#The only reason my goodnight posts are so early is my new time limit

[vampiricbisexuality]

Trying to explain to my family that I have insomnia and nothing I do fixes it:

[xoioel]

꧁PROMPTS꧂

➪ ex; prompt 4 and 19 with Jisoo

THE LITTLE THINGS

1. spending every minute together to make the most of their limited time

2. sharing ice cream/a popsicle at dawn at the beach

3. nights at the pool

4. "I can't believe I've met you"

5. early love confessions

6. sleeping in a hammock together

7. running on the beach at sunrise/sunset

8. "It feels like I've known you forever"

9. spending entire nights talking and telling each other their life stories

10. spontaneous engagement/wedding

11. picturing a future together at a picnic

12. "I should just stuff you in my suitcase and take you home with me."

13. trying new things together for the first time

14. being the best version of themself when they're with the other

15. "Let me show you something! You'll love it!"

16. teaching the other a new skill

17. buying matching accessories/souvenirs

18. repressing the thought of going home again

19. denying that they have to go home again

20. hiding love letters in the other's suitcase

21. not-stopping flow of tears when they part

WAYS TO SAY “I LOVE YOU” BUT NOT SAYING “I LOVE YOU

22. Forehead kisses, and smiling through the kiss

23. Resting their forehead on the other’s after a kiss

24. Tucking strands of loose hair behind their ears, with a thumb caressing their cheek

25. Interlacing their fingers with the other’s when they least expect it

26. Sleepy back hugs when the other person is busy whipping up breakfast in the kitchen, catching them by surprise

27. Just doing their own things in the same space; being so comfortable around the other even in their pyjamas

28. Holding both their hands while holding their gaze gently, just before leaning in for a kiss

29. Switching positions with the other when walking down a busy sidewalk because your feel the need to keep the other safe

30. Being playfully clingy in the mornings when one has an off day and the other has to rush to work

31. Getting them something from the store when they only mentioned it in passing

32. When one is overseas for a work trip and everything they see reminds them of the other person (bonus: whenever it happens, they take a picture and drop the other person a text.)

33. Squeezing their hand reassuringly and holding their hand throughout an intense social situation (eg. a large school reunion which the more introverted person is dreading)

34. Kissing away their tears

35. Meeting them where they are, mentally and emotionally; never forcing them to do anything they aren’t comfortable with

36. Wholeheartedly supporting their dreams, and putting that into action by making concrete plans for it to happen

37. Dropping the other person an encouraging text before an important interview/event

38. Surprising the other with flowers just because; no occasion and no reason needed

39. Picking the other person up from work when it’s getting late, and walking them right to their doorstep after

40. Good morning and goodnight texts

41. Making the other person a Spotify playlist with songs that remind them of their relationship and growth

42. Remembering the littlest of things — activities they like and dislike, favourite brands of stationery, go-to ice cream flavour, choice of popcorn

43. Writing little notes on post-its and leaving them in random pages of their textbook, so that they will get a little endorphin boost when studying

RANDOM

44. accidental hand touching

45. eye contact across a crowded room

46. exchanging secret smiles

47. first conversations alone

48. admiring them from afar

49. asking them about their family

50. visiting them at their place of work

51. discovering common interests

52. exchanging gifts for the first time

53. a surprise encounter

54. picking a leaf/flower petal out of their hair, or brushing dirt off of their face

55. nervous embarrassment around them (blushing, fidgeting etc)

56. complimenting their appearance

57. looking at their lips as they talk

58. finding excuses to be alone with each other

59. naturally gravitating closer together

60. noticing their individual quirks

61. hello/goodbye hugs that linger

62. talking late into the night

63. clumsy attempts at flirting

64. sharing long term dreams, goals and aspirations with one another

65. playful teasing

67. being unable to keep their eyes off of them

68. attempting to find out if they are single/available

69. finding comfort in their scent

70. creating art inspired by them

71. sharing an umbrella in the rain, or a coat/blanket in the cold

72. surprising them with their favourite treat

73. visiting their home for the first time

SAD

74. "you haven't changed." "...do you mean that in a good way or bad way?"

75. "do you want to give us another chance?" "i'd like that."

76. "come back to my place."

77. "let's start over."

78. "i don't want to start over."

79. "do you realize how long i've been looking for this sweater? you've had it this whole time?!"

80. "i don't care what others say, i trust you."

81. "you better not screw this up."

82. "i thought you left..."

83. "i regret everything."

84. "....i trust you."

85. "god i missed you so much..."

86. "my mom asked about you the other day."

87. "i've been thinking about you lately."

88. "you've never left my mind."

89. "i thought i was doing the right thing. i had no idea...im sorry."

90. "i made the biggest mistake of my life and losing you was it's price."

91. "i should still hate you. why can't i hate you?"

92. "please don't make me regret this.."

93. "i can't believe we're really doing this."

94. "is this still your favorite place?" "you know it is..."

95. "we still got it." "hell yeah we do."

96. "you get one more date...one more chance."

97. "everything felt so empty without you."

98. "i still love you." "i know, you couldn't have gotten rid of me that easily."

[dramaticviolincrescendo]

The thing is, Ian was right. Mickey doesn't know any better, the writers on the show made sure of that, because for them the only important thing about Mickey is his devotion to Ian. But we're a bit more realistic about it and can analyze Ian's actions without being limited by someone's poor imagination.

There’s a lot to address here, so please forgive me for the lengthy response, anon! 🙂 I’ll preface all of it by saying this: my general opinion is that if Mickey has what makes him happy, we should support that regardless of how we feel about the other party (with obvious exceptions like physical abuse, etc.). If Byron was what made him happy, I would support him even if I couldn’t stand the guy. The same goes for any other character in any other franchise, at least for me. Now, onto your points:

I’m not sure which scene you mean when you mention Ian saying he doesn’t know any better, but I’m definitely with you on our ability to analyze Ian’s actions. The problem here is that analyzing will always be colored by perspective and implicit bias. If your fave is Mickey, anything that hurts him will look a whole lot worse than what he does that hurts Ian and perhaps lead to conducting a less than thorough analysis or rejecting sensible arguments about Ian’s character. Based on the number of posts I see about how Mickey is the only good thing on the show, I’d argue that that is a very real danger in many of the takes on Ian as well as everyone else. I’ve seen some pretty heavy demonizing of characters who hurt Mickey’s feelings or aren’t actively sweet to him, which is a bit unrealistic since that’s life and Mickey certainly never seems to mind or let it keep him down for long.

As far as him not knowing better, on the whole, I don’t think that gives Mickey much credit at all. Actually, it doesn’t really give him any credit, which is sort of surprising given how vehemently people defend his IQ, academically and emotionally, against what amounted to a joke. Mickey knows that Ian messes up and does things that are questionable at best and hurtful at worst. He’s not an innocent, pure character who endures heartache after heartache to throw himself at the brick wall of earning Ian’s attention. He gives as good as he gets and has hurt Ian too. They’re human and written very realistically in that regard. Their love for one another allows them to forgive transgressions and move on, not hold grudges or “not know any better” with regards to what they deserve. Love isn’t about what we deserve, and I think it’s important to remember that a relationship won’t last if it’s based on an arbitrary numerical score of who has done more harm than the other. Things happen. Poor decisions are made. They can allow that to break them or work through it. Mickey has actively chosen to work through it because at the end of the day, he loves Ian more than he is interested in finding something else. In earlier seasons, Ian similarly chose to work through it with someone who might never be in a position to come out and begin the full relationship that he so desperately wanted. That’s beautiful to me, not contemptible.

As far as the only important thing about Mickey being his devotion to Ian, we’ll also have to agree to disagree. 🙂 In the early seasons, while Ian was certainly the catalyst for it, Mickey’s story was about coming out more than his devotion to Ian. That’s why we have the scenes where he taunted Kash (focus: keeping his secret), purposely got sent back to juvie (focus: hiding from Terry if he found out), and got married (focus: self-preservation). We do absolutely see a rising devotion for Ian during this period, of course, and there’s no argument that his character was written expressly to be Ian’s love interest. The writers still made him a well-developed one with his own motives, fears, and desires outside of Ian in a way that later love interests didn’t get. (My own belief is that they didn’t intend for the later relationships to last like they did Mickey, but regardless of the validity there, Mickey was written as a character with more depth from the very beginning and existed before anything with Ian ever happened.)

The first half of s4 shows Mickey on his own merits. He’s handling his new position as a patriarch of the family, running the business while Terry is fairly hands-off and watches. He decides to help the Russian girls and ends up going into business with Kev. We learn a lot about Mickey’s character outside of Ian during that time. In fact, there are only a couple of scenes that really focus on him missing Ian until finding him becomes Mickey’s task: asking Kev if anyone has heard from him, the bathroom scene, and the later Alibi scene. Otherwise, the early s4 writers showed us a Mickey who was compassionate, ambitious, utilitarian, entrepreneurial, and collaborative—all without tying it back to Ian. Kev and V are renowned friends of the Gallaghers, but Mickey doesn’t grow closer to Kev in an attempt to learn more about what happened to Ian. He doesn’t help the girls because he thinks Ian would want him to. In fact, with the exception of those scenes I mentioned, we have no reason to believe that Ian is on Mickey’s mind at all while he’s doing these other things. He has a life outside of Ian just like the opposite is true, and s4 went to great lengths to show us that.

The second half of s4 is, once again, about keeping his secret until he decides to come out. (Read: decides to, is not forced to. More on that in a moment.) Yes, his devotion to Ian is once again the catalyst for some of his decisions, but there’s much more to it than that. Once again, we still see scenes with Mickey operating on his own for his own purposes. He doesn’t leave home entirely because he wants to be with Ian—he also wants to escape from his wife and pretend that things are the way they used to be. He doesn’t scam money from the rich guy or take more than his cut from the register at the Alibi to protect Ian—he does it for self-preservation so that Svetlana won’t get him killed. He doesn’t go to the baptism to keep up appearances and protect Ian—he does it to keep up appearances for himself and because...well, like it or not, that’s his son. The lattermost is something Ian specifically does not want him to do, and if he does, he wants to be there. Mickey goes against his wishes because it’s about protecting himself (and perhaps, by extension, their relationship), and rightfully so. Coming out at the Alibi does once again tie to Ian as a catalyst for change in Mickey’s life, but it didn’t have to happen. Mickey could have grabbed his coat, told everyone goodnight, and left with Ian. At no time did Ian tell him that he would leave if Mickey didn’t come out to everyone or admit they’re a couple, even if he did make reference to the fact that Mickey was hiding and not free. All Ian wanted was for Mickey not to treat him like a mistress or expect him to stick around if he did. Instead, it was a logical culmination of Mickey’s written development to come out. He’s stronger and more independent than he used to be. He’s capable of taking care of himself and surviving in the world without relying on Terry. He’s in a position where yes, he’s still justifiably terrified of coming out and what it’ll mean where Terry is concerned, but he’s able to do it. Ian is a catalyst for it, but being devoted to him isn’t Mickey’s only reason.

In s5, a lot of Mickey’s story does revolve around his devotion to Ian, but not any more than Ian’s revolves around devotion to him in the second half of s3. We still see Mickey doing business and running the family, but having Ian be his more central concern makes sense because Ian is sick and the writers have already told us that his health is a ticking time bomb waiting to explode. In denial or not, Mickey knows this. And so we see his story center around Ian because, to an extent, it has to. Ian is mentally and physically sick. He’s adjusting not only to meds, but to a label that makes him feel ashamed and afraid. Mickey is devoted to him, and so Mickey does everything he can to take care of him. But here’s the thing: that scares Ian too. He’s seen what happens to the people who try to take care of Monica. He knows how it felt to try only to be ignored or betrayed or abandoned. The breakup isn’t about anger at being coddled or, by my interpretation and Ian’s own words, him being selfish. It’s about him seeing that Mickey’s devotion is going to keep him from living his life and ultimately (in his opinion) hurt him beyond repair, and so he sets Mickey free. It hurts him, yes, but it does work.

Because even though we don’t see it happen on-screen, s6 through s9 can’t possibly be Mickey sitting in a prison cell pining over Ian. If that was going to happen, we’d have seen it in s4. By this point, we know who Mickey is outside of Ian and can assume that he’s operating in much the same way on the inside until he figures out what he wants to do. We know he and Svetlana had a business arrangement where they took out contracts for work he could do in prison. We know that he makes a business acquaintanceship with Damon, which means he was probably involved in dealing or smuggling while there. Neither of these things can possibly revolve around devotion to Ian because they could conceivably keep him from Ian longer. His sentence is fifteen years, and if he’s counting on being out in eight to be with Ian, he needs to be on his best behavior. He’s not. He’s unapologetically not when he sees Ian again and talks about what Damon is. Ian looks less than comfortable with it, but that’s not why they ditch him—it’s because he might get Mickey caught with his behavior. Even breaking out happened once he was able to solidify an opportunity working for a cartel, so while Ian may have been another catalyst (besides the obvious desire to get out of prison), the decision wasn’t about devotion to him. The only decision that was about that was the one he made at the border to let Ian go without making him feel worse about it. He’s devoted to Ian, so he knows that dragging him along on the run into the unknown won’t be good for him. He needs stability and a support system and medication, none of which Mickey can provide if they cross that border together. So, out of his devotion, he lets Ian go. They have a heartfelt goodbye and separate for what they think is the last time.

Does Mickey’s devotion lead him to turning himself in? Absolutely. But not before spending another long stint living his own life. The writers make sure we know that he had a life without Ian playing a role in it, once again conducting business and operating successfully on his own merits. They’re limited in what they can show because Noel wasn’t available, which made logistics important, but they didn’t leave him high and dry or insinuate that he was waiting around in Mexico for an excuse to return to Ian. He was once again a successful businessman in the illicit economy. When he returns in s10, his storyline does then appear to revolve around devotion to Ian more—but it doesn’t. Mickey has people he hangs out with in prison separate from Ian and with no ties to him. With the Byron situation, it wasn’t about proving devotion for Ian when he thought Ian questioned it—it was about hurting Ian because of what happened at the courthouse, even after he found out what Ian was really afraid of. If the writers were only interested in showing his devotion to Ian, he would have ditched Byron the second Ian told him that he was scared of his disorder and ruining them. He doesn’t. He sticks it out because Mickey is so much more than his relationship with Ian: he’s independent, vengeful, hot-headed, impulsive, and stubborn. These are traits that have been set up by the writers throughout the series both with and without ties to their relationship, and he very adamantly adheres to his revenge-plot-turned-catalyst-for-Ian-pulling-his-head-out-of-his-ass because he isn’t all about devotion to Ian.

I completely respect your opinion on the matter and appreciate the opportunity to discuss it at length! Ultimately, it boils down to this for me: the writers get a lot off flack for some of the narrative decisions and, of course, they won’t always be to our liking. Opinions and preferences assure us of that. I don’t think it’s about us being more realistic or more capable of analyzing a character, though. Everything above was written. It wasn’t spelled out and handed to us, no, but the writers put it there so that we could then analyze it. There’s no analyzing a blank slate or someone whose only narrative is devotion to Ian. The writers have given us a wealth of things to consider when it comes to all the characters, Mickey included, and we wouldn’t be able to have this conversation if they didn’t. Mickey is intelligent, thoughtful, insightful, and more than capable of standing on his own two feet as both a fictional person and a character. If he chose Ian, then it’s because he has weighed all these things and found them to be nothing in the grand scheme of their love for one another. Again, though, we can agree to disagree. Thank you for this ask—I find myself writing more about Ian, so I had a lot of fun thinking back over the series to answer it! 😃🧡

[shelbyiimited]

Worth It | Thomas Shelby x reader

warnings: daddy issues lol, mentions of substance abuse, alcohol, age gap (legal ofc)

a/n: this may or may not be sumn im actually going thru but as i said before i seek validation through fictional characters especially tommy he’s my comfort character :,)

“Dad’s getting married. Got new kids and everything.”

You paused at your brothers words, not taking your eyes off him.

“Jesus, I pity them really,” You scoffed.

“I wouldn’t,” Your brother stated, wiping his mouth with a napkin, “heard he’s a changed man, treats ‘em all well, sober too.” he added, taking another bite from his plate.

You heart sank at his words. You hadnt talked to or seen your dad in over 6 years, nor did you want to. But for some reason the thought of him having a new family hurt more than it should have.

Growing up, it was only your brother, you, and your father. Your mother had died while giving birth to you. The death of your mother broke him, your own father blamed you for his wife’s death and there was nothing you or your brother, Robert, could do about it.

Years passed and nothing changed. Robert, who is only 4 years your senior, practically had to raise you. Your dad only ever came home to sleep and even that wasn’t promised.

When he wasn’t working, he basically lived in pubs, getting drunk or high off whatever he could lay his hands on.

He spent most of the money he earned working in factories on alcohol, leaving you and Robert with only enough money to pay rent. Your fathers ignorance forced your brother to give up his childhood. Instead of playing with friends, he was running around doing chores trying to earn as much money as possible so he could put food on the table.

Once you turned 14, you started working too. Robert was finally 18 which meant he could get a real job at the factories. It was dangerous work but with a limited education, it was the best he could do.

You and Robert were doing quite well considering your situation. Robert was making enough money so you didn’t have to rely on your dad anymore, though the extra money didn’t hurt. Once you and Robert were somewhat financially stable you started seeing your father less and less. Until one day, when you were 16, you came home from a long day of chores to find a note from your father.

It didn’t say much. Just basically letting you know that he was leaving and he wasn’t coming back and to your surprise, he said he was sorry for how he treated you and that him leaving is the best thing for all of you, you agreed.

Now, you were 22, working as the Thomas Shelby’s secretary and Robert was a Peaky Blinder. Being apart of the gang was probably more dangerous than working in a factory but the pay was good and you and Robert were under the Shelby’s protection. Thomas Shelby was eveb nice enough to offer you a job when you were fired from your last place of employment. You really couldn’t complain.

You and Robert each had your own flats but would meet once a week for dinner, just to catch up and enjoy each other’s company. But unfortunately this weeks dinner was ruined with the news of your fathers engagement.

You took a sip of wine and set your glass down, gathering your plate and silverware, “Hey, i’m gonna go on a walk, I need some fresh air.” You said, getting up from your spot at the table and heading towards the kitchen.

“I’ll come with you.” Robert said, confused at your sudden change of emotions.

“No, i’ll be okay, I promise.”

“Ok, i’ll clean up.” And with that you grabbed your coat and headed out the door.

The air was so cold it took your breath away but you didn’t care. After walking for a few minutes, you paused, deciding that you really need to take in what Robert told you. Tears started rolling down your cheeks once you really thought about it. Your father made your life a living hell, why were you so upset?

Wiping your tears away, you felt around the pockets of you coat, looking for some sort of distraction. You realized you had an extra set of keys to the office, Tommy gave you a set just incase you ever wanted to come in early or stay late.

And with that, you knew where to go next. You figured you would go in an get a head start on tomorrow’s work.

To your surprise, the door was unlocked. You didn’t expect anyone to still be there, the office closed 3 hours ago.

“Who’s there?”

His words broke the eerie silence that fell over the room, it was your boss, Thomas Shelby.

“It’s y/n.” You rubbed your eyes, trying to hide the fact that you’d been crying.

“Y/n?” He came around the corner, leaning his shoulder against the wall, a glass of whiskey in his hand, “What are you doing here?”

“Sorry, I didn’t think anyone was going to be here, I just thought i’d come in and get some of tomorrow’s work done.” You rambled on, feeling small under his gaze.

“Is everything all right?” He walked over to you, noticing your puffy eyes.

“Yeah,” you chuckled, wiping your eyes one more time, “everything’s fine.”

“Follow me.” he turned around and headed towards his office, you not far behind.

“Take a seat.” He pointed to the chairs in front of his desk as he poured a second glass of whiskey, also refilling his own.

He made his way over to you, handing you the drink.

“Thanks.” You smiled.

“Now are you going to tell me what’s really bothering you?” He took a seat in the chair next to you, keep his eyes focused on your movements.

“It’s just my father.” You sighed, taking a sip from your glass.

“I thought he was out of your life?” He raised an eyebrow, still maintaining eye contact.

“He is.”

“But?”

“But, Robert told me he’s getting married, has new kids as well.”

He nodded.

“Apparently he’s sober now too.” You gently whirled your glass, trying to keep distracted with the swirling liquid.

“I don’t know, I guess I don’t have any room to be upset but how could he just move on like that?” You finally made eye contact with the older man in front of you.

“He’s changed and everything which means he’s always had it in him, why couldn’t he change for me and Robert? Huh?” you didn’t even notice the tears streaming down your cheeks this time, you were too angry.

“Were,” your voice broke, “were we not worth it?” You looked back down at your glass, wiping your tears.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overshare.”

“Hey,” you felt his hand gently guide your face, giving you no other choice but to look at him, “don’t apologize.”

You couldn’t hold back your tears anymore, you fell forward into Tommy’s welcoming arms. He ran his hand through your hair as he held you.

“Don’t ever apologize.” Is all he said. He just sat there, holding you, giving you all the time you needed.

After a few minutes, you were ready to let go, the tears finally stopped.

Even though he made it clear he wanted to listen, you still felt humiliated at the fact that you just broke down in your bosses arms. All you wanted to do was go home and sleep.

“Thank you for listening, really.” You quickly stood up from your seat, straightening out your skirt and blouse.

“Can I walk you home?”

“I’d like that.”

You walked home in a comfortable silence, your arm interlocked with his. Unfortunately, your walk was cut short when you reached your flat, the light was still on. Robert must’ve stayed over, waiting for you.

“This is me.” You smiled.

“Right.”

Once you unlocked your door, you turned towards him, “Goodnight, Mr. Shelby.” and with that you turned to go inside.

“Y/n?”

His words caused you to turn your attention back on him.

“You’re worth it. Don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise.”

You felt your cheeks getting warm at his words, there was something about his tone that made your stomach do flips.

“Thank you,” your eyes softened, “that means a lot.”

“Goodnight, y/n.”

Of course he was just your boss but after tonight, he felt like something more.

2nd a/n: i feel like this lowkey sucks but i just wanted to post something :(

taglist:

• @captivatedbycillianmurphy

• @trippymadds

• @sweatydragoncloudknight

• @tlfshelby1

• @theamuz

• @haphazardhufflepuff

[imaginethathaikyuu]

another dono request for @karlitabi-rrito! thank you for donating and letting me write this for you in return! it was super fun and i really hope you enjoy it :)

if you would like a personal scenario, headcanon or a match up, please visit this post for information on charity donation requests 

daichi sawamura x fem reader (who is asahi’s sister) (characters are aged up to be in college cuz thats the age range i prefer writing abt but it hardly matters) word count: 2845

-

When you had something to hide, it was always easy to keep it hidden. 

Well, until it wasn’t. 

You remembered the day your brother introduced you to his best friends like it was yesterday - which, let’s be clear, it was not. It was two years ago when you were surrounded by a group of boys, most of them looming over you in stature, while your brother guarded you like he was your watch dog. 

To be fair, Asahi Azumane was a great brother and an even better friend, and you were the only one who got to see both of those sides of him. When it came to you, his prized sister, he was observant and protective. He saw the look you gave to one of his greatest friends - the one with the number one on his chest and the kindest eyes you had ever seen. And that was when he had to set some guidelines. 

Tanaka and Nishinoya were already frothing at the mouth over you, so Asahi had every right to stand between you and the group of college boys and give all of them their own personal glare. 

“Off limits. She’s my sister, and she’s off limits. Respect that.” 

But maybe that was a bit too harsh. He saw their scared faces - especially on the first years - and he automatically felt bad. 

“...Please.” 

Your giggle could be heard by the entire team, and the only one you could see from behind Asahi - Number One - smiled at you. It was kind and knowing and pretty, and for some reason, you couldn’t look away from it.  

“Well,” the boy said, finally breaking your staring contest to look at Asahi instead. “Could you at least let us introduce ourselves? It would be rude not to.” 

“Oh. Yeah. Right.” He was feeling nervous, you could tell. He definitely wasn’t one for public speaking - and speaking to his entire volleyball team was classified as public to him. “I forgot to mention this, but the whole reason she’s here is to give us some management help. She’s basically going to be a team manager, I guess, since the upperclassmen are now finished. Uh… so, yeah, this is Y/N.” 

He stepped to the side and tried to stop feeling awkward, and you only laughed at how awkward he looked. And the team was far too nervous to greet you, which only made it worse. 

Well, most of the team. Just like you suspected, Number One was the first to step forward. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N - I’m Sawamura Daichi, the team’s new Captain.” 

He said it with a genuine smile and he held his hand out to shake yours; when you took it, his other hand clasped over yours for the warmest handshake you’d ever had. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Captain,” you said with a light laugh - you didn’t miss when his brow raised. 

“Please - call me Daichi.” 

You figure the exchange should have been awkward - what, with your brother watching over you - but it wasn’t. Daichi was as friendly as his eyes looked and as warm as the handshake he had given you. It made it hard to feel awkward around him. 

You learned that more and more the months that followed. Daichi was warm in every sense of the word, and he was far too easy to get close to for there to be any preset boundaries between you. He made it easy to overlook them. He made it too simple to step over the line. 

Being a manager for the team he was the captain of meant the two of you got to spend a lot of time together, and it was normal for a captain and a team manager to be close. He often met with you after practice so you could communicate things from the coach or anything you noticed about how they were playing, and both of you were always early so you could plan out the needs of the day. But that time was spent with blushing cheeks and lingering touches, knowing looks and bated breath, blurring lines and growing feelings. 

It started when Daichi began asking you about your day before asking about practice. It started when you offered him your number “for emergencies.” It started when he walked you to your dorm, meaning for it to be a one time thing but making it a habit. 

Goodnight messages turned into good morning texts. Accidental touches turned purposeful. Secret glances turned into meaningful looks. 

All without your brother’s knowledge. 

A quiet evening in the gym would be the setting for the night that set the standard for what your future relationship with Daichi would look like. 

You had wandered to the middle of the room and sat down in the center, just for fun, and Daichi joined you. He was freshly showered and rightfully exhausted from practice, but he’d rather stay with you than turn in early. 

You sat across from each other, sitting close enough to send your brother into a panic attack. That thought was always in the back of your mind during moments like this. 

Daichi’s hand slid into yours, and you immediately felt warm. He was always so warm. 

“...Asahi would kill me if he saw this. If he knew…” 

You hung onto his every word. “If he knew what?” 

He shook his head and squeezed your hand, trying to find a way to speak through the lump in his throat. “About my feelings for you.” He avoided looking at you until he got the words out, and when his eyes found yours he couldn’t look away. “This… is probably wrong. I shouldn’t -” 

“He’s only my brother,” you argued. “He doesn’t own me. What he doesn’t know… won’t hurt him.” 

Daichi nodded, speechless. Nervous. 

You moved even closer to him. Your faces were inches apart. “This isn’t wrong,” you said. “My feelings for you… aren’t wrong.”

“So it wouldn’t be wrong to kiss you?” 

Instead of answering, you pressed your lips to his. 

The kiss was as special as most first kisses are, but when it ended, a condition was to be made. 

“He can’t find out,” Daichi said without thinking, and you agreed just the same. 

That was two years ago. Back then, two of you weren’t even in your fourth year, though you were just about to be. 

Now, you had graduated from university. Daichi and Asahi’s college volleyball careers were over. You shared an apartment with your brother. And your relationship with his best friend was still a secret to him. 

Even worse, the relationship was blossoming right under his nose. Every time Daichi came to visit Asahi, the two of you snuck kisses when he went to the other room. You had even snuck Daichi in from the fire escape more than once. 

And you weren’t just hiding from Asahi - you were keeping it from everyone. For your brother to not find out, it meant no one could find out. No friends. No family. No one.

It was hard to only be in a relationship when others weren’t looking. It didn’t do a good job at making the two of you feel valid in your endeavors, and while sneaking around was fun and exciting at night, the awkward guilt ridden mornings weren’t worth it. Having to pretend you don’t know everything about Daichi for the sake of keeping up the act wasn’t worth it. Having to watch him pretend to be interested in other girls when the guys were around and asking him about his love life wasn’t worth it. 

Keeping the love of your life a secret wasn’t worth it. 

But, like most bad things, you ignored it because it was easier that way. You’d rather have a secret relationship with Daichi than none at all; you’d rather your brother keep his best friend than find out he’d been betrayed by him for two years; you’d rather keep it behind closed doors for his sake, because you couldn’t handle hurting your own brother. 

Except, you were starting to slip up. Small mistakes, like making comments about Daichi you shouldn’t be making; letting Asahi see the photo of you and Daichi that was your phone’s wallpaper; accidentally calling him babe while your brother was in earshot. 

They were rookie mistakes. You knew better than to slip like that. And you and Daichi had multiple conversations about it - you were going to be more careful. 

Well, you would have been more careful. If you had the chance to. 

Your brother was away on a business trip for work and wouldn’t be home for the weekend - that gave you and Daichi the chance to play house for a few days. Being lovers of cliches, you were currently laying on his chest on the couch while a cheesy movie played in the background. It was peaceful and loving and warm, just like every moment spent with Daichi. He was safe and secure and yours; he was your happy place embodied. 

You were savoring it, because moments like these didn’t come often. 

Until the apartment door opened. 

You knew only one person would be walking into your apartment. Hell, you hoped it was someone trying to rob you and not the person you actually knew it was - surely Daichi could scare a thief off, but there was no way in hell he’d scare away your equally scary-when-mad brother. 

You sat up fast, shaking Daichi to wake him up, but it was too late. The moment the door opened it was too late. There was only a short hallway separating the living room from the foyer, and you had to cross that hallway to get to your bedroom, so hiding Daichi there was out of the question. 

There was nowhere to hide when your brother walked into the living room to see you straddling his best friend on the couch. You didn’t even have the chance to tell Daichi what happened, but Asahi’s booming voice cleared things up for him. 

“What… in the world… are the two of you doing?” 

He didn’t even sound mad - he was nothing but shocked. At first. 

“That better be someone who looks like Daichi,” he said to you, “because if it isn’t a look alike, I’m going to freak out.” 

“Asahi,” you tried, stumbling to your feet and approaching him like you’d approach an angry bear - which your brother was resembling at the moment. “Don’t get mad.” 

And he completely ignored you, walking around you to face Daichi, who had stood up with you. 

“Sawamura. What part of off limits don’t you get?!” 

Daichi said nothing, and you said nothing, and Asahi was looking back and forth between you two waiting for something. 

“I’m sorry,” you said, but it was no use. You knew what was coming. 

“You know, I expected it from Nishinoya or Tanaka - hell, maybe even Sugawara! But you? Daichi - you?” 

You saw Daichi break then. You watched any resolve he had crumble to nothing. He still had nothing to say. That wasn’t like him. 

Instead, he just let Asahi ramble. He took the brunt of it trying his best to look Asahi in the eye out of respect, but at some point his eyes were cast to the floor and he looked as if he couldn’t keep listening. 

“And you!” Asahi exclaimed, turning to give you a piece of his mind. “My best friend?! You went after my best friend? Out of all the guys in this city, you choose the one I don’t want you to date?!”

His words hit you like a slap to the face, and you were about to argue when Daichi spoke. 

“Don’t - it’s not her fault, don’t blame her. This was all my fault, I knew better but I still pursued her and I’m sorry, Asahi, I’m so sorry. I never meant for this to happen.”

“How long?” Asahi asked, and when he got no answer he asked again. “How long has this been going on?” 

Both of you stuttered out, “two years,” making Asahi groan loud. 

“Dammit. Goddammit.” 

He didn’t curse often, especially in front of you, so you were expecting something awful to come after that. 

“What?” you asked, pressing him to just get it over with. 

“Now I have to let you stay together!” 

Daichi pressed him this time. “...What?” 

“If this was just some stupid fling I could make you stop,” Asahi replied, now pacing back and forth and seeming to be talking to himself. “But no - two years?! What the hell?!” 

“We’re sorry -” 

“Save it,” he snapped, and though his tone was harsh the look he gave to you wasn’t. “Two years. You’ve been sneaking around for two whole years?” 

“...Yeah.”

“Yep.” 

“God. I should have known when I saw you guys together so much in university. I swear I saw this coming. Dammit.” 

The room fell to silence, with you watching Daichi and Daichi staring at the floor and Asahi pacing back and forth like he had gone mad. Neither you nor Daichi knew what to do, but Daichi had a feeling he’d be forced to leave if he didn’t go himself. 

“Okay, well… I - I apologize again, Asahi, but I understand if you don’t forgive me for this. I’ll see myself out -” 

“Don’t you dare - you’re not just going to leave my sister, are you?!” 

Daichi was completely taken aback and froze in place - Asahi was being far too brave and it was nothing short of abnormal and scary. 

“I - I just thought -”

“So now that I find out about this relationship you’ve got going on, you’re just going to leave her? Do you want me to be pissed off?!”

“I - no, I don’t -” 

And you had to step in and save your boyfriend. “Asahi.” 

“If you think I’m going to force you guys to break up, you’re wrong. Honestly, I’m offended you think that. Is that why you hid it from me?” 

No answer. 

“What do you guys think of me, anyway? I would never force you apart. Well, maybe I would, but… not after two years of a relationship.” 

Though his words were reassuring, he was still looking at Daichi with a hard stare, and Daichi was still on edge. 

“We can talk about this more tomorrow. I need to go to bed.” 

Obviously, Asahi just wanted to escape the situation. He’d probably just realized the weight of it all, and now a pit of anxiety was forming in his stomach. But you were glad to see him leave to his bedroom - he needed to calm down, and you needed to make sure your boyfriend was okay. 

Even after your brother left, Daichi didn’t speak. He didn’t even look at you. You had to approach him yourself. 

“Are you okay?” you whispered, hardly confident in your voice. 

Daichi shook his head. “I’m a terrible friend,” he replied. 

“Yeah, and I’m a terrible sister. We’re in the same boat, babe.” 

He didn’t reply and it worried you, and you were sure this was the end. Daichi obviously felt bad for betraying his friend’s trust - was he going to break up with you as a way to attempt to make it all better?

You stood there waiting, but he didn’t make the wait long. His hand soon slid into yours, and it was as nervously as the first time he held your hand. But it was just as warm, too. 

“We’re okay,” he stated - he sounded as if he’d just decided it. “Everything… is okay. Right?” 

“Seems like it,” you mumbled. “We’re still standing. He didn’t do what we thought he’d do…”

“I don’t even know why we thought that…” Daichi sighed. “We’ll have to make it up to him.” 

Making it up to Asahi consisted of breakfast the next morning, as well as a lengthy conversation explaining your reasoning for sneaking around. And Asahi listened. He understood. He even told you that he thought you were a cute couple. 

It made you realize you had been taking your brother for granted all this time; instead of seeing his caring, understanding nature, you only saw your own fear and anxiety. You’d spent so long skirting around him and trying to present something that wasn’t real to him that you hardly knew how to be honest with him. 

And that did hurt him. He did feel betrayed by Daichi and lied to by you - even so, it was okay. You were both family. You both love him, and you two loving each other was only a plus. And he would be okay as long as the two of you were, too. 

While a part of you would always miss the thrill of sneaking around, there was nothing better than proudly being with Daichi, and now that your relationship wasn’t so weighed down, you could finally grow together. 

But it wasn’t all great, because you had found a new weight on your shoulders no sooner than you had lost the previous one. 

Asahi had just finished his breakfast when he looked up at the two of you. “Well, since it’s been two years,” he said, “when’s the wedding?” 

Daichi looked more afraid than when Asahi caught the two of you together. 

“We’ll talk about it.” 

[mldrgrl]

A Few Thousand Plus One

by: mldrgrl Rating: PG Summary: Written for the fic is medicine @xfficchallenges prompt 3 - Mulder tries to convince Scully to go on a date with him.

Even if they sat down and really thought about it, it would probably be impossible to count just how many diners they’d been to in how many different towns across America.  State to state, not much changes, from the greasy food to the haggard servers to the decadent chocolate milkshakes that Mulder pretends to order for himself, but passes them off to Scully after taking a skim off the top.  

They were somewhere outside Norfolk, on their way home, when they stopped for dinner at a promising-looking diner off the road.  It looked like it ticked Scully’s main boxes at least: clean and clean.

It was a Saturday night, so seating was limited, but they were able to snag a booth next to the front windows after a short wait.  Mulder grinned happily at the the straw dispenser at their table as he slid into the red vinyl seating.  It never failed to amuse him the way the straws would fan out for selection and then collapse when he lifted the lid up and down.  Kitschy vintage appliances were amongst some of his favorite toys.

Scully usually used the time spent at these dinners to go over her notes at the end of a case and Mulder used it to people watch and charm the waitresses into bottomless glasses of iced tea.  While they waited for their burgers, Scully’s pen moved furiously over the pages of her already carefully cultivated report and Mulder kept his eye on a couple of teenagers at the next booth over.

“Hey,” Mulder said.  “Scully.”

“Hm,” she answered, making a noise of acknowledgment without really paying attention.”

“Hey.”

“Hm.”

Mulder pulled a straw out from the dispenser and peeled the end of the paper cover off one side.  He put the exposed plastic end in his mouth and blew, sending the paper sailing towards Scully, which she easily deflected with the flick of her wrist.

“What do you want?” she asked.

He leaned closer and whispered conspiratorially, “I think those kids behind you are on a first date.”

Scully gave a subtle glance over her shoulder as she shook the pen in her hand and then hovered back over her notes.  “What makes you say that?”

“It’s awkward as hell.  They’re not even talking to each other, just looking at each other every so often, and then away.  The boy keeps pulling at the collar of his letterman jacket.”

“I suppose you were a regular casanova at what, 16, 17?”

Mulder shrugged.  “I pulled my share.”

“Mmhm.”

The teen facing Mulder had dirty blonde hair and cystic acne.  He spent a lot of time looking up at the ceiling or at the table.  Mulder couldn’t see much of his date, aside from her dark hair pulled back into a clip.  Scully blocked most of the view, but even the back of the girl’s head looked bored.

“I don’t even remember the last time I went on a date,” Scully said, a little off-handedly.  “It’d probably be just as awkward.”

“Why do you say that?”

“What would I even talk about at this point?  That time a man-sized flukeworm attacked the good citizens of New Jersey or the latest alien abduction data posted in our early edition of The Lone Gunmen?”

“Scully, I’m hurt you’d share alien abduction data with anyone but me.  That’s our thing.”

That earned him a bit of a smile as she turned a page in her notes.  His eyes bounced from the teens to Scully and the teens to her papers.

“What if I took you out?” he asked.

“We are out.”

“Out out.  Like a date, out.”

“Oh, that’s not what this is?”

“I’m serious.”

“Come on, Mulder.”

“I am!”

Three little creases formed above Scully’s right eyebrow as it arched upwards and she raised her eyes to him.  She stopped marking her paper, but didn’t put down her pen.  “That’s just ridiculous,” she said.

“Why?”

“Because we work together. We’re partners.”

“I think you’re just afraid of how good of a date I am.”

She suppressed a smile as she scoffed and then shook her head.  “Mulder, when was the last time you even went on a date?”

“Totally irrelevant.  I’ll have you know I am an excellent date.”

“On what do you base that?”

“I open doors, I bring flowers, I pull out chairs, the whole nine yards.”  Mulder cocked his head as Scully’s face wrinkled as though she’d smelled something bad.  “What’s that look?”

“Mulder, I think you’re confusing dating with being exceedingly polite.”

“It starts with being polite, but then you have to make good conversation. And I’m great at making conversation.”

“About Bigfoot and liver-eating mutants?”

“Hey, if that’s what you want to talk about, who am I to stop you?  Great conversation also includes being a good listener.”

Now, Scully laughed out loud.  “I might be tempted to take you up on your ridiculous offer just to see that.”

“It’s not a ridiculous offer, it’s just an offer.”

A moment passed where Scully’s expression turned from amusement to chagrin, almost as though she’d thought she hurt his feelings by rejecting him.  She nervously flicked her hair away from her face and made a false start to respond.

“Burger medium rare,” interrupted the waitress, sliding a plate in front of Mulder.  “Chicken sandwich for the lady.”

Scully quickly gathered her notes out of the way of the incoming plate and stuffed them into her satchel.

“Chocolate shake will be out in a minute,” the waitress added.  “Can I get you folks anything else?”

This was usually Mulder’s cue to say something like ‘Dolores, I know I probably shouldn’t ask, but if you could find a pitcher of iced tea behind the counter, I would be forever indebted to you.’  But, he didn’t say anything.

“He’ll have another iced tea,” Scully said.

“Coming right up.”

“Thanks,” Mulder said, as the waitress walked away.

“I got impatient waiting for you to turn on the charm and do it yourself.”

“I don’t flirt with other ladies on a date.”

“Mulder, this isn’t a date.”

“It could be like a dress rehearsal date.”

“Do I need to remind you that not five minutes ago you blew a straw at me?  That’s something you do in an elementary school cafeteria, not on a date.”

“We weren’t on our date yet, so it doesn’t count.”

“We’re not on a date now, so it doesn’t matter.”

Mulder brooded over his burger while Scully arranged her chicken sandwich to her liking, removing most of the lettuce and scraping off the excess of mayonnaise from the top bun.  Dolores came and went after dropping off the chocolate shake and iced tea.  Scully pushed the tall, frozen glass over to Mulder in offering, but he shook his head and pushed it back.  Silence prevailed, and so did awkwardness.

“Mulder, are you going to pout about this all night?”

“Give me one good reason why you won’t go on a date with me?”

“I already have.  We work together.”

“Workplace romances are so prevalent they’re cliche.  That’s not a good reason.”

“Yes, I know.  I’ve had my share of workplace romances and they’ve ended badly.  And I think you have as well.  I don’t want that for us.”

“One date.  What’s the worst that could happen?”

“We could enjoy ourselves.”

“Your worst case scenario is that we could have a good time?”

“Yes.  It would be.”

“That is like the epitome of cynicism.”

Scully put down the sandwich she was picking at and wiped her hands on a napkin.  She took a moment to finish chewing and swallowed.  Mulder stared at her, eating steak fries and waiting for whatever retort she was working up.

“Mulder, let’s say we go on this date, and you are exceedingly polite, and we talk and we laugh and you walk me to my door and maybe I even let you kiss me goodnight and then what?  Because what you’re offering is just one date, but what happens if we want more?  What happens if we go on a second date, and then a third?  What happens if we sleep together?  What happens when we can’t go back from what was only supposed to be one date?”

“Would it be so bad, Scully, to want more?”

“Would you risk the x-files over one date?”

“Why would I have to?”

“Because they could split us up or we could split ourselves up over this and...they’re my files too.”

Mulder smiled.  “You’re saying you’d fight me for custody?”

“It’s not funny.”

“It is funny, though.  Scully, I think you like werewolves and mothmen.”

Scully pulled her milkshake towards her with a little too much force and it spilled over the top onto her hand.  “Shut up, Mulder.”  He smiled around a steak fry as she licked her fingers clean before wiping them with a napkin.

“What is a date, really?” Mulder asked once she had her mouth full of chicken sandwich and couldn’t answer.  “It’s two people sharing a meal together, or their time, getting to know each other better.  By that logic, Scully, we’ve already been on a thousand dates.”

She shook her head in disagreement.  “We spend time as coworkers.”

“Never as friends?”

“Sometimes.  But, not lovers.”

“I know times have changed, but isn’t dating still a precursor to becoming lovers more often that not?”

“You’re not gonna win this argument, Mulder.”

“I already have.”

“When?”

“When you told me to shut up.”

Scully huffed in annoyance.  The teenagers caught Mulder’s eye again and he surreptitiously watched the boy turn about three shades of red as he splattered ketchup over his plate.  He could hear both kids laughing.  He hoped the girl was laughing with the boy and not at him.

Mostly finished with his burger, Mulder slid out from his side of the booth and moved to Scully’s side.  She paused, her mouth open for a bite of her sandwich, and watched him slide towards her.  The closer he got, she leaned away.

“What’re you doing?” she asked.

“One date.”

“You just said we’d already been on thousands of them.”

“Well, then, what’s one more?”

“Why now?”

“Why not?”

“Answer the question and maybe I’ll say yes.”

“Because I’ve shared thousands of meals with you and I know your shoe size, but I can’t tell you what your favorite color is.”

“We don’t need to go on a date for you to find that out.”

“Maybe not, but at the very least we could both say the last time we went out with someone wasn’t when Reagan was in office, if asked.  And who else are we gonna date?  I mean, you could take your pick of any of the lab guys that geek out over you every time we come down for analysis, or one of the stud detectives that watch you walk away from a crime scene with a little drool at the side of their mouths, or Frohike.  Let’s not forget Frohike.”

“None of that is true, Mulder.”

“It is.  You just don’t notice.”

“Well, I’m not interested in any of them.”

“Maybe all I can offer you is politeness and scintillating conversation about lake monsters and the chupacabra, but it has to be better than nothing, right?  I mean...I think I’m better than nothing.”

“Of course you are.”

“I’ll even wait until date three to bring up the Mongolian death worm.”

“Mongolian death worm?”

“Ah ah, have to buy the cow if you want the milk.”

Scully responded with a roll of her eyes.  She hadn’t rejected him again though.  Mulder stole a sip of her milkshake and then went back to his side of the booth.  Eventually, he flagged the waitress down to get their check and he paid for it with his own cash and not the bureau card, which didn’t go unnoticed by Scully.  He took her satchel and held the door open for her as they walked out, which wasn’t unusual, but it stood out to her.

Their rental car was at the far end of the parking lot.  Scully slipped her hand around Mulder’s bicep and held him loosely as they walked.  Strolled, really, as he almost came to a stop when she did it.

“No diners,” she said.  “Nothing too fancy either.  I like Italian and I like ambiance.  You can pick me up, but you don’t need to bring flowers.  My favorite color is green.”

“Got it.  Green, really?”

She shrugged, let go of him as they reached the car, and took her satchel back.  She went her way to the passenger side and he went ahead to the driver’s door.  The locks were automatic on the keyring and he held it up to open both sides with one click.  She opened her door.

“Hey,” he said to her over the roof of the car.

“Yes?”

“Just thought you should keep in mind, I’m a really good kisser too.”

Her eyebrow shot higher than he’d ever seen it and she took a glance down at his mouth.  “So am I,” she said, and got into the car.

The End

[prettywordsyouleft]

With A Bow On Top

Summary: After giving birth to your daughter three months ago, the life of being a new Mum meant you weren’t as prepared for Seunghoon’s Christmas present this year.

Pairing: Lee Seunghoon x reader

Genre: Christmas au / parent au / suggestive / fluff

Warnings: mentioning of smut but not in depth at all.

A/N: The final story in the Christmas in July series that I’ve been collaborating with @this-song-thats-only-for-you​ over is a little bit spicy. I wanted to write about a topic that would affect a lot of new mothers so I hope you enjoy this with a festive spin on it!

Word count: 2419

** This story takes place in the “Late for Christmas” world. You can read this apart from the other two stories in this world, but if you’d like the full picture, the links are just below.

Late for Christmas |  New Year, New Adventure

Normally you had an idea of what to buy Seunghoon each year. Some of the time that came from not so subtle hints from him, or something would appear in front of you when gift hunting and you would just know that was something your husband would love to receive. However, this was the first Christmas that would be different.

There had been a few changes lately so you really did have to give yourself some credit for being at a loss on what to get him. As a new Mum, you didn’t have as much time as you had in the past to go out and shop at various places with leisure. Your daughter, as much as you adored her, was easily fussy and outings were still stressful for you to do alone. Sure, Seunghoon had to work so you could go out with your Mum to search for the perfect gift with her assistance, but you still hadn’t been successful.

So this year you would have to take the uninspired route.

You approached Seunghoon after dinner with your daughter in one arm. Resigned. For some reason, you already felt as if you had failed this year to make it as special as every other had been.

Seunghoon glanced at you, his smile widening for you both until he noticed your expression. His brows knitted together, now perplexed. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“What do you want for Christmas this year?” you asked hurriedly, looking away as you finished the statement. You felt guilty for asking and his silence only made your thoughts heavier. Turning back to glance at your husband, you sighed. “I don’t have a single idea this year to surprise you with.”

His smile grew again, and the light within his eyes relaxed you somewhat. You rearranged the four month old in your arms in anticipation for a cheesy line to come out of his mouth. Ever since your daughter was born, he had stepped up with some incredibly cringe-worthy lines, making you laugh or shudder depending on the mood. Right now, you expected him to say, ‘I already have the best gifts standing right before me’, or something of the like.

But he didn’t say that. In fact, what he said was brief yet impacting. You blinked. “What did you say?”

“I want you for Christmas,” Seunghoon repeated, the gaze he now gave you drying out your throat. You knew that stare all too well. The message was clear.

Yet you brushed it off, giggling a little. “Don’t be so silly, I meant as a present. That isn’t a gift at all when you’ve had it many times during our relationship.”

“And you’re the proof of that, aren’t you,” he cooed, scooping your daughter into his arms.

You rolled your eyes at his response and placed a hand on your hip. “Hoon, I need an actual answer.”

“I gave you one.”

“What about something for your music or gaming or have you seen any clothes you would like lately?”

He shook his head once, still playing with the infant within his arms affectionately. However, his avoidance at giving you a proper answer irked you. You whined and he finally glanced in your direction. “Y/N, I told you what I want. I know being a mother has changed your relationship with your body but I miss you. I want you as my Christmas present. With a bow on top.”

The smirk that played upon his lips made you blush.

“I’m being serious right now.”

Seunghoon tilted his head as if that would help you understand his feelings. He chuckled a little incredulously. “Babe, so am I. I want you. That’s it. Now I’m going to take this little Miss off to bed and give you a chance to relax, or plan how you’re going to execute my gift.”

With a final look in your direction, your husband left you to contemplate his request. You wanted to scoff, to deny it and come up with a better plan. Yet you knew where Seunghoon was coming from. Having your daughter had been one of the most beautiful experiences in your life. However, Seunghoon was right; your body was different now. You were proud of it for carrying your child safely but you weren’t as confident with it post-partum. It had taken you a while to heal from childbirth and since then you had been hesitant. It wasn’t as if you didn’t crave intimacy with Seunghoon. You loved him and knew he would cherish you, take care of you.

All the same, you didn’t think you could still have the same effect over him as you once did. It was foolish, even you could admit that.

Heading into your bedroom, you stood before your mirror, a small smile crossing your lips as you had once done the same thing before telling your husband that your body was about to change since you were carrying a life within. Now without your daughter inside of you, the reflection was yet another phase of your life. You were a wife, a mother, and it showed. The restless nights and waking up to breastfeed meant you had permanent dark circles under your eyes and your skin looked just as tired. Your hair was messily tied back from your face, stray tendrils falling away from the tie. Your shirt had a stain on it from god knows what, and you were certain you had been wearing the same pants for the past three days.

Maybe to Seunghoon you were still beautiful but in your eyes, you couldn’t see anything remotely sexy about yourself anymore.

You sighed heavily, unsure if you could fulfil his request this year.

The air outside was crisp yet indoors was warm with Christmas spirit all around. You had chosen to go out for dinner with your family two days out from Christmas since everyone wouldn’t make it for the big day, and you were currently surrounded by good food and laughter. The night was still young when you departed from the restaurant, not because you were now parents who had a child to put down to bed, in fact, tonight you wouldn’t be doing that at all. You were anxious now standing outside in the parking lot, your gaze darting around the place.

You had a lot riding on tonight.

“Okay say goodbye to Nana.” Seunghoon handed your daughter over to your mother and she looked at you before shaking her head.

“Say goodnight to Daddy instead,” she told him and your husband frowned, looking at you for information.

“Mum wanted to spend time with her granddaughter, sort of like an early Christmas present.”

“I hear you both have a lot of presents to wrap so see this as a good chance to do things you can’t with a little one around,” she encouraged with a knowing smile in your direction, her silent boost to your confidence making you smile nervously.

Although Seunghoon wasn’t entirely placated with this answer, he nodded at your mother before fussing over the small child in her arms for a final time tonight. You kissed your daughter and after saying goodbye to your parents and siblings, you climbed into the car and tried to limit any fidgeting to a bare minimum. Seunghoon was already suspicious of your behaviour and you didn’t need to give away your plans before you were ready to.

And that’s why when you got home, you immediately did as your mother suggested.

“You really let your parents babysit tonight so you could wrap presents?” he wondered, his voice thick with disbelief.

Glancing up at your husband, you gave him an easy smile. “They need to be done.”

“Yeah but…” Seunghoon glanced at the door leading to the hallway and then sighed. Sitting down beside you, he grinned instead. “Two sets of hands will get through this faster, leaving us time to do other things.”

“I like the idea of that.”

Soon, the presents were all neatly packaged and you had sung along to far too many Christmas songs. Once the last gift was placed under the tree, you smiled at Seunghoon. He reached out for you and pulled you into his arms.

“Now it’s time for us,” he announced and you shifted back just enough to shake your head. Seunghoon gaped at you. “What, do you have something else to do?”

“Of course!”

There was the large pile of laundry you hadn’t yet caught up on folding, again your husband helped with that too, albeit begrudgingly. You managed to fit in another couple of tasks and when you mentioned you were just going to take a shower and get ready for bed, Seunghoon was convinced that you two weren’t going to be on the same page about any intimacy tonight.

Slipping under the water raining over you from above, you attempted to silence your amusement. You didn’t need to give it away, and frankly, you still needed to prepare everything you had left before the grand reveal. After showering, you worked on drying yourself in front of the bathroom mirror, silently repeating the affirmations you had been all week long. You placed on the lingerie you had purchased and then threw your oversized top over it, glancing into the mirror again to ensure your surprise was hidden. And then you grabbed one more thing from out of the cabinet above the sink and ventured into your bedroom.

Seunghoon didn’t even glance up at your appearance in the bedroom, working on his laptop now that he accepted having an uneventful evening. You approached his side of the bed, leaning down so you could strike up a conversation.

Inwardly, you waited for the right moment to happen.

“What are you doing?” you asked brightly, scooting in closer so your legs were flush with the side of the bed.

Seunghoon glanced up at you and then smiled. “Work emails.”

“You’re doing them right before bed?”

“Much like you did laundry and dishes,” he replied, tone laced with a hint of bitterness.

You smiled when his hand fell instinctively to your thigh.

This was something you had hoped for. It was a habit of Seunghoon’s since he had an affinity about your thighs, and whether being seductive or affectionate, you could guarantee he would reach for you there every time. You shifted so his hand that was now rubbing mindless circles on your bare skin could reach up higher. It took a couple of minutes of casual banter, but finally, Seunghoon’s hand connected with what was hidden underneath.

He stilled, his sentence stopping midway as his eyes snapped to yours. From the angle you now held, you were certain he could see down the neck hole of your top and he moved his stare to look there as well. You smirked, he was too predictable sometimes.

“What are you wearing?” he asked, voice huskier than usual.

Now it was you who was equally affected. Fumbling to pull the item you had tucked down your back, you placed the bow on your head. Your husband’s eyes flashed with building desire and you smiled at him, pushing the laptop aside so you could sit in his lap instead.

“I know you’re not one for early presents but-”

“I’m more than ready for this one,” he squeaked out and you laughed, leaning in to kiss him. He chased away your humour with passion, kissing you with demand as his hands felt for what was hidden underneath your top. Much like when trying to decipher what a gift was sneakily through the wrapping, his nimble fingers explored all the edges they could feel, his lips now moving to your neck and anchoring on. It felt better than you ever remembered, and you moaned wantonly under his examination.

“Is this why we’re childless tonight?” he breathed and you grew meek temporarily, his husky laugh reaching right down to your core. “You’re so adorable you know that, right?”

“I know it’s normal for everyone, but it felt odd doing something so intimate as this with our daughter in the room.”

“Remind me to buy your mother flowers to thank her tomorrow,” Seunghoon mentioned and he slowly pulled the bow out of your hair, smiling hungrily at you as he discarded it across the room. He then stopped, eying you so intensely that you were thankful for being within his arms as you felt your knees go weak. He then smirked. “Time for me to unwrap my Christmas present, huh?”

You nodded, chewing on your lip anxiously. “I hope you like all the surprises within.”

Your nerves eased as soon as Seunghoon laid you down beneath him on the bedding. Something you had dreaded happening now felt euphoric. As his hands removed every layer you had on, the sexier you felt before him. The kisses over your body reconnected you with the lust you had lost over the past few months, and the moans you let sound around the room reaffirmed your need for the way Seunghoon pleasured you.

After climaxing for the second time, you fell back into the bedding heavily, spent from your lovemaking. Seunghoon rolled onto his side next to you, the smile on his lips inerasable. “You’re something else. I don’t think it’s ever been as good as that.”

“Maybe I should make you wait more often,” you teased and despite chuckling, he shook his head quickly in response.

Reaching to cup your face within his hand, he kissed your swollen lips tenderly. “You’re so beautiful, you know that, right?”

“I do.”

Because you realised now that you could be anything you wanted to be. Your body had definitely changed. And it would continue to do just that with age and further children. Your husband would still be able to make you feel like the most magical woman in his life no matter how you appeared on the outside because your connection with him wasn’t just skin deep. It reached right down into your soul and awakened your entire being.

You were beautiful, sexy even.

Seunghoon kissed your forehead and got up to get something to help you both clean up and once you were both settled back under the blankets, with sleep ebbing at the edges of your mind, you heard the small breath he took.

“You know, with my birthday coming soon and-”

You smiled lazily as you replied. “Don’t worry, I’ve got some plans on how to make that present just as good as tonight’s has been.”

_________________

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[Seasonal or Collabs Masterlist] | [WINNER Masterlist] | [Main Masterlist] | [Request Guidelines]

Christmas In July:  New Traditions // A Christmas Date // Cliche Christmas // With A Bow On Top

[galaxy-whiskers]

I was tagged by @bailandonorris, thanks!

1. what is the colour of your hair brush? 

I have a silver paddle brush which I don’t use very often, a transparent and purple swirly coloured (honestly don’t know how else to describe) afro comb, and a regular black comb.

2. name of a food you never eat? 

Tuna, can’t stand it. To be honest, I eat most things if they’re warm, but VERY fussy when it comes to cold food

3. are you typically too warm or too cold? 

Definitely too hot! I still have a fan on in the winter at night time

4. what were you doing 45 minutes ago? 

Playing Animal Crossing, tried to catch some tarantulas because Flick is on my island but the dodos don’t seem to want to send me to any decent islands so my mission was unsuccessful

5. what’s your favourite candy bar?

That’s a hard one... probably either Cadbury’s marvelous creations with the jelly beans and popping candy, darkmilk, or the one with oreos. Snickers are pretty great too, also Kinder Bueno and just Kinder chocolate in general. Basically, what I’m saying is I love chocolate

6. have you ever been to a professional sports event? 

Yes, I went to the London 2012 Olympics to watch show jumping, football and basketball! Have probably been to others? Really want to go to Wimbledon at some point but not sure when I’ll be able to do that. Does dog agility count as sport? Seen it at Crufts multiple times

7. what is the last thing you said out loud? 

‘Night night curly shoes’ - a goodnight wish for my sweet doggo Ivy

8. what is your favourite ice cream? 

I’m a fan of coconut ice cream it has to be said, also honeycomb, and your standard Ben and Jerry’s cookie dough is high up there. Really specifically, the vanilla ice cream from the waffle shop in Cirencester. To be honest, don’t eat much ice cream, not my go-to food choice because I’m lactose intolerant and a lot of it makes me feel sick just thinking about it. Has to be good!

9. what is the last thing you had to drink? 

Some water, absolute health right here (she says drinking her first glass of water all day after about 4 cans of Pepsi Max whoops)

10. do you like your wallet? 

I guess so, yes. Could probably do with a slightly more efficient one but it’s decent

11. what was the last thing you ate? 

A jazz apple from the fridge. We have no pink ladies which are the favourites but jazz are pretty tasty too

12. did you buy any new clothes last week? 

No, only virtual ones in Animal Crossing. I haven’t been clothes shopping in so long and doesn’t look like that will change anytime soon

13. last sporting event you watched? 

Honestly no idea, since all the sport has been cancelled for a while I can’t think what the last thing would have been. Probably Cheltenham races on the telly back in February or March or whenever it was?

14. what’s your favourite flavour of popcorn? 

The classic, salty cinema popcorn. Honestly the best

15. who was the last person you sent a message to? 

Strangely, someone from my secondary school who I haven’t ever spoken to over message before. She posted our leavers video on her Instagram and thought I’d message since I’d been looking for that video for  y e a r s  and sparked a conversation! She never liked me much back in school I don’t think, she was popular and I really wasn’t so I never properly spoke to her. One of my friends had a bit of drama with her, absolutely hated her, but they eventually became best pals. Also her best pal during most of school really didn’t like me for some reason... anyway, had a nice chat, strange how friendly she seems these days

16. ever go camping?

Uhh well... I’ve been 4 times, 2 of which were for D of E and I can safely say I’ve never had a good experience. First time, the people in the tent next to us got arrested at 3AM for drugs or something, second time was my dad’s 40th birthday and my brother didn’t know he was allergic to nuts so eating a cake with mixed nuts on the top didn’t go down well for him... also went to a restaurant on the way there with my granny and got a caterpillar in my salad. Third and fourth times, let’s just say D of E was one of the worst experiences of my life, I’ll leave it at that... would really like to go camping again though to have a good experience, maybe change my mind on it? I don’t know, willing to give it a try

17. do you take vitamins? 

I go through phases, sometimes I take them every day, other times I don’t take them for like 3 months

18. do you go to church every sunday? 

I used to, but as I got older I slowly went less and less until I didn’t go at all. I lost faith I guess? Kind of didn’t feel I belonged there or believed anymore. I loved singing the hymns and our vicar was an absolute lad, we also got biscuits at the end of each service, but over time I decided it wasn’t right for me to keep going. Pretty much all the people that go to ours are your typical white, posh, probably homophobic and hate children type so that put me off. Also after everything that’s happened in mine and other’s lives, I slowly lost the belief in God. If all of it was true, why would these things happen? I guess also my scientific mind was constantly telling me there’s no proof. I think the only reason I went to begin with was because it was a family thing and as a child I believed pretty much everything that was said

19. do you have a tan? 

No, certainly not... used to when I lived in the Caribbean but now I’m pretty much white as a sheet

20. do you prefer chinese food or pizza? 

A very difficult one... probably chinese? As much as I love pizza, it’s the same issue as the ice cream

21. do you drink soda with a straw? 

Nah not a fan of straws, they taste weird

22. what colour socks do you wear? 

ALL THE COLOURS! I own a pair of socks for every outfit to colour co-ordinate, my sock draw is overflowing

23. do you ever drive above the speed limit? 

Strangely, I drive under by quite a bit when no one else is around. It’s the other cars that stress me out and make me go too fast. Also I have a black box so not allowed

24. what terrifies you? 

Good question, lots of things... the sea, pools, tbh water in general, heights, rejection, the current impending doom, large open spaces with no walls I can be against, losing everyone I love, the fact that anyone might be secretly talking about me behind my back because they actually hate me, the list goes on but I won’t continue it

25. look to your left what do you see? 

An empty Pepsi Max can, a glass of water, some crocodile scissors, my Switch, a cranberry scented candle, and some tiny balls of wool

26. what chore do you hate? 

Got to be changing my bed, or washing up when the things have got cold food left on them

27. what do you think of when you hear an australian accent? 

A throwback to year 8

28. what’s your favourite soda?

Pepsi Max

29. do you go into fast food places or drive thru? 

It depends who I’m with

30. who was the last person you talked to? 

My mum about a meteor shower and satellites

31. favourite cut of beef? 

A random question... I do like a good rump steak

32. last song you listened to? 

You Make My Dreams by Hall and Oates because I’m using it in my animation project

33. last book you read? 

I’m like part way through Good Omens and have been for quite some time... I have learning difficulties and find reading a lot of effort so don’t read very often

34. can you say the alphabet backwards? 

No, it’s the kind of thing I’d have expected myself to learn at some point but never did

35. how do you like your coffee? 

I don’t like coffee so in the bin

36. favourite pair of shoes? 

My multicoloured Vans, got them in the second week of uni and I’ve loved them ever since

37. the time you normally go to bed? 

Well, currently it’s around 1AM to go to bed, 3AM to sleep. Used to be around 12/1AM sleep but the lockdown has ruined that

38. the time you normally wake up? 

Again, currently it’s around 11:30AM to wake up then 12PM to do things but used to be around 9:30/10AM. To be honest I still sometimes wake up then but I go back to sleep again because I have no reason to exist more than I need

39. what do you prefer sunrise or sunsets? 

Sunrise is always nice to watch, but I don’t like getting up early so definitely sunset, especially when you’re at a restaurant or sitting outside somewhere in the countryside

40. how many blankets are on your bed? 

Just the one duvet, but I have a soft fish patterned blanket for when I want something to cuddle with

41. describe your kitchen plates? 

We have some plain white ones and some that are white with leaves around the edges. The edges have a ridged pattern and the rims are gold

42. do you have a favourite alcoholic beverage?

I don’t drink so no

43. do you play cards? 

Yes, love a good card game! 

44. what colour is your car? 

It’s very nice Caribbean sea blue. Used to be my mum’s car, it’s her favourite colour

45. can you change a tire? 

I probably could if I had to but can’t say I’ve done it before

46. your favourite province? 

I guess that’s counties? Hometown of Gloucestershire is up there, also a fan of Devon. My favourites may have to be Caenarfonshire and Anglesey though after the road trip last year

47. favourite job you’ve had?

Not sure really, I guess it would have to be doing my art commissions

48. how did you get your biggest scar?

The biggest scar I have these days is on my right knuckle between my index and middle finger, it’s very small. I got it from when I was holding a horse still before untacking and he decided that hay was more exciting, caught my hand on a splintered wooden fence and that was that

49. what did you do today that made someone happy? 

Nothing, I’ve only seen my family and even then it was for a short time. Don’t think I make anyone happy these days ahah

It’s now 3:22AM, that took longer than I expected. ‘I’ll go to sleep early today’ I said but I say that every day. Don’t know why I keep lying to myself. 

Anyway, I guess I have to tag someone now, so I tag @duckingpunches !

[robronsecretvalentine]

Sugden-Dingle Actually

Happy Valentines Day! @weloveweird​

Sugeden-Dingle Actually

It all started with a seemingly innocent comment from Ellis during a tea break in the portacabin. He mentioned wanting to take Vic out to dinner to a new restaurant in Hotten on Valentines day and how happy he was that he’d managed to get a table.

“What are you guys up to for Valentines? Any big plans? Being newlyweds and all that.”

Aaron had scoffed at that.

“We’re not newlyweds, we got married in October.”

“That’s only a few months.” Ellis shrugged.

“It’s our anniversary next week. And it’s Liv’s birthday on the 16th so we’ve decided not to do anything special for Valentines day.” Robert told him.

Ellis raised an eyebrow at that.

“Your first valentines day as a married couple and you’re not doing anything?”

“We’re going to Liverpool for the weekend next week. See Seb and spend the day with him. And then get a hotel in the city.”

“Exactly.” Robert added before frowning at his phone screen when it started ringing. “Rebecca? Is everything ok? Is Seb alright?” He asked when he answered the call.

“Yes, he’s fine, but can you come get him please? I need you to take him for a few days.”

“Uh… ok… are you alright?” Robert asked, looking around for his car keys.

“Ross is taking me down to London for a few days for Valentines day.” She said as if that explained everything.

“Ok… and you can’t take Seb with you to London?”

“Well… no. It’s only a room for two people, you know, and we’re not planning on leaving it much. So we won’t have time to look after Seb.”

Robert made a face when he realised what she meant.

“Right. Noted. When are you leaving?”

“Tomorrow. So come get him tonight and you can bring him back next weekend when you were going to come visit anyway. We won’t be home until Tuesday.”

“Alright… sure. Write down in your book that we’re having him until next weekend then. So you won’t forget why he’s with us.”

“I won’t forget where my son is, Robert.” Rebecca snapped and Robert rolled his eyes.

“I’m on my way. Can you make sure his bag is packed? I’ll ring you when I get to Liverpool.” He said and hung up after saying goodbye to Rebecca.

“Everything alright?” Aaron asked.

“Rebecca has decided she want us to have Seb until next weekend so she can go shag Ross in London. Her words, not mine.”

Aaron frowned.

“Right. Great.”

“I better get going or I’ll get stuck in traffic.”

“Take my car, his seat is in there.” Aaron said, holding out his keys for Robert to take.

“Thanks.” Robert said and pressed a quick kiss goodbye to his lips. “I’ll see you at home when I get back.” He said and left.

Ellis waited until the sound of tires on the gravel outside had died down before turning to Aaron.

“So what are you really planning for Valentines day?”

“I told you, nothing special.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. We talked about it and we decided not to do anything. Just a take out and a film at home or something.”

“Right.”

“What?”

“It’s not very romantic is it? What did you do last year?”

“We… weren’t together last year. I was technically seeing someone else.” Aaron said after a moment.

“Technically?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Alright. And the year before? Vic mentioned you’ve been together a few years.”

Aaron nodded.

“We didn’t do anything special that year.” He told him, leaving out the details. “We got married in the pub a week after that. Well… more like in the garage. It’s a long story.” He added when Ellis’ eyebrows shot up in surprise. “We’ve just… never really made a big deal out of it. It’s just another day isn’t it?”

“Sure mate. Not everyone is into the big romantic gestures thing, eh?” Ellis said and drank the last of his tea before shrugging his hi-vis vest back on. “I better crack on with that car out there so maybe my boss will let me knock off early.” He grinned and left Aaron alone with his thoughts.

Maybe Ellis had a point. It was their first Valentines day as a married couple. The first one in their entire relationship where they were together, and happy, and no impending doom looming in the near future. Maybe he should plan something special for Robert.

He grabbed his phone and felt like the world’s biggest idiot for googling ‘romantic valentines ideas’. Robert was his husband, the person he knew better than anyone else in the world, some BuzzFeed list wasn’t going to help here.

He decided to ask Vic for Sarah Sugden’s lasagne recipe. Robert had mentioned and even made it for them a few times and Aaron knew it was more than a simple recipe to him.

Only when Vic sent him the recipe a little while later he realised it was a lot more work than he thought, and also slightly above the level of his culinary skills. Not wanting a repeat of the year before, Aaron gave up on the idea of cooking something special for his husband.

He turned back to google and ended up scrolling through endless lists of sexy, crazy, lovely, cute, and all kinds of other adjectives valentines day surprises and Pinterest pages of dinner tables and king size beds covered in rose petals.

He hated all of it. Candlelit dinners, sexy underwear, and rose petals just wasn’t them.

Robert much preferred him in a suit, or out of it for that matter, and candles with Seb in the house was a big no. Just like rose petals on the bed. It might look nice in pictures but it would be a nightmare to clean up afterwards.

He jumped when his phone rang and a picture of his family showed up on the screen.

“Rob. Everything ok?”

“Yeah, fine. We’re taking a little detour because the M62 is madness today. Do you want me to pick up some food on the way home? Chinese? Or pizza.”

“You’ve already got Seb?” Aaron asked, only now realising how much time had passed since Robert had left.

“Yeah, of course. I know you think speed limits are merely suggestions but even when you stick to them it doesn’t take that long to get to Liverpool, you know.” Robert teased and Aaron could hear Seb babbling in the background.

“Yeah that’s right Seb, daddy Aaron is being silly.

Aaron smiled.

“Hey Seb, don’t listen to daddy Robert, he’s being a prat. As usual.” He joked and they both laughed. “Just get home both of you. We’ll get a couple of pizzas from David’s.”

They spent the evening having a cartoon marathon with Seb (and Liv calling them both losers for being just as into them as the little boy) and taking their time bathing him and tucking him into bed (and reading him two stories instead of one) and Aaron felt content. The stress and doubts from that afternoon forgotten.

Until they settled down in front of the tv and everything seemed to revolve around the perfect date for Valentines day, that was. If Robert could put together a wedding in 24 hours, surely he could do the same with a romantic night for two?

He waited until Robert had dozed off on the sofa and resisted the urge to snuggle up beside him. Instead, he carefully grabbed his laptop and dove back into his research from that afternoon. Only still nothing really seemed to fit them. Not in the least because all of the tips and ideas were based on straight couples. Girls putting on sexy lingerie for their man, and guys taking their girlfriends out to fancy restaurants after surprising them with expensive jewellery.

Robert liked the finer things in life but Aaron also knew he loved their curry and beer dates in the pub. And getting an expensive gift and a table in a restaurant at the last minute just wasn’t going to happen.

It was nearing 2AM when Seb started crying and woke Robert up.

Robert, who was dead to the world as soon as his head hit the pillow, or the back of the sofa in this case, now woke up whenever their little boy needed him. Robert had really grown into being the best dad possible and Aaron loved that about him.

“What time is it?” Robert mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Late.” Aaron said, closing his computer. “He probably needs changing. I’ll get him, you go to bed.”

Robert nodded, kissed Aaron goodnight and went upstairs to their bedroom while Aaron tended to Seb.

The next morning Robert surprised him with breakfast in bed. Which had been exactly Aaron’s idea. Robert always claimed he made the world’s best fry up, so that’s what he’d planned to surprise him with. Only he’d forgotten to set his alarm earlier than usual and Robert had beaten him to it.

“Happy Valentines day.” Robert said as he placed the tray on his lap and kissed him.

Fresh juice and heart shaped pieces of toast.

“Liv is getting Seb up and fed so we can have a little lie in.”

“Oh…ok. I thought we weren’t doing anything special?”

“Orange juice and toast is hardly special, is it?” Robert replied, smiling around a bite of toast.

It turned out ‘nothing special’ to Robert meant post its stuck around the house, his car, and his desk in the portacabin with reasons why Robert loves him written on it, and an empty house for the afternoon while Liv was at college, and Seb at wishing well with Sam and Lydia and his new best friend Spamela.

Aaron loved it and hated it at the same time.

“Hey, are you alright?” Robert asked, tracing patterns on his bare chest while propping himself up on his elbow in their bed. “You’re so quiet.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a bit tired. Seb kept me up half the night.” Aaron replied and gave him a quick smile and a kiss, hoping Robert would be satisfied with that answer and drop the subject.

“No, come on, I know that’s not it. Talk to me.”

Aaron sighed.

“It’s nothing. I’m fine. Forget it. We should get dressed and pick up Seb.”

“Seb is fine with Sam and Lydia. He loves them and that pig. Talk to me.” Robert pushed. “Did I do something wrong?”

“What? No. You did absolutely nothing wrong. You’re amazing. I love you.” Aaron said and kissed Robert again for emphasis.

“I love you too.” Robert replied. “But tell me what’s bothering you.”

“Nothing. It’s stupid.”

“I’m sure it’s not.”

Aaron sighed again. Of course Robert wouldn’t let it drop.

“Come on, we promised we’d talk to each other, remember?”

Aaron sat up against the headboard of their bed and waited for Robert to do the same.

“Nothing is wrong, I promise. Everything is perfect… but…”

“Is it too much? I know we said we wouldn’t do anything special but… -”

“It’s not too much but I haven’t done anything for you. You made me breakfast, and then all those little notes, and now an afternoon in bed. You do everything and I wanted to do something special for you too but you beat me to it. Every time.” Aaron explained, exasperated.

Robert laughingly shook his head.

“Come here you idiot.” He said and pulled Aaron closer. “This is not a competition. I love you, I want to be with you, always.”

“I know… but… I just… wanted to do something nice for you too.”

Robert grinned.

“What we just did definitely classes as nice.”

Aaron affectionately rolled his eyes.

“Is that all you want me for, eh? Sex?”

“Among other things.” Robert joked and then turned serious. “Aaron you believed in me when no-one else did, you gave me a home, a family, you love me, you made me feel like I belong somewhere again. Like I belong here. That’s all I need. I don’t need gifts or big romantic gestures. As long as I’m with you, I’m happy.” He said and pulled Aaron in for a kiss.

“Soft lad.” Aaron said and Robert just grinned. “Just… let me do something for you every once in a while, yeah?”

“Aaron it’s not a co -”

“Competition. Yeah I know. But I want to, ok? I want to. So just let me take care of you for the rest of the day alright? I’ll go get Seb and make dinner for us.”

“You? Cooking? Is that a good idea?” Robert teased.

“I can cook.” Aaron replied, slightly indignant, which made Robert laugh.

“Just no pasta from scratch, alright? That’s my department. You’ll get your flower to egg ratio all wrong again.”

Aaron grinned.

“Alright MasterChef Sugden, no pasta.”

“It’s Sugden-Dingle, actually.”

[multiplefandomfics]

Grimes sisters chapter 13

So one last chapter for tonight maybe I’ll manage to post more tomorrow.

Pairings: Shane x Fabienne; Daryl x Alex

Warnings: walker attack, blood, angst

Words: 1962

Rick POV

I had thought a lot about Alex‘s words.  My behavior was destroying our little family piece by piece and maybe I’d even lose someone. And one thing was for sure we had already lost enough people. I sighed so Alex strokes lovingly over my arm smiling. She looked so happy and being happy in this world wasn’t natural. That’s why we were supposed to always enjoy moments like that as long as they lasted. I was sure that we would build us a future there because I trusted everyone there with my life. They were family.

After our shift was over my stomach rumbled terribly which makes us both laugh loudly. “you hungry, huh?” she asked and playfully shoved my side. Nodding in agreement we both walked back over to the building. Entering the common area we noticed that we were late because only Carol, Fabienne and Shane were still present. A second I was worried about Carl but he was surely caring for Judith.

Smiling at us Carol asked: “Well, how are you two?” She was definitely the good soul of the group. “We’re fine just starving.” I confessed so she brought us some food.

We really enjoyed our food because honestly, we deserved that.

“Shane? I wanted to go for a run tomorrow. Mostly searching police stations for weapons and ammo. If the governor decides to attack then we’ll need it. Would you accompany me? We know those stations better than anyone.” I tried to sound as neutral as I could.

I wanted to take Alex's advice to give the whole thing another chance. He looked up from his bowl of food and answered: “Yeah sure. I’m positive that we’ll find something useful.” In the back of my mind a small voice whispered that I could always count on Shane.

Yawning Fabienne announced that she was tired and was gonna go to bed. She was right it had been a long and hard day. To say goodnight she went around the table and gave her sister and me a kiss on the cheek and shot Shane a glance. He saw, scrambled to his feet and also excused himself to bed. “We gotta get up early tomorrow so… See ya.” Shortly before leaving the room Shane put his arm around her middle and pulled her closer to whisper something into her ear but before I can overthink that I got a push in the ribs again from Alex who chastised me not to stare at them so hard.

After finishing food I went back to my cell where I discovered Carl and Judith sleeping soundly so I put a blanket over them and whispered “I love you so much.” Laying down in bed I noticed how exhausted I was and fell asleep quickly.

Shane POV

Fabienne really surprised me that day. First she was cool and rejecting and then she couldn’t wait herself to get close again.  “Please be careful tomorrow and have an eye on Rick, will you?” she whispered to me and gave me her best puppy dog eyes. I nodded in agreement “Of course. You can always count on me.” after that we just gave each other one last kiss for the night and went to sleep in our respective quarters.

Rick and had left at dawn and we already sifted through one station but that one had unfortunately already been plundered so we kept on driving. Sitting together in a car felt like nothing had changed and we were still deputies on patrol. “Like ol’ times, right Rick?” we started laughing and nothing had felt that normal and relaxed in a long time. “You can really be proud of Carl, Judith and your sisters. They’re really good people.” I remarked and he suddenly looked thoughtful. I just hoped I didn’t say anything wrong. “I guess you’re right. Especially Carl. He has had to grow up so fast and he manages so well. Caring for his sister and all. I just sometimes wished he wouldn’t have to take so much responsibility. He’s still only a kid and I would have wished him to stay innocent and carefree for much longer. Ya know?” he poured his heart out to me and I nodded in understanding. I wasn’t sure what else to say to that. Wasn’t really my topic of expertise.

We stopped at the next armory and fortunately we found some guns and ammo but there had also been people before us. I only hoped that the last two on our route weren’t gonna be as empty as the last ones. We really needed the weapons in case of an attack. Getting back into the car we were just happy that nothing had sprung on us yet.

“Rick?” I asked after a moment of silence which got his attention before looking back on the road ahead. “please be assured that I’ll always take care of your sister. I promise you that.” I just wanted him to know that he could always count on me no matter what. “I know that I was an idiot and maybe I still am but Fabi makes me a better person.” I continued to make him understand that I definitely didn’t wanna stand between Fabienne and him as my best friend. In the end he was like a brother to me and I loved him. We first met each other in police school so many years ago it felt like an eternity.

“I’m trying my best to trust you both.” he mentioned shortly and a little bit agonized. Then silence fell once again over us.

The third Police station is a bust again but fortunately there is a police car parked outside with a full tank and some weapons inside. Jackpot! “Rick what would you think if I took the other car back? We could use a new one.” I suggested. “Good idea. Let’s do this.” Rick agreed. He got back into his  truck and I took seat inside the new one. I trailed after him and to our luck the last place was still packed with everything we needed. It laid at the ass crack of nowhere that probably saved it from plunderers. I loaded everything into our vehicles while Rick held some walkers back. Another reason why no one had dared to come out here. “You done Shane?” Rick suddenly asked kinda out of breath and I stormed out the door, through the biters and to our cars. Driving away this time I took the lead.

At first everything was normal and calm but suddenly, as I looked through the rear-view mirror, I saw Rick lose control of his car and drive down a ditch. Immediately I stopped my car, grabbed my gun and hobbled over to him. My leg was still hurting like a bitch but I didn’t care in that moment. When I arrived at his car there had already a few walkers gathered around which I quickly shot hoping no more would be attracted by the gun shots. The car windows were broken and the airbags had popped and when I called his name he didn’t react which got me worried. Pulling on the door handles the door didn’t budge so I tried it from the inside and carefully pulled Rick out. The biter wave didn’t let up so between grabbing bags of weapons out of the wreck, half carrying Rick to my car and killing walkers on the way, we made it over the other vehicle. I pushed him onto the backseat and on my way of turning around to get to my seat a walker had crept up on me and we fell to the floor. Laying there like that I saw my life flash before my eyes one last time when I suddenly heard a shot and blood splattered all over my face. The walker laying dead atop me.

Rick had pulled himself up and taken the shot. Without another thought I climbed back into the car and drove off. Completely exhausted I drove us back to the prison as fast as I could.

Carl opened the gate and let us through. When I stopped I jumped out and called for help. Daryl and I helped Rick out of the car to lay him down on the floor and check for bites or scratches but fortunately there were none.

Fabienne and Alex who had come by were fighting with their tears. Too shocked to understand what had happened and that it probably wasn’t a big deal. Exhausted I let myself fall to the ground. The adrenaline finally wearing off.

“Just some scratches and bruises. He’ll be good as new.” Hershel said after closely checking on him. Fabienne crouched down next to me “What happened?”

“We took two cars and then Rick lost control over his and there were biters everywhere. One had almost gotten to me in the end but Rick shot him.” I explained.

After getting back on my feet Daryl and I carried Rick into his cell and to his bed. He really needed some rest. Alex and Fabienne were so worried they even sat at his bedside. A few hours later and we had our old Rick almost back. “How are you feeling?” I asked him standing in his door. “Well, could be better but I’ll be fine. Thanks fro saving my ass out there.” Alex and Fabi are both sitting by his side leaning their heads on each of his shoulders. “No I have to thank you. If you hadn’t been there I’d be walker food by now.” We finally agreed that we could trust each other again.

The moment I wanted to step out I got held back by a small hand on my arm. “Are you really okay?” Fabienne asked me. I just nodded and smiled when she stroked over my cheek.

Alex had also joined us “Rick is gonna take another nap and I wanted to get the weapons inside with Daryl.” she offered and I silently thanked her.

“Come on and sit down. You need to rest too. I’ll be back soon.” Fabienne helped me sit down and then took off. Only a few minutes later she arrived back with a wet washcloth and wiped the blood off my face. After that she pulled me into a tight hug “I was so afraid I was gonna lose you.” she mumbled into my neck while I stroked her back reassuringly.

Alex POV

Relieved that Rick and Shane were alright after the accident and that their injuries were limited to a few cuts and bruises I walked outside with Daryl to retrieve the guns from the car. Daryl immediately noticed that something wasn’t right and that I was still completely wrecked because of what could have happened so he came close to me, put his big strong hands on my face to pull it upward. His calloused fingertips stroked my cheeks lovingly “They’re fine.” he reassured me. And I immediately felt better. He pulled me closer and kissed my forehead lovingly. I wasn’t able to tell him yet but I was so happy to have him by my side maybe there were more than minor feelings.

Then he let go of me “Come on. let’s get that stuff inside before dark.”

When we had gathered everything inside we looked through it. “i think we could get quite far with that stuff.” he wasn’t always that optimistic but when he was that meant something.

Of course no one of us really hoped that that asshole of a governor would attack us again but if he was, we would let up so easily...

[jestbee]

June 23: Ships that pass in the night (Chapter Three)

[the-haven-of-fiction]

The Prize, Ch. 8

Summary: AU Tom, set in early 19th c. London.  Madeleine and Tom have known each other since they were teenagers (her brother is married to his sister). Can they overcome their fears and choose each other?  

Genre: Romance/Angst/Drama (Written as an experiment in the heaving bosom/bodice ripper vein)

Rating: T (non-explicit sexuality/mild violence in later chapters)

Author’s Notes: Friendly reminder that I am not a “W”riter, I always feel like I can’t describe what I see, and your imagination needs to be on High right now.  Only half beta’d, all mistakes are mine. I promised I would post it before I went to bed and I’m exhausted, should probably go back and edit when I have fresh eyes.  

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7

“Tom!” she exclaimed upon seeing him enter the library, “Come see what Fred- uh, Mr.Kingston has brought me!”

His Christian name.  

She had just caught herself using his Christian name.

And she was cradling an armful of new books.

That were from him.

Tom wanted to march over to her and tear them from her hands, throw them into the fire, wipe every trace of memory about that man from her mind.

She was smiling, eyes dancing with excitement as they always did at receiving such gifts.

The intimate way she referenced him, the present of the books, and the embrace…

They could only mean one thing.

It was too late.

“You can’t marry him.”

The smile disappeared at his words, words that were uttered as a command, words that sounded harsh and imperious.  Words that he knew were wrong, but that he couldn’t stop.

“You can’t marry him,” he repeated with a nod and took another step towards her.

He was horrified when she matched his step with a backwards one of her own and she drew the books to her chest, as if she read his mind and knew his intent and was trying to protect them.

And herself.

Her eyes were now flaring in alarm.  She was looking at him as if he were a stranger.

“What?” asked in a tone rife with true confusion.

He said it a third time, hands clenched, the image of Mr.Kingston’s arms around her burned into his vision, the reality of his temporary physical limitations in reference to his slinged arm making him feel still more helpless.

No!

Not my Madeleine!

“I can’t?” she said as her brows furrowed.

He shook his head in affirmation of her question.  

“I can’t allow it.”

The expression on her face was unlike anything he had ever witnessed.  Incredulity, indignation at his assertion; and rightly so, for it was the first time he had spoken to her in this manner.  

“You can’t allow it?” she asked, stunned.

Their exchange at the ball rang through his memory.

“He is not the man who is worthy of you.”

All reason disappeared from his mind.  The fear from the last couple of days was suddenly overtaking him again.  Fear when he couldn’t rouse her after the accident, fear that she was injured or worse, this new fear that she would truly be lost to him forever.

“You have known him for such a short time.  You do not know what you are doing.  You are not in full possession of the facts.”

This was going all wrong. Terribly wrong.

He had imagined this scene so many times, for so many months now.  He had imagined a lovely, mild evening exactly like this one.  He had imagined them together in this house, where she was mistress and nothing would disturb them.  In the perfect scenario, the best and most hoped for, he had imagined confessing his affection with the ardent wooing of a lover.  He had imagined her flushed with surprise and pleasure at the sweetness of his address, not repulsion and anger at the arrogance of his accusations.

Do something! Say something! Tell her the truth!

“Madeleine, I –“

“The facts, Thomas,” she interrupted, spitting out his name as if it were the bitterest pill in her mouth, “are these.  Firstly, this is my home and I will not be spoken to in such a manner, not by you or by anyone.  Secondly, I am fully capable of making my own decisions without your approval.  Lastly, the conceit you are revealing in this unprecedented display, as though you hold by natural right or my personal consent the power to dictate my choice of husband, is astonishing.  How dare you, sir.”

Her voice was shaking by this time.

He was paralyzed.

“Mr.Kingston is a good and honorable man, one who has never spoken to me with anything less than respect and the highest form of gentlemanlike decorum, with anything remotely resembling how you have just now spoken to me.”

He wanted to shake himself from this sudden nightmare.  He wanted to turn back the hands of the clock for these last few minutes and start afresh without stubborn masculine pride and stupidity.

“Not even my brother would do as you have done.”

She spoke now with a dreadful sadness, all anger had abated as swiftly as it had sprung.  

Madeleine. no.  

My darling Maddy, no.

No, this isn’t how it should be.

Please, let me explain.

But she closed her eyes and turned away from him, not seeing that he found the will to move and was reaching for her, silently pleading for her forbearance and forgiveness.

“You have insulted me, you have insulted the affectionate acquaintance between us in the most offensive manner.  Please leave.”

Oh, no.  

No, don’t send me away.

“I can not bear to be in the presence of someone who has carelessly trod upon a friendship of so many years.”

Friendship.  That is all this was.  That is all it will ever be now.  

“If you have any part of the gentleman remaining in you from that time, please do as I wish and leave.”

You are a blundering fool and you have destroyed your chance. Don’t cause her further pain.

He forced himself to obey, to leave her in a state of bewilderment and self-reproach.

How had this happened.

How had he let this happen.

In mere minutes he had laid waste to every noble intention and hope for a future with her.  

How could he possibly repair what he had destroyed in those minutes.

With only a few words spoken in pride, fear, and jealousy.  

Words that should have been spoken in love, honesty, and respect.

He exited the library, bumping into the doorframe in his haste, sending pain shooting up his arm into his shoulder.  He strode down the hall and into her other favorite room on the first level.

It was dark and he stumbled to the tall mullioned windows and pulled back the drapes to let in the first rays of moonlight.  They fell on her mother’s harp and the pianoforte where he had sat with Madeleine and she had taught him to play.  He had taken to it quite naturally, surpassing her own skill in a very short amount of time.  

He lifted his good hand to the keys.  They caressed the smooth ivory for a moment while he attempted to calm the rapid beating of his heart.

Playing always soothed him. He composed his own music when was alone.  She was the only one who knew among his family.  

And now…

Now she would never know that it was all for her.

He would never be able to tell her that every note bore her name.

The tune that his fingers began was one she had not heard.

It had only been heard by another.

By the one he thought could replace her.

He had not played it since that night.

That terrible night when she had turned away from him, as Madeleine had done, and quietly asked him to leave.  As Madeleine had done.

He did not think he would play it again.

But it came unbidden, rushing through his mind and out of his hand in a flood, so different from all of the others.

And those words came unbidden, the words before she had turned away, when she stood next to him as the final chords faded away.

“This is not for me, is it?”

She had been so sad when she spoke, as Madeleine had.

It had been obvious to her. It had been obvious that the progression of notes was teeming with love that was unsure, with desire that was unmet. It could not be for her.

He grit his teeth in frustration at his injury, wishing he could put both hands to the instrument and release, by that action, his heart from this tempest.  

When he looked up minutes later, she was there, observing him from the threshold, as he had observed her dancing in the library that morning.  

Madeleine.

My Madeleine.

There were tears in her eyes, as there had been in Lucie’s.

For Lucie’s tears, he had felt guilt.  He had felt shame.

Madeleine’s tears were infinitely worse.

He had wanted to soothe Lucie’s tears so that his own errors and feelings of disquiet would be soothed. With Madeleine, he wanted to soothe her tears because he had caused them and because…

Because he loved her.

He rose slowly from the bench, waiting to see if he was going to be granted a reprieve.  Although truthfully, it would not matter what she said; he only wanted her voice, her eyes, her attention on him.  He was the young child who craves the notice of the one he loves, who would submit to any criticism, any correction, anything.  If only he could be in her presence.

“There’s no need to leave your place there, I simply wanted to tell you that I am quite tired and I have asked Mrs.Copplan to send a tray to my room with some supper.  She will provide you with whatever you require for the evening.”

The coldness and detachment in her voice struck him keenly.  Before he could speak, she murmured her goodnight and he stood and listened to her light footfall until he could hear it no more.

A lonely, miserable evening was before him.  The dining room was quiet during his solitary meal.  He missed their lively chatter across the table, he missed her enjoyment of the first supper when she returned home.  Although he was not engaged in conversation, the cacophony inside his mind raged.  Normally he would have gone out for a ride, but her objection to the activity that morning at the inn kept him on solid ground.  He opted for a stroll out to the gardens again.

By the time he reentered the house, he had a plan.  He knew her. He knew her gentle and forgiving nature. He knew her to be gracious, to be understanding.  He would simply have to trust in all that he knew of her, in all that he had learned and come to love about her over the years.

He was about to climb the stairs and retire for the night when it crossed his mind that some reading might also help to calm him.  Surprise filled him as he made his way down the hall and saw light coming from the room. Perhaps…

His hope was realized when he slowly pushed open the door and saw her curled up in one of the large chairs by the fireplace, a shawl adding another layer to her nightgown and robe. There was a book in her hand, but it was resting on her lap and she was staring off into space.

Ordinarily he would have attempted to leave without her noticing him, not wanting to cause her any embarrassment about her state of attire.  But after last night, when she had so boldly appeared before him in a similar state at the inn, and with the current storm between them, he decided it was not something to be given much thought.

He cleared his throat and her gaze met his.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she stated flatly, although her voice had a slight quavering. “I never can sleep when someone is…when I have…”

He saw again that she was on the verge of tears and this time he was determined.

In a few short steps he was in front of her, knees hitting the carpet.  Her eyes widened at his movements and he took the book from her lap, closing it and setting it on the table beside the chair.  His hand covered her own.  He picked up each one in turn, pressing them to his cheeks, needing to feel her soft skin against his.

“Madeleine.  My sweetest Maddy, please, do not cry.  I am a fool and I am not deserving of your tears. Will you give me a few minutes?  Will you grant me that?  Let me explain.”

She was still from his first words to his last, her breathing steady throughout his speech. She listened with patience, looking at him as if she would give him all the time he wanted.  She listened as he began at the beginning, listened as he gripped her hand, clinging to it like a lifeline to a drowning sailor.  

He told her of the slow progression of his feelings, of his fears of harming the familial ties between them, of his endeavor to let her go and his trip to France, of his jealousy of Mr.Kingston, of his conversation with Elton.  The clock on the mantle passed from one hour to the next.  Still she sat and listened.  

“Can you forgive me? My behavior was abominable and I promise, I will never act in such a manner again.”

She nodded, somewhat overwhelmed and not quite able to speak.  He bowed his head as a penitent receiving absolution and shut his eyes in relief.

A weight lifted from him, but a wave of shyness rolled in and the final entreaty he had planned to give remained unspoken.  He had shared with her everything that there was to share, laid himself open and honest before her, confessed his love.  All that was needed was to inquire if there was any chance that she could return the depth of his affection.  And be his prize.

He looked up at her, opened his mouth to ask that most vital questions, but she brought her fingers up to his lips and shook her head.

“I have heard enough.”

Oh, God, no.  It’s too late.

He moved to stand, to flee like an embarrassed child.

Her next words froze him to the ground.

“And now, if you don’t mind, I’d like you to kiss me.”

[outsideangle]

The Expat’s Dilemma: Reckoning With a Trump Presidency From Abroad

Waking up in my foster home of Melbourne, Australia on Wednesday, November 9th, I felt a mix of hope and certainty that my country would come to its senses. Judy Woodruff and co. looked bright and cheerful on the PBS NewsHour live stream as the polls on the eastern seaboard closed 16 hours behind me and tallies began coming in, and with the previous week’s polls showing an almost assured victory for Hillary Clinton—some being so bold as to predict with 90% certainty or more—the crew had good reason to be. I was excited, bordering on proud: my country was about to elect its first female president and show the world that yes, actually, Americans do happen to do the right thing eventually. Eventually has turned out to be much further off than predicted.

It’s a curious feeling, being the only American in an office of internationals, watching as Florida falls, your birth state of Wisconsin flips, and your home state of Pennsylvania fumbles under the crushing weight of Appalachia, and all the while trying to plan a lesson for your evening class. I started receiving texts from friends everywhere—American and not—as the poll closings rolled west and our hope gave way to panic and fear and frustration. Some of my co-workers tried making jokes, and I nearly snapped at one of them, but channelled that anger into a Facebook post proclaiming that now was not the time for humour. My ex-girlfriend and I, both Americans living in Australia, traded messages of outrage and heartbreak—hers worse, as her parents had voted Trump—as we realized what was happening at home; she ended a Tinder date early that night so we could drink whiskey and beer and wallow in our powerlessness from across the Pacific. We shared an awkward kiss goodnight when I went home, born of uncertainty, but it fit with the new world we’d been hurled into. Uncertainty is a frustrating emotion, but after the election nothing was stronger than my sense of powerlessness. I’ve felt it subtly for years, but didn’t begin acknowledging it until the killing of Michael Brown and the events that followed: continued deaths at the hands of police who never faced consequences, one mass shooting after another, and watching the government slowly be taken over by ultra-conservative politicians who not only didn’t care about any of it, but also wanted to limit the rights of minorities by strengthening the institution that kept them repressed. I was living in South Korea as an elementary school English teacher through most of that, and in my rational mind I knew that being home and joining movements wouldn’t really change anything, but my geographic inability to take part in activism and grassroots participation exacerbated the feeling—even then, I sometimes wonder if, were I home, would I have partook at all, or was it looking in from the outside that made me long to engage. Watching your home burn from afar, stuck, awakens an entirely different set of emotions than having the flames around you. That was a different time, though, and nobody could’ve predicted Trump’s ascension to the Republican nomination—he’d only been a contender for two months when I returned to the United States in August of 2015. When I left again, this time for Australia, in February 2016, nobody could believe his hate-filled campaign was still running, and with such success. As I watched him clinch the nomination and somehow hold his own in polls with Hillary Clinton, I began thinking, “I should be there. I should be fighting this. I should help.” All I could do from abroad was send in an absentee ballot and sign petitions, and these felt like hollow actions. Hate is not passive; it is aggressive and threatening, and passive resistance will not stop it. I tried to be active and assert my power in Melbourne the Saturday after the election, where I joined a march through the city protesting Donald Trump. A few days prior, I had posted on the event page, “I’m an American living here, and I cannot WAIT to protest this demagogue my country has somehow chosen,” and was met with numerous critics telling me to “get over it” or “get out of Australia.” One sad soul with a lot of time on his hands (he commented at around 3 AM on a Friday night) went through my old profile pictures, found one of me dressed up in a sports bra as a female jogger for Halloween and posing with my female friend grabbing my boob, and overlaid the sentence, “I WONDER IF SHE’D FUCK ME WITH A STRAP ON AFTER THE TRUMP PROTEST.” The photo was deleted, but he posted it again the next day telling me I was a “seppo cuck,” and still people are saying “you lost, get over it.” Regarding the cry of “you lost,” I can understand the criticism of protesting, especially outside the United States. However, to call out protestors for that is to miss the point: we protest not because we lost the election, but because we will not tolerate the rhetoric that elevated Trump to office—we protest to show we will not let human rights go quietly into the night. Many people don’t have the luxury of “getting over it.”

The march turned out a few hundred people, mostly socialist student activists, and while it felt good to be in the streets, it was too soon after the election for anything to come of it. The sense of powerlessness quickly returned.

In other attempts at effectiveness, I’ve not stopped reading analysis and action plans, even going so far as to give myself a Christmas gift in the form of a subscription to The New Yorker. The day before the inauguration, David Remnick wrote how it’s our duty to preserve, protect and defend the Constitution from Trump and his cronies in the Cabinet, referring back to 1787 and that the Constitution’s ratification alone did not “guarantee [its] endurance and health,” and that it’s the “constant work of citizens, collectively and individually,” to maintain it. At The Washington Post, Linda Hirshman urges us to take cues from abolitionists of the 1850s when it comes to achieving a goal after a disastrous setback. These are great ideas, but once again leave little opportunity for expats to participate.

One piece of reading that did help temper my seething fury was “Indivisible: A Practical Guide for Resisting the Trump Agenda,” which pulled from the methodology the Tea Party used to gridlock the country. It presented some direction and concrete ways to affect change, and this essay wouldn’t exist if I hadn’t read that guide—I’m ecstatic to see all the local action groups it’s inspired. Still, though, all I can do is write or send emails, but I can’t be there in person to confront my Members of Congress or march in protests, and that pains me.

At least I’m not the only expat who feels this way; there are several million of us living outside the country, after all. I’ve asked other Americans living abroad how they wrestle with this sense of inefficacy, and nobody seems to have a perfect answer yet. Laura Hagy, who works in Haiti, and Kathleen Phelan, an Australian/American dual citizen, both agree that “having open and honest dialogue” with Trump supporters and people they disagree with is the cornerstone of resistance. I admire the optimism, but from my travel experience I have not once met an American Trump supporter, and face-to-face discussion would probably be the only way to sway opinions—our comments on Facebook posts and message boards are useless and, for me, an unrelenting wave of frustration at the hands of obvious trolls. Bob Kennedy, who lives in Korea, thinks the most effective method is to “lobby the DNC to never again play kingmaker for a candidate,” and I’m inclined to agree with him.

When people on my travels ask me how Trump won, I tell them he didn’t; I tell them that the Democrats lost. The DNC is a hollowed-out husk of a party that needs to be restructured and find its base again. Since Obama’s 2008 victory, the Democrats have lost more than a thousand statehouse seats, 12 governorships, nearly 70 House seats, 13 Senate seats, the presidency and the Supreme Court—that is failure on a colossal scale. If Democrats are going to be the party of resistance, then they need to get it together and demonstrate that they can be effective again.

Ms. Phelan’s final thoughts on best resistance are a little morbid, but no less accurate: “Just survive.” That’s almost all we can do from outside the country, though Ms. Hagy shares my feelings that “[being] far away doesn’t mean I have an excuse to be inactive,” and it’s something both of us are still grappling with. It’s the crux of the expat dilemma this election has posed: reconciling the love for travel and residing abroad, and the internal drive to fulfil one’s civic duty.

Every day since the election, that predicament has been kicking around in my head. My first idea was to start a non-profit organization where expats can donate money and, depending on the amount donated, have a “surrogate” represent them—that could be marching at a protest in their place, or perhaps reading a letter to their Congressperson on their behalf. I also toyed with returning immediately, joining the Democratic Party to try and shake it up from the bottom, and running for office in 2018. Ms. Hagy, for her part, is seriously considering a return to the US to take a more proactive approach. For myself, I decided to put my ideas on hold and move to Singapore for a few months to give the organizations in America some time to figure out a plan of attack, then move back and join the most effective, but still the waiting nags at me. Several weeks into Trump’s presidency and he’s taken a hard-line on immigrants as I’ve moved from one country I’m not a citizen of to another.

The beginning of his time in office has had me reconsidering, though. Since taking office he’s written horrific executive orders on immigration, the Dakota Access Pipeline, and—most frighteningly—restructured the National Security Council and given renowned white-supremacist Steve Bannon even more power. Then there’s the fiasco with Russia that forced Michael Flynn’s resignation, and it surely won’t be the last scandal this White House sees. We’d been preparing for the worst, and a shred of me hoped, “maybe it won’t be as bad as we’re expecting.” But here I am, and there they are.

The day after the inauguration, the Women’s March on Washington took place, and my parents and some of their friends went to DC to protest—my mother even knit a plethora of Pussy Hats—and my brother marched in Philadelphia; I could not be more proud to have a family that’s ready and willing to take a stand, especially when I’m not there to join. For my part, I participated in Melbourne’s solidarity march. I arrived expecting a few hundred people, much like the protest the Saturday after the election, and was astonished to discover more than 6,000 crowded around the steps of the State Library of Victoria, all despite a massacre down the block that claimed six lives the day before.

That crowd, and those all over the planet, showed me that I am not alone. It demonstrated that there are expats everywhere—and non-Americans—who are prepared to stand up to Trump and his vitriol. I wrote postcards to my Senators as well, as per the Women’s March action plan; I’m writing this essay, and intend to write more; I’ll keep sending messages to my representatives. All I can hope is that people do more than protest—that they get involved by donating time and money to organizations that need it and participate in our democracy.

So far the signs are positive, and it’s the most important thing friends and family can do for me back home: send the hope on. Me and other expats only ever see the news, and the news is rarely ever good; we need the good stories from home to keep us going—to let us know that change is in the works. I still don’t know what the best course for me to affect change is—maybe this blog will help, at least in a selfish sense—but perhaps I do have a unique power as an expat: in my travels, I can be an example, and show the world that Americans are many things, but that we are not our president. We will, eventually, get it right.

Photo: Joe Raedle / Getty (via The New Yorker)

[canaryatlaw]

well today was alright. I tried to go to bed a bit early last night and I woke up feeling slightly less exhausted so I suppose that’s good (I say as it’s 11:52 pm and I’m just starting this). Got up, got dressed, got on the train you know the drill. I was shadowing the newest attorney in court today, although shadowing might not be the right word since it was more like assisting, lol. he’s the only one who’s been hired after me so far, but he took the bar in February so he’s already sworn in (though more on swearing in later) and can actually step up in court, so I was basically just helping him manage cases and courtrooms and such. the call wasn’t too crazy, some days there will be like 3 of us staked out in different courtrooms updating our people about what case they’re up to so they can run from one to the next while we fill out the orders for them, lol, so this was relatively calm which was nice. We finished at about 11 and as I was heading back to the office for some reason I really wanted grilled cheese, and I figured I could take an early lunch if I stopped by the Starbucks in the pedway underneath the courthouse. there’s the grilled cheese place on that walk as well but they generally take a little longer to make them and I didn’t want to waste time so I just went to Starbucks and picked up one of their grilled cheeses since they’re doing that now (they’re pretty good!) and my latest drink pick, which has been a berry hibiscus refresher made with lemonade instead of water. I suppose it’s something other people have ordered because they didn’t even bat an eye when I said it. It wasn’t actually my idea, when we were at the airport Starbucks the other day I ordered a refresher and the person was like “do you want lemonade with that?” and I was like ?? sure??? I didn’t know that was an option??? lol, but it’s quite good so I’m satisfied with that. Got that and took the train back to the office. I found out the deposition was supposed to sit in on had got switched to a different lawyer (they do that a lot) and been moved to by phone, so I didn't have to observe anymore because a lot of the point of having people sit in on them is having them observe their demeanor and how they would come off to a jury, so doing that by phone is kinda pointless. I was fine with this because it meant I’d have more time to work on the project that’s due tomorrow and I didn't know if I could finish in time if a deposition took a while. So I went back to my office and started tackling that. the underlying legal process is complicated so I won’t really go into it, but basically their cases of under-insured motorists where the person at fault’s car insurance limit isn’t enough to fully compensate the injured person, so the injured person then goes to their own insurance company, which usually fights them every step of the way because insurance companies are garbage, so basically we were just filling out a form assessing the state of the cases, but that requires going through like 100 or so documents per case with details scattered throughout, so you had to read every line. thankfully they’re digital at least so I didn’t have to deal with piles of paperwork (one of the things I did not appreciate while working for the government). So I ended up doing that for pretty much the rest of the day, I finished around 4 or so but didn’t email them in yet because the lady who assigned the task just re-assigned some to another guy and I didn’t want to get assigned more, lol. I ended up talking to one of the boss guys (I don’t know who the hell is my actual boss, everyone’s kinda my boss at this point, except the assistants at least, but this was the boss guy who likes me a lot and was one of the ones who interviewed me) about the blog post I wrote about the mass tort situation effecting a Chicago suburb right now (if you’re curious google “sterigenics willowbrook” but I’ll warn ya, it’s not pretty) and he read it and then said he thought it was excellent and that he was gonna talk to one of the head head people (one of the people who have the last name that the firm is named for, there’s a few of them, 3 I think? brothers) so I was pleased to hear that because I somehow get super self-conscious about my writing all the time even when I know I’ve been doing this shit for my dad since I was 12 and could practically write this stuff in my sleep, I feel like I lose perspective and I think if it wasn’t too difficult for me it must not be that good, but that’s not what’s ended up being true. so that was nice at least. I had to sort and count the folders for court in the morning which was fine, then I headed home. I got off the train at the stop by Target to pick up the prescriptions I dropped off yesterday since I don’t really have the time for Target trips during the week, getting on and off the train tends to be more practical. got the meds, and on my walk back to the train I ran into one of the lawyers who works at the domestic violence legal clinic that I haven’t seen in a few months so that was cool, I told her that I passed the bar and was at least employed (not where I want to be, but it’s money, and with the job market right now being what it is makes it even harder to get a public interest job) so she was very happy to hear that which was nice. I really did love working for their office, I found the work so fulfilling and I honestly used it as a way to talk about my skills and experience during a lot of interviews when it came to things like communicating with clients in tough situations who need your help but also your compassion, and I mean there aren’t many other situations where it’s just a law student and the client up in court, you’re the only emotional support they’ve got there, and if something goes wrong as it sometimes did, it was up to you to fix it, and I honestly feel like I gained so much knowledge from working those cases, and while I’m sure many would find the work depressing I always found it incredibly fulfilling and I was always itching to get back to working there when there was a new year or semester. but yeah, that was nice. I took the train the rest of the way home and from there changed into comfy clothing and got some dinner, then set up to watch the good place after chatting with my roommate for a bit about this past weekend in NY, shows and such. the good place continues to be hilarious, I laughed out loud for a solid 10 seconds when Eleanor called jury duty a “pointless group activity” because I mean?? she ain’t wrong lol. so that’s always enjoyable. when that was over I switched over to Iron Fist because I guess I’m this invested in season 2 already I might as well finish it. it’s not bad?? definitely better than the first season, though that’s not saying much, but also just not quite reaching the level you would expect it to be at which is disappointing. I’m currently living for Colleen and Misty teaming up and kicking ass, so as long as I get my awesome ladies I can deal with manboychild and his manboychild pain. After like an episode and a half (I had left off with half an episode left) I decided I wanted to do some kitchen organizing since I bought a lot of groceries this week in preparation for making more meals during the week, but since I wasn’t using anything right away I wanted to make sure it didn’t go bad, and I also accidentally got a 3 pound thing of ground turkey instead of a 1 lb thing (the perils of grocery shopping online) so I wanted to use my food scale to separate that into 1 lb portions, stick them in ziplock freezer bags and freeze them. so I did that, then I wanted to do the same with the frozen chicken I had bought (one bag of chicken breasts and one bag of chicken thighs because I’m trying to shake it up a bit) so I measured those out to roughly 1 lb portions which worked out pretty well, I had a bit left over from each bag that put together made about 1 lb, so I can figure out some way to use that. But yeah, did that, then went on my computer for a bit before getting ready for bed and here I am. oh, I said I was gonna take about swearing in. so I got the final all clear email today regarding the character and fitness committee thing for the bar that got dragged out way too long because the one person who still works at DCFS legal and could verify my employment there 1L summer was now on maternity leave, so I had to frantically message the woman who ran the family law center my first year (who now coincidentally works for the DV legal clinic) since she had knowledge of my internship and ask if she’d email her verifying it, which she very graciously did and I am eternally grateful, lol. but all of that to say that since that’s cleared I was able to pay the $50 licensing fee (leave it to Illinois to squeeze yet some more money out of you for the privilege of getting to practice law) and one of the bosses said today that as soon as we pay that we can go over to the appellate court and get sworn in, so that could happen like, next week??? there’s still like the formal ceremony and everything in the beginning of November that my parents are coming out for but this would just let me be able to practice until then so that’s like super exciting!! and scary haha but mostly exciting. okay, it’s 12:29 am, clearly time for me to go to bed so I will be doing that now. Goodnight dearies. Happy Friday.