#nothing of mine is beta read oop
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Company
Oops my hand slipped.
This is hot off the keyboard. No beta - we die like gnomes. Just felt like getting this out. As much as Astarion needs a hug and cuddles I imagine getting him to understand or accept the concept would be hard. Which is how we ended up here. Halla is my current PC - she's an actual DnD tabletop character of mine I dumped into the game. She's a lot better with words when she's doing her usual conniving shit. In this case - she's trying to be genuine. Which is new for everyone. They are both bad at this which is why I feel they work. Halla is a half elf bard - whose very meh with elven shit. And this takes place in the front half of Act 2. No spoilers in it just set dressing.
Astarion wasnât sure why heâd assumed the nightmares wouldnât reach him Here. Out in the middle of this godsdamned land covered in shadows. The land was brutal enough heâd thought he would be too tired for Cazador -even a memory of him -to reach. The worm was clearly eating the intelligent part of his brain.
As his mind cleared he found himself sitting up clutching his knees. His racing thoughts started dying down as he made his eyes focus on the campfire in front of him. The glow warding off the darkness of the curse and now his own dreams. A delicate cough attracted his attention from the fire. He found himself meeting a familiar pair of gold eyes. âDarling,â he said quietly with a forced smile. The woman wordlessly sat next to him. Close enough for him to feel her warmth but not touching him. Ever since their talk about their, whatever they were doing, she seemed more careful to not touch him. An odd amount of care that gnawed on him, being treated so delicately. Like he was made of glass. Him. Itâd be funny if it wasnât a relief. âDreams again.â It was a question that wasnât. She gave him a look he was unable to read. Concern? Exasperation? Exhaustion? It was late, and the days had not been kind to anyone. âIt was noth-â he tried to shrug it off with a laugh. A lie. But the bardâs face changed to a more readable expression. Skepticism. He trailed off awkwardly. They had talked about being moreâŠupfront. âIt was Him.â he finally spat out. âCazador.â The name hung in the air - sullying the aura of the campfire. Halla held out her hand. After a moment of hesitation he accepted it and found himself clinging to it like it and soon her whole arm like it was a rock in a raging river. Leaning slightly he found her bony shoulder under his cheek. Pushing himself closer, the woman offered no resistance, just a small hum in response. He breathed the scent of her, warm skin, her blood, her sweat, leather oil and the pine rosin she was always using on her violin. âSorry about the stink, I need to do the washing,â she sighed. âItâs been hard to get the laundry service out here. Turns out they all run the other way when they hear âshadow curse.â He smiled weakly. It was a poor stab at humor, but it was still funnier than his lingering dreams. He briefly wondered about telling her he didnât mind. That the earthy smells were better than the stale old decay and rot of his nightmares. That probably was something best left to himself. âI hope I didn't wake you. Did I?" nightmares were embarrassing. Nightmares where you were so loud you woke others were mortifying.
âNahâ she shook her head, her brown hair glinting gold in the firelight. âItâs my turn to keep watch. I drew the short straw tonight.â she offered with a shrug. The short straw was usually the darkest/latest shift in the night watch rotation. But in this place, there was little difference from the brightest to the darkest parts. Or even a night or day. Exactly how long they had been here was hard to calculate. Days flew by without any indicators but new injuries and horrors. It reminded him of the days in Cazadorâs kennels, hours and weeks swept by like a stranger with no notice or regard. That might have been what brought the nightmares plaguing him tonight. The monotonous misery.
âDo you mind giving me my arm back?â Hallaâs voice cut into his thoughts. Oh. He was dragged back to the here and now, the campfire. Clinging to this woman like he was a child with a security blanket. Fool. He let go of her arm like it was burning. âKarlachâs shiftâs coming up.â she said getting to her feet. Straightening up Astarion nodded and gestured for her to go on.Â
Standing up with a stretch he turned to walk into his tent. Try to salvage the night - get some rest before they marched back into the cursed dark and shadows. If the shadows would leave him alone. He was about to duck into his tent when he heard a familiar voice behind him. âErm.â Turning over his shoulder was Halla. She was probably here to chide him for being scared of nightmares, tell him it was nothing to worry about. âYou uhâŠâ she faltered, âwant to come to my tent?â So thatâs what this was. Heâd assumed she was too tired for this. Shadowlands were hardly known for their, erotic qualities. Maybe this was payment. Get a shoulder to cry on, give some pleasure. Heâd wondered how much of his words she had heard, how much she had meant of him making his own choices. Or how little she cared for sex. He had hoped. But he was a fool. âIf thatâs what you want.â he said trying to hide his exhausted resignation. She bristled, âNot like that.â she replied. âI meant.â her hands wringing, âI mean. Not for that.â She was usually so good at words it would have been amusing to watch her flounder if it werenât his nerves she was playing like a bow string. âWant to sl-â she stopped gnawing on her lower lip before finally she spat out something that it took him a moment to realize was elven true tongue.  The words for a night's rest and meditation. âRest with me?â Her tone and language so formal and stiff it was impossible to sound lewd. âWhat?â he found himself staring at her in bewilderment. âIf that was a proposition you have no right to critique mine.â The woman was of some elven blood so it wasnât a surprise she knew the tongue. She had just never spoken it before. Her face was turning red, a performance heâd never seen her do before. âDo you want to rest with me?â she repeated again in Common her tone quiet. âJust rest. Just sleep. Nothing else. You donât have to, you can say no if you want to. I just thought you could use the company.â Being alone he was used to. Even in a crowded room, or stacked like kindling with his âsiblingsâ in their bunks. But did he want to be? Now? In this endless night and shadow. âI thinkâ he swallowed. âI think I would like that.â He let her take him by the hand, as she led him to her tent. Karlach settling down by the fire, sharpening her axe, glanced up and smiled like she was going to say something but was silenced with a glare from Halla. The tiefling made a gesture like she was locking her mouth and went back to her business. He ducked to get through the door of the bardâs tent. She drew the drape over the entrance as they came in. Theyâd made love under the stars, fucked in his bedroll, but he had never gone into her tent. It had felt wrong to do that while he was toying with her, using her. Even with the new found freedom of the parasite it felt wrong to cross the threshold. Violate what odd trust she had given to him. But now he was being led in. It felt strange to be invited so warmly. Reminded him of all the other times heâd been trusted and shouldnât have been. This was going to end badly. âOne moment.â she said and tapped a lantern. The gray darkness of the tent was illuminated into a warm glow. The floor was a beaten battered carpet stolen in their wanderings. Its original design, now worn and faded, still provided some color and degree of separation from the dirt. A few books and scrolls were scattered about. Her boots and hat were carefully placed next to a stool where her armor rested. Ready at a moment's notice. Removing her sandals - the woman began arranging her bedroll and blankets. âYou can make yourself comfortable.â Glancing around he tried to find a place to sit, but the only spare cushion that wasnât part of her bedroll was providing a resting place for her violin. Touching that would be more of an invasion than entering her tent. Gesturing around the room he looked at her quizzically.Â
âOh donât be so dramatic. You can move that and sit there, if you prefer to meditate sitting upâ she gestured at the musical instrument. âOr you can join me. If you like.â âI thought you said-â âI said sleep. And I mean sleep.â she said with more patience than he felt he deserved. Getting to her feet - she stooped, though less than he had to and gently placed her hands on his face. Lightly. Giving him space to move away if he wanted. He didnât move from her touch. âWe can share a bedroll, blanket, or pillows or whatever you like.â she said gently. She kneeled back down onto the bedroom and started to stretch out, pulling blankets over her. Leaving some for him, he noticed. A sweet gesture even if he didnât need it. Carefully he laid down next to her, not touching her at all. When was the last time heâd shared a bed with someone? He wondered. Just for sleep. Not post cloitally. Surely he must have at some point when he was young. Alive. Those days were a blur to him. A blur of sunshine and comfort that swam away when he tried to focus on it. As Halla began to shift her pillow around he was pulled from his musings by a glint of metal. He reached under her pillow and his hand found a stiletto knife. âI never expected you to be the sort to use blades in the bedroom.â âThatâs not for you.â she said rolling her eyes, taking the blade from him. âOld habit.â With that she tucked it back under her pillow. She wasnât asking him if he cared or was concerned about it. He decided not to press her hospitality any further. An odd mix of naivete and steel. Sweet enough to invite a vampire to lay next to her but savvy enough to keep a knife close. He could respect that. âYou can turn off the lamp if you want.â she murmured her voice half muffled by her pillow. She sounded like she was halfway off to dreaming. He hoped hers were more pleasant than his had been.
The light was better than shadows, real or imagined he decided. Leaving the lamp lit he closed his own eyes and tried to get himself to rest as well. At least for the moment he wasn't alone in the dark.
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How To Piss Off Your Boss
Chef HC AU
A few months ago, by some miracle, Hai Ye successfully earned a position at Crimson Embersâa lavish dining establishment serving an array of traditional dishes from different regions. It has outstanding reviews praising the exquisite interior, seasonally rotating menu, and delicious food.
Itâs been HY's goal since entering culinary school to work in a kitchen with other professionals who have the same visions as him when it comes to cooking. After completing his studies and working in a small restaurant in his hometown for five years, HY finally gets to pursue his dream in the big city.
Crimson Embers opens at 3 p.m. and closes at 10 p.m. Only seven hours of business, and yet, itâs one of the most popular upscale restaurants in the region. Reservations line up months ahead of time; walk-ins are still encouraged too because of how spacious the establishment is. Those seven hours are one of the most stressful shifts HY has had the experience of working in. Heâs very proud of the work he does, as a cook and as a collective whole with the kitchen too.
On a regular Monday, everyone arrives for their shift three hours ahead of opening to prepare the fresh ingredients, sauces, meats, drinks, etc. The sight of the CEO of Crimson Embers, Hua Cheng, cleaning the already spotless counters greets them when they arrive in the kitchens. Apparently, HC has decided to not only visit this particular branch for the week but also take on the head chefâs duties and monitor the workers himself.Â
All the cooks rush to throw on their aprons, tie back their hair, and wash their hands. HY follows his colleagues, blood pounding in his ears as his nerves threaten to get the best of him. Everyone naturally forms a line in front of the longest counter to stand at attention as HC waits expectantly at the front of the kitchen.Â
âEveryone, itâs been a while since my last visit. I see some familiar faces-â HCâs eye flickers down the line, landing on HY, whose posture is as straight as a rod. â-and some new faces. Regardless, I welcome you guys to another day of hard work, teamwork, and top-notch cooking. Every single one of you is here for a reason. This team may be smaller than others, however, you guys are just as capable of serving the best foods in the country and ensuring excellent customer service.â
HC shrugs off his maple-red long coat to reveal a chefâs shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms. HY spots a hint of tattoos peeking underneath the sleeves, intrigued. HC doesnât exactly portray the image of a CEO in the restaurant industry. Heâs relatively young, long hair swept back into a braid, inked up, and with an eyepatch to top the look. HY has nothing but admiration for him.
âLetâs do a great job today. Letâs do our best,â HC says resolutely. He slams his palm down onto the counter with a loud thud! âBegin.â
âUnderstood!â Every cook shouts in unison, then scrambles to their stations to rapidly food prep for the night shift.
The hours leading up to the restaurantâs opening are a bit maddening. Everyone is on their best behavior, zoned in on their work under their CEOâs watchful gaze. As soon as customers start filtering in, the impending shitshow is set to begin. All the employees have arrived, including the servers who zip in and out of the kitchen doors like a hoard of worker bees.Â
HC is very firm and direct with his orders. His voice, though not the loudest, holds the most power, which he wields as an experienced leader to run things smoothly. Unfortunately, when it gets extremely busy during the night, the head server requests HY to leave the kitchen to seat people because the other servers are busy, and HY has almost a decade of serving knowledge under his belt.
When HY walks to the entrance, thereâs a man at the front of the line, dressed in plain black jeans and a white, long-sleeved turtleneck. His long hair is neatly tied back into a low ponytail, black-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. His outfit is simple in style, but he pulls it off exquisitely. HY swallows nervously before asking if the man has a reservation.
âNo, I donât. Though I was hoping I could get a table for two?â The stranger asks with kind eyes. The glasses donât do anything to obscure how vibrant they shine in the bold lighting of the restaurant.Â
âO-of course. Right away, sir,â HY replies. The man in white smiles warmly and HYâs heart skips a beat. He gestures for the stranger to follow him, leading the guest to a quiet corner near the window. Luckily, since itâs only the man and whoever heâs dining with tonight, a small table was readily available.Â
âCan I get you started with anything to drink?â HY politely asks. The handsome man quickly looks over the drinks menu. The strands of hair too short to be contained by the hairband fall to frame the manâs face. He quickly tucks them behind his ear, then points to one of the cheapest options.Â
âI think the Makgeolli will do. Itâs my partnerâs favorite,â the man orders. HY enthusiastically nods.Â
âIâll have that out right away, sir.â
âBy the way, is the owner free? Hua Cheng?â The man inquires. He crosses his legs in an elegant display that shows off their muscles and length, straining against the jeansâ fabric. HY tries not to stare as the manâs glasses slide down his nose a bit, to which he pushes them back up with a flick of his slender fingers.
âHua Cheng is here, yes. But he's very busy,â HY informs apologetically. âIâm not sure he has time at the moment.â
The man tilts his head, looking slightly puzzled. For a brief second, he looks as if heâs analyzing HYâs appearance. After an understanding nod, the man relents his question.
âNo worries. Thank you for seating me,â the man says, maintaining his mellow tone. HY bends at his waist in a half-bow, then heads back into the kitchens. He has to go back to his station to add the finishing seasonings on the meatsânot before informing a server of a guest who requires Makgeolli.
âA full bottle,â HY adds. Just to be generous. No one thinks anything of it.
Ten minutes pass as the kitchen is bustling with bodies moving in all directions and the chopping of knives on cutting boards. That is, until the head server bursts through the doors with an ultra-panicked expression on her face.
âWhy did nobody tell me Xie-xiansheng is here!?â
The chaos in the kitchen comes to a dead stop: mid-slice, mid-fry, mid-mix, mid-squeeze. Everyone stares blankly at the head server, who waves her arms towards the dining area with wild eyes.
âXie-xiansheng is out there right now, sitting ALONE, and just ordered the special meal he and Hua Lao Ban always share,â she frantically rushes out. This snaps several workers out of their shock.Â
âOh shit-â
âXie-xiansheng has been here the entire time and we didnât know-!?â
âSomeone get Hua Lao Ban-â
âNO! Donât get him yet, otherwise heâll skin our asses alive!â
âFuck, put the special at the top of the list- go go GO!â
HYâs mind spins with the casual conversations he overheard about HCâs partner. He doesn't know much besides how many find HCâs husband to be exceptionally kind and beautiful. HY hasnât even had the chance to look at a picture of XL, much less meet him since HY has started working at Crimson Embers.
Wait a damn minute.
Was that man he seatedâŠHCâs husband?
HY feels like throwing up upon realizing he had unknowingly signed his death wish.Â
âWhy the hell is no one working? Do you not see the crowd of guests out there waiting for their food?â An authoritative voice barks, entering from the back of the kitchen, holding up three plates of exquisite, garnished roasted duck. HC walks through the kitchen with his shoulders set back in confidence, his tall height bearing over the other cooks. âEveryone, get back to work! NOW!â
Before anyone can stop him, HC exits through the kitchen doors to the dining lobby, serving the dishes to the guests himself. The employees look at each other with fearful expressions. Their hearts have nearly stopped beating in their chests, HYâs heart skipping a beat for a whole other reason now.Â
They are so screwed.
ăIIă
#tgcf#heaven official's blessing#tian guan ci fu#hualian#hualian au#xie lian#hua cheng#cerdrabbles#TBC#twoshot#OC#not beta read#nothing of mine is beta read oop#typos galore
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HOWDY SOULMATE OF MINE. Can I please have some Jaskilion? I want lingerie and I want make up and I want blindfolds and I will cry if I don't get it. No pressure.
Let's just ignore the fact this is four months later... Oops. Please don't cry! Oh and thanks to @kuripon for beta-ing! This is based in my modern Jaskilion AU but all parts read well on their own as well.
This is Jaskilion smut. Rated E. Pretty much the prompt with added blowjobs.
________
Silence was rare in Jaskier and Dandelionâs flat. They were both musically inclined which led to a cacophony of sound in the house. If they werenât practicing for their fledgling band, then one or the other of them would be humming under their breath or scribbling down some rhyme on whatever paper they could find. So, silence was something that couldnât often be found, and was not really appreciated by either musician. However, the silence in the flat that day was building an unspoken tension between them and Jaskier was loath to break it. It wasnât often that he unpacked his drawing set, but words had escaped him for over a week and he was itching to create something, anything. The portrait had been Dandelionâs idea, and Jaskier loved any excuse to draw his friend.
Dandelion was, for lack of a better word, absolutely stunning. His almost elf-like beauty had lured Jaskier in like a moth to a flame⊠or more accurately a barista to the supply closet. It also made him a perfect subject for Jaskierâs drawing practice.
Especially when he sat so prettily on the chair, his hands tied behind his back and a silk tie wrapped around his head, keeping him blinded. Dandelion was wearing his favourite emerald green silk lingerie, the vibrant colour looking fucking radiant against his pale skin and long golden curls. To top the look off, his lips were painted a rich blood red and he looked absolutely sinful. Jaskier was having a hard time focusing on his drawing, pun intended.
He wanted nothing more than to rip that stupidly pretty silk off of Dandelionâs body but his friend had made him promise that he would finish his sketch first. It was going torturously slowly. Heâd just about blocked out the rough shape but he was losing patience, which just wasnât fair. Even tied to a chair and blindfolded, Dandelion still managed to command the room when he wanted. It was infuriating, and just a little bit sexy.
Jaskier sighed as he set aside his sketchpad, the sound clearly drawing Dandelionâs attention as the blond cocked his head.
âJaskier?â
âIâm here,â he muttered, sighing again as he crossed the room, making sure his steps were audible even on the rug. He didnât want to startle his friend. âIâm going to touch you.â
âHowâs the drawing?â
Jaskier rolled his eyes as he brushed his fingers along Dandelionâs cheek. âLet me worry about that, you just stay sitting there for me, dear heart.â
âWell, I donât appear to have much choice,â Dandelion scoffed haughtily, tugging half-heartedly at the silk ties behind his back. âI am your prisoner.â
Jaskier trailed his fingers down his friendâs neck, tracing the edges of the bra straps, enjoying the feel of the silk against his skin. He was delighted to see Dandelionâs shiver at his touch. He was even more delighted to see Dandelionâs cock straining against the silk panties. Despite his talk, Dandelion was not as unaffected as he liked to appear.
âDonât be so dramatic,â Jaskier chided gently, letting his fingers hook under the silk, brushing against his friendâs nipples. He was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath and Dandelion tilted his head back.
Jaskier bit back any other witty remarks as he removed his hands and as silently as possible, moved away from Dandelion. His friend let out a pitiful whine and just like that the power shifted between them and Jaskier smirked. The rug muffled the sound of his footsteps as he moved behind Dandelion, and the only sound in the room was the thundering of his own heart. It felt so loud in his chest he was sure that Dandelion would be able to hear it. Dandelion blindly looked around the room, cocking his head as he tried to pick up any sound that would give away Jaskierâs position.
âYou better not have left me here,â Dandelion mumbled, sounding offended by the idea of it.
Jaskier barely managed to keep from laughing. Theyâd agreed that he would stay in the room the whole time, and he knew Dandelion trusted him to keep that promise, but Jaskier gently touched his friendâs shoulder. Dandelion yelped and jumped in his seat, letting out a string of profanities and finally Jaskier allowed himself to make a noise.
âOkay?â he asked, grinning despite himself.
âYou bastard,â Dandelion grumbled but still leaned into Jaskierâs touch as Jaskier ran his fingers through his friendâs hair.
âIâll make it up to you,â Jaskier promised and circled Dandelion, never taking his hands off Dandelionâs skin, trailing his fingers down Dandelionâs chest as he knelt in front of him.
He barely remembered to breathe as he looked up at his friend, blindfolded and so helpless above him. The trust they had in each other was unlike anything Jaskier had experienced before. It was a heady feeling, and there was no doubt how deep his friendship with Dandelion was. Anyone that said romance was more important than friendship needed a bollocking, and Jaskier sent up a quick prayer to any gods that might exist, thanking them for both Dandelion, and Geraltâs acceptance of their untraditional friendship.
Jaskier truly had hit the jackpot with the two of them. He smiled as he pressed a kiss to Dandelionâs thigh, nipping gently at the sensitive skin. Above him, Dandelion pulled at the ties and whined again.
âPatience, darling,â Jaskier murmured as he brushed his lips along Dandelionâs thigh before mouthing at the silk panties that barely concealed his friendâs cock. Dandelion scoffed and opened his mouth to shoot back some no doubt biting remark, but Jaskier cut him off. âPerhaps we should have gagged you as well.â
Dandelion just pouted, making Jaskier chuckle as he hooked his fingers under the top of the panties, pulling them down enough to expose Dandelionâs hard cock, already leaking against the soft pretty fabric. The sight made Jaskierâs mouth dry and he licked his lips before pressing a kiss to Dandelionâs stomach, delighting as the muscles rippled under his lips.
âOh fuck,â Dandelion groaned, âbloody tease.â
âHmm, you love it,â Jaskier murmured, reaching up to brush his fingers along Dandelionâs bra.
Dandelion had always been very responsive, but never quite like this. It seemed that every touch had the musician on edge, whimpering, gasping, moaning, and Jaskier was fucking addicted. He wasnât usually one to tease this much, he didnât have the patience for it, but he was just having too much fun. Still, he had promised to make it up to his friend, and he would hate to break his word, so finally he pressed a kiss to Dandelionâs cock, licking at the slit before taking just the tip into his mouth, suckling lightly, just a tease of what was to come. Jaskier felt Dandelionâs cock twitch in his mouth and his friend let out an obscene moan which only spurred Jaskier on more.
He groaned as he pulled off, licking a stripe down the length as his fingers dug into the soft skin of Dandelionâs thighs. He nosed at the base of Dandelionâs cock before kissing along the underside until he reached the tip once more, bobbing his head as he took it back into his mouth, enjoying the weight on his tongue. Dandelionâs whimpers and moans were tantalizing, making his own cock achingly hard in his trousers and he shifted so he could grind down on his feet, desperate for any kind of friction.
âWanna see you,â Dandelion panted, still straining against the silk ties. They would come loose if he really wanted, but it was a pretty sight watching him struggle.
Jaskier hummed around his friendâs cock, slowly working to relax his jaw as he took Dandelion further into his mouth. Reluctantly he released one of his friendâs thighs, stroking his hand up until it was pressing against Dandelionâs balls through the silk fabric. Dandelion gasped and bucked forward as best as he could given his restraints, mumbling an apology as Jaskier almost choked on his cock. Instead, Jaskier moaned as he doubled down on his efforts, rocking his own hips forward as he licked and sucked at his friendâs cock with all the grace of a drunk at their local nightclub, but his own arousal was making it hard to think about skill. Judging by the sounds Dandelion was making, his friend didnât seem to care.
âOh, oh fuck!â Dandelion hissed, gasping for breath. He was close so Jaskier moaned as he made one last effort, humming around his friendâs cock as it nudged the back of his throat, pulling back just enough as Dandelion came, Jaskierâs name falling off his lips in a prayer. Jaskier suckled at Dandelionâs cock, chasing every last drop of cum, until he started to soften in his mouth.
Finally he pulled off, wiping his mouth before pressing one last kiss to Dandelionâs thigh. âFuck,â he sighed, his voice hoarser than he would have liked but he decided it was completely and utterly worth it.
Dandelion let out a peal of laughter and finally managed to wiggle free of the ties behind his back. His hands were in Jaskierâs hair before Jaskier realised his friend was free. He blinked as he looked up. Blue eyes peered down at him, dark and hungry, and his friendâs cheeks were flushed almost as red as his lipstick.
âFuck,â Jaskier repeated and pressed his forehead to Dandelionâs stomach.
Long fingers just carried on stroking through his hair as Dandelion laughed again. âMy turn.â
#the witcher#jaskilion#jaskier x dandelion#jaskier pankratz#dandelion#wolfieâs witcher writing#nsft
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she's mine / ari levinson
werewolf au
authorâs note: fic for @lielullabye 500 challenge, congratulationsđ(this is a repost of my work) dedicated to @sweater-daddiesdumbdork love you amberđ
warnings: angst, mentions of sexual harassment, threats
prompts: slight beauty and the beast au; werewolf!ari x mate!reader
read please: this is an alternate universe with ari levinson, in this fic thereâs no RSDR, no guy thomas, just the man with the same principles and ideals; also, my knowledge on werewolf dynamics is limited, iâm writing this with what i know from what iâve read before
âWhy do you hate her so much?â Sam asked Ari. They were coming back from yet another successful battle against rogues. Those wolves were tormenting packs all around the state and Ari made it his mission to help as many packs as he could. But the rogues were still coming, they were relentless.
âI donât hate her.â He grumbled.
Ari didnât want a mate. Simple as that. He didnât want to deal with caring about someone who had the power to kill him. He was fine with saving packs from being murdered by rogues. That was his mission in life. No getting distracted.
Until she came along. Until he saved her.
Ari wanted to despise her. He needed to hate her.
Why couldnât he just bring himself to reject her?
He had tried so many times. It would be so easy to go up to her, reject her and be free of their so called bond. The human in him didnât want to be cruel. But he couldnât allow himself to care for her, for anybody. That was the animalistic part of him. Because the wolf part of him wanted nothing more than to be her mate.
Still he couldnât do it.
âOkay, then. Let me rephrase.â Sam chuckled, making Ari grit his teeth. âWhy do you dislike her so much?â
âCan we not do this right now? Iâm tired.â
âWe never do this. You are always tired when it comes to her. Funny because sheâs as quiet about you whenever I ask her.â
Ariâs head whipped so fast in Samâs direction. âSo now you are talking to her?â He demanded to know, his Alpha voice coming through. He didnât know why Sam talking to her was making his blood boil.
Samâs laugh boomed. It was so easy riling him up when it came to Y/N. âSo what if I am?â He taunted.
Ari stopped the car, tires screeching on the pavement, making the cars behind struggle to stop as well. He got out of the car and before going to Samâs side, he mind-linked his wolves.
âEverybody get to the house, now!â
The first driver resumed driving and the rest followed. The Alphaâs orders were clear. They wouldnât want to disobey in any way, especially with an angry Alpha.
Ari opened Samâs door and took him out by his shirt. âSheâs a really nice girl, Ari.â Sam continued his teasing. If Ari wasnât so angry, heâd realise what Samâs intentions were. He would also know that Sam meant no harm and would never disrespect Y/N nor his Alpha. âWhy are you so worked up over me and her?â
Ari dropped him and Sam took a deep breath. âLetâs go.â
Back at the pack house, Ari walked in with his mind set on someone. His pack bowed in respect and in other circumstances, he would nod in acknowledgement but he was on a mission. He opened door, making young wolves whimper in fear, something he regretted instantly. He tried calming himself down but the she and Sam would pop into his mind.
At last he found her. The sight in front of him doing something to his heart. Y/N was sitting with a book in her hands, the pages showing cartoon wolves. Around fifteen toddler wolves were sitting in front of her, their attention on the captivating woman telling the story. Her hands moving gracefully and her words smooth as honey.
âFuck.â Ari muttered under his breath. Y/N gasped, letting him know that she had heard and so would the younglings would have if they werenât so captured by the story. Their eyes locked and she looked away first, intimidated by his hard stare. âY/N, a word.â She nodded in acknowledgement and closed the bedtime story.
Simultaneous whines came from the young wolves. âItâs time to sleep. We can finish tomorrow.â She said in a soft voice and Ari cursed in his mind. He stepped aside as the wolves dragged their feet towards their respective rooms. Ari let out a small chuckle at the sight. âHow can I help you?â His head snapped in her direction and instinctively took a step back, something as an Alpha he shouldnât have done. Weakness. Exactly why he didnât want a mate. Especially a beautiful one with a voice like velvet.
Y/N bowed her head and took two steps back when Ari did that. He hasnât officially rejected her yet but she knew it would nearly kill her whenever he did. It was already painful and he had only put some space between them. It was a ticking bomb that he was handing her and she no choice but to accept it.
Ari swallowed hard as he realised what he made her feel but then Samâs words sounded in his mind again. âWhy have you been talking to Sam?â No, he wasnât beating around the bush. He needed to know with urgency what was going between his Beta and his very own mate.
âWhat do you mean?â Y/N sounded genuinely confused.
Ari groaned. âDonât play dumb, Y/N. He told me you two have been talking and I want to know why.â He didnât realise he had walked into her personal space until there was nothing else he could smell but her. And it was maddening.
âAlpha,â Y/N whispered, feeling her heart beating worryingly fast and her wolf clawing for a way out, ready to be with her mate.
The way his title sounded coming out of her lips pushed him to the edge. In a swift movement, he carefully pushed her against the wall and kissed her. His lips were devouring her and she tried her best to keep up with him. As an Alpha, she knew he had the upper hand when it came to dominating her. And she loved it. The way his hands were firmly but gently cupping her cheeks until they needed air. Then one of his hands left to cup the back of her neck and the other to wrap around her waist. His hot breath fanned from his cheek, her jaw to her neck and shoulder as he placed open-mouthed kisses all over every inch of skin. She could do nothing but run her hands through his long hair, the feel of his silky strands were driving her crazy. And she gripped them tight when she felt his canines rubbing the place where her neck met her shoulder, what would be her marking spot.
As soon as Ari felt her tensing, he came to his senses and pulled away. His eyes locked with hers and his heart hurt when he saw the fresh tears gathering.
Y/N pushed herself off the wall and walked past Ari.
âDonât take another step, Y/N.â He didnât know what to tell her though, he didnât know if he could succumb to her. She stopped, she couldnât disobey direct orders from the Alpha, from her Alpha, her mate.
Ari saw her lips trembling but he couldnât bring himself to move and get her in his arms. And he didnât try stopping her when she moved. He just saw how she walked away from him, hurting him in the process.
Y/N ran out of the pack house all the way to the river a couple of miles into the woods. She knew he wasnât following her but her body could still feel him. Then she yanked her clothes off and shifted, hoping that running would make him disappear from her thoughts. She needed to brace herself, harden her heart for when the time came that he would reject her. Because he had said so. Just waiting for the right time.
/
Ariâs wolf was going crazy. There was too much distance between him and his mate. The only thing that Ari staying put was knowing she was still in his territory. The patrolling wolves of that night let him know that she was safe. And as much as he hated it, Sam offering to keep her company kept his mind at peace.
He knew his resolution was crumbling but there was so much at stake for him. A few minutes with her had him losing focus. Nothing else existed but them. How was he supposed to care for an entire pack when he lost himself in her.
âAlpha Levinson.â
Ari looked up to the door and his blood boiled. Gabe Ashton was the type of wolf that shouldnât be an Alpha. Ruthless, merciless and cocky. Had been tormenting wolves for years but without proof there was nothing much Ari could do to stop him. It didnât help that he had an army of trained and loyal killers that somehow helped rogues destroy entire packs.
âWhat the fuck are you doing here?â Ari stood up and tried moving forward when Gabe presented a gun and pointed at him.
Gabe tsked. âBe smart, Ari. I came in peace, I promise.â His smile was taunting.
âWhat do you want?â Ari gritted through his teeth.
âI have a proposition for you and you will accept it.â Gabe grinned maniacally. âIâve been planning for months. You have a nice pack. Strong wolves. Pretty she-wolves. You have pretty much everything. Last I heard you were only missing a mate to have the perfect packâŠâ
âSam, get Y/N back to the house. Now!â
âIâve been planning your destruction and today, something made me realise that I didnât have to plan so much. I donât even have to do much. You have a weakness but then again, you are not even that strong. Ari Levinson, the mighty Alpha, but are you really?â
âWhat do you want, Gabe?â Ari repeated, his hands fisted and his face red. Nobody threatened him or what was his.
âHowâs that pretty new wolf of yours, your mate? You know, I saw her shift earlier. Got the whole show for myself. Itâs funny. I didnât catch any scent that would indicate sheâs been claimed, she was reeking of you but no mark on her soft neckâŠâ Gabe taunted, waving his hand in front of Ari. âSince you donât seem to care about her, what about I mate her? I wonder how she would look under me as I make her mine-â
Ari lost it. He grabbed Gabe by his shirt and slammed him against the wall. Gun going off before dropping to the floor.
âOne more word out of you and Iâll fucking end you.â He threatened. âSheâs my mate, you hear me. Mine!â
Sam burst into the room. âAri, Y/N⊠sheâs gone.â Samâs voice was frantic.
Gabe chuckled and Ari growled.
âOops, too late I guess.â
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I made this moodboard yesterday about my steambaby,Azusa! I mentioned that she's more close to Zuko and loves spending time with him because she's a daddy's girl! đđ»đđ»đđ» âą When Zuko isn't too busy, he'll take the kids out or have a one on one day with them. With Azusa; Zuko knows how much she loves painting and will take her to galleries or art museums. They will go to the theater since they both love plays. Sometimes they'll go backstage afterwards to talk to the cast and Azusa will ask the director for screenwriting advice. âą Azusa's favorite dessert is lemon cake with yellow rose frosting and a cup of chamomile tea. Sometimes Zuko would bring her a slice of cake with the plate warmed by his bending(she loves it when the cake is warmed) and said cup of tea. âą She mostly calls Zuko,'Daddy'. She'll only call him 'Dad' or even 'Father' if she's mad at him.
âą On her 9th birthday: Azusa gasped when she unwrapped Zukoâs present.
He remembered that monarch butterflies are her favorite and brought her a glass display of them to hang on her bedroom wall. Azusa squealed,"Oh. My.Spirits! Thank you,Daddy! It's beautiful!" Zuko smiled at her, "You're welcome ,sweetheart." She carefully put the present aside to hug him tightly. âą Zuko loves gardening so Azusa gave him a yellow apron that says,'Love Grows Here' with blue hydrangeas around it. âą When she was 5 or 6, she was helping Zuko water his plants when she told him, "Sunflowers are really pretty! It would make your garden even prettier,Daddy!" "You think so, Azu?" "Yeah! They're my favorite!" The next day he got new seeds and was planting them when she asked,"Ooooh! What kind are they?" "Oh,nothing special. Just corn." Azusa frowned."Corn?" "Yes." "Why corn?" "Why not? Corn is good." "I guess so...!" She shrugged,pouring water on them from her little watering can. Weeks later as the flower began to grow and the bud slowly opened, he took Azusa outside to water it. âHey,wait a minute...", Azusa rubbed her chin as she stared at the buds. She gasped at the realization. âThose aren't corn! It's sunflowers!"She exclaimed,tugging on his pants legs and pointing at the flowers. Zuko smiled widely at her excitement. "Do you like them, Azu?"
Her eyes widened at her with her mouth agape. "Like it...? Like it?I don't like it...I love it!" She said then squealed. "Oh my Spirits! Thank you,Daddy! I love them so much and they're so pretty and the best and-and-!" Azusa put the back of her hand on her forehead. "This is too surprising to bare...!" She pretended to faint and Zuko caught her. "You're very welcome, Honey."He chuckled. When the flowers fully bloomed she loved going outside to sit and look at them.
âą Whenever Zuko gave her a gift, lil Azusa would make a drawing for him as an extra thank you.
âą Zuko was on the floor with Azusa while she painted his nails pink. "Daddy ,you should wear more colors than red and gold." "But I love red and gold. Theyâre the Fire Nationâs colors." "But you need to explore more color options! That's why I wear yellow. It's my favorite color and pretty!" "I know. You're very pretty,Sweetheart." Azusa beamed. "Thanks,Daddy!" Zuko smiled softly at her."You're welcome,Honey." "Anyways,Daddy,I just haaaave to tell you about what Grandpa Iroh and Mom were talking about! We were at Grandpa's Iroh house and he and Mom were talking. They didn't think I was listening but I was." Zuko quirked his eyebrow, "Oh really?" "Yeah! But don't tell them!" "Okay...what did they say?" "I was playing tea party with my dolls and they were talking about someone that was in his tea shop earlier. Mom said: 'That guy was kind of a jerk.' Then Grandpa said:'Oh,Shufen? He runs the second most popular tea shop in Ba Sing Se.
He likes to come in my shop and compare his to mine just to brag about his. He's always such a asshole-!' " "Azusa! You don't have to repeat the curse words." He scolded lightly. Azusa grimaced,"Oops! Sorry!" "It's alright,Azu. Just remember next time,okay?" Azusa smiled at him."Okay!"She assured while nodding.
"So...what else did they say?" "Oh my Spirits,Daddy. There was soooo much drama!" Zuko simply smiled as his daughter gossip about what his Uncle and wife said about Shufen.
đđ»đđ»đđ»
Thank you @a-hams-art for beta reading this!đ„°â€â€â€â€
#zutara#adult zutara#adult zuko#dadko#steambabies#azusa oc#zutara Fandom#zutara headcanons#zutara hcs#avatar the last airbender#atla#my hcs#Just to specify Zuko(and Katara for that matter) doesn't have any favorites#I just LOVE the idea of a daddy's girl steambaby. It's SO cute#Zuko just in disbelief that she's so close to him when him and @zu|a would NEVER be that close to 0zai#just makes him feel grateful that Azusa loves and feels safe with him#also the 'drama' is just:Iroh-That's nice. Please leave :|#Shufen-I w i l l be back >:C#Iroh-(sighs)#reblogs would be appreciated!
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Music & Poetry - Chapter One
Summary:Â Popular-but-not-really-famous lyricist Virgil Quinn meets an attractive poet named Logan who claims to hate music. Virgil, who believes lyrics to be every bit the poetry as the kind found in books and anthologies and inspirational posters, feels the need to prove to Logan wrong.
Ship:Â Analogical (with others in the background)
Rating & Warnings: PG 13.
Chapters: 1 - 2
AO3:Â Chapter One
Thanks to @romantichopelessly for betaing and to @sunshineandteddybears and @paperghastly for pre-reading.
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Chapter One
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â LOGAN â
Logan sighed as he checked his phone for the second time in two minutes. He was standing outside of the main hall of the university where he would be speaking on that day. Due to his need for extensive planning, however, he was nearly two hours early for when he was required to be there.Â
 He considered checking in with the dean of the school but knew that many people felt inconvenienced by those who arrived more than an hour early. Typically, Logan didnât care too much about inconveniencing others with early arrivals, but Thomas Sanders, the dean of the school, was not just some man who had invited him to speak at this yearâs graduation. Thomas was also a very dear friend of his, and Logan would hate to add any undue anxiety onto the manâs already burdened shoulders.Â
Sighing again, Logan considered the time once more before opening Google Maps and searching for nearby cafes.Â
 Of course, Logan thought as his eyes took in the ten plus pins indicating Starbucks Coffee shops in the area. It was not that Logan was a coffee snob, though his best friend Roman would disagree, he was simply a man who knew what he liked, and Starbucks was awful in terms of taste compared to value. In his opinion, of courseâalthough anyone who disagreed was an idiot.
 Scrolling down to the list, his gaze was caught by the third listing. The Bumble Bean. Logan hummed, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the pun. It was, after all, better than the alternative.Â
 He noted the letter corresponded with the shop before consulting the map. Clicking on the name of the cafe, it popped up on the map and Logan clicked its little pin. The shopâs information appeared in a little bubble, including the business hours and, more importantly, the distance from his current location.Â
 A block and a half away. Not bad for a walk, especially considering the suit he wore. Decision made, Logan set down his messenger bag long enough to pull off the suit jacket. Lifting his bag from the ground, he draped his jacket over the bag and shouldered the strap once more.Â
 A quick click of the directions link on Google Maps and he was on his way.Â
   â â â
â â â â
â â â â
â â
 đ VIRGIL đ
 Virgil leaned back in the leather armchair he occupied, covering a yawn with his arm.Â
 âDonât start with that now, ViVi.âÂ
 Virgil grinned as he looked up at the barista who also happened to be his best friend.Â
 âSorry, Pat.âÂ
 Patton Hart was five foot four inches of adorable from the top of his curls to his white chucks with rainbow cat faces printed on the material. He also had the endearing habit of worrying for his friends. Especially Virgil.Â
 âLate night again?â Patton asked, brows furrowing in concern behind oversized glasses with gold round frames. Virgil nodded. âSleep is important, kiddo.âÂ
 Anyone who overheard the conversation would likely wonder why Pattonâwho easily looked younger than Virgil, though they were actually the same ageâwas calling him kiddo, but Virgil had come to accept that as just Patton being Patton. He was definitely a mom and dad friend.
 Virgil sighed. âYeah.â He brought a hand to his eyes, closing them to rub at the lids before offering Patton a winning smile. âThese lyrics wonât write themselves.âÂ
 Patton pursed his lips as he set Virgilâs black coffee down on a coaster. Once heâd straightened up, hands were fisted and rested on hips. Virgil tried his best to hold back a grin, but the other looked too adorable like that and so he failed. Miserably.Â
 âItâs not funny, Virgil. One of these days, youâre gonna wish youâd listened to dear olâ Patton.â
 âAnd when that day comes, I will gladly accept your âI told you soâ. Unfortunately, Iâm a night owl and my brain works best in the dead of night.âÂ
 Patton tutted but said nothing else on the matter. âDonât forget, its drinks night tonight. Emile will be late but I should be able to close up a little early so Iâll be there at ten.âÂ
 Virgil nodded. âAlright. Honestly, though, I donât know why I even go. Ever since you two started dating, I feel like such a third wheel. Are you sure you two just donât want the time to yourself? You and I could always catch up later.â
 âNonsense. Emile is as much your friend as he is mine, boyfriend or not. And, I donât want to hear another word about it, mister.âÂ
 Virgil snorted. âYeah, yeah. Okay, mom.âÂ
 âGood. Now, drink your coffee before it gets cold.â He glanced up at the front and gave a start. âOops, gotta get back to work. Iâll try to chat when the rush ends.âÂ
 Virgil waved him off. âSure thing, buddy. Talk to you later.âÂ
 Watching Patton make his way behind the counter, Virgil let his gaze wander to take in the other patrons of the little cafe. A smile slipped onto his lips as he remembered the day three years ago when Patton rushed up to him before blurting out his idea for a bookstore coffee house. Virgil had never seen his best friend so excited about anything in his life, which was saying a lot considering Pattonâs default setting was excited.Â
 It had taken a lot of work and Virgil had put a lot of money into the placeâan investment, he had told Patton when the other tried to refuseâbut the struggle had paid off in the end. The Bumble Bean had quickly become one of the hot spots in town, especially for students at the local university and high schools. Virgil was proud of his friend and never missed a chance to tell him, either.Â
 The gentle, light sound of the bell on the door sounded and Virgil idly glanced in that direction.Â
 Oh. My. God.Â
 A man who looked not much older than Virgil--but dressed in way nicer clothes than Virgil had ever owned--stepped inside and looked around before heading toward the counter. Virgil watched him as he made his way across the cafĂ©, his eyes taking in the man's face as his own heated up considerably.Â
 Gay panic is real.
 Virgil quickly looked away, busying himself with drinking his coffee. Unfortunately, due to his preoccupied brain, he had forgotten that coffee was generally very hot, and burned his tongue.Â
 âFuck.â He swore under his breath, tongue now numb and raw. Setting the cup down, Virgil glanced at the man from the corner of his eye.Â
 Iâm gay. I am so fucking gay.
 Virgil watched as the man stepped up to the counter after the last customer finished paying. He found himself wondering what kind of drink the man would order, mentally reminding himself to ask Patton later. Watching Patton help the man, Virgil guessed at what kind of job the man had.Â
 A businessman⊠then again, those pants are fitted as fuck⊠lawyer, maybe? Or CEO of some Fortune 500âŠÂ
 Pursing his lips, Virgil shook his head. The man didnât look like a slimy, two-timing, grubby-handed snake. It was possible he was dressed for a specific event. The suit aside, Virgil would guess a professor, or a scientist even. There was no way he would be able to guess correctly, he decided. No point trying.Â
 Turning his attention to his coffee, Virgil was momentarily distracted by the sound of feedback coming from the front. A stage was set up on the opposite side of the entrance, a young guy around Virgilâs age if not younger moving the stool closer to the microphone already present. There was a guitar in his other hand and a smile slipped onto Virgilâs face.Â
 Virgil Quinn was a college student at the local university but he was also a well-known lyricist. Well, well-known was a little generous considering most people werenât really interested in lyricists so much as the band or artist themselves. Most lyricists were annoyed by that fact but not Virgil. He liked being famous without actually being famous.Â
 Unlike the bands that sang his songs, Virgil could go where he liked, when he liked, with no concern for his safety or his privacy. Even on the rare occasion, a fan did care about the person who wrote the songs, his work was still appreciated and loved from afar. His pictures werenât the ones being plastered online, on busses, on television ads, and so on. He had more Twitter, Instagram, and YouTube followers than the average person and he was relatively âknownâ, but definitely not enough that it made much difference to his daily life.Â
 That was exactly how Virgil preferred it.Â
 âDo you mind?â
 Virgilâs attention had been successfully distracted enough that he hadnât noticed anyone come up.Â
 âMind?â Virgilâs indifferent attitude quickly turned shy and awkward as he turned to look at the person who asked the question. The gorgeous Mr. Maybe-A-Scientist.
 âIâd like to claim that chair over there but Iâll need to get past you to get there. If you donât mind.â
 Virgil seized up before mentally reminding himself that this was just another guy. Another human being. He could play it cool.Â
 Donât blush. Donât blush. Donât blush.Â
 Virgil glanced at the chair before looking back up at the man. He cleared his throat and stood up.Â
 In the brief few seconds that past between them as Virgil stood so he could shift out of the manâs way, Virgil became certain of a handful of things.Â
 First, the man with his dark gray, nearly black eyes could not be a CEO or lawyer. While his eyes held a certain level of cold, there was far too much feeling in them. Too much depth. Second, the man was at least a head shorter than him but there was no way Virgil would have known if he hadnât stood up. The confidence the man held about him was absolutely admirable. Virgil would have been worried the man was arrogant or, worse, a narcissist but he seemed far too polite and formal. Instead of self-importance, it was an air of near indifference that radiated from him.
 âThank you.â
 âYeah. No sweat.â
 Virgil could have mentally kicked himself. No sweat? Seriously? This man was obviously a man that existed off of intellectual knowledge and discourse. The best he could come up with was no sweat?
 Virgil watched the otherâs face, certain to see some sort of sign of dismissal but it never came. Instead, the man raised a brow and a second later, his lips quirked upwards. It was slight. So slight that Virgil wasnât even certain he truly saw it. That was until the man spoke again.Â
 âI still need to get by you, Iâm afraid.âÂ
 Was that amusement Virgil heard laced ever so subtly throughout the carefully chosen words? Virgil glanced at where he stood and swore under his breath. He was an absolute idiot. One thing was certain, however, as Virgil finally moved out of the otherâs way. There was a definite spark of amusement in the manâs eyes and voice when he glanced back to thank him, before moving on to the armchair just on the other side of the coffee table.Â
 Virgil blushed, quickly sitting once more and trying his best to melt into the couch. Not possible, of course, but he had to give himself props for trying. Deciding he had done enough damage to their interaction, Virgil turned his attention back to the stage where the young man with the guitar was now engaging the patrons sat around the stage.Â
 As the singer started playing and fading into his song, Virgil almost forgot about Mr. Sexy Scientist. No, who was he kidding. There was no way he could actually forget about him. Not with him being so damn attractive. Not with him being so damn close. But, his focus was preoccupied just enough to take his mind off the man, if only for the moment.Â
 That was, until a sound escaped the man, pulling Virgilâs attention back to him once more. Why is he so good looking? Life hated him. That was all there was to it. Putting such a gorgeous, put together man at arms reach only for Virgil to not have any chance in hell with him. The sound that left the man, however, had Virgilâs curiosity piqued. It was definitely a scoff that he had heard come from the well dressed man.Â
 âNot a fan of this kind of music?â Virgil asked, before he could think better of it. He took note that the other had pulled out a book and was presumably reading it. He didnât even look up at Virgil when answered his question.Â
 âNot a fan of music, actually.âÂ
 Virgil raised a brow. There was no way he had heard correctly. âSorry, what now?â
 The man looked up this time, a wry sort of expression on his face. It was the look of someone who had had this conversation on more than one occasion and didnât find it any more enjoyable than he had the first time. Virgil felt bad, but only a little. He was more curious and so offered an apologetic shrug, but continued to look at the man expectantly.Â
 The man sighed, marking the page he had been reading with a finger and set the book in his lap. His eyes found Virgilâs and it was all he could do to not look away. Swallowing hard, Virgil waited to hear what the man was about to say.Â
 âIâm just not a fan of any type of music. Itâs just⊠not my thing. I guess, classical counts as music and I do enjoy that when I am writing but in the general view of what is music these days, I really canât say any of it has my appreciation.â
 Virgil frowned. How sad to not like any music. The man looked ready to return to his book but Virgil found himself not wanting the conversation to end just yet. Grasping for something to talk about, he took note of what the man had said.Â
 âWriting?â
 The man nodded. He continued to watch Virgil but was obviously not about to offer any further information without being prompted.Â
 Just my luck. The most gorgeous man walks into my life and unwittingly challenges all my anxieties.Â
 âWhat do you write?âÂ
 Maybe he was an author?Â
 âIâm a poet.â Suddenly a hand was offered to him from across the coffee table. Virgil took it at the last minute, shaking it and trying hard not to focus on the fact that they were technically holding hands. Too soon, the man pulled his hand back. âLogan Wright. I donât expect youâve heard of me but youâve most likely come across a few of my poems. Theyâve been used in various media.â
 Virgil could only nod, unsure of what to say. A poet! Not only that but a poet who doesn't like music. As a lyricist, Virgil was of the belief that lyrics were poetry put to notes in order to make a songâto make music.Â
 The man went back to his book and Virgil watched him for a few moments before letting his attention return to the performer. The guy was not the best singer ever but played the guitar like a boss. Still, Virgil could hear the potential and knew well that this man could have a musical career hands down as long as he kept at it. The biggest draw to a singer like this one was that the words could be felt with his voice. That was a quality that so many singers didnât have but the very quality that proved Virgilâs belief.Â
 He knew he shouldnât care. He knew well that the likelihood of him ever seeing this manâLoganâagain was slim to none. Yet, he couldnât keep his attention from returning to the man. Every few glances, he would see the other wince or grimace. Virgil wanted to feel offended on the singerâs behalf but instead, he just felt pity for Logan.Â
 The time soon came when Logan stood and asked by him once again. This time Virgil was quick to stand and smiled shyly.Â
 âHope you have a good day.â
 Wow, could I be any more lame?
 The man smiled, however, and nodded. âLikewise.âÂ
 Virgil then watched him as he headed out of the shop and back into the world.Â
 A few seconds passed, Virgil wishing he had asked for his number or something. Not only that, but the knowledge that the man was missing out on something that was inspiration for millions of people⊠that just didnât sit right with him. If only he could spend a few days with Logan⊠show him what he was missing out on. Prove to him that not all music was bad and so much of it told a story.Â
 Fuck.
 Before he could talk himself out of it, Virgil rushed through the shop and out the door. He glanced in the direction the man had gone, his eyes falling on his retreating back.Â
 âLogan!â he called out. The man stopped and turned, tilting his head in a cute manner. Virgil didnât focus on that, instead starting toward him as the man started back, distance closing between them.Â
 âCan I help you?â
 Virgil blushed, suddenly unsure of himself. Was what he was about to propose stupid? Whatever. He would never know until he tried.Â
 âGive me a week.â
 Logan snorted. âIâm sorry, give you what?â
 Virgil blushed and rushed on. âI mean⊠in there. What you said about music? Give me a week to prove you wrong.â
 Logan blinked and slowly smirked. âAnd what makes you think Iâll even be here a week?â
 That stopped Virgil in his tracks. It never even occurred to him that the man was out of town. He felt himself frowning and was about to apologize when the man spoke up again.Â
 âI mean, I will be, as it turns out, but it is intriguing for you to just assume so. Still, your proposal has me curious. I donât know exactly how you plan to change my mind, but I do like experiments as much as the next scholar. I do have somewhere to be at the present, but if you give me your number, I will text you.â
 In the next moments, Virgil gave Logan his number and watched as he walked away. He had no idea how he had managed it, but now that was the least of his worries.Â
 Virgil now had just under seven days to change the mind of a very hot, intelligent, and opinionated poet.Â
 To say he had his work cut out for him was definitely an understatement.
  â â â
â â â â
â â â â
â â
Disclaimer:Â The author does not own Sanders Sides or any of the characters found therein. They are also not affiliated with Thomas Sanders, Joan Stokes, or the Thomas Sanders team. Only the complete story as it is written is the property of the author and is not to be copied or reposted without express permission from the author.
#analogical#logan sanders#virgil sanders#ts art#sanders sides#thomas sanders#patton sanders#patmile#remas#thomas/remy#other possible ships#i don't know which at this time#| analogical ;;#| patmile ;;#| remas ;;#m&p au#| au (mine) - music & poetry ;;#| m&p ;;#| creator - analogicisms ;;#| breathtaking worlds mapped by their words ;;
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Tangled Timelines Chapter 3 Rated: T Chapter Word Count: 5,010 Chapter Summary:Â The Doctor and Rose try to track down some ghosts. Notes:Â Hey look! It's an update!! Hopefully they'll be happening more regularly now. I'm semi doing NaNoWriMo, and by that I mean that I'm attempting to write 50,000 words this month spread across any project (including this one). I'm starting to find my groove with this fic, so *fingers crossed*
As always, many hugs and thanks for @hey-there-juliet , my lovely beta. && all mistakes are mine.
READ IT ON AO3 [copy/paste link]
https://archiveofourown.org/works/26686090/chapters/67268401
<-- Ch2
Ch 4 -->
As soon as he entered his ship, the Doctor collapsed onto the jumpseat and stared blankly at the time rotor for a few moments. And then he glared at it.
âI somehow manage to happen upon the exact coordinates for the beginning of an invasion, and for some reason youâve put me smack dab in the middle of it?!â
The answering hum was ⊠frustrated.
He furrowed his brows, frowning. It would be exceedingly bad, incredibly bad, astonishingly bad bad bad if something else was influencing the TARDIS. The Doctor sprang to his feet and immediately sonicked open the grating, taking a moment to place a temporary barrier around his panic before he could worry Rose.
Back at the flat, she was having tea with her mother. Sheâd only just managed to get Jackie to stop complaining about his apparent need to âmake everything about aliensâ, and they were now talking about the wedding. Apparently sheâd found a baker who said theyâd make up cake samples that all somehow incorporated bananas. Best news heâd heard (well, technically) all day, and he couldnât properly appreciate the sentiment when he desperately needed to check his ship and parse out exactly what he was going to do about these âghostsâ.
First things first, he needed to make sure that the TARDIS was physically fine. That she was healthy. And actually, it wasnât so bad. There were some minor repairs he should take care of before they next left Earth, but nothing he couldnât leave until after theyâd saved the planet. The Doctor pulled himself out from under the console and bounced over to the navigational matrix, pulling a screen with him as he went.
His mouth dropped as he looked at the recording of their last flight path. A time track seemed to just- just pop into existence, pushing them months away. His ship had immediately landed due to the unexpected error. It literally looked like a glitch in the Vortex - but there were no such thing as glitches in the Time Vortex. A whole dimension doesnât glitch - not without some outside force acting on it.
And any outside force meddling with time was even more dangerous than whatever these âghostsâ were.
One bloody thing at a time, though.
The Doctor pushed himself away from the console and began pacing.
Ghosts ghosts ghosts ghosts ghosts.
Not really ghosts. Getting stronger from the psychic energy of the entire human race. Incredibly unpleasant when one walks through you - really do feel dead. Worse than dead. Likely nothing good, and all over the world.
But they appear in shifts. Thereâs shifts.
So someone had to be in charge of that. Probably multiple someones. But still, there would be a central location connected to them, giving them whatever help they need to press themselves onto the Earth from wherever they really are. To do that, all around the world, they would have to have an incredibly strong signal.
An incredibly strong, traceable signal.
âAlright then!â
Headfirst into danger was just what it was going to have to be.
The Doctor sonicked open a different panel and began rummaging around for the equipment heâd need. It wasnât long before he heard the TARDIS' door open.
âAccording to the paper,â his wife announced, âtheyâve elected a ghost as MP for Leeds. Now tell me about this plan youâre tryinâ so hard to keep secret.â
He popped out of the grating with a backpack full of equipment.
âWho you gonna call?â he joked.
âGhostbusters!â Rose laughed, more amused by the voice he was using than his shockingly similar looking technology.
âI ainât afraid of no ghosts,â the Doctor finished with a little jig before dashing out of the TARDIS.
âMy mumâs on her way down,â she informed him as he looked around the playground for the best area to set up the cones. Actually, should do nicely right where they were.
âOh?â He turned on his heel and went back into their ship, pleased that sheâd seen fit to set out the rest of the equipment they would need. âLetâs get these outside.â
âDoctor,â his bondmate huffed, even as she took a cone. I donât think we should tell her yet. About the lifespan thing. Not until after weâve gotten rid of the ghosts. Like, way after. Next trip back.
Thatâs fine, he agreed as he sat down his roll of wire and cone and began plugging everything in.
âWeâll still have to stay for awhile, though. Because we said we would.â
The Doctor paused what he was doing, dramatically raising his eyes skyward. It was quite a nice day, really. Youâd think, with London having nice weather for once, that heâd be able to enjoy it. He opened his mouth, planning to vocalize his many complaints, but as soon as he turned back towards Rose, he saw Jackie walking up.
After the ghosts, yes. Sometime during this trip, though, please .Â
He wasnât ashamed to beg. Well ⊠a little ashamed.
âWhyâd you park all the way over here?â Jackie asked as he began plugging the wires into the cone Rose had placed.
âGot tired of the alley. Bit dingy,â he quipped. It was a lie, but better than telling his mother-in-law that not only had the flight gone wrong time-wise, but also slightly by location.
His wife shot him a worried look as she caught the thought.
Later, he promised, rushing back into the TARDIS for the final cone. He would worry about all of that later - they had important things to do.
âWhenâs the next shift?â he asked as he sat the cone down.
âQuarter to,â Jackie answered, âbut donât go causing trouble. Whatâs that lot do?â
âTriangulates their point of origin.â
âI donât suppose itâs the Gelth?â Rose asked, visions of their spectral forms playing across their bond for a moment.
âNah,â the Doctor responded, and she quickly shrugged off the idea. âThey were just coming through one little rift. This lot are transposing themselves over the whole planet. Like tracing paper.â
With the final cone plugged in, he ran over to make sure they were all in the proper position.
âYouâre always doing this,â Jackie complained. âReducing it to science. Why canât it be real? Just think of it, though. All the people weâve lost. Our families coming back home. Donât you think itâs beautiful?â
He paused to give his mother-in-law an honest answer.Â
âI think itâs horrific.âÂ
And then the Doctor bounced back into motion, unrolling the cable that would connect the triangulation devices to the TARDIS console. They were on a time crunch, after all. âRose, give us a hand, love.â
His bondmate sighed before following him into the ship.
Sheâs so upset.
The Doctor remained silent, aware that the thought wasnât really meant for him and even more aware that there wasnât anything he could say that would help. He plugged in the cable and turned to Rose, aware that her mother had followed them inside. This is how they could help.
âAs soon as the cones activate,â he explained quickly, pointing to the monitor, âif that line goes red, press that button there. If it doesnât stop,â he continued, reaching into his jacket to pull out the sonic screwdriver, âsetting 15-B. Hold it against the port, eight seconds and stop.â
â15-B, eight seconds,â she confirmed.
âIf it goes into the blue, activate the deep scan on the left.â
âUhm ⊠oh!â His wife leaned over the console, which he found much more provocative than the situation really called for. âThis button there?â
âHmm close.â
And heâd really, sincerely intended to send her a mental image of the correct button, but some wires must have gotten crossed there. Instead what he sent was a memory of their return to the TARDIS right after the Rhibelini festival. Eh. Oops?
âThat one?â Rose smirked, pointing to another button that was definitely not close, while sending some very, uhm, creative suggestions that, unfortunately, werenât actually feasible.
âEehh, now youâve just killed us,â the Doctor told her with a theatrical grimace.
With the button, or- ?
They both laughed, but only for a moment.
âEr, that one.â She confidently pointed to the correct button, telepathically informing him that she knew the whole time.
âYeah!â he smiled before turning to Jackie. âNow, whatâve we got? Two minutes to go?â
Jackie looked down at her watch, and the Doctor was glad that she didnât realize that he was just trying to make her feel needed. That he was a Time Lord and didnât need her help to check the time. Because his wife had to be right - thereâs no way her mum actually enjoys the act of doing laundry. She enjoys being a mum.
You like her, Rose teased over the bond.
Shush.
He gave her a peck on the cheek before exiting the ship to do the final prep work on the triangulation cones. It was go time. The Doctor raced around, calibrating each one.
âWhatâs the line doing?â he shouted through the door.
âItâs alright,â came his wifeâs answering shout, though she really didnât need to with his superior hearing. She could whisper and heâd be able to hear her from this short of a distance. âItâs holding!â
âYou even look like him,â Jackie said to Rose, and he could hear her just fine. Not that he understood what that was supposed to mean.
âHow do you mean? I suppose I do, yeah,â his wife responded, sounding pleased, though he still didnât know what it meant. Rose didnât look at all like him. What a strange thing to say. He tried to refocus on the triangulation equipment.
âYouâve changed so much,â Jackie sighed. âAll grown up and married to an alien, living in a spaceship.â
The Doctor almost said something to Rose about her mother acknowledging that they were, in fact, already married, but then caught himself. If she didnât already know that he was eavesdropping, no need to make it obvious. Not that it would matter either way. He wasnât going to stuff cotton in his ears just because the humans in his life couldnât be bothered to remember all of his biological differences.
âFor the better,â his wife replied with confidence. âWe have an amazing life, and weâre in love.â
âI suppose. Itâs just barmy. Seeing you two like this in this box of his. Makes it hard to pretend everythingâs even a little normal.â
He wondered what exactly Jackie imagined their life was like when they werenât around. Things had actually gotten shockingly domestic lately, though it would still probably be too alien for his mother-in-law.
âMum, I used to work in a shop.â
âIâve worked in shops. Whatâs wrong with that?â
âNo, I didnât mean that,â Rose sighed.
Once again the Doctor made himself refocus on the task at hand, all the while hoping that they werenât about to have a row.
âI know what you meant. What happens when Iâm gone?â
âDonât talk like that,â Rose ordered, distress flooding their connection, making it nearly impossible for him to pay attention to the cones.
How exactly was he supposed to save the Earth with these working conditions?
There was a smug voice in his head, with a distinct Northern accent, very pleased to point out how they were right about avoiding domestics.
âNo, but really. When Iâm dead and buried, you wonât have any reason to come back home. What happens then?â Jackie asked her.
âI donât know,â Rose mumbled, as she tried and failed to imagine their future life without her mother in it.
The Doctor frowned, realizing that he couldnât quite picture it either.
âDo you think youâll ever settle down?â her mother continued.
Their connection was now awash with all sorts of negative emotions, and he could tell that his bondmate was near tears, which was completely unacceptable. He turned away from the cones, ready to march back on board before stopping himself.
âThe Doctor never will, so I canât,â Rose told her. âWouldnât want to. Weâll just keep traveling.â
âAnd youâll keep on changing. And in forty years time, fifty, thereâll be this woman, this strange woman, walking through the marketplace on some planet a billion miles from Earth. But sheâs not Rose Tyler. Not anymore. Sheâs not even human.â
Their bond somehow managed to pulse mauve.
Itâs going to be okay, love, he tried to comfort her, fighting to send soothing, positive thoughts over their connection just as he finished up the calibrations. A distraction, thatâs what she needed! It was certainly what he needed.
âHere we go!â he shouted.
âThe scannerâs working!â Rose called out. âIt says Delta-One-Six!â
âCome on then, you beauty!â the Doctor laughed, firmly resolved on drowning out all of the pain present in their shared mental space with adrenaline fueled glee. After all, he had always wanted to use these cones - they were state of the art!
He watched with wide eyes as the cones connected, immediately trapping one of the so-called âghostsâ within their quasi-electric field. And then he reached into his pocket, carefully blocking their bond as he pulled out and put on a pair of 3D glasses - this was the part of his speculations that he really would rather not worry his bondmate with. At least, not yet. Not until he absolutely had to.
The ghost ⊠thing heâd just trapped was absolutely riddled with Void particles. Completely covered, blurry head to blurry toe. Blimey.
The Doctor knelt down, adjusting the controls in order to get a more accurate read. If he was lucky, he would be able to figure out which parallel world these creatures were trying to come from. Likely a parallel Earth, but which one?
It began writhing, though nothing about the triangulation device should cause a living thing pain.
âDonât like that much, do you?â he couldnât help commenting. âWho are you? Where are you coming from? Woah!â He jumped back as the âghostâ attempted to break out of the containment field. âThatâs more like it! Not so friendly now, are you?â
He looked on as the creature faded away and the cones deactivated. While some more time would have been helpful, the Doctor had enough information to get started. After quickly picking up all of the cones, he ran back inside. Once heâd dumped them all out of the way, he raced up to the console, shrugging out of his coat and tossing it onto the railing.
âI said so!â he exclaimed. âThose ghosts have been forced into existence from one specific point, and I can track down the source. Allons-y!â
With that, he slammed the dematerialization lever, the coordinates having been inputted by the triangulation device. So handy! Finally got to use it.
The TARDIS shook violently.
Well, maybe he could make some improvements ... if he ever got the chance to use it again. The Doctor sprung to his feet and stabilized the flight.
Things seemed abnormally silent in the console room and over their bond. He was uncertain as to why, but still gave over to his natural inclination to fill the silence.
âI like that,â he told his wife as he moved around the console. âAllons-y. I should say allons-y more often. Allons-y. Watch out, Rose Tyler. Allons-y. And then, it would be really brilliant if I met someone called Alonso, because then I could say, âAllons-y Alonsoâ every time.â He finally reached Rose and wrapped his arms around her before pausing. âYouâre staring at me.â
âMy mumâs still on board,â she whispered, squeezing his arms.
The Doctor looked up to see Jackie Tyler sitting on one of the platforms.
It was terrifying.
âIf we end up on Mars, Iâm going to kill you.â
Absolutely, bone-chillingly terrifying.
Stop being a drama queen, his bondmate chastised.
Oh, the domestics of it all! Worse than living in a house! Traveling with his mother-in-law?!
Youâll be fine, itâs hardly traveling . Weâre in the same city, in the same time, Rose reassured him, rolling her eyes before giving him a proper hug.
What was he supposed to do now, though?! Bring Jackie with them? Leave her in the TARDIS? It would likely be dangerous wherever they ended up, invasion and all. The alternative was having her stay in their home to snoop around and get up to who knows what. There was no winning!
âWelcome aboard, Jackie!â he said with a wave, his smile showing a bit too much teeth.
âWhere exactly are we going, anyway?â her mother asked.
âCome down, mum. You can watch the landing on the view screen with us,â Rose encouraged, releasing him so that she could meet her halfway. âWeâre gonna land at wherever theyâre controlling the ghosts. Are you fine to stay on board? Thereâs a pool, you could have a nice swim. Or watch telly in the media room. Weâll be back before you know it.â
âIâm just supposed to hang out in this weird ship of his while youâre off trying to get yourselves killed?â
âWe do stuff like this all the time,â the Doctor piped in, trying to reassure her. âOnly this time youâre on the TARDIS instead of at home in your flat. Which, really, is much better, when you think about it. Best ship in the Universe.â
Jackie still didnât look thrilled as they all gathered around the view screen. She looked even less thrilled as they watched the TARDIS land in a hanger before immediately being surrounded by armed gunmen.
âOh, well, there goes the advantage of surprise,â he sighed. âStill, cuts to the chase.â
Now he was going to have to deal with soldiers. Really, every time he thought that the day couldnât possibly get worse. The Doctor turned to his mother-in-law as he made his way around the console.
âJackie, stay inside. Doors shut. They canât get in.â
âIâm not staying here! Take me home!â
âItâs too late for that,â he told her. âShouldnât have come aboard if you didnât fancy a trip.â
âI was kidnapped!â
He rolled his eyes, deciding not to dignify that with a response as he took Roseâs hand. She pulled him to a stop before they reached the door.
âDoctor, theyâve got guns.â
The Doctor mentally reminded his wife that theyâd been surrounded by much, much worse. Daleks couldnât help but come to mind. 21 st century Earth guns were really the least of his concerns at the moment. Jackie Tyler accidentally breaking his precious timeship was more of a worry than guns. Whatever these creatures had planned, definitely more of a worry than guns.
âAnd we havenât,â he delightfully informed her. âWhich makes us the better people, donât you think? They can shoot us dead, but the moral high ground is ours.â
With that, he tugged her out of the TARDIS behind him and closed the door as casually as he could manage.
Honestly, with all of the emergency programs he had installed, why couldnât he have made one to deal with this scenario? A program that would immediately take Jackie home and then bring the TARDIS right back - now that would be nifty.
 They barely had a chance to look around before the soldiers surrounding them cocked their guns. He and Rose quickly raised their hands to prove they were unarmed.
Yâknow what this reminds me of?, his wife casually asked across their connection.
What?
Utah, 2012.
The Doctorâs eyes swept the area as much as he could without moving his head. He could see her point.
Do you think theyâd fire if I knocked on wood right now?, he asked her, just as a blonde woman in a suit rushed into the hanger.
âOh! Oh, how marvelous!â she exclaimed, clapping.
I think she mayâve gone âround the bend, Rose laughed in his head as she fought back a confused smile.
The soldiers slowly began to lower their weapons as they joined in on the ⊠clapping? Really, why were they clapping?
âOh, very good. Superb. Happy day!â
Really, the Doctor felt inclined to agree with his bondmate on this one. Still, now that guns werenât being pointed at them he was inclined to just go with it.
âUhm, thanks. Nice to meet you,â he greeted. âIâm the Doctor, and this is my-â
Probably not the time to introduce me as your wife.
â- this is Rose.â
âHello,â his wife waved with a wide grin that didnât reach her eyes.
âOh, I should say! Hurray!â
And there they went again with the clapping. Honestly, what the bloody hell was going on?
Think youâve got more fans, Rose teased.
âYou- youâve heard of me, then?â
Really, where had his ship landed them?
âWell of course we have,â the overly enthusiastic woman replied. âAnd I have to say, if it wasnât for you, none of us would be here! The Doctor and the TARDIS.âÂ
Everyone started clapping yet again. He was starting to get used to it, actually. It was kind of nice.
âAnd his companion, of course,â the woman continued.
Okay, not as nice. Then again, Rose was the one who didnât want him to say she was his wife. Which was probably the smart thing to do, mid-invasion, but still. Just ⊠didnât feel right. As it was, she had had to cover her mouth with her hands in order to keep herself from laughing - out loud. Their bond was awash with her amusement. The Doctor found himself fighting the urge himself as he tried to politely make them stop.
âAnd- and- and you are?â he asked as the noise died down.
âOh, plenty of time for that,â she evaded. Huh.
I think she thinks sheâs the boss of you, his bondmate informed him.
She also thinks that Iâm the boss ofyou, the Doctor couldnât help but point out.
Bless.
âAaaaaaanyway lead on, allons-y. Will there be nibbles?â
He fought the urge to take Roseâs hand as they followed the woman away from the TARDIS, surrounded by armed guards, stuffing his fists into his pockets. A moment later she tugged on his sleeve. The Doctor glanced over, taking out his hand when she rolled her eyes. Their fingers slotted together, perfect fit, as always.
Weâve been holding hands since the moment we met, she mentally chastised. Memories played across their bond.
She certainly wasnât wrong.
Sorry, he told her, squeezing her hand. Not sure how to pretend to not be married, I guess.
Out of the corner of his eye he could see Rose smirk.
Well, I took off my ring. Think all weâve got to do now is not say it outright.
Before he could properly respond, something on the tip of his tongue (or whatever the telepathic equivalent of that idiom might be) about how he could do a much better job than that, the mystery woman started talking.
âIt was only a matter of time until you found us, and at last youâve made it,â she said. âIâd like to welcome you, Doctor. Welcome to Torchwood.â
With that, she flung open the doors and they entered a massive warehouse. A massive warehouse that was full of alien technology. And since this definitely wasnât UNIT, this was very, very not good.
Blimey , he told his wife, youâre right. This really is frighteningly similar to that bunker in Utah.
Gonna nip over to that crate and knock on wood?, Rose asked, only partially teasing.
He really was considering it, actually, but ⊠(he peeked behind him at the armed soldiers following uncomfortably close) better not. Instead he focused on the spacecraft in front of them.
âThatâs a Jathar Sunglider,â he realized.
âCame down to Earth off the Shetland Islands ten years ago,â the woman explained.
âWhat, did it crash?â
âNo, we shot it down,â she stated. âIt violated our airspace. Then we stripped it bare.âÂ
Oh, this was really not good. The Doctor tried to sense the timelines, but they were all still so jumbled and wrong that he couldnât make out the consequences of it, this technology that Earth really shouldnât have right now. Not yet.
âThe weapon that destroyed the Sycorax on Christmas day?â the woman continued with pride, âThat was us. Now, if youâd like to come with me.â
Thatâs what Harriet said, Rose realized, replaying the memory over the bond, Torchwood. I didnât even think about it, though.
No, me either, he agreed as they were led further into the warehouse. Why hadnât he noticed anything off before? He should have felt it. On Christmas, maybe not - heâd just regenerated. But apparently this organization has been active for at least a decade, if not longer.
âThe Torchwood Institute has a motto - âIf itâs alien, itâs oursâ,â their âcaptorâ slash âtour guideâ explained. âAnything that comes from the sky, we strip it down and we use it for the good of the British Empire.â
âExcuse me, the what?â Rose interrupted.
âThe British Empire,â the woman repeated, turning around and looking his bondmate up and down, sizing her up.
âThere hasnât been a British Empire in ages,â Rose informed her, and she wasnât wrong.
âWeâll see,â their hostess replied, a little too condescending for his liking. âAh, excuse me,â she continued as a soldier handed her a particle gun?! âNow if you wouldnât mind. Do you recognize this, Doctor?â
âThatâs a particle gun.â
Now that he was here, now that this had his full attention, the Doctor could feel the strain on the timelines. This whole building was a threat to the entire causal nexus. His wife held his hand tighter when he showed her just a smidge of it over their connection.
âGood, isnât it?â the woman smiled, unaware of the impending disaster that he wasnât yet sure how to fix. âTook us eight years to get it to work.â
âItâs the 21st century,â he calmly tried to explain. âYou canât have particle guns.â
âWe must defend our border against the alien,â she replied, as if that somehow gave them a free pass.
The Doctor didnât know what to say to that, which apparently was fine, as their guide wasnât really paying attention anyway as she handed back the gun.
âThank you, Sebastian, isnât it?â
I think itâs best if we just, you know, let her talk, he told Rose, studiously not looking directly at her - and really, there was a lot to take in, the warehouse was packed with advanced tech. Much too advanced.
âYes, maâam.â
Think sheâll give us an evil monologue?
Well, I donât think sheâs evil, he admitted. I think sheâs ⊠some sort of, I donât know, business woman? I think she truly believes that what theyâre doing here is good . Which makes them even more dangerous.
It would also make stopping them even more difficult.
âThank you, Sebastian.â
He refocused as she turned back to them.
âI think itâs very important to know everyone by name,â she said. âTorchwood is a very modern organization. People skills. Thatâs what itâs all about these days. Iâm a people person.â
Well thatâs ⊠nice?, Rose commented across the bond as she gave the woman a very forced grin.
âHave you got anyone called Alonso?â he couldnât help but ask.
âNo, I donât think so. Is that important?â
Eh, oh well. It was kind of nice, though, having her asking a question for once.
âNo, I suppose not,â the Doctor replied, just as he noticed a crate of Magnaclamps. Heâd always wanted some, hadnât gotten around to it, though. âWhat was your name?â
âYvonne,â she told them (finally). âYvonne Hartman.â
He let go of his wifeâs hand, giving into the urge to inspect a clamp.
âAh, yes,â Yvonne said with a smile. âNow, weâre very fond of these. The Magnaclamp. Found in a spaceship buried at the base of Mount Snowdon. Attach this to an object and it cancels the mass,â she explained, as if he didnât already know. âI could use it to lift two tonnes of weight with a single hand. Thatâs an imperial ton, by the way. Torchwood refuses to go metric.â
Of course they do, Rose scoffed over the bond. British Empire, I mean really.
âWell, thatâs handy,â is what she said aloud as he tossed the clamp back into the crate, wandering away to try to get a better idea of all of the other alien technology theyâd managed to scavenge, commandeer or steal. His wife wandered in the opposite direction, giving him a second set of eyes even if she didnât know what everything was. It really was a devastating amount, and the Doctor had to assume that this wasnât all of it.
Really, it was about time they got back on track.
âSo, what about the ghosts?â he asked.
âAh, yes, the ghosts. Theyâre, er, what you might call a side effect,â Yvonne admitted.
âOf what?â
âAll in good time, Doctor. There is an itinerary, trust me.â
Ugh, of all the things to add to this no-good-very-bad-day, he was stuck on a tour. With an itinerary.
It was his personal hell, really.
And to make it even worse, there went the TARDIS on the back of a lorry.
âAn itinerary?â Rose scoffed. âAnd what are you lot doing with the TARDIS?!â My mumâs in there!
Oh, seriously?! Heâd just managed to forget that theyâd left Jackie Tyler unsupervised on the ship. Really, truly, worst day ever.
Seriously? Could you just grow up and get some perspective?, his wife snarled over their connection.
âIf itâs alien, itâs ours,â Yvonne replied confidently.
âYouâll never get inside it,â he told her with just as much confidence, if not more.
âHmm, et cetera.â
Once she turned away, they both glanced back at their ship to see Roseâs mum peek out through the doors - which he distinctly remembered telling her to keep shut.
Really, why did no one ever listen? He didnât understand it.
With a sigh, and all of his unflattering thoughts about his mother-in-law safely behind a barrier, the Doctor turned away to continue their âtourâ. At least the ghosts were on the itinerary. So this day had to turn âround at some point ⊠right?
#ten x rose#tenrose#time petals#ficandchips#dw fanfiction#fandom: doctor who#pairing: rose x doctor#fic: tangled timelines#my fic
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2020 IN WRITING
tagged by: @indestinatusâ
tagging: no one, because I am unable to think straight. But whoever is interested in doing this: Iâm interested in reading it. <3Â
Wow, okay, Iâm getting real in this little questionnaire... read at your own risk, friends.
1. List of works published this year:
I genuinely canât write them all out here... there are too many of them! (Iâve done so little besides writing this year!) But I keep a running list of all my projects here. Iâm sorry for cheating on this one, haha.Â
2. Work you are most proud of (and why):
This question comes up a lot on these things, and I always put the same answer: That We May Forgive. Itâs has emotional moments, silly moments, heartfelt moments where the warmth made me cry as I wrote. It was written in one sitting, and itâs the story where I felt most connected to the characters I love so much. It sums up the joy I feel knowing that these (fictional) friends of mine have finally reached peace after too many years of trauma and hardship. I began the story with a single line in mind, after which the characters took over and told the story for me:
Ziva's second pregnancy is nothing like her first.
3. Work you are least proud of (and why):
You Stumble, You Soar, which was written for one of my dearest friends in the world, @why-did-you-just-lie-to-mcgeeâ. I wanted to do so much better by her, but as I ran out of time to complete the story by the end of her birthday, I rushed the writing and I think the story suffered for it. It made her happy, though, and thatâs the most important thing. She deserves all the happiness, all the timeâbut especially on her birthday.Â
4. A favorite excerpt of your writing:
I canât think of a favorite excerpt of my writing, because Iâve written so much that I canât think back!
5. Share or describe a favorite review you received:
âWow. Let me just tell you that I am absolutely in love with this story. I wake up everyday and, as I log into fanfiction, my only hope is that you've uploaded a new chapter because DAMN. The characters are so well written, the story is beautifully constructed and this last chapter just broke my heart into tiny little pieces. What a remarkable job you've done. Please, don't ever stop writing NCIS/Tiva fanfiction- specially this one story: it's one of my all time favorites. Thank you :)â
An incredibly kind and inspiring comment by a reader named Alexandra on my longest (WIP) fic, We Are an Ocean.
6. A time when writing was really, really hard:
Iâve had two periods of NCIS hiatus this yearâand actually, Iâm still in the midst of the second one right now. These have periods of turmoil in my own life. When Iâm upset, feeling sick, feeling sorry for myself and Iâm depressed and aching... thatâs when I write the best, because writing is my safety blanket. When Iâm feeling numb, though, or lost... the characters are lost to me, too, and so are the words I use to wrap them (and myself) in comfort.
7. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you:
Iâm going to deviate here from NCIS, which isâIâm well awareâwhy most of my followers have chosen to follow me. But in the last month, Iâve written a single fic for Criminal Mindsâitâs called In Possibility, itâs unpublished, and itâs now over 100,00 words. Itâs centered on Spencer Reid, who was intimidating to me when I started writing the fic. Heâs far more intelligent than I am, requiring me to do a lot of research to give him realistic lines, heâs a deep and complicated character with complicated motivations and a tangled, traumatic past. He also has a sweet, really good heart thatâs been scarred by years of difficult work and an emotionally taxing personal life.Â
I thought heâd be difficult to write; to my surprise, he comes as naturally to me as any of my other favorite characters ever have. He gave me my first nanowrimo win! To be frank, heâs gotten me through a lot of shit this year. That was the best surprise.
8. How did you grow as a writer this year:
To be honest, I wasnât much of a writer before this year. I enjoyed writing, especially in a roleplay setting with fandom friends... but I deeply struggled with trying to write alone. I didnât do much of it.
Then, this year, well... the concept of writing exploded into the most important distraction, escape, and joy I could imagine.Â
I didnât grow as a writer this year. I became a writer this year.
9. How do you hope to grow next year:
My most recent projectâthe one that, as Iâve said, is (and will remain) unpublishedâhas given me a new perspective. Itâs written for an audience of me and only me... so Iâve given myself permission to engage in the most ridiculously self-indulgent writing Iâve ever embraced and thrown myself into.Â
And it has been the greatest joy I could imagine in a time of great pain.*Â
Next year, I want to throw myself into every project I work on with as much reckless abandon as Iâve done in this last project. I want to stop worrying so much about what people will think and pursue the words that are bursting out of the fingers on my laptop keyboard. I want to have confidence in my ability to draw out emotionsâif from no one else, at least from myself.
âIf I can stop one heart from breaking, I shall not live in vain.â âEmily Dickinson
And itâs alright if that one heart is mine.
Thatâs what I want to accomplish in my writing next year, and what a growth that would be!
* Iâve mentioned this in my last post, but Iâm recovering from brain surgery, I also have the COVID-19 virus, and Iâm working on passing a kidney stone that may be too big to pass. Iâm writing 10,000 words a day to get through itâand itâs working. Distraction is everything to me right now.
10. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):
Like Sof, I have to tag three people here, because I really couldnât choose just one. My three best friends in the world all influenced my writing in their own ways! <3 (Sorry for deviating a little from the writing thing in some of the following lines, oops. I just have emotions that are all over the place this week!)
@indestinatus â One of a few best friends who has had my back every day for so long now. She listens when I need to talk things outâwhether or not Iâm talking about writing. She really gets me when I need to be silly, or I need to be serious, or I just really, really need a friend. Also, she inspired me to start learning Portuguese this year, and Iâm actually practicing by writing a fic in Portuguese, lol. Itâs slow going... but Sof encourages me (and corrects me, haha) whenever I work on it, just as she does with absolutely anything else I work on. Truly, Iâve had few friends in my life that are so special to me, and I love her. I really do.Â
@why-did-you-just-lie-to-mcgee â Is there a better cheerleader on this earth? Is there a better friend? Doubtful on both counts. She thinks Iâm a disasterâand, by the way, sheâs absolutely rightâand she sometimes has to remind me to eat and sleep, but sheâs totally cool with being my internet mom. Doesnât matter that sheâs nearly a decade younger than I am, lol. All of these things have bolstered me when the writer inside of me has faltered, and she has carried my burdens as I wrote them out. Anyway, she reads everything I write, and she has requested to gain access to all of my unfinished chapters and unpublished works in the event that I dieâI completely trust her with that nonsense. Iâve written it into my will. Really. Like with Sof, I genuinely love Tiz, and Iâd do anything for her.Â
@honeybadgerdocare â Best friend of 20 years. She doesnât watch the same shows that I do, and my endless ranting makes very little sense to her... but she listens. Sheâs my sounding board for everything I write, everything I read, everything I watch, and everything that gives me big feelings. I genuinely canât describe how much she has helped me with my writing every single day, so Iâll leave it at this: I could not do it without her. Iâd drown in my own struggles and Iâd stop creating the art that sustains me. Sheâs my soulmateâsorry to her fiancĂ©. All of my love goes to her!
11. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year:
HAHAHAHAHA itâs cute how you think my writing is anything other than a re-organized and fictionalized version of my life and my feelings. Real life shows up in my writing, and my writing shows up in my real life. It gets crazy and obsessive, but like... I had a trip to Israel booked this year (obviously canceled due to the pandemic, but still) because Ziva comes from Israel. (Also because of my Jewish adoration for the spiritual homeland, but the thought of going and the trip planning all started with Ziva.) I went to Baltimore so I could run down an alley yelling âYOU CANâT OUTRUN ME, IâM WEARING TUBE SOCKS!â to encourage my inner Tony DiNozzo. I nearly froze to death in Washington, D.C. and called my mom every time I saw a little red mini coop that looked like Zivaâs, or came across a place that was featured in an NCIS scene.
And to answer the actual question here, because I obviously flipped it around like the moron I am... when the pandemic canceled things I was desperately looking forward to, I wrote a fic where Taliâs excitedly anticipated dance recital got canceled because of the pandemic. I lost my appendix (last year, but the fic was written this year â does that count?) and wrote a fic where Tali loses hers, too. (I swear, I donât always write things that torture Tali, lol, these are just my best examples!) When I lost a couple of loved ones this year, I wrote a funeral scene where Tony and Tali remembered Ziva. Writing is definitely free therapy, yâall.
12. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:
Write for yourselfâwrite what you love, and youâll love what you write. Thatâs all. Thatâs it. Thatâs my advice, something Iâve learned this year.
13. Any projects youâre looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:
Iâve been working on We Are an Ocean for roughly a year now, and 2021 needs to see it finished. Iâve got a number of lovely, dedicated readers who deserve to see the story play out as itâs intended to be played out.Â
Also, my greatest love right now, In Possibility, will probably write itself to an end in 2021. Or... who knows? Maybe it will worm its way into 2022, too. :-)
14. If you could recommend only one work from yourself published this year:
Since I already went into detail about my favorite fic of mine from this year (That We May Forgive), Iâll recommend a different one: The Stars Always Make Me Laugh. It has some of the darkest moments Iâve ever written, but it also has some of the lightest moments Iâve ever written. It was an answer to two different challenges, and if I can say this without sounding arrogant, I think I met the challenges beautifully. It gave me comfort, catharsis, and closure for a few things in my own life... and I hope it comforts my readers, too.Â
15. Year word count:Â
HOLY FUCKING SHIT (excuse my French). I just added up my AO3 word count + my current unpublished project, and... my word count is:
428,557.
FOUR HUNDRED AND TWENTY-EIGHT THOUSAND, FIVE HUNDRED AND FIFTY SEVEN WORDS
I nearly just fell out of my chair. Goodbye, friends. I am deceased.
#wow wow wow#i'm so sorry for the aggressive feelings here#did not mean to get that effin detailed about my life#but i can't help that my emotions are wildly fluctuating as I fight so many health issues at once#anyway#still on hiatus but#this questionnaire thing soothed my soul#and i enjoyed doing it#thanks for the tag sof!#love you all#about cynthia#personal
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livinâ for the hope of it all
Fun Fact: This is probably my favorite track from folklore (betty is a close second and theyâre actually connected in the same storyline) so I created an AU College Sweethearts Jolex storyline just for this. I also needed to change things up because my fics for this week were feeling repetitive, but the good news is that I actually love the storyline and this piece!
(And while weâre at it, shout out to @odd-birds-and-booksellers for beta reading this and helping me clean this up for yâall. ILY and youâre the BEST!)
Also oops I slated this as angst and that just absolutely did not happen. Itâs pretty fluffy but uh warning the ending is not happy⊠at all⊠So sorry about that. So without further ado, the folklore fic that stole my whole entire heart!
But I can see us lost in the memory
August slipped away into a moment in time
'Cause it was never mine
And I can see us twisted in bedsheets
August sipped away like a bottle of wine
'Cause you were never mine
âAlrighty boys, can I get anything else for you?â
âYeah how about your number, sweet cheeks.â
Jo rolled her eyes, used to the degrading remarks she would often get as a waitress in the greasy diner. The table of young boys didnât bother her, they were a dime a dozen working in a college town and it was a sure bet that one of them would say something stupid or degrading to Jo.
Ignoring the comments and laughs from the table, Jo began to walk away but didnât get very far. The boy closest to the edge had tugged her arm hard enough that she went flying backwards, landing in his lap as one hand came up to hold Jo in place against him.Â
âAw come on baby, donât you want this,â the boy was speaking directly into Joâs ear, a clear attempt at seducing her that was failing miserably. She tried desperately to squirm out of his grasp, but he only held her tighter. âI can show you a good time.â
âHey dick wad, it doesnât take a genius to realize that the lady doesnât wanna talk to you,â a gruff voice sounded above Jo, the speaker holding his hand out to help Jo up. She took it with a grateful smile and stood, wiping off her apron while he continued to stare down the table of now terrified boys. âAnd donât forget to tip generously.â
Jo watched in amazement as the man went back to his spot at the counter, eyes trained on the newspaper before him. She rounded the diner once more before walking behind the counter to stand in front of the mystery man, refilling his coffee as she eyed him.Â
âThanks for doing that. Those losers canât take a hint sometimes,â Jo offered her hand to the stranger, a small smile on her face. âIâm Jo, by the way. Iâve never seen you around here before.â
âAlex,â the man shook Joâs hand, a crooked grin appearing on his stoic face. âI just finished med school last month, I finally have time to eat breakfast and enjoy a Thursday morning.â
Joâs response was cut off by her boss yelling at her, her hand coming up to wave to Alex before she bolted to the other end of the diner. Her eyes flicked back to him once or twice, always finding him staring back already. The small action left Jo with a near constant blush on her cheeks.Â
By the time Jo makes it back around, Alex is gone. His empty coffee cup sits on top of a $20, which she grabs with a grin. A corner of the newspaper rests on top of the bill, neat block printing across it that makes Joâs cheeks flame once again.Â
âIf you get sick of stupid frat boys, give me a call.â
+
âI hate to say it, but you might be better at darts than me,â Alex let out a chuckle and grabbed his beer, taking a long swig from it as he turned back to Jo. âYou have nothing better to do than practice your aim?â
After her shift at the diner, Jo had sat in her car and hesitated all of thirty minutes before calling Alex and asking him to meet up with her at the bar down the street from her apartment. Nerves flying all around her, Jo had finally made it down to Redâs Bar and Grill, meeting Alex with a wide grin and the first round of beers on her tab.Â
âMmm I practice between classes and work,â Jo rolled her eyes, throwing another dart and hitting just outside of the bullseye. âIâm about to start my last year of school at UI. Architecture degree, the boring stuff.â
âHey hey, I donât judge,â Alex shrugged, eyes glinting with amusement. âIâm sure that doodling buildings is just as thrilling as cutting people open.â
Jo let out a laugh, her eyes roaming appreciatively over Alex for the first time. He wore jeans and a t-shirt that hugged his arms and torso, the dark blue bringing out the flecks of gold in his eyes. The low lighting in the bar didnât help Jo as she tried to concentrate on anything besides the way Alex looked at her, cheeks flushing as she imagined his hands running over her body.Â
âOh you should see me in class, Iâm the only woman in my major so,â Jo blindly threw her final dart at the board, relying on Alexâs shocked expression to tell her that she had hit close to her mark. âHad to find something to beat the boys at, keep their egos at bay.â
Satisfied with the dark look that came over Alex, Jo swigged her beer and took a step towards him, her fingers trailing over the collar of his shirt. Sheâd held back through the three rounds of beers and the pizza theyâd shared, but she couldnât keep her hands off of him any longer.Â
âI donât wanna be too forward but,â Alex finished his beer with one gulp, one hand moving to rest on Joâs hip. âYou wanna get out of here?âÂ
âIâve never been so sure of anything in my life,â Jo breathes out, pulling Alex down to kiss her chastely before letting go and walking towards the exit. âCome on, Doctor Handsome. Letâs go.â
+
Two weeks after their first date, Jo is scrambling during the morning rush to touch each of her tables and makes sure theyâre all taken care of. Itâs just her and her boss Nancy working this morning, so sheâs really busting her ass to make sure that she makes good tips. A hand reaches out, swiping her arm delicately and makes Jo sigh in relief. She was so used to the gentle brush against her arm that it felt like second nature at this point.
âHey you,â Alexâs voice is soft, something that Jo can barely hear above the rush of the crowded restaurant. âLong morning?â
âLike you wouldnât believe, Katie called out sick so thereâs only two of us,â Jo groans as she reaches for the coffee pot to refill Alexâs cup. âI have the next two days off though so Iâm just trying to make it through this stupid shift.â
Alexâs hand reaches out and grabs her wrist, holding it for the briefest second before letting her go with a grin. Jo can never seem to control the way her heart beats out of time around the man she just met, but she canât say she hates the feeling of her heart fluttering nervously.Â
âHow about we drive to the lake and spend a day or two up there,â Alex shrugs, as if the idea of spending a few days away with Jo is the most natural thing in the world. âJust the two of us. Iâve got some camping gear and a hard top for the pickup. Weâll make a weekend out of it.â
Joâs eyelashes batted against her cheek, eyes roaming over Alex with a focused stare. They hadnât labelled whatever it was that they were doing (sleeping together, spending nights stargazing in the back of Alexâs truck, meeting up almost every night to drink cheap wine and order whatever takeout was offering a deal, actually just sleeping together) but spending a few days alone was something entirely different. Spending a few days alone was real.Â
âYou know what,â Jo laughed, leaning forward to peck Alexâs cheek. âLetâs do it. Letâs get out of this hellish town, god knows we both need it..â
The crooked smile that appears on Alexâs face made Joâs heart stutter again, the look ingrained in her mind so well that she thought she might be able to paint it from memory.Â
+
âI havenât been up here in years, I didnât realize how beautiful it was,â Jo stood at the edge of the small cliffside overlooking the water just a few feet down. Alex stood behind her, arms wrapped around her waist and head propped against her shoulder as they both admired the beginnings of the sunset reflecting on the water. âIâm glad we came up here.â
âMe too, Iâm glad I get to spend some time with you,â Alex turned Jo around, his hands squeezing her waist as he kissed her gently. âAnd Iâm very sorry about this.â
Before Jo could respond to him, Alex had lifted her off the ground and jumped off the small dirt cliff, plunging them both into the icy water of the lake. When she resurfaced, Alex was already laughing at her shocked expression.Â
âYouâre gonna pay for that, Karev,â Jo laughed, feet treading water as she swam closer to him. âOh youâre so gonna pay for that.â
Alex seized the opportunity in front of him, quickly wrapping his arms around Jo and pulling her body flush with his. His lips meet her neck as she tries in vain to squirm away from him, loud peels of laughter escaping Jo as she let herself relax into Alexâs embrace.Â
Itâs hours later when theyâre laying in the back of Alexâs truck, eyes glued to the sky as they lay wrapped up in one another in a pile of blankets and pillows. Thereâs a discarded wine bottle next to them and the last embers of the fire theyâd built are still glowing. Itâs peaceful and quiet and Jo doesnât think sheâd ever felt so relaxed in her whole life.Â
âThe stars look way brighter out here,â Jo noted as she rested her head against Alexâs chest, eyes closing as he ran his fingers through her hair. âI wish I could stay here forever. Itâs the perfect spot.â
âWell this truck bed is uncomfortable as hell so I donât think us living in the woods would be great on your back,â Alex chuckled as Joâs hand hit his chest with a soft whap. She sat up then, reaching for her overnight bag and digging through it. âWhatâre you doing?â
âI got you something! Itâs not much but,â Jo pulled out an immaculately wrapped box and handed it to Alex with a wide grin. âI figured it might be handy when you become a hot shot doctor.â
Alex cocked an eyebrow at Jo, before unwrapping the box and popping it open. Inside laid a wrist watch, a silver watch face mounted on a thick leather strap. Jo revelled in the crooked grin on Alexâs face as he took it out and handed it to her, silently asking her to latch it onto his wrist.
âItâs vintage, I found it at a thrift store the other day and I couldnât resist buying it,â Jo gushed as she adjusted the strap against Alexâs wrist. âI read somewhere that most doctors want to keep a watch on because theyâre easier to check and more reliable than digital. And it helps with counting seconds an-â
The rest of Joâs sentence melted away as Alex pressed his lips firmly against hers. Jo couldnât help the smile that overtook her, a giggle escaping quietly as Alex leaned her back and pressed her into the truck bed.
âThank you, youâre more than I deserve,â Alex kissed Jo once more before moving his lips to her neck. âMaybe I can show you how much you mean to me.â
âMmmm that sounds like a fun way to end the night,â Jo giggled as Alex moved his lips further down her body. âA really fun way to end itâŠâ +
Once the thrill of their spontaneous weekend trip wears off, Jo is surprised at how normal her relationship with Alex feels. Itâs August now, Alexâs short break between med school and the start of his internship nearing an end. He had applied all over the country, but the county hospital had been the only one to accept him.Â
âI didnât hear back from Hopkins, Mass Gen, Seattle Grace, or UCSF, but they were all long shots anyways,â Alex shrugged, slinging his arm around Joâs shoulder and bringing her closer to him on the ratty couch in her apartment. The movie they had chosen rattled on in the background, neither of them paying much attention to it. âBesides, staying here means I get to hang out with you all the time.â
Jo leaned into Alexâs embrace, eyes closing as she relished the feeling of his heartbeat pounding steadily in her ears. Sheâd become so comfortable in spending so much time with Alex that she didnât know what she would do when he began to work long nights and days at the hospital. Of course, her own classes would begin in two weeks and then who knew where the two would land up.Â
âMmm yeah I donât think I can let you go even if I tried,â Jo felt Alexâs hand slip into her own, squeezing gently as he kissed her head. âIâm pretty sure I love you.â
Jo didn't register the hitch of Alexâs breathing, she didn't even notice that he was staring at her so intently. She had dozed off in his embrace, head heavy against his chest as he watched her carefully. He only moved when his phone began to vibrate in his pocket, stepping into the other room so he wouldnât wake her.Â
âHello? This is him. Umm yeah, yeah absolutely. Iâm definitely interested. I can be there, I will be there⊠Three days? Yup. Not a problem. Sorry, I didnât catch your name. Thanks Doctor Webber, itâs been a pleasure. Iâll see you soon.â
+
âI have to take this stupid Calculus class and I canât drop it and I already hate it,â Jo groaned as she plopped into the seat next to Alex. It was a Tuesday morning and the diner was near empty, allowing Jo a few minutes to breathe easy. âHonestly, Iâm not excited to start classes next week. Iâve been absolutely exhausted the past week and I would rather just sleep until graduation.â
Reaching over, Jo grabbed Alexâs toast and took a bite and then returned it to his plate. She looked at him curiously, watching as he stared deep into his coffee cup and didnât flinch at her quick action. Alex usually swatted her hand away when she stole his food, or at least said something to her. In fact, she didnât think he had spoken more than a brief hello to her all morning.Â
âAre you okay? You seem off today,â Jo rested her hand on Alexâs shoulder, a pang of relief coursing through her as he leaned into her embrace. âWhatâs up? You stressed about your internship? Because youâre going to do great.â
âNo itâs just,â Alex heaved a sigh and turned to Jo, his normally bright eyes a dull brown. He looked sad, upset almost, but Jo couldnât tell why. âYou know I love you, right?â
A brilliant smile took over Joâs face, a distinct glow coming about her as she leaned her forehead against Alexâs.Â
âOf course I do,â Jo pecked Alexâs lips quickly, one hand coming up to rub his cheek. âI love you too. Youâre pretty special, you know that?â
Alex responded with a nod, leaning up and kissing Jo once more. She left the seat next to him after that, checking on her tables and refilling coffees before heading back to him. Alex was shrugging his coat on as she walked up, coffee cup drained and bill paid.Â
âHeading out?â
âYeah I got stuff to do,â Alex pulled Jo in close, lips meeting hers in a kiss that was much more passionate than what heâd normally reserve for the diner. He pulled back and stared into Joâs eyes, a look of longing filling the dark orbs. âI meant what I said. I love you Jo.â
âI love you too,â Jo whispered back, leaning up and kissing Alex once more before patting his chest and stepping away from him. âIâll see you tomorrow morning, Iâm working a double today. Bye Alex!â
âGoodbye Jo,â Alex stood a moment longer in the doorway of the diner, watching Jo carefully as she flitted around the dining room. He took a deep breath and pushed the door open, stepping out into the cool August breeze.Â
+
âHey pretty girl, whereâs your hotshot boyfriend now? Dipped out on you?â
Jo tried as much as she could to tune out the catcalls and insults flowing from the rowdy table of boys behind her. What she would give for Alex to come swooping in to save her like he did that first day theyâd met, but she knew that he wouldnât. She hadnât seen him in so long, the August weather turning darker and colder as the months shifted to autumn. It was November now and between classes and the diner, Jo barely had a spare moment to think of the man sheâd fallen in love with.Â
Except that she did.Â
Every minute of the day all Jo could think about was Alex and how much she missed him. His phone number had been disconnected, his apartment was cleaned out, and she hadnât seen his beat up red pickup truck since it was parked outside of the diner the last day sheâd seen him. Sheâd even gone down to the county hospital to look for him, but a nurse had informed her that there wasnât anyone under his name working there, much to Joâs dismay.Â
She knew she was being stupid, that Alex and her had just had a fleeting summer romance and she needed to let it go. There was not going to be a magical reunion like the beginning of Grease, there would be no singing and there would be no happy ending for Jo. But she couldnât let Alex go, she didnât think she would ever be able to.
âYou need to calm down, I know thereâs a lot going on, but you are not helping me out,â Jo sighed, eyes closing as she took a moment to press a hand to her protruding stomach. âI know you get excited when weâre here but today⊠I canât deal with the constant kicking of my bladder little boy.â
You know when youâre already down and out and then something comes along and just knocks you flat on your ass? Thatâs exactly what Jo was experiencing. After spending two weeks straight crying over Alex and insurance commercials and the grocery store being out of strawberry ice cream, sheâd finally realized that her period was late and that she just might be carrying the child of a man who didnât want to be found by her. Three stupid plastic tests later confirmed just what Jo had thought: Come April of next year, she would be a mom.Â
âWeâll get through today and all the days coming,â Jo sighed as she spoke to herself, a few tears slipping out and dragging down her cheeks. âItâll all be okay, things will change for us.â
#jolex#tsjolexweek#alex karev#jo wilson#jo karev#greys anatomy#jolex fic#jo x alex#nina writes#jolex fanfic#greys anatomy fanfic
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Priceless: 8/9
I was planning on this being the last chapter, but I simply couldn't fit in everything I wanted to do, so there will be one more. I also couldn't resist this cliffhanger. Just don't hate me! *hides* Although you can partially blame my wonderful beta, @xhookswenchxâ. She encouraged me when I mentioned doing a cliffhanger. Though she did yell at me once she actually read it ;)
I also noticed a huge error. I had Will Scarlett in earlier chapters as Killian's contact for the job. Then he popped up again in the last chapter as a cabbie! Oops! That's the problem with taking months to update. I loved Will as the cabbie, though, so I went back and changed the sketchy contact to Jefferson. I think it fits better, actually.
Summary: Desperate men often find themselves in places they never thought they would go, but for Killian Jones it would finally force him to be the hero his daughter always thought he could be. The job was simple: drive the truck, donât open the back, donât ask questions. But Killian Jones has never followed instructions very well âŠ
An AU of the movie Priceless starring Joel Smallbone of For King and Country.
Rating: M for themes
Trigger warnings: This story is about human trafficking so there are discussions of rape and non-con, some of it involving minors. None of it is portrayed as positive nor is it graphically described. If you have any specific questions or concerns before reading, feel free to message me.
**in this chapter specifically, there are depictions of violence**
THERE WILL BE A HAPPY ENDING, I SWEAR!!!!
Also on Ao3 as part of my movie au series Captain Swan is My Favorite Rom Com: 2nd Edition. There is also a First Edition.
Tagging: @snowbellewells @whimsicallyenchantedrose @kmomof4 @welllpthisishappening @bethacaciakay @teamhook @let-it-raines @wellhellotragic @winterbaby89 @kday426 @ekr032-blog-blog @shady-swan-jones @sherlockianwhovian @shireness-says @spartanguard @scientificapricot @stahlop @delirious-latenight-laughs @resident-of-storybrooke @vvbooklady1256 @tiganasummertreeâ @nikkiemmsâ @jennjenn615â @profdanglaisstuffâ @shipsxahoyâ @cat-sophiaâ @artistic-writerâ @thejacketandthehookâ @hollyethecuriousâ @ultraluckycatndâ @branlovestowriteâ @dassalaâ @allofdafandoms-blogâ @snidgetsafanâ @pocket-anonâ @optomisticgirlâ @flslp87â @onceuponaprincessworldâ @courtorderedcakeâ @superchocovianâ @distant-roseâ
Chapter Summary: After rescuing Emma from the spa, Killian faces dire consequences for his actions.
The cabbie Will whistled in admiration as he turned onto the drive to David and Mary Margaretâs place. I agreed with his assessment - this wasnât just a home, it was a ranch, and a large spread at that. The cab drove beneath a stone archway. Swinging from the center of it were scrolling iron letters that said âMisthaven Farm.â The land up on these hills was more lush, and there were several smaller buildings lining the long drive that took us up to the house. I assumed they were barns and stables, though no animals were visible at this hour. Will parked the cab in a circular drive right in front of a two story house built of uncut stones and raw timber to give it a rugged air. It was large, but not massive, just the right size to be welcoming and homey.
Will whistled once again when I paid him handsomely for the long ride, much more than was necessary. I wasnât just paying him for driving. I was paying him for being a good man, one who would ask questions to ensure the safety of an inebriated woman in his cab. And despite my desperation to make a way to be with my daughter, I could no longer keep the money Gold had given me. It was dirty, and I wanted to be rid of it as quickly as possible.
Emma still couldnât walk, so I scooped her up again and carried her to the Nolanâs front door. Mary Margaret opened it before I even reached the front stoop, rushing forward with a gasp despite the phone pressed to her ear.
âOh my God, um, Regina, Iâll have to call you back!â She hung up, her hands fluttering around Emma as if she wanted to help her but wasnât sure what to do. âWhat happened?â
âI found her, and I couldnât just do nothing.â
It wasnât the greatest explanation, but I was more concerned about Emma. Mary Margaret motioned towards the stairs and I followed her up. Emma lifted her head, but her eyes couldnât seem to focus on anything. She mumbled something, then her head lolled back onto my shoulder.
âThey drugged her.â Mary Margaret wasnât asking a question.
She led me into a modest bedroom at the top of the stairs. It held only a full size bed in one corner, a small dresser, and a desk pressed against a wall. Opposite the bed was a door that led to a small bathroom.
âThis isnât much,â Mary Margaret explained, âbut I thought she might be more comfortable here.â
Frankly, I didnât think Emma cared where she was. I deposited her gently onto the bed, slipped the glittery gold stilettos off her feet, and edged her under the covers. I tucked her in like I often did for Alice, but stopped short of brushing a kiss to her temple. I turned to go, but Emma surprised me by grabbing my hand.
âPlease stay,â she whispered.
I glanced over my shoulder at Mary Margaret. She cast her gaze pointedly to the floor and arched a brow. I got her meaning fully and eased down to sit on the floor by Emmaâs bed.
âAs you wish,â I whispered to Emma.
She let out a shuddering breath and then her whole body relaxed, though she didnât release my hand. When Mary Margaret slipped out, she left the door cracked open. I stayed there with Emmaâs hand grasping mine, my head resting against the edge of the bed. I didnât think I would be able to sleep, but somehow, my body relaxed and I dozed off.
When my eyes opened again, the light of early dawn streamed through the window, and I realized Emmaâs weeping had awakened me. She had released my hand at some point, and when I turned my head I found her curled into the fetal position, facing the wall. I rose up on my knees and placed my hand tentatively on her upper back.
âEmma?â
She tensed, and I withdrew my hand. A heavy silence filled the room, but I didnât know how to comfort her or what to say. Finally, she rolled over, clasping the blanket tighter around her frame. It enveloped her like a cocoon, and I cursed myself for not asking Mary Margaret to help her change her clothes the night before. The skin tight red dress Emma wore beneath the covers barely contained her curves and couldnât have been comfortable. A shiver rocked her frame, and I winced.
âIâll get Mary Margaret,â I finally said, rising quickly to my feet.
âNot yet,â she whispered, then pressed her eyes shut as more tears spilled down her cheeks.
I stood there, feeling helpless and awkward. I noticed an extra blanket draped over the desk chair, and grabbed it. She was still shaking, so I draped the blanket over her, careful not to touch her. It wasnât enough, but it was something.
âI donât deserve to be here,â Emma whispered.
âWhat do you mean, love?â I asked, sinking to the very edge of the bed.
âMy sisters. I donât deserve to be here when theyâre still -â her voice broke as if she couldnât bring herself to say it. âIâm an awful person.â
âThatâs not true.â
âIt is! Because Iâm here, and theyâre not, but I . . . I feel . . . â
âRelieved?â
She pressed her eyes shut, as if ashamed of herself. âI was so relieved to hear your voice at the spa. I shouldnât have called out for you.â
âIâm glad you did.â
Emmaâs eyes flew open suddenly, and she scrambled up, shoving me aside as her feet hit the floor. She struggled to stand, with both blankets still wrapped around her, but she swayed and I had to help her sit back down.
âCareful,â I admonished, âI donât know what they gave you, but it may take awhile for the effects to wear off.â
âI donât know either,â she whispered, dropping her head to her hands, âbut after the first time, they didnât have to force the pills down my throat. It . . . numbed things, and sometimes if I passed out . . . it was better that way.â
I blinked back tears at the defeat in her voice, and I couldnât help it any longer. I pulled her next to me and held her close. I whispered nonsense meant to comfort as I stroked her hair. Just empty words, but she clung to my shirt nevertheless, and I prayed that they helped.
âI have to go back. Gold may be mad, but heâll take me -â
âOver my dead body.â
Emma pulled back sharply. âKillian, I have to! Elsa is still sick, Annaâs just a kid -â
I stilled her words with a finger to her lips. âEmma, do you really think theyâll honor their word?â
âAt least Iâll be with them! Besides, what options do we have? Weâll be arrested. Deported.â
âYou donât have to be.â Mary Margaretâs voice spoke from the bedroom doorway, and Emma and I turned to her in surprise. âThat phone call I was on when you got here last night? It was my stepsister, Regina. Sheâs an immigration lawyer, and she says that victims of trafficking by law canât be deported.â
âBut Iâve heard stories from the other girls,â Emma protested, but Mary Margaret cut her off as she sat next to her on the bed and took her hands in hers.
âYes, some do get deported, I wonât lie, but thatâs usually because they donât know their rights. Or theyâre too afraid to speak up against their traffickers. Sometimes the law doesnât understand what trafficking looks like. Itâs not always kidnapping and locked doors. Itâs manipulation, fear, and sometimes even Stockholm syndrome.â
Emma nodded. âThereâs a girl there in the house - Ivy. She thinks Neal really loves her; thinks the brothel is a family.â
I could tell Mary Margaret was forcing back tears, and I thought of her daughter. Mary Margeret cupped Emmaâs face in her hands. âBut thatâs not you. Thatâs not your sisters. Not only that, youâll have Regina. She says sheâll represent you, pro bono.â
Tears poured down Emmaâs face. âWhy would you do this for me?â
Mary Margaret shrugged. âFaith means we care for those who can not care for themselves.â Then she leaned forward and pressed a motherly kiss to Emmaâs head. âNow,â she said, forcing a smile upon her face. âIâve put towels and a change of clothes in the bathroom over there. They may not fit perfectly, but I thought theyâd at least be comfortable. How about you shower and then Iâll fix you some breakfast?â
Emma gave the other woman a wobbly smile. âThat sounds nice.â
After Emma rose and shuffled into the bathroom, still wrapped up in the blankets, Mary Margaret gave me a weighted look. âI need to talk to you,â she whispered, and dread coiled in my belly.
I followed her wordlessly downstairs and into the kitchen. I almost tripped over my own feet to see David sitting at the kitchen table with a wet towel pressed to a gash on his head. I looked frantically around the room, my dread only increasing.
âWhereâs Liam?â
Davidâs jaw clenched as he forced himself to meet my gaze. âWe were run off the road by an unmarked SUV. We slammed into a ditch, and I hit my head. When I came to, Liam was gone.â
I looked frantically around the room. âThey know where we are?â
David shook his head. âI hitchhiked home in a farmerâs pickup. We werenât close enough to the ranch for them to put things together.â
I sank to the chair next to David. âThey just wanted Liam then.â I didnât even ask why - all three of us already knew.
My phone, still in my pocket, rang. My hands shook as I answered it, and the voice on the other end made my blood run cold.
âHello, Romeo. Thatâs quite the rescue you pulled off.â
âGold,â I ground out, âwhat do you want?â
âI want my property, naturally. Iâm assuming you want your brother. Alive, preferably?â
I pressed my eyes closed as the words hit home. When I opened them, David and Mary Margaret were right by my side. Liam? Mary Margaret mouthed, and I nodded.
âWhat are you asking?â I finally managed to ask.
âA trade. My girl for your brother. Simple as that.â
My mind spun as I tried to come up with a plan. When it finally came to me, it sounded crazy, but if I played my cards right, it could work.
âNot so fast,â I answered him, adding an edge to my voice. âI know how valuable Swan is. A tradeâs not good enough.â
âI donât know that youâre in a position to negotiate,â Gold snapped. âI can put a fucking bullet in your brotherâs head.â
I tsked, âCome now, Gold, donât be hasty. The way I see it, Iâve got plenty of evidence that I can take to multiple government agencies. Trafficking, immigration violations, drugs - would you like me to continue?â
âWhatâs your point?â he growled.
I paced, my gaze focused on the tile in the Nolanâs kitchen. âIâll give you Swan, but I want more than my brother back. I want her sisters too.â
Gold barked out a laugh. âWhy in the world would I do that?â
âElsaâs sick, and itâs gonna cost you to get her well, or you would have done it already. Once sheâs well though, she can make me some serious money.â
âI thought you were in love,â Gold replied dryly.
âThatâs what I wanted her to think,â I sneered, âand it worked. I had her eating out of my hand. She was good, Iâll say that, but sheâs not the only blonde in the world. Iâve seen the money that can be made in this business.â
âAnd you want in.â
âWith you? Hardly. I want to start my own business and with a blonde and an underage red head? I can.â
âThe bid on the black market for that virgin keeps climbing,â Gold countered, âwhy should I give that up?â
âItâs a one time deal, and youâve got other underage girls. I saw their photos at the house. Iâve gotta be in that market too if I want to build my business. But Swan? Sheâs top-tier. Even spoiled frat boys driving daddyâs Lexus canât afford her. Long term, sheâs worth way more than her kid sister.â
âHow did you know that?â
âI have my sources.â
There was a long silence on the other line, and I prayed fervently to a God I wasnât sure even cared about me. But he had to care about a frightened sixteen year old and her ill sister. Right? God if youâre there . . .
âOkay. Meet me -â
âNo. My terms. I donât trust you, Gold. You would double cross me in a heartbeat. I wanna make the trade in a public place. Broad daylight. No tricks.â
Gold growled, but relented. He named a time and a place. I knew it already - warehouses in a sketchy part of town. I shook my head at David, and he frantically scribbled on a piece of paper.
âAnthem Hills Park,â I countered.
âAre you insane? There will be -â
âKids? Families? Exactly. No way you can screw me over in such a public place. Be there WITH Liam and the girls or the deal is off.â I hung up without waiting for a reply and prayed I hadnât just doomed us all.
âDo you think heâll be there?â Mary Margaret asked nervously.
I shook my head. âI donât know, we just have to . . . â I trailed off when I noticed Mary Margaretâs face go pale as she stared at something over my shoulder. I turned to see Emma sitting on the bottom of the stairs, her hair wet from her shower, and her eyes lifeless as she stared at me. âGod, Emma, that wasnât . . . I mean I didnât -â
âI get it,â she interrupted in a shaky breath, âAnnaâs young and Elsaâs sick, and Iâm . . . already used up. Damaged.â
âEmma, no,â I told her as I came towards her, âthat was all just an act for Gold.â
She looked up at me with a tentative smile. âOh, I know that you didnât mean any of that crap about the business. But letâs face it, Killian. You have to save our siblings, and Iâm willing to do whatever it takes. We canât let Gold hurt them.â
I sank to the step next to her and took both of her hands in mine. âI was bluffing with every word of it, Emma.â
âWhat? But -â
âNo buts. I canât let Gold hurt you either. Not anymore.â
***********************************************
Later that afternoon, I pulled into the lot at Anthem Hills Park. The day was gorgeous, and the park was filled with people. Children scampered about on the playground, their happy squeals ringing in the air. Parents sat and chatted on benches while others pushed strollers down the walking trails. Right next to the slides, on a park bench, were Gold and his son, Liam and the girls sandwiched between them, just as promised. Their backs were to us, and I swallowed nervously as I pulled Davidâs handgun out of the glove compartment. I set it on the dashboard and took a deep breath before fixing my gaze on Emma.
âDo you trust me?â
Emma nodded, but more than that, her eyes were blazing and her jaw was set in determination.
âAlways.â
I nodded in return, then shoved the gun into the waistband of my jeans. Emma turned to open the car door, but I stilled her by gently grasping her hand. I rubbed my thumb tenderly over her knuckles as her eyes met mine.
âI donât know how this will all play out, so I just need you to know . . . not a moment has gone by since we met that I havenât thought about you.â
She searched my face, then her lips turned up in a teasing smile. âGood.â
I returned her smile, buoyed by the pleasure I saw in her eyes. We both exited the vehicle, and I pulled Emma close to my side as we crossed the grass. When we reached the park bench, Liamâs eyes met mine, and I saw a warning in them. He glanced at the girls on either side of him. Elsa, despite the fever trembling through her frame, was stiff and unnatural. Anna was even more so, her eyes wide and frightened. Gold and Neal both opened their coats just enough that I could see the guns they had pressed to the girlsâ sides. I caught my brotherâs eyes once more, trying to reassure him. This was nothing the Nolans and I hadnât anticipated.
âDealâs off,â Gold sneered, âgive us our property - all of it - and weâll let you and your brother be on your way.â
I smirked at Gold. âYou know, Iâve been told that Iâm many things. Iâm too dramatic, I feel too much, I get too attached. I jump in with both feet, and I just donât think things through.â
I pulled out my gun, brandishing it dramatically so anyone nearby could see. As expected, several screams immediately rang out. People started running, people shouted for someone to call 911. I smirked again at Gold.
âPolice will be here any minute Iâm guessing. Crazy guy with a gun at the park tends to draw attention.â
âYouâre crazy!â Neal screamed, leaping to his feet and pointing his own gun right at me. The screams around us grew louder.
I had anticipated this too, and calmly shifted to point my gun back at him. Emma didnât hesitate, but raced to Annaâs side and pulled her out of the way. Liam took advantage of the distraction. He leapt up and barrelled himself into Gold, shoving Elsa out of the way. A gun went off. Elsa screamed Liamâs name.
Then Emma screamed mine. I turned to see her tackle Neal and another shot went off. I was shoved from behind, the arm holding my gun wrenched behind my back. My face was shoved to the ground, and handcuffs were slapped on my wrists. A cop began to read me my rights.
âYou have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law . . . â
From my place on the ground, I saw Emma scramble off Neal, her hands red with blood. Neal lay face first, lifeless, blood spreading beneath him, staining the ground. Anna raced to her, weeping and holding her close. She was safe.
I turned my head to see more blood staining the ground.
Liam lay prone and still, Elsa weeping over him.
#cs ff#cs movie au#captain swan is my favorite rom com#cs priceless au#human trafficking#non-con#rape#but not graphic#happy ending I promise!!!#violence#brothers jones
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WIP Wednesday: 7.8.2020
Oops, itâs Thursday again. X-D
Mystrade
Taking Flight:
Posted chapter 16 to AO3.
Among the Roses:
Finished editing the hard copy, now about to input the edits to the online document, and send to my stupendous beta.
The Ghost in the Graphite:
Been writing like crazy these past couple days. At ten chapters and 28k now.
Like Stars:
Random oneshot, less than 1k, posted to AO3!
Johnlock
Inhale With Ease:Â
edited final two chapters and passed them to the betas!
Posted another chapter to AO3!
Hereâs a little unedited something from The Ghost in the Graphite:
Mycroft is pointedly not looking at the drawings, which tells me heâs seen them. Looked at all of them. Why was he even over here at my desk at all?
âMycroft,â I say.
Mycroft pauses. He rolls the soaked rag into a ball. Picks up the wineglass and stands. Doesnât look at me. âYou have quite an interesting hobby. I knew, despite rarely seeing you hold a pen or paper, you must have spent quite a lot of time with pen and paper.â
âHowâd you know that?â I ask.
âYour right ring finger. The callus over the top knuckle, just venturing on the inner side of your finger. Suggests many years of a writing implement having rested there, having moved there.â His gaze sweeps toward the drawings. âThis, I did not predict, though.â
My cheeks burn. âDid you - did you knock them over on purpose? Trying to...figure out my source for the mask and the symbol?â
Mycroftâs eyes snap to mine. He says nothing. I have caught him red-handed, and thank the gods he will not prevaricate or try to weasel his way out of it. Itâs almost refreshing.Â
He points a finger at the young girl looking over his shoulder in the one and only sketch of him. âWho is she supposed to be?â
I level a gaze at him. Iâm feeling reckless. One thing about having this âgift,â is that it gets lonely. Itâs hard. My da and my grandnan knew, of course. My wife. She thought it was âcoolâ at first, but then it alternately scared her and exhausted her. âWhy donât you tell me?â
His eyes widen. âWhat do you mean by that?â
âSheâs yours,â I say. âYour...familiar, or follower, or...haunt.â
âHaunt?â Mycroft says, his voice incredulous, and his eyes whitening.
âI dreamt of her,â I say. âShe follows you, and I think...I think she might have followed Sherlock once.â I got that sense while drawing her with Mycroft. âSheâs young. Just a little child. But sheâs...frightening, I think. Has power. And sheâs not asking for my help, but she is lingering nonetheless. Sheâs all burnt up -â
âStop.â Mycroftâs voice is harsh. Hard. He looks panicked. Iâve never seen Mycroft Holmes panicked. Iâve seen him concerned, Iâve seen him upset, and Iâve seen him angry and exasperated. Now, heâsâŠafraid? âWho told you?â
âTold me what?â I feel the hairs all across my neck and back stand on end. I feel that nervy edge of a fight coming on.Â
âWho gave you that information?â His voice is thunderous, and his face has changed to one of hatred. I almost flinch beneath his gaze, but I hold it. Iâm no wilting flower. Iâm a man with little left to lose.
âYou did. Or she did. Iâm not sure how it all works.â I almost delight in confusing him, as I watch his brow make tiny micro-movements as his mind whirls to decipher whatever âgameâ he thinks Iâm playing.Â
âThis isnât a game,â he says. I donât know how he manages to read my thoughts so often.
âIâm not playing,â I say. âIâm telling you.â Because itâs hard. Itâs lonely. Itâs helped to ruin my closest friendships and my marriage. It estranged me from my father. And soon enough, itâll push Mycroft Holmes out of my life, too. âI dream things. Sometimes, I draw things. Itâs like something enters me, and I canât help it. I canât stop myself.â I swallow, because this is the truly frightening part. âWhen I draw, itâs like Iâm not even there.â Iâm not even there.
Mycroftâs face contorts into a look of disgust. âYou maintain that you harbour some sort of skill in extrasensory perception, and you expect me to believe it?â
âHow else would I know about her?â I say as I point to the drawing. Mycroft flinches on the word âher.âÂ
âThen, do you know her name?â he asks.
I shake my head no. âShe didnât speak. She only follows you around.â
His face pales. Then hardens again as he places the wineglass on the desk with a clink and drops the rag beside it. âGreg Lestrade, so help me, I -â
âI donât know, okay!â I yell. âItâs been with me all my life, and itâs the most horrible thing; I wouldnât wish it on anyone!âÂ
Mycroft stares at me. âAnd Sherlock? He visited you in your dreams, too?â
I deflate. It kills me to answer. âNo. I wanted him to. I...I would go to Bartâs, where he fell. Iâd stand by the spot, the exact spot, and get nothing. I even went up to the roof and stood at the edge. Iâve been to his grave. Iâve told him to come. Iâve asked him to come. In hopes heâd hear me somehow.â I gesture to the drawings of his face, that pointed gaze sent heavenward. âHeâs never come. So, maybe heâs moved on to wherever people go? I donât know. I had hoped - well, I hoped. But the ones I want to visit me never do.â For a second, I remember my motherâs picture. I keep exactly one wallet-sized photo in a box in the bedroom closet. Billie Lestrade nĂ©e Sullivan. Big smile and a riot of curly hair.Â
Grandnan, too. I thought sheâd come. She never did.
âI sat around and drew Sherlock. Sometimes, I can get the dead to visit when I draw them. He never came.â Somehow I feel like I should apologise to Mycroft for this one. I lift my shoulders and step forward to pick the drawings up. Mycroft steps back.Â
Itâs fine. Itâs what I expected. Get it over with now. After Cass, I gave myself a talking-to. That it was better for someone like me to be alone.Â
My attraction to Mycroft isnât really appropriate anyway.
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The Nuptial Necessity - Chapter 32
A 12xRose Human AU
Despite an unglamorous job description, Rose loves the work she does with The Thistle Foundation, a charity founded by her best friendâs great-uncle. Â It doesnât hurt that her boss, her friendâs father, is easy on the eyes. Â With a great job, wonderful friends and a loving family, life couldnât be better â except for having someone to share it with.
All of that is threatened, though, when the great-uncle dies â and sets a strange condition for his nephew to inherit, jeopardizing the Foundation and Roseâs future, sparking a chain of events that might just get her everything she dreamed of and more.
Chapters will be posted on Saturdays and Tuesdays. Â Many thanks to my beta, @stupidsatsuma
Rated: Explicit, for smut
@doctorroseprompts
AO3 Â | Â Masterlist
â
Saturday morning
The trilling coming from the nightstand woke her, and with an annoyed whine Rose stretched out her arm, searching blindly for the offending mobile. Finding it she brought it to her face, prying one eye open to read the display â it wasnât quite half seven, and it was an incoming call from Clara.
âWhoâs it?â her husband mumbled against the back of her neck, wrapped tightly around her, and she pressed back against him.
âClara.â
His panicked âRose, no,â came too late- sheâd already swiped to answer the call, Claraâs face filling the screen for a FaceTime call instead of the voice-only Rose had expected.
The small box in the corner showing what Clara was seeing told Rose that her best friend would be able to see (and unable to deny) that Rose and Malcolm were in bed together. Oops. âErm, hi, Clar,â Rose offered half-heartedly, wriggling the fingers of her free hand in a wave. âWhatâs up?â
âPlease tell me youâre not in the middle of having sex,â the brunette said faintly, and to Roseâs further embarrassment Dannyâs face immediately popped up behind Clara, his eyes widening for just a moment before he disappeared off screen again.
âWe were sleeping,â Malcolm rolled his eyes, his arm wrapping tighter around Roseâs waist. âDid you need something?â
Clara still appeared stunned, eyes wide and unblinking, mouth slightly open. âWe usually talk at this time,â she managed. âItâs Saturday. I assumed youâd be up- awake! I thought youâd be awake.â She shook her head. âI donât understand.â
Rose bit her lip, glancing over her shoulder at Malcolm, who nodded encouragingly. âWe⊠weâre together. We talked it out and- weâre together.â
âProperly together or fuck-buddies together?â
âClara!â Malcolm protested. âReally.â
Rose elbowed him, smiling nervously. âProperly together. In all the gooey, mushy, lovestruck glory of a forever kind of love together.â
She waited for Claraâs response, anxious â though throughout everything Clara had seemed on board with the idea, had encouraged them both, at the moment of reckoning Rose worried she wouldnât take it well.
âBut you are shagging?â
âClar.â
A wide smile spread over Claraâs face, and she began to squeal. âOh, really? Really really really?â She clapped in delight, turning to yell over her shoulder, âTheyâre in love!â
Dannyâs off-camera reply of âNo shitâ just made them all laugh.
âOh, Iâm so happy for you,â Clara gushed, leaning forward towards her mobile as if that would bring her closer to them. âLast we talked you werenât sure how he felt â what happened? Tell me everything.â
-
He found her in the kitchen of all places, perched on a barstool at the island next to Jack rifling through a familiar box, most of its contents spread on the countertop while across from them, Ianto worked diligently on building a veritable tower of sandwiches for them to take with them.
âHaving fun jewelry shopping?â Malcolm asked, sidling up beside her, but judging by the way she jumped and looked up guiltily, his teasing tone hadnât come through.
âI wanted to bring Clara something, after the way she found out. If thatâs okay,â she fumbled, peering up at him, and he smiled back in response.
âOh, sweetheart.â He brushed a tendril of hair from her face. âThis is all yours as much as it is mine â I was only teasing. Have what you like, and if you want to give it to Clara, thatâs perfectly fine and a wonderful idea. Have you picked anything yet?â Tearing his gaze from her he surveyed the countertop, covered in rings and necklaces mostly, gems sparkling in the industrial lighting Jack had installed as they were technically in the basement.
Relaxing back against him she showed him the few pieces she was considering, and when he pointed to one he thought his daughter might rather like, confessed it was her top contender as well.
âWhat about me, donât I deserve something pretty?â Jack wanted to know, making Malcolm roll his eyes as Rose carefully returned the other jewelry pieces to the box, selection made.
âYouâre the custodian of this place- how would I know what you do with it when Iâm not here?â he shot back, arching an eyebrow at his cousin. âIn fact, Iâd prefer not to know what you get up to, knowing you.â His eyes cut to Ianto, who was doing a poor job of hiding a smirk, though he didnât look up.
Shaking his head, he slipped an arm around Roseâs waist so she had to lean back and tilt her head up to see him. âReady to hit the road, sweetheart?â
She nodded, before scrunching up her face. âMaybe one last walk through the house and gardens first, yeah?â
âI would love nothing more.â
-
They strolled hand in hand, and Rose did her best to soak up everything before they left, only realizing now how little of the house sheâd seen. âI am a little sorry to be leaving so soon,â she confessed, as they stepped out into the garden. âDonât get me wrong, Iâm thrilled about our little tour, but I feel I didnât get enough time here.â
âWell, we can return anytime you wish,â he shrugged. âItâs not that expensive to come up. Or we could even drive once, stay over on our way up. Sightsee in England as well.â
âI love that idea. Maybe I watch too much American telly, but the idea of a road trip always seemed so romantic.â She leaned her head against his bicep. âHave I mentioned lately how happy I am, with you?â
He let go of her hand to wrap his arm around her waist, pulling her tighter against him. âNo happier than I am to have you. Iâve been dreaming of this, of being with you, for⊠a few years now. I never thought it would happen, could happen, but Iâm so happy it has.â
âIâve loved you for so long,â she murmured in reply, slipping her hand around his back beneath his jacket. âIt still feels unreal to be able to tell you that.â
âCan you believe itâs only been a week?â His hand slid down from her waist to her hip, dangerously close to being a (very welcome) grope. âLast Saturday at this time we were getting ready for the Gala, and I thought the night would be perfect if I could hold you for several dances. I had no idea what was to come, but Iâm so happy it did.â
Rose smiled, thinking back to that night â how nervous sheâd been, how sheâd worried that he might reject her. If only sheâd knownâŠÂ âI did.â
âWhat?â He looked down at her, startled, and she laughed.
âIt didnât just happen. I spent all week wrestling with myself, but I decided to shoot my shot as the cool kids say. I deliberately seduced you.â It was fun, watching the emotions play across his face as he digested that, and she was quietly relieved when he settled on stunned delight.
âReally?â
She nodded. âYep. And, youâll love this â it was Claraâs idea. She encouraged me. Donât get me wrong, I wanted to- wanted you- but she convinced me I wouldnât be making a fool of myself.â
âClara? My Clara?â He looked adorably indignant, spluttering slightly. âI donât know if I should be grateful or annoyed at her interference.â Then his brow furrowed. âHow, exactly, did you seduce me?â
âIâm sorry, did you see me in that dress?â
âAnd out of it.â He smirked. âYou were stunning.â
âDamn right. That was the point â I wanted your hands on my skin. And I knew it was going to happen the moment you saw me and did your best impression of a fish. And then you said fuck me.â She smiled at the memory. âSo I did.â
He stopped walking then, turning to her, and then his mouth was on hers, tongue easing past parted lips, and she sagged into him, savoring the freedom to adore him, to let her heart sing with love.
âThank you,â he whispered against her lips, when they finally pulled back for air. Her brain was foggy, everything forgotten but for the taste of him. Her befuddlement must have shown on her face because he chuckled, pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose. âFor being brave enough,â he elaborated. âIâm not sure I would have ever gotten up the courage to try my luck with you- I was too afraid of losing you. Iâd convinced myself Iâd be happier in the long run pining for you with the possibility hanging over my head than if I asked and you turned me down.â
Rose smiled up at him, wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning closer, glancing around the estate â they were alone in the garden, with a wonderful view of the back of the house, and she thought wistfully of the previous owner. âI think we have Wallace to thank, really,â she murmured. âHe saw the truth, apparently, and got tired of watching us stand off to the side, too afraid to jump â so he pushed us.â
He dipped his head to kiss her, a small miracle that grew more familiar with every press of lips, though the familiarity did not lessen the impact he had on her â quickened heartbeat, shallow breaths, and an overwhelming desire to find the nearest flat surface. Not that the last bit was anything particularly new, he had often unknowingly elicited such a response in her, but now, now, she knew he would be in enthusiastic favor of such a diversion.
The future was ripe with possibilities.
-
âWeâll have to keep in touch,â Rose enthused, hugging Sarah Jane goodbye. It was finally time to go, and the woman had been kind enough to come see them off. âI have your email, and Iâll write you once weâre home.â
âAnd call,â the older woman ordered, squeezing her tightly. âI want to hear all about your tour. Well, most of it. No, all of it.â
They shared a smirk that made Malcolmâs ears go red and Jack cough in a poor attempt to hide a laugh.
âWeâve a lot of driving to do todayâŠâ her husband tried to hurry them along, trying to shift Rose using his hands around her waist. âTime to go.â
Rose resisted, though, going in for one more hug. âNext time we come weâll bring Clara,â she promised on the fly. âSo you can meet properly. Sheâd love to hear your stories about your days in uni- especially if they involve her.â
âThereâs plenty of those,â Sarah Jane laughed in response. âNot all of them are ones sheâll want to hear, though.â
âIn that case, I have to hear them.â
Then it was time to say goodbye to Jack, and overcome by an unexpected wave of emotion, Rose buried her face in the manâs broad shoulder. âIâm going to miss you,â she mumbled. âIâm so glad we got a chance to get to know one another.â
âSo am I,â he said kindly as they pulled away, before glancing over her shoulder at Malcolm. âDonât be strangers â weâre family.â
âWeâll be back,â Rose repeated, wiping at her eyes. âThank you for everything.â
âJack,â Malcolm said somewhat stiffly, as Rose leaned into his side, holding out his hand to his cousin.
âMy Lord,â the younger man said in reply, before breaking into a smile. âCâmere.â The two men hugged, Rose watching on with a watery smile. âSo, whereâs the first stop?â
Having played a large part in planning their itinerary, it was an obvious ploy to keep them there a little longer. Malcolm knew it as well, but indulged the delay. âWalk through the Old Town in Inverness, stop for lunch. Rose wants to see Culloden, then weâll drive along the coast down to Aberdeen, stopping along the way as she likes.â
Jack nodded, lips pressed together tightly, a hint of moisture in his eyes. âA fine plan,â he managed. âTravel safe.â
With one more hug it was time to go, Malcolm helping Rose up into the canary-yellow roadster before jogging around to the driverâs side. She waved as they drove off until they were out of sight, before settling back in her seat and resting her head on her husbandâs shoulder.
âWeâll be back soon enough,â he promised, taking one hand off the wheel to pat at her knee. âThereâs lots more to Scotland to explore.â
She nodded, watching the town of Bonnar Bridge fly past, before sitting bolt upright, eyes widening. âHey!â
âWhat?â
âHow come weâve been in Scotland for a week and I have yet to see you in a kilt?â
He laughed, the sound bright and cheerful, before shaking his head. âIâve one in my bag, I can try it on for you later if you like,â he offered, grinning.
âGood. I want to find out for myself if itâs true.â
âIf whatâs true?â
Her smile widened, hand landing on his knee before sliding upwards. âWhat you do- or donât- wear under that thing.â
âRose Tyler!â
#bbatcfic#ficandchips#Doctor Who#doctorroseprompts#Human!12xRose#Human!Twelfth Doctor#Rose Tyler#Human AU#AU#The Nuptial Necessity
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Operation Count Chocula
A/N: Idek what this is... you can thank @somefeministtheatrepls for this, based on this post. I changed it up a little! Gets a little cracky and I have no regrets
~2.5k words
Rated T for one (1) mildly dirty joke
Read on AO3
XXX
If someone had asked Blaine his senior year of high school whether he was going to be an active member of Greek life during college, he would have laughed in surprise and told them a solid no. His first year in college proved that his stance wasnât as firm as heâd initially thought.Â
Quinn had been the one to recruit him into Nu Beta Kappa. She was in his Reading in Short Story and Drama class, and after working on their final project together, she convinced him to rush NBK. She had pointed out that Greek life wasnât all about parties and hazing, and that NBK focused on serving the community and striving for social equality.Â
Currently, he was in his Junior year of college and in the chip aisle of the local Walmart, standing next to his Big Sister, the aforementioned Quinn Fabray.Â
âI hate shopping for the house,â she lamented. âThere are better things I could be doing with my life at three AM on a Friday night.â
âIsnât it technically Saturday, then?â Blaine pointed out.Â
âArenât Vice Presidents supposed to support their Presidents?â
He mocked a salute at her. âNothing but respect for my President, madam Fabray.â
Blaine suddenly whipped his head around when he heard Santana, their Sergeant at Arms, cry out from the next aisle down. âYou can have this box of Count Chocula when it falls from my cold, dead, hands, Gromit!â
He and Quinn exchanged concerned looks before sprinting down to find Santana. When they found her, Puck and Brittany, two more Nu Beta Kappa sisters, had shown up in support and were standing behind her. Santana had a death grip on the family size box of cereal, but so did the unusually tall boy standing across from her.Â
Blaine recognized him as Finn Hudson, the treasurer for Omicron Sigma, Nu Beta Kappaâs âmasculineâ counterpart. They had the same values as NBK, but NBK had been started by female students who were not allowed to rush OS in the 1940s. In the end, both organizations eventually became co-Ed (all members of OS were âbrothersâ regardless of gender, and likewise, all members of NBK were âsistersâ). However, they never did quite seem to overcome that bad blood between them.
There were four more members of OS standing behind Finn. A blond haired guy with a large mouth, a dark skinned girl with curly hair and a stylish beret, a short girl with bangs, and...
Blaine made a sharp intake of breath because standing next to the girl with beret was the most gorgeous guy heâd ever seen. He was wearing a grey hoodie with Property of ÎÎŁ printed in athletic font in the front, on top of checkered pajama pants. His hair, though disheveled from an obvious lack of sleep, was still light and had bounce to it. His eyes crystal blue eyes were half lidded, and seemed sunken in with drowsiness.Â
Blaine thought he looked fantastic.
âThis cereal is for my girlfriend!â Finn exclaimed, tugging the box closer to his chest.Â
âYeah, well this cereal is for my girlfriend!â Santana snapped back, tugging it closer to her chest in return.
Finn furrowed his eyebrows, unsure of what to do next. He turned his head back to nameless hot guy, still clutching the box. âWait, Kurt, do I have to give it to her because of like, gay rights?â
The boyâKurt, apparentlyâpinched the bridge of his nose and sighed deeply. âYou donât have to, but you should so we can go the fuck home.â
âNo,â Finn grunted. âThis is a matter of pride now. I clearly had the box first. Iâm not going to let Nu Beta Kappa just take anything they want. Again.â
Uh oh. Last semester, Omicron Sigma and Nu Beta Kappa had both been planning an end of the banquet for members and tried to get the same venue for the day after finals ended. Santana had been president at the time and finessed her way onto the Cherry Tea Tree roomâs schedule. Clearly, certain members of Omicron Sigma took it personally.
âWell, all we wanted was equal rights some seventy odd years ago, so I think things even out!â Santana said.
âLord Tubbington owes a lot of money and he needs the Count Chocula to cope,â Brittany said in a panic.
From across the aisle, Blaine saw Kurtâs cheeks redden at the spectacle and wondered if the heat rising to his own face was now visible. He loved his friends, but god, were they extra as hell. He and Kurt exchanged glances that were equal parts amusement and horror.Â
âIâll arm wrestle you for it,â Santana challenged.Â
Finn burst out into uproarious laughter. âYouâre like, half my height. I think I can take you.â
âThen come on,â she sniped. âPut your Count Chocula where your mouth is!â
Kurtâs jaw dropped and he looked over to Blaine, gesturing to Finn as if to say Can you believe them?
Blaine nodded along and raised his eyebrows as if to say, I know, right? He was glad to see his gesture gain a smile from Kurt. He would have stayed the rest of the time staring at Kurt if Santana and Finnâs match hadnât been so distracting.
When Blaine looked back towards them, they had their elbows on the empty cereal shelf, hands fastened in a deadlock against the others.
Finn pressed his arm down against Santanaâs.Â
Three of the four of Finnâs fraternity brothers cheered him on behind him. Likewise, Quinn, Puck, and Brittany all egged Santana on. Their collective shouts of growing excitement was a stark contrast to the silence in the rest of the store. Blaine was honestly surprised a manager hadnât come to usher them out yet. But, he supposed, it was a college town. There are weirder things that happen in a grocery store at three AM.
It seemed like Santana was about to lose, but she must have tapped into strength that came from repressed rage and in a quick surge, pinned Finnâs arm against the metal.Â
He looked at her, aghast by the outcome of the match.Â
âOh thank god, can we go home now?â Kurt asked.Â
âAbsolutely not!â Rachel screeched.Â
Kurt groaned and threw his head back in frustration before letting it fall against the cart. He lifted his head up and mouthed to Blaine, Theyâre insane.
Blaine let out a chuckle and pointed to his friends, who were now exchanging obnoxiously celebratory high-fives with their champion. I know, he mouthed back. Them, too.
The short brunette stepped forward and hiked up the long sleeve of her blouse. âLetâs go, Satan.â
âRachel, there is no way you can take her,â Kurt mumbled.Â
âJust watch me.â
âYouâre on, hobbit,â Santana growled.
If the first match had been short, this one had gone by at lightning speed. Blaine actually flinched when Rachelâs arm slammed against the metal.Â
âNo fair!â She cried. âI just... wasnât ready, thatâs all!â
Blaine stifled a laugh and rolled his eyes, making sure that Kurt could see him. Kurt returned the smile and shook his head. âCome on, guys.â Kurt said. âShe won fair and square.â
Rachel pouted and crossed her arms before turning away and heading off into the other direction.Â
âYou know what,â the girl with the beret said. âWeâll see you next week.â
âWe look forward to it, Mercedes!â Quinn huffed. Blaine gave her a condescending glance before rolling his eyes and leading the way to the front of the store.
Try as he might, Blaine couldnât get the goofy smile off his face every time he imagined the interaction he just had with Kurt. Yes, it hadnât seemed like much, and they hadnât even spoken a verbal word to each other, and yet Blaine still found himself wondering if he should try and find the Omicron Sigma group before they left to try and get Kurtâs number.
âHey Blaine,â Puck said, snapping him back to reality. âThe water bottles are right there,â he said, pointing to a nearby stack.
âHuh?â
âThe water bottles,â Puck repeated, stone faced as if Blaine should know exactly what he meant. âTo quench your thirst for porcelain back there.â
He scoffed. âShut up,â he grumbled, feeling his face warm. Blaine eventually decided against going to find Kurt right now, knowing heâd never hear the end of it from his friends.Â
If it was meant to be, theyâd cross paths again.
XXX
Noah Puckerman invited you and six others to join the secret messenger chat: Operation Count Chocula
Santana: What the hell is this, Puck?
Rachel: Who put me in a group chat with the devil herself?
Quinn: Iâm with them on this one. Explain yourself, Noah.
Finn: Why am I in a group chat filled with NBKs!?!?
Puck: Listen here cumslut, we donât want to mingle with you just as much as you donât want to mingle with us. But itâs time we set aside our differences for a greater purpose.Â
Mercedes: What the hell is he talking about?
Puck: True love.
Quinn: Oh dear god what the fuck
Sam: Is this about how Kurt and Blaine are clearly in love?
Brittany: Yeah, I picked up on that, too.
Puck: Yes! They left without each otherâs numbers.
Finn: And why should we help you?
Puck: You wouldnât be helping *me* youâd be helping them.
Puck: Besides, if we donât do this, then weâll probably have to endure like weeks of them stalking each other on Facebook, running into each other on campus and being too shy to make a move and then one of them will get a boyfriend because they think the other isnât interested and itâll all go to shit just TRUST ME
Quinn: That was a very⊠thorough⊠explanation.
Satan: WHO CHANGED MY NICKNAME TO THIS?
Benz: Finn, change her name back.
Benz: Wait a hot damn second.Â
RyanSeacrestFan101: Lay off, I got that tattoo when I was 18!
Bottle Blond: MY HAIR IS NATURAL
Disaster Hair: Hey, my mohawk is iconic!
Yentl: First off, I am honored to share a name that Barbra once used on the stage. Secondly, whoeverâs doing this, KNOCK IT OFF
Finn: I changed Santanaâs name⊠Iâll change it back
Santana: Oh, my bad. I changed Mercedesâs name because I thought she changed mine.
Mercedes: Oops⊠I changed Quinnâs.Â
Quinn: Alright, I changed Samâs.Â
Sam: I got pucksâŠ
Puck: And I plead the fifth.
Puck: Can we get back to business please?
Rachel: Sure⊠what did you have in mind?
XXX
One Week Later
Quinn: This the dumbest plan ever
Liked by everyone in the group
Sam: So dumb, it just might work
Liked by everyone in the group
XXX
Kurt was one aisle over when he heard his brother call out an all too familiar phrase.
âOh no! Itâs the last box of Count Chocula, and someone has grabbed it!â
He rolled his eyes and trudged to the next aisle down. His mood instantly became brighter when he saw the NBK sisters from last week, Blaine in their midsts. He smiled and waved, a gesture that Blaine happily returned.
âSoâŠâ Kurt started when nobody had said anything after a few moments. âFinn, are you going to arm wrestle her for it, or are you going to finally swallow your pride?â
âWell, uh, you and Blaine have to fight for it.â He sputtered out quickly.
âWhat!?â Blaine cries out from the other side of the aisle. âWhy?â
âBecause I canât,â Santana said quickly. Blaine looked at her with confusion. It wasnât like her to turn down a competition. She noticed his suspicion and added, âI uh, pulled my arm muscle.â
âDoing what?â Blaine asked.
She shrugged. âBrittany.â
âI shouldnât have asked.â
âSo in my place,â she continued, shoving Blaine forward. âI choose, our valiant Vice President, who is just always so willing to help a sister out.â
âYeah!â Finn started awkwardly. âAnd-and I canât do it because I have a⊠paper cut?â
âA paper cut?â Kurt asked, his suspicion rising. He folded his arms across his chest. âYou got a paper cut?â
âIt was cardstock.â Finn explained. âBesides, youâre my brother, I need you to have my back on this.â
Kurt gaped at him. âI cannot believe you pulled the brother card in something as stupid as this.â
Finn beamed and pushed Kurt towards Blaine. âYouâll thank me for this one day.â
âI highly doubt that.â
Kurt walked up and met Blaine. âTheyâre insaneâŠâ his judgemental expression softened into one of fondness. âI missed you, by the way.â
âI missed you, too.â Blaine returned his smile. âBut right now, Iâm representing NBK and Iâve kinda been chosen to smack you down like the hand of god.â
âOh, really?â Kurt raised his eyebrows, and gave Blaine a crooked grin. âYouâll regret that. I was going to suggest we just fake a tie, but itâll be a lot more fun just winning.â
âDo you really think you can take me?â Blaine asked cheekily, placing his arm on the metal shelf.Â
âIâm stronger than I look,â Kurt teased back, clasping Blaineâs hand in his. âAfter all, I did have you pinned down in the back seat of my car for the better part of an hour.â
Blaine sputtered at the memory and he lost his concentration, causing Kurt to gain the lead in the match. He smiled slyly. This was going to be an easy match.
âThatâs cheating!â Blaine cried.
âNo,â Kurt said. âThatâs using my assets.â
âI donât need to be reminded of your assets theyâre very memorable.â
âWhen can I see you again?â Kurt asked, relaxing his grip just a bit and feeling Blaine reciprocate.
âIs this not our second date?â Blaine teased. âBreadstix was nice, but three AM at a Walmart is just so much classier.â
âYou should see my bedroom at three AM.â
âWhat?â Blaine lost his concentration and in his moment of distraction, Kurt pressed his arm all the way down to the metal.
âPinned ya.â Kurt grinned, leaning in closer to Blaine.
Kurtâs eyes were magnets, drawing Blaine in closer and closer. âYou, Kurt Hummel, can pin me anytime you want,â he giggled.
Puck cupped his hands together around his mouth like a megaphone. âNow kiss!â It wasnât long before their friends resembled a small picket line, demanding that Kurt and Blaine lock lips by chanting Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! in a steady beat.
âShould we tell them about our date on Thursday?â Blaine asked. âAnd that it went really, really well?â
Kurt quirked an eyebrow. âAnd take all the fun out of it? Yeah, right.â
Blaineâs face split with a wide grin before Kurt fisted Blaineâs shirt and pulled them together, the two rival Greek organizations cheering them on in the background.
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Give you what you craving (branjie) - writworm42
A/N: Title from Big Ole Freak by Megan Thee Stallion. For a friend of mine who Iâm wishing the absolute best <3
Thank u thank u thank u Holtz for beta-ing <3 <3 <3 <3
DISCLAIMER: In this fic, Brooke calls Vanessa mommy in bed without any prior conversation. Donât do that!!! Just because I let it slip here for the sake of the story doesnât mean itâs okay in real life. FIC IS NOT A MODEL FOR REAL LIFE! In reality, before you call your partner by titles during sex, check with them to make sure itâs okay. Always make sure to check in with your partner consistently and frequently during sex!!!
âVanjie? Vanj? Earth to Vanessa!â
Vanessa blinks, coming back to her surroundings just in time to see Asia waving her hand in front of her face, looking bemused.
âIs it just as good as last time she walked by?â Asia jokes, and Vanessa feels herself flush scarlet, her cheeks burning as she tries to think of a comeback.
She doesnât have time to say anything to defend herself though, because their third cubicle-mate, Kameron, looks up from her computer screen, removing her earphones to grin over at her two friends.
âWas she checking out Brookeâs ass again?â Kamâs eyes are lit up with scandal and excitement, and Asia nods enthusiastically.
âHer tits, too, donât think I didnât see you craning to get an eyeful when you first heard her heels, Vanj.â Asia notes, and Kameron lets out a big whoop, one which Vanessa almost hits her for.
âShut up!â Vanessa hisses. âAre you tryinâ to get us in trouble? We supposed to be working on processing those orders for that new cake-baking cookbook, not gossiping about something I most definitely absolutely was not doing. â
âSure, baby.â Kameron snorts, but nonetheless, she and Asia settle, turning back to their own desks to attend to their work. Or at least, Kameron and Asia do - Vanessa herself is, for whatever reasons, struggling to focus.
Reasons that have nothing at all to do with how Brooke walks by again a moment later, and how for a moment, Vanessa swears that she sees Brooke glance at her and smile.
âYou could just talk to her, you know.â Kameron offers kindly, but Vanessa only grunts in response.
Vanessaâs a junior sales rep for the entire cookbook company, while Brooke is a copy editor for the baking section. They may not work together directly, but theyâre still part of two different worldsâone world thatâs just a hair away from being an intern, days spent in a flurry of spreadsheets and scutwork, versus another world that comes with a postgraduate degree and a great deal of respect. Brooke couldnât possibly want anything to do with Vanessa, and pretending otherwiseâŠ
Well, Vanessa would be setting herself up for heartbreak, to say the least. Sheâs sure it would. So itâs better not to get her hopes up; better to just keep things neat and tidy, limit her fantasies to watching Brookeâs ass whenever she walks by and hoping that when she walks back, she might catch another glimpse at that shy, beautiful smile.
âOh, come on, now, donât be like that.â Asia scolds, turning back around. âKam is right, you know. We have that employee mixer coming up, and God knows the woman finds every excuse she can to walk past us all hours of the goddamn day. Just talk to her, Vanj.â
Vanessa snorts, not bothering to look up from her computer. âWhat would I even say, bitch? âHey, mama, you got a fine ass, lemme eat it?ââ
But thereâs no laughter that follows the joke, nor any advice to soothe over the genuine question behind it. Instead, thereâs an uneasy beat of silence, during which Vanessa looks up and realizesâ
Oh no.
Oh God.
Brookeâs standing at the entrance of Vanessaâs cubicle, clutching a manuscript and looking absolutely mortified.
âIâmâOh, God, Brooke, Iâm so sorryââ Vanessa starts, but it only seems to make things worse; Brooke flushes red, mumbles something about sending in some pages as a preview for a prospective client, and then rushes off, leaving stunned silence in her wake.
âOkay, so when I said talk to her, I didnât mean like thatââ
âShut up, Asia.â Vanessa puts her head in her hands, hoping in vain that the floor will swallow her up and never spit her back out.
The rest of the afternoon goes by slowly, shakilyâVanessa can hardly focus, the moment of her embarrassment replaying over and over in her head without reprieve, interrupting any task she tries to take on. Every time she tries to open a new document, her eyes fall down to her desk and onto the manuscript Brooke left her. And every time she tries to open an email, Brookeâs name appears at the top of her alphabetically-organized contact list.
Itâs only when Vanessa finally gets ready to leave for the evening that Brooke fades from her mind, the space that the blonde occupied instead taken over by a list of all the snacks sheâs going to eat and the reality TV shows sheâll binge when she gets home. She waves good-bye to Asia and Kameron, about to shut off her computer and get going, when suddenlyâ
EMAIL FROM: Brooke Lynn Hytes
RE: convo from today
Hi Vanessa,
Meet me in my office in half an hour⊠I want to talk to you about what you said today.
Vanessaâs head spins, her heart stopping dead in her chest and body going cold.
Oh God. Oh, Jesus fucking Christ. Sheâs going to be fired, she knows itâsheâll walk into Brookeâs office, HR will be sitting there to mediate, and sheâll be sent packing before she has a chance to contest the disciplinary action.
Vanessaâs about to write back, beg for forgiveness, or at least some other kind of recourse, when a second email comes through.
EMAIL FROM: Brooke Lynn Hytes
RE: Convo from today - oops
Hi Vanessa,
Just realized that makes it sound like im gonna fire you or something. Lol. Sorry about that. Can you just come by now? Easier to talk in person.
Sorry again.
XOXO,
Brooke Lynn Hytes
Vanessa canât help but laugh a little to herself when she reads the text, her heart starting back up again and nerves dissipating a little. God, the fucking dorkâmaybe things will work out after all.
Maybe.
Probably not the way that Vanessaâs hoping for, though.
She scurries across the floor towards Brookeâs office, not bothering to return the waves and cheerful good nights! from coworkers as she passes. Thereâs only one thing on her mind at the momentâBrooke Lynn Hytes and her ass, and whatever sheâs going to say to her.
Okay, three things, but it doesnât matter. Because sheâs outside Brookeâs office, and the door is open for her to walk through, andâ
And Brooke is sitting at her desk, blushing and shifting nervously in her chair, gesturing for Vanessa to close the door.
âBrooke, I wanna say again, Iâmââ
But Brooke cuts Vanessa off with a shake of her head and a kind smile.
âDid youâdid you mean what you said?â Brooke stands up and walks towards Vanessa cautiously, slowly, her smile still gentle and gaze unwavering. âAbout wanting to rim me?â
Vanessa swallows hard, her heart pounding and mind racing. Brooke is close now, so close that if she reaches out, she could touch Vanessa, box her in against the door, do whatever she pleases with herâ
âYeah.â Vanessa admits breathlessly. Yeah I did.â
âOh, thank God.â Brooke sighs, her shoulders relaxing and face smoothing out in relief. âI was afraid you were joking, andââ
But Brooke never gets a chance to finish that sentence, because before Vanessa can think about it, before she has a chance to stop herself, sheâs leaning up and cupping Brookeâs face and pressing her lips to hers.
The kiss is electric, breathless and passionate enough to make Vanessa feel as if sheâs floating, swept off her feet by Brookeâs lips, her sighs of pleasure when Vanessa tugs lightly on her bottom lip with her teeth. Brooke is gripping her tightly by the waist, pulling her flush against her body, and Vanessa is dizzy, held up only by the will to keep contact with the woman in front of her, entwined with her. She feels along Brookeâs back, down each curve and over every muscle, until finally, her hands sweep over the one thing sheâs been drooling over for what seems like far too long.
Brooke moans, like really moans, when Vanessaâs hands reach her ass, and God, Vanessa would do anything to hear that sound again. She feels along the curve of Brookeâs ass, squeezing and kneading and listening for every little reaction, every repeated moan and little gasp.
âKeepâOh, fuck, Vanessa, keep doing that.â Brooke separates from Vanessa, her eyes hooded and cheeks flushed, voice breathy with effort.
âAinât gotta tell me twice.â Vanessa giggles, and Brooke does too, pulling Vanessa even closer, and sticking her ass out a little and before grinding back into Vanessaâs hand to meet her movements.
âThis might sound weird,â Vanessa starts to propose, before she can second-guess it, âBut can IâŠâ she trails off, her hands suddenly freezing.
How in the hell is Vanessa supposed to ask a woman sheâs barely worked with, who she barely even knows , realistically, to let her spank her?
âCan you what?â Brooke repeats, and Vanessa realizes with a sudden rush of embarrassment and doubt that sheâs already gone too far to turn back.
âCan I spank you?â
Vanessa pulls away, expecting Brooke to look at her strangely, to balk at the suggestion. Ask her whatâs wrong with her, or why sheâd want that.
Instead, she giggles.
âYouâre cute when youâre embarrassed, you know that?â Brooke teases, and Vanessa blushes.
âI had to ask!â Vanessa gives Brooke a playful tap on her ass, rolling her eyes. âYou telling me youâd rather I just popped your ass right then and there without no warning?â
Only, the way Brooke looks back at Vanessa in that second tells her pretty much exactly what she needs to know to answer that question.
âI think we oughta pick this up later.â Vanessaâs voice drops to almost a whisper, her hands clutching tighter at Brookeâs ass and stomach practically flip-flopping with glee and arousal when Brooke goes rigid, leans into Vanessaâs touch again. âSomewhere we can be private, so I can make that cute little ass nice and red.â
âI like the sound of that.â Brooke nods, and Vanessa answers by spanking her lightly again, grinning when Brooke lets out a soft, surprised oh!
âI gotta go home and feed my dog, but how âbout Iâm over at eight?â Vanessa proposes.
âSounds good.â Brooke smiles. âI canât wait.â
âMe neither.â
Vanessa leans up and gives Brooke another quick kiss before turning on her heels, sauntering towards the door with a little extra swing in her step just to tempt the woman watching her walk away.
âOh, and Brooke?â Vanessa turns around at the last second, only to see Brooke snap to attentively.
âYeah?â
âMake sure you nice and prepped for me when I come. And whatever you do, donât touch yourself before.â
Vanessa doesnât wait for Brookeâs answer; she doesnât need to.
She already knows that Brookeâs in the palm of her hand, and now sheâs got to get home and get in the shower.
â
Vanessa knocks on Brookeâs door at 7:59 PM. Almost instantly, the door swings open and Vanessa feels her breath get knocked out of her body.
Brooke is a vision in satin and lace, dressed in a plain top with lace trim and a shiny, thin skirt that barely covers her ass, if it wasnât for the identical lace trim that brings Vanessaâs eyes trailing downward to Brookeâs thighs, pale and toned and begging for Vanessa to grab them.
âYou look beautiful.â Itâs all Vanessa can think to say, but if the way Brookeâs eyes sparkle and her cheeks flush is any indication, itâs the right thing.
âI, umâThanks.â Brooke brushes a piece of hair behind her ear, blushing deeper when Vanessa laughs fondly at the gesture. âUm, dâyou wanna come in?â
âAbsolutely.â Vanessa is already walking past Brooke when she stops to reach up and give the blonde a peck on her cheek.
âBy the way,â Vanessa whispers, grasping at Brookeâs shirt with firm, eager fingers, âYouâre cute when youâre embarrassed.â
The gasp that Brooke lets out as she shivers at the words is in itself enough to switch any thinking part of Vanessaâs brain off, her body moving on adrenaline and instinct as she practically drags Brooke towards the bedroom.
This time when they kiss, itâs slow, less frantic, less desperate. They take their time, exploring each other as they embrace, Brookeâs hands tracing Vanessaâs body slowly and carefully in a way that leaves goosebumps in their wake.
Itâs only when Brooke lays her hands on Vanessaâs ass that a sharp arousal shoots between Vanessaâs legs, and enough is enough.
âGet on the bed.â Vanessa grabs Brookeâs arms and pushes them off of her body, holding firm despite how Brooke tries to bring her hands back onto Vanessa, tries again to grab and feel her. Seeing how her efforts are futile, Brooke whines, tries to lean down to distract Vanessa with another kiss, but Vanessa wonât have it; not now, when her heart is in her throat and she can feel herself getting wetter by the second.
âNo, baby.â Vanessa grabs Brookeâs ass and squeezes hard, using the single moment when Brooke is caught off-guard to walk them backwards until Brookeâs knees are hitting against the edge of her bed. âI said get on the bed, now .â
Brooke whines stubbornly but obeys, grabbing onto Vanessaâs shirt and pulling her down on top of her as she goes.
âEager beaver.â Vanessa rolls her eyes as she picks herself up, kneeling over Brooke to box her in with a knee on either side of her hips, a hand on either side of her head.
Brooke only sticks out her tongue, and Vanessa canât resist leaning down to kiss her again, nipping at her bottom lip and smirking at the soft, surprised squeak that she lets out in response. Vanessa keeps going, kissing along Brookeâs jaw, down her neck, nibbling and licking and sucking experimentally as she pays attention to what makes Brooke tick.
Itâs adorable how responsive Brooke is, how quickly her bratty demeanor fades when Vanessa pins once-again wandering hands down onto the mattress and sucks hard at her collarbone. How she moans and gasps and squirms like sheâs being touched for the first time in years, an appetite whet after laying dormant for just a little too long.
âLift up for me.â Vanessa prompts, tapping Brooke on the side, and Brooke sits up long enough for Vanessa to pull her shirt over her head, revealing the smooth, soft skin underneath.
âReally?â Vanessa smirks, tracing her hand over Brookeâs bare breasts, her nipples already hardened against the roomâs cold air.
âWhy wait?â Brooke shrugs, âWe wouldâve taken it off anyway.â
âSo does that mean youâre not wearing panties, either?â Vanessa lazily traces over Brookeâs tits, circling and flicking her nipples as she lets her eyes trail down to the waistband of her skirt and the promise that it holds underneath it.
âWhy donât you check?â Brookeâs voice is laced with challenge, her face almost smug as she stares up at Vanessa, waiting for her to make good on the offer.
And so Vanessa does, and doesnât regret it.
Brookeâs wearing panties, alrightâones that are white, made of thin fabric that Vanessa can practically see through and trimmed with lace on the waistband and leg holes. Itâs tantalizing, how pure they look, how they contrast with Brookeâs mussed hair and hickey-bruised skin, and Vanessa almost wishes Brooke could keep them on.
âLike what you see?â Brooke grins, and Vanessa has to hand it to herâthe bitch knows what sheâs doing, she really does.
Fortunately, so does Vanessa, and so she knows exactly how to handle the situation.
âFuck yeah, I do.â Vanessa breathes, kissing the nape of Brookeâs neck again, barely-there pecks that make Brooke squirm underneath her.
Excellent.
âNow how about you show me the view from the back, baby girl?â She lifts off of Brooke just long enough to trace a finger along the waistband of Brookeâs panties, watching with satisfaction as Brooke shivers at her touch.
âYes, mommy.â Brooke gasps as Vanessa moves to cup her through her panties, pressing down just a little so she can feel Brookeâs slick soaking through them.
âMommy kink too?â Vanessa canât resist teasing a little as she finally brings her hand away, shuffling back to give Brooke room to reposition herself. âDamn, Miss Hytes, you a freak.â
Brooke blushes deeply. âIâIâm sorry, it just kind of slipped out, usually I talk to people before I do thatââ
Vanessa swallows the rest of Brookeâs ramblings into a deep, affectionate kiss, one that makes Brooke soften enough that Vanessa can ease her back onto the bed again.
âDonât worry about it, kitten.â Vanessa winks, her heart warming when Brooke beams. âNow, turn over for mommy, I wanna play with that pretty little ass already.â
Brooke flips over happy, eagerly lifting her ass off the mattress just a little and wiggling it in excitement.
Itâs too hard to resist; Vanessa brings a hand down over one of Brookeâs cheeks, just hard enough to elicit a small squeak from the woman in front of her.
âWhat?â Vanessa cocks a brow when Brooke looks back and pouts at her. âYou tellinâ me you really ainât expect that, tryna tempt me like that?â As if to make her point, she lands another smack on Brookeâs opposite cheek, and Brooke melts, letting out a sharp exhale and wiggling a little again when Vanessa pulls back, almost as if sheâs trying to ask for more.
âUh-uhn, baby.â Vanessa shakes her head, crossing her arms in front of her. âYou gotta use your words this time, or mommyâs not gonna do nothing to you.â
âPlease, mommy.â Brooke whimpers in response, eyes wide and pleading. âSpank me more, please?â
âOf course, angel.â Vanessa coos, a calm sweetness before the storm she knows sheâs about to unleash.
The next time Brooke squirms, Vanessa lets her spankings rain down, a flurry of impacts that make Brookeâs ass glow with a mesmerizing shade of red. Brooke, for her part, seemed to only take every slap in stride, moaning sinfully and begging for more, more, more.
âAlright, alright, thatâs enough.â Vanessa chuckles when she feels the sting of her hits even on her own palm, instead beginning rub soft, soothing circles along the now-heated skin of Brookeâs ass. âNow what do you say?â
âThank you, mommy.â Brooke sighs contentedly, melting into Vanessaâs gentle touch.
âYouâre welcome, sweetheart.â
They stay like that for a few moments more, quietly enjoying each other, but then Vanessaâs own needs become too much to ignoreâarousal is curling in her stomach, snaking between her legs, building up again until she feels like she might explode. Sheâs about to ask if Brooke is okay, suggest moving things along again, when Brooke speaks up suddenly, beating her to it.
âSo⊠You gonna take my panties off now?â Brooke grins slyly, and Vanessa canât help but laugh.
âSo impatient.â Vanessa teases, but nonetheless moves back near Brooke, tapping her hip to signal her to lift up so that she can ease down her panties, noting with satisfaction the slick, soaked spot that sticks just a moment longer to Brooke than the rest of the fabric, just a little slow in being peeled away.
âBeautiful.â Vanessa breathes it out without thinking, the word rolling off her tongue because it canât stay in, not with Brooke looking like that, laying bare for her like that. Vulnerable and delicate, all hers to enjoy, if only for the night (but God, what a night). At that moment, nothing else is in Vanessaâs mind except the curve of Brookeâs back and the way her hair splays across it, the flush of her cheeks and how they match the shade of her ass. Her smile, eager and warm and already a little blissed, like she knows sheâs safe when sheâs with Vanessa.
âYou want my mouth or my fingers, or you got a strap?â Vanessa whispers, and God, Brookeâs eyes have never looked as beautiful as they have in that moment, when they look up at Vanessa and sparkle, her pupils wide and lids hooded.
âMouth please, mommy.â
Brooke doesnât need to ask twice. Vanessa kisses her way down Brookeâs body again, this time slowly, not teasingly but instead with devotion, her lips carrying admiration for every inch of skin they land on. Apparently, the message gets across, because Brooke seems to relax more with every kiss, her body melting into the mattress, sighing softly every time Vanessaâs mouth touches her skin.
âYou ready, angel?â Vanessa pushes Brookeâs cheeks together, kneading them gently while she checks in, and Brooke nods.
âPlease, mommy.â Brooke begs quietly, and Vanessa smiles, leaving one last kiss on the peak of Brookeâs tailbone before finally spreading her cheeks apart. She takes her time, licking around Brookeâs hole with short strokes, just the tip of her tongue, to find out what makes Brooke tick. She finds quickly that Brooke likes when Vanessa licks closer to Brookeâs entrance, honing in on one spot temporarily just to put her on edge. She shifts her position, brushes against Brookeâs perineum with the tips of her fingers, and Brooke goes rigid, lets out a sinful moan.
âPlease, oh fuck, please, Ness, keep doing that.â Brooke trembles as Vanessa repeats the motion, timing it with a broad stroke of her tongue up Brookeâs crack. So she does, over and over, alternating with swirls around Brookeâs holes and little short darts into it, until Brooke is babbling and whimpering, a moaning mess underneath her that just canât stay still.
âCome on, baby girl, come for me, I know you can do it.â Vanessa growls, continuing her ministrations. âLet me see you come for mommy, wanna see you lookinâ so pretty and fucked out for meâŠâ
Itâs as if the words are exactly what Brooke needed to tip her over the edge; without so much as a moment passing after the words leave Vanessaâs lips, Brooke goes rigid again, her cries cut off into a silent scream that ends with a final fuck before she relaxes again, panting and spent.
âShit.â Brooke laughs breathlessly as Vanessa comes up from her place at the foot of the bed to snuggle at Brookeâs side, nestling into her arms. âThat was amazing , Ness. Thank you.â
âNo problem, baby.â Vanessa feels pride balloon in her chest at the words, but even that is secondary to the feeling of seeing Brookeâs smile, the renewed energy in her eyes even as she lays limp and sated, holding onto Vanessa like some sort of teddy bear.
Itâs all sheâs wanted, reallyâall sheâs been after. Not just Brookeâs ass, or her body, or the way she walks and steals looks at Vanessa at the office.
Just for Brooke to look at her, really look at her. Smile at her. Thank her for something that isnât work-related. See her not as Vanessa Mateo from distribution, but as Vanessa herself, as Vanessa wants her to see her.
âVanessa?â Brooke pipes up again, snapping Vanessa out of her contented daze.
âHm?â
âI asked if you wanted me to return the favour.â Brooke doesnât seem to mind Vanessaâs temporary absence; if anything, she seems entertained by it, the shadow of a smile on her face.
But as kind as the offer is, Vanessa just shakes her head. âNah, baby, Iâm good for now. UnlessâŠâ she stops, biting her lip as her heart kicks up a bit, squeezing its way into her throat as she contemplates her next move.
Itâs a riskâBrooke might very well say no, might very well want to keep their relationship to what it currently is.
But if how theyâve wound up here together is any indication, then itâs worth a shot.
âUnless?â Brooke prompts, and Vanessa takes a deep breath, shoving any doubt out of her mind.
âMaybe you could take me out for a date, and we could see what happens?â
Much to Vanessaâs relief, Brooke doesnât even skip a beat when she answers, a wide grin spreading across her face.
âI would love nothing more.â
#rpdr fanfiction#brooke lynn hytes#vanessa vanjie mateo#branjie#lesbian au#smut#writworm42#tw mommy kink
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Letting Go
AO3
Previous
So itâs Sunday morning here and that means another chapter. Thanks for reading x
thanks to @mo-nighean-rouge for the beta and @happytoobservenolongerdistant
Chapter 7: Crush
It's just a little crush (crush) Not like I faint every time we touch It's just some little thing (crush) Not like everything I do depends on you
Andy Goldmark/ Mark Mueller/Â Berny Cosgrove/ Kevin ClarkÂ
Even before she opened her eyes, Claire sensed the body lying next to her. Hazy recollections of the night before came back to her⊠Jamie's coolness, meeting Frank, the overheard conversation and the final realisation that eight years may have disguised her emotions but time had done nothing to erase them.
And then, thankfully she remembered as she turned over to greet the bed's other occupant, Joe had found her, weeping in her flat. Tenderly he had held her as she cried and then supervised her bedtime routine, making sure she cleaned her teeth and removed her makeup before grabbing a blanket from the spare bedroom and lying next to her on top of the covers, listening to her confessions before, exhausted, she fell asleep.
Opening her very sore eyes, she saw Joe, apparently still asleep, breathing softly, next to her. Claire started to get up, but Joe caught her arm, keeping her on the bed.
âHow are you this morning?â
âNot too bad. My eyes are sore and I desperately need a shower and a mug of coffee, but no hangover⊠yetâ
âClaire, you know what I mean. All that you said last night. How do you feel emotionally?â
âMuch better, yes. Think last night was cathartic.â
Joe looked at Claire and scowled. âThe truth, Claire. Donât be hiding it away. Itâs taken you eight years to get this far.â
Claire sighed. âOk, Joe. Truth⊠truth is, I think I held myself back from relationships, from letting go, because I thought⊠hoped⊠dreamed that heâd come back. Heâd come home and find me. And now he has, he's come home and made it perfectly clear itâs not for me. Living here, Iâll have to see him sometimes, but Iâm not going to live in a dream world. Iâll get past this. Honest.â
Joe raised her hand to his lips. âI know you will. And Iâm here for you. Now you go and make us two incredibly strong coffees, while I hop in your shower.â
With a dehydration headache looming, brought on, no doubt, by a surfeit of both alcohol and tears, Claire stood at the kitchen sink and drank two large glasses of water while she waited for the kettle to boil.
A knock at the door broke her concentration. She wrapped her bathrobe tightly around her and went to answer it, pausing in front of the hall mirror. It was as bad as expected -- red rimmed eyes, pale cheeks and a mass of tangled curls were reflected back at her and she just knew that she probably smelt as bad as she looked.
*******
Nine years ago
âOh god, I must look hideous. Iâm never at my sunniest first thing in the morning.â
âSassenach, all I can see is a woman who, weel, lets jesâ say, made a man verra happy last night. A wee bit of mascaraâs stuck tae yer cheek and yer curls have a mind of their own but ye look beautiful.â
âI can tell how happy by your grin, Jamie⊠and thatâs not the only part of you that seems happy this morning. Ooh, Jamie⊠ooh, yes⊠what are you doing?â
âLie back, Sassenach, dinna move. Fairâs fair. Iâm goinâ tae put a grin on yer face as well.â
*******
Claire peered through the spy hole to see John standing on the doormat. She opened the door and stood back to let him in. Fortunately, he looked as rough as Claire.
âMorn...â John cleared his throat and tried again. âMorning.â
âHow are you this morning?â
His voice had a throaty rasp. He coughed and carried on. âI canât say Iâm feeling my best. Iâve been awake since six. Jamie crashed at mine last night and had to leave to go back to work⊠something to do with a new foal or a mare⊠well, something horsey, anyway. And he couldnât find the key to the front door, so we had to spend ages looking for it and⊠well⊠here we are. I think you look like I feel, Claire.â
Claire led him into the living room. âIt was certainly quite a night. Wonder if I should go and give Anna and Mary a hand cleaning up?â
âI wouldnât bother. Theyâll still be asleep. Besides, Anna has an agreement with a couple of the cleaners from the theatre. They come and sort the flat out, cash in hand. No problem. This is a regular occurrence. Bet the estate agent didnât tell you that -- happens whenever Mrs. Crook goes off to visit her daughter in Edinburgh.â
John sat next to Claire and continued. âThatâs not why Iâve come. I need to ask if youâre ok with somethingâŠâ
With years of practice, Claire heart automatically leapt a little bit.
âI know you were talking to Frank last night. Frank Randall? Yes?â
The leaping in Claireâs chest stopped. She nodded in agreement.
âHeâs asked me for your phone number. I didnât want to give it to him without asking you first. Is that ok? He seems like a decent chap.â
Time to move on, she thought to herself, have to start somewhere. âYes, why not?â
*******
Joe waited until John had left before he made an appearance, now smelling delightfully of Claireâs LâOccitane Citrus verbena shower gel.
âI decided not to disturb yours and Johnâs tĂȘte-Ă -tĂȘte. I plan on being introduced to him when Iâm feeling less hungover and heâs not looking so rough. What did he want, Claire?â
Claire passed a mug of coffee to Joe and nibbled on a piece of dry toast. âThat chap, Frank, I was talking to him last night, asked John for my number. John wanted to check it was ok to give it to him.â
âAnd what did you say?â Joe took the toast from Claireâs hand and consumed it in two bites.
âIâll go and make some more toast.â Claire headed into the kitchen with Joe following.
âWell,â Claire continued. âI said he could give him my number. Frank seemed like a nice chap and following on from our discussion last night, I need to start moving on. Maybe this is⊠what is it⊠karma⊠no, not karma⊠synchronicity. Perhaps itâs synchronicity.â
***************
The coffee shop was, Claire decided as she looked around, an ideal place for a first date. Intimate enough to be able to hold a conversation yet without being forced to share too much personal space. Quiet enough to be able to hear each other clearly yet without a sterile silence around them. Bright enough to be able to see each otherâs facial expression yet without losing a cosy ambience. Â Good call, Frank, perfect first date.
************
Nine years ago
âIâm sorry, Claire, I didna think it would be sae crowded in here at this time.â
âWhat did you say? I canât hear you too well.â
âItâs noâ usually sae busy here. Seems like thereâs a couple of stag parties goinâ on.â
âOops. I didnât mean to lean against you like that, Jamie. People keep pushing past me.â
âLean on me all ye want... This first date isna goinâ verra well... I shouldna have brought ye here. Iâm sorry.â
âJamie, will you stop apologising? I think this date is perfect.â
âMe too, Sassenach, me too.â
********
The waitress brought over Claireâs black coffee and Frankâs tea. Claire watched Frankâs hands as he stirred the tea pot: long, elegant fingers delicately held the spoon, the skin smooth and pale. Totally unlike those rough, calloused hands she remembered so well, tanned from all the hours spent working outside. Stop it, Claire forced her mind away from those thoughts and back to listening to the man in front of her.
Frank waited expectantly, obviously having just asked her a question.
âIâm sorry, what was that?â Claire blushed.
âI was just asking what it was like growing up with your uncle. Did you travel around a lot?â
âOh, yes. Every school holiday it seemed we were heading off somewhere.â
âWhat sort of places did you visit?â
âVaries. Mainly Turkey, but Bulgaria, Ukraine, Georgia.â
âAll around the Black Sea then?â
Claire smiled as the memories of those trips came flooding back. âYes, sometimes  staying in little B&Bs or tiny hotels but quite a lot of camping, especially when a team went over. I can still see Lamb pouring over his copious notes by the light of a single lamp, while I tried to fry sausages on a one-ring gas burner. It was great fun. How about you? You do much travelling in your research?â
âJust to libraries or archives, Iâm afraid. Nothing very exciting.â Frank shrugged.
âBut if youâre writing a book, thatâs exciting, isnât it? I mean, my uncleâs never written a book.â
âWell, yes. I suppose it is. I need to have some outline to John next month, then it may happen. Do you want another coffee?â Frank drained his teacup and looked expectantly at Claire. âOr would you like to go for a bite to eat?â
Claire looked at her watch. âIâm sorry, Frank. I canât. I have to nip home and then I promised Iâd visit Uncle Lamb.â
âOh well, another time? But you donât live far from here. Let me walk you home.â
Claire nodded. Frankâs hand rested lightly on her back as he guided her out of the coffee shop. They walked side by side along the pavement towards Claireâs flat, Frankâs hand brushing against hers with each stride. A few paces later, and instead of the slight touch, Claire felt Frankâs hand clasp hers, cool and dry against her palm. She let it rest there and tried to force her mind away from any comparisons.
As they approached her flat, the sky darkened with the promise of imminent raindrops. They stood awkwardly at the front door, Frank still holding her hand.
âSo, I had a really good time, Claire. I would like to see you again, if you want to.â
Claire smiled, then jumped as a loud crack of thunder was rapidly followed by a sudden downpour. Quickly she fumbled in her bag for her keys, then opened the door. Frank followed her into the foyer.
âSo?â He spun her round to face him. âAnother date?â
Claire nodded. âYes, Frank, Iâd like that. Text me and we can arrange something.â
They stood still for a moment before Frank took a step towards Claire and lightly kissed her mouth. His lips were soft and cool, his mouth practically level with hers, no need to crane her neck or stand on tiptoe to reach. She waited for a moment in anticipation of those long forgotten feelings⊠the butterflies, the tingling, then took a step towards the stairs.
âIâd better go. Uncle Lamb will be waiting for me. Thanks for coffee.â
***************
Jamie waited until they had disappeared from view, Claire to her flat and Frank back out into the rain, before he emerged from Johnâs front door. He hadnât want to intrude on their moment. Although he had noticed, casually through the spy hole, that Claire hadnât leant into the kiss... hadnât seemed inclined to prolong it⊠hadnât moved her hands from her sides. Not that it mattered to him, of course. It really wasnât his business.
******
Nine years ago
âIâm sorry the pub wasna a good idea fer a first date.â
âJamie, donât be sorry. Itâs far too nice an evening to spend in a crowded bar anyway. What could be better than this, walking in a park, sharing a bag of chips?â
âAnd Irn-bru⊠dinna forget the Irn-bru.â
âWell, I must admit, I donât actually like that stuff. You can have the whole bottle.â
âCome here, Sassenach. Yeâve got a wee bit of ketchup on the corner of yer mouth. Let me get it offâŠâ
âHa. I thought you were going to wipe it off with a serviette.â
âOch, no need fer that. Waste of a serviette.â
âJamie, I think Iâve got something here on the other side⊠and a bit here⊠and here⊠mmmâŠâ
âYe must be an awfa messy eater, Sassenach. So many kisses needed.â
âSorry, is that too many for you to handle?â
âI dinna think it will ever be too many fer me, Sassenach.â
#outlander fanfic#outlander fan fiction#letting go#Jamie Fraser#claire beauchamp#chapter 7#nearly halfway
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A PLACE FOR ME : CHAPTER 1
Summary: September 2nd, 2019. First day of freshman year.
Trigger Warnings: Cursing, homophobic slur (as joke), bullying (mentioned), homophobia (mentioned), depression, deadnaming, violence, food
Characters: Deceit, Roman, Remus, Patton, Virgil, Logan, Remy
(mentioned) Corbin, Sloane
Words: 5770
AO3
CHAPTER 1 |
Notes: Big thanks to @missfay49 for being an amazing beta reader!
VIRGIL
Monday. The air was crisp, the leaves had started to turn, but still the grass was fresh and green. I set my eyes to the ground, but I still felt the heat of bodies moving around me. My eyes flitted across the faces of people I may have known years ago. My eyes returned to the ground and I saw the grass. Most of it was bright and green, but soon I found underwatered patches. The dew however, made the bright grass brighter. As I glanced back up, my heart was beating a little fast, I guess. Last time I was in school, I got beat up, and nearly sent to the hospital. Maybe now it would be a little different. I shoved my hands into my jacket pockets and walked into the cold, uninviting school.
PATTON
September 2nd. The leaves were golden and the air was shiny and bright, with cold light making the colors morph into something else. The trees loomed overhead. It wasnât quite cold enough for the sweater I was wearing, but the heavy, knitted sweater kept me safe and held. I had never been to school, and I didnât know what to expect. Iâve seen a handful of movies about high school, but, to be honest, I never cared much about movies. The looming building seemed tall and intimidating in front of me. The people all seemed tall and intimidating. I stared at the ground and imagined that instead of hoards of hormonal teenagers, I was surrounded by animals of the forest. Deer, rabbits, frogs, birds...
DEE
The second of September, the first day of school. It was just another day, and yet, the gold in the leaves was all the more noticeable. A chilly breeze grazed my skin, and I put up a hand to the burned half of my face. I didnât care about it, and no one else did, and yet, the idea someone might find it wrong never left my head. I stared up at the grey building, framed by a grey morning sky.
ROMAN
Monday, on the second of September, in the year 2019. The tall sweeping trees, dotted with browns and vivid oranges swayed in the light fall breeze. The green of the grass, while not as vibrant as in the intense summer months, was still vivid, especially when juxtaposed against the cold cement surrounding the school. The school, a grey, uninviting building with bars on the doors, felt grand and mysterious. The grey bricks made me think of great castles of villains. I sighed. I took a glance at my brother Remus, but quickly looked down at the ground. Iâd barely slept last night. Iâd finally gone to sleep at the foot of my brotherâs bed somewhere around five in the morning, my face wet from tears. It had been a tough week so far, but at this moment, I felt nothing.
REMUS
It was Monday, September 2nd. The trees twisted over the concrete, and I gazed up at their colorful leaves that had just started to change. The grass was still bright and colorful, and full of vibrancy. Feelings dashed through the air like leaves falling from trees. I could feel excitement, fear, worry, boredom and dozens more emotions flitting through students minds. I could feel my brother Roman beside me. The school loomed over, highlighted against the bright grey sky. I imagined spikes coming from the top of the grey prison and skipped forward, putting a bright smile on my face. Time to make some impressions!
LOGAN
Mon. 02/09/2019. The trees lining the concrete pathway to the school were starting to turn brown. Some leaves had already fallen. However, the grass was still green. The school was simple and plain. It was blank and gray, with grates over the windows. A feeling of anticipation was welling up in my chest, and while I hesitated to call it excitement, the idea of learning new things was...inviting.
VIRGIL
I took a deep breath. Itâs this or get dead named in front of your entire class.Â
âExcuse me, is this 204? Mr. Johnsonâs room?â I asked, hanging off the doorframe. A tall man with dark, wrinkled skin and a bright, grey beard looked at me and beckoned me to his desk.Â
âI am Mr. Johnson. What can I help you with? Class doesnât start for another twenty minutes.â His face had a quizzical expression, and he placed his head on his fist.
I pushed my hands deep into my pockets, reaching for some security. âUm, see...well, itâs about⊠my, um, like my name.â I took a deep breath. I could feel my hands shaking. Would you really rather be doing this in front of the entire class? âMy name is Virgil.â I blurted.Â
He gave me a strange look, then pulled out his roster sheet. âUm, let me see if youâre on hereâŠâ
âIâm not.â I swallowed. âI came because,â My head felt light. âMy name is, um, Virgil Ancell.â I took a deep breath.
In, two, three, four. Hold, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four.Â
âMy legal name is, um,â It had been a while since Iâd used it. âAmelia.â I said quietly.
âWell! Nice to meet you Virgil, Iâll be sure to make note of that, I wouldnât want to use the wrong name for someone.â I smiled, I was still shaking, but I felt more grounded.
Now I just have to do that six more times.
I took a seat near the front and laid back, pulling a fidget cube out and fiddling with it. Mr. Johnson continued working on something. âHey kid, Virgil.â I look up. âDo you think you could put a syllabus on each desk? Thereâs, one sec, uh, 27 students, soâŠïżœïżœïżœ He counted out several sheets of paper. I placed my cube in my pocket and walked to the desk. He handed me the papers. âJust, yeah, put them on the desks, thanks kid.â I smiled, and did as asked.
Some time passed, after Iâd put syllabi on all the desks, and kids started to filter in. I pulled my hood over my head and looked down. Mr. Johnson shot me a look. âNo hoods.â He said, looking at me. I took it off, and immediately regretted it. I could feel the stares, I swore.
I heard people talking under their breath.
âWhoâs the new kid?â
âI donât know, but he seems emo as hell.â
âSeriously though, we havenât had a new student in years, do you think they moved here?â
I sunk into my seat and gazed lazily at the door when a short, round person walked in the room. They held their head low, keeping their eyes on the ground. They had short, curly, golden hair, and large, round glasses. Their cheeks were rosy and covered in freckles. They were wearing a white tank top and a knee-length blue skirt.Â
Heads turned. They shone like the sun, their footsteps soft, eyes sparkling. Just seeing them was like breathing in a bouquet of sweet-smelling roses. The room got physically brighter as they sat in the front row, right in front of me. Their presence was like an angel come to sit on Earth.
Suddenly, a tall guy with dark hair and sunglasses sat on the desk next to me. He was wearing a white shirt, a leather jacket, and some short jean-shorts.
âHey.â He said, a nonchalant look on his face.
I looked down. I was scared. No way around it. I was in a new environment, and I was scared. âHi.â I said meekly.
âI donât know you. Whatâs your name? And you too, pretty boy.â He looked at the soft boy in a skirt. The boy looked at him, and then at me.
âIâm⊠Virgil.â He gave me a look like heâd seen a ghost.
âOop. Welp, whatâs up, kid. Nameâs Remy. You might remember me.â
Remy.
My heart beat fast. Looking now, I recognized him. Those eyes, the eyes that stared me down every day of my life. That voice that would tease and ridicule me. Memories of being called a dyke, a faggot, of my head being dunked in the toilet of the boyâs bathroom.Â
âGo back to the girlâs room, Amelia. Amelia. You were such a pretty girl.â
âI should let you know Iâve changed a lot.â He was awkwardly rubbing his neck. âAfter you left, I got put in my place.â There was a moment. I didnât know what to say--I couldnât say anything.
âWell hon, â he said, breaking the silence, âThatâs too much to unpack.â He took a deep breath and turned to the boy at the front.
âNow you, pretty boy.â
I looked down. This was⊠Remy? But he was so⊠awful. I looked at him, refusing to believe someone could change like that. But maybe. Maybe they can.
I moved my seat a few inches away from him.
PATTON
The first few minutes went great! People are already starting to talk to me! I think theyâre being genuine. I donât know.
The boy⊠Remy. I didnât know what to do. Should I tell him my name? Why is he calling me pretty boy? Is that normal? I was confused.
âYou there, kid?â He waved his hand in front of my face. âIâve never seen you before.âÂ
âIâm⊠Patton.â I said shyly. He reached out his hand to shake mine, but then the bell rang, and class started.
Class passed by quickly. I wasnât sure of everything, Iâd never been to public school, but it was somehow a lot easier than I expected.Â
Finding the rooms wasnât that difficult. There were five floors, and the room number corresponded to the floor. 501, for example, was in the northeast of the fifth floor.
That didnât make switching classes any easier. I was tossed around like a bouncing ball at the beach by the waves of students making their way to each class. In the forest, everything is calm and peaceful. Thereâs more than enough space for everyone. In the hallways between classes? Itâs a thundering storm, paired with a flood.
The day went on uneventfully. Mostly, teachers were giving out syllabi and setting rules. We got a bit of homework for English, but that was just to check on all of our reading levels.
English had been quite nice actually. The teacher, Ms. Green, passed out the syllabi for the class, as well as a few pages of a story. It was just a simple exercise, to see how long it took us as a class to get a reading activity. It was an excerpt from one of my favorite books: The Secret Garden. Iâd read it a thousand times over. Well, Iâd read a lot of books a thousand times over.
I was walking through the halls towards the cafeteria, reflecting on the day when I was suddenly I was thrown from my thoughts when I found myself tripping and falling into someone. I could feel their hands grip my arms, and they pulled me up. I looked up into deep, dark brown eyes. He had reddish brown hair and a cocky smile.Â
Well I knew I wasnât straight, but in the name of all that is good, gosh darn it. Am. I. Gay.
I could feel my face getting red. Itâs my first day and Iâve already tripped and fallen right into the arms of a frickinâ prince.
I tried to right myself, and force out an apology. âMy goodn--oh my--geez--I am--so sorry. Are, I, uh, hurt? Are you, um, hurt did I--â
âItâs cool.â He gave me a smile like the goddamn sun was shining in my face.Â
âIâm am so I am sorry.â
He chuckled, then he looked at me closer. âYouâre new. Did you just move to Marshfield?â
âI was-- um, homeschooled. Iâve always lived here, well, near, I technically donât live in the, uh city, I--uh--town limits. I live just outside. Near the, uh the forest. I live, um, across the river.â I realized I had been staring a hole into his face and I quickly looked down, blushing. I noticed he was wearing a white and red letterman jacket and jeans.
âThen I can see why youâre so nervous. I shouldnât keep you waiting for your next class.â
âI um, itâs cool, I, uh, itâs my lunch.â
âOh yeah?â He said.
I smiled, trying to seem a little stable. He was tall. Really tall. At least a head taller than me. âHey, want to come join my and my table? To be honest I donât know if there will be a seat but, if there is, you can chill with us.â
Should I accept this? Will I be rude if I donât? Is there some sort of unspoken conversation going on?
âWell, I, um I wouldnât want to,â I paused. âImpose on your, uh, friend group.â Will this work?Â
âItâs cool, Iâll just see if thereâs any extra seats?â The guy said. I nodded, I mean, I didnât know how else to respond.
âBy the way, whatâs your name?â He said, walking towards the cafeteria.
âPatton.â I said shyly.Â
âAlright, come on Patton, Iâm Roman.â As Roman walked, another boy came out of the crowd. He had the same face as Roman, but he was thin. He had a light mustache and heavy eye bags. However, probably the most noticeable thing about him was his bright green, embroidered, floral patterned shirt with ruffles on his shoulders.Â
âIâm Remus, the sexiest man youâll ever meet.â He wiggled his eyebrows and Roman turned around to playfully slap him. He turned back to me.Â
âHeâs my twin.â
When we got to the cafeteria, I could see the tables were small, and could each fit eight people. I followed him to a table near the back of the room where someone was waving. Once we got closer, I saw it was Remy, from my first period.Â
âHey, pretty boy.â Said Remy with a wink.
âShut up Remy, heâs new. Besides, you wouldnât want Dee to hear you.â Roman said.
âSomeone say my name?â A tall kid turned towards Roman. A scar, which seemed like an old burn, covered half his face, and stretched down his neck. He was wearing a black button down shirt, and, to my surprise, a black cape that went halfway down his back, trimmed with yellow. He also wore a black bowler.
âYo, Ro, I donât think we have enough seats, âcause Iâm pretty sure Corbin has this lunch period too.â Said Remus as he looked around the table.
âAh, shit. Well, I hope you find an empty table, youâre always welcome here if one of us doesnât show up.â Roman gave a sympathetic smile.
Great, first day, and Iâve already embarrassed myself in front of the hottest guy in the school.
I scanned the cafeteria, searching for an empty table. I saw one in the corner near the kitchen, with only two people at it. Upon approaching, I saw it was one of the kids from my first period class. What was his name? V-- I couldnât remember.
âCan I sit here?â
The boy from first period--Virgil!-- looked up, and then to the other person. The boy, who had well groomed, dark hair, and thick square glasses, looked at me and shrugged. He was wearing a black button down shirt, and a blue tie. I took a seat so that we were of equal distance from each other. I was unsure if I was supposed to talk to them in this situation, so I looked down at my food and decided to let them do the initiating.Â
DEE
âDee!â A body crashed into me as I was walking down the hall, and a pair of arms latched onto my torso. I feel a light peck on my neck, then I hear the ice of a Starbucks cup.
âHey, Remy.â I turned around as soon as Remy released me.
âOh hon, you look fine. Thatâs one hell of a cape.â I looked down at my questionable clothing choice.
âThe extreme tends to make an impression.â
âOoh, heâs hot, fearless, and a Heathers fan? I might be in love.â
âOh, shut up, Remy. Do you know what table weâre sitting at?â
âNot yet,â he linked arms with me and started to walk, âbut Roman said to meet him and Remus in the cafeteria during breakfast to coordinate. You know, lunch periods and all that jazz.â
I nod. âThe cafeteria is on the top floor?â
âSure is, hon.â
We made our way to the top floor, Remy saying hi to about five dozen people as we walked past.
âDo you know everyone in the school?â
âHon, I know everyone in this town.â
Remy might not get all As, (in fact, one A was an accomplishment) and he didnât always know how to read emotions, and he wasnât great at solving problems, but if there was one thing he was smart in, was names. He knew every name heâd ever been told, he claims. And it wasnât just people heâd met; actors, singers, bands, he was a genius. He knew everyone in the school, even if they werenât friends.
âHey Jack, honey, looking gay!â He said, knocking his voice up an octave.Â
âYou too!â He winked.
Another thing Remy was? Gay. Some people are gay, but Remy was not satisfied with that, no. Every had to know. He was up and out and proud.
Itâs kind of funny, he use to bully all the gay kids, or the trans kids. His parents were never accepting, and I guess he used to bottle up a lot of internalized homophobiaâŠ
âOoh hon, stop doing your head monologue and say hi to Roman!â He said when we got into the cafeteria.
Roman, hot as ever, and at least a few inches taller.
âWhat it do, faggots and Roman.â Remy said.
âUh, rude much.â Remy released my arm and ran up to squeeze Roman. Not letting go of him, Remy leaned back. âMan, you are a hunk.âÂ
âWell, I spent the last three months working out everyday. I guess puberty finally set in.â
âOh, and you got a little fuzz! You are a man, hon.â He gasped, and let go of Roman.Â
âRemus! You got a mustache, and you are rocking that top. Dee, get over here.â I walked around Roman. Remus was wearing a frilly shirt, green with a floral pattern embroidered on.
âHoo, I feel underdressed.â I smirked, fiddling with my cape.
Soon I felt Remusâs arms wrap around me. âHey noodle.â
I giggled. âDonât fucking call me that.â
âAww, my little angry noodle.â
I rolled my eyes, but I felt warm inside.
âCome on, guys, Iâm going to show you the table.â Roman said, walking through the lunchroom. Remus let go of me. There was a table in the back corner, complete with Corbin, Sloane, Kai, and Elliot already sitting there. âEveryone, time to compare rosters.â
I found out I didnât share many classes with the gang, but I was in the same lunch period as the rest of the table. After we were all satisfied, we caught up until the bell rang, and we were off to classes.
***
The classes passed uneventfully, and soon it was lunchtime.
When Roman walked in, there was a short boy in tow.
He had round glasses, but they didnât distract from his glittering blue eyes. His steps were dainty and small, and still somehow graceful and sweeping. His head was held low, and he couldn't have been more than five foot, but when he walked in, the entire room was at his fingertips.
I could feel light and warmth filling the room. I looked around and found half the cafeteria with their jaws to the floor staring. I could swear a melody was playing in my head as the boy followed Roman to our table.
âShut up Remy, heâs new. Besides, you wouldnât want Dee to hear you.â Roman said.
âSomeone say my name?â I said, breaking my stare to look at Roman.
âYo, Ro, I donât think we have enough seats, âcause Iâm pretty sure Corbin has this lunch period too.â Said Remus as he looked around the table. My head processed the situation, and then my heart sank a little. The Literal Angel would not be sitting with us, he would have to find some other seat.Â
âAh, shit. Well, I hope you find an empty table, youâre always welcome here if one of us doesnât show up.â Roman gave a sympathetic smile.
I wanted to offer up my seat, but before I could form the words, the boy had shuffled off to another table.
ROMAN
âWeâre meeting everyone in the cafeteria because apparently Iâm the leader of this friend group and I have to decide where we sit.â
Me and my brother Remus weâre walking into the school building. Not five minutes in I was bombarded with hordes of joyous teenagers.
âYo, Ro!â
âWhat it do, kid?â
âItâs the little guy on the football team!â
âNot so little anymore, hey kiddo!â
I forced a smile and slapped the hands of the people walking by.Â
âHey!â
âWas your summer good?â
âHey, watch it, you almost bumped into me!â
âYou good?â Remus leaned over to me. The rush of people around me faded away as I felt my brother lean into me. I threw my arm around his shoulder.Â
âYeah.â I lied.
He could tell. He always could. I gulped, and straightened my spine.Â
Feeling his warmth so close to me was a comfort. Like having a too big dog in your lap, like curling up to your mother on a cold night. Like your brother thatâs always there for you in your time of need.
We travelled through the waves of people, eventually cutting through the crowd to the top floor, where the cafeteria was. I put on a smile and went through the motions. I greeted my acquaintances.Â
Then it was time for classes.
***
Remus was talking, but I wasnât really paying much attention to his words. We had the same roster this year, so a lot of what he was saying was just repeating the events of the day before. I was in a trance, the words going in one ear, out the other. I could barely register the way my feet were hitting the ground.
I was suddenly yeeted from my daydream when a body was thrown in my direction. On instinct, I grabbed the arms of said body, gripping them tightly. I put on a cocky smile, and then the head of the body turned up at me.
He had eyes that sparkled like diamonds, they were a pale baby blue. His touch seemed to ooze happiness. I could feel something spreading from his hands, coursing through my blood. I felt happy, for the first time in a while.
It was as if sunlight was streaming through the tiny windows along the wall as he tried to apologize.
âMy goodn--oh my--geez--I am--so sorry. Are, I, uh, hurt? Are you, um, hurt did I--â
âItâs cool.â I said, giving a genuine smile for the first time that day.
âIâm am so I am sorry.â
His nervous demeanor only made him more adorable. I wanted to grab his hand right then and run away from this school forever. As I looked at him, I wondered why Iâd never noticed him before.
âYouâre new? Did you just move to Marshfield?â
He stammered out a string of words, which I managed to connect to âI was homeschooled.â As he spoke, though, his face took a pink tint and he looked at the ground.
Suddenly the thoughts were racing through my mind. I tried to think of all the possible ways I screwed this up, or could screw it up more.
I spat something about being nervous, but I wasnât really sure of the words coming from my mouth anymore.
âI um, itâs cool, I, uh, itâs my lunch.â
Then I invited him to my table. I could feel my heart beating. Stupid stupid. Thatâs weird. Heâs going to think your weird. What will the others think. I donât have enough seats.
Indeed there werenât enough seats, as pointed out by Remus. I stared at him. Sorry. I thought, giving him a smile. He returned it and walked off to another table. I gazed as he went.
I expected my heart to return to itâs grey, melancholy state. And yet? The warmth stayed, even as I turned away from him.
âHeâs cute.â Remus said.
I rolled my eyes and took a seat, a touch of pink on my cheeks.
REMUS
Today was a bad day. Iâd woken up to Roman curled at the bottom of my bed for the third time since last Monday. His hair was messy, and his face. His light makeup had been skewed by tears. Now, as we were walking down the hallways, he was masking his mood with a smile.Â
People greeted him in the halls left and right. I leaned over âYou good?â It was a silly question. I knew he wasnât. He laid his arm on my shoulder.
âYeah.â He lied.
We walked into the lunchroom and were soon confronted by a sunglass-wearing gay.
âOoh hon, stop doing your head monologue and say hi to Roman! What it do, faggots and Roman.â Remy said.
âUh, rude much.â Roman said.Â
âMan, you are a hunk.â I heard Remy say. I refrained from mentioning I was the one who got him to work out every morning. I zoned out for a minute until I heard Remy say my name.
âYou got a mustache, and you are rocking that top. Dee, get over here.â
I noticed Dee for the first time and smiled.Â
âHoo, I feel underdressed.â I heard him say before I leapt forward and pulled him into a hug.
âHey noodle.â
He giggled, adorably. âDonât fucking call me that.â
âAww, my little angry noodle.â
He rolled his eyes, but I could feel his heart warm up.Â
âCome on, guys, Iâm going to show you the table.â Roman said, walking through the lunchroom. I let go of him with a smile on my face.
***
Pretty soon I was walking to Biology side by side with Roman. I managed to slip into the room just before the bell rang. I gave a cocky smile to the teacher and picked a seat in the back row. I looked around the room at the students. When my eyes landed on Logan, I smiled, and a memory came to mind.
People were gathered in the classroom, weâd just been told that Amelia⊠uh, Virgil, the trans kid, had left the school. I was looking around the room at the students reactions. Many were snickering, but quite a few also seemed to be seething.
I heard several remarks, but didnât catch any. I guess I was sad that a student left, but we hadnât been friends, so. Well. I guess s--he didnât have any friends. I started to feel bad for him when suddenly an angry kid stood up. The teacher was standing just outside the classroom talking to someone as the kid--Logan-- walked up to everyoneâs favorite bully, Remy.
Remy had been a jerk to Am--Virgil for years. Before he came out, and after. He bullied him for being a lesbian, for being trans, and other made-up and fictional âproblemsâ. Remy bullied everyone, I guess, but Virgil⊠it was bad for he--him.
My eyes followed Logan as he walked right up to Remy. Remy looked nonchalant at the approach, and didnât even look at Logan. âHey.â Said Logan, looking straight on at Remy.
âWhat do you want, nerd?â Remy said, standing up. As I examined Logan, I could see his eyes were glassy with the threat of tears.
âItâs your fault. If you werenât such a goddamn jerk to him all the time, this wouldnât have happened.â
âOh what, youâre defending that girl, sheâs not worth it.â
âShut up Remy, heâs a boy, and I am here to punch you.â
Logan did not disappoint. I saw the teacher turning around out of the corner of my eye, but quickly gave my full attention to the two boys. Logan raised his fist and--
BAM!!
His fist collided with Remyâs face, sending him backwards, tripping over the chair. My heart beat faster. Loganâs face turned cold and unmerciful. He wiped a tear from his face and looked down upon the body.Â
(The teacher gazed apathetically before giving a thumbs up and turning back to the door.)
Well, I donât know how Iâm supposed to believe Iâm straight.
Butterflies fly through my stomach, and my heart turned over in my chest. He was beautiful, and his fist could do magic.
That was the moment I fell in love with Logan Lowell.
I was pulled back to the present as the class started, and began to take notes on the teacher and the like. My eyes never strayed far from Logan, though. I got lost in daydreams, as I often did. Many of them involved confessing my love to Logan in extreme and extravagant ways. I also created a few vivid descriptions of how exactly I would go about physically torturing him, but I put those aside.
***
The next two periods passed uneventfully, and pretty soon me and Roman were walking down the halls to lunch.
âAnd let me tell you about his eyes.â Iâd been gushing about Logan since this morning, and was not slowing down. âHe just has the most--â I was interrupted when I noticed a small body making his way down the hall--straight towards Roman. Neither of them were paying attention. I reached a hand out to pull Roman to the side, but before I could even touch him, the two collided.
As the two apologized, I stared at the boy. He was short, and yet, you didnât feel like he was. He seemed to be glowing, but I blinked, and the aura disappeared. He had pale, shiny blue eyes, and luscious golden hair. He was beautiful.Â
Roman invited him to his table. I might have protested, but the boy seemed so sweet that I didnât dare.
âPatton.â His name was Patton. I felt it was necessary to step in,
âIâm Remus, the sexiest man youâll ever meet.â
Roman, I noticed, didnât take his eyes off of Patton, which, I mean, who could blame him? As we walked into the lunch room, I counted the people at our table. After a moment of thought, I realized we didnât have an extra seat.Â
âYo, Ro, I donât think we have enough seats, âcause Iâm pretty sure Corbin has this lunch period too.â I saw Roman shoot a sympathetic look, and the boy, Patton, walked away.Â
âHeâs cute.â I said. Roman blushed and took a seat.
LOGAN
I stepped into the building, pushing my glasses up the bridge of my nose, and glanced around the hall.
Hordes of teenagers rushed across the shining floors, racing to their next class. I stepped through the crowds, swerving around, hitting no one, and yet moving swiftly past. Years of ballet had trained me to move quickly, efficiently, and gracefully.
I stepped into my first period classroom and look around the room. The teacher, a well dressed woman, gave me a smile, and I took a seat in the front row, by the window. I pulled out a notebook and wrote âAP Physicsâ and my name, âLogan Lowellâ on the front. I opened it to the first page and began copying down information from the board about the teacher.
âDaphne Moon
Graduated fromâŠâ
Slowly other students filed in, some familiar, some not. I never paid any attention to the students, I never much needed to. I spent the time waiting for class to begin, staring out the window at the leaves of a large oak tree.Â
The class went fairly smoothly, the teacher introduced herself, talked about the syllabus.
Then we were off to our next class. English.
***
âHello class, Iâm Ms. Green. Itâs a pleasure to meet each of you. I have my contact information up on the board if you want to read that andâŠâ
She gave a nod and began counting papers on her desk. She looked up, apparently counting the students, and soon began placing papers on desks. I took a look at them. One was titled âAbout Meâ, and it had a variety of questions on it. The second one was the syllabus, and I began to skim through it.
âPlease fill out your about me papers, there are markers if you want to color it.â
It was like being back in kindergarten.
I began to fill out the paper.Â
What is/are your favorite subject/s?
Physics, astronomy
What do you like to do outside of school?
Ballet, research
How can I best help you?
Challenging the students more than you think they can handle, offering resources to learn more for students who are interested
I finished the paper quickly, and spent the rest of the period relaxing and gazing out the window.
***
Third period came and went, and soon I made my way to lunch. I had brought a sandwich, and apple, and a bottle of water, which I promptly laid out once Iâd found an empty table in the cafeteria. Soon, a boy in a hoodie took a seat across the table from me. I nodded out of politeness, but otherwise didnât acknowledge him.
I began my lunch, taking in the scene
Then he walked in.
I donât quite believe he was a boy, more a celestial being. I scoffed silently. An angel? Logan youâre really going mad.
I wasnât quite sure why I was gazing at him like there were stars in his eyes, but I followed him as he walked with the football player, Roman? to his table. He was meek, and short, and yet he commanded the attention of the room. I blushed and forced my eyes down to my food. I felt silly for admiring him, but I ignored it.
I stared intensely at my food as I ate. I heard footsteps approaching my table and looked up It was him. I tried to ignore him.
âCan I sit here?â
I shrugged. My odds of avoiding human attraction have severely declined. This is going to be a nice school year.
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