#god I feel so guilty adding this many tags but I really need results from this or my project is sorta gonna fall apart

[rosyfingereddawnn]

That’s The Way (Chapter 2)

Pairing: Jimmy Page x Reader

Word count: 3.3k

Warning(s): mentions of cheating, cursing

Author’s notes: Hey y’all, welcome to Chapter 2! Thank you so much for all your positive feedback and responses. A little heads up: Jimmy is not in this chapter...since this is a slow burn, he’ll be introduced in Chapter 4, but it won’t be long, I promise. Just sit tight! As usual, please enjoy, happy reading, and send us messages if you have theories, comments, music recommendations for the playlist, or if you want to be added to the tag list :)

Chapter 1

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Evening of 4 May 1965

Walking into the kitchen, Y/N slid into a seat between her brothers, Tommy and Charlie, just as her mum was placing platters of that night’s dinner on the table. A sinking feeling in her stomach plagued her all day, as she knew that she would be interrogated  intensely by her family about the previous night. More importantly, she knew that if they felt that any of the musicians had viewed her as a possible love interest, she’d be in big, big trouble.

“Dad, can you pass me the vegetables, please?” Y/N asked her father, sitting a few seats down from her. If the girl hadn’t been glancing down at her plate to avoid eye contact, fighting the gut feeling that the inevitable would soon occur, she would have seen him glance at her from over the frames of his glasses.

“Sure, dear,” he replied, briefly looking up from the newspaper he was reading as he gave Y/N the dish. The clanking of utensils on plates was all that could be heard until Charlie broke the seal by asking the dreaded question.

“So Y/N, how was the concert last night?” he asked, raising the glass of water in his hand to his lips.  Y/N couldn’t blame Charlie for asking, because he had no idea what had happened, but she knew that this conversation could go south fast. Tommy’s hums of laughter quietly escaped his lips, and Y/N nudged his arm from under the table, giving him a glaring look that sent daggers from her eyes. It screamed, “Shut up!”, and another bout of giggles was the only response.

Tommy knew the outcome of last night because of what Carolyn had babbled to him on the car ride home, and was doing everything in his power to tease his sister.

“Why are you laughing, Tommy?” Y/N’s mum asked, finally taking a seat between Charlie and Lillian.  Silence settled over the table as all eyes locked on to the oldest daughter, and Tommy evilly smiled at Y/N, who only glared at him again. “No reason. Actually, I think Y/N should tell you instead.”

Y/N huffed as she put the dish of roasted chicken, generously seasoned and herbed, back in the middle of the table. She painted on a smile before answering, “It went pretty well. Brilliant show.”

“That’s it?” her dad asked, folding up the newspaper, knowing his daughter was downplaying it.

“Yeah, Y/N, that’s it?” Tommy added. Y/N knew he was taunting her, but the rest of the table did not pick up on it. From under the table, Y/N’s leg begins to bob up and down, and she bites her lip, debating whether or not to tell the whole story. It’s obvious they’re not going to be happy…

“My God, Tommy,” With an exasperated sigh, Y/N, very annoyed at her brother’s pushing, throws her hands up in unwilling acceptance. “Fine, Carolyn and I were invited backstage, and we met the band.”

The table audibly gasped, the loudest of course being Lillian, who looked disappointed, almost devastated at the revelation. Her lips turn down in a sulk, and she rests her cheek, almost permanently flushed with youth, on a fist. “You promised me you wouldn’t let any boys mess with you, Y/N!”

Y/N reached her hand across the table to hold her sister’s in an attempt to coax her. “They didn’t, Lil. We just talked for a while. I just made some new friends last night, that’s all.”

Lillian’s frown turned upside down, content that her sister was safe, a naïve smile that Y/N felt a little guilty about. She, along with Charlie and their parents, didn’t know that most members of the band had shamelessly flirted with her and invited her back to see them again. Tommy was the only one aware, and Y/N made him promise to keep the whole rendezvous a secret. Carolyn had brought the flirting to Y/N’s attention on the car ride home, because in the moment, she didn’t think much of it.

“If they’re mean to you, I’ll be mean to them, just for you!” Lillian exclaims through a mouthful of mush, and the table burst into laughter, shaking their heads in amusement.

“How did it go?” Y/N’s mum asked, cutting into her chicken with a knife and fork. For the first time over the course of the whole dinner, Y/N broke into an unadulterated smile at the memory. “It was really nice, genuinely. They  were all so sweet to us, and we just bonded over music and stuff.”

Y/N’s mother quirked her brow. “No ‘you know what’?”

“No Mum, nothing explicit. It was good, clean fun. Seriously.”

“Alright, I hope you’re telling the truth… I’m happy you had a great time.”

“She is telling the truth, Mum,” Tommy quipped through bites of roasted potatoes, “I can attest to that.”

Y/N’s mum smiled, but her dad piped up with some two-cents of his own. “Musicians are a tough crowd, Y/N. Very fickle blokes, their attractions change all the time. You can’t get too attached to them, dear,  you’re just a small fish in a very big sea.”

“I know, Dad,” Y/N replied, trying to sound understanding. She couldn’t lie to herself, though. The Yardbirds made her feel very special last night, and disappointment was lurching in her stomach at the comment. As much as her father’s words stung, she harbored a small feeling of hope that they truly enjoyed her company and meant what they said.

After everyone finished dinner, and Charlie and Lillian left the table to go play in another room, Tommy, wallet in hand, walked over to his mum, who was washing the dishes with the help of her husband.

“Hey Mum, I’m gonna take Y/N for ice cream,” he whispered, glancing at Y/N who was sitting in a chair in the living room, almost unconsciously playing with her fingers and staring out the window with a pensive countenance.

“Okay, love. Just bring something home for Charlie and Lillian,” she replied. Tommy walked over to Y/N, tapping her shoulder. The girl looked up at him, confused.

“I’m taking you for ice cream. Let’s go,” he said, already walking towards the door. Y/N grinned, then chased after her brother to the car.

~~~~~~~~

27 June 1965

Y/N and Carolyn weren’t able to attend as many Yardbirds gigs as they would’ve liked in the end of May and beginning of June, as they had exams at school. Now that they were over, Y/N could be fully immersed in the travelling British rock and roll circus for the greater part of the summer.

The girls agreed to make a venue change tonight: instead of going to the Marquee, as they usually did, they decided to go to the Crawdaddy Club. Y/N hoped Jeff, Chris, Paul, Jim, and Keith would remember them by their faces instead of just their clothes, because there was no need to wear school uniforms anymore.

Carolyn decided to drive to this particular gig, probably because she was expecting the two of them to go backstage again, as having her own car would grant them more time with the band then that first night at the Marquee.

The Crawdaddy Club was architecturally and aesthetically different from the Marquee; there were no chairs or booths, so standing was the only option, and the boundary between the stage and the audience was virtually nonexistent. The ceilings were low and beamed, and the stage backdrop had a painting of a measure of music. Y/N thought that particular touch was a bit cheesy.

Carolyn and Y/N walked in together, squeezing past the army of fans already hoarding the front of the stage. They managed to find a spot by Jeff’s side of the stage, his amps towering a few feet from where they stood. Thankfully, they were able to see most of the stage, including Jim’s drum riser in the back. The conversations among all the audience members were deafening, but Y/N heard a loud whisper within her periphery that she could just make out.

“Pssst! Y/N!” a familiar voice whisper-shouted, which was followed by a wave.

It was Jeff, widely smiling with his guitar slung over his shoulder. He was walking out the backstage door, meticulously making sure the door wouldn’t harm his guitar in any way. He then waited near the stage steps to go on, which the girls discerned could be any minute now.

“Oh my God, Jeff!” Y/N replied excitedly as she walked over to the steps. She made her way through the crowd, a lot more ungracefully than she would’ve hoped.

“It’s so cool to see you at some place other than the Marquee,” Jeff said. He looked genuinely happy that she was there. Maybe Y/N’s dad was wrong about these “fickle musicians”.

“We’re happy to be here! I’m so sorry I couldn’t make any more since the last time… exams and school and all.”

“Oh, that’s where you were! I hope you got good marks,” Jeff playfully grinned, “because you ought to mind your studies, Miss Y/N. Sam was starting to think he scared you off and that you didn’t want to come back.”

Y/N scrunched her nose in a confused way, as if to say “who?”, which resulted in a soft chuckle from Jeff.

“‘Sam’ is Paul’s nickname.”

Y/N nodded in understanding with an endearing smile. “Oh, okay. That’s definitely not it, then. I was just stuck with exams and graduation, that's all. Be sure to tell him that.” A wink punctuates the end of her sentence, and, gearing up to respond, Jeff is interrupted by a sharp noise next to him. Mere seconds later, another familiar face entered the scene, walking out of the door. Chris Dreja, also with his guitar slung over his shoulder, warmly smiled at Y/N as he closed the door behind him.

“Hello, Y/N. It’s so lovely to see you again,” he greeted. She noticed that he had a substantially deeper voice than the other four, something she hadn’t the last time they met since he was talking with Carolyn and Keith.

“Hi Chris! Same to you,” Y/N grinned.

“No uniforms this time I see,” he teased, discreetly scanning how stunning he thought she looked.

Y/N laughed. “Yeah, I’m off from school for the summer so there’s no need anymore, thank God. Now I can attend your shows more frequently, and wear a decent outfit too!”

“That’s great to hear. We do love your company.” Y/N beamed at his comment, unconsciously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Chris’ eyes track the movement, and he couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. He thought Y/N was beautiful, but he had a wife and a child on the way. He also felt a little jealous that Paul and Jim had their eyes on her, but there was not much he could do about it. If he was cunning and quick enough to steal Y/N before they had the chance, though, and if his wife never found out…

Quickly regaining his wits, he remembered why he was sent out. “Jeff, Keith needs you backstage again.”

Jeff groaned. “What? I thought we were starting, like right now!”

“I know, I know. We were supposed to, but he wants everyone backstage again for some reason.”

“Ugh, this is why he can’t fucking be in charge,” Jeff replied, clearly annoyed. Then, as Chris was heading backstage once again, Jeff pulled something out of his pocket, a knowing smile on his face.

“Here, love, have this. You’ll be needing it after the show,” he said, placing a card with a lanyard attached to it into Y/N’s hands. Y/N smiled giddily.

“Thank you. Good luck with that meeting, and good luck in the show, even though you don’t really need it,” Y/N replied playfully.

“Oh, I think I need it more than you think I do,” Jeff smirked, disappearing behind the door.

~~~~~~~~

Just minutes later, The Yardbirds came out and played their set, which lasted a couple hours, and didn't fail to stun the crowd. Y/N and Carolyn received a lot more smiles of recognition than the last time at the Marquee, since the boys knew who they were now. The only similarity to last time was the electrified fans who were completely immersed in the music.

Jim McCarty, in particular, looked at Y/N a lot more often throughout the show than he did last time. She caught him a couple times, which was really embarrassing on his part, but not the entire time, much to his pleasure. He didn’t think it was possible, but it seemed that she had grown even more beautiful than last time.

Was it absence that made his heart grow fonder? Possibly. Was he in love? Yet another possibility. Did he know for certain? Perhaps, but he wasn’t exactly sure yet.

Besides focusing on the music, Paul’s mind was elsewhere. He was planning on asking Y/N out on a date with him sometime this coming week. He hoped she’d accept, since she did an awful lot of blushing and giggling around him when they met in May, but he didn’t want to get his hopes up. Paul was concocting the perfect formulation of words so that she couldn’t refuse the offer. She looked like the type of girl who would enjoy a nice dinner date, and he would do anything to make that a reality for her.

Chris’s mind was the opposite of Paul’s: he didn’t want to think about Y/N because in the event he did, he knew he would mess up a chord or two on the guitar.

God, he thought, she was perfect. Purely enchanting.

Jeff was just happy, almost giddy, that he’d found a new friend in Y/N. He knew she was special, and he hoped she trusted him, because some people in this business could be very sleazy. She was different from all the girls a lonely musician would find on the road. Y/N was the type of girl that Jeff wanted to see after a thousand and one nights touring, catching up and sharing stories over a pint. Sure, he had a steady girlfriend, but something about Y/N was comforting, friendly, and trustworthy. Just what he needed in a friend.

The set was similar to the one at the Marquee, but with little variations here and there, still holding the audience under a trance. After the performance’s conclusion, Y/N rummaged through her pocket and showed Carolyn the backstage pass given to her by Jeff, to which Carolyn squealed with delight. Y/N took Carolyn’s hand and walked with her to the door, showing the security man her prized relic. At once, they were granted access, and they skipped and trotted and leapt down the hall in excitement.

When the pair got to the correct door, Y/N took a deep breath and knocked a couple times; momentarily, they were greeted by a smiling, but sweaty, Jeff Beck.

Y/N didn’t care. “Brilliant show, my friend,” she gushed, giving Jeff a congratulatory hug.

“Thank you,” he replied gratefully, reciprocating it with a beaming smile, “security didn’t give you trouble I hope?”

“No, we were fine, thankfully.”

“Good to hear, good to hear. Well, come on in!” Jeff exclaimed, getting out of the way of the doorframe, “do you fancy yourselves a drink?”

Y/N and Carolyn walked into the room, starstruck once again by all five of The Yardbirds being in one place. This time, some members of the road crew, management, and lighting company were there as well, chatting and planning among themselves. They all greeted the girls amicably, and grabbed some chairs and arranged them in a similar formation to the Marquee.

“Um, yeah, sure, if you don’t mind,” Y/N accepted as she sat down, throwing a kind “thank you” over her shoulder at the roadie that had brought her chair over, voice a little lost in amazement at the current happening.

“Here, I’ll get it,” Jim said with a smile, “you stay put.”

“Thank you, that’s so sweet,” Y/N grinned appreciatively. She could feel herself warming up to these guys, as she didn’t feel as nervous as the last time. But a little twinge of it was still there, rippling through her stomach.

Jim was turned away from Y/N getting the drinks, so she wasn’t able to see him blush. He found it unbelievable, the effect she had on him.

The whole group was sharing conversation and laughs over drinks for almost three hours, but it was almost as if time did not pass. They talked about music, books they liked, restaurants they recommended, places they’ve travelled to, philosophy, history, the environment, conspiracy theories...you name it.

Y/N and Carolyn stood up from their seats, as a cue to the party that they had to leave soon. Paul, who again was sitting next to Y/N, tapped her shoulder. Turning to face him, Y/N could see the flush on his cheeks, and the way he was almost curled into himself.

“Hey Y/N, can I ask you a question really quick?” he asked, much more nervous than he sounded a few seconds ago.

“Yeah, sure,” she smiled. Y/N, taking his outstretched hand, found herself being whisked away by Paul to a corner of the room, near a row of vanities attached to the wall. She hoped that the others were all too distracted talking, so that no one would notice her and Paul’s absence.

Looking at each other, face to face, the two smiled happily, as though there wasn't a care in the world.

Paul then took a deep breath, his expression turning more anxious. “Okay…” he exhaled, “here goes.”

“You don’t have to be nervous,” Y/N chuckled, “it’s just me.”

Paul’s face softened a little, gazing down at her. “But you see, that’s the whole point. It’s you. I have every reason to be nervous.”

Y/N’s face cascaded into a red flush, her lip quivering in the hopes of concealing a foolish grin. Paul reached down and grabbed Y/N’s hands, holding them in his own as Y/N’s heart started racing at what felt like two thousand miles a minute.

“I just wanted to preface this by saying that I, uh… I have been absolutely bewitched by you, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since the night at the Marquee,” he began. Y/N melted with every word, but at the same time, she felt as if she had been electrically shocked. When she looked into the twinkling depths of his eyes, she couldn't help but swoon.

“So,” he continued, “I was wondering if you’d like to go out with me sometime. If you’ll let me, of course.”

Y/N was at a loss for words, composure, and any sort of rationality. She never thought, in her wildest dreams, that a musician in a world-renowned band would fancy her. Just able to restrain an awestruck grin, she finally gave in.

“Yes,” she replied, happily breathless and dazed, “I would love to go out with you.”

Paul, ecstatic with her answer, beams down at her as she launches into his arms in a sweet embrace. He asked for her phone number and address, and, spotting a nearby miniature legal pad, she wrote everything down, signing it with a cartoonish smiling face and a heart.

~~~~~~~~

After Y/N and Carolyn had said their goodbyes and left the Crawdaddy Club, the five musicians were left alone in the backstage area, to relax after such an electric show. Jeff and Keith approached Paul, who was collecting his belongings in the corner of the room.

“Did you do it?” Jeff asked, face a picture of feigned nonchalance as he took a sip of his beer.

“Yes, I did it,” Paul grinned, bending down to grab something of his that had fallen on the floor.

“I guess she accepted by the look on your face,” Keith observed, a sardonic smirk on his handsome features.

“You’d be correct,” Paul replied.

“You wanker,” Jeff shook his head disapprovingly, “why would you bloody do that? You’re gonna break her heart!”

Paul’s expression quickly turned unimpressed. “Because if nobody here tells her, she’ll never know.”

What Paul had failed to tell Y/N was that he had a wife, with whom he shared a home. He felt bored, with all the travelling and the touring and the nonsense, so he wanted a lovely, intelligent young woman like Y/N to “keep him company”.

He knew he wasn’t in love with Y/N. Sure, he fancied her immensely, thought she was ethereal, but his heart truly belonged to his wife.

“Congratulations, Sam,” Keith said sarcastically, “you just potentially ruined a friendship with a very pretty bird.” It was clear that Jeff and Keith cared very deeply about Y/N and her happiness, because she was a great girl.

Paul rolled his eyes, annoyed. “You lot have to do me this solid and don’t say anything to her. It’ll work out fine. Oh, and spread the message to Chris and Jim so they don’t spill the beans either.”

“You fuckin’ owe me, Sam,” Jeff warned, already walking backwards towards Chris and Jim, “you owe me big time.”

---------

Taglist: @blood-on-blood @reincarnated70sbaby

#that's the way #jimmy page #the yardbirds #led zeppelin #jimmy page fanfic #jimmy page fanfiction #led zeppelin fanfic #classic rock fanfic

[lake-arrius-caverns]

Prologue - pt 5

content warnings none explicit for this chapter. mentions/references to death and murder

tag list @boulderfall-cave , @padomaicocean (lmk if you’d like to be added!)

final part of the Prologue AT LAST  onto the actual game after this 👀

read under the cut or on AO3, cheers 👍

:: First :: || << Previous << || >> Next >> || :: Masterpost ::

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As Fahjoth was pushed through the prison’s doors, the first thing to hit him was the scent. The air inside was thick and musty and riddled with damp, almost seeming to clog up his airways and pollute his lungs. It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust; coming in from outside, where the skies had been a pale, blank grey, the dingy prison corridors were almost completely dark in comparison. A few small torches hung in brackets, casting weak orange lights upon the rough grey stone walls. Perhaps it was purposely designed to instill a sense of hopelessness in those who were unfortunate enough to be imprisoned here. Or perhaps that was solely as a result of Fahjoth’s current mood. 

First, he and Ribyna were escorted to be processed, giving up their names and details for the records. Fahjoth was relieved that Ribyna seemed to be able to speak for herself now that they were away from the docks, but he was still worried over his twin’s mental state. Then, they were stripped of all their belongings, including the very clothes off their backs, to be replaced with the dirty, ragged sack cloths of their prison shirts and trousers. Neither of them were to be afforded any dignity in the process, but even that wasn’t the worst part. 

The worst, by far, was facing the unknown, in the form of whatever lay ahead of them both. 

Fahjoth wasn’t worried about himself, not really. There was no evidence of him being involved in any particular crime; the worst he could be charged with was public nuisance and affray, if the guards decided that he was involved in the confrontation that had taken place on the docks. The blood still staining his knuckles may have provided enough proof for that to be the case. 

But the biggest cause of his anxiety was Ribyna. Not only had she killed someone, that someone was the Captain of the Imperial Watch himself, and she had done so in full view of all the other guards. There was no denying that she would be facing charges for murder at the very least. 

But to murder such an important figure…

Perhaps they would make allowances, Fahjoth let himself hope as the prison guards now took them down towards the cells. Maybe they would charge her with manslaughter, seeing as the Captain’s death had been an accident. On the other hand, she was still also facing attempted murder for her desperate struggle to stab the staff-wielding cultist. 

Overall, the outlook for his sibling was bleak. Ribyna herself said nothing as they were taken to their respective cells, which were situated directly next to each other. In a way, that was some small comfort. But on the other hand, the fact that they couldn’t see each other left Fahjoth feeling even more distressed. 

The cell that Fahjoth was unceremoniously shoved into was itself no more welcoming than the rest of the prison. As the iron bars slammed shut behind him with a deafening clang, and a mechanical click announced the key turning in the lock, he stood and examined his surroundings. A single candle stood mounted on the wall in a rusty iron bracket, not doing much for the overall light level but valiantly flickering nonetheless. The walls were comprised of the same dull grey stonework, splashed occasionally with patches of moss and streaks of black discolouration where the damp was creeping in. A small wooden table and chair, crooked and riddled with rot, sat in the corner with clay cups and plates sitting haphazardly on top, but apart from that, there was nothing. A narrow opening — not even a window — sat high up in the stone wall, blocked with thick iron bars like those of the cell gate. The hole let no sunlight in, but allowed cold draughts to permeate into the cell, bringing with them a fine drizzle of rain. 

Fahjoth shivered, rubbing his bare arms while fighting the urge to throw up. Everything had gone so wrong, so quickly, and a small part of him wanted to blame himself. The rest of him, however...

He shook these thoughts out of his mind; playing the blame game was of no help to anybody now. Instead, he padded back over to the cell gate, reaching his arm out towards the cell on his right, where he knew they had imprisoned Ribyna. 

“Ribyna?” Fahjoth called, keeping his voice hushed so as to not alert the guards. On receiving no response, he frowned and tried again. 

“Ribyna!”

To his relief, there was a small reply this time. 

“Yeah?”

Thank the gods. “How are you holding up?”

“How d’you think?”

Right, that was a bit of a stupid question, he reasoned. Nonetheless, it hurt to hear his sibling sounding so broken and defeated. “Look, we’ll... we’ll figure it out,” he said softly. With the trembling of his voice Fahjoth wasn’t sure that he sounded convincing enough, but he had to try. “We’ll sort this.”

Ribyna didn’t reply. Fahjoth kept his arm stretched towards her cell, in the hope that she would reach out to him — though he wasn’t sure who needed the comfort more at this point. He knew Ribyna was suffering, and wanted nothing more than to throw his arms around his twin, to tell her that everything would be alright, but he couldn’t. They’d never been forcibly kept apart before and it was nothing short of devastating. As well as the uncertainty surrounding their fates, they were also left to process indescribable grief. 

They had lost Merrick. 

The youngest member of their group and one of the kindest people Fahjoth had ever known. It was a terrible injustice. Fahjoth had been very fond of him himself, but Merrick had been Ribyna’s best friend. Though his own eyes brimmed with tears, Fahjoth couldn’t even begin to imagine how she was feeling. 

He had shunted all thoughts of Cassius out of his mind. On the rare occasion that his boyfriend — now very much an ex — wormed his way to the forefront of his mind, it incited both anger and hurt in equal measure in Fahjoth’s heart. After everything they had been through, how could Cassius have just abandoned him like that? Had he ever even cared for Fahjoth at all? 

Again, he pushed it to the back of his mind, trying not to think about it. What was most important now was what ultimately awaited him and his sibling, and how they were going to deal with it. 

Such an opportunity arose when a guard came patrolling past. The clanking of his iron armour paused as he stopped by Fahjoth’s cell, jerking his head towards him with a frown. 

“Arms in, prisoner.”

“Sorry,” Fahjoth apologised on instinct, drawing his hand back through the bars. “Listen, um... I was wondering if you know what’s going to happen to me and my sibling? They didn’t really... tell us anything...”

Strangely, the guard didn’t decline. But perhaps it wasn’t that shocking; many on the Waterfront joked that Fahjoth possessed somewhat of a silver tongue. 

“Vetharys, isn’t it? Sure, I heard the head jailor talking. You’ll probably get a few years at most.”

“And Ribyna?” Fahjoth pressed, his stomach twisting with anxiety. 

“You mean Little Mr Murder next door?” The guard lowered his voice, though Fahjoth was well aware that Ribyna would probably still be able to hear. “Killing the Watch Captain is no petty crime, you know. If he’s found to be guilty, he’ll probably be looking at the death penalty.” 

Fahjoth froze as his worst fears were all but confirmed. As the guard received no response he simply carried on his way, leaving Fahjoth to reel with horror alone in his cell. 

He had already lost more than he could have ever possibly imagined. 

Was he going to lose Ribyna as well?

Leaning back against the bars of his cell door, Fahjoth desperately reached towards Ribyna’s cell once more with his arm violently shaking. 

“Ribyna?!”

His heart was hammering in his chest and his eyes burned afresh, hoping and praying that Ribyna would respond. Being separated had been torture before, but now... 

“Ribyna...” His voice was a mere croak, barely above a whisper, an anguished plea for her to answer. And she did.

“I’m tired, Fahjoth.” Ribyna’s own voice was hoarse and cracked, and it was only too easy for Fahjoth to know that she was crying. “Leave me alone.”

As silence fell throughout the jail corridor Fahjoth slumped against the wall, his hand dropping limply to the ground. In the quiet that followed he could still hear wheezing sobs coming from the cell next door, despite Ribyna’s best attempts at hiding them. It was then that Fahjoth let his own tears fall, trailing down his cheeks as he finally settled into a wretched, crushing despair.

                                  —————————

How long had it been?

Fahjoth had attempted to keep track of the days at first, but by around the middle of the second year all hope of counting was long gone. Past that it was just a stream of repetition as the days blurred into one. It was long enough that Fahjoth’s hair was beginning to grow white, in any case. Though he had no mirror to see himself with, a silvery strand would occasionally come loose from his head, which was both puzzling and quite frankly depressing. Prison must be ageing me, he mused wryly. 

There was no leaving the cell he had been forced to call home. Food — if the pitiful morsels they were given could even be called that — and water were left at the gate. Sometimes, Fahjoth would be able to chat to the other prisoners, or even the guards. He’d managed to get on first name terms with a few of them now, who reassured him that a charming lad like him ought to be out in no time. The months and years came and went with no sign of this prediction coming to pass, but Fahjoth didn’t care. He didn’t want to go anywhere without Ribyna. 

The guards were mostly reticent, but from the information Fahjoth had managed to glean from their interactions, he deduced that the issue was a complicated one. It seemed that the Imperial council, to whom the issue had been escalated, were having trouble deciding whether Ribyna’s crime amounted to murder or simply manslaughter, which would grant her somewhat of a lighter sentence and the possibility of avoiding capital punishment. But apparently, as one of the guards had whispered to Fahjoth one dark and dismal Loredas afternoon, Rusant’s wealthy and influential family were very angrily lobbying for a public execution, further complicating matters. And then there was the matter of whether Fahjoth himself was an accomplice in the Captain’s murder. Many of the more friendly guards assured him that this wouldn’t be the case, but it seemed that Fahjoth would be in for the long haul as well.  

But, oddly, he didn’t mind. Fahjoth much preferred being close to his twin over being separated any further, even if it meant a dreary existence in the Imperial Prison dungeons. Ribyna herself was mostly quiet; occasionally she and Fahjoth would talk amongst themselves, their fingertips brushing as both reached out of their prison cells towards one another. But she knew as well as Fahjoth did that her future was looking very bleak indeed, and it frequently reflected in her withdrawn and melancholic demeanour. 

Until a day came when everything would change yet again. 

Fahjoth was awoken early one Sun’s Height morning by the inconsiderately loud footsteps of two prison guards, who came marching past his cell at dawn. His cell painted with bright peachy gold streaks by the sunrise, Fahjoth hastened to sit up and hurry over to the cell gate. A change in schedule only meant one thing; either someone new was being admitted, or someone was leaving. As the guards weren’t accompanied by any new prisoner, evidently it was the latter. 

His stomach dropped as he realised that the guards had stopped outside Ribyna’s cell

“Vetharys?” one of the guards asked, consulting a roll of parchment. 

Ribyna’s voice was wary. “Yeah?” 

“Come with us. Emperor’s orders.”

The Emperor himself had got involved?! Fahjoth felt his heart banging as dread overtook him. Was it time already?!

“What’s happening?” he demanded, unable to keep the tremor out of his voice. Unfortunately, the guards were unmoved. 

“None of your business, prisoner. Alright, Vetharys, stand back. We’re opening the door.”

There was a shuffling of footsteps and a clanking of metal, but Fahjoth couldn’t see what was happening no matter how hard he pushed himself against the bars of his cell. The next thing he was able to see was Ribyna being pushed out of her cell by one of the guards, her hands tightly bound behind her back as the manacles that adorned all prisoners’ wrists were firmly locked together. 

The guards began to escort Ribyna out, and as she passed Fahjoth’s cell, he felt a shiver run down his spine. As she met his eyes, his sibling looked utterly terrified. 

“Fahjoth!” she whimpered, almost resisting the guards for a moment as Fahjoth reached out towards her, ignoring the tears spilling hot and fast down his cheeks again. Ribyna’s own eyes were brimming with tears as she was whisked away by the guards without hesitation. 

“Ribyna-!” Fahjoth cried, continuing to reach out to her even after they had rounded the corner at the end of the corridor and vanished from view, and even after their footsteps receded into silence. 

So that was it, then.

His twin, his best friend, the one person who had been there for him his entire life was heading towards her demise and there was nothing Fahjoth could do about it. 

He howled out in frustration and devastation, slamming his fists against the wall of his cell, but soon his strangled yells dissolved into sobs instead as grief overtook him completely. His legs gave way from beneath him as he collapsed to the floor, his shoulders jerking as he wept without restraint. 

Along with heartbreak for his lost sibling, a horrible emptiness began to take root in his chest. For the first time in his life, Fahjoth was now completely and desperately alone.

#oc: fahjoth #oc: ribyna #tes #tes fic #morrowind #dunmer #dunmer oc #nerevarine #elder scrolls #elder scrolls fanfiction #tes iii: morrowind

[steebharringt0n]

sanctuary - part 3

summary: Subject 001. That’s what you’ve been called your whole life. You’ve known nothing but pain, violence, and isolation. You were their greatest secret weapon, but when your final mission is to ensure the end of the universe, you escape to Hawkins, Indiana to team up with Eleven and to put an end to all this chaos, once and for all - you just never expected to fall in love with the resident bad boy along the way.

rating: m

pairing: billy hargrove x reader

warning: graphic violence, slurs, abuse, curse words.

A/N: fuck episode 8. i am so upset. thank god for fanfiction amirite? i was too emotionally distrought to think of a better ending for this chapter, but things start picking up next chapter - i will include what happened to billy in season 3 in this story, with some obvious tweaks.

tagged list: @thefandomzoneisdangerous

001. prologue 002. firestarter

---

003. spitfire

“Pick your poison”

You stared at the plastic menu in front of you, not entirely sure what any of these foods were. It’s not like they fed you burgers and fries over at the military base. The options were overwhelming to you. Pancakes, hot dogs, milkshakes … was any of this good?

“I - I don’t know what to get …”

Billy put down his menu and stared at you, taking in your features a lot better now that you both sat under the bright light of the diner. Your (Y/H/C) hair was messy, as if it hadn’t been washed in days. The bruises around face, especially the one near your cheek looked more colorful than before. Hues of purple and yellow contrasted against your (Y/S/C) skin. The dark bags under your eyes made it seem as if you hadn’t slept in days.

You hadn’t.

“What, you’ve never had a cheeseburger before?” he questioned incredulously. You shook your head, “No, I don’t even know what this pancake food is. Is it any good?”

Billy scoffed loudly, “You’re joking right?”

Your eyes shifted around, cocking your head to the side, “No Billy, why would I lie to you?” your voice spoke softly.

He was taken aback by your comment. His shoulders relaxed and a soft expression appeared on his face, “You’re right … I’m sorry. I’m kinda new to this whole being nice thing” he muttered. 

A loud noise coming from the back of the kitchen from the diner distracted the both of you from your conversation. A tall, lanky waitress with thin hair was sauntering over, her face looking very annoyed. Billy quickly lowered his head towards you, “Whatever you do, don’t say a word. I’ll do the talking” he hissed at you quickly.

You nodded solemnly. He was the only one that had helped you get this far - the least you could is follow his instructions.

The waitress then appeared to your table. Smacking her gum loudly, a notepad in her hand. She glanced over at you, then frowned, “Boy kid, what happened to your face?”

You stared at her blankly, not knowing exactly what to do in this situation which was strange because you always knew what to do in sticky situations. It usually resulted in someone getting hurt or dying though. This situation however, was different. You never really interacted with people outside of the men that usually monitored your every move, so social cues were hard for you to grasp, along with sarcasm and certain expressions. Your eyes slowly shifted to look at Billy, waiting for him to speak on your behalf. 

“Car accident. Nasty one. Just got out of the hospital so we’re celebrating, right?” he gave you a hard looking, pressing on the fact that he needed you to play along with his little game. So you did.

“Yup. Car accident” was all you said. 

“She’s gonna take the cheeseburger with fries, I’m just gonna have a chocolate milkshake” He quickly said, trying to divert the conversation back. The waitress quickly jotted the food down on her notepad. She turned on her heel and disappeared back into the kitchen.

Billy let out a breath of air from his mouth, sinking back into his seat. “That was close. Nice playing along”

You nodded, fiddling with the large sleeve of your hoodie as silence settled between the two of you. You weren’t exactly the best at holding conversations, and neither was Billy. You mostly spoke when you were spoken to, and Billy just usually avoided people unless he was trying to get in someone’s pants.

“So uh,” he started, trying to break the awkwardness, “How did you uh, manage to make your way to this hellhole?”

You shrugged. “I killed a guy, stole his wallet, bought a plane ticket and walked the rest of my way here.” you spoke so nonchalantly it sent chills down his spine. The way you spoke about certain things had a sense of innocence to them, but the fact that you could easily kill the next person that walked in the diner almost terrified him. You stopped fiddling with your sleeve when you realized Billy was quiet.

“I’m not a monster you know” you quietly said, your eyes avoiding his blue ones. “I know I have these ... powers ... and I know I’ve used them to hurt people ... but I’m not a monster” your voice was full of emotion. Billy shifted in his seat, his lips pressed together, not sure how to respond to you. He knew what other people at school saw him as. 

A bully, an asshole, a womanizer.

But in reality, Billy was a broken man, misunderstood. Seeing you become vulnerable in front of him tugged at his heart strings - which surprised him since not many things could make him feel so emotional.

“What are you?” he quietly asked.

You shrugged again, “I know as much as you do. They kept me in the dark. I was used to kill important people, people who would get in the way of their plan”

Billy’s eyes narrowed, “Who’s they?”

“The Russians, sometimes they would lend me to other people - to kill you know? I’m assuming they probably got paid money for it. Brenner always told me I was their prized possession. I was trained for as long as I could remember, until I perfected my powers.”

Billy tensed up, his leg twitching under the table, “So what other powers do you have?”

“Just the fire stuff - plus I’m really strong” you grinned at him. From the way you were shaped there was no way anyone would know what you could snap a tree in half with your bare hands. 

“Yeah, I figured that much” he glanced down at his wrist, rotating it to make sure that it was still working. 

You pressed your lips together, your expression softening, feeling guilty that you had hurt him earlier. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you … I just don’t - “

“- like being grabbed at … I get it. My old man can be hard on me sometimes” 

Your eyebrows etched together, “Old man? You have an old man?”

Billy let out a laugh, “It’s another expression. It’s my dad. He’s a piece of shit”

You noticed his face hardening at the mention of his dad, his whole body stiffening. Unsure how to comfort him, you hesitantly reached out and placed a hand over his, warmth emitting from your palm. He looked up at you, his face now softening at the mere touch of his hand. His blue eyes boring into your (E/C) eyes. There was that feeling again, the feeling of butterflies in your stomach. You brushed it off this time, wanting to make sure that he was okay. 

“Brenner is a piece of shit too. I understand”

There was a moment of silence between the two of you. Billy didn’t move his hand away, rather enjoying the warmth from your hand. Your touch was such a small gesture, but to Billy kindness was something he really didn’t get too much often. Not since his mom had left anyways.

The silence was broken by the waitress barging out of the kitchen. You quickly swiped your hand away from Billy - as if you were doing something inappropriate and didn’t want to get caught. She placed the cheeseburger in front of you, and the milkshake in front of Billy who murmured a thanks before she made her way back into the kitchen.

You took a deep breath, the smell of the beef and cheese hitting your nostrils. It was magnificent. You had never smelled anything so amazing before, your mouth was watering, your eyes were gleaming with excitement. Food was always given to you, but you were on a strict diet, to keep your body as fit as could be. But this? This was different. Billy watched you amusedly as he ripped open a straw and placed it in his milkshake.

“Well go on, take a bite” he urged.

Your hands picked up the large burger and you took a bite. Your eyes widened, the different flavors hitting your tongue, your taste buds were on fire. You closed your eyes, relishing the taste in your mouth, chewing ever so slowly so that you could taste every ingredient. 

“Oh my god” you moaned. Billy couldn’t help but grin at you, it was like watching a little kid eat a burger for the first time.

“This is the most amazing thing I have ever tasted in my whole life!” you exclaimed, taking another large bite.

“You should try the fries - with ketchup” he advised, taking a sip of his milkshake.

He reached over to the end of the booth and grabbed the red bottle at the end. He leaned over and drizzled ketchup over your fries, quickly taking a fry with him but you didn’t mind. You picked up a fry and placed it in your mouth. Another loud moan came from you, your eyes almost rolling in the back of your head.

“Billy. This is amazing, this has been the best day of my life” you spoke with food in your mouth but he didn’t care, he was too amused at all your reactions.

Billy glanced up at the clock on the wall. 11 pm. Shit, it was getting late.

“Hey, uh, I’m gonna go use the bathroom real quick. Stay put, don’t destroy anything” he jokingly added. You were too engrossed in your burger to give him any real attention, so you just waved him off as he quickly rose up and made his way to the back of the diner. He turned the corner and walked over to the payphone that was next to the bathrooms. He looked over his shoulder, making sure that you weren’t following him.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the Wheeler’s number, dialing it quickly as he held the phone between his head and shoulders.

A soft voice answered the phone, “Wheeler residence”

“Hey, Mrs. Wheeler it’s Billy”

Her voice suddenly went up a couple of octaves, “Billy! Hello! Calling so late, is everything okay?”

Billy shuffled his feet, “Yeah, um, is Nancy there? I need to ask her about an assignment”

There was a momentary pause on the other side. Billy heard shuffling and voices, “Yes, she’s here, - Nance! Hey Nance! Billy’s on the phone for you!”

Billy heard the phone being passed off. Mrs. Wheeler’s soft voice was replaced by Nancy’s nervous one. “Hi, Billy?”

“Wheeler. I’m gonna make this quick. I need your help.”

There was another pause, and then more shuffling. “Hey mom, I’m gonna take this phone call upstairs” Nancy announced to her mother. Billy heard the thudding of footsteps as Nancy made her way into her bedroom.

“Hargrove, what the hell do you want?” her voice suddenly became cold.

“One of Eleven’s buddies is here and I can’t watch her” he spoke in a hushed tone.

“What? Her buddies? What do you mean?”

“Wheeler, I need to bring her to your house. She can’t stay at mine” he pressed on.

“Hargrove, what the hell are you talking about?!” she questioned hotly.

“I can’t explain right now, I don’t have time, but I need to come over.” His foot was twitching at this point.

He felt Nancy’s hesitation, but she finally responded. “Okay, okay. Um, meet me by my back gate in 15 minutes”

“Deal”

He hung up the phone. He was making his way back to the booth when he caught a certain red car out of the corner of his eye. His face blanched and he felt his stomach drop when he realized who’s car that was.

“Shit. Shit. Fuck” 

He turned the corner and saw Tommy H. with Alex M. towering over you. You looked small, cowering in the booth. They both were laughing loudly, picking and eating the large fries that were sitting in front of you.

You looked up from the table and made eye contact with Billy, the look in your eyes were pleading for him to stop this.

“Tommy, Alex, what the hell are you guys doing here?” Billy’s voice was low, rough.

Tommy and Alex stopped laughing and turned to their attention to the familiar voice behind them. Billy hated dealing with those 2, along with Carol. They were the bane of his existence - and yet they followed him around like a lost puppy dog.

“Hargrove! I didn’t know you liked to screw around with fucked up chicks!” Tommy exclaimed, glancing back at your cowered frame. The words stung, but you remained quiet, letting Billy take over the situation. “We spotted your car so we knew we had to stop in”

“You guys need leave now” his voice was terrifying low now. Anger was starting to set in and you could hear it in his voice.

Alex let out a nervous laugh, “Hargrove, c’mon, it’s us. We just want to know who your little friend is” Alex walked over and patted Billy on his shoulder. Billy just stared at him in disgust.

“Yeah, like is she good in the sack? Does she give good head?” Tommy quickly added, reaching down and taking another fry, staring at you with a smirk on his face. 

Your hand twitched from under the table. Your temper rising.

Not a monster, not a monster, not a monster

You repeated that mantra in your head.

Billy stared at his friend, his mouth set in a hard line. Although you had no idea what ‘in the sack’ or ‘give good head’ meant, you knew it had some sort of sexual connotation with it with the way they were eyeing you up and down. If Billy Hargrove had fucked her - odds are she was a good fuck and they wanted a taste.

Tommy looked down at you again, “I’d give her an 7, maybe an 8 if she didn’t looked so fucked up” he sneered.

Billy could hear the muscles in your jaw crack as you clenched your jaw. Your expression hardening as Tommy casually reached his hand down again to grab another fry.

Game over

But before his fingers could even touch a fry, you quickly grabbed his wrist, slamming his hand down on the table so hard you could hear the joints in his hand. Tommy wailed in pain, his eyes widening so hard it looked like it was going to bulge out of his face. You stood up from your seat, keeping his hand pinned to the table. 

“Call me fucked up one. more. time”  you hissed at him, your jaw set as you stared at him. You maintained eye contact with him as he whimpered in pain. You could feel the table starting to crack as you pressed down harder. Tommy’s face twisted in agony, his mouth letting out a loud scream.

Your palm started to feel hot, you were so close to burning his hand off when Billy quickly ran over and yanked you away by your arm. Tommy collapsed to the ground, tears streaming down his face as he grabbed his hand to his chest. Alex ran over to his friend, picking him up from the floor.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” he spoke to you through gritted teeth. You snatched away your arm from his grip. But before you could give him an answer  the waitress suddenly came barging through, her eyes scanning the scene.

“All of you! Out of here!” she yelled at the four of you.

Billy walked around his two friends, reaching into his pocket and slamming a twenty dollar bill next to your plate. He grabbed your hand, leading you outside to his car without saying a word.

He quickly ushered you in his car, making his way around to the driver’s side and opening up the door. He quickly sat down and started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot so quickly it made your head spin. 

“You can’t fucking pull shit like that! What the hell were you thinking?!” he screamed at you, reaching for his pack of cigarettes in his center console.

“I was defending myself! I wasn’t going to let him speak to me like that” you retorted back.

“Yeah? By breaking his hand?! Real fucking smart!”

“Fuck you!”

“No fuck you!”

You were breathing heavily, your heart felt like it was going to pound out of your chest. But you were so angry, incredibly angry. How dare he question your right to defend yourself. Billy reached for his zippo lighter and flicked it open, trying to light it but was unsucessful. He angrily chucked it by his feet, feeling frustrated. You instinctivly reached over and snapped your fingers, emitting a flame from your hand.

Billy looked over at you. Your nostrils flaring and your eyes burning with anger. but yet you still had the kindness in you to help light his cigarette. 

You were spitfire and crazy. Bruised and broken. Just like him. 

He had never had someone - let alone a girl - speak to him to the way you just did. But it made you all the more interesting to him. Although he would have never admitted it at the moment but seeing Tommy H cry like a baby almost made him want to smile.

He leaned over to the flame, cigarette in his mouth. It quickly lit and he took a deep inhale.

You let the flame disappear from your hand. Crossing your arms, a scowl on your face as you both drove towards the Wheeler residence in silence.

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove imagine

[imthequeenofcordonia]

Wacky drabble #31: We all need a little help sometimes.

This is my contribution to @emceesynonymroll​ wacky drabbles. The prompt is: You should’ve told me earlier – I could have helped you.  The prompt will appear in bold. 

Paring: Drake x OC (Lily Rys)

Word count: 2,244 (OMG I really tried to stay under 1,000. I  got a little bit carried away  😳 ) 

Warnings: Depression/ panic attack 

A/N:  All characters belong to Pixelberry other than Lily.

Permatag: @desireepow-1986 

Drake and Lily tags: @addictedtodrakefanfic @msjr0119​ @drakewalker04

Masterlist

Anxiety. This was something Lily often had to deal with but she did normally without too much of a problem. Anxiety, although it could often be crippling, was the least of her problems. 

She remembered the first time she had a panic attack. She was fourteen, nearly fifteen, when she was attending a ball. She stood by the ballroom doors with her brothers, father and stepmother when the world around her started to spin and breathing became an unnecessarily difficult task. 

She had them more and more throughout the years, especially during her teenage years when it got increasingly bad. The thing that annoyed her was she was never able to pinpoint what caused them. What her trigger was. They’d always come seemingly out of nowhere. 

Lily was nineteen now and she hadn't had one for a month, to everyone else that seemed like a minuscule thing, but to her? It was amazing. Before that she barely went a day without having one, not that anyone seemed to notice it anyway. 

She understood, her father was the king for god sake and wasn't the most affectionate of people. Leo was learning everything he’d need to know for when the crown was passed down to him, between his disappearances and flamboyant trips around the world that was. As for Liam, well he had his own life, they weren’t joined at the hip so he didn't notice either. Regina, yes, she was Lily's stepmother, but Lily very much doubted the woman would be able to help her with her anxiety, so keeping that all in mind, she was left to deal with it on her own. 

Lily had always been closer with her eldest brother, they were just more alike than her and Liam were, so occasionally he’d be the one to quell all her fears away, if he was there that was.  

Today the whole family was taking a trip to Ramsford for the annual Beaumont bash. This was Lily’s favourite event, it wasn't formal in any shape or form like every other event was. The thought of being around so many people had her anxiety rearing its head. 

She had been out of the palace much over the last month. She had stayed confined in her room for the majority of it only leaving for food and to have her piano and singing lessons in the ballroom. 

She didn't have a fear of leaving the palace, not normally, but it was difficult to have much confidence when you hated everything about yourself. She constantly judged herself so why wouldn't other people. It was alright for her brothers, they got all the good genes. They were tall, handsome, confident whereas Lily wasn't, or at least that’s what she believed. 

Lily glanced at her clock hung on her bedroom wall, they would be leaving soon. Lily packed a bag, making the deduction they’d most likely be spending the night in Ramsford, then grabbed her ball gown off the back of her door as finishing packing and doing her makeup for the evening. The dress was beautiful, it once belonged to her mother but those types of dresses were not the most comfortable to travel in. 

She met Constantine and Regina on the steps outside the entrance to the family as staff loaded their belongings into the awaiting SUV as Liam had headed on over earlier that day with Drake. 

“You’re not dressed,” Constantine noted. 

Lily shrugged, “The dress isn't that comfortable, especially to travel in, i’ll get changed when we get there.” 

“Very well,” Constantine nodded. 

“Where’s Leo?” Lily asked, looking around for him after noticing he wasn't there. 

“I’m here!” he yelled bombing out of the doors, bending over and putting his hands on his thighs as he caught his breath. “I’m here,” he muttered, looking up at his family. Constantine made a wordless noise of disapproval as they headed down the steps and into the awaiting car. 

When they arrived they had twenty odd minutes before the ball was to officially begin so, Constantine and Regina sat and talked with Bertrand as Leo went in search of his brother and Lily headed on up to her room to change. 

She quickly changed into her dress and stood in front of the mirror in the conjoining bathroom, eyeing her appearance quizzically. It really was a miracle nobody had noticed something was wrong. There  were dark bags beneath both her eyes, like she’d been punched but the reality was she just hadn't slept, she was pale, all the makeup she’d caked on earlier that day was doing her very little justice. 

After she was done, she checked her phone quickly seeing there was only a few minutes before the ball was to be officially kicked off, turned her phone off and put it on the bedside table- there was no point in taking it down with her, she wouldn't use it, then she smoothed down her dress and headed over to the door, hesitating to turn it when her hand latched onto the doorknob and her anxiety peaked. 

Would anyone really notice if she wasn't there? She wondered. 

After getting herself together somewhat she opened the door, stepping out and shutting it behind her. She knew the Beaumont estate off by heart now, she had spent a lot of time there growing up. She wandered slowly through the corridors, peeping out the line of windows that looked out onto the driveway and saw guests after guests wearing exquisite outfits arrived for the bash.  Lily looked down at her royal blue dress she was wearing, then out the window and out at the other women’s gowns. Her dress was beautiful, it was her mothers, she loved it but it didn't come close to the other ladies, adding on the fact that Lily looked almost sick. 

Her breathing picked up at her made her way toward the ballroom. Her feet tingled as she walked, making her nearly trip as she did so. She wrung her hands together, her palms starting to feel sweaty.  She felt her heart thumping in her chest, violently. Lily came to a halt, she couldn't walk in like this. She lent against the nearby wall as breathing became a more difficult task, her hand went to her chest as it felt as if somebody was sitting on top of it and that action would push the invisible force off of her, but of course that didn't work. Her heart continued to thud harder as her panic continued, affecting her hearing as it thumped in her ears, to the point she didn't hear the footsteps of the person approaching her. 

 “Lily?” Drake's  voice called, as he tried to interrupt her panic but his attempt failed, she was too focused on the deafening sound of her heart beating in her chest. “Lil,” he called again, and luckily this time seemed to snap her out of it somewhat. 

She turned to face him, with tears pricking at her eyes and a sense of fear in them. He felt his heart pang with guilt. “Sorry, what?”

Her eyes darted around the hallway around her and back to him, then back to the floor, her breathing became more laboured and shallow as her panic continued to rise.  Her hands shook, her feet tingled as they stayed fixed to the floor being the only thing that was grounding her in  the sea of panic and fear that was surrounding her. Her heart thudded in her chest like it was going to burst right out from her rib cage. She was scared, what was he going to think about her? Nobody was supposed to see this, least of all Drake. Their relationship was...complicated to put it lightly. 

She could see through her tear clouded vision that Drake was scared, she could see the fear in his chocolate brown eyes. Which in turn made her feel guilty, which made her cry harder. Every attempt at trying to stop panic taking over failed miserably, every technique she had learned didn't work, the panic had already gotten its vicious claws in and it wasn't letting go. 

She tried to stop her crying, but her efforts failed resulting in her crying more and not breathing properly other than some strangled breaths here and there.  It hadn’t  been going on long but she was exhausted, she was worn out before this started after not getting a wink of sleep the night before and this most certainly wasn't helping. 

“It's okay,” she heard Drake's  soothing voice tell her, but it wasn’t, she wasn’t okay, none of it was okay. She felt him put a hand on her shoulder, but it felt foreign to her at that moment, so she pulled away from her friend's touch. 

“Lily, it’s okay,” Drake affirmed. She looked up at him as tears accumulated in her ocean blue eyes, that soon cascaded down her face, leaving tear streaks down her cheeks. 

Drake pulled her gently against him. “I’m here. I’ve got you. Lily, it’s okay,” he soothed.  

He couldn’t do anything to stop it, all he could do was help her through it, but he wasn't really sure how to do that.  

“It's okay,” Drake whispered as he ran his fingers through her long, dirty blonde hair.  

Finally Lily's tears had come to a stop as it became easier for her to breathe, rather than taking in a few strangled breaths in between cries. Neither of them knew how much time had gone by. 

She pulled out of his grip, wiping her tired and sore eyes. After she had steeled herself, she looked up to him, her red and puffy blue eyes meeting his similar chocolate brown ones. Mascara dripped down her cheeks, her eyes were red and puffy, her hair was all out of place from where Drake had run his fingers through It in an attempt to soothe her. Drake had noticeably  been crying and had lily’s snot and tears down his denim jacket as a few stray tears ran down his own cheeks. When Lily let herself break down it was always like she had opened a floodgate and there was nothing that  could be done to shut it again. 

“Lil-” 

Drake placed a hand on her face and gently turned her head so she was looking up at him. He wiped the stray tears that ran freely down her cheeks with his thumb.  

“I’m sorry,” she said, trying to not let anymore tears fall as she locked eyes with him. 

“How long has this been going on for?” 

Lily wiped at her eyes, “A few months,” she explained, sniffling. 

Drake’s expression fell. They weren't dating, not properly, but he thought she would tell him if she was struggling, apparently not. “You should’ve told me earlier – I could have helped you.” 

“I’m fine,” she insisted. 

“Lily…” 

She took  in a deep breath, wiped at her eyes and looked back up to him, “We need to go in. My dad will be wondering where I am.” 

“Talk to me,” Drake pleaded. 

“I can't,” she snapped. “Okay? I just can’t. Now, I need to go in there-” 

“And act like everything’s fine? Like you didn't just have a panic attack?” Drake asked, raising his voice, although he didn't mean to. He was worried about her. He was frustrated. 

Tears welled in her eyes when she looked up to him. “Yes.”

Drake shook his head in disbelief, “You know, we all need a little help sometimes. That’s nothing to be ashamed of.” 

“It is if you are in my family. You think my father will, what show me affection? Kindness because I can't keep it together? Look how he treated Liam. I mean, Leo had to drag you back because my dad was awful to him. He punished him for being scared. Or how he made it all much worse for Leo when he was depressed a few years ago. We’re not allowed to be scared, Drake. We have to carry on when it feels like the fucking walls are closing in on us,” she explained, “That's just the way it is. There’s no changing it. There’s no talking about it to him. Ever.” 

“I’m here. Talk to me,” Drake encouraged.

“And say what? That it feels like time is collapsing in on itself,  that every day, hour, minute, hell every second just blends in together to create this suffocating, vicious, never ending loop?” 

“Yes! Lily...I’m worried about you,” Drake revealed, “I just want you to talk to me or anyone! I just want you to be okay.” 

“I am,” she shrugged. 

“Ignoring it won't make it go away. Believe me.” 

“So suddenly you’re the expert?” Lily scoffed, “look, I’m dealing with it...it’s getting better. This is the first panic attack I've had in a month...What are you doing here anyway?” 

“Your dad was wondering where you were- asked me to come and find you,” Drake explained. 

“Well then-” she started,wiping once again at her eyes with the sleeve of her dress to try and remove the dripping mascara away by looking at her reflection in the mirror, then smoothed down her dress sniffled as she looked back up to Drake. “It’s best not to keep the king waiting,” she said, her voice monotone as she pushed past him and toward the ballroom. 

“So that’s it, you’re not gonna talk about it?” Drake asked, calling after her. 

“Nope!”

#wacky drabble #the royal romance fanifc #trr #trr choices #drake x oc #'

[mcousland]

I was about to be like “33? That’s so many!” And then I started tagging my own and I shut up REAL fast gjskgjskfh.... how about random numbers 3, 12 and 30?

Thank you!!! ^.^ // Send me a character or number between 1-33 and I'll fill out this character form for them.

Full Name: Bonnie Clark Gender and Sexuality: Bi-Curious Woman Pronouns: She/Her Ethnicity/Species: Human Birthplace and Birthdate: San Sahanne Guilty Pleasures: Requesting items from Holland van Daal (who has promised to deliver whatever she needs), late mornings in bed with Morgan, allowing the dog onto the bed while Morgan is away on a mission, spoiling the hell out of Jasper Phobias: SPIDERS AND SNAKES, being alone, idk if it counts but she is Fear.jpeg when it comes to violence What They Would Be Famous For: Her art! What They Would Get Arrested For: An accomplice to murder or some other crime—she did nothing, but her friends absolutely did OC You Ship Them With: Morgan Clark Favorite Movie/Book Genre: Romances Least Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: Villains who are evil for no? apparent?? reason??? She hates violence for the sake of violence Talents and/or Powers: Very good at art, rocking babies to sleep and persuading outlaws into being kinder Why Someone Might Love Them: She has,,, endless empathy for folk of all kind, even those who others have written off. Why Someone Might Hate Them: She can be prone to be inaction if she's told violence is the only/easiest option. How They Change: Bonnie used to be positively terrified of outlaws and the town of False Cross—now she's married to one, close friends with the King and Queen of them, and calls False Cross her home. Why You Love Them: She is the Most Innocent woman in a town full of criminals and runaways, who just wants to sit with her paints and little family in peace. She's a cute little ray of sunshine and so different from my usual instincts for a character that it's fun to get into her head.

———

Full Name: Ellana Lavellan Gender and Sexuality: Bisexual Woman Pronouns: She/her Ethnicity/Species: Dalish Elf Birthplace and Birthdate: 30th Cloudreach, haven't really decided on her birth place yet?? Guilty Pleasures: Sleeping 👏 in 👏 when she really should get going with her day, spending extra time bathing and caring for her hair, the little sweets from Orlais Phobias: Also hates spiders, and failure What They Would Be Famous For: She's the Inquisitor, it comes with the job What They Would Get Arrested For: Stealing back elven history OC You Ship Them With: @cityandking's Vesper Trevelyan! (Also lowkey my own Hawke) Favorite Movie/Book Genre: Nature documentaries/fantasy Least Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: When the "hero" of the story finally has the villain defeated, then lets them go because they're "better than them". Like nah, they're awful and you don't need to teach them a lesson just end it Talents and/or Powers: All of the expected ones to come from a tempest rogue; she's a very gifted hunter because of her perceptive nature and skill in tracking Why Someone Might Love Them: When she dedicates herself to a cause, she gives it her 110% effort and attention. She would do anything to see those she cares for protected and happy Why Someone Might Hate Them: She can come off as biased to the plights of elves and mages, making her decisions that result in their favor come off as nonsense to other parties How They Change: She evolved from a very codependent girl into a woman who was confident in herself and knew she did not need anybody to get by (though it is an added benefit) Why You Love Them: She's my little empath who throws herself into danger at the first chance provided when she thinks someone she cares about is in trouble. She is also like,, top 2 of my characters who can feel history's eyes on her, but unlike the other(s) she actively worried that it will be rewritten to exclude part of her identity or accomplishments and it is Fascinating to think about how that affects her in her actions/worries/etc. I love characters who are,,, Aware of the part they are playing in a bigger picture and she's a fun experiment in it

———

Full Name: Rowena Rothenel Gender and Sexuality: Pansexual Pronouns: She/her, they/them Ethnicity/Species: Changeling Birthplace and Birthdate: oh fuck, I don't know for this one she hasn't had a lot of development Guilty Pleasures: The guiltiest pleasure she has is being friends with one or two Clandestine Providence members, it makes her feel awful about herself if she thinks too long on it. Has probably slept with one or two of them, but the friendship hits different for her Phobias: Flying, choking, hurricanes or other Strong weather events What They Would Be Famous For: In the perfect world, being the inside spy that helped with the ultimate end of the Providence cult What They Would Get Arrested For: GOD murder, theft, blackmail, uhh,,, like everything OC You Ship Them With: I don't actually have a ship for Rowena at the moment! Favorite Movie/Book Genre: Murder mysteries Least Favorite Movie/Book Cliche: The "I didn't know I was hot" trope where someone insanely attractive had No Idea they were so good looking Talents and/or Powers: Rogue Stuff. A master of fabricating stories and deceiving people to tell them Why Someone Might Love Them: Everything she does is to protect her family, and even then she risks her own safety by working against the Providence right under their noses by helping assassination targets escape instead of taking them out Why Someone Might Hate Them: She has committed a lot of terrible acts and insists they needed to be done, and some could argue their necessity How They Change: I don't have enough time with her to have an answer for this one :/ Why You Love Them: I needed to have one (1) double agent character for this Cult threat and ding dang it, I love her. She only say play once in a silly little one-on-one with the DM to pass some time, but she's always waiting in the wings as a secondary if she's needed and I love that about her lmao

#seadeepy #bonnie clark #ellana lavellan #rowena rothenel #some Gals #two rogues and a housewife sjsfnasn

[camimcndcs]

having your baby

TAGGING: KJ @itskjapa​, Cami.

LOCATION: Los Angeles, CA.

TIMEFRAME: July 14th, 2020.

NOTES: After a welcome home greeting, Camila shares the news with KJ.

KJ: The past few days had been entertaining and invigorating; as always whenever KJ immersed himself in what the people in his life called the ‘Kiwi mode’. Being able to enjoy nature and get away from everything for a little bit was a necessity. The only downside, whenever he got to partake in such moments, was leaving his fiancée behind. He had missed Camila as soon as he had closed the door behind his form on Thursday — feeling rather guilty deep down when she felt so sick in the first place. There was no arguing with someone as determined as her at the end of the day though. He had learned his lesson years ago, even if it never prevented him from trying nonetheless. Humming along to the song that was currently playing as he drove in the direction of their house, the brunette was eager to be reunited with his other half. Now that they were certain a stomach bug was the cause of her sickness, he felt infinitely better — he could only guess she was just as relieved after having to wait so long in order to have the results of her blood test. They could focus on more positive matters, like making up for the time they had spent being apart. Something they never failed to enjoy to the fullest. As he finally reached Nichols Canyon, he slowed down the car and parked in front of their home; grabbing the bag that had been placed on the passenger seat along with the flowers he had bought on his way. A cheerful whistled sound flew past his lips while he moved up the stairs leading to the front door — somehow quite sure Camila was already aware of his presence and would most certainly greet him before he could even touch the doorknob.

Cami: The days without KJ at home had felt long, yet short at the same time. While it felt like she hadn't seen him in forever, it also felt like he had only just left a few days before. She'd been happy to let him go enjoy some time with their friends, but now knowing what she knew, Camila was eager to have him home with her. Telling him she was pregnant via text message hadn't seemed like the way to go so she'd told a little white lie to tide them both over until he got home. Camila had almost told Lili the night before but she had refrained because she didn't want anyone finding out before KJ. This afternoon Lili had helped her prepare dinner, it was just chicken with some veggies, but Camila had insisted on having a home cooked meal ready for him when he returned to her. After assisting her in the kitchen, Lili had gone home to wait for Cole. She had changed into a flowy summer dress and tied the top half of her hair back into a little bun. They hadn't seen each other since Thursday and she had big news to share, but she also just wanted to enjoy the evening with her fiancé and celebrate his new movie too. The sound of Truffle's feet running across the hardwood floors alerted Camila that her fiancé had probably just pulled into the driveway and as she looked out the window, sure enough there he was stepping out of his truck. Leaving the food in the oven to stay warm, she wiped her hands on a towel and ran to answer the door before he could even touch the doorknob, pulling it open with a smile as they came face to face. "Baby!" she squealed, wrapping her arms around him. "I missed you so much," she added, pulling back to look into his eyes, almost bursting into tears right then and there as she looked at the father of the child growing inside of her, that they had made together with so much love.

KJ: Just as he had predicted, the door was flung open and his fiancée welcomed him with open arms. In the literal sense of the expression. A joyful laugh tumbled from his mouth as their bodies collided in a needy and tight embrace -- his eyes fluttered shut while he breathed in the wonderful smell of the perfume she always used. The lack of physical contact during the last few days had been unlike any other times they had found themselves separated. KJ couldn't quite explain it, although perhaps it all came down to the fact that he knew Camila wasn't feeling well, but he had found himself compelled to leave his friends behind many times during their camping trip. Yet resisting because she never failed to remind him he needed to enjoy his trip. "God, I've missed you too." he mumbled in the crook of her neck, brushing his lips against the tender skin before meeting her gaze when she pulled away. She was looking at him as if he had hung up the moon and he knew the emotions swirling in his brown orbs were matching her own. There was nothing like coming home. Even if in that moment, he hadn't even set foot in the house they shared. Still standing on the threshold with his fiancée wrapped up around him. "I'm not going anywhere now." he told her with a slight shake of his head, intently looking into her eyes while making her walk backward so they could be away from prying eyes. His bag landed on the floor with a thud and although the brunette was two seconds away from pouncing on her, he suddenly recalled the flowers he was still holding onto. "For my beautiful fiancée. I'm so glad you're feeling better." As soon as she would take the flowers from him, there would be no telling exactly what he would do next. Especially when she was, as always, a sight for sore eyes.

Cami: The sound of his laughter filled Camila's ears which brought a huge smile to her face. She giggled as he mumbled into the crook of her neck, kissing the tender skin before looking into her eyes as she pulled away. He was mirroring the look of love that she was showing him, but she knew that as soon as she was able to tell him the exciting news they'd both be a mess of tears. As he made her walk backwards into the house, she giggled some more when his bag hit the floor with a thud. There was a slight look of lust in his eyes and Camila wondered if this night would go the way she had planned it. "You'd better not be going anywhere," she replied with a smile. "I finally get you all to myself." As he reached out his hand to present her with flowers, she took them with a gasp, overjoyed by the sweet gesture. "I'm so glad I'm feeling better too, oh, baby, I love them," she exclaimed, running to put them in water before she made her way back to him. "I made dinner, Lils helped me, it's staying warm in the oven, are you hungry?" she asked, looking at him with a sudden look of lust in her own eyes. Camila wasn't really feeling hungry since some food still made her feel queasy, but she had some soup in the fridge if the chicken and veggies didn't suit her. There was a new sense of hunger filling her up right now though as she eyed her fiancé from where they were standing in the kitchen. "I missed you so much," she whispered, reaching her hand out to caress his cheek, standing up on her tiptoes to capture his lips in her own. She hadn't kissed him since before he'd left on Thursday. It had truly been too long. As their lips touched, she couldn't help but hum in satisfaction at the feeling, her stomach was filled with butterflies and warmth as their tongues began to explore each others mouths just like they always did. They were both eager to be in each other's presence again and she had a feeling he'd be hoisting her up and taking her on the kitchen counter soon enough.

KJ: Before he could make another move, KJ was left watching her retreat further into the house in order to take care of the flowers he had gifted her. Thus ruining any plan his mind had tried to conjure up as soon as they had finally been reunited. He couldn't help but allow his intense gaze to roam over her body -- the summer dress she was wearing moving along with each motion of her curves. Enticing him to follow suit in the direction of the kitchen. Which he did without a second thought, pushing the front door close and separating the distance between; his arms instinctively sneaking around her waist and drawing her against him. "You cooked for me? I'm honored, aye." he replied with a bright smile crossing his lips, having noticed the smell despite the fact that his undivided attention had been on Camila from the very beginning. The brunette knew quite well his fiancée was no expert in the cooking department, but she had taken the time to prepare something for him nonetheless. Just for that reason alone, he wasn't going to let the food go to waste -- though, as she had mentioned, it was currently staying warm in the oven. Surely they could spare some time to greet one another properly. "I missed you too, babe. More than you can imagine." It was all the words that were needed as their lips met passionately and their tongues sought each other out. Fusing and breaking apart, only to reconnect again. A dance they both knew so well and were constantly eager to partake in. His hands hurriedly ventured under the fabric of her dress, seeking her ass and squeezing the flesh. Pulling her even closer against his hard body before swiftly hoisting her up on the counter top -- his mouth withdrawing as soon from their kiss and trailing along the side of her neck. Tracing a burning path down the column of her throat and to her cleavage. There was no need for actual food when you could feast on such a beautiful creature.

Cami: As his arm snuck around her waist, pulling her closer once she'd gotten the flowers in water, Camila couldn't help but hum in satisfaction. "I wanted to do something nice to welcome you home," she whispered. Smiling sweetly at his proclamation about missing her there was no time to relay the sentiment while their tongues were being shoved down each others throat. At the feeling of KJ's hands hurriedly venturing under the fabric of her dress to squeeze at the flesh of her ass, Camila let out a low moan. Within a few seconds he had pulled her even closer against his body and was now hoisting her up on the counter top she had cleaned before his arrival. Camila's hands roamed his backside, sneaking under the fabric of his shirt to scratch at his back. His mouth moved from her lips to the side of her neck, stretching her head to one side to give him more access to the patch of skin she couldn't help but let out another moan as he traced a burning path down the column of her throat, to her cleavage. Her breasts had been feeling a bit sore the last couple of days, another pregnancy symptom she had somehow missed when she thought she just had the flu, but she had a feeling her fiancé would take good care of them. Camila's hands that had been roaming his back muscles, moved to push down the thin straps of her summer dress, letting them fall down her arms to reveal her braless state. There had been no reason for her to wear a bra when she knew that they didn't plan to leave the house and at some point they would find themselves in this position. Leaning back on the counter to extend her body and give him room to explore what he had been missing since Thursday, Camila propped herself up on her hands and closed her eyes. Rolling her head back as her fiancé continued to explore her skin, eager to have him in control as they reunited with each other in their favorite way. "Have your way with me," she whispered in a low voice, puffing her chest out to give him access.

KJ: The feeling of her hands exploring his body was spurring him on. Shivers ran down his spine as her nails raked along his flesh — increasing the arousing state that he was currently submerged with. The time they had spent apart obviously played an important role in the way they were behaving. Though no matter the circumstances, they both never needed much of an excuse to maul one another. Her simple presence was exciting all on its own. KJ pulled back long enough to allow her to push down the straps of her dress, revealing her perfect round breasts and the already taut nipples that had reacted to his ministrations. “So fucking beautiful and all mine.” he mumbled, taking in the sight when Camila leaned back on the furniture before reattaching his mouth to her warm skin. Only to resume his previous motions, lips and tongue hotly trailing toward her chest. She was an addiction that he didn’t want to part from. Something he needed more than the cigarettes he was smoking on the daily. Being with his fiancée was an experience that was unlike any other and he couldn’t see a future in which his entire being wouldn’t feel exhilarated at the thought of it. A mischievous smirk settled on his features at the words she uttered and flickering his gaze upward to meet her own, the brunette caught a nipple in his mouth — sucking harshly on the nub and playfully biting as his tongue swirled around the flesh. His eyes didn’t falter as he repeated the movements, increasing the pressure with each swipe of the muscle. While one hand gripped her thigh, the other reached out for the unattended breast; kneading the mound with unrelenting touches. Ready to please her in a way she was always so fond of. The sounds elicited sending jolts straight to his groin. “Gonna make you cum so hard.” he smugly told her in between motions, bucking his hips forward in order to find some relief.

Cami: When her breasts sprang free from the confinement of the dress, she kept a close eye on KJ's face to see his reaction to her already taut nipples that had hardened as his lips had roamed her chest. "All yours," she whispered from her leaned back position, moaning as his lips and tongue trailed hotly along her chest, spurring her on even more. Camila had surely missed being like this with him. Sure they'd had their fun one night while he was deep in the woods, but nothing ever compared to his touch and his mouth. She peeked up to witness the smirk on his face at the next words she uttered, biting her lip and closing her eyes again as he caught a nipple in his mouth. It hurt for just a second, but then it felt too good to say anything and suddenly she was moaning uncontrollably at the feeling. Any pain she had felt was washed away as his motions began to spur her on even more. "Fuck, babe, you’re so good with your mouth..." she whispered hotly, arching her back as he repeated the movements with his tongue and teeth on the nub. One of his hands gripped at her thigh while the other reached for the unattended breast, his name tumbled from her lips a few times as she reacted to his touch. His unrelenting kneading of the mound relaxed her and actually help ease the feeling of soreness in her breasts. "That feels so good, babe. God, I've missed you," she cried out, bucking her hips in response to his own hips bucking. "Can't wait for you to make me cum so hard, wanna feel you inside me," she whispered, spreading her legs a bit as he continued to tend to her breasts. Camila leaned forward for just a second to whisper hotly into his ear, "I'm not wearing any underwear." She had come fully prepared for this rendezvous in their kitchen after she had made the request the previous night.

KJ: A groan rumbled from his chest as Camila leaned forward and whispered in his ear, his awakening member twitching against the confinement of his pants at the visual that he was left with. This woman knew perfectly well how to get him going like no one had ever been able to before. With her by his side, KJ had found a whole new world with so much excitement and adventure -- despite their differences personality wise, they had never failed to meet halfway. And no matter how many times they lost themselves in each other, being together was as thrilling as that first kiss on his couch back in Vancouver. She had ignited a fire within his being that had burned from the moment they had met four years ago. Quiet and timid, only to turn into a volcano that would never go dormant. Abruptly pulling away from her chest, he made quick work of his belt with one hand while the other urged her to bunch up the dress around her waist; brown eyes intently fixed on the apex of her thighs in order to witness for himself the little secret she had revealed mere moments ago. "Fuck, babe. You're gonna get it so good." he moaned, popping the button of his denim shorts open and pulling the zipper down. A soft exhale flowing past his lips as his erection found itself released from the tightness of the fabric. His boxers being the only article of clothing that was still preventing it from fully springing free. Dragging his fiancée to the edge of the counter, the brunette didn't waste any time driving two of his fingers past her neither lips -- a wide grin painted on his face as he was met with the dampness that had been pooling. Making sure she was fully ready for him with sharp motions. No matter how rough they could be with each other, the goal was always the same; submerging her with pleasure.

Cami: As he abruptly pulled away from her chest, she let out a soft whimper, pouting slightly at the loss of contact but grinning soon after as she watched him make quick work of his belt with one hand. His other hand got to work urging her to bunch up her dress around her waist which she took to doing promptly. KJ's brown eyes were intently seeking out the little secret she had revealed to him in that sweet spot between her thighs that he liked so much. Once her dress was bunched up at her waist, she let her legs spread just a little more, letting out a moan as he told her she was going to get it so good. When he popped the button on his denim shorts open, pulling the zipper down, Camila used her hands to push the article of clothing past his ass so they fell to the floor. Strong hands and a stronger grip pulled her to the edge of the counter where her legs were spread for him as he wasted no time driving two of his fingers past her neither lips into her dampness. Camila threw her head back, crying out at the feeling of him touching her yet again. "Fuck, yes, babe, keep going," she called out, moaning as his fingers plunged in and out in quick, sharp motions. Camila was more than ready for what he had planned for them. She was incredibly eager for him to fully submerge her with pleasure as he always did. Pushing herself up to an almost seated position, Camila gripped the waistband of his boxers and pushed them down, eager to see just how he had been affected by the noises she was making. When his erection sprang free, she reached her hand down to grab it, "I want you inside of me," she whispered, burying her face into his shoulder as she peppered it with kisses. His fingers were still inside of her, but she was ready for more, eager for more. "I need it, babe. Need to feel you inside of me," she whimpered, gripping his member a little tighter as she bucked her hips against him.

KJ: KJ had barely been able to register the fact that the denim shorts had been disregarded, his attention solely focused on the movements of his fingers — vigorously prepping her core for his hard member. Though he was soon aware of the actual lack of clothing when Camila pushed the last remaining article down in order to access the part of his body that was yearning for more. Here he was, as usual, in the palm of her hand. In the literal sense in this case. He could only be thankful as she simply tightened her grip instead of stroking him — knowing too much stimulation before their quickie would end their time together even faster. “Baby.” he exhaled loudly, fluttering his eyes closed as her lips moved along his shoulder; the words uttered only increasing this devouring need to be with her. She was so wet and it felt like he would painfully throb soon enough if he didn’t find comfort inside of her. Just as swiftly as he had gotten rid of his belt previously, the brunette made her loose her grip and guided his erection where his fingers were still heavily pumping in and out of her. Halting the motions just as suddenly as he had started them and replacing the digits with the tip of his length. Slowly delving past her walls before pushing himself all the way in — not giving anyone the time to adjust to the new feeling as he smashed his pelvis against her lower body. “Just like that, aye? This is what you wanted, didn’t you?” he taunted her, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as he kept up with his movements. The sensation their joined bodies was procuring him exactly what he had been missing. Although their coupling was harsh, the look in his eyes was still filled with all the love he held for his fiancée. The kind of feeling that was constantly swirling in his orbs no matter what.

Cami: Quickly removing her grip from his throbbing erection, KJ took the chance to guide his member into the area in which his fingers were still heavily pumping in and out of her. Camila let out a moan as he halted the motions just as quickly as he had started them and replaced his digits with the tip of his length. He moved slowly past her wells before pushing himself completely in which had her crying out in pleasure. There was no time to adjust to the new feeling as he smashed his pelvis against her lower body. "Yes, baby, yes! Fuck!" she called out in response to the questions he was taunting her with. Camila moved her hands up his arms to rest in the hair at the nape of his neck which she played with as he thrust inside of her. Every so often she would buck her hips in response to the feeling of him inside of her. He was looking at her with so much love which could've made her cry if she switched her focus from the sensation overtaking her body to remembering there was a baby growing inside of her that they had created just a few weeks ago and he still had no idea. Camila bit down on her lip as she watched him, throwing her head back and letting out a groan as warmth spread through her body bringing her closer and closer to the edge with every thrust of his pelvis. She could already feel herself preparing to completely lose herself in the actions they were partaking in. "Fuck, babe. You're so good, so so good," she praised him as her eyes rolled back into her head in a fit of pleasure. "I'm so close, baby, so fucking close," she cried out as her breathing quickened and she let out sounds in response to the ministrations he was bestowing upon her. "Baby, please, I'm gonna..." she called out. Trying to slow down her breathing so she didn't completely lose it so suddenly. Camila wanted time to enjoy being together like this before she changed their lives with her news.

KJ: Everything about their kitchen encounter was done with hurried motions destined to provide the kind of pleasure they had both been seeking. The sexting they had partaken in during the weekend had simply been a temporary fix until they could finally be together again. They had the entire day to truly enjoy one another. But right now, right here, the desire that animated his being was eager to be satisfied. And Camila was the only person who could give him the relief he was longing for. KJ wasn’t surprised in the slightest when her depths started contracting around his length — making him grunt as he continued to slam himself inside of her. Intent on building up the pleasure that was invading them both. “I know, babe. Fuck— you’re gonna make me cum too. So, so good.” Those quickies never failed to be like their names; it was so easy to get lost in the sensations they were both overcome with. To have one simple goal in mind: their mutual orgasm. This was about reconnecting with each other in the kind of physical way they both rejoiced in. Both of his hands tightened their grip on her thighs, spreading her legs even more as he pushed them back onto the surface. Allowing more room while he maneuvered his hips back and forth relentlessly. The brunette kept reminding himself that they would get the opportunity to do so much more later on that day. Anything their little perverted selves would want. Which is why he didn’t falter one bit, his thumb moving to the bundle of nerves that would push her over the edge and rubbing furiously. “Cum for me. C’mon, I wanna feel you. I’m right here.” he panted, feeling the muscles in his body tense up as the fire burning inside the pit of his stomach was becoming uncontrollable. Ready to burn him whole as soon as she would give him exactly what he was awaiting.

Cami: It had been so long since they'd been together it made sense that their first encounter when he came home would be quick. They could take their time later, but right now there was an itch they were both trying to scratch after being separated for more days than they'd ever been separated since getting together. As her walls began to contract around him she smirked at the grunting sound he made while he continued to slam himself inside of her. "Mhm, good, baby. Can't wait to feel you spilling out inside of me," she let out with a moan, enjoying the sensation of his body slamming into hers. As his hands tightened on her thighs, spreading her legs even farther apart as he pushed them back towards the surface of the kitchen counter, she let out a cry as he continued to move his hips back and forth even more relentlessly than he had in the beginning. She could feel the fire within herself ready to explode at any moment. As soon as his thumb moved to her bundle of nerves she knew that she would soon be a goner. She could feel his thumb furiously rubbing against her bundle of nerves as both of their bodies tensed up. "Fuck! Fuck!" she cried out. "I'm gonna cum so good for you," she panted, throwing her head back as she felt her release take over her body and spill out around his throbbing member, she hadn't felt like this since the day he'd left. She'd missed him so much, everything about him. Camila remained propped up on the counter, breathing heavily as her orgasm washed over her and waited for him to find his release. "Come on, baby, cum for me," she breathed out, still coming down from her high. She bucked her hips against his own to spur him on, knowing he would come undone soon after watching her experience her very own orgasm. They always soon followed after the other. Always turned on by how the other reacted to the sensations coursing through their body.

KJ: There was strictly nothing like the sight of Camila abandoning herself to the pleasure that took over her body — the expression crossing her features as her juices coated his hard member more than enough to push him over the edge as well. Urgency coursing through his being as he kept pounding into her; needing to reach that turning point that would make him unravel. “Fuck, Cami.” he groaned, keeping his eyes shut as the pleasurable sensations crashed upon him. His motions picking up their pace for a brief moment as he emptied himself inside her core. Before gradually slowing down until he simply allowed himself to find refuge in the crook of her neck — chest heaving up and down rapidly and his hot breath tickling her flesh. The aftermath was just as good if not better than the actual act. Perhaps not better, he corrected himself mentally, but it definitely deserved a place at the top. Such moment was sacred. Both bodies sweaty and seeking comfort from the other — the warmth radiating like a blanket that they were sharing in front of a burning fire. KJ took his time settling down from the high he had experienced. Keeping Camila close to him and peppering her skin with feather like kisses when he found the strength to lift up his head; pressing his lips to her earlobe and chuckling to himself before he had even uttered the words he wanted to share. “I’m just so good, might as well be preggo already.“ he joked, another chuckle following suit as he wrapped his arm around her body — basking in her presence and the wonderful emotions she evoked without much trouble. This was the kind of welcome home he could definitely get used to. That and food. Which is when his nose picked up on the smell again, his stomach growling as soon and eliciting a laugh. “Didn’t you say something about cooking a nice meal for me, aye?”

Cami: Watching as a wave of pleasure came over KJ and he completely gave into it,  the pace of his thrusts picking up briefly to get him right where he needed to be. Camila hummed as she felt him spilling out inside of her, filling her with his goodness, just like always. As he found refuge in the crook of her neck, she played with the hair at the nape of his neck and giggled as his hot breath tickled her flesh. There was something so gentle and sweet about the moments they shared together after sex, when it was just the two of them, basking in each others presence. Sex with KJ was incredible, but she enjoyed coming down from their highs together just as much as she enjoyed the sex. For different reasons of course. When he began to pepper her skin with kisses, she blushed, giggling again as he pressed her lips to her earlobe. He chuckled to himself before speaking and she could only roll her eyes knowing that whatever he was about to say was bound to be something stupidly funny. At his joking words her eyes widened, but he was wrapping his arm around her body to bask in her presence before she could speak up. Camila heard his stomach growl ever so slightly which made her laugh again, but she was still startled by what he had said previously. "What? Oh, yeah, a nice meal," she giggled, pushing herself up to an upright sitting position on the counter. "But, uh, before we get to the meal... I think you should know that you don't have to worry about trying to get me pregnant because you already succeeded in that task," she explained, her tone was a bit nervous, not because she was worried he'd be upset, but just because this was a big life change and she was just nervous in general about it. Excited, but nervous. Seeking out his eyes, she bit down on her lip, waiting to see how he would react.

KJ: Although enough time had passed for KJ to come down from his high, his mind was still a little fogged up — his hands holding onto the counter as he pulled back from her neck in order to keep himself upright with the sudden change of position. Which is why he wasn’t able to take notice of the nervousness that had taken over his fiancée. Nor the way she stumbled over the words she uttered. A clear sign that there was something else going on. Withdrawing from her heat with a quiet moan, he tucked his length back in his boxers and reached out for the jeans he had decided to cut into shorts; securing the piece of fabric around his lower body once more. The brunette had been listening with one ear, not really focusing on what Camila was saying but feeling like he had gotten the gist of it nonetheless. Quite enough for a loud snort to escape him before he caught her lips in a sloppy kiss. “That would be quite the super sperm, aye.” he joked yet again, directing his gaze toward the oven and pondering on what she had been able to cook. There was another kind of hunger he needed to satisfy now — it was with this thought in mind that his body suddenly froze. His brain finally catching up to everything that had been said and done; along with the look Camila had given him. The last thing he wanted was to make a big deal if there was no reason for it. Ultimately, it meant confessing to the fact that he hadn’t properly listened to her in the first place. Though at this point, he was ready to face her wrath if it meant being a hundred percent sure he had fully understood the situation. As his brown eyes found their way back onto her features, he quietly observed her for a handful of seconds — blinking like an idiot and licking his dry lips. Anxious to say the words that were on the tip of his tongue. “I already succeeded?” It was asked in such a hopeful and timid way, a part of him was ready to be laughed at for even entertaining the idea that this could be real.

Cami: As he quickly withdrew from her heat and tucked himself back into his boxers, she silently cursed herself for bringing this up right now. Of course he couldn't focus after that mind-blowing quickie they'd just endured together. She couldn't blame him, but it had just slipped out after his joke. Camila wanted to huff and puff at the snort that escaped him, but she knew he thought she was just teasing him back so she couldn't blame him. Their lips met in a sloppy kiss and she giggled against them, rolling her eyes at his joke about 'super sperm'. His attention then moved toward the oven and Camila reached her hands out to pull his face toward her again. "Babe, I don't think you have super sperm," she muttered, holding his face in her hands as she watched the pieces fall into place for him, though he still wasn't looking at her. She knew he hadn't really been listening to her, but she wasn't going to hold that against him now. As his brown eyes found their way back to her, she could feel him quietly observing her as he blinked rapidly and licked his dry lips. At his hopeful and timid question all she could do was nod her head furiously as tears threatened to spill from her eyes. "Yes, baby, you already succeeded, sometime in between our birthdays," she explained with a huge grin on her face. "I didn't have the stomach flu... We're having a baby!" she squealed, dropping her hands from his face to press them against her stomach. Now that she knew she was pregnant she couldn't stop touching it, even if there was no cute baby bump yet. It would be there soon and she was going to look at it, touch it and document it every step of the way. Camila was so happy to have finally told him, now this was their little secret, a secret they would share with their families after her prenatal appointment when they had ultrasound pictures to share and a video of the heartbeat. This would be their parents first grandchild, they had to do it all up real big for them.

#( para )

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

Babysitting and Pizzamanning

Calm down, calm down, calm down!

Who was that even directed to? Castiel? Or the infant in his arms?

Castiel continued to cradle the baby, bouncing slightly as he shifted weight from one hip to the other, to an inaudible rhythm. Gia, Nora's daughter, and his charge for the night, cried, unaffected by his many efforts to make her stop.

Why isn't she calming down!? Could something be wrong?

Castiel had just changed her diaper, and they'd already had dinner, and Gia had been enthusiastic about the mush-up Nora had left behind with instructions.

The day wasn't too cold, and it wasn't too hot. She seemed fine before, too - though the pink of her cheeks now was probably to be attributed to the continuous crying, rather than good health.

Shouldn't get tensed around the baby, Cas. Shouldn't, at all.

But, sweaty and exhausted, as Castiel sighed nervously at the infant in his arms - he knew he wasn't abiding by the commands given by the voice of reason, in his head. How could he not worry? The baby just wouldn't sleep - he'd tried all, from singing, to talking to her, and was back to bouncing on his heels. It was clearly his prime failure as a babysitter, not to mention, it incessantly worried him that something was not right.

Shouldn't get tensed! Everything is fine! You just suck at making her go to sleep! Stop worrying - the baby will sense it, and not stop crying! Don't get tensed!

How could he not?

Think about something else!

And this time, Castiel listened - hurriedly escaping to one of his favorite avenues of thought - Dean Winchester. The man who was perhaps the most perfect part of his life, somehow, his boyfriend too.

It was always surreal thinking of that, but god, Castiel loved the sheer joy which surged through him on thinking of Dean Winchester.

Maybe it's working! The baby just stopped fidgeting!

Okay, then. More thinking of Dean. Huh. Not gonna be a problem.

Of course, there was a certain smidge of worry associated with Dean too, these days. The 18-year-old may have been a Senior, like Castiel - but he worked a helluva lot more. While all the work Castiel did, was things that could earn him credit on college applications - Dean Winchester, son of John Winchester, worked to earn, for himself and his brother. More so, than usual - because John had disappeared again, and his brother was about to start highschool, and that meant a lot more spending, and Castiel knew that Dean held himself responsible for everything Sam Winchester related.

So, Castiel may babysit, because Nora's friends with his dad, but Dean had a variety of jobs, and had 14 hour days, most days of the month and it sucked, in all regards.

The baby may have stopped crying, but you're beginning to get tensed again, and you know what happens then!

Babysitting was not simply a favor. It was an entire psychological enigma, and a challenge of emotions, complete with the threat of the baby crying for what seems like forever if you're responsible for her, if he deflected from his mission.

Okay, then. Not-worrying things about Dean. There were plenty of those, too. He could think of their kisses, the really soft ones, and the against-the-wall ones - that one time in the cafeteria as a gesturical-middle-finger to the homophobic cheerleader, and all of those sneaky, silent ones, which probably he liked best.

But again, 'kissing his boyfriend' wasn't exactly the kind of thinking he needed to be doing, with a silent, sniffling baby in his arms.

Wait. She's gone silent. She's almost still.

"Is Gia sleepy?" He cooed to her, hopefully.

She gurgled incoherently in response, but no. That meant yes, Castiel was pretty sure. Also, his arms were tired for now, and he could just put her in her cradle for once - if need be, he'd pick her up again and do the bounce-her-around-while-thinking-of-Dean thing, he may be good at, considering it brought such a quick result.

"So, I'm gonna put you to bed, okay?" He continued to tell her exactly what he was doing, in his most calming baby-voice, trying hard to keep her as still and probably asleep, as she was. "And Gia's going to go to sleep, right? And Cas will sit down, and hope Gia stays asleep, won't he? And you're going to sleep real nice, alright? G'night, Gia, and sweet dreams, okay?" He finished tucking her in, pulling the little blanket up to her neck, and letting out a sigh as he staggered backwards to the couch and landed with a soundless motion.

The baby-voice sucks - you think it means speaking in third person and adding question tags everywhere, but it's more than that. You do not know how to speak to a baby.

Whatever. Clearly, Gia didn't mind enough to wake up, so he didn't care.

Phew!

Just when Cas was about to bring out his phone, and maybe have a little time to himself - that meant texting Dean, mostly, even though Dean'd probably be too engaged to reply to Cas - the doorbell rang.

Cas glanced at the clock, and no, it wasn't time for Nora to have returned at all. Who else could it be?

He walked to the door, careful not to step too loud - babysitting is not child play, remember? - and looked through the eyehole.

"We didn't order any pizza -" He started, opening the door after catching glimpse of the person's hat.

"How about me, though?" And there was a toothy grin, followed by Dean lifting the hat from his face to meet Cas's eyes. "Any chance you ordered your really sexy boyfriend, with a side of he-fulfils-all-my-kinks?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Cas laughed, pleased to see Dean, as he always is. He pulled Dean into a one-armed hug, and Dean pressed his lips to Cas's neck, and a shudder went through him. "Dean." Cas warned, biting his lip, to keep from smiling too hard - because Dean was here, and kissing him wherever he was allowed, and it was one of the best moods he'd found him lately.

"What, I can't kiss you now?" Dean feigned taking offense. "After I show up here, like this, I don't even get to -"

And Dean may have kept on speaking, but Cas stopped listening.

The dots connected.

Jesus Christ.

The pizzaman and the babysitter. One of the most spectacular moments in their relationship had been when Dean discovered that Cas was watching porn next to him, as he finished up his calculus. It'd been closer to the start of their relationship. He'd looked at Cas like he made no sense, muttered something about not watching porn in a room with another guy, and kissed him silly. But Cas had had no idea he'd remembered.

"...I guess we can finally answer why the pizzaman kept slapping the babysitter's 'rear', though he truly loved her." Dean quoted, mockingly, and Cas broke into a chuckle. "Probably because even after the pizzaman came all the way to the other end of town for the babysitter, after a really long day of a lot of crap, the babysitter wouldn't even let him kiss his neck."

"How are you this great?" Cas mumbled, having run out of words.

Dean rubbed the back of his neck, looking at his feet. "Nevermind all that, Cas. You tell me, how does it feel to be living your porn fantasy -"

"- its not, it just happened to be on -"

"- shuddup, I know this is your secret, wet dream material." Dean teased, leaning in. "But, tell me, though. How turned on are you on a scale from 0 to 10?"

"2, and I feel guilty." Cas threw back, still grinning so hard that it could've physically hurt his face. "I'm babysitting, Dean. And this isn't pornography, though you tried to make it like one and I love you for that, so I can't afford to forget about Gia."

Cas took half a step inside, and Dean looked visibly subdued.

"I -" He let out, in a small voice.

"You did not think this through..?" Cas helped, apologetic, and feeling disappointed himself. Because damn, Dean seemed to be in a total mood. And Cas was, after all, a human teenager in love with him.

"Yeah, no, of course not," Dean huffed. "I know, we can't have s-e-x around a baby."

Cas couldn't help reaching out and cupping Dean's face, and pulling it slightly down to comfortably fit their lips together. "That reminds me of Joey Tribbiani, and you're - awesome, Dean. I don't know, thanks for doing this."

"Though it sucked, in the end." Dean sighed, and suddenly, how tired he was began to be apparent. He was practically slumping, and there were clear dark circles under his eyes - way more prominent than they'd been in the day, at school.

"No, it didn't." Cas objected, furrowing his eyebrows. "Hey, Dean, I have sort of an idea. We obviously cannot," he lowered his voice, with a grin. "Have sex, but you could probably stay. I could ask Nora if I can have a friend over."

"'Gas 'N Sip' Nora?" Dean confirmed. Small town benefits. "Oh, her? Yeah, she likes me. Gives discounts on crap, just because." He smiled, but it was almost forced. Oh, Dean was so exhausted. Cas felt a pang of hurt. "I'm sorta a regular, so -"

"Perfect. I'll text her. She didn't mind the last time, so she really couldn't mind this time either." Cas beamed at him, hiding his worry at Dean's manner. "Come on in. Gia is in the first bedroom on the left, so we'll have to stay there too."

"Thanks," Dean added, after he'd planted another chaste kiss on Castiel's lips, and followed his instructions to go in. Cas heard what he didn't say, but implied. Thanks for not making me go back to my part of town alone, right now.

He worked so hard, Cas awedly thought to himself, as he leaned against the closed door, and typed in a message to Nora.

Seeing the opportunity, he also slipped in a 'Gia is asleep now, but she cried a lot earlier. If you say a doctor is necessary, I can take her. Dean knows Dr. Singer personally.' Satisfied, he walked back to the bedroom.

So what if they hadn't been able to do anything right now? They had the rest of the night to. Nora would be back in a couple of hours. Cas could insist that Dean didn't need to take the bus, and offer to spend the night together at his house.

Then, they could -

But, oh.

Dean was already asleep.

The room was quite empty of furniture except for Gia's cradle and a single couch, and both the baby and his boyfriend lay peacefully asleep on them respectively.

Something inside him melted into a fuzzy warm feeling, as he looked at Dean, snoring slightly, and very asleep for so little time. But then the voice in his head, which was most often, if not always, Dean's, resounded.

Don't watch over people who're sleeping, Cas. That's creepy.

So, Castiel obeyed, and went over to the kitchen, with a smile dangling from his lips, to prepare microwave some of the food Nora left for him - and since she'd given him permission to use her stuff (by which she meant television and WiFi probably, but Cas would extend it to kitchen articles) he began to prepare grilled cheese for his very cheesy boyfriend.

Nor that he'd watched the video many times, or anything, but he was pretty sure it didn't involve the pizzaman falling asleep next to the baby, and looking like the most adorable person to ever exist.

But hey, everyone has their own stories. Every babysitter has their own pizzaman.

PROMPT CREDIT: @geeky-princess

Taglist: @ctrl-alt-destiel @awkward-penguin-in-a-trenchcoat @styggtroll @adventurous-blob @petrichoravellichor @all-or-nothing-baby @iamcharliebradburylevelperfect @moderatelypanickedbisexual @elvenlicht @legendary-destiel @a-mess-of-many-fandoms @trenchcoatsandfreckles @noemithenephilim @naitia @ladywaywarddsc I know this is like the second one of the day (but I probably won't be able to do another for days now, so bear with me!)

#supernatural #spn #destiel #castiel #dean winchester #sheya #i wrote a thing #casdean #fanfiction fluff destiel #sheya shall deliver #deancas #romance #destiel fluff #writers on tumblr #destiel fanfiction #implieddestiel #destielforever #not spoilers #destiel crack #destielfluff #imagine #cliches #babysitter #and pizzaman #writing prompt #my writing #dear mutuals #written in a hurry #tell me whatcha think

[larenoz]

Roswell New Mexico - Live Rewatch - Ep 1 - Pilot

So I don’t really have much in the way of original content on my blog. So I decided it might be fun to post the live blog I’ve been doing on discord of the rewatch our server is doing for Roswell, New Mexico over the hiatus period. 

I’ve only posted my comments, so there might be a couple of bits that look out of place. These are my responses to other people’s comments. I’m up to episode 6, so I will post the backlog and then do one a week until the re-watch is complete.

Be warned, there is swearing. 

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

Sorry, cat decided it wanted a cuddle

I love the glass effect, it's so cool

You may not plan to see the small people again, Liz but we know it's gonna happen!!

Not gonna lie, I love poltics in my TV

You quote that verdict to him, Liz!!

That vent tells us so much about Liz in such a short period of time.

You're finally back says Max.Because he's been waiting for that to happen the whole time.

Excuse me Sheriff, with that good girl comment. Rude!

Arturo, playing along with Liz's mpreg story.

Fuck, I just realised - mpreg is canon!?!

Rosa!!

I want antenna headband

Cream on a milkshake is wrong.

So many people in this show have pretty eyes!!

Nooo.

Damn that's alot of lights to replace

I love that damn bullet hole in Liz's dress. It was the first indication they weren't gonna make everyone dumb as a bag of rocks and drag the storyline out FOR EVER.

Hoverboarding. Iz!!

Hey there Kyle!

Annnd here it comes, I'm in love.

That smug fucking grin. The song.

That look when he's trying to get the keys. That look would make you do just about anything.

That Michael monologue. It just gets better everytime I watch it.

Without a doubt, top 3 best character intros ever.

And we're only 15 mins in! I need to make less comments

I didn't think anyone was reading!! :wink:

"Untie some loose ends" - you go Iz

Oh Max you fucker. Telling Michael he wouldn't do anything for anyone else. Excuse fucking you.

Ok, blasting Max across the room is kinda hot. But then his guilty face! :sob:

And god, that little shoulder touch on Iz one the way out.

Another example of non-verbal storytelling. In one scene we get the fractured relationship between Max and Michael, we get that Iz and Michael are close and that both boys defer/protect Iz. So much with so little. It also sets up the physicality of the broken relationship between Max and Michael.

Others have commented on how Max is physically intimidating with people, and literally pushes Michael around, but to be fair, Michael is pretty much the same with Max (but never really with anyone else that we see on screen though we hear about it.

And then in a few lines, Iz gives us a lifetime of fears and concerns - dissection, prison, lying and hiding to loved ones - the rest of the season in seconds of dialogue

Ah, the ONLY thing that gives me Max feels is how dismissive both Iz and Michael are of Max's feelings about Liz. Especially annoying consider Michael should really fucking know better.

Yeah, because he's been pining for Alex just as long.

Unrequited love hurts just as much. Kiss or no kiss.

That's my take anyway.

Here it comes...

Typing may get bad. Cat is sitting on chest and I can't see keyboard.

Seriously, there is nothing overtly relationshippy or sexual, no pointed stares, but just how soft Michael is, even as he's making the real Manes man comment, you just know these two have a past, and that past was probably intimate.

The casual sex comment though, oh yeah they've fucked. That is such a fuck you comment to an ex.

And again with massive story in few words - Alex knocking his leg. "3/4 of one"

That run and tell Daddy line. The nastiest thing Michael says in the entire season, although we don't know that yet. And it strikes such a dissonant tone, even though we don't know why. I'm gonna put it down to things changing so much between shooting the pilot and the rest of the season.

Just my humble opinion but the shirt changing scene could've lasted longer. Just sayin'

Maths, lots and lots of maths

I love the glass SFX

Rosa!! "All our lives that kids been making eyes at you"

Oh Liz, such a good sister. Fixing up the memorial. And the braclets

Ah, sneaky Liz appears

Oh yeah can he keep a secret

Liz begging Max to tell her she isn't loosing her mind. Fuuuck.

Not cool Michael. Great control, but not cool.

Racist Hank, you douche bag

And Maria introduced as taking no shit from ANYONE.

Iz and her slideshow. I love that line.

Why is Iz so vehement that Michael would be so upset about telling Liz?

Max loosing it and Iz looking quite surprised. Forshadowing

yes, Iz no like about it. He is in love with her.

Ah Iz, Iz, Iz. "Too many secrets, things she can't ever know" you don't know the half of it.

Fall in love with someone else.  - If I could have, I would have. Fuck, Max, I feel you on that one.

Jesus, how do all these guys make dark flannel look so hot?

Dance it out. i don't dance in this town anymore, Kyle...

Hot take, I know everyone is mad for Trevino's cheekbones, but honestly, they aren't my thing. But his eyes, gods, his eyes. He has the best eyes on the show. God that make me sound like a freak.

"whatever" with that tiny, tiny almost invisible smirk. Yeah, you think you're all that

He manages that whole distraction use me, use me speech without coming off as a total wanker. And that is pretty amazing.

The station promo/ad on my cable channel has a bit for Roswell - tag line: "Beam me up hotties." Too right.

Scientist Liz!!

Needs answers now.

Fuck you Jesse Manes

I hate you already.

No Kyle, don't do it. But thank fuck he doesn't just start talking,

Yeah, nah Max. That's not how it works. It's not ok if people are nice to you but shitty to everyone else.

Why should Michael like the world? it's been pretty shitty to him!?!

Liz with the serial killer joke, just with the wrong person!!

The pods are sorta cool.

They could've been so chessy.

Now we know why the three of them are so close. And just about the only real bit of exposition on the show.

But will you Liz? Will you keep the promise?

Secret Bunker No 1

"This matters to you, so I'm here". :heart:

Do what Michael, what could you possibly mean?

"Just like you did 10 yrs ago".......

What are you max? Just a guy from Roswell

In Max's favour, when he says he stayed in Roswell, and didn't follow Liz because of Iz and Michael, he doesn't sound resentful, which is sort of what you'd expect here. I like that.And Max going to the reunion for Iz. And Liz tagging along even though she's expecting a bad reception.

"i don't save people all the time. I never save people" But you saved Liz, And why is that Max?

OT re Trevino's eyes. It was that gif set of him laying on his stomach  on his bed (?) with his doggo, looking up to the camera. That angle, OMG, his eyes....

And no verbal confirmation, just Liz realising exactly what Max said - that even though he's in a job where he'd be in contact with sick/dying people alot, he's never saved anyone before. Omph

Of course you remember the very first time you met, Max.

Little kid Max is sooo cute.

Ah you big sap, Max.

No kissing. An "Echo" of what he feels for Liz.

Nice choice of words there writers.

We see what you did there.

So far it's taken me 2 hrs to watch 50 mins

Fuck you again Jesse Manes

Swoon Kyle's eyes.

And we have Kyle's first exposure to the fact that the govt knows about aliens and did medical type stuff to them.  Does this hover in the back of his mind from now on? is this the reason for the quick reaction to his fathers actions at Caufield.?

No he's fucking not cooking meth. Seriously, Alex, what the fuck?

Sorry Alex, not cool, not cool AT all.

I want to see the outakes of Tyler saying phenyl-2-propanone

Because I'm a bitch like that

Yeah, that so serious up close and personal for straight people....

And there is Alex's nastiest line - You're wasting your life. Gods, that is such a shit thing to say to Michael.

And re outtakes because Tyler would laugh and do that thing where he covers his mouth as he trys to stop himself giggling. That's soooo cute.

But anyway, back to the show...

Oh, he wants to hold something, Michael but it's not your hand...

Macho cowboy swagger.

Did it get old for you.

No it did not get fucking old for him. At all.

Michael walking away with arm around girl. Noting for those who say they didn't realise Michael was bi after watching the pilot. How?

How could you miss it?

You go Maria - dying alone of syphillis to bitch

Maybe Liz does still dance in Roswell!! She just needs a good reason.

And that song begins.

"You can't hide from who you are". Alex's prothesis as he looks at himeself skating in the slide show. Fucking killing us.

And it only gets worse-

I don't thnk that's an unpopular opinon at all. That's totally where I see his headspace. But that does result in him saying some nasty shit to Michael. And it's because we know it's not true that it hurts so much.

Fair warning it may take me half an hour to get through the next 2 mins of show!!

Long shot - "Nostalgia's a bitch"

Fuck, the way Michael looks at Alex as he's leaning against the door. People have started wars to have someone look at them like that. That's Greek epic shit right there.

Then cut shot to Max and Iz looking at Liz.

Alex expecting Michael to be gone from Roswell.

"Is that what you want" as Michael takes a step closer. Not "wanted", but "want".

"What I want doesn't matter" as they both slowly sway towards each other. Bullshit, Alex. What you want is ALL that matters. Fuck everything else.

Michael's eyes flicking up to Alex's face....

And Michael launches himself at Alex like a dying man.

God, how do you even describe that kiss?? Everything about it is just.......

But it's more than just the fire. Its the tenderness of Michael gently craddling Alexs' head even though the kiss is passionate and desperate.

Battery break

And then, back to reality - Iz knows that Max has told Liz.

And then Jess Fucking Manes (I fututus et mori in ignie cunne) (don't look that up it's very bad swearing) talking about being monsters who despise compassion and love. Projecting much.

"Thrive on our tragedy". Die MF Die

Despise Love over a visual of Michael and Alex. Die some more you MF

But you haven't told Liz everything have you Max. There's still some stuff you're hiding.

"When the truth hunts you down"

Yeah, that truth is going to hunt you down and fuck you up Max

My house just wobbled.

No, there isn't a secret that is safe.

And people will be caught in the crossfire - have already.

"What's lost will be found, when the truth hunts you down."

Well doesn't that one line sum up a ton of shit that goes down in the rest of the season.

And fin

3 hrs

That was not what I planned.

#roswell new mexico #Roswell Nm #roswellnm #liveblog

[aqualianbird]

So, I am having a relatively stressful episode at work, I have enough alcohol in my blood to make me feel chatty, and there isn’t nearly as much Saint Seiya talk on my dash as I’d need so here it goes :

Let’s talk about ... well, Seiya

It’s dificult for me to comprehend exactly how many fans of Pegasus Seiya there are around. Often it seems like he is the most hated and the most loved character in the fandom simultaneously. No, seriously, I don’t think even characters that were designed to be hated like Tatsumi or Kasa got as much (and for the latter even Shun said the dude was going way too far)

For my part I plead guilty to the first one; my sympathy for the Pegasus knight only lasted a dozen of episodes. I often joked to my sister how the reason I never watched the anime a second time (despite a habbit of feeding on re-runs of favourite shows instead of new ones) was entirely because I couldn’t stand the idea of watching so many frames of Seiya again.

Nevertheless, I always made it a point never to completely exclude completely him for any headcanoning or writing I made around the universe, especially if it touched Athena and the 5 main bronzes - few are the sound reasons to exclude him from the universe that was nammed after him.

I never say much or write much about him because, despite my irritation with the character, I never wanted to reduce him to being The Clown, or make him the bottom of all sorts of jokes.I may be wierd but even if he is a fictional character I wasn’t going to treat him unfairly ... In general we could say I could never picture him in a way that would make him more appealing to my eyes, as a writer or a fan.

So here in this saturday midnight let me first speak ill of Seiya, and then speak way less ill of him (and if you survive to the end you will find out it really is related to my work, that’s what got me thinking)

The many facettes of Pegasus Seiya and how they made me grow as a writer

(Since this is getting long I figured it needed a title)

If I want to speak ill of Seiya first it is because I am a big fan of riddles. In general I just like to understand the logical connections between everything (you have no idea how satisfied I was the day I found out the anime colours of the gold saints’ hair were chosen to contrast with the overwhelming yellows of their armours. Really it’s just like watching those videos were everything fits perfectly into everything). And I think I did figure out why the “Seiya hate”.

Furthermore, with the exemple of Seiya I started understanding many advice given to beginers about character-building and protagonists. I also hope this first part will illustrate how I always tried to “see the good” in Seiya.

I always thought he was a admirable character - in theory. I believe this is a shared feeling, nobody would dare say Seiya is a poor character absolutely useless to the dynamics of the series.  

(Ok I’m idealising a little. but the least one could say is that the content he generates is usually quite neutral)

Everything he does is heoric : he never gives up, he leads, he defeats enemies 300x bigger than himself, he helps those in need ... Seiya is really good, almost perfect in everyway except for his mischievious side, and worthy of all the praise he gets within the universe - in theory.

But oh god how annoying he was in practice

I wonder how many people reading this have never rolled their eyes during one of those typical “Seiya comes to save the day” moments.

So why ? Why is he annoying so many people ? Or, at least, why is he not inspiring as much as other characters of this series do ? I think I found the solution to that riddle (and I know it to be true for at least me and my sibilings)

Personally, I can easily name the moments Seiya irritated me the most. Disrigarding this one scene in a filler where Seiya makes a sexsit comment, it was in the scenes where he appeared at the last moment to save the day and everybody was cheerfully calling him name. Or how he was always the only one to be able to defeat the “big bosses”. All these scenes irritated me in how they were written to make him look as the big hero and protagonist of the show.

Which, you know. He actually is.

The story relates his steps - check

Does heroic stuff : self-sacrifice, never gives up even if the situations look desperate - check

Is indispensable to the plot : he defeats the big bosses, so yes - check

So why ?

Tying to put more words on this, the following sentence formed into my mind : “It is faked protagonism”.

With hindsight I am affraid Seiya’s character suffered a lot from the fillers of the anime in the same way Saori’s roles in fillers left the wrong impression of “damselle in distress” and Shun as “the crybaby always needing his brother to save him”. The fillers repeated ad nauseum the same formula : “enemy attacks - the bronzes go to fight them - Seiya gets hit on the head a lot - Let’s make him hit on the head three times more to show it has nothing to do with the last enemy they fought - He still miraculously avoids head trauma and defeats everyone and is the only one getting carried in triumph”. As a result, his heroic trait was completely banalizing and we were left us thinking “Does he ever do anything new ?”

Talking to my sibilings and seeing the trends on Tumblr the past years, I believe this feeling has been refrazed a lot as “We want to see x characters instead of Seiya”.

This is the point in this analysis where the wannabe writer in me starts putting her two cents. How come even minor characters seem to be more appealing than Seiya ?

I always did get what kind of traits Kuru wanted to give him. In theory. But in practice, they never seem to manage getting past the screen. Leaving out the glamour the Gold Saints’ name offer, if we compare Seiya to the other Bronzes, even taking only manga canon events one could say he suddenly appears quite pale as a character.

For instance, in the course of the series, Shyiru begins undergoing major character developpment from day one; he who had great pride looses his battle against Seiya.

In the later arcs, he sacrifices his eyesight to save his friends in this beautiful scene, which ensues in another character developpment moment where he learns to fight blind, goes to the big 12 temples battle blind. He is the first to kill a Gold Saint -actually he is the only one to have killed 2 gold saints in this battle- and we are very often reminded he is sacrificing a happy life with Shunrei everytime he goes on mission to save the world.

In a similar way, it is easy to be reminded how Ikki is battling his past everyday, how Hyoga is struggling to build a future everyday, and we could all appreciate Shun’s amazing strength in for instance the battle against Pisces or the beautiful scene of his sacrifice in Hades

Next to this, Seiya just seems to be “beaten around”, an idiot who tags along without bringing much into the group aprat from yelling “Saorii-saaaaaan” untill the osts dry up causing him to rise up and defeat the big boss on the cue of pegasus fantasy. And yet, he still receives all the glory in the narative and is at the center of attention.

The general impression me and my sibilings got was “He is the protagonist just because the series is named after him.” The naration and the fillers seem to have built a house of cards around his punch, which is definitively what irritated me and my sibilings and I am theoretising most of the fandom as well.

Now in his defence, his comedic trait and good contact with people does not have much room in end-of-the-world battles against gods that only address to humans talking down to them, and as mentioned the fillers did not do him any favours. The plot of his lost sister is quite forgotten after the first arc, and unlike other characters it does not seems like he picks up any other defining traits during the course of the series. (Personally, the ultimate strie that just made me loose all patience is the shipping with Saori that Toei has going on)

Which is where I realised : this is probably what everybody means when talking of “insuficient of character developpment”

We often see the words “character develeppment” in critiques or writing tips. Everybody stresses how important for your story it is. But it is only recently, paired with the exemple of Seiya that I have truly realised what this means.

I read somewhere that “If your protagonist becomes perfect, if he is not longer evolving, then he stops being a protagonist”. I think with Seiya I could sense the results of keeping a protagonist that is not longer evolving in the story.

One could also argue he is not sacrificing as much as the others. Like sure, he is ready to sacrifice his life every time, but it also never seems that his life is in any real danger - he only ever ends up in the hospital after the big guy is defeated. He never seems to suffer any consquences of his injuries during the battles - has the narative ever implied he could not throw his punches as well as usual because of his injuries ? He mostly attacks, falls down, can’t move for a few minutes and then gets up again. It is more a narrative of “If you don’t succeed, try harder and harder untill you do”.

Which helped me put in practice another writing advice : do not let your main characters excape the consequences of their actions.

It does not mean everything has to be realistic (of course they can loose way more blood that humanly possible and still survive because it visually increases the dramatic effect). I come to realise it means that if you give too much free passes, the stakes will not feel as high, and your plots will bear much less tension than they potentially could.

Going back to Seiya as much as his actions are heroic in theory, they do not feel heroic to most people watching it probably because his "never giving up and keep punching” attitude does not have consequences. They have as much effect as him getting out the trash : it sure is unpleasant, it smells baad, the trash starts leaking, it’s disgusting, you hears noises inside the trash disposal and nobody wants to know what would thrive in this smelly and juicy environement, but in the end it will be over in a second. You just throw away the bag, maybe you got a bit of trash juice on your shoes but it will easily be washed away by water.

Taking the same problem from a different angle offers the opportunity to look into giving traits to your character :

We can all agree that “never give up and keep punching” was intended to be Seiya’s main trait of character. It seems, however, it did not result to be as memorable or as inspiring as planned. Which reminded me of this other piece of advice :

“If you give your character a trait you consider his most defining characteristic, but never challenge it at any point, this trait is going to have as much effect as a mole on their cheek” - it is now loud and clear to me.

With the exemple of Seiya, I would add variety in the challenges is important, because repetition decreses tension, and less tention also means less investment in one’s story (or the story involving one particular character).

And if repeated to much, it becomes annoyance towards one’s character.

Calling myself out - Time to work on liking Seiya

Now this has gotten so much longer and personal than I ever expected, but after speaking so bad of Seiya I really do not want to leave out the part where I speak good of him. Especially when it involves my favourite kind of riddles with Saint Seiya characters : fill the gaps.

As mentioned before, it was always quite clear what traits Kurumada wanted to give the Pegasus Saint. Let’s start with the most obvious ones:

Mischievious side, implying as well that :

Has a sense of humour

Quite good with people or at least with kids

Rebel/independent side (flashback of Saori ridding Jabu, the begining of the anime)

Never gives up

Is a good leader / is capable of bringing people toghether / of rallying people to his cause

The last ones on the list are quite easy to forget about him, because of the “lack of challenge” discussed earlier (nobody would have ever forgotten about his leader skills if let’s say he had prevented Hyoga from turing over completely to Poseidon to stay with Isaak). In that spirit, I recently came across an idea that would make those two traits more “challenging” and give a more human dimention to his character.

Now the fact he was since always a bit of a rebel has an influence on his leader capacities, as being an independent mind he stands out and will not depend much external factors to go in a direction. But this alone does not make such an unchallenged leader as Seiya.

Now this is where my current employment helped this reflexion :  I work customer service, more precisely a position involving processing and solving issues.

The very first advice I was given during training was “Always sound confident. Even if you understand jack about what the customer is talking about, just sound confident. Make believe that you know your shit even if you are just about to google a crash course on the subject. Because if they even think for a second that you don’t know they will eat you“.

And let me tell you how accurate this advice is. I became the favourite of this Italian lady who always had problems with her printer because I read to her in a very confident voice an article I was reading on the spot after punching out her question in google.

It is not easy, and it really pumps your adrenaline, but it is true : if you sound confident people are going to follow your lead and believe in what you say. Even if you yourself have absolutely no idea what you are talking about.

Now today, I was thinking how this could be the secret behind “The Miracle of Seiya”; maybe this is why Seiya is very good at being a leader, and even more, why he is very good at being a leader in the apocalypse fighter army of Athena.

He reassures everybody and gives them hope by making them believe he has 100% confidence in a given situation and that everything is under control, much like I became a printer and Wifi expert in the eyes of that Italian lady even though I actually dread those motherfuckers.

That would totally explain this bit at the Cancer temple too, this scene we all make a little fun of, where is is all “Don’t say that Shiryu ! We must think that we have still 9 hours to save Saori !” and moments later he seems to be ignoring his own advice saying “that’s not a lot” (Could be also something lost in translation tho)

And with this sort of influence on other people, he finally becomes a crucial character to the story, as he becomes the glue to the team without which it is possible the other bronzes would not have been as solid of a team, maybe even disbanding as the challenges they faced seemed often hopeless.

And with that I think I am ready to write something involving Seiya someday ...

#fair warning : #this blog is in serious danger of becoming a compilation of the owner's monologues #hello procrastination my old friend #seriouly tho these other fandoms seem to have such interesting or funny meta discussions #oh well

[tenroseforeverandever]

Dear Father Christmas… Chapter 23: December 24, 2038

MASTERPOST

Characters:  Tentoo; Rose Tyler; Jackie Tyler; Pete Tyler; Tony Tyler; OC Hope Tyler-Noble; OC Charlotte Tyler-Noble; OC Wilfred Tyler-Noble; OC Therin Thomson; Javic Thane; Gray Thane; OC Tianza; the TARDIS; OC Abby Tyler-Milne;

Rated: Teen

Tags: Family!Fic; Kid!Fic; Pete’s World; Letters to Santa; Christmas Fic; Family; Fluff; Hurt/Comfort; Angst; Romance; Love; gun violence; violence resulting in death; life-threatening injury; life threatening situations; life threatening illness; original characters

Summary: When Rose Tyler was little, she always wrote a Christmas wish list to Father Christmas. As she grew older, the wish list became more of a letter to someone she could confide in once a year, but she fell out of the habit somewhere along the way. Now, as a new mum, celebrating her daughter’s first Christmas, Rose takes up writing her Christmas letter to Father Christmas once again.

Rose’s Christmas letters are excerpts from her life with her beloved Tentoo and their children in Pete’s World, written once a year, for each of 31 years.

Chapter Summary: Jackie decides to make Ugly Christmas Jumpers for everyone in the family.

Notes: Wow! Another chapter that got away from me! LOL And boy, did this one put up a fight.

To my betas, @rose–nebula and mrsbertucci: once again, this chapter would not be what it is without you. You gave me inspiration (which I still feel guilty about!) and we had many, many discussions about lots of things to get me through this, including a particularly hilarious discussion about aliens (I’m dying laughing just thinking about it now… I don’t know why I find it so funny, I just do!) Just thank-you, both, for always being there when I need you, and putting up with my whinging. I love you both!

Thanks to @doctorroseprompts for their 31 Days of Ficmas prompts. The prompt I used today was Santa and/or Elves.

I know it’s the middle of April, but since the weather outside (here in Ontario) is still frightful, I don’t feel too guilty about posting part of my Christmas story. I have eight more chapters to go for the full 31 Days of Ficmas. I’m not sure if I will post any more through the year, or just write them and post them at Christmastime in December. I’ll see how it goes… ;D

Also read at: AO3; FF.net; Teaspoon

December 24th, 2038

Dear Father Christmas,

My mum never does anything by halves. When Jackie Tyler sets her mind on something, she doesn’t hold back. She gets stuck right in; she takes the bull by the horns and beats it into submission. God help anyone or anything standing in her way. Just ask the Doctor…

(On second thought, best not. He might not take it too well, especially not after… well, you’ll see.)

Anyroad, ever since we welcomed my little niece, Abby, into our lives last autumn, Mum’s been on a knitting rampage. She taught herself. She started out with little things like baby mitts and booties, but quickly progressed to sweet little cardigans and jumpers. And she’s gotten really good! My very favourite one was an adorable navy-blue jumper with the words “I LOVE MY DADDIES!” emblazoned across the front in big, pink letters. Tony and Noah (the proud Daddies in question) loved it too, and dressed little Abby in it all the time, until summer came along, and they were forced to admit it was too hot for her to wear it anymore!

This year, sometime around August, Mum’s knitting took a rather… erm… dangerous turn. Stand aside, Molly Weasley: Jackie Tyler announced she was intending to knit jumpers for all of the Tyler clan, and their significant others, this Christmas.

And not just any jumpers: Ugly Christmas Jumpers. 

She only told me and Dad, not wanting to spoil the “surprise” for everyone else. Honestly, we just had to grit our teeth and tell her what a “great idea” it was. It wasn’t like it would’ve made any difference if we’d told her how we really felt. Besides, this way we were likely avoiding the pain of a good hard smack, and months of her patented Jackie Tyler silent-not-silent treatment.

Anyway, it wasn’t like she’d told us about it because she was actually seeking our approval. No, we were to be models, though I rather think guinea-pigs would be a more apt description. Honestly, as Christmas approached, I was seriously beginning to think it would have been better to shut the entire Ugly Jumper Project down in its early stages and endure whatever punishment Mum might have dished out, but at that point, we were in too deep to turn back.

The worst part of the whole process was Mum constantly calling me throughout the autumn to come over to the mansion to try something on, or to bring over jumpers the kids had left behind when they came to visit, so she could compare the sizing with what she was knitting. To be honest it got to be a bit tedious very quickly, but I could hardly say no to her when she was throwing her heart into it. Besides, this way I was able to keep an eye out and nix any design I thought wouldn’t go down very well with the intended recipient.

But, the jumpers were, for the most part, not too bad. They were beautifully designed and made. I was honestly quite impressed. Most of them either featured a cute character like a snowman or penguin or something like that, or they were the traditional Fair Isle design, with rows of little repeating Christmas characters and symbols in garish colours. Regardless of the pattern, all of them had some sort of saying on them, like Joy to the World, ‘Tis the Season, or Let It Snow.

“Soooo, which one is mine,” I asked.

“Never you mind, little madam. For your information, I ‘aven’ started it yet. And even if I ‘ad… as if I would spoil the surprise.”

I suddenly had a horrible thought. Cold dread washed over me. “Erm… what about the Doctor’s…?” Ever since he had revamped her dishwasher to sing Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer seven or eight Christmases ago, Mum had been out for revenge. Not that she would admit it. From the look she gave me, you’d think butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, but I knew better.

“Oh, I’m tryin’ to come up with jus’ the right pattern for ‘im. I’ve a couple in mind.”

“Muuuuum, don’t do anything rash, yeah?”

“Oh, honestly Rose, don’t be such a stick-in-the-mud. I’m jus’ tryin’ to create a little Christmas cheer.”

“Oi! I’m the one stuck in the middle of you and the Doctor and your flippin’ Christmas cheer. Me and Dad!”

She ignored me, of course, and did a complete about-face on the topic. “Oh, speakin’ of your Dad… I got his jumper finished. What d’ya think?” She held up a dark green jumper, with a comical Santa body on it. The pattern stopped at the collar, so Dad’s head would be taking the place of Santa’s head (your head, Santa!) The words Ho Ho Ho were knitted in bold yellow letters below Santa’s feet. “I’ll get ‘im to wear a Father Christmas ‘at and all!”

I had to laugh. “Good luck with that!”

“’E’ll do it if ‘e knows w’at’s good for ‘im!”

“That’ll make for more of your Christmas cheer, then…”

“Oh, don’t ya worry; I’ll make it worth ‘is while.”  She winked at me. “There’ll be plenty of Christmas cheer and bells a jinglin’ around ‘ere.”

“Mum! TMI!”

“Since when ‘ave you been such a prude? I mean, jus’ look at the way you and ‘imself carry on.”

“Yeah, but there are certain things I really, really do not need to know. And that, right there: that tops the list! Look, I gotta run. Dad’s asked me to give a presentation this afternoon.”

“Oh, well, I suppose… Oh, Rose, wait a mo’. I meant to ask: Charlie, is she seein’ someone regular these days? Will she be bringin’ a date for Christmas Eve? I’ll need to make ‘im or ‘er a jumper too, yeah, whoever they are.”

“I dunno, Mum. I never know with that one these days. I worry… a lot.”

“She’ll be all right, sweetheart. It’s jus’ a phase. ‘Sides, she’s nearly twenty years old. I don’t need to remind ya w’at you were up to at ‘er age… gallivantin’ around with that bleedin’ alien. Not that you cared a fig about my worries!”

“Mum…”

“She’s jus’ like you in so many ways, so bloody-minded.”

“That isn’t helping, Mum! I jus’ hope you’re right… about it being a phase. Anyway, I’ll let you know as soon as I hear anything definite about her bringing a date.”

“An’ in the meantime, I’ll knit an extra generic sort of jumper, jus’ in case.” Mum must have noticed I was about to protest, because she cut me off before I’d even had a chance to open my mouth. “Nah, don’t worry; Lor’ knows, it’s no trouble. After all, Therin might still decide to bring someone, too, and I’ll need one for ‘er. Best to be prepared.”

“All right. Suit yourself. See ya soon. Love ya.” I kissed her on the cheek and headed out the door, the problem of Charlie weighing heavily on my mind.

--ooOoo--

That night as I was standing at the stove making supper, the Doctor came up and wrapped his arms around me from behind. He gave me a lovely kiss behind the ear. It was just what I’d needed. I’d been wound up all day.

“Penny for ‘em? You’ve been doing (might I say) a piss poor job of shielding your emotions.”

“That obvious, was it?”

“Yup.” He squeezed me tighter and gave me another tender little kiss. Even without our telepathic bond, I expect he would have figured out something was wrong. And I really had been sloppy about keeping my worry contained. To be honest, I’d been hoping he’d notice. “You could have just told me if something was bothering you.”

I leaned my head back against his shoulder, giving the sauce another stir. “I know. You’ve just been so stressed lately.”

The Doctor had been called in to help with seventeen frightened and violent Trumhurgi whose ship had crashed in Torquay. They were badly injured, and the Doctor was the only one who had any decent knowledge about their unusual physiology. It had been two months of providing medical care for them, sometimes round-the-clock for several days running. He’d been training Torchwood physicians and nurses as well, but it all took time. In addition, he’d been consulting about repairs on the Trumhurgi ship, and travelling back and forth in the TARDIS, obtaining spare parts and contacting worried family members, carrying their messages and even bringing them back to Earth to visit their recuperating relatives.

I’d been working on the case too, but I was helping out the traumatized humans who’d been caught up in the original crash and the violent, defensive outburst that had followed. Shots had been fired and, by some stroke of luck, there had been no deaths, but it had been a close call. Fortunately, I had a huge, experienced team at my command, so my end of the job had been a lot easier than the Doctor’s.

“I’m all right, love,” the Doctor assured me, as we dished up our supper and sat down at the table. It was the first time in weeks we’d actually been able to eat together. “Besides, by end of this week the last of the Trumhurgi go home in their very own, working-better-than-ever ship! Let’s have tonight be about us.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. Now spill. What’s got you so upset?”

“It’s Charlie. I’m worried. I didn’t tell you about it because… well, the Trumhurgi… but Javic dropped by shortly after all that happened… with news.” The Doctor’s eyes darkened, and his lips tightened reflexively, but he waited for me to continue. “It seems Charlie has been taking a page out of Javic’s book, recently. She’s been, erm… let’s just say ‘embracing her sexuality’… a lot!”

“And he knows this how?”

“Well he ran into her at one of his favourite… spots.”

I sensed the Doctor’s anger flare, white hot. “He didn’t touch−”

“God, no! In fact, he’s sort of taken her under his wing, so to speak. Made sure she’s stayed away from all the dangerous places.”

The Doctor growled. He looked like he was fighting really hard to keep his emotions in check. His eyes flashed at me. It had been a long time since I’d been a target for the Oncoming Storm. It was properly frightening (and more than a bit thrilling!) “And you… you never thought to tell me? This? About our daughter?”

“You were so busy. And it’s not like−”

He launched himself out of his chair with a roar. “You kept this from me?”

Reflexively, I shrank back into my seat, like some timid little creature. “I’m sorry.”

He began to pace, tugging at his hair. Each time he passed me, he opened his mouth, but the words wouldn’t come out. His mental shields were locked in place and impenetrable.

After five long minutes, I decided enough was enough. It wasn’t my habit to let him intimidate me and I wasn’t about to chicken out now; history told me, it was far better to confront him, not let him get away with his bullying behaviour. “Doctor, stop! Enough. Sit down so we can talk.”

“Oh, so now you want to talk to me!”

“That’s was the point of having this conversation, yeah? Sit!”

He did as I asked, shoving his plate away from him, across the table. I grabbed onto his hand before he could move it, pouring my love through our bond. I was gratified when his shields began to give; it was only a little, but it was a beginning.

“Any other information you want to impart?” he bit out.

“Well… apparently she has one of Wilfred’s Vortex Manipulators, so… erm… she’s dancing through time and space.”

“Bloody hell!” He moved to stand again, but I held firm to his hand. He glared daggers at me. “Let go! We have to−”

“Have to what, Doctor? What do you propose we do? You’re not going to go storming in there like the Great Exterminator!”

“Try me!”

“This is Charlie… intimidation has never worked on that kid, and it’s not about to this time, either. We need to be rational and calm and supportive.”

“Supportive! But she’s−”

“I know. And Javic has been keeping an eye on her. He’s making sure she checks in with him, and he assures me she’s doing… fine.”

“Somehow, I don’t imagine Javic’s definition of ‘fine’ is quite the same as ours.”

I had to admit (but only to myself) I’d been thinking much the same way, though I knew Javic: he’d go to the ends of creation to protect any of us. “Hope’s been keeping in touch with her too,” I offered, hoping to appease the Doctor.

“Well that, that is a bloody recipe for disaster!” His anger flared.

Again, I had to agree with him, Santa. For all that she means well, Hope tends to get a bit bossy with her younger siblings. She’s mellowed over the years, but still… My arguments were crumbling around me. “You’re right. Let’s go!”

“What?”

“Let’s go… TARDIS. You. Me. Chat with our daughter.”

“But I thought you said...?”

“Changed my mind.”

--ooOoo--

Charlie, it turns out, was not thrilled to see us. I hadn’t been expecting a joyous family reunion or anything, but I think it would have gone a lot better if the Doctor hadn’t barged up to the bar where she was cheerfully chatting up some green-skinned bloke, waving his psychic paper around like some crazed maniac and bellowing to said bloke that Charlie was under-aged (an outright lie… on that planet) and if he didn’t want to find himself in a whole heap of trouble he’d better scram. He’d then grabbed Charlie by the arm and hauled her out of the building and into the TARDIS.

To say Charlie was furious was the understatement of the year! She was ranting on about how it was bad enough her “puritanical” sister was on her case, but the fact that we were now interfering in her life as well incensed her to no end.  She only finally calmed after I ordered the Doctor out of the TARDIS. I would deal with him later.

In the end, there was very little I could actually do other than let Charlie know we’d both be there for her if she ever needed us. She assured me she was fine: having fun; being careful; and not doing anything too wild (and “bloody hell, Mum, I can’t believe I’m even having this conversation with you… it’s just wrong…”.) I tried to understand, but I just couldn’t put myself in that mindset, and I told her as much.

“It’s just such a relief to be able to have fun and feel good without any obligations. I have so many obligations, Mum. School, Hand in Hand, work... This makes me feel, well free.”

Oh, Santa, it was then I realized how much that little girl (young woman) had taken on in her young life.

She must have seen the look of horror on my face. She grabbed my hand, and our familial bond snapped into place. She read me like an open book. “Mum, don’t you dare feel guilty. You never, ever pressured me, any of us, to do anything we didn’t want. You encouraged us in the best way possible, you… and Dad.” She chuckled and rolled her eyes at the mention of her father.  “This is just my way of letting go a bit, taking time for me. Can you understand that?”

“Course I can, love. I worry, that’s all. Promise me you’ll keep in touch, yeah?”

“Yeah…”

“And listen to Javic.”

“Muuuuum! I know!”

“Now, since we spoiled your evening with that young man, how about we take you out to supper, yeah?”

“That sounds great! And don’t worry too much about my evening. He was a bit of a tosser, anyway. I was just about to walk out when Dad came barging in like some daft Onidsessi on pep pills. Urrrgh,” she groaned, “promise you’ll never let Dad near pep pills. Can you imagine…?”

“Oh, god, your Dad… he’s out there… Not on pep pills, but you know as well as me, he’s quite capable of stirring up all kinds of trouble without them if he gets a bit bored.”

Thankfully the Doctor hadn’t been stirring up trouble. We found him, pacing back and forth in front of the TARDIS doors. Charlie skipped right over to him, stopping him in his tracks and planting a kiss on his cheek. I couldn’t help but smile. We might all drive one another completely mental sometimes, but there was no lack of love in our little family, and this incident had assured me our children always knew we would be a safe haven for them whenever they needed it.

With all our emotions running high, I never remembered to ask Charlie if she was bringing home a friend at Christmas, so Mum could plan an appropriate jumper. At this point, though, I didn’t imagine there would be anyone special, given that she seemed to be determined to stay away from serious relationships for the time being.

I couldn’t have been more wrong…

Santa, I need to run. We’re all at Mum’s tonight, and the jumpers have finally been unveiled. There were a few… complications. And I’m running interference! I’ll try to explain later.

Blimey! There goes the Doctor, now, and he looks far too happy for anyone’s good, especially considering…  Look, Santa, I gotta go! I’ll finish this letter up later.

--ooOoo--

Santa, I’m back, but I’m not sure where the hell I’m going to begin. A lot of stuff went down tonight. A lot of stuff.

Mum was just itching to hand out her Ugly Jumper parcels to everyone; I couldn’t get her to sit still, she was so excited. We were still waiting for Charlie to arrive and for Tony, Noah, and Abby, too. The Doctor had gone to collect Charlie in the TARDIS. Mum was bouncing off the walls.

Thank goodness my brother and his family decided to show up just after the Doctor left. Entertaining Abby was keeping Mum rather brilliantly distracted, and it meant I didn’t need to entertain Mum. As it turned out, it was just as well Mum was preoccupied, because it gave her time to ease into meeting Charlie’s plus-one which turned out to be a bit of a shock for her, just not for the immediately obvious reason…

The lovely, familiar sound of the TARDIS filled the room about fifteen minutes after Tony arrived. She landed in her customary corner of Mum’s living room, wearing her traditional Blue Box disguise, but topped with festive snow and icicles, and a colourful wreath on her door. The door opened, and the Doctor stepped out, meeting my gaze with raised eyebrows and a little prickle of warning through our bond. He was being very guarded, not sharing any specific thoughts or images, and that made me distinctly uneasy.

Charlie followed him and was tugging behind her what could only be her date for the evening. The creature seemed to unfold itself from the TARDIS. It was very tall and rail thin. Charlie was holding onto one of its appendages, a hand of sorts, at the end of one of its four upper limbs, formed from an assortment of tentacle-like structures. “C’mon Hrau-Ard,” Charlie coaxed. “You’re gonna love my family! Hell, you and Dad are already like best mates!”

“Possibly a bit of an exaggeration seeing as we only met six minutes ago,” the Doctor countered, allowing Charlie and Hrau-Ard to step in front of him, “but he seems like a fine chap, I have to say.”

It took me a moment to get over my shock. Now, let me be clear, Santa, I have no trouble with interspecies relationships… I mean look at my darling husband, not exactly human for all he looks it. It’s just that Charlie, for all her sexual experimentation has never strayed far from standard humanoid partners before... at least according to Javic’s accounts. That’s why I needed to collect my thoughts before I moved forward to greet our new guest.

“Hello,” I smiled up into the creature’s majestic face. And majestic it was, by any standards… beautiful. Trust Charlie to pick a gorgeous date! A long muzzle, with an expressive mouth on the end, swooped up into a spectacular curved crest above it’s head. The crest had two main parts, a longer one below and a shorter part above. Its face morphed gradually from a rich teal colour at the muzzle to a deep indigo at the tips of the crests and was edged with many sensory tentacles and filaments. Two large purple eyes bulged above the snout, and several secondary eyes protruded from either side of the crests, set on stalks which were each adorned with several metallic rings. “I’m Rose Tyler, Charlie’s mum.” I held my hands out, spread open before me in the universal sign of peaceful greeting.

The creature bowed its head to me and dropping Charlie’s hand, held all four of it’s tentacle-tipped upper limbs out, mirroring me. Its fluting voice emanated from the crests. “Christmas greetings to you, Rose Tyler. My name is Hrau-Ard. It is lovely to meet you.”

“He’s male… mostly,” Charlie informed me, “so it’s okay to use ‘he’ and ‘him’.”

Hrau-Ard piped in, bowing his head to me again, “Those pronouns seem to be the most accurate.”

Before I could respond to Hrau-Ard, Charlie impatiently snagged the hand she’d been holding earlier and tugged him past me. “Well, come on in and meet the rest of the family!”

He hooted in surprise, his long tan-coloured tunic billowing and brushing me as he passed. It dropped halfway down his two legs and contrasted spectacularly with the blues and greens of his skin and had an opening in the back through which a pair of wing-like appendages extended. They were bright turquoise and filmy (too delicate to be proper wings) and vibrated as he moved.

I admit, I couldn’t suppress a chuckle at Mum’s incredulous expression as she met him. She passed Abby back to Noah, and looked Hrau-Ard up and down, offering him all the appropriate greetings. She had come a long way since her “bog-monster” days on the Estate and was extremely well-versed in alien diplomacy. After all, she’d welcomed plenty into her home over the years. But, despite all her training and experience, she was still my mum, and I nearly choked when she repeated his name back for clarification: “Howard? Your name is Howard?”

With a low whistle of approval and if the TARDIS was translating properly, amusement, Hrau-Ard inclined his head, his facial filaments bobbing with the movement. “I enjoy the way you say my name, Charlie’s Gran.”

“Oh, just call me Jackie, please. Howard! Of all the names!”

“Is this name of significance to you?”

Mum glanced nervously over to Pete, who was busy grilling Wilfred and Tianza about the medicinal properties of a Gallifreyan plant he was interested in using in a new Vitex drink.  “Oh, ‘e’s jus’ an old mate of mine.”

“Fine fellow! Liked fruit!” the Doctor enthused from the TARDIS door with a broad, toothy grin. “I borrowed his pyjamas and dressing gown once!”

“Well then,” Hrau-Ard bleeped, “I am honoured to be his namesake.”

“Oh, off the two of you go then.” Mum shooed Charlie and “Howard” off to meet Tony, Noah, and Abby. She fixed a glare at the Doctor, who had stepped up behind me. “See, there, Time Lump! A proper alien, tentacles and all! ‘E at least ‘as the decency to look the part.”

“So sorry to disappoint you with my lack of appendages, Jackie (after all, I live my life just to please you),” he snarked back at her. “Fortunately, as it turns out, there’s one Tyler who is rather fond of my one, rather impressive appendage, just the way it is.”

“All right, you two,” I cut off Mum before she had a chance to bite back, “it’s Christmastime, yeah? Peace on Earth. See, the halls are all decked,” I gestured around me, “merry and bright. Let’s try to enjoy ourselves.”

“Ooooh, I’d like to deck ‘is halls, all right…” Mum grumbled.

The Doctor leaned out around me to shoot another barb at Mum. “Is that your resting Grinch face, Jackie, or are you just happy to see me?”

Mum lunged at him, slapping-hand poised and ready. Fortunately for the Doctor, I was still in between the two of them. “Stop!”

“Cuddly as a cactus; charming as an eel… Mrs. Griii-inch” the Doctor sing-songed.

“STOP!” My shout silenced the room, everyone turning to stare at me.

“Oh, don’t mind them,” Charlie cooed at Hrau-Ard, “that’s sorta their normal behaviour.”

“Look what you two made me do,” I hissed at Mum and the Doctor. “Be civil! Honestly!” Fed up, I made to leave the two of them and go to the kitchen to pour myself a well-earned glass of wine, when Mum caught me by the sleeve.

“Blimey, Rose!” she whispered at me. “That Howard fella ‘as wings!”

“Yeah, well spotted! And tentacles!”

“No, no, no! The wings! ‘E’ll never fit into any of my jumpers! Never! And ‘e’s so bleedin’ skinny and all. (Blimey, ‘e makes the Doctor look like a sumo wrestler, ‘e does!) The jumper I made would be…”

“Mum, you don’t need to worry. He’ll understand, I’m sure.”

She burst into tears. “But I wanted everyone to ‘ave… and now ‘e’ll be without something from me… An’ it’s Christmas…”

The Doctor stepped up, concerned. He put a gentle hand on Mum’s shoulder. “What’s wrong? If it’s what I said, Jackie… you know I was just taking the mick.”

“No, no, no… nothin’ like that, ya plum.” She patted his cheek and gave him a watery smile. “I’m jus’ disappointed is all.” She excused herself and rushed off in the direction of the powder room.

“What was all that about?”

“Promise you won’t tell her I told you?”

“Oh, you know I can keep a secret, Rose! Besides, I know better than to cross Jackie Tyler by leaking sensitive information. C’mon, give.”

I explained to him about Mum’s dilemma, how she had knitted ugly Christmas jumpers for everyone (his face blanched, probably imagining what she might have created for him) and now because of Hrau-Ard’s unexpected physical attributes, none of the jumpers she had set aside would ever possibly fit.

“Well, I could help,” he suggested. “She’s probably not going to like it much, and I can’t say I’m much of a fan of it myself, but I have an idea that just might work… if she’s willing.”

--ooOoo--

Everyone was so busy with canapes and punch and cocktails they never noticed Mum and the Doctor bundling into the TARDIS and the TARDIS dematerializing. The TARDIS was proud to be showing off her new “Silent Mode”: there was only a little bit of a breeze to indicate she had ever been there. (My little darling.)

They had only been gone for about ten minutes before the TARDIS rematerialized and Mum burst through the doors, beaming and carrying a neatly wrapped parcel: Hrau-Ard’s gift. To my utter amazement, she turned back to stroke the TARDIS’ doorframe, planting a soft kiss on the blue wood. “Thank-you, sweetheart. You’re a wonder, you are.”

The TARDIS hummed in response, a wonderfully joyous sound, as Mum practically skipped over to the Christmas tree to tuck the present underneath.

The Doctor stepped up beside me, closing the TARDIS doors behind him. “They hit it off like a house on fire,” he told me, “the pair of them, thick as thieves. Turns out when your Mum was ill a few years ago, and I put her in stasis, the TARDIS kept her company in her mind; they became fast friends. Brilliant!” He grinned down at me, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me against him as we followed Mum to the tree. Then he paused, and I glanced up at him to ask why we had stopped. The grin melted from his face. “Although… I don’t much like the idea of the two of them plotting against me behind my back.”

I just laughed and put my head on his shoulder. “Blimey… you’re getting a bit paranoid! How long were you gone in your timestream?”

“Five and a half days, Rose. Five and a half days… with Jackie Tyler on my TARDIS! That’s enough to make anyone paranoid!”

I admit, Santa, I shamelessly started to laugh harder. “How did you ever survive?”

“After the first day, I learned pretty quick to keep my head down. I made myself scarce.”

“Oh, you’ll be all right.” I nudged him with my elbow. “They won’t plot against you…” (…much, I added silently.)

“I heard that!” He arched an irritable eyebrow at me. “Do you realize she’s got her own room, Rose? No, not room, suite! The TARDIS gave her an entire suite of rooms with her own telly and a little galley too!”

“Awww, that’s lovely.” I was warmed through that the TARDIS had welcomed Mum so enthusiastically. My darling husband, however, was another matter. “Don’t worry, Doctor, I’ll protect you from any plotting. C’mon, we better hurry. I don’t think Mum will be able to contain herself much longer.”

Mum was gathering everyone together, so she could hand out her creations, and getting a bit shirty at people who weren’t paying attention, so I dragged the Doctor over by the hand and found a comfortable seat for us.

Content that everyone was present and listening to her, Mum spoke: “I’ve decided to start a new Tyler-family tradition: Ugly Christmas Jumpers! Made by yours truly.” She preened and there was a round of groans from the family and a perplexed hoot from Hrau-Ard. “Oi! They’re not really ugly… that’s jus’ w’at they’re called, yeah. See I’m wearin’ one.” She stood up to show off the jumper she was wearing. It was made of soft, silvery yarn and she had sewn tinsel across the front to form the words “Don’t get your tinsel in a twist,” in cursive script. Of course, she also had tinsel tied around her up-do. She looked sparkly and lovely. My Mum… She’s been through so much in her life, experienced so many odd things, and taken it all in stride; things that would make most people go completely loopy. I love her so much. I was positively chuffed to see her so happy, handing out brightly coloured parcels to all our family.

Dad was the first one to get his present, and he was a real sport about it, donning both his new Santa jumper and the Santa hat Mum had included in his parcel. Everyone burst out laughing when he stood up and smoothed his jumper down over his tummy, and said: “Do you think this makes me look fat? Ho-ho-ho!”

“Oh, sit down, you!” Mum admonished, but I could tell she was pleased as punch.

After that there was great excitement as we all opened our packages. Abby’s jumper was the cutest little thing, with an adorable gingerbread man wearing a Santa hat on a bright, red background. There were miniature gingerbread men down the sleeves and a few white strategically-placed snowflakes. I figure it’ll be a new favourite piece of clothing for her doting daddies!

Javic’s jumper featured a grumpy Santa reading his list of children’s names. The words “I’m at the top of Santa’s naughty list,” were emblazoned underneath. He was ecstatic, claiming it couldn’t have been more perfect. My jumper was… well, glorious in it’s tackiness! And I loved it! Oh, Santa, it was TARDIS blue, and a string of knitted fairy lights trailed all over it. In the middle, the fairy lights formed the words “Merry and Bright” and were lit up with little LEDs. Mum had outdone herself.

Hrau-Ard seemed uncertain what to do with his package, but Charlie soon sorted him out, helping him unwrap the gift. He held the jumper up in front of him, looking around at everyone else trying theirs on. He peered at the design on the front, all of his eyes trained on the bright patterns, and gave a long low hoot.

“Well, are ya goin’ to put it on, then?” Charlie prompted. “Here, I’ll help ya!” Together, the two of them made short work of slipping off Hrau-Ard’s tan tunic and replacing it with the jumper.

Hrau-Ard stood up out of his chair to show his jumper off. It was long, like the undertunic he wore, dropping to mid-thigh, and had perfectly aligned spaces for all four of his upper limbs and his wings.

“The TARDIS helped Jackie with the proper design and style, so it was compatible with his cultural expectations and with his body configuration,” the Doctor murmured in my ear. “She even provided all the yarn, if you can believe that!”

I took a closer look at the jumper. It featured an green-clad elf body on a scarlet background. Like Dad’s jumper, Hrau-Ard’s head took the place of the elf’s head. The words underneath said: “Take an ‘elfie with me!” It was hilarious! We were all in stitches, especially Hrau-Ard, who particularly appreciated the pun in the wording, and was honking with joy, and pulling out his mobile to take ‘elfies with everyone.

I couldn’t help but notice Therin was the only one not laughing. He wasn’t even smiling. He sat on the other side of the room glowering at Charlie and Hrau-Ard and their easy familiarity. Clearly, he hadn’t gotten over Charlie. He still loved her, despite her obvious disinterest in him… at least as a romantic partner. My heart absolutely ached for him as he quietly trudged out of the room, wearing his Fair Isle T-rex jumper.

“I should go check on him,” I whispered to the Doctor.  

“Nah, he needs to work this out for himself, love. He can’t change what’s in his heart. He just needs time to come to terms with it.”

“I hate to see him so miserable though… I wish I could−”

“Oi!” Mum’s shriek of disapproval cut through my thoughts. “Where’s your jumper, then, Doctor?”

The Doctor shifted nervously next to me, and I felt his crushing fear in my mind. He picked at the wrapping paper on the package in his lap.  

“C’mon then, ya big baby! Open it up! I made it special, jus’ for you.”

“That… that’s what worries me,” he muttered under his breath.

“Here, I’ll help you,” I offered. Honestly, Santa, Mum was right. He was being a big baby about it. Coward every time. “Best get it over with, like ripping a plaster off.”

“I don’t like plasters, and I don’t like the sound of your mum saying, ‘special just for you’. That, right there, Rose, sends my entire brain into mauve status!”

“C’mon, how bad can it be?” Even as I said the words, I glanced over at Mum who was watching the Doctor with a piercing, self-satisfied eye, and I braced myself. “Never mind. Just get it over with, yeah.”

By this time, we had the attention of the whole room, and the Doctor in a less-than-convincing act of enthusiasm, tore away the wrapping paper in one fell swoop. He reached into the shredded paper and pulled out the jumper, holding it up gingerly. Santa, I nearly fell out of my chair laughing. I swear the tears were pouring down my face, and the Doctor was scowling at me.

I better explain. The torso and most of the arms of the jumper were mostly brown. Around the cuffs of the arms, and at certain places over the shoulders were knitted green leaves. Some of them also trailed over the torso and back. When we lifted the arms of the jumper, we found dangling from their undersides none other than beautifully crafted, little knit pears! Pears, Santa, which as I’m sure you know are the fruit the Doctor despises most in the universe… for reasons that have never been very clear to me.

The crowning glory was the gigantic bird sewn firmly to the left shoulder: a partridge.

Mum had given the Doctor a Partridge in a Pear Tree-themed jumper!

Strangely, the bird was not knitted but a small-scale but realistic model, complete with feathers… and that gave me pause for thought, and trust me when I say the thoughts were not optimistic for the Doctor…

“Well, w’at are you waitin’ for?” Mum barked. “Put it on, then?”

“What? You expect me to wear this travesty… this… this pitiable excuse for clothing? Nope. Nope. Nope. Not happening.”

“Oh, just put it on, Dad!” Hope cajoled from across the room. “We’re all wearing them.”

“Yours don’t have pears and a great bloody bird attached, do they?”

“The jumpers are splendid!” Hrau-Ard spoke up with an earnest honk. “This is the most comfortable piece of clothing I have ever owned. And it is humorous too. Doctor, you really should try yours.”

Mum just about melted on the spot at Hrau-Ard’s compliment. “Oh, Howard! You’re such a love. But, you’re just sayin’ that!”

“No, I am sincere, Jackie. It is perfect. I think I like Christmas. And Ugly Christmas Jumpers!”

“Well then, sweetheart, I’ll make you another for next year, yeah?

Howard… I mean Hrau-Ard hooted happily in response, and Mum turned her attention back to the Doctor, by which I mean, she glared daggers at him.

“Oh, all right,” the Doctor conceded, “…if it means I don’t have to listen to any more of your harping,” he added under his breath. He stalked off to the downstairs loo, crushing the jumper in his clenched fist.

“I better go help him out…” I made my excuses and rushed off after him.

I heard Wilfred snickering to Hope, Gray, and Tianza, as I passed them. “Ten quid says they’re off for a snog… or worse.”

Hope just laughed. “No deal, little brother! That’s a sure thing.”

“Oi!” (I’m sorry, I had to protest!) “Enough out of you lot!”

“C’mon, Mum, face it,” Charlie interjected, “you two are an embarrassment.”

“Yeah,” Wilfred agreed, “I’ve lost count of the number of times we’ve had to spring the two of you from prison for public indecency.”

“Oi, what’s this then?” Mum leaned in for more tidbits of information, and I cleared out of the room as fast as I could.

Exasperated, I knocked on the powder room door. “Doctor, it’s just me.”

He opened the door to let me in.

“Blimey, we’ll have to watch ourselves. That lot are making wagers on whether or not we shag in here, and they’re telling Mum all about our arrests…”

He groaned, sniffing in disdain. “Bloody brilliant! Christmas, an annual excuse for almost completely unfounded gossip and rumour.”

“Exactly!”

“And then there’s this…” He held up the jumper. “I don’t know why I have to put on this preposterous get-up?”

“Because as I recall, a few years back, you mucked about with Mum’s dishwasher. Now it’s payback time,” I reminded him. “C’mon then…” I helped him pull off the (sexy) red jumper he was currently wearing, and I couldn’t resist running my fingers through the sparse hair on his chest. “Tell you what, though: if you’re a good boy and put the jumper on, I will make it very much worth your while…”

“Oh, yes!”

I dropped to my knees in front of him.

“What? Right now?”

“I’ll make it quick… I know all your secrets.”

He growled at me, his eyes darkening. “I’ll be wanting another round later tonight, Tyler.”

“You think so, do ya?”

“Of course, I’ll be happy to return the favour. I’ll make you come so hard, your screams will be heard all the way to Gallifrey and back! Think you’re up for that?”

I gazed up at him with what I hoped was a seductive smile and stroked him where he was now straining against the front of his trousers. “You’re on! But the real question is, can you manage not to scream? We don’t really need that lot making any more wagers at our expense.”

--ooOoo--

Sorry Santa, got off on a bit of a tangent there… It happens sometimes, as you’re well aware.

So… where was I? Oh, yeah, so fifteen minutes later, we came out of the loo. With my help (holding the partridge), we managed to get the jumper over the Doctor’s head. He looked very, very, extremely not happy, despite my recent… erm… display of affection. “I feel ridiculous!” he gritted out to me.

“It’s just for a few hours, love.” I patted his arm and took his hand for moral support and made bloody sure to conceal my amusement from him.

As we returned to the living room, out the corner of my eye, I was pretty certain I saw some money changing hands, although, to his credit, the Doctor had kept very quiet and I had checked that my hair and make-up were in order. Maybe they were wagering on whether he’d be wearing the jumper… Who knows?

Anyway, I had to agree with the Doctor’s assessment: the jumper did look more than a bit silly, but everyone cheered and laughed at it.  They were having so much fun over it, and the Doctor ended up being a good sport, showing it off, spreading his arms and making silly faces about the “vile” pears dangling from them.

I admit, I kept to myself the fact that I thought there had to be more to it than just a jumper with pears and a big, daft bird. Mum had waited years to get her revenge. She wasn’t about to let him off with something so… simple. I could only wonder what she had planned and when it would happen.

As it turned out, I didn’t have to wonder very long.

It was only a few minutes later when Mum called us all over for supper. She, of course, had place-cards at every setting. The Doctor was sat between Hrau-Ard and Gray, somewhere in the middle of one long side of the table, and Mum and I were directly across from them. Charlie was on the other side of Hrau-Ard; Noah and Tony were sat on either side of Abby, who was in Tony’s old high chair at one end of the table; and Dad was at the other end. Everyone else was scattered randomly around.

As the first course was served, everyone began to chatter to one another. The Doctor seemed quite relaxed, but I couldn’t help noticing the way Mum’s eyes kept fixing on him as he made cheerful small talk to everyone around him. Her lips pursed reflexively every time he stopped talking. She tried a couple of times to get Dad to tell us about something that had happened at work, but he had insisted he didn’t want to talk shop. He was determined to take some time away from it.

“Fine,” Mum muttered under her breath, “just tryin’ to liven up the conversation. Honestly.”

“I thought we were having a lovely time,” I told her. “Everyone’s relaxed and chatting… well except Therin, but you know… What’s going on? You’re up to something. I know you. You never ask Dad about Torchwood.”

“Pfffft, don’t be daft! Course I ask ‘im. And jus’ w’at do you mean ‘up to somethin’’? W’at could I possibly be up to?” With that, she turned deliberately away from me and began speaking to Hope about the progress of the Lunar settlements and asking her how she was finding living on a base. “I don’ know if I could take it, yeah. No fresh air, being cooped up inside all the time. I think I’d lose my mind, yeah.”

The Doctor’s eyes brightened as he responded to her. I was relieved he didn’t end up spewing out something rude about her already having lost her mind years back, which honestly seemed like it would be the natural course of the conversation. Instead, he launched into one of his diatribes about the environmental systems on the bases and how they purify the air.

With a smirk, Mum sat back in her seat to listen.

“…and remarkably, the fundamental design never changes from base to base, year after year. It’ll be centuries before someone gets the bright idea that basic human needs aren’t quite being met by–″ He was cut off when the partridge on his shoulder swung around and flapped its tail across his face. He frowned, spun the bird back around, and began to speak again.

This time the bird nipped his ear.

“Fuck!” he shouted in pain, which of course was mimicked loudly by Abby at the other end of the table.

“You dolt!” Mum snapped. “Now, look what you’ve done!”

“Oi! It’s your blasted bird that bit me! Oi! It just did it again!”

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Giggles erupted from the little girl as her daddies tried to shush her, and everyone had a good laugh.

Except Mum (“Don’t be so stupid! It’s not a real bird, ya numpty!”); and the Doctor, who glowered at Mum but (remarkably) held his tongue.

“Mum,” I hissed at her, “it bit him. I saw it.”

“Bit him? Stuff and nonsense!”

The Doctor shook his head at me, and at his telepathic request, I decided not to pursue it any further.

Abby had calmed down again, her new word forgotten as quickly as it had come, and normal conversation resumed around the table as the main course was served. It wasn’t long before the Doctor had dived into a conversation about the most current medical breakthroughs with Gray and with Hrau-Ard, who was apparently training as a physician as well. They bantered back and forth for a short time and then the Doctor launched into a long discourse about the benefits of some sort of medical scanner or other. About a minute in, the bird wheeled around, slapping him in the face with its tail once more, and another few seconds after that, it bit him again.

“Right! Ow! Again, you bloody– Ow!” He dug into his trouser pockets for his sonic, threatening the bird with it. “Now, we’ll sort– Blimey! STOP! Ow!”

I glanced over at Mum who was chuckling away to herself, while everyone else was up, getting ready to help the Doctor. Oh, she knew exactly what was going on. And I had no doubt she had orchestrated it.

Hrau-Ard had stood up and was holding the bird still, his tentacled appendages wrapped around it securely. He was doing a great job keeping it from pecking at the Doctor’s ear, which seemed to happen every time he tried to talk.

Mum scoffed next to me. “Talks far too much, anyway, that one. Maybe this will teach ‘im to keep quiet and not monopolize the conversation.”

“So, this was you, then? How the hell did you...?”

“Oh, sweetheart, it only goes off when ‘e natters on for too long. It resets again after ‘e’s given our ears a bit of a break.”

“But…”

“Oh, I know a few of the folks down in Tech. They were quite ‘appy to do me a little favour, especially after ‘imself barged in there a month or so back and told ‘em they were sequencin’ somethin’-or-other all wrong.”

“He told me about that. It was all wrong!”

“Well, seems they didn’t like ‘is tone… all ‘igh and mighty and ‘I’m so clever’.”

I flopped back in my chair, and just shook my head. I returned my attention to the other side of the table where the Doctor had adjusted the settings on his sonic and was brandishing it at the animatronic bird.

“Oi,” Mum yelped, “don’t you damage my bird.”

“Priorities, Jackie! Your bloody bird is trying to damage me. Do you realize how hard I had to concentrate to get these ears… not to mention this hair?”

“It is really great hair,” I agreed.

“Oh, shush you!” Mum shot me a scathing look.

“Right then! Allons-y!” Heedless of my mum’s protests, the Doctor activated the screwdriver pointing it at his feathered attacker, and several things happened all at once.

The strangest screeching sound reverberated from Hrau-Ard’s crests in harmonics that mimicked the sonic. He lost his grip on the bird and doubled over, two of his appendages flying to his crests. “This tickles! This tickles! I think I am about to…”

The bird, freed from it’s confines, resumed its attack on the Doctor’s ear, feathers flying everywhere. The Doctor, fumbled his sonic screwdriver, caught it again, and made a quick adjustment to the frequency, constantly yammering and threatening the bird and Mum, not quite making the connection that if he just shut up, the stupid thing would stop pecking him. Finally finding an opening, he pressed the tip of the sonic to the bird’s breast, activating it with a triumphant “Ha!”

Hrau-Ard had resumed his composure once the sonic had stopped but started making that bizarre sound from his crests again once it was reactivated. His facial filaments were absolutely trembling. “It is happening again. I am going to… I am going to…″

The sound seemed to amplify the effects of the sonic. The hapless partridge stopped its attack, but its entire body began to pulse as the wailing hoots from Hrau-Ard’s crest intensified. Everyone was covering their ears, except the Doctor who had turned off the sonic, and was watching in horror, from the corner of his eye, the ominous pulsing of the bird on his left shoulder.

“I am going to–″ Hrau-Ard shouted, and his crests shrieked in a final eruption of noise, and the bird’s body suddenly exploded with a massive blast, sending feathers, sparks, and electronic gizmos everywhere.

“–sneeze,” Hrau-Ard hooted into the silence that had fallen over us all.

A long moment later, just as everyone was catching their collective breath, the Doctor yelped, as cinders from the explosion caught in his hair, causing it to smoulder and burn. “Ow, ow, ow! Blimey! My face! My hair!”

Abby started howling; everyone started shouting; I leaped across the top of the table to get to my poor husband; and Gray, the only one maintaining his composure, picked up a pitcher of ice water and dumped it over the Doctor’s head.

The Doctor sat there, completely stunned, as water dripped from his fringe into his face.

“Oh my God! Doctor!” I pulled his damp body against me, hugging him tight. “Are you all right?” I pulled back from the hug to look him in the face. I took in the angry red welts, the burned hair and…

He must have seen my astonishment. “What? What is it?”

“Your… your left eyebrow. It’s… it’s gone…”

“What? What?” His fingers flew to his brow, where the hair had been singed away. “WHAT?”

“And some of your hair… just up the left side…”

“Jackie Tyler!” he bellowed. He made to get up from his chair, but Gray shoved him back into it.

“Sit still! You have burns. I’ll need to use the dermal regenerator on them.”

“It won’t bring back my eyebrow, though, will it? My left eyebrow too. It’s my most expressive one,” he added wistfully.

Mum had come rushing around the table. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry! That wasn’t supposed to happen. I’ll cut your hair for ya, real nice. And your eyebrow will grow back again in no time, I expect.”

“Yeah, I suppose it will,” he said relaxing a bit. “And more expressive than ever! Makes you think, what would I ever do without eyebrows?” He shuddered at the thought. “And, Jackie, I have to admit, you couldn’t have known that the sonic would resonate with Hrau-Ard’s crests and make the bird explode like that. Though, I have to say, good riddance!”

“It is all my fault. I must apologize profusely,” Hrau-Ard hooted, his wings fluttering.

Mum protested, “Oh, no, Howard!”

“Nah, she’s right, Hrau-Ard,” the Doctor reassured him, “don’t be silly! But now I know not to use my sonic at that frequency in your presence.” He beamed. “Besides, what fun would Christmas be without a little bit of unexpected excitement?”

“At least there aren’t any blinkin’ killer Christmas trees, yeah?” Mum pointed out, as Gray finished up with the dermal regenerator.

“Oh yes! Too true. Looking on the bright side, Jackie. Do it while you can, because you know what…?” He bounded out of his chair, tore the remnants of the hapless partridge from his shoulder, and plucked the Santa hat from Dad’s head. He shoved it over his wet, scorched hair and with a wicked grin spreading over his face, he sang: “Jackie Tyler… you better watch out, you better not cry, you better not pout. I’m telling you why: Santa Claus is coming to town.”

Oh, God, Santa, the look on Mum’s face. “Oh, you wouldn’t dare…”

“And Santa isn’t happy, Jackie. Really, you better watch out…” He skipped away out of the dining room, heading directly for the kitchen.

Mum took off after him. “You stay away from my appliances. You’re a bleedin’ hellion, you are,” she shouted.

Hrau-Ard honked in alarm and pulled Charlie next to him, wrapping his tentacles around her.

“Don’t worry, love,” Charlie sounded resigned, “you get used to it once you’ve been around this crowd long enough. We’re all a bit mental, but we all love one another.”

So, there it is, Santa. A typical Tyler-Noble Christmas!

I spent quite a while trying to intercept the Doctor before he did any damage to Mum’s kitchen... and other things. I actually found him mucking about in her en suite. Not sure if he managed to do anything before I caught up to him and got him back home, but at least I got to him before Mum did. Like I said before, he looks far too pleased with himself, despite the missing eyebrow and the singed hair. He must have left some sort of surprise behind for Mum. No doubt I’ll hear about it soon enough.

And right now, I’m just waiting for him to “return the favour” he promised me in Mum’s powder room earlier, something about making me scream so loud I’d be heard all the way to Gallifrey. He’s just spending an awful long time in the loo... probably trying out my eyebrow pencils, if I know him. Maybe later I’ll take the TARDIS out, go back a few days, and get him some of his own for his stocking before everyone gets up tomorrow morning.

Happy Christmas, Santa. Give my love to all. Sorry for going off on a bit of a tangent earlier. I was just lying here, waiting for the Doctor and thinking… Oh, I reckon you’re used to it by now, yeah. There’ve been a few tangents over the years and I haven’t had a lump of coal yet. But, just saying, if you feel the urge to leave a lump of coal in the Doctor’s and my mum’s stockings, by all means, go right ahead! I’m all for it!

                                                                                                                                 Love, Rose

#doctorroseprompts #kidfic #tentoo x rose #christmas fic #extreme silliness #fluff #family #hurt/comfort #ficandchips #tenroseforeverandever's fic

[anneedmonds]

Glycolic Peel Pads: The Thirty Day Challenge | AD

Most of you know that my love affair with acid exfoliants – in particular glycolic acid – is fairly long-standing. I like the ease with which an AHA exfoliant (for that is what it is, if you want the fancy name) slips into your skincare routine and I especially like the fast, visible results. The glycolic acid breaks down and removes the build up of dead skin cells that accumulates over time, leaving skin brighter and smoother and doing all of this in a completely non-abrasive way. Bye-bye weird scrubs with ground-up seeds and bits of gravel in them, hello swipe-once exfoliants that take mere seconds to apply and are massively more effective…

Anyway, to cut a long story short: acid exfoliants, big thumbs up from me. And so when the team at L’Oreal asked me to take part in their 30 day Peel Pad Challenge I was more than happy to take up the gauntlet. Their Glycolic Peel Pads launched fairly recently in the UK, much to my excitement – I had crossing my fingers that they would add these to the UK Revitalift line-up. There are few products that can really make a visible difference in a short amount of time and acid exfoliants are, I think, one of them.

I only had two worries: one was that I wouldn’t be able to remember to use the pads every single day for thirty days. Acid peels or exfoliating products aren’t something I usually use daily – more like twice or three times a week – and so I wondered how many evenings I’d forget to swipe one on. My other worry was sort of related to this: would using an acid exfoliant every day be too much for my skin?

As it turned out, remembering to use the peel pads was easy; I just left the pot next to my cleanser on the shelf and sat my moisturiser on top of the lid so that I saw the pads before it was too late. And the “overdoing it” worry? Well, L’Oreal had asked me to take part in the challenge for that very reason – the glycolic complex that saturates the pre-soaked pads has been formulated for daily use, so you don’t have to worry about it causing adverse effects. The L’Oreal Revitalift Laser Renew Anti Ageing Glycolic Peel Pads (name and a half, that!) felt gentle on my skin but definitely didn’t feel lacking in the brightening department. There was the familiar tingling sensation when I wiped the pad over my face (after cleansing, before serum/moisturiser, easy peasy) but never any redness or tightness or feeling of irritation.

Excellent, Smithers. (Oh my God, sidenote: do you remember how popular The Simpsons was? Sometimes I come out with what I think is a popular saying or proverb but it’s actually just a soundbite from The Simpsons. Usually something Homer has said, but other characters pop into my head too. Every Valentine’s day I think of that card, I Choo-Choo-Choose You.)

And so, the results of my 30 Day Peel Pad Challenge. My biggest observation was that my skin appeared to be more even-toned and clear throughout the month. Even in my notoriously dicey hormonal week there were no breakouts – I had one spot the size of a bubo, midway through my cycle, but I suspect it was caused by eating an entire oversized Cadbury’s easter egg in one sitting. (I didn’t want it to go off.) So, no breakouts, no bumpiness, and a gorgeous, even-toned clarity that made me look rather fresh and youthful, if I do say so myself.

I thought there might be redness or a bit of irritation around the nose, where I get a bit sensitive, but nothing. I followed the pads, by the way, with a retinol cream every other night, and it’s well worth noting that I didn’t get any sensitivity or reaction at all. I know that many people think you can’t use them together, but there were no problems whatsoever with this little line-up. You do have to remember to use an SPF in the daytime however – I used Revitalift Laser Renew SPF20, reviewed here. It’s bouncy and gorgeous and doesn’t leave any chalky or greasy feel.

Right: fancy winning a year’s supply of the Glycolic Peel Pads? L’Oreal are running a competition – it closes at 6pm today and the T&Cs are here. All you need to do is post a skin selfie and tag @lorealskin on Instagram or @lorealparis if it’s Facebook or Twitter! Good luck, my happy little peelers…

You can find L’Oreal Glycolic Peel Pads at Boots.com here – they are currently £14.99 instead of £22.49!

This post contains paid-for advertorial with L’Oreal Paris.

  The post Glycolic Peel Pads: The Thirty Day Challenge | AD appeared first on A Model Recommends.

Glycolic Peel Pads: The Thirty Day Challenge | AD was first posted on May 31, 2018 at 11:24 am. ©2017 "A Model Recommends". Use of this feed is for personal non-commercial use only. If you are not reading this article in your feed reader, then the site is guilty of copyright infringement. Please contact me at [email protected] Glycolic Peel Pads: The Thirty Day Challenge | AD published first on https://medium.com/@SkinAlley

[sportsandfitnessinfo]

New Post has been published on http://fitnessandhealthpros.com/foods/the-joys-and-challenges-of-cooking-from-scratch/

The Joys and Challenges of Cooking from Scratch

Ed. Note: Cooking from scratch is healthier for us and produces less waste. Robyn shares a peek at her journey preparing from-scratch food for herself and her family.

Attempting to create a zero waste home is certainly met with challenges. Every time I give something away or clear out an area, more things my family doesn’t need or regularly use show up in the house. Every day I become more and more aware of how ubiquitous plastics, non-recyclable goods, and single-use items are, even in my progressive, environmental-home of San Francisco. Freedom from this throw-away, wasteful culture doesn’t come easy.

But with a little hard work and a lot of dedication, it’s possible to start breaking away. Last month, I talked about reducing waste while grocery shopping. This month, let’s talk about cooking from scratch to turn those groceries into waste-free meals.

The Reason for Cooking from Scratch

Our food comes covered in stickers and wrapped in petroleum-based plastic. It’s served on Styrofoam and aluminum trays, preserved in cans and held together with rubber bands. Some of this can be recycled, but a lot of it can’t.

Breaking free from this waste isn’t only good for the environment; it’s also good for health. Last year, a study published in the journal Environmental Research revealed that consuming canned foods can expose our bodies to Bisphenol A or BPA. This harmful industrial chemical has been linked to premature puberty in females; decreased sperm quality; and increases in breast and prostate cancers, infertility, miscarriages, obesity, type 2 diabetes, allergies and neurological problems like attention deficit hyperactivity disorder.

BPA isn’t only found in cans. It’s added to plastic to make it durable, and could be in the packaging “protecting” our food. Cooking from scratch means you avoid all of that excess packaging and the chemicals it leaches into our food.

A Little Bit at a Time

To free myself of packaging, I’ve started cooking from scratch, adding to my stockpile over time. I decided to start with tortillas, pita bread, hummus, homemade yogurt, stocks, broths, and beans because they all come wrapped in plastic or sealed in cans, and they’re relatively easy. (I am not culinary genius, trust me.)

My grocery store sells hummus powder in bulk, so I only need to add water, oil and lemon juice. I found a yogurt maker on Craigslist. Breads are a bit more complicated, but not much and totally worth the yummy result.

I find I only need to make bread once a week, yogurt twice a week, and one meal completely from scratch that I can freeze and eat over time. Thankfully, these meals accumulate, so I don’t have to spend too much time cooking from scratch every week.

Time Is An Issue

But finding time to cook is still the hardest part. I only work part time as a freelance writer, so I have the flexibility to devote an hour or more to meal prep everyday. But it has impacted the amount of time I have to write and research story ideas, as well as spend time with my son. I can only imagine how much harder cooking from scratch would be if I worked full time.

Sharing responsibility with other people in the house could alleviate the burden. Friends have also told me it’s easier if you cook the week’s meals on Sunday. Of course, with time, I may learn how to cook faster.

It would be wonderful if more businesses made eating waste-free more convenient. When I’m sick or really busy, it would be great to order take-out and not feel guilty about the mountains of plastic waste that always come with the meal.

Self Esteem Gets a Boost

Staying dedicated to the cause does provide a huge sense of empowerment and pride. A few months ago, I would have shied away from many of the recipes I now embrace and conquer. Starting to learn the little tricks (proofing yeast, keeping baking bread moist) is such a huge confidence booster, and seeing the amount of trash disappear has given my self esteem a huge boost. I CAN break free of plastic waste and eat more than just salads.

Of course, it’s also pretty cool watching my family and friends devour my creations.

A version of this article originally appeared at Sustainablog; republished here with permission. Cooking from Scratch image via Shutterstock.

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Tags: cooking from scratch, food packaging waste, food waste, home cooking

About the Author

Robyn Purchia I’m an organic-eating, energy-saving naturalist who composts and tree hugs in her spare time. I have a background in environmental law, lobbying, and field work. I believe in God; however, I do not call myself a Christian or a Jew or a member of any religion. I am merely someone who finds a spiritual connection to all humans and the environment. You can find me on Twitter, Facebook, and Google+.

Originally at :Eat Drink Better Written By : Robyn Purchia

#Challenges #Cooking #From #Joys #Scratch