#I can’t imagine someone just shouting ‘I love lawsuit~’ and not just because it’s a crack pairing lol

[captainhysunstuff]

When I was typing a lawlight tag, I saw the autofill option for lawsuit, and I immediately thought, “No, that’s L and Mikami’s ship name.” Because Lawliet and prosecutor, y’know. And now that’s all I can think about.

[baekhvuns]

I just read your “ateez as dad’s” reaction, and it was so adorable that could we see the members of bts as Dad’s?? thank you!!

bangtan reactions ; requested

。。。bangtan as dad's ( this is definitely my favourite type of reactions to do )

── kim seokjin ;

imagine him making his kids sit on his broad ass shoulders while they play with his chocolate brown hair.

his kids getting his worldwide handsome looks from the minute they pop out the womb.

he’s a sag, we know his kids be the best dressed.

omg imagine when his kids grow old, and he’s teaching his daughter how to drive, he’ll be so soft with her, “nooo, take the right—yes yes good job!”

and then when he’s with his son, the asian dad comes out. “aY, WATCH YOUR SPEED— OHMYGOD DID YOU JUST RUN A RED LIGHT?”

“dad, the light was green.”

“YOU JUST RAN A LIGHT, YOU IDIOT!” smacks his kid on the head.

i think when as his kids grow older, the more funny jin gets, random dad jokes being thrown around.

imagine getting ready for a wedding event or some party, and he’s yelling that he’s starting the car when he’s sitting on the bed with his phone scrolling through the army cafe.

── kim namjoon ;

man, i don’t even know (this is too soft)

best dad, wbk (i think it’s a leader thing, all leaders in kpop, would be such amazing dad’s)

buys his kids magical and deep meaning story books that he reads to them every night before bed.

he finally put the baby shoes he bought to a proper use, and then buys every single colour in it because his kid really liked them.

imagine joon, in his tux with glasses (the fit he wore to grammy’s) while he’s holding his son while standing tall and the media gushes over how adorable the pair is. crying

his kid holding one of his fingers while walking down the streets or the red carpet while wobbling on their feets.

“dada?” his kid calls for him while he’s in his office, he pauses and smiles, waving his kid to come over and places them on the table. while he writes songs, his kid plays with either his hair or the jewelry he was wearing.

definitely as his kids grow older he gets a bit stricter, cause he has his moments here and there.

when it’s time for his kids looking for girlfriend’s or boyfriend’s, he’ll have the talk with them and give them advice while walking back and forth like a lecturer.

── min yoongi ;

he’d be the sweetest dad ever, 🥺

calls his kids his angels, imagine his kids get his gummy smile (I WOULD DIE)

imagine yoongs buying his kids small little bucket hats that cover their entire faces and he just takes selfies with them and posts it on the army cafe with the caption, “look at my angels, army.”

i think he’d be a very open minded dad, although he’s on the quieter side many would think he’s really strict and stern kinda like a sergeant.

but in reality he’s a dad who gives his those ticklish kisses when someone puts their face in the kids stomach (ifykwim) and they’d fall into a giggly mess.

whoever hurts his kids, better start running, whether it be teachers or some random kids on the block or heck even the “fans”

no one hurts his family, he’ll work in quietness and place a lawsuit on the people who hurt them.

agustd mixtapes would include a song that would be titled the birthdate of his first born as a present to them and army. as well as have a separate song for his kids titled ‘my one and only’

as his kids grow older and his daughter introduces her boyfriend to him, i think we all know the poor young man would be scared shitless of the agustd.

“if you want to date my daughter, rap better than me.”

yeah, goodluck.

── jung hoseok ;

get ready for a very adventurous dad,

wakes his kid early mornings for random trips down by the bay, all while they whine and he stands there in his dad sandals grinning proudly.

jiwoo would spoil the shit out of hobi’s kids, his kids would be dressed in those pretty aesthetic outfits.

he makes them smol little rainbow bracelets and puts them around their little baby wrists. 🥺

always has his kid propped up on his hip, whenever he dances or shows other trainees and teaches them how to do certain moves, his kids watch him with bright shiny eyes.

the trainees awe at his kids, omg imagine his kids bopping their heads to the beat while clapping their hands like dolphins while hobi dances.

his kids would be dance prodigy’s, i said what i said.

matching outfits with his lil babies !! imagine hope comes home and finds his kid playing with his colourful glasses with his shirt over their heads, softly giggling 🥺

── park jimin ;

ma’am, i will tell you, he would be the strictest dad in bangtan.

i think we all watched that hello counsellor episode where he was angry at the boy who put his dolls before his family.

he’d be a great dad, of course, he loves kids and would do anything for his own. but of course, he’d be on a stricter side.

i see him constantly comparing his pinky finger with his little kids because he finally has someone who’s pinky fingers aren’t bigger than his.

his relaxing time is whenever his kids are close to him, imagine his kids hiding their faces in jimin’s neck because they’d be shy by the amount of people taking their photos and you would just hear the armies go, “AWWWWWW.” honestly same.

he’d bring his kids to bangtan’s concerts! as toddlers he would bring them out during the encore time while holding his hands and making them sing a little bit of bangtan’s songs in their baby voices 😩

as more adults, like around 8-9, he’d bring them to more music shows but send them home early because it’s bed time, but not before kissing them a goodnight.

let’s face it, his kids be the hottest. his kids would be listed as the hottest celebrity kids alongside many other’s and jimin would just boast about it everywhere.

he’s really proud of his kids and won’t hesitate to show it in private moments or even in public moments.

dance classes with dad jimin >>>

── kim taehyung ;

he loves kids, a lot.

he’d do anything for them, the friend dad, his kids would forever be his first priority.

watch his kids get the entirety of his facial genes which would automatically make them prettier / handsomer than 99% percent of the population.

takes his kids to art gallery’s around the world, shows his artistic side to his kids who also enjoy.

painting with his kids would be his favourite time of the day, imagine his kids little fingers doing finger painting and showing it off to tae who would be more than proud and start clapping loudly.

tae’s big hands would cradle his babies faces and squish their cheeks as they fall into fits of giggles, tae’s heart just swells whenever he hears his kids laugh.

bro honestly, tae’s treated like a president, his kids would like the first kids of the country, constant headlines of tae and his kids holding hands would go viral while we all suffer bc we could never 🙃

so, uh, if you mess with his family, consider yourself done, after all he’s the kim taehyung.

as much as he’s proud of his kids, he would be secretive about his private life, as in he wouldn’t want to expose his kids to the world of being a celebrity and being famous beyond.

but imagine, the day he introduces his kids to the world (idk but i’m seeing his son) while wearing a nice tux with black hair, one hand in his pocket while the other over his son’s shoulders.

people would be shocked because his kid is the exact copy of him, but we would be shocked because another kim taehyung is born.

── jeon jungkook ;

welcome to world of wholesomeness, your stay would be making you uwu a lot.

imagine his kids playing with kooks long hair and he lets them hairstyle it however they want. with pretty pink rubber bands

hIS KIDS WILL GET HIS BUNNY TEETH OR WE RIOTING.

his (idk but i’m seeing a son again) son would have his shiny eyes and bunny teeth, overall would be so adorable that kook would have a heart attack whenever his baby would look at him.

imagine you coming home and seeing both your kids sleeping on him, one over his chest while the other his sprawled over his stomach, and you hear the soft snoring of the three of them echoing around the room.

takes candid pictures of his kids whenever they’re having fun in the playground or at road trips, omg imagine him and his kids singing singing to songs while kook drives down the pretty road.

whenever a bangtan song comes on ten radio his kids would start screaming and kook would be smiling all brightly while glancing at them through the mirror while shouting the lyrics himself.

writes songs for his kids, his lullabies would be heavenly.

i also think he’d be a strict dad, after jimin, i think he’ll take on that position.

only when they are slightly older, because kids make mistakes and kook will take it to his responsibility to teach them the right things and to repeat what’s the righteous.

he would be more stricter towards his sons while being more favourable towards his daughters because they got his eyes and he can’t ever say no to them.

no, but he would be great friends with his son, they would play almost any sports together, whether it be online or in person.

really tries his best to be the best dad for his kids and no matter what happens he’ll always be by their side.

[womanofwords]

Writing Prompt #4

You run a support group for people whose lives were ruined due to a chosen one prophecy. One of your newest members is not like the others.

“Hello, ladies and gentlemen, lovely turnout we have here,” the session leader, Rosa, greeted. “I am so glad that word about this support group is spreading. It seems we have three new members. Would any of you like to introduce yourselves?”

One of them stepped up, nervously tucking a coil of curly black hair behind a light brown ear. “Hi. I’m Eugenia Baker. Most of you don’t know me, but I’m sure you know my brother, Edwin Baker. When we were babies, the village wise man checked us over and deemed my brother to be the chosen one. The entire village completely idolized him and forgot about me. They said he’d do great things, but they got it wrong. He was the evil one. He ruined everything.”

“That was the kid that destroyed my family’s business!” someone yelled.

“I’m so sorry,” Eugenia sighed, tears welling up.

“Guys, guys!” Rosa said loudly. “This is just another sad reminder that we are all tragically linked here. Eugenia, don’t think for a second that this is your fault. You are not your brother’s keeper.”

“I know that, but I feel like I should’ve at least tried to stop him, done a better job of telling people about how he was really,” Eugenia sobbed.

“That’s not your fault, either. Nobody ever believes that these chosen ones can do anything wrong,” another one of the new arrivals said. What they could see of his skin was littered with scars, not unlike some of the others. The biggest one that they could see was across his wide, flat nose. He wondered if it had been broken or it just looked like that. “Hi. I’m Paul, by the way.”

“Hi, Paul,” a few of the other members mumbled.

“So, Paul, what brings you here?” Rosa asked.

“I wanted someone to talk to,” he replied.

“About . . . what, exactly?” Eugenia replied.

“It seems every town or city or groups of cities has some chosen one hero, and then this hero does something awful. For me, it’s that they were fighting with some fire-using brothers and they were wrestling and . . .” His lip wobbled and he buried his face in his hands, his body shaking.

“It’s OK. Take your time,” Rosa encouraged. He wiped a tear away from his eye and wiped his hands on his jeans. They left dark trails where he had wiped them clean on the blue denim.

“The hero in my town, Shining Star, threw the Maniac Twins into a house to incapacitate them. That house was my house and . . . my family was in there at the time,” Paul replied.

The air seemed to leave the room. “I’m so sorry,” Rosa softly replied.

“Everyone got out OK, but we’ve been homeless ever since. We wanted the council to pay for a new house, since Shining Star is bankrolled by the government, but it’s been radio silence from them,” Paul replied. “We’re currently in the process of a class action lawsuit against the city.”

“I hope this legal battle goes well for you,” Eugenia replied.

“Thank you,” he said, pushing a lock of brown hair out of his face. The room was decidedly quiet.

“So, would the final newcomer introduce themselves?” Rosa asked tentatively, looking to their final member. They sat there hunched over in a black robe that appeared to pool on the floor, their face shrouded from view by a conveniently large hood.

“OK,” they replied, straightening up. Their body shape appeared to be stringy and lean, but also rather tall. “Hello there. I’m Winston.”

“Hi, Winston,” a few members droned.

“Winston, do you mind removing your hood? In this support group, we like to have a more . . . transparent attitude,” Rosa informed, looking uneasy. He let out a sigh that sounded like a growl, and removed the hood. He looked . . . surprisingly normal. Blue eyes, a button nose, cherubic eyes. There was none of the scarring or horrific disfigurement that the other members were imagining. His face didn’t fit the lanky body he inhabited, or the hood he’d draped over his frame.

“Like I said, I’m Winston. And I was a chosen one,” he said. The uproar and the outrage was almost instantaneous.

“How dare you?! This is a place for people to talk about the trauma that comes with chosen ones! This doesn’t apply to you! Get out!” Eugenia snapped. Her lip wobbled as she shouted at him. She was close to tears.

“I’ll escort him myself,” Paul angrily offered.

“Wait! Let him explain myself!” Rosa protested. The angry cries died down, but there was still some angry glares directed his way.

“When I was first told that I was the chosen one, I thought everything was going to be great, you know? Destined for greatness and all that stuff.”

“Are you done bragging?” someone growled.

“But then I had to be taken away for training by my mentor, leaving behind everything I’d ever known. I figured it was all OK, and just a necessary sacrifice with regards to saving the world.” He looked around at the angry members.

“Get to the point,” Eugenia replied.

“My mentor would reward me heavily if I did things right, but if I got it wrong . . . I would be punished,” Winston replied. “Beatings, withholding food and sleep, poked with the poker from the fire. He was ruthless. I couldn’t tell anybody about what he was really like because everybody thought it was so cool that I was going to basically save the world. I didn’t have the heart to tell them the truth.” Winston sighed and put his head in his hands.

“Is there a message behind this?” Paul asked, his voice quieter than before.

“The point is I agree with you. Why do kids have to solve adult problems? Where are the actual adults? What do you do with the ones that turn evil? How do you rehabilitate former chosen ones after the giant battle of their lives? I had to give up schooling to be a chosen one, and as an adult, I have no qualifications for a normal job and can barely read. Also, who the hell looks at a baby and decides that this baby will end or save the world?” Winston’s face was red with the anger held in him for an entire childhood. “I can’t even go to a therapy session about it because I get told to leave.” Winston deflated. “Well, you got what you wanted. I’m gone. I won’t be back, I promise.” He got up to leave, and was all the way out the door when Rosa decided to say something.

“Winston, we are so sorry for having judged you,” Rosa replied. “We clearly need to modify the description of this support group. Let me just say that you are definitely welcome here.”

“Are there any more . . . former chosen ones?” Eugenia asked.

“Not as far as I know. It’s just me with a story like this,” Winston pointed out.

“There’s probably more; it’s just that they are too scared to say or they are dead,” another member said.

“Now, as the person organizing this support group, I want you to sit down immediately. You still haven’t met everybody yet,” Rosa jokingly ordered. Winston, sat down, and the meeting continued.

Thank you for reading this far. If you liked it, leave a note or some positive feedback or even write your own story with the same writing prompt! Again, thank you!

[dommexbritt]

FONDUE FOR TWO W/ SUE SYLVESTER // Fri. Feb 26th release

Hello, and welcome to the first ever and extra special edition of Fondue for Two on the Fondue Pot Podcast. A show where I, your host, Brittany S Pierce will ask the burning cheese melting questions so that you don’t have to. Today we have a line up of parents to shed a little light on their feelings on campus, school policy, and their terrible children... 

Now, first we have a well known alumni, renowned cheerleading coach, and all around bad guy... according to a whole slew of lawsuits but don't expect her lawyers to say so. 

Hello, welcome, I hope your time here this week has been as exciting as it used to be back in your day. Just as a background on you and to start, can you please introduce yourself to our listeners?. Let us know how many children you have attending the school and because you're an alumni, anything about today's campus that looks a little different now than how it used to....

Sue: It's good to be here, Miss Pierce, and thank you for the warm welcome.  First off, before I introduce myself, let me just say that none of those allegations were ever proven in a court of law. 

To the point, though, if your listeners don't know me then they should.  Sue Sylvester, cheerleading icon, one of the most successful coaches in the history of our sport.  I have two children attending this school, although whether I acknowledge them as such depends on their grades.

As for this campus...well, Brittany, frankly it's hideous.  This used to be a place for the elite.  The best of the best.  Scholarships?  What is this, Communist Venezuela?  I'd be willing to accept the kids who can pay for themselves, because why not let them spend their money, that's the American way.  But a scholarship?  Embarrassing.  Those kids drag this entire campus down.

B: You heard that Devereux? Sue Sylvester herself, coming at you. 

I know your daughters. 

SHOUT OUT TO TEDDY SYLVESTER ON THE TINY ECHO MIC~~   

As far as the rest of the campus and scholarships, that seems like a totally weird thing to be bothered by but I know a lot of people in your generation have a lot of anger issues from the prohibition days. I'll try not to ask too many rage inducing questions, to be accommodating. 

But while we are on the topic of progressive and dynamic school changes... In regards to the retesting that has been and continues to be issued, do you have a stance on the new tests validity? This has been a hot topic on campus for months since the holidays last year, and I'd love to get some parent perspective on it.

S: Prohibition?  How old do you think I am, exactly, Brittany?  That was repealed in 1933, and I certainly wasn't around to see it.  Tragic day anyway, this country would have been far better off it weren't filled with alcoholic louts. 

See, a person might think I'd be against something like that - after all, your mark is your mark and it's as simple as that.  But I am in favor of tests.  If someone really doesn't have what it takes to be a Dominant?  Tell them so.  Make them a submissive, slap some cuffs on them, and go on with your life.  And those people who show that they're more than just a submissive?  Good for them!  Upward mobility, Brittany, that's what this country was built on.

B: 1933. Yeah I totally know. This campus must have been, like, an entirely different walk of life back then. 

That is really understanding of you. I bet a lot of the students who are listening that might of retested feel pretty reassured that you think so. 

Follow up question, if you were still a student and faced with a retest yourself do you suspect it would impact your current role?

S: I...was not here in 1933, Brittany.  I wasn't even born. 

As they should be.  They should understand, like everyone else in this great country, that testing is the backbone of education.  If you test well, it means that you're a good student, and simple as that. 

Absolutely not.  I was born a Dominant, I will die a Dominant, and there is no test on Earth I could take that would ever say otherwise.  Sue Sylvester does not fail.

B: Uh-huh.  All of that is a totally interesting theory. 

It's pretty cool to be secure in your role. Would you like to share a fist bump with me on it?

S: A theory?  Brittany, unlike the president I can show you my birth certificate.

 Yes, of course - much more hygienic than a handshake, I believe.

[ * muffled fist bump sounds ] 

B:  Moving on... 

 Any feelings on the class list not including French courses or modeled under typical French curriculum here at Devereux Academy?

S: It's the best decision they could have made.  What was a student in Florida going to need French for?  I'm sure if they wanted to say "I surrender," or ask for cheese and a baguette, they can do that just as easily in a proper language.  And what did their curriculum ever teach them?  How to cut the heads off of women who were only enjoying a delicious piece of cake?

B: OH! Thank you for saying CHEESE.

 [ * buzzer sound ]  

That is the HOT WORD today and lined up perfectly with the fondue pot being just warm enough. Please help yourself. It's my own cheddar gouda blend and there are plenty of dipper items to dip. I recommend the marshmallows... 

The HOT WORD [ * buzzer sound ] brings the focus in on you personally and I have one very burning question for you that I'm sure a ton of our listers who know anything there is to know about you are on the edge of their seats wondering. 

 Is it true that you are legally married to yourself?

S: I haven't had a proper fondue since the seventies.  And now that I think about it, Dick Cheney never did pay for the vegetables.  

[ muffled chewing sounds ]

 [ loud swallow ] 

That is completely true, in fact.  I have some lovely pictures from the ceremony here, if you'd like to look them over.  Isn't that tracksuit stunning?  I mean, it's more me that's stunning than the tracksuit, but still.

B: Wow..it.. it actually is super good looking. Did you save it for any of your daughters to wear at their wedding?

S: Thank you - I'm glad that you can appreciate how tasteful it was.  I did save it, but not for them - it's in a glass case on a mannequin of my exact proportions in my office at home.

B: Oh, right of course. 

I'd like to also ask, since you're solo-married, would you ever consider entering into a long term claim with yourself as well?

S: Oh god no.  I would never wear a collar for anyone, not even myself.  I can't even stomach the thought of it.

B: Thank you for answering those. That was the HOT WORD [ * buzzer sound ] and a dip into Sue Sylvester. 

Now, we're nearing the end of our time here, there are just a few more things I feel we should cover while I have you here. 

As a Legacy I'm sure you're super aware of the type of pressures that can bring but, do you have an idea or a guess of what it might be like for a child of a well known individual like yourself to be wading through gossip and the literal meaning of the word legacy in your wake?

S: Of course - it's been a true pleasure knowing there are talented journalists like yourself on campus, Brittany. 

I have no doubt that it's the most difficult thing in the world to follow someone like me.  Knowing that everyone who looks at them is constantly comparing them to me, wondering when they'll follow in my footsteps and become more like me, I cannot imagine that sort of pressure.  But I trained them, molded them, just like any legacy parent should do, and I believe they're capable.

B: Thank you Sue, I super appreciate you saying that. I'm going to save it as a sound bite to play later. 

You heard it here folks, one Sue Sylvester believes her daughters to be trained an capable. It totally sounds like you're super proud, that's amazing. Speaking of when you were attending though, there is one more personal item my assistant has pointed out to me that I have yet to touch on and I think everyone would like to hear your side... 

I heard that when you were here at Devereux the then Intro to Dominance teacher reportedly had a public breakdown and resigned. Through the help of school records I have tracked down and reached out to said retired teacher and although they sounded ancient like the skeleton from tales from the crypt. They had this to say about it, and I quote:

"I never thought that the devil walked on Earth, and then I met Sue Sylvester.  How Devereux managed to survive her long enough to let her graduate, I'll never know.  That woman tried to kill me on at least three occasions, and whether anyone could prove it or not I know the truth.  She said on day one that I sounded like a Hippo wheezing in a desert, and from then on she had it in for me." 

 Do you have a comment?

S: Oh, them being capable doesn't mean that they'll actually put in the effort. Only that I gave them every tool possible to help them on their way.  What they do with that is up to them. 

 [ sound of Sue, laughing uproariously ] 

I can't believe that old bat hasn't keeled over in her study, surrounded by her little ceramic figurines and being gnawed on by the eighty seven cats I'm sure she owns.  I do have a comment, actually.  Now that the statute of limitations has expired, I'll say that I actually tried to kill her on at least seven different occasions, and she must have missed the other four.  And with the benefit of hindsight, she sounded less like a hippo wheezing than like the musty specter of death in a Vincent Price movie.

B: Seven.  Well. I don't know if legally I should air that but I bet your lawyers will be on it if there is any trouble. 

I also want to take a moment and add a disclaimer here, this podcast or any part of Devereux administration does not condone the use of violence or bullying against their employees. 

Well, that has been a ride. And I'd really like to thank you for taking the time to talk with me and give us your sizzling take on current goings on of our school. 

Before we go, and last of all... off the top you your head, what’s the hottest dish you have to serve up for us? Any context.

S: I, on the other hand, absolutely condone the use of violence.  How else do people learn? 

It's been a genuine pleasure, Brittany, and thank you for doing the good lord's work and getting the news out to your fellow students. 

The hottest dish I've got for you...oh, I've got just the thing.  I bet no one who goes here has ever figured this out, so consider this a Sue Sylvester exclusive.  If you find just the right brick to press on in the library, you can open a secret door.  Inside is a private gym and training facility that I dubbed "the room of pain."  The first one to find it will find a one hundred dollar gift card for Bullwinkle's Restaurant hidden somewhere inside.

B: WOAH. Completely unexpected dish!! You heard it here first people, a treasure hunt on our very own campus is now afoot. 

That was Sue Sylvester, this is Fondue For Two, and I am Brittany S Pierce. 

Signing off.

[ice-cream-nekogirl]

lights will guide you home (Tokoyami Fumikage X Reader) PART 3

PART 3 to: https://ice-cream-kitsunegirl.tumblr.com/post/189819603459/lights-will-guide-you-home-tokoyami-fumikage-x

FOLLOWS AFTER: https://ice-cream-kitsunegirl.tumblr.com/post/612187050604675072/if-i-cant-love-her-tokoyami-fumikage-x-reader

Taglist: @shimy-deko​, @teerama​

Summary: After fumbling about in the dark, the light finally guided you home, but will everything be back the way it used to before you lost your memory?

All of my memories keep you near. In silent moments imagine you here. All of my memories keep you near. Your silent whispers, silent tears.

-‘Memories’ Within Temptation

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GM6PYawZ8nk

2 DAYS AGO...

“Tokoyami...”

You found yourself saying his name which just pissed off the man when he cracked open an eye, “Already thinking about your boyfriend that you left?! OH NO GIRLY! I’ll kill you!! I’ll kill your stupid boyfriend if you can’t fucking choose! It’s either him… or me!” He screamed as you finally had enough sense to realize how unstable this person was.

“No!” You shouted and used your light against him to blind him once more and you swiped the gun out of his hands as he lost control of the wheel and you couldn’t stop yourself from screaming when you heard the car screeching and swerving into another row of trees…

CRASH!!

2 DAYS LATER…

Aizawa let out a heavy sigh after finishing speaking with the Bakugou family along with All-Might at his side. They had spoken to just about every one of the 1-A student’s families in spite of the fact that one student was still missing.

Naturally the parents were very skeptical, and some were a tad bit unfriendly given the fact that while Bakugou was rescued and brought back home. One was still missing, and no one has found them yet. It gave them little reason to trust the UA staff so talking to the parents was more difficult than they thought.

“I’m highly certain that (L/N) is out there. She was last seen at the training camp wasn’t she?” All-Might tried to express some hope that you were still alive and still out there because the pro-heroes were looking around vigorously for you after your parents became extremely frantic when they found out that you were missing.

Aizawa didn’t dare tell them the exact details though about how it was another one of his students that was partially responsible for your disappearance. For he feared that would be the least logical thing to tell an extremely worried family who in their desperation and emotional states would lash out and blame the student, the school, and probably file some kind of lawsuit or something.

“She was. But Midoriya and Shouji said that she was using her quirk to fly, until Tokoyami’s quirk knocked her out of the sky. They searched the entire forest and didn’t find a body, but they did find blood.” Aizawa was more cynical about this situation, but clung to the hope that you were out there, but where were you exactly?

“Was it hers?”

“(L/N)’s blood type is (B/T). The blood they found was (B/T).” He replied neutrally, but was secretly relieved to know that the blood was yours as it meant that you were definitely in the forest, at least until they lost the trail of blood as the last droplet was found on a road.

“If these findings indicate anything, I’m going to assume that after she was attacked by Dark Shadow, she walked through that forest, found the road into town, and hitched a ride.” Was Aizawa’s best hypothesis as he thought about it based on everything that some of the pro-heroes found. However, there was something else that alarmed him. Which was news of a car crash that occurred the next morning after all the 1-A students were sent home or to the hospital.

Only the body of the driver was found, and while his car was totaled the driver survived, but the pro-heroes claimed that someone else’s blood was found in the wreck. (B/T) blood. 

“Do you think…?” All-Might had heard about this news, and he started to come up with his own theories based on how everything was slowly starting to piece together. Aizawa gave a slow nod, but at the same time he still worried, even though he wouldn’t say it. He hoped that he would see you soon, just so he could know that you were still alive, and that he could still do something to help you recover after a traumatic experience.

You were his student dammit…

BANG!

All-Might let out of a startled shout and for once Aizawa jumped ever so slightly at the sudden, loud impacting noise coming from the window as he swiftly turned to see no one other than you. Face dirtied and covered in blood, grime and your (H/C) hair a complete mess with your (E/C) eyes widened and frenzied as you had your bloody hands clasped against the glass as you heavily panted from exhaustion, desperation and terror.

“(L/N)?!” Your teacher reacted quickly when you sank to your knees and he got of the limousine fast so he could check on you. You looked horrible, cuts and scratches lacerated around your body with dried up blood across some of your more infected wounds as you trembled in your teacher’s arms when he picked you up.

“We need to get her to a hospital right now.” Aizawa didn’t hesitate as he carried you into the car and told the drive to step on it. Finally... 

You prayed to whatever deities were up there that this wasn’t a hallucination. It was Aizawa right? Not just a figment of your imagination? Please you prayed that this was truly them after walking and running for so long... 

“Young (L/N)… what kind of journey have you been through…?” All-Might asked you as you were fading in and out of consciousness and couldn’t even answer without shuddering. “No don’t speak… you’ve been through enough…” However, the former Symbol of Peace gently hushed you so you didn’t strain yourself after everything you’ve been through…

“A… Al… All M-Mmmight…?”

Blinking your tired eyes slowly, you recognized this man, he looked like some kind of, emaciated version of All-Might. No… this was All-Might, but why did he look like that? You weren’t exactly around to watch the battle between him and All For One.

“Yes… yes it’s me… please, don’t strain yourself.” He replied to you gently once it became clear that you had recognized him despite not seeing or hearing of the most recent news.

“(L/N). You need to rest, your wounds look pretty bad, so we’re taking you to the hospital. You won’t need to speak until you’re well enough to.” That was the first time you heard Aizawa speak so gently to you, and you could tell he was genuinely worried.

It was Aizawa... it was All-Might... you weren’t imagining anything...

You just wished you could tell him everything right now, especially now that you remembered everything after losing your memory even just for a little bit. Still, you heeded their wishes as you found yourself slowly closing your eyes all the while the two adults told you that everything would be okay.

Yet in the back of your head you could still see your classmates as their faces lingered in your restored memory like Izuku, Shouji...

Tokoyami...

AT THE HOSPITAL…

Post-traumatic amnesia is what they call it apparently as you were put in the hospital and had your infected wounds treated by the nurses and Recovery Girl as soon as she found out that the other lost student from UA was found, injured.

Apparently, it’s a temporary state of confusion or memory less that usually almost always happened after a traumatic brain injury, which is why you couldn’t remember what happened after you were attacked.

By Dark Shadow…

Being with that… that guy from the car, somehow triggered your memory when he made you increasingly nervous and made you use your quirk. Just activating the quirk you didn’t know you had in the moment made you remember everything, and how you even got there.

How you got attacked by your classmate completely by accident, on the run from a villain no less, when you crashed into a tree that’s when it all went black. Then when you came to is when you had no idea where you were at, at least until you found yourself in a car with some psychopath…

“Can you tell us what happened?” And once you were well enough police were already questioning you, but there was no way you were going to say that your classmate indirectly caused all of this. Not when those villains were the cause of it all…

“I was… my friends and I… we were running from a villain… the villain with the swords for teeth…” 

So you explained the situation, albeit you had to lie and say that Moonfish is the one who was responsible for your wounds. And they believed you because Moonfish was arrested and already infamous for his penchant for violence. They had no doubts that he’s the one who sliced up your back and gave you ugly wounds that had gotten infected and the nurses thankfully healed it up with their quirks.

After that you explained how you had forgotten everything and everybody until then, wandered around aimlessly from one bad situation into another with some lunatic in a car you thought would take you to safety, but no, he nearly killed you and you barely escaped with your life. And then after you got away from him you just kept walking and walking until you made your way back to the city and by some miracle, you found Aizawa after he was speaking to the Bakugou family.

Your feet and legs were sore as hell, bleeding like some of the other parts of your body, but they were finally patched up. The infections hurt like hell, but some of these doctors had quirks to make the pain go away little by little. Although you weren’t going to forget everything that happened to you in those three horrible days. There’s no way you could forget that now that your mind was cleared and everything was brought back to light.

And then you remembered something else, your classmates and Tokoyami…

Oh my God, what happened to him? After Dark Shadow attacked you just remember waking up in some deep part of that forest and asked that Deadpool guy where you was and then everything else…

You hoped he was okay. You remembered how much he was struggling to hold Dark Shadow down from destroying everything and everybody. The anguish in his crimson eyes...

You really hoped he didn’t beat himself up after all of that…

“(L/N)?!!”

But then you gasped as soon as you heard your name being called as you perked up when all of a sudden, there were your classmates all standing there and staring at you in shock and awe. It’s already been a hectic three days and although they had Bakugo back, they still missed you terribly.

Izuku, Uraraka and Tsuyu in particular teared up when they saw you okay and the two girls quickly rushed over to gently hug you. Relieved that you were alive and well, as many of your other classmates like Iida, Yaoyorozu and Kirishima couldn’t hide their tears of joy when seeing that you were okay and back.

Still… even though you were hurting, you picked yourself up so you could hug each and every one of them out of relief and happiness to be back, to remember all of their faces again. After you finished hugging Tsuyu, you gasped upon seeing Shouji. You rushed over and hugged him as he didn’t deter you and warmly hugged you with his six arms as he didn’t dare shed any tears. You were scared, and he knew it. After what happened, he knew that you must have still been a little fragile after such a long journey all by yourself. He had to be strong for you.

“S-Shouji…” You clung to him, but then you remembered… Tokoyami. Where was he? “S-Shouji where’s…?” The taller male paused even as he felt you look up at him and he knew exactly who you were talking about. But Tokoyami’s been silent for the past three days, distant more so than normal. He didn’t want to talk to anyone, he didn’t want to interact with anyone or be around anyone. Shouji knew it had to have been because he was still riddled with the remorse of harming a classmate and believing that he got you killed.

“Tokoyami… is he okay?” You asked when Shouji didn’t give you an answer, and all he could do was nod. “He’s okay…” He answered you briefly and didn’t say anything else because… that wasn’t his place. You and Tokoyami would have to do that part together and talk.

And you gave a huge sigh of relief when you heard that he was okay, but you weren’t aware of the emotional turmoil that Tokoyami was currently suffering as he stood outside the room, eyes wide as he had his hands clutching at his feathers. So many emotions flooded into his head all at once the second he found out that you were still alive. Relief, joy, shock, and also even more remorse, regret and hate towards himself because now he got to see all of the damage that HE caused, now he could only ask himself, what the hell was he doing here? Why did he even come? He was SO relieved that you were still alive but what if you hated him? What if you never wanted to see him again after he nearly killed you? You probably did hate him and he didn’t blame you…

He hated himself too...

He could hear you telling your story to everyone, how you just blacked out and ran into some psycho while you had no fucking idea who you even were because you lost your memory for a little bit. Everyone was shaken up, horrified at what you had to go through and how you were unfortunate to move from one bad situation to another with that guy in the car, and they were so happy that you were here, alive and mostly unscathed.

No, he couldn’t bear to see you again, he couldn’t bear to talk to you again. He ruined everything, he ruined the friendship you and he had, he nearly killed you. How would he come back from that? He wouldn’t…

He needed to get out of here, and he just hoped to the gods that you didn’t notice that he was here, he didn’t want you to see him, he couldn’t bear the thought of it. The raven found himself slowly walking away from the room you and his classmates were in and pretended to be oblivious to his surroundings and he ignored the voice in his head telling him to go back. He especially ignored Dark Shadow pleading with him to go back and see you. No, he stopped listening to him and ignored every word he said. He wasn’t going to go back to you.

He couldn’t...

There’s no way you could hold any affection left for him after everything he put you through. No way…

“Tokoyami.”

But then he froze once he heard your voice directed at him, and resisted all temptation to turn around and see your face and yet his weak human heart forced him to slowly turn and that was the biggest mistake of his life as he saw you slowly step out of the room. You looked awful, your (H/C) hair a mess, gauze and bandages wrapped around your head, arms, legs and dried blood stains under your lips. HE did that, he’s the cause of all that. He’s the reason you blacked out, he’s the reason you crashed with that lunatic, he’s the reason you were hurt…

Tokoyami couldn’t bear it, he couldn’t fucking bear it, he turned away and walked away. “Hey… c’mon…” To be honest, it was a little hard for you to look at him again but you still wanted to at least see if he was okay after that whole ordeal, but he was walking away.

“Tokoyami…” Reaching your arm out weakly for him, you hoped he would come back but Tokoyami kept his gaze averted and sped up his pace to quickly get away from you. “No…” Shaking your head you took another step forward but then a nurse came over and stopped you from trying to leave.

“Please return to your bed you’re still hutr…!” She exclaimed in worry as the rest of your classmates also urged you to go back to your bed once they saw that you were still groggy. God you were so tired, but you wanted to see Tokoyami. Despite everything that happened, you just wanted to see him again…

PRESENT TIME…

The days passed by fast as you almost didn’t even realize that it had been a week since you and your friends were attacked by villains at the Summer camp and that one of your classmates got taken for 2 days while you had been lost at the same time for those days as well but you still remembered everything that happened. Even the memories you lost, you remembered all of them. Everything that happened within the span of a single week.

How does time move by so fast?

You had no idea, but you were only somewhat relieved to know that the worst was over and you were out of the hospital as they had let you out three days ago. Your body still wasn’t at 100 percent but you were happy to be out of there and in a new place. That’s right…

It took a while to get used to this new change since dorms weren’t really something you expected in your school life but to your surprise, it started to feel like home as you got slowly used to it. And it felt so nice to be in this large building, looking outside the window to see the night looking so serene and lovely with the moonlight there to light up your darkness. That was how you found your way back home, even when you were limping you relied primarily on your quirk, and every light that you saw. The sun, the lamps in the streets, the city lights that brightened up the night’s sky.

Light was your clarity.

Light was what protected you from the darkness even when you felt that there would no longer be any light. Yet at the same time, even though you no longer felt comfortable in the dark, there was still something elegant about it. The night was so peaceful, the darkness provided a sense of rest for everyone, including yourself as you just wanted to go to sleep but you couldn’t sleep.

That’s why you were awake, because you were thinking too much about everything that had happened, thinking too much about him…

Tokoyami. Your dear friend that had been avoiding you for over a week, and you knew it was because he still couldn’t bring himself to face you after Dark Shadow attacked you and left a nasty scar on your back once your wounds had recovered. Of course, you wanted to try and talk to him or at the very least say ‘hi’ but he just turned away and left every single time you tried. And instead of just forcing him to speak you let him be…

After all you can’t just make someone talk to you, even though you really wanted to. Even though you really wanted to let him know that he doesn’t have to avoid you despite everything that happened. Even though you… really also wanted to let him know that for the past couple of days he’s all you’ve been able to think about and even before all of this, you still thought about him because you liked him…

Even after all of this, you still liked him, you loved him…

Oh well, he clearly wasn’t interested in talking to you so you just sighed and decided to go back to your room and attempt to sleep. You knew that he was just feeling guilty but still.

“I just wanna go back to my room and watch AHS all night…” You muttered lowly to yourself as you got up from where you were kneeling to go back to the room you were given.

But then you stopped as soon as you heard footsteps and you were worried that it was probably Iida, so you knelt down and hid behind the side of the couch. You couldn’t see who it was now but based on the fact that you could hear nothing but footsteps and a lack of voice, you assumed that you weren’t seen or noticed. Suddenly, light brightened up the once dim room and you resisted the urge to gasp. The refrigerator was open, that’s all you could assume but now you had to stay still so they didn’t see you.

Finally, you heard a heavy sigh. There wasn’t much to make out but the voice sounded deep, definitely one of the guys, which made sense there was like 14 freaking boys in this damn class. Sausage Fest in your opinion…

However, you didn’t want to bother anyone and weren’t in the mood to talk to anyone so you decided to just sneak away quickly before they spot you. You almost assumed it could be Shouji, but if it was, he probably would have called you out already so you started to crawl away from the spot, still hidden with the couch covering you as you still heard nothing. Curiosity ended up getting the best of you though, and you put your hands on the couch to carefully pick yourself up to try and sneak a peek of who it was.

There he was…

You knew that head of feathers anywhere as Tokoyami had his wrists down on the kitchen counter, head down with a glass of water beside him. Poor thing looked out of it, at least that’s what you thought because his feathers seemed more ruffled and messier than how they normally looked. And you wondered just what was he doing up at this ungodly hour? Although it wouldn’t surprise you if he was an insomniac like you were, it would certainly explain it because while he enjoyed the darkness, you had a feeling that there was also more than that to him.

But then a sadder thought came to mind, after everything you had been through, you, Tokoyami, and Bakugo, Shouji, Midoriya and the others for that matter, there’s no way you guys would forget that. No emotional teenager would because of how horrifying that all way, and you wondered if there was an anxiety thing going on, or even a night terror since you, Tokoyami, Bakugo and Midoriya probably came out of this ordeal the most psychologically scathed.

That was it, wasn’t it?

Now you really wanted to actually talk to him the more you thought about it, but you were so lost in thought you didn’t even hear the quiet gasp leaving the raven as his crimson eyes widened after picking his head up and seeing your head pop up from the couch.

No, no this couldn’t be happening...

TO BE CONTINUED...

[thoughtfullyyoungduck]

Married at first sight Reddie AU

Summary: Sonia applies Eddie for a tv show called married at first sight, what she doesn’t know is that Eddie secretly changes his preferences from female to male

A/N: I based this on the married at first sight australia, It’s possible that all married at first sight show are the same, but I’ve only ever seen this one. Please let me know what you think! 

Warnings: cursing and dirty jokes (It’s Richie) 

Eddie hates his mother. He had had this though all throughout his childhood, but right at this moment, he had never meant it more. He knew that his mother didn’t accept the fact that he was gay, he knew that very well, but he had never suspected that her urgency in him finding a wife would result in her enlisting him for married at first fucking sight. Eddie has watched the show on multiple occasions, and he always laughed when he saw the poor unfortunate people who got matched to their seemingly worst nightmare of spouses. He had never thought he would become one of those idiots. His mother had registered him to the show, and only had let him in on it when it was too late to back out.

Actually, it wasn’t even Sonia that told him about it. He had been in his office, working long hours because he hated to go home now that his mother lived there too. Sonia had injured her leg in an accident and had insisted that she stayed with Eddie until her leg was healed, and he hadn’t had the heart to tell her no. He decided to stay in his office longer, that way he got paid overtime, and he avoided his mother as much as possible. It was a win-win situation. It was however not such a great idea to take the phone call there. When the voice on the line told him that he needed to come in to give them some extra information about himself, Eddie lost it. He had threatened with lawsuits, exclaiming that he had no idea what was even going on.  

He had to give the woman, Greta he believed her name was, credit for staying as calm as she could be, given the way Eddie started tyrannizing against her. She had calmly explained to him that it was his mother that had called in for him, claiming that he himself was too busy to do it, but that he gave full consent. She also told him that he was to appear on the show, and if he didn’t, he would be fined a check of 50.000 dollars, and that was money Eddie just couldn’t throw away like that. He had slammed down his phone after shouting a few insults at the woman, sinking down into his chair with his chest heaving. He gripped his hair in his hands, pulling tightly and almost pulling out some of his hairs.  

He was going to kill him mother, he thought. But he did realize that he had no choice but to agree to be on the show, seeing as there was no way out. He had fumed for at least an hour more, thinking about how he was going to chuck his mother out of the house, how he was going to cut all ties with her, and how he was going to file for a restraining order before coming up with a much better idea.  

A smirk pulled at his lips. If his mother wanted him to find a spouse so desperate, then he was going to do so. He called back to Greta, apologized to her and agreed to being on the show with one exception. He was going to marry a man. When he came home later that day, he acted enthusiastically, embracing his mother, even though it caused chills to run through his body, and thanked her up and down about the amazing opportunity she had gave him. Sonia was beside herself from happiness, praising the lords for curing her poor baby, and giving him a chance to redeem himself. Eddie watched with anger filled eyes as she did her night prayer, he was going to show her just how redeemed he was.

The first day the producers of the show come to film, Eddie throws a fit once more. They come into his house without notice of them coming that day, causing him to have to call out of work and cancel lunch he was supposed to be having with an old childhood friend. Said friend asked him why he had to cancel, and Eddie has been too embarrassed to admit that he was enrolled in married at first sight, so he had made up some excuse about his mother being very ill.

It made Eddie feel horrible to lie, and his resentment towards his mother grew bit by bit. He was supposed to have friends over to help him decide on what to wear, but he could only think of one person who was distant enough to appear on tv, which was his work colleague called Matthew. He and Matthew weren’t particularly close.

In fact, Eddie didn’t have very many people at all he liked to spend his time with, choosing instead to come home and relax in the confinement of his home. He remembers vaguely a time where that was different, he thinks back to day spend swimming in a lake, or jumping off cliffs, but that sounded so unlike him he dismissed the idea to his pure childhood imagination. He probably saw other kids do this, and became a bit jealous, this resulting in him imagining doing those things himself.

Regardless, him and Matthew at lunch together, and on rare occasions they would go to a bar to get some drinks, or go to a movie theater. So he was the first one that came to Eddie’s mind when Greta appeared, saying that he needed someone who could tell them what kind of person he was. Matthew was all too happy to skip out of work, and made his way over there in a mere hour.

Eddie in the meantime was dying, cleaning every surface at least twice, because people kept touching stuff that they weren’t supposed too. Eddie hated that those people were probably transferring germs onto every surface in his apartment, but he didn’t say anything, because he knew how he would make it look on the camera. He did some interviews explaining that he joined the show because he didn’t know how to tell guys were guy and he had been single for so long, which technically was true.

Most people at his office knew he was gay, he made no secret of that. But they had never actually seen him with a man. He had met a woman once called Myra, but that relationship only lasted two months because he had realized she was way more like his mother than anyone would feel comfortable with. It took a while before Eddie was comfortable with exposing that was into guys, and a big part of that had to do with his mother, but luckily his workplace had been the exact right fit for him. On the first day his boss had showed up with his husband, and Eddie had just stared at the both of them kissing in public. He had no idea there were people who were that open and out to the world in the workplace.

He had damn near lost his job, because his boss had interpreted him staring at them in a wrong way. Eddie had just spouted it out, surprised at his own words, ‘I’m gay too.’ His boss had looked surprised, especially when Eddie told him that it was the first time he had ever said it out loud. Thankfully, his boss had just laughed and he had been nothing but kind to Eddie ever since.

When Matthew finally arrived Eddie dragged his towards a suite store right away, wanting to get it over with as soon as possible. Unfortunately, Eddie hadn’t realized how long these interviews would take, and he was already tired of it.

Matthew had joked with him when they finally finished up with shooting for the day, saying that he would just have to get out in the first week, not understanding that that was exactly what Eddie had planned.

Eddie was sure he would drive the poor guy crazy within the first 2 days regardless. When Eddie hadn’t responded to Eddie’s jokes, he had looked peculiar, but he had let it go.

They had picked a dark blue suit, with a rainbow colored hand achieve, thanks to Eddie’s intention to ruin this entire plan for his mother.  

She doesn’t even notice though. The day before the wedding, Eddie’s starting to have doubts about his whole idea of what the next day should look like. He had been in a haze of fury when he asked the producer to match him with a man, but he hadn’t thought of the repercussions, about how his mom would react. He hated her, but he couldn’t help but love her too. She was the one that gave birth to him, and he often had conflicted feelings about that. He should love her mom than just because she gave brought him to life, he should love her because she’s a woman who has cared for him all his life and who taught him all the important things in life, he doesn’t though and he despises himself for that.

He’s starting to think that it might not be such a good idea when his mom mentions how proud her sisters are of him, and how they can’t wait to see her tomorrow. He hadn’t even know that they were coming.

He can’t sleep that night and he gives up on trying to at around five a.m. instead opting to pace throughout his kitchen, drinking enough coffee to have his hands shaking like crazy. His mother wakes up at six, as she always does, and she has the brightest smile on her face that Eddie has ever seen. It annoys him, the fact that she’s only this happy because he’s about to get a wife. He doesn’t respond to it although he really wants too. Even more when his mother says; ‘I’m glad you finally feel better Eddie-bear and out those sick and filthy thoughts out of your head. I’m proud of you for choosing the right thing.’ Eddie instantly doesn’t feel guilty anymore about what’s he’s about to do.

He knew that his wedding was going to take place in a tent outside in the woods, he had managed to compromise with Greta. His wedding was supposed to take place on the beach, but Eddie refused to step foot on the sand, and Greta had reluctantly agreed. He’s not exactly ecstatic about this venue either, but it’ll do.

He paid the janitor that cleans his office to clean the tent, so he knows he’ll do everything in his power to get it as clean as possible. When he tells his mom where they’re going as they’re in the car, his mom throws a fit.

‘Do you know how much dirt and diseases are in the forest Eddie-bear? Would you really want to risk that? How would that beautiful girl feel when she has to walk with her white dress into branches and bugs on the floor. She acts like a toddler. Eddie doesn’t have it in himself to argue with her that it wasn’t even his choice, he just lets her rant. His mother has been fantasizing about how his ‘true’ love would look like. Eddie doesn’t think that the experts really have it in them to find the eighth matches, he thinks it’s bullshit. Still, the woman his mother describes, blond hair, short and a ‘caring’ personality is nothing like Eddie’s type at all. He hopes to god, he doesn’t get stuck with someone like Sonia. He don’t think he’d even survive a week.

He's worried too, about how he’ll look on tv. He has spend his whole life putting on a façade towards the world. He’s done it with his mother ever since he found out he was gay, and later towards his workplace too, because he didn’t feel like he could trust anyone. It’s been exhausting, and when he gets to his apartment to spend the night by himself, he can finally breath. He doesn’t have to worry about what people will think of him, and he can just be Eddie, not at Edward.

He’s afraid that he’ll be filmed for an entire day and won’t be able to present himself as pristine and proper, the way Sonia had always insisted he was. Eddie didn’t think he was all that formal as people might think of him. Granted he never took risks and organized everything to a T, but sometimes he had these irrational impulses, to jump headfirst into danger, and to feel the thrill of it. At times he could feel the anger burning in his veins when one of his partners came up with an idiot plan and he had to excuse himself to the bathroom because if he didn’t, he might actually kill him.

But those were all the kind of things Eddie didn’t show, didn’t want to show. He knew however, that his ‘partner’ would want to know everything about him, and Eddie couldn’t even be honest with himself at times, let alone to some stranger he had just met.

He’s there first, which is honestly a blessing. There are a lot of chairs unfilled, both on his side and on the side of the mystery guy. His mother takes it upon herself to greet the brides family, and he shuffles behind her, like a petulant child. The parents of his future husband introduce themselves as Wentworth, ‘went’ Tozier and Maggie Tozier. Maggie has the warmest smile on her face as she looks at Eddie, which Eddie graciously returns. He turns beet red though, when Sonia starts asking about their ‘beautiful daughter’.

If Eddie could go back in the past, he’d just pay that damn fine, nothing is worth standing here like an idiot. He can’t though, and it’s starting to dawn on him that his mother will most definitely make a fit, and that will be televised to show to the entire country. He rubs his hands on his trousers nervously, and he makes eye contact with Maggie. She stares at him, looks him right in the eyes and though Eddie wants to look away, he feels like he can’t. She seems to look for something, and Eddie can see from the corner of his eyes how her hand lands on Went’s arm.

Went looks at her, opens his mouth to, most likely to dispute Sonia’s statement and tell her that he in fact has a son, but him and his wife seem to have a silent conversation, and he closes his mouth again. Maggie changes the conversation.

When the traditional wedding song starts, he panics. He looks at his mom who looks as smug as could be, and he looks at Matthew standing besides him, and he nearly cries. He can’t have her throw a tantrum and it being filmed. He couldn’t bare to have people all over the country know that his mother treats him the way she does, and he just lets her. He looks back at his assistant in the front row, on the other side of his mom and he makes a gesture at her. She jumps up fast and runs towards him, a confused look on her face. ‘You have to get my mom out of here,’ he begs her, his voice desperate. She opens her mouth to argue, Eddie knows, since she absolutely despised the woman, but Eddie buts in first. ‘Please, I’ll do anything you want.’

She fixes him with a look, smiles and turns back around towards Sonia. ‘Mom, I need you to go with Erika and get the gift I bought for my future spouse, I left it there.’ The car is at least a 10 minute walk if you walked fast which Sonia Kaspbrak does not do, and he didn’t even buy a gift. He knows it not enough time to cover a wedding, but he hopes Erika can distract her ling enough. His plan on getting revenge flies out the window, he’ll deal with her later.  

His mother looks baffled, but Eddie and Erika are already ushering her away. ‘But Eddie-bear, I’ll miss the wedding’, she complains, but she’s following Erika out already. She’s only doing it because she wants to appear as motherly as possible.

‘Don’t worry mss Kaspbrak, the always plays the song when the bride just left her apartment.’ Erika tries to sooth. It’s an awful excuse and Erika winces, but Sonia just nods and makes her way, slowly, towards the limo.

Just in time. As soon as she disappears in the woods, a car stops in front of the massive tent they’re in, and he looks down nervously. He can’t do this. In his mind  he can already hear his mothers screeching voice when she sees a man walk in, and a headache is already forming. He hears footstep behind him, as he had turned his back towards the entrance. He squeezes his eyes shut and he hopes against all hope that the camera isn’t pointed at him right now, the hope is feeble.

He glances behind him when he hears a laugh from their guests, and when he does he’s struck with an intense feeling of familiarity. He doesn’t’ know why, but he feels like he knows this person.

He can’t possibly though and Eddie shakes the weird feeling. He looks at the guy up and down. He’s actually kind of hot. Not in the conventional way, cause he’s kind of scruffy looking, his hair looks like it hasn’t been combed in days and his suit is wrinkled, not to mention the fact that he isn’t wearing matching socks. But he has this charm about him that Eddie instantly likes. He looks sweet almost, the way he’s staring at Eddie, with his jaw dropped open, but then his lips curl into a smirk.

‘Yowza, nobody told me I’d be pared with cutie’, the stranger says, and his entourages burst out laughing. Eddie snorts, but doesn’t respond as he steps in front of him. ‘I’m Eddie Kaspbrak’, Eddie says formally with a slight strain in his voice. The stranger grins sweetly, ignoring Eddie’s outstretched hand and dragging him into a hug. ‘I’m Richie Tozier’, he responds, ‘It’s not to meet you Eds.’

Eddie frowns, ‘It’s Eddie, not Eds. Eddie is already a nickname.’

Richie just shakes his head, still with that damn grin on his face. ‘I think I’ll stick to Eds, Eds.’

Eddie chooses to ignore him, mostly because he wants this wedding to be over as fast as possible. ‘What do you do for a living’, Eddie mumbles when the court official begins to talk. He knows he should pay attention, but he’s about to marry this guy who he knows literally nothing about.

Richie leans down, seemingly on purpose to tart Eddie about their height difference, and answers his question. ‘I’m a famous comedian’, he response. Eddie admits that he looks the part. He almost laughs, this guy was everything his mother would hate. He wonders how Erika is doing, and f she’s having any luck with distracting her.

The ceremony goes fast, way faster that Eddie had expected, and it seems like he only blinked before it’s time for their vows. He goes first. He doesn’t want to be made fun off if Richie’s speech turns out way better. He clears his throat and turns his body towards Richie, trying to calm his erratic heart.

‘Hello new husband, as you might know by now, my name is Eddie. I can’t believe I’m actually doing this, but here we are. I’ll warn you in advance, I hate germs, of any kind, so you’ll have to keep the house as clean as can be. I’m not brave, so don’t try and roll me in any adventures. All in all, I’m pretty boring. All I can promise you is that I’ll try my absolute hardest to be the best spouse I can be, and I’ll do my best to be a listening ear to you all the time. Instead at night of course’. Everyone laughs at his last sentence. Richie is smiling, a real smile this time.

Eddie’s heart skips a beat, and he can’t believe that he might actually like this lanky, brown haired giant. He tries to ignore it, there’s no way he’s already into a guy he met at most twenty minutes ago.

‘You are brave’, Richie whispers, so quietly Eddie is sure only he and the official can hear him, not even the camera’s. ‘you came here and did this, that already proves you’re braver than you think.’ Eddie blinks in surprise, and it seems that Richie snaps out of it too. He laughs nervously, and for a second he makes eye contact with his mother, who gives him an encouraging nod. ‘Eddie Spaghetti’, he begins.

‘That’s worse than Eds’, Eddie deadpans, and Richie laughs his ass off. Eddie laughs with him, for a moment he forgets that he’s being filmed.

‘I promise that I’ll always be ready with stupid jokes, who I’m gonna test out on you of course, and make you laugh every day. I also promise that I’ll always be ready to it going if you know what I mean, day and night’, he winks and Eddie pretends to gag. Everyone laughs once more. ‘I don’t know what else to say, you got lucky with me buddy, I bet we’re gonna have a great time.’ Richie finishes his speech with a bow towards his guest. They clap for him and Eddie rolls his eyes, muttering under his breath. ‘Drama Quinn.’

Richie hears him and grasps his chest where his heart lays. ‘You wound me Eds.’

‘By the power vested in me by the state’, Eddie hears the words vaguely, because he’s suddenly worrying about the question of whether or not they should kiss. He kind of wants to if he’s honest, but he doesn’t know if Richie does. ‘I now pronounce you husband and husband.’ Both Eddie and Richie stare at each other. It’s Eddie that leaps forward first, without even realizing it himself. They share a quick peck, it’s barely even considered a kiss, but Eddie loves the feeling of Richie’s chapped lips. He’s supposed to be disgusted by that, but he most definitely is not.  

When Richie and Eddie pull away, When Eddie falls back on his heels, he hears a gasp. His mother is standing there, alongside Erika who is smiling at the two of them. Eddie’s eyes widen. Sonia begins to cry immediately. ‘Oh look Eds, I made your mom cry. And for once it’s not because of my dick.’ Eddie gulps, his eyes unmoving from his mother. ‘Hey Eds you okay?’ Richie asks, with genuine concern. Eddie ignores him, subconsciously grabbing his hand. Richie reciprocate the movement, thankfully. ‘We’ve got to go,’ Eddie says, ‘now.’

And so they do. Richie doesn’t ask any questions, at least not yet, and Eddie is so damn grateful for that that he could almost kiss Richie again. His mother almost passes out, and she grabs Eddie’s cuff when he passes her.

‘Edward, what is this. What’s happening?’ She demands to now, and despite the fact that Eddie wants to escape the situation as fast as possible, he know he can’t.

‘Well misses K, one, we’re very gay. And two I’m sorry but we can’t continue are relationship, I know you’ll miss our evening dates, but I can only date one Kaspbrak at a time.’ Sonia gapes, trying to figure out how to form words and how to respond to it.

Before she can however, Richie tugs Eddie closer, and Eddie follows in a daze, he can’t comprehend what just happened. Nobody had ever stood up to Sonia like that.

When Eddie and Richie get seated in the limo, Eddie kisses Richie on his cheek. Richie blushes a bright red, trying to conceal it but failing miserably. Eddie thinks that he might be happier than he has been in a long long time.

[prorevenge]

Hell hath no fury like a teenager scorned...

It's a long story, spans years of time. ~~~Cue hazy flashback to 1997/8~~~

Growing up, my family ran a business dealing with water and wastewater pumps. By the time I was in high school, I worked for them outside of school as needed, and I'd grown up around the industry. At the time of this story I was 16, maybe 17. I got a few funny looks out in the field sometimes, but normally wasn't a problem, this time, it was.

Many sales they make do are bids. You go to the builders exchange, which is basically a library for plans and blueprints. You pull the plans, get to the part applicable to you, and see what they want or need. Then you submit a price you think will win you the job.

Many times the plans will actually specify a model that meets their needs, in which case you bid that or a comparable one. Other times, they will give specifications and selection and matching is up to you, going through books and software for curves (chart that shows how it flows under load).

This time was the former. The job is a retrofit/expansion on the city plant. The engineer had specified a model of pump he wanted, and I'd matched it's specs. Put in a submittal for approval on the substitution as required. It gets approved and we are cleared to enter a bid.

We proceed forward putting together the bid. At one point, I have the plans in front of me and I'm looking at the drawings. I don't like what I'm seeing, which is a lot of pipe and a lot of distance. I check and recheck and come up with the same result. The total head (head is how far you're pumping, calculated by distance and including losses from the pipe) is too much for the pump that was specified, way too much. This puts the pump way outside it's curve, it's going to be deep into overload.

I used my corrected numbers and found a proper match, but not only was it significantly more expensive, but physically different, would require large revisions. So I put together a revised submittal with the numbers I ran, and the recommended pump. It included the math from the drawings and the curves. Faxed it over to the engineers office, then I called him.

It did not go well. Not only did he not listen to me, he was more than happy to lecture me. How dare I, a kid, tell him how to do his job. No, he would not accept any revisions or resubmittals, I had no idea what I was talking about and I, personally, was no longer to have contact on this project. He did not use nice words.

This couldn't stand, it was going to cause serious problems down the line. So I did the only thing I could think of, I found the contact for city planning and told him. Made it about three minutes into trying to explain who I was and why I was calling before he cut me off and told me to refer to Engineer and not to contact him again. Tried again for someone else later, did not make it past receptionist.

As. You. Wish.

I took the revised submittal and filed it in the back of the job file and moved on. (I wasn't needed for the rest and I had other things to do, plus school)

Fast forward almost two years, now going to college, still working for my folks as needed. Construction complete, get called in for startup. Goes smoothly as it should, and the countdown to destruction begins.

I think the first one went after about three months? Only made it that long because those pumps are very well built. Emergency ship in a replacement. Second one a week or three after, then another, and another, then the replacements start failing. The whole time, these are being invoiced including emergency shipping, and having to run out to start them up every time. They have no choice, THIS is the model the pads were cast for and the piping run for. You can't directly substitute something else, like, say, the correct pumps.

Then it gets really fun. They start returning the burnt out units for warranty.

The factory starts receiving these and tearing them down for failure analysis. I told our rep straight up that they were being run way outside their design point knowingly, he was not amused. Warranty is denied and they are billed for the diagnostic time and shipping. Manufacturer was in Germany by the way (shout out to the fine folks at KSB, love ya). These units are neither small, nor light. Plus these are being shipped as emergency orders. It's not cheap.

Warranties officially denied to the buyer. We tell them in no uncertain terms that this isn't a problem with the units. (this is now almost a year after the plant was due to come online)

Now the shit has really hit the fan. City council gets involved, because this is a municipal plant. Lawsuits are threatened, and a council meeting is scheduled to discuss further action.

I marked the day, and arranged with my teachers to take a few days off (didn't live close to home). Drove 3 1/2 hours to see my parents, and, to visit their filing cabinet. Right where I left it. Out came the revised submittal, and a quick trip to Kinkos (local copy shop) provided some wonderful blown up posters of said submittal as well as the proofs behind it.

The next day, I drove another 2 1/2 hours up to said City, had a lovely meatball sandwich at a restaurant right across the street from the council building and showed up to the council meeting. I even dressed up nice for the occasion.

I didn't say anything to anyone, just sat in the back in my chair with my rolled up posters next to me and waited. Took about forty minutes.

The council finally brings up the plant. Guess who comes up to testify in front of the council? It's Engineer.

He goes on for about ten minutes talking shit about our company and how we are denying the warranties. Basically states that the problem is due to the substitution and that our pumps were substandard.

This is a loss now counted in the millions between the downtime and replacement costs and rejected warranties, labor etc. Council swallows his bullshit hook, line and sinker. He sits down and the council starts discussing among themselves. This is my cue.

I stand up, approach the podium, and wait for them to notice me, doesn't take long as I'm a teenager in a city council meeting. I introduce myself and unroll the posters.

Me: Hi! I'm Crispy Silicon from Goingtoruinyourfuckingday! Before you proceed any further, you should probably have a look at this, which is the revised submittal I sent to Engineer prior to the initial bid. You'll note the date. Also attached you'll find the supporting calculations, relevant drawings from the original plans, and the recommendation of a larger suitable unit. You'll also see the fax acknowledgement sheet, showing it was received by his office.

Me: Immediately after sending that, I contacted Engineer directly and advised him of these issues. He declined, I was told outright to keep my nose out of things I didn't understand and to leave engineering to the adults. He was well aware the units would self destruct if run at this point.

Me: After that I called your planner, who refused to listen, and referred me back to Engineer.

Me: If you'd like, I'd be more than willing to contact our phone provider, so they can verify that fax and those calls were placed?

I'm grinning like the Cheshire Cat at this point and I'm not holding back the evil one bit. I'm sure I looked like a psychopath, couldn't help it, also didn't care.

Dead. Fucking. Silence.

Me: So yeah, the warranties are void as all of the units were operated well beyond their design point. I still stand by the revised submittal, so feel free to call when you're ready. I'll leave these here.

Still completely silent. The entire council looks like I just dropped my pants and mooned them. Then after a few seconds, one of the ladies on the council gave me a "Thank you Mr. Silicon. You can go."

I left my posters on the podium, turned and walked, made full eye contact with Engineer as long as I could with that same grin. He looked like he was probably going to vomit, didn't stick around to check.

Stopped by to give my folks a hug on the way back to school and that was the end of my involvement.

No idea what happened to Engineer or Planner, but the City paid every invoice in full without another peep. They had continue to purchase replacement after replacement to limp it along while simultaneously trying to re-refit the plant. They finally got it fixed after about another year, but by that time, I can't even imagine how far over the projected estimate they were.

(source) story by (/u/crispysilicon)

[fromsolowithlove]

Like a Sucker Punch - Complete

WARNING: REAL PERSON FANFICTION w/ Adam Driver & Daisy Ridley (Daiver)

WARNING TAGS:  NSFW, INFIDELITY, CONSENSUAL INFIDELITY, EMOTIONAL INFIDELITY

Summary: Daisy gets in her head and tries to ignore unresolved feelings for Adam throughout the filming of the Star Wars Sequel Trilogy and the events that surround it. Each chapter inspired by a song from the lovely Sigrid.

Words: 11.2K

Rating: Very much E. NSFW. Unless you have a very understanding boss. Or are self-employed.

Ultimately decided to post the complete fic here on Tumblr as well, cause why the hell not? This little fic baby got its start here first anyways before moving onto AO3.

Again, this isn’t for you if you can’t stand the shipping of Daiver. In no way does this reflect my deep dark conspiracy theories. It’s just my work of FICTION. A fun outlet. An angsty rom-com, if you will, starring two people with fantastic natural chemistry.

Now that I’ve lost all my followers 😈, READ THE ENTIRE FIC BELOW���🏽

Chapter 1 - Strangers

“How about a twenty, folks?” JJ called for a break after deciding something wasn’t quite right about the scene they were filming. Rey and Kylo’s kiss had to carry the weight of three movies worth of waiting. Everyone involved knew its scale. It couldn’t be half-assed.

“Let’s make it a tight twenty,” Adam clarified.

Daisy sat up first, letting her chest fall over her legs. She inhaled a deep breath as she felt the fatigue of the past week settle into her bones.

Adam reached for her hand and pulled her up to a standing position.

“I wish JJ would give us a little more in terms of what he wants,” he muttered.

Daisy pulled her mouth into a tight smile and replied, “Well you know what he said. He wants us to decide how the moment should go. Says we know best about how our characters would have felt finally getting to this point.”

“And yet he’s obviously not happy with whatever we’re giving him.” Adam’s voice rose, but he relaxed his shoulders and tried to shake it off. “Sorry Dais, you know I’m not frustrated with you.” He offered her a small smile in repentance, his mouth barely angling up, but eyes filled with warmth.

Daisy playfully slapped his chest with her open hand. “Uh-huh. SURE.” She turned to walk away, smiling to herself as she heard him let out a low chuckle.

She walked off to the side, picked up her water bottle and raised it to her lips. She let it absently fill her up as she stared at Adam across the way. She couldn’t believe the warmth that was developing in her stomach again. Her cheeks followed closely behind as the familiar flush returned. She wanted to slap herself.

Leading up to this point, Daisy had thought herself finally over him. Had she and Adam shared intimate moments during their prior years filming together? Of course. Skellig Michael was an especially treasured moment. After all, there had been such a small group of cast and crew present. It had made it easy to pretend this wasn’t some crazy heavy-budget movie that was resting on her shoulders. “Don’t go through the crew like wildfire!” Carrie had warned. And she hadn’t. Adam wasn’t the crew. He was her co-star. And did she know in her logical mind about the infamous co-star syndrome? Of course, she did. She quickly reminded herself of a time back at Tring Park. She had started feeling a deep fondness and attraction to her costar back in Romeo and Juliet. But just as her lines and blocking points had faded from memory with time, so had her attraction.

This thing with Adam, however, had not. And it angered her. Confused her. Made her unsure of whether she could trust herself. Made her question if she had it in her to continue a career as an actress. Would she fall for every costar she ever had? Jeez, wouldn’t that be embarrassing? No one would want to hire a walking lawsuit waiting to happen. A little voice deep inside had always told her that she was a fraud. That she didn't deserve to be in the presence of the great actors that she called friends and coworkers.

“You know… I’ve got this friend who’s working on casting ‘Into the Woods’. I could throw your name her way. I see you as the perfect Milky White.”

Suddenly, Daisy was snapped back to reality by a teasing voice to her right. She raised her eyebrows and side-eyed the man who had been occupying her thoughts.

“What?”

“You know. Because you just finished that water bottle in one swig and cows really love water,” Adam began to explain.

“I thought that was camels?”

“Nope. Cows.” He paused for a brief moment before adding in, “Yeah, definitely cows.”

“You’re an odd one, bestie,” she teased.

“And yet, you’re still here.”

As if I had a choice. Trust me, I’ve been trying to put up my distance, she thought.

Before she had a chance to respond with another snarky response, JJ called an end to their break.

Another deep breath.

“Shall we resume the most frustrating scene ever, then?” she asked Adam.

He shuffled his feet and gazed out to the side, refusing to meet her eyes. “Very true. I honestly didn’t think it would be this hard.”

“Ehhh, it’s all me. You’re perfect as always, Adam.” She blushed and ran off, chiding herself for acting like a stupid school girl.

Despite her embarrassment, the break must have helped. Only a few takes later, Daisy found herself in the most comfortable staring contest with Adam. It was a moment that she wished she could have frozen forever.

Except that she shouldn’t have been thinking of Adam. She should have been thinking of Ben.

At the realization that she was letting her personal feelings bleed into her acting, she wrinkled her nose in frustration. “DAMN IT," she shouted. "I’m so sorry everyone! This next one is it, I swear.”

Adam reached over and placed his hand over hers. He gave her a small smile and she quietly cursed her heart. Its increasing pace threatened to give her secret away. “It’s okay," he said. "I feel it too. We’re almost there.”

Both of them were right, and JJ declared the last take as “THE ONE”. The room erupted with whooping and hollering. Everyone began circulating with hugs, thank-yous, and high fives. Daisy second-guessed going over to Adam, but knew it would be even more telling to avoid him.

When she reached him, she did her best to give a small hug. Adam, however, wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her in tighter.

“Well, it’s been great,” she started. “Thank you so much. It’s truly been an honor to work with you, Adam.” Her eyes started to well, knowing things between them would never be the same again. Hell, they hadn’t been this whole time.

“Hey, look, I’m sorry.” Adam’s words were barely louder than a whisper.

“For what?”

“You know. For everything. For making things weird between us. I, I never should have -"

“Never should have what?” she challenged. Should have let me fall in love with you? Treated me like I was yours? Let me believe we could ever be more than this great act of pretend? Those last thoughts rattled at the gate of her mouth, but remained hers to keep.

He glanced down, unable to handle her gaze that begged him for words he couldn’t say out loud.

“I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about Adam. It’s been nothing but the best professional experience.”

He winced, and for a moment, Daisy almost felt guilty. But the anger and pain returned swiftly. She felt all too happy to have made him feel what she imagined to be only a small fraction of her own torment.

“To our amazing leads!” someone toasted a few feet over. “I’ve worked on a lot of movies, and it’s rare we get two incredible actors like you both. You made me believe I was watching a true relationship unfold, not just two really well-acted characters. To Daisy and Adam! To making us believe in the unreal.”

Everyone cheered in agreement around them and Daisy felt her heart rise up to her throat.

Exactly Dais. The unreal.

Suddenly, it was all too much to handle and Daisy could no longer stand to be around anyone. She gave them all a quick glance, muttered thanks and ran off. Once she returned to her dressing room, she turned her speakers back on. She started laughing through runny tears at the irony of Sigrid’s lyrics that filled the space.

When the curtain drops

Our touch is just a touch

Not like in the movies

Our story’s after the end

Like strangers

Perfect pretenders

We’re falling head over heels

For something that ain’t real

It could never be us, eh

Just you and I

Chapter 2 - Mine Right Now

Two Years Earlier

“Amazing work, both of you! Now go do something fun. Relaxing. Happy. Today’s scene was so emotionally taxing. I couldn’t bear to be responsible for any dark spiraling that follows today.”

“Oh, it's really alright. I take full responsibility for my own dark spiraling, Rian,” Adam joked.

“Well true as that may be, I am serious. You've both earned a night of not thinking about work. I'll see you tomorrow.”

Rian gave them both a quick hug before leaving them to finish gathering their things.

Daisy cleared her throat before she could back out. “So, what do you say, Driver? How about a little drinky poo?” She wiggled her eyebrows at her co-star suggestively before bursting into laughter.

“Sure. As long as you promise not to judge me for ordering a cocktail.”

Praying that her face wasn’t showing her utter shock, she continued to push her luck. “You’re kidding! You never go out! With the crew. With me. Mysterious Adam Driver slums it with Daisy Ridley? What would the missus think?!”

“Dais…” She watched as he ran his hands through his hair, certain that she had crossed a line.

“Sorry. So sorry. Uncalled for.”

“I just don't like to talk about Joa-, my wife a lot.”

Of course, he didn't. Not with coworkers at least. She was kidding herself to think they were anything more than that. Trying to salvage the situation, she asked, “Too late to throw in my white flag?”

He stared at her longer than he ever had outside of filming. “Not at all. But let's head out before it gets too late. I've got an early training session tomorrow.”

Relieved that she hadn't completely blown it, she felt her heartbeat pick back up. This was really about to happen. She was going to be alone with Adam and, by orders from the boss man himself - prohibited from talking about work. “Right, of course. I'll meet you outside in five?”

He gave her a small nod before turning to leave her to her things.

Her bag was already packed, but she used the next five minutes to compose herself. Tonight would be uncharted territory. Her relationship with Adam had grown into a fond friendship over the last two years. And so had her attraction to him. She rationalized it to herself as the intimacy of a truly trusting professional relationship. After all, they had to trust each other with abandon to pull off the demands of stunts and emotional scene work. Still, somewhere deep down she knew that for her, this was more than just trusting a coworker or friend. On the other hand, she could happily say that she wasn't the only one guilty of flirting now and again.

When she met him outside, he led her to his car. She was tired beyond her wits and grateful to have him drive.

“Where to?” He asked. “The Bridge Bar?”

“No. That's where the crew always goes.”

“Don't wanna be seen with the big bad villain, huh?”

“Yes. I mean, no!” Words escaped her as she tried to explain herself. “All I mean is that...I agree with Rian. Today was a lot. And I'd rather not have to socialize with anyone at the moment.”

“Oh. I can drive you back to the hotel, then. I just thought...since you had asked...that -”

“I'm trying to say I just want to be alone with you!” she blurted.

“Oh.” Her frustration built at Adam's sudden lack of articulation and her blatant confession.

“God. That sounded creepy as hell. Please, can we forget I ever opened my mouth? Just take me to get a drink somewhere, Adam. Anywhere but the Bridge Bar. Please.”

His eyes met hers for only a moment before he drove off with a quick nod.

The drive couldn't have been more than fifteen minutes. Yet somehow, it was both the longest and shortest stretch of time. Adam, apparently still shell shocked by his pushy costar, hadn't said anything to her. Well, except to point out a few key places of local history. Fear brewed in her stomach as she resigned herself to the fact that he would probably call his agent after this. He would make his agent promise that he'd never have to work with someone as unprofessional as her again.

The silence was good for one thing, though. She figured her career and their relationship, working or otherwise, were both soon to be over. So she used the time to check him out free of shame. She focused first on his hands. The way his fingers tapped like a pianist against the steering wheel at every stop. It made her wonder how they would feel tapping against her skin. His legs were still too large for the space, despite his seat being pulled back to the furthest setting. In fact, if she were to straddle him right now, she'd likely slide right down his thighs. It'd bring her right where she wanted to be, pressed up against his hardness. She pictured the intimacy of that position, how his face would be easily within her reach. How she could run her hands into his hair and bite down into his full lips. She'd be able to watch him lift an eyebrow at her, just like he was doing now.

Oh shit, like he was doing now. He had definitely caught her fantasizing about him.

He looked thoroughly amused. “Everything alright?”

“Course.” She refused to accept defeat and wrinkled her nose in defense. “Now stop staring at me like... THAT and let's go!”

An hour later, she was on her third pint and Adam was still nursing his first cocktail. She looked from his face to his glass and back.

“You make me feel like an alchy!”

He let a low chuckle. “I told you, I've got training early tomorrow. If I go any heavier than this, I'm going to regret it. Just trying to be responsible.”

“How about this right now? Coming out with me. Is it part of your plan to be responsible?” Oh...so aggressively-honest, drunk Daisy was here to play.

A small shake of his head. “ Honestly? Still haven't decided.”

“Is that why you never hang out with me?”

“No. You've just never invited me before.”

“That's not true!”

“In groups, yes... But you know me. I don't do…people. Large groups, anyways,” Adam shrugged.

“Does that mean if I had asked you and it was only us, you would've said yes?”

He chuckled nervously. “Well, I'm here tonight, aren't I?”

She poked him in the shoulder and elicited a small OWW. “I'm honestly quite mad now. That's critical intel you've been keeping from me. We could've been besties by now!” she whined.

“Besties, huh?”

“Yes, that's right.”

“Ok. Then we’re besties. Anything you want.”

Before she could catch it, the small suggestion escaped in a rasp she didn’t know she had. “Anything?”

He gulped and met her eyes. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was just her giving in to years of repressed wants. She slowly got up from the table, still holding his gaze. She turned and started toward the back of the bar. The jury was still out on whether it was to leave the burn of his stare or to initiate something incredibly risky.

There wasn’t enough time to consider her motives when she felt her body go on high alert. The darkness of the hallway intensified all her other senses. She knew it was him even before his hand slid across her back to grip her waist. It was the way he walked so gently to avoid disturbing a space. The way he took slow calculated steps in consideration of everyone smaller than him.

Instead of turning her toward him, he closed their gap and brought his mouth down against her ear. She braced herself for the warmth of his lips but shivered as he spoke. “I’m a simple guy, Daisy. I don’t do games. I told you that you can have anything you want. And right now, I want to kiss you. Is that what you want?”

She turned around and tilted her head back to accommodate for how much bigger he was than her. The urge to wrap her hands around his neck was almost magnetic, but she fought it. It was possible that she might not survive the electricity of feeling his skin under her fingers. His hands slid down to hold her by her hips, apparently just as stubborn as she was to avoid making the first move. Hurried breaths reached her ears but she didn’t know which of them it was coming from.

She felt him studying her face and instinctively bit down on her lower lip. He seemed to acknowledge this movement as an agreement. Before she could brace herself, he said “Fuck it” and crashed against her mouth.

As soon as he felt her melt into the kiss, there was nothing tender about his attack. Her fingers laced into his hair, urging his tongue to press harder against hers. Adam lifted her up and slammed her back against the wall. At this angle, there was no doubt that he wanted this as badly as she did. She rolled her hips against his and the groan that escaped his mouth filled every hollow of her body.

It was more than she could have ever imagined. Tongues fought for dominance as they battled to memorize every curve and point of each other’s mouth. But it wasn’t enough. Now that she knew this need wasn’t one-sided, she was greedy and was going to take what she wanted.

“Bathroom,” she muttered against his lips. He understood immediately and walked them into the first door. Her bottom still sat against his forearms and legs wrapped around his waist. Once they entered, the lock of the door signaled more danger. The heat at her core grew.

She whimpered as he set her down, lamenting the loss of his body weight against hers. Her annoyance didn’t last long, though, as he flattened his palm between her legs.

“Let me make you feel good.”

“Already there,” she huffed out.

“Trust me, Dais.” He smothered her with another cardiac arrest-inducing kiss. “This is only the surface of how good you and I can feel together.”

With that, he invaded her leggings as his middle finger ran up and down her wetness.

“Oh god. Adam, I-I. Please don’t stop.”

He continued his slow teasing as she watched him swallow. “I told you. Anything you want. But not even the apocalypse could stop me from stroking you right now.”

She laughed at him. “Only you could make me feel this turned on and ready to burst with laughter at the same time.”

“Only actively trying at one of those right now,” he grunted. “But happy to help.”

Her smile quickly faded as her chin dropped and a moan broke free.

His finger ran its way up to her clit before sliding back down to push into her entrance.

He absorbed her moan with his mouth and flicked his tongue against hers. She imagined him repeating the motion where his finger was now working. She clenched but soon released. As close as she was to the edge, she wasn’t willing to let him off this easily.

She rubbed her hand against the hardness threatening to break the fly of his pants. He closed his eyes and let out a small whimper. She slowly pulled back, reaching to bring her leggings down to her knees. She turned to bend over against the sink.

“Please, I need to feel you inside me.”

She watched as Adam moved toward her slowly, each second that she waited for him feeling like torture. His hand found her entrance again, now sliding in two fingers. He pumped into her slower this time, leaning over her smaller frame.

“You’ve got to be crazy if you think I’m gonna fuck you here in this bathroom. I’ve thought about this for too long to end it with a quickie. Let’s go back to the hotel.”

She worked her hips against his hand for a bit longer before accepting defeat. Immediately, part of her worried that he was using this as an excuse to break off whatever this was. But another part considered what could happen within the walls of a hotel room.

The drive back felt like punishment. The only thing that stopped her from worrying was the fact that she felt the buzz of his need for her in the air. Every glance he threw her way was full of hunger. She thanked all her lucky stars that he had only had one drink. Having to walk back to the hotel would’ve taken even longer and would’ve surely put a stop to this.

Once they got to the hotel, they navigated the lobby and hallway with caution. They both knew to keep their distance. Without discussion, she led him to her room, making out with him as soon as his tall frame was through the threshold.

Hands on his belt, she inched backward toward her bed. Suddenly, she felt Adam pull back.

His hands ran through his hair, a sure tell of his discomfort.

“We shouldn't be doing this. I've been so good at trying to keep things professional between us. From the very first table read, I saw you and knew I had to be careful. It helped to remind myself that this was your first big film. But this second film has been different. So much more comfortable. Like we’ve known each other forever. I find myself constantly wanting to be around you. Telling myself that you’ve got no reason outside of work to spend time with me is a daily routine. But then you invited me out and I got high on the thought that someone like you might want me, too. But I let it get too far. This was a mistake. I should go.”

She couldn’t believe the audacity he had to tell her those things. Her face flushed, no longer from being turned on, but instead from anger.

“Well fuck you, Adam. You're a FUCKING COWARD!”

He matched the disgust in her voice. “I'm fucking married, Daisy.”

“Oh, I'm well aware. Every day that I pretend it's only my character that's pulled toward you? I remind myself you're married. On the days we don't work together and I sit wishing you were there with me? I remind myself you're married. It might as well be tattooed on my bloody tongue considering how many times I have to tell myself. So don't pretend you're doing me a favor by telling me something that does absolutely nothing to stop me from wanting you !”

She panted with exasperation.

“It should.”

“Well, it doesn't. I’m not asking for forever, Adam. I’m just asking you to be mine right now. I know how this plays out. I always have. And spoiler alert, in no version of our story does it end with you and I walking hand in hand through a hardware store, picking out wallpaper for our future child's room. It does, however, always end with me in England and you going back to HER,” she spat out. “So either hand me that bottle of tequila so I can forget this ever happened or be a man and finish what you fucking started. ”

The hunger was back in his eyes as they dared each other to blink first.

“I'm going to hell for this,” he said through gritted teeth, taking a step toward her.

“I'll see you there,” she smirked.

Clothes flew off in a race as they stumbled onto the bed. She laid back and gasped when she saw how big he was.

Adam worked to cover her entire body with kisses that she was convinced would leave marks. “I have to tell you something.”

“What’s that?” he asked absently, lightly grazing her nipple with his teeth.

She struggled to focus, her desire battling with any coherent thoughts.

“I have a, a condition” she breathed out between moans.

“Ok,” he acknowledged, moving on to treat her second nipple to the same attention.

“It-it makes it painful for me to take anything...anyone...too...OH MY GOD. Too deep.” He blew against her nipple as she tried to finish. “And... I think ...you would get very deep.”

A smirk stretched across his face. “Then you let me know if it’s too much.” His fingers found her folds again, dripping with her need to feel him. “How should I take you?”

“Any way you want,” she breathed out. “I’ll let you know if I can’t handle it.”

Adam began to look around and she realized what he was looking for.

“Oh. And I, uh, have an IUD because of the condition. It’s actually easier for me to take you if you don’t wear a condom.”

He growled, then grabbed his length in his hand and began rubbing himself against her opening. She could feel her need coating him. She lifted her hips and he accepted her offer with a slow thrust into her center. He filled her like no one had before, except maybe a toy her sister had gifted her as a gag gift.

“Daisy…” he moaned, his solid biceps holding himself up to keep from penetrating her too deeply.

He stayed there just like that for a while, wrapped by her and taking short breaths. Knowing that he was probably nervous to hurt her sent a pang to her heart.

“I. You. You feel so good. You can give me more,” she pleaded. “Not deeper, just, it feels so good when you slide in me.”

Still balancing his weight over her body, he began to fuck into her faster. “I can’t tell you how many times I’ve rubbed my cock wishing it were you around me,” he said.

She squeezed in response. He responded by pulling out and sliding back in agonizingly slow.

Her patience had left her from the moment he touched her in the bar hallway. She began to move her hips in a figure-eight motion, urging him to leave his mark in every part of her. He took her hint and picked up his tempo, being happily rewarded with her repetitive moaning of his name.

Adam stared at her, his gaze unwavering. He had a unique way of making her feel nothing and everything all at once. It was a feeling she could get used to, even feel possessive over. And with that thought, she cursed herself for confusing this for something more. She zoned back into reality and pushed against his shoulder while using her hips to flip him over. He groaned in delight at the position change and she ground into his hardness. Anxious to rid the moment of any sentiment, she began bouncing up and down along his length. He ran his hand up her thigh and over her hip. He continued to move inward until his thumb found her clit, palm still resting flat against her stomach. God, the size of this man was enough to make her come.

Feeling her pick up speed, he urged her on. “Come for me, Daisy. Let yourself go on this hard cock. You love how hard I am for you, don’t you?” He continued rubbing soft circles into her clit. Matched with his words, it was enough for her to cry out his name.

She unraveled onto his chest just as she felt him grunt and fill her. Waves of satisfaction continued to pass as they laid together. He cradled her against him as they waited for their breaths to slow.

He slowly lifted her off of him and turned her to face him. He kissed her softly and lay his head back against the pillow. His eyes seemed to search hers for answers on how to handle this transition back into reality. Not having a clue, she chose the easy way out and turned her back to him to lay on her side. Adam took it as an invitation for another level of intimacy. Her whole body tensed and released as she felt him lay tiny kisses behind her ear. He worked downwards, finally settling his chin into the crook of her neck. He reached for her hand and laced their fingers together.

She sighed, knowing what she needed to do. “3, 2, 1. Okay. Here goes. I’m about to do the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life.”

“No, you just finished doing the hardest thing you’ve ever done in your life like...two minutes ago.”

“Wow. What a terribly awful innuendo that was.”

“But not untrue?” he teased.

“I’m serious. Adam, as much as it pains me to say this. I think you should go. This was truly...unbelievable. Like, really, really, good. But like I said, I don't expect anything else from this. From you. But if you stay the night...I just might get confused.”

“No.”

“No? Not really up for debate. Go.” She used all her strength to push the giant out of her bed.

He stood but didn’t make any movement to get ready. “I won’t.”

She threw on her sternest face and blinked slowly. “I’m saying you have to.”

Undeterred by her insistence, he stroked her cheek with his thumb and settled it against her lips. “Shh, you’re mine right now.”

That was enough to make her give up her fight and pull his face down to hers. They resumed their earlier position as he turned her onto her side. His body spooned hers protectively and he planted a gentle kiss against her shoulder. It seemed to be his new favorite spot. Her stomach dropped and filled with fear and guilt. She closed her eyes and hoped that sleep would come soon - knowing it was too late to avoid the crash and burn.

Chapter 3 - Don’t Feel Like Crying

Daisy’s alarm went off on her phone as she dragged the starched hotel pillow over her head.

“Shut up, you!”

She fumbled to find the source of her disturbance and squeezed until the ringing stopped. It was still dark out and she didn’t know who she had pissed off to be called in at such a god-awful hour.

She was being dramatic.

In actuality, she knew she hadn’t angered anyone. Strange hours were a well-known consequence of her chosen profession. But she also knew her internal body clock wasn't wired for this.

Over the past month, Daisy hadn’t spent more than three nights in a single bed. As she glanced in the mirror, she could see it was beginning to take a toll on her. She adored the world of professional acting - but, the press and promos? Not so much. I’ll be looking 40 before I even turn 30, she thought, reaching for her eye cream.

She moved like a zombie through her hotel room, choosing vegan snacks and a tea tumbler in place of brains. Today was going to be another long stretch, but in a few more days, it would all be over.

Over. What a strange concept that was. She allowed herself to think back to the very first press tour for The Force Awakens. It was all so new and exciting back then. It had been nerve-wracking of course, but there was also something so special about that time. Her heart twinged as she remembered that year with fondness. In spite of the whirlwind of interviews, red carpets, and photoshoots, she had formed new bonds. It was a time of getting to know her castmates, crew members, hair and makeup artists.

And him, her ugly conscience reminded her.

Right. Him.

He had slightly more experience than her when it came to the press, but that didn’t make him hate it any less. Like her, he had never done anything on so large a scale. The pressure to be someone that both kids and adults could relate to was a different kind of terrifying. Naturally, they had latched onto one another. Her delightful inexperience with the industry offset his social unease and aloof tendencies. They would find ways to make each other laugh after answering the same question for the tenth time that day. Late nights were spent walking through foreign cities in disguises. Forced together by a job, they had become close friends.

And then there was the filming of The Last Jedi. Friends soon grew into something more. There was a closeness between them, the kind one would find between childhood mates. A sense of protection and duty to the other. Yet, too fused with desire to call it platonic. There was no proper label for what they were. Not when there was a stifling awareness of their complex situation. After that first night together, they had spent a few more weeks in a bubble of their own. It wasn’t all smiles, but it was all theirs.

Still, she wasn’t wrong when she had told him, “In no version of our story does it end with you and I…”

They had both seen the ending from the start. He had tried to pull away before it even began. She had tried to protect her heart by keeping it fun. In the end, none of that did anything to lessen the pain.

“Daisy,” he whispered over the phone. She could tell he had been drinking. The sun was beginning to wake London which meant it was the middle of the night in New York.

“Joanne’s pregnant,” he forced out.

Any other time, she would have made a smartass comment about his voice cracking. But now, no words rose.

She heard him take a few more breaths as if he was going to say more. When she continued to sit there in silence, he began again.

“I know we were supposed to meet up but –“

It was too much. Daisy hung up the call and threw her phone onto the mattress, watching it bounce onto the floor. Her body shook violently as tears spilled out. A buzz against the hardwood signaled another incoming call. She didn’t need to look to see who it was.

“FUCKING HELL!” she screamed into the empty apartment. Unintelligible cries came out in waves, sounding more hoarse and strained as they went on.

Minutes, then hours passed until she finally went numb.

“Excuse me, miss? Are you alright?” Somehow, Daisy had made it from her hotel room into the elevator, whose doors now opened to the lobby. She wondered how long she had been stuck here in her memories.

“Oh, yes. I’m so sorry to hold you up.”

She left the elevator and threw on a smile. This is your dream, Daisy. Remember? The wound is where the light enters. The wound is where the light enters.

The day had been a blur of photoshoots, interviews, and trials for tomorrow’s premiere look. In theory, she should’ve been very tired by now. Yet, she lay on top of her covers nursing nervous energy. What did she have to be nervous about?

Besides everyone hating the movie that you’re at the center of? she thought.

It seemed her old friend, anxiety, was right on schedule.

She considered heading to the gym. Maybe she could work off the negative energy. But this was Los Angeles, not London. She was sure to be mobbed, disguise or not. Her phone vibrated on the side table and she reluctantly stole a glance.

Joanne will be with me tomorrow at the premiere. Looking forward to seeing you. - A

The nausea and shortness of breath that followed confirmed a fear. She was, in fact, nervous about more than just the reception of the film.

---

“Come, everyone! I need more selfies to remember you all by!”

It was a fact that no one could ever deny Joonas his selfies. There were kind people in the world, good people, even - and then there was Joonas. Daisy paused mid-conversation with John to squeeze in for the photo. Adam turned around from his discussion as well and offered her a small smile. Her stomach felt like it was filling with helium until she shook her head and body into submission. She responded with a small “hello” before turning her gaze to Joonas’ phone.

Joonas studied the photo with pleasure and brought his friends in for a quick hug. He asked them what they had been up to since they last saw one another. Their answers went unheard when his manager came to steal him away. John's agent soon followed and he checked in with Daisy with his eyes. "I'll see you in a bit, Peanut?" She feigned contentment and gave a small nod.

The unease washed over her again when Daisy was finally alone with Adam.

He cleared his throat. “You look beautiful, Dais.”

“That’s very kind, thank you. You look quite handsome as well.”

Pleasantries continued and she hardly recognized the words she was hearing. She and Adam despised small talk. This wasn't them. But then again, "them" was a long-forgotten memory.

At the realization, Daisy sighed and dropped her guard. Her eyes darkened. “Why did you text me, Adam?”

“Oh. I wasn't sure if you had received it.”

“Why,” she repeated, losing her patience.

“I don’t know. I thought you should know. That you might...want to know?” He was starting to gesture his hands wildly and she knew she had caught him off guard. “I...after the way we left off at the end of filming...I thought you might want to...prepare yourself? But that was presumptuous of me, I’m sorry. You’re clearly okay. Very okay. ”

When she didn’t respond, Adam scratched the back of his neck. “So uh, I got a chance to see bits of interviews you’ve done. You didn’t have to say all those nice things, you know. Especially after everything that happened.”

“Why not? There’s no point in lying. Also, it’s strange,” she paused. “Cause you see, whenever I’m in an interview and someone asks me something, and I go oh! There was that one time that Adam and I - And at first I would think, God, you can’t share that, Dais! You’ll look like a lovesick puppy. All the headlines will read, Daisy Ridley, a Fool for Her Co-star? But then I decided that I didn't care. That as long as I had all these memories, really fun and dear ones - it meant that it was real.”

“Of course it was real.”

She led him into a smaller hallway. This conversation was never part of the plan, but she knew that any news of it could hurt both her and Adam in a way that would be unsalvageable.

“How can you be so sure? You’re the one who walked away.”

“That’s not fair. You never gave me a chance to figure it out.”

“Bloody hell, Adam. There was nothing to figure out. When you called me to tell me you were going to be a father, you’d already made your choice. You only called because, in some sick, twisted way, you were hoping for my permission. You needed me to tell you it was okay.”

“No, I needed you to know how complicated it was.”

She took a deep breath and turned to face the wall. “The wound is where the light enters. The wound is where the light enters,” she whispered.

"What was that?"

She turned back, ignoring him and taking in his contorted expression. She straightened her spine and began. “I promised myself I was past this. So yes. It WAS complicated. But now - it’s not. There has to be something there for things to be complicated.”

“It’s still complicated for me,” he bit out.

“Please...just stop. Look, you were right. Just like always, you’re right. Between seeing you here and being sent everywhere to perform a dog and pony show, I’m not okay. Not even close. But being out here doing all this right now? The promotion and press - it's somehow the only thing helping me keep it together. As long as I’m busy, I don’t feel like crying."

He continued to stare at her but didn't venture a response. It seemed he no longer wished to argue, just listen.

She went on. "Don’t get me wrong. I understand how stupid I sound, whining about all of it. I understand the immense luck I’ve had that I get to do this for a living. You taught me that. But...I think I just need to be home for a bit. Need to lock myself up for a while. Sure, I’ll keep grinding it out and praying that someone sees me beyond this...circus. Get employed and all. But I just need a break.”

His eyes hadn’t left hers, so she broke the contact and spoke at her hands which she'd been wringing unknowingly.

“So please, let me go out there and do the old song and dance. Hug my friends, say goodbye to the role. Then I’ll go home to London and we'll never have to see each other again.”

“You can’t know that," his voice emerged, shaken by the finality of her statement.

She smiled gently and raised her eyes once more. “But I do. Everyone does. You and I no longer run in the same circles. You are...a force of nature, Adam. Like the ocean. You're reckless. Dangerous. But so damn beautiful to watch. Leaving a mark on everything you touch simply by being yourself. Me though, I'm just a rock that got swept up in your tide. Inevitably and forever changed by you, but unable to leave any impressions in return.”

She felt the heat forming behind her eyes and turned to leave before small droplets betrayed her. He grabbed for her hand but she pulled away in time. "Don't go," he whispered.

She turned with a final glance. "Thank you for everything, Adam. I don't regret a thing. But you don't get to decide things for me anymore."

Chapter 4 - Home to You

The sea air assaulted all her senses and she closed her eyes to let it wash over her. For the first time in months, she felt like she could breathe without struggle. Sure, the air was humid and rain was guaranteed to be waiting in the wings. But, it was freeing to be outside with absolutely no agenda.

She laughed.

That wasn't entirely true. She did have an agenda. But it was one all her own. This visit was all about leaving the bubble that her life has become, even if just for a few moments. It was about moving on. About liking herself again.

She had planned this trip a couple of months ago. She would have forgotten about it had her sisters not reminded her.

“Hush your beak, Dais,” Kika said. “You’re being absolutely ridiculous.”

“Am I?"

“Completely. You're not going to die a miserable, lonely, spinster.”

“I didn't say miserable and lonely!” She glared at her flesh and blood.

“Both of you. That's enough,” Poppy chimed in. “But Daisy, I do agree. Just because it sucks right now doesn't mean you're out of luck for the rest of your life. You made the right choice.”

“Breaking off an engagement. I'm the quintessential dumb millennial,” Daisy groaned.

“No, dumb would've been ignoring your true feelings. Your energy deserves to exist unbound. So do you.”

“But I don't feeeeeel unbound. I feel like some sort of gross hairball just stuck there waiting to be coughed out whenever the cat deems ready.”

Kika snorted and Poppy soon followed. Both her sisters unraveled into fits of giggles. After throwing a pillow at Kika's head, Daisy joined in.

The night had gone much like this. Tears, giggles, refill wine glasses. Repeat.

Daisy caught her breath from the laugh attack and sighed. “So what do I do now? Shut everyone out and vanish to a secluded place to find myself? ‘Eat Pray Love’ this out?”

“That's not a terrible idea,” said Poppy.

“I was only kidding. Mine isn't exactly a life you just walk out on without heavy speculation. Not even Joaquin Phoenix quit acting successfully.”

“Always the drama queen, Dais,” Kika muttered with a roll of her eyes. “But maybe it wouldn't hurt to take a vacation. Just a small one. Go. Grab your laptop. Let's find you someplace nice.”

Where to go? Where to go? she thought to herself. Her sisters chimed in with suggestions but she insisted on making the choice herself.

In a fog of restlessness, hurt, and nostalgia, she clicked away to her heart’s content. Thirty minutes later, she shut the lid. “Done,” she smiled, feeling victorious.

After reading the confirmation email the next morning, she considered canceling it. Choosing to travel there was a bad idea. Her finger hovered over the button as she thought about it more. There was a possibility that this could be the closure she needed to begin the next chapter of her life.

“Good morning!” a man called out. Daisy snapped out of her daydream and greeted the man she assumed was her driver.

“We're heading to Dingle, correct?”

An inhale. Then an exhale. It's too late to back out now, she told herself. “Yes. Thank you so much,” she answered with a smile.

---

A week and a half had passed since she had arrived in Ireland. She sat with her morning tea and sipped it, taking in how at peace she felt. She felt like the old Daisy, again. Or maybe a new one. It was hard to tell. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt so present in a moment.

Her stay hadn’t been all magical. The prior week was a different picture in all respects. Like torrential rains, Daisy was never at balance. One second, she felt euphoria from being in one of her favorite places. The next, only bittersweet flashbacks of memories to a time spent with someone who wasn't hers.

Phone in hand, she stared at the photo of the cliffside she had snapped on her drive the day before. It was nondescript enough - and she wasn't in it. But he would know where it was.

She only had a few days left before going home and she had been toying with the idea of reaching out to him for closure. During a sob-filled emergency phone session, her therapist had assured her it wasn’t necessary. But Daisy wanted to. Was determined to. Where better than from here, the place they had first fallen into this mess? She wanted to rewrite the narrative and make new memories in this place. She wanted to return home without burden.

Saw this view and couldn't help thinking of you. She deleted the words and tried again. While it was true, she had to establish boundaries. She didn't want him to think she was opening up the door to anything unhealthy. This was about making peace with the past and trying to relearn a friendship with him.

Recognize this? she typed. “That seems harmless enough,” she told herself.

“1, 2, 3, SEND!” Her finger froze. She got up and walked onto the balcony. She hoped some fresh air would give her the nerve. She repeated the countdown again. “You’ve got this, Dais!”

She couldn’t do it. She jumped up and down, shaking her limbs to pump herself up.

“OH SHIT,” she exclaimed as her phone slipped from her fingers. She caught it with a pincer grasp and made a mental note to thank her trainer for her quick reflexes. She kissed her phone in relief.

Then she saw it.

Her clumsiness had done it for her. She had sent the text.

“Well. That’s that, then.” Daisy tucked her phone back into her pocket knowing there was nothing she could do now.

After dinner, she drew herself a bath and poured a glass of wine. Her phone buzzed. She had forgotten to turn off the ringer.

“AGH. Who’s bothering me?” She reached to turn it off but stopped when she saw the notification. Adam had responded. Throughout the course of the day, she had forgotten about her text to him. Or her subconscious was working overtime to protect her if he didn’t text back.

How could I forget? I embarrassed myself soon after with shitty poetry recitation.

Though alone, she blushed. She had taken the photo because the view was breathtaking and so uniquely Dingle. She hadn’t sent it with the intention of reliving that afternoon. But now she couldn’t think of anything but. And the fact that Adam had brought it up sent a pulse straight to her core.

She closed her eyes and slid her hand downward. What started out that day years ago as an innocent request evolved at high speed.

They sat in the rental car staring out at Dunquin Harbor. He had just returned from Cannes to promote Paterson.

“What was filming that like? Quite different than this, I gather?”

“Yeah. I mean, yeah. Different type of film. Very little dialogue -”

“Wait, so actually very similar!”

Adam chuckled. “Paterson was very much a listener and a man of few words. Verbally, at least. His poetry is where the audience learns who he is.”

“Right! Tell me more about poetry!”

He rolled his lips inward. “Uh, what about it? I didn’t really know much going in, but meeting Ron Padgett, the poet who wrote the original poetry in the film was great. And Jim Jarmusch actually studied it in college. So yeah, definitely new for me.”

“So you spent some time studying some of this Ron guy’s work before you went into filming?”

“Among others. But, yes. It was helpful.”

“Can I hear some of it?”

“Yeah...let’s not,” he shied away.

She pulled out her phone and typed in “Ron Padgett poems” as he tried to change the subject. He called attention back to the landscape in front of them. She clicked through on a link and extended her phone to him.

“Here. Read it to me.”

He pulled a face.

“Please? It’s like a table read. But just for me.” She smiled and his mouth mirrored hers.

He squeezed her forearm affectionately before agreeing. “Only a little.”

“I’ll take whatever you want to give me,” she smirked, feeling quite pleased with herself.

“How to Be Perfect. By Ron Padgett."

“Get some sleep.” His thumb began stroking her forearm.

“Don't give advice.” He grazed his fingertips up her arm to draw circles around her shoulder.

“Take care of your teeth." A small kiss to the corner of her mouth.

“And gums.” Another to the opposite corner.

“Don't be afraid of anything,” his mouth met her temple.

“Beyond your control.”

“Don't be afraid.” A gentle stroke of her hair.

“For instance,”

“That the building,” he traced the line of her clavicle.

“Will collapse.” His fingers teased the sensitive skin of her neck.

“As you sleep.” A kiss to the shell of her ear.

“Or that someone - ” A quick bite of her lobe.

“You love,” he kissed her mouth tenderly.

“Will suddenly drop dead.” A small smile pulled at his mouth.

He took his hand and ran it down her body, stopping where her legs met.

“Eat an orange every morning.” He lifted her dress.

“Be friendly.” He teased her now with his index and middle finger in a V, rubbing soft strokes against the outer edge of her desire.

“It will help make you happy.” He brushed his hand across her clit and her breath caught in her throat.

“Raise your pulse rate.” Another brush.

“To 120 beats per minute.” Then pressure.

“For 20 straight minutes.” He rubbed up and down slowly.

“Four or five times a week - ” She raised her hips to grind against him faster. He laughed and removed his hand.

“Doing anything - ” She whined.

“You enjoy.” He returned his hand.

“Hope,” a finger pushed into her.

“for everything.” A deeper exploration of her.

“Expect nothing.” He withdrew himself.

He dropped the phone and took her face in his hands. He took her mouth like a man drinking his last sip of water before heading out into the scorching desert. His hand slid back down her torso, reading her need for release.

She put her phone down and let her own fingers roam downwards. She sighed as she softly teased herself, trying to mimic the light touches he had used. Ok, so closure may be harder than anticipated , she thought. Resigning to try again tomorrow, she put the phone down to focus on her pleasure. A reply could wait until then.

---

When she gathered the courage to respond to him the next day, she was filled with relief. Their exchange was easy and amicable. The familiarity comforted her like a childhood blanket.

She continued to update him about her trip. He laughed at the right moments and chided her the way any good friend would.

I don’t want to leave 😢, she typed to him.

Where are you headed next?

Home. I fly into Heathrow tomorrow. I’m not ready to be a proper adult again.

Ehh, I don’t think there’s such a thing. We’re all just faking it.

Thanks, friend. Any suggestions for my last night here in good ol Dingle?

A huge bacon cheeseburger.

You suck.

She laughed at his teasing. This was good. A healthy good. She wasn't even upset that she had to pack the mess that had accumulated over her stay.

---

Daisy walked off the plane and blinked in succession. There was Adam, attempting to look inconspicuous in a hoodie and sneakers.

“Oh. Hey, Adam. Are you...stalking me?”

“Kind of. I asked Kika for your flight information.”

Her phone started ringing. “Oh. This is awkward, but I've got a driver waiting to pick me up. It’s really nice to see you? But I have to go.”

He laughed nervously. “I...was kind of hoping you would let me go with you. I've got no other way of getting back.”

“Uh. Sure. Why not?”

---

An hour later, she thanked the driver and headed up to her apartment. Adam trailed behind with her bags. She unlocked the door to her apartment and gestured for him to enter.

“So, what brings you to London?” she began.

“I’m actually in France for the next month filming for a Ridley Scott movie.”

"Heh." An awkward laugh. “I knew that. I don’t know why I asked. I just didn’t wanna sound like a stalker. Then again, you showed up waiting outside my plane so I guess we’re both creepers now.”

He smiled. She melted.

“So...I’m not gonna lie...when I got your text - ”

“You know what?” she interrupted. “Hold that thought. This is kind of rude of me to cut you off. You’re a guest in my home and all. But I really need to do something first. And it’s going to be very awkward but just bear with me through it. Okay? Please?”

“I’m the one who intruded on your day so please, go ahead.”

She took a deep breath and looked him straight in the eyes. Be strong, Dais, she reminded herself.

“When I was in Ireland, I wrote you a letter.”

“Oh.”

“It’s going to be a lot, but I don’t know that I’ll have the balls to read this again. And right now, for some godforsaken reason, I feel like I can do it.”

“You don’t have to if you don't want to.”

“No, I’m going to.”

“Okay. Should I...turn around?” he suggested.

“No no. Just go ahead and sit down.”

Adam looked down, shifting his gaze from one edge of the chair to the other. He was already seated but was too polite to note that. “I will sit.”

Daisy walked over to her handbag and pulled out a paper folded into quarters. She hoped he didn’t notice how worn it looked. Proof that she had fumbled with it more times than necessary. If he noticed, he didn’t say anything. She offered him a silent thanks for that.

“Actually, I think I’ll turn around,” she muttered.

“Whatever makes you comfortable,” Adam said.

Her pulse was racing. “Here goes."

"Dear Adam,

I’d be lying if I said I’m not heartbroken right now. I know the last time we spoke, I told you I was past it, but we both know that was just me trying to put some distance between us. I’m gutted even thinking about the way you asked me to stay. It makes me want to cry all over again (which I’ve been doing a lot of over here).

It’s been REALLY hard to make all my feelings go away, which is the reason I’m writing you this letter. I’m desperate to do something, anything, to get proper closure and move on.

Saying goodbye to you feels like saying goodbye to a part of myself. That’s silly, though. What’s that saying? You can’t lose something that was never yours? Trying to let you go feels like trying to quit an addiction. Which I guess makes Dingle my rehab center (a really lovely one though).

Looking back at everything with 2020 vision (haha, get it? 2020?) - I was fucked from the start. Meeting you was completely life-altering in a way baby Dais could have never expected. You were so REAL in a blur of superficiality. Latching onto you felt like a way of holding onto reality. A tether to the tangible when everything and everyone else wanted to turn me into someone I wasn't ready to be.

And I think you felt that too, in a way. Which is how we fell so easily into friendship. I truly do think that what we had started off innocently, and I’m grateful you were there for it all.

But I’m also SO angry with you. I fell in love with you. And you let me. And for that - I want to scream at everyone and everything. IT'S SHIT. I know it’s not fair to place all the blame on you. But I was in my early 20s and the less experienced of us. I misplaced our mutual understanding onto something more. But as someone with a wife, you should’ve fought harder to push me away. Why didn’t you? Why didn’t you insult me until I hated you? Why did you say nice things to me in private and let me play make-believe?

My feelings for you were so obvious that anyone could have seen them from a mile away. I suspect most did. I was so hopeful that if I was patient and attentive, you might drop everything for me with a grand gesture. But eventually, I learned that that’s not who you are. I know you’ve struggled with many relationships in the past, both romantic and otherwise. Frankly, I think part of you finds romantic feelings uncomfortable. I don’t say it to be cruel, but I simply care for you and think maybe someone needs to say it. I don’t like that I tried to change you - it wasn’t my place. It isn’t anyone’s.

But onto the positive. Cause that’s what all this is supposed to be about. Typical Dais, unable to stay on task.

Loving you, as painful as it was, also taught me so much about myself. Professionally, being around you made me a better performer. I was so set on being a worthy scene partner. Your instincts always pushed me to find authenticity in everything. Your humbled way of approaching the business is still unlike anyone else’s I've met. I’ll always try to maintain these things as I go forward.

As a...romantic partner? You made me feel seen. As I’ve tried to move on with others, I always felt I’ve had to hide parts of me. Yes, our situation...fuck, let’s call it what it was. Our affair - was based on hiding. But only because of its nature. Behind closed doors, you accepted me in my entirety. The goofiness, the grotesque parts, the darker ideations. I never had to hide these parts with you. So in a way, loving you, then losing you, taught me that it shouldn’t have to feel controlled with the right person. I shouldn’t have to be a budget version of myself to be loved.

If these are truly the last words I say to you (even if not in actuality. Cause I’m a melt and may not even send this). Just a few thoughts. I am so proud of you. The awards and Ben Solo campaign are proof that the world finally sees what I’ve always known. You are a once in a lifetime type of human. I know you hate it - the recognition, but you deserve it. And so much more. I truly hope you’re happy. I know I’m trying to be.

All my love, Daisy”

When she mustered up the strength to turn around, she didn’t know if she was seeing straight. Through her watery eyes, it looked like Adam was crying, too.

“Daisy,” was all he said. He got up and walked toward her, taking her into his arms. Silent tears fell between them, darkening their clothing.

“I can’t lie. When you first texted me, I was shocked. I didn’t think I’d see your name in my phone for...Well, I didn’t know that I’d see it again.”

“I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

“Can I tell you something? It's actually why I came to see you.” He asked.

“Sure.” Her head was still pressed against his chest.

“I don’t expect you to say anything in response, but...Joanne and I separated. My PR will be announcing it in the next couple of months now that award season is over.”

“Oh,” was all that she could say.

“Yeah.”

“I called off the engagement. To Tom. He understood that my heart was never fully in it.”

“He did?”

“Alright, maybe not right away. But yes. He's all moved out. I think we might be able to be friends again, eventually.”

Adam looked around at the apartment for the first time. “I honestly didn’t notice.”

“Yeah, just little old me again.”

The energy in the apartment shifted and Adam tilted her chin up. He kissed her gently at first as if to test the waters. When she opened her mouth to take more of him in, his attack became more fierce. She matched his kisses, though the tears hadn’t stopped. It was a deadly cocktail of heartache, longing, and love.

She couldn’t get enough of him. The ache for him, both his heart and his growing hardness returned. It was like riding a bike. The solace of revealing every last feeling to him increased her desire. She no longer feared the ache of having him. Only the absence of his weight on her.

He carried her into her bedroom and laid her down on her stomach.

She felt him shimmy her pants down her ass. He laid soft kisses on each cheek before sliding his tongue up between them. Her whole body trembled as he explored every forbidden part of her.

“OH MY GOD,” she cried out.

Her encouragement was all he needed. He adjusted her knees so he could access her more easily. A small rub of her clit. A lapping of her juices. Then back to licking up into her from front to back. She had never had anyone taste her puckering hole before. She thought she might come right there. She reached back to pull at his hair and covered him with her release.

He flipped her onto her back and kissed her. She could taste herself on his lips. She had claimed him. Or maybe it was the other way around. Whatever it was, she needed more of this feeling.

She reached out and grabbed his erection, guiding it into herself. It had been so long since she had felt him. She forgot how deep he could feel. She squeezed him in. Further. Then further. His hair fell on his face and she reached up to push it back.

She lifted herself onto her elbows and kissed him up and down his neck. This made him go crazy and he took her with even more force. She felt split in two. He grabbed her breasts as he held his rapid pace. He returned the favor and nuzzled into the crook of her neck.

“So fucking beautiful,” he whispered into her ear.

“ADAM. I’M COMING,” she announced.

She wrapped her legs around his back and squeezed him in one last time. “DAISY. FUUUCK.” He collapsed onto her, their sweat and tears now indistinguishable.

A moment later, she came back to her senses. “Goddamnit,” Daisy said, staring at the ceiling. “That was not supposed to happen.”

Adam rolled over. “Why does it matter? We’re both single now. We can be together.”

“We can’t,” she insisted. “We can't just start over when we, THIS, started from a place of lies and hiding.”

“Who the hell cares, Dais? Whose business is it but ours?”

“Even you know it's not that easy.”

He growled. “I know that none of that changes how I feel about you. People-pleasing is a game for those that lack understanding of their core selves.”

“Ugh. You sound so pretentious!!”

“Well, I'm sorry if I'm a little confused. We're both single and now we can't be together?? Was I only appealing to you when I was married? Help me understand this shit because I sure as hell can't.”

She got off the bed and began throwing his clothes at him. “The fact you would even suggest that is infuriating. You need to go. I've said my piece. That was all this was about. There's no reset button to any of this.”

Fully dressed, he stopped at her bedroom door. He looked ready to punch the wall. At the last moment, he opened his fist. It was almost as if he realized he had done enough damage for the day. Instead, his heavy hand slammed against the door frame.

He continued on and reached for the front doorknob. He looked back at her and she shuddered. She had seen him angry and frustrated, but had never been the one in his sights.

With a slam of the door, he left.

She began crying. So much for closure, she thought. Daisy searched for her phone and debated calling her mum or sisters. But then, a sudden cold sweat came on. She would have to admit what had happened. She dropped the phone. She wasn't ready for that conversation yet.

Sometime later, a knock at her door startled her from her stupor. She panicked. Security knew better than to let anyone up without her prior approval.

She heard a throat clear and then a thud. Much like a stray limb hitting the hard surface. “OW.”

The voice was unmistakable. She opened the door.

She looked at him and stared blankly. Her eyes seemed to ask, What are you doing here?

He extended a dark chocolate bar toward her.

“Hi. I'm Adam.”

“What?” She stared at him like tiny giraffes were dancing on his shoulders.

He shushed her and started again. “Hi, I'm Adam. It's great to meet you. At the risk of looking like an ass...can I take you out? I know we just met, but I have a good feeling about this.”

Finally understanding him, she smiled.

[bobbiejelly]

Prom

You see your panties tacked to a bulletin board the following morning and all you can think about is the fact that Addison Montgomery-Shepherd once had her hands all over your underwear. - Meredith Grey 

MerAdd. meddison. F/F. Meredith Grey/Addison Montgomery. Beginning at GA-S2-E27, "Losing My Religion". Rated M for Chapter 1, Rated E for Future Chapters. Femslash.

  Chapter 1: Prom?

 You're a junior surgical intern at Seattle Grace Hospital named Meredith Grey and you have a massive problem eating away at you after the hospital prom.

And not the one that most people would imagine after having let your ex-boyfriend Derek Shepherd sleep with you while he's still married to Addison Montgomery-Shepherd, the tall leggy and fabulous McHot redhead goddess who is painfully smart, and annoyingly kind, and whom you have a massive inappropriate crush on, and have since she showed up here in Seattle.

You're really in some boiling hot water, now, you think to yourself…

You tell yourself you're not in love with her, already, because that would be totally insane, right?

You tell her that it's normal you quiver whenever you're with her on a consult.

Addison is your sort-of-mistake-of-a-not-boyfriend-Derek's WIFE for Crissakes!

(Years later, you'll realize you've already loved  her;  much more than you've ever loved him.)

You see your panties tacked to a bulletin board the following morning and all you can think about is the fact that Addison Montgomery-Shepherd once had her hands all over your underwear.

The thought nearly brings you to your knees with desire and you can't look her in the eye and not for the reason everyone thinks that you can't.

She's eyeing you because she knows you're a slut and she has proof now but she's not shouting it from the rooftops because she's classier than that.

And at the same time, she's all the pettier for 39.

The thought of her revenge really turns you on, and you're slightly shy about how hot-and-bothered you are at her angry and jealous reaction, as you pretend to yourself that it was for you and not him.

(Years later, Addison will drunkenly confess to you that it was jealousy for you, all along, and not for him as well...)

You know it was to send a message that only you could fully understand and maybe him. She knows and you know it was you even while Callie Torres claimed the blank undergarment as her own just to make George O'Malley blind jealous with rage.

When Derek found out about you losing your underwear and finding them tacked under the "Lost And Found '' sign he made a comment about how if there was a land called "Passive Agressiva" then she would be their queen.

Even Addison agrees with this assessment- because she's Addison- and she takes all the insults in stride; including being called "Satan" and "Slut" and "Whore" amongst other things like "Mrs. McDreamy" and "Ruler of All That Is Evil" and "McHot" which are more ambiguous as to whether or not they are good or bad.

You know that thinking more about how Derek calls her "the devil" will make you only fantasize harder about how kinky she must be.

Did Derek ever do stuff with her that would make him refer to her as such a thing?

Or was it just a figure of speech for him?

(Years later you would be extremely tempted to ask Mark Sloan about all of this. Though you're not sure you could compete with McSteamy for her affections.)

(And you're not sure you could punch him to the ground just like Derek did that one time if it didn't go well when you asked your co-dirty-mistress what it was like to screw around with the wife.)

(Besides, he might ask you what it was like to screw around with the husband and you're not sure if you want to know that side about Mark Sloan yet or maybe ever.)

You think that he never truly discovered Addison's true sexual prowess in the way that he could have because you hear secondhand or third hand from someone who heard it from Callie that he never slept with her starting from five years into their marriage.

You wonder how the hell he didn't when she was right there beside him in bed.

You realize you pointedly didn't think about why she didn't want to sleep with your mutual Derek the back half of her marriage, or maybe she did, and he just didn't and that was the answer.

You're sort of forgiving her for sleeping with Mark because you screw a hundred people when things aren't going well for you and it's not like you weren't getting laid in the first place.

Idly, you wonder if she feeds her libido with her own hands when she's not getting lucky with her McMen.

(Years later, you would find out she didn't even know how to do that to herself for years and she still doesn't without a showerhead).

(You would wonder at that point how she didn't combust internally from the pent up sexual frustration.)

(You wonder if she just had a lot of wet dreams, and when you find out that that's the case it sends you into a tailspin or imagination of what that must have felt like for her, and what those dreams were like and who they could have been about...)

(You wonder if she ever had even one of those dirty dreams about YOU.)

(Even once. Just out of some bizarre curiosity? A morbid fascination with the ex-husband's ex-mistress?)

(You try not to do THAT to yourself as you think of this thought. Fantasizing about someone's hypothetical fantasies is beyond fucked up, right? Even for you, about Addison no longer Shepherd?)

You can feel Addison staring at you all day and it's driving you crazy and not for the reason everyone thinks that it does.

Derek just thinks you're reacting to her post-divorce and staying in Seattle and trauma from being called "the other woman" again.

You'll never, ever, tell him that you're blushing because the predatory gaze is really working for you and you can't match it because you're scared she'll hate you even more for the truth if she finds out by reading your mind through your expression.

You stare at Addison only when you know she can't look at you back, or when it's socially appropriate to do so-

Such as in an O.R, or while she's the one currently talking in a conversation...

Or when she's teaching you over a patient and you have to quell your potential sexuality crisis to avoid earning a malpractice lawsuit from doing or saying something completely inappropriate regarding her in front of someone's dear friends and also family.

At some point, she asks you rhetorically "what the hell does he see in you anyway? What do you do for him that I can't or at least can't anymore? What about you makes him want you and not me?"

You bite your lip not to answer back in your lowest seductive tone "I can show you if you really do want to know..."

(Years later you'll wish you had been that much more foreword with her so maybe you two could have skipped some or all of this angst period and just hooked up then sooner, rather than eons later).

(But when you admit this to Addison, she'll tell you then, otherwise).

(You're not 100% sure if you believe her when she says this, but you decide to go along with it anyway because you really do love her.)

The turning point can't be for you two when you left Derek via a nonsexual double-entendre at Cristina's nonsuccessful wedding with Burke.

You cut your best friend out of her wedding dress and you hear her cry and you watch her, to make sure she's okay.

You're offered her ticket to go to Hawaii and on her honeymoon with her and when she makes a comment about you being seen as her "lesbian lover" by clueless passerby's you try not to stiffen at her accidental implication that you might not be straight after all.

The last time you joked about becoming lesbians was when you Derek were over or so you thought at the time and she and Burke were having issues too and you ran into the elevator muttering something about switching sides.

You would never want to do this WITH Cristina, though if she chose to start swinging that way with someone else you knew you would support her wholeheartedly.

You wonder if Cristina would support you the same way if she knew you were fantasizing about naked ladies.

The boys would love you even more for it. You're not sure what Izzie would say or what Callie would say but you decide that Izzie has probably kissed a girl at some point and that Callie probably wants to.

You don't ask either way?

You're in the stairwell one day and you see Addison catching her breath and you ask her what's wrong and she bursts into tears. She yells at you when you find her crying again in a supply closet and tells you to stay the fuck away.

But she didn't yell at you in the stairwell. She let you lay a hand out to her hip and say that you're sorry.

She let you apologize before she said thank you and walked away. You're not sure if she just needed to hear that from you, or if she knew you really needed to say it for yourself to her and she has enough of an inexplicable soft spot for you that she let you say it just to see the guilt wash off your face for a split second.

You realize you didn't feel ashamed when you were with her at that moment. You wonder if that's because you know and she knows that she's guilty of a similar act.

You ask Derek once he starts leading you on again what she was like in bed.

He thinks you're trying to win out competition over her for him, so he tells you.

(Years later, he realizes he could not have ever been more wrong about who you were always fighting for, really, between the two of them...)

He wants you to win over his wife, you think, even though he didn't come to the bar that night you said your 'pick me, choose me, love me' bullshit.

In retrospect, you realize begging someone to love you, is not a good way not to seem desperate.

You're desperate for Addison's attention even though you're not good at showing it.

You consider saying to her "I slept with Derek to get you to look at me, the same way you might have slept with Mark Sloan to get Derek to look at you".

But then you would never say that because you don't want to bring up her past failures even if she does herself, even to you, and that she did so to stand up for you on your first day of work, and you don't think it was because of Derek at all.

Addison said 'good girl' on her first or second day, and she really meant it, you think when you don't go back to him after she walked in to introduce herself in the hospital lobby.

(Years later, she'll tell you she really did want the best for you, then and that it was not about any sort of strengthening her claim on her then-husband.)

You wish you could tell her "good girl" as you're screwing her through her second or third orgasm of a heated evening.

(Years later, you'll realize that this is as good as you dreamed it to be...)

You realize she started seeing you as "as a person" when your friends tell you her voice broke when she said to them "you should prepare yourselves" when you drowned off the sound and she was there in your room watching with terrified eyes that you might not come back.

(Years later you'll ask her what you looked like in that hospital bed and she'll break down and cry and tell you that's when she knew you meant something to her).

When Addison left Seattle Grace Hospital and she left Seattle for good (or so you both thought at the time…), you never thought you would ever be able to explain to Derek why you cried as she walked away from you after giving you a look at the wedding when you left her ex-husband and your ex-boyfriend at the same time you called off Cristina's wedding to Burke.

 —

 It's approximately one year later when you finally crack and hit on Addison for real, at a bar, at Emerald City Bar, of course, and no less...

It's after she cares back to Seattle for a consult and she defended you to Derek and also defended Derek to you.

You asked if she was leaving already and she gave you some speech about a beach and Zen and Ghandi but all you could hear was the smoothness of her voice, husky after a drink or two.

You catch her arm again.

Addison turns around.

You tell her that now that Derek is with rose and that she doesn't want Mark now that you want her to know from you, only if she wants to, of course maybe just why Derek might have taken you home his first night in Seattle.

She stares wide-eyed at you before she drops your gaze for a second to ask you if this was the bar where he said he was just a guy and you said you were just a girl.

When you say it is, sadly, and a bit embarrassed about it...

That's when she surprises you beyond all expectations and says she cares too much about you to take advantage of your guilt to have sex with you just for her personal discovery.

You tell her that you put it that way to her because you didn't think she would sleep with you otherwise.

She looks at you sadly and gives you another hug and pulls you into her chest again because she doesn't want you to feel that your body is to be used for other people in that sort of way.

This time hugging Addison without Derek around is making you melt beyond all repair.

You cling to the back of her coat and she holds onto you and she nuzzles your head and she says she's sorry that her ex-husband never made good on his promise to her not ever to hurt you again.

You ask her when he promised her that.

Addison tells you that you were high at the time.

You realize that's when you thought you were pregnant with her husband's adulterous love-child baby and she was there to break the news that you weren't.

You just had a ruptured appendix and all your ex-boyfriends showed up to fix you in the same room at the same time and it made Bailey chuckle, albeit maybe not fondly, or maybe so, after all, you were high so you're not really sure.

You tell her you don't remember anything she said or what you said but you vaguely remember her talking with you in the same compassionate voice that she's using now with you while you were on morphine.

Addison smiles a sigh of relief when you tell her this news and you realize she must have said something to you she wasn't ready for you to hear her say yet, because she doesn't repeat to you now what she said to you when she was sober and you weren't.

(Years later when she does finally confess her speech about wishing she had a lot of things' and confessed that she wishes... ‘A lot of things' were things about doing right by you, and also about doing things with you, both platonically and also sexually...)

(Well, you'll hold her in your arms the way she was doing to you then at the bar when she came to Seattle one time.)

(Only you'll be lying down next to her to pull her head under your chin because you're too short and she is too tall for you to do that while you are both standing up.)

You ask Addison if she wants to talk more with you now and she says that she does.

She takes you home to your house because she says that taking you to her hotel room would be really trashy of her.

You think it doesn't matter if you end up taking your clothes off anyway but she seems to think that it really does.

You don't remember the cab ride to your place from Joe's, you didn't talk much, you just remember running your hand up her thigh and her not pulling away when you rubbed circles up to her hip.

You do remember arriving at your house and letting her in.

You realize that she's actually never seen this house before and you laugh at the thought because she's the only surgeon at Seattle Grace so far that hasn't set foot in this place, much less lived here at some point, like most of your intern friends and also Derek.

You don't talk about your mutual ex at all. You make it a point not to. You know tonight is for her and you, and you and her, only.

He's taken enough out of you both that you can recognize the scars that he scratched into your souls.

You can see through to them even before you start to take off her coat and she offers to hang yours alongside hers on the coat rack.

You make her some coffee in your kitchen to sober you both up a little.

And over coffee, you realize that you really do enjoy each other's company.

You realize you've never hung out with her, not high, one on one before, and you enjoy it at least as much as she does.

Addison is finished her coffee by the time you start making cocoa because you know she really likes it and she tells you she drinks it for good juju even when nobody has already died.

You start to be more touchy-feely with her while you start drinking your cocoa because she has her hands around your shoulder and she's kissing your temple.

You pull away just enough to ask her if she's drunk or if you are drunk. She says you're both probably not given the early time you left the bar together and the amount of non-alcoholic liquids and/or caffeine you both have consumed.

You say that's good because you don't want to take advantage of her. You won't make her a cheap lay just because she's good looking and vulnerable.

She's appalled by the thought because she was once your attending. You tell her she's not anymore because she moved to California, and she giggles when she tells you about things in LA.

You don't tell her that Derek once accused you of taking advantage of him at a bar.

You know that bringing him up will upset her and you- and that it's actually a really arrogant thing for him to have said to you on your first day of work.

You realize that Addison is better than him because she didn't let herself think of you in 'that way' while she was your boss because she didn't want you to become twice over a hospital whore from the other half of the same fucked-up marriage.

Addison wanted you too, but she never said, because she didn't want you to want her back while she was your superior.

You ask why you're different to her from Alex Karev. She says that she regrets Alex anyway, but with him at least she knew somehow even before he turned her down that despite what she heard second hand from Rebecca the patient that he would never actually fall for her for real.

You realize from this that she's insinuating that she thinks you would if you slept with her, then. You're appalled that she had such good a read on you while she was pretending to hate you for screwing her husband.

She tells you she has a much better poker face from years of being a Doctor. She tells you that you'll develop the same skill but she hopes that just because you'll learn to lie that you won't in a bad way.

You realize how much she has hurt for you and that you have hurt for her.

She says it's okay because she's glad she's met you.

You cry when you hear her speak those words because you've never heard those even from your own mother and father or even your uncle Richard.

It makes her cry for you, and you kiss her on the cheek just to make her stop sobbing so hard.

She starts laughing uncontrollably and you ask why and she says that she kissed Alex Karev at Joe's bar a year ago when he said that he never really had a real dad.

You ask why this is funny and she says that she must have an MO because she was about to ask you if you wanted for her to kiss her on the lips before you started to give her a kiss on the cheek.

You ask Addison if she still wants to ask you that anyway. And she says that she does.

You tell her that you wanted to kiss her for a really long time but that you didn't even know if she could swing that way.

She says she hasn't since before Derek, but that she used to be openly bisexual back in her college days.

You realized you'd moaned at her sentence when you see her eyes darkening and you feel her shiver and she asks if you're even gay at all.

You say that you always were (gay; a lot more than just a little bit, though not entirely, either...) and that you haven't been since Derek, either, but that you haven't stopped thinking about women and you haven't forgotten how to give them pleasure, either.

This time you notice that she's the one to moan out at your sentence.

You ask her what you never asked her all of those years ago.

You ask her if she finally wants to find out what you're made of.

She says she wants to have you naked only if you're sure you want to but not because of anything to do with other men.

You say that that's even better and you tell her you've wanted to have your way with her for a very long time.

She asks you since when?

You tell her since the hospital prom.

She asks you why, then?

You tell Addison you were watching her over Finn's shoulder and that you saw her watching you, too, along with Derek.

That she's the reason you got overheated when Finn Dandridge started talking about plans, and that when you ran off into the hallway, you'd wished it was her and not him to confront you in an exam room.

You wished it was her and not him who talked to you and gave you a speech about how they wished they weren't distracted by you.

How you wished with everything that you had that it was her and not him taking off your panties and making you come undone on that table next to the other bulletin board where your panties had once been.

How you wished it was her pocket that your panties had ended up in and not his, except a part of you was really glad and still is that you didn't turn her into the whore that you were that night.

How you were glad she didn't have to withstand the shame and the whispering and the chatter.

You tell her how you'd seen your panties tacked to a bulletin board the morning after that prom, and all you could think about since then is the fact that Addison Montgomery-No-Longer-Shepherd once had her hands all over your underwear.

She asks you if you want her to touch your panties again. You tell that you do always wanted to! And that you still do! And that you want her you want to take hers off as well!

You lead her upstairs to your bedroom and you close the door securely behind you.

You press her up against your bedroom door and you lean in to cup her face with your hands.

You tell her how beautiful she is and that she's a good person and that you hate how she doesn't love herself to let people tell her that without starting to protest.

You tell her you've seen the pain in her eyes and all you've ever wanted to do for her is to kiss it all better.

She says that the moment your lips touch hers that you will and that she's already long forgiven you for prom and for everything.

She says she asked on both sides for you to be with her own ex-husband because she thought that's what you wanted and what you needed to be happy and not even him.

You tell her that you're the doctor Shepherd you've always wanted most- and that she's not even called that and that makes it even better for you.

Addison tells you that you're the individual that she's actually secretly pined over for the longest time and that she'd thought she was going to live out her life without ever telling you that.

You swoon completely, and then you ask Addison if you can stop talking now and get to the kissing already.

She smiles and she leans into your forehead and you lean into hers.

And she asks you to start it first so she knows that you're certain.

And you say that you're more than sure.

And then you take her lips into hers.

And then you kiss her for hours.

Since you want to enjoy this.

You kiss Addison long and slow.

You haven't had this much fun since before you can remember back to.

Even more so than any and all sex you have previously had all combined.

And then you never ever let go, and neither does she, and you and Addison Montgomery spend the next few hours in pure unadulterated bliss in your bedroom.

You don't give a care what people at the hospital might do or say or tell other people behind both of your backs like they always do.

And it's far, far, far, better than any sex that either of you has ever had, previously, with anyone, much less with Finn or with Derek or with Mark or with George...

It's much, much, better than any sex or kisses or touches either of you has ever had at any event in your lives that may or may not be referred to as some sort of a Prom!

(Years later, when you talk about your first time together, still, to this day you'll remember saying that it was the best sex of your lives thus far. Period. Ever.)

 -Meredith Grey

As retold years later to Addison Montgomery. After your wedding to her. You tell this to her... And you tell her again, at your ten year anniversary, and again, when your first child together is finally born. And you both lived happily ever after, ever since, after all, even after the total disaster at the hospital Prom.

  *

*

*

*

*

***** END OF CHAPTER 1

   Author's Note:

Did you read the abridged version in bold throughout the story?

LOL. Semi-cheap writer's tactics. But it's a prom, so we get to be a bit corny and lame and a little bit cheesy, I guess…

Hope you enjoyed this story.

A lot of this was strongly influenced by reading AddisonAddek's work (you'll see some of your sylistics here, with the time jumps and self-angst and also the second person… Which I now apparently love. As an author, you're not sure if you'll like changing things up, but when you do, you think it's a little bit terrifying in a good way!)

Of course also shoutout to LordOfLezzies as usual as I'm rereading all their old works and I'm inspired by all the creative scenarios and I still have not seen this particular one anywhere so I decided to give it a go.

So, welcome to this one-shot of Prom? With MerAdd aftermath and also ending.

A slight homage to Coldplay's multiple versions of their hit song 'Lost!', here, with all the different punctuation marks.

How this ended up being written at 5 AM in the morning on a cell phone I will never understand.

See you around, folks. If you really, really, really, want to see the smut that is only implied here, let me know; that's why I left this open for more because I know myself well enough that I probably can't stay away. Though I'm really busy right now so maybe I will just leave it at that… Let me know in the comments!

Hope to hear all your thoughts on this.

If you're looking for something else to read, there's a new chapter up of Soothe - Chapter 16, and I'm hoping to get another one up really soon, as that is probably one of my favorite fanfictions that I've ever worked on.

Cheers, and see you around in the reviews, much love,

 bobbiejelly

@bobbiejelly

Full story here:

- You’ll need to read it on one of these platforms to catch the hidden message because it didn’t transpose itself onto this site ;)...

Ao3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24438112/chapters/58965151

Fanfiction:

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13599945/1/Prom

Wattpad:

https://www.wattpad.com/894346376-1-prom

HOPE TO SEE YOU IN THE COMMENTS!!!!

And a classical shoutout to @lordoflezzies @lordoflezzies @lespians @lucy-lane-deserves-better​ @hannidelialanagram​ @sassyygayy​ @tisziny​ @thenetflixgal​ @hime for your support, @hime1993​, and @addisxn-mxntgxmery​ and @heisenbeth​ for the cool blogs!, @answerstosatan​, @agentrosetyler-archive​ @weshallmeetagain @multifandomfix​ for the cool fanfics on this tag already on tumblr! @lerevedenemo, @almostintellectualunicorn, @justhereforthelesbians, @lerasklpnv, @jessicazavala1234, @bebopfirefly, @jeonghyo, @cyanskies, @lyduennn, @singwhenyoucantspeak, for interacting with me so far on Tumblr, by liking/reblogging my fanfiction posts, messaging, following, helping with questions and that sort of thing!

(If you’d like me to untag you or never tag you again, at any time just let me know!!!)

Yeah, that’s a lot of shoutouts. Also shoutouts to @foibles-blog-blog​ @stephisinsanity​ and @mammothluv​ because i’m taking a shot in the dark that these are your same usernames from Ao3 and your works are remarkable for MerAdd and/or grey’s and pp in general even if that was AGES AGO, but y’know, bobbiejelly is late to the fandom... And hoping some ppl still want it to exist more... 

If anyone knows of any other MerAdd writers around here, or if you are one yourself I haven’t met yet on Tumblr, pls. Comment on this post and/or message me! This platform is super new and I’m working on using it to gain more MerAdd in my life and also to share some stuff that is in the ether...

HAVE A GREAT ONE, FOLKS!!! HOPE YOU ENJOYED <3

MerAdd, meddison, Meredith Grey/Addison Montgomery for the win!!!

[ashesofus]

What is Business Mindset?

When we think of success, one of the images that comes to mind is often one of a business man (or woman) decked out in a suit, standing at the top of a high-rise building and looking out over the streets below. We associate business with success in this way for a number of reasons.

Firstly, success in business often brings money and riches. Secondly, success in business suggests a certain level of skill and ability and tends to yield a higher status and importance as a result. For all these reasons, business and success go hand in hand in our minds and for many, those are the specific heights that we are aiming for.

But is business success really what you want? How can you go about getting it? And what might you unwittingly be doing wrong that could be sabotaging your own success?

In this guide, we’ll take an in-depth look at what it means to be a success in business; and how you should go about getting there.

Be Careful What You Wish For

The first thing to remember is that you should be careful what you wish for. For many, the idea of success in business is a very romantic and idealistic one. It’s something we might spend a lot of time daydreaming about. But as is very often the case, the reality isn’t always what you might have expected. And it might not even really be your dreams that you’re having.

Let me explain.

Many of us associate success with business. We’ve already explained this and it seems to make sense on the face of it. But another of the reasons we hold this association in mind, is that we have been trained to think this way. Over many years, we have seen images of successful people almost always wearing suits and wielding power. This is how success is depicted in the movies and in the books.

We think of the film Limitless or maybe Wolf or Wall Street (despite the fact that both these movies were really lessons against seeking too much power, too quickly). Maybe you want to make your parents proud? Maybe you plan to follow in their footsteps?

The image of success that your grandma has is linked to business as well, after all! But this can then lead to your downfall. If it means that you then chase after things that don’t really bring you joy. If it means that you become the head of a big delivery company, or of a corporate legal team. Maybe it means you become a procurement manager.

Whatever the case, you can end up taking a stuffy job and being a ‘suit’ and attempting to get rich that way. You’ll start at the bottom, put in the hard graft and the work and climb the corporate ladder. But is that really what you want? Not only are you now facing years possibly decades  of working hard with very little reward, but you’re also going to be working toward something that may not be all that gratifying.

Sure, the pay is good when you’re standing in that high-rise, but do you really want all that responsibility? And do you feel all that passionately about the product or service your company is providing? The price of success is often that you end up staying late  until 8pm or 10pm  that you have to deal with people shouting at you down the phone and that you are responsible for millions of dollars.

All so that someone can get their boring parcel delivered on time. Or so that a dubious business can avoid a lawsuit. Is that really your image of ‘success’? And what do you spend the money on? Expensive clothes? A car? Was it really all worth it? In many senses, this is not really success. And not only that, but if you take this route.

If you climb the corporate ladder, put in the work and do your time, then you actually won’t be as successful as you possibly could be. Think of any massively successful businessman. Richard Branson, Bill Gates, Steve Jobs, Mark Zuckerberg, Elon Musk.

How many of them started a boring job and then ‘worked their way up’? No: they started passion projects. They looked for things that no one knew they needed yet. They innovated. Trailblazed. They came up with completely fresh and novel ideas. And because they did that, they were able to have breakthroughs that no one could have imagined: reach heights that were truly unprecedented.

The Strategy

So, here’s the strategy. Learn to separate ‘income’ from ‘wealth’. If you read the guide on the money mindset, you’ll see that the two absolutely do not go hand in hand. Then learn to separate your status at work from your personal sense of pride and accomplishment. You know what? If you write a brilliant novel in your spare time and not one person reads it then that should still be just as rewarding.

So, I want you to take some time out. To find your passion and to follow that path. But do it on the side. And view your day job as what it is: a necessary evil to help you get by in the interim. Over time, you can turn that passion into a way to make money. Then maybe you go part time. Then maybe you go full time. Then maybe you quit your day job.

Why Passion is Crucial for Success

When Elon Musk created SpaceX, he was not the massively well-known name that he is today. Musk was a relatively unknown name whose mission it was to encourage the private sector to venture into space. No small task. But you know what? Musk did it. And his explanation  one of his explanations  was that he aimed big. Many of us feel that we need to reign in our dreams and goals.

We have been led to believe that aiming too high will end in disappointment, will make us look foolish. But the reality is that aiming high is actually precisely what you need to do. Because when you aim high, you inspire others. When you have something exciting to say  and when you are clearly excited about it yourself  then people listen.

It’s so much more inspiring to hear someone tell you they want to go to space than it is to hear someone say they’re a hairdresser (though if that’s your passion, there’s nothing wrong with that!).If you’re reading this, then there’s a good chance you’re in the internet marketing industry. Let’s say you are for now. You might have a plan to launch a website, sell an ebook, make some money. There are two ways you go about that.

One is the cynical way. The way where your heart isn’t in it. The way that you see time and time again. This approach involves looking for the hottest new ‘niche’ in the market. Whether or not that’s a niche you’re interested in doesn’t really matter. Then you buy some content, maybe hire someone to write some, maybe pump out a little yourself by just regurgitating what you already can find online.

Then, you lace into that content as much SEO as you possibly can. You do everything you can to make the site sell. You cover it in ads. You call it something like ‘The Best Fitness Site Ever’. And you wait for the cash to roll in. But that will not work. Why? Because there’s no passion. If you have a site about animal welfare and you hire the very best writer in the world to write for it.

If you tell them to write you the latest, most exciting, newest content then you still won’t do well. Why? Because they aren’t you. They can’t speak for you. They don’t know your point of view. And they probably don’t know the topic all that well either.So, they’ll do their research. Learn it thoroughly and try to write something great. But it will be safe. Generic, boring content. People will visit the site and they’ll see that.

The site has no personality. No tone of its own. No ‘mission statement’ or purpose. There is no passion or love behind it and so no community grows behind it. The site dies. That’s why the thousands of low quality sites never make it big.Think of the sites that do make it.

Those are sites like MOZ blog, like Tim Ferriss’ Four Hour Blog, like Pat Fynn’s Smart Passive Income. The Verge. The BBC. Forbes.

These are sites that are written by passionate experts. They are sites that have unique, engaging and brilliant content. And unique, brilliant points of view that are unique to the brand. They have high production values, slick design, thriving YouTube channels.

Do you see the difference?

Think about the sites that you read on a daily basis. I bet they are either:

A) Large teams of enthusiastic professionals

OR

B) Single, passionate individuals

None of them will be spam designed to quickly make money. None of them will be ‘overly SEOed’. You can’t create amazing quality unless you are passionate about the topic. You have to love doing it. You need to put everything into it. You have to want to spend your free time writing articles, answering fan-mail and tweaking the logo. It mustn’t feel like a job.

If there isn’t a topic for a website you feel that way about, then being an internet marketer isn’t for you. You need to find what you are passionate about. Your calling. That is how you become Elon Musk and not ‘tired, overworked, stressed Dad who works himself to an early grave’. Do you see the difference? You can’t fake it. You have to love it.

Presenting the Image

But I know what you’re thinking: it’s all good and well having the dream and the vision but you also need the skill and you need that business persona. And it’s true. If you’re going to lead, inspire and get investments then you do need to learn to present yourself and you do need to learn to be taken seriously. And this is a skill that will help you in every other aspect of your life too.

So how do you go about it?

The simple place to start is with the realization that you are a brand. Your name is your own personal brand and just like any business brand, it is your job to protect that brand in a professional manner. You know how it is so important for a website to be correctly spelled, to have great design, to pay attention to even the smallest details? It’s the same thing with you.

You need to present yourself in a way that inspires confidence and trust. You need to make sure that every interaction that other people have with you is a positive one. You need to present the face of a service that people can trust. You need to gain the confidence that you know what you’re talking about. You do this to begin with by conducting yourself in a professional manner.

That means that you put in effort and hard work into everything you do. Whether it’s that boring 9-5 that you’re just ticking over with, or whether it is a client who is very much ‘small time’ in your eyes. If you don’t give them 100% of your attention, if you rush things or if you make a silly mistake, then that is a black mark against you. If you say you are going to get a piece of work in by a certain deadline, then you make sure you do that.

You never know where amazing opportunities might come from. And you never know what one interaction might lead to. If you deal with someone in a poor manner, or you do a sub-par job, then word might spread. If you do an excellent job, you just might get offered something. The same goes for any work that you put out with your name on it. Make sure it is excellent quality.

Next, you need to make sure that your presentation is perfect. That means learning to communicate. Learning to present yourself in a professional manner  I highly recommend getting classes to help you with public speaking and elocution. This will help you to get your point across in a way that other people understand. It will teach you to sell yourself, to thrive in interviews and to win clients and backers.

You also need to think about the small details of your appearance. How are your nails? How is your hair? Do you have a nice suit? Are you in good physical shape? All of this has been shown in countless studies to make a difference. People want to bet on the winning horse and if you look like you can barely keep yourself together, then why would anyone believe that you’re going to be able to run a business?

Sell a product? Provide a great service? Again, tiny things make the difference here: things like your shoes, how polished they are, how the laces are tied. Be constantly improving yourself and investing in you in order to make a better impression. Meditate. Get enough sleep. Have enough vitamins and minerals. Be ready to take those opportunities when they come.

Springboarding

And learn to see opportunities where you don’t expect them. Because it won’t always be obvious. Think of Sylvester Stallone who wanted to become a famous actor. He was turned down from all the acting jobs, so he eventually got there by writing a fantastic script for a movie. That movie was Rocky and he would only sell the script if he got the leading role.

The rest is history.

Opportunities might present themselves to you that don’t seem directly related to your goal. But adapt, learn to see the alternate routes. Because success in any area can lead to success in another. It builds confidence, it gives you connections and resources. This is called ‘springboarding’, where you use one ‘win’ to launch you to the next.

If you turn down an opportunity because it doesn’t seem to exactly match your plan, then you can end up missing out on something that could have been huge. Always be looking for that next move. Business is like a massive game of chess. And once again, this is why you always need to put your best foot forward. Making the right impression and protecting the brand opens those opportunities.

Keep your goal in mind, keep winning and keep taking that next step. Don’t let yourself become comfortable. And use the lessons from our other guides to get over your fear of risk and failure  to keep taking those chances. If you do all this, then you never know where your drive and your effort might take you. THAT is how you become a success in business.

source http://www.forcesalign.com/what-is-business-mindset/

[itsevidentvery]

This is an SV winter exchange gift for the incomparable @workplaceromance! I tried to write you a Jarrich epistolary romance, but could only manage it partway. Hope you enjoy anyway!

And a huge shout-out to the wonderful @carrot-gallery for organising this entire thing!

So without further ado:

[Richard Hendricks: 02:23 a.m.]

jAred

[Jared Dunn: 02:24 a.m.]

Hello Richard. Can I help you?

[missed call from Jared Dunn: 02:30 a.m.]

[Jared Dunn: 02:32 a.m.]

Richard, are you all right?

[missed call from Jared Dunn: 02:33 a.m.]

[Richard Hendricks: 02:36 a.m.]

hI

[Richard Hendricks: 02:36 a.m.]

yOu uP

[Richard Hendricks: 02:36 a.m.]

Bar

[missed call from Jared Dunn: 02:36 a.m.]

[Jared Dunn: 02:37 a.m.]

Richard, are you all right?

[missed call from Jared Dunn: 02:37 a.m.]

[Jared Dunn: 02:38 a.m.]

Richard, where are you?

[Richard Hendricks: 02:38 a.m.]

wasted

[Richard Hendricks: 02:38 a.m.]

wIsh you were HERE

[Jared Dunn: 02:38 a.m.]

Where are you?

[Richard Hendricks: 02:38 a.m.]

Come

[Richard Hendricks: 02:38 a.m.]

Here

[missed call from Jared Dunn: 02:38 a.m.]

[Jared Dunn: 02:39 a.m.]

Where are you?

[Jared Dunn: 02:39 a.m.]

I’ll come to you. Where are you?

[Richard Hendricks: 02:40 a.m.]

Come GEt me

[Richard Hendricks: 02:40 a.m.]

(Sent location)

[Jared Dunn: 02:41 a.m.]

Don’t go anywhere.

[Jared Dunn: 02:41 a.m.]

I’ve called a Lyft.

[Jared Dunn: 02:42 a.m.]

I’ll be there in 15 minutes.

[Richard Hendricks: 02:43 a.m.]

cOme heRe

[Jared Dunn: 02:43 a.m.]

On my way.

[Jared Dunn: 02:43 a.m.]

Have some water.

[Richard Hendricks: 02:44 a.m.]

(beer emoji)

(Martini glass emoji)

(champagne bottle emoji)

(eggplant emoji)

[Jared Dunn: 02:45 a.m.]

(smiley emoji)

[Jared Dunn: 02:45 a.m.]

I’m in the Lyft now.

[Richard Hendricks: 02:45 a.m.]

(eggplant emoji)

[Richard Hendricks: 02:46 a.m.]

thaNks

[Jared Dunn: 02:46 a.m.]

My pleasure.

[Richard Hendricks: 02:47 a.m.]

take me hOME

[Jared Dunn: 02:48 a.m.]

I will

[Jared Dunn: 02:48 a.m.]

Sit tight, Captain.

[Jared Dunn: 02:49 a.m.]

I’ll be there soon.

[Richard Hendricks: 02:53 a.m.]

Youre so good

[Richard Hendricks: 02:53 a.m.]

So fkng good

[Richard Hendricks: 02:54 a.m.]

I thiNK aBout you sometimes and

[Richard Hendricks: 02:55 a.m.]

Your eyes your hANds yuor voice and I want to bend yoU OVER SOMETHNIG sometisme

[Richard Hendricks: 02:55 a.m.]

Or you can bend me over whatevr

[Richard Hendricks: 02:56 a.m.]

fUCk I want to lick you

[Richard Hendricks: 02:56 a.m.]

What do yuO taste like

[Richard Hendricks: 02:57 a.m.]

Are you swEeT I bet yuo are

[Richard Hendricks: 02:57 a.m.]

do you taste of autumn

[Richard Hendricks: 02:58 a.m.]

What dO you look like when you cOMe

And then there’s a soft hand on Richard’s shoulder. Richard turns and blinks owlishly as his vision refocuses and Jared’s concerned face swims into view.

‘Richard?’

‘Jaaaaarrrreeeeeed’, says Richard. He’s feeling fine. ‘This guy – this gucking fuy – this fucking guy is my CFO! My – my – this guy fucks, he’s’ Richard hiccups, he only just now thought of this, this is so fucking good, ‘my Chief Fucking Officer!’

Jared smiles at Richard and calls over the bartender. Asks for a glass of water. Makes Richard drink it. Richard says ‘I can – anything for you, Jar’d’, tries to drink sensually and slops half the water over his shirt. Dabs at himself giggling while Jared calls for the bill and tries to get Richard to drink some more water. Richard says ‘I’ll drink ALL the water’ and chugs from the glass. He drinks too fast and some spills out his mouth, but Jared’s smiling warmly and saying ‘good’ as he pays the bill.

Jared insists on taking Richard home. Richard’s delighted to have him, especially when they have to make an emergency stop for Richard to heave his guts out by the side of the road, with Jared rubbing soothing circles along his back and murmuring something kind and supportive.

The next morning, Richard wakes up feeling like he’s died.

Correction: wishing that he’d died.

It feels like someone’s hollowed out his skull and replaced it with a dental cavity. And then stuck him in a wind tunnel at a fucking Slipknot concert. Any movement – any breath of air – has him whimpering pitifully.

He feels green. Like, all over. And too feeble to even attempt nausea.

His eyes drag themselves open. He swears he can feel his eyelids scraping against his cornea.

The movement exhausts him so much that he lies in bed panting.

Never again. He is never. Drinking. Again. It’s a miracle he even got home last night, which – how did he get home?

Oh – oh yeah. Jared. Jared brought him home. Well, at least he’d kept his wits about him that much. It was – smart – to get in touch with Jared. Jared would just – snap into action and, like, do what needed to be done, and, and, and he wouldn’t give Richard shit, or get Richard to give him a Board seat, which he has already anyway, but you know.

Jared’s good.

Jared’s so fucking good.

Wait.

Why are those words so horribly, horribly familiar?

Wait.

Wait.

Oh no.

Oh no.

Oh no no no no NO no no.

Oh fffffuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

Richard’s mouth hangs open in a silent scream.

He winches himself up and registers faintly that sheer panic has overwhelmed the hangover. He crawls to the foot of his bunk bed and sees his cell on his desk, laid out precisely perpendicular to the edge.

Jared’s doing.

Oh God, Jared’s doing.

He climbs down the ladder with shaking legs and makes his way to his desk. Wipes his sweaty palms down the side of his jeans and gingerly picks up the cell.

It’s – okay, maybe this won’t be so –

Richard takes a deep breath. Flicks to his messages.

Oh.

Oh, it’s worse.

Oh, it’s so much worse.

It’s a fucking – cornucopia – of creepy buried desires and feelings vomited onto the screen. And fucking drunk-spelled just enough to make him look illiterate, but not enough to confuse the unmistakeable, sexual-harassment-lawsuit-in-every-syllable intent.

It’s like the fucking…verbal equivalent of a dick pic with a grubby thumbnail in shot. Like, what even.

Richard drops the phone. And okay, he thinks he has the energy to throw up. So that’s….progress?

Richard stumbles out to the bathroom. And of course, because this is his life, he runs immediately into Jared.

Who is standing just outside Richard’s room with a tray. On which lies a sandwich, a cup of coffee and a pill.

Because Jared can’t, like, let Richard wallow in guilt and terror and self-loathing in peace. Or even wait till Richard’s got a little bit of his shit together. Enough to have upchucked, had a shower, crawled like a nanometer towards normal, changed into clean clothes, had something to eat that Richard thought to get for himself without Jared fucking anticipating his needs.

Jared doesn’t even have the decency to look, like, torn-up, or untidy, or even a little bit gross. I mean, yeah, he looks a little underslept – Richard dragged him out of bed and across town in the middle of the night, after all – but the dark circles only make his eyes look even bluer, like Jared’s giant Disney Princess eyes needed the help there.

Nooooo, Jared’s gotta, like, be aggressively kind and thoughtful and put-together and fucking unnecessarily perfect on this day of all days, when Richard’s feeling like something the Swamp Thing shat out after a cheese nightmare and fucking five days of indigestion.

And sent Jared graphic, misspelled, tragic, titanically inappropriate messages, let’s not forget that little detail.

After Jared rescued him from a bar.

Goddammit.

Goddammit.

He smells nice, too. Jared. Jared smells nice. Like he always smells nice but right now it seems cruel that he smells so crisp and clean and fresh and comforting and, and, and, and fucking lovely.

He probably does taste of autumn.

Fuck.

And God, it’s not like Richard ever thought he’d get to find out for himself, he’s not that optimistic, but Richard’s been, like, dealing as best he can with Jared’s hands and his wrists and his eyes and his soft voice and his naval metaphors and his fanatical but still frustratingly platonic devotion to Richard that makes Richard feel like a special kind of creep for the hot dark thoughts that come to him at night, the thoughts where one of those giant hands has wrapped around Richard’s neck and the other one’s around his cock, or where Jared’s staring at Richard over his shoulder with those huge blue eyes and moaning Richard’s name while Richard does something that even his imagination fritzes at shaping, or……

He’s been dealing with it. He has.

He has.

Well, he hasn’t jumped Jared or thrown up on him. Or, y’know, both. So. You know. Dealing with it.

But now Richard’s

1)      Gotten wasted at a bar

2)      And made his CFO – made Jared – come out in the middle of the fucking night to get him

3)      And sent him a billion texts outlining all his pathetic, stupid, ill-conceived, hung-up longings

a.       Texts which included the phrases ‘bend you over’ and ‘lick you’

‘Richard?’ Jared’s frowning in concern at Richard. Who has presumably been gawping at Jared like a murderer confronted by, like, the ghost of his latest victim.

Which he basically is.

A victim who has brought his murderer sandwiches because that’s just the kind of guy he is, so why not remind the murderer of just how entirely too good for, like, this entire sinful earth he is in general, and for the murderer in particular?

‘Richard, do you think you could try to eat something?’

Ah what the hell, why not. He’s gotta have something to throw up before, after or during the inevitable conversation where Jared gently reminds him of Pied Piper’s sexual harassment in the workplace policy.

Assuming Jared still wants to stay with Pied Piper.

Oh God.

What if –

Oh fuck.

Like, it’s not – he wouldn’t blame Jared. But ohshitohshitohshit.

‘Don’t leave’, he says on a rush, fist clenching around the sandwich – PBJ, presumably Jared knows that’s all Richard can handle right now.

Jared’s eyes widen. ‘Richard? Why would I – Richard, what’s wrong?’

‘I’m sorry’, says Richard, ‘I – fuck, I shouldn’t have – I shouldn’t have made you – woken you, made you – come to get me, and then – I shouldn’t – oh God, fuck, the texts, Jared, you have to know, I’m so - ’

‘Oh’, says Jared. And he goes pink. Richard thinks he looks unfairly pretty that way. ‘Yes. I was - ’ he coughs delicately, ‘I was planning to schedule a one-on-one with you about that. But – Richard, I think you should – why don’t you get some food inside you, and some water, and some coffee, and then we can talk?’

Richard sighs. It’s probably just postponing the inevitable, but what the hell.

He eats the sandwich. Keeps it down, even. He drinks coffee. He drinks water. Has a shower. Changes into a button-down and a sweater that he realises kinda-sorta matches Jared’s? Wonders whether to change. Doesn’t. Wonders why he chose that colour. Decides he’s not gonna think about it.

Accepts Jared’s calendar invitation for a ‘catch-up’. Tries not to hit his head on the table when he sees that Jared’s linked to the employee handbook with particular reference to the guidelines on creating a hostile workplace environment.

I know, Jared. I know.

Manages to get stuck far enough into debugging that he actually, sincerely jumps out of his skin when there’s a soft touch on his shoulder and Jared murmurs ‘Richard, our scheduled discussion.’

Richard blinks, and Jared immediately offers to reschedule if he’s caught Richard in the zone.

Richard contemplates taking him up on the offer, and then thinks better of it. Rip off the Band-Aid and all that.

‘No’, he says, and jerks his head to his bedroom. ‘Let’s – we’ll do it now.’

They head off to the room and shut the door behind them. Jared takes a seat opposite Richard, and smiles. And it is so obviously his HR smile, his establish-a-non-threatening-environment-prior-to-engaging-in-a-difficult-conversation-with-a-difficult-colleague smile, that Richard can feel his PBJ crawl up his throat.

‘Richard, how are you feeling?’

Richard scrubs his hands over his face. ‘Look. Jared. Can we – please can we just – get this over with?’

Jared purses his lips. ‘Richard, I need you to take this seriously. I’d like you to respect the process, please, we need to establish a protocol for future occurrences so that - ’

‘There won’t be future occurrences’, says Richard, desperately, ‘please, I, Jared, I’m sorry, all right, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what happened, I - ’

‘Well’, says Jared, ‘let’s find out what happened. Recall the words of George Santayana, Richard. ‘Those who do not remember the past are condemned to repeat it.’’

He nods earnestly at Richard, all help me help you. And goddammit, goddammit, goddammit.

Richard sighs. ‘I met old friends from Stanford. I got drunk. I got very very drunk.’

Jared nods. ‘Well, you texted me to come and get you instead of trying to drive while intoxicated. Which was very responsible of you, Richard, and I think you should give yourself credit for that. I’m also - ’ and the colour rises in his cheeks, ‘oh, Richard, I’m so honoured that you selected me to come for you. That you’d choose to trust me this way – to lay your sword on my shoulder and say ‘I am wounded in battle, but my ensign, my Lancelot, my trusted standard-bearer is come to bear me away’, I - ’ and his hand splays out over his chest. His eyes glisten.

Richard swallows. It – okay, so – I mean, trust Jared to be grateful for what anyone else would treat correctly as an incredible fucking imposition, but, like, if he’s – all dewy-eyed about being yanked out of bed in the middle of the night, then like has he…forgotten…..about the gross text messages, or…?

‘It – sure, Jared.’

Sure what? Like Richard agrees that he did Jared a fucking favour? Fucking…throw yourself into traffic, Richard Hendricks.

Jared sits up straight, sniffs and composes himself. ‘I’m sorry, Richard, I – I didn’t mean to – intrude my own preoccupations, it was selfish of me. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.’

‘No’, says Richard, ‘no, it – no.’

‘Well’, says Jared, his cheeks still delicately pink, fuck, ‘I would – thank you, Richard, it meant – it means – a lot to me.’

Richard can’t think of what to do or say, so he nods.

Jared squares his thin shoulders and looks grave. And here it comes. ‘Richard, there is one thing I would like to ensure does not happen again.’

Richard is nodding. Nodding and cringing.

‘The other text messages, Richard. The – explicit ones.’

Richard’s nodding picks up speed, yes, I know, Jared, no need to spin this out, can we just…

‘I don’t know if you’ve had the chance to look at the employee handbook excerpt I sent you…’

Richard hasn’t looked. He opened the attachment and wanted to die. Shut it. Opened it again. Wanted to die in a whole different way. Shut it again. Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

He shakes his head. Jared gives him a slightly reproving look – Richard winces – and goes on.

‘Well, Richard, we have – specific policies – preventing any speech or action or communication that can make your colleagues uncomfortable. Now, I understand that we weren’t in a workplace environment, and that I wasn’t meant to see those messages, and those are mitigating circumstances, but we should have a discussion about managing consumption of…alcohol, or…psychotropic substances? To make sure that it doesn’t happen again?’

Richard’s nodding so violently his head feels like it’ll fall off. Which. Might not be such a bad thing? But maybe, just maybe, this nightmarish conversation is coming to an end and somehow Jared seems to be taking it in stride that Richard came on to him and look at no point did Richard ever think that Jared was going to throw himself into Richard’s arms and like look shyly at him and whisper ‘Me too’ and use Richard’s bedroom to, to, to, to, for Richard to, or for Jared to, or like whisper in Richard’s ear ‘what do you taste of, Richard?’ and okay so maybe Richard was hoping just a little because like where would we be without hope and maybe Richard’s mildly disappointed/completely crushed that Jared’s just fucking briskly swatting aside Richard’s heartfelt and yes problematically harass-y declarations but mostly it looks like Jared’s not going to quit and he doesn’t hate Richard forever so that has to be a win.

Jared smiles at Richard, and there’s a little…strain?....in the smile. ‘But I’m – happy for you, Richard. Who’s the lucky lady?’

‘….Who’s what lucky lady?’

Jared blinks. ‘The messages, Richard. They were…’ and Jared’s pink again, ‘I’m sure it’s very…oh, I’m sure she’s exquisite, Richard, I’m very happy for you.’

Richard is staring at Jared, so hard he can feel his headache start up again. ‘…….What?’

Jared blushes deeper. ‘Of course, if you’re not comfortable discussing it, I completely understand, it was…impertinent…of me, but you see, Richard, this is the difficulty with bifurcating personal and professional relationships, this is why we need a policy in place to prevent this sort of…’

Richard lets Jared’s words wash over him.

Okay. O-kaaayyyy.

So. Jared thinks the texts were meant for someone else.

That does explain why he’s so chilled out about them. Relatively.

Okay.

Okay!

Okay, this is the out Richard wanted!

Richard lets out a noisy exhale of sheer relief. Jared looks at him, surprised.

Richard’s beaming at Jared like a loon. Fucking….heteronormativity, and Jared’s fucking ridiculous self-effacing modesty, to the rescue.

Goddamn.

Jared smiles back at Richard, uncertainly, and Richard’s stomach and heart do something very uncomfortable.

‘Richard? I – of course it doesn’t matter, since the recipient was only me, but -’

‘I trust you’, Richard blurts out. ‘I – with everything. That’s probably why I. I’m sorry, Jared, but that’s what happens when. People trust you. You. You find out. Things. That maybe you don’t wanna – I’m sorry.’

And Jared’s face is doing this thing, this terrifying wonderful thing. His eyes are, they’re bluer and bigger with every passing second, and he’s smiling like he’s found a whole new planet or something, and Richard can feel himself just….racing forward towards that smile, just with like empty pockets and a bucket, just trying to hold on to as much of it as he can before it vanishes, he can’t help it, he can’t –

‘The texts were meant for you.’

Welp. There it is.

Richard can’t even – he’s not gonna blame himself. He held it together as long as he could, and that smile, fuck, if the CIA knew about that smile he’d never see Jared again, they’d just keep him in like a cage like Weapon Fucking X and only let him out to unleash him on like terror suspects until they cracked and told him everything, everything, Jared probably collects like five declarations of undying love and twenty secrets on his way from his condo to his car, he probably thinks that’s how people say ‘Good morning’.

Jared’s staring at Richard. The smile’s vanished. ‘Richard?’

Richard swallows. Fidgets with the sleeve of his sweater. Is about to gnaw at his fingernails when Jared’s giant hand reaches out to gently capture his.

Oh God.

‘Richard?’ Jared’s looking earnestly at Richard. ‘What did you mean?’

Richard sighs. Manages to make eye contact for one entire second before his gaze falls. ‘The messages were – they were for you.’

When Richard risks a look up, he can see Jared’s lowered his own eyes. When he speaks, his voice is carefully calm. The voice he uses when he doesn’t want Richard to freak the fuck out. ‘Richard? I think we may need to have a different kind of discussion.’

Richard nods, miserably.

Jared takes in a breath. ‘Okay, we first need to establish – Richard, what was the nature of the reaction you were hoping for?’

What was Richard hoping for?

What was Richard hoping for?

Oh, hell no.

No no no no no no NO.

‘It – Jared, how can that – I’m sorry, you’re right, it’s – fucking – I’m really sorry, it was… seriously fucking not okay, and I’m really sorry, and it was my fault, and –’

‘I meant’, continues Jared, pinkly but firmly, ‘was this horsing around, or a – booty call, with - ’

‘I like you’, says Richard, because God help him he wants Jared desperately but nobody – nobody - wants to hear Jared Dunn say things like ‘booty call’. ‘I like you – fuck – I like you so fucking much, you’re so, with your, your eyes, and your hands, and your hair, and you’re so good so fucking good at fucking everything and you, you fix things, and you, you’re so fucking stupidly perfect and like I don’t even know why you’re still here but don’t leave Jared please I can, I can manage this, you’ll never hear about it again, I promise, Jared, I-’

Richard stops because Jared’s hand on his has tightened. He leans in to Richard and kisses him.

Gently.

The lightest, sweetest kiss, just….gracing Richard’s mouth. Just…showing him how those soft, full lips might feel.

A tease, really.

So Richard’s also not gonna blame himself for attacking Jared when he pulls away.

Or for scrambling onto Jared’s lap and nearly knocking them both to the floor.

Or for fisting his hands into Jared’s sweet-smelling hair.

Or for biting at that lush bottom lip.

Anyway, Richard’s vindicated when Jared takes control of the kiss, deepening it, spearing his fingers through Richard’s hair, chasing every atom of breath Richard has.

When they part, winded and staring at each other, Richard knows he’s grinning and thinks he’ll probably never stop. And Jared’s eyes are shining, so impossibly bright.

‘How long?’ breathes Jared, and Richard has to think for a moment before he realises what Jared means and shrugs helplessly.

‘I don’t – those messages? I’ve had…something like them….in my drafts folder for….I mean, they were nicer, like…not like….and they were like spelled properly and, and I was like asking you out or whatever and – they weren’t gross like those ones but….yeah. Months. Like – god, Jared, a year? At least? Longer, I think.’ He looks at Jared. ‘You?’

Jared laughs a little. ‘Oh, Richard. Always. The instant you walked away from Gavin, I knew.’

Richard’s brain short-circuits. ‘We could’ve been – we could’ve – for a year?’

A year’s worth of, of kissing, and, and looking, and touching and – oh God – permission to touch, and and saying things, and – every day they could have – every hour, every – oh, they have a lot to make up. Starting now.

Jared licks his lips and Richard groans, leaning forward. Jared puts his hand over Richard’s mouth, gently. ‘Richard, I – Richard, we should have a discussion about … the implications for the sexual harassment policy and workplace conduct, it would be - ’

Richard licks Jared’s palm, a wet, hungry sweep, and relishes his friend’s shudder. ‘I know, Jared, I know.’

‘Richard – Richard, darling, I’m serious, we have to outline protocols for – mmph!’

‘I know’, says Richard, against Jared’s mouth, ‘I do, I do, Jared, I’m listening, just-’

‘We’ll need to’, gasps Jared, wrenching his mouth away from Richard’s, ‘ensure that we have clauses in place protecting –  oh – the company, and – and us – from – oh Richard, darling, yes, like that – abuses, we - ’

‘Anything’, says Richard, ‘anything.’ He pulls off Jared’s long throat, bared just so for him. ‘You don’t – Jared, you don’t taste of autumn.’

Jared angles his head in unquestionable invitation for Richard to nibble and suck beneath his ear. ‘N- no?’

‘No’, says Richard, giddy with delight. ‘You – Jared, you taste of spring.’

[inkstainedfanfics]

Paths

Request: Can you do a little angsty Newt x reader (but maybe with a nice ending 😄) where Newt and the reader were a couple back at Hogwarts, but they broke up because of Leta. Now the reader's married and after many years with no contact they meet again at some kind of charity event. However, they start to bond again! I hope you like this idea and thanks in advance ❤

Word Count: 2,325

Pairing: Newt x Reader (Platonic)

Tag List: @dont-give-a-bother @red-roses-and-stories @caseoffics @myrtus-amongst-the-stars @ly--canthrope @whatinbenaddiction @thosefantasticbeast2 @studyforthreehands @benniesgalaxy

“You want me to take him to Gran’s today or do you plan on it?”

Quickly running a towel over the spot your toddler just sat at, you sigh. “You should probably plan on it. I have that event tonight, remember?”

He sticks two pieces of bread together. “Of course. You’ve only been talking about it for months now.”

You make at face at him, tossing the towel by the door to wash later. “We’re teaching kids about magical creatures. What’s not to be excited about?”

He chuckles. “Just don’t talk their ears off. I know how you can get when you’re given a captive audience.”

“I don’t get that longwinded.”

“Honey, did you forget our whole first date?”

You swat at his arm as you make your way to the sink. “You were interested and asking questions.”

“I believe,” he says, tightening his tie, “that I asked one question and you took it from there for the rest of the evening.”

Setting the plates in the sink and flipping the faucet on, you roll your eyes. “Yeah, well, look at where you are now. Married to me.”

He grins, stepping over and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Now go or you’ll be late and miss your train.”

He kisses you one final time before grabbing his sandwich and heading out the door.

You finish cleaning up the dishes from the kitchen before changing into a more fitting outfit for the demonstration: slacks and a button-down shirt. Sliding a jacket over the outfit, you shout a goodbye to the nanny and head out the front door.

It’s a long walk to the school, but the sun’s shining and the sidewalks are near empty, so you don’t particularly mind the jaunt. In fact, it’s almost refreshing to not have to worry about making lunches or helping the nanny fold clothes. Ever since the charity began and called for your expertise, you’ve been able to find an excuse to get out of the house once a week and work with magical creatures.

Finally reaching the school, you step in and are instantly offered directions to where the other volunteers have set up the day’s base.

You follow the directions and end up in a dank basement: unusual since most presentations are offered outside. Still, it’s a good storage place for the creatures and if any escape, it’d be easy enough to capture them, so you shrug and look around. Crates of creatures line the walls and more are being carried in as you wander the room, searching for Tara. A baby dragon hisses when you pass its box, mooncalves held in a pen snort in their sleep, and a couple of doxies penned up and trapped behind two locks mock you. The room’s a mess of other noises as well. You wonder how anyone can hear the day’s orders given the racket.

Tara, the lead supervisor and charity founder, brushes her black hair out of reach of a niffler and waves you over. “There you are. I was wondering if you were planning on coming. We could really use your help in the grindylow pen.” She rolls her eyes and wipes a layer of sweat from her forehead. “We have a bunch of new recruits, which would be great if they knew anything. Send the girl with Charles over to the flitterby cage. Maybe she’ll be able to handle that.”

“She can’t drop food into a tank?”

“Apparently he’s too scary.” She sighs, shaking her head. “I don’t know. Just make sure he doesn’t get out or grab anyone, okay?”

You glance around the room. She’s right, there’s a bunch of new faces around, wandering like they don’t know that they’re supposed to be working or playing with the cute creatures and ignoring the more aggressive ones. “Looks like it’s going to be a long day.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. Thank Merlin I have another expert like you coming in today. It’s the only reason I agreed to bring the full load of our creatures.” She stares behind you, suddenly alarmed. “Merlin’s beard, that girl’s going to get herself killed! Go help with Charles before we have a lawsuit on our hands.”

You turn, breaking into a run as soon as you see.

The grindylow’s somehow made its way out of the cage and is clinging to her arm, trying to pull her into the tank.

The open tank. Merlin’s beard, do these people know anything about creatures?

The beast opens its mouth, revealing a set of slimy green teeth, bits of algae stuck between them. The girl’s pale, mouth open in a wide ‘o’ but there’s no sound: too scared.

You know as you draw your wand that you won’t be fast enough, the thing’s going to get at least one chunk from her arm. Cursing, you try to speed up, try to lunge forward, but it’s going to be too late no matter what you do.

Which is why when the creature just freezes, teeth inches from her arm, you nearly stumble in surprise. It releases her arm and falls motionless back into the tank, sinking to the bottom.

You scramble forward, slamming the lid back on the tank and clamping the latches shut, chest heaving. Tara runs right past you and to the volunteer’s side, ushering her away.

“Are you all right, ma’am?”

Another pair of hands pull at the final latch before you can grab it, clicking it in place with ease. “Well, at least his teeth are tiny enough to risk such an incident.”

You freeze. That voice… you haven’t heard it in over ten years, but who forgets such a voice? “Newt?”

He smiles, a nervous grin that transports you back to the halls of Hogwarts, back to the statue of a witch and her patronus, back to shaky hands grabbing fallen books. “Hello.”

“Hey. What, um, what are you doing here?” The question is shaky. Merlin, have you really not seen him since the summer of fifth year?

“I was asked to come in and talk. A bit of an expert on these things now.” He smiles again and shrugs as though his recent accomplishments mean nothing.

“That’s right! You published a book, didn’t you?”

“I did, though it hasn’t sold much yet.”

“I’m sure sales will pick up soon enough. Who doesn’t want to learn about such fascinating beasts?”

Newt grimaces, “Unfortunately, I’ve found many people that don’t.”

“Well, that will change with this charity. Once people learn about how gentle most of these creatures here are, they won’t be able to resist wanting to learn more.”

“Let’s hope.” He mumbles before falling into an uncomfortable silence.

You grab the bag of algae the volunteer dropped and offer it to Newt. “His name is Charles.”

“Any reason for that?”

You blush, wondering if Newt remembers Charles Cooper from third year. “Well, he’s quite the ugly beast and he’s nasty, too, as you saw. He tries his best to bite everyone.” You hold out your hand, showing off the three scabs running across your thumb. “He got me the other day when I was trying to clean the cage.”

“Did you treat it with anything? Their bites are prone to infections.”

You draw your hand away when you notice his eyes linger on your fourth finger, on the ring-free skin between knuckles. Your wedding ring sits in your pocket so as to save it from being eaten by a creature. “Of course I did.”

Newt eyes you, surprised by your sudden defensive tone, and steps away, dropping some algae down the narrow feeding tube. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend.”

“No, it’s…” well, you don’t know what it is, but it’s certainly not like he meant to be rude, glancing at your hand like that. Of course he’d want to know. You’d found yourself curious about him for years after the split. Who doesn’t wonder what becomes of their first love? Of the person they shared an awkward first kiss with, of the person with clammy hands and a pounding heart, of the person you promised forever with only to have life laugh and plot another path for the both of you?

“I’m married.” You offer suddenly, blurting it out and instantly blushing. Oh Merlin, he wasn’t flirting or even showing any sort of nostalgia for what you once had, so why say that?

Newt’s face turns from solemn to flustered, his cheeks the same bright red as the day he bumped into you and spilled your books everywhere. “Oh. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” Then it’s quiet between the two of you as the various creatures’ noises swallow your conversation. The grindylow slowly wakes, nose twitching as the algae bobs in the water.

“When did you marry?” Newt asks, voice barely audible over the room’s din.

“Five years ago. Edmund came soon after.”

“You have a child?”

You nod. “He’s four. Blonde.” You can’t help your smile. “Absolutely precious. A bit stubborn like his father, but he loves demiguises. You should see him at night. I stitched him a plush of a demiguise. He refuses to sleep without it.”

Newt doesn’t meet your eyes, just stares at the creature in the tank. “Sounds lovely.”

“He is.” You swallow. There it is again, that uncomfortable silence so alien to you when it comes to Newt. The two of you used to be able to hold a conversation all night, now you can hardly look at him for more than two seconds. “How about you? Have you met someone?”

“I’ve been quite busy with my work, as you’d imagine.” He shuffles around the tank, but his expression indicates there’s more that he’s not saying.

“Oh, of course. How’s Leta?” It’s a risky probe into his life. You’d never really heard what happened between the two of them after you left him.

It’s apparently the wrong question. Newt snaps his mouth shut, eyes focused on the grindylow feeding.

“I’m… sorry.” You mutter, surprising yourself by truly meaning it. Right or not, Newt had adored her. She shouldn’t have hurt him the way she obviously did.

“That’s all in the past now. No need to dwell on it.”

“Newt…” You hesitate. Is now really the time for apologies? You’re surrounded by noisy creatures and clueless volunteers, speaking with your ex for the first time in ten years, and he hasn’t even brought up the things you said that day. Still, guilt rests on your shoulders. You’d not only broken up with him as his girlfriend, but as one of his best friends, too. So you steel yourself and square your shoulders. “I’m sorry for the things I said before. They were rude… unnecessary. I’ve regretted them every day since.”

He blinks, his only show of surprise, then something else fills his face. Comfort? Happiness? “I was being, as you put it, ‘a selfish git.’”

You wince remembering the way he’d looked after you’d shouted that at him. “I thought I was losing you. I didn’t mean it.”

“I know.”

“And I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you after everything happened.”

He flinches, hands fiddling with the button on his sleeve’s cuff. “I couldn’t blame you. Who wants to rush to their ex’s side?”

You bite your lip. Doesn’t he know he was more than that? You may not love him in the same way anymore—no, you’re quite happy in your marriage—but that doesn’t mean you don’t want him to be happy. “You were my best friend for a long time, Newt. Long before you were my boyfriend. I should have honored that.”

He shrugs, bending over to peer right in the grindylow’s eyes. “I wasn’t fully innocent for our loss, either.”

You start to deny it, but he’s right. You both made mistakes, both ruined what was a beautiful relationship. Instead, you shrug and smile. “Maybe I could make it up to you over dinner tonight. If you’d like, of course.”

“You’d like for me to meet your husband and child?”

You rub the back of your neck. “You were my best friend, Newt, and I miss you. So… yeah. If you wouldn’t mind.”

A smile fades onto his face, gently sloping up. “I’d love to.” Then, before you can say anything, he reaches for his pocket, withdrawing a worn picture. “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d love to introduce you to the Goldsteins sometime should you ever find yourself in New York.”

You take the picture to look at it. The way Newt hovers around the shorter one, his hands fluttering around her sides when she stumbles, clues you in. “I’d love to meet your fiancée.”

He smiles the slightest bit. “Of course you’d noticed.”

You hand it back to him. “You haven’t changed that much, Newt. I’m happy you found someone.”

His expression softens when he looks back at the picture. “So am I. She’s really something.”

“Would dinner at 5 work tonight? I’d love to hear more about her.”

He meets your eyes. “Quite well, actually.”

“Good.” You drift off, thinking back on just how different everything turned out from what you’d imagined when you were fifteen and in love with the man in front of you. Both of you now, set to be married to different people, a kid in your life, Newt a published author.

It’s all so different from the dream the two of you had concocted over Hogsmeade dates and Great Hall lunches: a cabin by the ocean, the perfect place for raising various creatures, maybe a kid maybe not, nights spent reading next to the fireplace, cooking breakfast for one another and traveling the world with your creatures. It’s all so different, yet, you know, it’s right. This was how it was meant to be all along.

The world has a way of working itself out, and you’re grateful for the path it chose for you.

[letscuttothefeeling]

season three episode seven

Welcome to the best episode of the season, brought to you by Clear Blue, the Mile-High Club, and Amazon Sunglasses. BOOP! Let’s cut to the feeling!

Nothing like sweating out a hangover! I love watching Juliette and Kelsey work out while I’m sitting on my couch eating cereal for no reason at 8 PM. This is doing wonders for my self-esteem. The friends start discussing the previous night at White Buffalo Saloon. After Alex and Juliette had that emotional convo outside and she left, they ended up talking on the phone for SIX HOURS. Six hours! I just want to know where Alyssa was while Romeo was telling Juliette he still loved her over the course of 360 minutes. Shout out to Kelsey for being a good friend and telling Juliette that Alex is “a bag of dog shit. On fire.”

The face your best friend makes when you confess that you’re talking to your ex. 

The only thing I hate more than lying is longboarding. And Amanda is guilty of both. Though she and Brandon may be moving fast on their weirdly oversized/emo skateboards, their relationship is slowing to a halt. Brandon starts quizzing Amanda about where she disappeared to last night, and she looks genuinely offended that he had the audacity to question her. Why is it that whenever people are guilty, they get so defensive? Any sociologists out there to give me their two cents? (Shout out Alex, for confusing psychology with sociology in episode five. Never change. <3)

This scene is already annoying me because Boring Robby, Jake, and Joe are setting up for the “Rebella” party. Number one, I thought we were done with Boring Robby – get off of my screen – and number two, as much as it pains me, I have to agree with Alex on one thing. Rebella looks like a complete and utter scam. And if I wasn’t so distracted by the beads covering Joe’s face, I’d report this to the Better Business Bureau as a potential money laundering cover-up. As Robby wonders if Juliette will show up, we cut to Juliette and Kelsey’s house. Kelsey, excited to get to the party to see her boss/love interest Jake, convinces Juliette to go. Nothing like showing up to your ex-boyfriend’s party two days after breaking up with him.

Why do people insist upon having tough convos over coffee in this show? First Juliette and her boss, then Robby and Amanda, and now this. As Madisson sits down with Chloe to grab lattes, things get serious quickly. Madisson is having a pregnancy scare! After tearfully confiding in Chloe, Madisson works up the nerve to get a test and Facetimes Dad “Baby” Ish to see the results. I’m sorry, but if my girlfriend randomly Facetimed me at work crying about potentially being with child, I’d be a little more emotive than Ish, who was apathetic about the whole situation. (Clearly, there’s a reason he was behind the camera and not in front of it.) After Madisson finally puts us all out of our misery and checks the test, we discover that she is not, in fact, carrying Ish’s spawn. Shocker! But now she’s forced to think about the reality of dating Old Man Ish since he’s an old man. Does she need to have kids sooner now since her boyfriend is practically in the grave? My head is spinning, I can’t think about this right now. Hopefully, that’s the only unwanted pregnancy of the season!

The Rebella party is in full swing, but instead of showing us the party, the producers have decided to show us forty-seven flashbacks, yet again. Can we please stop with those? They happen eight times an episode and eat up precious airtime. Like we KNOW what happened in the last episode, thanks. As Juliette and Boring Robby ignore each other, and Jake and Kelsey discuss their budding potential relationship, we get to see a glimpse of former cast member Carson! Who is now known to us as “Brandon’s friend.” Usually, the producers will bring on random people and then just never speak of them again, (shoutout Canvas, Tawni, Madisson’s sister, Pauly Paul, Ben, now VICTORIA, and many more) but this time, we get to see one. It’s kind of like seeing a ghost. Hi, Carson! You’re a brunette now! How are you doing? Where did you go? Are you okay?   

With no time for childish nonsense, Alex and Chloe are hammering out business details at the Crescent Club. While making a specialty mojito, Chloe sees a video of Juliette at the Rebella party. And once Alex hears she’s there, it’s game over. He becomes genuinely enraged and immediately fires off a text to Robby. Normally I would find his reaction hilarious since it proves that he’s desperately jealous, but the text he sent contains a screenshot of Juliette confessing her love to him earlier in the day, which is just embarrassing. Boring Robby, now would be a good time to start chanting inspirational quotes while you foam at the mouth and seize, you’re going to need them.

Earth-shattering. That’s how I would describe Boring Robby’s reaction to the texts from Alex. It’s reminiscent of that scene in Stephanie Meyer’s third novel in the Twilight Saga, Eclipse, when Bella accidentally lets it slip while ditching school with Jacob that she plans to become a vampire upon graduation. Jacob is shell-shocked. Although he knew this was looming, he had no idea it was happening so soon. I mean, not only would this break the treaty – remember, the Cullen clan is banned from not only killing, but also BITING any human – but this is also the girl who Jacob presumes to be the love of his life!! (Even though he hasn’t imprinted on her.) Before this show, I could only imagine his exact face when he found out Bella was going to become a filthy bloodsucker. (His words, not mine.) He even said he’d rather she be dead! Luckily, Robby’s face at this moment is all I need to visualize Jacob’s. After the soul-crushing texts, Robby runs up to Juliette to confront her. He accuses her of faking the entire relationship, then tries to prove it by asking Juliette to name her favorite moment or memory from their relationship. After Boring Robby waits in silence for a few seconds, Juliette responds, “SEX ON A PLANE! IS THAT WHAT YOU WANT TO HEAR?” Icon!

For the record, I know Jacob’s face during that shocking scene was portrayed by Taylor Lautner in the cinematic masterpiece Eclipse, but as a self-proclaimed Twilight expert, I felt that this real-life moment of Robby Hayes actually paid homage to Jacob’s raw emotion more accurately.

Back at the Kompothecras mansion, Alyssa, Gary, Alex, and Alex’s nameless mother are drinking at 10 AM. I stand by my hypothesis that Alyssa is trying to replace Alex’s mom and bang Gary. I can think of no other logical explanation as to why she keeps thudding around Alex’s parent’s house without a bra on. It’s funny that she has time to paint on a full face of makeup, but no time to cover her nipples. As they sit down for drinks, Alyssa immediately starts talking about how Juliette is trying to “weasel her way back in” and that “she needs to back off.” What’s that? Juliette, the girl who has dated Alex for 3+ years is trying to “weasel her way back in”? That’s great, coming from the girl who got pregnant after three months of NOT EVEN DATING ALEX. No yeah, um, that’s just, great. Good insight, Alyssa.

Since Alex was abroad for his birthday, he’s decided to throw a party for Jared. Even though I’m a little mad that Alex didn’t throw his annual banger, this party provided us with a lot of content, so I’m not going to pursue a lawsuit with Gary. Earlier in the episode, we learned that Jared is a divorcé! That’s right, when Jared was in the navy, he was married to someone and got divorced after a year. Young love. Even though he’s having a fun birthday party by the beach with all of his friends, he’s fixated on getting a call from his ex-wife. Finally, she calls and we learn that she’s coming to town next week. Interesting! As they hung up, they said “I love you” to each other, and then Jared got really emotional. Also interesting! We’ll learn more next week. Stay tuned!

As Alex and Alyssa hang all over each other, you can see Juliette seething behind her Chloe’s sunglasses. She decides to go confront Alex against literally everyone’s advice, and I’m already cringing. Juliette marches up to Alex and starts trying to get him to admit, on camera, that he said he still loved her over the phone. Alex blatantly denies it (even though it’s definitely true,) and then up comes Alyssa. She immediately starts berating Juliette, saying that she’s “crazy” and “false.” I’m just laughing at how naïve Alyssa is. Poor girl. She will soon become all too aware of what a manipulative liar Alex is. Okay, “manipulative liar” is a bit of an overstatement. That makes him sound intelligent. He’s just an asshole. Either way, I’m violently triggered by the idea of my liar ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend calling me psychotic and laughing in my face. So when Juliette pushes Alex in the pool and pulls down Alyssa’s bathing suit after Alyssa throws a drink at her, I’m not mad about it! As a final touch, Juliette hurls Chloe’s now crumpled sunglasses back at her, then, as everyone is trying to escort her away from the pool, she tugs down Alyssa’s bathing suit yet again, adding a final, “boop!” Pure class. Team Juliette for life. See you on the Key next week!

[amycathryn]

Embracing the Gift

Psychic.  What an intense word.

It can be an intimidating word to many of us who want to be more open and honest about our spiritual selves. When we're honest, we're being more vulnerable about ourselves—and couple that with a term that many fear and don't understand—coming out of the psychic closet can be scary!

In March of 2016 I came out of the psychic closet. It was very hard for me to finally admit I was psychic, but I always knew I was intuitive. Though, a psychic is just an intuitive embracing their gifts. Ever since I was a child I was aware I was empathic. Growing up, I used to be told I was "wise" for my age and an "old soul". I was an odd kid and kept mostly to myself because people were generally intense and draining. I always knew how my mother was feeling, and had prophetic dreams. I could feel the energy in a room, and could tell if a person was good or bad just by looking at them. I knew I had inherited these gifts from my mother's side of the family because mom told me she had been empathic too.

"A 'psychic' is just an intuitive embracing their gifts."  -- Me

It wasn't until a traumatic experience I had as a teenager that my gifts began to heighten and intensify to the point that I couldn't ignore them. I began to sense energy more and couldn't explain the voices I was hearing in my head. I was convinced I wasn't crazy, and that there was some sort of explanation for it. I could not find answers I needed in science or religion, so in order to find a reason for the things I was experiencing, I began to research more on the topic of spiritualism. From there I connected with people that started me down this spiritual path. However, it wasn't until decades later that I finally acknowledge my gifts were in fact, psychic.   

Stepping Out

When most people come out of the psychic closet, they don't do it to impress others or show off how special they are—they do it to allow their authentic selves to shine. Being more open about your spirituality is being more honest with yourself about who you are, and brings more respect (from your conscious self) to your craft because you are openly embracing it, versus hiding it out of fear of ridicule. Embracing your gifts releases that fear energy that will hold you back and allows you to shine brightly so you can help more people in the world.  

So repeat after me:  "I AM PSYCHIC!!!!!"  

The Pushback

There will always be pushback. It's just a fact of life—and not just with coming out of the psychic closet, either. Pushback happens whenever we expose ourselves to become more authentic in any way. We're going to get pushback from those who are not comfortable with that part of themselves, and they will naturally project this insecurity onto you. 

The fear of ridicule from my friends was what kept me from becoming openly psychic for the longest time. I had a lot of friends that were conservative Christians that were not as open to spiritualism as I was. I was worried my friends wouldn't want to talk to me anymore or start a confrontation. A few did unfriend me, and I had one or two people message me about it accusing me of witchcraft—but you want to know what I did? I meditated, I prayed and replied with love and light in my heart. I explained to them that what I did was not witchcraft, that I valued their friendship, and that we will just have to agree to disagree. No arguing. Simply understanding. The mature friends I had understood, and we respect each other's boundaries. For the immature friends, however, this was a great opportunity to distance myself from people that expected me to fit into their ideal of who they think I should be. 

In the end, we can't please everyone. We're not pizza. As adults, we must be capable of tolerating each other's differences. If your friends aren't mature enough to respect your differences—and boundaries—how can you trust them as friends? Likewise with family. Set boundaries with the people that disagree with you, and in turn, respect the boundaries of others. If you truly wish to be respected, you must respect yourself. You'll begin to find very quickly the friends and family you can speak about your spiritualism to, versus the ones who are not as open to it. 

On the same token, because many of my Christian friends aren't comfortable with what I do, I don't force the subject on them. They are fully aware of what I do, and I don't hide it. I am candid with them if they're interested in learning more, but I won't force a subject on them because I respect their boundaries. I don't rub it in their face because I care about our friendship—and feel that I can be a shining example of what I am by being loving and respectful. Being open about your gifts in a temperance of sorts—finding the right balance between being authentic, and respecting other people's boundaries.  

Fear Itself

"The only thing we have to fear is fear itself."  -- Franklin D. Roosevelt

Fear only begets more fear. Refraining from coming out of the psychic closet out of fear for one reason or another can greatly inhibit your spiritual growth. Fear is a powerful and negative energy, and if we allow it to be a motivator in our lives, it has a negative way of blocking us as spiritual beings. 

As a full-time graphic designer, I was afraid for the longest time that my co-workers would find out I was intuitive. I was afraid of being labeled a "weirdo" and ostracized—or worse, fired. I took reiki classes and did tarot readings on the side, so I was fearful of what my workplace thought. Then one day, I became fed up with this fear. I was almost disgusted with myself for inhibiting the growth of my spiritual craft because of what I had imagined others would think. One day, I decided to add my psychic abilities to my website and came out of the psychic closet to my husband and some close friends. 

Do you know what happened? Practically nothing. As I said earlier, I got some pushback from a friend or two, but that was it. Some of my co-workers (naturally) eventually found out, but it was no big deal because I didn't make it a big deal. The energy you project is the energy you manifest. 

We are no longer living in the 1600's, and burning people at the stake in the U.S. is fortunately considered a "taboo". Additionally, firing someone due to their spiritual beliefs (and believe it or not, Spiritualism is an actual religion) is grounds for a lawsuit. So, don't be afraid of persecution for your beliefs. Does this mean you should parade your gifts around to your co-workers and shout out to the world that you're psychic? I'll let you make that call. What I am saying, however, is don't live in fear, because that's a low-vibrating energy that you're manifesting. If you live in faith and peace, you manifest a more positive reality. So stop being afraid of what others will do/say/think!  

Love Your Gifts

For some people, this comes naturally when they learn to embrace their psychic gifts. With others, myself included, this was a much harder lesson to learn. For the longest time, I was afraid of my gifts. I grew up in a strict religious household thinking mediums, psychics, pagans, etc., were all bad. Even after I started learning tarot and did psychic readings, I was afraid of mediumship. I thought it was dangerous and bad. And yet, I started sensing people who've crossed over more and more. I started hearing voices more and more. It finally came to a point where I knew I needed to discipline my gifts—not run from them (I've watched enough Frozen to know how that works out—ha!). That is when I decided to take Carl Woodall's psychic development class. Taking his classes taught me how to embrace my mediumship gifts and see how there is absolutely nothing to fear at all when it comes to psychic gifts. I quickly learned that mediumship isn't evil or scary—and that I'm always in control.

You see, when you become a psychic and use your gifts for God, and to connect others with God and their God-given intuition, you are doing God's will. You are not only going in the right direction, but you are healing others. If your heart is aligned to this intent, then you can't "mess up". The only time when we "mess up" is when we say and do things from an ego-based standpoint. When you humble yourself and step out of the way, let God does the talking and the energy of your actions vibrates at a higher level.   

Where to Start?

When coming out of the psychic closet, start with telling the people who will support you the most. Hopefully, that will also be the people closest to you—if not, that's OK! Telling people that will support you builds confidence so you can muster up the courage to let others know. Also, you don't have to tell everyone—only those you feel the need to tell.

As you become more comfortable with embracing this aspect of yourself, join a support group. Find like-minded spiritual individuals and maybe even see if someone locally is hosting a psychic fair. Growing spiritually requires practice, meditation, and discipline. Don't be afraid to start expressing yourself more spiritually—as long as it's honest and from the heart. Sharing your spiritually-based thoughts and feelings is a way to be authentic. 

Lastly, gaining confidence in your intuitive gifts includes having self-respect. Don't discount or sell yourself short. Look at how other beginner psychics with a similar experience range charge (when you're first starting out) and go from there. As you gain experience, throw the comparisons out the window. The energy of the inflow from the readings will let you know when it's time to increase your prices. You'll just know. And even though it's hard coming from a designer with marketing experience, base the actions of your business on the energy flowing from it. I myself used to think that was a load of you-know-what, but as I did more and more readings for business owners, I found that the energy they emanated had everything to do with the successes they manifested within their own businesses. 

So go forth with confidence in yourself as a psychic to help bring this world into th light!

[trylonandperisphere]

Silent Retreat 2, Ch. 20

Hello!  So... fuck it, this fic is back.

Things went a little awry in 2016, to say the least, and the removal of this fic from AO3 (for reasons of me doing something wrong that I didn’t know was wrong and never got warning about) threw its progress off-kilter, and then there was the presidential elections, and well... you know.

So, joining back in on the story.  Just FYI, I kinda lost my betas along the way, so anything from now on is both unbetaed and maybe kind of weird from the shit year I was having.  But hey, I hope you enjoy it, anyway! :)  I give up on my perfectionism!  Here goes!

Also on ff.net and AO3.

Mostly it was blank.

Teo had pretty much forced me to take some Xanax. I didn't even know where he'd gotten it. I was so heavy, but I felt my tears slowing, and then he put me in the bed, and I slept.

Then the dreams came.

"I've made a terrible mistake."

"What have you done?"

I was back in that cot in the DYAD lab, and Delphine was crying. She had been tricked by Rachel and Kira was taken. I'd believed her then, her sincerity, her love. But in this dream, I wasn't sure. Could she be faking her sadness? Her tears were colours, whirling and blending. Some meant truth and some meant lies. I had to observe very carefully and figure out what was really going on before…

I was with Shay, curled up together in the house where we were staying. Despite having been appointed my monitor, she had taken my side. Unlike Delphine, I thought. Or had Delphine really wanted to mend things? And was there any way Shay could have been feeding information about me to someone, even while we were on the run? At night we sought solace in each other's arms. I let my body lead my actions, burying myself in each touch, each kiss. The feeling of her hands on my shoulders, her voice moaning my name, the clutch and tremble of her orgasm around my fingers were present, physical. She couldn't be faking all that, could she? I chose to give her a chance, because she had come clean to me, had suggested running. But underneath, I knew it was something else. I was running from the craziness my life had become, but also the fear, the doubt, the betrayal… and the chill of seeing the gaze of the woman I loved and not knowing if she honestly loved me, or the one thing I held most dear in my heart was a lie.

Suddenly it was morning, and Sarah was there, bursting into the room, waking us.

"They've got Sevvy and Kira," she shouted, both of them being children at the same time making perfect sense in my subconscious, somehow. "Get your shit together!" She started throwing things at me: clothes, papers, a familiar hunting rifle. Where had I seen it before, and why did it fill me with fear and shame? "We have to go!"

The dizzying world of a frantic dream, not knowing exactly what was going on except panic, and running… and Delphine was pulling me into a bed, and whispering "je t'aime, je t'adore" as she made love to me… and it was love, wasn't it? The steady depth of her gaze, the warmth of her voice, the way she'd dedicated herself to learning how to please me, after that first time when she'd fumbled with the actuality of having sex with a woman, being touched by slender fingers, herself.

"She's your monitor! Just because Paul can't act and Donnie was clueless doesn't mean she's being straight with you!" (Ha ha, my brain echoed dumbly, straight.) "She's smart, Cos, and she's higher up than any other monitor we've seen. She's in with Leekie, for God's sake!"

Was it fate, the way we fell into each other? Something vast yet concentrated and inexplicable about love? Or was it something rehearsed, practiced, studied until she could convince me utterly? Maybe even, sometimes, convince herself?

"I wish I didn't have to go, but I'll make it up to you after the conference."

"Ooh, Dr. Cormier. How are you going to do that?"

And with a kiss she was moving to get into her car. But this time she had Sevvy in her arms. He clung to her, and she kissed him softly on the temple as she put him into the car seat, its straps suddenly seeming like the unbreakable bonds of a trap, and as I glimpsed his face in the window as they drove away, it was filled with fear, and the knowledge that I had betrayed him.

I clawed my way out of the dream, moaning. I might have been shivering if my body didn't feel so leaden. No light shone through the window and there were no sounds save the raspings and calls of cicadas and crickets outside. My eyes rolled back behind my lids, and then I caught them and looked around me again. My bed at the boys' house. Was it safe? Was I alone?

I hauled myself up slowly and stumbled out the doorway. A faint light pulsed from the living room and I moved toward it. Michael was there, sitting in an armchair, the rifle across his lap. The television flickered and murmured in a low babble, as he faced resolutely away from it and toward the window.

I paused at the threshold. He turned and saw me.

"You got some sleep," he finally said, voice matter-of-fact, and my heart constricted again, wondering if he hated me now.

"Um, yeah," I managed, then cleared my throat. "Those pills, you know…" I didn't finish, and his eyes, dark-ringed by exhaustion, didn't move from my face or alter their steady, hooded gaze.

"Where are Sevvy and Teo?" I managed thickly, still a little wobbly on my legs.

"Our bedroom. Sleeping, thankfully, at least last I checked."

I nodded, turning on my heel, compelled to check on them, myself, but paused at the sound of his voice.

"Cos—"

His voice was tired, but maybe a bit gentler than before, and he'd used my nickname. I turned around, trying to read his expression in the gloom, the television light pulsing across his face in alternating harsh shadows and a dim glow.

"I can't imagine what it was like going through what you did," he said, "and I know your decisions were shaped by crazy circumstances. I just wish I had known, that you had told us, because I'm afraid for my son." I swallowed thickly.

"Yeah," I managed, "I know, I get that, now, but hindsight…" I took a breath, realizing I'd wrapped my arms around myself. "There's so much I could have done differently, but I can't change it now. And it's… it's hard, because there are no rational, scientific answers for all this. There was no way for me to research and test what I should do next, so all I could do was whatever felt right to me at the time. It's not an excuse; I know I fucked up, badly. And I can't be sure… How do I know what was beyond my control and what I could affect? I turned to spirituality because I had to accept things that happen that we don't know how to handle. I had to... stay strong, for my sisters, for everyone this fucked up… rolling boulder that was pushed before I was born had in its path; just to keep on living. I knew life was strange and full of seemingly random side trips, experimentations… even jumps in evolution that were both logical and completely out of chance. I tried my best to put it all in order in my mind. But, even though I'm a clone, I'm human. And when I realized having a child could be possible… when I saw you guys, my friends who I loved wanting a child so bad… maybe something primitive took over. Maybe it was my biology, or some psychological need to mean something other than being the freak who figured out how to save the other freaks like herself…" I choked on a sob, the first I really noticed in the series of them I'd been trying to control.

"Shit, I shouldn't say that. I'm so glad I was able to help my sisters, but… I still felt so isolated by my own… weirdness, or whatever. Maybe it was just… I needed to hope. Take a risk on something good, you know? A future." My words were tumbling out now, and I couldn't stop them, couldn't see his reactions through my screen of tears. "I wasn't honest and I was wrong for that. I thought I was protecting you, and my sisters, but I was also protecting myself. And I can't know that… if I'd told you everything at the beginning, would you have turned away, tried something else? Would Sevvy even exist?"

I stopped myself, panting, trying not to give in and curl into a little ball, give up. And now… a voice in my head said, did Delphine always mean well, as I hoped? As I thought, then doubted, thenbelieved again? Or was Sarah right? Were Delphine's intentions based on something scientific, some kind of desire for power, rather than love? Even worse, could they be based on financial gain, or some twisted set of morals she's had all this time, like Neolution or the Proletheanism?

But nobody can be that good an actress, I told myself.

But people can, I countered. People do it all the time, con and lie… and if anyone knew a con, how to let people believe what they wanted to believe all along, that would be Sarah.

I barely noticed Michael had risen as I struggled in the tangled web of my thoughts, but suddenly he was before me. I only saw him from the chest down, my gaze vaguely focused on the floor.

"Cosima," he said, and he didn't move too close, but he did put a hand on my shoulder. I looked up at him in fear and despair and desperation trembling on the edge of hope. "It's obviously difficult for you, and has been for some time." His fingers patted in an unconscious rhythm on my shoulder, more like he was thinking than a reassuring squeeze. He paused for a moment, his usually kind, calm eyes looking disappointed, maybe a bit lost. He sighed, looked down, then back into my eyes.

"I did some searching — with your laptop, since that's supposed to be safe. I remembered vaguely hearing about the lawsuit against DYAD, how they had experimented on some women and children. I had a buddy of mine I used to work with. He's the kind of guy who's always reading those sites about cryptids, aliens, government plots and whatnot. We used to joke about it. I always just thought it was his form of entertainment, like horror movies, that he wasn't serious about it. But apparently it's more than a hobby, because he still keeps up on all the conspiracy theories. He, uh, he had seen some stuff, some rumours and reports. Some of them seemed ludicrous… most of them. But some added up."

Now he squeezed my shoulder, lightly.

"The thing is, I'm at a disadvantage. I don't know anything, or who to trust. So I need you to look me in the eye and say you'll do whatever you can — whatever it takes to keep our family safe. Tell me if your… sisters are real and they can help us. Because I will; I'll do whatever it takes. Understand?"

I knew what he meant, underneath it all. He cared about me, wanted to trust me, but if keeping Savvy safe meant sending me away from our son, he would.

"Yes," I answered through a ragged breath, "whatever it takes. He is my first priority, always. And I believe in my sisters. If you knew the things they'd gone through—" I paused, not wanting to alarm him more, make it worse. "They're so strong, smart and incredible. They have kids themselves, so they know what matters most. If anyone can help us, it's them. I trust them with my life."

He stared at me a moment, searchingly, and then his face and shoulders relaxed just the tiniest bit.

"Okay," he said, and it looked like he might say something else, but Teo's voice sounded softly behind me.

"¿Mi amor?"

I turned my head to see him, watching us both with all the concern that his great depth of heart allowed.

"We were talking," Michael told him, and I turned back to see his expression now matching his voice: worried, but steadfast, grounded, his characteristic ability to remain calm seeping back into him. "Cos tells me that we can trust her sisters, they'll help us. She says they're resourceful."

My stomach eased its frantic churn. I stepped back so I could look at them both, and Teo came forward and put a hand on each of our shoulders, connecting us.

"I believe her," Teo said. "I know this all feels like a… some crazy nightmare, but we've seen her sister Mika, and pictures of some of the others; it all comes together. We need to come together, too, because we are more than friends, we're a family. Sevvy belongs to all of us, no matter what. However it happens that he gets into trouble, we've got to protect him." He pressed on both of our shoulders, until we were in a circle, arms around one another in a hug of truce and bittersweet love. I felt Michael lose some of the awkwardness, the stiffness with which he'd been carrying himself melting, and we all leaned our foreheads against each other in the embrace. As we did this I found myself exhaling a deep sigh of release, feeling like we could at last all work together to fix this situation.

And as I let go of some of that tension, thoughts of my other love came to the forefront of my mind, and I felt so scared and tired. Would I ever hear from her again? I wanted to believe so, but after an all too brief foray into trust, our love also felt bittersweet, once again.

[fimflamfilosophy]

Ah, I see. Parody songs about FNAF and Undertale are illegal, but Mentally Advanced Series and Rainbow Dash Presents are not because you are a True Fan™ and your love for this Hasbro franchise is genuine and thus not in the same legal standing as any other fan content creator.

No, anon. It’s because fair use doesn’t protect “parody”, it protects your right to be critical of someone else’s intellectual property. It relies on a four factor test..1. The purpose and character of the use2. The nature of the work3. The amount and substantiality of the portion used in relation to the work as a whole4. The effect of the use on the market or potential market for the original work.In the case of MAS, the purpose is to juxtapose MLP’s cheery disposition with a more cynical world where corruption and taxes are real and present. It exaggerates the characters’ flaws while downplaying their ideal virtues. The nature of the work is commentary. It’s based around things the show has said and things that have been presented. I never did say, “lol what if Sweetiebelle was a robot wouldn’t that be random”. No. The reason I depicted Sweetiebelle as an eldritch monster was because the story of the CMC is to paradoxically blend in by standing out. They want their special unique talent so they can be like everyone else. They want to be NORMAL, MAGICAL PONIES..MAS is an ongoing series, which is risky, but each episode is brief compared to the show, and they are intended to mock specific individual episodes of the show. It would be MUCH easier to write fully original material, but it isn’t what I do..MAS is not fully self-contained; our jokes make more sense if you watch the show. It’s not targeted at the core demographic MLP is aimed at either. MAS is written specifically for bronies - adults that watch the show. And while there have been episodes in MLP that act as shout-outs to bronies, MLP will never be written to ruin itself with bureaucracy or to juxtapose itself with adult themes like sex, taxes, death, or scandal. I’m not trying to fight for a piece of their pie, I’m not trying to write lore for them or replace their show..Now I’m not a lawyer, so I can’t provide an airtight justification for myself, but this is why MAS is okay as I understand. It’s what I try to do, and it’s what I think about when I write new episodes..But let’s look at a song Griffinilla wrote:https://youtu.be/MVWqhYn3TIc

.The “Napstablook Song (Undertale)”. It’s a song that describes Napstablook, a character from Undertale. The purpose of the song is to entertain fans of the game by singing about Napstablook. Maybe Griffin has a four-point defense laid out for this, but probably not. Maybe you could argue it’s educational, but I think most judges could be persuaded to believe the only reason “Napstablook Song (Undertale)” exists is to capture some of the market that’s interested in Undertale products, the copy-written character, Napstablook, and his theme song. Is it hurting Toby, who owns the character? Probably not..But if you made a “Darth Vader (Star Wars)” song, you can imagine how it might agitate a lawyer. You can’t just make a song about Darth Vader and call it “Darth Vader (Star Wars)” - even if it describes Darth Vader’s outfit - unless it’s cool with whoever owns that copyright. Napstablook isn’t less protected on paper than Darth Vader..Toby hasn’t sent a C&D and nor has Toby expressed much interest in hunting people down. That doesn’t mean that other artists should do what Griffin is doing. In fact, I’d recommend you be very careful if doing what MAS does, because you have to understand that there are still risks and a lawsuit could still occur. It’s not my IP. If Hasbro felt threatened by me, I could get a letter. It’s how that is..Doing work related to or in commentary of someone else’s IP is like rolling the dice. You might be fine doing it for a while, but if you stake everything on it and you roll snake eyes, it’s better if you were at least trying to follow and understand the rules. If your defense is strong enough, you may just get a summary judgement in your favor. If it’s too weak, then you have to settle or go to court. If it’s as weak as “I made a song describing Darth Vader and named it ‘Darth Vader (Star Wars)’,” then maybe it’s going to be a summary judgement in favor of the person who sues you. I think for a lot of his work, Griffin just doesn’t have a defense. The Youtube algorithm LOVES this type of thing and promotes it up and down, but it is SO illegal were it to matter..Most fans are fine to make fan art, and fan songs, and to do tributes to their favorite stuff. But gosh, once you start thinking about success, business, money, and building something real, you shouldn’t want to be as far on the wrong side of the tracks as that.