#matilda was something I held very close to my heart as a kid

[cutebisexualmess]

I just watched the new Matilda musical and omg

its obviously not the same as the actual musical but it was amazing. It bought back all the cool memories of going to the show when I was around 8 or 9 for my birthday, it was just idk nostalgic? I forgot how much I love these songs and how cool the parts about the escapologist and the acrobat were

[sleeplesssmoll]

Smoltin angst angst angst

The first time vertin ever got a hug or even heard what it meant was after the breakaway incident and after meeting madam Z

You can do with that what you please

In my head, Vertin was a cuddly baby always ready to be picked up and held.

But no one did it unless they had a reason to.

Yet she grew up being physically affectionate, like the gentle way she held Sonetto's hand when she gave her the frog. I don't know if someone taught her that type of tenderness or if she's predisposed to be like that. On the otherhand...perhaps part of Vertin wanted to the person she needed since she had no one. She became the cuddly one because she knows how it feels to be alone. I'm not saying she's the "erg I'm so touch starved so now I'm touchy as hell" stereotype but it could be a sign of affection that was rare for her.

It made her happy, so she wants to share that experience, the same way she wanted so badly to share her love for the outside world and her toffees. Actions speak louder than words and while Vertin is such a smooth talker, she does try to show she cares instead of simply stating it.

I was going to say it is a bit odd for such a young child since being so reflective is something we see in adults. However, she does feel like an old soul in a little body at times, doesn't she? She's an oddity by both human and arcanist standards so we can't really hold her to what we perceive as "normal."

She seems close with Matilda, Isabella, and a few other kids. Mesmer Jr. was fond of her too if we look at dialogue and art. However, we don't know what her childhood was like before then since she was at the Foundation before all of them as the youngest arcanist ever adopted.

It begs the question, who actually raised Vertin in those very early years? Who was her nanny?

Probably A Carbuncle. Absolutely Feral Child with a heart of gold. No mothers, just fluffy Critters 😂

[puffpasstea]

The List

A/N: Hi friends! This is an outtake from chapter 9 of Matilda (which will be posted tomorrow) where they discuss their kinks, their relationship, etc. I hope you like it! Please note that this blurb doesn't affect the plot/ timeline of the main fic. It's just an extra that I originally wrote to be part of the chapter, but I don't quite feel like it's needed. Meaning reading it or not will not change your understanding of the main storyline of the fic. THANKS SO MUCH FOR READING!!! AS ALWAYS: Thoughts, comments, suggestions, feedback all welcome and appreciated!

Warnings: mentions of smut throughout, dom!Harry, angst, fluff ? kinda?

---

I remained on my knees, firmly planted between Harry's thighs my hand on his tiger tattoo, as I watched his stomach rise and fall. He was still struggling to catch his breath after I'd sucked him off and made him cum all over my face.

He had a sweet, loopy grin on his face. I loved learning that Harry was the kind of person who smiles during sex. Especially right before and after an orgasm. A sight I was addicted to. For those moments when he's overwhelmed with pleasure, his dominance is shaky, when his eyes are rolling to the back of his head, his face is flushed, and he can't quite control his moaning and grunting, he's absolutely stunning. And it's an exhilarating feeling to know that I could bring this man to his knees and make him feel good. I couldn't get enough of it.

"c'mon." He tapped the space on the bed next to him. "Lemme return the favor. Your turn now." He giggled and blushed slightly, still high off his orgasm.

"No."

"What did you just say to me?"

"S-sorry, sir. I just mean I don't want you to get me off. Just want you to hold me. Is...Is that okay?"

"Sure. I don't see why not? c'mere..."

He held out his hand to help me up on the bed next to him, and he frowned when I winced at the pain in my knees. "Fuck, I was too excited about you sucking me off I forgot to get you a pillow for your knees. That's such a shitty thing of me to do. I'm so, so, sorry..." He went on rambling and apologizing as I tried to get comfortable in his arms.

"Harry, please! Could you not?"

He ceased with the self-loathing dramatics, tucking me into his arms and placing his chin over the top of my head.

The silence felt good. His arms were the safest place on earth. I closed my eyes, listening to the sound of his breathing and his heart beating in his chest. Unfortunately, though, this comfort was short lived. Harry went back to ranting. "What are we, Matilda?"

I attempted to ignore him. Maybe if he thought I'd fallen asleep or something...

"I just want to know."

Fuck, that beautiful bastard was the most stubborn man I'd ever met. "I don't get your question."

"I mean...you'll suck me off but won't let me wipe my own cum from your face for you, dammit! And you'll let me hold you, but you act like I'm crazy for looking out for your knees...I just...I never know what's okay and what's not around you."

"Can we please not talk about this right now?" I exhaled audibly.

"I think we should make a list."

"A list?"

He peeled himself off of me and ducked his head to meet my eyes with his. "A list. A contract. Like a BDSM thing. for what is or isn't okay."

"A fucking contract, Harold? You're kidding, right?"

"It doesn't have to be a whole contract! And so what if I wanted it to be? I'm not a very good dom if I don't set clear expectations and know your boundaries. I don't want to disrespect or hurt you in anyway. None of that is a joke to me. So, no, I'm definitely not joking!"

Despite the fact that these kinds of direct conversations often made me uncomfortable, I knew that he was right. If I hoped to continue to sleep with him, and to explore more of what we've been doing, I was going to have to have this talk. And the sooner the better.

We took out a note pad, drawing a line in the middle of the page, splitting it in half. One side was mine; the other side was his.

"Let's start small. Stuff we've already done." Harry said, scribbling down some words.

"Praise...and degradation...." I read out, blushing. Of course I knew we'd tried that. I was there when it happened. But addressing it explicitly like that felt weird.

"I would say the same for you! The praise thing I mean."

He laughed. "What? like it when I make you feel good. Can ya blame me?" he placed a quick peck to my lips.

"Do's and don'ts." Harry announced, drawing an extra section on paper.

"Ah, I know!" I took the pen from him and wrote "no love-making. under ANY CIRCUMSTANCES." We both knew this was in reference to Harry whispering "let me make love to you" in my ears after I'd had a bad night as his way of trying to cheer me up. I didn't think emotions needed to be involved so, I shut him down.

"No love-making. Just sex." He repeated the words I'd used on him that night.

"Right."

"Okay, so, we need to talk subspace and subdrop protocols. For me to be the best dom I can be to you, I need to know what you like to have around you in such cases. Tell me everything. No detail is too small. I'm serious, Matilda."

I look up from the sheet of paper to find his piercing gaze watching me carefully with his pen uncapped and in hand, ready to jot down whatever I tell him. It was like he was studying me. Trying to learn me. The earnest way in which he genuinely made every effort to know what made me tick, what made me feel good, what pushed my buttons, what my limits were...it all touched me deeply, but also overwhelmed and scared me immensely. I wasn't used to someone wanting to know that much about me, let alone allowing them to do so.

"I- I don't know, sir." my differential tone surprised both of us. "I've never experienced either of those things before, so I don't really know what I'd need."

"oh, that's okay! We'll just leave this space blank and go back and fill it in if and when it happens. sound good?"

I nodded. "What about you though?"

"What about me?"

"Like what do you like to have done for you?"

Harry was instantly flustered. His hands shook and his face turned bright red. I'd never seen him like this before. He looked nothing like the confident, and often downright evil, man who controlled me hard the time.

"I..guess I just like knowing that you're okay. Whoever I'm with. Like after I beat the shit out of you, I just wanna know that I didn't actually hurt you. And that you enjoyed it. and..."

"And?"

"And I like being the little spoon, ok???" He was almost sweating now.

"I know it sounds dumb. And, look, my aftercare is mostly giving my sub aftercare and making sure everything's alright. lets me know I'm not actually an evil dickhead. So, I'll cuddle you and feed you and do whatever you need me to do cuz I think that needs to be part of my job. Part of our agreement. But when all is said and done...if you could just hold me for a bit? That helps, ok? I'm asking you to be open with me, so it's only fair that I do the same."

Harry clearly felt self-conscious and went round and round talking in circles not knowing when to stop. The whole thing melted my heart so I let him sweat it for a bit longer, enjoying the details that he revealed about his deepest, softest, sides. But I reverted back to the usually mockery to reassure him that nothing would change between us.

"You're never gonna let me live that down, are you?"

Over the next few weeks, the list continued to grow and evolve. We added ideas for things we wanted to try, made sure to note the things we had tried and actually hated, things we did especially well...

tickling anal

2. Bladder control

3. Breath play

4. Foot torture? maybe in the future...

In a matter of days, that sheet of paper -- which we continued to affectionately refer to as "the list"-- had turned into chaos. But I took a million pictures of it and pulled them up often. It was a tangible representation of our amorphous bond, and it brought me a great deal of comfort to remember that it existed. Even on my hardest days.

[obxlife]

Complicated (JJ x Reader)

A/N: I’m back! After like four months of not writing ANYTHING I have finally decided to write something. This idea just popped into my head, honestly, but I think I’ll be taking requests again soon (maybe not, I’m still not sure). Anyways, enjoy!

Pairing: JJ x Reader

Word count: 4385

Request: -

Summary: The ups and downs of your relationship with JJ.

Warnings: Underage drinking, mentions of hooking up and maybe some other sexual acts (NO SMUT). Swearing probably. Oh, also, I tried wirting in third person so let me know if it’s as good as second person!

COMPLICATED

Feelings sucked. Just ask Y/N Y/L/N about it.

The empty cup in her hand weighed her arm down as she rested it upon her knee, her chest and body leaning forward closer to the bonfire that burned before her. Her free hand was tracing random figures onto her thigh, trying but failing to distract her mind from what she was witnessing across the beach.

The kegger was in full swing, and normally by now she would have been at least three drinks in, but her mood had turned sour the instant the rim of her first cup touched her lips.

She didn’t want to talk about it - hell, she didn’t even want to think about it - but JJ was right there in front of her line of sight flirting with another girl from the Cut. And to make matters worse, it was the one girl from the Cut which she couldn’t stand. Her childhood best friend, Matilda Garner. 

Y/N let out a big sigh, which caught Pope’s attention. He turned away from the girl he had been speaking to and looked at Y/N, noticing her frown and the furrow between her eyebrows. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, although he already had figured out the answer. All he did was follow Y/N’s unwavering eyes towards their blond friend.

“Nothing,” she tried to lie knowing she would fail. Pope had always had a way of figuring everything out, which explained why he was the only Pogue that knew exactly what was going on between her and JJ. 

“Y/N...,” Pope began. He didn’t continue speaking until the girl before him removed her eyes from Matilda’s obvious flirting attempts towards JJ. “You should just tell him.”

“Why the hell would I do that, Pope? It would completely ruin our relationship,” she explained. Y/N felt panic rise within her just at the thought of confessing what she truly felt to JJ.

“Look, even if JJ does not feel the same way you feel about him, it would probably make you feel better.”

“That doesn’t make sense at all, Pope,” Y/N replied moving her eyes to the floor. She pretended to count the grains of sand that were seeping through her toes as Pope continued to explain his thoughts on the topic.

“It does too! I just think it’s unfair for you to be carrying this around. He’s totally using you and like, fine, you were using him at first too, but now you feel stuff and you’re hurting.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but I prefer hurting than being without him.”

“Without who?” Kiara’s voice rang behind them. The two teenagers turned around towards the voice, surprised that she wasn’t flirting some Touron up like she normally would. “JJ?”

Y/N groaned. “How does everybody know about me and JJ?”

“That you guys are secretly-not-secretly hooking up?”

The girl groaned again. 

“It is kind of obvious though,” Pope explained. “You guys would randomly leave when we were hanging out and then we could hear you guys through the Chateau.”

“What?” Y/N practically screamed. “I thought we were being quiet though.”

“Think again, Y/N,” Kie said while taking a seat right next to her. “So are you finally going to tell him that you like him?”

The girl in question just rolled her eyes before stepping away from the log where she was perched. She looked towards her blond friend-with-benefits one last time before heading towards the keg, where John B was surely too drunk to ask her about JJ and sober enough to distract her.

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

JJ was nowhere to be seen. It was the third time that week that he skipped the Pogue hang out and the person everyone had expected to know where he was at the moment was just as lost as the rest of them.

“But JJ always tells you where he goes in hopes that you’ll call him to hook up later.”

“Well, I don’t know where he is,” Y/N replied. She hadn’t heard from the blond in about two weeks, ever since the kegger where he had been flirting with Matilda Garner. “He stopped texting me a while back.”

“Really?” John B inquired while looking up from his phone. It chimed once again with a message (probably from Sarah), but he ignored it. “That’s weird.”

Y/N’s furrowed eyebrows showed her slight confusion towards the teenage boy, but this only lasted a few seconds before Kiara declared that they should just leave without JJ.

They didn’t arrive back at the Chateau until the very late afternoon, and both Pope and Kiara rushed off (not without saying goodbye, of course) because they had to help their parents with their respective businesses. John B and Y/N trudged towards the front door as they waved to the other two teens.

“I’m so tired,” Y/N exclaimed as she placed her bag onto the table and the cooler she held in her other hand onto the floor. She opened it up and began to take out the empty beer cans and plastic bottles so that she could throw them out in the recycling bin that Kie had bought a couple of months ago. John B leaned down to help her, leaving his phone on the table next to her bag. 

“Same,” the boy replied. “I did not think that we were going to be out that long.”

The girl was about to speak out her agreement when the back door suddenly burst open and in came JJ with a dazed smile. He didn’t seem to be in any rush to apologize for having skipped out on the afternoon activity he had promised he would attend.

“Hey, man,” John B greeted while Y/N focused her eyes on the can in her hand. She pretended to read the label while she secretly began to listen in on the two boys’ soon-to-be conversation. 

“Hey,” JJ replied almost in a sigh. The toothy grin on his face had not faltered one bit, and Y/N had a feeling she knew exactly what that meant.

Suddenly feeling as if the walls of the fishing shack were closing in on her, the girl grabbed onto her bag and placed it over her shoulder.

“Well, I’m out,” she exclaimed. “Gotta go help my mom out.”

She began to head towards the same door JJ had just entered through a while ago when she was stopped by a hand that wrapped around her arm, just below her elbow.

“Wait, Y/N, I actually wanted to talk to you,” the blond surfer said as if only just realizing she was there. The girl nodded her head and turned to face him, but his eyes darted towards the outside. She knew what that meant, so she turned and exited the small house after saluting John B one last time.

JJ headed straight for the hammocks while Y/N followed suit, wondering what exactly JJ was about to tell her.

“So...,” the boy began. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

The girl rolled her eyes. She wanted to say that it was JJ’s fault that he hadn’t seen her. but instead, she went straight to the point. “What do you want, JJ?”

“Um, so I don’t want you to feel bad or anything because you’re my best friend and you’re really cool,” he rushed, almost as if he had memorized the exact words he was going to say and he was going through them before he would completely forget them.

Y/N ignored the slight pang in her chest she felt at the words ‘best friend’.

“And, trust me, I loved sleeping around with you but we have to stop.”

The girl’s face fell. The blond noticed this.

“It’s not that you’re bad in bed or anything like that. It’s just I really like this girl, I think you know her. Her name’s Matilda and -”

Y/N wasn’t listening anymore. Each word JJ spoke made her feel worse and worse and worse. What was the worst she had ever felt? Now, with JJ confessing his love for her ex best friend. And the worst part about it? She wasn’t even mad at him. He had no clue she was completely in love with him and he had no clue she absolutely loathed Matilda. She was just disappointed in herself. How could she have been so stupid to fall for her best friend?

However, she tried to not let it show on her face. If she were with anybody else, she would not have pulled her act off, but JJ was oblivious and believed everything that was said to him when it came from Y/N.

“That’s fine. I’m really happy for you.”

“Really? That’s great because -”

Once again the girl pretended to listen to his words instead of the sound of her heart breaking. Soon enough, she realized she couldn’t take it anymore, and she interrupted JJ.

“Hey, I’m really tired and I need to go help my mom.”

“Oh, okay. I thought you were staying the night,” he said with a bit of sadness in his eyes. He was almost bursting at the seams with excitement to tell her all about Matilda.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. Tomorrow?”

The boy nodded as the girl finally hugged him and turned around. She wiped the tear that slid down her cheek and promised herself that she would be able to build up her armor again for tomorrow.

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

It wasn’t long before Matilda began to hang around the Pogues and Y/N began to do so less and less. They all knew what was wrong with Y/N except for JJ, who would ask about her every once in a while. He never seemed to get a straight answer.

Meanwhile, Y/N hung out with the Pogues individually in places where she knew JJ wouldn’t be. The library, the ice cream shop right on the edge of the Cut, the church’s parking lot, anywhere. No matter how many months had passed since he got together with Matilda, she just wasn’t over him. She began to believe that she never would be over him.

When school began it became obvious to JJ that she was avoiding the Pogues. She was hanging out with a completely different group of kids, and although JJ didn’t know them, he already sort of hated them for stealing his best friend.

Matilda was a good distraction from this problem though, and JJ never actually had enough time to confront Y/N about it, so he didn’t.

However, when he noticed Marcus Lakes hanging around Y/N more and more often, he began to worry.

Y/N didn’t really think of Marcus as more than a friend though. She was still hung up on JJ, and she really hadn’t spent enough time with Marcus to actually begin to feel anything. In fact, her relationship with Marcus was just a series of coincidences that only amounted to them being partners in many school projects together. Y/N truly believed that once they were over, he would leave her alone. 

But he didn’t. No, instead he spent even more time with her, and although the girl wasn’t used to this type of attention, she enjoyed it. She found herself entranced within the brunett’s conversations and thrilled when he invited her out for dinner.

Soon enough, they were dating, and Y/N had never been happier. For once in her life, she felt like someone’s first choice. She felt great not being a simple replacement or a filler. She loved being important - even if it wasn’t to the boy she still secretly loved.

In all honesty, she knew she would never fully be over JJ. Like ever. But she did truly like Marcus. Maybe even love. And she spent many nights wondering if that made her a bad person. 

She soon concluded that it didn’t. She related her situation to those of adults whose spouses died and they carried on loving both their deceased love and their new living one. The only difference in her case was that JJ wasn’t dead.

After a few months of dating Marcus, Y/N finally built up the courage to hang out with the Pogues again. She felt strong enough to encounter them even if JJ was with them, and besides, Marcus would be there with her.

And so on a cold, winter day, she headed down her dock with her hand entwined with her boyfriend’s before stepping onto John B’s boat. The Pogues all greeted her with hugs as if she had never left, and Y/N understood the underlying message behind them. We get it, they said. You don’t have to say you’re sorry.

The best part of that afternoon was that JJ was there but Y/N soon realized that she wasn’t truly nervous about that. In fact, he had also hugged her as the old friends they had once bee - or maybe still were? Y/N was kind of confused about that. However, she realized that maybe Marcus was actually helping her get over her past love, and she didn’t really mind spending time with the Pogues as she did before.

JJ wasn’t happy though. At all.

For some reason, he was absolutely pissed when he saw Y/N at her dock with Marcus by her side. Why did he have to be there? Marcus wasn’t their friend, Y/N was. And she had no right bringing him. He thought the afternoon was supposed to be a Pogues-only hang out. They had even left Sarah out!

JJ soon realized that the way he was feeling must have been the way the Pogues felt when he brought Matilda along at the start of his relationship. And he realized that they had all sucked the bad feelings up for him and put a smile on their faces. So that was exactly what he did as he greeted Y/N and Marcus.

“Hey, I missed you,” JJ whispered into Y/N’s ear when he hugged her. She giggled and tapped his chest lightly when she pulled back. His heart skipped a beat at that feeling, but he pretended he didn’t feel it.

As she turned away JJ realized that Y/N never said he missed him.

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

In the middle of May, JJ called Y/N near one o’clock in the morning. 

“Hello?” she had asked groggily into the phone.

“Y/N,” he sniffled a bit. The girl piqued up once she realized that he had been crying.

“JJ, what’s wrong?”

“Matilda and I had a fight. I think we’re done.”

Y/N’s heart stuttered, but she forced it to settle down. She instead invited the broken-hearted boy to her house and promised he could stay with her that night.

Y/N, and the rest of the Pogues as well, had seen this break up coming. JJ and Matilda had been fighting for weeks on end, sometimes even inside of the Chateau when they (the Pogues) were on the other side of the walls. Y/N tried to stay awake as she waited for JJ to arrive, knocking on her window as he would do when they used to hook up.

God, that seems like so long ago, the girl thought.

Soon enough, the blond surfer was outside her window, tears still running down his face. He let himself be embraced by his best friend as he cried and cried and kept crying until the very early hours of the morning.

“Thanks,” he whispered when he had finally settled down. He wouldn’t confess this to her, but most of his recent fights with Matilda had been about Y/N. About how she was his best friend and how she always seemed to be around. How Matilda would always bad mouth her relentlessly and about how JJ couldn’t stand or understand that (“Y/N’s so nice, what do you mean I can’t hang out with her?”). Secretly, he was glad his relationship was finally over.

“You’re welcome, J,” she whispered back, eyes barely open. JJ felt his heart bounce in his chest at the nickname he hadn’t heard her call him in so long. A smile stretched across his lips as he buried his face into the girl’s pillows in an attempt to keep his grin hidden from her view.

Before Y/N could fall asleep, she reminded herself that she shouldn’t sleep with JJ in the same bed. After all, she had a boyfriend. So, as slowly as she could, she stood up and grabbed a pillow, placing it on the ground. As she lay across her carpet and grabbed the blanket that was on top of her bed, she heard JJ ask, “What are you doing?”

“Sleeping” she sighed as the quilt fell atop of her body and enveloped her in heat.

“On the floor? Why?”

She hummed softly before speaking in a soft grumble. “I have a boyfriend, J.”

The boy felt really lonely all of a sudden. He wanted to be able to cuddle Y/N like they used to do before he was with Matilda, like when he was sad about his father or some other shit. He didn’t know why he felt almost angry at the fact that he couldn’t hold onto his best friend like he used to.

“So no cuddles like old times?” he asked in an attempt to make Y/N feel guilty enough to join him. But she just shook her head. “I have a boyfriend, JJ.”

JJ tried to come up with something else to get her back in the bed. He didn’t even want to have sex with her, he just wanted to be able to hold her.

“So you’re going to sleep on the floor?”

“Would you rather sleep here?”

“No, but it’s your house,” the blonde tried to be as gentleman-ish as possible.

“Then I’m staying here. Besides, you need the bed more than I do. Your night was pretty rough.”

With that, she turned around and fell asleep. JJ tried to do the same but failed.

The following morning, Y/N was up and out of the house before the blond teenager even woke up. When he finally opened his eyes he read the note she left for him on the bedside table. He groaned when he realized she was going to be out with Marcus for the whole day.

Just great. Fucking great.

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

If there even was a God and he could see JJ now, he’d probably be laughing.

The boy was seated on a log, a red solo cup in his hands, as he stared at Y/N across the beach. His other hand was tracing figures on his thigh as his mind was occupied with what he was seeing. Marcus’s hand was wrapped around her waist as they both dancing. He let out a sigh before Pope turned to look at him, an exact mirror of Y/N’s situation from a year ago. 

“What’s wrong?” Pope asked although he already knew. He had noticed JJ staring at Y/N more often these past few months after he had broken things off with Matilda.

“Nothing,” the blond surfer lied as he brought the cup in his hand up to his lips.

“JJ...”

“I know, I know,” the boy in questions answered before his friend could even speak what his thoughts were on the matter. “She’s with someone else, I get it.”

Pope hummed as he stared at Y/N as well. He noticed how her smile was the biggest he had ever seen it, and he pondered over telling JJ how she had felt just last year about him. 

“You know,” he began to say, still not knowing if it was a good idea to confess what he was going to mention. “She had a thing for you last year. When you guys were hooking up.”

JJ’s eyes widened. “She what? Wait, you know we used to hook up?”

Pope scoffed. “We all knew, JJ. And yeah, she did. That’s why she distanced herself when you got together with Matilda. Well, that and the fact that Matilda used to be her best friend when they were little.”

JJ couldn’t believe it. Everything was making so much sense.

“That makes so much sense.”

Pope just nodded. “Yeah, she was pretty heartbroken about it.”

“Who was heartbroken?” a voice asked from behind them.

The boys turned to find Kiara standing there, with a cup in her hands. She moved to take the spot on JJ’s side that wasn’t occupied by Pope as the dark-skinned boy answered, “Y/N.”

“Last year? Yeah, she was. It’s good she found Marcus though. He makes her happy.”

“I guess,” JJ whispered bitterly.

Kie’s eyes widened when she noticed the blond’s tone of voice. “Don’t tell me you like her now. You do know she was heartbroken about you, right?”

JJ simply rolled his eyes and let out an annoyed scoff. “Yeah, I do now. And karma finally got to me by cursing me with the exact same fate as her.”

His tone of voice was burlesque, and he quickly stood up from the log and headed away from the beach, hoping that he would be able to find John B to distract himself.

Life seemed to have a funny way of working and JJ hated it. What he hated was that everything was just so complicated, and not even his feelings could line up at the same time with the one girl that he finally realized was perfect for him.

He glanced at her once again. Each dance move Y/N executed made him feel worse and worse and worse. What was the worst he had ever felt? Now, with Marcus wrapped around her and him standing far away. And the worst part about it? He wasn’t - he couldn’t - even be mad at her. She had no clue he was completely in love with her. He was just mad at himself. How could he have been so stupid to fall for a girl that was taken?

He did what he did best to forget. He downed the cup of alcohol in his hand.

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

JJ felt like he was in a personal torture chamber except the chamber was the whole island and the torture was Y/N talking about her boyfriend. 

By now, the Pogues had started pitying JJ the same way they had pitied Y/N before she got with Marcus, but this time, they didn’t want to say anything because she was apparently extremely happy with her current boyfriend. 

So JJ just spent most of his days looking at Y/N from afar and trying to ignore Marcus while pretending everything was fine.

And then, finally, after months of being tortured, it all ended.

Marcus had cheated on Y/N. And with no one else but Matilda.

To say she was utterly pissed was an understatement. And honestly, this had surprised her. She originally thought she was going to be completely devasted, but after the first round of tears that came with the shock of finding them in her own bed, Y/N was fine. Just pissed, but other than that, fine.

And JJ? Oh, he was over the moon. He couldn’t believe that everything had lined up so perfectly in his favor that he was finally going to be able to be with Y/N, the girl f his dreams. But just as fast as his happy feeling came, it disappeared when he realized that Y/N’s strategy for moving on was hooking up with Tourons and then telling him about it.

In between all of the madness that followed the weeks after her break up, Y/N never once stopped to think about what she was doing. She spent three weeks absolutely getting wasted at every single party she attended and leaving them with a new boy in her hand. And later, when she washed up once again, she would head straight over to her blond best friend and tell him everything about it, not noticing the sad eyes with which he would listen.

When school started once again, JJ was trying to ignore her in hopes that he would stop listening to her awful hookup stories. And it was around this time that Y/N realized he was avoiding her and how much she truly missed him.

And so once again she began to pin after JJ without him even realizing it. 

As their feelings began to grow once again (because they finally just started hanging around each other without talking about their past sex lives), Pope was the first to notice their heart-shaped eyes and saccharine words. 

And thank God he did, because the two Pogues whose hearts belonged to each other were way too naive to notice.

It had been a random Tuesday night when Pope had spilled the beans and sent JJ into a frenzied rush towards Y/N’s house. His frantic pounding on her window pulled her out of her studying as her wide eyes locked with him. She opened the window and let the boy she loved inside, smiling at him in greeting and putting a finger up to her lips.

Before she could actually talk, however, the boy kissed her, taking her by such surprise that she almost bit down on his lip. Luckily, she caught herself before she did so.

And as their lips touched each other and her eyes closed, she swore she could see the entire universe. Every star and every light shined before her while her thin arms wrapped around the back of his neck and cherished the moment she had been craving for since she had fallen in love with JJ once again. Her stomach was doing jumping jacks and burpees just as JJ’s tongue began to dance across her own. When they finally surfaced for air, JJ bit her lip as softly as he could before opening his eyes and staring right back into hers.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for like, seven months now.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Why don’t you do it again?”

And so he did. Again and again and again.

That night, after they had undressed and shown each other just how in love they truly were, Y/N sighed in happiness and relief that their relationship would never have to be complicated again.

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

A/N: I was loving this fic but then it just became sort of meh, but I feel like I have to post it because I still like it, you know?

[love-and-monsters]

Wyvern Prince 11

Happy Valentine’s Day! I hope you enjoy the next installment of the Wyvern Prince. Next week I’ll be doing something for Faebruary, so stay tuned for that.

As it turned out, the castle was far less complicated than the winding series of tunnels that made up Davrakoss’ home. At the very least, in the castle you could see.

It took almost thirty minutes of walking before you realized that you should have been back to your room already. And thirty minutes later, when you were supposed to be back to where you started, you realized that you were entirely lost.

You spent several minutes trying not to panic. There was no real reason to panic. Davrakoss would find you eventually; you found it hard to believe that he would leave without you. But being alone in the dark started to grind down your calm very quickly. You sat down against one of the walls and started taking deep breaths.

“Sara!” Davrakoss’ voice echoed through the tunnel. Footsteps crunched on the loose stone and dirt of the floor. “Sara!”

You stood, stumbling as you tried to feel your way through the pitch black. “Davrakoss!”

“Sara!” The footsteps slowed, but kept approaching. It was hard to tell where he was; you’d never had a terribly good sense of hearing. You stretched your fingers out in the dark, trying to locate him.

A hand caught your own. Despite half-expecting it, you still yelped. “It’s me!” Davrakoss said hurriedly. “It’s just me.”

You clung to his hand, stepping awkwardly closer to him. He took your other hand. “Are you all right?” he asked. His voice was warm with concern.

“Fine. I’m sorry I made you come after me. I truly thought I could make my way back,” you said.

“It’s all right.” Davrakoss squeezed your hand and rested his other hand on your shoulder. “It’s okay.” He huffed out a breath. “I was so worried when I couldn’t find you! I should have thought, I forgot humans can’t see in the dark.”

“It was my fault. I should have waited for you.” Your voice had been wrangled back into perfect calm.

“It was no one’s fault,” Davrakoss said. “I’ll lead you back.” His hand tightened around yours. “There aren’t any lights down here, so you’re going to have to wait for a little until you can see again.” He started walking, gently pulling you along with him. You stumbled slightly, uncertain of your footing in the pitch black.

You were very aware of that fact that Davrakoss was holding your hand. His palm was warm and soft and you could feel the tips of his claws tickling slightly against your skin. In fact, the longer you were in the dark together, the more aware you were of his presence next to you. There was no one else, no risk of anyone in the castle seeing you. It was only you and him. Your heart thundered, crawling into your throat. A trickle of sweat dripped down the back of your neck, despite the slight chill in the air.

One of your feet caught on a dip in the ground and you stumbled. Davrakoss was nearly dragged down on top of you as you fell. “Apologies, sire,” you said, instinctively bowing in the dirt.

“I’ve been through worse,” he said. “Get up.” He took your hand and hauled you to your feet. “I should really be more careful too. It’s not your fault you can’t see.” He brushed his hands along your collar and front, apparently trying to clear off dirt. The casual touch made your heart lodge firmly in your throat, choking off your breath. “Oh, dear.”

“What?” you managed around the lump in your throat. His fingers were suddenly at he hem of your dress, lifting it up and you felt the ground sway under your feet.

“There’s a tear here. It must have caught when your fell.” He lifted his fingers under the dress, testing the rip. “It ruined the lace.”

“It’s all right,” you said. “I can sew it back together.” Davrakoss let the dress fall back into place and stood.

“Here, let me take your hand again- oh!” He removed his hand from yours. “You’re bleeding!”

You hadn’t even noticed, but there was a gouge in your hand from where you’d caught yourself. “Apologies, Davrakoss. I didn’t notice.”

“Don’t apologize to me! Doesn’t it hurt?” He seized your hand again, this time holding your palm up. “Let me.” He pressed his mouth gently to your palm. An odd sensation rushed up through your chest, a sort of light, fluttering feeling that made you feel pleasant all over. “There,” Davrakoss said, pulling away. “Is your other hand hurt?”

“No.” You had taken the brunt of the fall on that hand. The other one was just skinned.

“Good.” Davrakoss brushed his thumb over your hand. The touch was simple and gentle and you’d never quite felt anything like it before. Your heart was no longer in your throat, but it was pounding hard enough to shake your body.

“We should keep moving.” Your voice felt like it had come from someone else. It was completely steady and neutral.

“Of course,” Davrakoss said, sounding a little startled. He took your hand again, drawing you close to him. “We’ll take it slower this time.”

This time, your pace through the dark was quite leisurely. Davrakoss linked his arm through yours, holding your close to him. Presumably it was to catch you if you fell. Practically, you felt like you were far too aware of his contact with you. It felt entirely too casual and entirely too good. You couldn’t get used to this, you kept having to remind yourself. He was a prince and you were not. This was not going to be something that would continue.

But still. You could enjoy it in the meantime, right?

Relief washed over you when you saw the light at the end of the tunnel. You pulled away from Davrakoss, ignoring the twinge of regret in your chest. He followed you as you stepped out into the flickering firelight. “We still need to go back to your room,” he said. In the light, you could see that he seemed a little tired, but the smile on his face was genuine.

“Are you in trouble with your parents?” you asked as he fell into step next to you.

“A bit. They aren’t going to do much, but they are going to keep a close eye on me.” He shrugged. “Nothing too awful. Although…” His eyes shone as he looked at you. “You impressed them a lot.”

“How so?”

“My mother’s very good at compelling the truth from people. I suppose it’s a skill she’s developed over the years of judging wyverns. It can be a little much for humans, I’ve heard, but you did very well!” He nudged your side. “She was very pleased, I could tell.”

“I’m glad to have earned her approval,” you said. “I only spoke the truth.”

“I know.” Davrakoss’ voice softened a little. He looked at you for a long moment, then turned his head aside.

“If it isn’t too personal,” you began, trying to dispel the tension that had blossomed in the air, “what did your parents wish to speak to you about?”

He brightened at that. “They were informing me they are planning on having a new egg.”

“Your mother is pregnant?”

“Not yet. Wyvern females need certain conditions in order to lay a new egg. She’s been busy enough since I was hatched that my parents have deliberately kept the conditions so she won’t lay another. Now, though, she’s been considering another hatchling, so they’re planning on altering conditions to make her lay. Simple as that.”

“I am happy for you,” you said. “A younger sibling is exciting.”

Davrakoss glanced at you, gaze full of curiosity. “I’ve never asked. Do you have any siblings?”

You laughed. “I do. I’m the oldest of five.”

“Five!” Davrakoss repeated, eyebrows lifting. “Really?”

“It’s not that large,” you said, defensive at his obvious surprise. It wasn’t that large, not really. Your neighbors had nine children, after all.

“Four would be unusual for a wyvern couple,” he said. “I thought… well, the royal family doesn’t have that many.”

“No, most nobles have less kids. They can afford to have less kids. They can get medicines that stop them from conceiving and they don’t need to worry about diseases as much.” Your voice dipped into bitterness toward the end. Davrakoss looked at you, waiting for you to say more, so you did. “I used to be the oldest of seven.”

“Oh.” His voice was soft and startled, like you’d physically knocked the noise out of him. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t remember the baby. He was born two years after me. But Matilda was the fifth and she was seven when she died. She fell off a horse. She didn’t look injured, but she died in the night.” The words spilled out of you, unstoppable. “I didn’t know anyone who hadn’t lost a sibling or a child until I moved to the castle.”

With a soft wumph, Davrakoss rushed into you, enveloping you in a hug. It was tight and soft at the same time. His cheek pressed to the top of your head. One of his hands cupped your back. The other nestled itself in your hair. Startled, you held your hands up and slightly out, uncertain if you should hold him back.

He didn’t say anything and then kept not saying anything. His thumb brushed along the back of your head, through your hair. The softness and warmth of his cheek radiated into your skin. Slowly, you rested your hands on his back. He squeezed tighter. Not uncomfortably, but just a little more securely. Davrakoss was a good hugger. It was easy to feel secure when you were so close to him. And you didn’t need to worry about anyone else seeing you. A weight slid off of you as you leaned into his touch.

After a few moments, Davrakoss let his grip loosen. He stepped back a little, hands still resting on your shoulders, but with enough distance that he could look down into your face. “Feeling better?” he asked.

It was strange, but you were. The touch had been enormously soothing, like applying balm to a raw wound. “I think so.”

“Good.” He lowered his hands. His tail brushed gently against your leg. “I feel as though this is something I should have known about sooner.”

“There’s no need for you to know. Most nobles never concern themselves with the personal lives of their servants.”

“Ah, but you should know by now that I am not a normal noble,” he said, starting to walk again. You kept pace with him. “You already know much about me. It’s only fair that I know a little about you as well.”

It was hard to come up with an argument for that. You just dipped your head respectfully. “As you wish, sire.” He glanced at you. “Davrakoss.” His smile returned, sweet enough to make your heart stutter. You felt heat creeping into your cheeks and quickly looked away so he couldn’t see it.

After finding the light again, it only took a few minutes to find your way back to your room. Davrakoss had no issue working his way through the tunnels at all, not an ounce of hesitation. Was there something about the tunnels that only he could sense? It would make sense, you supposed.

“We’ll be flying back tomorrow,” he said as you sat down to look through your bags. “My father asked me to go hunting with him, so I’ll be out for a while. Are you going to be okay on your own?”

“I’ll be fine,” you said. Davrakoss smiled and squeezed your shoulder for a moment before leaving the room. You settled down with your sewing kit and began to stitch the massive tear back together.

The tear was easy to stitch together, but you found yourself fussing with it regardless. You’d learned to embroider when you were young, but ever since becoming a servant, you’d had little time to continue the hobby. Under the firelight, you used the black thread to embroider a small flower pattern up along the tear.

Time turned fluid as you focused on the pattern. You could only see it under the flickering firelight, so you had to hold it to your face and squint. Still, gradually, you could see the shapes of flowers along a vine stretching out along the tear. The pattern wasn’t noticeable from a distance, but you would always know it was there. It felt oddly nice, like a little reminder of the time you’d spent in Davrakoss’ home.

“Sara.” Fingertips touched your shoulder and you whirled around. Davrakoss smiled at you. His hair tumbled around his face in a pale golden waterfall. “I brought you some food.”

He sat down next to you, offering food on an old, silver tray. It was mostly an assortment of berries and fruits one could find in the forest, along with a hunk of venison that had, to your relief, been cooked. “Thought it was an interesting change of pace,” he said.

“You don’t want anything, s- Davrakoss?” you asked.

“I ate during hunting,” he said. He pointed at the venison with a claw tip. “That’s actually from the deer I killed.”

You weren’t entirely sure what to make of that, but he seemed proud, so you made noises of appreciation. The meal wasn’t entirely bad, but it was sort of obvious that wyverns didn’t cook all that often. There was no seasoning and the meat was partially overcooked in some areas and undercooked in others. Davrakoss watched you as you chewed on it. “Is it all right?” he asked.

“It’s good,” you replied tactfully. He beamed.

“I’m glad.” His voice was warm enough to heat you from the inside out. When you finished, he took the tray and you took the opportunity to get changed into your sleep clothes.

When he returned, you were already curled up under a blanket. “Good night,” he called across the room to you.

“Good night, Davrakoss,” you responded. You heard a faint rushing noise and when you lifted your head, you could see that he had changed into his wyvern form. He settled down close by, tail only a foot or so away from you. As you drifted off, you could see one of his eyes on you, sleepy, but still intent.

Davrakoss woke you early in the morning. “We should be off soon,” he said. “Are you ready to go?”

You’d unpacked precious little and so you only needed to change and put away your blanket to be ready to leave. Davrakoss shifted to his wyvern form and made sure you were nestled safely in the crook between his neck and his wings before he started heading up the tunnel.

His parents were waiting for him at the entrance of the cave. They leaned their necks over his, tangling their heads together. “I’ll miss you,” Davrakoss said.

“As we miss you, my son,” Queen Kandolva said. She turned her head to look down at you. “I thank you for your service to Davrakoss.”

You bowed as best you could while seated on a wyvern’s back. “I was merely doing my job.”

“Regardless. You have done a great service to him.” She lowered her head to your level. “I thank you.”

Davrakoss made a low rumbling noise. “We should go, mother.” They touched muzzles for a moment, then Davrakoss launched himself off the side of the mountain.

There was a moment of terror as you fell, then Davrakoss’ wings opened and the ground receded. He rose up until the trees looked like a soft fuzz of grass beneath you, then settled into a glide.

You sat back, letting the wind whip through your hair as you stared down at the ground below. The flight allowed for your mind to wander. And you weren’t entirely sure you liked where it went. It kept circling back to Davrakoss. An unsettling amount of times. You couldn’t stop thinking about his hand around yours, his gentle eyes as he smiled at you. It was impossible to stop thinking about it.

That was a problem.

You recognized the feeling. It wasn’t the first time you had felt it. And the last time you had felt it, you had been stupid. Way, way too stupid. Stupid enough to do something about it.

This time, you were going to do something about it too. You were going to do the thing you had learned how to do, the best thing to do when you started getting crushes on nobles: ignore it until it went away. And it would go away, eventually. Davrakoss would never know your feelings and he would never get the opportunity to hurt you.

You leaned back down over his back and carefully shoved away the ache that swelled in your chest.

[isidar-mithrim]

Letters from Hogwarts – Hermione

For more than a thousand years, every summer, in the United Kingdom, the lives of a lucky cluster of eleven years old are radically changed.

These are the stories of four of them.

The fourth is that of a girl rational enough to know she was special, but too rational to admit it.

{Fourth installment of the ‘Letters from Hogwarts’ series, but it stands alone}

{‘Letters from Hogwarts’ on tumblr: Neville, Gus and Remus; on Ao3: Neville, Gus, Remus and Hermione}

________________________________

Thanks so much to @siderumincaelo for betaing this story!! ^^

And happy birthday, Hermione! :D

This is a companion piece of  Night in Transylvania (on Ao3), but the stories can be read independently and in whichever order you prefer.

_________________________________

Of Matilda, War and Peace

°1985°

“Excuse me, are you the librarian?”

The man with the white beard behind the counter raised his head, offering Hermione a radiant smile.

“I am,” he said with a little bow. “At your service, milady.”

“I’m looking for a book, sir.”

He winked. “You’re in the right place, then. Do you remember how it’s called?”

“Well, I’m not looking for a specific one, just for one with a real story. I can’t keep reading books for little kids with pictures and nursery rhymes anymore.”

The librarian chuckled with amusement. “You are a bright kid, aren’t you?”

“And a very particular one,” said her mum with a smile, caressing her hair. “It turns out that Elmer the Patchwork Elephant is too simple for her.”

“I finished it in thirteen minutes!” It was obvious that she would have found it simple.

“Well, I’m sure we’ll manage to find a real book that suits you.” The librarian walked around his desk with a delighted expression and gestured for them to follow. “Come, I’ll show you the junior section.”

Hermione nodded, pleased, and she followed him over the stairs, making an effort to keep up with his steps.

“So, young lady, may I ask you how old are you?”

“I’m five years and a half old,” she answered promptly, her chin held high.

The librarian turned toward her, his eyes wide in surprise. “Five years and a half? Then you’re even smarter than I thought!”

“I’m the only one in my classroom that can read proper books,” said Hermione, happy to clear things out. “The other girls still play with their Barbies.”

“Once in a while you could play with them too, Hermione.” Her mum gave her a gentle smile. “There’s nothing wrong in it, and books don’t run away.”

“Oh, well, sometimes our books do!” said the librarian with mirth. “One day they vanish, and they never come back.”

Hermione’s heart missed a beat, and she swallowed hard. “ Vanish? You mean… into thin air?”

Her mum squeezed her shoulder, but the librarian chuckled again. “More like at somebody’s place. I’m afraid not everyone remembers to bring back the books on loan, but I’m sure this won’t be your case.”

Hermione’s heart calmed down. There was nothing to worry about: books couldn’t just vanish in thin air. Nothing could: her teacher had said it very clearly when Julia had made up that her Barbie had suddenly disappeared while she was playing.

“And here we are! This is our junior section.”

Only the label at the entrance distinguished it from the rest of the library: there were shelves upon shelves filled with books, real books, and Hermione nodded in approval.

“Give me a minute to pick something that might intrigue you, then you’ll tell me which story appeals to you the most, okay?”

Hermione stared in awe while the librarian checked rack after rack, grazing the covers with his fingers in search of the right title. Once in a while he stopped to pull out a book: sometimes he nodded satisfied and held it under his left arm, other times he put it back, shaking his head.

He seemed quite pleased when he finally came back to her, laying four books on a little table.

“Et voilà!”

The old man took the first book and showed her the front cover, a picture of a beautiful girl with an aquamarine dress.

“Swan Princess. It’s about a princess cursed by an evil sorcerer and –”

“I’m sorry, but I’ve already seen the animated movie,” cut in Hermione. “And I don’t want a princess story, anyway.”

The librarian raised his eyebrows, taken aback. “No princesses?”

Hermione shook her head, making her bushy hair dance in front of her eyes, and he chuckled with amusement.

“I reckon I should have seen it coming,” he said good-naturedly, winking at her mum. “Now I understand why you said you have a particular daughter.”

Mum smiled. “I knew you’d agree, eventually. I should have warned you that at the moment princesses aren’t her cup of tea.”

Hermione huffed, annoyed. How many times did she have to explain to her mum that she didn’t like that kind of stuff anymore? “It’s not my fault if princess stories are all the same.”

“I can see your point,” agreed the librarian. “I won’t waste your time suggesting this novel, then.” He moved the second book at the bottom of the pile and picked the third one. “This is The Secret Garden. It’s about a girl that finds out how to sneak into a garden and starts exploring it with her friend Colin. What do you say, think this might suit you?”

Hermione studied carefully the drawing on the cover. In the middle of the page, a girl with curly blonde hair and a red coat was peering through a hedge.

“Maybe,” she conceded with a hint of curiosity. She wanted to see the last book as well, before making a decision.

The librarian clapped his hands cheerfully. “Particular, and prudent! In all frankness, I think you’re right to be cautious, because it’s time to see my fourth – well, third – recommendation.” He leant closer and spoke in a whisper, his hand around his mouth as he was confiding her a secret. “And I assure you it’s no coincidence that I kept it for last.”

He held the book in front of her with a certain reverence. A girl with straight brown hair and fair skin sat on a wooden box with a big volume opened on her legs, and piles and piles of coloured books rose from the ground around her.

And just like that, Hermione knew.

“It’s the story of –”

“I’ll take this one.”

The librarian gave her a bright smile. “I knew you’d pick Matilda. Or maybe I should say the book picked you…”

°1991°

June

“It’s about a witch that falls in love with a vampire, and there are werewolves too! It’s amazing.”

“Thanks, Fardly,” said Mrs Stendeer, writing down the title on the blackboard. “Granger?”

“Well, I believe spending the summer reading about children’s fantasies such as sorcerers, unicorns and vampires would be a real waste of time, since these things don’t exist,” stated Hermione. “I’d rather suggest trying out War and Peace. A light reading, I finished it in eight days.”

The teacher gave her a strained smile before writing the title below Night in Transylvania, then she turned again toward the class.

“Mitchell, what do you propose?”

“So, how many votes for Night in Transylvania? Five… ten… Castark, is that a raised hand? Then thirteen… fifteen… twenty-one!” Mrs Stendeer wrote down the number beside the title. “It seems you were very convincing, Fardly.”

Hermione huffed loudly, trying at the same time to convey all her disapproval and to ignore the excited giggles of her classmates.

“Now, how many votes for War and Peace?”

It was definitely harder to remain indifferent to the scornful laughs that broke out when she raised her hand, but Hermione held her arm up until the teacher had written ‘one’ beside War and Peace.

When the last bell of the year rang in the halls, her classmates screamed like little kids and rushed to the door, shoving each other in their haste to leave.

Hermione looked away and her eyes caught the line she had just written down.

Homework for the summer: read ‘Night in Transylvania’ by Stacey Moore.

She slammed her homework planner shut and shoved it in her packed schoolbag. After standing up, she slung the heavy backpack on her shoulders, adjusting the straps to balance the weight better.

“Have a good summer, Mrs Stendeer,” she said with cold courtesy.

“Thank you, Hermione.” The teacher took a deep breath, and for a moment Hermione thought she was about to add something meaningful.

She was clearly wrong, though, because “Good summer to you too,” was everything Mrs Steender deigned to add.

Hermione gave her with a curt nod, and walked out of the door.

Jayne was twelve years old and she had long black hair, intense blue eyes and a petite figure. In short, on the surface she was a girl like every other, if it wasn’t for a tiny detail.

Jayne was a witch.

While the other mothers taught her friends how to cook, her mum made her brew magic potions; while her classmates learned to dance, she studied spells to move objects. While normal girls’ only worry was not to get their clothes dirty, she trained to hunt vampires.

Hermione closed the book with an abrupt thump.

She hadn’t finished the first page yet, and she already hated it.

How silly, she thought with deep annoyance. Nobody can move objects without touching them. Nobody, not with their thoughts, not with magic.

“Magic doesn’t exist,” she said through gritted teeth. Of that she was sure: magic only existed in books – books for stupid kids.

Six days had gone by since the last time Hermione had opened Night in Transylvania, but now that she had finished Les Misérables she had run out of excuses to procrastinate her assigned reading.

She took the book from her bedside table and sat down at her desk. She usually read on her bed, but she wasn’t going to qualify something this insipid as ‘reading’.

It’s homework, Hermione told herself. And homework shouldn’t be done in bed.

After finding where she had left off, she heaved a long, resigned sigh and began reading.

Because that was her family’s specialty. Hunting vampires was an art they passed on from mother to daughter for generations, and it would continue until all the vampires in Transylvania were eradicated.

Her mother had very similar features: she had the same bushy brown hair, the same hazelnut eyes and even the same protruding front teeth.

Hermione froze, her heart beating loudly inside her chest. Her eyes feverishly skimmed over the last sentence and then went back to gaze at the first lines.

Hermione was eleven years old and she had bushy brown hair, intense hazelnut eyes and protruding front teeth. In short, on the surface she was a girl like every other, if it wasn’t for a tiny detail.

Hermione was a witch.

She dropped the book like it was burning hot, and jumped from her chair in shock when it actually caught fire.

“Please, go out, go out!” she squealed, horrified. “Please, please, stop!”

A moment later, there was only a pile of ashes on the unmarked desk.

Hermione looked at it in bewilderment, her breath still ragged.

As if by magic, the little fire had died out, even faster than it had flared up.

No, not by magic, rectified Hermione, taking a deep breath. The fire extinguished itself only after consuming the whole book, or maybe the wind put it out.

And yet, the window was closed. Hermione opened it to let in fresh air, even if she couldn’t sense any burning smell, then she lifted her bin near the edge of the desk and swept the ashes inside with trembling hands, fighting the urge to wipe her silent tears.

This time it was going to be much harder to persuade herself that it was all a dream.

°1985°

By the age of one and a half her speech was perfect and she knew as many words as most grown-ups. The parents, instead of applauding her, called her a noisy chatterbox and told her sharply that small girls should be seen and not heard.

By the time she was three, Matilda had taught herself to read by studying newspapers and magazines that lay around the house. At the age of four, she could read fast and well and she naturally began hankering after books. The only book in the whole of this enlightened household was something called Easy Cooking belonging to her mother.

Hermione was immediately won over by Matilda’s incredible abilities.

I wish I was that clever, she thought with a hint of envy.

An instant later, though, she felt terribly guilty. It must have been horrible for Matilda to have parents like that.

One and half pages later, Hermione had understood two things.

One, that her next book had to be The Secret Garden, since Matilda herself had read it.

Two, that she didn’t want to be Matilda anymore.

She would have much, much preferred having her as a friend.

That afternoon Hermione devoured page after page without ever stopping, except to write down the books Mrs Phelps recommended.

As she read, she was indignant over the dishonesty of Matilda’s father, warmed by Miss Honey’s kindness, enraged by Trunchbull’s hammer throw, impressed by Bruce Bogtrotter’s resilience, and when dinner time came, she hadn't even realised she was hungry.

Hermione ate in a hurry and then crawled under the covers.

She was laying on her stomach with the book on the pillow when the story took an unexpected turn.

Slowly Matilda sat down. Oh, the rottenness of it all! The unfairness! How dare they expel her for something she hadn’t done!

Matilda felt herself getting angrier . . . and angrier . . . and angrier . . . so unbearably angry that something was bound to explode inside her very soon.

The newt was still squirming in the tall glass of water. It looked horribly uncomfortable. The glass was not big enough for it. Matilda glared at the Trunchbull. How she hated her. She glared at the glass with the newt in it. She longed to march up and grab the glass and tip the contents, newt and all, over the Trunchbull’s head. She trembled to think what the Trunchbull would do to her if she did that.

The Trunchbull was sitting behind the teacher’s table staring with a mixture of horror and fascination at the newt wriggling in the glass. Matilda’s eyes were also riveted on the glass. And now, quite slowly, there began to creep over Matilda a most extraordinary and peculiar feeling. The feeling was mostly in the eyes. A kind of electricity seemed to be gathering inside them. A sense of power was brewing in those eyes of hers, a feeling of great strength was settling itself deep inside her eyes. But there was also another feeling which was something else altogether, and which she could not understand. It was like flashes of lightning. Little waves of lightning seemed to be flashing out of her eyes. Her eyeballs were beginning to get hot, as though vast energy was building up somewhere inside them. It was an amazing sensation.

The description was written so well that even Hermione could feel that warm, electric sensation in her own eyes. She went right back to reading, filled with curiosity.

She kept her eyes steadily on the glass, and now the power was concentrating itself in one small part of each eye and growing stronger and stronger and it felt as though millions of tiny little invisible arms with hands on them were shooting out of her eyes towards the glass she was staring at.

“Tip it!” Matilda whispered. “Tip it over!”

She saw the glass wobble. It actually tilted backwards a fraction of an inch, then righted itself again.

She kept pushing at it with all those millions of invisible little arms and hands that were reaching out from her eyes, feeling the power that was flashing straight from the two little black dots in the very centres of her eyeballs.

“Tip it!” she whispered again. “Tip it over!”

Once more the glass wobbled. She pushed harder still, willing her eyes to shoot out more power. And then, very very slowly, so slowly she could hardly see it happening, the glass began to lean backwards, farther and farther and farther backwards until it was balancing on just one edge of its base. And there it teetered for a few seconds before finally toppling over and falling with a sharp tinkle on to the desk-top. The water in it and the squirming newt splashed out all over Miss

When Hermione moved her gaze to the next word, a patch of water started expanding on the page, blurring all the letters.

Hermione looked at it with horror. The book from the library! she thought in despair, blowing on the paper in the faint hope to make things better.

Dry up, dry up, please dry up!

That’s when the book caught fire.

Hermione squealed and threw it on the ground, grabbing a slipper and hitting the book with it. Go out, go out!

With a last hit, the fire went out.

Hermione leant against her bed to catch her breath, but any chance to calm down vanished as soon as she saw the state the book was in. How am I going to explain it to the librarian? she wondered with anguish.

A moment later, she heard the door opening, and with a quick push she sent the book beneath the bed before her mum could see it.

“Hermione!” she exclaimed with worry, rushing at her side to help her get up and gently rubbing her back. “What happened, darling?”

“Just… just a dream.” Hermione’s voice was trembling, in part because of what happened, in part because of the lie and the ruined book hidden beneath her.

“Did you fall from the bed?”

“I… I think so...”

“Don’t worry, honey. Everything is fine now.” She gently kissed her forehead, and Hermione felt a bit relieved. “Now get under the covers, so I can tuck you in.”

Hermione lay on her side and hugged the pillow, letting Mum fuss over her. Her heart was still pounding, so she made a conscious effort to breathe slower. Even if her mind kept running to the ruined book beneath the bed, Mum’s soothing caresses helped her calm down.

She was finally drifting off when Mum kissed her forehead and stood up.

“What is this?” she asked a moment later, reaching down to grab something at her feet.

Hermione jerked awake and watched in horror while her mother picked up the book.

When Hermione saw it, though, her horror turned into astonishment.

Mum smiled knowingly, glancing at her bedside lamp. “You fell asleep while reading, didn’t you?” She held the undamaged copy of Matilda in front of her. “Would you like me to read it to you until you fall asleep?”

Hermione shook her head, unable to speak.

“Good night, then,” wished Mum, before turning down the lamp and leaving the room, closing the door behind her with a low click.

As soon as the sound of her steps faded away, Hermione turned on the light, eager to understand how the book could look as new.

She grabbed it and turned it over in her hands, flippin through the pages: not a patch of water, not a single word washed-out, not a corner blackened by the fire.

The book looked as if nothing had happened.

She focused on the cover, and froze when she recognised herself as the girl of the picture. She shut her eyes, and a moment later Matilda was back, lost in thought.

Clearly, it had really been just a dream… After all, only in fairytales little girls were smart enough to make things happen with their mind.

In that instant, Hermione decided that the next time she would give the librarian even more specific instructions: no princesses and, most importantly, no magic.

[ourloveisforthelovely]

Time to Waste 8

Good Omens 

A/n: special thank you to @brokencasbutt67-writer for all of your help 

Link to Chapter 7

Words: 4,336 (haha) 

Pairings: Gabriel x Reader/Crowley x  Aziraphale

______ 

The next morning Aziraphale stood in the kitchen finishing up some of his last moment packing. He smiled when Crowley walked in and plopped himself down at the table.  “Have all of your things ready?” Crowley scowled up.  “Aziraphale, we are only going for a week. We don't need to travel like we are going on some grand roadshow.”  Aziraphale smiled and finished the cup of ginger tea that he made for you. He expected that you would start feeling ill soon. Ginger tea would fix that problem right up.  As he stirred the tea, Aziraphale’s thoughts turned to Gabriel. The archangel still hadn’t come back since the argument. This had to be the worst one yet!   “Crowley, can you go make sure that Y/n is up and ready? We have to be leaving soon”

Crowley stood with a huff.  “She is so grumpy in the morning. Remind me to thank Gabriel when he gets back for ruining my kid's lovely mood.” Aziraphale smirked innocently.  “It will be over soon.”  Crowley walked out of the room whining about how he was going to go hide until the kid turned up. Aziraphale  went back to his tidying up until he heard Crowley shout. It took Aziraphale a second to be in your room.  “Crowley! What is it?”  Crowley pointed around the room.  “Y/n is gone!”  Aziraphale looked around the room in a panic. The room was spotlessly clean and as if no one had been staying in it.  “Where could she have gone?!” Aziraphale squeaked. Crowley walked around the room before sinking down onto the sofa. He put his face in his hands before looking up.  “I have no idea! This is bad, Aziraphale! Y/n is out there where anyone could get their hands on her.”  Aziraphale frantically tapped his hand on the dresser.  “We have to tell Gabriel.”  Crowley looked up with a frown.  “Do we have to get him involved? Every time that angel shows up all hell breaks loose. First, Y/n  gets pregnant with some heathen child. Now she's run away after he called her a slut. I have a real problem with that too!” Aziraphale held his hands up.  “Of course you do.! I do too but right now we need to focus on finding Y/n before someone else does.” Aziraphale closed his eyes and called for Gabriel to come as quickly as possible. When his eyes opened, Aziraphale almost yelled when he realized that Gabriel was standing beside him.  “You called?” Gabriel replied. Aziraphale nodded as Crowley stood up.  “All of this is your fault! You stupid gigantic biggest bitch in the universe, I should kick your ass!”  Gabriel frowned and rolled his eyes.  “If you are still angry about Y/n being pregnant then I suggest that you get over it.”  Crowley held a hand up.  “Moving on! Y/n is gone. Is she with you?” Gabriel’s mouth dropped as he looked around the room. He turned and quickly walked into the adjoining bathroom before coming back.  “No, she isn’t with me! Where is she?” Aziraphale quickly spoke before Crowley made the situation worse.  “We don’t know. We were hoping that she was with you seeing as the two of you are…” Gabriel held a hand up.  “Aziraphale, hush.” “Don’t tell him to hush! You hush! If you would have been a fucking asshole to her none of this would be happening.”  Crowley snapped. Gabriel didn’t have time to deal with Crowley being the protective lover. At the moment, his mind was going a million miles per minute. Did you really do something as stupid as running off without telling anyone? Were you really that upset from the stupid argument the night before? Apparently, you were. This couldn’t have come at a worse time!  What were you thinking? This was dangerous! You were running around while there were a lot of people that would be looking for you.  Gabriel put a hand over his face before turning back to Crowley.  “I am going out to look for her.” “Yeah, where?” Crowley questioned.  Gabriel held his hands up. “Hell if I know!”  The archangel was gone before Crowley could make another sentence. Crowley’s attention went to Aziraphale.  “I’m going to go talk to Beelzebub. Maybe they can keep an eye out? Stay here in case she comes home.”  Meanwhile,  Beelzebub sat on their thrown scowling dead ahead. From the time that they had returned from earth, the last thing that they wanted to do was talk to anyone. Dagon had tried  asking if all was okay when Beelzebub came back but that went poorly. Beelzebub had picked up a random object and chucked it at Dagon’s head.  “Lord Beelzebub?” Beelzebub looked up to see Dagon timidly peeking in from the door. “What?” Beelzebub snapped. Dagon motioned behind her.  “Crowley is here. He requests an audience with your greatness.” Beelzebub rolled their eyes. “Send him in.” Dagon quickly disappeared and Crowley stepped in.  “Did Y/n send you?” Beelzebub asked. Their eyes rolled up to meet Crowley’s face. Crowley shook his head.  “No, I came on my own. It seems that Y/n has vanished. She and the big idiot had a fight.”  Beelzebub smirked. “How shocking.”  Crowley shrugged.  “I was wondering if you had heard from her? I am trying to figure out where exactly she went.”  Beelzebub laughed bitterly.  “I am the last person that she would contact, Crowley. I’ll have some demons keep an eye on for her.”  Crowley nodded.  “One request?” Beelzebub held their hands up in a rather annoyed manner. Crowley smirked.  “Don’t hurt the kid.” Beelzebub looked like Crowley had shoved a lemon down their throat. They sat down and sunk low.  “Fine. I’ll be careful. Tell the archangel to stay out of my way.” (5 years later)  Failures….5 long years of miserable failures. That was the nicest thing that Crowley could think of! It had been five years since you had disappeared without a trace. It was almost like you had evaporated off of the planet! No matter how hard that he looked, Crowley couldn’t find you.  Aziraphale had just returned from his nightly “stroll” around the neighborhood. Crowley didn’t have the heart to tell his lover that he was probably wasting his time. You weren’t going to be found unless it was on your terms. Right now your terms didn’t include your family.   “Find anything?” Crowley asked. Aziraphale shook his head.  “No ...unfortunately not.”  The angel walked to the refrigerator in search of wince. He couldn’t help feeling useless. Aziraphale  didn’t want to talk to Crowley about feeling like a failure.   “I don’t think Y/n is in London.”  Crowley said softly. Aziraphale looked up.  “If she was in London then I think that someone would have found her by now.”  Crowley didn’t move from his chair.  “She is somewhere small. Some place that she can lay low with the kid. It's been five years. The kid has to be 4 or 4 ½. We’ve missed a lot of her life.”  Aziraphale looked down sadly. He was looking forward to hearing little feet running around. Now they were missing everything!  “Have you talked to Gabriel?” Crowley’s voice pulled Aziraphale from his thoughts. The angel sighed.  “Unfortunately.” Crowley leaned back in his chair.  “Still gone around the twist?” Aziraphale nodded.  “Very much so. If we needed any clue that he cares for her...I think that this a good one. I don’t think that Gabriel would have spent the past five years searching for her.” Crowley faked a gag. As much as he wanted to argue with Aziraphale, he couldn’t. The angel was right there! There would be no way that Gabriel would have wasted this much of his time looking if he didn’t feel some kind of love.  “Gabriel is looking a bit ragged these days. He still dresses like the head asshole in charge but he’s clearly not taking care of himself.” Aziraphale sighed.  “He blames himself...as he should. If Gabriel wouldn’t have been himself then Y/n would be here and safe.” Crowley stood up and tossed the bottle of booze that he had been drinking over his shoulder.  “Damn right the prick deserves what he gets! I don’t care what he does with himself! If he finds my daughter then good for him! I will get Y/n back and deal with Gabriel myself. He really is the biggest bitch in the universe!”  Aziraphale looked up. “We need a holiday.”  (2 weeks later…) You woke up to the sound of birds chirping. Sitting up, you looked around the hotel room that you had been in for the past few days. Your life was now a series of hotel rooms, small rented county cottages, or room in big cities. None of the rooms were ever put in your actual name. You were smart there! If you wanted to lay low you were doing it right.  You had been in Hull for maybe 5 or 6 days. So far you were pleased with the city. After spending some time in Germany you were glad to be back in England.  You had considered going back to London but that would be putting yourself right in Gabriel’s waiting hands!  Glancing to your right, you smiled at the small sleeping form beside you. Matilda lay clutching her teddy bear sleeping peacefully. Your daughter was your whole reason for surviving!  She was the thing that kept you going.  From the day that she was born you knew that you had to keep her safe. She had to be safe from the demons, angels, and most importantly her father. You didn’t think that Gabriel would hurt the child but you were probably on his shitlist now! (or were you?)  The stupid girl in you wondered if Gabriel missed you as much as you missed him? The logical side of you wanted to cuss out any part of you that admitted to missing Gabriel. He didn’t deserve a moment of your heartache ...or did he? You would have been upset if some woman came over and kissed him the way Beelzebub did you. You would be fighting me but you wouldn’t call Gabriel a slut!  “Mummy?” You turned as Matilda sat up and pushed some of her dark messy curls away from her face. She looked so much like Gabriel that it hurt! Some of Matilda’s expressions left you wondering if it was actually Gabriel looking back at you. “Yes?” You replied before getting in to search for clothes. Matilda wiggled her way out of bed and went to look out of the hotel window.  “Can we go do something today? I’m bored.”  You smirked and considered using the line that your mother used on you many times “children are never bored.” Matilda turned back when you didn’t respond.  “Mummy, are you ignoring me?”  You turned with a smile. The child could remind you so much of Crowley too. She had all of the sass of her grandfather with a temper to match. “No, Matilda. I am not ignoring you. Why don’t we go to The Deep today? You have never been to an aquarium before.”  Matilda smiled. “I would love to spend our afternoon watching fish swim.”  “Is that sarcasm or are you being serious?” You asked. Matilda had quickly started pawing through her suitcase.  “I want to see the fish!” She squealed. That told you all that you needed to know.  An hour later, you stood watching Matilda make fish faces at a fish that didn’t seem the least bit interested in her.  “Can we get a fish?” Matilda asked, not taking her eyes off of the fish.  “Where are we going to keep a fish?” Matilda looked back at you with an all too “Gabriel” expressions.  “In a bowl?”  You walked over to her and knelt down.  “Tilley, we are on the move too much to have a pet fish.”   Matilda sighed.  “Mummy, you said that about a cat. King Louie does just fine with our moves.” Matilda had made a Sphynx cat when she turned 3. Matilda had been so proud of “miracling” the cat into existence, you couldn’t take it away from her. “Crowley, would you just enjoy the fish! You agreed to have an open mind!”  “I did have an open mind. I want to let the fish out!”  “They will die!”  Your heart began to pound as you quickly stood up. Maybe if you disappeared quick enough they wouldn’t see you!  “Y/N!!!” Too late… You thought before standing to face Aziraphale and Crowley. The two hadn’t changed from the moment that you last saw them. Crowley looked annoyed...that was putting it lightly. He and Aziraphale were by your side in a second.  “I had to come to Hull and go to an aquarium to find you?” Crowley grumbled. You swallowed. This really wasn’t the reunion that you had planned but when had your life gone according to plan?  “Aziraphale...dad...hi.”  “Hi? Hi? We spend the last five years looking for you and all that I  get is a hi?” Crowley snapped. Aziraphale lightly stomped his foot before nudging Crowley in the ribs with his elbow. You put a hand on your forehead.  “I know that I have a lot to explain but can we talk...somewhere else?” “Mum, but the fish!��  Crowley and Aziraphale immediately looked down upon hearing a new voice. Matilda had wrapped her arms around your legs.  “Crowley….” Aziraphale managed to get out. Crowley meanwhile, had already spotted his granddaughter and was unable to communicate. The little girl had to be the cutest thing the Crowley had looked at. He wasn’t one to go “gaga” over a kid but he was about to turn into a puddle of jello. The little girl looked extraordinary like both of her parents. She had Gabriel's dark hair and matching eyes combined with your facial features.  “And who might you be?” Aziraphale managed to ask softly. Matilda looked up at you for approval. You nodded.  “Matilda.” Crowley and Aziraphale both smiled. You slowly reached down and pulled the little girl into your arms.  “Matilda, this is Aziraphale and Crowley”  “My grandparents.” Matilda said with a smile. Both Crowley and Aziraphale looked between themselves with pleased smirks. You, meanwhile, were feeling guilty. In the beginning, you thought that it was a good idea to hide from Aziraphale and Crowley because that would make it easier for Gabriel to find you. Now you were regretting your decision. Crowley would have been thrilled for any excuse to throw Gabriel out of your lives forever.  Aziraphale meanwhile was eagerly talking to Matilda about anything that she would talk about.  “Y/n, can you and I talk over there?” Crowley asked. You nodded and gently sat Matilda down.  “Tilley, stay here with Aziraphale. I need to go  talk to Crowley.” Aziraphale eagerly held out his hand. Matilda reached out and took his hand.  “Let’s go look at these fish over here.”  You followed Crowley to a small area that was away from most people. Crowley looked over his shoulder at Aziraphale and Matilda with a smile. The girl had said 15 words to the angel and he was already wrapped around her finger. Crowley smiled before the realization that Gabriel would have to be told everything hit him.  Well...he didn’t have to be told but it would be the right thing to do. Crowley would much rather the biggest bitch in the universe remain in the dark but he would figure stuff out eventually.  “Guys nuts.” Crowley muttered and looked back at his granddaughter. There was no denying that Matilda was Gabriel’s daughter. Hell, she was even dressed in a perfect little black dress that was neat as a pin. Gabriel would be so proud! How much she was like her father was yet to be determined. This worried Crowley.  Once that the two of you were out of earshot, you turned to Crowley.  “I know you are angry.” Crowley adjusted his sunglasses.  “I was angry at first then I was petrified. What were you thinking, Y/n? You could have been killed!”  You nodded. Whatever Crowley had to say, you were going to agree with. Even if he started being totally unreasonable, you were going to find some way to agree with your father.  “Dad, I was afraid that if I continued to be with you then Gabriel would be able to get to me.   All things considered, Matilda and I have had a pretty easy time. We have been moving from place to place.”  Crowley reached out and tapped your hand.  “I wouldn’t have let that giant dick wad put a hand on you. If you don’t want him around then he doesn’t have to be.”  “Oh I am going to be around.” Your heart instantly froze hearing his voice. Crowley appeared as stunned as you were! You slowly turned and there stood Gabriel and boy did he look mad! Mad was putting it lightly! You swallowed and looked your lover over. Had he always looked this tall and imposing?  He was still handsome sharp-dressed Gabriel. The only difference was it looked like he had been living on five-hour energy shots mixed with red bull. His normally neat hair was a bit messy. “Gabriel, hello.” You managed to get out. He raised an eyebrow.  “Hi sweetheart. What’s it been four...maybe five years?”   “What does it matter to you seeing that I am a slut and all?” Gabriel smiled. Ah, it was going to be that way? You were going to throw that stupid comment in his face forever weren’t you?  Gabriel wanted to be mad. He wanted to make your life hell for the misery that you caused him but he couldn’t. Seeing that you were alive and healthy was everything that the archangel could have hoped for. His eyes rolled down your body. You were still beautiful...still the woman that he wanted. The cocky side of him was pleased that you still wanted him too.  The realization that you weren’t pregnant hit Gabriel like a swift kick to the balls. You didn’t even look like you had a baby. Where was the baby? You weren’t pregnant for five years, were you? Of course not! That was crazy!  “Still mad about that are you? I think that you and I have a lot to talk about. Where’s my baby?” You glanced over your shoulder at Matilda. The little girl was watching you with a cat-like expression. She didn’t wait for you to call her. Matilda walked over and smiled at Gabriel.  “I see that you didn’t get hit by a train.”  Gabriel’s mouth fell. He looked at you with a “what the fuck” expression. You shrugged.  “She thinks that you got hit by a train.”  You replied innocently. Why Matilda had this in her mind, you didn’t know. Considering that you were bitter about Gabriel a good 90% of the time; you decided not to argue. “That’s morbid!” Gabriel grumbled before rolling his eyes. He pushed the sense of annoyance back as he focused his attention on Matilda. Her eyes were focused on him unblinking.   “Hello...Matilda.”  “Hi dad.”  You, meanwhile watched the interaction between the two with an aching heart. Neither said anything but you knew that they were speaking volumes. Gabriel knelt down at Matilda’s level. He reached out and touched her cheek.  “You’re absolutely darling.”  Matilda didn’t smile instead, her eyes narrowed on her father’s face. “Didn’t you call mummy a slut?” Matilda asked with a Crowley-like smirk. Gabriel’s mouth fell open. He was totally stunned. That was the last thing that he had ever expected to come out of a child’s mouth. “You probably should use that word.” Matilda shrugged.  “You probably shouldn’t be calling your girlfriend a slut. That’s none of my business though.”  Gabriel stood up and patted Matilda on the head. He turned back to you and leaned down. “Did you tell her everything?”  You shook your head with a satisfied smile.  “She reads minds like her daddy.”  Gabriel stood up straight but the scowl didn’t leave his handsome face.  “I think that you and I need to talk...alone.”  You gave Gabriel your best innocent snarky expression.  “I guess we should. Matilda don’t read our minds for a moment.”  Matilda nodded. She went back to looking at fish with Aziraphale and Crowley. You turned back to Gabriel.  “What are you going to do? Take me into a room, slam me against the wall, have your way with me and expect everything to be a-okay?” Gabriel smiled.  “You would like that wouldn’t you, sweetheart?” Crowley walked over and held up a hand.  “I don’t think that it is a good idea for the two of you to be having this conversation around the kid.”  Aziraphale turned around.  “Matilda, do you like ice cream?” Matilda nodded eagerly.  “I’m four. Ice cream is my life.”  You turned to Crowley and gave him the address of your hotel before turning to Matilda. “Before you go, I am warning you now. No funny business. I do not want to hear any stories of you setting anyone’s hair on fire, trying to go swimming with the fish, or offering to read people’s future.”  Matilda smirked at the freaked out expression on Gabriel’s face. This was the last thing that he had wanted to hear.  “Yes, mommy.”  You waited until Crowley and Aziraphale disappeared before turning back to Gabriel. He waited for maybe two seconds before reaching out and wrapping his arms around you. The next thing that you knew, you were standing in a nice hotel room.  “I hope you don’t think that I am about to hop in that bed with you.” You said. Gabriel took his suit jacket off and sat down at the table.  “Getting into bed is what caused the predicament that we are in to begin with.”  Gabriel said almost bitterly. He was actually getting something right!  “I have to agree with you there.”  You said with a coy grin. Gabriel crossed his arms over his chest and was silent for a moment.  “I guess that you regret everything that happened.” “I never said that.”  Gabriel slowly stood. He knew that the two of you needed to talk. There was a lot that needed to be discussed!  “Why did you leave then? I don’t see a girl like you leaving over being called a slut.”  You frowned.  “A girl like me?” Gabriel nodded.  “You’re tough. You aren’t some weakling.”  You held your hands up in defense.  “Gabriel, you said some very hurtful things to me that day. Stuff that was low down and dirty! I am sorry for letting Beelzebub kiss me. They are my friend. That doesn’t mean that I am in love with them or would have risked what we had. I left because it was painfully obvious that you were going to find some way to hurt me. Oh wait, I was in labor for 16 hours with your child. Thanks by the way.”  Gabriel winced.  “I thought that you said that you were going to make me feel everything?”  You chuckled.  “Oh honey, I can still let you feel that  if you want.” Gabriel immediately shook his head.  That was the last thing that he wanted to experience! He didn’t care if it made him sound like an asshole but he was glad that he missed Matilda’s birth. The whole birthing process just seemed messy and something that Gabriel wanted nothing to do with!  “No! I was jealous that Beelzebub kissed you. I consider you mine. I said I was sorry for calling you a slut.” “Did you mean it though?” You asked. Gabriel looked down at his feet. He didn’t mean it at the moment but now he was regretting ever letting those words leave his mouth.  “I do now. Where do we go from here?” You shrugged.  “What do you want?” Gabriel smiled innocently. Before you could respond, Gabriel’s arms were around your waist from behind. You swallowed as his hard body pressed against yours.  “I think you know what I want.” You slowly pulled yourself out of his arms (even though you didn’t want to). Jumping into bed after 5 years of avoiding the man wasn’t going to solve anything! None of your issues would be solved with a quick fuck!  “I know what you want…”  “I want you back. I want both Matilda and yourself.” Gabriel said with an innocent smile. He would get what he wanted eventually. You would only be able to say no for so long! The attraction was obviously there. It would just be a matter of breaking down your stubborn walls.  “I do want to try one thing though.”  He said sweetly. You rolled your eyes. There was that sweet innocence that got you into this mess in the first place.  “Mhm?” Gabriel reached out with one arm and yanked you back to him. His right arm went around your waist before pulling you into a long deep kiss.  When he pulled away, Gabriel smiled at the totally floored expression on your face.  “Still friends?” You could only nod for a moment. For some reason, you lost the ability to speak.  “Yeah, we’re still friends.” _________

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Learn Ya || Chapter 7

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

Author Notes: There are a lot of words here like this is probably the longest chapter I’ve written for this fic thus far. I’m talking 6k+ words just for this chapter so it’s under the cut for obvious reasons. I told y’all I had some Daddy!Challa coming. So strap on in and secure your wigs. ALSO IT TOOK ME ALL DAMN DAY TO WRITE THIS SO Y’ALL BETTER LIKE IT

This was such a bad idea. Amaya didn’t know what she had been thinking when she thought it would be a good idea to cook dinner for T’Challa at her apartment. It sounded like a good idea when she convinced him to come over. He was a damn king and she had invited him to her tiny ass apartment that she shared with Charlie. There was a small part of her that was a little embarrassed, but there was no time to back out now. She had no choice but to make the best out of this less than ideal situation.

She pulled out her best wig and allowed Charlie to do her usual slay, making sure that she looked even better than the last time T’Challa saw her. She struggled with her outfit for far longer than she needed too, finally deciding to dress in a pair of black shorts since she knew that he enjoyed her legs so much and a yellow crop top. This was the first time he was going to be seeing in her person in weeks and she wanted to make sure that she looked damn good.

She wanted to make sure that everything was perfect and that was why she called up her grandma all the way in Florida at the ass crack of dawn to get her recipe for meatloaf. It wasn’t just any basic bland old meatloaf. It was the exact one that her grandmother had made for her granddad just months before he proposed. Let the old man tell it, he knew he was in love during that very same dinner and that had been over 50 years ago, and the old couple were still very much in love with each other. So as far as Amaya was concerned, whatever was in the recipe was magic

Flicking on the oven light, Amaya checked on the dish even if she hadn’t placed it inside the oven but five minutes ago. She was being a little obsessive she knew that much but she wanted to make sure that nothing went wrong. There was nothing worse than inviting someone over for dinner and then serving them that very same dinner burnt to a crisp.

The knock at the door has Amaya jolting to her feet. It was a soft tap of knuckles against the wood but it sent her heart pounding in her chest because of who she knew was standing on the other side of it. She raced to her bedroom, nearly tripping over her feet on her way there, and spritzed a little perfume on the sides of her neck, checking herself out in the mirror for a few seconds before deciding to add a little gloss to her lips and trying to fluff up the curls in her hair.

There was another knock, this time a little louder and harder than before, and Amaya had to take a deep breath before she walked out of her bedroom to answer the door. Taking another deep breath, she answered the door, and the air she had just filled her lungs with immediately escaped her at the sight T’Challa standing in her doorway. He was dressed in his usual all black attire but it was far more casual than the suits she had seen him in, and a little more Americanized. A simple pair of black jeans and a form fitting black shirt with a matte black bomber jacket to top it all off.

It just wasn’t fair that he could make something so simple look so good. There was no way this man could even be real and about to step foot into her apartment.

“You’re a little early.” Her words came out a little more clipped than she would have liked thanks to her nerves. She chewed on her bottom lip when he lifted a brow towards her.

The corners of his mouth quirked a little as if he were holding back a smile. “If I didn’t know any better I would think that you didn’t miss me, Amaya.”

“I didn’t say that….”

“Ah, so you did miss me. You have quite the interesting way of showing it.” The teasing nature of his words had her holding back a smile as she rolled her eyes. “Are you going to invite me in or will we be having dinner out here in the hallway?”

Amaya took a step back so that he could walk inside and suddenly her apartment felt so much smaller with him standing in her living room. She watched as he looked around the small room, from the love seat that Charlie’s mom had been so gracious to gift to them when they first moved in to the television that was mounted on the wall. T’Challa seemed to be taking it all in for a moment before he turned around and looked to her.

“Do you live here alone?”

Amaya shook her head. “Nope. I have a roommate. Charlie. The girl you conned my number out of.”

“I conned her out of your number?” He placed a hand on his chest and had the audacity to look offended.

“That’s exactly what I said. Don’t think she didn’t tell me all about how charming you were so you could get my number. You knew exactly what you were doing. Probably flashed that smile of yours and it was a wrap from there. You’re not slick.”

“I can not believe I am being accused of such a thing. I have never used my smile to get what I want.”

“Never?”

“Not once in my life.” The smile in question started to take over his lips as she placed her hands on her hips.

“That sounds like a lie if I’ve ever heard one and I just wanna let you know that I don’t believe you.” She threw back at him as she shook her head a little. “Do you drink wine?”

“I do.” There was a bit of confusion that passed over his face.

“Good hold that thought please.” She held up one finger before disappearing into the kitchen.

She grabbed the bottle of wine from the fridge that she and Charlie had been saving for a special occasion--she didn’t see an occasion that would get any more special than this. She grabbed two wine glasses from the cabinet before filling them both half way. With both glasses in hand, she walked back out to the living room to find T’Challa standing front of the the few bookcases that were able to fit in the living room.

“Finding anything interesting?” He looked over his shoulder before turning to face her completely and taking the glass she was handing over to him.

“Have read all of these?” She was distracted for a second by the way his hand gripped the glass and she found herself watching his fingers drum against the side, reveling in how thick they were.

She cleared her throat, trying to push all of those thoughts out of her head. “Yeah, I was a big reader as a kid. If you’ve ever seen the movie Matilda, I was a lot like that growing up.”

“Cannot say that I have seen that movie before, but I will take your word for it,” he took a slow sip of the win as his eyes wandered the shelves of her bookcases before he stopped. “And have you read these three?”

Amaya squinted her eyes as she read the titles. Fifty Shades of Grey. Fifty Shades Darker. Fifty Shades Free. She nearly choked on her wine. She could have sworn that she had gotten rid of those books when she realized just how terrible they were.

“That’s a funny story actually. I remember when it came out and I was looking for a mother’s day present for my mom and some magazine recommended that it was a good present so I ordered the whole series online, right?  Then I read the first book and was like there’s no way I can give this book to my mom…..so I kept them for myself and read them all.” She did her best to hide her embarrassment behind her wine glass, taking a large gulp of the bittersweet liquid.

“You kept them for yourself?”

“Listen, don’t you judge me. I was all of 14 and thinking this was the best thing I had ever read but I broadened my horizons and realized that this was not a great depiction of a healthy BDSM relationship and it was terribly written, but I will credit it to opening my eyes to a lot of things.”

There was something flickering in his eyes as he looked at her, something that she couldn’t exactly place her finger on, but she knew that she liked it. “No one is judging you, Amaya. The shift in the air between the two of them was so subtle that she almost didn’t realize it. “And what exactly were your eyes opened up to?”

“The kind of relationship that I do want and the kind that I don’t want.” She shrugged her shoulders and finished off what was left of her wine.

“I get this feeling that you give vague answers on purpose.” T’Challa licked his lips slowly and Amaya had to take a deep breath to calm herself.

“And so what if I do? What are you gonna do about it?” She knew very well that she was playing fire, and she was more than willing to get herself burned in the process if it meant she got what she wanted.

His only response was a small smirk before he turned back to the bookshelves. Feeling a little bolder, Amaya placed her empty glass down and moved herself between him and the shelves, forcing him to look at her. With the small distance that had been between him and the shelves, there was an even smaller distance between her body and his.

“You should know something about me, Sir…” her fingers toyed with the collar of his jacket, dangerously close to his neck. “I don’t like being ignored.”

His arm disappeared above her head and she heard the soft clink of the glass being placed down, but he eyes never left her face. Normally, the longer he stared at her, the more her bold nature would start to fade, but that was the furthest thing from the case. The wine mixing with how long it had been since she had seen him, there was no backing down as far as she was concerned.

“Is that so?” His hand wrapped around one of her wrists, holding it down by his side before yanking her forward quickly and without warning. Her body went crashing forward and closed the distance between the two of them.

Staring straight ahead of her she could only see just the barest amount of his chin and she craned her neck back a little to look him in the eye. Shivers worked down her spine as his thumb brushed against her bare thigh, tracing small circles that she could feel radiating through every part of her body with one part in particular. His other hand grabbed her other wrist and before she realized what was happening, both of her hands were pinned behind her back. The trapped feeling that washed over her body sent her heart racing, but she didn’t fight against it. There was a large part of her that embraced it, wanting to have more of it and wondering how she would feel if he had her exactly like this, but naked in her bed.

“That is exactly so.” If he could hear the want in her voice, he wasn’t acknowledging it which was only serving to frustrate her even more.

His grip tightened around her wrists, forcing her arms further behind her back and pulling a soft gasp from between her lips that borderlined on a moan.

“Well now you have my attention. What are you going to do with it?” She was unable to ignore the challenge that laced in his tone and the sharp edge in his voice. Maybe she had lit a fire that she hadn’t quite anticipated burning like this.

“What do you think I should do with it? Because I can think of a few things that I can do with it.” There was a voice in the back of her head that was telling her that she needed to chill out, but she was never one to listen to that voice anyway so why start now?

“I have had a few thoughts of my own now that you mention it. And I do recall that you said something about how you wanted to get into trouble.” His lips were dangerously close and she was dying to have him close the distance. She was seconds away from begging for it if she needed to.

Amaya opened her mouth to answer but she was cut off by the oven timer going off, signaling that the meatloaf was ready to be taken out. “You’ll never know now. Dinner is done.” She went to wiggle free from his grasp but it only resulted in him holder her even tighter, delicious pricks of pain coursing through her shoulder blades that had her chew on the inside of her cheek to keep from moaning out loud.

“You cannot keep using food to run away from me.” Her eyes were trained on his tongue, watching as it peeked out from between his full lips and moved across the bottom one, stealing every bit of her attention for a few seconds.

Just fucking kiss me.

The words were on the tip of her tongue but she held them back. Instead she chose to smile in response.

“If you would like to starve instead of eating the delicious dinner I made then be my guest, but do you know how hard it is to get the smell of burnt meat out of an apartment?” She lifted her brows.

T’Challa made a sound in the back of his throat as if he were thinking and there was a moment of silence before he finally released her wrists. She was both grateful and a little disappointed when he did. She grabbed both of their glasses on her way back to the kitchen. She made it just in time, turning the oven off and pulling the hot dish from inside. She grabbed the only two plates that matched and placed two slices on each plate. She quickly heated up the mashed potatoes and green beans before placing servings of each next to the meatloaf. She took T’Challa’s plate and now full glass back out the living room first and placed them on the coffee table, finding that he had made himself comfortable in the time that she had been gone, having stripped from his jacket to showcase the way the cotton material of his shirt stretched across his chest.

She had to tear her eyes away from him so that she could go get her own food. She could feel his eyes watching her every move. “Stop staring at my legs.”

Her words were met with his laughter, the sound following her as she grabbed her own plate and glass of wine. She settled on the couch, curling her legs underneath her body. She looked at him expectantly and waited for him to take the first bite. She watched him chew and go back for a second bite without saying a word.

“You’re staring.” He finally looked at her, another bite just inches away from his mouth.

“And you’re not telling me if you like it or not. I gotta tell my grandma something.”

“Did your grandmother make this?”

“No, it was her recipe and when I told her I was making it for you, she wanted me to report back so to speak.” She finally dug into her own food, cutting off a piece of meatloaf and popping it into her mouth.

“Well, you can tell her that I love it.” A little smile came to his lips. “So you told your grandmother about me?”

“Don’t let it go to your head or anything. My grandma is just nosy and wants to know about everyone in my life even if they don’t mean anything.” She pointed her fork in his direction, rolling her eyes playfully.

“I really am starting to get the impression that you’re just trying to hurt me tonight. Now I do not mean anything. I know when I am not wanted…” He started to rise from his seat, but Amaya quickly moved her legs from underneath her and placed them across his lap to keep from getting up.

“Didn’t anyone ever teach you that you can’t get up from the table until your plate is clean?” She kept her legs draped across his lap even after he sat back down. “Should I have a conversation with your mother so she can have a conversation with you?”

His gaze on her thighs was so intense that she could almost physically feel it, and it was a few long moments before his eyes were on hers again. “Why go through all the trouble when you could cut out the middle man and have the conversation right now?”

“You have a point, but did you ever think that maybe I just don’t want to?” She smirked at him from around her forkful of mashed potatoes.

“There’s something you should know about me, Amaya….” She found herself hanging on his last word as he took another bite of food, waiting for him to finish his statement. “I am very good at persuading people into doing things.”

“I really don’t doubt that, but I can be pretty stubborn when I want to be so I might not be as easy as the other women you’re use to dealing with.” She pulled in a sharp breath when his thumb brushed against her knee and the look in his eyes let her know that he knew exactly what he was doing.

“Let the record show that I am currently not dealing with any other women. Just you.” All the playfulness had left his voice and he held her gaze until she was the one to look away.

She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth to keep from smiling too hard. She hadn’t really thought about if there would be other women that he was talking to, but to hear that there weren’t made her feel good. It had been a long time since she had felt secure enough to not have to worry about being played by someone. Hearing it from T’Challa made her believe it even if she had no way of proving it. He wasn’t Rod and he wasn’t going to run off and get someone pregnant after telling her all of the right things. He didn’t seem like that kind of man and he didn’t deserve the comparison to Rod even on his worse day.

“In case you were wondering, it’s just you too.” She cleared her throat and finally looked up at him only to find him smiling back at her.

“I do enjoy the sound of those words.”

“I just bet you do.” She was grateful the moment had shifted back to playful as it had grown a little too serious, giving her an odd feeling in her stomach.

“I would also really enjoy dessert if there is any.” She had been so focused on him that she hardly realized he was done with his food.

“So I’m gonna be straight up with you, I suck at baking…...like I can’t even make box pudding without messing it up somehow and I didn’t think it would be fair to just go out and buy something from the store.” She pulled her lips between her teeth and averted her eyes. She only looked up when she heard his laughter. “That’s not funny! Stop laughing!” She swatted at his arm a few times.

“I apologize. I’m not laughing because I think it’s funny. No one has ever put that much thought into making me dinner before.” T’Challa’s laughter faded into a soft chuckle before giving way completely. “If anything, I think it’s cute that you put so much thought into it.”

“If it helps, I have ice cream.” She was trying her best not to smile, but it wasn’t making it easy for her. He really was a charming bastard when he wanted to be and she hated how easy it was for her to fall right into it. She wasn’t even trying to fight it at this point. There was no need.

“What flavor?”

“Strawberry cheesecake.”

“I accept that flavor.” He leaned forward to place his plate down on the coffee table, coming back and resting his hand on her legs as if it was something they had done before. Amaya had to contain herself because she was very close to jumping all over him in response.

“You didn’t have a choice. It’s the only favor we eat in this house.” When she started to pull her legs from his lap, he fingers wrapped around them to keep her put. “You know, in order for me to actually get that ice cream, I have to go to the kitchen which means I have to get up and that means my legs have to leave your lap I’m afraid.”

“This is quite comfortable though.” He shrugged his shoulders, fingers trailing up and down her calf never once moving above the knee even if she wanted him to. She was actually dying for him to do it. It had crossed her mind more than just once.

“But think of how good the ice cream is gonna taste.” Now she was thinking about the ice cream and despite how good his fingers felt against her bare skin, she was craving the frozen treat now.

“You have a point…..” He lifted one hand to tug at the hairs of his beard gently before lifting his other hand from her leg.

She paused before swinging her legs from his lap and collected their plates to take to the sink. She rinsed them off as a way to try to buy herself a little more time. Even more time was bought when she went to the freezer and took a quick shot from the vodka bottle that lie within before she grabbed the pint of ice cream. This man was truly working a number on her and she wasn’t use to it. She picked up two spoons on the way back to the living room. When she sat down, her legs were being pulled back into his lap and she found herself being pulled closer to him, her hip right up against his and his hands now resting on her thighs.

“You really have gotten comfortable?” She teased him but didn’t pull away because she was also a little comfortable though she would never admit it out loud to him. “I figured this would make up for the fact that I ate our last dessert….completely…..by myself.” She pulled off the plastic that surrounded the top before peeling off the top and licking some of the ice cream that was there. She could feel him staring but she decided to ignore it and instead handed him his spoon, beating him to taking the first bite.

“I have realized something.” She was so focused on the way his tongue moved across the bottom of the spoon that she almost didn’t hear him.

“And what’s that? Because I’ve realized something myself, but you first.”

“You never did tell me why you wanted to become a lawyer.” His thumb moved across her bottom lip, catching a bit of ice cream that lingered at the corner of her mouth before she could lick it away, and sucking his thumb clean. He did it in such a fluid motion that it almost felt like a normal thing between them that she shouldn’t be so turned on by.

“A lot of things. I guess it started when I was younger. I use to be obsessed with Law and Order, you know the tv show, and I use to think being a lawyer was the coolest job in the world and then I went to college and I took a pre law class and I saw it was nothing like tv. Somehow that made me want to do it even more because it wasn’t about the glory of winning a case, it’s more about trying to help people and that’s the part I love.” She licked at her spoon and made a small face. “And there’s so many people, especially black people, that are falsely accused of all of these crimes and end up going to jail because they can’t afford a good lawyer. I don’t think the justice system to should only work for the people who have a few zeros attached to their bank account or look a certain way.” She looked up from the ice cream and saw him staring at her. “What?”

A hint of a smile started to pull at his lips. “Nothing. You just have a really good heart. I can admire that in a person.”

“You’re just saying that to make me smile.”

“I am saying it because I believe it. Your beautiful smile is just a nice bonus.” He reached out and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. She knew this move and she knew what would come next…..except it didn’t come next because T’Challa didn’t kiss her.

Amaya felt her stomach drop a little with disappointment. She hadn’t realized how much she wanted him to kiss until she thought it was going to happen and it didn’t. It was like a slight blow to the ego that he hadn’t kissed her yet. She didn’t care if it was technically the second date. She wasn’t one to fuck on the first date, but she wasn’t opposed to a little kissing by the second or the third. Hell, she would have fucked him on the first date if the opportunity arose so kissing definitely wouldn’t have been a problem in her opinion.

Changing the subject would be the best thing for her to do because no matter how much she wanted to ask him why she hadn’t kissed him yet, she didn’t really want to know the answer to that.

“So let’s say I wanted to become king of Wakanda, what would I have to do in order to do that?” She scooped up more ice cream to keep her mouth busy from asking the question that she really wanted to ask.

“Kill me.” He said it so nonchalantly that it took her off guard.

“Wait. Seriously?”

“It’s ritual combat. You either would have to kill me or get me to yield, and I never yield.” “What else?” All of this fascinated her, and she really did want to keep him talking because she enjoyed listening to him.

“Do you plan on taking me out to become king?” With his eyes searching her face, he shifted his body, bringing her even closer to him. Close enough that she could the faint amount of grey that was peppered throughout his beard.

“How old are you?” She blurted out and ignored the question she had been asked. It was something she did. When she got a question in her mind, she needed to know the answer immediately or else it would bother her until she found out. Sometimes she would even fixate on it, letting it consume on her.

“37.” His brows furrowed and sat low on his forehead in his confusion.

There was a 15 year age between the two of them that placed them in very different places in their lives. It wasn’t something that had crossed her mind before. The only thing that concerned her was how attracted to this man she was. She never thought to worry about how much older he was than her. In a very strange world, he was old enough to be her father, or at the very least her older brother…..maybe a distant uncle she only ever met at family reunions.

“Why do you look so horrified?” She hadn’t realized that a look had come to her face.

“You don’t have any kids, do you? None that are currently on the way?”

“No, definitely not.” He let out a low chuckle and shook his head. “Is that what you are worried about?”

“No. I’m more worried that you might want different things than I do because you’re so old.” Now that it had come to her attention, it was all that she could focus on.

“I wasn’t aware that I was ‘so old’.”

“You know what I mean.”

He gently pulled the carton and spoon from her hands and placed them down on the coffee table before giving her his full attention. “And what do you think that I want?”

“I’m not sure.” She leaned one arm against the back of the couch and used the crook of her elbow to cradle her cheek.

“Alright. Then what is that you want?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Then how can you be sure that I might want different things than you do?” He lifted a brow.

“No one told you to poke holes in my theory like this.” She pushed at his chest and swung her legs from his lap so that she scoot away from him.

He caught her arm and pulled her back, wrapping an around her waist so she couldn’t get too far away. “I would not call it poking holes in your theory. I was simply showing you that you had no reason to worry.”

“I see your point.” With her hip pressed against him, she could feel the vibrations that came from his pocket. His arm released her waist and he reached into his pocket as she moved away from him a little so he could grab it. “Do you need to take that?”

“It’s not a phone call. It’s a reminder of my meeting in the morning.” His thumb slid across the screen before he was sliding it back into his pocket.

“Oh. I’m guessing you need to go then?” She did her best not to sound disappointed.

“Unfortunately. If I could cancel this meeting I would.” She narrowed her eyes a little at him. “What?”

“I thought you said you were coming for me?”

“I did come for you, but what kind of a king would I be if I didn’t get a little work done while I was here?” He teased and she found herself smiling a little.

“Probably a terrible one.” She tossed back as she stood up to her feet slowly, watching as he mirrored her actions as he grabbed his jacket from the arm of the couch. She tried to keep herself from acting like a little girl who was having her favorite toy taking away as she walked him to the front door. “I had a lot of fun tonight and I’ll make sure to tell my grandma you said her recipe was the best you’ve ever tasted.

“Somehow I do not remember saying all of that.”

“Humor the old woman and let her have this win. You wouldn’t deny and old woman that, would you?” She leaned against the doorframe after opening the door for him.

“I wouldn’t dream of doing that to your poor grandmother.” He pulled on his jacket and somehow made even that look like the sexiest thing Amaya had seen in her whole life. This man was a whole ass man.

“I think she’ll really appreciate that.” She smiled at him and found herself unwilling to let him leave even if she knew it needed to happen.

T’Challa leaned down and closed the distance between the two of them and once again she thought he was going to kiss, but instead she felt his lips brush against her cheek. She was about to take matters into her own hands if he didn’t get it together, but she would let him slide this time.

“I will call you tomorrow.” She nodded her head and he gave her one last smile before she watched him walk down the hall.

She let out a small sigh as she closed the door and locked it. She grabbed the melted ice cream from off the table and replaced the top before going to put back into the freezer. She started to load the dishwasher and clean up the kitchen when she was interrupted by a soft knock at the door. Other than T’Challa she hadn’t been expecting anyone else so it was probably just Charlie who forgot her key once again. She tossed the dish towel down on the counter and went to answer the door. She peeped through the peep hole and was surprised to find T’Challa standing on the other side with a look of determination on his features. She immediately opened the door.

“Did you forget something?”

“Actually I did.”

He grabbed her arm and yanked her close until her chest was pressed right up against his. Before she had a chance to react, his lips were finally pressing against hers. There was nothing sweet about his kiss. He kissed her as if he had something to prove and she loved every second of it. Her arms came up to wrap around his neck as she stood on her toes trying to get closer and his arms wrapped around her waist.

Amaya let out a soft moan as he gripped her hips tightly. He was finally giving her exactly what she wanted and it was even better than she had thought it would be. She felt his tongue move across her bottom lip enough to make her part of her lips. She could taste the sweet taste of ice cream on his tongue and it sent sparks electrifying all over her body. Her fingers moved and she pulled at the short coils of hair as she felt her back hitting the wall near her door, trapping her between it and the hard planes of his muscular frame.

His hand crept down her body and his fingers curled around her thigh, lifting it off the ground and hooking it around his waist. The way he pressed into her allowed her to feel just how hard his body truly was and it pulled a needy whimper from somewhere deep in her chest. She took it upon herself to lift her other leg, wrapping it around his waist along with the first one, wrapping her arms tighter around his neck. He seemed to waste on time placing his hands underneath her ass, strong hands holding her up and gripping her ass tightly all in the same regard, pushing her even harder against him to allow her to feel just how much he also wanted this. If this was what she had been waiting for then it was well worth the wait.

By the time he pulled away from her lips, she was breathless, but craning her neck forward for more. She wasn’t ready for the moment to end just yet. She had to bite down on her tongue to keep from letting out a small sound of frustration as he placed her feet back down on the ground. Her hands moved from his neck down the front of his body, unabashedly feeling him in the process. She stared at his chest for a few moments before she looked up at him.

“Did you find what you forgot, Sir?”

“Some of it. The rest I think I should save for later if that is alright with you.” He cupped her chin gently, a far cry from the way he had just roughly kissed her.

“Depends on much later. I don’t think I have a whole lot of patience left.” She toyed with the zipper on his jacket.

“I am afraid you will need to find some. It could be a while...or it might not to be. You’ll have to be a good girl to find out.” The moan she let out was almost inaudible, but the ghost of a smile on his lips let her know that it wasn’t as quiet as she thought it had been. Those two words shouldn’t sound so good coming from him and yet there she was, with a heartbeat between her legs because of them. “Can you do that for me?”

She nodded her head once. “I think I can do that if the reward is worth it.”

“I would like to think it will be more than worth it.” There was a promise in his words that she was hoping like hell that he could keep.

“Then I can do that for you.”

“That’s what I like to hear. I will call you tomorrow. Goodnight, Amaya.” His lips brushed against her cheek once more and she found herself watching him disappear down the hall again.

“Well damn child. I can see why you didn’t want my grandsons.” Miss Catherine’s raspy voice brought Amaya back to reality. The older woman stood in her doorway with a black garbage in her hand and bright pink rollers in her hair. “If I was 20 years younger…..the things I would let that man do to me.”

“Goodnight Miss Catherine.” Amaya couldn’t help but laugh as she slipped back into her apartment and closed the door, her lips still tasting of T’Challa when she licked them.

[chuffyfan87]

Hiding. Part 44b (NSFW)

“Wow!” Sarah smiled brightly. “Congratulations.”

"Thanks. So, have you thought of a name for this little one yet?"

Sarah shook her head, “No." She closed her eyes for a minute.

"Do you want me to hold him for a bit so you can rest?"

“No, I need to get used to the permanent state of being tired.” Sarah laughed gently. “How do you cope? With them all?”

"I'm lucky that I have people around me that help."

“I’m scared that I... won’t be a good mum.”

"I frequently wake up feeling like that and my eldest is fourteen now." Duffy squeezed the young woman's hand. "Learn to have a little faith in yourself and the rest will all drop into place. Remember there are people there who want to help you, but you need to let them."

Sarah nodded, “Thank you.”

"We mums have got to stick together." Duffy smiled.

Sarah nodded.

"Coz blokes are useless a lot of the time." Duffy laughed. "I'm starting to think my husband has gotten lost you know!"

“Or he’s dealing with the teddy bear incident still?”

"I bet you that Tilly has started a fight with one of her sisters over it."

“Tell me what your children are like?”

"Well... Peter is the eldest - he's fourteen, very bright but a bit of a worrier like his dad, Jake is ten - he's the adventurous one, doesn't always think before he speaks, Emily is five - she's the shy one, she struggles with her speaking but is very giggly, Matilda, or Tilly as we call her, is four - she's the trouble maker of the family, always up to mischief and finally there's her twin Charlotte, or Lottie as we call her, she's more laid back but is usually her twin's partner in crime."

Sarah smiled as she listened to Duffy say about her children. “Your children sound amazing. What’s your stepson like?”

"Louis is nearly eight. His mum moved out to Canada almost a year ago now so we don't see him as much as we used to, which my husband in particular really struggles with. If I'm honest he's a bit of a mixed up kid but that's probably because he's had very little stability in his life."

Sarah nodded. “I’m tired.” She admitted.

Eventually, they landed and Sarah and the baby were taken to the nearest hospital.

Duffy wrote her contact details onto some paper and gave them to Sarah. "If you need anything call. Anytime. I'll pop in and see you tomorrow once you're both settled." She promised.

“Thank you.” Sarah said quietly as she took the contact details and kept them somewhere safe.

Charlie was still quieter than normal. His attention focused firmly on the children and making sure they were behaving and ok.

A couple of hours later they were finally home and the kids were in bed. Duffy flopped down on the sofa. "What a day!" She sighed.

He nodded, “Very hectic!”

"I'm glad I decided to take that course now."

“It came in handy.” He replied, “You did amazing!"

"I was so terrified." She admitted.

“I could tell. I wasn’t going to let you fall to pieces though.” He replied, “We're great as a team!”

"We really are." She rested her head on his shoulder. "Are you OK?"

“Not really.”

"Talk to me. Please?"

“It breaks my heart every time I leave Louis.”

"I wish there was something I could do to help ease that pain for you but there isn't is there?"

“No. Just.... can I have a hug?” He asked.

"Come here." She held her arms out to him.

He moved into her arms.

She held him tight, hoping to make things a little better whilst trying to ignore the discomfort she was in.

“Are you okay?” He asked quietly, sensing something wasn’t right.

"Just a little sore from being squashed." She replied, hoping he'd understand what she meant and not think she was rejecting him.

“Ok.” He smiled and kissed her neck. “Are you ok after your panic attack earlier?”

"I'm fine." She replied dismissively.

“It can’t have been easy.”

"Its what I've spent two years training to do."

“I mean, the panic attack. Remembering... You know. Talk to me?”

"There's not really much to say. I hyperventilated. These things happen sometimes."

“Ok.” He sighed sadly and ran his fingertips up her arm.

"So we're home now..." She began.

“We are.” He smiled, “How do you fancy we pass the time?” He smiled.

"I don't mind so long as I can change out of these jeans."

“Can I help you get out of them?” He smiled moving slightly so she could sit up.

"How kind of you to offer seeing as you're the reason they're too tight in the first place!" She laughed.

“What?” He asked, taken aback by her comment. “You mean...?”

"You really should learn to actually cook rather than relying on takeaways!" She remarked as she rested her hand against her slightly rounded belly.

“Are you sure it’s a food belly?” He asked as he rested his hand against her stomach. With his free hand, he undid the button on her jeans.

"Well I've been eating nothing but junk for most of the holidays." She shrugged. "These jeans fit OK when I left England four weeks ago."

“Then I suggest we start with a bit more physical exercise.” He winked suggestively, “We’ve not been that physical on holiday.”

"So you agree that I've gotten fat while we've been away..?"

“Darling, you look the same as you did when we went on holiday.” He reassured, gently moving her jeans off her.

"You just don't want to sleep on the sofa tonight..!" She smirked.

Removing her jeans, he smiled back and answered. “You know I don’t care about your size right? I’m sexually attracted to you regardless.”

"Hmm..." She started to laugh. "Its funny watching you panic though." She admitted mischievously.

His hands went to her thighs, “You like to see me panic, don’t you?”

"I like to see how you find your way back out of the hole you've dug for yourself." She smiled. "Shall we head upstairs?"

He nodded, “Let’s go upstairs and I’ll show you how much I’ve missed you.”

"Well that sounds like an offer I can't refuse!" She giggled.

“I didn’t think you’d refuse.” He smiled. He took her hand and lead her upstairs.

Reaching the bedroom Duffy laid down on their bed. "Oh I've missed this." She sighed with a smile.

He crawled in between her legs, “Nothing beats your own bed.”

"Absolutely." She agreed.

He began to kiss her neck.

She moaned as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

His tongue began to work its way up her neck, and along her earlobe.

She giggled as his breath tickled her ear.

“You’ve got such a cute giggle.” He whispered.

She shifted her leg. "Is that what I think it is?" She grinned.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

She pulled him closer, running her fingers through his hair.

“What do you think it is?” He whispered.

"My not so little friend?" She grinned.

“You’ve not seen him for a while, have you?” He pressed himself against her thigh.

"Yeh, he's been a little awol recently."

“I’ll make up for it now we’re home. You’ve got my word.” He moved so he could help Duffy out of her top and then her bra.

She let out a hiss as his fingers brushed against her nipples.

“Sensitive?” He asked, pinching one of her nipples.

"Ow! Meanie!" She pouted.

“Sorry.” He kissed along her collarbone, sucking the skin heading to her breasts.

"Be gentle with them."

“Your breasts?” He asked for clarification.

"Yeh, they're sore."

“How long have they been sore?” He asked as he gently sucked her nipple.

"About a week." She admitted.

He made a noise in acknowledgement and continued to suck her nipple.

She moaned loudly. Though they were sore they were also incredibly sensitive too.

His other hand cupped her other breast as he continued to suck hard.

Her hips began to buck against him.

He moved his mouth from her breast and smiled, “Are you sure you’re not pregnant?” He asked.

"Maybe." She shrugged. "Probably." She laughed.

“If I continue to suck on your tits, you’ll probably come - you’re that sensitive!”

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

“It’s not. It really isn’t.” He removed her knickers in one swift movement and sucked her other breast.

She moved her hands to undo his belt and jeans.

He sucked harder. Biting her nipple occasionally.

She managed to push down his jeans and wrap her legs around his hips.

He moved and began to rub himself against her clit, teasing her.

She moaned louder, desperate to feel him properly.

“Tell me what you want.”

"You inside me now!" She demanded.

“You’re very bossy.” He replied before he thrusted into her, hard.

"I always get what I want." She replied smugly.

“Hm, you do.” He groaned loudly, she felt good!

It didn't take long before she could feel her peak fast approaching. Her breathing got faster and her moans louder.

Charlie knew from the changes, she was beginning to hurtle towards her peak. He could feel her clenching further around him.

Seconds later she let out a long moan as she threw her head back.

“Oh fuck, babe!” He replied, moving faster.

She gripped his hair so tightly that her knuckles were white.

“Babe....” He groaned loudly, climaxed and collapsed on top of her.

They stayed like that for a few moments until Duffy began to wriggle.

“Are you okay babe?” He asked as he moved off her and lay beside her.

"You were squashing me."

“I’m sorry babe.” He stroked her stomach.

"Its ok." She smiled as she watched him.

“How many weeks would we be now?” He asked, “Four?”

"You can tell you're not a midwife!" She giggled.

“I don’t really know how all this dating stuff works.” He admitted and laughed.

[joeandtaylorfanfiction]

Lessons (AU) | Submitted Anonymously

Chapter two: “Oh wow! Now that's unfortunate”

“Let’s go, let’s go guys!” Elizabeth could hear her husband Richard and their only granddaughter giggling away across the hall in the living room. They had picked Poppy up from school so they could help her get ready for the Christmas Concert. She was dressed in a white sweater with red dungarees and candy cane patterned tights. Her long blonde hair had been put into two pig tails and a small bow was placed on her head.

Christmas was the Alwyn’s favourite holiday so going all out was not an option, it was a necessity. The Christmas tree along with outdoor lights and a singing Santa had been up in Elizabeth and Richard’s house since late November. Elizabeth had begun buying presents for their children and relatives in September and she was so happy everyone was finally getting into the Christmas spirit.

“Nana, is it time to go?”

Elizabeth nodded at the five-year-old holding out her red Matilda Jane’s. Poppy quickly placed them on the floor, slipping her feet into them and doing up the buckle. She let out an excited little squeal before following her grandparents out the front door.

By the time, Richard had driven to and parked at the school Poppy had peacefully fallen asleep in the back seat of the car. Elizabeth brushed her granddaughter’s hair from her face and gently tried to wake her. Poppy stirred a little before letting out a whine about wanting her Dad.

“It’s Nannie, Pop” Elizabeth picked her up, holding her head in the crook of her neck trying to shield her as best she could from the rain that had decided to start falling. She could feel Poppy beginning to cry feeling disoriented and wanting her Father.

“I want Daddy” she mumbled into her Nana’s shoulder. Elizabeth held her tightly trying to open the door to school building before Richard managed to catch up and help her. They walked down the hallway towards Poppy’s classroom. Elizabeth could tell Poppy would not want to let go. Missing her Father was something Poppy really struggled with, they had such a close bond and now Joe had been working more often it has been difficult to adjust. Of course, she loved spending time with her grandparents and Abbie but nothing was stronger than her and Joe’s bond. She was completely and utterly a Daddy’s girl.

The three of them were the first to reach the bright yellow and bumblebee painted door with Poppy still softly sobbing into Elizabeth’s coat. She began to place the little girl softly on her feet but Poppy started to cry even harder, stomping and throwing her arms around in frustration. Elizabeth wasn’t used to seeing this side of Poppy, she was normally very well behaved however clearly she was tired and ready for the end of the school term.

“Hey Poppy, do you want to come in with me?” Miss Swift appeared from the hallway behind Elizabeth, “You’re the first one here!” she continued. Poppy nodded shyly with a sniff trying to get rid of her tears. Elizabeth pat her head gently before waving goodbye and walking towards the performance hall.

“You know, being the first one here is super awesome” Taylor walked towards her desk “it means you get to pick the best colouring page and find all the good pencils!” She continued enthusiastically trying to make Poppy feel better. The little girl smiled slightly before her face fell back to a frown.

“Come here” Taylor pat her lap motioning for Poppy to come sit with her. She knew this wasn’t the most professional thing to do but her heart couldn’t help but ache for the sweet little girl. As a child Taylor herself had a workaholic Father, he was still very present but just once she wished he could’ve come to her plays or piano recitals. She picked Poppy up placing her in her lap, Taylor pulled out the colouring pens from her bag and they both started to colour in the Santa.

“What are you going to ask Santa for this year Poppy?” The teacher asked.

“I think I just want a new Barbie doll and maybe a new soccer ball, I think Daddy will like playing with me. And I need some new nail paint so I can paint Daddy’s nails when he is asleep” Poppy giggled to herself and Taylor smiled at the thought. She was hoping to get Poppy’s mind off her Father but clearly he was her everything.

“What do you want Santa to bring you Miss Swift?” The little girl stopped colouring.

“I haven’t asked Santa for anything yet this year, I am just very excited I get to go and see my family” Poppy looked confused. “My family live far away in a different country, I don’t get to see my Mummy and Daddy very often.”

“I don’t have- DADDY!!” The little girl couldn’t finish before she burst with excitement. She jumped off the teachers lap and ran into her Dad’s arms.

Joe had been so excited all day, he couldn’t wait to see the look of surprise on his little girls face when he turned up to the concert. He hated not being with her, but his job meant he could give Poppy the best possible life and that was something he always wanted. He had managed to pry himself away from his desk before five o’clock which was very impressive and then have his driver race across London so he could be at the school by six. Turned out he was actually early for one of the first times in his life but his Mum had told him Poppy was incredibly upset so he had decided to come and surprise her in the classroom.

“Hey Pop!” Joe picked the little girl up and twirled her around slightly. She threw her head back giggling.

“I didn’t know you were coming Daddy!”

“I thought it would be a surprise. Is it a good one?” He kissed his daughters head gently.

“Yes!” The little girl squealed squeezing her Dad’s cheeks in excitement. “Of course!” She continued pushing his cheeks together before giving him a quick kiss back.

“Look, Miss Swift and I were colouring.” She pointed in the teachers direction. “I thought Santa would be cold so I made him blue.” Joe let the little girl carefully to the floor, and she tugged his hand towards the desk showing him her colouring before sitting back on her teachers lap.

Taylor looked up almost immediately when she realised Joe was walking towards her. He was wearing a suit again. It was slightly different to the one worn the previous evening, and this time he wore a Christmas themed tie.

“Hey, Taylor right?” She hadn’t realised she’d been staring for so long until he held out his hand to shake hers.

“Taylor? Who’s Taylor?” She heard Poppy say which made her chuckle a little before answering.

“Yes, it’s Taylor. Joe?” Taylor of course remembered his name, how could she forget. Not only was he one of the most attractive people she’d ever seen, she also was a teacher so was trained from day one to remember names and faces. That helped a lot.

“Yes” he nodded.

“Cool”

“Cool” Joe almost whispered back.

They were surrounded by an awkward silence until another child came bursting through the door. Both adults whipped their heads around, Joe quickly grabbing the door before it smashed against the wall.

“Olivia!” Poppy yelled startling Taylor a little.

“I guess that’s my cue” Joe laughed.

“Yeah, well, hope you enjoy the show” she waved as he walked back through the door and down to the performance hall.

-

“We want to welcome our littlest and last performers from Miss Swift’s class to the stage” the announcer took to the stage to introduce the kids. The group of twenty-four and five-year olds following behind getting into their correct positions. Taylor helping place them and handing them their props that had been made for the special day.

Joe’s eyes kept flicking between his daughter and Taylor, she was wearing red pants with a red and white striped blouse. Very candy cane. She looked absolutely beautiful though, in-fact she looked more than beautiful. Joe decided in that moment he definitely needed to ask her to dinner. He knew it may be inappropriate, although he wasn’t sure, he just knew he had to ask, to try.

He felt bad for staring but just couldn’t quite take his eyes off her and she could feel it, his piercing eyes on her as she couldn’t help but turn to smile.

“She’s very lovely” his Mother interrupted his train of thoughts. “Ask her, I think she would say yes” Elizabeth continued.

Joe stared back, bewildered. Only his Mother could know exactly what he was thinking. She smiled at him before turning her attention back to the stage.

As he turned back he saw Taylor had made her way to the corner of the room and was sat at the piano. The announcer counted them in and she began to play the intro to ‘When Santa Got Stuck Up The Chimney’. Poppy stood front and centre on the stage, belting her heart out. Her eyes connected with Joe’s and suddenly she couldn’t stop herself from waving, she was absolutely beaming with excitement. He couldn’t be more proud, although she was growing too fast he loved her ‘big girl’ personality.

The kids sang three other songs, all accompanied by Taylor on the piano. The best had to be ‘Jingle Bell Rock’, it included twenty young children all trying to remember hand actions to go along with the beat and completely failing. It was so sweet yet so hilarious, the parents couldn’t help but laugh to themselves.

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, did you like it? Did I do good?” Poppy ran from the stage and leapt into her Father’s arms. He pulled her tightly, kissing the top of her head multiple times.

“Of course you did pumpkin, you sounded like an angel!” Joe held her in his arms and placed a big kiss on her cheek. He’d never made it to one of these concerts or shows even the ones from preschool, but seeing how happy it made her, he decided her would really try to make it to everything.

“Miss Sw-Taylor!” The little girl smiled at the blonde tried to walk past.

“Hello Miss Poppy, you did awesome” Taylor high-fived the little girl who was still being held in her Father’s arms.

“Hey…” Joe butted in before quickly racking his brain to fill the awkward silence he had caused. “So I never actually thanked you, for earlier, for cheering her up, so I just wanted to say thank you.” Joe paused for a moment “And I really want to repay you so Poppy and I are going for a treat to the bakery. If you don’t have anything else planned we would love it if you could join us.”

“Oh um, ok.” Taylor paused “that’ll be nice, thank you!” she smiled at him ”I will be a little while though. I need to help clean up and grab my things.”

“We can help” Joe said placing Poppy to the ground before waving goodbye to his parents and beginning to fold up the chairs.

Poppy sat quietly on the edge of the stage whilst the adults cleaned up. The two of them along with a few other members of staff had to stack the one hundred or so chairs, place the kids benches back along the wall and deal with all the props that had been used during show. These including confetti and glitter which just so happen to be two of the worst things to clean up.

“I think using glitter is the biggest mistake I’ve ever had” Taylor chuckled to herself. When working with five-year olds, everything is a possibility for disaster.

“I have to say, I can’t disagree” Joe said grabbing the broom to sweep the floor, ”it’s fun at the time but the clean-up is hellish” he continued ”kids will be finding this stuff on the floor for weeks.”

“Daddy! Look at my Valentines cards I made with Nana!” A three-year old Poppy squealed with excitement, running into her Father’s office. He was in the middle of an email as she jumped into his lap grinning from ear to ear.

“Oh it’s beautiful love, and that glitter” Joe paused looking up at his Mother who was stood at the door frame ”will definitely not be stuck to every surface of the house for the next four years!”

“Will you be my Valentine Daddy?” The little girl turned to look at him, her big blue eyes staring straight at his.

“Of course silly! I will always be your Valentine”

“So what would you two ladies like to eat?” Joe grinned as he held open the door for Taylor after the ten minute car ride across town.

The little North London bakery had been Joe’s favourite since he was a child. His Grandmother used to bring him and his brothers there. The owners were like family to him and now Poppy too. It’s the pairs favourite weekend spot for hot chocolate and treats. They had gorgeous cakes and great coffee’s, the interior was old school yet chic. They used fancy cups and saucers with stunning intricate designs.

“I’m not a lady, I’m a Poppy” the little girl said seriously whilst Joe lifted her down from his shoulders.

After a few minutes of decision-making, the trio ended up with one giant chocolate chip cookie for Poppy, a blueberry muffin for Taylor and a chocolate muffin for Joe. They found a table by the window and began chatting whilst watching the evening rush of cars go past. Their comfortable silence occasionally broken by Poppy mumbling about how good her cookie was.

“So Miss Taylor” Joe grinned making fun of what his daughter had said earlier. “How did you come to be the best Kindergarten teacher in London?” She chuckled in response. “Seriously, this kid doesn’t shut up about you!” He pointed at Poppy who was sat next to him very focused on her giant cookie.

“Well, I grew up on a farm in upstate New York actually. My Father worked on Wall Street so I never really spent that much time with him other than dinner and an hour or so before bed. My Mother looked after my brother and I along with all our animals. My Mother always says I had a caring nature even with the animals, but I began tutoring elementary and middle school kids when I was in high school and really loved it. Then whilst I was studying for my degree in teaching I got the opportunity of a transfer to London and I took it. It was great because I got to get away from everyone and everything I knew and just be a new person almost. With some help from savings and the teaching job, my friend and I now rent a little place in Ealing so I just jump on the tube every day at 7am and then ride it back again in the evening.” Taylor paused and took a bite of her muffin. “What about you Mr Joseph? What do you do that makes you fancy enough to have your own chauffeur?”

By the time Joe had finished telling her all about his company and how Poppy came to be (very delicately due to her presence at the table), all three of them had finished their treats and Poppy was half asleep in her chair. Tired from the busy day at school and the performance.

“I think your little miss is falling asleep” Taylor laughed and pointed towards the little girl whose eyes were desperately trying to stay open fighting the sleep. “And I need to get home because I teach piano at the school on Saturday mornings!”

“Oh” Joe didn’t really want her to leave, but her couldn’t think of a reason for her to stay any longer. “We’ll drive you back” he gestured towards the door.

“No it’s ok, you get her to bed” Taylor began to shove her things in her bag that was also filled with sheet music from the performance, packets of glitter from the props and various other Christmas themed items.

“I wouldn’t want anything to hap-”

“Joe I get the underground home every night, I will be fine” she knew he was just trying to be nice and he was very sweet but this entire situation was slightly inappropriate. She didn’t know what she was thinking earlier. She was pretty sure as a teacher she was not supposed to spend time with her students Father’s outside of school.

“Do you know, you getting the tube home is actually really handy for me?”

“Oh really?” Taylor raised her eyebrows.

“It just means that I get to ask for your phone number so I can check that you get home safely.” There was a sudden wave of confidence and Joe had no idea what he was saying, but the words were just coming out of his mouth.

“And what if I say no?” She was intrigued by him, the last two minutes of conversation had completely switched his personality. He was being cheeky and she couldn’t help but throw it right back at him.

“Then that would suck because I can’t think of another way to get your number and I definitely need it for when I want to ask you to dinner next week.”

“Oh wow! Now that’s unfortunate” she poked her tongue out at him playfully. “Anyway Joseph I have to get going, I don’t want to wake up late tomor-“ she got up from their table and walked towards the door.

“Wait what about-“

“I’ll see you later Joe” She quickly walked out the door knowing that if she didn’t, she would cave. He was very sweet and he wasn’t bad to look at either but he was her students Father. The whole tube ride back to Ealing had her heart and brain fighting, her mind was swirling, her heart said yes but her brain just kept telling her how ridiculous it was.

When she walked in the door, her roommate Lucy was sat on the sofa in her pyjamas watching the latest episode of a show they’d been bingeing together on Netflix.

“I started watching it without you because you took too long, where the fuck have you been?” She yelled into the kitchen where Taylor was putting down her stuff on the counter.

Their place was only small, a little squishy for the two of them but they made it work. Ironically neither of them actually spent much time in the flat apart from in the evenings, and Taylor more so on the weekends. Lucy was a teacher too, she was a few years older than Taylor and taught in the local primary school a five-minute walk away.  It was crazy to Taylor how different the mainstream and prep schools were, they would often compare their schedules and Taylor felt like she was constantly at that school doing something or other. She wouldn’t change it for the world though. Her job was her favourite thing.

“What took you so long?” Lucy said walking into the kitchen to put the empty bowl from her popcorn in the sink.

“You know the really cute Dad I was telling you about who I’d never seen before until yesterday?” the friend nodded “well his daughter was upset and I was looking after her and after the performance he asked if I wanted to go get a cake with them after as a thank you. And I said ok-“ Lucy squealed with excitement. “So we went out and we were talking and he was very sweet and then I realised that I was being so stupid because Lucy this is my students Father! So when he asked me for my number I had to say no-“

“You said no? Are you crazy? You didn’t shut up about this guy yesterday!”

“I know, I know but you’re telling me that you don’t think it’s inappropriate?” She questioned.

“Oh it is weird but I don’t know the rules at your ‘kids with trust funds’ school.” Taylor laughed, “besides you’ll only be the kids teacher for one year, it’s not like she’s going to stay in Kindergarten forever. There’s only six months of it left now!” Lucy grinned poking her in the shoulder.

“You’re no help whatsoever” Taylor huffed and rolled her eyes.

“Well you’re welcome anyway” she grinned cheekily. “I’m going to bed and you should too because you have to be back at that school at an ungodly hour for a Saturday morning.” The brunette walked up the stairs leaving Taylor alone with her thoughts. Part of her now wished she had have given him her number, maybe they’d be texting right now rather than her just thinking about texting him.

[voightsgirl]

crossfire: volume i - chapter 11

a/n ahhhh life is so hard and i’m soooo behind on chicago pd but here’s another chapter for y’all           & previous chapters can be found here

☆ grief like that is in the small print ☆

“Hey, kid,” Burgess said as she entered the break room. “How are you doing?”

Avery groaned. “You mean aside from the fact that I’ve been sat in this boring room for hours and have resorted to rating each of the beams on the ceiling out of ten for how well they’d take my weight?” she said darkly.

Burgess frowned. “I don’t …”

“See, in order to hang yourself,” Avery began, and the look of horror on the cop’s face made the boredom almost worth it.

“You know, I actually meant about the other stuff. Luca. Erin.”

Avery swallowed. “So what’s the deal with that?” she asked.

“The deal with what?”

“Erin. And Voight.”

Burgess screwed her face up slightly. “I don’t want to betray her trust…” she started.

“It’s okay. She already told me that he helped her out when she was my age. I just want to know from what. And what happened after that.”

“You want to know if it’ll be the same for you?”

Avery just shrugged. She didn’t need to respond – Burgess already knew that the answer was yes.

“Listen, all I know is that every time there’s a kid in here on the wrong side of the law, Erin gets that same look on her face. As you may have noticed, she isn’t the most open of people. But I know for a fact – everyone in the unit knows – that every time she loses someone it’s more than a fight for her to come out the other end.”

“Like Justin and Lexi?” Avery asked.

At the sharp intake of breath Burgess gave at the sound of their names, Avery backtracked.

“I’m sorry. They’re in the photo.” She gestured at the corkboard. “Erin told me about them earlier, that they both died a couple of years ago.”

Burgess nodded, remembering Erin crying into her shoulder after Justin’s death, and comforting Al when Lexi had died.

“How?”

She snapped out of her thought. “How what?”

“How did they die?”

“I’m – I’m not sure that’s really my place to…”

“Oh, come on, Burgess –”

“You can call me Kim, you know. I’m only Burgess to my coworkers and when we’re in the interrogation box.”

“Okay. Come on, Kim. I’m so bored in here.”

Burgess sighed. “Okay. Fine – fine! Justin…Justin was trying to help a friend get out of a sticky situation, and he was murdered for it. Erin and Voight found him in the trunk of his car with a bullet hole in his head and barbed wire wrapped around him.”

“Oh my God,” Avery breathed. “That’s – that’s so awful. I’m so sorry.”

Burgess nodded grimly. “Yeah. It was. The only thing that kept Erin going through that, I’m pretty sure, was the fact that she had Jay.”

In spite of herself, Avery smiled slightly. “And what happened to Lexi?”

“Lexi…Lexi was in college when she died. She was at a party in an old warehouse, and a complete psycho locked the kids in there and torched the place.”

“I heard about that,” Avery said. “I mean, I was only a kid –” Burgess raised her eyebrows, indicating that in her eyes, Avery was still very much a kid, “—when I heard about it, but one of the other kids at this care home I was staying at was at that party.”

“Thirty two young adults were killed that day. One of them as good as one of our own. There wasn’t a single dry eye in the bullpen when we found out that Lexi had died in surgery. We’d all watched that kid grow up.”

Her voice, like Erin’s, began to grow tight and thick. Even years later, they still couldn’t quite get over something as profound as losing someone who was like their little sister.

“I’m sorry, Kim. I didn’t mean to bring back old memories; I just wanted to know why…”

Burgess shook her head again. “No, it’s okay. I want people to know what happened to them. They died heroes, trying to help other people. And besides, grief like that is in the small print when you sign up at the academy. God knows this unit has seen its fair share of deaths.”

Avery looked shocked. “There were more?”

Burgess smiled sadly. “Come on,” she beckoned her. “I think you should see this.”

☆

Several minutes later, the cop and the young girl were stood outside the district, facing the plaques that were lined up over the wall. Burgess remembered trying to get Nadia’s memorial stone printed, and how much effort Platt had been to in order to do so. Tears stung her eyes as the grief of that day came back and hit her again.

“Brian T Strousser,” Avery read. “Richard J O’Brien. William J Luce. Julie B Willhite. Sheldon Jin. Nadia Decotis…who were they? Did you know any of them?” she couldn’t explain where her sudden curiosity was coming from. She’d hated cops her whole life – or at least, once she’d realized that Detective Lindsay’s words about “looking out for her” were no longer in play once she’d moved onto bigger and better things, she’d stopped believing that cops really were the good guys. She’d always just assumed that their hearts stopped working when they were on a case, and that when a case closed, so did their empathy. But seeing Erin, the very person who’d made her stop believing in the system, so choked up, had got her thinking, and had got her seeing, not just a badge and a gun in front of her, but a human being.

Burgess’s face fell at the question. Did you know any of them? “Three of them, actually,” she said quietly, and Avery turned to face her.

“Sorry,” she said again. She was stuck in that awkward place between wanting to know and not wanting to upset Burgess.

“No, stop apologizing,” Burgess smiled. “Their names and their stories are right here. The fact that you want to know is everything. It’s why we have these plaques. Jin I only knew in passing. He was Intelligence’s tech guy, before he was murdered by a power-hungry Internal Affairs officer who wanted to take down Voight and was willing to sacrifice many an underdog on his way down. Willhite…she was in Intelligence, too. Amazing woman. Antonio’s partner. Mom, wife, good friend – shot in the face while working a drug dealer turned murderer, died in the ICU. Erin was holding her hand when she died.”

“Wow. That’s rough. I didn’t realize you guys…”

“In Intelligence we know what we sign up for. We risk our lives the same way these brave men and women did every single day, and we want to. For the city. And for people like you.”

Avery just nodded, still not entirely convinced. “Who was the other?”

“Hmm?”

“You said you knew three of the names up here, but you only told me about two.”

Burgess swallowed. “Um, Nadia. Nadia Decotis. She was my friend.”

“How did she die?”

Another deep breath. There had been a lot of these in the run of the conversation. “I’m afraid that really wouldn’t be my place to tell you. Nadia was my friend, but she was Erin’s best friend. I’m sorry, but Nadia’s story is Erin’s to tell you, okay?”

Avery frowned slightly. “Okay,” she agreed, her voice coming out as barely more than a whisper.

She hadn’t realized that Erin, too, had lost her best friend. Apparently they had more in common than she thought.

☆

The murder board in the bullpen was filling up pretty fast.

“That was Halstead,” Voight addressed the team who had assembled – minus Antonio – in the room in front of him as he got off the phone with the detective, who was still at Chicago Med, waiting for Jason Andrews to wake up from the coma that he had slipped into after the surgery. “Jason has survived surgery and it’s looking good. He’s not out of the woods yet, but provided he wakes up in the next couple days, he should pull through.”

The unit let out a collective sigh of relief.

“Al, Ruzek, I want you to go and talk to Jason’s girlfriend. Matilda Hart, the parents said her name was.”

“On it, boss,” said Ruzek, and the partners left together. Al was muttering something darkly under his breath and Ruzek seemed to be laughing. They made a good team, even if they were a literal embodiment of the “old cop, young cop” dynamic. The rest of the unit sometimes joked behind their backs that they’d kill each other one day – they’d survive bullet wounds and gunfights and bombs, only to be driven insane by their partner.

“Erin, I want you to run these photographs past Avery. See if she recognizes any of them,” Voight commanded. “And Burgess, Atwater, can you visit Jason’s school. Especially the basketball coach.”

“Sure,” Erin said, and Atwater and Burgess began to gather their things.

“Hey,” Erin greeted the teenager when she entered the room. She didn’t ask how she was – it was a little petty, she’d admit, but she was still annoyed at her comment before. Anyway, she definitely wanted to keep this interaction impersonal. She was on official business.

“Hey,” Avery replied. Clearly she hadn’t forgotten their conversation earlier. “If—”

Erin held up a finger to silence her. “I need you to look at some photographs for us. See if you recognize any of these people.”

She laid out thirteen photographs in front of her. Avery peered into each one carefully.

“No,” she shook her head. “The guy I saw was definitely Hispanic. The guy who shot Luca.”

“I don’t mean the killer. I mean just – anyone you’d seen around Luca. If he was working to take down his uncle’s operation, he must have had some contact with these people.”

“Who are they?”

“Other victims.”

“Are they all dead?”

Erin sighed. She was so nosy. “All but this one,” she said, tapping Jason Andrews’s photograph.”

Avery peered down at the eighteen year old smiling back at her. “He’s kinda hot,” she said, shrugging. “Actually…” she frowned, thinking hard for a second. “Does he go to Lakewood?”

Erin frowned. “Yes, how did you…?”

“I saw him! He was talking to Luca, the other day. I only caught a glimpse of his face for a millisecond, but he had a letterman jacket on, and I could see the name of the school on the back. The only reason I remembered is ‘cause I remember thinking that he was hot.”

Erin rolled her eyes. “Okay. Did you hear what they were talking about?”

She shook her head. “No. But they looked pretty serious.”

“Thank you,” Erin said, and grabbed the photographs from the table.

Before she could leave the room, Avery stopped her. “Erin, I’m sorry about what I said earlier. Thank you for offering to help me.”

The detective shrugged. “That’s okay.”

They smiled at each other briefly and Erin left the break room, calling her sergeant as she went.

☆ ☆ ☆

thank you for reading!! if you’d like to be notified when it’s updated either head over to my ff.net account or message me and i’ll tag you at the end of the post :)

@allenting @sophiaxjesse @writteninthestarsandthesky @riverdaleangels @chillmydude @halsteadpd

[sparrowwritings]

Writing Challenge 11: Booklet

Previous Day -- Original Post -- Next Day

“You know you don’t need to keep your face in that tourist info thing the whole time, right?” Daeglan called from where he was walking a few steps ahead. “You’ll run into something at this rate. Or someone.” 

Robert looked up from his reading and adjusted his glasses to get a better look at the other man. “I’m well versed in reading and walking, thank you.” 

“He used to do it a lot when we were kids,” Matilda chimed in. She was currently holding Dae’s hand as they walked side by side. 

“What, that’s changed since then?” Daeglan asked sarcastically. They both laughed while Robert rolled his eyes. 

It was the first vacation that the Sophos family had been on together in a very long time. It was also the first to include Daeglan Faires and his son Jerran. Robert had brought up the idea of going to the historical city of Capital during his summer break, but Matilda had argued that all three siblings go. It had taken considerably more convincing for her to get her older brother to agree to bring Daeglan and Jerran along. He’d finally agreed when she had mentioned that their younger brother needed someone to play with while the adults were busy looking at the ruins and artifacts that the city housed. The fact that Matilda was currently dating Daeglan was just a side benefit. Or so Robert had been assured. 

Right now, he was getting a little tired of being witness to the two of them being a couple. All the more reason to keep his face in a booklet for the whole trip, in his opinion.

7-year-old Caleb and 5-year-old Jerran, who had both been preoccupied with the display in a shop window, sprinted ahead to chase after the pigeons that plagued the city. Matilda let go of Daeglan’s hand to go after them. As he watched her leave, Robert couldn’t help but notice where the other man’s eyes were going. It reminded him all too well of the LAST man to look at his sister that way, and what had resulted from it. The booklet wasn’t very large, but he managed to close it with a loud enough thump to get Daeglan’s attention.

“I’ve been meaning to speak to you for a while now, Daeglan,” Robert began, adjusting his glasses as he spoke. There was a smudge on one of the lenses, much to his annoyance. “About your relationship with my sister.” 

Daeglan’s face went from confused to cautious in an instant. “What about it?” His tone was defensive, and he drew himself to his full height. When faced against such a physically stronger, severely scarred, and larger man, any other person might have been scared for their life. Instead, Robert chose to take his glasses case out of a pocket and use the cloth inside to wipe the lenses clean. It was best to avoid eye contact for the moment, anyway.

“Are you aware that she had been in a serious relationship before you both started dating?” Robert could feel Daeglan’s bright blue eyes bore into the side of his head. “There is a point that I would like to get to with this, I’d appreciate it if you would humor me for a moment.” He held the silver frames close to his face and squinted at the glass. The lens was still smudged. He tried to clean it again.

Daeglan was quiet for a moment before he answered. “She didn’t give me a lot of solid details, but it’s clear that he wasn’t good for her.” Near sighted as Robert was, he still could tell that he was no longer being watched by the other man. A brief glimpse through his glasses focused the shape of Faires’ face and showed it to be gazing into the middle distance. “It’s--we’re--” He sighed. “There’s times when she’ll make a mistake. Something really small, usually. And Mat’ll just, apologize for it over and over again like she’s expecting something bad to happen to her if she doesn’t. It’s only been recently that she’s let me show more than just a little bit of affection in public. Apparently the other guy--I don’t remember his name and honestly I don’t want to--didn’t like it? And she just kinda took it to heart? It’s just, really upsetting to think about.” 

Robert, having finally managed to remove the smudge, returned his glasses to where they belonged on his face. When they were settled, he gave a curt nod. “Without going into specifics, you’re right on all accounts.” He absently tapped the cover of the booklet while glancing up at Daeglan. “So you can understand my concern when Matilda insisted on bringing you with us on our vacation. 

“He--and I shall similarly not name him--had been a frequent guest of ours when we went on trips with our parents. After our father died and our mother...” Robert had to pause and turn away, as he always did went talking about his mother, but he continued, “Became unfit to raise our brother, he left as soon as Matilda had gained legal custody of Caleb. She’s done a fine job of raising him, but the emotional toll on her was quite heavy. Her burden seems to have greatly lightened since she met you.” Robert directed his dark blue gaze onto Daeglan’s bright blue one. “If my sister returns to the place where she was before she met you, there will be consequences.”

Slowly, realization took over Daeglan’s face. “Wait, is this your version of the ‘if you break her heart, i’ll break you’ conversation? Really?” A smile played at his lips. “I honestly didn’t know you had it in you, Rob.” 

Ignoring the nickname, Robert crossed his arms. “I wasn’t talking about my own ability to harm you should Matilda come to harm, though I would do everything in my power to make certain you’d suffer.” Daeglan looked like he was about to laugh. Robert didn’t blame him. After all, what was a history professor to do against an ex-military man? “I was talking about how devastated she would be should she be betrayed in that way again.” 

The laughter vanished from the taller man’s face and was replaced with sheer panic.  “I can’t--I wouldn’t--I swear I would NEVER--She means too much to me for me to--” Robert raised up a hand to stop the babbling. He started smiling, despite himself.

“This response is one of many reasons why I’ve decided to trust you. You’ve shown nothing but kindness and caring for Matilda. I might have been annoyed by the displays of affection you both have given each other, but they have all been real.” His smile grew a little wider. “It’s clear that you love her enough that you would rather die than see her truly upset. I say this having been called ‘the most love blind idiot in the known universe’ by a colleague.” 

Daeglan, who had been in a state of bewilderment, snorted. “They were right if you only just NOW noticed that.” 

“I can safely assure you that I noticed before this moment.” Robert glanced up the street, where Matilda was leading the energetic boys back down the path by their hands. “If it helps matters, I do wish to spend more time getting to know you, Daeglan. Part of my hesitance in doing so did indeed come from previous experience, you understand.” 

Daeglan looked where Robert did and his expression softened. “Completely.” Just before the three got close enough to hear the conversation he added, “You know you can just call me Dae, right?”

“I didn’t wish to do so without permission.” Robert paused. “Though I would like to say that I prefer Robert over Rob.”

“Gotcha.”

The vacation was a lot better for everyone after that.

[blue-sky-and-rain]

a lil bit of writing

based on this post by @millionsbyname (i really hope you don’t mind me doing this)

“Lines I feel they could have a rageful Ethan say in upcoming episodes... “ - kinda written in small scenes, with the name of the person in it at the top of each scene :) I may have gotten carried away a bit with Dylan’s one.

ft. angry ethan and the poor staff members who are taking the brunt of it: connie, sam, dylan, charlie, jez, alicia, lily, that poor staffroom wall... on and kinda nobody in the end scene

and i guess this could all happen in the same universe, there will be crossover mistakes but i only decided near the end and i’m too tired to check properly xD and there are exactly 3,020 words here of ethan in emotional turmoil so read at your own risk

Connie

Word Count: 268

“Why aren’t you doing anything?!” Ethan shouted. “You should be out there looking for my brother’s murderer! Not in here asking me more questions!”

The rage was bubbling inside him. It had been from the moment the police officers approached him again, asking for a word... again. It wouldn’t do anything. Ethan didn’t know anything! All he knew was his brother was dead and no one was doing anything about it!

“Ethan, maybe we should take this to my office,” Charlie suggested, hands up like he was approaching a wild animal. 

“What good is that going to do? Cal’s killer isn’t going to be in there, you know, Charlie.” He turned back to the officers. “And he’s not just going to walk into reception either. You’re not going to catch him here!”

Then Connie stood forward from the gathering crowd of staff members and patients alike. “Ethan. Look, take this into Charlie’s office, okay? We’ll sort it out in there.”

Ethan grabbed fistfuls of his hair in anger. “Cal’s dead and no one is doing anything about it!”

“Calm down, Ethan. This isn’t helping.”

Ethan stared at Connie with such rage his eyes could have burned through her. He was literally shaking with anger and his voice was shaking as he spoke. “With all due respect Mrs Beauchamp it wasn't your family member they stabbed to death on our doorstep!”

“I understand t-”

“No, you don’t! No-one does!”

Alicia came to him. “Ethan-” she began.

“Leave me alone.”

And he walked out without another word. If the police weren’t going to find the embodiment of evil, Ethan would.

Sam

Word Count: 279

“Come on, you need a drink.”

Ethan allowed himself to be led by Alicia from his car and into the pub. While a drink sounded enticing, as soon as he stepped over the threshold of the Hope and Anchor, he was flooded with memories. Of his brother. Of when they had a drink together. Of the night when... He was in this very pub when Cal was bleeding out. When Cal was dying. When Cal died.

“I’ll order,” she said softly. “You go and sit down, okay?” She rubbed his arm carefully as if he might break, and he went and found a seat.

He closed his eyes and rested his head back against the seat, trying to breathe deeply as the day caught up with him.

God, he was tired.

Someone cleared their throat, and Ethan cracked his eyes open. In front of him stood Sam. Sam Strachan was stood awkwardly in front of him.

“Um, I just wanted to say, I’m sorry. For your loss. Your brother had a bright future ahead of him.”

And then the tiredness was gone. Ethan sat up straight and his heart filled with hatred. How dare Sam Strachan say that to him after everything he did. A bright future? He was the one who took him off his surgical rotation.

“My brother hated what you were doing and how you were going about it so you can take your condolences and shove them.”

Sam looked suitably abashed. He turned and left with only a nod of his head and a sad look in his eyes.

And right now Ethan didn’t fucking care what Sam Strachan was feeling. His brother was dead.

Dylan

Word Count: 927

Ethan leant lethargically against the lockers, tapping Cal’s locker key against them and preparing himself to open it. He tried to make light of the situation - Cal probably had Ethan’s deodorant and possibly a few other things of Ethan’s so Ethan would get them back.

But if he had his brother back, Ethan wouldn’t ever want those things. Cal could keep them and have more if he wanted. He would do anything to get his brother back.

It had only been two weeks, but without his brother, it felt like a lifetime. And it surprised him, really. They had been apart for years without more than a few words exchanged with each other. Until Cal came back to Holby... and now they’ve been ripped apart again. 

And Cal’s not coming home this time.

“Would you like a hand?” came from behind him. He turned to see Elle by the doorway, looking at him with that God-awful sad look everyone had when they looked at him. 

Even Dylan had it, and his seemed even worse than everyone else's. According to Connie, he found Cal. Dylan found his dying brother. And although they couldn’t save him, he would forever he grateful. At least Cal died surrounded by friends...

...even if he wasn’t with his brother.

“Ethan?”

“Yes. Sorry. Um, no thank you. I’m... fine. Thank you.”

Elle smiled that sad smile that Ethan was tired of seeing. “I’m always here if you... want to talk.” 

Ethan found it surprising really. He’d heard that a lot, from a lot of people who would never have said it usually. It didn’t help. How could he ever go to someone about this when no-one understood?

Ethan nodded his head gratefully, which let some of the tears, he didn’t even know he’d been holding back, fall. He wiped them away hastily.

“Sorry.”

She shook her head, “don’t apologise, Ethan.” She stepped forward like she was bracing herself to say something. 

But Ethan turned around and slid Cal’s locker key into his locker. He could have laughed at what he saw in there. His eyes scanned through everything.

Yes, his deodorant was in there. But two of them. So that’s where they went. And then there was a spare asthma pump. Ethan hadn’t had a flare up since he was a kid... but the thought of Cal having it there made more tears spill down his cheeks. Then there were two photographs stuck to the door. One of Cal, Matilda and Ethan, and another of Cal, Emilie and Ethan. Oh, Cal. You’re becoming as sentimental as me... oh. Became. 

And then there were his spare glasses. The black, thick framed, rectangular ones that Cal always teased Ethan about. Ethan picked them up and looked at them, feeling their familiar weight.

Oh, Cal. You never stopped being my big brother.

“Cal was very brave, you know.”

Ethan spun around at the sound of Elle’s voice again. “

“When he... he was very brave. And he loved you, so much.”

Ethan didn’t respond. He felt a blockage in his throat, and it wasn’t from the tears. He managed a strangled, “what?”

“I just... thought you wanted to know. He asked for you... right at the end. He was so, so brave. And he loved you.”

Ethan didn’t want to hear this. He couldn’tcouldn’tcouldn’t. But he had to.

“What did he... what did he say?” 

More tears fell.

“I don’t know what he said when he was... found... but he asked for you. When we were treating him. He asked for you.”

The glasses fell from his hand. He had spent this whole bloody time believing his brother died peacefully and without pain. 

But he didn’t. He was in pain. He wanted Ethan. He was conscious and probably scared and he wanted Ethan. 

Dylan lied to him.

And that’s all he was focused on when he stormed out of the staffroom, uncaring of Elle, and rushed to find Dylan.

His feet and hands and body moved on their own accord and suddenly he found himself being pulled off Dylan after pinning him to a wall.

“You lied to me!” he screamed, being held back by Max and Charlie. His voice took a dangerous tone. An animalistic tone. “You lied to me. You lied to me about his dying moments. He asked for me didn't he?”

He wasn’t prepared, when he finally focused on Dylan’s face properly, to see it. Dylan looked scared.

But it didn’t deter Ethan.

“I want to know what he said Dylan and I want to know it now!”

Dylan couldn’t get the words out and Ethan was pulled back further when he went to lunge at Dylan again.

“Ethan, my office,” Connie barked from behind him.

But Ethan was only focused on the man stood in front of him. The fucking liar.

“Now!”

He slid out of the grip of the people holding him back and spun around to Connie. “He lied to me! My brother asked for me! He was scared and in pain and conscious and he lied!”

Dylan found his voice. “To save you the pain of it!” he shouted back.

“What more pain could I feel?!” he screamed. “It’s alright for you. You didn’t even like Cal! Newsflash, Dylan. He’s my brother!”

And just like that, Dylan snapped. “But I promised him he wouldn’t die.”

Ethan’s whole world crashed down right there and then when he realised what he’d done. He fell to his knees, in the middle of reception, and cried. 

And he wasn’t the only one.

Charlie

Word Count: 411

Ethan punched the wall. And then he punched it again. And he kept on punching it, not caring of the crimson now staining it or the paintwork flaking away. He didn’t care. He didn’t fucking care anymore because Cal was dead and it had been five fucking weeks and Cal’s killer hadn’t been found.

Then he was pulled back and dragged to the sofa. He was handed a tissue and there was an arm around his shoulders.

He was crying?

No, he realised. He was full-on sobbing and screaming. He wanted to punch something. He wanted to punch something so hard that his hand broke and his arm broke and his shoulder dislocated so maybe he could experience even half the pain Cal did. Because he didn’t care anymore.

He looked to the right of him, and through blurry eyes saw Charlie trying to comfort him and treat his hand. 

“It’s okay, Ethan. We’ll sort this out.”

Ethan wanted to tell him to go away and get out, but he didn’t have the strength. So he just cried. He pulled away from Charlie and shrunk into the sofa and cried.

He didn’t know how long it took for the crying to stop. But he’d run out of tears and the little energy he had left from his morning caffeine fix. He vaguely registered Charlie making tea, but he just wanted him to go. He didn’t need Charlie, he didn’t need anyone anymore.

The only person he ever needed was Cal and Cal was dead.

Charlie sat next to him, with two steaming cups of tea. “Look, why don’t you drink your tea and we’ll talk. About anything.”

Ethan didn’t even sit up. His voice was dull and his brain was numbed and all he wanted to do was sleep. Somewhere within him, he found the words and the energy to finally deal with the nurse sitting next to him. “I'm not my brother, I don't need your emotional advice, alright Charlie? Let me deal with this how I want to deal with this and keep out of it.”

"Even if it means destroying the staffroom walls?” He laughed slightly.

He fucking what?

“I don’t know how you think you laugh when my brother is lying in a mortuary!” he shouted as he stood up.

“Ethan...”

“Leave me alone! For God’s sake, just leave me alone!”

And although Ethan wanted it and he got it, now he felt more alone than ever.

Jez

Word Count: 295

Ethan saw them and was disgusted. He was all for fair treatment to a family of a murderer because they weren’t the murderer, but to see Jez kissing Scott Ellison’s fucking brother... that was as good as kissing a murderer. 

He saw red. Without even stopping to think, Ethan stormed over to the pair, dragged Mickey off Jez, and punched him square in the jaw.

The relief came from two things. That was Scott Ellison’s brother, and Cal taught him how to punch like that.

It was like a big Fuck You, in flashing lights, from Cal.

“What the hell, man?!” Jez exclaimed as he helped Mickey up from the floor and stood protectively in front of him, fire blazing in his eyes.

“You’re defending him, you’re kissing him after what his brother did to Cal?” he shouted.

“Hey, we don’t even know it was Scott.”

Ethan clenched his fists at the side. If Jez wasn’t careful, he would soon be getting a black eye. “Of course it was! And this is his brother! This is the brother and son of racists and murderers and you’re kissing him!”

From behind Jez, Mickey sneered at him. Ethan was ready to punch him again when Jez pushed him back.

“Lay off, Ethan. Stop being such a child.”

Ethan shook his head furiously, defiantly.

Jez hesitated. “Cal wouldn't want this. This isn’t like you.”

That was the final straw. “If you think I'm going to stand by and let my brother's murderer and his family walk away unpunished then you don't know me or anything about me.” He turned his attention back to Mickey. “If I were you, I’d tell that brother of yours to be careful.”

And then he walked off, the threat hanging in the air.

Alicia + Lily (yep, in the same scene)

Word Count: 310

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Lily said as she started to bandage up his hand. “Mickey’s done nothing wrong. And there’s no actual proof that it was Scott.”

Ethan jumped up from the cubicle bed he’d been sat on since Alicia and Lily had dragged him away from Cal’s bench... where he also had a bleeding hand (and it’s not the first time either of them had found him like that). 

Lily raised her hands. “I’m not saying it wasn’t him. But there is someone out there who did... kill Cal. But you can’t go around punching people until they catch them.”

Ethan was trembling. “Whoever it is, they killed my brother, Lily. They took him away from me. Someone has to pay for that okay?” He paced the room. “Someone has to pay,” he growled. 

“I haven’t finished your han-”

“Someone... out there. Someone killed my brother. And before you tell me it wasn’t, of course, it was Scott! Who else would it be?”

“That doesn’t mean you can punch his brother. There are... better ways to deal with this, you know.”

Ethan clenched his fists hard, making the grazes on his knuckles from where he’s punched numerous things open again. Droplets of blood leaked from them.

“You need time, Ethan. Time to grieve properly. Without laying into something or... or someone. I know you’re hurting, Ethan. I get i-”

“You think you have the right to tell me how to grieve for my brother? You still have all of your family, Alicia, so excuse me if I'm questioning your ability to relate,” he spat.

“No, I-”

“Save it. Both of you. I’m sick of this! No-one, no-one knows how this feels! I wish everyone would just leave me alone!”

But all he wanted, all he really wanted was for someone to properly understand.

He just felt so alone.

To the entire hospital who are getting on with stuff and ignoring the fact that Cal is dead

Word Count: 530

It seemed like normal. It looked like everyone was just... carrying on. And that hurt. Cal, a colleague and a friend, was stabbed outside the ED and died in the ED, in resus, in Bay 4, seemed to be forgotten.

He stood and stared at Bay 4 as the world blurred around him. This was becoming a common occurrence for him now. Standing at staring at the place where he’d seen Cal’s cold, pale and dead body lie. Eventually, someone would always have to drag him out and get him out of the bubble he found himself in.

And it was happening again. He was in his own disconnected reality. Stood in resus, staring at Bay 4.

But this time, when someone tried to pull him away, he wasn’t going to take it. Cal was dead and no-one seemed to care.

“Ethan, come on. You have to get out of here.” 

That was Charlie. It was mostly always Charlie. Sometimes it was Connie, or Dylan, or Jacob or even Max. Sometimes it was Elle, or David, Lily or Alicia. Once it was Louise. 

But it never mattered. Because it was never Cal.

“No,” he mumbled. 

“Dr Hardy.” The use of that name brought him fully out of his trance. He turned around and saw Connie. “Please. You can’t be in here.”

“My brother died in here. You... you don’t understand. I need to be here.”

Her eyes softened. When he looked behind here, outside the resus doors, he saw the usual crowd of his colleagues. Concerned, worried... but not sad. Never sad because it was like Cal had just disappeared. 

“I know you do, Ethan. But this is a hospital. This is resus.”

She was speaking to him like a child. And perhaps that’s what he had become in their eyes. But he wasn’t. When he was a child, he had Cal.

But Cal was dead now. Ethan was all alone.

“Ethan.” It was Jacob who spoke now. It wasn’t rough or threatening. It was soft, harmless. He approached him. “Come on, we have to go now.”

“No. No, no, no, no, no!”

He sounded like a petulant child. He knew he did. But Cal died in here. Ethan wasn’t there, but he could be now.

“Ethan... there are patients in this hospital. You’re causing a sce-”

That was it. “Oh, my apologies, am I causing a scene? My brother had his life taken in this place, so you'll excuse me if YOU’LL ALLOW ME A SCENE!” He spun back around to walk over to the empty Bay 4.

His knees buckled and he fell with a thump. But he felt no pain.

He started crying, howling almost.

“Let’s get you out of here, Ethan.” Charlie knelt beside him. “Come on.”

“I don’t want to be here!”

Charlie rubbed his back soothingly. “Let’s go. Come with me, and we’ll go.”

“No! You don’t understand!” he screamed hoarsely.

“So help me understand, Ethan. Help us understand.”

“I want to be with him, Charlie. I want to be with my brother!”

He sobbed as he fell against Charlie weakly, everything finally catching up with him.

I miss you, Cal. I love you.

[krokodile]

1, 7, 18, 22!

YAY I LOVE WHEN PEOPLE ACTUALLY ASK ME STUFF.

1. My first show was the Les Miz 3rd National Tour in February of 1997.  The tenth anniversary Broadway production was preparing for that big day and the tour was making a stop in NYC for a few weeks.  I’d become obsessed with the show (which was of course just a gateway drug) and when rear orch seats were announced at something like $35 (premium front orch seats used to be $85; times have changed) during a radio ad, I badgered my parents into agreeing to take me. 

Interestingly (to me anyway), our Young Cosette for the evening was Janel Parrish - whom I saw  20 years later *almost to the day* in a show for the second time (the Cruel Intentions concert).  I got to meet her after the show and thanked her for her part in my transformation into total musical trash.  She was very gracious about it!

We saw the original production of Sunset Blvd before that closed a few weeks later, which might TECHNICALLY be my first Broadway show, depending on how you define it; first Broadway company but not first Broadway theatre.  Also that show remains as the best musical experience of my life.  So I had to mention it somewhere.

7. Favorite musical is a hard one because, like, favorite in what sense??  Fun Home is literally perfect; it’s easily the best show I’ve ever seen.  But I don’t love it the most; original recipe Les Miz has my heart for eternity.  And Ragtime held the place as the closest thing to perfection I’d ever seen for nearly 20 years and I still think it’s a great show.  I loved the original production of Side Show with all my heart but I recognize that it wasn’t that GOOD (except for the flawless cast).  Matilda was the first show I truly fell in love with in this century and brought me back to theatre after over a decade. 

18. Favorite musical numbers is going to be a shorter list than I’d anticipated.  I’m a sucker for a good opening number, but my taste in songs tends to lean towards the quiet and emotional.  That said.

- Look Down, original Broadway staging.  The show really lost a lot without the turntables.

- One Day More.  If you don’t love this number, you’re broken or something. 

- Miracle (Matilda).  I’m a sucker for a good opening number and this has such a great Dahl tone.  It tells you exactly what you’re in for and it’s just so damn much fun.

- When I Grow Up (Matilda).  The kids in the audience are psyched and the adults are bawling; that’s how you know Tim Minchin got this song completely right. 

- Selling Out (American Psycho).  I just had so much FUN watching this, and that counts for a lot.  

- Aquarius (Hair).  IDK that song just makes me happy.

22. RHPS, A Chorus Line and Reefer Madness. 

[katrina-jutte-blog]

Message Received

Walking from Garenhoff to Divinities Reach was a pain in the fucking ass. By the time I reached the front gates my feet felt as if they were inflated balloons. If only that were the truth, it'd make the rest of the trip far easier. Of course I could take a waypoint like any sane citizen would however that shit cost money that was better suited for other items or ventures that could in turn grant me a greater payoff.

If tonight was any indication, my fortune telling booth would make a killing, not only recouping my costs, but bringing forth a windfall of at least triple what I put in. At first I was hoping to break a little over even, using this more as a way to get in good favor with the others at the academy. With this revelation doing such would only be a massive disappointment. All three readings gave me differed reactions, each giving pivotal insights.

With Caleb I saw that my act was engaging and enjoyable as he laughed off the reading heartily. Rose provided much of the same with a dash of audience participation, vocalizing what she felt each card meant to her, giving me a great deal to work with throughout the practice session. Key to this seems to be making it both vague yet specific enough that the guest can target in on a moment in their life. With Rose that was naturally the expulsion of the spirits within her, allowing me to build the rest of the reading off that. Admittedly that's easier to do when you know the people you are reading, but everyone has tells. I just need to be sure to keep my eyes and ears open.

Second reading was the most intriguing, showing that I could in fact be convincing. I'd thought Elle was merely humoring me with her questions regarding the validity of the readings. More I thought about it, less likely that seemed. Doing such would be entirely out of character for her. She was not one to humor nor intentionally make herself seem stupid. No, she held some level of belief in the words I told her. Why, I don't know. She of all people should know I'm merely bullshitting.

Somehow I feel it had less to do with what I said and more a timing of the words. There's no doubting that something got to her, be it needing to cut ties and retreat away from others or the distressing need to pass down her knowledge to another before it was too late. Two surprisingly go hand in hand despite their conflicting statements. You simply must look beyond the face value, looking deeper. Both told her something was coming.

With Elle there's no telling what that something may be. If she's as much like me as she seems to believe, her past is coming to swallow her up. Funnily enough, that's what my own reading told me, that I'd be reaping the seeds I'd sown. That to avoid it I needed to keep my eyes open to my surroundings, as if I never did that to begin with. Unlike Elle however I knew it was just a load of bullshit. All I'm doing is drawing a card from a deck, just random nonsense.

Doubt I'd even believe it if I got back to the academy with Elle in a body bag and that loon Matilda waiting in my dorm room to off me. Fact was fate and all that shit didn't really exist, just a bunch of bullshit people prop up to escape blame. We make our own choices, every choice having a consequence to it. People needed to stop sugar coating shit. Or on second thought, they should continue so people like me can continue to prosper.

Streets of the Reach were thinned, those out and about falling into one of two categories. People coming home from work or drunks who wouldn't know their ass from their hand. Either way they were heading to the same place, paying me no attention. It's one of the great things about this city, you could look like you were about to perform a ritual in the street and not a single person would give a fuck. Aside from maybe the Seraph, but they had better shit to do then hassle me. They also knew better than to mill about the part of the city I was heading.

It's amazing what a little bit of gold can buy. Most focus on the material goods and those were nice, really fucking nice, but the more sensible use of your wealth was accumulating power. Even that fancy pantsed buffoon Orpheus knew that. No one knew this more than Dick and I's employer, one so feared that few even spoke their name. Even if you were to tell, half the Seraph were likely on her payroll, you'd be dead before you even spoke a word.

Was frankly impressive I'd managed to deduce their gender. For as supposedly valuable as I was, very little made it's way down the pipeline to me. Made me respect her more, knowing full well I'd use that knowledge to my advantage. Unlike Orpheus, she kept her allies at arms length, all save for Dick of course. I still hadn't figured out how he'd become her right hand man. Maybe he was fucking her or her estranged kid. In time it wouldn't matter, nor would either of them.

Two men stood outside the entrance of Regallina's, some high priced restaurant used to funnel drugs and flesh to some of the higher level clientele in the Reach. Nobles never wanted to be seen as dirty, reputations being ruined if others knew their noses were filled with powder or they had a penchant for girls half their age. On this day however it was closed for a private party. Just so happens I had a guest pass, funny how often that's been happening lately.

Arms raised above my head as the shorter of the two men moved forward, moonlight shining off the bald dome of his head. Hands moved roughly along my body, doing a bit more than patting me down. If he were anyone else I'd of kneed him right in the balls, but you put up with a lot of shit when it came to business. If him grabbing my ass got me in the door faster, so fucking be it.

Second guard merely glared at me during the entire shakedown, eyes as dead as a risen. Wouldn't shock me if his heart was as well. If you were given the personal detail of Dick, you were a killer, someone who'd moved up the ranks of muscle. Another reason my trap stayed shut, you needed to know who you were needling. They wouldn't kill me of course, that would only end poorly for them however few broken ribs weren't out of the question.

Baldy motioned for me to follow his partner inside. Interior of the restaurant was nearly as extravagant as Orpheus's little tea house. Chandeliers hung from above, paintings that cost more than some houses filling the walls. Even the chairs were made of a well polished red wood, armrests available with a soft underlining cushion of a more cherry red. Wooden floors were equally as impeccable, looking as if not a single soul had ever stepped on them.

Entire restaurant was empty save for the one table occupied by Dick, wearing the only garb I'd ever seen him in, a well pressed black suit with a cream colored shirt beneath, tie a pale pink. In the middle of the table sat a bottle of wine, two glasses surrounding it. Utensils were set out both in front of him and across the table where a chair was pulled out, no doubt awaiting my arrival.

Dick smiled as I approached the table, reaching forward to place his wine glass in front of him. “Dressed to impress as per usual, Katrina.”

“You know me, I aim to please.” I took my seat opposite him, grabbing my own wine glass. “I wasn't aware this pressing matter you spoke of was a date. You do know there's not enough wine in the world to make me sleep with you right?”

Dick laughed, but far from the good natured variety. “Charming as ever.”

“Been hearing that a lot lately.” I extended my glass outward to be filled. “Even have noble women bending over backwards to please me.”

Dick popped the cork from the bottle, carefully filling both his and my glass a quarter of the way full. “I'm sure you'll enjoy attending the balls.”

“It's been the only balls I've been enjoying lately.” I leaned back in my seat, taking an elongated sip of the wine. “So what's the occasion?”

Dick swirled his glass, looking intently across the table at me. “Your recent actions have our employer intrigued, sensing a level of opportunity if you would.”

“That so? Let me guess, you want me to spread Gizbo throughout the school? A nice new client base, spreading to a city you once thought untouchable.” I took another drink, wine having a very strong musty taste to it. “I'll do it if my profit intake is higher than just 15%. I'm thinking closer to 25.”

“It always comes down to the profit margin with you doesn't it?” He smirked, resting his wine down on the table. “You'd do anything so long as your getting paid.”

“I believe my infiltration of the Blind Eye proved that.” I said sternly, warmth lingering within my throat, overstaying it's welcome.

“That was pleasure as well. Your relationship with your...” I cleared my throat, both cutting him off and attempting to battle back the flame scorching my throat. “Get to the point.”

“The point...” Dick chuckled, adjusting the placement of his tie. “The point is being made, you simply don't see it yet.”

Heat wouldn't subside, spreading down through my body, insides feeling like they were cooking inside of a range. Sweat started to streak down my forehead, throat feeling scorched, no amount of water in the world being able to quench the thirst. Hand holding my glass began to shake, control of my body very quickly departing. Before it did my fingers curled inward, tossing the wine at Dick, managing only to stain his shirt as my upper body clunked down onto the table, unable to move.

“Do you understand now, Katrina?” He lifted a napkin to his jacket, dabbing at the stain.“If it were up to me I'd of given a lethal dose, you are more trouble than you are worth. Our employer feels otherwise and I do as I'm told, trait you could learn from.”