#so i went into book and the ONLY interview left was ONE spot on wednesday the 15th of march

[garoujo]

omg i got an interview for a new job i applied for!!! eeeeeee i am nervous but also excited ૮꒰っ´༥`ς꒱

[cherry3point14]

Stranger Than Fanfiction: Ch 4

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Dean x Reader   Warnings: Like one big boy word. Criminal activity. Word count: 3,185. Chapter Summary: Staying late at work is usually nice and quiet. Usually. A/N: This chapter is so dumb but I love it a lot.

Ao3 if you prefer

Y/N would say that one of the perks of her job was getting out of the office from time to time. Sometimes a case required anything from a simple home interview to speaking to several family members over a number of days. She relished in the peace working away from inboxes and water cooler talk however, every once in a while she could find the same serenity in the uniform walls of her employment building. Today was one of those very days. Today she sat at her desk, alone, long past her colleagues' departure at five pm. The overhead lights were off and Y/N, whose fingers sped over the keyboard urgently, was lit only by the cool glow of her screen. 

“It’s not super peaceful when you won’t shut up.” As much as you fought becoming complacent to the voice in all honesty you were glad to have her back in some small way. You hadn’t heard her for days now, not since you started reading Supernatural. It’s only now that you’d finished, she was back to her usual tricks. Some ridiculous ten-minute lecture about you waking up late for work was your reunion this morning. While it was true that you were very late for work today—two hours to be precise—she didn’t once mention that it was because of your late-night finishing off Swan Song. 

That wasn’t too concerning. The voice ignoring your reading habits was minor in comparison to her being back at all. Her return meant your aneurysm hadn't been temporary and you were closer to one of two things. Solving the mystery of why Maggie Hall’s file was so important, or dying.

Obviously, option number one was preferable.

After an entire day of her, you have fallen completely into accepting that she's not going away anytime soon. For the most part, you have let her harp on like she’s looking for a book deal but now that you’re alone and trying to concentrate, you find yourself responding to her. For your own satisfaction of answering back.

She was feeling productive. Each word she wrote punctuated by the precise click of her fingers on the keyboard. A familiar sense of achievement swelled within her chest as she began to summarise her decision on the claim. Summaries are nothing more than detailed endings, which is why Y/N was particularly excited to be writing this one. More so than any other claim she had finished up before.

An ending was exactly what she was hoping for. The unusual situations she had found herself in over the last few days were too messy for even her to organize. Tangled up like a ball of string after being batted around by a cat. Logically then she was focusing on the only thing that made sense, tie up one loose end and the others would right themselves. Finish this piece of work and maybe she'd live.

How unfortunate then for Y/N that the universe did not look kindly upon her attempts to be orderly. How utterly unlucky that she had not guessed any of the answers correctly. Today was not fated to hold any happy endings for her. Not the closing of file twenty-four zero one, nor the reasonable explanations she had been searching for. 

Your fingers stutter to a stop. What the hell does she mean you weren’t closing this claim? You are ten minutes of proofreading away from pressing submit, you had stayed late to finish. At this point, it would take an act of God himself to stop you. 

That’s when you see a flash of light coming from reception. Flash is vague. A beam of light might be a better description, as in, the kind of beam emitted by a flashlight. Wait, there are two flashlights now. Oh shit. 

Suddenly you taste bile in your throat and your hands are clammy enough to be sticky. The voice said this case would kill you and now you’re sitting here working late, and she’s saying you weren’t going to close it and… and… is it going to happen now? You’d assumed it was something in the file that killed you but you’d also assumed you had more time. Really, truly, this could be it. Imminent death means about to happen, not will happen when it’s convenient for you. This is it, isn’t it? You’re about to be accidentally murdered in an office robbery because you stayed to work late. On that particular file. 

She was not prepared to die. Not while there still wasn’t a grey hair on her head or while she hadn’t been to the Grand Canyon. Y/N had no preparations for the end.

No. Not now. It couldn’t be. 

She had no will, no funeral plans, and no video message to her family about a series of clues leading to a great treasure. And on Wednesday night, early June with spring barely making way for summer was the last possible moment she would ever expect to meet her maker.

You want to hide but it’s impossible. Hiding would require you to have some control over your body. An impossible feat, while you're listening with bated breath to what you assume, is your last paragraph. 

Obviously, Y/N would not be dying tonight.

“Are you joking? How is that obvious?” You whisper into the dark, edging into frustration. Barely enjoying the relief of not dying when your narrator is toying with you. 

She still had a new life to begin. One which began and ended with two men that had left as quickly as she'd met them. Fate has a perverted sense of humor and had chosen to push her forward into the unknown. This is why these important men were breaking into her office at precisely that moment.

The footsteps of the intruders get closer. You don’t have a direct view of reception but you’d seen the flashlights on account of it being dark in here. They sound like they're near reception, maybe twenty seconds from coming in. Once they’re in the main part of the office then all they’d have to do is turn a little to their left and they’d spot you. In the corner hanging out. 

But it’s the guys breaking in? The cosplayers. They’re the wannabe Winchester’s who have turned to robbery to get their kicks? 

You don’t know if it's actually them, not really. Not until they do take those last steps into the room but you hear them before you see them. 

“Remind me why you haven't done some nerd computer thing to get this?”

“I already tried, remember? Their system says it’s still in process so none of the details are on their servers yet. And since we need to find out where the money went…”

“... we need to get the physical file. Got it.” Mystery man number one sighs before he continues, “S’no fun killing a monster if you don’t have to work for it.” 

A monster? It’s almost impressive how much these guys committed to whatever insane game they're playing. Almost being the keyword. These guys were genuinely crazy, and that was coming from someone with an unexplainable voice in her head. 

Y/N finally overcame the initial wave of fear that had hit her when the flashlights had cut through the darkness. She reached up and shut off the monitor on her desk, the last thing that had been lighting her up like a Christmas tree. Her laptop was still running in its dock, she had no intention of losing all her work. She only wanted to lose herself, hide, snuffing out the screen, and rolling her chair backward seemed to do the trick. She felt safer already. Her heartbeat returning to something akin to its normal steady rhythm now that she was cloaked in darkness. As soon as they were distracted she might even be able to risk slinking to the floor and hiding below her desk. It wasn’t a risk she was willing to take right now though, while they were still on high alert having just arrived.

You’re grateful that the voice is playing ball and giving you some useful information. It’s completely new, having so far only heard ominous foreshadowing and cryptic introductions, but it’s nice. Dare you say it, fun. For once in this whole ordeal, you actually feel like you’re in a story while you do exactly what she says. You sneak the smallest smile when you see their large shadows, finally step into the office. This might be where you have some luck on your side. 

“You check out the desks, I’ll go find the filing cabinets.” It’s pretty hard to make out with their backs to you but you’d wager it was the taller shadow that said that. 

The same bigger shadow starts walking towards the back of the office. He doesn’t know he’s heading towards the break room, although he probably thinks he has all night to figure it out. He can have all the time he wants as soon as you’re under your desk. Once you’re properly out of the way you look forward to not interrupting them as a stupid person might. You were perfectly ok with not being a hero.

Of course, she was not accustomed to the cat and mouse game of breaking and entering. Y/N was not used to dark corners and darker rooms. And since she hadn’t used one since the last time her power went out, she seemed to have forgotten how flashlights worked as well.

“What?” you splutter. Faith in the voice shattered in an instant. 

In the next second, you’re blinded by a light in your eyes, you reach up to block it out but as you do his voice booms out. “Sam! We got company.” 

The tall guy comes running and now there are two lights in your face.

“Do you think we could not blind me?” They start lowering their flashlights when the other shoe drops, “wait, Sam? You-you’re using the names too?” It shouldn’t shock you, they’re driving the car and wearing the flannel clearly, they’re adopting the names too. But until now you’d been able to compartmentalize the books you’d read and the men that drove around in a car with the Winchesters fictional license plate. 

Coming face to face with them she feels completely different now. The territory is hers; her office, her desk, her mug with her name on. The problem; this was not her game, it was theirs. Y/N was simply working late whereas they were more adept at the after-hours version of this story. She might think they were delusional but this wasn’t the first crime she had them on the hook for. She could only imagine the hundreds, if not thousands, of other illegal activities they had gotten away with, all to play pretend.

“Nobody was supposed to be here.” The guy pretending to be Sam says to the guy who you can only imagine is pretending to be Dean.

“Well, there she is anyway.” Wannabe Dean huffs, both angry and disappointed at the same time. “But hey, maybe this can speed everything along, no more looking around in the dark at least.”

They’re both very good at talking about you while simultaneously ignoring you. Neither of them even flinch when you get up out of your chair and walk over to the light switch.

The room flooded with light like any room would when a switch is flipped, however, this wasn’t any kitchen light switch. The office is a large space and the fluorescents required to illuminate it are industrial. It’s enough to pain anyone's eyes with how sharply their pupils contract. Unless you are the one pressing the switch in the first place. It was Y/N’s hand flipping the four switches required and so her eyes were closed in preparation. However the mystery men had been seconds from bickering so they jerk their heads as if trying to escape the inescapable, like it's the first time they've ever seen anything so bright. Y/N felt wholly better with the heat on her closed eyelids. Because she knew when she opened them the office would hers again, the control would be hers.

When you dare to look they both whip their heads to you, shocked that you’ve moved. You’ve managed to find an ounce of confidence in the light, or if you believe the voice in your head, a whole gallon. “I don’t know what game you’re playing pretending to be people, first at the house and now this. I didn’t tell anyone about this,” you motion a hand at where they're standing, “clearly that was my mistake. So, uh-just get out of here and I won’t say anything else about it.”

“Sweetheart, we ain’t playing games here and we ain’t leaving.” 

He steps towards you, a finger pointing to the floor to reiterate that he’s staying put. You wrongly assumed this would be as easy as it had been at Mrs. Halls when they'd run so quickly, forgetting that you'd had an audience there. 

“You are if you don’t want me to call down to security. I’m sure the cops would love a case like this—there’s an eyewitness!” 

Y/N would never in a million years be able to describe where the sudden anger that consumed her had come from. She was hardly an agitated person. She could be sad or sarcastic, she’d been known to give a measured but scathing comeback and some would even call her curious. That’s not to say she’d never been angry, she had, but anger was never the first thing she chose to be, or feel. It was always such a demanding emotion. So, then this agitation was almost foreign to her and the way it forced her hand, more so. 

“Maybe we should…” Not Sam starts before he’s interrupted. 

“No Sam. We need that file if we’re going to stop this thing and right now this is our only option.” He points at you now signaling that you are the ‘this’ part of his sentence; their only option. 

In another life, she might have rolled over rather than stare down the barrel of this argument. She might have seen the opportunity to get rid of them by giving them something small, like say confidential information, and done it without question. This was not her old life, nor the old Y/N. This was the new life she hadn’t realized was starting. The funny thing was she hadn’t needed to know. All she’d needed was this man in front of her to force her into a rage and as if by magic, she had begun to transform.

You push past fake Dean to make your way back to your desk, “that’s not happening. All client information is property of First National which means it isn’t mine to give. Not to mention the fact that you didn’t say please.”

Her shoulder connects with his and it's the exact moment she realizes how close he was standing to her. He realizes the same. He’s close enough to grab her and spin her around but Y/N's body shudders tellingly with his fingers pressing into the flesh of her forearm.

“I don’t know what kind of power trip you think you're on but..." He grits through his teeth still holding you.

“Dean, can you calm down?” 

The breaking point of your anger turns into a sardonic laugh aimed at him. “You too?” You pull your arm away and get back to your chair. “I can’t get normal criminals breaking in while I’m working late? It has to be two weirdos running around pretending to be the Winchesters.”

It’s clear immediately that you’ve said something neither of them was expecting. You’re sitting at your desk waiting for one of them to stop you from picking up the phone, while they don’t seem to even notice your hand is on the receiver. 

“How do you know that? I mean, how do you know about us?” The tall guy that you refuse to call Sam, even in your head, asks. 

Two pairs of eyes bore into you waiting for an answer and for some reason your hand goes lax on the phone. “I ran your plate from outside Mrs. Halls because you don’t work with me. And I found these books but I mean, why are you even driving around with fake plates from some books anyway?”

It was a simple question that you were hoping had a simple answer, you know, fanboys or something. Instead of any answer at all, they start having one of those lovely conversations that excludes your existence, again. 

“Goddamn son of a bitch, we’ve got to get rid of those things.” 

“Charlie said there’s no point now they’re online. How would we even start? Great example right here.” 

“So what? We just roll over and die?” 

Tall guy, not Sam, takes a reassuring step to fake Dean which means he takes a step away from you and your desk. “This might be a good thing ok, if she knows she can help us track it.” 

You refuse to believe it because it’s ridiculous. Those books are works of fiction and there’s no possible way they are real. Because if the books are true then that means monsters are… nope. You live alone so there’s definitely no way. But you should clarify. Even if it’s a thousand percent the most ridiculous thing you have ever heard, you should still double-check. 

“Are you trying to say that you’re actually Sam and Dean? Like, you think you’re Sam and Dean from the books?” 

It’s scarily-similar-to-the-description-of-Dean who leans in with both hands flat on your desk and growls. “Honey, we don’t think okay, we are them. I’m Dean and this is Sam, and those books you decided to read? Yeah, they’re about us.” 

“But that means monsters are…” 

“Real. Monsters, angels, and everything between.” 

She may not have known about the ticking clock already counting down the remaining seconds of her young life. She may mistakenly have thought that her newfound temper was the reason for her flushed cheeks. She did know one thing for sure. One completely life-changing fact with absolute certainty, because that fact was staring at her with more intensity than she'd ever known. A man named Dean Winchester just told her that every terrifying monster she could imagine was real. 

The voice in your head, unfortunately, had not been wrong yet.

Continue to Chapter 5.

5eva tags: @divadinag @darthdeziewok @fluentinfiction @witch-of-letters @supernatural-teamfreewillpage @magnitude101999 @alexwinchester23   Dean babes: @thewinchesterchronicles @akshi8278​ @bloodydaydreamer StrangerThanFiction tags: @jaylarkson

[jj-lynn21]

HOLLYWOOD MOBSTERS Starring Bill Skarsgard and his family ch 6

ch 1  ch 2 ch 3 ch 4 ch 5 ch 7

Warnings: violence discussed, cussing, angst, smut, fluff

Bunny’s bedroom dance: Love Me Like You Do 

Photos from esquire Singapore September 2019, Calvin Klein, IMDB and Ejalo’s Instagram 

Bunny shimmies out of Bill’s arms in the morning. She is getting her outfit back on when Bill wakes.

“You ok?” He asked as he sat up body drizzled with sweat from sleeping so close to her.

She tied the outfit around her neck looking at him acting all nonchalant, “Yeah, I’m cool. No big deal.”

Bill whines, “I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?  I just meant to make you feel good. But if you want to leave, I won’t stop you or anything.  Just…” He laid back down pulling the sheet over his head turning away. “Don’t tell Alex I fucked up again. He will kill me for hurting you. I can’t believe this wasn’t fucking real.” 

“What?” bunny looks over at him. When she sees Bill has buried himself, she goes to sit on the side of the bed. “Bill you made me feel things I never thought I would or could with a man but I thought you were just looking for a one night stand to make you feel better, feel something good.”

“I’m not fucking like that at all Bunny,” He cried under the sheet that shielded him. “But get the fuck out of here. I will get my own place soon enough. You do not ever have to see me again. Before Genna there were other women who I thought cared but fucked me and left. You are not the first and you probably will not be the last. You were fucking leaving so get the fuck out already.”

“Bill,” She rubbed his back though the sheet. “I haven’t even slept with anyone in ten years. I’m sorry, I didn’t believe you could possibly care for me. Look at me baby boy, please.”

Bill throws the sheet off and sits up to look at Bunny. His eyes red. “Don’t hurt me Mommy.” He touched her cheek.

She leans into his touch. “That’s a good boy. Mommy’s going to dance for you, okay?”

“I’d like that,” Bill smiled innocently. “Mommy can I kiss you before you dance for me.”

She nods. He moves in slowly as they close their eyes. His lips lightly brush over hers before staying for a long deep kiss. He pulls away. “I’m ready to watch you now Mommy.”

She gets up to go to the pole by the windows. Alex has a stripper pole in just about every room of the place. Girls, other than Bunny, have taken special clients to the bedrooms. It is an extra two-thousand-dollar fee but all have said they got their money’s worth and tipped the girls extra well for the evening. Bunny flips through the music on the phone and plays Love Me Like You Do  for her special routine for bill’s eyes only.  Bill gets out of bed completely naked to walk over to her when she is done. His arousal on display.

“Mommy can you help me now?” Bill looked shyly at her. He had a way of acting so innocent when he was looking less than innocent.”

“Oh, baby boy of course Mommy will always take good care of you when you are such a good boy.” She untied her outfit to let it fall off of her. “Just no more pouting or whiling or Mommy will have to discipline you.”

Bill nodding. He would pick another time to test what she would do to him. Bunny pushed him back towards the bed. He went willingly falling back when he felt it behind his legs. He watched with wide curious eyes as she straddled him. Bunny put his hands on her hip.  She gasped lowering herself to take in his manhood. Whimpering softly her hips rolled to find that spot he hit before. Bill bit his lip watching her as his thrusts pushed in deep.

“Can I touch you more Mommy,” Bill groaned.

“Yes,” Bunny whined.

Bill reached down to work her clit as she road him.

“Fuck, more.” She begged as she road him harder.

When they came together it was like a blessing. Bill held her close. They rested awhile, before Bill ordered Pizza and cloths for her. They showered together making love again before actually getting cleaned up.  She threw on a robe. Bill put jeans on to go get the things that should be at the back door. He comes back. Hands her a bag with a new dress and under garments.

Bill stripped his jeans off and got back in bed with a piece of pizza, “You can leave the cloth in the bag. I think its Naked Sunday.” He chuckles.

Bunny giggle as she slides off the robe. She crawls over to him going to take a bite of his pizza. He pulls it away. They are laughing when Alex is walking past the door.  He smiles at the match even though it means he can no longer tell her everything that has been on his mind this past week. He knocks.

“How’s everything going?” Alex teases as he listens to them scurry.

Bunny puts her robe back on. Bill slides on some boxers before answering the door.

“We’re fine Alex,” Bill leans on the open door.  “What’s up?”

“Can we talk in my office,” He smiles at Bunny. “I will just still him away few moments baby girl.”

“Its fine Daddy,” She giggles. “It will give me a chance to put some clean linens on the bed.”

Alex nods with a grin. Him and Bill walk down the hall.

“Its good to see you, happy brother,” Alex opens the door for Bill to step into the office before him. “But business does have to continue.”

“What do you need me to do Alex?” Bill crosses his arms over his bare chest.

“Gustaf is going to have to heal before working again.” Alex poured a scotch on the rocks. He raised it to Bill, “Drink?”

“No thank you,” Bill waves the offer off. “Do you need me to take his place?”

“Yes,” Alex takes a sip of his drink and walks to his desk to sit. “I know you haven’t worked for the family full time since you were fifteen, but we really need you now. Truth be told you were always a bit better at picking things up and dropping them off then Gustaf. He always wants to try to talk to are friends. You intimidate people more. Especially now. It’s a good trait little brother. I don’t even remember why you stopped helping.”

“Because it fucking sucks,” Bill mumbles. “I had other options Alex. I never thought I’d be back in this whole thing. I’m here now. I will help with what ever you need. Do I have to keep secrets from Bunny?”

Alex chuckles, “She knows everything. She’s good to talk to when things go sideways, isn’t she?”

“Yeah,” Bill blushes.

“Go on and get back to her,” Alex makes a shoo shoo motion with his hand. “Just don’t do anything that makes her want to go against the family. I don’t want to deal with that sort of problem again.”

“What do you mean again?” Bill looked at his brother curiously.

“Nothing,” Alex put his feet up on his desk. “I’m interviewing a possible new girl in a few minutes, Go have your fun with Bunny. Tuesday night you have a job to do.”

Bill nods and heads out. He crosses paths with small nervous looking blonde. He smiles, “break a leg.”

She smiles, “Thanks.”

Bunny and Bill spend the day in bed talking, eating, and having minding blowing sex in her opinion. It is extremely good in his mind. He teaches her some diffident positions that she never thought she would enjoy. He has her toes curling time and time again until he needs to carry her to the bathroom to clean up.

“I better be able to work by Wednesday night,” She laughs.

“We can take a break on Tuesday,” Bill grins.

On Tuesday after he is off work, they decide Bill will move into her loft apartment. They had already been caught naked running after each other in the club by Alex when they thought no one was there. He just suggested they be at least partially dressed when out of the bedroom.  

Alex starts sending Bill on runs since Gustaf cannot do it. Everything goes smoother than his first time. Word got around Bill killed all the guys at his first run, so they feared him. The Thomas Family representative just dropped the cash in front of Bill and backed away slowly. Bill grabbed the cash and dropped the products at their bar. Same as he did with Gustaf. He kept the money and cleaned it at his bank the next morning. Bill had gone from not wanting to be apart of the family business at all to doing a shit load of dirty work out of guilt mostly.

Valter’s graduation party was held at the main family home. Angel was by his side stuck to him like glue until Alex needed a private word with him. By that time, she felt comfortable sitting with Eija, Bunny, and Bill. She really wanted to get to know Bunny so maybe she could be a dancer at the club when She moved to Hollywood for Valter. It was perfect timing since two dancers had decided to move on when they were married and only one new dancer was hired. Valter and her were planning to move into Bill’s old place.

Valter grabs a note pad and pen from Alex’s desk as Alex starts to speak.

“We are all so proud you little brother,” Alex gushed

Valter wrote on the paper BUG ON MY CHEST, “Thanks Alex. I worked hard. I’m ready to help the family out how every you need me.”

Alex nods, “I would still like you to work the bar if you would like that. It would entail you balancing the books for that part of the club. You would distribute the tips from the bar tip jar to the girls at the end of the night also. Do you think you could handle that?”

“I could do that. Angel still wants to be a dancer.” Valter writes THEY TOLD ME TO ASK YOU THIS NEXT THIS, “Is there anything more you would like me to do involving other business?”                                                                                                                                                                                                                “Angel can try out as soon as the two of you get settled,” Alex nodded his understanding. “Bill is going to be our delivery man of coca cola to the other bars. As long as the other bars don’t try to bully our family to join them in less legal activities. The Malforals are not happy we refused to do all the things they want our club to be involved in. They pretty much admitted to your brother what happened to his girl was their doing. To tell you the truth I would rather not do business them, but I fear we have to so no one else is hurt.”

Alex was willing to sell out the Malforals. Maybe get rid of them for good if the F.B.I. busted into their club and killed or arrested all of them. He knew they would not get taken in without a fight. It would be good enough pay back for trying to kill Bill and Gustaf.

“Probably a smart idea,” Valter said uncomfortably.

“I have some paperwork for you and I to go over since you will be taken over as head bar tender,” Alex takes the paperwork out of the desk for Valter to sign.

Gustaf and Stellan come in from a walk.

Bill stand with Bunny to introduce her. “Papa this is Bunny Nisson.”

“Nice to meet you Mr. Skarsgard,” She smiles politely.

Stellan looks a little caught off guard for a moment. Then smiles, “Well isn’t this kismet. I knew your Father Miss Bunny. You and Bill use to play in one of those tot cages your mom liked to use while the adults had tea.” He chuckles. “You’re a very lovely woman. Are you Keeping Bill out of trouble?”

“I’m trying,” She giggled

Alex and Valter walked out of the office.

“Excuse me kids,” Stellan nodded. “I need to speak with Alex. He motioned for Alex to follow him outside.

Bill teases Bunny, “I knew you looked farmilar when I saw you.”

“Yeah,” Bunny giggled, “you seriously remember playing in a playpen with me when we were babies.”

to be continued...

[artificialqueens]

The Goode Case, 13/14 (Jaida/Jan) - Juno

Chapter summary: With the Goode Case finally closing, all that is left is for Jaida to do is survive the interview into what happened, and find out if Jan ever wants to see her again.

(A/N: So we’re nearly at the end now! Thank you all so much for all your support. Here is part thirteen. I hope you enjoy!)

Wednesday 1stNovember

5.54PM

They’d spent most of the day in separate interviews, needing to keep away from each other as was custom, to confirm their stories were all straight. Jaida had had to keep away from Brita and Jackie while they went between interviews, around the building; even taking separate lunches – Jaida going at twelve. Jaida had missed her teammates more than she could put into words. It had surprised her, really, how much closer she’d grown to Jackie and Brita in the last four days, but spending the day without them felt like losing a leg.  

The only person she’d spotted in passing was Crystal, as she’d walked past the window of the café she’d gone to for lunch. Crystal hadn’t seen Jaida, but Jaida knew she was only in the area for the interview; and thinking about it, Crystal probably had the most information to give out of the eight of them who were there yesterday.

Between the eight of them that had been there – three detectives, four members of public, and of course the victim’s statement from hospital – it sounded like the volume of stories would corroborate with each other. No matter how far fetched the story itself sounded.

At four thirty, interview process was done.

Jaida had entered their usual meeting room, finding Brita and Jackie had arrived before her, and were sat side by side, their arms linked, Jackie resting her head on Brita’s right shoulder; but neither of them looked at each other, or Jaida as she came in, both of them staring glassy-eyed at the opposite wall.

Jaida had simply understood. She’d crossed the room, and sat in the empty chair on Brita’s left, linking her arm through Brita’s. Brita squeezed Jaida’s arm to her side, and the three of them stayed still, silent for a long time, content to just be in each others’ company.

It was Brita who had come out the worst out of the three of them. She looked utterly exhausted, bags forming under her eyes, her skin still pallid, her hair covered by the hood of her favourite grey hoodie. She was far less exuberant than usual, her brown eyes dull, and when she spoke, her voice croaked as though she were recovering from a cold.

“Pizza?”

“Mantione’s?” Jaida had said hopefully.

“Yeah,” Jackie had replied.

Jackie had still parted her fringe to the left, although the bruise on her forehead from Sunday was starting to turn yellow and fade away. She looked pale, and was wearing an extra hoodie, shivering with cold as they stepped outside into the November evening.

The cold air seeming to rejuvenate them all, Jaida found herself overcome with emotion all of a sudden, and pulled Brita and Jackie into a hug; they both paused, dazed, before reciprocating, and the three of them stood in a hug for what seemed like hours.

“Huh,” Brita said eventually, when they broke apart. “What a day.”

At Mantione’s, Jan was on shift, but mentioned she was due to stop at six when Brita asked. She seemed nonplussed at their appearance in the diner, and didn’t seem to want to stay with them for very long, although the diner was quiet.

Instead she went to sit with Crystal and Aiden, who had appeared in the diner about ten minutes after they did, and was still there, deep in conversation with Crystal, nodding earnestly every now and then.

Jaida felt a pang, thinking that Jan might not even want to know her any more. And could she blame her?

It was Jan’s brother Paul who actually brought them their pizzas, giving Brita a rub on her arm as he put them down, concern written all over his face. How much did he know? What had Jan told him? But they didn’t have time to think much on it, as the smell of pizza seemed to bring them back to life. Jaida hadn’t felt able to eat much at lunch, and her stomach growled.

Two or three slices later, the three of them begun to speak a little more freely again.

“Did the hospital report back on Gigi?” Jackie asked.

Brita nodded. “The good news is she was totally fine, apart from being a bit dehydrated. They’re pumping her with fluids and stuff, and she’s getting released tomorrow, all being well.”

“That’s great news,” Jaida said, looking over at Crystal. “I bet she’ll be happy to get her girlfriend back.”

“Since there is no one to press charges against – no one alive, anyway – the Goode Case is officially closing. Thank God,” Brita added with a groan.

“So …” Jaida asked, putting a hand on Brita’s forearm, “what do you remember?”

Brita laughed bitterly. “Like, almost nothing. When I went to the house on Monday, on my own, I told myself I’d left my torch. But as soon as I stepped inside, I knew I’d made a mistake. Michelle just kind of …” Brita clamped both her hands on either side of her head and squeezed, unable to explain in any other way. “I felt like I was in a … a really deep sleep, most of the rest of Monday and all Tuesday. I remember a few bits, but they feel like dreams.”

“I bet the interviewer loved that,” Jackie muttered.

“I was fine after Michelle left me, it’s all crystal clear memories after that. But … I’m really nervous to do anything else like this now. Seriously. All this projection stuff has made me freaked out.”

“I meant to give you this on Monday, speaking of that,” Jaida reached into her bag and took out the book that Dahlia had given her.

Brita turned it over. “Astral Projection For Beginners: A Complete Guide.” Brita laughed nervously. “Thanks. You still owe me a Christmas present though.”

There was a loud gasp from one of the booths on the other side of the diner. Brita turned to crane her neck, before turning back to Jaida and Jackie with a sigh.

“Seriously, though, why are they both avoiding us tonight?” Brita asked.

Jackie and Jaida turned around to the booth twenty feet away on the other side of the diner. Jan was still sitting with Crystal and Aiden, nodding emphatically, listening to whatever it was they were saying.

“Have you spoken to either of them?” Jackie asked.

Brita nodded. “I messaged Aiden. She said that Crystal was talking to Jan last night, which was great as I was too. I think she’s gonna be fine. It was just a shitty experience for her. I really owe her big time for what Michelle did to her. Dragging her to a plane with a fire in it! That’s Jan’s biggest fear.”

“It is?” Jaida put a hand to her mouth.

“Yeah. Jan says she just remembers fainting, and then coming round with Dahlia putting those smelly things under her nose. Not a great Tuesday evening.”

Jaida watched as Jan stood up, still out of earshot, and walked out from the booth with Crystal and Aiden, making her way back behind the bar and disappearing into the back area.

“She’s as into you as you’re into her.” Brita grinned.

“What you talking about?” Jaida tried to feign nonchalance.

“Sis, Jan swore to me that she wouldn’t do any dating until she’d landed a part, and she said you’re taking her out this Friday.”

“Wait, what? Why would she break that for me?”

Brita gave her a cynical smile. “Come on Jaida, have you seen yourself in a mirror?”

“Girl I know, I’m hot, I make all the ladies go wild,” Jaida joked, pushing her braids back over her shoulders, “but that don’t mean all the ladies want to actually date me.”

“Well, Jan’s sole focus is her career,” Brita said. “All the wants is to perform. When we were kids, that was all she wanted to do all the time. She’d put on musical numbers to all her Barbies. And me. I was an honorary Barbie.”

“Honorary Barbie!” Jackie shrieked with laughter.

“Shut up, Jackie! But – the point is that Jan doesn’t break her focus for anything. Including girls, normally. This is a big deal for her.”

Jaida tilted her head cynically. “Is it the uniform as well?”

Brita paused. “Maybe a little bit.”

“I knew it! It always is!”

Jan emerged, her hair freed from the bun she wore it in for shift, and her apron and shirt discarded, replaced by a purple hoodie. She pottered around behind the bar, grabbing herself a bottle of coke.

“So – what’s the next step?” Brita asked.

Jaida finished her bite and stood up. “Probably this.” She strode to the bar, as Jackie and Brita looked confusedly after her.

Jan tensed a little when she saw Jaida approaching the bar.

“Oh, Jaida,” she said, a small forced smile gracing her face, but her eyes were wary.

“Hey, Jan,” Jaida replied. “Can I get a Pinot, and whatever the beautiful lady behind the bar wants?”

“Sure.” Jan stopped at the fridge and looked up. “Wait. Are you buying me a drink?”

“Yeah,” Jaida shifted from one foot to the other. “Your shift ends now, right?”

Jan poured herself a Pinot as well, and within a few minutes they were in a booth of their own. The diner was still quiet, a few people starting to bustle in, but they were mostly hidden, although Jan’s eyes kept darting amusedly around the diner.

“I think we’re being watched,” Jan murmured, a glint in her eye.

“I know, Brita looks far too happy with herself right now.” Jaida looked over at Brita and Jackie, Brita giving them a thumbs up while Jackie put her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking with silent laughter.

“Well, not just Brita,” Jan said, pointing to Crystal and Aiden, on the other side of the diner, who both turned from staring at them to looking down at their food in feigned innocence.

“Have you spoken to Brita since – since yesterday afternoon at all?” Jaida said quietly.

Jan sighed. “Yeah, we had a long call late last night, so I know she was, like, possessed or something when she brought me to the house. It sounded really strange at first, but then Crystal was calling me with the same news, so I said I’d meet them today. Crystal told me about what happened.”

“And you’re fine with her explanation? You believe us?”

“I think …” Jan paused. “I think I’ll just need a bit of time to process it. I mean, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find it weird, but I’ve known Brita since we were kids,” Jan shrugged. “She wouldn’t lie about something like that. I know that whoever it was who brought me to that place wasn’t Brita. Brita would never – well, she knows how scared I am of fire.”

“It wasn’t Brita,” Jaida shook her head fervently. “She’d never hurt you. She’s really beating herself up about the whole thing.”

Jan looked suddenly curious. “Do you guys always do paranormal stuff together? Like, Scooby Doo and Mystery Inc or something?”

Jaida choked on her wine. “How much did Crystal tell you exactly?”

“Well, I know Crystal sees ghosts and stuff – she tells practically anyone, you know – and she said you did the same thing! And that you – you had to leave your body and go between astral planes or something to get me!”

“Something like that,” Jaida shifted in her chair. “Yeah, I guess. But we all helped. Crystal probably helped most of all. Are Crystal and Aiden both alright after yesterday?” Jaida asked tentatively.

“Crystal’s over the freaking moon to have Gigi back, she’s so happy you wouldn’t believe. But … Jesus, she’s so sweet – she literally rang me from hospital last night to check up on me. Said she was pretty much the only person in the building not to have something spooky happen to them, so she felt it was her duty or something.”

Jan shook her head, smiling into her glass. “She does too much. Like – she always says if she was in an action movie, she’d be the one with the sword running screaming into the middle of a battlefield.”

“She needs some time for herself too,” Jaida replied.

“Aiden said Crystal kind of broke down at lunch, after their interviews. Because – because Crystal was trying to explain it all to Aiden; she remembers nothing! I think she had to take her home for a bit before they came out here.” Jan glanced at Crystal, who was deep in conversation and not looking at them any more. “She does too much.”

“Oh,” Jaida lowered her voice. “Don’t look now, but an interesting development is happening.”

Jackie was pulling Brita by the sleeve of her hoodie, along to the other side of the diner, and Jaida watched them say something to the students before climbing into the opposite seat to them.

“Oh, Jesus, finally.” Jan looked relieved. ���Honestly, they’ve both been driving me nuts.” She motioned to her phone. “I’ve had to give Aiden one lot of advice and Brita another.”

“Wait, they’ve both been sending you messages about each other? Instead of just – sending them to each other?” Jaida held back a laugh.

“They’re useless. Both of them.” Jan shook her head, exasperated. “Brita’s thinking too much. She wants the freaking planets to align or something, and all the details to be completely perfect. I’ve already told her that I haven’t seen Aiden this cheerful since we all dressed goth and went to see Marilyn Manson for her birthday. Aiden won’t care about the minor details. But Aiden just won’t say out loud what she’s feeling, and I think that’s what Brita needs to hear from her.”

“They’re both worrying about nothing,” Jaida agreed.

“So – maybe this is a good sign. If they can both pull their heads out their asses.”

Jaida snorted with laughter. “Why are we talking about Brita and Aiden, anyway? They’ll work things out. I just –“ Jaida held her eyes, “I just want to sit with you for a while.”

But Jan’s grin started to fade from her face, and she averted her gaze.

“What?” Jaida asked.

“I’m …” Jan laughed, but all Jaida heard was nerves. “I’m nobody, really – I’m just working here in my parents’ restaurant, saving money, auditioning every spare minute, not really getting anywhere, but you – you’re the real deal! You got a job, and an apartment, and an exciting life! And ghosts and stuff!” Jan looked awed. “It’s fascinating. I never saw a ghost. My brother Charlie says he did once, but we just tease him about it.”

“Believe me, fascinating is putting it nicely,” Jaida murmured, suddenly worried at where this conversation was going.

“You’re –“ but Jan didn’t finish her sentence, looking back up at Jaida and laughing humourlessly, shaking her head. “Sorry. I’m being stupid.”

“You’re not!”

“To think that someone like you …” Jan paused, waving her hand to try to articulate, but giving up and sighing. “Never mind.”

“Jan,” Jaida took a breath. “I – and I’m being honest! – I really, really think you’re great, and …” Jaida’s tongue was tying, but she swallowed hard, trying to dislodge the dry feeling in her throat. “And if you’re happy, I really don’t want this to change anything for us. I’d still like us to go out, on Friday. But if you’re uncomfortable …” Jaida exhaled, trying to keep her nerves in check, “if you’re uncomfortable, because of everything that happened yesterday, I totally understand.”

Jaida took a deep breath, preparing for the inevitable let down.

Instead, Jan leant across the table in the booth and kissed her gently on the lips.

It took a second for Jaida to realise before she returned the pressure; Jan’s touch was so gentle that Jaida held her breath, hardly daring to believe this was happening. She lifted a hand to Jan’s jaw, threading her fingers into her hair …

Jan pulled away sharply when a whoop came from the other booth, and Jaida leaned over to see Crystal waving her fists in the air, a huge grin on her face, while Aiden hid her face in her hands in embarrassment at her friend.

“Oh, yeah,” Jan shrugged apologetically. “I think they’re excited about this as well.”

Thursday 2ndNovember

6.21PM

“Salut Nicky. Hi Heidi.” Jackie unlocked the door without looking up, and was so distracted as she entered the apartment with hanging up her coat and kicking off her shoes that she didn’t even realise Jaida was there too.

JACQUELINE!

“What?” Jackie cried, almost dropping her bag. Her eyes darted to the couch, where Jaida was sat.

“What are you doing here?” She frowned. “Not that I’m not happy to see you!”

“Getting fashion advice for my date with Jan tomorrow. I asked Heidi and she said that Nicky was the expert, so here I am!” Jaida motioned to the rest of the couch, which was empty. Jackie looked all around the room.

“Where are they then?”

“They went to Nicky’s room about …” Jaida checked her watch. “About twenty minutes ago, said they were just going in to get some clothes. I thought I’d leave them to it for a while.” She grinned knowingly at Jackie, who grinned knowingly back.

“If you’d told me you were coming over, I’d have put some food on for us all.”

“I shouldn’t have to tell you!” Jaida cocked her head. “You should read my mind!”

“Don’t,” Jackie sighed. “I’m trying not to at the moment. It’s not all it’s cracked up to be. Do you know what it’s like, sitting in the office next to Brita, when she’s just trying to read messages from Aiden and then decipher in her head what they all mean? If I hear her thinking ‘but what does this mean, what does that mean’ much more I’m going to throw my laptop at her.”

“She’s gonna be mad when she finds out you’ve been hearing her thoughts!” Jaida teased.

“I think the idea has grown on her since last week,” Jackie shrugged. “Just … in moderation.”

Heidi’s raucous laughter came from Nicky’s room, followed by Nicky’s far more polite giggle, and then silence.

“I know when Nicky is at home now! I like Heidi a lot, she’s great – but then she got hold of my big French dictionary and started looking up rude words.” Jackie laughed. “Now all I need to do is listen out for Putain, Merde or anything else that comes out of her mouth.”

Jaida snorted with laughter. “Sounds like Heidi.”

“I’ve moved my Farsi dictionary to my room. I’m not taking any chances!”

Nicky’s door opened and Nicky and Heidi spilled out, carrying a small pile of clothes each, both looking a little flustered, Nicky’s blonde bob dishevelled.

“Here they are,” Jackie announced, cocking an eyebrow at them both.

“Your closet goes to Narnia, does it?” Jaida grinned.

“No, we were just Heidi, in the closet!” Heidi screeched with laugher, while Nicky, a little more restrained, giggled next to her. “Get it? ‘Cause I’m Heidi and I was just in a closet?”

“Comedy gold, sis.” Jaida was laughing along with them. “Have you got anything I can try out?”

“We found a few things you might like,” Nicky winked at her, laying her pile on the back of one of the chairs of the dining table. “But this one was our favourite!”

She held it up in front of Jaida, whose eyes widened. Between them, Heidi and Nicky had settled on a sparkly gold mini dress with capped sleeves, and a longer train at the back that almost reached the floor.

“Alright, let’s give it a try.”

Once Jaida changed into it, emerging from the bathroom in an exaggerated catwalk strut, Nicky clapped her hands gleefully while Heidi gave her a whistle.

Jackie, however, was frowning at it.

“I don’t know – I mean, you look stunning, Jai, but it doesn’t really scream first date, does it?” Jackie said, scratching the back of her neck. “It says a nice formal occasion. But you’re only going for coffee. I think it needs to tone down a bit.”

“Check with Brita, she knows Jan better than we do,” Heidi suggested, grabbing Jaida’s phone to take a picture.

Jaida:Brittany!!

Jaida:How about this for tomorrow evening? X

Brita:Girl you’re like SMOKING hot! Maybe not for coffee though xx

Jaida: What do you think Jan will wear?

Brita: Jan’s really chill. Denim jacket, skirt and sneakers

Brita:Maybe one of her Patriots shirts if she gets stuck x

Brita:She just sent me her outfit: denim mini and hi tops xx

“Yeah, I need something more casual,” Jaida said, reaching for the zip on the dress.

Friday 3rdNovember

6.12PM

It had been too confusing with all the conflicting opinions. Jaida had settled with black jeans and a deep red blouse, and threw a warm jacket over it. It was a little too cold to go without one. She’d managed to get away early, but then her bus was late, congestion and New York traffic making her twitch nervously and watch out the window.

By the time she got off the bus, it was ten past six. She hurried along the street, hoping she wasn’t too late. Hoping Jan was still there, or maybe Jan was late too.

But Jan was already there, looking in the opposite direction, hugging her lilac jacket around her, her blonde hair shifting effortlessly in the wind. 

No time like the present.

Jaida crossed the road and approached Jan from behind. She saw Jan catch sight of her reflection in the window, before mimicking nonchalance and letting Jaida approach.

“Boo!”

“Aah!” Jan turned in a half-hearted display of horror, before breaking into a warm smile. Her light brown eyes crinkled at the corners as she looked at Jaida up and down, drinking in her figure.

“You look incredible!” Jan grinned.

“So do you,” Jaida smiled back at her.

“You’re so lying. I’m in a Pats shirt!” Her laugh filled the air around them.

“You still look incredible.” Jaida tried to inject all the sincerity she felt into her voice. Jan was inadvertently making it very difficult to focus on anything else but her. The radiant smile, the perpetual changing movements in her face.

Jan directed Jaida into a corner in the coffee shop, on a couch that just became free as they walked in, and went to order for them. Jaida noticed how concealed they were, a small wall between the couch and the rest of the world, their own cocoon, almost entirely sheltered from people around her.

The sound of light jazz in the background and the people a few metres from them, intent on their own conversations, let Jan and Jaida submerge themselves into their own world. Jaida was starting to unwind, and Jan seemed to as well, leaning into the couch with her and resting her elbow on the back of it.

“I can only drink one now,” Jaida said, “and that’s it. Or I can’t sleep.”

Jan shrugged. “I don’t even like coffee!”

“What! What are you drinking then?”

“Hot chocolate!”

They both laughed at that. Jaida chanced a movement of her foot towards Jan’s sneakers under the table, determined to remain in control of the situation, while Jan responded by catching Jaida’s ankle between her own calves. Damnit.

“You’re a Sagittarius?”

“A sexy Sagittarius,” Jaida said with a wink. “You need to get it right.”

“I don’t think I’ve dated a sexy Sagittarius before.” Jan’s voice was becoming husky, Jaida was unsure if Jan realised it; but it was making Jaida’s skin tingle.

“What are you then?”

“Uh, a Gemini, but don’t hold that against me, we get such a bad rap.”

“What are Geminis like then?”

“Well,” Jan thought, “we’re very, uhm, there are many qualities, uhm -”

“You don’t know a damn thing about it!” Jaida cackled.

“I do! We’re quite diverse, we can seem like two different people, but we’re really, like, bubbly and energetic, sociable!” Jan nodded. “But there’s like, two different characters sometimes.”

“Like how?”

“Like, sometimes we like to be sociable with lots of people and lots of friends, and sometimes … sometimes we like a quiet time, with a hot chocolate, with maybe one gorgeous woman for company instead of a big crowd.”

“That’s Geminis, is it?” Jaida heard her voice starting to purr.

“It’s definitely some Geminis,” Jan chuckled.

“Do some Geminis also enjoy light jazz, detectives, and the occasional ghost?”

“Apparently so,” Jan murmured, that husky quality returning to her voice. “What about Sagittarians, then? Do they like pizza, getting drinks spilled on them, and the Patriots?”

Jaida tilted her head, placing a finger to her chin, pretending to ponder the question.

“Meh,” she said nonchalantly.

“Hey! Don’t call me ‘Meh’, Jaida!” Jan playfully batted at Jaida’s arm.

Neither of them could help laughing, Jan batting at Jaida again, when Jaida caught her hand this time and pulled Jan in a little closer, staying in place until they forgot to continue laughing, their faces edging nearer.

“Anything else Sagittarians like?” Jaida heard Jan breathe.

Jaida was close enough to see a scattering of freckles on Jan’s nose. Flecks of amber in her eyes.

She was getting close enough to losing herself now, and she realised that it was exactly what she wanted to do.

“I’m sure I can think of a few things,” Jaida purred, words getting harder to form, fighting to keep control. Jan was inches from her, eyelids fluttering a little, and Jaida raised a hand to stroke Jan’s jawline.

It was Jan who finally gave in, reaching forward to close the gap between their lips, her eyes falling closed. Jaida kissed her back, so slowly that it seemed to last half a lifetime, weaving her hand into Jan’s hair to make sure she was real, while her skin tingled and her mind relinquished all coherent thought, content to just lose herself in every sensation that was Jan.

[thestraggletag]

Indulgence AU, Part 6

Anons prompted:

Belle has a nightmare, Nick comes to the rescue.

Belle moves in with Nick to recover.

Belle opens up to Gold about what she’s feeling.

It felt sometimes like she was never going to leave the hospital. The doctor, to his credit, never gave them a definitive date, always kept things vague and stressed the fact that it was truly impossible to predict with any amount of certainty when Belle would be well enough to be discharged. Too many factors needed to be taken into account, including the possibility of infection or ruptured stitches once she began to slowly be able to move from the hospital bed to the bathroom.

Finally a Wednesday afternoon it was confirmed that Belle would be discharged on Friday, after a thorough examination of her injuries and her most recent lab work. Nick made the necessary arrangements right away, having the housekeeper prepare a spare room for him-he’d decided that his room, with the ensuite bathroom, would be the best one for her- and calling the nurse he’d interviewed already to take care of Belle. She would come a few times a day, to see to dressing changes and the like. He could see to Belle’s other needs, neither one much fancied a stranger with them as they struggled to repair their relationship. Belle’s things, which Ruby had helpfully packed, were already in their appropriate place. Seeing her clothing back on his walk-in closet and her books all over the place felt ridiculously nice.

Belle’s high spirits were obvious when the day finally came. Ruby had brought over sensible clothing to change her into, a blue dress, loose and comfortable, with a cardigan for the chill and ballet flats that Belle looked at as if they’d somehow insulted her. He tucked the cashmere tartan throw he’d brought over for his own use around her legs once inside the car and enjoyed the way she tucked herself next to him and gazed out the window.

Once in front of his building Dove helped carry Belle to their elevator, with a gentleness no one would have suspected from seeing him. Though he wished to have her settled on the bed as soon as possible she insisted she be placed in the chaise lounge instead, having apparently grown tired of closed rooms or beds in general. And though he fretted at first, fearing they’d forget when she was due her medication or that she would grow uncomfortable or pop a stitch if she did anything even remotely ardorous, it all soon faded away, and things began to feel like a typical lazy Friday evening together, working on their laptops, reading a book or watching movies. They had talked, back at the hospital, about a lot of their unresolved issues. She’d been surprised that her determination to keep her problems from him had hurt him, had left him feeling like she didn’t trust him enough. 

It had been uncomfortable and painful, but it had been a start. And though he’d worried they would carry over to their new living arrangement it felt more like they’d slipped back into their very comfortable dynamic. It wasn’t until it grew late that they noticed a discrepancy from their usual routine, with Belle retiring alone after he helped her into a pair of her favourite pyjamas, which meant pyjama bottoms stolen from him and an oversized Columbia t-shirt. She had protested the fact that he had given up his bedroom till he pointed out all the benefits of her sleeping in familiar surroundings. 

She fell asleep almost immediately, exhausted from the sudden rush of activity after weeks in bed. He retired to the guest room, talking himself out of checking in on her over and over till he fell into something that resembled sleep. It was a testament to how tired he was that he didn’t hear her at first, with the thick wall between them to serve as a buffer. But he did, eventually, fumbling out of the bed and blindly reaching for his cane a second after his eyes first opened. 

She was half propped up on the pillows when he slipped into the room, sheets tangled around her. When she spotted him she smiled in relief, reaching out to him with both arms, wincing slightly when the movement pulled at the stitches near her shoulder. He went to her at once, all doubts about whether she might not want him there gone. 

“You alright?” 

She nodded, but cuddled close to him as soon as he sat on the bed, hiding her face behind a curtain of hair. When he made a noise of disbelief she sighed and told him she’d had a nightmare. It wasn’t surprising, taking into account this was the first night Belle spent with only a very mild sedative. 

“You want to talk about it?”

He didn’t fight it when she pulled him down little by little till he was lying flat on the mattress next to her. His own bed felt blissful, and the shared heat from Belle even more so. This is what he’d been missing for weeks, this familiar feeling of comfort and contentment. He carded his fingers through her hair, something he had gotten used to doing very quickly once they’d started sharing a bed. The silence in the room was comfortable, almost lulling him to sleep.

“Can you stay?” Belle’s voice was small, not quite herself. “Does that make me a bad person, that I want you to stay? Is it selfish?”

For a second he regretted telling her how she had hurt him. She hadn’t done it on purpose, and Belle had an awful tendency to put other people’s feelings first, all the time. And he didn’t want her to begin second-guessing how she behaved around him, overthinking things with them. They had always been effortless in the everyday of things, their periods of conflict notwithstanding. 

“Of course not. I want to be here too. Just… let me know if I’m hurting you.”

She was still so fragile, one bad movement away from having her injuries re-open. He was afraid that he’d move in the night and hurt her somehow. 

“You worry too much.”

She snuggled closer, moving around a bit until she found a position that was comfortable for her. The minutes ticked by slowly after that, and Nick took the opportunity to savour the moment. He didn’t realise Belle was still awake until she spoke.

“I… I dreamt Jones went after you. That he-” She curled up close, unable to finish the sentence. “But when I woke up it was worse, because I understood that what I felt was what you did. All I had was one brief moment of panic that you were gone, you felt that for days. And I did that to you, because I didn’t trust you, because I was stupid and insecure. I’m sorry.”

He blinked back the sudden tears, embarrassed by the violence of his response. He gathered his composure and opened his mouth to tell her that it was alright, that it didn’t matter. It was all in the past. But the words died on his lips, tasting bitter. He kissed her hair instead and breathed in her scent, trying to digest what he was feeling. Relief at having his pain acknowledged, certainly, and a strange sort of happiness at seeing a more vulnerable side to Belle, one she felt secure enough to show.

“Thank you, sweetheart.”

It was the first time since the failed third proposal that he felt without a shadow of a doubt that they would be alright.

[beatleslsd]

temporary secretary chapter I

Chapter I

summary: Paul McCartney was a lawyer, and he always had trouble keeping a secretary due to a secret he keep behind closed doors.

(some requested for this to be a full fic, I’ll update when I can.)

"Love, look right here there's some opening for jobs!" I heard my mom say excitingly as she handed me the newspaper. I cringed, she's been trying to help me get a job since a turned 18, which was a few months ago. I told her I wanted to save up money to actually go to college, something my family hasn't done. "Oh look here!" She exclaimed, "you took the typewriting class right? Well there's a lawyer not too far from here who's in need of a secretary, one of the requirements is typewriting, why don't you apply for that dear?" I sighed and took the paper.

It said open interviews throughout the weekend from 12-5 for a lawyer; Mr. McCartney. The pay was decent for a secretary, but I could have sworn he already had one, I've seen his office plenty of times due to it being so close, I wonder what happened to his last secretary.

"I'll go on Sunday, maybe being the last impression will help my chances." I smiled up at my mom, as I got up to put my tea cup away. I took the newspaper with me and then headed upstairs to my room. Although it was only Wednesday I figured it would be no harm if I were to set out an outfit for my interview, I wanted to look professional. I haven't gotten a job yet, and I was starting to get desperate, I needed to get out of this house and start my own life. Although I loved my mother, she could be a bit overbearing.

—

Today was the day. I let out a shaky breath as I straightened out the pencil skirt I put on, and fixed my white blouse, making sure I looked perfect. I decided a little makeup couldn’t hurt, but I did the bare minimum: concealer, mascara, and a tinted red lipgloss. I grabbed my purse, making sure I had everything, before yelling a goodbye and I love you to my mother and exiting the door.

“I got this,” I said to myself in the car mirror, before driving off. I straightened my back once I got out of the car, and played with my hair a bit, I curled it for the occasion, I felt a bit silly for dressing up so much for a job interview.

I opened the wooden door, immediately greeted by a lady who looks like she’s been crying. She had a box of office supplies and photos, and she pushed past me, and I shivered slightly, weird. I gulped as I sat in the waiting room along with some other ladies, who looked way more professional than me, making me feel intimidated. I focused my eyes on the floor as I awaited my turn. I fiddled with the bottom of my skit, as I heard the other ladies talking.

I was the last interview of the day, once I realized it was my turn, I stood up from my chair, and made my way to the office at the end of the hallway, and knocked. “Come in,” I heard a soft voice say, and I let out one last shaky breath before entering. “Close the door behind you,” the voice added, and I nodded not yet making eye contact. I closed the door behind me and sat at the chair in front of the desk. “I’m y/n l/n,” I spoke with as much confidence as I could, as I got my resume out of my purse, handing it to him.

I finally made eye contact with the lawyer, he had beautiful eyes, not just the color of his eyes where beautiful, the shape itself was a beautiful sight. My breath hitched slightly, as our hands made small contact when he grabbed the papers from me. As he examined my papers, I took the time to look at him. His face shape seemed to be perfect, and his eyebrows were also a perfect shape, his nose was small, and fit his face perfectly. He was clean shaven, and he looked to be in his late 20s, meaning he was a new lawyer, but from what I heard, he was very good at his job.

“It says here you took a class for typewriting, and you graduated top of your class.” He said in a thick accent, and I just nodded, not knowing what to say. “Your resume is impressive, I don’t think this job would be fitting for you since you exceed all of the expectations.” He continued, looking up from the papers to look at me.

“I assure you this job would suit me, fine sir, I would love your work for you.” I could have sworn I saw him smirk, but it quickly faltered back to a cold expression.

“Is that so?” His voice stayed the same, and I nodded once again. “Alright, then you got the job.” He gave me a smile, and a tried to stutter out words, anything, a thank you, but I was too shocked. He had plenty of interviews, and to get the job on the spot was unexpected. “I’ll write you out a schedule, you’ll start this week. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Thank you, sir.” I was finally able to manage.

“Oh, don’t thank me, love.” He said with another smile and handed me my schedule. I smiled back.

“I’ll see you tomorrow sir.” I waved before exiting the building.

—

Paul’s POV

I bit my lip as I watched the smaller girl leave, my eyes traveling down a bit. This was disgusting, how long was this one gonna last? The poor girl just wants a job, they all just wanted a job. I had to stop doing this, what if I got caught? Of course, I did everything with consent, but I still couldn’t help but think how sick this was, how sick I am.

I sighed softly, as I opened the last drawer in my desk, locked of course. I pulled out the photo book, flipping through the pages of all the girls who have worked in this building, the last girl who left, Jane, held the most spots in the book, I held her for the longest. She went along with all the games I liked to play and didn’t ask questions. She was perfect. However, I couldn’t keep doing it, it was gross and unprofessional, I had to stop doing this.

My hands slowly dragged across one of the newer photos, a photo of Jane, her ass in the air as she was bent over my desk, her loose skirt hiked up, and her panties around her ankles. Her bare ass just out in the open for me.

I shut the book, I couldn’t do this. Y/n will be different, it will be professional. No games.

[clericofthebalance]

Life Needs Things to Live, Chapter Three

Class was going to be less of a struggle for Percy today.  Percy settled into his seat in his MW Lit class, one of his final core classes until he could fully focus on what he needed to graduate.  This was the only class he absolutely had to take at the university, something he couldn’t sub with community college classes for a much cheaper rate.

Only one thing made this class tolerable given the 8 AM start time and boring material.  He glued his eyes to the door, sipping his thermos of coffee, waiting patiently.  Finally, she floated in.

Long dark hair captured in a braid, the most beautiful smile he had ever seen, warm eyes that brought flames and autumn and the forest to mind.  She had a sharp and wickedly clever look to her face, joy radiating off every movement and gesture, unique to her very bones.  He adored how she wore blue feathers woven in her hair, how piercings lined her ears, how she emphasized her expressive eyes with perfect eyeliner, how she always had a giant zoology book under her arm.  She was beautiful and clever and just shone in the depressing classroom.

Fuck, he was pathetic and weird.  He really needed to get over his crush and focus on his life, not idolize some poor woman like she was his manic pixie dream girl.  Ugh.

Percy focused on his book, thinking about the two applications he had handed off yesterday. One to Gilmore, to work the counter in his coffee shop, the other to Keyleth for the apartment.  Hopefully, good things would come of it.  They both hinted that he would be accepted.

Maybe Asum could come visit soon, see Beau again.  It would be nice to see his old friend and savior.  To have something to celebrate rather than to mourn.

“Alright, class, we’re going to do a project instead of a final paper.  You’ll be working in assigned pairs to create a presentation and paper on a modern version of any classic novel and how it compares to the source material.  Your initial proposal is due to me in one week.  I’ll call out your assigned pairs now.”

Percy grimaced, praying he’d get someone tolerable that would do their share.  He couldn’t handle working with a freshman who left everything to him again.  He would commit murder.

“Percival and Vex’Ahlia.”

Wait, what?  He stared at Professor Shura blankly and she pointed to the back.  At his crush. Oh, shit fuck.  He was going to humiliate himself.

***

Vex stared at her notes, blanking out.  She hated core classes.  This English class was her absolute last one and it was a misery.  She wished she was out at the zoo or in a lab.  She only wanted to read what she wanted to read. Not this shit.  She sighed.

“Um, excuse me?”

She started and looked up, flushing at the quizzical brow and brilliant eyes on her.  The guy standing over her was hot.  White hair in a messy undercut, heavy brows, a strong yet elegant jaw.  It was the eyes that got her, though, blue as a winter sky and shining with intelligence. Vex easily mustered her most charming, most flirty smile for such a pretty guy.

“Yes, Darling?  How can I help you?”

The questioning frown lifted into a slight smirk, cocky and charming and matching his posh accent, one full and pale eyebrow going up, “Well, we’re partners on our final project according to the professor.”

“Project?”

“Oh, you checked out, too? Apparently we have to do a presentation comparing a classic novel to a modern adaptation while analyzing universal themes,” he rolled his eyes.  His unfairly pretty blue eyes, “And we have to work in pairs.”

“Shit!  I have labs to do! I thought this would just be a paper I could bullshit.”

“I was hoping for that as well,” he dropped into the seat next to her, looking unfairly comfortable in his formal slacks, a neat button up, and a tailored vest in royal blue. No tie, but he did have a black turtleneck underneath.  A little odd for a college student and very high class goth, but whatever.  He was still hot as shit.

“Vex’ahlia, but you can call me Vex.”

He tilted his head, chuckling, her knees going weak as the earrings up his ears sparkled in the fluorescent light of the classroom, “Percival de Rolo, Percy.”

“A pleasure to meet you, Percy Dear.”

“An even greater pleasure to meet you, Miss Vex’Ahlia,” he leaned forward with a charming smile, “So, exchange work and class schedules?  Find a time that works?”

“Schedules? You are a fancy one.”

“I have to plan every minute or I would crumble under the load,” she laughed as he pulled out an honest-to-goodness planner, “Yes, it’s color coordinated.  I was not joking about my life.”

“Okay, okay,” she giggled, grinning, “I get it.  Your girlfriend must keep you busy.”

“Oh-I-Uh-No,” Percy’s pale skin flushed and she noticed some light scarring around his eyes.  It almost looked like droplets, light pink against the lovely red of his cheeks, “I don’t have a girlfriend.  I just work two jobs, a double major with a minor, and a lot of responsibilities.”

“No girlfriend? Really?”

“N-no.  Oh, my phone is ringing!”

She barely held in her laughter at the Star Wars theme coming out of his backpack.  Vex ran her eyes over his profile, appreciating the fine jaw and strong nose, the disheveled hair and two-day scruff, the delicate metallic glasses that gave him a distinguished look only emphasized by his elegant outfit.  An outfit she could tell had seen quite a bit of wear judging by the precisely stitched repairs and fabric fade.  His phone was also an older model, older even than her three generations behind smart phone. So, he was posh but maybe not rich. Just particular about his clothing.

Damn, but he was a fine specimen of a man, his voice soft and refined and lovely.  She wanted to pin him down and see how far that lovely blush went.

“Oh, shit,” he sighed, looking absolutely devastated at whatever the person on the line was saying, “Well, good thing I put in a few applications.  It’s fine, ma’am, you don’t have the time to keep the place open anymore.  I had a feeling this was coming.  Take care and keep me updated.  I’ll be just fine.  You know me.”

He hung up and rubbed his temples, pushing the glasses up, “Sorry about that.  Former job.”

“That’s fine.  Are you okay?”

“Oh, I’ll be fine. This doesn’t even make the top ten of worst things to happen to me,” Percy smiled, but still looked strained, “So, free days?”

“Wednesday after 3 and all weekend except for Saturday morning.  Me and my housemates are interviewing a potential new renter.”

“Oh?  I’m inter-wait, do you live with Kiki?  Keyleth?”

“Yeah, I do!  Are you her Percy?”  Vex lit up at the prospect of getting to spend more time with him and leaned over to look at the organized but packed schedule.  Shit, he wasn’t kidding, “That’s an insane coincidence. She’s told us all about you and Beau. I work at a café just down the street from the house, Laina’s.  We could study there or at the house.  And you could bring Beau and Pepper along.”

“Honestly, that would be great.  I actually just put in an application at Laina’s,” Percy smiled back, “I really appreciate the offer.  You sure you don’t mind?”

“Only if you don’t mind my dog.”

“Deal,” he offered his hand with a wink, beaming, “I-Thanks.”

“Not a problem, handsome,” he flushed to his ears, those spots standing out once more against the red, blushing at her new nickname for him, “So, we can meet up around 4 at Laina’s and I’ll see you Saturday?  I see you’re free from 4 to 7 tonight.”

“I’ll be the one with the black Zemian Shepherd and small child.”

“Sounds great,” she winked, gathering her things, “I’ll see you then.  I need to get to my next class.”

“B-bye,” Percy was frozen, flushed, and staring at her like she was the most gorgeous thing in the world. She strode off with a confident swing to her hips, head held high, and a triumphant grin.  A study date with a handsome man and his babies.  Hopefully, she and Beau would get along.  Kids usually liked her.  Then, she could hunt down that sexy shy bastard.

But first…

She dialed Vax as soon as she was outside the building, knowing his first class wasn’t until noon and he was off this morning, biting her lip.

“What’s up, Stubby?”

“Morning, shitbird.  I met the potential roomie today.  He’s apparently in my lit class and we got assigned a project together.”

“You sound entirely too chipper for this early.”

“Well, he’s absolutely gorgeous and looks like a good guy.  He got fired while we were talking and didn’t even react.  Was just as pleasant as before the call.  I liked him,” Vax made a disbelieving snort, “Really! He color-coordinates his schedule. It’s absolutely adorable.”

“Are you thinking with your head?”

“Yes!  I promise, you’ll like him.  His phone is older than mine and he has definitely patched his clothes a few times.”

“Fine.  I’ll go a bit easier on him.”

“On that note, I’ll be studying at Laina’s tonight.  With him. While you’re working.  I’ll get Grog to walk me home.”

“Wait, what?”

She hung up with a smug smirk.  That would drive him crazy all day.

[the-writing-dump-bin]

Okay, so um, this is gonna have a couple parts. I don't have a title for this, but it is a Jotaro/Female Reader fic. This first part is SFW but it will get into N*SF*W in later chapters.

*UPDATE: Title is now called "Whirlpool"*

You were starting to lose hope.

Interview after interview and still no call backs.

You had put your resume out at almost anything since moving to the city. Having a few meetings, you thought the interviews were going well. Nope. It always ended with a handshake and a 'We'll call you if you get the job.'

But those calls never came. Your savings were dwindling fast.

Sitting in your apartment, you wondered if you should just take a job at a fast food restaurant in the meantime. Or better, maybe move back home where everything was familiar and comforting.

You had no friends here. Not yet anyways. You had been so wrapped up in finding a job that you didnt feel like going out to bars or clubs; the rejections making you depressed.

One Wednesday afternoon, you got a call from an unknown number.

Usually, you dont answer numbers you didnt know, but you picked it up anyway. "Hello?"

"Good afternoon, is this Y/N?"

The voice was so deep; definatly a male. It sent a chill down your spine. "Y-Yes..." You said cautiously.

"My name is Jotaro Kujo, I am a marine biologist. I saw your resume at one of the places I had visited recently. You are looking for work, yes?"

Your eyes darted around the living room. This was extremely unexpected. "H-How did you see my resume?"

"I had a meeting with one of the places you applied to. Your resume was sitting on top of a stack of papers, I ended up taking it."

"Isn't that wrong?"

"Probably. But I am looking for help and thought maybe to call you. Would you be interested in coming in for an interview?"

Your breath caught in your throat.

You had been on many interviews, but for some reason, this was different. This Jotaro guy swiped your resume from someone else desk and called you. He claimed to be a marine biologist, which intrigue you. You didn't have any background in that field but you knew enough to get by.

When you didn't say anything for a moment, Jotaro asked if you were still there.

Coming back to reality, you agreed to the interview. What else did you have to lose?

"Great. Are you available tomorrow at 4pm?"

"Yes."

Jotaro gave you the address to his office which was down at the local college. You guessed he taught a couple classes there. "See you then." He hung up.

Letting out a breath you didn't realize you were holding, you bounced with excitement.

"I need to find something to wear!"

---

You shook with nerves as you held onto the door handle. This was the place, since on the door his name was written.

Opening it slowly, you crept inside.

The room looked bare save for the large desk in the corner. There where a couple of bookshelves, but even they were empty. Are you sure this was the place? You looked at the door you came through again.

"You must be Y/N."

That deep voice again.

You turned your head to see a very tall, broad shouldered man in a black, long sleeved turtleneck. He also wore white pants; a white hat sitting atop his head. He came into the room from the other door that you noticed that was off on the side. That must be his real office.

"Y-Yes." You extended your hand in greeting. "Thank you for inquiring about me."

Jotaro seemed to hesitate for a moment before shaking your hand. Maybe he wasn't comfortable touching strangers.

His turquoise eyes looked at you, as if studying you what kind of person you could be. But that only made you blush, making you a little more nervous than you actually were. Finally, he shook your hand.

"Right this way."

He grunted, showing you to his office that was through the door he came.

*Wow*

You thought as you looked around the room. The walls were full of his accomplishments and pictures he had to have taken of sea creatures. The office seemed a little cramped as his large desk took up a lot of space. There was more room in the first room they were in, why choose this as a work space?

"Please, sit." Jotaro waved a hand to the empty chair opposite of him on the other side of his desk.

You did as instructed, taking in his features as you did. He couldn't have been any older than twenty-nine. Your eyes went back to the plaques on his walls. He's done so much at such a young age.

"Tell me about yourself."

Jotaro's voice brought your attention back to him.

"Oh, um. Well, I moved here from my hometown in hope of starting something new. I like to follow though and get my tasks done. I graduated top of my classes in high school and college. I'm very organized with projects, making sure that it exceeds to one's expectations."

Jotaro nodded his head a little and wrote on a piece of paper. He noticed you wringing your hands. "No need to be nervous."

Embarrassed, you tucked your hands under your legs. "I'm sorry. It's just, I've been on a lot of interviews and they all fell through."

Jotaro was silent for a few minutes, shuffling through some papers he had on his left until he found what he was looking for. Your resume.

"You don't have a lot of references here. But I see you took classes in zoology."

"Yeah, sorry about that. I've only really done side jobs while I was in college just to get by and save up for when I moved. I want to work with animals; I loved going to the zoo as a child and since then, I knew I wanted to work with them."

"So you know about marine life, too?"

You shrugged. "Enough to not sound dumb." You chuckled nervously.

Jotaro moved his hand over his mouth, hiding the smirk you had given him with your answer; he didn't want you too see his expression.

Composing himself, he rose from his chair, motioning for you to follow him.

Coming back to the first room, he stopped next to the empty desk.

"I'll give you a chance. This will be your space, you can do with it what you want."

Wait, what?

He just said he was giving you a chance? He was hiring you?

You looked at the desk. Seeing that you were the first thing people would see when they come in, you realized you were being hired as a secretary.

It wasn't something you were thrilled about. But you decided to take it anyways; Jotaro was the first person to offer you a job let alone hire you right on the spot. You accepted, gratefully.

"Thank you, Mr. Kujo! I promise I would do my best!"

"Good. I will see you tomorrow morning."

He shook your hand again and you parted ways.

Back at home, you cried tears of happiness. You finally found a job.

Though you had no idea how to be a secretary, you figured you could just wing it. It would be a learning experience, but just like everything else you've done, you would do your job with dedication.

---

"Good afternoon, Y/N! Is Professor Kujo in?"

You smiled at one of the other teachers that worked at the facility. "Oh, good afternoon, Mr. Westin, let me see if he's ready to see you." You buzzed Jotaro's phone. "Mr. Kujo, Mr. Westin is here to see you."

There was no answer, but Jotaro's door opened and he emerged, waving him to come in. Mr. Westin followed, shutting the door behind him. "Did you get that report from the lab back?"

Jotaro handed him a folder.

Mr. Westin nodded. "Great work, Jotaro. Are you ready for the field work coming up?"

"I will be." Jotaro grunted. "Y/N has set up hotel and anything else I needed."

"She's a helpful little angel, huh? Since she came around, your work has been flourishing."

Jotaro flicked his eyes toward the door. Just on the other side, you sat at your desk. His work load had gotten lighter in the last six months, thanks to you. He had been able to work and focus on what was important while you took care of the minor things.

Sometimes you had brought him lunch when you knew he was too wrapped up in his work to even stop to eat.

He was to be leaving in a couple days to do field research on ocean life on the coast of California for over two weeks. But something about you not being there nagged at him.

Remembering the other teacher was talking to him, he said, "Yeah. She's been a real big help."

Mr. Westin nodded and said his goodbye to you, leaving the office.

Looking up, you noticed Jotaro leaning against the door frame to his own office with his arms crossed. He was looking at you but not saying anything. That didn't surprise you, he was a quiet man. But his stare made you a little uneasy. "I-Is there something wrong, Mr. Kujo?"

The way you addressed him made his stomach do flips. It was an interesting feeling. One he hadn't felt before. "Did you make the preparations for my trip?"

"Yes, sir. Its all right here, I finished it this morning. Your flight leaves at 7 am Friday morning and your hotel is booked. Food is all taken care of and there was even some money left over if you wanted to do any shopping." You looked back at him. "Is there anything else you need me to do?"

Jotaro strode to your desk in just three steps; those long legs taking him anywhere in a flash.

"There is. Call and change the itineraries to two people."

"Two, sir?"

"You heard me. Call the airline and add another person. Call the hotel and add another room. Make sure everything accommodates for two."

"S-Sure. May I have the name of the second person so I can make sure they get everything they need?"

Jotaro turned back towards his office, saying your own name.

"Wait, what?" Your head shot up at him. "Me? You want me to go? What does a secretary like me have anything to do with this trip?"

Jotaro kept his door open as he sat back down behind his desk. You stood and followed him in. Before you could say anything, Jotaro spoke first.

"You have grown from the nervous girl that walked through here six months ago. During your interview, you said that you strive to get your tasks done and do it with dedication. I've seen that you've proved that."

You blushed. You never really got that kind of praise from your other bosses.

"You wanted to work with animals, correct?"

You nodded.

"Well, then, come with me on the trip. Learn more about marine life."

What an amazing offer! But you couldn't help but think he was really just bringing you along so you can do his minor tasks. "Thank you, Mr. Kujo, but again, why do you want to bring a secretary?"

He interlocked his fingers and brought his hands up to his face; his eyes staring at you intently. "The word 'secretary' for you leaves a bad taste in my mouth. From now on, you are my assistant. You will still have your duties as you've had, but I'm taking you on this trip to help you learn more about marine mammals."

You couldn't find the words. You were thankful for his kindness, truly. But you weren't sure about going. You started wringing your hands again.

"Yare Yare Daze." Jotaro muttered. "If you don't want to go, just say so."

"Huh? No, I mean. Um..." You decided to go for it. What harm could it do? You developed a decent friendship with your boss, and he was offering this paid trip to you. "I-I'll go."

Jotaro did his best to hide his excitement; keeping his expression neutral. "Then get to work on getting yourself on the itineraries and take the day off tomorrow to pack and get some rest. I will see you at the airport."

[iridescentanachronism]

calum + a coffeeshop run-in

Hello folks! I am back again to wreck havoc (by wreck havoc i mean write a mediocre at best + way too long oneshot LOL) so I hope no one minds! I am in love with Calum Hood so idk i thought i’d write this cute fluffy piece! This is an OC I might use her again, and the two don’t meet till the end but its very fluffy! If you’re not a fan of slow burn this probably isn’t the drabble for you. Anywho! Thank ya for the support on the last fic and constructive criticism is MORE than welcome!!! Love ya <3

WC: 1914 

As the soft sunlight poured into the coffeehouse, she let a small smile grace her face; a steaming cafe au lait was sitting to the right of her favorite novel, It’s Kind of a Funny Story by Ned Vizzini. The warm brick walls were covered with blankets of thick ivy and the familiar barista sent her a wave as he grinned at her seat of choice. Every Saturday morning she, as gracefully as possible, plopped her bag down onto the corner table next to the large window, and proceeded to order the exact same thing as the week before. The habit had evolved into more of a tradition for her and the employees, and all parties involved looked forward to it every week. Of course, however, not everyone knew of her tradition. All of the regulars looked at her with familiarity, however, Calum Hood was not a regular. 

He first spotted her on Saturday the third, he would never forget the date. After becoming overwhelmed with the stress of the studio he had popped out for a smoke and ended up in the cozy joint, not anticipating the beautiful girl humming in the corner. He noticed how the pages of her book had been dog-earred, spine worn, and the cover had shown marks that could only be a result of love. He noticed the way her thick brown hair laid perfectly over her shoulders, and the way her hazel eyes began to moisten while she read. He knew that he wasn’t the only person whose breath had been taken by the polished young woman. Whilst Calum took his time adoring the woman who he had deemed no less than an angel, the boys continued to work, and eventually his brief solace had to come to an end. After receiving his drink, he considered introducing himself, but he knew he didn’t have much time before his absence would go from being a mere annoyance to a menace, so he swore to go back on the next Saturday, hoping that her visit was a habit. 

Calum had never felt as though the days passed by slowly, his schedule was always packed and the bassist had little time to dedicate to anything other than his craft. Typically, he would be grateful for the daily recording sessions, long days of interviews, and time to perfect his abilities; this week, however, Calum yearned for the time to pass more quickly. He busied himself with every possible task in an effort to distract himself from the memory of the woman who had entranced him. No, he didn’t believe in “love at first sight”, but he did know that he was drawn to this girl in a way he had never felt before. He had purchased a copy of the novel that she appeared to adore, and after starting it he had realized why her eyes misted at the cafe; it was a gut wrenching story of perseverance in its most raw form. After reading a few chapters, he proceeded to clean his kitchen, do a load of laundry, tune his bass, attempt to write, and make himself lunch, Calum had about had it. It was only eleven in the morning on Wednesday, how the hell was he supposed to last until Saturday? He allowed his mind to wander into a dangerous territory; he began to build a backstory for the beauty. He decided she must be a quiet introvert who preferred to go at her own pace than follow another's, that's why she spent her Saturday morning alone and in peace, rather than surrounded by friends or family. 

After a long day of bussing tables, Theo unceremoniously threw herself onto the couch in the backroom. It had been a busy Friday night at the restaurant she worked at, a scene that she knew far too well from her years of working there.  She allowed herself three minutes, no more and no less, to rest before her short trip home. She was simply so exhausted that even the drive to her home had seemed daunting. After her time-out had ended, she quickly wished a goodnight to her coworkers and walked to her car. She faced almost no traffic on her car ride home (as she had expected, as she clocked out at 11:03pm), and made her way into her cozy apartment. After saying hello to the attendant at the desk downstairs, she scurried up to the third floor to complete her nighttime routine and jump into her familiar bed. Before allowing herself to fade into sleep, she rolled over and made sure to set her alarm for nine; it was simply tradition that she made it to her coffeeshop before the eleven o’clock rush. 

On Saturday morning Calum was buzzing with excitement. Duke’s “walk” appeared to be more of a speed walk today, and Calum’s shower was about five minutes shorter than usual; his hair routine, however? Roughly 15 minutes and approximately eight curses longer. He could not wrap his head around the gut feeling he had all week: the stunning girl would be back today, and Calum would approach her. The plan seemed simple enough, being that he had not made one yet. Calum, or “Cool Guy Cal” as he demanded people call him, thought he would be able to come up with a smooth one-liner as he approached the girl he could not get off his mind. He gave Duke a quick kiss on the head before grabbing his car keys, asking fate to give him this one chance with the girl he couldn’t forget. 

Theo woke up well before her alarm, she set it every Friday night hoping that her work sleep schedule would magically wear off and she would be able to sleep past six, but her plan never worked. She padded around her apartment in her ex’s large tee shirt and fed her goldfish, Samuel, while affectionately murmuring that he was the best choice she’d ever made. She tidied up the house and began her morning routine, brushing her teeth, washing her face, and pulling her unlawful curls out of her eyes with a few clips. She sighed at the dark circles underneath her eyelids, but hadn’t thought enough about them to bother with makeup. She grabbed her day bag, untouched from the week before, and happily trotted out of her complex. The walk to the cafe had always been her favorite part of her trips, the birds chirping and the bright sun spreading across her skin could turn any day into a good one. Her green maxi skirt brushed along her legs as she confidently strutted down the same route she took every Saturday morning. She walked with her shoulders back and head held high; unknowingly carrying an aura of professionalism and class. The young woman hadn’t realized that she appeared so poised before she moved to the Golden State. Far more people than she could count had complimented her for her stature since she moved, and she had just about had it with strangers approaching to compliment her “vibe”. During her tenure in Los Angeles, Theo had realized that everything here was curated to be seen by others. Simply, in LA people believed that every aspect of one’s life was meant to be on display, and therefore, little things like one’s strut down the street and the amount of rings on their hand translated to their worth and opinions. She continued her trot down the road, ignoring the looks being sent her way and instead focusing on the cafe au lait and comforting text that she knew awaited her. 

Before Calum left his car, he made sure to triple check his appearance. He wore what he believed to be his best shirt (Ashton agreed with him, so he knew it wasn’t a mistake), left his curls a little messy, and made sure he had absolutely nothing in his teeth, despite the fact that he hadn’t yet consumed anything. He jumped out of the car and walked briskly to the ivy covered walls, a warm feeling began to spread in his chest as he swung open the doors and glanced around the cafe. The feeling dissipated quickly when he realized that the girl he had ventured out for was, in fact, not there. He ordered his drink of choice and sat at a table near a window before huffing in frustration, but he had nothing to lose at this point, so once his number was called he rose to pick up his drink and enjoy the serene cafe he had found himself in. 

The little bell jingled above Theo’s head as she walked into the place she had grown so familiar with, her face still felt hot from the merciless Los Angeles summer she had walked through, and it was her absolute favorite feeling. The long skirt fluttered around her calves as she walked up to the counter to say hello to the baristas that she now called her friends, and they began working on her drink without even asking what she would like. She went to take her usual place in the secluded corner by the window, and while walking over noticed a breathtaking man sitting two tables away from her spot. Her breath hitched in her throat and she shot him a soft smile as she took her rightful place. 

My God. I could wake up to that smile everyday. Calum thought to himself in awe. He quickly curved up the sides of his mouth to send her (what he hoped was) a sweet grin in return. He quickly shook the previous thought out of his head, knowing it was more than irrational and inappropriate since he had yet to even learn the girls name. He watched as the man who took his order walked over to her table with a bemused smile, they chatted briefly and it became quite obvious to Cal that his hunch had been correct, she does come here every Saturday morning. Zach, the barista, had left her table with a laugh and returned with a big mug. After straining to hear Calum heard the girl release a melodic giggle paired with a genuine thank you for the server. Zach mockingly bowed to her and said, with an exaggerated wink, “anything for you, Princess Theo”. Ignoring the spark of jealousy that ignited when Calum heard the pet name, he felt more gratitude for Zach than he could ever imagine. Theo. Theo fit the young woman perfectly; a greek name meaning “divine gift”. With this newfound information Calum felt the surge of confidence he needed, he approached the table in the corner with a bit of nerves in his tummy. 

“Hey, it’s nice to meet you. My name is Calum, I was just wondering if this seat is taken?” He wouldn’t admit it to anyone else, but Calum may have thickened his accent a bit in an effort to woo the girl. She already had him wrapped around her finger, at this point he needed every advantage he could get. He watched in adoration as her face flushed bright pink, and she sputtered out a greeting of her own, “Oh! Um- hi I’m Theo it’s nice to meet you as well, no-no, the seat isn’t taken.” From the second that Calum slid into the chair across from her, Theo knew he would be nothing but trouble, and in the years to follow she would learn that while he was troublesome, he was so much more.

[brainbuffering]

Not epilepsy related, I know, but please bare with me. I made a joke on Twitter about how I could probably write a 2 page essay on the title page for Grayson #8. 

The tweet was liked by Grayson Creatives: Jackson Lanzing, Tim Seeley and  Mikel Janín. I intended to leave it just there, however, I couldn’t get it out of my mind, and apparently I have no self control because 3 days later I had written a five page essay on it, and well once you’ve written 2894 words on a subject you may as well publish it somewhere. And because I might as well say it here, if you ever want to read more essays like this, let me know, and you can support me on Ko-Fi if you’re feeling extra generous <3 

So after a quick shout out to my sister Ruth for reading it over and providing invaluable feedback, and the wonderful Wednesday Club discord for helping me brainstorm titles and providing general encouragements, I present:

Climbing the Eiffel Tower: Dick Grayson as a feminist sex icon

Tim Seeley and Tom King’s 2014-2016 DC Comics series Grayson follows the story of Dick Grayson as he infiltrates the spy network known as Spyral and travels across the world chasing one adventure after another. Making his first appearance in 1940 as Batman’s sidekick and protégé, Robin, he became just as famous in popular media as the Batman himself. Unlike most comic book characters, Dick Grayson was allowed to age, going from the eager child circus acrobat to a teenage superhero leading his own team. He later went on to find a day job as a cop, whilst still moonlighting as a superhero under the new name Nightwing. For a short time he even picked up the cowl and became Batman following Bruce Wayne’s apparent (nobody stays dead in comics for very long) death and adopted Bruce’s son Damian as his own Robin. In 2014, following his own apparent death, he was granted the new moniker Agent 37.

Although Seeley and King’s Grayson series was very much grounded in the DC Universe, (where Super-powered humans saves the day by running backwards through time and green shape shifting aliens attend high school) the series had just as much in common with 60s Spy films. Nazis were punched, skimpy swimsuits were worn, and the day was saved again and again thanks to a handsome man with a dashing smile. Yet one of the distinguishing features of the much applauded series was the presentation of Dick Grayson as a sex icon. In an industry berated for its sexualisation of female characters, where a teenage girl is put into a purple metal bikini and it is called liberation, Grayson brought a rare respite for female fans. Suddenly the object of affection was male.

It is a running joke amongst DC fans that Dick Grayson is the sexiest man in all comics (at least from an American perspective). In 2013 Dick Grayson even gained the number one spot in Comics Alliance’s list of 50 Sexiest Guys in Comics, beating fellow former Robin Jason Todd (Ranked No. 23) and the Batman himself (ranked No. 46). It was in the 1980- 1984 New Teen Titans series that Dick Grayson was able to step out from the shadow of the Bat, and start to become the sex symbol he is known as today. Along with starting to appear shirtless, he was also shown to be in a sexually active relationship with his girlfriend, Starfire: a teenage alien princess clad in, yes, a purple metal bikini. Perhaps when created in 1940 he was meant to stay the eager young boy, that is not the character we see today, as one internet commentator described him, he’s “that kid at thirteen who’s hot at twenty-one” (Jaffe, 2017). Dick Grayson is now one of the few male comic book heroes who is deliberately designed to be a sex icon aimed at women. He’s the heir to a fortune, he’s charming, he respects women and he’s got an amazing arse. He’s the sort of non-threatening pin-up model you’d be happy to take home to meet your mother. That is, if you weren’t concerned your mother might not try and take him for herself.

This side to his character is demonstrated in Mikel Janín’s illustration for title page of Grayson #8: “Cross my heart and hope to die” published in 2014. The image depicts Dick Grayson demonstrating a gymnastic maneuver to seven teenage school girls during their gym class. He wears form fitting leggings and a sleeveless shirt, displaying his muscular physique. Meanwhile, the students wear a standard uniform for British Private School Girls: a red rugby shirt and white gym shorts. This helps depict both their social class and their social position. There is a text box at the top of the page which reads “...That doesn’t stop me from wanting to climb up on its Eiffel Tower.” Lower down on the page, a speech bubble depicts Dick saying “Ladies? Are you even paying attention? I swear.”

Janín’s layout is deliberately designed to draw attention to Dick’s butt. The support beams of the wall follow from the text box at the start of the top left of the panel, along to the right of the page and then straight down to the buttocks. The viewer then follows Dick’s legs down to take in the school girls whose attention is firmly set upon said buttocks. It is then their gaze that visually leads you down the rest of his body. The entire set up of the image is for the viewer to see Dick Grayson in the same sexual light as the teenagers do. It enforces Dick’s role within the DC Universe as a teenage heartthrob by showing just that, a line of teenaged girl whose hearts (and other parts) throb at the sight of him.

The fact that Dick’s legs lead you down along the line of students demonstrates that they have just as much importance within the image as Dick. Some would argue that this is an example of fan-service, that is to say, images simply put in place to titulate the consumer. However Janín has not drawn Dick with just the viewer in mind. He wants you to take in the school girls too, and see Dick from their point of view. Whilst this is still asking you to see him as a sexual figure, by having the overall view point be from above, the viewer is able to take step back from the scene, and allow us to also side with Dick. The viewer is meant to see the whole situation from a third-party perspective, yet still asks us to sympathise with the teenage girls crushing on their attractive gym teacher. If the purpose of the piece was for the viewer to sexualise Dick for themselves, his body would have a far more prominent feature, blocking out the girls entirely from view and posing in a more deliberately sexualised fashion, as opposed to the actual image where Dick is just going about his job in a conventional fashion, meaning there are no purple bikinis or broken spines in sight. Dick’s ignorance to the girls attraction towards him adds humour to the image, where his frustrations at their lack of attention are juxtaposed with their very real fascination with his body.

This use of humour helps to set a tone for the comic, wherein the reader is made to feel relaxed and amused by the content before it swiftly changes to something more serious. In the case of Grayson #8 it is one of the girls’ other mentors, a middle aged woman, screaming for help. While some might argue that the clear focus on Dick’s buttocks is purely for fan service, and so is an act of objectification on par with that shown towards female characters, the fact that the image genuinely helps progress the story suggests otherwise. The panel of Dick Grayson teaching gymnastics provides the reader with further insight into the characters’ personalities and roles within their society, whilst the general page layout sets up the pace and rhythm for the plot of the book. If it were just for fan service, it would have been easily removed from the story with no consequence.

However, it is true that one of the selling points of Dick Grayson is his sex appeal. Writers Gail Simone and Devin Grayson have both spoken about how they deliberately write Dick Grayson to have sex appeal. Simmone, who is probably most academically sited for her her women in refrigerators campaign (in which she points out the distressing prevalence for female characters to be brutally murdered in order to progress a male character’s story) as a comic book writer has often included sexualised male characters in her work, Dick Grayson being one of them. She argues that since there are enough female characters who are sexualised in the media, she therefore has said she needs “to have sexy characters who might appeal to more people” she wants “there to be characters for everyone” (Simone, 2014). It is important to note, that Simone does not specify that only women are sexually attracted towards these men, nor indeed that all women would be, simply that there in order to diversify audience, one needs to diversify character appeal. Whereas Simone’s approach may stem from a socio-political form of feminism, Grayson has a more capitalist approach. In an interview discussing Dick Grayson as a sex symbol, she suggested that not using the character as such is a serious marketing failure: “It’s astonishing to me that sexy male superheroes aren’t marketed as aggressively as sexy male vampires or sexy male boy bands. There’s obviously tons of money to be made there. There is no one on the planet that will devote more energy, social media advocacy, and money to a favoured cause than a smitten teenage girl.” (Grayson, 2015). Indeed, in editor Kate Kubert’s original pitch for Grayson, she described it as “a cool, slick, sexy spy book starring Dick Grayson” (Seeley, 2015). Dick Grayson’s sex appeal was always meant to be integral to the story.  

Therefore, it is not really a surprise that it is the the title page for Grayson #8 that draws such attention to Dick Grayson’s sexy arse. This could be interpreted as male objectification, since it is Dick’s highly attractive body that is being used to draw in readers to the series. Indeed, the bottom panel in particular is designed to make the reader turn the page and find out what is happening. The viewer is only shown a hint of what the woman is possibly holding, and that she is in complete distress. She is asking for help, and the reader assumes that Dick Grayson is going to be the one to provide it, though one would have to buy the book to find out more. It would naturally appeal to a female heterosexual audience to have an attractive male hero go and rescue a woman in need of aid. It is important to note, that whilst other comic series (and indeed spy films) also have attractive men saving women, what makes Dick Grayson stand out here is his more nurturing role. He is in the middle of teaching a class, not sipping a martini in a cassino. Furthermore it is the female gaze depicted here (almost literally in this case since the audience is partially sees Dick through the eyes of teenage girls) and not the male gaze. This is not a power fantasy where a strong dashing man jumps in and saves the simpering young blonde woman, this is a fantasy in which you witness the nice, handsome teacher come to the aid of a grey haired middle-aged woman. The first fantasy is decidedly that of a heterosexual man, the second of a heterosexual woman. Therefore, if the fantasy that is being presented revolves around Dick’s personality and abilities, it cannot be objectification, since you cannot objectify someone who has personhood.

Yet, even if this image is an example of objectification, the question arises of whether it is harmful objectification, or whether it is acceptable given the context. The sexual objectification of a character takes away their agency, their personality and treats them as nothing better than a particularly life like sex toy. The prevalence of this in female characters reflects upon a society that does not value women, or even consider them as people. Therefore, if Dick Grayson is being objectified, is it as dangerous as when female characters, such as Starfire, are objectified? Dick Grayson already has an established character that goes back over 75 years, and as a rich white-passing (Grayson confirms him to be Romani in decent) cis-man has been granted narrative privileges that other characters have not been. Dick Grayson has always been empowered and valued by readers and creators, so objectifying him every now and then is not going to do too much harm to his overall characterisation, nor help maintain an existing real life precedent for a social inequality.

Dick Grayson’s sexualisation in Grayson #8 is a satirical commentary based upon just that. The book came out in an environment where criticism of female objectification and sexualisation in comic books was starting to become a more publicly discussed issue. 2012 saw the beginning of The Hawkeye Initiative which looked at how female characters were drawn in comics and parodied them by drawing Marvel’s Clint Barton (A.K.A Hawkeye) in the same pose. The campaign was widely celebrated across the internet, though many creators (predominantly male) were insulted by the disrespect shown to the original creators. Of course, part of the project was to disrespect the original creators by displaying how sexist their original drawings were, so to that extent, their reaction was incredibly valid. However, the spirit of the initiative was always to encourage conversation in a light hearted, humourous fashion that did not single out any one creator. Grayson #8 demonstrates the exact same humorous approach. The image does not speak to how Dick Grayson is purely a sex object, or oppressed in any way, it speaks of an understanding that it’s about time the playing field was evened out; that heterosexual women and gay men should have someone they too can fantasise about. It welcomes you to join the teenagers in admiring Dick, and let’s you understand that doing so is harmless and fun. This also helps to subvert a classic spy movie trope, where the male protagonist treats the female heroine as nothing but an object of desire, and she is shot from angles that only accentuate those elements. It is clear that when Kubert asked Seeley to create her a “sexy spy book” (Seeley, 2015) it was Dick Grayson who would be providing the sexy, and not his female co-stars.

As discussed in Camille Bacon-Smith’s seminal 1992 work on Fan Studies Enterprising Women, fandom has often been used as a tool for female sexual exploration, and though Bacon-Smith views this from a slightly more critical outsider’s perspective, more recent studies that have come from within fandom itself, and have shown the way it can help people develop an understanding of their sexuality in a safe manner. This has become particularly true for teenage fans, who often use fan-works to explore these parts of themselves. It is especially important to have these spaces celebrated, since teenage girls’ sexuality is often ridiculed elsewhere in popular media. From Stephanie Meyer to Ringo Starr, actors, musicians and writers have all been pushed to the side as irrelevant just because they’re popular amongst teenage girls, and the quality of their work is assumed straight away to be nonsense just based upon their fanbase. Yet, as Grayson said, it is these same fans who will show the utmost dedication and passion (Grayson, 2015) for works that speak to them, and treat them with respect. That is exactly what is being shown in Grayson #8, teenage girls who have sexualised fantasies about non-threatening men, where it is not presented as a set up to a Lolita-esc story of peodophillia. Dick Grayson is not interested in these girls sexually, the girls understand that they will not be entering into sexual relations with him, but that does not stop them from enjoying looking at him and fantasising about him in a safe manner.  Even if their attention is unwanted, the girls cannot harm Dick Grayson and Dick Grayson will not harm them. It could be argued, that the humourous feel to the piece is mocking the girls for their sexuality, and asking the reader to laugh at them, not with them. However, the fact that the layout of the work has such a focus on Dick Grayson’s bottom, and that the page begins with one of the girl’s own comment of sexual innuendo about him as a sexy Eiffel Tower she wishes to climb (King, 2014), it is clear that the viewer is being asked to side with these teenagers and agree, that yes, if Dick Grayson was the Eiffel Tower, you too would gladly climb up it and enjoy that glorious view.

To conclude, Grayson #8’s Title Page is an example of how female sexuality (in particularly, that of teenage girls) can be celebrated in comic books in a fun and safe manner. The title page treats the character with respect and dignity, whilst still nodding to an fan base that have dedicated entire blogs to pictures of his butt. The image is tongue-in-cheek about it’s approach to the celebration of Dick Grayson’s bottom, however it is done with respect to both character and reader. Whilst some might argue that this is objectification, the existing social and historical structures within the industry and western society as whole negate this. It has now become an important act of feminist action to have such characters within comic books. Equal opportunity between the sexes, requires equal opportunity to celebrate sexuality. Dick Grayson’s butt in tight lycra is not going to change the world over night, but it is certainly a very good place to start. Grayson is not the first series to celebrate Dick Grayson’s bottom and share it in all it’s peach like glory, and it is unlikely to be the last, yet, much like Dick Grayson, it is still a beautiful piece of work that shall no doubt be cherished for the ages.

References:

Holy Robin Batman! The Wednesday Club, 9th August 2017 (Available on Geek and Sundry’s Twitch and Projectalpha.com)

http://comicsalliance.com/tim-seeley-grayson-nightwings-dc-comics-interview/

http://comicsalliance.com/why-is-nightwing-hot/

http://comicsalliance.com/comics-sexiest-male-characters/

https://www.themarysue.com/gail-simone-nightwing-butt/

https://www.cbr.com/seeley-king-enter-the-dcus-espionage-world-in-grayson/

https://journal.transformativeworks.org/index.php/twc/article/view/460/384

http://www.upenn.edu/pennpress/book/77.html

[everlastingcaptainswan]

Since We’re Alone (10/?)

Celebrity fake dating AU 

Summary: Killian Jones punched another bouncer in the face and Emma Swan threatened the paparazzi who got too close to her. With both their reputations at risk their managers pull together a deal that sure to gain them better press coverage. Who can resist watching two attractive people fall in love? 

Notes: Hey all! I know it's been awhile since I posted an update, but my inspiration for this story has finally returned! Hope you guys like it.

Ao3       FF 

Chapter 10: The Brother 

Killian hates the fact that he has to get on the plane, but he is cutting it close as it is and if he didn’t make this plane Regina would surely kill him. The band has more promotion for the album and rehearsals for the tour to do, which he has to absolutely be there for. He hates leaving Emma. They worked it out and are in a better place now, but it doesn’t mean he will miss her any less.

Killian sleeps for most of this flight because he has to head straight to Regina and Robin’s house once he lands. When he gets there Robin answers the door and gives him an expectant look.

“Well?” Robin asks.

“Well what?” Killian asks, egging on his friend.

“You bloody well know what! You ran off after an interview to see Emma in Paris to win her back,” Robin says raising his voice. Killian just laughs.

“My god Rob, you can’t take teasing anymore huh?” Killian says as he walks in and Robin shuts the door behind him. His friend just glares at him waiting for an answer.

“We made up. It was a big misunderstanding in which we both apologized. Everything’s good,” Killian tells him and Robin pats him on the back.

“Good, I hope you’re ready to work,” Regina says entering the room, “You’ve got a tour to rehearse for.”

“That we do. Robin, is Will here, yet?” Killian asks, ignoring Regina altogether. Robin shakes his head.

“Killian, you’re going to have to talk to me someday,” Regina says in a huff.

“Tell your wife that when she apologizes to Emma I’ll speak to her again. Now, we have work to do, I’ll be in the studio for whenever Scarlet decides to grace us with his presence,” Killian calls out as he walks away from the married couple. Regina gives Robin an exacerbated look.

“Will you please talk to him?” Regina asks.

“I have and he’s firm on this point,” Robin shakes his head, before kissing his wife on the cheek and following Killian. Regina turns on her heel stomping back into her office before slamming her office door.

“Killian,” Robin sighs when he catches up to him.

“Don’t Killian me. Look, I get she’s your wife and you’re trying to help, but she hurt the woman I love and almost wrecked our relationship. I’m asking for an apology, which you know isn’t a crazy demand.” Robin just blinks at Killian.

“Does Emma know?”

“Does she know what?” Killian asks as his temper fades and confusion takes its place.

“That you love her,” Robin says calmly. A slight blush crosses Killian’s cheeks.

“Aye, she does,” he scratches his ear and Robin just smirks.

“Good for you mate.” Not long after Will finally shows up, earning a fair amount of shit from Killian about his tardiness. Will starts to dish it back when Robin stops him.

“Don’t be too hard on Killian the woman he loves is across the ocean,” Robin teases Killian, who rolls his eyes.

“You’re a nosey lot. I never should I have told this gossip anything,” Killian grumbles, nodding towards Robin.

“Ah so you’ve admitted it then?” Will asks and Killian nods, “Good, it was getting hard to watch you try and cover up the fact you’re in love with her.”

“You knew?” Killian asks them.

“We all knew,” Robin comments and Will just rolls his eyes. Killian just shakes his head in wonder before they set off to work. Through the next two weeks the band worked hard through rehearsals. The band had finally finished up all the promotion for the album. Killian woke early and went to bed late nearly every day. Between the time change and their hectic schedules Emma and Killian had little time to talk. It seemed as though the couple was caught in a game of phone tag. They had to stay in touch primarily through text, which Emma wasn’t fond of because she missed the sound of his voice, but it was all they could seem to manage. Although Emma does get a rather exciting and seductive voicemail from Killian when she sends him some pictures of her new lingerie purchases. Emma makes sure to save that voicemail for later, much later when she’s alone in her hotel room. With a reaction like that she learned to hate texting him just a little bit less.

Zelena is pushing Emma and Graham harder than ever. Emma however, doesn’t mind because they are now ahead of schedule, almost a whole week ahead. If they finish earlier than expected Emma will get more time with Killian before the tour. Of course she hasn’t mentioned this to him yet because Emma doesn’t want to jinx it. Also a part of her wants to surprise her boyfriend. Emma just hopes it all works out in the end.

Killian gets a call from Liam later that week.

“I was waiting for you to tell me, but I guess I have to drag it out of you,” Liam huffs in frustration.

“What are you on about?” Killian asks, confused.

“It was in the tabloids that you were in Paris two weeks ago. You couldn’t pop over and visit your brother?”

“Liam, it wasn’t a vacation I was there for less than twenty four hours. If I had stayed any longer Regina would’ve been after my head if I didn’t make it back for all the promotion shit she booked for the band,” Killian explains.

“It’s cause I’m not a leggy blonde movie star isn’t it?” Liam teases him. Killian just rolls his eyes. Of course the prat called just to be an ass.

“Only you would call to give me a hard time. Were you even mad?”

“No, I know you’re busy. I just wanted to see how to react.”

“Prat,” Killian mumbles.

“That’s what big brothers are for,” Killian chuckles and they chat about Liam’s upcoming trip.

“When does your flight land?”

“I believe around three next Wednesday.”

“Alright, I’ll be there to pick up your sorry ass.”

“Good, see you then little brother,” Liam teases him once again.

“Younger, but yeah see you then.” Killian corrects him before they exchange their goodbyes. The brothers like to tease each other, but it’s been a long time since they have seen each other and they are both looking forward to this trip. Killian is excited for his brother’s trip, but he wishes that Liam could meet Emma. Unfortunately she’ll still be in Paris. They’ll have to make some time to visit Liam after the tour.

Despite his fame and popularity Killian always insists on picking his brother up from the airport. It seems ridiculous to pay someone to drive to LAX when he has a extremely nice car that he can drive himself. This frustrates Regina to no end. The day of his brother’s arrival the band ends rehearsal early so Killian can make it out there on time.

The moment Liam spots Killian he can see something weighing on his little brother’s shoulders. Liam immediately brings his brother in close, patting Killian’s back. When they break apart Killian gives him an odd look.  Liam shakes his head and slings his arm over Killian’s shoulders. The brothers both know by this point someone has recognized Killian, so they quickly walk to the car. As soon as the car door shuts Liam turns on Killian.

“Now, do you care to tell me what’s going on or do I have to drag it out of you?” Liam says, cutting to the chase.

“Am I that obvious?” Killian asks scratching his ear.

“Just to me, brother.” Liam simply waits for Killian to tell him what is wrong with him. Killian starts the car and pulls out of the parking space. He doesn’t begin telling his story until they’ve left the parking lot. Killian tells him everything about the set up, about how things progressed with Emma, how he fell for her hard, how she ran and he went after her. Killian tells him  everything. Liam quietly listens to his brother the whole time. They are stuck in traffic on the freeway when Killian is done telling recent events. Silence fills the car for a few minutes before Liam speaks again.

“I knew something was going on with you, but I had no idea it was something like this. I was so wrapped up in work I thought you’d tell me if it was big. You were writing the album and normally when you do that you just lose yourself in the music, I thought it was that. I should’ve asked more questions. I should’ve been there for you,” Liam shakes his head.

“Don’t blame yourself. I’m sorry I should’ve been straight with you, I shouldn’t have lied, but I didn’t know how you’d feel about it.” Killian’s gaze unable to meet Liam’s.

“Killian, all I have ever wanted is for you to be happy. I might not have understood this publicity stuff, but I would have supported you. I only have two questions for you now. Do you love her?” Killian nods, “Does she love you?” Killian nods again, “That’s all that matters to me.”

“All right.”

For most of the next week after rehearsals in the morning Killian takes Liam do something around L.A., which does include DisneyLand. Emma requests all the pictures she can get her hands on she only gets one selfie of the brothers much to her dismay, but Killian promise to take her when she gets back. Emma urges Killian to make use of her beach house, insisting that someone should use it while she’s gone. Killian takes her up on the offer and she tells him where the spare key is hidden. Liam seems unsure of the trip the whole way over.

“Killian, are you sure she won’t mind?” he asks nervously wringing his hands.

“Liam, untwist your swim trunks, it was her idea. Why are you being so odd about this?” Killian asks as they let themselves in to grab some towels and a beach umbrella. Liam just shrugs, but Killian keeps an eye on him. Liam is still fidgeting when they get settled on the beach.

“What the hell is your problem?” Killian asks him, barely raising his voice.

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

“Your fidgeting too much, just spit it out.”

“This trip it was more than just to see you. I mean it was mostly to see you, but I’m thinking of leaving the navy and I have an interview tomorrow with a private security firm,” He says quickly as if that would somehow change what he was saying. Killian looks his brother dead on with a little shock in his expression.

“I will always support you in whatever you do, but why do you want to leave?” Killian asks.

“It’s all the politics. The things people will do to get ahead, to get a promotion,” Liam shakes his head, “I just can’t do it anymore. I can’t stand by and let it happen. There is no honor, nothing is straightforward.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I had no idea it was that bad, that you were struggling.” Killian props himself up on his elbows, looking over to his brother.

“We all have our secrets,” Liam says with an all to knowing look.

“Do you think private security is where you’ll be happy?”

“That’s what I’m here to find out. If so we’ll be a lot closer. I’ll have plenty of time to annoy you even more,” Liam jokes, playfully shoving his brother. Killian rolls his eyes.

“I was going to day it’d be nice to have you around, but now I’m not so sure,” Killian teases.

“Nah, you love me,” Liam smirks. Killian nods, lying back to soak up the sun. The brothers enjoy the rest of their day on the private beach.

While Killian is at rehearsal the next day Liam has his interview. He comes to find out that he loves the company and the position they offer him. The money isn’t bad either. He accepts the position and plans to give his notice the moment he returns home.

When Liam tells Killian, he insists that Liam stay with him when he moves here. They celebrate his new job by throwing a small party with Ruby, Robin, Regina, Will, and of course little Roland. They take advantage of the nice weather and barbeque on the patio at Killian’s house.

“Ruby, what are you up to?” Killian glares playfully at his friend.

“What makes you think I’m up to anything?” She asks with a wolfish grin.

“You’re far too quiet over there,” he says before sipping his drink.

“Sounds like you’re a little paranoid over there my friend,” she teases, Killian just shakes his head.

“Are you ever goin’ to bring Dorothy around because I’m startin’ to thing you’ve made her up,” Will asks her, changing the subject.

“She’s very real and filming on location right now. Anyway you lot couldn’t handle her yet,” she smirks. Killian isn’t wrong, she up to something, but Ruby knows Killian has no idea what or should she say who is coming for him right now.

Emma may be exhausted and tired, but she’ll be damned if she doesn’t get to surprise her boyfriend like she’s been planning to for weeks now. She clued Ruby in on her surprise, so her friend could tell her what the band was up to tonight. Emma had Ruby make sure the door was unlocked, so Emma could easily slip in unnoticed. The car drops her off at the gate. Emma easily punches in her code, so it swings open to let her in.

As soon as she slips in the front door Emma can hear the laughter coming from the patio. She drops her bag and walks to the back door. Killian is standing with his back to her, next to a slightly taller man who she can only assume is Liam, who is manning the grill. Will and Robin see her and their jaws drop, she waves at them.

“Killian, your brother flies all the way here and you put him to work, I thought he was here to relax,” Emma calls out across the patio. Killian’s head snaps to her. Emma smiles and runs toward him and he does the same. Emma jumps into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist. Killian holds onto her tightly. She buries her head into his neck. It feels right to be in his arms, there is nowhere else she’d rather be. When she pulls back he surges forward and kisses her intensely. When they break apart she smiles down at him.

“Did you miss me?” she chuckles and he just tightens his grip on her.

“You bloody well know I did,” he tells her. Ruby coughs and they are reminded that they have an audience, luckily Roland is in the bathroom with Regina, so they haven’t traumatized him yet. Emma and Killian disentangle themselves. Liam steps forward.

“You must be Emma, Killian never stops talking about you,” Liam sticks his hand out and Emma shakes it, “I’m Liam it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you as well,” she smiles and their hands drop. Emma knew Liam was in town she was so focused on seeing Killian she forgot that she would actually have to meet Killian’s only remaining family. Killian simply slips his arm around her waist, his comforting touch calming her nerves.

The group continues on with some small talk and Emma learns that Liam is moving here. She couldn’t be happier for Killian, she knows it’s been hard on him to be so far away from his brother. This will be good for him. Will and Killian get wrapped up in a rather passionate discussion about the tour they have coming up. Liam nods over to a spot away from the group and Emma follows his lead.

“Emma, you seem like a nice girl and good for my brother, but I’ve got to get this out,” he staring her head on, puffing out his chest.

“Is this your protective brother speech?” She asks and he nods, “Well go on I know David gave one to Killian, so this only fair.” Liam just chuckles and nods.

“I was there after Milah died and Emma it was bad. I mean I’d call to check in on him everyday bad. Now he’s back to his normal self, but I know it still haunts him so please don’t hurt him I don’t think he could make it through losing you.” Liam says quickly and quietly. Emma gives him a soft smile.

“I don’t want to hurt him and I wouldn’t make it through losing him either. I have no intention of going anywhere,” she tells him.

“Good,” he smiles. He raises his glass to hers and their glasses clink before they drink.

Ruby strolls up to interrupt the bands conversation.

“Killian, you just left poor Emma to be interrogated your brother?” She shakes her head in mock distaste. The group looks over to where Emma and Liam have moved to. Liam has a stern look on his face and Emma’s face is blank at the moment.

“Emma’s strong and she doesn’t need me to fight her battles for her, but don’t worry I will save her before Liam launches into a navy story,” he smirks. Robin chuckles. Ruby just rolls her eyes. Killian joins them a moment later slipping his hand into hers. Emma smiles at his presence.

“Your brother here was just about to tell me a story from the navy.” He chuckles knowing how hard she was trying to stay engaged in the conversation.

“Ah so I’ve rescued you just in time then,” Killian teases and Liam looks shocked. Emma tries to protest but Liam speaks before she can.

“Oi my navy stories aren’t that bad!” Killian just raises an eyebrow at this.

“Of course whatever you say brother,” Killian just shakes his head. Regina finally returns to the patio, but without little Roland. She returns to Robin’s side and he slips his arm around her waist.

“Roland was getting fussy, so I put him to bed in one of the guest rooms,” Regina answers Robin’s questioning looks. Regina’s eyes finally land on Emma and she raises an eyebrow.

“Oh Miss Swan you’ve returned. Hopefully you can talk Killian out of his childish notions of not talking to me,” she says before crossing her arms. Emma gives Killian a questioning look. He just blushes under her gaze.

“I won’t talk to her until she apologizes to you,” Killian mumbles. Emma raises her eyebrows at this.

“Well that’s a little ridiculous, but a nice sentiment. There is no need to apologize you were doing your job,” Emma tells him.

“Good, now we cleared up that mess I think it’s time for the two of us to have a talk,” Regina tells her and Emma nods. Regina walks inside away from the rest of the group and Emma kisses Killian’s cheek before following Regina inside. Emma has no clue what Regina wants to talk about away from everyone else. Once the door from the patio slides shut behind Emma, Regina turns on her heel to face Emma.

“Look, I know you’re mad about the PI, but they found out something that I think you’ll want to know,” Regina says, calmly. Emma crosses her arms. She should try and put her son out of her mind, he doesn’t need her snooping around his life. He has parents who are loving and take good care of him.

“What did they find?” Emma asks. She knows that she should leave him to live his life, but she needs to know what Regina knows. Her curiosity got the better of her.

“Henry’s adoptive parents just died in a car crash and they had no other living relatives that can take care of him. He’s about to go into the foster system,” Regina tells her.

[davidbuddbg]

Chapter 1: What if it’s worth it?

6 months later

Don’t get me wrong, I was happy for this internship opportunity and never in a million years did I expect I would actually land it. But here I was, realizing that waking up this early every day wasn’t for me.

I was already on my desk when I looked through the window and saw Julia’s car pull up. Kim was already waiting for her, but she wasn’t alone, there was a man next to her. Oh well, none of my business.

As soon as the elevator landed on my floor, I heard Chanel annoying’s voice and I simply knew that she had already managed to get Julia in a bad mood before she could even reach her office.

But they weren’t alone in the elevator. “Shit!”, I muttered under my breath when I recognized the guy from the bridge. I didn’t think he had already seen me, so as long as he never did, things wouldn’t get awkward.

Suddenly there was a knock on my door, it was Susan, Julia’s secretary. “Hello Alma, she wants to speak with you now but let me warn you, she’s in a bad mood.”

I sighed before getting up. Not because I was scared of Julia, she was actually really kind to me, but I realized I would need to walk past him to get to her office.

I knew he wasn’t staring directly at me, but I knew he saw me. And for some reason, I was worried I would trip and fall in front of him, which luckily didn’t happen.

I knocked on her glass door twice, between letting myself in. “Good morning, ma’am.”

“Good morning, Alma,” she greeted me without bothering to look up from her computer, “take a seat.”

“Considering your abilities with European law, I was wondering if you could draft up the consequences in terms of State responsibility if the RIPA-18 were to violate the ECHR and EU law?”

“Sure thing ma’am,” I nodded.

“You know you can call me Julia when it’s just the two of us.”

I left her office as I could when I realized Budd’s (that was his name!) attention was currently being directed at the western side of the room. I walked hurriedly past him, in the direction of the break room.

I relaxed when I entered the empty room and couldn’t hear steps behind me. Feeling lighter, I went to the coffee machine to get myself a drink.

“What are you doing here, Alma?” His Scottish accent filled the room and almost spilled the hot drink on my dress.

“I like to come here when no one else is taking their break because I don’t want to know I drink hot chocolate.” I replied before turning around to face him. Damn, he did look great when he wasn’t going through some shit! “The question is, what are you doing here?”

Budd was still standing next to the door, seemingly confused at my answer. “I’m the Home Secretary’s PPO. But why are you here, in the building?”

“Oh, as a part of my LLM I have to do an internship in the area of diplomatic relations and politics.” The room went silent again which made me exceptionally uncomfortable. “Good luck on your new position! Happy to see things are working out better for you,” I said in high debit, trying to leave the room before things became even more awkward.

Budd grabbed my arm just as I was leaving. He was definitely too close and I could feel his breath on my skin, and I couldn’t decide whether the fact that this bothered me was good or bad. “Thank you for being so kind to me back in April, Alma. I won’t forget that.” He spoke before nodding. I didn’t like the fact that hearing say my name got me feeling warm but his hand was still on my arm and I couldn’t escape.

“No problem, mate.” I spoke way too cheerfully for the situation and looking up, I noticed that his blue eyes were fixed on me, on my face, and yet he seemed so far away. “Have a nice day!” I said loudly before pulling my arm from him, and disappearing through the door.

Although the rest of day went by calmly and the task I had been given wasn’t too difficult but still interesting, I could shake off the uneasiness off me. I didn’t think I’d ever see him again after that night, and especially not here, in the Home Office.

But that isn’t what made me uneasy, it was knowing that I would be unbothered in this situation if I didn’t care about him at all.

I stopped for takeaway on my way home and when I arrived on my floor, James was sleeping in front of the door.

“What are you doing here, James?” I asked with confusion before opening the door and letting us in. I let him make himself at home and I dressed down into something more comfortable.

“It’s Wednesday. We always meet on Wednesday and I brought food!” Oh fuck, that’s right, I completely forgot.

“Sorry I forgot. I’m just really tired these days,” I explained now looking at both takeaway bags on the coffee table. “It just means we’ll have more food,” I mentioned lightly, trying to shrug it off, sitting down on the sofa when James arrived from the kitchen with two glasses.

“Do you want to talk about it?” James offered. He sat down on the couch next to me and I turned on the TV to watch a show on Netflix.

“James, we’re sexbuddies. We eat takeout, we watch Netflix, we fuck but we certainly do not talk about our worries,” I said, repeated the rules that had been in place from the very beginning and that we knew by hard now. And yet next to me, James seemed a bit disappointed as a he took the first bite of food.

James left around midnight, earlier than usual but it suited me perfectly: I wanted to get a good night’s sleep before tomorrow.

-----

Julia and I were being driven to the BBC studios, Budd and the driver were in the front. Julia was going over the bullet points before the interview, but I couldn’t focus on anything. First, because the moment I read in a moving car, I get sick. Second, because a few seconds ago I had spotted Budd staring at me through the front mirror and for some reason, it made me happy.

“Alma,” Julia said after a minute, bringing me back from my thoughts. She was pointing at some lines on the paper sheet in front of her, namely the ones with statistics about how RIPA-18 would improve homeland security. “Remind me to speak with Rob about this without going on air, I think these are wrong.”

“I will, ma’am.”

We arrived at the studios and as usual, McDonald was already there.

“Ma’am, I wanted to remind of you going over the number with McDonald again.” I spoke before taking of my glasses to rub my eyes and sitting down on one of the sofas. As usual, Budd was still standing which just made me realize I could never pull this off.

“Ah yes, thank you Alma.” Rob and her were now in the deep discussion and I texted Chanel to know where she was. Just like always, she was late. Then I directed my attention to Budd. From I was sitting, I could see part of his back which reminded my that Budd’s butt was really something to be noticed.

Suddenly, Chanel came walking in, hurriedly, with coffees in her hands. Just as she was handing one to Julia, she tripped and spilled it on her blouse. I rolled my eyes. Chanel.

Expectedly, Julia became mad and then Rob became mad when Chanel didn’t offer to trade her blouse with Julia. Daring a look sideways, I noticed Budd was becoming increasingly nervous and the noise resulting from the situation was rendering me nervous as well.

Sighing, I walked up to them. “Ma’am, please take my dress. It won’t be a perfect fit but it’s still better than nothing.” I wasn’t sure she would accept, I had never even seen Julia in a dress.

“Thank you, Alma, that’s very nice.” Without thinking, I unzipped my dress before taking it off and handing it to Julia. And then as the cold air hit my skin, did I realize that I was standing in the middle of the room dressed in nothing more than a bra, panties and stockings.

Making things even more awkward, Budd approached me from behind and put his blazer on my shoulders, his fingers brushing my naked skin.

We were now all standing silently on a badly shaped circle. Chanel was looking at me with such hate, I wondered if I was in her mean book.

“PS Budd,” Julia spoke, her voice calmer than I would have expected, “bring Alma to the car, I know she forgot her long coat in there.” Without anything else, she left us to go do her interview.

“Yes, ma’am.” David replied.

The walk through the long corridor to the elevator was bizarre. First, Budd’s smell enveloped me and that felt quite arousing. Second, everyone we passed stared at me weirdly which made put his arm around my shoulders. Third, did he just call Julia “mom”? Was she his mom?

“It’s alright, love.” He whispered so low against my ear that I couldn’t be sure I heard the last word right.

Inside the small space of the elevator, our bodies were almost touching and I didn’t need to look at him to know he was looking at me. “So, why did you call her mom?”

“What?” He asked, only after a few seconds, which only proved that he had been distracted and which now had me feeling smug. “I didn’t call her mom, I called her ma’am.”

“Oh yes, that’s more logical. Sorry, I just got confused in there for a moment,” I admitted before laughing and my jiggling breasts caught Budd’s attention. He was still looking at them when the elevator stopped with an irritating ping and Budd cleared his throat.

Downstairs, Budd grabbed my coat from the car and handed it to me, just as I return his. As I was now more decently dressed, Budd seemed to become somewhat normal again. Still not chatty, but I suppose he only became so after a few drinks.

“Thank you for your blazer. That was very nice,” I mentioned, breaking the silence. He was still struggling with readjusting the wires of the earpiece around the collar. “Here, let me help you.” He didn’t reply but still down in front of me so I could untangle the cables. Each time my fingers touched his skin, he shivered.

Back upstairs, we listened to Julia’s interview. Next to me, I noticed Budd’s jaw tightening as she mentioned war on the Middle East. And then I remembered: Helmand, Afghanistan. Without a thought, I grabbed Budd’s left hand and gave it a small squeeze. Surprisingly, he didn’t pull it away during the entire interview. If anything, he even tightened his hand around mine when Julia announced that she and the UK wouldn’t apologize for the past.

And for the rest of that day, Budd became even less chatty than usual.

-----

The next day, I almost fell asleep on my desk. The previous night had been unrestful. First, I got woken up by a text from James while I was having a very nice dream about myself, Budd, and some Netflix and Chill. Then, as I went to sleep to try and continue it, I ended up having a nightmare instead: Me, at war in Afghanistan.

However, my day seemed to be improving: I finished up the report on the risks of RIPA-18 on a European level and Julia told me Chanel would be fired. However, I didn’t expect her to make such a tantrum they had to call Budd upstairs while he was on his break.

As soon as he stepped out of the elevator, I could see relief wash over his face as he realized that there was no real threat, just a spoiled brat acting like a spoiled brat, and making even more noise than a real Dyson.

But I also noticed that Budd wasn’t okay. His hands were shaking and his neck was gleaming with cold sweat. PTSD, I realized.

Later that afternoon, I accompanied Julia and Rob to the House of Commons. As Julia was in a heated discussion with her ex-husband, Roger Penhaligon, I walked up to Budd.

“I saw what happened this morning,” I whispered, standing just next to him so nobody would listen in on us. “I’m no professional, but if you want to talk, I’m here. PTSD can be treated.”

Instead of thanking me for my offer, Budd’s jaw tightened and it was as if he was trying not to yell at me. “Funny thing you would say that, knowing what book you have next to your bed,” he whispered sharply, and the words stung.

It took me a while to realize what he was talking about. It was the thesis I was working on about jus in bello, jus ad bellum, which simply meant the law of war. And although it hurt, I could understand where it was coming from.

With that, he stopped talking to me.

[jc-travels-the-world]

Pre-Service Training (PST)

Ten weeks. Ten weeks studying Romanian. Ten weeks full of learning how to teach English in Moldova. Ten weeks living with a Moldovan family. Ten weeks getting to know my government-issued family. Ten weeks trying to figure out: what am I doing in Moldova?!

A general week during PST for me looked like the following:

·      Every day, regardless of what time I needed to be somewhere, I was awake sometime between 445a to 530a.  I would lay in bed, wander my house a bit, talk to family and friends that were awake back home, or other volunteers who also struggled to stay asleep at such an ungodly hour. Some days I was able to fall back asleep until 645a.

·      Monday to Wednesday, and Friday:

o   I would start to get ready for school at 7a. I would have a cup of ceai (tea) with mama around 710a. At 720a I would finish packing up my school bag. 730a Diamond and I would start our trek to school. I say trek, but we had the flattest and one of the shortest walks. But, often times a dog would follow us. He wasn’t a bad dog, we just weren’t the biggest fans. We would arrive to school at about 750a. This is when I would eat breakfast that mama packed for me, usually a filled croissant.

o   I had Romanian from 8a to 12p. We were split into two classes. Five in one and five in another. Halfway through PST one of our teachers had to leave and they sent a teacher from one of the HE villages. HE got three teachers for more intensive training, EE only got two, so it evened out.

o   From 12p to 130p I would have a lunch break. The other EE training village would take a rutiera to my village. I would eat my lunch waiting for the other village then I’d share my left overs with whoever didn’t get lunch that day or was still hungry. Once done with lunch, Alleyce, who came from the other village, and I would often go for a twenty minute or so walk. We knew that the next four hours were going to be long and we needed to make sure we had the energy to get through!

o   We would have technical training; training for when we go to site and teach. Tech sessions began at 130p and were supposed to end at 530p, but that did not always happen. There’s always more to learn. Topics varied greatly: from panels from current serving volunteers (M31s and M32, and one M30!), classes on multilevel classrooms, and how to teach grammar. I have many books, a notebook, and a large binder to review when needed!

·      Thursday: Hubsite Day, where all Trainees would be in the raion center for group training, usually medical and security related.

o   I would start to get ready for my day at 6a. Ceai, packing my school bag, getting money for the rutiera ready. At 630a, Diamond and I would walk to the bus stop. There were a few in town and the first half of the summer we all met at the one by the school then the second half we all took it wherever was closest to our house. Diamond and I would take it in centru since it was just past the bridge by our houses.

§  I will always remember the first day we took it alone. We got to the stop and 30 seconds later a rutiera showed up. We both got seats, there was good music playing, free wifi, and the driver was in a full out suit. So fancy, probably the first and last time I’ll see that!

o   We would arrive around 715-730a at Hubsite. We would all hang out and talk to the other volunteers that we hadn’t seen in a week. Sometimes I would hang out in the gazebo outside, I’d play uno or another card game, or hangout inside and just chat with people.

o   At 830a sessions would begin.

o   At around 5p it would be over. Once it was decided who was staying in the Raion centre and who was headed back to the village we would depart for the bus stop! Trying to catch a rutiera is a fun experience. The shortest time we waited was only maybe ten minutes, while the longest was about 90 minutes (I’m estimating because it was hot and we were all cranky, so I don’t actually know how long we waited).

·      Saturday:

o   Thankfully a short day! Morning began similar to M-W&F. Romanian class began at 8a. Then would end at 12p. After 12p we would have a weekly evaluation. First we were given a paper to self-evaluate on a scale of 1-5 with where we believe we were at on the listed topics; ranging from vocabulary, grammar, and pronunciation. Then we would go to whichever teacher we had that week and have a quick discussion and see what they score us as. We discussed where we feel we are at, how our stay in village is, and any concerns or questions we may have, whether it be about Peace Corps or Moldovan culture. Most of the time I would get sternly talked to about how I need to stop speaking English at home and speak only Romanian, but knowing me…if given a crutch, I will use it!

·      Average Afternoon and Evening:

o   It all depended on the day but most days after being in school I would head straight home. Always exhausted. I would hang out with my family. We would chat, eat dinner, and just live life. I enjoyed it a lot. This bonding is what made my life in PST wonderful.

o   Some days all of us Trainees from my village would go to the magazin for chips or ice cream (or often times both).

o   In the evenings Diamond and I would take walks together, Ana-Maria would join us. When she was not around, Danu joined us. Then sometimes Jorge would join us, or walk with one of us if the other wasn’t available. It was funny, I will discuss it later, but towards the end of our stay we were too exhausted and busy to walk. Even in the mornings during Practice School we would go separately because our schedules were so different. People would stop Diamond on her walk to ask why she was alone and where I was because we were always just out walking.

o   A couple of Saturday evenings Ana-Maria and I made ourselves a movie night. For Before the second one I took out my hot chocolate packets and we made microwave brownies with everyone at the house. It was fun!

·      Sunday

o   Now, these were supposed to be our rest day but I believe I really only had one, MAYBE two, Sundays where I actually rested. As always, I was awake before the sun. But, since I did not always HAVE to wake up for a few hours, I would force myself back to sleep.

o   Some of the most fun I had was on Sundays.

§  I went to raion center with my family and I bought a beautiful, fitted lemon dress and a long, heavy black skirt (each for 100 lei! Quite the steal!).

§  We went to Chisinau and walked A LOT. Diamond joined us and we went to Ethnographic museum, walked where there was a lot of photos for weddings. We walked along the water and found where the beach was. We ate lunch at “Fancy Annie’s”, as Jorge called it. (It’s actually called Andy’s Pizza, but it’s the fanciest one in town and someone called it Fancy Andy’s, but he misheard it. Haha)

§  One Sunday was spent at my future permanent site. I got the opportunity to meet my partner and host family. I will go into more detail about that in a later post.

§  I went to Chisinau with Alleyce and her Host Granddaughter and met up with her friend while there. We started at the PC office since I wanted to raid the loot me room. I ended up getting a shirt, a sweater (from Target), a pair of worn black jeans, and a skirt (also from Target). In the pants I found 20 lei, so my ride home was paid for! After, we went to a bunch of different restaurants and an art museum. That was one of the funniest evenings. We showed up for the last rutiera out of the capital to our village and there was a crowd of people waiting to get on. Among the crowd was another volunteer and trainee. Turns out this one was full and the last one was broken down. While waiting to figure out what to do another trainee shows up also needing to get home. There was no way out. The four of us, who I had been with all day, end up sprinting through Chisinau to try and get to another rutiera that passes by both of our villages. When we arrived, it was gone. So we hopped on another rutiera that at least gets us to the raion center. While waiting for it to leave, the other trainees and volunteer arrive. There weren’t enough seats so they had to stand. We get to the raion center, and thankfully, Alleyce’s host brother had a van and he came to get us! So all of us piled into the van and got home safely!

§  Another day, Sebastian came over from another village and we hung out with my fam. We were getting ready for the Language Proficiency Interview (LPI). I was so nervous. Because it was a week after Practice School ended I was not at my best, so having someone to practice with helped a bit!

§  Another Sunday was spent celebrating Katie’s birthday by a lake. It started with me doing my Letter of Commitment. Mama made a bunch of pizza, thinking that Beatrice would be home, Danu and his friend would be over. But that didn’t happen. So, it was just me and mama. Then, Katie and Angela were going to meet at Diamond’s place, but Nana Mila brought Diamond over to eat pineapple. The pineapple wasn’t ripe enough so Diamond ate some pizza. Since the others arrived at Diamond’s while we were eating pizza they came over and ate pizza, too. The kicker is, they all had already eaten lunch and I was still in my PJs….at 3p…… From there we walked to the lake. Hung out on a swing listening to music for an hour. Walked back. It was one of the most relaxing days.

 The joke within the family was that everyone, even from the other villages had to come to see the castle that I was staying in. Because Diamond and I’s house was in centru we were often a meeting spot for people. But for some reason the meeting spot was actually my house and everyone would end up staying for a meal (Pizza above, Hram, and Team Teaching Prep).

And this is pretty much it! That was an average week during PST. I digressed quite a bit, but that’s okay. It was an exhausting ten weeks that I will never forget. These ten weeks I spent getting to know my government issued family. It’s odd how fate brings us all together, and although I have only known them for ten weeks, we have grown so close that we know more about each other than I would have ever imagined being possible.

[acrimsonphoenix]

Moving On

Here’s the second fic resulting on your votes on Kastle prompts, including

1. Jealousy 5. Didn’t know they were dating 8. Frank taking care of drunk Karen (a little bit)

Let me know what you think. You can also find this fic on AO3. 

@beeha17 @stickthinbarbie @babsiechap 

Karen needed a drink.

 It had been a long week. First, several of her leads had turned up nothing on one of the big organized burglary stories she was writing, then, the FBI pulled out all the stops to prevent the Bulletin from running a story on interstate drug trafficking Karen had spent months on, and finally, her car refused to start this morning when she was already late for an interview with the mayor.

 The only thing that had cheered her up throughout were her dinners with Frank on Monday and Wednesday, and their joint breakfast on Thursday. Those meals had become a firm establishment in her schedule ever since the two of them had spent almost 48 hours snowed in in her apartment two weeks ago, and they never failed to leave Karen feeling happy and content. Even Ellison had noticed that she’d been much happier lately, and now asked her repeatedly who it was that she was dating.

 “I’m not dating anyone, just meeting up with a friend more,” Karen told him. She chose to forego the part in which she was still hopelessly, head-over-heels in love with Frank, but continued to keep her distance to give him space to grieve.

“A friend, huh?” Ellison clearly didn’t believe her. “What’s his name?”

 “Pete,” Karen replied, not quite looking at him. Lying to Ellison felt strange somehow. “Pete Castiglione. I know him from my previous work at Nelson & Murdock.”

 “Is that the same guy who crashed at your place during the blizzard?” Ellison asked, raising his eyebrows.

 “Yeah.” Karen nodded.

 “And also the guy that you spent Christmas and New Year’s with, went ice-skating with the weekend before last, gift-shopping for his friend’s birthday last Friday, and to the movies with last Sunday?” Ellison counted the events on his hand.

 “Yeah,” Karen repeated. “Are you now keeping track of my time outside work as well?”

 “Nah, just curious. You know, journalist.” He pointed to himself using his thumbs.

 “Yeah, well, there’s nothing to be curious about. F- Pete is just a friend, ok?” Karen was becoming annoyed.

 Ellison raised both hands, their palms facing towards her.  “If you say so.”

  So, the entire week had been a bust, mostly. Today was Friday, and Karen had spent most of the day looking forward to the evening, when she and Frank had plans to hang out at her apartment, cook, and watch a movie together. During their regular dinner nights, the two of them usually went to simple restaurants or got take-out, but tonight, Karen just wanted to close the door behind them, shut the world out, eat some home-made food (Frank was an amazing cook, as she had found out), and relax. She wanted to hear about his day – he’d started to work as a renovator for houses – and tell him about hers, laugh with him, and lean her head against his shoulder when they were drinking wine on the couch. Spending time with Frank made everything better, and she needed a big chunk of that now.

 Only that plan had changed at around 4 pm, when Frank had called her. Madani had contacted him to ask for his help. Apparently Billy’s private contractors were running several shady operations in the territories they’d been sent to overseas, and were coordinating everything from New York. Madani said she needed to tap into Frank’s knowledge of both Billy and military operations, as she was technically running this entire investigation off the books. For one, Anvil still seemed to have some sources in Homeland Security even with Billy in a coma, and secondly, her bosses refused to believe that there was an issue with Anvil with Billy gone.

 “So, Madani says there are signs that some major shit is gonna go down with Anvil this weekend, which is why she wants to meet me as soon as possible. Thought you might want in, too, and get the scoop?” Frank had asked when he called.

 Of course she wanted the scoop, especially after the shitty work-week she’d had. So she’d suggested that they all meet at her apartment – less conspicuous – and work on everything there. Home-cooked dinner was replaced by take-out, and at first, Karen didn’t mind the new plan for the evening one bit.

 But then things started to build up. Madani came in dressed impeccably as always, looking quite out of place in Karen’s simple apartment. Then she’d hugged Frank, and the two of them had started to talk shop. Apparently, Afghanistan played a key role in Madani’s investigation once again (she’d found out about it in the first place from one of her contacts from her time over there), and two hours later, Frank and Madani were trading stories and anecdotes from being stationed in the Middle East, and Karen could only listen. It came as no surprise that Madani had an impressive track record of her time there, and Frank seemed full of praise and admiration. Both of them were laughing and giggling, and Madani kept reaching out to touch Frank’s lower arm. Karen had given up taking notes when the story-swapping started, and the longer she was looking at them together, the stronger she could feel a hole burning in the middle of her guts. She told herself that she was overreacting, that it was simply ridiculous to get jealous over two people sharing professional memories. But at the same time, she felt entirely side-lined, and it didn’t help that she was essentially yearning for Frank 24/7 these days. She craved every tiny touch, every smile that was just meant for her, and any thought or story he shared. Seeing him so at ease with another woman, a sophisticated woman with a similar background to Frank’s no less, felt like a weight had been placed on her chest, making it difficult to breathe.

 So Karen decided to pour herself a drink to somehow counteract that ugly pit in her stomach at least. She offered both Madani and Frank some too, but both of them declined. Still, being able to focus on the burning sensation of the whiskey running down the back of her throat helped a little at least.

 Fortunately, her torture didn’t last much longer after that. Madani suggested that they end their meeting for now, and pick it up the next morning, before they’d spring into action the next night to hopefully end Anvil’s drug and human trafficking once and for all. When she said her goodbyes, she hugged Frank once more, a bit longer this time, and Karen actually had to avert her eyes to stop them from turning into a death glare directed at the HS agent.

 “Thank you again for your help, it’s invaluable. I’m starting to lose count of the times you’ve come to my help,” Madani said with a warm smile as her hands slid down Frank’s upper arms and remained there for a second when they broke their embrace.

“Ah, come on, Madani, you know I’m always happy to help. ‘specially with you being the one who gave me a new life,” Frank’s voice rumbled. His smile was wide and sincere.

It took all of her willpower for Karen to stay in her spot and to keep a friendly face. The pit in her stomach felt like it was about to swallow her whole, and Karen suddenly got unbelievably angry with herself. She couldn’t believe that she was jealous that Frank would save the life of another woman. Frank did those things because he couldn’t help himself; he was one of the best people she’d ever known, and she had no exclusive rights to him or his help.

 Karen was tired of all the warring thoughts in her head. She just wanted to go to bed.

 So she waved politely when Madani finally left, and then immediately turned around to busy herself putting away the takeaway containers.

“That went well, we made some good progress. We can definitely figure out the rest tomorrow morning, and then we’ll take care of those son-of-a-bitches tomorrow night,” Frank said as he carried their empty water glasses to Karen into the kitchen.

“Yeah,” Karen said, trying her best to keep her voice level. The whiskey earlier had calmed her nerves somewhat, but it had also made her tired – a little bit too tired to really keep her emotions in check.

 “You know, I know I said you’d get the scoop, and you will, don’t worry ‘bout that, but I’d really prefer if you weren’t there tomorrow night.” Frank put the glasses down next to the sink and turned to face her.

 Normally, Karen would have fought him tooth and nail on this. But right now, she neither had the strength to do that nor the wish to see Frank and Madani fight side-by-side like the perfect team they undoubtedly were. So she just nodded.

 “Okay,” she said, stacking the last containers and opening the lid of her trash can.

 “Okay? Gotta say, I expected more resistance,” Frank inquired carefully.

 Karen turned back towards him and weakly gestured with her right hand. “You’re right, it wouldn’t be a good idea if I were there. You and Madani are trained, I’m not. You say I’ll get the scoop, so you can just tell me all about it afterwards once it’s done.”

 Frank narrowed his eyes. “Okay.”

 Karen pulled one corner of her mouth to one side. “Okay.”

 Frank nodded and turned to wash the glasses.

 “Leave them, I’ll do it tomorrow,” Karen said quickly. She really couldn’t be around him much longer.

 Frank looked at her questioningly. He knew that she hated washing up with a passion. She saw him hesitate briefly, then walk over to the front door.

 “Right, that’s my cue then. Want me to pick you up tomorrow morning when we’re going to Madani?” he asked as he zipped up his coat. Madani had offered her new apartment as their next meeting spot.

 Karen ran her fingers through her hair and then locked her arms in front of her chest.

 “Actually, I don’t think I’ll be able to make it. There’s this other story that I have to work on, Ellison asked me to deliver it as soon as possible,” she said. It felt completely wrong to lie to him, but right now, she just needed to get some distance before she spiralled out of control entirely.

 Frank stilled and seized her up. Then he nodded.

 “’k. Night then, I guess,” Frank said. Karen nodded but remained where she was, her arms still crossed. She could see the confusion on Frank’s face. Usually, they’d hug before they separated.  

 Frank opened the door and stepped out in the hallway. Just before he pulled the door closed, Karen called out.

 “Frank?”

 “Yeah,” he said, pausing his motion and looking at her.

 “Be careful tomorrow, ok? And let me know how it goes?” Karen rubbed her right upper arm.

 Frank nodded briefly, and then pulled the door closed. Karen left out a sigh and closed her eyes. She really needed to find a way to get herself under control.

  Surprisingly, Karen actually got a good night’s sleep after Frank left. However, as Saturday carried on, things took a turn for the much worse. While the green-eyed monster still lurched somewhere deep down, occasionally supplying her with mental images of Frank and Madani sticking their heads together over planning that night’s mission, Karen became increasingly restless about the way she’d treated Frank the evening before. It wasn’t his fault that she was struggling with just staying friends. He’d been his usual kind, caring self, and if Karen had any issues with him being friendly with other women, she shouldn’t take that out on him, full stop.

 She desperately wanted to apologize, but at the same time, she didn’t know how she could. “Sorry I was mean on Friday, it’s just that I got jealous, but don’t worry about that, I know you’re still grieving so I’m trying to be ok with staying friends?” That would just raise even more issues. But any other options would involve lying to Frank once more, which she really didn’t want to do either.

 So Karen tried to take her mind off things by first writing the story that Ellison had asked her to cover, even if that one hadn’t been quite as urgent as she had told Frank the night before. Then she decided to take a turn around the farmer’s market a few blocks down, and in the evening, she was flicking through TV channels trying to find something good to watch while she ate the leftovers of Friday’s take-outs.

 The longer the evening wore on, the more antsy she got. Pictures of Frank’s mangled body were creeping into her mind; from past injuries she’d seen on him to pictures of crime scenes she’d seen in her line of work. What if something went wrong and he got killed?

 Karen got up and poured herself a whiskey to calm her nerves once again, and just like the day before, it did help to take the edge off at least.

 Finally, just after midnight, Karen got a text.

 “All done. Madani got what she needed, bad guys got what they had coming. Getting you the details soon.”

 Karen let out a sigh of relief and immediately texted back.

 “Thanks for letting me know. Are you ok? Hurt?”

 Frank’s reply took around 10 minutes.

 “All good, just scratches.”

 “Madani?” Karen typed back.

 “Ok too,” came Frank’s reply a bit later.

 “Glad to hear that. Sleep well,” Karen sent in response and waited another 20 minutes before she went to bed, but Frank sent nothing else.

   “Everything ok?” David asked. The two of them were standing in the Lieberman’s kitchen washing up the pots, pans, and anything else from lunch that hadn’t fit into the dishwasher. Sarah had herded the kids into the car just after they’d finished, to take them to some kind of school event taking place this afternoon.

 Frank had a standing lunch date with the Liebermans since the beginning of December, and while it had been difficult at first to watch their happy family interacting with each other, it had gotten easier every time, and Frank had to admit that he liked the sense of normalcy the Sunday lunches provided.

 “Yeah, why?” Frank shot back as he handed Lieberman a pan he’d just cleaned. David took it and began to towel it off.

 “You’ve been unusually quiet,” David said carefully. “Something on your mind?”

 “Always got stuff on my mind, you know that, Lieberman,” Frank replied evasively.

 “Everything ok with Karen?” Lieberman clearly had no intention of giving up any time soon.

 Frank stayed quiet for a moment, unsure if he should talk about that. Things with Karen were definitely not ok, it was driving him batshit crazy, but he didn’t even know what was wrong.

 “I’ll take that as a no,” Lieberman continued, putting the pan away.

 Frank just grunted. He still didn’t know if he wanted to talk about it all. For one, Karen and him, that was something – something difficult to explain to others. He was extremely worried that others would spoil the delicate balance and special kind of intimacy they had, and so he was hesitant to talk about it even to David. It also was the reason why he hadn’t brought her to Sunday lunch yet, even though the Lieberman’s repeated their invitation for Karen every damn week.

 “Did you guys fight?” David asked carefully, waiting for Frank to pass him the next item to dry.

 Frank huffed.

 “Don’t know. But feels like it somehow,” he finally conceded and passed Lieberman a huge glass tray.

 “Why does it feel like that?” David just pushed on patiently as he ran the towel over the tray. Was he now taking lessons from Curtis or what?

 “She’s been off all weekend, starting Friday. Offered her place for Madani and me to discuss an investigation into Anvil Madani was running off the books, but was quiet all evening. Felt antsy somehow. Didn’t fight me one bit when I asked her not to be on the ground when Madani and I took out Anvil Saturday night, and didn’t even want to be there when we were planning everything Saturday morning at Madani’s. Made up some bullshit excuse about an urgent story,” Frank recounted. He left out the part where he felt that there was something physically off between them, too. As if a huge distance had been placed between them that wouldn’t allow for the usual ease and close proximity with which they were usually behaving around each other.

 “Hm, maybe she was just tired and really had to write that story? You know, stress at work?” David offered.

 “Tired probably, but I ain’t buying that bullshit about her story. Felt wrong somehow. And the whole week’d been shit in terms of good and important stories,” Frank replied gruffly as he rinsed a water jug.

 “If the whole week’d been shit for her she’d definitely be stressed, right? And even if that one story wasn’t actually important, she might just have wanted to deliver it to feel better?” David mused.

 “Nah, I’m tellin’ ya, something was off. She’d never sit out our planning Saturday morning. Or the action on the ground in the evening,” Frank insisted.

 David stroked his beard.

 “Hm, did anything else happen? And when did Madani come back into the picture?” he asked.

 “Friday afternoon. Called me and asked for my help, so I told her I’d help if Karen got the story. Karen was happy ‘bout that too, as far as I could tell. Even offered her place for us to meet,” Frank told him.

 “Maybe Karen had some other plans originally and later regretted cancelling those for a story?” David asked.

 “Nah, only plans she had were with me. We’d ‘ve been cooking and watching a movie,” Frank said offhandedly.

 David raised his eyebrows.

 “So you two cancelled date-night for work? That might be it,” he said, putting away the jug.

 “Date-night,” Frank repeated mockingly under his breath. “We’re not dating,” he said louder and confidently.

 David stopped mid-motion, facing him.

 “Excuse me, what?” He stared at Frank disbelievingly.

 Frank turned to face him. “We’re not dating, ok? She’s Karen, I’m me. She’s important. But we’re not dating,” he said roughly.

 David pursed his lips.

 “Does she see it that way, too?” he asked. Frank narrowed his eyes.

 “Wha-?”

 “Does she see it that way, too?” David repeated, a bit more firmly.

 Frank’s eyes darted around the room. “What you getting’ at, Lieberman?”

 David closed his eyes and let out a low breath.

 “Back in the fall, when I tracked you down, she was the first one you turned to when you needed help finding me. Then Madani questions her the minute she knows that you’re alive. Lewis goes after her, you lose your shit like I’ve never seen before, tell me she’s family, blow your cover and take a bullet for her.” At Frank’s confused expression, Frank sighed. “Come on man, I read the police report. She said Lewis was about to shoot her when you jumped in front of her, taking the bullet. Anyway, all of that. Stuff’s finally finished, you call her, you seek her out. You spend Christmas and New Year’s together, you meet up every second day at least. Ice-skating in the winter, cooking together, going to restaurants together. And that’s just the stuff you told me about that you guys do.”

 Frank just stood there staring at him.

 David raised his eyebrows.

 “Frank, you and Karen are dating,” David said slowly and clearly. “To say the least,” he added. “Not sure if most people would take a bullet for their date. Or accept that their date goes out killing people every now and then.”

 Frank was still standing there motionless, his eyes darting around the room.

 “Look, if you really didn’t see things that way, then you need to take some time and think about what I just told you. And then you need to figure out how you feel about that and talk to Karen about it. I bet my ass that that’s why she’s been acting strange the last two days,” David said quietly, almost caringly. “At best, she’s confused because she’s receiving mixed signals. At worst, she’s in a completely different place in your relationship, and only just realized it. Thinking of that – are you two having sex?”

 Frank’s eyes shot back to David’s face. “Lieberman!” he near shouted.

 David made a defensive gesture. “Just asking. And hoping that you’re not, ‘cos that’d just make things even worse. And would really make me question your cognitive ability to recognize a relationship.”

 Frank’s head was spinning, and so he turned back to the sink to continue the washing up. He needed something to focus his racing mind on.

 Fucking Lieberman was right. He was dating Karen. He didn’t know how he felt about that. It’d been just barely less than two years since his family died. But since November, their deaths also had some kind of finality to it. They were never coming back. And life without Karen seemed completely wrong, too, especially when she was still here.  

 He hadn’t noticed that he’d stopped moving and was just holding the sponge and a pot in the sink.

 Lieberman placed a hand on his shoulder.

 “I know this is much,” he said sympathetically. “You got a lot to think about. But just one thing, ok? Imagine what Maria would say. Would she want you to be alone for the rest of your life? Or would she want you to find something new?” He swallowed. “I know it always sounds so god-damn cheesy. But it’s true. If I hadn’t made it back to Sarah, I would’ve wanted her to move on, too. She’d deserve to. And so do you.”

 For the rest of the day, Frank’s head was both empty and overloaded. No matter how often he tried, he couldn’t form a single clear thought.

 He loved his family. He loved Maria. But they were gone. And fucking Lieberman was right. If Maria were here somehow, she’d give him a thorough dressing-down for not seeing Karen for what she was earlier, and for even doubting if he should hold on to her. It wouldn’t have been any different for Frank if their places had been reversed. He’d actually told Maria several times when he was about to go on employment that if he didn’t make it back, he’d want her to move on, to live her life, and not feel guilty.

 Still, that wasn’t easy. And then there was Karen, too.

 He loved Karen, he admitted as much. He hadn’t hesitated for a second when he’d jumped in front of that bullet, and he’d do the same again anytime, with or without his vest.

 But Karen deserved better. She deserved everything, not just some beat-up, broken killer who’d been too stupid to question his orders for a long time, and who’d got his family murdered as a result. She deserved someone who didn’t know the constant feeling of blood on his hands and the smell of death in his nose.

 But what if she wanted him? More than anything, he wanted her to be happy, whether it was with him or with someone else. So if she wanted him – wouldn’t that be her choice to make, not his?

  It was just past nine p.m. when Frank’s phone rang. He’d been lying on his bed since he’d gotten back from the Liebermans, trying to make sense of the chaos in his head.

 The caller ID told him it was Karen. He braced himself and picked up.

 “Hey,” he said, trying to keep his voice neutral.

 “Hey,” Karen said back. There was noise in the background as if she were at a bar, and he could hear her breathing.

 “You ok?” Frank asked as he sat up.

 “No,” Karen replied. Frank tensed, ready to spring into action. “I was mean to you and you didn’t deserve it one bit,” she continued. Her words were slightly slurred. She must have been drinking.  

 Frank relaxed a bit at that and couldn’t stop a chuckle that escaped from his lips.

 “Might disagree on that. Been thinking and you might’ve good reasons to kick my ass.”

 “No, I don’t. You’re always so nice and good and watching out for me. You help people and I should not get jealous because of that,” Karen continued. “Fuck, I didn’t want to tell you that.”

 Frank was smiling amusedly. “Jealous, huh?” A warm feeling was blooming in his chest.

 “Please forget that I said that,” Karen pleaded earnestly. “I promised myself I wouldn’t put you in an awkward position. I know you need to grieve. I know no-one can ever replace them.”

 Frank made a non-committal noise as he processed the information. So she didn’t think they were dating, either, which was a good thing. But then she also thought that he didn’t want to be in a relationship, which wasn’t quite as good and not exactly right. And definitely not something to discuss on the phone.

 “Where are you? Got a feeling someone should make sure you get home safe,” he said measuredly.

 “I’m at Réunion Bar,” Karen said, her breathing hitched. “At a birthday party of a co-worker.”

 “On a Sunday?” Frank raised his brow.

 “Yeah, stupid, I know. But she really wanted to celebrate. Thought I should go for a drink but people kept buying rounds of shots. Think I’ll go home soon. But I really wanted to talk to you first.”

 “How ‘bout I come get you and then we can talk on the way home, huh?” Frank asked.

 “See, again. You’re so nice to people,” Karen exclaimed.

 “Nice to you,” Frank corrected her. He paused. “So, can I come pick you up?”

 “Yeah,” Karen breathed after a second.

 “Be there in ten,” Frank replied.

   Réunion Bar was designed like a surf bar and was full of people even on a Sunday night. Frank was glad that he had grown out his hair again since November, and also his beard since the blizzard two weeks earlier. The first few months, he’d shaved his beard to better keep track of the healing cuts and bruises on his face as recommended by the doctors in the hospital, but when he stayed over at Karen’s, he’d forgotten his razor, and then used the opportunity to start growing his beard again.

 Karen was standing near the entrance staring at the crowd when he came in. She was leaning against a wall, a large empty water glass in hand, and seemed lost in thought.

 “Hey,” he said gruffly.

 She turned her head towards him and a slow smile spread across her features that left her eyes shining brightly.

 “Hi,” she said softly. “Thanks for getting me.”

 “Anytime,” Frank replied. His gaze swept across the room, and he could see the birthday girl with a sash proclaiming her as such near the bar, surrounded by other women.

 “Shall I wait while you say goodbye?” Frank asked.

 “Already did,” Karen said with a smile. She pushed herself off the wall and reached out to a chair next to her. “And got my coat. Ready to go.”

 She was just placing the empty glass on a nearby table when Frank heard the squeal.

 “Oh my God, Karen, is that the guy you’ve been dating?” Birthday girl had spotted them and made her way over to them.

 Karen swore. “Shoot, I’m so sorry. She’s really drunk,” she said apologetically.

 Frank just raised an amused eyebrow and turned to the woman in the sash. A few of her friends had followed her.

 “Yes, ma’am. The name’s Pete,” he said with a polite smile.

 “Ooh, ma’am,” birthday girl repeated, throwing Karen an appreciative look. Karen blushed a bit and swayed on her feet.  

 “This is Kelly. She covers the science section,” Karen said with an uncomfortable smile.

 “And it is my birthday!” Kelly added. The girls behind her broke out in loud “wohoo!”s.

 “Congratulations,” Pete said with a chuckle. “Unfortunately, Karen and I have to go now.”

 “Of course. Have fun you two,” Kelly said with a suggestive tone before she retreated to the bar again with her friends in tow.

 “I’m sorry. She’s really cool and super-smart, and also really excited about her birthday,” Karen said as she unfolded her coat to put it on. Frank reached for it and held it up for her.

 “Thanks,” Karen gave him a shy smile as she slipped into it.

 “Come on, let’s go,” Frank said and put a hand on the small of her back to guide her outside.

  The car ride was silent, and when Frank parked the van in front of Karen’s building, neither of them moved.

 Frank rested his left hand on the steering wheel and slightly turned towards Karen, who threw him a shy sideward glance.

 “So, uh, I had lunch with the Liebermans again today,” Frank said. He didn’t really know where to start, but this seemed like a good place.

 “David, he … he got me thinking ‘bout a few things,” he continued, tapping his trigger finger against his thigh where his hand rested.

 Karen turned to face him fully. Her expression was guarded, but her eyes soft.

 “And what’s that?” she asked quietly.

 “What’d you mean when you said you knew that I needed to grieve?” Frank asked back. He still had no idea how to have this conversation.

 Karen swallowed and her eyes darted around the interior of the car.

 “Curtis said that, remember? It’s all over now, so you finally have time to grieve. I know how hard that is, how long it takes, that it never really ends,” she said, not quite looking at him.

 “Curtis ‘s got it wrong,” Frank shot back. “I’ll always miss them, the pain is never going away, yeah. But … but it’s all over now, Karen. They’re dad, they’re not coming back. But I’m here.”

 Karen nodded slowly. “Okay,” she said.

 Frank cursed himself. This was not going well at all. He had no idea how to tell her what he wanted to say. His whole body felt tense with frustration.

 “I mean … Karen, what do you think we are doing here?” he finally asked, exasperatedly. He needed her to help him, he couldn’t do all of this on his own.

 Karen looked like a deer caught in headlights. She swallowed thickly and then nervously licked her lips.

 “What do you mean?” she said, her voice creaking a bit.

 “I mean that … shit, Karen – we’re dating,” he finally bellowed out. “And we seem to be the only ones not seeing it that way.” He grasped the steering wheel and his gaze flittered around the car and down the street. “But the thing is … I want to see it that way, ‘cos … you’re important to me Karen. You’re the reason why I got through this whole shit. Why I even started thinking about what’d happen after.” He turned to her again. “I’m moving on. It ain’t easy, there are still dark days, but … I am moving, and I’ve been doing it because of you.” He paused for a second. “I wanna continue moving on with you.”

 The silence that followed his words hung heavy between them. Karen was still motionless, staring straight at him with her hand pressed against her mouth.

 “So, I just … want to know. What’d you mean when you said that you didn’t wanna put me in an awkward position?” Frank followed up, willing himself to keep looking at her.

 Karen swallowed thickly and lowered her hand. She ran it through her hair and then stared at the gear stick before meeting his gaze again.

 “I… ah…” she trailed off. Then she began again, once again not quite looking at him. “I realized about three weeks ago that I … that I’m in love with you.” She swallowed once more and crossed one arm over her body as if to protect herself. “But with Curtis talking about you needing time to grieve, and seeing how you’re still hurting every day, I just… I decided not to do anything about it. I wanted to be there for you as a friend, help you deal with everything, without putting any more pressure on you.”

 Frank felt all tension leave his body and a shy smile spread across his face at her admission.

 “But from what you’re saying, I seem to have got it all wrong,” Karen continued carefully.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Frank couldn’t stop the wide grin from spreading across his face. Karen mirrored his smile and uncrossed her arm, running her hand through her hair once more.

 “Okay,” she breathed.

 Frank decided to stop dancing around things. He raised his right hand to gently cradle Karen’s face. She closed her eyes and melted into the caress. Then Frank leant forwards and pressed a tender kiss to her lips. Karen sighed softly, and Frank felt like his heart was about to burst from his chest. Karen brought her hand up to stroke the back of his head, and the kiss slowly became more heated. Karen parted her lips slightly, and Frank responded in kind, sucking and nipping at hers, pulling her even closer and bringing in his left hand to stroke the base of her throat and her collar bone with his thumb.

 Frank wondered why they hadn’t done this earlier. Karen’s lips felt intoxicating on his, and her touches sent little bouts of electricity down his body all the way to the ends of his feet.

 After a while, they broke up for air and rested their foreheads against each other. Frank chuckled lightly.

 “Feelin’ like a teenager again, makin’ out in the car,” he said, his voice rumbling quietly.

 Karen leant back at little and fixed him with a meaningful look and a small smile.

 “Well,” she said, raising her eyebrows. “There is a way that we can fix that.” She pressed another kiss to his lips. “Wanna come up for a coffee?”

   “You know, we have photographic evidence now,” Ellison announced when he appeared in her office door the next morning. “And witness statements.”

 Karen looked up from the papers she’d been sorting.

 “Of what?” she asked distractedly.

 “Your boyfriend,” Ellison said triumphantly. “Kelly says he’s very well-mannered and completely over the moon for you. You know how perceptive she is. She’s also the one that took a photo of him and kindly shared it with me. One of the best journalists, I have, I gotta say.” He held out a grainy print of a picture showing Frank from across the room, seemingly after he had just arrived. Only one side of his face was visible, though. Karen looked at the photo and then back at her desk.

 “Seriously, Karen, a hipster?” Ellison asked. “I have to say, I did not see that one coming.”

 Karen snorted. “Yeah, well, neither did I.”

[siristaci]

Okay, I was raised mormon and still live in Utah and I've never heard of going to church six days a week, twice on Wednesday. I went to church for three hours every Sunday and, as a teen, went to one- or two-hour long youth activities/lessons every Wednesday evening.

There's also seminary for high school students, which takes place during school hours as a class you get no academic credit for, but since most high school students have different classes on different days (such as having geometry, choir, art, and English on A days and biology, drama, French, and civics on B days, and A and B days just alternate), you're only gonna have seminary every other day, at most.

I've also never heard of this special "men only" show on Wednesdays. The church definitely owns some local channels (and radio stations). I seem to recall the channel that usually had PBS would play mormon stuff on Sundays and that was the channel we watched conference on.

There's a special session of conference that's only supposed to be watched by the men, to the point that it wasn't broadcasted locally; you had to either watch it in person, or go to your local church building where they had some special broadcast, I guess (Idk, I'm a girl and we moved to Utah when I was 10, but then I left the church when I was 16 and the broadcasting things are different in Utah, so I'm sure I don't know everything about how the men's session worked). But conference is only twice a year, and I think they've added women's sessions as well, idk.

Most businesses in Utah either aren't open on Sundays, or just tell every employee that they are required to work at least one Sunday per month, regardless of religious beliefs (this is usually stated during the job interview, so you have a chance to back out before it's a problem). There are some places that just happen to have enough people who don't mind working on Sundays, so it's not a problem, but if they lose those employees, it turns into a place where everyone has to work Sundays. But it isn't this insidious, nobody really realizes what's going on kind of thing. If you're looking for a job at a place that is open on Sundays, regardless of your religious beliefs, you are very aware that you may be told that you have to work on Sundays or find somewhere else to work.

The 1950s mindset of the housewife is absolutely spot-on, though. My mother is a pretty good writer, and fairly smart. She loved school and took a lot of classes in high school that would have prepared her for being an English major. And she would have done very well, in college and after. I imagine she would have written short stories and children's books, maybe getting into writing novels after about 10 years. At the very least, she probably would have gotten married and had kids after college and become a popular mom blogger.

Instead, she sent in a couple of short stories to local magazines and then got married seven months after graduating from high school, and gave birth to me a year and a half later (which is a long time to wait for a mormon couple). Over the next few years, she had two more kids and a couple of very part time jobs. It wasn't until her youngest child was an adult, nearly 30 years after high school, that she went to college. And you know what she's doing with that business degree? She's working at the college she just graduated from. As a secretary for the counselors. A job that I'm qualified for, and all I've got is a GED.

I've been unemployed for most of my married life and nobody looks at me funny for not having a job. They do look at me like I'm an alien when I tell them I don't have kids, though.

mormon kids under the age of 18 being told their church is a cult

mormons 18-24 after they go through their endowment ceremony and receive their new name and secret clothing and learn the secret handshakes and passwords and realize everyone around them has been secretly doing this the whole time and now theyre going to be sent away from their family for 2 years where they will literally not be allowed to be alone for 1 second of the day except to go to the bathroom and they have no idea how to get out of what they just got into

[moonwalkertrance]

In a remarkable, televised 55-minute meeting with about two dozen Democratic and Republican lawmakers earlier this month, President Trump twice proclaimed that any immigration deal would need to be “a bill of love” — setting an optimistic tone for averting a government shutdown with a bipartisan solution.  

“It’s like the wedding where someone actually stands up and objects to the wedding,” the lawmaker said. “It was that moment.”

That meeting nearly two weeks ago, and the president’s ambivalence, marked the beginning of yet another period of Trump-fueled tumult that helped push the federal government into a shutdown at midnight Friday. Pinging from one upheaval to the next — while clearly not understanding the policy nuances of the negotiation — Trump clashed at different times with Democrats and members of his own party, who grew increasingly exasperated with the president even as they sought to cast blame upon the other side.

“I’m looking for something that President Trump supports,” Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell (R-Ky.) said in public frustration at one point late in the negotiations. “And he’s not yet indicated what measure he’s willing to sign.”

Trump is a self-proclaimed dealmaker who has struggled to close critical deals as president — an unreliable negotiator who seems to promise one thing only to renege days, or even hours, later. He boasts of being “flexible” and has few core ideological convictions, yet often seems torn between his desire for a bipartisan “win” and the pull of the nationalist populism he ran on. In politics, he resembles at times an amateur jazz musician — moody and improvisational, but without the technical chops to hold a piece together.

The early weeks of 2018 have felt eerily similar to those of 2017, as upheaval has consumed the president’s agenda and message — including the shutdown battle, a tell-all book chronicling a president at sea and news of a payout before the 2016 election to a porn star alleging an affair with Trump.

“Negotiating with President Trump is like negotiating with Jell-O,” Minority Leader Charles E. Schumer (D-N.Y.) complained on the Senate floor Saturday, some 12 hours into the shutdown. “It’s next to impossible.”

This account of Trump’s divisive role in shutdown negotiations is based on interviews with more than a dozen lawmakers, White House advisers, government aides and Trump confidants, most of whom requested anonymity to discuss private negotiations.

The talks seemed to begin with promise. Trump loved the positive press he received from the Cabinet Room meeting-turned-reality-show on Jan. 9. He hoped to be the bipartisan dealmaker who could both keep the government open and provide legislative protections for “dreamers,” the nearly 690,000 young immigrants facing deportation after Trump announced an end to Barack Obama’s Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (DACA) program, according to an outside adviser.

“The construct that always works for the president is saying, ‘Bush couldn’t get it done, Obama couldn’t get it done, but I can get it done,’ ” said Jason Miller, a former Trump campaign adviser. “That is his sweet spot.”

Two days into the negotiations, on Jan. 11, Trump the negotiator seemed to signal he was ready to deal — inviting Sens. Richard J. Durbin (D-Ill.) and Lindsey O. Graham (R-S.C.) to the White House to present their ideas for a compromise to stave off a shutdown.

But when Durbin and Graham arrived, they found an angry president, surrounded by hawkish immigration opponents and no longer amenable to the deal he’d praised in phone calls just hours earlier. At one point, Trump dismissed immigrants from African nations as coming from “shithole” countries and wondered why he had to allow them into the United States. He also said he would prefer people from countries such as Norway. The racially charged remarks reported by The Post thrust the president into yet another controversy of his own making and further complicated the shutdown talks.

Despite his vocal frustration, Graham continued to try to work with Trump, turning a televised Senate hearing with Nielsen the following week into a personal appeal to the president.

“So Tuesday, we had a president that I was proud to golf with, call my friend, who understood immigration had to be bipartisan, you had to have border security,” Graham said, referring to the initial Jan. 9 meeting and addressing Nielsen as if speaking directly to Trump. “But he also understood the idea that we had to do it with compassion.”

Graham flung his arms apart and concluded: “Now I don’t know where that guy went. I want him back.”

Trump, meanwhile, viewed Graham’s increasingly public criticisms as disloyal, according to one outside adviser.

Within Trump’s broader orbit of outside friends and confidants, however, there was growing concern that a shutdown would offer only “downside for the Republicans,” said another informal adviser who recently spoke with Trump.

This adviser added that some allies worried Trump was making poor political decisions and would struggle with the optics of a shutdown — including images of Trump and some of his advisers departing for the World Economic Forum in Davos, Switzerland, this coming week.

“That’s the Democrats’ ad: Your government closes, and Trump does a fundraiser at Mar-a-Lago and half the Cabinet goes to Davos,” the adviser said, referring to a scheduled event at Trump’s private Florida club Saturday night.

About a week out from a possible shutdown, Trump, too, was becoming frustrated. He groused that his staff had “failed him” by not reaching a better compromise on Capitol Hill. Morale among mid-level staff in the West Wing and Eisenhower Executive Office Building had plummeted, said two people familiar with the mood inside the White House.

As the shutdown loomed, the president grew more erratic. In the first week, he set off a 101-minute scramble after tweeting that Congress should vote against a foreign surveillance bill that his own White House was championing after watching a segment on “Fox and Friends.” This past Thursday, he did it again — taking to Twitter to suggest that the Children’s Health Insurance Program should not be included in any short-term spending bill. The stance directly contradicted the strategy of congressional Republicans, who were attempting to use CHIP to lure reluctant Democrats into supporting the plan.

A White House official called it “deja vu.”

The president, however, did not seem to fully grasp just how problematic his CHIP tweet was for his own party. Minutes after tweeting his criticism, Trump spoke by phone with McConnell, according to people familiar with the conversation. Trump praised the Republican bill, showed no reluctance when McConnell explained his plan to forge ahead with it and made no mention of his tweet, these people said. Trump also reassured House Speaker Paul D. Ryan (R-Wis.) that he liked the bill as it was.

The whole episode left congressional leaders puzzled: Why, they wondered, would the president tweet something negative about their legislation and rattle Republican lawmakers without ever raising concerns with them — and then act as if nothing had happened?

Sen. John Neely Kennedy (R-La.), speaking to reporters Friday night about his general frustrations with the process, said that “our country was founded by geniuses, but it’s being run by idiots.”

Meanwhile, Trump had also begun feuding with his chief of staff, John Kelly, who had helped impose discipline in the White House and shared many of Trump’s more conservative immigration views. But he and Nielsen had also been privately complaining about Trump’s campaign promise to build a wall on the southern border as ill-advised and “silly” since their early days in the administration, when Kelly was secretary of homeland security and Nielson was his senior adviser, according to a person familiar with their discussions.

Against that backdrop on Wednesday, Kelly told lawmakers in a private meeting that Trump had “evolved” on his view of the wall and that some of the more hard-line immigration policies Trump had pushed for during the campaign were “uninformed.” He repeated the general message in a television interview the same day.

The president was furious and pushed back against his chief of staff in a series of tweets the next day without directly naming him. “The Wall is the Wall,” he wrote. “It has never changed or evolved from the first day I conceived of it.”

The final 24 hours before the shutdown played out in a dizzying series of private huddles, frenzied phone calls and belligerent public pronouncements from both sides. Through it all, the president remained mercurial and unreadable even to those ostensibly negotiating with him.

Rep. Mark Meadows (R-N.C.), head of the conservative Freedom Caucus, said Trump called him Thursday to say he wanted the House to debate a more conservative immigration bill being proposed by Rep. Bob Goodlatte (R-Va.). But the president also said he did not want a shutdown. “He mentioned that several times,” Meadows said.

And Trump — who has previously told associates a shutdown might be good for him politically — complained that he would be blamed for any outcome. Shutdowns, he concluded, never help the people in charge.

He made an impromptu call Friday to Schumer and invited him to the White House, worrying congressional Republican leaders and aides who feared, in the words of one, that they were “about to get hosed.”

Many Republicans relished the spot Schumer was in — torn between liberals positioning for a 2020 presidential race and centrists facing reelection in 2018 in conservative states — and wanted to keep him under pressure.

Over cheeseburgers in the private dining room just off the Oval Office, Trump and Schumer discussed a comprehensive deal that would include an immigration component and keep the government open, along with disaster relief and budget caps. Schumer signaled he would be open to considering funding for Trump’s border wall and providing more defense spending, but he wanted the president to agree to a five-day measure to keep the government open to give both sides time to negotiate something longer term.

At one point, Schumer asked Trump to tweet in favor of a short-term bill to pressure others, officials said. The top Senate Democrat left the meeting buoyed, telling others that Trump seemed willing to strike a deal.

But as the day wore on, McConnell urged Kelly to not give in. Worried White House aides began making calls to their counterparts on the Hill, assuring them that Trump wouldn’t “give away the store,” in the words of one top Republican aide. The president summoned Meadows and Rep. Raúl R. Labrador (R-Idaho), another member of the Freedom Caucus, to the Oval Office for a long meeting, even as aides to Trump and Schumer discussed possible deals in writing.

Trump called Schumer a few hours later and said he understood there was a deal for a three-week measure to fund the government — the first that Schumer had heard of any such deal, according to one person familiar with the issue. At another point, Kelly called Schumer, telling the Democrat that his immigration proposal was too liberal and would not work for the administration.

Schumer wondered aloud to his members about what, exactly, had changed.

“What happened to the President Trump who asked us to come up with a deal and promised that he would take heat for it?” Schumer asked on the Senate floor shortly after the government shutdown had begun at midnight. “What happened to that president? He backed off at the first sign of pressure.”

But early Saturday morning, there was no Trump to be found. He was cloistered at the White House away from public view. Another promising deal — so tantalizingly close — had somehow slipped away.