i've been wanting to make something for this fic for so long

but a B99 Great British Bake Off AU

obviously this involves it being an American edition/season but that’s fine

  • all of the squad are contestants, as well as like, Doug Judy and a couple of others (maybe Figgis just for laughs idk)
  • Holt and Wuntch are the judges, Kevin and the Vulture are the presenters
  • Wuntch, weirdly, is the nice judge for the most part, cos it’s mainly just Holt she hates, Holt is the tougher judge that everyone wants a handshake off
  • they never agree on anything, coming to decisions is a NIGHTMARE which is how Kevin and the Vulture are unofficial judges behind the scenes
  • the Vulture is his usual awful self, slaps Jake’s ass off camera a lot, genuinely makes him really uncomfortable until Gina and Rosa notice at one point and threaten him until he agrees to stop
  • Kevin is the presenter who goes around and reassures people when they are freaking out
  • also he and Holt met in a baking class back in the day which is part of the reason they love baking so much (they bake together all the time at home)
  • Jake is the baker who literally has no fucking clue how he actually made it in bc he has no idea what he’s doing but somehow he just has a Knack and it always turns out amazing (with the exception of a couple of True Disasters)
  • Amy comes from a long line of amazing bakers and is hella competitive, and super meticulous with her recipes and all instructions, means she Stresses during the technicals but she does know her shit and she just has to keep reminding herself that it’s like an exam where she has to learn in advance and remember
  • Rosa relies on family recipes, says she cares about them more than the actual family members who made them, also goes with her own gut feeling (usually involves putting alcohol in the food if she’s not sure what’s missing)
  • Gina learned how to bake via trial and error and general self-discovery during a year where she was forced to stay at home and take things easy after she got hit by a bus (also usually the one putting alcohol in her food)
  • Terry loves baking for his kids and his wife and they’re his biggest fans, all of his bakes are inspired by them/done with them in mind, he gets teary on the show a lot
  • Charles is still his Foodie self, so he gets Very Intense about it all and is the one that tries all the super weird flavours
  • Hitchcock and Scully applied together and everyone’s fairly sure they just got picked for the comic relief but then occasionally one of them will actually bake something really good??
  • Jake falls in love with Amy during a peanut brownie challenge while they flirt over peanuts, he makes heart eyes at her for the whole competition after that, occasionally gets so distracted by how beautiful/adorkable she’s being that he fucks his bakes up
  • Gina falls in love with Rosa after seeing her punching her bread dough, spends the whole rest of the competition trying to pick her up, it starts to take priority over the actual baking and Kevin has Noticed and is subtly trying to help her out
  • Jake and Gina have been besties since the auditions so they start trying to help each other get their girls
  • aaand let’s not forget Doug Judy
  • aka Jake’s ex-best friend from high school, they used to be the baking bros and use cupcakes to pick up girls
  • until one day they were going for the same girl, so they both made stuff to impress her, and she said she preferred Jake’s but then Doug took the credit for them, and took her to prom only to stand her up
  • Jake has never forgotten and never forgiven
  • hasn’t made cupcakes since, too painful, too traumatic
  • which really fucks him up when they get a cupcake challenge
  • seriously like imagine him trash talking Judy and then they announce “cupcakes!!” and he does his melodramatic NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
  • (you decide if he manages to nail it and beat Judy’s cupcakes yet again, or if he totally botches it bc nerves)
  • anyway at one point Jake gets the coveted Holt Handshake and he is so elated his entire life has just been made bc he has been watching the show for years and idolises him so much
  • Amy is the same and she is so horrifically jealous until Holt tries her food next and also gives her a handshake and then her and Jake just look at each other like “WHAAAT”
  • Jake comes over after and is so excited he just gives her this real big hug and it’s really Pure bc then he gets super embarrassed and awkward but she is like “oh no, he’s so cute, help I have been specifically Not Noticing That” 
  • I have no idea who wins but Peraltiago and Dianetti and Holtzner are all in love and happy at the end

basically what I’m saying is can someone with the adequate baking and GBBO knowledge please write this AU I need it desperately

jet-playin  asked:

Hi! Do you know of any fics where Harry and Draco are both Aurors and have to work together? I've read quite a few but haven't come across one in a while. Either permanently partners or firced together for a single case, both work for me. (Note: I have read everything by l0vegl0wsinthedark so, much as I love reading and rereading What Real Thing, I figured it would better to warn you :D Thank you so much for all of your recs, they are so, unspeakably helpful! :)

(Thank you @celticrose1989​ and @awesomesauceuniverse​ for the requests!! I decided to combine these, since fics in which only Draco is an auror/cursebreaker are pretty rare. I was planning to also combine this with a request for just Auror!Harry (with miscellaneous Draco) to make a giant Auror Drarry list, but it ended up being ridiculously long, so that one will come later this weekend! This one is already super long as-is, so I’ve tried to limit my commentary to 2-3 lines. Let it be known that it was very difficult, hahaha.)

Auror/Cursebreaker Partner Drarry Recs

What Real Thing? by loveglowsinthedark / @l0vegl0wsinthedark (13K)- They don’t cuddle, they don’t talk about their relationship (or lack thereof) and they certainly never fall asleep in each other’s arms.
I know you’ve already read it, but you can’t expect me to just not include this amazing sexy pining fluffy piece of wonderfulness in my auror rec list!!! It includes the BEST AIRPORT SCENE (not at an airport) EVER.

Higher and Higher (Temptation) by birdsofshore (28.5K)- Only Harry Potter could manage to put on a magical collar on impulse and find himself unable to take it off again. Now following Draco’s direct orders gives him intense pleasure, and Draco has a whole heap of troubles to deal with, not least the way Potter looks when the collar has him gasping with bliss. The whole situation would test the morals of a saint… and Draco’s no saint.
THIS FIC!! EVERYTHING I EVER WANTED. I STILL REMEMBER CLICKING ON IT AND NEARLY ORGASMING RIGHT THERE and it totally does its description justice! Technically Draco is a cursebreaker here.

Two Weeks by shiftylinguini / @shiftylinguini (22K)- If Harry had to guess which out of he or his Auror Partner, and tentative new friend, Draco Malfoy, would turn out to have Veela ancestry, his answer would be: neither, because that is ridiculous. Finding out the answer is actually him, and that his Veela heritage is wreaking havoc on his ability to work, sleep, and above all be in the same room as Malfoy, is a surprise to say the least. But this is fine. Harry’s been through worse, and he can just sit this one out, regardless of how much his body is screaming for the one person he doesn’t want to ask for help. Can’t he?
WONDERFUL FABULOUS YES TIMES 96382!! Veela!Harry but like, read it even if that’s not usually your thing. GREAT pining!!! Phone sex. P H O N E S E X.

Lift Your Open Hand by firethesound / @firethesound (19K)- With Draco Malfoy as his assigned partner for the next six weeks of Auror training, Harry had been prepared for things to go poorly. But getting themselves accidentally bonded to each other in the first twenty minutes of their very first assignment seemed going above and beyond, even for them.
What could you possibly need that isn’t in this fic? Includes bonding, domesticity, bed sharing, and Nicolas Cage. Perfection <3

Sex on Legs in Six-Inch Heels by tessacrowley / @tessacrowley (10K)- Draco Malfoy is a brilliant freelance cursebreaker and the only one who can help the Department of Magical Law Enforcement with a very dangerous case, but more importantly, he’s wearing six-inch heels, and Harry cannot handle it, he really just can’t.
One of the first fics I read and STILL one of the hottest! The sex is amazing, as is the fact that Draco wears (surprisingly practical!) heels and women’s clothing in general I LOVE IT SO MUCH

Highlands by Seefin / @seefin (16K)- The tent was a joke, that was basically the only explanation he could come up with as to why the Aurors would send he and Draco on a several-month mission with only their most basic model. Once, when Harry had been on one of the big ones, the kind of mission where there was a little Auror camp out in the wilderness, twenty or so tents all pitched practically on top of each other, he had slept in one with two stories. Actually it was more of a mezzanine level, but still. Their current one didn’t even have a fucking toilet. And if Harry were allowed to communicate with anyone other than Draco then he would definitely be lodging an official complaint right about now.
This fic is so sweet and slow (despite being only 16K, idk how she does it!). I love the development of their relationship, and being forced into close quarters is especially w o n d e r f u l.

Little Talks by femmequixotic and noeon / @femmequixotic and @noeeon (11.5K)- Draco’s been shagging the Head Auror for months now, and he’s sure it’s just a fling. Until Harry asks him to a Quidditch match, that is, and things go horribly wrong.
AAAH THE SEX. Also the adorableness! And the whatthefuckishappening a real DATE??? But THE SEX! And the fluff! Sorry I’m incoherent, just READ IT!

Something More by thusspakekate (9K)- After a night of heavy drinking, Harry Potter has a love bite the size of Wales on his neck and an unsigned note from the man who gave it to him in his pocket. The only problem? He can’t quite remember who he brought home with him the night before. And what’s got Draco Malfoy in such a strop?
OMG pining in this one like crazy. It’s obvious why from the summary, right?? Yeah? Just….you’re already feeling the angst, I know it, just read it and let it be resolved <3

One Big Misunderstanding by agentmoppet / @agentmoppet (7K)- Draco will be the first to admit that his choices aren’t particularly clever, especially when they involve Potter, but this has to be the worst one yet.
OH, DRACO. Poor baby sends Harry and Blaise off on a date together and then becomes a jealous wreck and it’s beautiful.

You Send Me (Honest You Do) by firethesound (37K)- As far as potion accidents go in general, and deaging incidents go in particular, Draco knew this could have been so much worse. Harry only lost about ten years, and all his memories are still intact. But the sight of him looking as if he’s stepped straight out of Draco’s Hogwarts memories has dredged up a whole mess of complicated feelings Draco thought he’d buried years ago, and Draco really doesn’t know what to do with any of it.
This is a GREAT use of the deaging trope (without being at all creepy btw, so don’t worry!), and Harry has tattoooooos!! Also more pining pining pining <3 And great writing as always from this amazing author.

Tales from the Special Branch Series by femmequixotic (304K so far)- When Gavin Robards asks him to form Special Branch seven-four-alpha, Harry Potter knows they’ll have to work outside the confines of the law–even though they are the law.
Are you tired of me reccing this series yet? TOO BAD I’LL NEVER STOP MUAHAHA. This list just wouldn’t be complete without it! Who could ever tire of Draco fucking Harry, his senior officer???? NOT ME!!

All Our Secrets Laid Bare by firethesound (150K)- Over the six years Draco Malfoy has been an Auror, four of his partners have turned up dead. Harry Potter is assigned as his newest partner to investigate just what is going on.
Another fic I’ve recced over and over because IT’S THE QUINTESSENTIAL BEST EVER CLASSIC AUROR PARTNER FIC IN MY OPINION so it literally cannot be missing from this list.

It’s the Love of the Chase (That Created the Ride) by lumosed_quill (14K)- Draco and Harry are new Auror partners. It’s a bit dull. Until they finally see some spell action and things get a lot more interesting (in Draco’s pants).
Basically adrenalin rushes from cases make Harry and Draco crave sex and it’s amazing 

One Harry Potter Please (If Possible, Seduced and Ready) by faithwood (62K)- All Draco wants is Harry Potter’s friendship, just to make his new Auror job more bearable. However, after Harry stubbornly pays more attention to his secret admirer, Draco is forced to resort to drastic measures.
So nearly all long-term-auror-partner fics have flangst because how could they not?? But this one stands out to me as being the FLANGSTIEST (this is a word now) EVER. Like an adorable idiot, Draco impersonates Harry’s secret admirer.

The Kaleidoscope Charm, or 50 Shades of Rainbow Magic by Omi_Ohmy (27K)- Getting Draco Malfoy as a boss was not the worst thing that happened to Harry; getting a crush on him was.
Auror!Harry is assigned to work with Draco (of the Curse and Lock Breaking Dept). Also he owns a giant angel statue that looks just like him. ;D

Like Diamonds We Are Cut With Our Own Dust by raitala (11K)- Draco has borne the mark of the Dark Lord for over ten years. It is familiar to him, but he pays the price for it every day, and Harry has noticed.
This fic is just so cool. It’s based on “that picture” by alekina, which I coincidentally reblogged just yesterday and is amazing and HARRY REMOVES DRACO’S DARK MARK YEP

Whoo Knew? by oceaxe (19K)- Despite having had a crush on his Auror partner for years, Draco’s been biding his time and waiting for the perfect opportunity to make his case. But when Harry subscribes to a new wizarding personals service, Draco gets a wake-up call. With new each message that arrives for Harry from a hopeful suitor, it becomes more and more clear that the time to act has arrived.
MORE AUROR PARTNERS BEING RIDICULOUS PINING IDIOTS UNABLE TO COMMUNICATE, BUT THEY DO IT ALL SO CUTELY. And with owls this time!!

Special Fic Rec III by viplourry

You Really Got Me Now by allwaswell16 (6K)

Louis is the best older brother anyone could ask for. He knows this because he’s agreed to help chaperone his younger sister’s school trip to Rome. As it turns out, Italy is full of surprises. Fizzy’s Italian teacher is surprisingly hot, Rome is surprisingly interesting, and Louis is surprisingly falling in love with more than just the city.

73 Questions by literlarry_real (6K)

Louis is more nervous than usual about filming the upcoming episode of Vogue’s 73 questions. Musician and soon to be actor Harry Styles may have something to do with that.

Will Love Be There by lululawrence (13K)

Au where Louis attends a Steve Aoki concert and accidentally ends up with a husband.

You’ll Hear Me Calling for You by pinky_heaven19 (42K)

The one where Harry is an Alpha and Louis has a problem with it - until he doesn’t.

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mooosicaldreamz  asked:

first off, i want to say that i legitimately love every single one of your supercorp fics and have read them perhaps way too many times. in particular, i've read fall A TON. so you're great and i hope writer's block enjoys the ass kicking you're gonna give it. second, if you've got the upper hand on writer's block and want to, i've got a prompt: supercorp and doing charity work? or legit anything you come up with. i will take anything.

It was funny how utterly inconspicuous a hairnet could make one look. All the make up and hoodies and caps pulled down low in the world have not been able to do what an apron, a pair of latex gloves, and a simple hairnet have been able to do.

Then again, perhaps it wasn’t about being inconspicuous but just the plain absurdity of finding Lena Luthor—heir to LuthorCorp and sister to the notorious Lex Luthor—volunteering in a soup kitchen. Who would believe her even if she admitted it to their face? Just the other day she’d been caught on camera wearing a dress that cost more than most people made in a year—someone who could waste money like that could surely hire someone to volunteer at the soup kitchen, or at least donate lavishly (as the Luthors were wont to do) and dispel the desire to freely offer services entirely.  

And yet, for whatever reason—the hairnet, the inability to suspend disbelief, pure and unbridled luck—she was at one of the many soup kitchens scattered across National City, doling out mashed potatoes and gravy while listening to the woman in charge bark orders at the grocers and cooks who were working in the back, and not a single person batted an eye at her.

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EVAK FANFICTION RECS / PART 10

Halla! So, as time comes and goes, I’m here with another masterpost of some of my favorite Evak fanfics for you guys. As you can see, I’m trying to be a bit more creative and make these posts look at least somewhat more appealing, so I hope you like this little header I made (even though I suck at Photoshop).

As always, the list is divided into oneshots and chaptered fics.
My personal favorites are tagged with a “ ★ ”.
Completed chaptered fics are tagged with a “ ✓ ”

Without further ado, all the fanfics can be found under the cut. Enjoy!

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anonymous asked:

Hi there! I just saw your post about soulmate fic ideas and I love them too! An idea I've seen somewhere years ago is that everyone is given a necklace at a certain age and when you get closer (in distance not emotions) to your soulmate, the pendant on the necklace heats up. Maybe Bughead meet while travelling and their necklaces get really hot?

I love a good soulmate au!
***

Jughead sighed, Saturday nights were exhausting in The Southside of Riverdale. Gang meetings always took place in the sleazy beat down dive bar, with about a hundred drunken men in leather jackets trying to make sense of the latest deal they had to get done while simultaneously playing pool and hitting on the Serpent bangers. So yeah tonight had been long.

“Hot dog, I’m home.” He called out to the empty trailer, smiling when he head the familiar thumping of scruffy white paws, the dirty sheepdog standing before him with a goofy grin and slobbery tongue.
“Hey there boy.” Jughead pulled off the heavy leather jacket and flung it over the makeshift kitchen chair plopping down on the couch in the center of the room.

He was tired…all the time. being sixteen wasn’t all it was cracked up to be, he had more responsibilities now that his father was locked up, Jughead had been born a Serpent it was all he knew, but deep down he felt something, something no one else he knew had felt. He wanted more, wanted to be more. He had a friend Archie Andrews, he had met him at the Riverdale Public library one day when he was hiding from a particularly nasty gang fight. Archie had been researching music books and they had bonded over their mutual love for video games and their penchant for fried foods. Archie was the boy next door, bright red hair and a letterman jacket two sizes too big while the tshirt he wore under it was two sizes too small, but he was nice and he didn’t judge Jughead, and that in itself was a feat.

Jugheads fingers wandered up to the clear crystal pendent resting beneath his plain black Tshirt, it was the one thing in his life that was steady, constant, always hanging around his neck, a security blanket almost. He couldn’t believe it when Archie had shown Jughead his own pendent.

“It’s finally cooling down, I just came from Veronica’s house and it was pretty much on fire.” Archie had explained, toying with his pendent, dark purple and black swirls coursing through his.

A soulmate, Jughead squeezed his eyes shut. Archie had been the one to explain the soulmate necklace to him.

“When you find the one you’re meant to be with, the necklace glows, it gets hot, hotter than anything you’ve ever felt. But it doesn’t burn, it feels amazing, its right over your heart, it’s almost like sitting by a bonfire, you can feel the heat but it’s safe and warm”

He wanted it, deep down inside he knew someone like him would never get that, he wasn’t the soulmate type and he was certain his necklace would stay crystal clear his entire life, but… sometimes.. if he stared hard enough, he swore he could see green, he swore there were swirls of gold and meadow green. He was probably kidding himself, setting himself up for disappointment and failure. Wrapping his fingers around the pendent he felt his eyes drift closed, it had been a long day, he didn’t need to be thinking about things like soulmates and silly wishes.

****

“Dilton Doiley? Really? For Cheryl? You’re sure?” Betty was leaning forward on the lilac and lace comforter, the phone snug against her ear as Veronica spilled the gossip of the day.

“I sure am, apparently they never got close enough to each other to find out, but then today, in gym class, they got paired to be partners for tennis and you know where it goes from there, their necklaces lit up like fireworks and soon enough they had each other nearly naked on the gym floor before coach Clayton broke it up.” Veronica giggled from her end and Betty sighed dreamily.

“I’m happy for them, I think Dilton will be good for her… it’s so crazy how we’re paired in this universe..” Betty trailed off, her fingers playing with the edges of her comforter

“You’ll find him B, I promise.” Veronica soothing said, comforting her best friend.

Betty bit back the bitter tears and cleared her throat, speaking in an incredibly small voice
“I just want something like you and Archie have ya know? I just want someone to love me like that.” She whispered.

“And you will. I know you Betty Cooper and you won’t stop until you find him.” The raven haired princess spoke in a tone that left no room for argument.

“Okay Ronnie, I gotta go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Veronica said her goodbyes before calling out for Betty one more time

“Don’t forget, tomorrow is that integration mixer with the Southside Students, I’m thinking leather pants and no shirt, what about you?” Betty could practically hear the smirk on the heiresses face.

“You’ve been watching too much Grease Ronnie.” She giggled before hanging up on her best friend.

Betty plopped down on her bed, eyes drifting closed as her hands found her pendent. she would find him, and hopefully soon because all this waiting was making her head hurt.
***

Veronica couldn’t control her laughter when Betty walked up to her locker before first period.

“What?!” Betty asked defensively.

Veronica settled finally and looked up at Betty out of breath
“It’s nothing, it’s just.., everyone agreed to dress a little more scandalous today, in honor of the Southside coming and you…. I didn’t even know something could be that white”

Betty looked down at her baby blue dress, the skirt grazing mid thigh, her bare arms covered by an impeccable, wrinkle free white cardigan, she wore tiny nude ballet flats and a simple gold chain on her wrist.

“I wore my hair down.” Betty tried, her hands coming up to touch the tips, she wrapped her arms around herself self consciously when she spotted all the girls in mini skirts and tube tops.

Veronica’s eyes softened and she squeezed Betty’s forearm
“You look beautiful, you always do. I’m just teasing, you know that.” She kissed her best friends cheek and Betty smiled.

Suddenly Archie came running through the halls, his eyes set on The two girls as he swooped in, pressing a kiss to Veronica’s cheek. Betty glanced down at their necklaces, feeling the familiar ache of jealousy as they glowed beautifully.

“They’re here! I saw a bunch of bikes pull up, you’re gonna love Jughead guys, he’s so funny man and he’s totally cool.” Archie rambled on and Veronica shot Betty an “is my boyfriend in love with another boy?” look.

Betty rolled her eyes and watched as the Southside teens started filing in, each one bigger and scarier then the last. Betty’s guard went up instantly and she ducked behind Veronica.

“There he is! Jughead! Hey man! Over here!”
Archie was waving to a leather jacket wearing boy in the back, Betty couldnt make out his face but she knew the prominent S on his back meant that he was a Serpent, she had written a research paper on why Serpents should be treated equal and as normal as everyone else in Riverdale. The whole Serpent culture amazed her.

He was walking towards them and Betty could just make out stormy, raindrop blue eyes. Something in her stomach twisted and she stepped closer, trying to get a better look.

Suddenly he had stopped in his tracks, His fingers instantly coming up to grip the necklace hanging on the black string around his neck, Betty did the same and as the two stared at each other a gradual heat was rising in the crystal pendent. A series of blue and black swirls racing through her pendent while his had Gold and green.

He walked closer to her, the pendent becoming unbearably hot but it didn’t bother either of them, Betty could vaguely hear the frantic whispers of Veronica behind her.

They were standing chest to chest at this point and cautiously Betty reached her hand out, stopping quickly and looking the dark haired boy in the eyes, silently asking for permission. He nodded slowly, what she didn’t know was that she could do anything in the world to him and he would just nod. She had him. That was it, he was hers now.

As soon as her tiny fingers brushed the pendent a shining bright light illuminated both of their necklaces, an almost primal growl came from deep inside Jugheads chest as his hands gripped The perfect and proper blondes waist

“Finally.” He whispered before dropping his lips to hers.

She followed with equal fervor, her hands winding in his hair as he held her tight to his chest. After what felt like hours they finally pulled apart.

Neither of the teens said anything until Betty broke the silence

“Betty Cooper, my names Betty Cooper and I guess I’m your soulmate.” Her smile was perfect and her fingers were still playing with the now filled pendent.

Jughead laughed heartily, his own long, slender fingers coming up to play with her necklace
“Can’t believe I got someone like you, you’re pretty as a picture Betty Cooper. I’m Jughead Jones and I am so happy you’re my soulmate.” He smirked crookedly before dropping his lips to hers.

The necklace pressed against each other as a warm glow of sunshine bathed the teens in light. They still had so much to learn about one another but right here, soft white cardigan pressed against worn black leather

They might just be okay.

Tired Of Being Alone

Masterlist

You didn’t notice anything at first. Initially, you had just thought that he was stressed or tired due to all of his hard work and long days at the studio. You didn’t want to think too much into it. It took you a while, but finally saw how different he had become. He wasn’t the same person you fell for a few short months ago. He was colder, more distant than ever. You’d hoped that it was just a phase he was going through and that he would be back to normal in no time. However as the weeks came and went and those weeks turned into months, you realized that you were wrong, that Harry had become a completely different person.

It was hard to pinpoint the exact moment where everything had changed. It wasn’t that one day he woke up and a switch was flipped, making him turn into someone who was closed off and acted bitter towards you when he was usually so kindhearted and loving. No, it was nothing like that. Rather, it was the build up- the subtle changes that were exactly that, differences that were too small to notice. And when you finally realized he wasn’t the same, all you could do was make excuses for him, for the sake of your relationship.

He slowly stopped writing sweet notes to you before he left for the studio in the early hours of the morning. Which you concluded to be him being excited to get back to work, rushing out of your house as quickly as possible to get back to writing. Then, the usual texts and calls throughout the day became less frequent until they stopped altogether. This you put down as him being busy. You two began to bicker and fight a lot more than you used to, which you put down as you going through the “bumpy stage” of the relationship. Despite this, after a while, you had a hard time coming with reasons as to why your relationship with Harry was going down the drain, and it was even more difficult to try to salvage it.

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anonymous asked:

You are the first and only writer I have read for this fandom. I love your work so much, I've re read all your Arrow stories twice (even the Firefly one even though I've never watched it). Do you have any favorite Olicity fics to recommend to keep me from going crazy my first hiatus? (I binged the first 4 seasons last year)

This is awesome!! Thank you! I’m super honored. And do I have recs? Oh yes, I have recs. 

First rec isn’t actually a fic, it’s a resource… @theolicitylibrary. If you want recs, they’ve got ‘em. If you want a specific trope or rating or genre, they’ve got that, too. Have a hankering for a fic where Oliver and Felicity are business rivals? There’s a link for that. Where she’s the vigilante instead? There’s a link for that, too. Where one of them is a werewolf? Yup. They’re an amazing resource and you can lose days (and weeks and months) going through lists of alpha/omega tropes and rockstar AUs and friends-to-lovers fics. 

But more specifically… how about I rec some authors, too? I haven’t been reading much lately - I spend all my time writing - so I’m more comfortable reccing authors I know are amazing and whose works I’m looking forward to catching up on. They’re all consistently excellent. This is by no means an all inclusive list.

@dust2dust34 - My co-writer for FiCoN and personal fav (though I admit to no small amount of bias). If you want smut and you want details and mining a scene for feelings, Bre is your girl. She has plenty of oneshots to choose from as well as some multichapter fics.  

@machawicket - Look, I can’t overstate Danielle’s skills as a writer. My husband doesn’t even read my fic but he likes hers. Her writing is funny, sweet, sexy and heartbreaking in turn but it’ll never leave you unsatisfied. She’s a master. 

@anthfan - Nikki is one of those writers that’s so good she makes you forget you’re reading a story, because it’s just something you’re living. It’s an experience. Her characterization is spot-on and her plots are super engaging. She writes both one-shots and longer stories. They’re all worth your time.

@hannasus - Susannah’s writing is the perfect balance of detailed exposition and tight narrative that lets you feel like you’ve experienced the whole setting in just a few lines. Add to that fully in-character characterization and interesting plots that keep you reading and you really can’t go wrong. I recommend reading her Something Like Fate series ASAP as she’s adapted it into the basis for an original novel (which she’s publishing later this year) and it may not be up on AO3 a whole lot longer. 

@rosietwiggs - I can always tell Rosie’s work in just a few lines. Her narrative voice is so very distinctive and so gripping that it pulls me in effortlessly. I don’t believe she’s writing for Arrow anymore, but even her unfinished works are worth a read. I especially recommend The New Normal, Lengths and How The Mighty Fall In Love.

@supersillyanddorky06 - I’d be surprised if you hadn’t heard around about Matty’s writing because she’s right at the core of the Olicity fandom’s best known fanfics. With good reason. She’s prolific, plotty, smutty and evocative. If you have a weakness for Bratva!Oliver, I’d start here. 

@jsevick - I first met Jaimie after reading her Jurassic Park AU (really!) and being both delighted and amazed that she could make it work. I’m extremely lucky to have had her help as my beta pretty much ever since. If you like my writing, she’s a big part of it (along with @alizziebyanyothername). While she hasn’t posted in a while, her stories are just fun and if you like Gilmore Girls, her Arrow AU for Gilmore Girls is a treat!

@realityisoverrated-fic - I have no idea how you would feel about Smoaking Billionaires, Anon (I personally love it), but I’ve got to very highly recommend her Infinite Love series. At 110 parts and counting, it deals extensively with Oliver, Felicity and Tommy’s family longterm, including their kids. It’s alternately hot, sweet, and heartbreaking. But, most of all, it’s just well-written and interesting. If you’re willing to read them as a triad, I cannot recommend this strongly enough.

@geneeste - I would pay for more of Caught a Long Wind. Quite literally. But, that aside, Genie is a top notch writer. Whether her one-shots, WiPs or brilliant, ongoing epic co-written work with @machawicket, everything she writes should be devoured. 

@juliesioux - Julie uses the setting in a story as another character. There’s so much life to the world she puts her characters in that it practically breathes. Above that, she doesn’t shy away from hard topics. She will rush in head-first and dig deep to explore what her characters are going through. When you read her work, take her warnings seriously, but if you’re looking for a rich story to read that challenges you, she’s the perfect option to turn to.

@thatmasquedgirl - One of the most prolific Olicity fic authors (with 110 fics, including the absolute opus Technical Assistance). She’s consistently excellent, creative and she gives us as a fandom a whole lot to read. You can probably spent a huge chunk of hiatus happily buried in her work.

@entersomethingcleverhere - As a rule, I do not read first person stories. Not even when they’re published books sitting on shelves at my bookstore. I will break that rule for her writing. I like it that much. It’s heartfelt, moving, well-paced, and the connections between her characters are both real and evolving as you go. 

@arrow-through-my-writers-block - Shelby is… well, she’s just fun! She’s a solid writer who never disappoints. She’s got quite a few one-shots and a few ongoing multi-chapters. She’s probably best known for Starstruck, but all of her work is worth reading.  

@wagamiller - I just really love wagamiller’s work. Like a lot. There are very few authors I have on alert, but wagamiller is. Stories that make me laugh out loud are few and far between, but the 35B series surely did (as did @machawicket‘s Unbearable Hotness of Being, btw). Strong, sharp, witty writing that will leave you with a grin on your face.

@callistawolf - When I think of Callie’s work, I think of the fanfic version of sitting down with some hot cocoa and curling up with a warm blanket to watch a Hallmark Christmas special. She’s consistently excellent about finishing her work, which is lovely, and you can pretty much always count on a feel-good romantic ending. 

@hopedreamlovepray - Writing one-shots that stick with your reader is hard. Keeping a story to 1-2k and still being impactful is even harder. She absolutely manages it every time. Hope27 (as she’s known on AO3, so you can find her) has something like a hundred Olicity fics. These are, in my opinion, absolutely perfect if you want to lose yourself in a story on the train to work or during your lunch hour. 

@dettiot - Mel has a lot of great stories (like really great). My favorite is probably the “ink in my pen ran dry” series, but that’s a really tough call. Core Curriculum is super hot. The Felicity Stark series (crossover with Avengers-verse) is brilliant and fun and made me giddy while reading it. Beauty in the Breakdown is excellent. Jerry the EA series features one of the best takes on a relative OC I’ve read in fics. Love is Red made me squeal like a teenager with excitement (I’m not ashamed; it was warranted). And Two Men, Same Name (written with @melsanfo) is one of those that I am absolutely dying for the time to catch up on. While I’m at it, let’s rec Mel Sanfo, too. Her Masquerade is another novel-length fic absolutely worth a read. You really can’t go wrong with either of these ladies. 

@ash818 - Ash is freaking awesome. So, here’s the thing. Her Legacy series is mind-blowingly good. I have to admit, I’ve only read The Man Under The Hood in the series (this is intentional, for a reason you’ll see in a moment, but you need to read all of her work ASAP, okay? You do). This series… you’ve got future, married Olicity with teenage children as they continue their mission. There’s action, plot, heartbreak, angst, love, everything you could want. It’s in first person from their son’s perspective which is something I would probably never have clicked on in the first place had it not come highly recommended, but good lord is it amazing. All of her characters have life. All of them have depth. Her OCs are fully formed and vital to the story without overshadowing characters you already know. I haven’t read the later stories because after I decided to continue on with FiCoN verse, I didn’t want to inadvertently shade my views on Olicity’s growing family and continuing mission with anything she did in her series. If anything I do happens to run parallel to her work, I want to know beyond any doubt that it’s 100% coincidence. But her stories are something I’m absolutely itching to get to read… eventually. Her writing is excellent.  

@tinaday3w - I’m tempted to say “JUST READ IT” but that’s probably not enough… But really, just read it. No one does slow burn like Tina. Victorian era AU with pirate!Oliver? Yes, please. Hello. I’ll take two.

@emmilynestill - She’s just so good. And sooooo hot. I don’t know if you know this, Anon, but writing a good sex scene is hard. You don’t want your reader pulled out of the scene by wondering if a position is actually possible or when underwear came off (or if it did) or how gravity isn’t making them collapse. Like… smut is difficult. But it reads so effortlessly with Emmilyne’s writing. And, beyond that, she weaves it in beautifully with plot that keeps you wondering what’s next and emotion that builds and grows in an organic way. Orgasms and organic feelings. Honestly, what else could anyone really want?

@ruwithmeguys - Jess will gut you and leave you asking her to do it again. Indecent Proposal… just… read the warnings and be ready and read it with a lot of time on your hands and probably in chunks because ouch. But still… read it.

@academyofshipping - Sarah has this dry sense of humor that comes out in her fics that’s as clever as it is fun. Fluffy, funny, smart, cute and rich with feeling, Sarah’s writing is consistently strong. 

@someonesaidcake - Felice is fantastic for completed, multichapter AU fics. She has quite a few and I’m pretty sure every single one included smut at some point (if that’s your thing) as well as plot. 

And… I’ve spent like an hour and a half on this which was a lovely diversion for my day. I know I’m forgetting amazing people but I have to stop here. When in doubt, take the title of a fic you like, google that name in quotes along with “rec list” and find someone’s list where that story was included, then explore the others. Or, check the bookmarks on AO3 of an author you like, that’s a great place to mine for fics, too. And, again, I can’t rec @theolicitylibrary enough. That said… happy reading, Anon! We’ll get through this hiatus together… through fic and sheer force of will. ;-)

and when you start to feel the rush

Summary: dan’s never had sex with a boy and he wonders what it’s like.  phil says that he can show him. (literally just 2009 first time porn with minimal plot)

Word Count: 5.9k

Warnings: smut (blowjob, butt sex ya know the whole deal), swearing

A/N: i literally haven’t written in almost two months but for some reason i felt possessed to write practically 6k words of porn in two days so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ who even knows at this point tbh (title from Heaven in Hiding by Halsey)

ao3 link


Dan had never really been so sure about liking boys.  Sure, he had identified as bisexual for a few years now and he liked the way that felt.  It certainly seemed like a label that fit when he thought about all the cute boys he saw in movies and a couple that he had brief crushes on over the years.  But more often than not it seemed like the other boys his age were too brash and loud.  And yeah, most of the time he was like that, because after all, he was young too.  They were all just trying to figure things out and they would probably calm down with age.  

Nevertheless, this made Dan feel like he would never actually like a boy enough to want to date one.  He wanted someone that he could have an emotional connection with too, not just something physical like all the boys he met at parties seemed to want.

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the loft was heavy with navy blue as the sun set, all contrasted by the flickering light of yellow gold candles close to the windows and scattered throughout the living room. the light was catching on the tight lines between magnus’s eyebrows as he stood near the window, a glass of whiskey in his fingertips and a darkness underneath his eyes. it had been about an hour since magnus had stepped through a portal back into the loft after a day spent halfway across the globe, negotiating the unlawful imprisonment of a warlock in the london institute. the warlock was free, but magnus’s shoulders still had the tight clawing pain of stress clinging to them. his neck was tense, his jaw tight and his whole body felt like it had been straining against his anger for entirety of the day. which was because it had been.

the alcohol was numbing his tongue, thick, warm and fuzzy but it didn’t seem to be doing much else for the rest of him. all he could think about was sinking into bed but his mind was abuzz, flipping through too many thoughts, too many feelings. he knew the minute his head hit the pillow it would only get worse. all of those thoughts would grow into a roar that would make it impossible to slip off to sleep. so he brought the glass to his lips slowly and took another long sip, the silk of his shirt shifting, a huge sliver of his chest showing as he took another slow, heavy breath.

when it happened, he felt it. that familiar tremor in his wards, the shift of a certain person through his lofts protections. it made his eyelids dip just slightly but he was too lost in his own thoughts to acknowledge it, turning and heading back over to the bar cart to pour himself another whisky. he was just pulling the top off of the decanter when he heard the click of the door and then when he finished pouring himself a glass, the thud of footsteps slow across the floor echoed towards him. so he was ready when alec pressed up against him, arms sliding slow around his waist, his chest pressed to his back. “hey you.”

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I want more fics where Stiles is unaffected by Derek’s hotness. Like, real people interact with attractive ppl every day without making a fool of themselves or drooling or doing stupid things. Instead of Stiles being dumb, unable to talk, or immediately falling in love with Derek, I want him to look at Derek, think “wow that guy’s hot,” and then immediately go “that dude is out of my league so moving on.” So, Stiles just treats Derek like he does everyone else.

Derek is really really into Stiles. So, he does everything he can to impress Stiles. He wears tight jeans, tank tops, works out with Scott and Danny in front of him, and takes off his shirt and walks around him front of him. Except…nothing works. Derek never has trouble getting people he wants. He knows he’s hot, and so he works that. Except it’s not working on Stiles.

And Derek is really really confused. Whenever he takes off his shirt or wears his best ass-hugging jeans, Stiles notices, sure. But so does Allison, who’s basically married to Scott, and Lydia, who Derek has overheard screwing Jackson too many times to count for the past couple years. Kira blushes, and Erica - well, Erica may be engaged to Boyd, but she never misses an opportunity to put her hands all over Derek’s sweaty abs and pecs. Danny always fucks him with his eyes, and Parrish stares a little too long, his cheeks a little too pink, and Derek thinks maybe he should hook up with Parrish again just to appease his bruised ego. Because Stiles looks, but then he stops looking because apparently it doesn’t impress him.

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16-year-old Yuri Plisetsky is a young noble. He’s pretty happy with his life - he’s the youngest son, so he’s not expected to take over the estate or shoulder any responsibilities. He just kinda…does whatever the hell he wants.

No one really knows where Yura is most of the time either. He just…sometimes disappears for weeks at a time, and no one really bothers to find out where he goes (visiting his best friend Otabek in the neighbouring kingdom).

No one really cares because Yura is not only the youngest son, he’s also a bastard.

He’s not really too upset. He’s made his peace with it. He’s never really gonna amount to anything in life. But then. Surprise surprise, turns out the man his mother had had an affair with was a cousin of the Queen mother.

The current king, 35-year-old Viktor Nikiforov, doesn’t have any heirs, with no plans to have any either, and so he decides to name his young cousin, Yura, as his heir.

And so, overnight, Yura finds his status in life completely changed, not that he’s complaining - don’t look a gift horse in the mouth and all that.

He’s all packed up and moved to the palace within a week.

But being a prince isn’t all fun and games, like his old life had been. He has new responsibilities to carry out and countless things to learn - from history and foreign policy, to swordplay and ballroom dancing. Yura takes to his new life like a fish to water - he finds he likes to learning about all these things, likes serving his country well as its future ruler.

The only thing that puts a damper on things is his new guardians - he quickly finds out that rumours of the king’s frosty relationship with his husband are 100% true. Though they may present a strong, united front to the public, it becomes immediately clear that Viktor and his consort, Yuuri Katsuki, the first prince and younger brother of the queen of Yutopia, can barely stand each other.

Viktor Nikiforov truly lives up to his reputation as the ice king - he’s always distant, his eyes cold and calculating, his smile devoid of any warmth whatsoever. He’s coldly untouchable, barely even human.

On the other hand, his husband Yuuri at first seems to be his complete opposite, but is in fact just the same. He smiles sweetly at everyone, warm and friendly. He likes helping people out and listening to their troubles and taking care of them.But despite all that, he keeps everyone at arm’s length. He listens, but he never talks about himself, never leans on anyone else, never talks about his own troubles or his fears or his aspirations. He never lets anyone see him as anything less than perfect, composed, untouchable.

Yura has to have dinner with both of them once a week, and those single-handedly the most stressful times of his week, the moments he hates the most - the tension is always so thick he could cut it with a knife, turning the delicious food to cardboard in his mouth.

After a month of living at the castle, Yura finally learns what the deal is between the two.

He’s having tea with Lady Babicheva one day, and she tells him that things hadn’t always been like this between the king and his consort. Mila tells him that once upon a time, Viktor and Yuuri had been head over heels in love.

Yura doesn’t believe a single word of it. “What happened, then?” he asks skeptically.

“The Queen mother was killed,” she tells him softly, voice barely above a whisper.

Yura is confused. "I thought she had a heart attack?” he asks.

Mila leans in conspiratorially, dropping her voice even more, so that Yura can barely hear her. “It was covered up by the king,” she tells him, eyes darting this way and that to make sure no one is around to hear them.

“Why?“ asks Yura, still confused as all hell. "Wasn’t the king said to be extremely close to his mother? I’d think he’d be the one most eager to see the killer put to justice!”

“He was!” Mila confirms. “But he was putting the safety of the country before his own feelings.”

Yura is confused for a few seconds more, before horrible realization suddenly dawns on him, and a wide-eyed, horrified expression comes on his face.

Mila nods. “Prince Katsuki admitted to having her assassinated." 

And suddenly, everything makes sense to Yura. Before Viktor and Yuuri had married, their two countries had been at war for generations. They had formed a shaky truce only two decades ago, and the marriage between Viktor and Yuuri had been meant to strengthen their alliance.

The Queen mother had been an extremely popular ruler in her time on the throne, and if it had come out that she had been murdered by her own son-in-law, a war would have been unavoidable.

When she had died though, the two countries’ economies had only just gotten back on their feet, and they were both still working to rebuild. Another war would have been disastrous for both sides.

So Viktor had let his own emotions take the backseat, had told everyone that she had died of a heart attack. Within the castle walls, however, he had taken drastic measures. He had put his husband under 24 hour surveillance.

(The rest of the world had cooed at how sweet it was, that he was so worried for his husband’s safety that he had given him four constant bodyguards to protect him at all hours of the day)

Yuuri had been forced to move out of their shared bedchambers. He had been sentenced to house arrest, forbidden from leaving the palace grounds unless he was attending official functions with Viktor. He spent most of his time alone, in his lonely tower bedroom. 

Officially, the reason for all this was that Yuuri was sickly - that he stayed indoors due to his failing health. Only a select few in Viktor’s inner circle knew the truth of it.

And even now, five years later, Mila is still heartbroken about it all. She used to be close to Yuuri, had spent many an afternoon strolling with him through the castle gardens and giggling with him over tea and court gossip. She still misses her friend like an almost physical ache, and his betrayal is still an open wound.

Yura, however, is still somewhat skeptical. Something feels……..off to him.

He tries to stay away from Yuuri for a while after that,, just to be on the safe side. But the more he thinks about it, the more things just don’t add up, and the more he becomes *convinced* that there’s something up

(There’s no way anyone can just pretend to be that disgustingly nice all the time.)

There’s nothing more that Yuri hates than an unsolved mystery, and so he starts going out of his way to talk to Yuuri, to spend time with him.

Yuuri is surprised at first, but absolutely delighted. After so many years of isolation, it’s nice to have some social interaction. He had thought he would spend the next few decades alone, until Viktor had finally abdicated his throne, and Yuuri might hopefully be dismissed to move back to his family’s home in Yutopia, his duty complete.

The two Yuris grow extremely close over time, and Viktor starts to get wary, worried that his husband is trying to influence his heir as well. He tries to keep Yura away from Yuuri, trying to keep the impressionable teenager safe. But Yura keeps sneaking his way into Yuuri’s chambers, even after Yuuri warns him to stay away for his own safety.

Eventually, after several months of this, Yura finally gets the truth out of Yuuri.

The assassins had, in fact, been sent by a noble house from the country of  Svizra, one of their longtime allies, without the knowledge of their king Giacometti. The nobles had been hoping to take advantage of their weakened state in the aftermath of the war with Yutopia, and he been trying to instigate a war. 

A war which would almost certainly have spelled the end of the Nikiforovs’ dynasty.

But they hadn’t accounted for just how fiercely loyal Yuuri was to his husband and his new country. If the public had found out that the Queen mother had been assassinated by their supposed allies, there would be no way to avoid a war - whether a war with the country of Svizra, or a civil war.

So Yuuri had claimed all the blame himself. Because he knew that, with their precarious alliance on the line, there would be no way Viktor would be able to  take official action against him, and would be forced instead to cover up the fact that foul play had been involved.

Yuri Plisetsky is rightfully horrified, and absolutely furious. "What the hell, dumbass!? WHY DIDN’T YOU JUST TELL VIKTOR ABOUT IT?” he demands. “You didn’t have to take all the blame! Viktor would have understood!!!”

And Yuuri and his bleeding heart refuses to look at Yura when he replies, quietly, that he didn’t want Viktor and Chris’s relationship to suffer because of it. Because even if it was proven that the king had had no part in the assassination, his failure to notice the growing unrest in his court would have put strain on their alliance. And Svizra is a powerful country whose friendship will be indispensable in the future while their two countries rebuild themselves.

Yura wants to just scream because it’s not fucking fair and Yuuri is a dumbass for trying to fix everything himself, and Viktor is a dumbass for believing someone like Yuuri could ever betray him, and Christophe is a dumbass for not being able to stop all this, and everyone is just SO FUCKING STUPID.

Yuuri manages to get Yura to stay quiet about the whole thing.

He promises not to say anything to Viktor outright, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try and make his stupid cousin see his mistake somehow.

Yura starts spending more time with Viktor - starts trying to get past the icy barrier of hurt and betrayal he wears around himself like armor. 

Viktor is slightly suspicious at first; suspicious that Yuuri has put him up to this. But it’s as good an opportunity as any to sway Yura back to his own side, and maybe keep him out of his husband’s clutches.

It doesn’t take long for Yura to get Viktor to spill the story of the assassination to him (Viktor hopes it’ll serve as a warning for Yura to stay away from Yuuri, to make him see that the man is dangerous)

And from then, Yura starts planting the seeds of doubt in his stupid cousin’s mind.

"What motivation would he even HAVE to kill her!?” is the first thing Yura demands. And it stops Viktor short, because he’d somehow never even thought of that.

It takes quite a bit of effort to make Viktor come around. (Because Viktor wants so badly for it to be true, for Yuuri to be innocent. He wants so badly to have his sweetheart back, but he just knows that if he lets himself hope, but it turns out that Yuuri is exactly the kind of cold-blooded murderer they think he is, it will absolutely DESTROY Viktor.)

Yes, it takes Viktor quite a while to finally come around, but even he isn’t able to keep up forever against Yura’s pointed questions and the nagging doubts that have started to grow and fester in his mind.

And when he finally caves and decides to have a proper investigation into the matter, Yuuri’s admission of guilt, his supposed motives for killing his mother-in-law, it all falls like a wet paper bag. There are more holes in his story than a slice of swiss cheese.

And Viktor is just. So ANGRY.

Angry at himself for ever believing that his sweet Yuuri would do something so treacherous when all this time it was quite the opposite, when Yuuri was ready to give up his own happiness, his own reputation, to keep his beloved country safe.

And he’s angry at Yuuri too. Because they lost FIVE WHOLE YEARS. Five years of kisses and cuddling, five years of laughter and love, five years of happiness.

And he’s probably never going to forgive himself for the way he’s treated Yuuri in those years.

But now they have a lifetime to make up for it.

And finally, Viktor has something more to live for. He’s no longer stuck just going through the motions.

It’s not all perfect, he’s never going to get his mother back, but he has his husband, and that’s good enough for him.

Yuuri is an absolute sweetheart who’s beloved by his people, so when news spreads of his supposed “miraculous recovery”, his return to health, the people are overjoyed.

The servants in the palace are delighted to be allowed to talk to and laugh with him again. They fuss over him for months afterwards, worrying about him pushing himself too much (and Yuuri always feels so guilty about lying to them.)

Mila and Georgi and the other nobles who had known the truth behind Yuuri’s apparent “sickness” that had rendered him bedridden for the past five years are ecstatic as well.

They’re so happy to have their friend back, and after five years of heartbreak and misery, everything is right in St. Petersburg again.

anonymous asked:

I kno everyone speaks Japanese in the show bc it's a Japanese show, but I've looked through the wiki and I don't think Viktor actually knows Japanese??? It's not listed among his known languages in the trivia section (Russian, English, and French). I couldn't find what languages Yuuri speaks but it's likely he knows English from living in the states, so maybe they communicate through English??? I bet Viktor learns Japanese over time, but I don't think he already knows it at the beginning.

Hey there!!! So, I scoured the net to find both canon and fanon sources. In this interview it’s confirmed that Yuuri and Viktor use English as base language of communication, and they’re both fluent. As you said, though, it’s also confirmed that Viktor’s fluent in Russian, English and French. Nothing is said about Japanese. In that regard, this post is super interesting. I’ll quote some of the tl;dr points here for practical reasons:

  • When Victor speaks Japanese he sounds like a foreigner
  • Victor maybe has rudimentary Japanese skills, but not enough for him to understand or participate in complex discussions. (Example: ep 4, when he has to ask Yuri what everyone is talking about.)
  • Every person Victor has had an in-depth conversation with so far has good English skills.

So, from auditory cues we can tell that Viktor does actually know a little bit of  Japanese, but his conversational skills are stilted at best. He uses English to communicate with Yuuri, Minako, the Nishigoris and other international skaters. I guess he does too with Mari? The funny thing about this is that, while in Hasetsu, people like Yuuri’s parents will most likely speak dialectal Japanese, which is harder to grasp and understand than regular Japanese, much less to learn.

Let’s keep in mind that Viktor already knows cyrillic and the roman alphabet, and has probably been studying English and French since he was 8/9 years old (even younger, if he was home schooled). Nonetheless, the fact that he’s fluent in both is still no small feat. If anything, I’d say he has a knack, or we can call it a talent, at grasping the basics and going with it. So a wild guess, before going to Japan he took like some online courses real quick to learn a general knowledge of it, for example how to ask for the bathroom and directions and food, drilled some useful vocabulary into his head and flew out because he just couldn’t make Katsuki Yuuri wait, now, could he? Once he got there, his skills gradually improved with time and practice. Actually, I really like thinking that he started learning Japanese directly after the banquet because he fell so hard he wanted to shorten the cultural distance between them immediately. (I read a marvelous fic about the whole language topic, I absolutely recommend it, it’s Repeat After Me by queenieofaces)

And now, my hcs on the thing because of course.

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“Is Bruce in here?” Tim figured he might be— Bruce spent a lot of time in the children’s wing of Wayne Enterprises. There were a dozen or so kids in daycare most weekdays, and Bruce liked to hang out.

Tim liked to hang out too. They had nice snacks, and he’d known most of the kids since they were toddlers. And sometimes naps were mandatory.

“Conference call,” Damian told him. (For someone who claimed to hate naps, snackfood, kids, and humanity in general, Damian also spent a lot of time in the children’s wing.) “I don’t know where.” 

He went back to what he was doing, which was arranging a set of pewter soldiers into a complex model of a battlefield, presumably for the benefit of the preschooler sitting next to him. 

“What’s this?”

“The Battle of Issus, 333 BC.”

“Right, obviously.” Tim decided he was curious, so he settled down on the mats to watch.  Damian finished his model; he pulled a marker from the art table and used it as a pointer. 

“Okay. This is the Macedonian army, outnumbered but in the better tactical position, south of the Pinarus River. Their leader is Alexander the Great. And this—” He pointed to his enemy line. “—is the Achaemenid Empire. They’re about to lose.”

Damian tapped his marker on the Macedonian right. “This is the companion calvary, Alexander’s elite force, and they—” he cut off when he noticed his pupil digging in the toy bin, clearly distracted. The kid came up with a battered Transformer, which he set behind Damian’s lines. 

“Elliot. Alexander did not have robots.”

“But,” said Tim, rummaging through the box himself, “did he have wizards?” He pulled a bearded magician out of the tub and held it up for Damian to see. 

“You know he didn’t.”

Tim passed the wizard to Elliot. “But what if he did?”

“Drake.”

“How would that go?”

Drake.”

“Abracadabra, Alexander!” Elliot yelled, gleefully smashing through Damian’s entire left flank.

“Damn it, Drake.” Damian sighed in frustration— not quite the rise Tim was hoping for, but still something. He dropped Elliot’s discarded robot back into the box.

“I don’t know what you were expecting,” Tim told him. “Elliot’s four. He’s too young for— what is this— military history?”

“He was doing fine before you showed up.” Damian started to re-erect his soldiers, but he gave it up after Elliot came in for a second pass. “Which is typical, isn’t it?”

“Good one.”

“Thank you.” Damian crossed his arms. “Fine. I’ll bite. When is he supposed to learn this kind of thing?”

“High school? Maybe never.”

“That can’t be right.”

“Have I ever lied to you?”

“Frequently.” Damian rolled his eyes. “I’m getting a second opinion.”

“I’ll wait.”

Damian checked the room for potential allies. “Thomas?” he called over his shoulder, “You learned military strategy as a kid, right?”

Duke looked up from the book he was reading to a pair of kindergardeners. “Just you, man.”

“Told you.” Tim fished a bag of plastic ninja from the toy box and arranged them pointedly into a row. “How are you still surprised by this kind of thing?”

Damian glared at him. “Okay, first of all? I’m not a— hold on a second. Elliot!”

Elliot froze with a large, plastic dinosaur held aloft over the battlefield. He drew it sheepishly back to his chest. “Sorry.”

“Not in the calvary wing,” Damian told him. “You’ll scare the horses.”

“Here?” Elliot pointed to the front of the phalanx.

“Yes.”

“RAWR.”

“Aim for his center.” Damian turned back to Tim. “Anyway. Why are you still talking to me? I thought we had an agreement about unnecessary contact.”

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(You Turn Me Into) Somebody Loved: Connor/Reader Soulmate AU

Summary: All things considered, you’re probably not the first person to find your soulmate after spotting their signature on somebody’s cast. The magic of that moment doesn’t fix everything, but it fixes enough.

Word Count: 6616


You had pictured the first day of your senior year more times than you could count. You envisioned making the familiar drive, walking into a school you knew like the back of your hand, and finishing high school with the same people you started it with. The beginning of a year full of stress and fun and college applications and parties.

None of those visions looked like this: sitting in your car outside of a new school half an hour before the first bell, your thighs sticking to the seat while you tried to work up the nerve to walk inside. Your nails scratched at the leather of the steering wheel while you took a few deep breaths and let yourself run the numbers again. You ghosted your hand over the name scrawled just under your collarbone, the one that had appeared like clockwork on your sixteenth birthday. The one that belonged to your soulmate.

Connor.

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Title: This Distance Hurts but I Live for These Moments 

Pairing: Link / Prince Sidon 

Rating: General 

Tags: fluff with a little angst, relationship communicating, sweet with a little sad, fish prince loves a blondie 

Summary: Link and Sidon spend some time together after being apart for a couple of months but growing worries and fears about their relationship pop up and demand to be recognized

Continue reading here or check it out on AO3! Comments, reblogs, and kudos are appreciated! thx! <3 <3 <3 

-

He didn’t know the name of the gently rolling river in front of him but it was a gloriously welcome sight.

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All a stage (Reader x Yondu Udonta)

A/N: I’ve been looking for a way to use this song in any of my fics. It’s suuuuuch a good cover. I am a broken human being, btw. Warning: Spoilers ahead!

★★★★★

Originally posted by scorpling

I don’t want your number (no)
I don’t want to give you mine and (no)
I don’t want to meet you nowhere (no)
Don’t want none of your time and
No, I don’t want no scrub

Yondu Udonta liked to see your performances when he could. It wasn’t often, but every time he did appear, you were glad. It meant he was still alive and still safe. No one knew, but every time you saw that Centurian in the crowd, your performances would be particularly phenomenal that evening.

You liked to joke and tell him that he was your lucky charm and that he should visit more often, but the both of you knew it was just a half-hearted ploy for him to see you more because anytime he was at your side, he was safe. Anytime he was away was another chance for him to be gone forever.

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That buzzing sound in your ear

Okay, so…after a night of thinking and seeing reactions/comments/etc., I’ve gained a bit of perspective on all of this. Also note that this post is more about the fandom behavior and not so much about the issues of representation, because I don’t think I really have a valid opinion in that discussion. 

Also this is the last time I’ll talk about this. I won’t answer asks and I won’t bring it up again because I don’t want this space to become centered on it. 

1. When stuff like this goes down, I should just turn my computer off and play video games for a while because spontaneous reaction is never ever good. I got angry last night and it was dumb and I feel dumb for it. I love this damn show so much and I won’t let something as small as this ruin it for me

2. Do not, under any circumstances, attack Arryn for this. She is a voice actress with no creative input in the series at all. She was looking out for the fans and trying to do a good thing. She’s already timid enough about social media (and rightfully so) don’t scare off someone who openly stated that she was the captain of the ship and supports it whole heartedly. 

3. Stop expecting Rooster Teeth to spoil their most popular show with some kind of statement about the song or the direction they’re going with Blake and Yang. They’re not going to because that would be stupid. If Bumbleby is meant to bee then giving that away in a journal on the RT site would be criminal. Not to mention that we’ve gotten so much more in canon already than just this random song.

4. I understand the caution, but people really need to calm down. It’d be one thing if we saw Sun and Blake kissing or Yang and Blake openly saying “we’re not in love with each other!” in an episode - but we didn’t. This is a song that was put on the soundtrack, that definitely shouldn’t have been, and the bees fans ran with it. I’m not faulting them at all, I was one of them and I jumped right on board the hype train. But even if it’s not directly meant to be about the ship - I highly doubt it was put on the soundtrack with any sort of malice intent.

5. Which leads me to the next point. Stop pretending that Rooster Teeth is rubbing their hands together and laughing like they’re doing this just to spite people. Could they handle some things better? Absolutely, and they’d be the first ones to tell you that - but they’re not mean spirited people. They’re not trying to upset their fans and this notion that they “don’t care” about their fans is ridiculous. 

6. Patience, please just have some patience. Stop living and dying on every small thing that comes across your dashboard. This show has such a long run left in it and to this point romance has been so so small on that spectrum. Volume 5 is not going to suddenly become a big love story. Even if the bees are going to happen it’ll be subtle as hell and probably take a long time. So one song and one response to a song should not suddenly shut you down from wanting to watch the show at all. There’s so much more to RWBY than this.

7. While this does have the potential to be very bad, it isn’t yet - it’s not even close. I’m just asking that you give them a chance to tell their story without constantly looking for a reason to jump down their throats - all that does is make them leery of you. Writers have the right to tell their story and that’s the whole point. We’re here to watch the stories, not dictate them. If they do queerbait (which I personally don’t think they have, I think that can only happen at the very end of a show or if one of the two characters is killed with no resolution), then they will be in the wrong and they will be met with an even larger version of what happened last night. For now though, just let them make the show and quit hunting for reasons to make them the enemy. 

8. Lastly, please don’t stop shipping bumbleby. Don’t stop talking about how much you love them. Don’t stop making arts and fics and long posts about why you love them. This whole thing wouldn’t be a thing at all if the fans hadn’t seen what they saw in these two and turned it into the biggest ship in the fandom that it’s become.

The Kitchens

part vii


Sirius shifted his shoulder slightly to the left, allowing pork to be tonged onto his plate and trying desperately to focus on what his mother was saying.

“You’re checking in with your studies, I presume? Regulus’ professor has informed me he checks in nearly every other day.” If his mother could have a ‘fond’ look, she flashed it at Regulus then.

Sirius stabbed at his plate, nodding for a moment and looking up to Regulus, “Because he has nothing better to do.”

Regulus narrowed his eyes, “And you do?”

Sirius felt a blissful burn ignite in his chest, images of Remus’ nose scrunching, head thrown back as he pressed their bodies together filling his head. Images of him smiling, flour on his cheek and hair slightly curlier from the heat of the oven.

He smirked. Things wasn’t the right word, but he was definitely otherwise occupied.

His mother took a disapproving sip of wine, “Quiet. Regulus,” Sirius almost rolled his eyes. Regulus Regulus Regulus, “have you told your brother of your acquirement?”

Sirius stopped chewing for a moment, eyes flicking to Regulus, watching his face. His brother’s eyes remained fixed on his plate, pushing what little food he had there around. Sirius’ jaw resumed slowly, trying to relax the small knot forming in his stomach, “Acquirement?”

His mother’s smile was dripping with pride, her tongue flicking against her teeth with the need to tell every soul she could about this news, “Oh, yes. Our cousins, the Lestranges. A powerful family, not like us, of course, but they have their uses. They’ve formed a “society,” as they’re calling it. Stupid name.” The queen had pork in her teeth as she rolled her eyes, letting out a laugh, “Regulus, won’t you tell your brother?”

Sirius’ eyes moved to Regulus, wide. He knew what society meant. He knew what doing anything involving the Lestranges meant. His cousins wanted nothing but power for what they considered “pure” bloodlines. Pure nobility, pure beauty. Purity away from poverty, from lower class people they deemed peasants. They were ruthless and cruel and Sirius despised them. He didn’t wonder, then, why that had gone to Regulus instead of him, the future monarch. He didn’t make his hatred secret. Sirius waited for Regulus’ eyes to find his, but they didn’t.

“It’s a political movement.” Regulus said to his lap, “A revolution, if you will. It will keep us in power.” Only then did his eyes raise, “I am to be the representative of the Black household.”

They looked at each other for silently and, for a moment, Sirius thought he saw a younger version of the boy in front of him now, less silent, less…this. For a moment Regulus looked like he had before, when he hated Sirius’ outbreaks, hated when he argued against mother. Hated what he brought down on himself, after.

Don’t, Sirius. Please, don’t.

Then it was gone, and Regulus looked away.

Sirius put his fork down, “A revolution, huh? Is that their kind word for increasing taxes? For starving the villagers?”

“Hold your tongue.” His mother snapped at him.

Sirius grit his teeth, “They’re full of greed and nothing else. Greed for themselves-“

“And they have placed your brother at a top position.” His mother’s lip was curling, her fingertips clawing into the table. Sirius knew what it meant. He knew what he was in for. He couldn’t stop.

“They do know he’ll never be king. They’ll have nothing when I-“

“That,” The queen snarled, “Will be a very long time from now. Unless you are implying otherwise.”

Sirius felt his cheeks flush, anger burning his chest. Of course she would jump to that conclusion, of course she would want to make him seem just like them, twisted, scheming, power-hungry, “I imply nothing.”

And that was it. The last word, as usual, was hers.

Sirius sat quietly at desert, heart aching at the slice of chocolate cake in front of him. He wanted nothing more than to be down in the kitchens with Remus, alone and surrounded by the heat of him, his warmth and the comfort he offered. He couldn’t help but glance at Regulus who sat straight, answering whatever questions his mother asked him in the exact way she wanted him too. Sirius couldn’t do that, he’d never been able to do that. Even when they were young, Sirius had never stayed in his seat, he’d never held his tongue, not like Regulus. Regulus who was slowly being corrupted, fixed under the control of the family, the cruelty. And nothing Sirius could do would stop it, stop him. He’d been completely shut out by his baby brother. Just like by everyone else. Always the outcast.

He couldn’t remember when he’d started getting beaten for it, but he supposed that was why. He wasn’t the perfect son. He wasn’t the perfect king. He just… wasn’t.

He barely touched the cake, and he was glad for this, for after the table had been cleared and he’d been instructed to follow his mother into her study, he emptied the contents of his stomach out in the privacy of his bathroom, the action stinging his newly sliced cheek, and making the quickly forming bruise over his left ribs ache painfully.

He fell asleep on the cool, stone floor, bloodied and aching for the one person who couldn’t come.

~

James looked distressed when he came back to the kitchens, bearing Sirius’ breakfast tray, still ladened with most of the food. Remus looked at it, then looked at James.

James put up a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, “Too much wine, I think. Life of the royals, yeah?”

Remus pulled the tray towards him slowly, nodding. The napkin was still folded and he made a show of picking up the silverware so James wouldn’t notice him slipping the small piece of parchment from between the folds, “Right.” He offered a smile of his own, one that didn’t reach his eyes, “Happen often?”

James’ smile wilted a bit, and he picked up an apple, leaning his back against the table. Remus could only see half of his face, “I’d say so.”

Remus picked up on… something. Something in his voice that he didn’t like. But James didn’t stay long enough for further questioning, instead picking up a rather large basket of shoes and polish. Remus could at least be glad he didn’t have to do that. He looked down at the piece of paper in his palm.

Care to finish what we started?

Lake. Nightfall.

He sighed. It had taken half his courage to write it, the other half to send it upstairs. He felt foolish now, seeing it unread in his open palm. The other night was still with him, as vividly as it had happened hours ago. He’d catch himself thinking of it mid-work, cheeks hot, breathing heavy. It had been incredible, and it was driving him mad. It was unfinished. It was a madness he could deal with, as long as there was the promise of more, of time. Time together. But the time apart… Remus tore the note up slowly, lip between his teeth.

He was monumentally unprepared for the constant need that scraped at his chest.

“Fuck.” He breathed, pushing off the table. Sirius hadn’t gotten the note. He had no other way of contacting or communicating with him in any way unless Sirius initiated it by venturing downstairs. Then again he’d need some excuse—a good excuse—for him being there in the first place. Remus felt suspended on the end of a tether, the binds verging on too tight. Just seeing each other was a battle and he was definitely the one on the losing side. He’d have to wait it out, sit on his hands, hope for Sirius to come to him sooner rather than later.

Remus tossed the scraps and walked to the work Mrs. Potter had left him while she went to the usual Saturday morning markets, restocking on what was in season. He was to start the egg sandwiches for the Queen’s luncheon. Remus contemplated skipping the task. Let the Queen go without her tea sandwiches. See what her nobles thought of her then. Royalty was petty like that, weren’t they? Now that he knew just how much Sirius hated the queen, Remus’ own hatred only seemed to burn hotter. But he sighed, and cracked the first egg into the bowl. It wouldn’t be his head on the chopping block.

He was just turning to fetch the buttermilk when two hands caught his hips, pulling him away from the counter and firmly against a chest.

Remus didn’t even pretend to be startled this time, and just let out a much too loud laugh, feeling a similar one muffled against the skin of his throat. His chest felt like it would collapse with the sudden release of pressure, with the relief.

He’s here.

He placed one hand on the hand covering his opposite hip, the other still whisking the egg, “Well, hi.”

He felt a chin press to his shoulder and the hands on his hips moved to wrap tightly around his waist, as Sirius pressed their bodies closer, “Hi.”

Remus’ whisk slowed as he looked at the murky eggs, remembering, “You okay?” He tried to keep his voice light.

“Hm.” Sirius’ answer was quiet, a liar’s uncommitted sound.

“Yeah?” Remus didn’t want to push, but he couldn’t not ask either.

Sirius pressed his lips to Remus’ jaw, right at the place where it curved to meet his ear, “Better now.”

Remus nodded a little, unable to help tilting his head into the kiss, “Do you want some of this?” When Sirius didn’t answer he pushed on, “’s just you didn’t really eat your breakfast, I thought something might be wrong.”

It was light, but Remus didn’t miss the curse Sirius breathed, “Oh. Right, forgot you’d… y’know, see that. Notice.”

Remus put the fork down, twisting in Sirius’ arms, “Of course I’d notice, you didn’t get my-“

The kitchen was silent for a long moment. Remus didn’t make a move to touch and neither of them pulled away, but there was more air between them now. Misunderstanding, concern, worry. Sirius was just looking at him, eyes silently begging him not to. Not to say anything, not to notice, not to ask him. And Remus almost couldn’t. This was Sirius. This was a boy who had managed to change his life in a matter of weeks, who didn’t deserve…this. Whatever it was, whatever was happening. And then Sirius dropped his gaze, mouth turned down in a way that still said please don’t.

And Remus didn’t.

He pushed a careful hand through Sirius hair, pushing it back from the slightly swelling edge of his right eye and said, “Someday?”

Sirius looked up again and relief was there in his expression. He nodded, “Someday.”

Remus kept his hand there, just stroking gently, and Sirius closed his eyes, leaning into it. He would have stayed there forever.

Still with his eyes closed, Sirius finally spoke, “I believe I was promised a tutorial in this particular task.”

Remus grinned, “That you were.”

Sirius glanced quickly around the kitchen, “Are you expecting anyone?”

Remus was suddenly feeling very grateful for the market, “Not a soul.”

They spent the next half hour between soft quiet and laughter, Remus’ hands almost always over Sirius’ larger ones, teaching, and just wanting to touch. They were cutting the bread when Sirius finally said what Remus wanted to hear.

“What are you doing tonight?”

Remus reached up, plucking a few chives from the herbs hanging from the ceiling, “Positively nothing.”

“Not anymore.” Sirius looked up from the sandwich he was somewhat gingerly holding, meeting Remus’ eyes, “Do… Do you think you could find an excuse to come upstairs again?”

Remus tore the chives in his fingers, letting them fall atop the egg, “Yeah. Apparently your mum is dining out tonight so there won’t be much to do. The parlor again?”

Sirius looked back down to where he was carefully spreading butter on a toast, “Actually,” Remus looked up again at the hesitance in his tone. Sirius stayed as focused as one could be on toast, eyes down, “I was thinking you could come a bit more… well, up.” He took a large, nervous breath, “My chambers,” his eyes flicked up to Remus, “for instance.”

Remus held his breath. This was new, “Your room.”

Sirius nodded, “Right.” He kept his eyes on his knife, “It’s private, no one would come in. I can show you a secret passage to get there.”

Remus’ mouth quirked up, “Secret passage way?”

Sirius grinned, looking at him this time, “Yes, I know. Castle’s full of them.” Then more tentatively, eyes down again, “Will you come?”

Remus felt flushed all the way from his toes, hot all over. His skin prickled, cheeks warmed at the thought of being in Sirius’ room, Sirius’ space. The unidentified space that he’d been sending breakfast up to for months. His chest ached with the sudden want to see it, to see it with Sirius.

“Remus?” Remus looked up fro where he’d been staring at nothing, and felt his face grow hotter. He could feel the slight smile on his face. He saw Sirius’ eyes flick to it and then smile too, “Will you?”

Remus nodded, “‘Course. Of course, I will.”

~

Regulus’ back ached, but he didn’t dare relax.

He heard Bellatrix’s nails on the table, long scratches, before he saw her or her mother.

“Regulus. So glad you could join us.” Only then did they come into view. The same sleek black hair with dark eyes to match. Bellatrix smiled at him, all teeth, no actual smile, while her mother smiled, no teeth, no actual smile, “My sister has raised you well since we last met.”

Regulus stood and bowed to each of them, kissing his aunt’s hand. He did not smile, “It’s been too long.”

The tall stained glass windows of the Lestrange Manor let in very little light. What did make it through the dark green stains was watery and thin, casting shifting shadows on the wall. It made Regulus feel uneasy. He was never sure what was moving, and what wasn’t. There could be someone behind him, or just a trick of the light. Was his aunt’s eyes on him, or to his right, forward. The light left him in the dark. He wanted to go home.

He heard others filter in behind him, other household representatives, other members of the noble bloodlines, and he sat without a word. Bellatrix fell into the seat beside him, nashing her teeth and gripping his hand, then pouting and turning away when he didn’t flinch.

His aunt took the head of the table, remaining standing. Tarea Lestrange was a slight woman, but with eyes that radiated power. She wore black robes that made her look impossibly taller, leaner.

“Welcome.”

Regulus listened intently with lowered eyes.

Power.

Wealth.

Control.

All for themselves. It was all he heard. He felt the energy change in the room as his aunt rallied the houses, his eyes flickered around them room at the approving nods. Contracts were handed out, outlining plans of action, plans for the surrounding villages. Sirius had been correct. Taxes were to be raised, and laughter had not been scarce when Bellatrix mimicked a common-folk, begging for food and drink.

“And what of enforcement?” A man’s voice rang out clearly, rather high. His robes were heavy with the chains around his neck, thick and silver. He had a smile on his face, thin and curling, that told Regulus he already knew the answer to his question.

Regulus thought he knew as well.

Tarea smiled, no teeth, no smile, and, yes, Sirius had been correct,

“Blood.”

Regulus cleared his throat softly before speaking, “Death? For taxes?”

Tarea’s smile didn’t waver, “Correct, nephew.”

Regulus’ hands tightened into fists, nervous. He shoved them under the table, “My house- The Queen will not stand for that. I don’t believe.”

His aunt’s eyes tightened, and she pressed the tips of her thin fingers to the dark wood of the table, leaning her long body forward, “Is that so?”

Regulus sat up straighter, “There are other ways to take care of it, are there not?”

Her pupils were pin points, “Yes.”

“Then no. No, the Queen would never be agreed.”

Tarea’s lips parted, ever so slightly. The smile looked like a possessive grimace, “The Queen wouldn’t? Are you sure? Or… are you talk about your future king?”

Regulus stiffened but willed himself not to look away. He felt the air change again at the mention of his brother. Sirius was notorious for speaking out against the traditional ways of the families. He was a threat, and the fear he brought turned sour and into hatred almost instantly.

“Because,” his aunt continued, “I believe there are other ways of taking care of that, as well.”

The air in Regulus’ lungs seem to still. Beside him Bellatrix let out a gasp, then a laugh. He saw others sit up strighter. They were listening now.

This was new. This was his brother. Regulus swallowed thickly, heart sinking with realization.

This was the reason he had been picked for this position.

“I’m not sure I follow.” His thanked God his voice did not shake.

Tarea’s fingers dragged against the backs of chairs as she made his way to his, coming to stand behind him. Her fingers were tight on his shoulders,

“Regulus. Wouldn’t you like to be king?”

~

Regulus speaks to no one as he arrives home. He sends his guards away, he leaves his dinner to fall cold. He pushes into his room, falls to his knees, and tells himself he’s doing the right thing. His words echo off his skull.

Yes. Yes, I would.

And he starts to formulate a plan.

~

Sirius stared at the tea cart in front of him, ladened with summer fruits, cheese and bread, wine, chocolate. Anything he could think of, he had gotten sent up. When the maid finished setting up, he had opened the door for her to leave, and ordered his guards to follow. They had smirked, glancing at one another. No doubt, images of an affair filled their minds. Sirius closed the door and grinned. They had no idea.

He’d been pacing for the last half hour, eyes never leaving the bookshelf for a moment, waiting for it to open and allow the person who he was almost positive he’d never be able to stop thinking about again to enter. At least it felt that way.

He wasn’t sure what had made him invite Remus up here. It had been a spur of the moment decision, quite possibly the result of certain unfinished business and the uncontrollable need to finish it. For completion, however, privacy was a necessity. He glanced at the bed, then at the food. It wasn’t a purely sexual motive. Since he met Remus, he had to admit that he’d developed quite a need to give Remus things. Slippers, notes, flowers, chocolate. He wanted to watch his face light up over and over, to watch that shy smile whenever he thought he might be getting over excited. He could watch Remus just be happy until the end of time and be content all the while.

He heard a muffled clump from inside the wall and halted, spinning towards the case. He watched as it creaked open slowly, and a very hesitant head poked through. The second Remus caught sight of Sirius, however, all hesitation was replaced by a grin and Remus slipped from the hidden doorway and right into Sirius’ arms, pulling him into a slightly miscalculated kiss, more laughter than lips.

“That was terrifying.” Remus breathed, lips moving against Sirius’ as he spoke, palms splayed on his cheeks, “Full of fucking spiderwebs.”

Sirius’ heart felt like it was tripping over its own beats. This room had never felt so warm before. He grinned back somewhat dazed, eyes trying to look at every bit of Remus’ face at once, “You don’t like spiders?”

Remus just shook his head, finally finding it in him to lean off his toes so they could speak at a normal distance, “Not in the slightest.”

“Well,” Sirius settled his hands comfortably on Remus’ waist, dipping his head downward to nudge their noses together briefly, “I’m glad you made it.”

Remus smiled at him, eyes hooded and soft, then let his eyes drift around the room for the first time, smile dropping and eyes widening a little.

“Jesus.” He let his arms fall, looping loosely around Sirius’ neck instead, “You really are a king.”

Sirius snorted, “Well spotted.”

Remus rolled his eyes but the smile was back, eyes still roaming over the room. Sirius let him slip out of his arms somewhat reluctantly, holding on until it was just their fingertips touching.

“Did you do this?” Remus asked, picking up a fig.

Sirius hummed in acknowledgement, leaning against a bed post and fiddling with the transparent curtain that was bunched at the corner, letting it fall over his palms. He watched Remus silently as he walked around the room in slow circles, taking a bite of the ripe fruit. He touched nearly everything. The walls, the cushions on the fainting couch by the door, the dark, smooth wood of Sirius’ wardrobe. He ran his fingertips over each and ever surface and Sirius found heat pooling in his stomach as he watched them, long and slender and gentle. His skin prickled with the need to feel them against himself.

Finally, Remus stopped, back where he started, taking the curtain out of Sirius’ hands and replacing it with his own. He laced their fingers together, using the leverage to pull them chest to chest, “It’s very nice in here.”

Sirius smiled, “I’m glad you think so.”

“You don’t?” Remus nudged their noses together.

“I think…” The truth was that Sirius had never particularly liked this room. Too many memories, too closed off. It felt impersonal, like it could belong to anyone, not just him. Then again, with how people viewed him, maybe that was the point. He raised one of their locked hands, pressing it to his mouth, “I think I like it more now that you’re in it.”

Remus smiled, then pressed up and kissed him. The pressure was soft for a few moments, just genteel presses of closed lips, before Remus let Sirius part his with his tongue, and press him against the flat edge of the bedpost. Sirius moaned into his mouth, releasing his hands only to have them press firmly to his back, trailing downwards to his arse, holding Remus against him. Remus panted softly as Sirius let his lips trail down to his throat. He tilted his head back, content and helpless against Sirius’ mouth sucking a bruise into his skin, wetting and biting and marking.

“God,” Remus tightened his hands in Sirius’ shirt, “Tell me you can stay. Tell me-”

He didn’t want to admit to himself how belittled the question made him feel. He was never the one who had to leave, probably never would be. He would always, however, be the one who had to be left. He didn’t think about how one day it would be for good.

“I can.” Sirius’ voice is breathless, and he can’t seem to be able to get close enough to Remus, “I can, I can.”

For now.

Remus let his eyes slip closed again and dragged his hands up to Sirius’ hair. He groaned when he felt cool metal touch his fingers, “Jesus, I hate this thing.”

Sirius just kissed him again, lips feeling wet and swollen from their previous work. Remus almost didn’t hear his words through the need ricocheting around his head,

“Take it off.” Sirius laughed gently against Remus’ mouth, “Throw it.”

Remus didn’t hesitate in curling his fingers around the gold and tossing it from Sirius head. He heard it fall, muffled by a thick rug. Out of sight, out of mind.

“There, it’s gone.” Sirius’ hands were back on his hips, smile blinding, backing them up until Remus fell down on the bed, Sirius crawling over top of him, “Just you and me, love.”

Remus sighed, sinking into the weight of Sirius’ hips on his, the extreme softness of the bed against his back, and tried not to let the sadness creep in with the happy. It’s good now, this is a good memory. He won’t be the one to ruin it.

“Just us.” He repeated, not intentionally out loud, softly.

Sirius shuffled until he was supported by his forearms, looking down at Remus. His fingers played with the hair that fanned out over his ears gently. His eyes were soft, and trying desperately not to look concerned, “You okay?”

Remus bit his lip for a moment, regarding Sirius carefully. His hair still held the indent from the heavy crown, the ends curling up and around where the metal use to rest. Remus reached up, running his fingers through it a few times, trying to get rid of it, make the curls wild like they’d been the day he had swam.

“I just don’t want you to leave.” To be honest, he hadn’t really meant to say that out loud either.

Remus watched Sirius’ eyes go wider, then his brows draw together: sad, pained. The bruise on his cheek puffed out more, and Remus was suddenly taken on by the urge to drag him down to the kitchen to make the pain go away. To make any pain go away, really. Sirius seemed to be having similar thoughts as he shifted his weight on one shoulder, pressing his palm to Remus’ face, fingers spanning from his cheek to jaw.

Remus cut him off before he could say anything because, truly, what was there to say? Any reassurance would be at least half a lie, “I just- I mean- What I mean is that I’m glad you can stay.”

For now.

“I don’t think I could go another period like these last few days.” Remus leaned his head up, nipping gently at Sirius’ lower lip, letting his teeth drag softly at the skin, “You very much left me hanging…”

Sirius hesitated for a moment, but then allowed himself to smile. Maybe because he didn’t know what to do otherwise, maybe he wanted Remus as much as Remus wanted him. He met Remus’ mouth just as it pulled off of his, catching his lips in one motion, pressing Remus’ chin upwards to kiss him harder. He pulled his knees up, taking the weight off his shoulders so he could touch touch touch. Remus sank back into the mattress, just wanting to be kissed until his mind shut off, until he could be in this moment only. He didn’t want to worry, he didn’t want to count down the minutes. He wanted to feel. Just what was now.

He pulled at the ties of Sirius’ shirt until they were loose and sliding down one of Sirius’ tanned shoulders. He pressed up and under the fabric, feeling the heat of his skin, the pattern of his ribs, then let his hands slide lower, tugging at his pants. Sirius let out a hiss, pulling back just enough to tug his shirt over his head and to undo his pants. The sight was glorious. Sirius looked like…summer. Remus let all the breath out of his lungs, pulling himself into a sitting position just to be closer, to push his hands against Sirius’ skin, to kiss the collar bones that strained outward. He felt Sirius’ hand wind through the hair at the back of his head, holding him there gently.

“C’mere,” Remus sighed, pushing at Sirius’ chest until he rolled onto his back, letting out a delighted laugh and making Remus smile as he straddled him, “Fuck, you’re gorgeous. You’re gorgeous, come here…” He pressed his lips to the planes of Sirius’ chest, dragging them along the soft dips and valleys of it, memorizing, committing it to memory, trying to.

“‘m here.” Remus glanced up through his lashes at Sirius, seeing that his eyes were closed, brows drawn together in pleasure, “‘m right here…”

Remus squeezed his eyes shut too, nuzzling into Sirius’ neck.

For now.

Now now now.

Remus found the loose band of Sirius’ pants and pulled, pushing back on his heels, letting Sirius lift his hips to remove the fabric. He watched Sirius’ breathing increase, his chest rise and fall.

Remus let out a long breath, letting his forehead fall against Sirius’ hip, breathing in his musky scent, pressing slow kisses to the soft skin there before nuzzling closer to Sirius’ swollen member, “Sirius…”

“Yes.” Sirius breathed, “Yes, yes…” He opened his eyes, grey and blue and pupils blown, and looked down. He reached one arm out, reaching for Remus. Remus shifted his wait, meeting Sirius’ outstretched palm and laced their fingers.

Remus’ chest ached at the soft smile that crossed Sirius’ face as he let his head fall back onto the pillows, breath shaking. Remus wanted to see that smile again, but he wanted to see other things too. Maybe more. He wanted to see Sirius’ eyes squeeze shut, his lips part his fists clench. He wanted Sirius nails to dig into to his palm, as they did now but harder. Remus moved his attention to Sirius’ cock, heavy against his belly. He tentatively wrapped his unoccupied hand around it, heat jolting to his own groin at the soft moan Sirius breathed. He gave an experimental stroke, hooded eyes focusing on the pink tip that slipped in and out of sight. His cock tented tighter in his trousers at the sight, and he shifted against the mattress in a only half conscious effort to gain some friction. He let his hand build a steady, slow pace, feeling Sirius’ hand tighten in his own.

“Re… God..”

Remus’ eyes flashed up at the nickname, lip pulling between his teeth and he tightened his hand, swiping his thumb over the top and gathering the clear liquid there. Sirius groaned at the new slickness of the pull, hips bucking upwards. Remus caught them with his mouth, licking a long stripe up the underside of Sirius’ member. He wasn’t sure what had made him do it, he had only suddenly wanted to taste. He felt the vain against his tongue pulse, and realize with a jolt that it was Sirius’ heart beating in time with the aching cock. Remus closed his eyes, cock wetting just at the thought. He licked again, rutting against the bed in time with his strokes, letting out breathy moans that he could barely hear. Sirius’ smell, the weight of him in his hand, the noises he was making, it was too much. Remus desperately rolled his hips into the quilt, trying to ignore how rough the fabric of his pants was.

“Fuck- Re, wait- wait…”

Remus’ eyes flashed open instantly, mouth freezing but lips staying obscenely parted. He didn’t want to stop.



It seemed to take much more effort than normal for Sirius to sit up, and he was breathing hard, his cheeks flushed. He reached both his arms out, and pulling Remus towards him, “S’okay, s’perfect,” He pressed a long kiss to Remus’ mouth, moaning, “God, you’re perfect, I just wanna- here.” Both boys seemed nearly too tired to move, limbs heavy with arousal, but with not too much difficulty, Sirius helped Remus out of his shirt and pants, kissing him again at the moan Remus let out when his cock bobbed free, “There we go,” Sirius whispered, “Now put your legs like this, straddle my- ah, god, yeah- my thigh. Like that. Jesus,” Sirius leaned forward for another messy kiss, “You’re so hot against me. Feels so good.”

Remus was vaguely aware of Sirius leaning back again, waiting, but he took a moment, mouth open and panting at the feeling of his cock against the silky skin of Sirius’ thigh. It looked a deep purple against Sirius’ tan skin. He gave a few experimental ruts and nearly saw stars. Never had he been in contact with someone like this, never had he been so overwhelmed with something so good. He wanted to be filled with it, he wanted it to surround him. He stretched out his body again, reaching until he got his hand around Sirius’ cock, his mouth over the head, needing. They moaned at the same time, Sirius at the wet heat over him, Remus at the fact that he was now pressed tightly against something, slick with his own pre-come. Remus swirled his tongue and sucked, breathing through his nose. His hand reached what he could not and he felt Sirius take his other again, squeezing tightly. Remus jerked his hips forward with each bob of his head, increasing the tempo as his muscles coiled. He moaned without thinking, around Sirius’ cock, and only felt himself get harder at the way Sirius’ back arched into his lips, the way his jaw clenched through his curses.

“Fuck, fuck, Re, come here. Up here. I need-“ Sirius’ voice was lowered an octave, and Remus found he could only pull of with a lazy, reluctant pop, and look at Sirius with hooded eyes. Every nerve was buzzing, every second felt like it might be the last before he reached the edge. His cock didn’t bob when he pulled himself up onto all fours and crawled up Sirius’ body, but stood straight out, rock-hard, and dripping along Sirius’ stomach. Sirius stared at it, lips swollen and panting, before pushing his hands down onto Remus’ arse and pushing their cocks together, perfectly alined, “I need to feel all of you, fuck-“

Remus didn’t know what noise he made, but the next thing he knew there were tears at the edge of his eyes and he was rutting shamelessly against Sirius, hips thrusting forward in jerky, uneven motions. The slight sting of Sirius’ nails digging into his back only pushed him farther towards the edge, “Sirius-“ He finally formed, eyes squeezed so hard shut that he saw shapes, colors. He pressed his face against Sirius’ sweat-slicked neck, breathing him in, biting, hand clenched over his shoulder for leverage, “God. God, please, please-“

“Yes,” Sirius gasped, “Yes, I’ve got you. Go on.” Sirius held them tightly together, pushing his hips up in time with Remus, “Go on, love, ‘m right behind you-“ Sirius’ voice pitched upward at the end of his sentence and then he was shouting Remus’ name. Remus’ eyes flew open, mouth forming a tight ‘o’ as he felt the slick, white, heat spurt between them. It was the last straw of his own resolve and he followed with a shout muffled against Sirius’ skin. He was gasping into Sirius, unable to still his hips, twitching and rubbing their sensitive cocks together.

They lay there silently for a moment, breathing against each other, feeling the other’s chests rise and fall. Remus blinked slowly, cheek pressed to Sirius’ heated skin, and smiled tiredly, barely a lift of the lips, but a smile nonetheless.

Now. Right now I am happy.

Because he’s here. Sirius is here, and he’s not leaving until hours and hours from now. Until the sun comes up. They have time and time and time and time. Remus lets his eyes fall closed momentarily at the feeling of Sirius’ fingers through the sweaty hair against his forehead, his hand on his bare hip, thumb rubbing circles.

“You called me ‘love.’” Remus says, tongue feeling thick, body feeling thoroughly sated.

He felt the chuckle in Sirius’ chest, pressing his cheek harder to the skin, trying to memorize the feeling. A kiss was dropped to his temple, “I did. Isn’t that what you are?” He felt a shift that signaled Sirius wanted him to sit up, to look at him. He pulled his head up, chest against chest, nose to nose. Sirius pressed a kiss to his cheek, “My lover.” The other cheek, “My love.”

Remus’ heart picked up to the point where he could feel it in his fingertips. He suddenly felt afraid, like his life depended on the answer to the next question he asked, “I… I don’t know. Is that what I am?” Then softer, “Your love.”

Sirius’ eyes were soft, and he tilted his head, lips pressing together in a smile that said of course, of course that’s what you are. The weight was gone from Remus’ chest before he even spoke the words, before Sirius even kissed him again,

“Yes. Yes, that’s what you are.”

Lifeline (2/?)

Jamie & Claire | AU | Claire doesn’t have a husband to return to. Jamie doesn’t have a price on his head. Seems like smooth sailing … right? (AO3)

I’d almost forgotten about this story … sorry !! But since there was no new episode yesterday, I decided to get my shit together and give you chapter two (yes, I know this is a poor substitute for THE reunion episode, but this is all I have!) Also thank you all so much for the lovely comments on chapter one!

Aaand a special shoutout to @bonnie-wee-swordsman who helped me with this chapter, she’s a lifesaver !! (or, at least a ficsaver) (It took some restraint though not to add “cue jaws theme” in the fic based on Bonnie’s comments …)

Also tagging @mibasiamille 😘

I. An Escape

II. The First Misstep

There can be danger in the lack of a purpose. When you no longer have something to give your life meaning, it’s awfully easy to throw caution to the wind and embark on a dangerous—and often foolish—journey.

Some people thrive in danger; they are hardwired to seek it out. For those people, the real danger is being idle, for boredom eats away at their very soul. They need a purpose like they need air to breathe, or food to eat.

Frank had said once he feared I loved my patients more than I loved him. He had said it half-jokingly, but he had been right.

I had always had a drive, though I had not always known towards what. But I kept moving forward, knowing I could never be content standing still. I had the tendency to seek out those dangerous environments other people would rather avoid, but I liked to think I didn’t have the fatal foolishness that some did. If I did, I would quite possibly find out soon.


On our way to Castle Leoch, Jamie regaled me with stories. He had told me about his uncles and Clan MacKenzie, after I’d shown quite a bit of enthusiasm for learning more about the place and its inhabitants. In truth, I had been to the castle once before—or would come there once more?—but at that time, it had been merely a ruin, inhabited by no one.

Foolish or not for putting myself in this situation, here I was, and I did think trying to learn something of the place to which I was headed was a good idea. Information would allow me to prepare, and preparation I definitely needed in order to lie effectively about my origin, for no one could know where I truly came from. Such was life for one with the misfortune of being cursed with a face of glass.

Jamie’s tales provided more than information, though. They were entertainment. He certainly had a gift for storytelling, and I enjoyed listening to him. Though his tales had initially unsettled me a bit, they were further confirmation that I truly was in the past—the eighteenth century—something I had realised when I happened upon Captain Randall, but still naïvely hoped to be a dream.

I hadn’t realised it then, but when Jamie asked me to come with him, I had made a decision to stay—for now, at least—in this time. There was little left for me where I came from, save that perilous boredom.

“I have to ask, Sassenach,” Jamie said, suddenly. “Why is it ye were lost in the forest in the first place? It seems unsafe for a lady such as yourself to travel alone, you could easily be—well, you know what could happen.”

I did. My unfortunate encounter with Captain Randall was not one I’d soon forget. It was only luck that had allowed me to get away unscathed. Luck in the form of a dashing rescuer, Jamie Fraser.

I tried to come up with a good explanation as to why I had wandered astray in the forest, but I had none. How could I tell him how I’d ended up here when I barely understood it myself?

I twirled the golden ring on my finger. I had told him I was widowed, mostly because I suspected the term divorced would be frowned upon, considering the times—even in my time, it wasn’t exactly something women would boast about.

I knew I had to tell Jamie something, even if I didn’t think he would force me to reveal something I didn’t wish to. He seemed to be a kind man, a gentle man, maybe even a loving man. He hadn’t talked extensively about his home, but he had mentioned a sister and of her, he’d talked very fondly. Family, it seemed, he valued greatly.

I took a deep breath.

“It’s a long story,” I began slowly, mentally berating myself for the, at best, clichéd opener; at worst, seeming attempt to stall or avoid answering altogether. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you why, but … I ran away.” That was partly true. With an ever-revealing face like mine, it was always better to stick closer to the truth than to outright lie.

That’s what I thought, at least, until Jamie, genuinely worried, said, “Are ye in danger? Are ye being chased by someone who wishes to do ye harm?”

His worry both warmed my heart and troubled me. Had he cared less, he would’ve asked fewer questions. It was unlikely that he’d be satisfied until he knew I wasn’t in any danger.

“No,” I said, with as much conviction as I could muster, “I promise, no one’s looking for me.”

I couldn’t see his face as we were on horseback, him sitting behind me, but I could imagine the look of concern that refused to leave his face.

“Did you know him?” I asked, eager to change the subject. “Captain Randall, that is.” I had seen how he’d looked at the captain when they fought, something that suggested there was more to his fury than seeing a stranger about to take a woman by force.

“Aye. I ken him.”

I glanced back, startled by the brevity. His gaze was fixed somewhere far off, his posture stiff. Whatever he was looking at, I couldn’t say, but then I thought neither could he. He seemed lost in thought, reliving a memory.

I was undeniably curious and wanted to ask how their paths had crossed before, what Randall had done to make this man hate him so. I didn’t ask, though. Whatever it was, if Jamie’s expression was anything to go by, it was not a pleasant topic of conversation.

While I understood that he might not wish to speak of something that seemed to pain him, I found myself a bit surprised seeing as he’d been so unusually, yet pleasantly, forthcoming with information about himself during our ride.

He had told me a number of things about himself. He had told me that, not too long ago, he had been an outlaw, and only recently had he been pardoned.

He’d said the price on his head had prevented him from returning to Lallybroch, as his ancestral home was called, and that was why he stayed at Leoch. What he hadn’t told me was why he, now a free man, chose to remain there, instead of returning home.


When we arrived at the castle, a woman rushed out to greet—or rather, scold Jamie. She eyed Jamie with disapproval and me with suspicion.

“What do ye mean by disappearing like that, lad? Gone all night! People have been askin’ for ye, not to mention—”

“Mrs Fitz,” said Jamie, as he helped me dismount. “This is—”

“And what do we have here?” asked Mrs Fitz. She surveyed me from top to toe. Her eyes lingered on my once-white dress with particular curiosity and not a little disfavour.

“Claire Beauchamp,” said Jamie. “I brought her here for protection.”

“Is that so?” Her face softened, the initial suspicion towards me subsiding.

“Aye. Would ye make sure she has some proper clothes? I should speak to my uncle.”

“Aye, and then there are other people who’d like to speak to ye as well, as I’m sure ye ken. I wouldna advise ye to wait too long.”

“Wait!” As Jamie was about to walk away, I reached out a hand, putting it gently on his arm, prompting him to stay. “Your wound. Unless you want it to get infected, you should let me clean and dress it properly.”

Having earned Jamie’s trust in my medical abilities after helping him with his shoulder the day before, he agreed without objection.

Mrs Fitz kindly showed us to a room where I could tend to my patient. The room was dark and cold, and the many shelves that adorned the stone walls were crammed with jars that clearly hadn’t been touched in a while; they were covered with dust.

Upon entering, I had turned my questioning gaze to Mrs Fitz, who explained, “’Tis the surgery. It hasena been used in some time, no since Davie Beaton passed.”

The temperature problem was soon remedied by a fire, and Mrs Fitz left us alone.

I hadn’t been prepared for the sight of Jamie’s bare back when he removed his shirt so I could tend to his shoulder. Scars covered the expanse of his back.

“The Redcoats,” Jamie explained. “They flogged me twice in the space of a week. They’d have done it twice the same day, I expect, were they no afraid of killing me. There’s no joy in flogging a dead man.”

“I shouldn’t think anyone would do such a thing for joy.”

“If Randall was not precisely joyous, he was at least very pleased with himself.”

I understood, then. Or, at least I thought I did. His hatred towards Captain Randall, the painful memory he hadn’t wished to speak about. This was it.

Much to my surprise, Jamie did speak of it now though. His earlier reluctance to do so had apparently dissolved. I wondered why. Was it something I’d done to prove myself more trustworthy? Was it that I’d now seen the scars, so I might as well know the story behind them? Perhaps he worried I would misjudge him for his scars if I didn’t know the full story.

He recounted the event whilst I dressed his wound. This was a far less cheerful tale than those he had shared with me on horseback, but his storytelling was vivid as ever.

I met his eyes, trying to show him the same sympathy and understanding he had shown me the day before. Since the moment we met, Jamie had been nothing but kind to me. He had shown more compassion than any man I’d ever met.

I stroked his arm to comfort him, and his lips curved upwards in reply. He looked younger when he smiled; there was something boyish about it. I realised that he must, in fact, be younger. That thought hadn’t occurred to me when he’d acted as my rescuer and protector. While I appreciated his heroic side, what drew me in was the vulnerability he had shown me, sharing his scars.

Hand still lingering on his arm, I leaned in slowly, my eyes not leaving his. I could feel his breath hot against my lips. An inch, and I would touch his lips—

He pulled back.

I didn’t quite know what to feel. Confusion hit me first, followed by shock that was soon replaced by embarrassment.

My eyes sought his, to ask for an explanation, or see if I had misinterpreted the situation, but he turned his head away, hiding his expression.

Mrs Fitz could not have returned at a better time. She helped me escape, as she was to fulfil Jamie’s request that I be given proper attire.

Before our departure she reminded Jamie once more to seek out his uncle Colum.

I followed her to a guest bedroom where she helped me change into a more appropriate dress, and sometime thereafter came a dark-haired man by the name of Murtagh to inform me that The MacKenzie wished to speak to me.

Mrs Fitz gave me an encouraging smile before I departed.

My escort, by contrast, didn’t speak another word to me, let alone smile.

Jamie had told me about Colum MacKenzie, Chief of Clan MacKenzie, but not in great detail. He had had more to say about his other uncle, Dougal, the war chief. Despite our awkward encounter, I found myself wishing Jamie was there by my side as I entered the tower room where the MacKenzie was waiting.


My silent escort was still waiting for me when I exited, but he wasn’t alone. Jamie was with him.

I couldn’t help but smile in relief at the sight.

“What did he say?” Jamie asked at once, excitement in his tone.

“You ask as though you don’t already know! You talked to him about me,” I said, crossing my arms, “you told him I was a healer.”

“Aye, I had to say something so he’d let ye stay, didn’t I? He was verra suspicious at first when I said I’d brought a Sassenach here.”

“I’d say he was still verra suspicious when we spoke,” I said in a poor imitation of his accent. Colum had been suspicious, but he had let me stay nonetheless, thanks to Jamie. He had gifted me the late Davie Beaton’s surgery, in return for my serving as the castle’s new healer, for the duration of my visit.

“He did invite me to the hall tonight, though,” I continued, “there is to be a Welsh singer apparently—”

“JAMIE FRASER!” The voice came from somewhere farther down the stairs. Rapid footsteps that likely belonged to the voice echoed loudly as they neared.

Jamie, having tensed up at the high-pitched shriek, looked over at Murtagh, wordlessly asking for counsel.

Murtagh raised his eyebrows so as to say, “What did I tell you?” making me wonder just what Murtagh had told Jamie and why.

The footsteps reached the top of the stairs and facing us was now a young, round-faced girl with her arms crossed over her chest. Her pale eyes narrowed as they noticed me.

“Jamie Fraser!” she repeated. It was less of a shriek this time, but no less angry. “Where have ye been!?”

Jamie opened his mouth to explain, but the girl cut him off.

“And who is that!?” Her voice was venomous as she jerked her head rudely at me.

“Ah … this is Claire Beauchamp,” he said, “she’s a guest of the MacKenzie and the new healer of the castle.” Evidently explaining me was easier than explaining his whereabouts since yesterday afternoon.

The girl was still waiting for further explanation. Jamie sighed and said, “I was out riding.”

“RIDING!? Ye mean to say ye’ve been out riding all night?”

“Laoghaire, perhaps we can have this conversation in private?”

The girl—Laoghaire—muttered something, then turned and started walking down the stairs, Jamie following her.

“Who was that?” I asked Murtagh after they had left.

“That was his wife.”