#I'd watched the first ten minutes a few years ago and gave up because it seemed cheesy

[inkbee]

NOT THE TEMPLARS. ANYTHING BUT THE TEMPLARS PLEASE GOD

[bella-rose29]

Happy New Year - Anthony Lockwood x fem!reader

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: barely proof read (I vaguely looked over it once) and mentions of alcohol consumption

felt like writing this (it's totally not to sweeten you all up for when I post deck the halls part 5 tomorrow whaaat that would be ridiculous I would never do that... 👀)

Tag list (i think this is everyone but idk anything anymore): @anathemaloren, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @light-23, @locknco, @mentallyillsodapop, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @ran23sblog, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife

"Right, we've got just over an hour before midnight and George has got the telly all set up for the fireworks display. Holly said she'd be here in about ten minutes and Kipps is coming with her, I'm not entirely sure where Lucy and Norrie are which I should probably be more concerned about, and I think that's everything. Is Flo coming do you know? Because I know George said she hadn't decided yet but-"

"Lockwood?"

"Yeah?"

"Why don't you sit down? You seem very stressed," Y/n said, smiling at him from behind her mug of tea while she sat in the kitchen, watching Lockwood pace around the table. It was definitely way past her normal bedtime, but Lockwood had seemed so excited about seeing the New Year in with them all that she couldn't exactly say no to him, especially not when he'd given her a small smile filled with hope that she would say yes to spending the evening with him.

That and they'd tested out the speakers earlier, and she would never have been able to sleep with the music as loud as it currently was.

"I am hosting, Y/n/n. I'm meant to be stressed; it's part of the job."

"Well," she started, getting out of her chair and wincing when her bones clicked. She picked up the mug that Lockwood had abandoned on the table and moved over to where he had stopped his pacing. "I think you're meant to drink your tea and have a biscuit. Then everything will be better, yeah?"

"Alright, if that's what the doctor orders," he smiled as he took the mug out of her hand, and she felt her heart stutter in her chest at the sight. She'd had a crush on Anthony Lockwood since she first met him a few years ago in a café, both him and his company and her Fittes team winding down after their jobs and grabbing a cup of tea before heading out into the cold again. Then she'd quit her job at Fittes because they stopped giving her work and she couldn't afford the rent, and she'd noticed an ad in the paper for agents to join the psychical agency Lockwood and Co, and she'd been met with the pretty boy from the café again. He'd welcomed her instantly, made her feel at home and gave her a place to live, and over the next couple of years her feelings only grew.

Now they were 18 years old, soon to be celebrating the New Year in 35 Portland Row together, and he was smiling at her like she was the sun.

"Don't tell George about the biscuits though, yeah?" he whispered, leaning in as though it were the sort of secret that could never be told. She nodded, snorting at his mock seriousness.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"Good. Can't have you on your own, can we?"

"I wouldn't be alone, Lockwood. I'd have Lucy, and Holly, and George." She frowned a little, considering something. "Although maybe not George if he's killed you. I don't really want to be friends with murderers to be honest." Lockwood let out a laugh, and Y/n couldn't help but grin back at him when his joy was so infectious.

"No, I don't suppose that would be very good, would it?" He chuckled to himself for a moment or so, sipping his tea and munching on a biscuit. "I'm not much looking forward to being the only one not getting a kiss at midnight though."

It surprised her that he'd brought up the topic, since Lockwood had never really shown much interest in that sort of thing before. "Kipps'll probably be on his own too, although I'm not sure you'll be able to convince him to give you a smooch. I'm not kissing anyone either, if that helps."

"I think I'd rather kiss George's underwear than Kipps. You're not even going to kiss Lucy? I thought you two said you would," he asked, attempting to sound disinterested in the whole subject.

"Yeah, well now that she's got Norrie here they're gonna kiss instead, so I'm on my own. And I would also rather kiss George's pants than Kipps."

"Ah."

"Hmm." They drank the remainder of their tea in silence, the music from the speakers that George had set up streaming in despite being muffled through the closed kitchen door. "You know, I haven't even had my first kiss yet."

Lockwood looked at her, surprise all over his face. "What about that guy you went on a date with?"

"What? When did I go on a date?" And why did Lockwood sound... jealous?

"A few weeks ago. Oh, what was his name? Dave? Derek?"

"Daniel?"

"Yes! Daniel, that's the one. I knew it started with a 'd'."

"Dan's not... we're not dating, Lockwood. That wasn't a date," she said, feeling increasingly flustered.

"So he just bought you flowers and took you to dinner... as a friend?" Lockwood was definitely jealous, and Y/n had to bite back a laugh at the idea. Something was nagging at her in the back of her mind, telling her that it was strange for him to be jealous and wouldn't that mean something? but she wasn't paying much attention to it.

"Well I told him it wasn't a date. And we didn't kiss so I don't see how it's relevant."

"Right." A momentary pause. "But still, how come you haven't kissed anyone before?"

"It's not by choice. I've just never... had the opportunity I guess. You've probably kissed loads of people, what with how many of them you charm every day." Lockwood shrugged.

"Not really. There was one girl a few months ago, but she kissed me after pinning me against a taxi so that I physically couldn't get away from her, so I'm not entirely sure that counts."

"... What?"

"Yeah. After that job for Mrs. Hastings, her daughter followed us out and shoved me against the taxi. I have no idea how she was that strong but I feared for my life."

"You're ridiculous," she muttered as she looked at his face, no hint of anything other than utter seriousness displayed on his features.

"Ah, there you two are!" George said, pushing open the door and talking slightly louder than normal due to the blaring music. "I was wondering where you'd got to! Come on, the others are all here now, and they managed to convince Flo to come along somehow."

Y/n put down her empty tea mug and picked up her plastic cup that had had Lucy's punch in it (although what was in the punch itself she had no idea), and headed into the living room with Lockwood close behind to get comfy for the celebrations.

~~~

"Five minutes everyone!" Lucy shouted. She had since emerged from wherever it was that she'd been hiding (she and Norrie had appeared in giggles and with blushes on their faces, so Y/n felt sure in her assumption of what they'd been up to) and was now handing around a large bottle of some sort of cocktail that she'd mixed earlier.

Y/n and Lockwood were curled up next to each other on the sofa, somehow fitting the both of them on there without falling off. Lockwood was partially sat up, leaning his back against the armrest and holding Y/n close to him by wrapping an arm around her waist.

"You alright, love?" Lockwood murmured into her ear, and she nodded sleepily. Despite the loud music and alcohol Y/n was feeling worn out from the late hour, and Lockwood's hand stroking through her hair wasn't helping to keep her awake.

"I'm alright. Jus' tired."

"Not long now. Four minutes I think."

"I still don't have anyone to kiss," she said, a frown appearing on her face. The alcohol had made her tipsy, and she pushed herself up to look at Lockwood. "Neither do you. Oh!" she exclaimed, thinking up a brilliant idea that was helped by the drinks in her system. "We should jus' kiss each other, then all of our problems will be solved!"

"I'm not sure about all, love," Lockwood chuckled, and Y/n's frown reappeared.

"So you don't want to kiss me?"

"I didn't say that," he replied, voice growing quiet. "I mean, if you're happy to then... you know. If you don't mind then I don't... we can kiss. If you want."

"I want. I'm not going to lie I've wanted to kiss you for years now. You're so prettyyyy and kind and funny and lovely." She had no control over her words, all of them flying out before she could properly stop and think, and then she was registering them and slapping her hand over her mouth while her face turned red. Lockwood was just staring at her, his mouth slightly open and his face flushed from the alcohol he had drunk, and she buried her head in his chest.

"Why are you hiding, love? You're pretty too, so I don't know why you're not letting me look at you." He was still stroking his fingers through her hair, and when she brought her head back up to smile softly at him he pulled her closer (although she hadn't thought that was possible).

"You're drunk, Lockwood."

"I'm not-sober. There's a difference. Besides, you're not-sober too," he wagged a finger at her with a smile. "Wait, what does me being not-sober have to do with you being pretty?"

"'Cause you don't know what you're saying."

"I know exactly what I'm saying, love." It was almost too much, the fondness in his eyes, and if she wasn't so captivated she would have looked away. "I've wanted to kiss you for years too, I was just never brave enough."

"Ten seconds!" Lucy yelled, and Y/n wondered just how long she'd been staring into Lockwood's eyes for time to pass so quickly.

"Nine!" the others gathered in the room started chanting, not noticing Lockwood and Y/n cuddled up on the sofa. "Eight! Seven! Six!" Lockwood pushed a strand of hair back behind Y/n's ear, his hand lingering at the side of her face and cupping her cheek. "Five! Four! Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!"

"Happy New Year, Lockwood," she whispered, brushing her nose against his.

"Happy New Year, Y/n/n," he whispered back, pressing his mouth to hers.

[gay-jesus-probably]

What was your 9/11 sona

God, I wish I remembered. Unfortunately, while the whole mess is absolutely hilarious in hindsight, back in the day I just thought it was incredibly tasteless and an insult to the people who actually lost loved ones that day (which it absolutely was!), so I was mortified to have to participate in it. But I didn't want to argue the point, cause with how subjective English is, getting on the teachers bad side will just obliterate your grade, and I'd always been in the high 90's for english so I wasn't about to break that streak over a stupid insensitive writing assignment. So I grit my teeth, wrote some shitty, generic OC, gave them a tasteless, non-offensive eulogy, then tore up the paper and threw it out the second I got the marked assignment back.

And that was about a decade ago now, so I can't remember any details about my tragically deceased 9/11sona - all I can really remember about grade 9 english is the 9/11 stuff, the teacher being really weird about demanding we say 'zed' instead of 'zee' because we're Canadian, and the look of absolute shock on her face when she informed me that I'd gotten a perfect 100% on the reading comp part of the PAT exam (still lowkey proud of that lmao). Moral of the story, don't throw out really embarrassing school writing assignments; they might be hilarious in hindsight.

...The real punchline of all this is that while I went to all that effort to avoid pissing off my teacher and tanking my marks in grade 9, in grade 10 I hit that exact problem literally before my first class had started. I had english in the second semester that year, and my older sibling had given me the book version of Les Miserables as a christmas gift that year, and I was still working on it when school started back up. So I made the terrible mistake of walking into english class about ten minutes early, cracked open my book to pass the time... and then after a few minutes of watching some punk teenager casually reading les mis, the teacher got up, asked me to step out into the hall, then led me into the classroom next door to introduce me to the AP english teacher, and inform him that I was probably better suited for his class. I had to hastily clarify that no the fuck I was not, I had three core classes that semester and a mixup with my one elective meant I was stuck in the goddamn grade 12 band class, so if I didn't have one class I didn't need to put effort into, I would die of stress. Grade 10 english teacher tried to pressure me into taking the AP class anyways, and after I kept refusing, she eventually was like "fine, you can stay in my class, but I'm going to grade you like you're an AP student the whole time."

And for the entire semester, she refused to mark any of my work higher than an 80%. Can you tell I'm still angry about that, because I'm still really fucking angry about it.

[aita-blorbos]

[OCs based on an AU of an established fictional setting] AITA for taking a dive? First things first: I'm a defense attorney. Not just any defense attorney, but a *super* defense attorney. And I'm not just saying that! There was this whole big event in my universe about ten years ago where the world almost ended, but then it stopped at the last second, and around 2% of the human race was randomly given one of a few specific sets of powers- there are mind-readers, there are shapeshifters, there are guys running around who can set stuff on fire, et cetera. Most of their powers were latent for a year or two, but I was one of the lucky ones who manifested theirs right away. When you talk to me in person, I'm supernaturally convincing! (And there are some weird side effects with scorpions or whatever, but this isn't about that.) Neat power for a lawyer to have, huh? In fact, I'm one of the best in the state- so I'm not telling you which one I'm from, because then it'd be obvious who I am.

So I guess that's how I managed to get hired by this one guy. Super big guy, all sweaty, had a really thick Dixie accent, always whistling this weird song I couldn't place whenever there was a long silence. He said he'd killed his wife, and he wanted me to get him a reduced sentence. I said, uh, buddy, rule one is that you never *admit in front of your lawyer* that you killed your wife. But I figured I'd help him out anyway- my own ex-wife sure made me think about murder a few times, and I'm sure some of you can agree, am I right, fellas? Besides, he came in with this *big* briefcase of cash and said it was all mine if I got his sentence reduced. My Camaro was falling apart at the time, so who was I to refuse a little repair money? So then the trial rolled around, and the judge (who's one of those psychics mentioned earlier, and her powers kinda cancel out mine a little bit, so I couldn't pull *too* many stunts in the courtroom) called in the prosecution, and I got ready for another easy case. But then something happened when the other guy called the first witness. It was my client's daughter. He didn't even tell me he *had* a daughter. She couldn't have been older than nine, and she was a nervous wreck, telling everyone that daddy killed mommy right in front of her and she watched the whole thing. I was too stunned to try to turn on the charm, and my client just stood there, nodding. I was already thrown off my rhythm when the prosecution got permission from the judge to show the jury a collection of crime scene photos. The less I say about how my client killed that poor woman, the better. I was too stunned to speak, let alone work my magic. I thought that the bar beat all the morality out of my body. But, in that moment, even if just for a minute, I thought I got it back. And I decided to do absolutely *nothing*. I just sat back down in my seat, not even providing a word of commentary. I didn't want to say a single thing in the defense of that scumbag that could possibly make the jury see him as any less than what he was, money be damned. I just let the prosecution keep talking. For the first time since my powers awakened, I lost the case. I felt like death warmed up on me. And, yet, in this twisted way, I felt *proud of myself* for it all. But my client- no, I'm not even gonna say he was my client anymore- the *whistler*- they led him off in chains, and I could feel his eyes burning holes in my skull as he left. And I could hear him. It's been five years since that happened, and I've had that impossibly familiar song stuck in my head ever since. This is the first time I've told someone outside of my personal circle of close friends what went down when I lost that case, and, even with them, I didn't tell them my silence was on purpose- I told them that one of the jurors was part of the bunch who got disease powers, and they accidentally gave me laryngitis. (Sorry if one of those jurors is reading this, by the way.) On one hand, I feel like I committed a perversion of the legal system by not doing anything. On the other hand, the little-kid morality side of me is trying to convince me that the whistler deserved what he got, damn what law school taught me. So I came here, on the anniversary of the incident, to ask you this: am I the asshole? No matter your judgment, it's all fine by me, I can take- (buzzing noise; vague yacht rock playing through phone speaker) (click) Sienna? (out-of-earshot conversation) (click) That was a friend of mine, she had news. It was about the prison. The prison I sent *him* to. The whistler. It's on fire. All of it. It's not a natural fire. They can't find him anywhere.

[fiercynn]

okay a few nights ago i got to SEE VIENNA TENG LIVE IN CONCERT, and i've finally emotionally recovered enough to write about it, because it was honestly my favorite live show i've ever been to in my life!!!

so if you don’t know vienna teng, she’s a chinese-american singer-songwriter, and caveat that i'm not good with music genres, but i'd say that her style is kind of indie pop with some folksy elements and amazing lyricism. i discovered her music around 2004, when i was in high school, and she’s been one of my favorite musicians ever since. if you want to try out some of her music, here is my favorite song from each of her studio albums: “drought” (waking hour), “harbor” (warm strangers), “city hall” (dreaming through the noise), “augustine" (inland territory), and “never look away” (aims). her songs have such a wide range of associations for me – to friendships, to past romantic relationships, to fandoms, to particular moments in my life – so she obviously means a lot to me.

vienna teng’s career is also important to me because of the way it has progressed: her last album was released ten years ago, and some time later she stopped being a full-time musician to work in climate change advocacy, which is also what i work in. she’s done some one-off shows occasionally since then, i think, but this is her first full tour in many years. she also decided to combine that tour with giving workshops on climate change in many of the cities where she’s been informing, though unfortunately not my city!

her music is also widely beloved in fandom, and is so famously used for fanvids that at cons you’ll sometimes have vid shows made up of vids entirely of her music, or have fans do projects like the aims vid album. a wonderful person (and vidder) named purplefringe who passed away two and a half years ago used to keep a massive spreadsheet of vids made to vienna teng songs, but i don’t know if anyone has recreated that since purplefringe died.

i'll reblog this later this week with recs for my favorite fanvids set to vienna teng songs, but for now i wanted to tell you all about the concert!

despite having been a fan of hers for eighteen years at this point (eep!), it was my first time seeing her in concert, and it was honestly incredible. she's got an amazing stage presence, both musically and otherwise, and is so talented – her set included her playing classical piano, live-arranging songs digitally in ways that i am too musically-ignorant to properly describe to you (but that you'll see evidence of in my last link), and playing guitar which she’s apparently only picked up recently. some of the highlights for me:

her opening number was “augustine" and i immediately started crying, despite not thinking of that song as being one that hits me that hard emotionally

her husband jacob corvidae and her three-and-a-half year old daughter arcadia were watching the show in a booth upstairs

she did not have a set list and instead did songs as she felt like them and/or by eliciting requests to be shouted out to her at various points

when she played "landsailor”, her husband came down to do the duet part with her, and she only gave him about a minute’s notice to hand off childcare lol. they sounded amazing together!

i had heard this before, but it felt very meaningful to hear in person: before playing “city hall”, she described how jeanette winterson’s written on the body partially inspired it because it made her think about gender and queerness in such different ways

she played some new songs! including two that she’s working on recording in studio right now: they are both called “we’ve got you” and she wrote them with the intention of mashing them up, which i think is super cool

and then she announced that she was working on a new album that could be out within a year!!!!

i cried intermittently throughout, but in the last twenty minutes, she talked about what climate work means to her immediately before doing “level up”, and from that point on i was just weeping for the rest of the show

she ended with a request, which was for her mashup of “ain’t no sunshine/lose yourself” which i had never heard and was INCREDIBLE to see performed live

anyway her 2023 tour is not yet over so if you live in any of the cities where she's not yet sold out i would HIGHLY recommend going! but even if not, the fact that she's releasing another album makes me think more tour are in the (relatively) near future for her!

[gabenvrhappened]

MusicOr… Risk, Us and Close To You by Gracie Abrams

Favorite Lyrics (Risk): God, I'm actually invested ⬩ Haven't even met him ⬩ Watch this be the wrong thing, classic ⬩⬩ Why aren't you here in my bedroom? ⬩ Hopelessly boring without you ⬩ Too soon to tell you I love you;

Favorite Lyrics (Us): I know you know ⬩ It felt like something old ⬩ It felt like something holy, like souls bleeding so, it felt like what I've known ⬩ You're twenty-nine years old, so how can you be cold when I open my home? ⬩⬩ If history's clear, the flames always end up in ashes ⬩ And what seemed like fate, give it ten months, and you'll be past it ⬩ Babylon lovers hanging missed calls on the line ⬩ I gave you mine ⬩ Did you mind? ⬩⬩ Mistaken for strangers ⬩ The way it was, was ⬩ The pain of, the reign of, the flame of us, us ⬩ The outline, well sometimes ⬩ Do you miss us, us? ⬩ The best kind, well sometimes do you miss us?;

Favorite Lyrics (Close To You): I burn for you, and you don't even know my name ⬩ If you asked me to, I'd give up everything to be close to you;

Shakespeare and Company, and its surroundings, have become my favorite spot in Paris. Yesterday I had a meeting with a friend, but when I came to our meeting spot he was still working, so while I was waiting for him, I decided to stroll around the Pantheon because it's Paris and it's me, the person who loves going on aimless walks. While discovering new streets and exploring each new corner and alleyway, I stumbled upon two guys walking, and, as I recently discovered, used my penetrating gaze to let the blond one know I was interested in him.

What followed felt like a movie scene: we passed each other, but we kept looking back. And looking back. Each one in a different direction until we were far enough apart, and I decided to stop. And they stopped too. Because of me? Only God knows, but I hoped he would come back. So I picked up my phone, while cursing myself for lacking the courage to run after him, and checked where I was. To my surprise, the famous Paris bookstore was just within a few minutes' walk, so I rushed to it. Soon enough, I was inside the most beautiful place, falling in love with every detail when my friend called me saying he was outside, so I left and promised myself I would come back to my new house. That's what I did the next day.

Rest easy, Gracie's songs are coming soon to this picture. While inside this portal to another dimension, full of different lives and perspectives, I sat down to read books I read long ago. History Is All You Left Me by Adam Silvera was one of them. I jumped right to the part where Griffin kissed Jackson, without even thinking twice, because that scene was still marked in my brain. Then I read a bit of Two Boys Kissing by David Levithan and a few pages of an Agatha Christie novel called The Mirror Cracked From Side to Side because, come on, this title is fabulously intriguing. The green couch in a mirrored corner became my roots until the place was about to close, and I decided to move to my next favorite destination: the margins of the Seine. It was pouring outside, and that alone felt so magical, but then my friend called me about the release of Us, a song from Gracie's next album that featured Taylor. The timing couldn't be more perfect: Paris in the rain and a new Taylor/Gracie song. I walked along the canal, the rain now just a brief drizzle, while feeling the song.

From the album, I already knew Risk and Close To You. The first, a song that I discovered together with I Know It Won't Work and Will You Cry?. Back then I was hurt by a guy that I haven't even seen yet, and that I wanted so bad — God knows why (I mean, I know why, his accent) — so I pretended that the song didn't exist because it talks about being in love with someone that's wrong for you so quickly that you just want to risk everything and go for it - something I was definitely holding myself from doing because I know much better now. Then later, Close To You was released, and I was out of that spell, so I could enjoy these two masterpieces and feel like, yes, I would do everything to be close to someone else, even with that not being so much of true since I have my chances, but I decide to flee every time instead of fight.

This day in the Seine, with this new song, wet pavements made of cobblestone, and macarons and two small bottles of wine (a red and a rose), I realized how happy I am here in Paris. Maybe the same amount of happiness I felt when I decided to leave everything behind and start again in London. That happiness, as you may know if you read what I write, was drowned while I was in the United Kingdom, so it feels really good to see it coming back, quietly shy, here in Europe. And I don't even have someone to question if they miss the secrets of us, because it's been a while since I loved someone, but still these types of songs feel so otherworldly. As a premonition of a haunted future.

The feeling is the same as I discover every new centimeter of this new place. Will someone ever miss the secret of me and them? I don't mind relating to the hurt of this song if it meant that I had that something first. I can take risks and I want to be close to someone, but right now it just doesn't feel like the right time. Maybe I'm becoming heartless, but I like to think I'm simply enjoying my freedom.

[the-badger-mole]

Silver Sandwich

Zuko checked his phone again. Mai was supposed to be there an hour ago, and she hadn't called or responded to his texts or even DM'd him. He could admit to himself that he had been stood up, but he didn't know how to slip out of this situation with any dignity. The waitress had already brought him two glasses of water and a basket of bread. His neighbors to the left of him had been shooting him pitying glances for the last twenty minutes. Thankfully, they were all nearly done with their meals. He could slip out unobtrusively once they got their check and began dividing it. Or so he thought.

The waitress came out again, and instead of asking for the check, they asked about dessert and after dinner drinks. Fantastic. Zuko noticed a couple members of the party pointing at him with pitying glances and speaking to the waitress. Whatever they were saying, Zuko was sure he didn't want to know. Once they were done speaking however, the waitress just nodded and hurried off to the kitchen without another look at him. Zuko sighed with relief. He checked his phone again. Still nothing...

It was for the best, Zuko decided. Tonight was a mistake to begin with. He was tired of the on again off again back and forth with Mai. Tonight was supposed to be the beginning of another on again phase in their relationship, but if he were honest, he was tired of this game with Mai. It had made a twisted sort of sense when he was 19 and their relationship was one of the few remotely reliable things in his life, but now he was dangerously close to 25 and felt like his relationship with Mai was less reliable and more a rut he couldn't seem to get out of. If they kept going the way they were, they'd waste the rest of their 20s and probably end up getting married, because what else was there for them to do? They might have kids some day. Zuko thought he would like to be a father, and Mai was...well, more ambivalent than anything to the idea. After that, they'd either coast through the rest of their marriage nursing a quiet resentment of each other, or one of them would get the nerve to end things before they hit their retirement years.

Zuko shook his head to clear the images from his mind. He pulled out his phone again. Still nothing from Mai. He would give her ten minutes more, then he would leave, whether or not the people next to him were still there. It shouldn't matter to him what they thought, anyway. They were total strangers, and he was unlikely to see any of them again. He'd leave with his head held high and they'd forget all about him in a week or two.

"Chocolate cake, sir?" Zuko blinked in surprise at the the confection suddenly on the table in front of him. Then he followed the hand holding up to the face of one of the prettiest women he'd ever seen in real life.

"I-I didn't order-" he stammered.

"On the house," the waitress whispered and gave him a conspiratory wink. She subtly motioned towards the table that had been watching him with those aggravating looks. "Those folks over there were planning to invite you to join them, but trust me, you're better off over here. I told them you were a restaurant critic and you liked to observe the ambience of a restaurant before you ate anything."

"Oh," Zuko felt heat flooding his cheeks, and he there was a spectacular blush on his face at the moment. "Um...thanks?"

"Hey, no problem," the waitress said. "I've been there. I once got stood up three times in one year. The first and third times were the same guy."

"What kind of idiot would stand you up?" Zuko wanted to take back those words immediately, but the pretty waitress just laughed, which had the added bonus of making her devasting eyes twinkle in the dim light of the restaurant.

"Probably the same kind that would leave a guy like you waiting," she said. Zuko's heart thudded in his chest. Surely she wasn't flirting with him?

"Oh...well..."Zuko fumbled for something intelligent to say. "I'd like to maybe compare notes sometime. Maybe if we figure out what kinds of idiots we were stood up by we could avoid them." The waitress smiled at him- a wide, bright, inviting smile.

"I'm on the clock for another 20 minutes," she told him. "But I'd be happy to join you for a cup of coffee once my shift is over? Unless your date shows up, of course." Zuko doubted very much that Mai would show up that evening. She would probably call him the next day with some half-hearted lie about mixing the days up and her phone dying, but there was little danger her making an appearance at the restaurant.

"I'd like that," he finally said. He cleared his throat and stuck his hand out. "Um...I'm Zuko, by the way." The waitress took his hand and shook it firmly.

"Katara," she said with that brilliant smile. In the back of his mind, Zuko recalled that someone had told him that every cloud had a silver lining, though as he met Katara's friendly, twinkling eyes, he thought maybe the lining was closer to blue.

[loupettes]

i'm still figuring out how to use this app so i just saw your response to my ask! i'd love to request something from your headcannons! i can't choose between these three:

1) Mia looks like Jenny and that terrifies the Doctor. He swears to do everything he can to protect her and Rose because he can’t lose anybody else

2) The Doctor's Protec mode comes in hard when Rose becomes pregnant, but he's in over his head because how do you look after the woman strong enough to take down the devil??

3) The Doctor gives Mia her own sonic screwdriver. Rose watching him teach her how to use it leads to baby number 2

any one of these would be amazing! or just general tentoorose +mia fluff

Oh, hi!! Thank you!! I’m glad you enjoyed them :)

I will absolutely get round to writing full fics for all of these — I’ve enjoyed these little headcanons! I’m a bit tired tonight, so here’s a little microfic instead while we wait for my wobbly mind to string a few more sentences together.

3) The Doctor gives Mia her own sonic screwdriver. Rose watching him teach her how to use it leads to baby number 2

“And it’s… this one, that opens locked doors?”

The Doctor raised his eyebrow sternly. “I’ve just told you about all the wonderful things this sonic screwdriver can do and you want to go about committing crimes—”

“Well, it’s what you’d do—”

”I don’t break into places!”

“You broke into Torchwood headquarters yesterday!”

“Well, that was different!” he huffed, as Mia fought back a giggle. She was teasing him as always, and he was falling for it as always, but Rose watched them with a warmth in the centre of her chest to know that she was his. Well, Mia was theirs, but all those years she had seen him interact with children, be brilliant with them and make them laugh, and now he was making his own child laugh.

And it was indeed a beautiful laugh, Mia’s. The Doctor could make her laugh in a way that nobody else could, like she was ten steps ahead of him and loving watching him try to keep up. She was far too quick witted — for either of them — but he had her attention now and it was so beautiful to watch them.

Mia had stopped teasing, and was looking at the sonic screwdriver with intent, her eyes squinting and brow furrowing when he would show her a particular setting. They were in his classroom — well, his lab — and Rose didn’t know how long they had been there when she found them a few minutes ago, but they seemed completely oblivious to her, lost in their own world. Every now and then, Mia would touch her fingers to the surface of the sonic screwdriver, like she was quite literally getting a feel for it, before he gave it to her.

“Go on, have a go — try and switch that lamp on over there,” he said, pointing to a lamp in the corner.

Mia took a moment to scrutinise the screwdriver, lips thinning in determination, before she pointed it towards the lamp. Rose watched her with a smile, but her eyes drifted to the Doctor and her smile grew. He was…

Oh god.

Rose almost immediately felt the blood rush to her cheeks to see him watch Mia with his own grin, his fond little smile he wore just for her and nobody else. When Mia pressed the button and the switch to the lamp flicked on, she jumped up and squealed in joy.

“First try!”

“Bloody hell, you’re brilliant you are!”

She rolled her eyes sheepishly, before handing him back the sonic screwdriver. But he held his hands up instead, refusing to take it.

“S’all yours.”

Mia’s face dropped. “What? You mean— you mean this one’s mine?”

“As long as I’m not bailing you out of prison anytime soon for breaking and entering, then yes, it's yours.”

“Oh my God! Dad!” she beamed, throwing her arms around his neck in excitement. “I can’t believe it— it’s mine?! Thank you, thank you, oh my god thank you!”

He didn’t have much time to respond, because she was bouncing out the door before he could even hug her back in return. Rose was almost certain they would be bailing her out of jail tomorrow, but for now… well, for now, she had him on his own.

“Can’t believe you gave her one of her own—”

“Rose!” he gasped in surprise, and it only made her laugh more. “Didn’t see you there!”

She reached on her toes to give him a kiss, her skin tingling beneath his hands when they cupped her waist.

“I dunno,” he offered when they broke apart. “Thought it was about time she had one of her own. After that A* in chemistry, I couldn’t really say no.”

“Mmm,” Rose hummed, distractedly. Her eyes trailed down his neck, resting on the hollow right between his collar bone that was just peeking out from his unruly shirt. God, she wanted to lick it.

“Rose,” he said sternly, almost as though he knew exactly what she was thinking. “Not here.”

She glanced up at him and she just knew her eyes must be impossibly dark. God, he was bloody gorgeous, she could feel her breath quickening as she became more and more turned on.

“Stop it,” he warned, but he didn’t exactly move himself.

She cocked her brow before she reached back up, kissing him much more passionately this time. Her arms looped around his neck and she caught his groan in between breaths, her name not so much a warning as it was becoming a need when he spoke. It sent shivers down her spine to hear him whisper it, hear his own breaths quickening as his hands trailed south of her waist, down to her hips where he pulled them, just a little, towards his.

She broke their kiss with a shake of her head and, just for a second, he looked impatient to have her stop. But she took his tie in her hands and tugged, leading him into the storage cupboard just that adjoined with the biology room opposite.

“Keys,” she whispered breathlessly, impatient now herself, when he pinned her against the door once inside.

“No time.”

He was right; she had next to no time to worry that someone might find them. By the time he had tugged her skirt over her hips and she had wrapped her legs around his waist, she couldn’t say she’d care all that much if they were found.

[fancybehaviour]

Daddy Woes

Summary:

Harry is a good husband; so he sends his wife out on a much needed girls day. James Sirius is a naughty boy; so he sends his father down an anxiety spiral.

Notes:

Written for @harryandginuary BINGO!

Prompt I 23: “Why are there zucchini all over our kitchen?” “Do you not like zucchini?”

The sun had sunk low on the horizon, and in a few minutes would dissapear for the night. About dinner time, thought Ginny, as she made her way home after a long enjoyable day, her heels clicking rhythmically against the cobble. As she walked, she rewinded the highlights of her girls day out with Hermione and Luna in her head. Ginny had had an absolute hoot meeting her friends.She was sure she would continue to reminisce until the next time she could have such a day; after all being the mother of a seven month old meant that such trips were a rarity and she cherished them a lot.

Her legs ached from all the walking around she did while she helped Luna shop for her trip and she was looking forward to taking the nice long bath her husband had promised to draw her. She let out a sigh as she thought of sinking her aching legs in a hot bath, her husband perched at the edge of her bathtub as she gave him an exaggerated recount of the day's events peppered with silly nonsensical jokes, him guffawing at them all even though he had already heard them all. He did that a lot these days, laughing. Especially since the birth of their beautiful boy.

She felt a swell of love rise in her as she thought of her family; her seven month old baby son who could scream the house down and her loving husband who tried his best to give her respite from the said infant. 

"Harry?" she called, pushing the front door to close and locking it. "James darling? I'm back home. Did you boys have fun?". She continued heading towards the kitchen where she could hear noises, taking care not to trip over the many toys that were strewn about their living room. Courtesy of their many relatives and friends, James seemed to have an amount of toys that seemed absolutely ridiculous to Ginny who couldn't remember seeing so many toys even at the Burrow, that had been the residence of seven children. Making the matter even more ridiculous was the fact that James's favourite toys were actually the copper pots and pans that he liked to bang about making noise.

It was only when she reached the kitchen and took in the desecration that it was  that she realised that perhaps today, she might be the only one in the Potter household who might have had any semblance of fun.

Eyes darting from her slightly whimpering son in his high chair, to the trail of food spills surrounding him to the multicoloured stains adorning her husband's apron and his miserable face, she decided to address a whole other issue: “Why are there zucchini all over our kitchen?” 

“Do you not like zucchini?”, asked Harry, in a tone that might have been wry if it weren't for the long suffering expression on his face.

"Absolutely not. Can't believe you thought I did, the honor of questionable taste will forever be Hermione's ."

He gave a laugh that seemed more for her benefit (making Ginny wonder if parenthood had done a number on her humour too) and set about cleaning up. Ginny walked into the kitchen and lifted the whimpering toddler into her arms. She pressed a loud smacking kiss on both of his chubby, chubby cheeks, and rocked him gently, seemingly this was all that was needed for his whimpers seemed to slowly subside. She could feel Harry's eyes on them as he continued to clean up the mess; she remained silent, waiting for him to tell her what was weighing on his mind.

Instead he said, "He missed you," so she turns around to see him, looking at them softly with a look on his face that Ginny could only describe as melancholy. It reminded Ginny of her fifth year, when he looked at her like that, like she was everything he wanted but was unattainable.

It seems she was going to have to demand answers after all. Very well.

"Alright Potter, spill. Whatever happened today that has got you relapsing into your teenage angst?"

He laughed, and this time it was a genuine one; BINGO!

Pulling a chair at their kitchen table and settling himself down he said " James kept crying after you left. A lot." 

"Uh-huh. Nothing he hasn't done before. "

"Yeah. Sure. But today I just realised.."

"Yeah?" She asked, settling down into the chair opposite him, shifting James into her lap who seemed very fascinated with playing with her hair.

Harry watched him for a moment and then continued, "I know James crying is nothing new. Yet for some reason, it just bothered me today, you know."

"Uh-huh."

"It made me feel like a bad parent." he confesses, looking a bit surprised himself, perhaps at that he had spoken it out loud, yet continued with "I have been feeling like it a lot these days."

There.The dam had finally broken. Ginny had long since suspected that Harry was having troubles with parenting. She had caught him brooding about with a tea mug in his hands instead of going back to bed after whatever ungodly hour James Sirius had decided to wake them up. 

She tried many times,to get him to talk, but between her own exhaustion, an infant with a strong pair of lungs and Harry's stubborn refusal to burden Ginny with anymore than she was already dealing with nothing had come out of it. But now that he seemed to want to talk, Ginny did not stop him.

"I just… "he paused, and swallowed, something he did when he was overcome with emotion but wanted to bite it down.

"I want to do this right. I have never wanted so badly to do something right in my whole life. Family..it means everything to me and I want to be a good father but I'm afraid I am failing."

"You are an amazing father, Harry."

He shook his head. 

"Am I?"

"Yes" Ginny agreed furiously.

Harry looked into her eyes at that and she hoped he could read her, that he could see himself from her eyes, how she fell in love with him more and more everyday as she saw more and more of dad Harry.

Looking away he continued, "I sure don't feel like it. Today, while you were away, all Jamie wanted was his Mum. I tried everything, feeding him your milk, his favourite toys - yes the pans and pots, we are lucky we have no neighbours- feeding him all sorts of baby food and yet nothing seemed to work for long before he started wailing again. "

Ginny replied, "I don't want to sound like I'm being condescending, but this is the only way I can seem to put it- he's a toddler Harry. No one knows why toddlers do what they do. If he was fussy with you today and missed me I doubt it's because he has decided you were a bad parent."

"I know that - rationally.But the part of me - the same part of me that gets jealous of blokes trying to chat you up or worries that Ron is going to make a new best friend  - that part of me makes me think I have been a bad father."

"Today when Jamie kept crying for you, and I wasn't able to calm him down or feed him any of the amalgamation of baby foods I made- it just felt like I was in over my head, without a clue about what was doing. I might as well have been one of those dads who say they are 'babysitting' their kids and leave them up to their mothers and that's not- I never want to be that."

"I don't just want to do this right, I want be good at this. Like I am at Quidditch or catching dark wizards. I know I can catch a snitch, I know how to find a criminal on the run from law. Just like that, I want to be good at taking care of my son...but today, everything I did kept failing and that made me think.."

"James dented your confidence, didn't he," she said softly.

"He did," Harry agrees looking over at the boy who was happily sucking on his toes, completely ignorant of the spiral he had sent his father through.

Lacing her fingers with his, she said,"My mum told me, with parenting, there's bad days and good days, but you've got to understand that having bad days is not equivalent to being a bad parent."

"I imagine she had a lot of those, with seven of you," replied Harry wryly.

"Two of them Fred and George", Ginny reminded him.

They sat for a moment in silence both lost in thought.

"Gin-"

 "Harry" ,they both started at the same time, and Harry motioned for her to go on.

"I was just thinking - I had help with this. My mum, Fleur, Angelina, my teammates - I had people to talk this with. To reassure me that I wasn't doing things wrong. But you don't have that."

"No. But I've got you."

"You do," she agrees. "But also, maybe you should talk to people too. Maybe my dad or Bill or George"

He snorts at that. "If anyone had told me ten years ago that I'd be talking parenting with George.." he trails off as Ginny gives a light chuckle.

"Seriously though," she says again,       "Give it a try. I'm always here though. To listen. Or if you wanna get competitive over who is the worse parent".

Grinning, he says "I fed him courgettes Gin. He hated it. I'm winning this game." and she smiles at him, simply happy to see him happy.

"Oh and what is it?", she asks, and at his quizzical raise of eyebrows she elaborates, "that you wanted to say? You wanted to say something but you let me go first."

At that he gives her a wide smile and says, 

"Just that I love you."

[slut-for-mothman]

Hell is For Children

Requested: Yes|No

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Spencer Reid

A/N: Special thanks to @oliverbrnch for editing this chapter and making it into what is is !!! I hope you all enjoy my first CM fanfiction !!!

Summary: After 13 years of trying to forget the man he was supposed to call his father, Spencer finds his phone riddled with messages from his father trying to catch up on "old times". He's met with criticism and shame when he reveals he has no want to talk to him. Everyone seems to think his father deserves a second chance. Everyone except for him. Aaron Hotchner. Logically it made no sense, Aaron had a kid of his own, would he not sympathize with his father for wanting to have a relationship with his son? Spencer finds comfort in the older man. Everytime his phone buzzes with a notification from William Reid, Aaron is always there to comfort him and distract him from the burning hole in his back pocket.

Chapter warnings: Angst, allusions to physical abuse. descriptions of violence and gore, swearing, and I think that's it.

Chapter One

December 16th, 5:15pm

"Hey son, I haven't seen or heard from you in a while. I hope you're doing okay."

Seeing that message was enough to twist the young doctors stomach in such intricate and painful knots he thought he might become violently ill.

"A while?" Spencer muttered to himself as he reread the message over and over. "it's been thirteen years, that's more than a while-"

A second message interrupted his train of thought.

December 16th, 5:27pm

"Why don't you come over sometime? My wife would love to see you, just something to think about..."

This message made something inside him break, the world shattering as his knees failed him. He swore he felt time stop as he reread those nauseating characters.

Wife? Since when was he remarried?

'Does she even know what he did to my mom, to me?' Spencer wondered, unable to tear his eyes away from his phone.

Does she even know she left a ten-year-old alone with his mentally-ill mother? Did she know what a selfish bastard he was?

Did they have kids?

Were they really that easily replaced?

Spencers mind was spinning, his apartment floor unsteady underfoot as his vision blurred. Tears stung his eyes, threatening to slip down his cheeks if he dared to blink.

His misery was interrupted as his phone buzzed once more in his palm.

Thankfully, it wasn't from the dreaded unsaved number, just Hotch.

December 16th, 7:14pm

"We have a case."

Spencer gathered his things, wiping the tears from his eyes on the cuff of his sleeve. He'd never been more grateful to hear those four words in his entire life.

His ride on the metro felt infinitely slower than normal, much to the young doctors dismay. The extra free time gave his mind permission to run away from his as much as it pleased.

His phone vibrated again and again with more messages from the unsaved number, each one more hostile and manipulative than the next when Spencer glanced at the device.

December 16th, 7:23pm

"Will you at least give me an answer? I know I screwed up, but that was a long time ago! I have a right to get to know my son."

December 16th, 7:25pm

"Imagine how I feel, not knowing my son has 3 PhD's and having to find out from my ex-wifes nurse. You're not the only one suffering here kid, remember that."

Spencer snapped his battered phone shut in frustration.

How did he even manage to make himself out to be the victim in this?

He's the one who left me.

'I don't owe him shit, not after what he did to me', Spencer thought furiously to himself, his knuckles white where they gripped his messenger bag.

'Maybe I should give him some kind of answer, let him know where he can stick-'

By the time the sentence popped into his head, his chest aching, he had reached his stop. Although cases weren't particularly a positive thing, anything was better than thinking about the man who had abandoned him and, subsequently, essentially ruined his entire life.

As soon as he stepped off the elevator and into the bullpen, he could feel his co-workers' eyes pierce right through him. It was almost like they could sense something was off with him the moment he entered Quantico.

Of course, while they were profilers, it's not like they were mind-readers.

He fled to the break room and poured himself a generous cup of coffee. He wanted to focus on what was important, which was certainly not the unread messages from a fetid man on his cellphone.

While pouring practically the entire container of sugar into his travel mug, he felt someone's hand touch his shoulder. He flinched slightly at the unexpected touch, and he turned to see Morgan, his eyebrows scrunched together in a confused and worried look.

"Slow down, kid. Have some coffee with your sugar." He said, his voice half-joking as he, presumably, tried to ease the tension practically emitting off of Spencer.

His phone vibrated once more from somewhere in his pockets, and Spencer's face twisted in fervent discomfort.

"Earth to Pretty Boy. You good?"

Spencer realized he was getting absorbed into his thoughts again and tried to brush it off with a quick sip of the sickly-sweet caffeinated concoction in his hand and a quick nod.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking." as if Spencer ever stopped thinking in the first place.

"Well, I'm here if you need anything, kid. But for right now, let's go find out about this case." Derek clapped Spencer on the shoulder again, which earned an instinctual flinch.

Instead of dwelling on that, Derek and Spencer strode towards the conference room, where everyone else had already begun piling in ad Garcia and Prentiss introduced them to their present case.

"Three men were found dead on the streets of a Nevada strip mall last night," Garcia began, pulling up the crime scene photos onto the screen.

Spencer flipped through the folder that was handed to him, scanning over the photos while distantly listening to the rather gruesome but ultimately unhelpful details Prentiss and Garcia were describing.

All three men had one of their fingers removed, yet their wedding bands were later found in their stab wounds upon closer investigation. They were all three found in close proximity to different hotels and known "lover's lanes".

The incessant vibrations and noise emitting from the dreaded device in his pocket was enough to make Spencer have a brain aneurysm.

He retrieved the phone from his pocket only to switch it off and shove it into the deep depths of his messenger bag. It wasn't necessary for a plane ride anyway.

His sudden movements earned him a few more concerned glances, but their attention was quickly diverted as Prentiss announced, "Wheels up in 30." effectively dismissing the team to get their things.

Spencer was restless the entire plane ride. It was only thirty minutes into the trip, with an hour and ten minutes left.

Normally, he'd be playing chess or even reading, but neither of those things seemed to tempt him, as all he could think of were the numerous messages probably flooding his discarded phone banished to the bottom of his messenger bag.

The last message he'd read replayed repeatedly in his mind like some awful alarm.

'Imagine how I feel...'

It made fiery anger swirl in his chest.

He could imagine how he felt. Because the pain William Reid inflicted before he finally left was enough to make Spencer understand what it was like to be sent to Hell and back, if such a place existed.

The memory of watching his own father leave his house at age 10 was enough to make him feel nauseous. His father leaving was the final stake through the young man's heart.

The physical pain, he could probably forgive him for. He would never forget, but maybe he could understand.

But leaving your young on to care for his mentally-ill mother? After all the pain he put him through, that kick while Spencer was already down was a new low.

For all Spencer cared, the man could rot. It was almost funny, thirteen years of healing down the drain with just a few text messages.

Once again, Spencer was ripped from his thoughts by a hand on his shoulder, It was Hotch, with a guarded but concerned look on his face.

"You've been way too quiet; is everything alright?"

'No', Spencer thought to himself. But he couldn't admit he wasn't okay, especially not before a case. More important things needed to be tended for than his own "daddy issues".

"I'll be okay," Spencer settled for. "Just some weird stuff has been happening lately. It's nothing I can't take care of, though."

It didn't dissuade Hotch's concerned look. If anything, it intensified the worry Spencer found there.

"Is it your mother? Is she alright?" He asked, leaning forward with furrowed eyebrows.

"She's okay! I actually just called her the other night," Spencer assured him. He bit his lip and gripped his messenger bag. "It's actually, uh, my dad. He's been messaging me, and I haven't spoken to him in thirteen years."

"Are you okay? Have you messaged him back any?" Hotch asked, releasing the worried lines on his forehead.

"I haven't, yet. I figured I'd wait until the case was over. That way, there's nothing in the way." Spencer explained, shifting uncomfortably in his seat as his eyes darted around the jet cabin.

Hotch must have picked up the signal to wrap up the conversation, because he gently reminded the young man that he could talk to him whenever he needs to, or just whenever he wants to.

Spencer smiled and inclined his head slightly. "Thanks, Hotch."

"It's not a problem, Reid. Now, let's get back to work."

Spencer flicked through the gruesome photos once more, the swirling anger in his chest dwindling for the first time since his phone at first pinged with that dreaded message.

For once, Spencer was able to completely forget about the slightly outdated phone burning a hole in the bottom of his messenger bag.

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Dangerous Love (Pt. 12 of 13)

Pairing: Bruce Wayne (Batman) X Harley Quinn's sister!Reader

Word count: 2.8 K

Summary: You're Harley Quinn's sister, Havoc, one of the many villain's of Gotham. But you've been caught, and has been tortured constantly for an year in Belle Reve. But when your think your life can't be anything else than the nightmare you find yourself into, Bruce Wayne, the Batman, takes you in for a project. He has a program to rehabilitate villains, and you're his lab rat. But soon enough confusing feelings start getting in the way. You know falling for Bruce is stupid. But can you keep your heart under control?

<- Previous part (11)

Next part (13) ->

{Justice League - DC Masterlist}

×

So The Whole World Knows

Bruce loves you. It's the first thing that comes to your mind when you wake up. You talked for hours, until late at night, and Bruce told you exactly when he started falling for you. It was on the day he went to Belle Reve to take in your papers. That was the first time he saw you, through the camera they had in your cell. You remember that day because the lights were turned on for fifteen minutes or so. But you would never guess it was for Bruce to see you. From that moment on, Bruce told you, he felt something change inside him. He also tried to push it back, ignore it, misread it. But he knew he had to help you.

It got a little messy when it was your time to speak. You stuttered like an idiot, struggling to find the right words to express yourself. Bruce did seem to find it a little funny, so you playfully slapped him a couple of times. But in the end, the three words finally came out, from your lips and from his. Bruce is dead serious about your relationship, and this time he told you with all the words. He assured and reassured you this is not just a fling or a crush. He wants what you have to be serious, solid. And you want the same.

Smiling, you move closer to Bruce, felling as his chest rises and falls with his steady breath. “Morning, sweetheart.” He says.

“Hey...”

“It's a little late, I bet.” He turns his head to look at the digital clock by the nightstand on his side of the bed. “Almost ten.” He starts moving to get up and you let out a groan.

“Five more minutes. C'mon.”

“I'm taking you out today, remember?” He sits up, looking down at you. “So get up and get ready.”

He's way more excited about this than you are. But you get on with the morning routine. Shower, breakfast, and you have to add dressing up on something other than sweatpants and tank top. You have just two pairs of jeans to choose from and a few blouses. Bruce got them for you a while ago, but you never had any reason to use them. You have a pair of white sneakers too. When you're done, you do look different. Normal... These simple-looking clothes are expensive, you can tell. You've had your share of stolen high fashion clothes, so you know the difference between clothes that normal people can buy and the clothes Bruce Wayne has access to.

“Are you ready?” Bruce calls and you leave the bathroom. “You look–”

“It's just sneakers, jeans, and a purple blouse.” You cut him off, rolling your eyes at the smile that comes to his lips. “You look very handsome in this suit.” You can't help but say, trying not to look for so long and leading the way out of the bedroom.

Bruce rathers have his driver taking you, so he can stay on the back seat with you. Seeing the city after all this time, almost a year and a half if you count with the time you were in Belle Reve, feels different. Even more because you're in the daylight, not trying to hide, and not planning any kind of mischief. It's like seeing everything for the first time. Gotham has it's a beauty... at least here, the good part of the city.

When Bruce tells the driver to stop, your heart skips a beat. He gets out first, and you're frozen, suddenly aware of people walking up and down the street. “Let's go,” Bruce says in a soft tone after he opens the door for you.

“Let's go,” you repeat, more to yourself than to him.

And you're off the car, holding Bruce's hand as you walk at a slow pace. You get the feeling that people are staring. At you, at Bruce, and them at your holding hands. It's good to know that they don't seem to know who you are. Bruce takes you to a few stores so you can buy your own clothes. You resist a lot because you keep checking the price tags even though he told you not to. You stop by a restaurant to have lunch before you hit different stores. At some point you know you have more than you need right now, but he doesn't seem to see it that way.

“They don't recognize me,” you mutter as you pass by a small group of people.

“You're different. And not just because of the hair color.” He looks down at you, smiling.

Biting your lip, you hold back a smile too. As you look at the store's display, you slow down until you stop before a window. There's a necklace in a display, with three pink stones. Acting out of pure instinct, your eyes scan the store's entrance for cameras. Two. “I could steal it, you know.” You decide to tell Bruce, just to tease him. “One of those cameras is broken. And even if it wasn't, it never stopped me before.” You wink at him as he raises his eyebrow, starting to move again.

“Come.” He grabs your arm, pulling you inside the store.

“No,” you exclaim, trying to pull him back to the street. Which is useless. “Bruce, c'mon.”

“Ma'am. I'd like to see that piece you have on display. The necklace with the pink diamonds.”

“Diamonds?”

The woman does as he says, and seconds later she puts the piece on the desk before you. “This is a unique piece. The designer never makes the same piece twice. A true jewel.”

“It sounds super expensive.”

“Well, you can't expect to buy something unique for a low coast.” She says, even though you weren't talking to her. “Are you going to take it, Mr. Wayne?”

“Let's see.” Bruce takes the necklace from the display and moves to stand behind you. “Pin your hair up for me, please.” He asks when he notices that you won't move. Taking a deep breath, you do as he says, and Bruce puts the necklace around your neck, pulling you to stand before the mirror. “What do you think?”

The delicate stones looks beautiful, obviously, and you touch it with your fingertips. “I think it wasn't meant for someone like me,” you whisper.

“I think you're wrong. And it's you that makes the necklace look even more beautiful.” Bruce places a soft kiss on your shoulder before turning back to the woman. “I will take it.”

Unbelievable. “You shouldn't spoil me, Bruce Wayne,” you tell him when you're leaving the store.

“After everything you went through in that hell, I will spoil you... Just a little bit.”

“Well... I think we can go home now. Or do you want to take me somewhere else?”

“You will need a dress for today's gala.”

“What?” You stop walking again, turning to look at him. “What gala?”

“I have another dull party to attempt, and I thought it would be a good chance to introduce you to the city.” He says as if it's no big deal to take a wanted criminal to a high society party, where everyone will not only see but photograph you.

“Bruce, people will... Everyone will see that we're together... What will they–”

“Haven't you considered the possibility that I might want people to know we're together?”

“But...”

You don't even have the chance to think about what the hell you were going to say next because Bruce pulls you into a kiss. It's slow, as if you're weren't in the middle of the sidewalk of a very hectic street. But soon enough there's no one else. As you step closer, wrapping your arms around his neck, you deepen the kiss. The world fades away, and nothing else matters. And you feel like you can deal with the gala as long as you're with him.

• • •

As much as you love the silver dress Bruce gave you for your birthday, your back is still a little messed up. So your new dress, in a dark shade of blue, covers it. It's crazy how Bruce has to help you figure out what to do with your hair. Luckily, Diana is still here to intervene. She helps you make some waves and pin half of it up, to so it'll stay away from your face except for a few locks. You're worried sick about this gala thing as you go downstairs, and to the living room, where Bruce is waiting. He smiles when he sees you, and you blush and look down.

The short trip to the gala is silent because you're gathering the courage you'll need. When the car stops, you're taken aback by the countless photographers and journalists.

“Are you ready, my love?” Bruce asks, holding your hand. You nod, taking a deep breath. “I'll open the door for you and those flashes will be on your face. There will be questions, and probably a headline about Bruce Wayne's girlfriend tomorrow.”

“I know.” Nodding at him, you watch as he gets out. Bruce stops and waves for the cameras for a while before walking around the car and opening your door.

The world slows down as you step out, holding onto Bruce's arm, trying your best not to look more misplaced than you already do. “Just smile.” He whispers before placing a kiss on your cheek. And you do as he says, smiling and even waving a little. There are countless cameras flashing, microphones, and a lot of questions, so many you can't even understand most of them. Some want to know your name, why you showed up with Bruce Wayne if it's right to assume you're in a relationship. But since Bruce doesn't seem like he'll answer any of them, you keep your mouth shut. “Time to go in. Let them freak out about it.”

“Okay.” You let him guide you inside, a hand on the small of your back.

This gala takes place in a luxury hotel, and its main hall is sophisticatedly decorated. Everything seems terribly expensive and breakable, and the people seem to be stupidly rich. You even recognize some of them. Politicians, philanthropists, CEOs... You stole from some of these guys and here you are now, at the same party, as if you belong.

“Bruce...”

“What is it?” You stop by your table, and he pulls the chair for you to sit.

“What happens if only one person here recognizes me?” Would they call the police? Start running? Yelling? It would certainly be a mess, and the last thing you want is to ruin this. Bruce decided to bring you here so the city will see you, and to make a point to those women who still insist on trying to get him... And because he wanted your company. You can't even count how many times he told you that having you here would make this dull gala become something great... Bringing yourself to believe it it's still hard, but you're trying not to doubt him anymore. He has been proving that everything he says is true.

“They won't, my love. And even if they did... You're with me, remember? Nothing is going to happen to you.”

“Bruce Wayne.” A woman stops by, the same you saw some time ago from your window, hugging him in the garden. “So the rumors are true. You actually came with a girl.”

“Angela, this is (Y/N), my girlfriend.” He says, smiling as you reach out your hand to shake Angela's. There's a sting of anger in your chest, and for a moment you don't know why. But it must be jealousy, right? Bruce told you they're just old friends, but the image of the hug, and what you thought it meant back then floods your mind. But you bring back to memory everything Bruce said, and everything he has done.

“Nice to meet you, Angela. Bruce told me a lot about you.”

“Only the bad things, I hope.” She giggles and you offer her a smile. “You better be ready to see your face on every news channel tomorrow night. The woman who finally got into Bruce Wayne's heart.”

“I've been warned,” you say, exchanging a glance with Bruce.

“Well, take good care of him. He can be a little... Complicated.”

“You have no idea how.” Oh, if she only knew about his night job...

“I will leave you two. I still need to make my presence known to some very boring people.” With a last smile, she walks away.

“And I should do the same.” Bruce stands up.

“Okay.” You're starting to accept the fact that you'll have to sit here alone for a while when he reaches out his hand. “What?”

“Did you think I'd leave you here?” You take his hand and stand up, and he pulls you to his side. “I won't leave you alone.”

Biting your lip, you hold back a smile.

Now you get why Bruce finds these parties so dull. He walks around, meeting people, engaging in small conversations, complimenting random things... The difference now is that he's introducing you to every single one of them, as his girlfriend. Saying that they're surprised is a misunderstanding. They're perplexed because they don't seem to recognize you from any of the high society families of Gotham. Or from anywhere else.

As the night goes by, you feel the anxiety vanishing. You even give your opinion about some things. Politics, company administration, economy. It makes Bruce give you a proud smirk, that you'll make sure to tease him about later.

When the formal talk is over, and the music starts playing, Bruce takes you to the middle of the hall, and you dance among the rest of the people. The photographers are allowed in, but not the journalists. And it doesn't take much until some of them reach you, and the cameras start flashing.

“As soon as they get a few good shots, they'll leave,” Bruce reassures you.

“I'm alright. It doesn't bother me.” You have your eyes fixed on him, but you close them when your foreheads touch.

“There's something else I need them to get on camera. To make things one hundred percent clear.”

“What?”

Bruce closes the final distance between the two of you, capturing your lips on a soft, warm kiss. And it happens again, the rest of the world disappears. The flashes, the gossip... Nothing else matters.

• • •

“Bruce, I'm on TV,” you yell from the living room. “And not because I broke the law.”

He comes from the kitchen with a smile, handing you a bowl of ice cream before sitting beside you on the couch. “What are they saying?”

“The girl who came out of the blue stole Bruce Wayne's heart. The most wanted bachelor is now taken. Sorry, girls.” you add the last sentence, shrugging your shoulders. “Same thing that channel five.”

“I got calls. People asking for an interview with you.”

“Oh, no. They'll ask about my past. What the hell am I going to say?”

“You don't have to say anything. They don't have to know.” He gestures for you to move closer, and when you do, he pulls you so you're seated in between his legs, comfortably leaning against his chest. “Nothing else matters, remember? Just you and me.”

“Nothing else matters,” you repeat, closing your eyes for a moment to feel the soft kiss he places on your shoulder. “Life is good, you know? It's finally good.” Your mind floats back to your troubled past, when you had many things, expensive things, everything money could get. And how empty it was. Flash forward to today, here, in Bruce's arms, you finally feel complete, loved, like you found your place in the world without having to steal it, or put on a mask to conquer it.

“There's only one thing left, my love. Your freedom.”

Moving so you can look at him, you sigh. “Even if I have to be here, not being allowed to go out there again, I'd still be happy, you know.”

“But I want you to have everything. To be free to go for a walk if you want, to make friends and hang out with them. Graduate and find a job you enjoy... All the things you never had.”

“Maybe it's more than I deserve.”

“You deserve it. More than those guards who torture you. They're criminals too, as were you.”

The simple fact that the said it in the past makes you smile. “I love you, Bruce.”

“I love you too.” You both focus on the news again, watching an entire show decided to talking about you. Countless photos and videos of Bruce come to the screen, and you can't help but look with admiration. You look good, despite seeming a little clueless in the beginning, but then you look almost normal, holding onto Bruce's arm. The gala was nice, and you felt a little special by being there, but the best part was coming home with Bruce and having the silly little things you have. Having dinner together, falling asleep together. Happiness isn't enough to describe it. You'll have to create a whole new word.

×

@fionanovasleftnut @glitterypinkkitty @mybabyboytony @chipster-21 @agustdpeach @yaakimoon2 @chloe-skywalker @rosalynshields

[sillyrabbit81]

Her Heavy Cross

Summary: Three years after tragedy hits, Lana she decides to start dating again. She meets Will through a dating app and they begin an online romance. After months of constant requests, Lana relents and agrees to meet and go on an irl date with Will. But is Will who he says he is? Lana is quickly pulled into an intense relationship forcing her to confront her tragic past. Will Lana face it or will she close her heart forever?

Pairing: OMC x OFC

Word Count: approx 2.7k

Warnings: swearing, angst, drunk, motion of death

Authors Note: The story started as a Henry Cavill fanfiction but I changed it to be an original character, but shades of Henry are still there. Hope you enjoy the story and thanks for reading.

Part 2 Part 4

Part 3

In less than ten minutes, we had pulled up to Liam's house. Liam paid for the taxi too. I kind of argued this time, but he pointed out he asked me to his house. I didn't get too stubborn about it.

Liam was living in a four-story terrace house, recently renovated by the looks of it. It was painted white with black wrought iron lacework, and it was beautiful. The front door and windows were painted black. It appeared to be the twin of the house that shared its wall.

We entered through the dining room, and I realised it was actually the two houses renovated together. The inside was modern with original heritage touches. The floors were light timber, and the walls were white. The ceilings had plaster and cornice so beautifully ornate that restoration must have taken ages. The room had an imposing black marble fireplace and a deep brown, almost black wooden dining table set on a grey shag rug in the room's centre. A huge abstract painting of bright pinks, greens and grey hung on the wall.

"Wow, this must have cost a mint!" I quickly covered my mouth. "I'm sorry, that was rude of me."

"It's ok. I was pleasantly surprised by the house too. The studio got the house for me I...." Liam was interrupted by a massive dog bounding into the room.

Liam got down and roughhoused with the dog for a bit. Wow, he was a monster! I'd seen a picture of Cole before that "Will" had sent me, but I wasn't quite prepared for how big he was. He was almost completely black with some brown above his eyes and ears. His paws were brown too, and his belly was grey. He wasn't any particular breed, apparently a rescue dog. I thought of my bull terrier cross cattle dog at home. This dog would eat him for breakfast, and Perrin wasn't small.

Cole's pink tongue lolled, and he panted as Liam moved from side to side. Cole imitated Liam's actions jumping about. He barked a couple of times as he got excited by the play. The noise reverberated through the quiet house.

"Shhh, Cole, people are sleeping." Liam softly admonished. Then his voice became stern. "Sit," he ordered before patting him. Liam looked at me and said, "Lana, this is Cole. Cole, Lana."

"Hi, Cole. You're much bigger in person." I could hear the slight tremor in my voice. Liam must have sensed I was nervous and came over to stand near me. Cole padded over and sniffed at me. Gingerly, I put my hand by my side and let him approach me. Cole nuzzled my hand, and I gave him a pat on the side of his neck. I let out a sigh of relief.

"I was worried he wouldn't like me. I love dogs but always get nervous around new ones." Liam put his head to the side, asking a silent question. "I had a dingo go me one time, and I've never really gotten over it." I squatted down and gave Cole more pats. "I think this guy is ok, though."

"Yeah, he's a good boy. How is Perrin, by the way?"

"He's ok." I sighed, "he's just old. The poor little guy can't get onto my bed anymore and sleeps in my lounge room now. I kinda miss it, but I have slept a bit better."

Liam gave Cole some more pats and told him to go sit. "Come on. I'll make you a tea or coffee if you'd like." I agreed a coffee would be perfect right now. I needed something to sober me up.

I sat at the kitchen bench while Liam made coffees. Cole sat by my stool, and I patted his head while watching Liam. Liam had kicked off his shoes and was walking around in his bare feet. It was amazing to see him so much more relaxed here than while we were out. He really did appear to enjoy being at home.

As Liam made our coffee, he moved with a grace that surprised me. His movements seemed economical and rigid but hinted at the power beneath them. He seemed coiled and ready to explode at any moment. It was like he was dancing the pasodoble, his body moving to an invisible beat. Images of Strictly Ballroom came into my mind, and I found myself humming Love is in the Air. I was drunker than I thought.

When Liam was done, he led me over to his large L shaped lounge, and I sat. Liam flopped down next to me, casually laying back and popped his feet up on the coffee table. Cole sat on a mat that was clearly his.

I sipped my coffee, not knowing what else to do. Suddenly the quiet between Liam and I felt awkward.

Liam and I spoke at the same time, "What.." "So..."

We both laughed. Liam indicated I should proceed. "Well, I was going to ask what brought you out to Sydney, for real, not the Will answer."

"A new project. I'm going to be filming a television show." Liam proceeded to tell me about his project, working with some people from Netflix on a fantasy/sci-fi series adaptation. He was so animated when telling me that it was obvious that he loved his job.

It would be his first television series and was to be more romance heavy than anything he had done in years. Liam explained that he is filming here because the story was written and developed in Australia. "If it works out, I'll probably be based out of Australia for the next few years. I'll go home to England for a few months during breaks, maybe do some small film roles. It's hard with Cole, though, because every trip into Australia means 10 days quarantine for him."

"Oh yeah, and you don't want a Pistol and Boo situation." Liam looked confused, and I explained about Amber Heard and Johnny Depp smuggling their dogs into Australia.

"I thought you said you don't follow celebrity gossip."

"I don't, but that was big news, hilarious really. It was on every bit of media in Australia, and then they had to make this cringe video apology. I almost felt bad for them." Then I yawned, suddenly all the alcohol had lost its buzz, and I was just tired. "The coffee doesn't seem to be doing its job. What time is it?"

Liam looked at his watch, "11.30."

"Yeah, it's late. I should get home. I don't want to turn into a pumpkin." I cringed. Fuck.

"You don't have to go. You could stay here." I raised my eyebrows. "I do have more than one bed if that's what you want." Liam leaned over to me and placed a hand on my cheek, rubbing his thumb against my skin.

I looked at my nearly empty coffee mug. I swirled the dregs around the bottom as if it were tea leaves, and they would tell me what to do. "I don't want to go home yet, but I don't want to go too fast, either."

"That's ok."

I didn't move. I wanted to stay. Ten years ago, I would have stayed, but Andy's face flashed into my thoughts. I knew it was ridiculous. Andy had been gone for over three years now. But every time I even contemplated being with someone, I couldn't stop thinking about him.

Liam was waiting for an answer, but I didn't know what to tell him. 'It's not you, it's me' is such a tired cliche, but sometimes it's true.

"Lana, it's ok. If you want to go home, that's absolutely fine. I'll even call you an Uber."

I felt my eyes sting, and I looked away from Liam. My bloody traitorous tear ducts giving me away. I shouldn't have drunk so much. Alcohol always makes me emotional.

"Fuck." I swore under my breath. I angrily wiped at my eyes, thankful I had used waterproof mascara. My eyeliner was a different story, though, and black streaked my fingers. I asked Liam where his bathroom was, and I got up, only half listening to his directions. I found it quickly. It was only through the doorway into a little enclave with a powder room, stairs and a lift. What kind of bloody house has a lift?

I closed the door and sat on the toilet seat. I knew enough not to try to stop the tears, so I just let them go. Bloody hell, Andy. Why did he fucking have to leave me? Why the fuck did you have to fucking die. Goddammit. Why do I do this to myself? Why do I do this to Andy? I wanted to scream, to punch something, to throw something. I needed another cigarette. Fuck you, Andy. Fuck you. Fuck me. Fuck Liam.

As I always did when I thought of Andy, I remembered the last time I saw him. His sweet face looked down at me as he kissed me goodbye. His deep brown hair fell like a curtain around us, hiding our kiss from the world. Cheekily I had slipped my tongue into his mouth, and he had groaned as he pulled away. He told me to save it for when he got back and would be as quick as he could be. I had thanked him for filling in for me. He winked and said to thank him later. Then he left.

When I was able to, I started to take deep breaths. In through my nose, out through my mouth. I could feel the tightness in my chest slowly ease. Breathing became more comfortable, and the tears stopped. I looked at my hands, and I was able to release the fists I was making. My nails hadn't broken the skin this time, but small red crescents remained etched into my palms.

I waited a few minutes longer to make sure the moment had passed. It wasn't Andy's fault he died, and I knew that. It's also not my fault that I wanted someone to love again. Sleeping with someone other than Andy felt like crossing the Rubicon, no going back.

The fact was there is no going back, no Andy to go back to, even if I wanted. In my head, it still felt like a betrayal. But it wasn't. And Liam wasn't just anybody. He was a guy I had spent weeks talking to, getting to know, and although he looks different, he is still acting as I had expected. I saw a potential future here. Did I really want to let my past ruin it?

I cleared my throat and stood up, preparing myself to see the horror that looked back at me. Ugh, it wasn't great. My eyeliner had given me panda eyes, and the tears had created streaks down my cheeks.

Getting a tissue and blew my nose, and decided there was nothing else for it, I washed my makeup off my face. I avoided washing my eye makeup off though, that was a mess I just didn't have the products for, so I just wiped under my eyes and cleaned it up. I binned my tissues, washed my hands, took a few more deep breaths and prepared myself to face Liam.

I opened the door and walked straight into something solid that made me bounce back into the bathroom like a tennis ball. Hands caught me before I hit the floor, and I found myself in Liam's arms.

"I'm sorry, did I hurt you?" He asked.

"No," I was flustered again. I spent all that time calming down to just be in a state two seconds later. "I just didn't expect you to be outside the door. Jesus, you're like a brick shit house."

Liam didn't laugh. "I was worried about you."

"I'm fine," I lied.

Liam didn't look convinced. He let me go and ran a hand through his hair. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not right now."

Liam nodded. "I'll get you that Uber." He pulled his phone out.

That's it then. All in all, it wasn't the worst date I'd been on since Andy died. Actually, it was probably the best. Liam, at least, was a guy I was attracted to and didn't appear to be a man child. He seemed to like me, even when I cried over another man. Although I doubt Liam knew that's why I was crying. I had told him I was married before and he had died, but that was only once and a long time ago, and we hadn't discussed it again.

The tears had done their job, and a calmness came over me now. I had said goodbye to Andy, and I was ready to take that last step to move on. That was why I started to date again; to open my heart, I was ready.

I put my hand on Liam's wrist, "if you still want me to, I'd like to stay."

"Are you sure? I probably shouldn't have asked in the first place. I let my other head think for me." Though I laughed at his candid admission, Liam's face was serious. "I'm not joking. I want you, and I didn't think about how you must be feeling. The whole fake profile thing must still be weighing on your mind. And all of the other problems that go along with being with me. You should have more time to think about it."

And my dead husband, let's not forget that. I didn't say that out loud, thank God. "I will have time to think about it. But right now, I want..." Shit. I've gone shy again. Just fucking tell him you want him too! "I mean, can't we just have a bit of a cuddle and a snog?"

Liam's lips twitched as he tried to suppress a smile, "a cuddle and a snog?"

I nodded.

Smiling, Liam put his phone back in his pocket. "I think I can arrange that."

Without further warning, Liam grabbed my wrists in one hand and pinned them to the wall above my head. His other hand snaked around my waist, holding me to him, his hips rolling into mine. His eyes were fierce and focused on mine. I  closed my eyes, the sensations too much, and my breath quickened.

I heard Liam say through gritted teeth, "It's taken everything I had not to do this to you since I saw you at the bar. I wanted to take you then and there." His voice seemed to ease, the words coming easier for him. "You don't know how much I've wanted to touch you. To know you are real." Then he whispered, "and you are. Real. You're as beautiful tonight as you were in your pictures."

I opened my eyes and found Liam staring at me, and his intensity was nearly frightening. He pulled me tighter against himself, his fingertips digging into me while he crushed me against his body. I felt his hardness against my hip, and I couldn't stop myself from rubbing against it. This time Liam closed his eyes, and I felt the rush of blood to my centre.

Liam opened his eyes, desire naked on his face, "Kiss me," he said.

I met his soft and warm lips. I felt Liam's groan rumble in his vast chest, and kissing him again, my lips scraped against his whiskers. Liam kissed me back now. His tongue pushed past my lips, and found mine. His tongue playfully danced in my mouth. Liam's hand left my arse and started to feel my hips, my waist and then my breasts. He cupped them and gently squeezed. My breath caught as his hand skimmed past my nipple. His palm created friction against the lace of my bra, and tingles radiated through my body.

His lips left mine and went to my neck. He kissed and sucked at me, moving down to the top of my breasts. I heard him take a deep breath into my chest as his cheeks rubbed against my skin. His kisses became harder against my chest and moved back up to my neck, his teeth nipping at me as he went. Even though he had me captured, I wriggled against him, my hips moved uncontrollably, my breath uneven and weak.

Liam pulled away, still firmly gripping one of my hands. "Come with me." Liam led me to the lift.

"Where are we going?"

"To my bedroom." I pulled against him, forcing him to stop. "Sweetheart, I promise I won't fuck you until you ask."

My legs turned to jelly. I wanted to fall to my knees and beg despite my reservations. I nodded and followed Liam into the lift.

Part 4

[misskittysmagicportal]

All You’ve Got Is Gold Part 1

FandomAU!: Billy Delaney/Cormac McNamara x Female OC

Warnings: Slight NSFW, mostly steamy fluff.  Guys this ended up being long as fuck.  And it’s really only chapter one. Or Part 1.

Jeanie leaned over the bar at Ewan's to pour herself another whiskey, ignoring the bartender as he chastised her. "C'mon lass, don't the wee ones file in to the grounds tomorrow?"

"Wee?" she gulped around her swallow. "Ewan, they're pubescent. You know me though, I like to have a bit of a glow every new semester. That way the parents think I'm truly invested in the well-being of the brats." Jean waved her glass around in the air. "Ok, not brats. Most of them are well-behaved and genuinely interested in learning. Not like the little bastards in America. I'd have 40 to a classroom back there. Saint Fergus barely has 40 students in the entire school."

Ewan took it as a sign and gave her a generous pour one more time, "Heard you cannae keep any professors for the pay. But your husband-"

"EX. As of last spring," Jean corrected.

"EX-husband found some new blood in a few of his University students."

"Aye," Jeanie imitated the Scottish brogue with perfection. "They're all in the corner over there with Dr Purves now."

She had half a decade to assimilate to the culture of the small, boring town just outside of Aberdeen where she followed Gordon and married him without any family or a job. He became head of the Physics and STEM department at the University of Aberdeen, working on projects and female students alike. Jeanie, having abandoned her Master's in Education, was really only qualified to student-teach at a local boarding school. Before long, lack of interest and the economy drove the numbers down to four or five dozen and a position of Headmistress open. At least it was a place to live and an existence that kept her mind off everything else.

"I would say don't look now, because here comes one of his students, but my darling who can keep their eyes off him." Ewan pointed behind his friend with damn near literal hearts in his eyes.

Jeanie glanced over her shoulder as a young man, early 20s? She couldn't tell. But he approached her at the bar. Her first glance became a double, and nearly a stare. Embarrassed, she whipped her head around quickly and blushed in Ewan's general direction. "Sweet Virgin Mary," she exhaled under her breath.

"I normally go by Delaney, but I suppose in certain company Mary will do," a soft Irish lilt.

Jean slow blinked as the bartender broke into a cheshire grin. She took a deep breath and turned towards the man now beside her and held out her hand. Blood pulsing in her ears because.. he was stunning. "Brave of a Celt to set foot in the land of Picts. Even braver for him to be in the presence of the biggest asshole in all of Scotland."

"Well from what I've heard she's more of an Ice Queen than an asshole," he squinted before smiling brightly. Green eyes sparkling in the low light of the bar. "Your.. partner put me up to it anyways. You know, say the bit about the ice. Sorry," he blushed but still held on to her hand firmly. "I've heard you're rather pleasant from the others. Just aloof as it were"

"EX!" Ewan and Jean exclaimed together, and the young man blinked responsively. "No sorries. Cold-hearted bitch is what some of the 6th years call me when I confiscate their illegals. Headmistress Jean Turner, but the two friends I have call me Jeanie. Drink?"

"Just one? I'll take 5. I have to catch up with the others." He hooked a thumb at the group of obnoxious men groping the female students who hung off of them as if they were celebrities. Taking what he was offered, chugging it quickly and shuddering. "Billy. Delaney it is. Well occasionally."

Jeanie and Ewan watched as he basically pounded every shot placed in front of them. Squinting off and on, as if he was trying to adjust to the ambiance. "Is it hot? It's hot in here. God I hate people. Those people. I will never fit in with the misogynists and knobs who prefer rugby and football to actually learning about the world." He pulled at the collar of his sweater before taking it off and draping it over Jeanie's chair. He wore a striped tee shirt underneath "Sorry. Sorry. I've got my nose in tech and books and maths algorithms most days. I forget how to socialize, so I really just want to blend in with the norms."

"You.. are.. fit." Ewan sputtered.

Billy snapped back to attention, his mind having drifted off to the same group Jeanie's eyes kept staring at. "What?"

"He's saying you are fucking fit, mate" Jeanie gaped.

"My body? I'm not really certain about that. I'm rather spindly wouldn't you say?” he shrugged while his cheeks flushed profusely. "My arms? Is it my arms? I swim. Clears my head from all the clutter." He was rambling now.

Jeanie and Ewan started laughing. "Relax! we're taking the piss, love. Your every move is being scrutinized. Now why abouts did Dr Purves send you over here? Surely he has fucking with me on his mind. Not unusual, humiliation has always been the name of the game."

Billy made a gesture that resembled adjusting non-existent glasses. He immediately dropped his hand and pulled a tenner out of his pocket. "To melt the ice, Gordon said. He gave me ten quid to hit on you."

"One of his students. What a lovely parting gift. I guess you're worth the loss of the house and the car," Jeanie stood back slightly to properly size him up.

Billy bit the entirety of his bottom lip, furrowing his brows, "I reckon you're worth more than a tenner to sleep with."

Jeanie blinked a few times, head tilted to the side to make sure she heard correctly. "SEX?!" she laughed, unable to help herself. "I don't exactly know what all of this," she waved her hand down his body, "would be doing even in the vicinity of sleeping with this," pointing to her own.

Confusion came over his face, "Am I supposed to be.. Is there something wrong with you that I don't notice? I, I can be kind of oblivious to loads. I think, really, Gordon goaded me into coming over here for my benefit as much as his amusement. I don't have too much experience, but you seem quite lovely you know. Your hair is," brows furrowed again but in thought, "Nicely red in this lighting. Reminds me of my friend from Ireland. Hannah."

Jeanie pinched the bridge of her nose as Ewan audibly guffawed from beside her. "Saints preserve us," the Scotsman said between gasps for air. "Donnae if you are taking the piss now, bloke, or are you really this bad at pulling birds."

Billy grimaced, the entirety of his face beet red. "Honestly, I never make it this far. I guess they usually pull me and I let them?" He started to fan his face, "seriously,,how fucking hot do you keep this pub?" His forehead bent forward to rest on the metal and wood counter of the bar.

Ewan covered his mouth and ruffled the curly head in front of him. "What a wee babby, Dr Purves sent into the lion's den. You just drank half a bottle of my best whiskey and mortified yourself in front of my favorite woman in this whole country. Maybe you ought to drink some water and have a sit for a few. We'll give you something to take to the bell-end in the back."

Jeanie and Ewan's eyes met, and she bit back a smile before leaning over to wrap an arm around her husband's latest protege. "Oh Ewan, I don't think it should be only a story. Why not give the evil genius a bit of a show. Right now he can see Mr Delaney is headed towards a spectacular crash. Im embarrassed. Mr Delaney's embarrassed. You're without very expensive whiskey. Gordon will never let anyone live this down for the semester."

She put her mouth near Billy's ear, "Ten quid is worth SOMETHING. Don't you think? Just look at me." He obliged quicker than she expected. Emerald eyes gazed upwards at her while the heart banged wildly in her chest. "What comes next?"

"I reckon I ought to put my arm on your waist. Right?" his voice now low in her ear and a hand slipped around her hips to draw her as close as possible.

No further guidance was needed as the liquid courage kicked in. Billy stood up and took Jeanie's face in his large hands before he drew her into a rather passionate kiss. Hers instinctively buried in his hair, their tongues dancing as the thought he hustled her entered the back of her mind. How was it that just a few minutes ago he looked ready to vomit at the thought of trying to come on to anyone, not just her. Now he was kissing her like they were Hugh Grant and Julia Roberts. Jeanie’s back slightly arched as Billy dominated her personal space with his height, a hand dangerously on the curve of her backside.

Ewan held his own face, eyebrows lost in his bangs as he watched the two of them go at it for well, he lost time. Glancing up he noticed just about everyone else in the pub was watching too. Gordon positively green with envy and turning purple with anger. Ewan saw him lean to a colleague and mouth, "That wasn't the fucking deal."

"Job done you two," he cleared his throat and practically shouted to break them up.

Jeanie's mouth was cold as it kissed the air. Billy had stumbled backwards a bit, mouth turned down ever slightly in a whoops motion. He walked, swayed really and floated by every single patron, including the group of men he came in with earlier. Fingers pulled at his bottom lip before he passed a devilish grin over his shoulder in Gordon's direction.

Jeanie and Ewan gobsmacked, but pleasantly amused, looked at one another. Mischief in their eyes as Jeanie noticed Billy's sweater draped over the bar. "Mr Balderston, I think I have a grad student to visit this week. It seems Mr Delaney might need his sweater because the Scottish nights get awfully cold."

Orientation came and went, and the students seemed to settle in quicker than normal.  Quite possibly because this was the lowest attendance in the school’s 150 year history.  They had been in danger of shut down, but Jeanie was informed that first Monday by the Board of Directors that an anonymous group of donors had decided, against their wishes, to purchase the school.  Even if no students came back the following school year, or they were down to only 15 or 10 or 5, Saint Fergus would remain open for unknown reasons.  

To say she was relieved was an understatement for Jeanie.  Much needed repairs were being made, and someone had come to put together a state of the art security system.  Which really confused the faculty and dwindling staff.  Who would steal anything from this junk heap?  Even their books were falling apart.  Except they weren’t.  

By the end of the first week, the girls in their dormitories and in the hallways were abuzz with brand new Literature and Maths books.  They were suddenly interested in Oscar Wilde and Pythagoras.  Jeanie watched as three 4th years sat in the windowsill and audibly cracked open their copies of “The Happy Prince,” stars in their eyes.  

“Have you ever seen anyone as good looking as Dr McNamara?  Honestly, I don’t know how I’ll pay attention to anything else but that voice,” she held her book against her chest.

“Oh c’mon Siobhan.  It’s all about the eyes.  I don’t think I’ve seen anything like them.  Proper green.  If he sticks around, I’ll tell Daddy to talk to all of his barrister friends. Get them to enroll their kids here next year.” 

The third girl was clearly in a daydream out the window, “All I heard today was blah blah blah ‘important in oratory history of Ireland’ blah blah.  Lemme tell you, he can give me an oral exam any day.”

Jeanie cleared her throat and the students jumped nearly a mile high.  “It would do you girls a kindness not to sexually harass our newest teacher at Saint Fergus.”  The smallest hint of a smile on her lips.  “Honestly, how is it that I'm headmistress here and have no bloody clue who this mysterious Dr McNamara is?”

“Well rumor has it, Miss, that he bought the school.  Dr Purves hired him for a project at the uni, and he asked to be right in the thick of the school.”  Siobhan shrugged.

“What do you mean?” 

“Oh he’s installing the security system and having a new science laboratory built,” the daydreaming girl chimed in.

“I thought it was a grad student that was teaching here this semester?  Have any of you heard the name Billy Delaney?  I’ve been looking for him the last week or so, but I can't find him in Aberdeen housing.  I’d like to return his sweater.”  Jeanie’s face flushed pink, and the girls all cast a knowing grin in her direction.

“Has Miss got a crush herself?” Siobhan teased.  “There’s no student teachers this year, but did you say Billy Delaney?”  

“Yes.  Does that name sound familiar to you too?”  

The girls stood and handed Jeanie paperback books one by one.  A stack of them, young adult novels that had grown incredibly popular the last few years.  A stone wall with a glowing green and gold light graced the cover.  “A Green Pool of Light: Emerald City to Oz  Book 1” blazed across the top in that standard stereotyped font that represented all things Irish.  The daydreaming girl, Aila Jeanie would come to find out, opened her copy and ran a finger down the page.  “Yeah, he’s like a gender bent Hermione in these books.” 

Jeanie frowned and flipped through the pages.  The girls all started to laugh, not mean-hearted but in the way kids do at adults when they become lost in the world of anyone under 20.  “That’s Dr McNamara, Miss Turner, and he’s living in the Boys Dorms.”

Jeanie blinked a few times, too many times in disbelief.  The girls dissolved into hysterics and headed off to their next set of classes.  Things maybe just got a bit easier but harder at the same time.

--------------------------------------

Jeanie stared incredulously at herself in the mirror.  When exactly was the last time she showed up to any man’s room wearing only a coat and her underwear?  Or well, a sweater in this case.  She waited until the school was dark and quiet, she couldn’t risk one of the students seeing her dressed this way.  On her way to do a dance of seduction.  No, that’s humiliating.  This was all humiliating.  

What in the hell am I  even doing? She thought.  But it was too late, her legs carried her into the halls and across the floors and up into the West Wing where the boys slept. Tip-toeing quick and stealthy to the only source of light on this side of the school.  

Jeanie took a deep breath and knocked on the open door.  His back was to her, sitting with one foot up on the chair, a knee drawn up to his chest in the most awkward of positions.  His dark head was bent over an abundance of little digital boxes spread across a desk that he tinkered with under a magnifying glass.  Several computers and laptops spread around the room running codes attached to various projects simultaneously.  Lost in his work, he ignored her.

Sighing heavily, Jeanie knocked louder this time.  She raised one hand up the door frame, leaning in the most tempting pose she could muster at 11pm on a Thursday.  His head popped up, and he only glanced over his shoulder in her direction before going back to his work.  

“Well took ye long enough to find me, Miss Turner.  Wanna see what I’ve put together for the school?”  he queried without paying any attention to her attire.  

Jeanie felt the bile rise in her throat.  How in the hell was she ever going to feel better about herself when this man wouldn’t even acknowledge her?  Was it too late to just slip back down in the shadows and melt away like she never existed?  Still she took a breath and made her way to the desk and stopped directly behind him.  She bent forward over his shoulder, her hair brushed against his face and neck.  There was a nearly inaudible hitch in his breathing as she picked up one of the boxes.  Did she make him nervous?  Good, she thought and chewed her lip to prevent a smirk sneaking through.

“Well Mr Delaney.  Or is it McNamara?” She studied the box carefully and poked at it with her nail.

“Doctor” he interjected huskily.  He was nervous.  “I’ve got a PhD,” he corrected.

“Are you even old enough for a doctorate?!” she retorted.

“I’m 24, thank you very much.  I suppose that’s quite young to have several PhDs, but I don’t really keep track.  If it makes you feel better, I'm also a chef. Cooking is just science after all,” he said almost dismissively.    “Oh, That is L.I.S.A. you’re holding.  Large-scale Interface Security Application.”

Jeanie snorted; she couldn't help it.   “Do you mean an alarm system?”

“No it’s a specified security application that only I know how to program and,” he caught himself.  “Yes.  It’s an alarm system.”  He rolled his eyes and gently took the machine back from her and placed it amongst the others.

“If you're working with Gordon on some kind of secret project, why are you teaching Literature?” Jeanie launched into everything without really meaning to. “You know Dr Delaney or whoever the hell you are, several of the girls brought to my attention that there’s a character in those young adult novels written by Hannah O'Flaherty. “A Pool of Green Light?” They are quite popular with our 1st-4th years.  You're Billy Delaney aren't you?  That’s why you gave that name in the pub the other night instead of your real name.  That being Cormac McNamara, am I correct?”  She placed her hands on hips hidden in the mass of wool and cable knit.  

"Delaney is part of my last name. Hyphenated.” once again correcting the headmistress.

 "Don't see much of that in men" 

"Well it and my brain are about all my parents left me,” he moved to face his chair towards Jeanie and abandon his project. 

 "Well I bet they're proud of you, Cormac. Or Billy.  Whatever.” she waved her hand dismissively.  “You lot discovered.. what's it called?" 

"Dimensional Dark Matter Transport with the possibility of Inter and Temporal" 

"I mean, Portals. Or to put it in tv nerd terms: Beam me up Scotty" 

"Precisely!” Cormac exclaimed and stood up excitedly.  “And your ex-boyfriend-" 

"Husband" 

“Yes, husband.  Well couldn't have been good at it if he's your ex.” He bit a finger absently, staring off towards the ceiling.  Then snapped back to attention quickly,  “Well he wants to find a way to make it.. Portable. Not just in plotted locations around the globe. And my business partners, em Hannah and Brett if you will, would like it privatized. Dr Purves, he wants the highest bidder." 

"Military?” Jeanie blanched at the thought.  Then her voice drifted off, “So the books ARE real.. You three are real.  Hannah hid the stories in plain sight for the entire world to discover"  And for the first time, she noticed a framed photo on the vast desk.  A trio of happy young people: red-headed girl, pretty with large blue eyes.  A floppy haired, tan surfer type.  And a tall, lanky boy with oval glasses and severely parted hair starting to curl.  Jeanie took the frame and traced her fingertip along the glass. “Sarah, Zack and Billy.  This is like finding out Harry, Ron and Hermione are living, breathing people.  And here you are, in my school.”

"I could show you if you want but.. Miss Turner, why are you only in a sweater?" Cormac stepped back and lifted his glasses and put them back down. He took them off hurriedly as if he was embarrassed to be wearing them.  Turning once more to face her "Is.. Is that MY sweater? You're only in. Jeanie, Where are your pants?" 

"Well I planned on seducing you Mr.." 

"Doctor" -

Jeanie sighed as if she had been defeated, "DOCTOR Delaney-McNamara" 

"Well Ive mucked that up I suppose,” a deep crimson set across his ears.

" I mean you can have your sweater back,” Jeanie arched an eyebrow seductively. Pulling the sweater over her head to reveal only a pair of her nicest black panties and bra underneath.  Nothing else.

"Thank you it's quite my favorite-" Cormac’s eyes widened when he noticed the headmistress in front of him wearing nothing but lingerie.  He squinted briefly while scratching his head.  “Oh.. Jeanie. That’s..” his voice drifted off lost in shock.

Ignoring the embarrassment growing in her chest, Jeanie crossed her arms over her chest.  “Why in the hell did you take your glasses off?”

“Oh, em.. Hannah always tells me I’m far more attractive without them.” he shrugged.

“Just like how Clark Kent is only slightly, by a molecule,” Jeanie pinched her fingers together, “less sexy than Superman with his glasses" 

"But his glasses are fake,” Cormac ignored the obvious joke.  “Right now I can just see shapes. Lovely, curved shapes! but only shapes." waving a hand in her general direction again.

Jeanie sat down on his bed without the sweater, to protect her now she just decided to go with her original plan. She crossed her long legs and leaned back with one hand back on the mattress. "Ok give us a look with the glasses on, Delaney.. Mcnamara?" This was frustrating.

"No, I reckon I'll have the kids call me Cormac" his hands on thin hips as he glanced upwards in thought

"Yes, erase that line of authority between yourself and 11-15 year olds. Don't underestimate them, Billy.  Or Cormac.  Or whatever.  You are probably the smartest professor Saint Fergus has ever had, but you’re handsome.  My girls will eat you alive" 

"I wouldn't go that far!" he was exasperated for some reason. 

"You have five PhDs and can’t even legally rent a car in America yet," Jeanie pointed out. 

Cormac waved her off dismissively.  “No!  Not the smart or genius part.  That is true,” he agreed without pretension. “It’s the handsome part,” he rolled his eyes in frustration.  

“Look McNamara, I can’t tell if you’re being humble or an asshole.  Your constant squinting and inflamed cheeks are ruining my perception.”

"Inflamed.." he touched his face  "It's rather distracting. You in your.  I may realize now that's your intent. I'm not really NEW to this, uh women coming on to me. It's just not always quite so forward?"

 "Had I known you were a doctor of  Quantum Mechanics, my approach would be a little less intense. 10 quid or not, you were the one kissing me last night." Jeanie got up off the bed "Ill go, but can I take your sweater with me? The students don't need to see this" 

"Oh, em do ya have to? You're already here, and I'm sure quite lovely to look at." 

"Cormac put your glasses on" 

"Really?" he was adorably confused "I would have to take them off if we-" 

"Have sex?" 

"I didn't mean to imply- I've never really-" he nervously put his glasses back on. Then started fiddling with his hands and chewing on one. 

"No fucking way!” Jeanie sat up quickly “But you're-" 

"Oh please don't say hot." 

"Well-travelled?"

"I am not completely virginal, I'll have ye know! I've done tings. SEXY tings. I've put my mouth and fingers in places on a woman. I'm just picky about where I’d put my penis."  

Jeanie’s amused now, she can’t help it. An eyebrow raised and a laugh ready to escape because he's pacing around and gesticulating wildly now. "Are.. are you getting more Irish?" 

"MAYBE I AM!" he shouted louder than he meant to, then unexpectedly pulled his shirt over his head.

Jeanie laughed at the absurdity now. "Cormac. Or Billy, whatever you are more comfortable with." She kneeled on the bed coming to the edge of it. "We don't have to do this. I'm not asking you to justify your virginity; that your business. It’s a patriarchal construct anyways to make us feel like we have to engage in sexual activity.  Then when we do, we’re trash.  It’s a no-win situation for anyone. I LIKE you. We have all school year to get to know one another better."

“I think Dr Delaney-McNamara, but Cormac works just fine for you” his tone all at once softer and deeper.  

There was a weird electricity in the air, which very well could have been the obscene amount of tech equipment in the small dorm room.  It could have also been that the atmosphere switched so fast from mortification to that moment your body knows something is going to happen.  Jeanie’s head began to swim when she realized the young man in front of her was unbuttoning his jeans to step out of them.  

“Bloody hell...” was all she could utter before he wrapped her up in his arms.  

Jeanie’s hand on Cormac’s hip and the other tangled in his hair as they found themselves in another kiss.  Mouths dancing together.  She sat back and pulled him down so that he was laying completely on top of her now.  His skin was hot almost like a sunburn.  Somewhere, in the back of her mind, Jeanie thought maybe a literal electricity had settled in him from using the portals so often all these years. Their tongues pushed back and forth, she realized his body began to feel similar to one of those static glass balls.  The kind you press your hand against and every single hair on your body raises?  It was strange and exhilarating and comical all at once. 

The thought was fleeting though because Cormac’s lips made its way down Jeanie’s neck.  The breath caught in her throat as he bit softly before trailing to her chest.  His large hand gripped the flesh of her hip, snaking it around to grab at her backside before settling it between her thighs.  The other struggled to unhook her bra while in their current position, his annoyance eliciting a giggle.  

Managing to roll them so that she was on top now, Jeanie deftly reached behind herself to finish the job.  Her breasts free, Cormac took one in his mouth.  His tongue was warm against her skin as he began to suck and lick at a nipple and the flesh around it.  Alternating between each hungrily, hand still lost in between her thighs.  A  finger began to trace the fabric of her panties.  

Audible gasp now, as Jeanie fumbled to reciprocate any way she could.  Kissing his forehead?  or rocking her hips against his hand, she began to float outside of her body. What was she doing?  Trying to feel wanted after all of this time?  Maybe give the other adults something to gossip about over the weekend.  Attractive new professor, the benefactor of Saint Fergus, fucking the boss his first week in.  Jeanie was his boss, but also his subordinate?  Because Cormac, with Brett and Hannah, owned her livelihood now.  

“What a fine mess we’re in, Delaney,” she managed amongst the new spate of kisses.  

Ignoring Jeanie’s frank statement, Cormac took to nibbling her throat again. Exchanging now for harder bites, just enough to let her know he had the upper hand. Fingers deftly pumping rhythmically with the pulsating of her body. He found that part of her with ease. The button Gordon never could without neon arrows. 

“I walked through an alien portal at sixteen and made one of the greatest scientific discoveries none of us can talk about,” That Irish lilt heavy in her ear. “A fine mess has been the last decade of my life, Ms. Turner.”   

There was almost a reckless abandon as Jeanie unexpectedly came. She cried out; it echoed off the dorm walls briefly before Cormac clamped a hand over her mouth. Their eyes both wide before they lost themselves in a fit of giggles. 

Lying beside each other now on the bed, Jeanie felt self-conscious while Cormac absently twirled a finger in her mass of red hair. She felt his green eyes staring as she traced the infinity symbol with the tip of a nail on his chest. Their breathing patterns quickly marched in time together.

“Not sure why I have a gut feeling your timidity was a fucking game,” Jeanie spoke without a hint of anger. More like curiosity. 

“Only just a little. I am far more capable of handling people in small doses.  There's a  certain anxiety hanging around the average university student. I finished undergrad in a year and graduate school in another. Never really fit in with most people my age. I thrived in a boarding college like this one. Never more than 15 children a class. Miss Murphy let me do as I please because I kept mostly to myself, even when she and the others were strangely codependent on my brain.”  

Cormac’s eyes still trained on Jeanie while he spoke. “I didn't mind. I DON'T mind. My tinkering and projects work bloody fantastic now!” he exclaimed with pride. Those long fingers combed through Jeanie's hair. His gaze became nostalgic, “I transferred my AI tech into the lab at Aberdeen.  There's my  personal version.  She's asleep right now,” he chuckled, gesturing towards the wall of monitors. 

Jeanie grimaced, “She?!” 

“Oh yes! SILVIA! I suppose she'll become LISA’s big sister.” 

“You invented a primitive android.” her response was incredulous.

“No no. SILVIA was a lie detector I installed artificial intelligence in to play ch-..” Cormac caught himself. For the hundredth time that evening, “I suppose. Yes,” he tapped a finger against the soft dimple in his cheek. 

“You suppose!” Jeanie reeled with laughter once more.  

Cormac’s face flushed pink, “You know what I did to you was just basic anatomy that’s easily taught by reading a damn book. I reckon you'd be interested in what else reading has taught me about a woman's body.”

And so it began. 

[moon-u]

Jean kirstein x reader || aot

Title : wings of freedom

Pairing : jean kirstein x reader

Chapter summary : it is during a perilous mission that they realize how precious time is

Notes : I wrote this overnight and was very tired, but I absolutely wanted to finish it and post it ASAP. I was hanging out on YouTube and I came across an edit on jean, it prompted me to write this

__ ☕︎ __

We were in the field, in the middle of a perilous mission.

Soldiers were dying, and the shrill cries echoed incessantly in our ears.

It was such a horrible sight that we had before our eyes. Our comrades, who had promised to offer body and soul to embody hope within its walls, disappeared one after the other.

What was going on? Is this a nightmare?

Why doesn't it stop? Is there even an end to this massacre

My gaze was empty of emotion. I was holding myself

right there, looking at our friends, our acquaintances, the people we had known for almost 5 years, suffering, crying, screaming in agony ... begging ... so that it wasn't their last day. Their last smiles, their last breaths, their last thoughts.

He was praying, what's the point? Was there even someone to have faith in? If so, why are we sending these demons who have decimated hundreds of thousands of lives in front of other human beings while wisely biding their hours within these walls. Serve four hours for these giants devoid of feeling, all that we were. Cattle to be hunted.

My mind suddenly woke up, bringing me back to harsh reality. Even though all of this was unfolding in front of my eyes, there was still hope. We won't lose like that. I wouldn't lose like that by doing nothing

My legs finally began to move, causing me to run at full speed on the high roofs. I had to fight. I have to fight.

My three-dimensional gear carried me through the air, making me feel light, powerful. Eliminating as many titans as possible on the way, about thirty were slaughtered with my blades glistening with hot blood.

We had been ordered to withdraw to a base in order to draft a new strategic plan. Given that fighting without a specific plan brought nothing but victims by the hundreds on the counter.

Once the plan was in place and hesitantly approved by everyone, I turned to return to my strategic position. This plan was really very risky, but the best we had on hand so far. The only hope we hung up on. Most of the best soldiers were either seriously wounded or dead like heroes.

"Do you really think we have a chance of winning against them ?? I'm telling you, we would have a better chance of surviving by retreating"

I automatically stopped my steps when I heard his hopeless words. Is that how everyone saw the situation. To retreat because it was risky?

"face it ... this humanity no longer has any hopes that it clings to, you made it obvious"

The soldiers nodded at his words.

"It's a beautiful speech you have there kirstein" I said without emotion, my eyes fixed on the floor. The people around me moved away from me, creating a space, a bule around me. "I did not know that we had a good talker within our ranks"

"they all agree with my words though"

"Do you want to get killed too? Is that really what you want y / n?"

"yes" I said, looking up at him, looking him in the eye, "I don't mind getting eaten alive if that means dying for a good cause"

"How can you think of yourself as soldiers by giving up like that? By influencing a whole regiment of fighters on top of it. Shits like you ,are hoping to have a good life without lifting a finger to get it, that's all what matters ... Do you think you can hope for a future by thinking this way?

I walked slowly towards him

"You say there is no more hope and we have to make it obvious, but here within these walls, as long as we live, that hope is us. How can we hope for a future without fear if hope itself gives up the fight for unnecessary reasons?

"go ahead" I said "follow him if you really want to. Anyway a soldier who fights for no reason is already dead after the first step on the attack ground. Personally I will fight until the end. go away while i fight for your comfortable and loving life, i am not afraid to sacrifice myself for a better future.

“I looked up, looking at them all one by one.

"after my death, and only after my death. You can come to my grave and tell me that there is no more hope, that I was wrong. That I would have fought for nothing, perished for nothing" I said fixing my gaze on his chocolate eyes

“I'd rather die this way than give up without fighting to the end. I would push my limits like It was taught me so well in these five years

“Watch me die and go. Or… follow me and fight. In the name of your families, of your dead comrades, of your desire for revenge, of your ardent hatred towards these vile creatures. Fight for a reason or give up for no reason. Dying here or there, there won't be much difference anyway.

"Me y / n f / n, I would fight body and soul. As I promised during my first initiation, such as the salvation that I made that day in the name of this humanity"

I left the room without letting any glance at the person who was looking at me now, watching me go, wide-eyed and open mouth in shock at my words.

With my three-dimensional gear, I roamed the streets eliminating as many titans as possible. Blood was on my head from these vile things. There were still no soldiers. So I really used my saliva in the wind, what a waste of time. I eliminated ten of them before landing on a roof to change my blades. One of my blades was stuck in my gear and I was taking too long. Much too long. In the current situation, no soldier could afford to stay more than five minutes in a fixed place, as open as a roof. It was almost suicide.

I had almost managed to sort it out, when a gigantic hand grabbed my waist, sending me up into the air. A twenty meter titans held me in the air, erasing all gravity from my suspended body. My blade had fallen. I couldn't die now. I haven't eliminated enough.

He led me quietly to his large canines full of blood , to devour me. I took a last breath, closing my eyes, thinking the pain would be more bearable this way. I automatically reopened them when I heard a familiar sound. Three-dimensional equipment. Someone was coming towards me. He was followed by a hundred people flying in the air.

He sliced ​​off the titan's finger taking me with him in the air, pressed against his chest. He made us enter a building breaking the window. We were rolling on the ground, with some shard of glass below us. I stood up, looking at my savior. Jean kirschtein.

I looked at him in surprise. My words had finally served.

"don't look at me like that. It's just that you found the right words to talk to the herds of cowards that we were 10 minutes ago" he said ruffling his jacket, sending the few pieces of glass on the ground.

I gave him a slight smile, proud of myself.

So I had succeeded

"Hey, I saved your life, you could at least thank me, you-"

" thank you so much "

"you know I said it just like that" he said scratching his neck

"you will appreciate it later kirstein we have no time to-"

"why kirstein eh?"

"That's your damn last name"

“Well for the record my parents spawned me with a name,” he said sarcastically.

I sighed and walked over to the window, I needed to get my blade. I was ready to let go of my three-dimensional when a hand grabbing my wrist stopped me

He slammed me against the wall, smashing his lips against mine. His hand passed over my cheek, stroking. He pulled me by the waist, pressing my body against mine. He deepens the kiss. He nibbled on my lower lip, and his tongue entered my mouth, dancing a fierce struggle with mine. I was still eyes wide open, shocked, and motionless in the face of his strong grip. After a while my eyes danced firmly enjoying the possible last kiss I would receive from a man before I died in battle

He pulled back a tiny bit, grading his hand on my waist and his hand on my cheek. He was looking me in the eye, with a slightly choppy breath from the hot kiss he had started.

"Kirstein"

He pecked my lips quickly, silencing me.

"Shut up. I absolutely wanted to do it before I died. So on the one hand it's your fault I'm here" he said in a humorless tone "I was a coward earlier, but like Usually, your words opened my eyes ... you always had the right words to give hope "

He was heading for the windows smashed by our shattering entrance.

"So this is your last wish?" I said watching him go

He turned around "Truly .. it's one of my last wishes" he chuckled "if I would have completed the list entirely you wouldn't be standing here fully dressed" he gave me a smirk.

He was about to jump

"Jeans"

"don't get killed"

He didn't turn around, his back facing me. He stood there for a few seconds, before jumping up and activating his gear. Flying it through the air.

More than return to combat now.

In the end, all our efforts paid off. We got rid of these monsters one after another. Once back, soldiers came to thank me for spitting in their faces all these words which had lit them in the darkness into which fear had plunged them.

I had not seen kirschtein again. I was looking for him without really doing it. Glancing around as soon as a boy looked like that horse's head.

I got up then, heading to my dorm before curfew. I was walking peacefully through the halls, when a strong grip on my wrist made me follow the person who had dragged me behind her.

Given the dim light, I couldn't clearly see who was dragging me, but I could clearly recognize who I was looking for by their scent. He ended his way in an empty room, lit by a single, insignificant little candle.

"Kirstein-"

He kissed me again, like this moment, but with a lot more passion. Pushing me against the wall. The room was silent, and only a few noises were heard, those of our lips meeting.

The kiss was coming to an end, he pressed his forehead to mine, panting. We had lasted well over three minutes.

"I didn't know horses kiss so well" I said mockingly

"tch. You just messed up everything f / n"

"I…" He reconnected our lips a second time, silencing me, then looked at me with a smile.

"Tell me" I said walking away, "do you do one last will, or ..."

"y / n f / n" he said with a sigh, "you never noticed did you?"

"You never noticed .. how I was obsessed with you" he confessed looking at the ground.

"It's creepy jean" I said smiling

"You can't help but ruin the mood, eh?" He said chuckling "in truth I myself hadn't realized all this, how much I wanted you. always believed it was pure admiration as a soldier. It's true you were always the best at anything you did. After jealousy followed, when I saw you often hanging out with jeager and his groups of clowns. Then love. earlier, for the first time. I felt a greater fear than dying eaten by these beasts. I saw how determined you were. And seeing you go"

"seeing you leave .. I thought that would be the last time I would see you. That's what made me change my mind. I didn't want to see you die without my being able to time to call you mine "

"I was so scared" I saw a tear about to fall from her beautiful eyes.

"I noticed that time was our most precious thing right now. And even though it's limited. I want to use it up with you."

"I love you" he said with a sigh "and until today this is the biggest evidence I have been confronted with" he said looking at me

I kept silent about his confession. Jean kirschtein. Stood in front of me. Redness visible on his cheeks. Admitting that he loves me.

"I-"

"If you want to reject me, do it quickly. Please. It's embarrassing enough like that and-"

This time, it was I who interrupted her, fixing her lips to mine. I ran my hands behind his neck, pulling him closer, He slid his hands against my waist, hugging me tightly.

He pulled back looking at me with the biggest smile ever

"I guess that means yes," he scolded me to himself, supporting me against his chest. Take me in deep admiration.

[possiamo-andare]

No More Divisions - Chapter Ten: The End ... Or Is It?

JJ x Original Character

MASTERLIST

hey guys! So, I'm thinking this is the last chapter. this last chapter is dedicated to @teamnick who was the first person to give me feedback and a true friend through everything. ilysm. I just wanna say thank you so much to everyone who has liked, commented, reblogged, etc. You are the reason I continue to write. To say I am extremely grateful for everything, is an understatement. Love you all <3

~

My parents never got a chance to talk to me. Shoupe said we were still suspects so they were brought to the first tent as we all waited in he second tent.

Did I ever mention I hated Shoupe?

I don't know how long we had to wait there, in the second tent. It could've been 2 hours or 2 minutes, I wouldn't have known the difference. I just sat there, my head against JJ's shoulder, and waited for Shoupe to come back tell us any news of what's happened with John B. or Sarah.

My head was spinning as I replayed the last 24 hours in my head. Only 24 hours ago, I had just met JJ and I still had no idea of who he was. I wasn't this close with Kiara or Pope. 24 hours ago, I was a naive Kook. Now, I'm so much more than that. I can't begin to describe what these people have taught me in the last 24 hours. I'm closer to these people than my parents. I can't see myself ever parting from them. They're my family.

And then there was JJ.

I never thought, never believed, he would have such an impact on my life. Then again, I was just a naive Kook 24 hours ago. Now, the things I had experienced with him has tied us together in a way that can't be undone.

JJ grabs my hand as we continue to sit and wait. "What're you thinking about?"

"About everything's that's happened. What about you?" I answer, taking my cheek off his shoulder and looking him in he eye.

He shrugs. "How I need some weed."

I laugh, catching Kiara and Pope's attention. Kiara looks to me, definitely overhearing what JJ said and starts laughing too. Pope joins in and starts laughing at Kiara's snorts. JJ is looking at us as if we're insane, but he had that signature smirk. I knew he thought we were hilarious. Soon, we were all laughing hysterically. I think it was all of the adrenaline and shock. We all couldn't believe the situation we were in and the more we all looked at each other, the more we laughed. It was contagious. This is what family is. This is what has been missing.

Even as Shoupe entered the tent, we continued to laugh. He tried to get our attention but it was no use. Finally, he screamed. "Hey!" We all stopped, smiles on our face, and looked to him. "Are you all high or something?"

This just made us burst out laughing again, this time JJ was laughing the hardest. Shoupe rolled his eyes, barely able to stand us now. He ordered the officers to bring us back to the first tent for some news he had to tell us.

Even as we were brought back to tent one, we were still giggling. Granted, we weren't in full blown laughter, but we still had huge smiles on our faces.

Then, something made it stop. I was the first to stop. I saw my parents, hugging eachother. My mom was crying into my dad's chest. This was so out of character that I had to stop laughing. Something must be wrong. My parents hadn't touched each other in years and now my mom was hugging my dad.

Soon after I stopped, JJ did as well. He had turned to me and saw the colour leave my face.

He approached me, concerned now. "Callie?"

I gulped. Kiara and Pope had their eyes on me too, not laughing either. I look to JJ, tears in my eyes. I knew something bad had happened. I didn't say anything though. I didn't want it to be true.

JJ grabbed my hand and looked to Kiara and Pope, who were already questioning Shoupe.

"What's going on?" Pope yelled, getting in Shoupe's face. Kiara was trying to hold him back.

"Tell us now!" Kiara yelled, louder than Pope.

Shoupe frowned, looking to the ground. He didn't have to say it; I knew. I let out a sob and JJ held me closer. I couldn't hold my weight anymore. JJ was the only person holding me up. And I could see him starting to cry too. He and I knew already bt Kiara and Pope didn't want to except it.

Shoupe finally spoke. "They're gone."

Kiara scoffed. "What do you mean?"

Pope interjected. "Like you lost them? They got away?"

Shoupe shook his head. He seemed choked up, which is weird. He never seemed to like John B., and now that they were gone he was all of a sudden upset. "They wouldn't have made it through the storm."

JJ let go of me. I sank to my knees. Kiara and Pope hugged each other as they cried. As we all reacted by crying, JJ didn't.

He lunged forward at Shoupe. "This is your fault! You fucking killed them!" Pope held JJ back as he clawed his arms at Shoupe. Surprisingly, Shoupe did nothing. Maybe it was because he knew all that JJ was going through and didn't want to add the that.

All I could do was cry. Not Sarah. Not John B. They couldn't die. Sarah, my best friend. My mind went through all of the memories we shared during our relationship and I cried harder. First day of middle school, making forts in her living room, riding our bikes together, having our first drinks at a party together. All these memories. I couldn't lose her. She was my sister. All I had. I could care less about Ward and Rafe right now. I needed Sarah.

They can't be real. I wouldn't let myself believe that this was real. There must be something Shoupe can do. He can't give up. He's stubborn. A little storm wouldn't deter him.

I walked to Shoupe, meeting his softened gaze. He seemed really affected what the news he just told us. "Can't you send out a search team?"

Shoupe frowned and looked to the ground. "No."

I scoffed, tears still rolling down my face. "Look at me."

Shoupe looked up, tears in his eyes. "No. I'm sorry Callie."

I turned red. I got all of my feelings, all of the hatred and sadness, and I spit at his feet. Officers instantly held me away from him. I kicked my legs, hoping to reach him but I was too far away. Shoupe tried to brush it off and say it's ok but they were already dragging me off, out of the tent.

I was scream crying.

Not Sarah.

I was yelling for JJ. He yelled back, following me and yelling at the officers. He the made the mistake of trying to grab ahold of one of them and he was instantly overpowered by an officer. JJ put up a fight though. At first he resisted but the farther he saw me being dragged away from him, the weaker he got until he finally gave up.

Not John B.

I could tell they were gonna bring me back to the second tent to calm down. I didn't want that. I'd been in and out of the tent several times now and I was tired. I was tired and being dragged around. I was tired of being manhandled by cops. I was tired of being made out to be a villain. I was tired and being told to calm down. And I was tired of living in a worl without Sarah. She had only be gone from my life for seconds, but I wanted to go back.

As I'm being dragged and as I fight back, I remember a moment from my childhood. Sarah and I had only been friends for about a year but she had twisted a boys arm for pushing me over. I remember her getting in trouble, but that's not why I remember the memory. I remember getting so anxious for Sarah when she had to go to the principals office and all she said was that nothing bad could ever happen to good people.

I wish that was true.

I wish that Sarah and John B. were here with us. Everything made sense when they were around.

When the officers tried to push me into the second tent to calm down I yelled again. "No! I wanna watch the sun come up!" I always felt close to heaven when I watched the sun come up. I needed to be close to Sarah.

It was still raining outside and my persistent nature made me get more wet by the second. The officers, who had to continue to drag me in and out, were very tired and I could tell that they were on their last straw. They both looked at each other, shrugged, and then nodded.

This time, I was not dragged and instead walked willingly back into the first tent.

I instantly searched for JJ. He was sitting on a bench, face in his hands. I could tell he was weeping.

I tried to make my way to him but I was stopped by my parents. They had ambushed me as I walked and smothered me with hugs. Although I appreciated, after a few minutes I pushed them off, saying I needed to be alone. The truth was I wanted to make sure my friends were alright.

Finally, when I pulled away, I tried looking for my friends again. But JJ wasn't where I last saw him. I panicked a little. I couldn't lose more friends. I scanned the tent, hoping to God they were still here and I hadn't lost them forever.

Finally, I saw them. Kiara was greeting her parents with a big hug and Pope was with his dad. They were hugging and crying. I tried to find JJ. I didn't have to look far because he soon made his way behind Pope. Mr. Heyward opened his eyes to see JJ and then motioned to him to come. JJ instantly moved towards Mr. Heyward, his arms open.

I smiled. Even though that wasn't his real father, I'm sure Mr. Heyward saw JJ as another son.

I looked back to my parents, who were still crying from the news. I knew I had to be with them now. So, I did. I went back to them and opened my arms, ready for a hug. They instantly wrapped their bodies around me. I was coddled. For the first time in God knows how long, I wasn't worried about my parents divorce or John B.'s innocence, I just wanted to stay here. Wrapped up in my parents warm embrace.

~

It's quiet here. The sun is rising and all I hear is the crashing of the waves. I close my eyes and think of Sarah and John B.

It's been 5 hours since I found out. The sun is rising and tonight it will be the first time the sun will set without Sarah and John B. I honestly don't know how I'm awake right now. I've been sitting on the dock near the tents for 5 hours since the rain let up, watching the sun come up in a world without John B. and Sarah, and I'm asking myself how I'm doing it.

I think it's easier when you don't have to stand on your two legs. I don't think I would've made it this long if I was standing. No one has come to bother me yet. JJ tried to approach me once, hours ago, but he never made it to the dock. He just stood a few feet behind me, watching me. I knew he was trying to make sure I was alright but didn't want to intrude.

My parents went home to grab some clean clothes for me and told me once they'd come back, I was coming home. I had to say goodbye soon.

I didn't want that. If I said goodbye, who knows when I'd see them again.

I heard footsteps behind me. My eyes fly open and I turn my head. It's Pope.

I try to smile but I only make myself start tearing up again. I can see the tears in his eyes too. He's walking towards me, his feet already on the dock.

"Hey." He whispers, his voice scratchy from all the yelling.

I nod at him, not being able to speak. J don't wanna speak in a world where my best friend is not in. It's not fair.

"I wanted to check up on you." He says, sitting down on the dock beside me.

I shrug. I can't speak. I can't say I'm okay and I can't say I'm terrible. Anything would be a lie. I try to speak once out of respect. "Hi." My voice is low and hushed and my vocal chords hurt from all of the yelling.

Pope looks away from me and watches the sun rise. "It's beautiful."

You look back to the sun. "It is."

Pope chuckles, looking like he remembers a fond memory. "I remember this time where I was watching the sun rise with John B. I was nervous for my scholarship and he told me something very profound for a reckless teenager. He said, nothing ever golden lasts. Just like the sun, it will set and the moon will come. Your feelings, they will pass and instead of the bad memories, all you will think about is the good ones. I miss them so much already, but this terrible feeling in your chest will fade. It will never be gone, but it will fade."

Tears slide down my face as Pope speaks. I look to him as he talks and he catches my gaze. This time I smile for real. "Thanks Pope."

Pope pats my back. "As for JJ," he says, looking back at the sun, smirking. "When something terrible happens to him, he distances himself from the people who care about him. We all deal with things differently."

I nod. Pope's right. "Never knew you were a relationship guru." I joke, playfully shoving his shoulder.

Pope smiless and gets up from the dock. He looks down at me and extends his hand. "Never thought a Kook would be my friend but here we are."

I smiled and grabbed onto his hand, letting him pull me up. Once I was on my feet, I opened my arms and gave Pope a hug. We stood there for a moment, just hugging and finally when we pulled away, I speak.

"Thanks so much. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Pope lets go of me and shrugs. "That's what friends are for."

And with that, he's gone. I watch him walk off the dock as I stand there, my legs terribly weak from sitting down for 5 hours. As I watch him go to Kiara and her parents and start speaking to them, something else catches my eyes. At first, since I see it in the corner if my eye, I think it's just a figment of my imagination but then, I turn my head and I see JJ walking towards me. He just exited the first tent and he's looking at me as he walks. I can't make out his expression, even as he comes closer to me. He has his hands in his pockets and he doesn't show any emotion. Finally, when he gets on the dock and closer to me, I see his red eyes. They're basically bloodshot which is probably what my eyes look like. I want to reach out and hug him and tell him he'll be alright but I don't want to scare him off. Pope was right; when JJ is ready, he will come to you.

When he finally is in front of me, he speaks. "Hey." His voice is low and raspy. I can't tell if he's trying to hold back tears or if his voice hurts, or both.

I nod. "Hi."

"I just saw your parents. They brought some new clothes and your phone." JJ says, looking down at his feet and pulling his hands out of his pockets.

I nod again. God, I wish I could say something to help him. "I should go then."

JJ nods. "Yeah..."

I awkwardly nod back and then proceed to turn around and walk away from him. I only get two steps away fro m him until I turn around and speak. "Do you wanna talk?"

JJ was looking at the sea, but as soon as I speak, he looks at me. I can see the tears in his eyes. "I don't think I can."

I nod, taking a step towards JJ and grabbing his hand. "I'm here for you. So is Kiara and Pope. Don't push your family away."

As I say this, tears are sliding not only down my face but JJ's. He doesn't say a word but he embraces me, hugging me tighter than before. We just stand there for god knows how long, hugging eachother and crying into each others shoulders. We don't say anything for a long time. There's nothing to say to make us feel better. Soon, JJ lets me go and brings his hands up to my cheeks. I smile through my tears and try to wipe them away. He's smiling back and crying too. Then, catching me off guard for a moment, he leans down and kisses me on the lips. It's only for a moment and I don't have time to kiss him back.

When he pulls away, he says, "I don't know where I'd be without you."

I smile again, my cheeks hurting. "Probably arrested."

JJ chuckles. "And what would you know about jail, Kook?"

I don't say anything but I stand on my tiptoes and kiss him back, savoring the moment his lips meet mine. "I love you."

JJ's breath hitches in his throat and I can hear him audibly gasp. My eyes fly open. I didn't mean to say it. It was almost as if my lips had a mind of their own. We're not even technically together and I've known him only for not even two days. How can I love him? I don't know but I do.

"Callie..."He whispers, grabbing ahold of both my hands.

I instantly tear the away, embarrassed by what I've said. I've chased him away now. JJ is definitely not the type of person the say that stuff, especially to a girl he's just met. I feel like an idiot. I've ruined something that could've been good.

"JJ, I'm so sorry," I begin to apologize, "I'm such an idiot -"

"Callie..."

"And sometimes I say things without thinking -"

"Callie!" JJ yells, for the second time trying to get my attention.

I instantly stop to hear what he has to say. I brace myself for what could possibly be the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to me.

Finally, when he sees he's got my attention, he speaks, "I love you too."

I instantly smile, this time tears brimming in my eyes. I wrap my arms around his neck and hug him close. He instantly does the same and we're back to hugging each other tightly.

"Callie?" I hear my mother's voice from behind me and I turn around. Her and my father are standing right before the deck, watching their daughter hug a boy they've never met.

Once I see them, I let go of JJ and meet his gaze. He's back to acting pompous, his only defense mechanism when he meets people he doesn't know.

"I'm gonna go into the second tent. Kiara and Pope are there. I'm gonna sleep over at Pope's." He squeezes my hand one last time before walking by my parents and leaving me with them. I stay silent until I watch him enter the second tent.

Then I look to my parents. In my mother's hand, there are a new pair of black jean shorts and this time, an orange tank top. I look down at my dirty and still damp clothes and remember these are Sarah's clothes. I want to hang onto them for a little while longer. If I get rid of these clothes, it's as if I'm getting rid of the memories of her. My dad is beside my mom but there is a few inches between them, telling me they're back to their old shen again. I wonder why they haven't gotten a divorce yet. Love should be simple. It should he easy. My parents marriage was never easier.

Finally, I approach my parents and give them a quick hug before taking the clothes from my mom's arms. We don't say much, just stand there awkwardly.

Finally, my dad speaks, "So, who's that boy?"

I try not to smirk thinking about JJ. "I think he's my boyfriend."

My mom scoffs. "You think? Isn't he a Maybank? You really think -"

"I think," I sigh, cutting my mom off. "That I just lost my two friends and I dont wanna talk about it."

I try to walk past them but I only make it so far before my dad calls out for me. "We have your phone."

I stop and turn around to face them once more. I don't want my phone because I know there will be hundreds of messages from students at school and my family, all asking me about Sarah and John B. and I'm not up for that right now. But, I do have photos of Sarah on my phone and I'd really like to have them to look at. So, against my better judgement, I take the phone from my dad.

"Thanks. I'll get changed and meet you in the car." I fake a smile to them and they nod, walking away from me.

Once they're gone, I finally allow myself to open my phone. The second I do, as I guessed, I am flowed with missed calls and texts. Some people from school ask me if I got the $25,000. Some ask me if I've been kidnapped. Some even ask if Sarah and John B. are still alive.

I start going through my messages. Some of them are contacts from school or my family such as aunts and uncles, and some are unknown numbers. As I scroll and delete messages, I come across a voice mail. It's not a normal phone number, but one you would find if you were on a boat. The number is a four digit code and you've never seen it before. Better yet, they left a voicemail so I click on it to check who it is. I type in my four digit code to access my voicemail and then press play on the voicemail.

"Hey Callie..." it's Sarah. My stomach drops. I look at the time. This is after Shoupe told us they had died. I'm breathing rapidly. Sarah's alive? "I'm here with John B. and I want you to know we're okay. We're gonna be fine. I can't tell you where we're going but I just want to let you know I love you and I'll see you soon. Bye."

I not crying but I so surprised that my legs feel weak. I can't believe it. Once the voicemail ends, I turn off my phone and try to catch my breath. Where is she? Is she still on the boat? Is she on another one? Where are they going? I can't believe that this is happening. Two seconds ago I was mourning my friend's death and now, I just found out they're both still alive.

I instantly think of JJ, Kiara and Pope. I need to tell them. Now.

I run as fast as my feet can carry me. My feet are hurting but I can't stop now. I run up the hill where I was, past the first tent and into the second. Kiara, Pope and JJ are all sitting beside eachother and speaking. No one else is in the tent right now. The second I run in, their eyes look to mine. I'm out of breath and they all look concerned.

"Callie?" Kiara asks, confused as to why I'm out of breath.

"They're alive." I breath out, my breath finally catching up to me.

They all look to each other, confused now. I know they don't believe me. As they look at each other, I open my phone and go back to the voicemail.

I open it and before I can put in my four digit code, JJ speaks, "Callie, what are you talking about?"

I put in my four digit code and put the message on speaker. Once the message starts, I see all of their eyes widen. Kiara grabs onto Pope as Sarah speaks and I can see the tears in JJ's eyes. I grab his hand the second he starts the tear up and he looks at me, smiling. He's not crying because he's sad, it's because he's happy.

Once the voicemail ends, Kiara, Pope, and JJ look at me. They're all smiling. I smile back this time too. This is really happening. They're not dead.

"Oh my god..." Pope says, smiling like a madman.

I was smiling like that too. "I know. They're not dead."

"I can't believe it." Kiara says, smiling at me.

"We can't tell Shoupe." JJ says, looking at all of us. "If he knows they're alive, he'll never stop."

I nod. "Then there's only one thing we can do."

Kiara, Pope, and JJ all look at me, smiling but confused. I couldn't ask for better people in my life.

"What is it?" JJ asks, smiling at me. He reaches for my hand and I smile back, grabbing his hand. I'm so glad he's mine. After everything that's happened, JJ Maybank might just be the best thing to ever happen to a Kook like me.

"We wait until they come back. When they do, we do what we always do: we help our family." I say, smiling at my family.

They smile back.

I don't know what the future holds, but I have my family with me. And that's all that matters.

[completemalum]

You're My Favorite Place

Or alternatively, Four Times Calum Almost Kissed Michael and One Time He Did.

Genre: Fluff, some angst

Rating: Everyone

A/N: This oneshot is basically a collection of mini stories that all kind of connect to each other. Title based off Favorite Place by All Time Low.

2006, Age 10

It was another Michael and Calum Weekend Sleepover, and Michael had woken up crying due to one of his night terrors. Calum was currently cuddling Michael with Michael's face buried into Calum's neck. It wasn't unusual for them to cuddle like this. They usually ended up forgoing their sleeping bags and sharing a bed together. Plus, they were best friends. They saw nothing wrong with sharing a bed. But for some reason, this felt...different to Calum. Calum was no strangers to Michael's night terrors and was always willing to help calm him down. But for some reason, this time he felt like he needed to protect Michael. Which was weird, as Calum was scrawnier and quieter than Michael and Michael was pretty much Calum's bodyguard. And with the way Michael's hand was bunching up Calum's shirt and his nose pressed against Calum's neck, he had a strong urge to kiss Michael. But he told himself no, boys can't kiss other boys. And boys especially can't kiss their best friends. Plus, he liked girls...right? At that moment he wasn't quite sure if he had ever had a crush on a girl. But he didn't want to spend all night contemplating if he liked girls or not. What mattered was that he was there, with Michael. He opted for a quick kiss on the top of Michael's head once he was sure Michael had fallen asleep and cuddled close to him before falling asleep himself.

2008, Age 12

Calum knew two things: 1. He had a huge crush on Michael. And 2. He was bisexual. He learned the term "bisexual" after his older sister, Mali, came out to him about her secret girlfriend. And honestly, he was very comfortable with that label and quite proud about figuring out his sexuality. But of course, Michael didn't know. He couldn't know. Calum was so scared that him telling Michael that he likes boys would scare Michael off because what if Michael somehow found out about Calum's crush on him and didn't want to be friends anymore?? Calum couldn't bear the thought of that. So he kept his thoughts to himself, occasionally sneaking glances at Michael and smiling at the way Michael stuck his tongue out in concentration whenever they played video games together.

Calum was yanked out of his thoughts when Michael announced "It's hot in here, can we go watch TV downstairs or something?"

Calum shrugged "We could go outside and play football."

"Noooo, playing football with you isn't fair, you always win!" Michael whined, flinging himself dramatically onto Calum's bed.

"Now you know how I feel playing racing games with you." Calum retorted with a grin

"Fiiiine." Michael groaned as he got off the bed. Calum grinned and followed Michael downstairs, grabbing the football by the door before stepping into the backyard. "Same goal spots as usual?" Michael asked

Calum nodded and put the football on the ground, gently kicking it with his foot. "Same goals." He grinned before taking off with the ball towards the goal.

"Hey! No fair!" Michael yelled, chasing after Calum. Calum laughed as Michael started catching up with him. But Michael, being clumsy as he was, tripped over his own foot, sending him and Calum tumbling. When they landed, Michael had Calum pinned to the ground. Michael grinned at Calum "Totally meant to do that."

The thought of leaning up and kissing Michael crossed Calum's mind, and he blushed before quickly pushing the thought out of his head. "Uh, let's go inside and grab a snack." Calum hoped Michael wouldn't notice that they only played football for like two minutes.

Luckily, he didn't notice, as he shrugged and said "Okay." Before climbing off Calum and heading inside. Calum groaned softly to himself before following Michael in. Having a secret crush on your best friend is hard.

2011, Age 15

The band 5 Seconds of Summer was officially together, and while they were just a small YouTube channel with a couple hundred subscribers, they were happy to be doing what they were doing. They were about to start band practice at Michael's house. Calum was the first person there as usual, sat in the basement where they rehearsed tuning his bass. Michael came downstairs to join Calum, nervously picking at his nails. Calum looked up and noticed Michael's anxious habit. "You only pick at your nails when you're nervous. Are you okay?" He asked gently.

Michael nodded as he joined Calum on the couch "It's just...I need to tell you something. But you can't tell anyone. Not even Luke and Ashton. I'm not ready to tell them yet." Calum nodded with concern on his face but gestured for Michael to continue. Michael took a deep breath. "I think I'm gay. I've known for a while now...I just finally came to terms with it recently and I'm still having a hard time wrapping my head around it. I just...really hope this doesn't change things between us. I don't want to lose my friend because I like boys." Calum felt his heart leap with joy. He had a chance. Maybe. Michael liked boys so it's a start at least.

He put his hand on Michael's arm "Mike...nothing could change between us. You're my best friend and it'd be dumb if I didn't want to be friends with you anymore because you like boys. I'm really happy for you, thank you for telling me." Calum saw relief wash over Michael's face and he gave Michael's arm a comforting squeeze. God, how bad he wanted to kiss Michael right then. He opened his mouth to give Michael his own confession but right then Luke and Ashton came barreling down the stairs, arguing over some new video game. Calum squeezed Michael's hand before getting off the couch and grabbing his bass. How he wished he had the courage to tell Michael how he felt.

2015, Age 19

Michael was hurt. Bad. A fire cannon had malfunctioned during one of their shows and hit Michael in the face, catching his hair on fire and burning the left side of his face. Calum had gotten burned too while trying to help Michael, but once they were at the hospital he had insisted he was fine, so they put some cream on his arm to soothe the burn and wrapped it up. Ashton was outside making phone calls and Luke went downstairs to the cafeteria to get food. Calum had told Luke that he wasn't hungry and wanted to stay with Michael. Him and Michael sat in comfortable silence for a while before Michael spoke up.

"Cal?" He asked. Calum looked up and his heart broke. Michael's lip was quivering and tears were gathering in his eyes. "What if I have a scar on my face because of this? What if people think I'm ugly?" His voice shook as tears fell from his eyes.

"Mikey..." Calum said softly, standing up to sit on the bed. He put his hand on Michael's cheek and wiped away a tear with his thumb "You could never be ugly. Not to me, at least." Michael smiled softly, leaning into Calum's touch.

"Thank you for being here with me. And holding my hand on our way here. You're the only person able to keep my grounded."

Calum smiled and intertwined his and Michael's fingers and kissed his hand "I'd do anything for you." He still hadn't confessed his feelings to Michael yet, but he had become bolder with his physical affection for Michael and he knew Michael wouldn't think anything of the hand kiss. Before either of them could say anything, Luke came back with food, causing them to part. Calum cast one more longing glance at Michael before helping Luke get the food out.

2018, Age 22

5SOS was in the process of finishing up their 3rd album, Youngblood. They only had a few songs left to record and were recording the song "Why Don't You Love Me" and Michael was singing his solo in the song. All four of them were in the studio that day, but Calum was watching Michael for most of it. But he could've sworn that Michael was staring at him for most of his solo. After Michael finished, their producer suggested they take a break to get lunch. They all started to file out of the room, but Calum gently grabbed Michael's arm to stop him. He shoved his hands in his pockets before saying "Who's the song about, Mike?"

Michael looked taken aback "I-I don't know what you mean..."

Calum scoffed "I know you better than that. Every song you write involves some aspect of your life. You dont just casually write a song like that. And I noticed you glancing over at us. So, who's the lucky guy?"

Michael dropped his head and said in a voice that Calum almost didn't hear "You."

Calum's heart stopped "What?"

Michael sighed and lifted his head "The song is about you. I've been in love with you since we were 16. I wrote this song a few years ago. I'd hoped getting my feelings out would help me get over you, but-"

Michael was interrupted by Calum lunging forward and pressing his lips to Michael's. Michael made a noise of surprise before kissing back. The kiss was desperate and filled with years of unspoken words. Calum's fingers were tangled in Michael's hair and Michael was desperately gripping Calum's shirt. Calum didn't want to pull away, but he finally did when he needed to breathe. He rested his forehead against Michael's as they both panted, trying to catch their breath. After a few minutes, Calum whispered "I've dreamt of kissing you every night for ten years." Michael smiled and rubbed Calum's sides before whispering "I love you, Hood."