#//listen i spent hours tweaking this let me be proud for a bit

[mechahero]

//i use my time wisely, i swear.

[bokutoslittlebird]

Pink Skirt

Alpha!Matsukawa x Omega!Hanamaki

Warnings: Makki wears a skirt and thigh high stockings, feminization? I think, size kink, breeding kink, biting/nipping, sex toy [dildo], masturbation, pictures (consensual), mirror sex, knotting + creampie, choking (self inflicted), bit of spanking, anal (obviously), collars

This is all Oikawa’s fault, Hanamaki thinks as he hovers his cursor over the ‘Add to cart’ button.

It originally began as a dare, buying the pink skirt littered with white hearts. A few dollars spent on a skirt he’d model for Oikawa who’s halfway across the world, but then it’d go into his closet to never see the light of day again. Then he saw some cute stockings that matched the skirt, recommended to him. It was just for one day, it was just a dare, he told himself as he input his card information, buying two items. He hoped it would be money well spent, but he wouldn’t know until he tried it on.

The box was completely plain, no large label that screamed it was a pretty pink outfit, just a boring old box dropped off. Well, his mail carrier did have to drop off a box with his favorite toy in it, so he shouldn’t be too concerned. Prying open the box, he noticed how nicely made the skirt and stockings were. Thick and resilient material, not thinning to show skin when stretched, and all in his size!

In the mirror, the camera snapped and Hanamaki had to actually sit down and look. Without his face in the picture, you wouldn’t even have thought it to be him prancing around looking absolutely tempting. The soft white sweater he haphazardly put on added to the soft and cutesy touch, almost making him seem innocent. It was technically Matsukawa’s, but it was only ever worn once before both men decided white did not look good on him. Looking up from his phone, he saw how tempting he looked in the mirror. Legs slightly spread to see the panties he’s been wearing all day, skirt barely allowing his eyes access to his steadily growing erection. Squirming, he could feel slick begin from his entrance, a hand hesitantly diving underneath the pink material to find his panties were indeed wet.

Rubbing his finger against his entrance, he bit his lip as he swiftly put it in, finding it easier with the abundance of slick building up. Putting his phone on the bed, he adjusts his position to have easier access to his hole. It’s not as easy as it looks, finding toys to be much better than his fingers when it comes to bringing him pleasure. Shedding the undergarments and grabbing the silicone dildo he often used, he made sure to position himself properly in front of the mirror so he could watch. The best use out of the mirror was it being in front of the bed and allowing him to see whatever sinful deeds he committed upon his mattress.

Inserting the toy was much easier than his fingers, the smooth texture slipping in almost too easy. It was thick and long, yet it remained in second place on the list of things Hanamaki liked up his ass. Settling himself completely on the toy, he had to steady himself as started a gentle pace. He wouldn’t be able to do much unless he got his hole accustomed to the girth of the toy, despite how many times he’s used it. Watching the way he dropped all over the dildo, how each pump of the toy into him seemed to make it wetter and shinier, it had him picking up the pace.

As he bounces on the toy, he bites his lip while listening to the bell on his collar chine, the silver bell also glinting in the light of the room and noticeable in the mirror. Releasing his bottom lip from his teeth, he lets out a wanton moan as he rocks himself on the toy, one hand moving to his cock as his fingers run over the sensitive slit. A brush of his fingers has him arching his back, mewling as he barely keeps his eyes open, trained on the mirror as he goes back to bouncing on the toy. Squelching sounds can be heard in the room, along with his pants and moans of pleasure.

His hand moves from his cock, moving up and gingerly pulling up the skirt to see how his thighs flexed with each movement. It travels farther up, going under his shirt and tweaking at his nipples, earning another mewl as his face darkens and his hips go back to rocking. He’s close, he can feel it, but he needs to final push. Removing his hand from his nipple, not before pinching it once more, he puts his hand around his neck and jingles the bell before tightening his hand. It’s just enough pressure to have his hips stuttering and he moans, cock spilling white against the sheets as he creams on the toy dildo.

As the haze of pleasure fades, Hanamaki slowly removes himself from the toy, soft gasps as it finally gets out, covered in a milky fluid the drips down to the base. It’s the wetness dripping down that gives him an idea. Maneuvering himself in front of the mirror, he puts the tip of the toy in his mouth, on the tip of his tongue, and snaps a picture. With the slick coating his thighs, slick coating the large toy in his hands, it was definitely a spicy picture he’d have to share.. Matsukawa would enjoy such a scene.

He’d be getting off of work anytime now, anyways. It’s only be a matter of time before he busts down the door, riled up and his scent filling each crevice of the room. It’s not like Hanamaki hasn’t done this before. Being at home for long hours of the day... he often played with himself to show his lovely Alpha, especially when said Alpha would be in public.

The door banging against the wall came sooner than expected, Matsukawa’s strong scent overwhelming Hanamaki’s sweet scent. No words were exchanged, each of them knew exactly what would happen. Hanamaki’s phone was left to fall against the carpeted floor, the dildo landing next to it as Matsukawa pushes him onto the mattress, hands moving under the shirt that was much too loose, smelling like evergreen and misty walks in the forest. Those same large hands traveled down, fingers going to find some panties to pry off and finding nothing but hot skin, a blank canvas for love bites and welts. That same hand is quick to smack at the fat of Hanamaki’s ass, earning a hiss from him as Matsukawa trails his lips down his jaw, moving farther until he’s nipping at the column of Hanamaki’s throat.

The heat in the room was almost as hot as the heat covering Hanamaki’s skin, flushed from Matsukawa’s roaming hands and the onslaught of touches he gave to himself. His cock was hard and leaking, aching to be touched. Although it stood hard and proud, it was no match for Matsukawa’s cock, twitching against his thigh. Rubbing it against the slick coated thighs of his mate, Matsukawa let out a low grumble as he pressed his lips to Hanamaki’s ear. “Tell me what you want me to do, sweet Omega,”

“I want your knot-” Hanamaki begins, but he’s quickly cut off by Matsukawa landing a harsh smack against his bottom.

“Be specific,” he growls, tongue flicking out and brushing against the cool metal of the bell, waiting for Hanamaki to tell more. Through shallow pants and soft moans, Hanamaki manages to get out his sentence.

“I want you to breed me like you mean it, Alpha,” is all he needs, finding Matsukawa eagerly pushing his thick cock into his hole. The swift movement has both of them moaning, Hanamaki’s back arching high as Matsukawa bites his bottom lip, keeping his noises to a minimum so he can listen to his mate’s. No matter how many times Matsukawa finds himself listening to Hanamaki, he can never get tired of hearing the delicious mewls and moans from the Omega.

Large hands keep Hanamaki spread, one of his stocking-clad legs thrown over Matsukawa’s shoulder as his other hand keeps his leg up by his thigh. Landing another harsh smack against Hanamaki’s ass has a rewarding effect — white cum splattering between the two as it gets on the untainted pink skirt. Each pump of his cock into Hanamaki has Matsukawa getting closer to his own end, tongue trailing a path from his throat to his bond mark, freshly touched up only last night. Despite sporting a matching one, it’s nicely hidden under his work clothes and unable to be reached at the moment, yet he feels Hanamaki’s hands dig into his shoulder, thumb tracing over where the deep mark pulses.

A deep groan has Matsukawa pushing his entire cock, knot and all, into Hanamaki’s tight hole. The simple action has Hanamaki’s eyes rolling back and his tongue lolling out, toes curling as his muscles tense. It’s a rolling orgasm, with his walls gushing and creaming all over Matsukawa’s cock and knot. Matsukawa takes the opportunity to take Hanamaki’s tongue into his mouth, sucking on the pink muscle as he fills his Omega up to the brim, plugged up nice and tightly.

With no chance of any drop spilling out, Matsukawa leans back to gaze at Hanamaki — who is currently fucked out and still suffering the effect of his overwhelming scent, but also the multiple orgasms he’d been given. No reason to hesitate, Matsukawa takes out his phone and snaps a quick picture, sending it to in response to the picture he received only seconds before jumping his mate.

[jazinerambles]

Persona 2 Innocent Sin Review

I wanted to have some time in between playing the game and writing my thoughts for Persona 2 Innocent Sin. I will be referencing it and other Persona games so there may be some light spoilers for games 2-5. 

I played the psp version of the game on a Playstation TV. I beat the game at 76 hours on the dot. I have not completed most of the theater missions, but I have completed the main story of the game and did do a few sidequests.

My review will be organized in several sections-gameplay, story, music, characters, LGBTQ representation, extra content, wishlist and recommendation.

Gameplay:

Persona 2 Innocent Sin was released in 1999. Therefore plays as a game from 1999. The PSP rerelease updated menus, changed the difficulty, and added all out attack art similar to P3-P5 for the fusion spells. I love the all out attack animation and although the menus got a little cumbersome, it didn’t really impact gameplay for me. 

The biggest complaint about Persona 2 IS is how easy and repetitive it is and the high encounter rate. The battles for the most part are easy and if you set up all your attacks in the first round, you can basically use autoplay until an emergency occurs or you encounter an enemy in which you must change it up. 

I never saw the gameplay as repetitive as others do and I feel those who do only just battle and that’s it. I was constantly trying to get all the fusion spells, max up my personas to trade them for items, try different combinations for the demon negotiations and spread demon rumors to get items, spells, and cards (you need cards to summon new personas in the velvet room.) Demon negotiations also allow you a better look into each of the characters’ personalities and relationships. Events in the game will change how the characters react in these negotiations so it is always nice to go back to them throughout the course of the game. 

The demons you encounter have emotions. I believe they are intrigued, happy, angry and fearsome. Make them happy and they will offer a pact with you and give you free stuff and willing to spread rumors for you. Make them angry they will fight you. Make them fear you they will run away. Make them intrigued and you get the cards needed to summon personas and even more if you already have a pact with them. 

I wanted to return to the big complaint though, the high encounter rate. This was something that I felt hot and cold about. Most of the time this didn’t bother me, because I needed to level up my personas anyway. But when I needed to backtrack and explore further, it did get a little bothersome. 

You can use estoma to avoid enemies weaker than you. It is not a passive skill, so once you have a persona that has it, you have to cast it every time it wears off. At the Mu casino, you can also purchase a disguise kit that does the same thing, but it effects last about the same amount of time and it is ridiculously expensive. Just use estoma. 

As briefly mentioned above, unlike Persona 5 in which you can just catch Personas, in P2IS there are only two ways to get them. You get cards from demon negations, take those cards to the velvet room and then trade them in for a Persona. But you have to enough cards to summon it and the persona has to be 5 cards within your character level. 

You can also talk to the demon painter, for him to make you cards for the specific arcana you want by using blank cards. These are also given through demon negotiations that you have a pact with. 

In P2, ALL your characters are capable of changing out Personas, but their compatibility with different personas varies with their Arcana. 

The other way to get personas is through the story. There are certain actions that you must take to get the prime personas and then the final personas. These personas are character specific and you can’t give them to other characters. 

I wanted to talk about three more things before I move on to the story: rumormongers, fusion spells, and dungeons. 

Persona 2IS is based around rumors. Just like P3 is for the dark hour, P4 the midnight channel, P5 around palaces and so on...

To get certain items and progress the story, you MUST gather and spread rumors. There are five characters throughout the game called rumormongers. They will give you information in exchange for receiving information. You then share this information to the detective agency, pay a fee for them to spread them for you, and there you go. rumor spread. As mentioned earlier, there are also demon specific rumors. 

Fusion spells were something I really enjoyed in this game. Although hearing “Are you ready? Here goes” and “Let’s go everybody” will be stuck in my head for the rest of eternity...

Basically, to create a fusion spell, members in your party require a requisite spell and then that party member is placed in a specific order when taking turns. Once that spell is unlocked, it will let you know if you have the requisite spells and you no longer have to adjust the order of party members. Some of the spells you need to unlock fusion spells are persona specific. The fusion spells are elemental. 

I will not go into weaknesses of elemental spells, I am just going to say that you aren’t “down”’ed like you are in 3-5. 

Finally, my first real pet peeve with this game-the dungeons.

Oh boy. Air raid, AeroSpace and one of the four Zodiac dungeons (I am pretty sure its Eikichi’s) gets ALL my hate. There are cheap gimmicks that make the game artificially hard but only for these dungeons and more so, frustrating. 

But I am not going to go into detail why, and the other dungeons are not bad at all. But play the game and experience these dungeons for yourself. That is all I am going to say about that.

Story:

This section will be nowhere was long as gameplay. The story did not go where I thought it would, but that’s a good thing. I would go in completely blind if you can. The ending definitely surprised me a bit. I think it has one of the best stories of the persona games.

It does not follow a calendar like the later Persona games and time just blends together. By the end of the game, you won't know if a day, week or month passed from the beginning to the end.

Music:

The music is actually really good. It is the reason why I played the game in the first place. Just don’t look at the soundtracks names. Spotify has it available if you live in the US. You are better off listening to the soundtrack because I promise you that most dungeons songs will be cut off due to the frequency of battles. 

Some of my favorite songs are Smile Hirasaka, Unbreakable Tie, Kurosu’s theme, Joker and the Taurus dungeon’s theme.

Characters:

Despite Persona 2 not having social links, I feel like I know these characters better than some of the persona games that do have social links. It is also the only Persona game that I can say without any hesitation that I like the entire main cast. 

I truly love them all, but my favorite would probably be Yukino or Maya. 

Unlike other Personas, the dynamics for Persona 2 IS are different, because not all of your party members are high school students. The adult characters have adult problems, the high school students have high school problems, and all of them have deep psychological problems and abandonment issues that will take years of intense therapy (or Philemeon) to forget.

One of the biggest themes of Persona 2 is confronting your past and learning from the mistakes of your childhood. And the characters do! And by the end of the game you are so proud of how far they have come. And then things happen...

LGBTQ representation

Let me say that I started P2IS off on the wrong foot, but I am still absolutely justified at being upset by it. One of the very first interactions you can have with a NPC is through a very uncomfortable exchange between you, Eikichi and a transman that is pretty transphobic. And to add the icing on the cake, Atlus refers to him as a “weird woman.” 

I was literally going to just stop playing the game like an hour in because of that, but I decided to continue.

What I discovered was a game that has highs and lows when it comes to LGBTQ representation. 

You can play as a bi character who can confess his feelings to men and women. *Stares hard at Persona 4 and Persona 5*

You have a gay character that has an interesting story, character development, is unabashedly gay and isn’t a walking stereotype. Nor is his entire arc centered around gay panic. 

From what I understand the dialogue from the NPC does get better, but I am not holding my breath. 

And the one sapphic kiss scene we get in a Persona game is a kiss of manipulation and not love. So that is a little sad. 

But overall, P2IS does try to make an effort. And it definitely makes a better effort than its successor released almost 2 decades later.

Extra content:

Again, Persona 2 doesn’t have social links or a calendar. Please don’t approach it like the other games where you have to fill up your time between dungeons. It is not a necessity, but there are things you can do. 

Mu is a casino that you can visit that allows you to play mini games to gain coins that you can use to get weapons, rare items, and even unlock personas. I spent a little too much time at Mu....

You can also talk to NPCs to do side missions. Be careful though. You have to do the side missions in a given amount of time or you may not get rewarded for it. Also P2IS is very much like Final Fantasy 9 where it is much better to go to a place sooner than later, because there may not be a later...

You also have the factory which is an optional dungeon that opens up more and more as you progress through the game. 

There is the theater which is a PSP exclusive which has side missions unrelated to the main story that you can play. They are okay.

Wishlist

I hear so many people wanting a remake of P2IS so the game can be more accessible. I am very torn about this. Besides the difficulty and maaybe tweaking the encounter rate a bit, I wouldn’t change a thing. However, I also know that I couldn’t enjoy Shadow of Colossus until the controls were updated. Like I tried and then just gave up. 

I honestly don’t want a remake. I don’t trust the Atlus of today with this game.

I do want it to be acknowledged and more accessible though. 

But if I had to make a wish list, this is what it would be. Again, this would be a “it would be nice list.”

Make the battles harder.

Update cut scenes? I really like the art for the cut scenes already, but would like some more. Maybe keep the drawings but update the CG?

Social side quests. I do not want social links in Persona 2. However, side quests that allow you to learn more about your character like a social link would, would be something I would be very interested in. 

Make the portraits consistent. The art from the original game and the new art put in the PSP game (I am talking about you climax lady) clash so much. Pick one style and stick to it.

I want to fight Ms. Ideal. Let me do it for reasons. Give me a chance to battle her.

I want the option to switch out characters. I love both Jun and Yukki, but I want to be able to play with both. 

Let me skip the animation when I create a new Persona. 

*EDIT*  I can’t believe I forgot this and feel awful I did, but I do think they should keep the trans NPC, but change the dialogue and the the name. It isn’t the NPC that is the problem but the dialogue and actions. Otherwise, I think it would be ok. 

I think that’s it.

Recommendation:

So should you play Persona 2 IS? Short answer, yes. Long answer is that it is complicated. In a few months the game will no longer be accessible for psp consoles. The physical version of the game is ridiculously expensive. You will have to accept the fact this game is on psp and its sequel’s psp version never came to English speaking markets.

You may not like the graphics, gameplay, or that it doesn’t feel like the later persona games. And as much as I love this game, that is alright. You do you. But I truly do think you are missing out on a great game. So if you have the opportunity to do so, yeah absolutely give it a shot. 

[artificialqueens]

Hold Me Tighter (Even Closer), Chapter 2 (Branjie, Jankie) - Joley

ao3 link

Tumblr link

Jackie stood in the center of her apartment, hands on her hips, and exhaling deeply. She had spent the past few hours cleaning the place from top to bottom. Had it been a bit over the top? Perhaps, but she felt like she would be better off being too thorough than not enough. Maybe it wasn’t the first impression Jan would have of her, but it was one that would count.

She checked the time on her phone – she had finished with ten minutes to spare. Regardless of anything else, she was pretty proud of what she had accomplished, and she probably could put off cleaning for a couple weeks now. Who knew all she needed was just the right bit of motivation? With the time she had left, she poured herself a glass of wine. She earned it. Beyond that, she needed it.

A few moments later, there was a knock at the door and Jackie narrowly avoided spilling what was left of her wine as she set it down on the counter and raced to open the door. “Hey Jan,” she greeted casually, as if she hadn’t nearly tripped over herself to race to the door.

“Hi Jackie,” Jan chirped as she walked in, unaware of what had transpired, nor did she pick up on the fact that Jackie seemed slightly out of breath. “Okay,” she prompted, setting a purple folder on the table, “I’m ready for audition prep 101 with Miss Cox.”

Jackie picked up the folder, hand lingering on the counter while she decided whether or not to grab the glass as well. She settled against it, leading Jan into the living room. “So, how many songs do you have it narrowed down to?”

“I got it down to three,” she replied, waiting for Jackie to open the folder to see the pieces of sheet music as well as a few typed up monologues. “I have a couple tried and true ones, and one that’s a little new to me, but I think it fits the vibe of the show better.”

“Smart thinking,” Jackie praised, looking at the sheet music. “Who are you auditioning for again?”

“I thought it over, and I’m gonna go for Veronica. It’s kind of out of my comfort zone, but that’s what excites me about it, you know? If there was ever a chance to break out of what I usually do, this would be it,” Jan explained. “So, if that narrows it down any further…”

“Oh, it only leaves one option,” Jackie said simply. “‘Everything Else’ is the only one with the right energy, the other ones are too… cute, too lighthearted.” She handed Jan the sheet music.

Jan nodded and took the paper. “I trust you implicitly.”

“At your own risk.” Jackie chuckled. “Will you sing for me? I’d like to hear you go through your number, see if anything needs to be tweaked,” she told her, but she also just really wanted to hear her sing. Jan seemed so bright and confident, she was eager to know where that came from.

And Jan seemed more than willing to oblige. “Of course, I have the music on my phone, if you have a speaker or something that I can plug into.”

Jackie nodded and helped Jan get set up. “I want you to run through the whole thing, that way we can pick out the best section for your sixteen bars,” she explained. She sat down on her couch, looking as Jan stood in front of her, the student taking a few preparatory breaths.

And then Jan started singing, and everything made sense for Jackie - why Jan was in this program, why she exuded such a positive confidence. Her voice was immaculate, it captivated Jackie’s attention even more than their first meeting. And she must have shown her approval, because Jan seemed excited by her expression once she’d finished the song.

“So that was good?” Jan asked, eyes bright and hopeful.

“Perfect, are you sure you even need my help?” Jackie teased. “Here, I’m gonna highlight the bars on the sheet music,” she said, standing up and motioning her over to the dining room table.

Jan moved to stand right behind Jackie, perched up on her tiptoes to rest her chin on her shoulder, hand resting on her waist. “I’m excited about this. I wish you could be in the room or something, like a good luck charm.”

Jackie let out a soft chuckle. “You think I’m a good luck charm?”

She shrugged and smiled. “I dunno, I feel a good energy with you. Like, your presence is warm and calming. It’s a good balance, considering my default is the same as a person that took half a bottle of caffeine pills.”

That brought a slight blush to Jackie’s cheeks. She turned, giving her a hug, one she wanted more than she would ever let on. “Well, that’s very kind of you to say.”

“You smell nice,” Jan observed before Jackie pulled back from the hug.

“Oh, thank you.” Jackie grinned, doing her damndest not to get flustered. “Um, do you want something to drink? I was having a glass of wine myself,” she said, already walking over to her glass.

“I’m not twenty-one, but I won’t tell if you won’t,” she hummed.

Jackie chuckled, pouring Jan a glass as well. “I’m from Canada; it’s eighteen there, so we can play by my rules.” She winked.

Jan’s brow rose as she accepted the glass. “Oh, so you’re the boss here?” she asked as she took a sip.

“This is my house,” she pointed out with a light laugh. “Ergo, my rules.”

“Oh, we’re using our fancy adverbs now. Point taken,” Jan teased, then held her glass up. “Cheers!”

Jackie grinned, clinking their glasses and taking a sip. And for a moment, everything was calm and relaxed, but then there was a sudden, loud crack of thunder that made them both jump. They both looked out the window and saw that rain was pouring down as if it were a storm of biblical proportions.

“Shit, it’s really coming down hard out there,” Jan observed. “Wasn’t even raining when I got here.”

“I can’t let you go back out there,” Jackie shook her head. “You can stay here at least until the rain lets up, I don’t mind if you crash here if it doesn’t,” she offered.

Jan let out a small sigh of relief. “Yeah, if you don’t mind, of course,” she replied, as if she hadn’t been hoping for the offer. “It’ll be fun, we can get wine drunk and watch bad reality TV.”

Jackie started to open her mouth to agree, then paused. “Have you eaten yet? You should definitely have some dinner if you’re going to keep drinking,” she said, setting her glass down so she could go and rifle through her fridge. “I have leftover sushi if you want, or I can make sandwiches or something.”

Something about the naturally kind and doting demeanor Jackie had instantly put Jan at ease. It made her feel warm and comfortable, like they had known each other for years without the awkward pretenses that sometimes came with meeting someone new. “Whatever’s easier. I’m not a picky eater.” She shrugged.

While Jackie decided on the sushi and got that out, Jan was pouring herself another glass of wine, and topped Jackie’s glass off as well. “Thank you,” she hummed when Jackie handed her the plate, setting it on the table and sitting down to eat. “Y’know, everyone always says that sushi never tastes as good on the second day, but like, they’re just snobs. It’s totally just as good. Or maybe my standards are low, whatever.”

Jackie giggled softly as she listened. She didn’t know if it was the alcohol that made Jan ramble like that, or if that was just part of her personality. Either way, she thought it was adorable, and sat next to her as she hung onto her every word. “I think leftovers are underrated as a whole,” she agreed.

“You get me.” Jan beamed, one hand over her heart and the other on Jackie’s shoulder.

She bit down on her lip, not knowing how loud the laugh that nearly escaped would’ve been, and put her hand on top of Jan’s. “I try,” she cooed, then stood up. “Come on, let’s go watch TV,” she said and moved them to the couch, then topped off their glasses.

Jan sat down next to Jackie, as close as she could physically be without sitting on her lap. In her defense, this was always how she’d get after a couple of drinks – touchy-feely, flirty, and yes, even more talkative than normal, as demonstrated by the tangent she went off on about the show they were watching.

And Jackie wasn’t exactly complaining – especially about the touchy-feely part. The alcohol was affecting her as well; the part of her brain that was constantly plagued with overthinking and worry was always the first to go once she started to get tipsy, and neither of them had stopped drinking as they continued half-watching TV.

“God, you’re so pretty,” she said, not realizing it was out loud.

Not that it would’ve been a problem, as Jan just seemed to appreciate the compliment. “Aw, thank you! I think you’re super pretty too.”

“Do you really?”

Jan scoffed. “Of course I do. I thought you were hot since I first saw you,” she said, tossing her ponytail off her shoulder as she picked her glass back up.

“This is news to me,” Jackie admitted as she had more to drink as well.

“That’s why I’m telling you, duh,” she giggled, then turned to better face her. “Your hair is so nice and thick and shiny,” she observed, immediately going to play with it, running her hands through it and twirling pieces around her fingers.

Jackie let out a content sigh as Jan’s fingers wove through her hair. “Careful,” she warned, “this is practically foreplay for me.”

Jan smirked, her arms draping around Jackie’s neck. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

Maybe it was the alcohol, but neither of them would’ve been able to say who initiated the kiss, just that one second they weren’t kissing, and the next second they were. They could still taste the wine one each other’s lips as they let the deep, languid kiss continue.

Jackie pulled Jan onto her lap, arms wrapping around her waist. She trailed her lips along Jan’s jaw and down her neck, starting by just kissing and nipping along the expanse of skin before leaving a mark just where her neck met her collarbone. Her hands moved up and down Jan’s body, starting to push up her shirt.

Jan was a bit more direct, swiftly undoing the buttons on Jackie’s blouse and slipping it off her shoulders. Their lips reconnected in another heated kiss, and she gripped Jackie’s hair with one hand while the other pushed her bra up and palmed over her breast.

That gave Jackie enough reason to follow her lead, pulling Jan’s shirt off and pulling her close, their bodies flush up against each other. She unhooked her bra soon after, tossing it aside and letting her hands explore Jan’s bare torso.

The way Jackie’s hands felt against her body sent goosebumps all over Jan’s skin. Jackie’s hands were smooth and warm and made her arch into each touch. She started to grind against Jackie as well, straddling her thigh to better do so.

Jackie was fairly certain that she had never seen anything hotter than Jan grinding on her thigh, or heard anything hotter than the little whimpers and whines she let out. It landed on top of Jan’s sheet music, pushing a couple pages onto the floor, but neither of them noticed in the slightest.

Any sense of control or inhibition that Jan had entered Jackie’s apartment with had long since gone out the window. She tossed her head back, letting out sharp, breathy moans as she continued to grind on Jackie’s thigh with more and more fervor and desire.

Jackie caressed Jan’s body, hands moving up and down her sides, memorizing every curve with her fingertips. She pressed open-mouthed kisses between her breasts, down to her stomach as far as she could reach, eyes flicking up to watch the expression of relaxed pleasure on Jan’s face.

“Oh fuck, fuck,” Jan’s voice was higher, more strained, and it wasn’t long before she realized she was chasing the orgasm that was rapidly approaching. Her hips were bucking more erratically and she was grabbing onto Jackie wherever she could.

“That’s it, come for me,” Jackie cooed, kissing and sucking at Jan’s neck as she held her through her orgasm. And once she felt Jan let herself go limp in her arms, she scooped her up and carried her into bed.

They laid in bed quietly, nothing but the sounds of thunder and rain hammering against the windows to be heard. It was calm, but with the distant tinge of anxiety because neither of them knew what to say. What was there to say after that?

Jackie turned to face Jan, hoping the words would come to her. But to her relief, Jan had passed out. And Jackie had to admit, she looked just as beautiful asleep.

——

Jan was the first to wake up the next morning, groggy and disoriented, but not quite hungover. She wasn’t sure how she should feel about waking up topless in Jackie’s bed – guilty? Confused? Stressed? It wasn’t that she regretted it, but she was afraid that it would complicate what was supposed to be a friendship at most.

Time was ticking away before Jackie would wake up, and Jan needed to decide what she wanted to do, and quickly. She pushed herself out of bed and went into the other room to get dressed. As she went back into the bedroom, she noticed that Jackie had personalized stationary on her desk (because of course she did). Jan decided that leaving a note and bailing was the best option - it was more personal than a text and she was still able to avoid confrontation.

Hi Jackie!

Sorry to run out on you like this, I had to get somewhere in a rush. But I had a great time with you last night, and I’ll see you in class on Monday. :)

Jan ♥

Jan wondered if the heart was too much, but decided it would be worse to erase it, so she left it on Jackie’s nightstand and quietly left. And she kept her fast pace, making it back to her dorm in record time. The second she got back to her dorm, she flopped onto her bed and screamed into her pillow.

“Rough night?” Lemon asked as she casually looked over at her disheveled and distressed roommate. “Not like you to spend it elsewhere.”

“Got caught in the storm, stayed with a friend,” she mumbled as she sat up.

Lemon arched her brow. “You get hickies from your friends often?”

Jan’s eyes widened as she turned to look in the mirror. Sure enough, there were multiple visible bruises littering her neck. “Oh, fuck me.”

“Looks like someone already did.”

“We didn’t have sex!” she insisted, unable to keep the defensiveness out of her voice. “I mean, even by lesbian standards, it wasn’t sex. We weren’t even naked.”

Lemon continued to look at Jan as if she were insisting the Earth was flat. “First of all, as a lesbian, I have no fucking idea what ‘lesbian standards’ are and I don’t want to know. Second, Even if it wasn’t ‘technically’ sex, it was enough to get you all worked up like this.”

Jan groaned and laid on her back. “It just shouldn’t have happened… It was my TA, Lem.”

“Damn, you gonna get some extra credit at least?”

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I don’t know why I tell you things,” she murmured, reaching for her phone. She knew telling Gigi wouldn’t be any easier, but it wasn’t exactly something she would be able to keep as a secret.

And when Jan did meet up with Gigi, she wasn’t dreading the confession any less. They sat in a booth at a nearby diner, placing a brunch order before she decided she needed to just rip the bandage off. “I spent the night with Jackie.”

Gigi nearly spit her coffee out at that. “You did? Why? What happened? Don’t you skip any fucking details, Sport.”

Jan chewed on her lip. “The storm was really bad, so we decided I’d just stay there. Then we had some wine… well, a lot of wine. And we… We didn’t fuck, per sé, but things got very heated.”

“That would explain why you’re wearing a scarf in seventy degree weather.” she nodded as if she were making an astute observation. “So what happened when you guys woke up?”

Jan’s gaze drifted down to the table. “I woke up before she did, left her a note and went back to my dorm while she was asleep.”

Gigi looked at her friend like she was ready to grab her by the shoulders and shake her. But instead she just asked, “Are you fucking stupid?”

To which Jan shrugged and replied, “Maybe.” There was a brief pause as they received their meals. “But can you be specific as to why, though?”

“This was literally a sign that you guys have a connection, at least a physical one. The least you could’ve done is talk to her, how’s she going to take it as anything other than you not being interested, and don’t you try and act like you’re not.”

“I’m not not interested,” Jan conceded. “I just… It shouldn’t have happened like this, you know? I went over there to practice for my audition, not to dry hump her fucking thigh.”

Gigi did her best to listen and be the supportive friend that Jan clearly needed. “Look, you can’t un-fuck up how you handled that,” she started. “We just need to figure out where to go from here.”

Jan nodded in agreement as she picked at her food. Where did she go from here? Her heart said back to Jackie, but her brain said into a coma, ideally.

[missjanjie]

Hold Me Tighter (Even Closer) | (2/?)

Title: Hold Me Tighter (Even Closer) Summary: A sequel to Hold Me Closer, Tiny Dancer. Brooke Lynn and Vanessa are back at NYU, but with new and improved positions. Brooke’s ready to start her career as a professor when, as fate would have it, she realizes her TA, Jackie, might have the hots for a student named Jan. The couple just might see it as a sign to give two new girls the love story they found in the same place. Word Count: ~3k (this chapter) / ~6.1k (total) Relationship(s): Branjie (Brooke Lynn Hytes/Vanessa Vanjie Mateo), Jankie (Jan Sport/Jackie Cox) Rating: E

read on ao3

Jackie stood in the center of her apartment, hands on her hips, and exhaling deeply. She had spent the past few hours cleaning the place from top to bottom. Had it been a bit over the top? Perhaps, but she felt like she would be better off being too thorough than not enough. Maybe it wasn’t the first impression Jan would have of her, but it was one that would count.

She checked the time on her phone – she had finished with ten minutes to spare. Regardless of anything else, she was pretty proud of what she had accomplished, and she probably could put off cleaning for a couple weeks now. Who knew all she needed was just the right bit of motivation? With the time she had left, she poured herself a glass of wine. She earned it. Beyond that, she needed it.

A few moments later, there was a knock at the door and Jackie narrowly avoided spilling what was left of her wine as she set it down on the counter and raced to open the door. “Hey Jan,” she greeted casually, as if she hadn’t nearly tripped over herself to race to the door.

“Hi Jackie,” Jan chirped as she walked in, unaware of what had transpired, nor did she pick up on the fact that Jackie seemed slightly out of breath. “Okay,” she prompted, setting a purple folder on the table, “I’m ready for audition prep 101 with Miss Cox.”

Jackie picked up the folder, hand lingering on the counter while she decided whether or not to grab the glass as well. She settled against it, leading Jan into the living room. “So, how many songs do you have it narrowed down to?”

“I got it down to three,” she replied, waiting for Jackie to open the folder to see the pieces of sheet music as well as a few typed up monologues. “I have a couple tried and true ones, and one that’s a little new to me, but I think it fits the vibe of the show better.”

“Smart thinking,” Jackie praised, looking at the sheet music. “Who are you auditioning for again?”

“I thought it over, and I’m gonna go for Veronica. It’s kind of out of my comfort zone, but that’s what excites me about it, you know? If there was ever a chance to break out of what I usually do, this would be it,” Jan explained. “So, if that narrows it down any further…”

“Oh, it only leaves one option,” Jackie said simply. “‘Everything Else’ is the only one with the right energy, the other ones are too… cute, too lighthearted.” She handed Jan the sheet music.

Jan nodded and took the paper. “I trust you implicitly.”

“At your own risk.” Jackie chuckled. “Will you sing for me? I’d like to hear you go through your number, see if anything needs to be tweaked,” she told her, but she also just really wanted to hear her sing. Jan seemed so bright and confident, she was eager to know where that came from.

And Jan seemed more than willing to oblige. “Of course, I have the music on my phone, if you have a speaker or something that I can plug into.”

Jackie nodded and helped Jan get set up. “I want you to run through the whole thing, that way we can pick out the best section for your sixteen bars,” she explained. She sat down on her couch, looking as Jan stood in front of her, the student taking a few preparatory breaths.

And then Jan started singing, and everything made sense for Jackie - why Jan was in this program, why she exuded such a positive confidence. Her voice was immaculate, it captivated Jackie’s attention even more than their first meeting. And she must have shown her approval, because Jan seemed excited by her expression once she’d finished the song.

“So that was good?” Jan asked, eyes bright and hopeful.

“Perfect, are you sure you even need my help?” Jackie teased. “Here, I’m gonna highlight the bars on the sheet music,” she said, standing up and motioning her over to the dining room table.

Jan moved to stand right behind Jackie, perched up on her tiptoes to rest her chin on her shoulder, hand resting on her waist. “I’m excited about this. I wish you could be in the room or something, like a good luck charm.”

Jackie let out a soft chuckle. “You think I’m a good luck charm?”

She shrugged and smiled. “I dunno, I feel a good energy with you. Like, your presence is warm and calming. It’s a good balance, considering my default is the same as a person that took half a bottle of caffeine pills.”

That brought a slight blush to Jackie’s cheeks. She turned, giving her a hug, one she wanted more than she would ever let on. “Well, that’s very kind of you to say.”

“You smell nice,” Jan observed before Jackie pulled back from the hug.

“Oh, thank you.” Jackie grinned, doing her damndest not to get flustered. “Um, do you want something to drink? I was having a glass of wine myself,” she said, already walking over to her glass.

“I’m not twenty-one, but I won’t tell if you won’t,” she hummed.

Jackie chuckled, pouring Jan a glass as well. “I’m from Canada; it’s eighteen there, so we can play by my rules.” She winked.

Jan’s brow rose as she accepted the glass. “Oh, so you’re the boss here?” she asked as she took a sip.

“This is my house,” she pointed out with a light laugh. “Ergo, my rules.”

“Oh, we’re using our fancy adverbs now. Point taken,” Jan teased, then held her glass up. “Cheers!”

Jackie grinned, clinking their glasses and taking a sip. And for a moment, everything was calm and relaxed, but then there was a sudden, loud crack of thunder that made them both jump. They both looked out the window and saw that rain was pouring down as if it were a storm of biblical proportions.

“Shit, it’s really coming down hard out there,” Jan observed. “Wasn’t even raining when I got here.”

“I can’t let you go back out there,” Jackie shook her head. “You can stay here at least until the rain lets up, I don’t mind if you crash here if it doesn’t,” she offered.

Jan let out a small sigh of relief. “Yeah, if you don’t mind, of course,” she replied, as if she hadn’t been hoping for the offer. “It’ll be fun, we can get wine drunk and watch bad reality TV.”

Jackie started to open her mouth to agree, then paused. “Have you eaten yet? You should definitely have some dinner if you’re going to keep drinking,” she said, setting her glass down so she could go and rifle through her fridge. “I have leftover sushi if you want, or I can make sandwiches or something.”

Something about the naturally kind and doting demeanor Jackie had instantly put Jan at ease. It made her feel warm and comfortable, like they had known each other for years without the awkward pretenses that sometimes came with meeting someone new. “Whatever’s easier. I’m not a picky eater.” She shrugged.

While Jackie decided on the sushi and got that out, Jan was pouring herself another glass of wine, and topped Jackie’s glass off as well. “Thank you,” she hummed when Jackie handed her the plate, setting it on the table and sitting down to eat. “Y’know, everyone always says that sushi never tastes as good on the second day, but like, they’re just snobs. It’s totally just as good. Or maybe my standards are low, whatever.”

Jackie giggled softly as she listened. She didn’t know if it was the alcohol that made Jan ramble like that, or if that was just part of her personality. Either way, she thought it was adorable, and sat next to her as she hung onto her every word. “I think leftovers are underrated as a whole,” she agreed.

“You get me.” Jan beamed, one hand over her heart and the other on Jackie’s shoulder.

She bit down on her lip, not knowing how loud the laugh that nearly escaped would’ve been, and put her hand on top of Jan’s. “I try,” she cooed, then stood up. “Come on, let’s go watch TV,” she said and moved them to the couch, then topped off their glasses.

Jan sat down next to Jackie, as close as she could physically be without sitting on her lap. In her defense, this was always how she’d get after a couple of drinks – touchy-feely, flirty, and yes, even more talkative than normal, as demonstrated by the tangent she went off on about the show they were watching.

And Jackie wasn’t exactly complaining – especially about the touchy-feely part. The alcohol was affecting her as well; the part of her brain that was constantly plagued with overthinking and worry was always the first to go once she started to get tipsy, and neither of them had stopped drinking as they continued half-watching TV.

“God, you’re so pretty,” she said, not realizing it was out loud.

Not that it would’ve been a problem, as Jan just seemed to appreciate the compliment. “Aw, thank you! I think you’re super pretty too.”

“Do you really?”

Jan scoffed. “Of course I do. I thought you were hot since I first saw you,” she said, tossing her ponytail off her shoulder as she picked her glass back up.

“This is news to me,” Jackie admitted as she had more to drink as well.

“That’s why I’m telling you, duh,” she giggled, then turned to better face her. “Your hair is so nice and thick and shiny,” she observed, immediately going to play with it, running her hands through it and twirling pieces around her fingers.

Jackie let out a content sigh as Jan’s fingers wove through her hair. “Careful,” she warned, “this is practically foreplay for me.”

Jan smirked, her arms draping around Jackie’s neck. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

Maybe it was the alcohol, but neither of them would’ve been able to say who initiated the kiss, just that one second they weren’t kissing, and the next second they were. They could still taste the wine one each other’s lips as they let the deep, languid kiss continue.

Jackie pulled Jan onto her lap, arms wrapping around her waist. She trailed her lips along Jan’s jaw and down her neck, starting by just kissing and nipping along the expanse of skin before leaving a mark just where her neck met her collarbone. Her hands moved up and down Jan’s body, starting to push up her shirt.

Jan was a bit more direct, swiftly undoing the buttons on Jackie’s blouse and slipping it off her shoulders. Their lips reconnected in another heated kiss, and she gripped Jackie’s hair with one hand while the other pushed her bra up and palmed over her breast.

That gave Jackie enough reason to follow her lead, pulling Jan’s shirt off and pulling her close, their bodies flush up against each other. She unhooked her bra soon after, tossing it aside and letting her hands explore Jan’s bare torso.

The way Jackie’s hands felt against her body sent goosebumps all over Jan’s skin. Jackie’s hands were smooth and warm and made her arch into each touch. She started to grind against Jackie as well, straddling her thigh to better do so.

Jackie was fairly certain that she had never seen anything hotter than Jan grinding on her thigh, or heard anything hotter than the little whimpers and whines she let out. It landed on top of Jan’s sheet music, pushing a couple pages onto the floor, but neither of them noticed in the slightest.

Any sense of control or inhibition that Jan had entered Jackie’s apartment with had long since gone out the window. She tossed her head back, letting out sharp, breathy moans as she continued to grind on Jackie’s thigh with more and more fervor and desire.

Jackie caressed Jan’s body, hands moving up and down her sides, memorizing every curve with her fingertips. She pressed open-mouthed kisses between her breasts, down to her stomach as far as she could reach, eyes flicking up to watch the expression of relaxed pleasure on Jan’s face.

“Oh fuck, fuck,” Jan’s voice was higher, more strained, and it wasn’t long before she realized she was chasing the orgasm that was rapidly approaching. Her hips were bucking more erratically and she was grabbing onto Jackie wherever she could.

“That’s it, come for me,” Jackie cooed, kissing and sucking at Jan’s neck as she held her through her orgasm. And once she felt Jan let herself go limp in her arms, she scooped her up and carried her into bed.

They laid in bed quietly, nothing but the sounds of thunder and rain hammering against the windows to be heard. It was calm, but with the distant tinge of anxiety because neither of them knew what to say. What was there to say after that?

Jackie turned to face Jan, hoping the words would come to her. But to her relief, Jan had passed out. And Jackie had to admit, she looked just as beautiful asleep.

------

Jan was the first to wake up the next morning, groggy and disoriented, but not quite hungover. She wasn’t sure how she should feel about waking up topless in Jackie’s bed – guilty? Confused? Stressed? It wasn’t that she regretted it, but she was afraid that it would complicate what was supposed to be a friendship at most.

Time was ticking away before Jackie would wake up, and Jan needed to decide what she wanted to do, and quickly. She pushed herself out of bed and went into the other room to get dressed. As she went back into the bedroom, she noticed that Jackie had personalized stationary on her desk (because of course she did). Jan decided that leaving a note and bailing was the best option - it was more personal than a text and she was still able to avoid confrontation.

Hi Jackie!

Sorry to run out on you like this, I had to get somewhere in a rush. But I had a great time with you last night, and I’ll see you in class on Monday. :)

Jan ♥

Jan wondered if the heart was too much, but decided it would be worse to erase it, so she left it on Jackie’s nightstand and quietly left. And she kept her fast pace, making it back to her dorm in record time. The second she got back to her dorm, she flopped onto her bed and screamed into her pillow.

“Rough night?” Lemon asked as she casually looked over at her disheveled and distressed roommate. “Not like you to spend it elsewhere.”

“Got caught in the storm, stayed with a friend,” she mumbled as she sat up.

Lemon arched her brow. “You get hickies from your friends often?”

Jan’s eyes widened as she turned to look in the mirror. Sure enough, there were multiple visible bruises littering her neck. “Oh, fuck me.”

“Looks like someone already did.”

“We didn’t have sex!” she insisted, unable to keep the defensiveness out of her voice. “I mean, even by lesbian standards, it wasn’t sex. We weren’t even naked.”

Lemon continued to look at Jan as if she were insisting the Earth was flat. “First of all, as a lesbian, I have no fucking idea what ‘lesbian standards’ are and I don’t want to know. Second, Even if it wasn’t ‘technically’ sex, it was enough to get you all worked up like this.”

Jan groaned and laid on her back. “It just shouldn’t have happened… It was my TA, Lem.”

“Damn, you gonna get some extra credit at least?”

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I don’t know why I tell you things,” she murmured, reaching for her phone. She knew telling Gigi wouldn’t be any easier, but it wasn’t exactly something she would be able to keep as a secret.

And when Jan did meet up with Gigi, she wasn’t dreading the confession any less. They sat in a booth at a nearby diner, placing a brunch order before she decided she needed to just rip the bandage off. “I spent the night with Jackie.”

Gigi nearly spit her coffee out at that. “You did? Why? What happened? Don’t you skip any fucking details, Sport.”

Jan chewed on her lip. “The storm was really bad, so we decided I’d just stay there. Then we had some wine… well, a lot of wine. And we… We didn’t fuck, per sé, but things got very heated.”

“That would explain why you’re wearing a scarf in seventy degree weather.” she nodded as if she were making an astute observation. “So what happened when you guys woke up?”

Jan’s gaze drifted down to the table. “I woke up before she did, left her a note and went back to my dorm while she was asleep.”

Gigi looked at her friend like she was ready to grab her by the shoulders and shake her. But instead she just asked, “Are you fucking stupid?”

To which Jan shrugged and replied, “Maybe.” There was a brief pause as they received their meals. “But can you be specific as to why, though?”

“This was literally a sign that you guys have a connection, at least a physical one. The least you could’ve done is talk to her, how’s she going to take it as anything other than you not being interested, and don’t you try and act like you’re not.”

“I’m not not interested,” Jan conceded. “I just… It shouldn’t have happened like this, you know? I went over there to practice for my audition, not to dry hump her fucking thigh.”

Gigi did her best to listen and be the supportive friend that Jan clearly needed. “Look, you can’t un-fuck up how you handled that,” she started. “We just need to figure out where to go from here.”

Jan nodded in agreement as she picked at her food. Where did she go from here? Her heart said back to Jackie, but her brain said into a coma, ideally.

[theimpossiblescheme]

Yesterday, Tomorrow, and Today

I sat on this for a while because I kept wanting to tweak it, but here it is at last--the next installment in mine and @nonchalantdanger‘s alternate universe, in which Cyrano feels less guilty than he expected about surviving the battle and Roxanne reflects on her past follies.  Hope it passes muster!

Cyrano was not a man given to morbidity.  In the face of certain death, he vastly preferred to laugh instead of cower, and he never considered failure a viable option.  Let the Reaper come, and he would meet the scythe with steel of his own, meeting his only worthy foe in final single combat.  Let him die in the same manner as a star, in a glorious conflagration that blinded any unlucky souls nearby.  Without fear or compromise… that was the only way.

And yet, standing over what only hours earlier had been a desperate battlefield, blood still staining the soil, he found himself musing on how close he’d come to being cheated of that last glory.  How close they had all come.  The sack of Troy, the razing of Carthage, the charging wolves of Ragnarok… those were great battles, but those were mere stories.  The Siege of Arras had come nowhere close—two starving armies of condemned men, denied even the honor of brave last words before the swords fell, prolonging their own starvation at the end of a cannon because it was preferable to dying by the same.  As he stood by one of the supply wagons, handing up whatever weapons and artillery they could rescue, he heard the other cadets chatting blithely, as if their day hadn’t been spent charging through mud and human viscera.  Perhaps they genuinely didn’t mind—they had so little waiting at home for them besides the anticipation of another battle.  They would have their grand death the next time… or the time after that.  It was only a matter of waiting and preparing.

It was a bitter irony… even a few days ago, Cyrano would have agreed wholeheartedly, would have stood with them and anticipated another siege with that same sanguine grim humor. Now he actually had more waiting before him than simply digging his own grave… more to live for.  More that he had never considered before.  As he handed up another crate, he made eye contact with Le Bret, who was standing in the wagon and stowing everything away safely. His friend looked unwell, favoring the leg that hadn’t been slashed by a Spanish sword, but more than that he looked exhausted.  He looked out at the rest of the cadets and shook his head very gently, a familiar look of melancholy contemplation in his eyes.  Constant, level-headed, dependable Le Bret, who loved friendships more than worthy foes, who’d defied the usual Gascon tradition of dying young… Cyrano could tell exactly what he was thinking.  And for once it didn’t seem so much like his usual growling.

Of course, Cyrano would go right back to teasing him tomorrow.  Today was simply a special occasion.  

“Is that all of it?” came de Guiche’s voice as he rounded the corner of the wagon, eyeing the process imperiously.  His numerous silks and ribbons were frayed and singed in various places, his left foot dragged a bit behind the right, and a fine cloud of ash wafted by every time he moved his head too sharply.  

“A few more minutes, and it will be,” Le Bret replied.  “There was precious little to recover on our side.”

“A pity they didn’t shoot at us a few more times,” Cyrano quipped bleakly.  “Then we might save a few more cannonballs for a rainy day.”

“I wouldn’t give the Spanish too many ideas.”  De Guiche raised an unimpressed eyebrow in Cyrano’s direction.  “You survived by the skin of your teeth as it is.”

“Despite your best efforts, of course.”

“Don’t press the issue or my recent good graces too far, de Bergerac.  I can just as easily send you all back to engage those louts closer to their own territory.”  But the Comte’s posture relaxed again as he nodded up to Le Bret.  “As it is, you may be dismissed when you are finished.  We depart for Paris at daybreak tomorrow.”

“Where is Roxanne?” Cyrano asked.  His conversation with Christian was still fresh in his mind—he had to gauge Roxanne’s feelings toward seeing him again.  And… well, he hadn’t seen her since he left the surgeon’s tent.

“In Ragueneau’s coach. Unharmed, thank God, but unchaperoned—someone had best check on her before nightfall.”

Cyrano couldn’t help but smile to himself.  Nothing would give him more pleasure.  Nodding up at Le Bret again, who gave him a good-natured eyeroll, he tagged in a new cadet nearby to take over his post and took his leave, making his way across the camp. Snatches of song and chatter still wafted by, but he managed to avoid the crowd as he drew closer to the sagging, scarred, but still stately coach sitting at the top of the hill.  Ragueneau himself was nowhere to be found—no doubt he was still getting the cadets very drunk on his smuggled muscatel—but there was still no sound from inside, and the curtains were drawn.

After a quiet knock on the door, Roxanne’s voice finally piped up.  “Who is it?”

“Cyrano.  May I join you?”

The door swung open, and Cyrano ducked inside and sat down.  On the opposite bench sat Roxanne, who didn’t even look up at him when he entered. Her beautiful green eyes were downcast, her face a sullen mask, and her hands gripped tightly together against her skirts until her knuckles were white.  The spirit of the Valkyries of old, of red-robed Ate crying havoc and letting slip the dogs of war, had left her.  She looked so lost… and she had been so happy just a few hours ago…

Tentatively raising a hand, the stitches in his shoulder straining from the effort, Cyrano cupped her cheek and gently raised her head until she was looking at him.  “What troubles you so, dear heart?” he asked softly, tracing his thumb along the line of her jaw.

Roxanne shook her head, looking down again, but leaning into his touch.  “I have been such a fool.”

“Come now… I have known and loved a girl who charged across rivers and forests with wild abandon, never caring if she soiled her skirts, and a woman who threw herself into a duel to which she was merely a spectator, saving both our lives with a single parry.” He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile.  “If ever you were a fool, it only reminded me that you were of the human race and not a seraph capable of being worshipped, but never held.”

“Do you suppose Christian thinks of me that way now?”  She raised her head again, and Cyrano felt his chest contract to see tears in her eyes. “I have cheated him—I have cheated the both of you—for so long.  I was so taken with the Apollo you had formed together, with his curls and your words, that I failed completely to see the golden halves that made up that whole.  I said such terrible childish things to him, thinking he had grown stupid, wishing he would grow ugly…”  A sob caught in her throat, and she clapped a hand over her for a moment mouth to stifle it.

“I know what you said to him,” Cyrano said slowly, lowering his hand to clasp both of hers.  “I… was present at both occasions, though you did not see me.”  That first time, when Christian found himself witless and terrified by Roxanne’s demands of eloquence… he was not proud of his reaction then in hindsight.  He was too petty, too ready to take it as proof that Christian was unworthy of her.  But their conversation before the battle… listening to Roxanne shower such praise upon their shared soul—his soul—made him dare to hope, but it also made his heart ache for Christian.  Dear absurd Christian, who loved her fiercely, but in whom she found nothing inherently loveable that hadn’t been gifted to him by another.  He deserved so much better.

Roxanne laughed a tiny mirthless laugh.  “Naturally, you were.  You must have thought me so selfish, seeing and asking for only what I wanted to see—what I had all along, but was too blind to notice.  I was Narcissus vainly searching for what I found beautiful, and he was Echo repeating those beauties back at me… and I nearly let him waste away as she had.”

“You forget that Echo was a nymph once with her own voice and her own fair form before the curse fell upon her.  Hers and Christian’s desires were the same—to be seen and adored for themselves.  He wished desperately for your happiness and does still, as I do, but to prepare such a banquet for another while sustaining oneself on mere scraps…”  He gave a mirthless smile of his own.  “There are few things bitterer to endure, even for the sake of a great love.”

“And to think I have starved you both…”  Another sob tore through Roxanne, and tears began streaming down her cheeks.  “How could he ever forgive me for it--?”

“He already has.” Cyrano stroked her tears away with the pad of his thumb.  “He bears no ill will toward you, and he has confessed to me that no matter your current sentiments towards him, he will never stop loving you.  He remains a great soul, Roxanne—perhaps not the one you had pledged your own to, but one nonetheless.”

“And yet I saw it not… I saw only your words…”  Her voice trailed off, and for a moment, Roxanne seemed to process his words, guilt and sudden fear warring in her eyes.  “I have not said a word to him since I left him at the surgeon’s… I must find him, I must speak to him.”  She started to get to her feet.

“In the morning,” Cyrano cut in gently, catching her hand again and guiding her to sit back down.  “We depart in the morning, and you may speak to him then.”

“And you are certain he does not hate me?  For… for loving a single man who never existed and nearly losing him twice over?”

“How could any man hate you, Roxanne?”  He raised her hands to his lips, kissing her fingertips reverently.  “How could we scorn the love, even the misguided love, of one so exquisite?  It was love for you that emboldened Christian’s spirit, raising him to new heights of courage and nobility.  And it was love for you that kept me from despair.  Without attentive mother, without sister, and certainly without mistress, I have had one fair-figured friend keeping me tethered to this earth rather than hurtling towards death.  You have enriched two lives, not ruined.  Never ruined.”

“If either of you had died today, I would have never forgiven myself… I would have spent the rest of my life never knowing… grieving a shadow instead of the two great men before it…” Another torrent of tears ran down her cheeks.

“And yet here we are.” He cupped her face and smoothed away her tears once more.  “Here I am, my love.”  God, how he wanted to kiss her, but it still felt so foreign, so wrong almost, even to touch her.  Seeming to read his mind, however, Roxanne leaned forward and took the plunge.  As their lips met, she clung to Cyrano’s shoulders as if she were afraid she might float away if she let go, and he brought a hand up to cradle the back of her head, fingers threading through her red-gold hair.  And for a long moment, all was right with the world.

When they parted, her eyes were still damp, and he pressed a kiss to both her eyelids in turn, tender as a whisper.  He heard her gasp gently under his touch, and his heart sang at the sound.  “Stay with me tonight,” Roxanne breathed, still clinging to him.

As tempting as the offer was… “I have to return to camp,” Cyrano replied, gently extricating himself from her grip.  “De Guiche will be searching for me, and I know he shall never forgive me for any possible compromise of your virtue.”  That got a watery chuckle out of Roxanne, and he reveled in that sound as well.  “If I could bring you with me, I would… I will send for Ragueneau to watch the coach.  You shall not pass the night undefended.”

Roxanne nodded.  “And I will see you in the morning?”

“You will.  I will arrange for you and Christian to talk—you will tell him everything you told me.”

“If you see him sooner than that… tell him I am sorry.  From the bottom of my wretched heart.”

“Such terrible words, my love, for a sin already forgiven.”  Outside—a world away, it seemed—a hush had fallen over the camp, and the last of the fires had been doused.  Time for him to return.  Tomorrow they would see Paris again.

And Cyrano would live to see it.  With his dearest friends and the love of his life by his side.  Such graces he never deserved, to stave off some distant glorious death a little longer… where would he be without them?  He gave her one last kiss, a chaste one of her forehead.  “Good night, Roxanne.”  Parting is such sweet sorrow…

She finally smiled again. “Good night, my love.”

[empyreanwritings]

Sinful (2)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: mentions of oral (male and female receiving), light d/s themes, exhibitionism, mentions of a M-F-F threesome (later haters). You may not read this if you are under 18.

A/N: This isn’t explicit smut cause I still feel like I would suck at smut BUT I hope you enjoy this. This is probably going to end up being 4 or 5 five parts since it’s just a mini series, but we’ll see if I get carried away lol. Let me know what you guys think! Feedback is always welcome and encouraged (: x

Again, if you are under 18, you are not allowed to be reading this.

You sat in the briefing room, attempting to listen to the details Steve was giving out about the next mission. Attempting being the key word.

Bucky sat on your left, and Nat was on your right. They hadn't said anything about your night spent with them all morning. They had snuck out before you woke, and the only proof you had that it all happened were the two hickeys on either side of your neck. Everything else felt like a dream, but you knew it couldn't have been.

You could still taste the both of them on your tongue.

The most confusing part was that they seemed so casual about it. There wasn't an ounce of awkward in their demeanor towards you. You assumed that meant it was a one-time thing, and it was time to move on. You just weren't sure if you'd be able to move on as quickly as they had. It had been one of the best nights of your life. How do you forget that?

Your moans filled the room as Bucky brought you over the edge with his mouth for the second time. His tongue worked magic in ways you never experienced before. And the things he could do with those metal fingers? Euphoric.

The best part was even when you began to adjust to the amount of pleasure he brought you, Nat would amplify it all by bringing the attention to your breasts. She'd tweak and bite at your nipples until they were pleasantly sore. And the way she sucked over the soft skin above and below your breasts made you realize how badly she wanted to mark you. Which, mark you she did.

When they switched positions, you didn't think it was possible to come again, but Nat delicately pulled several orgasms out of you until you were trembling against her fingers. You would have screamed had your mouth not already been occupied and full of Bucky.

"Y/N?" Steve's voice brought you out of your thoughts, and you felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

"Sorry, what?"

He chuckled, knowing you had been zoned out for the last ten minutes. "Before Barton found you, you were working with The Facility, correct?"

You nodded. You hated when people brought up your past work with them. You weren't proud of what you did, and you willingly joined the Avengers in hopes it would clear your ledger.

"We can't go in blind. Anything we should know beforehand? Anything that might help us complete the mission more successfully?"

"There's one guard always on watch in the tower. He's easy to," you smirked to yourself, "Distract. I can keep him occupied until you all finish. He'd be our only real problem."

Sam let out a low whistle. "Are you - innocent little Y/N - suggesting what I think you are?"

"A lady can't kiss and tell, Wilson," you said as you shot him a wink.

Bucky's hand slipped down to your thigh, and you jumped when he gave it a rough squeeze. You looked over at him in surprise. His eyes were hard, and you watched his gaze flick over behind you to Nat.

You slowly turned to see her giving you the same look as Bucky. You felt like you were being scolded, but you weren't entirely sure what for. No one else seemed to notice the exchange either, so it wasn't like you could look around and see if you were imagining it.

All you knew was you had a feeling you'd be in for it later.

Steve thanked you for that bit of information, his ears turning a noticeable shade of pink as he did. You forgot that he still wasn't used to women being so open about their sexuality. It surprised you considering the women on the team were incredibly open about anything and everything, but you found that charming about him. He still got flustered, and it was adorable.

It wasn't long after that he decided to dismiss everyone, and you noticed Bucky and Nat were the first ones out of the room.

You stayed in your seat to give yourself a moment to think. You absentmindedly chewed at your bottom lip, which you knew was a bad habit, but you couldn't stop yourself. Their reactions to your comment didn't make any sense, and you were worried.

Did you upset them? Were you supposed to follow after them and apologize?

You figured it was insulting to bring up another person after you just had sex with someone since it made it seem like you weren't satisfied enough. It was the only conclusion you could come to; they weren't upset, just slightly disrespected.

You leaned back in your chair and ran your hands over your face. The first threesome you ever had - with the two people you had been crushing on since your arrival - and you managed to make them feel like they didn't do enough. And it wasn't intentional! You were trying your hardest to seem as calm and collected as they had been, but you failed at it. You ended up making things much worse for yourself.

With a sigh, you decided to head back to your room and hide out for the rest of the day. You had no duties to fulfill, and you were too nervous about running into the couple to think about doing anything else. You were going to snuggle under your blankets and pretend not to exist for a few hours.

It was the perfect plan.

Well, it would have been the perfect plan if you ever made it to your room.

Right before you made it to your door, you were pulled into Bucky and Nat's room. Your back hit their door with a gentle thud! and you gasped when Bucky pressed his hips against yours, letting you feel how hard he was under his jeans.

"Our girl's been misbehavin' Nat," he tsked. "Talkin' about other men in front of us like that. You'd think she was doin' it on purpose."

Nat wrapped her arms around his waist and peeked her head around, so she could look at you. Her expression was soft, but you could see a glint in her eyes that let you know she wasn't fully happy with you.

"Give her a break, Buck. I don't think she realized what last night meant for us," she cooed.

You cleared your throat. "I don't- I don't know. What's happening, exactly?"

Bucky stroked the side of your face with his metal hand, and you practically purred at his touch. The hardness in his eyes was gone. You weren't sure what his look was now, but you could tell it was much more tender than before. You almost enjoyed the moment had your confusion not clouded every other emotion you were feeling.

"You're ours now, kitten." The look on your face must have seen panicked because he gave you a reassuring smile. "With your consent, of course. We would never force you into anything that you weren't comfortable with. Obviously, that's a conversation we'll all need to have."

"But what he's trying to say is last night wasn't a one-time thing for us. We want you in every way that you want us," Nat piped in to spare you from Bucky's ramblings. "You okay with that?"

You nodded, words failing you in that exact moment. This was a situation you had never been in before. You heard of poly or open relationships in the past. They didn't seem weird or out of the ordinary to you, but you never saw yourself being in one. Until now. You couldn't imagine being without Nat or Bucky because they were both what you needed in your life, but you worried that you were overthinking it. What if what they wanted was strictly sexual? Could you handle only being with them in that way?

The simple answer was yes, but when were things ever simple in your life?

"We need your words, kitten. Tell us if you're okay with this," Bucky whispered, his lips ghosting over yours.

"Yes," you whimpered. "I'm okay with it."

"Good."

He pulled away abruptly, and you heard him chuckle at the little whine that left your lips. He moved to their bed, taking a seat on the edge of it. His whole body seemed to relax - almost like they had planned this moment before they pulled you into their room.

"You've gotta be punished for that comment you made in briefing, Y/N," Nat hummed as she took her spot next to Bucky. "Strip. Slowly."

Her words and the authority in her voice made your legs turn to jelly. Their eyes stayed on you with every button that you undid your top. When it fluttered to the ground, you saw Nat begin to palm Bucky's crotch. The action sent a pool of heat to your stomach, and you almost stopped what you were doing to watch them, but Nat made sure to point out that you weren't finished getting undressed for them.

It should have felt weirder than it did - to be standing completely naked in front of two fully clothed people - but it didn't. You loved every second of it. The way their eyes looked over your body with lust filled you with pride.

Two of the hottest ex-assassins looked at you like you were worthy of being in a museum. Of course, you were going to be a little prideful.

"Now, kneel in front of us," Bucky ordered, pointing the spot in the middle of the floor.

You did as you were told, which made both of them smirk.

"You're going to watch us have sex, and you are not allowed to move. No touching yourself, no shifting to get some sort of friction on that pretty little clit of yours. You can only sit there like the good girl you are, understand?"

You swallowed thickly. "Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, sir," you mewled.

It was the most erotic thing you had ever experienced. Watching them take each other's clothes off and ravish each other in ways you wished they would do to you was enough to make your core ache. You could feel yourself dripping down your thighs, but you behaved. You didn't move or try to clench your thighs. You watched them milk as many orgasms out of each other as possible and managed to stay quiet the whole time. It was as if following their orders was second nature to you.

You had to admit, though, the punishment felt worse than it was. All you wanted was to get your hands on their bodies, which is what ached the most. But you knew that if you listened, they would make it worth your while.

And you couldn't wait for that moment.

Tags: @coohlwhip @marvelfansince08love

Marvel Tag: @killcomet @stuckysheart @steampowerednightvaler @scarlettglowss 

[rivkahstudies]

do you have any advice for a high school senior who wants to make the most of their last year of high school? asking for a friend :)

hi darling! I think the things I remember most from my senior year (though it was only two years ago that it started) can be summarized in, “crazy busy, crazy stressful, but at times, crazy fun.” Here’s to making the most of it, and maintaining health while you do so!

This is going to be combination masterpost and advice post, because I’ve accumulated a lot on this subject and I have a loooot to say. 

Also this is heavily based off of the assumption you’re pursuing higher education, but some of these things still apply/can be tweaked.

table of contents:

i. academics

ii. social life

iii. personal health

i. 𝓪𝓬𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓶𝓲𝓬𝓼

a. grades

They’re important for your future if your plan is to go to college or academy, but they’re not the whole world. (see social life and personal health)

I’m not a big fan of the “3-to-1 rule” or other such things that tell you “study for this amount of time no matter what” because it’s important for you to understand what comes naturally to you and what you need further clarification on. Some classes are going to take up less of your time than others.

The best you can do on a given day isn’t necessarily 100%. Sometimes your best that day is 90%, 80%, 60%. “try your best” isn’t “your best ever” so don’t push yourself for 100s every time for the expense of categories ii and iii.

A lot of people (at least in places like where I went to high school) who are hung up on the stress of competition and the need to be The Best™ are going to ask you for grades. It’s going to be everywhere. Assignment grades, test grades, SATs, ACTs, (if you’re not in the US, the equivalents of your state, regional, or national standardized tests), entrance exams, et cetera, et cetera. I know it’s tempting to fall into the anxiety of whether you measure up, but here’s a quick tip: even if you think you did well/above average, you can keep it private. It infuriated my classmates when I wouldn’t share, because I was comfortable with how I competed with myself and didn’t care what my peers thought of my scores. 

When you’re someone as dedicated to studying as I am, you might get a lot of “oh, you got that grade because you’re you” (the underlying implication being that it’s natural or the work is easy for you, which was not the case for me) or “ha! I got higher than (name)! I measure up!” This is a lot of their own biases and insecurity talking and the best way not to be affected is not to buy into it. Again, this is based on my own experience.

 I really cannot emphasize extra credit enough because some of my teachers threw it around like candy and some of them barely drizzled a little in at intervals, but either way it really saved me when it came to rounding my grades up.

It never hurts to have a grade tracker if you’re concerned, you don’t get graded by total points accumulation/have a weighted system, and/or don’t have an easy way to access your grades online throughout the year.

find your study strategy/ies for each class and stick to it/them. It won’t necessarily be the same. I’m a primarily visual learner, and it really, really helps for most things, but I still need rote memorization for subjects with a lot of vocabulary, like medicine or languages.

further resources

studying without notes by @fuckstudy . 

prioritizing that crazy to do list (the abcde method) by @eintsein

a comphrensive guide to anki (flashcards online) by @studyingstudent

a stash of tiny study tips by @acalmstudiousfirecracker

and much much more on my #studyref tag.

b. extracurriculars

These I think matter (though I’m biased) more than grades, because they’re what shape you and your experience. Most of the students at my university had grades like mine, but it’s the places I frequented and the people to whom I devoted my time that formed my sense of self. I have so many skills, anecdotes, and ideas that I’ve gained from my extracurricular work.

If you have any you’ve stuck with since early in high school and you still like, keep ‘em. Quality over quantity. Show jobs or universities you can be dedicated and disciplined, and have stamina to see projects to the end. (I was in 7 and held leadership positions in 4 and it was probably part of the reason why I spent all of senior year on three hours sleep… besides my IB classes of course.)

If you’re not pursuing college immediately or at all (or even if you are), participate in ones that pull you out of your comfort zone and teach you something new.

ii. 𝓼𝓸𝓬𝓲𝓪𝓵 𝓵𝓲𝓯𝓮

Treat this category as you would anything else in your schedule–requiring time and being a significant priority. Not always at the very top, but still demanding its own attention.

See friends outside of school, for however long or short a period, at least once every week to two weeks. This can include extracurricular time if you’re pressed.

Schedule time with your family (especially if their lives are also cluttered and hectic) do something dynamic, and also something separate that’s relaxing. One week your family time might be reading in the same room and having gentle conversation or a family dinner; the next might be going out to the movies or taking a hike together. It can be easy to feel taken for granted or to take family for granted.

By the way, this includes “chosen” family if you’re not on great terms with some/all of them. I have experience with this too.

Get. Out. Of. The. House. This plays into “personal health” too! You need a change in rhythm/routine and exposure to the outside. Especially in your winter season. 

I’m one of those people who has to have things scheduled way in advance, so family/curfew/etc permitting, do something a little bit spontaneous, say with only a few hours or a couple days notice. It will make you feel more alive if you’re in a stressful slump.

Communication is really important, especially if you’re stressed. Don’t be afraid to tell people “I am sensitive/hyperreactive to X because Y is putting me on edge right now” or “this triggers X insecurity because I’m anxious about Y.” This goes doubly if you’re struggling with mental illness. Talk to someone you trust. (See “personal health.”)

Don’t give in to peer pressure if you’re spent the time you need with friends and have to excuse yourself for other responsibilities. Balance!

No is equally as important to respected as Yes, no matter what the case.

Respect boundaries but invite people to challenge their comfort zone at their space.

Don’t be broken up if a romantic relationship doesn’t last. It’s senior year. Everything’s changing. Let it.

Also, please don’t be like me and let your summer/your school year be eaten up with relationship drama. I thankfully ended a difficult relationship early (late September) so it wasn’t a huge issue, but I watched people close to me struggle with while also battling the stress of the year.

iii. 𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓸𝓷𝓪𝓵 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓵𝓽𝓱

mentally

If you’re struggling with mental illness, be aware of your own limits and pace yourself.

Sometimes we feel dull because we need to break routine/stimulate ourselves in a new way. You should have a structure/routine, but it should be flexible enough for you to adapt to changes and listen to what your mind and body are telling you.

The path to self-love must first begin with self-acceptance. If you struggle with self-image or self-esteem issues, you can’t build positivity off a foundation of negativity. You must first level it to neutrality.

Perform check-ups with yourself. This may be in the form of meditation, a diary, therapy, etc. None of these things are a “last resort” but rather a healthy part of building good mental habits.

physically

Exercise! You don’t have to be a star athlete to bring about the benefits. Even a 15 minute jog, 30 minute walk/hike, or 10 minutes of stretching can give you benefits.

On that note! Take! Frequent! Breaks! And please, please google stretches for certain body parts like hands if you do repetitive motion like drawing or writing for a long period of time! You don’t want to push yourself!

Listen to your body and don’t ignore pain, hunger, nausea, fatigue, etc. Respond patiently and with what’s appropriate.

Don’t forget about diet. It’s easy when you’re busy to reach for the quick and nutritionally poor snacks/meals, but it’s really important to set aside time to cook/meal plan or even just throw together a quick snack tray of fruits/crackers/cheeses/etc. It doesn’t have to be instragrammable but you should have a balanced diet that factors in your specific needs, if you have any restrictions, etc.

Change yo pillow case frequently kids, it does wonders for acne.

I cannot stress enough! To! Stay! Hydrated! My goal is eventually eight glasses a day but my minimum is 4-5. I try to have one every meal, especially in college.

Bedtime is important! But more than that, wake up time is important. If you’re trying to adjust your schedule and can only keep one consistent, choose the time you wake up. Eventually your body will naturally become fatigued for the bedtime to match it. It’s how I turned my sleep schedule from 12:00 AM to 8:00 into 9:30 PM to 5:30 AM over the course of one winter break! 

If you’re a morning person, you’re a morning person. If you’re a night owl, you’re a night owl. There’s research now to prove that forcing yourself into a rhythm too extreme for your tendencies can make you feel awful either way.

At the end of the day, you’ve got one goal and one goal only: to look back on this year and be proud of what you’ve achieved and how you’ve grown. You shape your future and choose what matters most in your life!

If there’s anything else you think I’ve missed or you’d like me to cover more in depth/link more posts to, please ask me! I’d be happy to clarify/continue this series! I want to make sure you’re completely satisfied.

[thebeethathums]

Observers - 56

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader

You jumped when, as usual, the door to your flat was flung open but this time you’d taken preventative action. The door hit the bumper you’d installed and bounced back to hit Sherlock’s shoulder and side with almost as much force as he’d used to fling it open. You tried really hard to stifle a giggle as he stumbled back, giving the door a death glare before turning to you to accuse, “You installed a bumper.” You shrugged going back the painting you were working on as you articulated, “If you would stop throwing my door open like a crazed maniac, things like that wouldn’t happen.” He huffed in annoyance but turned his attention to your flat, taking in all the sketches and drawings of various sizes that covered every flat surface and wall of your living room. It had been a good couple of months since he’d seen it with a series of back-to-back cases keeping both him and John busy and you working two jobs in addition to painting. You occasionally went out with them for cases but letting John use your sketches on his blog, something that you now did on a regular basis, had garnered you a job as a freelance illustrator for a publishing company in town and the majority of your time was spent between the café and meeting deadlines. 

Sherlock didn’t like it at all but you had said you wanted to take a step back and he was trying to respect that since he felt bad for hurting you. It had been rather easy to avoid you with the cases he’d been working and your busy schedule, even if it put him in a bad mood and John found him insufferable. In fact, the few times that you had gone with them had been after a considerable amount of pleading on John’s part and your own guilt over the fact that the arguments in 221B had doubled since you’d taken the illustrating job. 

You missed them both terribly despite the fact that you were glad for a bit of a break from your thing with Sherlock. It gave you time to think it over without him confusing you, which in the end really just resulted in you realizing that you missed him to the point of it almost being painful. It was a fairly miserable situation for all of you but you were determined to be in a place where you didn’t have to worry about choosing between buying groceries and paying rent. Sherlock stepped over to one of your bookshelves where each shelf had a series of drawings pinned to it depicting the adventures of a pink rabbit that was shaped like a very adorable jellybean- your latest assignment from the publishing company. “How long?” you hummed, not looking up from your painting, and he flopped down in your chair as he whined, “Six hours and thirty-seven minutes.” Setting your brush in the container of water, you spun on your stool to look at him, “And John doesn’t have anything from his blog for you?” “He went to Sarah’s an hour ago, grumbling about how I was being insufferable or some other ridiculous nonsense… and he hid the gun and my cigarettes. Will you make me tea?” Your lips twitched into a small smile as you slid off your stool, “Of course,” 

He followed you to the kitchen as you stretched your arms over your head, “You’ve been working full days and painting at night every day for nearly a week now. The people at your publishing job are pleased with your work since they’ve given you three more projects to work on within the course of two weeks and they pay you well enough for you to have replaced a few empty tubes of paint and a brush but not so well that you can leave your work at the café. You miss the adventure and potential conflict of coming along with me and John on-“ You sighed, for once not really in the mood for his deductions, and bounced up to press a quick chaste kiss to his lips, “I miss you, genius.” It successfully shut him up as a sprinkling of pink dusted across his pale cheeks and his fingers came up to press at his lips, it was the first time you’d kissed since the whole ‘experiment’ incident and the first time you’d ever initiated the kiss instead of waiting for him to come to you. He reveled in the high he’d been missing for a moment as you went back to making tea and then wrapped himself around you from behind, resting his chin on your head, “I’m bored.” “I’m aware. How about an experiment? Molly said she had some leftover kidneys from a class in the morgue… I’m sure she’d be happy if you took them off her hands.” You could literally feel him pull a face before leaning over to purr in your ear, “I can think of better ways to stave off the boredom if you’re willing.” You pushed him back gently, knowing exactly what he wanted, and slipped the cup of tea in his hands with a firm, “No.” He followed you back into the living room to whine, “But (F/n)-“ “No, Sherlock.”   You sat back down on your stool and picked up a paintbrush just as he pouted, “But I’m bored. You know it only gets worse.” You sighed, considering that before setting down the brush again as you decided to give him what he wanted, “Fine. You win. Go get Cluedo.” He jumped up almost gleefully to grab your arm, “We can play upstairs. I can’t have you getting distracted by your work.” You let out a mirthful laugh, bounding up the stairs with him to flop down on the couch while he set up the board on the coffee table, you’d needed a break anyways. You turned your cheek to look at him, “Remind me again why Johnny told me never to play this game with you?” “That would be because John is an idiot,” Sherlock stated giving a tiny smirk and you chuckled, “It’s a good thing I don’t listen to him then.” Sherlock offered you a full grin and you slid off the couch to sit on the floor across from him, letting him take the first turn as you began the game. John came home the next morning to find you both still sitting at the coffee table engaged in an intense game of Cluedo. John just sort of gaped for a moment, watching you giggle as Sherlock moved his game piece across the board, both of you so focused you hadn’t noticed him come in.

The sight in front of him was truly astounding, not only were you playing Cluedo without arguing but it seemed that at some point during the many rounds you’d played the two of you had devised and added more cards and game pieces to modify how the game was played. Sherlock suddenly gave you an intense look as he exclaimed, “I suggest that Mr. Bloom murdered Professor Plum in the office with a syringe of poison. The motive I give is Plum was developing a serum that would put Bloom out of business.” You tweaked your lips to the side in thought and then countered, “I agree with your accusation, location, and weapon but I believe there is more to your motive.” Sherlock folded his hands beneath his chin in thought as he hummed, “Explain.” “I suggest the motive to be a payment from an interested party, namely Mycroft, for eliminating Professor Plum and thereby halting his research into bioweaponry for Russia, his true country of origin.” Sherlock gave a small proud smirk, “Agreed. The points for motive go to you… but I’m still winning.” “Only by two hundred points,” you huffed, puffing your cheeks out, and he chuckled before eagerly asking, “Another round?” John cleared his throat and you startled, turning to blink up at him before giving a wide grin, “Hey, Johnny… Sherlock said you were staying at Sarah’s.” “I did,” John confirmed, cocking an eyebrow at you, “It’s nearly nine in the morning, Squeak.” You and Sherlock both gave him a dumbfounded look, “What?” “How long have you two been at this?” John wondered, giving a soft chuckle at how caught up in the game you’d both gotten. “Nearly twelve hours,” Sherlock offered distractedly, wondering how exactly you’d managed to keep him from the boredom for that long, and you sighed as you flopped down on the floor with a yawn, “No wonder I’m so tired all the sudden.” “Don’t you have work soon,” John worried, stepping closer to survey your game, “And I’m pretty sure that all of this is against the rules.” You sat up to look at him, “You know I’ve never been one for rules, John… and I have the week off from the café. Figured it was time for a bit of a break.” “Good because I refuse to play Cluedo with him ever again and I’d rather he didn’t shoot the walls, as would Mrs. Hudson.” “What do you have against Cluedo, Johnny?” Sherlock pursed his lips, offering an answer for him, “He says it’s not possible for the victim to have done it.” You tilted your head as you frowned at your brother, “Why not? Sherlock’s reasoning seemed perfectly sound to me.” John clenched his jaw and then snapped, “Because it’s not in the rules!” “The rules are wrong, John!” Sherlock snapped back and you had to stifle a giggle as they began to argue over it and you got up to make yourself some tea, stretching your legs before moving towards the kitchen. You had just leaned against the counter to inhale the steam from your tea when the arguing abruptly stopped and Sherlock loudly announced, “I’ve been summoned.” John appeared in the doorway to the kitchen a second later with a pleading look on his face and you chuckled, “Relax John. You couldn’t keep me from coming if you tried.” Within minutes the three of you were out of the flat, you and John tailing a very enthusiastic looking Sherlock down the street as you all felt a sense of relief that everything was as it should be.

Tags <3:

@team-free-sherlock @multifandom-ramblings @madshelily @severusminerva @yes-but-theyre-my-dorks @smitemewiththysherlock @not-fandom-addicted @unknownwonder @deducingdevil @aviien @mrsfrankensteinsworld @lolamurphy @bakerstreethound @musical-doll-x @protectteamfreewill @delightful-pirate @lilcutekittykat @broke-and-overwhelmed @adri1ii @turtle-at-the-disco @fanfictionsilove @chasedbyhowlingwolves @thorkyrie-rights

[paigenotblank]

14, 22, 33, 50 for the writers ask game thingy!

14. What’s the most research you ever put into a book?

I try ridiculously hard to research things, but I’m not entirely sure about what the most research I’ve done is. It is probably something stupid that I spent a couple hours trolling the internet to find out though. In my fic, Secret Diary of a Sex Surrogate, I know I did some research on sex surrogacy in the UK as well as like 20 minutes searching whether British people use the term “cubby-hole.” My beta got a kick out of that one.

22. How many drafts do you need until you’re satisfied and a project is ultimately done for you?

Is it bad to say that if I let myself, I would find something to change every single time I read it? But typically, I get an idea and outline it. Sometimes, I’ll get a very specific idea for dialogue within a certain scene and write that first. Then I go back and start from the beginning. I also have a terrible habit of editing as I go along, so it takes me forever to progress through a story because I’m always tweaking. When I finally finish, I really don’t do a lot of editing because I’ve been doing it the whole time. But I will do a read though, make changes, then either put it down and walk away for a bit or do an additional read through from a different device. Both of those tend to give me the fresh eyes I need for the final draft. But, uh, yeah, I am never 100% satisfied.

33. Do you listen to music when you’re writing?

I don’t make it a habit of listening to music while I write, because it sometimes takes me out of hearing the dialogue in my head. Occasionally, I have it on in the background, but mostly if I’m editing or writing description.

50. Weirdest story idea you’ve ever had.

Oh. Hmmm. I don’t know if I get really strange ones! I guess the more unique ones was making Hannah from Secret Diary of a Call Girl a sex surrogate for a particularly strange character that DT played for literally 5 mins. 🤷One that I was particularly proud of how it turned out was when the Ninth Doctor was basically Death and he was charged with collecting Rose’s soul, but was unable to and it vexed him. It wasn’t really weird or a unique idea, but I think I put a fresh spin on it.

That was fun! Thanks so much for asking!

Ask Game for Writers. ask me a question about writing

[writingjusttowrite8]

Warmth (Chapter 11)

So, this is a little late… my bad. Life has been super hectic, but I graduated college so yay! This doesn’t contain much smut (though there is a bit), cuz it’s mostly fluffy romance. Tom’s hair has me feelin’ some type of way for a while now, so be prepared for the next chapter to be all about that lol. As always, thank you so much for your continued support in reading this story. I’ve gotten some really sweet messages that truly make me happier than words can describe, so thank you all so much for that. Please let me know what you guys think!

You can also read this on AO3! 

Part 1| Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 |

-

I jumped into Tom's arms; ignoring how he ungracefully dropped the stuff he was carrying. He had clearly been working out; his chest was hard and wide and his arms were thicker than I remembered. I clutched his chest close to me and wrapped my legs around his waist.

"You're here, really here," I said, breathing in his scent. I felt his bearded chin nuzzle into the side of my face, and him placing gentle kisses on my cheek. I pulled back a bit to look at him, my eyes glassy, and run my hand through his beard.

"I had to come see you. I was going mad, especially after my drunken night of revelations. Seeing you over Skype and hearing your voice on the phone is great, but feeling you with my own hands is infinitely better," Tom said, gently letting me down to the floor.

"But, how did you have the time to-"

"I made time. I'll always make time for you," He said, placing both hands over my cheeks. My smile grew, and so did his before he leaned down to kiss me. It was hot and intense, feeling his lips move along with mine after so long without it. I wrapped my fingers in his longer hair and groaned at the feeling.

"God, love your hair like this," I groaned against his lips. I felt him smirk, but he didn't cease his movement. He was mauling my neck, pressing me against the wall outside of my suite. I hiked my leg around his him, and Tom held onto it and pulled it higher. His hips ground into mine and I felt myself get dizzy with anticipation.

"You know," I said while Tom kissed at the base of my neck, "there's a very large and private bed inside, if you want to get comfortable in there." In lieu of a verbal response, Tom hiked my entire body up, holding me, and walked me into the room before dropping me onto the bed. His lips found mine again, but something else crossed my mind. "My presents!" I shouted, which muffled against his lips.

"I'll get you more," He said, obviously consumed solely with getting me undressed. I whined in protest.

"I want those..." I said, tugging his hair. His head dropped to my shoulder and he grunted before quickly spinning around, getting the bear and chocolates from the hallway and slamming the door shut once more.

"May I properly ravish you now?" Tom asked, a slight hint of amusement and pain in his voice. I scooted up further onto the bed.

"Do your worst."

-

I awoke to soft snoring and the rhythmic rise and fall of a chest underneath me. I inhaled Tom's bare skin for what seemed like the millionth time in the last 12 hours, desperately trying to commit it to memory. I glanced at the clock to see 8:43 a.m. flashing, before looking up at Tom's peaceful sleeping face. He was getting so pale, his hair turning back to its natural ginger; that boy needs to see the sun more often. I shifted around a bit, not wanting to disturb our moment of serenity, but tried to climb up further onto Tom so I could kiss him. My hands played with his hair while I placed love bites on his neck. I felt him nuzzle into me, making his coarse beginning of a beard tickle my skin. I lifted my lips to his; eyes still closed, and licked his bottom lip for entrance. His tongue swirled with mine and I felt him grasp my hips. My core was still wet and slick from our multiple couplings last night, and I ground into him, feeling his erection come to life. One of his hands came up to kneed my breast and tweak my nipple, and his mouth never once faltered while on mine.

           I trailed one of my hands down between us to pump his cock a few times, almost getting embarrassed when I realized just how wet I was. I moaned into his mouth as I lifted my hips and guided him into me. His hand gripped me tighter as my head dropped to the side to catch my breath.

“I love having you… inside of me…” I breathed into the shell of his ear. He groaned and began bucking into me. I sat back, balancing on his chest and began moving up and down. His eyes were only slightly open, staring at me as I threw my head back in ecstasy. His hands grabbed at mine and he intertwined our fingers together. We moved slowly, relishing in the feel every stroke and soft touch. I leaned back down over him, so that I could kiss him as deeply as possible. I gasped as I came, rubbing my clit on the coarse and wiry hair at the base of his cock. He pumped himself into me a few more times before releasing into me. His cum felt hot and fulfilling, and I nearly passed out on top of Tom.

“I miss waking up like that,” he whispered into my ear. I smiled while still breathing heavily and chuckled a bit.

“Soon we’ll be able to wake up like this all the time,” I said. Tom rubbed his large, warm hands in soothing circles on my back.

“Indeed my love, we will. Soon,” He said, staring down at me. My smile faded a bit when a realization came over me.

“How long do you have here?” I asked, propping myself on my elbow to look at him.

“Today and tonight. I leave early tomorrow morning,” Tom said, sadness in his eye.

“How’s shooting going?” I asked, trying to get off the subject of him leaving.

“Well enough. The script isn’t as fully formed as I initially thought. I like it though; the producers actually listen to me, and the rest of us, when we want to make changes. I miss being a producer. I might have to try it out again soon,” A proud smile replaced the sadness that had washed over him. I let out a wide grin; I loved seeing such passion out of Tom. He was truly made to be an actor.

“I’m glad. But not too soon. We’re finally getting some time off in a couple weeks, remember?” I asked. Tom chuckled and rolled on top of me, brushing some hair out of my face.

“If this morning is any inclination as to what awaits me in our time off together, you better believe I will never forget it.”

             We showered and dressed quickly, and began eating breakfast in the small sitting area of my room. I was buttering a croissant when Tom asked me about a subject I’d nearly forgotten.

“Are you truly not mad at me for the way I announced our relationship. I know you’ve said you’re not, but I need you to be honest with me. It’s okay if you’re mad; to be honest, I’m a little mad at myself. I shouldn’t have let something as big as that slip,” he said.  I took a bit of my croissant before responding, wanting to choose my words carefully.

“I’m not mad; the only thing I’m mad about was that so many people got to see your fun, drunk side and I still haven’t. But in all seriousness, I’m not. It was bound to come out at some point, and the timing wasn’t ideal, but I doubt there would ever be an ideal time. If anything, I’m mad at myself. I feel bad for forcing you to hold it in for so long. If I had known that the sense of relief that overcame me when I found out, I would have never asked you to hide it. I want us to be a team, not just to each other, but also in the eyes of the world. Our lives are our own, and giving the power over to everybody else to dictate how our relationship should go isn’t something I want to do anymore. I want to be with you; I think I have from the moment I met you. I’m glad we don’t have to hide anymore. No matter the circumstance, I think what happened was for the best,” I said. We were sitting so close to each other I had to crane my neck up to look at him. He was contemplative, taking into consideration ever word I said.  I small, tender smile started on his lips, and I could have cried because of how happy it made me.

“You really are something different all together. I love you,” Tom said. I reached up and placed a tender kiss on his lips, with he returned with the same kind of love. It wasn’t the normal, heated kiss that ended with each other tangled in the sheets, but the kind of kiss that reassured intimacy in other forms.

“I love you too,” I said once we pulled apart, “but we’re in one of the most romantic cities in the world on valentines weekend. We should explore a bit before coming back here and fucking each other senseless.”

Tom’s eyebrows rose up at me. “Or we could just skip the exploring and go straight to the senseless fucking?” He gave me a cocky grin. I pouted and looked up at him through my lashes. He rolled his eyes and sighed, giving me a small smile of amusement. “Or we could do whatever you want to.” I smiled, grabbed his face and pulled him into a sweet kiss.

“Good choice.”

-

Paris was always beautiful, but it was even more beautiful being there with someone you love. Tom had been giving me lessons in French all day, trying to improve my very broken understanding of the language. But the way he was able to so flawlessly fit in to those around him never ceased to amaze me.

“I’ve worked here a lot. We came to France quite a bit as children and spent most of our holidays here. That’s really only why I know it so well,” Tom said, as we walked down the street.

“It is quite beautiful here; have you ever considered moving here?” I asked. Tom took a moment before responding, holding my hand a little closer and rubbing his thumb in circles on the back of it.

“Not really. Sometimes the beauty of a place can only remain if you keep it at a distance. I’m not sure I would like it the same way if I lived here,” He finally said.

“That’s very poetic,” I started, “keeping something at a distance so not to tarnish it’s beauty.” Tom shrugged

“Would you ever move here?” He asked me.

“No!” I responded much quicker than I should have. “I mean, I love London too much. Plus we’re away so often, that having another place to try to be together would just be too much,” I corrected. Tom chuckled a bit at me.

“Well, if you’re not here then I certainly would have no reason to be,” Tom said. He stopped us and pressed a sweet kiss onto my cheek. I blushed at such a public display of affection, especially after hiding it for so long. As I looked up at him when he pulled away, I realized there wasn’t any reason to hide, and let myself do what I’ve wanted to do for so long now. I threw my arms around his neck, pulling him back down for a deeper kiss. Our mouths moved in sync, and he grabbed my cheek with his large hand. I always hated couples who made such a spectacle of their relationship, but now I realized what I’d been missing out on. Kissing Tom so publically felt so freeing; as if I was finally saying ‘He’s mine! We’re together! And we can make out whenever we want because he’s mine!’

           I was the first to pull away from the kiss, but I pressed a few short ones as I pulled away. I looked up at him to see a flushed, boyish grin on his face, and my deep red lipstick smothered along his mouth.

“Sorry, I guess I got caught up,” I said biting my lip and using my thumb to get some of the lipstick off.

“I’m not sorry at all. I’m glad we finally get to do this now. And I intend to keep doing this for a very long time,” Tom said before pulling me into another mind-numbing kiss.

-

By the time Tom and I made it back to the room, we were clawing at one another. We’d barley shut the door before our lips were on each other’s again. He led me back to the bed, and I fell onto it with Tom towering over me. He grinned down at me and a devilish look overcame him. I started breathing heavier with anticipation. Tom trapped me between his arms, his face hovering over mine. I lifted my head to attach our lips, but he used one hand to gently push it down. For a few moments, Tom traced my skin with the tip of his nose, nuzzling me occasionally and making me giggle a bit whenever his beard would rub me. Finally he connected our lips, and I couldn’t help but smile into the kiss. This kind of intimacy was so agonizingly wonderful. My hands were all over him; tracing his face, in his hair, down his neck, until a buzzing sound came from my purse.

I rolled over, fumbling around in my carelessly discarded purse before pulling out my phone. I finally got it and looked at my screen in confusion.

“Who is it?” Tom asked, between pressing ticklish kisses against my neck.

“It’s Henry… that’s odd,” I said. Tom kept kissing my neck, but I felt him falter a bit. I debated whether or not to answer it for a minute, before putting my phone down. But before I could actually get it down, I felt Tom’s hand slide down my arm and grab the phone from my hand. He accepted the call on the last ring and pressed it to his hear.

“Hello?” Tom said into the phone, nonchalantly. He sat back on his knees, keeping me pinned beneath him. I swatted his chest and mouthed ‘what are you doing?’ at him. Tom smirked down at me and I could hear Henry’s deep voice on the other end.

“This is her… boyfriend,” Tom said. Part of me was angry for answering it, but another part became curious as to why he had hesitated before saying ‘boyfriend’. I looked up at him and tried to get out of his grasp and tear the phone away from him, but he was able to hold my arms down with his free hand.

“Ah, well, unfortunately [Y/N] will be otherwise occupied tonight. She won’t be joining you,” He said smugly. Henry had called me wanting to go out? This was odd.

“That’s kind of you to offer, but I believe I’ll be more than capable of keeping [Y/N] entertained by myself. Have a good evening,” Tom hung up the phone. My cheeks burned; half from anger at his actions, half in embarrassment.

“What the hell, Tom!” I screamed at him, once he let me go. I pushed him off of me and walked to the other side of the room, after grabbing my phone from his hands.

“He knows you have a boyfriend, why would he be asking you out to dinner on Valentines Day?” Tom asked, a hint of anger playing in his voice. I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Because he’s nice. He didn’t know you were in town and figured I’d be alone. Also, we’re coworkers! It isn’t exactly unheard of for coworkers to go to dinner together. We went out together plenty of times before we started dating!” I continued.

“Exactly, and look where we ended up!” He said standing up and walking in front of me.

“What the hell are you talking about?” I asked incredulously.

“We were friends well before we started dating,” Tom said, darkly. I looked at him in disbelief.

“You think I’m cheating on you?” I asked, my voice quiet.

“NO! But I don’t trust him! He shouldn’t be going after you, I thought it would be best to ward him off a bit,” Tom’s voice wavered a bit. I stood frozen. Anger, disbelief, and sadness coursed through my body.

“You honestly think that was the way to ‘ward him off’? Being rude to him? Speaking for me? Accusing him of intentions you have no way of proving? That’s really what you came up with?” I asked through gritted teeth. The realization of what he did finally washed over Tom. His angry expression faded, and his eyes dropped to the floor.

“He gets to be around you. You work with him every day. He gets to see you, to touch you, to feel you. I don’t. I’m thousands of miles away and some other man gets to be there for you. You have to understand how horrible it is for me to know this.” Tom said, staring at the floor.

“You don’t think I’m jealous too? That other women get to be around you and I don’t? Women constantly thrown themselves at you, Tom! I have to grin and bear it and it sucks but I do it! You’ll have to figure out a way to do it too!” I said. I relaxed my arms and rubbed my face. How can such a sweet, hot moment of love turn into… this.

“I’m sorry,” Tom whispered, “I shouldn’t have done that.” I took a deep breath.

“No you shouldn’t have. Why did you?” I asked. Tom sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

“I’m terrified of loosing you, of letting other people into our relationship. If anyone ever caught you two out, even just as friends, the media would jump on it and try to tear us apart. I’ve been through that before, and I’m not strong enough to ignore it all again. I can’t loose you, [Y/N]. I love you so much and my jealously got the best of me. I’m so sorry,” His eyes looked up to mine with a pleading look. I walked over to him, but he made no move to touch me. I placed my hands on either side of his face and looked up at him.

“We can’t let anyone tear us apart; not Henry, not the media, anyone. I won’t let them. I love you Tom, so much that it can be painful. Don’t let anyone else affect you like that. I’m with you, only you. Never doubt that,” I pleaded with him. I wasn’t angry anymore, just sad. The separation and unexpected announcement of our relationship had taken a major toll on us, and we hadn’t even realized it. His hand cupped mine, keeping it to his face, as he stared down lovingly at me.

“I won’t.”

-

The wind blew harshly against my face as we walked into the airport. The normal entrance was too crowded with paparazzi, so we were taken through a back entrance with significantly less weather coverage. I grabbed onto Tom’s arm tighter and he squeezed my hand in assurance. Despite my hatred of the cold, I was thankful that it was consuming my thoughts over what our actual purpose was here. Tom was leaving to go back to L.A. to finish filming. Though the trip was unexpected and quick, it stung a bit whenever he had to leave.

           We finally made it inside of a small side alcove connected to the boarding zone of the air plane, and the person who had been walking us in turned to us and told Tom it would be a few minutes before he could board. Tom nodded curtly and the man exited the area. I looked up at Tom while he placed his hands on either side of my face, smoothing out my hair.

“We’re getting better at this; I’m not even crying this time,” I joked. It was supposed to sound humorous, but my sadness drowned the fun out.

“You said it yourself; soon we won’t have to say goodbye for a while,” He reminded me.

“Yeah, but we’re having to say it right now,” I started, “Living in the present is a lot harder to do than looking to the future.”

“But that future will be much better. And it’s not that distant, only a few more weeks,” Tom said. I grimaced when he said weeks. His attempt to cheer me up was failing, and I felt bad for making it so hard.

“Thank you for coming out to see me. I’m really happy you came,” I said. He smirked mischievously.

“I believe we both came, quite a few times actually,” Tom teased. I playfully slapped his chest, embarrassed by his comment. He laughed at my reaction and tugged me in for a tight hug. I reciprocated the hug, holding onto him for dear life.

“I love you so much, never doubt that. I’m yours; entirely,” I whispered. Tom pulled back just a little, so that he could capture my lips in a deep kiss. I kissed back just as fervently. When he finally pulled away, we were both breathless.

“As am I. I love you,” Tom rested his forehead against mine. I looked into his eyes once more, and pressed a very quick last kiss. The man who led us here cleared his throat, alerting us to his presence. My cheeks burned with embarrassment, but Tom didn’t seem to mind.

“Call me when you get to L.A.,” I said, voice breaking a bit. Tom nodded, stepping back towards the plane, but still holding onto my hand. He pressed a kiss to the back of my hand while maintaining eye contact, before dropping it and turning to board. I watched him for a few moments, waved back at him when he quickly spun around to wave at me, and wiped my eyes for the few stray tears that had fallen.

Only a couple more weeks, I told myself, then Tom and I can truly start our lives together.

[checkmate-cherik]

River of Tears pt. 2

Ayyyyy there’s more!

“How were your days, pups?” Erik asked his children easily as he gave all three of them hugs. It was their joke, from that time a child with no filter had said Erik had a smile like a shark. It still made his kids smile, though Pietro wriggled uncomfortably when Erik gave him his brief hug.

“Fine,” Wanda answered serenely.

“Okay,” Pietro said with a shrug.

“Aunt Raven has two boyfriends!” Lorna blurted excitedly.

Erik raised an eyebrow. Raven was Lorna’s tutor, and she and Erik sometimes got beers with Emma to complain about their lives. He’d known Raven was getting serious with Azazel—they’d had a kid together, after all, who would be about the twins’ age now—but he hadn’t known there was a second man in the picture. “Did she tell you that you could tell others?” Erik asked, tweaking Lorna’s nose gently.

“No.” Lorna pouted a little, knowing that her papa would not let her regale them all with tales of the two boyfriends if she did not have permission.

“Alright then.” Erik kissed her forehead. “Get her permission and tell me everything.”

Lorna brightened at that.

The three children and Erik squeezed into the tiny kitchen of their small house and made dinner all together. Lorna practiced her control with knives and the peeler, Peter and Wanda bickered about some school gossip, and Erik hummed softly as he made spaghetti sauce from scratch.

He’d had a good day at the steel mill. They had tried to promote him three times, but instead he’d just asked for a raise, and gotten it; and now he was the highest-paid quality checker at the mill. He deserved it. Even his enemies grudgingly admitted that Erik was the greatest asset. He could do literally any job at the mill, his mutation was instrumental in keeping everyone safe and the machines working properly, and he genuinely enjoyed the work. He was a little pissed that they still hadn’t replaced the machines so they would be safer, but not enough to do more than send periodic memos.

Erik smiled to hear Lorna squeal gleefully, “Papa, I did it, I did it! None of them warped!”

“Excellent!” Erik turned and hugged Lorna, checking the metal of the knives just to be sure; but they were still sharp and in perfect condition. “I’m proud of you, pup.”

Lorna grinned up at him.

Dinner was eaten around the tiny table, with barely enough elbow room for all of them. But the children talked easily to their papa, and he spoke gently to his pups, in a way that would’ve made his coworkers gape in shock. He blinked in surprise, though, to hear Pietro casually mention, “Oh, that Haller kid who abandoned his dad, I told him off for it. He’s an ass.”

“I did, too!” Wanda exclaimed, surprised. “He’s still a selfish little kid. I hope he grows up soon.”

“How old is he, again?” Erik asked.

“Sixteen,” the twins said in unison, then glared at each other. When they were younger they would laugh when they spoke in unison; now they were eighteen and tired of it, but it seemed like it was just something that was going to happen forever. Erik and Lorna had made their peace with it.

Erik hummed thoughtfully. Then he told his children, “I don’t think you should bring it up to him again. He might listen, he might not, but it isn’t your problem.”

Pietro scowled, but nodded. Wanda sighed and nodded too.

After clean-up, the kids all got out their homework and Erik worked on the new porch. He was putting in a newer, better ramp up to the front door for his mother’s visits, and he wanted to build a porch to match. He trusted his children to work hard and help each other while he wasn’t there, and they had never betrayed that trust. The thought warmed him, and he hummed Star Wars songs as he finished anchoring the ramp to the new porch.

When Pietro came out for his evening run, Erik packed up his tools and materials and put them away in the garage. Then he went in, to see Lorna lounging on the couch with a book and Wanda still at the table, scowling as she chewed her pencil. Erik ruffled Lorna’s hair in passing and sat beside Wanda.

“What’s stumping you?” he asked.

Wanda shoved her book at him. He raised his eyebrow, recognizing Les Mis when he saw it. “I’m supposed to write an essay about Marius and Cosette,” she muttered, “But they’re boring to me. I wanna write about Enjolras.”

Erik smiled. He’d always identified with Enjolras far more than anyone else, too. But he felt more like Valjean these days; protective of his children, trying to redeem himself…

No, better not to think of that.

“Alright. So do that,” he told Wanda.

She stared at him. “But the teacher said we had to write about Marius and Cosette,” she protested.

“Break the rules,” Erik said in a reasonable tone. “You told me this teacher is fairly conservative; shake him up a little bit. Write about Enjolras and his struggles. Write about his charisma, how he drew together Les Amis de l’ABC. Write about his relationship with violence. Write about whatever you want.” Erik smiled to see a fire begin in Wanda’s eyes, as she began to grin. “Break the damn rules, Wanda.”

She lunged and hugged her father tightly, then turned back to her notebook and began to write at a furious pace. Erik kissed her head and stood to go check on Lorna.

~

Charles was exhausted when he got home to see David playing video games and a grilled ham-and-cheese sandwich waiting on the counter, still warm.

Charles went first to David and leaned down to kiss his head, earning an annoyed grumble, then turned and went to eat. It was much better than he could’ve done. He got out the papers that needed to be graded, and spent three hours on them. Then he sighed; he couldn’t put it off much longer.

“Dad?” David called warily.

“It’s fine,” Charles answered, a little too quickly. “Everything’s fine.” He kept his shields up and tight. But he took a deep breath and got out the thirty-page manifesto an anonymous professor had sent him about how he was inherently vile and an abomination and deceptive and all manner of bad things. There was plenty of “You cheated to get your PhD’s” as well. He forced himself to read through it more thoroughly, putting more layers on his shields the further he went so he wouldn’t leak out and hurt David.

Because this did hurt. Reading that people hated him for something he didn’t ask for, something he never used out of fear of retaliation, it was worse than—well, no, it wasn’t worse than his own mother screaming and throwing things when he first showed signs. But it brought up the same fears, the same self-hatred, and he closed his eyes and tightened his shields so hard he couldn’t feel or hear anything but his own thoughts.

But that took up all his concentration, so that he didn’t notice until David had picked up the manuscript that his own son was less than a foot away. Charles gasped out a tiny, “Don’t--!”

And then he lost his grip on his shields.

They didn’t just drop, they crumbled, until there was nothing between himself and the world—and there was nothing between himself and David, because David’s shields broke too under the pressure of Charles’ mind.

Too much to put into words, images flashing past so fast, fear and anger predominant and wild, so many other people that they seemed to meld together, so much horror Dad Dad DAD!

Physical pain broke the connection. He blinked, and realized his wheelchair had tipped, and he’d hit his head very hard on the wooden floor. David was bending over him, terror pouring out of him, and Charles couldn’t breathe, that terror squeezing him as if it were his own—and beyond David, beyond this house, thousands, millions, billions of minds, bleeding into his own—

Shields, shaky and spun out of pure fear, enclosed on his mind, and he slumped on the floor, panting and dazed.

“Oh god oh god oh god, Dad, Dad, say something, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that, I’m sorry, Dad—“

Charles reached up and David grabbed his hand. “I’m—I’m fine,” he croaked, the biggest lie he’d ever told. “I’m fine, Davey.”

“You are not fine!” David spat, and began to cry. “Why do you keep saying that?! You’re not fine!”

Charles didn’t need to tell him. David had read everything, just as Charles had. It was love, and cowardice, and blind optimism, because if he kept saying it and kept working towards it, surely it would come true. Everything was going to be fine.

He opened his mouth to say this, then thought better of it, and set about calming his mind. It was hard. It was harder than anything he’d ever done before. His heart was still pounding, and his head was beginning to ache. But he managed, somehow. He pushed his own emotions aside, and gently removed those of everyone else, and rebuilt his shield. When he was done, he was exhausted, and David had stopped crying, and was just staring at Charles’ hand, still gripped by both of his own.

“Help me up, please,” Charles murmured.

David scrambled to help him, and when Charles was set straight he stood there in front of Charles and looked at him, his own expression so helpless that Charles couldn’t stop from thinking of that little six year old whose mommy had dropped him off at his daddy’s house and never came back. Phone calls and letters and shipped presents, those weren’t enough for a small child.

Charles held out his arms automatically, but David backed away, shaking his head. So Charles put down his arms.

There was a silence, heavy and uncertain and unhappy. Then David turned and went to his room.

Charles bit his lip and refused to cry for his son.

~

Peter was surprised when David curled up on the wall, hugging his knees and hiding his face, and refused to be goaded, threatened, or entreated into participating. Peter approached cautiously, and slowly sat beside David, not too close. He didn’t want David to lash out. Not that Peter couldn’t avoid him easily, but it was the thought that counted.

“Dude,” Peter said, and David responded.

“Go away,” he croaked, voice cracking.

“No,” Peter responded. But he didn’t say anything else. He just sat there, watching the class, and feeling irritated with the world. At least Dad let him take runs.

He was aware of tiny pushes to go away, to forget David even existed, to leave him alone, but they didn’t feel like his own thoughts, so he ignored them easily. Aunt Emma had taught him plenty about learning what his own thoughts felt like, him and Wanda. Lorna was still learning, but she was getting there.

Peter smirked when the pushes stopped.

~

Wanda had conferred with Peter over lunch, and was therefore prepared when David shuffled in looking like Death warmed over. Wanda was better at sharing thoughts than Peter; when David sat down, Wanda sent him a tiny bit of warmth.

His head snapped around and he gaped at her. She gazed back calmly, and carefully formed the words, Are you properly sorry?

David nodded.

Wanda sent another little bit a warmth and a single word; Good. Then, for good measure, she wrapped her arm around David’s shoulders and gave a quick squeeze before letting go and going back to her worksheet as if nothing had happened.

At the end of class, she heard a soft voice in the back of her head; Thank you.

You’re welcome, she replied.

~

David wondered if the Maximoffs knew what they had done. Probably not.

Dad was still dealing with the assholes who were trying to get him fired. David hadn’t meant to hear the fight Dad had had with some of the other professors yesterday, it had just—it had just happened. He still didn’t know how their walls had broken at the same time, but he knew Dad’s had fallen a split second before that terrifying pressure had cracked David’s shields like a nut.

David had never heard that many voices before. If that’s what Dad had dealt with, what he’d always tried to protect David from—David was glad of his protection. It had been so scary, though, to—to basically be in his own father’s head, to see everything, hear everything, even the dark and private things David had never known about his dad, and then see Dad’s eyes glaze over and his face go blank and he just fell and David had been so scared, hadn’t known what to do—

David sat in his car after school and stared at the steering wheel, shivering, automatically making people look away from him without really thinking about it. He didn’t want to go home. He didn’t want to go anywhere. He wanted to hide in his car all night and in the morning drive away, just—just drive so far away.

Someone tapped on his window.

He jumped and his head snapped up, to see the Maximoff twins standing there, looking grave. Gingerly, he rolled down the window.

“You need help?” Peter asked bluntly.

“No,” David tried to say firmly, but it came out ragged. He could feel determination radiating off them. It made him feel small and weak. Dad had always said he was strong, but—shouldn’t he be able to control himself, if he were strong?

“Yes you do,” Wanda corrected. “Meet us in the gym after school tomorrow, and we’ll have help for you.”

Then they walked away.

David gaped after them. Then, when they had climbed into the van and driven away, he rolled up his window and drove home very carefully.

[imjustthemechanic]

The French Mistake

Part 1/49 - A Visitor Part 2/49 - The Kulturhistorisk Museum Heist Part 3/49 - Cutscene Part 4/49 - The Marvel Cinematic Universe Part 5/49 - Breathless Part 6/49 - Escape at Last Part 7/49 - Fox in Socks Part 8/49 - Things Go Wrong Part 9/49 - Downey and Out Part 10/49 - Road Trip Part 11/49 - Temptation Part 12/49 - An Awful Reunion Part 13/49 - Unreality Intrudes Part 14/49 - A Call for Help Part 15/49 - Loki’s Guests Part 16/49 - Stan Lee Cameo Part 17/49 - Reassessment Part 18/49 - Midnight Invasion Part 19/49 - Elevator Fight Part 20/49 - Courage Part 21/49 - Unwelcome Back Part 22/49 - Darkest Hour Part 23/49 - They Are Here Part 24/49 - The Jet Propulsion Laboratory Part 25/49 - Word of God Part 26/49 - Avengers Assembled Part 27/49 - The Houston Underground Part 28/49 - Houston has a Problem Part 29/49 - Onward and Upward Part 30/49 - The Chi’Tauri Queen Part 31/49 - Through the Wormhole Part 32/49 - Prisoners Part 33/49 - Arm’s Length Part 34/49 - A Moment’s Respite Part 35/49 - Ravagers to the Rescue Part 36/49 - What Happened to Hiddleston Part 37/49 - Haven Part 38/49 - Steve Has a Terrible Idea Part 39/49 - Can’t Be Choosers Part 40/49 - Stan Lee Cameo Redux Part 41/49 - Shipjacking Part 42/49 - The Gauntlet Thrown Part 43/49 - The Queen’s Chamber Part 44/49 - The Guardians Part 45/49 - The Nest Part 46/49 - Heroes Part 47/49 - Homeward Bound Part 48/49 - Loose Ends Part 49/49 - The Return

Not exactly happily ever after, but for the Avengers, it never is.

They stayed at the Space Center overnight, waiting for Natasha to return from California.  Steve was nervous that another shipful of Chi’Tauri would come for them, but none did, and he supposed since they had the tesseract, none could. Still, he knew he wouldn’t sleep well. He wouldn’t sleep well until they were safely back in their own universe.

After having a shower and getting some pajamas on, Steve went down the hall to talk to Thor.  He didn’t have to knock – Bob Downey was there ahead of him, smiling as he handed Thor a plastic shopping bag.

“I got Ghostbusters, Rush, Cabin in the Woods, Star Trek even though he’s only in it for thirty seconds, and I threw in that episode of Australian Dancing with the Stars, just for laughs,” he said.

“Thank you, Robert,” said Thor.  “I’m sure Darcy and Jane will be delighted.”  He looked into the bag, and then pulled out a DVD. “Tinkerbell and the Pirate Fairy?”

Bob grinned.  “Tell them to listen to that one real careful.”  He turned to Steve.  “I brought some for you, too – you’ve heard of the Fantastic Four, right?  They’re a thing in your world?”

“Actually,” Steve said, “I need to have a word with Thor. In private.”

Bob handed Steve another bag and nodded. “Don’t let the fans find out,” he said. “You thought that drawing of you and Bucky was bad!”  He waved goodnight, and walked away with his hands in his pockets, whistling.

Steve stepped into the room and shut the door. Thor was also wearing pajamas – while Steve’s were plain striped ones an employee had loaned him, Thor’s had his own picture on them, airbrushed golden locks streaming in the wind.  “Thor,” Steve said, “remember what Dr. Farinas said at dinner?”

“I do,” Thor said.  “I don’t believe she meant it as a serious suggestion, but she spoke of us leaving the tesseract behind here, for the scientists of this world to use.”

“We can’t, can we?” asked Steve.  He was pretty sure what the answer would be, but he needed to be sure.”

“We could, but there would be no way for us to protect it if somebody came for it again,” Thor replied.  “Besides, admirable as Dr. Farinas’ desire to explore the solar system is, we cannot trust that all her fellows would share it.  If there are no native infinity stones in this universe, the people of this world could create a weapon unlike any other.  No, it is better to have it in our world, where we can keep watch over it.”

“I thought so,” said Steve.

Thor squeezed his shoulder.  “Do not look so unhappy, Captain,” he said.  “We won the day, and we have learned a great deal. Perhaps we may yet prevent the calamity the Watcher warned of.”

What had they learned, Steve wondered.  They’d learned that there was a universe in which the people knew all the worst things the Avengers had ever done, and yet still looked up to them. They’d learned that Thor could wield lightning without Mjolnir, although he hadn’t figured out how.  They’d learned that Spider-Man’s real name was Peter Parker and they’d learned a lot about Chi’Tauri social structure.  Would any of that help them?

They’d learned that Bucky was going to be okay. That helped Steve a lot.

“I guess we’ll have to see,” said Steve.

Two days later, Natasha flew back into Houston without Scarlett, and did not volunteer any information about their meeting with Dauriac.  When Steve asked her how it had gone, she shrugged.

“Could have been worse,” she said, “but it could have been a lot better.  They’re both getting lawyers.”

Steve winced.  “Well, from what Scarlett said, it sounds like it would have ended sooner or later anyway.”

“Yeah, but it didn’t,” said Nat.  “It ended because of me.  I’ve ruined marriages before, but only when I had orders to.”  She shook her head.  “Rosie doesn’t deserve that.”

There was nothing Steve could say to make her feel better about that, so he changed the subject. “Dr. Farinas figured out how to program the Chi’Tauri’s wormhole machine,” he said, “and Thor and Loki refilled the crystal.  So any time you’re ready, we can go home.”

“Oh, good,” she said.  “I’m ready now.”

The people at NASA insisted on throwing them a small goodbye party, with gifts to take home and a small brass band to play what was apparently the theme from the Avengers movies.  Kevin Farinas, Colleen Hobb, and Ellen Ochoa all came to wish them well, as did Donny and Bob – and Hayley Atwell, who Steve was happy to see one more time.  He’d watched her talking to Chris Evans before the actor went to the airport to meet his parents, and she’d given him a hug before he got in the taxi.  Clearly they were good friends, but not lovers.  That was a little disappointing, somehow, but he was glad that some version of himself got to go on knowing her.

When she came to say goodbye to him, he gave her a hug just as Chris had, and smile even as his insides clenched.

“So you managed to save the day without being a self-sacrificing wanker,” she observed as she stepped back.  Was Steve imagining it, or were there tears in the corners of her eyes?

“I did have a couple of self-sacrificing wanker moments,” Steve admitted, “but every time I did, I thought about how disappointed Peggy would have been in me, and found another solution.  So I mostly just ended up being disappointed in myself.  I don’t like thinking I’m a coward.”

“You’re not a coward, Steve, don’t be silly!” said Hayley.  “I’m just glad you’ve figured out you don’t need to destroy yourself to be a hero.  Peggy would be proud of you.”

“Oh, would she?” asked Steve.

“Absolutely,” she assured him.  “She was always proud of you, but she would have been prouder than usual.  I think she’d also want me to give you this,” she added, and stood on her tiptoes to kiss him.

Steve would have protested, but it was the closest he would ever come to kissing Peggy again – and Hayley herself apparently wanted him to think of it that way.  So he just held her against him and let it linger, trying to memorize the feel of her arms around his shoulders and the taste of her lipstick, and finally letting himself enjoy this one tiny bit of a world full of things he wanted but could never have.

“Nice!” said Musa.

Steve and Hayley broke their kiss, and both turned to look at her.  She was smiling.

“I’m cool with threesomes,” she said.  “The more, the merrier, right?”

Hayley shook her head.  “Everything will be fine,” she promised Steve.  “It always is, in the movies.  Just remember that it’s possible to both save the world and live to enjoy it, and I’m sure you’ll do great.”

They climbed back into the Leviathan.  Kevin was in the cockpit, tweaking the wormhole device and fitting some kind of sensor.  She’d showed it to them at breakfast and had told them it would transmit readings of the shape of distorted space-time to her right up until they vanished – Steve hadn’t understood a word of it but he was sure it was important.  She said goodbye again and gave everybody hugs before leaving.  Then at last, with his friends on board – Thor, Loki, Natasha, and Musa – Steve guided the vessel into the air.  He flew a wide circle around Houston and the Gulf coast, gaining altitude, and then touched the circle icon.

Kevin had listed a number of things that might go wrong and had suggestions for dealing with them, but there was one she hadn’t anticipated.  This particular Leviathan had been through a lot in the past few days.  It had been in and out of hyperspace, towed behind the ravager ship.  It had busted through the walls of the space station at Haven and the Chi’Tauri mothership – the latter twice.  It had been picked up and used as a projectile.  It had been shot at by all kinds of weapons, its mouth welded shut, forced through fields it was never supposed to even try to penetrate, and all this on top of being retrofitted for interdimensional travel it was not designed for.  The blue crackle flashed over them, and then with a loud snap, all the displays went out.  Steve barely had time to think oh shit, and then could only hit the deck and cover his head as they plowed into the lawn of the Johnson Space Center.  The antigravity field around the ship collapsed, and the Leviathan, no longer able to sustain its own weight, did likewise.

When things stopped falling apart all around him, Steve spent a moment focusing on his limbs to make sure he didn’t have any major injuries, and then began digging his way out of the wreck.  The roof of the cockpit was layers of armor, wiring, sensors, and hologram projectors, all of which had fallen right on top of the passengers.  He shoved the pieces aside until he reached the surface, where he found that Thor had also turn his way out and was dragging Natasha, bruised and weary, out of a tangle of wire.  People from the buildings around them were already running to see what had happened, but Steve paid no attention to them for now.  He had to find the others.

“Loki!” he shouted.  “Musa!  Can you hear me?”

“Over here!”  A hand popped out of the wreckage.  Steve went and lifted the huge metallic jaws of the Leviathan, which had fallen on top of her, and discovered her trapped between two bulkheads below it. With her pushing from below and him pulling from above, he bent them apart with a sickening metallic noise, and she squirmed out and grabbed him to pull herself to her one good leg.  Not far away, Loki kicked a section of armor plating off himself and shook his leg, as if having the piece on it had cut off the circulation.

Steve breathed a sigh of relief.  They were all okay.

Relief couldn’t last long, though – vehicles were pulling up, people were yelling, and men and women in SWAT uniforms were surrounding them.  The first helicopter that flew over had a news channel’s logo on the side, but the second was military.  Within minutes, there were at least a dozen guns trained on them, and those were just the ones they could see.

Steve sighed again, and raised his hands.

Musa held on to Steve with one arm, but raised the other to show she was unarmed.  “I thought you’d be more popular,” she observed.

“That’s what you get when you run off with a guy you only just met Thursday,” Natasha told her.

Twenty-four hours later, they were in the Raft.

Thor and Loki weren’t with them, of course. Loki had been carrying the tesseract, so Thor had summoned Mjolnir, which must have flown all the way from the museum in Norway to his hand, and then called for the Bifrost.  The two gods vanished in an explosion of coloured light.  But Steve, Natasha, and Musa had all been arrested and were now in separate cells, specially built and reinforced to hold the super-powered.  This was where Clint had ended up, Steve reminded himself. And Sam.  And Scott.

And Wanda.  He should have sent Wanda home.  He could have, and he hadn’t. She would probably have refused to go, but he could have tried.

He was sitting sullenly on his cot, stewing over that, when somebody banged on the bars.  “Hey, Captain,” said a familiar voice.

Steve sat up to look.  The elderly man standing outside was wearing a guard’s uniform, but he had a startlingly familiar face.  “Stan Lee?” he asked, and then corrected himself – wrong universe.  “Watcher?”

“Who, me?” the guard asked, and pointed to his nametag.  “Nah, I’m Officer Smith.”  He winked at Steve.  “You’ve got a visitor.”

“Who?” asked Steve, getting to his feet.  But a moment later he could hear the voice approaching, ranting away.  Something about certainly not expecting him to show up out of nowhere with Romanov and Chiquita Banana…

Steve grinned, then quickly composed himself.  His guest would expect him to look serious… but then Stark sauntered up, wearing an Armani suit over a t-shirt with an iguana in sunglasses on it.  He pulled his glasses down his nose to peer over them, and Steve couldn’t help smiling just a little, because he knew exactly what Stark was about to say.

“Hey, Dorito.”

“Hey, Stark,” said Steve.  “Believe it or not, I’m happy to see you.”

[aion-rsa]

How The Animaniacs Reboot Will Be Both Fresh and Timeless

https://ift.tt/36216Vt

Ever since getting the role of Snow Job in the ’80s GI Joe animated series, Rob Paulsen realized that his future was not in a local rock band or appearing in commercials, but in the realm of voice acting. Through the decades, Paulsen has taken on many iconic roles, such as Raphael from the ’80s Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Donatello from the 2012 reboot, Carl Wheezer from Jimmy Neutron, Mighty Max, Major Glory from Dexter’s Lab, PJ from Goof Troop, Steelbeak from Darkwing Duck, Buck Tuddrussel from Time Squad, and hundreds more.

He’s also a survivor of throat cancer and recently wrote a book about it called Voice Lessons.

Of course, two of his biggest roles that come to mind are Yakko Warner, Pinky, and Dr. Scratchansniff characters from the beloved animated series Animaniacs. Wouldn’t you know it, that series will be coming back this November!

We got an opportunity to talk with Rob about the show’s big return, his book, and what it’s like to be the voice of so many childhoods.

Den of Geek: My first question is about the Animaniacs reboot. So it’s on its way back, which I think we all collectively need right now.

Rob Paulsen: Amen, my friend.

The characters are, by design, timeless. But it’s been a couple decades, so it’s a new show. What is new to the table? What’s being brought in that’s kind of like, “This is the new show.”

Well, it’s… Here’s a little inside baseball. I saw the opening title scene yesterday for the first time. The “It’s time for Animaniacs…” the little song, right?

Never heard of it.

Right. And it’s so cool because it starts out with what everybody knows. You will watch it. As soon as you hear the first downbeat, you’ll go, “Oh my God. I’m 11. I’m 15,” whatever you were. And then it morphs into this appropriate acknowledgement of the zeitgeist, that is to say, the lyrics already tell you right off the bat that we’re in a different time. The lyrics… and it will take people a few times to listen to because we blow through them pretty quick. I’m not going to give it away because I want you to be surprised, but the lyrics in the opening title scene, they let you know that they’re self-aware. They get that the time we’re in is now, and the Animaniacs understand that.

So right away, it, in my view, dispels any fears of them not being hip or getting it. Right away. It’s just, “Okay. Here’s where we are. We know this was a while ago, but here’s… this is the time it is now, and off we go.” And so you already know, and the episodes do not deviate from that. They are appropriately lampooning with currently sacred cows. And it’s a freaking hoot. I was telling folks yesterday that I’m a little bit concerned when things go so well. It’s crazy how humans react. We’re always… And I understand why, because of the nature of what we’re going through. But that show, when we did it, from a clean sheet of paper, turned out to be what you and I are talking about 25 years later and there are, I don’t even know, tens of millions of fans of Animaniacs and Pinky and the Brain. I know how important this is to Spielberg, which alone makes it a big deal.

I’m used to things where whatever you’re working on was a big deal, was a lot of money, lot of music. Well, we got some things back, and they got to tweak them, and they might push the release back. You’re used to that. Doesn’t mean the shows going to be a piece of junk.

We got the first stuff back, and everybody’s flipping out.

“What did Steven say?”

“Oh, he couldn’t stop laughing.”

“Are you kidding?”

“No. Look at the video.”

I mean, it’s just… It’s going SO WELL. Everybody, from Steven on down… And trust me, these guys are spending a lot of money, pal. And so if they want to have their input, and they’re going “Oh, no, no, no, no. I don’t really like the way Yakko’s head looks.” Trust me. They’ll stop you. Because it’s a shit ton of money! Not mine, but you’re talking about spending 60 million or whatever. It’s a lot of money, and so they’re not going to just say-

“Good enough.”

Right? None of that is happening. Everybody gets it. I think it’s because the people who are making it are your age, within a few years, and they know how high the bar is. And they were inspired to do this gig because of Animaniacs and Pinky and the Brain. So now in the studio, I’ve got to tell you, I’ve seen more than once, men and women writers on the show who will come in and be there when we’re recording, and they sort of get tearful because they think, “Oh my God. I wrote those words, and I hear them coming out of Pinky and the Brain.” That blows my mind, and it’s really cool to watch because it just doesn’t get a representation of how seminal this show was to so many people who are now in creative arts. It’s a wonderful thing to be a part of.

We haven’t seen any of the real footage of the show’s return, so in the meantime, can you give us any completely fake spoilers? Stuff that’s absolutely not going to happen on the show?

Yes. It is absolutely not going to happen that Dolly Parton will sing in the opening title.

Crap.

That will not happen. Dolly Parton, as much as a lovely woman she seems to be, has nothing to do with the opening theme song of Animaniacs. I can guarantee you that. Let’s see. I can tell you this, that so far, there don’t appear to be as many of the secondary characters as there were in the original show. The original show is a variety/magazine type show, which is where Pinky and the Brain obviously got their foothold and turned out to be their own franchise. So right now, we don’t have Rita and Runt, Mindy and Buttons, Katie Ka-Boom, all those other secondary characters. But there are new ones and other ones.

The ethos that Mr. Spielberg and Tom Ruegger created 25 years ago remains, and that is that Yakko, Wakko, and Dot are the ringleaders. Pinky and the Brain, one could argue, could have their own show without Yakko, Wakko, and Dot. They’re a big deal on their own. And so it wouldn’t have made sense to exclude Pinky and the Brain and Yakko, Wakko, and Dot. In other words, they couldn’t redo the whole thing and say, “We’re going to have Gakko, Kakko, and Smakko,” or whatever. It had to be Yakko, Wakko, and Dot. And frankly, it had to be all three voice actors according to Steven because this is Hollywood, and often in animated shows, you’ll see now that they’ll bring in celebrity talent for their celebrity.

And I mean, I’m an old dog in Hollywood. I know how celebrity works. I accept it. All of that. But it is yet another testament to the experience and the heart of a guy like Steven Spielberg who literally can call any actor in the world and say, “We’re redoing Animaniacs.”

“Oh God, I love that show.”

“Yeah. Me too. We just thought that Liam Neeson should be—”

Hahahaha! Oh God. Can you in the Yakko voice say the line, “I have certain skills…”

(Yakko voice) “Oh, yeah. I have certain skills. Yeah, that’s right. I have… ‘certain’ ‘skills’.”

But you see my point. You’re laughing about it, and it’s true. We laugh about it all the time. Check this out. Maurice’s take on it, because he’s been having dreams at night, because there had been rumors for a reboot for a couple years before it happened. And it’s Hollywood. Shit happens and does happen all the time. And so Maurice said, “My worst fear is that they’re going to hire Peter Dinklage as the Brain and Russell Brand as Pinky.”

*cracks up*

Yeah. And I did what you’re doing. I couldn’t stop laughing. I just thought, (Pinky voice) “Egad! You really are a short fellow!”

I’m just imagining the two of them doing live-action cosplay.

Oh, yeah. Right?! No kidding! It’d be fantastic! But again– Isn’t it great that all we’re talking about is making us laugh? That the bottom line is that the unchallenged King of Hollywood chose, and he said it was never a question, never a question of, “How can we make this here work? Should we hire…” I don’t know, give me a famous young female popstar, “to be the voice of Dot. Cross-promote. She’s already got eight million Twitter followers.” All that stuff. That never entered into the equation. It was all about the reason these characters are beloved is for many reasons, and not the least of which are the actors who all can still do it at the same level, and they want to. And so, okay, that’s taken care of. That’s a big deal. Do you know what I mean?

That in and of itself tells you a lot about how important Steven views this property because it was not about who can sell the most merchandise, who’s got the most Twitter followers. It was about this show is a show that’s successful for its own sake. You’re talking to 50% of the Ninja Turtles, pal. I know all about action figures. And I’m very proud of that show still. It will go on and inspire artists for decades to come. But Animaniacs is not about that. And when you have a piece of art for the sake of the art, and Mr. Spielberg utterly gets that, it’s being done for the right reasons. Obviously, there’ll be merchandise. Great. But it’s not about who’s famous enough to bring 10 million extra followers to the show. It’s not about that. And I’m so proud of the whole experience, man. It’s really something.

So “Yakko’s World” is a “Stairway to Heaven” of Animaniacs songs.

Right. And I’ve used that line my own self. You’ve got excellent taste. That’s exactly what I say. When we do Animaniacs Live with orchestras and stuff around the country, it’s just incredible. Really fun.

Around where I live, there’s a rock station that always does the best classic rock songs, but the joke is, “We all know what number one is.”

Right. It’s got to be “Stairway.” It’s got to be. Yeah. And so I tell people all the time, it’s like, “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you very much. It’s been a wonderful evening, and before we finish tonight, we just want to let you know that to the extent that you spent this money and waited an hour and a half for this song, here’s our ‘Stairway to Heaven.’” Everybody flips out, and it’s fantastic. And that song… And again, I’m good at my job, but in Hollywood, you could throw a dart and hit a good singer. They may not like getting hit with a dart, but you see my point. I’m really good at my job, but Jesus Christ, I ought to be. I’ve been doing it for 40 years. But what you cannot do in Hollywood or New York or Nashville is hit someone who could write that type of music over and over and over again. And Randy Rogel is a uniquely gifted individual and profoundly overachieving. I mean, the guy is… He’s a West Point grad. He’s a graduate of Boston University. He was a huge success in corporate American. Then he thought, “No. I’m really about music and comedy,” and got a gig on Batman: The Animated Series and won an Emmy. And then he heard about this fun cartoon music show called Animaniacs. He banged on that door. And check this out:

Read more

TV

Animaniacs Reboot Hulu Release Date Set for November, Season 2 Confirmed for 2021

By Joseph Baxter

TV

Pinky and the Brain, Tiny Toon Adventures, and Animaniacs Come To Hulu

By Shamus Kelley

His audition piece to get the gig on Animaniacs, which ultimately won him three more Emmy’s because he’d already won one on Batman… But the song that he wrote and he had in his back pocket to get him the gig was “Yakko’s World.” Now, that’s pretty freaking remarkable, that you’re going like, “Wait a minute. This is where we’re STARTING? This is what you got to say what do you think?” That’s just outrageous. And he has not disappointed. He’s written a bunch of new songs for the new show. But I have to tell you that every single time we do “Yakko’s World,” it gets a standing ovation. And people have heard it. I mean I can do it backwards and forwards and all that. But I’ve don’t it a zillion times. And it’s not… Randy and I are the ones getting the accolades. It’s very wonderful, but it’s not about us. And we know that. It’s that fucking song. It’s so wonderful and so unique and it’s just a privilege to be able to perform it. It’s wonderful.

But what’s the second place? What’s you’re second favorite of all of all time?

Favorite of Randy’s? Oh God. That’s a tough call. But we do, in the show, the live show, we do probably 20 songs, 25 songs including songs that didn’t make it and a bunch of songs from a follow-up show with that crew called Histeria!. There was some brilliant songs in that. But my second favorite I think has to be… Well, there are two that really come to mind. One is called “I’m Mad” in which Yakko, Wakko, and Dot go on a day trip with Dr. Scratchansniff, who I also played that character as well. And the kids get into a fight in the car, and it’s a really wonderful song and an excellent cartoon pattern, back and forth. It’s just great. I love “I’m Mad.”

And also, Randy wrote a song. He was charged with responsibility of trying to teach young folks the concept of time, and he wrote a song called “When You’re Traveling from Nantucket.” And I love that song. Just a little bit of it goes,

“When you’re traveling from Nantucket through Chicago to St. Paul, And you’re standing at an airport and you look upon the wall, There’s a clock for every city and a different time for all, From Asia through Malaysia to Peru. Did you ever wonder why that when it’s six o’clock in Maine, At precisely the same moment it is eight AM in Spain? When it’s breakfast time in Rome, they’re having lunch in the Ukraine, And it’s supper up in upper Kathmandu. If the Earth is spinning faster while the sun is moving past her, then a day might only be an hour long. And school, when they begin it, would only last a minute, and everybody’d have to run along. If the Earth were the planet that was closest to the sun, A year would be much shorter, and you’d have a lot of fun. Because the time you’re in first grade, you’d be over 21, And you’d live to be 903 or 4.”

I mean, that’s genius!

I think I just went cross-eyed right there…

Right? And what he’s saying is true. But it’s presented in such a way that it’s whimsical, it’s entertaining, it’s a little mind-blowing. It makes you go, “Whoa, whoa, wait, what?” And it’s all true because it’s all physics. It’s all science. We know that all of that stuff is true. We just look at a clock. But he explains in two minutes and change about the concept of why that works.

He says,

“The international date line is an imaginary cleft. Today is on the right side, tomorrow on the left. So when you cross it, do you then arrive the day before you left? That’s how it’d work. It’s quite berserk, you see? So if you were born in China, while I’m born in Carolina, Then you’re ahead of me, you see? But the way I’ve got it reckoned, if we’re born in the same second, Then why should you be a day older than me?”

And it’s exactly the sort of thing that you go how does he… What the… Wow. Wait a minute. I’m going to Australia, and it’s tomorrow? What? So that’s my second favorite song for precisely the same rambling reason I gave you. I know I have a tendency to talk too much, but hell, I’m Yakko, so that’s what I do.

About a year ago, you released your autobiography Voice Lessons where you discuss some of your biggest roles, your bout with throat cancer, Bob Seger being awesome, Mel Brooks being less than awesome, and so on. What was the impetus that made you want to write the book?

Thank you for asking and mentioning the book. It was a big deal for me.

I had had many very well meaning fans, very kind, generous fans say to me, “Dude, you should write a book,” kind of in the same thing of what you were so kind to say at the beginning of our chat, my prodigious IMDB page, whatever. Well, look at Frank Welker’s, look at Maurice’s, look at Tress MacNeille. Jesus. All of them. Danny Castellaneta, Hank Azaria, all of us, because of animation can knock out two or three episodes in a day, and after 20, 30 years, it looks a lot more impressive than it is. Nonetheless, I had a lot of characters in my wheelhouse that had a profound effect on millions of people. And I started to meet these fans, and they were very kindly suggesting, “Oh my God, Mr. Paulsen. You really should write a book.” And I accepted the compliment and the spirit in which it was delivered, and I’m very grateful. But I honest to God…

Look, I’ve grown up in Hollywood. I was 22 when I moved here. And I understand celebrity, and I understand the relative nature of celebrity and it’s power. But again, like I said, I didn’t really understand the power of the characters because I’m not recognized walking down the street. Now, I get it. But in those days, this is probably 8, 10 years ago, I said, “Man, that’s really sweet, but the last thing the world needs is another celebrity memoir from a non-celebrity.” And it’s not false modesty. I am not Brad Pitt. I am not George Clooney. I am not George Hamilton. I’m Rob Paulsen. I’m good at my job, but the characters are famous. I don’t draw them. I don’t write them. And I could never do that. It is a deeply collaborative effort that makes me come across like a freaking rockstar. So there was no reason for me to write a self-aggrandizing book. My ego doesn’t work that way.

BUT, a big giant but, then I got throat cancer. And while I never freaked out, I never said, “Oh my God! I have throat cancer! I’m a voice actor! Why couldn’t it be hair cancer?!” I didn’t do that because what I had learned in the interim between when nice people said I should write a book and my cancer was, as I had mentioned, the extent to which these characters have. Their words sometimes saved their lives. Their words. Over and over again. That’s at the… the most powerful end. At the very least, it’s, “You have no idea how much joy this brought to me and my father,” or, “I didn’t get along with my dad on anything. In fact, we hated each other. Then he introduced me to Pinky and the Brain, and we bonded. My dad passed away a year ago. I’m fine with it. But you have got to know…” Okay. So all that stuff, and it was countless times that it happened.

And when I got diagnosed with throat cancer and people found out after the fact, because my wife and I didn’t put it out there. We didn’t want sympathy, we didn’t need… I was 59 years old when I was diagnosed. Even if the doctors had said, “Dude, you’re on your way out. You better go home and get your shit in order,” I had nothing, nothing about which to be sad. Nothing. But what happened was, I made it. The treatment was absolutely brutal for obvious reasons. Mouth, throat, can’t eat, can’t swallow. It’s rough. It is for everybody. But you know what? It’s not as rough as your eight year old boy not making it through leukemia or your six year old girl who talked to Pinky and then six days later, parents call and say, “Tiffany passed away, but thank God she got to talk to Pinky.” And that stuff happens all the time. All the time. I have boxes of letters that are personally just unbelievable compelling.

That is the story, that my experience with throat cancer taught me through these characters and hundreds of children that Yakko, Raphael, Donatello, Carl, you name it have spoken to. And we all do it, not just me. But in my case, I had a very unique cancer because of what I do. And that story was powerful because not only did I make it through, but I learned the real power of those characters. They helped me get through THE most difficult year of my life. I mean, it was rough. But the people out there whose children passed away years before I got my cancer, they got ahold of me and said, “Hey, here’s the last picture of you talking to Jordan before he died of lung disease. Remember this? We heard about your struggle, Mr. Paulsen. Please know how much those characters meant to our son who’s been gone now for 10 years. But we have this picture on our wall, and it’s you talking to him. And you probably don’t remember.” And often I didn’t.

But they sought me out to tell me how powerful these characters were. Then I thought, now the book is worth it. I’m not going to sell a million copies of that book. Doesn’t matter. It was an appropriate thing to do, and it’s a clear example and a compendium of how powerful joy is, how powerful laughter is, and that courage, empathy, kindness, joy, laughter, like love, often come from the most unexpected places. And in my case, it was from a bunch of freaking cartoon characters that people say saved their lives in some respects or made their children’s deaths more tolerable. And if they say that to me, it’s got to be the same for Kevin Conroy. It’s got to be the same for Mark Hamill. It’s got to be the same for Maurice, Tom Kenny. So that’s what this was about. It’s just, I’ve learned so much about all of them from these parents and their children. And that’s why the book is important to me.

Well, for the last question, going back to the book, I want to take something from it and just kind of flip it around back at you. You got to work with Russell Johnson, the Professor from Gilligan’s Island. And the question you asked him is the question I’m going to ask you right now:

What’s it like to be part of television history?

Oh, bless your heart. It is a bigger privilege than I could have ever imagined. Thank you very much, firstly, for suggesting that I am. And I’m not going to be so coy and so silly as to suggest that I am not because I am. And it doesn’t have to be… It’s one of those things. I am. When you’ve done this much work, you are, like it or not. I love it because it means that I’ve fulfilled my dream. I’ve made it. I’ve been rich, and I’ve been poor. Rich is better. I am not independently wealthy. I am still going to try to make as much money as I can. But if I die at this moment, apart from the fact that it would be inconvenient for you and probably leave my car stranded in the middle of the street, I’ve made it. I’ve done what I set out to do. And I don’t have a star on the Walk of Fame. I don’t have an Oscar. I have an Emmy and a couple of Peabody’s and a bunch of other things, and I’m very proud of those. But I really do know, especially because I’m not a celebrity, that that is not what it’s about. The Emmy and five bucks will get you a Frappuccino. I’m not going to give it back, but it’s not about that. It’s about the relationships. It’s about the characters, their timelessness.

Russell Johnson, I don’t know if it’s in the book because I frankly don’t remember, but what Mr. Johnson told me when I… I asked him that question. You’re right. And he could not have been more gracious, though he’d probably been asked a zillion times. I mean, Jesus Christ. He’s the freaking Professor! And you don’t even have to qualify him. You go, “The Professor? Oh, yeah. Gilligan’s Island. Okay.” Pop culture icon. And he said essentially the same thing I’m saying, “You know. Didn’t make a lot of money on the show. I made 1500 bucks a week at the top of the show.” Now, 1500 bucks a week in the 60s was a good living, but not even close to… Okay.

But he said, “You know what, Rob? My wife and I had a six weeks tour of Europe, and even when we were staying at monasteries with brothers who were almost sworn to silence, celibacy and silence, every single person knew who I was. And every single time, they wanted to hug me, embrace me, show me that they once dressed up like the Professor for Halloween.” And he said, “I don’t even… When I’m dead, that will still be going on.” And he’s right. Gilligan’s Island is playing all over the world.

And when I’m dead and gone, hopefully a little later because I’m definitely closer to the end than the beginning, but because of my incredible good fortune, working with the best of the best… All of them, by the way, are lovely people. That’s what this is about. The joy of the people to create joy that translates to hundreds of millions of others is what it’s all about. We were paid well, and that’s all true. But you spend the money, and ultimately, as they say, you can’t take it with you. And what I’m leaving behind, and what all these… Seriously. I’m dead freaking serious. I would have to work really hard to come up with one person who you would know and their work, who is anything but not only professional but just delightful, including celebrities with whom I know with work and know very well. Really nice, nice, nice people. That’s what it’s about. Nice people, talented people with the best of the best.

And I got to work with Steven… Now, this my sixth time. And as a result of all of that, my legacy is nothing but joy. Period. How much better can one’s life be? I don’t know. Maybe things will change, but I’m not going to be able to write a check for eight million bucks to open a hospital wing. But I don’t need to. I got paid to do what used to get me in trouble in high school, and after 40 years of it, and maybe another 10 or 12 to go, I will have fulfilled my dream way, way, way more than I ever could have imagined. And when I’m dust, you will be talking to maybe you’re grandkids, “I talked to, oh what was his name? Ron? Ron Paulmen? Yeah. He seemed like a pretty decent guy. He didn’t shut up for a whole freaking hour, but he seemed like a decent guy. Oh, yeah. Oh my God. This is the second version of Pinky and the Brain. Yeah this is from 2021. Yeah check this out.” And that’s what it’ll be. Bugs is 80 years old, and people still love Bugs. So anyway. That’s my story, and I sadly am not able to be more concise. But I hope you understand how much I appreciate my circumstances, moreover, nice people like you giving me so much time to talk about it.

It’s been nothing but a pleasure.

Thank you, buddy.

And that was a hell of an answer.

Thank you. It’s the freaking truth. It happens every day. Every day. Now it’s because I’m wearing a mask that a fan might have made for me of Ninja Turtles or Raphael or whatever. I’ve got a bunch of them, and they’re really sending them to me. So I’ll wear a mask. I had an Animaniacs one on the other day at Trader Joe’s. And a person said, “Oh my God. I love your mask. Where did you buy that?” And I explained what I did, who I was. The blood drained out of the guy’s face. He said, “Are you kidding me?” He said, “Wait a minute. Are you Rob?”

And I said, (Yakko voice) “Yes I am. Here’s my driver’s license.” And the guy started shaking. I mean, it was… You would have thought he met one of the Beatles. But it was just happy. It was just joy.

And I know he’s going to call his buddies, and it’s going to be, “Oh my God. This old guy walked into and he’s got gray hair, but as soon as he said, (Pinky voice) ‘Egad! Poit! Narf!’ it didn’t matter!”

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

And that’s what this is about.

The post How The Animaniacs Reboot Will Be Both Fresh and Timeless appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/32UKhKk

[littleredchucks]

@agarlandoffreshlycuttears another for you, because I felt badly for doing the others and not this one, and you were so kind in your review of this fic. So here I go with a Boosh and Prejudice commentary:

“You would have me as your guest? For as long as I chose?” Vince felt his chest constrict painfully at the possibility of Howard’s proposal. The emotions pouring forth from his heart were threatening to flood him completely and he needed something to cling to before he was swept away entirely. He moved until he and Howard were facing one another, his hands resting on Howard’s arms, taking comfort in the other man’s solid presence.

(The word ‘proposal’ was really important to me here. I’m a sucker for romance and proposals and engagements and when I wrote this marriage equality seemed so very far off and so I wanted to give Vince the closest I could to a proper Regency romance proposal.

And I think I spent rather a long time trying to ensure that the metaphor of this paragraph was constant but not overworked. I’m not sure I succeeded. Vince mentions in other chapters how he isn’t used to crying so much, or having his emotions upset him so entirely and so I liked the image of his emotions now being like a flood, all those tears bursting forth, and how Howard is so solid and the only thing he can cling to in such a moment.

“I would have you live with me, in my home, for as long as you chose,” Howard spoke, his voice rough as he fought against his own torrent of emotion.

Vince gave a short laugh, one of disbelief and joy, confusion and just a touch of panic. He leaned his head toward Howard, wanting to show his delight and agreement with a kiss, and took a step forward to enter his embrace.

(This is Vince throwing all fear to the winds. He is going to show his love out in the open. The outdoors was also really important to me in this fic. Leaving the drawing room behind, so to speak. When they’re outside they seem better able to show their love, but it is usually among trees or in the garden, in the early morning or at night, away from the trappings of the houses and society but still hidden. Here they are right out in the open, and being open is what Vince has wanted from the start, and so this gesture by Howard is so important to him.

“Aargh!”

“Vince!?”

Howard caught the younger man as he fell, the pain of taking his weight so suddenly on his twisted ankle having sent him into a faint.

“Vince? Vince, was that a yes?” Howard whispered, unsure of why he felt the need to speak in hushed tones.

He gave the man a light shake but Vince’s head merely moved about like that of a small girl’s rag doll and he remained unconscious.

“Oh dear,” was all Howard could think to say.

(Comedy was needed. It was all too sincere and happy. Howard doesn’t get any happy without a fight and I’m not done with either of them yet. Also, it’s a call back as previously Vince has asserted that he isn’t a young lady prone to faints and sprained ankles, yet there he goes. I like making Howard do those little expressions of ‘oh dear’. Short and to the point, biggest understatement of the Regency period. And at this point there is actually a chapter break I think, because I thought it the best way to end that scene. Tiny bit of comedy, tiny bit of drama.

The arrival of Vince, unconscious and in the arms of Mr Darcy, at the Bennet home, caused a significant stir. Mrs Bennet shrieked and burst into tears, telling anyone who would listen that she had been against Vince going shooting from the very beginning and had known that some evil or other would befall him. Mary and Jane meanwhile escorted Mr Darcy to the sitting room where Vince was placed carefully and lovingly on the sofa. Mr Darcy insisted on removing Vince’s boots and elevating the injured ankle - which was dreadfully swollen - on a cushion.

(Mrs Bennet is so very much my step-mother. Oh so much. In the original P&P too. And she infuriates me. Because we all know she was the one who basically bullied Vince in to go out to the shooting that day, which led to him twisting his ankle, but she lives entirely in her own world and is always the one wronged, never the other way around. But she’s also a fabulous character and I basically lifted her straight from the original and barely tweaked her. Jane and Mary are very much the real ladies of the house, and do what needs to be done. Gosh but I love them. And I felt it necessary to show that Vince isn’t really over reacting, he really did hurt his ankle. Oh, and that Howard’s actions are so obviously loving and caring, the way he carries Vince, lays him down, removes the boot, and rests it on a cushion. Even when Howard is awkward with words, awkward under the scrutiny of others, his genuine actions are full of love and adoration.

“Thank you, Mr Darcy,” Mary said reassuringly as he hovered about his unconscious charge.

“Yes, thank you,” echoed Jane. “He shall be quite alright, we assure you.”

“It is true,” Mary smiled. “He cut himself with the scissors a few years ago and fainted from the pain and the sight of his own blood and remained completely insensible for two hours.”

(Can I go off script for a bit to talk about Mary and Jane? So many interpretations portray Jane a vapid or lacking in substance and that really bothers me, it’s the same way people treat Hero in ‘Much Ado About Nothing’ but they are characters with so much potential, and so is Mary, yet she is so often portrayed as sour and dowdy. The 2005 P&P is kinder on Mary, showing her as young and awkward but kind, but in my mind Mary Bennet has been on so many adventures and lived Such a life! I love her very dearly. And something I wanted to do with this story was to play around with the expectations made of the characters. Elizabeth Bennet is quite proud of how un-accomplished she is; she can’t play piano well or paint or do the things ladies are supposed to in order to win a husband. So I gave those things to Vince, because really they fit with his character. And to Jane I gave Elizabeth’s sensible side and to both her and Mary I gave Elizabeth’s wit and intelligence because it shouldn’t be just the heroine/hero who has such traits. And I didn’t want to erase Elizabeth from the story, so I gave her essence to her sisters. Really, once I let Mary and Jane lose in my mind it was so easy just to let them chat and tease and act like regular sisters.

Howard nodded uncomfortably, looking once more at Vince. He had a sudden fear that he would wake up with no memory of their conversation, or worse, would come to his senses and assert a desire to never lay eyes upon Howard again. Howard felt panic begin to well up within him. He needed some way of assuring Vince of his devotion whilst not being actually present when he awoke and, he realised, he would need to act swiftly, as the two eldest Miss Bennets were beginning to wonder at his lack of response. At which point his gaze happened to fall upon the writing desk in the corner and the paper thereon.

“Might I,” he stuttered. “Might I borrow paper and a pen?”

“Yes, certainly,” Jane said, her brow creasing in confusion. “But you are welcome to stay.”

“No, no, I... must retrieve our rifles, and assure the rest of our party that Vince is taken care of.”

(Howard will always, without fail, assume the worst. As if Vince, who has been gazing at him adoringly for fifty whole chapters at this point. But really he knows he’s no good at confessing his feelings. He’s liable to say something wrong or lose confidence or worse, and so he wants to find a way of expressing himself without letting himself get in the way. And his excuse is such an obvious lie, bless him. I expect he was intimidated by Jane and Mary, because he’s not great with people he doesn’t know well.

Gosh I liked writing this. I think I basically wrote a chapter a day. They aren’t long chapters but still. I liked the way Howard and Vince transferred so well in to that world and I loved fleshing out Mary and Jane Charlotte and Mr Bennet especially. I’m not so good at the comedy though, it’s all rather sincere and heartfelt, which is probably where it falls short most. But it was fun to write.

[mubal4]

The Journal Journey Part 18

 Writing is a challenging endeavor.  I made a commitment last year to write, three days a week and hit publish.  I try hard to honor this and, for the most part, I have been executing well.  There are weeks that just get the better of me and I may only do two days, but I still am staying consistent in getting my work out there.  There are days that I draw a blank and am unable to come up with a topic.  Typically, it is just my mind racing in other directions I am not willing to sit down and contemplate something or, nothing is tugging at me.  Last year, I was able to create this Journal Journey to help me, not only find topics to share, but also allow me to reflect on where my mind was when I first began writing at the beginning of 2017.  It is great to see the quotes and thoughts that were on my mind, or the lessons I was learning at certain times in the past and to have them come up to the surface again.  It is also interesting to see how my perspective may have changed over the course of 12-18 months.  Yesterday and today have been more unpredictable as usual and I wasn’t sure how things were going to go so I haven’t had much time to put thought into a blog post. Therefore, I am reverting to my growth journal to share some thoughts from almost two years to the day, January 28, 2017.  For me, I think it is still good, even though I am calling on this practice to come up with ideas, to still get something out there and stay consistent with the actual writing.  No matter the content, topic, or message, for me it is beneficial, and my intent is that it is for you too.

 On we go!

 -          “Position of Discipline – What is the message I am sending here? I will judge and punish you? Or I will help you think and learn?” – Carol Dweck – This is from Carol Dweck’s book, “Grit.” Great read and suggest you give a whirl.  I believe this can be used in so many contexts.  As a leader, mentor, manager, etc.  I see it, or, it hit me as a parent.   An area where I believe I need to improve is around the discipline of my daughters.  I think we do a good job, for the most part. Our girls are great, and it is very rare that I feel the need to “discipline” them.  I was going to say, “correct them, yes,” but I stopped because I don’t think that is appropriate either.  What is correct behavior for us may not be for them.  I mean, obvious stuff right, don’t push a lady into traffic is not the right behavior, but I am thinking in more gray areas.  Offering wisdom and guidance is what I am speaking about.  Where I need the improvement is in my delivery.  Kids will screw up and they will frustrate us as parents, and I have a tendency to let that frustration show in my tone.  A few weeks ago, we had this conversation as a family and my girls shared with me, this area, as one where I can improve.  I think, just based on tone, one can perceive the message you are sending, or, the wisdom you are trying to share, as judgement/discipline or as an opportunity to think and learn.  I think with discipline and judgement we are trying to control the situation.  With offering the ability for them to think and learn, we are giving control over to them to make the decisions.  If gives them the ability to be creative, to grow, to fail, to get uncomfortable.  We begin to give them some independence and I think it creates a level of trust between the parent and child.  In turn, it may give them more confidence and self-esteem, and certainly more self-awareness.  

-          “The body has limitations.  The mind does not.” – I’ve heard this said by many throughout the years and have experienced it personally.  That said, I am surprised sometimes on how far we can push our bodies.  But, does that have to do with our body, or our mind. There was a dude that I had the opportunity to spend some time with during an event that liked to say, “you’ll pass out before you die.” I think that has some relevancy here because, at least I think with our bodies, when we reach a limit physically, our body will just give out. I see this with my body and when it doesn’t feel right because of tweaks, soreness, injury.  As I’ve gotten older, I have gotten better at listening to these messages; still have work to do there as well but progress.  However, there are those moments when, you think your body can’t go another step, you feel you are spent, and your mind is willing you to keep moving forward. This can be in any type of endeavor; I am not just talking about a physical activity like running!!  Is this what this message above is referring to?  I think it has some play there because, the reason we do quit, at least in my opinion, is because of those demon thoughts that enter our mind telling us to stop, stay in bed, it’s too cold out, etc.  Our body, with its limitations, listens to our mind. However, just as easy as it is to listen to those thoughts, our mind makes it easy to talk to ourselves too; to tell us to get out of bed, get active, and get moving.  We can dig into this deeper as well.  I am 5’6” – I was okay all my life knowing I wasn’t going into the NBA 😊.  In that respect, my body had limitations. However, my mind would have let me create that dream and visualize it if I wanted it.  Our mind affords us the ability to create big dreams, but our body sometimes prevents us from acting on those dreams.  Or, IS IT our mind that is preventing us?

-          “We have all been given a gift to share with the world.  It is up to us to figure it out.” – I truly believe this and am experiencing it each day.  I’ve shared this story with you all and it is something that I have been fortunate to find out.  It took me about 40 years to figure out what my gift was, and it is to provide my girls, and others, the tools, skills and knowledge to live joyful and fulfilled lives while positively impacting the world.  These are the skills that I have been able to learn through failure, mistakes, growth, learning, asking, and living.  For me, being able to share my gift, writing in this blog, producing the podcasts, and connecting with people every day, provides me with joy and fulfillment.  This was what I was given by God, and my gift to Him is to share it.  That is what, at least I believe, is our purpose, to share our gift, our story, with the world.  How many of us go to the grave without sharing our gift?  How many of us don’t ever realize what our gift was? How many don’t believe they have one? We all do, and we just have to find it. It took me a long time to realize it and many moments of being incredibly uncomfortable. I had to ask myself some tough questions about myself, my life, my family, and what I really deemed as what was important to me.  What was I willing to give up and let go of? What really brought me joy and fulfillment.  What of those challenges is, understanding that, whatever the gift is, it is YOUR GIFT and you must not give a damn about what others think of it? Share it and be proud of it.

-          “The point at which change happens starts with a decision.” – I would go a bit further on this and say action, but I guess you are making that decision to take action. You want to change something in your life that you are not happy with?  Make the decision to take action and do it.  I had this thought yesterday as I was walking around my house.  Our shower, which is a walk-in separate from the bath, leaks a bit from the one part of the door.  It is not a big leak but, if you are in the shower long enough, it is noticeable on the floor.  I replaced the seal and it helped but hasn’t completely eliminated the leak.  When I thought about this the other day, I realized that this circumstance hasn’t become intolerable for me to make that decision to really fix it.  I believe once a situation becomes intolerable, that is when we make the decision to change.  We have thoughts of changing something all the time; we want things to be better, easier, etc.  But, are we willing to invest the time and effort to take that action?  Most of the time, that change would be “a nice to have,” therefore, we don’t feel the need to take the action.  However, when shit becomes intolerable, that is when we get our assess in motion.  

-          “The purpose of the goal isn’t achievement of the goal but who we become during the process.” – I’ve heard this often and shared it many times as well.  I believe it to be incredibly true.  NOW!!  Up until a few short years ago, I was all about the achievement.  That achievement was what determined who I was; what I was. Then I realized that when I got the “achievement,” yeah, I may have felt “special” for a moment, but that moment was fleeting.  It didn’t last.  However, when I began reflecting on what I had to do to get to that achievement, what I learned through that process, and who I became; or, how I became different, changed!!! That is what caught my attention. Our culture sells the glory and winning! The big reward at the end of the road.  But the real story is in the journey to get there.  The hours and hours of working on your craft.  The stuff that is not sexy; going to bed late, waking up early, getting the nasty, gritty shit down when you don’t want to do it.  Sacrificing time with your family, risking what is comfortable and easy, doing those things that so many others are not willing to do. It sucks sometimes.  It hurts.  It is exhausting, and, you are going to question why?  But you were given that gift, and this is all part of that journey to identify that gift.  To share it with the world.  To make that impact. To make yourself, and this place, a little bit better than how we found it!!