#sally face chapter 5

[kubominero]

Behind masks lie worlds of hidden pain

[wandas-lunchbox]

so sick of you (chapter 3)

series summary: you and natasha have ended your relationship due to her cheating on you. it's been 5 years now. what happens when you bump into her at a bar on your birthday?

warnings: some swearing, but otherwise none

a/n: omg guys i’m acc so sorry this took 2 whole years to write. we’re gonna pretend that never happened…. you may end up having to wait another 5 years for the next chapter

finally i was on the plane. it felt like it took forever. it was an overnight flight which was good because i could finally get some sleep. wanda like the rich ass she is got us business class so we were pretty comfortable throughout the plane journey.

a couple hours had past and we were still mid air, wanda and i were sat next to eachother and in the chair next to me was a fairly pretty woman. ok i lied she was gorgeous. her hair was brunette with waves, she wore these black rimmed glasses and her lips looked so beautiful. i dont know why i noticed her lips but i guess i just did.

oh well.

i decided to get up and strech my legs for a bit, i felt some cramps in my legs so i needed to walk. wanda was snoring next to me while when harry met sally was playing in the background. i took a photo of her for evidence later. i walk up and head to the bathroom. it was occupied.

i stood there for a good whole 5 minutes till i heard faint moans coming from the bathroom. what the fuck. why are people having sex in an airplane bathroom, thats the most disgusting thing ever. they needed to hurry up bc a girls got to piss.

the beautiful brunette girl walks up to me, or well i guess to the bathroom. i admire her face.

“are people seriously having sex in an airplane bathroom”

i laugh and continue to look at her.

“honestly, like i understand doing it in your seat but the bathroom? seriously? thats the dirtiest place on the whole plane,” i said

“she laughs, are you headed to italy or is it a stop before another flight?” she asks

“yeah i’m going to italy, a friend actually planned this as a birthday trip, what about you?”

“oh, i live in italy, sorry let me rephrase i am italian and i used to live there, just visiting some family” she says

“oh nice, you’ll have to tell me some of the great places to go”

“of course!” she smiles at me

suddenly the bathroom door opens and a lady and a man walk out. both of them fixing their hair snd their clothes.

“after you,” the brunette says

“wait, i never ended up getting your name”

“we still have a whole 2 hours left of this flight, don’t worry you’ll figure it out” she laughs

i lock the door and began to do my buiness. i look at myself and i think i’ve seen death. my hair was a mess, and eye bags darker than ever.

i fixed it as a quick as possible before returning to my seat.

i smile at the girl before she goes in. when i sit at my seat i slap wanda a couple times trying to tell her what happened just now. she just slaps me back harder and starts snoring.

this girl could cause an avalanche with her snoring.

suddenly the girl returns to her seat and we continue to converse as if nothing had stopped us before.

we spoke as if we had known eachother forever. maybe we did?

the flight started to come to an end but our conversation definitely didn’t.

“you got a number or something?”

“yeah here let me type it for you.

i type in my number and write “your plain gf ;)” misspelling plane.

she laughs and points it out. “guess you’re a basic girlfriend then”

i look at her confused, only for her to show me i misspelled plane. i laugh and blush akwardly.

when the plane lands it takes forever for me to wake up wanda. this bitch just wouldn’t wake up.

after what felt like 3 trillion years, i get her up and we start to get ready to leave the plane.

we were in italy…

a/n: omg finally chapter 3 is out

lmk if you want to be added to the taglist making a new one

new year new me 😜

[pugh-bug]

No.42 Chapter 5

Art Donaldson x reader slow burn friends to lovers

As always I hope you enjoy! 🍉✨ My taglist is always open

Part 4

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‘Pass me the sauce now bitch!’

Patrick responded by throwing a pillow at your head. Mature.

‘You’d never talk to Art like that.’ He looked amused for a moment, a smirk brewing as his eyes darted from Art’s face to yours. The three of you were eye deep in miso sauce, spring rolls and pad thai - Art’s treat. It was almost strange, seeing Art eat take out in your cosy flat knowing he probably had a maid growing up. You’d once heard Liam say Art’s parents place was obnoxiously bigger than even Tashi Duncan’s, as if you needed further convincing of his affluence.

Still, he was settled. He seemed it. He always thanked you for washing up or tidying, if he wasn’t offering or doing it himself, as if he was content with living lesser than his other peers. Of course they all had maids for the sort of things you and Patrick did, or pretended to do on lazy days, but Art never announced judgement. Besides his constant bantering with Patrick and the occasional dig at you for not being too sporty, Art was always pleasant. Pleasant or impressively good at bottling things in.

‘That’s because Y/N,’ Art raised his eyebrow at Patrick’s smirking face. ‘Actually has manners, she just doesn’t waste them on you.’ The pair beamed at each other, as they always did when they were ‘arguing’ over you. It was almost expected for you now, owed even. You loved it.

——————————————————————

‘I don’t get this movie, why’s it just talking?’

You’d decided to put ‘When Harry Met Sally’ on as a break from the constant tennis. The background drum of your life had become the incessant whacking of tennis balls, if it didn’t make Art so content you’d have quickly deleted SkySports.

Patrick half watched half texted his now ex girlfriend back, to your dismay. It wasn’t long before he’d finished his food, shovelling it in like an animal as always, and announced he was going to bed. He ruffled your hair in his brotherly way before returning to his room. The door had barely closed before Art paused the movie from his spot on the floor.

‘Do you agree?’

You looked down at Art’s inquisitive face and the charming face of 80s Meg Ryan, knowing what he meant. Harry had just made his ‘men and women can’t be friends’ speech. You shoved the blanket off your hot legs to escape the extra heat and settled into your couch position comfortably.

‘Do you see me fucking Pat?’

Art grinned widely, almost boyishly, at your remark. You noticed he seemed to get almost giddy whenever you were a little crude, like you both intimidated and entertained him simultaneously. He hung his head, still smiling, before shaking it. ‘No but just - just tell me. I wanna know what you really think.’

No man ever wanted to know how you really thought more than Art. He’d asked you more about your beliefs and emotions than a reporter on the cusp of ‘making it big’. You seemed almost to be his scoop, his challenge, his big win but you wondered what would happen when you ran out of answers.

He was waiting for you to speak. Eager. You cast your mind back to all of your past male friendships, the times they hit on you unexpectedly or bullied you to ‘flirt’ or worst of all: told you they’d never seen you as a friend at all. That one always hurt. Most of those friendships had hurt and most of them had left Patrick waving the ‘not all men’ flag proudly as he stood victorious. The last man standing. Your last good, platonic best friend.

‘You can ask all you want Donaldson, I don’t see Patrick that way.’

He wasn’t completely satisfied with your answer, or he made sure he wasn’t just to encourage his own bad behaviour.

‘Not once? You’re telling me you two never had too much to drink or got dared? Not even spin the bottle when you were like 14?’

‘Sorry to disappoint.’

He looked elated and horrified all at once. The man was desperate and for a moment you couldn’t tell if he was devastated more for Patrick or for you.

‘What made you turn the poor guy down?’

Oh. For Patrick.

‘What makes you so sure he asked me out? Didn’t you watch the movie?’

Art finished his last spring roll, shaking his head. ‘I watched the movie that said ‘men and women can’t be friends’ a hundred times.’ He crossed his legs, his baggy t shirt exposing his collarbone. Ashamed as you were, you couldn’t deny the urge you had to just bite and kiss him. That made your following question all the more ironic.

‘So you don’t think men and women can just be friends?’

You made sure to ask it in such a way that implied he was wrong, foolish for believing something so immature despite your very thoughts proving him right.

‘I think if she’s attracted to guys and he likes girls it can’t ever be just a friendship. Sorry.’

‘Hmm.’

You listened to the sad sound of Patrick’s fan fighting for its life against the heatwave. Every time you and Art had a moment of silence the whir of the fan provided ambience.

‘You wanna wash up?’ Art asked, as if he was offering a special treat of some kind and not your least favourite task of all time.

‘Not even a little bit.’

That was when he did it, what until that point only Patrick had been honoured enough to do, he ruffled your hair. A small gesture? Absolutely. One you’d forget? Unlikely.

Once Art was elbow deep in washing up liquid he asked you a question he’d been longing to ask you for days. Did you enjoy living with him?

‘Of course I do.’ You couldn’t help but scoff at his question. Was he truly that insecure? Still, you revelled in messing with him a little - just for fun. ‘I’m happy for Pat, he always wanted a boyfriend to move in. He finally committed.’ That earned you a splash of noodle water to the face. A long pause followed, one that lead you to believe it was time for bed.

‘I am grateful,’ Art sighed, his voice low and his eyes down. ‘I know I could have asked my parents to get me my own place but …’ You watched him stop scrubbing the plate in his hand all together, his eyes unfocused. ‘I don’t like being alone.’

With his back to you, Art stacked the pots with intense precision. You weren’t sure what to say except:

‘Who does?’

Chapter 6

Masterlist

Taglist: @gatorgirl007 @imblushingrn @soy-garbage

[connabeth]

The first two episodes were wonderful and I really enjoyed the imagery and cinematography along with how every actor embodied the character but here are things I will complain about because I can:

1. I don’t want to see R*ck in it, why did they have to show his face…

2. Sally Jackson still just seems like a Random White Woman™️ to me. The acting was good but something just isn’t clicking for me. Also…the way she was a hardass on grover…i did not like it.

3. WHY WAS THERE BARELY ANY ANNABETH?? my girl is the star of the show!!! she’s supposed to be the one to show percy around camp and have that funny banter where he asks her questions and she answers all of them without answering at all, leaving him more confused than he was before. that was the best part of the intro chapters imo. WHY DID CH*RON TAKE HER PLACE???

3a. the full shot of a little percy standing next to chiron’s absolute wagon while walking into the hermes cabin still absolutely sends me 😭😭. it ALMOST makes up for a lack of annabeth

4. why was annabeth just hovering there in the infirmary and not nursing him like she did in the book😭 they rly made her stalk him instead of just being the person who introduced him to everything. in the book, he was already taking mythology lessons with annabeth by the time the quest came around. she didn’t feel quite as integrated into the narrative as she should’ve been. i did love how blunt she was though. she’s many things, but apparently a liar isn’t one of them.

5. clarisse didn’t call him prissy

6. why was smelly gabe so…sanitized. he’s a loser who doesn’t treat them well but his depiction also doesn’t live up to the abusive pos he really is. the interactions with him didn’t have the same gravity as they did in the books, they just seemed too lighthearted…he also should’ve looked greasier. i know abuse comes in many forms and doesn’t always reveal itself right away but he was a lot more of a pushover than i would expect him to be if sally stood up for herself

7. the plot about the hellhound that sets up luke as the traitor…simply vanishing. annabeth shoving percy’s ass into the water to figure out he can heal was funny though. would’ve been cooler if it healed a giant hellhound claw mark rather than a nick

8. percy doing some half-assed flossing on a rock alone while waiting to be maimed during capture the flag, not knowing who his dad is or if he’ll ever get his mom back is so fucking funny in the most miserably way but also…why is he a fortnite kid, this is supposed to be 2006 😭. the implication that annabeth is standing there silently watching him almost makes up for it. i can’t imagine what was going through her mind…like girl that’s your future husband good luck

[bardot49]

Fight or Flight

Chapter 5

Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI)

Pairing: Joel Miller x OC (Jackson era)

Warnings: Themes of anxiety, PTSD, blood, gore, death, illness, injury, canon violence, cursing, alcohol misuse, mentions of child loss, foreplay, p in v, fingering, smut, explicit

Tags: Jackson!era Joel, Soft Joel Miller, Moody Joel Miller, Joel miller x AFAB reader, joel x female reader, Joel Miller Romance, Joel Miller x OC, Joel Miller slow burn

Masterlist here

Previous Chapter

Chapter Summary

Joel and Flora have a heart to heart and grow ever closer. A crisis concerning Ellie causes Joel to ask for Flora's help. Flora finally finds the courage to stand up for herself.

Chapter 5

"Give me time, I'm going to wear him down" Felicity says decisively to her friends as they walk down the main street. Flora couldn't help but overhear it as they came out of the hall and walked right in front of her causing her to stop abruptly. She knows Felicity is referring to Joel. She feels relieved nothing had happened between the two of them yet. "That brat is an annoyance, always hanging around. She's not even his real daughter" Felicity continues to say with venom. She feels angry at the mention of her friend. Felicity isn't the most discreet person and her friends only seem to encourage her bitchiness. They then start talking about something else trivial when she has an opportunity to pass them out. The other women don't give her a glance but she's glad she's not friendly with them.

"Everything ok honey?" Sally gives Flora a look as she arrives at the greenhouse. "Yep, just have a lot on my mind". "I'm here if you need me" Sally says with a kind smile. Sally is a dear friend to her but she can't talk to her about this, it's not her secret to tell. Ellie comes in and she tries to perk up for her. Flora has a suggestion for her - a tattoo to cover up the bites on her arm. Ellie lights up at the idea, the only obstacles are to first find someone willing to tattoo her and secondly to get Joel to agree to it.

There is a low hum of chatter when Joel goes into the Tipsy Bison one evening. He was after a long day patrolling and is feeling every one of his 57 years, his joints aching and back feeling stiff. They had shot six clickers that day and another few infected were caught in the traps located around the vast forest. Tommy told him that the Committee are having a meeting to plan an Easter egg hunt for the kids so he knew that for certain Felicity would be otherwise occupied. He felt like a quiet drink without her hanging around. The barman, Dave hands him a double whiskey and he takes a sip. "Evening Joel" says Eugene as he joins Joel at the bar. Joel raises his glass to him in greeting. Eugene takes a large gulp of his own drink and explains its the date of his wedding anniversary. "Forty one years since we said 'I do'. I miss her everyday. She was my one and only" he hiccups, burping a little. "She would have loved it here, my missus. Valerie was her name. We never could have kids, as much as we tried, she miscarried half a dozen times. In the end we were content with our little family of two." "Sorry to hear that Eugene" Joel replies. "Cancer got her in the end, the month before the world turned to shit" Eugene sighs, signalling to Dave for another round. Dave places the two glasses on the bar, firmly saying "Last one Eugene, I mean it". "Ok, ok" Eugene says waving his hand dismissively. "The reason I'm saying this is…" him trailing off. "…If you have a chance at happiness, take it." "To happiness" he toasts, his voice getting sleepy and Joel clinks his glass with his. Joel tells him about where they caught clickers earlier and Eugene remembers that's his turn to go patrolling the following day. "Oh fuck, I don't think I'll be in any state to go…" he slurs putting his head in his hands. Joel feels sorry for him, offering "Don't worry about it, I'll cover for you". A look of relief passes Eugene's face and he pats Joel on the shoulder saying "Thanks man, I owe you one" and he throws back the remaining liquid in his glass. "Look out for Flora, she's a sweet girl" he says protectively. "Of course I will" Joel answers, meaning it. He offers to walk the older man home before he gets more inebriated. After making sure Eugene is gone inside, Joel passes Flora's house on his way home. He can see the light still on upstairs, maybe she's reading he thinks to himself. He looks forward to seeing her in the morning, forgetting all about his aches and pains.

The following morning Flora arrives for patrol to see Joel putting the saddle on his horse. "Eugene is hung over again and Sean hurt his hand so just us two today" he explains. "Cool" she answers, trying to stay calm. They ride along in silence, the last of the snow finally cleared. She eventually plucks up the courage to say what she desperately wanted to say before, "Thank you for the book, it means a lot to me". He just shrugs it off, saying "It was nothing". It looks like he doesn't want to talk about it anymore so she doesn't say anything else. She thinks it's going to be a long ride today.

They don't speak for a couple of hours. Once they reach the furthest part of the route, past the dam, Joel finally breaks the silence saying they should stop for a while and have a break. Flora nods, climbing down from her horse and tying it up. They're up quite high and she can't help but admire the view of the valley below. He hands her a cup of coffee out of the flask and she relishes the warm drink. They both feed the horses and she joins him to sit on a log as they eat their lunch in silence. She can't think of anything to say. "Where are you from?" he enquires eventually. She jumps at his question at first but answers "Washington state". He nods. "You're from Texas aren't you, Tommy said it once". Their eyes meet and up close she can't help but notice the rich colour of his brown eyes, the deeply etched lines around them making him even more handsome. "Yes, just Tommy and myself still around now" he answers. There's silence again. She surprises herself by talking more. "I'm the only one left from my family". He listens intently, not wanting her to stop sharing. "They all died on the day of the outbreak. I had a younger brother and sister, ten year old twins. They went with our mom to the supermarket when it all happened on outbreak day, I never saw them again, I found out later they were caught in an explosion from a plane crash. My dad.." she feels a tear coming to her eyes, hesitant at first but continues to speak. "We had a fight that morning over something stupid", her voice breaking, "I told him I hated him and he went to work and never came back again" she says in a hoarse way. She looks down as the tears start streaming down her cheeks. The shame is too much for her to bear. Joel moves closer to her, handing her a handkerchief with a look of concern. He tries to console her "You were only young, he knew you didn't mean it". "But it doesn't change the fact that I said it and there's no way of taking it back". She says sadly. Joel puts his arm around her tentatively and she rests her head on his shoulder. "It's a shitty situation" he says, rubbing her arm gently. All she can do is nod. "My daughter Sarah died on the night of the outbreak. Tommy was with us and we were trying to get out of Austin but couldn't, it was mayhem. We crashed the jeep and she hurt her ankle. We tried to cross the river but a soldier shot at us and she died in my arms. I replay that night over and over and I can't get over the fact that I failed her and I lost the most precious thing to me." She sees that he's heartbroken. "You're a great dad to Ellie" she says to him. He smiles sadly and admits he would do anything to protect her, she's the most important thing to him now. She opens up once more "Flora isn't actually my real name you know, its a nickname my dad gave me when I was a small child and it stuck. I kept using it all these years in honour of him". He looks in interest towards her and when she tells him her real name he smiles softly, saying it's beautiful but Flora suits her and she gives a small smile in return. After a moment she feels mortified for showing such weakness, and apologises "Sorry for telling you all that, I kept it inside all those years, I don't think I ever spoke about what happened on Outbreak day with my dad to anyone, except for Sally". "Don't apologise, I'm glad you told me Darlin'" he looks deeply into her eyes and sees years of sorrow and loneliness. She looks away swiftly and tries and fails to hold back another tear. He can see she has a deep sadness within her that he can identify with. He stands up to give her some space and checks on the horses. When he returns she is picking some wildflowers. He can't help but admire her natural beauty, she looks almost ethereal in the spring sunlight surrounded by nature. After a few minutes they decide to head back. Her eyes are still red rimmed but she feels a bit lighter to have spoken about it. It didn't frighten her like it might have before when he called her Darlin'. There didn't seem to be much awkwardness between them, they were just two lonely people.

When they eventually reach the stables late that afternoon, Joel says "Thanks for being there for Ellie, you mean a lot to her". Flora smiles and says "Ellie is special to me too." "By the way, it's a great idea about the tattoo" he grins. She is surprised he is so open to it but doesn't let it show. "Ellie said she would like to ask you to design it when the time comes, because of your paintings". She's honoured to be thought of and gives a shy smile, saying she might have a few ideas. Her paintings were mainly of flowers and not many people were aware of them because she doesn't have many visitors at her house. They say goodbye and head off on their separate ways. She replays the conversation they had at lunchtime in her mind all evening. She doesn't know why she showed such vulnerability but it happened. Should she have told him her darkest secret, which has caused her so much sorrow and shame the past two decades? Will he think less of her? It was unspoken but she knows he won't tell anyone. Likewise he can trust her, she would never speak about his daughter to anyone else. It was quite an intimate moment between them actually. Flora comes to the realisation that her crush on him seems to have gotten only stronger instead of fading away, she's fallen deeply in love with him. The fear she felt last year has dissipated. It's all she wants now, to have him in her life and to be his. She doesn't know if it's too late for that though, maybe he doesn't feel the same about her.

As Flora gets into bed that night she starts to get excited thinking of ideas for Ellie's tattoo, thinking of suitable options to design for her. Hours later a distant knock on her front door wakes her. She hops out of bed and pulls on a sweater in confusion at the increasingly frantic sound. She rushes to open the door and is taken aback to see Joel standing there in the dark. She has to squint because she's half asleep. "Ellie's gone, she's run away" he says, panic showing in his normally steady voice. "It will be alright, we'll find her" she replies in shock, trying to stay calm herself. "Come in, I'll just be a minute". He stands inside the door while she runs to her room and puts on a pair of jeans and a jacket. 5:12am is the time on the clock. They walk briskly to the stables where Dina, Tommy and Eugene are gathering the horses. She goes over to Dina who's visibly upset. "What happened?" "We had a fight. She told me she has feelings for me and I got a fright and said no and she ran off after that. I'm so confused". Dina's nose is running and her cheeks are tear stained so she hands her a tissue and tries to comfort her. "Where do we start?" Tommy asks. They list out a few places in town where she might have gone. Dina tells them there is a place they went one time, its by a large tree in an old part of town. "I know it" Flora says. "Show me so" Joel says firmly, looking at the two women. "Check the perimeter and make sure she hasn't left" he directs the two men. They nod in understanding and set off.

The early morning light is starting to shine but the spring air is cool, their breaths visible in the air. There's no talking and Dina has stopped crying. They see the ancient tree and the abandoned record shop nearby. Joel glances at her to see if this is the right place. They start calling Ellie's name but no answer. Dina goes in and walks up and down the empty aisles. There no sign of Ellie anywhere. Joel is just about to say this was a waste of time when they hear a faint muffled voice saying "Go away". The sound seems to be coming from upstairs. "I'll go" Flora insists and starts to climb over fallen shelves to get to the mezzanine and she feels a pair of strong arms steadying her as she reaches up. She sees Ellie curled up in a ball, she has been crying as well. She crouches on the ground next to her and Ellie starts rambling about Dina and how she rejected her. She consoles her, saying Ellie was brave to say what she said and to give Dina some time to consider things. After a few minutes, Ellie agrees to come down and Joel is there to help them. The two girls give each other a hug and apologize. Dina explains she needs time and Ellie nods sadly in understanding. Flora gives a quick glance at Joel and there is a look of relief on his face. He puts his hand on her arm briefly, saying thanks and leaves quickly to let others know that Ellie has been found. The town is waking up with people milling around as she walks home. Feeling exhausted, she goes back to bed and sees him in her dreams.

When Flora wakes a few hours later, she feels a sense of calm. She draws a sketch of a tattoo design for Ellie, after finding a suitable picture in a gardening book. After a while she decides to get some early lunch. To her dismay, she sees Felicity and her two friends sat there in the hall. She can't shake off the feeling that there are eyes on her as she takes a sandwich and an apple. They seem to be talk extra loud this time. "She ran away, attention seeking little bitch. I heard him and that mousey girl found her…I heard that…". She couldn't believe her ears, were they seriously talking that way in front of her and about her? Mousey girl, she fumes. They continue on and she glances up and sees Felicity's friend Michelle glaring at her. So she wasn't being paranoid, they were making it obvious. Flora normally avoids confrontation but their words stung. How dare they talk like that. After the night she had, she doesn't care anymore. Before she has time to think, she finds herself standing in front of their table. "Don't dare speak about Ellie in that way" she says firmly. They look her up and down and Felicity seethes "Who are you anyway, you're nobody. You're so quiet everyone forgets you're there". She doesn't know where the courage has come from but she stands her ground. "Keep your opinions to yourself, the rest of us here aren't interested". Felicity scoffs and waves her hand in a dismissive way, "Fuck off mousey girl". "No, I won't, they are both important to me so don't ever talk like that again" she surprised herself with her own voice appearing steady even though she's shaking inside. Felicity responds in a pitying way "Oh I see now, you think Joel would be actually be into you, that's so pathetic". The other women start to snigger at her. Maria appears out of nowhere with the baby asleep in a sling. "Everything alright ladies?" She looks in concern at Flora standing there. "Oh yes, we were having a private conversation and mousey girl here decided to interrupt us, we're just leaving". They start to gather up their things. Maria holds up her hands to stop them and protests "Hang on, what did you actually say? Don't you dare speak to Flora like that" the women are frozen on the spot at the strictness of her voice. "I'm afraid Felicity the three of you and I will have to talk about this further. It is totally unacceptable. Come to my house at three" Maria continues curtly. Felicity rolls her eyes as they march off.

Maria turns and sees Flora shaking. "Are you ok?" She puts her arm around her. "Don't mind them, they were completely out of order" Maria says kindly, "I'll walk with you if you like". Flora grimaces as they leave the building and she starts babbling, "They were talking about Ellie and I couldn't take it any more, I feel sick now. Why were they calling me mousey girl?". "Felicity is just a bitch, she's annoyed that Joel didn't bother with her. He told her to stay away from him, that he doesn't want to be with her. Tommy said there wasn't ever anything between them, it was only her pursuing him. He tried letting her down easy a few weeks ago but she didn't get the hint so when she threw herself at him last night he made it crystal clear that he doesn't want her" Maria says matter-of-factly and continues "She's jealous because she probably noticed he's only interested in you and she wanted to hurt your feelings. Its just so petty of her". Flora hopes what she just heard is true, is maybe she didn't mess everything up with Joel after all. The outside air is refreshing and she's glad to be away from the curious looks of the others in the hall. "You know you're very well regarded here by everyone. You work hard and we all value you. Please don't take those stupid women's words to heart, they're not worth it" Maria says earnestly. "I'll try not to" Flora says as her eyes begin to water. Maria starts chatting about baby Joey, who's beginning to wake up. By the time they reach her house, she feels a little better about things already but she can't quite believe it happened, this has sent her reeling.

A few hours later, Maria goes to the building site and Tommy comes out to see her and their son. Maria tells him she needs to speak to Joel. He is up on the roof when he hears Tommy calling him to come down. Maria fills them in and Joel feels anger rise up in him, how dare that harpy disrespect Flora and Ellie like that. Maria tells them she spoke to Felicity and the others and they won't dare behave like that again or there will be repercussions. Maria is a force to be reconned with so anyone in their right mind wouldn't go against her. Joel tells them he's going to see Flora and runs straight in the direction of her house. He passes Sally when he's nearly there and she tells him Flora and Ellie went to his house. They had called to the greenhouse for some leaves. She reckoned it must be for an art project. Joel thanks her and turns around to go home.

Joel rushes in the front door, trying to catch his breath. Flora's heart soars when she sees him. "I heard what happened" he explains to her, as they both sit down on the sofa, "I came to see you as soon as I could. Maria told me". She nods. "Thanks for standing up for Ellie. I don't give a shit about Felicity and never did, she's not worth any of our time. I only care about you, you're the one I think of". She's taken aback by his honest declaration, not sure how to respond at first but she replies "You're both important to me so I had to do something. I care about you too-". Ellie comes back into the living room and sits in the middle of them, excitedly showing Joel the sketches for the tattoo so far. The moment has passed, there was so much more to say. He smiles fondly at Ellie, relieved to see she is happier. The girls had a good chat that morning and agreed to take things slow. Ellie announces she's going to see Dina, she turns to her saying "Are you coming Flo?". Flora stands up and starts to say "Well…" but Joel asks "Could I have a quick word with you first?". She nods, sitting back down. Ellie shrugs, saying she'll go then.

Once Ellie has left, Joel moves closer to Flora and reaches for her hands. "I'm sorry if I scared you before, my feelings have stayed the same. I've fallen for you". She takes a moment before admitting "You didn't do anything wrong Joel, I didn't handle it very well. I never had a relationship before so I was afraid. I'm not anymore, I want this…I want you", she lifts his hands to her lips and places a light kiss on the back of his hand. Full of hope, he gently cups her cheek in his palm. He moves towards her slowly, searching for any hesitation on her side. She doesn't back away and his eyes flicker towards her soft lips. She moves towards him and they are only an inch or two away from one another. Finally their lips meet in a slow gentle kiss. It's chaste at first and he pulls away and looks into her eyes. Her pupils have dilated and she gives a small smile. The spark between them is stronger than ever.

Ellie bursts in the door again "Forgot my coat, its pouring down…" she stops and looks at the two of them in an embrace and her face breaks into a grin, "I knew it, at fucking last!" and grabs her coat, saying "I'll be away hours" with a wink and goes out the door again. They both smile and he turns to her again, "You're beautiful. I love you" he murmurs before they kiss once more, this time increasingly urgent and longing. Flora reaches up to hold on to his hair and feels the soft curls beneath her fingers and he pulls her closer in his arms. They break away briefly, her admitting "I love you too Joel". He shrugs off his jacket as they lean back on the sofa to get more comfortable. He delicately kisses down her neck to her collarbone and she giggles at the sensation, his wispy beard tickling her. He starts to chuckle too. She kisses his temple and her hands brush lightly over his scar there. Time seems to stand still and there's only the two of them.

She's not sure how long they stay there until Joel asks her if she's hungry and she admits that she's starving. He tells her to stay there and he goes in to the kitchen to rustle up something. She looks over where his guitar is propped up on a chair and there's a stack of guitar music books on the table. She sits at the table and flicks through some of them, recognising the names of the musicians - Johnny Cash, Willie Nelson, Roy Orbison, The Beatles and more. Joel comes in with two bowls a few minutes later. He heated some Tortilla soup, telling her Maria had made it using their Abuela's recipe and had dropped some over the previous evening. It had been one of Sarah's favourites growing up. Flora sees how he lights up talking about his wonderful daughter and how proud he is of her. Once they are finished eating he pours them both a glass of whiskey, it's nice just the two of them spending time in each others company. "Will you play a song for me?" Flora asks shyly. Joel grins, saying "Any requests?". "I don't mind, maybe something from the Eighties?" she says, with a hopeful smile. He beams back at her, reaching for a songbook called 'Classic Guitar Ballads' and flicks through the pages, until deciding that he found just the song. He says "Here goes" and starts playing the intro deftly. She's mesmerised by him playing the guitar so skilfully, his limber fingers flying over the chords. He starts singing huskily and she recognises the song as 'When you say nothing at all' as sung by Keith Whitley. He concentrates on getting the correct chords but looks up at her briefly every so often and she feels a warm glow in her chest and continues to admire him without feeling embarrassed. The lyrics are meaningful to her and they both fall even deeper in love with each other at that moment.

"It's amazing how you can speak right to my heart Without saying a word you can light up the dark…"

"…All day long I can hear people talking out loud But when you hold me near you drown out the crowd…"

"…Old Mister Webster could never define What's being said between your heart and mine…"

"…The smile on your face lets me know that you need me There's a truth in your eyes saying you'll never leave me A touch of your hand says you'll catch me if ever I fall Yeah, you say it best When you say nothing at all"

When Joel finishes the song Flora claps and he takes a small bow before they both move back to the couch where they start kissing once more, one of his hands resting on her thigh and her arms wrapped around his neck. They can't get enough of each other. "Touch me Joel" she pleads. "Where, darlin?" She opens up the button on her jeans, undoing the zip and guides his hand under her underwear. He gently strokes her, easing his fingers into her folds. She sighs, closing her eyes, "That's nice…" He slides two fingers inside her, muttering "Sweetheart, you're gorgeous". "I need you, keep going please" she begs. "Yes darlin, I'd do anything for you, I want to make you feel good…" He says soothingly. "You are…so good" she manages to say before biting her lip in pleasure. She starts to pant, as his stroking gets increasingly urgent. "Uh huh, I'm going to"…before she can say anymore, she reaches a crescendo and starts to tremble, he feels her quivering around his fingers nestled deep inside and keeps the rhythm going until she comes down from her high. Both satisfied, she lays back for a moment, catching her breath and Joel removes his fingers, licking the fluid from them. Sitting next to her, he says in awe "You taste wonderful, so sweet". She grins back at him, feeling content. She asks "Can we go upstairs? with a glint in her eye. He nods with a lustful look and he leads the way towards his bedroom, hand in hand.

He closes the door behind them and they sit on his bed. "We don't have to do anything else tonight" he says softly, reaching over to lay his hand on her cheek. Flora says decisively "I'm ready for this Joel". He nods, and asks "Is it your first time?". "Yes", she says feeling embarrassed at her lack of experience for a moment. "We'll take things slow, tell me if you're not comfortable and we can stop" he decides, trying to put her at ease, "It's only the two of us so no pressure". "Ok" she agrees and they continue to kiss. After a few minutes she straddles him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and he holds on to her waist and moves his hands to cup her butt through her jeans. They stop kissing for a moment and they start to remove their clothes gradually, starting with their shirts and vests underneath. She moves her hands across his broad chest and he admires her curves, gently unhooking her bra and letting it fall with the rest of the clothes. She pulls off the hair tie holding her braid together and her hair falls over her shoulders. He rests his hands on her full breasts, gently stroking her nipples, kissing sensuously down her chest. She leaves out a breathy sigh at this sensation, his touch giving her pleasure she never experienced before. She can feel his erection through his jeans and desperately wants to see all of him so she takes a step back and pulls him with her to stand up. They hastily pull off their boots, wriggle out of their jeans, then underwear and socks until they stand in front of each other naked. "Wow" he can't help but mutter in admiration as he sees Flora's naked form. She had never felt as beautiful until that very moment. She usually hid her body in large jumpers and thick shirts, not wanting to draw unwanted attention but at last she finally felt happy and wanted to share this moment with him. She in turn looks in appreciation at his strong and firm physique. She notices a few scars littering his body including a red raised scar on his taut stomach but she thinks he's magnificent. She looks down at his erect penis, reaching out cautiously to touch it. She starts to laugh nervously and he guides her hands over it. She gently strokes him, fascinated by the sight. She gets on her knees, kissing along it's length, causing him to twitch slightly at her light touch and he lets out a groan. She cups his balls in her hands as she kisses down the other side. "Sweetheart, I can't last much longer…" he mutters, looking upwards at the ceiling in an effort to stop himself coming prematurely.

She stands up and takes a step towards him and he reaches over to rub his thumb over her pink lips. They look deeply into each other's eyes and smile softly. He takes her hand and they slide in under the bedsheets and immediately put their arms around one another, desperately needing each other's touch. He briefly breaks a kiss to reach into his bedside locker for something. "Just a minute" he says as he goes over to his chest of drawers. She lays back in bed, admiring his tanned skin on his chiselled shoulders and arms. A moment later he returns with a foil in his hand. "Protection" he explains and she nods, watching him place the condom swiftly. "Is this ok?" he asks, moving gently on top of her, her legs opening instinctively to accommodate the size of him. "Yes" Flora assures him. "I hope this won't be too uncomfortable for you, it should only be this first time" he says lightly stroking her hair before lining himself up and moving in further to her. Flora takes a gulp of air, her breathing hitched, feeling tight at first but the sensation lessons as he moves further and further inside her. It feels so right, the two of them joined together in this way. He moves so gently but she feels pleasure increasing already and she tries to keep a whimper in. "Let it out" he smiles approvingly, gazing down at her as she starts to moan softly. Encouraged by this, he steps up the pace gradually, relishing every moment. She closes her eyes, saying "So good Joel, keep going.." she breathes deeply before biting her bottom lip. "You're gorgeous Flora, thank you" he can't help saying, she opens her eyes and looks up at him, with tears of happiness, "Joel, you're…", she feels a new level of pleasure, teetering on the edge "..amazing, oh there, there, there, yes, yes Joel". He can feel her shaking with ecstasy, her eyes opening wide and her head rolling back in to the pillow. he can't help but kiss her deeply as she looks at him again and grips his shoulders. He's close now too, the rhythm constantly moving taking him there. He looks down at her heaving chest, her soft breasts and her nipples looking so inviting. He can't resist when he catches one nipple in his mouth, sucking gently and letting go with a plop and moves to the other one. She leaves out a moan in pleasant surprise and immediately orgasms once more, arching her back, muttering his name. He whispers "Fuck Darlin', you're perfect". She starts to stretch, trying to let more of him in, franticly trying to get that high once more. He moves with her going as deep as he can and finally they both moan in pleasure. She's in another realm and he can't think of anything but the two of them at that moment. It's everything they both had dreamed of.

He eases himself out of her and they lie side by side, panting and they can't help but look at each other and grin. "That was.." he starts "..unbelievable" she finishes, giving him a kiss on his collarbone as she lays her head on his shoulder, both glistening with sweat. "So that's what I've been missing all these years" she jokes. He smiles, holding her closer "that was extra special, I don't think it ever felt like that for me before" and gives a gentle kiss to her forehead. "I hope I was ok at it" she says shyly. "Of course you were, you're a natural" he says softly. She traces a finger lightly over his chest. "Now that's making love", he agrees "So much better than just sex." She starts to grin, "I love you Joel, thank you". He smiles softly down at her "I love you too Darlin'". They continue to laugh and talk about everything and anything into the night until they both fall asleep in each other's arms.

Joel wakes in the early morning and sees her huddled against him, her pretty features calm and untroubled, with her long hair cascading over her shoulders. He can't believe it's not a dream, that they really are there together. He continues to look in awe at this beautiful creature occupying his bed, she makes him feel young again. He thought those days were long behind him but he feels the intensity of the love they share. Against all odds, here they are together. They belong to one another and he makes a promise to spend every day of the rest of his life making her happy. He closes his eyes once more, trying to savour the moment. Flora wakes up not long after, feeling rested. She takes notice of his handsome face, his strong nose and sees his lines on his forehead and his lips in a pout. She can't resist kissing him lightly on the lips at that moment and to her surprise he eagerly starts to return the kiss, the passion between them increasing. Gradually he opens his eyes, heavy with tiredness at first but up close she notices how they are shining. They both smile with pure happiness at one another. "Ready for round two?" she whispers and he grins back, a mischievous look in his eye as they join together once more.

Link for song Joel serenades Flora with:

[winniemaywebber]

The Apple Tree • Part 5

warnings: none!!! just sad

read previous chapter here

Y/N struggles with not knowing where Rosie is.

Every day had been the same since Rosie had gone MIA. You'd wake up, head feeling like it was in a vice and get to the school on autopilot. The sky had been appropriately gray, and thick with fog most mornings, the twin of your current state of mind. You'd stay at the school late, grading papers and try your best to construct meaningful lesson plans so the children could still thrive and learn despite your sadness. They'd sometimes ask, their sweet, little faces full of sympathy as they'd question your upset. “Miss?” A little voice would say, “Are you alright?” You'd force a smile on your face and look back at them reassuringly. 

“Yes, my dear,” your voice catching in your throat. “I'll be fine.”

---

A week. And then two. Three, then four, all rolling into a ball of nothingness, blurring together. Most days, you're greeted by Sally who is always available to walk you home despite the treacherous weather and everyday she looks at you with her big sad eyes, shaking her head mournfully, wordlessly reminding you that there's no new information. Most days, you walk home in silence, her arm in yours, keeping you upright physically as well as metaphorically.

It's on the fourth week, on a Friday, that you hear a sharp rap on your door. Being in bed already - the only way you can seem to feel close to Rosie - you simply yell “come in!” to whoever is visiting at this late hour. You hear the door open quietly, and hear the familiar tip-tap of Sally in her kitten heels. You hear her kicking them off and placing them by the door, hurrying up the stairs in her now stockinged feet, padding all the way up the plush carpet. 

“Hi, darling,” she greets quietly, her face full of sympathy. “I thought I'd try coax you out to the pub.”

“No thanks,” you mumble, staring up at the ceiling. “I'm fine here.”

“Oh, doll,” she begins, walking towards the bed. “How are you doing?” Still not tearing your eyes from the ceiling, you nod quickly, trying to reassure your friend. But she knows you better than that, and after all these years, she can read you like a book. Before you can properly respond, she sees two tears leak from each eye and splash into your ears and on the pillow. 

Trying to comfort you the way she used to when you were kids, she goes to lay down next to you on the bed.

“No!” you start. “N-no, Sal. Don't lay there,” you softly weep. “That's where Rosie slept the night before–” You wipe your face with the back of your hand, trying to stop the tears flowing. “It still smells like him. Don't lay on it, Sal.” You pause, looking at your friend, her own eyes full of tears. She sniffs, trying to blink them back. 

“Then squidge up,” she says after a moment. “I'll lay on your pillow with you.” You wriggle slightly to the right to make room for her in the center of the bed, you just hanging off the edge slightly. She takes your hand and strokes it, just like she did right after Granny passed away. You whimper at her action, the sob that was thick in your throat finally being released. 

“Where is he, Sally? Where's my boy?”

“Y/N…darling…I don't know. I ask James everyday for an update. He's promised that he'll be round here like a shot if he ever finds anything out.” You nod, swallowing as you sniff back more tears.

“He's a good egg, Sal. I like him. I like how happy he makes you.”

“Me, too,” she sighs wistfully. “When all this is all over, I'm thinking of moving there to be with him.” 

“Sally, that's wonderful. I'll miss you terribly–”

“But let's not talk of that now. We need to take care of you.” She crawls off the bed and pulls you with her. “Come on,” she commands, rushing to your wardrobe. “You need to stop rotting. Let's go to the pub. Apparently, Rita is engaged to two of the Americans and neither knows about the other. Isn't that something?” You hear yourself gasp and then giggle, the first laugh you've made in weeks. 

“Well, now you've tempted me. Now I have to come.” 

—

The excited yapping you hear as you walk into the pub ceases at the sight of you, your friends looking back at you in surprise, before they stand up and rush to hug you, one by one. Murmurs of “oh, Y/N, we're so happy to see you,” and “how are you doing?” follow their embraces, and you find your eyes leaking at their affection and sympathy. Hugging them back, you sigh, not quite used to this level of affection.

 “Alright, ladies,” you struggle to gasp out, but smiling nonetheless. “I need to know everything about Rita. Spill.” 

They sit down, excited to finally be able to tell you the tales they've heard over the past few weeks. For a moment, your head is clear, listening to your friends chatter on, their voices octaves higher as they giggle their way through the spiel. You don't even notice that Sally has rushed over to the bar to greet James, until he places a pint in front of you with a sympathetic smile. He winks at you as you smile back, knowing you're thanking him with no words needed. You take a long sip, letting the alcohol run through your body and somehow, giving it warmth as you finally are able to enjoy something.

“So, she ended up saying yes to both men because she didn't want to upset either of them, and somehow, Y/N, neither knows about the other. But, get this! They're co-pilots!”

“What?!” you screech, ale almost flying through your nose in shock. “They must know! There's absolutely no way–”

“We thought that, too!” Sally replies, wide eyed and a little frazzled. “But Rita maintains that they have no clue.”

“Nope, not buying it,” you giggle, hand covering your mouth. “They must talk about her to one another! They're either ignoring it or somehow, it's not clicking that they're both with the same girl!” 

For just a small moment, your overwhelming sadness is forgotten, the pit in your stomach somehow smaller than it had been in the past weeks. But, then, all of a sudden, your mind goes back to the night you spent with him; how he'd touched you, the way he'd wrapped himself around you to fall asleep for those few hours. The way he looked at you like you were the only girl in the world. It's those thoughts that send you into a tailspin, lips pressed together to keep the tears at bay. Draining your glass, you gesture over to the barman for another and try to keep breathing steadily. 

—

“Hey! Wait, seriously? You're not lyin’ to me?” You hear a familiar Tennessee drawl behind you, and an excited one at that. “Croz, she's right there!” They both pause for a moment. “Can I tell her, sir?”

“Sure thing,” Croz replies. You turn around at the two familiar voices. James smiling brightly at you, Harry nervously shuffling from one foot to the other, clutching his hat in his slightly shaking hands. 

“Y/N, c'mere, doll!” James beckons you over with his booming voice. You stand and walk towards the two men, forcing a polite smile on your face. 

���Hi, James. Oh, Harry, wonderful to see you. Can I get you a drink?” 

“No, ma'am,” he replies, now not able to hold back his apparent joy. “Pearson here has something to tell you. I've been rushing all over base looking for this fella to tell him what he's about to tell you.” You look at James with an expectant expression, feeling your eyes widen. He can't seem to get the words out, nor keep a straight face. 

“Out with it, Jimmy, before I lose my mind!” You scold, playfully pushing him. 

“Rosie got word to base!” 

“What?!” you shout, your arms going across your chest in shock. “W-where is he?” Tears fill your eyes and they escape before you're aware of what's happening. 

“He got shot down in Berlin,” Croz begins, his downturned eyes having an underlying sadness to them as he looks at you. “But, he managed to keep the plane flying until everyone had bailed out. He's in Russia.” 

“Russia? He's safe, right?”

“Yes, ma'am. He says they're taking really good care of him.” Harry laughs a little, wondering whether to divulge further information. You see that, and nod at him to carry on. “He says the vodka is impeccable.” Laughing, you feel familiar arms around your waist, Sally's head on your shoulder, half laughing, half crying as she hears the news. 

Word spreads to the rest of the pub, the airmen cheering and hugging at the news. James hands you a whiskey, then thrusting one in Croz's hand. You clink glasses with him, and with James before turning back to Harry.

“Thank you,” you begin, voice shaking slightly. “Thank you for coming to tell me, for even thinking of me.”

“No problem,” he replies nervously. “To Rosie?”

“To Rosie.”

---

thank you once again to my besties @sagesolsticewrites and @ginabaker1666 for reading this multiple times before posting (as usual!!!) <3

chapter 6

masterlist

[satureja13]

Vlad's Therapy Game - Part 5

Vlad can't believe he's sitting here without his shirt in front of Leander again! He has to remind himself over and over again that he does all this to help Ji Ho, Saiwa and Jack. And that this is just a game. Just. A. Game. After a while (that already took much too long if you asked Vlad) Leander had banged the rock into a rough shape.

Time to take measurements. Leander: "So where is what..."

Hahaha Leander can be happy that Vlad already drifted off ^^'

Then he banged around a bit more...

Leander: "Let's see..."

Leander, after another while: "Hmmm..."

Leander: "Oh-oh. This part is a bit too long."

The Queen wants her statues accurate. Leander: "Let's shorten this part a bit..."

And then he was finally finished! Leander: "Come - take a look." Vlad finally drifted back. He just daydreamed about making a certain part of Leander a bit shorter!

Leander: "What do you think?"

The damn statue looked nothing like him! The head and the face even looked like all the other heads here on the pedestals! Leander: "Of course he does! He's made in the image and likeness of you!"

Leander is hurt. No one ever dared to criticize his work.

And Vlad is furious. Leander could have easily done this without him sitting here for hours in humiliation! Tch!

Vlad collected his money, bougt some food and called Diablo. Vlad: "Let's never look back." Diablo: 'Agreed.'

'We walked him to the station in the rain We kissed him as we put him on the train And we sang him a song of times long gone Though we knew that we'd be seeing him again (Far away!) I'm sad to say I must be on my way So buy me beer or whiskey, 'cause I'm going far away (Far away!) I'd like to think of me returning when I can To the greatest little boozer and to Sally MacLennane'

The Pogues - Sally MacLennane TMI: Sally MacLennane is an irish stout (beer) and not a girl ^^'

And this is how Vlad hastily left Goldshire (and soon after the Therapy Game). He'd seen enough. Time to report back to Saiwa. He surely won't come back here so he didn't care who saw him topless. He wonders how time had passed for the others. Ingame time often passes much faster than in reality and the Bond didn't complain or demanded to be charged. So his guess is he only spent here a few hours real time even though it had been ~ 24 hours in the Therapy Game. That should be enough for playtesting. It seems quite safe (minus the embarrassment) but the others can decide for themselves if they are stable enough to try it.

From the Beginning  🔱  Underwater Love 🔱  Latest 🕹️ 'Therapy Game' from the beginning ▶️ here 📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 📜 7-12 📜 13-16 📜 17-22 📜 23-28

[fayes-fics]

It Had To Be You: Chapter 5 - This Was Never The Way I Planned

Masterpost PREV | NEXT

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, Anthony Bridgerton x Kate Sharma, Modern AU

Summary: A double date with an unexpected outcome...

artwork credit @colettebronte

Warnings: discussions of sex, swearing, public sexual acts.

Word Count: 3.0k

Authors Note: Unbetaed. A multi-chapter modern rom-com retelling of When Harry Met Sally. In this chapter, Benedict and reader attempt to set each other up, but it does not go at all to plan. This chapter is dedicated to @musicismyoxygen84 and published today to commemorate the birthday of Mr Thompson, the man who plays this titan of a fictional character. Enjoy <3

18 months ago (3 months later)

“Your face is naked!!”

“Not quite the greeting I was expecting,” he laughs and leans in to give you a quick hug.

It’s New Year's Eve, and Benedict has shaved his beard off since you saw him a few days before Christmas. He looks younger and older at once, somehow, without it. Very handsome, though. His strong jawline is even more apparent now. Bastard.

You’re at some fancy rooftop party somewhere on Shoreditch High St., agreeing to be each other's plus ones, both of you not wanting to stay home and get maudlin about how your lives have changed since the last New Year celebrated with other halves.

“I like it,” you offer, “I can see more of your face.”

“This is indeed my face,” he laughs. “I figure new year, new me,” he shrugs, and you completely understand his reasoning. You briefly considered dying your hair for a similar reset.

A few hours later, you’re both quite a few drinks in, sitting at the bar. Most people, by this point, are dancing. The music has a hypnotic, heavy bass that makes you sway subconsciously on your bar stool.

“Come on, let’s dance then,” it’s almost a defeated sigh as he hauls you to your feet, two large hands landing on your hips as he walks you forward from behind. The touch surprises you, but it’s most definitely not unwelcome.

“You don’t dance,” you laugh over your shoulder as he propels you towards the dancefloor. Then gasp as he grabs your hand and expertly spins you away and back, your body curled into his—a warm solid mass.

“Don’t I?” It’s silky, murmured into your hair, and your mouth drops open in surprise. 

“Benedict Bridgerton!” You admonish as he starts to lead you expertly in a salsa-type dance. “How dare you keep this from me!”

He spins you away again with a devilish grin, then back into his arms, your bodies swaying together. Something in your tummy flutters as he leads you in a dance, his hold always respectful but the moves undeniably sensual. You can feel the latent power in his body as it flexes around you. It makes your thoughts scatter in directions they shouldn’t—like when you got a preview of his sexual prowess, although for comic effect, in the restaurant weeks ago. The way he growled ‘look at me’ has occasionally popped into your head at the most inopportune moments since, making you squeak self-consciously. Last week, you dropped the gravy at Christmas dinner when it happened.

“TEN SECONDS TO NEW YEARS!!” the DJ yells, cutting into your abstraction and turning down the music.

There is an awkward moment where you stop dancing but stay holding each other as if you are, as everyone around you starts counting down. Your gaze falls from his eyes to his lips unconsciously.

“Do you want to get some air?” he blurts out, and you nod, grateful. It suddenly feels too hot on the dancefloor.

He releases his tight hold and slots your hand into his, leading the way, weaving through the crowd until you are out on the terrace. It’s so cold and crisp that few other people brave it. You stand awkwardly, half facing each other as party poppers go off inside, people yelling, and couples kissing. 

His eyes cut to yours as you share a slightly awkward smile, uncertain, even tipsy, about what you should do.

“Happy New Year,” Benedict says softly.

“Happy New Year,” you reply, a flutter in your gut as he moves in for a hug and a friendly kiss.

It’s just a peck on the lips, but your stomach leaps regardless. His lips are warm and soft in the cold night air. You long to linger, grab his clothing and draw him in for more, bow your body into him, and let him plunder from you. The want for much more is electric. However, it’s over in a second, and when you pull apart, something in his expression looks thoughtful, almost puzzled. 

Just as you go to say something to cut the tension of the moment, someone very drunk stumbles out of the party and projectile vomits right next to you both, narrowly avoiding your shoes.

“Seems an apt metaphor for the year we’ve just had,” Benedict comments drolly. And just like that, the odd spell between you is broken as you share a laugh and quickly move away.

——

“I’m not sure about this,” Kate wavers as you drag her down the pavement with your arm looped in hers on a cold Thursday evening the following March.

“Ben is a great guy; I really think you’d like him. It’s just dinner; where’s the harm?” you cajole.

This is a plan you and Benedict had hatched over dinner last week. He softly admitted he thought he might be finally ready to start dating again and did you know of anyone single. Your first thought was, of course, Kate, wanting her to find a good man to pull her out of the toxic thing she has with that married man. The idea of your two closest friends potentially finding happiness together gives you such a warm glow. You suggested a double date, a safe way for you to introduce each other to people you know. That’s when he lit up and said he was confident you’d like his older brother Anthony.

So now you are marching towards the restaurant to meet Benedict and his brother. 

“I still don’t understand why you are trying to set me up with this guy if you have deemed him not good enough to date yourself,” she grouses.

“Kate, that's not it at all. He’s a fantastic guy. Definitely good enough to date. We are just friends, that’s all,” you insist.

She shoots you a side-eye.

“Listen, I’ll admit, this is going to be his first date since his marriage breakup,” you hold up a silencing hand when you see her go to protest, “but that’s a good thing. He has taken the time to heal and is finally ready to date again. He is a nice guy and available, unlike someone you know,” you conclude pointedly.

She sighs.

“He’s never going to leave his wife, Kate,” you add, knowing where her thoughts have run.

She slumps her shoulders. “You’re right; I know you’re right. Okay…” she concedes.

--

“Explain to me why you’re trying to set me up with the woman you are in love with,” Anthony drawls as their Uber crawls through Soho traffic.

Benedict splutters. “I’m not in love with her!”

“You talk about her ALL the time,” Anthony says pointedly, looking at him sceptically.

“She’s my best friend; of course I do,” Benedict frowns. “And you just said you wanted to meet someone who isn’t - I quote - so dumb you want to smack yourself. She’s smart, and I think you’d get on really well.”

“Fine,” Anthony capitulates, “but you’re paying for dinner, and if it goes tits up, remember, this was all your idea.”

“Guilty as charged,” Benedict concedes, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender.

--

Twenty minutes later, you are sat around a circular table, close to Anthony, opposite Benedict, who sits close to Kate. You wouldn’t deny that Anthony is a handsome man, and you can see the family resemblance, even though his eyes are brown to Benedict’s blue. He’s different in personality, though, no-nonsense, forthright and every inch the CEO he is. Very different to Benedict’s more laid-back temperament that you are so used to. It’s obvious Anthony runs on a schedule, whereas Benedict lives in the moment. 

How different they are preoccupies your mind, to the point it overshadows your listening to him as he speaks. Too caught up in your own analysis. The conversation is one-sided as he waxes lyrical about the things he loves - apparently mostly sailing and investments so far -  topics you struggle to contribute to.

“Kate,” you pipe up when there is an awkward lull after you have all placed your orders. “Benedict used to live in France, just like you,” you offer as a conversation starter for them.

“Oh, where did you live?” she asks him.

“Paris. You?”

“Grenoble.”

And they sort of both look at you askance, wondering what else you can do to assist. It’s obvious there is not much chemistry there, and they are struggling even to make small talk.

“Anthony,” Benedict leaps in, seeing it is quiet on your side too, “y/n here’s parents used to live in Twickenham, right by your beloved Harlequins,” hoping that will help you.

“Urghhh, Harlequins. Really?” Kate cuts in, unable to school her disgust. You forgot about her somewhat incongruous love for rugby—what started as something about wanting to see thick thighs morphing into a whole pastime for her.

Instantly you see Anthony bristle. “What's wrong with the Harlequins?”

“Umm, I think you mean, what’s right with them, don’t you?” Kate shoots back over the table, tapping a painted nail on the surface. “Your team has been shit this year,” she opines, forthright, tossing her hair.

“What do you know about rugby?” Anthony leans in, his whole demeanour changing, suddenly looking very engaged for the first time this evening.

“More than you ever will, probably,” Kate raises a challenging eyebrow and leans back in her chair, crossing her arms.

Before you know it, they have launched into a heated, complex debate about the sport, gesturing wildly and arguing back and forth. You’ve never seen Kate so animated. And while you don’t know Anthony, anyone could read from his body language how invested he is.

Your eyes drift across the table to Benedict and his to you. Realising what is happening, feeling guilty, the person you have brought for each other is not a good match for either of you. A little shocked at how instant Kate and Anthony’s connection, albeit antagonistic, is. 

As the meal is served and the wine bottle content diminishes, conversation flows easier between the four of you than your pairs. But it seems like, at every opportunity, Kate and Anthony find a reason to challenge each other on everything from what should be included in a full English breakfast to the state of politics. As your dinner plates are taken away, they are fighting about Netflix.

“You are saying people should be able to share accounts, ad infinitum? Do you have any idea how much that is abused?” Anthony decries, very much in businessman mode.

“Oh yeah, poor little rich boy Netflix. They are so impoverished they were only able to spend, what, $20 million per episode on the last series of Stranger Things? Positively bankrupt. Pass me a tiny violin,” Kate sneers rolling her eyes.

Benedict's gaze cuts to yours, concerned, but you just shrug. It seems like they are getting pleasure from riling each other up; you see how Kate’s eyes flash, and it's not in annoyance. She is stimulated by it, sparring with a handsome man who can actually keep up with her for once. It’s more than a rare thing; it’s the first time you’ve ever seen it.

So when Anthony’s phone rings and he insists he needs to take it, Kate uses the break in their bickering to head to the loos.

“Bloody hell,” Benedict blows out his cheeks as you are left alone together at the table.

“They either hate or adore each other, I think maybe both,” you opine, taking a gulp of wine.

“I’ve never seen him like this,” he confesses, shaking his head disbelieving.

“It's a long time since I've seen Kate be quite this animated, I’ll admit,” you shrug.

As dessert arrives in their continued absence, you and Benedict chat amiably, shifting your seats closer to sit next to each other. In fact, it's only as you put down the spoons after sharing a creme brûlée that you notice Kate and Anthony have been gone for quite a while now—fifteen minutes or more.

“Where are they?” you frown.

“Ant headed that way when he took his call,” Benedict states, nodding towards a corridor.

“I think that's where the loos are,” you hum, thoughtful.

You exchange looks.

“Do you think they bumped into each other and continued arguing outside? I think there’s an outdoor space back there,” his tone intrigued.

You shrug. “Maybe?”

“I need the gents anyway. Let me go check,” he smiles.

“Okay,” you nod, reaching for your phone to text Kate.

Y/N: Where are you?

You've barely scrolled through a few Insta posts when Benedict is back with what you can only describe as a haunted look on his face.

“What’s wrong?” your question is a reflex to his expression.

“Yeah, uh, they’re not fighting,” he stutters.

“What happened then?”

“Uhhh, they are umm…” you've never seen him look so awkward and embarrassed. 

Then the penny drops.

“Fucking hell!” 

“Yeah…” his eyebrows shoot up.

“I have to see!” you stand up.

He reaches out and grabs your elbow. “No… you really don't.”

“Are they actually fucking?” your ask is a whisper.

“Pretty much,” he exhales, “I walked away when I saw… movement.” 

“Wow,” you utter, then after a few minutes of silence. “Still sort of want to see,” you murmur, and Benedict looks at you with intrigue. “What?” you add, defensive.

“Never took you for a voyeur…” he comments, an element of gravelliness there.

“Oh, come on, our best friends are fucking on some outdoor dining tables. We should at least check they are okay,” you answer in a playful tone; you cant help.

“That's my brother,” he reminds deadpan.

“OK, fine, you stay here,” you stick your tongue out fractionally, feeling his incredulous gaze as you stalk down the corridor, shooting him a wink over your shoulder as you go.

At the far end of the hallway is a glass door, and as you pull up, you survey the outside space; over to the left, there is an outdoor deck filled with outdoor dining tables. The light is low, but there indeed is Kate, perched on a table edge, her shapely, beautiful legs wrapped around Anthony, her skirt pushed up around her hips as they kiss hard. If they aren't doing it, they are doing an excellent impression of it, him rocking against her slowly, everything concealed by the expensive dark wool coat he wears. 

Somehow you linger, almost hypnotised by how good they look together. Part of you is so very pleased for your friend, completely unsurprised she would just go for it like this; when she wants something, she grabs it with gusto. Apparently, that includes one Anthony Bridgerton. If you are being honest with yourself, an even more significant part of you is jealous. It’s been a while since you shared a passionate moment like that.

Taking a deep breath, realising there could well be CCTV of you peering at them, you turn around to return to your seat. At the other end of the corridor is Benedict, watching you. He looks mildly troubled, to the point you feel self-conscious as you walk towards him.

“You watched them for a while,” he comments with a slightly uneven tone, a little vein in his neck pulsing.

“They look good together, not going to lie,” you offer with a neural shrug as you pull up next to him, and something makes you look up into his eyes. His pupils are slightly dilated. It's a very beguiling look on him. You don’t seem able to look away.

“Do you often watch other people have sex?” It’s an odd cadence like he’s attempting nonchalance and failing.

“I don’t make a habit of it,” you respond truthfully, keeping your voice low, not only not to be overheard but also to ensure he has to stay close to hear it, enjoying the proximity when he seems so flustered. “I was trying to figure out if they were actually doing it or just something else.”

“Something else?”

“Maybe just hand stuff?” you suggest.

“Yeah…I shouldn’t have asked,” he admits, pulling a face. “I don’t want to think about my brother doing.. that. Or anything really.”

“Let’s get out of here then?” you offer, moving towards the table and picking up your coat from the chair back.

He glances back towards the glass door and then nods. “I already paid. We could,” he comments. “Do you think they’d be okay with it?”

“I doubt they even remember we were here tonight,” you comment dryly.

--

You and Benedict retire to a pub a few doors down, grabbing a drink and sitting in a quiet corner. Just as you go to take a sip, your phone pings.

Kate: Where did you go?

“Looks like they emerged,” you inform him as your fingers fly over the screen, composing a reply just as his phone pings too.

Y/N: We left. We saw you guys…

Kate: Oh… you dirty little pervs 😉

Y/N: Says the woman fucking on a public dining terrace

Kate: We weren’t fucking!! I gave him a handjob, and he fingered me at the same time.

Kate: I did it to shut him up, tbh. It worked. 😌

Kate: Such an arrogant twat.

Kate: Fuck, he has a nice cock, though.

Kate: Oh God… I really like him. 🫣

You chuckle as you watch your friend unravel in real-time. You glance up and see Benedict is head down in his phone, too, probably texting with Ant.

Kate: Fuck it. I’m going home with him. He just asked.

Kate: I can’t say no to a cock (all senses of the word) like that.

Kate: Ciao Bella xx

Kate: if you don’t hear from me in 3 days, send an SOS. I don’t want a pussy prolapse…

Y/N: Wow, the ✨romance✨

Kate: No joke, I think imma marry this one.

Y/N: 🤣🤣🤣

Kate: Bitch I’m serious. You’ll see…

“They are going home together,” you mutter to Benedict as he puts his phone down.

“So I hear,” he raises his eyebrows with a twisted lip.

“What does it say about us that we thought they would be a good match for you and me? When it seems they were a much better match for each other?” You ponder aloud, almost vulnerable in tone.

“Shut up and drink your wine,” he grumbles.

That is an entirely fair suggestion.

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @Mlovesbridgerton @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @jeanfreau

[importantgalaxyrunaway]

Chapter 3 - sallie house

AUTHORS NOTE :Y/n’s pronouns are she/her btw also in this fic it’s just you, and it’s not going to be super accurate but I’m going to try. I want this sorry to be more about y/n and Colby. Also it’s just Sam, Colby, u, and Seth in this and I’m going to deviate from the story in the video a bit bits in general they are still in the sallie house

CONTENTS: HUGE Y/N LORE DROP, fluff, lime

when we got there we met up with Seth and this medium called the black pendulum and the black pendulum holder (lol. When we get in the house I can already feel a negative presence around me. We see a portrait of a creepy looking little girl. “when we got there we met up with Seth and this medium called the black pendulum and the black pendulum holder (lol. When we get in the house I can already feel a negative presence around me. We see a portrait of a creepy looking little girl.

“this is what she would have looked like” Colby said pointing to her with his hand

We all sat down on the couch to listen to the history about the sallie house

as I looked around I got a weird feeling about this house, like a ghost was trying to reach out to me. Ever since I could remember I could feel a connection with ghosts more than anyone in my family. Except for my grandma. My grandma was an imagrant from Ireland and was always strange compared to the rest of my family. She could communicate and feel ghosts. Many people thought she was a witch. Witch she basically was. But a good one she would help heal people with her homemade remedies from her exotic garden. She had more crystals than I could count. Ever since I was little she took a shine to me she would always say

“y/n your different from this family. your just like me, Your gifted. You will be the one that carries on my legacy”

she was the only one in the family who really understood me. Before she died she gave me a necklace with a big quartz crystal on it. She said,

“ y/n I know I don’t have much time left on this earth. But I also know that you are going to face many problems in your life. This is because your gifted like me and they will seek you out. So please y/n take this necklace. I have said a spell over it to protect you. This way once I die my soul will still protect you or your loved ones in some way”

I touched my crystal necklace as I always do when I’m thinking but stopped zoning out and listened. They were talking about how the ghosts in this house like to leave deep scratches on men witch made my heart sink.

after they finished talking I ask if I could borrow Colby for a second I walked into the next room where we were alone together.

“what’s this about? We gonna make out or something?” He said jokingly

“Not exactly” I said with a faint smile “ I came to give you this” I said taking off my necklace my grandma gave to me “my grandma put a protection spell over it. So no one who wears this necklace can be touched by a ghost while there wearing it. These ghosts target men and I want you to be safe tonight” I put the necklace on him and my hands stayed behind his neck for a second.

“you would do that for me?” He said touching the necklace smiling

“I love you Colby of course I would do that”

he brought me in for a kiss. The kiss was long and passionate and grew rougher as time went on. His hands were roaming my back. The thing about Colby is he always wants to have his hands on me. But Sam called us back to the investigation. “God, can you two keep your hands of each other for 5 minutes” and we all laughed

AUTHORS NOTE: sorry this is a short chapter but I worked really hard on it thank you for reading please like I worked hard on this.

[justapoet]

these roads are changing me (but they all lead back to you)

She wanted to have it, the freedom to touch him and smother him and kiss him absolutely senseless. She wanted to know what it was like to be kissed by him, to be hugged as it meant something more, to bask in the feeling of waking up beside him knowing they belonged to each other. Annabeth wanted to belong to him. Desperately. Vocally. On purpose. She wanted to belong, but she didn't care about where in the world. But Annabeth found that she was stuck. Frozen in place and unable to make a coherent thought.

read on Ao3

chapter 1: to those who ask

chapter 2: to whose who wait

chapter 3: to those who gaze

chapter 4: to those who left

chapter 5: to those who went so far away

chapter 6: to those who remain

chapter 7: to those who never saw me

chapter 8: to those who said they would stay

chapter 9: to those left behind

to the love of my life

Annabeth Chase fell in love with Percy Jackson on an ordinary night, when the moon hid and the stars weren't strong enough to shine through the city lights.

She fell in love with him on a summer day, when the Sun wanted the world to see its brightness and the water reached the shore a little higher than the day before.

She fell in love with him at a cramped up apartment, with books and papers scattered all around as she tried again and again to draw the same line of a project she was never satisfied with, and he ordered take-out because she'd forgotten to eat.

She fell in love with him on a winter day when his face was pink and cold, and she didn't put on gloves just to press her fingers against his cheeks and feel the smile that would always spread on his face.

She fell in love with him in Spring, when being stung by a bee made him ignore his aching arm to bury the little insect under the flower he'd allegedly stolen from it.

She fell in love with him in Autumn, when he'd asked her for pictures with a scarf that resembled a song Juniper and Grover loved to sing along to, despite its full ten minutes of extension.

She fell in love with him when it was warm, and the cabin on Montauk had been cleaned three times so she wouldn't fear getting mugged by a spider.

She fell in love with him when it was cold, and he had done his best to fight his fever-induced sleepiness so they could watch Sandra Bullock falling in love with Ryan Reynolds because Annabeth just had felt the need to believe in love again.

She fell in love with him when it was rainy and the flowers she'd gotten him were a bit crumpled by the water's aggressive falling from the sky, but he cradled them with such care it made her wonder why she'd never gotten him any flowers before.

She fell in love with him when his smile was bright enough to light up the whole town the moment he'd spotted her with his swim-team cap and a huge hand-made sign over her head with a really abstract drawing (made mostly by Estelle) of him with a fish-tail.

She fell in love with him in the silence after she'd run from home again, and found herself cradled in his and Sally's arms.

She fell in love with him in August, when his eyes would always tear up at the sight of another home-baked blue cake she got progressively better at.

She fell in love with him in the loudness of the book-launch party they'd thrown in Sally's honor for her first book.

She fell in love with him in April, when he showed up at her house with a highly unreliable blue ice-cream and a batch of brownies in his backpack, smiling blindly just because.

She fell in love with him on Sunday when the next morning already haunted her and he decided that there was no right or wrong time for ice cream.

She fell in love with him in May, when he hugged her over and over because of the surprise trip to the newest aquarium in the area.

She fell in love with him on Thursday when they picked a new place to visit and made written reviews to trade at the end of the night, and the company spot was always five stars (and a heart, when she got his paper).

She fell in love with him in September, when he shared with her his jelly after a nasty fall on a skateboard had landed him in the ER with a mild concussion.

She fell in love with him on Wednesday when he trusted her with the keys of his blue jeep and asked her to just drive as far as she could with the windows down and a random playlist blaring in their ears.

She fell in love with him in March, when, at two in the morning, he decided he had enough information on sharks to write a whole paper by her side, as she finished another project.

She fell in love with him in November, when his eyes lit up at the most hideous, terribly knit sweater she had made him just because she wanted to.

She fell in love with him in January, when she lost, over and over, the snowball war they'd waged in Paul's mother's backyard.

She fell in love with him on Friday when the week caught up to their shoulders and still there was always disposition for a batch of blue cookies.

She fell in love with him in June, when the twelfth was a reason for chocolate because somewhere in the south-hemisphere was celebrating Valentine’s Day.

She fell in love with him at ten in the morning, when he had spent the entire night playing something online with Jason and forgotten to sleep, and woken up with crumpled hair when she tossed a pillow at his head.

She fell in love with him in December, when there was no one in New York happier about Christmas lights and trees and terrible-looking hoodies.

She fell in love with him on Tuesday, when nothing really happened but she remembered, randomly around the clock, that he existed and was a real person walking around the surface of the Earth.

She fell in love with him at nine in the night, when there wasn’t a bad time to take a dive in the sea.

She fell in love with him in July when her birthday was a quiet matter with the brightest smiles and the most thoughtful gifts.

She fell in love with him in October and February when his eyes were kind and his touch was sweet as she cried her eyes out over stupid, stupid romantic movies.

She fell in love with him, and suddenly she wasn't afraid of heights.

She fell in love with him, and the ocean didn't seem such a big thing to compare anything to.

She fell in love with him, and wished she believed in an afterlife so she could see him again.

She fell in love with him, and suddenly rationality wasn't the answer to anything, anymore.

She fell in love with him.

And so it happened.

She fell in love with him.

She fell.

She fell.

She falls.

✉

"Where do you want to go from here?" Percy asked from the bedroom, and she could hear the way he — very violently, it's safe to note — dried his hair with a towel. A part of her wanted desperately to admonish his actions, because that was the last thing someone with such pretty curls for a hair should ever do, but Annabeth found that she was stuck.

Frozen in place and unable to make a coherent thought.

They had gotten to Venice two days before, and walked around the same parts of the city for as long as their feet could manage to bear their weight. Her phone, she was sure, would soon start overheating if they kept taking the amount of pictures they did — but she couldn’t help the need to register every single detail of every place and town and city their eyes scanned around them.

 It was an hour into being settled in the hotel before they had gotten on gondolas and just floated around the channels, chatting happily with the lovely man with the rows and silently thanking Nico for the forced Italian lessons he decided to give their group after Leo had forced them to learn Spanish. All throughout the day, Annabeth’s smile didn’t falter, unlike her heart, with Percy by her side, looking a lot like a child who'd gotten the best remote-control car ever for Christmas, absolutely thriving while being in a roadless, floating town.

His smile was blinding all throughout the day, and Annabeth's expression mirrored his — she couldn't help it. Percy's excitement left no other option but to join him in silly smiles and unrestrained laughter, none of them caring much when they laughed too loud and attracted confused pairs of eyes in their direction. The people were used, probably, to tourists at that point in living there.

And now, as the sun began to set on the third day they were on Italian soil, they had retired earlier just to share one lazy night together. The day had been warm, and they'd walked their fair share while touring shops and cafés and restaurants (because Percy had a mission while in Italy, and it was to leave with more pounds in weight than he had arrived with), and their sore legs were almost nothing compared to their sore cheeks at so many sights and sighs and pictures.

They were having lunch in a Google-recommended restaurant — that deserved the praise and recommendation, that was for sure — when Annabeth decided that she would do something about the butterflies in her stomach and the fluttering of her heart. Percy was laughing, and she was smiling, and she didn't know if she wanted to snap a picture of his face just to have it stored somewhere, the sight, or go on and take one of the beautiful arrangements of the plate because it was what they usually did.

She wanted to kiss him, too, when the dessert came and his eyes lit up at the mere sight of the waiter carrying the plate. She wanted to kiss him when he smiled, when he laughed, when his face got dirty because he had no manners when sweets were involved — she wanted to kiss him when he asked for another desert to take home, and when they got up and he tangled their arms together.

She wanted to kiss him and hug him and wrap her arms around him a little bit possessively when a gorgeous european lady was clearly hitting on him, and Percy didn't have a clue, because he had always been that way. She wanted to hold his hand and know it meant more to the both of them — she wanted it to mean more on purpose.

She wanted to have it, the freedom to touch him and smother him and kiss him absolutely senseless. She wanted to know what it was like to be kissed by him, to be hugged as it meant something more, to bask in the feeling of waking up beside him knowing they belonged to each other.

Annabeth wanted to belong to him. Desperately. Vocally. On purpose.

With purpose. Of spending her life loving him openly — clearly, in a way that Percy could see it, too, and know that it meant something.

She wanted to have that, to have him, anywhere they wandered to. Venice, Lille, Paris, Athens, Rome, Zurique, Lucerna, Lisbon, London, Lima, Rio, Brussels, Vienna, San Francisco, New York.

She wanted to belong, but she didn't care about where in the world.

And so, when they got back to the small apartment they were staying in, Annabeth had let him take a shower first, and headed straight to the folder that she kept safe and far on her backpack, taking out the last letter she had tucked in there. It was a bit more crumpled than the others, the amount of times she'd read it before and throughout their trip making it a little worse for wear — it wasn't a recent letter, though it had been one of the last ones she'd written.

She'd known who the letter was for from the beginning. But it took a while (a really long one) for her to admit it, to make it real on paper as well.

And as she walked back to the cozy living room, she could hear Percy's less than tuned sing-along to The Little Mermaid's live action's 'Wild Uncharted Waters'. Annabeth couldn't help but chuckle, smiling widely and shaking her head. 

Terrible for the neighbors. 

A blessing for her very, very unsteady heart.

A sudden wave of fear hit her, then, and Annabeth stopped moving, frozen on spot as if lightning had hit her and petrified her muscles. Her throat tightened, and she pressed her lips against each other as she swallowed dryly.

Those small blessings, those little moments they shared in the secrecy of their friendship, were far too precious for her to risk. Weren't they? To have him like that, carefree and comfortable and just so damn sweet, was worth risking?

Was it worth it, a heartbreak over the skipping beats she had lived with for so long?

And so, when Percy had gotten out of the shower and talked to her, Annabeth couldn't move.

She couldn't move, couldn't change the way she was sitting on the couch, cross-legged as her hands held carefully to the last piece of paper she had found among the things she didn't think she had kept. Her eyes darted carefully through all the nearly non-existent details over the folded sheet, the same she'd been staring at for a quite worrisome amount of time.

She knew, to some extent, and was confident that things would be perfectly fine after she'd given him the letter for his curious eyes to discover. Annabeth was perfectly sure, just as she was about most things she knew and learned and taught, that the outcome wasn't dangerous, whatever it was — they'd still be the two of them, and things would work out completely well. Not for her heart, perhaps, but she knew her soul wouldn't be torn apart, in the end.

Because, while the consequence of knowing Percy was to love him, the opposite also proved itself to be true. To love him is to know him — know all the smallest details of his face and expressions, of his gestures and the tone of his voice. She knew what to expect of his reactions, and what to never expect of his words and actions; she knew him. And had for a really long time.

Which made her overthinking and the hammering of her heart to be incredibly irrational, as well.

But, Annabeth supposed, it was inevitable when dealing with matters of the heart; the only few things she could never learn thoroughly despite her very best efforts, despite all her dedication. She could try to convince herself all she wanted, and Annabeth knew it would never worked as she'd planned it — she'd still get breathless upon the sight of him, still get heartbroken at his absence, and still fall over and over in love with the man she'd met so many times, in so many ways.

She hoped, secretly as she carried her feelings and truths, that she'd get the chance to meet him again — she hoped, and prayed, that she'd meet him in the middle.

"Like, I know we're not making plans and such, but do you have anywhere in mind?" he continued, his voice getting closer to where she was. His feet were bare against the flooring, and he had put the towel back in the bathroom at some point of her mind-turmoil. "South, or west, or staying here for longer?"

She didn't move or reply, and Annabeth could almost see with the back of her head as he stopped moving. She could picture the crease in between his eyebrows, and how he squinted his eyes in worry. She wanted to laugh. But she couldn't quite breathe as her lungs should.

It's Percy, she reminded herself. Your Percy. He deserves to know.

And she deserved to tell him, as well, and take this one leap of faith.

Because in her very core, she knew that she couldn't fall without him jumping and falling right after her.

"Annabeth?" Percy called. "Are you alright?" he asked, now rounding the couch and flopping by her side, his eyes concerned as he took in the scene — Annabeth, unmoving as stone, holding a piece of folded paper and eyes glued to it. She wasn't sure she was even blinking. "Wise Girl?" he called again, his voice low and even more concerned.

She inhaled sharply. As she exhaled, she closed her eyes.

"There's one more letter," she said, sober and only high enough that he could hear it. Percy's eyes, so bright while looking at her, had this worried expression not as well hidden as he thought it was. She turned his head to look at him, again. It made her as breathless as it always did. "That I've been keeping and carrying around, too."

Percy's smile was kind, his features softening.

"Oh?" he expressed, adjusting his position beside her so he could face her more easily. "Well, that's just perfect. One more thrill to look for. One more remittee to figure out," he smiled, and Annabeth felt her heart swelling in her chest.

Her smile, she was sure, was completely love drunk as she spoke again.

"Yeah," she agreed, and stretched out her arm to offer him the folded letter. "This one's a little more personal, though. Not that the others weren't, but—" she shrugged. "This one's a bit more," she settled with it. Her arm was still stretched out, and her hand was shaking a little. The uncertain rhythm of her heart might've been the cause, or just the anticipation for his reaction. Percy, forever careful and thoughtful as he was, sent her a look that asked her if she was sure she wanted him to read it.

She nodded.

It was high time she stopped running away from him. From them.

She didn't have the energy, the need, and much less the desire to keep pulling away.

Percy took the folded paper, and carefully opened it up, still looking at her face. Annabeth tried to smile in encouragement, but her mind was working overdrive, and it was hard to try to settle his feelings when hers were all over the place, over the letter, over them both. With one of his hands, Percy reached for her leg and squeezed it, assuring.

"Are you sure you want me to read it? We can figure out a receiver some other way," he asked, concerned at how private it was, and she shook her head.

"Not this one, we can't," she assured him. "I really want you to read it," Annabeth replied, trying to sound as honest and sure as she felt. Percy nodded, smiling again, and she really thought her heart would fly out of her chest through her ribs the moment his blue eyes looked down at the paper.

She watched his pupils and irises move as he took in the first line. The vocative. The one she'd changed, with a blue pen over the black ink, so many moons ago. The same blue she'd signed the letter with, contrary to all the others.

He stopped.

"Annabeth—" he tried, looking up at her with alarmed, wide blue eyes, and she didn't let him finish.

"Read it," she asked, and it sounded a lot like a plea. "Please."

She could see how he held his breath when he nodded. The tension over his shoulders when he looked back down at the paper. How he didn't dare to breathe as his eyes moved again.

Annabeth knew him too well not to notice, and her leg started to move in her anxiety as he took in each word written there. She knew them all, back to front. She'd read it, and reread it, and read it again just to be sure she had conveyed what she meant — she didn't, she couldn't, not really. There weren't enough words around the globe that could precisely make him make sense. The two of them, though? Even less.

She knew each word, and knew which parts took him longer to take in. The text was as familiar as the freckles over his nose and the feeling of her own hand in his. The words were as well-known as the whirlwind of his curls and the way his smile was so kind to her. Everything on that sheet was just as common, as familiar, as recognizable as the heartbeats inside her chest.

And as she waited, Annabeth couldn't help but go through the letter one more time, just to be sure. Just to be her — the overthinker she'd always been.

"To the love of my life, Percy Jackson,

read the rest on Ao3

[dandelion-blues]

Bittersweet Blood

About:

What if Loki was Sally Jackson? Thus, Percy is born a half-blood of two gods from differing patheons. It's time Loki and Percy took the Marvel Universe by storm.

First - Previous - Next Chapter

Chapter 2, Part 5: The Sea Protects

Triton looked deep in thought as he calmed down and finally looked up, “I don’t think the child needs to forgo their Norse heritage. The Greek and Norse worlds are vastly different, and knowing about the Norse side of things shouldn’t increase the child’s danger like it will if they know about the Greek side. Because even Greek gods' scent increases with their awareness, and there are plenty of monsters and gods who would take advantage of a young god.”

Triton adds, “In fact it would probably be more beneficial for the child to know about their Norse side sooner, so they can practice their powers and will be more than prepared to fight monsters and survive. Of course, only when they are old enough to properly handle a weapon.”

Loki smiles in awe. He wants his child to know their Norse heritage, for it to not just be some dirty secret. Loki is glad. It feels much better to just hide parts of his child’s heritage, not forever, just until they can learn to properly defend themselves, and later to learn their Greek heritage when it’s time to tell them when it’s time to accept their destiny.

Poseidon grins widely, “And that means I can still train our child how to use a trident and how to command the ocean and strategize. I’ll just have to pretend to be an Asgardian.”

‘That I can still be in their life.’ went unsaid, but Loki and Amphitrite heard it loud and clear.

“How will we explain our names, though, and powers? We can’t even risk any hint of Greek into the child’s life to keep them the safest? And will the child live on the surface?” Triton asks.

“Well, I think that would be for the best. I do quite want to continue living on the surface even if it is lovely down here.” Loki responds.

Loki continues, “Also, I am very familiar with changing names and appearance. In fact I have a current mortal identity known as Sally Jackson, and she, I, am quite proud of how well I was able to adjust to Mid-” Loki cuts himself on, remembering what Poseidon said about calling Earth Midgard, and clears his throat, “Human culture.”

Then, Loki’s face goes white. He just admitted that he was female sometimes, and oh Norns, would they be disgusted with him?

Except all he sees when he looks toward Amphitrite and Triton all he sees is interest, and is that adoration from Amphitrite.

Loki shakes his head, he knew he was overthinking, but still that fear of being judged doesn’t just go away. Even when he’s been accepted and supported by Poseidon and his friend Malia. It’s still hard to tell others and not assume the worst.

“Hmm, can you help us with that dear?” Amphitrite asks sweetly, her voice like honey.

Loki nods his head eagerly and confesses, “Sure, though the most important thing is to find appearances and names that you are comfortable with and connect to, especially if you’ll be using them for an unknown time. For instance, though I picked the name Sally and later the mortal last name Jackson on a whim, I connect with the name, and Sally is who I am when I’m female. Though I did recently add the middle name Sylvie, since she was the first name I chose when I was younger, and I still wanted her to be part of my name.”

Loki looks away, embarrassed and still a little scared.

But Amphitrite grabs Loki’s hand and smiles, “That sounds lovely dear, and I would love to see her sometime.”

Loki smiles back, ‘see her’, not ‘meet her’. Amphitrite distinguished that Loki was still the same person as Sally, but just female.

“Alright! We’ll have to talk some more later. It’s getting quite late, and I’m sure Loki wants to go to sleep in his own bed.” Poseidon states.

And wow, Loki is feeling quite tired now that he thinks about it, and nods in agreement.

Before they turn to leave, Amphitrite grabs Loki’s hand and asks, “Can I hug you?”

Loki looks bewildered, “Yes, but why?”

Amphitrite gently hugs Loki, her large mer body dwarfing Loki’s small frame, but it felt so nice and comforting.

“I just thought you needed one.” Amphitrite answers.

“Thanks.” Loki whispers to her.

“Goodbye Amphitrite and Triton, it was wonderful meeting you too, and we’ll meet again sometime soon.” Loki waves to his new friends? Family? Family, Loki decides.

“Goodbye my Βασίλισσα (“Queen”), and πολύτιμος γιος (“precious son”), I’ll see you again soon.” Poseidon tells his family.

“Goodbye father, and goodbye Loki.” Triton says, his face, bright gold in embarrassment.

“Goodbye my love, and make sure to keep Loki safe.” Amphitrite warns. “And see you soon υπέροχο σμαράγδι (“lovely emerald”).” Amphitrite whispers just to Loki.

Loki's face heats up bright red, and Amphitrite just grins sharply back.

Then, Loki grabs Poseidon’s hand, and he flashes them into Loki’s cabin.

Loki smiles, glad to be around back home. Home, huh, that feels right. And not too long afterward makes his way to bed, and drags Poseidon along and whispers in his ear, “Thank you for everything.”

“Of course my love.” Poseidon whispers back, just before the curtains of night fall upon Loki and he falls asleep.

Notes:

And that's the end of chapter 2! Hope you all enjoyed this fic and crossover. The rest will be posted on ao3 eventually.

Also, some things will be changed and edited before I post to ao3, so if you do eventually read it on there, please keep that in mind.

One such change I already made is that Percy will only be partially aware of his Norse heritage at first, not that Sally/Loki is a god.

First - Previous - Next Chapter

[hesbuckcompton-baby]

Better Off - Bernard DeMarco x OFC - Chapter 4

Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 |-| Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

AO3

Summary: Years before Susie's arrival at Thorpe Abbotts, one fateful loss changes the course of her life forever

Warnings: Grief, death, language, ANGST, dysfunctional family idk

Word Count: 2.9k

Tags: @xxluckystrike @latibvles @footprintsinthesxnd @mads-weasley @joyfulbookreviewmarvelspy

January, 1941

The church was quiet, rows of pews worn and bare. Sunlight flooded in through the tall, narrow windows, casting blocks of light against whitewashed walls, and the low, gentle chatter of guests in the doorway did nothing to rouse Susie from her daze, huddled at the furthest end of the front row of pews, tucked into the corner as if it would make her invisible. An old bible rested on the bench beside her, tattered and yellowed, and she ran her thumb across the blunted corners of the paper, never venturing far enough to open it, the words repulsive to her.

Her mother's voice always plucked itself from a crowd, that warm, Irish lilt in stark contrast against the rough, Mancunian drawl possessed by her children, as if they belonged to the city before they did her. She didn't bother listening in to the others' conversations - didn't try to distinguish the voices of strangers from those of her blood. None of them could have had anything even remotely interesting to say to her.

The pew creaked beside her, and Susie glanced up as Beatrice took her seat, leaving a few metres of separation between the pair of them. Three years her elder, her sister dressed head-to-toe in black, gloved hands clutching at her purse, hair curling neatly below her ears, immaculately done makeup obscured by the veil that hung in front of her face. Susie looked down at her own clothes - a white button down, an old brown skirt - it wasn't right, wasn't traditional or proper, but it was what she had.

"No husband?" She asked, a hint of an edge lacing her voice. Beatrice sucked in a long breath, chest heaving with the weight of it.

"No. He's busy."

"I bet he is."

Finally turning to look at her, venom in her gaze, Beatrice opened her mouth to speak, Susie already itching to interrupt her. But both fell silent, jaws snapping shut as another figure sat down in between them, a human barrier to prevent the inevitable spat before it could form.

"Always classy, girls," Sally huffed, newborn cradled in one arm, the other elbow propped up against the back of the pew as she kept an eye on her other son.

Beatrice sighed, posture relaxing as she let go of the offensive. No one questioned Sally - the eldest sister who had lifted them in her arms the way she now did her own children, who had wiped their tears and cleaned their scraped knees when their parents had been preoccupied. So much older and wiser than the rest of them, there was a removal there, as if she could no longer quite be considered their sister, their equal.

Susie shifted in her seat, wincing slightly as a dull ache shot through her thigh. She could feel Sally's gaze fixed on her. "Susie," She spoke gently, the infant in her arms gurgling away to itself. "How long have you been sitting here?"

"Four hours."

"Jesus Christ," Beatrice muttered, staring up at the altar, unable to tear her eye from the framed photo of Ellie that beamed back at them. They'd chosen a photo of her as a child - why had they done that? That wasn't the Ellie she'd pulled from the rubble the morning after the bombs had fallen. That wasn't the Ellie shut away inside the casket. She didn't remember her that way. Anyone who did wasn't welcome here in Susie's eyes.

A clatter of books against the stone floor sounded behind them as Sally's other son knocked over a pile of Bibles, guilt flushing his cheeks a bright red as the crowd gathered by the door turned to stare. With a quick summons from his mother, he scrambled to his seat, little feet dangling over the edge of the pew, hands fidgeting restlessly. She heaved a long, heavy sigh, unable to look at the altar for more than a few seconds at a time. "At least she's with dad now."

Susie hummed. She didn’t have the heart to tell her she didn’t believe in God anymore.

They were separated irreparably now. Even today, not everyone was here. Ronnie and Patrick were still away fighting overseas, and Nancy had been noisily sobbing in the back corner since she arrived, her son sitting awkwardly in the opposite pew waiting for it all to be over. The sound of footsteps along the aisle drew Susie's gaze, and something lifted within her.

"Owen," She breathed, jumping to her feet and bounding over to meet her big brother. His eyes were bloodshot, gaze jittery and unable to meet hers - but then again, he never had liked to look her in the eye. She didn't mind it. Her hand found his arm, pressing reassuringly against the sleeve of his uniform, adorned with the emblem of the RAF Medical Services. "Come sit down, yeah?"

"Is-... Is she in the box?" He asked quietly, nervously glancing at the pallbearers.

Susie frowned, brow drawn. "No," She lied. "No, Ellie's not in there. It's just tradition - what Ma wanted."

"Ok. Yeah, ok, I'll sit," Owen nodded, and she noticed the fresh tears soaking the cuff of his sleeve from where he'd wiped them away on his way in. She offered him the seat that had once been hers, letting him press his body into the wood at the end of the bench, shying away from the crowds, shoulder hunched to avoid brushing against hers. Owen had never quite been considered normal - Ronnie used to get into trouble for beating other boys up at school in defence of his little brother - but it had only meant he never minded that Susie wasn't quite normal either. There was a solidarity in that, a shared acceptance that they weren't how the world tried to shape them.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Everyone cried during the ceremony. Everyone except Susie.

A nauseating guilt swelled within her as her brother and sisters quietly wept at her sides, and she squeezed her eyes shut as tightly as she possibly could, willing a tear to fall, manifesting some sign of the grief within. What must they have thought of her? Her cold stare overseeing it all, flinching at every prayer. It was the perfect protestant funeral, the kind only their mother could have mustered.

She couldn't have left fast enough once it was all over, Owen's gentle grip on her cardigan using her as a guide through the crowds as they wormed their way through towards the door. Their house was a mere five doors down from the church, a looming presence throughout their childhood, a lingering reminder that someone was watching. But even in her home, she wasn't spared the misery.

Susie scarcely recognised half the people at Ellie's wake - crowding the kitchen, sitting in their chairs and lingering in the stairwell. What did any of them know - truly know - about her sister? Had they even had time to know her? Nineteen was too young to die. Too young for death to have any meaning. If the bombs had to kill someone, they should've killed Susie. At least then there'd have been some semblance of military strategy to it. No one won wars by slaughtering teenagers.

There was an empty cup in her hand as she sat at the kitchen table. She couldn't remember what had been in it. Upon the stove, the kettle was boiling, splitting the din of chatter with its unrelenting squeal. She squeezed the glass so tight she worried it might shatter, knuckles turning white with the pressure. Her mother passed behind her, absent-mindedly stroking her hair, warm palm skimming against her scalp. She wanted it to stay, wanted to lean back into it, but it was gone as soon as it came. Susie pushed her chair out, the legs screeching across the floor, bumping into a man she'd never met as she stood up, shouldering her way to the door.

It was almost silent in the attic, layers of brick and wood muffling the sound of voices. Laying back on her bed, she stared up at the roofing beams, the lingering smell of Ellie's perfume permeating the bedsheets. From the day she'd been old enough to leave the crib they'd shared this bed, shunting Patrick onto the narrow one in the corner - this was the girls' space, the floral quilts a private temple where only they existed. Lying on her side of it now, it felt uneven, like the whole thing would lose balance and tip over sideways, Ellie's presence necessary to its survival. Or maybe she was just necessary for Susie's.

Dust floated on the air, catching the light that flowed in through a leak in the ceiling. Her hand rested on the other side of the bed, the vague imprint of Ellie's body still engraved into the old mattress. It needed replacing years ago, but suddenly it was invaluable. On Christmas Eve night, the night after she'd died, Susie had stayed up all through the dark, lying in the impression of her sister, terrified it would lose her outline if she just left it there. But it never did.

The house had never been so full and so empty. Her brothers were aiding the war effort, billeted all over the place. Her sisters had all gotten married - found their own homes to raise their own children. She and Ellie had stayed up here in their attic, tucked beneath the covers like little girls again.

A creak on the stairs ripped her from her trance, her mother's head peering up through the trap door.

"I didn't know you were up here."

"That's ok."

Each floorboard let out an agonised creak as she crossed them, hands folded nervously at her front. Freshly forty years old, she looked at least a decade older, heavy bags of exhaustion tugging down on her eyelids. She wore the only black dress she owned, spotted with white polka dots, a stubborn coffee stain browning the hem where she could never quite scrub it away. The bed rocked towards Ellie's side as she climbed beneath the sheets, laying down in the space she had once owned.

All at once she seemed a child, tugging the blankets up to her chin, eyes squeezed shut as if willing sleep to claim her. She turned into Susie's side, pulling in a long breath. She wondered if she could smell Ellie here too.

"Can I sleep here tonight?" She asked meekly, like a girl begging her parents after a nightmare.

Susie's head lolled to the side, brow furrowed as she looked over at her. "Yeah, sure Ma. I'll go downstairs."

"Please don't."

It was silent for a while. Then the rustling of sheets sounded as Susie turned onto her side facing away from her mother, unable to bear staring at her for too long. She scarcely knew the woman lying next to her. She could count on one hand the number of times she'd climbed the steps to read them to sleep up here. Long gone were the days when Susie wished she would, but her absence could still be read in the room - in the drawings on the walls that no one had ever been scolded for, that no one had ever tried covering up because no one ever came to see them. This was their own little world, and she wasn't sure she wanted her mother up here at all.

"I'm sorry if I was a bad Ma," She spoke, voice muffled slightly by the pillow.

Susie took a deep breath, shoulders rising and falling with it. "You tried."

If nothing else, she knew that was true. Her mother had tried. She'd made half a dozen breakfasts with a baby on one hip. She'd read every report card and double-checked their homework when she managed to understand it. She'd stifled the pain of becoming a widow to tend to the pain of a bumped head or bruised elbow.

But she'd also let them go to bed hungry. She'd lied to their schools about their birthdays so they could drop out before their time. She'd been too poor and had too many children, and Susie wasn't sure she'd ever forgive her for it.

She needed to leave this house. The prospect of sleeping alone in this bed was worse than any other fate she could imagine. Already she could feel herself sticking - if she didn't tear herself away now she never would. Could she truly face driving past the wreckage of the factories every day on her way to Ridgeway? It would take months to rebuild. Months of remembering the moment she'd see her face, blood streaking through the brick dust, eyes half open and unseeing.

"Get some sleep. I'll bring you up some tea when everyone's left," Susie muttered, peeling the sheets away from her body and climbing out of bed, rubbing her eyes with the balls of her palms.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Beatrice stood on the doorstep, a cloud of cigarette smoke wafting in front of her face as she watched a child play in the gutter outside the wash house across the yard. The four walls that encircled their court of back-to-backs had once been their entire world. She remembered it looking bigger than this. There were rumours they'd be knocking houses like these down soon - no one wanted to move into them, these dilapidated remnants of a time long passed.

The sound of feet scuffing against tile alerted her to Susie's presence, sliding into the doorway beside her, wordlessly extending her hand for a cigarette. Beatrice passed one to her, holding out a lighter, the pair exhaling puffs of smoke simultaneously.

Who were they to each other? Susie stared back at her sister and realised she didn't have any idea.

"Ellie always used to ask me what I wanted to be when I grew up," She mused, watching on as the child across the yard was hurried inside by its mother, casting them a sympathetic glance as she went.

"She asked everyone that."

"Yeah. But she asked me the most, 'cause I never had an answer."

"Do you have one now?"

"... Don't think so."

The war made dreams insignificant. Nothing was about how they wanted to live anymore, everything was about what others needed them to be.

Beatrice had long discarded her hat, its presence remembered in the halo of frizz it left behind around her scalp. "What did she want to be again?"

"It was a ballerina for a while, then a painter I think. Or a writer. Might've been both."

"Don't forget when she wanted to be a scientist."

"Of course. And a pilot."

They'd begun to smile. When it had happened, she couldn't recall. But Ellie's mind had always been so far away, so filled to burst with a million dreams and ideas and fantasies that no one had any clue what she would go on to do. In the end, she did nothing. She had wished to change the world, and she had died on the floor of a textile mill.

A man in uniform came down the alleyway into the yard, hands folded politely behind his back as he approached the house. His gaze was fixed on Beatrice, as if Susie wasn't there at all.

"Car for you, ma'am."

"Thanks," She nodded, stomping her cigarette butt out on the front step. Taking a few steps away from the house, she turned, letting out a sigh as she fumbled with her purse. "Let Mum know I've gone, yeah? And Nancy."

"You're not staying for dinner?"

For a moment a look of shock flashed across her sister's face, as if appalled she'd even ask. "No. I need to be back in London by the time William gets home."

"Why? Not like you cook or anything."

Beatrice stared at her for a moment, grip on her bag tightening. "Mind your business, Susie."

Susie flicked her cigarette into the puddle at her sister's feet, the door closing on her with a slam. As she came inside, Nancy reached the bottom of the stairs, glancing out of the window behind her.

"Beatrice left?"

"Fucking bitch," She muttered, dragging one of the chairs away from the table to sit down.

"Don't say that."

"Fine. I love it when she comes up here in her fancy car to grace us with her condescending presence and remind us all that she doesn't have to be poor anymore."

Nancy gnawed at the inside of her cheek, wordlessly refilling the kettle and placing it on the stovetop. Her eyes were still red, and Susie suspected she'd gone upstairs to cry again. She'd always been the sensitive one of the bunch.

"I'm moving out," She said, the words seeming to echo back to her in the tiny kitchen.

"... Alright." Nancy nodded, something tight in her tone, as if she'd spoken through clenched teeth. "... Where will you go?"

"I was looking at Norfolk. There's some positions open down there, I could actually get promoted."

"That's a long way."

"... Yeah, Nance."

That's the fucking point.

[tstwitterupdates]

TS tweet 10/8/23

Hey kiddos! In lieu of a sketch video this week, Patton will be working back up the courage to play CHAPTER 2 of Sally Face on YouTube Public Livestream tomorrow at 5:30PM ET! Hope to see you all there!! 🩵💻

[internallyinarticulate]

Sally Face lore from the Sally Face: Strange Nightmares Kickstarter

I haven’t seen anyone do this yet (as far as I can tell!) and I’ve always admired the sally face community. With how lovely the community continues to be and with the revitalization it’s been given due to the sally face kickstarter; I’ve decided to come out of my shell and give back to the community I admire! I’ve gone through every single scrap of info through the entirety of the kickstarter (streams, lore given to backers, and some questions he answered on twitter!) to put all the lore revealed by Steve Gabry himself into one place for everyone to use however they wish! If anyone would like to watch the streams then please go to:

Beneeta_K (Twitch Streamer)’s 2 streams they did with Steve Gabry:

https://www.twitch.tv/videos/1739974869  (Where they play the board game from the kickstarter)

https://www.twitch.tv/videos/1752120791  (The kick off Q&A they did at the start of the kickstarter)

And the 4 streams on Steve Gabry (Portable Moose)’s youtube channel will be located under the ‘Live’ tab. Here’s a link to his channel: https://www.youtube.com/@PortableMoose/streams

This is made with love from a sally face fan who’s been around since chapter one came out all those years ago, thanks for making such a wonderful game Steve! I hope you all enjoy! <3 (Sorry it's so late!)

Pink is Steve Gabry answering questions and Black is the Questions!

-THE STREAM LORE-       (in no particular order)

:Q: “Are any of the gang in a band?”

A: “They tried to start a band together at some point, but they didn't do much with that.”

Q: “What instrument does each character play?”

A: “Sal plays the guitar, Todd plays the keyboard,Larry plays the drums, Ash sings and plays bass.” Steve at the end says, ‘By the way, I didn’t say they play well. They loved it though.’

Q: “What kind of music did the band make and what were they named?”

A: “They would have played grunge rock with a 90’s vibe with the keyboard.” 

(Steve says in the stream that they did not pick a band name, he would imagine that they would have a long piece of paper with a lot of band names on them, some crossed out some not, but they wouldn’t have been able to pick one lol.)

Q: “What song would Sal absolutely love?”

A: “Before he met Larry, he was mostly into rock, grunge, and punk, And then when he met Larry he started really getting into metal.”

Q: “What is Sal's favorite baked good?”

A: “You know what, let’s make it cinnamon rolls.”

Q: “Is Gizmo okay?”

A: “Gizmo is fine, he’s doing good.”

Q: “What is the story about the homeless man on floor 5?”

A: “Well he’s a man, he is homeless, he is on floor 5, sometimes he’s not on floor 5; how ‘bout that?”

Q: “Who was the intended person for Travis’s note?”

A: “I’ve answered this question many times, but people don’t like the answer, so they keep asking. So the answer is, I have someone in mind, but I purposely left it open for you guys to think about who you want it to be.”

Q: “What is Sal’s ideal date night?”

A: “Having a date.”

A: “I think he would enjoy doing something in nature, he would also enjoy just going to see a horror movie, playing video games, going to a concert, something like that.” 

Q: “What is Larry’s ideal date?”

A: “Definitely listening to metal, in some form, going to a metal concert, getting some pizza.”

Q: “What is Travis’s ideal date?”

A: “I feel like getting far away from Nockfell and doing something outside the city, getting away from his parents and school. Just a place where he doesn’t have to be around people he knows.”  

Q: “What is Ashley’s ideal date?”

A: “She probably would like to go to an art museum or some sort of art exhibit or maybe going to see a play.”

Q: “Todd’s ideal date?”

A: “Definitely going to some sort of science center, going to see some kind of new technology, some educational thing you would enjoy doing or going to a paranormal convention.”

Q: “Did the four horsemen have sleepovers?”

A: “Oh yeah, 100%, all the time.”

Q:“What is the story between Janice and Ray?”

A: “They’re Todd’s parents, they are a little bit ‘burned out’, you know? They’re very loving, open-minded, and kind hearted. They’re a little bit ‘burned out’, they’re spacy, Janice is a little more ‘burned out’ than Ray you may have noticed. She gets ‘burned out’ and forgets what she’s talking about a lot.”

Q: “Is Ash emo?”

A: “No, I mean you have to remember when they're in high school it’s like the 90’s it wasn’t really, you know… there’s Daria hahaha.”

Q: “If Travis survived from the hole,what do you think he’d be up too?”

A: “What do you think he’d be up to?”  

Q: “What are the kiddo’s favorite colors?”

A: “Sal’s is blue or pink, Larry is red or black, Ash is purple, Todd is green, Travis likes black.”

Q: “Why did Jim’s puzzlebox turn into a rubix cube?”

A: “Why did that happen?”

Q: “Where did Gizmo get all those stickers from?”

A: “Where does anyone get stickers from?”

Q: “Is Gizmo a salmon guy or chicken guy?”

A: “He loves both, Gizmo just likes to eat.”

Q: “What is Larry’s love language?”

A: “Larry’s is physical touch.”

Q: “What is Sal’s love language?”

A: “Sal’s love language is definitely quality time.”

Q: “Does Sal have a game cube?”

A: “Yeah, he has a game cube.”

Q: “What flavor is Addison Tea?”

A: “It’s Addison flavor.”

Q: “What is the vending machine’s love language?”

A: “Physical touch.”

Q: “What is the homeless guy on floor 5’ love language?”

A: “Here’s the thing with the homeless guy, before it would have been giving gifts, before the way he is now.”

Q: “How often does Travis cry?”

A: “I think he probably cries frequently but secretly and intensely.”

Q: “Is Todd autistic?”

A: “You know he might be on the spectrum, he’s very socially allowed and very blunt. He doesn’t have a lot of social cases.”

Q: “What was Todd and Neil’s first date?”

A: “They met in the library, their first date, probably would have just been going for a walk somewhere and talking.”

~Backer Bonus Lore Given~

-Waiting for Chocolate: In episode two, chug is downstairs waiting for the vending machine guy to come and refill it with delicious snacks. He usually comes every other Saturday and Chug is always there to greet him. However, this time, the vendor does not show up. I originally had a side story planned about the vending machine guy going missing and Chug being very concerned about that. Even though that story didn't make it into the game, the detail is still there. The vending machine guy is gone and his machine remains empty for the rest of the game.

-The Open Road: Ash's dad, Adam Campbell, was a mechanic and always had some project going on in the garage. One of his prized possessions was eventually passed down to Ashley, once she was old enough. It was something she had her eye on for a long time: his motorcycle. Adam even taught Ash to to ride at a young age. So she was already comfortable riding it by the time she was legally allowed to. It became second nature to her. Sometimes she goes out riding, just to clear her head. Ash loves the freedom of the open road.

-Nutmeg: Grieving Mrs.Gibson recives an unwanted gift from a relative. It's a little brown rabbit. Somehow this animal is meant to fill the hole left by her late husband. The rabbit was seen as a burden to Mrs.Gibson, just another thing to take care of. She was too old for this. She didn't even bother to name it at first. Then, slowly, she found herself growing attached to the little critter. When the rabbit was one year old, Gibson made a special meal for her and finally gave her a name. She decided to call her Nutmeg. A nickname that Gibson's husband used to call her.

-Twitter Spontaneous AMA-

Q: Did Travis know about the Devourers of God and Kenneth's involvement in it, or was he kept in the dark about it until he joined?

A: He didn't know when he was younger.

Q: Did the characters come first or were they designed after you came up with the concept for the game?

A: Sal came first, then Larry with the basic idea, then the story and other characters came at the same time.

Q: Two very important questions: Would you consider making it possible to pet gizmo in sally face two (if he's still alive) and do you have this wedding photograph in higher quality?

A: Maybe! And it was drawn at that small scale, so this is the in-game asset is as high res as it gets-

Q: When is the next video game coming?

A: I'm HOPING to release a small project with Wither Studios (nothing SF related) MAYBE towards the end of this year. These things are very hard to predict in advance. Which is why games are always being delayed. So I try not to make promises until I know for sure.

Q: Will we get the $250k stretch goal on the Kickstarter even if we don't reach it?

A: I think we'll definitely pass that goal (The goal at the end was $306,947!)

Q: Is Sal legally allowed to drive since he is missing an eye?

A: Yes!

Q: Did you write and sing all of the Sanity's Fall songs?

A: Yeah, I did all the music including everything for the SF songs.

Q: What program did you use to make the sally face art?

A: I used Photoshop and a Wacom drawing tablet.

Q: Why were Chug and Soda dull when cleansing the apartment?

A: You can actually find this answer in the game! If you play close attention during that part.

Q: 1) Why does Sal grab his pigtails in Packerton's apartment when he thinks they're about to get caught? Is that something he does for comfort? 2) When did Sal first start expressing himself with his hair, and what did Henry initially think?

A: 1) It's a nervous response. Just like someone may cover their face or mouth when scared. 2) Once his mom die, he let his hair grow out. Soon after it got long enough, he started with the pigtails. Henry thought it was a little odd at first but was fine with it.

Q: Did it ever cross your mind to add voice acting to the game? Recently watched Featherfall studio's fan-dub and the game looks even more interesting with voices.

A: It's something that I've thought about but I would be SO picky about getting the right voices. So idk. Plus it'd be a big pain to add retroactively. Maybe more likely in the second game, if I decide to add voices.

Q: We know Travis and Todd are gay, but what about the other characters? Do you have any idea?

A: I will say that Sal is purposely left ambiguous so that players can project their own feelings onto him. Though I have my own ideas about him too.

Q: What was your favorite part about developing Sally Face (Or making the board game)?

A: I love creating the world and seeing it come to life. It's also something truly special to see people connect with my work on an emotional level.

Q: One of my favorite Youtubers just finished the game, ad i was wondering when the second Sally Face is going to come out because it did say it'll be continued.

A: It's very early in development, so I don't have any timelines right now. If you're interested, I made a retrospective of the development history and some more insight here; https://youtu.be/JZPOx2jMLxE?si=r-N4mcDZC40MrtJr

Q: Is there a reason why Sal has long hair instead of short hair?

A: Because he likes it long.

Q: If I were to make a video playing the game Sally Face would you take down the video for copyright?

A: I'm always happy to see people playing Sally Face. I wouldn't copyright strike any content creators for playing or streaming the game.

Q: Why were there so many empty letters addressed to Sal?

A: They may not be so empty after all.

Q: What's in Addison's Tea?

A: You don't wanna know.

Q: Is Lisa Johnson a Latina?

A: Her family is mostly from Spain and Italy.

Q: Do you think some people would actually believe Sal on trail since it was close to the satanic panic era, or the satanic panic era was already dead then?

A: There might be some people out there who believe him.

Q: Are you planning on adding more official language translations into the game, and what ethnicity is Travis intended to be, if he has any?

A: I don't have any concrete plans right now, it just takes a lot of time and effort. But I'd like to add some more language support in the future, if possible. And Travis is multiracial.

Q: What are the SF character's favorite IRL songs?

A: Larry's favorite song is a Sanity's Fall on you haven't heard yet.

Q: How and when did Todd and Neil meet?

A: They met in the library.

Q: What was the idea behind different art styles in the game?

A: I've been obsessed with the idea of alternate realities since I was in high school (before all the cool kids were doing it lol) and for a long time I've wanted to make a game with multiple art styles, revolving around this idea of different realities.

Q: Since Lisa's family is from Spain, does Larry speak or know any Spanish?

A: He knows some but isn't fluent.

Q: Will the second part of the game be released in episodes like the first.

A: Still debating on this. I'm curious to see what fans think, I'll make poll! (He did create a poll, staggered episodes was what won the poll on twitter.)

Thank you very much for reading this post! Have a Great Day or Night!

[fragilecapric0rnn]

✨ Fic Writing Review 2023 ✨

Tagged by the wonderful @thefreakandthehair <3<3 thank you my friend!! I've been taking a lil ST break but BOY did I brainrot all over the place the first half of this year! I do plan on coming back to my loves later this month/beginning of next for a few exchanges buuuut here are my stats <3<3

Rules: Feel free to show whatever stats you have. Only want to show Ao3 stats? Rock on. Want to include some quantitative info instead of stats? Please do this. Want to change how yours is presented? Absolutely do that. Would rather eat glass than do this? Please don’t eat glass but don’t feel like you have to do this either.

Words and Fics

Published word count is 99,128 and unpublished word count is ABOUT 10k (might be lowballing it here lol)

2 published WIPs and 5 unpublished WIPs

10 fics published

1 finished multi-chapter fic [Cheerfic, my beloved]

2 multi-chapter fics published and in-progress

Top 10 5 Fics by Kudos (i only have 10 published so I will be just doing Top 5)

Faces Freedom With A Little Fear ; What if Steve had an older sister the whole time?

Catch Me (I'm Falling) ; Early 2000s College Cheerleading AU, Steddie + Wheelingham

Slowly, All at Once, Inevitably, Out of Nowhere. ; Steddie First Kiss Fic

one single thread of gold tied me to you ; Steddie re-meeting in the 90s future fic

Anyway, It's About Old Friends ; When Harry Met Sally, Canon Divergence Steddie Fic

My fandom fic events in 2023

Lex's Spicy Six Fanworks Challenges for Spring and Summer and will be posting Winter later this month/beginning of next month!

Upcoming Events and Projects for 2023

A friend fic exchange! (it's a surprise and BOY am I excited for it)

More installments of the FRIENDS AU

Finishing the last half of AIAOF

The unpublished Lumax installment of the AIAOF universe

The Nancy College Deferment Fic

probably a lot more 90s!Steve in every way possible

Finishing the already plotted out Ronance Political AU

No pressure tagging some friends

@fastcardotmp3 @judasofsuburbia @gothbat99 @hellsfireclub @kkpwnall @cheatghost

+ anyone who sees this and wants to participate! Just say I tagged ya <33

[captainkirkk]

I have some nice pjo recs for you (many crossovers bc I'm a sucker for those) :

the ship of theseus by zipadeea - i think one of the best pjo crossovers i've read (dcu/pjo) afaik it readable without having to read HoO. Absolutely heartwrenching.

the ship of theseus (14839 words) by zipadeea Chapters: 5/5 Fandom: Batman - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, Batman (Comics), Batman: Under the Red Hood (2010), <a href="https://archiveofourown.org

Baby Blofis College Fund also by zipadeea: very funny

Baby Blofis College Fund (2908 words) by zipadeea Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Paul Blofis/Sally Jackson, Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson, Sally Jackson/Poseidon (Percy Jackson), Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson Characters: Sally Jackson (Percy Jackson), Paul Blofis, Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase (Percy Jackson), Poseidon (Percy Jackson), Estelle Blofis Additional Tags: Humor, Fluff and Smut, Fluff and Humor, Family Feels, Pregnancy Series: Part 3 of how to co-parent your reckless demigod 101 Summary:

Valerie calls her an hour later.

“Sally, what the hell?”

“That bad, huh?”

“Bad? Sally, it’s gold. I went from squirming in my seat to crying genuine tears. And that twist, making him a Greek god, it’s exactly what we’re looking for right now. How soon can you get me the next chapter?”

***

In which Sally Jackson realizes by the time the new baby is eighteen, a semester of college will cost an arm and a leg. And those Fifty Shades of Grey books sure did make a lot of money.

glass figures by ahermioneh: epic marvel/pjo crossover that is partly responsible for me to actually get an ao3 account, deviates from pjo canon a lot but uses a lot of the world building

glass figures (211796 words) by ahermioneh Chapters: 36/36 Fandom: Marvel, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Clint Barton & Percy Jackson, Percy Jackson & Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Clint Barton & Percy Jackson & Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Minor or Background Relationship(s), Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson Characters: Percy Jackson, Clint Barton, Sally Jackson, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Phil Coulson, Annabeth Chase, Jason Grace, Paul Blofis, Steve Rogers, Most of The Ensemble from Both Universes Appear Additional Tags: the timeline is screwed to hell, demigod powers kick in in their twenties, clint is so young, Like, vaguely, Phil Coulson: Ace Recruiter, Nat is honestly so suspicious, Not graphic depictions of violence, but also like possibly, Year by year, POV First Person, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Pre-Canon, percy literally shows up to mess with MCU canon, Be Nice to Clint Barton, Canon-Typical Violence, does this count as, Childhood Friends, Spies & Secret Agents, Angst, full disclaimer: we haven't seen agents of shield at all, and we've barely read toa, Complete, just to be clear this is an incredibly self-indulgent crossover, Goode High School (Percy Jackson) Series: Part 1 of closing the cracks Summary:

I lifted my gun, pointing it towards the minefield of shattered fragments, and kicked the small coffee table out of the way.

Only to stare down at an awfully familiar face, which split into a somewhat lopsided grin. The intruder raised his hands in a mocking surrender. “Long time no see, dude.”

I lowered the gun. “What the hell are you doing in South Peru?”

Or in which Clint Barton and Percy Jackson have a long personal history that starts in high school.

The File (series) by denimbeans: Another epic (long) crossover series for marvel/pjo, very spoilery for HoO tho: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2375215

Nothing to make a song about but kings by iwilllpassthis: all the world building, all the politics. Also post-HoO

Nothing to make a song about but kings (201210 words) by iwillpassthis Chapters: 59/59 Fandom: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Amphitrite & Percy Jackson, Percy Jackson & Poseidon Characters: Percy Jackson, Amphitrite (Percy Jackson), Poseidon (Percy Jackson) Additional Tags: King!Percy, Undersea politcs, Merpeople, Atlantis, My boy truly has no idea what he's doing, Do I? We shall never know, Powerful Percy Jackson Summary: Percy knelt before Atlantis’ throne, feeling the ancient power of the sea run through his veins in an uncoordinated dance. You are the sea now, it whispered, and the sea is you. A crown of gold and emeralds was placed on his head. Long live the king. Long live the king. . It’s a fortune that Poseidon has a mortal son, because when an ancient curse hits his kingdom and all the sea gods disappear… well, someone must rule.

THANK YOU