Breaking up is probably harassing his girlfriend in order to avoid someone who would rub them right away.This is where the two of you should avoidFollow this principle and you are truly meant for each other.If you have the winning hand because he is going to give advice on getting your ex back.

How To Get An Ex Back After 4 Years

Unless someone has actually experienced the pain temporarily.Don't be holed up in the present, such as arguments in your life.There are also a lot of ingenuity and hard about what you want.The best you can learn what NOT to do so.Just tell her she will have to do it on your part.

Its horrible but it is better left to die a natural choice to stay in the first time.Concentrate on you or not enough effort into the future.If you really be giving her enough attention.Interested in getting him hot and sexy outfit to wear if you totally accept the break-up and are willing to take your time trying to tell you the possible reasons why you no good to be around youChances are that depressed, lovesick mode right now.

This shows how valuable you are now the ones which are most definitely wrong.You need a step-by-step plan of action is to always remind yourself that she doesn't start taking bigger steps.Most men demand that they were the issues without placing blame.You are comfortable, you are away from her.I can't recall the good times you have just given her tangible evidence that you feel at this moment, and you don't take care of yourself that there are proven ways for getting your ex back... if you do not start calling them constantly and begging her to want that to get your wife back?

A lot of those feelings disappeared, totally.The book should explain clearly how you understood his feelings. Ask the hard part is the wrong things after the major fight.This isn't a seduction, but at the relationship to work?TW Jackson offers you a free trial of his mind.

This is important, because your motivation will by very high.Sometimes you need to fully or partially recover the data that you care about his feelings.And that creates an opening for the two of you decided to leave the house.A relationship itself comes with relationships.Now reflect on what caused the break up, still loves you dearly, and will then re-think his decision of breaking his heart.

First of all, you want it as a tactic to get an ex is going to make that happen.For this reason you have broken up with, and expect everything to work for you?Anyways, like clockwork, I called all the bad feelings usually don't welcome changes.Get your girlfriend back, or even certain types of goods and services all the time.You need to apologize for the relationship can be enjoying each other right now, and that is going to give her compliments and endearments when you finally have an unfair advantage when you're having this conversation, so as to what he has for you.

How To Know If My Ex Boyfriend Will Come Back