#I do not like talking about how I spent the weekend writing slash fic
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pro tip for my fellow remedial human behaviour students: you have to wag back. in humans this means, when they say "how was your weekend" and you say "fine" and they say "do anything fun?" and you say "not really" and they say "isn't it cold today?" and you say "I guess", you are not making small talk. you are refusing to make small talk. you are rejecting their friendly overtures. you are supposed to ask them questions in return. give them something to work with, not empty non-responses. "How are you doing?" "I'm good thanks, how are you? Did you see the rain we had this morning?" and now you're both wagging and everyone feels reassured and connected.
I know this is the Anti Small Talk Website but small talk is one of the most effective social glues out there for getting to know people and forming friendships with them.
When I was just starting out at a job right after college I had a coworker who I thought was the nicest person alive and after a few weeks I realized this was just because she consistently asked other people things like, "How ya doing? Whatcha having for lunch? Got any weekend plans? Seen any good movies lately?" instead of politely ignoring everyone around her.
#I actually do not prefer big talk#small talk is specifically for situations#where I do not want to have big talks#and probably not even medium talk#l like talking about the weather with my colleagues#I do not like talking about how I spent the weekend writing slash fic#I think that's only medium talk but that's for friends#not for work or a light chat with the barista#small talk is how you maintain a warm and friendly relationship that is also distant#small talk is a privacy setting
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The Eighth
Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader
Genre: Fluff
Warnings: None, this is a fluff-only zone!
Word Count: 2.3k
Plot: Reader has been in the BAU for one year and a lot has changed, especially her relationship with a certain genius. (Part 1 here!)
Author's Note: Seriously, I wasn't expecting my first two fics to blow up like that. Just, thank you to everyone who read them ♡♡♡
As for this one... I had to write a Part 2, basically as an excuse for me to write good things about everybody in the BAU and go wild with the backstories hahaha I hope you enjoy!
Masterlist
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Under the dim lighting of the BAU jet, your pen paused on the small book beneath it, causing a small blotch of ink to seep through its pages. The words usually flowed out of you without inhibition, but today was different, and frankly, you were feeling a little overwhelmed.
You didn't think the team would remember this, but today marked exactly one year since you joined the BAU. As if the universe were smiling down on you, the week also turned out to be a great one - or at least, as good as it could get around here.
The team had just closed a challenging case with minimal casualties, everyone had been ordered to have a long weekend off, and the person you most wanted to spend it with was dozing off beside you without a care in the world. Of course, he didn’t know about your feelings... yet.
Closing your journal, you gave up on writing as your eyes wandered restlessly toward your sleeping teammates.
Your eyes crinkled into a smile when your gaze landed on Hotch. This was the first time you’d seen him actually asleep on the jet, and in your opinion, he deserved whatever rest he could get. Since you joined the team, you had seen the man endure countless late nights in the office. Something you had quickly attributed to the missing wedding ring on his finger.
Yet, he remained a stalwart to the team. He constantly checked in with everybody, shielded the team from messy politics, and even managed to crack the occasional joke. Of course, he was still stoic most of the time, and you weren’t exactly sure if he was capable of blinking, but now you knew the warmth and care he possessed too.
Then there was Rossi, who had defied all your initial expectations. You had thought a celebrity like him to be gracious, maybe a little egoistic, but he was straight forward and meticulous to a fault. Still, it seemed he couldn't escape his nature as a performer, as he shone the brightest in the interrogation room.
The day you first witnessed him in action, your jaw had dropped to the floor, and he never stopped bringing it up in jest. He always joked that he didn't know whether you or the unsub was more shocked, but after that day, he also took the time to mentor you in the craft. You liked to think he was proud of how quickly you were able to put it into practice.
Your eyes wandered to Emily, sleeping soundly in the next seat. With Penelope and JJ’s busy schedules, she had taken on the role of showing you the ropes, and you had become fast friends. Turns out, the both of you were eerily similar: competitive, quick thinkers who never backed down from a challenge.
Unfortunately this meant you were never paired together on cases, but you did have an ongoing chess tournament slash drinking game. The chess was your idea, the drinking was Emily’s, and you were currently winning, much to your obvious pride and the rest of the team's amusement.
The person you actually got paired with the most was Derek; effectively fulfilling the fantasies of many women you knew. But as it turned out, the two of you made a damn good team. His calculated disposition combined with your breadth of knowledge - only rivalled by the good doctor - made you an extremely effective duo, and Hotch picked up on it immediately.
You being younger than him by a few years, Derek made it a point to check in with you often, and in turn, allowing you to glimpse at his pensive, empathetic, and insightful sides. He had become a big brother to you, and you like a sister. A bond that proved to be a strong one, across the many cases you tackled together.
You smiled to yourself, eyes landing on Penelope and JJ, dozing off together under a bright pink, knitted blanket whose ownership was in no doubt. It was rare that the tech analyst came along on cases, but she was always a welcomed presence for everybody involved.
Amidst the sea of gruesome cases sent to the BAU, you had come to look forward to Penny's witty banter, either over the phone or in person. The image of her colourful outfits and her outrageously decorated office were enough to make you believe in a light at the end of any tunnel.
It reminded you of your first case, an extraordinarily challenging one that the team managed to unravel in the nick of time. When you arrived back at the BAU, Penelope was the one to drag you out to celebrate. Little did you know, the rest of the team had also gathered at the bar with party poppers and birthday cake. When you found out that Penny had planned everything, you knew you had earned a friend for life.
As you smiled at the memory, JJ shuffled in her sleep and your attention was drawn to her sleeping figure. You didn’t know how she could look so perfect even when she was asleep. But then again, you’d come to realise that there was very little she couldn’t do.
You had already been friends with the communications liaison, but working with her in the BAU was a completely different beast. Of all the chaotic personalities in the BAU, only JJ had a hold over every single one. She was able to apply the same to the local police and media, and still meet the victim's families with the utmost grace and empathy.
During her brief window of absence when Henry was born, things just weren't the same. You liked Jordan, and you knew she always gave her best, but there was an unmistakable sigh of relief when JJ was back. And although she never asked for it, you and Penelope did everything you could to give her and Will a break from their newborn, including regular movie nights in with baby Henry.
Last but not least, the one that you couldn't forget even if you tried, Dr. Spencer Reid. You had joined the BAU because of him, you realised now. But what began as professional interest, had quickly developed into a full blown crush on your co-worker.
You realised this fact on an absolutely unremarkable day, except for the fact that your heart skipped a beat when Spencer walked into the office that morning. He wasn't wearing anything out of the ordinary, his usual combination of sweater vest and shirt, but when he smiled at you, your face flushed visibly and you wanted to melt into your chair in embarrassment.
If the genius had noticed it, he didn't let it show. But Derek most certainly did. Every chance he got that day, he teased you about your newfound crush on "pretty boy", and soon the news made it to everyone's ears. Emily not in the least, as she used the knowledge to win several chess games, much to your annoyance.
And still, Spencer remained oblivious. Despite how often you sat starry eyed listening to him explain a completely random fact. Despite how many weekends you spent together bonding over your shared interests in Star Trek and Doctor Who. Despite the fact that the seat next to him on the plane was basically reserved for you. You didn't think he knew, because he never made a move.
That's why you decided last week. The next time the team had a long weekend off, you would ask Spencer out on a date. You just didn't think it would happen so soon.
Midway through your thought, Spencer groaned in the seat next to you. His hands lifted to move his hair away from his face, and you resisted the urge to do it for him.
"Are we there yet?" He asked, rubbing his eyes tiredly.
You felt your heartbeat quicken at his voice, gravelly and soft, not fully back to reality just yet.
"No, not yet," you answered back in a whisper. "It's only 3AM. We have about two hours to go."
"Why aren't you asleep?" He asked. His head leaned back onto the headrest, but this time, his face turned towards yours. The two of you were far too close to each other for this to be work appropriate.
"Just thinking." You tapped the cover of your book with your pen in explanation, trying to look anywhere but at him. Spencer hummed in acknowledgement, the sound driving you wild. Then he did something you could have never expected.
"Hey," he began, pulling your gaze to meet his hazel eyes, "happy one year at the BAU." His lips formed a small smile, sleepy but genuine.
"You remembered?" You couldn't fight the wide smile that made its way onto your face, nor the glee that spilled out of your voice.
"Of course. Eidetic memory, remember?" He joked, gesturing at his head. Maybe it was the lack of sleep talking, but you felt like you were on the verge of tears.
"Thank you. Really."
"Hey, hey, hey, don't cry." Spencer said, suddenly sitting upright. He leaned forward as if to touch your cheek, but his fingers lingered in the air in between you awkwardly.
You brought your own fingers to your face, realising that you were, in fact, crying. A small laugh escaped your lips at the absurdity of it all.
"No, no, I'm alright, Spencer. Just overwhelmed, I suppose." You tried explaining, gently wiping the tears from your face.
"Why?" He asked, his voice laced with concern.
“I didn’t expect anyone to remember it, that’s all.” You said, feeling a little ashamed now, but your words seemed to light a fire in the doctor’s eyes.
“Well, whoever forgot it must be stupid because you’ve made a difference in the lives of every single person on this jet.” He said in an uncharacteristic huff.
This was your chance, you realised.
“Hey, Spencer,” you said after a pause, biting your lip nervously, “what difference did I make in your life?”
Spencer looked as if he had been caught, his eyes instantly darted to the seat behind you, his fingers twitching. You tightened your grip on your pen, willing yourself not to collapse from the anticipation.
“Of course, I-I mean, many things can’t be quantified due to its subjective nature, but you did change my life."
"Like?" You pressed on.
"You gave me something to look forward to everyday." He said, his eyes lifting to meet yours. You felt your heart soar a hundred stories above the ground.
"Really?" You were in disbelief, your voice barely a whisper.
"Really. You're... you're intelligent, beautiful, and you open my mind to new things every day. I feel like you understand me in ways the rest can't, and you’re the person I want to tell everything to. There’s nobody else but you.” He blurted out in a single breath, as if he'd lose the words if he waited any longer.
Your eyes threatened to spill tears again, but you blinked them back, preparing to say what you wanted to say to him long ago.
"Spencer... I like you. Like, romantically like you." You whispered, your eyes barely able to meet his. His eyes were wide open, his eyes glancing briefly at your lips.
And in a moment of pure bravery, as he explained later, he placed his hand over yours and squeezed. "Me too. I like you, romantically."
Long after that, he would tell you that he'd never seen you smile so widely before, and he instantly knew that he wanted to be the reason you smiled that way all the time. But in the moment, he just laced his fingers with yours.
You squeezed his hand back. Feeling calmed by his warm touch, you leaned closer to him. You still had one question on your mind.
"Did you know that I liked you?"
"I figured it out eventually. Last month." He said sheepishly. "But I've had feelings for you since a month after you joined the team." His cheeks turned a light pink at the confession.
"You know what? Me too." You blushed, leaning against his shoulder.
“Another thing we have in common now,” he said, resting his head on yours.
You weren’t willing to let him go now that you had him, and luckily, it seemed like he had the same idea, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you close.
The two of you fell into slumber easily, not even realising it when the jet had landed back in Virginia.
It didn't take long for the rest of the team to realise the interesting sight in front of them, but not even Penelope's high-pitched squeal managed to wake you up.
In the end, it was JJ who decided to end your unknowing humiliation by shaking the two of you gently. You and Spencer jolted awake, immediately taking in the various smirks and grins from your team in front of you.
"Ok, that's enough guys." Hotch announced. You noticed the small smile on his face before he turned around to leave the jet.
The team - mostly Emily and Penelope - looked as if they wanted to enjoy the sight for a little longer, but at Hotch's word, decided they would leave the teasing till later.
"That's not exactly how I imagined telling the team," Spencer said, when the two of you were finally alone. He ran his fingers through his hair in an action of mild distress, but you noticed the smile that was still glued to his face.
You leaned over to give him a kiss on the cheek, enjoying the blush it left behind. "Well, that means less time with them, and more time with you," you teased.
Spencer picked up his bag and offered his hand to you. "I'm counting on it," he said, smiling widely.
You took his hand, your gaze trailing up his wrinkled shirt to his messy brown hair, finally landing on his earnest eyes. Of all the times in the past year you got to be the BAU's Eighth. This moment had got to be the best.
#mads fics#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid#dr spencer reid#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fluff#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfic#cm fic#cm fanfic#bau#aaron hotchner#hotch#derek morgan#emily prentiss#david rossi#jennifer jareau#penelope garcia#criminal minds
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Distraction part 1
This is a mini series that is Scott x Reader. And before you ask, yes I am still writing the Stiles Sis Fic series the next part will be out relatively soon. I've been busy planning out the later seasons so I could make sure to time everything correctly. Anyways, for more of my writing here is my Masterlist.
Friday
It started as a normal day, you woke up and prepared for school. It was not long before your phone lit up with messages from your boyfriend. It was something along the line of ‘Good morning beautiful’ ‘I can’t wait to see you at school’ ‘I love you’. Every message caused the smile on your face to grow. You loved Scott. He was the guy who had seen you at your worst but would only talk about you at your best. He had a unique ability to make everything better. It was like as long as the two of you were together, nothing could ever stand in your way.
You were about to leave your house when your phone buzzed again. This time the text was from Lydia. ‘Ready for this weekend?’ she sent. ‘Totally, my bags are already in the car’ you replied. You, Allison, and Lydia were going to leave right after the Lacrosse game and go up to one of her family’s cabins. She had decided that you were in need of mandatory girl time. After all, you hadn’t spent much time together with all of the supernatural chaos.
It was a normal school day. You were greeted by Scott and Stiles. You sat through all of your classes, met up with Lydia at lunch, and talked to Scott during your shared free period. After school was over you hung out with Scott until he had to start getting ready for his game.
“I wish you didn’t have to go with Lydia” he pouted jokingly.
“It’s not that big of a deal Scott I’ll be back Sunday night,” you replied.
“I know but that is two whole days without you,” he answered.
“Exactly, it’s two days” you laughed, “You’ll be fine” you added.
“We can text, right?” Scott asked.
“Well as much as I would love to, Lydia would kill me, and there is no signal up there anyways,” you answered.
“This is about to be the longest 48 hours of my life,” Scott groaned.
You rolled your eyes, “It’s a good opportunity to have some bro time with Stiles, maybe you can finally watch Star Wars,” you remarked as you started to get up.
“Not so fast,” Scott said as he pulled you back down onto his bed and kissed you.
“Scott” *kiss* “I” *kiss* “Love” *kiss* “you, but” *kiss* “we have” *kiss* “to go” *kiss* you managed to say before he pulled away. You tried to look away from him knowing you were blushing hard. “Good luck tonight, not that you’ll need it. I love you and I’ll see you Sunday if not before then,” you said hugging him.
“I love you too Y/n, I’ll see you at the game,” he returned.
You went to Lydia’s house and went through the plan one last time. She went through a checklist to make sure that neither you nor Allison had forgotten anything. After that, it was time for the three of you to go to the game.
You watched the game and cheered for both Scott and Stiles. The team won 5-3. You were getting ready to go when Allison realized that she forgot to put her bag in Lydia’s car. Lydia was going to take her back and grab the bag. You decided to use the time to catch your boyfriend before leaving. You were weaving through the crowd when someone’s hand went over your mouth. “Nighty Night Y/n,” you heard an eerily familiar voice before feeling a pinch in your neck and seeing everything fade to black.
‘Hey Lyds, I’m really sorry but my mom called. She’s in the hospital. It’s not serious, but I’m staying here with her.’
Lydia text you back, ‘Do you want us to come with you, we can reschedule’
‘No don’t do that. Go have fun. We can hang out next weekend’
‘Are you sure? It’s not that big of a deal,’ she replied.
‘Don’t worry Lydia, it’s fine, just enjoy yourselves, I’ll see you Monday’
‘Okay, see you Monday’ She answered as she and Allison started to leave.
“What’s up?” Allison asked.
“Something came up and Y/n can’t come with us,” Lydia answered.
“Awe, that’s too bad, you still want to go?” Allison questioned.
“Of course, let’s do this, phones off” she replied, turning off her own phone.
Scott was dragged to a party with Stiles. It was for a friend of Stiles’, Heather. Scott didn’t really want to go, he couldn’t get drunk and he wouldn’t know anyone other than Stiles. But Stiles had insisted that it would make the time without you and Lydia more bearable. As Stiles entered he was greeted with a passionate kiss from none other than the birthday girl herself. He was quickly whisked away to the wine cellar. Scott reluctantly moved into the living room, grabbed a drink, and pulled out his phone. He smiled as he saw he had a text from you. ‘Hey babe, I’m leaving with the girls, turning my phone off now. Love you, see you Sunday!’
That was the last text sent before your phone was shut off and thrown in the dumpster behind the school. “That will buy me some time,” your kidnapper replied before driving away with you unconscious in the back seat.
Saturday
The day started off pretty normally for Scott. He went to text you before he remembered that you wouldn’t have service. He was glad that you were able to get away and relax with the girls. He had decided to go to the field with Stiles to practice Lacrosse. But he couldn’t shake a gut feeling that something was wrong. Stiles explained to Scott that there was a body found and that he was waiting on his dad to see if it was anything supernatural. Scott couldn’t help but be slightly uninterested. He was tired of death and the supernatural world, he was just a kid, and for once he wanted to act like it. Scott stared out the window of Roscoe, and wondered what you were doing right now.
........
You woke up and were caught completely off guard. It was dark and you were sitting knee-deep in water. There was a light above you. You must have been in a well. But you couldn’t remember how you would have got here. You went to reach for your aching head and realized that your hands were bound. You tried standing up splashing the water around which sent a shiver through your body. You wondered how long you had been missing. You weren’t that worried though, you were supposed to be with Lydia and Allison. They wouldn’t have left without you. And once Scott found out, he’d come for you. But then again, you were trapped in water, which meant he’d have a hard time following your scent. And you didn’t know how long you’d already been down here. You started to worry, trying to break your hands free so you could attempt to climb the wall. But that would take hours.
Meanwhile:
Scott and Stiles were at Stiles' house about to start their movie marathon when Stiles got a text. “Woah dude, you remember that body they found earlier?” Stiles asked, rereading the message in disbelief.
“Yeah, what about it?” Scott asked, wishing he could have one night off.
“It wasn’t just your average dead body. There was a significant blow to the head, his throat was slashed, and he was strangled by a garrote,” Stiles explained.
“Okay Stiles, but that doesn’t exactly sound supernatural, can’t we let the police handle this one?” Scott tried.
“Yeah I guess, but talk about overkill,” he answered, though he was planning on looking into it more after his best friend went home. Nothing was ever as it seemed in Beacon Hills, and he’d be damned if he wasn’t prepared for the worst-case scenario.
The two of them ate pizza and started to watch the first movie, however it wasn’t long after Scott finished eating that he fell asleep. Stiles took this time to do research on the latest murder.
Later that night:
You had finally managed to unbind your hands after what felt like hours of scraping them against the brick. You wanted to climb up the wall but it was now so dark that you could barely see your hand in front of your face. You decided that it would have to wait until morning. You sat back in the cold water, trying to find a safe position to sit in. The water was so cold. Your throat was sore from the screaming you had done earlier. You started crying as you realized the severity of your situation. You could die down here. You were going to die down here if someone didn’t find you soon. You thought about Scott. The only comfort that you felt was in knowing that he was out there looking for you. After a while, you drifted out of consciousness.
#scott mccall series#scottxreader#scott mccall x reader#scott x reader#scott mccall imagines#scott mccall imagine#teen wolf x reader#teen wolf imagines#teenwolf imagine#teen wolf imagine#teenwolf imagines#teen wolf series#teenwolf#teen wolf
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Wicked Game
Another round of the 5sos fic writing collab brought to you by @maluminspace and @h0tsos. There are so many amazing writers involved and I highly recommend checking out the event master list linked below. Thank you to the Sagittarius sorceress @sexgodashton for being very caring, patient, and kind while helping me tame this monster. Massive shout out to @ghostofmashton for the photo edits, especially Ashton’s eye. that’s my favorite. You’re a rock star. Texas girls forever, love you to bits!
Event Master List
Prompt: Chef AU with Cashton
Dialogue Prompt: “Kissing you is all I’ve thought about since the moment we met” First person to spot it in the fic and send me a screenshot gets a personalized blurb request.
Word Count: 20K+ Team Long Winded Bitch strikes again, this will be posted in multiple parts over the next couple of days. This first part is about 5K
Rating: 18+ Slash fic Strong language, alcohol and drug use, and a misogynistic and racist comment. Sexual scenes including masturbation, toys, voyeurism, oral, and anal sex.
Summary: Ashton is ready to move on with his life after his painful divorce from Luke and the demise of the restaurant they’d built together. With the help of his protegee and sous chef Hima Singh, Ashton is ready to take on opening weekend of his new restaurant Anne-Marie’s. Calum is a reporter filling in on an assignment and is surprised when his past comes back to haunt him. Hima arranges an interview that takes an unexpected turn between the two men.
Part 1
"Great job, guys, we couldn't have had a better opening weekend. Thank you so much for making it happen," Ashton told the two staff members in the kitchen who'd closed as he unlocked the back door.
"No problem boss, glad to be here. We made money this weekend. See ya tomorrow," DeSean told him as he left.
Ashton locked the door behind them and walked out into the empty dining room, his steel-toed boots echoing heavily on the distressed blonde faux hardwood floors. He stopped to adjust a few tables, double-checking sightlines and looking over the layout of the tables. The upside-down chair legs cast long shadows in the soft pink neon glow.
He looked up at the sign above the bar that read "Anne-Marie's." He smiled, not caring if anyone thought it was cheesy to name his restaurant after his mother. His mom had always been his lucky star, and he couldn't have gotten through the last couple of years without her.
"You look so serious,' a voice behind him startled him out of his thoughts.
"What the fuck Hima," Ashton yelped, clutching his chest dramatically. "I thought you were still in the kitchen."
"The guys didn't leave me anything to do so I decided to change and have a drink with you before my brother gets here," she tossed her bag and chef's coat onto a stool grinning at Ashton. She hopped up to sit on the bar before swinging her legs around as she pushed off. Landing without a wobble she reached under the bar and grabbed a bottle of black label Bushmill's Irish Whiskey and two short glasses.
"Straight for the good stuff, I like the way you think," Ashton smirked, taking a seat at the bar.
"To simply mark the occasion, of course" she poured them each a shot before adding a splash of water. She raised her glass, "Cheers to you, Boss, and to Anne-Marie's."
They clinked glasses. "Couldn't have done it without you," he replied before taking a sip.
"Awwwwww thanks Ashtton, " she grinned at him. "Damn that's good, the whiskey makes me forgive the Irish for how dreadful Guinness is. Did you see Kevin Mackie snuck in last night? I expect a write up in the Metro on Tuesday and I know you saw Patricia Bennett," she rolled her eyes at the name.
"She makes herself hard to miss," he snorted. "I missed Mackie though. Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because we were busy and I didn't have time for you to get all giggly and nervous. He got the crab puffs and the Mac and Brie and inhaled them. You were right about the nutmeg; I thought he was going to lick the plate." She opened two bottles of beer before hopping back over the bar and taking a seat next to Ashton.
"How did this weekend compare to the opening of ‘Lune Rouge’? Was it as good as the first time?" Hima finished her whiskey before shaking a pack of Camel Crush cigarettes out of her bag.
"If you get ashes on the bar Paloma will flip her shit," Ashton warned.
"I'm not afraid of her," Hima snipped, but she made sure to be careful. No sense in antagonizing their temperamental main bartender.
"This opening was definitely smoother than the first one. We didn't know what the hell we were doing. The first night we ran out of duck fat and gorgonzola before the dinner rush was over. My sous chef's sister had to run to Whole Foods for emergency supplies. We got lucky the press ignored us for a couple weeks until we got a little buzz going. This time I knew what to expect but there was also more pressure," he paused, taking a pull on the bottle of beer. "This time I expected to succeed right out of the gate."
"You succeeded there," Hima stubbed her cigarette out in her empty glass. "I really need to quit."
"You could get a puff bar and start vaping," he teased.
"I'm not a fucking junior varsity cheerleader. I can take my cancer like a big girl." She checked her phone. "Ugh it's almost nine, and it's gonna take me at least thirty minutes to get home. You're closing tomorrow with me right?"
"Yeah, I'll be in around 11 all this week. Rafi is handling brunch with Gloria but I want to be here," Ashton double-checked his phone. "Tuesday I have that interview with Men's Life and they just emailed me."
Hima saw his nose scrunch up as he read. "What's wrong?"
"I thought they were sending Taj, but instead of rescheduling the interview, they're sending Calum Hood," Ashton sneered.
"Chill dude, it's not that bad," Hima was confused by the venom in his voice. "Yeah he's a bit of a goof, but he's hot and not a pretentious dickhead. They could've sent Felipe."
"True, true," he grumbled as he saw a black Honda pull up outside. "Kabir is here."
"Shit, ok see you tomorrow, Boss," she grabbed her stuff, gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, and ran out the door, locking it behind her.
Ashton walked through once again. He made sure the lights were off in the employee lounge. Since many of his staff members used public transport or worked two jobs, Rafi had convinced Ashton to provide his staff with a decent place to take a break and get ready before or after work. He built a small shower stall, lockers, and provided clean towels, and as his new kitchen manager, Rafi took responsibility for maintaining the space. Ashton took a last look at the bar, double-checking for any stray ashes Hima might have missed before setting the alarm, locking up, and heading home.
Calum opened the email from his editor and swore loud enough to wake the scruffy brown terrier mix snoozing at his feet.
Hey Cal,
Sorry it's such short notice but Taj's mom had an emergency and I need you to cover for him. He's interviewing Ashton Irwin, remember him? He had the Lune Rouge a few years ago. Well, he's got a new place, diverse staff and we're doing a feature. Maybe even the cover if he's really pretty. Tuesday at 2 pm I'll send you the address and details after I talk to Taj. Oh, and my friend Nick is coming into town and I told him you'd show him around. It's been a while since you had a date but you'll like him. He's kinda short, but he's got big muscles, huge dick, perfect credit. You could do a lot worse.
Call me tomorrow
Sham
This isn't good, this isn't good. Calum's mind was racing. He rubbed his temples trying to think. Taj was notoriously reliable and responsible, so if he was taking off on short notice, it must be serious. It was just his bad luck it was Ashton Irwin.
He usually covered travel and sports for Men's Life while Taj handled food and fashion. Calum didn't mind taking back food and dining for the time being. He'd started in that industry, working as a line cook while he went to school for journalism. He'd quit both when a flirty, older professor recommended him for an internship at California Culture and he managed to land a real job. Professor Davis had been highly disappointed to lose him as a student and catch him making out with her son who went to the same college. He'd found a tiny shitty apartment, spent his life on the road for work, and sent every penny he didn't need to live on to his family. He didn't even date for the longest time until he met a handsome blonde with sharp features and a sharper tongue.
He couldn't remember if it was four years ago or five, but he clearly recalled his review of Lune Rouge had not been nice. Calum was in a toxic relationship with the restaurant's sous chef at the time. He'd let his personal life spill over into his work for the first and only time. It wasn't something Calum was proud of and while he felt he owed Ashton an apology, the right time and place hadn't presented itself yet. He'd run into Ashton twice since then. The first time he was with his husband, and Calum wasn't about to humble himself in front of Luke. The second encounter came not long after their marriage broke up. Calum was dating a photographer at the time, when Ashton came to the photographer’s art show. They were briefly introduced but Ashton's chilly demeanor discouraged any further conversation, so Calum avoided him the rest of the evening. He remembered being unable to stop staring at the handsome chef with the sad eyes. He'd always hoped they'd bump into each other under better circumstances. I guess an interview will have to do.
********
Ashton sat out on his condo balcony overlooking Echo Park, taking in the night air and enjoying a second bottle of IPA. Hima was right, the opening had been a smash. Anne-Marie's had the best staff he'd ever had the pleasure of working with, and aside from a small mix up between gruyere and Havarti cheese, the opening had been smooth. The alcohol hummed in his veins as he allowed his mind to wander back five years.
Lune Rouge's opening had been a chaotic mess of brilliance, balls, and blind luck. He was a year out of culinary school, newly married, and ecstatically in love with his husband. Luke was a trust fund baby; his dad ran a major studio. He put up the funding for their restaurant which procured a prime spot in trendy West Hollywood. Ashton had the idea of taking traditional French cuisine and turning it into "pub grub." Luke created a kitschy tacky cool interior with the ambiance of fairy light curtains, vintage 90's movie posters, an eye-popping pink and aqua come scheme. Featuring a bartender who doubled as a DJ, the restaurant became an immediate hot spot.
The culinary press treated them like rock stars and it went to their head. Ashton was portrayed as the mysterious boy genius, boisterous and foul-mouthed, he ran the back of the house, oversaw the business and created the menu. Luke, who's blonde-haired blue-eyed good looks were regularly described as "angelic", was the frontman, often schmoozing in the dining room, taking song requests, or slinging drinks behind the bar. They worked so well together until they didn't.
Ashton shook his head, not allowing himself to linger on negative thoughts, not when he'd fought to regain balance. He'd spent the last year freeing himself from the wreckage of his partnership with Luke. Still, tonight after the opening, alone and overlooking the city lights, his mind kept going back to the exhilaration of that first opening night. After they stayed late with the crew for a drink to celebrate, Luke's hand wandered up Ashton's thigh causing him to almost choke on his tequila. Soon Luke started whining about all the paperwork he had to do before they could go home. The crew quickly bagged it out of there, not wanting to get roped into more work.
Ashton swallowed at the memory before glancing around at the other balconies. It was late enough most of his neighbors should be asleep. Already hard, he reached down and squeezed his bulge through the thin fabric of his pajama pants.
After letting everyone else out of Lune Rouge that first night he'd been puzzled to find Luke no longer at the bar. He heard noises coming from the office. When he opened the door, he found his husband, shirtless, and waiting for him.
Ashton slid his hand into his pants swiping his thumb across the leaking tip. He heard a sliding glass door open and froze in place until he realized it was his neighbor below him chatting on the phone. He stroked himself and let his mind wander back to Luke. It had been too long since Ashton got laid, and Luke was still the best sex he'd ever had. He shuddered and bit his lip thinking about the way Luke grinned at him as he opened the office door. Before Ashton could say a word, Luke was sinking to his knees. A bit awkward given his long legs, but it didn't take long before he was letting Ashton fuck his throat. The thought of those blue eyes looking up at him as Ash's hands tangled in those blonde curls caused a moan to slip out, and his neighbor stopped talking at the sound.
"I think somebody is having sex," he heard her whisper. He almost laughed.
His dick was twitching flat against his stomach as he ducked back inside his bedroom, kicked off his pants, and grabbed a small tube of lube. Ashton shut off the light and stepped back outside.
The breeze cooled his fevered skin as he stood there looking out at the city and stroking his dick. The idea that he could possibly be seen turned him on almost as much as his trip down memory lane. He swallowed another moan thinking about how Luke's lips felt against his, their tongues tangled until he pulled back looking at Ashton with mischief and love before giving him a wink and turning around.
Ashton's breath caught in his throat as he worked his cock thinking about it. The red and white striped pants his husband pranced around in that night had been blissful torment working him up until the moment he slid those pants down and bent over the desk.
"Come take what's yours, my love, I've been wanting you all night," he cooed, wiggling his hips.
Luke was a whiny boy when he was getting pounded, and the memory sent Ashton closer to the edge. He felt his knees tremble as he increased his speed, the city lights becoming starbursts in his vision as he edged himself closer. At the moment of release, he swore he could feel Luke pushing back against him taking him in as deep as he could go.
When Ashton opened his eyes, he found himself sweaty and streaked with his own seed. He was amazed he'd managed to stay quiet, but his neighbor was chatting away obliviously. He went back inside, cracked another beer, and took it with him into the shower, trying to focus on his day tomorrow.
It was after midnight by the time he went to bed. His body was exhausted but the adrenaline from the opening weekend hadn't quite worn off. He found himself still restless and playing on his phone. After scrolling through Instagram, he found himself looking at the page belonging to the Galway Grill-- Ashton cringed at the name-- an Irish pub and microbrewery very recently opened by Luke and his boyfriend Finn.
Ashton simmered with resentment perusing the menu; they'd recycled at least half of the Lune Rouge recipes, his creations. He'd heard they'd rushed their opening to launch the week before Anne-Marie's, and even with Daddy's deep pockets the decor looked slapped together, all flash no class. He came to a picture of the happy couple and couldn't help but notice how thin and tired Luke looked despite his huge smile. He felt a twinge of concern for his ex before pushing his phone away in disgust. Rolling out of bed, he headed to the bathroom and fished an orange prescription bottle out of the cabinet. He broke a valium in half and swallowed the smaller piece with a gulp of water straight from the faucet. He scrolled through different sounds on his phone before settling on crashing waves. He spent the next ten minutes stretching and practicing deep breathing to push out any lingering negativity and troubling thoughts. It was too late to drag up the past and there was nothing to be gained. Ashton crawled back under the duvet and sank into a deep sleep dreaming of blue eyes.
*********
Hima rolled into work a little after one, pleased to see a decent lunch crowd and multiple delivery orders going out. She ordered a chicken mojito wrap for her lunch and headed back to the office to find Ashton. She found him in his chair with his laptop open on his desk, a notebook in his lap while scrolling through his phone.
"So what's the Monday morning report, Boss?" She asked, taking a seat across from him.
Ashton was beaming as he spun the laptop around to show her. "We made 30% over our projected sales. We came in right at payroll, actually a little under if you can believe that."
"I've checked the reservation book," she responded, flashing her phone. "We're booked solid for dinner Friday and Saturday and will call is 3 pm-7 pm. We're probably going to have to do that all week."
"Whatever you need. This weekend is going to be bonkers. If you have any suggestions, I'd like to do something for the staff. That reminds me, I've got to talk to Maisie." He scribbled down a quick note.
"She's already on it," Hima laughed. "The servers who struggled are coming in for extra training with her and Dakota. I have no doubt she'll straighten them up or ship them out."
Ashton nodded as Daniel knocked on the office door to bring their lunch.
"How's it going out there? Let us know if you need anything," Ashton told him.
"We've got this, Boss, enjoy your lunch," Daniel closed the door behind him.
"He's Rafi's brother?" Hima asked before taking a big bite.
"Cousin, Gloria is his sister," Ashton replied tucking into his roasted corn and quinoa salad with queso fresco.
"Are you ready for this interview tomorrow? You look tired," Hima looked concerned.
"I am tired," he shrugged. "I just wanna get this over with. I'm thrilled we're doing so well, but that's not what the press wants to talk about."
"Don't think about it like that. Anne-Marie's will stand on her own. You've just gotta get through this week. I know it's a lot," her words were half-muffled by a napkin.
"Tomorrow is the worst of it. Mackie called and is available Tuesday at one or Thursday for dinner around four. Since he's already been here for dinner, I thought I'd let Rafi wow him this time," he told her.
"Good idea, try to keep it short because if he drinks he gets super chatty. He gave a lecture at school and came to the bar afterward; he would not shut up," she warned.
"Chatty bastard, got it," he replied and they both laughed.
Anne-Marie's was his restaurant, but he couldn't have done it without Hima. She was fresh out of culinary school working as a line cook at the Hilton when he'd discovered her a little over a year ago. Ashton only lasted four months before chafing under the corporate yoke and deciding to strike out on his own. She'd been the first person he'd hired for the restaurant, guaranteeing her first year's salary out of his own pocket. Rafi and DeSean were excellent managers for the kitchen, but Hima was a coach: she understood the business as a whole. He'd let her handle most of the press and promotion, and she'd scored two big interviews.
Gourmet Table had interviewed him last Thursday The piece wouldn't be that in-depth, but they'd spent three hours photographing food. He expected the Men's Life article to focus more on him and his personal life. Calum Hood was known for his sharp pen and take-no-prisoners style. He'd given Lune Rouge two stars and a biting review during a brief stint at California Culture before he'd become known. It was five years ago, but Ashton still had the clipping somewhere. Calum had branded Lune's food as tasty and imaginative but thought the presentation was lacking in creativity. He'd ripped into the decor, calling it "somewhere between art house and frat house," and labeled Luke and Ashton "spoiled pretty boys pretending to be chefs." Luke had brushed it off with a laugh, but it still bothered Ashton.
Unlike the Hemmings’, Ashton’s family didn't have money to throw around. He'd started at sixteen, washing dishes and peeling vegetables for Chef François at Bordeaux on Hollywood. He'd taken culinary classes after high school while working full time. Sadly, Chef François had a heart attack and retired around the time he met Luke.
"You're not listening again," Hima complained, licking her fingers. "Rafi killed it with this wrap. The chicken is amazing, but the cucumber-mint salad and the tamarind chili mayo are next fucking level."
"You're right, I'm not. Sorry about that," he pushed his plate aside.
"Ok, what's got you so rattled? You've handled the press like a champ up until now. Is it Mackie or Hood? Who needs to catch these hands?" Hima stood and assumed a fighter's stance, bouncing on her toes.
"Easy there killer, I can defend my own honor. Mackie is an irritating little mosquito. He just wants gossip, but he's got enough readers so we all have to kiss his ass. Hood gave me one of the few bad reviews we got at Lune, and it stuck. He called us frat boys and said we were trying too hard," Ashton rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed by saying it out loud.
Hima raised her eyebrows and smirked, "I love it when you're petty. You're always so perfect and Zen, it's annoying."
"My therapist would disagree. Oh shit, that reminds me," he straightened up in his chair and grabbed his phone. "I've got an appointment at 2:30. I'll be back before 4," he dropped his eyes to the floor.
"Ashton," her voice was soft but commanding, and he looked up. "I don't know what's going on, and if you don't want to tell me that's fine. I want you to take care of yourself, whatever that takes. Ok?" He nodded and she smiled, "You can tell Dr. Claire that I've confirmed her for 8 pm Saturday, and you're going to personally cook her dinner. We've got the 50th anniversary that night so maybe you could flex and make your Pavlova's? I'll get the berries myself."
"It's a deal; we can comp them champagne, too. I'd better get going before I get yelled at. She's a stickler for punctuality, I think it's a British thing."
"I'll hold things down until you get back," Hima gathered up the dishes and headed out with Ashton right behind her.
*********
Ashton drew a deep breath and exhaled through his nose as the reporter settled in the chair across from him. Kevin Mackie's column in L.A. Metro was the definitive opinion for restaurants on the West Coast. His readers loved the snarky tone, celeb sightings, and bitchy gossip that peppered his column. His reviews could make or break new restaurants.
"Let me start off by saying I love the decor of this place. It's rustic, but not in that played out, hipster-in-the-woods nonsense," he leaned in and lowered his voice towards the end of the comment with a coy smirk.
"You'll find no Mason jars here," Ashton replied, taking the bait. Kevin liked people who liked him, and his most recent column was a snarky takedown of "Pinterest style interiors." Ashton found the article tedious and uninspired, but there was no need to be antagonistic right out of the gate.
Ashton watched as the reporter ordered his lunch from their server Zia. He guessed Kevin to be in his forties, and he thought he could see fresh hair plugs, bleached blonde, and a bit of Botox. Rumor had it, he'd recently split with his long-time girlfriend over a fling with a much younger waiter. Ashton tried not to pay attention to industry gossip. However, his personal problems made their way into the column more than once, and he couldn't help but feel the tiniest bit of satisfaction at the other man's problems.
After they'd both ordered, Kevin sat back and took a sip of his Pellegrino water and smacked his lips. "I was here the other night and I have to admit I was prepared to be underwhelmed. A menu based on sandwiches and comfort food sounded like an upscale Applebee's, but I really liked it despite myself. I was surprised to see your main girl was on the mature side, but she's efficient as hell so I get the trade-off."
Ashton's body tensed at the insult to Maisie, and he took a deep breath. Exhaling through his nose he forced a smile that didn't reach his eyes. Kevin was prattling on with some bit of gossip as Ashton sipped on his iced coffee.
"So let's start with something simple and ease our way into the rough stuff," Kevin set his voice recorder on the table between them. "Tell me how you formulated your top-secret house coffee blend."
Ashton broke into a wide grin as he described taking two months to travel and sample different beans, learn more about the roasting and blending process. Kevin sipped his coffee and nodded as if deep in thought, but his eyes kept wandering to Ashton's biceps. He'd been baking this morning so he smelled of cinnamon, his black t-shirt damp and clingy from sweating under his chef coat.
"So we sell the house blend all year, but we have single-source coffee that's seasonal, all of it fair trade," Ashton finished proudly.
"Coffee has always been your thing if I remember correctly," Kevin said.
"True, true, and once I started roasting my own beans it became a true obsession."
Kevin followed it up with a couple more softball questions about menu details and sandwiches. Ashton expounded on his love of food. "Cooking for someone is a simple way to show care, to be enjoyed almost as much as dining should be. Food is caring and comfort; it sustains us. It brings people together in a shared experience."
"Ooh that's a nice pull quote," Mackie chuckled. "I love when y'all have media training. It makes the bullshit flow much smoother.
Ashton seethed but said nothing. He'd watched this man's pettiness wreck a good opening, and Ashton couldn't do that to his crew. Zia brought their lunch. Ashton noticed Kevin had also ordered the chicken mojito wrap.
"This looks delicious. I think it's a nice touch that you've got so much, let's say diversity, in your restaurant. That you're actually letting them make their own food makes your menu more interesting. Not all restaurants get it. Please tell me you've seen how horribly Finn ripped you off for that tacky Irish pub," Kevin glanced up at him a tiny smirk playing on
"I haven't paid any attention to that," Ashton wanted to end the interview right there.
"Oh come on, you've had to see how much he's trying to recreate the magic you and Luke once had. The menu is tired, I don't give a fuck if he is Irish. Finn has no imagination yet fancies himself an impresario. Luke's still got it though. He even asked when I was coming here. I didn't tell him of course, I'm a professional after all."
"Of course," Ashton nodded checking out of the conversation. The reporter talked as he ate which given the wrap he was eating proved especially messy and little flecks of food kept flying his way. Ashton watched the door, nodding at customers, silently willing someone to come and save him. Kevin was still talking about himself when Hima and Zia came out of the kitchen. Ashton tried to catch their eye when he felt a hand on his arm.
"I wanna ask you about that one," Kevin leaned in so he could almost whisper.
"Who? Hima? What about her?" Ashton was pretty sure he wasn't going to like the answer.
"What's the deal? I've only ever seen you with Luke. Did your palette change that much? India must've been a real spiritual awakening for you huh?" Kevin winked at him, thinking he was clever.
Ashton controlled his breathing trying to keep his temper in check. He looked over at the reporter who kept talking oblivious to the situation.
"Who doesn't like trying something exotic. She seems like a smart cookie. She's darker than most Indian girls you see, like a rich brown butter sauce. I bet she tastes like tumeric though."
"Get out of my restaurant" Ashton hissed, his hands gripping the table to restrain himself from physical violence. "You are not going to insult my staff, my friends, in their restaurant."
Kevin started to speak but Ashton cut him off.
"Not another fucking word" he kept his voice at a low growl so as not to cause a scene. He noticed a couple of the closest tables were already watching them. "You've said enough and I'm barely holding back as it is. Get out of my restaurant, don't ever come back, don't ever speak to me again, and if you trash me in this review I promise you I will find you and fuck you up personally." Ashton stood up and Kevin flinched, the sight would have made him laugh if he hadn't been so furious. He stepped back and the reporter scrambled out of his seat leaving his lunch unfinished. Ashton walked back into the kitchen, Hima fast on his heels. He kicked the door open to the break room and headed for the speed bag hanging in the corner. He'd learned the hard way punching walls usually resulted in the wall winning the fight so he'd given himself something easier on his hands.
Hima watched him from the door, his back and biceps rippling as he went two minutes at full speed. When he finally turned around she could see the anger had cooled somewhat. She hated that her boss looked incredibly sexy when he was angry.
"Are you gonna tell me what happened?" She asked when he turned back around.
"Nope, it'll just piss me off all over again, and I gotta get ready for another fucking interview. With a guy who already doesn't like me," Ashton put this coat back on and headed into the line to check on Rafi.
At least the second interview can't be worse, she thought, wishing she believed it.
*********
Calum eased his beat up Range Rover into the parking lot of Anne-Marie's amongst the Mercedes, Audi's, and Teslas. He cursed the traffic when he checked the time. He was late, and they were busy. Not a good look he thought, grabbing his bag.
He smiled at the ladies waiting for a table before introducing himself to the impossibly serene hostess. He was quickly led to a table in an alcove not far from the kitchen. As he pulled out his voice recorder and notebook, he noticed a young woman heading his way. Her black hair was knotted tightly in a bun on top of her head, and her chef's coat had a large streak of what might be hollandaise sauce. He remembered his editor, Jacqueline, telling him Anne-Marie's had a female sous chef. He checked the notes she'd given him quickly as she was stopped by a server. Hima, Culinary Institute of America graduate, 23, Indian maybe?
"Hello I'm Hima Singh, you must be Calum Hood," she greeted him. From up close, he noticed that her eyes were a rich golden brown and that her smile didn't reach her eyes. He chalked it up to her youth; his editor said she was 23 but she looked like a teenager. He mentally stopped himself there. He'd become jaded by one too many husband/wife teams in recent years trying to rebrand a post-divorce startup as a "new adventure." While the divorce was true, Calum knew Ashton's history.
"Yup that's me, it's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Hima," he shook her hand, relieved to see her relax a bit.
"Chef Irwin will be out shortly. He's helping with a problem in the back" she glanced towards the kitchen, and Calum had a feeling she was lying.
"Can I get you something while you wait? Do you like coffee? We have a house blend cold brew Chef Irwin selected himself that we roast and grind on-site," she asked motioning towards the sign listing the daily selection of teas and coffee.
"Thanks, but maybe not coffee. I'm nervous enough without more caffeine," he admitted, "but the lavender and blackberry infused lemonade sounds amazing." He smiled and her face softened.
"Absolutely," she signaled to Zia who brought Calum his drink and a basket of warm, fluffy yeast rolls with Anne Marie's cinnamon honey butter. The smell reminded Calum he'd skipped breakfast as his stomach began to rumble.
"So you're Chef Irwin's sous chef? I heard a rumor you were a partner as well," he asked, almost drooling as he tore into the soft bread, watching the steam escape.
"Yes sir," Hima's smile finally reached her eyes, and she sat down across from him. "When he got his core team together for Anne Marie's, there's three of us total. Desean and Rafi are his kitchen managers, and he gave us the opportunity to buy in as minority investors, no pun intended."
"These rolls are incredible. Please take one before I finish this whole basket and ruin my lunch. How long have the three of you worked for Ashton, excuse me, Chef Irwin?" He asked.
"Desean and Rafi were part of his Lune Rouge crew. They go way back, but he met me fresh out of school and took me under his wing," she told him.
"Did you go to CIA?" Calum was jotting down notes, getting a feel for the story.
"I wish, it's so pretty up there. My twin brother attended Brown, and I went to Johnson and Wales so we could stay close."
"You're a twin? Is he a chef as well?" Calum asked.
"Are you kidding? He's a lawyer, of course, my parents had to have one in the family," Hima laughed.
Zia appeared beside their table. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but Rafi is looking for you, Hima."
A worried frown replaced her warm smile and Calum felt his nerves bubbling back up. He glanced around and caught sight of Ashton, flushed and sweaty from the heat of the kitchen, poking his head around the corner. Their eyes met, and Calum felt like he'd been hit by lightning.
Hima saw his reaction and whipped around to see what Calum was looking at. Spotting her boss she quickly excused herself and hurried to the back.
Zia cleared her throat and Calum realized she was still standing next to his table.
"Would you like to try Rafi's plantain skewers while you wait? It's my favorite thing here, and it'll leave room for whatever these geniuses cook up," she asked with a smile and a wink.
He nodded and she headed to the server station to put the order in. Calum looked around and started taking notes. The most striking thing about the decor was how they'd used diffused skylights for soft lighting to accent the Nakashima-style crafted wooden furniture. Thanks to his Mom’s love of Antiques Roadshow when he was younger Calum discovered his preference for natural grain wood and bespoke pieces. He liked the use of pastel neon signs to complement the muted green and blue tones of the mosaic tile floors and he thought the framed pictures of what he assumed were family photos of the staff provided a really nice personal touch. The largest photo was in the bar of Ashton and his mother, the restaurant's namesake, Anne Marie.
Zia set a plate down in front of him. "The boss will be out in a minute., Let me get you some more tea," she told him.
The skewers consisted of chunks of pineapple, plantain, red onion, and sweet potato grilled and dusted with chili powder and brown sugar served with a yogurt sauce for dipping.
Calum was almost finished with the first one when Ashton came out of the back, making his way towards him. The chef stopped to talk to several customers, the hostess, and Zia before he made it to Calum's table. Cal licked his fingers, wiping his hands clean with a Sani-wipe before standing up and offering a handshake.
Ashton took his hand and Calum wasn't expecting it to feel so soft. Caught off guard Calum stammered out an introduction as he sat, but he noticed Ashton just nodded, barely listening.
"If today isn't a good day we can reschedule," Calum sipped his tea, his throat suddenly dry.
"I'm here aren't I?" Ashton snapped. He folded his arms across his chest, his hazel eyes narrowing at Calum. "I still remember your first review you know."
Calum's pulse was racing. He hated confrontation, and he hadn't expected Ashton to kick off right away. He knew he'd better suck it up and apologize if this wasn't going to go completely off the rails.
"Listen, I wanted to apologize. I shouldn't have been such a dickhead." As he spoke Ashton scoffed at him and Calum felt his cheeks get warm. "I was young and stupid. I let something personal affect that review. I'm sorry."
"Personal? With Luke? What do you mean by that?" Ashton went from annoyed to hostile.
Calum realized he'd said something wrong but wasn't sure what exactly. He was floundering trying to think of what to say next.
"Nothing with Luke, no no no. I was involved with Finn and we weren't getting along. It's so stupid I know, but I think you're a great chef. The new place looks incredible, and Hima is a delight."
The anger drained from Ashton's face, leaving him looking empty and sad. His head dropped to his chest, and Calum held his breath waiting for him to speak.
"I'm really sorry, it's not you, but I can't do this right now. Maybe we can reschedule or something. My apologies, but I have to get back to work," Ashton mumbled, standing up.
Calum spotted Hima watching them from the podium, chewing on her lip, her black eyes wide with concern as Ashton hurried back to the kitchen. Calum started to get up but she was too quick for him.
"Well, aren't you lucky. I'm going on my lunch and I hate to eat alone," she slid back into the seat across from him. "Please forgive my boss. He's had a rough day, but I'm better company anyway." She waved to Zia who headed their way. "You gotta try the toasted gnocchi with gorgonzola cream sauce if you like cheese, but if you want something lighter the apple carrot kale wrap is excellent too," she smiled at him, and to her relief he smiled back, both of them realizing the situation might be salvageable after all.
(A/N: y’all my tag list, much like my life, is a hot mess. I know some of what I write isn’t for everyone. If you want tagged in part 2 of this fic or my upcoming smuts, pink kink series, or dad!calum series please let me know. I apologize for my previous mistake)
@sublimehood @tea4sykes @be-ready-when-i-say-go @scribblesos @kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995 @wildmichaelflower @castaway-cashton @damselindistressanu @notinthesameguey @cashtonasfuck @irwinkitten @mermaidcashton @malumsmermaid
#calum hood#ashton irwin#5sos writing collab#cashton smut#cashton slash#Calum Hood smut#ashton irwin smut#cashton#calum 5sos#ashton fanfic#ashton 5sos#5sos
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Winter Warmth ch 12 - Natsu’s Quest
Ao3 link to the full fic (with intended formatting)- https://archiveofourown.org/works/11603859/chapters/26084934 (Jeez I am on a ROLL this weekend with writing.) Wanted. One wizard to help with a desperate situation. A golden gate key and five hundred thousand jewels are your reward.
Desperate situation? Natsu had no idea what that could mean. He really didn't care. All he was concerned about was finishing the job, collecting the reward, and getting back home.
It turned out that "desperate" was subject to interpretation.
"You want me to get rid of all the dead plants in your yard?"
"Young man this is not a yard; it's a garden."
Grrrr.
"Okay, my bad. So you want me to get rid of of the dead plants in the garden."
"That is correct. I simply cannot host my candlelit garden dinners when my garden is overflowing with dead filth. What would the chancellor say?"
Natsu had no idea what the chancellor would say, nor did he really care. He wasn't about to say that out loud, though.
Do it for Lucy. That thought is what motivated him that entire afternoon.
It kept him from swearing up a storm as a thorny vine slashed his hand.
It kept him focused on getting this ridiculous job done.
And honestly it kept him from just burning the entire yard (garden) to a crisp out of frustration.
Only love could get Natsu to do such a tedious job. His entire plan depended on getting it finished to the rich lady's satisfaction.
Sure, he did burn away some pesky brambles that wouldn't budge otherwise, but the woman didn't seem to mind. He ignored the obvious sneer as she took in his muddy clothes and soot streaked face.
Clearly she noticed the way his eyes lit up when she gave him the money and the key.
"Might I ask why you wanted this drab little thing?"
"My girlfriend's a celestial witch. Best in Fiore." Proud grin, flashing fangs.
"Oh, the Heartfilia girl? Good family. Despite your horrendous fashion sense you seem to have some taste. Good day." Another sneer as she closed her door, leaving Natsu and Happy free to leave.
"Sheesh, what a snob. Why are some people like that?"
"I dunno. Guess they think being rich makes the world spin around 'em." Shrug. He smirked.
"Good thing Lucy's not like that."
"Anymore!"
The cat chuckled. Natsu was tempted to lash out, but Happy was right. She had been a little brat at first...thankfully she had grown up a lot since then. Grown into the strong mage he knew and loved.
They both had grown quite a bit, in fact.
The thought made him smile.
After lunch the pair focused on the other component of the trip: picking out a ring for Lucy. Truthfully, Natsu wasn't really worried about the price. He only wanted to find something that would suit her. Playful and fun rather than extravagant, with a touch of elegance.
That was easier said than done.
This town had an entire row of jewelry shops, each with what seemed like millions of rings to choose from. He spent what seemed like hours looking and growing increasingly irritated when Happy chimed in with an idea.
"Why don't you ask Mira?"
"Because I didn't think about it, that's why, buddy." He ruffled the exceed's fur, pulled out his lacrima, and called Mira.
Of course, as fate would have it, something caught his attention just as she answered.
"Natsu? What's up? Is everything alright?"
"Everything's great. I think I found the perfect ring."
"Ooooo! I want to see!"
"Huh? How?"
"Oh, tap the camera button."
"Okay..." Tap. The screen changed to display the counter in front of him. He moved his hand a bit so that the ring in question was plainly visible. “Is it the one with the blue stones?” “Yeah...think she’ll like it?” Natsu blushed, suddenly feeling shy. Mira squealed.
“Of course she will! You got the key, right?”
“I got it. Still can’t believe Aquarius’s key ended up in the hands of some crazy rich lady...” “What matters is that you have it, and you’re giving it to Lucy. Now, buy the ring and hurry back home, alright?!”
He could have sworn he caught a glimpse of she-devil in her eyes. Gulp. “Yes, ma’am.”
“And don’t forget to call Lucy tonight!”
Blip.
The call ended before Natsu could retort that he would never forget something that important.
Some time later…
Dragon slayer and exceed were lounging around next to their tent and a roaring fire. They had just eaten dinner and now Natsu was contemplating when to call Lucy.
And of course Happy was egging him on.
“What are you waiting for? I know you loooooooove her.”
“Duh. Everyone knows that by now. What if she’s busy writing?”
“Like that’s ever stopped ya before!”
Natsu grinned at that.
“I guess you’re right, buddy.”
Mere moments later the lovebirds were chatting away quite happily. Lucy had indeed been writing her novel for most of the day, so Natsu’s call was a welcome break.
It was a long conversation. They talked about her writing, how her latest novel was going. As he did so very often, he encouraged her.
They talked about the job. Lucy had a good hearty laugh at Natsu’s impression of the stuffy rich lady.
Then they talked about the goings-on at the guild. He listened to this intently. He would never admit it but truth be told he felt a bit lonely, even with Happy traveling with him.
“I wanna show you somethin’.”
“Huh? What?”
“Look...” He switched on the lacrima’s camera and pointed it at the night sky, so clear and full of stars. “It ain’t Stella but it’s still pretty cool.”
“It’s beautiful. Thanks, Natsu.”
“No problem. Wish you were here.” His voice softened with those last four words. Well, if it wasn’t for the big surprise, he would have brought her along…
“Could we watch it together?”
“Sure.” Anything for her, especially if it made her smile. He lay in the grass with the lacrima on his chest, gazing up at the sky with his girl. It wasn’t hard at all to imagine her laying next to him as she pointed out constellations and planets.
Immeasurable time passed. At long last Lucy’s voice caught his attention.
“I should go. We both need to get some sleep.”
“Yeah, guess you’re right.” Yawn, stretch. “Sweet dreams, babygirl.”
Shit… He had NOT meant to call her that. Not out loud. Shit, shit, shit! No mistake, the slayer’s face was hot with blush.
“Babygirl…? I think I like that...”
“Y-you do?” Gulp.
“Yeah. It’s sweet.” Soft giggle. “Night, Natsu. See you tomorrow night.” Right as the call ended he heard something, three words someone without dragon slayer hearing might very well have missed. These three words touched his heart and made him want to get home to see his girlfriend as soon as possible.
“I love you.” ~~ Natsu and Happy were on the road early the next morning. They had a long way to go still and Natsu was determined to get back to Magnolia before nightfall.
They almost didn’t make it in time. About halfway home, walking along a river, they were attacked by a rather aggressive river monster.
Thankfully the beast was sent packing, or, well, swimming, with a well-placed Fire Dragon Iron Fist.
Back in Magnolia, Natsu stopped at their cottage first. This was mostly because he wasn’t about to meet up with Lucy looking and smelling like three days of travel. He washed up, got dressed, and listened to Happy giving him all kinds of hell about supposedly being whipped the whole time.
“Whatever, buddy. You’ll understand when you’re older.” Said with a chuckle. That was when Natsu took a long look at his reflection.
His hair had grown out a little. Nothing like the wild mess it had been after his year of training, but long enough to notice.
The stubble on his cheek was new. The entire look was scruffy yet mature. He decided that he liked it… and privately hoped Lucy would, too.
Lucy…
Thinking about her, especially their pending reunion, made the dragon slayer smile.
That smile remained on his face as he ran back to the guild hall with Happy clinging to his shoulder.
Soon…Soon!
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punk!patton au masterlist
characters: listed under the cut
pairings: moxiety, logince, background remceit (sleep/deceit), past thomas/female oc, and possibly more in the future
rating: teen (see under read more for more info on that)
warnings are on the individual chapters :)
links to the fic itself:
part one
part two
part three
part four
part five (updated 3/22/19)
ao3 version
companions:
serpent’s silk
weak spot
mouth breather
answered questions and random ramblings:
about virgil:
about his celiac disease
when they discovered he was celiac
more about his celiac disease
is virgil adopted?
about virgil’s biological mother
can’t he bring a lunch?
about patton:
a bit about logan and patton’s relationship
more about logan and patton’s relationship
does patton want logan to be a dad-dad
patton’s curls vs his emo style
what does patton normally wear?
tattoos and piercings?
abandonment issues?
about his meltdowns
does he want to be a dad
music tastes
about roman:
his deafness
about his hearing aids
his reaction to virgil having a black eye
how he feels about patton
roman as a teenager with a splash of thomas
about logan:
has he wanted to adopt anyone else?
about emile:
future role in the fic?
about dc:
how old is he and what does he like about remy
artwork:
patton being edgy
virgil being a sweetheart
some cuTe artwork of patton and virgil
patton and virgil moodboards
more moodboards!!!
a shitpost about patton and logan
the softest, sweetest baby boy
miscellaneous:
virgil cosplay (makeup)
questions are always welcome! i love to talk about these guys and the story!!! <3
any artwork is totally cool as long as you tag me so i can see it!
other stuff:
more on that there rating:
there will be no nsf/w stuff in this fic other than like some very vaguely implied things through like winks. i am extremely sex repulsed, and n/sfw things trigger my anxiety really badly, which means that i can’t write or read those things. it isn’t fair to myself to attempt to please potential readers at my own cost, and i deeply apologize to anyone who wanted this story to go there in the future. this goes for all of my other fics as well, but i guess i never said this outright. sorry, but at the same time, not.
character bios (italicized are the mains, and the regular text are the supporting):
patton summers (16): our main boy. homoromantic asexual. leaning towards 5′10.5″. he was orphaned as a toddler and spent almost all of his childhood in an orphanage because he just had too many emotions for prospective parents to deal with. he hides said emotions away behind his punk exterior, but a certain sweet pastel boy is starting to crack away at that shell...
logan summers (36): patton’s new legal guardian. super gay. jewish. around 5′10″ or so. [REDACTED until part 6]. Loves his mom and step-dad to pieces. Wishes he could visit them more often, but there’s only so much that he can do with his teacher schedule. btw he teaches first graders, and he loves them so much. he is extremely smart, and he has a hobby of collecting books!
virgil sanders (16): an odd, anxious teenager in patton’s class. pan. like 5′7″ and tiny. adopted by roman after his mom was killed when he was a baby. knows of his birth parents, but he still loves roman as if he were his biological dad. he is super, super sweet and kind, but he has anxiety issues that often lead to him being quiet and shy. he loves to dress in “feminine,” pastel clothings. absolutely in love with patton. like, head over heels. just wants to see that boy happy.
roman sanders (38): virgil’s adoptive father. so, so gay. around logan height. he was raised heavily irish catholic with his twin brother, thomas, by his very loving parents. [REDACTED until part 6]. he’s deaf, but he’s able to communicate through sign language and lip reading, and he can verbalize pretty well. loves his brother, nephew, and son so, so much, as well as his best friend, emile, and his son, dc. he works as a therapist.
thomas sanders (38): roman’s twin brother. could be gayer... also around logan height. he’s a chemical engineer-slash-actor. he had his son, remy, with his now ex-wife, who he is still very close with. he didn’t realize that he was gay until after remy was born, but... he isn’t the only one.
remy sanders (17): virgil’s cousin/roman’s nephew/thomas’ son. gay. half vietnamese, half irish. giant. like, 6′4″ giant. extremely intelligent and athletic. he’s played hockey since he was a little kid because he enjoyed hitting the ball around (and the other kids), and because he was in a huge rival with dc picani. he’s the definition of “string bean” body-wise. he was held back junior year due to depression-induced slacking off, so he has to retake it instead of being allowed to be a senior like was supposed to be. he has a giant crush on dc, but he hates to acknowledge it--especially now that he flunked a grade and dc won their stupid rivalry.
kim nguyen (38): thomas’ ex-wife/remy’s mom. super lesbian. vietnamese. as i said earlier, thomas was not the only one to realize they were not straight until remy. she is the sweetest woman on earth (although, she would say that her wife is). super supportive of remy and virgil and thomas and roman. she’s just... supportive of everyone, tbh. she takes remy on the weekends, and she lives a few towns over with her wife. she and thomas were high-school sweethearts who ended up getting married and settling down before the a-gay-kening happened.
emile picani (38): thomas and roman’s best friend since college. still unsure of his sexuality and gender, but he knows that he's at the very least transmasc! maybe genderfluid? we don’t know babey!!! 6′ even. this man is just so energetic all the time. he’s a huge sweetheart to everyone, and he cares maybe a bit too much about people. he works as a school psychologist. he adopted dc as a baby, and he loves that kiddo so darn much. he never let his childish side fade, which works both to his detriment and favor.
dc picani (17): emile’s son. somewhere on the gay spectrum, also possibly a demi-boy? who knows! not dc, that’s for sure. he’s got heterochromia and a large birthmark that covers most of the left side of his face. so, so smart and athletic. he’s a badass gymnast, and he enjoys art, and he likes learning. he doesn’t really know how his and remy’s rivalry started, but it did, and it never really stopped until remy was held back. he misses the time he spent with remy--even if it was a bit antagonistic. absolutely does not have a crush on remy, duh. can get mad really easily if you push his buttons too much.
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You are not alone
My first try on a hurt, sad story (for Harry Potter)
Takes place in the next gen, featuring the new Maurauders(Albus Potter, Scorpius Malfoy and Arcturus Black [my oc, see my profile for more information])
For the September Event: World Suicide Prevention
Task: Write a story in which themes of suicide, suicidal behaviour, depression and any of the surrounding issues come into play. I would like it if you could try and write about 'the light at the end of the tunnel' so to speak, such as where the character with the underlying issues reaches a breakthrough or discovers a relationship or friendship that helps. However, you do not have to do this, it can be an angsty fic with no such happy ending if you like.
Ancient Runes, Assignment 6#, Task #2: The runic number of Raido is five, which, just like the rune itself, represents constant motion. Write about somebody who's unable to stop before it becomes too late (you can interpret this however you want).
Extra prompts:
(emotion) Upset/(emotion) Relieved/(word) Pain/(word) Alone/(word) Home/(word) Friend/(colour)Crimson/ (colour) Jet black
Betaread by LittleTee.
I don't own HP and never will.
You are not alone
Rain dripped against the windows of the Slytherin common room when Arcturus awoke. He stretched himself and blew out a few loose strands of sandy brown hair from his face. He turned his head to the left and right to see if Albus or Scorpius were already awake. However, he found only his friend Scorpius, still sleeping soundly in his bed. Albus must have gone to the common room to study. The young Slytherin shook his head, smiling. The young Potter boy was always the early bird of the three new Marauders, getting up much earlier than his two friends, even on the weekends.
Arcturus flopped back down again. Finally, it was the weekend. No hassling by teachers or other students, no sitting in lessons being laughed at by others when he said the wrong answer. Just hanging around with his friends doing nothing, like their role models the real Marauders had done.
Closing his eyes he thought about them. James Potter, Albus's grandfather whom he never met; Remus Lupin, the werewolf and the last of the Marauders for years till he died alongside his wife at the Great Battle of Hogwarts; Peter Pettigrew, the rat who betrayed his friends to the Dark Lord and yet died to help Albus's dad in the end; and lastly, Sirius Black, Arcturus's late grandfather.
Sirius Black, the first Black to be sorted into Gryffindor, breaking the traditional Slytherin sorting. His children that followed weren't any different, being sorted into Hufflepuff and Gryffindor respectively, and his grandchildren (well, the eight oldest) had done great, all continuing the tradition their grandfather had started back in 1971: any House but Slytherin.
Then last year, he, Arcturus Black, had screwed up the perfect non-Slytherin record when that old piece of clothing was placed on his head and had shouted "Slytherin!" The looks his family had given him when he walked over to the Slytherin table. Looks full of ranging from shock to disbelief to mad.
Oh, how he hated that he was ever sorted into Slytherin. It constantly gave other students - and worse, even his own family - a reason to criticize, bully and hate him.
Okay, maybe his brothers didn't exactly hate him but sometimes he could feel their hateful stares and belittling whispers, following him wherever he went.
He opened his eyes again and found Scorpius by the door, about to open it.
"Oh, good morning, Arcturus. Albus and I will be waiting in the common room, so hurry up and get dressed, okay?" spoke the blond boy before disappearing, but not before he had gotten an okay from his friend.
The sandy brown haired boy lifted himself up and pulled off his pajama top. He stopped, his sweater in his hand, he traced with his other hand along the marks on his wrist. Cuts and scars dotted across both his wrists.
Some were old. Some were new. A few of them even fresh from yesterday. All of them from his own hands and trusty pocket knife.
He knew he should probably stop and just talk about it, but the relief he felt from all the pain when he cut and sliced with his knife was just too good. The physical pain defeating the emotional if only for a small sweet moment and in that moment he was free.
A knock on the door startled him.
"Arcturus? Come on hurry up, we want to get to breakfast early, remember? We need to get our plan across as soon as possible."
Right, their plan. He had nearly forgotten that today they wanted to check out some old secret passageways they had found around the Black Lake. He hurried with getting dressed and then the trio rushed to breakfast.
The Great Hall was already full of students, with most of them sitting on the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables. Looking around he saw none of his siblings or older cousins.
Good, that would at least mean he would be able to enjoy breakfast without the glares and insults.
They finished their breakfast in a hurry, excited to make their plan a reality, but it never came that far.
"Hey Potter, Black, Malfoy! What do you think you stupid snakes are doing!?"
Arcturus's heart dropped into his stomach. McLaggen and his gang. Their tormentors ever since they had started Hogwarts in the last year.
The few students around them began to scramble away. Like they knew, that whatever would be going on, it would be very bad for them to interfere.
McLaggen and his gang circled them, like they always did, pushing them into a corner.
Why was nobody ever helping them? Why was it that nobody ever saw how much the seventh years were bulliyng the younger boys?
"We were just walking along the halls. We haven't done anything wrong," began Albus, defending himself and his friends.
Though their bullies were having none of it.
"I don't think so. I bet you snakes were planning on who to hurt next, right? Admit it, you Slytherins are just waiting for McGonagall to not pay attention in order to bring back the Death Eaters!"
"That's not true!" Interjected Scorpius before suffering from a harsh slap by McLaggen.
"Hey, leave him alone!" shouted Arcturus.
Why was there no one helping them? Where were all the other students?
"Shut up Malfoy, you don't get to talk. We all know who your grandfather and real father were. And you Black, tsk, what a shame you are. I don't even want to waste words on you and that Potter baby. Such great potential and you waste it in Slytherin. Well at least you make good training dummies, right guys?" McLaggen continued, drawing his wand and smiling devilishly.
He and his friends raised their wands stepping back to strike at the younger students and the fight began.
Easy curses were fired from Arcturus's and his friends' side, while McLaggen and his gang used more complex and difficult spells, that reached far beyond the level of the three second years; however, there was one spell they knew would help them.
Three shouts of Stupor later and the McLaggen gang lay on the floor shocked by the spell. But with that came their problems.
Arcturus knew that a few teachers hated them but for their DADA teacher to give them detention. He hadn't thought it would go that far.
First he dragged them into an empty classroom, shouting at how irresponsible it was to use the Stupor spell, then he forced them to apologize to their bullies.
Had the guy not seen what was going on?
Black was near tears, by the end of their teacher's rant. Storming out of the classroom he immediately ran to the next toilet.
Who cared who saw him, running around crying? What he needed now was his pocket knife and to rid himself of everything. To stop the pain. To find relief. Sweet, sweet relief.
"Stupid snake! Death Eater! Useless!" McLaggen's words repeated and rang in his head over and over again.
One slash for each hateful, spiteful phrase. Right, left, and right again.
It felt good. So good. He was rid of the pain.
For now.
It had taken a while for the bleeding to stop, but when it did, Arcturus stood and ((found his friends.
Now they were walking to their detention. On a Saturday. A day where most students were outside chilling at the Great Lake.
"Arcturus, what are you doing here?" greeted an all too familiar voice as the New Marauders walked into the classroom. It was Cygnus.
His older brother sat sprawled out on a chair next to James Potter. Great, just what he needed. One of his siblings knowing what had happened. He could practically hear his eldest brother's scolding now.
"I caught your brother and his friends using spells on other students this morning, " the teacher explained to Cygnus before turning to the New Marauders, "please take a seat and write, 'I will not use spells on other students' two hundred times. No copying spells. When you're done with that you will be free to go."
Arcturus nearly cried out. He knew this teacher was strict and unfair, but this much for just defending themselves?
Worse his family would know of his punishment.
"A Black in Slytherin. I knew this would bring bad luck," he could hear his aunt say, or, "You got detention again?! Why do you always make so much trouble?!" from his brothers.
Couldn't they just leave him alone? He felt sick again. He needed his knife, desperately.
"Sir, I don't feel that well, may I go to the toilet, please?" he asked and the teacher dismissed him with a mere nod.
He was aware of Cygnus whispering something to James while he ran out.
Had the older Black noticed how upset his younger brother looked?
Probably not. He began the same procedure as he had done before so many times. One cut for each hurtful word, spoken or unspoken on both wrists. This time it took even longer for the blood to stop.
By the time it did he had spent nearly half an hour on the toilet and when he came out he was met by Cygnus, telling him that the teacher said for him to come back tomorrow first thing in the morning to finish his task. Arcturus didn't know if he felt relieved or annoyed. Either way his short respite given to him by his own hands and blade had left.
It was Sunday before midday. Arcturus had gotten up early, went to their teacher and finished his assignment. It had still taken him a lot of time to finish and by that time breakfast was already over.
His stomach was growling and he cursed his bad luck as he ran to the library, where he had planned to meet his other older brother, fifteen minutes ago, to study.
"You're late," came the greeting from Draco. His second oldest brother stood with crossed arms by the entance of the library. Anyone could hear how pissed he was, even those who didn't know him for twelve years.
"I had to finish my detention-" Arcturus began, though his brother interrupted him:
"So I've heard."
A simple statement and still so full of unspoken accusations.
He knew what his brother truly wanted to say: "How could you screw up so badly?"
He could already feel that this study session was going to be bad. And if his fears were right, then helping Lupus later in the Greenhouses would go just as bad as this.
...
He came back to an empty dorm room, exhausted and dirty from helping in the Greenhouses and studying. His friends were still out. Albus and Scorpius didn't leave an explanation to what they were doing today.
Where his friends leaving him now too?
Would he be alone?
Well, at least now he could use his pocket knife in peace.
He began as usual, one cut left, one cut right, but this time was different. He cut deeper, wider, watching as the crimson blood leaked out of him, staining his emerald Slytherin bed sheets with the colours of Gryffindor. He would have laughed at the irony of it, if he didn't feel so faint, so tired. Like he was slowly slipping away into a warm stream. Jet black darkness overtook him and he didn't feel anything anymore.
...
Light streamed through his windows. It felt like home, warm and sunny.
The light tickled him, awakening him.
Wait, he was wakening up? He wasn't dead?
Turning his head he looked around. He was in the hospital wing of Hogwarts. His wrists bandaged. They hurt, but unlike the other times, this pain didn't make him feel free.
"Oh, good. You're awake. Your brothers and friends will be relieved to hear it," the voice of the old healer had startled him. Had she said brothers? That couldn't be right, could it?
It was like only now that he realized the four crumbled forms, sitting in chairs next to his bed. With messed up hair and clothes, and tear streaked faces... they didn't look like the perfect non-Slytherin siblings he was used to.
"You know, they stayed the whole night. Didn't want to go, not even when I tried to order away... Your friends stayed too, but I sent them off to breakfast a few minutes ago. They'll be back later," upon seeing his unbelieving face she added, "you really are lucky to have them. They saved your life you know. They won't ever leave you alone now, I think."
Arcturus thought about what the old healer had just said and smiled.
Maybe she was right, maybe he really wasn't alone. His friends and brothers would love him, they had shown that today.
"And," he looked up to the old healer, a tenderness shining through her grey old eyes, "don't keep whatever hurtful things you hear to heart. Whatever it is, it isn't worth hurting or," she paused her face grim, "killing yourself over. .. I know."
Arcturus gasped, waking one of his brothers as he saw the old scars marking the healer's wrist. Meeting her eyes he saw understanding, acceptance, and must surprisingly, compassion.
"Don't keep quiet," she began as she reapplied her glamour, hiding those ancient scars once again. "talk about it. Your family and friends would be devestated if you were gone."
"Yes, ma'am."
"Hey, you're finally awake," Cygnus observed and the healer left to check on another student a bed down from him. "We were so worried for you. Are you okay now?"
"Yes," and he was. He knew there would be arguments and lectures and maybe even visits to a healer later on, but for the first time in months he felt okay.
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