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#oh and Joanie by The Front Bottoms as well
grassbreads · 9 days
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I made playlists of this poll on tidal, youtube, and spotify if y'all want to go listen to the songs you don't know yet :).
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mercurygray · 10 months
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Hey, hey! May I request a “Things you said” with #18 “… when one or more of us was drunk” for Joan and Nixon? Thank you so much:)
Ps. I’m truly in love with your writing <3
Awww, thank you so much! I had a hard time thinking of a time when Joan would be drunk, but I wanted a happier scene - so I hope this works.
They were quite the picture, sitting up at the front of the room- white dress, black tie, leaning together to share some joke, her hands wrapped around his, ignoring the rest of the world in their own private heaven.
A room full of the world's best and brightest- and they only have eyes for each other. Lew set his glass down on an empty table and straightened his cuffs, ready to interrupt. "If you'll excuse me, Mr. Winters, I've just realized I need to dance with your wife."
The pair broke apart, both smiling. "Is she my wife now?" Dick asked, leaning over again and kissing Joan fondly on the cheek. "I hadn't noticed."
"Don't tell me I lost you in the divorce, too," Lew shot back, taking Joan's hand and helping her arrange the wide swath of her skirts out of her chair and around the table so she could step out onto the dance floor.
"Stop arguing, you two," Joan ordered. "It's my wedding and I can't have you two start something."
"Yes, dear," Dick said with a grin, playing the dutiful husband to the hilts.
Lew lead her out onto the dance floor just as the bandleader swapped to something softer and slow. The party was still at a manageable hum; dinner service and coffee had tapered off and the guests were just getting into the swing of the dancing. "I hope someone's told you today you look beautiful," he said, remembering another dance in a different room, service dress and khaki and bowls of weak punch.
"Several someones," she reported happily. "I even think they all meant it."
"Good. I hope one of them was your husband; I'd hate to think he was slacking on day one."
She looked at him with fresh eyes. "Lew Nixon, are you drunk at my wedding?"
"Listen, when daddy pays for an open bar, someone's obliged to make the most of it," Lew responded with characteristic dryness. Joan rolled her eyes. "Only a little bit," he admitted. "And a happy drunk, too, since you ask."
Her smile shortened a little. "I'm sorry Françoise couldn't come."
"She's not," Lew reported, resignation in every word. Lew's second wife was very…French, and not even the promise of a party as glittering and glamorous as Joan's wedding was enough to lure her away from the fancy apartment that Lew paid for in New York. It had been a quick marriage, made in the aftermath of… everything, and it had quickly become apparent that the two of them were barely suited to each other. Françoise longed for the fashionable rush of the city and Lew…well. Lew wasn't sure he knew what he wanted, but he was quite sure now that it was never going to be the same things. "And before you say anything," he added, putting his smile back on, "I'll have you know that I have excellent taste in women. The best ones all just keep getting away from me."
"Lew." It was a warning, but he didn't care - she was beautiful, and in love, and he wanted her to appreciate what she had while she had it.
"I meant that wife joke every time I said it, you know. I was always a little in love with you." He held her hand close and smiled at her. "Never enough to do anything about it, of course. Except let you marry my best friend." He smiled at her, trying to reassure. "I hope you'll be happy, Joanie. That you'll both be happy. You deserve happiness."
"So do you," Joan responded back, squeezing his hand and pulling herself in closer. "And you'll get it. I won't allow otherwise."
Oh, Joan, Lew thought to himself, hand on her back, thinking of another dark-haired beauty who couldn't be here, the woman he was trying to find in the bottom of his glass. If only you could.
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mutatiio · 1 year
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Shiplist (Ferus x Anakin)
@mayxthexforce
i. joanie by the front bottoms
if only you could hold me my sweet, sweet joanie oh, my one and only
do you ever think maybe i could be one of those things that you hate at first but eventually learn to love and then trust and then touch and then cut yeah i bet you will yeah i bet you will
ii. you're somebody else by flora cash
you were the better part of every bit of beating heart that i had whatever i had i finally sat alone pitch black flesh and bone couldn't believe that you were gone
well you look like yourself but you're somebody else only it ain't on the surface well you talk like yourself no, i hear someone else though now you're making me nervous
iii. lost in you by three days grace
i always knew that you'd come back to get me and you always knew that it wouldn't be easy to go back to the start to see where it all began or end up at the bottom to watch how it all ends
somehow i found a way to get lost in you let me inside let me get close to you change your mind i'll get lost if you want me to somehow i found a way to get lost in you
honourable mentions: cough it out | like a staring contest
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𝐏𝐔𝐓  ’ 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ’  𝐈𝐍  𝐌𝐘  𝐀𝐒𝐊  𝐀𝐍𝐃  𝐈  𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋  𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓  𝟏 - 𝟑  𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒  𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓  𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃  𝐌𝐄  𝐎𝐅  𝐎𝐔𝐑  𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐒  /  𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏.
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callmetippytumbles · 6 years
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Juneteenth
Tippy’s note: So I asked earlier what people would think if I did a Juneteenth story for Halle and Liam.  I saw some for other fandoms and wondered what it would be like for Halle given her background.  The people that responded said they would be cool with that.  This is that story. 
Words Counted: 1,532
Rating: PG, It’s fluffy? Well, it’s not angsty and there is no sex.
Pairing: Liam x MC (Halle)
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Halle had just returned to the Royal Chambers for the day.  It was one of her long days.  She had an appearance with Liam earlier, and then they separated for the rest of their schedules.
Now she sat in the living room and was checking a few last minute emails from Justin.  There was one from Madeleine that she didn’t want to answer but she knew she should.
A Skype call rang on her screen, the high pitch digital ringtone echoing through the room. Halle saw that it was from her parents and quickly answered.
“Hey Mom & Dad,” Halle calmly greeted.
She could tell they were calling from Harrold’s dental practice in her mother’s office. Joanne’s Howard degree was hanging prominently behind her as well a large picture of Chaka Khan’s “I Feel For You” album cover art.  
“Good evening, Halle,” Her mother greeted.  “We didn’t get you too late there? Cordonian time is different.”
Halle shook her head. “Nope. It’s 7PM over here.”
“That’s good.”
“How is everything over there?”
“You know,” Harrold chimed in.  “The usual. The practice is still open, Joanie makes sure the bills are paid, and the lights stay on.”
“Well, you guys can always retire here.”
Her parents shifted uneasily in their seats before her father said, “We are still taking it under advisement.”
Halle and Liam have offered for Joanne and Harrold to retire to Cordonia.  Her parents do not entertain the conversation for very long.  The would over every reason under the sun from Harrold’s dental practice to Hakim.  They just weren’t ready.  They still felt young enough to not need to retire.  Just want to.
Harrold quickly changed the subject.  “Anyway, we called because today is Juneteenth!”
“Oh.”
His smile faded, and he took a deep breath.  “You forgot didn’t you.”
“Yeah,” Halle said apologetically.   “When you are a queen of a small country the days kind of blend together sometimes.  Plus, they don’t exactly celebrate Juneteenth over here.”
“What’s Juneteenth?” Liam asked as he walked in carrying a small package. He set the box down and walked over to his wife.  Liam kissed on her cheek.  He went to kiss her lips until he heard Harrold cough.  Liam quickly stood back.
“Sorry, I was talking with my parents.” She gestured to her laptop.
“Hello, Liam,” Joanne greeted.
“Hi, mom!” Liam greeted back.
Joanne pursed her lips.  “I am Joanne or Mrs. Berry to you until I meet Michelle Obama or I meet my grandbaby. Whichever comes first.”
“Mom.”
“Sorry Halle, but you know—“”
“Yes I do,” Halle interrupted.
“Anyway Liam, Juneteenth is an unofficial Black American holiday that commemorates emancipation.” Harrold started to explain.  
If Halle wasn’t doing the explaining of a Black American culture thing and Harrold was around, he was the one who took that on.  As much as the explaining got on his nerves, it was better that he explain it to his son-in-law than have him not know and sound crazy.  His hostility towards his daughter’s choice of husband has lessened over the 9 months since they got married.  Liam’s willingness to learn helped with that a great deal.
“Lincoln freed the slaves in 1863, but that didn’t exactly apply to all of the slaves.  Mostly to those who were close enough to run to Union territory or the North.  The last slaves were freed in Texas in 1865.  Even then people were still not happy about slavery being abolished--”
“That is an understatement--,” Joanne interjected.
“Liam, you can Google ‘Reconstruction’ on your own time.  Point is Black people were free and even when it made people upset we celebrated our freedom and resiliency.”
Liam nodded.
“Did you get the package we sent?” Joanne asked.
Halle raised her eyebrow.  “Package?”
Liam walked over to where the package was and handed it to her.
She held up the package to her computer camera.  “Package.”
Halle looked at the box, but it was already opened.
“This was already opened. Liam did you—“”
“Actually The Royal Guard did. They check all of our packages for threats.”
“Even ours?” Joanne asked.
“Yes.” Liam nodded again before quickly clarifying, “ We don’t think you would hurt us but someone could send something claiming to be you and…”
“Oh,” Joanne said, her usual vibrancy faded.
Everyone sat quietly as they remembered that they aren’t average anymore.
Halle broke the silence.  “Well, I want to see what is in this package.”
She opened the box. Inside, there was a liter size of her, and now Liam’s, favorite shampoo.  Liam smiled as soon as he saw the bottle.  The palace was well stocked now, but another bottle was never unwelcome.  There was also two bottles of red soda. Liam raised his eyebrow at the red drink.
“Mom. Dad. You shouldn’t have.”
“Well, I cannot have my baby girl, queen or no, without the proper accouterments to celebrate Juneteenth.”
“I am definitely going to drink some.  I miss red soda. I miss soda in general.”
“There was one other thing I sent Halle,” Joanne added.
“I got the shampoo.”
“Not that. Check the box.”
Halle checked the box and at the bottom tucked underneath the bottles there was a rolled up piece of fabric. She unfurled it to reveal a black onesie with the words “Happy Juneteenth” on the front of it. Halle held it up for both Liam and her parents to see.
“Isn’t it adorable! For the baby.”
“There is no baby.”
“Not yet,” Liam said.  Halle glared at her husband.  He raised his eyebrows.
“Joanie,” Harrold warned.
“You hush. He said not yet,” She defended.  ”Maybe for next year it could be needed.”
“We’ll see,” Halle deadpanned.
“Anyway, we have to go. I have a 1 o’clock to get to.” Harrold said.
“These books won’t balance themselves.”
“Bye Halle.  Bye Liam,” her parents said.
Halle waved as she closed her laptop and took a deep breath.  Liam stood up to remove his blazer and unloosened his cufflinks.  Halle went to change into something more comfortable than her appropriately fitted blush sheath.  When she went back to the living room, Liam was still staring at the package.
“So June-tenth--”
“Juneteenth,” Halle corrected.
“Juneteenth is important to you and your family.”
“Yeah, it is.”  She sat back on the couch, curling her feet under her.  “When people think of slavery in America, they think of it as a long, long time ago.  400 years is a long time when you think of it as a number.  When you put it into things, you can see…”  Halle played with her fingers as she tried to find the transition to her next point before giving up.
“You know how you can look back over your family history and see nothing but kings and queens?”
Liam nodded.
“My Great-Great-Great-Great-Grandfather was a slave.  That is just 5 degrees of separation between my dad and slavery.  It’s a lot to sit with.”
Liam joined her on the couch.  He wasn’t sure what to make of that.  They don’t teach you what the most appropriate facial expression for talking about slavery in etiquette class.
“I see.  And the red soda?”
Halle shrugged,  “I don’t know for sure.  It has been at every Juneteenth party I have ever been to.  Some people say that the red is connected to West Africa, but I haven’t heard much as to why.”
“Is it a big celebration?”
“For my family it is.  For others, it isn’t.”  
Her husband furrowed his brows in confusion.  
“It’s one thing when you just experience the racism that stems from slavery.  It’s another when your family has lived through it.  So not everyone celebrates it.  Some people don’t know about it, mostly Africans that immigrated to America.”
“Well,” Liam started.  He pulled his wife closer to him, so her head rested on his chest.  “There is still a few hours left in the day.  Want to have a small Juneteenth celebration?”
“Sure.”
“Wait.” He paused.  “What do we do during a Juneteenth celebration?”
Halle sat up.  “There is usually a barbeque.  We eat, spend time with our loved ones and just be thankful that we are alive and free...And crack these babies open.”
Halle handed Liam a soda.  They both could hear the sound of the fizz as they opened the bottles.  Halle took a big gulp of her drink while Liam took a tentative sip.
“Aaaah.  Oh, how I have missed you.” Halle said looking at the bottle.  
She looked over at Liam who was drinking more slowly than she was.
“It’s a taste alright.”
“I know it seems silly,” Halle deflected.
“No, it isn’t silly.  Not in the least.  It is important to you, and now it is important to me.”  He pulled her back onto his chest.  
“Besides, we have to be thankful that we are together and alive.  There were some points last year whether one or both of those things could have been in jeopardy.”
Halle nodded in agreement, “We survived.”
Liam kissed the top of her forehead, and she smiled.  They sat together on the sofa and enjoyed each other’s company for the rest of the night.  Thankful for their lives and each other.
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askmissthunder · 6 years
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I thought it went great, especially since it was my first time throwing this type of party!
Eli arrived early to give me a hand tidying up, mainly with vacuuming and dusting. It had been a while since I had new guests over and the last thing I wanted them to think was I lived in a pig sty. Cassie would've helped too, but she was busy rounding up the girls since none of them knew where I lived.
Talon arrived early as well in the only way she could: up the fire escape and outside my balcony. Eli and I nearly leaped out of our skins when she knocked on the glass door.
"You know I have a front door, right?", I asked, letting her in.
"Yes but too many people would know I was coming into your building.  They might ask questions."
"Sure, because climbing up the side of the building is so inconspicuous."
I saw that despite Talon's glum attitude, she was already dressed for the occasion, wearing a Slayer T-shirt with torn off sleeves and dark flannel pajama pants.
Seeing her sleeping clothes only reminded me that Cassie's friends would have to be subjected to seeing me in my sleeping clothes.  And by "sleeping clothes", I mean some of my Nan's old Circus Fat Lady costumes and let's just say that Nan wasn't afraid to show off some skin back in the day.
As I finished putting up some snack trays (lots of Halloween sweets and frosted pumpkin biscuits), I heard Eli give a loud sniff.
"What do you smell, luv?", I asked with a smile.
*Sniff!*
"Lots of hair products..."
*Sniff sniff!*
"Nail polish and old socks..."
*SNIFF*
"Mmm! Candy apples! Penny, the girls are here!"
"Yippee.", Talon said monotonously, setting up her sleeping bag on the floor.
Not even a minute later, my flat's intercom buzzed.
I trotted over by the front door to answer, "Hello?"
Cassie's voice crackled through, "Hey, girl! We're all here!"
"Fantastic! Come on up, then!"
I turned towards Eli, "Wow, luv! You smelled them all the way at the bottom floor!"
Eli leaned back against the wall, smiling smugly, "Well, when you got a nose like mine..."
I pinched his cheek playfully as I remembered I had to play the part of huge fat girl with very limited mobility and took my spot on the couch.
It wasn't long before there was a rapping at my chamber door.  Eli, ever the dutiful boyfriend, opened it with a theatrical bow. "Enter! If you dare...", he said in a mock Vincent Price voice.
In the doorway, stood Cassie and the Dance Squad. "HEEEEY!", they all shouted in unison as they marched in, all of them carrying duffel bags, pillows, and blankets.
"Hello, hello, girls!", I greeted, waving excitedly.
"Wow, Penny!", Karen exclaimed, spinning around, "You got such a big place!"
I chuckled, gesturing to my body "Well, it has to accommodate all of this, you know?"
"Ah didn't know what food y'all might have but Ah brought some caramel apples straight from home!", Amanda stated, holding up a tray filled with the scrumptious delights. I looked at Eli who gave me a knowing wink.
"Damn, girl! These are all yours?", Tamika asked, pointing at the boxes and stacks of vinyl records, cassettes, and CDs I had in the corner of my living room next to my stereo. It was hard to miss.
"I told you Penny's a music buff!", Cassie said while dropping her gym bag, claiming the spot. "Go ahead! Ask her anything about music!"
"Okay, what year did....oh, the Thiller album come out?", Stacey questioned.
I grinned, "1982."
"Pssh! I could've told you that!", Lailani stated, "Let me try."
She looked through my vinyl selection and gave a sly smile. "Penny, in the Indigo Girls album, Strange Fire, what is the sixth track?"
"Ah, that's a trick question. In the original Canadian release, it was 'Hey Jesus' but I have the American re-release, so Track 6 is 'Get Together', a cover originally by the Youngbloods."
The girls all "Oooooh"ed at that.
Deb stepped up, "All right, all right, I got one!"
She cleared her throat and sang, "Dah! Dah dah! Dah dah dah dah dah dah! Dah! Dah dah! Dah dah dah dah dah dah dah!"
"Serenade No. 13 in G Major, more commonly known as Eine kleine Nachtmusik by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart."
Deb threw her arms up, "Damn! And I just watched Amadeus last week! I give, Penny. Cassie wasn't just bullshitting us as usual."
"Oh, hush!", Cassie snapped back, "I would never joke about Penny's music knowledge! And what the hell do you mean 'as usual', Miss 'there are alligators in the sewers' ?!"
"There are alligators! Just not in Ocean City! They only live in New York, you yutz!"
They both stuck their tongues out at each other for a moment before going into a giggle fit.
Stacey rolled her eyes, "Don't mind them. Not a day goes by without Deb antagonizing somebody."
Cassie gathered her composure and clapped her hands authoritatively to the dance squad, "All right, ladies! Pick out a spot! Get comfy while I'll go ahead and get those pizza pies ordered! Four of everything, right?"
"No anchovies!", Amanda spoke up.
"Yes, and for the love of God, no pineapple.", Tamika added.
"Aww!", Karen whined, "I like pineapple. And pickles. And asparagus. And Froot Loops."
"I'll get one pineapple pizza for you, Kare.", Cassie said comfortingly, "But only one."
"Yay!"
If nothing else, the party was a good excuse to get the know Cassie's friends better, especially since we would be waiting a while for our rather large pizza order to arrive. Mainly things like Cassie has been friends with Joanie, Tamika, and Stacey since their primary school days while Amanda, Karen, Deb and Lailani have only joined their circle in college.
Joanie, who you may remember made my Belle costume last year, is a Fashion major, hoping to make it big in the New York fashion scene. If my costume was evidence of her hard work and dedication to the craft, I suspect we might be seeing models sporting her designs in the near future.
Tamika is one of Cassie's oldest friends as both of their Mums were in the same theater company so they practically grew up together. Like Cassie, she's also extremely passionate about dancing. While her main goal is to become the next big Broadway star, she also want to open up her own dance studio.  
Stacey, Cassie claims, is the "Team Mom", always looking out for the others whenever they go out or making goals for them to accomplish with their dancing. It's not that much of a surprise, considering she's a All-A student with a 4.0 GPA who's also part of the debate team and has a job on the side as a babysitter.
Amanda, as her accent might have revealed, is a country girl straight from Kentucky. Her family owns a dairy farm and a small orchard so she's not afraid to get her hands dirty.  She's has that nice southern hospitality but she can get pretty rowdy as well, seeing how she nearly punched one of my bullies, Bianca, after she insulted Tamika. I asked her why she would come all the way to Ocean City for college. She responded, " 'Cause of the ocean, of course! We got lakes and rivers in Kentucky but Ah've never seen the ocean before! Ah figured Ah could use a change of scenery for my schoolin'. "
Deb is a New Yorker, through and through. She's loud, she can be abrasive and she's definitely not afraid to tell it like it is. (Except for volume, not too different from Talon but don't tell her I said that!) While she does have a habit of teasing the other girls for shits and giggles, at the end of the day, she's a loyal friend who's always got your back whether it be help for a complicated dance technique or lending a hand with changing a flat tire.  
Lailani immigrated from the Philippines with her family when she was just a baby. While she's a gifted dancer, having trained in ballet since she was little, I was surprised to learn she's a talented magician as well! Poor Eli, having no experience with slight-of-hand, was beside himself as her card tricks baffled him to no end.  
Karen is...odd, to put it kindly. She seems to space out constantly and blurt out whatever pops in her hear at the moment. "Hey, do you know horned lizards shoot out blood from their eyes as a defense mechanism? That'd be cool to do, just like 'Hey, get away!' and go 'squirt'! Heh heh!"  Deb tells me Karen is like this due to her parents being former hippies and might have conceived her while tripping on acid or so she claims.
Cassie had told the girls that this was my first slumber party so they were all eager to give me the "classic" slumber party experience.  Makeovers, games, talking about boys (or girls), the works.  As I promised, I made sure the girls didn't bother Talon, who only gave a piercing glare at they pulled out their makeup kits.
While the girls partnered up, Eli decided to give Talon some company by playing Street Fighter II on my Genesis.  Cassie browsed through my music library to play some mood music as a flurry of eyeliners, lipsticks and nail polish went wild.
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I'm still not used to putting on makeup except for special or formal events, but even then it was my Mum who usually applied it. However, while trying to decide what to put on my face, Stacey only made a puzzled look.
"What's wrong?", I asked nervously, fearful that she would say no amount of makeup in the world would make me look presentable.
"Nothing. It's just...you don't really need that much makeup, Penny. You have very clear skin."
"Heh. A few years ago, my face was pretty damn spotty."
"Really? You don't have any acne scars or anything like that. What'd you do?"
Of course, I couldn't tell her that when I received my powers, it not only made me taller and fatter, it also cleared my skin and fixed my vision.
"Umm...just got committed to washing my face more thoroughly and acne cream, I guess?"
She smiled, "I'll admit I feel a bit jealous. I wish my face and skin were as nice as yours. I sweat even a teensy bit, my face practically explodes with zits."
The idea that somebody was actually envious of me, even if it was just my skin, was an alien concept to me. I gave out a snort, "Give over! I know you're not jealous of all this. What with my chipmunk cheeks and quadruple chins!"
Stacey's brow furrowed a bit, "Hey now. I wouldn't fib to you about that!"
She leaned over her shoulder and yelled to Joanie, who was busy applying facial cream to Amanda. "Joanie! Doesn't Penny have a super pretty face?"
"Oh, yeah, those big green eyes are to die for, Penny! Eli's a lucky guy!"
"Hell yeah, I am!", Eli called out, not taking his eyes off the screen.
"If you say so...", I muttered as Stacey applied very light touches of eyeliner.
It wasn't long before the intercom buzzed.
Cassie let out a loud gasp as she scrambled to her feet, "It's here!"
Pushing the button, she let out a a chipper "Y'ello?"
A man's voice came from the other side, "Yeah, I got an order of four pepperoni, four mushroom, four cheese, four Italian sausage, four Canadian bacon, four supremes, four-"
"Yes, yes! That's us! Come on up!", Cassie interrupted, practically bouncing on her feet as we could all hear her stomach give a tremendous growl.
"Cassie!", Tamika yelped, her eyes wide from surprise, "How are you still hungry?! You literally ate three foot-long hot dogs on the way over here!"
"Yeah, where the hell do you put it all?", Amanda added.
Cassie lifted up her shirt and rubbed her trim belly with the slightest hint of abs showing. "Hee hee! You girls should know by now that I got an appetite! It may be small but there's always room in my tummy!"
Everybody got up to help the poor pizza man out as he had stacks and stacks of pizza boxes to carry in.  I could only imagine what he must've thought seeing a gang of scantily clad college girls in various states of make-up, a handsome shaggy-haired boy, a tall buff girl staring daggers at him ("He might be an assassin."), and a massive blob of a girl stuck on the couch.
Then came two of the more harrowing moments of the party.
First, and as I said before, I decided to put on my "pajamas".  It was a dark blue silk two-piece outfit consisting of a tank top and shorts. I would feel a little more comfortable with it if it did a better job of covering my belly. The sad thing is this is the more conservative piece as the others tend to be more like nighties with short skirts.
With Cassie and Eli "helping" me walk to my room then back into the living room, I was certain the girls would stop and stare at this half-naked super fat girl in their midst. It certainly didn't help my mood by seeing all the girls in their sleeping clothes, mainly tank tops, crop tops and short shorts, showing off their super toned dancer bodies.
If it bothered them, they didn't show it as they happily munched on pizza and only gave friendly smiles as I plopped back down on the couch.  What shocked me most was that Karen actually got up and laid her head against my belly. I couldn't help but give a small yelp at the sensation of somebody other than Eli or Cassie touching my body.
"Ooh! You're really warm, Penny! And soft! Girls, come try this out!", she called out to the others as she nuzzled her head deeper and deeper into my blubber like an overly affectionate cat.  Stacey was about to scold her for her cheekiness but it was too late, the girls were upon me like piranha to a piece of meat.  It was...very surreal, to say the least, mostly because I was certain at least one of them would find me gross. Instead, they softly kneaded my fat, giving "oohs" and "aahs" at the sensation.
I know I probably should've told them to knock it off but as long as they weren't doing it out of malice, what was the harm?
The other harrowing moment was one I was both excited and fearful for: Talon's Halloween Movie Selection. Knowing Talon's tastes, it wasn't going to be a classic Universal Monster movie or a cheesy 50's B-Movie. As the girls' attentions was on me, they failed to notice Talon quietly going through her duffel bag and pull out a hefty stack of rental movies from the video store.
She cleared her throat to get everyone's attention. "Which one do you want to watch first?", she muttered. In her hands, she held An American Werewolf in London, Zombie, Last House on the Left, The Evil Dead, The Beyond, Intruder, The Shining and Suspiria.
I must be like a giant teddy bear to everybody as Eli took his usual spot atop my right hip, his weight sinking into my fat. The girls followed suit, laying their heads against my legs and belly. Only Talon refused to join in with the others, knowing that she doesn't like intimate contact at all.  
While most of the movies were, well, scary and shocking and disgusting and gory, Suspiria was probably the one that got under the girls' skin as it took place in a dance school. A little too close to home, that one.
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"Oh God, I'd hate to fall into a pit of razor wire like that!", Lailani gulped, thinking of the grim fate of one victim.
"What if Miss Avery was a witch?!", Amanda squeaked out, thinking of their dance instructor, "Didn't she go to Germany for some convention last year?"
"Fuck me, you're right!" Deb cursed, "Is she part of a coven?!"
Karen giggled, "Maybe if we dress up as witches at practice, she won't try to kill us. She'll think 'I can't kill them! They're my fellow witches!'."
"Oh, you sweet, sweet innocent child.", Joanie said, rubbing Karen's head, "I know it was just a movie but...jeez!"
"Why did that dog attack his owner?", Eli asked sadly, "Is he okay?"
"No! He got his throat ripped out!", Tamika answered, "You don't walk away from that!"
"I was talking about the dog. Did he find a new owner?"
Sensing Eli's distress, I held his hand and gave him a peck on the cheek.   "It's all right, sweetie. I'm sure he's fine, although he may want to lay low for a while."
Looking around me, I could tell that Eli wasn't the only one stressed out. We did just watch several horror movies back to back so all the girls seemed on edge. Except Talon who was trying to fight off a losing battle against sleep, her eyes looking very droopy.
"Do you all want to watch something a little more...cheerier?", I asked, the image of the woman getting her eye stabbed out in Zombie, still fresh in my mind.
Eli, Cassie and the Girls all looked at me and solemnly nodded.
(A half hour later...)
youtube
"OH WELLA WELLA WELLA UH
TELL ME MORE, TELL ME MORE
DID YOU GET VERY FAR?
TELL ME MORE, TELL ME MORE
LIKE DOES HE HAVE A CAR?"
We all sang at the top of our lungs as we watched Grease in the wee morning hours while Talon slept on, snuggled up in her sleeping bag and ear plugs firmly in place.
Happy very, very, VERY Belated Halloween, everybody!
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backtothestart02 · 7 years
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Christmas with the Newlyweds | A westallen x parkwest fanfiction
For @inksmudge on her birthday!! Happy Birtheday, hun!! You’re amazing and deserve everything!!!
(I’m really cutting it close here, but it’s still in before midnight, so it still counts in my book!! lol. I hope you enjoy it, dear! - And everyone else too!!)
*Big thanks to @valeriemperez for beta’ing on such short notice & getting it back to me just in time! You’re awesome!!
Synopsis: 4x09 - Canon Divergent - The Christmas Party goes as planned with no arrests and no interruptions, except for a couple surprise visitors.
Rating: General Audiences
Romantic Pairings: Barry & Iris, Wally & Linda
 Settled at the kitchen, her ankle pleasantly brushing up against her husband’s knee, Iris took in the surroundings. It was a shame Cecile – and Wally – couldn’t be here to experience it, but there was so much joy and happiness humming in the air. After the tension of the last couple days, after fretting about how she’d let her levelheadedness as a leader swamp every nerve ending in her body that screamed at her – what if? What if Barry doesn’t make it? What if you made the right call but you lost the love of your life all over again and this time he couldn’t be brought back? What if???
But the familiar rush that tossed her hair about and sent chills racing down her spine returned to her as if it had never left. And there he was – tired, exhausted, but all Barry. All hers and back in her arms. He was barely letting go, but she needed to just hold onto him for a while, to breathe in his scent, feel the warmth of his body holding her too, and forget all her worries. Because she almost lost him, but she hadn’t.
And now they were at a Christmas party with almost everybody they loved. Ralph is questionably pleasant, but she wouldn’t let herself be bothered by that. Even Dominic was a welcome addition. She smiled to herself, counting her blessings. Even the mystery of why there had been no counter attack from Devoe could be dismissed tonight. It was Christmas, her first Christmas as a wife – and in this moment, she couldn’t be happier.
“What?” she heard Barry say and flicked her eyes in his direction.
“Hmm?”
His sappy, incredibly sexy grin made her feel hot all over, a feeling which miraculously subsided when she remembered there were people no more than a few feet away.
“What’re you thinking about?” he asked, nudging her foot a little with his leg.
She bit her bottom lip, smiling.
“Just thinking how lucky we are.” She reached her hand across the table. Barry met it halfway and intertwined their fingers. “How happy I am.”
He pulled their hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles.
“Me too. And it’s only going to get better.”
She had to look away after a while because the pure adoration in his eyes was almost overwhelming. Her gaze fell to his ring finger when he set their hands back on the table, and she felt her heart leap into her throat.
“What?” he asked again, a teasing lilt to his voice as he smiled at her.
“It’s nothing. I just…”
He raised his eyebrows, waiting.
“I can’t believe we’re finally married,” she admitted, her eyes shining. “This is our first Christmas together as a married couple and God, that ring looks really good on your finger.” She gave a short laugh, aware that she was gushing over such a simple thing.
“Oh yeah?” he asked, lifting her hand and angling it so her rings could be seen. “Your wedding band doesn’t look too shabby either.”
She rolled her eyes, fighting a smile.
“That’s different. I’ve had this diamond on my finger for months. You’ve had time to get used to it. Adding a wedding band to it shouldn’t come as big of a surprise to you. Your ring on the other hand…is new to me.”
Barry laughed. “Used to it?” He shook his head. “Iris, I am never going to get used to the fact that you’re my wife.”
Iris felt the shivers run up and down her spine as he said that word.
“You say it so nonchalantly.” She looked away again, bashful even though she had no need to be. Barry practically quoted romantic soliloquys to her in his sleep. “As if-”
“It’s not the reason stars burn bright and time stands still?”
She lifted her gaze to his. “Isn’t it, though?”
Barry’s eyes softened, and he started to lean in. Iris could already feel the press of his lips and the warmth of his breath before he’d descended far enough to touch her.
The moment their lips brushed, there was a knock on the door. Regretfully they turned to see who it was, and everyone else broke from their conversations out of mild curiosity as well.
“Oh my God, Wally!” Iris immediately sprang to her feet and crossed the room, engulfing her brother in a ginormous hug the second she spotted his face as he walked through the door. Joe barely had a chance to get his hello in before his daughter interrupted.
“Hey, Iris,” Wally gushed in return. “I’ve missed you, too.”
“I thought you were in Cambodia,” Joe said when Iris finally released her brother.
“I was,” he confirmed. “But, I, uh, met someone there.”
A devilish glint shone in Joe and Iris’ – and to be fair everyone’s – eyes as Wally started to babble.
“She…” He cleared his throat. “She-”
“She thought,” the pretty woman pushed past him from on the step behind him, “that this boy had better see his family for the holidays, since she hadn’t seen them in a while either.”
Iris’ jaw dropped. Barry’s slow stride suddenly sped up a little, just as shocked as the rest of them.
“I don’t get it. Who’s this?” Ralph asked in the two-second silence.
“Oh, my God, Linda?!” Iris pushed her brother aside, nearly causing him to fall over as their dad caught him in his arms. “What were you… You were in Cambodia?!” She pulled back from the crushing hug. “How did you – wait.” Suddenly everything clicked. “Are you and my brother—”
“Together?” Linda let the single word hang in the deafening silence as the surrounding guests waited with baited breath. Her eyes shifted over to a bashful yet proud Wally standing in the corner. “In a manner of speaking,” she allowed.
Harry slowly walked up between them.
“You do know that he just got out of a very serious relationship…”
“Harry-” Joe warned.
“With my daughter,” he continued, tuning the older West out.
The tension was so thick in the room, Iris couldn’t decide whether to defend her brother or Linda or even Harry on Jesse’s behalf.
“So did I,” Linda retorted.
“What?” Barry and Iris asked simultaneously.
“With who?” Cisco demanded, having re-emerged into the house when he saw Wally and Linda walking up the front steps from the street outside.
“Does it matter?” She raised an eyebrow daringly.
Cisco’s eyes squinted but he said nothing.
“You have a vibing girlfriend who just sent you a sex cube, Cisco,” Caitlin muttered under her breath.
“I’m aware of that,” Cisco said defensively. “I was just asking who-”
Joe closed his eyes and pressed a hand to his forehead before moving out of the cluster of individuals towards the kitchen.
“I need some ‘nog,” he said, heading straight for the mug that he decided had his name written all over it.
Harry stayed glaring at Linda for a while before she finally matched his pointed stare with one of her own.
“We’re taking it slow,” she said, genuine in her response, not in her tone. “I’m no more interested in jumping into something that might very well crash and burn than he is, I assure you. And I would be happy to meet your daughter at any time, since Wally has done nothing but talk fondly of her.”
Harry relaxed some, glanced over at Wally, then back at Linda.
“I’m happy for you two,” he suddenly said and headed in the direction Joe had gone.
Linda looked at Wally for an explanation, but he shrugged helplessly, so she turned to Iris who quickly looped her arm around hers and tugged her across the room.
“Tell me everything about Cambodia,” she gushed, looking pointedly over her shoulder at Wally as they walked farther away. “You’re next.”
Wally pointed to his chest, a degree of fear reverberating there.
“Me? What did I-”
“Come on, man,” Barry said, saving him and squeezing his shoulder from the other side. “Sit by the fireplace with us. It’s way better than whatever they have in Cambodia.”
Wally laughed and nodded. “Okay, yeah, I’ll do that.”
Barry grinned, more of his pearly whites shining through when the door opened once again to reveal and unexpected by warmly embraced Cecile and Joanie Horton. That entrance really boosted up Joe’s mood, and in no time Harry was borderline terrorizing Joanie on what she planned to do with her future, surprising them all when she said simply, “I’m thinking something scientific.”
Later she responded to Iris’ questing for a more specific position in the scientific field, “Oh my God, I hate science.” Iris almost spit out her eggnog. “But that guy would not shut up. What was I supposed to do? Endure lectures about my future all evening. On Christmas?”
Iris stifled her laughter. “No, of course not. Never on Christmas.”
Joanie didn’t catch the sarcastic undertones, and in a minute she was gone to pour herself the much coveted eggnog on the kitchen table. The complaint of why her grandmother’s eggnog hadn’t been made was immediately dismissed when she tasted the recipe that apparently had come straight from Ralph’s family going back several generations.
“We are going to be drunk,” Joe said, staring down into the beverage that likely contained more alcohol than anything else.
Iris laughed to herself and traveled to Barry a while later after catching up with Wally and Linda.
“Hey, Handsome,” she cooed, landing as solidly on his lap as he had before.
She felt his hand cup her ass and smiled without saying a word. His next words melted away the amusement buzzing inside her.
“Hello, Wife.”
“God, I love hearing you say that.” She started to lean in.
“Oh yeah?” he whispered when she was a breath away.
“Yeah.” She nodded, silencing him a moment later with a kiss.
Once. Twice. Three times.
Joe cleared his throat loudly.
They parted and looked up to find everyone suddenly staring at them.
“Keep it PG, would you?” Joe said. “I don’t want to send you two home too. You’re family.”
“I came back!” Cisco interjected, but it was ignored.
“We’re newlyweds,” Barry defended.
Iris wiggled her finger and gushed as her husband held his hand up to showcase his own ring.
“Iris West-Allen, remember, Dad?”
Joe tried to remain strong, but softened a little under the reminder. He managed to point a finger at them accusingly.
“PG,” he repeated and walked back into the kitchen.
“I think it’s cute,” Linda said from her position squished beside Wally in a massive chair. “Flaunt that all you want.”
Iris laughed. “Actually, I have an idea.”
“Oh?” Barry raised his eyebrows, simultaneously curious and amused.
“Mhmm.” Iris managed to get to her feet and lead him across the room away from most of the guests. She stopped right exactly beneath the mistletoe Ralph had thankfully managed to place amidst his many decorations.
“Oh…I see, Mrs. West-Allen. Very clever.”
Her eyes glittered. “Thank Ralph.”
“Hey, nooo,” the taller, annoying man whined, but they paid it no mind.
Iris grabbed onto the collar of her husband’s shirt and pulled his down to her, thrilling in the way he cupped her face, sunk his fingers into her hair, and kissed her as if no one was watching.
“PG,” she whispered when he tried to stick his tongue into her mouth.
He sighed regretfully, but nodded. “Later.”
Her eyes glinted mischievously as she lowered herself from up on her tiptoes and clasped their hands together, rejoining the crowd settling down to open Christmas presents.
*Also posted on AO3 and FFnet.
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betweensceneswriter · 7 years
Text
Second Wife-Chapter 14: The Crowded Bed
Second Wife Table of Contents
Second Wife on AO3
Previously -  Chapter 13 : Letters and Lallybroch The Balriggan Frasers take a trip to Lallybroch.
‘I could feel her hand on him,’ she whispered. ‘In our bed. Lying there between us, wi’ her hand on him, so he would stiffen and cry out to her in his sleep. She was a witch. I always knew.’” (Drums of Autumn 479.)
     In the kitchen, Jenny was looking at Laoghaire with a knowing smile.  “Well, Laoghaire,” she said.  “Jamie looks well.  He was like a ghost, roaming the halls here at Hogmanay.  But I was watching as he arrived, and he and Joanie were laughing as they climbed off their horse.  I know Joanie is Simon’s, but she nearly looks like she could be his own.”
     Laoghaire smiled mildly.  She was mixing up the crust for Marsali’s birthday dessert, a rich tart filled with fruit and nuts, and she didn’t want to mis-measure any of her ingredients.  Mrs. Fitz had drilled that into her mind, that’s for certain. 
     When yer baking, lass, ye canna be distracted, Laoghaire could almost hear her gran talking.  Making a stew, dinna fash, you can throw in anything in any order, long as you don’t triple the salt.  But wi’ bakin’, the measurements matter.
     When she’d finished measuring, Laoghaire began pinching together the butter and flour, rubbing the ingredients between her fingers until the butter was evenly worked in, and the crumbly mix was ready for adding cold water.
     When Laoghaire had finished mixing up the crust and was pressing it into a ball to roll out, she realized Jenny was standing, looking at her.
      “Laoghaire,” she said.  “You arna happy.  What is it?”
      “Jamie may not be a ghost anymore, but there’s another spirit haunting our marriage.”
      “I ken we like to joke about the faeries, but are ye speaking of a real ghost?”
      “Feels real enough,” Laoghaire responded, but then at Jenny’s confused silence, she continued.  “She’s been dead and gone for 18 years.”  She dusted the counter top with flour.  “Eighteen years, and yet she’s still here.”
      “She?” queried Jenny. “D’ye mean Claire?”
     Laoghaire winced at the name, and nodded.
      “Then ye’ve seen her, wandering about?”  Jenny’s eyes were wide.  She hadn’t told anyone what she had seen at the wedding, the apparition of a dark-haired woman standing between Laoghaire and Jamie as they made their vows.
      “No,” Laoghaire shook her head as she deliberately began rolling the crust as evenly as possible.  She took pride in never having to re-roll her crusts, which would make them tough.  She shook her head again. “No.” 
      “Then what can ye mean, Laoghaire?”
      “I canna explain it.  It was so many years ago at Leoch that I loved Jamie, and she came between us then.  And she might have died at Culloden, but in Jamie’s heart, she’s still alive.  He cries out for her when he sleeps.  He isna mine.”
      “Does he not…” Jenny hesitated.  “Want ye?”
     Laoghaire looked around for children or eavesdropping servants.  Finding none, she continued, “Well, he did, but it felt so wrong.  I was used to Simon’s ways, and Jamie was touching me as if what he did should please me, like he was waiting for something from me. But it wasna really for me.  It was for someone else’s body.  I dinna ken what he’s waitin’ for, and I canna help but think of her.”
     Jenny frowned thoughtfully.  “Well, having only been wi’ Ian, I canna truly understand what ye are saying.  But I guess it might be like nursin’ someone else’s bairn.  I’ve done it before, to be kind, or when the mother couldna make it back in time for the next feeding.  But it doesna feel quite right.”
     Laoghaire folded the thinly rolled circle of dough into fourths, then gently lifted it into the pan, unfolding it again to line the bottom and sides of the tart tin.
     “’Tis not the only thing in marriage, though,” Jenny said reassuringly.  “Are there some things that are good?” Her brow was wrinkled in concern.  She had been an advocate of the relationship from the beginning, and she felt responsible.
     “Oh, aye,” said Laoghaire.  “We are provided for, and I feel safe.  There is money for meat at the market, and I’ve been able to sew a new dress for each of the girls.  Everything that used to be broken is repaired, and the goats and cows have never produced more milk, nor the chickens more eggs.  Our fields are planted, and it already looks like ‘twill be a good crop.”
     Jenny sighed in relief.  “I’m glad to hear it.  And he’s good with the girls?”
     Laoghaire smiled. “That he is.  Reads to them, prays wi’ them at night.  But I just wish he needed me; that he loved me more.”
      “My brother…is a passionate man.  But he’s a man.  I dinna think he knows how to love without touchin, as well.”
      “The girls like it when he pets them, but it isna something I like.  I’m not a cat.”  Laoghaire said irritably, eyeing the well-fed mouser that had wandered in the open door of the kitchen.
      “Is there anything that might make it easier for ye to come together in the bedroom?”  Jenny didn’t ask in a nosy way, Laoghaire thought.  She asked like a friend or sister who wished to help solve a problem. 
     Again, Laoghaire looked around the kitchen, fearful of eavesdroppers.  “Well, there is one thing,” she answered.  “The last time Jamie took me to bed, I had been thinking about us when we were young.  And my…well…down there…it was wet.  When Jamie came to me, it didna hurt like it always did wi’ Simon and Hugh.  And I wondered if there was a way to make that happen again.  I dinna like it when he puts his hands on my body, though, or touches me there.”
     Jenny’s face lightened with understanding.  “Oh, I ken.  Ye can just use an oil.  If you put it on yerself, or he puts on himself, if ye prefer, it makes it easier.”
     Laoghaire blushed furiously.  “But then, well, when I had Joanie, I tore badly, at the front.  And the scars cause it to hurt.”
     Jenny moved in closer to Laoghaire.  “Now, ye will never tell my brother I said this to ye,” she insisted in a serious whisper.
      “Aye,” Laoghaire agreed, nervously.
      “Ye might…”  Jenny struggled to find her words.  “Ye might try it from behind.”
      “Why?”  Laoghaire exclaimed. “And how?”
      “It presses on your body differently.  It might not hit the scar tissue the same.  And how?”  Jenny flushed furiously.  “Stand on the floor, and lean yer elbows onto yer bed.  He’ll figure it out quickly enough.  He’s grown up watchin’ horses; that’s probably how he thought it should be done from the first.” 
     A bunch of chattering interrupted their conversation, to the great relief of both women, and soon they were surrounded by children begging for “just a wee bite” of the shortbread cookies cooling on the counter.
     They had begun their journey at daybreak, and after the long trip and helping with the baking, Laoghaire was quite weary.  She withdrew to the guest room where Jenny had put her and Jamie;  Marsali and Joan would be sleeping with Kitty and Janet.  As she lay on her bed, snippets of memory came to her, moments that changed the course of her life, moments that tore Jamie away from her.
☆☆☆☆☆
     When the shout first came out that the rents party had returned, Laoghaire was incredibly nervous, but deliriously happy.  Her hands were shaky as she untied her apron and rushed to the dull mirror in the kitchen.  She straightened her hair, tying it back neatly.  She pinched her cheeks to pink them, and then joined the procession of clansmen and women, servants and maids, that were heading toward the hall.  Colum would be greeting the returned travelers, and she would be greeting Jamie.
     When she first saw him, her heart leapt. His hair had grown in the time away.  He looked older, more manly, stood more confidently.  Och, he was gorgeous.  She felt it in the pit of her stomach, that deep longing to have him near her.  She hoped they would be able to slip away again.  Surely after several months, he would be eager to reacquaint himself with her body.  She felt her abdomen involuntarily clench inside at the thought of his body, his lips, and his hands on her.  How long would he wait to ask for her hand?…Why wasn’t he looking for her?
     But then she saw that the Sassenach was holding his arm.  When she heard her grandmother’s voice exclaiming joyfully, “They’re marrit !!” she thought she was going to vomit.  Or faint.  Or both.  The blood had drained from her face, and she was breathing shallowly. 
     That witch.  He had married that witch.
     As people began to understand what it meant, that Jamie had married a Sassenach, a wind of whispers began.  “Jamie canna be laird now!”  “Dougal must be happy, but d’ye see the look on Colum’s face?” “Why’d he marry her?  Didna we think he should be with one of the lasses from the castle?”  “I thought I’d seen him with the bonny blonde-haired lass whose beating he took.”
     Shaking with fury, Laoghaire considered the expressions she saw on three faces.  Colum looked grimly angry.  Jamie was white-faced, particularly when Colum acknowledged Lady Broch Tuarach, but not Laird Broch Tuarach.  And the Sassenach looked bitter and annoyed, as if she couldn’t stand for Jamie to be touching her.
     They weren’t happy, that was obvious.  And she was miserable.  Laoghaire couldn’t understand why he would do such a thing.
     The story circulated quickly enough.  The Sassenach had been captured by Captain Jack Randall, the fierce Redcoat captain whose name was feared the Highlands over, and it sounded like he had beaten her.  Good, thought Laoghaire bitterly.  Because Mistress Beauchamp was an English subject, she could be compelled to turn herself in to the British, and Dougal didn’t want her witnessing against him, so he decided to make her a Scot by having her marry a Scotsman.  It was complex, but at least it explained why Jamie would have done such a thing.
     Her quick conversation with Jamie in the hallway left her with more questions than answers.
     But during the wee hours of the night, she began to form a plan.  And the next day, before she could dissuade herself, she had laced up her corset over her bare skin, pulled her cloak on, and with one last look in the mirror, she headed to the river.  She knew she would find Jamie there.
     But it had all gone wrong.  Laoghaire had run blindly away from the river, sobbing and struggling to pull her cloak over her shoulders.  She was mortified, humiliated, furious, devastated.  That witch got Jamie to make a vow, and he was so noble, he was keeping it, no matter how unhappy he was to be married to that cold English bitch.  No matter how much he wanted her.  She had seen it in his eyes, the way he had looked at her body, had put his hand on her willingly, had caressed her with his long, strong fingers.  Why had he denied himself?  How could he deny his feelings for her?
     She couldn’t go to the castle.  She couldn’t risk seeing the Sassenach, or she’d be likely to commit murder and go to prison, so she turned toward the village and home, blinking away the tears and trying to control her sobs.
      “Lass!”  The voice was deep, husky, and gentle.  “Are ye well, lass?”
     Laoghaire wiped her eyes, one with the back of her hand and the other with the heel of her palm.
      “No,” she answered, not yet able to see clearly.  Before she knew what was happening, she was pulled in to a firm embrace, two long arms wrapping around her.  He was murmuring comforting words to her, and when her shoulders stopped shaking, he took her by the arms and held her away from him to look in her eyes.
      “You!” she said.
      “Jamie Fraser’s lass,” he said, smiling.
      “No,” she said.  “He isna mine.  He…is…married!” She burst into tears, and John Robert put his arm about her again. 
      “Now, now, aonan milis,” he crooned.  “He doesn’t deserve such a beauty.  How can he not see what is right before him?” 
      “It’s that Sassenach witch,” Laoghaire managed to blurt out, burying her cheek in his chest again. He was strong, and warm, and he smelled of woodsmoke and herbs. 
      “Aye, I told ye, he isna good enough for ye.”  John Robert said.  He was beginning to walk with her, one arm around her shoulders, in the direction of her house.
     They were passing the tavern, when John Robert stopped her.  “Wait here,” he said.  “I’d like to buy you some tea, but I dinna want to be surrounded by a crowd.  I’ll rent a private room, and you can rest and have tea like a real lady.”
     Laoghaire stood in the street in front of the tavern as she waited, nervously pulling the edges of her cloak more tightly together.  She knew she should keep walking—her house was only a few blocks beyond the tavern.  But John Robert’s handsome face, the way she felt when he held her, and her dismay over Jamie convinced her to remain anyway.  In the future, she would say that she could see where the road was leading, and Jamie’s rejection hurt her so thoroughly that she chose the path anyway
     “Your parlor awaits,” John Robert said, gallantly offering her his arm.   It did seem somewhat strange that he led her into the alley and up a narrow staircase before they entered the prettily decorated parlor, with a tea table and two chairs, as well as a fainting couch.
     “May I take your cloak?” he asked.  Laoghaire blanched.  But then, eyeing him critically, she gently opened the front of the cloak, exposing her corseted torso.
     John Robert gasped.  “Oh, lass.  Did he refuse you?  In all this beauty?”  With no hesitation, he was in front of her, asking permission with his eyes.
     It was what she had wished for with Jamie.  It began the same way, with John Robert pulling her onto the couch to sit on his lap, kissing and caressing her lips and face, stroking down her back.  When he gently pushed the sides of her cloak off her shoulders and saw her bare neck and bosom he was overcome, pupils dark with desire.
      “Mo chraidhe,” he whispered.  “Aon àlainn, my beautiful one.  Ye are so sweet and lovely.”  Swallowing hard, he had gently undone the laces, gasping when he was finished and she was released from the pressure, and her breasts, full and heavy, were revealed.
     He laid her back against the couch, then, and traced the circles of her nipples with his fingertips, then lips, then tongue.  She was breathless, astounded, overcome with the sensations.  This time, when a hand traveled up her thigh, she did not stop it.  When he parted the hair and dipped his fingers into that place, it stunned her.  It felt like she was floating above her body, the sensation so otherworldly. 
      “Are you a maid, lass?” he had asked.  When Laoghaire nodded yes, he had taken one of the napkins from the table and laid it on the couch beneath her.  He had barely disrobed—just unbuttoning the front of his breeks.  And as he entered her, as he gently took her maidenheid, John Robert continued to whisper words of affection, extolling her beauty, assuring her of his undying admiration.
     Traveling the rest of the way home, she had been floating on air.  Jamie Fraser could go hang.  She was going to be married to John Robert MacLeod, who loved her as none other had.  She felt beautiful, desirable, vindicated, hopeful.
☆☆☆☆☆
John Robert MacLeod, Laoghaire thought bitterly.  John Robert MacLeod, the married man from Killiecrankie.
Chapter 15 : By the Ballocks Jenny’s always been good at putting Jamie in his place.
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mel-the-fangirl · 7 years
Text
Race - Requested
Sam Holland x Reader, Harry Holland x Reader
Words: 1,599
Requested by: @voidxkenobi; I really, really hope you like it. Your other request is on its way :)
“I wanted to request a Harry and Sam imagine where they try to win the reader’s attention.”
This is my first ever requested fic, so I really, really apologise if it’s not up to par. If you have any requests, please message or comment below. Thanks so much!
-------------------------------------------------------------
It was a rather hot day today, the sweat was making your thighs stick together uncomfortably. You looked to the air condition in your room, it was almost like it was taunting you.
“C’mon, you sodding thing, do your job!” you yelled at it, the heat making you aggravated
The sound of your voice bounced off your bedroom walls. You sighed and shook your head, it was never a good sign when you started to yell at inanimate objects. With a huff, you picked up your phone and called up one of your best friends.
Riiiiiing…
“Harry fucking Holland, you better pick up or else-“
Riiiiiing…
“-I’m going to fuck you up so bad. I fucking swear it,-“
“Hello?” a female voice finally answered
“-your life will be hell-Oh, hello?”
“Y/N? Hi, love!” Harry’s mum, Nikki, greeted you
Crap. You wished she didn’t hear any of the threats you were giving her son.
“Hi, Nikki! How are you?” you asked politely, trying to cover for yourself
She laughed through the other end of the line. “I’m rather good. Harry and Sam are busy, I’m afraid. They’re working on-“
“Is that Y/N?” you heard a voice in the background
“Yes, it is. But I was telling her you two were busy.” Nikki’s voice sounded farther away
“No. No, I’m not busy! Hello?” Harry’s deep voice finally filled your ears
You couldn’t help but chuckle at him. “Busy?” you asked teasingly
“What? Me? Love, I’m never busy for you.” He flirted unashamedly
Just as you were about to reply, you hear Harry groan in pain.
“Harry? Harry, what happened? Are you alright?”
“Hey, Y/N!” another deep voice greeted you
Sam.
You didn’t think you were ever going to get sick of these twins’ antics. The picture was clear in your head, Sam had either wrestled Harry for the phone or hit him for it.
“Hey, Sam. Listen, it’s rather hot and my AC decided to be a shit today, can we go out for some ice cream?”
Sam felt his heart race with anticipation, he hasn’t been able to hang out with you for quite some time. Same goes for Harry.
“Yes. Definitely. We’re going to Joanie’s, I presume?” he felt a gust of pride for remembering your favourite ice cream parlour
You, in turn, felt a new rush of excitement. Oh, come on. Ice cream at your favourite place with your best friends? The day was already looking up.
“Hell. Yes. I’m going to get ready, see you two in a bit!”
“I’ll be there, love.” Sam was just about to end the call when Harry snatched the phone out of his hands
“He means we! We’ll be there, Y/N!” Harry interjected
The last thing you heard before ending the call was Harry saying,
“Alright, look here you twat. She called me, not you-“
Those silly boys, you thought to yourself with a smile. You dressed quickly, throwing on the first decent outfit you could come up with.
“I’m going out!” you yelled to the occupants of your house as you jogged out the door
It wasn’t far so you opted to walk. The sun was shining, its light breaking into fragments through the tall trees that lined the street. Your walk to the ice cream parlour was uneventful, though you stopped every so often to pet some dogs you saw on the way.
Joanie’s was your absolute favourite place in this city, as you stepped through the doors, you were reminded of why. You felt as though you took a step back in time with every visit.
There was a functioning jukebox in the corner, Sinatra crooning softly through the speakers. The white pinstriped walls were hung with vintage photographs and the black and white checkered floor was so shiny, you could see your reflection in it as you walked to one of the red vinyl booths next to the window.
You slid into the seat and waited patiently for the twins to arrive. You turned you back to the window, perusing the list of flavours hung on top of the counter.
As you were deciding between two of them, a bell chimed, signaling someone’s entrance. You looked over to see Harry striding confidently towards you with a sweet smile on his face.
You stood up to greet him and he engulfed you in a big hug, Harry was such a hugger even though he vehemently denied it. You two pulled away and Harry took a moment to admire your gorgeous face.
“You look beautiful today, Y/N.”
Heat flooded your cheeks as you looked up at your tall friend. Your moment was interrupted by the parlour door slamming open. You didn’t notice the way Harry squeezed his eyes shut in mild annoyance.
Looking over Harry’s shoulder, you saw Sam stalking towards you. He was drenched in sweat and he had a beautiful bouquet of flowers in his hand.
“Sam’s here!”
“Perfect.” Harry muttered under his breath
Sam threw Harry a dirty look as he passed him but when he looked at you his smile was genuine. He handed you the flowers and he hugged you tightly.
“Oh wow! Sam, you shouldn’t have.” You took a whiff of the gorgeous arrangement and exhaled contentedly
“Yeah, Sam. You really shouldn’t have,” Harry grumbled from behind his twin
The three of you sat in you booth. Harry slid in first, followed by you, then Sam. It was a tight squeeze, seeing as you were all sitting on the same side.
“So, uh, Sam. Why are you all sweaty? And why didn’t you two arrive together?” you asked, gently placing Sam’s bouquet on the table
Sam chuckled. “It’s a funny story actually,” He smirked at Harry threateningly
“I was just about to get my bike, you see. But-OW WHAT THE HELL?!” he suddenly exclaimed, rubbing his ear.
From behind your back, Harry had tugged Sam’s earlobe, hard.
You whipped around and glared at both boys. “What is happening here? You guys are being stranger than usual.”
“Nothing! C’mon, Sam. Let’s go get Y/N some ice cream! S’cuse us, love.” Harry gently maneuvered around you and walked with Sam to the counter
That wasn’t weird at all.
You moved to the opposite seat so wouldn’t have to be caught in the twins’ crossfire. They returned, glass bowls of colourful ice cream in their hands. Sam placed the bowl of (insert favourite ice cream flavor here) in front of you with a warm smile.
They both made a move to sit next to you again but you held up a finger.
“No. Go sit over there.” You commanded, pointing to the seats you were previously occupying
The twins frowned but did as you said, sitting in front of you. The initial weirdness thankfully dissipated as you all chatted and ate, you noticed though how Sam and Harry would talk over each other and try to best the other’s stories.
“Oh crap,” you said as your spoon hit the bottom of your glass bowl with a tiny clink “I’m all out.”
It was like an electric current passed through the twins, they both scrambled to grab your empty bowl, almost knocking over their own.
“Whoa!” you exclaimed as you lifted your bowl over your head
You looked at them with an incredulous look on your face. “Seriously?”
They began elbowing each other in what they thought was an inconspicuous manner.
“Let me get that for you, Y/N.” Sam reached up to gently cup your hands
“No, let me, Y/N.” Harry also placed his hands on yours
You quickly let your bowl go so that both of them were holding it in the air like idiots. Crossing your arms, you gave them what they knew was your death glare. They quickly set the bowl down and crossed their arms on the table.
If you weren’t so bewildered by their behavior, you would have found it cute how they were looking right at you with puppy dog eyes.
“Okay. Tell me what’s going on.” you demanded sternly
The twins eyed each other before Harry nodded at Sam.
“I want to take you on a date.” he confessed to you, cheeks turning pink
“And so do I.” Harry added
“But we sort of want you to.. Choose?” Sam told you sheepishly
You were absolutely floored. “You’re joking.”
They shook their heads in unison.
“We’ve been discussing this for a while now. I was supposed to ask you when I arrived but, Sam interrupted.” Harry couldn’t help the accusatory tone that laced his words
Sam, in turn, rolled his eyes. He then looked to you expectantly, Harry did the same.
Wow. In all your years of knowing these boys, you don’t think they’ve ever looked at you like that before.
You sighed, letting your shoulders sag. Your eyes met theirs, brown and green.
“Well, I guess I’d have to say,” The twins held their breath.
“You’ll have to catch me first!”
Slipping swiftly out of the booth, you ran outside Joanie’s. Two sets of hurried footsteps were hot on your trail, they were going to catch up with you in a second if you didn’t think fast. You spotted Sam’s bike leaning against a potted plant.
Yes!
You hopped on and raced away. Your laugh was the only thing the twins reached as they stepped outside. Sam caught a glimpse of you on his bike, turning a corner. He looked to Harry, who had spotted you as well.
They gave each other a knowing smile before they both took off running after you.
This was going to be fun.
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simplyrali · 7 years
Text
Hope Chapter 2 (Jameron fanfiction)
I wasn’t going to write more but...
You can check Chapter 1 here --- https://simplyrali.tumblr.com/post/167405998030/hope-jameron-fanfiction
Chapter 2
It was getting late and everyone was preparing to leave, the time flew so fast. During their dinner everyone very carefully avoided the elephant in the room and kept the topics light. Haley explained to Joe what she had been working on, Donna talked about some new promising company, Joanie questioned Bos and Diane about their trip to Rome. They unpacked presents, joked around…
A few times Cam caught Joe’s eyes and they spent a few seconds just staring until he broke their eye contact. She didn’t even know what she had been searching for. Answers? Feelings? At the end she gave up… at least he wasn’t mad. If he wanted to talk about them they would talk, if he wanted to pretend that nothing happened she was cool with that too. Finally he was here and she’d be damned if she pushed him away again. So she decided to fully enjoy and appreciate this special moment of them all together.
During the night she learned some very interesting information about Joe. He had a Porsche now.  He didn’t go to work for IBM as she suspected. No, he became a teacher. Joe. A teacher. She nearly choked on her wine, which won her a chuckle from Joe. Well, he did have a way with words… Jeez, the guy never failed to surprise her. But still the picture of Macmillan in classroom was a bizzare thought. Was this what he really wanted or just some mask to hide behind again? Mystery, time would show. Oh, well… lucky students, she wished she had such a hot teacher back in the days.
She said her goodbyes to everyone and thanked Haley for the wonderful evening. Bos and Diane had already left and the situation was becoming more and more awkward with every second. Her cue to flee.
Cam pulled her keys and nearly made it to her truck, before she heard Joe calling after her.
“Hey, Cameron! Wait! Wait.” With a few long strides he was next to her, hand on the car door and slightly leaning forward.
“Let’s meet tomorrow, have breakfast or something. I feel like we really need to talk. You know, to clear things between us…”
They needed to talk, huh?
A chance for reconnection.
“Um, sure.”
A slow smile spread across his moonlit face. His eyes catching the light.
Her heart skipped a beat.
Damn, he really was beautiful.
 ***
Old flame never dies.
***
The next day
Cameron pulled in front of the diner and parked her truck near the entrance. Joe was waiting for her outside, casually leaning against his Porsche. Clean-shaven, white shirt and dark sunglasses. That sure brought back memories from Cardiff…
“Hey!” he greeted.
“Hi, you didn’t wait long, did you?” After all she lived far from here, it was a long ride.
“No, don’t worry,” he took his glasses off. “Should we go inside?”
Cam nodded and he opened the door for her with one hand, the other on the small of her back. Always such a gentleman.
Inside the staff was going crazy, a few waitresses were running up and down and the cashier lady was screaming for everybody to calm down. Anna, one of the waitresses and a friend of Cam’s, saw Cameron and took her by the hand.
“Thank god, you called for reservation this morning. Half an hour ago 3 buses of high school students came from nowhere. Excursion or something. They’re like hungry animals! Man, we’re so busy! Do you mind waiting for a little while just so we can get things under control here?”
“Yeah, don’t worry, we’re cool”.
The kids were pushing each other and running everywhere. One boy actually stepped on Joe’s shoe earning himself a dark look. That brought a smile on her face. God, she’d pay money to see him walking down the school corridor.  
“Great, let me show you your table. It’s in the back so you won’t have to worry much about all that noise.”
The table really was in the back which provided them some privacy. Damn, these hormonal little monsters were annoying.  
They both sat down, face to face.
Both leaning forward.
Cam started the conversation.
“That must be a usual sight for you.”
“Huh?” he seemed confused.
“The students.” Cam nodded her head in the kids’ direction.
“Yeah, they are great and all. But they can so exhausting…” He looked down.
A long pause.
Joe didn’t know how to continue next. He was nervous, she could tell. When he brought his eyes back to hers again he was carrying his poker face. Shielding himself. It broke her heart a little. He still expected her to hurt him.
“Cam, I’m sorry - ”
“Joe, no, don’t apologize…”
“No, I need to say this.” He took a deep breath. “For a long time I blamed just you for the end of our relationship. You were the one who didn’t want to commit, always one foot out of the door. It’s like you were running away from me and – “
“It wasn’t like that…” she tried.
“Let me finish. And you did what you did but a lot of it was my fault too. I didn’t keep in touch with you because I needed to clear my head. Judge things without my feelings for you clouding my mind. And I couldn’t do that if I was near you. I needed time to be able to face you again. You know, a long time ago Gordon said to me that I push people no matter if they’re ready or not. I was pushing you. I wanted things from you that hadn’t even crossed my mind when I was your age. Hell, I hadn’t even stepped foot in Cardiff yet… And you just came out of another marriage, where Tom did exactly what I had done. I suffocated you. I chased perfection, always wanting more, and never realized how good was what I actually had. I’m sorry.” His bottom lip slightly shaking.
“You have no idea what these words mean to me. I was at fault too, Joe. I put my needs in front of our future and you don’t do that when you are in relationship. We both took Gordon’s death very hard and it brought different things in us, suddenly our time on earth seemed very limited and we wanted to accomplish our goals. We didn’t know how to share our grief, we didn’t communicate enough. We are so damaged... ” At this point tears were streaming down her face.
He held her right hand in both of his.
“I think we did the same mistake as we did with Comet.” Joe said.
“What do you mean?”
“We gave up too soon. We should have fought for it… It had potential to be more.” His eyes were so intense.
“What are you saying, Joe?”
Hope.
“You know what.”
She swallowed.
Deja vu.
“No… tell me.”
“A fresh start.”
She was shaking so hard. She waited nearly three years for this, to be given a chance to correct what she had done wrong. What they had done wrong. The time had turned into their friend that always helped to heal their wounds and made space for forgiveness in their jaded hearts.
“I would like that.” Cam said between tears with a megawatt smile.
“I have a problem though. You see, I sold my apartment in Armonk with the full intention to give San Francisco a second chance. And long story short, I don’t have a place to stay. For now I’m at a hotel but we both know teachers don’t make a lot of money…” His eyes were playful now, flirting.
“You are in luck because I have a very big house.” Two can play this game.
“Oh, I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. Don’t worry, I’ll pay rent. As I said my pockets are not full of money, but…”
���Wait, who said anything about money?! You can pay me in nature.” Wink.
His laughter filled the entire diner, even a few heads turned their way. Most of the kids now gone.
“Deal.”
Anna finally headed their way with a tray in her hand.
“Well, at least somebody is having a good day. Sorry to have kept you waiting, guys. So what can I get you?”
Joe turned towards Cam. Smile on his lips.
“So, do you know what you want?”  
She held his gaze meaningfully and replied.
“Yes, I know exactly what I want.”
Chapter 3 ---> https://simplyrali.tumblr.com/post/167596266765/hope-chapter-3-jameron-fanfiction
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Text
Bugs- Part 2
Pairing: Eventual Dean x Reader
Word Count: 1,438
Warnings: Typical Supernatural violence, angst, language, minor character death, blood, you know the usual
Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Please, if you want to be tagged for this series, let me know and I’ll add you! If you want to be tagged for my other fics, I’ll add you! I want to hear what you guys think about this. If you want something requested, send it in!
Feedback is always appreciated
Tags at the bottom
Part One
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As Dean was driving through neighborhoods, you saw a house that was decorated with red balloons with a sign that said ‘Open House’.
“I know where we can start.” You pointed out the sign you saw and then you saw another one that said ‘Models Open. New Buyers' BBQ Today!’
“I’m kind of hungry for a little barbeque, how about you?” Dean asked.
“Hell yeah!” You grinned. You loved food. If it was edible, you were eating it.
“Dean.” Sam said knowingly.
“What, we can't talk to the locals?” Dean scoffed.
“The free foods got nothing to do with it?” Sam asked.
“Of course not. I'm a professional.” Dean pulled over and got out with you and Sam.
“Screw that, I’m starving.” You grinned and walked with the boys to the open house.
“You’re always starving.” Sam said.
“Well, yeah.” Everyone knew you loved food. You ate so much of it but none of it went anywhere. You thanked whoever graced you with high metabolism.
“Growing up in a place like this would freak me out.” Dean said as he walked.
“Why?” Sam looked confused.
“Come on, Sam, the well, manicured lawns, the "How was your day, honey?" I'd blow my brains out.” You said for Dean.
“Yeah, that right there.” Dean grinned.
“There’s nothing wrong with normal.” Sam shrugged.
“I’d take our family over normal over any day.” Dean shrugged.
“Who likes being normal? It’s not fun.” You smiled and walked to the front door, knocking. An older gentleman answered the door and you smiled sweetly.
“Is this the barbeque?” Dean asked before you could say anything.
“Yeah, not the best weather, but, I'm Larry Pike, the developer here. And you are?” Larry said.
“Y/N, Sam, Dean.” You smiled, pointing each brother respectfully.
“Sam, Dean, Y/N, good to meet you. So, you three are interested in Oasis Plains?” Larry asked.
“This is my boyfriend and his brother came along to help us look.” You grabbed Dean's hand and smiled up at Larry who nodded.
“Great! Well, come on in.” Larry lead you and the brothers inside the house and outside to the backyard. You were lucky that the brothers didn’t say anything to you on what you said. You watched as a lot of people laughed and ate with each other, talking as if they all knew one another.
“You said you were the developer?” Sam asked.
“Eighteen months ago, I was walking this valley with my survey team. There was nothing here but scrub brush and squirrels. And you know what? We built such a nice place to live that I actually bought into it myself. This is our house. We're the first family in Oasis Plains,” Larry smiled and walked you over to a woman who smiled at him. “This is my wife, Joanie.”
“Hi.” Joanie smiled at you. You shook her hand and she shook Sam’s and Dean’s as well.
“Hi, it’s nice to meet you.” You said.
“This is Y/N, Sam, and Dean.” Larry introduced you to his wife.
“Tell them how much you love the place, honey. And lie if you have to because I need to sell some houses.” Larry joked. You laughed, not because it was funny, but because you needed this guy to like you.
“If you’ll excuse me.” Larry smiled and walked off, leaving you with his wife.
“Don't let his salesman routine scare you. This really is a great place to live.” Joanie smiled. Another, younger woman, came to join your conversation and you smiled at her.
“Hi, I'm Lynda Bloome, head of sales.” You smiled and shook her hand.
“And Lynda was second to move in. She's a very noisy neighbor, though.” Joanie joked as she walked away.
“She's kidding, of course. I take it you three are interested in becoming homeowners?” Lynda asked.
“Well my boyfriend and I are. Sam is his brother and he’s just helping us look.” You smiled.
“Great!” Lynda nodded.
“Right, Dean, why don’t you talk to Larry and Sam and I will talk to Lynda.” You smiled at Dean.
“Sure, thing, sweetheart.” Dean turned to leave but as he was leaving, he smacked your ass. You gasped and looked at him to see him smirking and walking away. That cheeky bastard. You turned back towards Lynda to see her talking Sam’s ear off and you stared at her.
What the hell was she talking about? Why did she think that Sam cared? Did you just hear her say shower head? You looked around to see if anything was out of the ordinary when you saw something crawling towards Lynda’s hand. Your eyes went wide and your nudged Sam hard for a few times before he looked at you with a confused look.
“On the table.” You whispered. There was a giant fucking spider and you need it off. It was a tarantula and you hated bugs and spiders and things that had more than 2 legs. Sam chuckled slightly and looked up to see a teenage boy smiling and snickering, watching the spider crawl on.
“Excuse me.” Sam said, lightly pushing Lynda out of the way.
“Oh, okay.” She took that as her sign to leave because she walked off. Sam reached for the spider and let him crawl on his overgrown hand.
“Sam, what the hell are you thinking? That’s a damn spider!” You followed him and watched as the teenage boy sighed to himself.
“Are you going to tell my dad?” He scoffed, taking his spider back. You could tell he was a bitchy teenager. This is why you couldn’t have kids. You hated back talk.
“I don’t know, who’s your dad?” Sam asked.
“Yeah, Larry usually skips me in the family introductions.” The boy scoffed.
“Ouch. First name basis with the old man - sounds pretty grim.” You said as you eyeballed the spider.
“Want to hold him?” He held out his spider to you and you jumped back and glared.
“Screw you.” You muttered quietly as the boy chuckled.
“Matthew,” You heard a man say sternly. You watched as Larry came over and stood right next to his son. “I am so sorry about my son and his... pet.”
“It’s no bother.” Sam said politely.
“Excuse us.” He took his son away and Dean walked over to you.
“Why would you touch a fucking spider?” You said with a disgusted face.
“Relax, sweetheart, your boyfriend will protect you.” Dean smirked as he approached you and Sam. You rolled your eyes and looked at Larry and Matthew. Larry was yelling at his poor son.
“Remind you of someone?” Sam asked his older brother.” You bit your lip because Larry reminded you of John, in a way. Dean looked at Sam confused. “Dad?”
“Dad never treated us like that.” Dean scoffed.
“Well, Dad never treated you like that. You were perfect. He was all over my case. You don't remember?”
“Maybe he had to raise his voice, but sometimes, you were out of line.” Dean looked at you and you bit your lip. You weren’t getting in the middle of a possible sibling fight.
“Right. Right, like when I said I'd rather play soccer than learn bowhunting.” Sam scoffed.
“Bowhunting's an important skill.” Dean defended his dad.
“Whatever. How was your tour?” Sam rolled his eyes. He was done with the conversation and you were glad.
“You might be onto something. Looks like Dustin Burwash wasn't the first strange death around here.” Dean said.
“What happened?” You asked, leaning in close.
“About a year ago, before they broke ground, one of Larry's surveyors dropped dead while on the job. Get this severe allergic reaction to bee stings.” Dean sighed.
“More bugs.” You shuddered.
“More bugs.” Dean and Sam nodded.
“You know what, I think I have had enough of family time. We should go.” The boys seemed to agree and you three made it out of there without anyone noticing and you walked to the car. You looked at Dean who got his keys and was about to hand them to Sam but you stopped him.
“No, if you’re letting Sam drive, can I?” You pleaded.
“No way, you think I forgot what happened?” Dean scoffed and reached over your head to hand Sam the keys.
“No, Dean, come on, you’re being a big baby,” You rolled your eyes. “I know how to drive.”
“Yeah, well, not today you don’t.” You rolled your eyes deeply and got in the back seat with Sam behind the wheel and Dean next to him.
“Where are we going?” Sam asked.
“To the motel. We’re coming back here later tonight.” Dean said.
Part Three
Masterlist // Series Rewrite Masterlist // Buy me a Coffee?
Series Rewrite tags:
@helllonearth @amyisabellal @deanwnchstr @caseykitten6 @roxalya19 @quixoticcat
Forever tags:
@deans-short-girl @maddieburcham1 @ginamsmith @mogaruke @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @whit85-blog @inlovewithbja
Dean tags:
@akshi8278 @mega-mrs-dean-winchester @winchesterandpie
Other tags:
@jensen-jarpad @notnaturalanahi @deathtonormalcy56 @27bmm
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onenightandgone · 7 years
Text
Gone: Chapter One
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New home, new family, New York. What else is new?
Reader x Sehun Angst/Fluff
Moving in with Joanie was one of the best decisions you ever made.
Joanie was sweet and caring, but not the overbearing mother type. You didn’t need a parent. The three-bedroom apartment that you split with her was everything that you could want. Joanie and you collaborated to make the extra bedroom into a studio, and you combined your paycheques to buy all the equipment you needed to produce your own music at home.
Your job at the production company had a steep learning curve, but with all your experience, you were up to the task. Your three-month review consisted of your supervisors singing your praises and looking expectantly into the future to see where you would end up.
You still picked up your guitar regularly and worked out new arrangements, some of which turned into songs. The inspiration you needed was built into the skyscrapers and subway cars and the multicoloured fabric that was New York City all around you. The city was good to you, good for you.
As roommates and friends, you and Joanie grew close. She had been living in New York for a few years before you and had her own established social groups. You were lucky though, and hit it off with her friends, who were now your friends. They were all a few years older than you, but no one noticed or cared. They treated you like you were your own person, a thing you valued, and avoided treating you like you were Heather’s little sister and nothing more.
The musician set within the group became your second family, and they visited your apartment studio regularly, not without complaints from your neighbours living downstairs. With time and practice, your band Audiowish was born. Cliff banged it out on the drums with Paul playing a mean electric guitar. Joanie played the keyboard and was in charge of any sound effects. Jonesy was Paul’s wife and the best bassist you knew; she had been one of Heather’s best friends as well. You did your best with the mic as the lead vocalist.
The time and energy invested into Audiowish gained you a small following in New York, and your boss lent you and your bandmates the studio at your work to use as a practice space. The studio at your apartment was still the best place to write, however, as you could see Central Park sitting at the desk by the window. The band was a cooperative effort with all the members, each one being skilled at their own craft, and within a few months, you were putting together an album. You were halfway through the editing process at Christmas when your brother Ryan decided to visit for the holidays.
You heard the door unlock from your perch at the Mac in the studio. The sun was just starting to lower down and turn purple, and snow was starting to fall.
‘Y/N! We’re here!’ called Joanie from the entryway. You took your headphones off and made your appearance to see Ryan lowering his bags from his shoulders onto the floor.
‘Little sister!’ he grinned. You could feel nothing but shock. He was being nice. Why was he being nice?
From behind him, Joanie widened her eyes in surprise. She glanced at you in wonder, and you knew she could feel everything you were feeling.
‘Um, hi?’ was all you could manage before Ryan stepped out of his shoes and walked over to hug you.
‘So, Ryan!’ interjected Joanie, masterfully sensing your extreme discomfort. ‘What made you decide to visit for Christmas?’ She was making a point, and obviously. Your shoulders were still tensed as Ryan released you and stepped back to look at her.
‘I can’t just visit my family? What other reasons do I need?’ he laughed. He looked back to you. ‘Oh, don’t worry, I’m staying at a hotel down on Fifth. I have some meetings with Equus Recs to go to, so I’ll be out of your hair for mostly.’
You released the deep breath you had been holding with an internal sigh of relief. Ryan wasn’t here for quality time. He had established the family dynamic of distance, and you were both comfortable with it. The thought of this standard operational procedure changing made you feel anxious and defensive, like you always were at the end of Ryan’s rare visits.
‘Equus?’ you questioned with a raised eyebrow. ‘That’s my company. Why are you meeting with them?’ The tension returned as Ryan shook his head.
‘It’s not for low-level button pushers to know,’ he jabbed. There he was - the old Ryan you were more familiar with. His bluntness was renowned.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. ‘That’ll be my cab! I’ll meet you guys for dinner later,’ he promised on his way back out the door.
Your brother had come in and gone like a whirlwind, leaving you and Joanie staring at each other, frozen in shock. The air felt like it was stuck in your lungs, and time felt like it would never go forward again.
Joanie was the first to move. She pushed you down onto the sofa and shuffled into the kitchen to turn on the kettle. Tea was always her answer to these situations. She returned a few minutes later with two steaming mugs of it.
You held the ceramic warmth to your chest as you finally let yourself relax back into the furniture.
‘He still didn’t really explain why he was here,’ you muttered. Yes, the meetings, but you still didn’t know why, and it made you feel nervous.
‘It’ll be okay,’ Joanie said immediately. ‘He never stays for long, you know that. Hopefully we don’t have to see him much.’ You nodded.
‘I hope that his meetings have nothing to do with me,’ you added. You felt like you were crazy for thinking that you might even be mentioned, but Ryan suddenly being in your city to meet with your company felt too random, like it was too much of a coincidence for you to think otherwise. You didn’t believe in coincidences.
You and Joanie finished your tea ritual, and of course, you did feel much better by the time you got to the bottom of the mug. It was a practice night, and right on cue, Paul and Jonesy burst through the door. Knocking and doorbell ringing had become antiquated and obsolete at this point in your friendship, and everyone in Audiowish came and went as they pleased. You forced yourself to come back to life and chatted with them about Ryan’s sudden and unexpected appearance while you waited for Cliff.
You didn’t hear from Ryan again for a few days. You managed to avoid running into him at your workplace without any real effort on your part, but before you could wonder what happened to him, your phone buzzed in your pocket. You paused the track you were working on.
‘Hi, Ryan, I’m working,’ you said grimly. The interruption was unwelcome, especially during the creative process involving someone else’s music.
‘I know, I know, your boss said you would be. Can you get everyone involved in Audiowish to come up to the boardroom this afternoon?’ he asked.
‘Wait, how do you even know about that? What’s this about?’ You really were curious now. What could he possibly want?
‘Your boss played me some of the tracks you laid down this fall,’ Ryan began. ‘I’m not gonna lie, sis, it’s impressive stuff and I want to be involved. Can you get everyone to meet up at the boardroom here this afternoon?” You choked at the suddenness of it all.
‘I-I can try,’ you managed. ‘Why though? I don’t understand,’ you continued, demanding clarification.
‘I want to be involved in this,’ he repeated, ‘and I can be better involved if you relocate the whole thing to my side of the pond. What do you think?’
It took a moment for you to process everything he had just said to you. The possibilities of what could happen, of what Audiowish could be loomed in front of you, threatening only because of their overwhelming nature. You felt small.
‘Y-y-you want me to move…’ you breathed out into the phone.
‘Yes, dummy, to Seoul with me. Are you in or not?’ The harshness woke up your stunned brain and thawed frozen tongue.
‘Let me talk with Joanie, I’ll get back to you,’ you said before hanging up. Greetings and goodbyes were a formality that you and your brother never bothered with.
Your hands shook and you almost called the wrong person several times before you got on the line with Joanie. She conferenced in the others, and before you could make any objections, they had all agreed.
You were moving to Seoul, and you didn’t have a choice.
Prologue | One | Two | Three
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waiting4morning · 7 years
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Fic: Snow Day
Title: Snow Day Fandom: Mass Effect Andromeda Rating: PG Pairing: Jaal/SisRyder (pre-relationship) Summary: Trapped on Voeld during a blizzard, the Nexus team finds a fun way to kill time, and Jaal learns a few new things about Ryder.
Note: So I guess there’s some thing running around that Tumblr doesn’t let you find posts with links to them?? In any case, if you would prefer to read this on Fanfiction.net, I’m there under the same name.
Thank you very much @quinzelade for beta reading this for me. <3
Jaal followed the human Pathfinder, ostensibly giving a tour of the Resistance headquarters on Voeld, but he was far more interested in observing her. She walked into the hangar shivering from the cold, but the wonder on her face was easy to see and gratifying. He sometimes forgot what a marvel the headquarters was, but through the aliens’ eyes he was able to see it anew.
The largest space was in front of them, the hangar with a few shuttles undergoing maintenance, or waiting for fighters to go on the next mission. Further in through the hangar was the medical bay,—with far too many beds filled—the barracks, and command center.
Ryder, in particular, seemed to focus on the details around her. Nothing seemed to be beneath her notice: an injured fighter was staring at her, so she walked over and made cheerful small talk, chuckling as she wiggled her five-fingered hand for the man to wonder at; later, she quietly agreed to check on a supply drop that was missing so that panic wouldn’t spread among the ranks, then talked with genuine interest to a priestess about specifics of angaran spirituality.
He could almost hear Evfra’s warning in his head: “Don’t trust too readily.”
But he was finding it harder and harder to maintain a cool, professional distance. Joan Ryder and her companions were—there was no other way to say it—enticing. They bickered among themselves like adhi, but the next moment were hunched over a vid, howling with laughter over jokes he did not understand and watching each other’s backs when it was needed most. And they were so different from each other. Vetra with her spiky shell as hard as armor; Liam and Ryder both with that flexible mass on their heads that they called “hair;” Peebee with her odd tentacled head, and Drack who was so old Jaal still had trouble comprehending it. But these differences didn’t seem to separate them except for good-natured digs that even Jaal recognized as playful.
In short, they felt like a family.
And of course, there was Ryder.
Jaal hummed to himself as he watched her examine a broken console, her face alight with interest. She was curious about everything angara, always turning to him to ask a clarifying question, or asking him to explain something that didn’t quite translate, surprising him a couple of times with her insight.
He was beginning to admire her intelligence, ready laugh (very angaran), curiosity about everything they saw. Other aspects of her were hard to read; she felt very flat—emotionally—to him sometimes, but he was beginning to see that this wasn’t like the angara, who might suspect you had something to hide, but a natural reserve that seemed common to all humans to varying degrees. Not quite shyness, though he thought Ryder had some of that too. At least her facial structure seemed flexible and emotive when the occasion warranted. He wondered at times if he would ever be able to read the body language of Drack and Vetra, whose faces were far more rigid.
Jaal had read the accounts of the ketts’ arrival. From what he understood, they’d always been aloof, even when they were pretending to be peaceful.
These aliens had few pretensions. Even when they were perplexing, there was an honesty about it.
But despite her alienness, there was something powerful about Ryder, something compelling that he found difficult to explain.
Was he wrong in feeling drawn toward them? Evfra wouldn’t approve, but then again, the old man approved of very little.
“Oi, Joanie!” The one called Liam waved over at where Jaal and Joan were standing. The Intelligence officer had been explaining several of the symbols on the large, globular map. At Liam’s voice, she turned, her strange, furry eyebrow ridges—no, he thought, correcting himself, just eyebrows—rising in expectation.
“Something up, Liam?”
“Overheard scouts talking to the Admiral. Blizzard sweeping through. We’ll be stuck here for a few days.”
“But Techix!” Joan protested. “We told Admiral Do Xeel we’d go.”
Jaal stepped forward. “During a blizzard, my people will find shelter. Even the kett do this. Very little will be happening while we wait the storm out.”
Joan glanced at him, the light from the nearest sun lamp catching her oddly colored green eyes, and nodded. “SAM, tell the others to remain on the Tempest for now. No sense in all of us getting trapped in the base.”
“Acknowledged, Pathfinder.”
Joan turned to Jaal again, her face determined. “Okay. What can we do to help?”
Jaal nodded in approval. “Let’s speak to the admiral again. I’m sure she’ll be more than happy for a few extra hands getting the barriers in place.”
Within moments, Ryder, Liam, and Vetra were helping shift the snow barriers outside the hangar. These were large, metal fences that prevented the snow from piling up too high outside the secret entrance during a blizzard. Once those were in place, everyone, including the forward watch posted just outside, retreated inside and shut the doors.
Vetra scurried over to the nearest sun lamp, shivering so hard her mandibles made a clacking sound against her bony jaw.
“Now what?” Joan asked, walking up to him, snow crunching under her boots.
“Now?” Jaal shrugged. “We wait. Those without tasks will find something to do.”
“What about us?”
“Well… we could sing, dance, play games, maintain our weapons…”
“Snowball fight!”
Out of nowhere, a frozen projectile flew through the air and splattered against Joan’s chestplate. Snow splashed up into Joan’s face and, standing next to her as he was, Jaal felt some prickles as it hit his exposed skin. He looked up to see Liam, grinning and laughing as he retreated.
“Oh, you’re on!” Joan whooped and ran after Liam, who yelled something about “jump jets” and “cheating.” Within minutes, a snowball war began to rage from one end of the hangar to the other. Jaal looked around at the other Resistance fighters standing around in the hangar. A few seemed shocked, others seemed annoyed, but more and more, he saw smiles. There hadn’t been much opportunity for fun lately.
“Vetra, come help!” Liam shouted, ducking. A snow ball hit his leg and he yelped, diving behind a crate.
“No way,” Vetra said, still huddled next to the sunlamp, “I’m—” But whatever she was going to say was muffled with a squawk of outrage as Joan threw another snowball which went wide and it hit Vetra squarely in the cupped portion of her cowl, splashing up into her face.
Silence fell, then Vetra rose to her impressive height, scooping out snow from her cowl, eyes narrowed to slits.
“Eat snow, Ryder!” she crowed and joined Liam. Soon Joan was huddled behind a stack of crates, unable to even poke her head out without getting splattered by snow. Jaal hesitated, unsure. He felt drawn to the fun, but would the other Resistance members disapprove? Evfra would object, for sure.
He caught Joan’s eye and she grinned, her face alight with joy, and suddenly he was grinning back, and diving into the fray.
“Someone needs to watch your back,” he said, skidding to Joan’s side, scooping up a massive snowball almost the size of her head and lobbing it in Liam’s direction.
Liam and Vetra dove out of the way, but the snowball was big enough that when it hit, it still got snow on both of them.
“Ha!” Jaal laughed.
“Right on!” Joan whooped, lifting her hand, palm facing outward.
Jaal looked up at it quizzically. “What are you doing?”
“Oh yeah. You wouldn’t know...” Joan said. “Give me your hand?”
Jaal extended his hand slowly, wondering what she was going to do.
She reached down, raising his arm so that it was facing outwards like hers and tapped their palms together. “We call this a ‘high five.’ It’s like, um, cheering on a teammate that did something awesome.”
“‘High five,’” Jaal repeated. “Five fingers up high?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” Joan said, crinkling her nose as she smiled in a way that Jaal found unnaturally fascinating. Angaran noses didn’t do that. “Between us, we have eight fingers. Maybe when humans and angara high five should call it a ‘high eight’ instead?”
“Maybe.” His fingers twitched and curled over hers. Her eyes widened, the skin on her cheeks changing color.
“Less handholding, more snowballing!” yelled Liam just before a snowball smacked Joan in the side of the head. She spluttered with indignation, yelling a few words Jaal’s translator couldn’t pick up, and scrabbled around in the snow, packing frantically.
The fight resumed with renewed fury and soon, Jaal was pleased to see other Resistance fighters joining the fray, their hesitation about the new aliens disappearing in the joy of just playing.
Suddenly, a pair of fighters barreled through the middle of the hangar, shouting something and running toward the doors.
Snow balls dropped from hands, friendly taunts stopped dead. The runners reached the massive door to the hangar as it cracked open just enough to let in three angara, one of whom was being supported by the other two. Jaal saw blue blood running from the injured angara’s leg, though it seemed strange until he realized it had frozen to her skin.
The Resistance fighters who’d been in the snow ball battle drifted off, some back to their duties, the others, greeting the newcomers and getting them closer to the sun lamps.
Joan bit her bottom lip, turning to Jaal. “I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have—”
Jaal put his hand on her shoulder. “No, this was needed,” he said, gesturing at the fighters with his other hand. “Look. Can you not see the burden lifted in their eyes? We fight an unending war… that doesn’t mean we forget how to live. How to have fun. You gave that to them today.”
“Thanks, Jaal,” she said. “That means a lot, coming from you.”
“How so?”
She looked startled, then lowered her eyes in an expression he didn’t quite understand. If she were angara, he’d accuse her of being coy, but that didn’t seem to fit with what he knew of her so far.
“Well…. You’re obviously important to the Resistance, and Evfra’s top lieutenant... I’ve seen how beloved you are here. Your good opinion is worth having.”
He cleared his throat. “You honor me, Pathfinder.” Heat flooded into his crest, turning his frills a brighter blue, he was sure, though he didn’t think Ryder had learned to read evidence of his embarrassment.
“Pathfinder.” SAM’s voice coming out of the speaker of her helmet—set next to them on a stack of crates—made them voice jump. “The temperature is continuing to drop due to the blizzard’s arrival. I recommend retreating further into the base where the concentration of sunlamps and people are higher.”
“Right,” Joan said, breaking eye contact with Jaal and scooping up her helmet. “You heard him,” she said to Liam and Vetra who stood at a nearby sun lamp, looking damp and disheveled from the snow fight. “Let’s get further in and dry off.”
“No argument from me,” Vetra said, using her longer legs to quickly outpace the rest of them.
Ryder gave Jaal one last smile, then turned to follow her. Liam hurried ahead too, brushing snow from his hair, leaving Jaal to catch up. But he didn’t mind the momentary solitude. He needed to remind himself of what was at risk. As much fun as the snow ball fight was, as intriguing as Ryder and her crew were… he had to keep in mind what was most important: ensuring the survival of his people against the kett.
But perhaps…
“Jaal,” Ryder said, pausing to turn around. “You coming?”
He smiled and easily leapt forward to catch up with her, enjoying the look of surprise on her face. “Yes,” he said. “I am.”
She laughed, nose crinkling again. “So are all angara good jumpers or just you?”
Perhaps the angara would no longer have to fight alone.
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such-as-it-is · 6 years
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The World Is Round - Chapter 10
Squawk!!! Squawk!!!
“Stupid possum-dodos” Muttered a restless Maro sniggled deep in the warmth of her beddings; but not for long as she rolled off of the bed and hit the floor with her blanket.
She meagerly stood up, leaving the blanket to continue its rest on the light brown carpeted ground.
She left the small bedroom with nothing but a desk, chair bed and small closet and entered the living room with some sofas and a broad table in the middle, where the doors to the kitchen, bathroom and Mayka’s room. Mayka must have been already up, since her door was open. She had also wound up the large metal clock, which was the only ornament decorating the walls that made up this room.
With squinted eyes, Maro dragged herself into the bathroom where a blurred Maro could been seen peering back at her though the mirror.
Maro outreached her hand and rubbed a window into the mirror where a now clear and defined Maro was looking at back her, her hair as long and radiant as ever. A Maro with skin that was nowhere near as pale as before, and hair that didn’t go past her shoulders.  
She finished up her morning ritual and even had a bite to eat before left put on her thick coat and left out into the hall where the doors of all her neighbours could be seen. So many doors.
She walked out of of her dormitory building and into the snowy academy, now hastening her footsteps of fear that she’d be late; her peers around her doing the same.
It didn’t take her too long before she found the building she was looking for and familiar faces within its corridors.
“Maro, you won’t believe. Joani’s back at it again” came the voice of a Grio who appeared beside Maro walking along with her.
“What the fuck! Why?”
“She remains a mystery to all of us”
“Oi listen we need to get rid of her soon… This is stupid. Like what the fuck…”
“You don’t need to tell me that”
Another familiar face spoke out standing next to the doorway “Are you guys talking about Nayke?” came Frayin
“Go away” said Giro. “You weren't supposed to hear that”
They walked off before Giro parted ways “Ima head off to SRC. See ya”
“Nah, you won’t I’m busy later today”
“Oh what? Why?”
“Training with Bartoq. Only took him like, what, 5 fucking months?”
“Haha I don’t understand why you have such a hard-on for him… Ya skank”
“Hahaha I’m not the one screwing Leir”
“Oi, fuck you, ok?” was her final remark before she made with a smirk before she made a turn to another corridor and Maro arrived at her destination.
She pushed the large door open to find the blue classroom filled with water up to her ankle (as it should be) and all the 22 younglings sitting down in the center of the floor. The chattering between them faded to a halt as the smile widened on Maro’s face and the door went back to the closed state it was in before.
“Morning class” she sang in a mildly enthusiastic manner
“Good morning Maro” replied the synchronised class
Bartoq who was laying on the floor with his back firmly pressed against the wall gave a slight nod of his head as a sort of approval for Maro to start the class.
The classroom was a large square room made of ice like the rest of the building with two doors that were smaller and then main one on either side.
She walked over the side and opened up the equipment room which was the door on the right of her and took out two contraptions as well as a water tank. Each contraption was a slanted half pipe held up high by four poles; two Vs that came out of each end of the half pipe and at the end of each leg floats were situated on the bottom for easy movement around the classroom.
A float meant the bottom end of the pole split into 3 like a tripod and at the end of each leg was a small air filled disk which was angles parallel to the ground.  
One of these contraptions was slightly shorter than the other.
Maro brought them in front of all the younglings and posed a question:
“Does anyone know what this is?”
A hand went up.
Maro called on him: “Yes Pippin”
“Is it a cladding?” came his soft pre pubescent voice.
“Ohhhh that’s a really good guess, but no. This is something else.
Anyone else know? No? Ok, about another question, can anyone guess what the point of these things are. I’ll give you an obvious clue. It’s to help teach you waterbending. No? No one? Merry, any ideas?” Merry shook his head “That’s ok, we’re going to learn together. Can anyone tell me the most basic principle of waterbending?” Almost all of them put their hands up. Maro chose one
“That water flows?” replied the youngling to her question
“Yeah, nice Samwise! So in this exercise we’re going to help the water flow. The water must be able to make it from the larger pipe to the smaller pipe, but there must still be a gap between these. They’re called Fallers by the way, so when I say smaller Faller I am talking about this one here” she put her hand over the smaller one “and when I say larger Faller I am talking about this bigger one here. They were named after the waterbending teacher who first created and used them to teach waterbending; Michack Faller. Now, we don’t have enough room for everyone to have their ones ones, so you’ll need to form groups of 3”
The younglings shuffled around and organised themselves for some minutes, with the help of Maro.
“Ok, now before we bring them out I wanna show you how this needs to work, and then I’ll come around and make sure you’re all doing it right. So, first you need to install the water tank on top the larger Faller and loosen the valve” She did so as she instructed and water started flowing through the larger Faller, slithering down the pipe and finally trickling onto the classroom floor “Now, I want you to make sure that the gap between them is at least your shoulders width apart. Otherwise there’s no point” She adjusted the Fallers “Now, I want you to guide the water to the smaller faller. Remember, the water is already flowing here. You don’t need to force it or move it. Just let it do what’s it’s already doing but give it a little nuge in the right direction. With that in mind, take your hand that is closer to the larger faller and lift it up, almost like you’re pointed to it. Grip the water with that hand but lets the water continue to come out of the pipe without resistance. Then take your other hand and and try to touch your wrist, like this. The slide your other hand along your first hand as though you’re guiding the water through your hand. Then mode your other hand along your body and along the path you want your water to take so that it may reach the pipe of the smaller Faller” Maro outstretched her other arm towards the smaller Faller and fully extended and locked it.
Surely enough the stream of water came along with it and tucked itself nicely into the pipe of the smaller faller only to proceed to fall out of the other side
“The key is to keep this motion going” was Maro’s final remark as we moved her other arm back and forth along her first arm, continuously guiding the water along its path through the air.
She did this for a while and then preceded to hand out Fallers to the groups, keeping to her word and making sure every student had gotten the idea eventually. The room started to fill with the sounds of trickling water.
“Remember” she continued “the water will move no matter what you do. It’ll keep flowing. Your job is to make sure it end up in the correct place”
As soon as all the children had left the class and off to their next one, Maro closed door and shed a sigh of relief. She turned a glance over at Bartoq whom she found snoozing on the wall he was leaning on. She moved over to him and nudged him. He didn’t budge so she kicked him softly with her foot.
His eyes now snapped open: “Oh…” he looked around “Sorry. How was the class?”
“Shouldn’t you be telling me that?”
“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry. You know why though, right?”
“Yeah, Sue told me. She told me about your sleeping disorder”
“I can’t help it”
“I know”
“Are you ready for our own class?”
“Yes, let’s go”
“It’s a bit of a walk away, you know. Do you mind a long walk?”
“Are you kidding me?”
“Right, right...”
She helped him up by linking elbows and pulling him up. They walked out past the cold corridors and icy buildings away from the institute and into the city.
They talked a bit on the way. Bartoq started:
“Did you hear about the chiefs newborn child? He’ll be the future of our great nation”
“Yeah! They named him Tonraq”
“Oh really? Seams you’re more ahead than me then”
They walked a while longer before they changed the topic.
“You know…” started Bartoq. “There’s only 2 months left before your scheduled army enlistment. Maybe you should postpone it a bit”
“No, I wanna enlist soon!” The topic made Maro feel a bit uneasy. She just wanted to move on with her life as quickly as possible.
“But I’ve been talking to Marika. He says you're short range combat has a long way to go. He was surprised when I told him your enlistment date”
“Argh… Why do you hate the army so much? You have such a rich history with it”
“I was poor and didn’t have any better way to make a keeping. But wait, what am I even talking about? This has nothing to do with how I feel about the army! Maro, listen to me, I really feel like you’re not ready yet. Being a soldier is horrible. Not because of the physical labour or the hard work. No, in fact that’s the best part. It’s extremely mentally taxing. Trust me, you may think you’re disciplined because you managed to walk halfway across the world, but you have no idea. Don’t get me wrong, it’s definitely no small feat, but still, you don’t know what it’s like being shouted at every day. Constantly being being punished for non-sensical things. Your life becomes a time table. Be here then, do this in this amount of time. Wanna go to the bathroom? Be back in 7 minutes or you're punished. And what am I even talking about once again? All this still has nothing to do with the fact that you're clearly not ready!”
Maro spoke coolly in contrast: “I’ll take my chances. What do you think I walked halfway around the world for? To wander around the academy and eat food all the time? I can do that in the swamp. I came here so I can make something of myself! So I can have the opportunity to learn and to be me...” The last part of the sentence slipped out accidentally. She had meant to say ‘to be something’.
“You can’t be you when you’re dead…”
This statement infuriated Maro. She decided to hold it and and let it out, like a tea pot after it finished boiling.
And finally they left the city for a while and came to a massive frozen lake.
“Here we will learn. When you’re ready, stand over there” he said softly and pointed out into the distance.
The lake stretched further than Maro could see in the direction she was walking. Snowy mountains painted the edges of the lake to the sides. It was a clear day with few clouds despite the cold, and it was around midday now, though Maro had no idea because it was sunny all day long this time of year. There was a period of 2 hours in the evening when the light would dim as though the day was about to go into twilight, but it would become sunny as midway right after.
Maro felt the cool wind on her face as she looked over the stretch of the ice going ever into the distance.
She turned back to face Bartok. The mountains spun around her has his small figure came into focus. She stood facing him at a 45 degree angle; her left side closest to him.
‘I’ll show him my long range combat is awesome!’ she thought to herself as she get into her waterbending stance. She kept her feet close together, took her left arm so that it was bent but facing him and put her right arm long her body under her chest. Her hands were flatly opened, palm side up.
“Nice stance” his voice came in response. “But you shan't be needing it. We’re not practicing waterbending today”
“Wait, what?” put lowered her arms a bit.
“At least… have a stance like this” he said as her as he now stood perpendicular to her position, widened his legs, put out his elbows and put his fists to his body.
She didn’t attempt it and lowered her arms down more in her confusion.
“I want you to bend the ice” he said, but before he could demonstrate she said
“Ohhh… I can do that” She put her arms back into her stance and and with a digging motion from her left arm melted a pool of ice in front of her, levitated it into the air and froze it with a motion like she was pulling open two sliding doors at once. She then proceeded to move it around in the air.
“Not like that. Have a look” he proceeded to lift his right foot into the air, and brought it down with a swift, powerful circular motion. A large block of ice bounced up from the ground in front of him and flew into the air directly upwards. He then lent his body over to the side away from the the ice block, wound his foot into his body, and right before it was about to fall, he sprung his foot into a fierce kick in the direction of the block.
It flew towards Maro in a projectile manner, but missed her on her left side. She turned to watch it as it slid away on the near frictionless surface.
“Woah!” she said in a soft tone that Bartoq couldn't hear.
“Not listen, I’m going to explain it to you. The first step is to root yourself into the ice. That is what this stance is for”
But Maro didn’t listen. She was too keen on trying it. She lifted her foot from her own stance and slammed into into the floor, poorly mimicking Bartoqs motion. The result was a few cracks in the ice around where her foot fell.
“Maro, look at me” came the voice of Bartoq. Maro did so
“After you’ve rooted yourself, your goal is to pass energy into the ice. The ice is stubborn and won’t want to move. It’s your job to be more stubborn and force it to. It’s not like conventional water bending. There’s no flow here. Only the force of the ice against your own”
“I’m sorry” she said “Could you demonstrate it again?”
“Certainly” he said and redid the swift motion creating a new block and a new square hole in the ice in front of his. This time Maro watched him more carefully and only heard the ice slide by and away from her.
She attempted it again, better following his movement, but still to the same result.
“You’re trying to find an energy to move the ice. It isn’t there. You must make your own energy and resist the energy from the ice”
Her third attempt proved just as futile.
“Ok, how about this: I will kick there rocks at and you ary and stop them with your force”
She nodded
“Show me your stance”
She copied his stance
“Good, good. Can you feel yourself rooted? You must root yourself”
“I think so…”
“Alright, here comes the first one. Remember, use your energy to resist it”
He kicked a block from the ground and kicked it awards her feet, a bit more gently. She pushed her hands at the block which was now sliding and managed to slow it down, but it still found its way to her feet and she still found her way to the floor. He was slightly annoyed at this.
“Good attempt! I can feel you are starting to project your energy, but try rooting yourself. You have you bend imaginary roots into the ice to stop you from falling. Nothing can knock you down”
She got up and anticipated the next block. Exact same result, but this time as she got up, she found another block heading towards her, she got down and pushed it but it pushed harder and she did a flip tumble onto the floor. She lay there for less than a second feeling sorry for herself, but her solace as quickly interrupted by the sound of an ice block sailing awards her. She flicked herself back up and tried to stop the right one, completely ignoring the left one and failed leaving here on the ground once again. Now her blood began to boil. She got up and found another block, this time not sliding but flying at her general direction. She got out of its way, melted a part of it and using wave like motion get the water stream around her and tossed in ferrocialy like a dart at Bartoq. The only thing Bartoq could see was the backside of an ice block he was sending, followed by the dard of water less than an instant later. It hit him on the side of his rib cage under his pectoral, tore his clothes, and started a stream of blood.
“Ahhhhh!”
He fell to his knees.
“FUCK” she ran to him.
She meted some water and placed it on his wound. It was freezing so he screamed some more at the cold.
“Don’t you know how to heal?!” she sounded.
“No one ever taught me” he muttered pointing his teary eyes to her
“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck”
He wearily got up.
“I’ll live” he said, his voice more steady now.
“What shall I…”
“Training is off for today. We shall resume another time” He said and walked off clutching his wound.
Maro let herself fall to the ground in between the many new craters Bartoq has made. She lay there with her eyes open for a while and hardly any motion. She welcomed the pain of the cold from the ground along her body. Pain was something she had become overly accustomed to ever since she left.
Eventually, feelings of boredom overtook her feelings of self pity and guilt and she found the energy to push herself back up again. The snowy mountains rotated from sideways to upright around her as she did so.
The young waterbender looked back at the path from which they had come and dragged herself to that direction; a blood trail leading the way.
“I must have around 2 hours to kill” came a stray thought.
She walked back along the path for a while, occasionally seeing a droplet of blood in the snow, until she decided to deviate from the way she came from and went north around the city. The trail that took the outskirts of the great trbe wound around the blue shimmering houses and buildings as she walked along. At this time, she would be the only one she could see on the trail.
Eventually, she deviated again onto another trail that took her even further north still. She knew where she was going, and eventually she got there.
She walked past the great tall water temple as she reached her destination. It’s layers towered over her in a formidable fashion. Maybe next time she will go inside.
There was a small amount of people going out of the gate in water tribe colours as she got to what was her destination. The gate was the entrance to a cave in a tall cliff. It was about a head taller than Maro, and stretched out about twicer her size. It was made up of two parts, and was oddly made of wood. Not too many things in the tribe were made of anything but ice. On the side of the gate was a small sign. Maro read it at the pace of snail for she was not adept at reading quite yet:
“Quee… oh, that says Quiet. Zone. Please no no-iss… oh, noise. Inside. Quiet Zone, please no noise inside” she repeated it all at once and replied to the sign “Ok then” before she pushed the right door of the gate and went in.
Inside was the spirit oasis. There were people all around mediating, basking in the spiritual energy. One of them was even wearing fire nation attire.
Maro walked very slowly and very carefully, so as to not make any noise on the grass.
The air here was rather warm, despite all the walls made of ice, so maro took off her large coat and hung it on the hook by the entrance, next to some more coats.
The Oasis was a large room with a very high ceiling. Except it wasn't a room so much as it was a cave that’s was taller than it was long. Deep water stretched along its floors and grassy ways that were only just taller than the height of the water were also present, and connected by small, low bridges with no rails or any kind of support like that. People were meditating on the grass, and in the shallow areas of the water where the earth was just transitioning from it’s grassy land to its deep bottom.
In the center back of the Oasis was a perfectly round grass Island connected by two bridges coming from either side. In the front center of the island was a perfectly round pool of water. Behind the pool and on either side of it were two small plumeria trees, blossoming the most beautiful pink flowers with petals under their branches. In between these small trees was a wonderful bamboo bush which was dense and leafy at the top, like a canopy that stretched above the height of the two trees. Some rocks of various sizes lay the base of this vegetation patch, and finally, to complete the island, right in front of the bamboo was a small blue torii gate, whose top was just below the canopy of the bamboo and that had a water tribe moon and ocean symbol glimmering in its center. There was a couple of people meditating on the Island.
Maro couldn’t see what was inside the pool in the island from the distance she was at, but she knew. This wasn't her first visit here.
She crept along to the island where she stealthily weaved around the meditators as she had done until now, got on her hands and knees and crawled to the edge of the pool in the center of the island. She leant over and gazed as Tui and La circled each other in an infinite and hypnotic manner. Round and round and round and round.
Tui and La were two koi fish who were the moon and ocean spirits. Also known as push and pull; yin and yang. One fish was black with a white spot on his head, the other white with a black spot on his head.
Though she was caught in a trance of their movement, she couldn’t help but think “Why do they bother? They only keep doing the same thing over and over again… destined to always end up in the same place, but keep moving anyway…”
After some minutes her eyes got tired, and Tui and La slowly faded out of focus to reveal a Maro in the foreground instead. The Maro on top stared down at this new Maro in the pool, and she returned the stare back at her. She lifted her hand and reached it out. Lower Maro followed along. She nearly touched the water, before she folded her arm back into her body and stood up by the pool now facing away from it. She walked back out of the Oasis, small tear now coming down her face. She grabbed her coat and put it back on before pulling the gate and leaving.
She turned left after coming out, and instead of going back to the city, she went around the natural structure that formed the exterior of the Oasis. Eventually, she found what she was looking for, which was a sharp set of stairs that led to the lookout on top.
As if she didn’t feel lifeless enough already, now she had lost breath, but was at the top. There was no one else there.
She walked over to the front and lent her full weight on the rail. She peered over the entire tribe, seeing it in all of it’s glory. It stretched out further than she could see, but she knew the great docks were not too much further than her line of sight.
She looked behind her. She saw a great valley of many icy and snowy mountains. Behind them was the north pole; the tip the earth.
She looked forwards and saw a glorious sight.
She looked backwards and saw a glorious sight.
But the young traveler just stood there, frail and helpless, wondering what should she do with it all.
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betweensceneswriter · 7 years
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Second Wife-Chapter 17 : Married
Second Wife Table of Contents
Second Wife on AO3
Previously -  Chapter 16 : Comfort She needed to go somewhere for comfort…
“John Robert MacLeod’s reputation among young women had been the subject of a good deal of talk among the men-at-arms at Leoch in his brief time there. A sly, good-looking slink of a man, handsome and lean-jawed—and the fact that he’d a wife and weans at home in Killiecrankie seemed to hamper him not at all.” (An Echo in the Bone, 676).
     “Come, Marsali,” Jamie said.  When Jenny had whispered in his ear a moment earlier, his eyebrows had raised and he nodded in response.  “Time for you to choose your final birthday gift!”
     With sparkling eyes, Marsali hopped up from her little pile of treasures on the floor, and she, Janet, and Joanie followed Jamie and Jenny up the stairs to the laird’s room.
     Marsali and Joanie had never seen a room so fine, with dark wood furniture and beautiful drapes, as well as actual wallpaper in a lovely blue and ivory pattern.  Balriggan only had painted rooms, and a few old tapestries.  Wallpaper was something that royalty had in palaces.
     Joanie was clinging to his hand, but Jamie, noting Marsali’s cautious steps and the look of wonder in her eyes, reached out to pat her on the shoulder.  “Exactly how I felt as a young lad when I came into my ma and da’s room.  Very fine, is it not?”  Marsali nodded wordlessly in response.  Though there were times she seemed very much like a woman, glimmers of the little girl were still left, and currently evident on her face.
     Jenny and Jamie dragged a trunk out of the corner.  “Now that ye are a young lady, Marsali, I wanted ye to have a choice of some grown-up lady clothing.” Jamie said, reaching down and opening it up.
     Marsali fell on her knees in front of the trunk, joined quickly by Janet and Joanie.  The trunk held bright bits of blue and yellow and red silk, as well as some darker colors, deep green and gray.  “So extravagant!” Marsali said, hesitant to touch anything.  “Much too fine for Balriggan.  Maybe if I were to go to Edinburgh, or London…”
      “I’m certain ye can find something that would suit you now,” Jamie said encouragingly.
     Marsali looked overwhelmed.
      “What about this?” Jenny asked, pulling something made of green wool out of the trunk.  “A lovely thick, warm cloak would be something useable—even for your trip back, particularly if it rains.”
     Smiling, Marsali ran her hand over the warm wool.  “Indeed, Auntie.  This would work nicely, though if I ever have a ball to go to, I would love to come and look at these dresses again!”  She withdrew her hand from the glossy silks reluctantly. 
      “Ye can still look at and touch them, mo chridhe,” said Jamie.  “They are lovely to see and feel.”
     Marsali lifted each garment, then turned and handed them to wee Janet, who laid them out on the bed, where Joanie stroked the fine fabric and inspected the gathers and stays. 
     Jenny noticed Jamie clenching and releasing one hand as if it ached, and she sidled up close to him, putting her arm about his waist.  He put his arm over her shoulder, then sighed and settled into her embrace, and continued to watch as the girls exclaimed over each new revelation.
     Finally Marsali reached the bottom of the trunk.  There were some fine white lacy underthings that made her blush slightly, so she simply pushed them aside to pull out the last item in the trunk.
     The three girls gasped as Marsali drew out the dress.  A beautiful taupe linen with silvery threads interwoven created a skirt which must have been made with yards and yards of fabric.  The bodice was made of the same fabric, and the stomacher was of cream colored linen, embroidered with silvery thread in a pattern of acorns and leaves.
      “Oh, Auntie Jenny, your wedding dress was so lovely!” gasped Joanie.  “Like a fairy princess!”
      “Wasna mine,” said Jenny, turning questioningly to Jamie.
      “It belonged to my first wife,” Jamie said.  “I was married once, before I married yer ma, Joanie and Marsali.  Back before Culloden.  A little before your ma married Hugh MacKenzie, her first husband.“
     Joanie reached out a hand and barely brushed the intricate stitching.  “Oh, Da, it was very fine.  Were ye rich, then?”
      “Just fortunate,” Jamie replied, smiling.  “Ye remember Ned Gowan?  He found it for me the day we were to be wed.”
      “It’s beautiful,” Marsali murmured.  “Was she lovely also?”  After asking the question, she looked worriedly at Jamie, but he smiled distantly.
      “Yes,” Jamie replied.  “When I saw her, it was like the sun coming out from behind the clouds.” He smiled, his eyes focused beyond the walls of the room as if seeing a vision.
      “Da, I dinna want to upset ye,” said Joanie, coming close and holding his hand.  “But do ye mind saying what happened to her?”
     Jamie’s eyes were watery as he looked at the dress.  “It was long ago, Joanie, and it still hurts to think of her.  Just know that I hope when ye lassies are wed, that ye find someone who loves ye as much as I loved her.”
      “But Da, if it hurts ye,” Marsali looked worried, but she came to Jamie’s other hand, “do ye really want me to be wearing her fine things around?”
      Jamie and Jenny met each other’s eyes.  Jamie spoke slowly.  “I canna live in the past.  And if someone I love is wearing her things, it seems good and right.”
     Marsali threw her arms around Jamie, burying her face in his shirt front.  “I love ye, too, Daddy.”
     The girls reverently laid the dresses back in the trunk, and as they did, Jamie’s eyes followed the dresses longingly.  Jenny looked at him with concern.
     He put his arm back around her shoulders, and leaning to her ear, said, “She is not here anymore.  It’s time for me to focus on what is.”
      “Oh, Jamie,” she said compassionately.  There was little else she could say.
     Laoghaire was sitting quietly by the fire when the little troop came downstairs, Marsali happily wearing the green cloak about her shoulders.
     With the hubbub of dinner and gifts, no one had really noticed that Kitty had disappeared after dinner.  They couldn’t tell you when she had come back in the house blushingly and beckoned Ian into the parlor, nor had they seen her pull a tall young man from the front door to the parlor by his hand.  Few noticed that she had pushed him inside, and closed the door behind him, rocking excitedly up on her toes with her hands clasped behind her back, waiting.
     It was just about the time that Jamie and Joan, Maggie and Paul were packing up their wee ones to head home that Kitty had burst from the parlor, pulling the aforementioned young man behind her by the hand, with Ian smilingly taking up the rear.
     Entering the hall, Ian had clapped his hands for attention.  Conversations had ceased, and eyes turned in his direction. 
      “Geordie has asked Kitty to marry him, and she has accepted!”  he announced proudly.
     The cheering and well wishes began almost before Ian announced that Kitty was engaged, and the crowd barely heard him say that he was happy to give them his blessing and welcome George to the family.
     Just as few of them had noticed Kitty’s secretive behavior, few noticed Laoghaire after the announcement.  She was pale-faced, a slight sad turn to her lips, and a wrinkle on her forehead. 
     Laoghaire had never been as giddy as Katherine Mary was to be getting married, holding onto her fiance’s hand with both of hers, gazing up at him with shining eyes. 
     Her memories were nothing like that at all.
☆☆☆☆☆
     She had managed to slip in to see John Robert before heading to her own chamber for bed, she believed without being noticed.  He had such a way with words—she had never felt so adored.  She had to hurry him along and left most of her clothing in place—since she needed to get back to the room she shared with Mrs. Fitz and she didn’t want to look disheveled—but even a truncated experience had made her ecstatically lightheaded.  She couldn’t wait until they could be married, and lay in their bed together, blissfully naked, able to take their time for words and caresses.  Laoghaire knew her cheeks were flushed when she reached her bedchamber, but Mrs. Fitz already had the lights out and bade her to be quiet, as she was exhausted from the long day.
     When Laoghaire came into the kitchen in the morning, she tried to get to work quickly.  She didn’t want to draw attention to herself, and truly, she just kept thinking over and over of John Robert MacLeod and the last few days.  Had she noticed how handsome he was when he spoke to her at the shinty match?  She’d been blind, then, blinded by her childhood crush on Jamie.  Certainly the man had his merits, but John Robert was in love with her.
     In the previous week Laoghaire had been working on an apron for Mrs. Fitz.  Wanting to maintain a good relationship with her grandmother, she’d chosen this morning to give it to her.  Mrs. Fitz was delighted and marveled at Laoghaire’s even stitching and the perfect fit. 
      “It’s so lovely.  I hate to dirty it,” Mrs. Fitz said.
     Laoghaire was focused on helping her grandmother put on the apron, so she didn’t see Mistress Bea…Fraser approach.
      “Claire, do ye see what my darling granddaughter here has stitched fer me?” Mrs. Fitz reveled excitedly.  “Is it not the most beautiful thing ye’ve ever laid eyes on?”
     This Claire looked nothing at all like the warm, friendly woman watching Gwyllyn the bard; though truly, that Claire had consumed at least two glasses of Colum’s Rhenish, Laoghaire thought. 
     When Claire started speaking, Laoghaire had felt the bile rise in her throat and her heart begin to pound.  This was not going to be a friendly chat.  Mrs. Fitz pulled the other kitchen maids Saffron and Fiona away, both of whom had started staring at Claire’s entrance.
     It had been so long ago, all Laoghaire remembered was staring up at Claire as she scolded her, arched eyebrows and features giving her the bearing of some regal lady, thrusting the ill wish under Laoghaire’s nose and then throwing it to the side when Laoghaire denied it came from her.
     She just stared at the woman, bitterness growing.  But when Mistress Beauchamp said, “The truth is, he was never yours to begin with,” something deep in Laoghaire took over.
      “That’s a lie,” she had said.  “Jamie Fraser was and is mine.  And ye did us both a wrong past bearing when ye stole him away.”
      “You are mistaken, child,” said Mistress Beauchamp.
     Laoghaire remembered the separate hollows in the sheets, and the stain-free bed.  “My poor Jamie,” she said.  “Trapped in a loveless marriage, forced to share his bed with a cold, English bitch.  He must have to get himself swine drunk of a night before he can stand to plow yer field.”
     Mistress Beauchamp had slapped her then, and threatened her to stay away from her and to stay away from her husband.
     Her face still red and stinging, Laoghaire had tried to act nonchalant when she welcomed her gran and the other maids back into the kitchen.  She had begun to peel potatoes when she overhead Saffron talking to Fiona as they mixed up the bannock dough.  She kept herself low over the scraps bowl so they wouldn’t halt their conversation on her account.
      “Did ye see Jamie and Mistress Fraser this morning?  She looked well-ridden, to be sure,” giggled Saffron.
      “Walkin’ a bit sore, was she now?” Fiona answered.  The two maids giggled. 
      “Aye, that, and the flush on her face whenever she would look at him?”  Saffron whistled.
      “Did ye see the way he was lookin’ at her, though?” Fiona added.  “Like he could devour her right then and there.”
      “And he couldna keep his hands off her, neither,” Saffron giggled.  “She got embarrassed and pushed him away, but I was certain I saw his hand pullin’ up her skirt under the table and him touchin’ her knee.”
      “They were hungry for more than breakfast, ye ken?” The two maids dissolved in paroxysms of laughter, and Laoghaire glared in their direction.
     Damn Geillis Duncan and her damn ill wish, Laoghaire thought to herself.  Obviously the green-eyed witch had taken Laoghaire’s money and given her nothing in return.
     She tried to keep John Robert at the forefront of her mind.  Each time she recalled his words and the way he spoke to her, she was able to calm herself.
     Saffron had seen her, and directed a question at her.  “Now, Jamie was a favorite of yers, wasn’t he, Laoghaire?”
      “He was, once,” Laoghaire responded haughtily.  “But I have a new young man now.”
      “Oooohh!” said Saffron, teasingly making eye contact with Fiona.  “Tell me.  What is the young man’s name?”
     Laoghaire felt shy.  Should she tell?  John Robert was handsome, and he said he was a blacksmith in town, with his own shop.  There was nothing to be ashamed of there. She lifted her chin.  “John Robert MacLeod,” she said proudly.
     She knew something was amiss when Saffron and Fiona exchanged distressed glances.  “What?” she asked.  “What?!  Tell me.”
      “Lass,” said Saffron, kindly.  “John Robert MacLeod is married.”
      “Married?” Laoghaire had repeated,
      “And he has several children,” Fiona added. 
      “Several?” Laoghaire asked in disbelief, insisting, “Not the John Robert MacLeod I’m talking about.”
      “Aye, John Robert MacLeod.  Tall, brown hair, square jaw?  He lives in town above his smithy, but he was here last night.  We’ve all been warned about him, and I guess, here’s yer warning as well.  Sometimes he doesna want to stay at home, so he finds some excuse to bring him up here.  Must be looking for a castle lass to bed,” said Fiona.
      “He’s a sweet talker, that ‘un,” Saffron added.  “Best keep clear of him, lass.  He will make ye feel like yer the only lass in the world, just so he can have yer maidenheid.”
     Laoghaire felt nauseated and could barely keep her tears in until she was able to race to the privy, where she lost her breakfast and then sat and sobbed.
☆☆☆☆☆
     That was the one time she had anticipated a wedding announcement, Laoghaire thought, looking sadly at the happy young couple.  Hugh had asked her father for her hand, but there were no happy announcements, and by the time Simon MacKimmie had proposed, her da was gone.
     She looked across the great room at Jamie.  They were married now.  Despite the Sassenach telling her that she’d wasted her money on that stupid ill wish and that she would never have Jamie, he was hers now.  Hers, and the Sassenach was gone. 
      “Will ye come to bed, Jamie?” she asked, standing up.  His eyes met hers with curious bewilderment.  She was announcing her intention to bed him in front of the whole family?  She could see the entire thought process parading across his face, from confusion to acceptance, to mild anticipation.
     It was truly a shallow reason to take her husband to bed, Laoghaire thought.  But when Jenny changed their sheets in the morrow, she would not see signs of a cold wife—separately wrinkled sheets, and a fresh white expanse. 
     Laoghaire would show that cold Sassenach bitch.
On to Chapter 18 : Not Gone The Sassenach was dead, but not gone.
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