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starwriterulia · 4 months ago

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Tomb of the Goshenite Stargazer Dragon - Chapter 5

SUBJECT MATERIAL WARNINGS FOR THIS FANFICTION ARE INCLUDED IN THE MASTERLIST POST OF MY BLOG AND THE FIRST CHAPTER OF THIS FANFICTION.

Bat dividers by @violetbudd

Scene cut and creator support banners by @cafekitsune

Latest update: August 18, 2024. Added chapter summary. Added scene cut and "Support your creators by reblogging" banners. Added ⏭️ emoji below end of chapter banner with text explaining its function as a navigational button.

Chapter summary: Stephanie and Faith fail to be intimate, Faith citing that they're siblings now, and Stephanie understands and apologises. Faith shares the near-incestous memory she had hidden out of shame, Barbara outside the door listening. Barbara shares this with Dick and Tim off-screen, and their mission to be friends with Faith and guide her is reaffirmed. The next morning is Monday, and Stephanie and Faith eat breakfast, and as Faith practices with Tim, she talks with Dick about what Ra's might have experienced and done in her Dragon Tomb, revealing a loophole Ra's could access in her Puzzle Tower, a door to it in her Dragon Tomb, that Dick makes her amend immediately, Barbara helping. Faith divulges her love for Tohou, almost all off-screen, as the group play Wii games after dinner. Stephanie and Faith go to bed with their pyjamas on.

Fandoms: DC Comics, Batfamily, no Batcest, Thalassic Space (OC; takes inspiration The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Assassin's Creed: Black Flag, Silent Hill 2, Silent Hill 3, and other sci-fi, fantasy and horror titles, as well as original concepts, such as the science and lore of the galaxy.)

[In order of appearance] Characters: Faith Lawson (TBA; self-insert), Stephanie Brown (The Spoiler). Barbara Gordon (Batgirl), Tim Drake (Red Robin), Dick Grayson (Nightwing).

Word Count: 7093 (Slightly long, but not too long!)

Content warning: Mention of a sexual ick (feces from how Faith's body tenses up), details of the struggles of wiping after using the bathroom due to dwarfism, a retelling of Faith's near-incestuous experience, discussion of Faith's stressful experience of learning about sex on the Internet without her parents' proper guidance, canon-typical violence, major character death.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6

Stephanie flicked on the bedside lamp as Faith entered and closed the door. "All right," Stephanie took hold of Faith's left wrist with both hands and pulled her to stand at the left side of the bed. "Lift your arms! Lemme see you again, girl!"

"Um."

"Are you scared?"

"Well, now that I'm part of the Batfamily, it's inappropriate. I know this is just what you do, but I'd rather people like me."

"Oh, oh shit, I totally get that! I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for hitting on you, too."

"Thanks"

"Do you just wanna talk, then?"

"Can we talk and platonically cuddle?"

"Hell yes!"

"Yay!" As the girls crawled into bed, Stephanie laying down and extending her right arm, Barbara arrived at the door with a plate of apple pie and ice cream in each hand. "Do you want to be on top like this?"

'Yep, Barbara, you should have waited an hour.' Barbara thought.

"Yes, please." Faith said, lowering herself to rest her head partially on Stephanie's shoulder and partially into her armpit. Faith sighed. "So, part of my asexuality is that I give myself the ick."

"Mhm?"

'I should just go.' Barbara picked up the plates. Her watch vibrated. She looked at it.

"When my body tenses up to cum, I shit a little, and that turns me off, and I can't finish."

'SOFFFIAA just sent me a message.' Barbara interacted with her watch to open the Messages tab of TSRPG, and navigated to chat with SOFFIAA.

"Oh, well that's not good. Do you ever just sit on a towel?"

SOFFFIAA has turned her attention to you, bearing a message.

SOFFFIAA: Please don't go.

"I do, but then the towel needs to be cleaned." Faith said. Barbara heard Dick approaching, and glanced at him.

SOFFFIAA: You wanted to know the story Faith hasn't told you.

"And it smells like piss, so I just..."

SOFFFIAA: Have you figured out that I am actually Faith's Anima?

"Sigh, I just end up rubbing my dildo against myself a little bit,"

BARBARA GORDON: Hm. No, but it makes sense.

DIck whispered, "You're talking to SOFFFIAA and eavesdropping?"

SOFFFIAAA: Well, now that you're informed, please stay.

"'Cause I can't reach with just my arms, which is why my panties sometimes smell like piss,"

"Aw."

"Yes, Dick Grayson, I am." Barbara said.

BARBARA GORDON: OK. I will. Thanks for the heads up.

SOFFFIAA: It was my duty and pleasure to assist with the healthy status of your friendship with the Great Little Starwriter.

"Unless I had the time and desire to actually lift my leg or really bend over,"

SOFFFIAA has turned her attention away.

Barbara closed the app as Tim came near. "Liiiittle creepy." She whispered. 'Oops.'

Dick said, "It can probably still hear you. Er, she, sorry."

"Sorry, no offense, SOFFIAA. You know the stereotype."

"But when I feel the shit coming, I run to the toilet, and then I've lost the horny." Faith said. As she spoke, Barbara, Dick and Tim waited for Barbara's watch to recieve a new message. It didn't.

"Aw, that sucks."

"Huh, an artificial consciousness that actually isn't capable of evil?" Said Dick.

"I just wish I didn't have a body."

Tim said, "Well, SOFFFIAA is an actual person. Chandra, remember?"

"Riiight."

"Oh, Faith." Stephanie said, kindly, gently placing her right hand on Faith's back and massaging. "You can't do that, and neither can I. And please don't say that you could, with magic."

"'Kay." Faith mumbled, dropping her hand and gaze.

Stephanie sighed through her nose. "How can I help you?"

"I just want to cuddle and kiss a girl. Can't kiss you, as we've said."

"Oh, I know."

"Also, I don't think I'd like the taste or feel of pussy, much less ass. And having Ra's dick in my mouth was really uncomfortable."

"He mouth-raped you?!"

Dick angrily whispered, "He mouth-raped her?!"

Tim bit his lower lip in anger. "Bruce didn't share that with us."

Barbara said, "I guess he just assumed she would tell us."

"Yeah." Said Tim.

"Yeah, Ra's was actually there. Honestly, I was curious, and I thought it might satiate his pursuit of me for a little."

"It wouldn't have."

"Nope." Said Tim.

"Yeah. Also, my hormones were why I didn't use magic to throw him then and there. Giving a dick head with a bit of throating hurt in the awkward way I thought it would. Having a small mouth and a gag reflex didn't help. I mean, it got easier, but he said something that gave me the opportunity to manifest Argophael, and then I threw Ra's."

"Right, oh-kay. Well, you got it done. Throwing Ra's, I mean. Sorry you had to experience that."

"Thanks."

"But like, this? Being this close to a girl? It's a lot less stressful than what my brain thinks about with a guy."

"It is, isn't it?'

"'Cause they smell different, and my body and brain reacts different, and I don't want the baby fever I get 'cause I'd have a high risk pregnancy. Also, my IUD is supposed to be useless because I'm a demigoddess, but it's a lie."

"It is?"

"It's in the Script, which is why Urania told me that. My Role as the Great Little Starwriter is to provide information, but not all of it is true, outside of Thalassic Space. There's a reason that all of the named characters in the stories are actually Actors. None of it's real. When Ra's finds out, he's going to be pissed."

"Right, 'cause his plans to use your powers to kill people and use the environment for his cause will be foiled."

"Exactly."

"Huh. Do you want to never have sex with a man?"

"No, I do, just a little, to know what it feels like. But I'm so small, and I get so stressed, and then I shit, I-I can't even use my dildo for longer than two minutes, unless I'm sitting on a towel, and my hormones take priority over the ick, which is really rare."

"Aw, I'm sorry, Faith."

"It's OK. It's not your fault, or even mine, I-I just learned about sex in a scary way 'cause of the Internet."

"What did you see?"

Barbara quietly put down the dessert plates on a nearby table so she could properly listen to the door.

Faith sighed heavily. "You know how, in the Vocaloid community, Rin and Len Kagamine aren't siblings, just mirrors of each other, but a lot of the fandom views them as siblings?"

"Mhm."

"Well, I have a brother." Things clicked in the Batkids' brains. "I dunno why he knew what sex was and agreed to it. He was ten, I was twelve. The farthest we got was our clothes off on his bed."

"Oh, ha, uh, OK."

"Sorry, I don't like this memory, I never talk about it."

"I can see why. You don't have to keep talking about it, if it's making you so stressed, Faith."

"No, I want to finish it. Then Mom came in, asking what all the noise was for, and then she got loud asking why we were naked. I got the most spankings, of course, and I told her that I got the idea from the Internet, so I had my phone taken away for a month. The thing is, my subconsious has made the memory worse in that my teenage brother is the one who wants to do it, and I'm my adult self with the memory and the knowledge I've learned about why incest happens and is a fetish, and I just wake up angry and screaming and wishing I could just erase the memory from my mind. And I know it's just a dumb thing I almost did as a kid, but I don't like sex as an adult because I keep thinking of the power imbalance between men and women, if you don't think about people who flip that on it's head, but I had to learn about that from the Internet, not hetero-normative society."

"And I had to learn from the Internet about the power that adults have over children, and what child autonomy is. Consensual sex is between two adults with a socially acceptable age difference, or who are the same age, and sex is supposed to be romantic, non-stressful and fun. I-I'm just so lost from having all of this information, and the things I've seen online, trying to see what sexual acts I do and don't like. I've always felt more comfortable watching two women or men or queer people having sex, not a man and a woman. The monster fucker part of me came from the second fandom I joined, TMNT, but in 2012 thanks to the Wii game."

"Oh God, that movie." Stephanie and Faith laughed.

"Sex with a penis looks painful, and I don't understand why they repeat certain words in certain ways instead of sometimes saying those words to communicate when something feels good or needs to stop. I do like the moaning and sounds, though." Faith sighed.

"It sounds like you like safe, consensual sex that's a little on the quiet side, Faith. That's perfectly normal."

"I know. The only thing I can do about it is role-play with myself so I'm control, but like I said, I gross myself out, and I can't finish."

"That's not true, you can ask for help."

"I tried, with online dating, and there's no one in my town who likes what I do who's not a minor or dating, and you know what online dating is like, right?"

"Yeah, it's no picnic."

"Exactly. Me trying to help myself is what happened earlier today with my Animus."

"Right."

"All of this shit is why I'm on the asexual spectrum, a-and one more reason for me to not talk to people." Faith said. Stephanie hummed. "My experiences with online dating have just confirmed what I learned, and have further confirmed my fears and icks about what it's like to be a cisgender woman. I've even learned about what it's like to be transgender, and I like to be friends with them and people of other genders because they feel safe. I know I'll never be in a romantic relationship with a queer person, even a woman, because I'm stuck in my brain, and in the past, a-and again, I'm just so, so lost." Faith sobbed.

Stephanie gently said, "Faith. That's not true. You can love whoever you want to."

"Yeah, but I can't even cry because Mom said it's a pity-party, and I'm supposed to cry for others, not me. So I don't want to live, and I don't want love, and I don't want sex, I just want peace and freedom, but I don't know what that is outside of a story, so I made a whole galaxy." Faith huffed. "I'm tired." She whimpered, nestled into Stephanie, and closed her eyes.

Stephanie was speechless for a few seconds. "I'm sorry, Faith."

"It's not your fault, and it's not mine, I just learned things that have made me so scared and icky, and I just have to deal with it."

"I know. It sounds like it. Well, thank you for being so brave and telling me about that memory, and how you feel. I promise that none of us will ever take advantage of you like that, OK?"

"I know. It's why I didn't immediately ask Platonia to cut the shit and send Ra's home a husk of himself for a year. I wanted to meet you guys, I-I wanted friends!" Faith started crying, burrowing her face into Stephanie. Stephanie clicked her tongue and tightened her grip around Faith, rubbing her back. Tears began to run from Barbara's eyes. Dick's eyes watered as he reached out to caress Barbara's arm. Tim had lowered his own wettened eyes and sighed.

"All I want is friends, but all my life, it's been so hard! And I know why now, and what to do, but it's still so hard! So I made a galaxy, and, and..." Faith grumbled, and tucked her face into Stephanie's body. Stephanie felt the tears from Faith's eyes. How they didn't flow. How they were trapped.

Stephanie cried for her, and sniffled. "I'm so sorry, Faith."

"Thank you for listening and not screaming that I'm an incestuous piece of shit."

"Is that what you're afraid of people calling you, when you tell them that story?"

"Yeah, and I don't tell it often 'cause sometimes my friends have trauma directly caused by incest, or familial molestation. But my Homestuck friends, they understood, they were kind to me, and then we moved on! And I try to live like that, I try to move on, but the dream world, my subconsious, it won't let go."

"Maybe that's OK, Faith." Faith groaned and shook her head. "Maybe that's your brain's way of telling you why it's important to remember."

Faith sniffled, looked up a little, and nodded. "That makes sense. I've probably realised that before, but like all of the good things that come from my memories, and even what I'm supposed to be doing in the present, they get lost in noise."

"Can you let go of those thoughts for now, and cuddle with me?"

Faith nodded. "I'd like that."

"Good." Stephanie said. Faith relaxed into Stephanie, her eyes closing again, her right hand carressing Stephanie's lower abdomen. Seeing this, Stephanie closed her eyes too.

"You smell nice." Faith quietly said.

"You do, too." Stephanie replied.

Barbara knocked twice. "Uh, it's me! I've got apple pie and vanilla ice cream, if you want it." Dick and Tim moved left, away from the door.

"Yeah." Faith muttered.

"Sure, Barbara. You can come in." Stephanie said. Barbara opened the door with her free hand, picked up the plate she had set down, and entered the room, closing the door with her right foot. Barbara put the plates on the nightstand, and sat on the bed. "Did you hear any of that?"

"Yeah. I had literally just stopped at the door when she started. Faith, hey. Can you look at me, please?" The little woman turned her head to look at Barbara.

"I just want you to know that it's all OK, now. You know what you were about to do was wrong so much that it's been a burden that your subconscious has used to take away your courage to live a good life." Faith nodded. "That's why you're so afraid of sex and only comfortable with it in your mind, when it's completely under your control, right?" Faith nodded more. "You just happen to have magic now, and it became an illusion fulfilled by your Animus, your male-self, earlier today. Although, that illusion did burn part of the forest." Faith giggled. Barbara and Stephanie chuckled. "Good, that tells me you're not angry at yourself for that."

"I'm not trying to say you should suck it up and get over it, OK, hon? I just want you to know that you've been heard, and that you have permission to move on from your friends." Barbara said. Faith's eyes leaked, and she sniffled. "It's OK." Barbara whispered. Faith cried three tones, and turned while sitting up to hug Barbara, who returned the hug. Stephanie sat up and held Faith from behind, wrapping her arms around Faith's stomach. They were quiet for a full minute. "You gonna be OK with her, Steph?"

"Yeah. She said she just wants cuddles. We're family, now. I really shouldn't hit on her. I won't, again."

"Oh, I get that, that's good. And sisterly cuddling sounds lovely. I'll leave you two alone, then."

"Thank you." Faith said in her tears. "For not saying I'm horrible."

Barbara clicked her tongue and stroked Faith's hair. "I don't think you've never been horrible, Faith. You dealt with the hand you were given as well as you could, all alone. We're here for you, OK? No more dealing with yourself and the world alone." Faith nodded, sniffling. Barbara removed herself from the bed as Faith and Stephanie laid down, and then Barbara left the room. She approached Dick and Tim, and said, "Let's, uh, go downstairs to talk about this."

Barbara, Dick and Tim arranged themselves near the computer. They were all crying, Tim and Dick red with anger. "I'm going to friggin' cap Ra's in the nutsack, when I see him." Dick growled.

"I'll take his head off." Said Tim, sniffling. "He doesn't deserve to know the real reason Faith's so defensive with him, or why she caved in and gave him a little satisfaction and control."

"Yep." Said Dick.

"Damn right." Barbara said.

Tim said, "She let him take her here just so she could stop being alone, for once. W-We can't let her into his hands."

"Yeah, what happened this morning is all he's getting." Dick said.

"Agreed." Said Barbara.

Dick said to Barbara, a fresh tear rolling down his cheek. "I'm so sorry I looked at her like that, Babs."

"Dick, I-I think that was OK, in a way. She was laughing about it. Like Steph said, none of us are going to take advantage of her."

"Yeah." Dick mumbled, sniffling and wiping his eyes.

"We're, we're gonna be the best friends she could ever have." Tim said. Barbara and Dick nodded firmly, humming in accord. "And we're gonna make her into a really awesome Batgirl." Barbara lifted her cheeks and nodded. Dick nodded, too.

"How about we, uh, call it a night, boys?" Barbara said. Tim and Dick nodded.

"I'm gonna make her a "We're so sorry" gift basket." Tim said. Dick and Barbara laughed.

"Hell yeah, she'd love that."

Dick said, "Do you even know what to put in it so she doesn't tell you that she doesn't like something you picked out, but appreciates it anyways?"

"Oh yeah, I've got it all figured out. Lactose-free chocolate, a couple of fantasy related toys, maybe a nice plushie, something to read, and I'm guessing she's a Skittles kind of girl."

"Oh, for sure, she's a Skittles kind of girl." Barbara said, Dick laughing.

"Hm, Original, Sour or Berry?"

"Go with Original."

"Right. Or maybe I'll do Original and Berry?"

"How big is this basket gonna be, Tim?" Dick said, laughing.

"Oh, as big as I can make it." The three laughed. "Should I put a gift card for something in there, do you think?"

"Ooh, that's a good idea." Barbara said. "I had a look in her bag, and I think she does like fashion."

"Perfect."

"But she thrifts. She told me about her favourite outfit."

"Oh, OK, so maybe I'll get her a gift card for the book store at the mall instead, or for the game store. Heck, why not both?"

"Why not?" Barbara enthusiastically repeated.

Tim sighed. "OK, I'm done. Goodnight!" Tim began to go upstairs.

"Goodnight." Said Barbara and Dick.

"I'll get flowers!" Dick called out.

"OK!" Tim replied.

"Oh, she would love that."

"I'm guessing lilies are her favourite."

"I think so, yeah."

"Shall we head to bed to, babe?"

"Yes," Barbara said, starting to walk towards the stairs with Dick. "I think I've had enough brain activity for one night."

Sunday, February 11, 2024. 7:30 AM.

Barbara and Dick were cooking breakfast, and Tim was lounging upstairs on the couch when Stephanie and Faith emerged from the bedroom. "Well, good morning!" Tim said.

"Good morning." Faith said, groggily but smiling.

"Feeling better?"

"Now that I slept and took my meds, and had a bit of candy from my bag that I brought over, which surprisingly didn't expire during its trip from Earth-33, yes."

"Oh, good." Tim said, laughing, then Faith entered the bathroom and shut the door. Stephanie sighed. "Are you good?"

"Yeah. She had me worried, last night, before Barbara came in. I slept good too, i-it was just a shock to hear that the reason Ra's is affecting her so deeply is from a memory like that." Stephanie said. Tim nodded, humming. "Dick and Barbara are downstairs cooking?"

"Yep. Should be just about done. Then we're on for training, if Faith is OK with that."

"Actually, I have to make an errand, so you'll have to save me a plate."

"Sure, not a problem."

"Thanks." Stephanie quickened her pace towards the stairs. Faith emerged from the bathroom with combed hair, and a smiling Tim walked her downstairs.

"So, who's your favourite turtle?"

"Oh, Raphael."

"Oh, ha ha! So it's not that far of a leap for your favourite Robin to be Jason."

"Yeah, I've got a type of fictional man."

"Who's your most problematic fictional male crush?"

Faith sighed. "Ruvik from The Evil Within."

"Oh, wow, that's a choice all right!" Tim and Faith laughed.

"What?" Barbara said, laughing, as Tim and Faith came to and sat at the table, where Barbara and Dick sat beside each other, Tim and Faith across from them. "What about Ruvik from The Evil Within?"

"It's his danger-boy swagger, OK?" Faith said, chuckling.

"Danger-boy swagger?" Repeated Tim, Barbara and Dick.

"Yeah-ha ha. I saw him, and I was like, 'smash', and that's the thought. That's it."

"Oh-ho-ho-kay!" Said Tim.

Stephanie returned with a small box of white chalk, seeing the table had been cleared but a plate covering another plate on the kitchen counter, and Faith practicing blocking with Tim, Dick coaching, arms open, eyes watching Faith's movement. Barbara was interacting with the computer. "Yes, and then down, yes. Yes, eh, a little more force, if you can?"

"Hngh!"

"Yeah, like that!"

"Ow." Faith mumbled.

"Her forearms, Dick."

"I know, they're short and the bones are bowed, so it hurts more for her."

"Volleyball, but so much worse." Faith groaned.

"Again, please."

Stephanie lifted her left hand, which held the box. "I got the chalk for you!"

"Oh, thanks! Um, later." Faith said, as she and Tim continued the motions.

"Okie!" Stephanie put the box of chalk down on the desk area.

"You want to get your other Relics today?" Said Dick.

"Yeah. I thought that might be a good idea. Ra's has surely gone back into Platonia to look for more information, and Platonia might have directed him Backstage. The Staff, probably scared shitless, told him about the Backdoor, which goes into the eighth grade hallway of my high school, which the Rondo Theatre is in."

"Right, the theatre is the high school auditorium."

"Ra's might have explored a little, realised he was in a dream world, but not have known its name, ow!"

"Sorry!" Said Tim. "Try raising your arm a little like this."

"Oh, like this?"

"Yes, and then back to!"

"Oof, OK," Faith said. Dick chuckled. "And then he might have tried to wake up. If he did, he'd be back in Platonia, and he'd start a timeloop that would only break if he left the school. So, Ra's, outside and standing on campus, would have either been faced with the existential dread of the O-type star or the moon as they are in the Dream World On Paper, or looked at the sky and felt no fear."

"The latter option."

"OK, so then he wouldn't have woken up. He's still looking for information, so he's been around Mansion 1, the Town Play, and has talked to the dreaming people, people in a coma, and people who live in the 28 Mansions as their afterlife."

"Right, I remember."

"Bend your knees but not your back a little, hon!" Said Barbara.

"Ow, mmph, OK. Like, ow, this?"

"Yes, good."

"Either Ra's was pulled into the kind of the conversation that normally starts when you meet a neighbour or a new acquaintance, something you do when you're just dreaming and letting things happen,"

"Mhm." Said Dick.

"Or he might have observed a conversation, but either way, he would have realised the statuses of the Town Play citizens. He might have asked where to learn more about Red Storm Earth, or if they knew who I was. He might have asked directly, 'Can you tell me about Red Storm Earth?'. The citizens would have told him that it's a Staged Scenario, and all of the details, and that because it's Staged, it doesn't actually happen. It's just an elaborate and convincing Special Event that can be performed at the Rondo Theatre. That would anger Ra's, and he'd probably ask why, or have said 'It won't be that way for much longer.', and attacked, and the poor citizen would be woken up or returned to Mansion 0 and required to walk the Landfill Where Loved Things Go to the Staff Office, and from there receive a go-ahead from one of the workers to take the elevator back up. If he hit someone in a coma, they'd die and go to Mansion 0, too."

"Anyway, Ra's would have asked the nearest citizen, scared shitless of course, about who I really was, and how to acquire me, heugh," Faith made a vomitting noise.

"Swiper no swiping!" Said Stephanie. The group laughed.

"And the citizen would have told Ra's that I'm just an author, the creative mind behind Thalassic Space, that none of it's real if I'm not alive and no one has been approved as Editor of my documents, and that Ra's can't have me. Ow!"

"Mind your ribs!" Said Tim.

"They, or another citizen, would have said that Thalassic Space only has evil because evil people have Soul Bridges and have been to the Dream World on Paper, people like Ra's. Another person would have called the Oracles by then, and they would appear and try to kick Ra's out of the Dream World on Paper. It would be a battle, instead, since Ra's' status as a demon means that you have to literally pull him out of the Dream World on Paper. We might not have all day until he critically injures or kills an Oracle, the latter of which would be one hell of a scary accomplishment. Ra's' Passive Ability that I will remind you is only applicable when in Thalassic Space, Demonic Insight, would have told him to take the robes of that Oracle, giving him Dreamer Mage powers. He might have accepted that suggestion, and the Oracles would flee, taking the citizens into shelter. Ra's would be bored, probably, and then return here. Well, to wherever he fell asleep. I doubt that Argophael threw him all the way home. I was just aiming for him to land on the other side of the ocean."

"So he's somewhere in Europe or Africa, which is close to home." Said Dick.

"Yep. Ah-ha-ow!" Faith began to cry, and rub her right bicep.

"Sorry, but that would have happened." Tim said.

"I know, but my nerves are right there."

"Sorry. You OK?"

"Yeah, just ow. Let's keep going."

Dick said, "Good. Reset a little, TIm."

"Um, so regardless of where he landed, he's done playing games and trying to get information. I don't think he's going to learn about the Invitation of Nerobzal. I think the League has, though."

"Oh?" Said Dick.

"Yeah. Ra's might have touched the entrance door, or opened it, on either of his visits. He could have walked to the town and figured out where he was. When I sent him home, the first time, he definitely told the assassins where the door was. They've been in my tomb. My cat anthro friends didn't stop them. They hid immediately. Anthros have a heightened sixth, seventh and eighth sense, which are vestibular, proprioceptive and interoceptive. It's part of the mutation their Five Mortal Qualities undergo when a fetus is exposed to more than five minutes of magic. Embryos and sperm can also be mutated this way."

"Right," Tim said. "And as a result, sixty-five percent of Thalassic Space's population are anthros."

"Yes. Uh, so if Ra's used Platonia to return to the Dragon Tomb with the League, they snooped around my tomb, whoops!"

"I'm fine, I'm fine! That was good!"

"OK, good! Um, they killed the draugr, probably taking treasure, and awakened the Dragon Priests again. I have no doubt that they were defeated and at least one qA eaten alive by the Dragon Priests, and then the rest fled. Keep in mind that the Dragon Priests are Actors too, so if one gets killed, someone else just fills the Role."

"Mhm." Said Dick.

"Platonia returned whatever assassins were alive home, but a door opened for Ra's into my high school in the Dream World on Paper, probably one of the classroom doors as I was entering the gym hallway, and then he followed me and what happened next happened. Anyway, geez, long way to get to what I was saying, I just didn't want it to be out of the blue."

"You're fine, we appreciate the thought." Said Dick.

"Thanks."

"You're so good at telling stories!" Said Stephanie.

Faith melodically said, "Thank you. Um, so Ra's might go there one more time. He's either going to fight the Dragon Priests again, or he's going to look closer at the lower level of the first two rooms and realise there's a pattern. It's the solution to the small door in the third room that's a little like a maze, and has some standing draugr sarcophagi around it, along with some empty vertical alcoves that have candles, pots and gold, ya know, as Skyrim dungeons do."

"Mhm."

"Beyond that door is my Puzzle Tower, which I will remind you is also guarded by cat anthros. Either Ra's was like, 'Aw, hell no!'," Faith said. Stephanie and Barbara giggled. "And turned back, not wanting to waste his time, or he explored a little. In one of those rooms is my Dragon Hoard. All of the non-performative art gifts I've received are stored there. In the back-right of the room is a traditional ram horn instrument guarded by a slumbering black goat. This horn can summon Naamah. Ra's would have been drawn to this room, and wouldn't need to find the solution to its puzzle because that horn would have called him to find it and use it. Naamah would pity Ra's for being given the blue-ball treatment by a Cultist of Asherah, and given him a fresh Nest."

The others widened their eyes, parted their lips, held their breaths. Tim stopped moving. Noticing a moment later, so did Faith. Dick was out of wind. "No." He made eye contact with Faith.

"The horn is meant for the people of Thalassic Space to abort an unwanted anti-Christ or insect demon without dying. Not everyone is comfortable or wanting dark magic in their family or community. The only place that was desired was Bafsina, before the Palette Civil War. Ra's could just cut my stomach open, stuff the Nest in there, and I would die."

"No." Dick shook his head.

"You would have to drench me in boiling saltwater or burn me to stop its spread, of course."

"No." Dick shook his head furiously.

"Ra's won't want to cause disasters that are just fake, for show on Stage. He'll want to hurt me. And he won't want sex, anymore."

"No!" Dick closed the distance between him and Faith, coming between her and Tim. "You can't just make stuff up like this!"

"It's not made up, Dick." Said Tim.

"I don't want to hear it!"

"It's true, though. It's in the document, along with the other magical items that can summon various angels, demons and entities. It would be that easy for Ra's to just get it over with."

Dick sighed heavily with his chest. "So we don't have time, or even a flipping chance, to help you defend yourself."

Faith shook her head. "Ra's is angry. I don't think this is going to end well, and it's going to end soon. It might end today, with how easily Ra's can access Platonia, and come back."

"Could he come here?"

"If he knows I'm here, yes. He'll try the Batcave, first. Or, he could ask the Umbrella Man where I am. It wouldn't be cheating. It would be asking for directions out of Platonia to the desired destination, and since Ra's is a demon, the Umbrella Man would see him as a friend."

"Frick!" Dick gripped his hair with both hands. "Faith, why did you make it so easy for him?!"

"Because Thalassic Space is supposed to be friendly. So it's friendly to intruders, if the intruder becomes a friend to the Nero Spirits and-or canonical evils."

Dick dropped his hands and shook his head, making eye contact with Faith. Faith had curled her arms up around her chest. Barbara said, "Dick, you're scaring her."

"She should be scared! You know what you've done, right?"

Faith slowly said, "Offer him an easy way out?"

"Yes, and an easy way to kill you!" Dick sighed and shook his clawed hands in the air in front of him, gesturing to Faith, who looked to the floor. Dick sighed again. "I'm sorry, I, I just can't let you let this happen."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Take it away from him." Dick pointed to the desk, where Faith's Chromebook sat. "Open up your document, and change it. Make it so that demons who aren't from Thalassic Space can't use Platonia or any powers from Thalassic Space."

"What's the reasoning behind it, though?"

"Are you seriously asking that?"

"I need a reason and a connection to a god, demon or entity for it to make sense within Thalassic Space's logic."

"THEN MAKE ONE UP!" Dick shouted. Faith moved her left side away from Dick, and hurried to her computer. She opened it. It started up slow. Dick stood behind her, arms crossed.

"Dick." Barbara said, cautiously.

"No."

"Dick, give her some space." Dick looked at Barbara. He huffed and turned, walking away and leaning on part of the desk near Barbara. Faith entered her password, waited about ten seconds for the app icons to load, and opened Microsoft Word. She pressed CTRL + F, and typed "Horn of Naamah". She began to edit the section. She hummed, eyes on the ceiling. "What is it, hon?"

"I don't know the Egyptian gods off the top of my head, I need the list of who's related to the afterlife and evil. Doesn't have to be both, just one of the two."

"Well, that's Anubis, the god of death, and Apopis is the god of chaos."

"Perfect, thank you. What does Apopis look like?"

"He's a serpent."

"What colour is he, usually?"

"What colour?"

"Yeah, look up images and tell me if he's black, gold or something." Faith said. Barbara typed on the computer. "Just for a quick entry into the Character List. I've only got the ones I've needed, so far. Every god in the pantheons I haven't needed is just implied, not named or described."

"He's gold with blue details, hon."

"Ooh, perfect, thank you." Faith typed for five minutes. "OK! I think that's enough."

"Let's see." Barbara walked over and looked at Faith's screen. "Yeah, OK."

"Do you wanna read how I described Apopis?"

"Sure." Faith clicked on his named in the Outline. Barbara read.

"Mm, yeah, that's good! I like that."

"Thank you." Faith turned her back to look at Dick. "I'm not angry that you were so agitated by the loophole. I'm actually glad that you reacted. It's not easy, writing with no feedback. Things fall through all the time, and it won't all make sense without help."

Dick sighed, and softly smiled. "Thank you for not taking it personally, Faith." He approached, and hugged her. "I'm sorry for scaring you."

"It's OK, I forgive you." Faith patted his upper right shoulder. Dick broke the hug, and found a smile on Faith's face. Dick sighed again, his smile growing. "So, now that I've taken away Ra's access to my stuff, can we go back to training?"

"Of course. How about we give Tim a break, and you go against me?"

"OK!"

"Good! Enough!" Dick said. Faith rolled to the right, ending her straddle of him, into a stand. She was making eye contact with Tim.

"Are you OK?" Tim asked. Dick grunted as he flung himself onto his feet, crouching then straightening.

"Was that a bounce?" Faith looked shocked, her mouth gaping.

"Was what a—?"

"Yeah, that was a little bit of a bounce." Said Dick. Faith smiled widely, teeth apart.

"Oh! So, your body is trying to remember how to jump again!"

"I think so! Eee!" Faith clapped.

"Oh, that's awesome!" Said Barbara.

"Yay, Faith!" Stephanie said.

"Woo hoo!" Dick said. "Well, we'll move onto that tomorrow, then, and see how that goes, yeah?"

"Yeah!"

"Good."

"Would you like some help in the shower again, Miss Faith?" Barbara said, coming towards Faith. Dick went to the kitchen to help Tim and Stephanie finish preparing dinner.

"Eh, maybe?"

"I think so. C'mon." Barbara and Faith began to the stairs. Faith stumbled as she took the first corner, and Barbara caught her back and left shoulder. "Whoop!"

"Aa! Thanks!" Faith said, as Barbara set Faith down.

"No problem!" They entered the bathroom, Barbara closing the door and watched Faith undress, groaning in pain occasionally, and put her clothes on the counter, as Barbara removed her own clothes. "There's our pretty little Batgirl." Faith giggled. 'Glad that's still an instant pick-me-up.'

Barbara helped Faith step over the bathtub. Barbara turned on the water, Faith sighing in content. Faith hummed a Tohou Eurobeat song.

"What T.E.B. song is that?" 'Yesterday, it was little flare.' Barbara said, helping Faith apply shampoo.

"Gensou ga nari yamanai."

"The Fantasy That Does Not Stop Echoing. Do you know the lyrics to that one, too?" Barbara applied shampoo to her own hair. 'Her Japanese pronounciation isn't that bad. You can tell she listened to it lots, as a teenager.'

"Mhm!"

"Seikou no ura ni

Dare mo kitto shiranu saidosutori..." As Faith sang, Barbara helped Faith wash out her hair, apply conditioner, and wash that out too.

"Itsuka gensou yori tooku made

Sono ude ni tsukame Legend of Shade. That's it."

"Yay!" Barbara cheered, a little bit quietly. The girls giggled. "I will say it again: you're pretty good at singing."

"Thanks." Faith grabbed the loufa and applied Dove refreshing body wash with cucumber and green tea to it. "I'm just a light lyric, like I said yesterday, so nothing fancy, but I get the job done pretty all right."

"Oh, I think you're better than 'pretty all right'. I think you have a very nice singing voice." Barbara said, as Faith washed her arms.

Faith blushed, smiling. "Thank you." Faith cleaned her arms, stomach and legs as she continued talking. "And, like I said, I don't usually sing in front of people 'cause Mom said I don't sound good, but my choir teacher said I'm not bad, so I'm confused and embarrassed."

"Aw, I know, hon. Confidence is a hard thing, for lots of people. And, like I also said, yesterday, you will get better, now that you've got us, and even we have our days, m'kay?" Barbara said. Faith nodded. Barbara helped wash Faith's back and shoulders before rinsing out the loufa and giving it more soap and using it for herself. Faith turned off the water, then the shower head, and the girls stepped out and used separate towels to dry themselves, and separate hair brushes to untangle their hair. They redressed and went downstairs, where dinner had been laid out on the table: stir fry with steak strips, bell peppers, cherry tomatoes, snap peas, broccoli and cauliflower.

"Ooh, yum!" Said Faith, as she sat beside Stephanie and Barbara sat at the right head of the table, Dick to her left and Tim beside him.

"You like stir fry?" Said Tim.

"Hard to mess that up!"

"True. Well, dig in."

"Please use the tongs." Said Dick. They all laughed.

"I'd be a monster to use my hands for this." Faith said, grabbing the tongs and filling her plate. Everyone filled their plates, and quietly ate for several minutes.

Dick said, "You've made a lot of progress, in two days, for someone with disability."

"Thank you!" Said Faith. "It hurts, but I can tell I'm actually learning fast, so I think it's worth it."

"Oh, definitely."

"Mhm!" Barbara and Stephanie commented.

"Yeah." Tim added. They reviewed, correcting Faith and filling in gaps in her knowledge of how what she'd been learned worked, and why, and describing a few alternatives they hadn't shown her yet, noting which ones might be impossible for her until she became a lot more agile and gained more core and overall strength. Stephanie and Dick served more apple pie and ice cream for dessert.

"So, who's your favourite Tohou?" Tim asked.

"Oh God." Faith replied. They all laughed. "The one I wanna kiss, the one I wanna be? Which emotion, aha ha ha, do you want me to have towards this Tohou?"

"Whatever emotion you want, I don't care, just tell me about your favourite Tohou." This led into a ramble about Tohou Project that lasted for forty-five minutes. Somehow, Faith ate her ice cream before it melted, and finished her pie. The group moved upstairs to play Wii Sports Resort, and Faith was still going.

"And that's why I'm super gay, and super not sorry." Faith took a bow, flourishing her arms, a Wii remote strapped to her right wrist. The others laughed. "Once again:" In a very good toad voice, "MARRY ME, MARISSA! And that's just up to Mountain of Faith, in brief detail! I didn't even talk about the lore, I was just talking about the girls, and their patterns, and what they mean, and their relationships, and what I've learned from all of that," A sharp inhale. "I haven't even started to tell you what I've learned about storytelling or how awesome ZUN's music is," Another inhale. "Which is why I love Tohou Eurobeat so much!" Faith panted, then focused on Swordplay versus Stephanie. The friends laughed more. "Bippity boppity, your points are now my property!"

"Oh, shit!" Stephanie said, laughing. After everyone caught their breath, the group talked about Nintendo's history, and present, and eventually it was eight o'clock. Dick and Barbara suited up and went on patrol, and Tim went out for a date with Bernard, leaving Stephanie and Faith to play Mario Party 8 with each other and bots until it was 10:30, and Faith had to take her medications. They called it a night, changing into sleepwear and sharing the bed again.

Click emoji to navigate to next chapter ⏭️

#dc comics fanfiction #dc comics #dc crossover #batfam #batfam oc #stephanie brown #the spoiler #barbara gordon #batgirl #tim drake #red robin #dick grayson #nightwing #thalassic space #the tomb of the goshenite stargazer dragon #starwriterulia writes

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cheeto-flavoured-pasta · 6 months ago

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Writeblr Intro, Part Two

Fuck yeah, I’m doing this again, because the other one sucked.

As the URL says, I’m cheeto-flavoured-pasta. Or just Cheeto. Or Pasta. I really don’t care. This was meant to be a strict writeblr-only, but I ditched it halfway through. This is a writeblr account, sure, but I do post/reblog other off-topic things (e.g. memes, rants, politics, etc.). Most of those are tagged under “not writeblr.”

I’m a hobbyist writer hoping to publish officially one day. I’ve hopped around online writing platforms (e.g Tapas or Webnovel; I am very hesitant about using Wattpad, sorry) but currently I’m not very active on many of them. I mostly write science fiction, dystopia (a mix of the two, really), with a side of some fantasy or contemporary works. Genre fiction aside, I occasionally dabble in poetry, be it free-verse, rhyming, or prose poems.

*WIP List Under The Cut!*

APS [A Powerful Secret]

Genre: Sci-fiction, dystopia, speculative trilogy

Current status: On Break

General Concept: After decades of hiding, superhumans are discovered in a corrupt society.

I’ve talked about this one the most, so I won’t babble for long; most of the info can be found on the APS WIP intro. It’s been my longest-running WIP so far, being a trilogy and all, but I’m currently putting it on the backburner for a while to work on other projects.

Running on Augments

WIP INTRO

Genre: Sci-fi, dystopia, cyberpunk series

Current status: First draft

General Concept [Book One]: It's been a year since Sylvester Strike woke up in the society of Xenom, where people are augmented cybernetically to accommodate to the work they do for the large companies that run the state — the Reform, everyone calls it. Much like everyone else, his memories are hazy, and all he can trust is the story of whatever government official came before him. The moment he tries to move on and accept his situation, his friend goes missing, and in the process, he’s forced to find out not only the real story of what happened before the Reform, but his own past as well.

I haven’t talked about this one at all, and that’s because there’s still some things left to this idea that I’ve yet to flesh out. Expect to hear a lot more about it once I’ve actually started writing it. I’ll definitely be making a WIP intro at some point in the coming months (hopefully. If I forget, show up to my door and slap me).

Aside from my mess of writing and novels and short stories and whatever shit goes on in my brain, here’s some other things to know about this blog:

I might as well get this out of the way first: this blog is pro-Palestine. Zionists and pro-Israel users, please DNI.

Same goes for racists, sexists, TERFs/transphobes, homophobes, ableists--- bigots of any kind, really. I don't tolerate prejudice.

I'm open to tag and ask games, though do note that just because I don't respond to a tag or ask doesn't mean I don't care; it likely slipped my mind.

Writeblr asks like WBW, STS (Worldbuilding Wednesday and Storytelling Saturday) are also welcome, although I might not send them a lot. Trying to get back in the habit of doing so.

I might also post some of my art here on the occasion (using that dingy side blog doesn't really feel right for me). Still working up the courage to do that, but I might drop a few sketches here and there.

Other interests/fandoms: TLoZ (mostly the Breath of the Wild sequence but I swear I’m trying to play the older games), The Magnus Archives/Protocol, Welcome to Night Vale, Malevolent, fiction podcasts in general, really.

That about wraps up everything, I suppose! Thanks for reading, and enjoy your stay here :)

#writeblr #writeblr intro #blog intro #introduction #introduction post #pinned intro #writers on tumblr #writing community

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roman-writing · 4 years ago

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bring home a haunting (9/12)

Fandom: The Haunting of Bly Manor

Pairing: Dani Clayton/Jamie Taylor

Rating: M

Wordcount: 19,386

Summary: Dani almost has her life together, when a familiar face arrives back in town after ten years. A childhood friends AU written with @youngbloodbuzz

read it below or read it on AO3 here

IX: 1987

It wasn't Jamie at Thanksgiving.

Jamie bringing Mikey. Jamie being charming. Jamie seated at the table with the whole family as though she’d never left. It wasn’t the way Dani had sat two seats down from her, wishing she could be close enough that their legs pressed together beneath the table, and in turn resenting herself for desiring such a thing in the first place. Here. Where Dani was surrounded by her fiancé and her future in-laws. Burying her nose in her wine glass against her better judgement until by the end of the night she had felt off-kilter, until she had needed to retreat to the bathroom to splash her face with cold water and sit atop the toilet seat with her head buried in her hands just to be alone for two minutes.

It wasn't Eddie's announcement that he'd booked the botanical gardens as their wedding venue for the next year.

Eddie telling her proudly after work one evening. Eddie listing off all the ways the venue suited their requirements. Eddie expecting her to be relieved that he’d taken such initiative to lift this burden from her shoulders, to allow her to focus on things like flower arrangements, and bridesmaids, and card stock for invitations. Dani had taken the news in stride. Her smile had been broad enough to pull at the seams until she felt like she might split open. She had let him kiss her on the cheek and take her out to dinner. She had let him place his coat around her shoulders, let him place his hand at the small of her back, let him place his hand on her knee the whole ride home.

It wasn’t even her mother dragging her off to Davenport on the weekend to try on wedding dresses.

The long car ride. Her mother in the driver’s seat, while Dani had tried to avoid conversation by staring at scenery through the window. Karen picking at every detail of the dresses that Dani had lingered over – this was too long, this was too ivory, this revealed too much of her back. Dani had let Karen speak with the store attendant instead, walking along a row of sumptuous dresses – innumerable yards of lustrous silk and satin, of muslin, velvet and lace – and unable to imagine herself in a single one. And after lunch, Dani had walked along the riverbank, gazing out across the sun-glinted water, and had thought faintly to herself that this was as close as she’d ever been to the state border. Wondered if she tried to sprint across the bridge, if she would be flung back, pulled by some greater gravity.

It was her car dying. That was what finally did it.

She'd had to call a tow, and Roger Simmons had let her hop into the passenger's seat with a kind smile as he dragged her car behind his truck all the way to the shop. The mechanic spoke like a coroner, coldly addressing what had done the old girl in, while Dani listened, hearing only a high whine in her ears, rising in pitch. In the end, Eddie had to come and pick her up to drive her home. She went in a daze, Jamie's coat draped over her shoulders, a wad of bills clenched in her fist – cash exchanged for scrap metal — and the box of precious things tucked beneath her crossed elbows.

It was the sleepless nights that followed.

It was waking up to sounds of drumming against the walls, a hollow noise, a hollow bang, as though from a fury with an iron glove. And it was waking up again with a jerk, a cold sweat, clutching at her throat and struggling to breathe through the fading nightmare of a rope coiled and snapping taut. Outside, a car in the predawn dark would pace the restless streets, headlamps like eyes lighting up the blue dimity curtains of their bedroom window in passing.

And Eddie slept through it all. Shivering with cold, Dani would curl up against his broad back, wrap an arm around him and lie awake until her body slowly warmed against his, until the rising sun began to tint the world a pallid ghostly grey. By the next morning, she would remember nothing of the terror. Only the cold. The deep and gripping cold.

“Not to be rude or anything,” said Jamie, “but you look like absolute dog shit.”

Now, standing in the doorway to Jamie’s house, Dani laughed. An honest slightly maddened laugh. It was Sunday morning, and Dani could not remember a time when she had felt more tired. She held a bag of food from Owen's that she barely recalled picking up earlier. There was the impression of wandering all that way, as though sleep walking, drifting down the familiar streets and hardly registering the fact that her feet were carrying her to a predetermined destination. As though an internal compass had an arm fixed firmly and pointing towards Jamie.

"Thanks," Dani said when she finally managed to stop laughing — just on this side of hysterics — wiping at the corners of her eyes and smiling weakly.

Jamie stepped aside to let her in and shut the door behind her. "Have you not been sleeping? And where's your car?"

Dani had to swallow back a tightness in her throat. "I sold it," she said, taking off her shoes and setting them to one side. "It died and I sold it."

"Sorry to hear that,” said Jamie and she sounded genuine. “But, hey. If you ever want advice buying a new one and don't know what to look for, I can help."

Dani didn't want a new car. She didn't want any car that wasn't purely her own and nobody else's. A car bought with a joint account. A car chosen on someone else's recommendation — no matter how sensible. None of it was sensible; she didn't want sensible. She wanted to go back to 1981 and purchase a car that let her feel — for the first time in too long a time — free.

There was a gentle touch at her elbow, and Dani tensed. She turned to find Jamie watching her with a kindly expression. "You want a cup of tea?" Jamie asked. "Only — it looks like you need one."

Dani's mouth opened, then shut again. She nodded, drawing in a deep breath. Her morning cup of coffee — Eddie had made it, insisting it was his turn — was a bitter aftertaste in her mouth. The only effect it seemed to have had was increasing her heart rate and leaving her bereft of the ability to sit still without feeling like she was going to self-destruct.

She followed Jamie into the kitchen, answering Jamie's questions with half-phrases and murmurs, distracted by the glance of light through the windows, by the way it seemed to cast Jamie all in bronze. A statue breathed into with life as though by an artist’s hands. Somewhere along the way, Dani had dropped her purse to the floor and sat at one of the bar stools, resting her cheek heavily in one hand.

Jamie set the kettle on a back coil and frowned over at her. "It's only nine, you know. You sure you don't want to have a quick nap before our usual torture via sci fi?"

Dani tried to imagine sleeping on the couch while Jamie puttered around the kitchen, and knew it would be impossible. She shook her head. "Thanks, but your couch is very sunny."

Indeed, the couch was sun-bathed and bright, just visible in the other room. The idea of sleeping there, waking up sweltering where anyone could walk by the house and see her, made her stomach turn.

"Doesn't have to be the couch," Jamie said. "I've a perfectly good bed upstairs."

Dani’s head jerked back. She pointed towards the stairs and said, “You mean — yours?”

"Yeah, unless you want the kid's room," Jamie opened up a cupboard and took out a tin full of tea bags. "Trust me. You don't."

“If - If that’s okay,” Dani said, voice rising in inflection like a question.

Jamie set down the tin. “Said it was, didn’t I? C’mon. Up you get.” She started towards the stairs and gestured for Dani to follow her.

For a moment Dani stayed seated at the counter. She could say no, and Jamie would let her. Jamie wouldn’t insist. Jamie would go back to making tea and small talk until Mikey wandered down for breakfast and television.

Scraping back the stool, Dani stood and trailed after her. Jamie didn’t glance back as they climbed the stairs together. Dani kept a hand on the wood-painted railing all the way up as though the earth might pitch beneath her feet. When they reached the landing, Jamie held up a finger to her lips and pointed at Mikey’s shut door, the two of them slipping past, and then Jamie was pushing open the door to her room.

With a sense of unreality, Dani stepped inside. Her memories of Jamie’s personal space always involved mess, a sort of organized chaos. The years had dampened that only somewhat. A few of Jamie’s clothes were still strewn across the floor and clutter accumulated on the dresser, but the bed was made and the air had that recently vacuumed smell. The curtains were drawn, admitting only a faint sliver of light from the far wall so that the room was pleasantly warm and dark.

Giving Jamie a furtive and apologetic shrug, Dani stepped towards the bed.

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” Jamie said from the doorway as Dani sat on the edge of the mattress, nearest the window.

“Don’t,” said Dani, “let me sleep too long.”

Jamie smiled at her. “Go on. Get some kip,” she said, and pulled the door quietly shut behind her.

Dani listened to Jamie’s footsteps retreating back down the hall. She didn’t realize she was gripping a corner of the sheets in a fist until she felt a dull ache in her hand. Clasping her hands together in her lap, she sat there and stared at the drawn curtains.

This side of the bed had no side table. Then again, Jamie had always preferred the right side of the bed. Somehow that simple knowledge was like a thrilling secret. Dani glanced over at that side, at the half empty glass of water and the faded novel and the pocket knife. Sitting up slightly, Dani tugged out the sheets and slipped beneath them, not bothering to get undressed.

Somehow this was worse than the couch. She was a voyeur in her own skin. Every motion seemed performed outside of herself, viewed by a camera lens through a keyhole. Dani sprawling across the mattress. Dani twisting up in the sheets. Dani pressing her face into the pillows and inhaling deeply. Dani pulling the covers up until her head was all but covered, until she was wrapped up in the familiar warmth and smell, until the sleepless nights came rushing over her, dragging her down, down into the vasty deep.

She awoke to the sounds of voices, distant through the door and down the stairs. Blearily she blinked and squinted around the room. The first thing she registered was that the bed was oriented incorrectly; it should have been up against the other wall. And the voices weren’t quite right either. There was the distinct lack of a Scottish burr.

Because it wasn’t 1978, and she wasn’t at the railway cottage, and Ruth Heron had been dead for over a decade.

Five more minutes, she thought muzzily to herself. Just five more minutes and she would wake up.

Five minutes came and went. Head still buried in a pillow, Dani lifted her arm to check her wristwatch. Thirty-five minutes, in fact. She couldn’t remember falling asleep again. Only that she couldn’t think of a time when she wanted to wake up less. Only that Jamie’s bed was far more comfortable than her own, and that even after all these years she could with confidence say she much preferred it.

Pushing herself upright, Dani fumbled with the skin-warm covers. She was swinging her legs over the side of the bed and running a hand through her sleep-mussed hair when she heard a gentle tap on the door.

“You decent?” Jamie’s voice asked from the other side.

Dani’s fingers curled at the hem of her skirt. She said, “Come in.”

The doorknob turned slowly and Jamie poked her head in before the rest of her followed. “Feeling better?” she asked, shutting the door behind her.

Dani lifted her head slightly, remaining perched on the edge of the mattress, angled away from the door. “A little.”

Jamie’s footsteps padded closer and behind her Dani could feel the bed sink down slightly beneath a new weight. She stared down at her own bare ankles. A slit of light through the curtains lapped against the carpet, so that it seemed her feet were underwater.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

A precarious lock of hair fell into Dani’s eyes, and she raked it back with both hands. Her fingers remained tangled there, slumping down so that her wrists rested against her shoulders and she held onto the back of her neck.

“It wasn’t half mine,” she said finally after a long pause. “The car, I mean. It wasn’t half my car. It was just - just mine. Nobody had to lend it to me, or share it with me, or withhold it from me, or - It’s silly, I know. I’m being silly.”

“You’re not.”

Hesitantly, Dani twisted round. Jamie had moved up the bed so that she was leaning easily against the headboard, propped against a pillow. One leg hung over the side of the mattress, and the other was bent at the knee. Ten years ago, Dani would have sank down beside her, would have rested her head in Jamie’s lap or on the perch of Jamie’s shoulder. Now the spread of sheets between them might as well have been the breadth of the Atlantic.

“It’s not silly,” Jamie continued, “wanting something that’s just yours. Not at all.”

“I have this.”

The words spilled out of her before she could properly think over their implications, and Dani rushed to clarify.

“Sundays,” Dani said. “I have - I have my Sundays back, I guess.”

“Not really just yours though, are they?”

“What do you mean?”

Jamie smiled softly and gestured to herself. “Well, I’m here. Taking up your precious Sunday time.”

Dani’s mouth felt dry. “Yeah,” she murmured. “But that’s -”

She didn’t say: ‘different.’ She didn’t say: ‘what I want.’ She meant it, though, and the words hung unspoken between them.

Dangerous, Dani thought. Being here — in Jamie’s bed, still tired, still muddled from sleep, the truth on the tip of her tongue — was dangerous.

Jamie looked away and Dani found she could breathe properly again. She cleared her throat as Jamie moved to stand up without doing so. Gesturing to the bed, Jamie said, “You can keep sleeping, if you want. I can tell the kid to keep it down and do homework, and you can sleep.”

“No,” said Dani faintly, then with more strength, “No, I want to wake up.”

It was far too early in the morning to be teaching children songs to a nativity play. Dani stood at the front of the otherwise empty auditorium with her class, clutching a cup of coffee that she had smuggled out of the teacher’s lounge. It was ten days until Christmas, and not a single one of these kids was ready to perform at the school play. Bless them.

Dani winced when the tune slid distinctly south of the intended key. With a fortifying sip of coffee on her tongue, she shook her head and raised one hand. “Okay, stop! Please! Let’s start from the top again, all right?”

She shot a plaintive look towards Ms. Reeves, who was by this time an institution in and of herself. Ms. Reeves was also the only competent pianist at the school and could sight-read sheet music. With a nod, Ms. Reeves pushed up her thick tortoise shell glasses and struck a chord to orient the kids back to the beginning of the song.

It did not go any better than last time. Not even with Dani slowing them all down and singing various sections by herself, so they could hear the difference. That didn’t seem to help much. If anything, the kids were adamant that she could keep singing so they could just listen and whittle down the clock until freedom. And she couldn’t blame them. She herself kept checking her wristwatch, wondering how many minutes until she was free from the purgatory of work so close to the holidays.

“You know,” she told them once they’d finished, “I’m not the one that’s going to be singing in front of all your parents.”

“But you’re much better at singing, Miss Clayton.”

“Yeah, you should just do the performance for us. We’ll be back up dancers.”

Dani gave a snort of laughter and rolled her eyes. “Well, that’s very flattering, but ultimately unhelpful. And it’s definitely not happening. So, we’re going to practise again tomorrow. All right?”

A chorus of whines answered. Dani held up a hand and began shooing them off the stage, “I don’t want to hear it. This is your only homework this week. So, you’re welcome. Go. Go on.”

It did not take much urging. They went with talk amongst themselves, shared excitement and laughter at being let free. One or two of them gave her a wave in passing.

“Bye, Miss Clayton.”

Dani smiled. “Bye, Mikey. See you later.”

Mikey trotted after a small group of his friends, shouldering his star-splashed backpack. At the piano, Ms. Reeves was shuffling together the sheet music and stashing it in the compartment hidden in the seat before she too shuffled towards the exit, trailing after the children.

Still on stage, Dani called out after her, “Thank you, Ms. Reeves! I’ll see you tomorrow!”

No sooner had the door shut behind her however, than it opened again. Dani, who had begun cleaning up after the kids — the last thing the janitor needed was to sweep this whole place when it would just take a few minutes of her time to pick up the bits of litter that seemed to accumulate wherever a pack of children roamed — glanced up, expecting to see that perhaps one of her students had left something behind. Instead, Hannah walked into the auditorium, her heels clicking against the polished floors.

“Oh, hi!” Dani greeted with an absentminded smile, even as she ducked down and tucked a few crumpled wrappers into her pocket for disposal later. “Fancy seeing you here!”

“Just doing the rounds,” said Hannah. “Finished some paperwork early.”

“Lucky you,” Dani drawled. She dropped down to one knee and reached under a stand to fish out a piece of paper that had been left behind. Someone’s old homework, no doubt. “I still have to -” she pushed herself upright, careful not to spill what remained of her coffee “- enter last week’s tests into the system. Good grief, how do they always leave so much trash everywhere? They were only here for forty minutes.”

Hannah climbed the stairs to join her on stage, the two of them arrayed like actors before an absent audience. “So, how many ear plugs should I bring this year?” she asked.

“At least two pairs for you and me,” Dani answered, sharing a small smile with her.

“Nothing for your beau? I didn’t think you the type to let him suffer alone.”

Dani laughed. She folded up the page of old homework and slipped it into her pocket. “This isn’t one of the events he’ll want to come to. Trust me.”

Hannah cocked her head to one side. “And what of Miss Taylor?”

Taken aback, Dani blinked and fumbled for a response. “Jamie? Well, she’s not - I mean - We’re just friends.”

Hannah gave her an odd look. “Of course. I was only asking if she would be attending to see her brother.”

“Right,” said Dani. “Yeah. Yeah, she’ll be here.”

When Hannah simply watched her curiously, Dani tucked a lock of hair behind one ear and sipped at her near empty cup of coffee. It had gone completely cold and bitter, despite the copious amounts of sugar and creamer she had added earlier.

“Have you worked out the catering yet?” Dani asked. Anything to fill the dead space, to divert Hannah’s too clever, too perceptive, too gentle gaze.

The corner of Hannah’s mouth quirked in a knowing smile, but all she said was, “Yes. I thought I’d take your advice, actually.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve been in touch with the owner of that cafe in town,” Hannah said. “And Owen has gladly agreed to be the school’s supplier for the after show event.”

“Owen , huh?” Dani repeated, grinning. “Not Mr. Sharma?”

“Shall we play that game, Miss Clayton?” Hannah said, and though her tone was light the look she shot Dani was warning.

Clearing her throat, Dani turned the empty cup between her hands and glanced away. “Point taken,” she said weakly.

For a moment she feared that Hannah would press. A shiver of utter dread wormed its way up Dani’s throat, locking her jaw in place like a coroner’s wire sewn through the gaps in her teeth. Hannah knew. If not the specifics, Hannah knew something. She had seen the flowers. She had seen Dani and Jamie interacting at school events and camping trips. She had seen Dani spiraling at the Halloween fair, had calmed her down in the shadow of the old brick building, and sat with her until Dani could gather the pieces of herself together again. It’s all right , she had said. It’s all right.

And even though Hannah said nothing now, the words hung between them. They were alone in the school auditorium, on stage before an empty crowd, and Dani could not shake the feeling that if she looked up, there would be a bucket teetering in the rafters over her head.

“Do you have any plans for the holidays, dear?”

The question was so casual it took Dani a moment to register that Hannah had once again allowed her to slip away, unscathed and unnoticed.

“Just the usual,” Dani said. “Home with my mother and the future in-laws.”

“Well, that’s something, isn’t it?”

Dani smiled. Something. Yeah. It sure was. Another year at Judy’s house. The last year until she was another Mrs. O’Mara in a family full of Mrs. O’Maras.

“And you?” Dani asked.

With a sigh and a one-shouldered shrug, Hannah said, “The holidays are always quiet for me. I left my life back in England, when I came to America.”

“Why not,” Dani gestured with the cup towards the auditorium at large, “go back? Don’t you ever travel anymore?”

“Oh,” said Hannah, sounding surprised. “Not really, no. Apart from coming here. But that was a bit of a spur of the moment decision to follow -” she cleared her throat and whatever she had been about to say was replaced instead by, “Well, to follow a job opportunity, I suppose.”

“Do you miss it?” Dani asked. “Home, I mean?”

Hannah smiled gently. “Is it home, I wonder? I cannot say. I miss people. But — well. I have people here now, don’t I?” And she grasped Dani’s arm with a brief warm touch.

Dani blinked in surprise. “Of course. Yeah. You know, you could - you could come over. If you wanted.”

“That’s very kind of you, but not this year, I think.”

“Hey,” said Dani softly, and she reached out as if to grasp Hannah by the elbow, to return the gesture, only to let her hand fall back to her side instead. “I know I call you ‘Mrs. Grose’ and all that, but that’s not — I think of you as a friend.”

“Does that mean I can expect to receive a wedding invitation?” Hannah asked slyly, avoiding Dani’s well-meaning American earnestness with all the finesse of an Englishwoman incapable of stomaching such bald sincerity.

Dani laughed. “I’ll make sure to sign the invitation myself.”

“Very good.”

“So,” Dani nudged Hannah’s foot with her own, “Next year? Christmas? You’ll come over?”

Hannah chuckled warmly. “Next year.”

There was a blanket of snow across the ground and Dani had elected to wear heels. Simple navy dress shoes. Just enough to give her an extra two inches of height and match her outfit. The moment she opened the car door and was met with a bank of snow along the curb side, she scrunched up her nose and weighed up her chances at being able to step over it. Her skirt probably wouldn’t give her the range of movement.

She was still pushing at the quirks of her gloves, when Eddie said from the driver’s seat, “I got it.”

He stepped out of the car, door slamming behind him, and rounded the car so that he could kick a path through the snow for her. Then, holding out his hand, he grinned. “Think Mark will hire me as the new plough driver?”

“You missed your calling,” Dani replied. She took his hand, giving it a grateful squeeze and allowing herself to be pulled up and out of the car.

“Well, if this council role fails, at least I have that.”

He didn’t bother locking the car as they made their way up the street towards his parent’s house. Dani kept her hand tucked into the crook of his elbow, shoulders hunched up and huddled beneath her jacket. The pavement had been salted and was bare of snow or ice. Great plumes of white feathered the night air with every breath. Dani shivered.

“God, I can’t wait for spring,” she muttered under her breath.

He chuckled, then took her hand and pressed it into his pocket, wrapped up in his hand for warmth. “You could’ve just worn boots, you know,” Eddie said. “I hear ski jumpsuits are very chic nowadays.”

“I think my mother would kill me.”

“We could write Dior across the back with a bedazzler. That way she couldn’t complain.”

Dani snorted with laughter before she could stop herself, biting back a wide grin. She nudged him in the ribs with her elbow. “You’re almost as bad as Jamie.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

By some miracle, Dani didn’t slip even once on the short walk to the front door. She ran a quick hand across her hair to ensure it was still coiffed to perfection while Eddie knocked. They didn’t actually wait for anyone to answer. Knocking was more of a courtesy. The moment after Eddie knocked, he turned the handle and pushed the door inwards to admit them, calling out, “We made it!”

“Merry Christmas!” a few voices said in jumbled unison, while Judy called from the kitchen, “Come in! Come in!”

“Shut the door while you’re at it!” Tommy added. “You’re letting out the heat!”

The two of them shuffled inside, shutting the door and pushing off their coats and gloves. Eddie held out his hand to take hers and she gave them to him with a grateful kiss on the cheek, which he ducked down to receive before striding away to hang up their things in a closet around the corner. The house was pleasantly warm and bright. A fire flickered and popped in the hearth. A few of Tommy and David’s kids were playing cards on the rug in front of it. Tommy and David themselves were seated on the couch, chatting with their dad and nursing beers. Their wives were sipping wine; the two had cordoned themselves off by the chairs near the Christmas tree, which was already piled high with presents for tomorrow. Taking off her heels and setting them by the front door, Dani gave the two other women – both sleek, polished, and brunette – a nervous little wave and a smile. They returned it, looking as plasticky as Dani felt.

Already Dani felt herself tense up with quiet dread at the thought of making small talk all night. The section of hard floor by the front door was slightly wet from the residue of snow left when people first stepped inside, and with a grimace she stepped further into the house and onto warm dry carpet. Before she could go any further however, there was another knock at the front door. And this time, it didn’t immediately open after.

Looking around, nobody else seemed to be moving. So, Dani walked back a few steps and opened the door to find her mother standing on the other side, a bottle of red wine under one arm.

“Oh,” said Dani, smiling weakly. “Hi, mom.”

Karen cast an appraising glance across Dani’s appearance – navy skirt, navy jacket, cream-colored blouse, bare-stockinged feet – and her eyebrow rose.

“What? Did you leave your snow boots at home?” Karen asked, moving inside so that Dani had to step out of the way.

Dani sighed. “Merry Christmas, mother.”

Normally that kind of tone would have earned her a sharp-tongued rebuke, but from the couch Mike said jovially, “Karen! Nice to see you!”

Her mother removed her shoes and strode towards the couch to talk. Tommy and David exchanged their pleasantries. Meanwhile, Dani caught Mike’s eye over her mother’s shoulder. He winked at her, but the action was so fast and subtle she might have imagined it.

Making her way past the living room, carefully not catching the attention of Tommy and David’s wives, Dani slipped into the kitchen. There, Carson and Judy were adding the finishing touches to a feast’s worth of food already spread out across the center island, while Eddie rummaged around in the fridge.

“Oh, honey, don’t you look nice,” Judy greeted her with a smile. She gestured Dani closer with a spatula so she could give her a brief one-armed hug and a peck on the cheek before returning to task.

“Hey,” Carson said, flicking a towel at his brother’s backside. “If you’re not going to help, get lost.”

Eddie straightened with a scowl, clutching a can of beer in one hand. “Knock it off, Carson.”

“Mom, tell him to get out of the kitchen.”

“Get out of the kitchen, Eddie,” said Judy in an absentminded tone, busy carving an enormous glazed ham and plating the slices.

Eddie shut the fridge door and said, exasperated, “Why do you always side with him?”

“Because she likes me more than she likes you,” Carson whisper shouted, dodging out of the way when Eddie took a swipe at the back of his head.

Which was, of course, exactly when Judy chose to look up from her carving, her face a fixed scowl of displeasure. “Edmund! On Christmas? Really?”

“Wha -?” Eddie pointed at Carson, but whatever excuse he’d been about to say died on the tip of his tongue as his mother returned to what she’d been doing. “Unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath.

Carson flapped the towel towards the exit to shoo his brother away, and Eddie went, sipping sullenly at his beer. “Not going to save me?” he asked Dani as he passed her in the doorway.

Dani shrugged apologetically but she was grinning when she replied. “Your mom’s house. Your mom’s rules.”

“Smart girl,” Judy murmured.

Eddie left, grumbling all the while. Carson waved cheerily after him and only stopped when Dani gave him a look.

“What?” Carson asked.

“You know what.”

“He was being in the way,” said Carson as though that justified everything. “He’s always being in the way. I thought you of all people would understand that.”

Even Judy shot her an amused glance at that. Dani crossed the room and snatched the dish towel from Carson so she could get started on the pile of pots and pans that had already accumulated in the sink before anyone had eaten a single bite.

Of course she knew that. Better than anyone. Better than any of them could begin to understand.

Instead, all Dani said was, “And we love him anyway. Because that’s what good siblings do. Especially during the holidays.”

Carson rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Fine.”

Running the tap to fill up the sink, Dani flicked him with water, and he ducked away from the splash with a whine of complaint.

“Judy!” called out Mike’s voice from the living room. “Can you bring out a towel and some soap! We’ve had a spill!”

With a sigh, Judy held out her hand for the towel, which Dani was already passing over to her along with a spare bar of soap from the windowsill over the sink. “Thanks, honey. Carson, can you take out the pie for me, please?”

Carson saluted sharply and moved towards the oven. “I’m on it, boss.”

In a bustle, Judy went out into the living room, leaving Dani and Carson alone in the kitchen. From the open door, Dani could hear her say, “Already, Tommy? I told you to be careful.”

“Sorry, mom. Here. I can do it.”

“It was David’s fault, actually.”

“Hey, Ed? Buddy? You want to test the ‘no fight’ rule of Christmas?”

“Boys, please.”

Dani hid a grin. She twisted off the tap and scrounged around in the cupboard beneath the sink for a pair of pink gloves to start the washing up. Beside her, Carson grabbed an oven mitt and a spare towel, and pulled out a pie, resting it atop the stove and switching off the remaining dials.

“Smells great,” Dani said idly as she reached for a scrubbing brush and soap. “You two must’ve been working all afternoon.”

“It was mostly mom, to be honest. Though I was charged with some last minute grocery shopping. The store was a nightmare.”

Dani gave him a sympathetic grimace. With a smile, Carson set down the oven mitt and moved around her so that she could hand off a pan to him for drying.

“Feel like we should leave this for Eddie and the twins to clean up,” said Carson. “Seems only fair.”

Dani shrugged. “I don’t mind.”

“Yeah, but that’s because you’re too nice.” He nudged her shoulder with his own. “Don’t you ever get tired of it?”

“What? Of being nice? No.”

“No?”

She pushed another clean saucepan, still dripping with suds, into his hands and repeated, “No.”

“Your loss,” he sighed dramatically.

They fell into a companionable silence. From the other room they could still hear the goings on of the rest of the family. Dani listened fondly, while beside her Carson began humming a familiar tune under his breath. They worked in tandem, but as Dani placed the song — one of the many she’d heard at his concert in Des Moines — her movements slowed. His humming was but an echo of that night. Of bright neon lights, and a sweat-crowded underground bar, and thrumming noise vibrating the very floor beneath her feet.

“You know I -” Dani started to say, then stopped, not knowing exactly how to continue. “I went looking for you that night. After the performance, I mean.”

“Hmm?” Carson said, idle and wordless, setting aside one pan and reaching for a clean pot that Dani had just finished washing.

The water was murky and soap-riddled in the sink. A few knives were barely visible at the bottom, and there was still more than one pan handle cresting up through the surface like a sunken bowsprit. Eyes glued to the water, Dani set down the scrubber and steadied herself, hands braced against the edge of the sink.

“I found you. I saw you with your - your friend,” she said softly, slowly, picking up pace when he stiffened at her side, realising the implication of her words. “And I know it’s not my business, but I just - I wanted to tell you -”

She glanced up at him. Carson was frozen and wide-eyed, his hands gripping the damp drying towel as though it were a life line, the only thing keeping him tethered. Dani slipped her hands free of the gloves and reached out to grasp his wrist with fingers that were clammy yet gentle.

“I think you’re wonderful,” Dani breathed, her voice low and her gaze far more steady than her heart beat. She could feel Carson’s leaping like a skittish animal’s beneath her thumb. “And I wish I were half as brave.”

He blinked at her, his brow furrowing slightly, and Dani felt her throat close up around her tongue. She could tell him. It could be their little secret. Something they shared, a flame shielded from the wind by two cupped hands, flickering red-hot against their palms. She could tell him that he wasn’t alone, that she understood, that he didn’t need to hide from her. She could tell him, but the words were strangled at the root, piling up against the roof of her mouth. She could tell him, but he would always be Eddie’s brother before he was hers.

Footsteps behind them. Someone entering the kitchen. Dani snatched her hand away as though scalded, and both she and Carson stepped back from one another. Putting the pink gloves back on to finish the dishes, Dani cast a furtive look over her shoulder.

Karen had paused in the doorway, gripping the neck of the wine bottle in one hand. "I hope I'm not interrupting something," she said with a pointed flicker of her eyes between Dani and Carson.

The idea was so ridiculous — her and Carson — that Dani couldn't help but laugh. That her mother cared to know her so little she could even think they were anything but friends. It was laughable. And so Dani laughed. Beside her, Carson’s expression was pinched, as though it took everything in his power to not join in.

"Is something funny?" Karen asked coolly.

Stifling a giggle behind her teeth, Dani shook her head. "No," she managed. Then she cleared her throat and continued more seriously, "No. Nothing at all. What can I get for you, mom?"

“Well, unless the wine glasses and corkscrew have taken up a new residence, I can get what I need myself.”

Dani handed off one of the last knives to Carson for drying and frowned at where her mother had crossed the kitchen to open one of the drawers. "At least wait for dinner," Dani said, and tensed as though for an incoming blow when her mother sent her a warning glare.

"Not tonight, Danielle," Karen said. "You know how hard Christmas is for me."

Except it wasn't just Christmas. And it wasn't just tonight. It was every night and all the nights that had come before.

Mouth pursed, shoulders tense, Dani stripped off the gloves. Carson must have noticed the hard expression on her face, for he said suddenly, “Hey, Dani, can you go tell everyone that dinner’s ready and that they’ll need to come serve themselves? We’re doing it more buffet style this year, since there are so many of us.”

Exasperated, Dani nodded. Carson nudged her lightly with his elbow and gave her a smile.

“Thanks,” Dani said under her breath.

“Yeah, you too,” he murmured. Then, straightening, he said, “Mrs. Clayton, do you mind pouring me a glass as well?”

Karen reached for two glasses instead of just one, and Dani was able to slip from the kitchen without further incident.

The hallway provided a brief reprieve, caught in between the living room where Christmas music played and the family chattered, the tree glowing with lights fading from one color to another and reflecting off hanging tinsel, and the kitchen where she could still feel the presence of her mother, a shadow at her back. Leaning against the wall beside the kitchen entrance, lingering there for a moment, she went stiff when her mother passed her by to retreat back into the living room. Expelling a slow breath, she startled slightly when the doorbell rang, and felt her shoulders slump with relief.

“I’ll get it,” Dani called out, and made for the door, pulling it open and smiling at the sight of Jamie and Mikey wearing identical grins with curly hair dusted in a cluster of snow. “You’re late.”

“It was Jamie’s fault,” Mikey said, “She forgot to dig out the truck from the snow.”

Jamie rolled her eyes and gently shoved Mikey inside. “You’re one to talk,” she said, shutting the door behind her with her boot, arms laden with presents, “You’re the one who took bloody forever to wrap the rest of those presents.”

“Because you kept complaining it wasn’t neat enough,” Mikey countered with a scowl.

“Are you two going to bicker all night, or are you going to give me your coats?” Dani asked, biting back a laugh when Mikey gave her a sheepish grin and Jamie snorted, setting aside the presents on a nearby side table.

Dani waited patiently as they slipped off their boots to rest against the towel already damp from snow, but as they began to pull off their coats, Jamie wacked Mikey on the arm. “Oi, you forgetting something?”

“Oh,” Mikey said sheepishly, handing Dani his coat and scarf with a small grin, “Merry Christmas, Dani.”

“Merry Christmas, Mikey,” Dani said, chuckling, “Don’t worry. You can tell me again tomorrow morning. You two are coming, right?”

Jamie shrugged, handing over her own baggy coat and old scarf. “‘Course. Wouldn’t miss it,” she said, and jerked her chin towards Mikey with a smirk, “Think this one would have my head if we did.”

But Dani wasn’t particularly listening, her eyes flickering across Jamie’s outfit of black slacks, a slim fitting black button up, and brown suspenders. The top button of her shirt was open, exposing an expanse of pale skin and the long silver link chain that disappeared in the collar of her shirt. Dark-haired and gray-eyed, she looked unfairly attractive.

Swallowing thickly, feeling slightly unmoored, Dani gestured towards the outfit in question. “How very monochromatic of you.”

“Well, I do have a reputation to upkeep,” Jamie said, the corner of her mouth curling into an roguish grin, “The ugly jumpers are for tomorrow, remember?”

“Yeah,” Dani said, chuckling faintly, “I remember.”

Sufficiently breathless over the bright glint in Jamie’s eyes, Dani ducked away around the corner to hang the pair's coats in the closet and settle her heart rate.

“Is that who I think it is?” Judy’s voice rang through the hallway. “There you two are! Come here! Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, Mrs. O’Mara,” Jamie replied.

Dani grinned fondly, shoving aside thick winter coats in the closet to make room for Jamie’s and Mikey’s, overhearing the warm welcomes around the corner, easily picturing Judy crushing Jamie and Mikey into affectionate hugs.

“Oh, finally, ” came Eddie’s voice next in a teasing tone, “Thought I was gonna have to rally the troops to start dinner without you.”

“Would’ve rung your neck if you did,” Jamie grumbled.

“Now, you two,” Judy admonished, “You remember my house rules, don’t you?”

Dani returned just in time to find Jamie shrugging with an impish grin, hands tucked into her pockets, and Eddie rolling his eyes. Judy in question had her arm wrapped around Mikey’s shoulders, and huffed out a soft laugh.

“You two haven’t changed a bit,” she said, and lightly jostled Mikey’s shoulders, “Come on, handsome. Let’s leave these silly goons to sort themselves out and go greet the others, huh?”

“Okay,” Mikey said quietly, wearing a shy pleased smile, cheeks dusted pink under the attention, letting himself be guided towards the living room where Dani could hear Tommy and David’s kids exclaim excitedly over Mikey’s appearance.

“Look at that, Ed. She called him handsome,” Jamie said with a smirk and some measure of pride, “Don’t recall her ever calling you handsome growing up.”

Eddie glowered, but Dani could see it lacked any real heat behind it. “Don’t recall her calling you pretty either.”

”That’s ‘cause I was the one she was calling handsome instead.”

When Eddie’s expression twisted in mild bewilderment, Dani breathed out a soft laugh and approached the pair. At her appearance, they both turned and grinned broadly at her. Dani blinked, feeling her breath catch in her chest lightly under the attention, her eyes darting between them. She quickly smothered the feeling, pulling her mouth into a small smile.

“You’re just gonna let her talk to me like that?” Eddie said, pointing reproachfully at Jamie.

Dani chuckled and folded her arms. “I refuse to get into the middle of one of these again.”

“Never gonna take a side, huh?” Eddie said, a teasing glint in his eyes, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pulling her in close, “I see how it is.”

“That’s ‘cause I’m secretly her favorite,” Jamie said, smirking.

Eddie narrowed his eyes at her. “Okay, I’m going to let that pass once , since you helped us.”

Dani’s brows knitted together. “Helped with what?”

“Jamie helped us get the venue at the gardens,” Eddie said in triumph. “Turns out there was a long waiting list for a fall wedding, but Jamie managed to convince them to get us a slot.”

Dani went still. Feeling her stomach coil uncomfortably and her shoulders going stiff, Dani looked to Jamie and said, “You did?”

“Sure did,” Jamie said, her smirk outright devilish, “Hard to say no to this prat when he came crawling on his hands and knees, begging me to get you lot a spot.”

“That’s - I didn’t do that,” he said to Dani, “I just think she secretly likes me.”

“You and I both know I didn’t do it for you,” Jamie said with a wink in Dani’s direction.

Not knowing what else to say or do, feeling a swell of unease building between her ribs, Dani chuckled weakly and ducked her head.

Eddie laughed softly. “That’s fair,” he said, his hand rubbing her shoulder, “Gonna have to get you a gift basket as thanks.”

Snorting derisively, Jamie said, “I’ll settle for an open bar tab at the reception, thank you very much. But for now, you can start with taking those presents under the tree for me.”

Jamie gestured with an impish grin towards the small stack of presents that still sat on the side table beside them. Rolling his eyes and sighing exasperatedly, Eddie nodded and did as he was told, leaving them in the foyer with one last kiss to Dani’s head and a pointed look towards Jamie. Sending him off with a cheeky salute, Jamie turned back to Dani, her expression softening.

“All right, Poppins?”

“Yeah. Of course,” Dani said, blinking, “Why?”

Jamie shrugged, sinking her hands back in her pockets. “Had that look about you, I suppose,” she said, watching her carefully, “The gardens are what you wanted, yeah? If it isn’t, I’m perfectly happy and willing to go ring his neck.”

“No - it’s fine. It’s perfect,” Dani said, taking a small step closer, “The gardens are perfect.”

Arching an eyebrow, Jamie slowly said, “But?”

Shaking her head lightly, willing away the tight cincture in her chest, Dani said, “No buts. I couldn’t have pictured a more perfect place, to be honest.”

It wasn’t a lie for the most part. In another life, the botanical gardens blooming under the care of Jamie’s hands would have been more than she could have hoped for. In another universe, she would have been happy, she would have been relieved. Autumnal blooms and golden trees and a hand in her own that was smaller but no less calloused. But this was here and now, and Jamie’s discerning eyes were flickering over her quietly, studying Dani as though she could see right through her, and just as Dani felt her pulse quicken, Jamie’s expression softened.

“All right then,” Jamie said, “S’long as you're happy.”

Feeling her breath catch in her chest, her hands twitching to wrap around Jamie’s, one of the twins called out, “Danielle! Are you just gonna hog her yourself all night?”

Chuckling lightly, wrapping her arms loosely around her stomach, Dani felt her cheeks warm. Rolling her eyes, the corner of Jamie’s mouth curled into a smile and nudged her towards the living room. ��Fair bit of warning, the kid has something for you,” Jamie murmured.

“Oh?”

“Mhmm. Wants to give it to you tonight instead of tomorrow,” Jamie said, “Been a wee bit shy about it.”

“You two didn’t have to get me anything.”

“He insisted.” Jamie shrugged. “Kid’s a bit mad about the holidays, you saw what he was like on Sunday.”

Dani would be hard pressed to forget. Arriving at the Taylor household that afternoon with hot chocolate and pastries in hand to a house strewn about in wrapping paper and decorations and a bare Christmas tree tucked into the corner waiting to be accessorized. The day had been spent helping the pair decorate the tree and living room with Christmas music to keep them company at Mikey’s insistence. And afterwards they had settled on the couch to watch White Christmas as the blinking tree lights illuminated the room while Dani desperately tried not to drown in the nostalgia with Jamie pressed beside her. By the end, Jamie and Mikey had ended up chasing each other around the house with wrapping paper rolls after a well aimed thwack to Jamie’s head while Dani watched with exasperated fondness while waiting for the tea kettle’s whistle.

“I saw you, too,” Dani said with a teasing smirk, “I see you still have White Christmas memorized.”

Jamie shrugged, not meeting her eyes. “Dunno what you mean.”

“I also happened to see that you and Mikey seem to be matching tonight,” Dani said, taking a peak in the living room where indeed Mikey was also wearing dark slacks, a button up shirt, and suspenders. The only minor difference happened to be that his shirt was dark green and he was wearing a black bow tie that he was currently anxiously pulling at as he sat on the couch between Judy and Mike. Turning back to Jamie, she grinned. “Cute.”

Huffing out a soft laugh, Jamie shook her head. “Wasn’t my idea. He liked my suspenders and wanted one of his own,” she said, “Put my foot down on the bow tie though. Never would’ve heard the end of it.”

Letting her eyes stray briefly to the brown leather strung over Jamie’s shoulders and pressing into her torso, Dani swallowed thickly and said, “It’s sweet that you indulge him like that. With the outfits and just - all of Sunday.”

“Makes him happy," said Jamie simply.

Before Dani could say anything more, faintly aware that she was looking at Jamie with an expression that was too soft, too fond, there was another yell.

“Hey! Don’t make us come over there!”

Twisting around to frown at the source of the sound, she was greeted with the twins looking at her and holding up their hands in an impatient ‘come on’ gesture.

“Okay, why are you two baffoons yelling and why has no one come to get food yet?” Carson said, appearing from the kitchen with a towel slung over his shoulder and a look of exasperation that resembled Judy’s so much that Dani snickered.

At the sound, he turned towards the pair still lingering in the foyer and sighed, shaking his head. “I see what happened now.”

Jamie laughed and let Carson engulf her in a hug. “Not my fault I’m so irresistible,” Jamie said, shooting Dani another wink over Carson’s shoulder. Feeling her cheeks warm, Dani chuckled weakly as Jamie reached up to ruin Carson’s styled hair, but he was quick on his feet and batted her hand away.

“Think your head is getting way too big to pull out your ass,” he grumbled, playfully shoving her away, and then addressed the living room, “Dinner’s ready!”

They were promptly surrounded by O’Mara’s, finally greeting Jamie with hugs and handshakes. Dani watched with a faint smile, her arms still loosely wrapped around her torso, on the cusp of too enamored. Something nudged her arm and she startled slightly, turning to find Carson grinning at her.

“Some help you were,” he teased.

Her heart in her throat, she fumbled for a response but Carson was already stepping away, helping Judy herd the family into the kitchen to get food. Dani lingered near the back, waiting until the kitchen cleared enough for her turn, letting Eddie sweep a hand over her back as he slipped by in a bid to beat his brothers on getting the best pieces of turkey and ham, and shared a commiserating smile and eye roll with Jamie at the bickering and laughter within the kitchen.

At the dining table, by some miraculous chance, Dani managed to find a seat directly across from Jamie and Mikey, sandwiched between Eddie and Carson. With Christmas music still playing from the stereo and everyone digging into their dinner after a short prayer of thanks led by Judy, she fell back into patterns she’d like to think she’d mastered over the past month and a half. To smile at the right time and comment with the appropriate reply whenever addressed. To laugh under her breath at Carson’s murmured commentary and jokes. To drink her wine and eat her dinner, and not let her eyes linger on Jamie across from her. Jamie with strands of unruly dark hair raked across her bright eyes, Jamie with her infectious laugh, Jamie with those suspenders.

Partway through dinner, Dani came to the realization she was failing miserably when beside her Carson downed a whole glass of wine on one go on a dare by Tommy.

“Where on earth did you learn to drink like that?” Judy asked, eyes wide, slightly aghast but unable to hide her own amusement.

“God,” Carson replied with a broad grin when the table laughed.

And like a gravitational pull, Dani’s eyes immediately darted to Jamie’s to find her already looking back. Feeling her stomach twist not unpleasantly at the amused glint in Jamie’s eyes, they shared slow furtive smirks and a fond roll of their eyes. And just like that, Dani had to twist her hands around the napkin in her lap to ground herself.

In between conversations and bites of food, it was getting harder to not let her eyes stray back, to not linger at Jamie’s comfortable, slouched posture. To not watch Jamie laugh again from some comment by Carson gone unheard by Dani, feeling as though she were underwater, feeling something constrict in her chest. Her teeth clenched, Dani promptly drained the rest of her wine.

Beside her, Eddie leaned close and said, “Do you want another?” When she blinked up at him in confusion, he pointed and added, “A glass of wine.”

“Oh, yes. Please,” she said. Eddie smiled and stood to retrieve another bottle of wine from the kitchen.

Across from her, Jamie was pouring more gravy over her plate, and said with a teasing grin, "Looking to let loose tonight for once?”

Dani laughed breathlessly, feeling her cheeks warm. “Don’t get too excited,” she said, “I don’t plan on having a hangover on Christmas morning.”

“Shame,” Jamie said, still grinning at her, and without warning, before Dani could look away, Jamie brought up a finger between her lips to lick at a stray bit of gravy. Sucking in a quiet breath, Dani swallowed thickly and fixed her eyes down to her plate, shoveling in another forkful of food.

When Eddie returned to the dining room with two new bottles of wine in tow, a few seats down on the other side of the table, her mother perked up and said, “Oh, I’ll have another one of those too, if you don’t mind.”

Dani paused, carefully watching as Eddie smiled weakly and popped open a bottle, filling her mother’s glass until Karen was happy with the amount. When her mother waved him off with a murmured comment Dani couldn’t hear from this distance, Eddie muttered something back with another weak smile as Karen took a long swig from her glass. Knuckles white around her fork, Dani only managed to blink her gaze away from her mother when Eddie returned to her side, filling her glass before setting the bottles on the table and returning to his seat without a word, clearing his throat.

It took her longer than she hoped, to let her shoulders and the grip on her fork relax, to reach for her glass and take a long sip. It was a dark peppery red that settled heavily on her tongue. The kind her mother favored. She rested her glass back atop the table, all the while feeling a stare piercing straight into her. Her eyes darting up, Jamie was watching her with a carefully neutral expression. Slowly, Jamie’s eyebrow arched with a faint look of concern and quiet question. Feeling something unspool in her chest, Dani gave her a slow reassuring smile. Staring at her for a moment longer, Jamie’s eyes darted across her face as though searching for something, and then finally she shrugged before returning to her food.

Dinner seemed to pass quicker after that, leading to conversation over empty plates and letting the kids run around the table, dodging teasing hands with bright laughter. Dani’s hands fidgeted under the table, pulling at her fingers and scratching at a hangnail. In an effort to burn off her restless energy and feel useful, she stood and began gathering the nearest plates to take into the kitchen, but as she reached for Carson’s plate, he batted her hands away. He took the plates from her and set them back down on the table.

“No. Nope. Not happening.”

“What do you -?” Dani started to say but she didn’t get far.

“Tommy. David. Eddie,” Carson pointed at his brothers in turn as he called their names. “You’re up.”

The three of them blinked at him in bemusement.

“I mean it!” Carson snapped. “You’re really gonna make Dani and mom do dishes? Or Ash and Liz? Come on. Don’t be assholes.”

“Why does he get to swear in the house?” Eddie asked his mom, when there was no rebuke forthcoming for language.

“Because I like his message,” Judy replied dryly.

With an arm stretched over the back of Mikey’s chair, Jamie snickered and held up her glass of wine. “Cheers,” she said, and took a long swig.

“Why aren’t you making Jamie help, then?” David grumbled, already standing to gather the dishes.

“With all those elbows being thrown around?” Jamie said, “I’d rather not have a black eye for Christmas, thanks.”

“Never took you as a coward.”

“You wanna go there, mate?” Jamie said with a sharp grin. “I have plenty of arsenal to make you regret it.”

With his mouth thinned and eyes narrowed, David thwacked Tommy on the arm to get him to stand. The pair of them grumbled under their breath to the sound of the table chuckling. Eddie quickly followed suit with a roll of his eyes when Carson gave him a pointed glare. Dani watched with a fond grin and when her eyes met Jamie’s again, they shared a snort of laughter.

“Hey, Mikey,” Carson said, “Wanna come help me choose the next tape to play?”

Fiddling anxiously again at his bowtie now that dinner was over, Mikey’s eyes brightened at the offer and he was nodding, already pushing out his seat before Carson could stand. And just like that, the table began to disperse back around the house with happy chatter and glasses of alcohol in hand.

Dani took the opportunity to dart into the downstairs bathroom and draw in a deep, relieved breath with the door finally shut behind her. Her reflection was waiting for her in the mirror, wan and frazzled. Scowling, Dani reached up to fix her hair, to try and make herself feel more grounded at least superficially. In the time it took her to do her business and return to the chaos, Mike had already brought out his camcorder for the night, and The Beach Boys’ Christmas Album was blaring on the stereo. Casting her eyes around the house, not seeing Mikey or Jamie anywhere, Dani exhaled a slow, fortifying breath, and waded out for small talk.

She managed for the most part, discussing work with Ash and Liz and trying her best to remember the plot of the last book she read. Smiling shyly with a small wave whenever Mike panned his camcorder in her direction. Letting Eddie wrap an arm around her shoulders when the boys were done cleaning in the kitchen. Sharing furtive eye rolls with Carson across the room where he stood by the stereo when the three eldest O'Mara boys smiled proudly, as though cleaning was their idea in the first place. Letting her eyes snap towards Jamie when she finally entered the room, following her closely as she made a beeline towards Carson with two bottles of beer in hand.

Suddenly, Eddie’s arm around her felt like an anvil, sinking her into the carpet floor. She felt too exposed under Mike’s camera, and her mother lingering nearby on the couch, flushed and glassy-eyed and far too familiar.

Swallowing thickly, Dani said to Eddie, “I’ll be right back.”

Mid-conversation with Tommy and his wife Liz, Eddie nodded absently and let her slip away quietly. Delving back into the kitchen, she drained her wine and rested the empty glass on the counter. For a long moment, she stared into the glass, seeing her warped reflection, and with a tight jaw, she pulled open the fridge to retrieve a bottle to refill her glass.

Wandering back out into the hallway, she found herself leaning against the wall once more, mustering up the courage to delve back into the living room. Taking a slow sip of her wine, feeling her cheeks warm from the alcohol, she didn’t notice Mikey wandering up to her from down the hallway until he was leaning beside her, scowling down at his bow tie as he pulled and fiddled with it.

She tilted her head to the side and asked gently, “Having trouble?”

His eyes briefly met hers and he shrugged, ducking his head again. “It keeps getting worse,” he grumbled.

Dani chuckled and nudged him in the arm. “Maybe because you keep messing with it.”

With a huff he rolled his eyes and tugged at the fabric again. “Mr. O’Mara showed us how to do it, but it’s not working.”

When he tugged on it again roughly and sagged heavily against the wall, Dani bit back a laugh. “Okay, come on,” she said, placing a hand on his shoulder and guiding him back down the hall, “We’re going to fix this.”

His shoulders slumped, Mikey didn’t complain as she led him towards the bathroom, flickering the lights on and grinning fondly at the lines of frustration and disappointment in his face through his reflection, an uncanny mirror image to Jamie.

“Now, I’m more practised in regular ties and doing it backwards, but we’re gonna give it a shot, okay?”

At his quiet nod, Dani squeezed his shoulders and gestured for him to undo his bow tie as she rested her glass on the counter. With his back to her, she reached over his shoulder to adjust the length of the fabric, and asked, “Is this okay?”

He nodded again. She smiled and began to slowly show him the steps with his back to her. Just as he was in class when challenged beyond his level, Mikey was eager to learn, watching the steps through their reflection. It was a little uneven when she was done, but with some adjusting and pulling, she was pleased with it. Leaning closer to get a better look, Mikey grinned broadly at their reflections.

“Thanks, Dani,” he said.

“You’re welcome,” she said, “Now it’s your turn.”

With a heavy sigh, Mikey acquiesced and undid his bow tie. She took it slow, murmuring encouragements in between her instructions as Mikey’s brow furrowed in concentration while following her directions. Just as they were mid-way through, Dani’s voice faltered when through the mirror, a familiar figure appeared and leaned against the open door frame.

“Was wondering where you two went,” Jamie said.

“Mikey was having trouble with his bow tie,” Dani explained.

“I see that.” Jamie smirked at Mikey. “My services weren’t good enough for you, huh?”

Through his faint blush, Mikey scowled. “Not my fault your memory sucks.”

Jamie snorted. “Yet, you’re the one who thought I was cool enough to want to copy and match.”

If anything, Mikey’s cheeks went redder and he crossed his arms, his shoulders bunching. Dani gave Jamie a reproachful look through the mirror, and in response Jamie rolled her eyes with a good natured grin.

“All right, all right,” Jamie said, flapping her hand towards them. “Carry on. I’m not even here.”

Shaking her head, Dani coaxed Mikey out from his hunched form to return to his bowtie, and in no time he was tugging it in place, squared up and neat.

“There you go,” Dani said, patting his shoulder with a proud smile, “Now you look especially handsome.”

Ducking his head, Mikey murmured, “Thanks, Dani.” And then after a long moment, briefly darting his eyes between Dani and Jamie through the mirror, he said, “Can I go now?”

Huffing out a soft breath, Dani nodded. “Yes. Go on, I’m sure Mrs. O’Mara has snacks hidden for you somewhere.”

His eyes brightening, Mikey grinned and made to exit the bathroom, but was pulled to a stop by Jamie slinging an arm around his neck and pulling him close with a smile. “Aw, mate. She called you handsome.”

“Ugh, get off me,” Mikey grumbled, but made no real effort to pull out of her grasp.

Laughing, Jamie lightly ruffled his hair, and said, “How about we do what we had planned first, and then you can go?”

Mikey’s look was dubious. “Now? Here?”

Jamie shrugged. “Why not? No one’s here to see. That was the point, remember?”

Hesitating briefly, his brow knitting where he remained pressed against Jamie’s side, he finally nodded. Dani watched with a patient, soft smile as Jamie let him go and pulled something unseen out of her pocket, hidden behind Mikey’s thin frame. Covertly passing the object in hand to Mikey, Jamie shot Dani a quick wink over his head with a crooked grin.

Mikey’s cheeks were pink as he turned and held out a small navy box towards Dani, small enough to fit in the palm of his hand. “Merry Christmas, Dani,” he murmured.

“Thank you, honey,” Dani said, charmed, taking the box. When she opened it, she smiled broadly to find that inside, nestled in foam padding was a Star Trek insignia silver pendant attached to a simple chain necklace. “Oh, it’s perfect,” she breathed.

“I have one too,” Mikey said, visibly pleased over her reaction, “Mine’s a pin, but I left it at home.”

“You should’ve worn it,” Dani said, “Then we’d be matching.”

Mikey’s smile brightened, and he eagerly said, “I’ll wear it tomorrow.”

“You better,” Dani said, pulling the necklace from it’s box, “We’re going to have to one-up Jamie somehow.”

Laughing, Mikey nodded and turned to Jamie, “Now can I go?”

It took Jamie a moment to answer, leaning against the doorframe with her hands in her pockets, expression soft as she watched them. She grinned and nodded, jerking her head towards the hallway. “Yeah, all right. Out of my sight.”

When Mikey disappeared down the hallway after one last pleased grin, Dani held up the necklace pinched between her fingers and said, “Help me?”

Without a word Jamie pushed herself upright and stepped closer. Heart a sudden claxon in her chest, Dani handed her the necklace and turned on the spot, pulling her hair to the side. Through the mirror, she watched as Jamie reached around and placed the chain around her neck, sucking in a quiet breath at the feeling of Jamie’s warm fingers grazing against her skin as she clasped the lock with an expression that was hard to read. An involuntary shiver traveled down Dani’s spine, her jaw aching from how hard she clenched her teeth.

“There you are,” Jamie murmured, and stepped away, digging her hands back in her pockets.

“Thank you,” Dani murmured, adjusting her hair back over her shoulders and setting the pendant straight so that it hung right over the dip of her clavicle.

“No problem,” Jamie said, nodding towards her with her chin, “Won’t believe how popular their merch is. It’s bloody everywhere. Apparently some Captain Clark bloke is from Iowa.”

“Captain Kirk,” Dani corrected and laughed when Jamie shrugged dismissively.

Then Jamie grinned and said, “Fancy keeping me company outside for a smoke? Came to find you to ask.”

“Yeah,” Dani said, nodding, “I’d love to.”

It was not until Jamie sneaked over their coats to the backdoor did Dani realize what she had agreed to. Carson was nowhere in sight to accompany them like she had expected, to act as a buffer to the nerves straining beneath Dani’s skin. But his boots were already set on a nearby mat, and Jamie was shoving them over towards her after handing Dani her coat.

“His boots are too big, I can’t - “

“Don’t think I didn’t see those heels of yours by the front door,” Jamie said, shrugging into her coat with an exasperated grin, “Honestly. You know how to color match, but you still haven’t learned your lesson on weather appropriate clothing?” A slow grin grew on Dani’s face. Seeing this, Jamie’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

“Raising a preteen really rubbed off on you, huh?”

Jamie stared at her for a moment, and then scowled, her cheeks pink. Dani snickered. “Just put the bloody boots on,” Jamie grumbled, and pulled open the back door, letting in a waft of freezing air.

Huffing at the cold air against her legs, she gave Jamie a mild glare who smirked in response. Without any more preamble, Dani shoved her feet in Carson’s oversized boots and slipped on her jacket and scarf before following Jamie outside on the porch. The temperature seemed to have dropped over the course of the night, the air still but bitingly cold. Dani shivered, wrapping her coat closer around herself as she followed Jamie to the railing, but instead of lingering in the overwashed porch light, Jamie grasped her hand and carefully guided her down the icy porch steps.

“Where are we going?” Dani asked, the boots clunky and loose on her feet, but blissfully warm against the solid foot of snow as they trudged through the untouched expanse of white.

“Over here,” Jamie said, her breath a white mist, leading her towards the old shed near the back of the yard with furtive glances behind them to the backdoor, “Promised the kid I’d quit smoking for the New Year. He’s been on my ass about it. I’m going to have to milk the next few days for all they're worth.”

Dani snorted. “Quitting cold turkey, are you?”

“Is there any other way?”

“Gradually? Like a normal person?”

Pulling them around the corner of the shed, hidden away from view of the house where they could still hear the stereo blasting Christmas tunes at an unreasonable volume level through a crack of a window, Jamie leaned against the shed and grinned.

“You know me,” Jamie said, releasing Dani’s hand to pull out a rumpled pack of cigarettes from her pocket, “I’m an all or nothing kinda woman.”

Dani snorted, wrapping her arms around herself to ward off the cold. “You’re in a good mood tonight.”

“Good food and free booze, what’s not to love,” Jamie said with a shrug.

“You mean besides hiding behind a shed in case Mikey sees you smoking?”

Rolling her eyes, Jamie didn’t deign to respond. She plucked out a cigarette and placed it between her lips, flicking a flame to life with a plastic lighter. Dani watched, entranced at the glow of orange illuminating her skin in the dark shadows encompassing them. Jamie’s eyes glinting in the light of flame and embers, cheeks sinking inward until she lifted the cigarette away to blow a thin stream of smoke above them with pursed lips. Dani’s heart was still pounding from the bathroom, crashing steadily against her ribs, the burn of Jamie’s hands lingering against the skin of her neck like an ink blot. She darted her eyes away in an effort to not look at Jamie’s lips when she took another drag.

“You know,” Dani started slowly, “I still have your old lighter.” At Jamie’s questioning frown, she added, “The Zippo.”

Jamie blinked at her for a moment, and huffed out a breath of laughter. “Figured you would’ve pawned that.” Jamie said with a shrug, taking another drag, the embers burning bright.

Dani frowned. “Why would I do that?”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

“Because I missed you.”

Jamie stared at her, the air between them abruptly thick. Her stomach whorling uncomfortably, Dani cleared her throat and ducked her head, but then Jamie laughed softly.

“Missed you too, Poppins,” Jamie murmured. When Dani dared to look up again, Jamie's expression was fond as she smiled at her. “Don’t think I told you that before, when you first said so.”

Easily, Dani could recall that day in the alley beside the pharmacy, when things had still felt so fragile between them like a house of cards stacked in her palms. And then the Sunday after that, and the Sunday after that. Smiling faintly, Dani murmured, “You didn’t have to.”

“Well, now you know at least,” Jamie said, taking another pull at the cigarette, and nodded towards Dani with her chin. “Don’t think I mentioned before either,” she continued through a plume of smoke she directed away from Dani, motioning her hands towards her, “Your outfit. Looks nice tonight.”

Dani’s cheeks warmed and she bit back a broad smile. “Thank you,” she said, and stumbled for a reply. “You - um. You look nice too.”

“Thanks.” Jamie slouched against the shed, her smile veering into a smirk as though she already knew this for a fact. “It’s the suspenders, yeah?”

“Um - “ Dani fumbled. “I suppose.”

“Gonna have to wear it more often, then.”

Dani nodded in lieu of a verbal reply, not trusting whatever she might say, praying that the shed shrouded them in enough darkness from porch light to not display the heat spreading across her cheeks.

At that moment, the music from the house blared louder than before, Wham!’s Last Christmas booming through the open window. They both listened with amusement as complaints immediately followed.

“Carson, turn it down!” bellowed Eddie just as David complained, “I can’t hear myself think!”

“With what brain?” Carson rebuked.

“Do you want us to break mom’s rule, because we will!”

“Suck it up!”

Dani met Jamie’s eyes and they both snickered with laughter. The volume in the end did not turn down, forgotten in the midst of continued bickering. Grinning broadly, Jamie lifted the cigarette to her mouth and Dani’s eyes drifted down to watch. When she expelled the smoke to the side, Dani held out her hand.

Huffing lightly with a small shake of her head, Jamie gamely handed Dani the cigarette. “Y’know,” Jamie said as Dani eyed the red stained filter for a moment and took a slow, careful drag, “Could always just have one of your own.”

Coughing lightly, Dani blew out a plume of smoke. “Then that would make me a smoker.”

Jamie rolled her eyes, but when Dani made to hand it back, she shook her head. “Keep it,” she said, “Might be the last you ever have once I quit.”

“Feeling confident, huh?”

“When there’s a promise on the line, sure.”

Smiling warmly, Dani flicked off the ash into the snow, running a thumb over the filter. A thrill ran through her, a shiver coursing down her spine so that she huddled further into herself, feeling the cold bite at her ears and nose and exposed legs.

Chuckling lightly, Jamie said, “Christ, look at the state of you.” She pushed off the shed and held out a hand. “C’mere.”

Dani froze. “What?”

“Put that out and come here,” Jamie said, “You’re freezing.”

“I’m fine.”

Jamie gave her a long dubious look. Clenching her jaw, Dani shifted her weight anxiously on her feet. “Are you sure?”

“Dani.”

“Okay,” Dani said, taking another long, fortifying pull of the cigarette before flicking it in the snow, expelling the smoke through her nose.

Her stomach coiling with nerves, Dani took Jamie’s proffered hand and let herself be pulled closer until they were pressed together in a hug. “That’s better,” Jamie murmured, running her hand up and down Dani’s back, “Warm yourself up.”

Slowly wrapping her arms around Jamie’s waist as though any sudden movement might break the spell, Dani nodded, her heart feeling as though it threatened to burst through her sternum. It was no different than any of their hugs, no different than the long lingering embraces at Jamie’s front door. But the wine had her skin straining and her head buzzing, and worse, she was surrounded by the scent of sandalwood and smoke. Her breath a plume of white in a soft sigh, Dani’s eyes slowly slipped shut and she burrowed further in Jamie’s warmth, pressing her nose into her worn scarf and inadvertently grazed the skin of Jamie’s neck.

Jamie’s arms stilled, her breath catching lightly. “Cold,” she murmured.

A thrill going down her spine at the heat of Jamie’s skin against her nose, Dani said, “Sorry.”

Jamie didn’t reply, unmoving as she held Dani. Frowning lightly, Dani opened her mouth to say something, to say anything, when a familiar jazzy tune drifted from the house.

Huffing a soft laugh, Jamie murmured, “Figures.”

And before Dani could react, Jamie was rearranging their arms. Dani’s breath caught quietly as Jamie rested one of Dani’s hands on her shoulder and took the other to clasp their palms, and then slowly, as though waiting for Dani to stop her, to push her away, she slipped her hand around Dani’s waist. And with Ella Fitzergerald’s rendition of White Christmas accompanying them, Jamie began to sway with her on the spot.

“There we go,” Jamie murmured, their temples pressed together, her breath a hot wisp against Dani’s ear and neck.

Swallowing thickly, her heart threatening to burst through her chest, there was a feeling washing over Dani like a haze, as though the world had narrowed down to just them, in this dark corner in the snow with only the distant porch light and the moon to illuminate them. She pressed her eyes closed and drew in a soft breath, the air bitingly cold as she inhaled, feeling dizzy and enchanted all at once.

“This is nice,” Dani murmured, broaching the long quiet as they swayed.

Jamie hummed softly. “Yeah,” she said. “Was thinking. You could come over again before the New Years. Could watch White Christmas again and pretend we’ve never seen it before. Give Mikey a taste of his own medicine.”

Dani chuckled, and bit her lip at the near imperceptible feeling of Jamie pulling her closer by the waist. “I’d love to,” Dani said.

And before she knew what she was doing, Dani was pressing closer. Wrapping her hand further around Jamie’s shoulders, fingers tangling in strands of curly hair, grazing the back of Jamie’s neck. Ducking her head to bury into the crook of Jamie’s shoulder, nose and mouth pressed against the skin of her throat, making a small sound of contentment.

Jamie sucked in a sharp breath, their swaying faltering for half a heartbeat, and she audibly swallowed hard. Dani’s eyes slowly drifted open, lost in the darkness of the crook of Jamie's neck, straining her ears, feeling Jamie’s hand on her waist dig into the fabric of her coat. They were swaying again, but with Jamie’s pulse a sudden rapid flutter beneath Dani’s nose and lips, she felt as though she was veering over a vast precipice, her stomach dropping at the sensation. Trying to remember how to breathe, Dani slowly lifted her head, smoothing her hand over Jamie’s rigid shoulders and back, gripping Jamie’s hand tight.

Dani opened her mouth to speak, to broach the lingering silence, but the air was still around them, particles of snow drifting so slowly they might as well be fixed motionless where they hovered, and with one word spoken, one wrong movement, the spell between them would be broken. The world moving again, expanding beyond the single point where they clung to each other, pushing them apart.

Exhaling a soft trembling breath, Dani gradually pulled further back until she could finally see Jamie’s face. Gray eyes dark and stormy, expression carefully blank, Jamie met her gaze and the corner of her mouth lifted into a faint, barely there curve. Dani lingered on it, on the scar there painted red and outlined in faint light. It would be so easy to push back in, and press her lips there. To taste Jamie’s mouth of wine and cigarettes, and feel that scar beneath her own mouth and tongue. Dani bit her own lip and watched Jamie’s jaw go taut, the muscle leaping beneath her skin.

Her eyes darted up and met Jamie’s, darker than before, unblinking as they were piercing, and then Dani sucked in a quiet breath when gray eyes slowly traced down over Dani to where they were pressed together before traveling back up, lingering on Dani’s mouth for a long moment before catching Dani’s gaze again.

Dani swallowed hard, her breath caught in her throat, not daring to believe, not daring to hope. A flash of something unreadable crossed over Jamie’s expression like a red flare in the dark, the scratch of a matchstick, a flicker in the strained lines of her face. And in a moment it was gone, in its wake something unreachable and blank.

She couldn’t have been imagining it. The same heat that flared between her ribs and thighs reflected back at her through Jamie’s eyes. The same adoration she’d come to know like the back of her hand since they were children.

The song was ending, transitioning easily to some other tune Dani couldn’t be bothered to name, when it was abruptly cut off to the immediate sound of muffled complaints and bickering. The silence that followed between them was suddenly and unbearably thick.

“Jamie - “

“We should head inside,” Jamie murmured, “They’ll be wondering where we are.”

They still stood so close that Dani could see the shadow of her eyelashes and the flecks in her eyes. The music returned to a chorus of cheers, the volume at a more reasonable level. Slowly, Dani braved another smile and eased closer, knocking their foreheads together. “One more song?”

Stiffening for a moment, Jamie huffed and said. “You’ll be the death of yourself. Your hand is freezing.”

“I can handle it,” Dani said, keeping the ‘with you,’ locked away behind her teeth.

Jamie seemed to have heard it anyway, for she sighed slowly and muttered, “What am I gonna do with you?”

“Dance with me?”

Choking out a thin laugh, Jamie pulled away. “Not when you’re bloody shaking like a leaf,” she said, “C’mon. Back inside with you.”

Disappointment gripping at her chest, Dani felt her face fall as Jamie took a full step back that seemed to feel like a vast canyon for how close they were pressed together before. Dani missed the warmth of her arms immediately, but then Jamie was arching an eyebrow at her.

“Unless you want Judy to come bursting out here wondering what we’re doing,” she said, a teasing curve tucked into the corner of her grin. “Or worse: Ed.”

Stones sunk in the pit of Dani’s stomach, and suddenly reality pressed on her eardrums like a rush of wind. “Right,” Dani choked out, smiling weakly.

She followed Jamie back inside, breathing in relief in the warmth of the house, shedding her jacket and Carson’s boots. Beside her, Jamie exhaled softly and handed over her jacket when Dani held her hand out, a sharp line to her jaw, not meeting Dani’s eyes.

“Just gonna head to the loo,” she muttered. She glanced towards Dani, who nodded, mildly bewildered at the sudden change in disposition. Jamie jerked her head in a short nod and spun on her heel out the kitchen.

A furrow to her brow, Dani followed a few paces behind through the hallway, the front door closet in the same direction, but when she turned the corner, she bumped directly into a broad frame.

“Oh -!”

She almost teetered off balance, but hands immediately grasped her waist to steady her and she looked up to find Eddie grinning broadly at her, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Suddenly behind her there was a cacophonous noise of cheering and laughter. Twisting around, her eyes went wide in surprise to find Mike’s camcorder pointed in their direction and half of the family watching them with enthusiasm from the living room.

“I cannot believe that worked,” said Tommy, laughing as he spoke.

“Huh?” Dani said dumbly.

“Look up, honey,” Judy said, holding up a point-and-shoot camera at the ready, her eyes bright with fond amusement. Beside her, Carson chuckled, but couldn’t hide his wince of sympathy.

Dread pooling in her stomach, Dani slowly looked up as though awaiting some hungry creature to jump out from the shadows and bite her, but instead she found a mistletoe dangling from the light fixture above her.

“Oh,” Dani said, a small anxious laugh bursting out of her.

And before she could stop herself, she slowly turned and immediately met Jamie’s eyes, watching her with an eerily neutral expression, frozen as though mid step. Rooted to the floor, her heart crashing against her ribs, Dani watched with bated breath as Jamie blinked, and then without a word, disappeared around the corner.

Her throat feeling thick, her stomach churning, Dani turned back to meet Eddie’s grin with a weak one of her own. His hands affectionately squeezed her waist lightly, and all it once it felt utterly wrong. But there was goading and teasing coming from the living room, muffled as though Dani’s ears needed to be popped. With another awkward chuckle, feeling something crushing her chest, her throat thick, she stood on her toes and kissed Eddie’s bashful smile. She ignored the good-natured wolf whistles and cheering and the audible click and flash of a camera.

“I want a copy of that,” Dani heard her mother say in a happy slur when she pulled back, ducking her head away to hide the guilt and indignation gnawing at her, hoping it’d come across as demure. Eddie laughed and hugged her.

It felt increasingly harder to breathe, afterwards. Clutching at a fresh glass of wine after downing her last in one go after finally escaping the clamor to return hers and Jamie’s jackets in the closet. Struggling to push down the thought of how much she had wanted to bury her nose back into Jamie’s jacket, just to breathe her in one last time. Struggling to not grit her teeth at the Christmas music that was beginning to grate on her ears. Struggling to not let her eyes wander when Jamie finally returned to the festivities, her shirt sleeves folded up neatly, exposing the lean lines of her forearms.

She had almost expected the world to settle back on its axis, since returning from outside. With the way Jamie didn’t approach her again throughout the rest of the night, with every corner Dani turned, Jamie would be five steps ahead as though she was just as unwilling as Dani to broach whatever had happened outside. Even still, Dani felt eyes on her. And as though sucked in by a gravity well, Dani kept glancing back, meeting gray eyes that seemed warm and dark in equal measure. And every time their eyes would meet, Jamie would hold her stare until Dani felt rooted to the spot, her feet melding to the floor like just another fixture.

Dani was leaning against the wall, nursing her broad-bowled glass while in the middle of a group conversation with a small cluster of the family when it happened again. The dark form of Jamie slipping by to hover near Carson by the stereo, leaning against a bookcase with a beer in hand and catching her eyes once again. And instead of another faint grin or an arch of an eyebrow, Jamie’s eyes slowly scanned her up and down, lingering on the hem of her skirt before meeting her gaze again and turning away.

Swallowing hard, Dani brought the lip of her glass to her mouth and drifted her eyes down again to those suspenders, lingering there for a long moment before settling back on Jamie’s forearms. She wondered faintly, what Jamie’s forearm would look like if her hand were to slip beneath Dani’s skirt and between her thighs, how the leather of her suspenders would feel in her hands if Dani were to grip them for leverage. Feeling an ache between her legs in response and her breath catching at just the thought alone, Dani clenched her teeth and stood upright to make her excuses to the bathroom when there was the sound of glass shattering from the kitchen.

Dani started slightly, blinking in surprise. On the other side of the room, Carson groaned. “All right, which one of you idiots was it,” he said, but when he turned around to find all three of his older brothers in the living room, he paused. “Oh.”

“Gosh, I’m so sorry, Judy,” came Karen’s voice.

“It’s all right, honey,” said Judy gently, “Watch your feet, there’s glass everywhere.”

The air in the living room abruptly went thick and quiet and suffocating. Feeling her stomach drop, Dani exhaled quietly and started towards the kitchen. She slowed when she was greeted with a pool of wine on the linoleum floor, red as blood, fresh-spilt, shattered pieces of glass everywhere. Jaw taut, Dani looked up to find her mother hunched over in one of the kitchen table chairs, rubbing at her forehead. Just as Dani felt another presence at her side, Judy looked up from where she was gathering the larger pieces of glass and offered Dani a reassuring grin.

“Just an accident, honey. Not our first spill of the night,” Judy said, and then added, “Boys, could you get the mop and broom, please?”

There was movement behind her, but Dani couldn’t be bothered to check, feeling a strain pressing at her shoulders. She slowly edged her way further into the kitchen, carefully skirting around the mess and Judy’s warnings.

“Danielle, be careful.”

She nodded faintly, easing closer to her mom, her throat feeling thick. There was movement again behind her, and she glanced over her shoulder to find Mike and Carson helping Judy with cleaning supplies in hand. Lingering by the entranceway, Dani found both Eddie and Jamie. Eddie with his hands tucked inside his pockets, an apprehensive hunch to his shoulders as he took in the scene. And Jamie with a concerned frown. Swallowing down the swell of acidic shame building in her throat, Dani turned away and moved closer to Karen.

Her eyes were closed, hidden beneath her hand, glasses abandoned on the table where she rested heavily on her elbow. “Mom?” Dani murmured, carefully reaching out a hand to rest on her shoulder.

“I’m fine,” Karen said sharply, “Just an accident.” She then looked up, her eyes glassy, her jaw clenched. “Judy, it’s fine. Let me help. I can fix it."

She made to stand, but Judy firmly shook her head. “You stay right there,” she said, emptying a dustpan full of glass in the garbage, and gestured where Carson and Mike were near finishing cleaning up, “See? We’re almost done. No harm, no foul.”

Karen exhaled and shook her head with a grimace. “I’m sorry. I - “

“Now, none of that,” Judy said sternly, “It’s Christmas. Accidents happen.”

Her expression darkening into a scowl, Karen shook her head again and mumbled something under her breath. Jaw aching from how hard she was clenching her teeth, Dani gently squeezed her shoulder. “Let me walk you home.”

“I’m fine,” Karen repeated.

Dani stared at her for a long moment, scanning over the exhausted and weary lines of her mothers face. The phases of her mother’s inebriation were as constant as the moon; Dani knew them all by heart. “You need some sleep,” Dani murmured, “Let me take you home.”

Karen scoffed, and said darkly, “Why? So you can lord it over me?” She shrugged off Dani’s hand. “I can take care of myself. I don’t need you, Danielle.”

“Karen,” Judy said behind her.

The Christmas music was a ringing in Dani’s ears, the sound feeling utterly like one big joke as her head swam from her own indulgence of wine. Dani pushed it down — the indignation and resentment — pushed it all away and leaned closer to murmur, “I just want you to feel better. That’s all.” Her mother remained quiet, not meeting her eyes. A thick lump appeared in Dani’s throat. “Please let me take care of you?”

There was a long moment of quiet as her mother rubbed at her forehead, and finally sighed, her shoulders slumping. “Fine,” she breathed, exhausted.

Dani nodded and made to help her mother stand, grasping her arm. Eddie finally stepped closer, eyes darting between them. “She can have my old room,” he started carefully, almost hesitant, “If she’d like.”

Shaking her head, Dani murmured, “It’s fine.”

“You sure?” Eddie said softly.

“Yes, can you just - “ She stopped short, irritation bleeding in her tone. She drew in a deep breath, and repeated more calmly, “It’s fine. I’ve got her.”

Eddie hesitated, opening his mouth as though he wanted to say something more, but to Dani’s relief, he just nodded and stepped aside.

Her mother clung to her arm in a painful grip as Dani led them towards the foyer. She tried not to wince, tried to ignore the various gazes of the O’Mara clan in the shape of concern and morbid curiosity, tried to duck her head enough to hide the red in her cheeks as her mother staggered beside her. But when she reached the foyer, she looked up and blinked in surprise to find Jamie there in her coat and boots with two jackets slung over her arms, that old scarf wrapped around her neck.

“What are you - ?”

Jamie shrugged. “Figured you’d need the help,” she said simply.

“Are you sure?” Eddie said from beside her. Dani tensed at the sound of his voice. “I’d be happy to come along.”

Quietly, Jamie looked at Dani with a questioning arched eyebrow and patiently waited. Swallowing hard past the thickness in her throat, Dani murmured, “I've got it, Eddie.”

With a thin, conceding smile, Eddie nodded. Though there was a thin veneer of relief in his expression, Eddie still gamely assisted with letting Karen grip his arm for balance while she slipped on her shoes after muttering darkly, “Get up from the floor, Danielle,” when Dani had crouched to assist her.

Head ducked, running a trembling hand through her hair, Dani slipped on her own heels, only vaguely paying attention to Eddie awkwardly holding her mother’s jacket out. “Uh - “ he started “ - is it okay, Mrs. Clayton, if I, uh -?”

Remarkably, Karen breathed out a quiet laugh that grated on Dani’s ears. “Always were a polite boy,” was all she said.

When Dani looked up again, she found Jamie watching her with a shadow of worry in her expression. Without a word, Jamie held up Dani’s jacket. Forcing out a thin smile, Dani turned and let Jamie help her slip into it, pulling it close around her.

“All good?” Jamie murmured quietly behind her.

Dani nodded, exhaling slowly. Just as she was about to turn around, Carson approached them.

“Hey,” he said quietly, “Anything I can do to help?”

Pulling her lips between her teeth in careful consideration, Dani’s eyes darted over his shoulder towards the living room that was still marginally quieter than it had been all night. Following her gaze, Carson glanced in that direction and then gave her an understanding smile.

“I got it,” he said, pulling her in his arms for a firm hug, “I’ll take care of it.”

Dani nodded, holding him tight and feeling him reciprocate until she could almost feel her bones creak and her throat grow thick. When she slowly pulled away, she felt him give her a warm kiss to her forehead. “Love you,” he murmured.

“Love you too,” Dani said faintly, unable to meet his eyes.

Desperate to leave, desperate to feel the cold against her cheeks again to fight off the humiliation and the burn in her eyes, luck was not in her favor, for Judy was the next to approach her with a look of quiet affection Dani wasn’t sure she deserved.

Dani said, “I’m-I’m sorry, Judy, I’m - “

Judy cupped her cheeks and gave her a look that brooked no room for argument. “You head on home, and get the both of you to bed, all right?” she said, “I want you both bright eyed and ready for another day.” At a loss for words, Dani nodded and let Judy pull her into a hug. “Goodnight, sweet heart.”

“Goodnight,” Dani murmured, her shoulders stiff under Judy’s arms.

Dani was unable to meet her eyes when she was finally let go, turning on the spot where the others were waiting for her. “Let’s go,” Dani mumbled to Jamie, who jerked her head in a single nod, and swung open the door. Offering Eddie a frail smile when he handed her Karen’s glasses, she slipped it in her pocket and let him kiss her head before she wrapped an arm around her mother’s shoulders to guide her outside. “Come on, mom. Let’s go.”

The cold against Dani’s skin was welcomed, biting at her ears and nose in a distracting way. Jamie was already waiting by the porch steps, a hand held out in case Dani or Karen lost their balance. She remained close by as they carefully stepped down the walkway that was now covered in a thin layer of snow, but when they reached the sidewalk, Jamie trudged ahead, kicking at the snowbank separating them from the street to make a path.

Her mother shivered and grumbled under her breath as they carefully stepped through. Dani absently rubbed at her mother’s shoulder to ward away the cold, keeping a close grip on her. When they finally made it across the street up the walkway towards her childhood house, Dani dug her free hand in her jacket pocket and pulled out a set of keys.

“Get the door?” Dani said to Jamie.

With a nod, Jamie took the keys but remained close until they reached the porch with a faint furrow to her brow. It was by some miracle that they hadn’t slipped once during the entire journey.

As Jamie unlocked the front door, keys jingling, the lock clicking open, Karen huffed. “Is she coming inside?”

“Yes,” Dani said firmly, not bothering to check for Jamie’s reaction as she guided her mother through the doorway.

With the door shut behind them, Dani sighed quietly in the darkness of the house and listened as Jamie shoved her boots off, already stumbling around to flick on the lights. The house was cold and quiet and void of any decorations to speak of. Lying in wait for the return of its ghosts. Not in the least bit surprised, Dani shed her coat and shoes, and kept a close hand on her mother as she did the same, swaying off balance as she did so.

“Need help with the stairs?” Jamie asked softly, broaching the quiet.

Karen scoffed wordlessly. Not meeting Jamie’s eyes, Dani shook her head. “No."

Jamie didn’t reply, and Dani didn’t look to see her expression. Instead she took her mom’s waist and led her towards the stairs. It was tricky, as it always was. But Dani was an old hand by now, climbing the stairs, bearing most of her mother’s weight, her labored breath in Dani’s ears. But for the first time, Jamie was a constant presence at her back, and when they stumbled halfway up, Dani felt the press of a warm hand at her lower back, burning through her blouse and keeping her balanced upright. Just the feeling alone cast another shadow of shame over her, burning her cheeks.

Her mother’s bedroom, as it always did, smelled of cigarettes and cheap floral perfume as though that would mask the smell. Karen let out a long sigh when they shuffled inside and pushed out of Dani’s grasp as soon as they neared the bed to sit heavily on the edge of it. The light from the bedside lamps, even as warm as they were, cast her mother’s face in an eerie glow. Her head tilted slightly, Dani could almost see wrinkles there that she had never seen before.

Behind her, Jamie softly cleared her throat. Startlingly slightly, Dani turned and blinked at her, finding her standing at the threshold of her mother’s room with her hands in the pockets of her bulky jacket, looking vaguely uncomfortable.

“You need anything?” Jamie said with a faint frown towards Karen before meeting Dani’s eyes.

It took Dani a moment to answer, but she finally cleared her throat and nodded. “Just um - ” she fumbled “ - uh.”

Smiling gently, a reassuring look that briefly unspooled something in Dani’s chest. “Don’t worry,” Jamie murmured, “Be right back.”

Disappearing down the hall, audibly retreating downstairs, Dani was left to the realization that she was now alone with her mother. The stone that had sunk to the pit of her stomach seemed to painfully twist and deform.

Pushing it down and away, Dani set to work. Retrieving a damp washcloth for her mother to wipe the night’s grime from face. Setting up the bed behind her. Removing jewelry as though on autopilot. Gold rings. A fake pearl necklace. Small stud earrings.

She was setting them away at her mother’s vanity when at that moment, Dani heard footsteps in the hall. Clearing her throat, she stood upright and started towards the door where Jamie met her, a tall glass of water and a small bottle of painkillers in her hands. Instead of handing it over to Dani, she seemed to freeze on the spot, her eyes darting over Dani’s face with a discerning frown. Desperately, Dani gave her a reassuring smile, feeling her cheeks strain.

When Jamie merely arched an eyebrow, Dani murmured, “I’ve got it.”

She looked at her for another moment longer, and then finally exhaled, handing over the supplies. “I’ll wait outside,” Jamie said softly, and when Dani nodded, she grasped Dani’s free hand before she could step away.

Jamie’s hand was warm, as they always were. Her eyes were soft and understanding, her mouth curving into a faint smile. Dani slowly exhaled, allowing the comfort for only a moment, before squeezing Jamie’s hand and letting go. Throat bobbing, sending Karen one last cursory glance, Jamie nodded and retreated downstairs.

“That man of yours,” Karen said behind her, and Dani's spine immediately went taut, “you have a good one, you know?”

A strain was starting to travel up the back of Dani’s neck, a throbbing twinge verging on a headache. She gritted her teeth and turned to attend to her mother who had remained hunched over on the bed. Dani handed her the water in a silent order to drink, setting the painkillers aside to return to work. And all the while, Karen mumbled in between sips.

“You don’t find those very often anymore. Your grandfather wasn’t one,” Karen said, chuckling darkly, a lost look in her eyes, “But your father. He was a good man. Better than I could have ever hoped for. He insisted - he insisted we marry. All because of you. And God I hated him for it.”

Dani froze, feeling something cold wash over her, but she was quick to continue, biting against the tremble of her chin, the ache in her chest, as she pulled bobby pins from her mother’s hair, smoothing out the blonde waves with trembling fingers.

Karen laughed again. “If I have one advice to give you, Danielle,” she started as Dani robotically took the empty glass to set aside and coaxed her mother under the covers, “Don’t hate him for loving you. Otherwise you’ll end up like me. Alone and with a daughter who can barely stand to look at you.”

“Okay, mom,” Dani choked out weakly, a crack in her voice, pulling the covers over her mother’s shoulder as she curled on her side with her eyes closed.

And before she could move away, Karen reached out and grasped her wrist, pulling her close to sit beside her. “You’re happy, aren’t you?” Karen asked, looking up at her through heavy-lidded eyes, both exhausted and piercing all at once. “Are you happy?”

Feeling a burning in her eyes, Dani sucked in a trembling breath and nodded. “Yeah,” she breathed, hastily wiping at her cheeks, “Yeah, mom. I’m happy.”

Her mother blinked up at her for another long moment, and then without another word, twisted away. An unbearable ache in her chest, Dani stood on wobbly legs and made a swift exit, her fists clenched at her side. She turned off the lights and shut the door behind her, leaning against the wood to press her hands to her eyes. Rubbing away the burning and the unfallen tears until she could see stars behind her eyelids, until she could breathe properly again.

It took a long time to feel normal again. Splashing cold water against her cheeks to wash away the sting of her mother’s words. Downing a glass of water of her own in the kitchen, as if she could drown in it. A long time to feel like she could face Jamie again and pretend the last half hour never happened. Tucking it all away until all that was left was this shiny, hollow veneer. Sucking in a deep breath, she pushed her feet into a pair of reasonable boots, and pulled open the front door.

Outside Jamie was fiddling with the keys to her truck. They jangled with a metallic clatter. The scarf was hanging around her neck like a stole nearly down to her knees. Her cheeks were bright and pink with cold, as was the tip of her nose.

“You didn’t have to wait for me,” Dani said, shutting the door behind her so that they stood alone on the illuminated front stoop of her childhood house.

“Yeah, but I wanted to.” Jamie shot her a grin, which quickly faded. “Your mum all right?”

With a sigh, Dani raked her hair away from her face with one hand, the other tucked beneath her opposite arm in an attempt to ward off the chill. “Probably not,” she said. “But there’s nothing I can do about that.”

“Not your responsibility.”

“Then whose is it?”

“Don’t care. Fuck her.��

Dani gave a huff of laughter. Less because it was funny, and more because it was surprising. Jamie’s crass candor never failed to hit its mark. Arms wrapped around herself and shivering slightly, Dani shook her head.

“Don’t shake your head like I’m wrong,” Jamie said. “Because I’m not. Fuck her. You deserve better. Always have.”

It felt too much like a scene from ten years ago. Jamie, here. Jamie, looking at her like this. Jamie, fiddling with her keys for want of movement. Jamie, all square-jawed and imploring gray eyes. They might as well have been sixteen again.

Dani made an abortive motion, wanting to reach out, to grasp Jamie’s arm, to ground herself in the present, but she stopped before she could get halfway, clenching her fist back to her side and frowning down at their shoes angled in the snow. “I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head and laughing softly.

Jamie stared at her. “What for?”

“I don’t know. I don’t – Everything. I’m sorry that you had to help me drag her over here on Christmas. You have enough going on. You didn’t need to do this.”

“Well, if it wasn’t me,” said Jamie. “Then it would’ve been Ed.”

Dani did not reply.

“Right?” Jamie asked, incredulous. “Please, tell me he helps you with this shit.”

“He –“ Dani cleared her throat and glanced over her shoulder as though afraid the door might have opened, as though afraid her mother had been faking the whole thing and would be standing there, listening. “He does. More often than I’d like, to be honest.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Scuffing her heeled shoe against the snow on the front step, Dani said, “I don’t like letting her ruin everything. I don’t want her making things harder.”

“Harder than what?”

Dani shook her head, her arms tightening around her middle and her eyes squeezing shut. She couldn’t say that being with Eddie was an exercise in precarious balance, in the breathtaking knife’s edge upon which every aspect of her life was hung. She couldn’t say that every day she woke up awash in the fear that today would be the day it all fell apart, one thing too many, one little piece out of place. She couldn’t say that because saying it aloud would make it real, because saying it aloud would mean no going back, because all she had was forward. One step after another. Always forward.

Clink of the keys, and Jamie’s voice was a careful thing. “Way I see it,” she said. “Things can’t be any harder than they are. Only different.”

Dani laughed weakly and looked up. “If only that were true.”

Jamie was watching her with a steady gaze. “You can tell me, you know. Whatever it is. You can tell me. I won’t care.”

Dani’s mouth was dry. Her tongue darted out to wet her lower lip, and she whispered, “You will.”

Jamie’s eyes dropped to Dani’s mouth, following the movement, and Dani felt a warm tug low in her stomach. A thin thread of something unseen and electric tethered them in place, and then the rhythmic twirl of the keys around Jamie’s fingers went off kilter for just a moment, sending them spinning off over the railing and into the snow bank.

“Shit,” Jamie muttered. She turned and descended the few steps to trample around in the snow, calf-deep, looking for her keys.

Blinking away the coil of heat in her gut, Dani shook her head slightly and went to join her. “Did you see where they went?”

“No,” Jamie said, leaning on her knees and sweeping through the snow with her bare hands, half-crouched so that her scarf dangled and dragged across the bank. “Fuck. Do you have that spare set I gave you?”

“You only gave me a spare house key. Not one for your truck.”

“Shit.”

“Don’t worry. Eddie and I can drive you home, if it comes down to it.”

The snow melted and clung to the skin-toned nylon stockings against Dani’s legs. She scrunched up her nose and shivered, the two of them alternatively sweeping their ankles or wrists through the drift, hoping to hear the tell-tale clink of metal. After a minute or two of them being out of view of the front door, the outdoor light automatically switched off, plunging them into the shadow of the house, which leaned over them like a spectre through the night, blotting out the stars in a jagged silhouette.

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” Jamie muttered.

She was still crouched over. A length of silvery chain glinted as it slipped free from her shirt and a familiar necklace swung from her neck. Dani went very still, gaze fixed upon it.

It was a silver half-dollar piece. Dani could remember piercing it in Judy’s garage, Mike guiding her hand around the drill bit. Except the chain was different now. Longer than she remembered, and a more expensive material than whatever she could have afforded at the age of twelve.

As if watching herself in a dream, Dani reached out. Jamie froze as Dani’s fingers curled around the chain and gently tugged her upright. Jamie followed slowly, eyes unmoving from Dani. Rubbing the coin between thumb and forefinger, Dani traced the effaced imagery, faded as though from years of being worried in just this fashion.

“You kept this?” she asked, her voice sounding too loud in the quiet darkness of this moment, this brief chamber of the world.

Jamie nodded. Her eyes were dark and indistinguishable, her expression veiled, but there was no mistaking the catch of breath in her throat when Dani’s grip made the chain tug softly at the back of Jamie’s neck. Dani stared, afraid to exhale, afraid to blink, afraid to somehow break this scene, as though they were tethered together by a string of brittle moonlit glass caught in her fist.

There was the gentle drift of snow through the air, grayed flecks falling from the night sky and catching in Jamie’s wild curls like a net of stars. Dani only meant to let the necklace go, but they stood so close together that the furl of her fingers brushed against the corner of Jamie’s collarbone through the unbuttoned gap in her shirt. Jamie’s mouth dropped open to suck in a sharp breath, but she said nothing. Swallowing thickly, Dani dared to let her fingertips trace the hollow of Jamie’s throat, slipping between warm skin and cold chain. The trembling ghost of a touch.

The pulse at Jamie’s throat leapt beneath her thumb. Dani wanted to replace her thumb with her mouth, test Jamie’s heartbeat with her tongue. She wanted to slide her hand to the back of Jamie’s neck and tug her back against the brick cladding, hidden from sight. She wanted — and wanted —

Dani let her hand splay out against Jamie’s sternum. She pushed gently, a steady pressure, maintaining contact, so that she could feel the thud of Jamie’s chest beneath her palm.

“You should -” Dani rasped, “You should take Mikey home. It’s late.”

Jamie nodded. “Yeah,” she breathed. Before Dani could drop her hand however, Jamie covered it with her own, holding it in place. The circle of silver warmed beneath Dani’s hand, and Jamie said, “Wait.”

“What is it?” Her eyes had begun to adjust to the darkness, and Dani could just make out the curve of Jamie’s smile.

“I still need to find my keys,” Jamie said.

Dani blinked and then snorted with sudden laughter. Jamie squeezed her fingers, grinning, still keeping Dani’s hand against her chest in a loose grip.

“Right,” Dani said. “Right. Yeah. I’ll get the light.”

Jamie hummed in agreement. Then she lifted Dani’s hand and bowed her head. Dani watched in abject fascination, not trusting herself to breathe, as Jamie pressed a warm chaste kiss to the peak of Dani’s knuckles before — finally — letting her go.

Dani stumbled up the steps and through the front door. She had to pause in the open doorway leading into the ink-darkened house. There were the shadows of furniture throughout, vague shapes like owl-eyed creatures through the treeline. Dani leaned back against the wall just inside, holding the door slightly shut, trying to give herself space to breathe. Her hand was clenched into a fist. She swore she could still feel the press of Jamie’s mouth against her fingers. Or perhaps that was the shiver of the cold night air.

Flexing her hand, Dani let her head tilt back against the wall. Then, straightening herself with a deep breath, she flicked on the outdoor light and — braced against the chill — stepped out into the cold once more.

#thobm #the haunting bly manor #bring home a haunting #dani clayton/jamie #damie #roman writes #saw the wordcount and thought to myself #'gosh that's finally a reasonable wordcount for once'#as if 20k is a reasonable wordcoutn for a chapter #shoot me

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yehet-me-up · 3 years ago

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Content Tag Game

Tagged by EXO sister-wife Kat @yeoldontknow <3 1. what fandoms have you written for (but do not currently)?

2. what fandoms are you currently writing for?

3. how long have you been writing? on this blog?

uhhh I definitely wrote half of several harry potter and lotr fanfics in HS but that was ‘the dark times’ many moons ago. so as an adult this is my only fandom! just stumbled into kpop and stumbled onto fanfics in the most backwards way possible (was sent a meme of a 1D ‘imagine’ and was like hey I wonder if they have these for kpop and then I found them and they were not a meme, but were fucking incredible AND NOW 4 YEARS LATER (started August-ish 2017???) here we are hahaha)

4. on which platforms do you post your stories?

oh dear god i just remembered I have an AO3 account..... WHOOPS, shit 😅 might need to, y’know, update that at some point. jfc adhd object permanence is something else.

5. what is your favorite genre to write?

Personally it’s sci fi/fantasy, but here in the fanfic space I’d say..... uhh slice of life, romance, angst but make it a happy ending?? fanfic is a way for me to share all the sort romantic hopeful feelings I have about love and life and friendship and purpose 💕

6. are you a pantser or a planner?

Used to be a pantser when I started this (and when fics used to be like ?? 3k-5k) now that fics in general are longer for one-shots and series my good lord I need an outline. Especially for exo mall which is *insert meme of crazy guy with the bulletin board* a lot for my brain haha

7. one shot or multi-chapter?

8. what is the perfect chapter length in your opinion?

I’d say mine are usually 5k or so?? some series were shorter per chapter, depending on subject matter. I tend to write like... interconnected long as frick oneshots, so i don’t count those as chapters ☠️

9. what is your longest published story? is it complete?

uhhhhh good question haha. my book was 95k and I think exo mall is like *dammit math* 140k or something that has significantly gotten out of hand. I have two more fics so it will probably be like 180ish when it’s done?? not including the drabbles to come haha

10. which story did you enjoy working on the most?

I loved No Quarter and torturing Kat with her husband, also staying up all night to finish Chanyeol’s exo mall knowing kat had NO idea it was coming was a BLAST. Kyungsoo’s exo mall was one of the most ‘in the flow’ writing experiences i’ve ever had. I wrote this Baek oneshot at like 3am when i couldn’t sleep once and tbh it felt like I wrote it in a dream. ja;slkfjasd I love so many of these this is like a trip down memory lane, so I’m going to be a wh*re and say two more haha. This is the most honest and close to ‘real life’ thing I think I’ve written on here (and also one of the only sex scenes I didn’t lose my goddamned mind trying to write a;sldkfja;sdf). And lastly Ablaze, which was the longest thing I’d written (I think) and let me know that hey? maybe I could write a book someday <3

11. favorite request you’ve have written and why (if any?)

This request for Exo Mall Baek was such a joy to write! And for some reason this Taeyong drabble makes me wish I had the time/energy to write it into a full story, it gripped me so much when I wrote it, like a movie had fully downloaded into my brain out of nowhere.

12. are there reoccurring themes in your stories?

For sure! I’d say found family is a big one. Trusting that you’ll find your place even if things don’t make sense or you feel unsure. Believing that love is worth the risk and fear of trusting someone ;laksjdfal;sd. That love can be big gestures and super intense, but that after that fades away it’s the small daily moments that matter most - the people who stay and listen when you’re sad, holding hands and forehead kisses, taking care of people when they’re sick or scared or just need company, showing up to try again or to communicate even when things are hard.

Someone commented on a fic of mine ages ago that I helped them see that real love (of that small, daily, consistent kind) is possible and MAYHAPS I cried because underneath it all, that’s what I’d want people to take away - that love of all kinds is scary, but it’s always worth it in the end <3

13. current number of wips?

Surprisingly just ... 3? wow how time has changed hahaha. I have Jun + Baek for exo mall (plus some drabbles but that will be something people write in about, so I wouldn’t consider them wips) and then I maaaaay continute on here with the Jun + Min regency baes series. We shall see :)

14. three things you have noticed about your own writing?

1. I can’t NOT write Baekhyun as the biggest cheesy dork in the entire world 2. That I’ll always have endless fantasy world to live in. I have to try actively to not start new WIPs because it’s so damn easy to be inspired. If I’m ever bored I know that I can jump into some story and let myself be carried away for a while 3. that who and how i am in real life is not usually the same person that i am when it comes to the vibe of my writing, and that that’s totally okay <3

15. a quote you like from a published story.

“I wish it had been with someone like you, though,” you say, squeezing his hand.

“Someone like me?” he says, raising his eyebrows, waiting for an explanation.

You look down at the floor, trying to figure out how to put how he makes you feel into words. “Yeah, someone strong, and steady. And safe.”

He lets out a laugh. “Safe? That sounds awfully similar to boring.”

“No, no. You don’t understand,” you say emphatically, coming to stand fully in front of him, grabbing his other hand as well. “You never ask me to be anything but who I am. You’re patient, kind, caring. For the longest time I thought that falling in love would be stifling. That it would… I don’t know, take my independence. Take my spirit. Make me into someone I don’t recognize.”

You step closer, holding his face in your hands. “But I can’t think of anything I want more than to be with you. You make me the best version of who I am. I don’t know how it is for you, being with me. But when I’m with you, it just feels like… home,” you finish gently.

- from Kyungsoo’s exo mall because THIS is how I feel about falling in love now, and this story was me working out what I believed about the process (like a goddamned emo bish haha)

16. a quote from an unpublished story.

For a moment you allow yourself this weakness. It won't destroy you to admire the strong lines of his body, the intensity and focus in the set of his brows, the deep, warm color brown of his eyes as they - oh lord, he's looking directly at you. As he notices you watching him his lips press into a small smile, inclining his head towards you.

'Oh no,' you say, mortified. In a breath you've blinked and drawn your arm through Maggie's, weaving your way through the crowd and dragging her with you.

'What's wrong?' she hisses in your ear, slightly off-kilter from the drink and revelry. 'You're going to tear my arm off.’.

'Sorry, he -' With a hand you push through the front doors, gulping in the cool night air and breathing deeply to steady the erratic pace of your heartbeat. 'Maggie, what's happening to me? He looked at me and I felt so... naked. I can't explain it.'

She realizes you aren't in actual distress and laughs. 'Good. About time you fell in love. I'm delighted.'

- From perhaps a future chapter of Jun and Min regency baes series....

17. space for you to say something to your readers.

Thank you so much. Truly, from the bottom of my heart. This fandom brought writing back into my life after such a long time away and I had no idea I would love it so much. The friends it’s brought me and the kind words that made me cry or cheered me up on a shitty day or made me laugh out loud and the watching other writers grow on their journeys. Getting to hear how something I made could help you feel less alone or less sad on a shitty day is all I’ve ever wanted from sharing all this. Thank you for being here and thank you for sharing parts of yourself with me <3

Tagging anyone who sees this who would like to do it, even if you don’t consider yourself a “real writer” yet (yes you are, stop doubting yourself!!!!) 😘

#taggity tag

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elizaisthetruehero · 3 years ago

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Singing Like a Bird 'Bout It Now Chapter 1

So, I started writing another Eureka fic. Even though I have a WIP that isn't finished yet. What's probably going to happen is I'll get stuck on one and then switch to working on the other to beat procrastination. That's the plan anyway.

But here's the AO3 Link, that I posted there last night, and forgot to put here and on FF.Net. I'm doing FF.net because Eureka is an older fandom, and I think there's a couple people there who never made the switch.

Summary: Jo rushes into the Sheriff's station after 1947, and is greeted by a Zane who does not remember proposing to her that morning. But they're definitely still together. It just seems that Jo can't figure out what they hell they are, and why he's still going on dates with other women.

Zane doesn't understand why Jo's suddenly done an about face, but if it gets her to stop acting like nothing's going on between them, he can work with that. He just wishes he knew why she looked so sad when she looked at him.

Chapter 1

Jo strode into the Sheriff’s station, heart hammering against her bruised ribs, terrified of what she would find. The statue had changed. God, she hoped that was the only thing they’d changed. It would be a ridiculous change they would have made, back in 1947, but one Jo would have no problem living with.

There Zane was, sitting in her cell like he’d been that morning, casual and cool, like she hadn’t ripped his heart out and thrown it in his face. Hope bubbled up in her chest, and Jo could feel it showing in her smile. Maybe they’d be okay. She could feel the weight of the ring still in her pocket. They could still have their happy ending, walking into Café Diem, congratulations from all their friends, phone calls from their parents. Everything would be okay.

“Zane. I can't believe you're still here.”

He didn’t even look up at her, just kept thumbing through his magazine, “Where else would I be?”

“I thought after the way that I reacted,” she broke off sighing, not sure what to say about what she did that morning, or how to fix it. She’d never been good with words. “I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. Maybe I was just thinking too much. You know, I... I do that sometimes and...”

He cut her off, disinterest in his tone, “Lupo, what the hell are you trying to say?”

“I'm trying to say, ‘Yes.’”

“Yes? Yes, you’ll what, stop hogging the covers? Seriously Jo, what’s gotten into you?” he asked as he threw down his magazine.

“What we, this morning, you,” she cut herself off, dread filling her stomach like a weight. She looked around the room and saw that while Zane was in the cell, it was empty. None of the trappings or reminders of how they met that had been there when she'd first walked in that morning, before 1947. No framed poster, no bedding on the cot, no damn Panini press, no, no Liza’s box. And… Oh.

The cell door. It was locked, likely with the key that was on her belt loop. Why the hell was Zane in a locked cell?

“This morning you kicked me out of your bed at 3 am when I asked you to stop hogging the covers. And then this afternoon you threw me in jail.” Her bed. She’d kicked him out of her bed. Not their bed anymore. They didn’t live together?

Jo sat down at her desk, no able to look Zane in the eye while she tried to process everything that had happened. "Yeah, well, you shouldn’t bother me when I’m trying to sleep. You should be smarter than that," she said, forcing a smirk to her face, slipping into the familiar biting banter she and Zane had when they were fighting. Had she and Zane never gotten serious? He certainly wasn't looking at her the same way he had that morning.

“Look, Dungeon Master, when am I getting out of here?”

She played with her hands, picking the dirt out from under her nails, “I don’t know, what’d you do?”

“Nothing, you just like throwing me in jail,” she fixed her least impressed look in his direction, careful not to look in his eyes, but just above his head. If she did that, she might do something irrational and ill-befitting of a Deputy of Eureka. Like start beating prisoners. “So I unlocked a few cages, those monkeys deserved some freedom. Look, could you just let me out? I’ve got a date."

What? "Really? A date? With who?"

"Yeah, I'm meeting the blonde chick with the Ph.D. in Reproductive Biology. We're going to play doctorate," he smirked, without any of the soft and nervous affection he'd had that morning. Just the sarcastic bravado he’d had when he’d bought her lingerie to get under her skin. Did he even remember doing that anymore?

"Seriously?"

"Come on, Lupo, don't start acting like you care what I get up to or who with. We both know what's going on here, and what we’re not." No, I don’t know what we are, or why you’re sleeping with me but going out with other women. Why the hell wouldn’t I care about that!

She rushed to his cell door to unlock it, desperate to get him away from her, “Go. Get out.”

“You gonna taze me in the ass again?” and there was that grin, charming and handsome, that had caught her eye two years ago. Obsession with firearms can be a sign of an unfulfilled sexual appetite. I'm not saying that's you. But if it is, I'm at your service.She’d had to be talked out of shooting him back then. Now she wanted to shoot him, whatever blonde chick he was meeting up with, and maybe herself.

"Just get out," she snapped at him, blinking back tears that she couldn’t let fall. He walked out the door, facing her, clearly puzzled, his eyebrows drawn together in a way that she normally found cute, but right now, made her want to punch something. Anything would do.

The door shut behind Zane with a click, and Jo leaned against the cell bars, took a breath, and winced. She’d managed to clean up the blood on her face while Henry and Fargo were repairing the phones, but her ribs still needed to be taped, and the scrapes on her hands and head needed to be cleaned. She should still have an almost full tub of GD-grade bruise gel at home. Hopefully, it was still there.

Jo unlocked her door and stepped into her house, shutting the door behind her before leaning against it, letting her breath rush out of her. She took moment to close her eyes and just breathe after the chaos of the day that wasn’t even over yet. But she knew her peace couldn't last. She would have to go through her house to try to put together the pieces of the picture that made up her life, and figure out where everything went wrong.

Well, she had her minute. Time to face the music. She pushed off of the door, opened her eyes, and headed to the kitchen. She glanced around, her fingers trailing along the cool counter, taking it in. Didn’t look any different than it had when she had left that morning. Except…

She peered into the dishwasher and sighed in disappointment. Gone were Zane's plates with dried-on eggs, or his TARDIS-shaped mug, and she didn't think that was because he'd washed them already. They were probably at his old apartment, the one he'd barely spent any time at after they got together. Oh, they hadn't officially moved in together until after he'd gotten home from the Arctic, but that had been a formality, almost. Like he'd thought his question that morning had been. So let’s make it official. He’d really wanted to marry her. Spend the rest of his life with her, like she was the obvious choice.

Jo shook her head. She couldn’t think about that, the proposal that had never happened. She didn’t know how to fix the timeline, so she had to deal with this Zane in the meantime, if not forever. She really hoped she didn’t have this smarmy asshole forever.

She moved onto the living room. It looked like it had before Zane moved in, same décor, same pictures, and the same piano along the wall. The books on the shelves and her coffee table were just her books here, no physics journals or sci-fi novels or comic books. Just the thrillers and murder mysteries she liked to read on the rare occasion she had the opportunity. And, she checked the ottoman with the small storage space, some romance novels with shirtless men on the cover that she did notpull out in public. Zane had teased her the first time he’d seen her reading one, but she’d come home early one day and saw him on the couch, curled up with the blanket his mom had sent as a housewarming present, reading one. He insisted he was just being a good boyfriend, taking interest in her interests. And then he cracked a joke about the cowboy on the cover and positions. She’d been mad at him, but he made up for it.

She moved over to the stairs, heading up. At the very least, she would have to get changed and clean up, get 1947 off of her as quickly as possible. Hope that when she got out of the shower and back to town, Henry would have figured out a way to fix this.

Jo opened the door to her bedroom and stripped off her costume, heading straight for the en-suite bathroom. She showered quickly and efficiently, noting that, like most of the house, Zane's belongings were not there. She got out, wrapped the towel around herself, and headed to the sink to check the scrape on her temple. She applied GD's liquid band-aid to the cut, ignoring the sting, and went to put it away in the cabinet when she stopped, heart in her throat.

A used men's razor. She lifted it off the counter delicately, noting the short dark hairs caught between the blades. Zane's. Jo took stock of the rest of the vanity and felt a glimmer of hope that she hadn't felt since Zane spoke, back in the station.

Two toothbrushes in the holder. A can of his shaving cream. His aftershave, cap off because he could never remember to put the lid back on. She checked the shower again, and saw the bar of soap in the corner of the caddy, the kind that she never used, but, had clearly been used by someone.

Okay. Zane didn’t have any of his stuff downstairs, but he was over often enough that he had some space on her bathroom counter. Though not over enough for them to be exclusive. She really hoped she didn’t have to see him on his date. Her self-control was good, but not that good, she thought as she taped up her ribs and smoothed gel over her bruises. Those needed to fade, and quickly. The last thing she needed was someone asking what happened to her arms.

After giving the gel a minute to dry down, Jo walked back into her bedroom and got dressed, jerking open her drawers to see what was in each one. Her underwear, tank tops, T-Shirts and sweats all still in drawers. She yanked the last one open, wondering if it was empty if it was still being used for her sweaters, or…

Zane's clothes. Not all of them, his wardrobe probably had more than just a pair of jeans, two pairs of boxers, a couple of V-necks and, a crumpled-up plaid shirt. But he kept clothes here. Not enough to be living here, which the bottom floor had told her. But clean clothes for those rushed mornings when he wouldn't have time to run home before heading to work. He'd probably shown up to GD too many times wearing yesterday's clothes, thick stubble on his face.

Who had suggested it? Had she cleared it out and offered it to him? Had he brought them over in a backpack or duffle, slipping them into the drawer with a nervous grin? Were they the result of lazy weekends spent in her bed, ignoring the world outside?

She pulled her jeans on before picking up her dirty clothes and bringing them over to her hamper, and right on top of her clothes, was a pair of his boxers. Just more evidence that Zane was part of her life, but she didn’t know how she fit into his. If she went over to his apartment, would she find similar signs of her presence? Travel-size versions of her shampoo and conditioner, a change or two of clothes, maybe part of a spare uniform? Would her robe be there, or, no, she caught herself. He was fucking other women. If she got cold over there, she’d borrow one of his hoodies and a pair of his sweats.

And that was if she even went over to his place. She really needed to stop dawdling and get back to town so she could talk to Carter and Henry, see what was going on, and if they could fix this. And if they couldn’t, well, she’d been a Special Forces operative and was now a Deputy in Eureka. She could adapt. Maybe she could get Zane to adapt with her. Maybe, she thought as she slipped the ring onto a chain and placed it around her neck, not willing to be without it in case Henry found a way to fix this, maybe he’d even try to put this ring on her finger again. But that wasn’t happening tonight. Because she froze.

#eureka fic #eureka #jo lupo #zane donovan #a town called eureka

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laurawritesandgames · 4 years ago

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For Beetlelands Week 2020

Title: Write Like the Wind

Fandom: Beetlejuice (Musical)

Rating: T

Ships: Beetlejuice/Adam/Barbara

Prompt: One Bed

Summary: Adam wants to do something for nerd-kind now that he has ghostly powers. Beetlejuice and Barbara help out. Spoilers for The Winds of Winter.

When Beetlejuice returned from the Netherworld, he came back powerful. Barbara wasn’t exactly sure how—the story changed with each telling.

But he returned with enough power to teleport her and Adam pretty much anywhere he could visualize. Thanks to Google Street View, he could visualize quite a few things.

Being able to teleport was very helpful when Adam had a specific request.

The ghosts and demon appeared inside a very fancy home, with sunlight streaming in the windows. Beetlejuice was hovering between Barbara and Adam, holding their hands. Barbara suspected this wasn’t strictly part of his teleportation ability, but it was a nice excuse to hold hands.

The demon shimmered in and out briefly, wincing.

“Everything okay?” Barbara asked.

“Teleporting all the way to New Mexico is a lot. We’re definitely gonna need to stop by a bolt-hole on the way back.” According to Beetlejuice, undead travellers could recharge in places with a lot of “death energy”—graveyards, usually, or famous battlefields.

The clicking of a keyboard drew the three of them to an office where a large, grey-haired man sat in front of his computer.

Adam sucked in a breath. “There he is,” he whispered.

Beetlejuice rolled his eyes. “Sexy, you’re dead. He can’t hear you.” Sure enough, the writer hadn’t turned around at the sound of Beetlejuice’s voice.

“Oh.” Adam looked a bit disappointed. “I guess I just assumed that he’d be attuned to the supernatural. He’s a master of the sci-fi/fantasy genre! Anyway, let’s go see what he’s working on.” He crossed his fingers as the three of them huddled around the author’s computer screen.

Barbara felt a bit awkward reading over someone’s shoulder, and looked politely aside. She’d never gotten into sci-fi and fantasy the way Adam had; he’d know better than she would what they were looking at.

Her husband’s face fell. “Wild Cards?!” he spluttered. “Wild freaking Cards! I know he only edits the anthologies, but they’re a distraction!” He ran his hands through his hair. “Just write the books, George!”

“I can take over his computer and threaten to start deleting files until the books are done!” Beetlejuice crowed. “Make it seem like he’s got a computer virus!”

Adam’s gaze flicked between Beetlejuice and the author’s computer a few times.

Barbara cleared her throat.

“No, of course not,” Adam said quickly. “Thanks for saving me from myself, sweetie.” He kissed her cheek. He focused on the author, holding out his hand. “Sorry about this.”

The author stopped what he was doing. He saved then exited out of the document. Adam searched through the computer files for a moment then made the author open up a document titled The Winds of Winter.

The document opened after a few moments. ‘Want to pick up where you left off?’ Word asked helpfully, and the author clicked on it. There were a bunch of unfamiliar words and names on the page that showed up.

No sense in me reading this. Barbara decided to look around a famous author’s office. She’d expected him to have a bunch of memorabilia from the TV show, but the furnishings were really quite ordinary. Unsurprisingly, there were a lot of bookshelves filled with books.

There was silence from the author, whose fingers were poised over the keyboard.

“C’mon, Sexy, get writing.” Beetlejuice hovered in mid-air, bobbing slightly. He was also eyeing the author’s office, but he was probably wondering where to put spiders.

“Er, there’s no way I can give him partial control, can I? I can’t write the next book!”

“Not how it works, newb.”

Adam sighed. “Okay. Um, my thoughts definitely won’t be his, but maybe I can make a start. Barbara, you took that course in creative writing in college, right? Do you have any tips?” Adam was an amazing man with many good qualities, but pure creativity wasn’t one of them.

“I can try, but I wasn’t writing award-winning fantasy novels back in college.” Barbara dredged up some memories of the TV show. “Maybe you should make the White Walkers show up! You know, inject some tension.”

“It’s an Arianne Martel chapter.”

Barbara had no idea what that meant. “Um…have a dragon show up?”

“I appreciate the thought, but Arianne is going to treat with Young Griff, and the entire point is that he’s a supposed Targaryen that doesn’t have dragons.”

Beetlejuice spoke up. “Have some brothers and sisters bone. Shove a little smut in there.”

“Not only does that not work in this chapter, I’m also not comfortable with that.”

“Or skip to a Dany chapter,” Barbara suggested. “I just want good things for her. How’s she doing, anyway?”

“Not well.” Adam made the author pull up a Dany chapter. He watched the blinking cursor for a few moments, frowning in thought.

Beetlejuice added, “You could write a bunch of dialogue in what’s basically a white room and see where it takes you. That’s an A-plus writing strategy, right there.”

Adam sighed, rubbing his forehead. After a few more moments of intense concentration, he looked away from the computer screen.

The author shook his head, blinking a few times.

“Maybe just having the document open will prompt him to write?” Adam asked hopefully.

The author closed out of The Winds of Winter and went back to a document called Wild Cards_edits.

Adam’s shoulders slumped.

Beetlejuice hovered closer. “Just casually mentioning that we can take out the phone, snap some pics of these new chapters, and threaten to leak them if he doesn’t write the books.”

“Photos of chapters over his shoulder?” Barbara said. “That’s pretty terrifying.”

The demon chuckled darkly.

“Ah. And that was exactly the point.” Beetlejuice might have changed a lot since his return from the Netherworld, but his love of fear and chaos that wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

“No, Beetlejuice,” Adam said. “It wouldn’t work anyway. What kind of writing would you get if someone was bullied into it?”

“Bleh, you’re no fun. Where to next, Sexy? That Rothfuss guy?”

“Let’s just go home.”

“Have to make a quick stop first, but okay.” Beetlejuice grabbed their hands and teleported them away.

They landed in someplace pitch black. Beetlejuice lit a match of neon green fire, revealing a small underground crypt barely large enough for the three of them. Every surface was draped with dust and cobwebs. A half-open coffin showed patchy, stained velvet. If there was a door to this crypt, the match didn’t reveal it.

Beetlejuice tilted his head. “Ahhh, that’s better.” He frowned slightly, as if listening to something. Barbara couldn’t hear anything. “Yep, think it’s still sandworm free! Lemme just recharge for a while.”

“You’ve been here before?” she asked.

“Nah, but I saw drawings from some ghost hunters back in the Netherworld. Ghost hunters can go topside to bring ghosts back, and they need places to rest, too.”

“So, ghost hunters are ghosts who hunt other ghosts?”

“Yeah, and they’re the worst. The Bureau of the Dead won’t let anyone go topside unless they’re a boot-licker. But it was good to know a few of their tricks when I got banished up here.”

Barbara glanced at Adam, who normally would’ve loved Netherworld lore. It wasn’t every day that Beetlejuice opened up about a place that was, in his words, “total Meh-ville.” But Adam wasn’t even listening. The gloomy atmosphere of the crypt fit his gloomy expression perfectly.

“Hey,” Barbara said softly. When Adam turned her way, she squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out the way you wanted it to.”

“I guess art just has to happen at its own pace. You can’t force it. I just feel bad for all the other dead readers who’ll never get to read the end of the series. All they’ll have is the TV show’s ending.” He snorted in disgust.

“Maybe you planted a seed. Who knows? Inspiration is a funny thing.”

“And there’s always fanfic,” Beetlejuice added.

“It’s not the same,” Adam said with a sigh.

“Heh, speaking of fanfic….” Beetlejuice hopped into the coffin. “Oh noooo. There’s only one bed!”

Barbara and Adam stared at him. She had no idea what he was talking about.

Beetlejuice huffed. “Oh, come on. None of you ever read a romance fic? Hell, a romance novel?”

“No,” Adam said.

“Not really my thing,” Barbara added. She was a fan of biographies and autobiographies of famous people, personally. “And, also? Not a bed. It’s a coffin. And sleeping in a coffin is also not my thing.”

“Jesus, so picky.” Beetlejuice snapped his fingers, and the coffin became their bed at home. “Get over here.” He hesitated then said, “Please.” Barbara and Adam had had conversations with him about asking instead of demanding; happily, it looked like those conversations were sticking.

Beetlejuice had just done them a huge favour, and a little cuddling might cheer Adam up. Barbara went to join Beetlejuice, shooting a questioning glance at Adam. He followed them, though he was still brooding.

She and Beetlejuice let Adam slide between them as the three sorted themselves out. (Sometimes, Beetlejuice would throw in extra limbs or a few clones just for the added challenge.) After some scooching and wriggling, Barbara’s cheek rested on Adam’s shoulder as she stroked his chest gently and held his left hand. Beetlejuice had one arm over the two of them and was, for some reason, nibbling on Adam’s hair, which sometimes became kissing the top of his head. After a while, you got used to a certain amount of weirdness.

Gradually, Adam began to relax. First, the tension left his shoulders. Then, he cracked his neck and his jaw untightened. (He’d needed to wear a mouthguard when he slept when he was alive. He was always grinding his teeth.)

“Maybe…” he murmured. “Maybe I could write the ending to the books. It’ll be fanfic, but it’ll be something, at least. I can work on that project while the Deetzes are asleep. I’ve never written fic before, but I could try. It’s not like I need to eat or sleep. And I’ve been looking for a new project ever since I finished the model.” His model of the town had a place of pride in the attic, which the Maitlands had cleaned out and repurposed into an arts and crafts room. They still kept up with their hobbies, but they had fewer now that they were busy rehabilitating Beetlejuice and parenting Lydia.

“I’m sure it’ll be great, hon.” Barbara kissed his cheek. “I’ll help however I can.”

“And I can tell you all about what fic tropes you can put in!” Beetlejuice said. “Or what fic tropes we can do ourselves.” He must’ve been thinking about some sexual ones, for he chortled and squeezed Adam’s butt. “Gotta keep the rating PG-13 for Beetlelands Week, but…you know which ones.” He winked at no one in particular, it seemed. Sometimes, he pretended he had an audience; Barbara and Adam just ignored it.

Beetlejuice moved to nuzzling Adam’s throat. After a few moments, he began patting Barbara’s hair.

Barbara giggled. “Aren’t you supposed to be recharging?”

“It’s called multitasking, baby.” Idly, he commented, “Shit, fluff is hard to end. How do you even end something that by its nature has low stakes and minimal conflict?”

What was he talking about? Barbara shrugged.

Adam thoughtfully said, “Maybe with a kiss?”

“Hah!” Barbara couldn’t help but grin when Beetlejuice laughed like that. This wasn’t an evil cackle or a dark chuckle, but an open, cheerful sound that she’d been hearing more and more since they’d started dating. “Perfect! You’re so ready to be a fic writer, Sexy!”

Beetlejuice kissed Adam on the lips, and the cuddling in a false bed in an underground crypt continued.

Not for the first time, Barbara reflected, My afterlife is so weird.

But it did have its perks.

#beetlelandsweek2020 #beetlejuice the musical #beetlejuice #beetlelands #adam maitland #barbara maitland #adam x barbara x beetlejuice

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fantastic-rambles · 3 years ago

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Fandom: Sk8 the Infinity

Characters: Shindo Ainosuke (Adam), Kikuchi Tadashi (Snake)

Warnings: What are ethics?, Genetically Engineered Humans, Human-Animal Chimeras, Animal Traits, Slavery/Ownership, Implied Abuse/Neglect

Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: Shindo Scientific is at the cutting edge of genetic engineering, and their most popular products are exotic chimeras that the obscenely rich purchase as pets. But when they start to explore the field of human chimeras, the young heir of the corporation finds himself developing a sense of empathy for their latest prototype. [This one is weird to tag, I think. But it's not canon-typical pet play, or sexual pet play in general, but it does involve ownership of "pets," so... yeah.] [TadaAi Week 2021 | Day 6: Sci-fi AU]

Ainosuke stared at the beautiful, white-winged creature in the gilded cage. It seemed to be sleeping, the wings furled around itself to conceal its body. But even though it simply sat there, perched on the couch inside the cage, he couldn't look away.

Of course, he could have asked one of the staff to go in and wake it up, to prod it until it flew around and showed off its plumage that shimmered with an iridescent phosphorescence, but he was content to just watch it like this. There was just something peaceful about the silence, and Ainosuke drew his knees up to his chest as he sat on the cool stone floor, breathing quietly.

Eventually, it began to stir, the gossamer wings stretching open to reveal the humanoid figure inside, looking only a few years older than him. Long, black hair fell down its back in a silky cascade, providing a sharp contrast to the wings while it stood up and stretched pale, delicate limbs. The white robe it wore fell down smoothly from one shoulder, draping in artful folds around its body. And it looked around with bright green eyes, a smile appearing on its face when it spotted the boy sitting outside the bars.

It made some small, unintelligible sounds as it walked over to Ainosuke, its wings folding neatly behind its back. But the noises sounded happy, and Ainosuke smiled back as it crouched down just inside the bars, looking back at him. Nervously, the boy looked around, but the two of them seemed to be alone. So he raised one finger to his lips while he dug around in his pocket, pulling out a chocolate bar. He stretched his arm toward the cage, but in the instant that the treat passed through the bars, a piercing wail made both of them flinch backwards while security ran in, his father in the rear.

"Again, Ainosuke?" Aiichiro snapped, grabbing his arm and roughly pulling him upright. He glanced at the candy bar on the floor before kicking it aside, where it thunked dully against the wall. "What were you thinking? You know that its diet has been precisely developed. If you give it something like that, it might get sick, and then all the investment into its development will go down the drain! And what if it had grabbed you? I thought I raised you to be smarter than this!"

"I'm sorry, Father! I'm sorry!" Ainosuke apologized, cringing. The prototype fluttered just inside the bars, its expression distressed before a wall of men formed between it and Ainosuke. "I just thought it might be lonely. It always just has to stay there--"

"Because it's a creature, Ainosuke! Even if it looks like that, it's not human! It's mindless, heartless, driven only by instinct like a mundane animal. You've seen what it does whenever we need to show it off to investors. You need to get rid of this useless sentimentalism of yours if you're seriously intending to take over this company when you get older. Do you understand?"

Reluctantly, Ainosuke nodded, glancing back toward the cage and catching a flash of soft white feathers past the wall of black. It didn't seem anything at all like his father said, though: even though it couldn't talk, it seemed reasonably intelligent and responded to his words when he talked to it. It wasn't like the other chimeras that Shindo Scientific had developed, but maybe it was just because it was their first successful part-human.

The others were certainly more dangerous pets: the part-lion, part-goat, part-snake chimeras that had become their flagship product had savaged more than one owner who didn't care for them properly. And then there were the pegasi that had provided the breakthrough for this angelic prototype: earlier versions of them had had the unfortunate tendency to buck off their riders when they were in the air before they were able to improve their docility. Of course, all buyers signed lengthy waivers absolving the company of responsibility in case of any such accidents, but there were always more buyers eager to purchase the latest exotic pet to show off to their friends despite the risk.

It was true that this one lashed out at its handlers during the exhibitions, but Ainosuke was convinced that if they just spoke to it, they wouldn't need to resort to violence to make it show off, unlike the others. He glanced back at the cage to see it soar above the barrier of guards, its emerald eyes fixed on him, but then it jerked and plummeted downward with a tranquilizer dart in its neck, pulling a cry out from Ainosuke's chest. He pulled against his father's grip, wanting to go and make sure that it was okay, that it hadn't broken anything, but Aiichiro firmly pulled him away.

"That's enough of that. Now, come on, or you'll be late for your lessons."

"Are you sure about this, sir? Nobody is allowed inside without protective equipment and a prod, usually. Shall I call in the guards, just in case?"

A technician hovered anxiously around Ainosuke as he unlocked the door of the cage. He was still dressed in a black mourning suit, but his scarlet eyes were dark with determination.

"I don't need any of that."

He stepped into the cage, closing the door behind him. The years had taken their toll on the beautiful creature of his memory: the wings were slightly tattered with many of the feathers askew, the black hair was messy and knotted, and its clothes were torn and stained. But the worst were the eyes: wary, like a cornered animal. Even so, Ainosuke had been impossibly relieved to know that it was still alive. Most pets were only kept for a few years, then put down to make space for the next fad. To have been able to buy it back after this long had been close to an impossibility.

It growled at him as he approached cautiously, his bare hands outstretched. He slowed down but continued to press forward, stopping when it bared its teeth and bated, its wings stretching out to their full length and sending gusts toward him.

"It's okay. It's me, remember?" Ainosuke called out softly, waiting for it to settle down again. He took another step forward, only to be greeted by the same reaction. Slowly, he reached into his pocket, and sharp green eyes followed his movements before he withdrew his hand to show it the chocolate bar.

"Remember?" he asked again, taking one more step forward. It was still clearly wary of him, but it didn't try to intimidate him this time. So Ainosuke continued to advance, freezing again when it bared its teeth at him again when he'd gotten within wing's length. Carefully, he extended the candy toward it, staying very still as it leaned forward, eyes fixed on his face. The silence stretched between them for over a minute before the candy was snatched out of his hand and raised to the creature's mouth. When it bit down on the wrapper, Ainosuke chuckled, stepping forward.

"Wait, you need to--"

An enormous white wing smacked into him, knocking him to the ground while a voice called out, "Ainosuke-sama!"

He raised a hand before slowly getting back to his feet.

"I'm fine. Don't yell. You'll startle it."

It had curled up defensively on its couch, shining eyes staring at him, and Ainosuke smiled gently, spreading his open hands again.

"It's okay. I scared you, right? I'm sorry. But the wrapper won't taste good. Let me show you?"

He took a cautious step forward, bracing himself for another buffet, but nothing came. It still shrank away from him as he moved closer, the wings twitching and sending small bursts of air toward him, but he was eventually close enough to reach out and take the candy bar back, though it flinched when he did.

With deliberate slowness, Ainosuke unwrapped the candy before holding it back out again, and it reached out just as slowly to take it, leaving a smear of melted chocolate on his fingers when it finally pulled it away and tasted it. And it hummed as it chewed, making Ainosuke smile more broadly as he raised his hand to his mouth, licking off the chocolate.

"Can I touch you?" he asked, extending his hand slowly. It watched the hand approach, but it didn't do anything to stop him, so he rested his hand on its head, waiting to see its reaction. Nothing happened, and feeling encouraged, Ainosuke gently stroked its hair, repeating the gesture a few times until it seemed to relax slightly.

Raising his other hand, he brushed it gently against one of the wings. It growled again when he caught against a loose feather, but the noise didn't sound like a threat, so he continued to carefully caress the dull, white feathers. For a while, there was no other sound besides that of chewing, but when it had finished eating, it leaned forward, resting its head on his chest. And Ainosuke sighed, bending down slightly so he could look it in the eye, so close that there would be nothing he could do if it suddenly decided to try to savage him.

"Welcome home."

#sk8 #SK8 the Infinity #skate the infinity #tadaaiweek2021 #fanfic #fan fic #sk8 adam #shindo ainosuke #ainosuke shindo #sk8 snake #kikuchi tadashi #Tadashi Kikuchi #shindo aiichiro #aiichiro shindo #mine

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godslayer04 · 4 years ago

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𝐿𝑜𝑜𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝑜 𝑅𝑜𝓁𝑒𝓅𝓁𝒶𝓎?

Look no further! Here I am always looking for new roleplays unless otherwise stated, as I often go through many that don't seem to last. So I'm always on the look out for a perfect, or at least, better, partner that will be able to keep up and stay. Below you'll find information on how and what I write. If by the end of such you find yourself interested and think we are compatible partners, shoot me a message here or on one of my other listed sites of communication and roleplay. See you soon!

A Little About Me - Online I go by Zibiqi, or just Z, even Dragon as an alternative if you'd prefer, I don't mind either way. I'm 20 years old and have been roleplaying for about seven or eight years. I live in the Central Standard time zone, if that's necessary information for you. Also, I don't think personal gender is important for roleplay so I won't be sharing that and don't need to know what you are either. (Really, you could be a toaster for all I care. You do you kid.)

Writing Style - I write in third person past tense, no other point of view and I won't roleplay with anything else either. Sorry not sorry. I also write as if I were writing a short story or book with a fair vocabulary and good English with as little errors as possible and expect the same in return. (Understandable if English is not your first language, I'll let more errors slide if you're still learning of course.) I also write upwards of 400 words a reply and more with a minimum of three paragraphs, though I prefer five or more. My rate of reply is also that of approximately once a day, more or less depending on the day and what I'm doing though I'll be sure to notify you if my replies will be delayed for any long period of time.

Genres - My go-to genre has always been and always will be fantasy, there's just so much that can be done with it and I'll never get tired of it. Most of my OCs are made for fantasy, but there are some as well as some plots that are sci-fi, fiction, and even horror. I am up for all genres but I'm used to a rather flexible roleplay style that comes with fantasy so keep that in mind, I won't knock anything until I try it. The only qualm I have is romance, which I will not do a sole plot of, romance will always be a subplot and therefore secondary to some other story. (Additional info regarding romance found below in "Characters and Fandoms.") If romance is included, then you must be 18+ and your characters must be 18+ as well, because that's the way it is and the way it should be. That being said, romance is only optional and if it's not included, then of course younger partners and characters are welcome. (As long as said partners can keep up with my writing style, then I'll accept it.)

Characters and Fandoms - It should be clearly noted that I only roleplay with OCs and will only roleplay against OCs as well. No canon characters or plots! I am more than welcome to do many fandoms and roleplay in those universes and settings with all rules applied, just with OCs. I also mainly roleplay as males, though I do have a few females I may use at my discretion. (Meaning I will decide if I want to use them, so please don't ask for me to use them because your request will be denied, especially for romance purposes.) Additionally, should romance be involved in any case, I almost exclusively only write MxM. That's the way I like it, and that's the way it'll be. I have and can write MxF, as well as FxF, though again, at my discretion and with myself as the male muse in MxF.

Plots - I have pre-made plots!!! I have lots of them, and even more characters with their own subplots each. There's nothing I love more than an original story, so if you've got a plot, by all means, bring it along! Let's work together to make a good story—don't make me do all the work, and I won't make you! Let's meet in the middle and get the best of both worlds to assure we will both enjoy the roleplay and make sure it will last. I will have plots and character bios posted as I come to crave and make them.

Out of Character - Yep, I'm one of those that likes to fantasize over the story and characters making playlists and mood boards and everything in between. I also enjoy making friends with my partners. So by all means, please! Let's chat while we roleplay, shall we? I often prefer to keep RP and OOC separate for the purpose of organization and convenience, so maybe keep that little side note in mind if you're not a fan of having multiple chats or a potentially annoying partner who might get a little chatty OOC.

Three Important Side Notes - 1) Do not under any circumstance, shape, or form, control my character. It's not cool, and it defeats the purpose. Small, obvious tasks like the opening of a door is okay, but nothing bigger or subjective. 2) Going along with the no-controlling rule, don't auto-hit in any shape or form either. Again, small and avoidable is okay, like your character handing mine something. Just don't tie them up or stick a sword through them on a whim halfway through your reply and then write out the rest of it as if I'd just go along with it. Because I won't. 3) Please please please, pay attention to detail! If I've clearly written something like the time of day, don't change it to the complete opposite in your next reply. If there's an issue with detail in my replies, just let me know, okay? Not a big deal.

Well if you've made it this far, then here's the various ways you can reach me! This post will be edited as need be, including a note if I'm overcrowded or too busy to accept any new partners. So as long as this post is up, hit me up anytime! (P.S. Please don't just send me a mere "hey" or a "hi" or "hello," give me a little more context to let me know you're genuinely interested. Introduce yourself, for example, and maybe even let me know what you're looking for!)

Tumblr: godslayer04

Instagram: godslayer04

Discord: godslayer04#6047

Email: [email protected]

Virtual Space Amino: http://aminoapps.com/p/4nk4u1

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jemelle · 5 years ago

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these are ties that bind (3/8)

you can also find this story on ao3!

fandom: criminal minds

rating: t

(chapter) word count: 2,861

masterlist

summary: emily and hotch must pretend to be in a long-term relationship in order to foster carrie. shenanigans and serious conversations alike ensue.

three.

On Monday, Emily took Carrie to her first day of school. Hotch had wanted to come, but he had to take Jack to nursery. Secretly, Emily was pleased to have this moment alone with Carrie. She remembered all too well the feeling of starting a new school, getting used to a whole new set of customs and rituals.

She had called the principal yesterday and received her express assurances that Carrie would be able to start school mid-year. Her credits would transfer over, but Emily knew that wasn’t the difficult part. It was starting classes when everyone else knew each other’s names, when they had silently picked a seating chart and knew who they’d partner with for group projects.

Carrie had insisted on finding the school office by herself, although Emily had offered to come with her. She had suggested (facetiously, knowing Hotch would never tolerate it) that her FBI badge might help smooth things over, which had drawn a much-needed laugh. She had also suggested that Carrie should think about taking some honors classes, but decided to shelve the conversation when she saw the obvious flashbacks her request had caused.

They pulled up in front of the school, an imposing brick building that reminded Emily of the quintessential high school from every teen movie. Students were already streaming into the building, chattering as they went along.

Emily searched for the right words to assure Carrie that she was capable of doing this. She was sure Hotch would have made an eloquent speech, but heartfelt sentiments were never her forte. She settled for flashing Carrie a smile and a thumbs-up.

Carrie smiled back and reached across the console to hug Emily, who reciprocated with only a moment’s hesitation. Two hugs in almost as many days was new territory for Emily, who tended to receive them more on a bimonthly basis, but she had a feeling it might become the new normal.

Emily watched Carrie walk towards the school until she had disappeared through the front doors. The honks of cars behind her informed her that she was holding up the carpool line, but Emily didn’t feel even a little sorry.

By Wednesday, Emily knew the jig was up. JJ had been shooting her and Hotch strange glances all day, looking as if she was trying to resist blurting something out in front of the entire bullpen. As Emily passed by JJ’s office, she felt a hand dart out and grab her wrist. Before she could respond, Emily was pulled into the darkened office.

“What do you want?” She knew, of course, but it was better to let it play out. There was a chance, albeit minuscule, that JJ simply wanted Emily’s help in planning a surprise party for Rossi.

“Is this true?” JJ thrust the paper into Emily’s face. It was the address change form that she had just submitted. Damn. She and Hotch had been hoping the paperwork would pass to Strauss unnoticed, but they should have known JJ was never anything less than thorough.

“Yeah, it is.” She’d answered the question, technically, but they both knew that wasn’t what JJ was really asking.

“But you’re not attracted to men.” Emily had come out to JJ during one of their “girls’ nights,” while Garcia was fetching another round of drinks. JJ had been talking about some guy at the bar who she thought was cute, and Emily had felt something snap in her. She didn’t want to have to hide anymore: she knew JJ would be accepting even if she didn’t fully understand. And so Emily had blurted it out before she really knew what she was doing. JJ, to her credit, had blinked once before asking Emily if there were any girls at the bar she thought were good-looking.

“Thanks, I know.” She hadn’t meant to sound so peeved, and regretted it immediately when she saw a look of hurt flash on JJ’s face.

“I’m just looking out for you.” Some days it felt as though that was JJ’s real job, caring for the team and trying to remind them not to lose sight of the mundane life they were fighting to protect. It was mostly futile, and they all knew it.

“I know,” said Emily, smiling at JJ and reaching out to squeeze one of her hands.

JJ looked horrified as a thought came to her. “Hotch didn’t make you do this, did he?” At that, Emily nearly doubled over with laughter.

“God, no. If anything I forced his hand.” JJ looked confused, and Emily didn’t blame her. Present situation included, there were very few worlds in which Emily would voluntarily ask Hotch to move in with her.

“So, remember when you said you could see me with kids?” JJ nodded, realization beginning to dawn on her face. “Well, Hotch is currently helping me take care of Carrie and neither of our apartments was suitable for two adults, a teenager, and a very energetic toddler.”

“Does he know about…” JJ gestured vaguely at Emily. “...you?” This time, Emily didn’t bother pretending innocence.

“No,” she said. “And I don’t plan on telling him. There’s no reason for me to do so. Even if our marriage is a sham, that doesn’t mean I’m going to cheat on him.” Emily had been firm in that belief since she had hatched this scheme. Hotch was a man who took fidelity seriously, and she couldn’t do that to him, especially after Haley.

JJ clasped her other hand around Emily’s and squeezed. “Don’t get hurt, okay? And if you do, tell me so I can kick his ass into next week.”

Emily grinned. The fierceness of JJ’s love reminded her of how lucky she was to have found her place at the BAU. “Just, please, keep this between us,” she entreated JJ, before walking to Hotch’s office to inform him that they had been made.

Apparently, two year olds don’t usually attend school full-time. Emily had, but Hotch’s horrified look when she told him conveyed to her that this was yet another example of Elizabeth Prentiss’s less than superb parenting. Jack went to preschool three days a week, but the rest of them he spent with either Hotch or Haley.

On Thursday, Hotch was called away to an early morning meeting. The higher-ups were making budget cuts again, and Emily knew he and Strauss would have to fight tooth and nail just to avoid losing a member of the team. Carrie had already decided that she would prefer to take the bus to school, which left just Jack and Emily. She had the day off, courtesy of Hotch, providing no urgent cases arrived. At noon, she was supposed to drive Jack to Haley’s house, but right now they were enjoying a quiet morning together.

As she finished up her paperwork, Emily kept one eye on Jack, who was playing with his extensive dinosaur collection. She sighed when she signed the last form, relieved to be done so early. There was a new sci-fi anthology that she had been meaning to read. Emily shut her eyes, intending on resting them for a brief moment before starting her book, but opened them again when she heard movement beside her. Jack had clambered up on the couch next to her and was staring at her intently.

“Read?” he asked, gesturing at a picture book on the side table. Emily picked it up.

“I don’t know if I’ll be very good at it.” She was still getting used to living with a toddler. So far, she had managed to avert any world-ending cataclysms, but being alone with Jack was an entirely different situation. This time, there was no backup.

“Read,” he insisted, so Emily did. Jack wasn’t shy about informing Emily when she did things wrong. Apparently she read too fast and she didn’t do the voices like his Mommy did. When Emily completed the first book, saying “The End” in what she hoped was an appropriately dramatic tone of voice, Jack pointed to another one. Before she knew it, it was time to take Jack to Haley’s.

She had only met Haley a few times, but Emily harbored an intense dislike for anyone who would hurt Aaron Hotchner. They may not be the best of friends, but watching Hotch’s face fall every time Haley informed him that he would arrive in DC too late to see Jack would make any sane person sympathize. This was only compounded upon actually meeting Jack; he would stay up as late as possible if it meant he could see his father.

Emily strapped Jack into his car seat, struggling briefly with the buckles. She didn’t understand how Hotch could make it look so effortless. As soon as they left the neighborhood, she began blasting Melissa Etheridge, not caring what other people could hear. Her day off, her music.

She turned the music down as they arrived in Haley’s neighborhood. The cookie-cutter houses reminded Emily of her and Hotch’s neighborhood, but this area was much more affluent. Even with a lawyer’s salary, she would bet Hotch and Haley had taken out a large loan to afford to live here.

Haley was already standing on the front porch when they arrived. Emily checked her watch: five minutes early. Good. She looked surprised to see Emily clamber out of the car, though Hotch had already cleared it with her. Emily sent a silent prayer to whatever god was listening as the straps to Jack’s car seat came undone easily. The last thing Hotch needed was to have Emily look incompetent.

Jack refused to walk the two hundred or so feet to Haley, so Emily scooped him up and headed towards the house. When she reached the porch, Emily set him down, and he toddled over to give Haley a hug. She beamed at him, and the wrath clutching Emily’s heart loosened slightly.

“Thank you,” Haley said. Emily smiled thinly at her.

“Hotch will be by to pick him up tomorrow.” Safer to stick to business. It lessened the chance Emily would say something she’d immediately regret. She waved at Jack. “Bye, kiddo. See you soon.”

“Bye, Auntie Emily!” he chirped in response. That was new. She had just been Emily so far, or ‘mily if Jack was especially sleepy. She’d have to check with Hotch that the nickname could stay, but Emily found she quite liked it.

Jack walked through the open door, and though Haley turned to watch him, she didn’t go inside. Emily loitered on the porch, sensing their conversation wasn’t finished. She was right.

“Does he make you happy?” Haley’s voice lacked malice. Emily supposed she was curious; it must have been a long time since Hotch had made Haley happy.

She considered the question. Obviously, there was a right answer, given the pretend nature of their relationship. But as Emily thought about Hotch’s kindness towards her and Carrie, the way he was willing to risk Jack, the best thing in his life, so that Emily could have a chance to care for a child the way he did, she realized it was also the true answer.

“Yes.” Haley headed inside without a response, and Emily couldn’t tell whether she was pleased or irritated. It didn’t bother her either way.

When Emily poked her head into the living room, she saw Carrie sitting calmly on the couch. It was late and she had assumed that Carrie had already gone to bed, but apparently this was not the case. When Carrie noticed her staring, she motioned Emily to sit with her. Emily settled on the ottoman facing Carrie.

“What’s up?” she asked, feeling strangely as though she were the child in this situation, as if Carrie were the one summoning her for an intervention.

“Where’s Hotch?” A neat sidestep, and one that only served to further intrigue Emily.

“Getting ready for bed, I suspect.” Although Emily’s experience living with men was somewhat limited, Hotch took more time in the bathroom than any other man she’d met, although she respected that it meant she didn’t have to see him change.

As if summoned, Hotch emerged, freshly showered and wearing pajamas. He smelled like shaving cream, Emily reflected as he sat down next to her, and something else she couldn’t place. Although she made no move to initiate contact, Emily nevertheless felt more solid with him next to her. Whatever Carrie had to say, they could deal with it, together.

“I just wanted to say thank you,” Carrie started. “For taking me in when no one else would.”

Emily reached out to clasp Carrie’s hands, squeezing them tightly, but it was Hotch who spoke, his voice clear and words familiar. “Carrie, there’s no need to thank us--”

“But you don’t need to pretend anymore.” Emily and Hotch exchanged a look, but it was not a glance between friends (or whatever they were). It was the same look they exchanged when an unsub revealed crucial information during an interrogation. What did Carrie know?

“What?” Emily had learned early how to feign innocence. It had saved her more times than she could count, from escaping the wrath of Elizabeth Prentiss to baiting a suspect to pretending to not be so fucked up when pretty girls hit on her in bars.

Carrie, however, was having none of Emily’s act. “You know what I mean. You expect me to believe that you’re married to a man who you don’t even call by his first name?”

Emily felt again like a chastened child, called out with one hand in the cookie jar. She looked to Hotch for moral support, but he looked as blindsided as she felt. When he turned to face her, she could see mounting rage in the way his body tensed, although his face remained impassive as ever. Then Emily remembered their one rule: don’t lie to Carrie.

“You got us there,” said Hotch. Emily marveled at the way he could switch from angry to personable in a moment, although the glare he first shot Emily made clear that they were going to talk later. “Was it just the names that gave us away?”

Gathering information on their tells, that was smart.

“The names were definitely a giveaway.” Carrie considered them for a moment. Mostly, though, it was the lack of touching. I can see no kissing --maybe you’re just very private people-- but you don’t even hold hands and I’ve only seen you hug once.” She gestured at them. “Even now, you’re sitting with a couple inches between you.”

Right now, Hotch would probably prefer they sat even farther away, Emily thought bitterly.

“But I’m not going to say anything, if that’s what you’re upset about.” With that level of perception and intuition, Carrie would make a grade-A profiler. Not that Emily would wish their lives on anyone.

Emily still didn’t trust herself to speak, so she simply nodded as Hotch spoke again. “Thank you for trusting us.” He checked his watch. “It’s late. Are you going to bed now?”

Callie responded affirmatively and slipped out of the room, leaving Emily and Hotch in stony silence. When Hotch spoke again, his voice contained undisguised anger. “Prentiss, what the hell was that?”

The use of her last name only stoked in her a desire to fight back. Emily might break down crying, but Prentiss wouldn’t. Prentiss wasn’t vulnerable, wouldn’t apologize.

“Don’t yell at me,” she hissed. Hotch stiffened, then softened at the look on Emily’s face.

“I’m sorry. It was out of line for me to speak like that, but what you did was also out of line. We agreed no lying to Carrie.” She couldn’t meet his gaze. Self-loathing welled inside her. How could she have ever thought she was good enough to be a parent when she couldn’t even keep a basic promise?

“Emily?” If she lifted her head there would be no denying the tears in her eyes.

“I tried to. It just… I just…” failed, she finished mentally. Couldn’t deal with the idea that what was maybe my only chance at motherhood could disappear. Although she wasn’t willing to verbalize those thoughts, she still felt she owed it to Hotch to try and explain. “I got scared. And I know you’ve heard this a lot recently, but I’m sorry.”

Hotch didn’t tell her she shouldn’t be sorry. She had messed up, and they both knew it. Now the only question was what he would do. Never trust her again, Emily supposed. Their partnership had seemed so promising, but of course she had ruined it. Outside of work, she could never do anything right.

“Next time, Emily, I just need you to tell me.” After years spent under the thumb of the Catholic Church, finding someone with a true capacity for forgiveness always surprised Emily. Hotch had surprised her again and again.

“I will, Aaron,” she said, trying out the unfamiliar name on her tongue. It still felt a little too strange, not natural enough for casual conversation, but she could work on it. “I won’t let you down.”

It was a tall order to live up to, but Emily had to try.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #queerminal minds #*mine #*fic #these are ties that bind

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starfleetdoesntfirefirst · 4 years ago

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(Discovery Season 3 Episode 4 “Forget Me Not” Spoilers)

Greetings disco friends, here is my attempt at a fix-it fic.

What I mind most of all was them showing his graphic death scene, whether it’s partially-temporary or completely-temporary, after doing the same with Hugh and Michael’s then-death scenes. As far as the future of Gray's plotline goes (this season and into the next, since we know the actor is filming Season 4), I think there's a chance (especially given that GLAAD was helping them write the storyline) that he'll be completely brought back from the dead like Hugh and a chance that he won't be brought back fully but rather will continue to hang around noncorporeally like he's doing now. But either way, as with Hugh and Michael's graphic then-death scenes, that doesn't change the fact that they showed that in this episode.

I think I've reached the point of hard 'no’ on continuing to watch the show myself. (Though of course I completely support y’all in watching or not watching the show, as works for you!) And I’ll still be around here, writing fic based on Season 1 through to this episode.

Also, I’m currently brainstorming ways to put something affirming into the fandom this season while not watching, since I won't be writing fix-it ficlets and…obviously I know no one ~depends~ on my fix-it ficlets, but this community means a lot to me and I guess I want to feel like I'm putting something into the fandom even as I'm (aside from continuing to make content for older season stuff) walking away, if that makes sense? (Maybe some book giveaways of sci-fi books with trans characters, tho that may or may not work logistically/financially, or something like that.) Please let me know if you have suggestions! <3

Dreampt Of More Things

Other, F/F, M/M | Teen And Up | Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings | 2,600 words

ao3 link in a reblog since Tumblr still seems unpredictable about when posts with links are allowed in the tags

and/or, full fic + tags here:

Tags – Jett Reno, Jett Reno’s Wife, Michael Burnham, Hugh Culber, Ellen Landry, Philippa Georgiou (original Captain version), Adira Tal, Paul Stamets, Gray Tal, Sylvia Tilly, Tracy Pollard Adira Tal/Gray Tal, Jett Reno/Jett Reno’s Wife, Ellen Landry/Amna Patel, Hugh Culber/Paul Stamets Grief (Ellen’s) and mentions of Lorca, no serious injury since again we are sidestepping that but very brief description of Adira’s joining surgery, Gray Tal Lives, Jett Reno’s Wife Lives, Philippa Georgiou Lives

Note: This is not an Amna Patel Lives universe (Ellen Landry’s fiancée from Star Trek Online), as I am Making A Point about how no, it’s not that queer stories about loss and grief are bad or that I personally don’t want to write/read them; it’s about context, and how many characters have died over the course of your franchise, and the nature of your franchise, and what to portray versus not portray onscreen (in the context of your show), and how you’ve advertised your characters, and reading the room.

***

“Burning the midnight oil, huh?”

Jett looks up as Michael steps closer to her workbench in the corner of Engineering, raising an eyebrow, as Michael had known she would.

“Here to check my work on your outfit, Commander?” she asks, laconically, before bending her safety-goggled face back to her work.

Michael grins despite herself as she pulls out a chair opposite Jett. “I’m entirely confident in your work, Commander.”

“So you’re here to pester me because…?”

“Because I’m curious to see the work-in-progress. And, more importantly, because I ran into your wife on her way to turn in for the night, and she told me to tell you that she’s taking you out on a fantastic date when all this is over.”

“Where’s she think she’s gonna scare up a place to go out on any kind of date in the ass-middle of the 32nd century?”

Michael grins again. “I think it was a ‘looking for a way to take my wife on a fantastic date and if I cannot find one I will create one’ kind of thing.”

“Yeah, that tracks.” Michael can hear the smirk in Jett’s voice as she fiddles with the wiring on the angel suit’s chestplate.

“Don’t stay up too late, Commander,” she says as she stands. “We’re still gonna need you on shift tomorrow.”

Jett grunts in acknowledgement, and Michael smiles as she walks past the spore cube and towards her quarters for the night.

***

“How are you doing with all this, Landry?” Hugh ventures, after a few days of deliberation, when he and Ellen have a quiet moment alone together at the end of a meeting.

Ellen takes a minute before answering, dropping a PADD into her bag. “One of my security lieutenants said it seemed implausible that we’d be able to find a way to send Burnham back in time, once again, especially with the way the Burn affected ability of the time crystals on Boreth to interface with the suit even if we are granted one.”

Hugh raises an eyebrow and waits, silent.

“I told her that if she thought implausible was going to stop this crew, she must've not been paying attention to half the weird shenanigans they’ve pulled off.”

Hugh smiles wryly. “‘More things in Heaven and Earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy,’” he quotes.

Ellen gives him a look, and he holds up his hands in surrender. “Maybe I’ve been spending too much time around this ship’s surprisingly high number of Shakespeare fans.”

“And we’ve already dreamt of more things, haven’t we?” Ellen asks simply, pausing and leaning a hip against the table. “At this point, it’s just a matter of choosing philosophies.”

High raises an eyebrow again. “That's an interesting way of looking at it, Commander.”

Ellen folds her arms. “Yes, thank you, I am a font of excellent observations, at least when I’m not busy misreading dipshit captains and making the worst choices in the universe. You can stop giving me the sympathy look, by the way.”

Hugh watches her, silent.

“Yes," she tells him in a sing-song voice, "I have in fact experienced one or two emotions while helping prepare for a mission to bring someone back from the dead and knowing I can never bring my own fiancée back.” Her tone drops back to a flat command. “The only person in my, this, situation who actually deserves your sympathy is Amna, and she’s not here to receive it. You’re a busy man; you’re needed all over the place. Go do something clever and medical somewhere.”

Hugh watches her for a moment longer before he says simply, “I’m so sorry. For your loss.”

“Don’t. No.” Ellen’s voice is firm, though without rancor. “Those words are not for me. I am not a good widow. Do you understand that? Instead of honoring my fiancée in any substantive way, I went off and got manipulated by some dipshit. And what’s worse, if it hadn’t been for the manipulation and the secretly evil part, I might not have ever figured out to regret it. Do you understand that? Can you understand that? You’re a good person. Your partner is a good person. Do you know what it is to not just not be able to save her but to get even grieving wrong?”

For a long moment, Hugh considers what to say.

“I think your actions in helping Lorca were wrong,” he says. “I don’t think it’s possible to grieve wrong.”

Ellen, eyes dubious, grunts in a way that could be dismissal, acknowledgement, or something in between.

“Take care, Commander,” Hugh says quietly, heading for the door.

He is nearly in the hallway when Ellen speaks.

“This is part of hers.”

Hugh pauses, turning to face her again. “Hers--?”

“Amna. This mission would have been part of her philosophy.” Ellen’s lip twitches in what could be the shadow of an exhausted smile, voice still blunt and the expression in her eyes still characteristically direct. “Without question.”

***

When Georgiou returns from Boreth, she discovers that Adira has slipped down to the shuttle bay to meet her.

“How did it go?” they ask, hesitantly, eyes wide with some unknown emotion.

“Successful,” she tells them, as the two of them make their way out of the bay together. She pats one strap of her pack. “We now have a time crystal.” Given that Gray’s life rests on having a crystal to power the suit, it’s unsurprising that Adira has been worried.

“No, I mean—I knew you’d be able to do it,” Adira tells her, as if this is obvious, a trust and confidence in their eyes that makes Georgiou’s heart ache. “But, I just, I do talk with the rest of the crew, and they talked about how Pike was so f—messed up by whatever he had to go through to get the crystal, like it was really really…bad. And I just—” They stare at their feet as they walk, sneaking a quick glance sideways at Georgiou. Georgiou knows she probably looks like shit. “If I’d never come to this ship, you wouldn’t have done that for Gray. For us.”

Georgiou stops walking, turning to face Adira, and Adira watches her, their face pinched and anxious.

“Listen to me, Adira.”

Adira nods.

“This might not be something you fully, truly understand until you’re an adult yourself, but when kids are hurt or in danger, it’s us adults' job to protect you. That’s one of the most important parts of being a caring adult Human. Caring adult person,” she corrects herself. “Maybe the most important thing.”

Adira nods uncertainly.

“Saving Gray is the most important thing right now,” Georgiou says gently, as the two of them resume walking. “To all of us. You arriving on this ship was a very, very good thing for so many reasons, Adira. Saving him is one of them.”

“And that’s a go, Burnham!” comes Paul’s voice in Michael’s ear, and she launches herself upwards from Discovery’s stationary hull, the soft interior padding of the red angel suit once again surrounding her as she hovers in space, programming her coordinates.

“Jump commencing in thirty seconds,” she reports.

“Take good care, Commander,” Paul says, his voice gentle in her ear against the silent cushion of the vacuum around her.

“I will.”

A pause of a few seconds. “Adira says ‘good luck.’”

Michael can picture the two of them as they were when she flew out of the shuttle bay, Paul standing at his portable console in the shuttle bay's cobbled-together mission control, one arm around Adira.

“Tell them—” Michael swallows. “Tell them thank you. Tell them that I’ll—tell them that we’ll be back soon.”

“I will.”

The countdown completes, and Michael falls forward into a bright shower of instants.

***

Outside the generation ship, Michael shifts reality out of the timeline with a wave of one Jett-Reno-enhanced suit hand, glancing at the two figures inside the viewport in front of her before tractoring the asteroid off its course. After confirming its trajectory away from the ship, she punches the personal transporter on her chest, materializing inside.

Gray and Adira startle, each making as though to stand protectively in front of the other.

“I mean you no harm,” Michael says quickly. “And you’re both going to be safe. I am going to make sure of that. My name is Michael Burnham, and the next year is going to be very difficult for you, Adira,” she continues, feeling the words tumble from her lips as quickly as she can say them, “but I want you to know that when that year is over, you’re going to see Gray again. Gray,” she says, holding out the unpowered exoskeleton of a second timesuit, “I need you to put this on and come with me.”

Gray steps closer to Adira. “What? No, I—”

“Your name is Gray Tal, and your last name was Senna Tal, and when he was a child his favorite thing to do was to read books to his collection of plush tribble toys,” Michael says.

Gray’s eyes widen. “That’s—“

Michael continues, rattling off former Tal host facts as quickly as she can, before explaining, also as quickly as she can, about the asteroid they’ve just seen her deflect, and the symbiont, and the Discovery.

“Adira needs to have the symbiont,” she explains, “in order not to cause a time paradox. But the modified time crystal in my suit will allow me to shift you—” she nods at Adira—“back into the real timeline in time for the medbots to give you the symbiont. I just need to do it at exactly the right time, so that Gray doesn’t actually die, and you snap back just as the medbots are holding the symbiont.” Do medbots hold things? Hover them? Whatever; she’s getting the point across. And Gray is putting the suit on.

“Luckily, my amazing crewmates have worked out all the timing,” she continues, “so I just need to transport us back outside and then snap the timeline back to the right instant. And, yes, there will be two Tals in the galaxy when you see each other again and I’m sure that will make things very interesting. Ready to go?”

She holds out a hand, and Gray takes it. “I love you, Adira,” he says, as Michael reaches for the transporter.

“I love you too—” Adira says, and Michael and Gray reappear meters away in space. Adira is standing watching them, and standing watching them, and then with a motion of her hand Michael slams them back into the timeline and Gray puts a hand to his mouth over his suit visor as he watches the medbots complete the surgery and place a blanket over Adira, flying the newly-joined Human slowly away down the hallways and out of sight.

“You’ll see them again,” Michael whispers, “in just a minute.”

“Them?” Gray sounds puzzled.

Oh, right. Well, in just moments, there will be ample time for explanations. “Adira. You’ll see Adira, who’s going to be so very, very happy to see you. It will have been a year,” Michael adds, as she pulls up the angel suit controls, “and Adira is going to be so glad to see you again.”

They fall forward into sparking and sparkling time together, and all at once they’re dropping back into the timeline, floating easily in the vacuum in front of Discovery’s shuttle bay.

“Ready?” Michael asks.

Gray nods. “Yeah. I mean—of course I’m ready. I’m ready.”

Michael smiles, floating them into the bay as the forcefield ripples obligingly to let them enter and landing them both on the smooth floor, steadying Gray as his feet make contact.

“Gray?”

Adira is pressing their own hand to their mouth as Michael and Gray release the visors on their suits, and then they take a step toward him, staring as though they don’t quite believe he’s real.

“It’s me,” Gray says quietly, smiling nervously at them. “I’m here.”

This appears to be all the encouragement Adira needs to dash forward, wrapping their arms around him. He hugs them back, eyes closed as he buries his head against their shoulder. Adira is smiling and crying at the same time.

“I’m here,” he whispers to them again.

Michael steps away from the two of them, leaving them to it, and Sylvia hurries forward to wrap her arms around her. “Welcome back, Michael,” she says.

Michael hugs her for several long seconds before releasing her to accept a hug from Philippa and then a pat on the back from Paul as Tracy steps forward to scan her with a medical tricorder. “No adverse effects of the jump,” she reports, smiling.

Hugh is stepping over to do the same for Gray as Gray and Adira finally—though, Michael suspects, temporarily—pull apart. Paul echoes his motion, heading for Adira and rubbing their back before wrapping a supportive arm around their shoulder as Hugh reports that Gray is fine as well and the two teenagers grin exhaustedly at each other.

Michael watches the four of them for another moment, smiling, before turning to glance at the place where Ellen stands at her own console, studiously powering it down. Her eyes flick up just briefly toward the reunion in front of her before she lowers her gaze again, turning and slipping out the doors of the shuttle bay. Michael catches Tracy’s eye, and the two of them walk after her as Sylvia steps over to power her and Paul’s consoles down in turn and Philippa begins the process of packing the rest of mission control up.

***

At 20:00 hours in an undisclosed location on the starship Discovery, Jett’s wife leads her, eyes closed and complaining happily, into a room that has been decorated to a degree that resembles an explosion in a paper snowflake factory, while a few decks up on the bridge, Philippa settles into the captain’s chair for the night shift. Tilly climbs into bed, pulling out her PADD with its book on 30th century Earth, and at the table next to the viewport in Discovery’s rec room, Michael and Tracy sit beside Ellen in silence, keeping her company in her complicated grief. Hugh hums to himself while he brushes his teeth, and Paul yawns as he finishes slipping on his pajamas, stepping forward as Hugh sets his toothbrush back in its holder and wrapping his arms around him, humming deliberately off-key. He garners an eye-roll for his trouble, and two decks down, Gray and Adira sit in Discovery’s mess hall, gazing into each others’ eyes as Adira lapses into silence after explaining how Paul found them in the Jefferies tubes in orbit over Earth.

“You’ve had so many adventures all this time,” Gray says, grinning. “Adira Tal.”

Adira half laughs, shrugging one shoulder. “I guess so.” They look up at him. “I think my adventures are about to get even weirder, Gray Tal.”

Gray grins again. “You know, I didn’t think I or anyone I know was ever going to have the chance to visit the pools. What was it like?”

“Yes, I suppose you would have to ask me what it’s like, since it’s one of the memories we don’t share,” Adira comments with a mischievous grin of their own.

Gray laughs, shaking his head, and they beam at each other in shared exhaustion and confusion and joy as Adira begins their story and the Discovery floats onward through the night.

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mothman-is-my-girlfriend · 5 years ago

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an analysis of gender double bind and male gaze in the x files (or: chris carter, turn your location on)

Long post! I can't make a "read more" break on mobile - sorry!

This semester I'm in a body images class, which also talks about a lot of stereotypes throughout history on various types of people. the professor loves to incorporate sci-fi into the course for us to analyze and I thought, "hey, the x-files is actually a great example of these tropes!"

(I'm not trying to say anything mean about the show! I still love the show dearly, but taking this class definitely made me see it in a different light.)

The gender double bind splits women into two categories - angel v. demon. (take a guess what color these people were ugh 🙄😶) anyway, the more I thought about this, the more I realized, that while Scully is a strong woman who definently inspired thousands of young girls to pursue STEM careers, and could take care of herself, she is actually a good example of the GDB (this abbreviation for gender double bind will be used from here on out) in television.

Before I can discuss why I think this, let's break down what the angel side of the GDB is (we only need this side of it, because there are hardly any POC in the x files, and Scully fits into the angel stereotype, anyway):

no libido

pleasure from serving others

virtuous

does not think for themselves

sacrifices for others

While Scully clearly has thoughts of her own and disagrees with Mulder a great deal of the time, she still makes sacrifices for him (spends less time with her family, cancels dates to work with him, etc. these are only a few I can think of right off the top of my head - if you have more examples for this let me know! this would make a great paper) these sacrifices also tie into the fact that Scully is in a sense constantly working for Mulder. Sure, the audience considers her his equal, but if you think about it... her name is never put on the door. She never gets her own desk. Mulder often runs off and leaves her behind on cases.

My second argument for the GDB with Scully is that she is never really allowed to be sexual on screen. (In the first episode, she even has boring whitey-tighties! I can assure you, 90% of women who are under age 50 would not be caught dead wearing those.) Yeah, I know it was the 90s, but still - It's a running gag on the show that Mulder loves porn, and he's even had a few close encounters with women in the show (ex: that One Vampire when Scully was missing; Detective White (I wanna say that's her name??) from Syzgy.) Sure, Scully is heavily implied to have a one night stand in Never Again, but it's not covered in as much detail as Mulder's encounters. Adding even more evidence to the pile -- William. Scully gets pregnant and has a child, without ever really being shown to have had sex explicitly at any point surrounding that time period in the show. (I know it's implied in All Things, but again, it's not explicit. Sidenote: notice how the slightest mention of Scully being even remotely sexual came from Gillian Anderson, and not the male directors. And even then it's still extremely vague!) They never even confirm in-show that Mulder is the father (but shout-out to the person on tumblr rn circulating the script with the line confirming that Mulder is the dad). William is just the miracle child who popped out from seemingly nowhere.

----

Moving onto Male Gaze! There's... so many examples of this, it's not even funny. I probably won't be able to provide specific examples for a lot of these, because it's been several months since I've watched the show again, and it's just so deeply ingrained into our culture. First, let's break down what male gaze is, and why it's demeaning -- essentially, it is when men view women as sexual objects. Male gaze creates a power imbalance by suggesting that women are objects. It suggests that women are on display for judgment.

One great example of male gaze, (that technically really isn't anyone's fault, it's just that Gillian Really Is That Short) is the "diminutive" way of framing shots. It's where a director frames a shot so that the woman is much smaller than the man, or also frames extreme closeups so that you don't see all of her. (And looking through my camera roll, there definitely are a lot of closeup shots of Scully... but this really doesn't prove anything, necessarily.)

My second example is "fragmentation", which is when a shot is framed so that you only see parts of a woman's body. A great example of this technique is seen in - I want to say Milagro (?) where there are a lot of closeup shots of Scully's face because Padgett is eyeballing her hardcore. I specifically remember a closeup of her lips. Which, I mean... that's pretty clearly sexual.

The episode Milagro actually leads into my third example of male gaze in the X-Files. It's something called "Return Gaze" - where a woman both acknowledges a man sexualizing her, and also returns it. Did it seem weird to anyone else that Scully was "enthralled" by her stalker?? ( I cannot make this up. The official synopsis for the episode describes her as "enthralled" by him. what the fuck.) That's because it was written by a man who thinks that women like being sexualized via male gaze.

My last qualm about how the writers treated Scully in this show doesn't actuall have anything to do with GDB or male gaze, or any of the things I've been learning in class. I just really hate (and always have) that Mulder is always portrayed as the person who is ""right"" so to speak. Even though he always has flimsy cases for his ideas. Even though it's always Scully providing the science behind his ""right"" answers. It's always "lol Scully science is dumb look at this photoshopped photo of a ufo! i am Right™!" Was Mulder technically right about a lot of things? Sure, I'll give him that. But he would never have been able to prove or assert any of his claims without Scully, and I really hate how her science behind his answers was always tossed to the side and made to be less important.

Again, I'm not criticizing the X-Files as a whole, (...except that I am... and I think a lot of in the fandom are rly sick of the shit chris carter put into the show...) I really do love this series. I just thought it would be interesting to share my observations with you all. If you can think of any other good examples of Gender Double Bind or Male Gaze in the X-Files, comment below! I'll add them into this analysis! Who knows, I might even get the chance to make a full blown paper on this.

#analysis #the x files #x files #gender double bind #male gaze #fox mulder #dana scully #long post

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butcanijustnot · 5 years ago

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Falcon and The Winter Soldier Fan-Script - Episode One - My life is a garbage dumpster that is also on fire, Poetry by James Barnes.

Author: Crystalline / @butcanijustnot

Fandom: Marvel x reader

Tagging: @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69, @sci-fi-guy2442

Summary: I wrote a whole damn episode for FATWS because I’m damn excited.

Word Count: 6000 roughly

~SCENE ONE~ EXT. OUTSIDE APARTMENT - DAY

Episode opens as the camera pans along the wall and window of a normal looking modern apartment. Grunts can be heard, along with the sound of rustling fabric and zips/Velcro straps.

BUCKY BARNES:

(Voice-over)

You know when someone goes out of town and asks you to look after their pets while they’re gone?

INT. INSIDE APARTMENT - DAY

The camera is focused on BUCKY BARNES as he sits in an old-fashioned armchair, looking bored as he stares off at something the audience can’t see behind the camera.

BUCKY BARNES:

(Voice-over Cont.)

That’s basically what I’m doing now. Except my friend is a little further than ‘out of town’ and ‘their pet’ is less of a cat or a dog and more of a-

Scene shifts, now showing BUCKY’s perspective. He’s staring at a hallway full of doors.

One of the doors fly open to reveal SAM WILSON, dressed in his falcon suit which has been resewn and repainted to match the Red-White-Blue Captain America colour palate. He jogs up in front of BUCKY BARNES and the scene freeze-frames on him

BUCKY BARNES:

(Voice-over cont.)

A jerk.

Scene resumes.

SAM WILSON:

(Sighs and gestures to his suit)

Okay, how do I look?

BUCKY:

Like the American flag threw up all over you.

SAM:

Perfect.

BUCKY:

(Gesturing to the wings)

You look like a parakeet, or a parrot. (Smirks) Samuel want a cracker?

SAM:

(cutting him off with a groan)

Just tell me I look nice, idiot!

BUCKY:

(sighs, glares at SAM and then deadpans)

You look nice, Sam.

SAM:

Thank you.

Sam turns and walks back down the hallway, disappearing into the same room he appeared from.

BUCKY:

(shouting after him)

BUT DO SOME SQUATS IF YOU WANT AMERICAS ASS

SAM:

(offscreen, insulted)

HEY!

Camera shot widens to show OLD STEVE ROGERS in an armchair next to BUCKY.

OLD STEVE ROGERS:

He’s right.

SAM:

(offscreen)

Oh, Shut it, you!

---RUN TITLE CARD---

~SCENE TWO~ INT. DOORWAY - NIGHT

BUCKY BARNES and OLD STEVE ROGERS are standing at the open front door, the two characters facing one another as they speak.

STEVE:

Are you sure you don’t want me to stay, Buck?

BUCKY:

Steve, you’re 105. Go do old people things. I’ll be fine here.

STEVE:

Because I can stay if you want.

BUCKY:

No, Steve, you’re okay.

STEVE:

I just want to make sure you’re going to be alright here.

SAM:

(Offscreen)

He’ll be fine!

BUCKY:

See? Sam’s here. I’ll be fine.

STEVE:

Okay, well call me if you have any problems or if you need anything.

BUCKY:

Steve?

STEVE:

Yes?

BUCKY:

Leave.

STEVE:

Fine, alright. (Yells) Bye Sam!

SAM:

Goodnight, Geiser!

OLD STEVE ROGERS leaves, and BUCKY BARNES shuts the door behind him. He pauses, staring at the closed door for a second with an almost-sad expression on his face. He shakes his head, turning on his heel and walking back down the hallway towards the kitchen, where SAM WILSON is eating dry cereal straight out of the cardboard box and staring of at the wall. BUCKY BARNES looks at him, confused.

BUCKY:

Hey, man, are you okay?

This snaps SAM WILSON from his thoughts and he looks over at BUCKY BARNES

SAM:

Yeah, I’m fine. (Eats cereal)

BUCKY:

Are you sure about that? Because you look like you’re having an identity crisis, and you promised me you would give me warning next time that happens.

SAM:

I’m not having an identity crisis!

(Sighs)

I’m just worried, man. I’m Captain America now, and I have no clue what to do.

He pauses, shaking his head.

SAM: (Cont.)

How did Steve do it?

BUCKY:

(Jokingly)

What, be a safety risk to himself and others? I think he was just an idiot.

SAM:

(Laughs)

No, no. How was he so… Good? All the time? It seems impossible but he made it look effortless, like he was just always like that.

BUCKY:

He was. It was exhausting.

SAM:

THERE! Like, how am I supposed to live up to that! I’m not a super-soldier or a genius or someone with any sort of superpowers. I’m just Sam Wilson, idiot with a bird backpack.

He starts pacing.

I never expected to be a superhero, but I dealt with it. Then I never expected to be a well-known superhero, but I dealt with that too, but this… I’m CAPTAIN AMERICA now, and I don’t know if I can deal with that…

Pause

BUCKY:

You’re having an identity crisis.

SAM:

I’m having an identity crisis!

BUCKY grasps SAM’s shoulders and looks him dead in the eye).

BUCKY:

I’m willing to do anything to support you, but if you play Taylor Swift again, I’m jumping out that window. (gestures)

SCENE CUTS and SAM WILSON is lying on the floor, curled up in a ball with his back pressed against the foot of the couch. The floor is strewn with candy wrappers and ice-cream containers. BUCKY BARNES is lying on the couch, absentmindedly eating gummi bears. ’I knew you were trouble when you walked in.’ plays softly in the background in addition to the soft drone of the TV.

SAM:

I’m just saying there is no way I’m not going to screw this up. There is literally no way.

BUCKY:

(Snorts)

Of course.

SAM:

(Looks up at him, insulted)

You’re stunningly unhelpful!

BUCKY:

Okay, sorry, I promise I am trying to be reassuring. I’m just saying, of course you’re going to screw it up at least once. Steve screwed up a bunch of times.

SAM:

(Annoyed)

When?

BUCKY:

Sam, he was an ice block in the ocean for almost a century. Do you know how badly you have to screw up for that to happen?

Sam’s expression is unreadable for a moment, then he laughs

SAM:

Yeah, I suppose. I just can’t stop doubting myself. Every time I try to think about anything, my brain just starts running into over drive thinking about everything I could do wrong. What if I can’t save someone? What if I’m the reason someone dies?

BUCKY:

Alright, I can help you.

Hops off the couch and moves to sit at SAM’s side

BUCKY: (Cont.)

I know that you’re stressed because you have no idea what you’re going to do, and you’re terrified that you’re going to screw it up. The reason that I know this is because Steve acted exactly the same way when he was first picked up the Shield.

(Pause)

But Steve knew what he was doing. Not as Captain America, he was as much of an idiot then as you are now, but when he needs to make a decision this important, he knows what to do. He gave you that shield for a reason, and that’s because he knew you could do this.

SAM:

(slowly nods)

Yeah, I suppose that makes sense, thanks. Hey, why didn’t you take up the shield? I know Steve would have picked you as his first choice.

BUCKY:

He asked, but I declined. I didn’t think I could do it. And not in the way you’re thinking. I literally could not spend time in that suit doing those things and not be reminded of some of the worst times in my life. I still have too much stuff going on in my head.

(Sighs)

The world needs a Captain America, but that Captain needs to be a reasonably stable human being that people can rely on. You might maybe screw it up, but I think I’d melt down. Much as I hate to admit it, you’d be a better Captain America in your sleep than I would be making my best effort.

SAM nods. There is another pause.

SAM:

So, how did Steve start being Captain America?

BUCKY:

He started punching Nazi’s but I don’t think that’s a real option for you.

SAM:

Actually-

BUCKY:

(Interrupting)

Let’s consider something else first. (Pause) I mean, apart from that I think he just put on the suit and started running around. Was in TV, a couple of old movies. (Suddenly clasps Sam on the shoulder excitedly) You should be in-

SAM:

(interrupting)

No! I’m not doing that! Come on, there has to be more than that!

BUCKY:

(Annoyed)

Sam, unless you feel like doing experimental steroids, I don’t know what to tell you!

SAM:

Hell no!

SAM sighs, then reaches over and grabs a laptop off the table, bringing it into his lap and opening it.

SAM: (Cont.)

Okay, I’m just going to google him. Do some research, learn everything I can. I’m sure I can figure something out.

BUCKY stands and stretches, shaking his head.

BUCKY:

Alright, and while your driving yourself insane, I’m going to get some sleep. Goodnight, cuckoo bird.

SAM mumbles a goodnight and BUCKY EXITS. Sam goes back to staring at his laptop. Everything appears to be rather calm. The scene freeze-frames.

BUCKY:

(Voice-over)

Had I known what was going to happen that night, I would have handled that whole situation every differently.

A series of images flash up on the screen, too fast to be properly seen. These are scenes from later in the episode, showing the trials from last night. SAM on the street, SAM fighting, SAM losing.

BUCKY:

(Voice-over cont.)

But I didn’t.

And I completely blame myself for everything that happened next.

~SCENE THREE~ INT. APARTMENT - MORNING

It’s morning. BUCKY BARNES emerges from his room, still hazy with sleep. He heads for the kitchen, mumbling to himself. He opens the fridge and starts poking around.

SAM

(Offscreen, sounding unsure of himself):

Hey man, you’re up early…

BUCKY:

(Not looking at him, still staring into the fridge):

Yeah, how’s are you? Better question, how did stalking Steve go?

SAM:

Uh, I mean, my night was interesting…

BUCKY:

What do you-

BUCKY finally looks offscreen at SAM, and his expression turns to shock. The camera shifts to SAM. He is dressed in his Captain Falcon gear, which is torn and shredded, riddled with gunshots and covered in his own blood. SAM opens his mouth to speak, but before he can the scene freeze-frames.

BUCKY:

(Voice-over)

This is the moment I realised Steve was not paying me enough for this.

Not by a long shot.

Scene resumes

BUCKY:

(Out loud)

What the fuck!

SAM:

(Quickly)

I can explain!

BUCKY:

How, Sam?!? How can you possibly explain this?!?

SAM:

I… I just… I can, I promise! But I need a minute first-

Sam pauses, swallowing and swaying slightly on the spot

SAM: (Cont.)

Because I think I’m going to pass out.

BUCKY rushes forwards towards SAM, stabilising him.

SCENE CUTS and Sam is lying on the couch, BUCKY sitting next to him and nursing one of his many wounds. He pressed too hard and SAM hisses in response.

SAM:

(Whining)

Careful! That hurts!

BUCKY:

(Annoyed, glaring at SAM)

I’m glad! This was astronomically stupid of you, and you still haven’t explained any of what happened! Frankly, you look like you got dragged through a thorn bush backwards!

Sam is silent, embarrassed.

BUCKY:

Oh my god, I swear if you wrecked Ms. Andersons roses, I’m going to kill you.

SAM:

No, nothing like that! I just- Just let me- Okay, I’ll explain.

SCENE CUTS to last night, after BUCKY went to bed. Sam is scrolling the web, reading various articles. He finds a series of videos labels ‘Captain America PSA’s’, and shrugs, clicking on it. These are the videos from ‘Spiderman: Homecoming’, and as SAM continues to watch them, he starts laughing like a maniac.

BUCKY:

(off-screen, banging on the wall and yelling from the other room)

I DON’T CARE IF YOU LOSE YOUR MIND BUT CAN YOU DO IT QUIETER?!?

SAM:

(Voice-over)

You were kind of an ass about it.

BUCKY:

(Voice-over)

I have the vaguest memory of this.

(Pause)

Why are you telling me all this? None of it explains why you look like hell.

SAM:

(Voice-over)

I’m getting there.

SAM closes his laptop, sighing and rubbing his face with his hands. He stands, leaving the living room and heading to his bedroom. The Captain Falcon costume is on a mannequin in the corner of the room. SAM crosses the room to stand in front of the suit, looking it over.

SAM:

He just put on the suit and started running around…

He swallows, reaching out to touch the fabric.

I can do that.

SCENE CUTS back to the present, with SAM and BUCKY on the sofa. BUCKY looks both disappointed and pissed off. BUCKY reaches over with his flesh hand and hits him on the forehead, not hard enough to hurt but hard enough to send the ‘you’re an idiot’ message clearly.

SAM:

(Insulted)

OW!

~SCENE FOUR~ EXT. SHADY DARK STREET – NIGHT

SAM WILSON is walking down a street, now dressed in the Captain Falcon suit, mumbling under his breath as he walks.

SAM:

(Whispering)

I can do this; I can do this.

He coughs and deepens his voice, trying to imitate Steve Rogers.

SAM: (Cont.)

Hey, stop that! Stop right there!

He places his hands on his hips.

SAM: (Cont.)

I’m Captain America. I’m Captain America. I’m Captain America.

He drops his façade and sighs.

SAM: (Cont.)

What am I doing?

The turns a corner and finds a group of juvenile teenagers loitering in front of a house, sitting on the front steps or leaning against the fence. They’re smoking and drinking, being obnoxiously loud and taking up the entire pavement. SAM looks up at the block of apartments they’re in front of, and sees people peeking out from behind the curtains at the juveniles, looking very uneasy. SAM takes a deep breath.

SAM:

(Whispering to himself)

Here we go.

SAM walks up to the Juveniles, gesturing for their attention. They sneer at him, and one of them, THE LEADER, walks to the front of the pack and glares at him.

SAM:

What’s going on here?

LEADER:

Why do you care? You’re not a cop. (He looks at SAM’s suit and sneers) Nice costume. Where’s the party?

SAM:

Right here, apparently, that’s the problem. You’re loitering, you’re littering (he kicks a beer can away from his foot and back towards LEADER) and you all need to leave.

The LEADER’s expression darkens, and he looks as if he is about to speak. Before he can, the scene freeze-frames on him.

BUCKY:

(Voice-over)

Oh my god, you got beat up by children?

SAM:

(Voice-over)

No! Shut up!

The scene resumes.

LEADER:

(Annoyed)

What’s your problem, man?

SAM:

(Ignoring him, changing the subject by pointing at the drink in his hand)

How old are you all?

LEADER:

(Aggravated)

Listen, man, I don’t know who you think you are but you need to leave right now before things get ugly.

One of the GIRL’s sitting on the steps pipes up, interrupting and trying to get the leader’s attention.

GIRL:

Uh, guys?

LEADER:

(Brushing her off)

Just a second, Amy.

The girl, AMY, presses him further, rising from her spot on the steps and walking down to stand next to him.

AMY:

No, really, this is important.

LEADER:

(Aggravated)

Amy, not now!

AMY:

(Yelling)

THAT’S THE FALCON!

The JUVELINES goes silent, the group’s gaze moving between LEADER and SAM, then erupts in a series of whispers. THE LEADER looks at SAM and then AMY, then SAM and then AMY again. SAM gestures to the suit and takes a deep breath, trying to be confident, but as he speaks, he gives away how unsure of himself he is.

SAM:

Actually, I’m Captain America now.

AMY:

(Confused, stepping back)

What?

LEADER:

No, man, no. I’m an idiot, but I know what Captain America looks like. He’s like…

LEADER gestures above SAM’s head.

LEADER (Cont.)

taller and…

He gestures to SAM’s arms.

LEADER (Cont.)

bigger and…

He takes a step back and gestures to all of SAM.

LEADER (Cont.)

…he just doesn’t look like that.

AMY:

Dude, shut up!

SAM sighs and rubs his face with his hand.

SAM:

Okay, let’s try this a totally different way.

SAM presses a button on his glove and his wings extend with a thunk, red and blue. It’s almost intimidating.

SAM:

Leave.

The juveniles mumble to each other, before looking at LEADER. His face is unreadable for a second, glaring at SAM but eventually he sighs, shrugs and gestures for everyone to move somewhere else.

LEADER:

Not worth it, guys.

They leave, taking turns glaring at SAM as they go. SAM presses another button and his wings fold back into his suit.

SAM:

(Quietly, to himself)

No, I’m sorry, but I’m going to count that.

BUCKY:

(Voice-over, in disbelief)

Wait, that actually worked?!?

SAM:

(Voice-over)

Yeah. I mean, I don’t know why, but yeah.

BUCKY:

(Voice-over)

So, if the kids didn’t do this then who did?

SAM:

(Voice-over)

I’m getting there.

SAM shakes his head and continues walking, mumbling under his breath. After a moment, his attention is drawn to a telephone pole covered in a number of “Missing” posters. He frowns, stopping in front of it.

SAM:

(Quietly, to himself)

I thought they took all those down…

SAM leans closer to the poll, squinting as he trys to read the print on the poster.

SAM (Cont.):

Wait a second…

SAM rips down one of the posters and reads it over, looking at the image, the numbers, and all the other information with a frown.

SAM:

April 17… That’s yesterday…

SAM looks back up at the telephone pole, reading all the posters, tearing them off the pole as he reads them. He looks around, realising they are on every pole. He grasps the posters and looks over them again paying attention to the dates.

SAM:

April 10th, April 11th, April 11th April 12th, April 13th April 15th, these are… these are recent.

He pauses, looking at the photos.

Fourteen kidnappings in a month, eight in the last week… That doesn’t just happen, what’s going on?

SCENE CUTS back to the present, with SAM injured on the couch and BUCKY attending to his wounds. SAM gestures with one arm as he speaks.

BUCKY:

Excuse me for interrupting, I hate to keep bringing this up, but how the hell did any of this lead to…

Bucky makes a machine gun motion with his hands towards SAM. SAM gives him a dirty look in response.

SAM:

There wasn’t a machine gun! And I’m getting there! Just chill out!

BUCKY:

Sorry. So, you’re investigating missing poster people.

SAM:

I’m going to be honest with you, my first thought was aliens.

BUCKY:

Understandable. But it wasn’t?

SAM:

Oh no. It was worse. It was so much worse.

~SCENE FIVE~ INT. 24 STORE - NIGHT

SAM speed walks into a store, grabbing a city map from a wall and a notebook and slamming them both on the checkout counter. The checkout clerk, a tired old man, raises his eyebrows as he rings it up.

CLERK:

Nice outfit.

SAM:

Thanks, I’m Captain America.

CLERK:

(Hums) Interesting interpretation but okay.

SAM:

No, you don’t understand, I’m actually… (cuts himself off with a sigh) Never mind.

SAM hands over the money and takes the items.

SCENE CUTS and SAM is sitting on a bench illuminated by street lights. She’s looking at the ‘missing’ posters and then marking off points on a map in a red pen. These are the points where the people went missing. SAM leans back, looking over everything on the map and all of the posters. He groans, unable to find a connection.

SAM:

(Mumbling to himself)

Same time and all of them within the same mile radius…

SCENE CUTS and Sam is walking along a street, alternating between staring at his map, a poster and looking around at the streets. Apart from the fact that it’s pitch black, the streets look normal.

SAM:

Come on, what happened to you, Spencer?

He crosses the street towards a park, where he can hear voices. He enters the park and immediately regrets it, as the voices turn out to be the Juveniles from earlier. He sighs, walking past. The LEADER notices SAM and rises from his spot, walking after him.

LEADER:

(Calling out)

Are you following us?

SAM ignores him, staring down at his map.

LEADER:

Hey! Are you following us!?! I’ll call the cops; I don’t care who you are!

SAM looks up from his map, annoyed.

SAM:

I’m not following you.

LEADER:

Really? It certainly looks that way. You told us to move, we moved, now leave us alone.

SAM:

Like I said, I’m not following you. I’m just trying to figure out what happened to these people. You’re all fine where you are.

The LEADER is quiet for a second, looking at the posters in Sam’s hand, then nods understandingly.

LEADER:

(nodding at the posters)

You’re looking for those people?

SAM:

Yeah, do you know about them?

LEADER:

I know most people have given up hope of finding them.

LEADER pauses, before nodding gesturing over at the JUVENILES.

LEADER (Cont.):

Yeah, most of us knew at least one of them. It’s kind of a close community around here. Same high schools, church groups, family friends, that sort of stuff.

There is a pause filled with silence between the two of them.

SAM:

I know this is a weird request, but do you think you could help me? If you knew these people, you might be a smarter than the cops.

LEADER scoffs, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms.

LEADER:

I’ve been telling people that for years. Nice to hear someone else say it for once.

LEADER looks over his shoulder at the group of JUVENILES. They look back at him, mouthing words and making vague gestures. He responds with his own gestures, equally vague. He turns back to Sam.

LEADER:

I’ll see what I can do. Stay here.

SAM nods and LEADER walks back over to the group. They talk for a moment. LEADER gestures to SAM and the other teenagers look at him. AMY grabs LEADER’s arm and he nods. Eventually he walks back over to SAM.

SAM:

What’s the verdict?

LEADER:

(Sighs)

Can we touch them?

SAM:

(Confused)

…What?

LEADER:

Your wings. Amy wants to touch the wings.

SAM:

Oh, uh-

SAM pressed the glove button and extends his wings.

SAM:

I guess that would be alright. And then they’ll help me?

LEADER:

As much as we can.

LEADER gestures for SAM to follow him back to the group. While they’re walking, LEADER speaks.

LEADER:

I’ve got to warn you, some of us are pretty drunk.

SAM:

I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear you say that.

LEADER:

(Smirks)

As you wish.

SAM:

Hey, Man, do you have a name?

LEADER looks at SAM, hesitant for a moment. Finally, he answers.

LEADER:

My name’s Jacob.

SAM:

Hey Jacob, I’m Sam.

JACOB:

Good to know.

SCENE CUTS and SAM is sitting with the group of teenagers. They’re taking turns running their wings over the metal of his wings. His map and posters are all over the floor, and the other kids are discussing and sorting them. SAM points to one directly in front of him.

SAM:

And this one is… Lucy?

Jacob quickly picks up the paper and passes it over.

JACOB:

Yes.

Sam looks at another teenager, a GIRL.

SAM:

And you knew her?

GIRL: (Looks at JACOB and then nods)

Yeah, Lucy Ashforth. A bunch of us knew her actually.

SAM:

Where’d you know her from?

GIRL:

She was part of my church circle. Used to be one of the best members. I swear my grandmother liked her more than she likes me.

The group laughs. It wasn’t that funny, but hey, they’re drunk. SAM gestures to the group, but mainly JACOB and the GIRL.

SAM:

Tell me everything you know.

GIRL is quiet for a moment, taking a swig from her drink. JACOB pipes up in her place.

JACOB:

Family used to have a lot of money, but a hefty divorce and her, her brother and her mother were practically homeless. They were able to get back on there feet enough to afford a house here, but they were always living pay check to pay check. She was a good student, down to earth and sweet.

GIRL:

She was cool, but too devoted to hang out with us or anything. I really only knew her from Church. Then one day, she just… stopped coming in.

SAM:

That’s when she disappeared?

GIRL:

(Shaking her head)

No, this was way before that. She came in one day and said she’s found somewhere else she felt could cater to her differently, better.

SAM:

Huh?

GIRL:

Yeah, that was basically my reaction. She said, she was going to this recovery centre for people who died in the snap.

JACOB:

Yeah, she went on about the place, and it actually seemed like it was really helping her, at least for a while. Place always gave me the creeps, and the guy that runs it always gave me that gut feeling of… ‘wrong’, but she loved it. She was actually coming home from one of her meetings when she was taken.

SAM:

That’s not ominous at all… (He gestures to the posters) Did anyone else here go to these meetings?

There were murmurs of ‘yeah, actually’ from the other children

SAM:

Yeah, that’s very ominous. Anyone thought about going to the police?

JACOB:

Some of us have tried, myself included, but they won’t listen to us. They think we’re idiot kids. Frankly I’m shocked you’re listening.

SAM:

Well, you do seem quite knowledgeable about these people. Especially Lucy.

The group goes quiet and looks around cautiously.

JACOB:

Yeah. She’s my sister.

SAM’s eyes widen. After a moment, he finally speaks.

SAM:

I’m going to find who did this.

JACOB face is unreadable for a moment, then he half-smiles and clasps SAM on the shoulder.

JACOB:

Of course you are, man, you’re Captain America.

SAM:

You said this is a support group? Do you know where this place is?

JACOB:

(Nods)

It’s actually on my way home. I’ll show you. (Calling out) Amy!

AMY jogs over, collapsing next to him.

AMY:

What up?

JACOB:

I’m taking Sam to the snap centre. Can you make sure everyone else get home alright?

AMY shrugs but nods slowly.

AMY:

Sure.

JACOB:

Great, thanks.

JACOB stands and SAM follows. JACOB turns to his group and gestures for their attention.

JACOB:

(Sternly)

It’s 2am, everyone go home.

The group mumbles but slowly dispels. JACOB taps SAM arm and starts walking.

JACOB:

Come on, lets go.

SAM follows after.

SCENE CUTS and JACOB and SAM are pacing down a dark street. They come to a corner and JACOB stops suddenly, flattening himself to the wall. He quickly peeks around the corner and then moves back immediately.

JACOB:

It’s your lucky day, they’re there.

SAM:

Yay me.

(pause)

Can I see?

JACOB steps back and SAM moves past him to take a look around the corner.

There are two men standing out of the front of a lit-up building with a bright sign that reads ‘Snap Support Centre’, acting as guards. Each of them is armed with huge guns. Neither look friendly. SAM ducks back to JACOB.

SAM:

Those are some big guns for a therapy circle.

JACOB:

(nodding)

Yeah. Huge. There’s even more inside. And there’s a mounted machine gun on the roof.

JACOB points to the roof, where true to his words a machine gun is resting dormant.

SAM:

(In disbelief)

Holy crap, they mounted a machine gun on the roof.

The scene freeze-frames.

BUCKY:

(Voice-over, appalled)

You said there was no machine gun!

SAM:

(Voice-over)

I should have specified. They never SHOT me with the machine gun.

BUCKY:

(Voice-over)

That’s not better!

The scene resumes.

JACOB:

Perfect for skewering birds.

SAM glares at him over his shoulder.

SAM:

(Sarcastically)

You’re hysterical.

JACOB chuckles at his own joke, then returns to being serious. There is a pause as the camera pans in on SAM thinking, looking at the armed men at the door. Then, the scene freeze-frames.

BUCKY:

(Voice-over)

Go home Sam.

SAM:

(Voice-over)

Okay but-

BUCKY:

(Voice-over, sterner)

Go. Home. Sam.

SAM:

(Voice-over)

And in retrospect I totally should have but instead-

The scene resumes. SAM looks back at JACOB, determined.

SAM:

I’m going to confront them.

He starts to stand but Jacob grabs his arm and pulls him back, wide-eyed.

JACOB:

Are you crazy?!? I mean, of course you are but do you have a death wish?!? Seriously, those guys are terrifying and they are not hesitant to threaten you at a moment’s notice. Granted, I’ve never seen them shoot anyone, but I would NOT put it past them. Those guns are scary.

BUCKY:

(Voice-over)

Finally, someone with some common sense. I like this kid.

SAM:

I have guns too; you’re weren’t scared of me.

JACOB looks startled, looking SAM up and down.

JACOB:

Well I would have been if I knew you had guns!

A man rounds the opposite corner, heading towards the men with guns. He’s wearing a trench coat, likely concealing weapons. They salute him and he salutes back. They have a conversation SAM and JACOB can’t hear. JACOB sees him and flattens himself further into the wall.

SAM:

Calm down, It’s okay.

He gestures to the new man.

SAM: (Cont.)

Who’s the trench coat man?

JACOB:

That’s their leader. His name’s Father Adam but everyone calls him Father Ash. He’s weird, right? I get total weird vibes off of him, but all the adults think I’m crazy. To busy drooling over him or whatever.

SAM:

(Looking at FATHER ASH)

No, I’m definitely getting some weird vibes here.

JACOB:

(relieved)

Thank you!

SAM clasps JACOB on the shoulder reassuringly.

SAM:

I’m going in there-

He sees JACOB about to argue and quickly cuts him off.

SAM: (Cont.)

You can’t convince me otherwise, I’m a stubborn son-of-a-bitch. Thank you, Jacob, you’ve been very helpful. Now, go home and stay safe.

JACOB stays still for a second, before standing and nodding.

JACOB:

You’re crazy, man, please don’t die.

SAM:

(Jokingly)

If you insist.

JACOB half-smiles and nods before turning and walking away from SAM. Looking back over his shoulder as he leaves, crossing the street and finally disappearing down a side alley. SAM turns back around and stands, taking a deep breath before rounding the corner towards the Snap Centre. The three men notice him as soon as he rounds the corner, and the two guards reach for there weapons. FATHER ASH dismisses them and they relax slightly, still glaring at SAM warningly. FATHER ASH steps towards SAM, extending his arm, overly friendly.

FATHER ASH:

It is late, my friend! You must me something of a night owl!

SAM:

Yeah, something like that.

FATHER ASH:

Is there something that we can help you with? You shouldn’t be walking the streets alone, what with people disappearing left right and centre.

SAM:

That’s actually what I’m here about. I’m investigating what happened to them. Do you have any idea what’s going on? Or why it hasn’t been in the news?

FATHER ASH:

(Ignoring his question and mocking him)

And do you always dress up as Captain America when you investigate serious crimes?

SAM:

Actually I… (gives up) You know what, yes, yes I do. It makes me feel powerful. Nobody messes with Captain America. There, I’ve told you something about me, now you tell what you know.

FATHER ASH:

(sighs melodramatically)

Someone is targeting my flock. They’re good men and women just looking for some help after the Snap, they don’t deserve this.

SAM:

(waves his hands to stop him)

You aren’t answering my question. Do you know what happened to these people or not?

FATHER ASH:

Of course not. I’m always here at my centre.

SAM:

Except for today.

FATHER ASH:

Except for today.

SAM:

That’s convenient.

FATHER ASH glares at SAM, taking threatening steps forward until he’s nose-to-nose with SAM.

FATHER ASH:

Are you trying to insinuate I am somehow responsible for their disappearances?

SAM:

I’m not saying anything; I’m just looking around and this place drew a lot of attention from my sources.

The scene freeze-frames.

BUCKY:

(Voice-over)

Your sources are children, Sam.

SAM:

(Voice-over)

He didn’t know that! Shhh. Things are about to get interesting.

The scene resumes. For a moment, there is no movement, FATHER ASH and SAM silently facing off. Suddenly, FATHER ASH punches SAM square in the gut. SAM staggers backwards, gasping. The two men raise their guns and begin shooting, but SAM extends his wings and tears up into the sky, curving around and kicking one of the gunmen. The other gunman tackles him away and SAM stands in time to see FATHER ASH pull a pistol out of his coat. He shoots at SAM, most bullets missing. The first gunman grabs SAM from behind, pulling him into a headlock and suffocating him slowly. SAM futilely claws at his arm. The other gunman starts punching, first the face, then the stomach. As SAM begins to black out, FATHER ASH speaks.

FATHER ASH:

Stop! We’ll be seen! Leave him!

GUNMAN:

But sir, what if he dies on the pavement?

FATHER ASH:

Then he dies on the pavement. Not our damn problem.

The gunman holding SAM drops him and he falls onto the pavement, gasping. The two gunmen recede into the Snap centre, but FATHER ASH kneels down next to SAM.

FATHER ASH:

The missing are gone, blessed by my hand. You cannot stop this; it is the will of god.

FATHER ASH stands and moves inside the Snap Centre, disappearing from view. SAM groans, vision blurry.

SAM:

Dick.

SCENE CUTS back to the present. SAM gestures to himself.

SAM:

And that’s how I got here, like this.

BUCKY:

…How did you get home?

SAM:

I stayed there for a while, and then I dragged myself home. It was only like six block, it’s fine.

BUCKY looks at SAM, silent and motionless, and unreadable expression on his face.

SAM:

Um… James? You okay? Still with me, man?

BUCKY:

That was without question the stupidest, most crazy thing you have ever done and I’m going to go as far as I physically can out of my way to make sure that never ever happens again.

SAM sits up, looking BUCKY in the eye.

SAM:

(Unsure)

Are you saying you’re not letting me go out there anymore?

BUCKY:

No.

Bucky reaches under the couch and pulls out an AK-47. He turns it over and loads it, before cocking the weapon.

BUCKY (Cont.)

I’m saying I’m coming with you.

#marvel #MCU #Falcon #Winter soldier #Bucky #Bucky Barnes #marvel fanfiction #Marvel TV #Falcon and the winter soldier

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