#throw out the Husband List; it's the sergeant's house now

[im-no-jedi]

it normally takes me a while to make gifs and screencaps simply because the process is rather complicated, but it always takes MUCH longer when Hunter is the subject because half the time, I'm just staring at the screen like

[mercurygray]

from the holiday prompt list: midnight and molly (and a side of tab perhaps?) it seems only right i put in my first request since declaring my new fav (sorry, eileen, i still love you) ❤️

Issie, thank you so much for this prompt, as it gave me an excuse to do something I've been meaning to do for a little bit here - a new AU! The War Ended And We Went Home To Other People. (Sadly, however, Floyd does not feature. I think you'll like the new guy, though.)

He would be glad to see the end of 1945.

Andy Haldane had been just this side of alive on New Year's Eve of 1944, doped up on more morphine than a human ought to admit to, but he was alive, if only just. He'd spent most of this year slowly climbing back out of the well of the war, out of this hospital and that rehabilitation ward, slowly moving eastward until his mother and father could come and visit on Sundays, take a walk with him around the garden.

He was ashamed of those Sundays. There wasn't a whole lot left of the son they'd sent to war now - the darling of the gridiron and the college dorm was happy enough to be shuffling along on crutches most days, and counted it a good day if he didn't have to take a nap after lunch. How he'd worked, before the war! His parents had saved so hard to get him to Bowdoin - first in his family to take a degree, to have their picture in the paper. A man who was going to go places, that's what he was - until that sniper made his position on the ridge.

He could remember where he was when they said the war was over - VE day and VJ both. Different hospitals, on different coasts. He couldn't get out of bed on VE day - some of the others jumped out of beds and ran down halls, throwing things out of windows and banging thier bedpans, just to make a racket. VJ day he'd been here, in Boston, with a lot of army types who'd been flown in from Europe to convalesce. It wasn't their war, and somehow that meant it mattered just a little less.

Some of those men were gone now, replaced with different faces and different voices. Different nurses, now, too, different volunteers on the wards. The young USO wives were mostly gone, to houses in the suburbs and returning husbands, probably, and in their place were mothers whose sons had not come home, trying to atone by mothering boys whose own mothers were too busy to come.

Which made her stand out in more ways that one. Young, for starters, but without that innocence that the young wives had all shared, the perfect nylons and dainty handbags and ladies home journal magazine cookies. She came in slacks, some days, with a bookbag that always seemed to be full of journals and notes, but useful things, too - the racing papers and the sports pages and comic books. Jokes, too, in the free and easy way of a girl who has had brothers. "Hey, Mahoney," someone or other would call, and she'd catch for the ball or lob the greeting back, delivering letters and newspapers and news of the world. She was a student, over at the college - a doctoral thesis on something historical. She didn't talk about it much with them - but never looked down on the guys who'd barely finished eighth grade and stumbled through reading the funny pages, either.

Andy wondered, a lot, about why she volunteered - but one day, when the weather had turned colder he watched her pull a fatigue jacket out of her bag and realized she was missing the war because she'd been in it herself.

"You're a woman of a lot of surprises, Miss Mahoney," he said, nodding to the jacket and the faded stripes on her sleeve. "Or was it Sergeant?"

"You sure it isn't my boyfriend's?" She asked, a slight edge to her voice, the syllables wrapped cautiously around the handle of a knife like she might have to slash out with it. How many people had made that accusation before?

"It fits you like you broke it in," he said, and meant it. He'd never had clothes that fit better than the dungarees he'd worn on the canal, sleeping day in and day out in them until the elbows and knees were just so. That was her jacket, lived and suffered in, and anyone who'd worn OD would know it to see it.

She nodded, smiling, and he looked closer, at the patches on the shoulder, the darns and repairs on the collar. "You were a paratrooper." That experimental outfit everyone talked about - with that famous woman. Jean? Jane? He couldn't remember the name.

She nodded. "506th Regiment - Company E. Two combat jumps, one purple heart, three campaign ribbons, combat infantry badge, expert marksman."

As decorations went it was quite a list. "Why did you never say? None of those guys in there know."

She scoffed. "We had a joke, in my unit. How will they know which company we are? Because the girls are Easy." She looked down at her hands, swallowed nervously. "It hit different when you were in a room full of people who knew you. Here, back home, I'm just…someone who didn't know her place - borrowed some other guy's chance at glory." She tried to smile. "Still miss it, though. That's why I come. Here I'm…the kid sister, or the girl down the street. No one questions how I know what I know, and I can…give back, a little. For the guys who didn't make it home."

"I'd like to hear about it, sometime. If you feel like talking."

She nodded, in the way that said she'd think about it, and he let he matter rest. The next week she brought bear claws from a bakery down the street, big and sweet and messy, and they sat in the courtyard eating them and getting thier fingers stuck to flimsy paper napkins. She told him about her brother, a navy man who'd died at Pearl Harbor, and leaving college so she could join the WAC. He talked about Bowdoin, and Parris Island. She talked about the guy she'd had some hopes with, and the news that he'd married a woman in England, that they were having a baby, and he found himself itching to fight. They both talked about food, about boats and being sick as dogs, about being cold and wet and scared. Andy found himself naming names he hadn't said aloud in a long time, stories that were still somehow funny even if they were also sad.

He asked his mother to bring stationary, on her next Sunday visit, to write to Ed's family, and find out what happened to Burgin and Sledge. "Who are you writing to?" she asked, looking hopeful. "A girl?" When he said no, her face fell a little. "You had a look in your eye, is all. Hadn't seen that there for a while."

Well, I'm not writing to her, he wanted to say. But there is a girl. A woman? A someone. Wishful thinking, though. She could do better than a broken down old Marine.

But new years were for new beginnings, weren't they? And he needed all the help he could get. So, here he was, a few minutes to midnight and ready to bid farewell to 1945. The crutches were mostly gone, now, and he did pretty well with his cane. He'd actually taken the time to get dressed for this one - no pajamas and robe for him, no sir. He found her in the dayroom over by the record player, keeping an eye on things while the candy stripers danced patiently with men who were still learning the use of their prosthesis, or braces, or what have you. And she didn't shoo him away, either - glad for the company, or the excuse to keep turning down dances she didn't want to do.

When the clock struck midnight he turned to look - she looked ashamed, almost, like she didn't want to expect anything, awkward in a room full of kissing couples and falling confetti and stray balloons and Guy Lombardo on the radio. "Molly," he said, and when she turned to look at him he kissed her, his nose bumping her own. She'd taken some pains with her hair and it hung in soft honey ringlets around her face, her skin soft with some scent he couldn't name.

For a moment neither of them spoke. "Sorry," he offered, practically shouting to be heard above the noisemakers. "It's been a while since I kissed a pretty girl, I'm a little out of practice."

She was blushing a little, but she didn't look angry, either. That was something, wasn't it? "No apology needed, Captain."

"Molly, it's Andy." You know it's Andy. It's been Andy for weeks now.

She smiled. "Andy. Happy New Year."

He decided to go further. "Maybe another for good luck?"

She rolled her eyes and smiled wider, wrapping her arms around his waist. "Oh, go on then."

He decided 1946 could stay, if it liked.

[buckybarnesdiaries]

bucky barnes x reader. masterlist.

part 1 — part 2 (soon)

a / n. this is a series of 15 mini-drabbles to celebrate the 500 followers' milestone, based on one word for each story. this first part contains 8, and the next one contains 7. it was supposed to be posted one story per day, but by that way, it'd take me to last an eternity to post other works / requests.

words. 1.533.

warning, tags. none, just a bunch of fluffy and cute situations with bucky.

join my tag list.

necklace;

It was the first time since you started to date that Bucky had to leave for a mission. Neither of the two of you knew when he'd be back, and that got you worried than ever. You were conscious of what he did for a living when you met him, but you couldn't help but feel scared. Next to the front door of your apartment, Bucky left his backpack on the floor, leaning to cup your cheeks on his palms and kiss your lips tortuously slow.

“I'll be okay, (Y/N)”. He murmured keeping his eyes closed.

“You better”.

Your hidden threat made him giggle. The soldier felt goosebumps bristling his skin as your fingertips toured his neck blindly, just to put in place the chain of his necklace. But soon, Bucky stopped your moves to take it off from him and place his dog tags on you.

“I'll come back for them”. He promised, fixing his pale blue orbs on yours, holding your hands to bring them to his lips and place fond kisses on every knuckle of both. “I love you, don' forget it, okay?”

“I won't... How could I, Buck?”

eclipsed;

Bucky was sweating, still not believing he was about to get married to the love of his life. He was on the altar, waiting for you and surrounded by all of your friends in common. Steve had had to help him with a panic attack he had suffered while dressing up, thinking that maybe you could change your opinion at the last moment. He couldn't blame you. But all those doubts vanished at the second you crossed the huge, heavy doors of the church. Your beauty eclipsed him, wearing a white lace wedding dress and seeming like you floated over the floor. Just like an angel.

His heart jumped. His oceanic eyes got covered in tears. A giggle escaped his lips, stretching a hand towards you, still praying it's not a dream. And you noticed the tension and the nervousness running his veins, leaning forward to kiss his cheek with all the love you felt for your future husband.

“Can't wait to say yes”. You whispered into his ear, causing Bucky to lace his arms around you and embrace you tight and tenderly. “I love you, James, from now and forever”.

sunset;

After his most recent nightmare and walking all grumpy from one side of another around your house, you decided to cheer him up only like you can do. With reluctance, you managed to get him out of your apartment and drag him to your car. Bucky was like a child, cross-armed, lips puckered and frowning annoyed. He tried to hide the fact that he had another nightmare to not worry you, but you weren't stupid.

Thinking that glimpsing the beach throughout the large front window would make him feel happier, your boyfriend just reclined himself on the seat, causing you to roll your eyes. That mood changed as soon as Bucky was sitting on the sand, between your legs, tho. His back was resting against your chest and his neck was wrapped by one of your arms, watching fascinated the sunset on the horizon. He wouldn't recognize it, but he felt much better hearing the waves crashing into the shore, while you stroked his scalp tenderly using the tip of your nails.

“You're welcome, grumpy mummy”.

clingy;

You didn't want to drink, but Sam and Sarah wanted to celebrate that the family business was picking up. On another occasion, you wouldn't mind, but Bucky was there. So, when everything started to spin around, you lead your clumsy steps to the edge of the harbor, having a sit there and let the soft breeze help you.

“Stop”. You heard from behind.

“Uh?”

“You're stealing my antisocial personality”. Bucky chuckled, taking a seat by your side. “What's up? Why are you here all alone?”

“Truth or lie?” You asked tilting your head towards him, raising both eyebrows.

“Truth”. He scoffed as if it wasn't obvious.

“I'm too clingy when I'm drunk”.

“Can't see the problem there”.

You chuckled, shaking your head inevitably, causing him to pucker his lips with a funny grimace.

“What?”

“Tru—”.

“Truth”.

“I've been all night wanting to rub your beard”.

Bucky exploded in loud laughter, not believing your words until you put your hands on his jawline. “God... It's so soft”.

His laughs increased, causing you to burn in shame. “No more drinks for you, ma'am...”

But the fact was that he turned to you, so it could be easy to caress his face.

safe;

Bucky was deadly tired on the sofa, warmly cuddled between your arms. A while ago, he stopped to pay attention to the movie, turning his back to the TV to hide his exhausted expression on your chest. You placed the cozy blanket over your bodies, making sure it covered both of you, being aware that tonight you'd sleep there. You felt sorry just at the thought of waking him up, seeing him peacefully breathing and his face more relaxed than the last few days.

Shutting off the TV and stretching an arm above your head, you turned off the small lamp on the auxiliary table close to the sofa, before getting comfier by Bucky's side. Your boyfriend purred delighted, still sleepy, as your fingers got tangled on his hair and started to scratch his scalp slowly, urging you somehow to place a leg over his waist, so he could settle between both a little more closely.

“Feel better?”

“I feel safe”. He replied in a low breath, to exhale the sweet scent concentrated on your neck.

“You're safe, James. You're at home”. Your calmed tone made him sigh, snuggling you strongly.

stay;

You snapped awake because of some knocks on the front door. Tossing the sheets to a side of the bed, you grabbed the gun under your pillow. It was stupidity. If somebody wanted to kill you, that would be the last thing they'd do: knock the door. You walked slowly, step by step, through the main hallway aiming to the door, more than ready to shoot your assailant.

“It's... Bucky”. You heard from the other side.

Sighing in relief and closing your eyes for a split second, you left the weapon on the dinner table in the living room. Not doubting on opening the door, you couldn't help but raise an eyebrow when you noticed the reddened mark around his left eye and cheek.

“Can I, uh... stay tonight with you?” Bucky inquired, licking his upper lip ashamed, bowing his eyes down to his boots covered in dust.

“C'mon, Sergeant”. You invited him to walk in, using such a sweet tone, while holding his cold hand.

He looked like shit but felt much better when his arms got wrapped around your waist and middle-back, hiding his face into your neck. Kicking the door shut, you embraced him tighter to your body.

notebook;

You were lying on the opposite side to Bucky on the sofa, but keeping your legs tangled. It was a rainy evening with nothing to do and you decided to start to read the book you bought last week. Your boyfriend was silently doing something in a notebook. Maybe writing memories, maybe doodling, you didn't know. But the third time you caught him staring at you, you had to ask.

“What?”

“Uh... nothing”. He whispered focused on the paper in front of his eyes.

“Whaaat?” You kicked his right leg with your bare foot causing him to chuckle.

“Nothing!” Bucky replied using the same playfully tone of voice.

Putting the book on the coffee table, you sat up to lie on top of him, cuddling between his legs and resting your head on his chest. Glancing to the sketch of yourself he was drawing, you raised your heart-eyes to his. It was such a piece of art. The drawing and Bucky. Both.

“I learned in Romania. It kept me sane sometimes”. He confessed, leaning to place a kiss on your forehead. “I want to remember you forever”.

marshmallow;

“Truth or dare?”

Bucky narrowed his eyes, leaning on the table just like you did, challenging him. He was trying to read your mind to figure out which were your intentions.

“Dare”. He answered firmly.

“Put twenty marshmallows in your mouth”.

The soldier stared at you in silence, watching him lick his inner cheek and push it with the tip of his tongue. He nodded his head then, grabbing the plastic bag without losing eye contact, to start to place —one by one— the sweets into his mouth. In less than thirty seconds, he looked like a squirrel with his cheek swollen. Bucky squinted at you again, triumphant.

“Hold on, I need to capture this moment”. You laughed, catching your phone to take a picture.

When the flash went off, he spitted a marshmallow like a shotgun. And you couldn't help but laugh.

“C'mon, Bu—”.

You didn't finish the sentence, being hit by another marshmallow slightly wet because of his saliva. Your grimace turned into a funny disgust, grabbing it back to throw it to his face.

“You're like a five years old in a body fos— STOP!” You ended up giggling as he spitted you the third one.

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[knockknockchicagopd]

❛ BLACK JACKET WITH WHITE LETTERS ❜

❚❙ REQUEST BY ANON: Would I be able to request prompt 16 “You're mine. I don't share”. With Hank voight where they go to one of those police events and she works in his unit and they are a couple with her being younger and they dont have to be in police uniform so she wears a really nice dress and as he introduces her and talks to other people he knows, some of the men check her out and try flirt with her and he notices. Could there be a bit of smut if not that's cool to ❤❤

❚❙ HANK VOIGHT MASTERLIST.

❚❙ WORDS: about 3k.

❚❙ Warnings: swearing, unprotected sex.

❚❙ A/N: this writing hasn’t been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I’m sorry about that. If you find a description about body or a word out of place, or something that makes you feel uncomfortable / unrepresented, let me know by a private message and I will change it delighted.

❚❙ GIF credits: to my amazing @sonsofeorl.

❚❙ General tag list: @melblacc @rebelwrites @skyofficialxx @sesamepancakes @scarletsoldierrr @mondefantastique @that-chick212 @enbyamaro @inlovewith3 @ocetevasgirl @destynelseclipsa @miahelen @jadakiss13 @mcgreads @graniairish @teller258316 @i-love-scott-mccall @tclaerh. Hank Voight tag list: @sophie-writes. If you wanna be added to my tag list, send my a message! ⚡

Fortunately, it's been a quiet day, otherwise, you couldn't deal with a Districts event like the Commanders call them. A meeting that reunites every officer, inspector, detective, and whoever who wears ‘the blue uniform’; including special agents from the FBI. These last ones are the kind of man who pushes you out of your good mood with all that quackery about serving the whole country, the unlimited resources, the missions. Every time you hear a fed talking about how passionate and exciting their jobs are, you just want to punch their faces. Mostly, they're behind a desk while cops like you are protecting the streets of Chicago in the firing line. But, as Burgess and Upton said, it's time to have some fun. And anything else.

Since you don't have to wear that horrible uniform you use at official events, you have chosen a breathtaking black silk dress that fits your anatomy to perfection, falling from your chest, with a spaghetti strap neckline, to your ankles. And a pair of skyscraper highlights on the same color, with the small difference that the heels are tremendously golden. Your back is almost bare, being crossed by four fine strips, knowing it's going to give Hank some trouble. Oh, you're going to have so much fun tonight. You are very sure.

The soft make-up delights your cute, but lethal, outfit on point ready to leave Kim's house accompanied by your friends. You've arranged to meet at the party with the rest of the Unit since your future husband and Antonio needed to be from the start of the event, which means the three of you are going to earn more than some gazes by assisting alone, with no male figures by your sides. As if you need some kind of protection. Men (...).

Stepping out from your car and giving the keys to the parking attendant, who seems he's having a heart attack after watching you walk with so much cockiness and sensuality, you come into the party. The look you exchange with Kim and Hailey as soon as you check the reaction of the assistants, makes you draw a triumphant smile while raising your chin in some kind of greeting. You aren't going to stop now, leading your steps straight to your partners. Ruzek chokes on champagne with his eyes over Burgess, while Hank looks at you over the edge of his glass of bourbon taking a sip.

“You should work like that every day”. Antonio opines welcoming the three of you in his arms.

“I second that, brother”. Jay quickly adds making a toast with his cup of red wine.

“Bet you'd be the one who wouldn't work”. Hailey replies palming his chest, making you giggle.

In the meantime they continue arguing about the dress code, a strong arm gets placed around your lower back to push you somewhat closer, letting his hand fall over your hipbone. You know exactly what it means. Hank isn't the kind of jealous man, who needs to mark his territory like a dog. But you know that sometimes he feels insecure because of the age gap. He trusts you blindly, that's a fact, but he's human; he has fears and you understand it. Putting your left hand on the back of his neck, you caress his scalp almost unnoticeably, tilting your head to leave a gentle kiss on his cheek earning a satisfied grin from him.

“You look really beautiful tonight”. He whispers, watching you sideways as if it's a secret between you two.

“Thank you, Sergeant. I always try to do my best”.

Hank chuckles against his glass about to have a last sip till emptying it. Taking it from his hand, you pull yourself away to go to the bar and ask for two more drinks. You're thirsty and too sober to be a Friday night. Checking some emails on your phone while the bartender serves your order, you can't help but listen to some backtalk about your career. A couple of suited men combed as politicians and wrapped on a strong scent that throws your stomach. You try to ignore them until they're close enough from your position to offer you a hand in a formal greeting.

“Johnson and Derrick. FBI”.

The blonde one looks like a senior official, while the other looks like a newbie. Turning towards both, you come into the forced polite mood to stretch his hand firmly.

“(Y/L/N), Intelligence Unit, gentlemen. A pleasure”.

“The pleasure is ours, detective”.

“Special agent”. You correct him inevitably, even if it sounds arrogant.

“Special agent, of course”. Johnson replies with a nod of his chin. “I've read your file lately. I have no words to describe it. Graduated with excellent grades in Yale, two years in the Army, another undercover in a Cartel… And you also know how to fly a helicopter”.

“If you weren't from the FBI, I could think you've been stalking me like one of your serial killers, sir”. The sarcasm in your tone of voice earns your Unit's attention, very focused on the conversation between the feds and you.

“Who catches a monster without becoming one, right?”

The man introduces a hand under his jacket to offer you his business card. But you don't take it, just looking at it for a second before raising your eyes towards his.

“In your academy shows you to have the big balls to disrespect a Sergeant or a Chief, by trying to steal their officers in front of their faces? Because mine shows us to serve and protect the citizens”.

His gesture changes suddenly in a sight, hearing some chuckles behind you coming from Hailey and Kim. Raising both eyebrows as you don't get any reply back, you just nod before grabbing the two drinks you have asked for when they interrupted you. Coming back to your friends, you can't help but wrinkle your nose in a gesture of disgust earning more giggles from your partners. But it doesn't seem funny for Hank, who you know he's killing them in thousands of ways inside his head.

As the night passes, you notice Agent Johnson's eyes on you with no shame, starting to make you feel uncomfortable. Although you would be delighted to embarrass him in front of everyone, he has had enough from you. But this doesn't end there. Excusing yourself, you step to the terrace almost emptied to have some fresh air, knowing he's going to follow you. Maybe, to insist a little more. He was so interested in recruiting you to miss the chance.

And as you thought, he's that predictable. You don't turn because of his steps coming closer, but because he pretends to clear his throat to claim your attention. Crossing your arms over your chest, you tilt your head to a side feigning curiosity with a forced smile showing up on your lips.

“I would like to apologize for my behavior. In my profession isn't habitual to find agents of your characteristics”.

“For sure, sir. It doesn't matter”.

“You could have an extraordinary career in the FBI”.

“I already have it where I am. I don't need schedules, cheap suits, and an earpiece to succeed”.

“I understand your relationship interferes in your decision, but you do—”.

“I'm sorry, you said what? Did you…? Oh, god, I can't fucking believe it”. You can't help but laugh shaking your head. “I don't have any relationship as soon as I wear my badge, sir. And you are starting to cross a line you don't want to cross. Believe me”.

“Ma'am, don't misunderstand my words, nor my intentions. I just think ma—”.

“Nobody asked you to think, Johnson”.

Raising your eyes over his shoulders, you can see your boyfriend sipping his glass of whisky, joining the talk as he tries to keep calm. You know Hank to perfection. If he wasn't your boss, he would have punched him already.

“If you continue pissing off my agent, we're gonna have a problem”.

The man just nods, alternating his gaze between the two of you. Seems that he has admitted his defeat.

“Beautiful and lethal. You're a son of a bitch with so much luck, Voight. Take care of this diamond. Or she will end up wearing a blue jacket with yellow letters”.

“Uh-huh”. He replies as you continue remaining silent.

Passing your boss away back to the party, leaving you alone, you can't hide the proud smile that turns your gesture into a funnier one. Taking short steps towards him, you steal the glass from his hand to drink from it under his attentive brown eyes.

“Blue isn't my color. Not at all. I'm more into black”. You whisper referring to the jackets you are used to wearing in the Chicago department.

“Hm…”

“Imagine having your badge hanging from your neck all day like a collar. Do I look like a dog? I prefer to have it on my belt. And I'm already used to the disgusting watered coffee we make in the twenty-one”. As you continue giving him more reasons, your forefinger traces a path up from his chest to his nape. “And I have so much fun driving my Dodge all around Chicago”.

“Anything else you wanna add?”

“Hm… no. Actually, not. That's all, sir”. You reply puckering your lips, pulling yourself away some inches with a playful aura wrapping you both.

“Now lemme tell you something here”. Hank says then, leaning over your ear. “You're mine, I don't share”.

His voice and his characteristic raspy voice gives you some chills down your spine bone. Biting your bottom lip unconsciously while he stands up, you know the party is over for you and it's time to go home. Holding your hand and taking back his glass of whisky, you walk inside to say your goodbyes before leaving the fancy place straight to the underground parking. You are not going to lie saying you don't love his dominant mood when the occasion demands it.

As soon as you reach your car, you can notice sideways Hank making sure you're totally alone. He doesn't usually take risks of being seen in public too lovey-dovey, but it's not about it this time and you can't wait for him to go ahead with his intentions. Of course, he doesn't make you wait for too long to push your back to the copilot door, attacking your neck in the meantime his hands grab your hips stealing you a low gasp. Hank makes himself between your legs, urging you to surround his waist with one of them to close the distance that separates you, feeling the need he has to mark his territory, as rarely he shows.

“Take me home”. You almost beg closing your eyes as his teeth are nailed on your most sensitive spot, earning a soft grunt that vibrates your body.

“I'm gonna take you here, sweetheart. Any problem?”

“Hell, no, sergeant”.

“Get in the car. Now”.

You don't complain, taking it as an order when he takes two steps back releasing your body and opening the back door for you. And the next minute passes too fast, rolling up your dress as Hank undoes his belt and unzips his pants. In just a sigh he's deep-buried between your legs. It's the first time you take this kind of risk, almost in public, and the horniness it produces is driving you crazy. With your lips almost touching the others, you moan uninhibited every time his hands on your lower back urge you to keep swinging your hips, sitting on his lap.

The way his eyes memorize every gesture drawn on your face has you breathless. It's a sensation you can't describe. Hank has some kind of power over you that you haven't experienced before, even if you think you're indomitable he always manages to make whatever he wants with you. And you know it. You let him do it. Just like right now, marking his territory with desirous bites and wet kisses all around your exposed throat. The most visible part of your body. He doesn't need to prove anything. He isn't the kind of man who needs to call out any other man who dares to lay his eyes on you. Everybody in this damn city knows you're more than his pupil and they're too scared to say hi, although there's always an exception to the rule. In this case, the FBI agents acting like carrion birds.

The mist clouds the windows, as the heat concentrated on your bodies makes you sweat slightly. Hank takes the control turning you under his body against the seat in a position that puts you to see the stars. Every move of his pelvis is accurate, hitting your g-spot, satisfied with how good his name sounds getting drowned between pleased moans once and again. With every push to your body, his dick is dug deeper through your tight wetness making him grunt into your ear, feeling more delighted than never before. And everything is because of the way you had to reply to that FBI agent in front of everyone, showing him how clear you have your preferences; not only because of your relationship, as Johnson pointed out. But because everybody in Chicago is aware that there's no better boss in law enforcement. There's no better Unit than the Intelligence one from the police department of your hometown.

As your legs get wrapped around his waist to pull him closer, one of his arms surrounds your middle back while his free hand flies straight to your throat. Keeping your eyes closed, the suffocating sensation within your lower belly continues growing with every thrust that steals the air from your lungs and races your heart over its possibilities. You're close. So close that your mind is a total blank, just focused on the way only he can make you feel. So good, so desired, so full of life. He knows it, he takes it in advantage. And he enjoys it more than anything.

“Oh, fuck…” Hank got you almost in tears because of the pleasure, traveling your hands to the back of his neck, nailing your nails there. “God… I'm gonna… Fuck, Hank, don't stop, please… Don't stop”.

“I won't, my love… Not till you give me what I want”.

His voice always plays dirty with your mind. The way he has to drag every syllable on his tongue with that husky voice that puts you to tremble, as he continues burying his hard dick inside you with no mercy, speeding up as soon as he feels your legs clung to his body slightly shaking. Because of the fewer insecurities he has about your relationship, he feels proud whenever he makes you reach that sweet sensation of the orgasm taking control of your anatomy. He doesn't care if he has to use his hands, his tongue… whatever. It's not only about sex between the two of you, of course not. But making you cum screaming out his name is an every-day-goal.

And you don't make him wait for too long, arching your back when a lash of heat hits your spine and the grenade inside your lower belly explodes. Your gasps fill up your car, while he continues fucking you harder than seconds before not showing any compassion to your exhausted body, looking for your lips to devours them desperately. His tongue starts a fight for dominance, winning over yours like every single time, in the meantime his fingers grips tightly your throat. Instinctively, you swing your hips in sync, provoking every move to go deeper among your shaky legs.

Hank can't hold it anymore, digging his cock to the limits of your guts, almost hitting your soul with a last strong lung. His warm seed fills you up completely, keeping pushing his body against yours, pressing both to the seat with his hands now placed on the headrest. It feels like a whole set of fireworks. Your moans complement his delighted growls to perfection.

“Don't move, please”. You beg with a thin voice thread, at the same time he rests his forehead on yours.

The two of you can barely breathe, trying to recover after an intense session of your favorite cardio workout. From nowhere, you can't help but giggle in unison. You can't believe you just fucked inside your car and with the risk of being caught in the act. A sergeant and one of his special agents. Even if it's your free night and you're in an established relationship, he's still your boss.

“I would miss working with you”.

“Huh?”

“If I get the FBI's offer”. You mumble, leaving clumsy kisses all around his face. “You're the best cop Chicago has”.

“You don't have to butter me up for a second round”.

Shaking your head briefly and laughing, you caress his scalp so gently as he sinks his face into your sweaty neck.

“Now you said so… maybe I have the fantasy of being bent over your desk”.

“Maybe?”

“Yeah, just… maybe”.

“Then maybe I could bring you to my office, before going home. There's some paperwork to attend to”.

[shelby-love]

KELLY SEVERIDE

Skeletons and Whatnot.

Requested: yes

Prompts: none

Warning(s): none

Author’s note: I feel like this is rubbish, but I also feel like it’s not. 50/50 (1.6K words - might come back to edit it tomorrow)

Also you can see how tired I am (it's 4:30AM) I mean what is this title??? GOOD NIGHT.

~

"That's not possible. Check again."

"But I already did! Like a million times!"

"Adam, I swear to God-"

"Alright, alright…" Your colleague mumbled, turning on his chair to run the data yet again.

While he sat on the chair, looking through files he didn't have a clue about, you were leaning against the wall and shaking in your boots. Your heart hammered and your palms felt clammy.

Not possible. I killed him.

"No look it says right there," Adam declared; proud of himself for being able to gather information like this on his own. "Some girl named Lucy Riggs pawned a gun she got off some guy named Jon Prescott.

You squinted your eyes at the information that made no sense. "Get to the point."

Adam visibly swallowed, "Turns out the guy's name isn't Jon. Shocker. It's actually Parker Torres."

Your blood ran cold at his words. A million thoughts raced through your head. You wondered where he was, what he was doing… The questions that evaded your mind are usually normal, but here, when you thought about the dark man of your past, the questions seemed to be anything but normal.

"What about the gun?"

Adam clicked away until a picture of a metallic gun popped out. "Smith & Wesson Model 64 revolver."

Next thing you knew, a chain of vulgar profanities escaped your mouth, and you couldn't stop them. Ruzek's eyes widened ever so slightly at your lack of composure. "Mind telling me what this all about?"

You took a deep breath. "My skeleton escaped the closet."

***

The lack of information you found within the last couple of days was mind blowing. The only lead you had was the gun that wasn't even in your possession, having gotten lost in a misfit of undocumented sales.

Lucy wasn't of help either. The poor girl just wanted to get rid of her husband's gun, saying everything but useful information along the way. "If he wants a gun, then he better get a good one… A new one too! I don't want that piece of garbage in my house. God only knows who used that gun!" Lucy told you, just 48 hours ago. Those exact same words.

She was right about one thing.

That dammed gun went through so many hands and took double more lives.

And you didn't even have a lead.

"You look like crap," Kevin Atwater teased, handing you a steaming cup of coffee.

You didn't even manage to smile, looking at him through your shades that were, so far, doing a great job at concealing the bags under your eyes from the world.

"Rough night?"

"Mhmm."

Kevin didn't know that you no longer lived with Kelly. The temporary solution to your problems turned out to be moving back to your own place. Putting Kelly in harm's way, no matter how much he thought otherwise, was something you didn't want to do. The comfort of his bed and body were replaced by a thin blanked and an uncomfortable dining chair.

Dozens of glass decorations were laid out all over your apartment. On every window still, next to every door… On every surface, really. You slept on the dining chair 5 yards from your front door with a pistol strapped to your back, a shotgun under the chair and a rifle wrapped around your two arms, acting as a teddy bear for every time you dozed off.

Friends from Interpol would call here and there, with nothing more than sad news.

Hank Voight was pulling out every contact from his little notebook, but not even they could solve your years long case.

You wanted to throw up.

"Hey Kev."

"What's up?"

"You still friends with that FBI agent?"

***

"Second floor clear," The grip on your radio loosened after the second you needed to inform your team about your situation had passed and you moved on upstairs. You could hear them respond in the same matter as you held your gun with both hands and carefully climbed up the stairs.

You didn't let a sound slip your lips as you trekked the stairs up to the very last floor, save for the attic. For a drug house, everything was eerily quiet. It didn't feel like someone left in a hasty hurry.

It felt like as though there was no one there in the first place.

Your need to report that to your Sergeant faded away quickly once you saw smoke. It seized your full attention within a few seconds.

Smoke grenade was your first guess. Nasty things but nothing new.

That was, until you took several steps closer and the smell of the source journeyed through your nostrils. It clicked in your head immediately. Three years of being a squad lieutenant's girlfriend can do that to you. The scent of fire is nauseating and sweet, putrid and steaky, or something like leather being tanned over a flame. The smell  of it can be so thick and rich that it's almost a taste. Kelly's words rung in your head, and  you pulled your radio to your mouth.

"Call CFD! There's a fire on the third floor!" You informed, shielding your eyes. "Stand down! I repeat –"

Things went black after those words.

***

"We have a detective trapped on the third floor," Voight informed the first responders. "That's where the fire started."

Wallace nodded, "Squad 3, take the third floor."

Unlike Wallace, who had found his source of information in Voight, Kelly Severide had found it in Jay, who stood on the street visibly stressed. "Jay where's Y/N?"

Jay frowned, "She went to scope ahead. She was on the third floor when the whole place just blew up…"

"She could be unconscious right now," Kelly muttered. "Squad 3 let's go!"

Kelly Severide was already in the burning building when Chief Boden found out just who was trapped upstairs. "Dammit."

***

"Y/N?!"

Kelly's patience was thinning by the second. Knowing that his time is limited and that the place could blow in a stronger matter at any moment, he paced toward your unconscious body expeditiously.

Noticing the angry streak of blood that came from your nose had his heart in his throat. You were twisted in a way not normal for a human body to be in, catching him off guard the moment he laid his eyes on you.

Despite all that, Kelly still swooped in to grasp your limp body in his arms.

The stress of the last few days he went through didn't come close to a match with this very moment. "I'm coming down chief!"

For a moment Wallace wanted to bark back, but he bit his tongue. Love makes people do crazy things.

He knew that better than anyone.

"Get the hoses ready!" Boden announced and turned to the Intelligence.

"She'll be okay."

***

You were okay.

Maybe even better than you thought possible.

"Kelly wake up."

You smiled cheekily at doctor Mannig, who stood by your hospital bed, waiting for Kelly to wake up with the same thin line of patience as you.

You woke him up with a slap to his shoulder.

Natalie was beaming, her eyes sparkled despite the fact that she was the doctor to the most heavily guarded patient in the whole city of Chicago. "I think congratulations are in order."

"What do you mean?"

She winked before handing you the tablet, "You're 11 weeks along Y/N. Congratulations you two."

You shook your head wildly and pressed a palm to your mouth, acting out what your defense mechanism wanted you to do. "Oh God…"

"Really?" Kelly asked next to you. He had already grabbed your hand and gripped it tightly, holding you to the ground of your new reality. "Are you for real?"

She nodded, "The tests don't lie. I'm so happy for you two."

Natalie hugged you both closely before disappearing back into the crowded ER.

"Hey," Kelly murmured, grasping your chin with his index finger and thumb. "What's wrong? You're not happy? I thought…"

You shook your head immediately, stopping him from saying something that was untrue. "No, Kelly… I'm really happy."

Two heartbeats within one body. Your body.

A child that was going to take after you and the man you loved most in this world…

You felt so incredibly lucky at that moment.

Yet so guilty.

"Our baby could've died today…"

Fresh onset of tears attacked your eyes, pushing through until the moisture was dripping down your face, and you tried to muffle the hiccups with your hands. Everything started to make sense.

"Baby you didn't know…" He tried to calm you.

You shook your head violently, dropping his attempts into the water. "I should've known better. We didn't use protection... Then I felt so sick last week."

"Y/N-"

"But I was so obsessed with Parker Torres that-" You couldn't even finish the sentence because the guilt turned into anger. "God I'm so stupid!"

"Babe, look at me," Kelly's voice hardened yet the hands with which he cupped your face were gentle and comforting. "You didn't know, so none of this is your fault. If you knowingly went in there that's when it would have been your fault."

He kissed your tears away and gave you the softest smile ever. "Do you want to have this baby with me? Because if you don't, we can…"

You stopped him with a kiss.

You were venerable in the moment of the kiss, yet you never felt more at home. In this kiss is the promise of years of love and the sweetness of life. No one mattered at that moment. Not Parker… Not anyone. Only you two and the vow you just shared.

The next few weeks will be hard, that much you knew. You were introduced to a new reality and priorities shifted. The hunt for your skeleton will continue in the hands of the people you trust most and as months go by the light will greet the darkness of your tunnel.

But the next few years, you see nothing but light and happiness.

No skeletons to torture your life, but a baby and a soulmate to make it better.

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MASTERLIST

[like-a-bag-of-potatoes]

Hunted - Chapter Three

A/N: This series is a military AU that will feature characters from Marvel and Supernatural. This will be a rollercoaster and I will try to warn accordingly for every chapter. Also, I want to throw out there that feedback is the fastest way to my heart. And last but not least, a shout out to my girl @thorne93​ for betaing all of this (and yelling at me), and to my girl @superapplepie​ for letting me test this story out on her, you guys are the best.  

THIS SERIES WAS PREVIOUSLY POSTED TO @sebs-potato

Flashbacks are italics. 

Warnings: Angst. 

Characters: Julia Smith (OFC), Bucky Barnes, Clint Barton, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Steve Rogers, Thor Odinson, Natasha Romanoff, Sam Wilson, Tony Stark

Wordcount: 2372

Series Summary: 

Julia Smith has spent her entire adult life serving her country, but now she lives her life as an inactive marine in New York city. She’s trying hard to find her footing as a civilian, but she can’t shake the restlessness that has settled in her bones. One day she gets an anonymous note with information about a friend’s suicide, and the chase for information begins.

Her first stop is her old comrade, James Barnes, and together they set out to reunite their old squad, to gather intel, and to solve a mystery. The deeper they dig, the more dangerous it gets, and it does not take long before they understand that they’re being hunted. Now it’s a race against the clock. Can they get to the bottom of this and find out who’s hunting them before they lose anymore men?

The squad is united again for one last mission, and it’s gonna be one hell of a ride.

May 5th 2018, Sam Wilson’s funeral, West Virginia:

A soft knock sounded on Bucky’s hotel room door. For a second he just stood there, immobile as his eyes locked on the blue jacket that was splayed out on the meticulously made bed. It took another knock to pull him out of his trance like state and get him to open the door. 

Julia stood on the other side of the door, her hazel eyes as blank and empty as Bucky’s. He didn't say anything, didn't even invite her in, instead he just let the door stay open as he turned away from her and walked back into his room. The sun shone through the thin white curtains, filling the small space with light. Bucky looked very handsome in his Blue Dress uniform, but today Julia wished none of them had to wear it. 

“We need to get going, Buck,” she said in a soft voice. 

“I'm just…” he said, but his voice trailed off there. She knew what he meant though, it had taken her a good while to get dressed today too. 

She walked over to the bed and carefully picked up his jacket before holding it out for him. A hint of appreciation flashed across his face before he turned around and let her help him put the jacket on. “Are you ready for this?” she asked carefully as she straightened out the shoulders, letting her hands linger there for a moment longer than she needed too. 

“As ready as I'll ever be,” he countered, his long fingers working on the many buttons. 

“Yeah,” she said in agreement, her eyes stung with tears as she thought about the day that lay before them, and the comrade they would have to say goodbye to. “Wilson would probably crack some sort of joke to lighten the mood right about now.” 

A huff of air left Bucky’s mouth before a fond smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “You’re right. And it would probably be something about you in a skirt,” he said with amusement, motioning towards Jules in her uniform. 

“Very true,” she agreed. 

***

Sergeant Wilson’s funeral was beautiful. Lots of kind words and funny anecdotes were shared through speeches from his friends and family. It was reassuring to them all to learn that Sam Wilson the civilian wasn't much different than Sam Wilson the soldier. They all got to say their goodbyes to their fallen comrade, and Steve had taken the podium to offer gratitude for Sam's service, both on behalf of the country and on behalf of the squad. 

Later on, when they all had had an opportunity to get changed out of their uniforms again, they met up at a small, hole in the wall pub, that was Wilson’s favorite watering hole. It was good to be together again, even though the circumstances could be better. 

Julia let her eyes take in the faces around the table. On her right sat Steve, the man who had officially welcomed her to Camp Lehigh after she passed all the tests. Then there was Dean, the ever flirty, but kind hearted mechanic of their squad, and his little brother Sammy, or doc, who had joined their squad after their medic fell in combat. There was Thor and Clint, the dynamic overwatch duo, the spotter and the sniper. A seat was left open for Wilson, a shot glass placed upside down on the table in front of the vacant chair to honor him. Then there was Bucky, and of course Julia. Seven people sat around the table, trying to end the day a bit better than it started, trying to fill the void which the empty chair had left in their souls. 

“So, Jules. How’s bartending going?” Thor asked, the squad playing catch up to keep track of how everyone was doing. 

“I got fired,” she said, downing a shot of vodka. “My boss wasn't too happy with me when I broke a guy’s nose,” she explained with a shrug. 

“You did what?” Clint asked with laughter in his voice. 

“He grabbed my ass, okay?” she defended. “I gave him fair warning before I elbowed him in the nose.” 

All eyes flitted over to Dean as Thor spoke up. “Sound familiar, Winchester?” he said with a chuckle. 

“Hey, I learned my lesson,” Dean defended, throwing his hands up. 

“Oh, there's a story there,” Sam piped in. “Tell me,” he demanded with amusement. 

“I don't think we need to go down that road,” Dean said before taking a huge gulp of his whiskey. 

“Why? Still embarrassed?” Steve taunted. 

“My pride is permanently damaged, alright?” the eldest Winchester said with a very dramatic voice. 

“I need to know this story,” Sam pressed, and all of a sudden all eyes were on Julia again. 

“Alright, Sammy,” she said with a smile before taking a sip of her beer. “It was during my first deployment with the squad. We had two days left and we were celebrating that all of us were going home with all limbs intact after a string of successful missions. Wilson had gotten his hands on some locally brewed vodka-” a collective shudder went around the table as they all remember the taste of the god awful booze- “It was nasty as fuck, but it got the job done. After about half a bottle, your brother comes up to me-” 

“Again, Wilson’s idea,” Dean pointed out. 

“Anyway… Dean comes up to me and places his hand on my ass before he invited me back to the tent for what he called a private celebration.” 

“Tell your brother how that worked out for you, Winchester,” Clint ordered, a wide grin on his face. 

“It didn't. I believe her exact words were ‘if you don't get your hand off my ass, I will tear it off and beat you to death with it’.” 

“Damn straight,” Jules said, reaching over and clinking her glass against Dean’s, shooting him a wink. 

“I remember Dean telling us he was gonna make a move,” Thor commented. “Everyone told him not to, except for Wilson who, of course, urged him on.” 

“Yeah… pretty sure he just wanted to see me get my ass kicked by a girl,” Dean said as he raised his glass, waiting for the others to do the same. “To Sergeant Wilson, the world is a less interesting place without you,” he said. 

“To Wilson,” the others said in unison, raising their glasses in salute to their fallen brother before emptying them. 

***

May 19th 2018, Clint Barton’s farm: 

Bucky and Julia made their way down the dirt road towards Hawkeye’s farm, the motorcycle undoubtedly making their arrival known. The farm was placed in the middle of nowhere, no civilization for miles and miles around it, just like Clint wanted it. Julia couldn't help but smile as the white townhouse came into view, green frames around the many windows, and a large tree with a swing hanging from it cast a shadow over their front porch. 

She had been here once before, her and Bucky had traveled up here to break the news when Natasha had died, given hers and Clint’s relationship it didn't seem right to do it over the phone. 

Clint stood on the grass in front of the house alongside his wife, Lexi, as Bucky pulled the bike to a stop and shut off the engine. An uneasy feeling settled in him as soon as he saw his two friends’ faces, the memory of the last time they were here was still fresh in his mind. Lexi reached down and laced fingers with her husband, knowing that whatever came next wasn’t gonna be good. 

Julia and Bucky dismounted the bike and put their helmets on the ground before making their way over to the two of them. This place was so peaceful, the only sounds that could be heard was birds chirping in the trees and a faint buzz of a river nearby, it didn't feel good for them to come here and disrupt the peace, but Hawkeye needed to be briefed.

Bucky went up and gave Clint a quick hug before hugging Lexi, then Julia did the same. 

“I'm always happy to see you guys, but something tells me this isn't a social visit,” Clint said knowingly. 

“Can we talk?” Julia asked. 

“I'll go get y’all some refreshments,” Lexi said, understanding that this conversation wasn't for her ears. 

“Thanks, babe,” Clint said as he kissed her cheek. “What's going on?” he asked as soon as she was out of earshot, a serious expression on his face. 

Julia filled him in on everything she knew, all from Sam and Natasha, to the note she got and finally about Donna and the hit list she had found. “We’re being targeted,” she finished. 

“Shit,” was all he could think of to say. “So what's next?” 

“You need to get your family out of here and into hiding,” Bucky said in a gravelly tone. “We’re gonna try and find out what's going on, but in the meantime I think we should all be looking over our shoulders.” 

“We could also use all the help we can get,” Julia said. 

“Don't get me wrong, I'd trust you both with my life. Hell, I've done that a million times, but this is all a bit much to swallow,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“I know, but we wouldn't be here if this wasn't real,” Julia countered. “If you don't want to help, that's fine, but you and your family need to go into hiding until we figure this out.” 

Something drew Hawkeye’s attention from his comrades and to a nearby hilltop, it wasn't much, but he swore he saw a blinking light. “GET DOWN!” he yelled, the three of them throwing themselves to the ground instantly. A bullet came soaring through the air and hit the ground two feet behind Clint, if he had been standing it would have gone straight through his head. 

All three of them got back on their feet, keeping low as they made their way into the house. “Take the kids into the basement,” Clint ordered his wife who looked terrified, but did as she was told. The trapdoor in the kitchen floor hid a steep set of stairs into what was a fully stocked safe room. Lexi and the kids had barely shut the hatch as the second bullet came crashing through the window. 

“Attic.” Clint took lead as the three of them climbed the stairs, keeping their heads low and bodies away from the windows. They climbed a ladder to the dusty attic where Clint had a sniper rifle setup in front of the small window there. He handed Jules his binoculars before he took his position in front of the gun. “South-west hilltop,” he said to Jules. “I need the exact distance and wind.” 

This was not Julia’s expertise, but she had been through training on this as well at some point. She scanned the hilltop, the digital scope giving her distances and such, but there were no one up there. “They’re gone,” she said. 

Before the words had left her mouth, Clint got back up, he knew they were gone too. “That bullet would have gone straight through my head,” he said knowingly. “I'm in.” 

***

“These are the coordinates to a hunting cabin, it's off the grid, deep in the woods, and can in no way be traced back to me,” Clint said as he handed a yellow post-it note to Bucky. “You guys go there, get set up, and I'll be there as soon as my family is safe.” 

“Where are you taking them?” Julia asked, concern in her hazel eyes. 

“Gonna keep that to myself,” he said, shooting them a wink. “I'll grab some untraceable phones on my way back, but other than that, the cabin should be fully stocked. I'll be there by sundown tomorrow.”  

And with that they parted ways, Clint in his car with his family, Jules and Bucky on his bike. 

It was the middle of the night and pitch black when the bike pulled up in front of the small cabin. Somewhere in the distance they could hear an owl hooting, some crickets were chirping in the grass, but other than that, it was dead quiet. 

“One of us should keep guard,” Bucky said as they opened the front door and stepped inside. It was a tidy space, but bore signs of not being used much over the past year's, they noticed a thin layer of dust covering every surface as Bucky shone his flashlight through the room. 

“You've been driving all day, I'll take first watch,” Julia stated simply. “Don't argue me on this, go get some shut eye, and I'll wake you in four hours,” she added when Bucky was about to protest. 

He shone the light at her, taking in her form for a second before he agreed, her face telling him that there would be absolutely no arguing with her. “Fine. Night vision goggles are in my duffle,” he said as he dropped the bag to the ground. 

Julia had already started rearranging the little kitchen, making room for a chair in front of the window that would give her the best overlook. “Thanks,” she said as he handed her the goggles and a bottle of water. 

“I'll be on the couch,” he said, pointing his thumb over his shoulder towards the sofa. 

“Hey, James?” Julia said softly as he was walking away from her. 

There it was again, his real name spoken with so much emotion, he didn't say anything though, just turned his head so he could see her. Or at least her outline in the darkness.

 “I'm sorry you got dragged into all of this. I had no idea what this was when I came to you.” 

“I know. You’re not at fault here.” He sat down on the couch and untied his shoes before he kicked them off and laid down. “We’re gonna get to the bottom of this,” he assured just as he closed his eyes, only then realizing how truly exhausted he was.

It had been a very long day. 

If you want a tag, send me an ASK.

Tags: @capandbucylvr  @buchanansebba​

[kenzieam]

Mortal - Chapter One (Loki X OFC)

Rating: M (smut, language, angst and sorrow)

Genre: Drama/Angst

@captstefanbrandt @iammarylastar @kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995 @notimetoblog @captain-ariel-barnes  @bitsandbobsandstuff @moonbeambucky @badassbaker @citylights221 @empress-of-boujee  @shynara51 @diinofayce @casestudy-mw  @jewels2876 @damnaged-princess @everythingisoverrated @allmyfanficfaves @clarabella960  @angryschnauzer @wowspideyholland @sergeantwhitewolf @smilexcaptainx  @chook007 @laketaj24 @wish-i-was-a-mermaid @brujademente @shirukitsune @lostinspace33  @booksteaandarainyday @averyrogers83

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

So.... my twisted mind now includes the God of Mischief.... this is my newest attempt with my newest OFC, Remy (btw, I literally just googled ‘redhead green eyes’ for this image, if it’s yours, DM me)

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

Remy is new to the team and is instantly intrigued when she meets the God of Mischief, Loki Odinson, for the first time. Although the dark prince has definitely been knocked down a few pegs, he still rejects the ‘tiny mortal’ when she shows her interest. Will Remy ever be able to catch his eye?

***Slightly Non-Canon. Asgard hasn’t been destroyed, Thanos didn’t succeed with the snap..... I’ve taken a few liberties, my lovelies***

Word Count - 4.6K

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“You’re dead!” Remy shrieked, scrambling to gather ammunition. With a war cry to rival any of her fellow Avengers, she launched herself forwards, lips drawn back from her teeth, her bottle-green eyes flashing like trapped fire. Her body collided with her quarry with a harsh thud and they fell back to the ground with mingled roars.

Remy rolled to straddle her opponent and mashed snow deep into Bucky’s collar and down his coat, grabbing more handfuls and stuffing them further down; until the massive man’s roars had changed into laughter and gasps for mercy. Not finished, she held snow above his brown-haired head, using her power to melt it just enough, letting the frigid liquid drip onto his face. His squeals became downright girlish as he bucked and twisted beneath her. Despite the fact that he was capable of literally tearing Remy apart, limb from limb, Bucky was always gentle with her, having adopted the broken young woman as a kid sister not long after she’d appeared in the Tower.

“Okay! Okay, Remy, stop!” He bellowed, hands scrambling to pin her arms down and Remy finally relented, falling back onto the ground in hysterics. Bucky surged up, snow in hand, ready to return the torment but Remy held up a hand threatening, letting the blue flame dance dangerously between her fingers.  

“Hey, no powers!” Bucky snorted and Remy dropped her hand, chagrined. At the last moment, she realized her error and tried to summon her flame again, but she was too slow, and Bucky, enhanced as he was, was downright fast; and before she could stop him, he mashed one more snowball in her face before rolling gracefully like a cat and leaping to his feet.  

Remy sputtered indignantly, tempted to singe the smug bastard’s eyebrows off when he reached down to help her stand. Laughing, Bucky pulled her close for a bear hug, ruffling her hair as he pulled away. Levi, Bucky’s wife and Remy’s best friend, appeared at his side, elbowing him hard enough to make him squawk in surprise.  

“Don’t trust him, Rem. You had him, you were kicking his ass.”

“Hey!” Bucky whined.

Levi ignored her husband and grinned at Remy. “We can take him, I’ll help.”

“Truce, truce!” Bucky yelled, stepping rapidly away.

“Boys win anyway!” Sam shouted from a dozen feet away, safely hidden behind a wall of snow.

“NO, girls. You cheated!” Levi threw back.

“So did you!” Sam volleyed.

“You cheated first!” Levi returned.

“You’re all disqualified!” Steve announced; his cheeks were beet red from Natasha holding him down and smearing snow in his face and packing his hoodie full and he threw a dirty look back at the woman. “You’re all dirty, cheating varmints!”

Remy, Levi and Natasha gawked at each other in shock for a heartbeat before dissolving into giggles and even Sam and Bucky stared at Steve like he’d grown another head.

“Varmints?!” Bucky demanded.

“What are you, a damn cowboy?” Sam added and Remy flashed a wink in the girl’s direction before whirling to face him, snapping her arm like she was throwing a skipping stone across a lake. A ping-pong sized ball of blue flame shot through the air and hit the snow wall, splashing slush into Sam’s face and chest, his indignant howl drowned out by the girl’s triumphant laughter. Bucky and Steve joined in, Steve falling to his knees and Bucky staggering and almost following him.

“Alright! Kinder! Playtime’s over!” Tony appeared, stepping daintily through the snow like he thought it might be lava. He stared at the hysterical team, taking in the scene before shaking his head and looking heavenward for guidance.  

Remy’s hand twitched and he leveled her with a glower. “Don’t even think about it, Zippo. My eyebrows just grew back.”

Steve was the first to recover, pushing hard on Bucky’s shoulder to help himself stand, sending his friend sputtering back down to his knees. “What’s up, Tony?”

Tony took in the Captain’s flaming red cheeks and wet hair and raised a brow to comment, but held his tongue, a rare event indeed. “We’re expecting visitors.”

“Good visitors, or bad visitors?” Sam asked, still wiping slush off his jacket.

“Depends on how you look at it.” Tony replied wryly. “Thunderthighs is due to arrive sometime in the now.”

“Thunderthighs?” Remy echoed, glancing around for clarification.

Steve rolled his eyes. “He means Thor. You’ve only been with us for a few months, you haven’t met him yet, but I’m sure you know who he is.”

“The God of Thunder? Everyone does.”

“He’s bringing King Emo with him too.” Tony pouted.

Remy glanced around in confusion. The immediate elation of the group regarding Thor sputtered to a stop, tension growing in its wake. “Who’s that?” She ventured timidly; whoever it was, must be bad.

Steve exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. “His brother, Loki.”

A tangle of conflicting emotions shot through Remy. She knew of the attacks on New York by the Asgardian prince, who didn’t? but she also knew what it was like to be ostracized and shunned by everyone. Her entire life, until she’d joined the Avengers, had been one long and heart-breaking line of prejudice and hatred, fear and rejection. People hated what was different, feared what they didn’t know and, until Remy had lucked out with her arresting police sergeant who’d known Tony and been accepted by the team due to her unique skill set, had done more than a few things she regretted out of anger and resentment for having never been given a chance.  

“Thor says he’s changed.” Tony added, somberly enough to not use his treasured nickname.  

Sam and Natasha snorted, sounding like twin ponies. “I’ll believe it when I see it.” Sam grumbled.  

“Stop it.” Levi spoke up suddenly. “Remember what I was like when you found me.”

“You were tortured and brainwashed.” Sam replied. “This one was born bad.”

“That’s the thing.” Tony continued. “Apparently, Emo the Evil was, by Thanos. According to his brother, anyway. He was just a puppet getting his strings pulled.”

Stunned silence befell the group. Global devastation by said Thanos had been narrowly avoided only short months ago, right before Remy had joined and nobody had forgotten yet the depths of depravity and cruelty the purple monster was capable of.  

“Really?” Bucky spoke suddenly, sounding like the wind had been knocked out of him. He too, was all too familiar with brainwashing and torture. “If that’s true...” he trailed off, either unable or unwilling to finish the thought.  

“Doesn’t mean I’m going to apologize for kicking his ass,” Tony continued, “but even I’ll admit that Thunderthighs is incapable of lying, if he says it happened, it happened.”

The group shifted uneasily. Not a one of them, not even Captain America himself, lived outside a glass house on this one. All had done something at one point in their lives that they wished with everything they had they could go back and change.

Remy opened her mouth to ask more questions, but Tony turned his attention to the sky and sighed. “They’re hheeerrrreeeee.”

Remy followed his gaze, focusing on what looked like a star in the daylight sky, growing steadily larger as she watched. It grew huge and Remy glanced at her teammates in concern, but they simply watched the sky with a mix of anticipation and resignation. With a crack like thunder the world suddenly went white and Remy felt a shockwave jolt her on her feet. She blinked rapidly, holding up a hand to shade her eyes and was gradually able to focus on two new figures standing apart from the group.  

The closer was tall and broad, golden and absurdly handsome. A friendly, gregarious smile made him even more delectable on the eyes. One of his eyes was missing, replaced by a small patch, but it only seemed to add to his prestige, his bearing.  

This could only be Thor.  

Behind him, looking like he’d rather be anywhere but his current location, stood a black-haired man. As lithe and dark as Thor was broad and luminous, his sharp blue eyes darted quickly around, assessing and calculating. He looked ready to bolt at the slightest provocation and only seemed to relax when Thor turned his head and spoke quietly to him. He nodded slightly in answer and rolled his shoulders, fighting to relax.  

Remy was instantly intrigued by the paradoxical pair.

Thor threw his arms wide and roared a greeting, stepping forwards. The team surged to meet him and the next few minutes were all shoulder-slapping and hugs, laughter and good-natured insults. Remy saw Loki standing apart, watching the proceedings with a mixture of longing and disgust before she was grabbed by two massive hands and all but lifted off the ground.

“And who is this?” Thor boomed, grinning widely at her. Remy couldn’t help but grin back, the man was contagious.  

Steve answered him. “Remy, she’s new to the team.”

“Ah; welcome, Lady Remy. And what is your gift that brought you to us?”  

Remy blushed, she was still getting used to referring to her powers as a gift, her whole life they’d been a curse, a liability.  

“Pyrokenesis.” She mumbled, dazed by the glorious sun all but holding her off the ground. When Thor frowned, either not hearing her mumble or not understanding the word, she held up a tentative hand to demonstrate. As the small blue ball of flame appeared over her palm, Thor startled, then boomed with laughter. Remy felt her gaze drawn to his silent brother, saw the brief flash of interest before he purposefully looked away again.  

“A fire goddess!” Thor bellowed. “Beautiful, beautiful!” He set her down with the exuberance and power of a large dog, keeping one massive arm slung over her shoulder in a manner she’d come to expect from Bucky and Steve. Something about her seemed to spark the protective instincts of the men around her, she was instantly adopted as a kid sister and drawn under their wings. For someone who’d never had family, Remy absorbed the attention like parched earth with water, and worked daily to deserve it.

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

Although they weren’t staying for an extended period, Thor settled in almost instantly, making himself completely at home. His brother, however, was another story. If it wasn’t for Tony’s order to F.R.I.D.A.Y. to keep an eye on the elusive man, no one would have a clue where he was most of the time.  

As it was, the dark-haired prince seemed to live in the library; moving from his quarters to there but little place else, unless he was expressly, and almost literally, dragged by his golden brother to join the team at meals. He hardly spoke, never volunteering to initiate a conversation, and answered only the most direct of questions, although those were few and far between. It seemed only the team’s love and respect for Thor kept them civil to Loki, with some outright ignoring him, while most remaining cordial, but distant.  

It didn’t seem to affect Loki, however. With no previous comparisons to draw from, Remy found herself unable to believe that the subdued prince had been anything but; surely not the cocky, arrogant and cunningly evil monster he was described as. She would have outright rejected the description if they hadn’t c0me from the people she lived with, the only people she trusted.  

Nevertheless, her fascination with Thor’s younger brother refused to wane. Until the god’s appearance, the library had been Remy’s main hangout, a quiet place where she could read and relax, but she’d relinquished it to the raven-haired man at first, until her curiosity got the best of her. The first time she entered the library she startled the prince, and she wasn’t sure if the wide-eyed stare she received was because she was bold enough to share the same space or because she’d managed to startle him. But Remy’s life had taught her to move silently, to hide and be stealthy, and she consciously had to remind herself to make noise most of the time when she entered a room, for she was able to remain hidden even from her enhanced teammates if she wanted.                        

“Sorry.” When he didn’t respond she ventured timidly. “I’ll stay over here.” Again, Loki remained silent, turning his attention back to his book, but he hadn’t thrown it at her, or roared for her to leave, so she took that as a good sign.  

When Remy’s watch began beeping later, reminding her that she was expected in the training rooms for advanced combat instruction, it startled her out of the surprisingly comfortable silence she and the visiting god had fallen into. Loki seemed willing to coexist, at opposite ends of the room, as long as no words were spoken. Generally, Remy was graceful, or at least capable of moving without hurting herself, but she nonetheless stumbled and fell off the comfortable bench she’d been nestled in and, if the quiet snort she thought she heard had indeed come from Loki, his face was passive, attention solely on his book when she scrambled to her feet and brushed off her jeans, sneaking a glance his way.      

“See you later,” she offered, not really surprised but faintly disappointed when the prince didn’t respond before she left the room.  

The script was the same for the next few days. Regardless of who reached the library first, it became an unspoken rule that the fewer words exchanged the better. Remy still attempted conversation occasionally, but became used to Loki’s silences. She couldn’t say exactly how she knew, but it seemed his was a listening silence rather than an avoiding one and Remy resolved to let it be. From what she could gather, Loki tolerated the company of pathetically few and if they could share the library without bloodshed, she could handle that.        

His golden brother was a completely different animal. He seemed fascinated by Remy’s talent and roared with laughter after he’d cajoled her again and again into conjuring yet another blast of fire, nearly wetting himself when Sam stepped unexpectedly around the corner and had his eyebrows singed off.        

“What’s Asgard like?” Remy asked one afternoon. Thor had joined the team in training that day and they were taking a break from sparring.  

“Beautiful,” Thor replied, smiling his dazzling smile. “It’s hard to describe without seeing it, you should visit sometime; I think you and Jane would get along like, what is the Midgardian saying, ‘like a building ablaze’?”

“Like a house afire.” Remy laughed. She remembered hearing of Thor’s once-mortal wife, a scientist from Earth who now lived in Asgard. “She didn’t come with you?”

Thor shook his head, his smile widening. “Our daughter is newborn and a handful, she finds it easier to stay where it has become familiar.”

“Oh, congratulations!” Remy gasped. “I didn’t know you guys had a baby!”

“Thank you,” Thor replied with surprisingly humility.  

“Does Loki enjoy his little niece?” As soon as the words left her mouth, she wished them back; biting her lip viciously as a dark look passed through Thor’s normally sunny expression.  

“Loki enjoys precious little anymore.” His voice was subdued, almost as if he didn’t want to be heard. “He is his most harsh critic for his past actions. And that is saying something when you see how he is ostracized by seemingly everyone.”

“He’s changed, then?”  

For a brief instant, anger flashed in his eye, then remembrance that Remy truly didn’t know Loki, had not been a part of the team who’d stopped his attack of New York, and therefore had no idea and no chance to be sarcastic. “Yes, few would believe it, but yes. Between our parent’s deaths, Thanos’ near victory and almost losing our home world; he has been shaken to his core, and what has emerged is a far cry from the man everyone knew.”

“A phoenix.” Remy mumbled. “Rising from the ashes.”

“Truer in more ways than you could know.” Thor replied quietly. He fell silent, his sudden somberness almost suffocating them before he cleared his throat, making a conscious effort to shrug it off. “I must thank you, though, my Lady.”

Remy stared at him in confusion.  

“Loki enjoys your company in the library.” Thor continued, shooting her a conspiratorial smile.

“Really? Cause he never talks, and he never acts like he-”

“Trust me, my Lady Remy. My brother is a closed book, but I can still read him. He continues to meet you there, he likes your company. He’ll also never say anything, so don’t let on that I’ve told you.” He elbowed Remy with a chuckle and a ‘we have a secret’ wink.  

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

Remy felt on edge, a maddening yet vague uneasiness she’d yet to fully pin down the reason for. That morning, at breakfast, Thor had announced that he and Loki would be leaving the next morning and that was when the nerves had begun. But was Remy sad to lose Thor’s company, or Loki’s? She’d surely had far more meaningful and enjoyable conversations with the golden god, yet a sharp ache settled in her chest at the thought of no more quiet days in the library, content with the knowledge that a simple lift of her head would show her the graceful, silent prince still seated opposite her, engrossed in whatever book he’d chosen that day, turning the pages slowly, focused entirely on the words.

Remy wasn’t good at letting go. Life had taught her to expect nothing but disappointment and pain, but since she’d joined the Avengers, she’d been all but drowned in love and acceptance, family and friends and had become a jealous guardian of her happiness.  

Loki was there already, when Remy entered the library, his eyes flicking to skate briefly over her before returning to his book. This was as much of a welcome Remy could expect, but it warmed her heart all the same.  

The prince broke the script today, however. Far too soon, with not nearly enough quiet, content time between them, he stood to leave, closing his book silently and Remy felt a dart of panic. She scrambled off her bench, forever clumsy in the dark prince’s presence.

“Wait!”

He turned slightly, raising a brow imperiously. There was a strange gleam in his eyes, a tense set to his jaw.  

“I.... I’ve liked this. Reading with you.”

A flash, something passing through his sharp eyes.  

“I’ll miss you.” Remy continued, letting her true meaning bleed into her eyes, hoping the prince would understand what she was still too scared and unsure of to say out loud.  

“You will miss me?” He voice was low, cultured; exactly what you’d expect from a prince, despite the fact that he only seemed to carry himself as one here in the library, a place where he seemed to have found some degree of peace.  

“Yeah, I mean-”

“You are mistaken. Just because I’ve tolerated your presence does not mean I have enjoyed it.”

Remy stumbled, mouth opening and closing. “But-”

“You are nothing more than a foolish child. A foolish mortal child.” His harsh gaze cut deeper than his words, and Remy felt hot with sudden, jetting blood. “Whatever delusions you fostered in your tiny mind were just that, delusions.”  

Tears felt like acid trailing down her cheeks, blurring the man who stood before her, his boot crushing her heart. He seemed to flinch at her tears, but it had to be the hot shame and humiliation clouding her vision and Remy turned away, bowing in on herself. If Loki paused, seemed to hesitate before marching away, then that had to be her imagination too.  

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

After collapsing in her quarters and dragging herself to supper last night to avoid arousing suspicion, Remy nearly bit the inside of her cheeks bloody maintaining her dignity the next morning. She succeeded in hugging Thor and joking with him, managed to keep from dissolving into tears and giving away her horrible shame, but she couldn’t bring herself to look Loki’s way. The only one who seemed to notice was Thor himself, and he held her a heartbeat longer than expected before releasing her, a gentle warmth in his gaze as he met her eyes again.  

“Until we meet again, my Lady.” He murmured, leaning forwards to press a kiss to her forehead. As his lips left her skin, she heard him breathe the words, so low she could almost tell herself he hadn’t said them at all, ‘I’m sorry’.

Then he straightened, his sunny smile, if slightly forced, still strong on his handsome face and turned away.  

With a flash of lightning and crack of thunder, the brother gods were gone.

FIVE YEARS LATER

Her grief was crushing, tearing her chest apart so she could hardly draw breath. The picture in her hand shook as she fought to hold herself together.  

“Eric.” She whispered, fresh tears trailing warmth down her flushed cheeks.  

He wasn’t supposed to have been there; sure, he was an Avenger, but he’d been injured and should have stayed back in the compound, stayed with Remy; but he hadn’t, blinded by duty to his team.

Dammit, it was her fault, she was the reason the team was short, she was the reason Eric had ignored her pleas to stay with her and suited up, gifting her with one last smile before boarding the quinjet. He’d come back, like he’d promised, but not alive.  

They’d finally started to build a family together, things had finally started going their way; then that bitch Fate had stormed through, scattering them like chess pieces.  

Teammates at first, but certainly not friends. Then lovers, means of release. Friendship came later, then the pink ‘+’ sign on the pregnancy test had forced them together again after their fresh, heated break-up.  

Timidly, they’d tried. Made an effort for their unborn child’s sake, and discovered new facets of each other, new depths of affection and, maybe even love.  

His ring was dead weight on her finger. He'd proposed to her, tears in his bottomless eyes as he’d cried, wanting to marry Remy before their child was born, to be a complete family right from the start.  

Her daughter’s cry pulled Remy from her grief, before it could consume her again, before it became necessary for Steve or Bucky to shake her shoulders and shout her back into the present, like they’d been forced to many times already.  

It had been months, and it still felt like mere moments since Steve had stepped down from the quinjet, his face grave. He and Bucky had caught Remy as she fell, Bucky pulling her to his broad chest as she screamed, Steve’s hand rubbing soothing circles on her back. She’d barely begun to show yet, but Eric had seen it, felt it; had dropped to his knees to speak to his child before he’d smiled at her and left, for the last time it turned out.

It hadn’t been Eric holding Remy’s hand as she pushed their daughter into the world, it hadn’t been Eric murmuring soothing words in her ear, bathing her sweaty brow; it had been her closest friends, her teammates. Steve holding one hand, Bucky the other, Levi leaning over and bathing her brow, all three murmuring to her. Nat and Sam and Tony pacing outside.  

Love like she’d never felt before consumed Remy as her daughter was laid gently on her chest, as her adopted big brothers cooed welcomes to their niece, before Levi pulled the men away to give Remy a moment alone. Auburn hair lay plastered to her tiny scalp and her wee fists beat the air as she screamed, quieting only when Remy whispered to her, gifted her with her name, the only name Eric had thought of, and the only one that fit.

Aurora.

To Remy, her name meant both the dawn and the darkness.

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

“Sounds like Thunderthighs is coming over again.” Tony reported, glancing up from his tablet. Murmurs of agreement and burgeoning excitement met his proclamation around the breakfast table, and Remy felt a thrill of joy.  

Burdened with the weight of Asgard’s crown, Thor had only returned to Earth a few times in the last five years, but Remy had cherished every visit, even while her heart beat with shamed anticipation.  

But his brother had never returned, and while one side of Remy’s heart sighed with relief, the other side coiled with grief.  

Would Loki even recognize her now? Surely, he could no longer dismiss her as a child, not with a dead fiancé and infant, still staggering under the weight of what might have been. Surely, she would be worthy of his god’s attention now.

But it didn’t matter. That flower had been crushed before it ever had a chance to bloom. The black-haired man had no place in her thoughts anymore; her life was her daughter, her team.

“When?” Remy asked, distracted by her child’s whimpers as she nursed before pulling away, full and satisfied.

The distant roll of thunder answered her and Remy gathered herself, standing to hurry outside and welcome the golden King.  

Most of the team present at breakfast followed her, but Remy stepped ahead of the group, ready to embrace her friend and lay his adopted niece in his golden arms.  

Sheltering Rora against her to protect her from the shockwave, Remy bowed her head as the thunder crashed over her; a smile pulling at her lips to welcome the god of Thunder.

Her heart stuttered to a stop, and rage began boiling in her veins when she saw it was his dark brother, Loki, standing there instead. 

[madpanda75]

Just admit I’m right with Barba family. Y/n insist on holding a squad thanksgiving while pregnant and Mila being clingy to her parents and Raf thinks it’s a terrible idea.

I combined this with another request from @sweetcannolicarisi “It’s only for grown-ups” with your Barba family?? Maybe someone wants to sit at the adult table? And they’re not old enough yet?

 I made a little change and had the Barbas celebrate Thanksgiving a little later since the Reader is preggo in this story. Also to follow the timeline, the reader doesn’t know it’s twins yet!

Thank you soooo much for the requests! I hope you both like it!!! ❤️

Thanks for all the likes, comments, and reblogs! 😘 If anyone else wants to be tagged, let me know!

If you want to read my Hostage story and other Barba Family drabbles, check out my Masterlist. I’m taking requests too, so send in ideas.

“Thanksgiving with the Barbas”

You opened the oven door the savory smell of turkey wafting through the air as you basted the bird with its juices before going back to the counter to roll out your pie crust. Martha Stewart was on your iPad, calmly showing you how to make the perfect pumpkin pie. You took a deep breath, channeling your inner domestic goddess, as you hung on her every word. “You will amaze your guests, with my fool proof pie crust recipe, which is so easy to make and essential for the holiday season.”

Looking out the window, you saw that it had started to snow and silently prayed it wouldn’t delay your guests that evening. It was Thanksgiving, well actually it was two weeks past Thanksgiving, but who cared. With the squad working on a last minute major case and you being sick with what you thought was the flu, nobody had time to actually celebrate. Much to Rafael’s dismay, you insisted on having everyone over for a Thanksgiving dinner in early December. Who said you could only be grateful during the month of November?

You had worked yourself up over having the perfect Thanksgiving, watching countless videos of Martha Stewart on YouTube, creating Pinterest boards, looking up recipes at all hours of the night. Of course when you were planning this little shindig earlier, you hadn’t factored in your pregnancy, despite the nausea and exhaustion, you were determined to put together the absolute perfect Thanksgiving dinner.

While watching Martha demonstrate how to trim the edges of the pie crust, you felt a tug on your pant leg. Looking down, you saw Mila, she had been your little shadow all morning, following you around the house. “Mami! Up!” She said, with her little arms outstretched.

You scooped up your daughter, multitasking as you continued to work on your pie, but crimping edges on your crust while holding a toddler turned out to be easier said than done. “Baby, I have to put you down. I can’t listen to Martha, make a pretty pie, and hold you at the same time.” You said, trying to peel Mila off your frame.

“No! Peez Mami! Hold me!” The little girl tightened her hold around you, hiding her face in your neck when you heard Rafael come into the apartment, you had sent him on an important errand run earlier.

“Papi’s home. Don’t you want to go see Papi?” You asked your daughter, hoping that would entice her to be put down.

Mila shook her head, “No! Want Mami!”

Rafael came into the kitchen, carrying two large grocery bags and setting them on the counter. “Hola, mi reina y princesa.”

You kissed your husband, “Hola, mi amor. Did you get everything on the list?”

Rafael began pulling items out of the bags.“Yep, extra cinnamon sticks, vanilla extract, cloves, fresh sage, bottle of wine, eggs, a sugar pumpkin, and last but not least pickles and sriracha for the baby.” He winked, bending down to kiss your belly, which was difficult to do with Mila in your arms.

“You got one pumpkin?” You said, using your free hand to sift through the now empty bags in search of the other nine you had asked your husband to get.

“Mmmhmm, I take care of mi reina.” Rafael kissed your cheek, before pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“Si, pero tu reina wanted 10 sugar pumpkins.”

Rafael practically spit out his coffee, “Ten! Y/N, there was only one left at the store. I practically had to fight a woman for this pumpkin. Let’s hope she doesn’t press charges.”

You adjusted your daughter on your hip, feeling panic setting in, “But those pumpkins were going to be the “place cards” for the tables!  How are people supposed to know where to sit!?”

“Ummm…we let them pick their own seats?” Rafael said, he had told you from the beginning that hosting a Thanksgiving dinner was a bad idea.

As you looked down at your one sad pumpkin and half done pie crust, tears threatened your eyes. “Rafael! What are we going to do?! Nothing is cooked, we have no place cards, Mila is stuck to me like glue! This is a disaster!” You ranted, until you felt a wave of morning sickness wash over you. “Rafael…”

Your husband took in your green face, “Mi amor, are you ok?”

“Take the baby!” You exclaimed, handing Mila over to your husband as you pushed past him, running towards the bathroom. Your daughter screamed and cried, trying to wriggle out of her father’s grasp. “MAMI! Come back!”

Several minutes later, you emerged from the bathroom, exhausted and lightheaded. Your daughter ran up to you again. “Mami!” You picked her up, running a hand through her curls, moving to sit down in the living room. Rafael sat down next to you, handing you a ginger ale and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “You know it’s not too late to cancel. We can just go to a restaurant. You wouldn’t have to cook or stress about anything.”

Your husband almost convinced you to call the whole thing off but one factor he didn’t take into account was your stubbornness. You were determined to host Thanksgiving dinner. “No! I’ve come too far and worked too hard just to throw in the towel now! I’m going to finish this meal! ¿Me entiendes? You with me, Papi?!”

“I’m with you.” Rafael saw the crazed look in your eyes and thought it best to just agree with you. “What can I do to help?” He asked.

“Take our daughter. I can’t cook if she’s clinging on to me.” Rafael took Mila from you as she cried and tried to reach for you again. You went back into the kitchen with razor sharp focus, taking a deep breath as you looked down at Martha Stewart on your iPad. “Ok, Martha. It’s you and me. Let’s do this.”

Apart from Mila escaping from Rafael and running into the kitchen a couple times, the next few hours went by fairly smoothly. Once your daughter fell asleep for her nap, Rafael helped you finish cooking although it was hard to concentrate on preparing the food with your sexy husband. “Mmmm, you look so hot right now, showing those potatoes who’s the boss.” He purred in your ear while you peeled potatoes, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your neck.

You giggled, trying to wiggle away from him, “You dork! Déjame Papi and stir the cranberry sauce on the stove.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Rafael winked, “I love it when you boss me around in the kitchen.”

Finally, everything was finished, the table was set, the house was clean, now you just had to wait for your guests. Amanda and Jesse were the first to arrive, followed by Sonny, Olivia, and Noah. Fin was stopping by later with his grandson, Jaden. Mila woke up still being clingy, refusing to play with Jesse and Noah, never leaving your side or Rafael’s. Not even Sonny could coax her out of her shell, “Hey Mila! It’s Uncle Sonny! Want to draw a picture with me?”

“No.” She whimpered, hiding her little face in Rafael’s neck. You were surprised at your daughter’s behavior, normally she was a friendly outgoing little girl.

Amanda followed you into the kitchen, helping you grab the food to place on the table. She slyly studied your profile while you scooped the mashed potatoes into a serving dish. “So, how far along are you?” She softly said.

“About 5 weeks, wait-” you narrowed your eyes at your former partner and friend. “How did you know?”

She smiled, shaking her head. “Well, you haven’t had a glass of wine all night and besides that, you’re glowing.”

“That glow is called sweat, Amanda.”

Amanda laughed, hugging you tightly. “Congratulations, I’m so happy for you.”

“Thanks,” you replied before calling everyone to dinner.

Rafael sat Mila at the kid’s table, trying to unwrap the toddler’s arms from around his neck. “Papi! No! Mila sit with you and Mami at big table.”

Rafael shook his head, “No muñequita, it’s only for grown-ups. You stay here with Noah and Jessie.”

“Yeah Mila! Stay with us.” Noah said.

While everyone ate, your daughter kept running up to you and Rafael. Every time your husband sent her back to the kid’s table, she would run right back, just as stubborn as her parents. “Just let her sit with us, Rafi.” You said after the sixth time, wanting him to enjoy the food you had spent hours cooking. Rafael sat Mila in his lap, the little girl snuggling up against her father.

Olivia looked over at you, “It’s just a phase. Trust me, Noah went through the same thing.”

Amanda nodded her head in agreement, “Jessie did too.” You sighed, feeling a little relieved knowing your friends had experienced the same thing with their children.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. “That must be Fin and Jaden.” You opened the door, welcoming the sergeant and his grandson into your home.

As you were getting your new guests situated, Fin led his grandson over to where Rafael and Mila were sitting. “Hi Mila! This is Jaden, I brought him to your birthday party.”

Jaden smiled and waved, “Hi. Wanna sit next to me?”

Mila popped her head up from where she was hiding her face in Rafael’s shirt. She looked at the little boy for a second with curious eyes. “Ok,” she softly said with a smile, hopping off her father’s lap, Mila took the boy’s hand as he led her to the kid’s table.

Rafael sat there stunned, his daughter hadn’t gone to anyone all day. You came back to the table, noticing your husband’s now empty lap. “Where did Mila go?”

“She left me.” He said with sad puppy dog eyes. “She went to go sit next to Fin’s grandson.”

Your eyes followed Rafael’s gaze to see Mila smiling and talking with Jaden. “Awwww I think it’s cute. Her first little crush.”

Rafael looked at you in shock, “Cute? You think it’s cute that she abandons her father? Also I don’t like the idea of our daughter having crushes on older men.”

You snorted a laugh, taking Rafael’s hand, “Mi amor, Jaden is only a year older than Mila. Don’t you think you’re being a tad overdramatic.”

“No,” Rafael said with a pout, watching as Jaden whispered something in Mila’s ear, making her giggle. “Muñequita? Are you ok?” He called out to her. The toddler waved to her father before turning her attention back to her little friend.

“Relax, Papi. It’s not like she’s going to go and get married tomorrow. You squeezed your husband’s hand, kissing his cheek. “Let’s change the subject. Do you want to tell everyone the good news?”

“Yeah, let’s tell them.” Rafael wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as you tapped on your glass to get everyone’s attention. “Now that you all are here, Rafael and I have an announcement to make.” You blushed a bit, letting out a big breath. “I’m pregnant.”

The squad was thrilled, swarming you and Rafael, hugging you both while offering their congratulations. Sonny wrapped you up in a bear hug, picking you up off the ground while Fin was already dropping hints about being the baby’s godfather. Your husband smiled, watching as Jesse, Noah, Jaden, and Mila all took turns touching your stomach, amazed that there was a baby in there.

After the excitement died down, everyone went back to the table, laughing and talking. You looked up at Rafael, smiling, “I told you this was a good idea.”

He slowly nodded his head, “Today had its challenges, but-” you cut him off, placing your finger on his lips, effectively silencing him. “Mi amor, just admit I’m right.”

“Fine, you’re right,” he smirked, kissing you softly.

“See that wasn’t so hard,” you whispered against his lips before kissing him again with a little more fervor.

Sonny spied you and Rafael from across the table and playfully threw his roll at your head, “Hey you two! Some people are trying to eat here.”

You glared at your partner, but there was no anger behind it. “Mind your own business, Sonny,” you said, throwing the roll back at him.

“Y/N! Carisi! Do I need to separate you two?” Olivia interjected.

“No, ma’am,” you and Sonny both mumbled, trying not to laugh as you stared at your plates.

She looked at you both, “Good! Now finish your dinner or no dessert!” Sonny winked at you from across the table. You smiled back at him. Looking around the table at your family, you realized all the stress and hard work from the day was worth it if it meant bringing everyone together.

@obfuscateyummy @beltzboys2015-blog @letty-o @sweetsummertime99 @sonnysdoll @amirightcounsellor @lyssa1385 @burningsorr0ws @katmstanton @mimiashton @gibbs274 @izzythefanfreak @southern-magnolia @riodallas

[myotishia]

Masquerade part one

Fandom: Torchwood. Trigger warnings: None as far as I know but feel free to suggest. Characters: Owen Harper, Toshiko Sato, Jack Harkness, Ianto Jones, Gwen Cooper, Elise Carter (oc) Rating: Teen and up

Blurb: The police and Torchwoods relationship had calmed in recent months but one officer just can’t seem to let it go. Meanwhile the team get a second chance to defeat an old foe. 

Sergeant Farrell grumbled as he found another redacted file pertaining to a case linked to this mysterious Torchwood. The most he’d gotten from his research was that Gwen Cooper used to be a police officer and she moved on to being a police liaison, but even her current residential address had been struck from the record. And as for this Elise Carter there was even less. The only thing he could find for her was that she had a current drivers licence. It was ridiculous. All he knew was wherever the name Torchwood appeared people died and he was certain these people were not special branch. To him it felt more like organised crime. No legitimate law enforcement branch would have two women in from what he guessed were their twenties sent to a murder scene. Just because the rest of his department were frightened of this group didn’t mean he was.

Ianto flinched as Owen examined the healing bite on his neck. The bruising had gone down a lot but it was still there. It just didn’t need painkillers anymore.

“Looks fine. I’m happy to clear you to go back to general duties if you’re ready.” Owen said, all business.

“I am… I’ve started to remember more of what happened.”

“Yea?”

“Mm… I was going to die, wasn’t I?”

Owen paused. “You were close to it. How’d you guess?”

“You called me by my name. You only do that when someone’s dying or practically dead.”

“You lost about 38%. I wasn’t sure if we were going to get you stabilized in time. Elise risked space jumping with you to get you here faster. We’re lucky it worked.”

“Shit… I don’t even know how long I was down there.”

“Neither do we, that’s the problem when you disappear all day.”

Ianto pulled his shirt back on and buttoned it up. “I’ll have to check in more often.”

“Yea, I don’t plan on starting to make my own coffee now. Got that tea boy?”

“Definitely not dying anymore then.” He rolled his eyes.

Gwen sat next to a tearful woman, trying to console her.

“I just don’t understand. Was it something I did?”

“No, no of course not.” She soothed, , knowing the woman would never get the answers she wanted. Her husband had found a device while metal detecting which was essentially a teleporter. Sadly it was a one way device and there was no way to reverse it. Gwen was having to tell the woman that though they didn’t know where he was he had bought tickets to fly to Egypt one way. Sometimes lying to someone's face was part of the job. Jack was waiting in the SUV having secured the device. Years ago he would have just left the whole thing as a missing persons case but Gwen insisted on giving the family closure. He understood why but it meant a lot of waiting around. As if feeling his boredom on the air he got a call from Tosh.

“Calling me in secret? That’s pretty scandalous.” He smiled to himself.

“We just intercepted a party invitation.”

“I think we could throw our own parties if we wanted to.”

“No, a very specific party, complete with an auction.”

“I suppose they didn’t learn their lesson from the last time we crashed their little get together. Where is it being held this time?”

“I’m not sure yet. It looks like they’re being more careful this time.”

“Keep at it. I’m kind of interested what this years theme’s going to be.”

“I’m sure it’ll be over the top.”

“You liked the designer dress you got to wear last time.”

“Yes and it cost more than my car, that’s insane. Owen’s not going to be happy.”

“One day of wearing a suit won’t kill him. I’ll tell everyone when I get back.”

“You just want to see the look on his face.”

“Just like last time.”

The party had been more than lavish last time they attended. It had been a black market auction of alien technology, attended by a huge group of wealthy collectors. The man running the event had escaped the last time but this time Jack was sure he was going to catch him. He couldn’t let it continue and those working for the host had become bolder and more aggressive over the years. Especially towards Torchwood. Just before the last event he’d been essentially mugged for an item, and he never liked reviving in a damp aliway. There was always a chance of waking up to a rat gnawing on your fingers.

Elise picked up a small box that had fallen from one of the storage cases she’d been helping to move, blowing the dust away from the surface. Tarot cards. All the items she’d been moving were very old and completely safe, they’d just been there so long it would be a pain to sort them. Plus sometimes they came in handy.

“You’re already finished?” Ianto asked, arriving in the archive room.

“Oh, hi. Yea, all done.”

“What did you find?”

“Old tarot cards. Every played with these?”

“Not that deck but I had a friend who was into that kind of thing once. You?”

“I have no psychic skill whatsoever. I like the art though.”

“You can keep them if you want. None of this is particularly important so better you have them than leave them to collect more dust.”

“Thanks. Hey, I was wondering. I know when an agent passes they don’t usually get buried, but what happens to their things?”

“Storage usually. General items get sold or disposed of, anything that was important to them gets put into storage and clothing gets stored for a time just in case anything was left in the pockets. Apparently around fifty years ago an agent left an object in his coat. The coat got sold off and the next owner ended up with their brain trapped in a feedback loop.”

“Lovely. No wonder this place can get so cluttered. No offence.”

“None taken. Any part of this place I’ve had control of is in perfect order. I can’t say the same for my predecessors.”

“Are there any interesting pieces stored?”

“I wish there were. For now it’s pretty dull.”

“Aww, shame. If we’re all done here want to go play with these until we’re needed?”

Gwen slumped down into her chair.

“Rough morning?” Asked Tosh sympathetically.

“I didn’t even know what to say to her. Her husband’s gone and she’s a stay at home mum.”

“Poor thing.”

“How’s your morning going?”

“I found a couple of things but Jack wanted to look them over before we go ahead with anything else.”

“Fun. How’s the house search going?”

“We found a place we like. We’ve just got to get the lock modifications approved. It should take too long.”

“Just ask if you need a hand moving boxes or anything.”

“Thanks.” She looked over at Elise and Ianto, sitting playing with the tarot cards. “It’s funny, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Ianto that relaxed or happy.”

“I suppose they’ve spent a lot of time together. I wonder what it was like here is her timeline.”

“From what she’s told me it was depressing… And gone by now.”

“Gone?”

“Only you and Jack left. Even then with the hub gone things weren’t as they should have been.”

“What does it take to give up your entire life for people you’ve never met.”

“Isn’t that what we do every day?”

“I honestly hadn’t looked at it that way.”

“It looks like our gracious host has returned and plans to throw another auction and we all know what that means.” Announced Jack, a little more enthusiastically than he probably should have. Owen sighed, looking exasperated.

Elise and Gwen looked over at each other, confused. Gwen was the first to speak up. “This feels like something I missed.”

“It’s some jumped up rich arsehole that collects alien junk and auctions it off at a posh do for other rich nobs.” Owen grumbled.

“So we stop it before it happens?”

“Not exactly. They’re careful and have the cash to keep themselves off our radar so we have to infiltrate the party. That means…”

Tosh giggled. “Owen in a suit.”

“Oh fuck off.” He groaned. “It was bad enough last time. And now we have to make sure none of us go out alone because they get stabby when you tell them no.”

“What are they, the mob?” Elise asked.

Jack shrugged. “Close enough. Last time we managed to confiscate everything from the back of the auction room before they could sell them all off. I’m thinking of spiking the wine this year. They all do the opening toast, everyone claps, everyone passes out. The host won’t escape this time.”

Owen smirked, coming out of his strop. “Taking it personally Harkness?”

“He was in my grasp and one of his servants tazed me. It won’t happen again.”

Elise paused. “And they let you just walk in?”

“It’s a masquerade ball, no one knows who anyone is.”

“Won’t they be expecting us?”

“They always do. While I’m thinking about it. Ianto, I need you to send out a warning message to all of our refugee status citizens. Last time we had some of our hosts workers scoping them out.”

Ianto nodded.

“Refugee status?” Elise asked.

“If there’s no way for a being to get back to their planet or if they don’t have a planet to go back to they can sometimes be granted refugee status on Earth. They’re relocated into a Torchwood safehouse and essentially have to stay out of sight unless they can pass for human. It’s very rare but it does happen.” Ianto explained, noting down what he needed to do and finding the address list.

“How did I not know about this? That’s brilliant.”

“You should have seen my face when I found out. It would have helped my first impressions of the job if I had.” Gwen smiled nostalgically.

Owen crossed his arms. “You don’t get to know the good stuff until you deal with the shit the rest of us had to first.”

Sergeant Farrell stood at the scene of a burglary. The stately home had been ransacked. The owner had died only a week before of complications involved with his heart, leaving the place with no owner. The house had sat still full while the late gentlemens lawyers were sorting out who his estate would go to. It was a huge scene and though the sergeant didn’t need to be there he suspected it was just the type of scene this Torchwood institute would be involved with. Sadly they had not made an appearance yet but it didn’t change the fact that he was there so he just went back to doing his job. Something at the far side of the room caught his attention. It seemed to be some kind of gemstone, perfectly spherical, with a liquid suspended inside. The light shining through it looked blue at first but the closer he got the more purple it seemed to be. He shouldn’t touch it, he knew that, but it didn’t stop him wrapping his fingers around it. He couldn’t help it. It felt like it belonged with him. As if it had been waiting for him. No. He put it back on its small pedestal and turned to walk away but found his feet didn’t want to move. No, he couldn’t leave it for just anyone to manhandle. He gently picked it up and slid it into his pocket, feeling warm and safe. Yes, it was his. It had always been his. For a moment he couldn’t remember what he had been doing there but seeing the police car from the window seemed to clear his thoughts. A burglary, that’s what he was attending. He didn’t need to be there and couldn’t quite remember why he’d come along. It didn’t matter. He needed to get home where it was safe.

Elise patted Janets head gently and handed her a chunk of raw beef as a treat. The weevil took it and retreated to the corner to chew on it. Owen had sent Elise to give the implant to Janet as she was the only one who could just walk in there and do it without sedating or pinning down the creature. It had gone smoothly. Most weevils cowered in Elises presence but Janet had reached a point where she could be content with just bowing. Still, no one knew exactly why they did that but for now it was at least helpful.

“If only everything was as easy as this, eh? Maybe I can teach you to fetch things some time.”

She looked back to see Janet holding out a glove Elise had dropped.

“Did… Did you understand me?”

The weevil tilted her head. Elise took the other glove and gently tossed it to the corner.

“Can you fetch that for me?”

Janet looked back at the glove before retrieving it.

“Good girl.”

Janet let out a trill like noise and slowly blinked.

“Huh… Sit down.”

Janet sat on the floor and trilled again awaiting another request.

“Is it just you that listens to me or will the others listen too? What am I doing, it’s not like you can answer me even if you understand.”

She nodded then bowed, her head almost to the floor.

“All of them?”

She nodded again.

“Ok. Let me go and test it ok? You did really well. Here.” Elise handed Janet the other cube of meat she’d been keeping hold of for when she left. She left and closed the door behind her before heading back up.

“Hey, guys? Does Janet ever listen to you or do what you say?” She asked.

There was a low murmur as everyone shook their heads.

Jack decided to get more information. “Why?”

“I was just down there giving her the implant to test and she was listening. Like I was practically playing fetch with her. I thought it was a fluke but I told her to sit and she did. Then I asked her if the other weevils would listen too and she nodded. There was actual  recognition there. Look on the camera for yourself. It was surreal.”

Owen wandered over and pressed the back of his hand to her forehead. “No fever, so you’re not delirious.”

Elise brushed his hand away. “I’m serious.”

“Owen she’s not joking, look at this.” Tosh said, waving him over to see what was on her screen. Jack marched over to join them and see, even turning up the sound so everyone could hear. It seemed to confirm exactly what Elise said. There was recognition of her words. Not just a vague link between a word and an action like telling a dog to fetch a stick, actual sentient recognition. They’d never seen that in a weevil before. They were base creatures, vicious and relatively untamable.

“Do we have any other captive weevils right now?” Jack asked.

“Not since Elise has been shooing them off.” Owen shrugged. “Not sure where the nearest nest is anymore. We cleared the last one out completely.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever actually wanted a weevil to turn up before but here we are.”

Sergeant Farrell locked his front door and closed the curtains, taking the gem from his pocket. The light it gave out was a lavender colour that shimmered and shone, illuminating the room. He sat in the living room, ignoring the phone ringing. It was most likely his wife who still lived in their old home. She called every night after work and he always looked forward to hearing her voice but he couldn’t drag himself away from the light. It was too beautiful. Too warm. He had to eat. Yes. The grumbling in his stomach distracted him momentarily. It could wait, he had to keep looking at the light. What if it changed? He couldn’t miss that. The light from under the curtain seemed to dull the stone to almost nothing. What time was it? Six? It was morning already? He couldn’t remember if he’d slept or not but he had to go to work. He walked unsteadily on legs that had gone quite numb past the phone, seeing a red number four flashing on the tiny screen. He’d check his missed calls later.

Jack was not impressed that he’d heard of the burglary so late. Due to there being barely anything left the police hadn’t flagged it as strange. Not only that but the death had been registered extremely late. It was a perfect storm and now almost everything was gone. Thankfully there was a safe that the burglars hadn’t gotten into and Jack had one thing that the burglars had not. Tosh. She had plugged her laptop into the digital lock for the safe and only taken five minutes to get it open. Inside the safe sat a full casing from a dalek that had made Jack jump and rattled him more than he’d like to admit. He made the excuse of seeing what was taking Gwen so long with the officers outside just to pull himself together. When he reached the door he saw one of the officers that had been posted at the entrance almost shrinking next to their superior. Said superior looked like he hadn’t slept in some time and it was hard to tell if he was glaring or just trying to keep his eyes open. Gwen looked like she was definitely glaring.

“Is there a problem officers?” He asked as he strode out towards them.

Gwen turned and smiled softly at the offer of backup. “Jack, this is Sergeant Farrell.”

“Ah yes, I’ve been told a few things about you from my staff.”

“You’re the one in charge of this outfit are you? Well you can tell all of your minions to vacate the premises. I will not have my scene contaminated by people who think they’re above the law.”

“Not above, outside the law. I thought you were informed of our status last time you tried to hinder our investigation.” Jack pulled himself to his full height, his stance as solid as possible.

“I don’t care how you put it, no one is outside of the law. You might have paid off or blackmailed everyone else but I won’t be corrupted.”

The captain laughed. “If I tried to intimidate or pay off every lawmaker in the country I’d never have time to do my job. Anyway, I prefer charm to intimidation. I can see you don’t follow the same ideology. Now, why don’t you stop wasting both my time and yours and go.”

“This isn’t over.”

“I think you’ll find it is. Unless you want me to make a few calls.”

“Was that a threat?”

“I don’t make threats, I make promises.”

“Holy fuck!” Gasped Ianto, clipboard in hand to note down the inventory from the house. He’d snapped the pencil he’d been holding in half when he’d seen the dalek casing.

“It’s dead and hollowed out. It’s even been decontaminated at some point.” Said Tosh, pointing to a tag hanging from its eye stalk. “Are you alright?”

“You’ve clearly never faced one of these things.”

“Thankfully no. I thought it looked like an upside down bin.”

“Maybe when they’re dead. They’re a nightmare alive… I’m going to have to archive this thing. Maybe I can convince Jack to have it deconstructed.”

“I don’t think that would be too difficult. He looked rather spooked when he saw it too. You can bond over shared trauma.”

“I don’t think that’s necessary somehow. I hope the other items in here aren’t as terrifying.”

“I’m sure they’re all horrific in their own unique ways.”

“Owen’s sense of humor is rubbing off on you.”

“Sorry, I think it’s contagious. Did you see the skull?”

“Skull?”

“Middle shelf, on your left.”

Ianto turned his head and looked into the hollow sockets of a weevils skull. “At least it isn’t a whole weevil. Why’s it in the safe?”

“No idea. Maybe he was trying to get hold of the other parts of the skeleton and didn’t want to display it until he did.”

“This is starting to feel more like a tomb than a safe. Nice chunk of moldavite in here at least. I’m sure someone’s going to want that.”

“I always prefered a quartz.”

“A good Earth woman. None of this meteor glass nonsense.”

Tosh chuckled. “Well, you have to support your home planet.”

“Well, he was charming.” Jack said dryly as he closed the front door behind him.

Gwen sighed.“Oh yea. Absolutely lovely.”  

“It could be worse. You could be working with him.”

“Just don’t. I think I would have quit. Did Tosh get the safe open?”

“Yea. You’ll have to take a look in there for yourself. The contents were a shock I didn’t need this morning.” He stopped to look at one of the empty displays. The small gold plaque said it was a ‘deaths scythe’ that had been found in Afghanistan in the thirties, killing twelve of the archeologists that had been part of the dig that unearthed it. Next to it was a very small display that had once held a ‘sleeping stone’ that had to be kept a certain distance from any living being to prevent it latching onto them, lulling them into an almost comatose state and eventually killing them as they stop eating and drinking just to stay with the stone. The final display was more than large enough to hold a suit of armor. The plaque said it had contained a ‘complete cyberman’. Jack shuddered at the idea.

“Do you think this was linked to the auction?”

“I’m pretty certain it was. The funds you’d need just to move all of this in one night point right to our host.”

“Does this host have a name?”

“Not that we know of. His whole family have spent decades carefully defending their anonymity.”        

    Owen rolled his eyes thinking there was no chance this weevil whispering thing would work. The building he stood in had been bought and squatters had been evicted but the owner had not counted on weevils moving in. He wasn’t sure what way they were getting in but it was hard to mistake that smell for anything else. Janet was pretty calm for a weevil and he’d managed to at least get her not to instantly try and attack him so he didn’t expect a wild weevil to be nearly as calm.

“Looks like they’ve gone.” He said, watching Elise look around.

“Shhhh. I can hear one.”

“Well then just call it out like a dog if you think it’ll work.”

“Fine.” She turned down the hallway where she’d heard the movement. “Excuse me.”

“Do they react better to you being polite?”

“Oh hush… If you can hear me I want you to come out and show yourself.”

For a moment there was nothing, but then a young male weevil loped out, it’s head down. It wasn’t one they’d caught before as it wasn’t dressed in the usual blue overalls that the captured ones were given.

Owen studied it. “He’s definitely scared of you.”

“It’s ok little guy. Can you understand me?”

It nodded slowly.

“Can you understand him?” She pointed at Owen as the weevil looked up. It tilted its head and huffed then turned its attention back to Elise. “I guess not. Ok… What do I call you… Urm… Steeve. Ok Steeve. You tell all of your friends, family, whatever that they can’t stay in the city. No attacking people. Understand?”

Steeve the nodded slowly.

“Ok, off you go then.”

It plodded off again, disappearing down into what was likely a basement.

“You called it Steeve?” Asked Owen.

“What would you have called him?”

“That’s the difference, I wouldn’t have named it.”

“Like hell you wouldn’t have… So, being as we’re done here you can tell me what the last party was like.”

“Party?”

“The masquerade auction thing.”

“I’ll tell you about it on the drive back, this place stinks.”

“Dogon fourth and fifth eyes. Two sonic screwdrivers because why have only one. Six pages of psychic paper. One Sycorax helmet. One Vashta nerada farm. One Hath respirator. Two Judoon horns. One pair of Menoptra wings. Two Ogron stun guns. Six gemstones of unknown origin. One feline skull of unknown species. Three unidentified items of alien design. Four unidentified items made from materials found on Earth. One decommissioned Dalek. One weevil skull. One six by six inch piece of moldavite. Three bags of mixed currency of unknown origin. Have I missed anything?” Ianto asked, double checking his list.

“I think that’s everything in here. Where’s your PDA?” Tosh folded her laptop and wrapped one of the cables over her arm.

“It won’t work inside the safe. It won’t take me a minute to write it up afterwards. Have you seen Jack?”

“He popped by but he’s doing a final sweep of the house in case anything was missed. Apparently he had to deal with the police outside.”

“The officer Gwen told us about?”

“Yep.”

“I looked him up but he’s as squeaky clean as someone can be. Not even a parking ticket to his name.”

“That’s to be expected with his position. It’s not as if we can simply retcon him like we used to.”

“Well, we could but it wouldn’t have too much of an effect. I’ll see what I can do about contacting his superiors later.”

“Shouldn’t you hand that off to Gwen?”

“Gwen’s the good cop.”

“And you’re the bad cop? You?”

“On paper I’m terrifying.” Ianto smiled.

With all of the items collected and stored safely away the team were free to try and get ahead of this group. Even with all the money in the world there had to be a paper trail. Especially when organising a large event. The more expensive an order the more details a company will want just in case they aren’t paid and that was good news for Toshiko. The last time she had tried to track them they were mostly still using cash but this time he seemed to have joined the twenty first century and started using multiple offshore accounts. They were all under different names but that wasn’t going to be an issue. It never was.

“Got him.” Tosh smiled to herself. Steven Oliver Fayfall the third, the current head of a very old and prestigious family. He owned many buildings around the country so it wasn’t clear where his usual residence was. It was a start. She found a few photos from throughout time and could recognise the family but there was always another figure. A pale female, around her teens with long curled hair. Her face was blemish free, like she was wearing a mask. Her face wasn’t flagged on the system to be any being they’d met before. She sent the images over to Jack, wondering if he’d met her in his long life. In the meantime she could start thinking about the theme. Tarot. Each guest had to be dressed as one of the major arcana.

Elise leaned on the back of Toshiko’s chair.

“What you up to?” She asked.

“I found the theme for the party, plus the full dress code.”

“Nice. Who’s going?”

“Last time it was all of us. It’s a huge operation and we never really know what we’re walking in to.”

“Think they’ll let me wear a suit?”

Tosh laughed softly. “Sorry. The dress code is gender specific. It’s a floor length dress and heels for you.”

“Heels? Um… I can’t walk in heels.” Elise stood back.

“You’ll be fine. We probably won’t be doing any running.”

“No. I don’t mean I can’t run in heels I can’t walk in heels. I can barely stand in them.”

Tosh turned to her. “Really?”

“Seriously. I look like a baby giraffe. Also, if there’s dancing I can’t dance.”

“Of course you can. You just need a couple of lessons.”

“For the heels or the dancing?”

“Both. I can teach you to walk in heels. You might be lucky, me and Owen usually hold up the wall at these things. And if all else fails we could ask Ianto to teach you.”

“I’m going to fall on my face I just know it.”

“Let’s see how awful you are.” She took Elises hand. “Jack, I’ve send you a few things to look over including the theme of the party. High heels are mandatory for the ladies so I’m going to teach Elise how to not fall over in them.”

“I’ve been informed I’m not allowed to wear a suit.” Elise pouted.

Jack nodded in recognition. “They’re very old fashioned, a little over obsessed with gender norms. At least until everyone gets drunk.”

“I’m hoping we don’t have a repeat of that this time.” Tosh sighed.

“That? What happened?” Asked Elise, looking between them.   

“We were doing a last sweep before we left and behind one of the doors there was an orgy going on.”

Jack crossed his arms. “And they didn’t even invite me.”

[ladywinchester1967]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Grace Drake

Characters: Dean Winchester, Grace Drake (OFC), Kenneth Drake (Grace’s husband), Lula and Sissy (Grace and Kenneth’s hired help), Sam Winchester*, William (Kenneth’s business partner)*

*= mentioned

Warnings: Cheating, SMUT, drinking, smoking, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), mentions of alcoholism, mentions of homosexuality, language, mentions of World War II (nothing too graphic).

A/N: This is the start of a BRAND NEW series; so the tag list for this is wide open. Takes place post-World War II (think late 40′s, going into early 1950′s) so I tried to use some of the slang and language that would have been used in that time period. Each part has themes from the song by Switchfoot of the same name (which I’ve ALWAYS wanted to use in a story!). Per usual; unbeta’d, all mistakes are mine, but the pictures are NOT. I found them on Pinterest and tumblr.

Welcome to the Planet

Welcome to existence

Everyone's here

Everyone's here

Everybody's watching you now

Everybody waits for you now

What happens next?

What happens next?

She shifted and the cold light of day invaded her closed eyelids.

“Mhhhh.” She grunted and opened them up.

She was naked, save for the sheet and the arm that was currently wrapped around her body. She rolled over and saw a pair of shining green eyes and a wide smile looking back at her.

“Morning beautiful.” He said

“No way I look beautiful right now.” She said as she reached out and touched his face.

“You always look beautiful Gracie.” He said and kissed her.

“Mh, I love it when you call me that.” She said sleepily and opened her mouth for another kiss.

He rolled, putting her on her back and making her giggle. He kissed down her neck and to her collar bone and then back up to her ear.

“My sweet,” kiss “sweet,” kiss “Gracie Lou.”

“Deeeeeean!” She whined slapping his bare shoulders and making him laugh.

“You’re gonna have to hit harder than that if you wanna throw me off doll face.” He said, pinning her hands on either side of her head by the wrists.

“Mhhhh, can’t get rid of you easily can I?” She teased as they kissed. She opened her legs and his hardened length ran up her inner thigh as she gasped.

“Nope.” He said as he pushed inside her waiting core. He kissed her again as he buried himself inside of her.

“Dean,” she sighed against his mouth, her nails pressing into his shoulders “Dean, you feel so good inside me.”

“Gracie.” he sighed back as he raked his hands through her hair, wrapping her up into his arms as he pushed into her. She wrapped her legs around him, her heels digging into the backs of his thighs. He thrust up into her, hitting her sweet spot, making her back arch and her nails dig harder into his shoulders. He took his time, slowly thrusting in and out of her, kissing every inch of her body that his mouth could reach until she was a whining mess under him.

“Dean, please!” She begged “Please!”

“What?” He asked playfully “Tell me sweetheart.”

“I wanna come,” she whined, raking her nails down his back “please, please let me come Dean!”

He growled and pushed hard into her, making her cry out. She writhed under him, he seemed to be hitting every nerve in her body until she screamed and came hard. Her clenching around him was exactly what he needed to send him over the edge. With a loud cry, he emptied his load into her, his hips stilling as he supported his weight on his knees and forearms. He gave her one last kiss before rolling off of her, both of them breathing hard. After a few minutes of blissful silence, she rolled to her side and kissed his cheek.

“What time is it?” She asked, rubbing the tip of her nose against his cheek.

Dean checked his watch.

“Ten thirty.” He said

“What?!” She asked

“It’s ten thirty.” He said and showed her the face of his watch.

“FUCK!” She exclaimed and darted out of bed.

“What’s wrong?!” He asked

“I’m supposed to be at bridge club in an hour! Fuck!” She yelled as she gathered her clothes and threw them on.

“Shit!” Dean yelled and got out of bed to help her, tugging on his underwear. She threw on her bra and panties, foregoing her pantyhose for now, and stuffed them into her bag along with her gloves.

“God damn it,” she said “I can’t believe I over slept. Where’s my dress?!”

“Right here.” He said and held it up with two fingers.

“Thank you!” She said gratefully as she stepped into it.

“You sure YOU weren’t the one in the Army with that foul mouth?” He teased

“Father was a Sergeant Major in the Marine Corps remember?” She asked as she pulled the sleeves of her dress up and he flashed recognition across is face.

“Ah, now I remember.” He said

“Zip me please?” She asked and turned her back to him. He did as she requested and planted a kiss between her shoulder blades.

“I’m so sorry,” she said “I’m running around here like a chicken with my head cut off. I'm gonna be late and those bitches will rip me to shreds!”

“It’s okay,” He said as she grabbed her shoes and buckled them “go play bridge and gossip, I’ll talk to you tonight.”

She pinned her hair back as best as she could and gave him a quick kiss.

“You’re the best you know?” She asked him

“Stop flattering me or I won’t let you leave.” He said and wrapped her in a breath stealing kiss. She moaned against his lips.

“I have to go,” she whined between kisses “Lula and Sissy are gonna have a fit when they see me.”

Dean laughed

“Go before Lula threatens to hunt me down. Again.” He teased and opened the door for her, watching as she blew him a kiss over her shoulder and took off down the stairs.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this, Grace thought as she caught the bus back to her house, pretending that she wasn’t wearing the clothes she’d worn the night before. She was supposed to hit the road with her high school sweetheart, Dean Winchester, and drive until they reached the Pacific Ocean. They would set up a dual building where he could practice medicine and she could paint, sketch and teach art classes. That’s what they’d always talked about.

That was before Dean got drafted into World War II. He’d been ripped away from her in the blink of an eye while she helped the local Red Cross with the war effort.

When the dust finally settled, Dean’s brother; Sam, showed her the telegram that bore the sad news. Dean was MIA and believed to be dead. It was a hero’s death, her father had mused. She mourned, for years she mourned for the boy she had loved. The one that listened when she talked, that always told her that her dreams of being a writer and artist weren’t stupid or misguided. The boy who away made her feel pretty, the one who always showered her with love and attention, who understood that she didn’t want to be defined by her marital status or that expected her to pop out as many babies as she could.

The girl she was died along with him, after that, she found it easier to just do as she was told. She dated the boys her parents set her up with. Even accepted the proposal of the man her parents deemed “a good match” for her. Kenneth Drake worked successfully in advertising, he made good money and was nice enough. He didn’t seem too happy when she voiced her opinions on social matters or offered her view on the current ads he was trying to run.

“Darling,” he had said and patted her on the back of the hand “I know you have a lot to say, but women are meant to be seen, not heard.”

She had sighed and resigned to the fact that she was supposed to be decoration. She was supposed to smile, look good when she met the boss and have dinner on the table by five thirty sharp.

That perfect illusion was shattered when Kenneth was admitted to the hospital two years after they were married. She got the call in the middle of the night and rushed to the hospital to be with him.

“Please,” she pleaded with the nurse “I’m looking for Kenneth Drake, he’s my husband!”

“Gracie?” She heard a familiar voice ask. The voice send chills down her spine, only one person on the planet called her Gracie and that person had died years ago. She slowly turned and saw him.

His hair was darker than she remembered, but his eyes, oh lord in heaven, those emerald green eyes. Their striking color hadn’t changed at all. He wore a crisp white lab coat with dark slacks and shoes, across his chest was the name

Dr. D Winchester

“Dean?” She asked

He looked like he had seen a ghost, his face went ashen, his full lips dropped open into a surprise O shape. He briefly shook his head and said to the nurse

“Betty, she’s okay. Let her through.”

The nurse, Betty, nodded and stepped aside as Grace rushed over to Dean.

“Kenneth Drake is your husband?” Dean asked, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. She nodded, a dark curl falling into her eyes.

“Yes, they said they found him in bad shape outside this bar,” she said obviously upset “please Dean, can you tell me anything?”

Dean paused for a second and then nodded

“Have a seat,” he said gently and directed her to a nearby chair “I’ll check it out.”

“Thank you,” She said “thank you so much.”

He gave her a small smile and took off down the hallway.

After some time, Dean returned and sat by her.

“Kenneth suffered a concussion,” he told her “he hit his head on the cement after he collapsed due to alcohol poisoning. They pumped his stomach and gave him some fluids, he’s gonna have a nasty headache and a hell of a hangover, but he’ll be fine.”

She let out a sigh of relief and hugged him.

“Thank you,” She told him, inhaling his familiar scent “Thank you so much Dean.”

He reluctantly wrapped his arms around her, the familiar feel of her hair under his hand filling the dull ache in his chest that he’d learned to live with.

The next day she’d returned to the hospital to check on Kenneth. She headed up to the roof to get some air and found Dean, sitting on a bench. He wore sunglasses and had a lit cigarette in his hand.

“I thought you would be up here.” She called to him.

He turned, startled, but his expression softened when he saw her.

“Gracie!” He called

That was how it started; they’d rekindled their friendship like they’d never been apart. One night, she met Dean for a drink, which turned into multiple drinks, and the truth came out.

“You couldn’t wait for me?” He asked, his eyes glassy.

“Sam told me you were dead Dean, he showed me the telegram.” Grace said, taking a puff from the cigarette she stole from him.

“The Army thought I was dead,” he told her “my unit got captured by the Italians and they kept us as prisoners of war. Then the Allies liberated us and brought us home. Imagine the shock on my mother’s face when I turned up.”

“Why didn’t you?” She asked and trailed off.

“Come looking for you?” He asked and she nodded “I did, your father told me he’d put a bullet in me like the Italians, Germans and Japanese had failed to do if I ever came near you again.”

Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open in shock as she handed back the cigarette to him.

“My God,” she said “my father, always the wordsmith.”

Dean smirked and snubbed out the cigarette.

“So Kenneth seems nice, albeit a raging alcoholic.” Dean said

She shook her head

“He’s docile,” she said “he makes good money, he works hard, he’s nice enough. I guess.”

“But?” Dean asked, downing the last of his drink and asking for another.

She rolled her eyes and took a sip of her drink.

“My husband,” she trailed off and chose her words carefully “bats for the other team.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up

“Kenneth wears sensible shoes?” Dean asked and she nodded “Sure do know how to pick ‘em Gracie Lou.”

She slapped his arm playfully

“MY PARENTS picked him,” she said “I had no say in the matter.”

“So, where is he now?” Dean asked

She pursed her lips and thought

“At a late meeting,” she said and downed the rest of her drink “with his business partner William.”

“Does he often have late meetings with William?” Dean asked and she nodded.

“Nearly every night,” she said “he comes home for dinner and then leaves at exactly seven thirty.”

“When does he come home?” Dean asked

“Whenever he damn well pleases,” she told him “he's the man of the house. His words, not mine.”

Dean shook his head as the waiter dropped off another round for them.

“I can tell you something?” She asked, leaning into Dean. Her blue eyes were sparkling like they always had, he could smell her perfume and the alcohol on her, which just made her all the more enchanting.

“Of course.” He said

Their eyes met and she bit her lower lip. Not only had their friendship rekindled, so had to sexual tension between them. The last time Grace had sex with a man was Kenneth on her birthday; and even then, it hadn't been anything worth writing home about.

“The last time I had a decent orgasm? Right before you went off to war.” she told him

His eyes went wide

“You’re kidding right?” He asked and she shook her head.

“This is much too serious for me to joke about.” She told him.

Dean reached in his pocket, pulled out his wallet and said

“We’re fixing that. Now.”

“What?!” She asked shocked as he threw some money on the table and grabbed her hand.

“Either I just left a VERY generous tip or a dry cleaning receipt, let’s hurry in case it’s the receipt.” He murmured in her ear and she laughed.

Dean always had the ability to make her laugh, even when she didn’t want to.

He took her to his apartment and as soon as the door was shut behind them he said

“You have to tell me this is okay Gracie, I need to hear you say it.”

It was nice to see all those years away hadn’t changed that part of him. He’s said something similar when she’d lost her virginity to him what seemed like a lifetime ago. She put her purse down and stepped closer to him. Standing in front of her wasn’t the boy she’d fallen in love with. He was a grown and jaded man, but he still had all the love and compassion in him that she’d always cherished about him. She nodded and said

“I want this Dean,” as she reached for him “I want you. Make love to me, please.”

That night had been full of passion and romance unlike anything she’d experienced since she’d slept with him previously. He remembered every place to touch and kiss her that made her toes curl and drawing sounds out of her she wasn’t sure she was capable of making any more.

The next morning her eyes fluttered open and she found Dean asleep beside her.

“Oh thank god.” She said quietly “that wasn’t an elaborate dream.”

She heard Dean chuckle as he opened his eyes.

“Are you okay?” He asked, pushing her hair out of her face. She nodded

“I should feel guilty,” she told him “I should feel ashamed and disgusted.”

“Do you?” He asked, hesitation in his voice.

She smiled and shook her head

“No,” she said “I don’t.”

That was more than a year ago, Grace thought as the bus pulled up at a stop near her house. Since then, she and Dean has carried on discreetly, just as she knew Kenneth and William were. Neither of them mentioned the other’s fling and they kept up appearances. She was there to greet the boss at work functions and host dinners in their home. Though now she did it with a bit more pep in her step.

She rushed into the house, busting through the kitchen door like a bat out of hell and startling both Lula and Sissy, the ladies that helped her in her home.

“Mrs. Grace you look like something that got caught in a drain!” Lula exclaimed and Grace laughed.

“I do look a bit silly don’t I?” Grace asked “Lula, could you make me some coffee while I freshen up?”

“Yes ma’am,” Lula said and nodded to Sissy “help Mrs. Grace outta those clothes so I can get ‘em washed.”

“Yes Lula.” Sissy said and followed Grace up the stairs.

Sissy was Lula’s niece and needed work, Lula had been helping out her family for as long as she could remember and when she started to get on in years, Lula asked tearfully if Grace could help out her niece. Grace’s heart went out to Lula.

“Lula, you know you’re family to us and if your family needs help, this is the least I can do.” Grace had told her and covered Lula’s dark hand with her own pale one “How about this? You bring Sissy on and teach her how you do things? That way when you’re ready to leave, Sissy can take over.”

“You do that for me Mrs. Grace?” Lula asked, her brown eyes wide with shock.

“Lula, if she is anywhere close to as amazing as you are, we’d be happy to have her on.”

Sissy was terribly shy at first, she didn’t even look Grace or Kenneth in the eye for the first few months she worked for them. Slowly though, she’d come around and was a delight to be around.

“Tell Lula I’m sorry this smells like cigarettes.” Grace told Sissy as she turned her back. Sissy unzipped her dress and asked

“Doctor Winchester again?”

Grace gave Sissy a sly smile and Sissy returned it. She threw the evening dress over her arm and Grace headed for the bathroom.

“Sissy, could you find me something to wear for today?” Grace asked

“What do you want to wear Mrs. Grace?” Sissy asked.

Grace shrugged

“Surprise me, I always get compliments on the clothes you pick out.” Grace said and went into the bathroom.

After a shower, pinning her hair up and donning a floral dress, peach sandals, a strand of pearls and matching earrings, Grace did her makeup. Just a little bit of mascara, blush and lipstick to bring out her features. She looked in the mirror and realized Dean had left a hickey on her neck.

“Asshole!” She mumbled to herself and set to work trying to cover it up.

When she was ready, she went down into the kitchen and took a cup of coffee that Lula had waiting for her.

“Did Kenneth come home at all?” Grace asked Lula.

“He was here this morning for breakfast,” Lula said “which you missed.”

Grace hung her head, Lula chastising her wasn’t anything new.

“Sorry Lula.” Grace said and sipped her coffee before shoving a pancake in her mouth.

“MRS. GRACE!” Lula shouted “You eat like your Momma taught you some manners!”

Grace laughed and so did Sissy. “You hush over there and make sure that mantel is dusted.” Lula said to Sissy, who scampered away.

“Did Kenneth tell you where he was going?” Grace asked.

“Playing golf with William,” Lula said as she arranged the tarts on a serving plate just so “said he’d be gone until dinner was ready.”

“That’ll give me plenty of time to get dinner ready,” Grace said “meatloaf and potatoes?”

Lula nodded

“Mister Kenneth likes that.” She said with a grin.

“I'm late, I have to go. I'll see you two when I get home.”

When she arrived, fifteen minutes late, Sue, the hostess for this meeting was not pleased at all.

“Not like you to be late Grace.” She said as Grace stepped through the door.

“I'm so sorry Sue,” Grade said and handed her a bottle of her favorite wine “I lost track of time.”

In spite of her distraction, the rest of the bridge game went off without a hitch.

“Grace, are you wearing a new lipstick or something?” Mary Anne asked as she dealt out another hand.

“No, it’s the same as always, why do you ask?” Grace inquired.

“You seem so,” Mary Anne trailed off “different some how.”

“Glowing almost.” Catherine commented as she took a puff from her cigarette.

“I bet I KNOW what it is.” Louise said, adjusting her glasses “Kenneth DID just get home from a long business trip.”

Grace’s cheeks flushed and the ladies started to giggle.

“Oh, now that makes sense!” Mary Anne said with a grin.

Grace tucked her hair behind her ear and smiled.

“A lady doesn’t kiss and tell.” She said simply and went on playing.

After bridge, Grace made dinner. She made extra so that Sissy and Lula could have some as a thank you for their hard work. Kenneth strolled through the door at precisely five thirty, still wearing his golfing gear.

“Darling,” he greeted Grace with a hug “how were the ladies today?”

“Like hens in a hen house,” she told Kenneth “meatloaf and mashed potatoes tonight. Do you want brandy or whiskey?”

“Whiskey please, my sweet?” He asked, giving her a peck on the cheek.

They ate dinner, chatting about their respective days. Kenneth hadn’t done so well on the golf course and had lost a few dollars to William and their other partner, Jim.

“You’ll get them next week,” Grace said “I’m sure of it.”

Kenneth gave her a smile and took a sip of his drink, his eyes still on her. She looked back at him; he was indeed handsome. He had forget- me-not blue eyes, lush dark hair and a slight boyish grin on his face.

“Grace?” He asked

“Hm?” She answered as she took a sip of her wine.

“When are we going to talk about it?” He asked.

“Talk about what?” She shot back.

“What you’re doing.” He said

She blinked at she stared at him

“Eating my dinner?” She asked.

He shook his head and raked a hand through his hair.

“No, and don’t talk to me like I’m an idiot.” He said

“Kenneth, I wouldn’t-“ she started but he interrupted

“I KNOW okay?” He asked sharply

“About what?!” She shot back, even though she knew exactly what he was getting at.

“You and that doctor!” Kenneth exploded “You’re fucking him behind my back!”

Even though it was true, and she had been for more than a year, she still decided to play dumb.

“What doctor? I’m not fucking-“ she started and he cut her off again.

“YES YOU ARE!” He yelled as he stood “Shirley, the butcher’s wife, saw you with a man that wasn’t me last night!”

Fuming, Grace said

“Kenneth, sit down and we can talk about this calmly.”

“THERE’S NOTHING CALM ABOUT WHAT I HAVE TO SAY!” Kenneth shouted at her “HOW COULD YOU?! HOW COULD YOU FUCKING DO THIS TO ME GRACE?!”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

SOOOOOO?! What do ya’ll think?? Are you excited to see where this goes? Because I’m excited to share it with ya’ll! 

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[queseraone]

Home: Chapter Eleven

Thank you so much for your kind words. I'm completely overwhelmed (and obviously thrilled) that so many of you are enjoying this tangled web I've woven! I apologize for being so slow to update, but life has been absolutely nuts (and unfortunately the crazy is just beginning, t-minus three weeks 'til baby!)!

Catch up here

Take this sinking boat and point it home We've still got time Raise your hopeful voice, you have a choice You've made it now

—Falling Slowly (Glen Hansard)

Jay excused himself and went back upstairs to the guest room. He pulled his cell phone out of his pants pocket and switched it on, bracing himself for what he would see when the screen lit up.

Aside from a couple of email notifications—a newsletter from his gym, an advertisement from a local health food store, a bank statement, a reminder to pay his water bill—there were no new messages. Just like the night before.

But unlike the night before, he shoved his nerves and uncertainty aside and did what he had been afraid to do then. With an unsteady hand, he opened his contact list and scrolled down to her name.

Erin.

And somehow he didn't hesitate for even a second before hitting the call button.

"We're sorry, you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service. If you feel you have reached this recording in error, please check the number and try your call again." A robotic voice quickly blared in Jay's ear, effectively bursting his bubble.

He wanted to throw up. Or burst into tears. Or scream. Instead, he whipped his phone across the room, not even flinching when it violently smashed against the wall, cracking the screen.

He felt like a complete idiot. Again. Still. As usual. She lived in another state and they hadn't spoken in four years, of course her old number didn't work. He just had never been able to bring himself to delete it.

Of course the reason for that had become painfully obvious over the last few days.

Jay stood frozen in place with his head in his hands as he tried to figure out his next move.

After a few minutes, he strode across the room and grabbed his now damaged cell phone up off of the floor. This time, he pulled up another number from his contacts. The line rang a few times before a familiar—albeit groggy—voice answered.

"Hello?"

Jay was quiet for a moment, trying to find the right words.

"Hello?" The voice called out again. "Jay is that you? Are you there?"

"Yeah, sorry. I'm here. I uh… I need your help."

"I know I said you could always talk to me but… um… Jay, we just got… y'know, we just got married last night… so… we're kind of… well… it's our—"

"Halstead! Fuck off dude, we're busy!" Ruzek's voice rang out from somewhere in the background.

Jay could feel the heat suddenly rushing to his cheeks at his foolishness. He felt like an idiot for what was probably the hundredth time already that day. Only he would be stupid enough to interrupt newlyweds the morning after their wedding. He felt even worse when he glanced at his watch and realized that it was somehow only nine o'clock in the morning.

"Adam!" Kim admonished as her voice became clearer again. Clearly she had snatched the phone back from her husband. "Hey Jay, you still there?"

"Yeah. But I'm going, I'm really sorry Kim. I don't know what I was thinking. I shouldn't have bothered you—"

"No Jay, it's fine. Really. What's wrong? You said you needed my help?"

"Erin… uh… we um… can you…"

Kim sighed on the other end of the line. "Spit it out Jay."

"I need to talk to her. I need to see her."

"I haven't actually heard from her since last night, but I know she was staying at Voight's place."

"Thanks Kim. And again, I'm really, really sorry for interrupting."

"Don't sweat it." Just picturing Kim's warm and reassuring smile on the other end of the line had Jay's lips pulling into a small smile of his own.

But that smile didn't stay on his face long once the realization had set in. Now he had to face Voight. That was just perfect.

*****

Jay Halstead and Hank Voight had always had a tumultuous relationship.

Voight's reputation was common knowledge within the department, so to a certain extent, Jay had known what he was getting himself into when he joined the Intelligence unit. The men had immediately clashed—their ways of handling criminals were as different as possible. And it certainly didn't help that Jay wasn't afraid to stand up to his boss, to put his money where his mouth was when it came down to it. Throw in the sparks flying between him and Erin, and Voight and Jay's relationship was doomed from day one.

After Nadia's death, they had formed an unspoken agreement when it came to Erin. Both men recognized how important she was to the other, and they had buried the hatchet in an effort to bring their girl back from the brink.

That was the turning point in their relationship, the foundation of a growing understanding and trust between the two. And as time wore on, they learned to work better together, developing a rhythm and playing off of one another. More and more, Voight recognized the value of having Jay in his unit, and thus started leaning on the younger detective as sort of a right-hand-man. Truth be told, they were actually more similar than either of them would ever be willing to admit; despite their wildly different approaches, both men were deeply concerned with getting justice for the victims they encountered, no matter the cost.

In the years since Erin had left Chicago, tensions had grown between Jay and Voight again. Jay blamed his boss for sending Erin away, and Voight grew frustrated watching Jay spiral out of control. The loss of the girl they both loved caused them to build up the wall between them all over again.

Things were tense for a long time, but somehow they had again managed to set aside their differences and work well as a team. Voight began to rely on Jay more than ever before—he'd deny it if anyone had asked, but Voight had quietly started grooming Jay to take over his unit one day.

But that was work. They no longer had anything in common in their personal lives, so it was all business between the two men.

And yet somehow Jay found himself standing cautiously on his boss' front porch, awkwardly shifting his weight from side to side as he rapped his fist on the door, expecting—hoping—to see Erin standing on the other side.

But when the door swung open a few seconds later, Jay was instead met by a stone faced Hank Voight.

"Halstead, what are you doing here?" The sergeant demanded, his voice gruff as he folded his arms across his chest.

There was a time when Voight would probably have greeted Jay at his front door with a raised shotgun. Especially if the detective showed up just hours after Voight had been comforting a sobbing Erin Lindsay.

But just like all those years ago, when Jay and Erin had first started sneaking around, it was impossible to hide the truth from Voight. Despite his questionable interrogation tactics and shady practices, there was a reason Hank Voight was tasked with leading Intelligence—he had an uncanny ability to read people, to see right through their facades. So the moment Jay looked up and made eye contact, Voight immediately recognized that he was struggling. Again.

He took a step aside and motioned his arms in a silent invitation to come in. Jay hesitated for a moment—as though gauging whether or not he was walking into a trap—before taking a few steps forward.

Voight closed the door behind the younger man and ushered him into the living room. Feeling uncomfortable in his boss' home, Jay sat awkwardly on the edge of the couch cushion, while Voight settled back into his recliner in the corner and clasped his hands together in his lap before speaking again.

"So Halstead, like I asked you before—what are you doing here?"

Jay quickly shot up from his seat and started pacing back and forth in front of the sofa, his hands moving from his pockets to the back of his neck and up to his hairline as he struggled to answer Voight's question.

"Halstead!"

"Sorry sir. I… um… is she…" He stopped and looked his boss right in the eye before continuing. "Is Erin here?"

"First you can explain to me why she came home crying in the middle of the night."

Jay brought his palms up to cover his face. The knowledge that their rendez-vous had left Erin in tears was like a sucker punch to his gut. He hated to think of her hurting in any way, let alone because of his actions. He wiped his sweaty palms on his thighs and immediately started pacing again.

"I asked you a question, I expect an answer." Voight demanded.

"Um… well… uh…" Jay rubbed the back of his neck, taking a moment to figure out how he could possibly explain what had happened to Voight. There was absolutely no way he could share the details with him. Jay would be leaving the house in an ambulance—or worse—if Voight knew the whole truth.

What was he supposed to say, Well sir, I hooked up with your daughter in a random hallway then ran off after my girlfriend when we got caught?

Voight would slaughter him.

"Halstead, sit the hell down and start talking."

Jay reluctantly sat back on the couch. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, burying his head in his hands while he took a few seconds to get his bearings.

Then he took a deep breath and more or less told Voight what had happened. He explained how he had been thinking about proposing to Allie. That his conversation with Will had left his head spinning, making him doubt his feelings for the first time in ages. How seeing Erin after four years had made him more confused than ever. And how he had unintentionally hurt her and could only hope to find a way to fix things.

When he had finished, Jay took a cautious glance in Voight's direction, misreading the older man's frown as frustration, as an expectation for him to say more. Jay's fingertips danced across his brow as his nerves were starting to catch up with him. "So uh… yeah… I know I screwed up… I know I ruined everything… I just… I have to talk to Erin. I need to talk to her."

"Well she's not here."

Jay's head jerked up as confusion washed over his face. "What do you mean? Kim… Kim said she was staying here with you?"

"She was, but she left." Voight answered simply, not one to mince his words.

"L-left? Where did she go?"

"She caught an early flight back to New York."

"New York?" Jay was shocked. He knew Erin was upset, but he didn't expect her to run away so quickly. "Why?"

Voight shrugged his shoulders far too casually for Jay's liking. "It sounds to me like you probably know more about that than I do."

"Can you… um… can you give me her number? Please?"

"I'm not sure that's for me to share. She left for a reason."

"Please? I need to talk to her. I have to fix this."

Voight sighed before reluctantly rising from his recliner to grab a slip of paper and a pen off the coffee table. He was silent as he scribbled across the page. "I swear Halstead, if you hurt her again, they'll never find your body."

"I won't. I love her. I'm… I'm in love with her."

*****

Erin's last minute flight had her landing at Laguardia in the early hours of the morning; the sun was just rising as she disembarked and headed to baggage claim to pick up her suitcase.

As Erin walked through the airport doors and flagged down a taxi, she was overwhelmed by a sense of peace—it actually surprised her a little. Sure, she had called New York City home for the last four years, but it had always felt like something had been missing. A part of her still longed for her old life in Chicago.

Turns out she just needed to go back to realize that she no longer belonged there.

Like the cab ride from Hank's house to O'Hare, the drive from Laguardia to her apartment was agonizingly slow. And to make matters worse, she had somehow managed to find the one New York cabbie that was actually interested in making small talk. One of the benefits of the red-eye flight was that it was silent—no pesky seatmates looking to make conversation, no screaming babies or wild children roaming the aisles. Hell, the flight was so short that the flight attendants didn't even come around.

The last thing that Erin was interested in doing was chatting with a complete stranger about politics and the weather and the score from last night's Knicks game. All she wanted to do was get back to her place, bury herself under the covers, and hibernate in her bedroom for the rest of her vacation time.

Erin managed a series of mmhmms and one word answers during the ride—enough to allow the driver to think she was actually somewhat interested in making conversation—but the moment the car came to a stop in front of her building, she hopped out as fast as her legs could carry her. She flashed the old man a smile, paid the fare (tipping even more generously than usual thanks to the guilt she felt for more or less ignoring him the entire trip), and quickly made her way into the sleek lobby.

One benefit of living in such a modern building was the sizable shop situated on the main level, an incredibly convenient spot to grab a few groceries or stock up on household necessities without having to cart bags all over the city. She filled a small shopping cart with a enough essentials to get her through the next few days without having to leave her apartment: a carton of milk, a box of her favourite sugary cereal, a couple of frozen pizzas, a six-pack of beer, and a pint—actually make that two—of mint chocolate chip ice cream.

Unfortunately for Erin, her streak of bad luck continued in the store. Even though it wasn't even ten o'clock on a Sunday morning, she was somehow met by a rather significant line at the checkout. She buried her nose in her cell phone while she waited, letting herself get lost in Twitter news and browsing Instagram.

Even though it had ended less than twelve hours earlier, Erin's feed was already littered with pictures from the wedding. She immediately regretted tapping the event's hashtag (#TooLateToSayNoBurgess) when her screen was filled with photos of happy couples dancing the night away.

One such couple? Jay and Allie.

Erin nearly dropped her phone on the floor she was so shaken by the photo. And yet for some reason she couldn't bring herself to look away.

Just like when she saw them from across the dancefloor the night before, the proof of their relationship was almost screaming at her. It was as though something somewhere wanted to shove their happiness in her face. Wrapped up in Jay's embrace, Allie was practically glowing, and Jay looked blissfully happy as smiled down at the woman in his arms. There was no denying it. It was right there in front of her—they were the picture of love.

Her eyes were burning with unshed tears as a multitude of emotions washed over her. Embarrassment, disgust, sadness, heartbreak, longing. She felt it all as she switched off her screen, squeezing her eyes shut to prevent the tears from falling. God knows she'd already cried enough over this.

Once she had finally paid for her items, Erin strode through the sleek lobby towards the elevator. When it stopped on her floor, she made a beeline down the hall, anxious for the sense of security that only her apartment could bring her. She cringed as her high heeled boots click-clacked against the marble tiles with every step—she was almost there, the last thing she needed was a nosy neighbour popping out and trying to strike up a conversation.

Erin's heart was absolutely racing as she slid her key into the lock. The moment she was safely inside, she leaned her head back against the closed door and let out a huge sigh of relief.

She made it. She had escaped Chicago. It was time to put the drama of the last few days behind her.

And then her phone started ringing.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12672910/11/Home

[khrow-shinku]

The Great War S12.5

D&D 5e Campaign

The Great War

Aravari’s Mysteries

Ara begins looking through the records. She finds out that her mother’s family was one of the founding families of the town along with a map of the town before it was destroyed. Ara keeps digging through the records and finds out her mothers birth year and her grandparents' names. Suddenly things didn’t add up. According to this her mother was born 85 years before Ara was born, almost 86. She had always told Ara that she was much much younger. She keeps digging a bit further and finds out her mother was actually married twice before being married to her father. “Why would my mother never tell me about any of this… she always talked as if dad was her first love, the first person she married. WTF is going on?” Ara thought to herself.

Ara kept reading and found her mother’s first husband was a human named Desmond Miles who was captain of the guard and a local who was born 20 years before he married Bekari. She also found his death certificate which says he died 5 years after they got married, cause of death was mysterious circumstances. “That’s strange.” Ara mumbled.  Ara dug deeper into this first marriage. She found an arrest certificate dated 30 days after his death, her mother was arrested, accused of his murder however she was released 30 days later. “Oh no, mom you didn’t…. There’s no way you could have…. “ Ara mumbled as she began to fear the worst. Ara then found another arrest certificate attached to her mother’s release paper. Za’an Miles who was sergeant of the guard at the time of mothers arrest and was Desmond’s sister was arrested for the murder for her brother. There was also an amendment to the death certificate saying that Desmond was poisoned with iocane. There was also a written confession from Za’an that simply stated, “I Za’an Miles killed my brother Desmond Miles.” There was no listing of motivation or how in the confession. This was odd and too strange. Ara, knowing what her bloodline could do, went searching to see if there was some contact between Za’an and Bekari. Ara began to say “No, no, nooo, mother you didn’t… please, you surely wouldn’t charm his own sister into falsely confessing just to free yourself.” as she read where just 3 days before the confession Za’an had visited Bekari in prison.

Bekari paid off all debts of every member of the Miles family 15 days after she was released. “Hmm perhaps mother didn’t charm, but made a deal.. Still just no mother no....” Ara thought reading this. Za’an was beheaded in prison only 3 days after she was arrested in prison by prisoner 37, the real name was smudged and not legible. Ara did some more digging and found that her mother was a sergeant of the guard and vouched for Za’an to join the guard just 5 years before she married Desmond. Ara began to question if her mother was really deep down evil as she began to wonder if the entire thing was a long con or something and all of it premeditated. Not satisfied believing this about her mother she kept digging for answers. Ara found that prisoner 37 was her uncle, her mother’s brother… he was also arrested by Desmond, who was captain of the guard when he arrested him just 5 years before mother had sponsored Za’an to join the guard. Uncle was arrested for ripping off the head of a shop's merchant with his teeth. The merchant’s last name was Miles. “Oh god no no no no no. Mom… why. You did set up this long con all because…” Ara mumbled as tears streamed down her face. Ara steeled her nerves and resolve, then dried her tears. “No, there were still too many holes in this story. Maybe her mom wasn’t the one responsible” she thought.

Still not satisfied, she went even deeper into the files. Turns out her uncle died just 4 days after killing Za’an, poisoned by iocane. “Wait, what? Whoa whoa whoa. This has really confusing things.” Ara thought. So she checked to see who had visited her uncle leading up to his death. He had only 1 visitor, it was on the day he died. The name was smudged but she could tell that the first name started with an S and the last name started with a B.  Upon further digging of info on Bekari she found out that Bekari’s father, Ara’s grandfather, was an alchemist named Shalashaska Birion. Ara gasped, “S B.” It was her grandfather who had killed her mother’s first husband, and her uncle, and likely convinced Za’an to confess. She knew too well the lengths a father would go to for his daughter. If he did not see Desmond as good enough, he likely killed him, then when they accused his daughter he had to kill one after the other to cover his tracks. It all suddenly fit into place in Ara’s mind, however one thing still bugged her, where did her mother get all of that money from to pay off the Miles family debts? She did a bit more digging and found out a contract between Bekari and another person for the sale of her grandfather’s alchemy shop. Grandfather had contested the sale of his shop even though the money was already paid. Seems the shop was in debt for 10,000 plat. Mother used the money from the sale of the shop to pay off the debts of the Miles family, likely because she knew about what grandfather had done and felt guilty for his actions. She also found a death certificate for grandfather, apparently his debt collectors caught him because he had been found neck broken twisted around 180 degrees and shoved up his own ass and his body shoved on a pike.

Ara was now curious though as she had yet to find any evidence on when Desmond entered the guard or of him or his sister living in the town before mother entered their lives. She did some more digging and found that Za’an couldn’t have children so she had adopted a child and he was who got the financial benefit from Bekari. However there was no proof of Za’an and Desmond’s parents ever living in the town or any proof of any one from the Miles family living in that town before Desmond and Za’an. And no evidence of him actually being in the guard other than on that arrest paper. Then Ara stumbled upon another death certificate for both Za’an and Desmond. This one says that Desmond died before arresting uncle and Za’an died before joining the guard.  Ara came to the conclusion that they had their identities stolen. “Perhaps the real reason grandfather had done what he did was to protect mother from the impostors. Maybe he knew they weren’t who they claimed to be and just wanted to protect her.” Ara thought for a moment. Ara decided to go with that as she didn’t like the idea of her grandfather being a cold murderer, even if she never met him.

Ara leaned back satisfied finally with that chain of research and decided to look into husband number 2 when suddenly a locked book fell from a top shelf and smacked her in the head. Ara looks and sees where it fell from and for some reason this book looks to be in pristine shape, not an ounce of dust on it even though the shelf it fell from was covered in layers of thick dust. Ara quickly solves the sliding picture puzzle lock with ease on her first try. As it pops open Ara sees her family tree. It even includes her name written in her mother’s hand writing. Ara gasps and thinks out loud, “Is mom still alive?” At that moment a being steps out from the shadows, and says “No, she isn’t.” Ara screams “Who the fuck are you?” visibly startled as she thought she was alone this whole time. In an ominous voice the being says, "I am no one and I am someone but for your purposes you can call me X" and with this the being’s eyes glowed red as the rest of it seemed to almost be made up of shadows. Ara then wondered, OK so she isn’t alive but she has obviously been here some time since I was born in order to have written my name here. X as though reading her thoughts responds, “Yes, very recently even. I’m sorry I’m not speaking directly to you, but someone through you.” Ara shrugs off the ramblings of this bizarre creature. She feels no malice or ill intent so she keeps searching for answers. And looks to see if there is any indication of her having a brother on her family tree and sees that there is no indication of it, just some erased lines from other branches of the family where mistakes had been made.

X begins to laugh at Ara’s sad attempts to make sense of everything, so to assist her X begins throwing papers at her from all over the building for her to read. At first Ara wasn’t sure where the papers were coming from but she noticed X’s fingers moving ever so slightly which gave away who was doing it.  Ara quickly began reading page after page as they flew in front of her. Bekari’s 2nd husband was the mayor of the town and died of natural causes after being married for 23 years to her. As Ara reads this only one thought enters her mind, “If mom had all these years of marriage and a full life here where she seemed happy enough for the most part, why call this place a cult and run away from it? Why hide this all from her? Sure it wasn’t all peachy but why lie about it to both her and her dad?” It is at this time X drops a stack of 17 pages in front of Ara. Ara begins to read this new stack as it describes an incident where several females of the town created a lynch mob that marched on the mayor's house the day after he died. They bared the doors from the outside and set fire to the house, all the servants died in that fire, yet for some reason Bekari did not. After she didn’t die they accused her of being a witch. They tied her to a pike in the middle of town and piled wood around the pike and proceeded to burn her, but could never figure out why the flames would never touch her. Because they couldn’t kill her with fire they ran her out of town. As Ara reads this X begins to take on a more physical form and gets closer to Ara. Ara continues to read, after Bekari was run out of town the women showed their true selves, they were demons. Ara begins to read the last page which is a recounting from the only survivor, a child, about how the entire village was destroyed by those demons years ago, long before Ara was born.

As Ara finishes reading the last page, the building starts turning to ash except the papers and the table which are glowing. Once the final page is read X’s eyes stop glowing and a female form appears out of the shadowy mist. Ara then turns to look at the woman as the papers and table turn to ash and the book with her family tree and the lock fall to the ground still intact. The female figure reaches down, grabs the book and the lock, locks the book back up, then hands it to Ara saying "keep this". As Ara grabs the book, she can’t shake this feeling in her gut so she reaches for the hood covering the woman’s face and moves it back gently, brushing the woman's face as she does. X speaks up, “All you had to do was ask and I would have removed the hood. I swear in all my years working for your family I’ve never had to go through so much trouble.” Ara responds, “Sorry, I had to know who you were. To be honest for a moment I thought maybe you were my mother’s spirit here to guide me.” X replies,”Sorry dear she really is gone. However I am indeed here to guide you, as I have assisted every member of your bloodline. You wouldn’t know me though, you met me only once, that was the day you were born.” Ara responds back, “It’s OK. I just felt like for a moment ...she was here with me. I still get the feeling that I’ve known you for years. So you said you’ve worked for my family for years, tell me, do I have a brother?” X answers very formally, “Yes and no. You had a twin brother who died at birth, but you lived. It was my job to show you what happened and to help your mother to birth her children and once I failed to give one of them a proper burial.” Ara takes a deep breath “OK, well obviously he is alive again somehow, as I have heard I have a brother who is currently plotting to destroy the world. How is this a thing if he is dead? Please fill in the gap for me of how my family got to this point. What don’t I know?” Again very formally X responds, “Yes M’lady that is the part that I am afraid scares me and the reason why I was in the state I was in when I found you. You see, the Dracolich revived your brother, and… your mother. I was able to kill your mother which is what she had asked me to do if such a thing ever befell her. Your brother however, was raised by the Dracolich and sees him as a parental figure. He is also quite powerful and deeply brainwashed. If this is all that you need I’ll go back to protecting you from the shadow.” Ara grabs her hand and puts a finger on her lips. “Nonsense. If it is true you are bound to me then no more hiding. Talk to me, stay with me. Be a proper servant to me. I have many more things to ask. Besides beauty such as yours has no business being hidden. “ X nods, “As you wish M’lady.” Ara then says, “OK first what is your name. This whole X business is getting old.” X responds, “Right, let me properly introduce myself. My name is Thefa, I am an Ifrit created by Slaanesh with the task of guarding, guiding, and forever watching your bloodline, the 1st bloodline. As long as a member of your bloodline is alive so shall I too live.”

“Whoa, whoa, hold up, OK Thefa what is all this 1st bloodline stuff and a creature of Slaanesh? Mother always told me that he was like some evil deity that created demons. However given the giant lie about this town just to keep me from finding it… I imagine that isn’t exactly the truth so please teach me about my full past, and why exactly you have to protect my bloodline.” It was at this time Thefa suggested they start heading back to where her friends would no doubt be waiting for her and informed Ara that she had been inside that hall of records for 2 and a half months. In order to keep that room together so that Ara could learn the truth she had to create a space outside of the normal realm to keep the building together. As they walked together to the nearest town they continued to talk. Thefa informed Ara that Slaanesh wasn’t good nor evil, he just gave power to people, what the people did with it was up to them. Some did good, some did bad. Slaanesh is a god of pleasure, lust and excess. A god of all the decadent things in life. Once he was born his very first creation was a line of succubus who were given a country to rule over. This country has been ruled by her bloodline for thousands of years. Ara’s mother, Bekari was supposed to be the next in line to rule the country, however she refused and handed the country over to her 2 viziers so that all decisions made for the country had to be agreed on by both in order to be enforced. Well the first thing they did was agree to divide the country and both control their half. She also explained that Ara was now the last living member of that original bloodline and the one true heir to that country should she decide to go and reunite it and take over. She also explains that her countries were not a part of the alliance that had held the summit meeting because until recently they were actually underground and not surface countries, but due to changes happening the country had risen to the surface. That was about all she knew concerning the country as she hadn’t been back since her mother gave up her rights to it. Ara and Thefa continued to get acquainted over the next 2 and a half months traveling back to the town where Ara had left the party. During that time Ara had seen Thefa’s true Ifrit form in battle. While some would regard it as beastly and ugly, Ara saw it as a beautiful bright flame and was in awe of how majestic Thefa looked as she easily disposed of 49 bandits in a single swipe of her flaming claws. Ara continued to tease Thefa that she was so beautiful that she wanted to someday have her as more than just a servant. Thefa every time responded, "That to be with her was to kill oneself." Ara always just vowed to become stronger so that someday she could handle her flames and repay her for the service she has given her family and especially to her.

Once they got back to the town where the summit was, Ara met with her long lost party member Baruch, where he had informed her that everyone had been in a coma for 5 months. There they took turns watching over their party members. Ara in her boredom and curiosity got Thefa’s help in measuring everyone. She now knows every woman’s bust, waist and hip measurement and the length and girth of every males Johnson. The mammoth’s was a challenge as it took both of them and Ara’s tail to hold it up to get a good measurement.

[schlemicl]

WHEN I SAID ‘THROW THE BOOK AT ME’ I DIDN’T MEAN LITERALLY.

Out had been in the presence of many people, many species, but none who had children that needed looking after. Except for a fellow UPR member, a Staff Sergeant with the name of Buck. He had met the man four years prior and were friends ever since Buck was one of the first allies he made after his escape from Saul’s and the company’s acceptance of him. They were close friends. So when the time came when Buck needed a caretaker for his daughter there was a stump for him and his wife, Scarlett who also worked and even though she didn’t want to leave their baby girl she knew they also needed to money to provided for that same life. After many conversations and agreements, Out willingly took the position to help his friend and his family. It had been some time since he looked after a child, so this was the first time in a while. “Thank you so much, again. I know it’s not easy having a day off and doing this for me but I promise I’ll be sure to reward you nicely. It means a lot to me.” Buck said shaking hands with the newly arrived spy. “Is that your friend, honey?” The voice of a young female called from the kitchen of their home before her husband called back. “Yeah, he’s here to look after Saskia.” Soon a woman with red hair came into the spy’s view, an air of sophistication filled the room, with a pleased expression Out bowed to her. “It’s a pleasure to see you, Ms. Scarlett.” He noticed the smile she gave him, blue eyes checking over the guest with concern and wonder, just as any mother would. “Alright, just be sure to give the list I made for you a look. It should be on the counter, and if she gets restless there’s a certain lullaby I wrote down that you can sing to her.” He nodded taking a step back for the lovely parents to leave. “We’ll be back as soon as we can, I promise,” Buck concluded leaving the home to Out and Saskia.

It wasn’t that he was afraid of what she thought of him but Saskia’s reaction towards him. He wasn’t the person who looked very welcoming to children no matter how hard he tried, Out suspected it was due to the scary stories that some parents feed their children when they want to hear something other the normal bedtime stories. ( Please let her like me. ) He thought as the spy went in search of the said little girl. Carefully and with a gentle tone, he’d call to her. “Saskia? Are you here?” There was no answer but a small giggle as the little girl came rushing past the door and barreling into his legs. The force was enough for him to lower down and nearly topple over her. “Whoa, there, I don’t think your father, or mother, would allow you to be doing that.” Out recommended, holding himself up. Soon a pair of blue eyes rose to look at the spy for the longest of times, enough for him to get almost every detail of her freckled face. “Who are you, mister?” She finally spoke, her voice high with a hint of curiosity. “I’m your caretaker, the one your father scheduled to look after you, my name’s Out, what’s yours?” He’d question even though he already knew it, but it only seemed appropriate. There was a hum of uncertainty that made its way past her lips before shrugging. “Daddy did say something about a tall man coming to the house, I didn’t know you were going to be this tall! You’re like a tree. My name is Saskia, but my friends at school call me Skai.” She took a step back, when she did he noticed her holding a small book in her hands. It made the spy surprised nonetheless, she was an early reader. “I see you have a book there, can you tell me what it’s about?” Rising to two legs once again he notices the way she eyes his own. “Umm… Mommy reads it to me. It’s about this rabbit who looks for a new home.” 

Growing shy the little girl steps back again before shuffling her feet as if she did something bad. “Throw the book at me, we can sit in the living room and continue it.” Though confusion laced her face and before Out could say anything, her hand reared back, throwing the book at him. With quick reflexes, it was easy to dodge it but the action itself was unexpected, in the end, the book collided with his shoulder and a sense of slight pain started up. “When I said ‘thrown the book at me’ I didn’t mean it literally, darling.” Out groaned, rubbing the spot carefully as he leaned down to pick it up. “I’m sorry.” She mumbled, barely audible as she came over to him. “When you said throw it thought you were real.” A shake of his head before the spy extended his free hand. “No darling, it’s a figure of speech, but you won’t understand until you’re a little older. Now come on let’s see if this bunny finds a home and then we can see about you getting a little nap in, sound good?” She nodded and the shy demeanor slowly faded as the two of them began the day together.

[mygangtome]

Where They Were, Where They Are Now - Lucy Griffiths

She was the Nightwatchman, Lady Marian, the proud and strong lady in Nottingham who fed information to our favorite outlaws, stood toe to toe with the Sheriff and caught the attention and desire of Guy of Gisborne.  Here is a list of the project Lucy Griffiths has worked in since her days as Marian ended. 

U Be Dead (2009) – Bethan Ancell

A doctor and his girlfriend are stalked by a woman who claims to be in love with him. Meanwhile, the man falls in love with a younger woman. Based on a true story.

Character bio: The much younger and second fiancee of Dr. Jan Falkowski, who is caught up in the events as the doctor’s stalker refuses to relent. 

Fan comments: Not one that I have seen or heard much about at all, so I have little insight to offer.  It seems like it could be a suspenseful story, and the cast is pretty strong, so it does have that.  

Collision (2009) – Jane Tarrant

The story of a major road accident and a group of people who have never met, but who all share one single defining moment that will change their lives.

Character bio: Jane is living a normal, possibly dull, life; she works at a fast food joint and living with her boyfriend.  When he suggests they get married, she gets frustrated and is afraid of being trapped.  When the massive car crash drives victims to her workplace, she meets and begins an affair with Richard Reeves, an older business man. 

Fan comments: I did see this one, and enjoyed the suspense and the trail of stories that weave together at the collision point. The individual characters are intriguing, and the plot holds your attention. Lucy does very well, though it was a shock to see her in blonde hair!

Inspector Lewis (2010) – Madeleine Escher (1 episode) 

Inspector Robert Lewis and Sergeant James Hathaway solve the tough cases that the learned inhabitants of Oxford throw at them. Falling Darkness -  During a Halloween, one of Dr Hobson’s college roommates is found dead with a stake through her heart and a garlic bulb in her mouth.

Character Bio: Madeleine Escher is one of four students living in a house that is apparently haunted, but is one of the three who are initially unconcerned. 

Fan comments: I have never seen any Inspector Lewis, nor this episode, though it sounds clearly like a Halloween episode with supposedly supernatural connections to crimes that have mundane answers.  

The Little House (2010) – Ruth

A reluctant mother, young Ruth Clee’s post natal vulnerability and failure to bond with her baby is exploited by Elizabeth, her manipulative mother-in-law in a battle to seize control of the child.

 Character Bio: Described as emotionally fragile, Ruth is diagnosed with post-partum psychosis after the birth of her son.  Her mother-in-law’s controlling nature only compounds Ruth’s other troubles, which include spectral sightings of her own mother, confusion and memory loss.  

Fan comments: From the reviews I read, it feels like the script lets the actors and characters down, rushing development and skipping things that would lead to better understanding of their emotional development.  

Dirt 3 (2011) - Store Manager (voice)

A racing game about a guy and a woman wanting to race against humanity can they do it? Your story your choice.

Fan comments: I couldn’t find anything about a character, so there is not much to talk about her. 

Billboard (2011) - The Ex

A dark, twisted tale of two young suicidal characters who, through a series of unfortunate events, come together for one crazy night.

To shake things up, here is the teaser trailer, which does feature a lot of Lucy:

And here is another video of her talking about the project:

Awakening (2011) – Jenna Lestrade

Two sisters find themselves on opposite sides of a zombie uprising.

Another video clip, as there is next to nothing else to be found about this made for TV movie. 

The Numbers Station (2013) – Meredith

A disgraced black ops agent is dispatched to a remote CIA broadcast station to protect a code operator. Soon, they find themselves in a life-or-death struggle to stop a deadly plot before it’s too late.

Character bio: One of the code dispatchers / operators at the broadcast station; leaves a code for Katherine (lady lead), which is a vital part of the code breaking that needs to be done. 

Fan comments: This seems like a thriller that I would be interested in, with codes and a race against the clock.  Lucy’s part does not seem large, though it is a part important to the plot. 

True Blood (2012-2013) Nora Gainesborough (21 episodes)

Telepathic waitress Sookie Stackhouse encounters a strange new supernatural world when she meets the mysterious Bill, a southern Louisiana gentleman and vampire.

Character bio: “ Nora was irreverent, intelligent, intimidating, cool under pressure and a very good liar. Like many siblings, she and her “brother” enjoyed a fiery love/hate relationship. Though she cared for him deeply, and looked up to him, she dedicated her life to a higher purpose. However, she lacked self-discipline and, unlike her maker, seemed to have little regard for human life. Like Godric, Eric and Pam, Nora spoke Swedish. Nora was a devout religious vampire and when she was captured by the Authority and placed in her cell, the only thing she did is pray to Lilith. When Lilith mercilessly destroyed Godric, Nora finally realized that Lilith was evil and cowered in fear of her.” (from True Blood Wiki)

Fan comments: I will say that I have no intention of watching this show.  Vampires on HBO is not really my speed.  Though from that description of Nora, there might be moments were we see Marian’s brand of stubbornness and fire showing up.   

Winter’s Tale (2014) – Young Woman

A burglar falls for an heiress as she dies in his arms. When he learns that he has the gift of reincarnation, he sets out to save her.

Character Bio: Lucy is credited only as young woman, so I have a feeling she barely shows up on screen. 

Fan comments: And as I have not seen this one either, I cannot say for sure how much she shows up.  But it is a pretty looking movie, so let’s have the trailer:

Last Summer (2014) – Rebecca

Having lost custody of her six year-old son, a young Japanese woman has four days to say goodbye to him on-board a yacht belonging to her western ex-husband’s wealthy family. Alone with the crew, who are under direct instruction to keep a watchful eye on her, the woman must try to forge a connection with her son before she has to part from him for many years.

Character bio: One of the yaht crew, Rebecca is the person that young Ken clings to when first interacting with his mother.  

Fan comments: The only trailers I could find of this film were in Italian, but I don’t think the film was shot in Italian. The reviews have said it is a quiet film, artistic and beautiful, with a hopeful ending.  I might track it down, because Rinko Kikuchi is the main character, Naomi, and that with Lucy in the film intrigues me.

Don’t Look Back (2014) – Nora Clark

An adult woman must face the trauma and horrors of her difficult childhood after avoiding it for years.

Character bio: Nora is a writer of young adult books, struggling with a writer’s block and the death of her grandmother. She decides to move back to her grandmother’s house (where Nora had been raised), to deal with the estate and the other details. She opens the house to a lodger, Peyton, who develops an unhealthy attraction to Nora.  At the same time, Nora’s life continues to be bombarded by skeletons from her past. 

Fan comments: This is another one that the writing fails any and all of the talent from the cast by all accounts of the reviews. 

Constantine (2014) – Liv Aberdine

A man struggling with his faith who is haunted by the sins of his past is suddenly thrust into the role of defending humanity from the gathering forces of darkness.

Character bio: Liv winds up working with Constantine to banish a demon that is hunting her.  She also inherited a pendant from her father that allows her to see multiple planes of existence, making her more than an ordinary office worker as we first think.

Fan comments: So Constantine has been on the back burner of my shows for awhile, since I heard it was actually pretty well done, despite not being renewed. I may bump it up the list now that I know Lucy is in it. 

Home for Christmas (2014) – Alice

Beth Prince has always loved fairytales and now she feels like she’s finally on the verge of her own happily ever after; a dream job in a charming independent cinema by the seaside and a gorgeous boyfriend. There’s just one problem - no man has ever told her they love her. Desperate to hear their crucial three little words for the first time Beth takes matters into her own hands - and wishes she hasn’t.

I couldn’t find much info, though it apparently a rom com with Christmas, and is generally feel good.  Though I did find this video and thought I would share it:

 Uncanny (2015) – Joy Andrews

The world’s first “perfect” Artificial Intelligence begins to exhibit startling and unnerving emergent behavior when a reporter begins a relationship with the scientist who created it. 

Character bio: Joy is at first just curious about the actual AI project, but then develops a friendship with David, the creator of the AI, Adam.  This friendship builds to a sexual relationship, and the AI develops more and more human emotions which puts Joy in danger. 

Fan comments: I would have put this on a list of movies to see, but in the course of researching, I’ve seen all the spoilers… and well, I might still watch it. 

Preacher (2016) – Emily (10 episodes)

After a supernatural event at his church, a preacher enlists the help of a vampire to find God.

Character bio:  Emily is no-nonsense single mother of three. Emily’s a waitress, while also serving as a church organist, bookkeeper and Jesse’s loyal right hand. (bio from Preacher Wikia)

Fan comments: While the premise of the show doesn’t quite catch me (so sick of vampires, sorry), Lucy’s character seems an interesting change from some of the other roles I’ve seen her in, and from those that I had to research.  I may have to look up her episodes. 

That is it for now in Lucy’s filmography, but I am interested to see what her career will bring! 

[helloelegantstudentmiracle-blog]

WWE SmackDown

WWE Blacklisted

WWE is likely one of the biggest box office attracts in sports and entertainment at this time, producing over $four hundred million in income dollars yearly. Followers are already anxious to get their WWE tickets early for a few of the headline matches being featured on the 2009 tour schedule. World Wrestling entertainment is a multimedia large that has introduced the facility of the wrestling business entrance and heart for followers who want their matches Raw and bursting with SmackDown mayhem. WWE excitement is broadcast on Pay per View tv and held at massive sports arenas in many nations including the US, Canada, Japan, and the UK. Occasions are ceaselessly headlined under one of these WWE banners: Raw, SmackDown and ECW. Throughout the world, there are cheering crowds who can barely comprise their enthusiasm as they look ahead to a turn to take a seat at ringside for a private and up-shut view of the action.

Why Followers are Enthusiastic about WWE

While there are numerous televised occasions which are sponsored by WWE, nothing can replace the incredible pulse-pounding thrill of experiencing the fury and mayhem reside from prime seats. The top WWE tickets promote out rapidly, particularly for grudge and headline matches, and fans are always cautioned in regards to the necessity for early purchases if they want to have the ability to attend any of the dwell shows. Lengthy gone are the times when live wrestling was a second or third-price sporting venue, at present WWE has put this sport and its larger than life wrestling personalities on the "top of the entertainment heap".

Vince MacMahon is called 'The Chairman', and he was the mastermind who reworked the regionalized professional wrestling scene into the conglomerate behemoth that it is immediately. His tactics weren't always appreciated however he was the driving power that introduced this sport into mainstream entertainment. While most followers know that that professional wrestling is certainly a combination of athletics, skill and acting, they still get caught up within the fantasy that takes place just inches from their eyes. It is extremely troublesome to convince some viewers that a lot of the action is created for their enjoyment. In truth, many die-laborious followers seek for WWE tickets for every potential occasion simply because they're so enthusiastic about cheering on the gladiators of their selection.

The 2009 Season has Exploded

Already there has been some incredibly arduous motion happening on the WWE scene. On a recent SmackDown occasion, there was a mishap with among the pyrotechnics. One of the fan favorites and WWE Champ, Jeff Hardy, was rushed for medical treatment for suspected burns to his face and physique. This is not what's often meant by sizzling, reside action nevertheless it goes to show you that the wrestling enterprise is just not completely run by choreographed scripts. This January, SmackDown continued and all of the followers actually got greater than they bargained for.

The 2009 Royal Rumble is getting ready to explode in just some days and members for this live match embody Shelton Benjamin, the Undertaker, Carlito, and the Moscow Mauler. The Royal Rumble is always a top occasion as a result of there's a chance at the World Championship title for the winner of this no holds barred spectacular. There isn't any doubt that the brand new season for WWE will give them sufficient thrills, chills and spills to keep them satisfied. WWE tickets are selling at a livid pace and there are some new personalities that will quickly be launched and several other are positive to create some controversies and drama.

Wrestlemania 24, is the event thought-about the "superbowl of sports entertainment" and the most important Pay Per View of the yr for WWE. It should feature thousands of fans along with celebrities in attendance to look at as the WWE Superstars and WWE Divas put on a spectacle. Already confirmed to be there are the likes of Snoop Dogg, Raven Symone, Kim Kardashian, and R&B singer John Legend. Whereas these celebrities will certainly carry extra star power to the occasion, it will likely be all concerning the competitors within the ring. Three big matches will headline the 2008 Wrestlemania and are already full of rumors and hypothesis over who will win.

The World Heavyweight title has all the time been closely contested and the belt presently is around the waist of WWE Famous person Edge. Edge from WWE's Smackdown model won the belt after utilizing all kinds of tricks during a triple risk Pay Per View match against the Undertaker and Batista. Batista was the champ at the time, however Edge used a chair to knock out Undertake for a pin. Now heading into Wrestlemania 24, Undertaker has won an Elimination Chamber match of 6 men. His prize will probably be an try at Edge's World Heavyweight title. The attention-grabbing info listed here are that Undertaker is a powerful 15-0 at Wrestlemania, by no means losing a match, and that Edge has by no means been defeated by the Undertaker. One thing's bought to offer for this one with the title on the road.

On the WWE Uncooked facet of issues is the WWE title, at the moment held by famous person Randy Orton. Triple H received a brutal Elimination Chamber match against 5 different males to earn a shot at the WWE title. Nonetheless, John Cena additionally gained the 2008 Royal Rumble, giving him a shot at the WWE title. The apparent sensible plan was to place John Cena, Triple H and Randy Orton right into a Triple Threat match at Wrestlemania 24. One in every of these three men will take the glory of the WWE title on the grandest stage of all of them.

Lastly, there's a Wrestlemania 24 match which is taken into account a "David vs. Goliath" sort of contest. It options the returning wrestling star, the Huge Show who's over 7 toes tall. His competitors comes from outside the wrestling ranks, as boxer Floyd "Cash" Mayweather enters the wrestling ring.

The 39-0 boxer selected to throw some punches at Huge Present during a earlier WWE Pay Per View. During the altercation, Mayweather broke Huge Present's nostril, leaving the massive famous person bloody and offended. On the following night, Massive Present taunted Mayweather again after it appeared Present needed to apologize. Massive Show referred to as out the boxer, who has now vowed to "break Big Present's jaw". Now Mayweather will play David to Huge Show's Goliath once they compete. The rumored payout for Mayweather taking the WWE match is $20 million. Many fans and sports activities analysts question if the money is value being decimated by such a huge opponent.

hy select WWE Costumes for Halloween? As a result of kids younger and outdated are followers of World Wresting Leisure they usually tune in to watch their favourite heroes battle it out within the ring. Little youngsters aspire to be like John Cena, The Undertaker, or Rey Mysterio and large children relive their youth and what they may have been. Throughout trick-or-treating season, there isn't any want to sit down ringside because WWE Halloween costumes allow you to be part of within the motion! Let your child, or husband, live out his desires on this fun Halloween costume this yr.

There are lots of completely different Halloween costume ideas from movie and TV stars, to cartoon characters, to animals. For the wrestling fan, there actually isn't any different selection than WWE Halloween costumes. These distinctive costumes look nice and better yet, costumers will really feel nice wearing them. A type of invincibility takes over when some spandex, a cape, and a shiny belt are part of the apparel. Best of all, children and adults can discover the right WWE costumes since there are so many completely different wrestler seems to be and kinds out there.

For these on a really tight price range, WWE Halloween costumes may be made at residence. Going to a party as a traditional character like Sergeant Slaughter does not require a lot effort. Get some black fight boots, black pants, a camouflage shirt, black vest, wristbands, dark sunglasses, and a hat. Most of these items can be discovered at house or borrowed from mates or household. Add a contact of realism by pumping up the muscle mass by padding the shirt. Add a retailer purchased accent just like the Championship Belt for a little extra realism.

If you happen to like the thought of WWE Halloween costumes and wish an opportunity at having top-of-the-line outfits on the social gathering, purchase your disguise from one of many online Halloween costume shops. That is the quickest and best approach to get an ideal outfit in minimal time. The stores are crowded during this time of yr so see what the Web has to offer. There are inventive concepts like the Rowdy Roddy Piper outfit that encompasses a muscle chest, jacket, belt, wristbands, wig, and even the authentic kilt. Going to a party dressed on this will flip heads and certainly win the prize!

Trying online is a great way to seek out different artistic dressing ideas for individuals who are true wrestling fans. The selection contains the greats like Hulk Hogan, Rey Mysterio, and Stone Chilly Steve Austin as well as authentic-trying accessories. Partygoers can declare their championship standing by sporting a spinning belt with their outfits.

WWE Halloween costumes are a enjoyable way to enjoy trick or treating or an office get together. Everyone can identify with the wrestling heroes, so why not costume as one. You will make an impression and get folks talking about who had the best costume at this 12 months's occasion. Check the selections you find for adults and kids alike at one of the many on-line Halloween costume shops where it is possible for you to to select from all your favorite WWE character costumes and WWE costume equipment. Get able to Rumble in your wrestling Halloween costume!

Professional Wrestling in itself is one of the most original types of leisure out there. Some call it a sport, some call it a soap opera and others name it a traveling stage show. For something so hard to pigeon gap it's equally as laborious for reporters to cover the wrestling news.

In the dinosaur age earlier than wrestling was exposed journalists would cover wrestling news as if it had been a real sport like boxing. They would present up on the events, make notes and when a wrestler gained then that was that. As it developed and storylines (similar to soap operas) were labored in to the industry, (primarily in the course of the WWE angle era and Monday Night Wars) "Mark Magazines" would cover professional wrestling as if those storylines were actual. If The Rock threw Steve Austin in to a river (sure that happened as soon as), the writer would write it as if it was probably the most insane thing that could ever happen in a sport. This was a singular system that helped promote the game. In the present day loads of negativity can be reported.

As the web developed and "Filth Sheet" newsletters and websites sprung up, just about all fans knew the truth that wrestling was faux so wrestling news was no longer about what occurred within the ring, but what occurred behind the curtain. No person wished to buy magazines that rehashed what was seen on TELEVISION. Insider news was born.

Why had been certain wrestlers in the high spots if it was faux? Who decided anyone would win and why? Now instead of an upset victory, the headline would be in regards to the political causes behind a lesser star getting the win. This has brought about many modifications ans swerves to storylines when promoters noticed results and particulars on-line or in print.

It comes to a shock that many insider wrestling information websites publish spoilers and get data long earlier than it airs on TELEVISION. The rationale this happens is as a result of through the years reporters have grow to be pals with certain wrestlers or members of management and people in the WWE leak out the data itself.

It's not unusual to see newsletters or wrestling news websites on the desks or laptops of wrestlers.

Even now wrestling news is evolving. The sheer speed that some web sites break the information leaves less "inside" reporters to move away from the day after day news and on to analysis. Now many wrestling journalists give their professional opinion on the news or present storylines as opposed to writing the actual tales.

A criticism that some wrestling news websites get includes a small number of massive sites (most sprung up between 1998 and 2002) that are pretty much similar and use a syndicated system. This involves a choose few reporters that submit the identical news on all of the websites in return for a hyperlink on their own, resulting in a big network of the very same content material.

Another criticism that is made about wrestling news websites entails journalists changing to a premium providers. Readers have to pay to access the information of a few of the very long time wrestling news reporters which appears crazy nowadays of free info.

[gaaragirl22]

What If...

I’ve been sucked down the Sondheim hole again. So Here is part one of my series on Passion the musical. Where Fosca and Giorgio meet early on and have a connection. He wonders why this ugly creature has latched on to his heart. She wonders why this man makes her feel..almost Beuatufuil. 

Fosca strides, purpose in every step, through the marketplace the only thought on her mind was her husband Count Ludwick of Austria. Dinner had to be cooked, fire’s had to be stoked, rooms cleaned all before he returned from his very necessary trip. One item was left on her list, Veal; Ludwick's favorite. As she approached the stall of the butcher she guards her heart. ‘A woman is a flower…’

“Hello, Good sir.” She greets a smile on her lips. She watches as he rears slightly back something she thought she would be used to by now. “I would like some of your best veal, please.” She requests her smile wavers as she watches his assistants staring at her face.After a moment she reaches into her purse removing a small amount of money she moves to hand it to him.

“O-oh of course Signore, of course.” The butcher finally answers. He turns and shouts at the young boys to get the veal cut and wrapped for her. “I-It will be ready, soon.”

“Thank ...you.” Fosca watches as he quickly turned towards the next customers. Noticing the whispers from behind her she moved to the side not wanting to get in the way of the next customer. She stares ahead at a tree, not looking to her sides or even at the ground, the whispers continuing behind her their eyes burning into her back, their whispers getting louder as she stares harder at the tree taking in the branches and the leaves, she sees a bird sitting on one of the branches. She watches as it cleans it beak and ruffles it feathers and suddenly it takes flight soaring through the air till it disappears.

“Signore?” A small voice calls.

Fosca looks down to see a small child holding a white package towards her. Her thoughts go back to the bird how it seemed so free of restrictions. So alive so free to change as it leapt to new heights. As she watches the child standing before staring into her face the whispers seem to rise in volume as the stares seem to grow in strength as she looks into his face.

‘A woman is a flower…’

“Thank you.” Fosca whispers to the child a smile crossed her face as the boy blushed. She reaches into her purse pulling out a small coin she hands it to him. “Have a lovely evening.” She turns towards her carriage. She hears the boy yelp of excitement and the rise of the whispers again, this time uncaring as she remembers why she ventured out today to make her handsome, loving husband’s favorite meal.

Once home she hurries about making the preparations for dinner. Memories of her parents floating through her mind, her father's indulgent smile, her mother’s loving gaze as she helped the cook make supper. With a smile she made the broth for the soup, thinking back to Ludwick’s reaction when he was told she had made the broth herself. He's sweet compliments raining down over her as he held her hand. She watched the veal roast in the oven thinking about Ludwick’s multiple trips none of which had been successful in earning him any money, yet. With a sigh she thought of their coiffures running low worried she would have to ask her father for another loan. As she continued to ponder about their funds a knock was heard from the servant door. With a deep breath and growing fear approaches it not sure who it could be, she opens it to see her cousin Frederick standing in the entryway.

“Frederick!” she gasps “What are you doing here? I thought you were off training with your battalion.”

“We stopped in town for a few days!” He informs pulling her in for a hug. “I wanted to check on you and Ludwick to see how he has been treating you.”

“Why use the servant entrance?”

“To give you a fright, why else!?”

“Oh, Frederick!” She exclaims slapping his shoulder. The worries of the day seem to fade in the light of her cousin who feels more like a brother since her parents took him in.

“Where is he? I want to surprise him as well.” He questions.

“Oh...Well, Ludwick had to leave on urgent business, he will be returning today. I’m cooking one of  his favorite meal to welcome him.”

“Ah, so he is neglecting you.” Fredricks states grabbing one of the buns as he takes a seat.

“No!” Fosca yelps startling both herself and her cousin. “I mean that he has very urgent business he needs to attend to so he needs to leave... weekly. For long periods of time and without a word because he’s busy.”

“So’s he’s not neglecting you?”

“No, He loves me.”

“Yet, He’s never home.”

“What is your Battalion doing?” She asks switching topics as she slides into the seat opposite him with a bright smile not reaching her eyes.

With a sigh, Frederick goes into a colorful recount of his battalion duties and functions describing his sergeants and generals in tasteful yet humorous manner. Fosca listens in a riveted fashion following his tale as though he was telling her the secret to life. Perhaps he was.

“Oh my, look at the time! You should head back wouldn’t want your general coming after you.” Fosca chides.

“Ha, like he would take the time. I must come to you again! I’ll bring some of my friends and we will regale you with stories!”

“Oh, come tomorrow evening by than Ludwick would be rested and he will want to see you again.” Fosca suggest.

They both rise and head for the servants’ entrance with a nod Fredrick’s agrees, stopping before the door he hugs her once more whispering into her hair. “No matter what I will be here for you, Cousin.”

“Thank you, Frederick, I will see you tomorrow.” As she shuts the door behind him she looks again at the clock two hours till he gets here. Two hours….

She goes about cleaning the house. There isn’t much to clean since it’s only her, mostly. She let the servants go months ago. No point in paying them to serve one and it saved her a great amount of money. She set the table, brought out the wine, set the food out and fussed over the candles. Looking at the clock again she notes the time. One hour till he arrives. One hour…..

She heads upstairs to get dressed she chooses her gold dress the one she wore the first time they meet. Fixed her hair in a simple braid with a gold ribbon on the end. Looking into the mirror she tried not to stare she knew she wasn't beautiful but...she was loved. Lightly powdering her cheeks and biting her lips she looks towards the clock. Twenty minutes till he returns. Twenty minutes….

She heads to the foyer fussing around the room while anxiously watching the street through the window. Wondering how her husband would greet her how he would rush in tired and sleepy till he looked into her eyes, then quickly sweeping her up into his arms promising to stay and finally...kiss her. He would tell her about his day talk about how he misses her and he’ll finally get a job close to home because he can’t bear to be away from her. Then they will eat he’ll praise her cooking and take her hand and lead her to the bedroom and..and….from the street she hears a carriage stop in front of her house she watches as her husband climbs down a smile grew on her face. She rushes towards the entryway fixing her hair in what she hoped would be seductive. The door opens and in he walks carrying a small bag he shuts the door behind him.

“Welcome home, husband.” She greets walking forward she helped him remove his coat and hold his bag. “The parlor is ready if you want to rest before supper.” She informs putting his jacket into the closet she notices a paper sticking out of the inner pocket. She takes it out and looks it over; it’s a gambling card stating that someone named Raphael was in debt by thousands of pounds. She smiled thinking how kind her husband was to take on a friend’s problem. When a thought floats into her mind and takes root; ‘He never introduced any of his friends to me’. She shoved the note into his coat turning she followed him into the parlor.

“How was your trip?” She questions taking a seat to his side. Picking up her unfinished needlework she went to work waiting for him to answer.

“It was...Business. Not much to talk about I’m afraid.” He answers puffing on his pipe. His eyes focusing on the wall ahead of him. Silence fell over them Fosca wondered what was going through his mind as they sat together.

“It would be nice to have something to tell my parents.” She reasons continuing her needlework.

“Father keeps asking if you would like to work in the factory-” She stops as Ludwick stands.

“I’m tried, Fosca, Can we...Not tonight, my dear?” He throws over his shoulder heading towards the doors.

“What about dinner!?” Fosca calls after him. Worried she had offended him with talk of work, again. While her family paid her dowry and helped them get their home he had yet to return any of it.Why did he marry her if he didn’t plan to grow with her!? Why?! ‘Don’t asks questions...He chose you.’  

“Save my plate, I’ll eat later.” He answers she knows that means that she would eat alone, if at all. His footsteps could be heard going up the stairs signaling to Fosca, again, that their talk was over. Fosca swallows her tears thinking that again she would spend the night with only her tears and a good romance novella. She puts her needlework away as she moves to blow out the candles and close the curtains. She silently moves to the kitchen each step resounding in her heart highlighting her loneliness, her pain. ‘He chose you! Love will come, eventually….’ Her mantra playing on repeat in her head as she cleared the dinner room and put out the lights, placing the salvageable food in the ice box. Her mind unable to come to terms with her life’s currents path. Thinking back to the many romances she had read the multiple tropes and tragedies the numerous endings she had memorized she thought she had it figured out that she had found a loophole for someone ugly, someone who was less fortunate, someone who didn’t deserve love. She ascends the stairs carrying a small lantern a small sliver of hope still floating in her mind. ‘Love will come, eventually….’    She comes to his room staring at it she wondered why it felt like more than this wood door that separated them. She touches the cold wood remembering their wedding night, his warm touch, A fire in her belly, a moment where everything was bright and colorful when she swore he loved her.

“I forgot to tell you my cousin is in town, visiting, he will be here tomorrow evening to see you.” She calls hoping that her words would reach him.

“I will be here.” His answer muffled by the door. She smiles he stills cares she thinks he will be here for me.