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razorblade180 · 3 years

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Twin Snowflakes 26: Preparation

[part 2 of 2]

Another day, another classroom bell. As far as Monday’s go, today was pretty harmless for Summer. Classes went by fast, Veronica only nagged her about what to eat for lunch, and P.E. was used for tournament announcements so she didn’t have to change. In a few minutes she’ll be able to walk out of the student council meeting and go home to escape-

“We’re all staying after school today, all of us.” Eliza said, filing papers.

Summer planted her head on the table. “Why do you hate me!? I’m nothing but kind to you.” She whined.

“Stop crying! Did you expect to go into the tournament performance cold turkey? This isn’t one of your concerts. Multiple things need to work at once. Which is why Harriet was kind enough to keep a platform up to act as a stage in the gym. You and your brother will have the band’s support.

Nick’s face turned to terror. He could see Summer’s face begin to get excited. “Summer, I know that look. Please remember that neither the band nor I are as skilled as you. Don’t go full dictator on us.”

She could only laugh and smile energetically. “That won’t be a problem if you hit the notes.”

“Not what I wanted to hear, Summer!”

Veronica got up from the table and packed her things. “You all have fun. I’m gonna get started on that outfit. The materials should be at your house by now.”

“Not so fast.” Eliza interjected, “Did you forget that you’re filling in on the cheer team? Their practice starts in fifteen minutes.”

“B-But my fabrics!” She gasped.

Eliza folded her arms confidently. “Sorry, tough luck. Harriet saw your moves and she gets what she wants. If only Amber didn’t twist her leg.”

Nick let out a snicker before hiding his smile from Veronica. Karma is a cruel mistress.

“I myself will oversee everything as best as I can while leading my own rehearsal. Don’t think twice to come find me, or the President, who should really be the one leading this meeting.”

“Nah you’re on a roll.”He smiled.

She gave him a glare before continuing. “Anyways, I also need somebody to let Valerie know the water heater is screwed up again and also that she should at least help with hauling supplies to Amity Arena; since she so rudely skipped this meeting.”

All of the council and other student body members turned to Nick instinctively. It was warranted but man did it blow. Summer glady stood up to take the bullet.

“I will tell her everything she needs to know, after rehearsals.”

“Works for me. Let’s move people! Time is ticking.” Eliza gathered her belongings and went out the door with the rest of the staff. Summer and Veronica gave him a nudge as they walked by. “You two still have enough time to do the outfit?”

“I fixed your sister’s uniforms in no time at all. I already have all her measurements I need so the annoying part is over.”

“What she said.” Summer added. “At this point I guess I’m being moved to wherever I’m supposed to be. Eugh, after school, even the name hurts my throat.”

“Think of it like this. We get to spend all day with Eliza!” Nick yelled out the door cheekily.

“I will answer none of your questions!” She yelled back, knowing she basically has to spend the entire day around Nick. She hadn’t told him yet but she was going to accept his offer. Her curiosity about his plan was too strong. The tournament was quickly approaching. Every step forward counts. Time to kick things into high gear.

Nick found the strength to leave the table and face judgment. “Alright, let’s get this pain over with.”

“Quit exaggerating! I will be a humble singing instructor.”

xxxxx

“COME ON NICK! YOU CALLED THAT A HARMONY!?” Summer was not humble, or quiet for that matter. “I know you can do better!”

Nick endured the criticism as he sipped his water. He was prepared for this but obviously the band wasn’t. Summer had everyone in their group scared stiff and onlookers watching in awe. This might be the first time they’ve heard her speak in school, let alone emote.

Her fiery nature was on full display and it’s intensity was higher than her ponytail. Free from uniform constraints, she wore compression tights and a thin long sleeved shirt that hugged her frame. Summer looked more sporty right now than she has in her entire school life.

The many eyes on the twins' practice didn’t seem to bother her. “Let’s take it from the top.” She grabbed her guitar and began to play immediately. A quick glare to the drummer snapped him out of his trance and got him to play, making the rest fall in line. Live practice was never a thing she did often. People ceased the opportunity all around the gym to watch magic be created before their ears.

Some legends are told, some turn to dust or to gold.

But you will remember me~

Remember me for centuries~

She nodded to Nick and he gripped his mic.

And just one mistake... is all it will take.

We’ll go down in history~

Their breathing synced up.

REMEMBER ME FOR CENTURIES~

Summer raised her fist, silencing the band. The performer turned towards her brother and band. A fraction of a smile crept onto her face. “Better. Not perfect, but much better.” She took a sip of water. “Not to be tyrant-”

“Yet here we are.” Nick said, earning a few laughs from the band and a glare from his sis. “What!? I’m boosting morale!”

“I know. It’s the only reason I’m not chewing your head off. Here I was about to compliment you too.”

“The biggest compliment you can give me is letting us finish the song completely. We’ve only gone about a fourth through it. Everyone knows this song.”

“Anybody can know a song but few feel it. I know you know this. The crowd at the tournament is gonna want hype and they’ll most likely sing along. Our job is to cultivate it to its peak. We are the opening of the event. I picked this song for a reason. If we come out firing on all cylinders then I know we can ride the wave through the whole song! Let me feel your hype, your energy!”

Nick pursed his lips. “If you want energy, then you let these guys have fun! Ice breaker time!” Nick spun around and pointed to the band. “Give me a funky beat!”

The members looked at one another, shrugging before kicking in a fun, funky classic; Billie Jean!

Nick let out the biggest “Yeah~” then started moonwalking around Summer. “Come on Summer, you can’t resist the beat!”

“Really? Of all the songs you think I’m just gonna-” She kicked her leg out and then twirled to the microphone.

She was more like a beauty queen from a movie scene…!

Nick hopped with joy before chiming in as the band jammed out. Eliza watched the two from off stage with her color guard troop in disbelief, joined by Veronica seconds later in her cheerleader uniform. Eliza waved her hand to her group. “Guys, take ten. I guess it’s break time.”

“Those two seem to be having a ball. They always like this with council stuff?”

“Hardly. It’s the only reason why I’m not yelling at them right now. Can’t remember the last time they looked happy to participate. They can laugh their lungs out as long as the work gets done. Might motivate the others. Anyways, how are you holding up?”

“Oh you know, as much as a newbie could be in this situation.” Veronica shook her pom-poms for dramatic effect. “Feels nice to do something like this again though. It’s like wearing an old glove.”

“History with cheerleading?”

“Gymnastics, my ribbon work doesn’t stop with a needle. That was some time ago but I digress.”

“I see. Well...you move like a pro.” Eliza said, a little stuttery. She played with her hands a bit while focusing on the twins.

Her elevated heart rate rang like a bell while her movements reminded Veronica of herself whenever she first met Coco Axel. “So...a little birdy told me I got a fan of my work here? Got any clue who?” She teased, enjoying Eliza's jump a little. Poor girl's cheeks went red.

Eliza felt a crushing betrayal. “Which twin opened their big mouth?”

“Is the ‘who’ that important?”

“Ah so it’s both?”

Veronica tucked her lips in. “Uhhh I won’t confirm or deny that. To think I’d have a fan all the way up in Atlas?”

“Please, we don’t have to discuss .”

“Why not? No reason to hide it. I’m honestly flattered by it. Civil rights movements don’t attract the right kind of like-minded individuals typically. Then there’s the obvious regional differences.”

“Huh? Regional differences?” Eliza tilted her head. “Have faunus here been giving you a hard time?”

“No, but that’s because I’m making zero effort to approach them. Faunus here as a whole are treated crueler than other places. An outsider like me coming in and trying to ‘relate’ never goes over smoothly.”

Eliza was surprised. She had never heard of that before. “Oh, I guess I was being a bit presumptuous. Apologies.”

“No it’s fine. It’s just one of those annoying little things. A lot of the preach about wanting a voice and equality but sing a different tune when those voices start speaking because they aren’t the ones those people had in their heads. Sigh, we faunus are fickle creatures.”

“Boy, sounds like you hate your job?”

Veronica laughed, “Haha! I wouldn’t go that far. Maybe it’s my unique circumstance but as far as my personal beliefs go, Faunus and Humans are basically the same. They both hate and judge others far too viciously due to bias. I may advocate for our rights, but I’m not above calling ourselves out. It’s probably why the elders especially don’t care for my efforts.”

Veronica turned to Eliza and smiled. “Sorry, rambled for a bit there. Hope I’m ruining your hero perception of me. That is if I am a hero to you?”

“No. Wait! I mean it’s not ruined! You’re definitely inspiring to me. So much in fact that I got a cool magazine cover of you!” It took a minute, but Eliza’s brain registered what she had just said. “I…why did I tell you that?” Eliza facepalmed.

Vee was in shock. Her jaw slowly fell open. “Wow, you are a total fangirl right now. I didn’t think you could look embarrassed. Ha, you’re adorable blushing!”

“Please don’t talk about it…”

“Can I see the magazine cover? I’ll be honest. I rarely pay attention to those puff pieces. My mom handles all that.”

“Really?” Eliza patted her pockets before pulling out her scroll. “It’s from your rally in Vale.”

Veronica had a peek. “Oh I remember this!” The picture was from a year ago. Vale’s rally was pretty huge and loud. The photo was taken right when she had stood proudly on top of a car with a megaphone, protesters following her to city hall. “Not to toot my own horn but look so cool in this.”

“It’s surprising you’ve never seen it.”

“My eyes are usually glued to my sketchbook or a threaded needle. If I’m looking at myself then it’s in the mirror to see how fabric falls onto me or someone else. Speaking of clothes, maybe I can make you an outfit? First one is free. Just wear it to an event; tell your friends about it.”

Eliza lit up, but then immediately started to cringe. “An event is no problem. However...uhhh, yeah, rain check in the whole friend part. A social butterfly, I am not. Don’t have friends.”

“Uh Nick and Summer?”

“Gross.”

Veronica could barely stop herself from laughing out loud. The speed in which Eliza answered was swift to say the least. “Wow, and I thought the twin’s aunt was blunt? Are you sure that message is clear to them, because I’m positive they think you’re a friend.”

“I’m friendly, but not a friend.”

“Do you have their number?”

“Yes.”

“Sad to say you’re their friend. Don’t fight it.”

“What!? That’s not how- what!? From what I understand you and Summer aren’t friends, but I’m positive you have her number.”

Veronica nodded. “Yeah, but that’s necessary for multiple reasons. Besides, we actively shit talk one another. I reckon you don’t. I’m not saying you three are tightly knit. Just that you’re close enough.”

Eliza folded her arms and huffed. “I suppose so. That’s...annoying.”

“Look on the bright side.” Veronica grabbed Eliza’s scroll to put her number in. “Now you aren’t alone. We can complain about their antics together.”

The grin Veronica gave Eliza made her Eliza sheepish. The abrasive girl took her scroll back. “That...sounds nice.” She laughed under her breath.

Veronica couldn’t stop examining Eliza. This girl was all over the place! It was a little funny, awkward, and yet flattering. “Is this how the twins feel meeting fans?” The young lady could get used to this.

“Your last name is Marigold right? I’m so used to such a fierce expression that seeing you like this feels a bit unusual.”

“Used to? I take it you’ve spoken to my aunt then?” Eliza lit up.

“Not really. She’s been at events my mom dragged me to before. Didn’t speak with her directly but she looked pretty interesting. Her and my mom worked together before. You both and your father have some strong genes. I bet the mom must be jealous.”

“I...doubt it.” Eliza said, her tone drifting. The smile on her face faded back to neutrality. A silent breath escaped her lips while her eyes gazed into distance. Her change in attitude didn’t go unnoticed. Veronica’s ears fell watching her.

“Shit, did I...bring up something touchy?”

“It’s okay, honestly. I just wouldn’t know how my mom feels since...I’ve never had one.”

“Oh. I had no idea. Do you wanna talk about it or…?”

“Not really. It’s really not that big of a deal. You just caught me off guard since I’m used to people knowing that part of my life.” Eliza raised both her hands and gave her face a light slap to get out of her funk. Moping about nothing is pointless. Right now she was talking to Veronica, a person she admires! This was supposed to be exciting! “Phew! That’s better. Let’s change the subject. I don’t know much when it comes to fashion, but I have read about some of your involvement in contests.”

For a moment it felt like Veronica’s body had been hit by a truck. The muscles in her body constricted at once and her stomach felt queasy. “Have you now?”

“Just a little bit. It came up from time to time when I learned about your work with your mother. I gotta say your outfits definitely have your personality. More so than some of your contestants.”

“Heh, that’s not what judges think.” Vee uttered. “Not a first place prize to my name.”

“That may be true but that doesn’t make your designs less interesting in my opinion, but I know how you feel. It stings entering contests and sometimes not even making it to the end. Still, I really thought one dress in particular had it in the bag but…” Eliza silenced herself suddenly. She had forgotten the topic of this particular contest may not be light at all. “You...got disqualified?” She finished, cringing at her own stupidity.

“Yep. I got disqualified. No medal at all for that one.”

The air felt dead. Eliza clicked her tongue. “I had forgotten that part. The article never said why though, so it stuck out to me. If..if you don’t mind-”

“I actually do, a lot.” Veronica’s sharp response made Eliza jump a little. A few people passing by took notice of the aggressive tone, making Veronica mentally kick herself. “Shit, that wasn’t supposed to be so...I’m touchy about that day.”

Eliza waved off the comment like she was the one in the wrong. “It’s fine! I should’ve known better.”

“I guess we’re both even now huh?”

“Even!? I wasn’t trying to get back at-”

“Haha, relax before your heart explodes. It was just a tease.”

Eliza’s for got red. “Oh...of course.”

“You weren’t kidding about not having friends. I thought I was bad at small talk.”

Eliza held her head down. “I’m like a dumpster fire…”

“Ha, I can see that. I guess I’m fortunate to do speeches often. Easily the savior of my social skills. My parents are great but I wouldn’t say they aren’t the most elegant people in conversations. At least not ones that aren’t in front of a camera where they have to be. In a regular conversation they are as uncoordinated as they come.”

“I can see that. Yang’s sister does live here after all. She definitely has her own way of holding a conversation.”

“Pfft, that’s one way to put it. Just shake it off. We’re all kinda tone dead I guess.” Veronica laughed. This was fun. This was actually fun. Talking casually, who would’ve thought? She grabbed her water bottle to drink.

Eliza was also having a pleasant time. She was running low on conversation starters though. There had to be something that shouldn’t go horribly wrong. That’s when it came to her…

“So your head over heels for Nick right?”

Water sprayed out of Veronica’s mouth. How did each question keep getting her!? It shouldn’t even have been that bad yet here she was, choking over the most basic thing that everyone knew! Normally she hated being touched but feeling Eliza pat her back was gladly welcomed.

If Eliza didn’t feel bad before, then she definitely did now. “I am so sorry!” her voice was so spastic it would make Summer look calm. “I told you I’m terrible at this!”

“No, agh, no… this one is me!” Veronica coughed. “Damn, that really hurt my chest. It’s like the entire gulp went down the wrong pipe!” A few more coughs and another sip of water cured the promise. Veronica rubbed her chest and tearfully looked at Eliza. “Yeah I’m into him. Why do you ask?” Her desire to act like she didn’t nearly die was strong. “Wait, don’t tell me you like him too!?”

Water wasn't the only thing that was gonna be on the floor with questions like that. Eliza made a face that looked like she may have gagged out of spite. “Ugh, not a chance.” She folded both her arms aggressively.

“Cool, that would’ve been weird.” Veronica thought. Then Eliza began rubbing her chin. That was never a good sign.

“Weeeeeell…” Eliza said.

Veronica deflated like a balloon. “Here we go…”

“Huh? No! It’s not what you think. I don’t like him like that, or much at all really. However, I can’t deny he is...charming to put mildly. I can recognize that. As a whole, I don’t like Nick that much. There’s too much that grinds my gears. That said, there is a side to him I deeply appreciate. Don’t tell him that or I’ll deny it.”

Her tidbit made Vee’s cat ears wiggle. “You gonna leave me hanging like that? Elaborate a little.”

“Really? I didn’t want to diss him in front of you or anything.”

“Tah! Nick doesn’t need anyone coming to his defense and I’m not gonna bite your head off over an opinion, most likely.” She had to add that last part. Veronica doubted Eliza was going to say something that would be unapologetically mean but you can never know what a person could say. “Speak your mind.”

Eliza looked towards the stage to watch the council president in question adjust some light equipment to put on his sister. “That boy is...selfish in the wrong way.”

That sure was an answer. Veronica tilted her head. “I...don’t follow.”

“Nicholas Schnee is a people pleaser, yet he goes out of his way to do things on his own and inefficiently. He has the qualities of a great leader but doesn’t truly lead anyone. Instead he bends over backwards. This entire concert was his idea yet he chose not to fill anybody in on this for weeks; leaving us in the dark when we could’ve been further along. All that money, trust, and influence, yet I fail to see him use it with the care I know he knows how to do. It’s so annoying! Agh, I wish I had a fraction of what his name has.”

“Sounds like to me you’re a little envious?”

“A bit, but that doesn’t change my view of him. You know him. Am I wrong?”

“I’m the last person to judge right or wrong here, but I see what you mean. Nick definitely has his faults, no argument there. I told him the other day he was a bit pushy at times and overbearing. Still, I wouldn’t say those qualities are bad. Nick is… a man on a mission.”

The administration in Veronica’s eyes was clearer than air to Eliza. “Opinions aside, his heart is good. The love he has for family and friends is undeniably. I respect that.”

“Is that the part you deeply appreciate?”

Eliza shook her head. “No, that quality is a given. The side I like is one few people see. I witnessed it for the first time at a red carpet event several years ago. It was our first time actually speaking. I stubbornly declared I’d beat him in a tournament and show everyone how beneath me he was.”

“Wow, your social skills really are rough.”

“Cut me some slack. I was fourteen and cocky. Anyways, I expected him to laugh it off and give that fake smile he gives to the public. Instead, he gave this smug smirk at me and said ‘I can’t wait.’ It was actually chilling. I could tell from his eyes that he was threatening, no, intimidating me. He had no problem letting me know he wanted to take me down, and that’s exactly what he did on tournament day. However, right before our match, Nick took me to the side to chat. It was my first tournament. The anxiety I had was a plan on my face. Instead of using that weakness, he gave me tips to calm down. Having him focus solely on me in that ring was thrilling, different from his usual self. There’s an honesty about it I like. No way somebody can be nice all the time.”

It was for that very reason Eliza knew she had to hear Nick’s offer out. Whenever that look comes out, it spells trouble for who caused it. To think the plan involved beating Valerie? What could he possibly be up to?

Veronica rubbed her chin, intrigued. “So that’s your reasoning. Hmm.” She snapped her fingers and smirked. “Masochistic.”

Eliza bugged out. Her jaw dropped and she was seconds away from protest, until the snickering from Veronica let her know she was teasing again. A smile slowly formed and Eliza playfully elbowed Vee. “Shut up.” She laughed. “Talk about a mood killer.”

Veronica stuck her tongue out before breaking out into laughter when Eliza. Hard to believe the key to being social was being kinda bad at it? It was nice making a friend. Veronica didn’t say it but they were glad to be here.

Across the room, the gym door opened. “Well look who’s having fun!?” A voice bellowe, the condescending echo gaining everyone’s attention. To many’s displeasure, it was Darren sauntering in with his silent partner Max behind him. “Sounds like a real party here. Care if I join? Maybe shake things up a little?”

The upperclassman paced like he owned the place, watching. “Hard at work for my big day?” His eyes go to the stage. “Well if it isn’t the Jester of the School!”

Nick rolled his eyes. “Very original. I’d love to hear more of this comedy act but unfortunately the gym is closed for regular students. Please take your friend and your clown makeup somewhere else.”

“Pfft, you diss like a child.”

“Said the man who called me a jester.” Be it a deity or the universe itself, people should count themselves lucky Nick had high tolerance for stupidity. Darren’s presence was grinding it down however. Punches and nearly getting a friend hit by an asshole’s car did that to an individual.

Summer could see the sparks fly between the two. Grabbing the microphone from Nick with no hesitation, Summer took the lead. Unfortunately for Darren she didn’t have her brother’s tolerance, and she was on her favorite spot in the whole world. “You’re interrupting our practice and wasting my time. Beat it.”

The gym went silent. Did everyone hear that right? Summer Schnee...was rude!? Darren blinked twice, stunned. “Excuse me but, nobody was talking to you.”

“And nobody invited you. Scram.” She shooed him away as if he was a bug.

“Now is that anyone to talk to a superior? I don’t care how famous you are or what your last name is, you little princess. You just keep singing like a little songbird; it’ll be the only good press you get that day before losing to yours truly!”

Summer out of this expression of confusion. “And your name is…? Sorry, I just have a really hard time with faces when they don’t even rank in the top five.” Multiple ‘oooos’ and chatter started going. “Is Dean? Dunce? …..Dumb and Dumber?”

Max let out a simple “Hmph” while Darren got pissed. “So you got jokes huh?” He said through his teeth. It only took one step closer before Nick immediately stepped in front of his sister. Before either could give the audience a glimpse of tournament match l, Eliza flicked the lights off and on to gain everyone’s attention.

“HEY! Knock it off, all of you.” She demanded. Darren’s gaze came her way and towards Veronica by extension. Eliza took a step between the two, stopping a problem before it could start. “Na uh, eyes on me. One word to her and I might let Principal Coal know. May I remind you that after recent behavior it would behoove you to act like a respectable upperclassman, or else-”

“Hey hey hey there, little one, I just came in here to mingle a little; shoot the breeze and all. I’m not the one who got all bent out of shape and started insulting people. Ain’t that right Max?”

Unbothered, Max put his hands behind his head. “That is what happened; dumb jokes or not.”

“Yeah that’s- hey! You aren’t talking about my jokes are you!?”

Eliza took a deep breath. “Consider the breeze shot to hell. Now if you would kindly be on your way so-”

“Uuuugh, you’re so boring, acting like a lifeless doll and shit. Even her frail and tone deaf highness behind me showed some backbone for once.”

“Tone deaf!?” Summer yelled. She would’ve thrown her microphone if Nick didn’t take it from her. “Oh I really hope your bite is at least half as good as your bite. This ‘Princess’ thinks you deserve a public beat down for the world to see, personally delivered!”

“See you at the tournament!” Nick added.

Darren pointed behind himself. “See? At least they’re interesting.”

“If getting egged on by your limp insults is what you want then why should I even bother?” Eliza stepped to the side. “Best be on your way. You can earn my wrath whenever you feel man enough to enter a solo tournament instead of hiding behind your partner.”

“Oh yeah?” Darren glared. “Tough talk from a-” The back of his shirt was pulled by Max.

“Time to go. You’ve had your fun, and I’m getting a headache. No use talking. Let the tournament do all the bragging.” Max began dragging Darren to the exit until Darren brushed him off to walk himself. He gave Eliza one last pissed off look before giving a smug face as he walked away. “Tsk, drug baby.” He mumbles.

Loud footsteps and the sound of metal clanged behind him. Darren quickly turned around, ready for a fight. “Well I guess you can get ma-”He didn’t move. What he thought was Eliza losing her cool was actually her defending him with her baton from a very pissed heir with an Arma Gigas.

“He’s quicker than he looks.” Max grabbed Darren again and all but tossed him out the gym before any actions became an incident.

“Care to tell me why you wanna fight my battles?” Eliza complained.

“I’m not fighting your battles. My patience just got a little restless.” Nick unsummoned his blade and walked away. Thoughts of last night suddenly came to mind, making him sigh. “Sorry. Overstepped a bit. I’m gonna cool off.” He groaned.

Eliza rubbed the back of her head. That was...off. Nick must’ve been more ticked off by Darren than she was aware of. “Just don’t get so jumpy. The last thing I need is you not being able to kick his ass because you got suspended.”

“Haha yes ma’am.”

Eliza clapped her hands loudly. “Okay everyone! Get back to business!” She shouted, returning everything to normal. Thank the gods for at least giving Eliza cooperative staff members. Her body slumped over. Why can’t any event be peaceful! Damn that Darren! Now she wished he was in the solo bracket. Her head lifted to look at Veronica. “I take it if Nick heard that then so did you?”

“Little bit. I can pretend I didn’t. Makes no difference to me.”

“Don’t sweat it. Who likes beading around the bush anyways? You asked about my mom earlier. Now you basically know. To make a long story short, my dad in his younger years spent his money in...less than responsible ways. Who needs love when there’s plenty of clubs and corners with people looking to make a quick buck? My mother just so happened to get a little more than just lien.”

Veronica’s face scrunched up. “Yikes. That’s a lot to unpack.”

“Not really. Never had a mom so it’s not like I’m yearning for a connection when there never was one to start with. One day my dad noticed her pregnant and like you said before, I have strong features. A woman parading around with no home, every drug under the sun, and a potential baby that looked like the CEO of a company one kingdom above is a recipe for ruin. Many board members thought it best for my father to deny anything and everything. Apparently a few of them along with some kind individuals thought it best to move my mother in with him. This way the baby, me, would at the very least be healthy.”

“What about your mother?”

“Ultimatum. Fall in line with this new society and learn to act like a high class citizen, or take a generous amount of money to keep quiet. I don’t look like her so spinning a story wouldn’t do her well, and high class society didn’t mean she could get high any hour of the day. Took the money and never looked back. Tabs were kept on her for a while but she eventually became white noise among the gutter trash of Mantle. A druggie with tons of cash is never good. Most likely ended up in a gutter from overdose or somebody who caught wind of her spending habits.”

“Eliza that’s...I’m sorry that happened.”

“Eh, I’m not losing sleep over it. Not like I got a bad deal either. Contrary to what people might say about my name, my father is a decent man and cares for me as well. He’s by no means perfect but who is? Aunt May told me once that if nothing else, my dad doesn’t make problems bigger than what they have to be. I didn’t ask to be born, so resenting me would be shallow. We get along and that’s all that matters family wise. Though...it’s not like he got a raw deal out of it.” Eliza conjured a small flame in her hand. “He took the high road and learned he got Remnant’s first magical daughter in ages. Talk about good karma.”

“Way to look at the positives.” Veronica said.

Eliza put out the flame. “It’s just the facts. Unfortunately rumors floated and not all people were happy with the decision, so little tidbits here and there got learned. As you can see with Darren’s mouth almost getting him into trouble. The only thing bigger than his mouth is his ego.”

“Yeah, I’m familiar with his type.” Veronica said with annoyance. She was too familiar with it.

“Anywho, I should get back to practice. Thanks for chit chatting. And people say it’s bad to meet your heroes and stuff. I guess they’re meeting the wrong ones.”

“I wouldn’t go that far. I mean I’m pretty rad but you know...modesty and all that. I’m no Blake Belladonna or Yang Xiao Long. Just little ol’ me.” Veronica chuckled. “See ya around?”

“Sooner than you might think.” Eliza twirled her baton and went on her way.

Veronica watched the girl leave. No wonder Nick chose Eliza to be the one to keep an eye on her. She was tough as nails; with or without the uniform! A shame Darren outed her like that. Veronica felt a little dirty learning something Eliza didn’t want to tell her. Veronica was surprised that Eliza didn’t ask for her to return the favor. Then again, it would’ve been pointless. Veronica knew herself. She wouldn’t say a word regardless of fairness. She might have even lied. The girl let out a sigh, taking a moment to look down at herself before heading back to practice. Some things are just better left unsaid.

#rwby #rwby twin snowflakes #nicholas schnee #summer schnee #eliza marigold #veronica belladonna #darren diabhalta #max winchester

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illfoandillfie · 4 years

Text

5 Simple Rules for a Successful Fake Relationship: One Small Hitch

READ PART 1

Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader

summery: You and Ben have your first official date and settle into your "relationship". But, with filming coming to a close, you'll need to be more committed to the act than before, especially when Ben's keeping secrets.

Warnings: Again, nothing much. Some language. Drinking. Nothing else I can think of.

Words: 8355

AN: Chapter 2 is finally here! Sorry for the delay but hopefully the next part will be up faster. I'm really really enjoying writing this series and I am so very excited about what's coming! The song mentioned is Reckless Serenade by Arctic Monkeys. Sidenote: Can anyone work out the theme of the chapter titles?

Taglist: @laedymoon @dtfrogertaylor @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @supersonicfreddie

“I’ve got something for you,” you half shouted at Ben when you saw him walking towards you from across the field you were filming in. You shuffled your shitty takeaway coffee into your other hand so you could reach into your bag, pulling out a piece of paper folded in half. He took it and pulled you into a hug, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Funny cause I have something for you too,” Ben said as he let you go, reaching into his backpack and handing you a magazine, “Oh, shit, it’s our rules. You want page 15 by the way.” “Figured you’d want a record of them. What exactly am I looking f-” you let the word hang as you found the right page. It was decorated with a photo of you and Ben kissing on his doorstep, his hand around your back, the shirt you’d borrowed riding up just enough that it was clear you didn’t have shorts on underneath as you clutched at him. There was some text beside it, mentions of your most notable roles and his, a brief description of the movie you were in the process of making, and some speculatory remarks with a couple of innuendos thrown in. The usual gossip mag fare. On the other side of the paragraph was another photo, both of you leaving set the previous Friday, hand in hand and smiling. “We look pretty good together,” you laughed, getting only a noncommittal grunt in return. He’d suddenly become very interested in the sheet you’d handed him, staring at it like he hadn’t been there when it was written. You reread the brief article, trying not to gawk at the photographs. It certainly looked believable. “I’ve had about four people wish us well this morning,” Ben suddenly said, seemingly pulling himself together, folding up the rules and shoving them into his back pocket, “and I’ve not been here long. It’s kinda weird having everyone know we’re together. Or think we’re together,” he quickly corrected himself. “Yeah, Mel kept asking me questions about it while she was doing my makeup this morning, so I hope she took my awkwardness as me wanting to keep things private and not me not knowing how to answer some of them.” Ben chuckled, “yeah, Gail gave me a bit of a grilling too. I just told her we’d been sort of seeing each other for a few weeks and had only just like made it official or whatever and she seemed to buy it.” “Good, I told Mel the same sort of thing. Hopefully that’s enough for them.” “I’m more concerned with what my friends are going to say. I don’t think any of them read Heat though so hopefully it doesn’t come up any time soon,” “Lucky. My friend Felicity has the dumb site bookmarked. Checks it religiously. Bloody miracle she hasn’t called yet.” “Better turn of your phone then,” “And come back to a full voicemail and about a hundred texts demanding to know why I’m ghosting her?” “Tell her you were filming. I do it all the time,” he was grinning at you and you couldn’t help but grin back as you pulled your phone out and shut it off, “atta girl,” he pulled you into his side and gave you an affectionate squeeze that you leaned into , fully aware of how many people were around you, potentially watching. It was a feeling that didn’t really let up. You knew, rationally, that everyone there was focused on their jobs, but you couldn’t help feeling like you were constantly being scrutinised, and not just for your acting. It didn’t help when Seth had to stop recording to fix a problem with the boom mic and, good-humouredly, said, “don’t worry lovebirds, we’ll have her running in a second.” Or that one of the ADs delivered your call sheets for the next day with a, “I always thought you’d be cute together.” And it certainly didn’t help when you turned your phone on at the end of the day to find a series of texts from Felicity each with more exclamation points and capital letters than the last, and a missed call from Mary. “Better call her back,” Ben said, following you towards the carpark. You rolled your eyes, already holding the phone up to your ear listening to it ring. “Y/N, I was just about to try you again,” “Sorry, Mary, I had my phone off while we were recording, what’s the matter?” “Are you free this weekend?” “Um yeah, I think so, why?” “We’d like for you and Ben to go on a date this weekend. Somewhere in London preferably but it’s up to you. You saw the article in Heat? It seems to be going well. The hits your names have got on google have increased and there have been a few tweets about it. Nothing huge, you’re not trending or anything but you’re still relatively unknown so we weren’t expecting that to happen, certainly not overnight. But we think if we get a date story out quickly it’ll really help get people interested.” You rubbed your temple as you tried to process everything she’d just said, “Okay, I’ll talk to him and we’ll organise something. I’ll text you the details once I have them.” “Okay, let me know as soon as you can though. And send Peter the info too.” “Will do. See ya Mary.” “Was that about me?” Ben asked, smiling as he leaned against your car. “You up for a date this weekend? Apparently the first story went well and they want a follow up ASAP.” “Sure, where are we going?” “I don’t know, somewhere around London would apparently be best, but we get to choose. Any thoughts?” He thought for a moment, “This isn’t our first date is it? Like, we’ve said we’ve been on others before, right?” “Yeah, why?” “Well normally for a first date I take girls out for dinner and then, depending on the girl and how the dinner went, either a quiet drink or like a romantic as fuck walk in the park or something.” “That’s pretty standard stuff, Ben,” “Yeah, but in the fiction of us as a couple, this isn’t our first date. This’d be, what?” “Fifth maybe?” “Fifth. So I’m still trying to impress you a bit, but it’s like, more relaxed. We’ve done the dinner date, we’ve done coffee and a movie, we’ve even done the Museum. Now we’re getting into the fun shit.” “Museums don’t count as fun shit?” you chuckled, not sure where his train of thought was taking you. “It’s a bit overdone is all.” ��What do you have in mind then?” “There’s this place that runs art classes during the day, right? Life drawing or like painting for beginner's type stuff. But a couple of nights a week they run these art and wine nights. They’ll give you a canvas or a ceramic figure or something like that and some paints and you can have a few drinks and do something arty. I did it with some mates a while ago, had heaps of fun. Seemed like the sort of thing yo- a girl might like to do on a date.” “That definitely sound fun.” “Really? You’re into it?” “Yeah, for sure.” “Okay,” Ben pulled out his phone and began typing, “shall I book us in for the Saturday night ceramics session?” “Go ahead. What time was that, so I can let Mary and Peter know.” “Seven thirty. If we get a cab in a little earlier we can grab something to eat on our way.” “Cool, okay I’ll text them. Is it BYO?” “Yeah. They do sell some stuff but it’s a pretty small selection.” “Okay, well that’s something to look forward to. Anyway, I should be going since I have about a million texts to sort through, I’ll see you tomorrow.” “Wait, one thing,” Ben said before you could open your car door, “There’s a few people coming off set now so I’m going to kiss you, okay?” “Thanks for the heads up,” “No worries,” he stepped closer, his hand rising to cup your cheek as he kissed you softly. He took longer to break away than you’d expected, letting the kiss deepen instead, but you didn’t mind too much. It was a good kiss. And if it hadn’t been for Ben and the movie, you would have been severely lacking them recently. Which explained the vague feeling of disappointment that hit you when he did step back.

On your way home your phone beeped with another text from Felicity but you ignored it until you were inside and changed into the comfiest clothes you could find, flopping down on your bed to scroll through what she’d written. They varied from, “omg why didn’t you tell me about this Ben guy?” to “Y/N!!! Answer my texts!!!” all the way up to, “BITCH!!! CALL ME!!!!” She picked up on the first ring. “Where the fuck have you been all day?” “Some of us don’t have office jobs we hate,” you laughed, “I actually had to work, funnily enough, and because we were on location I had to keep my phone off while we recorded.” “Well I’ve been going crazy over here. Imagine my shock when I boot up my computer and open Heat and see your fucking arse being grabbed by your co-star.” “He was not grabbing my arse.” “Close enough. You didn’t tell me how fucking gorgeous he is.” “No, well, I don’t usually think about the people I work with like that, do I?” “Which is why I was so surprised to see you’ve shacked up with one of them.” “It’s not quite that serious.” “One night stands aren’t your usual thing. Definitely not with guys you work with anyway.” “I never said it was a one night stand, just that it wasn’t super serious!” “How many times then?” “We’ve been on like four dates.” “You fuckhead! You mean to tell me you’re actually dating this guy, who by the way looks like he could be a fucking underwear model, and you didn’t think to tell me? No so much as a I got dicked down by a total babe aren’t you jealous message?” “I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it if it wasn’t going to go anywhere.” “But still, I’m your best friend, I tell you about every shag I have.” “In graphic detail,” “Exactly.” “Look it’s just a bit weird still. Neither of us have really hooked up with a co-star before and we didn’t want to say anything until we worked out what was happening.” “I guess that makes sense,” you could tell she didn’t mean it, “But, now that it’s out you owe me. I want to hear all about it.” “There’s not much to tell. We became quite good friends during all the pre-production stuff when we were rehearsing and all that. Our director wanted to make sure we clicked and had the right chemistry and stuff, since it’s a romcom and our characters get engaged in the first scene, so we hung out a lot. And then just before filming started he asked me out. Took me to this nice Chinese restaurant. It was fun so we agreed to go out again and it’s sort of just kept going.” “Those photos, was that the first time you’d stayed over at his?” “Second. First time was a couple of weeks ago. The night that led to the photos was just a few drinks after work with some of the others and we ended up ducking out a bit early and wound up at his.” “And?” “And what?” You had a hard time not laughing when you heard her groan. Her eagerness to know every sordid detail made her easy to fuck with, and that made the whole business of being secretive a lot more fun. “And, how was he?” “I mean…y’know,” “Y/N, I swear to god,” “He was good, okay? Really good,” you remembered what Ben had told you to say, trying not to laugh too much while you repeated it, “like, three orgasms good.” “Shit, really?” “Uhuh. And then another in the morning.” Felicity replied with a long whistle, “shit, girl, hold onto that one then. That’s definitely worth any trouble working together could cause." “Believe me, I know. We’re going out again this weekend.” It was surprisingly easy to lie about dating Ben. Though, of course, you weren’t technically lying since you would be going on a date. “Shit man, date five. That’s serious shit. You better tell me everything, in graphic detail.”

When you told Ben about the conversation the next day, admitting you’d spent ages praising his sexual prowess, he laughed and then thanked you, pulling you into a tight bear hug. You thought it was a slight overreaction considering he’d been the one to tell you what to say but his happiness was infectious, and you found yourself smiling more than normal as you hung out between scenes. An attitude which could only help your performance, making people more ready to believe you were a couple. His easy laughter and bright smiles continued until the afternoon when you were telling him more about Felicity and what you’d talked about. “She thinks you’re a keeper and kept telling me not to let you go.” “Your friend knows what she’s talking about.” “Lucky for you I can’t let you go since it’s all written up in a contract,” Ben laughed but when you glanced at him his smile seemed to falter. “You okay?” “Brilliant. Just had a bit of a late night and it’s catching up on me. Think I might try to have a quick nap before we’re needed again.” “I was thinking of grabbing another coffee if you want one?” “Thanks Y/N but I think the nap will do me more good.” “Probably better people don’t see us heading off to a trailer together anyway or they’ll suspect we’re getting up to mischief.” “Very true. I’ll see you a bit later.” “Sleep well!” Ben turned to leave, his smile seeming more forced than earlier. You would have worried except he seemed to be back to normal when he was called for your next scene. And it continued on through the week, his happiness only getting more pronounced the closer it got to the weekend.

You couldn’t quite match his energy on Friday, anxiety over your date getting stronger the closer you got to it. Hanging out at his place had been easy, even if it did include leaving half dressed. All you’d had to do was kiss him which you’d done enough times during filming that it was no longer too odd. But a proper date was something else. It was going to be the first real test you faced, the first time you’d really have to sell yourselves to the public as more than co-stars and more than a hook-up. “Hey are you okay?” “Huh?” “Your jiggling your leg a lot which you only do when something’s worrying you, what is it?” “Oh,” you forced your leg to stop moving, “nothing,” “Is it about our date tonight?” “What if it’s bad? What if we don’t look like we’re actually together and Mary and Pete have to cancel the whole thing?” “I’d get a decent night sleep not thinking about us,” he muttered. “What?” “I’ve been worried about it too,” he said louder, “but I think we’ll be okay. It’s not like we’ll be starved for conversation and we’ll have the paint and the wine and we’ll be fine. Plus, weren’t you the one who said this would be easy?” “Yeah I was,” you said sheepishly, “but -” “No buts. It’ll be a piece of cake. We go and have a good time painting a couple of plates or bowls or whatever, and then hold hands while we head home. They’ll get whatever shots they get, and they’ll spin it so we look like a couple.” “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry,” “It’s okay,” he reached out to rub the back of your hand, smiling softly at you, “the nerves might actually help you look like you’re legit. And worst comes to worst we can always run lines. I’m honestly so much more nervous about shooting that scene tomorrow.” “The one where we’re playing matchmaker?” “Yes! Have you seen how many names are in there?” “Theres like six, Ben,” “Yeah but they’re all repeated, and I know I’m going to get the order wrong,” You giggled and shook your head, “You’re unbelievable,” “Oh whatever,” he pushed your shoulder almost making you overbalance, “Just cos you know the lines already.”

Ben’s efforts to calm you down worked and you got through the rest of the workday without a hitch. Though your stomach was once again tight with nerves in the hours before the date. You spent a solid half hour standing in front of your wardrobe, freshly washed hair slowly dripping down the back of the towel you had wrapped around you, trying to settle on what to wear. When you were finally dressed you checked and rechecked the contents of your purse, and, in a moment of panic, you grabbed the heavily highlighted and notated script pages with the matchmaker scene and shoved them in beside your lipstick and bank card. By the time Ben arrived in an Uber to pick you up, ushering you into the backseat with a kiss on the cheek and a complement about how lovely you looked, you felt like you were on the verge of throwing up. But, once again, Ben’s natural charm eased your mind. The way he talked to you and smiled constantly had your heart rate slowing and your stomach settling within minutes. Even the way he squeezed your hand when he helped you out of the car, and the way he laced his fingers with yours as he led you towards your destination were welcome comforts. “D’you wanna grab something to eat?” Ben asked, stopping on a corner and looking around, annoyed people passing by on both sides. “Uhh, s’pose so.” “Has anyone ever told you you’re indecisive?” “I swear I’m not normally.” “Oh? Do I make you nervous, snookum?” he asked, playfully. “No, you git,” you laughed back, though you found it hard to meet his eyes, “I just don’t know I’m that hungry.” “Well, keep in mind there’ll be wine drinking. Don’t want to do that on an empty stomach.” “Valid argument. What’s nearby?” After some wandering you ended up in a McDonalds, Ben wolfing down a burger while you picked at the fries, not quite certain you’d be able to keep your food down. It was when you were coming out of a bottle shop, Ben holding the wine you’d agreed on, that you spotted the photographer. It was the same one who’d been outside Ben’s house when you stayed over, camera aimed at the two of you. Quietly you nudged Ben. He just wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into his side as you walked. You struggled to not watch the photographer as he followed you towards the art studio, having to keep reminding yourself to pretend he wasn’t there. “Relax,” Ben said softly in your ear, “He’s not important.” You nodded, afraid if you said anything you’d lose the meagre dinner you’d had. Ben’s thumb rubbing over your own gave you something else to focus on, counting each soft, smooth stroke, until you reached the right place.

You weren’t the only couple there, far from it. Most of the claimed tables were taken by pairs sitting close together, hands clasped or laying on thighs as they talked. A few tables held larger groups, double dates maybe or perhaps just friends. You felt a few eyes on you as you found a table close to the clear glass of the shopfront, but they turned away again quickly, more interested in their own little bubbles than yours. You glanced outside to check if the photographer was still there but couldn’t see much more than the reflection of you and Ben. His knee bumped yours under the table as he leaned toward you, pressing a finger to your jaw to turn your head towards him. “Forget the photographer. Forget Mary and Peter. Forget our arrangement. We're just two friends having a fun night out, okay?” “Okay,” “Okay. So what are you thinking of painting then?” He unscrewed the bottle of wine and grabbed one of the glasses you’d been handed on arrival. “Well what are my options?” “Well there’s your classic teacup, mug or plate options. There’s a couple of different jewellery boxes, I think. And then there are the statues, ummm, fairy, dragon, alien. Maybe a princess one, I can’t remember.” “More than I thought there’d be. What were you thinking?” “I did a dragon last time I was here. But I think I’m going to do a mug this time. Need some extras if you’re gonna be staying over more often.” “Maybe we should both do mugs, then? Something we can use at each other’s places.” “Alright, deal. But we can’t look at what the other is painting until they’re done.” “That’s going to be so hard!” you laughed, feeling properly relaxed for the first time all night. “Yeah but it’ll be fun though. Wait here, I’ll go grab us the mugs.” You took the opportunity to look around the room, trying to think of what Ben might like on a mug. There was art everywhere – paintings hanging on walls, examples of what the classes could teach you, decorated ceramics lining windowsills and shelves. Judging by the wildly differing levels of talent displayed, you assumed at least some of them were left behind and never claimed. There were plates decorated with fruit trees and ocean scenes, jugs covered in splatters of different colours, aliens in shimmery blue and princesses with green hair and orange dresses. But nothing that sparked your imagination. The noise of the room was steadily growing as everyone got stuck into their creations. Ben sat down, took a drink and got to work mixing colours. “You know what you’re going to do then?” “I have an idea. But I will warn you I’m not a particularly good artist so it might not look anything like what it’s meant to.” You picked up your blank mug and put it down again, tapping the end of a paintbrush against the table as you tried to come up with an idea. What did Ben like? He liked coffee. And dogs. And his guitar. More than once he’d brought it to set, playing it in his downtime. He’d been embarrassed the first time you mentioned overhearing him as you passed by his trailer, but you’d assured him you’d liked listening to him. You’d had the song stuck in your head for a week afterwards. “Made up your mind, have you?” Ben asked, glancing up from his handiwork as you mixed a pale peach colour. “No peeking,” “I wasn’t peeking. If I’d been peeking, I would have done this,” Ben craned his neck, leaning over to where your mug was. You laughed and pulled the mug closer to you, pushing him away with your other hand. He caught it in his own, taking the paintbrush from you, “Oi, careful with that.” “Oops, sorry,” Ben laughed and kissed your palm before letting you have your hand back, “No harm done. But y’know if you splattered me I’d have no choice but to get payback.” There was no need to reach for the script you’d brought as you and Ben fell into conversation while you painted. He asked if you’d had any more awkward phone calls with your friends and told you about what had happened when his mates had found out. Nothing like the conversation you’d endured, though there’d been plenty of teasing. You had to admonish him for nearly getting paint on your work when he began using the largest brush he had to artistically spray drops of paint over his mug. And then he’d laughed when you paused, admitting out loud that you weren’t actually sure how to paint the thing you’d planned on painting. He’d promised not to peek while you whipped out your phone to look up a reference image, going to far as to cover his eyes just to make sure. Once you gave him the okay he went back to painting, switching to a thinner brush and shushing you so he could concentrate. It was ridiculous how cute he looked, tongue between his teeth, bent over the mug as he slowly outlined the design. You shook your head to clear the thought and went back to your own work.

“Okay, I’m done. You wanna see now?” “Yes, absolutely. Unless you think we should wait until after they’ve been glazed?” “Fuck that, we can’t pick them up for a couple of days, I wanna show you now.” “Alright, show me then,” you put down your brush, focusing all your attention onto the mug in Ben’s hands. The base coat was a light purple, with splatters of darker purple over top. Slowly he turned the mug to show you the design on the front. It bore a slightly wonky engagement ring, similar to the one his character gave yours in the movie. On either side of the ring, in thin, not quite straight lettering, was the words we’re really good at this dating thing. You smiled as soon as you read the quote from the script, “I love it, Ben” “Thought it was kind of fitting,” he chuckled, “plus it’ll be a nice little souvenir once the movie wraps.” “That was a fun scene to shoot. Best proposal I’ve ever had.” Ben smiled and carefully turned his mug back towards him, “Best proposal I’ve ever given,” He seemed to be about to say something but stopped himself, shaking his head. You lowered your voice, “Promise I’ll get to keep it after we break up?” “Promise,” Ben said, matching your level and leaning in close, “Until then maybe you can use it as a reminder whenever you feel anxious about this whole dating thing.” “Thanks, I will.” You were suddenly very aware of how softly you were speaking, how close you were sitting, leaning in to hear each other over the rest of the room, and for a split second you thought he was going to kiss you again. But then the moment passed, the noise of the room intruding as Ben leaned back in his seat, “So do I get to see mine?” “Uh, it’s not quite done,” you said, picking up your brush again, the moment gone, “give me another couple of minutes.” “Masterpieces take time, I get it,” “This is by no stretch a masterpiece,” “I’ll be the judge of that thanks very much,” Ben turned to look out over the room while you tried to finish your painting without smudging anything, occasionally making comments about other people there or the art that decorated the room. You took one last look at what you’d painted, the guitar with the words stun gun lullaby written in cursive beside it, “Alright, I’m done now, you can look. Careful, some of it’s still wet.” Ben gently took hold of the handle and turned the mug so the design faced him. He broke out into a grin and you felt relieved that he liked it. “It’s definitely a masterpiece. For someone who didn’t know how to draw a guitar you’ve done an incredible job. And how did you know that’s one of my favourite songs?” “Is it? It's just the song I overheard you playing that one time. I thought that line was a good one for a mug. Nice and short so I didn’t have to paint too much.” “This is definitely my new favourite mug.” “Oh stop it.” “And hey, they kind of match.” You laughed when he pointed out the similarities, “Guess they do. Y’know that’d make a pretty cute Instagram post.” “You going to tag me as my mug?” “Of course. You could post a photo and tag me in it too,” “I don’t know. I don’t really post much personal stuff online.” “Well at least comment on mine,” “I can do that.”

After you’d taken a decent photo and posted it online you cleaned up, handed your mugs over to the woman running the night’s activity and stepped back out into the night. There was no sign of the photographer anywhere and you supposed he’d got what he needed and then left. Still, Ben grabbed your hand as you walked back up the street, just in case you’d missed the photographer in the crowd. “Guess that means we don’t have to worry about going home together,” you said, nudging Ben. “Guess not,” his lips quirked down in a soft frown.” “What is it?” “Nothing, nothing, just...feels kind of weird to just end the date here, I guess,” he scratched the back of his head and laughed, “Normally I’d offer to give you a lift home. Or at least give you a good night kiss, but I guess that’s not really needed now.” “Well, it’s like you said, we’re just friends having a fun night out. We could share a ride home though, if you wanted. You live near enough to mine it wouldn’t matter.” “Nah, don’t worry about it. I actually might go grab something to eat, don’t think that burger was quite enough. See you on Monday?” “Oh, yeah, okay, see you Monday.” There was a pause, both of you hesitating and then Ben gave you a much too quick hug before he walked off, disappearing into the crowd. You sighed and hailed a passing cab, spending the whole ride home wondering what the hell had just happened. But you pushed it from your mind once you were home, going through your usual nightly routine and very deliberately thinking of anything other than Ben. It didn’t help much. You still dreamt about him. Dreamt about the goodnight kiss you’d missed out on.

When you woke you had to laugh at yourself. You were sure that, had you binged a few episodes of a tv show or read something before you’d gone to bed you would have dreamt about it instead. Brains were suggestable like that. When you felt awake enough you rolled over and grabbed your phone finding a text from Ben and one from Felicity and an email from Mary. You opened Mary’s first, skimming over it and vowing to look at it properly once you had a coffee in your system. Ben’s was much easier to understand, a short message to say he had fun last night and that he’d pick the mugs up on his way to work on Monday. Felicity’s was just a series of question marks. You sent back a short response saying the date had been a lot of fun. It wasn’t enough and she was bound to come back at you asking for more details, but it would have to satisfy her. Slowly you got out of bed and made yourself a coffee, setting your laptop up next to you at the kitchen counter so you could try to read Mary’s email again. There was some information about some scripts she was going to send you, a couple of potential future roles, but the majority of the email was about you and Ben. She’d already seen the photos, apparently, and some of them would be run in the coming week’s magazine while others were being put online. She’d also seen the Instagram post and commended you for thinking of it. Another date would have to be organised, but it was better to wait until the next weekend or even the one after, so as not to fatigue the public.

So you and Ben fell into the routine of it. An email from one or other of your agents sometimes as vague as just telling you to organise a date, sometimes much more specific in what they wanted you to be doing, then the date itself, and in between work where you played up the romance as much as possible. You got good at pretending to stay over at each other's places, often just hanging out watching TV or running lines until the photographer called it a night and you were free to leave. Once or twice you’d opted to sleep in your own bed but get up early and head over to Ben’s for the required morning after shots but that process got old very quickly so you ended up actually staying over more and more. There was one day when your period came unexpectedly while you were at Ben’s. You were halfway through asking him to take you home when he offered to run to the store for you instead. “No, no, you don’t have to go out of your way like that, I’ve got plenty at home I just didn’t think I’d need any today.” “Y/N, I promise, it’s no trouble. I feel bad I don’t have anything here for you already. Been a while since I’ve lived with a girl and it didn’t even cross my mind. Seriously, it’ll take me two minutes.” When you still weren’t convinced he continued, “Plus, if I go we won’t ruin Peter and Mary’s plan for today. And the Paps can get a shot of me staring at boxes of tampons like a good caring boyfriend. It’ll help our image.” “Oh alright, as long as you don’t mind.” He was out the door a second later and back within ten minutes, though you did get a call from him at the shop, asking what brand you preferred. Once he was home, he made you a cup of tea, gave you a painkiller and, after checking you didn’t mind, cuddled up with you on the couch, teasingly calling you his cuddle bunny as he pulled you back against his chest. You almost complained, almost cited Rule 5, but it wasn’t so bad. Some might even go so far as to call it cute. It was better than snookum at any rate.

The dates themselves got easier after the first. You knew what to expect now so it wasn’t as nerve wracking as before. And Ben was always fun to be around, your list of inside jokes steadily growing as he became the one person you spent the most time with. You let yourselves relax a bit. On your third date Ben’s arm stayed glued around your waist as you walked around the zoo, only losing contact when a lemur jumped on his shoulder and you stepped back to take a photo. It wasn’t low enough to violate the rules you’d put in place but his hand was dangerously close to falling below your belt, and it was definitely something you would have put a stop to when you first started the charade. The Instagram posts had got more frequent too, though Ben still refused to post anything to his own profile. But he commented on everything you posted whether it involved him or not. And people were buying it. You’d been moved from page 15 to page 13 and then to page 10 in the magazines. You both picked up more followers online as your photos were shared across Twitter and Facebook and Tumblr. There were some downsides like rude comments and nasty messages but mostly they were easy to ignore. Worse were the phone calls and messages from family members and friends asking when they’d get to meet Ben. He’d had to fend off his own family as well, but you both stuck to Rule 4, making up excuses and promising it would happen eventually, but it just wasn’t possible right now. But your biggest problem was the issue of intimacy. It wasn’t the lack of sex itself, that was easily managed. It was that Ben had started to intrude on your fantasies. You’d be there with your fingers or your toys and suddenly it was Ben’s voice you were thinking of, Ben’s hands, Ben’s teeth and tongue and chest. Ben’s name falling from your lips. And you knew it was just because you were pretending to date him, on and off set. It was the dumb suggestable brain thing again. The thoughts were only there because you were pretending to be in love with him and usually sex was tied up with love or at least relationships. And really, you hadn’t been attracted to anyone much lately because you hadn’t been looking because you’d been pretending to be attracted to Ben so it’s really no wonder you’re brain got all confused and mixed him into those other thoughts. The first time you saw him after it first happened you wondered if he could tell, a slightly flustered awkwardness hanging over you. But it wasn’t worth mentioning to anyone. You just vowed to push him out of your mind as much as you could.

Nearly two months later you found yourselves back in the office where the idea of pretending to date was first floated. With filming drawing to a close Mary and Peter were keen to check in with you. The first thing either of them said when you and Ben turned up is how well the story was going. “Projections have the sales for this movie increased by five percent, just because of your relationship and that number is expected to grow as we get closer to release,” Mary spoke fast though whether that was excitement at the boosted numbers or just a busy schedule rushing her along you weren’t sure. “What happens now?” Ben asked, “I mean, since we won’t be filming together anymore after this week,” “That’s exactly why we wanted to talk with you both today,” Peter opened a pocket notebook and thumbed through a couple of pages, “so not much will change but we may occasionally need to balance out the loss of on set photos with shots of you out and about together. Nothing stressful and all very easily staged. You probably wouldn’t even need to be out for more than an hour or so at a time. People have been loving the domestic sort of photos you’ve been putting online, Y/N, that one of you using the coffee mugs you painted was especially good. So we’d like a few more of those sorts of moments. The two of you grocery shopping or walking a dog, do either of you have a dog? No? Hmmm, we could hire a dog and write a story about you sitting for a friend. We’ll put a pin in that for now. But yes, just some candid shots of you walking around London and doing regular everyday things together.” “We’ll also need to schedule the argument soon. We’re thinking somewhere within the first two weeks of filming being over. It means we can run speculation about whether the relationship is on the rocks now that you aren’t working together anymore. We’ll see how things go this week and make some decisions later, but we’ll give you plenty of warning before you have to perform it. Obviously, it has to be scheduled so we can guarantee someone will get photos but we need it to seem as natual as possible so we’ll leave the specifics of the argument up to you.” You nodded along but Ben had more questions. “What does this mean for any jobs we might be looking at taking after this movie wraps?” “You can still take on whatever roles you want provided they’re filming here. It’s harder to keep you in the public eye if you’re separated and while the drama of a long-distance relationship might be interesting at first, it’s not sustainable.” “If it was filming somewhere else in the UK we could maybe organise something. We’d have to look into it and see if it was possible to stick to our same plan but just shift the location. Maybe have a weekend visit angle to it, Y/N flies out to see Ben, Ben comes home to see Y/N, that kind of thing.” “Leave it with us Ben and we’ll get back to you on the logistics of it all.” “Oh, that’s okay, I don’t have anything set in stone, I was just curious.” “Is there anything else you have questions about?” “No, I don’t think so,” He looked towards you. “No, I’m all good.” “Okay, well, if you think of anything you can message us any time.” “Really, though, this is going very well. It’s already paying off but we need to keep the momentum during the post-production phase, so we need you both to be committed to this.” “We are.” “Unbelievably committed,” Ben added.

You and Ben left the meeting joking about potential arguments you could have and for the rest of the day, whenever you passed each other in the halls or had a moment alone you’d try to one up each other's suggestions. It was a good way to keep your spirits up even though the end of filming was fast approaching. One by one each cast member recorded their last scenes, saying an emotional thank you to the crew when the director called cut. You and Ben were the last to finish since you were the leads. A small pillow talk scene that you could do in your sleep. It was a nice way to end it, lying in bed with Ben’s arms around you, even with the heat of the studio lights. While you were waiting for the cameras to be positioned you and Ben joked around with the crew that were flitting around angling mics and adjusting set decorations. “Hey, Seth,” Ben said suddenly, “can you pass me my phone. I think we need to document this moment. What d’you say, cuddle bunny?” You laughed and poked him in the side but agreed. Ben stuck his arm straight up into the air, trying to angle the camera just right but he couldn’t quite get the photo to take without blurring. Seth took pity on you and offered to take the photo himself, allowing you and Ben to snuggle in close. “If you post it on Insta you better credit me,” Set laughed, turning it round to show you. “I’ll do that,” He said with a smile, “It’s pretty cute, I think I have to post it.” “Really?” you asked, surprised he’d volunteer to do such a thing. Ben didn’t have a chance to respond because everything was ready to go. Seth put the phone back away so you could film the scene, laughing in between takes until everyone was satisfied. “That’s a wrap on Ben Hardy and Y/N Y/L/N everybody,” A round of applause started as you pushed yourself to sit up, trying to stop yourself from welling up. “And that’s a wrap on The Perfect Match.” The applause continued and Ben pulled you into a tight hug, rubbing your back and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You had to say a few words but you managed to get through it, and Ben’s little speech, without completely losing it. Afterwards, as people packed up the equipment and you headed back to your trailers to change, Ben pulled out his phone again. “I guess I should post that photo now, how’s this caption,” he said each word slowly as he typed it out, “Thank you Y/N for being the perfect Edith to my Andy. And thank you @theperfectmatchmovie for finding me my perfect match.” “Did you tag me?” “Of course,” “Did you tag Seth?” “Uhhhh, camera emoji by @seththesoundman. Now I have,” “Then it’s perfect. Little bit cheesy but I’ll let it slide.” “I’ll post another lot of photos with everyone else later and write a longer thing about how much fun this movie was and all of that, but I think this’ll do for the minute. Mary and Peter better fucking appreciate it.”

That evening most of the cast and crew headed out for drinks at the local pub. The official party would come later but everyone needed to get out and celebrate for an evening. You and Ben stayed for a few hours, Ben getting a little more clingy with each drink he finished. You limited yourself to only a couple. Ben wasn’t going to be able to drive so you decided to fall on that sword, switching to water quite early on. When he reached the point of intoxication that had him constantly complementing everyone you decided to call it a night, taking a final lap to say goodnight to everyone. There were a few wolf whistles and slurred comments about getting some as you left, Ben’s arm around your waist and his laugh in your ear, but you waved them off and led Ben out to your car. “C’mon Benny boy, I’ll drop you home.” “What about my car?” “Well you’ll have to come get it in the morning, won’t you.” He hummed and lay his head against the back of the seat, chatting animatedly as you made the trip to his. You wished him goodnight as he got out of the car and watched him make his way up to his front door. There he paused, patting his pockets. “Everything alright? You called out to him. “I don’t have any keys,” he laughed, turning around to come back to the car. “You fucking goon, did you leave them at the pub?” “Guess so,” he shrugged, “Can I crash at yours?” “Get in,” “Thanks cuddle bunny, you’re the best” You rolled your eyes, “Guess this means I’ll be your taxi tomorrow, running you around to find your keys and your car,” “That’s what girlfriends are for,” “If you say so.”

Once at yours you headed to the kitchen to make tea, Ben following to grab a glass of water and a snack. He knew where you kept everything by now, making himself a sandwich with whatever he found in your fridge, and then carrying it out to the couch. By the time the teas were made Ben already had Netflix queued up, ready to play the next episode of the series you’d started watching together. Nearly Twenty minutes into the episode Ben’s phone dinged. “Ah shit,” he said as he glanced at it, “forgot I said I’d call Joe. Do you mind if we pause the ep? We’re trying to organise travel stuff for him and it’s easier if we talk it through rather than texting it all.” “Sure,” “I promise I won’t be long.” “Take your time, it’s fine,” you were already reaching for your laptop. Ben smiled at you before ducking out of the room. You head him walking down the hall, footsteps fading as he got further away. For a while you just enjoyed the quiet as you checked your emails and social media profiles but after commenting on the photo Ben had posted and replying to a few messages from people you knew there wasn’t really much left to do. You drummed your fingers on your keyboard trying to think of another website you could visit. There was still no sign of Ben and you didn’t want to continue the show without him so you stood up, stretched, and headed back to the kitchen to grab some chocolate from the stash you kept. You were just about to shut the fridge when you heard Ben’s voice coming from the other side of the wall. Your spare room where he’d clearly gone to make his phone call. “Yeah, Joe, I fucking know. But I don’t have much choice.” He sounded more sober than he had when he’d got up. There was a pause as Joe spoke and then you heard Ben again. “I don’t know what I was thinking getting into this mess…..Yeah maybe. Doesn’t really matter though now does it…. What’s that supposed to mean? I can’t just call it quits now, the story is doing too well and Peter has assured me that the numbers are promising or whatever I don’t really know how they measure it. All I know is that people are going to see the movie because of us.” There was a long pause. You quietly shut the fridge and took a step back towards the doorway. This was not a conversation you should be listening in to. But then Ben spoke again, and curiosity got the better of you. “It doesn’t matter Joe. It doesn’t matter how I feel.” He laughed but it was completely devoid of humour, “Of course it sucks. It’s fucking shit, man. I just keep waiting for her to tell me she feels the same but it’s not happening…... No, I know it’s completely one sided…..No, I don’t think she knows. She wouldn’t have wanted to do it in the first place if she knew…. I just wish things were different. I love being around her and being able to hold her and kiss her but it fucking sucks that it’s only in public….. I don’t know. Maybe not filming together will ma-” You could feel your cheeks burning as you tiptoed back towards the lounge room, not quite sure what to do with yourself. You paced back and forth for a moment before deciding to go to the bathroom, at least then Ben couldn’t walk in on you as you tried to process it. You let the door shut loudly behind you, hoping that if Ben had heard movement he’d think you’d just got up to use the loo. He couldn’t know you’d overheard him. You leaned against the sink and tried to make sense of what you’d heard. Ben couldn’t have a crush on you, he just couldn’t. But it was the only thing he could have been talking about. What the fuck did that mean for your arrangement? What the fuck were you meant to do now?

#my writing #my fics #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy imagine #ahhhhhhh #ya'll im so excited about this series #i have all the chapters planned out #i have all the titles planned out #i wrote a short synopsis of the film they're making #so that i can reference it throughout the fic and be consistent in what the scenes might be #god can ben please just make a romcom now #i want it more than anything in the world

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grouptalekindnesssoulstories · 4 years

Text

Two Imps in a Trench Coat

So, I got bored and scrolled through @infinimay ‘s prompt list thingys. I got an idea from Illusions AU, so here we are! I have decided to make them two guys in a trench coat, and everyone else think they hate each other because they are never seen together.

And this time tumblr can’t be a little bitch and delete my progress cause I’m on desktop! Take that you dumb website

Also, I ended up using @enby-phoenix ‘s idea of the author interacting with the characters (Sorry, not sorry? :p I liked the idea)

Words: 1,665

Warnings: Cursing (once again, I can not function without curses), Remus being himself, a panic attack (written by someone with limited experience), threats with no intention of following through, complete self-insert.

“Are you sure about this Re?” Virgil sat on the desk as Remus strained to see from the chair. They were about to send in a response to an ad for roommates.

“Nope! It’s like an ace succubus!” The other imp said cheerfully.

“How does that even translate to this?” Virgil offered a hand to lift Remus up. He ignored it, choosing to climb the back of the chair and leaping onto the desk.

“We do whatcha gotta do! Like-”

“Nope, just send the e-mail you idiot. Both of them, and make sure it’s scheduled at different times, so they don’t link them” Virgil turned to instruct his twin. They had to be careful with their secret.

~~~

“I’m here bitches!” Remus threw open the door on his moving day. The other four roommates were all gathered in the living room. He briefly wondered if his glamour was enough (Virgil had fussed over it for an hour).

“Ah, I assume you’re Remus Jones” One responded, pushing up his glasses.

“Language!” Another scolded after recovering for his shock. The person next to them laid an arm around them.

“Let’s get started” Remus rubbed his hands, moving towards the group “You know I’m Remus, who are you?”

“I’m Logan, I posted the ad. He/him if you could” The first one began.

“I’m Janus, they/them. You can call me Dee though” The next responded, the one who had calmed Mx. Language-dude. “This is Patton, my boyfriend”

“That’s me Kiddo! Oh, I use he/him” Patton bounced after being introduced.

“That leaves this fucker to be Roman” Remus turned to the last of the group. To his surprise, they resembled his illusion pretty closely.

“Yes” He responded curtly. Remus shrugged, dragging his bags in. He had very little, as Virgil had not trusted him to move most of their stuff. He already missed the other imp. He couldn’t do anything to disrupt the glamour, and it was booooriiiing.

~~~

Virgil moved in a few days later. Most of the others were at work. Remus was there, hiding in the closet to keep up the appearance of being employed.

“I assume you are Virgil?” A crisp voice asked. Remus had updated his twin on everything, so Vee knew it was Logan. However, he didn’t want to give away his knowledge.

“Yea, what of it?”

“I’m Logan. I’m assuming you received my last e-mail?” The human swirled the liquid in his cup as he spoke.

“I did. So, where do I sleep?” Virgil shrugged, shoulders aching from all the bags he was carrying.

“Over here. Unfortunately, there is a door between the two rooms over here, so you are in a sense sharing with our....loud roommate addition. I must return to my work” Logan walked away quickly, disappearing down the opposite hallway.

“Re, where are you son of a-” Virgil muttered the moment he entered the room.

“Here!” Remus bounced out of the closet, tackling his brother.

“Shhh, gotta be careful”

“Nah, he can’t hear anything. Perfect for sneaking into his room and getting some emotional action” Re bounced, beaming wider than natural even for an imp.

“Lead the way then. I’m tired from keeping this up. I’ll set up my ‘room’ later. Not like I’ll be using it much anyways if everything goes well”

~~~

“Where is this new roommate?” A quiet voice asked a few hours later. Both imps jolted out of their doze, scrambling to figure out a way to sneak out.

“Who’s turn is it to appear?” Vee hissed, glancing around.

“On, quickly! I bottom” Remus pulled on his brother’s arm. Virgil nodded, climbing onto his brother’s shoulders before adjusting the illusion. After a second of tweaking it and getting his balance, Remus walked them out.

“You called?” Virgil drawled, signalling Remus to lean against the wall. The excitement that hit both of them was addictive in its strength.

“Hiya! I’m Pat!” The tallest of the trio standing there said. He bounced on his toes, practically vibrating in joy.

“Darling, easy” The other human closest to him soothed. After taking their boyfriend’s hand, said boyfriend calmed a bit. “I’m Dee. they/them”

“And I’m Roman” The last one added. Virgil immediately saw the bags under his eyes and the exhaustion rolling off him. It was almost as strong as Pat’s joy. However, it had less of an energy rush. It was so deep, it almost sapped energy.

“Well, I’m sure you know by now I’m Virgil. Any more questions? I want to unpack” Virgil almost snapped. All three stepped back and Remus slid them through the gap quickly. The moment he shut the door to the spare Virgil’s room, he swung his brother off his shoulders.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay spider. It’s not you. Do you need your blanket? Or Charlotte?” Remus rumbled, trying to stop the oncoming panic attack. Virgil shook his head, patting Re’s shoulder. Remus nodded and sat next to his brother. The moment he had settled, Virgil hugged him. The pair curled up, Remus humming to soothe the other imp. Before long, both were sleeping peacefully.

~~~

“Do you hate Remus?” Roman sat down heavily on the couch next to the pair. Virgil was currently the one in the illusion, so it was him who responded.

“Never met the guy. If anything, he hates me” Virgil tried to sound as bored as possible. It had been a few months and the twins had gained more energy, fully emerging from their halfling state. They couldn’t risk going anywhere with each other though, and the rest of the apartment had noticed they never were seen with each other.

“Well, what about me? You’ve avoided me ever since you moved in” Roman leaned closer, and Virgil was tempted to lean away, but that would weaken the illusion. It was true he had been carefully keeping away, and had grown closer to the rest of the group...but he didn’t hate Roman. It was the opposite, he couldn’t stand being near him with all of his exhaustion, sorrow, and depression.

“Mmm, nah. You’re just a lot” Vee responded after a nudge from his brother.

“Of emotion?” Roman responded after a moment, a flicker appearing across his face. His plain features seemed to briefly warp. After a moment, he reached out a hand, laying it over Virgil’s paler skin. It passed through Virgil’s illusion entirely after a moment, shattering it.

“Shit” Virgil met Roman’s eyes. Eyes that were glowing softly, and were slowly dissolving a similar illusion. Remus freed himself from Vee and bounced over, tapping the round face that appeared.

“VeeVee, it’s real! It’s purely fat and would make great-”

“Re, stop that thought right now. We both know what it is and it’s gross af” Roman started giggling.

“What’s so funny Princey?” Virgil asked, angling himself towards his brother, and the exit he could use.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m just glad I’m not alone, and that I was right. Plus you’re so small!” He waved a hand at the pair. After a nod, they tackled him. After some scrambling, they were perched on Roman’s chest. He was pinned to the couch on his back.

“What are you. It’s obvious this is no illusion. So what” “are you. And how did you figure out what we are” Virgil and Remus began, their own eyes glowing from using their magic.

“I’m a selkie. Someone took most of my skin. And I saw you two the first night. I was bringing food for you both at Pat’s request and saw you curled up with tatters of glamour. I didn’t want to do anything with anyone around though” Roman explained, a nervous smile across his features. The twins exchanged looks and a nod. They scrambled off, freeing Roman by brushing dark red hands over the bonds.

“We are Imps” “and your emotions were impossible to feed” “Off. So we avoided you” The pair informed him.

“Plus Vee has a crush on you!” Remus added unhelpfully.

“Remus, I will shove my feet in your face the next time I’m on top” Virgil punched his brother.

“Oooo kinky”

“You little fuc-”

“Uh...guys? You know Patton and Dee will be coming back from their date soon, right?” Roman broke in, glancing between them. “I also can’t tell you apart now, except by your voices”

“Oh, shoot. he’s right” Virgil glanced at the clock as Roman somehow made the physical version of the 😢 emoji.

“VeeVee has the curly horns, I’m taller at 3′4.5!” Remus piped up at the worst time as the lock jingled.

“SHit on a fucking stick, Remus get your ass over here. We need to get our glamour back on” Virgil yanked his brother over, focused entirely on adjusting the glamour to look natural while still hiding both imps.

“Um, you may not need be concerned?” Roman said awkwardly as Patton cursed outside the door from Remus’s panicked interference on the lock.

“Uh, explain quickly before I burn you with...just quickly!” Virgil almost yelled, struggling with repairing the damage.

“Pat, Dee, May I tell them?” Roman raised his voice. The door swung open as Remus yanked a blanket over him and his brother. Dee raised an eyebrow, walking in and closing the door behind them.

“Tell them what exsssactly?” They almost hissed, eyes quickly taking in the selkie.

“Of course kiddo!” Pat spoke up, smiling brightly.

“I don’t mind, I sssssupposssse” Dee added as all eyes turned to them.

“Well, You know I’m a selkie. Dee over there is a naga! And Pat is a werecat. Which is why he says he’s allergic, but there’s cat hair all over!” Roman said proudly. The imps felt the pride leak out of him. The gloomy emotional cover was breaking apart, showing the emotions he had hidden underneath after the initial meeting.

“We’re imps! Here to suck your soul out through your emotions!” Remus popped his horned head out from the blanket.

“Remus, shut up. You’re gonna get us kicked out” Virgil shoved his brother.

“Are we sharing now? Is it touchy-feely time?” A voice echoed from the ceiling.

“Logan!” All five exclaimed, the imps jumping into the air.

“Yes, it is I. Your favorite vampire roommate” A voice drawled from the ceiling. The various bruises suddenly made so much more sense as the thin man dropped from the ceiling. His whole body looked like he was, well, dead.

“....Re, I’m going to take a nap” Virgil vanished under the blanket again as the various glamours were dropped. The only one without a glamour was Patton, and his unruly curls were a disguise themselves.

“A wise choice. We should all go to bed, including our other roommate” Pat smiled, earning a smile from Logan.

“Don’t fucking tell me there’s another one of you” Virgil’s voice was muffled.

“Oh, I keep forgetting she’s here” Roman whined, glaring at the idiot.

“She? I haven’t heard anything about a she” Re cocked his head. Logan sighed before turning his gaze towards their other roommate.

“Yes, well. She doesn’t typically appear. You can’t see her, unless she chooses to appear” Logan adjusted his glasses.

“Rude. I do appear” A distinctly feminine voice echoed from a spot on the arm of the couch. A blink, and there was a young woman sitting there. There were bags under her own eyes, and she seemed to be upset about something.

“Who are you?” VeeVee poked his head out from the blanket long enough to confirm she appeared human.

“I’m Delphine Ignia. I technically own this place. I can’t take credit for this whole thing though. Fin gets credit for the idea” she turned towards the imps, crossing her legs as she studied them with...normal blue eyes.

“Are you a ghost? Cause I didn’t see your name on the lease” Remus cocked his head, readying a spear to throw as the woman’s leg suddenly swayed as she appeared to think.

“...no you wouldn’t. You see, I’m the one bringing this whole thing to life. I’m the author! Though, I usually think of myself as the writer. I’m not published so I feel like ‘author’ doesn’t fit” She had once again shifted as she spoke, her leg somehow bouncing on the ground as she spoke.

“And you of all people need sleep. You can make a second chapter in the morning. You have the zoom meeting tomorrow” Logan scolded the young woman. She groaned, nodding.

“Yea, yea. I’ll lose the idea though! And I haven’t found the stopping point”

“This is it. If the readers want, you’ll figure out a way. You did with How Far Can You Trust A Serpent” Dee pointed out.

“Fiiineeee. I am having a harder time typing cause I’m tired. Night guys. Sleep well! You have no choice but to sleep!” The woman started fading as her leg’s bouncing slowed. Before the roommates knew it, they were in their beds and collectively drifting off as the...writer, as she called herself, did. They all had a lot to ponder, and Delphine needed to fucking sleep. So they did.

#Delphine Ignia's Stories #sanders sides #sympathetic sides #pre-romantic prinxiety

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inactiive-shit · 4 years

Text

Life As A Sanders

LAAS Masterlist

Read on AO3

Part Three: Pillows

((Previous))/((Next))

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Warnings: None

Pairings: Eventual familial DLAMP

Words: 2,401

Summary: Logan and Virgil get new beds.

Age: 3

Here we go!!

Things had been peaceful for Virgil and Logan recently. Even though they were three years old, they seemed to have no problem with the usually hectic schedule working around them. They got up with their Dad at six o’clock most mornings, and he made them pancakes or bacon or fruits and vegetables, and occasionally, if they were running low on time, Dad let them have donuts or cereal.

They were at the bakery by seven, and Dad let them in. Virgil and Logan were allowed to run around and play in the area for an hour while Dad got everything ready and did one final wipe-down. Valerie or Thomas usually showed up at seven-thirty to help with the preparation, and then at eight Virgil and Logan were herded into the backroom that Dad had payed to have added on to the building for them. They had a bunch of toys and a pile of pillows for naptime and most of the time there were others with them; the different employees who were kind enough to babysit and sometimes Uncle Emile played with them and told them stories.

Their favorite time time was when Missy came over and took them into the kitchen and helped them make different snacks. Virgil liked making cupcakes and Logan liked snickerdoodle cookies, but they both loved making anything when Dad came in and made something too.

But sometimes they were on their own for a little while. Never longer than ten minutes, but it happened occasionally. Virgil and Logan didn’t really mind, and anyway, they always had each other.

Lunch was always at noon, and they left by four or five o’clock each day. If they left early, then Dad took them to a park or the store to pick up whatever they’d been running out of. Dinner was between six or six-thirty. Bedtime was about nine, and then the whole thing started over the next day.

Both boys were more than okay with their schedule. It was safe and it was fun, and they got to see their friends all day long. The bakery was home to them.

So, it was understandable that, when that schedule was violated, the boys could get a little. . .fussy. Logan, particularly, seemed to hate anything that deviated from the schedule.

But Patton was trying to salvage this situation. He knew they didn’t like the change, so he’d built this day trip up in advance for a couple of weeks and gotten the boys excited for it. Because, the boys had turned three just a few months ago. And three year olds got to have beds, not a baby’s crib. So, Patton was taking them out to choose which bed frames they liked the most. Then, when they were done with that, they’d take them home, and Patton would try to build them and, if all else failed, call his good friends Joan and Talyn. The pair could be pretty handy, so they’d probably be able to figure it out if Patton couldn’t.

That’s what brought them to this little store in the middle of the day. Virgil was in Patton’s arms, quietly watching all the people go by and fidgeting with the buttons on Patton’s shirt. Logan was holding Patton’s free hand, but he was walking so close to Patton’s leg that he almost couldn’t take a step.

“Virgil, I’m going to put you down, okay, baby? I think Logan wants a turn to be held.” Virgil whimpered at first, but then he looked down at Logan, and nodded. These two would do anything for each other, Patton thought fondly.

Patton set Virgil on his feet and Lo immediately put his hands up. Patton swung Logan up, and Vee grabbed onto Patton’s pants. Patton was acutely aware of where Virgil was. They’d gone to the grocery store once, and Virgil had been distracted by some shiny sprinkles and had wandered away to look at them. Realizing Virgil was gone and the ensuing search was the most terrifying five minutes of Patton’s life. Now, Patton almost compulsively did head-counts when they left the house.

“Here we are! C’mon, kiddos, you can walk around and look at them if you want.” Virgil hesitantly stepped away, and as soon as Logan’s feet were on the ground, he grabbed Virgil’s hand and dragged him over to the closest bed.

He was usually pretty subdued in public, but if there was something that interested him nearby, he’d forget all about where they were. Patton was glad he could do that. Virgil never got loud in public, and Patton was beginning to wonder whether that was normal, shy three-year-old stuff, or if Virgil might have something else going on.

Still, Logan had pulled out of his shell a little, and he seemed intent on dragging Virgil with him. Patton giggled as the boys looked around at all the beds. They were getting twin beds instead of toddler beds because it seemed like a waste to buy toddler beds when they’d grow out of them by the time they were four. Which is also the reason Patton had waited this long to get them beds. They’d taken to sleeping in Patton’s bed with him for the last year or so, and Patton had been embracing that to the fullest extent. However, it was time to get them beds. So here they were, looking at the frames and sitting on mattresses.

“Daddy! Daddy, wook!” Logan was excitedly pulling Patton’s arm and pointing toward the ceiling. Patton looked up and saw a bird. “It’s a biwd. How’s it get in?”

“Well, kiddo, it probably came through the door?” Patton himself wasn’t sure where the little black bird came from.

“Birds don’t use doors,” Virgil mumbled. He glared at the bird, and then reached over and began to feel a mattress. He pulled his hand away quickly, rubbing it on his pants like there was something nasty on it.

Despite the bird, which Logan kept asking about which Patton found incredibly adorable, the trio managed to choose their mattresses and frames and, with the help of employees, Patton got them out to his truck.

The boys excitedly discussed the bird and their mattresses all the way home. Patton was content to let them entertain themselves for the most part while he worried about how he was going to get all the stuff he just bought into the house.

Patton was also worrying about the bakery. He knew he shouldn’t, because Valerie was more than capable of opening by herself and he trusted her not to do anything bad, but what if something went wrong? They were out of something? What if Patton had forgotten to do something the day before? What if they needed him for something?

Patton wished he could just leave the bakery closed when he couldn’t be there, but he needed the money to keep everything running too badly. Still, it was rare that the bakery was open on a day Patton wasn’t there. Sometimes he left during the day if there was something he needed to do, but he was always there for opening and closing.

Between his worries about the bakery and how on earth he was going to manage two beds, the drive home flew by. Patton sent the boys in the house and decided to take the bed frames in first. They were much more maneuverable, and that was over in a couple of minutes. Then came the hard part: trying to get the mattresses in. It really was a two person job, and after barely managing to pull the first mattress off the truck’s bed, Patton knew he couldn’t do it alone. Leaving the bed leaning against his vehicle, Patton jogged next door and knocked.

“Hey, Patton! What can I do ya for?” asked Patton’s polite, if a little strange, neighbor. His name was Aaron, and he always seemed to be wearing a shirt about some conspiracy or another. He had about five dogs, though they never looked like the same dogs as the last time Patton saw them. He was wearing a backwards baseball cap, and today’s conspiracy was “Jet fuel doesn’t melt steel beams.” Patton had actually asked about that one before.

He found he wasn’t really a fan of conspiracies.

“Hey. It’s good to see you, Aaron. I came over to see if you could help me out for a second? I just bought my kiddos some beds, but I didn’t count on the mattresses being so heavy. Could you give me a hand?”

“Sure thing, daddio! Let’s go!” Patton led him back to the beds, and they both lifted one side. Even with the two of them, moving the beds was a struggle. The short hallways didn’t leave enough room for turning, and Patton was pretty sure he was lifting most of the mattress by himself. But he was glad for the help anyway. He got a chance to talk to Aaron a bit, and ask about what he’d been up to recently. Apparently, he’d been hunting mothman, which was not something Patton understood at all, but he was still supportive of Aaron’s endeavours.

The second mattress went a little smoother than the first, and they were done pretty quickly.

“Thanks for the help, Aaron! I really appreciate it!”

“It’s no problem, Pat!” Aaron paused, panting. “You’re a lot stronger than you look,” he said slowly, now looking at Patton suspiciously.

“Yup! All those hours I put in at the bakery hauling around food and flour and setting up deliveries really keeps me in shape!” Patton laughed, and Aaron laughed too, no longer suspicious.

“I bet!” He paused again. “You know, I’ve put together a few beds before. I could get these done for ya in an hour or so.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Patton said.

“It’s alright. I didn’t have anything planned for the rest of the day, anywho.”

“Well, thanks a bunch, kiddo! I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to do this by myself to start. Do you want me to help, or. . .?”

“No, I can do it. Besides, it’s gettin’ to be lunch time. Most people eat about now.” Patton glanced at his watch and jumped. Already one! Oh, the time really had gotten away from him!

“Okay! If you get hungry while you’re doing this, just come out and get something. You’re more than welcome to have lunch with me and the boys.” Aaron declined, so Patton went to the kitchen where Virgil and Logan were playing with dragons and dinosaurs.

“Daddy. A pet dinosau’?” Logan asked, stopping halfway through a movement to look up at Patton with puppy eyes.

“No! A dragon!” Virgil collided his dragon with Logan’s collection of dinosaurs, roaring and pretending to breathe fire all over them. Logan picked up one of his raptors and crashed it into the dragon. Both of them tumbled to the ground and the boys immediately went back to their game. It was one they played a lot. Logan’s dinosaurs were trying to migrate south for the winter, and Virgil’s dragons did. . .whatever they wanted. Patton really wasn’t sure what they point was, but Virgil and Logan loved it.

Patton went to the counter and began to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for Logan. He put two more slices of bread in the toaster for Virgil. They both liked the sandwiches, but Virgil didn’t like how squishy the bread was. It was the same reason he refused to eat his cereal with milk.

In a couple of minutes, Virgil and Logan were seated in their chairs at the table, eating the food like they’d been starved. Patton giggled and told them to calm down, but they both inhaled their sandwiches.

“Daddy, we goin’ to bakey?” Virgil asked. He looked up at Patton, absurdly clean for a three year old who’d just eaten a sandwich. He was directly juxtaposing Logan, who had jelly everywhere, and was now licking off his hands.

“Probably not, kiddo. But we can go tomorrow,” Patton told him. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up, okay Lolo?” Patton carried Logan to wash the jelly off, and then he took both boys into the yard to play.

Aaron left a couple hours following, four slices of bread in his hand. He waved at Patton, who was sitting in the yard with Virgil napping on him and Logan drawing a dinosaur on the sidewalk. Patton waved back, content to sit with his little boy and watch their peaceful neighborhood.

Later that night, Patton was putting the boys to bed. It seemed to be the first time that they realized what, exactly, the beds were for. Patton put Logan into his bed with the dinosaur sheets, and then tucked Virgil into his bed with the purple and white plaid sheets. He told them goodnight, and made sure the night lights were on, and then went to leave the room.

“I love you, kiddos.”

“Daddy, why Lolo there?” Virgil asked.

“Well, Virge, Lolo has his own bed, now. So he can sleep by himself, and you can sleep by yourself.”

“But why?” Logan asked. Patton sighed.

“Boys, you have two beds now so that you can sleep alone. You don’t have to sleep alone, but if you want to, you are allowed. Okay?”

“Okay. . .” Logan did not sound sure. Patton wasn’t sure what else he could say about it, so he decided he’d let time figure it out.

“Okay. Goodnight. I love you, Virgil. I love you, Logan.”

“Love you, Daddy,” the boys mumbled. Patton shut the door behind him and went to make his tea.

“Lolo?”

“‘M comin’.”

Within five minutes, Logan had dragged all of his pillows and blankets over to Virgil’s bed and then climbed in himself.

“Will Daddy be mad?” Virgil asked.

“No,” Logan said, little voice decisive. “He said ‘e can.” Then, they both fell asleep, curled up together, just like always.

It took weeks for Logan and Virgil to even begin to sleep in their own beds, and Patton couldn’t help how cute it was. He never told them they had to use separate beds, but he was proud when they did it on their own. And even once they had mostly stopped sharing one of the beds, Virgil still had the dinosaur pillow and Logan had the purple and white plaid pillow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @trashcanego @supersoftsupersleep

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stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale · 4 years

Text

An Explanation of Why Louis and Violet are Both Terrific Love Interests [4/5]

+Why both romantic routes are not only amazing but better than other games I’ve personally played in the past.

+Why some people are idiots and get off on picking stupid fights.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

[catherine and unlikable love interests/love triangles]

I would rather hop onto a rocket and travel through outer space alone than date either of you- full offense.

Catherine is a game that... exists.

Catherine came out in 2011 and follows Vincent Brooks, a man who is tormented by supernatural nightmares while torn between his longtime girlfriend Katherine and a girl who is the embodiment of his dream girl, Catherine.

That’s not confusing, right?

Basically, it’s a romantic-horror-puzzle game where you gotta beat sheep at puzzles in your dreams because if you die in the dream, you die in real life, and you also have to decide which K/Catherine you want while simultaneously cheating on both of them because you're actually dating them both in secret.

Now, you might be wondering why I would add a game like this and how I could possibly compare it to TWDG.

Well, there’s a simple answer to that, but first, let me introduce you to Vincent and both the K/Catherines.

Vincent is an idiot and not very likable. He makes dumb choices and does dumb things, and a lot of times, it’s hard to feel sorry for him. Of course, him being the playable character, you can make him better or worse than this, to which he does get a lot better [and yet somehow more infuriating] as the game goes on.

Love Interest #1: Katherine

Katherine went to high school with Vincent and they eventually started dating later in life. She’s pretty much the polar opposite of Vincent, and she really, really wants to get married. Like... that’s the whole thing with Katherine: She wants to marry Vincent.

But, oh no, Vincent doesn’t want to marry her because he’s afraid of commitment and anything adult-related and this irritates her, and that’s fair.

But then suddenly she’s pregnant and that does nothing but make Vincent freak the fuck out. But then suddenly she’s not pregnant...? I dunno, that part always confused me.

Overall, Katherine’s alright, but honestly, she’s not my cup of tea. I don’t really remember much about her from when I played the game except that she’s really persistent about marriage even though Vincent obviously isn’t mature enough or committed to her.

Then we’ve got Catherine who is.... oooof.

Love Interest #2: Catherine

Catherine’s some girl that Vincent meets when he gets drunk at a bar and ends up having a longtime affair with her over the course of the game. This Catherine is everything that Vincent wants in a girl, and he even says so himself, however, he can’t remember the time that he spends with her because, spoiler alert, she’s actually a succubus sent to seduce him.

She’s immature, giggly, seductive, and kind of annoying and a little crazy, not gonna lie. She’s also my least favorite of the two.

Those are your choices.

Now, your endings based on who you go with...

If Vincent goes with Catherine’s route and ditches Katherine, he literally becomes the King of Hell.

I’m not even kidding.

If you get the good Katherine ending, Vincent and Katherine get married and everything’s sunshine and rainbows, but in the good Catherine ending, he overthrows the current King of Hell and takes the throne with Catherine as his queen.

Those are your endings.

Sure, why not?

Now that I’ve told you a little bit about each of the girls and the outcomes of dating them, let me give you my simple answer to the question you may or may not have asked:

Both of them are unlikeable and I didn’t want to romance either of them.

That is a big problem in a game that is centered around Vincent growing up and deciding which girl he wants to be with and how that’ll affect the rest of his life!

Another big problem with these two girls and the story is the trope that makes all our eyes roll: Love Triangle.

Now, you might be wondering, “Well... CJ, aren’t all games that present two potential romances considered a love triangle?”

Great question. I believe that there are two types of love triangles: Tolerable and Insufferable.

When I think of an insufferable love triangle, I think of Character A falling in love with both Character’s B and C, then proceeding to selfishly drag both along because they can’t decide which one they like better for the sake of adding conflict and drama to the plot.

In Life is Strange, you can totally smooch both Chloe and Warren, but Warren is so forgettable that it feels like Max is just trying to see if she does actually like boys rather than “Oh man, do I like Chloe or Warren more? I can’t decide!” when she 100% decides on Chloe. This is tolerable because it doesn’t matter.

In Persona 4, you can be a dingdong and date all of the girls [but not Yosuke because Atlus gets off on making me cry] in secret but then you get fucked over on Valentine’s day when you have to break each of the girls’ hearts because you can’t spend time with all of them without being found out as the world’s biggest cheater. That’s not a love triangle, that’s just the protagonist being a huge, cheating ho.

In ANF, the love triangle is insufferable with David and Javi “fighting” for Kate’s affection and it sucks, as I’ve stated previously

In King’s Quest, they actually gave us a breath of fresh air: Regardless of who you choose, the other will be 100% supportive. If you romance Vee, Neese goes on to say how cute Vee and Graham are. There is no jealousy, there is no Graham being an idiot because he can’t decide which girl he likes better so he tries to romance them both. It’s more like he’s trying to get to know both of them and see which girl he connects with more. Tolerable love triangle.

But in Catherine, that’s the story: Vincent can’t decide if he should stay with Katherine or pursue a new relationship with Catherine, so he continues to date both of them and be a big cheater. He eventually figures his shit out towards the end of the game based on your choices, but it’s still infuriating to watch him fuck things up more rather than coming clean to one of them and ending it. INSUFFERABLE. LOVE. TRIANGLE.

In TFS, this isn’t an issue because it’s tolerable. You can consider everything with Louis and Violet a love triangle because they both hold feelings for Clementine, but the difference is that Clementine can’t date both of them and then drag them through the mud with her stupid indecisiveness, which results in unnecessary drama and both of them being heartbroken. Alongside that, Louis and Violet won’t hate Clem or each other for her decision.

It’s similar to King’s Quest where Clementine takes the opportunities presented to her to get to know them both before pursuing the one she feels more fond of and wants to romance.

Louis and Violet don’t get jealous, bitter, pouty, traitorous, or mean if you don’t pick them. I imagine they’re a little bummed because they really did like Clem, but it says a lot about their characters that they don’t lash out at Clementine and/or the one she’s dating.

I mean, can you imagine?

When you break things off with Catherine, everything seems to go smooth until she runs to the bathrooms and then proceeds to beat the shit out of Vincent.

Which yeah, he’s an idiot and you’re actually a succubus from Hell but damn!

As for the other Katherine, she shows up and breaks up with Vincent like “Oh yeah btw I’m not actually pregnant so.... goodbye, have a nice life.”

So, at least she has a little more chill.

But I still don’t like her and that’s an issue!

Do you want to know what my canon ending is for this game? The one where Vincent says fuck it and goes to outer space. He defeats the sheep dream demons, decides marriage isn’t for him, bets on a wrestling match, wins, and goes to fucking outer space.

I decided that being alone in outer space was a better ending than being happily married to Katherine or becoming the King of Hell with Catherine.

Because when it finally came for the game to end and I got one of the okay Katherine endings, I was so sick of both of them. I didn’t want to be with either of them, I wanted Vincent to be single.

Can you IMAGINE feeling that way while playing TFS?

That was never an issue with Louis and Violet.

I love them both, and I had no qualms with choosing an ending with Louis.

Another thing that I do want to point out is, yes, I understand that the space ending is Vincent freeing himself and doing something he wants for once and that’s apart of his growth as a character.

I also think that TFS did the whole “Main Protagonist doesn’t want romance so they don’t pursue it” perfectly and Louis and Violet are still amazing in that route, which I can’t really say the same for either of the K/Catherine’s.

In conclusion: Louis and Violet are some of the most lovable love interests I’ve ever encountered in a game and while their respective endings weren’t perfect, they could’ve been a lot worse.

Continued in Part 5

#twdg louis #louis twdg #twdg violet #violet twdg #twdg clementine #clementine twdg #twdg clouis #twdg violentine #clouis #violentine

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jungle321jungle · 5 years

Text

Forms of Family 3

Part Three

Dee’s nerves were shot.

He had spent so much time- he didn’t even know how much anymore- talking to doctors who asked him the same questions so many times he wasn’t sure he knew the answer to them anymore.

On top of big general worry over Virgil’s condition, Patton would sporadically start to cry out of worry (in any other situation Dee would find it adorable), the twins were antsy as they began to rough house with one another, and finally Logan paced insistently as he kept trying to call their father (using Dee’s phone) to no avail.

Virgil was paler than he usually was, and his small chest heaved as he took short shallow breaths. His dark eyes were closed tightly, as if he was pain- and it only pained Dee more.

“Daddy?” Dee looked away from Virgil at the sound of Patton’s voice as he looked up to see the doctor had returned.

Patton climbed out his arms allowing him to stand slowly before he followed the doctor further away from the boys to speak.

“Based on the tests run and what you explained to us we believe he has a virus most likely caught for your other son, which led to an infection.”

Dee nodded digesting the information, “So he’ll be okay?”

“He will, but we will need to stay here for possibly a few days so he can have antibiotics, and monitoring. I’ll have him transferred out of the ER and into a more permanent room in a different part of the hospital.”

Weight fell from Dee’s chest as he gave a sigh of relief. No he didn’t want to be there longer, but long as Virgil was going to be okay that’s what mattered.

~~~~

Dee was thankful for his friends.

Despite his telling them that things were fine Brenda, Miranda, and more had come to offer well wishes. They brought him a change of clothes from the house and activities for the boys to do, and they had even offered to let the boys sleep in their homes as Dee was rooted to the spot.

Everyone was there to offer support.

Everyone but his husband.

“Daddy?” Patton asked pulling on his shirt.

Dee nodded and stood up and after making sure the other boys were fine he headed out the room to the bathroom.

He was gone for less than five minutes.

Less than five minutes.

And yet when he got back what did he find?

Virgil crying, Logan holding back a kicking and screaming Roman, and Remus- Remus had sunk his teeth into the nurses hand.

Dee was frozen and shock for half a moment until he noticed the nurse’s hand rise up to strike. But Dee’s fingers curled around her wrist before she could dare.

At his sudden appearance Remus released the woman and she wrenched her hand back. She tried to move back so Dee let her go.

“Do everyone a favor and watch your kids,” she snapped.

Dee held back a retort, he wasn’t going to piss off someone watching Virgil. “Remus apologize, now.”

Remus looked smug, but he gave an apology anyways, “Sorry.”

She hurried from the room then leaving Dee alone with his sons. The first thing he did was take a breath before he picked up Virgil and bounced him a few times to get the baby to calm down a bit. When he had quieted slightly he turned the others, “What happened?”

Logan let go of Roman, who then took up post beside Remus before he spoke. “Vee was crying and Remus wanted to help, but she came in and said we couldn’t touch him!”

“He’s our brother not hers!” Remus added in. “I know how to hold him! So she tried to pull me away, so I bit her! And she tried to hit me!”

“So I kicked her! Until Logan became a buzzkill!”

“She didn’t want you to touch him because it’s a matter of being sanitary, not familial ties,” Logan explained.

“So?”

“Yeah so?”

Dee gave a sigh, “You can’t bite people Remus. And I need you guys to listen to what the doctors and nurses say, alright? It’s what’s best for Virgil, okay?”

“Okay...”

“Fine... But if she’s mean to him, I’ll kick her again.”

Dee held back an eye roll (Logan didn’t), “Fine. Whatever, just sit and quiet down.”

“Fine parenting,” Logan muttered.

“Logan, I’m not in the mood.”

“Noted.”

~~~~

It took two nurses, one doctor‍, and his friend Miranda to pull him away from the hospital room. But the furthest he would go is the first floor to get a coffee.

“So glad I pried you from that room,” Miranda commented as they stepped out of the elevator onto their floor.

Dee sipped at his coffee, “Yeah, the bad coffee is totally worth it.”

She rolled her eyes and was quiet for a moment before she spoke, “Have you heard from...?”

Dee gave a sigh as his fingers involuntarily clenched and unclenched into fists. “No. I left half a million messages and sent twice that in texts... and I got nothing.”

Miranda paused in thought, before she stopped in her walk and turned to face him with a serious look. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but personally I think you’re better off without him.”

“Miranda I-”

“I’m not going to overstep more than that. But if you are still set on trying to contact him, maybe you could try using someone else’s phone? He might have you blocked.”

Dee opened and closed his mouth unsure of how to proceed, but she nodded slowly.

“If you need a phone feel free to use mine.”

He watched as she pulled out the device and held it out to him, but he shook his head and turned. He couldn’t be blocked... right?

“We should head back,” were the only words he could force out as he turned to walk the way they had come.

The walk back was silent, until he slid open the door and was greeted with the scene inside.

“I win!”

The shout came from Roman and Remus playing some game on their iPad in the corner. Apparently Remus had won whatever it was. Beside them Logan was nose deep in a book while Patton lay on the floor with a coloring book. It was a scene so normal he almost wished he could pick the whole thing up and drop it in his house. That Virgil would be healthy and things could be back to normal.

When he entered the room they all looked up at him, but he said nothing making his way back to Virgil.

“When can V come home?” Patton asked him.

Dee gave a sigh as he sat in his seat, “Hopefully soon Patt. Tomorrow or the day after.”

“That’s far away.”

“I know, but it’s to make sure Virgil is feeling his best, alright?”

“He needs to feel better faster then.”

Dee nodded, “I agree.”

~~~~

“Pacific.”

“Pacific. P-A-C-I-F-I-C. Pacific.”

“Paralysis.”

“Paralysis. P-A-R-A-L-Y-S-I-S. Paralysis. Come on give me something harder.”

“Fine, sorry, I thought we starting easy and building up. Um so... exasperation.”

“What’s the point?” Roman interjected. “Logan wins every year. He doesn’t need to practice. He’s the best speller! ...Er...”

“Speller. And why do you go to soccer practice then?” Logan asked him. “You guys won the last three games.”

“We don’t play soccer anymore,” Remus put in. “We’re gonna do karate.”

Dee sighed, “That’s not confirmed yet.”

“We can’t do karate?” Roman asked. God the kid sounded like Dee had done something terrible. He grimaced,

“I’m not saying that either. I need to look into some things first.”

“So that’s a yes?”

“It’s a maybe.”

"Maybes are yeses!"

Dee gave a sigh as Logan frowned, “They are not. Do- do you know the definition of both words?”

“It’s not a yes right now,” Patton threw in. “He has to talk to Dad first!”

Dee felt a pain in his chest as he gave the boy a smile, “E-exactly Patt.”

“What’s the next word again?” Logan asked changing the subject.

Dee nodded thankful for it, “Um... we were on exasperation.”

“Exasperation. R-O-M-A-N-A-N-D-R-E-M-U-S. Exasperation.”

Dee just shook his head, “I need a nap.”

~~~~

When the name flashed on his screen Dee swore his heart stopped beating.

His eyes flickered to his sons to find Logan watching him curiously. He gave a hard swallow as he grabbed his phone tightly and walked out into the hallway. The nothingness in his heart was suddenly replaced by a jackhammer as he finally answered the call.

“Hello?” His voice shaky, quiet, and weaker than he wanted it to be.

“You always take forever to pick up,” grunted the voice on the other side.

“Virgil he-”

“Where’s your watch?”

Dee felt himself deflate, “What?”

“Where’s you watch?” He asked again. “The one I gave you on our honeymoon? I need it.”

“What? W-why?”

“Does it matter? Where is it?”

“I don’t know. But why-”

“Of course,” there was a banging and shuffling on the other side. “You fucking lose everything. I already checked your side table and the safe, do you have any ideas on where it could be?”

“Virgil is in the hospital,” Dee stated bluntly. “He has been for two nights now.”

“What does that have to do with a watch?”

Dee gave a laugh of disbelief as his anger began to rise, “Nothing at all. But he’s your son too, so shouldn’t that be where your concern lie? With your son? Or with a fucking watch?”

“...Don’t swear around the kids.”

“Oh now you’re concerned?” Dee shouted. “You hate that I swear, but you can’t fucking come to the hospital see your son? What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Don’t raise your-“

“Don’t! Don't you even try to tell me what to do anymore. I’m done with you and all this bullshit. So listen up, you have two choices. You come here now and be with your children, or you get the fuck out of our lives and never contact us again.”

“You can’t do that.”

“Yes I can! I’m done lying to the boys! I’m done lying to myself! I gave you your choices. Come and be a father or get out of our lives.”

“Damien,” his voice was slow and angry, but Dee couldn’t bring himself to care.

“What?”

“You are aware that I pay for everything right?”

“...I guess you made your choice.”

“That’s not what I said.”

“If your money is more important that your children then you made your choice. So feel free to take your money with you. I’ll keep my kids.”

“Damien I-”

Dee cut him off by hanging up the phone. He stared down at it for a moment before he took a deep breath to stop the tears burning at his eyes.

“Dad?”

The soft call came from behind him and Dee turned to see Logan and the twins standing in the doorway. He opened and closed his mouth, but no words came out. He moved back into the room and sat in his chair before he felt small arms pull him into a hug.

He lost his battle against the tears as he hugged Roman back. There was a short pause before the other three joined and Dee held his children tightly to his chest.

“Daddy’s not coming back?” Patton asked quietly.

Dee forced himself to take a deep breath as he pulled back enough to look them all in the eye. “Our family is going to be a bit different now,” he started slowly. “But it’s okay. There’s many forms of families, and now ours is just us. But it’s okay, we’ll be okay. Can you guys trust me on that?”

Logan nodded and adjusted his glasses, “One hundred percent.”

“Good, I’m gonna need your help Logan.”

“You needed my help even when he was around.”

Dee smiled ignoring the way his tears still fell, “Glad I can count on you.”

“We thought he wasn’t coming back anyway,” Roman admitted.

Remus nodded solemnly, “Dad’s never been gone this long... Does he really not care anymore?”

“I’m sorry,” Dee told them both. “I want to think he does, but I don’t know. But I’ll be here for you guys regardless okay?”

Dee looked to Patton and it pained him to find tears in the young boy’s eyes. He pulled him close mumbling apologies as he was unsure what else to do. But Patton held him back saying that he loved him. And that was good enough.

Because even without him, they were still a family. And while some could try to cause rifts and difficulties to break them up, Dee would always be there for them as their father- as their dad who asked for nothing in return.

~~~~~

Thank you so much for reading!!!!

Part One • Part Two (1/2) • Part Two (2/2) • Part Three

#roman sanders #sanders sides #virgil sanders #ao3fic #patton sanders #logan sanders #deciet sanders #dad!deciet #dad!dee #dad!au #formsoffamily #kidfic #thingsssssssssss

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heylir · 5 years

Text

(Prompt) Birds

Somewhat weird text with weird concept. The last part appeared already in the process as the comic page with library came up.

Cold gusts of autumn wind tore leaves from the trees, with sad cries of flying away birds accompanied its sobs. Sitting on a bench Ben looked up at a dark V of birds passing slowly across the sky.

"What is it?" he asked Verity.

She glanced briefly, "Wild geese. They fly southward."

"What for?"

"Escaping from Christmas," she chuckled.

Ben wrinkled his nose as he usually did when Vee said funny things. "But seriously?"

"There're warm countries in the South. They'll winter there and come back. Most birds do this." She looked up to the sky. "Would you like to fly, Benji? Like them, to Africa and back?"

He shrugged, "I think so... but how? Grandad Victor didn't want to finish his flying ship?"

"Nope," Vee kicked a little stone with the toe of his shoe. "Says, an outdated construction. He wants something faster. Works on sudden jumps, to make them longer, safe and more precise. Wouldn't it be great, wherever you want to be, you just go there?"

"Would be nice," agreed Ben. "Not so interesting. What use will be there in expeditions? If you can just appear at that place." Ben paused for thought. "Though... it won't work with the Third Anchor still? Too much of magic disturbances around it."

"Would you like to sail to the Third Anchor?" Vee asked, teasing him slightly.

"I'd like to read about it in books, every bit of everything. But for that, someone must sail to it and write about that." Ben looked up. "I wonder if any birds fly over the Anchor. Could they tell about it..."

Ben hated medicals. He can tell it was the thing he hated the most in his life as a student. It's why he went at it in the morning of its first day. In addition, he hoped for the fewer people would be there at that time, and it was so.

The procedure took no more than half an hour and went as expected. At the final stage, as usual, a wizard medic told Ben to roll up his sleeve and put a magic-circled disk to Ben's arm. His skin got tingled, there was a flink, then the disk beeped. The medic removed it and looked at the readings.

"Category C," he snorted. "Now what do these people even do there?"

Ben could stop his facial muscles from betraying his feelings. He knew that his face expressed nothing. It had always been his way of self-defence, an sure one, the only one — till Verity taught him some different ones. But they couldn't be used all the time, not in cases like this.

"Thackerey is one of the most studious students," the lecturer in the magic history said drily, from behind the medic's back. The rules demanded someone of the college staff present at the medicals.

"No doubt," the medic smiled sneeringly. "What else could this kind do?"

"We are quite satisfied with our student contingent," the lecturer remarked stiffly.

"Every man thinks his own geese swans," the medic wrote down Ben's readings into his card. "Of course, it isn't the Widdershins university, you must be content with what there is."

Ben saw that the lecturer's face became expressionless, too, and he couldn't be silent anymore.

"Geese can be useful, too," he stated. "It is said they saved Rome from the barbarian invaders... sir."

Unperturbed, the medic just looked through Ben and dismissed him. But Ben could see the lecturer smiling a bit and a student, who waited her turn, giving him the thumbs-up.

The part of Ben's job in the library he loved the least was the service to readers. It wasn't about freshmen who looked at catalogue boxes like they were differential equations (is it even possible to finish school without visiting some library?). Not about professors who had fathomed mysteries of magic and wasn't able to understand elementary things: that it is impossible to get a rare volume from "deeps" funds in a minute or even five minutes, and this fact can't be changed by the most extreme urgency or all of the academic distinctions or the magic spell "I just need to look at it". Not about readers of any age and ranks who filled in halves of order forms stubbornly in different ways, never mind instructions on forms, written up examples and his verbal warnings.

No, it was small routine things. The problem was...

Ben looked at a student girl who stood hesitant nearby the serving stand. It was a bad sign because ones who didn't know what to do but knew what they wanted would rush to librarians directly. Those who knew nothing at all usually hung around the doorway.

“Can I help you?” Ben asked politely, still hoping for the better.

“I just want to ask... are you Benjamin Thackerey?”

“I am,” Ben admitted, with a resigned inner sigh, because it was more concise and proper answer than, “My badge says so.”

“The very one? Who saved the University on All Sins’ Day?”

“I wasn’t alone,” Ben replied a bit stiffly.

“I know! Sidney Malik was here, too, we used to be in the same year!.. But it is you, yes?”

Ben simply nodded and started to turn the list of possible scenarios and his responses over in his mind.

Some people began to thank or praise him, making Ben wish to hide under the stand. Fortunately, he realised soon that “It was nothing” would be tactless. So he said just “I had good teachers.” and “I was in a good team.” Before students, he went into talking about the importance of good education and teamwork. No one was able to stand it longer than a minute.

Some people, with an interest Ben surely could understand, asked about other Deadlies. What worked there was “It’s a long story, and I’m paid not for talkings.”

And some people asked how Ben was able to win over Pride, and he said simply, “I don’t wish to discuss that.”

At that time the girl worked up the nerve and blurted out, “ Can I have your autograph?”

The fourth option, then. Ben took a sheet of paper from a pile and picked up a writing feather.

The senior librarian James Greene returned from his lunch at last to take Ben’s place.

“Too many fans?” he asked with sympathy. Ben made a vague gesture. “It’s not so bad,” he tried to cheer up Ben. “I think a few people would like to be in your place.”

“No,” Ben said earnestly. “No one wishes to be in someone else’s place, really. People just think that they want this. I did that, too,” he added in a low tone.

The librarian smiled, “Are you going to your lunch?”

“If you don’t mind, sir, I’d rather work in the section of manuscripts and engravings. Miss Stevens says, they made no dedusting this year and the last inventory-revision was five years ago. Permission to deal with it in my free time?”

“No permission,” frowned Greene. “You’re supposed to work in your work time. To have lunch in your lunch break, and get rest in your free time. So you must eat at first, and then you may go to Ms Stevens, but don’t let her keep you till the end of your working day.”

“Yes, sir!”

Ben went vigorously on his usual way, now and then returned greetings from passing people. He felt nothing beyond a weak hunger and wishing to resume his work as soon as he has his lunch. The University stopped being the place that only fortunate ones, like Blake and Bryony, could belong to. There was no more envy or feeling of inferiority inside him, just eager anticipation of working with manuscripts. And the Main Hall was recalled without shame or pride, as an unpleasant, but a well-done job.

Ben didn’t feel like a goose between swans anymore.

#bentober

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wistfulcynic · 5 years

Text

Their Way By Moonlight: Emma (Chapter 4)

Notes: Thank you as always for your comments and feedback, though I confess I've been a bit taken aback by the vehement reaction to Emma and Walsh's cursed marriage. It seems that people hate Walsh in a much more visceral way than I anticipated.

I do truly appreciate all of you who are reading this, and especially those who have made supportive and encouraging comments. I’m really putting a lot into this one in terms of style, plot, and detail, and it’s hard not to get discouraged when I pour blood and sweat into something only to have everyone focus on one tiny thing. So to ease your minds, here is our first chapter from Emma’s POV. I think it will go a long way towards assuaging your fears about her circumstances under the curse. If you are considering bailing on this fic because of the Emma/Walsh situation, I would ask you please to read this chapter before you make a final decision.

As before, there are allusions to cursed relationships, and a potentially distressing scene of aggression within a cursed marriage.

Summary: A new curse has fallen on Storybrooke and this time the Saviour is trapped inside it, deliberately separated from her son and anyone else who might help her break it. But what no one knows –including her own cursed self– is that she and Hook are soulmates, working together within their shared dreams to find a way to break the curse and free everyone from the clutches of evil yet again. (Alternate 3B, set in the What Dreams May Come universe)

Rating: A hard M

Tagging: @teamhook @wellhellotragic @rouhn @kmomof4 @resident-of-storybrooke @darkcolinodonorgasm @jennjenn615@tiganasummertree @let-it-raines @bonbonpirate @thejollyroger-writer @lfh1962

Anyone wishing to be added to or dropped from this tag list, please let me know!

Read it on AO3

Emma:

Emma hesitated outside the door of the old cannery. She wasn’t quite certain of why she was there, or the reason behind the irresistible compulsion she felt to see its disconcertingly attractive new owner again. He had invited her to come by, though of course he’d meant later— the bookstore wasn’t even open yet. But Emma hadn’t been able to wait. Two days had passed since they’d met, since that brief but oddly intense conversation in Granny’s, and she had been unable to get Killian Jones and his son out of her head. Something about them, about him, pulled at her, and it wasn’t just his striking looks, not even the beautiful blue eyes with their expression of profound, compelling sadness. It was something deeper. She felt somehow as though she knew him, and more astoundingly that he knew her, better than anyone, better even than her own husband. Although, she thought with a small start, as though the idea had only just occurred to her, Walsh barely even took the trouble to speak to her these days, much less keep up with what was going on in her life. She’d been meaning to talk to him about that, she remembered suddenly. Yes. She’d been meaning to talk to him about a lot of things, but when the time came to do so she always seemed to forget. Tonight, she promised herself, making a mental note. Tonight they would finally talk. She wouldn’t forget this time.

Gathering her courage, Emma reached for the doorknob with her right hand, the palm of which still tingled from her brief handshake with Killian two days ago, and as she opened the door she remembered how the night before last her sleep had been troubled by disturbing dreams. She could recall only wisps of them, but she was certain he had been in them, he and his eyes, doing things to her that she couldn’t bear to think about in the light of day. Things she couldn’t bear to admit she had loved.

She really should stay far away from him. And yet here she was, in his shop.

She pushed the door open and stepped inside, gasping at the sight before her. The room was simply lovely, bright and airy, with sunlight pouring in through the wide windows, dancing across the exposed brick walls and the antique looking dark-wood shelves that stood tall in four distinct sections around the room. A heavy mahogany desk sat opposite the door, elegantly carved with nautical designs: ships and storms, mermaids and other sea creatures she couldn’t put a name to, all rendered in exquisite detail. Atop it was an antique metal cash register, as elegantly decorated as the desk, sitting alongside, Emma was amused to note, a decidedly modern portable card reader attached to an iPad. Someone had a taste for the ancient but enough sense to appreciate the modern, she thought.

She was so caught up in admiration of her surroundings that she didn’t notice Killian’s arrival until he spoke.

“Swan?” The sound of his voice seemed to wrap around her, as deep and sonorous as she remembered, almost caressing her name. She turned to see him standing at the foot of the stairs. “What are you doing here?”

“Um,” she said, feeling abruptly hot and itchy. How was it possible that he could be even better looking than she remembered? Admittedly she hadn’t really had a good look at Granny’s, though she had definitely noticed his face, but now as he stood by the black wrought-iron staircase that wound in a perfect helix up to a hole in the ceiling, his expression briefly unguarded and searingly intense, she had an opportunity to ogle.

He wore dark grey trousers in a soft woolen twill and an equally soft looking v-neck sweater in a shade of blue that made his eyes stand out even more. A tuft of dark hair peeked out just above the vee, and the itch in Emma’s palm flared to life again with the desire to touch it, to touch him. Everything about him seemed so eminently touchable. The sweater clung to his lean frame just tightly enough to show how fit he was, and his hair was tousled in a way that looked both deliberate and as though it could have been caused by fingers being run through it in the heat of passion.

What? Emma shook herself. Where the hell did that come from? Remember you’re married. And it’s not like you know anything about the heat of passion, anyway. At least, that’s what Walsh always told her, what he always gave as an excuse for why he didn’t want to touch her. She was cold, he said. Too hard. Not enough. She forced back those thoughts, promising herself once again that she would sit down with Walsh that evening and discuss the problems in their marriage. She dreaded it, but she had to try. They couldn’t go on much longer like this.

“Uh,” she tried again to respond to Killian’s question. “You said I should come by.”

“So I did, though I didn’t expect you quite so soon. I’m afraid we’re not open yet.”

“Yeah, sorry, it was stupid,” she said, turning away. “I was just passing and I thought— never mind, I’ll go—”

“No!” She looked back at him, startled at the vehemence in his voice. He flushed faintly pink and reached up to rub at a spot behind his right ear. “No, you don’t have to go. Please don’t, in fact. I’d be happy to, um, give you a tour? If you’d like.”

He looked hesitant but also eager, like he really, really wanted her to stay. She smiled. It felt like a long time since anyone had actually desired her company.

“Okay,” she said, a bit shyly. “I’d like that.”

A bright smile broke across his face, warm and soft and with just a hint of something wicked beneath it. For a moment Emma forgot to breathe. God, he’s gorgeous.

“Well, why don’t we start here?” he said, coming to stand beside her and indicating the near corner of the room with his left arm. His sleeve was pushed up slightly and she could see the seam where his prosthetic hand joined his arm. She realised with surprise that she hadn’t noticed the other day that he was missing his left hand. He’s missing his left hand. Why did that fact seem so significant to her? It tickled at the back of her mind, like something she needed to remember but couldn’t quite pull from her subconscious.

“So we’re still waiting on some inventory, but you can see the general layout of the shop,” he was saying. “Reference material is here at the front, with theory guides just here behind it. The practical manuals we have to be a bit more careful with, so they’re back in this corner, some of them will be locked in a special glass cupboard, available on request only. Then here in this corner we have the historical context.”

Emma frowned, looking more closely at the titles of the books that already graced the shelves. Rare volumes, he’d said the other day, but these were all—

“These are books of magic!” she cried.

“Oh, aye, did I not mention? That’s our specialty. Books of and about magic.”

She started to laugh, then trailed off when she noticed he didn’t join her. “But you’re not serious?”

“Very serious.”

“Books of magic.”

“And about magic, aye.”

“But— magic isn’t real.”

“There are quite a number of people who would disagree with that assessment, Sheriff.”

“And you’re one of them?” Her voice was rife with disbelief.

“Aye,” he replied, and the sincerity in his face and tone were unmistakable. “I am.”

She shook her head. “I would never have pegged you as someone with an interest in the occult. You seem so, I dont know, practical.”

“Oh, I’m very practical, love, but that doesn’t mean I can’t believe in magic.”

She wanted to deny his words, really it was so absurd, but she realised with another start of surprise that she was genuinely interested, almost despite herself, curious to the point of fascination. “Will you tell me about them?”

He exhaled deeply, almost as if he had been holding his breath waiting for her reaction, and gave her another dazzling smile. “It would be my pleasure.”

Nearly two hours later they were sitting on the floor surrounded by books, and Emma’s head was buzzing with stories of witches and wizards, covens and cults, fascinating details concerning the history and practice of magical arts. She felt like she had learned more in that short time than she had before in the whole of her life. Of course, her earlier education had been… it had been… what? She couldn’t recall. Frowning, she tried to remember where she had gone to school, the names of her teachers, fellow classmates, anything, but it was all a blank.

“Emma?” She turned to see Killian looking at her inquiringly. “Are you all right, love?”

She should really object to that ‘love’, she knew, but couldn’t bring herself to. She liked it. It made her feel warm inside.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a bit distracted.”

He nodded, and reached out to close one of the books. “We’ve been talking for a long time,” he said. “Perhaps we could take a break?”

She watched carefully as he used the prosthetic hand to close the book. The hand moved, she noticed, clearly it had some sort of mechanism operating it, but he seemed to mange it awkwardly, as though not quite used to it. She wondered how long he’d had— “When did you lose your hand?” she blurted, then flushed. “Sorry, it’s none of my business.”

He looked startled, then smiled. “No, it’s fine. It’s been so long, I don’t mind speaking of it anymore.”

“How long?”

“Oh, years and years.”

“What happened? Er, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“Not at all. It was stupid, really. I was young, I got in a fight. Over a woman. Woke up the next day with no hand.”

“I’m so sorry.”

He shrugged. “Like I said it was years ago.”

“Mmmmm.”

“What is it, Swan?” He looked almost expectant, like he knew the gears were turning in her head and was excited to see what they would spit out. She felt again the odd, unfamiliar sensation of being the focus of genuine interest. He truly seemed to care about what she had to say, for no reason other than that she was saying it.

“It’s just— well, you don’t seem very comfortable with the artificial one. If it’s been so long, I guess I would have thought you’d be more used to it by now.”

“Ah, well that’s explained easily enough. I lost my hand so long ago that the prosthetics that were available to me at the time were, um, let’s say primitive. This one however is quite new. State of the art, they tell me. It works by interacting with the electrical impulses in my muscle fibres, apparently. So you see, until quite recently I had a much simpler one, and this one, while far better in many ways, is taking a bit of time to adjust to.”

Every word he spoke was the truth, she could detect no dishonesty in his face or manner, yet she sensed it wasn’t the whole story either. He was leaving out important details. And she wondered why.

As he spoke he adjusted the prosthetic with his right hand, drawing her attention to the thick, engraved silver band he wore on its ring finger. A wedding ring? she wondered. It must be. A man with no left hand would naturally wear his wedding band on his right, wouldn’t he? Especially if until recently he’d worn a simpler prosthesis, one with no fingers.

She wondered, and not for the first time, about Henry’s mother. Killian’s face when he’d spoken of her in Granny’s had worn for a brief moment such a devastated expression, her loss must still be fresh and painful for him. In a weird way that made her feel better about having sought him out and spent so long talking with him. She was married, he a grieving widower, what harm could there be in a friendship between them? She certainly wouldn’t have to worry about anything coming of the fierce attraction she felt for him. Even if he felt it too, he would never act on it. He was very obviously still in love with his wife, and Emma somehow knew beyond any doubt that he was not a man to betray those he loved.

“So, um, it’s ah, lunchtime,” he said, scratching behind his ear again. “And it seems we both could use a break. Would you care to join me? For some lunch?”

“Sure, I guess. Where were you going to go?”

“I—, uh, we live upstairs,” he gestured towards the staircase. “The third floor is a loft apartment, I was just going to go up and make a sandwich.”

Alone with him in his apartment. Emma’s heart thundered. “A sandwich sounds great,” she managed to say. “Can you do grilled cheese?”

His face twisted for a moment into the strangest expression, half blissful happiness, half like he wanted to cry. “I can,” he said, his voice hoarse. “It’s my son’s favourite.”

“In that case, I’d love to join you.”

The grilled cheese was perfect, exactly the way she liked it. She told him as much, and was rewarded with another half-delighted, half-sad expression. “I’m glad I haven’t lost my touch,” he said, almost to himself.

“What do you mean?”

“Grilled cheese is— Henry’s mother’s favourite as well,” he said quietly. “Since we lost her we don’t make it as often as we used to.”

Emma didn’t quite know how to respond to that, so she crunched her sandwich in slightly awkward silence as he busied himself at the stove, avoiding looking at him until he slid a cup in front of her. “What’s this?” she asked in surprise.

“Traditional Jones family accompaniment to grilled cheese,” he replied.

She picked up the mug and inhaled over it. “Hot chocolate with— is that cinnamon?”

“Aye. It’s a bit odd I’ll grant you, and if I’m honest I prefer it plain, but that’s how Henry likes it.”

“Seriously? You’re telling me your son likes cinnamon on his hot chocolate.”

“Aye.” He seemed to be watching her carefully.

“Grilled cheese and hot chocolate with cinnamon is my favourite lunch,” she said. “You’re basically telling me that I have the same tastes as your thirteen year old kid.”

“Would it help if I confessed to an affinity for it as well?” he asked, his face deadpan but with amusement twinkling in his eyes.

“It might.”

“Very well, I confess it, but you mustn’t ever tell Henry. I’d never get him to eat a vegetable again if he thought he could wheedle grilled cheese out of me every night.”

“It’s a deal.”

The earlier awkwardness was dispelled, and as Killian sat down to eat his sandwich Emma sipped her chocolate —it too was perfect— making it last as long as possible. There was no way she could justify staying any longer once lunch was over, and she didn’t want to go. She felt comfortable with Killian, and happy, things she couldn’t remember feeling in a long, long time. Later she knew she would need to analyse these feelings, but for now she simply wished to feel them.

When the last drop was finally drained she set the cup down on the counter, then realised it might be nice if she took it to the sink instead and went to pick it up again, at the same time as Killian reached for it himself. Her hand closed around it first followed a second later by his, his fingers linking with hers in a way that felt so natural that it didn’t even occur to her to question it, simply laughing lightly as they released the cup but not each other’s hands. His thumb caressed her bare ring finger. “You don’t wear a wedding ring,” he said softly.

She could barely breathe her heart was pounding so hard, the gentle movements of his thumb sending sparks coursing up her arm, reverberating through her whole body. “Um,” she said, trying to think. “No, I — I have one of course, but I don’t wear it.”

“Why not?”

“Er.” She tried to remember. There was a reason, surely? “I can’t with— with my job. It gets in the way.” Yes, that must be it.

“Ah.” Something in his tone suggested he didn’t quite believe her, but before she could reply he had released her hand and turned away, picking up the mug and putting it in the sink.

“I like yours though,” she said abruptly. Where did that come from?

“What?” He turned, giving her an odd look.

“Your wedding ring.” She reached out and took his hand again, this time caressing the silver band upon the third finger with her own thumb. “It is a wedding ring, isn’t it?”

He cleared his throat. “Aye.”

“Henry’s mother.” It wasn’t a question and so required no answer, but he gave one anyway. “Aye.” The sadness was back in his voice, this time untempered by any joy.

Emma smiled, feeling suddenly swamped by sadness herself. She felt such a connection to this man, unlike anything she’d ever felt before, and she hated to think of him hurting.

Briefly she allowed herself a rare, uncharacteristic moment of self-indulgence to wonder what it would be like to be loved as devotedly as Killian loved his wife. To be loved even after she was gone. To have such an emotion, from such a man. Swallowing back tears, she looked up at him. “She had good taste. This is exactly the sort of ring I would have chosen.”

“She’s an extraordinary woman,” he replied, his voice rough with emotion, his eyes blazing with it.

Emma nodded, wishing she knew why that remark left such a clutching, squeezing sensation around her heart.

“Well I should go,” she said, releasing his hand.

He swallowed hard then gave her a small smile, a tight, guarded thing that squeezed her heart again. He looked so sad. She wanted to see the bright, wicked grin from earlier.

“May I see you out?” he asked politely, his emotions under control again.

She shook her head, already moving towards the door. “No, it’s fine. But thanks.”

“Any time, love.”

Her hand was on the doorknob when he spoke again. “Emma.”

She looked back at him, gripped by the wild, irrational hope that he might ask her to stay. “What about your husband?” he asked.

“Who?” She frowned in confusion, then remembered. “Oh, Walsh.” Why had she forgotten him? “What about him?”

“Does he not wear a ring?”

“Of course he does.” Didn’t he? “Why do you ask?”

“It’s just that you said ‘would have chosen.’” Killian’s face was calm, but that intensity was back in his eyes.

“What?”

“Just now, when you looked at my ring you said it’s exactly what you would have chosen. Not what you did choose.”

There was that confusion again, swirling through her brain and blocking her thoughts. Why couldn’t she think? “I— I must have misspoken.” She rubbed her forehead, which had started to ache.

He was silent for a long moment before replying. “Of course, I’m sure that’s it. Goodbye, Sheriff.”

Emma smiled tightly and left.

When she arrived home that evening, Emma sought out Walsh in his study. He didn’t like her bothering him there but she was confused, her head spinning with questions that needed answers. She’d spent the afternoon in her office with the lights dimmed, nursing her headache and making a list of all the questions she needed to ask him, everything that was odd in their relationship and in her life. It was a long list. Why hadn’t she ever talked to him before? She’d been unhappy for so long…

“What is it, Emma?” Walsh’s voice was cold.

“I just— wanted to talk to you. About some things.”

He turned and fixed her with the icy, probing stare that never failed to make her tongue-tied and anxious. She wanted to flee, back to the relative safety of the living room, where Walsh rarely went. No! You need answers! Stay strong!

“Some things,” Walsh repeated.

“Y-yes.”

“Well go on,” he waved his hand at her and adopted an expression of exaggerated patience. “We haven’t got all night. What are these ‘things’ that are suddenly so important?”

Emma had spent an hour memorising her list of questions, but now she could only remember one.

“Why don’t you wear a wedding ring?” she burst out. “Why don’t I?”

“Of— of course I wear one!” Walsh looked genuinely surprised, his composure slipping enough to rejuvenate her resolve.

“Walsh I am looking at your hand right now and it is bare,” she said. “Neither of us wear rings. I’m certain I have one, I remember it, but where is it? Why did I stop wearing it?” He gaped at her and she seized her opportunity, letting months worth of questions flood out. “And why don’t we do anything together any more? What happened to our friends? I remember— I think I remember that we used to go out, do things as a couple, with other couples. But we have no friends now, and I stay in alone every night. I feel like I never see you these days, you’re hardly ever home, you never want to have sex—” she broke off as a look of revulsion crossed Walsh’s face, crushing her, stopping the words in her throat. Your own husband finds you repulsive, she thought bitterly, and a small voice at the very back of her consciousness piped up with a single word. “Why?”

What? thought Emma, and the voice elaborated. “Dont you want to know why?”

A memory flashed through her mind, although no, not a memory, it couldn’t be, but it felt like a memory. The blue, blue eyes of Killian Jones, warm with adoration, his deep voice, his hand in her hair. “You’re so beautiful, Emma,” he whispered. “So utterly, heartbreakingly beautiful.”

“Walsh, what’s going on?” she asked, suddenly angry, furious, incandescent with rage. “There’s something very wrong here, and I think you’re behind it. Tell me what it is. Tell me what you’ve done to me!”

Walsh’s face twisted into a terrifying snarl and he grabbed her arm, pulling her towards him until they were nose-to-nose, drowning her anger in fear. “Why are you asking these questions all of a sudden?” he hissed, “Does it by any chance have something to do with our new neighbourhood bookseller?”

“Wh— what?” Emma scrambled to lie, to protect Killian. “No! Of course not.”

“You’re a terrible liar, Emma.” Walsh sighed, his face falling back into its usual supercilious, condescending expression. Still holding her arm he turned and picked something up from his desk, a small box in silver filigree, beautiful in a cold and terrible way. “Fortunately it won’t matter. Come morning you’ll be yourself again. Or one of your selves, anyway.” He opened the box with a flick of his thumb and blew a harsh puff of air into it, sending a shower of glittering grey particles flying into Emma’s eyes. She gasped, then collapsed. Walsh held her up with his grip on her arm, then gave her a shove back into the sofa behind her. “That should take care of you for now,” he muttered, looking down at her unconscious form. “It appears that the pirate works faster than I had anticipated. Of course very little that we anticipated about him has turned out to be true. How he even managed to get here in the first place is something I would very much like to know. He is supposed to be stuck in Neverland.” He paused, smirking. “The power of true love, I suppose,” he said, sneering the words. “But he’ll soon be dealt with, him and your son. And now, ‘wife’, off to bed with you.” He waved his hand and Emma disappeared in a puff of green smoke.

When she awoke the next morning, alone in her bed as always, all her doubts and worries about her marriage along with all recollection of her confrontation with Walsh were gone.

Her memories of the time she’d spent with Killian Jones, however, were not.

Notes: I hope this makes you feel a bit better (but still interested enough to want more!).

#cs ff #cursed storybrooke #captain swan #captain cobra #cursed captain swan #mystery #angst #canon divergence #alternative 3b #their way by moonlight #profdanglaisstuff

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tanadidreamer · 5 years

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For The Love Of.....

Notes: Solus Vetra belongs to the wonderful @overcaffeinated-creative!

Tiberius let out a content sigh as he curled up against the nice, warm body beside him while a hand played with his hair and the little bundle between them curled up against him. “How about I go get some caf made up?” Eli asked thoughtfully as he moved his hand down to Tib’s shoulder to give him a light shake. “Pre has scheduled a meeting for this morning, remember? And we should have the wake up call in three, two…..”.

As on cue, a certain little ball of unholy energy slammed the door open and ran into the room, then right up to Eli’s side of the bed. “Breakfast!” The paint brat announced as he beamed up at them, which caused Tib to let out a defeated sigh while Eli ruffled Jona’s hair.

“Thank you, Jona.” Eli answered. “Shouldn’t you be helping your buir feed Tristan?”.

“Tristan likes art too.” Jona reasoned as he looked at Tiberius and Aveza curiously. “Is Unca Tib an’ Vee still sleepin’?”.

“No, they’re grumpy at Uncle Pre. We have a very important meeting this morning.”.

Jona nod slightly. “I’ll go tell Mama to start the caf!” And with that, the brat bolted out of the room while Tib sat up and moved Aveza to his lap, earning a fussy whine in response.

“See, even he knows I hate mornings and Ziva’s going to be like this for the rest of the day.” Tiberius pointed out as he frowned at Aveza’s mess of hair, which caused Eli to chuckle. “Why did he have to plan it this early? Does he want me to kick Dred’s ass?”.

“Everybody has fun watching you deck whichever dumbass disrespects Clan Vizsla.”.

Tiberius rolled his eyes in response as he got off the bed with Aveza in his arms and walked out of the room, he smiled slightly as he felt the childish excitement from the boys. It was a nice feeling this early in the morning.

“There’s the smile.” Eli muttered cheerfully as he fell into step besides the younger man as they walked towards the kitchen of the rather large complex, which caused Tib to lean against him.

Pre watched as a particular young couple entered the kitchen, which resulted in Tiberius passing Aveza to her father and making a beeline to the counter to get his first cup of caf, it took at least three for him to reasonable during morning meetings.

“Ah, ah, ah, go sit down with Solus.” Pre said as he intercepted the younger man and redirected him towards the table, where Solus as sluggishly drinking her own caf.

Tiberius sighed but complied nonetheless and swiped Aveza back from Eli in the process before settling on the chair and started combing his fingers through her hair. “We should start stashing a hairbrush in here.” Tiberius muttered as Aveza rubbed at her eyes.

“Meanie.” The two-year-old stated as she glared at Pre.

“Daddy will kick his butt later when we’re sparring.” Tiberius assured her as he glared evilly at Pre, who rolled his eyes and retrieved the hairbrush that Bo-Katan had actually stashed by the caf maker and walked over it to his half-brother with the peace offering. “When does the meeting start anyway?”

“Now, actually.” Pre answered as Eli walked over with a mug of caf and handed it to Tiberius who looked at Pre as if he suddenly grew a second head.

“Where is everybody?”.

“Here. Tiberius, you remember that recent job on Coruscant, don’t you?” Pre asked as he nod towards Solus who was giving him the same confused look. “Solus Vetra, this is my younger half-brother, Tiberius.”,

Tiberius stared at him for a moment before looking at Solus. “Wait…...she’s that Jedi that jumped your sorry ass, right?” Tiberius asked slowly as it dawned on him who the former Jedi was as he stared at her. “You tried to kill me on Coruscant.”.

“I….That was you?” Solus asked in a bit of surprise as the two stared at each other while Aveza glared at Pre, and at least one of them were awake.

Pre looked down as Jona tugged on his pants leg and smiled at the boy who simply gave him an Ursa’s classic unimpressed look. “I has new paint.” Jona stated ominously.

“And your mother needs to limit your exposure to your Auntie Bo.” Pre responded, although a bit disturbed that he was being threatened by a three-year-old and noticed a very familiar, and rather rude gesture Solus gave him before she turned her attention back to Tiberius.

“It’s really too early for this, can I go back to bed, please?” Tib asked as he pushed the mug away and glared at Pre.

“Yeah, and save this for later? When we’re both more aware too?” Solus added as she cast a glare at Pre as well.

“I get it, you can find a date on your own, but making me wake up at this Force forsaken hour isn’t worth it.” Tib turned his attention back to the Kiffar toddler. “When was the last time you checked on the affairs of our clan?”.

“I want you two to meet in a more peaceful situation.” And Pre had checked in, he knew there was some difficulties over the affiliations right now, and Satine seemed to find it necessary to grill Tiberius over his own affiliations.

“Daddy?” Aveza asked as she glared at Pre. “Can we throws hairbrush at Unca Pre, pwease?”.

“Yep.” Solus answered as she smiled at the girl who looked at her then proceed to ruffle the brat’s hair, which earned an annoyed sigh from Tib. “We can certainly do that, since Uncle Pre needs to learn that some people like to sleep.”.

Tiberius pointed the brush at Pre. “Three against one, brother dear.” Tib stated as he proceed to do as the brat requested, which was intercepted by Ursa. “Ursa! Come on, he deserves it!”.

“I won’t disagree with you on that, Tiberius, but why don’t your return to bed? I rather not deal with you acting like this for the rest of the day.” Ursa stated sternly and glared at the count who glared right back for a few seconds Tib to sigh and push his chair back and turn towards the door with Aveza, then leave without another word. “Solus, why don’t you go back to bed too? Which means,” Ursa looked towards her eldest. “Jona, could you show Auntie Solus her room, please?”.

“Okay, Mama!” Jona rushed over and grabbed Solus’s hand. “C’mon, Auntie! Boo choose a room with lots of art an’ a fluffy bed for you!”.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming.” Solus said fondly as she picked Jona up, who grinned happily. “Ursa! I think I might keep him!”.

“Feel free.” Ursa said as the brat winked at them before the pair left the room.

“That went better than expected.” Eli piped up as he sipped at his own caf. “Alrich and I fully expected them to go berserk on you.”.

“Thank you for the vote of confidence, gentlemen.” Pre snipped at the Kiffar who smirked at him while Alrich ignored him as he tried to clean Tristan’s hands.

“Next time, listen to me when I tell you something.” Ursa said as she pointed the hairbrush at him with an unimpressed look. “A more peaceful situation would be any time but the morning. Even a battlefield.”.

“I’ll handle the proper introduction this time.” Alrich adds as he gave Pre the same unimpressed look, and Pre had no problems admitting he messed up either.

#my writing #fanfic #ursa wren #alrich wren #tristan wren #my ocs #jona wren #aveza vizsla-zeth #eli zeth #tiberius vizsla #friend's oc #solus vetra #pre vizsla #Pre made a grave mistake #Tib and Solus are not morning people at alll #Aveza is doing a bit better #Jona being Jona

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masterofhamsters · 6 years

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Fire Emblem: Three Houses Impressions

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OmbxSMGd1Uk

Okay, I feel like I should talk about the new Fire Emblem game that was announced at E3 yesterday. Since my reactions are often delayed or skewed due to hype, I thought I should wait a while to digest everything about the trailer.

There a couple of points I wanted touch on, both negative and positive, about the trailer and my hopes for the game before the final release. Since I want to end this post on a good note, I’ll start with the negatives first.

Negatives:

- The title. Three Houses sounds like it’s too on-the-nose to be a strong subtitle for a Fire Emblem game. Based on the trailer, we know that there will be three major factions in the story. If I were to hazard a guess, these are supposed to be the “three houses” the game is referring to. While yeah, other Fire Emblem games did have on-the-nose subtitles (looking at you, Sacred Stones and Shadow Dragon), I felt like they were vague enough to keep you intrigued. Three Houses doesn’t convey that same feeling. Why not something like Fire Emblem: Trinity instead? That one’s free, Intelligence Systems.

- Squad models. Since this is the first Fire Emblem game on a console since Radiant Dawn, it was a given that they would take as much advantage of the Switch’s graphical fidelity as much as possible. In order to make the battlefields less empty, they added in squad members with each unit to make combat look more involved. I think this is a great idea, but it’s a bit jarring that the models are basically just copy and pasted of the same person. A little more variety would be nice and I’d like them to look less like a Dynasty Warriors minion.

- Byleth. Okay, this is more speculation rather than a negative of the game as of now. From what I can tell, I think they’re trying to frame Byleth as the main character but not once does he speak throughout the trailer. In fact, the trailer was narrated by Edelgard (voiced by the wonderful Cristina Vee, by the way). This makes me a bit wary because I have a feeling that he might be a customizable avatar. When I think about that, I look back at characters like Robin and Corrin who I personally feel would have benefited had they’ve been their own characters as opposed to blank slates, Corrin especially. Hopefully Byleth doesn’t play as big as a part in the story as the other two or be a silent protagonist.

Positives:

- The art style. I’m loving the Persona-like art style this game is going for. I don’t hate Kozaki’s art style at all, but I feel like it led to rather... questionable designs. Camilla immediately springs to mind but it doesn’t end there. The armor knight designs are particularly dumb in Awakening and female Paladins looks like they have a hardcore wedgie. The art style in Three Houses is quite nice and carves an identity for itself within the Fire Emblem franchise.

- The world map. I know this is a silly thing to praise, but man, I’m so glad they’re actually bothering to world build this new continent of Fódlan. Having a continent name alone already makes the world building better than Fates. Hopefully they won’t add in pointless factions like the tribes that contribute literally nothing to the overall narrative.

- Weapon durability. I really missed this. Weapon durability and item management was honestly part of the challenge of older Fire Emblem games. Don’t get me wrong Fates tried its best to balance unbreakable weapons and Shadows of Valentia did it as well as its mechanics allowed it to, but this will put back the “strategy” in “strategy RPG”. While yeah, it’s nice to treat Fire Emblem as a classical RPG, it’s not. You’re expected to use all the resources in your arsenal in order to accomplish your objective. If you purposefully limit yourself because you don’t want to break your weapons, then that’s on you, not the game.

Things to be wary of:

- The possibility of split paths. While I’m okay with the idea of multiple paths and endings, I just hope they keep all of those paths in the same game cartridge. The fact that I had to pay $80 for the disaster of the plot that is Fates infuriates me to this day.

- The map design. Seeing the 3D models from the overhead view makes the maps look a little too empty. I guess doing the over-the-shoulder view works fine but then that goes back to my complaint of how the squad models look kinda weird.

Overall, I really look forward to this game and the delay to Spring 2019 is for the best because it looks like they do need more time than they expected. I’m really just glad we finally got new information after over a year of silence. I just don’t want to hype myself up too much because the last time I did that, Fates hit me with a curveball with how un-fun it was to me. I’m not asking Three Houses to be the second coming of Tellius, but dear lord I hope it’s a good game.

#Fire Emblem #Fire Emblem Three Houses #Fire Emblem: Three Houses #FE16 #Edelgard #Byleth #Claude #Dmitri #Long post #My impressions

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tmnt-veelicious · 6 years

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Across the Stars - Ch.1

Eyyoooo, first chapter of my TMNT fanfic :’) Now, what the fawck is going on? Welp, it’s a lil’ lovey-dovey story based on the 2014-2016 universe. The turtles are aged up to their mid 20′s.Aaannd it’s going to be rated mature (especially for language, anxiety/depression mentions, explicit stuff and future sex scenes yaasss). The main pairing is DonatelloXOC (self-insert). If you’re not a fan of that, it’s perfectly understandable and you may go on your merry way~. Writing this kind of stuff helps me with my own anxiety ( ´ ▽ ` )b heh Also I want to apologize in advance for any errors I may make. My first language is French and sometimes my brain farts some nonsense. I always try to correct things as fast as I can though ! ANYWHOOORE, time for some reading ! Enjoy :) First Chapter --> You’re here mah precious Next Chapter --> HERE

Done. That was the only word that went through Vee's mind as she closed the apartment's door behind her, leaning into it with a long sigh. She was done with the day, done with her exhausting shift at work. Done with life. Hanging her black trench coat and removing her autumn boots, she wandered to the kitchen, finding the place void of any other presence. April O'Neil, her roomate, had been rather occupied with her job, being a reporter for Channel 6 no easy thing. Also Vee was noticing how the other woman was somehow avoiding her for an unknown reason... She shrugged, trying to chase the thoughts away, filling an electric kettle with water in order to prepare a cup of tea. As she was waiting for the water to boil, she stopped to a standing mirror, grabbing her long light brown hair so she could assemble them in a messy bun. She couldn't help noticing the dark circles under her green eyes, a clear sign of fatigue and stress. A new sigh escaped her lips as she pushed on her glasses, repositionning them to their rightful place. Ever since she moved in to New York city, six months ago, she felt like her spark was vanishing with each passing months. Coming from Montréal, Canada, to work and live here had been a big step in her life, but it had also been a dued change. Her initial thrill and thirst for adventure had fueled her, dreaming of the endless possibilities New York's creative scene could offer her... Alas, she was nothing more but a single raindrop in a massive ocean of artists just like her. Was her life reduced to the endless loop of eat-work-sleep? Indeed. And she despised it. Especially since her job consisted of folding clothes and being a cashier to bratty customers who would complain day and night about not finding the perfect size of jeans or t-shirt. So exciting!... At least it paid the bills and rent. Click Vee turned to the kettle, mindlessly pouring hot water in a cup and dropping a bag of green tea, next making her way towards her bedroom. The place wasn't too big, only offering enough space for her double size bed, a desk on which sat her laptop and, not too far, her prized electric piano, most practical when she needed to practice and would only need to plug in headphones so only she could hear the precious melodies. Vee was an artist in many forms. From music to drawing, with a side of writing, she have had the opportunity to lay her hands on many projects, also spending a good part of her past twenty-five years in schools and colleges, studying and mastering her creative side. Vee was a dreamer, her mind always up and running, never at peace. She had so many ideas and so little time... At some point she wished she could just puke them out of her brain, knowing it'd be way easier to sort them out. Instead, she had a wall filled with post-its, papers, anything that she could write on, filled with words, drawings, things that inspired her or wouldn't just leave her thoughts. That was her way of keeping a planner, knowing it'd be way too frustrating to flip through many pages of a book only to find THE idea she'd be looking for! Undressing so she could put on a large t-shirt and keep her legs free of any pants' restraint, she plopped on her chair, facing her desk and turned on her laptop, the screen's light blaring through her unamused, souless even, expression. Her fingers moved expertedly over her keyboard, typing in her password, next sipping her tea without care. Her thoughts slowly started to shift to a new subject. Him. She hoped he'd be online... A month or two before she departed from Montréal, she had started to notice the sudden interest of a new follower on her various online accounts. At first she didn’t mind, but soon both began to chat and discovered that they had many interests in common. They liked talking about science, sending eachothers stupid memes and simply going from serious conversations to hilarious ones. He said his name was Donatello. A bit of a pretentious name. It was certainly not his real one (or else his parents must have been total Renaissance nerds). And his username was no better: donino, a simple mix of his name and that domino pizza place. He liked pizza. URG. STUPID PUNS. Vee smiled when she noticed he was on, already opening a chatbox. (veelicious): Afbabshabvdfshdsbf (donino): Hi? (veelicious): My brain is trying to reboot. (donino): Long day I presume? (veelicious): HMMMRRR I wish I could land on a good job opportunity in my domain rather than hearing people complain about how they'll just go to another store only because we don't have an item that ran out of stock. (veelicious): I'm not even complaining. Go shop somewhere else, customer from hell. I won't miss your needy ass. (donino): Yikes! Sorry people can be such dickheads :( …. Have you tried looking for another place? I could help you search? (veelicious): You're sweet, Don, but you don't need to go into all that trouble for me. Don't worry, I'm always on the lookout for something else :) She always thought it was cute how he was always ready to help her. … Even though both were now living in the same city, they've never met. He would always give a reason to postpone any actual meeting and Vee couldn't help feeling hurt about that. They'd been chatting, both via text and voice, for a little bit more than half a year, developping a strong friendship …. Why would he deny seeing her? She suspected that he might be lying about living in the city, but on the other hand she couldn't believe that, the guy too truthful in nature. (donino): Is there anything I can do to help and make you feel better though? (veelicious): Yeah, what about a coffee date? She slapped her palm to her face, cursing herself. (donino): Vee idk... (veelicious): For fuck's sake Donnie, what could go wrong? I just want to get to know a new friendly face around here. (veelicious): I really enjoy talking to you. … April's been giving me the cold shoulder for some unknown reason, added to her being almost non-existent in this frickin' apartment. And now you just always come up with excuses. (veelicious): I may be a stupid introvert, but damn sometimes I just hate being alone. … I just want to talk. (donino): We can voice chat if you want. (veelicious): No Donnie. … I want to see you. I want to see your face, be able to put a picture over your name. I want to see you when you laugh. I want to see you smile. … Jfc, I don't bite. She took a long sip of her tea, her hands slightly shaking. She felt like she was confessing something, but deep down she just wanted to be able to hang out with someone other than herself, April or any stupid coworker... She got no answer for a good couple of minutes, knowing she had probably scared him. Ding Her eyes moved back to the screen. (donino): Tomorrow night. Come alone. Go on top of the building that's on the corner of 4th ave. and 12th st. (donino): … I know this sounds super creepy and weird as hell, but trust me, it's the only way. (donino): Oh and yeah, bring coffees :) Vee's eyes were now wide open, her heart suddenly beating hard. She was confused and excited, a large grin coming to her face. The request did sound off, but at least she FINALLY got a result. *** This september night felt chilly, the month nearing its end. Vee was glad to be holding the two cups of coffee, warming her hands. Wearing her black trench coat, she couldn't help snorting at the mental image of herself, dressed like some sort of hip business woman, walking fast with her coffees, ready to tackle any late work. HA! She wished. She found the place, a modest apartment building which had an emergency metal staircase to its side, Vee then going to it in order to reach the top. She found herself alone, gazing upon the nearby streets, sipping her cup from times to times and butteflies destroying her stomach due to stress. Why was she so anxious to meet him? The worst was probably that she had no idea what he looked like. He never described himself much, only stating that he wore glasses and was tall. At least that was a start? Vee was about to leave a cup down to check her phone that she heard a sound; someone clearing their throat to bring attention. She quickly turned towards the sound, noticing a form in the shadows. ''… Donnie?'' she asked. ''Uhm, yeah, hi.'' A large smile came on Vee's face, recognizing his voice. She proceeded to walk in his direction so she could hand him his cup, but was promptly stopped. ''Wait!'' his voice sounding slightly nervous. ''… This is hard for me, please, just stay where you are.'' Vee was confused but obeyed, her eyes trying to scan his form. He looked tall, easily over six feet! He seemed to be carrying some sort of gear- She heard him sigh, finally moving. The first word to come up in her mind was green. Then purple. Glasses. Golden eyes. Technology. Shell. Shell? Turtle?! They stood there, in complete silence, Donatello now immobile and in plain sight. He gulped, starting to feel anxious as he could only notice how wide Vee's eyes were now... ''Wow,'' she finally said. She walked to him, closing the distance. Donnie was tempted to fall back, but remained in place, his eyes never leaving the human. Vee handed him a cup, her hand slightly shaking, her gaze plunged in his. She felt his hand around hers, taking the cup, only then her mind was brought back to reality, trying to find words only to speak again: ''Is … is this why you never wanted to meet?'' she asked, now both her hands around her cup. The turtle swallowed hard again, trying to focus. ''Well, yeah!'' He finally frowned a little in disbelief, a hand going to his hip, trying to understand the situation. ''Wait,'' he puffed a little. ''No screaming? No fainting? Just 'wow'?'' Vee shrugged, unsure, taking a quick sip of coffee before commenting: ''Okay, let me say something else then. … Holy hell! There. Any better?'' A small laugh escaped her, mostly dued to stress, but she was quick to calm it, sighing. ''Look... I can't deny that I'm a bit scared right now, but I'm mostly curious. I mean, you're a walking, talking turtle person! Gee, that's not something you get to see everyday, at least for me.'' ''… You don't think I'm a monster?'' he asked shyly. ''Oh please, what now? Monster is a synonym for 'bad'? Am I supposed to be afraid senseless and run away? … As I'm aware, you're a good person.'' Donatello's fingers fiddled on his cup. ''… I- I don't know what to say,'' he mumbled. ''Vee, you're probably the first human to be kind when meeting me.'' The woman lifted her cup in a 'toast' gesture, a smirk on her lips. ''I'm your friend. If I were to scream and throw myself off this building in fear, that would make me a terrible one.'' Donnie clinked his cup to hers, a smile now on his face too. ''Glad that didn't happen then. I'll drink to that friendship.'' *** ''April, what the fuck?'' Vee said as soon as she entered the apartment and saw her roomate sitting on the couch, carelessly going through her phone. The brunette lifted her eyes: ''… Yes?'' Vee knew everything. Donatello had told her about how he knew April, how she'd be working with them – yes because there was a 'them' as in there were others like him! ''Why did you never tell me about Donatello being a freaking mutant turtle?'' April's body jolted back to life, sitting straight, her eyes wide open. ''Wait, how did you-'' ''I just met him,'' cut Vee, her hands resting on her hips, a deadpan, non amused look on her face. The reporter was at a loss for words, going through several emotions, trying to find the right words. ''… What, he actually met you? He told me he didn't want to.'' ''SEE! THIS! Why the secret? You knew I was talking to him. If he was so scared, why didn't he stop talking to me? What the fuck is going on?!'' April sighed, gesturing for Vee to come sit by her side. ''Vee, I'm sorry.'' She sounded sincere. ''Can you just understand that this situation was really … delicate? I can't just go around and tell people that I know some freakin' ninja turtles-'' ''Wait, ninjas?'' ''Yes, they're ninjas. Now don't interrupt me! … They've been living in secrecy for many years now and they come up at night to help around with justice and stuff. Their main goal around here is to protect the city.'' ''Wow, okay, so like some sort of super heroes?'' asked Vee, genuinely curious. ''Yes! Remember Shredder? The Technodrome? It's not Vern or the police that took care of all that, that was them! They run around, jumping and stuff and they fight back.... Usually they're very careful, but you had to fall upon the only one who's a real tech genius and probably spends more time on the internet than his brothers.'' She took Vee's hands, looking straight into her eyes. ''… How did you react when meeting him?'' ''I was surprised,'' answered the other with a small smile. ''I did not scream, although I was a bit scared, but I was just so happy to finally see him...'' ''Heh, lucky. First time I met them I fainted.'' *** (veelicious): I can't believe we actually met! (donino): Me too, to be honest. I was so nervous.... (veelicious): I'm really grateful that you went over your fear and showed yourself. … I have the feeling that I sounded selfish and mean last time we chatted and I'm so sorry. I didn't want to rush things like that... (donino): No! Actually, I'm glad you did. … You're a good person, Vee, and I guess I low-key knew that you would react the way you did when we met. I don't know how to explain it... … (veelicious): I want to meet you again. (donino): Same. (veelicious): April told me everything. … If you and your family are okay with it, we could meet up at your place? I'd be curious to see how it looks down there. April would come with me. (donino): Unless you have troubles with slight sewer odors, you're welcome here! I'll keep you up to date regarding the others though... (veelicious): Looking forward to it ;)

#chapter #writing #tmnt #tmnt 2014 #tmnt 2016 #tmnt donatello #fanfic #fancharacter #oc #selfinsert #*hides in my corner of shame*#HERE WE GO BOHOHO

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relishsky77-blog · 5 years

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What is nutritional yeast + 25 ways to use it

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What is nutritional yeast and how do you use it? Nutritional yeast is inactive yeast, grown on molasses. It has a cheesy, nutty flavor. It’s a source of protein & B12.

Today I’m sharing all of the details on “nooch” plus 25 ways to use it.

Some people have jars of sugar and flour on their counter for easy access. I have a jar of nutritional yeast.

(This one was made by vegan potter, Jeanette Zeis.)

I pull from it several times a day for sprinkling on a chickpea scramble, to give a cheesy flavor to air-popped popcorn, or as a treat for the kitties.

And when the jar runneth empty, it’s time to make a grocery store run. STAT. It’s not an ingredient I want to be without.

But there was a time when nutritional yeast flakes weren’t a pantry staple or part of my vegan essential spices and seasonings.

In fact, when I first went vegetarian, I’d never even heard of it before.

Nutritional yeast is dried, inactive yeast, grown on molasses.

Since it is inactive, that means it can’t be used for making raised donuts or breads.

And the same holds true the other way around. If a recipe calls for nutritional yeast flakes, do not substitute with brewer’s yeast, torula yeast, or active yeast sold in packets. It’s not the same thing and won’t deliver the results you want.

You may wonder, is yeast vegan? <—– Find out here. But the short answer is that yeast is part of the fungus family, like mushrooms.

How does nutritional yeast taste?

I’ll admit that the name nutritional yeast flakes doesn’t sound wholly appealing.

(If you can’t bear to call it nutritional yeast, give nooch a whirl. It’s a popular slang term for it in the vegan community.)

Luckily, it makes up for it in taste. It has a cheesy, nutty flavor that is a wonderful addition to sauces, dips, or gravies.

When it comes to flavor, nutritional yeast can be a bit divisive. It seems to be one of those love it or hate it foods like cilantro or mushrooms. I fall strongly into the former camp.

It’s also important to know that the flavor of nutritional yeast can vary from brand to brand. So if you don’t like it the first time around, give it another chance with a different brand.

Is nutritional yeast good for you?

Yes! In addition to giving foods a cheesy taste, nutritional yeast is also a source of protein and vitamin B12.

(Although, I recommend taking a regular B12 supplement as well, if you’re vegan. A B12 deficiency is nothing to mess around with. That’s a link to the one I use.)

Where can you buy it?

Nutritional yeast is popping up in more and more places nowadays. In addition to being sold at Whole Foods and other natural grocery stores, Trader Joe’s sells nutritional yeast with their own branding. At $2.99 bag, that’s what I buy most of the time.

It’s also for sale at Hy-Vee (in the health market), Walmart, and Amazon. It’s usually in the natural foods section, near the baking stuff like flour, or with the supplements. You can often find it in bulk bins as well.

Other brands that I like include Bragg & KAL.

How do you store it?

As you’d probably guess since it’s sold in bulk bins, nutritional yeast does not need to be refrigerated. It can be stored anywhere cool and dark to preserve its B vitamins. A ceramic jar in the pantry or on the countertop works fine.

Since it’s a dry product, the key is keeping moisture out. If you’d prefer, it can also be frozen in a sealed, air-tight bag. It has a shelf life of 1 to 2 years.

How do you use nutritional yeast?

So you’ve purchased nutritional yeast, and now you don’t know how to use it? Here are some ideas to get you started.

Sprinkle it on avocado toast or a toasted hummus & avocado bagel.

Use it as a popcorn topping.

How do you make nutritional yeast popcorn? Melt vegan butter, drizzle it on popcorn, add nutritional yeast, and a pinch of salt.

I’m so addicted to this, I’ve been known to smuggle my own nutritional yeast into movie theatres. (Some movie theatres have jars of their own!)

Use it instead of parmesan cheese on spaghetti.

You can use just the nutritional yeast in lieu of parmesan. Or you can blend nutritional yeast in a food processor with walnuts or cashews, and salt until it becomes a powder.

Give nutritional yeast to cats for a treat.

Most cats love it! Just put sprinkle some onto a little dish, and let them lick it up.

Make cheesy things

Vegan cheese dip

Because of its cheesy flavor, nutritional yeast adds so much to dairy-free sauces. This savory vegan chili cheese dip is loaded with three bean chili, seitan chorizo, and creamy cashew queso.

Build-your-own vegan nacho bar

Continuing on the nacho thread, nacho bars are lots of fun for all ages. And it’s a relatively low cost way to have a dinner party!

Fill a table with toppings like spicy black beans, vegan chili cheese dip, salsa, and guacamole. Then let your guests pile them onto chips, exactly how they like.

Chili cheese tater tots

Satisfy the kid in you with vegan chili cheese tater tots. So messy & delicious, it ticks all the pleasure sensors! Serve it as an appetizer or a full meal on its own.

Vegan Philly cheesesteak with jackfruit and cashew cheese sauce

Vegan Philly cheesesteak sandwiches are loaded with savory jackfruit, creamy cashew cheese, sautéed onions, and peppers. It’s a hearty, heavy-duty sandwich that screams comfort food.

Tofu ricotta

Nutritional yeast gives a cheesy edge to tofu ricotta. Add it to vegan lasagna, stuffed shells, and mushroom pizzas.

It’s made with just a few ingredients in the food processor, and comes together in only minutes.

Vegan lasagna for one in the air fryer

Vegan lasagna is layered with pasta sauce, tofu ricotta, zucchini, fresh basil & spinach. This mini casserole is just the right size for one.

And it’s ready in only 30 minutes thanks to the air fryer! Perfect for when you need something cozy fast.

Fried squash blossoms with cashew cheese

Fried squash blossoms with cashew cheese are a vegan appetizer that’s sure to impress! Delicata squash or zucchini blossoms are stuffed with cashew cheese, dredged in flour and spices, and shallow fried.

Cheesy udon noodle bowl with Brussels sprouts

Udon noodle bowl is topped with a cheesy cashew sauce & browned Brussels sprouts. The creamy sauce is filled with the flavors of miso, sriracha, and tamari.

Vegan pesto rice

Vegan pesto rice is the perfect weeknight meal. It uses just 10 ingredients & takes about 8 minutes to make.

Eat it on its own, as a side dish, or as a base for delicious pesto rice bowls with your favorite toppings!

Stir it into polenta

Creamy vegan polenta

Polenta and nutritional yeast work so well together in creamy vegan polenta. Dotted with sun-dried tomatoes, this soothing breakfast is good for easing into the day.

Polenta breakfast with Brussels sprouts & vegan breakfast sausage

For a heartier option, top the polenta with toothsome vegan sausage, browned Brussels sprouts, and a drizzling of maple syrup.

Vegan polenta stacks with barbecue squash & cashew cream

There’s something about stacked food that just screams fancy. These vegan polenta stacks would make an eye-catching entree for the holiday table or a dinner party.

Pair it with tofu

Crustless mini vegan quiche in the air fryer or oven

Tofu is a blank slate for flavors. So when you add nutritional yeast, it stands out in a marvelous way – like in crustless mini vegan quiche.

They are filled with red bell pepper, onions, kale, and seitan bacon in a savory tofu and cashew filling. Cook these adorable, portable quiche bites in the air fryer or oven.

Vegan breakfast tacos with tofu & black beans

Vegan breakfast tacos are loaded with seasoned tofu, black beans, corn, bell peppers, onions, and garlic. Pile the scramble into warmed corn tortillas with a dollop of guacamole and pinch of cilantro.

Breakfast nests with creamy queso

Looking for a vegan brunch idea? You’re going to love these delicate breakfast nests with layer of hash browns, tofu scramble, and a drizzle of cashew queso.

Austin breakfast with tofu scramble

This Austin breakfast platter is a panoply of spicy scrambled tofu, refried beans, breakfast potatoes, and guacamole. All of your brunch favorites on one plate.

Vegan tofu scramble with kale and avocado

This vegan tofu scramble recipe is filled with fresh, seasonal vegetables – kale, red bell pepper, and onions. It’s topped with avocado.

Vegan breakfast sandwich with eggy tofu & sausage

This vegan breakfast sandwich with thinly sliced eggy tofu, non-dairy cheese, and veggie sausage is wonderfully filling & perfectly portable.

Use it on chickpeas

Air fryer chickpeas & roasted chickpeas

Nutritional yeast is a delightful topping on roasted chickpeas. Eat the roasted chickpeas as a snack, or use them as a salad topper.

Make creamy things

Loaded sliced potatoes in air fryer

Nutritional yeast gives cashew cream added umami flavor.

These sliced potatoes are almost like crostini. With decadent cashew cream, smoky seitan bacon, and a smattering of green onions, your guests will be raving about it.

(No air fryer? No problem. Get the oven version here.)

Warm vegan spinach artichoke dip

If you ever went to a casual dining restaurant chain in the early 2000’s, chances are someone at your table ordered spinach & artichoke dip. This version is veganized with nutritional yeast added for richness.

Creamy vegan tomato soup

Few foods give the cozy comfort of a bowl of creamy vegan tomato soup with a non-dairy grilled cheese sandwich for dipping. This full-bodied soup has a wonderful depth of flavor from the addition of sun-dried tomatoes.

Add a handful of homemade vegan croutons and a drizzle of sun-dried tomato oil on top just before serving.

Use it for breading

Vegan fried ravioli in the air fryer

An appetizer the whole family will love. Fried ravioli in the air fryer – seasoned with basil, oregano, nutritional yeast, and garlic. On the side, marinara sauce for dipping.

Give foods an edge of cheesy, savory flavor

Vegan corn cakes

You’re going to love these vegan corn cakes for breakfast or brunch. They’re great on their own or with a tofu scramble on the side. Plus, they’re naturally gluten-free!

Originally posted May 2017. Content updated May 2019.

Source: https://cadryskitchen.com/what-is-nutritional-yeast/

#read more #see more #check it out #interesting #learn more

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ilovehighhats · 7 years

Text

Lupus

And now for something completely different. We interrupted your scheduled programme to bring you sweet relief of pointless smut.

The interlude is sponsored by reader's attention toward the subject, most notably Adarya of ff.net, who has been lobbying for ‘November’ themed chapters since I suggested whipping up some extras. :)

For your reading pleasure, the “November” collection, instalment number two. Set in chapter 13 of “The Scientist”, guess where exactly.

Lupus, or how to tame the beast.

In which the sheep sheds her skin in favour of wolf's pelt, and it turns out the wolf doesn't mind.

“He wants you.”

James stood at the precipice of Helena's room, leaning on the doorframe.

She hummed and never stopped writing.

“Did he say right now?”

“Technically, no.”

“I'd like to refresh myself before I go, if that's okay.”

“Get to it then.”

A twist in her chair brought their eyes together; Helena's sharp gaze under a frown versus his steady look of indifference.

Right. He didn't care. Not about her, not about her work, not about her comfort.

Helena cleaned her tools, keeping the guard in her peripheral, then set to the armoire for the clothes. There weren't many to choose from. She was down to the last pair of lacy underwear, one pair of ankle short socks, two tank tops and leggings she never wore other than as additional insulation under her pants.

“Do you know when I'll get my things from the laundering?”

“Maybe in the evening.”

“How does it work around here? Who takes care of it?” She inquired, opening every cupboard just to make sure she didn't omit a garment.

James never replied. She didn't think he would.

At the very bottom was her last resort kind of outfit. A set she packed originally in dim hope of getting a date, aware the possibility of meeting someone while out at the cottage in the woods was more than slim. But she prepared anyway, taking with only the good undies, nice night shifts and this. The heavy guns of female fashion. Classic black stilettos, good quality stockings and a dress to kill.

Well, she was out of options. Might as well try to convince Bane he should get her some new stuff for the reminder of winter if he wanted her working instead of bedridden. Although, she shouldn't use that particular word, she thought with a smirk. The fucker might find that an alluring prospect.

Ten minutes later she was ready to go. There weren’t many things she could do makeup wise, and she didn't bother too much - it would all be smudged by the end of the night. Some mascara and black kohl around her eyes were enough to keep her steady gaze striking.

She winked at few men when James led her through the courtyard, his usual brisk pace impeded by Helena's choice of footwear. Her steps were slow and measured, careful on cobbled expanse of ground between her part of the compound and Bane’s turret. The shoes would probably be ruined anyway, but the glimmer of irritation in stoic guard was her reward for this small sacrifice. He glared at mercenaries catcalling Helena, sending a mute warning and a reminder with sparse turning of his head. Bane's plaything - out of the question, out of their respective beds.

When they arrived, he gave her the customary once over; she once thought it was to see if she was okay, but now she knew it had more to do with him checking if the delivery, so to speak, was conducted without a hitch.

She twirled around under his inspection.

“You think he'll hate it?”

Again, no response. Unless she'd want to count his derisive snort as one.

Opening the door took some effort, so she waited for James to pry the heavy wing away from the frame. She stepped in and helped closing massive plane of wood, leaning on it with her back. Smiled when she spotted Bane.

“Hi,” she said, eyeing him appreciatively.

He replied with a simple hello. Fingers of his right hand traced absentmindedly on inner sewing of his combat slacks, luring Helena's gaze to the vee of his legs. She licked her lips.

“I was thinking about some things we haven't done yet,” he said. Watched her watching him, calculating her reactions.

“Have you now?” She grinned wolfishly; strolling around the sofa where he sat sprawled comfortably. Eyes never leaving his form. “Tell me more.”

Bane arched one brow, speculative. She challenged him with an arrogant tilt of her head before she stepped behind his back. He visibly tensed… but his palm never stopped moving.

“I have a fancy for your lips today,” he said.

She stopped to his left, just a step away from appearing in his peripheral.

“Hmm, my lips, you say.” She let the sentence trail off expectantly while she turned around, trailing her fingers delicately over the back of his neck.

Bane watched as she moved to her previous spot, leaning on the door. His hand openly rubbed on his crotch.

“That is a nice dress,” he said conversationally.

Helena smoothed her palm from waist to hip, and back up resting it just at the top of her leg.

“Yeah, I’ve run out of clothes and decided to assemble an outfit to show you how I need some new ones.”

“Indeed?”

“Well, just look how thin this fabric is.” She gestured to her chest, where lace of her bra peeked seductively in places. “No protection against cold weather.”

“I will keep you warm,” he supplied.

“And how will you accomplish that from this distance?”

“I would have to conduct an experiment, but I have an inkling what could get you hot.”

She fought to stay sombre, but the absurdity of the exchange made her grin uncontrollably.

“I have a better idea,” she said, biting her lip when he moved his palm up to slide under his shirt. “You do what I tell you and then, maybe, I will let you touch and see for yourself how thin this dress really is.”

Bane’s eyes gleamed with mirth.

“Tell me what to do then,” he challenged.

“You're on a good track.”

“I need specific instructions.”

Movement of his fingers was visible in the rippling beneath the shirt whenever his knuckles flexed; he was tracing some shallow scars, sliding along ridges of muscles. He relaxed against the back of the sofa, head cocked to the side a bit, an amused glint in his eyes.

What would he look without the mask, with the obvious smile out in the open?

“I'm at your command,” he reminded.

It was so easy to believe him. The illusion of power was enough to have her stand a bit taller, keep her back tiny bit more straight.

“I want you to stroke your neck.”

His eyebrows raised a fraction, but he complied almost immediately, free hand grazing his shirt on its way up to its mark. With just his fingertips he scaled the column of his neck, clavicle, jugular to chin, then back down under the hem of the mask, to the side and back. Muscles in his arm shifted, hinting at play of fingers pressing harder than before. He sighed, relaxing further into his own ministrations.

“Oh, you do like that,” Helena said, voice sounding dirty even to her. “I'd rather do this myself, but with the way you are now, so deliciously cooperative, I think I'll watch you play some more.”

Husky, sultry, and just a little bit vulgar. Just enough to show she really was affected by the sight of him. He knew anyway. It showed in the way he eventually straightened both arms to brace them comfortably on the backrest.

“Naughty, Mrs Wolf. Who would have thought?”

“You would. Now, take off that shirt.”

Practiced and swift, he pulled the collar over his head, making a show of raising his hands and throwing the garment behind himself.

The sight made her gasp.

“Stay like this.”

Another amused look came her way, but he complied yet again, resting with arms bent back over the backrest. The position highlighted every centimetre of his sculpted body, from massive biceps framing his masked face, through thick neck, down powerful planes of chest and stomach, to the unmistakable swollen part of his groin.

She gulped down a moan, but let herself exhale. It came out shaky and Bane chuckled openly. He'd let her trace every rippling muscle with her tongue, feel the vibrations of his voice with her lips sliding over his sternum, press on skin hardened with scars. She wanted all of it, and more. For now, she was set on feasting her eyes, for once able to appreciate every part of the man who could reduce her to a panting animal in a matter of minutes.

What was his secret?

His body was formidable. Attractive to her, although there was no question that many people would find him overbearing to say the least. The mask and filtered voice added undeniable mystery; the danger a spice she couldn't shake. Nor would she ever think of having a thing, whatever it was, with him without it. Bane was a mercenary, kidnapped her and held hostage against her will. Still, his domination, calm and quiet most of the time, was what brought out the primal and primitive feelings in her. A masculine figure to cling to, both literally and metaphorically, a prime example of an alpha male, a protector, a warrior.

Yet, there was still a side of something else she was drawn to, something much more elusive than simple physical characteristics. More than what he did; rather what he was, deep at his core, as a human being.

But that were thoughts for later, she chided herself, licking at dried lips, tracing a shadow of longing in his eyes. Heels clicked as she started circling him again, keeping appreciative stare up as long as possible.

He craned his neck to watch her stand behind him. His palms were hanging loosely, right at her hips, separated merely with two centimetres of air. If he flexed his arms, he could grab her; force her underneath him, or however else he'd like to have her. Yet, he chose to wait at her next command. The game they played was too nice to break, at least for now.

He bid his time, confidently measuring her with hooded eyes, sure he would get what he wanted in the end. It was frustrating, how he could be sure of it, and she was left with guessing the boundaries, looking for hints, piecing up information from scraps. This meagre amount of control he gave her now was liberating. She couldn't forget however, it was granted, not earned.

She frowned, tracing veins on his biceps, ticklishly light touch resulting in an uncharacteristic squirm from Bane.

“Do not move,” she said, surprising even herself with the steady and low threat in her tone. Automatically, she lifted her hand, stilling just far enough to show she would continue… if he listened.

He stilled, at first tensing up in reflexive response to the challenge to his authority. Then he was back to relaxing, curious and interested in what she had in store.

That was the question, what did she want him to do?

“I want to watch you touch yourself.”

He chuckled.

“Where?”

“Surprise me.”

Implication behind her words was more than obvious. He looked like he was ready to comply.

He didn't. With a grunt he lowered his arms, flexing them out to get the circulation working properly again, popping joints with a satisfied sigh. Then he resumed the action she appreciated when she entered, lazy stroking at his thighs, around the juncture of his legs.

A smile he couldn't see bloomed on her lips. She slid her knuckles along his shoulders, enjoying the way he bowed his head slightly to give her better access to his neck when she neared it.

“Very good,” she praised. “But you're actually touching your pants.” Her nails bit in tender places on either side at the base of his neck, making him snap his head straight.

An angry vocalization from behind the mask should have frightened her.

“Let me show you what I had in mind.” She faked the exasperation in her voice, never stopping her palms sliding over his skin. Once she started it was addictive, the warmth of his body transferring to hers, gathering at the pit of her stomach. Her fingers sneaked up, fleetingly caressing patches of his head between straps of the mask, skin over his skull littered with small scars. One step and she pressed him to her stomach, slightly to the side, and bent down, sliding left hand surely to the hem of his slacks, keeping one palm pressing his head to her body.

It was unnecessary, he crammed in the hollow at her hip himself, turning his face away to the side.

She stopped, fingers teasing him just beneath the fabric, at the border of shoving her hand right down to grab his cock. Following movement of his mask she peeked where he seemed to be looking, curious of the source of his distraction. She froze completely hearing a whine escape his throat.

He was looking at their image on the glass.

“I could smell you if not for that mask. I could turn around and lick into your pussy, while fisting my cock, so you could watch me come as you orgasm.” He sounded like a different man, full of yearning, not really sure if all was as he thought. Eyes glued to the reflection on the window he kept talking, quietly as if to himself. “I could just stand up and fuck you bent like this. Do you have any idea how your ass looks when you're on your tiptoes, presenting your wet pussy? Fuck. I could do all that.”

She knew he wouldn't let her see his face; the want made him confess his longing, but from saying what he craved and getting it were obstacles she couldn't see him just brushing away. No matter how hard she wished it to be otherwise, he was her captor. Needed to stay alert around her, not to give away more information than he could safely part with.

The line between what was safe was too blurred as it was.

Bitter resentment showed in tightening of her throat and she swallowed it down, determined to use Bane however he'd let her, as long as he was inclined to stay compliant under her command.

“Perhaps you could, but none of that was my instruction.”

She forced him to turn back to face her, retracting her palm with an unkind scratch up his chest.

He hissed, panting, following her eyes with his when she stood back up.

“Open your pants.”

She didn't watch him when she went back to the spot by the door. But she could hear, and it was enough to know he listened.

“Slide them down your thighs.” Mild order was given when she pressed her back to the door, a mirror of Bane’s usual position, complete with hands folded under her breasts. He didn't have to know she did it to manage excited trembling that broke as soon as he touched his zipper.

He probably realized anyway.

“That's enough,” she instructed, satisfied with the way bare skin peeked between thick fabric pooling over his knees and hem of his boxers. “Slide your hand over your cock now.”

He teased, two fingers marking an outline of his flesh standing proudly under thin cover. Not leaving much to imagination, even if she hadn't seen him before. Helena gulped down saliva and he gave her a knowing look, no doubt smirking behind the grille of his mask.

“Take it out.”

“So rude,” he murmured. She didn't care what he thought; her eyes were glued to his hands. Left one stretched the hem down, while he raised his hips and pulled out his stiff penis out. Almost involuntarily, he stroked, once, then twice.

Then, she snapped out of it.

“Stop it,“ she said. “I didn't tell you can touch yourself just yet.”

“My apologies.”

He mocked, even though his stomach was tensing in regular intervals, his breath pausing slightly before exhales.

“You enjoy this way too much.”

She stepped closer, enjoying how he stilled, how his hips shifted slightly closer, knees spread minutely wider apart. Watching him swallowing always did something to her, perhaps because she just knew he must have been biting his lips in anticipation. Out of her reach. Always promising he could use them in ways that guaranteed her pleasure.

Three steps and she was looking down at him, palms resting comfortably on her hips.

“Now you may continue,“ she said.

He frowned slightly and turned his head to the side, but his right palm unerringly grasped at his cock, stroking roughly. The movement was practiced and careless, natural and fluid. He stuttered a bit when she carefully lowered to her knees, helping herself stabilize with one palm braced on his thigh.

He tried to push his underwear and pants lower, to get more space, but she tsked at him impatiently.

“You’re really bad at keeping to orders given,” she complained. “Hands off.”

He stopped but didn't move otherwise, weighing his options no doubt. What kept him here, listening to her commands anyway?

Wolfish smile crept on her face once again when he decided to indulge her and rest his arms on each side of him.

“You’re treading on thin ice,“ he warned. But he gulped again, shamelessly eyeing her cleavage now that he was the one looking down at her.

“What is life without some danger to spice things up?”

His low chuckle pleased her, especially when it formed into a moan at the end when her palms slid up his thighs. Fingers hooked at the hem and she yanked his boxers down.

He tensed his back to help her with rising of his hips but she was having none of it.

“Uh huh,” she frowned shaking her head.

Bane narrowed his eyes.

“Careful,” he growled.

“Obey, and you will be rewarded,” she reminded with a smack of her lips.

He huffed a quick scoff, but held still.

“Wise decision.”

Her palms went back to his thighs, applying enough pressure to make him flex his muscles. His cock bobbed with the movement, swayed slightly closer to her lips. Humid breath travelled teasingly over the tip. He smelled clean and earthy, an undertone of familiar soap over his tangy natural fragrance. She left chaste kisses on each side of his cock, teasing with warmth coming and going. Quick lick at the glands left him straining for more.

Helena stroked her palms over his hips, thumbs dipping into delicate valleys between his stomach and legs. Involuntary shudder and a gasp rewarded her attention. She smiled and sucked in the head, moving her hands higher to feel the muscles working his abdomen in tight little snaps. She let him dictate the pace, loosely holding him on her tongue, too fleetingly to bring release, but pleasurable all the same.

“Suck me,” he groaned.

Looking up she opened her mouth a bit wider and watched his reaction as her tongue stroked over the thick vein at the underside. Smiled when his throat worked visibly with a gulp. A wheezing, shaky breath left the mask.

A second after, she pressed her nails viciously to his skin, sliding them down his hard stomach. His hips jutted out in reaction, visible shiver rocked his body and she used the movement to gulp his cock down as far as he could.

His hands flew to hold her hair, to keep her closer. Bane moaned as he watched her work him sloppily and eagerly to release, doubling over her with a desperately whispered ‘fuck’ on his lips.

She looked up at him again, patted on his wrists to let go.

He did, leaning back on the sofa with some effort.

“Tsk, tsk,” she mocked licking her lips.

Bane still panted like a runner on the finish line. His palms fisted by his sides.

“Finish it,” he ordered.

Helena straightened, smoothing the dress down her hips. Heels clicked away on hardwood floor when she moved slowly behind him one more time.

Bane sighed, frustrated, and looked back. She stood by the entrance to the bedroom.

“Come on, big guy.” Ink stained fingers played delicately over lace at her neckline. “Why don't you finish it yourself?”

Scoffing, he shook his head.

“Careful, or you’ll get more than you bargained for,” he cautioned. His boots thudded to the floor, discarded with simple minded eagerness.

“The idea here was to get me hot,” she reminded.

Bane stretched on the sofa, sliding off his slacks. He stood up with a slight grunt. “And did we?”

The way she watched him stalk closer naked, never taking her eyes off hand stroking his cock lazily, didn’t leave any room for doubt on the matter. Still, he angled his head to the side, unoccupied hand bracing on the doorframe over their heads, crowding her in the entrance.

“Tell me,” he whispered.

It was her turn to pant and gulp down her desire. She watched as his arm moved rhythmically up and down, almost unconsciously whining low in her throat.

“You want me to finish like this?” he asked, a salacious, mocking growl. Muscles in his abdomen tensed sporadically with little involuntary tremors of pleasure.

Helena finally looked up.

“I want you to fuck me.”

Bane snarled, the confirmation making him feral. He grabbed the fabric of the dress at the neckline and yanked, tearing it in half like it was nothing more than a sheer curtain. The movement was so violent Helena stumbled few steps back, into the room, laughing over his enthusiasm. He followed, pushing her lightly to sit on the bed.

“You were right, it’s not enough to shield you against anything,” he taunted, throwing blue fabric to the floor after one last appreciative glance. Kneeling over her, he palmed her breasts through the lacy bra. “This seems as feeble.”

Fingers hooked between the cups and with a quick flex they were disconnected.

Helena giggled again, incredulous. His strength was clearly visible in his imposing posture, but she tended to forget about it.

Her back graciously slid down on the mattress.

Bane slid his hands to her hips. Thumb grazed her clit, forcing out a moan.

“You’re hot alright,” Bane noticed. He pressed his knuckles to her opening, testing the moisture seeping through the lace. “And wet.”

“I’m always wet for you,” she moaned.

That was it. He knew she wanted him, and he wanted her right back with a simplicity nothing else in his life held before. Quick efficient movements of his hands had her turned on her belly, giggling into the sheets as he kneeled behind her hips. He pressed his cock between her thighs, teasing himself with her soft skin on the sides and rough graze of damp lace on the top. One hand held her hair, soft strands caressing the sensitive skin between his fingers.

Helena closed her eyes, relishing the controlled aggression, slight yanking of her tresses and near painful grip on her hip. Coiled power, ready to be released at any given moment, but never unrestrained. Even mere thought of how he dominated her from his position behind aroused her. To think he let her order him around was intoxicating.

“Bane,” she whispered. She knew he liked hearing his name in this breathy, needy version. He liked being wanted like this.

“Yes?”

She giggled again.

“Will you fuck me now, please?”

Hands caressing her hips, he pretended to mull over the thought.

“I seem to have an obstacle still,” he noticed.

Thumbs hooked behind the lace, stretching the panties away from her hips.

“You don’t have to rip them, you know,” she said, voice steady and serious all of a sudden.

“But I like to.”

She sighed as the fabric gave under the stretch, letting him slide it over the exposed skin.

Without any more teasing, he guided his cock inside, the gentle popping sound the only accompaniment to their relieved sighs.

“I fucking love this moment,” she moaned, forehead buried into the sheets, voice muffled.

Bane didn’t respond. He was close from the play before, and the wet grip she had over him fuddled his brain. His hips worked in a steady thorough pace, hands hooked at Helena’s waist to keep bringing her closer. Over and over in a hypnotic daze.

He listened to her muffled gasps, trying not to obsess over the way she clutched the sheets in her teeth, and clawed at them with her twitching fingers.

Nearly there.

He had to close his eyes not to look at his cock sliding into her cunt, but it only heightened his pleasure.

“More,” she moaned.

He stilled with a chuckle, exasperated.

“How about you work for it yourself, hmm?”

He let go, straightened and widened his knees a bit to brace. Watched how muscles in Helena's back shifted as she realized he wasn't joking, and she really would have to keep moving herself to get what she wanted.

Craning her head back she shot him a vengeful look.

“Are you sure you'll be able to handle it?”

He frowned and smacked her ass lightly.

“Worry about yourself,” he warned.

It was rich coming from him, but she was embarrassingly close to coming when he slapped her, unable to hold back a moan. Her hips flexed and then the movement back seemed like the only natural thing to do, and then a repeat, and again. Biting her lips she moved to and from, impaling herself over and over, relishing every stroke and bump of their groins.

Bane held onto her sides, shifting his hands with her but never guiding her movements. She heard him groan, then his hips flexed, pushing towards her when she was about to move away. He gripped her too strongly, shoved too fast and too deep, and she complained with a strangled yelp.

He was trembling, tensed and doubled down over her, his cock buried to the hilt but still seemingly grinding further.

With a sigh he let go after a minute, dazed with release, panting as he watched her turn on her back before him. He rested sitting on his haunches, both hands braced on either knee. She nudged his chest with her foot, making him grab it to stop her, his thumb stroking her ankle.

“I'm not finished. “ She complained.

“No, you're not.”

Pursing her lips she gave him a steady stare.

“I don't want your fingers.”

“I don't care what you want. You will get what I give you and be content with it.”

She frowned, but couldn't fight him when he pushed two digits inside her, stroking her clit with the thumb of his other hand. His palm was so big he covered her whole lower abdomen, and used tensing muscles to guide his movements. Her body never lied to him.

She tensed nervously, tried to move his palm away.

“I don't want it,” she tried feebly.

“What? You don't want to come?” He snarled. He covered her with his body, pressing a fraction too hard, holding her by the jaw and never stopping the in-and-out movement of his fingers in her cunt. “You don't want the pleasure? Don't want the completion?”

She gasped, aware of the thin line she was walking now between angering him and exciting; it seemed to always be there, but now the path was narrowed impossibly and she had to fall on one side. It was her decision which one would it be.

“I don't want to come with your fingers, I want to come with your cock.” Looking him straight in the eye she left her mouth agape, then slowly licked along the upper lip. He hovered down so close she felt huffs of breath escaping his mask. Her hips swayed unerringly with his shoving hand, taking him in even as she complained about it. He was careless, hitting her clit with the flat of his palm on every stroke, threatening to get her to come even despite her protests. He knew exactly what she liked, what got her going. Even this little exchange was suspiciously close to debate; were he really serious in his threats, she wouldn't have a say on the matter. But he watched her lick her lips, his cock hardening slowly, pressed to the soft underside of her thigh.

“I want you to lick your come off my cunt and then fuck me again, and this time I want to watch you shudder as you finish.”

He whined, bringing his forehead to hers, closing his eyes. His Achilles heel was so obvious, but it pained Helena to exploit it.

Then again, it pained her more to keep him doing what he did now.

“Do you imagine how would I taste? How it would feel on your tongue, my pussy with your come? How I'd moan and beg, holding on to you, coming over and over while you'd lick me?“

He was fully hard again, pressing uncomfortably on the inside of her hip, hot and still slightly slick from their previous coupling. A moan, long and drawn, turning into a feral growl rumbled in his chest, building as it went into full-fledged bark.

The hand that was holding her jaw moved a long time ago to brace him on the bed. He used it to shift now, exchanging his fingers in her pussy with his cock, and then he smeared the wetness on her lips.

“I can smell me. And you.” she whispered into his mask.

He closed his eyes again, caged her, both arms braced at the elbows on either side of her head. His forehead never lifted up, and she was overwhelmed with the feeling of Bane surrounding her everywhere, like a living cage. He was just that, she realized, holding on to rigid biceps, hooking her legs at his flexing sides. He was the force keeping her in check, making her idle with content, complacent, passive. She never wanted to be away from the possibility of sharing time and space with him, be it working, fucking or doing nothing at all.

She felt drugged, the pleasure drawing out in strings of movement, passionate and insistent, and unhurried all at the same time. Her moans came continuously, rising in volume when Bane's hips ground into hers, morphing into breathy gasps with stronger strikes. Breaths short and shallow, she was dizzy, almost as if there was not enough air, as if he was taking it from her along with everything else.

“Look at me,” he ordered.

She gulped, surprised with how hoarse he sounded, how affected.

He leaned back a bit, shifting to the side, changing angle of his thrusts. Bracing on left arm he took her hand, clawing a minute before on his bicep, and pressed it wordlessly to the grille of his mask.

She understood. Fingers stroked over the metal tubing, then slid down to his neck and further to hang on his shoulder.

Bane never let his eyes fall from her face, holding her gaze, watching her when he plunged inside her, slowly now, thoroughly.

It was too much. Everything felt so intense, every touch too sharp, every breath too heavy, every spasm too sudden. Helena couldn't suppress her moans, making shallow scratches all over Bane's shoulder and arm, at the brink of release. She was desperate to go, completely at his mercy.

“Please,” she begged, unable to formulate more than one word. “Please.“

Then it happened, with a pained sigh above her, and a tender hand pressed to her back. He held her close, hips grinding even through a jolt of her body, encouraging her with short bursts of words huffed out through gritted teeth, enduring in a position that was best for her, for as long as she needed, his own comfort and pleasure forgotten in the face of her orgasm. Her neck craned back with force of her release, an uncontrolled spasm, tearing out a screamlike whine from her lips.

Bane waited to see if she was okay.

Heart hammering like it wanted to break out of her chest she settled, finally, unclenching fingers from the death grip on his body. Nails broken and red rimmed with blood, fingers leaving brownish smudges on his skin, she patted him on the chest, nodding with a smile.

He lingered a moment, judging for himself her reactions. But even Bane had his limits, so he gave up and shuffled into more comfortable position, restarting his thrusting. Still mindful of her reactions, she was sure of it.

Restraint. Control. That was at the root of her attraction, her desire. Deep settled yearning to be overpowered and awed, but above all - wanted. He knew and it showed in all the tender gestures he let her see, the little indulgences. And that was his secret, the gentleness that showed in most unexpected ways, kindness that had to be buried deep inside him, never planted there but an autonomous part of the man, despite what he had become through storms in his life.

She saw it now, when he kept himself in check by a thread, building up to that place where he could relinquish all control.

He let her see him come apart, shuddering and moaning, just as she asked.

After, he stayed on top of her, panting in slowing increments with head buried in sheets beside her, shivering under the caress of her fingers tracing haphazard patterns on his flanks.

“See, listen to me and be rewarded,” she mumbled, glazing over the precipice of sleep. Discomfort kept her awake, the abundance of moisture pooling between her thighs, sweat cooling on exposed parts of her skin, overheating where Bane touched.

The mercenary chuckled and rolled over, stretching with what looked like a yawn. If he even could do that with his mask on.

“Thank you for the use of your nethers,“ he chuckled.

“Mhm, anytime.” It came out without thinking on her part. So true, though. He did have her whenever he wanted.

She frowned at nothing in particular.

“I'm getting itchy. Would you bring me under the shower?”

“Walk.”

“I'm not sure I still can.”

She yelped when he picked her up, one hand under her knees, other braced around her shoulder. Shielding her with his body, he started the water. Even the mist of droplets bouncing off his frame made her shiver, the actual spray had to be icy. He turned her towards it only when it warmed enough to steam the glass pane separating them from the rest of the world.

“Perfect,” she purred. The water was exquisite on her overworked back, soothingly spreading her hair down. Bane held her up without a word, an indecipherable quality in his eyes. Was it satisfaction?

Perhaps.

She didn't linger on it, deciding to focus on getting the feeling back in her legs.

She would think about it tomorrow.

#bane dcu #bane #fanfiction #fanfic #Nolanverse #batman #the dark knigth rises #smut #smutty

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