#maybe it will help me finish ch11 WHO KNOWS

[the-lady-amphitrite]

should have been in bed an hour ago but ya girl managed to finally string together the whole of another scene for ofaoi while listening to the fic's playlist in the span of an hour!! we stay winning folks

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Riding High Ch11: It Was The Leprechauns...

Summary: Frank and Fliss bring Alex home and settle into their ‘new’ normal. Meanwhile the Circle of Truth, with honorary members Steve and Bill take Frank out to wet the baby’s head…although it isn’t so much wet as drowned! Drunk Frank anyone??

Warnings: Bad Language words.

Pairing: Frank Adler x Fliss Gallagher

A/N:  Ok, so I had a bit of fun with this one. Very Frank heavy but…yeah, who cares, he’s my weakness!! Also this song happens to be one of my favourites by one of my favourite Brit Pop era bands- always used to bounce about to this in the Indie Clubs in my city so give it a listen! Chapter Song: Disco Down by Shed 7 

Series Masterlist //  WIYPT Masterlist

And the plastic must keep spinning around forever, and the memories will flood and keep us together

As Frank slowed the truck to a stop Fliss smiled and looked out of the window. "Glad to be home?" Frank asked, turning to look at her and she reached through the gap in the front seats, gently placing her hand on Alex's tummy where he was fastened into the baby seat. "Yeah." She nodded, looking at Frank before giving him a soft kiss. "Yeah I am." Frank grinned again before he moved to get out of the car, opening the back door for Fliss, offering her his hand as she slowly slid out. He then made his way to the front passenger side and leaned in to unclip the car seat. As he did so his t-shirt rode up a little at the back and Fliss cocked her head to the side as the flash of his boxer shorts which were visible where his jeans had dropped slightly on his hips. "Are you wearing Spongebob underwear?" She asked and he gave a chuckle as he turned to look at her over his shoulder. "They're cool." He said, his eyebrow rising over the top of his aviators. "Whatever you say sailor."

"You bought em Cowgirl." he said, pulling back out of the car, the handle of the baby seat clutched safely in his hand. "Actually it was Mary." She smiled as he shut the car door. “They were her Father’s Day Specials if I recall correctly.” “Yeah they were.” He chuckled and at that moment the door to the house opened and the girl herself shot out, Thor running past her straight up to Fliss whereas Mary made her way to Frank, hugging him tightly. "Hey boy..." Fliss smiled, ruffling his head. Alex chose that moment to make a little simpering noise and Thor turned his head to look at him. Fliss closed her hand round his collar as Frank held the baby carrier still. The two of them watched as Thor gently pushed his nose into the car seat sniffing the curious new object and when Alex moved he jerked back, head cocking to one side before his tail began to wag furiously and he gave an excited little wine.

"He likes him!" Mary grinned.

"That right? He meet with your approval boy?" Frank asked and Thor pushed his nose back, this time concentrating on sniffing the baby.

"Ok, enough Thor, good boy." Fliss yanked him back, giving him another pat. "Let's get inside."

Frank took her hand in his and the two of them headed up the steps to the porch where Evelyn was waiting. Frank looked at her and stopped, pushing his aviators up.

“You look like shit.” He smirked. “She’s hungover.” Mary grinned.

“It was a heavy night.” Evelyn said in justification as Frank grinned at Fliss.

“Party went well then?” Fliss smiled and Evelyn groaned.

“Your dad brought out his home made coconut rum.” She said, following them into the cool house.

Fliss grimaced “Yeah, that’s deadly stuff. Me and Steve got wasted on that once, I was hungover for days.” “It tasted quite nice.” Evelyn said, “But it doesn’t feel very nice today.” Frank gently placed the car seat on the coffee table and turned to look at his mother “I’m not sure whether I should be embarrassed or proud. Maybe both.”

“Piss off Frank.” She shot back and he let out a bark of a laugh. “I’m going to make a cup of tea, does anyone want one?”

Fliss eagerly accepted as she sat down on the sofa, her hand reaching out to undo the fastenings on the car seat. She couldn’t wait to get Alex in her arms again. Frank perched on the arm of the sofa, his hand gently rubbing between Fliss’ shoulder blades as she cradled their gently, his head resting against her shoulder as he peeked around the room with his baby blues.

“How is he?” Mary asked as she approached, dropping onto the seat at the other side of Fliss.

“He’s good.” Fliss said, before she looked at Mary “Do you want to hold him again?”

Mary nodded eagerly so Frank stood up and moved round the back of the sofa, propping the cushions up to help Mary sit up right. Fliss placed Alex into her arms and he lay still, apart from his hands which gently fisted up by his face.

Evelyn had a hold next once she had finished her tea and then headed off to the annex for a lay down and to give them a bit of time alone, not wanting to overstep. Mary asked if she could head to the yard so Frank wandered out to watch her climb over the fence and head over to Joanne. The girl gave a wave which he acknowledged and then she shouted over to him.

“Hey daddy! How’s mommy?”

“She’s great!” Frank yelled back, beaming as he nodded to Mary “She gives you any trouble, send her straight home!”

Joanne waved him away and he turned and walked back inside, closing the door behind him.

Fliss was feeding Alex again when he walked back in and once he was done he went down for a nap which the new parents took full advantage of, grabbing some sleep themselves. They’d been up 3 times in the night with him, and sleeping whilst he slept seemed like a damned fine idea, even if it was only for 40 minutes or so until Frank woke up, his neck cricked from where he’d had it lay against the arm of the sofa, Fliss was snuggled up with her head on his chest, lay secure between him and the back cushions. He stayed as still as he could so as not to wake her, giving a soft huff of laughter at Thor who was led by the basinet, curled up, eyes on Alex. Frank found himself pondering if the dog could possibly know that their baby was what had been in Fliss’ belly and whether he could smell something or not to that effect because he was being extremely protective, the same way he had been over Fliss at the start of her pregnancy. As he watched the dog curiously, Fliss stirred a little and he gave her head a soft kiss, but she didn’t wake.

Yet their son did. He gave a little murmur, the beginnings of a cry and Franky quickly and quietly moved, keeping Fliss’ head supported enough as he grabbed a cushion and laid her down so she could continue to rest. He picked Alex up, and as suspected he needed a diaper change. That was one thing Frank had plenty of practice on. A little while later once he was cleaned he gently picked him back up and took him for walk round the ground floor of the house, talking to him softly as he went. A little while later he heard Fliss calling his name. He wandered back into the family area at the back of the house and she smiled at him.

“You ok baby?” he asked.

“Yeah, I just wondered where you were.”

“Been showing him round.” Frank smiled and glanced at Alex whose mouth was resting against his collar bone. “He’s been changed. Hasn’t made a noise since.” He watched as Fliss’ eyes fell on her son and he gently sat down next to her. “Do you want him?” She hesitated before she gave a little smile. “Of course I do but he’s your son too Frank.” “Maybe we need a snuggle rota.” He smiled.

Fliss laughed “I get enough momma bear time when he’s feeding, I can’t be too selfish about it. If he’s happy with you then I might grab a shower.”

“Have a bath and then take another nap if you need one.” Frank looked at her. “You had a busy day yesterday.”

“One way of putting it.” She smiled. “Erm, I was actually thinking that maybe before he wants feeding again I could take him to the Yard to meet Joanne and the guys?” "I forgot to say she asked after you before." Frank smiled, as he gently readjusted Alex slightly “Bet she’d love to see him, and it’ll give you chance to check everything is running smoothly." "Yeah.” Fliss smiled before she bit her lip and then looked at Frank. “Should I take him in the stroller or the baby sling?" "What do you wanna take him in?" Frank asked. "Well, the sling would be nice but it’s whatever is best for him, I mean it is warm and the sun-" "Liss, it’s almost 4 pm." Frank cut her off "The sun will be cooling off shortly and besides, we got him plenty of sun hats. Pop one on and just keep in the shade as much as you can, he’ll be fine I promise you." "Ok." She nodded, looking at Alex, still biting her lip. She was nervous, Frank could tell. And he knew that rather than letting herself get worried and tense about it, it was better to offer her his hand so to speak. She would soon come round once she realised that she could cope perfectly fine. "Do you want me to come with you?" He asked gently. "Please." She looked at him before she glanced at her hands. "I know it's stupid, Frank, but..." "Hey, no, it’s not honey." He assured her and waited for her to look at him and he smiled "Look, I’m nervous about stuff too." "You've done this before" "Only from 6 months." He said gently "But you helped Diane..." "You telling me you never helped out with Charlie and Joel when they were born?" he said calmly. She fell silent and he continued. "It's not a science, no matter what all those so called expert books and manuals say." He smiled gently "it's just a lot of instinct and love. And common sense." He added.

“That’s us fucked then” she quipped and he gave a soft chuckle as she shook her head, her hand smoothing over the back of her son’s head. "I know. You're right. I’m sorry." "Nothing to be sorry for." He assured her "I like that you’re telling me how you feel and that’s what we gotta do ok? Be honest with each other and do this together yeah?" She looked up at him and smiled "Yeah." He gave her a gentle kiss "I love you.” “You too.” She smiled, laying her head against his.

“Now, go on, get showered and then let’s go show our boy off."

***** The next few weeks flew by in a flurry of sleepless nights, feedings, changing nappies and outfits (both Alex’s and theirs following the amount of times he spit up on them) plenty of visitors and juggling a new baby with Mary's return to school. Frank grumbled one night to Fliss that with the amount of visitors they had, their front door should have been a revolving one but she knew that despite his gripes he was secretly low key pleased that his friends couldn't wait to meet Bean. It was tiring but thanks to some help and Advice from the health visitors and Fliss' mom they worked out a pretty good routine between the pair of them for night feeds, introducing Alex to formula was the best thing they did in Fliss' opinion because their baby fed an incredible amount. Which, apparently was another thing he got from his father according to Evelyn. A fortnight after Alex's birth, Frank returned back to work. Fliss had been reluctant to let him go, begging him to take an extra week but as he pointed out if he did that he would be stuck for the week before Christmas. In the end, because Fliss was flapping about being on her own with him for so long, Verity had come round for the first day to keep her company and be on hand. Frank knew that Fliss would get better as time went by and whilst she was still a little nervous- constantly worrying about the little noises or crying he did when she couldn't immediately figure out what it was he wanted- it was best she had someone there.

His theory that she would be fine in time was right, and by the middle of his first week back she was still a little tentative with certain things but happy to be on her own for the afternoons, Verity only coming in the mornings. And when he came back home on the Thursday evening, Fliss was actually over at the yard with Alex in the sling, chatting to Joanne and helping out with the lesson plans. It had made him beyond happy she'd ventured out alone, even if it was only to the end of their drive. The following week, on the Tuesday, she told Frank she was going to tell her mother not to come over the next day and Frank encouraged her to do so, reminding her that her parents and him were only a little drive away if she needed them. But she didn’t, she coped fine, just as he had assured her she would, even if she did message him a few times that morning which he didn’t mind at all.

On the Thursday, almost 3 weeks to the date she had gone into labour, Fliss was sat in the Garden with a drink and a book. Alex was sleeping in the cool of the kitchen, not far from the door so he was in eyesight at all times. Not that any harm would come to him with Thor on sentry duty, mind. The German shepherd had taken it upon himself to be the little boy's personal guard and was never far away. He lay by the bassinet when Alex slept there, curled down the side of their bed at night as Alex lay in the bedside sleeper and when the infant was being fed or cuddled he would jump up onto the couch if possible to watch or simply sit by the feet of whoever had him, eyes trained on them the whole time. Fliss was convinced Thor thought Alex was some kind of hairless puppy. She reached the end of her chapter and was just heading inside for a refill of iced tea (her craving for apple juice completely gone and she was back to hating the stuff) when her phone went.

“Yo, Titch…” Her brother spoke and she smiled “How’s that beautiful little Nephew of mine?” “He’s fine…and so am I thanks for asking.” “Yeah, well it ain’t all about you.” Steve said and Fliss rolled her eyes “Listen, me and dad are trying to get Frank to come out for a few beers tomorrow wetting the baby’s head to so to speak but he is refusing.” “He’s tired.” Fliss said, “Alex woke at 3 and didn’t settle till 5. Frank was up at 7 for work so he probably just wants to catch up on his sleep.” “Yeah, well he can sleep on Saturday.” Steve said “He’s been fobbing us now ever since we first asked 2 weeks ago.” At that Fliss frowned. “He didn’t mention you’d asked.” “He didn’t?” “No.” she said pausing. Whilst Frank had certainly calmed down on that respect since they had first gotten together, it wasn’t like him to turn down the offer of a night out with the boys, and she could only assume it was down to Alex.

“Well we have and Dad’s desperate to take him out for a few beers. Can you see if you can work your magic?” “You want me to beg my fiancée to go out drinking, whilst I stay at home with our 3 week old baby?” Fliss asked.

“Yes.” Steve replied simply “You’re a dick.” She shook her head, “I’ll mention it to him when he gets back but I’m not promising anything.”

Frank arrived home a little over an hour later, to find Fliss led on one of the sun-loungers in the shade, Alex resting on her chest, her bare legs stretched out in front of her.

“Busy afternoon?” he quipped and she pulled her shades down to glare at him. “That was a joke.” “We had a very busy day actually.” She looked up at him. “We went to the store this morning, then to see Roberta this afternoon, and then came home, I made meatloaf for dinner and then I had a few hours out here whilst he slept. Then he barfed up all over me and now I have sick in my hair.”

Frank let out a laugh and shook his head as she bent her legs so he could perch on the end of the lounger. She shifted a little and cocked her head.

“Where’s Mary, and why are you so clean?” “Mary has gone up to see Monty and I’m clean because I’ve been in the office and shop all day working on the rotas and a few other pieces of administration for when Alan leaves.” He shrugged “I apologise sincerely for the lack of grease and dirt.” “So you should.” She grinned “But, seeing as you’re so clean…” she moved and sat up slightly so she could hand Alex over to his daddy who took him tenderly, pressing a kiss to his head.

“Why don’t you grab a shower if you’re bothered about your hair?” he offered and she nodded, standing up.

“Hey, I was thinking this weekend you could try him in the pool” she shrugged “I can’t go in for another couple of weeks yet, according to google but you could.”

Frank hesitated “How about we wait, then we can do it together huh?”

“Ok.” She smiled “I won’t be long.”

He shook his head “Take as much time as you need. Not going anywhere.”

“Hmm, yeah, I heard.” Frank looked at her “What?”

“Steve called before. Said that Dad’s been trying to get you to go out for a drink but you’re refusing.” Frank let out a groan. “They've been on at me for the last week or so, as have the Circle Of Truth boys. Say I need to go wet the baby’s head so to speak.” “You should” she looked at him. “It’s tradition.” Frank pulled a face.

“Are you seriously turning down a night out?” Fliss looked at him.

“No, just temporarily putting it on hiatus”

Fliss snorted “Loser.” “I don’t see you clamouring to go out.” He looked at her.

“Well, actually, I was thinking of going to Lunch with Bonnie on Sunday.” Fliss shrugged “She said Rio’s are launching a new menu so…” “You should go.” Frank encouraged her, smiling softly.

“I will if you go out on Friday.” She shot back. Frank rolled his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Why are you so keen to get rid of me for a night?” “I’m not.” Fliss shrugged “Just think it’s nice that they all want to celebrate with you.” She paused and looked down at her hands before she took a breath and looked back up a Frank. “You’re not refusing to go because you don’t think I can cope are you? Because-“ “No, no baby of course not.” He shook his head sincerely “That’s not it at all, I just, well I wasn’t that bothered.”

“Ok.” She nodded, accepting his answer.

Frank watched her for a second, mulling things over. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go and see everyone, but he just enjoyed being at home. It was strange in a way. When he had moved down here with Mary, pretty much right from the off when he met Roberta he’d taken his Friday nights and Saturday mornings as his own, and he’d needed them or he would have probably gone insane. But now, it was different. And he knew it was because Fliss was here too. Someone to spend the evenings with when Mary was in bed. That said, he also knew it was important for them to have their own time as well, and if he was honest, the idea of wetting his own baby’s head was kind of appealing. “Actually…” he said, looking down at Alex. “I think I will go. The more I think about it, the more fun it sounds. And we did it for both of Jake’s so..” She smiled and stood up, giving him a soft kiss. “Good, you can call Steve and give him the good news.” Frank watched her head inside before he looked down at Alex who was fisting his tiny hands around his open button down. Smiling, he shifted slightly, holding him up with one strong arm as he grabbed his phone in the other. First he sent Steve a quick message calling him a sly bastard and then fired one off to the Circle Of Truth chat saying they were on for drinks. Steve replied first with a simply middle finger emoji along with the words “see you tomorrow.”

“Your Uncle is a pain in the ass.” He grumbled to Alex before he smiled, stood up and headed inside to grab a Bud.

******

“Right does everyone have a beer?” Bill looked around the group. Steve, Frank, Simon, Greg and Jake all raised their bottles. “Ok then, in honour of my beautiful daughter giving birth to my third amazing grandson, Alexander Francis William. Cheers lads!”

Frank smiled and raised his beer as the group all let out various cheers and calls, before taking a large drink from his bottle.

“Still can’t believe you stuck the name Francis in there.” Jake looked at Frank who raised his middle finger in response.

“Get fucked, and I didn’t. Fliss did.” “Clearly delirious with the pain.” Simon nodded and Frank rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah laugh it up…” he took a drink from his bottle.

They stood chatting for an hour or so before Simon decided it was time for shots. There were groans and half-assed protests, Greg complaining loudly that a Head Wetting night was supposed to be civilised. At that Frank almost choked on his beer and turned to his best friend, shaking his head.

“Greg, the last Baby’s Head wetting we went to for Jake’s Annie, you were kicked out of the burrito place for spilling drinks all over the table and trying to wipe up the mess with other people’s tortillas.”

The group laughed and Greg shrugged. “Well at last I’ve never hid in the bushes and called four Ubers to play hide and seek.” He pointed at Frank who snorted.

“That was…yeah…it was a very heavy night.” “No shit.” Jake mumbled “I woke up in the morning looking for my phone. Couldn’t find it anywhere but there was like a random piece of toast on the nightstand. Then I heard Lisa shouting. My phone was in the microwave covered with melted cheese.”

Steve snorted at that and hastily turned away as his beer came out of his nose, causing Frank to laugh even harder as Bill chuckled and shook his head.

“I was staying at my mom’s that night.” Simon mused as the laughter died down. “I was in between apartments remember? I woke up in the dog’s bed downstairs. Apparently she had come down from bed when I came in and I told her I felt sorry for Barney sleeping in the kitchen alone and I climbed into his basket with him…she just left me there.”

“You lot are worse than my gang, and that’s saying something.” Steve grinned.

“Bull shit.” Frank pointed at him. “Fliss told me loads of stuff you used to get up to.”

“Yeah, come on Ringo, you must have some stupid drunk tales.” Jake turned to Steve who grinned.

“Oh I got plenty as Frankie boy said, thing is a hell of a lot of them involve Fliss.” He shrugged and the boys laughed, Frank snorting.

“I think my personal favourite was the time you set fire to the kitchen curtains.” Bill said, and Steve grinned.

“Yeah we were high then though Dad, not drunk.”

“High?” Simon looked at Steve before he glanced at Frank who shrugged “Damned Frank, your girl’s a little bit of a rebel on the sly ain’t she?” “You have no idea.” Frank smirked, raising his eyebrow.

“Dude that’s my sister.” Steve nudged him and Frank shrugged, taking another swig of his beer.

“She was though.” Bill smiled fondly “You and her were always up to mischief. As soon as she was old enough to go drinking she was hanging around with your lot.”

“That was because she fancied Lee.” Steve snorted.

The group all sniggered and Frank laughed “Is that the guy she dated for a year or so?” “Yes, much to my disgust.” Steve narrowed his eyes.

“Was his disgust too when you punched him.” Bill said and Steve sighed.

“He was shagging my little sister.” He shook his head. “Just…no.”

The group all snorted and Frank groaned “Ok, I don’t want to know anymore…” “You have no room to be all coy about it!” Simon looked at him “Your antics in here before you got with Fliss…”

“Yeah, yeah…” Frank sighed “Can we change the subject?”

At that point he felt someone shove him in the back and he stumbled forward, banging into Steve, spilling his beer slightly. There was a bit of a commotion as the rest of the group all rallied behind him and Frank spun round.

“Really, really sorry…” A dark haired man with a strong Irish accent was apologising to the group “I tripped and…” “Fine, just watch where you’re going yeah?” Steve looked at him as Frank brushed his shirt down.

“He just said he was sorry.” The man to his left, a smaller red head shot back “It was an accident.” “Yeah and I was just telling him to be more careful.” Steve frowned.

“Or what?”

Bill sighed and turned round “Look, we don’t want any trouble. Apology accepted so…”

The two men eyed up the group before they turned away and headed for the bar.

“Right…” Simon said, breaking the tension slightly “Shots and then who’s up for a game of pool?”

“Do we have to? I’m crap.” Steve shook his head and Frank looked at him.

“Yeah, I heard that before from a Gallagher.” He snorted. Steve and Bill frowned and he explained to them both “On our first date Fliss hustled me big time, right at that table actually...” Steve snorted “She used to do that to all of my mates. 9 times outta 10 we’d come home with more money than we started with.” He paused and looked down at his feet, before watched Bill as he turned to Simon who was heading to the bar, following him over, making insistences that he was paying again as it was his Grandson’s party so to speak. He looked back at Frank and smiled. “Dad’s right, she was fun. We had some good times, thick as thieves before she met that cunt and left for Boston.”

“Yeah she told me a bit about how close you were.” Frank smiled “But you still are now. It’s nice.” “Got you to thank for that.” Steve looked at him “She’s back to her old self, better dare I say it.”

Frank smiled shyly, the way he always did when he was accredited with Fliss’ ‘turn-around’. “I don’t know if I can take full credit for it, I mean…” “You gave her another chance.” Steve cut him off “A chance of happiness with a guy that’s decent and treats her right.” He shrugged “Just the way we all see it anyway.” Frank’s mind flickered back to the moments after Alex had been born when Fliss had rather tearily declared pretty much the same to his face. He shrugged and smiled softly “Yeah, well, I was a mess until I met her to so…I guess you could say we helped each other out.” At that point a shot of tequila was shoved into his hand along with a wedge of lime and Simon held up the salt shaker.

“Drink, bitches!” he grinned, and Frank let out a soft groan. This was going to get messy.

******

A couple of shots later and several more rounds of beer, the group were all starting to feel the effects of the alcohol, so when Bill ordered them all a bourbon, none of them really raised much of a protest.  They stood by the pool table, the game of killer taking a lot longer than it would have had they were sober and Simon slung his arm over Frank’s shoulder.

“Can you keep a secret?” he asked and Frank looked at him, squinting a little.

“Well it depends.” Frank replied “On what it is. Like if you killed someone I might be obliged to tell the police…” “What about if he was an ass hole and deserved to die?”

Frank paused, before he took a mouthful of his bourbon “OK, well maybe not in that instance.” Simon nodded “Good to know, but no..it’s…” he looked around and then grinned “Imma ask Bonnie to marry me.” “No way man!” Frank beamed, “That’s awesome. Congratulations.” “She aint said yes yet.”

“Well why wouldn’t she?”

Simon shrugged “I know, I’m a catch.” Frank laughed. “No, I’m pleased for you pal.” “Thanks.” Simon smiled “You know, I still don’t think it’s fair you’ve seen her naked and I aint seen Fliss…” Before Frank could reply and call him an asshole Steve jumped in “I’m sorry what?” Frank groaned. “Nothing, Simon was…” “Frank slept with my girl.” Simon said bluntly, “Before Fliss…” he added hastily as Steve’s frown deepened. Steve looked at Frank. “You were with Bonnie?” “Not really, it…” Frank groaned “It was one night, we were drunk…can we not do this?”

“Does Fliss know?” Steve looked at Frank, a smirk on his face.

“Yes she does, she saw us. It nearly ended up in us not getting together in the first place so I really don’t wanna think about it.” “Apparently in the middle of giving Bonnie one he said Fliss’ name.” Simon grinned and Frank let out a loud groan as Steve choked on his drink.

“I fahkin’ hate you.” Frank glared at Simon who was now laughing into his glass.

“Oh my God, Frank…” Steve smacked him on the back “The more time I spend with you the more I love you pal.” “Thanks…I think…” “Hey, you guys ever gonna finish this game or what?”

They all turned to look at the Irish guys who had bumped into them before.

“I dunno, maybe.” Jake stood up, leaning on his cue, “Why?”

“Coz we’ve been waiting for hours.”

“Well then you can just wait longer.” Steve shot back, and the group sniggered.

“Fucking Yanks…” The guy mumbled as he turned around and Steve narrowed his eyes.

“Who you calling a Yank you stupid Irish prick, I’m from Liverpool.” “Ok, ok…let’s…” Bill spoke loudly, hiccupping a little as he put his arm out to stop Steve who had been walking towards the man that had spoken “Just calm down alright. Soon as we’re done you can have the pool table.”

“Yeah so hot foot back to the other Leprechauns over there…” Steve waved him away.

“Steven.” Bill warned him, shaking his head. Steve looked at his dad before he shrugged and turned back to Frank who was stood there, grinning.

“You know what Steeby?” Frank drained his glass “The more I hang with you, the more I love you too…”

It was an hour or so later when they all stumbled out of the bar and after hugs and backslaps they headed to their various waiting Ubers. As they passed a large blue truck, Bill paused before he unsteadily dropped to his feet.

“What are you doing?” Frank swayed a little, before he turned to Steve “What is he doing?”

Steve stumbled a little and shrugged “Dad…what…are you letting the air out of the tyre?” “Yup” Bill said, standing up, wiping his hands on his jeans before he pushed one through his short, grey hair. “It belongs to those little Irish wankers in the bar, saw one of them get out of it before.” Frank looked at his future father in law, before he looked at Steve who was smirking ear to ear.

“I told you when you were a kid.” Bill pointed at Steve as the three of them staggered to the waiting car. “Easy, easy catchy monkey.”

*****

"Heyyy." Frank beamed as he stood in the doorway. Fliss looked up and smiled as he walked a little unsteadily towards her. "Hi beautiful". "Hi handsome." She smiled back as he leaned down over her. He smelt of beer and bourbon as he placed a soft kiss to her lips and she grinned "good time?" "Well..." he perched on the arm next to her and glanced down at Alex, his finger smoothing his hungrily working cheek "we certainly wet his head so to speak." He hiccupped slightly and Fliss looked up at him, smiling "yeah, it appears that way" "Your dad's fault." He said, sliding off the arm of the sofa onto the seat next to her, sprawling out slightly, his long legs stretching out in front of him "He kept buying it. I mean one minute my glass was empty and the next it was full again." "Sure he twisted your arm..." "He did, honest Lissy..." Frank nodded "I kept saying no more...I need to get home to my girls and my boy but Bill...he is BAD" Fliss looked at Frank who was watching Alex feed before his eyes flickered up to hers and he grinned. "Your boobs look great." She snorted "Sorry but for the time being they belong to your son." "Lucky bastard" "Well I hate to point it out to you but that's actually what they're designed for." "Hmmm" Frank closed his eyes. "Go to bed." Fliss nudged him gently "In a minute..." he said before his eyes flicked open "Ah fahk." "What?" Fliss asked as Alex pulled away having had his fill. She adjusted herself then him so he was over her shoulder as Frank stood up. "My jacket." "Baby you didn't take one." "Yes I did." He insisted. "Frankie I promise you, you didn't." He looked at her, before be clicked his fingers and pointed "it was the leprechauns."

“The leprechauns?”

Frank nodded “Yes, the Irish guys…they must have taken my jacket.”

Fliss looked at him, before she shook her head “Ok, course he did. You should speak to him tomorrow and get it back.” “I intend to.”

“You do that.”

“I will.” He nodded firmly before he turned and headed out of the room, banging onto the frame as he went.

Fliss laughed quietly at him, before she reached for her phone and text her mum asking her if she was awake.

“I wasn’t until your dad and brother turned up 20 minutes ago. They're in a right state.”

“So is Frank, keeps talking about a leprechaun stealing his jacket...but he didn’t even take one with him.” “Your Dad was grumbling about Irish Tourists and then started laughing about a flat tyre or something. Maybe that has something to do with it.”

“God knows, they’re going to be so hungover tomorrow.” “I’ve left your dad asleep on the kitchen floor after he lay down there hugging a plate of left-overs from dinner. Steve at least managed to make it to his room.” Fliss exchanged a few more amusing messages with her mother before she gave a yawn and glanced down at Alex. He was nodding off again so she stood up, turned off the lights and headed upstairs.

Frank was face down on the bed in his shirt and boxers. Fliss shook her head, smiling as she placed Alex down in the bedside sleeper, tucking him in before she moved round the bed towards Frank.

“Frankie…” she gently nudged him. “Sailor…” He mumbled into his pillow.

“Ok, come on…” she nudged him again. “Take your shirt off and get in bed.” Frank let out a dirty chuckle as he pushed himself up, pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor. Then he reached up, grabbed Fliss and pulled her down onto the bed, laughing as she let out a little squeak of surprise. He leaned over her, smiling down before he gave her a soft kiss.

“I love you. And I can’t wait to marry you.” He said, “In fact...I think we should set a date. Properly and book it. We did say this time next year.”

Fliss smiled and ran her hand through his hair, her hand making its way down to his neck where she gently scratched his skin with her nails. He closed his eyes, making a soft noise of satisfaction in his throat.

“Sounds good to me.” She smiled. He opened one eye and grinned.

“Yeah?” “Yeah.” She nodded. “But we can talk about it in the morning? Bean’s gonna be up again in a few hours and I need some beauty sleep.” “Nah you don’t” he shook his head “You’re gorgeous.” Fliss chuckled “Smooth.” “I try.” He said, giving her another kiss before he pulled away “But before we go to sleep, can you do me a favour?” “What?” “Can I see your boobs? Just see em, I promise, no touchy…” he held his hand up, giving her his best puppy dog eyes, even if they were slightly glazed from the alcohol.

Fliss arched an eyebrow at him before she sat up, and pulled the shirt she was wearing up to flash her chest at him. Frank gave a moan and she laughed before she dropped her top down to cover herself up.

“You’re killing me sweetheart.” He mumbled, pushing his face into the crook of her neck. He placed a soft kiss just under her ear, trailing his lips down her neck to her jaw line.

“Frank…” Fliss sighed, her eyes closing as his lips met hers, his kiss strong and passionate. She let herself go with it for a moment, enjoying the feeling. She loved kissing him, it was pretty much her favourite thing to do, and it helped he was so damned good at it. Eventually she pulled away and pressed her forehead to his. “Baby I can’t not yet…” “I know, I know.” He sighed, “Sorry. I just…” She smiled, reaching up and cupping his face “It’s ok.” “Just so you know, as soon as you can, I’m gonna fuck you senseless.” He mumbled, giving her another soft kiss.

“Wow, romantic. The first time we can do it after I give birth to your kid you’re gonna fuck me senseless.” “Yeah but, I’ll make you feel gooood.” He drew out the word and she grinned.

“You always do Sailor.” He smiled, his lips once more pecking hers before he pushed himself up and started pulling the bed covers down. He settled sideways on the bed, leaning over her slightly to glance at Alex who was sleeping before Fliss turned off the light and settled next to him as his arms wrapped around her from behind, pulling her close.

[smol-and-grumpy]

Sky Full Of Stars - CH11

Sequel to Something Just Like This

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: He’s Dean Winchester, ex mobster boss, still a little cocky, less ruthless and not at all short tempered anymore. Instead, he thinks he’s hilarious (she doesn’t agree, though). They both try to live a quiet life. And Dean hopes, very hard, that his former life won’t come knocking at their door.

Warnings: Angst, mention of depression, fluff

WC: 3205

A/N: This is the end, guys. I’m sad. I hope you enjoy the last chapter and thank you for letting me take you on this fabulous ride ❤️

SERIES MASTERLIST

...SIX MONTHS LATER…

 Dean’s sitting on their terrace in the big rocking chair. It’s already dark and cold. Ella’s sitting on his one thigh, cuddling close to him and Neo’s on his other side. Dean has a big blanket draped over all of them, so they would stay warm. 

It’s only a little past 8pm but it’s the weekend and Ella doesn’t have to go to school the next morning so he spoils her by allowing her to stay up past her usual bedtime of 7pm. They finished roasting marshmallows in their fireplace in the backyard and they have now brushed their teeth and changed into their pj’s. 

He’s doing that a lot with the kids now. He wants them to see the privilege of living so far out, wants them to see the beauty of being able to see stars. A view one shouldn’t take for granted. They’re outdoorsy, both of them love to be outside and play and he’s glad they have the chance to do that with their big garden and a treehouse by the creek.

Neo clasps his hand over Dean’s eyes while Dean looks up to the night sky. 

“See? See?” The little guy says and Dean has to chuckle.

“Buddy, I ain’t seeing a thing. Where are the stars?”

And then Ella joins in, her little hands on his face, squeezing at his cheeks and then she covers his nose. 

“And now I can’t even breathe,” He gasps, plays along.

The kids are giggling and Dean likes that, likes to hear them happy. 

He begins to tickle them both, and both of them are writhing in his lap. 

“Daddy, stop!” Ella’s still giggling like crazy.

“Stop doing what?” 

“Tickling us!”

“Only when you guys will let me look up at the stars and it'll be nice if I could breathe,” Dean’s still tickling.

“‘K!” Neo says, the little boy still laughs wholeheartedly, and Ella seems to agree with her brother for once because they settled next to him again, both trying to catch their breath.

Dean stares up, the sky is full of stars tonight, that’s why it’s so cold out. Their breathing fog up but they’re warm underneath the blanket. 

“What do you guys see?” He asks his children, sometimes their imagination run wild and they would see all kinds of things in the star’s constellation.

“Mommy,” Neo says. 

“Mommy?” Dean asks and he squints his eyes, trying to see what Neo sees.

“Ah, I see her too,” Ella joins in. 

“Yeah, now I see mommy too. Her nose is a little big, though,” The children are giggling again and Dean kisses the top of both their heads, “Come on, what else,”

“Princess!” Ella calls out.

“Dinosaur!” Neo tries to be louder than his sister.

Dean smirks and he just leans back, bathing himself in the momentarily joy. 

They get interrupted not even fifteen minutes later, when Linda comes to stand next to him. “I think it’s time for bed now,”

Linda had moved in to help him take care of the kids and that woman still gives him the creeps sometimes. Dean would never admit it to her, though. 

He gladly took the offer at that time, although he’s probably never going to get used to it. He even had another room built right above the garage so that Linda can live comfortably while she helps him. Dean didn’t want to employ a real nanny, didn’t see the need when he can rely on people he already knows and trusts. He has a hard time trusting anyone new lately. 

“You heard Linda, guys,” Dean kisses his children good night and lets Linda take Neo from his lap. The little boy started to walk yesterday. Another milestone reached. 

“Night daddy,” Ella whispers and pulls him down by the collar to give him another kiss.

“Night, El-baby,” 

“The physical therapist just left,” Linda balances Neo on her arms. The boy is already so big, it makes Linda look even smaller than she already is.

“Okay,” Dean answers, and watches Linda go in with his kids.

 Y/N can hear the chatter in her children’s rooms. Her room is black, only the light from the stars shining through the window. She looks up at the night sky, knows that Dean has spent the evening with the kids outside while she had her physical therapy session. Futile therapy sessions. With a private therapist who probably wants way too much money for the little progress they make.

“Hey,” She hears Dean slip in and he closes the door behind him, “You okay?” 

He walks over, leans in to place a kiss on the top of her head. 

Dean knows not to talk too much. She’s always frustrated and sad after a therapy session. If she can avoid it, she’d like to not see anybody at all.

She doesn’t answer him and Dean knows why, he’s used to it by now and it makes her feel even more guilty. 

After Dean shot Crowley, Crowley’s finger managed to pull the trigger, shooting her in the back. Unfortunately it went through her body in a weird angle, injuring her spine and puncturing her lung, too. She’s been in the hospital for almost a month, half of the time was spent in an induced coma. 

Waking up, Dean was by her side and it was a long road to get where she is now. Which is not really far and she doesn’t really know if she has the strength to go on. It’s frustrating when she works so hard without feeling or seeing any progress at all.

Dean kneels down and starts to massage her legs. He’s doing a daily range of motions exercises with her to help her along, not missing a single day since he started.

She watches him work on her legs, doesn’t feel a fucking thing at all and she’s tired, exhausted as hell after the therapy. Y/N doesn’t want to come across as ungrateful but she can’t help but wonder why he does all this. Why does he keep on going when everything seems so lost? 

And maybe she shouldn’t have let her mind wander to the dark place but she’s there now and she’s angry at herself, at Dean, at everything. 

“Why are we doing this, Dean,” It’s not really a question, more a fact. “Why are you still here?”

Y/N told him when he brought her back to the house that she’d get it if he wants to leave, maybe it’s still the effect of the words Crowley planted in her head. In fact, she even wants him to. Wants him to leave her and the children here and go live a quiet life somewhere without the burden of having to take care of the kids and her. 

Because that’s what she’s become. A burden that Dean has to carry, with being the only one who can take care of the kids — because she doesn’t have the strength to do it yet — on top of everything else. He didn’t sign up for this life and she gets it, because she didn’t either but she’s unfortunately still here and she has to somehow make it work. There’s no need for him to stay with her.

Dean looks up at her, the crease between his eyebrows deepens. He looks hurt. 

“It’s true. You’re doing so much but you don’t have to. I told you that I can manage. We’re going to be fine. Go have a boys week, I don’t know,” She’s tearing up and she actually doesn’t want to. Her grip on the arm of her wheelchair is tight, her knuckles are turning white. Dean’s unfazed, keeps on massaging the muscles in her legs, pretends he didn’t hear her, “You can still get out, you know. I don’t want to tie you down. I don’t want you having to take care of me. This is not what I fucking want!”

“Jesus Christ, Y/N! We’ve been through this, didn’t we,” Dean growls, he’s angry, she knows but she is too, so.

“And you know it’s fucking true! You’re always present. You’re taking care of all of us but who’s taking care of you, huh? We both know that it ain’t me, Dean! I can’t even take care of myself! You don’t deserve this! You deserve something better,” 

“Shut up,” Dean snaps, but his hands aren’t stilling, he continues to knead at her muscles. 

“You tend to our needs but what about you? What about your needs?”

“Fucking Christ, Y/N, shut up!” He gets loud and it makes her flinch.

She’s biting back at him though, “Tell me, what do you want, Dean? It sure as hell isn’t this fucking life! Tell me, what do you really want?!” She’s shouting and she can’t stop crying. 

Dean places her leg back and rubs over his face with both his hands. Her heart thumps in her chest, she knows that she’s being unreasonable but she’s really not doing great at the moment. 

“I need you, alright?” Dean’s loud and he’s shaking, “I fucking need you! How do you not get that?” He’s slowly breaking. She can see the tears pool in his eyes, see his shoulder trembling, “I FUCKING WANT YOU!” He screams before he lays his head in her lap, his arms hugging her middle when he begins to sob with his face buried in the cleft of her thighs. 

She’s sobbing with him, strokes at his hair, her hands wandering down his trembling back as far as she can reach. 

Dean’s breakdown was long overdue. She heard from Cas that he didn’t shed a tear once. Didn’t let himself show any emotions at all except for when he’s around his kids. 

All Y/N said was true though. She doesn’t want that for him. Dean didn’t deserve that. But she might have gone overboard as well, triggered by her own frustrations and insecurities. And maybe she did use that to get him to break. She needed to get it out somehow. Maybe they all need to break in order to be able to put the pieces back together again and make it better.

He comes up, sniffs and brushes at his face with his hands before he takes his wet hands and cradles her face with it. He brushes at her tears with the pad of his thumbs and leans his forehead on hers, “I fucking want you to come back to us, alright? It physically pains me to know that your mind makes you think you’re worthless. I want you to see that life’s fucking worth living for, I need you to see it! Even this life is worth living for! I love you. We all do! I want you to be able to see our kids grow up, I want you to find joy, I fucking want to see you happy. I want you to come back to me!” 

She cries some more and he kisses her. Their faces, their lips, it’s all wet. 

“This depression is a bitch but I won’t give up, I refuse to give up,” Dean brushes his knuckles along her cheek as he lays his forehead back on hers, “I want you to come back to us, and I’m gonna be here waiting for the day you’re ready to come back. I’m not gonna fucking give you up. I fought too hard to be where we are now, I’m not letting a goddamn wheelchair stand in the way of what we can be. And you shouldn’t either.”

“Dean,”

“Shh, baby,” He hushes her, kisses her again, “Let's get you to bed.”

 ...ONE YEAR LATER…

Dean’s having one of his campfire nights with the kids, and they’re grilling marshmallows by the fire. 

It’s a clear night, they’re lucky with the weather this year. Summer wasn’t too hot and it seems like this Winter’s going to be a mild one. It helps with the wheelchair when there’s not too much ice and snow around whenever they need to go somewhere.

Linda’s still living here but Y/N’s doing better so he thinks that Linda can go home if she wants to but he also wouldn’t mind if she’d stay. He’s warmed up to the woman, and he can see that she’s warming up to him as well. Maybe she changed her mind about him, she must have. She even starts to cook now too, with the false pretense that she doesn’t really like the food Dean’s cooking. Her plate’s always empty, so he guesses that it’s Linda’s way to tell him that she’s ready to be involved more. 

Dean never told her to, though. He even said that she can go back whenever she likes but she has stayed and he thinks with Linda being here, Y/N has more reason to fight either. Maybe it’s also because Linda’s a cold hearted bitch when it comes to sorry excuses. She pep talks and drills Y/N until Y/N’s exhausted. Linda’s worse than a physical therapist, which they stopped calling in after the breakdown they both had. Linda’s more reliable, Linda knows Y/N’s limits. She also doesn’t get paid to crawl into someone ass and pretend that everything’s looking fine and Y/N made progress when the progress is zero and everything’s, in fact, not fucking fine. 

He’s sitting around the campfire, Neo’s on his lap, and Dean has one arm secured around the toddler. He’s afraid that Neo will fall into the fire if he isn’t holding him. 

When Dean looks away from the fire, he sees Linda wheeling Y/N into the backyard. They must have been going around the house because Linda couldn’t carry Y/N and the wheelchair down to the yard from their terrace. 

Inside of their house it’s a whole different story. They have two wheelchairs on both levels, so it’s easy if they can just carry her up and down and sit her right back into a ready wheelchair. Maybe Dean needs another one especially made for the terrain of their garden. 

Y/N’s smiling and so does Linda. Dean wonders what they’re up to.

Seeing her smile makes his heart leap and he smiles back. 

Her smile’s a rare sight, it’s absolutely rare seeing the genuine smile on her face. It makes him realize how much he misses it. How much he’s missing her. She’s slowly coming back and they’re nowhere near where they want to be, or rather where he wants them to be, but they’re slowly but surely taking baby steps into the right direction. 

She keeps on fighting and so does he.

Y/N’s around more either. Sometimes she would come down to sit around the couch with the kids. She’d read them stories, and Dean would listen too. And in those moments, it feels like they have gotten some normality back. In those moments, he can feel that she’s slowly accepting that her legs might never work again, accepting that she might be bound to a wheelchair to the end of her days. 

Dean’s also happy that she doesn’t doubt herself anymore, and by proxy, doesn’t doubt him. She can finally accept and wrap her head around the fact that he’s here to stay. Wrapping her mind around the fact that he’s not backing out just because something becomes uncomfortable. Just because something doesn’t fit the norm. He’s too old and too tired to give up on all that they’ve built up. He couldn’t leave this life, mainly also because all other lives don't seem worth living. 

He’s got his children, he has her. There’s really nothing else for him to wish for.

“Mommy!” Ella abandons her stick with a half burned marshmallow and skips towards Y/N and Linda. Neo’s getting restless in Dean’s grip. He watches as Ella runs to her mom and sits on Y/N’s lap, letting Linda push both of them forward.

Linda comes to a halt about three yards short of him and Ella gets out. Dean watches with raised eyebrows as Y/N grabs one leg after another, sets it on the cold solid ground.

And then, Dean can’t believe his own eyes when Y/N pushes herself up from the chair. 

Linda comes around, gives Y/N a hand to help steady her while Ella holds on to her mommy’s other hand. 

Dean can’t stop the tears even if he would try. He brushes at his eyes to be able to see better. 

“Daddy why are you crying?” Neo tilts his head around because of course he couldn’t hide that from the kids. Ella’s by Dean’s side now too, as she weaves her arms around Dean’s neck to kiss at his cheek.

“Daddy, mommy can walk!” Ella shouts out, her tiny voice’s full of excitement. 

“I can see that, yeah,” Dean chokes out but he’s smiling, and he still watches her, watches how her face frowns in concentration. 

“Why don’t cry,” Neo says again and Dean doesn’t really want to? He just really has to. 

“Why’s daddy crying?” Ella asks Neo, as if her brother knows the answer.

“Daddy’s just really happy,” Dean whispers, has to compose himself as not to break down in front of his kids, and then he stands up and lets Neo walk around, the little boy speeds to his mommy and Dean follows. 

When he’s close enough, he takes over from Linda and Linda takes the kids, walks with them back to the campfire as Dean steadies Y/N around her waist with one arm. His other arm trails along her cheeks. It has been more than a year since they saw each other eye to eye like this, with her being able to hold herself up on her own two feet.

She’s sweating and her cheeks are flushed. It probably needed more strengths than Dean could ever imagine. 

He kisses her, holds her a little tighter, “You can walk,”

“I can,” She breathes, “I mean, I won’t run a marathon tomorrow but I’m getting there.”

Dean has to chuckle, “You’re doing much better, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Y/N answers, “I can’t believe how patient you were.”

“It was worth it,” Dean whispers, kissing her again, “Come on, let’s get you back into the chair before you collapse.” She lets him scoop her up and place her back into the chair. Dean takes his time to place her legs right, he massages the muscle a little, too. “You feel that again?”

“I do, it’s strange.” 

Dean smirks, “Can’t believe you were hiding that from me.”

“Wanted to surprise you.” She smiles and it’s truly the most beautiful thing he’s seen in a long time. “Thanks for waiting for me to come around.”

“I would have waited a lifetime if that’s what you would have needed,” He whispers and gets up, places a last lingering kiss on her forehead before he gets behind the chair and wheels her to the campfire.

And yes, Dean’s happy. 

Happy that after all, they can start to be a family again. Because this is it for him. This is what he always fucking wanted. This and nothing else. 

..The End

[space-helen]

Where Have You Been? - Chapter 7

Words: 1472

Pairing: Jack Thompson x Reader

A/N: Not sure how I feel about this chapter but oh well.

PART 1 - CH1   CH2   CH3   CH4   CH5 PART 2 - CH6   CH7   CH8   CH9   CH10 PART 3 - CH11  CH12   CH13 _______________________________

You placed your bag next to your desk before quickly making up two hot drinks and taking them into Jack's office. Swinging the door open you placed the drink on his desk before taking a seat.

“Sleep well?” he asked, picking up the drink and taking a sip.

“Extremely, you?”

“Slept like a baby for the first time in forever.” 

Agent Miller walked into the office and placed some files down on Jack’s desk ignoring you as he did so. “We had a call last night about some suspicious activity in one of the banks. They said some guy came in and demanded the safety deposit boxes of a Mr Cook and Mr Martin. Y’know Martin, the one that was making that weapon. The place was ransacked last night and they want us to take a look. I pulled their files.”

“Thank you Miller.” the man nodded before exiting the office and closing the door behind him.

Jack brought his coffee to his lips and took a sip, you placed your mug on the table and observed the file with a keen eye as he flipped it open. Your interest instantly peaked as soon as you laid eyes on the photo paperclipped to the inside of the file.

You took the picture between your fingers “This is the first man I interrogated with the SSR, involved with Mr Martin.” you said in disbelief.

“Yeah I remember.” he leant in towards you “You were terrifying.”

“I thought he was nothing more than disposable at the time, but he’s clearly something more.”

“As much as I hate to leave a coffee I think we should probably get to the bank as soon as possible.” The man was closing the file and standing before he could even finish his sentence. 

A short bald man was soon escorting the two of you through the bank to the vault “Just give me a shout if you need anything.” his tone was unimpressed and he grumbled under his breath as he walked away.

You walked into the vault and assessed the situation. Most of the room seemed to be untouched except a select few items. Mr Cook and Mr Martin’s boxes had almost been completely cleaned out, it looked as if some money had been stolen from the vault too.

“Jack look.” the man stepped inside the vault to join you and looked over your shoulder as you pulled out a notebook from Mr Martin’s box. You flipped it open to find all of the page blank with a letter addressed to the SSR slid between the centre pages.

You looked at Jack for permission to open the letter and he nodded. You tore open the envelope and Jack leant in to read the letter with you.

SSR,

We know Mr Martin wasn’t arrested by the police or the FBI at first. After a little digging and help from friends we came across your agency. Our work is not over. You may have taken the blueprints but you didn’t catch us all.

We have a gift for you at the address listed below. Come alone or there’ll be hell to pay. But first you’ll need to get over the first hurdle we throw your way. We hope to see you soon.

You placed the letter back in the envelope and turned to Jack just in time to see the vault door inching closed. Rushing past the man you went to catch the door from closing but it was too late. Jack came to your side and tried to force the door open but there was no luck, the two of you had been sealed inside.

You and Jack banged on the door with your fists hoping to get someone’s attention. Shouting at the top of your lungs but it was pointless.

Jack took some steps back from the door. “Y/N stand back.” you looked puzzled but obliged.

You watched as Jack reached for his gun and freaked out as he went to point it at the door. “Jack Stop!” you took some steps towards him and quickly pushed his gun down to aim at the floor “Do you really want to risk that bullet bouncing back on you?”

He nodded and re-holstered the weapon. “You have a point. How do you plan on getting out of here then?”

“We should just wait. Someone will realise we’re gone.”

“I like your optimism.” he moved to sit on the table in the centre of the room. “Do you think this is the first hurdle?”

You approached the table and sat next to the man “Possibly. It is inconvenient afterall.”

“Tell me about it.”

The two of you discussed possibilities about the letter and ‘surprise’ they had waiting. Jack took off his jacket, folded it and placed it on the table before rolling his shirt’s sleeves up. The temperature in the vault seemed to be rising. 

You stood up and began to pace, some sweat collecting on your own brow. You unbuttoned the collar on your outfit a little to help cool down slightly. “I really hope someone turns up soon I don’t think I can stand this heat much longer.” you commented.

“I think LA was even better than this.”

“Well it’s been over an hour maybe even two so I’m convinced that the banker is involved otherwise we’d be out by now.” You slumped down next to a meal cabinet and relished at the cool material on your back.

“Agreed.” Jack looked up from his sleeves at you. “Care to share?”

You smiled and patted the floor next to you “It’s honestly heaven.”

He stood with ease and came to the ground next to you with a small thump. He let out a long breath as he felt the coolness on his own back, he leant his head backwards and brought one of his hands to your thigh comfortingly and traced patterns with his thumb.

The two of you stayed in silence and waited trying to cool down and hoping someone would turn up soon. The silence soon had you falling asleep.

You peeled your eyes open to be greeted by the return of the stifling heat. You sat up straight and realised you’d been resting against Jack. “Morning.”

“Morning.” you said groggily “I’m guessing no one’s come to rescue us yet?”

“No. I have no idea how long it’s been either, you fell asleep and so did I. I’ve only been awake for a couple of minutes.”

“Sorry for sleeping on you.” 

“Don’t worry about it.” he stood up and held out a hand to help you up, you happily accepted it and got to your own feet.

Jack pushed the hair out of his face as you stretched your legs by walking around the room. “We’re going to go to the address as soon as we get out of here right?”

“I will be yeah. The letter did say to go alone.”

“As if I’m letting you go alone.” you scoffed.

“Think I can’t handle myself?” he teased.

You smirked at the man “You have to admit we work a lot better as a team.”

He considered it for a second. “I disagree. Your abilities are exceptional no matter who you work with Y/N.”

“But working with you makes it so much better.” the two of you were either side of the table when you heard a commotion outside of the vault.

Jack turned on his heels swiftly as the door began to swing open. Agent Sanchez stood alert with his gun slightly raised on the outside of the door along with some other Agents.

“Chief. Sorry we didn’t get to you sooner.” Sanchez announced as Jack picked up his jacket from the table. You picked up the notebook from the table with the letter inside and stood in the cooler air of the corridor. “Agent Miller has the bank owner cuffed in the car.”

“Nice work Sanchez, you could have been quicker though, Y/L/N and I have been boiling alive in there. How long did it take you to even start looking for us?”

The man looked at the floor in embarrassment “three hours sir. We should have been quicker.”

“Well let this be a lesson to everyone.” Jack announced “Never go anywhere without a colleague or someone to back you up and let another member in the office know where you are and a time frame.” Everyone was silent. “Let’s get back to the office. C’mon.” Jack ushered.

You leant in close to the man “As if you’re going to listen to your own rules.” 

It didn’t take long for you and Jack to drive to the address. It had taken a lot of persuasion to let Jack take you but after guilt-tripping him into following his own rules he obliged.

Next Chapter

Tag List: (open)

Jack Thompson: @fandomsandxfiles @itsmissdahliahayward​ @vintagelavenderskies @britishcorporal @ravennaofasgard @spunky-89​ @darkusangelus​ @marinettepotterandplagg @fandomsandxfiles-writes​ @okkulta​ @gavemesomuchtoremember​ @herstory-study​

Marvel: @marvelsangels

[oumiyuki]

Teachers don’t date teachers (but You-sensei and Riko-sensei definitely are) Ch11

Summary: The whole student body and teachers teases the gym teacher, Watanabe You, with the new art teacher, Sakurauchi Riko, that they make a cute couple. How long can You deny this when Riko isn’t helping to reduce the rumours?

Pairing: YouRiko

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Slice of Teacher Life ;D

Words: 1236

Read me at fanfiction.net or AO3 too~

Author Notes

I. AM. BACK!! *w* With more lovely You-sensei and Riko-sensei chappie~ hehe~

May you enjoy~! XD

———

Tease 11 – Riko-sensei is blushing?? (You-sensei can’t help but stare)

———

You hums on her way to school. Jolly spirits as lately she haven’t been subjected to many teases about dating the new art teacher.

Peaceful days are peaceful~

The ash-brunette closed her eyes for a second as she thought about how she could have lunch in the school cafeteria with Riko and not hear giggles and sometimes feel a flash on them. The gym teacher grins and nods to herself.

Good days~

The moment she steps into school, however, her smile fell as she heard loud chatter. Excited squeals. And a crowd gathered…everywhere!?

Wait, wait, wait. What’s going on?? It feels like déjà vu and entirely new at the same time…

You approaches the scene cautiously but before she could take a peek at what’s causing the commotion, a student notices her and calls out loudly, “You-sensei!!”

Ah-

“Y-Yes? Wah-!” The gym teacher is swamped by students with starry eyes in no time.

“Tell us which art piece do you like most!”

Oh, it’s about art… Thank goodness it’s not about me and Riko-chaaaaan-?!!

You’s eyes bulged as the first portrait put up on an easel upon entering the school for all eyes to see was a scene of You and Riko in the same bed. You in the portrait had her back to the viewers but her speech bubble caused many who read it to blush just like You is right now – “I’m right by your side, Riko.”

In that portrait, Riko’s face was really flushed.

The gym teacher stared at Riko in the artwork for a rather long time, thinking about how it was different from the feverish flush but is not quite able to pinpoint what the difference is.

Riko-chan is so beautiful… If I turned around in bed that night would I be seeing this..?

“You-sensei?”

Ah!! Why am I staring so much? I mean- aahhh!

You clears her throat. “Why is this placed here..?”

The student beamed. “All classes have art classes, right? And we all finished our assignments around the same time! So, so! We decided to put them all about the school for everyone to get to view it too! Riko-sensei agreed!”

“R-Riko-sensei…” You’s lips pressed into a line.

If it’s for art class…it can’t all be paintings of me and Riko-chan, right?

Again, You was proven wrong.

The gym teacher walked further into the school to see art after art after art of her and Riko in various scenes. The common theme seemed to circle about them being at home and…them.

There were some simpler ones that just had You and Riko on it, not exactly a scene as there weren’t any backgrounds but it still made You embarrassed to see herself in casual wear standing right beside Riko.

I mean it’s not like we don’t hang out outside of school…but seeing it like that…

You rubbed at her nose, embarrassed.

Then she sees a sweet at-home, breakfast scene – Riko feeding her pancakes. You clenches her fists, holding back from covering her mouth or face and running into the teacher’s office to hide. Or maybe make a mad dash back out of the school and call in sick.

What is this overly cute homey scene?? We didn’t even have pancakes. We ate rice and saba fish for more nutrients!

“Riko-senseiiiii~~”

You blinks and turns to where the voices of energetic and youthful kids are, plus that gentle and lyrical voice of the art teacher, Riko-sensei.

“No…I…I can’t choose by that reasoning.” The art teacher seemed to be explaining.

You approaches, heart racing and she believes it’s just from all the pictures she’s seen so far and not because she was about to see Riko in school.

“Riko-sensei, good morning.” You greets with a lopsided smile, knowing the art teacher must have gone through a series of hyped students and blush-inducing gallery walk (or is the latter only something she felt?).

Riko turned around at the voice of You greeting her, head slightly lowered, an apologetic expression and cheeks dusted pink.

Riko-chan blushing..? That’s rare…

You’s lips parted subconsciously to breathe in the breath-taking sight of the usually composed and mischievous art teacher blushing.

“G-Good morning, You-sensei. I’m sorry you had to be…surrounded…so early in the morning.” Riko seemed to edge to her right to block the painting behind her.

You chuckles awkwardly. “Y-Yeah…You’ve, um, trained up some really great artists.”

“They are still learning.” Riko smiles small; You’s desire to know what’s going through the artist’s mind just keeps growing.

“W-Was the topic of teachers? Because I see us drawn in pretty much…all the paintings.” You made a thoughtful, perplexed yet casual look which made Riko’s shoulders relax from the endearing sight.

“No…I told them to use certain techniques I taught them in previous lessons… And they said you told them they could draw anything they wanted. Before you had to care for me at home.”

“Wha- Wait! This is my doing?!” You took a step back in shock, trying to recall her words. And sure enough, she did, kind of told the students they could draw anything they want before she left to bring Riko home.

Riko laughed at You holding her head in both hands and looking distraught. The laughter making You pout.

What have I done..?

The student who has been staring at their favourite teacher interact grins huge and sing-songs. “You-sensei~ You-sensei~ Look here!! What do you think of my art?”

You turns to look. Riko gasps. And although she wanted to turn back and see why the art teacher made that sound, her eyes were glued to the canvas the student moved away from Riko’s attempt in blocking the view of.

The big canvas depicted a scene of You halfway through putting on her shirt, so her smooth and toned stomach was visible, and she wore a relaxed, cool smile while greeting, “Good morning, sleepyhead.”

To Riko, eyes wide awake as she looked astounded and infatuated though she returns a “Good morning, You.” Both of them illuminated by a soft morning glow.

Wow…

The art teacher was worrying at the side while You analyses the art.

That is one amazing art piece.

Funnily enough, this work of art that got the quiet art teacher flustered did not have the same effect on the blush-easy gym teacher.

“Wow. Just- Your painting is amazing, Coco!” You praises the student.

Coco gives a victory sign with a proud smile. “See, Riko-sensei~ You-sensei agrees! I should get an astounding A Star for this!”

You laughs. “Is she going to get an A..? Riko…sensei..?” You trails off as she stares at Riko tuck her long auburn locks behind her ear, those cheeks still a beautiful shade of shy pink and looking the painting.

Gosh…Riko-chan is so pretty…

You only breaks out of her dreamy stare when she realizes she’s looking right into patiently waiting yellow eyes. “Ah. D-Did you say anything?”

I got distracted by those thoughts again!!

Riko smiles. “I just might give Miyashita-san an A grade.”

“That’s awesome!” You cheers.

Now, if only I could ask for the reason Riko-chan was blushing so much…

The gym teacher looks back to the artwork, tries to find a reason and failing.

Perhaps she was just shy about how beautifully drawn she was. Which she shouldn’t have to be!

Coco grins at her teachers then back at her work of art, 100% proud to have drawn what she did.

  ———

Author Notes

Yep, I decided to use N girls for at least some of the lovely students. I was starting to feel bad for calling them students as a whole when they LOVE and support YouRiko-sensei so much. XD

And wow…I can’t believe how much time has passed since the last update..!! –sweat drops-

I hope y’all enjoyed the chapter!! *O*

More is to come and this time I shall diligently do so~ Especially since…September is a YouRiko-ish month? :3 I guess. –chuckles-

Leave me a comment and let me know your favourite scenes!! (I feed on your comments for more YouRiko-energy! ;D)

Catch you next tease~ :”D

[schtroumpf-a-lunettes]

Smurf Village Upturned, Chapter 17

Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 | Ch10 | Ch11 | Ch12 | Ch13 | Ch14 | Ch15 | Ch16

Read on: AO3 | FF.net | This post

It was the day of the funeral, and the atmosphere in the air was suitably sombre to match. “Sombre” – Clumsy had needed to have that word explained to him by Brainy.

Many smurfs had remained scattered throughout the village these days, many rarely emerging from their homes. It was possible that some of them weren’t even fully aware that funeral preparations had been underway. Full attendance was only to be expected, Brainy had explained to him, which is why he’d been sent to go check on smurfs and remind them that today was the funeral and they were expected to be there. Not that anysmurf would be planning on not attending, but you could never be too sure, had been Brainy’s way of looking at it - that’s why Clumsy was currently wandering about from home to home.

“Sloppy, is that you? Just droppin’ by to let ya know that-”

“Sloppy? Sloppy Smurf?! You think I-?!” the other smurf seethed, absolutely incensed.

“Oh gosh, sorry Vanity, I didn’t mean – my mistake, I shoulda known better, just kinda assumed because well-” Well. He found himself looking about. It was Sloppy’s house that was usually such a mess, after all. Then again, although this place didn’t currently smell the best, Sloppy usually smelled far worse. He shouldn’t have assumed, and should have probably paid more attention to whose house he was entering, but it was also completely unlike Vanity to not keep himself and his dwelling tidy.

Clumsy could see the embarrassed flush that lit up Vanity’s face. He was just making things worse. “…Sorry. Just remindin’ you about the funeral today, is all.”

“R-right. Thank you, Clumsy. Now please, just leave me.” He began searching about the floor, muttering to himself. “My mirror, where’s my mirror… a mirror… Surely – I’ve got to see…”

“I’m real sorry again, I can leave if ya really want, or-or- would ya like some help?” Clumsy ventured.

Vanity continued looking about moodily, still no mirror in sight. “Of all the unsmurfy things- ooh, I’ve never been so humiliated in all my life…”

“Vanity, d’ya need – would ya like some help there?” Clumsy asked again.

Vanity stopped, sighed. “Why don’t you draw me up a bath?” he suggested.

***

Vanity was all washed and ready with time to spare before the funeral, and even sprayed on some perfume when he found a bottle so he could go back to being his usual nice-smelling self. Clumsy offered to help him clean up his house a little bit, but Vanity cautioned him against it.

“Ah… I guess, yeah, I might just make more of a mess, huh?” Clumsy guessed. He really was keen to help, but he wasn’t called “Clumsy” for no reason.

“Oh, it’s not really that- it’s just that, er… I don’t want you to get hurt, or accidentally get any cuts from uh… broken glass. I may have broken some of my mirrors.”

“Wh- Vanity, how’d ya manage an unsmurfy thing like that? You’re sayin’ there could be glass shards lyin’ among this mess?” Clumsy cast his gaze about once more, seeing if he could spot any. “That’s uh – dangerous!”

“I know, I know. I think I got around to cleaning most of the glass up…” he sighed. “I just, hated seeing those mirrors. I think I’ve seen enough of myself for a lifetime! If only I hadn’t been so attached to that stupid – me and that enchanted mirror basically caused…!”

“H-Huh?! No, Vanity, that’s not true!” Clumsy protested.

After a moment, Vanity pulled himself together once more, speaking dismissively. It was obvious that he didn’t believe Clumsy’s words of reassurance. “Well, whatever. I didn’t like seeing my mirrors, so I broke them. It was stupid of me, but it’s done now.”

Clumsy did his best not to let his shock at the fact that the act had been intentional show through. Clumsy had caused glass to break an unfortunate number of times, but he couldn’t quite grasp the notion of doing it on purpose. He opted to pull Vanity into a hug. “Hey. It’s gonna be okay. We jus’ gotta support each other.”

“Thanks, Clumsy, I mean it. I’m glad you – I mean, if any other smurf had seen – I think I simply would have smurfed right then and there.”

“An’ even if I might not be the best smurf to help ya out if there might be hidden glass around, I’m sure anysmurf’d be happy to help clean up an’ get this place back t’ normal. Looks a bit much t’ handle on your own-”

Vanity pulled back from the hug sharply. “Oh, no, you can’t tell anysmurf about-” he gestured about at the mess, “this. Heavens, no! It has to stay between you and me, Clumsy. I’m sure I can… get this mess under control. I’ll be fine.”

“Er, are ya sure?” it was a tall order, but he supposed if Vanity set his mind to it, his house could be returned to its normal meticulous state.

“It’s just a little-” Vanity gave a brief, humourless laugh, “-hard to care these days, but I’m sure I’ll manage!”

“Uh-”

“But say, don’t you still have smurfs you need to check on before you get ready for the funeral?”

“Right, yeah. You wanna come with me?” Clumsy offered. He figured Vanity could certainly use the fresh air and some more time in other company.

“Oh. Yeah, I suppose I will. I’m already ready to leave, after all…”

They left the house behind, stepping outside. It was a little strange, not seeing Vanity accompanied by his standard handheld mirror, both of his hands currently empty. Even if he’d managed to find one to take with him – one that wasn’t broken – based on the smurf’s earlier words, Clumsy wouldn’t be surprised if he’d still choose to leave it behind. He vaguely wondered whether any of the other smurfs would notice the absence, and whether Vanity felt strange at all leaving the house without it.

They visited the remaining houses without incident, then happened to cross paths with Brainy on their way to the designated location for the funeral.

“Oh, hi there Clumsy. Vanity, haven’t seen you in a while… I suppose you’re looking at arriving early? A good idea. As Pa-… That is, as the saying goes… “Better three smurfs too soon than a smurf too late”.” A brief, awkward silence settled in.

“Hey Brainy, actually, good thing we came across ya. Vanity’s gotten it into his head that he’s responsible for what happened, he’s gotten it all wrong an’ I was hopin’ you could help correct him, since you like correctin’ other smurfs an’ all. You could probably explain it better than I could,” Clumsy said.

“Clumsy,” Vanity hissed, but the words were already out in the open. Vanity might have asked the accident-prone smurf to keep quiet about the current state of his house and belongings, but he hadn’t said anything about not bringing up Vanity’s current self-condemning outlook. And just as well, as Clumsy couldn’t allow him to go on thinking like that.

“Oh,” Brainy looked a little surprised, “I can tell you right now that it’s really not your fault at all. It’s not the fault of either of us.”

Vanity huffed. “That’s a bit typical, isn’t it? Refusing to shoulder the blame for something?”

There was a frustrated grimace on Brainy’s face now. “I’m telling you-”

“What would you know?”

“More than you. You think I haven’t smurfed about it? So I’m going to put this unsmurfy thought of yours to rest. Roesia’s plans would have been carried out exactly the same regardless of whether we played into her hands or not. And I know this because I saw into her mind, which you did not. She didn’t need to give us the Insight. She did so out of sheer curiosity, and because it simply helped her confirm for certain which smurfs glowed and which didn’t, so that she knew who to target. She liked being precise about these things. But even if it weren’t for that, she’d met most of us anyway to be able to tell for herself. And she could have simply used her magic to summon which smurfs were needed either way. So, you can spare yourself the needless sense of guilt, Vanity Smurf. It wouldn’t change anything anyway.”

“Well. That all sounds rather convenient.”

“It’s also true. Smurf what you wish about me, but if it were any other way, I’d be smurfing the same guilt. But that’s not the case here. You need to accept that. If you’d seen into her mind, you would see it the same way I do.”

Clumsy stepped in. “Y’know, I think he’s right. Maybe just think about it, maybe just a little? An’ there’s no need to argue. ‘Specially today of all days.”

Vanity looked away, opting not to say any more, and Brainy nodded at Clumsy’s words. “Well, if you two really do want to arrive early, maybe you’d best be going now. I’ll see you there.”

***

Brainy and Vanity next spoke soon after the funeral concluded and smurfs were dispersing.

It was Vanity who approached. “I’ll… think about what you said.”

“Hm,” was all that Brainy had to offer up in response.

“Though… don’t you think about what could’ve been different? What might’ve been different, if we hadn’t accepted the Insight?” Vanity found himself asking. Brainy’s version claimed that they really wouldn’t have ultimately made a difference either way, regardless of what they’d chosen to do. But what kind of flow-on effect might a different decision have had? There was still that slight chance that it might have nudged things in a different direction, and that bothered him.

“…Yes. And you know what? It also could’ve been worse. If Roesia’d simply come up with a different plan to get her way, succeeded, then we’d all have died. It’s pointless thinking it over. I don’t know about you, but I’ve got far more pressing things to think about. And I’ve got reason enough to be miserable at this situation already without trying to add to it by illogically heaping blame on myself, so you shouldn’t do that to yourself either.”

“I… well. I suppose.”

Brainy’s words seemed to hold some truth to them; there was no real point trying to figure out who was more at fault. It was already finished. No point holding onto it… No point dwelling on hypothetical possibilities.

“No one hates you, no one’s blaming you. The other smurfs understand. I mean, it’s not like either of us could have foreseen Roesia’s intent or have had any influence over her actions,” Brainy said simply, his voice weary.

“Yeah. Guess so.” Speaking of weary… Vanity felt it was high time he returned to his home. He just wanted to go there and – he should clean up first, he should get started cleaning up the place – but he just wanted to go straight to sleep. Sleep first. The mess could wait. He could get started on fixing that up later.

[fromathelastoveritaserum]

WIP Monday!

Thank you for the tag @chyrstis ! ٩(⁎❛ᴗ❛⁎)۶ Now that I have time, I’m working on catching up with my three (maybe four) fanfictions! ...wait wha?! Why do I do this to myself?? (ಠ_ಠ)

Below are some sneak peeks at my work in progress:

“My Beloved Professor” - Ch20 - Fire Emblem Three Houses

“In Sickness & In Health” - Ch12 - Mass Effect Andromeda

“When Joy Returned” - Ch11 - Far Cry 5 

“My Beloved Professor” - Fire Emblem Three Houses

“Have you been living under a rock?” Catherine asked with a frown, before she added, “You probably have been huh. Well, there won’t be a trial. Lady Rhea's word is law. And as a Knight of Seiros, I’m going to make sure the deed is done.”

“Sounds more like a task for an executioner, rather than a knight,” Byleth remarked without emotion.

Catherine’s brow arched in response. “I’m loyal to Lady Rhea through and through,” she stated  gruffly as her posture straighten proudly upon the saddle.

Ashe shifted uncomfortably in his saddle as he remained quiet. His lime green eyes snuck a glance towards Dimitri, who seemed to be sharing his thoughts; an odd power shift was at play here. 

“A blind man who questions the use of his sword is less dangerous than a man who uses his sword blindly,” Byleth quipped as she kept her gaze straight ahead.

Catherine huffed in response. “And which high and mighty person uttered that?” 

“My father,” Byleth simply remarked.

“Well, we have our mission...be sure to stick to it Professor. I don’t want any insubordination. Got it,” Catherine stated, her bright sapphire eyes now narrowed upon the young woman riding next to her.

Finally, Byleth tore her gaze away from the road to looked directly at Catherine. Face as still as a mask, she merely gave the swordswoman a solemn nod.

‘Damn, I can’t get a read on her,’ Catherine thought with gritted teeth. “Good,” she remarked out loud. Though knight had an inkling she would have to keep a wary eye on the professor.

“In Sickness & In Health” - Mass Effect Andromeda 

“And this is the Medbay,” Sara proudly announced as she lead Evfra into the clean and polished clinical area. “Though, you’ve already been here huh,” the young woman realized as she pursed her lips into a soured expression.

“Yes, he has,” Stated Lexi, in a tone that was a more cooler than what Sara would have expected from the gentle doctor. There was also a foreboding gleam in the Asari’s eyes. The Pathfinder knew that look all to well when she ended up in the Medbay after doing something Lexi had explicitly forbade the Pathfinder from doing.

“I remember General de Tershaav very well, especially on the day he brought you in when you were suffering from hypoglycemia,” Lexi recounted with a pencil thin smile.

“Wait Evfra, you brought me to the Tempest?” Last thing Sara could recall from that mission, was Akksul helping her walk!

Meanwhile Evfra just gave a noncommittal cough for he did not like where this was heading…

“In fact, I remember the General asking me, quite bluntly, whether I was qualified to take care of humans,” Lexi smiled. But, it was the razor thin smile she wore upon choosing the largest sized needle to inject you with. “I must say he made taking care of you quite the challenge. Constantly hovering over you to the point that I had to kindly request the General to step out,” the Asari added, her grey eyes gleaming with the joy of payback.

“You had to kick Evfra out of the medbay while I was being treated?” Sara gawked. She glanced from the Asari towards the Angara who refuse to make eye contact. Ryder’s mouth then snapped shut as she hissed, “I see.” And without another word, the young woman dragged Evfra by the hand out of the Medbay.

She was silent the entire way to her cabin, and Evfra became worried that the Pathfinder was upset with him. Not only had he not disclosed that event to her, but the leader had clearly obstructed the physician from properly taking care of Sara.

“SAM open this door right now” Sara commanded in a forceful voice. As the doors whoosed open, the young woman tugged Evfra in before barking, “No one is allowed to enter! And go on privacy mode!”

Finally the Pathfinder relinquished the angara’s hand. “Sara are you upse…” Evfra began, but he didn’t get to finish his sentence as the young woman raised her toes, pulling Evfra down to her by the scruff of his tactical suit.

“Shut up and kiss me!” She growled throatily before pressing her warm lips upon his gawking mouth...

“When Joy Returned” - Far Cry 5

The heavily wooded forest allowed some sunlight to peek in through its lush canopy. Down below, the smell of damp earth now mixed with the invigorating crispness of spring.

“Joy! Please slow down!” Joseph pleaded breathlessly as he carefully made his way around the large jutting stone maze of the underbrush. The teenager was clearly not used to such activities. Meanwhile, Joy skimmed along the mountainous trail like a jubilant billy goat.

The pair were taking a trip through the Whitetail Mountains as a part of filling out their high school biology field notebooks. The requirement was to sketch various springtime fauna and flora spotted along the trails.

“Come on Joe, come on! It’s just a bit further!” Joy cheered in her seemingly unending energy reserve. She climbed up the stones with ease before turning around and reaching back down to aid Joseph

“Here give me your hand,” Joy offered. But when Joseph lifted his hand up to her, Joy accidently grabbed his mid-forearm, eliciting a cry of pain from the teenager.

Quickly Joy released his arm, worried she had hurt her friend. And as she did so, Joseph’s sleeve slipped down, revealing large purple to yellow blotches of discolored skin.

“Joe...” she gasped. “What are those on your arms?” Joy whispered as she stared, wide eyed down at him.

Joseph quickly pushed his sleeve back down his arm as he looked silently away.

“Are those bruises?” Joy asked softly. “Joe...who is hurting you?”

She remembered that Jacob was Joseph’s older brother and the new worker at the Owens Ranch. But, while she was still just getting to know Jacob, he seemed to love his brothers dearly and wouldn’t lay a finger upon them. Then there was John, the youngest Seed. Gods, Johnny was a little angel who wouldn’t even hurt a fly. Actually he began to tear up after nearly killing one!

“It’s...it’s okay Joy, don’t worry about it,” Joseph gently remarked as he heard Joy shift about overhead on the boulder.

“But...” Joy paused. “Alright, I won’t ask...but Joe,” she stretched down her hand to help Joseph properly up the boulder this time. However, she didn’t let go of his hand even once Joseph was standing up on the boulder in front of her.

How do you convey feelings of utmost trust? Within the few short months Joy felt she already knew Joseph for a lifetime, as if they were just old souls reuniting once again in this time period...

Silently Joy reached out to him with other hand and pressed her warm forehead against his as she closed her eyes. ‘You are precious to me,’ she tried to convey with her gesture. 

“Joe, if you ever need help or anything, please let me know,” Joy whispered.

“I will Joy, I promise,” Joseph whispered back as he returned the pressure upon her forehead, as if to say, you are precious to me too...

Tagging: @strafethesesinners @rpgwarrior4824 @angaranprincess @anavakarian (apologies for any double-tags and no pressure!)

And if you would like to be tagged in the future please let me know! :3

[keeroo92]

Be My Nightmare Ch11

On Endings and Origins

Trigger warning - School shooting (adult students)

Word count - 3,117

~~~~Previous Chapter~~~~

_______

Michael smirked, putting extra emphasis into his stride as he walked past a particularly attractive woman in a stylish pencil skirt. The business district was so much fun to wander in, so many professional looking ladies dying to play secretary. They’d do anything not to get fired; he loved that line.

Was she looking? If she wasn’t, she was missing out. He made it a point not to make eye contact; that was a novice mistake. Never let them know you’re interested, that was rule numero uno.

She had to be looking. He was a catch; the hours he spent every day in the gym made sure of that. The carefully styled hair and overly tight shirt dialed it up to eleven, and his perfectly straight teeth to a twelve. No woman alive wouldn’t see him.

That’s right, baby. You wish you were hot enough to catch my eye…

Even from just a glance, he knew she was a seven, max. Nothing special, maybe a solid Tuesday lay if he felt like it. Too bad for her it was Saturday.

He kept going, strutting across gradually less crowded intersections like he owned the entire city. This was his palace; he was king, and the world was his for the taking. He’d earned it. The world owed him his due.

Michael was so caught up in his thoughts he didn’t notice the slim shadow that followed in his wake.

Almost there, what’s her name again? Jenna? Jane? Something with a J…

He almost pulled out his phone to check, but nothing undermined a woman’s confidence quite like being called by the wrong name. Even if he got it wrong, it’d only help him get laid. Chicks were so predictable. All you had to do was make them feel the need to prove themselves, then they were putty.

A sudden cold pressure on the back of his neck stopped him in his tracks. The click that followed froze the blood in his veins. It was a sound he’d only heard in movies and TV, but unmistakable. Who the fuck would pull a gun in broad daylight? On him, no less?

“Move and you die,” a silky voice said. “Muscles aren’t bulletproof.”

The pressure moved, sliding down his spine to settle at his waist. He tried to look back, but a disapproving tut warned him before he spotted anything useful. What the hell did this asshat want, anyway? Phone? Wallet? Dating advice?

“Turn left here,” the voice commanded. He didn’t recognize it. 

Maybe he could disarm the guy? It sounded like a guy. Probably a loser, some shrimp that needed a weapon to make a move. All he had to do was remind him of the natural order, then he could get to his date, with a thrilling new story to impress whats-her-name with.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Michael asked.

A searing heat flashed between his ribs. Pain reminiscent of tearing a muscle erupted in his core and his bravado hiccupped. Something wet made his shirt stick to his skin, and as he looked down to see a growing red stain, the young man gagged. He hated blood. 

“I used to be like you, you know. Foolish and naive, never imagining myself in peril,” the sinister voice commented. “Turn right.”

Michael obeyed, his hands busy staunching the fresh wound. The area wasn’t one he knew, full of derelict apartment buildings and shady-looking shops with newspaper covered windows. Chain-link fence lined the sidewalk, occasionally broken by a gap of unknown origin. Half the streetlights were burned out and a smell of cigarettes and sweat spoiled the air. Nothing good happened in a place like this. 

“W- what do you want from me?”

The figure behind him replied by increasing the pressure of the barrel against his spine. Michael quickened his steps and tried to ignore the trail of crimson dripping from his side. If he didn’t see it, it couldn’t hurt him. No pain no gain. Ignore the pain, focus on the gain.

“That all changed in a single afternoon.”

What the hell is he talking about?!

Without knowing who his tormenter was, Michael couldn’t even begin to guess. All he had to go on was the haunting regret dripping from the man’s words. 

“I don’t understand,” he replied quietly. A soft hum met his ears, another prod of the barrel guiding him toward a gravel path.

“You needn’t worry. You won’t live long enough for it to matter.”

The anxiety of moments ago seemed like a passing shadow compared to the pitch black, mind-numbing terror that filled him now. He was going to die. The guy basically just said it. 

This can’t be happening! Not to me! 

There had to be something he could do, some way he could get out of this. He’d talked his way out of trouble before. Talking was his specialty, second only to fucking. He just needed to find the right words and everything would be fine. Maybe he’d even get a sexy scar on his back from the…

Don’t think about it! 

“That day opened my eyes to the truth, just as I shall open hers. Through there.”

At the end of the gravel walkway stood a small house, as poorly maintained as the other structures nearby. Metal bars covered the only visible window and the door featured three locks, yet all of them were open. Michael hated how his hand trembled when he pulled the door open. He was supposed to be stronger than this.

Get it together! C’mon!

Inside, a gloomy living room awaited the two men. A faded grey couch sat opposite a small television, empty beer cans and paper plates covering the rickety coffee table. A movie poster from a decade past was the only decoration. Any other time, Michael would have sneered at the slovenly abode, but not today.

“Welcome, my canvas,” the voice said.

A heartbeat later, agony flared across his consciousness. The same blade that stabbed him before now sawed through his flesh and ripped through his spinal cord, the angle perfect to slide the slim metal between his vertebrae. Fluid gushed onto the floor as his legs crumpled, numbness more intense and horrifying than any he’d experienced taking over the nerves below the madman’s wound. 

I can’t feel my legs!

Michael screamed as his face struck the hard floor. More pain, in his cheekbone and eye socket this time. Worse than when he fractured his collarbone trying to deadlift his cousin, but that was the least of his worries now.

He tried to shift his legs, but nothing happened. Icy dread coiled in his stomach, growing with every second he failed to move. How was he supposed to get away now? Crawl?

“P- please!”

His arms still obeyed his commands and he managed to roll over, getting his first look at the monster that planned to take his life. Michael focused on him instead of the pool of viscous red under his body. A small figure, dressed like an idiot teenager at a skate park. Black hair peeked from the hem of a beanie, shadowed green eyes and a smirk that would shake even the bravest of souls beneath. 

Michael’s eyes traced the figure’s arms down to the weapon that forced him to cooperate and he cursed. What he had assumed was a lethal firearm was, in fact, a harmless felt-tipped pen. 

What the fuck?!

“Not my usual tool, but acceptable,” the man said, clicking the cap on and off a few times just to show off how stupid he’d been. 

Why hadn’t he attacked when he had the chance? What was wrong with him, to meekly surrender and let this… this… devil lead him wherever he pleased? He should’ve at least tried!

“Ah, yes! Thank you, Vergil. I’d almost forgotten,” the man said. Who the fuck was Vergil? Was this guy bonkers?

The man turned away to flick on the television, straight into a film full of blood and screaming victims. He turned up the volume, then returned to his victim’s side with a sly grin.

“Each night this week, I increased the volume a little more. The neighbors are used to the screaming now. Make all the noise you wish.”

He tried to scramble away, but without the use of his legs he didn’t get far before the madman caught up. The first tears he’d shed in years leaked from his eyes as the blade struck once more, sinking deep into his shoulder and twisting. When the tip scraped against his shoulder blade, Michael’s last shred of stubborn resistance abandoned him and he released a jagged wail of agony.

“Yes, I suppose I ought to…” the man murmured once his cries faded. 

He howled again as a boot-clad foot stomped on his forearm. The bone snapped and hot blood gushed from the hole it punched through his carefully sculpted musculature. All that work, and for what?

I’m gonna be sick!

The film’s screaming and his own retching mixed together as the first wave of agony lost its bite. Adrenaline was a beautiful thing, to dull away the worst of it, but enough remained to draw forth increasingly emasculating sounds. Pathetic. 

Something pulled at his waist and before he had the chance to talk himself out of it, Michael looked down to find the cause. 

The man was slicing off his calves. He didn’t feel any pain from it, only the pressure when the last few strands of sinew snapped away. A small blessing, wrapped in the horror or his own paralysis. Sour bile flooded his mouth at the sight of his body being pulled apart and the coppery smell of blood, another helping of vomit spilling out to mix with the precious fluid. 

“Hmm, yes. That one next, I think,” the man said. Michael barely noticed; his mind was elsewhere.

Silver flashed. Volcanic agony erupted in its wake as the madman hacked off his bicep. Michael screamed again, louder than before as he felt every shredded cell split, but the film drowned him out. None would hear his cries. 

The void where his flesh once rested wept crimson. His arm felt limp, as if he’d just finished a long work out. Pain choked him, the severed nerves wailing their protest as if it might somehow save him. Michael closed his eyes, mentally begging for unconsciousness to claim him. Anything to escape this hell.

“This moment is all we have together, don’t spoil it by closing your eyes…”

The blade whistled through the air, lithe fingers grasping each eyelid in turn as metal split the thin tissue apart. His eyes burned, red soaking his vision yet not enough to make him blind to the grin on his tormenter’s face. Never had he seen such a cruel image.

Tears and blood alike dribbled down his cheeks. He thought he knew pain, thought he understood the way the human body was put together. How much strain the muscles could handle before they broke down, only to grow back stronger than before.

But there was no “growing back” from this. 

The madman hummed a cheerful tune as he pulled apart Michael’s meticulously toned body. Chunks of meat and sinew slapped wetly in a pile, for what purpose he didn’t have the focus to imagine. How much longer before it was too much? How many more times would his heart beat?

Not enough, yet also too many.

Please, please, please make it stop! Just kill me!

The next time the blade struck bone, Michael lost control of his bladder. As it dug against his collarbone and scraped away all he was, his mind snapped. White-hot terror and pain overwhelmed him, he had nowhere to hide from it and there was no end in sight. He drowned in agony so powerful each second felt like an eternity.

Somewhere far away, voices screamed a poor imitation of his torture as his own voice gave out. All Michael could manage now were dull whimpers.

And then, even that freedom was stolen from him as the ghoul carved his jaw open to remove his tongue. Another wet slap as he tossed it into the pile with the rest. How the fuck was he still conscious? 

“I must say, you have impressive endurance.”

Michael gurgled, mangled jowls flapping. His vision blurred, darkness leaking in around the edges. Was it time? Was it finally over? 

Please, god, just let me die…

“It seems our time together is at an end. How unfortunate, I was having such fun.”

Michael’s vision narrowed, the final curtain call of his life passing by. He didn’t resist it, instead mentally racing toward oblivion with all he had left. Whatever awaited him on the other side had to be better than this. Death was the only way out.

Twisted laughter heralded his release, a final flash of metal as the artist sliced open his neck. At last, blessed peace…

---V---

The artist cackled and leaned closer, staring deep into the boy’s mutilated eyes as the last glimmers of life left them. He’d never understand why others killed from a distance; there was no greater power on earth than watching another being die and knowing he made it happen. That moment, that last soft sigh as their spirit broke free…

He found it beautiful.

People revealed their true selves as they died. Their fear, their hopes and dreams, everything they valued was on full display for him. In a way, he knew his victims better than anyone else ever could. In some cases, they also knew him. 

But this one…

He hadn’t lied. The boy reminded him of his younger self, before Nero’s death and all that came with it. Back when he saw the world with wonder and hope, when he’d never seen the color of blood when it gushes from an open chest cavity.

The pen he’d used to trick his target sounded nothing like a gun; the boy simply didn’t know what one sounded like. It was a lucky guess that such a fool didn’t have prior exposure to such things, but it paid off. 

Still.

“Why cannot the ear be closed to its own destruction?”

The words of William Blake and the true sound of gunfire echoed in his mind as he carved the corpse like a Thanksgiving turkey. The panic, the confusion and shock when it first broke out, the look of resolve on his best friend’s face. Like a film he’d seen too many times, his mind held each frame in his memory forevermore. 

“Get down!”

Nero…

He forced himself to relive it all. Those three minutes of anguish taught him more about the nature of life than his prior two decades of comfort. It seemed longer at the time; only later did he learn the true duration of his trauma. 

No. Not his trauma. 

His failure.

“V, what the hell?! Get down!”

He remembered the thud of the lecturer's heavy tome slamming onto the floor, Blake’s words soon to be soaked in the blood of the innocent. Dozens of voices screaming. Gunfire. Doors slamming open. Bodies hitting the floor. 

He remembered smelling the coppery tang of blood in the air for the first time, tinged with piss and panic. Vomit and someone’s leftover French fries. Gunpowder, too; the same smell as New Year’s Eve. 

He remembered feeling the pressure to move and how his legs refused to obey. The way his hands trembled as he stared at what would surely end his life. A warm, heavy weight crashing into his chest and knocking him to the ground.

Nero.

Whispered words and the splash of scarlet across his face when Nero coughed. 

“Play dead and… take care of her…”

The light fading from his crystal blue eyes.

Tears spilling from his own.

The artist cleared his throat and wiped his eyes. Yes, it was good to remember. It reminded him of why he needed to keep going, why the blood must continue to flow. The reason for his existence. Never could he allow himself to forget – to do so would dishonor his friend. After everything Nero did for him, V owed him this much.

He remembered the empty words of others afterward, the crushing vice that held his heart captive. The weight that bent his shoulders in grief. His family, hesitant and unsure how to restore his previously carefree spirit. His teachers, the pity and discomfort in their eyes whenever they spotted him in class.

He remembered the announcement of the memorial and Professor Marx, asking him to participate. The now-familiar voice of Vergil in his mind urging him to do it, if only to maintain appearances. The gentle scrape of his brush against canvas and the tightness of his throat with each added stroke. The duality of being both numb and feeling far too much all at once.

He remembered her face, swollen and red as she declared him the reason for her fiance’s death. His shame as he accepted her words. How could he argue? She was right, after all. Going to the Blake recitation was his idea. A second, more gravelly voice in his mind, calling her obscene names and giving shape to his urge to deny responsibility. Griffon.

He remembered the unveiling, all the families gathered together to see his and his classmates’ work. Nero’s family, shell-shocked and angry but without a target. The hush that fell over the crowd as each name was read, far too many. Rustling cloth as the covering fell, and the gasps as grieving families found their murdered loved one’s faces.

He remembered his rage boiling inside him as nothing changed in the months to come. An inferno he couldn’t contain, not with the addition of Shadow’s voice; a wordless roar of crashing fury. The cacophony of all their bickering in his mind, indecision and desperation only making them harder to ignore.

He remembered breaking. The gradual creation of his plan and the sense of purpose that grew from it. The urgency of his new goal and the thrill of being reborn. Leaving home to escape the relentless pity, finding his path and walking it without fear. His fear did nothing to help him. His fear was what got his friend killed.

His fear would never control him again.

He released a shaky breath and closed his eyes. There was still so much to do. Eventually, someone would track the boy’s blood here and discover his latest work; it needed to be ready before then. Perhaps once he finished it, he could honor his friend somehow. Carefully, of course. The locals were still hunting him.

And his work was not yet done.

~~~~Next Chapter~~~~

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Severed Bonds (Chapter 14)

Summary: Edge, Jedi Knight, is lost in a Galaxy without the Jedi Order and the only one left to him is one who already betrayed them all.

Tags/Warnings: Spicyhoney, Star Wars AU, Darkfic, Angst, Minor Character Deaths, Friends to Enemies to ?, Hatesex…?, Trauma, Implied Possible Insanity, Rough Sex, Lemons, Mentions of Prostitution,  Violence, Possessiveness

Notes: Just a quick reminder about the warnings on this story! There’s violence and angst, dark themes, and as a Sith, it’s safe to say Rus is mentally unwell.This is the first chapter I’ve done from his POV, so brace yourself.

Severed Bonds: a Spicyhoney SW AU

CH1 | CH2 | CH3 | CH4: Interlude | CH5 | CH6: Interlude 2 | CH7 | CH8 | CH9 | CH10 | CH11 | CH12 | CH13 |

Read Chapter 14 on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

From belowdecks, deep within the bowels of the ship that held the humming engines and machinery, Rus sat working, his focus entirely on the equipment beneath his hands.

He ignored the exhausted tremor in his fingers as a mere annoyance. It was hardly the first time he’d gone without sleep; the nightmares he kept locked up tight during the day slipping their chains whenever they had a chance. He was the closest thing to an engineer around—Stars knew Edge was shit at it— and the ship didn’t care how tired he was; maintenance needed to be done regularly if they were going to get off this shitheap of a planet.

If, yeah, there was the rub. Wherever they ended up going. had to be somewhere they could go, someplace to hide, but the Force was everywhere, in everything—the panic starting to jibber in one of Rus’s mental corridors was forcibly shoved away, banked for now.

It would break free eventually, probably the next time he forced himself to look at a star map, but he’d humiliated himself enough for one night. His mind was a labyrinth filled with dead ends and false doors, defenses built from desperation against himself as much as other minds trying to invade.

Ones still trying to invade. The memory of his Master breaking through his shields all those years ago, the oily-sweet pleasure of the Dark side that promised an end to the ongoing pain, ah, that memory was close off in a special mental room, bolted shut. But that was a lock often broken.

Broken like he was, Rus thought with savage amusement. Because he was, oh, yes. Edge might like to pretend there was something to piece back together, that there was a puzzle to solve within Rus. He could tell himself as many lies as he liked, Rus was broken, knew it, and he didn’t give a shit.

All he wanted was to stay alive with Edge. And to get off of this soul-sucking piece of shit planet, but he supposed that fell under staying alive, didn’t it.

For now, he hummed to himself, stripping out old wiring to replace with new that he’d bartered for in the mining town. He tipped his light source downward, the better to see what he was doing, and kept working.

He knew when Edge left the ship, felt his Force signature fade into distance. Most of him didn’t care. Some of him didn’t care.

The part that did spoke up then to gripe about it and the voice was one of his old crèche attendants; a yammering, bitter old Gorith, her skin faded to pale green and who might’ve retired some years ago, only clinging to her spoiled dreams of Jedi greatness as she scolded the children over their bedtimes and cleaned teeth.

She scolded him now, though her words weren’t ones ever said to any child, He wouldn’t have left if you’d let him fuck you. But you had to be terrible, had to be Sith, you—

Her diatribe was interrupted by a harsh laugh, a voice that once belonged to Rus, torn from days of screaming and healed except for in his mind, He’s Fucked Him Plenty. Pretty Little Jedi Can’t Take A Joke. It turned into an argument in the back of his head, those splintered voices squabbling. It made him want to clutch the sides of his head, scream at them to shut up for fucking once, but he couldn’t stop it, could he. They were all him, in the end. Another voice piped up, was that the Jedi Padawan? Rus, Papyrus, they didn’t claim a name, and their voice was a mere whisper as they meekly put forth, edge cares about us. Only for a rebuttal to come, raw and gleefully, He Cares About Fucking You. About Fucking Us, Rather, Not Very Picky, Is He. Were You Really Such A Bad Lay As A Jedi That You Couldn’t Even Seduce Him? Needed Me, Didn’t You, Someone For Him To Save, To Hurt— “I’m not listening,” Rus said aloud. They ignored him, like always. He didn’t want to listen, but his focus was caught between the machinery beneath his hands and the cold delight of Sith that told him Edge’s concern for him lay only between his legs. He was nothing but a cunt or a dick, whatever Edge needed, a receptacle for his pain, and he stayed only because there was nowhere else for a Jedi to go. True, it was the truth, he knew it was the truth. None of the other voices could offer any other. The Sith was strongest within him, often swarming in to take over and that was when Rus was cruelest, he knew, even while the Jedi in his mind wept, trapped back behind scars and webbed over pain. Lashing out at Edge made him feel better…for a time. Then he was left with his own bitter emptiness, and the shocked look on Edge's face no longer soothed, but ached. Edge would come back, he told himself, if only because he had to. He’d work to exhaustion in the mines, come back with a pathetic pile of credits and whatever rations he could, when he did, Rus would take his turn to go out and earn them some real funds. The amount that he already had secreted away would likely make Edge concerned to see, his face falling into that lost expression that said he was trying not to think of how Rus earned them. Probably for the best he didn’t know. Didn’t mean that Rus wouldn’t take glee in telling him someday.

Rus sighed, suddenly weary. He was trapped on this shithole planet, on this ship, with his fractured, bitter thoughts and there was nothing he could do about it until Edge came back.

When he did, maybe Rus wouldn’t leave the ship after all. Maybe he’d stay and remind Edge who he belonged to, that he might play-offer to act as Edge’s slave but They both Knew better, Didn’t They, Make Him—

No. Rus shook away the Sith’s greedy voice. He’d stay or he’d go, and whatever he did with Edge would be his choice and no one else’s.

He gathered up his kit, tucking little tools into his belt pouches and decided to go back up to the galley to get one of the dry ration bars Edge brought back.

He didn’t get two steps out of the Engine room when a sound in the main corridor made him stiffen. Edge wouldn’t have left the mines so quickly unless something was very wrong. But no one else should have been able to get past the ship’s shields without setting off an alarm.

Careful, Be So Careful, The Master Will Find Us Eventually, Careful—

Subtle nuances eluded him these days, but when he reached out with the Force, Rus could feel a dulled presence, overshadowed with something resembling pain. He stepped into the corridor, lightsaber in hand, ready, eager, for an opponent.

Only for his sockets to widen as he caught sight of BD-7. Or what remained of it. Torn wires sparked, small limbs clattered as it struggled to make its way along the corridor wall.

Rus went to it hastily, clipping his lightsaber to his belt as he crouched to eye the damage. The little droid had take a hell of a beating; one of its optics hung from the socket, dim and unlit, and it dragged one limp, useless leg behind it. The metal of its body was scorched with the telltale marks of blaster fire.

It caught sight of Rus with its working optic and let out a warbling cry, a wordless moan of mechanical agony.

“easy,” Rus murmured, already working to pry up a tiny maintenance panel with his fingers. It was the work of moments to reroute the constantly pinging error messages so they would stop assaulting BD-7’s processors. The little droid hardly needed them to let it know the extent of its damage and the lack of ‘pain’ would allow its processors to clear enough to answer questions, and of those Rus had plenty.

He barely waited for the droid to go limp with relief before demanding, ”where is edge?" Its sound module crackled, but Rus could understand BD-7 well enough. “Captured. Hunters. He fought hard but he was overwhelmed.” It lifted its head, glaring at Rus with its one lit optic. “Because of you! You distracted him!” "you’re probably right,” Rus agreed, readily accepting blame. Certainly Edge’s Jedi calm had been in shreds when he fled from Rus earlier. His own satisfaction at the sight had soured almost immediately and now they were all going to suffer from his giving in to petulance.

BD-7 wouldn’t be able to feel it, but it was surely aware that Rus was doing a few hasty field repairs. The leg was past an easy fix, but Rus could at least splint it to allow the droid to walk awkwardly. The optic he sealed over with insulating tape, stuffing the burnt out wires into the damaged socket to deal with later. Before he could tape off the other sparking cables, the little droid tried to jerk away, its working leg scraping the decking. “You need to help him!” “we will,” Rus told him calmly. He yanked BD-7 closer again and began sealing off the rest of the wires despite its squawking.

The furious inner workings of his mind creating plans weren't visible to the little droid, who only glared at him with its remaining optic and demanded, “Now!” “we will!” Rus said, sharply. “they can't take off for at least eighteen standard hours, not until we clear the gas giant's gravity well. we have a little time. now let me finish this or you’re going to be useless to me.” BD-7 went grudgingly lax, allowing him to finish taping. Which should’ve been enough, but Rus couldn’t help the words that tumbled out, urged on by the memory of the little droid’s past attacks on his boots.

“you’re very loyal for only having known him for a few weeks, aren’t you, pet.” The droid made a rude sound and tried to release its welding tool, but Rus pressed down on the little hatch until it gave up, sullenly sinking back to the deck. It was enough, a sip of hatred even from a droid satisfying the Sith.

When he finished, Rus scooped BD-7 up and settled it on his shoulder, holding on until he was sure it had a grip.

Its dislike didn’t keep it from leaning against Rus’s skull, warbling out mournfully, ”Help him?”

Rus gave it an absent pat. “we will. first we need to find him.” “Use the Force,” BD-7 said urgently. Rus snorted in disgust. Of course. Non-Force sensitives always went that route. To them, the Force was either a hoax or an all-encompassing magical miracle. “that's a precious thought, but i'd rather use the tracker i hid on him.” The droid let out a sputtering noise of outrage as Rus pulled the monitor control from his belt. “oh, stop complaining,” Rus chided. “it's coming in handy, isn't it?”

The map showed a grotto of some sort, not too far away, but enough for one that was on foot. They’d need to hurry because if they got Edge off-planet, he’d be looking for a single star in a galaxy.

My star. Mine. For once, all the voices in his head were in agreement. Find Edge and get him back, no matter the cost.

Rus strode off in the direction of the hatch, and the Sith said, cheerily, “Now, Why Don’t We Go Make Someone Pay For Taking What’s Ours, Shall We?”

The droid’s beeps of bloodthirsty agreement only made him laugh in delight.

~~*~~

TBC

Next

[artificialqueens]

Twist Of Fate - Ch11 - (Trixya) - katyahzamo

A/N: Here we are folks, the penultimate chapter of this fic! Things are slowly falling into place with these two and I can’t believe it’s been three months since I started writing it. Thank you everyone, for your continuous support and lovely feedback!

A reminder: Trixie is a hairdresser and Katya is a struggling photographer slash yoga instructor. Lesbian AU. Read the chapters on AO3 and/or come hang out on my tumblr katyahzamo. Comments are welcome and encouraged!

Katya wakes up sometime around eight in the morning the next day, with sweat on her upper lip and on the back of her neck. The air is stuffy in her bedroom, and only when her eyes open does she remember that she’s forgotten to leave the window open before falling asleep.

Additional source of heat is the pile of blonde curls spread across her bare chest, with an arm and a leg hugging her close as Trixie Mattel sleeps peacefully snuggled up to her. Katya can barely feel her arm that got trapped under Trixie sometime through the night, and there is a certain soreness in her thighs that reminds her it’s been a while since she’s had sex… or done strenuous yoga for that matter. Still, she has a large smile on her face as her fingers trail through blonde hair splayed across her collarbone, feeling her heart speed up at the mere thought of the last night’s events.

Seeing Trixie naked, getting to kiss every single inch of her soft skin… it was better than any fantasy Katya’s imagination could have conjured up in many lonely nights when she thought about it. Trixie was both gentle and teasing, and heat pools in the bottom of Katya’s stomach as she remembers Trixie between her legs, eating her out like it’s the last thing she’s going to do. Her thighs squeeze when she recalls the sounds that Trixie made as they fucked, as she made Katya come, over and over again, until they fell asleep snuggled together, too tired to move a muscle or put any clothes on.

Katya is pulled back to the present when Trixie snorts in her sleep and it almost makes her laugh out loud, but she remains silent when she slowly untangles their limbs and slips off the bed, in desperate need of a shower, a cigarette and some food.

Trixie doesn’t wake up until two hours later, to Katya’s great delight, since she has plenty of time to run to a convenience store right across the street, buying some toast, eggs, maple syrup and a pancake mix which she prepares quietly in her narrow kitchen that she barely ever uses for herself in the morning.

It seems that it’s the smell of French toast, eggs and bacon that rouse Trixie from her slumber, and she’s standing in the doorway, in one of Katya’s shirts no less, hair pulled back in a messy ponytail and a bright smile on her face. It makes Katya’s heart jump violently and then drops to her ass. The shirt strains a little over her chest, but reaches her thighs nevertheless. She looks sexy as all hell.

“Morning.”

“Good morning, birthday girl. How did you sleep?”

“Mmm really good, but I think I fully didn’t move all night. Everything hurts.”

There is a little pout on Trixie’s lips, that playful one that Katya has seen so many times in the last twenty-four hours, and it is hard to breathe for a moment before she flips the pancake.

“Maybe you can do some yoga with me later?”

“Hard pass. I’d rather do something else.”

Katya turns her head, and Trixie is there, leaning her hip against the counter, her eyes big, and brown, and staring at Katya’s mouth.

“Yeah?”

“Mmm.”

A second later she hops on the counter to sit there and gets a toast and nibbles on it, watching Katya who puts the last pancake on the plate, turns off the stove and comes in front of her. Trixie’s knees part instinctively and Katya settles between her thighs.

“This is really good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. I usually don’t eat white bread that much but I was starving.”

“I also made you pancakes and bought a little candle so you can blow on it. Even though you don’t celebrate your birthday-”

“Oh I celebrate it.”

Katya, who had her hands resting on Trixie’s bare thighs and was brushing her fingers up and down lazily looked at her with her eyebrows raised.

“But you told me last night you-“

“I did that only so you would finish what you started.”

“Oh my god.”

“Hey, it worked, didn’t it?”

Trixie’s wide grin makes Katya cackle, all with head thrown back in delight.

“You’re such a fucking brat.”

“It’s what you signed up for, mama.”

They laugh and Trixie drops the toast back on the plate when Katya leans in to leave kisses under her jaw and down her neck, her eyes closing instinctively and arms wrapping around Katya’s shoulders. She leans up seconds later to capture Trixie’s lips with her own, and before long Trixie has her nails dragging down Katya’s back and Katya desperately digs her fingers into the soft flesh of Trixie’s thighs.

“God you’re so sexy.” Katya’s words are barely a breath she speaks into Trixie’s open mouth, and are greeted with a soft moan before the kiss becomes needier, causing both of them to grind their hips towards the other.

“Trix-“ Katya starts again, but Trixie’s fingers are already trailing down Katya’s abdomen and past the hem of her boxers, finding her wet already. Feeling Trixie’s cold fingers pressing against her clit makes Katya gasp into the kiss, and she adjusts her hips so Trixie can have more access.

It doesn’t take her long before she drops from the counter and on her knees, to Katya’s surprise, in the middle of the tiny kitchen. With Katya’s boxers discarded on a nearby chair and Trixie’s mouth between Katya’s legs, Katya is reduced to a shaky, moaning mess minutes later, barely holding herself upright by leaning back and gripping the countertop with one hand and Trixie’s hair with the other. She comes without much effort and Trixie’s fingers knuckles deep in her pussy, and Trixie playfully kisses her before going for a shower; leaving the Russian disheveled and barely able to put her underwear on and set up the table for breakfast.

“So you know Mrs. Davis, right? Kasha Davis?”

They are sitting on the couch, Trixie’s feet in Katya’s lap and a plate of pancakes in her own. Katya made her blow a single candle she found in one of the drawers and make a wish she then refused to share with Katya. It won’t come true if I do! She said and interrupted Katya’s laugh with a lingering kiss and a hug in a silent thank you. They moved to the couch immediately after and put a movie they weren’t paying attention to, too distracted by kissing and Trixie force-feeding pancakes to Katya, who refused to eat pieces that had maple syrup on it.

“The older, rich lady that comes to Honey? Yeah I know her.”

“Her daughter Jean is having a Sweet Sixteen party in two weeks.”

“Oh god don’t tell me she’s gonna be on MTV or something.”

“How old are you?” Trixie laughs loudly and Katya swats at her ankle playfully. “No, grandma, she won’t be on a show that ended ten years ago, but-“

“It didn’t end! It’s still going!”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah! I’m pretty sure I watched it last week.”

They bicker for a little while longer, until Trixie pulls out her phone from underneath her and stares at the Wikipedia article with her mouth open, and Katya laughing loudly at her.

“I’m right, huh? It’s still airing.”

“Who the hell funds this still?”

“Mrs. Kasha Davis?”

“Right!” Trixie tosses her phone Katya’s way, who catches it and laughs again, doubling down on intensity when Trixie glares at her and then Katya raises her arms up in surrender.

“I’m sorry! Go ahead, what about her daughter?”

Trixie blinks at her pointedly a several times more but then her expression softens when she speaks again.

“Latrice called me while I was still in Wisconsin. Apparently, Mrs. Kasha Davis wants me to do her daughter’s hair. And her daughter’s best friends’ hair. And probably makeup too. There will be like… seven or eight girls there.”

“Trix, that’s great! They’re loaded, they will probably pay well.”

“Right? There’s a problem, though. Maybe one you can help me with?”

Katya tilts her head and can’t help but grin back when Trixie bats her eyelashes again, feeling her heart thump at the sight.

“What do you need?”

“They need a photographer. Apparently there’s a company who organizes these things and they usually send a photographer and a makeup artist in a bundle. And it’s hard for them to find a photographer on their own on such a short notice. So…”

“So if you don’t find a photographer, they will go with the company.”

“Right. I know you’re busy and you’re getting like a thousand jobs offer an hour but…”

“Trix, being booked one week in advance is barely a thousand offers.”

“I know! But you’re so good and all these modeling agencies are fighting for you, and I know teens are not your thing but…”

“I’ll do it.”

Trixie’s eyes widen, and her smile too. Money aside, this sight alone makes Katya think that hanging around teenagers the entire day makes it totally worth it.

“Really?”

“Yeah! I mean, they are loaded and I can probably get a rate as high as I get for weddings so…”

She doesn’t finish the sentence since Trixie has put the pancakes away and is pulling her down towards herself, her soft pink lips covering every inch of Katya’s face, causing her to burst into laughter, over and over again. Doing what she loves to do and with the girl that she’s pretty sure she’s in love with? Who would say no?

The two of them stay on Katya’s couch for the remainder of the morning and early afternoon, cuddling and watching Casablanca that comes on, parting reluctantly only when Trixie says she needs to go into Honey even though it’s her last day of paid leave and it’s her birthday. Since Katya needs to work on engagement photos she’s taken the day before, she lets her go, but not before spending fifteen minutes kissing at the front door and agreeing to see each other that evening for birthday celebration, and the next day, when Katya would pick Trixie up from work and go with her to test out a new lens in the park nearby. As she watches Trixie get into her Uber while she smokes on the window, Katya wonders what she did in her largely miserable life to finally get so lucky.

.

.

.

“No, go back. Details bitch.  Is she a top or a bottom? What does she like? Did you talk kinks yet?”

The connection on Violet’s side is not really the best, and Katya has to squint at her own phone to recognize that the pixelated blur is in fact her best friend, calling her from the other side of the continent, after having blown up her phone when Katya told her Trixie began spending almost every night for the past week.

“Vi, I can barely hear you, what?”

Maybe she is trying to avoid the subject altogether now, at least until Violet is in the same room as her, since sleeping with Trixie is… different. She is not just a tinder hookup or a casual dating thing that Katya had no issues talking about with her best friend in the past, all details included. Now, she is afraid of sharing too much with the universe, fearing that the universe might yet again be a bitch and take it away from her.

Just that morning Trixie left her apartment to go to work, and she woke Katya up by dragging her to the shower and kissing the sleep away from her puffy eyelids, then proceeded to make them both coffee after which they sat by the window as Katya smoked. Trixie’s thumb rubbed her knee as they talked about their plans for the weekend. It has been surreal, more surreal than any other thing that had happened to Katya in the past year. Considering all the changes that she went through, this being the biggest one, it was a lot, and now difficult to put into words.

How can she even begin to describe the happiness she feels to get to spend every single free moment with Trixie when it seemed just like a distant fantasy only a month ago? No words could even begin to come close to describe how beautiful Trixie is, or how funny. How her nose scrunches lightly when she yawns over her cup of coffee in the morning or how she chews thoughtfully and looks into the distance when she thinks Katya isn’t looking. Anything she could say to Violet pales in comparison to the warmth in her chest when Trixie kisses her collarbone and talks sleepily before drifting off and the way her small apartment rings with the sound of Trixie’s absurdly loud laughter. Katya is happy, and it’s a scary thing to even fathom talking about.

“Fine, you don’t have to tell me now. Is it good at least? Is she good?”

The connection clears enough for Violet to see the wide grin on Katya’s face, the crinkles around her eyes visible even through the blurry video.

“She’s the best, Vi. I’ll tell you everything when you get back.”

.

.

.

“So, I want my hair to be wavy, but not too curly. I don’t wanna look basic, you know?”

Katya is barely holding in her laughter as Jean continues chattering on, giving precise instructions on how her hair needs to look like, the funny part being the way Trixie’s eyes are bugging out a little. Katya can see that Trixie is holding in an exasperated huff too, but nods along and keeps saying okay as the girl continues talking.

“And please don’t give Amanda the same hair as mine, she’s been trying to copy me for months.”

“Isn’t Amanda one of your best friends, dear?”

Mrs. Kasha Davis is sitting in the chair next to her daughter, flipping through the menu that the caterers have brought minutes after Katya and Trixie walked through the door of the gigantic mansion where the Davises lived. Her eyes lift up towards her daughter, a perfectly shaped eyebrow quirked.

“Mom, I told you fifteen times already, I have to keep Amanda close because she has the pull with the cheerleaders. But I can’t stand her, all she talks about is Justin Bieber and we all know he’s so 2013.”

Katya cackles at this when her eyes meet Trixie’s, and the girl looks at them in the mirror.

“What? You know I’m right.”

“You sure are.” Katya says amusingly, lifting the camera and adjusting the lens before she snaps a photo of the mother and the daughter, with Trixie fiddling with the scissors in the background.

Both Trixie and Katya woke up at seven in the morning to get everything ready for the Sweet Sixteen party, or at least the part they play in it, since Latrice instructed them both on what Mrs. Davis loves and doesn’t love, and when she saw Trixie getting nervous about her first big gig, encouraged them both that Kasha, despite being a rich white woman, has a kind heart and will tell them if anything is amiss.

They had no issues finding the house in the outskirts of Boston hours later and Katya expected to see swans in their larger-than-life front yard that had a fountain decorated with endless balloons and pink bows. Despite the kitschiness of it all, Katya appreciated how this girl’s parents went above and beyond to make their daughter’s birthday special. Jean, all teenager drama aside, is not as snobby as Katya expects most girls of her class to be, and she spent half an hour discussing photography with her before they sat down for hair and makeup.

Soon after they shit talk Amanda, the head cheerleader walks in with half a dozen of other girls and Trixie sits them all down and gives them catalogues to browse for hair styles they want, while Katya walks around, taking quick photos as girls get ready, of the tables and canopy set in the backyard, of the house and exterior decorations, and finally of Trixie.

The only dress code for the party is to incorporate something pink in their outfit, since that is the main color of the event. Trixie sure looks the part n her baby pink dress, slightly loose around her shoulders and flowy around her legs and reaching down below her knees. Her thick curls are pushed in a ponytail and makeup is as soft as one could imagine it being on a warm September day. She looks like she walked out of Katya’s wildest cotton candy dreams. Katya, in return, sports only a dark pink button up shirt that she matched with the black pantsuit, the jacket tossed aside as soon as they arrived to the house.

Katya feels smug whenever she notices Trixie swallowing every time she looks at her, and remembers how breathlessly she complimented her that morning when she saw Katya get out of the car to kiss her hello in front of Kim’s building when she picked her up.

She sees Trixie looking at her now, a curling iron in her hand and a little smile on her face that Katya snapped a photo of seconds before, and now has the wild urge to go over and kiss her senseless. Instead, Katya walks past her and squeezes Trixie’s hip lightly before she walks out of the spacious, bright-lit room and into the back porch of the house. Some of the guests have begun arriving already, mostly family members including older aunts and uncles. Mrs. Davis has told them that the main event would be after seven, when half of Jean’s school would be coming over for the party, but the afternoon was reserved for the older family members and friends of Mr. and Mrs. Davis.

Katya spends an hour or two walking between the tables, introducing herself to people who want to know her name, and taking photos much to the guests’ delight. Despite having initial reservations for an event like this, Katya realized that older rich white people are a goldmine for photography opportunities, and she has already given out a dozen of her business cards before she sees Trixie on the porch too, drinking something that looks like pink lemonade.

“Almost done?” Katya comes to stand next to her but only after she’s quickly snapped a photo of her, feeling her heart grow ten sizes when she sees Trixie pose playfully.

“Yep. Jean was right, Amanda talks about Bieber more than you talk about your Russian weirdo bands.”

“Hey!” Katya cackles and nudges her with her hip, sending Trixie into giggles too.

“They’re a cool bunch, though. They keep asking me if I can redo their makeup too.”

“How could they not? You’re the incarnation of their favorite Barbie they played with up until two years ago.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”

“What? I think you look beautiful.”

Trixie’s blush is visible even in the slight shade of the porch and Katya is grinning proudly.

“God, if we made out right here, right now, do you think we’d look unprofessional?”

“Only one way to find out.”

“Katya!”

“What? You think dykes would be too much for the poor old aunt Shirley over there?”

“She’d fully be clutching her pearls.”

“Oh there you two are!”

The voice of Mrs. Davis makes them both jump a little and they turn around, their expressions slightly flushed and guilty. Katya prays she didn’t hear any part of the conversation they just had. But, even if she did, Kasha shows no signs of it.

“Trixie, dear, Jean is absolutely glowing because of your handiwork. You did a marvelous job!”

Trixie grins and Katya’s heart skips several beats. She’s so proud of her.

“I’m glad she’s happy with it. I only have two more girls left and I’ll be done.”

“Beautiful! Katya, we’ve agreed you’ll be staying here until nine, isn’t that right?”

“Yes, Mrs. Davis.”

“Please, darlings, call me Kasha. You’re making me feel old.”

All three of them laugh and Katya nods.

“Anyway, I’m here to offer you to stay for the party too, Trixie.”

“Oh you really don’t have to, I-“

“No, nonsense! You can keep Katya company and David ordered too much food for this amount of people. I insist.”

Katya and Trixie look at each other and Katya gives her a non-committal shrug, even though all she wants is to have Trixie around for the entirety of the day. It would definitely make the remainder of the party more bearable.

“Okay, I’ll stay then. Thank you. If you need me to help with anything-“

“No, absolutely not. You can finish up the hair and makeup, and I might ask you to touch up mine later in the afternoon, but the moment you are done you’re a guest like everything else here.”

“Thank you M- Kasha.”

“Oh you’re both welcome. Now if you’ll excuse me, I see my mother-in-law calling.”

Both Trixie and Katya laugh at the eyeroll and the wink Kasha gives them, and watch her trod across the lawn.

“Better go get Amanda ready before she cuts my head off.”

Katya laughs and takes her hand briefly, kissing it.

“Go. I’ll be out here. And bring me one of those lemonades when you’re done.”

The remainder of the afternoon goes by fast, and Katya barely has time to shove some of the food in her mouth while people call her from one side of the lawn or another, wishing her to take photos of them in different poses and with different family members and friends. It’s well past six in the evening and the majority of the adults are already tipsy and ready to dance, so the DJ is already in his spot too, forced to take requests of songs that range from Frank Sinatra to Spice Girls. When five minutes pass without anyone calling out her name, Katya decides to take a bathroom break while she still can, since the only people who like having their photos taken more than middle-aged people are teenagers, and almost a hundred of them are soon to start arriving through the door.

The bathroom offers a welcome silence and Katya feels her head pulsating a little bit, but she has to admit to herself that she is having fun, more so because she knows Trixie is going to join her soon. What makes her the happiest, though, is the fact that Trixie will be coming home with her later and they will get to snuggle on her worn out couch and talk to each other about the day they had.

Just as Katya flushes and goes to wash her hands, there is a brief knock on the bathroom door and Katya calls out that she’ll be out in a second. When she does open the door, she sees Trixie standing on the other side, the look on her face making butterflies in Katya’s stomach dance for the millionth time that day.

“Oh hi.”

“Hello.”

Trixie’s hand pushes her lightly from the door and back into the bathroom again, and follows her in an instant before she closes the door and locks it.

“I’ve missed you the whole damn day.”

“Me too.”

Katya wraps her arms around Trixie’s  waist and Trixie cups both sides of Katya’s face and leans in to kiss her – her soft lingering kisses that Katya returns eagerly, humming contentedly.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you all day.” Trixie mutters into the kiss and Katya kisses her again, and again, and again, until she’s backed into the wall and raking her fingers through Katya’s waves, the feeling of blunt nails against her scalp causing goosebumps on the back of Katya’s neck.

“Did I tell you how hot you are in that fucking suit? Holy shit.”

Katya squeezes Trixie’s waist in response, digging fingers there and grinding against Trixie’s thigh just a little, their mouths inches apart, both of them breathing heavily.

“Do you think it would be unprofessional if I bent you over in our client’s bathroom and fucked you senseless?”

That makes Trixie’s mouth fall open and she kisses Katya softly again, and Katya knows that she’s considering it. They both know it’s a probable thing that would happen if their kisses lasted for more than five seconds.

“Probably. Maybe we shouldn’t.”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe you can do that later tonight when we’re back at your place?”

“Sounds like a solid plan.”

Katya is the first one to rejoin the party, her neck still flushed from how easily worked up Trixie has gotten her, but her dark red lipstick is in place once again and her hair brushed out. There is an ache between her thighs for a while after, especially when Trixie comes to join her soon after with a hand on Katya’s lower back, but knows that they still have a few hours to go.

Taking photos of teenagers is definitely more work, since they ask to see how they look in photos every time they are taken, but they are also ready to go with Katya’s ideas of crazy poses, so Katya finds herself having a lot of fun. Both her and Trixie, who watches the entire thing unfold, are invited into several selfies too an hour into what turned into a photoshoot with the cheerleaders.

It’s well past nine when Katya packs up her camera, and when she comes out to the lawn that is now lit up with hundreds of small lights and with a crowd consisting now mostly of people under twenty, save some of the adults here and there, she finds Trixie surrounded by several girls who keep asking her about the hair products she uses to make her curls be the way that they are. Once Katya reaches them, Jean begs them both to stay a little bit longer to join the dancing since the band has taken over, and Trixie is the first one to give in.

An hour later Trixie and Katya are still on the dance floor, and no one seems to care that they are dancing with each other and not talking with anyone else aside from several older cousins who are there more out of solidarity for their cousin’s birthday wishes more than anything else. When the fast-beat song changes to something slower, Katya pulls Trixie close and Trixie leans her head on Katya’s shoulder as they sway slowly.

“This is like a prom I never got to have.”

Katya pulls her head from where it rested, leaned on top of Trixie’s, in surprise.

“You never went to your prom?”

Trixie rolls her eyes but laughs.

“Of course I went to prom, but I never got to go to one with a girl that I liked.”

Even though Katya knows that Trixie likes her, she’ll never get tired of hearing it.

“Did you go with a guy, then?”

“Yep, Bob. We were the only two out gays in the entire school so no one really wanted to do anything with us.”

“I’m sorry, Trix.”

“It doesn’t matter, we had a lot of fun. And I get to redo it with you now.”

“Does this mean I forgot to buy you flowers and that I’m a horrible girlfriend?”

Trixie lifts her head up to meet Katya’s eyes and only by the expression on her face does she realize what she just said.

“So that’s what you are, huh? My girlfriend?”

Katya grins wider, and kisses the small crease that formed in the corner of Trixie’s eye as her smile grows too.

“Yep.”

“Cool. Then I’ll need those flowers.”

“I’ll get them for you as soon as we get out of here.”

They leave the party shortly after that, and Katya does stop in front of a little flower shop whose owner knows Katya from before, and who gives her a bouquet of lilies that she passes on to Trixie when she gets back in the car.

“Are we having a little Imagine Me and You moment now, Katya?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Imagine Me and You? The best lesbian movie ever made?”

“Never heard of it.”

“And yet you know that Sweet Sixteen is still airing? I’m breaking up with you immediately.”

The ride to Katya’s apartment is full of their bickering and Trixie’s loud laughter, and Katya can’t remember a better day at work in her entire life. A part of her wishes that she and Trixie can do things like this forever. She loves photography, and getting to finally do it for living is a dream come true, but now she wants to share that dream with Trixie. As she watches Trixie kick off her heels and stretch before she joins her on the couch, Katya thinks that it’s probably too early to even bring it up. She knows that Trixie has been planning to leave Honey for a while now, but Katya doesn’t want to put a strain in their very new relationship by proposing something like that. They have time.

An hour later they are still on the couch, their carefully applied lipsticks gone and their clothes discarded on the floor. They barely spoke anything in the hurry to get each other off, the tension between them building for the entire day and released only when Katya fucked Trixie until her thighs shook and then gladly returned the favor. Katya felt so exhausted afterward, especially with Trixie cuddling into her side, both lazy to get up, shower, and go to bed. The silence breaks shortly after, and Katya didn’t notice that Trixie has been chewing on her lip nervously for at least ten minutes before she speaks.

“Katya?”

“Yeah?”

“I have to talk to you about something.”

“Shoot.”

“Remember when I went back to Wisconsin to be with family couple of weeks ago?”

“Yes, of course I remember.”

“I went to see Pearl too.”

The name Pearl, spoken out of nowhere, and in that context, sucks all of the air from Katya’s lungs and suddenly she can’t breathe, so she sits up. Trixie, who was leaned on her, sits up too, bringing the blanket to her chest, suddenly feeling exposed. Katya opens her mouth once, both unsure of what to say and not understanding why this is being brought up now, then closes it. Then finally:

“Okay.”

“I didn’t know how to tell you back then. I wasn’t sure where you and I were going and there never seemed to be a right time. This is also not the right time, but I have to tell you anyway.”

This exact moment not being the right time is an understatement. Katya’s jaw is clamped shut, but all she can do is look at Trixie, and wait. After all, she has no idea what seeing Pearl means in this case, and wants to give Trixie the benefit of the doubt. Shiver passes down her spine, but it has nothing to do with being cold.

“And I know you and I didn’t talk about it at all, but our breakup went really badly, and I was afraid that I hurt her so I – I needed to fix it.”

Met with Katya’s silence, Trixie seems to falter a little bit, but she continues talking.

“So Bob and I went to Chicago and Pearl and I met over lunch and talked about… everything. Nothing happened obviously, I knew I didn’t love her that… way, and I knew I liked you, so I wanted to do the right thing and bring us both closure.”

A part of Katya, that has been under considerable strain and threatening to snap since Trixie started the conversation, loosened up and she let out a small breath. Nothing happened. Yet, there is an irrational part of her that’s still hurt about it. It’s not something she can help.

“Why are you telling me this now? That was almost a month ago.” Her voice too is slightly strained, but Katya tries not to project her insecurities on Trixie. Her insecurities are what ended every single relationship she’s had so far. There weren’t many.

When Katya didn’t snap, something that Trixie apparently expected, the corner of her mouth pulled into a small smile and she shrugged. Despite the rollercoaster of emotions that Katya went within two minutes time, she can’t help but want to hug Trixie when she sees her this way.

“You called me your girlfriend tonight. I was afraid that mentioning Pearl would fuck all of this up, and these past couple of weeks have been the best I’ve had in my life.”

“Mine too.”

Trixie’s face seems to light up at that.

“And tonight you called me your girlfriend and I became aware that I can’t hold this back from you because I don’t want to hide anything from you, Katya. I really, really like you and I want us to work. More than I want anything else.”

“Trixie…”

“So I had to say it. And I see that you’re upset and I’m sorry. I just wanted you to know and not find out from one of our friends or something.”

Katya reaches out and takes Trixie’s hand for the millionth time that day, and pulls her close, meeting in a kiss as she closes the distance between them, and Trixie readily responds.

“Thank you for telling me.” Katya speaks when they pull away, and Trixie leans into her side to snuggle her again.

“Thank god. If we had to fight it would have killed me.”

“How did Pearl take it?”

Trixie lifts her head to see that Katya’s looking at her, and they smile at each other.

“She was surprisingly okay and appreciated that I wanted to clear the air. She’s going on a big world tour and said it was for the best anyway.”

“And you’re okay? You guys were together for a long time.”

“Trust me, Katya, I’ve never been more okay with anything in my life. I have you.”

—–

[themostcleverandwittyname]

Curiosity Saved the Cat

CH1 CH2 CH3 CH4 CH5 CH6 CH7 CH8 CH9 CH10 CH11 CH12 CH13 CH14 CH15 CH16 CH17 CH18 CH19 CH20 CH21 CH22 CH23 CH24 CH25 CH26

(Jumin x MC)(Saeran x MC)

Summary:

MC is fairly happy after Jumin proposes to her, however, her curiosity leads her to contact the hacker that started it all.

Chapter 16:  So Edgy

Chapter 16 on AO3

For two days she sat in complete silence. The sound of pages flipping, rapid typing, and the tinking of ceramic mugs being placed on the desk were all that she had heard and it was driving her insane. Today varied from the past two days, however, because she was asked to go and make the coffee this time.

This was the first time that she was left unsupervised to wander freely through the building. She knew that she did have a time limit, cringing as she recalled how harshly Saeran told her to not to lollygag. Still, it felt nice to be able to just walk. As silly as it seemed, walking felt amazing after being cooped up and hunched over a book and small laptop. Her situation had changed somewhat for the better since being his assistant.

The very word left a bitter taste in her mouth but at least she was now treated with something equal to basic human decency. She got fed nicely and under Saeran's order, Believers would bring in beverages. They had not spoken much to each other and he was constantly ignoring her. Not that she cared, but the atmosphere was always dismal in that “office” of his. Myung couldn't lie to herself, she was learning something from the books. Her captor did pull himself away from his work sometimes to demonstrate a lesson that she had a hard time understanding. It took a lot of skill and focus and her thoughts turned to Seven. She had a newfound admiration for his talents.

She made her way into the kitchen area that buzzed with quiet conversation among other Believers. From being here, she had learned that there was a somewhat hierarchy among the Believers. Saeran was on the top on the hierarchical structure, under the Savior as her personal dog. He did everything she said and was highly regarded.

Being his assistant meant that she immediately was considered above the other Believers. That wasn't necessarily a good thing.

She kept her hood lowered over her face as she made her way to the coffee pot, praying that no one noticed her. She had been told that she should wear her robe when she went into the main halls to avoid aggression from the others.

“Hey!” some voice rang out behind her causing her to startle and spill a drop of coffee on the countertop. She decided that ignoring the person would be best. Another voice murmured to the aggressive one in questioning. To respond, the man stated loudly.

“Yeah, that's the one that hasn't been cleansed properly. She hasn't fully gone through the ceremony. She has no place here.” Myung didn't turn around and didn't visibly acknowledge the buzz of confused and angry whispers of the kitchen dweller. Instead she simply grabbed a handful of cream cups and sugar along with a spoon and crammed them into her robe pockets. With both mugs in hand she barely cast the robed figures a glance as she turned on her heel and began towards the door.

Unfortunately, one of the more aggressive believers wasn't going to let her get away easy and grabbed her robe sleeve. Coffee dribbled to the floor as her sleeve was tugged back. She then decided to stop ignoring the agitated man.

“Don't touch me! This coffee isn't for me.” She decided to take benefit from being Saeran’s assistant. “You don't want me to tell Saeran that you're bothering me, do you? He’s busy enough without having to deal with you. Now, excuse me.” She harrumphed and shook her arm loose. The cup with the least coffee would be hers then.

This didn't seem to scare the Believer like she had hoped. He followed her out the door and into the living space. The people that were standing in groups or lounging around immediately turned their attention to the disruption.

“Don't act so high and mighty, you don't deserve that position! You're just the RFA’s rat!” she clenched her jaw and stopped her in her tracks. No, it's not worth it . With many eyes burning into her, she reluctantly started to walk and ignore the man again when he grabbed her good this time, sending it falling off around her shoulders to reveal her face and hair. She had enough. She didn't care how much trouble she got in. She turned towards the man with full intent of dousing his ass in boiling hot coffee.

Before she could swing her arm back, a hand was rested on her shoulder. She stopped to glance behind her. It was another hooded figure. She wasn't sure if she was being attacked or helped by the person behind her so she jerked her shoulder from the person's touch, trying to steady the coffee. A familiar and comforting voice told her that she had been saved by a friend.

“I'm Believer A306. The Savior had something to ask you, we need to go meet her immediately,” the voice stated before directing his voice at the attacker, “If there are no other disturbances, then we must be going.”

“Oh, of course. I'm sorry to be a bother.” The man said, his tone passive aggressive. Thank god that she hadn't had the chance to toss coffee on the man. Saeran would have been pissed and she would had caught hell for it.

Myung quietly agreed and watched as he pulled her away from the dumbstruck man. The familiar person pulled her into an empty hallway. The dull candle light flickered over the navy curtains, even so early in the morning.

“Thank heavens for you, Jihyun. I tried to ignore him but he-” she was cut off when the man in front of her shushed her. She silenced herself to listen to what he had to say. He was her only gateway to the outside and she longed to find out if he had told the others where she was. Was he going to deliver news that they were working on a way to help her? She felt excited and anxious simultaneously as she stood there. Hopefully, he had done the right thing.

“Myung, I sent the coordinates of this place to Luciel however…” the man looked down at the ground, his turquoise eyes avoiding hers, “He's having a hard time with his other work right now. The deadline is so tight that if he doesn't get it finished on time, the agency will...well…” he trailed off but she knew what he meant. The agency would make him disappear, like he has briefly mentioned before. Her heart sank and she struggled to ask what was in her mind.

“So… I have to stay here longer?” She questioned, her voice heavy with disappointment. She saw the man nod but found another way “Why not you just get me out of here? Are you still planning on staying here?” her face twisted with confusion and hurt.

“I...I have to. I have to stay here to keep an eye on her. I think she still may change.”  his voice thick. He was barely able to read the confusion on her face with his poor eyesight, “Rika, I mean. I can't leave here.”

Myung pressed her lips together while thinking. There was silence as she calmed herself. At first, she wanted to yell at the man in front of her and demand to be brought home. She only knew from experience that further prodding would cause him to sputter an excuse and run away just like he did in the chatrooms, like he did in the dungeon before. She wanted to tackle this carefully. From what Jumin had said, V was very fragile right now.

“Did you at least tell the others? Did you tell Jumin in the very least? Please don't tell me that he still has no clue where I am?” her voiced still leaked the emotion that she felt despite tried to keep it inside. The teal haired man took a deep breath.

“Jumin… is not doing well. He knows that Luciel is working towards finding you, but he doesn't know where or how you are. If I tell him, it will hurt him more to know that you are here. I'll just get Luciel to get you a soon as possible. Just play the part here and lay low.” Jihyun said and she anticipated that he was going to say more, but there were voices from the other end of the hallway. She had no time to get angry at him for  not telling Jumin, no time to yell at him for being a horrible friend to Jumin who trusted him fully. She just murmured a quick goodbye and set off down the hallway away from him.

She wasn't really sure when or how, but by the time she had reached Saeran's office door, the coffee had grown cold. Turning back towards the kitchen defeatedly, she felt the warmth of tears drip down her face.

Saeran didn't pry much after she told him that the reason that she was late was because of some jackass harassing her. He didn't seem to care, he just wanted his coffee hot. She watched as he dumped so much sugar into the mug that she's surprised he didn't need insulin.

Without much trouble, they both went to work. She didn't really hate his guts like she had before not was she super terrified of her. She wondered if he was moody lately or if he had been acting when he was all coy and mysterious in the beginning.

Before, she would have thought that slightly messing up would have caused him to do something devilishly horrible. It's only been two days, but she already felt less rigid around him. Yeah, the atmosphere was absolute hell but he didn't really need to threaten her much. Maybe that was why he seemed to drop the sadistic and cot attitude. Maybe it was because she was doing what he asked without much argument or maybe he was just waiting for his mood to change. Either way, she still threaded carefully around him. She certainly didn't want to see the business end of that pistol again.

While she was in the middle of the third book, she unexpectedly got a light smack in the cheek with a spiked bracer.

It didn't hurt but she flinched back. She realized that he had not done it on purpose but rather he had been stretching and accidentally brushed her. This did not stop her words to rip themselves from her lips.

“Ow! What the fuck was that for!” she growled. It was the first thing to slice the silence since this morning and it was noon. The man for the first time seemed to realize that she was sitting next to him and startled at her outburst. He really gets it the zone when he works. His mint eyes glanced tiredly over at the brunette.

“I didn't mean to, gosh. Calm down.” He grumbled back, folding his arms over each over. This was the first time today she had seen his hands away from the touchscreen. He looked pouty and defensive.

“Why do you wear that dumb bracelet anyways? It's so edgy and borderline dangerous you should expect to hurt someone with It someday.” She began, “I understand you want to look all cool and bruting but damn. Doesn't that hinder your typing?

“Where's this coming from all of a sudden? What does my bracer have to do with my work? I can work fine with It on.” He stated, turning his swivel chair towards her and away from his work. Oh, this was the perfect chance to distract him from his work and slow him down! Myung propped her head on her arm.

“And also, why do you wear your jacket like that? You know it's supposed to cover both of your shoulders, right?” She questioned. Saeran lifted his eyebrows at this commentary on his fashion sense...or there lack of.

“Look,” he demanded, leaning back and pointing at his decorated shoulder, “It shows off my tattoo if I leave one sleeve off.” He pointed out as if proud of it. Myung blinked and came up with another question.

“Ah, I see. Why on earth would you show off that tattoo anyways? You know tattoos are super frowned on.” she questioned, looking at her nails. He hadn't even glanced at the monitors. She was doing a good job. He struggled to articulate his answer, but he finally did.

“Its dedicated to this place, to my Savior. It shows my dedication to the Mint Eye and to all of the Believers here. In a way, it even shows my dedication to you.” He said, almost smiling to himself at the thought of such a noble cause. But something else lead him to frown and lose that dream like look of happiness from talking about his passion. “But it also reminds me every day of the ones who have hurt me, who have betrayed me.” his time turned dark at some memory. Myung just kept her gaze at her fingernails, not knowing what to say to that. He is so edgy.

“You said dedicated to me? Why would you be dedicated to me, I'm just the RFA hostage, right?” She questioned, sharing her thoughts on the situation, on her position.

There was a moment when she thought she saw softness in the man's eyes. Maybe even a hint of confusion but overall, his expression stayed confident. He leaned forward in his chair and placed his elbows on his knees.

“I'm dedicated to you because I know that I have saved you by bringing you here. I know that one day you'll thank me for this. You'll be so happy once you find out that you got out of the hellhole that is the RFA. Saving people like you who have been fooled is my dedication. I'm sure that you'll accept this place as your home.” He said with the same confidence in his voice, a lingering hint of genuine concern and sincerity coated his words.

He actually truly believes he's helping her. He really believes that. In his eyes, he has saved her. How? What kind of shitty situation has he been in that makes him believe that this place could ever be a home for him? She felt a twinge of pity for the man.

“If that's how you believe...then why do you say that the RFA is a hellhole. I'll admit that everyone has their flaws, even the person I'm most biased towards. But how can you say that people who work so hard to help others are bad?” She was actually curious and forgot that she was supposed to be distracting him. She wanted to know how he would rationalise this. He took a deep breath appearing to be choosing his words carefully.

“I don't think that everyone in the RFA is bad. There are just two inherently evil and corrupted people who lie and mislead the others. This is what has corrupted the RFA. They all need salvation with the exception of one person who doesn't deserve it.” he said this slowly to really hand the point over to her.

“Let me guess, because of Rika, V is the one that doesn't deserve “salvation”?” She guessed, but Saeran shook his head. Then who…?

“As horrible as V is and as bad as the things he has done, he may with a lot of guidance be saved. The one who is too far gone is Luciel. The Savior and I decided that he would never be allowed to enter paradise because of what he had done.” The topic turned his voice bitter, his eyes grew dark and bitterness turned his face to stone. Myung was perplexed. What had Seven possibly done? She made her mind up to defend him.

“I'm sure that's not the case. Seven is weird, yeah, and he also lies a bunch but that's his job. I don't think he's a bad person. If what you say is true, then the worst he has done is let me stay in an apartment with a bomb.” She tried to sound lighthearted as if the apartment wasn't a big deal. If she got out of here, however, she would chew his ass over it.

“And if that's the worst, then Jumin saved me from that. As long as he takes the bomb out, all is forgiven right?” She tried to reason in defence of her friend...if she could call him that. Their last conversation could have been a friendship ender.

The man instead of immediately arguing back gave an unexpected and chilling laugh. She was taken aback and was almost tempted to scoot her chair away from him. What on earth could be worse than leaving a bomb in an apartment? When the laughter finally died from the man, his green eyes glinted. There it was, that lost coy attitude that had disappeared for the past few days.

“He's got you so fooled! Can't you see that he's got you completely brainwashed in believing him? He's horrible and you wouldn't dare trust him around you if you knew what he's done. You don't even know what to call him. Tell me, what's his name, Myung?” he asked trying to prove a point. She had never been less confident in an answer. Saeran's eyes never left hers. With the length of time that she took hesitating, his smile grew with the satisfaction that she didn't know.

“Well… His baptismal name is Luciel…. That's all I know. Besides, his name doesn't really matter. Lots of people have nicknames.” she answered, surely he couldn't argue with that. Saeran lifted his eyebrows and leaned his head on his palm.

“You're too sweet, too naive. His names are not nicknames, Myung. He doesn't use his real name because he wants to forget the horrible things he's done.” He he said with a knowing smile. A dangerous smile.

“What do you know? How would you know what he's done? “ she challenged. The man grabbed her hands and pulled them into his own. He had very cold hands, she observed. She would have yanked her hands back if she wasn't so invested in the conversation.

“That's what I'm trying to tell you. Just be patient and I'll let you in on the whole story.” when he said the word “patient”, he squeezed her hands.

“Imagine there are two twin brothers in a house with only their mother. These two boys are super close and rely on each other for everything because their mother is abusive and violent in every sense of the two words. She rarely fed the two so they had to be especially careful of her whims in order to get fed” He began, Myung felt transfixed by his words. What is he getting at?

“One of the two boys is highly favored while the other boy who is weak is picked out and used to vent the mother's anger. Because the stronger brother is favored, he is allowed to go outside of the house and he goes to church. Of course, he comes home and tells the weaker twin that he met nice people at church and is planning on rescuing them both. Let me spoil the story for you.” He said the last sentence rather sharply.

“The stronger brother decided that his smaller brother was a burden and left him. The favored brother left and went with his new friends to have parties and have fun. He changed his name to forget the brother he left behind. The abandoned brother, however, didn't get a lucky shot to escape. No, what happened was the mother lost her shit and came down on him twice as hard never believing that he didn't have something to do with the other’s disappearance.” Saeran tugged her hands for emphasis. Myung got it. She understood what the story was about, so that means...

“You're a smart girl so I trust you don't have to be told who the two brothers in this story are, do you? Just to make it more clear, the RFA’s precious Seven is my brother, Saeyoung. I was just lucky enough to be rescued by the Savior.” Saeran laughed darkly at Myung's expression. She was sure her face showed here mix of emotions.

“So, do you think he deserves anything more than hatred? Your good friend?” he asked, tilting his head to the side in mockery. Myung held his gaze for who knows how long. Her heart sank and almost broke.

She herself had two brothers, one older and one younger and she could never leave them in a situation like that. She wasn't even close to her younger brother but just the thought made her heart clench. Seven...no, Saeyoung had never even mentioned that he had a brother. Did he have a reason to leave him? There's still no exception. She would call Saeran a liar, but she saw the look in on his eyes as he shared his story with her. She finally found the words.

“I can't imagine how horrible that was for you. I could never hurt my brothers like that. I...I can't defend what he did to you. I'm really sorry.” She said and tried to look away from his face. Now she really felt like….shit.

“See? It was only a matter of time before he did the same to the RFA, to you.” He then pulled his hands from hers and pulled her to his chest. Woah, this is not okay. “I saved you from that fate.” His voice rang out truth...but It wasn't her truth. She pushed him away and stood. His features shown a hint of hurt before molding back into a mischievous grin.

“I'm sorry Saeran, but you haven't saved me. Bringing me here didn't save me and no matter how much you or anyone here tries, this is not my home. I want to go home, to Jumin. It's not right to keep me here. I know you won't change your mind, but I want you to understand how I feel.” She hesitated before continuing her thoughts “And I want you to understand that it's also not right to trap yourself here.”

Before he could grab her, argue, or stand she headed for the door shouting over her shoulder that she's going to go take a break.

She went to her room that was thankfully empty and had herself a cry. She was confused as of why, but her tears still spilled for the second time that day.

CH1 CH2 CH3 CH4 CH5 CH6 CH7 CH8 CH9 CH10 CH11 CH12 CH13 CH14 CH15 CH16 CH17 CH18 CH19 CH20 CH21 CH22 CH23 CH24 CH25 CH26

[lesbianbeiovaz]

Parallel: From Another World 9/34

Short chapter but still a chapter. ;) Just a heads up but I go on holiday for a week tomorrow so there won't be any updates for a while.

Rita Stone lives in our world. The world where a big blue box bigger on the inside is simply impossible. However, this all changes after what is most definitely an impossible event. Then again nothing is impossible with the Doctor. Follow Rita through time and space, learning about herself while struggling to comprehend her new life travelling with the Doctor and his companions.

AO3 | CH1 | CH2 | CH3 | CH4 | CH5 | CH6 | CH7 | CH8 | CH9 | CH10 | CH11  | CH12

"Come on!" The Doctor ran back to Sir Robert, the Queen, Rose and Rita running through the hall where the woman had saved Rose's life. He turned a corner and sprinted up the stairs.

"The observatory's this way." Sir Robert told them taking the lead.

The five continued to run up the stairs following Sir Robert. "No mistletoe in these doors because your father wanted the wolf to get inside." The Doctor pointed out running into the room then stopping. "I just need time. Is there any way of barricading this?" he asked gesturing to the door.

"Just do your work and I'll defend it." Sir Robert made the quick decision.

"If we could bind them shut with rope or something," he suggested running back to the man knowing what he was thinking of doing, the five then heard the wolf howl getting close to them.

"I said I'd find you time," Robert repeated "Sir. Now get inside."

"Goodman." The Doctor patted his shoulder proudly, Rita stood by the TimeLord looking at Sir Robert sadly, he was risking his life for his Queen and country, did he blame himself for this? For not warning the Queen? Most likely, should he? No definitely not Rita couldn't stop thinking about it as the Doctor pulled her away, into the observatory.

"Your Majesty, the diamond." The Doctor gestured to the diamond inside of the Queens bag, Rose stood by frowning not understanding what was going on. Rita, on the other hand, stood not paying attention, her mind elsewhere silently grieving over the people lost tonight and the people to be lost in her future.

"For what purpose?" Queen Victoria frowned although she complained bringing out the diamond and handing it to the Doctor.

"The purpose it was designed for."

"Rose." the Doctor ran to the controls of the telescope which began to rise. He pointed at the controls, "lift it. Come on."

"Is this the right time for stargazing?" Rose asked sarcastically not understanding why the Doctor was doing this.

"Yes, it is." He said back, "Rita stand here" he pointed next to Rose not noticing the plain empty look on the brunettes face, nothing like the ecstatic jumpy look she girl normally had.

"You said this thing doesn't work." Rose pointed out to the Doctor snipping the wheel on the controls moving the telescope up further and further.

"It doesn't work as a telescope because that's not what it is." He explained "It's a light chamber. It magnifies the light rays like a weapon. We've just got to power it up."

"It won't work. There's no electricity. Moonlight. But the wolf needs moonlight. It's made by moonlight." Rose spoke not having very much faith in the Doctors plan. Yet she continued to do as he said.

"You're seventy percent water but you can still drown." he pointed out as if his plan was very simple and clear however to Rose and most likely Rita when she was 'watching' the episode they didn't understand. "Come on! Come on!" The Doctor shouted just as the wolf broke into the room. The Doctor then slid the diamond under the telescope lens which caused a bright light to bounce inside it getting larger and larger the further down. The wolf charged over to Queen Victoria as the light hit the floor then reflecting upwards coming into contact with the wolf which howled in pain and then slowly rose from the floor. An outline of the wolf was left mid-air in the bright light before it changed into a young man.

"Make it brighter. Let me go." the wolf/man whispered. The Doctor compelled to the wolfs wishes brightening the light and setting the creature free causing it to change back into the wolf and then howl before vanishing the light following its path.

"Your Majesty? Did it bite you?" the Doctor spoke concerned slowly walking over to the Queen.

"No, it's, it's a cut, that's all." she denied. the Doctor knowing different pressed on with the subject.

"If that thing bit you"

"It was a splinter of wood when the door came apart. It's nothing." she waved the subject off. The Doctor, however, continued to press on slowly moving over to the Queen.

"Let me see." he ordered more than asked.

"It is nothing." Queen Victoria snapped her arm away, a scold on her face. "I'm perfectly fine.

"Ok then" the Doctor nodded finally letting the subject go.

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Rita, the Doctor and Rose were all kneeled down before the Queen and those who remained in the house. Queen Victoria herself held a sword and began to speak what looked like a knighting.

"By the power invested in me by the Church and the State, I dub thee Sir Doctor of Tardis." she stood before the Doctor placing the sword on both of his shoulders then standing back. "By the power invested in me by the Church and the State, I dub thee Dame Rose of the Powell Estate." She repeated the gesture and then once again for Rita who looked at the Doctor and Rose smiling. "By the power invested in me by the Church and the State, I dub thee Dame Rita of another world." she then finished stepping back "You may stand."

"Many thanks, Ma'am." The Doctor nodded smiling

"Thanks. They're never going to believe this back home." Rose grinned.

"Your Majesty, you said last night about receiving no message from the great beyond. I think your husband cut that diamond to save your life. He's protecting you even now, Ma'am, from beyond the grave."

"Indeed. Then you may think on this also." She paused and then added, "That I am not amused."

"Yes!" Rose beamed throwing a fit into the air.

"Not remotely amused." the Queen continued "And henceforth I banish you Sir Doctor and Dame Rose." The TimeLord and Rose frowned in confusion.

"I'm sorry?" the Doctor spoke up.

"I rewarded you, Sir Doctor, and now you are exiled from this empire, never to return." she began to explain. "I don't know what you are, the two of you, or where you're from, but I know that you consort with stars and magic and think it fun Dame Rita here warned you many times." the Queen smiled a little at Rita who bowed her head back. "But you did not listen to these warning, your world is steeped in terror and blasphemy and death, and I will not allow it. You will leave this shores and you will reflect, I hope, on how you came to stray so far from all that is good, and how much longer you will survive this terrible life, maybe dame Rita can bring you back to the good she is trying and I very much respect that." Rita just continued to smile which then sadly dropped remembering the course of last night. "Last night her face showed sadness, grief and lost, yours did not Sir Doctor. Now leave my world, and never return." She finally finished her speech and then adding after a moment of silence. "God help you Dame Rita"

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"I'm sorry-" the Doctor began to speak. The three sat on the back of a cart which was carrying them back to the TARDIS.

"Don't" Rita stopped him holding up her hand. "I'm fine really" she smiled sadly. "I couldn't stop it and I know that, it would have unknown horrible repercussions not just on this world but possibly mine and other worlds as well," Rita spoke her voice soft yet harsh holding onto the tears which she could feel slowly forming in her eyes. Rita wasn't one to cry very much but after seeing Isobel's face when she was getting knighted compared to the Doctor and Rose she felt guilty and upset.

"I know how you feel Rita I can help-"

"That's the thing Doctor" she turned to him, a tear slowly making its way down her face escaping her glassy watery eyes. "You have no idea who I am or how I am even here" she waved her hands around gesturing to everywhere. "I have no idea what I am doing here and honestly it scares me. I know the future and there are things I can't stop or change and it hurts knowing the future" she sighed "I'll learn, though" gulping back the tears she looked up at him then moved her gaze over to Rose sitting beside her the blonde took her hand and smiled sadly. "Because if I want to find out why I am here then I might as well try to learn how to help." she smiled a little, not a sad smile but a genuine smile.

"I shouldn't have been careless and actually listened to you" the Doctor sighed. "At least I now know what to do." he grinned lighting the mood a little.

"Even you make mistakes every now and then." Rita joked chuckling a little.

"They say 'it's human to make mistakes', I guess you could also say that 'it's Time Lord to make mistakes' as well" Rose and Rita shook their heads at the silly comment.

The three traveled to the TARDIS chatting and watching the senary from the back of the cart the mood was brighter as the Doctor and his companions joked. He didn't forget about her or the Queens words for a single moment. 'Her face showed sadness, grief and lost, yours did not Sir Doctor' He didn't even notice it. Too busy showing off as always but why? How could he not notice sure he didn't know the brunette for long but it troubled him that it didn't even cross his mind. not to mention her comment. 'You have no idea who I am' He sighed at the thought knowing it was very well true, Rita had only been traveling with the Doctor and Rose for just over a two weeks and honestly he didn't know very much about her, she kept quiet about most of her life apart from hobbies and where she lived he knew that her parents were not alive but didn't know what or how they were no longer living. I will find out Rita Stone. He thought to himself jumping of the cart with Rita and Rose when it came to a stop.

"Cheers, Dougal!" the Doctor waved at the man walking towards the small blue figure which was the TARDIS in the distance.

"Walk on."

"No, but the funny thing is, Queen Victoria did actually suffer a mutation of the blood." the Doctor explained to the girls. "It's historical record. She was haemophiliac. They used to call it the Royal Disease. But it's always been a mystery because she didn't inherit it. Her mum didn't have it, her dad didn't have it. It came from nowhere."

"What, and you're saying that's a wolf bite?" Rose questioned. Rita nodded in response the Doctor explained it.

"Well, maybe haemophilia is just a Victorian euphemism."

"For werewolf?" Rose raised a brow.

"Could be."

"Queen Victoria's a werewolf?" Rose laughed at the thought.

"Don't forget the rest of them" Rita snorted

"Could be. And her children had the Royal Disease. Maybe she gave them a quick nip." the Doctor joked while they continued to walk towards the TARDIS which was now quite close.

"So, the Royal Family are werewolves?" Rose double checked.

"Well, maybe not yet. I mean, a single wolf cell could take a hundred years to mature. Might be ready by, oh, early 21st century?"

"You're just saying that to be clever." Rita rolled her eyes. "Yes, they are werewolves Rose" Rita confirmed.

"Nah, that's just ridiculous!" she waved it off then thought for a moment. "Mind you, Princess Anne."

"I'll say no more." the Doctor grinned.

"And if you think about it, they're very private." she widened her eyes "They plan everything in advance. They could schedule themselves around the moon." she started to laugh. "We'd never know."

"They also enjoy hunting" Rita spoke up laughing along with the blonde the Doctor opened the TARDIS door he then walked in and held it open for the girls.

"They love blood sports. Oh my God, they're werewolves!" Rose concluded.

"God that's making me shiver at the thought of a wolf running the country. Very clever though" Rita nodded holding her arms and shivering. "Imagine if someone was to find out! No country would trust us again" Rita chuckled leaning against the console.

"Best not tell anyone then" the Doctor winked and then started to play with the console. The TARDIS then dematerialised the three burst out laughing at their conclusion on the Queen and the Royal family being werewolves.

[lastbluetardis]

And Babies Make Five and Six (4/16)

Summary: Sometimes the things we want the most stay just out of reach. But after an extra helping of heartache as they try for a third baby, James and Rose are blessed with double the joy. 

Trigger warning for infertility for select chapters--this is one of those chapters.

Ten x Rose AU

This chapter: NSFW, 8800 words

Betaed by the marvelous @chocolatequeennk, and also written for @doctorroseprompts because it is a Doctor x Rose fic.

AO3 | TSP | FF | Perfectly Matched Series

Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 | Ch10 | Ch11 | Ch12 | Ch13 | Ch14 | Ch15 | Ch16

James’s ears rang. Rose was pregnant?

Hope swelled up through his stomach and into his chest as he pawed through the trash, looking for the test. He was optimistic when he couldn’t find it; Rose always saved the test to announce her pregnancy to him. He couldn’t wait until she got home.

But then he heard a soft rattling noise when he put the test box back in the trash, and his heart sank. He took out the box again and opened it; a thin piece of plastic was inside. He dumped the test out onto his palm, and all of the air left his lungs when he flipped it over. One vertical line greeted him.

Not pregnant.

Not pregnant? But they were trying so hard. Why weren’t they pregnant? He wanted them to be pregnant. It had been a year and a half. Surely this test was wrong.

“Daddy!”

The door to their bedroom burst open, and James hastily dropped the test back into the trash as he wheeled around.

“Ainsley, you’re supposed to knock if the bedroom door is closed,” James reminded, even though there was nothing that Ainsley’s eyes shouldn’t be seeing. He was appropriately dressed in his trousers, and his bare chest was nothing she hadn’t seen before.

“Daddy, we’re gonna be late!” she said, ignoring what he’d just said.

“No we’re not, darling.” James glanced at the clock and realized he was nearly fifteen minutes behind his usual schedule. “Come. Let’s get some breakfast.”

He glanced into Sianin’s room on his way to the kitchen, and noted the toddler was still sleeping. He’d let her sleep a few minutes more while he whipped up Ainsley’s breakfast, then he’d work on getting her ready for daycare.

“Toast and eggs okay?” he asked even as he grabbed the bread from the pantry.

“Yep. Where’s Mummy?”

“She had a work thing early this morning,” James said. “In Cardiff.”

“Where’s that?”

“In Wales,” he answered. “I’ll show you a map later. But right now, can you grab yourself a cup of milk or juice?”

In a few minutes, James had Ainsley’s breakfast plated in front of her.

“Okay, you tuck in, I’m gonna wake your sister and finish getting dressed.”

He strode down the hallway to Sianin’s room, where the toddler was still asleep.

James crept into her room and crouched down beside her before he brushed her hair away from her face. She groaned and scrunched her face, then lifted her hand to push his hand away. He chuckled. For as much as Sianin hated falling asleep, it was quite the event to get her to wake up again.

“Rise and shine, my darling,” he whispered, rubbing his hand across her back.

“No,” she mumbled, even as her eyes cracked open. Her gaze was unfocused, and she closed her eyes and let out a low sigh, seemingly content to go back to sleep.

“Waking you up as a teenager is sure to be fun,” muttered to himself. Then he raised his voice slightly to continue rousing his daughter. “Come now, Sianin, it’s time to get up. You’ve got a great day ahead of you. I’ve got some yummy breakfast waiting for you, then all the fun activities at daycare.”

Another minute passed, then Sianin fully opened her eyes and sat up.

“Good morning,” he cooed softly.

“Mornin’,” she said through a yawn while she scrubbed her fists into her eyes. “Gotta wee. Go wee, Daddy.”

“Quite right,” he said, scooping her into his arms to walk her to the loo.

After she used her toilet, James got her dressed for the day then carried her into his bedroom.

“I know you’re probably hungry, but just come with Daddy while he gets a shirt on, eh?”

He continued talking with Sianin as he set her onto his and Rose’s bed and grabbed an oxford at random from his closet.

“What color is Daddy’s shirt, Sian?” James asked as he slipped his arms through the sleeves.

“Blue!” she said with a proud smile.

“Good job! And what about this? What colors are in my tie?” He trailed his fingertip across the gradient of colors.

“Brown. Blue. Blue again!”

“Well done, darling. Who’s my big, clever girl?” James cooed. He shrugged into a blazer, then picked his daughter up and pressed a smacking kiss to her neck. She squirmed and shrieked out a giggle, and the sound warmed James from the inside out. There wasn’t a more beautiful sound than that of his family laughing. “Done! We’ve got to hurry a bit with breakfast, though. Daddy’s running a little late. Don’t tell your sister, though.”

Ainsley was nearly finished with her breakfast by the time he entered the room with Sianin.

“Go clean your teeth and get dressed,” James ordered as he strapped Sianin into her chair. “Once Sianin finishes her breakfast, we’ll leave.”

James breathed a sigh of relief when Sianin ate her food without a fuss. It was sometimes difficult to get her to eat in a timely fashion, and it was usually worse when they were behind schedule, as though the toddler knew and she vindictively ate slower or messier just to make them even later.

But Sianin ate her cold eggs and crust-less toast without complaint, and James only had to endure five minutes of Ainsley’s whining for Sianin to hurry up and that they were going to be late.

“Patience, darling,” James reminded. “We’re not going to be late, but even if we are, it’s no big deal. I’ll just sign a slip of paper. No harm done.”

A few minutes later, James had bundled up his girls against the chilly October wind and buckled them into the car to take them to school. Usually he dropped Sianin off first, as it was between the house and the school, but to alleviate Ainsley’s unwarranted anxiety, he dropped her off first.

“See, plenty of time,” James said as he idled in front of the school, where students were still trickling into the building. He helped Ainsley out of her car seat and knelt down in front of her. “There was no reason for you to be so worried, all right? No need to make such a big fuss for something so small. It’s not worth it getting upset over the little things in life. Okay?”

“Okay,” Ainsley conceded with a sheepish smile.

“That’s my girl,” he whispered, tugging her in for a hug. He pressed his lips to the top of her head. “Have a good day. I’ll see you tonight. Love you lots.”

“Love you, too,” she said. “Bye, Daddy!”

He watched her run towards a boy James recognized as one of her friends, and he waited until they were inside before getting back into the car.

“And time for Miss Sianin to go to daycare,” he said, glancing at his toddler in the rear-view mirror, before pulling out onto the street to drop off his youngest.

He made it to his office only a few minutes later than normal, and that was even with him stopping at the local coffee shop for caffeine and a muffin. With the girls safely at school and daycare, there was nothing keeping James from thinking back to the pregnancy test he’d found in the trash.

When had Rose taken the test? What had made her think she was pregnant? Was she feeling ill? James wracked his brain, but there was no indication that Rose wasn’t feeling well. Perhaps she was good at hiding it?

No, she’d’ve told me something felt off, he thought, dismissing it immediately.

Then perhaps her period had been late, triggering her suspicion. Or maybe she’d had a moment of niggling intuition, and she just knew she was pregnant.

But according to the test, she wasn’t pregnant.

His memory brought back to life the moment nearly a year and a half ago when Rose had taken a pregnancy test, only for it to have come back negative. He remembered the heartbreak in her face just before she’d sobbed into his chest.

Had she been that distraught when she’d taken this test and saw it was negative? His heart broke at the idea that Rose had cried by herself while he slept, unsuspecting, just the next room over.

He was dying to call her and ask what had happened, and why she hadn’t told him. If he was being honest, he was hurt she’d kept this from him. Surely he had a right to know that she’d suspected she was pregnant with their child?

But she was busy, and probably wouldn’t answer. Besides, if she had been upset about the test result, he didn’t want to upset her while she was working. It could wait until tonight.

He threw himself into his work to distract himself, but the time still crawled. The highlight of his day came when Rose wrote to him during his lunch break.

This new software is amazing!

James smiled as he munched on the pad thai he’d ordered when he realized he’d forgotten to bring a lunch.

“User friendly?” he asked.

For the most part. There were a few places I thought it wasn’t quite intuitive, and I told them so. But still, it’s so great, James!

He grinned as she began to ramble about all the properties and functions the software had, most of which he didn’t understand. But he didn’t mind; he loved when she got this excited.

So how’s your day?

“Very slow,” he said. “I’m counting down the hours ‘til I can leave.”

I should be able to leave in another hour or so. Unless we hit any delays with the train, I should be home in time for supper.

“Excellent. See you then xoxo.”

James slurped down the rest of his lunch before going off to teach his only afternoon class.

The rest of the afternoon dragged on as agonizingly slowly as the morning had, but finally James deemed it late enough to clock out and go fetch his girls.

The evening moved just as slowly as the rest of the day, much to James’s frustration, but finally the girls were in bed and he and Rose were alone.

“I found something interesting in the trash this morning,” James said as Rose helped him wash the dishes they’d been neglecting for a couple days. When Rose stayed quiet, he asked, “Why didn’t you tell me you’d taken a pregnancy test?”

Rose shrugged. “Dunno. Doesn’t matter, does it? It came back negative.”

James eyed her carefully and noticed the tense set to her shoulders and jaw that belied her nonchalant tone.

“And how did you feel when you saw it was negative?” he asked softly, setting is dish towel down.

“What do you want me to say, James? I was hurt and disappointed, but it is what it is,” Rose said shortly. “We’ll just keep trying.”

“Why didn’t you wake me? You didn’t have to face it alone.”

“But then I would’ve had to see your disappointment, and I didn’t think I could handle that,” Rose said.

James frowned. “You don’t need to protect me or spare my feelings. If you’re upset, I want to know so I can give you a hug and tell you it’ll be all right.”

Rose gave him a wan smile before she stepped up to him and into his open arms. He held her close to him and rocked them gently as he nuzzled his nose into her hair.

“I was a little hurt that you kept this from me,” he admitted. “We tell each other everything. Surely I should be told if you suspect you’re pregnant?”

Rose sighed. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I just didn’t think it mattered since it came back negative.”

“Can I ask you something?” At her nod, he asked, “If I hadn’t found the test, would you have even told me about it?”

“Eventually,” Rose said. “When I wrapped my head around my disappointment and didn’t feel like I was gonna burst into tears by telling you.”

His heart clenched in sympathy and he tightened his hold around her. “We’re partners, Rose. A team. Teams work best when there is open and honest communication.”

“I know. I know, and I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t want to get your hopes up by telling you my period was nearly a week late, is all.”

“Don’t worry about my feelings,” James said. “We’re in this together.”

Rose nodded and pulled back to cradle his cheeks in her palms.

“I will always worry about your feelings,” she countered. “But I promise I will let you know all of the gory details of my monthly from here on out.”

She spoke with such a straight face that James couldn’t help the smile that twitched across his lips, one that Rose then mirrored with a beaming grin. He chuckled and pulled her close once more.

“I really am sorry,” Rose whispered. “Let me make it up to you?”

“Hmm, what do you have in mind?”

Rose walked her hands down his back and to his bum, where she gave it a quick squeeze before she brought her hands around to the front of his trousers to tease at his zipper.

“I’ll think of something.”

oOoOo

“Mummy!”

Rose startled awake at her five-year-old’s hysterical cry and the way the door bounced off the wall from the force with which Ainsley opened it.

“Mummy! Daddy! My ear exploded!”

Rose swung her legs off the bed and saw Ainsley standing beside the bed with her hand clapped over her right ear. The poor thing was shaking and in tears, and Rose’s heart twisted. Her daughter had complained of an earache since the afternoon before, and it seemed like it finally ruptured. Of course that would scare a five-year-old.

“Let me see,” Rose said gently as she flicked on her bedside lamp.

“What happened?”

James came around and squatted at Ainsley’s side.

“My ear exploded!” Ainsley shrieked.

“Let me see,” Rose said again, a little more firmly.

“There’s ear juice on my pillow!” Ainsley whimpered.

The five-year-old finally lowered her hand, and Rose saw a pinkish-yellowish liquid was beginning to crust in and around her ear.

“You just have an infection,” Rose said soothingly. “Your ear didn’t explode, sweetheart. Nothing to be scared of. This happens sometimes. We’ve got an appointment with Dr. Andrews today, remember?”

“It hurts,” Ainsley whimpered, sniffling. “Both ears hurt, Mummy.”

“I know,” Rose whispered. “Come. I’ll clean your ear, then you can sleep with me and Daddy tonight.”

Rose picked up Ainsley and carried her to the en suite, where she sat her down on the vanity. James followed them and rooted around in the cabinet, where he found a bottle of liquid acetaminophen. Rose quickly cleaned out Ainsley’s ear, while James poured out a dose of medicine for Ainsley.

“This will help, darling,” he said, handing her the liquid. He pressed the backs of his fingers to her forehead. “And it will help your temperature, too.”

After Ainsley swallowed down the medicine with a grimace and a shudder, Rose carried their daughter back to bed, and settled her in the middle. As soon as Rose crawled into bed, Ainsley snuggled up beside her and sniffled.

“I’m so sorry you’re not feeling well,” Rose murmured, her heart breaking. “Try to get some sleep. We’ll get you to the doctor tomorrow, and they’ll make you feel better.”

Their sleep was restless for the rest of the night. Ainsley dozed in fits, and whenever she awoke, she whimpered and complained of the pain in her ears. Finally, morning dawned and they got up and prepared for their day.

Ainsley’s appointment wasn’t until late-morning, and so Rose was taking her into the office with her until the appointment. After that, James would collect Ainsley and take her home.

Rose breezed into the office with Ainsley on her hip. Her cheek was on her shoulder, and she kept digging her ear into her mum’s shoulder.

“Aw, is someone not feeling well?” asked Rose’s coworker, Penny.

“Ear infection,” Rose sighed, rubbing her hand across Ainsley’s back. “I’m taking her to the doctor at eleven.” She brushed Ainsley’s hair away from her face and said, “Ready to go to Mummy’s office?”

Ainsley nodded, and Rose walked back to her office. She had quite a bit to get done today, which is why she’d brought Ainsley with her; otherwise, she would’ve taken the morning off.

Rose settled at her desk and fired up her computer, keeping Ainsley in her lap as she pulled up the photographs she needed to touch up and get sent out to clients for the go-ahead to print.

Ainsley was utterly miserable all morning, and Rose hated that she couldn’t have stayed home with her daughter. But she had a deadline, and James was proctoring an exam until eleven-thirty.

“Daddy’s birthday is coming up. Would you like to make a card for him?” Rose asked when Ainsley started getting restless.

Ainsley nodded, and Rose saved her file before she reached into her drawer for her tablet. She turned it on and opened up a simple sketching program, then selected the option for designing a card.

“Here you go. But you must be very careful with it, okay?” Rose stood up and moved to sit on the floor with her daughter to teach her the basic commands Ainsley might need to draw what she wanted to make. She taught her daughter how to change the color and thickness of the pen lines and supervised Ainsley for a few minutes until she was satisfied her five-year-old was okay.

They passed the morning in relative silence, broken only by Ainsley asking questions about the tablet.

“Do you think Daddy will love it?” Ainsley asked, showing Rose her final product.

Rose smiled as she saw the drawing of a brown-haired girl floating behind a brown-haired man.

“He’ll definitely love it,” Rose promised. “Is that you and Daddy?”

“Uh huh. He’s giving me a piggyback ride,” Ainsley said, pointing. “And on the inside…” She tapped on the screen to go to the inside cover of the card, where Ainsley had drawn the entire family. Then on the opposite side, she’d written, “Happy birthday, daddy! I love you a whole lot! Love, Ainsley”.

“It’s beautiful, sweetheart,” Rose said. “I’ll print this out for you, and I’ll keep it safe for you until the twenty-seventh, okay? But now it’s time to go see Dr. Andrews.”

Rose saved Ainsley’s card then set the tablet back in her desk drawer. She took her daughter’s hand and guided her out of the office, locking the door behind her, and to the car.

They were called back almost as soon as they got to the doctor’s office, and after the nurse took Ainsley’s height, weight, temperature, and blood pressure, Rose sat beside Ainsley to wait for the doctor.

When she stepped into the room, Ainsley crawled into Rose’s lap as the doctor made to look in Ainsley’s throat and nose, then finally her ears. The doctor concluded that Ainsley’s eardrum had indeed ruptured.

“It broke?” Ainsley asked worriedly, looking up at Rose with wide eyes.

“It’s completely normal,” the doctor soothed. “I’ll bet your ear is beginning to feel a lot better than it did yesterday?”

Ainsley nodded. “My left ear still hurts.”

“What an infection is is fluid buildup, mostly,” the doctor explained. “And that pressure is what causes the pain. But eventually that pressure will get to be too much and it ruptures.”

“Like last night when you thought your ear exploded,” Rose said. “Your other ear will probably do the same thing. And then it’ll start to feel better.”

“When?” Ainsley whined.

“Soon enough,” Rose answered, pressing a kiss to Ainsley’s temple.

“And I’ve got some medicine for you to help it feel better and to make the infection go away.” The doctor then turned to Rose. “Fluid might keep draining from her ears for a few more days. Just keep them clean, and give her all of the medicine, even if she says she’s feeling better. And keep an eye on her; sometimes ear infections travel to the sinuses or throat.”

Rose nodded, thanked the doctor, and walked out of the office, where a surprise was waiting in the waiting room.

“Daddy!”

“Hiya, darling! How are you feeling?”

“Okay,” she said. “My ear ruptured!”

“Your eardrum,” Rose corrected. She turned towards James and pecked a kiss to his lips. “The doctor sent the antibiotic prescription to the pharmacy. I gave both of our numbers for them to text when the prescription is ready to be picked up.”

“Great,” James said, and he held his arms out for Ainsley. “Are you ready to go home, darling?”

She nodded, and after giving Rose another kiss, James turned and walked Ainsley to his car.

Her earache cleared up after a couple days, and James and Rose were relieved when their daughter didn’t develop a sinus or respiratory infection from it, either.

“Why do I still have to take medicine?” Ainsley grumbled after James forced her to take a dose of the icky pink liquid.

“Because you had a bacterial infection,” he explained. “Bacteria are living things. Some are stronger than others, and so the weak ones are probably dead from the medicine, but some are still fighting. And if you stop taking your medicine, the strong ones will continue to live, and you could get sick again. Also, they’ll have recognized the medicine the doctor gave you, and they might develop immunity to it. That’s what’s called a superbug. We’re trying to avoid making superbugs.”

Ainsley blinked owlishly up at him, before she walked away and to her toys. A muffled snort caught his attention, and he glanced sheepishly over at Rose.

“It’s always a lesson with you, isn’t it?” she asked, grinning at him with that tongue-touched smile.

James put the antibiotic back into the fridge then stepped up to where Rose was sitting at the table.

“Any moment can be turned into a learning opportunity,” he said. “And I’m a man of learning. And teaching. I just can’t help it.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I married you for your brain, Professor Tyler-McCrimmon.”

“Are you saying it wasn’t for my devastatingly handsome good looks?” he asked, feigning affront.

Rose pursed her lips and tapped her chin as though in thought, and squealed when James reached out and tickled her ribs.

“Your ego doesn’t need any more stroking,” Rose gasped as she squirmed beneath his fingers.

“Perhaps not, but I’m sure I could provide something else for you to stroke.”

Rose cackled and swatted at his shoulder.

“There are two children who could’ve overheard you,” she chastised, but her reprimand lost its bite amidst her breathless laughter and bright eyes.

“Nah, they’re preoccupied with the telly. Besides, I don’t think they’ve grasped the concept of innuendo yet,” he said, bending down to touch the tip of his nose against hers.

“Thank God for that,” Rose murmured, her eyes fluttering shut as his breath puffed against her lips. “Everything that comes out of your mouth is an innuendo.”

“Pfft, don’t you act all innocent Mrs. Tyler-McCrimmon,” he snorted. “I know first-hand the level of filth that passes those lips.”

“That’s not the only thing that passes these lips,” she whispered, and she leaned forward to brush her lips against his.

His mouth parted, and she trailed her tongue lightly across his bottom lip, before slipping it into his mouth. He hummed as she trailed her tongue leisurely against his, and his hands scrabbled against her back as he deepened the kiss. He breathed heavily through his nose, which was smooshed against her cheek, and he tugged her clumsily to her feet.

Rose chuckled against his mouth but stood willingly and moved with him as he backed up and eased himself onto the kitchen table. She was somewhat impressed that he managed to keep kissing her as he shimmied up onto their table.

He spread his legs and tugged her forward. When she was between his legs, he loosely hooked his ankles around the backs of her thighs to keep her where she was as he continued kissing her. One of his hands was at the small of her back, holding her close, and the other was tangling and untangling itself in her hair while his lips moved leisurely against hers, catching and releasing her bottom lip between his own.

Remembering that she, too, had hands, she leaned closer to him and linked them around the back of his neck. She lightly scratched her nails across the back of his head and neck while her other hand moved forward to rest against his chest. His heart was pounding and his skin seemed to throb with heat beneath her palm. His chest rose and fell sporadically with his breathing, and she could feel hers heaving, too.

She loved this. Just being with James and snogging him breathless and feeling his body against hers. It was as though she could feel his very life force when they kissed. It was humbling and made her fall in love with him all over again.

“Mummy, did you…”

Rose gasped and straightened away from James. She took her hands off of him as he slipped his hand out from where it had ducked under her shirt. Her cheeks were burning as she tried to tame her hair and force her face to not look as though she’d been thoroughly snogging James against the kitchen table.

She glanced up at James to make sure he was presentable before she stepped out from between his legs. His cheeks were red, his lips were swollen, his hair was mussed, and his eyes were bright and shining. He looked as disheveled as she felt, and she couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled up in her chest. James returned the giddy sound, and she heard Ainsley sigh impatiently.

Rose swallowed down the rest of her laughter as best she could and turned to her daughter.

“Sorry Ainsley,” she said.

“What can we help you with?” James asked, sliding off of the table top to stand beside Rose.

“I gotta talk to Mummy,” Ainsley said.

“Oh?” he asked. “Daddy can’t help?”

“Nope,” Ainsley said.

James frowned at Rose. She shrugged and shooed him out of the kitchen.

He pouted but said, “Fine, keep your secrets. I’ll just… go and do my own secret… stuff.”

Rose watched him go, her body warm with love for her daft husband, before she looked back down at her daughter.

“What’s the matter, Ainsley?” she asked.

“Did you print the birthday card I made for Daddy?” she asked.

“I’ll print it for you tomorrow and bring it home with me,” Rose promised. “That way it will be all ready for you to give to him Friday morning. Okay?”

Ainsley nodded then went back into the living room to continue watching cartoons.

True to her word, Rose came home the following evening with Ainsley’s card, and she helped Ainsley fold it in half and decorate the envelope.

When James and Rose entered the kitchen on Friday morning—James’s birthday—Ainsley was sitting in her pajamas at the kitchen table and she was practically vibrating with excitement as James’s gaze landed on the glittery envelope sitting at his place on the table. Ainsley had decorated the front of the envelope with various stamps and shapes that framed the words “TO DADDY”.

“I’m gonna wake Sianin,” Rose said, giving James’s arm a squeeze before she walked back down the hallway.

“What’s this?” he asked, his heart swelling in his chest.

“Happy birthday, Daddy!” Ainsley squealed, slipping off her chair to run up to his legs.

He reached down and hauled her into his arms.

“Thank you, Ainsley,” he said, peppering kisses across her face.

“Open it,” she said, pointing to the envelope.

James picked up and smiled when he saw the words “I love you soooo much!” scrawled across the back seam of the envelope.

He eased it open, not wanting to tear up the words, and he finally was able to get to the card inside. It was printed on thick paper, and James recognized the small watermark logo of the company Rose worked for on the back of the card.

“This is beautiful!” James breathed, seeing what he assumed was a portrait of himself and Ainsley on the front of the card. “Oh, Ainsley, thank you!”

“Open it,” she said, resting her cheek on his shoulder.

James did, and his heart melted again as he saw a drawing of their family and the sentiment “Happy birthday, daddy! I love you a whole lot! Love, Ainsley”. He smiled at the card and tightened his arms around his five-year-old.

“Thank you so much, Ainsley,” he murmured into her hair.

“Do you like it?” she asked, her voice muffled by his shirt.

“I love it,” he said. He pulled back and pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Daddy,” Ainsley said, leaning forward to kiss his cheek.

He set her back on the ground just in time for his youngest to sprint into his legs.

“Whoa, there,” he said, nearly tripping over her.

Sianin bounced on her toes and beamed up at him as she squealed, “Happy bir’day, Daddy!”

“Why thank you, Sianin sweetheart!” he cooed, bending down to pick her up.

She leaned forward and blew a raspberry-kiss into his cheek, spraying his face with spit.

“I love you, too,” he said dryly, even as he grinned.

The family ate breakfast together, then James grabbed his and Rose’s suitcase as she loaded the kids into the car. For his birthday, he and Rose were taking a weekend holiday together. She’d surprised him with tickets to a theater show and reservations for a honeymoon suite in London. Robert was going to pick up the girls and stay with them at the house for the weekend.

James was excited for his birthday weekend. They hadn’t been to the theater in ages, at least not to see a show intended for adults and not small children, and it gave him and Rose an excuse to dress up nicely, which they hadn’t done in a while. He wore a new oxford and tie with his favorite suit jacket, and Rose had bought a new dress with a plunging neckline and open back. She looked so beautiful, and he could barely keep his hands to himself when Rose had let her dress skirt ride up her thigh throughout the theater show. Then he’d hurried them through dinner when Rose used far too much tongue to eat her food and her toes wandered endlessly up and down his legs.

She grinned as he rushed them to the lift of their hotel, and then to their room. As he fumbled with the key card, Rose stepped up behind him and pressed herself along the length of his back.

“Having a bit of trouble?” she asked innocently as he struggled to slide the card into the slot.

“These damn things never want to read for me,” he growled, turning the card again and again, but always missing the correct orientation.

“Let me try,” Rose said, and she wrapped her arms in front of him to yank it from his fumbling fingers. She stood on her tiptoes and pressed her breasts tight to his back so she could see the door handle. “You’ve just got to hold it steady.” As she spoke, she reached down and let her fingers graze across the front of his trousers, where she felt him hard and straining against the zip. “Then you simply line it up…” She gave his erection a soft squeeze. “And slide right in.”

She pressed a long, open-mouthed kiss to his neck and inserted the card into the lock, then removed her hand from James to reach in front of him to open the door.

“Easy peasy,” she whispered, before James turned and yanked her inside.

oOoOo

“So, Sianin’s almost three,” Jackie said as she, Rose, and James walked through the festive little town. Ainsley was trotting a little way ahead of them, looking at all of the beautiful window displays in the shops. Sianin had gotten over-excited and was asleep in the pram Jackie was pushing.

“Not for another three and a half months,” Rose said, glancing over at her mum, then down at her toddler.

“About the same age Ainsley was when you got pregnant with her,” Jackie said as though Rose hadn’t said anything.

Rose stiffened. “And?”

“And I was wondering if you were thinking of having any more,” Jackie said. “You adore these girls. I just figured you wouldn’t be stopping with two. God knows you have the means to have half a dozen kids.”

Rose clenched her fingers around James’s hand as white-hot anger and hurt seared through her chest. Not even the soothing stroke of James’s thumb across the back of her hand helped, and she snapped, “That’s none of your bloody business, is it?”

She dropped James’s hand and sped up to walk beside Ainsley, who was wandering a little too far for comfort.

James watched her go with an aching lump in his throat. When Rose caught up with Ainsley and swung her up into her arms, he turned back to his mother-in-law.

“She’s right, it isn’t any of your business,” James said curtly, “but if you must know, Rose and I have been trying for another baby for over a year now.”

Her face paled and her mouth worked silently for a beat before she mumbled, “I-I didn’t realize…”

“We haven’t said anything, so you wouldn’t have known,” James said. “But it’s been hard on both of us, as you can tell from her reaction to your oh-so helpful comment. So bugger off with the advice, yeah? Now, excuse me for a mo’.”

James walked up to Rose, who still had Ainsley on her hip as they watched carol singers.

“Ainsley, darling, could you go wait with Gran? I want a quick word with Mummy.”

“But Daddy, the carolers!” she whined.

“Don’t they have such lovely voices?”

James turned and saw Jackie had walked up to them.

“You can stay here and watch,” James said as Rose lowered Ainsley to the ground. “We’ll be back in two ticks.” He looked around and spotted a cafe. “We’re gonna get something hot to drink. Stay with Gran.”

He wrapped his hand around Rose’s and gently tugged her into the cafe.

“All right?” he asked softly as they joined the queue.

“No,” she said shortly. “What business is it of hers anyway, about our family planning?”

“It’s not,” he soothed. “I’ve just told her off.”

“Good,” Rose grumbled. “Though she’ll be unbearable now, trying to give us advice and sympathies and God knows whatever else. And she wonders why I don’t tell her things.”

“I know,” James said gently. “I’m sorry.”

“I hate feeling like this, James,” she mumbled, resting her head against his shoulder.

“I know. So do I,” he admitted. “It’s like I’m failing you, somehow.”

“What?” Rose asked, scrunching her nose. “How are you failing? My stupid body’s the one that won’t get pregnant.”

“No, my stupid sperm aren’t doing their job to fertilize your egg,” he argued.

“Well, maybe my stupid egg isn’t accepting any of your sperm,” Rose said, a hint of a smile crossing her face.

James beamed and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “There we have it, then. Your egg and my sperm are both being idiots. It’s definitely not us.”

Rose laughed and wrapped her arm around his waist. “I love you, James.”

“As I love you.” They reached the front register, and he placed his order of two peppermint mochas, a hot chocolate, and a hot tea. As they waited for their order, he asked, “Want to go out for supper next weekend? Just the two of us? We can ask Dad or Jackie to babysit and take a night to pamper ourselves. It’s been a while since we’ve had a date night.”

“In three weeks, we’ll be away together in Bora Bora,” Rose reminded.

“Oh. Yeah. Okay,” he said, feeling a little disappointed.

Rose must’ve seen it, because she wrapped her arm around his and drawled, “Buuuuut I suppose a day of pre-vacation pampering couldn’t hurt.”

“If you really don’t want to, we don’t have to,” he said, not wanting her to feel guilted into anything.

“I love date nights with you,” Rose said. “You know that. I just don’t want Ainsley and Sianin to think we keep abandoning them on the weekends.”

“We haven’t,” James argued. “It’s been… ooh, let’s see… My birthday weekend was the last time you and I went away together for a weekend.”

“Has it really been that long?” Rose asked curiously.

Their drinks were ready, and so they stepped up to the counter and took their beverages.

“Yep,” he said, popping the ‘p’.

“Well, then, I think a date night is in order,” Rose said, bumping her hip against his.

James beamed and leaned down to press a quick kiss to her lips before moving out of the way of the next customer.

They joined Jackie, Ainsley, and Sianin, who were still listening to the carolers, and distributed the drinks.

They had a pleasant enough afternoon, but James could still see the tension between Rose and her mum.

However, the hard set of her shoulders didn’t loosen even after they bade Jackie goodbye and went home. He made a mental note to ask her if something else was bothering her later that night when the girls went to bed.

But instead, she brought it up first.

“Do you think something’s wrong?” Rose mused as she brushed her teeth. “With us?”

“Us?” James furrowed his brows. “What do you mean something’s wrong with us? We’re great, aren’t we?”

“I meant our bodies,” she clarified. “Like something might be wrong so we’re not getting pregnant.”

“Rose, I thought we went over that this afternoon,” he said.

She rolled her eyes. “No, we made a joke about it to make ourselves feel better in the moment. But Mum’s comment really emphasized how long it’s been that we’ve been trying.”

“It hasn’t been all that long,” James argued.

“It’s been a year and a half, James,” Rose sighed.

“Exactly. That’s hardly any time at all!”

Rose glared at him through the mirror as she rinsed her mouth of toothpaste. James let his shoulders slump as he stopped trying to inflect a bit of cheer and optimism into the situation.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, stepping up behind his wife to wrap his arms around her waist. He nuzzled his face into her neck and murmured, “We’ll keep trying. We’re bound to get lucky again.”

“What if we don’t?” Rose asked, leaning back against his chest.

“Then… we can discuss that when the time comes,” he answered. “But don’t give up so easily, love. There’s still plenty of time. We just need to stop worrying so much about it. Stress makes it more difficult for couples to conceive, you know, what with the out-of-balance hormones and…”

Rose couldn’t help but smile as James slipped into “professor mode”, as she liked to call it, and he once more started to explain studies he’d read that correlated stress and fertility. She knew that talking about whatever was bothering him and making it factual and concrete helped James to process stresses in his life. Despite having heard this particular lecture at least half a dozen times, Rose tilted her head back to rest against his chest and closed her eyes and let him talk.

When he’d stopped speaking, she let him have his turn at the sink and climbed into bed. After checking to make sure her alarm was set, she switched her phone to ‘do not disturb’ mode and waited for her husband to join her.

She listened to him brush his teeth and gargle mouthwash before he stepped into the loo to use the toilet. After washing his hands, he splashed a bit of water on his face and finally flicked the lights off.

The mattress dipped beside her as he crawled in, and she immediately snuggled into his side. She was silent for a few moments before she broached the subject she really wanted them to discuss.

“Hey, James?”

He must have caught onto the serious note in her voice, because he inhaled deeply and twisted under her. Having been displaced from his chest, Rose rolled off of him and settled onto her side as he shifted until he mirrored her position.

When his attention was back on her, she said, “I was thinking that maybe we should go in for fertility testing.”

She bit her lip as she scanned his face, wondering what he was thinking, but his face remained blank of any emotion.

“Do you think that’s really necessary?” he asked slowly. “We’ve already got two kids. We’re obviously fertile.”

Rose shrugged. “What if something’s changed? Don’t you at least want to make sure that we’re both all right?” James was still silent though, and Rose reached out into the space between them for his hand. His fingers twined loosely through hers. “Please, James? It would mean a lot to me if we got tested, just as a precaution. I’m sure everything’s fine, but if it’s not, I want to know sooner rather than later so we can work out what to do next.”

James squeezed her hand and exhaled softly. “Yeah, you’re right. I guess I just liked the idea that everything’s fine and we’ll get pregnant soon enough. Or maybe I’m scared that I’ll be told something is wrong. But you’re right. It’d be stupid of us to not double check. I’ll call for an appointment in the morning.”

Rose smiled at him and leaned over to press her lips to his. “Thank you. I’ll get my own appointment, too. Night, James. I love you.”

“Nighty night. Love you, too.”

True to his word, James looked around online for a fertility clinic, and found that the place he and Rose went for general checkups had a department that would suit their needs. He forwarded the details to Rose, then called the office for an appointment.

That was how the following weekend found James sitting in a waiting room with a few other blokes, trying not to feel self-conscious. All of these men were older than him, or at least they looked older, and James couldn’t help the feelings of inadequacy and the fear that maybe his body was giving out on him earlier than it should.

To give himself something to do, he grabbed a nearby pamphlet and began scanning through the information on erectile dysfunction—something he thankfully never had an issue with—and on potential fertility issues.

He was mollified slightly as he read about possible causes of male infertility; none of them were applicable to him. He then scanned the last paragraph on ways he could make sure to keep himself and thus his sperm healthy. They all seemed like common sense to him—eat well, get regular exercise, don’t smoke/drink/take recreational drugs, etc.—but he supposed not everyone had the gift of common sense.

“James?”

He looked up and saw a nurse scanning the room. They made eye contact, and she smiled warmly as he stood from his seat.

“If you could follow me, please,” the nurse said.

She took him down a little corridor and checked his height, weight, and blood pressure, all of which she deemed “excellent”. Then came the part James was dreading most.

“You’ll be in this room right here,” she said, guiding him into a room at the end of the hallway. It at least seemed more secluded than other rooms. How awkward would it be to be overheard? The nurse handed him a small plastic cup and said, “Please stick this in the incubator”—she pointed to what looked like a mini-fridge that sat on the counter—“once you’re done.”

James’s ears burned as she turned on her heel and walked out of the room, closing the door firmly behind her. He grimly realized the door had no locking mechanism, merely a toggle switch that claimed the room to be ‘occupied’. Exhaling a shaky breath, he glanced around the sterile-smelling room as he drummed his fingers against his collection vial.

A lone, cushy chair sat in the corner beside a table full of magazines with scantily-clad women, and across from a television. He wrinkled his nose at the chair—who knew how many men had sat there and… you know… The thought sent a shudder up his spine.

He picked up a magazine and flipped through it, but he set it down just as quickly. The women in the magazine were pretty enough, he supposed, but they did nothing for him. But he needed them to do something for him. He and Rose were counting on him to give a sample to make sure everything was all right with his sperm.

But he just couldn’t. He’d flipped through three magazines and looked at many photos of women in various stages of undress and doing what James supposed were sexy acts to themselves or others.

Yet he remained resolutely uninterested.

He tried to ignore the ticking clock, and he desperately hoped he wasn’t being timed. How humiliating would it be to get interrupted during this?

At least ten minutes had passed since he had shut himself in this little room to have a wank, but he was as far from having a wank as he could be.

Well, maybe he should just wing it…

James unzipped his trousers and tugged them down around his thighs before he worked his pants down only as far as necessary. He gently wrapped his hand around his completely flaccid penis and started playing with himself.

But after a couple minutes of trying to force himself to get an erection, he was still frustratingly limp.

Annoyed and more than a little embarrassed, he grabbed his mobile and dialed Rose.

“So how’d it go?” she asked.

“It hasn’t yet. Did you know that having a wank on command is much harder than it sounds?” he answered, and he rolled his eyes when Rose giggled.

“Oh dear,” she said.

“Yeah,” he said flatly. “These magazines are utter rubbish and frankly disgusting. Who the hell gets horny from this?”

“Most men, probably,” she said cheekily, and James could see the way her tongue was probably poking out from between her teeth.

“I’m not most men,” he grumbled.

“No, you’re not,” Rose said, her voice pitched low. “You’re my handsome, sexy man.”

“Er, what-what are you doing?” he squeaked.

“Well, you said you were having a bit of performance anxiety,” she replied, and he heard some rustling on the other line. “Right, let’s do this. Close your eyes, James.”

“No, this is silly,” he said, feeling even more humiliated.

“Please?” she asked. “Let me try to help. Close your eyes, please.”

He sighed, and nodded, then closed his eyes and listened to Rose.

“If I were there with you, I’d start by kissing you,” she whispered breathily. “That bottom lip of yours is so tempting, just begging to be bit and licked and played with. But I wouldn’t linger. Gotta keep you on your toes. I’d move to your neck. To the place I can feel your pulse the strongest. And I’d nibble on your skin and taste you. You taste so good, James.”

He hummed as his mind provided him the perfect montage of memories to give sensation to the words she was saying.

“My hands would be everywhere,” she continued. “They’d probably start in your hair. I love your hair. It’s so soft, but so strong. When you go down on me, that’s my favorite place for my hands to be, you know. I love pulling you closer by your hair and scraping my nails against your scalp. You seem to like it too. You always make that little noise that’s a cross between a sigh and a groan, and it always makes me wetter for you, James.”

He whimpered out a breath as his belly swooped with heat. He dropped the hand not holding the phone to his cock; he wasn’t completely hard yet, but Rose had him well on his way.

“After your hair, I’d touch your chest. It’s so strong and broad and perfect. I love being able to feel your heartbeat against my palms. It beats faster the longer I touch you.” In response, James’s heart began pounding more quickly, and he couldn’t help but smile. Rose knew him and his body so well, and he absolutely loved it. “And I know how much you want me to touch your nipples, but I won’t. Not yet.”

“Tease.” He fumbled with his phone for a minute before he put it on speaker and set it on the table next to the magazines to free up his hands.

“You love it,” she said. “That makes it so much better.”

“Yeah.”

“I’d scrape my fingers through your chest hair next,” she said, and James copied her narrative. “And you’d be arching your chest, and I’d finally relent and circle my fingernails around your nipples.”

He groaned as he played with his nipples, sending sparks of pleasure low in his belly.

“I love how sensitive they are,” she breathed through the phone.

“Me too,” he sighed, stroking his cock, which was finally hard enough to get the job done. “I like how you touch me better, though.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. I like how I never know what you’re gonna do next. Been together for twelve and a half years now, and still you manage to surprise me.”

“Well, I aim to please,” Rose said brightly. “But enough about me, this is about you. How you doing?”

“Good,” he said. “Keep talking, please.”

“Right, so I think I’ve spent enough time at your nipples,” she replied. “Though I’d probably still play with them even after taking your cock in my hand. I’ve always loved how you feel in my hand, James. So hot and hard, but still soft.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“No, in a good way,” she said quickly. “Your cock is just perfect. I love playing with it, stroking it agonizingly slowly until you beg me to speed it up. I love taking it in my mouth as deep as I can, and sucking you gently at first, then harder the longer I go. You make the best noises when I go down on you, you know. And you taste so good. It’s so much fun to tease you while you’re in my mouth, too. I love taking my time, and driving you mad with my tongue. Soft little flicks that make you gasp every time, then longer sucks until you can barely speak anymore. I love making you come with just my mouth.”

James could barely get out a reply, as he was too busy replaying all of the times Rose had given him a blow job. God, she was good at it. He loved being inside of her, make no mistake, but there was nothing quite like having her lips and tongue around his cock, giving him the most perfect suction he’d ever felt, driving him to madness.

“Ahh, shit,” he gasped, feeling that aching tingle starting low in his balls.

“Remember to hit the specimen cup,” Rose reminded quickly.

He fumbled for the cup and positioned it at the head of his cock as his hand jerked up and down his erection in short, quick movements.

“Come for me, James,” she whispered huskily. “Let me have it, love. Come on.”

“Oh, fffffuck,” he groaned, his head tilting back as pleasure burst through his body. But he quickly forced his eyes open to make sure his semen was actually going into the cup.

Thank God.

His cock pulsed in his hand and he hummed out a sated sigh as he gave it a few more lazy strokes.

“Well done, you!”

James giggled at the pride in her voice, and he set his specimen cup on a table as he worked his pants and trousers back up.

“Thank you,” he said earnestly. “If it weren’t for you, I’d still be in here chafing myself raw trying to get an erection.”

“I’ll always be here to suit your carnal needs.”

James laughed again. “Right, I’ll see you in a little bit. Love you.”

“Love you, too,” she said, before she ended the call.

Once his trousers were zipped and buttoned, he stepped over to the incubator and set his sample into the 37C chamber. They’d told him his results would be ready in a few days, and in his current sated state, James was positive they would come back all clear. With that uplifting thought, James donned his coat and walked out into the weak December sunshine.

<-- Ch3 | Ch5 -->

[angstbotfic]

Revised: Her One True Love’s a Sailing Ship Ch11

Read at AO3

“What?!” Regina spat, looking at Emma, and Neal, and back at Red again.

“Didn’t you ever wonder how Snow defeated you?” Red taunted.

“The Imp did it for her, obviously. Though,” she admitted, “I don’t know what she had to offer in trade.”

“The condition was Emma’s first born.”  

They all gasped, and Regina turned immediately to Emma, but Neal was the first one to speak.

“My son?”

“Not your son,” Emma snapped. “I carried him for 9 months. I did all the work and suffered all the pain.”

“Okay, you’re right,” Neal said, holding up his hands, and Regina appreciated that he conceded the point immediately. “But I still want to help, to rescue him from this- Imp- person.”

“Rumpelstiltskin,” Regina explained, since that’s who he would likely have heard of.

“What?! My- my father?” Neal jumped to his feet and started pacing.

“Your father?!” Regina demanded, on her feet now too. The man who had corrupted and then betrayed her was the father of one of her most trusted crew members?

“Yes. God. What- I-” Neal sputtered. “I’ve been hiding from him for- well- ever since I came back to this realm- I don’t know,” he gestured irritably, “ten years before joining up with your crew or so. Whatever, it’s why I changed my name.” He turned back to Red. “And now you’re telling me he has my son? Or-” he corrected, “Emma’s son that I fathered?”

“Wait,” Emma broke in. “Let me get this straight. My son was the price for my mother to defeat Regina, before I was even born, let alone him, and the person he was traded to is his- grandfather?”

“The family dimensions are news to me,” Red said. “But yes, the price of the magic was your first born, and so once you had one he was forfeit. But you’ve come back for him, and if you rescue him-” she trailed off.

“The deal would be broken,” Regina finished.

Red nodded. “And then Snow could be defeated. And all magical people could live freely again.”

Emma wheeled on Regina. “Wait a minute. You said the other day that my mother must have had to give up my first born. Did you know?”

“No-” Regina said, horrified, having completely forgotten she said it until just now. “No-no. Absolutely not. Taking firstborns as payment is just something I had heard about him doing. Please believe me,” she added, suddenly afraid of what this would mean for their budding relationship.

“I do,” Emma murmured, stepping close. Her hand twitched like she didn’t quite know if she could touch Regina, and Regina reached out and squeezed her shoulder. Emma nodded.

“So how do we rescue him?” Neal asked.

They turned to him, surprised. “You said you’ve been hiding from The Dark One for decades,” Regina said.

“I’ve been avoiding him for centuries, actually,” he said ruefully.

“You look great for your age,” Marian put in teasingly.

He snorted. “You know time flows differently between realms.” Then he went on, more serious. “Nothing could induce me to go near my father. Except my son.” He looked at Emma, his eyes almost pleading for her not to deny this now.

Emma nodded, and turned back to Red. “So where is he?”

“I don’t know.”

**

“Emma, talk to me,” Regina said quietly. They could only spare a few moments from setting up camp, but the princess had been pensive ever since their conversation with Red, riding silently through the twilight until Regina had called a halt just before it became too dark to see, and she didn’t want to leave her to her thoughts any longer.

But Emma didn’t answer, instead continuing to clear the ground of rocks and sticks so that they could pitch the tent. It had become her nightly task, but the single-minded focus was new.

“Em?” Regina asked again, cursing the little quaver in her voice. “I’m sorry,” she added.

That startled Emma into looking at her for the first time. “Why are you sorry?”

“I wanted revenge on your mother, and you paid the price,” she said simply.

Emma laughed humorlessly. “Or maybe my mother is legitimately evil and we both paid the price.”

“It’s fair to be upset,” Regina coaxed. She needed to get her out of this numbness. “You’ve had a lot of unpleasant surprises lately.”

“It’s not that surprising, sadly. I knew my mother controlled my life. I just thought it only meant she would marry me off eventually, no matter what I did or didn’t want. And I didn’t know she dealt in children, but it seems just like her now that I know about it.” She looked at Regina again, actually seeing her this time. “And now that I know who Neal is related to, it all ties together. I think we were all meant to meet and go confront this mysterious Rumplestiltskin person.”

Time for another revelation. She had hoped to be able to put it off so that it wasn’t so much at once. “Not so mysterious to me. He was my mentor.”

“He was?”

“Yes. Rumpelstiltskin was the one who first taught me magic—which I set out to learn to get revenge on your mother. That’s a piece of this story that I still can’t make sense of. Why stop me after making it possible for me to cast the curse?” She sighed. “I suspect we’ll find out soon enough.”

“In that case, I think we were definitely all meant to meet.”

“Maybe,” Regina allowed, wondering suddenly if Emma felt like what had happened between them wasn’t her choice any more than the rest of it. The idea hurt more than she wanted to admit.

“If I have to go on some wild quest, at least I have you,” Emma said, and her smile felt, in that moment, like a profound gift.

**

Emma stared at her in disbelief. “A dragon.”

Regina nodded.

“When were you planning to mention that this old friend we’re going to see is a dragon?” Emma looked across the campfire at Marian and Neal, clearly realizing they had both known.

“Maybe I should have said something earlier,” she conceded. It wasn’t as if she had been hiding it while they had been traveling for the past few days. They were nearly back to the port now, so there had certainly been plenty of time. It just seemed so routine to all of them to be seeking aid from supernatural creatures that it hadn’t crossed her mind to bring it up. “But it wouldn’t change the fact that she’s the only choice.”

Emma’s brow furrowed. “My son is being held by an incredibly powerful magical being, and you want to go see-”

“Another incredibly powerful magical being,” she broke in before the princess could work herself up. She really should have realized that with Snow’s magic paranoia this would bother Emma. “She’s the only one I know who might know where The Dark One would be keeping your son.”

“I just- You’re friends with a dragon?” Emma was clearly still skeptical.

Marian snorted. “Very good friends.”

Regina sighed. This really wasn’t the time to get into that, but now she had to. “She’s the one I told you about.”

“Your lover was a dragon?”

“She also takes human form,” Regina felt like she needed to explain.

Emma’s brow furrowed, but she nodded, then asked, “And you think she would help?”

“I can’t imagine she would be thrilled with what your mother has been doing. And,” she gave a small smile, “she does have a soft spot for me. Answering questions is not much to ask.”

**

“It’s okay,” Regina murmured, pressing close to Emma’s side. She seemed like she was about to jump out of her skin as they passed through the entryway of the castle.

“We’re walking into a dragon’s lair!” the princess hissed back.

“Well yes,” she conceded, “but she’s also my friend. It will be fine.”

Then came a booming voice, seemingly from the very air around them. “You always were a bold one, Regina.” Regina gave a little amused snort. If she was bold, Mal had a penchant for the dramatic. “I still remember you walking in here when you were just a baby queen,” the voice went on. “Like you were going apple-picking rather than taking your life in your hands by poking a dragon. And now you still act like you have every right to walk on in to my castle when you haven’t bothered to call in thirty years.”

“Twenty-five,” she protested, carefully keeping her tone light.

Maleficent chuckled and materialized before them. “It’s good to see you.” She stepped forward and enfolded Regina in a long, tight hug. When she finally stepped back, she nodded to Marian and Neal, then looked at Emma. “Who is this you’ve brought?”

“This is Princess Emma.”

A little bit of smoke trickled out of Maleficent’s nostrils as she gave an unimpressed snort. “Oh, so you’ve brought me a virgin princess as a peace offering to smooth things over, have you?”

“Uh, no-” Emma said, blushing.

“And actually, that’s why we’re here,” Regina explained.

“Because she’s not a virgin? You know there’s no magic for that. You can fake it, but-”

“Because someone has taken her son,” Regina cut in. “Someone we both know well. I was hoping you might be able to tell us where to find him.”

Maleficent took a step back in surprise. “There’s only one person I know who deals in children, and he is not someone to antagonize.”

“Not antagonize, exactly,” Regina temporized.

“Quick job,” Neal put in. “We get in and out, steal the kid back. He doesn’t even have to know we were there until he notices the boy is gone.”

“The last guy who tried to steal something from the Dark One was flayed alive.”

“Really?” Emma squeaked.

“Yes,” the dragon said with an airy gesture, “some asshole named Robin Hood.”

“Poor guy,” Emma murmured.

“Not really,” Marian muttered darkly. Regina knew the story well. He had been her husband once, but when she miscarried even after he had stolen from the Dark One to save the baby he had blamed her. It had been what drove her to take off on her own—and led her to Regina’s crew.

“Regardless,” Maleficent went on, “while I’m quite a bit harder to flay than a mere human, I suspect Rumpelstiltskin could manage.”

“He doesn’t have to know you were involved,” Regina wheedled. “All we need is for you to tell us where to find him.”

“What’s in it for me?”

“Aside from my undying gratitude?” Regina teased. “How does dethroning Snow White sound?”

**

“Oh Regina, you are in so much trouble,” Maleficent chuckled.

Startled, Regina whipped her head back from watching Emma leave. The princess was off to bed, leaving her to catch up with her old friend in the study.

“What do you mean?” she asked, not quite casually.

Maleficent laughed. “You can’t lie to me, little queen. You are utterly enamored of that girl.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she insisted feebly. She should be used to the dragon’s ways by now, and yet she wasn’t. Perhaps she was just out of practice.

Maleficent cocked her head to the side. “I can’t decide if it’s sadder if you think you can pretend, or if you genuinely believe it. By your own admission you’ve known her only a few weeks, and in that time,  you’ve given up on ransoming her for her weight in gold and now you’re off on a wild wizard chase to find her son.”

“She lost her son because of me.”

“The dreaded captain of the Jolly Roger, Pirate Queen of the High Seas, known in whispers as The Evil Queen, Destroyer of Navies would not take on the guilt of some random crime,” Maleficent teased.

“It’s not a random crime. She paid the price for something I did, Mal. I can’t not help her.” She paused for a moment, thinking about what Emma had said about being destined to go on this adventure together.

“What?” the dragon prodded, not teasing now.

“Don’t laugh, because it’s not romantic twaddle, but I feel like there’s a reason we have been connected for- her entire life, really. At her birth, her son was promised as the price to stop my curse, a price paid to Rumpelstiltskin, who turns out to be the father of the man who would not father that child for nearly twenty years, during which time he became one of my most trusted advisers? It’s all too-” she paused, looking for the word. “Too connected. It has to mean something.”

She expected Maleficent to laugh, despite having asked her not to, but looked up to see her looking at her thoughtfully. “That is quite a lot of coincidence, and with Rumpelstiltskin involved may be no coincidence at all. There was always that story that he was seeking something in all his deals. Some sort of magic even he did not have. I had thought it was the curse he found for you, but when he stopped it at the last moment I decided it had only been a rumor.”

“And now?”

“And now I’m not so sure. Do be careful, little queen. The kinds of magics beyond the power even of Rumpelstiltskin are likely to be dangerous indeed.”

[schtroumpf-a-lunettes]

Chapter 12: The Rise and Fall of Scaredy Smurf

Read this chapter on: ff.net | AO3 | this post

Previous Chapters: Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 | Ch4 | Ch5 | Ch6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 | Ch10 | Ch11

A small chunk of this turned into straight-up meta which I didn’t rly intend on (but if it fits...!). Also this chapter is like, over 3000 words...

In the “past”…

The nightmares were fading. Soon they would be gone.

~

When they fight, they fight over him.

It wasn’t like he wasn’t doing anything wrong. Yet the same few smurfs remained staunchly opposed to him despite the enhanced protection of the village they were able to enjoy, thanks to him.

There was something about having smurfs argue so passionately over your ideas.

Everything he said mattered, and every smurf listened to him whether they supported what he was saying or not. Because he had influence.

In spite of everything, he was still the same Scaredy Smurf, and whenever things tended to get intense between smurfs in the village, he was nowhere to be seen. There’d be arguments over him and his ideas, and he would slink away and hide. Sometimes peeking out tentatively from the shadows, always shaking.

But having a well-established group of supporters was not without its perks, he had to admit.

Perhaps… perhaps he was not entirely still the same Scaredy Smurf. He was getting better. Yes, he still much preferred to stay far away from conflict if he could help it. But if ever faced with one of the smurfs who couldn’t see how much disaster he was helping to steer the village clear from, the presence of his supportive group could give him the strength and resolve he needed to stand firm.

When he was shaking… it wasn’t always out of fear these days.

But above all this, there was one important thing that stood out to Scaredy: his nightmares were finally fading. And for the first time in a long time, he was feeling… relief. He could… relax a little more.

He wasn’t scared of falling asleep anymore, didn’t dread lying down in his bed to close his eyes, wasn’t fearful of what visions were awaiting him.

He had promised the smurfs a safer village, and enemies who would be deterred – and he had delivered.

But they were still feeling lost. They all were, Scaredy no less so. Given everything, all the smurfs that were gone, the village without a leader, how could they not be? Yet somehow, he was the one being projected onto by the others – propelled onto a platform not entirely of his own choosing, and when it came to making decisions…

Scaredy had set out to do one thing only: to prevent his nightmares from becoming a reality, avoid disaster, protect the village from the outside world. And it was a goal that captured the minds and imaginations of most of the village, swept up in it all, Scaredy’s single-minded fixation on it enveloping them too. It gave everyone something else to focus on, an end point to work towards, instead of dwelling… 

His fellow smurfs leaned on him, and Scaredy put much of his ideas into practice. Then they leaned on him some more.

Did he notice the way that they’d been looking at him lately? His supporters, they stacked the pedestal beneath Scaredy’s feet ever higher, and it wobbled precariously, perilously.

And just like the pedestal they beheld, the smurfs at the base propping it up, too, could easily splinter.

Uniting around a common cause is a temporary fix. It alone cannot sustain a stable society.

There were the few smurfs who disagreed with Scaredy’s ways, and they were often unpopular because of it. But this did not mean that everyone rallying behind Scaredy lived in complete harmony.

While still working through loss, grief, trying to function, and emerging from those dark places, it was not possible to always be about smiles and cheer and to keep up standard smurfy, friendly ways. Patience regularly ran short, smurfs sometimes reached to inject more goodness into their attitudes and found none, all their energy having been invested elsewhere, needing more time for it to replenish.

Everyone could see it, could sense the fragility of their very existence and way of life, threatening to disintegrate under the stress, the lack of goodwill continuing to bind them. They needed to all work together more than ever, but under the circumstances it wasn’t so easy. Was there a way to make things better?

Things could be better than this. They used to be better than this.

--

It happened in the middle of a conversation. Scaredy had just given some of his helpers instructions – business as usual.

“Scaredy, you always seem to know what to do, or have an idea… You’re decisive when it really matters.” After delivering this praise, Timber continued on casually. “The others and I have been talking. We think you could make a good leader. You know… of the village.”

“Wh-what! M-m-m-m-me?!” Scaredy was so stunned he could barely get the words out. “N-no, I-I could n-n-n-never…!” There was no way! He was quite happy with staying firmly out of that role, thank-you-very-much. It was hard enough receiving the amount of attention and sometimes scrutiny he currently did – he didn’t want to be pushed even further into the spotlight. Leader? He couldn’t imagine the amount of pressure that would involve – it was unfathomable. Definitely not.

“No need to be modest-“

“No, really, I- no.”

“Oh, come on. You’re already the main smurf who smurfs decisions. And just look at how you’ve been able to organise smurfs so far. You’re practically already the leader.”

“For village defences, sure! But being responsible for everything in the village?” Scaredy shook his head, teeth chattering at the very thought.

“I think you could pick up the role well enough. Have a little faith in yourself – like we do!” Reporter prodded him.

Scaredy didn’t reply, only shook his head vehemently. The smurfs gathered around him stared at him imploringly. Desperately. What was the meaning of this?

Tracker sighed from within the group when still no response was forthcoming, his expression completely serious. “Scaredy, we – need – someone. We need someone. We can’t keep going on like this forever. Living out this limbo – it’s too much. The constant balancing acts… It’s not how things are supposed to be. It’s not how things – were. And you… You’re the one we’ve been looking up to all this time, looking to for instruction. So who better to lead us?”

“Like Timber said earlier, you’re practically already the leader. It would just be making it official. We need someone like you to guide us, to smurf the decisions, to help keep us on track and working together and smurfy…!”

Scaredy grimaced, closing his eyes and trying to ignore the desperation he could hear in Reporter’s voice.

“A-and being an official leader makes it a lot easier to manage those things. The village would run so much smoother, you know?” Reporter finished, calming his voice down somewhat so that it was less high-strung.

“Y-You know that I-“ Scaredy fought hard to keep his eyes dry, his voice strained. “No one could ever compare t-to Papa! Not me! You can’t expect me to-“

Immediately, they realised what Scaredy was saying, and suddenly expressions were very sombre and they were all rushing to reassure him.

“No, no, no, of course not! No, Scaredy, we didn’t mean like that!”

A few moments of many smurfs talking at once, all similar words and reassuring him.

Timber reiterated what they’d meant once the voices of the others died down. “Of course we know that no one could ever be just like Papa Smurf was. We would never ask for, or expect anything like that! I’m really sorry if that’s what it sounded like. Each leader is different and has their own style. We’re saying it would be a lot better for the village if we had a leader, and we think you’re the best smurf for the job. We’re just asking you to be you to lead us.”

Scaredy lapsed into silence, mulling it all over. The best smurf for the job? Somehow he doubted that. And yet, that’s what the smurfs before him were claiming. He didn’t know how he could smurf that level of pressure. But if it would be good for the village… And really, if they needed this…

“Scaredy Smurf, leader of the smurf village… Scaredy Smurf, leader of the smurf village…” he tested out the words softly to himself. They sounded absurd. Maybe the others could all finally start calling him by a different name. Or maybe he could get used to it.

…He was getting ahead of himself.

“I’ll…” he looked away. “I’ll think about it” he said, and the others all beamed.

--

The more Scaredy thought about it, the more it dawned on him what really appeared to be going on.

“We need someone like you to guide us, to smurf the decisions, to help keep us on track and working together and smurfy…!”

It wasn’t about how good of a leader Scaredy could be. They were simply yearning for someone who could step in and just make decisions for them so that they didn’t have to think about or stress over them. Since being left without a well-defined authority figure, decisions and plans needed to be made as a village and it was much more burdensome. With all their suffering and bickering and lack of experience, sometimes hardly anything got done as a result. It was often exhausting and time-consuming and merely amounted to more things to deal with on top of everything else.

Whatever Scaredy said in such situations, his supporters would all usually start agreeing with him until that was what was decided upon, and that’s a key reason why he held such sway in the village. They’ve already been doing it, Scaredy realised. They’ve already been signing off and allowing me to do their thinking for them, to save them the trouble. Now they just wanted to make it more official and all-encompassing. Sometimes Scaredy didn’t have an opinion or anything to contribute on a particular issue and the others needed to hash it out – as the leader he wouldn’t have much choice.

Old habits smurf hard, and they wanted to return to – wanted to stick to what was more familiar to them. In this case, it was having a leader who would take care of mostly everything. It was true that they didn’t expect anyone who could compare to Papa Smurf. They knew that wasn’t possible. But what they did want to fall back on, to cling to for solace and something to help get them through, was a leader to look up to.

Scaredy would become – already was – a symbol. Permission for them to relax and just focus on their own individual lives and tasks. A symbol that would allow them to feel safer.

It just so happened that Scaredy, starting all that time ago, had had strong opinions about protecting the village and how to go about it. He’d been determined and outspoken on the matter, and what smurfs saw was someone decisive and taking action. But it wasn’t really about him specifically, was it? It’s just how things turned out. It could easily be some other smurf in his place right now. They would have just found someone else to latch onto.

Following the proposal that Scaredy become leader, his followers treated him better than ever and showered him with encouragement. He was all smiles to them, politely saying he was still thinking it over. And when he wasn’t there with them, he could see how they watched him and eagerly talked among themselves. It looked like they all really thought he was going to agree and take them up on their offer.

And he supposed he was tempted.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the amount of influence he had, the way everyone would listen to him. And sometimes, he’d gotten too carried away… Times where he smurfed too close to the sun.

But these days he was sleeping so much better, no longer hindered by nightmares, finally free. He enjoyed his current status, and he didn’t want more. He’d be smurfing off more than he could chew.

And there was something a little off about it all. They were deluding themselves if they thought making him their leader would make all their problems go away. But he did recognise what they were saying and that they couldn’t go on like this as a village forever. They didn’t need to make him their leader to fix things, though. There were better ways. Now that he was more well-rested and with a clearer mind, no longer needing to focus so much on fending off enemies now that a formidable reputation had been established for the village, he could start using his influence in different ways to make life within the village better. He didn’t need to be leader to do that. He could work towards solving the other issues that faced them.

Yes, he had made up his mind, he was going to go and let all his followers know his decision right now not to become a leader of any kind. They may be disappointed, but they’d soon learn it was for the best.

A smile lighting up his features, humming the smurf song, he confidently walked out his front door –

- and ran straight into Farmer, Tailor and Harmony. He’d been soaring, truly soaring, but now it was time to plummet.

“Hello, Scaredy” Farmer said coldly. Scaredy was backed into his home, his front door slamming shut. Scaredy instantly started freezing up at the death stares they were all giving him.

“Who do you smurf you are?” Harmony spat.

Scaredy stared back, eyes wide, speechless.

“Who do you smurf you are?!”

“Wh- a-“

“Who the smurf do you think you are?! Think you’re Papa Smurf? Think you’re better than Papa Smurf, huh?”

“Nn-No…!”

“So how does it feel, thinking you’re better than all of us? Above us all? What’s it like?” Tailor murmured.

“I-I don’t- unders-stand-“

Tailor’s voice instantly grew harsher. “Don’t play dumb. We overheard from the others what you’ve been planning. Word is the smurfs are going to have a new leader, hmm? Isn’t that right?”

“We happened to hear about your nasty little scheme! Got everysmurf wrapped around your smurfy little blue finger, don’t you?” Farmer paused and they all continued to glare.

“Didn’t realise you wanted to increase the stranglehold you already have over this village. The control you already have… wasn’t even enough for you without you plotting for a full takeover. I’ve got to say, I’m… surprised. I’ve known you my whole life and, I didn’t think my opinion of you could sink lower than it already has these past few years.” Farmer and Harmony nodded in agreement at Tailor’s words.

“No… no, you’ve – got it – wrong” Scaredy forced out the words, no choice but to lean against his chair for support. His breathing was starting to feel very constricted, being cornered like this.

“Got it wrong?” Harmony stepped closer. “Don’t insult me” he hissed.

“I n-never-“

“Shut up. You’ve been talking nonsense for so many years, now you’re going to listen.”

Scaredy cast his eyes about weakly. Why hadn’t anysmurf taken notice and come to see what was going on? Without his followers by his side to make him feel strong, he could barely stand. He would try calling for help, but frozen in place as he was, he doubted he could make his voice loud enough. “W-Where-“

“…is everyone?” Tailor laughed bitterly. “Always talking so big when you’re not alone. But we’re not stupid. We know you’d just have us hauled off or something if your supporters were here. But the others, including the cult of Scaredy, are off playing smurfball right now.”

Harmony again. “So tell us, when did you decide that you’re better than Papa Smurf? What was it that made you completely abandon your sense of decency and respect, made you think you could just play around at taking his place?”

“I didn’t-“

“How dare you even think you’re anything close to the great smurf he was.”

Farmer spoke up. “Yeah, I’m sure you’d make a great leader, Scaredy” with a great kick, a nearby table went crashing to the ground, its contents scattering everywhere. “How much time would it be before we’d start launching attacks pre-emptively in the name of “defence” and “protection” for the village?”

He stepped closer. “Thanks for being SUCH a role model for Slouchy and Nat, too, by the way! Glad they haven’t smurfed out anything like you so far. But I’m sure you’d want to change that, huh?”

“Please…” Scaredy whimpered, sliding down the back of his chair weakly to the floor.

“Yes, because you’re so merciful” Farmer snarled. He reached out above Scaredy and grabbed hold of the chair, Scaredy flinching at the motion. “Remember when…”

“What the hell did you do?” Dabbler yelled, “What the hell did you do now? He’s just a kid, for smurf’s sake! Scruple, I’m so sorry, I’ll fix you up.”

“… when Scruple got hurt? Remember how much he cried?”

“That was a mistake!” Scaredy said immediately, somehow briefly finding his voice again. “A-a-a-and I’ve already said as much…! He got in the way at the last second, i-it was G-Gargamel that was s-supposed-“

The chair now, toppling over with a heavy thud from behind Scaredy. Scaredy sat, cowering.

“We wonder about that. Wonder how many more mistakes you plan on making. Well, we’re not going to wait around and see.”

He only speaks the language of fear, Farmer thought to himself. It’s the only way to stop him from dragging Smurf Village down even further into darkness.

“We’re not going to risk it. We’re never going to give you the chance to make more “mistakes” again. So I suggest you keep to yourself from now on… or we WILL be back to chat with you again.”

He’s used the same fear that controls him to infect and control others. We’ll use fear to control him, make him stop.

His front door opening, then slamming shut. The only real indication they were gone, as Scaredy’s eyes were shut tight. He curled up there on the ground, the possessions from his table still strewn about the room.

He’d guarded so strongly against outside threats and enemies. He’d been so afraid of just about anyone and anything outside the village… He hadn’t realised he also needed to guard himself against, and fear his fellow smurfs.

[eddiekasp]

Must Be a Better Word- Ch11

Love. There must be A better word. -Adam Gillon My loves @stanleyuriis and @eddiesbadbreak helped me come up with some HCs about Richie and his home life so... its about to get angsty :^) Also on ao3! 

Eddie sat in his bed, his two blankets covering his legs up to his belly button and his back leaning on the headboard. The adjustable lamp that sat on the nightstand on the right side of his bed illuminated a small circle of his white sheets, set to the lowest brightness as he told his mother he would be going to sleep nearly 40 minutes ago already. He felt warm; the room was shadowy and dark save for the small golden ring coming from the side. He was wearing to sleep a shirt that was far too long to be his own-- a shirt Richie had left at his house accidentally four days prior.

On his lap on top of the blanket sat the notebook Eddie had found in Richie’s closet, abandoned and nearly lost forever. Eddie felt like it had to have been more than a coincidence that he asked to clean Richie’s room that day. If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have the notebook. Richie even let him keep it, happy to see how happy it made Eddie. Eddie just felt lucky.

He had read it so many times through now that he was convinced he could recite it. Eddie had gotten pretty good at memorizing lines of text. Richie starred in many roles in school productions (just last month he played Lumiere in Beauty and the Beast; Beverly did costumes and makeup and Eddie came every night of the show. Richie had pressed the flowers Eddie brought him into a book) and it was always Eddie’s job to help him practice his lines. They’d sit on Richie’s floor, Eddie reading the lines monotonously, making Richie laugh, while Richie reenacted the scene in front of him, gesturing extravagantly and pretending to hit himself on the head with a frying pan like in a cartoon (sounds effects included) when he forgot a line.

Now, the lines in front of him would not be able to bring forth any feeling of monotony. A lot of the pages, some about him and others which were Richie’s writing or doodles, made Eddie wanna spin around in his room or jump up and down or something silly like that, but instead he held the back of his hand up to his mouth, concealing the smile that bloomed on his face from himself.

Others, though, really… worried Eddie. He thought about asking Richie about them-- jokes about his mother and her problem with drinking, or how his father knows anything about him or WANTS to, how he feels like his family totally doesn't give a shit about him-- 8 or so pages like these written as rants or masquerading as funny jokes. But he didn’t know if it was his place. Although Richie had given him the book, Eddie wondered if he remembered those entries were written amongst the many pages of lighter fare. Plus, this was years ago… did Richie still feel this way?

He figured he must have, since Richie had Eddie over at all hours of the night and his parents said nothing. Not to mention the fact that Richie almost never brought up his parents, and if he did it was only to Eddie in a very quick and biting comment. And he knew Richie didn’t drink.

But then he began wondering, and this wondering didn’t stop until he did something about it. If Richie feels ignored and not cared about, Eddie had to do something about it. The thought of him ever feeling that way made warm tears prick in the corner of his eyes if he thought about it for too long.

So Eddie pulled the covers off of his bed, duelly reminded of how much he wanted to talk to his boyfriend after getting a small remembrance of his cologne that stuck like old stickers onto the shirt he was wearing. His heart felt warm, how it felt when he hugged Richie, and he tiptoed quietly into the hallway where the phone was.

The floor under him felt cold on his adjusting toes. He cursed (as he had at least 5 times a week) that his mother did not trust him enough to put a phone in his room. He had mastered the art of closing his door lightly as not to alarm his mother of him running away, and thanked fuck that their old curly-wired home phone in the upstairs hallway had retired from use two years ago, forcing her to get a cordless home phone. He’d sneak into the hallway quickly, the pads of his small feet barely hitting the floor beneath him, snatch the phone up and run back to his room.

He would talk to Richie with his window open, leaning out in that direction because that was the most likely way his mother wouldn’t hear him. Now, though, it was past midnight on the first week of March. Eddie already had Richie’s gift wrapped and hidden in his clothing drawer. Eddie loved March, loved how happy Richie got when they’d surprise him with cake and gifts on his birthday, loved how cold it was besides the 4 layers of shirts his mother made him wear, but now he worried he’d catch a cold leaning out the window in nothing but a thin t-shirt and his underwear.

Eddie bounced slightly up and down, convincing himself he was creating some body heat, and hoped that he wouldn’t be waking Richie up from sleeping. It was a school night, and he supposed the conversation could wait until third period when Richie had class and he didn’t and they could sit in the empty auditorium and do whatever. But Eddie felt like he had to talk to him now.

On school nights, Richie was usually doing one of two things: sleeping, as he had been the second he walked into the house and taken his red converse off, or saving sleep for that beautiful three-hour period between 4 and 7 am so he could finish up procrastinated homework and could be found at 12:43 at his window as Eddie was now, maybe smoking a cigarette or maybe just feeling the cool air on his warm cheeks.

Although Eddie hated when Richie didn’t get enough sleep, he’d feel even worse if he would be interrupting him if he’d already passed out. Richie and Eddie talked on the phone late at night at least every other night, but it was almost always planned and usually not this late. It was rare for Eddie to stay up past 11.

He typed the memorized number onto the plastic-y buttons of the handset, the familiar song of the buttons in that exact order echoing in his ears as he put the receiver to them. After two rings, not Richie’s voice but his father's.

“Who’s calling this late?” a deeper voice said, not angry but definitely stern.

“O-oh, hi Mr. Tozier. It’s Eddie… Richie’s friend. I’m sorry for calling so late it’s just-- is Richie asleep?”

“Not sure.” Went pulled the phone away from his face and Eddie heard a vague calling of “Richard! Pick up the phone,” and then a click as he exited the only conversation he had ever had or probably would have with Eddie Kaspbrak.

Eddie heard a breath flow into the speaker of his phone before hearing the familiar, “Hey, Eds!” Eddie could tell he was wide awake, he just noted that his father hadn’t bothered to say it was too late to be talking on the phone. “Why ya calling so late? Did you miss meeeeee?” Richie said gleefully, making kissy noises into the phone.

Eddie felt any stiffness in his back that kept him sitting up straight start to melt as it always did when Richie talked to him. He could just relax.

“Of course not, you nerd. I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“Isn’t that kinda like the same thing?” Eddie could hear Richie’s upturned smile weaving its way into his words through the phone. Eddie could always hear Richie’s smile just as much as he could see it. It made him smile, too.

Eddie laughed at his question. “It might be.”

Richie laughed too. “Well, you know I always mish you when we’re apart, shweetheart.” His Humphrey Bogart impression had gotten a bit better since he was 12; his voice getting deeper helped a bit. “I really did though! In fact, you should come over. I don’t feel like doing homework anyways.”

“Rich, we have school tomorrow,” Eddie sighed into the phone. Honestly, he wish he could have gone over.

“Yeah, but so what? We can sleep in through first period, and you know I can forge a pretty good late pass.”

“If my mom sees that I’m gone on a school night she’ll really think I ran away this time. She’s already flipping out on me that I’m never home anymore.” Eddie contemplated how he felt on what was happening between him and his mother. “I mean, of course it’s probably better for me this way. I feel bad for hurting her though, yknow?”

“I get it, but you know she’s the worst Eddie. Like, honestly you shouldn’t have to feel bad. The only thing you should be worried about in regards to her is making sure she takes her Plan B after I leave in the morning.” Richie whooped into the phone and Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Very funny, dumb ass.”

“But I’m being serious. She treats you like shit and she’s a huge bitch to you. I know I shouldn’t say that about my future mother-in-law, but you of all people should know she’s… kinda the worst, dude. Honestly, I don’t think you’re obligated to treat her well at all. She makes you feel bad, which means she’s a bad person. So don’t feel guilty.”

Eddie felt that same hot redness flush across his skin. “Mother-in-law?” he chimed, passing in a sly comment to cover up his heart beating in his throat. He smiled. “What makes you think I’d marry you, huh?”

“If you said no to a proposal from the Richie Tozier, you’d be the biggest idiot alive.”

“I guess it takes one to know one.”

They laughed at the same time, Richie unabashedly booming through his room while Eddie had to remind himself what time it was and cover his giggles into the palm of his hand. There was a silence, comfortable and warm, broken by a cough coming from Richie.

“Are you smoking out your window right now?” Eddie said, picturing the boy leaning his elbow on the window sill, phone trapped between his ear and shoulder as he flicked ashes onto the grass below his window. A position his brain had memorized.

“You know me so well! Yeah, I… I’m actually on my second pack in the last two days,” Richie said guiltily. He knew Eddie didn’t mind him smoking, (as long as it wasn’t near him; it sometimes made his asthma bad) he just worried it'd hurt Richie's lungs. Eddie knew how much it sucked to have problems breathing. Eddie had actually been doing a decent job on persuading him to try and smoke only 1 cigarette a day and Richie even found himself skipping days altogether when he had been feeling really happy. Eddie wondered what had happened.

“Is… something wrong, Richie?” Eddie furrowed his brows, starting to worry.

“Well, uh.” Richie paused, taking in another breath and clearing his throat. Unknown to Eddie, Richie had put his cigarette out and took the back of that hand to wipe his eyes quickly. He didn’t continue speaking.

“Richie, is it… your parents?” Eddie’s heart sped up, but for the wrong reasons.

Richie nodded his head before remembering Eddie couldn’t see him. “Uh, sorta. Yeah.”

Eddie checked the clock again. Almost 1. Richie had been right, though. Why should Eddie give a shit what his mom thinks?

“Do you think I’d get murdered if I took my bike to your place?” Sonia’s window was overlooking where Eddie’s car was normally parked. She’d see the lights for sure, and wake up in a panic.

“I can come with my car. I'll stay at the stop sign down the street.”

“Okay, I’ll see you soon then. Get here safe.”

“I will... Love you.”

“Love you, too.”