#the only thing white about omar is his sweaters

[mymitochondriaforpresident]

wilmon the mlm interclass interracial ship of my dreams tbh 💜💜

[sergeant-donny-donowitz]

The Makeshift Medic

Donny Donowitz x Fem!Reader

Requested by @svonschroeder

(Sorry it took a few more days than I thought :/ )

Let me know if you guys wanna be tagged in these! :)

@owba-chan

*******************************************

"TEN HUT." Donny's voice echoed through the trees.

The Basterds scrambled into a line. The sun's harsh red rays were barely breaking through the horizon, boring through the branches, but they could already feel the heavy humidity sinking in around them.

Aldo was about to run his men through their mission. It was a big one. There was a cabin in the southeast side of the forest, and a few off duty nazi officers were holding a party there. They were high ranking. And they were major targets.

Aldo stopped mid-breath, before his first word.

You weren't there...

You were always there... in fact, you were usually the first one out.

Aldo narrowed his eyes, and turned to the privates. "Hirschberg. Omar."

The two stepped forward, "SIR Y-"

Aldo sighed, "At ease. At ease. Where in hell is y/n?"

Omar narrowed his eyes, "I uh... I don't know..."

Hirscherg turned around, back to the hideout, "She was right behind us."

Aldo muttered southern atrocities under his breath, as he rubbed the inner corners of his eyes, "Of all the goddamn days to fucken-"

He looked up and somehow you appeared in the line up.

Normally, it would've merited a chewing out, but...it was an important mission, there was no time. He narrowed his eyes again when he realized you were wearing a jacket...over a sweater...over a few other layers.

He quickly glanced around at the others. Donny was wearing his white tank top... everyone was wearing a single layer, mostly short sleeves.

He really didn't have time to question you. You were a smart enough private...smart enough for the OSS.  You never steered them wrong, why question you now?

Donny didn't quite notice. He was too fired up for the mission, "EYES FORWARD."

All of the basterds  stood at attention, their backs straight, hearts pumping adrenaline,  eyes definitely forward.

All of them, except for you.

Your eyes hurt, like everything else, your spine was tired, hardly able to hold you up. As Aldo went through the mission, you felt more and more spaced out. Every word seemed further and further away as you felt as if there was mounting pressure around your head.

You were aching, hardly able to hold up your head, struggling to stand, your knees were shaking.  You weren't scared.  Aldo was the only one that noticed, but he also knew that. It just wasn't like you.

"Y/n..."

You lifted your eyes to meet his. He saw the dark circles under your sunken eyes, "You're pale." He didn't waste an instant. He looked back to the closest thing they had to a medic, aside from you "Wicki!"

You stepped back, simultaneously balancing yourself, "I'm fine, Aldo."

Aldo sighed. You weren't really a liar. Everyone had been overworked lately. He knew you took missions seriously and decided you must be a mess from stress. It happened to the best of them...

... Aside from that, you were the only basterd that spoke French. The only that could get them through without blowing  the act.

You all moved out, toward your target.

Most of you...

Aldo couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. He turned around and did a quick head count.

Ten basterds total.

You were missing.

"Y/N?!"

Donny's heart stopped. Without a moment to lose, he bolted back the way you all came. He didn't run too far when he found you resting on one knee as you grappled onto a tree, vomiting.

"Oh fuck!" He ran toward you, though he hesitated for a split second when he reached you. Donny...wasn't particularly good at taking care of others. Not unless by 'taking care' you mean bashing a baseball bat into their brains. He loved you, and wanted more than anything to take care of you, but he didn't know his own strength at times, especially when he was scared.

Then he realized how helpless you looked. He crouched by you, pulled your hair away from your face and did what he vaguely remembered his mother doing when he was a kid. He tried rubbing your back, didn't know if it was helping or not. He just tried his best. "You...you don't look too good, kid."

You knew how important the mission was for him, for Aldo, for everyone...hell, for you. You struggled, your knees shook and you pulled yourself together and stood back up. 

Donny knew how stubborn and proud you could be. You were somewhere in the same league as Hugo sometimes...that was a story for another day....

But, he swiftly held on to you, seeing you were already swaying, and on the verge of collapsing. "Hey, hey. Whoa...its ok," he looked down at you, observed the beads of sweat rolling down your face, your strained red, tired eyes, and your pale, scalding skin. He cursed himself for not noticing earlier as he turned back, his heart racing. "WICKI GET THE FUCK OVER HERE."

Wicki had a scant amount of medical training... his sister was a vet...but he was useful enough for the basterds, until you came along. Most of what he knew he got from you. But you were known to be something of a hypocrite, and tended to not take care of yourself half as well as you took care of your basterds.

Not even a fraction as well as you took care of Sergeant Donny Donowitz.... Sometimes he acted out  a little, just to get your attention. Not that you had a problem with that...

He felt almost as helpless as you as he looked down at you, a feverish, limp heap. "Y/n..."

Wicki rushed through the bushes, followed closely by the rest of the basterds.

He didn't take much time, or even a genius for him to know that "There's no way she can go."

Somehow, beyond Donny's reason, you managed to shift out of his arms, and stumble, "I can go... I can-"

Donny caught you once more as Aldo shook his head, "No you ain't, soldier. You'sa stayin." Aldo was at a crossroad. Wicki was the medic, but they also needed him because he spoke German. Hugo was too recognizable to some of their targets.

Aldo hesitated, and thought on calling it all off. 

As bad as you looked, you still had eyes, and you still knew your lieutenant well. "At least go without me. I can take care of myself. Go."

Wicki shook his head, "Aldo, look at the state she's in. We can't leave her alone. Not like that."

Hugo sputtered "Wicki's right." As much as he held a facade, and made it seem like he could barely tolerate you, you were the only one that knew how to carry out a good, sound argument... in German no less. (Of course, Wicki spoke German, but he lost his head quickly with Hugo's ridiculous claims. ) Hugo respected you.

He'd never admit it, but even he cared about you.

Still, not like Donny did. And Omar knew it. It was mostly a joke, but he suggested, "Ya know, lieutenant... no one's going to take better care of her than Donny."

Wicki and Donny both turned to him, "What?!"

Aldo pondered on it for a second, reasoning that would mean Wicki would be able to go. And...Omar had a point.

Donny held on to you as he also thought about it. He didn't know much about taking care of people... but he had watched you intently every time you took care of an injured basterd.... every time you took care of him. You did more than that for him...

He wanted to take care of you, for once. He'd figure it out.

Aldo nodded, "Ok. Wicki you're  comin' with us. Donny, you'll  be takin care of her till we get back."

"But I..."

Aldo couldn't help but grin a little. He knew very well how much Donny loved you. Donny once almost drunkenly fought him over you after knowing you for less than a week. "That's an order."

Wicki turned to Donny, "You know where everything is, Donny?"

Donny nodded, and sounded almost disinterested in them, as he looked down at you, "Yeah, yeah, have fun..."

There was an exchange of smirks and mischievous glances between the other basterds as they marched on.

Donny picked you up bridal style. As weak as you were, you managed to mumble a protest. "Don, no, I can w-walk. "

"Don't lie to your sergeant." He grinned a little, expecting you to fire something back. He admired you for your sharp tongue and quick wit.

He was met with silence.

"Y/n?"

He glanced down, and realized you seemed to be drifting off. He usually loved holding on to you when you fell asleep. Sleeping by you was so calming to him... but right now, it worried him. It wasn't like you.  He'd never seen you so sick. He noticed you were holding onto your stomach.

"How long you been like this, doll?"

His voice was almost pleading.  He knew you well, and knew you wouldn't fess up easily.

"I woke up like this..."

He caught you chattering your teeth before you clenched your jaw so you wouldn't worry him. 

"You're a terrible liar, ya know that?" He smirked a little as your eyes met his.

"I know..." You managed to flash a weak smile at him, as you gave up and rested your pounding head against his strong, protective  arm.

"So...how long's it been, doll?"

"Dont..." You shook your head trying to pull yourself together, "Don't worry about me."

"You can ask anything. Anything in the world from me, doll,  except for that."

You lifted your eyes and spoofed, "Yeah?"

"Don't ask me to let go of you either."

"You know me too well." Your voice was weak, and you broke out into a cough.

He groaned in frustration. 

He thought he heard a few muffled, stifled, quiet coughs late in the night. He muttered, "God damn it, Y/n..." He sighed "You feel like shit, don't you?"

"....no..."

"I swear to God, Y/n-"

You were interrupted by a lone, wandering, possibly lost nazi. He screamed something, but his words whisped through your pounding head

Donny wasn't having it. He needed you to get better, he needed to see you smile, and hear you laugh again. 

"Fuck off." Donny let go of you, and  raised his gun in one movement, and took a shot through the nazi's forehead.

Donny quickly put his gun back, and balanced you in his arms again.

He wanted to take the scalp, but he wanted you to rest more.

"Fuck that guy, right Y/n?" He didn't get an answer, "Y/n?" He looked down and realized you pained face, and you were shivering.  He frowned, and started to pick up the pace,  "We're almost there, doll, hold on."

By the time he set you down in your bunk in the abandoned inn you all inhabited, he was worried. It wasn't easy to worry The Bear Jew. But you... well... It took quite some time for him to actually admit he cared about you, even if it was clear to everyone from the moment you met. After that, he let no one near you, not without a fight. He loved you, and only you. He couldn't bear to see you in any kind of pain.

"Sh... it's ok doll." He pulled some covers over you, "I..." He looked back, knowing he needed to get the medicine, but not wanting to you leave you alone. "I'm here. I will be.... I...I gotta go get some stuff, but you, you know what I mean."

He sounded distant and muffled, but you could tell he was flustered. It was rare, but when he got like that it was unbelievably adorable to you.

After what seemed like the blink of an aching eye to you, and a lifetime to him,  he came back. He sat by you, and you heard the rattling of pill bottles. You opened your eyes and saw a hazey, blurry face over yours... no matter how sick you were, you knew how hard he was trying.

"You're still shivering..." He brushed some hair behind your ear and you mumbled, "It's cold..."

"Cold?! Its..." He was in a tank top and sweating. He eyed all the layers you'd thrown on, "Fuck, y/n, you're gonna suffocate like that!" He pulled the covers off you, "I know you feel cold, but it's hot out, I don't want you to overheat later." He helped you take off a jacket...then another one, and a sweater, and left you with a blouse on. He took your boots off, and though he knew you normally hated sleeping with socks on, he let you keep them on. He helped you back into bed, and pulled the covers back over you.

He sighed, a little content with himself, and sat by you. He couldn't find a thermometer,  so he rested the back of his hand on your forehead. Your face was scalding, sweat was rolling down your forehead, and you were shivering. "Y/n..." He got up,  and disappeared from your line if sight. Half delirious, and perpetually worried about Donny, you propped yourself up on your shaking arms, "Donny... Donny?"

"Hey, hey... sh, it's ok, I'm here, doll." You felt his warm arms wrap around you as he sank by you. He gently pulled you back down to bed (though... He normally wasn't gentle when that happened...)

"I gotcha some tea, doll. And here..." He put a few pills on your hand, after having read and reread the labels to make sure you were getting what you needed.

He drank some tea himself. He wanted to keep himself healthy enough to take care of you as long as you needed. As the basterds' medic, you did enough for them... and went above and beyond for him. 

He wanted you to know how much you meant to him, even if you might've been delirious and may not remember a word he said, he said it anyway. "You don't know much I fucking love you, doll. I need you to get better."

"I'm sorry..."

His heart broke, even if you didn't know what world you were in, he knew your heart was always in the right place. "Hey, don't do that right now. You're sick, kid, you-"

"You should be out there with the boys... You really wanted to go, I-"

"I really wanna take care of you."

"But you've talked about it for so long..."

He sighed a little, and took the empty cup from your hand and set it down.  "Yeah, but I think about you all the time. The mission was important, but you mean everything to me, doll. Don't be sorry. You do everything for us, for me. Lemme take care of you, just this once."

You laid back silently, almost as if you'd given in. You didn't have much of a choice to begin with...

"You feel any better, kid?"

You were silent. Even when you were half out of your mind with feverishness, you refused to let your guard down.

"Y/n, come on..."

But when you looked at Donny's worried eyes, you knew he meant it.

"I'm... I'm cold..."

He really didn't know what else to do, so he did the only thing he could think of.

He slipped under the cover with you, and wrapped his arms around you.

"No, I...I don't want you to get sick."

"So you admit it?" He smirked a little and you still protested, "Donny."

"It's ok, doll." You knew there was no way you were going to move him. You finally gave in. He smiled a little as you snuggled your head against his chest. He held you tight, resting his chin over the top of your head.

Some time passed, and you were beginning to drift to sleep when you heard his voice.

"You still cold, doll?"

You didn't have much of a voice left, and you were half asleep, so you simply smiled.

He peered over a little, and saw that smile, and your soft expression. He knew you weren't  hurting as much anymore. You weren't sweating. He let you sleep. He was relieved. But even if you were feeling a bit better, he still held on to you. You were his everything, and even if it wasn't much, he did whatever he could if it made you feel better. He planted a kiss on your forehead, and closed his eyes, with a sigh. He could hear the basterds laughing and joking in the distance.

He would've loved to have been part of the mission, and have a couple more scalps around his belt, holding on to his bloody bat.

But there was nothing that he loved more than you, and nothing else he'd rather be holding on to than you.

[dopescotlandwarrior]

The Dancer-Chapter Three

                                A special thanks to @statell​ for all the help

Previous chapters on AO3 

Chapter Three

The day after Hogmanay, the world looked completely new and different to Jamie. It always did because of his mother telling him about the new year, fresh beginnings and a casting off of mistakes and baggage from the year before. Gather yer blessins to take into the new year and forget the rest, she would say.

Jamie spent time hiking the hills where ever the snow would allow. He needed to be alone in the uncomplicated outdoors so his twisted mind could unravel, set goals for the new year, and dream about a lovely future. His mother’s voice was heard again telling him to have a picture in his mind of where he wanted to be in a year. “Make a braw picture in your in mind so yer feet will know which way to go, Jamie boy.”

By this time next year… Hmm Reunite with his childhood friends and celebrate Hogmanay together. He would see the finished barn he promised Jenny he would build for her, three years ago. Hiking and climbing once a week to build his strength and overall health. He would pay it forward in Edinburgh, he and Claire, with reading programs, book clubs and free classes for computers and creative writing.

He would have to open another store this year but this time he would find a way to pull any local bookseller into his project rather than leave them to mourn.

He would keep his workweek to forty hours, well fifty at most, when the new project was underway.

Jamie was smiling as he saw Lallybroch in the distance. He felt better and he had a plan. Throughout his hike and planning the coming year, the veiled girl beckoned him. Get outa my head temptress, ye mean nothin to me, he thought.

Claire had danced at many celebrations during the holidays and it was time to treat herself with some new clothes. She would not feel buyer’s remorse because the bank account would hardly notice the loss of Benjamins. Still, she called in reinforcement to prevent her from bolting at the first price tag.

“Geillis, I am walking into Epitome right now and if you don’t hurry, I promise to buy every beige garment I see.”

“Impossible Claire because I’m already here with a full dressin room waiitin for ye. Look up for Christ’s sake before ye crash into the makeup counter.”

When Claire looked up, there was Geillis pointing to a dressing room. Claire was surprised by all the color in the garments and she balked saying she wouldn’t feel comfortable wearing any of it.

Geillis held a beautiful royal blue sweater out for her. “Ye wear leggings underneath and boots that fit yer calf or ankle boots with a heel for date night. Jesus Claire, dinna roll eyes at me, ye need to consider going out with a man when one of them asks ye.”

“They only ask when I dance, and the shock of seeing the real me will have them running for the hills I’m afraid.”

“So we lessen the chasm between ye and the other ye and it starts with color and beautiful clothes. Dinna forget I’m with ye enough to know ye made a small fortune over the holiday. I think Omar is jealous, God knows I am. What about this one?”

For the rest of the afternoon, the girls ran from one shop to another as Claire’s back seat filled with her brave purchases. Sweaters, leggings, scarfs, boots, tops, jeans, a tailored coat and soft comfortable dresses for curling up on a couch or chair for a book club meeting. Claire was feeling braver and laughing more, until Geillis put the fear of God into her heart by stopping at a salon. It was the best in Edinburgh, so she marched inside to make Claire an appointment.

The man behind the counter was model gorgeous with jet black hair and crystal blue eyes. His wide mouth was adorned with a trimmed mustache that made his white teeth sparkle. Geillis started at the top of his perfect head and devoured bite-size pieces hoping he was tall and hung like a horse.

Claire raced in after Geillis to stop her and witnessed her friend morph into a purring, circling, huntress. His name was Joseph and he had a cancellation and could take Claire right now. Claire rapidly shook her head no, but Geillis forgot how to hear as she pulled her reluctant friend to follow Joseph. He led the ladies into his own private room and barely heard a word from Claire before he started cutting. Claire looked from Geillis to the stylist and figured neither one would be communicating with her now, so she closed her mouth and her eyes. She could hear some lady in the main salon complaining bitterly that she had been on Joseph’s waiting list for a year and this was just not fair!

Claire hated her hair since she was old enough to have an opinion. It was frizzy-curly that she tamed with loads of hairpins and detangler. It was like a curse on her feminity because she never could style it, wear it down or in a ponytail. On her rare trips to the bedroom for sex she would emerge looking quite like Einstein with a red face. He could shave it off for all she cared. It was why she loved wearing wigs so much.

Joseph was wrapping Claire’s hair in large plastic rods, allowing Geillis to flirt and toss her hair like some crazy person. Claire peaked up at the two of them and noticed Joseph was caught in her web, like a hooked fish that Claire hoped knew how to cut hair. The eyes closed and her mind practiced her new routines until she felt Joseph take her hand.

The amount of hair on the floor was staggering and Claire’s hand instantly reached for her head but only touched the plastic rods. She was seated and then laid back with her neck locked into a U shaped cut out in the ceramic sink. It was like a torture device sculpted for maximum pain that was quickly getting worse. She looked up and saw both faces above her, but they were talking to each other and didn’t seem to notice her. It can’t get any worse she thought until freezing water gushed out of a hand-held sprayer that soaked her face dripping into her sweater.

The big rods were removed, one more soaking and a towel dropped on her face as Geillis pulled Joseph into a corner to play with his hair. Claire held the towel to her dripping hair and sat down in the stylist’s chair that was unfortunately turned away from the mirror. Claire twisted her head trying to see what had become of her hair until she was jolted back by Joseph man-handling the towel and squeezing the water out of her hair. Claire glared at Geillis.

Next, a loud blow dryer was following chunks of her hair wound around a brush as Joseph’s expert hands pulled and twisted sections of hair while staring at Geillis. It wasn’t intolerable. The warm air was chasing away the cold from her wet sweater. A rather large razor edge was pulled down taught sections of hair around her face and her large eyes watched it twist and turn an inch from her skin. The blow dryer once again and then the cape was pulled off her with flourish. Claire felt the chair drop slowly as Joseph turned her toward the mirror.

Claire stared at her reflection with wide eyes that looked bigger and her lips looked more prominent. She pulled herself out of the chair and leaned toward the mirror where she looked at her features an inch from the glass. Her eyes gorged on her amazing hair for five minutes. Where did all this bouncy, straight hair come from, she wondered. Her bangs were cut very long and angled to sweep across her face covering one eye. Holy fucking Christmas, she thought, this was a mad miracle and she was desperate to find out how to style it like this.

“Joseph! I lov…” They were kissing and Joseph held her coat out to her. Guess that’s my cue to leave, she thought. Good thing Geillis had her own car. Claire tossed a folded hundred-dollar bill on the front desk and told the person it was for Joseph. Paid in full or just the first installment, Claire didn’t give a rip. For now, anyway, the cursed hair looked as good as the bouncing bobs that shined on the magazine covers. She raced home to stare at herself and try everything on, twice.

Toppled boxes and bags were strewn across Claire’s studio floor. She had pulled her makeup organizer out and was sitting on the floor in full light an inch from the mirror. Every ten minutes or so she ran to the bathroom to wash her face and start over. The laptop glowed next to her and she typed Eva Mendes into Google and looked closely at her favorite eyes in Hollywood. She was determined to learn, and scrubbed her face three more times, blinking back stinging tears to answer her ringing cell phone.

“Claire, my dahling, a pipe ruptured in the kitchen and the restaurant is closed until next week. Three days they tell me so go visit relatives and rest, aibnatu.” Claire smiled at the Arabic daughter reference and jumped back in front of the mirror. She carefully plucked at her eyebrows using Eva Mendes as a reference again. She went painstakingly slow to avoid a catastrophic patch pulled out by accident. An hour later she moved her eyeballs from one brow to the other, happy with the arc.

Claire was nervous about wearing her new clothes and hair in public. She still felt like she was playing dress-up and did not want to embarrass herself. Geillis was still not answering her cell and Claire was getting bored. She pulled her new coat on and looked at all sides in the mirror. What’s the worse that can happen? Somebody points at my ridiculous clothes behind my back? No biggie. She reached for her purse and left.

Jamie would be long gone at this hour, so she decided to check out the bookstore in his absence and take a look at the side rooms used for kid stories and adult book club meetings. It was a perfect place to find her confidence. Brightly lit, she would know if people were laughing at her. She parked and exhaled a billowing cloud of steam in the twenty-degree interior of her car.

There were two large carousel doors in the front of the store and stepping into one she looked up at a man on the other side of the glass pushing his way outside and staring at her. Claire looked at the floor convinced the man had dropped something. Looking up she realized she missed her opportunity to exit into the store and had to go around again. I am sure no one saw that she decided.

The store was gigantic, and Claire felt her heart race as she read the section names placed high on the shelves to lead people to what they sought. Claire knew where Jamie’s office was from the one time she was here and made sure it was dark before venturing in. She was free to explore the store unnoticed and felt a rush of excitement to see as much as possible.

Jamie pretended to eat as he pushed the peas and carrots around his plate making small talk with Jenny and his best friend Ian. He was lost in his daydreams of spinning veils and exotic eyes, hoping Jenny would not ask him about it. Strangely, Jenny and Ian were getting on like two peas in a pod and hardly noticed him. Once supper was cleaned up, he slipped away and headed for the restaurant and the dancer who would not leave his head.

The closer he got the faster he drove until he looked up at a dark building and empty parking lot. He circled around and read the note about the closure due to plumbing. Christ, he would surely implode waiting until next week to see her. He rolled out of the parking lot heading for the bookstore. Dropping in on the night manager and his staff could pay dividends in future months. Maybe the night wasn’t a total bomb after all.

Once inside the store Jamie kept close to the shelves where he could observe the staff, happy and helpful, going from music to video games and back to books, assisting customers. It made him content to see such productive employees looking for people to help. He continued to stroll through the store, watching for problems, or lazy staff running out the clock. He watched his newest hire helping a petite brunette in the classics section. She moved away and Jamie continued his lazy spying as he walked through the store. He smiled thinking he should get back to Ian before Jenny chewed his ears off with her continuous conversation. He walked along the row of rooms and offices noticing the brunette sitting inside a room with comfortable couches and chairs. The walls were glass so he could watch her as he walked. He felt something vaguely familiar about her but realized her glorious ass and legs would have been cataloged in his head, like every other pretty girl in Edinburgh.

Jamie leaned against the door to open it enough to speak to her.

“Excuse me, lass. This room is dedicated to the book clubs. There are couches scattered throughout the store if ye like to read a bit.”

“Book clubs, that sounds interesting. Who leads the club if I might ask?”

“Claire Beauchamp is in charge of our community programs.”

“Is she any good?”

“Oh yea, quite good.”

Jamie was trying to back out of a conversation he never wanted in the first place. When long legs were uncurled from under the woman, he was momentarily halted so he could watch skin tight jeans and boots. He could be running down the street with his hair on fire, but he would stop to watch gorgeous legs swing out of a car. Being temporarily diverted by the anatomy of the opposite sex was part of being a man he always thought.

“I am very close to Claire Beauchamp actually.”

The woman passed through the door under Jamie’s arm and then turned to look at him in the light of the store. Jamie stared at her momentarily confused.

“It’s me, Mister Fraser, Claire Beauchamp,” she said smiling. “I didn’t have to work tonight and got bored, so I came by to see the rest of the store. I hope you don’t mind.”

“What have ye done to yerself?”

“Oh, I…I…” Claire’s hand reached up and touched her shoulder-length hair and looked nervously for an escape.”

Oh my God lass, he thought, I meant that in a good way. Ye have eyes, he thought, surely ye can see what’s right in front of your face.

He slowed himself down and looked at her like he was appraising a beautiful work of art for sale.

“Ye know Sassenach, I’ve seen my share of makeovers, but none like this. He circled around her showing his appreciation. Claire’s cheeks blushed at his scrutiny, her confidence soared and she giggled at his exaggerated gawking.”

“It was nice to see you, Mister Fraser, I have to get home, goodnight.”

“Ah, two things Sassenach, how do I contact ye? For the community programs, I mean.”

Claire pulled the phone from his hand and punched in her number hearing the muffled ring in her purse. She looked up at him, “and the other thing?”

Jamie was still staring at her trying to see all the changes. “Wednesday.”

“Wednesday?”

“Aye, C’mon, I’ll walk ye to yer car.”

They walked together to the other side of the store. Jamie waved at a few people but otherwise looked at Claire. There was something unsettling about the changes in her. It was making him feel weird, happy, confused and sad all at the same time. Aside from her momentary anxiety when he said something stupid, she was like a new woman and reminded him of someone, but who?

Jamie failed to rally his senses before she dropped into her car. He turned to walk back to the store and looked when she called his name.

“What is happening on Wednesday?”

“Ye, here, and a bunch of wee ones, aye?”

“I will see you then Mister Fraser.”

A fortuitous meeting he thought, looking at her number on his phone. I’ll get the reading programs up and running before I leave for Glasgow.

Jamie did not spend much time at a new store. Once it was opened and running smoothly, he was off to build another one.

A new store was a complex project that easily lost money from delays, inept contractors, expensive labor, and a million other factors. Jamie had commercial construction experience and hired on, nine years ago, as an assistant project manager. The job took him to cities all over Europe and America. He was home for holidays and vacations, otherwise, he was gone.

Halfway through his first year as assistant project manager, he received a formal invitation to a meeting of the full board the following month. The next day he received a phone call from the secretary of one of the members and later a large envelope was hand-delivered to him with plane tickets and a cashier’s check for one thousand dollars.

Jamie walked off the plane after landing in Germany and felt a small hand attached to an arm that linked through his. A pretty woman in business attire pulled him into a limo and handed him an apple martini while giving instructions to the driver in German. The woman sat close beside him and peeled off her jacket as Jamie gorged himself on her jutting chest and fat red lips. She dragged him through men’s clothing stores where a lucky few could afford to shop until his interview suit was complete.

The woman watched him get in and out of his clothes at least a dozen times during the afternoon and when it was clear they were done she looked at her watch and then pushed him into a seat in the dressing room while pulling her blouse off. She was completely naked bouncing on Jamie’s lap and all he could do is hang on. His twenty years on earth had not prepared him for this thrilling experience, nor had the many dropped panties delivered him to the promised land quite like she did.

One month later, haircut and manicured hands, wearing a tailored suit and shiny shoes, Jamie met the members of the board for the first time. They had vetted Jamie so thoroughly they knew his test results in Chemistry from his sophomore year in high school. Millions of dollars would be gambled on his ability in the next ten years and the board gave him no quarter as they questioned his course of action in one impossible scenario after another.

After three hours they all broke for lunch and vaporized except for one man. Clearly the youngest of the board members, he poured the world’s best whisky into a cut crystal glass and handed it to Jamie.

“You are doing remarkably well Mister Fraser. You can relax because you’re already hired. Now comes the negotiation for salary and benefits. I cannot be seen coaching you so listen carefully, “tell them you want ten years as project manager followed by first right of refusal for every position that opens in the next grade up, forever. It will guarantee a life of promotions until you get dizzy from a fear of heights.” He poured Jamie another shot of the whisky he would remember for the rest of his life.

“Good luck friend.” In seconds, Jamie was alone feeling his bravery assert itself. What the hell, he thought, friend or foe, he had a good feeling about the man. Jamie drained his glass and when the board reconvened, he gambled his career on the advice of a total stranger.

Steal gray eyes regarded Jamie under thick white eyebrows. Thin lips pressed together in a straight line across his deeply lined face. You could hear a pin drop in that room and Jamie wondered if the members could hear his ramming heart. He remembered his boss working seventy or more hours per week, missing the birth and growth of his kids, saying he had to make money while the opportunity lasted. Complaining his six-figure income would end after ten years and he would settle into managing whatever store they gave him, at a lower salary, for the rest of his career.

When they offered the same package to Jamie, he stood at the end of the conference table with all eyes waiting for him to pledge his extraordinary life to corporate slave labor. He dropped his head for a minute of quiet before he threw the dice.

“My mother taught me to always know where I want to be, so my feet know which way to go.” He looked up at the man on the other end of the table. “I have a braw picture of my life before my dyin day,” he gave them a half-smile, “and I willna get there with yer offer. I’m sorry gentlemen, I respectfully decline.”

Jamie sat down, shaking from his feet to the crown of his head, silently invoking the love of his parents and the power of Lallybroch to carry him through the rest of the meeting.

The white eyebrows asked Jamie to step out just as the door opened and the sexy secretary found his eyes, smiling her intent. She led him to a hallway and pushed him into a couch, then turned her attention to a flask and a shot glass pulled out of her briefcase. Jamie was so tired. He stared at the shot glass anticipating the lovely feeling it would bring. The woman handed it to him and told him to toss it back. He did.

The phone in the woman’s purse vibrated and she stood, bending over to press her tongue into Jamie’s mouth as she kissed him.

“Good luck” she whispered into his ear and disappeared around the corner seconds before the conference room door opened.

Eight board members filed past Jamie, smiling and shaking his hand. White eyebrows was the last in line and told Jamie to expect an offer in the next two days. It would be hand-delivered and it would rock his world.

He was feeling better, almost like superman as he walked to the exit of the building. Hearing his name, he turned around as the young board member caught up to him.

“Last bit of advice Jamie. In eleven years you will wonder what gift to send me as thanks for how I helped you today.” He pressed the bottle of whiskey into his hand. “I want a case of this.” He smiled with his perfect teeth, “It’s my favorite.”

Jamie watched Claire drive out of the parking lot and returned to the store. Jumping stairs two at a time to his office he left the lights off and drifted to sleep on his couch. Sometime in the dead of night, when unanswered questions are brought to the light, Jamie dreamed.

The dancer was twirling across the room straight toward him. He watched her like a statue, made of concrete and powerless to move. She stopped spinning six inches from him. She spoke rapid Arabic and he could only watch her mouth until she said “Jamie.”

His eyes snapped to her eyes. She spoke to him! Finally! She was pointing to something and his eyes followed the line she pointed to. He saw, in the distance, the room in his store where he found Claire. She sat on the floor with wee ones sitting all around her as she read to them.

The dancer was pointing furiously at Claire, ”love her,” said in her broken English.

Jamie looked back to the dancer. There was love in his eyes, he could feel it. “I love you, I must be with you.”

The dancer took Jamie’s hand and led him across the floor approaching the dressing room. Before she entered the room, she turned around and Jamie saw she was sobbing and then she looked at Claire.

“Please.” Said through her tears. Jamie felt his mind snap having her so close to him. He looked around at the empty restaurant. They were alone and he would have his way with her.

“Jesus!” Jamie yelled in his sleep and his eyes flew open. “Ah diah!” His office was pitch black and the store was empty. He felt the huge erection that pulsed between his legs, his balls were pulled up tight to his body and stung like they were being poked by a live wire. He was literally seconds from ejaculation. All he had to do is close his eyes and see her kneel in front of him and his pain would turn to pleasure. Jamie was panting and conflicted, crazy angry at letting himself go back to her, even in his head.

“Leave me alone ye cunt!” He was seething mad just wanting a way out of this nightmare. “I dinna bide with rape but if it would rid yer presence in my head, I would break yer bones with my brutality.”

Jamie grabbed his coat and ran for his car feeling completely out of control. The speedometer pushed into the criminal zone as he sped through Edinburgh. Where is a cop when ye need one, he wondered? He had to be punished for thinking he could harm another person, especially a woman. A night in jail would be helpful, jar him back to reality before his well-constructed life crumbled around him. He raked a hand through his hair then gripped the steering wheel, hating the shaking that vibrated his fingers like he was as weak as a bairn.

Jenny couldn’t see him this way, just in case she was awake, so he drove the back roads until his tank was almost empty.

Being unsuccessful at getting arrested and nearly running his gas tank dry, Jamie turned into the Lallybroch driveway and sat in the quiet of his truck. Dawn was breaking across the fields and he saw himself running through the corn stalks as a lad with a single concern to get home before he was late for supper. He desperately wished he could go back in time, before his mistakes, and try again to be the man his parents raised.

He took a deep breath and walked to the front door noticing Ian’s car was still where he left it. Jamie wondered if he was sacked out on the couch and felt the sting of guilt for leaving like he did. Setting the alarm for two hours he dropped into bed. Sleep came quickly as she wrapped her cadaverous long fingers around his defenseless brain.

[the-jade-cross]

Journey to Middle Earth - Chapter 14

Summary – What if JRR Tolkien never gave Thorin a love story… because the person that was meant to be Thorin’s was not yet born when he wrote the Hobbit? Sara journeys from her world to Middle Earth after an accident, with a mission. To change something about the Hobbit story… but she is not sure what. What she does not know is that while trying to prevent something from happening, something new might arise between her and the dwarf prince….even if it is not on the agenda!

Warnings – None, no explicit scenes, some kissing, violence, frightening creatures, mentions of abuse.

Pairings – Thorin Oakenshield x OC

Sara knew that if she explained the danger Thorin was in, she would get some reactions. While most of the company carried on like normal but did make an effort to keep an eye on Thorin, Bilbo went so far as to try and wiggle the details out of Sara and once or twice, she almost did. They would be talking about something completely unrelated and Bilbo was throw in a question asking who Thorin was in danger of and Sara would almost answer him if she didn’t have such quick reactions.

She had only told them that in the previous timeline, Thorin was in danger. She didn’t specifically mention when, where or by whom and didn’t tell them that Fili and Kili were involved in the matter. Not on did she notice a change in the dwarves because of this information, but they also treated her differently. They always made sure that she never got the night watch shifts and Nori, Ori and Dori had even helped her clean Thorin’s chamber so she could sleep in a well-lit, clean bedroom.

Because Oin was not with them, Balin took it upon himself to monitor what foods and smells Sara encountered to eliminate the girl’s feelings of nausea and vomiting. Bombur always reserved extra servings of food for Sara and Dwalin always ensured that Thorin and Sara were at least six feet apart. (Social distancing pun intended;))

Sara appreciated their help and the thoughtfulness but she began to worry that Thorin would notice the change and begin to suspect why Sara was getting special treatment.

Not only that, even though Sara tried to avoid an argument with Thorin for the sake of her very high emotions and for the baby’s wellbeing, she missed him dearly and with the doubling of her “guard”, she never got a moment alone with him.

In that case, she decided to go against Dwalin’s advice of plenty of sleep in the safely locked royal chamber and snuck out to locate the dwarf prince.

This proved simple since everyone who wasn’t Thorin or the one on guard were in an ale stupor. Slipping into the treasure room, Sara found Thorin pouring over a table of teeny tiny white, pink and blue gems.

“Thorin?” she whispered softly in the hopes of not surprising him.

The dwarf spun around even though her voice had been soft, and his face lit up, “Givashel! I thought you were asleep,”

Sara almost saw a glimpse of the old Thorin then but then she realized that he didn’t call her by her name…. but by “my treasure”…

“I couldn’t sleep and I thought…” she started.

Before she could invite him to rest, Thorin had jumped up and grabbed something from the table and held it out to her with a huge smile.

“This will make you happy.” He said, holding out the most beautiful ring Sara had ever seen with a pale pink gem in the center of the golden band, “It is better than that trash I made you in the mountain village.”

Sara bit her lip. She had grown fond of the solid gold band that Thorin had fashioned for her on the day of their marriage. It was simple but made of love…

“It is beautiful Thorin,” she said, noticing how sunken in his eyes and cheeks were from lack of sleep.

When she made no move to take it, Thorin’s smile faded into a frown, “You do not like it!?”

“No, I love it…” Sara assured him, taking the ring from his waiting hands and slipping it onto her ring finger, right above her original wedding ring. “I just… I am worried about you! You never eat or sleep. You’re gonna kill yourself at this rate!”

“I do not need to be babied!” Thorin growled.

“I am not babying you! I am caring about you! I am your wife and it is by duty!” Sara snapped.

Thorin grabbed her wrists and pinned her against the wall, “And that is the only reason?”

Sara felt her heart drop. Was that why he was snappy with her? Because he thought she only did things because they were married? The girl gently reached up and touched his pale cheek, feeling tears prick her eyes at the pain in his orbs.

“No, because whenever I see you sad or in pain, I breaks my heart,” She whispered.

His eyes shining with tears, Thorin dipped down slowly and brushed his lips over hers before pausing as if testing the waters.

“I love you,” Sara murmured.

That was the only invitation Thorin needed before he caught her lips in a full kiss.

Sara half expected it to be heated with hunger and anger and was surprised when she felt his body tremble from emotion, his lips caressing hers gently and full of love. When Sara looped her arms around his neck, Thorin took the invitation and scooped her into his arms. Not breaking the kiss, he took her to their bed chamber.

When Sara woke to the birds chirping, she no longer felt the warm and secure arms that had embraced her all night, nor the gentle breathing noises and the soft lips that had fallen asleep pressed to her forehead. The girl sighed, burying her face in the plush pillow to muffle the whimpers and sobs that ripped from her throat as her heart shattered. She was jolted from her misery by a loud echoing voice that called out.

“Hello!? Bombur…. Bifur…. Anyone!”

The girl was up in an instant, clothing her naked form before pouring warm water on her face in the hopes of easing her red, puffy eyes.

When she burst from her room, she almost tripped over Mason who had come in search of his master. She stumbled into the dining room just in time to find Oin, Bofur, Fili and Kili happily embracing their fellow dwarves. Oin was the first to notice Sara and his eyes widened at the sight of the flushed, slightly more round than he remembered, snuggling into a sweater young girl.

“Mahal…”

All eyes turned to Sara and the girl was engulfed by Fili and Kili who began chattering her ear off.

“You’re alright!” Kili screeched.

“Axel and Omar send their best,” Fili assured her.

As the two brothers ranted, Oin pushed through and touched Sara’s abdomen, examining her and the girl was happy that he chose to not mention the puffy red eyes that she had managed to disguise from everyone but Oin who never missed a thing.

“Lass, you are with Bairns!” he whispered.

Sara’s eyes widened, “Bairns…. As in multiple!?”

Oin nodded with a huge smile, “With your size and how much you are already showing, there is no way it could be two… lass, I think you might be carrying three!”

********

“Twins!?” Dwalin whisper-yelled, “Oin, perhaps half of your brain got roasted by dragon fire.”

Oin shook his head, never taking his eyes off the petite red head who’s eyes shone with joy and love but her face sheet white with worry and fear.

“The lass has already begun to show. She is barely a week and already she has the motherly glow and her symptoms are kicking in. This does not usually happen till the fourth or fifth week.”

“We thought that because the Bairn is part human, part dwarf that it would explain the early symptoms,” Balin intervened.

Oin nodded, “That is so, that would explain the symptoms but Sara is already bumping which can only be explained by the number of bairns she carries.”

Sara glanced down at her abdomen and smoothed the sweater she wore, only to realize that Oin was right. Sara had never been one to worry about her weight and she had not realized that her loose pants and sweater hid the barely noticeable bump. She looked at Oin, her face shining with worry.

“How long do you think the pregnancy will be?”

Oin pursed his lips in thought, “At the most…. Four to five months.”

“And the earliest?” Balin asked, interrupting Dwalin who had been about to ask the same question, leaving him with his mouth open.

“Considering the facts…” Oin mumbled, “One to two months.”

Sara’s eyes bulged, “So as far as we know, I could be about a fifth or fourth through my pregnancy?”

Oin nodded, “Aye. Your appetite will continue to grow and you will begin craving strange foods.”

Sara did not really worry about that for she knew it would come but her mind was buzzing. Azog would be attacking Erabor and Dale in the next two days… she needed to leave the mountain and come up with a plan. Not only that, she needed to ensure that her brothers would be safe during the battle.

“I’m gonna be a cousin!” Kili hooted.

Fili was about to join in with the celebration when Dwalin whacked them over the head to shut them up just as the door opened and in strode Thorin.

“Everyone to the gate, now!” he growled.

As the prince began to leave, the company looked to Sara, only to realize from the look in her eyes that it was the Laketown people arriving. Sara hurried over to Thorin and grasped his forearm. The dwarf looked at her with no expression in his pale blue eyes.

“You stay here. We need to take care of this.”

Sara nodded, not bothering to object, “I will see you later Thorin.”

With that, she stood on tiptoe and planted a loving kiss on his lips. Thorin did not react but Sara knew that the dwarves were staring with worried looks on their faces, knowing that her words were not really “see you later” but “goodbye for now”.

The girl looked at the dwarves and smiled gently at them before exiting the room. She hurried down the corridors to her chamber and she dove in, locking the door behind her. She needed to move quickly. Thorin would begin to rebuild the gate and she didn’t want him to realize her absence. Grabbing her bag, she loaded her knife, notebook, gun and a few pairs of clothes in before strapping her bow and swords to her back. She turned to Mason and softly told him to follow her only to open the door and find a small pouch on the floor outside with a note attached to it.

Sara, be safe. Use the hidden door to leave and give my best to Ryder, Omar and Axel. We will miss you until we meet again. Bombur insisted that you take the food in the pouch. It will last you a few days. Dwalin also put in a bag of explosive dust. He said that it might help you with your plan. Keep safe my queen. – Balin.

Sara smile and hastily placed the pouch in her began before rushing down the corridors to where the hidden door was. She halted as she passed the treasure room. No point in leaving a note in the bedroom since Thorin never went there. She reached to her pocket and drew out the letter she had written Thorin before pinning it to the door of the treasure room. Takin gone last look over her shoulder, she slipped up the staircase, through the hidden door and into the fresh air. She looked down at Mason who stood by her side like a sentry. She then reached down and rubbed her stomach before feeling tears prick her eyes.

“Don’t worry babies. We will see your daddy again… and he will be alive. I promise you.”

Shifting her bag and weapons, she began the slow climb down the stairs with mason following closely behind. They had just reached the bottom when Sara froze and touched the stone that made up a good amount of the surrounding rock.

“Magnesium…” She whispered.

Her mind raced back to the time when Axel practically forced her to watch ‘Journey to the Center of the Earth’ staring Josh Hutcherson for school. Sara’s face lit into a huge smile and she turned to Mason.

“I’ve got an idea,” she whispered, “Good thing Dwalin gave me extra explosives.”

About six hours later when Thorin made his way back to the treasure room after leaving the rest of the company to continue stacking stone, he was confused to find a small piece of paper tied to the door. Thinking perhaps it was another letter from Sara asking him to get some rest and eat, he made to tear it off and crumble it when he noticed two words that made him freeze.

I’m sorry.

He quickly unraveled the crumpled letter and scanned the letter hastily before reading it a second time, very slowly this time:

Dear Thorin,

I’m sorry that I am telling you this in a letter instead of in person, but I know that if I tried to explain the situation to you in person, you would not let me leave. I am leaving to go to Dale for a while. I need to check on my brothers and ensure that they are safe and well. I promise, I am not leaving you nor betraying you, but this is something I have to do to ensure that nothing terrible happens to anyone. Please trust me and know that I love you more than you can even imagine. Be strong Thorin and fight this sickness that has changed you. Remember, I will love you no matter what, but you have to fight this.

I love you with my whole heart.

Your wife, Sara

Thorin hadn’t realized it but by the time he had read the letter a fourth time, a single tear had escaped his eye and he stood there frozen, not believing what had just happened…. But his pain and misery was soon ended when he heard the company talking and he returned to his serious self, storming into the treasure room, leaving the letter abandoned on the floor.

*******

When Sara and Mason slipped through the back entrance of Dale, she was glad to find that almost all the inhabitants were at the front gates, welcoming Thranduil, his army of elves and his carts of food. However, the joy at having an easy entrance was clouded by fear. She only had till morning to get a plan under way. She did not have to look far before she rounded a corner and smacked into a hard chest, spluttering an apology.

“Sara?” A familiar, deep voice rumbled.

Sara lifted her eyes and a huge grin split across her face when she recognized the tall, bear like figure of Zain.

“You’re okay!” Sara squealed, throwing her arms around the big man’s abdomen. When she pulled away, she noticed a silver bracelet on his thick wrist and her eyes widened. Grace had told her that human custom was instead of beads, two betrothal silver bracelets were used to signify the members of an engagement or betrothal.

“And engaged!” Sara chirped with joy at the blush on Zain’s smiling face as he tried to hide behind his curls.

The tall man smiled and nodded, “Aye, Rose is a special girl.”

Sara’s eyes widened further, “Rose!? As in the Rose from the mountain village!?”

Zain nodded and Sara breathed a sigh of relief, “She and Deke… are they okay? What about my brothers?”

Zain nodded, “Deke and Rose are well. They are with Grace and the kids. Axel, Omar and Ryder are over here…”

Sara joyfully followed Zain to a corner of the marketplace to find her brothers sitting with Deke, Rose and Grace’s family. Omar was the first to see her and leapt to his feet, running over to embrace his big sister. As Axel and Ryder came for their hugs, Omar went to pet Mason.

“What are you doing her!?” Axel whisper yelled, “Shouldn’t you be with our husband?”

Sara bit her lip, “Thorin is too far gone. I need to come up with a plan to save him, Fili and Kili before dawn when Thranduil attacks Erabor and Dain appears.”

Axel nodded, “Whatever you need help with, you can count me in.”

Sara beamed at her brother, “I noticed that there is Magnesium all over Erabor. I need to find out if there is any on Ravenhill.”

Axel cocked his head quizzically, “Who or what are you planning on blasting to smithereens?”

Sara smiled, “I have got a backup plan for Thorin but I need to find out if there is Magnesium where Fili is…. “Killed”. And also to find out how to get him out of there.”

“What about Kili?” her brother quizzed.

Sara shook her head, “That is a part of the plan that I haven’t figured out yet.”

“If only Mithril weren’t so scarce,” Omar muttered.

Axel nodded in agreement when suddenly Sara’s eyes widened and she spun Axel around to face her, “Axel… you took those snorkeling diving lessons right?”

Axel nodded, “Yeah… .why?”

Sara smirked, “I need you to go swimming for something.”

All three of her brothers tilted their heads in confusion. Sara just smiled, “Mithril is not the only thing that is impenetrable.”

When Axel gave her a look as if to say, ‘you are making no sense and I cannot understand a thing you are saying’, Sara smirked.

“What did Thorin say to Bilbo about mithril?”

Omar hummed in thought, “no blade can pierce it.” Sara smiled, “And what did Bilbo tell Frodo?”

“Ooh!” Ryder squealed, “I know! He said… ‘As light as a feather and as hard as dragon scales’!”

All at once, her brothers caught onto what she was getting at and smiled in excitement.

Sara beamed, “Now, while you and Omar re off doing that, I am taking a hike up to Ravenhill.”

The girl got to her feet and made to call Mason hen the whiff of rotting, burnt bones from the past Dale inhabitants reached her nose and she doubled over, puking into a nearby corner, away from the others.

Grace hastily poured a mug of water while her husband helped hold back Sara’s hair as she emptied her stomach onto the gravel. After she finished and washed her mouth with water, she turned to find Axel looking at her suspiciously while Omar and Ryder looked highly concerned. “Well do that,” Axel remarked, “Right after you tell us the whole story. What is going on!?”

“Azog and Bolg will be attacking tomorrow,” Sara pointed out, trying to avoid the question, “It would be best if Grace, Rose and the kids left for the mountain village.”

“Sara Renee,” Axel said sternly, “What was the ulterior motive you had for leaving Thorin and Erabor?”

Sara opened her mouth to escape the real answer but Axel gave her a warning look.

The girl sighed, “You might be expecting a niece or nephew soon and because every event in Middle Earth is against us, you might meet them sooner than expected.”

**********

Sara did a full 180 degree turn as she studied the ledge where Azog would stand as he killed Fili. She scanned until her eyes fell on a particularly smooth layer of rock, right where Fili would land after Azog dropped him. If Azog happened to drop Fili over the ledge when Sara set her plan in motion, she needed to make sure Fili wouldn’t die from the fall. Sara ran her hands over the smooth rock, partially covered by snow which hid it well. How did it not break under Fili’s weight? Sara tapped the rock around the match of Muscovite and found that it was a narrow section of the thin rock… with water underneath? From the sound of it, it was a good amount of water… possibly an underground reservoir that connected to the lake and waterfall that was frozen over. Sara pulled out her sketch book and began to do the math.

“If the section is this wide… with this distance between the rock and the water… and Fili’s weight didn’t break it…and this weight would be needed to break through the rock…Then Fili’s weight should be around this much… so I would need this additional weight…. Rocks will work as good additional weight… just add the extra weight to the rock and when Fili drops….just need to know wone thing… how do you ask a guy how much he weighs!?”

******

“Do you think it will be just like in the movie?” Omar whispered as the four children watched Bard stand at the huge gate of Erabor, negotiating through the peephole. The four kids were sitting in the tower of Dale, peering over the railing in the hopes of not being spotted by a particular grump dwarf king.

“Either that or Thorin will poke bard’s eye out with an arrow through the hole,” Axel mumbled.

Sara poked her brother in a gentle scolding manner. Axel smirked, “Oh, Omar and I got that shipment you requested.”

He held up a small sack and Sara beamed, taking it off his hands and tucking it under her arm. “When Grace and Rose leave with the children tonight, Ryder and Mason must go with them. It is dangerous enough for Omar.” Sara whispered to Axel who nodded in agreement.

“You are going to the gate with Brad and Thranduil tomorrow right?” Axel whispered, “Anything you want me to tell Bilbo?”

Sara nodded, “Give him this,” She said, handing Axel a folded note, “And tell him to be careful.”

Axel smiled but being the curious teenage boy he was, he opened the note and read it.

“Sara, what goes through your head these days? I think the babies are getting to you! Why do you need to know Fili’s body weight? Are you using him as a mold for the baby’s clothes!?”

Sara smirked, “Don’t worry about it. I just needed to make sure I estimated his weight right. it is part of the plan.”

“What about Azog and Thorin? Did you figure out a plan B for Plan B in case Plan X fails and when that fails, if plan B might fail?”

Sara shook her head, “Hopefully Plan A or Plan A’s Plan B will work.”

Axel nodded with worry etched across his face, “You know you only have three shots left.”

Sara sighed, “I am well aware.”

“You have three shots to save the three dwarves,” Ryder chirped.

Sara smiled, “I wish life were that simple bro, but life has a way of working against you.”

“Which can also be titled: The existence of Azog and Bolg.” Omar muttered which made Axel’s blue eyes widen.

“Sara, Azog is out to destroy the line of Durin!”

“Duh!” Omar mumbled, “He’s out to deliver us peaches and pineapple!”

“Sara,” Axel whisper yelled, ignoring Omar, “You happen to be carrying the next two heirs of Durin!”

Sara shrugged, “Well I don’t make it a habit of telling orcs that I am pregnant with Thorin Oakenshield’s children who happens to be king under the mountain, the dwarf Azog is out to kill which happens to make me Queen of Era…. Oh no!”

“Now you get it,” Axel mumbled as his sister’s face paled.

“What is it?” Omar asked, confused.

“Looks like we’ll need a plan B for Plan B, second edition,” Axel remarked.

***********

“Bard!” Sara called, deciding to not call him Mr. Bard since that sounded too American. “Excuse me!”

Bard turned to see Sara hurrying over to him and he smiled, “What can I do for you little lady?”

“erm…” Sara mumbled, “My name is Sara…”

Bard’s eyes widened, “I have heard of you… you are a member of the company of Thorin Oakenshield.”

Sara looked down, “Not anymore.”

Bard’s face softened, “you ran away, like the halfling?”

Sara nodded, “I know that makes me look like a coward…”

“Not at all,” Bard assured her, “You had to do what was for the best to protect yourself.”

“I was wondering if I could ride out with you tomorrow when you declare war on Thorin?”

Bard’s eyes widened, “You knew of that?”

Sara nodded which seemed enough to convince Bard, “Very well, but on the condition, you ride on my horse behind me. If Thorin is angry to see you, I do not want you shot.”

Sara beamed and nodded, “Thank you!”

She made to leave when she heard a voice behind her, “So it is you.”

Sara spun around to come face to face with the elven king, Thranduil. She bowed her head but Thranduil lifted her chin with his finger and studied her face.

“When I heard that Thorin Oakenshield had taken a bride, I did not believe it,” he touched the beads in her hair and eyed the two rings on her finger, “But I see that it is true.”

The elf stepped back when he saw Sara’s eyes flare in warning at his close proximity.

“What inclined the queen of Erabor to leave her throne and spouse?” the elf king inquired.

Sara squared her shoulders, “I did not marry Thorin for his throne. Nor di I leave him. I left the mountain to protect him and his…”

When she cut herself off, Thranduil frowned but his sharp eyes caught sight of the slight bump that was visible beneath her tunic.

His eyes widened, “His heir… this may work to our advantage.”

Bard went to object to Thranduil’s selfish plan but Sara intervened. “I will cooperate but on my terms.”

“Fair enough,” the elf smirked.

*********

“Do I have to go?” Ryder pleaded, his arm around Mason’s fluffy neck s his brothers and sister bade him farewell.

Sara smiled as she kissed his curls, “it will be safer for you. Tomorrow Grace and Rose will bring you all back and everything will be well again.”

Ryder stuck out his bottom lip in a pout, “Don’t forget to consider the names I picked for the babies!”

“We don’t even know the gender yet,” Omar observed.

“Which names did you pick?” Axel inquired, “Legolas Jr. and Pippin?”

Ryder shook his head, “That was Ruby’s idea. I picked Charlie Brown and Snoopie.”

********

“You ready for this?” Bard whispered to Sara who sat perched behind him in the saddle, her arms around his middle, his tall stature hiding her from sight.

“Yeah… totally…” Sara whispered back, “I am totally ready to reveal to my ornery dwarf husband that I am pregnant with his twin children, I ran away because I was afraid of him and I knew that Bilbo had the Arkenstone…. Yeah…. Definitely.”

Bard chuckled softly before pulling his mare to a halt next to Thranduil’s elk. Sara cringed when she heard an arrow strike the ground in front of the elk and Thorin’s voice bellowed from above.

“The next one will be between your eyes,” Thorin growled, followed by the cheers of the company.

Sara stifled a giggle when she heard the dwarves gasp when the elves pulled their bows on them at the nod from Thranduil.

“Payment of your treasures has been offered and accepted,” Thranduil growled through his teeth.

“What payment? I gave you nothing! You have nothing!” Thorin bellowed angrily.

Bard reached into his coat and drew out the Arkenstone, “We have this!”

Sara felt a hand touch her leg and looked to see Gandalf standing there next to the horse, shrouded by his big grey hat and cloak, “Bilbo went back didn’t he?”

Sara nodded, “he will be fine… with a little help from you.”

Gandalf smiled before leaning up and whispering something to the girl who beamed with joy.

“The Arkenstone is in this mountain!” Thorin yelled, startling Sara, “It is a trick!”

Sara bit her lip, knowing that Bilbo had appeared.

“What do we do?” Bard whispered with worry, “Thorin may kill him!”

Sara shook her head, “Help me down in a moment…”

“Curse you!” Thorin bellowed at Bilbo, seeing red as he dragged Bilbo to the edge and pushed him half over, “And curse the wizard who chose you for this company!”

Thorin froze in his movements when he heard Gandalf’s rumbling voice call out, “If you dislike my burglar, then please do not hurt him, return him to me!”

Thorin loosened his grip on the hobbit who went scurrying away from him instantly and snuck down the rope while Thorin sneered at Gandalf.

“Never again will I have dealings with wizards or shire rats!” he hissed.

“You are not making a splendid figure as king under the mountain are you?” Gandalf retorted. “You have fallen so far into greed and envy that you drove your own wife away.”

“You know nothing about me!” Thorin growled, “Not me, nor Sara!”

At those words, Gandalf, Bard and Thranduil all turned to Sara who gripped Bard’s hand and slipped from his horse to come stand next to Gandalf. Thorin’s eyes widened at the sight of the girl and he let out a shaky breath.

“What are you doing with those traitors!” He snapped, his eyes darkening with anger but glistening with sadness.

Sara growled under her breath, “If anyone is a traitor it is you Thorin! You promised to love me and never hurt me. Well guess what? You hurt me! Even when you had me, you had Erabor… when you had everything it was not enough for you! Even if I had told you that I carry your child would it have been enough!”

Silence enveloped everyone and Thorin almost choked on his own breath, the darkness in his eyes fading to give way to a light of hope and joy… clouded by pain.

“You… this is just another trick… a plan to make me cave…” Thorin mumbled mostly to himself.

Sara scoffed before reaching down and smoothing her tunic to reveal the visible bump hidden beneath. Thorin froze and his eyes widened, tears springing to the sky-blue orbs.

“You hid this from me? Do you trust me so little!?” he almost muttered.

That struck a cord and Sara shouted so loud that even Thranduil jumped, “What did you expect me to do!? The day after we are married, you treat me like I do not exist! You never slept or ate and spent all day searching for a bloody rock! You treated your best friends and family like dirt! Did you expect me to hand you the news on a silver platter with a ‘here you are Thorin, another life that you can treat like a slave!’” Sara hissed, “Fat chance.”

Thorin seemed shaken by her words and his eyes glossed over with tears. Sara’s face softened at the sight.

“I love you Thorin, more than anything but I feel that you do not love me anymore. I have lost you… and I have to think of the baby. So until you find yourself again, I cannot be near you or on your side.”

When Thorin did not speak but turned to hide his face from Sara’s vision, the girl sighed. Not yet…

“Are we agreed?” Bard called, noticing that Sara was not going to speak further. “The return of the Arkenstone for what was promised? Will you have peace or war?”

Sara closed her eyes, awaiting the fateful answer.

“I will have war,” Thorin said just loud enough over the sound of approaching feet, 1000 fold.

Sara groaned as she turned to see the silver armored dwarves cross the crest of the hill. “Ironfoot. The more the merrier I suppose…”

Gandalf reached down and grabbed Sara by the hand who in turn grabbed Bilbo’s wrist and pulled them toward where the dwarves were approaching.

“Who is that?” Bilbo whispered. “Doesn’t look very friendly.”

“Thorin’s cousin Dain,” Sara replied. “Lord of the Ironhills.”

“Is he and Thorin… similar?” the hobbit inquired.

Gandalf paused for a second, “Thorin was always the more aggregable of the two.”

Bilbo looked at Sara with a completely distressed look and Sara smirked, “Stay close to Gandalf and make good choices. If you need help, Axel and Omar are defending Dale.”

The hobbit nodded, “What about you? You are in no condition to fight! You’ll get hurt!”

Sara just smiled knowingly, “Do not doubt my intelligence dear Mr. Baggins. Just pray that things don’t go wrong.”

“Like what?”

“Like a certain dwarf prince having a not so friendly reunion with a particularly not friendly white giant orc creature.”

[choupichoups]

Press F (Instagram/College AU) Ch.9

Lucas swears he’s the absolute master of undetected stalking. Or: Eliott is instagram famous and Lucas is the disaster gay who accidentally likes his post.

He’s in the library, trying to study for his upcoming chemistry exam– trying being the keyword over here because his needy as hell boyfriend seems physically unable to detach himself from Lucas.

Boyfriend. Boyfriend. He still can’t believe he’s free to use that word with Eliott. 

daph.pink You’re really not saying anything about Eliott?? 

lucallemant It’s all over my instagram 

martineau.brie He lives!!

em.brgs You didn’t even warn us You were all hurr durr we just follow each other And next thing we know you’re canoodling with the guy

daph.pink Is it official??

em.brgs They’ve literally been cheese posting on insta 

daph.pink So? It was their hands, no faces 

goodgalimane I think the comments give it away And check Lucas’ story just now 

daph.pink Omg  I missed that

lucallemant  Yeah we’re together 

martineau.brie LOL DETAILS

goodgalimane NO details 

lucallemant  Lol no details 

manon.demissy I’m so!! happy for you Lucas!!!

lucallemant :)

“I thought you were studying?” Eliott nuzzles sleepily into his shoulder, propping his chin up to deign Lucas with a disappointed pout. 

Lucas doesn’t look over just to spite him. “I thought you were sleeping?” 

“I can’t fucking sleep when—” He digs inside his jeans pocket for his phone, struggling with the task as Lucas watches on, amused. “When this thing keeps going off.” As if on cue, his phone pings with another notification and Eliott opens it up with an exasperated sigh. “Oh shit.”

“Oh shit what?” 

“We need to leave.” 

“Why? No!” Lucas finds himself gathering his notes and textbooks together despite his own words. “What’s wrong?”

“They’re coming.”

“Who?” 

“Those little demons—” Before Eliott can finish, a chorus of footsteps stumbles into their area. They’re in a corner at the back of the library, where Lucas usually spends his time whenever he needs to hide and focus on his studies. He’s perfected the timing to the tee, knowing when exactly to arrive so that he’d have the place all to himself.

So much for that today, though. 

“Lucas!” Abe greets him like a long lost friend, which makes Lucas laugh. He can pick him out from the group as they’ve seen each other once before when Lucas had been over at Imane’s. “Good to see you again.” 

“Hey,” Lucas says, nodding and accepting the offered hands for a high five. The other boys thankfully have their faces on their Instagram profiles so he has a vague idea of who’s who already even before Eliott begrudgingly stands up to introduce everyone. 

“So you all know Lucas,” Eliott starts, holding his hand out to pull Lucas up from the couch as well. “Lucas, these are my idiot friends, I think they’ve been bothering you for the past few days and I’m very sorry about that.” 

“We’re not bothering him.”

“We’re making friends.” 

There’s a thump and a crash and then Idris’ head pops in from between the shelves. “There you all are! I was lost.” Idris carefully jogs up to them, trying to make as little noise as possible. “Hey, Lucas,” he greets with excitement, reaching over to pull him into a hug that lasts all of two seconds before Eliott’s arm slips in between. His hand pushes Idris away by the face. “Ow, rude!” Idris yelps and the rest of the guys snicker, making disapproving tutting noises while Eliott pulls Lucas to himself. 

Lucas snorts, kissing the frown off of Eliott’s face. 

“Okay, stop. We get it, you’re in love.” He thinks that’s Adam who’s speaking. 

“No, deal with it. You all invited yourselves here.” Eliott waves a dismissive hand, sticking his tongue out like an irate child. 

Emir rolls his eyes, shushing Omar when he starts to protest. “We wouldn’t be here if you just answered your fucking phone.” 

“Oh yeah!” Abe claps his hands together and the guys shush him all at once, frantically pointing to where the librarian is looking increasingly irked. “Sorry, okay, so. This guy in my class is throwing a party this Friday and he’s asking if you’re coming?” 

Eliott’s eyes narrow. “Are you all going?” 

“Yeah, but he’s asking about you cause, you know, it’s gonna be real big if you’re there.” Omar laughs, tapping at something on his phone. “See? He’s already tagging some of the popular students in it. I still don’t know if it’s a brave or a dumb move.” 

“More like a shameless move,” Emir mumbles from the side. 

Lucas blinks at the blatant exploiting of Eliott’s fame. He looks up at Eliott to watch his expression but his boyfriend doesn’t seem to have a problem with it. There’s an amused smile playing at his lips and he stares down at Lucas, quirking a brow as if asking what he thinks about it.

Belatedly, he realizes that Eliott’s only going if Lucas himself is going. “Uh.” This is too much power for his irresponsible hands.

“Lucas, say yes, the more people come, the more free booze will appear,” Idris whispers jokingly, flinching when Emir smacks him upside the head. 

“I… yeah? Okay. Can I bring some people?” 

“Hell yeah, bring everyone you know. Okay, cool. I’ll let little Tommy over here know that he’s got Eliott Demaury in attendance.”

Lucas’ phone vibrates with a text message, stealing his attention away from the rest of the conversation.

Marie Hi, Lucas. I have an emergency back home so I’ll be out of the country for a couple of weeks. I was wondering if you’d be able to look after Champ again while I’m gone? 

Lucas Hey Marie, yeah for sure! I wouldn’t mind

Marie Thank you so much!

Lucas When are you leaving?

Marie In two days 

Lucas  Did you want me to pick her up now so you don’t have to worry about anything tomorrow? 

Marie That would be so helpful  Thank you so much, my dear 

Lucas I’ll be there in a few!!

When he tunes back in, the guys are already starting to file out, arguing about something that Lucas has completely missed. 

“Anyway, Eliott, see you in class at some point. Lucas, see you on Friday.” Idris shoots them some finger guns, walking backwards as they all try to squeeze out of the area at once. 

Lucas has no idea how the librarian's managed to resist kicking them all out. 

“Do you remember Champagne?” He flicks through the bus schedule on his phone, trying to see how long it would take for him to get to Marie’s house from here. He’s not used to busing directly to her place, they usually meet up at the clinic with his mother. 

“The dog you take on dates?” 

He laughs, recalling the conversation they had after posting that particular photo. “Yeah, her owner’s going away for a bit so she’s gonna be staying with me. I have to go pick her up. Wanna come?”

Eliott’s positively glowing at him and Lucas has to blink back from the blinding sunshine in his smile. “Yeah, of course.” Lucas doesn’t know why Eliott looks like he’s just been offered a white picket fence and three Labrador puppies but he’s not about to set out and dampen that lovely grin. 

“Okay, let me study a bit more and then we go.”

“Sure.”

Marie and Champagne are waiting by the front porch when the two of them arrive and Eliott falls to his knees, making embarrassing inhuman noises as Champagne toddles over in all her fluffy little glory. 

“Oh my god!” Eliott hisses, hands held out at the ready so that Champ can run straight into his arms. “Oh my god, Lucas! She’s so cute.”

“That she is.” He crouches down to rub a thumb over Champ’s face, laughing when an annoyed paw pushes his finger away. “Hey, Marie.” 

“Hi, Lucas.” Her eyes flick over to Eliott, a knowing smile plastered on her red stained lips. Lucas rolls her eyes at her and she lets out an uncharacteristic chortle-- Marie’s truly feeling more and more like that one laid back aunt who indulges you in anything and everything than simply being his mama’s nurse.

“Hello!” Eliott jumps up, Champ held securely in his arms. She seems to be enjoying her current perch and Lucas doesn’t blame her; Eliott gives the warmest, softest cuddles. “I’m Eliott.” 

“Nice to meet you, Eliott.” Marie continues to give Lucas that look and he finally gives in, rubbing a hand over his face, trying for a nonchalant expression that he’s sure misses the mark completely. 

“He’s my boyfriend.” 

Lucas hadn't thought it possible but Eliott seems to perk up even more. 

"It’s nice to meet you too,” Eliott says, gracing Marie with a smile before turning to gaze down at Lucas.

“Um,” Lucas fumbles for words, still getting used to Eliott’s constant undivided attention towards him. “So we’ll just grab her stuff and get out of your way?” 

Marie giggles, actually giggles at him. “Here you go, dear.” She hands over a grocery bag packed with supplies to Lucas and Champ’s leash to Eliott. “You still remember her schedule?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Alright, I’m not sure exactly when I’ll be back but it shouldn’t go over a month.” Marie glances at her wristwatch and sighs, clasping her hands together as she glances at both of them. “Well it was nice seeing you boys. I have to clean up around the house some more.” Leaning over, she gives Lucas a small peck on the cheek and Eliott graciously ducks down when she goes to do the same to him. 

Champ’s squirming in Eliott’s arms by now so Lucas pulls her to the ground to clip the leash to her collar. “I’ll see you when you get back then,” Lucas says, straightening up. Eliott grabs the grocery bag Lucas has placed on the ground. 

“Thank you again, Lucas.” Marie walks them to the gate, waving goodbye as they leave. That weird expression is still on her face and god damn it, when will people stop teasing him already. 

“Anytime!” Lucas shouts over his shoulder, grinning as Champ starts running with all the might in her tiny, stubby legs. 

Lucas goes straight to the cafe after classes on Friday, having forgotten his chemistry textbook there during his last shift. Good thing he’d already studied well before the exam or he would have sent himself straight into a panic attack on Thursday. 

They’re trying to convince Basile out of wearing his lucky sweater vest on the group chat when a rapid succession of messages has his mood doused in cold water, a heavy load of unease dropping right in the middle of his stomach.

Mama I had a dream I was burning  It was terrifying  Hell must feel something like this 

Lucas Are you okay, mama? Do you want me there?

Mama It’s okay, my dear son  I will go to confession tomorrow  He will forgive all I’ve done wrong Just like he’s always done

Lucas Okay, take care tomorrow I love you 

His mama hasn’t sent a text like that in a while. It’s been really good with her ever since Lucas has switched her over to another clinic near campus. Marie has been an angel for them— her constant presence and genuine friendship has helped his mama through a lot. 

But it’s not the first time Marie has been away, it’s not like his mama can’t cope without her— there are other capable nurses in the clinic. Something must have happened.

He enters the cafe with his head down, staring at the messages as if that would help decipher the story behind them. Lucas knows his mother through and through. It’s a comfort for her to be able to send him messages when she’s having a rough time, but she likes to cover the truth in her words behind bible verses and senseless religion talk. 

There’s probably enough time for him to sneak a visit before going in for work tomorrow. He just has to make sure she’s doing fine with his own eyes. 

“Hey, Lucas.” Erin grins from the counter, seeming all too chipper for someone who’s working the late shift on a Friday night. “I’ve got your textbook right here.”

“Thanks.” Lucas reaches over the counter for it but pauses when he sees the small bouquet of flowers placed atop. “Uh, whose are those?” 

“Yours!” She beams, all giddy as she watches him run careful fingers over the soft petals. “Noel said some guy dropped it off for you earlier but, obviously you weren’t here, so they just left it with your stuff.” 

He’s almost a hundred percent sure it’s not Eliott. His guy knows that Lucas doesn’t work on Fridays so it wouldn’t make any sense for him to do this. Besides, they’re literally meeting up in an hour to go to the party together. It just doesn’t add up.

“Did he say what the guy looked like?” Lucas’s confused. He can’t think of anyone who would do this— sure he gets hit on at work sometimes but they’re mostly girls and never has it occurred to him that anyone would actually act on it. 

Erin shrugs. “He was in a rush when I got here so I didn’t get details.”

lucallemant Did you leave flowers at work for me?

srodulv No? You don’t even work today 

lucallemant Ok thought so 

srodulv Someone’s leaving you flowers?

lucallemant No lol I think it’s just a mistake

“Keep it in the back room, we need some life over there anyway.” Lucas stuffs the textbook in his bag and heads back towards the door.

“You don’t want them?” She looks thoroughly confused at the prospect of someone rejecting a bunch of flowers from a stranger. Her and Eliott would probably be great friends, bonding over romance and all. 

“No, they’re not from my boyfriend.” He waves her goodbye and jogs back home, equal parts excited and dreading what Champagne has been up to while he and Yann have been away on campus. The little rascal has a penchant for chewing up shoelaces when boredom gets a hold of her. He’s pretty sure they’ve hidden everything of import behind drawers and closets, though, so Champagne shouldn’t wreck too much havoc by herself. 

“I’m home!” He declares grandly, entering the door only to find Champagne with one corner of a couch cushion in her mouth. “You absolute brat.” She greets him back with a high pitched bark, tail beginning to wag as he makes his way over. “I missed you so much,” he says with a huff, taking her into his arms as he flops over on the couch, in need of some good cuddles. 

It feels like they’ve just settled in for a well deserved nap when a series of knocks interrupts the mindless monologue he’s mumbling into Champ’s fur. She must be so sick of him already. 

With a pained groan, he drags himself off the couch and opens the door to his daily reminder that Eliott Demaury is legions out of his league. 

“What the fuck,” he says, eyes dragging up and down in a quick motion. And then, because he can’t resist, “Seriously? It’s like you’re photoshopped.”

Eliott’s cackling up at the ceiling by the time Lucas’ eyes settle back on his face. But in all seriousness, he should probably drag his boyfriend inside before anyone catches Eliott hanging around Lucas and his ratty sweatpants. 

“If you wanted to do the Dirty Dancing lift, you could’ve just asked me, you know.”

It takes a moment for Lucas’ brain to catch up with the joke but then he scoffs, smacking Eliott’s hands away from him. “Don’t touch me, one of us will die if we attempt that.” 

Eliott looks like he’s got words about that but Champ takes the opportunity to remind them of her existence and Eliott gets effectively distracted. “My princess!” Eliott’s barely thrown his jacket over the nearest table before Champ’s already wiggling in his arms, yipping happily at the attention. “Yes, yes, I’ve missed you too, yes I did.” 

Lucas rolls his eyes at them as if he hasn’t been doing the exact same thing prior to Eliott’s arrival. He leaves the door unlocked for when Yann and the others arrive, throwing himself back into the cushions in an accurate imitation of a dolphin. 

“You’re not gonna get dressed?” Eliott asks, sitting on the armchair while Champ nibbles on his sleeves. 

“I don’t wanna go anymore,” Lucas warbles back at him. “I’m gonna look like a potato beside you.” 

The cushion next to him dips and he can feel Champ’s cold little nose sniffing around his head. Eliott’s hand follows right after, carding through his hair. “Don’t say that, you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

“You need to check your eyesight.”

Eliott laughs, “The doctor says I have 20/20 vision.”

“Well they’re lying.” 

“And why would they lie?” He feels insistent hands trying to turn him over but Lucas resists as much as he can, comfortable with his face mushed up against the pillows. 

“Because you’re actually about to turn blind but they’re letting you think that you can still see things normally.” 

Eliott’s persistence wins over Lucas’ laziness and he turns over, smiling when Eliott leans down to kiss him. “Is that so?”

“Yeah.” 

“Then I’ll have no problem with you being the last thing I see.”

“Ah.” Lucas tilts his head over the arm of the couch, looking at the door upside down when he hears the knob rattle. “That was too cheesy.” He’s pretty sure he’s not the only one hearing the faint voices coming from outside.

“Was it?” Eliott lets him up, laughing as he grabs Champ back for another round of cuddles while Basile, Arthur, and Yann sort themselves out at the door.

There’s a disgruntled bunch of people around the porch when they arrive at the party but the two bouncers stationed at the door take one look at Eliott and immediately usher them inside.

Lucas presses his lips together, looking up at Eliott and trying not to laugh. Whoever’s hosting this party must have made sure that Eliott Demaury must not be turned away at any cost. Eliott catches his expression and rolls his eyes, curling an arm over his shoulder as they navigate through the crowd. 

They get stopped more times that Lucas can count-- all fleeting chitchats that don’t last long enough for him to even remember the other person’s face. 

It’s not necessary anyway since every single one who approaches has their attention all on Eliott. Lucas gets a few curious glances but if these people follow Eliott on Instagram, they probably already know who Lucas is without question. It feels a bit weird, he’s not going to lie, but it’s a factor that comes with being in a relationship with Eliott so he’ll deal with it just fine.

“Eliott! Lucas!” He hears someone call out and they all turn to see Adam waving his arms wildly about. Imane and the girls are already at the table with them. 

When Idris comes by with a tray of drinks, puts a strangely sweet smelling cup of something in front of Lucas and a can of soda in front of Eliott, he turns to his boyfriend with a slightly surprised, “You don’t drink?”

Eliott shrugs. “I prefer not to.” He takes a sip of his soda, eyes sliding down towards Lucas. “I don’t really smoke either. I’m boring like that.” 

Lucas smiles, shaking his head. “Doesn’t make you boring.” He drags a hand up the back of Eliott’s head and pulls him down for a kiss. Eliott presses him harder into the back of the couch, almost spilling their drinks when his hand settles over the table for leverage. 

He stops paying attention from there.

The music’s loud all around them despite their best efforts to seclude themselves into a corner. Lucas’ heart pounds along with the bass, doesn’t need alcohol in his system for his head to cloud in haze. Eliott’s all he can see, hovering over him like this, and he’s intoxicated before Eliott even dares to slip searching fingers up the back of his shirt. 

Lucas buries his hands in Eliott’s hair, feeling like he’s going to melt away in the heat if he doesn’t hold on.

There’s a screech from beside him and Lucas startles, unwillingly distancing himself from Eliott to look around their friends and--

And what the fuck, how long have he and Eliott been zoned out for this to happen? 

Yann’s nearly passed out on one side while Arthur’s trying to crawl closer to him, one hand holding a tiny glass of neon pink liquid. Emma has two tiny glasses of vivid colours, holding them up over her head with a determined war cry. Abe and Idris are giggling it up as they mix colours into shot glasses like the filthy enablers that they are.

So they’ve moved on to shots then. That didn’t take long at all.  

“I think we should leave,” Eliott whispers into his ear and Lucas feels goosebumps rising on his arms.

“We just got here and this is gonna be funny to watch.” Lucas grins up at Eliott but his boyfriend doesn’t return the smile. In fact, the intensity in Eliott’s gaze makes Lucas swallow, breath hitching under its spell. 

“Idris,” Eliott says, holding out a hand without moving his eyes away from Lucas’. “Give me one.” 

“I thought you can’t drink,” Lucas mutters softly. Nothing’s even happening yet and he’s already out of breath, for the love of god he needs to get a hold of himself.

“I said I don’t, not that I can’t.” Eliott tilts his head, brushing the tips of their noses together. “You trust me?”

Lucas nods with a minute shake of his head, like his body wants to stop him even when his brain screams out a resounding yes.

Eliott smiles, placing a slice of lime in between Lucas’ lips and holy shit. No. Fuck, no. He’s not ready.

Or maybe he is. He’s ready?

Either way, he bites into it lightly, letting the sour taste of the fruit distract him from the wetness of Eliott’s tongue against his neck. He feels Eliott’s warm breath ghost over the damp spot and Lucas shudders despite his best efforts to keep his shit together. 

Lucas thinks it ends there-- that Eliott would grab the salt, take his shot, and finish Lucas up with a lime flavoured kiss on the lips. 

But Eliott forgoes all of that, blankets himself heavier over Lucas, and bites at his neck so hard that Lucas gasps audibly, letting out a startled little sound that Eliott couldn't have possibly missed. Eliott keeps him in place with a soothing caress to his hair and Lucas buries his face in Eliott’s shoulder, breathing like he’s just ran an entire marathon. 

“You dropped the lime, baby,” Eliott whispers against his jaw, calm as can be. 

Lucas takes a deep inhale. “You fucking cheated.”

Eliott chuckles, placing lingering kisses against the underside of Lucas’ ear. “You think there are rules here?”

“Yeah.” Lucas straightens up, snatching the shot glass from Eliott’s loose hold and downing it himself. He’s not sure what Abe and Idris put in those glasses but he doesn’t care, welcomes the burn in his throat and the bitterness that stays on the surface of this tongue. “Yeah, there are fucking rules over here.” He wonders what Eliott tastes when Lucas climbs over his lap and tilts his boyfriend’s chin up to press their mouths together. 

Eliott groans, grabbing the sides of Lucas’ thighs to drag him closer, but Lucas pushes against it, knowing that they’re one wrong touch away from getting out of hand. 

“We’re leaving,” he murmurs into the space between their lips, and Eliott doesn’t need to be told twice. 

The walk home is the most unbearable thing Lucas has ever experienced in his young life. For every brush of his knuckles against the back of Eliott’s hand, accidental or otherwise, an electric current shoots through him, runs along his veins, sets him alight from the inside. For every charged glance, he has to remind himself that yes, public indecency is still a thing and no, they can’t settle in a darkened alleyway and make out for just a little bit. Pretty sure that’s how people fucking die. 

So when they finally get inside the building and he pulls Eliott so hard towards him that they stagger into the door with a loud bang, Lucas doesn’t even feel one bit apologetic for it. Eliott keeps his chuckles low, mindful of the hour unlike a certain someone. 

“Where are your keys?” 

“Huh?” He’s too busy trying to lean up for a kiss damn it. 

“Your keys, baby.” Eliott cups his face with both hands, bending down to catch Lucas’ eyes. “Hey, Lucas, are you okay?” 

Lucas blinks back at him, a slight frown visible from the narrowing of his brows. “Are you asking if I’m drunk?”

Eliott shrugs, thumbs running so softly over his cheeks that Lucas can’t muster the strength to be annoyed for too long. “Are you?”

“I had one shot, Eliott, I’m fine.” He turns around and unlocks the door, barely having enough time to see Champ’s curious little ears perk up at their arrival before Eliott’s pushing him back into the door, one arm wound securely around Lucas’ waist while his free hand tangles itself inside Lucas’ hair, placed carefully behind the back of his head to gentle its impact against the door. Trust Eliott to think of that shit even in the heat of the moment. 

“If you say so,” Eliott says, running a finger over Lucas’ clothed hip bone.

“I say so,” Lucas mutters back before surging up on his toes for another kiss, pulling Eliott down so close as if to steal the very breath from his lungs.

The two boys fumble to remove their jackets, leaving the discarded clothing on the ground in favour of stumbling messily into the living room. Lucas trips over trying to remove his own shoes at one point and Eliott catches him, offended at the notion of Lucas falling over and unwittingly separating their mouths. 

They reach the hallway to the bedrooms and Eliott tugs Lucas’ legs upwards, hands roving from the sides of his face down to the back of his thighs to which Lucas quickly obliges, letting their bodies slam against one of the closed doors and fuck yes but they also probably need to calm down a little. Just until they get inside his bedroom at least. 

“Shit,” Lucas gasps up to the ceiling, head tilted back to give Eliott more room when his boyfriend starts lining biting kisses on the side of his neck. There’s a door knob digging into Lucas’ back but he can’t bring himself to care— not when Eliott licks over the mark he’d made at the party earlier, not when he presses their lower bodies harder, and Lucas can’t do anything but squeeze Eliott’s shoulder a little closer, wrap the legs around Eliott’s waist a little tighter. “Wait, Eliott, wait.” Shaky fingers pull messily at Eliott’s hair and his boyfriend lets up with a final peck on the lips. Lucas sets his feet back down on the floor and gets his wits about him for thirty blessed seconds, enough to realize that his bedroom is actually the one on the opposing side. 

They giggle like scheming two year olds as they make their way inside the correct room, trading soft kisses that contradict everything his hormone-addled brain is screaming at him at the moment. But Eliott’s smile is wide and sweet, eyes glistening with something that makes Lucas’ heart flutter, makes him want to stay in this bubble forever if only to keep Eliott looking this way— beautiful and content like the entire universe is in the palm of their hands. 

Lucas scratches softly at the back of Eliott’s head and the latter groans, louder when Lucas begins to drag his fingernails down with more intent, reminding Eliott of the matter at hand. He gets rid of the minuscule space between them, head tilted up towards his boyfriend’s lowered lips. Lucas doesn’t quite reach him with his feet flat on the ground like this but Eliott is putty in his hands as Lucas pulls down, lower, until he’s able to touch a teasing tongue between the seams of Eliott’s lips. 

“Fuck,” Eliott curses, eyes darkened the next time they open. Lucas laughs, barely stopping even when Eliott grips him tight and nips at his lips in retaliation. 

“Eliott,” he says, cupping Eliott’s face gently in between his hands. He lets their foreheads touch for a few heart thudding seconds before Lucas pulls away, walking backwards towards the bed. “Lock the door.” 

Eliott stands there, ruffled and kiss bruised and grinning. Lucas turns around, removing both his hoodie and the shirt underneath when he hears Eliott finally moving. The sound of the lock clicking doesn’t bring the slightest sliver of trepidation, he doesn’t have to swallow down a lump in his throat, his heart doesn’t pound with nerves stemming from out of nowhere. 

And as Eliott returns to his arms, taking his own shirt off along the way, Lucas doesn’t have a single doubt in his mind that he’ll be okay. Eliott’s body above him isn’t an intimidating presence— it’s warm, gentle, safe. 

With Eliott, he’ll be okay. 

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

[you gotta be strong, ace]

Day 19: Helping Hand #twdgdrabblechallenge

Note: Omar backstory? Omar backstory. 

AO3

---

The number one rule in making an orange chocolate ganache is to mix in the zest straight from the orange itself rather than orange extract. 

Omar doesn’t know why exactly- the orange extract smells delicious to him, but Marcus says that shaving the outer part of the fruit makes the chocolate taste ten times better than adding a tablespoon of the extract. Omar would’ve thought it the other way around given that the aftertaste of bitter orange peel is still lingering on his curious tongue after chewing a slice. 

Marcus had tried to stop him, but he had also laughed at the face me made before gagging and spitting it in the sink.

“Told’ja it’s nasty,” Marcus chuckles, his dark eyes crinkling with delight at Omar’s childish pout and crossed arms. “Here, try this. Should make the taste go away.” 

Omar perks up at the sight of glossy chocolate dripping down the spoon, snatching and shoving the whole thing in his mouth. It’s heavenly, smooth and rich and sweet but not too much, and the orange flavor seals the deal- this is the best thing Omar as ever eaten in his entire life. 

“Well, what’s the verdict, Ace?” Marcus wipes his hands along his apron, eagerly awaiting Omar’s all so important opinion on the chocolate even though he already knows it’s perfect. “Good enough for the bride and groom?”

“Uh-huh!” Omar nods quickly, licking the spoon clean. Marcus’ grin grows as he holds up his hand. 

“Alright! We did it!” 

The two of them high-five before Omar jumps back up in his chair to watch Marcus work. Their kitchen’s fairly big, but with the freshly frozen cake resting on the table and other baking necessities laying around them, there aren’t many places Omar can go to make sure he’s right there when Marcus needs him. 

The mouth-watering scent of orange, vanilla, and chocolate have flooded the kitchen, leaking out through the entire house. Omar knew the moment he woke up with morning that Marcus was baking the cake for the wedding. Still in his pajamas, hair an absolute mess and teeth left unbrushed, Omar ran through the house and burst into the kitchen to find the cake in the oven and Marcus sitting at the table molding flowers out of chocolate. 

Mom and Dad hadn’t told him that Marcus would be home last night, and he completely forgot about Sasha and Max’s wedding today, so to wake up to his brother like that was the same as waking up on Christmas and getting to meet Santa. Omar nearly knocked over the table when he leaped into Marcus’ strong, safe arms.

He could’ve cried, as embarrassing as it is, but it’s been a whole week since they saw each other last! A week!  

“Ya never told me how schools going,” Marcus says, setting the bowl aside. “Miss Johns treating you good?”

“Yeah, she’s nice,” Omar nods. “She gives out too much homework, but she’s nice.”

“Eh, they always do,” Marcus laughs. “But it’s okay because you’re smart and you blaze right through it, don’t’cha?”

A swell of pride warms his chest at the compliment, replying, “Yeah, it’s easy! We’re doing division in math and I’m a helper!”

“A helper!”

“Yeah, yeah, I go around- I go around and help the other kids because they don’t get it and I do and I help them with- I help them with their problems because they get harder as we go and Miss Johns said I got one-hundred percent on the last test so I can be a helper!”

“Atta boy, Ace!” Marcus high-fives him again, this time also handing him another spoonful of ganache, which Omar happily accepts. “See? I told’ja you could do it! Division ain’t got nothing on you.”

He’s right, and Omar knows it. He knew it when the two of them sat down together last week for a few hours doing his homework. 

He’d struggled with it in class, getting nearly every answer wrong until Marcus showed him a different way of doing it. He walked through it with him until Omar could finally do it himself. He brought his homework the next morning and earned himself a piece of taffy for showing his work and getting everything correct. 

“Did’ja tell Ma and Dad?” 

“Yeah,” Omar shrugs. “They put my test on the fridge.”

Marcus leans back, searching the front of the fridge for the test in question, but only finds a newspaper clipping of Dad holding up a fat fish with the headline LARGEST CATCH OF THE SEASON. 

Marcus scoffs. 

“You kept it, right?”

“It’s in my folder.”

“Good, I wanna see it when we’re done here.” 

“Okay!” Omar grins. 

Marcus holds up the bowl of ganache, motioning towards the top pantry. 

“It’s ready to pour. Grab the racks for me?” 

He’s on it, off his chair and grabbing the correct racks for them to set each layer of the cake on. There’s a pan beneath them to catch the drippings of the chocolate for Omar to eat when they’re done. 

Watching Marcus pour the chocolate over the cakes is the most satisfying thing in the world. Omar doesn’t know how he gets it so shiny and perfect enough that he can see his own reflection in it, but he does and that’s proof enough that Marcus is nothing but the best. 

The best baker, the best chef, the best artist, and the best brother in the world.

Marcus ruffles his hair before pulling Omar into a side hug, exclaiming, “Isn’t that beautiful!”

“I can’t wait to eat it!”

“You’re coming with me?”

“Ma said I could,” Omar nods. “Is that okay?”

“Of course, Ace. You’re always welcome to tag along. Just make sure you congratulate Sasha and Max before trying to devour the whole cake, m’kay? And you gotta wear a tie.”

Omar frowns, whining, “A tie?”

“Yes, you can’t go to a wedding without a tie.”  

That’s a dumb rule, he decides but agrees nonetheless. 

Once the ganache has set, Omar helps place them in the fridge to cool for a couple of hours before they leave. Once they’re finished safely transferring the cakes, Marcus rests a hand on his shoulder and guides him back to the table. 

“Hey, sit down a minute,” he says. “I made’ja some fresh cookies this morning.”

“Really? You did?” Omar gasps at the sight of a dozen little peanut butter chocolate chip cookies, all placed on a paper plate wrapped in clear plastic. Marcus had them hidden in the cupboards, knowing Omar would’ve swallowed them down the moment he caught a glance of them. 

They’re a famous recipe, one that Marcus made up all by himself with a little help from Omar, of course. It was his idea to mix in both regular and white chocolate chips, after all. 

Tearing the plastic off, Marcus hands him a stack of the cookies, which begin popping into his mouth. 

“Slow down,” Marcus laughs. “You can’t even taste ‘em when you eat that fast.”

A muffled “Yes I can!” comes out of Omar as he stuffs another cookie in his mouth. 

Marcus sits with him at the table, snatching a cookie for himself as Omar allows himself to properly swallow, breathing out with such genuine love, “Thanks, Marcus. You’re the best.” 

That makes Marcus grin, eyes softening fondly.

“Don’t know about that. I’m not the Ace here.”

Omar beams, munching on another cookie to hide his smile. 

Silence comes between them as Marcus shifts, breaking one of the cookies in half without eating either piece. 

“Hey, Omar,” he says. “There’s something I wanna talk to you about.” 

Finishing the last cookie, Omar peers curiously at him, taking note of Marcus’ tapping fingers, a habit he only does when he’s anxious. 

“You think these cookies are good?” 

Omar’s taken back by the question, blinking up at him. 

“Of course! They’re my favorite!”

“You think they’re good enough to sell?”

“Yes! You could make, like, a billion dollars selling your cookies.”

That sets Marcus off, laughter erupting deep in his chest as he throws his head back. 

“Wow! That good, huh?” 

“Yes!” Omar laughs with him. 

“I’ll have to keep that in mind,” Marcus chuckles, clearing his throat and smiling, “because I got a job.”

“You did?”

Joy fills Omar’s stomach. For months, Marcus has looked for a job at every local bakery to no avail. He even went out of town, willing to travel if the pay was good enough.

“I did,” Marcus nods. “I finally did, and it’s perfect. They love my recipes, they think me and Sam are a great team and a great pair of workers, and they pay good. Maybe not a billion dollars good, but still good.” 

“Where is it? Is it that cookie shop over by the fishing place Dad goes to?”

Marcus glances down at the table, his fingers resuming their tapping. “Uh, no, it’s not that place. It’s... well, it’s a little far away.” 

“How far?”

“Ireland.”

An anchor drops in Omar’s stomach.

“...What?”

“Sam and I are going to Ireland to work. We’ll be gone for a few months at a time, with breaks to come fly home, though we’re not entirely sure about the holidays, uhm...”

Omar doesn’t say anything. 

“I already told Ma and Dad. They’re good with it, but at this point, they’re happy with anything that’ll get me out of this house,” Marcus tries to laugh. “But, uh, I promised I’d write at least once a week, and that goes double for you, Ace.”

The nickname that usually brought him such joy suddenly brings nothing but wet warmth to his eyes. 

He’s leaving. 

“It’s gonna be... difficult, at first-”

He’s leaving.

 “-and a little scary, but this is such a big opportunity for us.”

He’s leaving forever.

“They could’ve picked anyone to bring there and they chose us.”

He’s leaving me forever.

“What do you-”

Marcus stops.

The table is wet with the drips of Omar’s tears falling over his cheeks and down his chin. He rubs his eyes on his sleeve, his chin violently quivering. 

“Omar...” 

“You’re leaving?” Omar gasps out, attempt to stop the shakiness threatening to consume him. “You’re leaving me?”

“I don’t want to-”

“Then don’t! You don’t gotta go! Tell them no!”

“Omar, I can’t turn this down.”

“Why?”

“C’mon, come here.”

Omar shoves him away, biting his lip as he cries, eyes burning and head and heart pounding painfully. The pushing barely does anything. Marcus is much bigger than he is and is able to pull him into a comforting hug, in which Omar finally breaks down, sobbing into Marcus’ sweater. 

“I know, I know...” he coos, pressing a hand against the back of Omar’s head. “I’m so sorry, Omar, if I could, I’d take you with me and we could take over the whole place together but I can’t, just like how I can’t turn this down.” 

Omar sobs harder.

“I’m sorry,” Marcus repeats, “but, listen. Listen, Ace, I’m gonna write to you twice a week, and I’ll send you packages full of peanut butter cookies and fudge and candy and anything else I find while I’m there. I’ll take lots of pictures and send ‘em to you.” 

“Please,” Omar pleads, pulling back to stare teary-eyed at his brother. “Please don’t go.”

“Omar,” Marcus’ voice is stern, but kind, “you are the strongest, smartest, and coolest boy in the whole universe. I won’t lie to you. This is gonna suck at first, but I’m not gonna be there forever. I’ll be there a year, two at the most.”

“Two years!?”

“At most,” Marcus nods. “Then, I’ll come back here and open up my own shop, and I’m gonna need your help to do that, but you gotta be strong until then. Ma’s gonna need you, Dad, too.”

“No, they’re not, they’re...”

“I know,” Marcus sighs. “I know, but it won’t be that bad. I promise that I’ll talk to you while I’m there, and I hope that you’ll talk back.” 

“I don’t know how to write a letter...”

“Then, I better show you after the wedding, huh?” 

Omar wipes his nose on his sleeve, sniffling, “I guess... but Dad said sending to stuff to places like that is a lot of money.”

“That doesn’t matter, the money doesn’t matter, Omar.”

“And you promise to send stuff every week?”

“I will, even if it costs a million dollars.”

“You don’t got a million dollars.”

“Well, then I’ll work extra hard and make a million dollars so that I can send you something every single week,” Marcus chuckles, ruffling Omar’s hair. “But, you gotta be strong, Ace, okay?” 

As Omar looks to his brother- the one person in the universe who Omar could confidently call his hero- and his kind face, he feels like crying again knowing that soon, he'll be far away... unreachable when things turn sour. 

He’s won’t be okay, that’s the truth. Omar will be anything but okay, but Marcus believes in him and he’s right, he needs to be strong. Omar can’t let him down.

“Okay... I’ll try.” 

“That’s all I ask,” Marcus pulls him in for a hug. “I’m gonna set up an email, too, so if you ever need me for anything that can’t wait in a letter, you can find me that way."

“Okay.”

"I'm proud of you, Ace,” Marcus grins. “Now, go get your math folder. I wanna see that A-plus.” 

[anewdirection-ffr]

How would you summarize the fashion sense of the new characters? What kind of demeanor do they give off?

Omar - Omar likes to look good and can be slightly vain. He likes slim and moderately tight clothing and he likes patterns. He likes bomber jackets and button down shirts with patterns on them, as long as they aren't too gaudy. He likes button down shirts in general, but also owns some golf shirts. He likes moderately tight dark jeans and chinos. He has a thing for nice watches, sneakers and dress shoes. When he dresses more casually he does wear hoodies, t shirts and joggers. He likes jeans jackets and leather jackets. In the winter he really likes layering, with hoodies under jackets. He always wears a watch, and sometimes wears a brown leather bracelet around his other wrist.

Aminah - Aminah does dress modestly, sticking to looser fitting clothing and she does wear the hijab. Sometimes she’ll wear skinny jeans, but she’ll wear longer tops or sweaters over them so she isn’t very exposed. She likes lighter colors, and mostly warm tones. Minah loves playing around with different textures and loves a good abstract pattern. She usually looks really comfortable, but fashionable. She is all about a good cashmere sweater with loose jeans. While she usually wears pants or jeans, she will wear long slip dresses with long-sleeved shirts under. She loves embroidery. She is really into layering, partly because she gets cold really easily.

Liliana - When not in her Cheerios uniform, she loves to dress up feminine and put a lot of thought into her outfits; she's very into fashion. She likes wearing dresses whenever she can, short skirts, short shorts, and heeled shoes. In cooler weather, she likes to wear ripped jeans, sweaters, scarves, coats, denim jackets, and booties. Her favorite colors to wear are pastel and floral. She tries to stay in tune with current fashion trends.

Spencer - Spencer likes simple casual clothes. He often wears a grey dad hat, t-shirts, a pair of blue jeans, and a pair of black and white Vans Sk8-Hi. During colder months, he wears his letterman jacket or fur-lined leather jacket over his usual clothes. Spence is often seen with an Apple watch in his left wrist.

Diana - Diana is very feminine and wears a lot of skirts and dresses and flowy bohemian style clothing. She likes bright colours and floral patterns. She hates super baggy clothing as they make her look smaller than she is in reality. She likes high waisted maxi skirts or short sundresses, but does own a few flowy mini skirts. Sometimes if the weather is not too warm, she'll wear skinny jeans (sometimes high waisted, sometimes not) with a flowy top or a tight top and cardigan. She likes to wear sandals and flats, but when it's cold wears boots often, especially ankle boots. She doesn't like to wear heels but sometimes wears a block heel on her sandals or boots. She only owns one pair of sneakers and uses it for P.E. or when traveling. She is less fashionable in winter and wears jumpers with skinny jeans and boots. She will sometimes try to dress it up by wearing high waisted jeans. She wears hoodies, coats and jeans jackets in winter (she has a denim jacket with a wool collar that she loves) so sometimes she looks like she shouldn't have left the house and other times she looks like she stepped out of Gossip Girl. She loves cardigans and embroided jackets. She would probably like to raid the wardrobes of Jane from Jane the Virgin, Quinn Fabray and Dianna Agron's character in I Am Number Four. She never wears hair accessories like hats, bows or headbands, and isn't big on jewelry. She usually only wears a watch and her simple diamond studs. Her hair usually is usually down or with a loose half ponytail and some strands loose around her face.

[fashionsallyjan]

Popular burger joint closing for upcoming renovations

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