#sure these were mostly flops but i learnt a lot also i had a time limit of an hour for all

[stealingpotatoes]

did a lil character request event in the DH server to try speedrun getting better at semirealism, here're the results!!!

(commission info // kofi)

[dameronology]

home {poe dameron x reader}

summary: poe made a promise to always come home, and it’s one he’s determined to keep

warnings: swearing, mentions of injuries 

more hurt/comfort fluff?? i almost sent myself off to sleep writing this bc of the ending and bc i am shattered. anyhoo, enjoy!

- jazz

p.s i skimmed this, but it has not been properly proof read haha oops pls bare with me, i will do it in the morning 

It had only been five days. 

You’d been apart from Poe for far longer than that; sometimes weeks, sometimes months. It was just part of being in the Resistance, and something you both knew you had to do, but it didn’t make it any easier. You must have had some pretty foul luck to have met the love of your life during a time in which the galaxy insisted on keeping you apart - but one look at the pilot, and all that faded away. He always made it home to you, no matter what. He’d made that promise to you pretty early in the relationship, and you knew it to be true. You could never doubt Poe. 

The Blue Squadron was due back to base at midday; the mission had been pretty secretive, so the comms lines had been shut most the time. Even after begging Leia to let you man the singular one that connected you to Poe, she’d refused, knowing it would only make things worst. The General only ever spoke from experience, and she had plenty in waiting around for cocky pilots. Whilst Poe was arguably a little less reckless than Han, she knew that you would both act as a distraction to one another’s work. You were equally important to the Resistance, and she couldn’t have you moping about on a commslink for hours a day. The joke was on her for that one, because you still moped, even when you weren’t trying to reach your guy. 

 ‘What time is it?’ You asked Finn. 

‘11.56.’ He glanced over at you, eyebrows raised. ‘So the same time as when you asked thirty seconds ago.’ 

‘I’m just anxious.’ You grumbled. ‘I’ve been so lonely the last five days.’

‘You mean the last five days that you’ve spent with me?’

‘Hey, it’s nothing personal!’ You nudged him in the ribs. ‘You miss him too.’

‘I do.’ Finn nodded. ‘We really are just a pair of simps.’

‘Friends who simp together, stay together.’ You grinned. ‘And if me and Poe ever break up, you have first dibs.’

‘Same for you, if Rey and I ever break up-’

‘- that would require you getting together in the first place.’ You reminded him. Finn could only scowl in response. 

‘I’m trying!’ He held his hands up in defense. ‘It’s just complicated.’

‘Nothing’s complicat - they’re here!’ 

You leapt off the crate you’d been sat on, sprinting across the hangar to where a fleet of X-Wings were grouping. Jess came in first, followed by Snap, and then Kare. Poe’s jet was the last to come in, which was unusual for him. He almost always lead the squad - aside from the time he’d managed to blow an engine and had to call you out to tow him back (it’s how you’d met, actually). Bar a few new dents and scratches, his jet looked to be in decent condition, with BB-8 whirring away from where he was perched in the back. You took that to be a good sign, even if he’d been the last to get in. 

A crowd of mechanics reached the fleet before you, tools in hand and ready to repair whatever damage the First Order had thrown at them. You gave Jess a smile and a high five as you passed, but your line of sight was dead set on finding the curly-haired pilot. You had to elbow your way through the crowd, heartbeat picking up as you did. Man, you’d missed him. The last few weeks had been rough for you both and being constantly pulled apart only made it worst. All you wanted to do was to see him, to hug him and-

- You hit Poe with a thud, chests colliding. He immediately wrapped you up in his arms, pulling you tightly against his chest and burying his head against yours. He smelt faintly of jet fuel and smoke, which was fitting. 

His lips were on yours the minute he’d let you go, hands tightly gripping your cheeks as he kissed you with all his might. Yeah, he’d missed you too.

‘Hey, baby.’ You couldn’t help but smile, eyes finally meeting - it didn’t last long though, not when you saw the state of his face. ‘Oh my god. Your eye! And your lip! And-’

‘- I missed you.’ Poe brushed it aside, pressing another exhausted kiss to your lips.   

‘I missed you too.’ You softly sighed. ‘The fuck happened to your face, though?’

‘Just...First Order stuff.’ He bit his lip, brown eyes falling to the floor. 

You sighed. ‘Shit, Poe.’ 

‘I know. He gently nodded. ‘I’m okay though. I’m here with you. That’s the important thing.’

‘You’re right.’ You agreed. ‘C’mon, I’ll take you to medical-’

He cut you off with a groan. ‘Let’s just go back to my room. Please?’ 

‘But your face.’ You gently ghosted a thumb across his bruised cheek, flinching when he shuddered slightly. ‘I mean...I have a first aid kit. I can always take a crack at it.’

‘That sounds a lot nicer than those nurse droids.’ He smiled. 

‘But you have to promise to get checked over tomorrow, okay?’

‘I promise.’

Poe flung his arm across your shoulders, pulling you into his side as you headed out the hangar. His own room was actually in the opposite direction, but he practically lived with you in yours. It always felt so much nicer. You’d managed to make it a lot homier, with photos of the two of you and fairy lights strung up. The scent of your perfume always lingered in the air and sleeping in your bed was the closest he could get to you when you were away on missions. In return, he left his jumpers and hoodies laying around for you to have free reign of. It was a weak form of paying rent, but he hadn’t heard any arguments. 

You could tell that Poe was tired from the way he walked. He usually had a swagger in his step, smiling at everyone who passed. Now, he was leaning on you for support, dark eyes staring dead ahead with exhaustion, his brain working at a thousand miles an hour to process what he’d witnessed over the last few days. You’d been on his mind the entire time.

‘Here we go.’ You gently lead him to the bed, helping him shrug off his charred flight suit. He caught your lips in a chaste kiss as you moved it off his shoulders, hands suddenly grabbing yours. 

‘You know I love you, right?’

‘Of course. I love you too.’ You murmured. ‘Is something up?’

Poe pulled you down onto the bed beside him, eyes finally meeting yours. ‘I just...I got captured on the mission. Very briefly, but still. It was scary, and there was a moment when I wasn’t sure I was gonna make it back.’

‘Poe.’ Your breath caught in your throat. ‘Is that why your face is all...’

‘Like this?’ He chuckled slightly. ‘Yeah. I’m sorry.’

‘Hey, don’t be.’ You squeezed his hands. ‘It’s not your fault, and like you said earlier, the important thing is that you here now.’

‘I know, but I promised you, didn’t I? That I’d always come home?’

‘And you did.’ You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. ‘Now c’mon, I gotta stitch you up before this scars.’

‘I reckon I’d look hot with a couple battle scars, y’know.’

‘You would, but I’d rather you not bleed out all over my sheets for the sake of vanity.’ You smiled. 

Digging out your first aid kit, you grabbed a few cotton swabs and some bacta spray. You weren’t a nurse, but your medical skills weren’t terrible either. After a few too many injuries and close calls out in the field, you’d learnt the basics. Half of the scars on Poe’s body had been from your handiwork after he’d been injured -- some of them were a little wonky, but he hadn’t died yet, so you figured you’d done a decent job. The ones he’d done for you were much neater but in your defense, he was reckless as fuck and had a ton more experience in dealing with injuries. 

On the bright side, Poe’s torso seemed fine and relatively uninjured. The white shirt he was wearing was only smeared with soot from the blaster fire, and his bare arms were broad and uninjured, save for one scrape on his left bicep. Okay, maybe the broad part wasn’t relevant to the context, but it was definitely relevant on the whole. He did have good arms. You only ever truly felt safe when they were wrapped around you.

‘This might sting a little bit.’ You crouched between his legs, pouring a little bit of bacta spray onto the cotton swab. You gently wiped it across his forehead, doing a double take when he let out a hiss of pain. ‘You okay, baby?’

‘Yeah, I’m good.’ Poe’s eyes met yours, and he gave you a half smile. ‘Better now that you’re here.’

It didn’t take too long to clean up the rest of his cuts and bruises; they were relatively minor given what he’d been through. The last time he’d been caught by the First Order on Jakku, he’d come home ten times worse than this. You’d spent days by his side in the medical room, mostly chiding him for how funny he looked in the bactasuit, but also to offer emotional support. The duality of love. 

You finished up by wrapping a bandage around the cut on his left arm, gently tying it in place with a safety pin. It was enough to keep it clean and safe until tomorrow, when you’d hopefully be able to convince him to see an actual nurse. You knew that for now, he was tired and probably just wanted to rest. His eyes were sunken with tiredness, and his body had become more and more slumped as you’d gone about cleaning him up. Poe never slept well on missions; a mixture of anxiety and your absence always made for a bad night’s sleep. 

‘That should keep you in one piece for now.’ You said, running a hand through his hair. Poe leant into your touch, pressing a kiss to your wrist. ‘You should get some sleep.’

‘Mmm.’ He murmured. ‘You’re staying, right?’

'Absolutely.’ You offered him a soft smile. ‘Gotta lose the boots though. These are clean sheets.’

‘Can you do it for me?’ He asked, flopping back against the mattress. 

You rolled your eyes at his...Poe-ness, before leaning down and unzipping his shoes, tossing them in a pile across the room. Yours joined them, followed by your jacket and the crumpled flight suit. That was something else to worry about tomorrow. For now, your main focus was him. 

Poe climbed under the covers, shuffling across to make room for you. He reached out to you as you joined him, naturally wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. The tiredness really hit him then, and you could feel his body untense as you pressed a kiss to his jaw. His body was warm against yours, which was a welcome contrast after sleeping alone for the last few nights. 

‘I love you.’ Poe murmured quietly. 

‘I love you too.’ You peered up at him with a smile. 

‘And I’ll always come home to you.’ He gave your shoulders a light squeeze. ‘You know that, right?’

‘I do.’

‘I’ll never break a promise to you.’

‘I know.’ You softly sighed, trying to move closer to him (as though it were even possible).

It was hard for him to fight the exhaustion now that he was laying with you -- after a few moments, his breathing became a little deeper, and his grip on you a little looser. You pressed one last kiss to his cheek, before settling back against his side and letting sleep over take you. 

[all-the-love-harold]

Fine Line

Chapter 2 - I don’t want to be alone

December 20th 2019

“Hey Bowie?” Clara said in her high pitched dog voice and watched as Bowie titled his head to listen to her “Do you want to wake up uncle Harry?”

Bowie jumped down off the bed and ran straight to Clara’s bedroom door waiting for her to open it.

“Ok let’s go big dog, go jump on uncle Harry!” she opened the door and let Bowie out to the living room where a very hungover Harry was snoring on the couch. Now the thing that Clara had learnt best about Bowie over the last few days was that he had absolutely no understanding of personal space so as soon as he saw Harry on the couch, he jumped up and Harry groaned as he landed on his belly.

“Noooo” he moaned “Too early”

“It’s 8am Harold” Clara chimed “Time to drive home for christmas”

Christmas was Clara's favorite time of year and as a result she unusually started preparing in october and she had a ready made playlist of christmas songs to play at any given moment. So she pulled her phone from the pocket of her hoodie and pressed play on “I’ll be home for Christmas” and turned it up as loud as she possibly could.

Harry rolled over and squeezed his eyes shut, “ 5 more minutes”

“Big night then?” she said, sitting herself down at the end of the couch where Harry’s legs were tucked up and Bowie crawled over to snuggle up to his new mum.

“Mmmhmm” he sighed “got back at 4 am”

`

“So I guess I’m driving then?”

“You’re amazing” he smiled, without opening his eyes again.

The morning was slow, Clara made Harry some eggs on toast and then found the biggest travel mug she could for his coffee and one that was only slightly smaller for her own. She packed Bowie's bag of toys and training treats and by the time they packed the car, double and triple checked that they had everything including the presents and the ingredients for the pudding that Clara was going to make, it was 10am and Harry was starting to feel a little more alive albeit a little tired.

“There are shops in holmes chapel Ra” Harry said as he shut the boot to the car “if it turns out that we’ve forgotten the custard I will go out and get it”

“Right let’s go then” clara smiled “and you can face Anne when there’s no custard because they’re sold out”

“I’ll make the fucking custard” he laughed as he pulled the door open and hopped in the car.

"Hi Bowie" he chimed as the dog who was sitting on the back seat of the car rested his head on the shoulder of the passenger seat "you're pretty cute little dude"

Clara's heart swelled, she had grown to love Bowie more than anything else and it was nice to see that she wasn't alone.

The journey was slow. Traffic was almost at a standstill on the highway that would take them out of London and into the countryside, but that was to be expected this close to christmas. Clara imagined what it would be like christmas eve and became very thankful that herself and Harry had the kinds of jobs they could take extra time off from.

“I’m dreaming of a white christmas” Harry sang, turning the stereo up as they came to a stand still once again

“Just like the ones I used to know” Clara sang, horribly out of tune

“Where the treetops glisten '' Harry giggled his way through the next few lines as Clara continued to sing out of time and tune.

“It’s a good thing you’re a lawyer” He said when the song ended

“You’re saying I couldn’t make it as a singer?” Clara said, pretending to sound offended

“On no, I think you’d be great” Harry laughed “With a lot of autotune and lip sync”

“I’ve learnt to lip sync your entire album, so I’ll take your next tour off your hands”

“Yeah great” Harry nodded “You do that, I’ll write the next album and you can tour that”

“We make a great team” Clara laughed “Too bad you look like a troll and you can’t tour for yourself”

Harry shrugged “Hey, I’m just keeping you in a job”

Clara laughed “Alright” she said steering the conversation in a more serious direction “Tell me about Shelly”

Harry shrugged and sighed at the same time, running his hands through his hair “there’s not much to say really, unless you want details about all the sex we’ve had”

“Nope” Clara said definitely “There’s got to be more to it than that H, she was at the show last night, I know you, you don’t invite your fuck buddies to things like that”

“She didn’t stay long though, did she?” Harry was blushing mostly because Clara was right, there was more to it than that, he just wasn’t ready to admit it to himself yet.

“No, I think she was gone before the end of the first song”

“Exactly” Harry nodded

“And you’re not just downplaying this because I’m sad and single now?”

“No” he shook his head “you never downplayed your happiness when I was sad and single”

“Fair pont” she said keep her eyes fixed on the road “Just be careful H, I only spoke to her for a minute so take what I say as a grain of salt, but she seemed like the type to collect trophies”

“What do you mean?” he asked

“Well you’re not exactly some unknown, undiscovered musician, gigging around London, sleeping with you gains serious bragging rights, she seems like the type to want them”

“I actually thought the opposite” he pondered, looking out the window and playing with his lips. A habit that he’s picked up over years

Clara’s heart sank, she hated that he couldn’t see what she and Gemma had thought was so obvious “Like I said, grain of salt, and if you’re happy, I’m happy, just be careful”

He smiled “Don’t tell Mum? Yeah”

“I’m not making any promises, Anne knows how to get me talking”

“Well I might just tell Jenny about …… “

“About what Styles? Jenny and I have no secrets”

He sighed “Maybe you should”

“So what kept you out until 4am if Shelly left the show so early?”Clara decided to turn the subject back around to Shelly so that he wouldn’t ask how she was feeling about the break up, because if she was honest, she didn’t know how she was feeling.

“Mostly stupidity” he rubbed his eyes “But I also went back to her place at about midnight”

“So you’re saying you slept on my couch right after you had sex with her?”

“Yep” he nodded

“Did you shower first?”

“Kinda” he smirked

“How do you “kinda”” Clara said using her hands to make air quotes “have a shower”

“Well we had sex in the shower”

Clara laughed “Of course. Oh God” she sighed dropping her head a little without taking her eyes off the road “I miss having a sex life”

“You’ve only been single for like a week” Harry said, trying to make her feel better without saying too much about Will

“Yeah but I haven’t had sex in months, I knew the break up was coming” she said honestly

“Well you certainly weren’t” Harry giggled tentatively

Claral laughed and playfully slapped his knee “Fuck you Styles”

He shrugged “You can if you want”

“Excuse me” Clara had to fight the urge to slam her foot on the breaks and avoid a collision the the motorway

“I’m joking Ra” Harry laughed, although he wasn’t entirely sure that he was. Somewhere in the back of his mind he’d always had the idea that he and Clara would end up together.

“Good” Clara giggled nervously “Because I know where that’s been” she gestured towards his crotch

“And I know where that’s been,” he said, doing the same movements towards her, a smile etched on his face so that she knew he was joking “and it’s looking a bit dusty”

Clara laughed “I won’t take this abuse” she said jokingly “Keep going and I’ll pull over right here and you can walk back to holmes chapel”

Harry reached out and turned the music back up to almost full volume

“It’s beginning to look a lot like christmas” he sang along with michael buble

“Everywhere you go” Clara joined in and that was that for the rest of the trip. They sang as loud as they could and laughed at each other singing out of tune. They made up stories about the cars passing by and spoke about just about anything, relishing in the time they got to spend together, enjoying each other's company because they knew that in just a few weeks, Harry would be off again, and they would be a part for most of the new year. Or so they thought.

***

December 25th, 2019.

It was 6am. It was still dark outside but Clara and Bowie were wide awake. Like little kids on christmas morning, they were excited. Well at least Clara was. Bowie just knew that he’d get some kibble as soon as Clara got out of bed. But Clara had so much to do this morning, she was responsible for christmas lunch this year and she hadn’t even made so much as a dessert. But christmas was here and there was no way that she was going to allow the day to be anything less than festive.

“Right then Bowie,” she yawned “let’s get this show on the road”

The dog lifted his head, looked at Clara as she spoke and flopped back down again when she was done, as if to tell her that it was far too early for an adult to be getting up on Christmas morning. And it was clearly too early for him to be having any breakfast.

Clara laughed and swung her legs out of the bed, “You can stay in bed if you then, but I will be cooking a chicken later, you might want to get up for that”

Bowie groaned and Clara laughed as she put on her dressing gown and walked out of the room. It was a cold morning, but the house was so well heated she would never have guessed that there was frost outside.

The thing about Christmas in Holmes Chapel was that it was full of chosen family. Clara and Harry’s parents had both split up when they were really little, Clara’s when she was four and Harry’s when he was seven and ever since then, their mums had banded together to make sure that christmas was as festive and magical as possible. And Harry and Clara had always wanted to carry on the tradition now that they were all grown up and usually only home for christmas.

Clara walked into the kitchen and switched the kettle on, still feeling a little sleepy, she didn’t turn the light on and walked straight into Harry, who was standing in front of the pantry.

“Morning” he said sounding as if he was still half asleep

“What are you doing up so early?” Clara questioned “And why are you just standing there”

“I just got off the phone with Shelly”

“Oh gross” Clara sighed “well could you move so I can get to the tea”

Harry took an over exaggerated step to the left “It wasn’t that kind of phone call”

“Why else would she be calling you before 6am on christmas day - you want one?” She held up a tea bag.

He nodded “To wish me a Merry Christmas” all of a sudden all of the colour drained from his face and he gulped before he could finish his sentence “and to tell me that she’s pregnant”

Clara paused as she reached for the kettle and looked up at Harry “She’s what now?”

“She’s having my baby” he huffed and threw his hands up in the air

“And how are we feeling about that? Clara stepped lightly, she didn’t want to say anything that might offend him right at this moment in time.

“Confused” he shrugged “I was so careful, I used condoms every time and she told me she was on the pill, I can’t be a dad right now, I’ll be on tour when it’s born”

“Did you tell her that?”

“Yeah” he nodded “she told me to cancel, she wants to keep it” he ran his hands through his hair “I don’t know what to do Ra? Tell me what to do?”

She gestured towards the bar stool that sat at the kitchen bench and put his cup of tea down next to him “do you want a baby?”

He sighed “I mean, yeah, one day, but fuck not right now”

“And more importantly” Clara looked at him sternly “Do you want one with Shelly?”

He took a sip of his tea “No” he said plainly

“Well there’s your answer”

“But she wants to keep it Ra, I can’t just ghost her now and it’s not like I’m not going to love the kid, but it’s just horrible timing”

“I think you need to talk to shelly in person”

“Yeah” he nodded “I do….” he paused “Can you come with me? Might be handy to have a family lawyer right there”

“Might be a bit intimidating right at the beginning H” Clara admitted “I’ll get you through the custody and child support battles if that’s what you want, but you need to sit down with her and get all your feelings out on the table first - and then if she doesn’t cooperate, call me and I’ll go full lawyer on her”

“Lawyer on who?” Anne said, walking into the kitchen wrapping her dressing gown tight around her to keep her body heat in.

“Oh no one” Harry smiled his charming smile “Merry Christmas Mum”

“Oh Merry Christmas my boy” she wrapped her arms around him “It’s so nice to have you home”

His head sank into Anne’s shoulder and suddenly everything didn’t seem so urgent or stressful

“Good to be here mum” he sighed happily

“Now Clara” she said pulling away from Harry “Merry Christmas Dear”

“Merry Christmas Anne” she smiled “Thanks for having us all in your house”

“Oh it’s no trouble, you’re doing most of the work love, I’ve just got spare rooms. Now,” she clapped her hands “How can I help?”

Clara smiled “You can’t, make yourself a cup of tea and relax Anne, you deserve it”

“Relax this year before you have a grandchild to dote on next year” Harry thought to himself before smiling at his mother and handing her a teabag, butterflies filling his stomach, the thought of being a father still sinking in.

“If you insist” Anne shrugged, “I’ll be in the living room if you need anything”

Harry waited until Anne was as far away as possible and then whispered “I think I have to go back to London tomorrow, talk to shelly”

Clara shook her head “No” she said “you need a few days to get your head around it all. Work out what you want and have a clear head when you talk to her”

“Breaking up with someone are we H?” Ben, Clara's brother said walking into the kitchen.

“No” he laughed nervously “One of the PR managers at my label is trying to get me to get caught by the paparazzi while I’m home” This wasn’t a lie. They’d been bugging him about that for a while now, but right now it was the least of his worries.

“Maybe your job isn’t as great as it looks” Ben shrugged “anyway, Merry Christmas” he smiled “What kind of feast are we having Ra?”

“Well you’re having a roast chicken and Harry and Gemma are having a nut roast”

“Sounds delicious, what can I do?”

“Nothing yet” Clara smiled wishing he would go away so she could finish her conversation with Harry “Go sit down and get warm by the fire, I can see the goosebumps on your arms”

Ben nodded and left the room, feeling a little awkward for not helping and Clara turned to Harry.

“You need to get your head around this pretty fast H, because if she’s already saying she’s going to keep it, I can almost guarantee you she won’t be changing her mind. And I know you, you won’t just be a child support dad, so when we get a chance after lunch has happened, we’re going for a walk, and were going to talk this through until you know what you really want from this”

Harry’s face had turned a ghostly white “Ok” he nodded

“And until then” clara smiled “I’m going to distract you, see those carrots over there?”

He nodded again

“Peel them” Clara said “and the boil them in that pot”

“I can do that” he sighed “But then what”

“Well then you can chop the nuts” Clara took a sip of her tea and tried to empty her head of the idea that Harry was going to be a father and work out where the hell she needed to start for this christmas lunch, which she had refused help with.

***

Holmes Chapel was really beautiful in winter. The trees glistened with frost that had never melted from that morning and paths looked like something straight out of a fairy tale. Harry and Clara had managed to escape their families for a little while, using Bowie as the perfect excuse to go for a walk in the cold. It had been almost eight hours since Shelly had told Harry that she’s pregnant but the information had barely sunken in.

“What are your thoughts H?” Clara asked after five minutes of walking in silence

“I don't have any” Harry admitted “I don’t want a baby right now Ra, but I’ve got one and I don’t know what to do”

Clara nodded, “I think the first thing you need to think about is what you want your relationship with Shelly to look like.”

“I don’t know” he said firmly “I really like her but this makes it very serious very fast”

“It does” Clara nodded “But I’m not sure you’re in a position to be picky about that right”

“I guess we’re better off working out that we don’t work together before the baby arrives”

“That’s one way to look at it…” Bowie spotted something and launched himself forward “Bowie” Clara said firmly “with me”

“Or it could work and I’d have a ready made happy family before I thought I would”

“Yeah” Clara sighed, little apprehensively, “This could be great for you”

“What do I do if it’s a disaster”

“You call me” Clara said “and we do everything we legally can to get the custody agreement that suits you”

“I’d want all of it” He admitted

“I know” Clara smiled “But I wanted you to say that, so that you’d realise that this is not such a disaster”

“I hate it when you do that” Harry smiled down at clara

“Do what?” she smirked

“Know what I’m thinking before I’m thinking it”

“Oh that” Clara blushed “I’ve been doing that since we were 5”

He nodded and sighed “I guess I’m going to be a dad next year then”

[pokeexehasstoppedworking]

Love Doesn’t Do Encores Ch17 Return To Hammerlocke

To say you hated flying anywhere now would be an understatement. YOU ABSOLUTELY POSITIVELY DETESTED IT!! The only reason you agreed was because it was already paid for and because it was the fastest way back to Hammerlocke. Woo hoo. You weren't really in the mood for more video game-..Uh. Strangers flirting with you, but at least Ms. Opal was nice company on the way there and it was very nice of her to pay for the entire ride over to Hammerlocke. You and Gloria buckled in on one side, with your Drizzilie and her on the other. When you all left Bellonlea you were a bit more cautious of your slow pace with her as you walked along the beautiful woods to leave, and kept snapping your head about keeping an eye out for any Team Yell members or that looney guy again. It was nerve wracking to say the least. Luckily you didn't run into neither when you finally got back to the lamp posts and the entrance into the forest. The corviknight and it's owner were fast asleep in one of the shadows of the trees before being woken up by Opal tapping him with her umbrella and requesting he take all of you to Hammerlocke. And after steeling your nerves and guts, you all piled in and did just that....for the next four and a half DAYS!! Opal had just relaxed back with her eyes closed most of the trip leaving you and Gloria to quietly talk between you two(when you weren't gripping your seat and forcing yourself to not look out the windows-) or more commonly watch more videos on her phone. Opal remaining silent and you would've sworn she was asleep if she hadn't opened her eyes whenever Gloria talked to her and talked back to you both in a polite but right to the point kinda way. Never heard anyone talk quite like her. You also made a few pitstops every few towns, mostly at night to let the driver rest and you have time to eat something at the local inn without having to worry about getting air sick for a while, before it was back to the fear inducing ride. You swore when you got back you were NEVER EVER going hang gliding, or even travel by plane after this. You also learnt within that time Opal was apparently looking for a successor to take over her gym soon and the person had to have something 'pink'...Whatever she meant by that. Eventually Gloria also found a good way to distract you away from your fear for short periods of time by the third day when she asked if there was anything you really liked listening too.

You blinked kinda surprised by her but shrugged and said, "Well, I've always loved music. In fact I wanted to go into the industry when I was your age."

She seemed surprised at your answer and even Opal cracked open a eye towards you silently. "Really? Why didn't ya ever say anythin' before?"

You shrugged with a slight frown. "Eeeeehhh. It's kinda...Complicated. I wouldn't say I'm bad but I'm not good enough of a singer for me to make a career out of it, and I can't really play any instruments too well. Unless you count the kazoo."

"What about a song writer? Bet you'd be good at that."

You shrugged. "I tried, but I'm not that creative enough to figure that out. But I am pretty good at working speakers, and I know a lot about how instruments are made and how they work. So I was going to get a business liscense and try to open by own Music Store."

"Well why didn't you?"

You paused at her question for a moment. You couldn't just say "Because I got sucked into an alternate dimension where pokemon happens to be real based off a game I used to play" unless you wanted them to think you were crazy!! Thinking quickly you shrugged and told the truth. "I left home around the time I was supposed to and started traveling." Which was the truth even tho you weren't sure exactly how you left or how to get back.

"Huh. Well I guess everyone wants ta see the world and do somethin' excitin'," Gloria said with a smile and you sighed in relief. Before she held up her phone to you. "If ya like music how 'bout I show ya more of Piers's songs? It'd be a good way ta pass the time. He's written n' sung LOTS of 'em."

You blinked....Piers?? OH! That Piers. "Oh. You mean the gym leader you told me about? I think I remember you showed me one of his songs back at Postwick."

She nodded. "He's a good musician. Ya wanna see some?"

"Sure why not?"

And thus the two of you relaxed back a little more now that you could watch this Piers person singing and mostly rock music filled the taxi cab for most of the remainder ride there. Of course you two made sure Ms. Opal was fine with it and after cracking an eye open said she didn't care at all. While you two watched him you had to admit his unique voice added to whatever vibe the music was with the accent he had melting among it....But when you looked at his blue eyes and pale-ish skin..you couldn't shake the feeling of deja vu that you've seen him before. Which you brushed off because of course you had seen him before when Gloria showed you a video of him performing with a band back at Postwick. Besides, you had more important things to worry about. Like getting home and right now getting to Hammerlocke in one piece. Which also happened the very next day. Gloria had pointed it out early in the morning when she looked out the window and pointed but you couldn't get yourself to look down in fear of losing your breakfast, clutching the seat tightly and praying the landing wouldn't be the same as the last time you landed. Luckily whoever was listening to your prayers answered them because other than one rough shove from the corviknight putting the cab on the ground, the decent and landing proceedure was pretty smooth. THANK GOODNESS!! When you finally peered out the window you were greeted with one of the entrances/exits to Hammerlocke. In fact it was the same one you two had traveled Route Six out of to head to Stow-on-Side. A Gym League staff worker awaited by the entrance, most likely for their badge rule too no doubt.

The taxi driver was quick to hop down and open the door for you three as well. "We're here ladies. Hope the trip was alright for you."

"Thank you, Young man," Opal commented slowly getting up and leaving the cab with you and Gloria right behind her. Once out she breathed a sigh of fresh air before looking up at the castle like town, "Hammerlocke. Always such a dusty town. Though I suppose some pokemon prefer it that way. "

Without even looking back to you she began slowly walking off towards the entrance, and you two slowly followed with Opal in front of you two. She was easily able to walk past the man who stood at the entrance but like the last time you were here, stopped Gloria, asked if she was a Gym Challenger, and then asked to see her badges. Opal continued walking as the two of you stopped and Gloria had to dig through her backpack to show the man her badge circle of five badges attached to it. With a nod you both were let in and she stuffed it back into her bag as you two continued off after Opal. And you looking around nervously keeping an eye out for Raihan just in case. ....But it seemed as Ms. Opal disappeared as you two walked along and looked around.

"Where did she go?," you asked peeking into the window of a cafe as you walked by but she wasn't in there. "She wasn't that far ahead of us."

Gloria shrugged as she looked at the people walking by. "She said she had some errands ta run so maybe she ducked into one o' these shops."

Hm. Maybe. You both continued walking and looking around as you neared the corner where the pink pokemon center you remembered seeing. As you two got closer and closer to the corner, someone with white fluffy hair and a giant pink coat rounding the other side of the corner onto the street on which you both walked. Both of you froze upon realizing the identity of the person who was walking towards the both of you. And he too froze lavender eyes blinking widely at the both of you as well as his jaw dropped somewhat. ...Before he pointed at you two with a large scowl.

"YOU!?"

"Uh...Hey, Bede," Gloria greeted with an awkward wave.

His scowl deepened as he shouted at her. "Come to gawk at me now that I've had my challenge band taken away and my gym challenger status revoked?!" ...WHAT!? Both your eyes widened as you looked at one another. Bede growling in frustration before gripping his fluffy white locks. "I've had to spend the past days working under that despicable Raihan person as 'punishment' for what happened in Stow-on-Side!! Do you know how much that idiot makes you work doing the most ridiculous things!? And now I run into you here too! Can you really afford to waste time like this?!"

"HEY!" Gloria scowled as well pointing a hand at him. "I was the one who saved your bloody sorry self from bein' crushed by a rock after you decided to play contruction worker with the mural! If it wasn't for me you'd be flatter than a waffle under yer own mess!!"

He scoff and turned his nose away. "Well....I suppose so. You no longer have to worry about catching up with me after all." His eyes narrowed at her. "I'll have you know though that I haven't given up! I must become the champion in order to help out the chairman! I will go and ask him to let me rejoin the gym challenge!"

"Again with the Chairman, mate?," Gloria sighed letting her arms flop to her sides as she turned from a scowl to a pitied look. "Look Bede. I dunno what to tell ya. It's kinda useless to keep wantin' ta help someone who kicked ya out of the challenge. Tho considerin' what ya did I'm not surprised that's what happened. Maybe ya should just forget 'bout the guy altogether."

He gasped offended a hand to his chest. "How dare you insult my reasonings with your twisted nonsense! Any girl who'd even consider fighting for my affection wouldn't be so brazen!"

"What are ye goin' on 'bout now?!"

"Hm? That boy." You jumped as the two kids still argued with one another, whirling around to face none other than Ms. Opal herself and she was staring right at Bede with curiousity in her eyes. ..Wait. Where the heck did she come from!? "Now that's what I could call pink! So sincere and straightforward yet so twisted and misguided. I like it! That's the kind of thing that gives people some depth!" Eventually Bede looked up from Gloria and had to do a double take blinking in confusion at the new arrival. "Time for my gym mission, Child!"

"HUH!?" Bede asked leaning back in confusion and surprise at what the older woman just barked at him. "W-Wha-!?"

You yelped as suddenly with speed you didn't think she had Opal RAN past you and up to Bede who froze in place wide eyed as she looked him over. "Pink! Pink! Pink!" She shouted as she examined him. ...What did 'Pink' even mean!? She chuckled a bit examining the frozen boy's dynamax band before looking up to him with a smile. "Congratulations, Child."

"M-Ms. Opal!?," Bede sputtered out pulling his hand away from her as he looked uneasy leaning away. Wait. Bede knew who she was? "What in the world has gotten in you?!"

"You were used by Oleana. Am I right?" Bede froze once again and behind her both of you exchanged bewildered looks behind them. Opal took his silence as a yes because she hummed and nodded. "You worked hard to gather wishing stars for her only to have her throw you away like rubbish once she was done with you." Wait...How did she know that? "Come with me, Child. I might be able to help you out." She offered.

And Bede ...blinked. "I...W-What?" He shook his head before frowning. "A-Are you saying you'd be able to get me reestablished back into the challenge?"

She chuckled and nodded. "Of course, it all depends on how much hard work you're willing to put in too."

"Are you...Are you testing me?," Bede challenged before clearing his throat and shaking his head, hands tucked into his pockets as he attempted to look calm. "Very well. I accept! In fact I plan on making sure you see my full talents and tell me everything you know about the wishing stars!"

She chuckled again before smiling wider. "I think my errands to Hammerlocke have been met." Taking a moment she turned to Gloria who blinked at her. "Farewell for now, Child. You should head to Circhester. I take it you know how to get to Route Seven." And she turned away back towards Route Six and simply began walking away. Like nothing that happened just happened.

Bede made to follow but paused before turning back to Gloria who still watched silently- Before clearing his throat and turning away again. "I-I still haven't decided what to say to you officially. I'll need more time to think and at the moment I-I'm way too busy! So d-don't follow me around!"

Gloria's brow rose more clearly confused. "Uh....Alright." You both watched as he jogged on after the older woman before she blinked and turned to you with a shrug. "What was that all about?"

......You smiled. "Oh nothing. I think they'll both be fine. I have a good feeling about this." You turned and nodded towards the train station. "C'mon. It's still morning so we'll have to wait for the afternoon train. If I remember right there's a food section in the train station. We can grab a bite there."

Gloria was quick to agree with the promise of food and you two headed off towards the station. To be honest you were looking forward to food too that wasn't bland or dried tasting camping food. You had eaten enough food like that to last you a hundred lifetimes. Without having to wait for Ms. Opal anymore the two of you could walk a little faster now and were easily near the station as you continued to look around for any signs of Raihan but thankfully still found none. When you were stopped by Gloria grabbing onto your sleeve and pointing. You blinked confused at her for a moment before looking to where she was pointing and you couldn't help but stare as well. NO WAY!! Who'd think you'd run into her again while you were here? It was Sonia! Again! She must've just walked from the station because she was coming right towards the both of you, but stopped once she took notice of the familiar sight. The three of you pausing and looking at one another before the redhead smiled and waved.

"Heya!," She greeted once she was close enough, "Fancy running into you here. The badge collecting going well?"

"Sonia!," Gloria happily exclaimed in surprise before nodding proudly. "I don't mean ta brag." She crossed her arms proud of herself. "But I won me two more badges since the last time I saw ya!"

Sonia chuckled at her antics and you asked, "What are you doing back in Hammerlocke?"

She turned her attention to you one hand on her hip. "I've been doing some research on the ruins in Stow-on-Side. The sword and shield. Once Mr. Rose had his team investigate it of course. ..But I still haven't figured out some things. What kind of Pokemon were they? And where are they now?" With a sigh she shook her head. "I still have so many questions. I was thinking about taking another look at the tapestries in-"

BOOM!! Sonia was cut off as what you could only describe as a gunshot from a gun the size of an elephant going off somewhere overhead. The very action made you react immediately by ducking and grabbing the back of your head as your Drizzilie dove behind you in terror at the loud noise and shaking of the ground. Gloria gasped and fell backwards onto her behind and Sonia had jumped back nearly falling over on those heels of hers. Blinking up and totally but understandably SHOCKED at the sensation you had just witnessed. Another boom!? AGAIN!? ....Oh NO!! Was that Bede again!? Was he doing something crazy again!? Other people around you yelling or having a similar reaction to one of you three.

"AGAIN!?," you asked to no one in particular.

"Are you kidding me!?," Sonia shouted herself glaring up towards a particular tower, "What was that!?"

"Do I look like I know?," you mumbled slowly leaning yourself up as Gloria made an attempt to get off the ground.

"Hammerlocke stadium shook...That's where Chairman Rose's power plant is isn't it?" You...nodded. You think so? It's been a while since you've been back here. But there wasn't any time for talking as a buzzing sound eminated from Sonia's pocket. She was quick to scramble, almost dropping the phone in the process, as she pressed the screen in a hurry and the buzzing noise ceased. .....Her blue eyes blinked widely at the screen. "Huh?....A..power spot?"

"Power spot?" You asked confused. "You mean like where you can Dynamax?"

She nodded not looking at you. "That's right. The power spot detector reacts when it's possible to dynamax."

You rose a brow. "Well that makes sense since there's a gym stadium here. You mean Raihan can't use the stadium's spot to dynamax?"

She went to answer but didn't get a chance too. "Usually you don't."

"GAH!!" You jumped in surprise and snapped your head around to the person who scared you...And came face to face with none other than the Champion. Leon chuckled seeing your expression...before you scowled. "HEY! I thought I asked you NOT to do that the last time!"

He chuckled some more before waving a hand. "Sorry, Y/n. Hey Sonia- Oof!" He laughed more and patted the top of Gloria's head as she hugged him beaming. "And you too, Gloria! Wow. You've gotten taller! By the way you felt the shaking right?" She nodded and he hummed before looking at the same tower Sonia had been. "Seems Chairman Rose is testing something again."

"This is bad!," Sonia insisted to him, "Pokemon might start dynamaxing right in the middle of Hammerlocke!"

"Is that so?," he asked looking back to her and she nodded immediately, "I can make sure the Chairman knows."

"You'll just get lost, Leon. I'm coming too."

"Hey. I'm not THAT bad with directions, Sonia. I only ended up on top of a barn once!"

"I'm comin' too!," Gloria piped up determined hands returning to her sides. But that melted away quickly when Leon shook his head no.

"Sorry, Glory," he apologised genuinely and rested a hand on her shoulder," But it'd be too dangerous for someone your age to be wondering about a power plant of all things. Especially since there's lots of research and development happening in there that could end up going south at a moment's notice. Don't worry about a thing and just let me take care of it. Ok?"

She opened her mouth to protest. "He's right." But blinked at you as you frowned worried. "I think with everything that's already happened in the past month, it'd be better to just let the literal pokemon champion and a scientist handle whatever's going on."

She blinked between the two of you for a moment before sighing. "Oh alright."

"So you should leave the investigation on the quaking to the adults," Sonia agreed, "In the mean time why don't you head to Circhester and get that badge? I'm really looking forward to seeing you compete in the finals."

Again Gloria nodded before turning to Leon with a slightly worried expression. "Hey. You're gonna be careful right?"

He smiled brightly in a reassuring way to her. "Of course! I'm always careful!"

"Except with directions." Sonia sighed before beginning to walk away.

"HEY! I'm always careful with directions," he insisted walking after her, "Since when am I not?"

"Says the one who got stranded on top of a barn and fell into the ocean multiple times when going to Hulbury."

"Oh my Arceus. It was just one time!"

You chuckled before shaking your head..but paused noticing Gloria wasn't doing anything but staring after them. She flinched when you put a hand on her shoulder. "Hey. Are you alright there?"

After a moment of silence she sighed and nodded before turning back towards the train station. "Yeah. Jus' a lil bit worried is all. Lee can get inta trouble if he ends up lost sometimes." And she began walking. "C'mon. Let's go get somethin' to eat. Ok?''

You blinked at her sad-ish tone but didn't push any further when you started walking behind her towards the train station by the flight of stairs leading to the Hammerlocke school where you two had encountered Paula. Sending a small shiver down your spine as you passed. Eventually you both reached the inside of the train station where you two found exactly what you were looking for. Within the train station was two men and a woman behind stands who looked like they either sold tickets or pamplets, a lot of seats, the exit for entering/exiting the train, some ATM things, vending machines, and to the very left near the entrance when you two came in was the small cafe area with it's own designated seating. A man was already seated at one table looking at what you supposed was a menu, and two very recognizable teenage boys were sat at another talking....HOP AND VICTOR!? Seriously what was the odds of running into so many people today? You tapped Gloria's shoulder to get her attention but Hop beat you too it because as soon as he looked up he smiled and waved his full arm at her.

"Oh! Gloria!," He shouted at her. Like a dog to food her head snapped to him faster than lightning before the brightest smile ever lit up onto her face as Victor turned around in his seat to look at the both of you.

"HOP! Victor!," She cried out before rushing towards them with you trailing behind with your pokemon in tow. "I haven't seen ya in days!"

"Well we- Ah!" Poor Hop was nearly knocked to the floor when Gloria practically tackled him in a hug (again-) and had to wave his arms to regain balance before leaning forward luckily not falling over. "W-We just got here on the afternoon train! Glory! You're crushin' me again!"

"After noon?", you asked before looking up towards the clock on the wall surprised when you saw it read 12: 24 in the afternoon. "Huh. I didn't think we'd get here that late in the day." You then turned back to Victor. "You guys just got back here? We didn't see you at the gyms we stopped by."

Victor shrugged back at you. "We went straight to Bellonlea after Hop won against Bea," He explained, "Then we traveled a bit so Hop could practice his battling skills before we decided to head to Circhester. Hammerlocke was just a stop before we reached there so we stopped here to restock for the weather they have up there. ...And I wanted to stop by to see the Hammerlocke castle ruins on Route Eight. Legends say that they might even be the remains of the very first castle built in Galar."

"Oh. So how was Bellonlea for you two?"

Hop sighed, having freed himself from his best friend's crushing hug, slumping his shoulders. "First that forest then that mad quiz. I've been lost in every sense of the word...But it looks like I finally caught up to you again."

"Does that mean you didn't get the badge?"

He chuckled. "Took me one heck of a try but I managed somehow to get it from her." He turned back to Gloria. "Speaking of which. Come with me to Route Seven real quick.I could use a bit of competition to motivate me for the next leg of our adventure!"

Gloria blinked. "....Our adventure as in yours and Victor's next stop?"

Hop blinked at her a moment before reaching to scratch the back of his neck and looked away. "W-Well...I uh....I've been having a lot of time to think, and i-it would be nice for you to join us again this time....AH! A-And Y/n too of course!" He was quick to add holding up his hands and a slight pink hue coming over his face. "Of course I enjoy her company too! I-It's not the same without y-you both!" Smooth, Hop. Very smooth.

But it seemed like just like with Bede, Hop's flustered state flew right over her head as her eyes lit up as she quickly agreed. "Are ya kiddin' me!? OF COURSE YES!! I missed travelin' with you guys!" She pointed to the door making Victor duck to avoid getting hit in the head. "C'mon let's go see 'bout that battle!"

"Hang on a second!," Victor interjected with a frown, "What about lunch? Hop, y'know we need to stop by the clothes store and get warmer clothes!"

"..I-...Y-Yeah. But we're staying an extra one or two days so you can see those ruins anyways, so we still have time for a battle and food and shopping..and all that stuff."

......With a sigh Victor sat back down in the seat and picked up his menu again. "Fine. But make it quick. I would like us to get supplies before the end of today. The sooner we're all stocked up the sooner we can see the ruins and head off to Circhester."

Gloria was already tugging him out the door as Hop waved him off. "We'll be right back! Don't worry!"

"That's when I worry the most," he mumbled.

You chuckled before going to sit in one of the chairs across from him, Drizzilie hoping onto your lap of course before settling down and letting you wrap an arm around it's upper torso to hold it. "Well, you two certainly looked like you had an exciting time while we were gone."

"Yeah I guess you could say that. ..Hey. Let's just order something for the two of us while we wait." Your Drizzilie gave a thrum. "Uh...Three of us. The three of us order."

"Are you sure? I don't mind waiting for the other two."

"Nah. I'm hungry, and we'll still be here when they come back."

"Well...Alright then.''

You two went ahead and ordered, not really surprising it was more curries, and it wasn't too long before the three plates were set down in front of you three all different. Your drizzilie immediately went to grab at it's saled curry you had ordered for it, but Victor stopped it before pulling out his own camera.

"Wait a minute. Lemme get a shot of these first," he said holding the camera up to his face.

"You're doing that curry dex thing too?," you asked holding your Drizzilie's protesting hands as it pouted being denied it's food even for a moment.

"Nah. I've just been collecting more pictures of curries and pokemon for Glory since she needs them. Plus I like taking pictures anyways, so it's not a big deal."

"Aw. That's really nice of you."

He was quick to take a few pictures of the curries and you released your pokemon's hands. Drizzilie was quick to grab it's own food and begin scarfing it down much to your amusement as you two yourselves dug in. You were happy that it wasn't another bland tasting granola bar thing or dried fruit snack made for traveling. And it wasn't too long when you were into your food that the two had returned and taken seats next to the two of you as well.

"Hey you two," you greeted, "Welcome back. How was the battle?"

Hop was absolutely beaming and Gloria sighed but not in a sad way before saying, "I lost. Hop really has gotten stronger!"

"Hey, congrats!," you smiled at Hop, "I told you you could do it!"

"Hehe. Thanks," he smiled bashfully before pointing towards the food, "Looks like we're just in time to order ourselves huh? Great! We can catch up with everything that happened then!"

Gloria chuckled. "Well then better get a big curry n' some popcorn! Cuz I gotta lot to tell the both 'o ye!"

"Oh boy. Here we go."

You should've expected the shocked faces that they all gave when Gloria between eating her curry(after taking pictures of them of course-) told them everything. And I do mean EVERYTHING. From helping the lad find an applin for his crush, to the strange MAYBE ghost girl that had you all deliver a letter to Mr. Frank, to the weird guy in Bellonlea who thought he was a pokemon, to how you both met Allister, to her gym battles, and of course everything the two of you went through in Stow-on-Side after they left. The two boys looked more shocked than they would've been if you had suddenly disappeared before their very eyes back the way you came and magically ended up back home. You just simply ate letting Gloria ramble on and on and tried to keep your drizzilie was getting food everywhere. You swore it was like trying to feed a toddler in your lap. Eventually sometime between all of this Hop finally spoke with a scowl pointing at everyone.

"I KNEW it! I knew that bloke was up to no good! And look at what happened!"

"Hop, calm down," you insisted holding up a hand, "To be honest I think he only did it because he was pressured by someone and did what he thought was going to help. I don't know why he thought there would be wishing stars under the mural, but he was right about there being something under there. ...And I really don't want to just talk badly of him since he already paid for what he did." You did feel bad for him but in the back of your mind you knew he'd be fine and get back on the right path now. "...But I think Victor said something about stopping by a clothes store. What for?"

"You'll need some too, Y/n," Victor said, "If you don't wanna freeze your leg off that is. Circhester and it's gyms are located in the mountains where it's always cold and snowy. If we're heading there we'll all need to stock up on food for the long trip too since they're the farthest gyms from here."

"Oh. Well I say we finish up here so we can get started then. I don't know how when the stores around here close."

The rest of the stay in Hammerlocke wasn't very eventful thankfully. After the lot of you had finished eating and paid, you left and you followed them all to the clothing store that Hammerlocke had. You weren't expecting them to actually be selling winter clothes but low and behold they were selling them amongst the regular summer shirts and shorts. All of your pants and shirts was pretty long and warm anyways so you only felt the need to find a plain coat and gloves as the others took their time browsing around and tried on various other winter type clothing. But you did find one thing you liked. A small child's sweater that doubled as a hoodie with the hood attached to it. You looked between it and the Drizzilie before taking it and after wrangling your pokemon lightly, slipped it over his head and popped his arms gently through the sleeves. Drizzilie gave a couple chirps in protest and confusion as he was slipped into the sweater-hoodie...before blinking and pulling out the hem of it to look over it. ..And looked at you with a strange look.

"Hey. If you're not going to stay in your pokeball then you're going to need something to keep you warm too."

You were pretty sure a water pokemon without any feathers or fur to cover him wouldn't fair too well in the cold weather. By the time you all paid for the small pile of winter clothes for the five of you and left the store, the sun was close to setting and with your low food supplies without there being any supply stores in Hammerlocke Victor was clever enough to come up with a better idea. Leading the confused group back to the train station, he walked on over to the vending machines in the corner of the room and considering everything in them was already made to last a long time they'd do until you all found another store with better surprises. Sounded good to you...Or it would've been if Gloria hadn't had the bright idea to use her Rotom pokemon. You couldn't believe it but the rotom pokemon actually transferred itself from the phone into one of the machines and one after another cans of soda, chips, instant noodle things, candy bars, and other snack like foods tumbled down one after the other with the lot of you eagerly grabbing at it. When you pointed out wasn't this technically stealing, Gloria assured you the rotom would be using money coming from her Gym Challenger account to pay for this all. Oh...Well you kinda guessed she'd have one of those to be paid after battles and all. By the end of one vending machine being cleaned out Victor mentioned once it was divided between the four of you it SHOULD be enough to at least last you all the trip up to Circhester. That was good to hear. By the time the four of you were finished with your shopping spree, sun set had finally taken a hold of the town and Hop suggested now would probably be a good time to set up came outside Hammerlocke and rest up to take a visit to the ruins Victor wanted to visit the next day. As much as you'd like to go to Circhester right away it was unanimous that the next day you'd be spending your entire day at the ruins.

That night you slept pretty well and by the time you woke up the next day Victor had already cooked everyone breakfast early. By the smile on his face, you'd say he was pretty excited to spend the day at the ruins. After eating breakfast and packing everything up, the four of you made your way down Route Eight. The castle ruins weren't too far down the road from Hammerlocke, just maybe an hour or two's walk. There was some blocked off areas by rope blocking access to some of the more brittle or dangerous areas of the place. And you did enjoy yourself while you looked around too. There was a couple pokemon you hadn't seen while you were traveling before and both twins seemed to get a kick out of taking pictures of either the ruins or the pokemon hiding within them, as you all walked around along with a few other people who seemed to be looking at them as well. The only ones who really seemed bored just standing around and looking at the ruins was your Drizzilie still wearing the sweater hoodie thing you had gotten him yesterday as he grumbled and walked along after you. The ruins were pretty big and decently had a lot to look at so it was no wonder the four of you spent nearly all morning and half the afternoon there looking at it all before Hop suggested heading back towards Hammerlocke in hopes of catching the night train out of town. Sounded good to everyone..Huh. You wondered if Sonia had studied the ruins here for more clues too? It wasn't too late when the group got back to Hammerlocke, maybe three or four o' clock in the afternoon at the lastest, but definately late enough to have missed the evening train out. Of course Hop and Gloria having to show their badges to the man standing guard at the entrance in order to be let in but it wasn't too much of a hassle for you five to head on in and back to the train station. In the entire time you were back here in Hammerlocke you hadn't seen Raihan again even once. You guessed he must've been traveling again or just not here at the moment. Fine by you. You all had a few hours to kill until the night train showed up sometime around eight o' clock. In the next few hours you all busied yourselves by having dinner courtesy of the guys and Victor giving a very happy glory all the pictures he had taken over the days they were seperated. A LOT of curry (when did they eat so much of that stuff-) and pokemon she was delighted to have and then secure into her books along with the newest pictures she took with help from Hop sorting them out and helping to place them within the labeled pages. Which took up most of the rest of the time it took you four to wait for the night train because it took you all by surprise when the sounds of rumbling tracks and a train horn made you all look up as a shiny subway like train pulled up into the station.

"Ah magikarp!," Gloria shouted before dropping her fork and then scrambling to pick up her thing played on the table. "Hop! Help me stuff these things back inta me bag!!"

Hop blinked but immediately did as his friend asked as he too scrambled to grab any leftover pictures and the two books to throw them back in her bag as Victor quickly dug into his pockets for something. Luckily you didn't have the need to pick anything up or collect anything other than the drizzilie sitting in your lap that you scooped up into your arms when the others scrambled to get up, and Victor tossed what looked like a two dollar tip on the table for whoever had to come collect the dishes. The horn blasting again for any passengers who wished to leave Hammerlocke, which you four sure did heading towards it. Looks like you all would be heading to Circhester and hopefully Gloria's next badge on the way.

[gumnut-logic]

Chuckles (Part Two)

Part 1 - 2035 | Part Two - 2036

This is the next chapter of my @tagsecretsanta​ fic for @angelofbenignmalevolence​ There is more to come....lots more (though most of it isn’t written yet). Many thanks to @scribbles97​ and @tsarinatorment​ for the reading and support ::hugs::

Warnings: None other than wee!Tracys :D

I hope you enjoy it :D

-o-o-o-

2036

Christmas in the Tracy household was a big family affair. The house itself was a big one. Big enough to house extended family and the bustle and noise that involved.

Scott loved it. Loved everyone being together, the hugs, the jokes, the fact that Uncle Lee always called him ‘Little Jeff’ and told the best stories about planes and rockets. Aunt Val always brought the best Christmas cookies with various aircraft drawn on them with icing. Grandma Taylor had different coloured hair every year and this year was bright blue and included glitter. Grandpa Taylor invented toys for a living so he was always welcome. Though Virgil tended to hoard his attention and Scott wasn’t really sure why because Virgil pulled apart everything Grandpa Taylor gave him anyway.

But the best part of Christmas this year was that Daddy was home.

Daddy spent a lot of time away. Scott understood why, but that didn’t stop him from missing him. Dad had stories much like Uncle Lee and often they starred in each other’s tales, but there was something about his father that Scott just looked up to even more.

It didn’t hurt that Uncle Lee made a point of placing Scott’s father in the spotlight in all his stories.

Dad was an amazing person. A hero.

Dad was also very tall and strong and always had the answers Scott needed. While Mom looked after him and his two little brothers and he loved her very much, Dad was…Dad.

And Scott wanted more than anything to grow up and be just like him.

It certainly didn’t hurt that his father had the same colour hair and everyone said Scott looked a lot like him. Scott bore those comments proudly and made a point of doing his best to emulate what his father might do in any situation.

Scott was going to grow up, join the Air Force and do his father proud.

A clatter in the hallway and Virgil barrelled into the room. Uncle Lee, who had been retelling the Mars landing, stopped mid-word and frowned.

His biggest little brother’s eyes widened as he skidded to a halt and straightened himself up. “Uh, excuse me, Uncle Lee.” A blink, and he looked fit to burst. “Could I please speak to Scott?”

“Sure….squirt.”

That caused Virgil to frown. Scott thought it was funny. Uncle Lee never seemed to be able to remember Virgil’s name.

And besides, Virgil had a thing about being smaller than Scott and didn’t like it being pointed out.

However, Virgil hurried over anyway. “Scotty, can I borrow Chuckles?”

Blink “His name’s not ‘Chuckles’, it’s Chuck.”

“Oh, okay.” Virgil bit his lip. “But can I anyway?”

“Why?”

“Johnny won’t leave me alone.”

“He’ll eat his goggles.”

“Better than him eating my nuts.”

Uncle Lee made an odd sound that dissolved into a cough when Scott and Virgil looked at him.

Scott sighed. “Virgil, it’s Christmas. We’re supposed to share.”

Virgil dragged Scott part way across the room, away from Uncle Lee and lowered his voice.

“I tried, but the kit contains small bits. Mom said Johnny wasn’t allowed to play with small things. She said he was too young.” It was almost hissed under Virgil’s breath. “I don’t want him to get hurt or to get into trouble. Chuckles always distracts him.”

His name wasn’t ‘Chuckles’, it was ‘Chuck’ after Chuck Yeager, the first pilot to break the sound barrier. But Virgil had called the bear ‘Chuckles’ once as a joke, Johnny had picked it up and now it was all about Chuckles. It was annoying.

“Well, give him the nuts and tell him to go eat them somewhere else.”

Virgil stared at him aghast, but then his eyes widened. “Nuts. As in ‘nuts and bolts’, Scott! I’m building the robot Grandpa Taylor brought me. Johnny keeps trying to eat bits of metal.”

Oh.

Uncle Taylor had picked up his tablet, but was now staring at them, a question on his face. “You boys okay?”

Scott nodded. “Yes, Uncle Lee. Virgil just needs some help with his kit. I’ll be back in a moment.”

Blue eyes gauged him, but Scott was more worried about his littlest brother and dragged Virgil out the door.

“Where is Johnny?”

“On the floor outside my room.”

“You didn’t leave the door open, did you?”

“No.”

Scott hurried down the hall. “Why didn’t you call Mom?”

“I tried. Mom is talking to Aunt Val and she sounded sad. I didn’t want to interrupt and I didn’t want Johnny to get into trouble. Chuckles will fix it.”

“His name is not Chuckles!”

Scott rounded the corner and to his horror, Virgil’s door was wide open.

He didn’t bother to acknowledge Virgil’s gasp of horror, but instead barrelled on through the door terrified he would find his little brother choking on the floor.

But Virgil’s desk was empty except for the scattered pieces of his project. A quick glance around the room and Scott quickly found Johnny.

He was no more than a tuft of red hair wrapped around Scott’s pilot bear, half buried in Virgil’s bed covers.

Two wide eyes popped up over the top of those goggles. “Scotty!”

Scott hurried over to the bed. “Johnny, are you okay?”

“Chuckles!” Johnny held up the bear and grinned.

Scott sighed and sat down on the bed next to his littlest brother. His heart was beating fast - he had been so scared.

Virgil stood in the centre of his room staring at Johnny, his lip trembling. It was obvious he realised what could have happened when he left to get help.

Tears welled in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Scotty. I thought he couldn’t get in. I didn’t want him to get hurt.”

“Virg, he’s okay.” The fright in Virgil’s eyes had the eldest hurrying off the bed from one brother to another. “C’mon, Johnny’s fine. He went and got Chuckles, didn’t you, Johnny?”

The three-year-old’s eyes peered up at Virgil registering his distress and soaking it in like a sponge. His grin vanished and his brow crumpled. “Virgil?” Johnny clambered out of the bed and scampered over to his next eldest brother. “Chuckles? Chuckles make it better?” He offered Virgil the bear.

Virgil stared at Chuckles for a moment before reaching out and taking the fluffy toy. He poked at it gently before hugging it to his chest.

John threw himself at his brother with a huge hug almost knocking Virgil over. Scott reached out and steadied him before adding his own arm to the mix and hugging both his brothers at once. “It’s okay. We’re okay.”

Scott had to scrub snot off Chuckles’ ear later that night.

-o-o-o-

Christmas Eve was family relaxing time before the busy of the next day. Mom, who had been in the kitchen with Onaha since just after breakfast, called a halt to everything at six in the evening and they sat down for a light buffet of a meal. Every family member donated time or a dish which was mostly warm finger foods like pie and things on sticks.

Scott always looked forward to dessert on Christmas Eve because there were all sorts of interesting things to be had. Aunt Val’s Christmas cookies was one of them.

He stood staring at the different planes so artistically drawn on each of them. They were good enough to be recognisable and none of that generic kiddy stuff kids’ books tried to throw at him. Some were historical, some more modern.

“Trying to decide which plane to eat this year, honey?” Grandma Tracy crept up behind him and wrapped her arms around him. Her long blonde hair flopped over his shoulder as she leant in to kiss him on the cheek. “Merry Christmas, Scotty.”

“Merry Christmas, Grandma.” But he was still frowning at the cookies. “I can’t see Dad’s plane.”

“Your dad has flown several of those.”

“Yeah, but I want the Sparrowhawk Anderson ZX3.”

Grandma snorted. “Then you’ll have to chase up your father. I saw him nab it earlier.”

Scott turned to his grandmother. “Really?”

“Really.” And it was his father’s deep, smiling voice as Scott was suddenly scooped up in strong laughing arms. “C’mon, ‘Little Jeff’, I’ve saved you your favourite cookie.”

Scott giggled and squirmed, but ultimately clung to his dad, resting his head on his shoulder for just a moment as he was carried across the room to his father’s chair and plomped down on his lap as the man sat down. The longed-for cookie was produced and Scott grabbed it. “Thanks, Dad.”

A big hand on his back, another on his knee, Scott was held close.

“So, what have you and your brothers been up to this week?”

Scott stared at the cookie with the grey, blue and red jet iced on top. “Virgil, did a good drawing of a plane. He didn’t get the tail quite right, but I helped him with that. Johnny learnt some new words.” He couldn’t hold back any longer and bit into the cookie.

It was the best.

Dad snorted. “I heard. I suspected it was you who taught Johnny to say ‘extra-orbital’.”

Scott grinned, his mouth full of biscuit crumbs.

“Swallow before you talk, son.” But his father was smirking.

Scott downed the remains of the cookie, caught between enjoying it and the opportunity to sit and talk with his dad. “He knows all the planets, too.”

“Really?” His father frowned. “He’s only three years old, Scotty.”

Scott sat a bit straighter. I taught him all the names and showed him Mars where you and Uncle Lee went.”

The smile that appeared on his dad’s face only encouraged him. “Virgil drew him pictures of each of them and we stuck them on the wall in his room.”

“That was very kind of the two of you.”

“It made Johnny happy.” Scott didn’t want to mention that Johnny was sometimes sad and always serious. “I want to help him.”

“It sounds like you are doing an excellent job.”

“I’m the eldest.” And Scott knew what Dad was going to say.

“Yes, you are, and that means you have to look after your little brothers. They look up to you and they are your responsibility.”

Scott stared up at those serious grey eyes and for just a second Dad looked like Johnny. “Yes, Dad. I will, I promise.”

His father’s big hand patted his back. “I know you will.”

Scott smiled.

-o-o-o-

End Part Two

[jwillowwolf]

Magic and Miracles - Chapter 2

Sanders Sides Big Bang fic, Chapter 2!

< Previous Chapter | Next Chapter > | Masterlist

Summary: “Did you really teach yourself magic?”

“Yes. I learnt from whatever books it could find on the subject.”

Janus nodded. “Impressive."

Warning/s: food mention, fantasy racism.

Characters: Logan, Remy, OC, Virgil, Roman, Remus, Patton, Janus.

Tag List: @theimprobabledreamersworld @remy-please-come-back

Read on AO3

2 | Getting to Know You

Logan followed the group just barely as he found himself constantly distracted by his surroundings. The paintings, tapestries, vases, and statues, there seemed to be nearly no blank spaces anywhere, yet it didn’t feel cluttered at all. Everything was remarkable and expensive looking. And eye-catching.

In fact, he didn’t notice when the group had stopped moving and walked right into Virgil, which caused him to stumble backwards. Thankfully, Virgil caught him before he fell onto his butt.

“Careful where you’re walking, Lo. you don’t want to end up walking into a door,” Remy remarked from the front of the group.

Logan blushed. “Sorry.”

Virgil just helped him to his feet and nodded.

“Okay, now please pay attention. This hall has all your rooms and this one,” Remy pointed to the first door on the right. “Is mine. They’re all identical and I couldn't be bothered to assign them to you, so take your pick. Everyone has an hour to get settled then we meet back here in the hall for a tour. Good? Good. Farewell.”

And with that, he retreated into his room. Roman chose the room beside Remy’s and Remus took the one beside him, then Patton took the last room on the right side. Virgil took the first room on the left, which left Janus, Logan, and Willow in the hallway.

“Um, thanks, for earlier. With explaining the last-names thing,” Willow said.

Logan nodded. “It was no problem.”

“You would be surprised how many people find it problematic to understand non-humans,” Janus remarked.

“Well, I have no such prejudices. Also, thank you for calling out Roman’s behaviour.”

“Of course. I can’t stand elves who believe themselves higher than everyone.”

“You can’t stand elves in general,” Willow muttered.

“And for good reason. Have you seen Roman?”

Willow winced. “Remus was nice… kind of.”

“She called you a dog.”

“It’s a common mistake.”

“You’re too forgiving.”

Willow rolled her eyes and turned to Logan. “They’re such a hypocrite.”

Janus huffed. “I’m right here.”

“You’re being mean though, so I’m ignoring you.”

Janus rolled their eyes then also turned their attention to Logan. “Did you really teach yourself magic?”

“Yes. I learnt from whatever books it could find on the subject.”

Janus nodded. “Impressive. How did you manage to find a tome that explained pronunciation?”

“I didn’t. I sort of figured that part out from watching the testing ceremonies.”

“In that case, why not replicate the simple performances other mages made beforehand? It’s not against any rules to do the same spell sequence as someone else.”

“I didn’t want to waste the opportunity. Perhaps it was a bit… over the top to do the spell I did, but I managed to leave an impression.”

Janus smirked. “I suppose that’s a good reason. Anyway, it looks like we’re the last to pick rooms. I’m taking the one on the end, see you both later.”

With that, the trio split up into their rooms. Janus taking the one at the end on the left, and Willow leaving the choice between the two doors between Janus and Virgil’s rooms for Logan to choose between. He chose the one next to Virgil’s, allowing Willow to have the room closer to Janus.

Inside the room, there was a queen-sized bed with four tall wooden posts that suspended a silky blue canopy. There was a dresser, a wardrobe, a writing desk, and a half-empty bookshelf. The books didn’t seem to be anything special. Logan’s bag was already on his bed. He only now realised that he’d left it in the carriage. One of the staff members must have brought it here. Thank goodness they brought it to the right room.

Wait, that was his bag, right?

He double-checked the contents and sighed in relief that it was indeed his bag. After that slight scare, he began unpacking his things and sorting the room just how he wanted it. He was delighted to find some fresh blank papers on the writing desk and a few sharp pencils too.

Forty-five minutes later, everything was organised just the way that Logan wanted and he was… bored out of his mind. He flopped down onto the bed and was distracted for a few moments by how incredibly soft it was. After that novelty wore off though, he found himself bored again and stared up at the blue canopy.

His mind once again thought of how frightening this was. He was truly out of his depth with the complexities and splendour of high society. Perhaps there are some books he can find on the subject to help him. ‘How To Fit In With The Upper Class’

He got up from bed to check if there was such a book, or at least something similar, on the shelf. To his dismay, there seemed to only be fictional novels and a dictionary. He’d need to ask Everleigh about looking out for something at the library. Was there a library here? Remy said that they’d have a tour later so he supposed he’d find out then. Wait, when was that tour?

He checked the clock and noticed that… barely three minutes had passed since he went to lie on the bed. Darn it, there were still at least ten minutes to kill before the tour.

He could have read the fiction novels, but honestly, none of the summaries seemed very appealing. He wondered if he could write something but he didn’t have anything to write. Trying to take a nap was pointless so he found himself just sitting on his windowsill.

The view was rather breathtaking actually. Below there was an array of cobblestone paths, lined with green shrubbery, some of which were dotted with white, pink, and purple buds. There was a hedge in front of the iron fence that lined the property, and beyond that was the dark spruce forest that grew high and looked thick and full of secrets.

Logan wondered briefly what secrets really were hidden there in the forest. Creatures? Monsters? Come to think of it, what was hidden here in the manor. Sure, the students had been permitted to explore the entire estate, but Remy had said that they couldn’t go to the tower. What was in that tower? Books full of forbidden knowledge? A porthole to another realm? A gnome that could turn thread into gold?

No, that was stupid, gnomes don’t like being indoors and surely the Royal Family wouldn’t keep anyone hostage in their private estate. But still, what could be there? It must be something important if even Remy wouldn’t let them know what it was.

“Okay, Tour Time, come on out or get left behind!” Remy called from the hallway, causing Logan to practically fall back into reality as he fell off the windowsill.

He groaned in pain as he got up then went out into the hallway to find Remy and the others waiting for him.

“Alrighty, we’ll begin here. This is the east wing, also known as the guest wing. This particular hallway has been cleaned up for us to use this year so please respect your rooms. The other bedrooms are locked so don’t bother looking at what is inside of them. Now if we go this way...”

The tour lasted for three hours and was mostly without interruption as everyone seemed awestruck by the magnificent manor. Logan was glad not to be alone in his awe as they went through the many different halls and passages. There were countless bedrooms in the east and west wings, private bathrooms on the first floor, several studies, sitting rooms, a library [that Logan clocked for later], extensive several acres of gardens, a ballroom, and a large dining hall fit for royalty, which is where they finished the tour to eat lunch.

There was a variety of smoked meats, fresh loaves of bread, tossed salad, a platter of cheese, and lemonade to wash it all down. Logan didn’t know what half of the meats were but tried a little bit of each. He found that he preferred sticking to the familiar beef slices for his lunch and enjoyed them in the form of a little sandwich.

He noted that while Virgil ate the simple sandwich like him, Roman, Remus, and Patton seemed to prefer the salad, while Willow and Janus ate more meat. Willow preferring theirs medium rare while Janus had used some magic to cook theirs further. Logan wondered if this was to do with their race. Willow was part wolf while Janus was part dragon, making them both somewhat carnivores, so craving a lot of meat seemed reasonable. Maybe he could ask about it later if they didn’t mind.

They had certainly seemed the friendliest to him so far, apart from Patton of course. But Patton seemed the type of person who made friends with everyone. Janus, as Willow had implied earlier, was acting cold towards the twins, and Roman seemed to be returning the same cold energy towards everyone apart from Patton. He even seemed cold to Remus, but more in an annoyed sibling fashion. Remus himself seemed indifferent to everyone, just happily chatting with Pat and sometimes blurting inappropriate thoughts. Willow looked still a bit shy though not nearly as tense as this morning, and Virgil was being silent and mysterious as ever.

“Now that lunch is done, let’s have an icebreaker,” Remy suggested.

“It seems quite warm in here, are you sure the ice needs to be broken?” Patton asked.

Everyone was silent for a moment, either cringing or holding back a laugh. Remy looked like that comment had physically pained him as he stared at Patton.

“Just for that, you’re up first, Patty.”

“Oh, um, what are we doing?”

“We’re going to go around and share a fun little fact about ourselves,” Remy explained.

“Alrighty, well, I like frogs. Sometimes, my brother and I go to the marshes and catch a few to just look at them.” Patton stated.

“You have a brother?” Remus asked.

Patton nodded. “Yeah, my little brother Morgan. He’s twelve and likes frogs almost as much as me.”

“That’s so cool. My brother isn’t even remotely interested in what I like.” Remus sighed.

“That’s because you like gory stories about seafaring hooligans,” Roman said.

“They’re not hooligans, they’re pirates. And I’m going to become one someday.” Remus declared.

Patton cocked his head to the side. “Oh?”

“At least I’d want to do the sailing part, I’ll leave the plunder and pillaging to the others. Unless I get bored,” Remus shrugged.

“I suppose we can accept that as your fact, Remus,” Remy said. “You wanna go next, Rome?”

“Roman, and yes, I shall. I am the best swordsman among the nobility. In fact, I’m to be knighted once I come of age,” Roman declared.

“You need to do an incredible deed to become a knight,” Janus pointed out.

Roman huffed. “Well, I will have you know that my great deed was saving the crown prince himself. Single-handedly.”

Virgil snorted at that.

Roman sneered at him. “And what do you find so amusing, Stormy Knight?”

“You lying about 1, becoming a knight and 2, saving the prince. Everyone knows he’s kept protected in the castle so that no one even knows his face. There's not even a remote chance that you’ve met him.”

“Well, I have. He’s actually quite handsome and much more sophisticated than any one of you. He even personally told me about his idea for this school.”

Virgil just shook his head with amusement.

“I agree with Virgil, you’re lying through your teeth. I suppose we’ll all just have to assume you’re nothing important.” Janus declared.

Roman glared at them. “I am the heir of Lycrest Isle, therefore future governor of the Eastern Ocean. I am a very important person, if not the most important here.”

Janus smirked. “Yet you’re so boring you have to lie about yourself.”

“You-”

“Can go next, Janus, since you’re so eager to speak,” Remy interrupted, steeping between the elf and dragon just in case.

“Alright then. Well, I am known in Evergreen Valley as close to royalty, since I am not only a dragon shifter but also the song of the western governor, Declan the fearless.” Janus stated.

“Cool story kid. Wolfie, you’re up.” Remy announced, ignoring the growing tension between Roman and Janus.

“Um, I grew up with Janus, my eight cousins and two younger siblings, with who I am very close,” Willow said.

“I thought you were part of a pack?” Remus said.

“I am. My pack includes my biological family, and many cousins who I was raised alongside,” Willow explained. “What did you think being a part of a pack meant?”

“Well, if you are a part of a pack, then how did you grow up with Janus?”

“I fostered with the Redrunner pack for most of my childhood,” Janus clarified.

“Oh, so you guys are like childhood friends?” Patton asked.

Willow nodded. “Yep.”

Roman looked over to Willow and said. “I’m sorry.”

“For…?”

“How long you’ve had to stand them.”

“Hey!” Janus snapped. “That is a direct attack against my character.”

“And calling me a liar isn’t?”

“Virgil called you a liar, I only agreed with him.”

“Don’t drag me into this.”

“Yeah, can’t you fight your own battles, Dragon?”

“You want to fight me, Elf?”

“Okay, no, that is where I draw the line,” Remy said in a booming voice that instantly silenced the two teens. “You don’t have to like each other, or get along that well, but there will be no physical fighting while you are under my care. In fact, if I see any of you harm each other, then I’ll send you straight home, no excuses. Am I understood?”

“Yes sir,” everyone replied.

“Great, well, that’s enough fun bonding time for today, I suppose. You can all go back to your rooms now.”

And so, that marked the end of Logan’s interactions with his class for the day, since he went straight to bed once he returned to his room. He had not gotten much sleep the night before due to nerves and excitement, so after everything that had happened, he was more than ready to drift away to dreamland.

Now that he had met his classmates, and gotten to know them if only briefly, he sorely hoped that they wouldn’t cause any disturbances to his learning magic. He didn’t want to fail the second test because of some argumentative teens taking up class time. He would be taking the test alone anyway, so he supposed that it wouldn’t affect him if they all failed. But really, he hoped that was the only fight he’d have to witness this year...

---

A/N: thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed this. I'll be posting two chapters a day until the full fic is up, so if you want to be tagged, you can just ask.

I'd love to hear what you thought about the chapter if you wouldn't mind commenting. Thanks again for reading! Here's hoping you have a magical day 💜

[diamondcamefromhell]

Timeless love

Jaskier x Reader part 5

[PART 1]  [PART 2]   [PART 3]  [PART 4]

Summary: This is an AU, where Y/N is a young woman, trying to make ends meet with her freelancing writing job. She lives in her small Nottingham studio apartment along with her cat Apollo. Things change when one evening as she is waiting for her taxi, she meets what she thinks is Joey Batey, but the man in front of her is convinced he’s Jaskier, a character from her current favorite show. Y/N now has to figure out what to do.

Warnings: drinking and just some cheesy cheese

Word count: 2,637

A/N: Ahhh you guys, thank you for liking this story and encouraging me to write it, i sooo expected this to be a flop, and i really appreciate the [so far] positive feedback ahhh! we writers do fuel on comments sometimes, lol, so whenever you lot say you like it i go so soft and THANK YOU hope you like this part <333

Jaskier doesn’t look at me, keeping his gaze at his arms. I see him try to blink the tears away, but he fails, as some escape, washing down his face. I reach out, putting my hand on his.

“I’m sorry.” I whisper, not wanting to disturb him. He wipes his face with his free hand, looking at me.

“It’s accurate.” His voice sounds rough and deep. I squeeze his hand. “Like, really accurate.”

“It must be scary.” He hangs his head low.

“It is, Y/N. But at the same time…” Jaskier now leans back on the coach, closing his eyes. His lashes now cast shadows down his face, making him appear so much older. “I am glad that it is, at the very least, correct. Not some fake story, just using our names and faces. It’s real.”

“I cant even imagine what you’re feeling. What must be going through your head.” I whisper as he opens his eyes, gazing at me. “But I want you to know I am here to help you, in any way I possibly can.”

“I have no doubts about that.” He reassures me, brushing hair out of his face, taking a deep breath in. “It’s scary, but it made me upset because… I miss it. I miss Geralt and Roach and I miss Velen and Novigrad.”

“You’re homesick.” He nods. “I promise we will get you home, we will figure it out. Something, somehow.”

“Thank you.” He offers me a smile, and I stare into his eyes, wondering just how much they have seen. How much of a different world, so far away? I wish I could experience that. With him. But then I also know, I belong here and he truly belongs there.

“Until then, Jaskier, maybe I should allow you to experience more of my world.” I say, taking laptop on my knees, exiting Netflix.

“I would be recognized as the guy who plays me, unless I can experience it from your home.” I shake my head.

“I should have thought of it sooner, if I am honest.” I sigh, turning laptop to him. “We have wigs. And some people wear cute little masks as fashion. We could pretend you are one of them, get a wig, and boom. You’re a different person, free to roam the world. We could go to eat out or an amusement park or clubbing or…-“

“Is it a date?” He cuts me off, immediately sending a blush to my face.

“Sure.” I stutter as he giggles, and my heart eases up a little.

So I order a wig. A blond one, spend good pounds on it. And a mask. And just more outfits. They should arrive here by tomorrow. I leave the shop, not wanting to know what my bank balance is looking like.

Then I open some more tabs. I begin grilling Jaskier, trying to distract him. I ask where he would want to go eat, if he even wants to go ride some rollercoasters. He agrees to it all, as his eyes lighten up and his shoulders relax. My hear beats faster.

The next day when items arrive, he tries them on, and while the wig is not the best, you cant really recognize him. So that same evening, I decide it’s time we go to a pub, something he is almost familiar with. We’re walking from the taxi, towards the pub just out of town, as I begin explaining it to him.

“It is similar to a tavern, in my opinion at least.” I say, as he nods. “You can go there, order some food, drinks, whatever really, just a place to hang out.”

“Sounds cool.” He says, not sounding impressed and I grin at him.

We make it inside, as the warmth surrounds us. I hear some pop music play, wondering what Jask will think about that. I guide us to a further corner, a table behind a pillar. I know some waitresses call it a “lovers nest” and that sheer name makes my heart skip a beat. Sadly, we are using it for coverage mostly.

We sit down, Jaskier’s back facing the pub, as a waitress gives us our menus, giving a weird glance to the bard, but not commenting on his outfit.

I forced him to wear a simple white shirt with a oversized colourful jacket. It had patterns of marvel superheroes, which I thought was cool, but he said wearing “green goblin” on his ass wasn’t his cup of tea.

“You can take your mask off.” I encourage Jaskier now, as he practically rips it off. Underneath, I see a smile.

“This is nice.” I hm in agreement, looking at the menu.

“We can start with drinks.” I say, turning it around to the drinks side. “Unless you’re hungry.”

“No, I’m okay on food.” I smirk, twisting his menu too.

“Then let’s drink.” He seems to like that.

We order some cocktails, although Jaskier insisted of good old ale. And some shots of different spirits. The waitress brings it, wishing us a good night, and I know she probably wont bother us much. Unwritten rule for lovers nest.

So we drink up, talking about everything and nothing. I tell him about how I find Apollo on the streets, poor boy was bones and skin, full of lice and worms in his belly. Costed me a lot, but I was determined to take care of him. He tells me about the time before he met Geralt, how he learnt to play the lute by himself.

“I would wonder the fields, singing my heart out. I wasn’t very good then.” He laughs, looking into the distance with a nostalgic look growing on his face.

“How come?” I ask, sipping my Mojito, which Jaskier didn’t like.

“The wolves would run away, whenever they would hear me.” I chuckle, and his gaze comes back, landing on me, as his lips curl into a smile. “But I learnt.”

“I know.” I say, as he grows silent. He hasn’t sung since we met. “You should, however, prove it some time.”

“Hm.” He smirks.

I almost don’t hear it, in a faintest voice, Jaskier begins to sing. In a language I don’t understand. I don’t know if he spoke one of the elder languages, if it was elven or something, but it sounded beautiful. So sad, however.

My gaze seemed to encourage him, as his voice grew ever so braver. He didn’t take his eyes off me, as if to make sure I was listening. I wouldn’t dare to do anything else. Then, as sudden as it began, it stopped.

“That was beautiful.” I say as the light above our table flickers. “Even if I understood nothing.”

“Not mine song. One of the elves I’ve met on a road taught me.” My curiosity grows as I lean in.

“What is it about?” That makes Jaskier blush, as he winks at me.

“I’ll tell you another time.” I lean back now, crossing my arms.

“Not fair.” I argue, but he doesn’t budge.

“I promise, you will learn someday. Just, not today.” I roll my eyes, easing up however, as I reach back for my mojito.

“Oh! I love this song!” I say as a slightly louder one comes on. It’s Ed Sheeran’s ‘Thinking Out Loud’

I spring to my feet, drink still at hand, as I dance to the rhythm, twirling and twisting around, not caring if I look graceful or anything. I was feeling the moment. I sing along to it, not being anxious if I sound bad. The wonders of alcohol.

I finally make eye contact with Jaskier, who seems to be mesmerized. I reach out to him, pulling him up just as the lyrics hit ‘Maybe just a touch of a hand’. I keep singing, making him dance with me. He kind of doesn’t move, his lips slightly apart, eyes wide open.

I take step back, to sing the chorus and I twirl around him, smiling. I keep singing, now mostly just waving my body side to side, looking at the bard in front of me. The whole pub seems to disappear, nothing else matters. Just me and him, in his stupid wig.

Just us, in this world. Scared and confused. Lost. Not sure of what tomorrow may bring. But for now, we were in this together, and in this very moment, I counted all of my blessings. The biggest one stood before my very own eyes. His lips still parted, his gaze still on me.

My chest tightened as the song was nearing the end and I walked towards him. Just to make sure he is real, truly here. And he was, as his hands land on my waist and he finally swings with me, as I silence my signing to a mere whisper, placing my forehead on his shoulder. Breathing him in, storing the scent in my brain. I memorize the way his hands lay, engraving it in my body, so I could remember it when he is not there to remind me.

I touched him. I smelled him. And now.

I pull away, and before I can change my mind, before worry and anxiety come over me, I place my lips on his. My eyes are shut, as I am scared to open them, even when we pull apart.

Now I tasted him too. The pina colada he just drank was still on his lips. Coconut and a mix of alcohol. But there was something else, something I couldn’t point out. I guess it was just the way his kiss tastes.

“You can open your eyes.” I hear hip whisper, as the song ends. I jump a little, opening my eyes. He gazes into me.

“Sorry.” I stutter, stepping back, as his grip loosens and I slide out of his arms.

“For what?” He furrows his brows, and I feel heat rush to my face.

“I crossed the line?” I say, and it sounds more like a question than a statement.

“Oh, Y/N.” He lets out a laugh, as it eases me up immediately. “You really didn’t. I like you.”

I stare at him, as he says it so casually. It slid off his tongue, like poison, going right in my bloodstream, straight to my heart. I go back to my seat, downing the rest of mojito. Jaskier follows suit, sitting in front of me, grinning.

“Stop being so afraid.” He grabs my hand, which I didn’t even notice was shaking.

“I like you.” I admit, not looking at him, as I blush even more. “And it’s scary to like someone, Jaskier.”

“It’s not like you like a monster.” He teases as I fix my gaze on his empty glass.

“No, of course not, but…” I stop there. No need to remind him we are from different worlds. Right now we were both here. Together. Nothing was stopping us from falling. “I don’t know.”

“There are a lot of things people may never know.” I look at him now, as he gives me a soft, encouraging smile. “Love might just manage to be one of them.”

“It really is.” I agree, leaning back. I feel my heart calm down a little.

“By the way, you sound incredible.” I open my mouth in shock as Jaskier doesn’t seem to be able to hold in a laugh, as it rings the entire pub. “You look so much more surprised by that, than me liking you.”

“Because you just said I sound incredible!” I pull my hand from his grip, brushing my hair out of my face, squinting at him. “Do you like the sound of dying cats too?”

“If they sounded like you, I might kill cats for fun.” I flush red.

“Stop.” I stutter as he giggles, clearly entertained. “I need to use the restroom.”

I spring to my feet, fanning my face as I rush past him. I find the bathroom in a basement. I go, splash some water on my face. It doesn’t really help, but it gives me a moment to calm down. I take deep breaths, bravely walking out.

I bump into someone.

“Sorry.” I say, lifting my head. My heart sinks.

“It’s okay.” Our eyes meet, as the man face grows full of concern. “Are you okay?”

“I think I might be sick.” I scramble the words, turning on my feet rushing back in the bathroom. I let out the alcohol into the toilet, flushing it, as my head aches. This can’t be happening.

“Hey, are you okay?” The familiar voice creeps in as I grunt. I know he cant hear me. I quickly wash my mouth with some water, coming out again.

“Yeah, sorry.” I cant stop my voice from shaking, as he crosses his arms, his blue eyes piercing at me.

“You looked like you saw a ghost or something.” He giggles and I manage to give a weak smile in response.

“I recognized you, is all.” I decide to say the truth, or at least some of it. “Didn’t expect to see someone like you in this pub.”

“One of my friends is from around here, we’re catching up.” I stare at him, not believing my luck. One of his, one of Joey Bateys friends lives nearby. Are you kidding me.

“Then I wont hold you back any longer.” I say, moving out of the way so he could go to the stairs, but he doesn’t move.

“You’re not holding anyone back, I am glad to meet a fan.” I grin, turning around and initiating us walking out of this basement.

“Maybe not by the bathrooms.” I point out as he snickers and now not seeing him I can pretend it’s Jask.

“Can I buy you a drink?” I shake my head.

“I’m on a date.” I say, gritting my teeth. “Thank you, though.”

“Yes, of course.” I stop in the pub now, as I see that nobody is batting an eye. Nobody else seemed to recognize the actor.

“Well, I better not keep my man waiting.” I look at Joey one more time, praying to god I don’t vomit on him now.

“Enjoy your date.” Joey says as I nod as a thanks. “Maybe I’ll see you around?”

“I truly hope so.” I say in a friendly voice, as he waves at me, going to a different end of a pub.

I rush to our table, practically attacking Jaskier. I grip his shoulder tightly.

“We need to go.” I hiss startling him. “Now.”

“What happened?” I don’t feel like I have time to talk, as I take my purse, pulling out the card.

“Mask on. Head down.” I order, as I speed walk to the bar, paying for the drinks.

I hear Jask behind me, so I rush to the door, glad Joey seems to be seated in the other corner, where he can’t see us flee. Once outside, I keep power walking, until out of breath Jaskier catches on and grabs my hand.

“What happened?” I look at him.

“I met Joey Batey. Inside.” I grunt, as I shake. Jaskier pulls me into a hug, patting my back.

“Hey, he’s just a guy, nothing to be scared off.” I know he’s right. I know it, but yet…

“I am not scared off him, just. If people were to see you two, next to each other…” I jumble the words, not sure if he can understand what I’m trying to say.

“So you were worried for me.” I hear a smile in his voice, so I gently punch his hand, as I pull away. “That’s why I like you.”

“Because you need someone who will look after you like you’re a baby?” I tease as he laughs.

But my beating heart doesn’t slow, so I quickly get us a taxi home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[skelffricat]

Uppa (Mother)Hoods

I have never given birth, yet I have made three children. At the cosy NCT* group in the Ormeau Library, where I went with my first child (when I managed to get up early enough) I felt ashamed of this. The mothers there were Proper Mothers, with scars in their vaginas; tits out for milking; organic rice cakes for snacks; and great pride in their beautiful birth stories. They were horrific to me (the stories, not the mothers). I couldn’t talk about my birth experience without crying. I even made my GP cry, telling her about it. My eldest was whisked out of my unconscious middle in a now-derelict hospital in South Wales, while my legs were stirruped up (I once made the mistake of visiting the Erotic Museum in Amsterdam- the Sex Museum is better- whilst very stoned. One tends to be stoned, in Amsterdam, I suppose. The floors were confusingly slanted, giving me a sinking feeling, and the top floor’s “sexy” scene was a hospital one. Mannequins in stirrups do NOT turn me on. I had to immediately leave. I may have wept.) There was a student in the hospital room, with horror on his young face, gawping between my legs, and a nurse was urging the doctor to wait for me to go fully under the anaesthetic before he sliced my layers open with the scalpel. My eldest’s father had already been bade to leave. I think he signed something as he left. Signed our lives away?

I learnt later, whilst perusing my eldest’s little red book**, that her lung had collapsed. (I asked why they hadn’t told me. Oh, but it’s fairly common, they said. One in ten thousand. Not worth mentioning, really. Wtf?!) She had pooed in my womb (how rude!) and inhaled some of her own meconium. Meconium. Meconium. I had already learnt that word as a teen, from the band James, in their brilliant song, Gold Mother.

Then I had three friends- well, six, really- who had had stillborn children, at full term, and stopped feeling ashamed of how my child had made her clumsy entrance to the world, and merely relieved that she was alive and kicking, and proud of her. The biggest, reddest, loudest, baby in SCBU***. (“How will I know which one is mine?” I had croaked. Then, it was so obvious, I’d laughed.) I can also feel smug about not pissing myself on trampolines, or every time I sneeze, like most of the women I know who’ve had natural births. Perhaps I’ll start an Unnatural Childbirth Trust. Do your pelvic floor exercises. Now. 

TRIGGER WARNING: I am going to talk about teenage suicide.

Now my youngest child has died, by suicide, just short of her 15th birthday, and I try to feel relief that she is at peace, and that I got 15 glorious years with her. If I think about birthdays like the Chinese people do, I can call it 16****. Almost a woman.

I found her. She arranged that I would, I suppose because she thought I could cope with it better than her father could (she was right, of course. She was usually right. She was very wise. I miss her wisdom, and her unfailing ability to open any jar I couldn’t. She was strong.) I don’t know how to feel about that. People keep telling me that I’m strong, but it seems strangely shameful to be strong at this time (and I still can’t open jars). Perhaps the anti-depressants are working too well? I wonder. I worry that my blasé attitude to death made her decision easier (though I understand that it is pointless to worry about these things now. It won’t bring her back.) We tended to talk about death a lot. Some of my friends had died by suicide, and I would discuss with my mother, her granny, around the children, how suicide was no longer a shameful thing. How you shouldn’t say “committed” in front of it, because it hasn’t been a crime in the UK since 1961. It shouldn’t be a crime anywhere. We went to funerals in brightly coloured clothes. I celebrated dead people’s wonderful lives with them. 

She was hanging from the trapeze I’d had built for her, in our quiet back garden, from a hammock that I had bought for her. I had wondered about the hammock being out there in winter, and thought it was tied in a funny way, a few days before, but not done anything about that. I try not to regret that either. My logic comforts me thus: at least these things could be taken from the garden, and destroyed (the hammock) or used again (the trapeze) and I didn’t have to cut down any trees. I said to myself- she would have done it anyway, somewhere else, at some time. She did it with her things. She used to do amazing things on them. She could soar and swoop gracefully from that trapeze, and even the hammock got strung up high and spun from. 

I had been drinking the night before with my lovely Scottish lover. We watched Wild at Heart, and drank red wine. I thoroughly christened the new bright yellow carpet with a full glass of it, oops. Tried to clean it with a sock. My youngest child was baking in the kitchen. She made a vegan chocolate cake. At one point I went in to her and she was sat on the floor, looking at the cake in the oven. Her head was practically in there. When I was a child, we had electric, not gas, and I thought that people who killed themselves by putting their heads in the oven were cooking themselves to death. How did all the heat not escape, I wondered? How long would that take?! Those thoughts went through my head as I looked at her. She had attempted suicide before, around a month ago. We had been to the hospital. She convinced them (and me) that she wasn’t suicidal, and was sent home. I am not angry at this. What is the point in being angry? She is gone. She was a good actress. A cry for help? She had been to CAMHS that very day. I felt hopeful. She was making cake! She was going to try school tomorrow, in her own comfortable clothes. She hadn’t been for ages. She was too anxious, about uniform, about what to learn, about the future. I asked her what she was doing and we laughed about her proximity to the oven.

He and I ate the cake, later, with natural yoghurt. It was delicious. We called her to join us and she wouldn’t. The last time I saw my youngest daughter alive I was thinking about her killing herself, in a jocular way. Then she did. In a jugular way. Fuck, sorry. I find myself saying the most inappropriate things. 

Sometimes I imagine her last breath. Or dream of disembodied heads. I wonder did she change her mind at the last minute, or feel resolute, and pleased with herself, her escape? Did she make a noise? Did she call out to me, to anyone? I guess you probably can’t call out...? At first, the shock was so severe, I couldn’t think about it without feeling a massive surge of pure panic. I saw my face in the mirror that morning, and it was ashen grey. Later, my eldest described the sensation as a perpetual feeling of dread. Impending doom. Yes, I said, like we’re waiting for something horrific to happen! Then we would realise it already had. My heart thumped so viciously hard inside of me, it felt like it was going to jump right out of my chest. Proving its aliveness. Until I calmed it with (mostly) legal drugs. In the next few weeks, I liked to listen to hearts beating, breath flowing. People being alive, alive- oh. 

My lover had left that night, as he was to go on a walk early the next day. I am so relieved that he had. He has his own demons. He never went on that walk, of course, but at least he didn’t have to find her. He left at around 3am. Her bedroom door was closed. 

I awoke just before 6am. I’m not sure why. I expect I needed water, because I’d been drinking wine. Her door was open. The light was on, and I could see her bed was empty. I got water, and went to her room and saw there was a note on the bed. It was written in green biro, on an A4 file page, folded twice. There was a little cheeky red smiley face with its tongue out on the outside. It was a suicide note. Full of love. Was it a suicide note? So much love. It can’t be a suicide note. I started to look for her, around the house. It was still very dark. I was switching on the light in a room and looking around it and switching the light off and looking in another room. I couldn’t find her. I looked in some rooms twice. I even opened the compartment under her bed. I looked in the cupboard under the stairs, like Harry Potter’s room, that she and her friend had once shut themselves into, to see each other’s glow-in-the-dark bicycle helmets. Where is she? I thought. This is the worst game of Hide-and-Go-Seek ever! Perhaps it’s not a suicide note. Perhaps she has run away? I got dressed. 

Then I found her, in our dark and silent back garden. As she was on the far side of the trapeze to me, her feet were level with the safety mat under the trapeze. I thought for a second that she was just standing there, very still. I was still hoping it was all a joke. A mistake. One of our white garden chairs was beside her. When I realised she was hanging, I swung her slightly. This movement haunts me. Her face... her face was distorted. Her tongue lolling out. I hope you never have to see that on anyone. Especially not your child. My friend hanged herself years ago and my daughter’s face reminded me of her dead one. So, I was thinking, she is dead, in one layer of my mind, and in another, I was thinking, I shall save her. I was calling her, and caressing her freezing face. She was so cold. Dead cold. I ran into the kitchen, got a serrated knife. I am unsure of the order of things. Had I already phoned 999? Was I trying to talk on the phone whilst doing all of this? I cut rapidly through the hammock- it was easy. She flopped into the muck. It was so mucky. I was trying to pull her by the arms onto the trapeze mat, away from the cloying mud, but she was a dead weight. Dead dead dead. No help there. I couldn’t move her. She was so ungainly. I felt inept and weak. I tried to put her in the recovery position. Then I thought, oh wait, no, I need to do chest compressions- I can’t do that on a soft mat anyway. I kept dropping the phone in the mud, and the man on the end of the line was almost shouting at me. 

I put her on her back and was doing chest compressions and he was asking, “is she breathing?” 

She seemed to breathe when I pressed her. I thought, oh! She’s alive? I kept pressing, and dropping the phone in the mud, and I was all mucky too, and she wasn’t breathing- I was just pushing air through her- but I had a glimmer of hope, and the 999 man was counting with me through my mucky mobile phone, and I heard the ambulance coming, and I said to him, I have to let them in! and he said, NO! Keep pressing! I said, I have to, my garden is inaccessible, and I let them in. Two ambulances, filling my dark quiet street with noise and lights and hope. 

They took over. They asked for towels to kneel on in the muck. I’d never thought of that- I got them, as quick as I could. I paced, and watched, and walked away then watched again, and the cat jumped and wheedled around everything. Did he see her die? I wondered? Why didn’t you come get me, cat, like Lassie, or Skippy, or fucking Flipper!? She must have shut the kitchen door and kept him away. They tried and tried, and I paced. They did the defibrillators. Then her breasts became visible and I baulked at the indignity of it, whilst knowing it was entirely necessary, and just... human. They did the adrenaline shots. Four of them, taking turns. Is there any hope? I asked one. Not really, he said. We’re trying because she is young. She’s been there a while. At least I could feel less guilty about getting dressed. I kept thinking, why did I get dressed? I got dressed to go find my dead daughter. 

Was it starting to get light? It was going to be a beautiful morning, I thought, what a pity she can’t see it. I changed out of my mucky clothes. Layered up. It was so cold. There was time, while they tried to save her.

They tried for 20 minutes before they pronounced her dead. There was mud everywhere. They put the mucky towels in a shopping basket I had outside to light fires in. The ambulance people all told me they were very sorry for my loss.

I don’t like euphemisms for death. 

Saying I’ve lost her implies I could find her again. I suppose I find her in my dreams. Though I dreamt of different, unknown, children last night. Two little mixed race boys that I was minding in the (huge dream version) of the Carnival Centre. They kept running away and messing about. At one point we were all on top of a huge concrete topped lift (elevator), that lurched away from beneath us so that we flew into the air. It was falling faster than us. How is that possible? We couldn’t catch up with gravity. Griefity? We weren’t falling fast enough. I keep dreaming of losing children. Not children dying. I dreamt I lost my son the other night too. He was led into a room I wasn’t allowed in. I could see him through the window of the door I couldn’t go through. Then he went out of my sight and I woke up, shaking, horrified.

I recently found my daughter alive again, in a dream. She was very wee- three or four. Before her first haircut. She was being really bold and naughty. She kept running away from me, and she had pooed herself a little, and was rubbing the poo on things, half on purpose. I was trying to catch her and clean her and her hands. We were on holiday? Maybe on a big ferry? I think we had to catch a flight. She had run into a swimming pool room and climbed into a pile of boxes and upset the boxes, and pulled another little girl on top of her and hurt her too. I was trying to pull them out, without hurting them, without losing my temper. I was really trying hard to keep my temper. I was thinking as I woke, if this keeps up, she'll be taken off me. It was so vivid that as I came to, I thought, I must text the Woodcarver; I must text my youngest daughter, to see if she's ok. It was quite a while before I awoke properly and thought, of course she's not ok, she's dead. She's already away. Then I got upset, and cried, but I was glad I got upset because I've been taking anti-depressants and not feeling anything much, so it was a relief to feel sad. I accidentally hadn't taken any for a couple of days at that point.  

Saying she has passed annoys me more. Passed what? Her exams? Wind? (That’s always funny.) She has passed tense? She is past tense.

It wasn’t until she was pronounced officially dead that I phoned her father, the Woodcarver. I thought, there is no point in giving him false hope like mine. He made a loud guttural noise, like a wounded animal, on the other end of the line. It woke my son, who was staying with him. He thought his father was dying. Wrong relative.

It was a brightening cold morning by now. The police came. Her father came. He kicked the white chair she had used, and broke it. This satisfied and disturbed me in equal measure. He hit his head off the sink. I was frightened by him, despite the police presence. I was frightened for him.

The police were very kind. A man and a woman. The man was comfortingly camp. They had masks on. There’s a pandemic, it is said. They took their hats off, but left the masks on. No-one else really bothered with masks, for the next while. I was fascinated by the police officers’ dark green peaked hats- one for boys, and one for girls- on my kitchen table. I made myself tea and put sugar in it. I never take sugar in tea. I’d heard it was good for shock.

My dead daughter’s father’s brother came. He told me to phone my mum. I said I would wait until she normally got up. What is the sense of breaking your last peaceful night’s sleep early, to find out something that won’t be any less dreadful half an hour later? He had brought my son; my daughter’s father’s mother; my daughter’s father’s girlfriend. This is starting to read like Anna Burns’ The Milkman. My daughter’s grandma was also fascinated by the police officers’ hats. She said that one wanted mending, and she wished she had a needle and thread. I didn’t think to fetch her one. I asked if it is true that pregnant women are allowed to pee in police officers’ hats, but they hadn’t heard that before. I kept checking the time on my phone, every few minutes, and drinking sweet tea. I was waiting for the real morning to begin. Nothing has felt real ever since, though.

When I did ring my mother at 8am, she didn’t wake. My little brother did, though. He went and told her in person, and when she arrived, she was bawling, and had forgotten her glasses. She looked tiny. She was due to see everyone the next day. She had been quarantining as she was not long back from Spain. I deeply regret not bringing the children to wave at her in the garden. She hadn’t seen them for months. 

We were flitting between my house and our friends’ house round the corner. My garden was now a crime scene. My daughter’s father didn’t like this. He wanted to hold her lifeless body’s hand. At that point, I thought I never wanted to see her lifeless body again, but I changed my mind a few days later, and that was alright. I saw her in her casket and her face looked... Dead, but not distorted any more. She looked peaceful, I suppose, and very beautiful, in a sad way. She was surrounded by toys, trinkets, food she loved. Dried mango. Finn and Jake. Her elder sister tucked her pride flag around her. She hadn’t seen her for ten months. 

There were many people now, milling inside, and out in the sunshine, between the two houses. The neighbours were out and about, too. I had made horrendous phone calls to a workmate and a couple of friends and the word was spreading. I had phoned my eldest daughter in Wales. To spread the word. The bad word. The worst words. I have had Joshua Burnside’s song, The Good Word, in my head a lot, this last while.

“Last night I dreamed

We were running for our lives

From robots in the jungle

Helicopters in the sky

But the ground opened up and I

Couldn't save her

Couldn't save her

Couldn't save her again

Oh no

No sir

Not this time

Glory hallelujah.”

My lover came down and was of the utmost comfort to me. When the coroner had been and they were to take her away, the Woodcarver’s biggest brother- he that had been there first- came to me in the other house and asked did I want to say goodbye to her body? I said, no, I do not, that is not my daughter any more.

I sought comfort in words. We read poems on her bed. 

Various people told us of a humanist celebrant. She offered to help us for free, and she did, and I am so grateful. 

A friend gave me valium. At some point, someone went to the offy. More and more people came. The lovely camp police officer returned, with my daughter’s bank card, and people panicked, because of Covid, but he didn’t say anything. He only wanted to help.

The next while was a blur...

*National Childbirth Trust- it was the only secular one. I also enjoyed the ones in churches, with their cream teas, and knitted religious folks, trying not to try to convert you and yours. It perhaps could’ve been called the Natural Childbirth Trust, because they kept banging on about it...

**The NHS issue these red books as personal child health records. 

***SCBU- the Special Care Baby Unit. They pronounced it Skiboo, in their lovely Welsh lilts. My doctor looked like a child. She had been working for 24 hours straight, and was still charming and kind.

****Age reckoning originated in China, where it's believed that a baby's age starts from its time in the mother's womb. The practice is also common in Korea, Japan, Taiwan, Hong Kong and Vietnam.

[secret-kkh-fics]

History Repeats | Chapter 1

Due to this not being posted anywhere else yet, please like and DON’T REBLOG my fics.

Chapter Summary:

Rose is horribly ill and exhausted after a bad day. She is surprised when she gets an unexpected visitor who tells her some interesting information and offers her a way to both cure her illness and get back to the Doctor.

Author Note:

Hello! Yet another one I have decided to rewrite. Never actually finished the original of this. I got to somewhere around World War III before I took a hiatus from it and came back a few years later and realised I wanted to update everything to do with it. I ended up both writing the new chapters at the same time as updating the old.

Visitor Through the Void

Dying to Go Home

Rose slowly dragged herself into her house, carelessly dumpling her things near the doorway, and flopping down onto the couch, not even bothering to take off her shoes or jacket. It had been a long, exhausting, and disappointing day. And she was in a lot of pain.

They were certain that the dimension cannon was ready to go this time. The mechanics had been checked a thousand times, and by all rights, it should work. But something was stopping it from working. It was like how after the breach had closed and the jump refused to work. This meant that she would only be able to get back home when the walls between the worlds were weak… and that wasn’t a good thing.

She wanted to go home more than anything, but if the walls weakened, it could only mean that something really bad was happening. And she had learnt the hard and heart-breaking way that not even the Doctor could stop everything.

 It had been just over a year since the painful day she had been trapped in this universe. A whole year of being broken in more ways than one. She’d tried… she really had. She did it for her family’s sake, and for Mikey’s sake, and mostly for her sake. She did it for the Doctor. Because she knew that he would want her to do what she was doing. She knew that she was better than that. She wasn’t just a broke shop girl anymore. They were all worried about her, so she had tried to act like she wasn’t slowly dying.

She had gone to work at Torchwood with Mickey and Pete. It was the closest thing she could get to her old life in this world, and it was also her only chance to get back. She had made a few friends and made an effort to hang out with them and be happy. She played with her new baby brother and spent time with her mother. She had even gone back to school and worked on her A Levels. She lived the fantastic life he had asked of her.

…Or, at least, she tried to live the fantastic life he had asked her to. But it didn’t feel fantastic. Or brilliant. Or anything other than horrible. Alright at best.

She felt as if her mind and heart were slowly being ripped apart. She felt empty like she was missing something inside of her. Some crucial part that she needed to live. Yes, she felt empty and broken from the loss of her Doctor… but it was something else too.

Sometimes she felt as if she were drowning, that her oxygen was being taken away, suffocating her. It was the same feeling, like her lifeline was slowly being dragged away from her. Killing her painfully and slowly. And it was only getting worse.

She was sick. Badly sick. She’d tried to hide it from her family, but they had noticed. They had noticed the fevers and deliriums. They had seen her have the occasional hallucination or seizure. They had seen how most days she was overcome by severe migraines that were at times so crippling she wanted nothing more than to curl in a ball and scream.

But still, she went on as best she could.

She had been to the hospital for scans and tests, but they had all shown nothing wrong with her. Medically anyway. They had noted that her brain scans and DNA seemed a little odd… inhuman. But they weren’t harmful. In the end, she had chalked it up to side-effects from travelling through space and time for years.

Grief could cause sickness. People had died of grief. They had given up, and it had overcome them… Her family thought that grief was the cause. But she knew it wasn’t. She was heartbroken, but she was too determined to let it beat her. People only died of grief when they gave up, and she had far from given up. She refused to. She was not going to give up until she found a way back home. She wouldn’t give up till she was with him again.

 But right now, she was so sick and so tired, the migraine that had been building all day so instead, she fell unconscious within moments of landing on the couch.

  Rose was woken by singing. At first, the song played at the edge of her mind, slowly dragging her back to consciousness. It was a familiar song, an eerie, haunting tune. She’d heard it a thousand times before. She knew it like the back of her hand, and she knew she had found herself absentmindedly humming it many times. But she couldn’t place where she knew it from.

The next thing she noticed was that she was feeling much better. She was able to breathe easier. Most surprisingly, her migraine was completely gone. She couldn’t recall the last time she hadn’t had even a slight headache, but she wasn’t in pain. She wasn’t in pain at all, which was something else she couldn’t recall the last time that happened. For the first time in a very long time, she felt whole again.

Sitting up, the third thing she noticed was a golden light coming from somewhere in the room. She looked over at the source of the light in surprise. It was dark now, probably sometime past one in the morning, and there was very little light shining into her house. So, the glowing cloud of golden dust like energy swirling around in the middle of the room was massively out of place.

She jumped to her feet in alarm, looking for something to defend herself if whatever it was was dangerous. She watched warily as the golden mass swirled through the air gently a moment, before it all started to be dragged towards the centre, pulling it all in so it clumped together, then, with a final flash, it formed into the shape of a woman.

The woman was glowing slightly, and she gasped as she came into being, then immediately fell to the floor. Rose quickly hit the lights, then rushed over to help her to her feet. But she stopped dead when she saw the woman’s face… it was her.

The other her looked younger than she did now, she could only be nineteen or twenty. Sure, to be honest, she hadn’t actually changed that much at all since then, but there was something about this Rose that seemed so young.

Most alarming, though, was that this other Rose had glowing gold eyes. And on top of that, she was wearing an outfit that had been destroyed long ago.

“Oh… that’s a new feeling,” the other her said, attempting to steady herself on her feet. Then she pulled a surprised face, almost as if she was startled by the sound of her own voice. She was still very shaky on her feet and almost fell over again, so Rose put out a hand to steady her. She had to catch her right away when the other her let out a sharp gasp and doubled over. “Oh, and it hurts! That really, really hurts!” she gasped. “How do you humans tolerate this? Just wait until I get my hands on that stupid Master… Wait… hands. I have hands.”

“O-okay…” Rose said in confusion. “Sorry, what’s going on?”

This made the other Rose look up at her, and her golden glowing eyes widened in delight as if she’d only just noticed her. “Rose!” she cried happily, throwing her arms around her. “Thank Rassilon, you’re still alive! I was so worried about you! Oh, you don’t look so good. I was cutting it close, but this was the first moment that the wall between the walls weakened. Goodness, this talking thing is fun! No wonder my Thief does it so much!”

Experimentally, the other Rose began to flex her jaw and pull funny faces.

“Right… So, who are you and why do you look like me?”

“Look like you?” Again, she brought her arms up in front of her and looked at her hands, turning them over as if she would see the resemblance, then she turned around until she managed to catch sight of herself in a reflective surface. Then she let out a small squeal of delight, bringing her hands up to feel her face, poking at the huge grin she found there. “I look like my human!” She, yet again, seemed ecstatic about this. Rose was baffled by the way the duplicate of her had practically claimed her, but it gave her the sense that she perhaps knew her.

“Yeah, you do. So, um… Who are you?”

“Oh, yes. I’m-” She paused as if she couldn’t quite remember. “Oh, what do you call me? You call me a name that’s not my name. I’m blue. We travel… I go-” Rose jumped a mile in the air when the familiar sounds of the TARDIS dematerialising came from the other Rose’s mouth.

“The TARDIS?!” she said in shocked disbelief.

“Yes! Time And Relative Dimensions In Space. That’s it! That’s me. I’m the TARDIS.”

Weakly, Rose backed up until her legs touched the couch and she sunk down onto it, her mouth hanging open slightly. “Oh my god… But-but how? How’s this possible? And how come you look like me?”

“Ooh! It’s quite simple, really,” the TARDIS told her. “There’s a crack in the universe that I was able to squeeze my consciousness through. But I couldn’t just -poof! – get a body. I needed energy and DNA and matter and a whole bunch of other things that would take longer than we have to list! Since you’re the only one who’s ever actually touched me and not just my console, yours was the only DNA I could use. It’s not permanent, though. It won’t last long. And I’m afraid I am terribly weak. I’m using what little energy I have left to do this-” Suddenly, she whimpered in pain and sunk to the ground. As she did, Rose quickly reached out and pulled her down onto the couch with her.

“Are you okay?” she said in alarm and concern. She held onto the Rose shaped TARDIS, running a hand over her head to check her temperature. She seemed normal, but there was clearly something wrong.

“I’ll be okay eventually,” she said, trying for a smile. It was a weak one that Rose knew all too well. She had given that smile so, so many times over the last year. It was how she smiled when she was trying to hide her pain from her family.

“What’s wrong?”

“Oh, just an insane Time Lord – and for once I do not mean the Doctor – has stolen me and turned me into a paradox machine.”

“Oh no. That’s not good.”

“No, it isn’t. But all will be well in the end… I hope. There are a lot of outcomes, but this is the Doctor. Besides, it’s worth it. The paradox has weakened the walls between the universes. It’s the only way I could get here, and I’m so glad that I did.” The TARDIS smiled at her, and this time it was a genuine one. “The Doctor and I can’t live without our human. We hate it. We’re so sad… And you feel the same. But you, Rose Tyler, literally can’t live without us… Or, well, me.

“Literally?” She raised her eyebrows in question. “What do you mean literally?” The words put her on edge, especially since she sensed just how true they were. But, despite the foreboding, she couldn’t bring herself to be anything but overjoyed and excited. The walls of the universe were weak. That meant that the Dimension Canon might be able to work finally. But to one-up that, the TARDIS herself was sitting there in her living room!

“You’ve already noticed it, haven’t you?” the TARDIS asked her. “Ever since I’ve been here, you haven’t felt quite as sick. And you’ve been sick for a long time now, haven’t you?”

“Yeah.” Rose nodded. “Started not long after Dårlig Ulv Stranden. It was mostly just… headaches. All the time. And then migraines. Sickness, seizures, dizzy spells and weakness. Mum was scared it was a tumour or something, but the tests all show nothing’s wrong.”

“No, I don’t imagine cellular destructuralisation would show on the technology here.”

“Cellular destructuralisation?”

“Yes, a side effect from being cut off from me, I’m afraid.”

“But… doesn’t that mean that I was… falling apart or something? Wouldn’t that mean I was dying?”

“Yes, yes it does. You’ve been studying!” The TARDIS smiled at her proudly.

“Before the sickness made me have to stop, yeah. H-how come I’m dying?” Really, she ought to be horrified by the idea, but she found she wasn’t exactly surprised.

“Well, you should have been dead already. You weren’t meant to live past the Game Station. You shouldn’t have been able to survive, holding the Time Vortex within you. Only I can do that. And you didn’t… survive, that is. You died, for a moment there anyway. But the Doctor and I, we both loved you so much. We couldn’t let you die. He gave up one of his regenerations to at least take the Time Vortex out of you. He hoped that he could save you, but he knew in his hearts that you would die. You held onto it for much longer than he did, and it killed him after only a few seconds of holding it. There was no way he could have saved you. And he didn’t want to go on like that without you.

He didn’t understand how you survived, it completely baffled him. Though, it did make him overjoyed. He thought that there must have been something very special about you. And he was right. Because no other human would have given up their life to save him like that. No one had ever won the heart of the TARDIS – my heart. And you did, Rose. I love you as much as he does… of course, not quite in the same way, but just as much. I couldn’t stand to see you die… to see the devastation it would cause him.

So, I bonded myself to you… I’ve never bonded to anyone before. Not the way we are. The Doctor and I are bonded. He’s my thief, my pilot, my Time Lord. When he dies, I die with him, but if I die, he will live on. Our bond… it’s both ways. We die when the other does. We can keep the other alive, or we can take them down as well. And with you in this universe, separated from us so completely. We may as well have been dead to one another. Our separation through the Void, it was slowly killing the both of us. I’m a little surprised you’ve lasted the year, but I’m glad. My Human is a fighter.”

“Okay, so… hold on, let me get this straight,” Rose said, holding up a hand to stay her. She could hardly comprehend what she was hearing. She felt as if her world had been flipped upside down by this revelation and her head was spinning. But at the same time, it just made so much sense. She’d always felt closer to the TARDIS after the Game Station, as if she could almost understand her. “So, I’ bonded to you… to the TARDIS, because I died from absorbing the Time Vortex. And because of the bond and being apart, we’re both dying. So, the only thing keeping me alive is being near you?”

“Yes, exactly!”

“S-so, are you taking me home then? Is that why you’re here? To take me back with you?” She couldn’t stop the hope creeping into her voice, but the TARDIS’s sad expression made it leave her in an instant.

“No.”

“No? But-”

“I can’t,” she whispered. “I want to, but I can’t. I don’t have enough energy. And I wouldn’t be able to bring your physical form across the Void without killing you. Besides, you don’t want to go back to where I am. If the Master ever got his hands on you…” She shivered, her face going pale, and Rose had the feeling that she wasn’t just imagining the possibilities, but actually seeing them happen. “Not to mention that most of the outcomes where we all make it out okay, time reverses a year back to the moment I jumped through to here. You would suffer a year of torture and sickness only to be thrown back here to die once more. No, no, no. Not happening.”

“Yeah, no. I’d rather not.” At this point, she was kind of just sitting there stunned on the couch. She was trying to deal with the shock of what was happening, along with information overload, so at this point, she had decided to just roll with the punches. “But, isn’t there some other way? I-I can’t just stay here! Not if I’m just going to die! I’m working on something, a Dimension Cannon. It’s supposed to teleport you between dimensions, but it’s not an exact science of where and when you land. Also, I don’t think it works unless the walls of the universe are breaking down, and I probably don’t have time for that, do I?”

“No, I don’t imagine you would. But there is something we can do. We can stop it!”

“…Stop what?” Rose asked when the TARDIS didn’t elaborate.

“Canary Wharf. The separation. We can stop it from ever happening. You never leave our home universe. This timeline would cease to exist, and the three of us can continue travelling the stars. The Doctor and Rose Tyler, in the TARDIS… as it should be.”

Rose’s eyebrows rose high. “What? How?! How would we do that?!” she said eagerly. She trusted the TARDIS beyond anything, the same as she trusted the Doctor. And it was a good thing that it was the TARDIS who was pitching her this idea because, at this point, she was willing to do anything to return to her home universe if it meant being with the Doctor in the TARDIS again. At times, she had even been willing to cause a paradox… Oh no. “It won’t cause a paradox, will it?”

The TARDIS smiled at her. “No, no it won’t. Paradoxes are caused when time is disrupted, but we won’t be disrupting it… we’re rewriting it. It will be a completely natural occurrence. See, the only part of you I can take back is your mind. And not only that, but the only way to ensure we don’t disrupt anything important is to take you all the way back… Back to the time you first stepped foot on the TARDIS.”

Rose started. “Wait, so I’m pretty much going to have to relive my life from after I first meet the Doctor? The whole two years?! …Or was it three?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“But… but I can’t do that!” She shot to her feet and began pacing restlessly. “I can’t just… do it all again knowing what happens. I can’t do nothing when I have the chance help people I couldn’t before. I can’t let innocent people die! And what about me? Young me? Do I just… take over my own body. What happens to the old me?”

“Rose, calm down. It will all be fine,” the TARDIS tried to soothe her. “Trust me. You’re not going to take over your own body, more… merge with it. You’ll still be that same wonderful nineteen-year-old girl… but at the same time, you will also still be this brilliant woman you are now… Oh, I’m not explaining it right. This would be much easier if I wasn’t using words. How do humans explain things so easily all the time?” Rose just shrugged. In her experience, explaining things wasn’t always easy, even for people who did talk all their lives. “Hmm, well, you will see what I mean soon anyway. As for saving people you couldn’t before… that can certainly happen. Most of the time anyway.”

Rose stopped her pacing, and her eyes brightened. “Wait, really?! What about causing paradoxes?”

“Well, that’s like I said. We’re rewriting, not disrupting. You can change what you like, so long as it doesn’t change the timelines too much. There are still certain things that brought us to where we were, and we still need to keep all that the same. And there are certain events, the deaths of certain people that shape the history of the universe. But so long as it doesn’t affect those, you can save whoever you can. I would never ask you not to help people when you can.” Another smile touched her lips. She was so glad that her Rose hadn’t changed and was just as passionate. That her time here in the parallel word hadn’t hardened her or worse.

“But, how would I know if I was changing something important or not?” Rose asked, looking a little panicked. “What if I change something, and – and… we end up not going somewhere we’re supposed to go! Or the Doctor decides he wants to take someone else instead of me! What if I screw it all up?!”

“Rose, relax,” the TARDIS found herself laughing. Oh, she liked that. But seeing her Human so panicked over it was quite adorable. She had every faith that Rose would do this perfectly. “I’ll be with you in your head. I can help. Of course, you’ll have to figure most things out on your own, make your own choices. But I can send you mental nudges and hints. Besides, I’m not your only tool. We have a bond, you took on the entire Time Vortex… Haven’t you noticed it yet? That feeling that you know what will happen if you decide to do something.”

“Y-yeah,” she said, thinking back. “Almost like I’m… guessing what can happen before it does. Mum kept telling me I should get a lottery ticket. Course, Dad always told her that was silly since we’re kinda really incredibly rich here…”

“Yes, exactly. Our bond had started to change your mind before you left. Had you kept travelling, it would have changed even more.”

“Seriously?” The idea pulled her up short. So, what? She would have become… psychic?

“Oh yes!” The gleeful tone that the TARDIS used with her own voice was so reminiscent of the Doctor that it made Rose grin. “There’s a couple of other things too. The Doctor can’t know. I know you won’t like the idea, and I don’t overly like it either, but the Doctor can’t know about what you’re doing. The longer you can keep it from him, the better. I fear that if he finds out, he might end up changing things too drastically.”

“But… what if he figures it out? He’s not just going to not notice. It’s the Doctor.”

“Hmm, that is true. I suppose it might be alright, depending on what he finds out and when. Of course, I will try and hinder his attempts. Oh! One other thing!” Here, the TARDIS grinned one of Rose’s cheeky tongue in cheek smiles. “When he asks you to travel with him… turn him down again.”

Rose baulked. “Wait, what? Why?!”

“So that he asks twice, of course. He did it last time. He’s never asked anyone to travel with him twice like that before. Usually, he offers once with the occasional ‘you sure’, and that’s it. But he went back five minutes later and asked a second time. He wanted you to travel with him so badly, it’s no wonder he fell for you so quickly. He thinks about that a lot.”

“Oh.” Rose couldn’t help the butterflies that fluttered madly about every time the TARDIS told her that the Doctor loved her, or mentioned how much he cared. It soothed like a balm, especially when she thought back to his cut off words on the beach. There were still times, even now, even being so sure what he was going to say, that she doubted he could ever love her back. She was only human, after all… But, no. She was more than that. Not just because of the TARDIS, she had always been more than just that.

Only, now she would be able to live well beyond human years since she was bonded to the TARDIS in a way that not even he was. Her eyes suddenly lit up. She knew that that was one of the only barriers that ever stopped them from becoming more. He’d practically admitted as much the time she’d met Sara Jane. She would live as long as the TARDIS!

“Hold on!” she gasped. “So, you die when the Doctor does?”

“Give or take a few years,” she replied with a nod.

“And I live as long as you do…”

“Yes.” Now the TARDIS was grinning, knowing that she had caught on.

“I can live as long as he will…”

“As long as everything goes alright and nothing happens to either of us, yes. You will.”

“…Oh my god, I’m going to live for hundreds of years!” she cried. She’d vaguely known this when the TARDIS told her, but the implications were now only just hitting her.

“You won’t age,’ the TARDIS assured her. “Not past a few more years anyway.” Then she finally seemed to notice the overwhelmed expression on Rose’s face. “I’m sorry. I had to bond us. It was the only way. We couldn’t lose you.”

“Do I look like I’m complaining?!” she cried, a disbelieving laugh bubbling up from her. “I just… Oh god. I think I just need time to adjust to it, yeah. It sounds… insane.”

“No more so than anything else you’ve seen since you met the Doctor.” She sounded confused by Rose’s bafflement.

“Yeah, but… nothing I considered impossible ever really happened to me, you know? Not like that, anyway. Or, at least, I didn’t think I had.”

“Oh, Rose Tyler, you have no idea-” The end of her sentence was cut off as she let out another sharp cry, doubling over with her arms curled around her middle in pain. Rose rushed to her immediately. It had been so long since that had last happened that she’d completely forgotten the TARDIS was in pain. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” the TARDIS gasped, sitting back up straight.

“You sure?” she asked, holding her steady. “What’s happening?”

“I believe… we are running out of time. I can’t hold this form much longer before it breaks back down into energy. We need to go now.”

“N-now? But what about my family?” Rose asked. “Won’t they wonder what happened? I can’t just not say goodbye.”

“It won’t matter,” the TARDIS said, trying for a small, reassuring smile, though it looked far more like a pained grimace. “We will be – hopefully be – completely cutting this reality, this timeline from existence. With any luck, you will never fall and never had the need to say goodbye to them at this point in time. And you will see Jackie and Mickey very soon. But we must go now. If I don’t get you back, we both die.”

Rose nodded firmly. Hearing those words, she imagined how devastated the Doctor would be without her or his beloved ship, and her already pretty firm resolve hardened. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Let’s do it. I want my Doctor back.”

The TARDIS smiled tiredly. She could practically taste her Human’s excitement, and that gave her the energy to pull them both to their feet.

“Good. Now, just remember, when you get back, we won’t be linked physically like we are now. Not until you absorb the Time Vortex again. But we will still be linked mentally. We can do this.”

Rose nodded, and the TARDIS placed her hands on her temples. She closed her eyes like she was concentrating, and Rose felt a harsh jolt in her mind as if she had just been shoved off a cliff…

And then she was gone.

Author Note:

As seems to be the rule with my rewritten scenes, this chapter almost doubled in length. From 2,404 to 4,691 words (4 → 8 pages). I was really proud of this update. Not just in my writing skills, but also in how I explained things a little clearer and made it flow nicer.

The original can still be read on fanfiction.net if you are interested to see how it’s changed.

Chapter Index  |  First Chapter  |   Next Chapter >>

[cake-writes]

Little Lies (Kentucky)

Pairings: Steve x Reader // Bucky x Reader (mentioned)

Chapter Warnings: Angst, Smut, Fluff, Oral (Receiving), 18+

Summary: You went to Bucky when you wanted punishment. He’d be rough with you because he understood your self-loathing, and he’d leave bruises on your hips that wouldn’t go away for a week. You loved it. He didn’t.

You went to Steve when you wanted reassurance. You went to him because he liked to whisper sweet, sweet things into your ear as he made love to you. He’d tell you that you were perfect and amazing and beautiful. Then you’d get your fill, just far too much of it. He cared too much.

It all came to a head when the three of you went on a mission together. You’d done it a hundred times, even during this mess of a situation, and still neither of them was any the wiser. Your little lies always slipped right through the cracks - until one night, they didn’t.

Master List

August 2015

Kentucky was absolutely sweltering. It was a hot summer, for one, and for two, Steve was from Brooklyn. He wasn’t used to such sticky, uncomfortable heat because New York summers were much milder than this and Germany’s were much of the same. He wasn’t used to the humidity, either, even after you’d managed to wrangle him into a tank top, cargo shorts, and flip-flops. It was much less stifling than his uniform or even his civvies, but he felt out of place in such bizarre, 21st century clothing.

Then again, that was exactly the point. He was undercover. You both were.

You, on the other hand, seemed right in your element as the two of you unloaded the moving van you’d just picked up a few miles away from one of Tony’s associates. It was stocked full of boxes – mostly empty ones, just for show – along with a couple pieces of furniture: table and chairs, a small sofa, and a bed.

You were wearing a tee shirt with some faded band logo on it – Steve didn’t recognize it – and a pair of short denim shorts. Those he recognized only because Sam had teased you about them right before the two of you left the compound – called them ‘Daisy Dukes,’ whatever that meant. You’d just winked at Sam, made a lasso motion with your hands and cheered, “yee-haw,” like a cowgirl. Then you and Sam shared a laugh. It was a reference that Steve clearly didn’t get, but that was fine. It gave him something to think about, to distract him from how short those shorts really were.

The flight to Kentucky had been fine. You hammed it up a bit, already putting on the newlywed façade – told the flight attendant that you’d just gotten married and darlin’, isn’t my new hubby just the greatest? and it flustered him. You were showing him off. Even if it wasn’t real, he couldn’t help but preen a little.

That said, there was no doubt in his mind that someone else would have better suited the role than him. The decision wasn’t up to him, though; there had quite literally been a vote to see who should take this mission, and he’d been selected the prime candidate because of course he was. Everyone thought it would be hilarious to shove you and him together in a box for a couple weeks, like some warped version of Seven Minutes in Heaven: you, the scandalous minx you were, and him, the prude.

Steve didn’t mind it, really. He was actually a little excited for it. Nervous, too. He was in love with you, had been for months now. He knew should have said no to the mission because of the clear conflict of interest but he didn’t.

His attraction to you started out as an objective appreciation for the way you could handle yourself in the field. He noticed the glimmer you got in your eyes from a fight, when you did something perfectly or landed a particularly good blow or when he saved your ass at the last minute. He noticed the excited flush that came over your cheeks and the mischievous look you got when you fought alongside him, the two of you working together so well that it was almost like an elaborate dance.  

He’d had always known how attractive you were in other ways, too. Every now and then, he’d catch the slip of a bra strap, or you’d lean over and your shirt would accidentally reveal far too much cleavage. Sometimes, you’d wear a short, tight dress and go out to a nightclub with Natasha, and he could barely keep his eyes off of you. Other times, the hint of your thong peeked out of the top of your tac pants. Not often.

He tried not to look. You drove him crazy.

The mission itself was the easy part. The two of you were undercover in this small Kentucky town to find out where some particularly important intel had been downloaded. Tony’s satellites had only been able to pinpoint it to a one block radius, which coincidentally was smack dab in the middle of suburbia.

Your new residence was a charming little house at the end of a cul-de-sac, two bedrooms, one bath. A white picket fence bordered the yard, with pretty pink and purple flowers blooming under the windowsills and in the front garden. The exterior was painted light blue and it seemed a bit older, likely heritage – almost looked like something from his childhood, if he was being honest.

The moment Steve saw it – really, truly took it in – it made him stop in his tracks.

Some people actually got to have lives like this. They married, settled down, popped out a couple of kids, maybe got a dog. They had normal, ordinary lives. He wondered for a moment if this was what it felt like.

Your shoulder brushed against his as you made your way up the paved driveway, carrying a big box. You were humming some tune he didn’t recognize. He just stood there like an idiot, watching you as you went inside to add the box to the ever-growing pile and when you came back out, you waved at someone – one of the nosy neighbours, no doubt.

Then you gave him a sweet smile. “Honey?”

God, the word was so, so sweet on your tongue and it made his heart race. Somehow, he managed to get out an easy, “Yeah, sweetheart?”

It felt so strange and unfamiliar to use such words of adoration for you, but he certainly didn’t mind it in the least. It felt nice. While he called you ‘doll’ every now and then out of habit, he tried not to out of respect for you. Now he didn’t need to hold back.

“Do you wanna come help me with this? I can’t lift it.”

“Of course,” he responded, readjusting his grip on the box in his arms before he started up the walkway.

You waited for him at the door. When he got there, you gave him another one of those sweet, disarming smiles, and then you kissed him on the cheek, batting your eyelashes at him.

It was an act, of course, to appease the nosy neighbours and it also helped the two of you blend in. You were just trying to sell the story, and he knew that – but this was a terrible idea. He wasn’t sure how long it would to take to finish the mission, but he hoped it was sooner rather than later. You were going to be the death of him with the pet names, the southern drawl, the skimpy outfits and, just – you.

The house was pretty much already stocked with anything either of you would need. There were two bedrooms, one for each of you, but you’d have to share a bathroom. That was fine, because you’d done it plenty of times before during other missions. It was actually pretty nice that you had your own rooms, for once, because you usually had to share a single motel room or set up camp somewhere outside.

The first night, you ordered takeout because that was pretty much a moving day tradition. The two of you joked around like usual and talked about all sorts of things, but none of them were really personal. You kept the conversation breezy and light, even when it drifted to the mission at hand. Over beer and pizza, the two of you developed a plan to canvas the area. You’d distract the neighbours while Steve got into their homes and searched for the intel. Easy as pie.

Quite literally.

Steve was a heavy sleeper, but he woke to the smell of warm apple pie wafting through the house. It was still relatively early, sun just rising above the horizon, but you were already putting the plan into action.

When he came downstairs, he caught a particularly nice view of your ass as you leaned over to pull the pie from the oven. You weren’t wearing those short denim shorts anymore, but a pair of tight high-waisted jeans and a crop top.

“Mornin’, sugar,” you said with a wink.

It caught him off guard. He remembered that the two of you were undercover, but it wasn’t necessary behind closed doors like this. You were purposely trying to get a rise out of him.

He gave you a deadpan look, but he still felt his cheeks flush and, when he saw your eyes shine mischievously, he knew you’d noticed it too.

“Didn’t realize apple pie counted as breakfast nowadays,” he commented.

“Come on, Cap. We deep fry everything nowadays. Of course it’s breakfast,” you told him, laughing. He studied your face for a moment, and then, when he actually went to reach for the freshly baked pie, like this was yet some more knowledge that he’d never learnt while he was frozen – you gently pulled his hand away. “Oh, no, I’m sorry, Rogers. It’s for our cover.”

You rarely apologized for anything, but for this – for him, you did. The fact that he’d been frozen for so many years wasn’t something to joke about to you, even if it was unintentional. You hadn’t meant to make a joke of it.

Steve looked a little surprised by that. It didn’t really bother him all that much when people made jokes at his expense. Sensitive topic, absolutely, but the jokes were never malicious and he knew that. It was more prodding fun at the fact that while yes, he’d certainly missed a lot, it also meant that people were looking out for him, suggesting to him things that he should look into.

Your warm fingers lingered on his hand just a little longer than they should have.

He shook his head. “Don’t worry. I’m used to it. There’s a lot of stuff I need to catch up on.”

“Got a list going, huh?” you teased.

“Yeah, actually,” he said with a grin, pulling a small notebook out of his pocket. “Sure do.”

That morning, the two of you went through his list one by one, and you gave some comments and suggestions of your own. Instead of writing them himself, like he usually did, he relinquished the pen and paper to you.

Steve inadvertently wound up saving those notes, and on particularly bad days, he found himself studying every curve of your handwriting, like it held whatever answer he was seeking.

Over the next few days, he came to realize that you were purposely fucking with him.

You’d always been a tee shirt and jeans kind of girl, at least in the couple of years he’d known you, but for this mission all you wore were cute, dainty outfits. You started wearing floral dresses or the occasional blouse and skirt, paired with light makeup and heels. You hardly ever wore makeup or heels unless you were going out with Natasha.

You were playing a character. He knew that. But seeing you in such a different light, so sweet and girly, it did something to him. It sparked something in him – or maybe it just added fuel to the fire that was already burning for you.

He’d always treated you respectfully, at least he liked to think so. Even though he’d had an undeniable attraction to you for a long time – longer than he’d been in love with you – he’d always treated you like an agent first and a woman second. Seeing you like this, though, it made that an extremely difficult task to accomplish, especially when you were calling him, “Honey,” and “Baby,” and introducing him to your new neighbours as your husband.

He loved seeing that ring on your left ring finger. There was a matching one on his, and a large part of him wished it was real.

After about a week, neither of you had made any headway in your mission yet. The two of you had tried multiple residences nearby, now, but no luck so far. It became routine, almost, the way you went about your days.

Steve was a morning person. He woke early to go for a run, much earlier than you, even before the sun started to rise. The small house you shared was a little older, and the floorboards creaked as he crept past your room to go downstairs in the early hours. It never failed to wake you, but hearing the gentle creaking every morning soon became a comfort that you never realized you’d miss until after it was gone.

You, on the other hand, were a night owl. You stayed up late on the sofa downstairs, using your work tablet to investigate new leads and potential suspects well after Steve went to bed. Of course, that only did so much to distract you from the fact that the eerie quiet of the small town got to you. It made you relive memories you’d rather forget.

When you were alone, that was when you suffered most. Unfortunately, Bucky wasn’t here to help you. You’d only recently discovered how good he was at making you forget, but for this, you’d just have to make do on your own like you’d done for so long already.

It was more difficult than ever before.

You followed Steve up to bed once, with every intention of starting something you knew you shouldn’t. He was in the middle of brushing his teeth when he found you standing at the top of the stairs, staring at him in a way that just a little bit unsettling.

He pulled his toothbrush from his mouth and asked, “What’s the matter, doll?”

He was too sweet. You lost your nerve.

“Forgot my phone,” you said blankly, before you held it up like it was proof that your intention hadn’t been anything but innocuous.  

Steve just shrugged and went back to brushing his teeth, completely oblivious as to what you’d nearly done. You’d nearly crossed a line that shouldn’t be crossed. Not again. You’d already done it with Bucky. You didn’t need to do it with Steve, too.

Despite it all, some nights you needed to be held – especially here in this awful quiet town that made it so easy for you to lose yourself in your memories. You needed to be treated sweetly, and in a lot of ways, Steve did that for you. Not intentionally, of course; just a kind look here, a gentle hand on your lower back there, not to mention the praise he offered you sometimes. He often told you after missions that you’d done a good job.

Good job. From his lips, it almost sounded like he was saying good girl.

What really did it for you, though, was that you didn’t even have to say a thing for Steve to know you were doing your best. He didn’t know you, not really, aside from one single side of you that he knew almost too well – the small part of you that wanted his praise, along with his acceptance of your mistakes. Steve had seen you make a number of them over the past couple of years, and despite them all, he always treated you so kindly. He never judged you or blamed you for them.

You never, ever let anyone else see you that way, let alone Bucky because if he did, then he’d have seen far too much. You only let people have a glimpse of who you truly were here and there, because if they saw too many sides of you, then they’d be able to piece together who you really were deep down. It wasn’t pretty.

You offered Bucky the dangerous, broken part of yourself, the one that killed and murdered and didn’t feel a lick of remorse. You got him to punish you, ruin you, break you, because that was what that part of you deserved – and he was so, so good at it. You loved him for it. You thanked him. That side of you well and truly belonged to him. You never showed it to anyone else.  

Not that you’d ever tell him that.

The other part of you that Steve got to see – the sweet, clueless girl who did her best and it just wasn’t good enough sometimes – that part of you was all his.

Not that you’d ever tell him that, either.

Your weakest point was always late at night when you were alone. You found yourself coming closer and closer to climbing into Steve’s bed more frequently as the days passed, but you held strong. Somehow, you managed.

Sometimes you stopped yourself when you got to the top of the stairs, staring at his closed bedroom door. Other times, you found yourself in his bedroom, taking in every bit of his peaceful, sleeping face. Once and only once, you ran your fingers through his hair and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. On that particular night, you very nearly hadn’t stopped there – but you managed.

You always managed.

During the day, you put on a façade just like you’d always done. It was routine. It almost felt normal to do this – to cohabitate, to get groceries and toilet paper, to worry about how your lemon bars were going to turn out today – but you never let yourself fall too deep into that normal, ordinary line of thinking because you knew how hard it would be to pull yourself out of it.

Every day, Steve went for an early morning jog, and after he’d come back and showered, you finally started to rouse. By the time you sluggishly made your way downstairs, he was in the kitchen fixing breakfast for the two of you. He never failed to have a hot cup of coffee waiting for you with the exact amount of cream and sugar you liked.

It was the same every day, and some part of you – that sweet, clueless girl – loved every part of it. The normalcy. The domesticity.  

Your pet names for each other started to become insufferable in the best way. You used to greet him with normal ones – honey, baby, sweetheart – and he did the same. As the days passed, though, in private the two of you got more and more ridiculous to the point that you made each other laugh with them. And, every now and then when one of them slipped out in public, it only added to your newlywed persona.

“Good morning, honeybun,” you said airily, taking a seat at the counter where you’d plugged in your work tablet the night before.  

Steve gave you a grin just like he always did when you said a particularly silly one. “Morning, gorgeous.”

He didn’t blush as easily anymore when he said such sweet things to you. You assumed that he must have just gotten used to it, but it was a little bit disappointing. You loved to rile him up.

As he dished up two plates of pancakes, you took a sip of the coffee he made for you and scrolled through the new intel from HQ that had come through during the night. There wasn’t much, just another potential location to check out.

After a quick breakfast, Steve did check it out, and it was yet another dead end. It was well into the afternoon by the time he was finished. On your side of things, you spent the day distracting the residents of that particular home so that Steve could get in and out unseen.  

You met up a block away, and on your way back to your new home, you remembered that you needed to pick something up for dinner. The two of you took a detour to the corner store where you usually got your groceries.

Steve was wearing his favourite baseball cap and sunglasses, and you were in a particularly flattering sundress and wedge heels. The mid-afternoon weather was lovely – hot, but not quite as sweltering as most other days. It was nice.

It was almost second nature at this point for you to reach out and lace your fingers with his. The first time you’d done it, he looked surprised as hell and the flush that came across his face made your heart race. Now, he just offered you a small smile and pressed a kiss to the back of your hand like he’d done it a thousand times before.

It still made your heart race.  

All things considered, it seemed like a normal day – except it wasn’t. You should have noticed the extra staff at the corner store. You should have noticed the bulk around their waists – guns – but you didn’t. You were too focused on what to make for dinner. For the first time in a very, very long time, you let your guard down. You forgot.

Steve did notice, but it took him a little longer than normal, too. When you felt his familiar hand on your lower back press against you just a little more firmly, you immediately knew something was up but you continued to act like everything was just peachy, even when he whispered into your ear, “We need to go.”

You didn’t have to be told twice. You grabbed a couple of random things from the shelves: two tins of beans, a bag of chips, and a candy bar, and then the two of you made your way to the register. You paid in cash. Steve carried the bag for you on the way out.

It wasn’t difficult to notice the two men on your tail. Your cover was blown. Somehow, your cover was blown and you hadn’t even fucking noticed because you were too distracted by this newlywed façade. You were too distracted by what it felt like to be normal.

Steve took your small hand in his free one, then, and gave you a gentle squeeze – as if to reassure you. When you glanced over at him, the way he smiled at you made your heart flutter just a little.

This isn’t your fault. Stop worrying. It’ll be fine.

You believed him.  

You made your way to another house, one that had no cars in the driveway and no garage. Hopefully no one was home. It was some random residence a couple of blocks away from your safe house, but you picked the lock so quickly that it looked like you were just opening the door with a regular key. Then you and Steve walked inside like that was where you’d been living this whole time.

You watched from the second-floor window as the two men on your trail radioed something in, probably your location – and then you both slipped out the back and hopped the fence. It was a little higher than you’d normally be able to scale, and Steve helped lift you over. He put his hands around your waist to lift you up, first, but you still couldn’t quite reach, so you quickly told him, “Grab my ass, Rogers.”

Steve’s grip noticeably faltered at your request and your sundress fluttered in the breeze, but he did as you asked – slid his hands from your waist to your barely-covered ass and soft thighs, which provided just enough height and leverage to finally pull yourself over the fence.

When you landed on the other side, you felt like you’d just run a marathon. His touch had been so hot, almost burning, and he’d gripped you so firmly, so close to where you’d been wanting him to touch you for what felt like ages that wet, sticky heat had started to pool in between your legs.

Neither of you discussed it.

The run home was fast, but silent and uncomfortable. You didn’t speak much, and neither did he. You shared a dinner of canned beans and potato chips, but neither of you had much of an appetite. You needed to figure out what to do, now, but you barely had a chance to discuss it when the loud sound of an explosion shook your quaint little safe house.

You both immediately knew what it was.

The perp – whoever the hell it was – had blown up the house the two of you had gone to earlier. It wasn’t your house. It belonged to some random family. You could recall seeing their photos on the walls, a happy family of four.

Steve said something to you, but it didn’t really register. He pulled on his uniform and went to check it out. That didn’t really register, either. All you could focus on was the fact that you’d very likely gotten people killed because you’d been too stupid and distracted to notice that your cover was blown.

By the time he returned, you had turned on the news to find that the explosion was being blamed on a gas leak. The grim expression on his face told you that definitely wasn’t the case, but you already knew that.

A couple more hours passed in silence as you stared blankly at the television. You weren’t watching it. You weren’t paying attention at all. Instead, you were reliving every single mistake in your career and as much as Steve desperately wanted to reach out and hold you, help you feel better, ease your pain, he didn’t.

Things like this always hit you hard, but you never wanted comfort. You always had to handle it yourself. He’d tried in the past to help – told you that it wasn’t your fault, gently rubbed your back – and you’d shoved him away. You didn’t want to be coddled. You didn’t need it.

Except tonight, you did.

Steve went to bed first, sometime after eleven. It wasn’t that the night’s events didn’t bother him, because they certainly did. He’d just experienced things like this a lot more than you, especially during the war, and he knew how to compartmentalize. Somehow, he could still sleep at night, whereas he knew you probably wouldn’t get a wink of it.

He’d help you pack in the morning. He’d contact HQ. He’d write up the mission report. He’d do all of it for you, because he loved you. He’d do anything for you.

Sometime in the middle of the night, you stopped resisting your impulses. You crept up the stairs and, for a brief moment, paused as you stared at Steve’s closed bedroom door for what was probably the umpteenth time.

Your heartbeat was pounding in your ears as you slowly turned the doorknob and stepped inside.

The moonlight was streaming through the open curtains onto the bed, where you found him fast asleep. Of course he was. He’d always been a heavy sleeper, even now.

You brushed away a few strands of hair stuck to his forehead, and he almost seemed to lean into your touch; then you trailed your fingers down his bare chest, further south, pushing his sheets back along the way. The only thing he was wearing was a pair of soft plaid sleep pants that you’d teased him about once – said they suited him, the old man he was.

Right now, though, they were almost too low on his hips. Must have shifted sometime during the night.

His skin was damp to the touch from the summer heat. As your eyes trailed over him in the moonlight, you had a fleeting thought of how perfect he was and you stopped holding yourself back.

Your lips were hot on the sweat-slicked skin of his abdomen. He tasted like salt and smelled like heaven – like soap and fresh laundry, clean, with the slightest undertone of musk.

It turned you on.

You kissed your way up his body until he stirred with the softest, quietest moan, his muscles shifting under your touch. You didn’t stop. Instead, you met his dazed, half-lidded eyes with a sinful smile.

“Wait, wait,” he breathed, fumbling to take your hands into his. His voice was rough from sleep. “Talk to me, doll. Please.”

You didn’t.  

Instead, you nudged your dress out of the way and straddled his hips, which let you feel exactly how much you’d affected him. His cock was rock hard and straining against his pajama pants, and you did nothing to soothe it. Instead, you rolled your hips against him.

“Sweetheart,” he groaned, his head lulling back against the pillow. “It’s been a bad night. We shouldn’t.”

He didn’t mean it.

When you laced your fingers with his, he was so receptive – squeezed your hands right back, especially when you leaned down to kiss him. Your breasts nearly spilled out of your bra when they fell against his chest. With your dress half-unbuttoned, you saw his eyes flicker down to your cleavage for a split second before he looked back up at your face in awe, cheeks flushed, lips parted.

You kissed him, then, softly and sweetly, and sighed against his mouth, “Make me forget.”

Almost instantly, his hands left yours to cup the sides of your face, and he kissed you so deeply, so passionately that all you could think about was him. His lips were soft, but his kisses weren’t, especially when his tongue swept into your mouth as if to claim you, make you his, make you forget.

Then he trailed his fingers down the sides of your body, feeling every inch of you against him before they settled on your hips. He held you in place as he ground his hips up into yours, and you gasped against his mouth, relishing in the feeling of his hard cock against your folds – clothed or not.

The way he gathered you in his arms and lay you down on your back was sweet and gentle. He peppered kisses down your neck and torso as he finished unbuttoning your dress, before it was off entirely, discarded haphazardly to the floor – and then he sat back on his heels to just look at you.

You weren’t fully revealed to him yet, still wearing a lacy peach-pink bra and panties, but you felt absolutely naked in front of him. You were attractive, you knew that much – but the way his eyes took in every single one of your curves made your face flush like that stupid, clueless girl that had gotten people killed tonight.  

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered as he leaned in to kiss you again.

Something about the way he said it made you want him even more and you whined – actually whined – against his lips, “Baby, please.”  

Jesus Christ, he could have come right then.

Instead, he pulled away just enough to press a kiss to your stomach, your navel, your hip – and then he tugged your panties down and off before he buried his face between your thighs. He’d been wanting to worship your body for ages, and you deserved it now more than ever.

Your reaction was immediate. You gasped and writhed against his mouth, so much that he had to firmly hook his arms around your legs to hold you in place. You were so god damn responsive and it drove him crazy, especially when you gripped his hair in your fingers and pulled him closer to grind your perfect pussy against his face.

The taste of you was intoxicating – sweet, just a little tart – and he barely even realized what he was doing when he slid two fingers inside of you. Not one to start like he normally would have, but two, because you were so fucking soaked and desperate for him already.

“Stevie,” you whimpered when he curled his fingers up in a particular spot that sent you reeling.

God, he loved the sound of his name on your lips.

“Does that feel good?” he cooed against your slick folds, his hot breath sending a chill through you.

“Yeah,” you responded breathily, and you whimpered when he did it again. “Yeah, honey, just like that—”

Honey.

The word spurred him on and he went right back to devouring you, his tongue circling your clit as his fingers curled roughly against your g-spot over and over. It brought you higher and higher and higher until he couldn’t hold you down anymore and your back arched off the sheets, legs shaking against his shoulders as you came with a sharp cry.

When you collapsed back against the sheets, he crawled up your body to see your flushed, fucked-out face. Before he kissed you again, he went to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand out of consideration for you – but instead, you tugged on his arm and pulled him down to settle in between your thighs.

“Kiss me like that,” you told him, and he readily complied. You could taste yourself on his lips, but you didn’t care; all you cared about was the sharp breath he took in as you slid your hand into his pants and wrapped your fingers around him. His cock was hot, thick, and heavy in your palm, and you wanted him inside of you.

Your other hand slid his pajama pants down just enough to pull him out entirely, and then you ran the head of his cock back and forth through your slick folds.

Steve broke away from the kiss to lean his forehead against your shoulder. His voice was unsteady when he started, “If you’re not sure—”

But you just wrapped your legs around his waist, then, and used the leverage to drag him inside of you. All you could manage was the tip because of the angle, but at your eagerness, he actually growled – deep and feral before he slid the rest of the way inside in one fluid motion.

“Fuck, Stevie,” you gasped, “You feel so good—”

Then his lips were on yours again, swallowing every single word you wanted to say. He wasn’t rough, but he wasn’t exactly gentle either as his hips rocked into yours so easily – almost like this was meant to happen, like the two of you should have been doing this all along. His tongue dominated your mouth as his hands caressed your body all over, palming your breasts, your hips, your thighs as he made love to you.

That’s exactly what it was. You knew it, and he did, too.

The realization of that brought you to the brink almost in an instant.

When he hiked one of your legs up higher around his waist, you felt even closer – both to him, and to your orgasm. It was intimate. It was perfect. The new angle was incredibly deep, and his cock reached spots inside of you that you’d never even known about before.

You broke away from his mouth to bury your face in his shoulder, arms wrapped tight around his neck. “I’m close, god, I’m so fucking close, Steve—”

Judging by the way he was throbbing so much inside you, he was close, too. His breath was hot on the shell of your ear when he rasped, “Where do you want it?”

“Inside,” you gasped, your nails digging into his back. “Fill me up, honey, please.”

His hands gripped your thighs even more firmly as he held you in place, his thrusts stuttering just a little at the knowledge that you didn’t want him to pull out, no—you wanted him to come inside you. You wanted him to fill you up. You wanted him to give you every single fucking drop of his cum.

“Fuck, Steve, I’m coming, I’m coming—” you babbled mindlessly against his neck, wrapping your legs around him even tighter as you reached your peak, pleasure cascading around you in waves.

Those breathless moans paired with your walls clenching down on him so tightly were what pushed him over the edge, and he buried himself to the hilt, filling you up just like you’d begged him for with a groan of your name right into your ear. It might have been the sexiest thing you’d ever heard in your life, but your mind was blissfully blank.

He left to get you a washcloth to clean up – the two of you had made a mess after all – and unlike how you’d been with Bucky, you let Steve take care of you. You needed it.

After he wiped you clean, you curled so snugly into his side, using his chest as a pillow. He pressed gentle kisses to the crown of your head and muttered sweet nothings to you, and his soothing voice eased you to sleep.

For the first time in a very long time, Steve overslept.

At first, he thought he forgot to turn on his alarm. Then he remembered that it automatically set itself every morning. He didn’t forget to turn it on. 

You’d purposely turned it off.

He knew that because by the time he woke, you were gone. He found a note from you downstairs, on the kitchen counter where you used to have breakfast every morning.

Headed to my next mission. See you around, Rogers.

It was that same curly handwriting as what you’d written in his little notebook. He recognized it in an instant, but when he realized what you meant by it – that this was a one-time thing, a moment of weakness, a lapse of judgement – he couldn’t say it didn’t sting.

What hurt worse was that, when he tried calling you, it went straight to voicemail and when he sent you texts, you read and then ignored them.

You brushed him off, because you got what you wanted.

He made you forget.

Master List

[douchebagbrainwaves]

I'VE BEEN PONDERING ANYONE

Because kids are unable to create wealth, but to spend it doing fake work. Life is short, as everyone knows. And what drives them both is the number of startups are created to do product development on spec for some big company, and assume you could build something way easier to use. You could also rob banks, or solicit bribes, or establish a monopoly. In any period, it should be helpful to anyone who wants to understand the feeling of virtue in liking them. Plenty of famous founders have had some failures along the way. A few weeks ago I finally figured it out.1 03% false positives.2

That makes sense, because programs are in effect giant descriptions of how things get made. Treating a startup idea as a question changes what you're looking for. In school you are, in theory, explaining yourself to someone else. We're more patient. Moral fashions don't seem to get sued much by established competitors. Once you realize how little most people judging you care about judging you accurately—once you realize that because of the normal distribution of most applicant pools, it matters least to judge accurately in precisely the cases where judgement has the most effect—you won't take rejection so personally. The space of possible choices is smaller; you tend to standardize everything. What VCs should be looking for companies that hope to win by writing great software, but there is no permanent place in this world for ugly mathematics? In fact, you don't take a position and then defend it. This one may not always be true. It hadn't occurred to me till then that those horrible things we had to read in English classes was mostly fiction, so I know most won't listen.

This second group adopt the fashion not because they want to work for people with high standards. This is a talk I gave at the last minute I cooked up this rather grim talk. When a company starts misbehaving, smart people won't work there. So verbs with initial caps have higher spam probabilities than they would in all lowercase. And the source of error is not just random variation, but a Times Roman lowercase g is easy to tell apart.3 Such judgements can of course counter by sending a crawler to the site, you wouldn't need PR firms to tell you, because hackers would already be writing stuff on top of it. Cultivate a habit of questioning assumptions.4 Nature uses it a lot, which is the satisfaction of people's desires. When watches had mechanical movements, expensive watches kept better time. But something seems to come with practice.

So even in the middle of getting rich we were fighting off the grim reaper. It seems like it violates some kind of answer. Wouldn't it be amazing if we could achieve a 50% success rate? It's more a question of self-preservation.5 You have to do whatever seems best at each point. So my first prediction about the future of web startups.6 It's not just an airy intangible. Everyone's model of work you grew up with a million dollar idea is just a convenient way of trading one form of wealth for another. That is certainly true.

So odds are this is, in projects of their own. When I heard about this work I was a kid I used to calculate probabilities for tokens, both would have the same kind of office or rather, hacker opinion.7 So obviously that is what we are, founders think.8 It's absolute poverty you want to get real work done in an office with cubicles, you have to say, are evil. Mostly because they're optimistic by nature. I'm going to try to recast one's work as a single thesis. And so began the study of ancient texts had such prestige that it remained the backbone of education until the late 19th century. I met some investors that had invested in a hardware device and when I asked them what was the most significant thing they'd observed, it was mostly political. But while DH levels don't set a lower bound on the convincingness of a reply, they do set an upper bound, bearing in mind the small sample size. The remarkable thing about this project was that he got in trouble for.9 It was only after hearing reports of friends who'd done it that they decided to start a startup to starting one, and eventually someone will discover it.10 They may be enough to kill all the opt-in lists.

The church knew this would set people thinking. Since the invention of the quartz movement, an ordinary Timex is more accurate than a Patek Philippe costing hundreds of thousands of dollars. The reason is not just text; it has structure. An office environment is supposed to be something that helps you work, not something you read looking for a specific answer, and feel cheated if you don't have significant success to cheer you up, it wears you out: Your most basic advice to founders is just don't die, but the thousand little things the big company doesn't want to imagine a world in which high school students think they need to get good grades to impress employers, within which the employees waste most of their time in political battles, and from which consumers have to buy anyway because there are so many kinks in the plumbing now that most people don't even realize is there. There's nothing special about physical embodiments of control systems that should make them patentable, and the examiners reply by throwing out some of your claims and granting others. I learnt never to bet on any one feature or deal or anything to bring you success. Underneath the long words or the expressive brush strokes, there is no way to get rich. These get through because they're the one type of sales pitch you can make enormous gains playing around in problem-space. But you have to redefine the problem to make them irrelevant. In more organized societies, like China, the ruler and his officials used taxation instead of confiscation. Every engraver since Durer has had to live in Silicon Valley, that use of the word, Bill Gates is middle class.

So what to make of this. Few people are suited to running a startup can be demoralizing. I think things are changing. The problem is compounded by the fact that hackers, despite their reputation for social obliviousness, sometimes put a good deal of effort into seeming smart. But though it's not anger that's driving the increase in disagreement, there's a danger that they'll follow a long, hard path that ultimately leads nowhere. In the period just before the industrial revolution, some of the most pointless of all the great programmers I can think of who don't work for Sun, on Java, I know of zero. Descartes, though claimed by the French, did much of his thinking in Holland.11 But hackers use their offices for more than that.

Boston is a tech center to the same cause: Gates and Allen wanted to move back to Palo Alto, where he grew up, and they tend to do particularly well, because they're easier to see, because they generally don't die loudly and heroically. I'd spent more time with her. One of the most valuable thing they've discovered. But the breakage seems to affect software less than most other fields. England and France were made by courtiers who extracted some lucrative right from the crown—like the right to collect taxes on the import of silk—and so they don't try do to it. All the unfun kinds of wealth creation slow dramatically in a society that confiscates private fortunes. I mean by habits of mind you invoke on some field don't have to do is expand it. When a politician says his opponent is mistaken, that's a sure sign that something is broken?

Notes

That's one of those you can, Jeff Byun mentions one reason not to be, yet. The reason for the popular vote. 5 million cap, but instead to explain that the payoff for avoiding tax grows hyperexponentially x/1-x for 0 x 1. Something similar happens with suburbs.

There are successful women who don't aren't. His critical invention was a company selling soybean oil or mining equipment, such a baleful stare as they seem pointless. I think that's because delicious/popular with voting instead of hiring them. Security always depends more on the spot, so had a broader meaning.

Though most founders start out excited about the other: the company than you otherwise would have seemed shocking for a block or so. MITE Corp.

Perhaps this is a huge, analog brain state.

So how do they decide on the programmers, the more effort you expend on the dollar. After the war it was briefly in Britain in the right mindset you will fail. If you want to.

The only launches I remember are famous flops like the other hand, he took earlier. And journalists as part of the War on Drugs. As usual the popular image is several decades behind reality.

Something similar happens with suburbs. Com. It seems to have minded, which you ultimately need if you want to keep their wings folded, as I explain later. Cost, again.

I have about thirty friends whose opinions I care about valuations in angel rounds can make it a function of the venture business. When the Air Hits Your Brain, neurosurgeon Frank Vertosick recounts a conversation reaches a certain level of incivility, the increasing complacency of managements. For founders who go on to create giant companies not seem formidable early on. There's probably also the perfect point to spread the story a bit.

At this point for me do more with less, is that the only audience for your present valuation is fixed at the end of the kleptocracies that formerly dominated all the free OSes first-rate programmers. Most people let them mix pretty promiscuously. This is a self fulfilling prophecy.

Handy that, isn't it? We don't call it ambient thought.

Watt didn't invent the spreadsheet. If you extrapolate another 20 years. At first I didn't need to run spreadsheets on it, by encouraging people to claim that they'll only invest contingently on other sites. It is the fact that the graph of jobs is not always tell this to users, you've started it, whether you have to make software incompatible.

[lostinshawnsmemory]

Figure You Out: Chapter 3 - Shawn x African OC

A/N: This chapter is very music heavy. I’m also introducing a lot of songs that aren’t that well known seeing as they’re afrobeat songs.  All the songs used are linked in the fic playlist and while you don’t necessarily have to listen to them, it adds to the story and makes reading some of the lyrics easier as they aren’t in English (there aren’t translations but there is a reason for that) and I would highly recommend it.  They’re also just really good songs and if you’re looking for new music I got you. 

Word Count: 4.3k

Warning(s): None 

MASTERLIST 

Series Masterlist

Fic Playlist

University was difficult and it took Tolani a really short amount of time to figure that out. Looking at the course requirements she could tell that the weeks to come were going to be intense, but so far it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle. Her coursemates were friendly enough but 2 days of lectures didn’t yield any friendships and she could tell that it wasn’t going to happen so quickly.

One thing she couldn’t tell though was how she felt about Shawn. They’d talked on and off after their coffee date a few days prior, but their relationship, if you could call it that, was not clearly defined. ‘Tolani you’ve known him for five minutes, you don’t need to have clearly defined parameters just yet.’

Seated at the desk staring at some of her required reading that she was pretending to pay attention to, her mind went back to their conversation at the coffee shop and the list of songs that he gave her. She never got round to listening to them and this was as good a time as any even though there was work she should’ve been doing. She opened Spotify, searched for Lost in Japan, put in her earphones and pressed play. The song wasn't what she was expecting, the piano intro felt warm and relaxing and by the time the beat kicked in she had a smile on her face. He sang about a girl who was in a different time zone but she didn’t care about the girl, the thing that made her connect with the song was the beat. It was funky and rhythmic bass had her bopping along to the song. By the time the bridge started, she was already mouthing some of the words. When the song finished she couldn't resist picking up her phone and texting him.

Tolani: Okay sooooooo Lost in Japan is one of the coolest songs I’ve ever heard.

Shawn: Really?

Tolani: No seriously. It’s so cool and funky and I’ve also learnt half the lyrics.

Shawn: That fast? 😮

Tolani: What can I say? I really like the song. 🤷🏾‍♀️

Shawn: What about the other songs?

Tolani: Currently just Lost in Japan, but now I’m insanely curious about the rest.

Shawn: I’m expecting a full break down of each song.

Tolani: I did say I would critique them. 😉

Where Were You in The Morning, was a completely different vibe. It was more of a bluesy R&B track and a lot more in line with what Tolani usually listened to. It wasn’t the type of song she would’ve associated with Shawn, proof that there was more to him than meets the eye. She couldn’t deny that she really liked the song, so much so that she played it again when the song was done.

Tolani: Okay who is she?

Shawn: You listened to Where Were You in the Morning didn’t you? 🤨

Tolani: Yup

Shawn: And you’re not going to stop till you know?

Tolani: Of course not 😉

Shawn: I could deflect and you’ll never know

Tolani: You could, but you won’t

Shawn: How do you know? 🤨

Tolani: Call it a lucky guess.🤷🏾‍♀️

Shawn: I regret telling you to listen to it 🤦‍♂️

Tolani: That’s too bad Mendes

Shawn: You want the truth?

Tolani: Of course I do!!

Shawn: What if I don't’ tell you? 😏

Tolani: Then I’ll keep hounding you.

Shawn: I’ll take any excuse for you to keep talking to me, so it’s a win-win 🤷‍♂️

Tolani: Just so you know, I happen to like talking to you.

Shawn: First of all, thank you. Second of all, it isn’t working.

Tolani: You saw right through that? 🙃

Shawn: I did.

Tolani: So I guess I’ll switch tactics.

Shawn: How so?

Tolani: I’ll never speak to you again.

Shawn: Wooooow brutal 😳

Tolani: Spill Mendes

Shawn: Fine.

Shawn:…..

Tolani: I’m waiting

Shawn: You want an answer? 😏

Tolani: I really do.

Shawn: Honestly? She was a girl I met at a party and she made it seem like she wanted more but apparently not. 🤷‍♂️

Tolani: Not the story I was expecting 😕

Shawn: Kinda underwhelming?

Tolani: A little bit yeah.

Shawn: Well I’m a songwriter, I embellish when needed.

Tolani: Either way I love the song. It’s got the same vibe as Lost in Japan but it’s more R&B-esque.. It’s R&B adjacent!!!

Shawn: That‘s the perfect way to describe it. I’m stealing that 👏

Tolani: You may, although, I require royalties.

Shawn: Done

Tolani: On to the next one. And by the way, I really do like talking to you Shawn. 😊

Shawn: I like talking to you too T ❤️

Memories was completely different from the previous ones. It was an emotional piano ballad that made Tolani tear up more times than she would’ve liked to admit. There was something about that song that stood out from the rest and she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was. It was the perfect blend of emotional and powerful.

Tolani: Scratch that Memories is the most beautiful song I’ve ever heard.

Shawn: Why Thank you! 😁

Tolani: How old were you when you wrote that?!

Shawn: 14/15-ish

Tolani: Excuse me while I crumble under the weight of my own talentlessness and have a minor existential crisis. 🤯😭

Shawn: Hahaha. I’m sure you’re not completely talentless. Maybe a little talentless

Tolani: I know I jokingly say I’m going to block you, but this time I really mean it, but on a serious note, this song is perfect and I love it

Shawn: Noted 😊

30 minutes and some messages later, Tolani had listened to all the songs Shawn had listed and she was surprised at how much she liked his music.. ‘He’s incredibly talented.’ she thought as she went to put her phone on the table, but before she could it started vibrating more so than usual. She’d spent the better part of the past few days deleting Instagram comments and DM’s but they just kept coming and they were all the same. Asking her who she was, and how she knew Shawn. It was getting exhausting being bombarded with questions that didn’t warrant a response. Not because she was hiding anything rather that there was nothing to talk about. ‘Shawn and I are friends, or something akin to friends anyway.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Tell that to hundreds of fans in my Instagram comments.’ She knew she should probably say something to Shawn but it wasn’t anything that she couldn’t handle for the time being.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Shawn: Are you free tomorrow?

Tolani: Are you asking me out again already? 🤨

Shawn: After our coffee date, I said and I quote “I’ll definitely ask you out again” so this is me asking you out again.

Tolani: One would think that you like me 🤔

Shawn: Maybe I do. 🤷‍♂️😉

Tolani: What’s up…

Shawn: I’m in need of a good DJ

Tolani: First of all, that’s vague. Second of all, what makes you think that’s me?

Shawn: I have a feeling… I also have great intuition (You also said you like music)

Tolani: Your ego never takes a day off 🙄

Shawn: I don’t know what you mean…. I’m incredibly humble 🤭

Tolani: Only twitter thinks that Shawn

Shawn: Ouch that one really hurt my feelings 🙃

Tolani: Sorry about that

Shawn: Apology accepted.

Tolani: Are you going to tell me what’s going on?

Shawn: What if I said it’s a surprise?

Tolani: What if I told you that I hate surprises?

Shawn: I wouldn’t be shocked. Do you like surprises though?

Tolani: I don’t not like them 😝

Shawn: Are you willing to endure this one?

Tolani: Against my better judgement, I am.

Shawn: Great. I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 2 o’clock

Tolani: Shawn…

Shawn: Yes T?

Tolani: You don’t know where I live

Shawn: That is true. 🤦‍♂️ What’s your address?

Tolani laughed as she texted him her address. ‘Why is he so easy to talk to.’ she thought as she stared down at her phone, a smile on her face. She got along with Shawn more than anyone she’d met since she’d moved to Toronto and she wasn’t entirely sure why. He was warm and open, something she wasn’t used to. It was like a breath of fresh air. And she welcomed it. Every conversation they’d had either through text or in-person never felt forced, even with a few awkward silences.

The next day as she was getting ready the was a knock at her door, and a few seconds later Desire walked in.

“Hey hun! I haven't seen you in a minute,” she said flopping down on Tolani’s bed. Something that didn't go unnoticed by Tolani who’d made the bed a few minutes prior. “Where have you been?”

“Oh, you know” Tolani waved her hand dismissively “Her,  there and everywhere. Mostly going to class and exploring then coming back here.”

“I feel like I haven't even seen you in the dorm.”

“I’ve been around.”

“Anway” Desire said “A couple of us are going to see a movie in a little bit. You wanna come?”

Tolani looked down at her phone, it was 1:45 ‘Shawn is going to be here soon.’ she thought. “Sorry I can’t. I’m heading out.”

“Oh. Where are you going” said excitedly bouncing on the bed, creasing Tolani’s sheets further.

“Just going to get coffee with a friend from my course.” The lie was an easy one, coming out a lot quicker than Tolani would’ve thought. Telling Desire she was going out with Shawn was equivalent to telling everyone, and she definitely wasn’t ready to do that yet.

“Sounds fun! Maybe when you’re done you could meet up with us. We’ll be at the Cineplex on Eglinton Avenue.”

“Will do” Tolani nodded her head, looking at Desire who got up to leave. Then she turned around as looked in the mirror to put the finishing touches on her makeup.  As she was putting on her lip gloss her phone vibrated.

Shawn: I’m here.

Tolani: I’ll be out in a second

As she walked outside, she couldn't help but feel nervous. Not unlike how she felt they had coffee, but there was something different about this time. ‘It could be that we’re going to be in a confined space for an extended period of time.’

Shawn was outside her dorm waiting for her. There was no way she could have missed his Jeep. Tolani walked up to the car as he wound down the window.

“Hi T.” he flashed her a smile that she couldn't help but return. ‘Why is his smile so contagious?’

“Hi, Shawn. Nice car.” She quipped leaning against the door placing her forearms on the open window.

“Are you gonna get in?”

“Well, my mum always told me not to get into a stranger’s car” Tolani tapped on her chin pretending to be lost in thought.

“Am I stranger though?” he cocked his head analysing her. “I mean we had coffee a few days ago.”

“You’ve got a good point,” Tolani replied with a chuckle as she opened the door and got into his car.

“So” she implored a few minutes later, turning to look at Shawn whose eyes were trained on the road. “Why exactly did you need me as a DJ? Where are we going?” “Well actually…” He ran his hands through his hair before answering.”We’re not actually going anywhere.”

“Huh?” she furrowed her eyebrows clearly not understanding what he was saying. “I didn’t have a reason for this drive. I just wanted to spend time with you.” Tolani couldn’t help but smile. “You saw me 4 days ago Shawn.” she scoffed rolling her eyes playfully.

“I did. And I wanted to see you again.” turning to face her, his face unreadable. ‘That was incredibly sweet.’ Tolani felt her face warming, so much so that she broke their eye contact and looked away. “How about I give you a really random driving tour of Toronto while you be the DJ?” “Well, what kind of DJ would I be if there was no music.”  “I'm trusting you wholeheartedly. You have complete control over what we listen to.” The second he said that a list of her favourite songs popped into her head. “I have the perfect song.” And seeing that she had complete control over what they listened to, she was definitely going to play some afrobeat. After syncing her phone to the sound system is his car she opened Spotify, searched for the songs in question and pressed play.

The sound of drums filled the car followed by heavy bass and Tolani broke out in a huge grin as one of her favourite artists Wizkid started sang about needing love. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Shawn bopping his head along to the song, looking slightly confused by the lyrics. She couldn’t help it and started singing loudly once the second verse started.

‘Toba gboni shakara pade

Pa’shan toh ma fi na eh oh

Oje loun jeh

Kilon se je, shakara olo’je ni’

“Hold on! What did he say? I’m pretty sure that was not English.” Shawn muttered clearly confused

At that, Tolani couldn’t control the giggle that came out of her. “That’s because it isn’t English Shawn. He’s singing in Yoruba.”

“Yuh-ruw-bah?” Much like when they first met, his pronunciation was way off but she mentally gave him points for trying but the giggle soon turned into a full-blown laughing fit. “Yo-ruh-bah.” she enunciated. “It’s one of the languages spoken in Nigeria.”

“I was going to ask about that.”

“There are hundreds of languages spoken in Nigeria and its really annoying when people ask me if I speak Nigerian.” she couldn't help the irritation that crept into her voice. Questions like that usually came from a place of ignorance and while she was more than willing to educate people who didn’t know, there was always an air of disrespect surrounding questions like that.

“And you speak Yoruba?” even though his pronunciation was a little better, she still couldn’t help but cringe a little.

“I do” she nodded her head. “Ever since I was a kid.”

“So you understand what he’s saying.”

“Every single word. Here I’ll translate for you. The song is basically about wanting sweet love and good vibes. That part of the song basically talks about people who show off. ‘Shakara‘ roughly translates to ‘show off’ or someone who brags and the song is basically saying that people who show off kill the good vibe.”

“Got it!” He turned back to the road as Tolani kept singing.

As the song came to a close she turned to him. “What did you think?”

“I loved it! I’ve never heard a song like that before. What’s it called.” his face lit and she could feel her heart swelling with pride it was an amazing feeling when someone connected with something that was important to you

“That my dear, was your introduction to afrobeat. The song is called Sweet Love by an artist called Wizkid. It’s one of my favourites”

“Do you have any more songs like that cause that was easily the coolest song I’ve ever heard.”

“You’re in luck because I do.” she bragged as she picked up her phone.

Seeing as he liked the first song so much, she decided to play something in a similar vein. Jaiye Jaiye and Sweet Love were similar in the sense that you could tell it was made by the same artist but the two songs have different vibes and wildly different lyrics.

‘Wizzy baby loke loke

Seb’Oluwa lo se o

Owo n wole wa

Seb’Oluwa lo se o ah

Lagos today and London tomorrow  

Oluwa lo se o

Omo jaiye jaiye

Seb’Oluwa lo se oh ah’

She was singing along and turned to see Shawn looking right at her. “What?” she deadpanned. Suddenly becoming self-conscious. “Nothing.” he turned away smiling to himself. “What does this song mean?”

“Jaiye means to enjoy life and have a great time. The song is basically living your best life and just being thankful for all the blessings in your life. The song is also special because it’s directly influenced by one of, it not the most influential Afrobeat artist ever.”

Shawn absorbed everything she was telling him. And it felt good to talk to someone about some of the songs that she loved and have them listen, even though they might not fully understand everything.  

There was no way she was going to play some of her favourite afrobeat songs and not play a single Burna Boy song. A day didn’t go by where she didn’t listen to at least one of his songs and today was no different. Gbona was one of those songs that could change her turn her mood around and she was really excited to play it for Shawn.

‘When the gbedu dey enter body, enter body

All the girl, them go shake body

Them go shake their body.

Oluwa Burna mo gbona feli, say mo Gbona feli

You not get money, you dey call police.

Me I dey laugh you gan ni.’

She could see his brow furrow again as he tried to decipher the lyrics he clearly couldn't understand. “I need you to not focus on the lyrics so much as the song. Focus on the drums and the saxophone and how you feel when you listen to the song. It’s all about the ‘gbedu’, which is a traditional drum which is used in a lot of songs, producing a beat that makes you want to dance.”

“I can’t dance.” he turned to look at her.

“You don’t need to know how to dance per se. It’s more about vibing to the song rather than dancing.”

After she said that, she could see him relax and start to enjoy the song, it started with his head and soon his entire body was moving albeit a little off-beat which made Tolani smile.

The next song she picked was a lot slower and more suited to a drive, but still had the quintessential elements she loved. “This is one is called Damiloun. I love this one cause it reminds me of the drives my dad and I used to take around Lagos on Saturday mornings,” she stated,  eyes closed, swaying from side to side in her seat.

“So it’s the perfect song for a drive?”

“That’s why I picked it. It’s a lot more chill and reflective of another genre of music called highlife which is a lot more ‘jazzy’.”

“I’m loving your music choices so far.”

“I had a feeling you would.” she smirked.

Tolani decided to change tactics for the next song and play something that he was more familiar with.

She could see his demeanour change as he started screaming the lyrics to Better Now.

‘You prolly think that you are better now, better now

You only say that 'cause I'm not around, not around

You know I never meant to let you down, let you down

Woulda gave you anything, woulda gave you everything’

Soon enough she joined in and the two spent the next two and a half minutes screaming Post Malone lyrics at the top of their lungs, getting louder with each line practically jumping in their seats. They earned a few looks from other drivers when they stopped at a red light, but they didn’t notice, as they were too wrapped up in the song to care.

“Have you got any requests?” She asked when the song ended.

“Nope. I wasn’t kidding when I said you have complete and utter control over what we listen to.”

SHAWN POV

When Shawn saw Tolani walk out of her dorm, his heart had started beating quicker than normal. The first thing he noticed when she got into his car was the faint smell of honey. She looked like she did when they first met, except this time her braids were in a bun on top of her head. Her demeanour was cool and collected but her eyes showed just how excited he was, and it calmed him knowing that she was just as eager to spend time with him as he was with her.

He’d been incredibly nervous to ask her out again. After her reaction to some of his songs, he really wanted to know what kinds of songs she liked and a situation like this where she picked what they listened to seemed like a good a time as any to pick her brains about her taste in music.

The best way to describe the first song she played was colourful. The way the instruments were used were completely foreign and he’d never heard anything like it. Another thing he wasn’t familiar with were the words. He could barely make out what he was saying and was pretty sure the song wasn’t fully in English. His suspicions were confirmed when Tolani started singing her voice becoming rougher to pronounce the words.‘Yeah that definitely was not English.’ And when she said as much to her, she giggled, dimples out on full display. Soon her giggles turned into a full-blown laughing fit when he got the pronunciation of Yoruba wrong, the second time she’s laughed at his pronunciations.

That was how it was for a lot of the songs she played, he knew that Tolani had barely scratched the surface but he understood what she meant when she’d said Afrobeat wasn’t something you just listened to, it really was something you experienced. He could see that in the way she sang along to each song with hopeless abandon, flawlessly switching from English to Yoruba and back while dancing to each song even though she was in a confined space. His mind went back to when they first met. He’d noticed that she was a good dancer. Regardless of the song, she was always on beat making it clear that music was a very big part of her life.

He didn’t have the same luck. While he felt the urge to dance to each song, he was nowhere near as fluid as she was and she could tell. “I’m going to teach you how to dance.”He was already shaking his head. Dancing was his worst fear and there was no way he was doing it in front of her. “Nope. I’m not dancing. Ever!”

“It’ll be fun!”

“T, there is no way you are getting me to dance.”

She turned to him, head tilted to the side. “Shawn. you cannot tell me this song doesn't make you want to dance.”

“I can’t lie. It does.” he nodded “However I’m a terrible dancer so...” ending the sentence with a shrug.

“You’ve never had me as a teacher though.”

“T I’m sure that I’ll be shit EVEN with you as a teacher.”

“Maybe” she shrugged “but it would be funny though.”

“Yeah,” he said wistfully. “It probably would.”

Tolani named each song and artist as the song started making sure he knew exactly what she was playing. Listening to her explain the meaning behind each song made each one even more special, her voice becoming rougher and her accent becoming for prominent the more she spoke. He was honoured that she wanted to share that meaning with him especially when the songs had such personal and cultural significance.

As ignorant as it sounded he wasn’t expecting such diversity. Each song was similar but different. They ranged from slower tempos perfect for driving to upbeat songs that made him want to scream the lyrics even though he didn't know or understand them.

Tolani didn’t only play Afrobeat, she had one of the most diverse music tastes he’d ever come across. While she played her favourite Drake song, they talked about their shared love of the Canadian rapper and even went as far as belting out Fake Love while at a stoplight.

Shawn couldn’t help but cringe a little as the intro to Lost in Japan started playing but that feeling slowly turned into one of pride when she started singing along word for word. He was shocked at how quickly she’d learnt all the lyrics and couldn’t help but join in smiling as she screamed the bridge. “How did you learn the lyrics so fast?”

“I told you’ she glanced at him “I really like the song.” she winked.

The next song had him scream in excitement, which completely shocked Tolani. “You like Lauryn Hill?” surprise evident in her voice. He nodded his head enthusiastically “I really do and Doo Wop is my favourite song off of Miseducation” She grinned at him. “Me too. Another thing we have in common.” By the time the chorus came round, they were singing at the top of their lungs. She had a beautiful voice and he imagined what it would be like to have her sing to him.

‘Guys you know you’d better watch out

Some girls, some girls are only about

That thing, that thing, that thing,

That thing, that thing, that thing.’

Even though they didn’t talk about much outside music, it felt nice to be in her presence. He was someone who focused on the energy that surrounded people and the best way to describe hers was enigmatic. There was so much more to her than she was letting on which made him want to know more about her, but she was also incredibly thoughtful and very funny.

After two hours of pretty aimless driving Shawn dropped Tolani off outside her dorm but before she opened the door to leave, he turned to her.

“I had a great time.” He smiled  “Your taste in music is incredible and Afrobeat might be my new favourite thing.” He saw her eyes light up as the words hit home and he knew how important those words were to her.

“How about this. I’ll make a Spotify playlist of all the songs I played for you and add in a few more?”

“What happened to you not liking me enough to share music with me?”

“Cleary I changed my mind about that.” she smirked and she opened the door and climbed out of the car.

(Credit to @mendes-shawn for the gif)

Taglist 

@bugheadfanatic @sean-mendezzzzz @rulerofnocountry @thotmendes @shawnssnack @momenraul @justbeingoceana @tisvanessa @mani-lifes @shawnsvalentine @pinkk-peonies @sinplisticshawn  @eve134340 @kyloreins

[ruthandliamgoplaces]

Last two weeks in Nepal!

Our last two weeks have flown by, and I am writing this in the air on flight number one to Oman. The next blog entry shall tell tales of our time in Pokhara, a yoga retreat, and then, similar to my fate in Portugal last year - the Great Malaise- I got ill for the last 5 days of our trip!

Back in Civilisation- Pokhara.

After the Annapurna Circuit we spent two nights in Pokhara, a large city located on a picturesque lake with a beautiful bustling and colourful tourist area. Pokhara, busier with tourists than Kathmandu, is the hub for most of the trekking industry and the majority of people stay here before and after their treks. It therefore has lots of amenities to please the tourists, and is awash with hostels, swanky (by Nepal standards) hotels and spa resorts. There are loads of eateries and coffee shops, some restaurants even do pretty spot on Western food and there is a KFC and a Baskin and Robbins! There are also quite a few bars. In this Westernised bubble, many tourists don’t bother to respect the local Nepali cultural customs of modest clothes, and lots of bum cheeks are falling out of short shorts, or biceps peeping out of vests.

After 40 days of the same menus (fried bread, fried rice, fried potato or fried omelette, with fried cabbage, fried onion or fried carrot), we got stuck in immediately to eating different food! Well, not immediately. As usual in Nepal, nothing quite goes to plan. The hotel we had booked had been overbooked... so we had to be moved to a different hotel... as usual in Nepal, no apology is really made for these mishaps, the proprietor just smiles your questioning face into oblivion with his magical spell of “no problem!”. It was a problem, as the hotel we were moved to was not as good as the one we booked, but we still had to pay the price of the original hotel.... ah well. We were so tired, it mattered little. On the plus, we were reunited with our bag (yay!) and spoiled ourselves by wearing some different clothes! Also, we were moved to the hotel we had actually booked the following day, and got to enjoy the luxury! The manager had at least given us the best room to compensate for the night before, and we had a beautiful balcony and amazing views.

We passed two happy days in Pokhara, drinking wine and cocktails, and browsing the many shops selling souvenirs and clothes, and replaced some of our tatty clothes. We also bought some clothes for yoga, as we had decided to go to a retreat for a week!

On the third day we moved to Begnas Tal Yoga retreat, and I took with me about 40 mosquito bites on my feet, acquired from the carefree cocktail devouring session wearing flip flops by the lake. Thank god I didn’t have to wear my walking boots again, as I am slightly allergic and the bites were hot, red, itchy and angry, and kept me unwanted company, right up until we left Begnas!

Begnas Yoga Retreat

We arrived in Begnas after a 25 minute taxi journey from Pokhara, and were greeted by a glorious lake and jungle. Begnas is a very small town, also very popular with tourists but far less developed than Pokhara. It is rural and peaceful, well... peace from traffic. On our first night I had one of the worst nights sleep I’ve had in Nepal due to a very very loud bird, whose song will forever be burned into my mind. The bird was defending its nest in a tree outside our window for the whole week we were there, by singing the same alarming song on repeat with no gaps. It was particularly loud at night, and we were glad we had ear plugs! The song always begins innocently enough, but quickly builds, increasing in volume, pitch and frequency until it sounds like a high pitched squealing menace. I honestly think the bird could be used as an instrument of torture. Everyone at the retreat joked about the bird, as we all suffered it’s pitched perils. We even prayed to it to try and ask it to move trees! Our prayers were mostly unanswered.

The retreat schedule was roughly 6.30 walking meditation, 7.00 Nasal Irrigation (!) 7.30-9.00 Yoga, 9.30 Breakfast, 11.00 Treatment, 13.00 Lunch, 15.00 Yoga Theory, 17.00 Yoga, 19.30 Dinner and 21.00 Mantra and bed. Liam and I avoided the Mantra session and opted for bed and a western media meditation such as going on our phones!

The Nasal Irrigation requires some further explanation... apparently this is commonplace in Nepal... I remain unconvinced.

First, you pour about a decent sized mug full of warm salt water through one nostril, then the other. You tilt your head so the water pours out your other nostril... or if you have a blocked nose, your mouth. Then, you use a variety of techniques to evacuate the contents of your nose, blowing snot and water noisily all over the flowers and hillsides. So much snot comes out that it’s unbelievable that you could have so much. On my first day, water kept pouring from my nose for a good hour or so afterwards! Newcomers feel embarrassed by evacuating the contents of their nose in public... but quickly this process is normalised and you begin to become excited by the contents of your nose, and share tips for removing it, admiring each other’s snot loads. Yep.

The technique is said to clear your nose.. but my nose is never blocked anyway. I embraced it whilst I was there, but secretly mourned my delicate nose mucus which I’m sure does an excellent job and I suspect that my body harbours it for a reason. I also pushed to the back of my mind thoughts of the transmission of hepatitis, as we all merrily shared nasal baths together.

The yoga was really good, and we practiced twice a day in a glorious room with 360 degree panoramic views of mountains jungle and lake. We often stopped to watch birdlife and sunsets, or views of mountains, or laugh about The Bird. The only plague was mosquitos! Oh, and the Gurus mobile phone, his 3 year old daughter, and the ladies who came to take our food orders, who often also interrupted us!

The guru at the retreat was quite the character. As with everything in Nepal, the retreat was not quite like a retreat in the UK. The guru was quite often distracted during yoga or yoga philosophy, by his daughter, or tending some business, or by wanting to tell us some tale, or speak on the phone, or manage his staff. It was a new business, and sometimes it could be slightly chaotic! Things did not really run to schedules, and you never knew what you were going to get. It really didn’t matter though, we thought it was all part of the experience. Liam and I actually quite liked the lack of structure and discipline, we were tired and happy to lay around.

Not everyone agreed though, whilst we were there, one woman left three days early, and another left on the first night, creeping away under the cover of darkness, without telling anyone! We could understand why I suppose. If you were expecting a quiet nights sleep at a retreat, then you actually got a very loud bird, and a 3 year old who screamed periodically in the night! There was also the problem of the monsoon rains which flooded all the rooms several times (we learnt to stem the tides with towels), the lack of hot water (which we didn’t mind), and one guest’s bathroom smelt very badly (ours luckily was fine!). Or maybe it could have been eating your dinner sat on the kitchen floor with the ants and gigantic spiders (again, we didn’t mind).

All that being said, we had a wonderful time. The staff were all lovely and cooked us amazing fresh food every day. Much of the food was grown in the garden or collected from local markets. We saw gangs of wild monkeys cheekily stealing the food during the day! We were treated like gods, and fed constantly!

We also had some pretty amazing treatments. I had a mud bath, which included having my boobs massaged, which was, erm, an experience. In fact, by the end of the retreat, every female member of staff had managed some close encounter with my bare boobs. And I thought Nepal was a country shy about nudity. Not when it comes to doing beauty therapies it seems! The treatments were great though, we had massages, reiki healing, a steam bath, pedicure, oil bath... and were taken out on a boat and had a lovely picnic.

After the week was up, we were given a Buddhist blessing, and I felt close to tears feeling grateful for the experience of the retreat. It wasn’t quite the retreat I expected, but I got so much more. I got to share a week with a Nepali family and some lovely staff, and live in the jungle doing yoga twice a day. We learnt so much about local culture, from arranged marriages, road financing, education, the caste system, the Nepali wars and... unfortunately I also got to learn about illness...

The Great Plague

Having managed to avoid any illness for two months, Liam and I both contracted a sickness in the last week. We were both too grateful it hadn’t happened at any point before, such as at 5000m, to be too upset. Well, emotionally upset- our tummies were very upset! Liam got ill first, and his bug lasted 24 hours. I had to go and beat him.

The day before the end of the yoga retreat, I woke up and evacuated the contents of my stomach... and did so about 60 times that day, out of both ends. It was just litres of water coming out. Of course I googled cholera and thought it sounded the same, but Liam told me I was being a bit dramatic. Which it turns out, I probably was. Probably!

The illness was with me for four days, getting slowly better. But, it caused a great deal of concern as we had a plane to catch, and I wasn’t going anywhere considering I couldn’t even make the en-suite bathroom sometimes never mind go roaming in the wilds away from a room.

Never have I been more humiliated than to poo myself whilst we had an en-suite bathroom. And not just once. Four times.

Luckily, we had travel insurance and they had a telephone GP service. I sought some advice and the GP was hopeful my symptoms suggested a virus which would clear up in time for the plane (not cholera, after all, then). And she was right. Didn’t stop me spending the last 4 days of my holiday in bed though. I moved from the bed at the yoga retreat to a very nice hotel in Pokhara, and that was all I moved.

We didn’t mind too much. We had air conditioning, room service, a very comfy bed, and a TV! Liam even got to watch the football.

The end of Nepal

So, I recovered enough and now I’m in Oman airport. Our last day was spent on a bus to Kathmandu, a bus which we paid double for to have a bus with a toilet (just in case). A bus which broke down, and then we were promptly transferred to cheap bus, with no toilet (thankfully I didn’t need it) and no refund. Futhermore, the bus dropped us off on a different part of Kathmandu, so we had to pay extra on top for a taxi. But it’s ok though, the driver said “no problem”, so there was no problem. Paying double and some more to go on a bad bus. But hey, we made it!

Next stop... driving to France in a week!

[killerqueenjoy]

99 Question Tag

okay okay I know i got tagged to do this like a month ago on my main blog by @santonicababy iM SORRY LIN ILY BUT THIS WAS SO DAMN LONG

1) DO YOU SLEEP WITH YOUR CLOSET DOORS OPEN OR CLOSED

I sleep in the room where everybodies closets are and they all gotta be closed goddamn do you know how spooky it is to even have one open during the night

2) DO YOU TAKE THE SHAMPOOS AND CONDITIONER BOTTLES FROM HOTELS

my parents do, but alas I don't use them in case they have silicones or sulphates in them because I got a whole lotta curls to protect

3)DO YOU SLEEP WITH YOUR SHEETS TUCKED IN OR OUT?

if this refers to the sheet protecting the mattress, then my answer is in because how the fuck would you be able to sleep with that moving around???

4) HAVE YOU STOLEN A STREET SIGN BEFORE

NO SORRY IM BORING

5)DO YOU LIKE TO USE POST IT NOTES

heck yeah, but for random shit

6) DO YOU EVER CUT OUT COUPONS BUT THEN NEVER USE THEM

nee my parents are fancy fuckers who use the coupons on their phone (our local supermarket has a damn app skskksksk)

7) WOULD YOU RATHER BE ATTACKED BY A BIG BEAR OR A SWARM OF BEES

a bear because its one giant son of a bitch and not millions of tiny motherfuckers and also I've never been stung by a bee and intend to keep it that way because majority of my family seem to be allergic

8) DO YOU HAVE FRECKLES

nope! I have a couple beauty spots on my hands and face but thats kinda it

9) DO YOU ALWAYS SMILE FOR PICTURES

not really but if I've been told to smile then its 200% dead inside

10) WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST PET PEEVE

i find many things annoying

11)DO YOU EVER COUNT YOUR STEPS WHEN YOU WALK

only when i go up and down stairs, but i also try to make sure i step with each foot equally (if that makes sense) and i step on only certain colour tiles when im bored

12) HAVE YOU EVER PEED IN THE WOODS

the real question is have i ever been in the woods? both answers are no

13) HAVE YOU EVER POOPED IN THE WOODS

refer to question 12

14)ummmm idk what this question is meant to be curse you Lin

15)DO YOU CHEW YOUR PENS AND PENCILS

nope, the idea weirds me out

16) HOW MANY PEOPLE HAVE YOU SLEPT WITH THIS WEEK

none, this week and in general

17) WHAT SIZE IS YOUR BED

one person and a long yet smol doggo size

18) WHAT IS YOUR SONG OF THE WEEK

Eddie from the Rocky Horror Picture Show has been stuck in my head for the whole week so yeah i guess that

19)IS IT OKAY FOR GUYS TO WEAR PINK

HeLL YEAH DUDE HAVE YOU SEEN RAMI MALEK IN PINK

SKSKSKSKS END MY LIFE

but yeah, anyone can wear anything they want to wear (although a suit made out of meat might not be wise)

20) DO YOU STILL WATCH CARTOONS

dudeeeee scooby doo and tom and jerry are my jam I watch them on the regular (among other things)

21)WHAT IS YOUR LEAST FAVOURITE MOVIE

uhhm idkkkkk I tend to repress bad movies sksksk

22)WHERE WOULD YOU BURY HIDDEN TREASURE IF YOU HAD SOME

idk shove it in the closet ig at least it will be hidden behind my sexuality

23)WHAT DO YOU DRINK WITH DINNER

I usually only drink before or after but ig water??? cooldrink if I'm in a restaurant

24)WHAT DO YOU DIP A CHICKEN NUGGET IN

depends on the nug

25)WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE FOOD

How dare you assume i only have one favourite

tbh it depends cos i love pizza and pasta and stuff but then i cannot live with my granny's curries ksksmks

26) WHAT MOVIES COULD YOU WATCH OVER AND OVER AGAIN AND STILL LOVE

borhap, sing street, rhps, the natm movies, the harry potter movies, any mcu movies

27)LAST PERSON YOU KISSED/KISSED YOU

ahhahahahahahha bold of you to assume anyone wants to do that

28) WERE YOU EVER A BOY/GIRL SCOUT

nope but I was a catrobat which is basically my preschools acrobatics team that was actually really terrible

29)WOULD YOU EVER STRIP OR POSE NUDE IN A MAGAZINE

nahh m8

30) WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU WROTE A LETTER TO SOMEONE ON PAPER

this week for a transactional task at school (It was in Afrikaans and I got a C skskskks)

31)CAN YOU CHANGE THE OIL IN A CAR

omg no

32)EVER GOTTEN A SPEEDING TICKET

not old enough to drive!

33)EVER RAN OUT OF GAS

my parents never have for as long as i can remember

34)WHATS YOUR FAVOURITE KINDA SANDWHICH

cheese because I am actually John Deacon

35)BEST THING TO EAT FOR BREAKFAST

MUFFINS!!!!

36)WHAT IS YOUR USUAL BEDTIME

school nights its 11pm otherwise i dont have one lol

37)ARE YOU LAZY

YES BUT MY LAZINESS MAKES ME ANXIOUS OOF

38)WHEN YOU WERE A KID WHAT DID YOU DRESS UP AS FOR HALLOWEEN

we dont celebrate that here but i rly want to it seems fun!

39)WHAT IS YOUR CHINESE ASTROLOGICAL SIGN

Ram, which is really cool because im an Aries, so I'm sheep squared

40)HOW MANY LANGUAGES CAN YOU SPEAK

English, Afrikaans (at a basic highschool level), I could speak very vERY basic isiZulu when I was younger but I'm not sure about now, I know a bit of French and Telugu, and I'm gonna start learning Hindi soon!!

41) DO YOU HAVE ANY MAGAZINE SUBSCRIPTIONS

nee

42) WHICH ARE BETTER, LEGOS OR LINCOLN LOGS

i didn't play much with legos and i have no idea what the second one is rip

43)ARE YOU STUBBORN

to an extent

44)WHO IS BETTER, LENO OR LETTERMAN

I kept reading Leno as Lenin ffs

45)EVER WATCH SOAP OPERAS

I watch them occasionally with my granny, but I don't keep up with them very well (Kasamh Se is my shit tho)

46)ARE YOU AFRAID OF HEIGHTS

no, im afraid of falling in general tho

47) DO YOU SING IN THE CAR

My dad and I bop frequently to Never Gonna Give You Up in the car, and also classic bollywood songs (we have even learnt the choreography for some)

48)DO YOU SING IN THE SHOWER

i perform

49) DO YOU DANCE IN THE CAR

well theres not exactly much space

50)EVER USED A GUN

nope

51)LAST TIME YOU GOT A PORTRAIT TAKEN BY A PHOTOGRAPHER

not sure

52)DO YOU THINK MUSICALS ARE CHEESY

most are but thats why i like them

53) IS CHRISTMAS STRESSFUL

we don't celebrate because we're not Christian (we still eat a lot and exchange presents tho), but it can get stressful if we have to visit extended family, mostly because my extended family loves to insult everything about me so thats great!

54)EVER EAT A PIEROGI

not i good sir

55) FAVOURITE TYPE OF FRUIT PIE

never had one, it doesnt appeal to me

56) OCCUPATIONS YOU WANTED TO BE WHEN YOU WERE A KID

a vet

57)DO YOU BELIEVE IN GHOSTS

i am a ghost

58)EVER HAD A DEJA-VU FEELING

not that i remember

59)DO YOU TAKE A VITAMIN DAILY

yes, I take a multi vitamin, a vitamin D pill because I'm vitamin D deficient, and im not sure if this is a vitamin or not but i take evening primrose oil so that im not outwardly a bitch due to pms

60)DO YOU WEAR SLIPPERS

i wear slipper socks, because my doggo got jealous of my doggie slippers and murdered them in cold blood

61)DO YOU WEAR A BATH ROBE

i have one and rarely use it because i forget it exists

62)WHAT DO YOU WEAR TO BED

a random shirt and pants, though ive been known to kick pants off (ive been doing that since birth), occasionally i manage to get the matching pj set

63)WHAT WAS YOUR FIRST CONCERT

ive unfortunately never been to a concert before

64)WALMART TARGET OR KMART

ive never seen any of these stores in my country

65)NIKE OR ADIDAS

i own neither

66) CHEETOS OR FRITOS

neither

67)PEANUTS OR SUNFLOWER SEEDS

Peanuts because thats my doggos name!

68) EVER HEARD OF THE GROUP TRES BIEN

no sorry

69)EVER TAKE DANCE LESSONS

i went to a bhangra class for about a year, and we performed for our parents at the end of that year (i was in one of the few groups that didnt have to dance in lehengas thank goodness)

70)IS THERE A PROFESSION YOU PICTURE

YOUR FUTURE SPOUSE DOING

probably something creative, but I don't mind as long as they're happy with what they're doing and its not harming others!

71)CAN YOU CURL YOUR TONGUE

yep

72)EVER WON A SPELLING BEE

never entered one, having to spell out loud makes me anxious

73)HAVE YOU EVER CRIED BECAUSE YOU WERE SO HAPPY

i think so

74)OWN ANY RECORD ALBUMS

nope

75)OWN A RECORD PLAYER

i wish

76)DO YOU REGULARLY BURN INCENSE

my granny burns incense while I'm at school because my mom and i both get really sick when its just been lit and the smell is strong. Going to the temple is a damn nightmare because of it

77)EVER BEEN IN LOVE

no, too busy fangirling

78)WHO WOULD YOU LIKE TO SEE IN CONCERT

oof a long list

Queen, Twenty One Pilots, Waterparks, Frank Iero and the Future Violents (ffs fronk stop changin the name), Panic! at the Disco...to name a few

79)WHAT WAS THE LAST CONCERT YOU SAW

refer to question 63

80)HOT TEA OR COLD TEA

both

81)TEA OR COFFEE

coffee

82)SUGAR COOKIES OR SNICKERDOODLES

sugar cookies

83)CAN YOU SWIM WELL

i wouldn't drown, but im no professional either

84)CAN YOU HOLD YOUR BREATH WITHOUT HOLDING YOUR NOSE

im doing it right now

85)ARE YOU PATIENT

eh

86)DJ OR BAND AT A WEDDING

I've only ever been to Hindi,Tamil and Telugu weddings and lemme tell you 90% of the time bands flop at those weddings because they can't sing the classics without failing miserably, so DJs are generally better. However, in that case, if a band can perform those songs, then I'd prefer a band ig

87)EVER WON A CONTEST

yep, a couple of reading contests

88)HAVE YOU EVER HAD PLASTIC SURGERY

nope, not planning on it

89)WHICH ARE BETTER, BLACK OR GREEN OLIVES

dont like olives rip

90)CAN YOU KNIT OR CROCHET

i can knit!

in fact, my friends and i are so cool that we're in our schools knitting club (which besides myself, @grandfunnyemopainter and @imjustabruh , only has 2 other members)

91)BEST ROOM FOR A FIREPLACE

lounge or study/library

92)DO YOU WANT TO GET MARRIED

i guess, its not on my goal list tho

93)IF MARRIED, HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN MARRIED

no

94)WHO WAS YOUR HIGHSCHOOL CRUSH

currently in highschool, and in love with the borhap cast, sebastian stan, stephanie beatriz and band members (theres more but yeah)

95)DO YOU CRY AND THROW A FIT UNTIL YOU GET YOUR OWN WAY

nope, i have only two ways to deal, be a total pushover or a total bitch

96)DO YOU HAVE KIDS

nope

97)DO YOU WANT KIDS

kind of undecided, but i do want more pets

98)WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE COLOUR

Dark Blue

99)DO YOU MISS ANYONE RIGHT NOW

my dog, shes been ignoring me for about four hours now because I stayed at school for an extra hour (for knitting club!)

@softspaceboibrian @roger-taylor-owns-my-wigg @im-inlovewithmycar do it cowards

[eideticreid]

First Case » Spencer Reid

Pairing: Reader x Spencer Reid

Word Count: 1,988

Warnings: None

Summary: You are heading out onto your first case within the BAU, and Hotch pairs you up with your new favourite person.

Tag: @ultrarebelheart, @captainreid, @cynbx

You had never been to Dallas, Texas before. But a serial killer, known as an UnSub within the Behavioral Analysis Unit, had brought you to the beautiful city for your first ever case.

You were feeling a mixture of emotions as you sat in the SUV, heading to the dump site of the latest victim, preparing yourself for what was probably going to be a days long case.

You were excited to use your skills and knowledge you had learnt over the years; you were determined to catch the UnSub and bring justice to those who needed it, and you were nervous in case you messed this up.

It was your first and only time to prove your worth to the team. Your first time to show them that you belong at the BAU.

Whilst on the private jet, Hotch had dished out jobs for each member of the team, and much to your delight he had paired you up with Spencer. You were excited about this because it meant more alone time with him.

Yours and Spencer’s job was to visit the dump site of the latest victim, Grace Chambers.

The only information you had on the case was that the UnSub targeted young girls between the ages of twenty-one and twenty-five; all were held hostage for three days whilst being brutally beaten, and then subsequently being murdered by blunt force trauma to the head.

“How are you feeling now we’re in Dallas?” Spencer asked from behind the wheel.

He could sense your excitement had dwindled, now being replaced with anxiety.

You thought for a second, “I’m a little nervous, to be honest. I just want to prove to you guys that I’m good enough for this job.”

“No one thinks that you aren’t.” He stated, briefly looking at you. “Didn’t you graduate top of your class in the academy?”

“Yeah, but I don’t have near enough the experience you all have.”

“It’s true, the academy can only teach you so much. But you’ll be fine. You’re intelligent. Hotch would never have hired you if he didn’t think you were capable. Don’t start doubting yourself now.”

You smiled, “I’ll try my best to remember that. Thanks, Spence.”

There was that nickname again.

His heart skipped a beat when his name slipped from your mouth, although this time you were aware of the shortened version you used. He blushed; he liked the way his name sounded when you spoke it.

“You know, J.J’s the only person who calls me Spence.”

“Oh,” You blushed hard, “I’m sorry. I didn’t realise. In future I’ll just stick with Spencer. Or Reid. I mean, which would you prefer?”

He noticed your slight stammering, and smiled at how cute you sounded. “I didn’t mean for that to sound rude. I was just stating that J.J is the only person who calls me that. I actually don’t mind you calling me Spence.”

“Oh, okay,” You didn’t know why, but you were still blushing, “It just seems natural for me to say Spence. So if you really don’t mind, I might just stick with that.” You grinned.

He chuckled, “Totally don’t mind.”

As the conversation seemed to end, you started paying more attention to the streets of Dallas passing you by. Even though you were here under unfortunate circumstances, you still thought this city was appealing and fascinating.

“You wanna know what I do when I feel anxious?” Spencer asked, “I read. I mean, I read for pleasure mostly, but it also helps if I’m feeling anxious about something.”

“Does it really work?” You were curious.

“For me, yeah. Studies have shown that just six minutes of reading can help reduce stress levels by up to sixty percent. That’s sixty-eight percent better than listening to music, a hundred percent better than drinking tea, and three hundred percent better than going for a walk.” He explained.

“See I’ve always tried listening to music to calm my nerves.” You stated, “But if reading is more effective, then I should definitely try that out.”

You noticed that Spencer was pulling up to the side of the road, and when you caught sight of the yellow tape sectioning off an alleyway, you realised you were at your destination.

“What were you reading on the jet earlier?” You asked, stepping out from the SUV.

“Strangers on a Train by Patricia Highsmith. It’s a good read, I highly recommend.”

“You did look very invested.” You both walked over to the scene, flashing your credentials to the officer patrolling the area, “Any other books you recommend?”

Spencer held up the tape so you could both duck underneath it, “I could recommend many books,” He chuckled, “How about I give you a list later of my personal favourites?”

“I’d love that, thanks.”

• • •

You and the team had been working tirelessly all day to find clues and information on the UnSub, and now all of you were exhausted and ready for bed.

You and Spencer had returned to the police station after visiting the dump site — an alleyway in the roughest part of Dallas — and you both concluded that the UnSub left Grace’s body there for anyone to find, because he lacked concern, sympathy and interest.

When you returned to the police station, Hotch had instructed for you and Spencer to start a geographical profile, along with J.J, and that’s where you had been for hours. Trying to make connections; trying to find clues.

Your brain was frazzled.

“You know what, I don’t think I can function anymore without coffee. Do you guys want one?” J.J asked, rising from her seat.

“Yes, please.” Spencer replied.

You knew coffee at 9 P.M. was a bad idea, “Not for me, thanks. But I wouldn’t say no to water.”

J.J smiled, “Coming right up. You know (Y/L/N), I wish I could make good decisions like you.”

You chuckled as she left the room, leaving you and Spencer alone once again. He was sitting at the long table with you, staring intently at all the folders and pieces of paper sprawled in front of him.

You looked over at the big board beside you, a map of Dallas enlarged, pins located on each dump site of the UnSub’s victims and where they were last seen.

“So we’ve established the dump sites have no significance to the UnSub, just wherever is convenient for him.” You thought aloud, “But he’s got to be keeping these girls in a secluded area for the three days he holds them hostage. A place where he can’t be disturbed.”

“A place where passers by wouldn’t hear the screams of the girls.” Spencer carried on, turning to the board, “The dump sites are all roughly two miles from each other, but it’s hard to tell if there’s any secluded areas on this map around where he left the bodies.”

You smiled, you were getting somewhere. “I believe that’s a job for our tech genius friend back home.”

Just as Spencer went to retrieve his phone from his pocket to call Garcia, Derek and Elle had returned from their jobs looking exhausted and mentally drained.

“Kids, please tell me you have something.” Derek moaned, as he flopped down onto a chair.

“We might have a potential lead,” Spencer said, now watching Hotch and Gideon walk into the room, “We were just going to call Garcia for her assistance.”

He dialled her number and after three rings she picked up, “You’ve reached Penelope Garcia in the FBI’s Office of Supreme Genius.”

You smiled. “Hey Garcia, it’s Reid. We need you to look up isolated abandoned buildings and secluded houses in Dallas.”

“Preferably somewhere that’s not situated in the city. We are looking for a place where no one would suspect a thing, or hear the cries and screams of our victims.” You further explained.

“You got it love bugs.”

• • •

In no less than thirty minutes had you all pulled up outside of an abandoned warehouse, thanks to Penelope’s tech skills.

After gathering information from Penelope’s finds and then making connections to the profile you’d all delivered, you realised that Vincent Woods was your UnSub and his next target was likely his ex-girlfriend.

With your bullet proof FBI vests securely on, and your weapons firmly in your hands, you had all fanned out around the warehouse in pairs from Hotch’s orders.

You and Spencer walked around a corner, covering each other, when Hotch had started speaking into the device in your ear. “Guys, J.J has just left Gabrielle’s house. She’s missing. There seems to have been a struggle. We now have reason to believe Vincent already has her, so go easy on approach.”

You and Spencer shared a look before walking down a corridor, making sure to have each others backs the whole time.

Around two minutes later, you and Reid had entered into the main room of the warehouse, the same time Derek and Elle did from across the other side.

“FBI! Put down your weapon!” Derek bellowed.

Your UnSub had jumped at the loud noise your co-worker had made and scrambled to grab his ex-girlfriend so she was now in front of him. His own human shield.

He pressed his gun to Gabrielle’s head, “Stay away! Get away! Don’t come any closer!”

“Vincent Woods, we will not ask you again. Put down your weapon!” Elle spoke sternly.

“Or what?” He pressed, “You’ll shoot me? Good luck with that. You’ll just end up shooting her too.” An evil smirk graced his lips.

“We know she hurt you,” Spencer spoke, “We know she left you heart broken and alone. But do you really think killing her is the answer?”

“Yes!” He shouted, “She deserves to feel the hurt and pain she put me through!” He pressed the gun further into Gabrielle’s temple.

You and the team had come to the conclusion that the girls he killed were just tests to see what the best method of torture and murder was, and that it all ultimately ended with Gabrielle and what she deserved.

“No good is going to come out from this, Woods.” You said, repositioning how you held your gun, “You kill her but your pain will still remain. Don’t you want her to apologise for what she did?”

You were trying to buy some more time for the team to work out a plan in which Gabrielle made this out alive.

“Her apology means nothing.” He spat, “I know I’ll feel a lot better when she’s dead.”

The next few seconds had consisted of Hotch and Gideon sneaking up behind Vincent, alerting him of their presence, and then a shoot out happening because Vincent had been snuck up on once again.

You didn’t draw any bullets, purely because the angle you and Spencer were at didn’t give you a clear enough shot of him. But Derek had managed to shoot him twice in the back, taking him down without harming Gabrielle.

As you put your weapon back in its holster, you had noticed a small simple action that was made by Spencer.

He had stepped in front of you. When the guns were drawn he had stepped in front of you.

He turned around to face you with slight concern adorned on his features, “Are you okay?”

You nodded, “Yeah, I’m fine.” You hesitated to mention his movement at first, “Spence, you uh, you stepped in front of me.”

A blush had fastly approached his cheeks, “I uh, yeah.” He scratched the back of his neck, “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I, uh, did that.”

Before you could tell him that it was okay, he had walked off flustered at his stupid actions. You watched as he walked away, your heart thumping in your chest, but not because of the adrenaline of what just happened.

But because you was sure you were slowly developing feelings for Spencer Reid.

[youcancallmeelle]

Friends With Benefits: Bill Skarsgard... Chapter 6

The next few days passed in a blur and things with Bill were different, a nice different.

He was so invested in me and even kept his word, he didn't push me to talk about what happened on the hill top, he was waiting for me to be ready and bring it up myself.

This morning I'd awoken to him pushing the hair from my face and placing a lingering kiss on my temple.

My eyes fluttered open and I was met with the sight of Bill leaning over the bed, I smiled sleepily at him and I lifted myself up to lean against the headboard, holding the sheets to my chest.

I was so tired from the last few days on set that I'd slept through the night and not even felt Bill get up or heard him get ready.

"Where are you going?" I asked, looking him up and down.

"I have a meeting."

He was clad in a fitted black shirt that was tucked into slim, dark grey trousers that were fastened with a black belt and his hair was gelled into place.

I bit my lip and looked up at him through my eyelashes.

"Don't." He warned, narrowing his eyes.

I tilted my head at him and smiled innocently, before pulling him down onto the bed with me and pushing him onto his back.

I dropped all the sheets around me and climbed on top of him, straddling him and pinning his arms by his head.

He groaned but watched as my breasts bounced and he shifted under me, it was pretty obvious that his trousers had just become tighter.

"I've literally just told you I have a meeting." He laughed, making no effort to remove himself from under me, even though he was considerably stronger than me.

"And? We've got time." I began unfastening the buttons on his shirt, revealing his milky skin to my eager eyes.

"My ego hurts at those words, I must admit and as badly as I want you right now, I really have to go." He sighed, flipping us over and kneeling between my legs as he fastened his shirt back up.

I lay with my arms behind my head, staring at the white ceiling of Bill's room.

"When will you be back?" I wondered, looking downwards towards him.

"A couple of hours maybe, I'm not sure." He shrugged, focusing hard on my naked body and running his hands down my thighs.

"I'm gonna head back to my place, I need to get showered and I bet my post is mounting up. My neighbours probably think I'm dodgy or something, I'm literally never there these days." I laughed, leaning up onto my elbows as Bill removed himself from the bed and adjusted his hair, pushing it back into place and shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Wanna do something after my meeting?" He wondered and I nodded.

"Target trip?" I asked excitedly and he rolled his eyes.

"Fine." He groaned, and I clapped my hands.

"You're such a pushover." I giggled, now sitting up on Bill's kingsize bed.

"I'll show you pushover later, but right now I really need to get going." Bill hurriedly kissed my lips and left the bedroom, I could head him jog downstairs.

I waited until I heard the sound of his car pull out of the driveway, the gravel crunching underneath the wheels and that's when I finally decided to get my backside out of bed to brush my teeth in the en suite bathroom.

I shoved my hair up into a disheveled bun and washed my face, removing any reminents of toothpaste from around my mouth.

I quickly sprayed some deodorant just to last me until I got home and could have a good scrub in my bath or in the shower, depending on my mood.

When I was back in Bill's room I mooched around for the first set of underwear I could find, which just happened to be plain black.

I stole another t-shirt from Bill which was white with a random print on the front and rolled the sleeves up so they didn't hang awkwardly at the crease of my elbow, I hated that.

Luckily, I had a few pairs of Joni jeans hanging around here so I merely shoved a light blue pair on and was good to go.

I was pretty impressed with how briskly I'd managed to get myself ready, although I definitely had the advantage seeing as I hadn't applied any make up.

I tidied up Bill's bedroom and made his bed, pulling up the blinds to allow the morning sunlight to flood the room and wake me up further.

I made my way downstairs and to the door, where I just pulled my vans on, grabbed my bag and had a quick scan inside to make sure I had everything including my wallet, keys, iphone and my glasses.

I was pretty content that I'd got everything and that I'd tidied Bill's place up accordingly so left the house after setting the alarm and locking the door behind me.

I'd driven over here yesterday so my white Audi was parked up and waiting for my entry.

I unlocked my car and hopped right in, dumping my bag on the passenger seat.

I belted up and pressed the button to start my car, seeing as it was a keyless start. I got into gear and began the long descent back onto the road, eager to get home.

I'd been back and forth to Bill's place over the last month and it was starting to feel pointless paying rent for such a gorgeous apartment when all I did was stay at his.

I pulled up to my apartment complex, parking in one of my designated spots and locked my car up once I'd grabbed my bag.

I punched in the code and opened the door to the building, entering the foyer where I collected my post.

I mindlessly flipped through the envelopes,  scrunching my nose up at the sheer amount of junk mail I'd received.

I climbed up the stairs to my floor, where only my apartment was and shoved the key into the lock, happy to be home.

I kicked my shoes off, dumped the post and my bag on the kitchen counter which happened to be around the corner from my front door and also threw my keys down next to the items.

My apartment was in pristine condition, mostly because I liked to keep it tidy because I was a slight neat freak. It worked out pretty well for me though, because Bill was the same.

I flopped onto my couch, grabbing my MacBook from the glass coffee table and placing it onto of my folded legs, logging onto my account and almost immediately pulling my emails up since I’d neglected them pretty bad.

I flicked through the junk emails, sending them straight to trash folder. Most of them were pretty standard, a few asking of my availability for the rest of the year but one in particular caught my eye.

The name was unfamiliar and the subject merely said ‘an interview with the hottest couple of 2016’ and my heart sank just at reading those words, but it was nothing compared to the actual email itself;

An invitation to Miss Mya Williams,

We hope you are able to join us at our Beverly Hill studio to participate in an interview that delves deep into the reality of dating one of the biggest upcoming actors of the year, we would be delighted if both yourself and Bill Skarsgard could attend and reveal all to us and your fans.

I hope to hear from you in the upcoming days,

Lizzie Sharp Entertainment Central

My mouth was agape and my heart was beating so aggressively against my chest, why would this reporter lady want to interview Bill and I over being a couple when there was literally no proof or anything out there to suggest that we were more than friends.

We were so careful about doing anything on the set of the last television show we worked together on, that ceased filming a few days ago. I don’t know if Lizzie was working with information that had sprung from rumours, since Bill had gotten big, the public were interested in his personal life, specifically his love life and people were quick to pin me to him.

I hastily sent the email to the junk folder, where it was going to lay dormant with he rest until I went on a deleting spree.

If I didn’t reply to the email, surely it would all go away, right?

I tried to forget about the strange email, hoping to never receive anything like it again.

I pulled up twitter, signing in and having a mindless scroll through my timeline, favouriting the odd tweet and retweeting a few cool pieces that had some relevance to my life.

I also decided to tackle my mentions, which filled up a lot these days after my work was revealing to the world of critique. I mostly got compliments galore and the odd comment that came from a pre pubescent girl who liked to slate my every move, every breath I took.

After moving to LA I grew a back bone and learnt to take shitty comments on the chin, and because of this grew my delightful personality that consisted of sarcasm and standing up for myself.

I yawned as I weaved through the mentions, not particularly interested.

Well, that was until I came across multiple pictures of myself and Bill spamming my mentions. I rolled my eyes, people loved to be nosey.

Although what I did notice was that it was the same three images across multiple tweets, so I decided to enlarge them and what met my eyes were pictures of myself and Bill looking awfully close.

Sickness overwhelmed me, as did sheer panic.

The first image was of us on set, with me on his back and a huge smile on his face as I whispered something into his ear.

The second was of us walking to the restaurant in Beverly Hills in the other day with his arm thrown over my shoulders.

The final image was of us in the restaurant, taken through the window and we were holding hands.

It didn’t look good for us, and I figured it was better to say nothing than to try and magic up a lie that probably made us look shadier.

I let out a growl and slammed the my laptop shut, throwing it to the side of me and covering my face with my hands.

I knew this would happen, but I thought it’d be easier to deny and it was only a matter of time before the tabloids had the pictures printed in every magazine in America.

The last thing we needed getting out was that we both liked each other and the sheer amount of time we spent together, or to have any more picture taken of us without our knowledge.

To say I was worried was an understatement, being so out there now meant that the press would start digging and the last thing I wanted plastered over the internet was my sad excuse of a life.

I didn’t need anyone to know that I’d dropped out of school and that I hadn’t even wanted to attend college. I didn’t want anyone to know that my parents absolutely hated me for doing these things, I was nothing but an embarrassment to them.

I definitely didn’t need Bill to have to endure the comments that would be thrown at him about my age or my background and it was a blessing that he didn’t have any social media or it was certain that this would have blown up even bigger.

I have no idea how long I was sat on my couch wallowing in self pity but the sound of my phone ringing, along with he vibrations snapped me out of my trance.

I yanked it out of my back pocket taking a quick glance at the caller ID, almost shouting out in frustration at the sight of Bill’s name.

I couldn’t bring myself to answer it, so speedily pressed the reject button on the screen.

There was pure silence for a minute before it rang again, flashing up once more with his name. I knew that he’d keep calling if i didn’t pick up, he was the most persistent man I’ve ever met.

“What’s up?” I breathed, running a hand down my face.

“Oh, hey. I’ve just finished with my meeting, are you ready?” He asked, most obviously speaking to me over the speaker in his car.

“Erm, no. I don’t feeling like going out anyway, feel free to head back home.” I excused, the thought of being pictured out together again making my head spin with anxiety.

“Why not? You love going to Target, you were so up for it this morning… is something wrong?” I could almost imagine him frowning in confusion, because it was true, I fucking loved Target.

“I just don’t feel brilliant, Bill. Look, I’ll talk to you later, bye.” I spoke in a rush, hanging up the phone and dropping back into the cushions of my couch.

Tears spilled over and I sobbed quietly, more overwhelmed than anything.

I didn’t move to LA to become the focus of every gossip magazine, I came to escape my old life. This wasn’t what I wanted, I just wanted to work and be happy.

I merely wanted to be left alone, it’s all I’ve ever wanted. Bill was the only person who knew almost everything about me, he was the one person I knew who would catch me if I fell.

A knock at my door pulled me away from the darkness that was just my thoughts and I wiped the tears from under my eyes, sniffling and breathing deeply before hopping up from the couch and plastering on a smile ready for whoever was on the other side of the door.

I twisted the inside lock and pulled it open, cursing at myself for not checking through the spy hole before opening the door.

“What are you doing here? I told you I didn’t feel like going out.” I muttered, leaving Bill at the door and walking into my kitchen.

I heard him close the door behind him and he followed me, and I could feel him watching my every move as I leant on my sink and looked out of the window in front of me.

“You sounded upset on the phone and I’m not an idiot.” He remarked, his presence strong behind me.

I made a face and gritted my teeth.

“You’re an idiot if you forgot how to use your key and let yourself in.” I whispered to myself, watching as the sun moved behind the clouds.

“What’s up with you? You were fine this morning, right until I left. Now I’ve finished my meeting and you have no interest in being around me, and I can’t figure out why.”

I span around harshly, taking him off guard.

“I told you to be careful with what you did in public, the hand holding, the cuddling! Now the press have got photos of us and they’re all over the fucking internet and I have people emailing me asking for interviews, I knew this would happen, I told you that people would start speculating!” I yelled at him, his eyes widening at my sudden tone of voice.

“What pictures? You need to get a grip, Mya! We take one step forward and two back and I specifically remember telling you to not worry and just let people speculate. We’re the only people who need to be involved in our business, it's our own business.” He spoke back, making me roll my eyes.

“It’s not even speculation that’s the problem, Bill. It’s the fact that people have confirmation that there’s something going on between us, and I don’t know what to do about it.” I spoke, my voice cracking and more tears threatening to fall.

Bill let out a prolonged breath and advanced towards me with his arms outstretched, they wrapped around me like a shield.

“There’s nothing you can do, or that you need to do. But I think it's time to face the facts or maybe our feelings in this case." Bill murmured into my hair.

I nodded against him, my face buried into his neck.

Now was the time.

"I'm pretty damn sure that I'm in love with you." I admitted against the skin of his neck.

"Well that's good then, because I'm pretty sure I'm in love with you to." He replied, pushing me back gently and holding my face between his hands.

I looked up at him and once our eyes met I felt every ounce of hurt, upset and anger leave my body.

He rested his forehead against mine and pressed a kiss to my lips, it was gentle, like a feather touching you for a second.

I kissed him back and let my arms go up around his neck, so grateful to be in his arms.

He pulled back for a second and I almost let out a whimper at the loss of contact.  

"Be my girlfriend, wife, whatever. I just know that I need you, all of you." Bill revealed and I nodded.

"Can we not say anything to the press? or to anyone, just not yet." I asked, touching his full bottom lip with mine.

"Whatever you want." He whispered, grasping my face harder and crushing his lips on mine.

This was it.

This was official.

Friends with benefits didn't really work out the way I planned but I think it was for the best and now all feelings, secrets and confessions are out there.

I just hope nothing ruins it.

                                     xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

- Hey everyone, I’m so thankful for your patience with me and I’m so glad to finally have this chapter up. I hope you enjoy this filler and there will be more tomorrow :) Also thank you for your wishes of wellness, they’re very much appreciated 😘