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authornina · 3 years

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Chiniyah “Chi” Cassidy-Porter

***THIS HAS NOT BEEN THROUGH A TYPICAL EDITING PROCESS; ALL SHORTS ARE ROUGH DRAFTS***

“Chi you just look like the sun frenched kissed you, hoe!” her hairdresser Jennice said. “I know y’all had a ball, I saw all the pictures on IG.”

“We did, it was so nice, I wish we could’ve stayed longer.”

“Y’all came back last night?”

“Mhm…”

“So we puttin’ a unit on today?” Jennice asked, playing in her big bush.

“Yea, I’m tired of this natural shit, I want to feel like me again.”

“What color?”

“You got any thirty inches? Ion care about the color. As long as it’s not black.”

“I got one, it’s yellow though.”

“Ooh, that might be cute, let me see…” While Chi was waiting, she checked her phone. Kierra sent her a text saying that there were no hard feelings and apologizing. Sav was wrong too but at the end of the day, she wasn’t leaving him so there was nothing she could do. “I know this bitch don’t think we gon’ be cool again just like that.” She didn’t reply, instead calling Ivy. “Ew, don’t answer if y’all was being nasty!”

“Hoe, what do you want?” Ivy asked. She could hear Vant telling her to get off the phone. Chi totally forgot they were on their honeymoon that fast; she was so used to calling Ivy up and talking every day.

“Tell your friend I don’t accept her apology and she can kiss my ass.”

“Which one?”

“Kierra.”

“Come on, Chi, just let it go.”

“I have but me and her not cool no more. She coulda kept that energy where it belonged but no, she wanna come at my neck cause Mumu got her feelings hurt. Ion fuck with shit like that.”

“Did you forgive Sav?”

“No! But that’s my husband and we gon’ work it out whenever I feel like it.”

“Y’all get on my damn nerves. I will talk to you about it when I get back, let me and my husband enjoy our alone time, bye hoe!” Ivy hung up on her.

“Ard,” Jennice popped her tongue, coming back running a comb through the long bright yellow wig. “What you think?”

“I think I’m bout to stunt on these bitches. Let’s get it!” Chi was excited. She loved color hair ever since she was a teenager.

After four hours, getting her lashes done and eyebrows tinted, Chi felt like a new bitch. She couldn’t stay out of the mirror taking pictures. She posted one to Instagram and already had two thousand likes. Sav commented delete this and Chi laughed calling him. He didn’t answer but called back three seconds later from a random number.

“Why the fuck you got them little ass shorts on?”

“Sav, bye! I look good! Your nasty cheatin’ ass can’t even give me a compliment.”

“For what? You got all them lame ass niggas on there thirsty as fuck telling you how bad you are already, and I told you I ain’t fuck her after we got married.”

“I want my husband to tell me,” she responded ignoring his second statement because Chi knew his ass was lying.

“You look beautiful.”

“Thank you!” Chi popped her tongue. “Where you at?”

“I’m around,” Sav responded and Chi knew what that meant. He was probably doing some illegal shit with one of his brothers. “Text me when you get home.”

“K, love you.”

“Love you too.”

It probably wasn’t a good thing that cheating was glossed over the way it was in their relationship, but they’d done it so much to each other, at that point neither could tell the truth from a lie.

“Girl you gon’ stop traffic! Matter fact fuck that! You are the yellow light, tell the niggas and hatin’ ass bitches to slow they lil hoopties down when a bad bitch strollin’!” Jennice shouted, admiring her handiwork. “Tell me my hands don’t go brazy!”

“Nah, you that bitch! I look like a million dawlars.”

“Sure the fuck do! And you better had tagged me.”

“I did! Bye hoe!”

Chi walked out of the shop and sure enough the horns were honking, and bitches eyes were rolling. Jennice’s hair salon was located in her old neighborhood so most of the girls around there did not like Chi because their niggas did. Day and Savannah were at Avery’s house with all the other kids, so she decided to stop by her mother’s since she was in the area.

Martha lived on the same block as she did when Chi was a child. She was sitting on the porch smoking a cigarette talking on the phone.

“Hold on Tressa, let me call you back, my hot in the ass daughter just popped up on me. Ard girl.” Marth pursed her lips as Chi came up the steps. Her child was nothing but her when she was that age. “Look at you, that hair cute.”

“Thank you,” Chi said, kissing her cheek and sitting down. “You ard?”

“Chiniyah, I am fine…where is my grandbaby?”

“At Avery’s house.”

“So that’s your family now?”

“Why do you have to be like that? They are Sav’s family which makes them mine.”

“I don’t like his ass. Now all our past family issues is a problem. Soon as you get with that nigga you wanna act all different and shit.”

“How?”

“You think you too good to be around us now? You too rich?”

“Now I’m never like that and stayed with my own money before I even met Sav. You should be happy for me! I actually married the father of my child.”

“Yea yea, Chiniyah, congrats to you,” Martha said, sarcastically. “Father of your second child,” she laughed, and Chi bit her tongue not wanting to go off on her mother.

Over the years she’d realized that Martha wouldn’t change no matter what she did. She and Ivy had a talk once and they both came to the fact that their mothers shared a lot of the same characteristics. Like Ebony, Martha displayed jealousy towards her daughter.

“Like why you even goin’ there?!”

“You gettin’ smart lil girl?” Martha said, putting her cigarette out. “You ain’t too old to get your ass kicked.”

Chi mumbled under her breath going in the house. Sometimes she wanted to knock her own mom out. Martha always made everything ten times worst. When she was a teenager, she couldn’t wait to get away from her. The moment she turned eighteen, Chi got a job and moved out on her own.

Chi stopped in the living room at the big picture of her brother over the mantle whom she loss at a young age. He was her everything back then. He saved her from a life of young motherhood and sadly not only was he taken away but so was the child she thought giving up was the best decision at the time.

“Chiniyah!” her uncle Ivan popped out of the kitchen and she gave him a long hug. “Look at my baby! What that bitch done said to you now?” he asked already knowing how his sister Martha could be.

“Nothing, I just hate when she act like that. Like I did something to her personally.”

“She won’t let old demons die. Her ass know better than to start in front of me though because I’ll fuck her up behind you.”

Ivan was Chi’s favorite person in her entire family. He was a surprise baby, so they were only three years apart. Teenage motherhood ran rapid through her family. Her grandmother, mother, aunts and several cousins were youngs moms. But nobody knew her better or tried to understand her more than her uncle. He always took her side when everyone ganged up on her and was there when she’d get into trouble and Martha or her grandmother refused to bail her out. He even supported her career as a stripper. Plenty nights he’d come and party with her at the club.

“Where is my babies?”

“At Sav’s brother house. I’m going to get them after this, I had to get my hair done.”

“I see, my niece a bad bitch.”

“You seeeee meeeee,” Chi said, flipping her hair. “Grandma not here?” she asked, lifting the tops on the pans. Ivan could cook his ass off, and she wished for Sav she had the patience to learn a thing or two because her poor husband never got a home cooked meal out of her.

“She went on the bus trip to AC. Her ass gon’ spend all that SSI check then come back mad as hell and broke.”

“Well if she need anything tell her to call me.”

“Cause my baby got it like that now, huh?” Ivan smirked.

“You know…” Chi pursed her lips. “I’m holdin’ a lil sum sum.”

“Bu been by here lookin’ for you. That nigga don’t know when to throw in the towel.”

“I wish he would stop, I had to beg Sav not to make his ass disappear. You know my nigga not right in the head over me.”

“Does he know y’all history?”

“Yea, and it make him not like Bu even more. I hate that I had to choose.”

“Girl, Sav should’ve been the easiest choice you ever made. You said the nigga can fuck and he got money. Plus, you had his baby bitch. Fuck Bu! He had years to make you his number one. Mr. Sav came along and put a ring on that bitch immediately! That’s the energy you need not Bu slow ass.”

“It’s more than that, I miss our friendship.”

“You miss what kept y’all together for so long in the first place. You feel like it’s becoming a distant memory and you don’t want to forget but Chi, you gotta leave that shit in the past.”

“I did, Ion sweat Bu no more and I wish he would get off me.”

“That’s how you feel?” the voice caused Ivan and Chi to snap their necks towards the kitchen entrance. Martha must’ve let his ass in. She was only team Bu because she didn’t like Sav.

Bu was so damn fine to Chi. He wasn’t sexier than Sav, but he still could give him a run for his money. He was her height however all tattoos on his tan skin, the way he wore his fitted, the saggy jeans, it turned Chi on. She was a sucker for body ink. Something about it made a nigga look mean and dangerous even though Bu was not that at all, Sav however was another story.

Chi compared them a lot and most of the time Sav came out on top because he was the father of her child. That trumped everything for Chi. She didn’t want to be with somebody else and have to raise her baby with a stepfather. It didn’t seem right to her and she knew for damn sure Sav wouldn’t allow no shit like that anyway.

“Bu, what the fuck are you doin’ here?”

“Your mom let me in, give me a hug, Chiniyah.”

“No!” Chi backed up. “Do you want my husband to whip your ass again?”

“Ain’t nobody scared of fuckin’ Sav.”

“Yea okay, just leave Bu, damn! Everywhere I turn you stalkin’ me.”

“I know he better take that shit on somewhere,” Ivan said, gripping a pot. “I’ll give your ass a massive headache.”

“But when that nigga beatin’ ya ass or out here fuckin’ every bitch on you, then that’s when you sweatin’ me though.”

“Sav put his hands on you?! Oh hell no!”

“Bu is lyin’, Uncle. He a fuckin’ hater and mad I don’t want his ass.”

Chi and Bu had been friends since they were little. They lived on the same block and just like back then, he was still in love with Chi. She’d outgrown him but appreciated him as a friend. They went through something very traumatic with one another and it attached them for life. Sav didn’t like the friendship because Chi turned into a liar whenever his name was brought up and he knew they were more than just friends at some point.

Bu seen Chi through plenty relationships, mostly short term so it surprised him when Sav lasted longer than three months. Even more shocking when out of nowhere she just up and married the nigga. He knew all about the violent relationship they had and didn’t understand why someone Chi expressed hate for at times, she’d give her hand in marriage.

“You’ll want me, when Sav cheat on you again, bust your fuckin’ lips, bruise your ribs, yea,” Bu nodded. “You’ll come crawling right back like you always do.”

“Chiniyah Cassidy…well…” Ivan thought for a second. “What’s your new last name again?”

“Porter.”

“Chiniyah Porter, you better tell me something. Is this nigga tellin’ the truth?”

“No!”

“Yes!” Bu said, and Chi wanted to punch him in the face.

“Uncle, I’m bout to go,” Chi kissed his cheek. “I’ll call you later and this weekend we can do a girls day.”

“Ard, and your fresh ass better call me!”

Chi pushed Bu out of the kitchen towards the front door while he laughed. He knew he blew up her spot, but he didn’t care. He was tired of her using him whenever she was mad at Sav.

“You think everything is so funny,” Chi said, not in the slightest amused.

“I miss you,” Bu wrapped his arms around her. “Can I have a kiss?”

“No!” Chi turned her head and his lips landed on her neck making her giggle. “Get off, Bu!”

“Come chill with me.”

“Nope, I gotta go home to my children and husband,” Chi flashed her ring.

“Fuck that nigga.”

“You really bold,” Chi laughed. “Say something else about my man and I’ma fuck you up myself.”

“I had you first. I mean first first. You was my bitch.”

“What that mean to me?” Chi asked, not bothering to move him out of her personal space. Maybe the game she and Bu played was fun. “I’m his bitch now, you need to get the fuck outta here with that before he really kill you this time.”

“Fuck. Sav.” Bu slid his hands up her shirt, squeezing her braless breasts. Chi wanted to slap herself when a moan escaped against her will. It was history that kept her from setting boundaries with Bu. Like her body spoke to Sav it did the same for him. She couldn’t help it.

“Don’t…” Chi shuddered when his mouth touched her skin. “Disrespect my man.”

“What is goin’ on in here?” Martha snatched the screen door back and Chi pushed Bu away.

“Nothing, Mommy, Bu was just leaving,” Chi glared at him.

“Yea I’m out, Ms. M, take care,” he said kissing her cheek.

“Come by anytime, Bernard,” Martha said, calling him by his real name.

“Yea Bernard,” Chi teased, and Bu discreetly stuck his middle finger up at her. When he pulled off, she didn’t realize she was still staring in the same place.

“If you love that one, why you marry the other one?” Martha asked, bringing Chi out of her daze.

“Mom, what are you talkin’ bout? I do love Sav.”

“Yea, sure you do. But Bu got a piece of you too.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It mean Sav ain’t the only one whose sperm work on your lil fast tail ass!”

“Ard, I’m out,” Chi said with her nose turned up. Martha always ruined shit with the past. Something she felt like wasn’t her fault, but her mother would never let her live it down.

“You go ahead back on to your lil fancy ass castle,” Martha yelled after her. “You remember where everybody is that really love you!”

“It ain’t you!” Chi shouted back with more courage since she was outside, and her mother was behind the screen.

“Little girl,” Martha shoved the door open with her shoe in her hand.

Chi laughed running to the car and speeding off. She stopped at a red light, looking to her left and of course Bu was sitting there smiling. He nodded for her to follow him and Chi shook her head no. Bu shrugged then turned once the light changed. Chi fought with the angels and demons before going the same way.

#Onus #authornina #nina

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squishycheekanon · 3 years

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It’s Just Business - one

Werewolf Steve Rodgers x reader series

Warnings for the series: fluffness, Bucky and Sam bickering like five year olds, smutty smut, bad language.

Part two

“Buck, I can feel her here.” Steve spoke, his figure frozen as his wolf tried clawing his way out. Fighting to find it’s mate.

“The only people here are the servants.” His beta replied patting his shoulder. “She’ll reveal herself soon enough.”

“Dinner is served.” An old man dressed in a penguin suit said poshly dragging out each syllable. Everyone gathered around the table taking their seats.

The woman of the house whispered something to the older looking maid, though to everyone else except her husband, they all heard it as though she shouted it.

“Get my daughter down here.” The maid scurried off and the woman plastered a fake smile upon her face. A few moments of waiting later, a sweet scent of vanilla, old books and rain filled Steve’s nostrils.

I walked into the dining room my hair swaying behind me, my outfit was too revealing for my mother’s taste, I could see it in her eyes when I walked in, but I suppose that’s why I wore it. Just to see her pissed off expression, it gave me a giddy feeling inside. Flashing a smile to the participants of tonight’s show. I couldn’t wait to see how my parent’s had planned to brag today.

“I apologise for being late.” I spoke clearly, sitting down at the end of the table, opposite to my father who gave me a small nod. I returned the gesture. Food was placed in front of me and my stomach lurched at the fancy pancy sustenance.

“Would so kill for a burger.” I grumbled quietly, but a muffled snort had me looking at a brunette. He wore his hair in a low man bun, his blue eyes deep. His black shirt suited the dark demeanour he held. Blinking away from our locked gazes, I tuned into the shrill sound of my mother’s voice as she conversed with their wonderful benefactors.

That’s who this meal was for. My father, the Mayor, had only a small handful of people he trusted his affairs to. The three people sat at this dining table were some of them. They gave my father his protection against politisions that might try and weave their way into his office. The three men lead an organisation that I wanted to stay far away from, one that snuck inside other organisations and gained power from knowing their secrets.

The other two groups of people gave my father his money and his immunity to do whatever he wanted to people and get away with it. It wasn’t that my father was a bad man, he had just done certain things to get where he was now. Certain things that gave him his status as Mayor, that gave him his money, that gave him all the secrets that filled his pockets.

My parent’s invite their benefactors over for dinner frequently but I always avoided them, with the excuse of studying or extra curricular activities. However this one I couldn’t get out of, I didn’t think of an excuse quick enough. Was too tired that day and now I had to munch on leafy soup instead of my usual burger and fries from my favourite diner.

I took the chance to look around at the other two men. One was a man who I’d actually met before, once at my Father’s office. His name was Sam, he was kind and funny. Made the meeting we had to sit through bearable with his jokes and the gift of sharing my sarcastic language. His dark purple shirt made him look some what posh, though the bored look in his eyes could of made me laugh until my stomach hurt.

The third man was absolutely gorgeous. He was the kind of man I wanted. All rugged and lumberjack like. His dirty blonde hair slightly overgrown, but not enough to be able to tie it back like the brunette. His beard had me clenching my legs together at the thought of beard burn on my thighs. Damn. How can someone be so hot? I didn’t know it was physically possible for a shirt to stretch that much. The dark blue material was clinging to his body for dear life, trying desperately not to break as he moved his arm up and down gulping down the green soup.

It seemed he was trying to eat it quickly, almost getting it over and done with. Better than having to endure the rath of my mother for refusing her ‘finest’ chef’s qu’usine. He seemed to noticed me staring at him but ignored it. His eyes were blue, they reminded me of the ocean. There was something reassuring about it.

“Miss Alexandra,” I looked to my left to see Martha my personal maid, “there’s a very important call for you.” She could hardly contain her excitement, too loud that everyone heard what she said. I glanced towards my mother who nodded, instantly I was out of my seat practically jogging to answer the phone.

“Hello?” I spoke, cringing at the eagerness in my tone.

“Miss. Culling?”

“Yes this is she.”

“This is Townsend University calling about your application for a scholarship. We wanted to let you know personally that we are declining your application. We’re very sorry.” The woman sounded as if she could care less.

“Can I ask the reason why?” My lip quivered making me bite down on it hard.

“You simply have too much money Miss. Culling. I’m sure your parents can help you in securing a place here. Other than that we have no other way to help you, I apologise. Have a good evening.” She hung up after spouting her bitter train of thought.

My breath came out shaky matching my unsteady hand as I placed the phone down. Covering my mouth to stop any sobs from escaping.

“Oh my dear.” Martha wrapped her arms around my shoulders stroking a wrinkled hand through my straightened hair. “Maybe you should call your brother. Not the silly whipper snapper but the golden troublemaker.” She chuckled at the thought of the boys she basically raised. She was right.

“Little sister to what do I owe the honour?”

“Townsend University rejected me.” I fought the tears that wanted nothing more but to ruin the mascara I’d put on earlier this evening.

“Oh Alexandra. I’m so sorry. Did they say why?”

“Our parent’s money. Same as the others. How did you do it Bash?” My foot tapped against the hard wood floor waiting impatiently for some kind of way to fix my problem.

“Back when I was completing mother and father’s task, colleges only cared about having someone of title on their campus to get a higher status. Now all they care about is money.” He scoffed.

“I don’t have any other options left. Bash what do I do?” I begged him to tell me.

“Why don’t you come here for a few days? You can relax while I think of a plan. Get you out of that retched house.” I heard him flipping through a book and I knew it was his calendar.

“Are you sure Lara won’t mind?” I inquired after his pregnant wife.

“Never she adores you, you know that. Just get through the evening little sister and I’ll have a car come pick you up.” He hummed through the phone.

“Thankyou brother.” I hung up and took a series of deep breaths. I sighed making my way back inside the room.

“Who was it my dear?” Mother asked with a slight glare that if anyone else saw it, they’d assume it was motherly concern. I was not anyone else.

“Bash called.” I replied sitting down next to the lumberjack who’s eyes burned a whole in my head.

“Oh our eldest son, he is a delight.” My mother chirped.

“Isn’t he just.” I quipped under my breath. I loved my brother dearly but I couldn’t help but be slightly jealous of the affection he gained from both my parents when I had none.

“I’m staying there for a few days before finals start.” I smiled at her. She seemed to think it over for a moment before glancing at my father.

“I think it’s a good idea.” He shrugged and went back to whatever they were talking about before I came back in.

Soon dinner was over, it took far too long for my liking. My father and his benefactors retired to his office for a while. My mother on the phone to one of her stupid friends bitching about something I didn’t care to listen to. I just wanted this evening to be over.

“Miss, your father would like a word.” Omg did he know already? Did he find out I had failed? No! He couldn’t! He promised to stay out of it until the end of the year. Wiping my sweating hands on my jumpsuit, I knocked on the office door and went in.

My Father’s office wasn’t too big or too small. The double doors I stepped through were made from a dark wood like everything else. There were books covering every inch of the right wall and a window on the left one. In the middle was a big desk my stoic parent sat at. The three men scattered around the room. The brunette sat at the windowsill. The blonde stood leaning against the bookshelf. And Sam sat in the left of the two chairs sitting opposite my fathers desk. I took the right and waited expectantly.

“You’re going to stay with Steve here until the end of summer.” He gestured to the blonde from earlier. Steve Rodgers. That was it? That’s all my father had to stay.

“Why?” I wouldn’t usually question my father but something in me pushed to ask. I had a right to know.

“I said you’d be sent somewhere this year for your survival skills and this is it. Anything could happen at any moment. You could be kidnapped or this very house could be held hostage. I have be sure I’m not worrying about you in case that happens. I need to know that I can focus of the business side of it not emotion.” He grunted. As if he had any emotions at all.

“The end of summer...starting when?” My nails dug into my palms, I started to feel so angry. I was eighteen years old for Christ sake and he was sending me away like he did when I was a child to summer camps so he didn’t have to deal with me.

“After you come back from your brother‘s house.” Suddenly I never wanted to come back from Bash’s house.

“But that’s eight months.” I sputtered, this was ridiculous. He was sending me away for almost a year give or take a few months.

“You dare question me in my own home?” He leaned forward on his desk glaring me down. I had glared back before and had faced the consequences. Not this time.

“No father. I’ll start packing the second I’m home.” I lowered my head.

“Good. Now get out.” I didn’t need to be told twice. The moment the door closed behind me I ran to my room pulling a bag out from my closet, packing what I’d need for a few days away and leaving without a goodbye. The car was already waiting for me just as Bash had promised.

“Thank. You. Bash.” I grinned getting inside the black car and telling the driver to step on it. Thoughts plagued my mind while I gazed out the window at the big trees.

Why was I being sent away? Why so long? Why didn’t my parents love me enough to want me to stay? Was it my fathers idea? How the fuck was I going to make a plan to complete my parent’s task if I’m up in the forest? Was it the forest or mountains? Or both?

But the question I didn’t expect my mind to conjure up left me slapping my hand against my head to pushed it away.

Was I going to enjoy living with the big sexy lumberjack called Steve?

#steve rodgers x reader #steve rogers #steve rodgers imagine #steve rodgers x y/n #werewolf #wolf pack #Alpha #Beta #werewolf x human #bucky barnes #alpha steve rogers #marvel

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kikis-writing-world · 4 years

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Sunflowers and Pink Roses

A/N: Full disclosure: I’ve never seen The Mentalist. Anything I know about Marcus is from y’all on here. So I know he’s sweet, romantic and deserved better™. I dunno, I had this fluffy idea and it just seemed him... apologies if I got his characterization way off since this is basically the fic version of broken telephone.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Female Reader

Word Count: ~1700

Rating/Warnings: PG - It’s super tame, I only even say PG because I think there’s one F-bomb in it. Also not thoroughly edited as usual.

Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day and you’re still painfully single. Marcus happens to notice.

It was February.

More specifically, the second week of February.

February 14th to be exact.

Valentine’s Day.

You wouldn’t say you hated the holiday, but there weren’t a lot of days that strived to remind you just how single you were. You didn’t mind being single most of the time. You were a strong independent woman raised on Charlie’s Angels, Princess Leia, Miss Piggy. Like Destiny’s Child sang, “I depend on me!” You didn’t need a man to depend on for your happiness.

All of that didn’t stop you from watching those stupid Hallmark Romcoms with glossy eyes and an open yet slightly broken heart. You selfishly wanted someone who would look at you like you hung all the stars in the sky. Someone who would send you good morning and good night texts, buy you little trinkets just because. Not to mention you wanted someone to do the same for. Someone you would think about during the day with a secret smile. You had all the love to give, just nowhere to direct it. At least not yet.

So on February 14th, you plastered the smile on your face with a little more force than usually needed. The water cooler gossip was mostly about who had what reservations where, what lovely things they had planned for the evening. You ignored the red and pink hearts hanging festively along the walls, trying to focus instead on the fact that tomorrow there would be a massive sale on candy and chocolates. Just keep your head down and make it through this one day.

The first bouquet arrived with a ding of the elevator, barely past ten in the morning. It was a modest bouquet of whites and reds. All eyes watched it as the delivery was carried through the office and placed on a coworker’s desk. A gift from her husband. The women fawned over the bouquet and you even offered a polite smile to Jenna, but ultimately turned back to work to tune it out.

The next gift was barely 30 minutes later: a white teddy bear carrying a heart-shaped box of chocolates with a balloon tied around it’s waist deposited on Petra’s desk.

Then chocolates for Selena.

Roses for Anton.

Bouquet for Rhonda.

Cookies for Tanya.

You lost count, but you couldn’t help but watch with envy as each gift was carried past, giggles and chatter following it. Maybe next year.

~☆*☆*☆~

Marcus loved Valentine’s day. He loved it more when he had someone to share it with, someone to dote on, but he still loved the sentiment behind it nonetheless. He watched from his office with a smile each time a new gift was deposited on someone’s desk. The happiness he felt carried a small sting, a reminder of the relationships of the past, but it faded fairly quickly as he shared in the happiness of his coworkers.

He had thought about trying to find a date for the night, trying out one of those dating apps he always heard about, but it felt forced. He wanted that romance but he wanted it organically. He wanted to meet someone at his local coffee shop or at a museum. In a library or at the park. Shy conversations while he worked up the nerve to ask for her number. Wondering how long to wait until he called. Worrying about how many dates until it was acceptable to kiss her. Despite the pain of past heartbreak, he knew when the time was right he’d find the one.

He watched with another grin as a massive, bright bouquet of pink, red and orange flowers was carried through the office. It was a little much for his tastes, he preferred something small that made a statement. He held pride in finding out his partner’s favorite flower or colour, using that information to personalize a gift like that.

As he watched the bouquet cross the floor to Indira’s desk, his eyes fell to your face. Your desk was opposite the windows to his office, so it wasn’t uncommon for his eyes to fall on you as he worked. Even through the window and across the 10 feet or so to your desk, he could read your expression like a book. You watched the flowers pass with a wistful envy before offering Indira a tight smile. You turned back to your work, smile falling and a crease appearing on your brow. Marcus was familiar with that expression because he had definitely made it before.

He leaned up in his chair, trying to sneak a look at your desk. He didn’t see flowers, stuffed animals, chocolates. Nothing left there by a loved one to brighten your day. He leaned back, trying to think if any of the office gossip he’d heard recently mentioned if you had a partner. He knew you weren’t married, not that he’d ever admit to subtly checking your hand for a wedding ring. He was technically your boss, your direct superior, and he knew first hand how messy dating a coworker could get. Yes, he thought you were pretty. And funny. And charming. And had a smile that could light up the room- He’d convinced himself plenty of times not to pursue it further, not wanting to get tangled in another workplace romance.

He didn’t know how long he was lost in thought, but as the elevator dinged with another delivery he watched the resigned envy cross your face once more.

~☆*☆*☆~

The end of the day was nearing. You’d been wondering earlier this morning if you could get away with sneaking out a little early. Luckily the deliveries had slowed down around 2:00, along with the fanfare that came with them. You just had to get through the next 30 minutes and you could head home, put on sweats, and eat the cookie dough that was waiting in the fridge.

A ding from the elevator had you look up, yet another beautiful bouquet walking through the room. It wasn’t as extravagant as some of the ones that had come through today, but it had an understated elegance to it. The sunflowers seemed to glow around the delicate pink roses, a beautiful combination sitting in a clear vase with a white ribbon tied around it. You weren’t sure who they were for, it seemed most of the desks in the office already had flowers or gifts of some kind on it. You were shocked when you heard the young delivery boy say your name. Mary Ellen smiled brightly and pointed your way.

You could feel the heat creeping up your neck as you noticed everyone’s eyes on you, a few of the women bold enough to follow the teen over to your desk. You nodded dumbly as he confirmed your name, setting the flowers down with a mumbled “happy Valentine’s Day.”

“I didn’t know you were seeing anyone!” Selena cooed, brushing her hand lightly against the flowers.

“I-I’m not.” You shook your head, staring at the beautiful flowers.

“A secret admirer?” Mary Ellen gasped, holding her hands under her chin. “That’s so romantic.”

“Is there a card?” Rhonda asked.

“Here!” Selena had found the little piece of cardstock among the stems, handing it over.

You bit your lip as you opened it, having no idea what to expect. You didn’t recognize the penmanship, but it could have easily been written by the florist.

~☆*☆*☆~

“Are you for real?” The guy on the phone laughed, his thick accent mocking Marcus. “It’s the second busiest day of the year and you wanna place an order now? You must be really stupid if you forgot Valentine’s Day.” The man continued to laugh.

“Look, I need it delivered before 5:00.” This was the fourth place he’d called, most of them laughing and hanging up on him. “Is that something you can do?”

“Oooh, that’s gonna cost ya. Big.”

“That’s fine.” Marcus sighed, leaning over to pull his wallet out of his back pocket.

“Okay, we don’t got much left-”

“Sunflowers?” Marcus asked. He wasn’t even sure what drew him to that flower at first, the request was out of his mouth before he really thought about it.

“Gimme a sec.” The man told him, gruff voice fading as Marcus heard him yell. “Hey Martha! We got any sunflowers left?”

Marcus tapped his foot impatiently as he heard the back and forth on the other end of the line.

“Martha’s got sunflowers. Says she’s got a few extra pink roses she can throw in with ‘em. That work?”

“Yes! Perfect!”

“Whatd’ya want on the card?”

“The card?” Marcus parroted. He hadn’t thought about writing anything.

“You’re orderin’ a last minute bouquet, you better become Shakespeare real fuckin’ quick if you wanna stay out of the doghouse, loverboy.”

“Uhh…” He stuttered trying to find the right words.

“I ain’t got all day.” The man huffed. “Second busiest day of the year.” He reminded him.

“Uh, make it say… uh…”

~☆*☆*☆~

“Some may be intimidated by your shine But someone will come along and make you shine even brighter And they will be worth the wait”

“Wow.” Rhonda swooned. “That’s so sweet.”

“Is it signed from anyone?” Selena asked.

“No. That’s it.” You shrugged, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. It was beautiful.

“Oooh, secret admirer! Mary Ellen, you were right!” Rhonda sang. “This is so exciting.”

“Who do you think it is?” Anton leaned over from his desk to ask. You hadn’t even realized he was listening in.

“I-I have no idea.” You stuttered. It was true. “I wish I knew, so I could thank them or something.”

“Something alright.” Selena purred, making everyone shriek and giggle as you flushed.

“Alright, what’s going on here?” The voice cut through the giggles, making everyone sober up. Marcus was standing just outside his office door, hands in his pockets.

“Nothing. Just some Valentine’s Day magic.” Rhonda trilled. The giggles resumed, much quieter this time, as everyone fluttered back to their own desks to return to work.

“Sorry.” You bit your lip, embarrassed that the excitement had disrupted your boss.

“It’s okay.” Marcus chuckled, toeing at the carpet of the office for a moment. “Just don’t let it happen again.” He teased with a grin, putting you at ease.

“Yessir, Special Agent Pike.” You mock saluted, making him chuckle.

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“You too.”

tagging: @wickedfrsgrl

#Marcus Pike #Marcus Pike x Reader #Marcus Pike x Female Reader #Marcus Pike Imagine #The Mentalist Fanfic #Marcus Pike Fanfic #Pedro Pascal Character fanfiction #WookieTales #Actually super nervous to post this one #because my lack of familiarity with the source #so like hope you like it?

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incorrectbatfam · 4 years

Note

do you have any fic recs in which dames would call his brothers akhi or something equally sweet & their reactions??

I don’t have any fic recs (there are probably some out there but I can’t remember).

However, this ask (along with some other stuff) reminded me to get off my lazy butt and write something I’ve been meaning to get to.

It’s a baby Damian fanfic that sort of relates to this ask.

Preview below the cut.

As Jason pulled into the Batcave, he wanted to do nothing more than dive under his duvet and close his eyes for the next week. He shook the gray Gotham sludge-snow from his chilled, aching body. It felt like the Batmobile had hit him and left to freeze into a popsicle in a ditch.

He sent his disregards to the Rogue’s gallery as he hung his helmet on the hook and peeled off his wet shirt. The vent both warmed him up and raised goosebumps on his skin, as though Thomas and Martha Wayne’s spirits got tired of sitting around decided to finally start haunting the place. Jason groaned. Stupid annoying old people ghosts.

Jason was positive he had a concussion. He got knocked around his fair share and was sleep-deprived enough to hallucinate. How else could he explain the sudden presence of a baby crying? In fact, it hadn’t gone away since he entered the Cave.

It wasn’t until after he hung his costume to dry and tugged on his sweats did Jason notice everyone gathered around the Batcomputer. Or more specifically, the Batcomputer chair.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

Dick spun around, a white splotch in the center of his suit’s logo, like a bird shat on him. “Little Wing! You’re back.”

“Excellent observation, Captain Duh.” He moved to see the thing behind Dick’s back, but Dick moved to cover it. Jason threw his hands up. “What the hell, Dickhead? Just lemme see.”

He shoved his brother aside.

His jaw dropped.

Swaddled in the black-and-yellow cape, a baby sat in the seat, scowling at the surrounding people—Tim especially. (And honestly, Jason would do the same.) The oversized hood obscured the baby’s eyes. Jason moved it aside.

His breath hitched.

Jason shook his head. This wasn’t happening. His eyes were fooling him—he was sleep-deprived and seeing things. Or maybe it was a trick of the light. There was no way…

“Damian?”

As though to confirm Jason’s suspicions, the baby turned at the sound of his name.

“How the f—”

“Language,” Dick warned. “There are kids present.”

“Newest Gotham villain,” Tim said. “A time-manipulating sorcerer who gets a kick out of aging and de-aging people. The brat got hit protecting a civilian.”

“Where are Bats and Alfie?”

“Bruce is seeing if Zatanna can reverse this and Alfred’s grabbing baby supplies,” said Dick.

“You think he still remembers everything?”

Dick shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine”

Jason crouched to Damian’s level. His eyes met Damian’s—twin planets lush with life, untouched by humankind, just as Jason remembered, before the League’s razing. They stared, each daring the other to blink first. Jet black tufts stuck up in haphazard spikes, as though they couldn’t agree on a direction to flow. One thing that didn’t change was the way Damian’s cheeks puffed out indignantly. Jason had to admit, it was sort of cute.

Fist balled, Damian leaned forward and bopped Jason on the forehead. Backing away, Jason rubbed the spot.

“Kid still packs a punch,” he said. “So how long ‘till we can change him back?”

As if on cue, Bruce emerged in his full grim-dark bat-cape glory. “Zatanna said she can reverse it, but she won’t be able to get here until tomorrow.”

Dick turned to Damian, voice raised an octave. He pinched Damian’s cheek. “You hear that, Baby Bat? Looks like we’re gonna have ourselves some fun.”

That earned him a slap.

Read the rest on Ao3

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byorder-fanfic · 3 years

Text

How They Look After You When it Gets Bad: Esme

Preference Masterlist

Word count: 1541

Warnings: reader going through a hard time, a small mention of anti-romanism and John's infidelity

Author's Note: I LOVE ESME SO MUCH! But I also love jesme so in this they're both still married and alive. You can interpret this as a platonic or poly relationship, or however else you like! Hope you enjoy

(Gif by @lotsoffandomimagines)

Esme knew how to hear the words unspoken. She was well acquainted with interpreting the stares she got when she travelled with her family in their not-English traditional clothes and painted caravans. It always screamed at her when the slurs were stuck on their tongues, hung on by a thread. She had to learn quickly how to weed out those with good intentions, and those with bad. This skill served her well when she married John. As a Shelby, deceit was everywhere- in the family and out. As a mother, she soon learned the unspoken language of her step-children, always knowing how they felt from their cautious glances and wild, flickering eyes. As a wife, she soon figured out what John's downcast eyes meant when she asked about the long shifts, or the lipstick on his collar. She always wondered if he saw her little mannerisms and interpreted them like she had, making a little note of them in her mind like a treasure. Or, did he just see her as the wild woman he was promised?

Just like John, you were easy for her to decode. But, this time, it wasn't until her one and a half year old, Martha, came up to her and tugged at her sleeve that she realised she needed a little help.

"Mummy!" She whined, making Esme smile softly as she crouched down to be at the same height as her daughter. "Y/N. Sad."

She spat the words out harshly, but it was enough to get Esme nodding her head. If the message wasn't as troubling as it was, she probably would've whooped and yelled with pride. Her and John had been waiting for their little'n to start making sentences ever since she began garbling and chirping like her Uncle Arthur after one too many beers. John would want to hear her when he got home from work. But, first, she had to make sure you were alright. She sent Martha to go and play with her older brother Lee and the rest of John's kids in the garden, running around the expanse of the green field with spaniels nipping at their heels. The little girl giggled as the eldest, Louise, grabbed her little chubby hand and helped her catch up with the older ones. Seeing them at ease and safe made her relax for a moment before she went back inside, turning her head over her shoulder to make sure they were all still there in their game of chase.

It felt colder as soon as she walked in, without the sun shining on her face. Her bare feet padded along the wooden floors, her dress floating around her as she walked through the long corridor. She still couldn't help but trail her fingertips down the wallpaper, admiring each painting and ornament like it was the first time she'd seen it- there was still a disbelief in her that this was hers. That she lived here. That every corridor she walked down in bare feet was hers to walk in, that all of those fields down to the stream were hers to run in, along with the children, that in the stables there were horses to feed and take care of. She still couldn't believe that every breath of fresh air she took wasn't the smoke and smog of Small Heath. They may have had a rocky beginning, but John had gotten their family a good life. Out of the bloody Peaky Blinders and into the sunlight. But that didn't mean nothing was the same anymore.

You were sat on the sofa, legs tucked underneath you as the baby Sophie was held to your chest. Ever since she had learned she could roll over, she had been attempting to make every moment a chance to show it off. Thus, the Moses basket was considered a liability, and there was no way either Esme or Joh was gonna but a crib in every single room in this house. So, being held was the only way to keep her still. You were looking out of the window, smiling at the children as they started to race each other. The smile didn't quite reach your eyes. You had been quieter than normal, she supposed, but she hadn't seen that look for some time now.

"Hey," she brushed her hand against your shoulder as she spoke, knowing that startling you would lead to an almighty scream from the sleepy baby. "How is she?"

"She keeps on looking at the rest of them," you said, nodding out of the window. "Think she wants to join them."

"Oh, well, she's gonna have to wait a while for that." Esme lightly brushed her thumb over her daughter's cheek, seeing her head start to loll into your shoulder.

"Do you wanna join them?" She asked, plainly. "You've been cooped up in here. You should come out, get some sunlight."

"Yeah," you said hesitantly, "I will do."

She took the baby from your arms, surprisingly able to keep her sleeping as she slowly tottered into the corridor. You immediately followed her, led by the soft patter of feet on the floor. As you went outside, the Sun berated down on you in an unexpected heat that prickled your skin. Just as the sudden change in temperature startled you, it quickly eased into a soothing, soaking feeling of warmth that made you take a deep breath. The smell of grass and fresh air halted you on the front door step, just getting a moment of peace and quiet. Only a moment, though.

"Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!" The kids yelled, forcing you to open your eyes and smile down at them as they swarmed at the end of the stone path. Esme had taken Sophie and sat on the garden table, head bent back as she enjoyed the sunlight.

"Can you come play with us?" Lee asked, just as George gave him a soft nudge in the ribs.

"We're not playing! We're racing." He said it proudly, puffing out his chest like the living imitation of his father.

"Racing?" You made an exaggerated tone of excitement that didn't quite match the tiredness you felt. "Where to?"

"The stream!" Katie giggled, obviously excited, as she pointed over to the far away line of grey.

"All the way there!" You shook your head. "Isn't that a little far?"

You looked over at the toddler Martha who, despite Louise's best efforts to distract her with the flowers, was determined to join in with the rest of her older brothers and sisters.

"It'll be fine." Esme yelled from where she sat, rocking the baby in her arms. "Martha can sit here with us two and help me call out the winner."

The little girl seemed enamoured with the idea, immediately waddling over to the table and allowing Louise to join in with all of her younger siblings. With a bit of help from her mum, Martha climbed and wiggled her way onto the seat, immediately standing up to pat at Sophie's bare head. Esme held an arm around her second youngest to keep her steady as she nodded over to the rest of you.

The kids all went into a line and you were dragged along with them as they bent their knees in ready position and each of them put on a comically serious expressions. There were a few squabbles about someone had got their toe over the imaginary line, or so and so was cheating, but you managed to keep them all pacified and ready.

"On your marks!" Esme began.

You felt a smile tugging at your lips that couldn't be bitten back or flattened out.

"Get set!"

Your heartbeat was thrumming with just as much excitement as the kids, taking a deep breath as you got ready for that final command.

"Go!"

Almost as soon as the first syllable had uttered, the lot of you broke out of the line and thundered forward. Being that bit older, you decided to go a little slower, but still bounded in the middle. Louise and Jack were right at the front, throwing their heads back and sticking their tongues out at each other as they tried to gain a definitive lead. Esme and Martha were whooping and cheering as the lot of you stumbled over the great field. You were laughing so hard between your breaths, slowing down and reaching out a hand so you and Lee would scurry after the rest of them, who had managed to fly ahead of you. You wold say that you let them, since you were that much older, and you wanted to make sure little Lee wasn't at the back all by himself. However, Esme could see your toothy, wide smile that probably caught as many flies as it did big, huge chuckles that made you pause and run that bit slower. She could see your cheeks glowing from something other than the exercise and warmth, your shining eyes growing soft and excitable as you tried to hurry Lee on to chase the rest of them. You were happy.

Esme saw things clearly- all you ever needed was a bit of fun of laughter and, most importantly, love.

#esme shelby #esme shelby fanfiction #esme shelby x reader #esme shelby imagine #esme shelby fanfic #esme shelby preference #esme shelby fluff #peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders preference #peaky blinders fluff #john shelby #john shelby x esme shelby #jesme

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hadtochangemyurlquick · 3 years

Text

here’s 5.7k of the unsinkable 8 during the zombie apocalypse. good for fans of leatin and goodfoe. it’s super unedited and i’m mainly just posting it for fun cause i finished it today. some references to world war z the book for fun, and i used the zombies from that too.

A flash of blonde and Dot’s gun went up, pointed directly at the head of whatever made their way toward her. She had two bullets left, six cigarettes, and the last mini of hard liquor she raided from the motel back in Aquilla.

She’d have to get it in one shot, which would be hard sitting down, with her back to it, half delirious.

She grunted as she pulled herself around, her leg still out in the makeshift splint. The zed crept closer, not going at the usual hobbling pace. It definitely had caught her scent though, maybe it was down a few limbs already.

She cocked her gun, flicking off the safety, keeping her finger off the trigger. She’d wait until she could see the whites of its eyes. Get it in one shot.

The blonde head crept closer and she finally tucked her gun over the rocks, making eye contact with it for the first time.

“Shelby Goodkind?”

“Dot Campbell?”

Shelby stared at her, lowering her own gun and Dot let out a breath of relief.

“Dottie, oh my god, I thought you were one of ‘em.” She put away her gun, Dot doing the same and she ran over. “It’s so good to see ya, what’s wrong?” She looked at the leg, her face paling.

“Ankles broken,” Dottie muttered. “Was gonna treat myself to one last drink,” she gestured at the bottle.

“Oh lord,” Shelby said. “Well that’s no good, I got a place not to far from here I’ve been camping out in. Some first aid stuff too.”

“I can’t give you anything back for it,” Dot said.

“We both know two people are more likely to make it,” Shelby said.

She looked sunburned and hollowed out, a little hungrier than the last time Dot saw her, headed with her family to that military base. She was alone, and desperate, everyone was. Because here was how it went in Texas. You could trust a stranger as far as you could throw ‘em, but you needed people to live. So if you had people, you lived. And Dot was people, or as close to people as Shelby was willing to get. She musta lost a lot to lower her standards so far.

“Alright,” Dot said. “We’re gonna have to go slow and you’re gonna have to carry a lot of shit.”

“No problem,” Shelby beamed.

Back at the camp, an old rusting trailer with some battery Shelby told her she was saving for a rainy day, Shelby re-splinted her, fed and watered her, and they pooled their resources. Twenty-six cigs now, which might get ‘em a few hours in a safe car north, if they wanted it. Or it might get ‘em some food, or a get out of jail free card, depending on the hunger of the people hunting ‘em.

It was late at night when Dot realized she hadn’t even asked yet.

“Family’s gone then?”

“Yeah,” Shelby said. “You?”

“My dad died before this shit show,” Dot said.

“Lucky,” Shelby said. She took a swig from the mini, and passed it over to Dot. “What’s your plan?”

“I heard there was a safer spot near San Antonio,” Dot said. “Running water and shit.”

Shelby shook her head, “Gone, three weeks ago. Heard it on the radio.”

Dot nodded, “What about you?”

“Radio said Hawaii’s better,” Shelby said. “There’s an operation ferrying people there on the west coast. It’s a thousand cigs per person. But there’s work by the dock if you’re willing to do it.”

“Work for you?” Dot asked.

Shelby’s jaw tightened, “I’ll do what I have to do. Lord forgive me.”

Dot sighed, “Sounds like we go west then.”

They hung around in the trailer for three days, pushing the limits of what was safe, and stumbled on to a new place in the area at daybreak on the fourth day. Dot’s ankle wasn’t broken, with the inflatable cast Shelby had in a week or so she’d be something regarding useful, and as long as she didn’t push herself she’d be more than fine.

Spending time with Shelby Goodkind was another story. For one thing, despite the zombie apocalypse, complete destruction of their lives and modern society, the death of her family and everyone in their town, Shelby was still good and kind. She’d clutch at the cross around her neck every time they’d pass a body, and would never touch one, even the ones that were recent and obviously not stripped clean. It made Dot kinda mad, she found five cigs just walking, and she wondered how many Shelby passed off being squeamish.

But Shelby also wasn’t squeamish, wasn’t afraid to take down a zed with a kitchen knife, and with that same hand wipe the gore off Dot all gentle. She called her Dottie, gave her the last blanket, and always volunteered for the first shift so Dot could watch the sunrise. Dot hadn’t been cared for in a long while, hadn’t been around people in even longer. She decided she might love it.

But Shelby was a magnet, always had been, she talked about god’s light long enough that she got Dot believing it all fell on her. It wasn’t a real surprise when she showed up with a stray.

“What the fuck,” Dot said. “Did you kidnap a child?”

“I did not kidnap a child,” Shelby said, picking the girl up with some difficulty and lifting her onto the backseat of the broken down minivan they were holed up in.

“I sent you out to get sunscreen,” Dot said. “How did you come back with a child?”

“She’s our age,” Shelby said. “I think. And listen, I found her barricaded in a utility closet with a bad fever, I knew we had some tablets but I didn’t wanna leave her.”

“Like bite fever?” Dot asked. “We don’t have enough bullets to—”

“No,” Shelby shook her head, “Look,” she gently unwrapped a bandage around the girl’s arm, revealing a bad slice. “It’s infected. Not a bite. We’re okay.”

Dot sighed and nodded. The girl’d probably try and rob ‘em blind but if they watched her hands and got away fast enough they should be fine. They’d be fine.

“You’re more trouble than you’re worth,” Dot muttered. Shelby smiled, all sweet and gentle and bright and Dot rolled her eyes.

The girl took the tablets, they washed and changed the bandages, after about fourteen hours she blinked awake, unfortunately while Dot was on watch.

“Who—who are you?”

“Dot Campbell,” she said.

The girl stared at her.

“My friend saved your ass,” Dot said. “Shelby.”

“Um,” the girl inched back, “Why? Where am I?”

“We’re on the twenty-two, not from from the ten-eighty,” Dot told her. “You got a nasty infection there, got any cigs?”

“No, I don’t smoke.”

Dot blinked at her. “Alright then.”

“My friends will be looking for me,” the girl said. “I should get back to them.” She didn’t have an accent, Dot realized, not even a thin one like her own.

“Shelby found you around Mr. K’s, we can draw you a map if you’d like,” Dot said. “Where you from?”

“Austin,” the girl lied, badly.

“Alright then,” Dot said again. “Well we’ll draw you a map in the mornin and you can leave a day break. It ain’t far.”

“Thank you,” the girl said. “For helping me.”

“Shelby’s idea,” Dot said. Neither of ‘em slept the whole time, the girl smart enough to keep an eye out, and Dot’s whole job to watch out. She woke Shelby up when she was supposed to and easily muddled into a slumber.

A nice thing, about the zombie apocalypse, was Dot had gotten a lot better at sleeping. She used to stay up for hours thinking ‘bout how she’d pay the bills, how much her dad’s meds cost, whether he was coughing more that night than he did most nights, but now she hit whatever soft looking rock she decided to call a pillow and conked out until Shelby woke her. Shelby, on the other hand, barely slept a wink, shooting up at the slightest sign of trouble, even when Dot was on watch. Too much time on her own, Dot’d guess.

Before Shelby Mateo wandered with Dot. He was quiet and sweet and she had took care of him as best she could. Shelby didn’t have nobody before Dot. Just her dead parents, and if Dot remembered eighth grade soccer well enough, a couple of dead siblings too.

So Dot pretty much conked out and missed the way the girl and Shelby giggled all night. But even she wasn’t blind to their bond when she woke, the way the girls smiled easily at one another, laughed with each other, kept up with each other.

“Dottie,” Shelby said. “Martha,” so that was the stranger’s name “said you told her we could draw her a map but Mr. K’s ain’t far, we might as well take her.”

Dot grunted, she didn’t wanna waste a day but it wasn’t like Mr. K’s would take all day and they might as well see if they could find any more cigs. She hadn’t met any non-smokers in a long while. Apocalypse sorta took the fun out of being straight-edge, if Dot had to guess.

Dot took the back, a metal bat out and ready, and Shelby and Martha took the front. Shelby had a makeshift spear made, good for longer range, but worse up close, and she gave Martha the other bat they had. To borrow, Dot had emphasized.

One of the other things that never got old about the apocalypse, was walking up a highway. Walking straight up that middle line, knowing no one would dare drive a car ‘round there. It felt like the world was yours and empty, like you were finding it, rebuilding it, building it. It was as close to a cowboy as she had felt since her daddy let her ride on his back. It was as close to free as she had ever felt.

They got back to Mr. K’s and Dot saw the approaching figures first, aiming her rifle right at ‘em, safety off and gun cocked, but her finger off the trigger. It was Shelby’s hunting rifle, actually, but she had handed it to Dot first chance she had, looking kinda pale. She had Dot’s old handgun now, useless with this kinda range.

“Live ones?” Shelby asked.

“Can’t tell,” Dot said. “Just kinda standing there.”

“They could be waiting for me,” Martha said. Dot glanced at her, hoping the girl wasn’t actually as naive as she seemed. She probably was.

They walked as close as they dared, before Martha was able to confirm that yes it was her friends.

She ran at ‘em and one of ‘em collided with her, slamming her into a hug. There were two more, just kinda watching Dot and Shelby.

“We should go,” Dot said. “We did what we said.”

“Dottie,” Shelby said.

Dot sighed and the two of ‘em trudged up to the happy pair, reuniting like they had been separated for years, decades, instead of a few hours. It was a miracle they were reunited at all, Mateo said he’d meet her back at the camp in an hour and she had to bash his head in six months later with a sledge hammer.

“Who’re your friends, Martha?” One of the other people asked. It was four girls counting Martha, lucky, none of ‘em white, but they all looked around the same age as Dot and Shelby.

“This is Shelby,” Martha grinned, “And Dot.”

Dot nodded at them.

“I am just so pleased to make your acquaintance,” Shelby smiled, holding out her hand to the girl who still had an arm wrapped around Martha.

“This is Toni,” Martha said, squeezing the girl’s side when she didn’t take Shelby’s hand. “And Rachel and Nora.”

“Ah,” Shelby smiled, “Toni your sister right?”

Martha nodded, Toni glared. “Yeah it’s great to meet you or whatever. There a reason you kidnapped Martha?”

“I saw her passed out and worried she was alone,” Shelby explained. “I knew we had some tablets back at the camp but—”

“What do you want?” Rachel asked. “We got about six hundred if that’s—” Martha from Austin, Dot’s ass. Money hadn’t meant shit in Texas for awhile. These kids were from up north, probably pretty far up north too. Maine or some shit. Delaware.

“Got any cigs?” Dot asked.

“Yes,” Nora said. “We have a couple packs.”

“Great,” Dot held out her hands and two packs were dropped into them. Nora didn’t make eye contact the entire time, her hands fidgeting with anything. She was covered in scabs and scars, picking at her own skin probably.

“Where y’all headed?” Shelby asked.

“None of your business,” Toni said.

“Apparently the San Antonio Zone relocated to Tyler,” Martha said. “We heard some people talking about it last week.”

“Y’all got a radio?” Dot asked.

Martha shook her head.

“If you had one you’d know that that’s what they’re pulling now, telling people to go to Tyler, they shoot you as soon as you step foot in Athens.”

“So where are you guys headed?” Rachel demanded.

“West,” Shelby said. “Radio says they’re ferrying clean folks to Hawaii. It’s an island so.”

“Clean how?” Rachel asked, taking a step forward and lifting her jaw.

Dot sighed.

Shelby’s eyes widened, “Clean as in not infected, I mean.”

“Chill,” Rachel smiled, all thin, “I was kidding.”

“Great,” Dot said. “Not that this hasn’t been fun, but we should be going.”

“Wait,” Martha said. “It’s just, we might as well go west too. And we might as well go west together.”

“Marty,” Toni grabbed her by her uninjured arm, “I wanna talk to you for a moment.”

They got into a whispered argument for a few minutes. Rachel joined and it escalated but Martha came out on top, smiling as she approached them.

“We might as well go together,” she repeated.

Shelby’s smile was just as wide, “We would be alighted to have you.”

The new girls were a nightmare. Rachel and Nora, sisters as Dot would learn, hated one another. And by hated Dot meant, had a complicated relationship of love without trust or mutual respect. Nora didn’t trust Rachel, Rachel didn’t respect Nora, and they were constantly going at one another. Toni had some sorta toxic jealousy thing going on, despising Shelby because she was monopolizing Martha. She also tended to fly into these rages, making her wander off for long periods that had Dot itching to grab her gun and demanding the girl strip to check for bites. Mateo’s dad used to do the same thing, wander off to check his bite.

Shelby also was wholly focused on two things now: Martha, and Toni’s hate. Dot ambled along behind all of ‘em, keeping the sisters from killing each other, Toni’s voice down, and everyone else alive.

The worst part was it took Dot nearly three days before she caught sight of it.

“You have one hand,” Dot glared at Rachel. Rachel slung the pack over her shoulder.

“You’re just noticing that now?” Rachel asked. “I must be getting better with it.”

“The fuck happened?” Dot said.

“My hand got bit,” Rachel shrugged. “Cut it off before it spread, didn’t even know it would work.”

Dot whistled, low and quiet, like they were all used to being.

“I cut it off,” Nora corrected, sullenly.

Rachel rolled her eyes.

“I’m still quicker on the draw than you,” Rachel said, the words clunky in her mouth.

Dot set her jaw, “So y’all are sticking with the story that you’re from Austin?”

“We’re from New York,” Nora said. Rachel glared at her. “What? You think some group would waste three days on four teenage girls?”

“New York?” Dot asked. “Everyone knows it’s safer up north, why the hell are you down here?”

“You hear about Yonkers?” Rachel asked.

Dot shook her head.

“It was the last op the US military set up before they fell apart. We’d made it out by then but we watched it happen on the news. Someone in a group we had still had a phone and the whole thing was live streamed. All of the death. The group were supposed to go to some military bases up in Canada but we wanted a wide open space with plenty of guns.”

“Texas,” Dot said.

Rachel nodded.

“Stupid,” Dot told her. “You probably came for San Antonio too.”

Rachel sighed, “Nobody was gonna survive those Canadian winters without a base, and we weren’t sure we were gonna get one. Rather get bit than freeze.”

“How’d you meet Toni and Martha?” Dot asked.

“Toni and I got into a fistfight over some Takis,” Rachel said.

Dot nodded, “Fuego?”

“Fuego.”

And yeah they were a nightmare but quicker than Dot wanted they became her nightmare. Still though, she dragged Shelby away from Martha and Toni’s sides, and muttered, “we can still go. Ditch if you want. Whenever. We don’t know ‘em.”

Shelby, in high school, woulda been scandalized, muttered some bible passage at her. This Shelby was a little more grown and only looked at her all serious.

“You knew what I was when you picked me up,” she said. “And I knew what Martha was. We’ll face our consequences, I reckon.”

Dot nodded.

Walking all day, everyday, wasn’t easy stuff. Especially since they had to strip as many bodies as they could find. Nora figured it out pretty quick, mumbling something to Rachel who recruited Toni to storm over to Dot.

“You don’t smoke them, but you’re hoarding them,” Rachel said. “Why?”

Dot kept her easy pace. “These things are currency now, the value’ll only go up over time.”

“Currency for what?” Toni asked. “What are you trying to buy?”

“You think a ferry to Hawaii is free?” Dot asked. “I’m saving for all of us.”

“Dottie,” Shelby walked over, Martha sticking by Nora, “What’s up?”

“How much?” Toni asked. “Really, how much?”

“A hundred each,” Dot said, too quickly.

“Try again,” Rachel said.

“Dot,” Shelby got between them, looking at Dot. “Thou shalt not lie, right? Tell ‘em the truth.” Dot glared at her and Shelby turned back around to Rachel. “It’s five hundred each. We got about a hundred now, so no one’s going to Hawaii.”

“What if there aren’t enough?” Toni asked. “Who decides then?”

“We’ll draw straws,” Shelby said.

It was as easy a solution as anything but the tenseness started building up, Rachel and Toni viewing Dot with more suspicion. It’d fade, over time, Dot knew. Or they’d all die.

The worst it got, was actually Shelby’s doing, the easy peace maker of it all. They hadn’t bothered building a fire, despite how cold and exposed it got in Texas at night, but they huddled together between three cars they found abandoned along the highway that they pushed into a triangle. Someone got to the seat cushions of all three first, so there was nothing comfortable to lie their heads on. It was easy for Dot though, the asphalt as soft as anything to her now.

They stayed up later than they should’ve talking. Trading stories about their old life that all of them knew weren’t doing any good. Toni played basketball, was pretty good at it too. Rachel had a skill for swimming she’d never have again. Nora did quiz bowl, surprising no one. Dot talked about metal, fishing with her dad, what types of pills sold for what. Martha was a dancer, and a vegetarian once. It was something that made ‘em all crack up. When humans become man eating beasts, and once upon a time there were jokes online about vegans. Shelby talked about the yearbook, mission trips, Andrew.

But then cause Shelby started it by prattling on about Andrew Toni got it in her head to talk about Regan and Shelby was talking about Leviticus.

The next morning, Rachel quietly pulled Dot aside and told her to take all the cigarettes and head out. That they could make their own way west. Dot didn’t ask for an invitation to go with her.

They split off at the twenty-five, Dot and Shelby heading for the forty, Toni, Martha, Rachel, and Nora heading for the sixty.

Shelby was heartbroken for a few days, apologetic too, and grateful. Dot didn’t let her have any of that, only said, “It’s cause we’re from the same town. We might be the only ones from there left.”

They trudged on.

In Arizona Dot found the love of her life, her soulmate, Fatin Jadmani. In a completely straight way too. Fatin matched her tit for tat, spoke a language Dot hadn’t realized she’d been born knowing. Her girlfriend was an anxious woman named Leah, who Shelby got on with. Dot had worried, upon bringing the two back to camp, that Shelby would chase ‘em away again, but she hadn’t. Just smiled at the two of them, easily offering up a couple granola bars.

Whenever tenseness came about Fatin just laughed, and Leah rolled her eyes. It wasn’t perfect, Dot knew, there was too much hate for that, but it would last ‘em long enough. The four of ‘em just worked in this great lovely way.

Only problem was their destination.

“We barely managed to get out of LA,” Leah mumbled, she hugged her legs, her head leaning on Fatin’s shoulder.

“LA?” Shelby asked. “That’s where we’re headed.”

“What the fuck?” Fatin glared at Dot, “Dorthy I thought you had more sense than that.”

“There’s some military guys ferrying people to Hawaii,” Dot said.

“Where’d you hear that, the radio?” Fatin asked. She sighed at their nods, “They’re broadcasting out to whoever will hear it, but there is no ferry to Hawaii. The entire thing is just selling and shipping as many girls out as possible. We have no idea where though.”

“So when you say you barely made it out,” Dot said.

Fatin’s face was grim.

“We have to warn ‘em,” Shelby said.

“Warn who?” Dot asked.

“Toni and the others! They don’t know!” Shelby stood up. “I’ll plot out the course now and we’ll start out fresh tomorrow. We aren’t leaving ‘em to—to—we aren’t leaving ‘em.” She stormed off and Dot watched her go.

“She wants to go towards LA to help some motherfuckers who kicked you out of their group?” Fatin asked.

“Yeah,” Dot said.

“Are you gonna go with her?” Leah asked.

“I knew what she was when I picked her up,” Dot said.

“What do you wanna do?” Leah asked Fatin.

Fatin pressed her cheek to Leah’s head, “I don’t know if I can risk you.” Fatin looked at Dot, “Are you gonna be stupid?”

“No,” Dot said.

“Then we’ll come,” Fatin sighed. “Leah that okay?” Leah nodded.

Neither of ‘em were as good at offing zed as Shelby and Dot. Fatin was decent at finding stuff though, scoping stuff, and Leah had endurance none of the rest of ‘em could match. She was like a zed sometimes, just kept going, could keep going, until her knees wore down to dust and then she’d crawl, crawl until her fingers wore down to nubs and then she’d inch, inch until something put her out of her misery. It terrified Fatin and Shelby, but Dot couldn’t help being impressed.

So Dot ambled after Shelby toward Bethlehem on the forty but they were gonna leap back on the interstate and hopefully head ‘em off. Hopefully Martha, Toni, Rachel, and Nora’d be alive, and they’d find ‘em. And if they didn’t find ‘em, hopefully they’d be dead. And Shelby stopped sleeping about a day or two into trek. Would just keep staring at the maps and keeping watch, and taking inventory and thumbing around her necklace.

When Dot woke up on the third day of their walk, Shelby’s hair was much shorter and Fatin looked real scared. Shelby kept walking and walking and, in a fit of rage that matched Toni’s, launched her necklace off the highway. She looked like she regretted it after but they had no choice but to keep going.

They passed an arm and it looked like Rachel’s.

Shelby walked faster. Leah had that glint in her eye. Fatin took Dot’s hand and looked very very scared.

After two more days Shelby said fuck it, and found a car with some gas in it and told 'em to get in.

Dot stood in front, “Shelby,” Shelby glared at her, “This’ll attract every body in the fucking country. The sound, the smell, I’m not just talking about the dead ones neither.”

Shelby swallowed hard, “You gonna stay behind then?”

“Shelby,” Dot said. “If you leave me here I’ll get caught up in the hoard. That what you want?”

“Get in the damn car, Dottie!” Shelby said.

“If we get to ‘em in time, but there’s a fucking hoard following us, we won’t have anywhere to go but on,” Dot said. “Fucking think!”

“I am thinking,” Shelby spat back. She shoved Dot, “I’m thinking about Toni, and Martha walking from Minnesota to Texas only to die in California. I’m thinking about Nora and Rachel watching Yonkers fall and then getting shipped off to who knows where. That’s what I’m thinking.”

“Shelby we can make it,” Leah said.

“No we can’t!” Shelby said. “I’ve done the math, I keep looking at these maps, there’s no way we’ll make it in time without a mode of transportation. No car and they die.”

“Then what the fuck are we going there?” Dot asked. “If it’s too late—”

“It is not too late!” Shelby said, her throat was all closed and choked sounding. “I can save ‘em! Jesus fuckin Christ we have to help ‘em!”

“Shelby,” Dot said, she put a hand on her shoulder. “We can’t take a car, and we can’t make it by foot,” Shelby’s face crumpled. “They’re gone, alright? We should be planning our next move.”

“No,” Leah said. She shook her head, “We have to help them.”

“You don’t even know ‘em,” Dot said.

“I’m not letting four innocent girls go through what I nearly went through,” Leah said.

“I’m with Leah,” Fatin said. “We’ll take the car and play it by ear.”

“Play the-hoard-that-will-start-coming-after-us-the-second-we-turn-on-the-engine by ear?” Dot asked.

“Let’s vote,” Shelby said. “All in favor of going?”

Fatin, Leah, and Shelby all raised their hands.

“C’mon,” Dot begged. She looked at Fatin, “You told me not to be stupid!”

“So don’t be stupid,” Fatin said. “Get in the car.”

Dot sighed, wanted to punch something, wanted to cry, was too tired to do either, got in the car.

The car attracted so many fucking zed, they wouldn’t be able to stop, and they had to hope there was enough in the fucking tank to get them to wherever the four were. Dot watched the dead bodies creep closer, at their slow hobbling, relentless pace. Fatin drove, Shelby used her pike to spear any who got too close, Dot watched the maps and steadily got herself into a panic.

They were gonna die trying to save the asses of some girls they spent a couple days with.

This was not what Shelby was when Dot picked her up, this was not what she was. Shelby had gone behind Dot’s back and fucking grown as a person, hadn’t she? How the fuck was Dot gonna get away from her? She’d have to pack Fatin in a suitcase and then Leah too and that would mean entirely abandoning Shelby to be on her lonesome oh god.

Dot was stuck, wasn’t she.

As they kept driving Shelby had to keep spearing zed. It started off as one or two, but as the hours wore on they were leaning on five, six, a steady growing mass ambling behind ‘em.

If that had really been Rachel’s arm, they were probably dead. All of ‘em. Or maybe in the mass behind ‘em. And if they weren’t, they’d hear the car coming and head for the hills, assuming it meant a hoard was close behind. Which it was.

This was such a fucking terrible idea.

“So what, we just wait for a sign to say welcome to LA and then give up? We won’t find ‘em like this,” Dot said.

“Shut up!” Shelby said, she speared another.

“At least check you ain’t offing one of ours,” Dot said. “They could all be zed, for all we know.”

“I said shut up,” Shelby turned to glare at her and a zed slammed against the door. She speared it and Dot’s mouth clamped shut. “We just gotta keep going,” she said. “We’ll be fine, we just gotta keep moving.”

“You’re crazy,” Dot said.

Shelby didn’t have anything to say to that.

It was worse at nightfall, with visibility down, and they just had to keep going, to hope their car wasn’t stripped when they went over the bumps of mutilated corpses still hungry for a last meal.

“We’re almost to LA,” Shelby said. “We got nearly a hundred cigs, we might be able to bribe someone if they jump us.”

Leah snorted.

They were driving through an empty enough part of Nevada though, less corpses hurling themselves off the road and towards them. Still the ever growing mass behind ‘em now, maybe fifty, seventy five, but about twenty out.

“I gotta piss,” Dot said.

“Hurry,” Fatin said.

Dot stumbled out, no one noticing her grabbing her pack. The zed would follow the car, she’d make a clean break. She’d survive.

She was only seven minutes south, judging by the north star Shelby taught her to find when someone’s hand grabbed her. She pulled out her hand gun, jamming it into the head and flicking the safety off.

“Dot! Jesus Christ!”

The girl was wide-eyed, tan, hollowed out, empty and desperate. Reminded her of the empty pill bottles around her house after her dad died.

“Toni?”

Toni nodded, “Why are you here? Fuck that I don’t give a shit, you got water?” Dot handed it to her and Toni downed it. “The other’s are close, c’mon.” She stumbled as she got up, clearly dizzy, and Dot grabbed her forearm.

“We’ve been looking everywhere for you guys,” Dot said.

“Don’t tell me it’s you in the fucking car,” Toni said. “We’ve been running from that thing for ages.”

“I fucking told Shelby,” Dot said.

“Shelby?” Toni asked, she was almost too exhausted to sound disgusted, but she managed it.

“Listen, LA isn’t safe, we found out. They’re not taking kids to Hawaii, they’re taking them.”

Toni went pale, “Fuck.” She even sounded choked now. “Shelby’s having a fucking aneurysm worrying about you so I don’t even think she’s that fucking homophobic. I’ll get everyone back to the car, you tell ‘em I’m coming.”

Toni nodded, stumbling towards the street and Dot walked back to the direction Toni pointed to before she left. Rachel, Nora, and Martha were all in various points of disarray. Exhausted, dehydrated, starving, aching and bleeding. Dot had to half carry, half drag Nora with Martha and Rachel had to get a stick to lean on as they stumbled toward the street.

“We got like ten minutes,” Fatin said. “People are gonna have to double buckle, and before anyone else makes a decision, we’re going north.”

Dot strapped everyone in and found herself sitting next to Shelby who met her eyes in a hundred yard stare.

“You took your pack.”

“Yeah.”

“But you came back.”

“Yeah.”

“Fine.”

They started on again. Dot saw Toni keep sneaking glances at Shelby and Shelby kept sneaking ‘em back.

They weren’t far from Mt. Tobin when the two finally stopped dancing around each other.

Dot convinced everyone to ditch the car near LA, walking as quickly as they could once they did, knowing it’d take awhile to ditch the hoard too. Dot watched Toni talk to Shelby in low tones, Shelby full of apologies and panics and Toni keeping her cool longer than Dot had ever seen it.

Martha took to Fatin quickly, everyone did, and Nora and Leah spent long hours walking beside each other mumbling about books or something. Not anything Dot gave two shits about.

Rachel ambled along with Dot most of the time. Whenever Fatin and Leah were all over each other and Dot didn’t feel like third wheeling. Rachel was always listening to the radio and as time passed it became clear that the two of them were the most capable of keeping everyone alive. And not in a more knowledgable way. Because Nora knew what plants were edible, and Shelby was a better shot. Or in an emotional way, because Fatin and Martha handled that. But in a planning sorta way. Because Dot knew how to get them to point B, while Rachel was working on point E.

“We should go to Washington,” Rachel muttered on one of the late nights they spent keeping watch while they poured over maps. “We might be able to find a boat to Victoria.”

“Victoria?” Rachel pointed her out.

“It’s a Canadian island. Canada lasted a little longer than we did, Victoria might not be in such a bad way.”

“Less guns in Canada,” Dot said. “And there might not be a boat that’ll take us there. Plus, we don’t know the currency.”

“We’re eight teenage girls,” Rachel pointed out. “We stick around so close to Cali, we’re asking for trouble. We need to put an ocean between us and whatever the fuck they’re doing there.”

Dot sighed. So they’d go to Washington.

On the way they’d probably run into another group who’d tell them Washington was overrun but there was something decent in Wisconsin. Half way to Wisconsin someone would tell ‘em their information was bad and they need to get south where there were guns and space. They’d almost be in Georgia when someone would tell ‘em there was some real government up in New York again.

They’d follow pipe dream to pipe dream to pipe dream. They’d probably die young.

Toni curled around Shelby, holding Martha’s hand. Fatin and Leah held on for dear life. Rachel didn’t take her eyes off Nora. Dot watched them all.

Yeah they’d probably die young. Better than dying alone.

#gus writes #the wilds #the wilds fanfic #goodfoe fanfic #shoni #leatin fanfic #leatin #dot campbell #leah rilke #fatin jadmani #shelby goodkind #toni shalifoe #rachel reid #nora reid #martha blackburn #the unsinkable 8 #the unsinkable eight

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sometimesiwritebadly · 4 years

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No Thoughts (Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader)

Summary: After you run into your ex on a case, Spencer’s jealousy causes him to cut you out from his mind. (Soulmate AU)

Warnings: Language. Mentions kidnapping. Also a stupid ex-boyfriend.

Notes: Y’know, i really wish i hadn’t hitched my wagon to the whole “ ____ Thoughts” title scheme. if i had known this was gonna be my most successful series on this website i would’ve done something better. but it’s too late now so. anyways this takes place after Overwhelming and before Life-Saving. It’s angsty but don’t worry there’s some fluff at the end. Also i kinda wanted to yell at spencer for how annoying he’s being in this one but then i remembered that i made him act that way so don’t be too mad at me

Word Count: 1.7k

Soulmate Series Masterlist

Masterlist

You’re 3 months into a relationship with Spencer Reid, your soulmate, and you couldn’t be happier. It hasn't been the easiest getting used to having another person in your head, but both you and Spencer have gotten a pretty good handle on controlling your rogue thoughts. It definitely wasn’t perfect, but even the worst days with Spencer were still miles ahead of any day you’d had without him.

You and Spencer were at his apartment, enjoying a rare day off. You were rewatching Doctor Who and cuddling on his couch, arguing over the best and worst companions.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love Martha! I just think her being in love with the Doctor was stupid!” You said, laughing at Spencer’s shocked face.

“Stupid? That was brilliant! It showed how the Doctor isn’t this perfect guy like the show made him out to be with Rose!”

“No, it just made it seem like the Doctor was irresistible! It made him seem even more perfect, which is why Donna-” Spencer, scoffed, knowing where your argument was heading, “Is the best companion! She’s the only one who doesn’t want to fuck him!”

Spencer opened his mouth to protest, but was interrupted by his phone ringing. He grabbed it, and once he saw who was on the other side, put it on speaker. “Hey JJ, what’s up?”

“We have a case. Hotch wants everyone here in 30 so we can brief on the plane. Is Y/N with you?”

“Always. We’ll see you soon, JJ.” You responded. Spence hung up the phone and stoof from the couch, before turning back to you and holding out a hand to help you off the couch. “I guess I’ll have to prove you wrong later.”

~~~

After a 6 hour flight, the BAU landed in Seattle. On the plane, Hotch had explained that there had been 3 children taken, all within an hour of each other, from 3 different homes in the area. It’s their job to determine if it’s one unsub, a group, or isolated incidents. After dropping off all their things at the hotel, they made their way to the police station. When they walked in, however, they were greeted by the last person Y/N wanted to see. “Oh fuck me.” She thought.

“What’s wrong?” Spencer had heard her, and was immediately concerned. So much for having control over her thoughts. Before she could answer, the reason for her worry began speaking.

“Nice to meet you all, I’m Detective Rothschild. If you guys need anything, I’ll be the one to help-” He cut himself off when his eyes landed on you. “Y/N? I didn’t know you were in the BAU now, How’ve you been?” The whole team had their gaze turned to you now. You could hear Spencer’s questions about the detective flying through your head, but you ignored them all.

“I’m good James. We can catch up after we find the kids.” And just like that, the topic was dropped. Finding those kids within the first 24 hours was the most important thing right now, but that didn’t stop Spencer’s thoughts. No matter what was going on, Spencer was in your mind, asking you about James.

“C’mon just tell me how you know each other! I promise I’ll focus on the case.” His question entered your mind as the two got ready to head to one of the crime scenes.

“Spence, I told you earlier, we went to college together.”

“Ok, but that’s not all. Why won’t you tell me?”

“I just don’t like talking about it! Please, can we discuss this some other time?” You answered him out loud this time, just to get your point across. You knew you’d have to tell him about your relationship with James, but you would much rather do it when the two of you are alone and not in a police precinct in the middle of a case. Before you could walk out the door and head to the crime scene, you heard someone calling your name. When you turned around, you found James walking towards you. “Great,” You thought.

“Hey, I’ll come with you guys to the crime scene, I haven’t been to this one yet. Plus, I’ll finally get the chance to catch up with Y/N here!” As he spoke, James’ arm found its way over your shoulder. You could practically feel Spencer’s anger.

“Right, well, uh, let’s get going then. I’ll drive.” You subtly pushed James’ hand off your shoulder before speed-walking over to the car.

~~~

The drive to the crime scene was tense, to say the least. James had no problem filling the silence with anecdotes from your college days, which all suggested that the two of you were slightly more than friends. Sure, you and Spencer had talked about your respective previous relationships before, but it was a whole different ball game to be sitting next to your ex-boyfriend and your soulmate.

“Babydoll, you remember when we went to that frat party? We played strip beer pong, and let’s just say she was not very good at the game…” James went on and on, not stopping to let anyone else speak. All you could do was reassure Spencer with your thoughts, but he wasn’t responding. In fact, Spencer hadn’t let a single thought slip throughout the whole ride, and you were more than a little worried. A couple months ago you and Spencer had promised to not shut each other out, and this was the longest you’d gone without hearing any of his thoughts since then. Sure, it was only a 20 minutes drive, but you missed him. By the time you were pulling up to the crime scene, it was clear he’d had enough. The second the car stopped, Spencer practically jumped out and made his way to the crime scene, not waiting for you and James to follow. James took no notice, and continued telling his version of the story.

“And then you just jumped on the table and started dancing! I’ve never seen someone that drunk even be able to stand on a table without falling, let alone dance!” He laughed as the two of you made your way towards the police tape. “I could barely get you home that night!”

His last sentence made you stop walking. Unlike with Spencer, he noticed your movements, and stopped as well. “What?”

“That’s not what happened.”

“Of course that’s what happened, Y/N. You were drunk, you’re probably just-”

“No, that’s not what happened James. Yes, I danced on the table, but you didn’t take me home that night, remember? You met Joslyn at that party, and you broke up with me. I walked home alone.” The crime scene was the furthest thing from your mind at this point. How could he forget the night he met his own soulmate?

“Oh. Right. Joslyn.” It didn’t take a profiler to see how uncomfortable he was. He was acting like he didn’t even remember her. “About that…” He scratched the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact. He didn’t even need to finish the sentence for you to put the pieces together.

“Oh my god, she wasn’t your soulmate, was she?” The guilty look in his eyes was all you needed as an answer. “You just pretended she was so you had an easy out with me, right?”

“Look, Y/N-”

“James, it’s been a long time, I don’t need an apology from you. Let’s just solve this damn case and never see each other again.” And with that, you walked away.

~~~

13 hours of non-stop work and 3 kids safely home with their families later, you were back on the jet and headed towards DC. Everyone, even Hotch, was asleep, except for you and Spencer. You hadn’t had time to discuss everything that had happened with James, and he still wasn’t sending you any thoughts. So instead of going to sleep like you both desperately wanted, you pulled him to the back of the jet and away from the rest of the sleeping team.

“Seriously, Spence, I miss you. Will you please let me explain now?” You thought, hoping he’d respond similarly. Unfortunately, he just nodded, still refusing to let you into his thoughts.

“Yes, James and I dated back in college, but it was a long time ago, Spencer. He was an asshole. We were never even official, he’d just call me, fuck me, and then not talk to me until he felt like hooking up again.” Spencer was fiddling with his hands as your thoughts made his way to his brain. “Everything about that relationship was a mistake, ok? You know how he dumped me? He pretended to find his soulmate at some party just to get rid of me. I didn’t love him.” When Spencer still didn’t respond, you couldn’t help but feel a little angry. Was he really going to let some random ex get in the way of your relationship?

“I can’t help it, Y/N.” When you finally heard his thoughts, you sighed in relief. That was the longest you’d ever gone without feeling his presence, and even though this wasn’t over yet, you knew you’d get through it. “I know you didn’t love him, but hearing the way he spoke about you, hearing about how you were with him…”

“I know, Spence. I’d be the same way if you had an ex pop out of nowhere during one of our cases. But please, we gotta be able to deal with this. We both had relationships outside of us, this could happen again.”

“Y/N…” He paused for a moment, then continued out loud, “I promise I won’t cut you out like that again. I know you didn’t love him, and I made a big deal out of nothing, but I love you.” Your eyes immediately found his when he spoke. He’d never said that before. He had a light smile on his face when you looked at him. “I love you, and I’m never going to stop.”

“I love you too.” You whispered, before pulling him into a kiss.

“I love you more.” He thought as your lips touched his.

“Not possible.”

~~~

Tags: @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal @la-vie-en-amour1 @random-thoughts-003 @peculiarinsomniac @hereforbeebo @someone-you-dontknow

(I went through all the replies/asks that asked about being tagged for this series but if I missed you lmk!!)

#spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds au #soulmate au

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dearamericaroyaldiaries · 3 years

Text

Get In Losers. We’re Going Witch Hunting

I Walk in Dread- 1691(-1692), Deliverance Trembly

By Lisa Rowe Fraustino

Don’t judge the picture. Google had no images that I felt comfortable using license wise so I took a (bad) picture of my copy.

Age of Protagonist: 12

#ReadingThoughts

-Before I even start I am digging the Puritan names. First Remember Patience and now Deliverance (and I would come to find ANOTHER MEM!!).

-My edition looses points or not having a ribbon even though it’s hardcover. This negatively impacts my reading experience for Reasons.

-Hold it. Is her uncles’ name really Razor Strap? I know Puritans were big on using random phrases from the Bible for their naming, but is that really a phrase in the Bible? Also, Sister Mem had me confused it was Mem from the last book for a hot second.

-SO do Mem and Deliverance just live with their uncle? Just the three of them? (The answer I quickly found was yes.)

-I appreciate the lesson on town politics. That's important for the Salem area in 1692ish.

-I am confused by what’s happening with the year. Why is it Dec 31, 1691, then Jan. 1, 1691, and then Jan. 2, 1691/2. There is a bullshit explanation in the about the author section. If you’re worried about Accuracy when it comes to the Julian vs Gregorian calendar, put something in the text. You’re average grade schooler isn’t going to jump to that . If I remember correctly, there’s something about the Gregorian calendar differing from the Julian calendar in the Anastasia book that is handled better. Liv explains other things to the reader, why not this?

-Why is a 12 year old more responsible than a 17 year old? Especially in 1692. Mem should at least have a higher opinion of herself in the family hierarchy and be preparing to keep her own house as a wife.

-Again, I feel Mem should be more mature than Liv.

-Liv can use her sister’s boy-craziness to her advantage. Mem is willing to shovel shit if there are attractive members of the opposite sex in the vicinity.

-Allergies=Witchcraft. That explains so much about me and my life. Though I suppose it makes sense from a 17th century Puritan POV.

-Mem wants to be a stepmom to 9 kids all of whom are most likely closer to her age than she would be to the potential husband? The last part might not be a big concern in the time period but good gracious that’s too many kids for my liking.

-Age update- some of the kids would be older than her or her age.

-I feel the average target reader would need an explanation of what “God’s Elect” means. Most 12 year olds don’t have a strong grasp on post-Reformation Protestant Theology.

-Poor Liv. She wants to fit un but is failing spectacularly.

-Is Liv going to be among the accused? She’s not on the best of terms with the accusers and has been or will be associated with at least three people who were accused and killed.

- They used the strong trick for loose teeth in the 17th century? I have no evidence or data to argue one side or the other but I am suspicious. Somewhat amused, but suspicious.

-I find the tithing man hilarious. I want a stick with a fuzzy rabbit foot on one end and a knob for whacking people on the other. Also, he deserved getting thumped back by the one guy,

-I am calling bullshit on Goody Corey sniffing out only girl scent. Either it’s a bit or she’s a witch, not her husband. (Spoilers: He’s accused and refuses to confess so the town can’t take his land and is pressed to death while trying to get a confession. Post reading note: I totally forgot/didn’t know that Goody Corey was also accused and killed.)

-I don’t know really anything about the real Goody Corey, but she seems like a stand-in for an enlightened modern person, above the provincial notions of witchcraft and the commonplace racism toward Amer Indians. I’m not saying everyone thought they were the devil, but a majority thought that they were superior to the indigenous peoples of the American colonies.

-Mr. Cooper’s letter is too vague! We need deets!

-Because this is told through Livs’ eyes everyone asking about their uncle and checking in on them comes off as invasive and nosy but as an adult, a twelve year old and a seventeen year old have been left on a farm by themselves for almost two months at this point is an issue. Is he ever coming back?

-WHAT!? Goody Corey has a bi-racial son born when she was estranged from her first husband? Prepare for a wikipedia tangent because I had to a a google to corroborate this. Wikepedia backs this up but what it doesn’t back up is the timeline. I read her as in her 40s or 50s in the book. According to wikepedia (don’t judge me, it’s good for basic facts and a starting point) she was 72ish in 1692 and this biracial son was her first child who would have been 50ish at this point and was born before Martha Corey was ever married. *End Tangent* Good for her though if she did indeed five her husband an earful after Liv left.

-Hold on. Mr. Cooper wants to talk to Uncle Razor Strap about Mem marrying Darcy, not him. Mem is gonna be devastated.

-Would electricity have been a concept a) known in 1692 and b) be well enough known that a random 12 year old in the colonies with little formal schooling would be comfortable enough using the phrase “electrical lightning.” No, I will not be googling this. Googling historical facts is one thing, googling sciencey things is another thing entirely,

-Did the girls hear the stories and then claim to have witnessed ZYX or did they independently corroborate the stories? One is much less suspect than the other.

-At this point I wonder will we ever meet Uncle Razor Strap? Is he dead? Is he trying to get back to Salem? Is he abandoning them?

-I feel the leap to “Am I a witch?” after having a weird dream about nursing a baby Sarah Goode is sensible as someone who has been about to call the Vatican several times when their period was late. In those cases clearly the only explanation was pregnancy, even when physically impossible just as being a witch is Livs’ conclusion here.

-Hopefully the girls can just get out of the Salem area soon and the landlord giving them to the end of the month is a neat enough excuse.

-So Mem thinks that Goody Corey is a witch but is okay with Liv going over there?

-How scary it would be to worry that the one family member you have in the area, who should be protecting you because you’re 12, might accuse you of witchcraft.

-I am delighted the the horse can act as a chaperone. Really? Okay.

-How does the horse give permission to whisk a fainted person into the house? It’s a horse.

-So now Mem is forcing Liv to read her diary to her. Rude.

Thoughts on the Afterward

Meh. Mem marries Darcy but dies young so Liv gets her man. They return to Salem. They don’t go West like they talked about. Liv has a gagillion great grands. No one ever fount her journal. Meh. I’m happy she was happy and all but meh.

Overall Thoughts After Reading

It took almost 200 pages to get through four months. I think I just don’t care for the author. I should have liked this book. It ticks multiple boxes that should be my jam but something about it just... is a no for me. Maybe it’s because I have zero nostalgia for this book. It took me about 4.5 months to get through this book and finding it boring is one of them. No one seems like a well rounded character who has any growth. Last book Mem had a whole arc where she came to terms with losing her mother but this time Liv didn’t really seem to change or grow.

I had high hopes. This book came out right as I was aging out of Dear America but I remember the hype around it on the Scholastic website. (Yes I was a wee nerd who hung out on the Scholastic website.) Sadly I was disappointed.

Also, we nope out of the actual trials. The first trial wasn’t held until JUNE. The book ends on April 30. Yes, we get to see the initial hysteria and flurry of accusations and arrests, but this was just the beginning. This seems like a cop-out.

Rating: 3/10 Sisterly Cat-Fights

Other contenders included False Accusations (this one seemed unfair because while I believe no one who was accused of witchcraft during the Salem Witch Hysteria was actually practicing witchcraft, I can’t say with confidence that the accusers were all lying. They may have believed honestly that they were afflicted by witches so calling them false accusations seem disingenuous.) and Bible Verses because Puritans. In the end, I had to honor the brutal way Mem and Live went after each other. Apparently in addition to being sickly, Mem was also small because how else could a 12 year old take her 17 year old sister like that.

#Dear America #Read with me #Puritans #History #Historical #Deliverance Trembly #Salem Witch Hysteria #Salem Witch Trials #I get minorly sweary again. At this point just accept it.

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collecting-stories · 4 years

Text

The Truck - ep. 08 - Georgia

Summary: You stop by on break to visit Daryl at the auto shop. The Jeep is almost done being repaired.

A/N: I think basically I’m writing an even slower burn than last time.

Georgia Masterlist | The Walking Dead Masterlist

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

“I think ya ain’t as smart as ya tell me ya are,” Daryl joked as he caught sight of you walking into Dale’s Autobody shop, still in your uniform from the diner. Three days after Christmas and you’d been working as many hours as Patricia would give you. Both you and your mom trying to stay away from the house and each other as much as possible.

“I most definitely am. Why?” You asked, ducking your head down into the car he was working on when he sat down in the front seat. A newer model Nissan he’d been cursing since the owner brought it in.

“Cause I tell ya all the time not ta come in here and where are ya?” He asked, looking over at you.

“It’s not my fault, Axel said you said you’re almost done my baby.” You teased. Axel had told you over ordering his lunch that Daryl had mentioned to T-Dog that he was nearly done the work on the Jeep. Took a while, he had lamented, but he was finally, almost done. “Heard you’re glad to be rid of me.”

“Ain’t what I said,” he replied, “said I was glad ta be rid a that fucking jeep. Pain in my ass.”

“Now I know you’re talking about me.”

Daryl’s expression changed for a brief second, eyes fixing on the faint pink lines on your cheek. Barely noticeable but they hadn’t been there before Christmas. “What happened?” He tapped his finger against the same spot on his face to indicate what he was asking about.

“Just a cat scratch. Hershel’s got a couple to keep the mice away and I couldn’t resist trying to pet one.”

“They’re nasty creatures…yer lucky he didn’t take yer whole face off.” He replied, climbing back out of the car again. “Ya on break?”

You shook your head, “I picked up a shift from Amy, I got an hour to kill before I start for her.”

“Ain’t I lucky.”

“So, is my car really almost fixed?” You asked. You pulled the rolling stool over from the work bench and sat down, spinning once.

“Just about.” He replied.

Daryl hated to admit it but he’d been dragging his feet on the project and when he realized that he was nearing completion and your car would be fixed he was half tempted to break it all over again. Sure, you liked stopping in now, chatting him up before or after a shift, bumming rides, showing up at his house to spend your afternoons sitting under the car park. But once the car was fixed you wouldn’t need him to entertain you anymore. You could go to your friends houses or anywhere really, but you didn’t have to hang out with him. He wasn’t going to tell you yet but he’d let it slip to T-Dog and once one of them knew they practically broadcast it.

“You working late?” You asked, wheeling yourself over next to him.

“Why, ya don’t know anyone else with a car?”

“Why bother them when I have you?” You tilted your head back to look up at him and smile. You looked like a little kid with your eyes closed and a smile wide enough that he could see all your teeth.

He rolled his eyes at you and reached over, swiping his greasy finger down your nose and making you jump suddenly at the contact. Your eyes opened and you slid back against the car. “Careful ya don’t scratch her.”

“Did you rub grease on my nose!” You whined, trying to rub it off with the back of your hand but only making more of a mess.

Daryl shrugged, “ain’t nice ta tease.”

“Do you have a bathroom here?”

He pointed toward the back of the shop and you got up, headed for the bathroom to wipe the grease off your face.

In truth Daryl wasn’t the only one who wasn’t looking forward to the car being fixed. Your throat felt like it dropped into your stomach when Axel told you that Daryl was almost finished the car. It sent you thinking...if Daryl told Axel did that mean he was glad it was almost finished? Was he looking forward to having you out of his hair finally? You scrubbed the grease off your face and frowned at your reflection. You didn’t want this to end.

“So, ya need a ride later?” Daryl asked once you came out of the bathroom.

“Yeah if you don’t mind.” You replied.

“Nah,” he shrugged as if he was indifferent toward driving you home, “ain’t got nothing better ta do.”

You hung around a little while longer before you headed back to the diner for work. The whole night you felt distracted by Axel’s news from earlier. You were desperate to get some advice from Maggie but there wasn’t much she could offer, Glenn didn’t need any persuading to be madly in love with her. They’d been together since the 6th grade winter dance and there was no doubt in your mind that nothing, not even Hershel’s stupid rules, could keep them apart.

Glenn and Maggie were the exception to the rule. Daryl wasn’t tripping over himself to profess his love for you. Half the time you weren’t even totally sure that he liked you. There were glimpses of something that might’ve been something but trust you to choose someone so hard to read. You spent the whole dinner rush trying to think up less costly ways to spend time with him that wouldn’t annoy him or make him feel like you were some stupid kid. The word kid alone was not necessarily something you wanted him to associate with you.

The idea sparked when he pulled up outside at the end of your shift, parking his truck by the door. You ignored Lori’s comment about Dixon’s being bad news. She ‘went to school with him’ and somehow that had made her the only reputable source on him, at least in her mind. Coupled with the fact that it was Daryl driving you home you were just happy to be done work.

“I hate the dinner rush,” you complained as you pulled the door shut and leaned against the seat. “This lady bitched me out over the table having a mark in it, meanwhile her kids were dunking every fucking sugar packet, jam packet, and salt packet into their cups of water and then splashing them all over the table!”

“Musta really boiled yet blood if it’s got ya cursing.”

“I can curse.”

“I’m sure ya can.” He teased.

You pouted, arms crossed over your chest as you slumped in the seat and Daryl reached over, jabbing you gently with his fingers against your side when he stopped at a streetlight. You laughed from the sudden sensation and pushed his hand away.

“I’m not allowed to curse at home but I can curse.” You insisted and he only shook his head, smiling.

“Think yer a little too sweet ta be hanging around me.”

“Nonsense. I like hanging out with you.” You replied, “which reminds me-“

“Yeah, what now?”

“How would you feel about teaching me some basic car stuff? I don’t know anything about cars and I’d really like to learn.”

It was the plan that had finally occurred to you halfway through your shift. You didn’t know the first thing about changing oil or fixing a tire. Hell, you couldn’t even fill it with air if you wanted to.

“Yer dad never teach ya how ta handle a car?”

“No, I don’t even know how to put windshield washer in it.”

“A’right, I’ll teach ya. After I finish working on yer car.” He replied. You had only been considering yourself when you formulated your master plan but Daryl couldn’t help the brief flutter of excitement that he felt thinking you’d decided to ask him to help. Even if it was just so you could navigate the basics it still meant that you would willingly be spending more time with him.

“Seriously?” You asked, smiling over at him.

“Yeah, why not? Ya should know how ta fix yer car.” He replied, “simple stuff…still gotta make money.”

“I might get so good I’ll steal your business.” You replied.

“Sure ya could.” He pulled up where he always did, your house visible from his spot parking along the sidewalk. It was dark, just the post lantern by the front of the driveway on. “Yer parents ain’t home?” No cars were in the driveway.

“My mom’s already left for work.” You shrugged, opening the door to the truck.

“She be gone all night?”

“I can stay by myself, promise.” You laughed to make a joke of it but you usually spent the night in the living room, talking to Tara or Maggie until they eventually went to sleep. You hated being home alone.

“I ain’t got anywhere ta be.” Daryl shrugged, offering some company.

“You don’t mind staying?”

The inside of your house was exactly what Daryl had expected. A far cry from the worn down, dirty home that he lived in with his father, this was pristine. As if no one had ever sat on the furniture or lived in the house. There weren’t any family pictures but there was Christian art in its place. Tasteful, Martha Stewart-esque Christmas decorations were highlighted through out the living room and kitchen, both spotless.

Daryl pulled a face at the décor at you laughed, “my mom went on a pier one kick a few years ago trying to outdo the Walshs.”

“Can’t complain, it’s nicer than mine ever was.” He replied, looking over the table top tree, “yer dad at work too?”

“No. I mean, he’s away. Visiting family.” You said, heading into the kitchen, “my mom works overnight at the hospital, she’s been doing a lot doubles lately though. I’ll be right out, I’m gonna change!”

Daryl nodded but didn’t say anything, flicking on the rest of the living room lights to get a better look at the room. The only pictures that weren’t nature landscapes or birds were on the mantle. A church directory photo of you and your parents from this year and your senior portrait, the traditional black off the shoulder look with a rose in your hand.

“I hate that picture,” you complained as you came back into the room. “I look hideous.”

“Don’t think that’s possible but I ain’t gonna argue.” Daryl replied. “Least I ain’t the only one who don’t have family pictures up.”

“My mom hates candid pictures. She’d never hang them up.” You settled on the couch and watched as Daryl walked back to the door to kick his shoes off. “I don’t have beer but there’s soda in the fridge.”

“I ain’t ever drinking beer ‘round you again. Yer a terrible influence. Ain’t Glenn Hershel should be worried ‘bout.” Daryl teased, coming over to sit beside you.

“What? No! I am not a bad influence!” You laughed, “I’ve never done anything wrong in my whole life.”

“I been witness to a few things.”

“No one will believe you.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” He said, thinking briefly that no one would even believe he was here right now, sitting your house with you while you clicked through channels. He’d be hard pressed to convince them that you had even bummed a cigarette off him, especially if they saw the sweet looking church photo of you with your parents.

“So what kind of car things will you teach?” You asked, ignoring the channel you’d chosen and turning more toward Daryl.

“What kinda car things ya need ta learn?”

“Everything but how to drive?” You replied, biting your lip.

“Well I ain’t seen ya drive so I can’t cross it off the list just yet.”

“I’m a good driver.”

“Yeah? You working tomorrow morning?” He asked, looking back toward the TV.

“No, I’ve got off.”

“Alright, I gotta pick up my check in Woodbury, I’ll let you drive me for once.”

“In my Jeep?”

“Hell no, ya ain’t getting in that thing ‘fore it’s fixed. You can drive the truck.” He replied. The truck was his brother Merle’s originally but Merle was in jail and he hadn’t spent the last three years fixing every inch of it to have it running like new. It might’ve been Merle’s to begin with but that old Chevy was Daryl’s pride and joy. He didn’t let anyone get behind the wheel, not even Rick or T-Dog, but he was offering it up to you.

“I’ll be the best driver you’ve ever seen.”

Taglist: @cbarter @onemorebeautifulnightmare @mainokutan @qrangr @twdeadfanfic @gigilame @sabertooth-potato @enrapturedbythemoon @hopesxxhigh @coffeebooksandfandom @jodiereedus22 @tehfabbooty @thecaptainsgingersnap @of-storms-and-sadness @twdeadfanfic @alwaysadreamingoptimist @bucky-barnes-babies @ly--canthrope @daryldixonandfrogs @jaycc7983 @easnuppa @imaginecrushes @tonystarkismyboy @watchmeaspire @harpersmariano @cathwritestragediesnotsins @siren-queen03

#georgia series #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon au #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead fic #the walking dead fanfiction #The Walking Dead AU #twd fanfiction #twd fic #twd au #twd fanfic #twd imagine #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #collecting stories imagine

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toothpastecanyon · 3 years

Text

Restless

The day the Dread Pirate Mizar plunged a battleship into the sun was the day that would immortalise her. Neural news networks beamed images of melting metal and shredded hull into minds all across the UL, and in that moment, she was reborn.

Not everyone met her on that day, though. Some people had met her a long, long time ago.

See most updated version on Archive of Our Own.

______________________________________________________________

Reborn not as a person, but as a figure. As a feeling. As a legend.

The day the Dread Pirate Mizar plunged a battleship into the sun, stories began to be passed around.

It was said that the Dread Pirate Mizar was a tactical genius. She must have had inside knowledge to outmaneuver the Avada; it was said that she was a deserter, a former general of the innermost circles of the empire.

It was said that she rotted in prison for ten, twenty, fifty years, plotting the UL’s destruction.

It was said that she was crazy. It was said that she was all too sane.

It was said that she and the pirates like her were the UL’s most existential threat; it was said that she was a monster, a hero, a murderer, a revolutionary.

So many tales were told, each one taller than the last. But of these stories, a few would be left unsaid.

There was an old man, sitting in the living room with his granddaughter as his neural chip read him confirmation of Martha’s death. He grimaced to himself, thinking back to a time he’d rather forget.

______________________________________________________________

Biquilage Astradust was not proud of his past. He’d never had much in the way of a stable home life; his mother had died fighting in WEFIDS, and his father didn’t make enough to cover rent without him chipping in. He worked odd jobs until he fell into a group that paid much better… if you could stomach it.

He didn’t start out killing people, no. It started out with something he couldn’t help but understand.

It started out with anger. A common anger bound them all - anger at the hand they’d been dealt in life. Anger at the family they’d lost, anger at the situations they’d been trapped in, anger at the people who got what they didn’t deserve while they rotted in the gutters. Biquil didn’t remember a whole lot about where he went or what he did, but he remembered that anger.

It felt good, to share that. It felt good, to be with people who would understand. Who cares what they were doing?

…They were stealing. They were mugging. They were hurting people. And when Biquil was seventeen and fighting with his dad, they were saying they had some friends off planet who’d give him a place to stay for a while.

Pirates. These friends were pirates, and Biquil remembered the hard swallow he gave at the markings on the side of their ship. Jigeitef, who was accompanying him, gave him a playful shove.

“You look scared, B.” His grin had a gleam to it. “Don’t tell me I brought my buddies a chicken!”

“No! No, I’m ready! I’m ready to do whatever they say!”

“That’s more like it.” They were docking; Jig clapped his back. “You’re lucky. Captain’s putting on a bit of a party before the big hit tomorrow. I’ll introduce you to him - if I can catch him sober, hah!”

The pirates were all crowded in an old UL mess hall; there weren’t even close to enough seats, and Biquil had to step between a dozen or so swaying crew members before he made it to the captain. The captain was a large, bearded man who seemed more interested in nursing his bowl of ERNARERE brew than saying hello; after a moment, Jig gave up and thrust a bowl in Biquil’s direction.

“S’no matter. Let’s go enjoy ourselves, eh?”

The stench of alcohol burned his nose, and the two of them had a hard time finding a place to sit. Eventually they settled for sitting cross-legged in the middle of the floor; a pirate tapped Jig from behind and they started to talk, leaving Biquil alone in the deafening chatter around him.

Only for a moment, though. There was a nudge, and he turned to see Jig and the other pirate motioning at him.

“...yeah, he’s new,” Jig was saying. “He’s from… ah, whereabouts you from, B?”

“Up north,” said Biquil. He’d learned not to be specific.

“Yeah, he’s up north, round the, uh, Polar neighborhoods. Like me.” Jig cracked a grin. “You know his mom was a UL’er?”

Biquil’s blood ran cold as the pirate looked up at him. The pirate’s face twisted into a black anger, and he spat at the floor. Biquil huddled up a little closer to Jig.

“What are you doing?” He hissed. “I don’t want people knowing that!”

Jig waved him off. “Oh, you give him too much credit. He won’t remember it in the morning.”

The pirate made a slitting motion against his neck, and Biquil gulped. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it, kid. Just relax, okay?” Jig rustled his hair, and then snorted at something. “Your mom, she died in WEFIDS, didn’t she?”

“What?”

“Your mom died in WEFIDS?”

“Um, yeah… she-”

“That’s amazing! Oh, dude, I gotta show you something hil-lar-ious.”

Biquil was taken aback by that, and watched as Jig got to his feet and looked around. He grinned when he spotted someone in the crowd, and cupped his hands over his mouth to yell across the room:

“Hey, Mizar!”

The room quieted for a moment, but there was no reply. Pirates started turning their heads and snickering; Biquil craned his head to see who they were laughing at.

“Mizar. Mizar.”

Jigs’ lip lifted in a sneer. He was staring at a woman lying facedown in a corner of the room, wild hair tangled in a dirty halo around her head. She didn’t respond, didn’t move a muscle, and he rolled his eyes.

“Oh, for star’s sakes. Can someone check if she’s dead?”

At that, a couple sniggering pirates prodded her. She groaned, but didn’t move much. Biquil glanced over at Jigs.

“What’s going on?” He whispered. “Why are you-”

“ARGH, FUCK!”

That came from Mizar; one of the pirates had poured their bowl all over her hair and she’d shot up, frantically pawing at the back of her head.

“I’m hit! I’m bleeding, I’m…” She stared blankly at the tarry mixture all over her hands, and then noticed all the pirates laughing at her. Her expression twisted into a furious glare. “Oh, fuck you guys! Leave me alone, I’ve got such a hangover right now!”

“Hey, Mizar!” Jigs called out. She turned that glare on him.

“Fuck off.”

“You know WEFIDS, right?”

Mizar visibly flinched at that. Her whole body went tense, and her hand went up to clutch at a dirty pink shawl hung around her shoulders. She reminded Biquil of a cornered animal; while the other pirates cackled, he shivered.

“You know WEFIDS, right?” Jigs repeated. When she didn’t respond, he patted Biquil’s shoulder. “D’you know we got a newbie who’s mom fought there?”

Biquil physically recoiled. He tugged at Jigs’ sleeve. “No, don’t-”

“Just sayin, I thought you’d be interested.” Jigs grinned wide. “Your folks, they bit it in a UL attack, didn’t they? Damn, that sucks. Who knows, maybe this newbie knows who did it, eh, B?”

Mizar’s eyes, small and beady and bloodthirsty, suddenly jumped down and fixed on him. Biquil still remembered the shiver that shot down his spine as she rose to her feet, shattered a bottle against the side of the ship, and stumbled forwards.

Stumbled down. Fell on a group of pirates, and suddenly there was kicking and shoving and swearing and Mizar dissolved into a bloody bar fight. Without her eyes on him, Biquil felt like he could breathe again; immediately he rounded on his friend.

“You’re trying to get me killed!”

“Relax, kid,” Jig sat back even as Biquil put a hand on his knife. “You’re not special, we do it to all the newbies. Sometimes she makes them scream, hah!”

“I don’t…” He frowned. “I shouldn’t have come here.”

“Well, you’re here now, and you’re not leaving.” Jig looked at him, and there was something dangerous in his smile. “Where’re you gonna go, huh? Back to Daddy? I’m sure he’ll be happy to have a pirate back at home.”

Biquil didn’t know what to say to that.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. You’re ours now, boy. Get used to it.” Jig took a gulp of his brew. “And since you’re being so whiny about it, why don’t you have this?”

He handed Biquil a key. It was slightly bent, and there was dried blood on the handle.

“What’s this?”

“For where you’re sleeping. You’re lucky, that one’s for just a two person room! You’re gonna love your roommate.”

“Who’s my roommate?”

Jig just stared ahead, to the barfight. Somebody had Mizar in a headlock as another person was punching her all over. She was clawing at his arm, and then finally she took the broken bottle and drove it backwards into his face; they all fell over, and blood painted the wall. Biquil’s blood went cold.

“Not…”

“Yeah.” A chuckle. “Hey, maybe you’ll have the room to yourself. Seems like this fight could go either way.”

There was a shout, and suddenly Mizar was pinning the other guy to the wall; he held his hands up, but she stabbed him in the neck, and stabbed him again and again and again and again until he fell down and she kept stabbing at the wood. Finally she staggered back, dropping the bottle, staring at her bloodsoaked hands. Jig raised his eyebrows.

“Or not.” He patted Biquil’s back. “Yeah, have fun tonight, B. Might even see you tomorrow.”

Biquil stared at the monster curled up against the far wall, and honestly wondered if he was going to die tonight.

______________________________________________________________

Mizar wasn’t there when Biquil made his way to their room. He’d actually made sure to go to bed before her - his plan, if you could call it a plan, was to just be silent and hope she wouldn’t notice him. He didn’t know what to expect going into her room: bodies? Weapons? Some kind of sick collection of things taken from her murders? His heart was thumping in his chest as he turned the key, braced himself, opened the door…

And found not a bad room. It obviously wasn’t the neatest place to sleep at; there were clothes and knives strewn about everywhere, and a collection of alcohol bowls at the base of one bed, but nothing horrifying. Most surprising of all, he remembered, was a sketchbook on her bed, opened to quite a pretty drawing of this system’s asteroid belt.

Strange.

Her stuff was all over Biquil’s bed, too, and he froze, unsure of whether to move it or not. He eventually decided to carefully lower it all to the floor, and then turned out the lights so she hopefully wouldn’t notice.

Then he got in bed, and waited for her. He couldn’t sleep a wink knowing that she was coming, not knowing what she was going to do when she saw him. Jig didn’t seem to think she was that scary, but that look in her eyes when she was pacing towards him…

It was a long wait. He didn’t know how long exactly, but an eternity later, he heard the doorknob move, saw the door open and a figure stumble in. Backlit by the hallway lights, she looked like some kind of shadow, and she froze in place.

Biquil couldn’t see her eyes, but she moved her head, and suddenly he felt her gaze like he was being dropped into a sun. Slowly, deliberately, Mizar turned and closed the door behind her, locked it… and then there was something cold pressed up against his neck.

“What are you doing here?” Mizar’s voice was dangerously low. “You come to kill me? Who sent you this time?”

“What?” Biquil strained against the knife. “I don’t - they just sent me to sleep here! I wasn’t, I-I’m not trying to kill you, I promise!”

“Fuck off! Fuck off with your promises! Why don’t you guys just leave me alone?!”

“I’m sorry! I-I just got here, I don’t- please don’t kill me. I can leave. I’ll go, I-I’ll sleep outside in the hallway, I’ll…” He felt the knife relax a bit. “I’ll…?”

Mizar didn’t say anything for a long moment. Suddenly, the lights switched on, and he jumped at the sight of her looming over him. Her eyes squinted a bit in the light, and then glared down at him.

“You,” she said, after a pause. “You’re that kid from earlier. Jigs’ little friend.”

Lost for words, he nodded. She looked down at the floor.

“You moved my stuff.”

“Sorry.”

Mizar gave him a strange look at that. He couldn’t figure out if it was good or bad, but suddenly she pushed off him and tossed the knife into a corner. He could finally breathe… and he didn’t know what to do now. She was picking up all the clothes he’d moved to the floor; he reached down to help, but she glared at him and he thought better of it.

It was silent, for a long, awkward minute. Then Mizar spoke.

“B something.”

“Huh?”

“Your name.”

“Oh, uh… call me Biquil.”

Mizar nodded to herself as she folded up a prison jumpsuit. “And how old are you?”

“Um… Twenty?”

“You asking me if you’re twenty?”

“No! Uh, no, uh… seventeen. I’m seventeen.”

“Seventeen, huh.” Mizar opened a drawer. “You’re young, aren’t you.”

“Yeah…I can still fight, though! I’m not gonna run away!”

“Run away. Heh.” She shook her head. “You should, kid. While you still can.”

“What?”

“Where you from?”

“Uh, ODDIK.”

“How far away is that?”

“It’s, uh… we’re in ODDIK right now.”

“Oh.” Mizar shot him a death glare. “I’m not dumb. I’ve had a long day. I’ll hurt you if you laugh at me.”

Biquil shook his head, and watched her glare deepen.

“You think I’m dumb. You all think I’m dumb, and you’re all wrong. I know why they made you come here; they think I’ll be a part of their little hazing.” She muttered to herself. “I’m gonna kill Jigs. Gonna kill him. One day I’m just gonna kill him.”

He shrank back in his bed a little as Mizar finished putting her stuff away. She stalked towards the light switch, and shot a look at him before she flicked it.

“You need anything else?”

“What do you-”

“I said. Do you need. Anything else.” She glared at him. “Once this goes off it’s not going on again. Hurts my eyes.”

“No, I don’t- I don’t need anything else.”

“Good.” She turned off the lights, and there was a shuffling as she got into bed. “Oh, by the way, don’t plan on sleeping tonight, kid. There’s a reason they gave me my own room.”

“...Why?”

“I, uh, snore. Yeah, I snore real loud, apparently.”

Biquil frowned. “That’s the reason?”

“I mean I also strangled someone with their own bedsheets once, but that was self defense.” The bed creaked as Mizar rolled over. “Anyway, goodnight, or whatever.”

She didn’t speak again, and Biquil was suddenly alone in total darkness. He tried to shut his eyes, but it didn’t make much difference.

______________________________________________________________

Unsurprisingly, Biquil didn’t remember getting much sleep that night. He did - very vividly - remember why, though. It wasn’t the snoring. Mizar didn’t snore once.

It was the crying. She cried all night, sniffing and muttering and breath-hitching… and he just lay there, with nothing to do but listen. He didn’t dare make a sound, and when the alarm went off for them to get up, he didn’t say a word about the blotchy face who turned on the lights.

“Hmm…” She wiped her eyes and frowned at him for a second. “Oh, you’re the kid from the… Right.”

“Good morning,” Biquil said, and then immediately regretted how dumb that sounded.”Uh-”

“It’s a good morning? That’s news to me, heh.” She chuckled as she picked a knife up from the floor. “Big day. Think we’re raiding a UL outpost today. Apparently the captain thinks they keep a lot of gold in little space stations at the edge of empire space, but hey, what do I know.”

He didn’t know what to say to that, so he got out of bed. There wasn’t a whole lot of getting ready he needed to do - he’d slept in his clothes - but he did check his pockets. You’d be surprised how easy it was for things to go missing over the night.

“How you feeling about it, kid?”

“Huh? Oh, I’m ready for anything.”

“Anything, eh?” She shot him an unpleasant smile. “That’s bold. Anything at all?”

Biquil made a face. “I mean… you know, ready for whatever happens on the job, you know.”

“Oh yeah, I know. I know what happens on jobs, you don’t.”

“...Okay?”

She paused, and then took a step towards him. “This is your first job, isn’t it.”

“No, I-”

“Sure, sure, you’ve messed around on your home planet or whatever. That’s not what I’m talking about, kid.” She stepped forwards again, close enough that he could smell her. That pink shawl - stars, it reeked. “I’m saying this is your first job. Your first real one.”

There was something unreadable in Mizar’s eyes… he nodded. Anything to make her go away, and fuck she put a hand on his shoulder.

“Listen to me,” she said, quietly. “You’re not gonna go on this job today. You’re gonna stay in this room, and I’ll come back after and get you off the ship.”

Biquil frowned. “What?”

“I’ll just say I killed you. They always believe that, they won’t go looking for you.”

“Wh- but, no! I gotta go on this job, I won’t get paid-”

“Then you’re gonna walk right off this ship and get yourself a different job - asteroid miners, they hire off the street these days! You still have that option.” Her grip tightened. “Listen, kid, that UL outpost is gonna be stuffed with cameras and chip scanners; you think you got problems now? Wait until your iris scan shows up on every piracy database in the galaxy. Once you’re in, you’re not getting out.”

He stared at her. “You want me to just… run away?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I want you to do.”

“I can’t do that! Jigs is gonna think I’m a-”

“Argh!” Mizar suddenly shoved him back. “I’m gonna break something if you keep whining at me! Just stay here for a few hours and I’ll get you off the ship-”

“But I don’t want to get off the ship!” He clenched his fists. “You can’t just kick me out like this!”

“Oh yes I can, and also, I don’t care what you want. You’re seventeen, what you want is dumb.”

“Shut up, shut up!” He stabbed a finger at her. “Stop telling me what to do! I came here so people would stop telling me what to do! You’re not my mother!”

Mizar stared down at him. “Yeah, and I’m real glad I’m not. She raised a piece of work, didn’t she?”

Biquil froze as the words registered; at first there was disbelief, and then red hot rage like she’d stabbed him with fire. Before he even knew what he was doing he drew back his fist and was driving it right into her stupid smug face-

And she caught it. A second later, the cold rim of a blaster shoved itself against his jaw. She wasn’t smiling at all.

“Don’t try that again, kid.” Her hand forced itself into his pocket, and grabbed his room key. “This is what is going to happen. You’re going to stay right here until I come back, and then you’re going to get off this ship and go do something else with your life.”

She started walking backwards, still pointing the blaster at him. He glowered at her.

“I hate you.”

“Join the club.” Mizar opened the door, and then motioned around the room. “Oh, yeah, and while I’m gone, don’t trash my room. I may kill you for real then.”

“Oh, yeah? Try me! We can fight it out, we can-!” The door slammed in his face, and he kicked it. “Argh! I can’t believe this!”

He jiggled the handle, and then tried banging and hollering on the metal; no one came. He stepped back, shaking from anger, and started kicking all her stupid clothes strewn all over the floor. One of her knives was right by his foot - he took that and started gouging holes in some of them, and then he went to her bed and sliced right down her mattress.

Her sketchbook fell on the ground. He picked it up, chest heaving, and tore the pages right out of their binding. He tried to rip them all together but they were too thick to tear, so he picked one out.

It was a drawing of an asteroid. The detail in it gave him pause; he stared at the little flecks of shining ore in the grey shading, the sky behind it peppered with stars… this must’ve taken hours, he thought.

Biquil made to tear it, but then he paused, and then he scowled and tossed it to the floor instead. He stalked over to his bed and threw himself onto his pillow.

There he lay for a long time, glaring into the fabric.

______________________________________________________________

It felt like an eternity before Mizar returned. Biquil paced around the room for a while, listening to the oxygen system whirr on and judder off, the idling engines chugging deep in the hull, the creaks and moans of an empty ship. He tried picking the lock, but he’d never been very good at that; he didn’t like fiddly things. He didn’t like waiting around.

Which was why it was almost a relief to hear footsteps down the corridor. He heard the key turn in the lock, and saw the door crack open.

Nobody came out at first. He moved a bit closer, and then it swung wide; Mizar shuffled in, hunched, with her hand clapped around a wound on her forehead - he could see the blood still running down it.

“Oh…” He said as she threw her backpack on the ground. “Uh… are you…?”

“I dunno… what’s my name? What year is this?” Her eyes flicked up to his face, and she let out a chuckle. “Nah, just kidding, kid. Had to see the look on your face.”

He watched her laugh a bit more to herself, then rifle around in her bag. Her eyes dropped to the floor, and saw all the torn clothes he’d left strewn about.

“Oh, you’ve been keeping busy, eh? You little gremlin.” Shaking her head, she picked one up and made to tear off the sleeve. “I do remember telling you I’d kill you for touching my stuff, but I guess…”

A crumpled page fell out of the shirt, and Mizar froze as it came to rest face-up; it was her drawing of the asteroid belt. Biquil could feel the air drop ten degrees as she shot up, noticing for the first time the pages scattered about her room, the spine of the sketchbook carelessly tossed behind the bed. He could see her breath hitch, her jaw set, her fists clench… and she spoke.

“You…” She said, with a dangerous quiver. “You destroyed my sketchbook.”

Biquil felt a bit of a pang at that, but he stuffed it down. “I… I told you. I don’t want to leave.” He watched Mizar bend down, flip her bag over, and start shaking everything out of it. The blood from her head was dripping now; she seemed to have completely forgotten about bandaging it. “Uh, what are you…?”

“Get in.”

“Get in what?” He blinked as she tossed the bag at him. “What? I won’t fit!”

“Magic. It’s bigger on the inside.” Mizar stalked towards him. “Get in, I’ll carry you out.”

“But-”

Mizar punched him in the mouth. Biquil remembered it like a shot of pain and then he was on the floor, stars dancing across his vision. He tried to blink open his eyes, and saw Mizar looming over him like the shadow of a giant.

“I am so, fucking, SICK OF PLAYING NICE FOR YOU!” She drove her foot into his chest. “Do you think I’m some sort of joke? That you’re just gonna come in here and tear my shit up and walk all over me? Fuck you! FUCK YOU!”

She kicked him again, and he recoiled from her. She grabbed his shoulder and wrenched him up to her.

“Look at me.” Mizar seized his stinging jaw. “Look at me! You’re gonna get in this bag, you’re gonna get off this ship, and you’re gonna pray to god that I don’t see your shitty UL face again because I will do something terrible to you. I will. Is that clear?”

Biquil stared into her eyes, and could only imagine he was seeing the face of pure evil. Her breath was rancid, and her blood was running down the side of her grimy face and dripping onto him. He couldn’t breathe; he could barely manage a single, terrified nod.

“Okay.” She took a breath. Her eyes flitted down, and then wandered up to meet his again. “Can you stand?”

He nodded, but he struggled to get his legs underneath him. She made a face and hoisted him up herself.

“Alright…” Mizar said, and brushed him off a little. She didn’t look him in the eyes. “Alright. Now… just get in the bag, okay?”

This time, she didn’t have to ask twice. He quickly stumbled over and drew the bag around him, then winced as she hoisted it up over her shoulder. His face, his ribs - he tried to cradle them as best he could, but with every little movement they sent out sharp shots of pain. It stank in the bag, too; maybe he was a little grateful now everything hurt so much, because it didn’t occur to him at the time to wonder what had been stashed in here before him.

No, in the utter darkness, all he tried to make out were sounds from the outside. Mizar’s feet, pounding on the metal. The beeps of doors as she walked through them. The odd chatter of passing pirates. They seemed to get to a place with a lot more voices; Mizar took a hard turn right, and then-

“Hey, you! Mizar!”

Jig. Biquil perked up at that voice.

“Where you going? We’re leaving in less than a trentile, and… what’s in that bag?” A dark chuckle. “Don’t tell me you’ve got other plans.”

Mizar stopped, and turned around. She didn’t say anything for a moment, and he could feel her swaying a bit, like she was suddenly way too drunk to stand.

“Hey, you listening to me? What are you, stupid?”

“Huh?”

“I said what’s in the bag!”

There was a pause, and then… “The kid. Biqop or whatever.”

He blinked. What?

“Yeah,” she said, and dropped him to the floor. “Came back to my room, and the body - whoo - it was already leaking and stinking up the place and all that junk. Gotta dump it out before we jump; oh, hey, wanna take a look?”

“Eugh!” He could hear Jig take a step back. “No! Why the fuck would I want to look at that, you gross little-”

“Because you’re gonna be in here too some day.”

“Wh… i-is that a threat?”

“I dunno. Maybe.” She picked up the bag again. “Enjoy yourself. You know I’ll be back before we leave.”

Then she walked away, and there wasn’t another word from Jig. He could feel the air change as they walked off the ship; Mizar was still going somewhere, and he wasn’t sure where that was until they went through a door and stopped.

“Alright.” She set the bag down, and uncovered him. They were in a bathroom. “Seems like I can let you out here. Come with me.”

“What?” Biquil frowned. “Where?”

“I saw a sign as I was walking over here.” Mizar took off her shawl and placed it gently in her bag. A bandage was now tied around her head, he noticed. She offered a hand. “C’mon, I’ll do you a favour.”

He was a little dubious of that, but he took her hand and let her lead him out of the bathroom. He’d seen the ODDIK station before; the pirate ship was stationed in a pretty seedy part of it, with grime on the walls and neon neurovertisments flashing at him through a crowd of shadows. Mizar kept her hand on him as she led him out, past doors and through hallways, into a different part that looked a tiny bit more cleaned up. There, she stopped and took a look around.

“What are you looking for?” Biquil asked. He saw her snap her fingers and start walking towards a man leaning by a docking station. “Who’s he?”

Mizar gave a sunny smile. “Mr Mazul?”

“Yeah?”

“Hi, we saw your ad about asteroid miners! Sorry about the look - just got out of work, at the mines. Long shifts and all that, you know how it is.”

He blinked. “Oh? Where do you work? On planet?”

Biquil saw her freeze a little at that. “Uh, yeah, sure, at…”

“There’s a uranium mine in the Polar Neighborhoods,” Biquil supplied. The man nodded.

“Oh, yeah! My cousin works there! Jedislef Mazul, you know him?”

Mizar nodded. “Yeah, uh, I think that rings a bell. Yeah, it’s a good job. It’s good pay, uh, honest work… but anyway! We’re not here for me, we’re here-” She wrapped an arm around Biquil. “-for my nephew!”

He blinked at that. Mazul looked over at him.

“What’s your name, son?”

“Biquilage.” He paused. “Uh, Astradust.”

“Alright. And how old are you?”

“He’s seventeen,.” Mizar said. “but he’s a very good worker, very driven.” Her grin turned wry. “Heh, honestly, sometimes it’s annoying how hard he works to get stuff done sometimes, you just wanna punch him in the face!”

Biquil awkwardly rubbed his chin as the man wrote something down. He looked up at Mizar, and she winked at him. He didn’t know how to interpret that.

“Okay…” Mazul started. “Just to clarify, we’re asteroid miners. We go out for cycles at a time, so you’ll go long periods without seeing your family. That okay with you?”

“That’s okay.” He made a face. “That’s… yeah. That’s okay with me.”

“Alright, then. We’re going out tomorrow, so actually it’s great you stopped by; we were hoping to get a few more onboard before then.” He extended a hand. “Welcome to the team, Biquilage.”

“Oh… oh, thank you!” Biquil took it. “That’s great! Tomorrow?”

“Yeah, we’ll go over the details with all the new hires tomorrow. Just show up here at 11th trentile, and don’t be late, okay?”

“O-okay! I won’t!”

He felt Mizar clap his back. “And voila!” She said, and the smile on her face was wide and genuine. “Nice, kid! It’s that easy!”

“Yes, it was good to meet you, Biquilage, and…” The man looked to Mizar. “Oh, I don’t think I got your name.”

Mizar blinked. “My name?”

“Yeah.”

“Uhhh…” She seemed genuinely caught off guard; Biquil could see her search for a name, but in the end what came out of her mouth was: “Martha. Martha, uh, Astrapuff.”

“Astradust.”

“I knew that,” she said, a little distantly. “Was just making a joke. Let’s go.”

They walked a little ways away, and Biquil didn’t quite know what to do now. Mizar’s arm was still around his shoulders; he tried to extract himself, and that was when she seemed to come back to herself a bit.

“Uh,” She drew her arm back, and dug into her pocket. “Hey, one more thing.”

Mizar drew her hand out, counted a couple crumpled credits, then handed them over.

“This’ll probably get you a room for tonight. Won’t be the nicest, but hopefully that don’t bother you.” She flashed a smile. “You’ve slept in worse places.”

“Thanks?” He looked up at her. “Why are you - this is your money!”

“Eh, as long as you don’t ask the people I took it from.”

“But… why are you being so nice to me? What’s in it for you?”

“I dunno, what’s in it for you asking questions like that? You want me to take it back?” She laughed, but there was an edge to it. “Look, you’re all set up, I’m going now. Have a nice life.”

She started walking away. Biquil frowned. “Mizar?”

“Byyye!”

“Martha?”

Martha froze at that. Biquil saw her hesitate; her hands clenched a bit, her shoulders rose as she breathed, and then she turned around. There wasn’t quite a smile on her face as she spoke.

“It’s a nice fake name, right? I like it. Got a good ring to it.” Her smile fell a little. “Not my name, though. Doesn’t really fit, y’know, this.”

She chuckled, and hoisted her backpack up on her shoulder.

“Anyway,” she said. “Time for me to go. Bye, kid.”

Then Biquil watched Mizar turn, and walk out of the station without another word. She disappeared behind a bend in a hallway, and a part of him thought that was the last time he’d ever see her… and he didn’t. Not for decades.

Biquil spent his life mining asteroids, making friends, sending money back to his dad. He met, he married, he settled down somewhere far from ODDIK, and some nights when he tucked his kids into bed, his mind wandered back to that one dark night on the pirate ship, the night before he almost made the biggest mistake of his life.

The night Martha stepped in and turned him back. Saved all this. And that wasn’t to say she was good, or nice - even forty years on his jaw still clicked when he ate - but when he thought of her, he liked to imagine she’d caught a break at some point. Maybe she was living somewhere outside even the UL, getting to have a quiet life where no one bothered her and she could sleep peacefully at night. It wasn’t likely, but it made him feel a bit better when he looked around at all he had and knew how lucky he was not to end up just like her.

But, of course, he did see her again. For weeks the news broadcast her mugshot on every building of the UL, and Biquil could no longer imagine that she’d lead anything close to a comfortable life. She’d spent her life in piracy, and for the last five years she’d sat on death row before she got out and tore a final, bloody rampage through UL space.

That face. Those eyes. They haunted him for the rest of his days… because no one else could see what he saw in them. Some people said they were eerily blank, others described the calculated intelligence in them… none of them would just admit she looked tired. Really, really tired.

They did, didn’t they? I mean, wouldn’t you be tired after being sent to prison? She looked the same as she did when he first laid eyes on her across the dining room.

Like she just wanted to be left alone.

#transcendence au #toothwrites #dread pirate mizar #transcendence au in space

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badboys-imagines · 4 years

Text

My neighbor (Henry Cavill)

PART III

A/N : I’d love to know what you think about this story so don’t hesitate to leave a comment ! Thanks for reading ♥.

Pairing : Henry Cavill x Reader

Summary : You move into the house of your dreams. It all seems like a fairytale, until you meet your neighbor, Mr. Cavill...

PART I | PART II | PART III

Martha Lawson had always been curious, maybe too curious.

As you took the last luggage out of your car, you heard a high-pitched voice calling beside you. Ah, you would learn to hate that sound, but it’s another story.

“Hello dear,” Martha sang, ''I saw you moved in yesterday but you know how busy people can be, we didn’t get the chance to meet. I'm Martha by the way, I live across the street, the blue house.''

You looked up from closing the cars door and smiled, wiping the sweat from your forehead. Carrying all these stuffs would be the death of you, and you couldn’t count on Henry or your new desperate-housewife neighbor to help.

“Nice to meet you, Martha.'' you caught your breath, ‘'I'm Y/N.”

The woman smiled back at you, spreading tiny wrinkles around her eyes and cheeks. She was probably in her late fifties, but her surgeon had done a good job, it was undeniable.

“I saw you and Mr. Cavill didn’t really get along, how unfortunate.” Martha said, lowering her voice, ''Oh, I don't mean to overstep. It’s just... don't mind him. He's a bit grumpy these days, it will pass.”

It wasn't a myth then. Desperate housewives living were really the worse gossipers.

“Yeah, I noticed.” you chuckled, “Do you know why ?”

“Ah, probably work, or a woman. How would I know ?”

Martha wasn’t really listening or trying to answer the question. She bent forward, her eyes taking sight of the bandage around your wrist,

“Poor sweet thing, did he hurt you in any way ?’’ Her eyes widened in fear and she looked back at you, concerned.

Your mouth opened and you huffed,

“Oh-this, no ! I...” My hand went through his window, you thought, “It was an accident. I cut myself with broken glass and it was all my fault. Really.”

Martha nodded suspiciously,

“Well then, don't let this attractive devil bother you. If you need anything, you know where to find me.” She winked and pointed at her big house again.

You nodded, thanked her and she walked away. She climbed up the stairs and waved her hand at you before closing the door. At least, she was kind.

Martha had a point : Henry Cavill was attractive. But he was also a pain in the ass.

You had quickly recovered from your little rush of adrenalin and you were now tidying your room, getting rid of the empty boxes that were still on the floor while Henry was making calls to get his window fixed.

Thinking about him and how weird he was, you couldn't help but find your devilish neighbor even more mysterious. He’d really taken care of you earlier. There was even a moment when you thought he was actually cute.

A knock on the door woke you up from your slumber and you stood up. Enough thinking about Mr. Chaos. A little conversation with someone else would distract you from these thoughts.

You opened the door, a light, polite smile curving your lips, but it was Mr Cavill. Again. A fluttery feeling twisted your guts and your smile died faster than a candles flame. This time, he looked upset.

Henry stared at you for a moment longer, enough for you both to feel awkward.

"Hello, again." he chuckled without an ounce of joy, "Glad to see you're... doing better."

A frown came up your forehead and you blushed,

"Oh, yes, I am. Thanks. I mean... Sorry. »

Wait, no, you weren’t sorry for everything…

You were about to correct yourself, but Henry spoke first,

"Apologies accepted. Well, this is embarrassing..." he muttered, "Listen, you broke my window and…"

You cut him off straight, "I know, and I'll pay for it, alright ? I'm sorry, for that." you insisted on the last words, but saw him shake his head as he bit down onto his lower lip,

"The thing is, I can afford a bunch of new windows if it pleases me.” he hummed lowly as if he disapproved your attitude, ‘'The impact made a crack on the main bay window, and now the whole set of windows needs to be replaced."

"What ?" you choked feeling dizzy, "Oh god…"

You didn’t have enough money for this kind of repair. Your hands legs started shaking.

"Please, don’t swoon again.” Henry closed his eyes in frustration, “I’m won’t ask you to pay for the whole thing. But I do need a favor. It will be snowing tomorrow and the guys who were supposed to fix this mess can't come until next Monday."

Your jaw dropped. Next Monday ? He was going to freeze to death.

"Oh shit." you swore, “Ho-how could I help you ? Do you need anything to keep you warm ?" you heard yourself talking and spluttered, "I mean... Not in a way that... Well, you know."

Heart stuttering, you cleared your throat, hating yourself for being so clumsy at that very moment. You rubbed the back of your neck in embarrassment and silence fell between you. Henry’s eyes darkened to the point they almost looked grey in the daylight.

Was it lust in his gaze ?

After a moment, he shrugged, burying his hands into his pockets, "Just a room, would be nice."

“I didn't want it to sound... I didn’t mean anything... physical.” you sighed, avoiding his blue irises.

At first, you remained silent. There were plenty of hotels out there, good and cheap ones. He'd easily find a place to stay. But then your gaze settled on his and the sentence made its way to your brains.

"You want to stay here. At my house." you’d said it out loud, as if waiting for confirmation.

Even though he kept his voice calm and indifferent, Henry uncomfortably shifted on his feet, his usually cold, pale skin tinting with light shades of red,

"Precisely.” he took a step toward you, “I despise hotels, and since I don’t think you can pay for my broken windows, I thought it would be a fair deal." he plunged his gaze into yours and for a moment, you lost yourself into them, “If you meant to keep me warm without anything physical," he repeated your own words, "it shouldn’t be a problem to live like this for a week or two.”

A week or two ? That was a lot. You gulped audibly,

"Don't you have friends for this kind of emergencies ?" you asked, but the question hung in the air and seemed to bother him more than your rejection itself.

Of course, he didn't have any friends. He was Henry Cavill, the devil himself, for god's sake.

It took you a moment to realize what it would involve. Henry living with you, even for just a week, would be a terrible mess.

Oh, no, you couldn't do that.

Or could you ?

On the other side of the street, you noticed Martha Lawson was out. She’d stopped collecting her tomatoes to watch the scene intently. She was probably trying to hear your conversation from the distance.

Slowly, you took a few steps back.

"Listen, let’s try to find a solution. Just... Come inside, before Mrs. Lawson makes up a whole story about us."

Henry swiftly glanced behind him, as if perplexed and he walked in. You closed the door as he did, and you grew even more nervous. His scent invaded your lungs, intoxicating. It was surprising, how you hated and liked it at the same time. Your heart started pounding when you didn't want it to. Your body seemed to follow its own instincts and they weren’t good. As you turned around, you tried to shrug off these unwanted emotions. Absolutely certain you could control them, you finally locked eyes with Henry Cavill. As soon as his blue gaze pounced on yours, you lost it. You lost everything.

Crossing your arms, you tried to sound and appear indifferent, denying the physical attraction, the animal desire that slowly but surely invaded your mind,

"Alright. How... How would we proceed ? We don't get along, you don't like me, and in case you didn't notice, we are more likely to kill each other than to live together."

Eyes absentmindedly wandering around, Henry took a few steps across the living room. Observing, he seemed like he was about to throw another unpleasing comment at you, maybe about the house or its furnitures, but he didn't. Instead, he just turned around to face you,

"I never said I didn't like you." he corrected you, impossibly calmly.

You raised your eyebrows,

"You've been rude to me from the start. And you didn't even feel the need to apologize."

Once more, Henry shrugged. It was his turn to cross his arms against his torso, his attitude displaying the sassiest aspects of his personality in one posture.

"I don't have to. You disturbed me, I told you to stop, you violently punched my window and broke it…"

Oh, god damn you Cavill.

Blood rushing to your head, you were about to jump like a lion and dig your claws deep into the soft skin of his throat to rip his head off.

“Shut up,” you raised your voice, “I got it, we're... different. We have our own opinions on how to behave with other people." you uttered, trying to manage your anger as he played with your nerves, "But apologizing doesn't always mean you're wrong and the other person is right. It just means you value your relationship more than your ego."

Tilting his head, Henry narrowed his eyes and contemplated you,

"My bad," he rasped, "I didn't know we were in a relationship. I apologize, then.”

At his words, you couldn't help but blush instantly.

"That's not what I meant..." you stuttered, but he came closer, his face only a few inches away from yours.

"While you decide the words you wish to speak wisely, Miss Y/L/N, will you or will you not let me live here temporarily, until this damn window you broke gets fixed ?" he asked, the tone of his voice deep and commanding.

Gaze plunged into his, you tried to utter something like a no. Your lips moved as to form the word, but not a sound came out of your mouth. Your heart was racing as if a predator was threatening to bite you, and yet you were completely turned on by the feeling. It didn’t make any sense to you. And it didn't make any sense either that you just nodded at him, accepting his proposition.

"Fine, you can stay."

TAG LIST - OPEN

My Neighbor Tag list : @boiled-onionrings, @sheanaghgoldenheartblog,@allnewimaginecharliehunnam, @drewmcintyreinarefereeoutfit, @mc225g, @supernaturalvikingwhore

Tag list Henry / Geralt : @d14n4ol, @alwayshave-faith

Tag list * Geralt of Rivia : @emmalbg

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lostinfic · 3 years

Text

Christmas Eve (stuck) in the Lab

Chapter 12/12 *complete*

Summary: Dr. John Smith and Rose Tyler both work at the Natural History Museum in London, he’s a scientist and she works in the gift shop. They are only friends, but the upcoming staff Christmas party promises developments they’ve both been longing for. However, John and Rose end up stuck with Martha, Donna and Jack in the laboratory, and shenanigans ensue: decontamination showers, cocktails in beakers, a game of truth-or-dare and a Secret Santa rigged by meddling friends.

Tags: mutual pining, friends to lovers, fluff with light angst, found family

Rating: Teen (for now) | Words:11556

@doctorroseprompts

Ao3

The click of doors unlocking interrupted their celebration and made everyone run to the railing to watch the entrance below. Kate Stewart entered the laboratory. She wasn’t wearing a hazmat suit, which must mean….

“You’re safe,” she declared.

Palpable relief washed over the group.

Rose’s stomach untangled. She covered her mouth with her hand, laughing shakily. She had to call her mum.

She turned to John, he was all loud cheers and big grin. He grabbed Rose around the waist in a hug that lifted her off the floor.

When he put her back down, his hands lingered at her waist, and hers on his shoulders.

Kate joined them up in the gallery.

She gave some scientific information they all seemed to understand except Rose. She gathered the substance was not harmful to humans.

Kate handed them an information sheet. “Just in case, be on the lookout for symptoms on this list. Call the number at the bottom if you have any concerns.”

Jack was out the door before she’d even finished talking. Martha, Donna and John left in different directions, to call relatives or pick up their coats and keys.

Rose should have hurried outside too, but she dawdled, feeling oddly nostalgic. She shut down the monitor and covered the leftover food with plastic wrap.

She was aware of John’s spearhead left on the corner of the table, but couldn’t look at it.

She felt bad for disliking it. She appreciated its monetary value, if not its sentimental one. She wished he hadn’t just picked something off his shelf; her gift dealt with in an efficient manner, then dismissed.

Donna carried Rose’s backpack from her office and up the stairs. She had something else in her hand, too.

“I thought you should know, this is what John was going to give you.”

Donna unrolled a poster with a beautiful map of the world in neon colours. She explained how he’d made it using UV light and special proteins.

It was perfect, bright and creative and just so special. Yet it only added to Rose’s frustration.

“I don’t know why he changed his mind. He really likes you, Rose.”

“But not enough to tell me himself.”

“Or so much it scares him.”

“Well, he knows where to find me if he needs help with that too.” She sighed, regretting her snark. She was tired. “I suppose it’s because of what happened to his parents.”

“What about them?”

He hadn’t confided in Donna, but he had in her. Maybe that meant something. And yet, Rose couldn’t help but remember once again how she’d fooled herself into believing Jimmy’s behaviour meant more than it did.

From the gallery, Rose could see across the lab, down into John’s office. He was still there, talking on the phone.

Her heart softened for him, as it always did.

Perhaps, for once, she should be the one going to him. In her determination to not misread any signals, she’d forgotten to send out her own.

---

As she approached the Doctor’s office, she overheard his conversation with the airline.

“Were you able to book another flight?” she asked after he’d hung up.

“Yes. Later tonight.” He hesitated. “The Mendoza team is counting on me. I can’t let them down.”

“Hey, you don’t need to explain yourself to me. I go out of my way to avoid the street where my dad was killed.”

He nodded and offered a sympathetic smile.

“It’s important work I’m doing every year. I’m helping out labs with less means to preserve their own history.”

“I believe you. I’ll see you in three weeks, then. Drop by the shop as soon as you can. I fully expect you to use those vouchers.”

“I don’t know,” he joked, “maybe if you sweeten the deal with your employee discount.”

“I think that could be arranged.”

“Good. Looking forward to it.”

“Me too.”

Rose shuffled her feet and wrung her hands. John rearranged random items on his messy desk.

“I think I need your help,” she stammered.

“Yes, of course! What do you need? What can I do?”

“I’m not quite sure how to get money out of this.” She held out the spearhead.

John sprang to action. He sent her links to trusted auction sites, wrote a description of the item for her and hunted down the original authenticity certificate.

She had to stop him when he got trapped, elbow-deep in a filing cabinet.

“It’s okay. It can wait.”

“But if you get the money now, you might be able to enroll in time for the winter semester.”

Rose narrowed her eyes at him.

“Did you listen to my conversation with Martha?”

“Er, well, I wasn’t listening so much as voices accidentally reached my ears.”

“Right.”

He sat on the edge of his desk, his long legs stretched in front of him and crossed at the ankle.

“I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to,” he added.

“S’alright. Explains a lot actually.”

“Listen, I know some professors and uni administrators and how to get financial aid.”

“You would help me?”

“Absolutely.”

“And if university isn’t what I want? I mean, I haven’t even got my A-levels.”

He shrugged. “You deserve all your dreams to come true, whatever they are. You’re brilliant, Rose.”

No one had ever said that to her. Not this earnestly.

A lump rose in her throat.

Before she’d found something to say, he offered to walk her home.

“I live in Peckham. That’d be quite a walk.”

“Don’t care.”

---

Fresh air welcomed them outside the Museum. It felt like they’d been trapped inside for years. Early dusk painted the sky a soft lavender, and fluffy snowflakes drifted down over them.

After a few steps, John took Rose’s gloved hand. She smiled and tightened her fingers over his. They laughed shyly for no other reason than the sheer pleasure of having their affection reciprocated.

In front of the Museum’s ice rink, John babbled on about bronze-age skates made from animal shins and references to skiing found in writings of the Han dynasty, in China. Joined hands swinging between them, they laughed more than the fun facts warranted. Their hearts felt as light as the snowflakes floating down from the sky. Simply put, they were utterly giddy.

They strolled down a quiet street. Decorations twinkled in windows and relatives greeted each other at the door.

John’s pace slowed down, his gaze turned inward and unfocused.

“I think I might call my former foster family,” he said at last, glancing at Rose for approval.

“Sounds like a great idea. You were close to them?”

He nodded. “The last ones I lived with, they really encouraged me to study. I even had a sister, of sort, Sarah Jane.” He smiled at the memory. “She was a Smith too. We used to pretend we were real siblings… I should’ve kept in touch.”

“Never too late for that.”

They passed by a tube station without stopping. Street lights switched on one after the other, as if only for them. They would have to part ways soon. It was a long ride to cousin Mo’s house, and he had a flight to catch.

At the gate of a quiet garden square, Rose stopped walking. They still held hands, and she fiddled with the cuff of his jacket.

“You remembered Jack’s dare, didn’t you?” she asked him.

“Uh, vaguely. Well, most of it. Where was he keeping that mistletoe?”

Rose waited a beat, but he didn’t say anything else.

“John, you know what you were saying about helping make my dreams come true?”

“Yeah?”

He stepped closer. Her breath quickened. She licked her lips, and his gaze flicked to her mouth.

“Well, maybe there’s a dream you, uh, you could…”

“What?” His face split into a grin. He clicked his jaw. He knew full well what she was trying to say.

“You could kiss me. Shut up.”

She looked away, but John’s hand on her cheek brought her eyes back to him. He opened his mouth, probably to say something smart-arse again. Instead, Rose grabbed his scarf and pulled him down to her. Cold nose tips met pink cheeks. He laughed against her lips. Their arms wrapped around each other, bringing their bodies together, as close as their winter coats allowed.

Rose forgot the cold and the passersby, she forgot it was Christmas Eve. Her hand in his hair knocked off his beanie. A tiny whimper came from the back of his throat, and she found herself with her back to the garden gate being thoroughly kissed. It was probably a good thing they were wearing so many layers.

When they broke the kiss, he rested his forehead on hers. The clouds on their breath mingled.

“Now I regret booking another flight,” John whispered.

“You’d better not forget me whilst you’re gone, mister.” She poked him in the chest playfully.

“Haven’t stopped thinking about you since the day we met— I doubt I will after that kiss.”

“Let’s give you plenty to think about, then.”

She rose to her tiptoes and kissed him again. An unforgettable kiss.

#ficandchips #ten x rose #doctor x rose #Christmas fluff #finished but stay tuned for a bonus smutty chapter #lostinfic writes stuff

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fleckcmscott · 4 years

Text

Things Past

Summary: Arthur shares a childhood memory with Y/N. She sees it differently than he does.

Warnings: Mild angst

Words: 2,645

A/N: This was an anonymous request! Thank you for sending it to me - it was a real challenge. A big thanks to Karen, too. Not just for beta-ing, but for helping with the basis of the memory in question. (I had an idea but hers was much better.)

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask. Requests for Arthur and WWH are open!

Y/N was clad in her robe and brushing her teeth when Arthur entered the bathroom, flashed her a half-smile, and sat on the side of the tub. A mix of nicotine and cologne hung in the air. He must have smoked half a pack if he was trying to cover up the scent. The flexing of his bare toes on the dark tile floor, and the nibbling of his thumbnail caught her eye in the mirror. Once she rinsed, she grabbed a piece of floss and sat next to him, situating herself so they were hip to hip.

They were fast approaching five years together. Arthur and she still found respite in each other's presence. In shared warmth, not only in the familiarity of their affection, but also in the meeting of lips and bodies during lovemaking and otherwise. And in their companionable silences, which continued to hold a tacit acknowledgment that he could tell her whatever he needed, whether he uttered a simple word or two, or the rare paragraph.

Arthur appeared to be somewhere in the middle of that range of need now. It was evident in the tightness of his back as she put her palm on it. Rubbing gently, fingertips tracing his spine, she sought to bring him out. Like she had back when he'd sat on her sofa with his journal, a stand-up fresh off his first performance. The morning she'd realized she'd fallen in love with him.

His sigh let her know her attention was working. "Dr. Ludlow wants to talk about when I was a kid," he murmured. "I won't know what to say. I barely remember anything."

The subject of his childhood was seldom discussed. Even after his mother had passed away last spring; he'd been silent when they'd picked-up her belongings at the home. (He'd thrown out everything besides the periodic letters and photos Y/N had sent, stating "I like reading I make you happy.") They had never gone over the details in the Arkham file. He'd told her he hadn't and wouldn't look at all of it. He'd seen the headlines, scanned the psychiatric interview, touched the adoption certificate. That had been enough.

While he'd guessed she'd looked at Penny's records, she hadn't disclosed that she'd eventually read all it contained. Had learned the details of his neglect and abuse. Had seen the photos of his emaciated, bruised body. Her throat constricted as they flashed in her mind's eye. It was a mercy he wasn't aware of everything that had occurred. Even if his unconscious knew.

Of course, if he asked her, she'd answer any questions he had. Tell him all of it. But she didn't want to burden him. Or for him to feel shame, an unwarranted reaction her experience reading family cases had taught her was common. The two of them would keep doing what they always had: deal with the residual effects of his past, the symptoms of his illnesses together, as best they could. And for what she couldn't help with, he had his doctor and his journal.

"You can say whatever you want." Y/N bunched up the floss and tossed it towards the trash can under the sink, groaning as it bounced off the rim and back at them. "You could bring back some classic parts of your act. The one about how you hated school," she said, nudging his side. "And how the other kids were too unsophisticated to see what a sweet, funny boy you were."

He retrieved the plastic thread and stood up, threw it away. At his scoff, she realized her attempt to lighten his load hadn't worked. "That was, what? Over thirty years ago?" Then he turned to her, his thumb stuck in the waistband of his pajamas. "We have our life now. Why should it matter?"

Reluctance to admit one's past affected the present was understandable. She'd denied it to herself when she'd first moved to Gotham. Burying herself in her work had been enjoyable. And it had had the convenient side effect of allowing her to avoid processing the ways caretaking had changed her. Starting a relationship with Arthur had forced her to stop and take a breath, to examine its impact. It had done her good. She was certain it would him, too.

"Arthur." He took her proffered hand without pause and stepped to her automatically. She pressed her mouth above his navel, laid her cheek against the warm skin of his belly. "I'll be right here for you." The caress to her hair was featherlight and her hold on him tightened. "You've put so much work into yourself. This is difficult but you can do it."

Bending to her, he kissed the top of her head. "Go to bed. I don't wanna keep you up."

"It's all right if you do. I happen to like your company." At last, she succeeded in getting a chuckle out of him and a playful swat to her thigh. But he withdrew and wished her good night. Heading into their bedroom, she heard the click of the lamp in the living room, the opening of the door to the fire escape. He'd be outside for some time, she assumed. Quickly, she got one of his sweaters and brought it out to him. Though he raised a brow at her, his eyes were full of fondness. She slung the wool shirt over his shoulder and pecked his jaw before taking her leave.

~~~~~

Occasionally, Arthur would call her office before leaving for an appointment. He'd never say he was thinking of skipping a session. That he was having doubts they were working at all. That tough days were infrequent yet harsh. His flat tone and pauses clued her in, though. He'd been calm when he called today, and she'd kidded with him until his mood had buoyed and he'd said he was going. Promising a date night, if he felt up to it, had helped.

Currently, Y/N was in line at Marchetti's waiting for take-out. Wanting to catch-up on the evening news, she grabbed a Gotham Journal from the newsstand. Since the murders of Thomas and Martha Wayne in a robbery six months ago, Gotham's malfeasance appeared to have gotten worse. Reports of small businesses being cited for minor code violations, while establishments run by people with the right name and enough money were left to their own devices, flourished. Construction strikes had become more frequent, which she would normally support. But they had a way of ending as soon as the city placed a higher bid. The chief of police had been photographed hobnobbing with a crime boss, but the mayor had taken no action.

On top of it all, the Wayne Foundation, that thorn in her side, was drawing back many of the initiatives it had begun after increasingly austere program cuts. Including services at that damned medical center in Otisburg. They couldn't run out of funds, the board claimed. With the continuously sluggish economy, returns on their investments weren't what they used to be. The organization needed to ensure the Wayne's son would be taken care of.

Y/N didn't buy those excuses. She had nothing against the boy - she couldn't imagine losing her parents at such a young age. But how many mansions, gazebos, and toys did a child need? The skeptical part of her, the one that always suspected an angle, wondered if the increase in the city's corruption and the Wayne Foundations machinations were related...

Stop it, Y/N. Quickly, she shoved the paper back in its spinning rack. If she thought about it too much, she'd find a way to stumble into an investigation she couldn't ignore. While she'd be ready for one and relish it, she didn't want to focus on that tonight.

Their order was ready in about twenty minutes. Arthur and she had gotten into the habit of getting two individual pizzas, borne of his limited willingness to experiment with toppings. Normally, he was happy to take her recommendations, but he insisted cheese was just as good as any other kind and liked to have it to fall back on. She'd gotten Hawaiian for herself. If he was in the mood to eat, she was sure they'd split them.

Happy notes from the Sinatra live album she'd gifted him for his most recent birthday hit her as she opened the apartment door. It was a pleasant surprise. Arthur only listened to the LP when he was doing all right. (It had prompted him to tell her of his wish to go see him in concert together, and he didn't want to taint that with negative thoughts.)

Upon peeking around the corner from the kitchen, she spotted Arthur in his writing nook, scribbling hurriedly and tapping his feet to the beat. He was obviously engrossed, but she didn't think he'd mind if she interrupted. Soon she approached his desk, plates in hand. "Knock, knock."

A gentle snort as he put down his pen, "Who's there?"

"Delivery service." She propped her hip against the edge of his desk, and placed the food next to his journal, along with a paper towel. "You owe me a tip."

"I do, don't I?" He angled his head up and pulled her in for a quick kiss. "Thanks. I've only had coffee since this morning. Just been working on my material." Swallowing, he flipped back a page in his notebook. "How did the little boy learn to get home?" His green eyes met hers, a hiccup of laughter in his throat. He allowed about three seconds before giving her the punchline. "Step by step by step by step."

Her features softened and her grin drifted away as she absorbed what he'd jotted. In the past, his act had contained references to his childhood. References which could have been based on recollections, figments, or both. This was an observation in joke form, as his jests tended to be. "That's clever." She reached to brush a chestnut wave from his forehead, deciding to ask what she'd been curious about since she got in. "I'm glad you're doing so well. I take it therapy went better than expected?"

Nodding, he gave her a tight-lipped smiled, dimples on display. "Mhm." She moved to sit more fully on his desk, straightening as she secured her paper towel to the neckline of her blouse. They munched quietly, glancing between their slices and each other. It was clear he wanted to tell her more. After he finished his first bites, he shifted in his chair. "I remembered something nice."

A weight rolled off her shoulders, and the corners of her mouth turned up. "That's wonderful."

"Yeah." His teeth worried his thin bottom lip, his gaze going to his plate. "I was at school late - maybe I got in trouble for laughing. Penny was supposed to get me. But I think she forgot, so I had to walk home... It was dark. I hadn't gone that far by myself."

With every word he spoke, Y/N's elation ebbed, replaced by sympathy. But she didn't stop him. "The next day was the same. My mother wasn't there." He still switched back and forth between her name and that title, though he used the latter less and less. "I buttoned my coat and tied my shoes on my own." The satisfaction reflected in his expression contrasted with the pain welling in her. "The steps were icy, but I didn't fall once."

A hitched chuckle left him. "Penny stared at me when she finally answered the door. She couldn't believe I remembered the way home. Then she picked me up." His eyelids fluttered. And the beam on his face was blinding. "She said I was a good boy and told me I was big enough to walk home from then on. She gave me a quarter for a movie." His voice became small, as small as the boy in the story. "I think she was proud of me."

Y/N kept her stare fixed to the floor. Her chewing had slowed, then halted completely. A question nagged at her, even as she assumed the answer would hurt. "How old were you?"

A slight shrug in the corner of her eye. "Six? Seven?"

It shouldn't have stunned her that what he'd introduced as "nice" was to the contrary. But she was gutted. The implications behind it tightened her chest. Was it the last time his mother had held him? Had he gone to the damned movie theater alone, too? Why the hell had the city given him back to Penny?

She'd spent a lot of effort helping him learn that it was okay to be angry and upset sometimes. That he didn't have to lie to her about how he felt. That he didn't have to hide if things were too much for him or he had a bad day. And here she was, doing her best to paste on a smile for him. The difference, she supposed, was that it was to protect him. Not to lie to herself.

She didn't want him to have an inkling regarding the tumult she'd experienced in the last five minutes. That this memory wasn't ideal. Telling him how to feel about it would be crossing the line from honesty into cruelty. There had to be a truth in this she could be happy about. And following some pondering, she found one. He had so few memories from his youth. She supposed he'd been fortunate to retrieve one he considered positive, even though it broke her heart.

She permitted herself to sniff once, blinked a few times at the carpet, and looked to him. "I'm glad you have that to hold onto." Thank god she'd managed to keep her voice from wavering. She distracted herself by squeezing his hand, then brought his knuckles to her lips. "You deserve it."

After a sharp exhale, Arthur moved his palm to hold her shoulder and drew her to him. "You know how you needed me to get into NCB studios? To do your job?"

Twisting to put her plate on the desk, she couldn't stop her giggle. It hadn't been her job - it had been the opposite, frankly. "Of course."

"You're like that for me when it's hard." It was a simple comparison, but she thought it was one of the most beautiful she'd ever heard. She pushed her lips to his, titling her head to deepen the connection and cup his cheeks.

He loosened himself from her grip and grabbed the paper towel she'd tucked into her shirt. Laughing, he tried to wipe away the grease she'd gotten on his face. Y/N plucked the napkin from him and weaved her fingers into his silky hair, imploring him not to care. She looked down at him, unable to stop a smile from forming.

Damn, she was a lucky woman. How did he manage to cheer her, even with the ache lingering in her breast? She'd have to be extra sweet to him in the upcoming days. Hug him tighter, longer, until he pushed her off and shook his head with a smirk before pulling her back in again. It would soothe her, allow her to deal with the mixed emotions she felt at his recollection. Ensure his joyful mood stuck around and make him happy.

She'd start tonight. "We can skip Gotham News and watch whatever you want." She tapped his chest. "You pick."

"I like watching the news with you." He grinned, then. "But I rented a movie. A comedy from the thirties. There's dancing."

Comedies were much more his cup of tea than hers. But she'd watch anything to sit next to him, to see joy in his eyes, to hold and be held by him. She nuzzled at him and kissed his cheek. "I'm sure we'll love it."

~~~~~

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve @howdylilflower @sweet-nothings04 @stephieraptorr @rommies@fallenstarsabyss @gruffle1 @octopus-plasma @tsukiakarinobara @arthur-flecks-lovely-smile @another-day-in-chuckletown

#arthur fleck #arthur fleck fanfic #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x female reader #arthur fleck x ofc #joker 2019 #watchwhathappens

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doc-pickles · 4 years

Text

won’t let no one break your heart (part three)

I was gonna wait another day to post this but the group chat made me post it today so you should thank them.

TW// Implied & Referenced Child Abuse

Two and a half weeks had passed quickly from the day Sadie had her surgery. She’d done well, just as Alex had expected, and was loving staying in the hospital. She had the nurses wrapped around her finger and Jo and him came to visit as often as they could. They’d both decided to keep her there as long as they could, knowing that if she was released she’d end up in a home that wasn’t theirs since they hadn’t been approved to foster yet. But the decision had ended up working out well, giving them time to bond with Sadie and giving her time to heal properly.

Molly had been brought by to visit once a few days after Sadie’s surgery, her foster family seemingly nice enough but overwhelmed with three other children at home. The visit had done wonders for both girls and Molly had snuggled herself into Jo’s chest once again, chubby fingers poking at her expanding belly. The three girls laughing and joking together had made Alex happier than he cared to admit, his burdened mind lightening as he watched Jo singing some silly song to them.

If he were honest, he wasn’t sleeping well. Something about Cassie and Molly not being in their home induced a sense of anxiety in him, a problem that he’d never before faced. He knew that they weren’t his and Jo’s children, knew that when they did come to stay with them it would only be temporary, but the thought of the two helpless girls going to sleep by themselves every night didn't sit right with him.

“Go back to sleep,” Jo’s fingers are in his hair, pulling him out of his daydream as she cuddles up behind him. “Or you can come over here, I wouldn’t say no to that.”

Alex turns to face Jo, a smirk lighting up his face as his fingers brush against her cheek. As she entered her second trimester, Jo’s hormones had left her nauseousness behind in favor of a higher than normal sex drive. Alex couldn’t complain, he loved this new side of his wife that he got to enjoy, “Mmm was last night not enough to satisfy you?” Jo’s retort was cut off by the doorbell ringing through the house, the sound eliciting a whine from Jo as Alex rolled out of bed, shrugging on his sweatpants and a shirt, “You know this is getting really old, I’m tired of getting interrupted when things get good.”

“Oh quiet, I’ll be back in a minute,” Alex padded down the hallway to the stairs, taking them two at a time in an attempt to get whoever was there out of his hair sooner rather than later. When he opened the door though, Alex was so shocked that he couldn’t form any words.

“Your paperwork went through,” Martha Lewis stood on Alex’s doorstep, Molly cuddled into her shoulder. “Until we find another placement for them, she’s all yours. They both are.”

“Alex? Who’s at the door,” Jo’s voice sounds from the top of the stairs, Alex turning to look at her as he moves to the side. A gasp leaves her, one hand coming to cover her mouth as she stands unmoving from her spot. “Oh my god…”

“Jo! Jojo, come,” Molly’s small voice is all it takes for Jo to come down the stairs, the little girl practically jumping from Martha’s arms to Jo’s awaiting ones. “Jojo!”

Jo meets Alex’s eyes over Molly’s shoulder, her eyes shining with tears as she looks up at her husband, “For real? She’s really here? I’m not just having a really vivid dream, right?”

He nods, looking to Martha again. She gives him a slight nod, handing Alex a small bag and letting the couple know she’d check on them soon. He barely registers her leaving, his eyes trained on Jo and Molly who are already giggling at each other.

“Well, now we just have to get your sister here,” Alex’s words bring both girls’ eyes up, green and hazel blinking up at him as he spoke. “For now though, how about waffles?”

After eating breakfast and taking a bath, Molly was lying in bed with Jo, content as could be while she read a book to her. The few clothes she’d had in her bag were all in desperate need of a wash, so the little girl was dressed in one of Jo’s shirts that hung loosely on her little body. The view was perfect, Alex thought as he stood in the doorway, it was exactly what he’d always pictured for him and Jo. She was cradling her growing stomach, fingers tracing lazy patterns over the curve as she changed her voice for the different characters in the book. Molly’s head was resting on her shoulder, her own fingers tapping out a rhythm on Jo’s belly as she listened intently to the story. It was just missing one thing…

“I’m gonna run to the hospital, I shouldn’t be too long,” Alex came out of the bathroom fully dressed, kissing Jo and Molly on the forehead as he made his way out of the room. “I put the carseat in your car, in case you need it while I’m gone.”

Jo nodded to him, calling out a quick goodbye that Molly echoed before both girls turned back to the book in front of them. The two were so alike, it was almost scary. If it weren’t for her emerald green eyes and pale skin, Alex might think that Molly was really his wife’s child.

The drive to the hospital was quick, Alex waving at a few familiar faces as he made his way to the Peds ward. He checked over Sadie’s file quickly before entering the little girls room with a smile, “Hey there kiddo.”

“Alex! I missed you,” Sadie was clambering across the bed to hug Alex tightly as soon as she saw him, blue eyes glowing brightly as she looked up to him. “You don’t normally come on Saturdays.”

“You’re right, but I’m here for a special reason. What do you say we get you out of here,” Sadie’s eyes widened as she stared blankly at Alex. “You’re all better, we can get you home today if you want to.”

Sadie shook her head, Alex staring at the little girl in confusion. He thought for sure she’d be excited at the prospect of getting out of the hospital, “I don’t wanna go home, please don’t make me go home.”

A heavy sigh left Alex as he began to understand Sadie’s reluctance to leave. She thought she was going home to her dad, not somewhere where she’d be taken care of. Alex and Jo hadn’t told her that she’d be coming to them since they hadn’t officially been approved to foster and didn’t want to get her hopes up.

“Hey, you’re not going back home. You get to come home with me,” Sadie looked shocked as she looked at Alex, not understanding his words fully. “You get to come stay with me and Jo and guess what? Molly’s already there waiting for you.”

“Molly’s at your house?,” Sadie’s face was scrunched up in confusion as she tried to make sense of what Alex was telling her.

“Yup and you get to come too. How does that sound,” Alex watched Sadie nervously, as if her saying no would break him in half.

Finally after a long pause Sadie nodded, her blue eyes shining with an enthusiasm that Alex hadn’t seen from her before, “Okay, we can get out of here.”

An hour later Alex had successfully gotten Sadie discharged, the little girl waving at all of the nurses on the Peds floor as she sat on his hip. He didn’t think he’d ever been this happy, Sadie chattering on about everything her and Molly would do when they got home. A small part of Alex hoped that his own child would be a girl so he would be able to hear the laughter and cheerfulness that Molly and Sadie brought with them.

He pushed the bittersweet thought to the side as he strapped Sadie into her car seat, not wanting to remember the fact that the girls were only temporary figures in their home.

Alex and Sadie arrived home not long after leaving the hospital, the young girl bouncing with excitement as they walked up the front steps. The duo entered the house, Alex calling out for Jo and Molly who appeared at the top of the stairs. Molly was all but glued to Jo’s hip, only making a move to leave when she saw Sadie. She shrieked happily the whole way down the stairs, Jo pasting a small smile on her face as Molly jumped from her arms to envelop her sister in a hug.

Seeing the sisters reunite and immediately begin playing with each other confirmed for Alex that they’d made the right decision in keeping the two together. Turning to Jo, he expected to find her just as excited as he was, but instead found her with tears in her eyes as she bit her lip harshly, “Hey, what’s wrong? Both girls are here and they’re gonna stay here until there’s a good home waiting for them.”

“Somethings wrong with the baby,” Jo finally moved her gaze from her feet up to Alex. She looked terrified, glassy eyes blinking away tears to no avail. “Molly and I were laying in bed and my stomach started cramping. Everything was fine and now it’s not and I-”

Alex placed his hands on Jo’s shoulders, meeting her eyes in an attempt to calm her down, “Hey hey, it’s okay, take a deep breath. Where’s the pain at?”

“It doesn’t hurt, it’s just crampy and it’s right here,” Jo placed Alex’s hand on the side of her stomach, tears falling down her cheeks as she leaned her head against his chest. “I’m such a bad mom, our baby isn’t even here and I suck.”

“Is that what you felt earlier?,” Alex asked, Jo nodding a yes as a small laugh left him. “Jo, that’s just the baby moving. I can feel it from the outside, that’s a good sign.”

Jo shook her head, looking back to Alex with a frown, “No there’s something wrong, that’s not just…”

Her words stop as a particularly hard kick hits Alex’s hand, Jo’s eyes now blown wide as she stares at him in awe.

“Jojo, what’re you doing,” Sadie’s voice pulls Jo out of her daze, the observant six year old noticing Alex’s hand on her bump. She places her own tiny hand next to Alex’s, laughing when another kick hits in the same spot. “The baby’s moving! It kicked my hand!”

A watery laugh left Jo as she realized that Alex was right and the feeling had really just been their baby squirming around inside of her. She grinned up at him, eyes shining with joy, “You know this means Molly felt the baby before you.” “I’ll let her have this one,” Alex laughed, leaning down to kiss Jo.

There was screaming in the next room, horrible words being tossed around and accusations that held no truth but still hurt to hear.

“Don’t you get near those kids!”

After that, the sound of flesh hitting flesh rung out, a muffled cry following it. The sounds continued like that for a few minutes before silence overtook the house.

“That’s what you get you dumb bitch.”

The sound of glass shattering and a terrified scream sent Alex diving under the covers as he prepared for the worst. He knew when things started breaking that nothing good would follow.

“Alex! Alex!”

Alex sat straight up in bed, sweat drenching his body as he attempted to regulate his ragged breaths. A soft hand settled onto his back, reminding him that he wasn’t a scared kid hiding from his dad anymore. Turning to his left, Alex met Jo’s concerned eyes as her free hand came up to brush his damp hair away from his forehead.

“I'm right here babe, it’s okay,” Jo’s soothing voice instantly caked Alex’s hammering heart as he leaned into her embrace. “You’re okay, it’s all okay. It was just a nightmare.”

He knew why his nightmares had come, knew that walking Sadie and Molly through their troubled realities would inevitably bring his own childhood to the forefront of his mind. Alex hadn’t realized how difficult things would be for him mentally, but Jo had been a great support to him.

If they were honest, the three weeks that Sadie and Molly had been with them were tough on all four people in the household. The first few nights that they’d been together, Sadie and Molly had both woken up with nightmares that dragged them to Jo and Alex’s bed. The nightmares had died down, but both of the girls showed signs of emotional distress at the simplest of things that would set them off.

Jo had reduced her hours at work to spend more time with the girls, but was struggling keeping up with two rambunctious children while growing one of her own. Alex’s time as Chief was coming to an end, something he was shockingly thankful for since it allowed him to help Jo out with the girls more. Martha still hadn’t found a family willing to take both girls, but even with their challenges Jo and Alex couldn't find it in themselves to complain.

“I’m sorry I woke you up,” Alex pressed a kiss into Jo’s hair, one hand running down her back. “I know you haven’t been sleeping well.”

“I was already up, your son has been using my bladder to practice his soccer skills,” Jo swung her legs off the bed, groaning as she padded to the bathroom. “He must be more Karev than Wilson since he’s already a pain in the ass.”

Alex couldn’t help but be amazed at how well his wife had adjusted to pregnancy. She never complained about the aches and pains through her changing body, instead informing him how big their son was that week or silently moving his hand to feel the movements that stretched across her stomach.

Their son.

Alex and Jo had found out just a few days beforehand that they were expecting a little boy. The thought still terrified him, that his son would arrive and he’d find some way to screw him up just as bad as his dad had done for him. He knew that with Jo by his side though, she wouldn’t let him fail in the same ways that his own father had.

A quiet knock on their bedroom door pulls Alex out of his thoughts as he moves to find out which little girl is up at midnight looking for him. When he pulls the door open, he’s pleasantly surprised to see both Molly and Sadie waiting for him.

“Come here you two, before Jo gets back and sees you,” the girls begin to giggle as Alex picks them up and tucks them into the large bed, both of them ducking underneath the covers as they hear Jo exit the bathroom.

“Hmm I guess I should crawl back in bed now,” Jo raises her eyebrows at Alex, who shrugs as he feigns confusion. “I hope my husband didn’t let any sneaky little girls into our bed while I was gone.”

Jo walked around the bed and pulled back the covers, Sadie and Molly bursting into a fit of giggles as soon as they’d been caught. Jo smirked at them, not being able to hide her excitement about having them both near her, “You can stay, but you gotta make room for me in here. I’ve got a little man here who won’t hesitate to kick you if you get too close.”

At Jo’s words, Sadie immediately scoots closer to her side, both of her palms splaying across her bump as she settles into the bed. She waits a moment before a kick hits her tiny hand, a laugh coming from her as she looks up to Jo, “He kicked me! Baby brother kicked my hand again!”

Alex and Jo met each other’s eyes over the girls heads, both of them wearing shocked expressions at the words that Sadie had so casually slipped out. Unfazed by the happenings around her, Sadie curled into Jo, her head resting against her chest. Jo watched as Molly did the same to Alex, her chubby fingers clutching at his shirt as her eyes closed easily.

Watching the look on her husband's face, Jo shook her head with a small smirk, “Alexander Karev, absolutely not. We agreed.”

“I know, I know,” a grin lit up Alex’s face as Sadie’s hand reached up to caress Jo’s cheek, her own hand coming up to instinctively grab the little girl and kiss her palm. “Just thinking…”

“Well stop, that’s what got me knocked up,” Jo raised her eyebrows at Alex, who struggled to stifle his laugh as Molly burrowed further into his chest.

#alex karev #jo karev #jo wilson #jolex #jolex fanfic #jolex fic #jo x alex #greys anatomy #greys anatomy fanfic #nina writes

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richieisabastardman · 4 years

Text

Stop It (Tenth Doctor x Reader)

Summary: You had been travelling with The Doctor since his ninth face, and been in love with him just as long. After the loss of Rose, your friend and The Doctor's companion, The Doctor took on Martha Jones as a co-companion. When you see her pining after The Doctor so hopefully, you try to put a stop to it, for the sake of her heart and yours.

Word count: 1984

Warnings: Angst? A bit of unrequited love but that’s fixed real quick.

Link to Masterlist

“Stop it” you said, staring at the aloof Doctor as he played with his toggles. The Tardis’ toggles that is.

Having returned from your adventures in the Andromeda galaxy, Martha had decided to go rest, the day’s activities proving too much. The Doctor had sent her away with a smile, and she had hovered within the console room for a moment, perhaps lost and distracted by that smile, before sending a curt smile your way and leaving for the TARDIS’ hallways.

“What?” he asked absentmindedly, raising an eyebrow as he finally looked over at you.

“Stop leading her on”

You had been through this. The heart break of loving such an extraordinary being and finding no love in return. Well not no love, just a different sort of love. A platonic love. A lovely love none the less, but not the type you wished for. You had dealt with that (in an unbelievably unhealthy way but that’s neither here nor there) and you were over it.

You were over him.

But you refused to let Martha go through the heartbreak you had to endure.

“Leading who on?”. He was playing dumb. Not a good look for The Doctor. Though you could tell he knew what you had meant by how he avoided your gaze, fiddling around with the console. You had flown around with him enough to know that he wasn’t really doing anything with it, just distracting himself.

You rolled your eyes at his childishness and deciding to indulge in your own kind. “The TARDIS. Playing around with her bits like that and not even buying her a drink first, shameful really, Doctor”

He grinned at you then, his tongue poking out between his teeth for a moment before his gaze was off of you once again and back on the controls of his beloved TARDIS. “Oh we’ve had many drinks together me and her, don’t you worry”.

The silence hung around the two of you then. You had only felt such a heavy silence with the man twice before. Both of you could hear the words yet unsaid floating between you, taunting and teasing (but The Doctor was always good at that, wasn’t he?)

“I was talking about Martha” you replied finally, leaning your hip against the console lightly and staring at the tall man.

“I know”.

“Then why didn’t you reply properly?”.

“Because it wasn’t a statement worth replying to properly ”.

And there was the nastiness that crept up on him every so often. It would poke its head out from behind him and would try to bite your tongue from your mouth (in a very non-sexy way, to be clear). The Doctor had been alive for so long he surely had enough practice with verbal quips that shut down a conversation in seconds. But the malice in his voice when he engaged in such an act was so rarely heard by his companions that when it did appear it was, to put it plainly, scary.

You were used to it now. You had had your fair share of experience with it. When he lost Rose, it was as if any little thing you did was now subject to scrutiny. He had only calmed after you finally had enough and threatened to leave, to go back home and never see him again. That had hurt him. You had hurt him. And part of you felt proud for it because finally someone stood up to The Doctor in his moment of malice and it was you. But when his eyes had begun to water, you had felt bad again. You had felt evil and unlike yourself and so you had held him. He had rested his face within the junction of your neck and shoulder, lost within your hair. He had held you tightly around your waist, pulling you closer and closer to him. And for a moment all the work you had done to stop loving the man had returned with no complaint from you, no sir. The moment had been far too intimate to be just a moment between friends. But every moment felt like that with The Doctor, didn’t it? The fleeting touches, the hand holding, the hand resting gently on the small of your back, the hugging. All of it so intimate.

Yet, the next day after this moment with The Doctor, it was as if nothing had happened. He had busied himself with the TARDIS and finding somewhere new to jet off to. You had mourned for your hope the day before and then moved on, as it was all you could do.

“She really likes you” you say, parting yourself from the memory in which you had been lost in for a moment.

“I like her too” he replies. You wished he would just look at you.

“Not the way she likes you. She adores you. She thinks the sun shines out of your arse”.

“Oi” he finally turned to you “watch it”.

“You know its true though, don’t you Doctor”.

“How do you know all this then, huh? You got psychic powers or something you haven’t informed me about?”.

Because I’ve been in her place, Doctor. I know how it feels. It hurts. Not in the way poets describe it. It doesn’t feel like your heart being ripped out of your chest. It feels your heart… it was never even there. You forget what having a heart feels like. But you mourn for it. And that’s the pain. I don’t want her to feel like that.

Instead, beyond any judgement of your own and perhaps as an act of fate (or malice sent straight from Hades) you replied, “Because I love you too”.

The moment the words left your mouth your eyes widened and your jaw dropped, as though it wasn’t even you who had revealed such a secret directly to the man it was about. The subconscious had become conscious. Surely there were defence mechanisms to stop this kind of behaviour in its tracks. “Damn you, Freud” you mumbled.

The doctor stared at you, his eyes squeezed together in confusion. “What?” he whispered.

“I was thinking about defence mechanisms” you replied quietly, looking at him. He was finally looking straight back at you. You wished he would stare at the console once again, maybe flick a few switches, anything to get his eyes (wide and soft in their gaze) off you.

“What?” the Doctor replied again, shaking his head. “No not the Freud thing, the thing before it”.

Might as well stick to my guns you thought. “I love you too?” you replied, though it released from your mouth as a question.

“Since when!?” he exasperated.

“Since your last face” you replied. You sounded guilty. Why did you sound guilty? Was it the feeling of the words left unspoken between the two of you? Or was it simply the elephant in the room?

Rose.

By any other name she would have caused just as much tension.

He had loved Rose in a way you were sure he would never love you.

He hadn’t stopped staring at you, his jaw tight and his eyes, to you, appeared full of pity.

“Stop staring at me” you said, staring right back at him.

“Why didn’t you-“ he started but stopped himself, answering his own question within his mind. He knew why and suddenly he felt guilty too.

He began to move towards you and you froze where you stood, confused by his actions. You raised your eyes to meet his as he hovered above you. He leaned down to place his forehead gently against your own and shut his eyes gently. You did the same.

Here was the intimacy again, you thought, here are the fleeting touches that we will never talk about again.

But you didn’t stop him. How could you, when his hands moved to rest softly upon your jaw and neck, and you could hear him breathing, heavy and deep.

And then you felt his lips upon yours and you froze. He continued to kiss you, and you reciprocated, kissing his soft lips gently, both of your eyes still shut.

You pushed him away gently, opening your eyes to his face, sullen and confused. His eyes shined in the light of the console room, and you hoped dearly the wetness there was a trick of the lights.

“We can’t do this to Martha” you practically whispered.

You watched him clench his jaw, his sad gaze never leaving your own. “This isn’t about her, is it?”.

You felt a fire and heaviness within your chest at his words, accusatory and all-knowing, but it died when you replied “We can’t do this to Rose”.

And that was the kicker wasn’t it? Whilst you had always felt The Doctor would not love you as much as Rose, you had only really felt that way after she was gone. When you had travelled with the two of them, The Doctor surely treated you as romantic interest equals, flirting and teasing. At first you thought that maybe that was just The Doctor, or maybe that was just who his new, tenth version was like. But his actions proved just a little bit too loving, just a little bit too intimate for it to be the case.

The Doctor had loved Rose. The Doctor had loved you. He had just loved you a little more privately.

Sure, Rose was smart enough to probably know there was some tension between the two of you, yet she had never mentioned it. And then when she was gone, all the feelings of schoolgirl excitement in getting attention from The Doctor became guilt. All his touches that once cause a tingling within your skin and stomach now almost made you ill with regret of things that hadn’t even had the chance to happen.

“Rose loved you” he said, ripping you away from your thoughts. Your guilt.

“Not like she loved you” you smiled.

“Does that mean we can’t love each other?” he asked, though you knew it was rhetorical. “Has she claimed me so that I can’t love anyone else? I have to mourn my love for her for the rest of my life?”

You laughed sadly at that.

“If that’s the case, is it not enough for me to mourn my love of her? Why do you have to do it to?” he continued.

You looked up at him then from behind tears you hadn’t realised had began to form within your eyes. He moved towards you again slowly. He traced his hands down your arms lightly and took your hands in his own. His hands were so soft, you noted, something rare for a man. Though he wasn’t a man, was he? You supposed you should remind yourself of that more often.

The face that stared at you now with tired, red-brimmed eyes would someday be the face of another. The hands that held yours would someday change shape and size and softness. The lips that kissed the skin of your hands now would be a slightly different shape and fullness. The man that pulled you towards him lightly and held your waist tightly against him would someday be another man. And then another man. And then another man. And maybe one day a woman.

And somehow you didn’t mind. Somehow, as he leaned down to place his lips upon yours again, firmly but with so much love, you realised you would not mind at all. Because it would still be him.

You broke away from him again but this time much softer, as he still held you within his arms, hands tightly around you. You stared up at him and smiled and he returned with a grin, wide and cheeky as it always was.

“You can’t keep leading her on” you warned once again, and he nodded his head.

“I won’t”.

#tenth doctor x reader #tenth doctor imagine #10th doctor x reader #10th doctor imagine #tenth doctor #doctor who

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