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jupiterjunebug · 5 years

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@gaytaako here it is, the literal first time I’ve written Moschicane. I hope I don’t disappoint the Master of the Ship (you).

Ned liked to think that, on any given day, he gave off the impression of being pretty good at crime. Sometimes, he thought he might’ve managed it. He did drive a pretty cool car, after all, and that wasn’t the sort of thing incompetent criminals did.

Unfortunately, being a pretty good criminal kind of implied base level competency at, say, hand-eye coordination. Which, well. He’d kind of fucked up at about the same time he gave the guy walking by the volleyball court a concussion. Or, given his upper body strength and general competence at sports, probably “tapped the guy walking by the volleyball court on the head a little bit.”

Which meant that when the guy collapsed dramatically to the ground, Ned was pretty sure he’d found a man after his own heart.

“Are you alright?” Ned asked, jogging over with a look of maybe-exaggerated worry on his face. If it turned out this guy was actually injured, he’d let it leak over into actual worry. Maybe. Depending on how injured.

“Yeah,” the man said, all smooth and some kind of English. He smiled, grinned, showing off one gold canine and several other slightly crooked teeth. There was pain there. Just the right amount of pain for some poor asshole to pity him. “Just caught me off guard is all.”

Yep, Ned recognized something in that smile. Most definitely a man after his own heart.

“Sorry about that,” Ned said, just as sincerely as Mr. Tall Strong and Charming. “I get a little excited when I play volleyball. They call me Robert ‘Spike’ Blithe for a reason after all.”

The man sat there for a moment, face blank, and Ned took a moment to feel satisfied that he’d thrown this guy’s plan to do…whatever it was he was aiming to do for a loop. Then, the guy’s eyes flashed with the kind of satisfaction Ned knew came from finding someone up to the same kind of no good as him.

“No they don’t,” the guy said, voice low enough for the conversation to be between just the two of them.

“No, they don’t,” Ned agreed. “But I don’t give out my real name until the third date.”

The guy laughed, sharp and the kind of charming Ned had to try hard to be.

“Well, mine’s Boyd,” the guy said, flashing his gold teeth in another smile. “Since you’re saving your real name for the third date, figure I might as well save the last one.”

The laugh Ned gave at that wasn’t even fake. Ned was pretty sure that meant he was losing the battle of wills that may or may not have been occurring.

“Well, Boyd, sorry for any serious injury I may have done to your person.”

“I’m sure you can make it up to me,” Boyd said, grin growing sharper. “Say, who’s your mark here?”

“My mark?” Ned said innocently. He knew Boyd could see through it, he knew Boyd knew that he knew Boyd could see through it.

“Come on, Robert. Bob. Do you mind if I call you Bob?” Boyd didn’t wait before continuing, “Bob, we both know what kind of men we are. And we both know why men like us lurk around places frequented by the rich and famous.”

Ned didn’t actually run into all that many other criminals. He had a feeling that he’d get sick of this sort of back and forth fast but, well. He had a type, and Boyd McWhateverHisLastNameWas checked off every single criteria on that list. So, he figured it wouldn’t hurt to play a little mental chess. Battle of the wills. Flirting. He’d figure out what this was later.

In the meantime, Ned leaned forward, examining the spot where he’d nailed Boyd with the volleyball. Best to keep up the appearances.

“Actually, I’d intended to go to the normal beach. Catch some waves, soak up some waves, you know, that whole thing. But hey, I wasn’t gonna say no to playing on a volleyball team with somebody that’s probably got a couple thousand dollars worth of stuff in their gym bag.”

Specifically that necklace that the player in…whatever the Hell the front left position was had taken upon quitting her job as Ann Hathaway’s PA, and then bragged about it to their friends in a place that all kinds of opportunistic bastards could overhear.

“That’s very reasonable of you. So, which bag are you calling?”

“Red bag, my team, off to the left.”

“Oh, good. I was worried you’d want the absolutely hideous snakeskin purse on the other side. That would be terribly awkward.”

Yes, yes it would. Ned could probably have made it work, but it would’ve been an extra pain in his ass, and he’d had to deal with too many of those in the past week.

“So, if you were to, say, get an opportunity to be close to said purse, you’d be satisfied getting me an opportunity to be close to that red bag I’ve found myself…drawn to?”

Boyd tilted his head in what might have been agreement. Ned held out a hand, and he took it, squeezing just a little too hard. Ned didn’t wince, because he still had a first impression to make. First impressions were important in Ned’s line of work, on account of if all went well the first time he met someone tended to be the last time as well.

Ned sort of hoped he’d have time to make a second or third one as well, in this case.

“Say,” Ned said, loudly enough for the schmucks on his team to hear, “let me make it up to you. How about you join our team, and you can have the satisfaction of absolutely obliterating your foes at volleyball?”

Someone on the other team voiced an objection, half-jokingly. Like he was a good friend, and not a stranger they’d met less than half a year ago. The whole lot of them were just a little tipsy; tipsy enough to forget how well they knew or didn’t know a person, but not drunk enough for them to start questioning the meaning of life and therefore how well they knew or didn’t know a person.

“Well,” Boyd said, a spark of something in his eyes, “obliterating my foes does sound rather good, right now.” He got just a little closer to Ned, and Ned tried to pretend this didn’t affect him. “Unfortunately for you,” Boyd continued, danger threading into his voice, “you’re the only foe I see here.”

He sauntered past Ned toward the other side of the court. His new team cheered.

Ned let out a shaky breath and smiled. Oh, this was going to be a good day.

Ned’s team scored two more points before he decided to enact phase two of his plan. As he hit the ball directly toward Boyd’s head, it occurred to him that they hadn’t actually discussed this plan, and Boyd was jacked enough to absolutely destroy him if he decided not to play along.

Once again, Boyd fell back onto the sand with a lot more drama than was necessary. His teammates crowded around him, one of them jeering in Ned’s direction. Ned smiled sheepishly, hoping he wasn’t about to die. Dying wasn’t on his agenda for the day.

Boyd stood, brushing himself off and snarling at Ned. Ned took a step back, fear only half fake as Boyd grabbed onto the collar of the tacky Hawaiian shirt Ned had thrown on as part of his cover. Boyd leaned in close again, and Ned could smell tic-tacs on his breath.

“Only kind of sorry about this, mate,” Boyd whispered, then pulled back his fist and clocked Ned across the jaw. Ned thought he did a good job of out-dramaing Boyd, flopping down and clutching his face like this was the first time he’d ever been punched. Ned’s team let out a series of hey, not fairs and I’m not gonna play against a guy like thats. Boyd threw up his hands and stalked over to the sidelines, coincidentally next to where his team kept their bags. Ned stumbled over to his own side, rubbing his jaw until the game started up again.

Then he reached over and carefully unzipped the bag, sliding out his prize as the owner of the bag scored a point. Ned slid the necklace into the pocket on the chest of his shirt. Then he looked up at Boyd, just in time for Boyd to shut the purse and look up at Ned. Ned winked. Boyd gave a small mock bow. They both went back to watching the game.

When the festivities were over, Ned wandered away and checked his pocket. The necklace was still there. So was a slip of paper with an unfamiliar phone number. Ned grinned. Maybe he’d end up telling Boyd his real name, after all.

Or, well. He’d tell Boyd his name was Ned Chicane.

#boyd mosche #ned chicane #moschicane #taz amnesty #the adventure zone #Jules Writes

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corrahdarling · 7 years

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Summer - Ch. 7 - Apologies

The rest of the day seemed to creep by for Summer. The thought of running to the University and falling at Tom’s feet to beg for forgiveness, crossed her mind more times than she could count. She knew that was a bad idea, and to be perfectly honest, she didn’t even know if he’d want to see her. She tried to keep her mind off of the situation with Jake, because every time he crossed her mind, she wanted to be sick. The anxiety was eating away at her… what if he told the Dean that he had caught his teacher in bed with a student? Tom would be out of a job… probably ruined for life, and she would be expelled from College at the most important time in her career. It was her dumb luck, that the only person she wanted to run to was miles away, teaching a class on Shakespearean Language… and it would be too risky to run to him anyway. She was mad at herself for getting into this situation. If her jealousy hadn’t gotten the best of her, she wouldn’t have dragged Jake to Azzurro’s, and he would have never found out about their relationship. Good job, Summer.

She figured that keeping her Tuesday night meeting with Tom was a bad idea… plus, barricading herself in her room for the rest of the day sounded better. She had homework to get done for his class, anyway, which took her the better part of her afternoon. It was something that should have only taken her thirty minutes, only her mind kept wandering to the night before. She sighed, closed her eyes, and laid her forehead on the cool wooden desk. She would have been convinced that she had been dreaming when Tom let the ‘l-word’ slip, if he hadn’t reminded her this morning. Love. This brilliant, amazing, handsome man had told her he loved her, but she couldn’t repeat it. There was no way she was ready for that.

Chloe poked her head through the door. “Hey, are you gonna stay in here all day?”

“I thought about it.”

“Come on, Juliet, forget about Romeo for a while. Let’s watch a movie… I just ordered a pizza. Come o-on, I’ve already got Magic Mike loaded in the blu-ray player. We’re gonna stuff our faces and stare at Channing Tatum’s ass.”

Summer laughed as Chloe grabbed her wrist and started pulling. “Okay, okay, I’m coming.”

“Good… Mike and Big Dick Richie aren’t going to wait around forever…”

After the pizza was gone, and the movie was over, the girls sat on the couch, cuddled underneath a fleece blanket.

“Chloe, what am I going to do if I get kicked out of school? I have no back up plan, this is the only thing I want to do.”

Chloe grabbed her friends hand and squeezed. “You are not getting kicked out of school… You know Jake would never tell on you two.”

“I don’t know… I’ve never seen him that angry.”

“Well, Summer… Jake loves you. He has for a while. I’m sure it hurt him to see what he saw this morning. Give him time to cool down, and talk to him. You’ve told him before that you just don’t like him like that, right?”

“Yes… more than once.”

Chloe nodded. “Maybe you can talk to him after class in the morning…”

“That’s a bad idea… not with Tom there. I’ve got to smooth things over with him too, and the last thing I need is for him to see Jake and I talking.” She let out a frustrated groan. “I can’t believe I hurt two men in less than five minutes.”

“You are pretty hot, Summer. That’s what happens.”

“Sure, Chloe. I’ve got to get to bed. Got class bright and early… can’t wait!”

“Ooh, I detect sarcasm in your voice…”

“Ya think? Goodnight…”

“Night! Love you!”

“You too.” Summer smiled and traipsed into her bedroom, collapsing on her bed. She was beyond mentally exhausted, and was ready to get the next day over with. She turned to her stomach and huffed, before turning to her side… and finally her back. Every way she turned, all she could smell was Tom on her rose-colored sheets… almost like tobacco and oak moss… seductive, charming and masculine. Just like him. She tossed and turned for what seemed like hours, just imagining that he was there beside her, only realizing after opening her eyes that he wasn’t. Her eyes closed one last time that night, before drifting into a fitful, nervous sleep.

Four hours later, Summer awoke and immediately there was a pit in her stomach. She knew what that day could possibly hold… losing a friend in Jake… and a lover in Tom. Slowly, she rolled over and looked at her alarm clock.

“Shit!” It was 8:15, and she had class at 9. She could hear rain splattering on her window, which made her morning even better. Being from the South, she wasn’t used to much rain, so all of the precipitation here in Seattle was something that still threw her for a loop. She jumped into the shower, giving herself a quick scrub, before wrapping her towel haphazardly around her. She threw her trusty red stain on her lips and cheeks, and a layer of mascara on her lashes. Her hair went up into a topknot, still smelling of Tom and sex… she didn’t have a choice, there was no time to wash it.

Sliding into a pair of cropped, dark denim pants, and a fitted, light plum t-shirt, she decided to throw on an oatmeal colored, three-quarter sleeve wool cardigan… since it looked chilly outside. She slipped her handy navy Converses on her feet before grabbing her bags and darting out the door. She couldn’t be late, giving Tom one more reason to be mad at her.

Luckily, traffic was moving pretty quickly that morning, so she made it to the University in record time, nearly skidding into a parking spot near the door. She still had five minutes. Clutching her bags tightly, she wiped her feet on the doormat and made her way down the hall. Her stomach was absolutely turning, and as she passed Tom’s office, she noticed his door was closed and the lights were off. He must already be in class. So much for talking to him now…

She ducked into the lecture hall, and as she caught sight of Tom, her breath hitched in her throat. He was dressed a little more casually today in lovely, tight, dark denim trousers, a white dress shirt, and a baby blue lightweight sweater on top. His hair styled haphazardly, but perfectly, and the slight stubble on his face made her mind wander to a place it shouldn’t be… like back to her bed… with him.

Sweet Baby Jesus, take me now.

She cleared her throat, and passed him, ultimately drawing his attention to her.

“Summer.” He greeted her.

“Morning, Dr. Hiddleston.”

“Running late, are we?”

“A little. Sorry…”

She slid into her desk, and took her notebook and textbook out of her bag, as he began to speak.

“Good morning, students. Please pass up your homework from Monday.” Summer’s hand went into her bag, retrieving the paper, and peeked over at Jake from the corner of her eye. She handed her homework to the girl in front of her as she finally looked over at him. She might as well breach the subject now.

“Morning, Jake.”

“Hey, Summer… I was beginning to think you weren’t coming to class.”

“Yeah, I overslept… Didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Have company?” He asked sarcastically.

“No, Jake. I was up all night thinking. I need to apologize to you. I’m very sorry about everything, and the way it all happened. I shouldn’t have used you the way I did, and I’m sorry you walked in on…” Suddenly she remembered where she was. “…my company and me.”

He nodded slowly. “You aren’t going to see him anymore, then? Right?”

“Jake… I…”

“Summer, you can’t see him anymore. You know it’s not right. I know you don’t want to be with me… I understand that now… But you can’t be with him. He’s not right for you.”

She had hoped he would have found some compassion in the last day, and would tell her that he understood that she wanted to be with Tom… and all would be good. Apparently, that hadn’t happened.

“Please… Jake, I really think that is my personal business.”

He shook his head. “Let me tell you something. I care about you, but if you don’t stop seeing him, I will go to the Dean.”

“Summer, would you and Jake like to share your conversation with the rest of the class?”

She gasped, as she felt hot tears began to sting her eyes. “No, Dr. Hiddleston, I’m sorry.”

He gave her a curt nod, as he went on with his lecture.

She turned away from Jake, even though he was still watching her. She couldn’t believe he had given her that ultimatum. She didn’t want to give Tom up, and she didn’t want to give up her career… but, it seemed like Jake was going to make her decide. One or the other... She couldn't have both. She silently wiped a couple of tears from her eyes, as she trained them on Tom. He could see that she was upset, and so could several other people in the class. She wasn’t normally emotional, especially in public, but this was an altogether different emotion. It was like she almost knew that her relationship with Tom was over, and now it was time to mourn.

“Many different scholars have used public records from Shakespeare’s hometown Stratford-upon-Avon, to understand the sexual behavior of Shakespeare and his contemporaries. It was a much different time then, guys. Sexual misconduct was not blatant under the eye of Queen Elizabeth, who was often referred to as the Virgin Queen, and the church or the state did not tolerate adultery, incontinence or pre-marital sex. In other words, if you cheated on your spouse, couldn’t maintain an erection, or had sex before marriage, you’d be punished under the Queen’s rule. In fact, Stratford records give record of prosecution for fornication, and in spite of the danger of punishment, evidence shows that Shakespeare himself engaged in pre-marital sex, as his wife Anne Hathaway was already pregnant at the time of their marriage. It seems as though he escaped prosecution for this and escaped “scot-free.” Shakespeare’s personal sexual experiences are reflected in his writing. In Shakespeare’s “As You Like It,” Rosalind discusses pre-marital sex, and in his Sonnet 151, Shakespeare gives an “extraordinary description of an erection, detailing the rising and the falling of the penis.” The class giggled as Tom returned back to the lectern. “Next time, come prepared for me to lecture for a complete hour about how scandalous Elizabethan theatre was.”

The class mumbled.

“Oh, come now. It won't be that bad.” He grinned. “Now, turn to page 24 in your textbook, answer the four essay questions listed about A Midsummer Night’s Dream, and turn it in. After that you may go for the day.”

Everyone groaned and reached into their bags for paper, and flipped to the page in their textbooks. Maybe if Summer took a while to do this, she would be able to talk to Tom before leaving. The more people that got up, the better she felt. Only, there was one person that didn’t get up even though he was finished… Jake. He was going to sit there until she got up… He was going to watch her like a hawk from here on out.

She huffed as she added her name to the top of her paper, and underneath it, in tiny letters, she wrote the words. “I’m sorry.” She stood and began to walk to the front of the room, and heard Jake’s boots on the wooden floor behind her, matching her step for step. Approaching the lectern, she slipped her paper onto the wooden surface.

“Thank you, Summer.” Tom said as he looked into her eyes. She wished she knew what he was thinking at that moment as he looked at her… she couldn’t tell if his mind was filled with love… or hate… forgiveness… or contempt… and that broke her heart.

Jake cleared his throat and stepped beside her, sliding his paper on top of hers.

“Thank you, Jake.”

Jake didn’t reply, prompting Summer to look up at him, but he just stared at Tom, narrowing his eyes at the Professor. Tom didn’t back down, reciprocating the hateful glare, and Summer saw his jaw clench and release beneath the skin of his beautiful face.

“Let’s go, Summer.” Jake ordered as he finally looked down to her, nodding his head toward the door.

She gave Tom one last pleading look, before turning and exiting the room, feeling Jake so close behind her that she could hear his deep breaths.

“Summer.” He tried to stop her as she sped up and bustled toward her car. His long legs quickly caught up with her as he reached out and wrapped his hand around her arm. “Summer!”

“Let go of me, Jake.” She spoke quietly, not wanting to draw attention to them. Squirming, she tried to wrench herself out of his grip, but it was impossible… he was much too strong.

“You know, I care about you, and I’m just trying to protect you.”

She looked from his hand squeezing her arm to his eyes. “By hurting me?”

“Stay away from him, Summer. That’s the last warning I am going to give you.”

Her mouth dropped open at his words and forcefulness. Jake had never been aggressive toward her until now, and it should have scared her… but, really, it just pissed her off.

“How dare you? We’ve been through so much... you are one of my best friends… and you treat me like this?”

“What’s going on out here?” Tom trotted over to the pair, rage filling his eyes. “Jake, let go of Summer, now.”

“This is none of your business, Dr. Hiddleston.”

Tom stepped closer and whispered. “Summer is my fucking business. If you have a problem, you can take it up with me. Now, let her go home.”

Jake released her arm, but not before giving her a tiny shove. Both men looked at her expectantly as she turned and bustled to her car. Her trusty Toyota couldn’t get her out of there fast enough as she watched Tom and Jake standing there watching her. Was every day going to be like this from now on? She wouldn’t be able to handle it if they were. By the time she arrived back at her apartment, she was in hysterics. Chloe met her at the door and wrapped her arms around her friend. “Come on, sweetie. Let’s sit on the couch. Tell me what happened.”

___________________________ Summer laid on her bed later that day. It had actually turned into a lovely afternoon, so she raised her window, and let the cool breeze flow into her room. She tried to think of a way out of her situation, but every scenario was a dead end. None of them ended with a happy Summer… she either had her career, or the man she wanted. None of the possibilities left her with both. Suddenly, her phone buzzed beside her. Before swiping her finger across the screen, she saw it was a text from a number she didn’t know.

3:46 P.M. Are you okay?

3:47 P.M. Who is this? -S

3:49 P.M. You know who this is, my darling.

3:51 P.M. No, I’m not fine. I miss you. -S

3:53 P.M. I miss you too, darling. I promise that I will let nothing get in our way… or no one. Do you believe that? Will you tough this out with me?

3:55 P.M. Yes. -S

3:57 P.M. That’s what I wanted to hear. I’ll see you soon.

She read back over the texts more times than she could count, and each time it made her feel a little better. Now, they would just have to be extra secretive. Not only keeping their relationship hidden from the world… but an over protective Jake, as well. That might prove to be a challenge… but she was up for it. She loved Tom. She could finally admit it to herself… now, admitting it to him might be a little harder. To learn to love, she would need a really good teacher… … and she knew just the man for the job.

#tom Hiddleston fan fiction #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston #professor tom #doctor hiddleston #professor hiddleston #professor student relationship #summer #teacher student relationship

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