#Who’s Responsible For What in a Condo Flood?

[chaosjunkieman]

Save Me (Five Hargreaves x Reader)

Based on the end of Season 4. LILA AND FIVE NOT CANON.

Warnings: A N G S T. Not proof read, not time line proofed etc. roll with it :D

A/N: uhm yes hi hello? is this thing on? first time writing fan fic for the umbrella academy woooo!!!!! please please please for the love of GOD let me know if this good, bad, ugly or just straight mid. k thanksssss <3

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: She's the missing puzzle piece after all.

“Five what you doing?” She asked sternly.

Lila had dragged her family and her children into the runaway train that Five got lost in. Seeing this pristine train was an unsettling sight. They could hear the Durangos roar in the distance. Time was of an essence.

“You’re going with them.” Five spats.

A look of disbelief washes over her eyes. Looking towards the man she’s loved all these years with tears threatening to spill from the corner of his eyes. She wanted to pull him close. Comfort him despite this big manly persona he led everyone to believe.

“No.” She states. Crossing her arms in protest.

Above them the chime of the train departure interrupts their conversation.

“Five, no-“ She’s about to reach out to him when he shoves her roughly. She stumbles into the train car and into Claire.

“No! No!” She screams as the doors begin to close in front of her. Fighting against Claire and Lila’s father, she breaks freak from their grip.

She starts to pound on the glass. Tears streaming down her face as Five lets loose the ones he was holding in. The train starts to move. She’s screaming at the top her lungs now. How could he. How dare he go on this journey alone?

The train starts to speed up. Throwing her off her feet. She lands on the floor and curls into fetal position. Their memories running through her head a mile a minute. Her heart shattered. No more shared moments between the two of them, no more laughter, and love. How could she live in a world were he was a distant memory?

~~~~~~~~

She’s pulled to her feet by Ronnie. A cherished family friend of hers when the train comes to a halt. She looks around confused at how she got to where she was. Being with Ronnie and Anita’s family, and Claire. Claire was sniffling, holding on to a ripped and crumpled note that read, ‘take care of my daughter.’ Something in her gut told her that Claire was her responsibility now.

That was months ago.

Instead of splitting off into separate lives, Claire made the argument that they had to live close to Ronnie and Anita. Claiming that some weird intuition told her to do so. So, that’s what they did. She bought a condo not far from the home that the Pitts purchased. The condo felt familiar in some odd way. Like déjà vu. This overwhelming sense of love and admiration flooded her senses when they first toured it. She didn’t even need a day to think on. She put an offer in that same hour, and within that same hour it was accepted.

Claire stayed with her, finishing high school and moving off to college. Their goodbye was tearful and heart felt. Claire promised to visit her during holidays so that way she wasn’t lonely. Despite having their friends to visit each year.

During the summer she found a job within the local city library as a librarian. She found peace and solace in the quietness. The smell of books seemed to fill this whole in her heart. She also started therapy during this time. She had these magical dreams about this man. But he really wasn’t a man. He was a man stuck in a young adult body who had magical powers. Him, and siblings all had magical powers. She dreamt of the world ending. The apocalypse beginning. Being stuck in 1963 in Dallas. But, that boy was always by her side.  

These dreams felt so real some days. That when she awoke she could’ve sworn that the man she was dreaming of was in her room. Only to fade away with the morning sun. Shortly after the dreams began, she started to receive bouquets of flowers each week. The card only ever reading -MH. She had no idea who, or what that meant. The only possible explanation for the H was Hargreaves. But that couldn’t be possible. Hargreaves was the last name of the man she dreamt of. And he wasn’t real..right?

One particular week, she was gifted these beautiful marigolds, nothing else. She had trouble bringing home the bouquet because of how large this particular one was. She fished around the bottom cabinets of her kitchen to find a vase big enough for them. She filled it up with water and placed them in. Something told her that they needed to be in the bedroom with her. She smiled as she placed them on the other side table. They seemed to glow within the room itself.

That night, was the worst of the nightmares she had. She watched helplessly as the man she seemed to have love and his siblings die. But she wasn’t there fully. Like she was a ghost watching a show. Until the Cleanse seemed to reach up at her. Just as her foot was sucked in, she shot up in bed. Breathing heavy she rose out of bed and went to open the bedroom window to let in the crisp air. Sitting on the bench that adorned the window, something from the shadows down below caught her eye. There was absolutely no way what she was seeing was real. The man she dreamt about was below her in the alley way, looking up to her. He smiled brightly before turning and disappearing into the darkness.

Jumping from the bench she ran to her front door. Grabbing the oversized black coat she wore and slipped on her shoes. She rushed down the stairs in hopes to catch him. Her heart racing with each step. Finally busting out of the back door that lead into the alleyway, she sees what she believes is to be his shadow further down.

“Hey!” she yells towards him. The man briefly looks over his shoulder before making a left. Disappearing into darkness again. She takes a deep breath. This is crazy right? Going after a shadow in the dark? But her gut screamed at her to follow. She had to follow.

Sprinting down the corridor she makes the same left turn he did. She sees his shadow illuminated behind the street lamp that was across the street.

“Hey!” She screeches again as she comes up to the sidewalk.

The man still not saying anything turns, and starts to head down a flight of stairs she didn’t even know was there. Gulping, she makes sure to look both ways before sprinting across the avenue. She stands at the top of the stair case. The man’s back disappearing under the overhang. Debating on whether to follow, she decided to. She had come too far without knowing who the hell he was.

She entered into a train station. Too clean of a train station to be atypical city train station. But, the noise of music and rattling dishes pulled her from her thoughts. Around a corner, bright lights illuminated onto the train station tile to which she followed.

As she turned the corner, a bright neon orange sign read MAX’S DELICATESSEN. It was a diner in the middle of a underground train station. Totally not odd. She opens the door to the diner and steps in. Almost immediately regretting it as multiple heads turn her way. Her breath caught in her throat. They were all him. The man she dreamt about. Scared, she was about to step back when one of them from the middle booth rose in his seat.

“Please! Don’t go,” he shouted. Looking flustered as the others of him in the room snickered at his attempt.

“That’s not how you treat this particular guest Five,” The one behind the kitchen counter spat.

He came out from around the counter. Wiping his hands over the waist apron he wore. She looked at him curiously. After padding down his hands, he stood to attention with a smile.

“Miss, Y/N, your table awaits, follow me please.” He said with a wink. A small giggle arose from her chest. Which caught her by surprise.

“And here you are, coffee, black I’m assuming miss?” The man in the apron asks as she settles into the booth seat where the other man was.

“Yes, how did you know?” She asks. Looking between the two men.

“We know everything about you Y/N,” he said with smile before turning on his heel back towards the counter.

The other man who sat in the seat across from her seemed nervous. He was fiddling away with his thumbs. They sat in silence until the man in the apron brought her fresh cup of coffee.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

She brought the hot cup of coffee to her lips. Taking a brief sip. Her face contorted at the bitterness of the coffee.

“Apologizes, the coffee is shit.” The man in the apron said with a grin before he made his way back over to the counter again.

Groaning, she set down the cup and pushed it aside. With the empty table space in front of her, she clasped her hands together and rested her chin on top of them. Starring towards the man in the booth who had picked up the newspaper he was reading. Clearing her throat, he peaked from over the pages. With her eyes, she signaled to him to set it down. His eyes darted between her and the paper before sighing loudly. Setting the paper aside.

“So-“ The man across from her coughed as he took a sip of his own cup of coffee. His face mirroring that same expression she did before.

“So, who are you?” She asks. Eyes narrowing. She watched closely as the man gulped and tugged at his tie.

“Five-“ he responded.

“Five?” She repeated.

“Five Hargreaves.” The man stated before her.

“You’ve been in my dreams.” She sighed, lowering her hands to the table. Shifting to allow her back to rest against the backboard of the booth.

“I know.” He stated through gritted teeth. It seemed like whoever he was, was having a hard time being there too.

“Why?” She asks with a stale flick of her tongue. She was growing impatient at this point.

“I’m your husband.” Five responded. His expression briefly softening before turning stark cold again.

“I-I’m sorry, what?” She chokes on her words.

“From another timeline.” He continues.

“Oh spit it out mate!” Another Five from behind the counter pipes up. They all seemed frustrated with the one in front of her.

“I’m your husband, I’mean- we’re all  your husbands. From different timelines. Different points of existence. Each of us loosing you in some way.” The Five in front of her continues. He brushes the bangs from his face and starts to shimmy off the black over coat he adorned. Too similar to the one she was wearing. She notices a cut on his upper left eyebrow. Taking a alcohol pad she had in one the pockets, she opens it to presumably clean the wound. He coughs, making her look at him, and back down to the pad. Confused on how natural it all felt.  

“What do you mean by lost?” She asks.

“You died in my arms on the night we got married.” A Five from one of the corner booths huffs out. Twirling the ring that sat on his ring finger.

“I lost you to a fire,” One of them whispers from behind the counter. The other Fives pat him gently on the back.

“And you?” She asks, turning to the Five in front of her.

“I sent you away.” He bluntly responds.

“This train station that you’re in?” He motions to outside of the diner.

“I pushed you into it with Anita and Ronnie and Claire. To save you from The Cleanse.” His voice drifted off at the last bit.

“The Cleanse?” She asks curiously.

“To much to explain darlin’” A Five from behind her says in a deep southern tone.

“So why am I here?” She questions. Her heart felt whole just seeing the other man in front of her but unsure why.

“I need to get you back to the correct timeline. He’s there, right now, dying with him family. Those are the dreams you’ve been seeing. But I gave him the wrong advice. He didn’t need to die. They didn’t need to die. Youre the final key to stop the cleanse.” Five reaches out from around the table and his fingers graze across her neck. She melts at the touch of his skin on hers, but he pulls forward the chain to her necklace.

It was a Umbrella necklace.

“This necklace,” Five saves slightly tapping the main parts of the umbrella folds that begin to shimmer.

“Has an elixir. It was there in front of me all along.” He sighs.

“But I don’t have any memories of him, of you-“ She starts, and Five puts up his hand to stop her mid-sentence.

“Follow me,” he replies, climbing out the booth and holding out his hands to hers.  

She grabs ahold and he pulls her from the booth. Dragging her outside the diner, she can hear the other Five’s say their goodbyes.

Five pulls her towards the train that was mysteriously there now. The doors opening once they were toe-to-toe with the platform.

“I’m not-“ She stutters, looking panickily between the train, Five, and the entrance to the train station. Thinking about Claire.

“He needs you, now more than ever.” Five whispers. He cups her face between his hands. Turning her towards him.

“What are you doin-“ She asks when Five places his lips against her forehead.

Simultaneously, a blue orb of light starts to engulf the two. And a massive headache came along with it.

“Ah-“ She grunts, pulling away from the man before her clutching her head and tumbling into the train.

“Wait, no!” She screams, still clutching her head.

The train speeds up and almost tosses her to her feet. However, the same blue light from mere moments before shots out around her. Unbeknownst to her, her eyes glow as well. A light blue shade, similar to Five’s.

As the train comes to a stop. She regains consciousness. The memories of her life before returning. The love she felt for the man she spoke with flooding her blood stream. Above, she could hear crashing and the sounds of civilians screaming.

“Cmon’” She whispers, jumping and shaking out her hands.

In a full on sprint, she darts out of the train. Just has her feet reach the tiled platform she blips.

Landing roughly on a set of stairs. Groaning from the fact that she just time traveled technically, she can hear the shouts of others in front of her. Her blurred vision coming clear. She gasps at the sight.

They all were being engulfed in the Durango.

“Y/N? What the HELL are you doing here? HOW?” Five shouts. She can see him struggling against the Durango.

“It’s the necklace!” She responds as the Durango screeches overhead.

“It has an elixir that Reginald hid. Bitter old man!” She curses to the skies.

“An elixir? What are you talking about?” Five screams from his spot.

The look of fear and pain was washed over his features and she wanted nothing more than comfort him. But she had a bigger job to do.

Whistling, she grabs the attention of the Durango.

“Y/N NO!” Five cries out.

“I love you!” She screams as she turns on her heels. A full sprint down the corridor and out the front door.

Her heart hurts at the sight of destruction. But the roar of the Durango pulls her from her thoughts and she continues her sprint down the street. Hoping to save them in time. She didn’t care if she died here. Just knowing that her husband and his family was safe from the horrible childhood they had to endure that they didn’t ask for.

After almost a block away, she stops. Cooing at the Durango to come just a little closer. But, one of the tentacles from the Durango captures her at her feet. Struggling against it, she takes a deep breath. Allowing the puss to climb up her legs. Just as it reaches her waist, she yanks the chain from her neck. The Durango was fulling on top of her at this point.

“Come get it asshole!” She screams. Tossing the necklace towards the mouth of the Durango.

The Durango catches it as the puss reaches above her chest. In the distance behind the Durango she can see all of them sprinting towards her. Five ahead of them. Unable to make out what he was saying, she smile brightly at him as the puss was beginning to swallow her neck. Just as she’s about to see her lover one final time, the Durango glows blue. Screeching at the top of its lungs, it explodes. The puss around her shattering and the force of it shoots her backwards. She’s launched into a street light pole, and the world around her goes black.

~~~~~~~~

She groans as her eyes flutter and try to adjust to the ungodly bright light. Coughing, she tries to move her head around but is met with sharp pains shooting up and down her neck. Softly moving her head to the side, she can see Five in a chair, fast asleep but holding on tightly to her hand. Mustering up all the energy that she could, she squeezes his hand. His eyes fluttering open at the sensation. His hair was longer now, but his features were just as handsome as the day they met.

“Y/N,” Five whispers. Gently caressing the hand he held.

“Where am I?” She asks through a bitter cough.

“You’re in a hospital. We made it.” He laughs quietly.

She grins at his response. The sense of relief washes over her shoulders, lifting some of the pain along with it.

“How did you know?” Five asks from beside her. He had scooted the chair he was in closer to her hospital bed and started to caress her bruised cheek.

“You told me-“ She hoarsely replies.

Five’s gaze softens into confusion when there’s a knock on the door.

“Can we come in?” Luther asks from the door way.

She smiles softly and nods. The rest of the siblings begin to pile into the small room that she was being treated in.

“How long has it been?” She croaks.

“It’s been a year, you were in a coma.” Klaus replies. Sitting next to Five in one of the chairs.

“How did you know I was awake?” She asks.

“Silly goose, I always know.”  Klaus jokes with a smile and swat of his hand.

The siblings catch her up on everything that happened while she was out. Expplaining that their powers are gone for good now. That Lila, and Diegos family was back, and Allison had Claire again. None of them remembering their lives in the other timeline.

Five sat quietly beside her, caressing her hand the whole time. At some point in the night, the doctors ushered everyone out besides Five so they could run some tests. Determining that she was able to go home at the end of the week. Time didn’t matter for her at this point.

After everyone had left, they two of them remain in the same position in silence. She could hear her heart beating in her chest. That same sense of overwhelming love that poured from such a small man engulfed her. She couldn’t believe that she had such a devoting husband after all this time.

“You stayed,” she comments with a small smile forming on her lips.

Five was puzzled as he was pulled out his thoughts, and she repeated her statement again.

“You mean everything to me, after that suicide mission-“ Five pauses and lets out a cold laugh.

“I love you-“ She interrupts him as he goes to continue his sentence. Not wanting to hear any bashed talk from the man.

“I love you.” He responds with a half crooked smile.

Patting beside her, she motions for him to join her on the hospital bed. About to protest, she stops him. Sternly pointing to the spot beside her. With a groan, he climbs onto the bed. As he settles into his spot, she lifts her head to place it on his chest. Her hand resting over his heart. Feeling it beat beneath her made her sigh. Knowing for sure they were alive lifted a weight from her shoulders. She smiled as Five places a sweet kiss on the top of her head. Pulling her impossibly closer then she already was.

Appreciative of the fact that they got to keep each other after all.

[anderseva]

[Several thousand red poppies are delivered to Eva’s condo - enough to fill up the entire living space. Some are in bouquets, others in vases, and some in beautiful arrangements, and there’s enough of them to take up the entire floor space. There’s no note with the delivery, but it should be obvious who it’s from - it’s served to remind Eva of her first date with Morgan on his ranch.]

morgan weston: lying, cheating, romantic bastard asshole (thanks jay for wanting it titled as such)

After a long day of classes, Eva had expected to come home and just relax with a bottle of 1869 Chateau Lafite Rothschild to pair with the take out she'd just picked up, while she caught up on some show she'd started on Netflix. It would have been the best possible way to mellow out after such a busy day, but as soon as she walked into her condo, she was met with a sweet, floral scent that had her raising a brow. "What the hell is that?" She muttered to herself as she walked through the entrance foyer.

Flowers had never really been her thing, mostly because she didn't have a green thumb and would either forget about them or give them too much water and kill them. She could count on one hand the amount of times she'd been given a bouquet as a gift before, and she'd absolutely loathed it every single time. So as her living room came into view and she was met with a floor littered with flowers, her natural reaction was to wince at the sight. Who the fuck expects me to keep this many flowers alive? She thought to herself as she took in every flower that had taken up residency in her place now, as if they paid a single bill.

Eva's annoyance over the intrusion started to shift as her brown eyes finally took in what type of flowers these were: poppies. "Fuck.." She sighed, exhaling a deep breath as the realization set in. She didn't need to search the vases to see if there was a card left with the thousands of poppies, she knew without a doubt that they were from Morgan, and that this was him referencing their first official date. She didn't need that right now, not when she was this pissed and hurt, yet it was far too late now.

She could still vividly recall the way he'd set up a whole picnic for them, cooking a whole spread that had completely caught her off guard (but also been one of the best home cooked meals she'd had in ages), and then had jumped up and went to retrieve a single poppy for her. “Can’t have a date without flowers.” Eva could even hear him saying it again now, followed by her own teasing response echoing in her ear, which only conjured up yet another aching feeling somewhere near her heart or whatever.

But the last thing she was about to do was cry over him (or Puck) again — she would never allow herself to be that pathetic again, her ego couldn't take that sort of embarrassment for a third time. Instead, she headed for her kitchen, laying her food out before she found her corkscrew and quickly popped the top off her vintage bottle of red and started chugging it back. Eva was tempted to cancel her classes for tomorrow, since she was clearly about to finish off the entire bottle in one setting and would need the next day to recover, but that wasn't as important right now. Taking her phone out of her pants pocket, she went to her messages and had to start a new text thread between herself and the cowboy, and then her fingers were furiously starting to type out a few texts:

EVA: I'm moving my spare key. EVA: Also, since this was about our first date, remember how you said you were spoiling me then 'to keep me comin’ back for more, because no one else will be good enough' or whatever? Guess you didn't mean that shit, huh?

She hit send before she could even think it over, and then she tossed her phone on the counter and went right back to her bottle, needing to just get wine drunk so she could pass out before the rest of their memories started flooding back.

[kamreadsandrecs]

By Amanda Holpuch

The niche world of hockey romance novels is getting mainstream attention after the wife of an N.H.L. player criticized book fans who she said had made comments and videos on social media about her husband that were “predatory and exploiting.”

Here’s what happened when the worlds of professional sports, romance novels and TikTok collided.

First, there was BookTok.

On TikTok, people share book recommendations and reviews under the hashtag #BookTok, and the community has become a powerful force in publishing: More than 100 authors with large BookTok followings drove $760 million in sales in 2022, a 60 percent increase from 2021, according to Circana BookScan, which tracks print sales.

Romance is a big part of the BookTok universe, as is its popular subgenre hockey romance, which falls under the broader sports-romance category.

Recent hits have included Anna Zabo and L.A. Witt’s “Scoreless Game,” a love story between two longtime friends who are players on the fictional Pittsburgh Griffins. In “Overnight Sensation,” by Sarina Bowen, an office intern for the fictional Brooklyn Bruisers moves in with a player after leaving the condo she lives in with her father, the hockey league’s commissioner.

The success of these books has been credited with driving interest among readers in ice hockey, and some professional and collegiate teams have embraced this new audience.

In Australia, where ice hockey is not particularly popular, professional teams have credited BookTok with increasing game attendance and fan interest.

Sarah Bricknall, the events and media manager for the Melbourne Mustangs, told The Hills Shire Times, a Sydney newspaper, that 15 to 30 BookTok fans had been at every home game since the team joined TikTok in May.

How did things go wrong?

On the internet, the lines between fictional players and real-life ones can blur, especially when teams use BookTok to promote themselves.

A video posted to the Seattle Kraken’s official TikTok account that has since been archived showed Alex Wennberg, a center for the team, walking down a hallway in a suit with the text “when you accidentally become a booktok account & now that’s all you can post.”

Other posts by romance fans on BookTok have talked about a specific player as a stand-in for a favorite fictional hockey player or showed game footage overlaid with quotes from hockey romance books. A segment of these posts are sexually explicit, and some fans have posted explicit comments on players’ personal social media accounts.

Emily Rath, the author of “Pucking Around,” a romance best seller on Amazon, said on TikTok that some fans had raised concerns about inappropriate behavior directed at players earlier this year.

“True hockey romance readers have been here before,” Ms. Rath said on TikTok. “We watched it all unfold in April, we were ringing the alarm bells, we were asking that it stop.”

The conflict peaked when an N.H.L. player’s wife got involved.

The issue started to attract attention from outside the romance world in July, when Felicia Wennberg, the wife of Alex Wennberg, said that some posts about her husband had gone too far.

Ms. Wennberg said on Instagram Stories that while she had initially joked about some of the videos and comments, they had since “crossed the line of what it means to fancy someone and when it actually sounds pretty predatory and exploiting.”

Her statement described what she considered acceptable, such as positive comments about her husband’s looks, and what she did not, such as chanting “krak my back” at players at games. She asked people to “think twice” about their posts.

In response, her Instagram account was flooded with harassing messages.

Mr. Wennberg then issued a statement on social media about the “vile comments.”

“We can all take a joke and funny comments but when it turns personal and into something bigger that affects our family, we need to tell you that we’ve had enough,” he wrote. “Enough of sexual harassment, and harassment of our character and our relationship.”

The Kraken has since removed its TikTok posts about BookTok.

How did TikTok creators respond?

The sexually explicit posts were made by a small sliver of the BookTok community.

One creator, Kierra Lewis, had made a video that Ms. Wennberg cited as an example of inappropriate behavior, and Ms. Lewis has since posted a handful of videos responding to the situation.

Ms. Lewis, who has 1.1 million followers on TikTok, had been flown out to a Kraken game earlier this year after she posted videos featuring explicit comments about N.H.L. players, including Mr. Wennberg.

She said that she had privately messaged Ms. Wennberg on Instagram to apologize. Ms. Lewis said that the Kraken TikTok account had unfollowed her, leaving her “confused and upset.”

In her videos responding to the controversy, Ms. Lewis expressed frustration with the team for backing away after it encouraged her, and with Ms. Wennberg for using one of Ms. Lewis’s posts as an example. She defended her videos by saying that TikTok is for “entertainment.”

Ms. Lewis did not respond to a request for comment.

The Kraken said in a statement that they had originally engaged with BookTok to connect with new audiences, but were reminded by this situation “that unintended consequences may arise.”

“It is disappointing that a small percentage of online commenters crossed a line,” the statement said. “We consider this a learning moment for the organization and have taken appropriate action.”



[kammartinez]

By Amanda Holpuch

The niche world of hockey romance novels is getting mainstream attention after the wife of an N.H.L. player criticized book fans who she said had made comments and videos on social media about her husband that were “predatory and exploiting.”

Here’s what happened when the worlds of professional sports, romance novels and TikTok collided.

First, there was BookTok.

On TikTok, people share book recommendations and reviews under the hashtag #BookTok, and the community has become a powerful force in publishing: More than 100 authors with large BookTok followings drove $760 million in sales in 2022, a 60 percent increase from 2021, according to Circana BookScan, which tracks print sales.

Romance is a big part of the BookTok universe, as is its popular subgenre hockey romance, which falls under the broader sports-romance category.

Recent hits have included Anna Zabo and L.A. Witt’s “Scoreless Game,” a love story between two longtime friends who are players on the fictional Pittsburgh Griffins. In “Overnight Sensation,” by Sarina Bowen, an office intern for the fictional Brooklyn Bruisers moves in with a player after leaving the condo she lives in with her father, the hockey league’s commissioner.

The success of these books has been credited with driving interest among readers in ice hockey, and some professional and collegiate teams have embraced this new audience.

In Australia, where ice hockey is not particularly popular, professional teams have credited BookTok with increasing game attendance and fan interest.

Sarah Bricknall, the events and media manager for the Melbourne Mustangs, told The Hills Shire Times, a Sydney newspaper, that 15 to 30 BookTok fans had been at every home game since the team joined TikTok in May.

How did things go wrong?

On the internet, the lines between fictional players and real-life ones can blur, especially when teams use BookTok to promote themselves.

A video posted to the Seattle Kraken’s official TikTok account that has since been archived showed Alex Wennberg, a center for the team, walking down a hallway in a suit with the text “when you accidentally become a booktok account & now that’s all you can post.”

Other posts by romance fans on BookTok have talked about a specific player as a stand-in for a favorite fictional hockey player or showed game footage overlaid with quotes from hockey romance books. A segment of these posts are sexually explicit, and some fans have posted explicit comments on players’ personal social media accounts.

Emily Rath, the author of “Pucking Around,” a romance best seller on Amazon, said on TikTok that some fans had raised concerns about inappropriate behavior directed at players earlier this year.

“True hockey romance readers have been here before,” Ms. Rath said on TikTok. “We watched it all unfold in April, we were ringing the alarm bells, we were asking that it stop.”

The conflict peaked when an N.H.L. player’s wife got involved.

The issue started to attract attention from outside the romance world in July, when Felicia Wennberg, the wife of Alex Wennberg, said that some posts about her husband had gone too far.

Ms. Wennberg said on Instagram Stories that while she had initially joked about some of the videos and comments, they had since “crossed the line of what it means to fancy someone and when it actually sounds pretty predatory and exploiting.”

Her statement described what she considered acceptable, such as positive comments about her husband’s looks, and what she did not, such as chanting “krak my back” at players at games. She asked people to “think twice” about their posts.

In response, her Instagram account was flooded with harassing messages.

Mr. Wennberg then issued a statement on social media about the “vile comments.”

“We can all take a joke and funny comments but when it turns personal and into something bigger that affects our family, we need to tell you that we’ve had enough,” he wrote. “Enough of sexual harassment, and harassment of our character and our relationship.”

The Kraken has since removed its TikTok posts about BookTok.

How did TikTok creators respond?

The sexually explicit posts were made by a small sliver of the BookTok community.

One creator, Kierra Lewis, had made a video that Ms. Wennberg cited as an example of inappropriate behavior, and Ms. Lewis has since posted a handful of videos responding to the situation.

Ms. Lewis, who has 1.1 million followers on TikTok, had been flown out to a Kraken game earlier this year after she posted videos featuring explicit comments about N.H.L. players, including Mr. Wennberg.

She said that she had privately messaged Ms. Wennberg on Instagram to apologize. Ms. Lewis said that the Kraken TikTok account had unfollowed her, leaving her “confused and upset.”

In her videos responding to the controversy, Ms. Lewis expressed frustration with the team for backing away after it encouraged her, and with Ms. Wennberg for using one of Ms. Lewis’s posts as an example. She defended her videos by saying that TikTok is for “entertainment.”

Ms. Lewis did not respond to a request for comment.

The Kraken said in a statement that they had originally engaged with BookTok to connect with new audiences, but were reminded by this situation “that unintended consequences may arise.”

“It is disappointing that a small percentage of online commenters crossed a line,” the statement said. “We consider this a learning moment for the organization and have taken appropriate action.”

[gravitascivics]

CRITIQUE OF CRITICAL THEORY, II

Hopefully, readers keep in mind the positive points this blogger shared in the last posting concerning the critical theory/pedagogy construct while he expresses his misgivings with that view.  To place what is coming into some context, here is a short anecdote – it highlights what is wrong with basic Marxian notions which one finds at the base of critical theory.

         Surely Marxian advocates will find fault with this story’s application to their ideas and ideals, but the blogger believes that the story is relevant.  It harkens to a situation with which his family members lived – it’s a true story.  He regularly visited their condo unit in Miami.  He was familiar with the goings-on of their situation in the condo.  One of his relatives, a fairly bright young man, held vibrant leftist ideas and strongly believed that capitalism was on its last legs.

         Readers should not consider him, the relative, as unpatriotic, but he surely wasn’t an NRA-MAGA type of person.  He didn’t seek or even wish for a violent overthrow of the system or anything resembling that happening, but he did judge prevailing political and economic conditions as basically leading to bankruptcy and doom.  He was an educated young man who had faced various challenges – a hard luck story.

         The unit these relatives lived in was not in any way luxurious, but given their income, the monthly maintenance fees were a bit high – the complex has a swimming pool (that these relatives never used).  Included in the fees was a shared water cost item; that is, the bill to pay the water usage was shared by all of the apartments equally.

         The apartments themselves were modest – three bedrooms, one a master suite which had its own bathroom along with another bathroom accessible through a short hallway.  This story is about the master bathroom where a significant leak in the sink’s faucet developed.  One can estimate that the leak was responsible for wasting several gallons of water per day.  When this blogger visited, he would ask if anything had been done to fix the leak and the answer was always no.

         This situation lasted for months and unfortunately, one day graduated from a leak to an ample flow, so much so that it flooded the apartment and leaked into the unit below my relatives’ fourth-floor unit.  Of course, this demanded that these relatives fix the problem.  The situation prompted this blogger to tell his young relative that this is why pure socialism won’t work – unless the system ascribes personal responsibility to each person or party, then needed actions will not be performed – be it in fixing a leak or any other costly problem.

         Without personal responsibility for upkeep, maintenance, and economic development of assets, then no one is apt to take on those responsibilities.  Economists call such costs as external costs.  When some chore is everyone’s responsibility, it, in effect, becomes no one’s responsibility.  Or stated in other terms, personal accountability is essential in any demanding situation be it in teamwork settings or in the upkeep of some assets, such as water faucets in condo units.

         Keeping people accountable turns out to be essential when it comes to shared living or work conditions. When costs are shared – be they labor, money, or the wear and tear on some asset – it is difficult to bear those costs and they are easily put off or entirely neglected.  Not only do costs need to be perceived as personal, but they also need to be seen as immediate before people are willing to make the investment to fix or change whatever needs changing.

         And this even affects how people react to health challenges.  When it comes to protecting or maintaining people’s most precious asset – their lives – they readily put off what needs to be done to maintain healthy states of being – e.g., in many cases of obesity or in not maintaining a good exercise routine.  

Surely, these relatives did not foresee the ensuing flooding taking place, but my young relative – the Marxist – could understand that by not fixing the leak, he and the rest of that household were wasting an asset to the detriment of the collective, all those residents in the building who were sharing the cost of water usage.

As the facts above indicate, the problem was not addressed until it was personally felt and in full force.  With that as context, this blogger will begin to describe and explain what he sees is wrong with critical pedagogy.  He does not question the honesty, sincerity, or even the patriotism of those who harbor the attributes of this construct – he even agrees with several of its elements.  But that doesn’t minimize how serious he believes the shortcomings are.

And by the by, while he would never insist someone agree with something because everyone feels or believes in that way, he would suggest that that fact should be considered.  If the collective wisdom of the American people recurringly finds this construct wanting – even feeling animosity toward it – one should be wary of its validity or its prudence.  Yet, as this blogger has stated elsewhere, a lot of the hostility, if not disregard, toward Marxian ideas has been fueled by well-orchestrated propaganda efforts by the business community.

And as for the construct’s effect on civics’ curricular choices, Cleo H. Cherryholmes wrote, “it has never been a major theme in social education.”[1]  Yes, currently these ideas have captured some attention in the national media as conservative jurisdictions have proposed or implemented policy to ban its ideas from the classroom[2] – a move that is generating a good deal of controversy.  In this last regard, the upcoming months might prove to be interesting.  Watch Florida, for example.

[1] Cleo H. Cherryholmes, “Critical Pedagogy and Social Education.” in Handbook on Teaching Social Issues: NCSS Bulletin 93, eds. Ronald W. Evans and David Warren Saxe (Washington, DC: National Council of the Social Studies, 1996), 75-80, 75.

[2] See for example, Zach Goldberg and Eric Kaufmann, “Yes, Critical Race Theory Is Being Taught in Schools,” City Journal (October 22, 2022), accessed May 13, 2023, https://www.city-journal.org/article/yes-critical-race-theory-is-being-taught-in-schools.

[bestrealestateattorney]

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[onlinemexicaninsurance]

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[hakesbros]

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[my-ohh-mai]

"'Ahead' of myself? The fucking audacity!" Mai snapped, the glass of wine suddenly shattering in her grip. Tiny shards of glass embedding into her fist while the wine spilled over her wrist.

Was he actually offended?! That she needed him? That he lacked in what she needed from him? Did Kaiba really believe that these jewels, and all other material things he'd given her could ever hold a candle to affection? Real, human emotion? That she wouldn't eventually find herself needing him in other ways after she gave her body to him time and time again? And only to him? Was he surprised to hear that he, for once in his life, lacked in something?

She would stand her ground on it. When it came to this, he did. He did lack. In every sense of the word. But, this behavior? This ego fueled, toxic response to her openly sharing her feelings? She would not just lie down and take it. But, she was losing her composure. She was seething. Yelling.

"It's THAT hard for you to be a human being isn't it? When you aren't fucking me, you''d rather be a robot! But, In a FEW, fleeting moments, I see you warm up. I see a FLICKER of a good person with emotions, only to immediately be packed up the SECOND it lingers on too long for you! It's like second nature to you, isnt it? To just flip a switch and NOT FEEL ANYTHING?! That's weak! Developing emotional needs for someone who has NO PROBLEM cumming inside of me isn't!"

It was jarring. He had such nerve to say the things he was saying. To be offended that she needed him in an area he hadn't proven. Mai was tearing at the seams, slamming the bigger chunks of glass down onto the table, idly wiping the blood that kept flooding over her fist with a napkin. Did he truly believe that treating her this way was the right thing to do? It was driving her away. Far. Far. Away.

"No, I won't ever 'crawl back to you' I'm NOT a fucking dog! I'm a human being, in case you've forgotten what that was! I can't keep giving my body to you and act like that doesn't come with emotions and needs! I wont lie to myself! YOU'RE the weak one that needs his ego filled to feel substance! Fuck you, Seto Kaiba!" Mai squinted through a blurring gaze, flooding with tears of anger and an aching heart. She stood up from her seat while saying all of this, her words spilling out faster than the blood from her wounds.

"You know what? Here! I dont need this SHIT, and I dont need you." One by one, Mai took off every piece of jewelry. Chanel, Tiffany, Cartier, off of her wrist and neck, slamming the pieces in a sparkling pile onto the table. She didn't care if she was causing a scene. She spitefully hoped that she was embarrassing him. It was the least that he deserved for calling her weak for being so vulnerable and true to herself. She didn't deserve to be treated like this. This was sub par.

She got out her phone from her handbag to unlock it, bloody fingerprints ordering an Uber to get out of here. Far away from here. Back to her Condo in Domino. She didn't even look at him before she stormed away. She didn't give a fuck about what he had to say from here, if anything at all. Heeled steps made their way past several people and servers. She ignored the valet and waited on her Uber. She hoped that Kaiba would never return to this restaurant ever again.

Her car arrived in minutes. A Lincoln town car. She got in on the passenger side, yelling at the driver who wasted time in holding the door for her. She was sick of the luxury treatment.

"You don't need to do that!" Mai exclaimed before he would hesitantly shut the door behind her.

[ohhoworiginalrfaheadcanons]

If MC shows Jumin aspects of “commoner” life, what would his favorite and least favorite parts of that be?

Canonically he actually experiences ‘commoner’ life in his Normal Ending when he quits and just becomes a normal employee. He appears to be thriving, so it’s likely there’s nothing that bothers him too much living life without the golden spoon, despite Zen’s assumptions.

With that in mind, however...it may be easiest to answer this in the form of describing what Jumin likes and dislikes most about his life in the Normal Ending, sans how his relationship with his father would be affected.

Jumin’s feelings about ‘Commoner life’

It’s no secret that Jumin pushes himself extremely hard at work, harder than he pushes anyone else, even Jaehee. Despite what some may think, however, he’s not actually a workaholic - he merely does what he sees is necessary as the Director of C&R.

It’s frankly a relief to no longer be Director of C&R. The responsibilities feel like a literal weight has been lifted off of his shoulders, and merely quitting his job to live with his wife in a simpler life may have immediately lengthened his life.

Sometimes he almost feels like he has too much time on his hands, and if not for his wife being there to spend it with, it’s not that he’d become a workaholic suddenly per se, it’s just that he quite literally wouldn’t be certain what to do with his time if not work. It’s hard to say whether Jaehee would find that funny or frightening.

Has he mentioned how nice it is not to have the constant pressure of ensuring his division succeeds, tracking everything he does to avoid scandals and weighing potential actions against stock prices and investors? All of that is no longer his concern, and while he was still raised in such a way that he’ll never be some wild daredevil, it is quite....freeing, to simply decide whether to do something based on whether it sounds like something he’d like to do.

A smaller paycheck means downsizing everything. No longer can they live in a penthouse or a perfectly designed dream house - now they have a condo somewhere or a modest house. It’s likely that his own personal savings are more than enough to buy either, rather than simply renting them, but it is quite a different feeling. Everywhere he looks isn’t just someone who works for him or a customer of his, but neighbors who have nothing to do with him - or if they were lucky enough to get somewhere more isolated, it’s quiet. He thinks it’s cozy, and with Elizabeth the 3rd and his wife by his side, nowhere is lonely or too quiet.

They sleep longer, and they get vacations that last longer than half a week more often than once every two years.

He never found his old clothing uncomfortable, but the clothing he wears now is almost a physical representation of the way his duties and responsibilities have lifted off of him - no longer so restrictive and monotone, inflexible and constantly forcing him to stand and move in certain ways. He’ll never be caught dead wearing sweats and a t-shirt or anything like that, he still has particular tastes, but a sweater vest over a simple shirt and relaxed slacks with hardly any starch might as well be free flowing robes.

His wife is beautiful and in her element, and it truly feels as if he’s joined her in her world, not plucked her out of hers and forced her into his. And not only does he get to spend more time with her, but he can spend much more time with Elizabeth the 3rd as well, so that neither of his wonderful women become lonely.

There are things he doesn’t particularly care for as much, though:

He no longer has servants, or employees at all. No maid to clean up after him when he gets absent-minded - save his wife, whom he loathes to inconvenience - no chef to make exquisite meals, no Jaehee to handle menial things he’d rather not, and no driver to take him places.

His car is nowhere near as good as the limousine. There’s no phone in it except his own cellphone - and nowhere to put that cellphone. There’s no mini bar, so if he doesn’t think to bring his own drink it’s just not there, and because he’s the one driving, a glass of wine after work on the way home simply isn’t possible anymore. Of course he could have his wife drive...but he wishes to pamper her, firstly, and he doesn’t hate driving, even if he really does need to get a license before he gets himself into trouble.

He doesn’t get to decide his own schedule. Technically he worked for C&R and his father before, but working as a low-level employee is a completely different experience - he’s had it before, when he first started in C&R, but it was long ago and he had nothing to compare it to at the time. If he’d like to work late, he simply isn’t allowed to. If he’d like to take a vacation, it must be approved - though he still somehow manages to take them much more than before, it does rankle at times that he’s quite literally forced to take them.

Even at work, he still has no employees. It goes without saying that at his skill and experience level he’ll rise in the ranks no matter what, but middle management is an entirely different ballgame from being the second in line for an entire corporation. It’s true that being up top is more restrictive than people realize, but at lower levels, he is his own assistant.

The plants aren’t his, but it still drives him up the wall to watch how carelessly people flood them and poorly take care of them at work.

There’s no real way around it: cheap food just isn’t as good as expensive food. Despite popular opinion, rich people also have pizza and hamburgers if they want to - they’re just made of higher quality, more expensive ingredients, by chefs who are just better at making them. It’s not impossible to afford more expensive food, but it’s a luxury he can only indulge in sometimes now.

Elizabeth the 3rd is suffering most from all of it: she can no longer afford the most expensive and pampering cat hotels, the best sitters, the best groomers, the best food, or the best care. It also, unfortunately, ended her career as a poster cat. It’s perhaps his least favorite part of commoner life: living rough himself is one thing, but making her do it as well feels unnecessarily cruel.

In the end, there are both positive sides to commoner life over his golden spoon life and negatives. Unlike what Zen might believe, Jumin is perfectly capable of adapting to it - though on his own he’d likely end up climbing the ranks again by his pure effort, skill, and ambition. With his wife, however, he’ll be happy no matter what kind of life he has. If he resigns from C&R to be with her, he’ll adapt to commoner life alongside her, and likely never move beyond a content middle-management businessman who works alongside her, takes vacations annually, and struggles to pamper his cat himself.

[puccbunni]

“Friends” Pt.2

| Auston Matthews | Maple Leafs |

{ Senorita - Shawn Mendes, Camila Cabello }

Hey guys I am so sorry for the gap in between parts 1 and 2 I’ve just been crazy busy moving, but here is part 2 for everyone!! This has been edited with the precision of a kindergartener.

Also to anyone living in the US Happy Thanksgiving Yall ❤️

WARNINGS:

Swearing

Drinking

Smut (sorry!! Not sorry 🙄)

A light knocking wakes you from your sleep, you grab your phone to look at the time and see that it’s almost two in the afternoon. After leaving Austons condo at four that same morning you booked an Uber back to your apartment and was able to thankful sneak back in without waking Steph or Mitch.

“Yeah” you call out to who you presume is Steph.

The door opens and Steph walks in with a bottle of water and painkillers and sets them on your nightstand.

“Hey hun how you feeling?” She asks handing you two painkillers.

“Just tired,you?” You take the two painkillers from Steph and pray they quickly mend your throbbing head.

“A little hungover but nothing too bad.” She says as you reach back over for your phone to check through your notifications.

Steph continues talking to you but you are barely listening as you see a message from Auston.

Auston:

Didn’t want to say goodbye?

Your cheeks start to darken as memories from the night before come flooding back.

“Who are you talking to?” Steph asks trying to peer over the top of your phone.

“Ahh no one, just a friend.” You say locking your phone and tossing it to the other side of your bed.

“The same friend you disappeared with last night?”

“What?” You stare at Steph, not knowing how you were going to explain your way out of this one.

“I left because I felt sick.”

Maybe she saw you and Auston leave the bar together, or maybe she just put two and two together after you and Auston both disappeared at the same time.

“Oh Please, Mitch heard you sneak back in this morning!” She laughs. “So was this ‘friend’ good?”

“Maybe.” You mumble, bring the covers up to hide your face.

“Do I get to know his name at least?” She asked pulling the covers away from your face.

His name... there was one problem with that, did Auston want people to know you had hooked up? That was a question you didn’t know the answer to because you were too chicken shit to wait until the boy woke up to leave.

“Umm just a guy from my history class, you wouldn’t know him.” You lie hoping she won’t push the topic any further.

“Mmhmm, well who ever he is at least you are finally getting some, I thought you’d turned into a nun there for a second.” She laughs leaving you alone with your thoughts.

Steph did have a point besides your little escapade from the night before, you hadn’t slept with anyone since your ex boyfriend, Elliot, had broken up with you 6 months ago via text after 3 years of being together, claiming ‘it was too hard for him to do it in person’. He too had started out as a friend but after spending every day together it quickly turned into more, although you hadn’t slept with Elliot before you had started dating. After the breakup it took you a few months for you to get your life back to normal and not feel like you would burst into tears whenever you were alone. It was for this reason you had decided against the whole dating thing to protect your still slightly broken heart.

But now you had really gone and put your foot in it by sleeping with Auston, it wasn’t like you regretted it, hell it had been the best sex you’d had in a long while, but you knew that sex complicated things, it always complicated things. That’s part of the reason you had left before he woke up, so you could just avoid the awkward conversation and pretend like nothing ever happened and that’s exactly what you plan to do.

It had been almost a month since the night you had slept with Auston and you would be lying if the events of that night hadn’t crept their way into your mind especially while you were laying in bed, trying to lull yourself to sleep. But no amount of cold showers helped stop the images flashing through your brain, this had you pent up and frustrated beyond belief which is why when a few friends from your classes in college mentioned going to a bar you jumped at the chance to find some male attention to help give you some relief between your aching thighs.

You had been sat at the bar with three of your friends for a few hours now just sipping on your beer and talking about one of your recent classes and your mutual dislike for the professor. It was a slow night with no one particularly catching your eye. Just as you were about to give up on your search you heard your name shouted from across the bar.

“Y/N!” You turn your head in the direction it had come from to see a familiar mop of blonde hair.

“Willy, hey.” You slip from your stool as he pulls you in for a hug.

“What are you doing here?” You ask.

“We just got back from a road trip and thought we’d celebrate with a few drinks.” He replies.

“We?” You raise your brow looking at Willy and seeing no one around him.

“Yeah, Auston’s here.” He motions towards the door and that’s when you notice his brunette curls above the rest of the crowd.

As Auston gets closer he’s scanning the room looking for Willy and your eyes meet, the side of his mouth pulls up into a slight smirk and you can already tell the rest of your night is about to get a whole lot more interesting.

“You’re alive.” Auston says stopping about a foot in front of you eyeing you up and down.

“Last time I checked.” You shrugged trying to play cool as you calmed your raging nerves.

“Huh just hadn’t heard from you, thought you had to have been dead.” He crosses his large arms across his broad chest.

“Nope, just busy I guess.”

Will starts up a conversation with you and you introduce them both to your friends who invite the pair to join your group much to your frustration they agree to join. Auston had chosen to sit next to you and with the close proximity you could smell his cologne and feel the heat radiating from his arm that would lightly brush against yours every so often. You spent most of the next hour trying not to make eye contact with Auston or trying to put a tiny bit more space between the two of you without anyone noticing the thick tension between you both. No matter how hard you tried or how many more drinks you downed you couldn’t stop the wetness pooling in your lower half, so you excused yourself and went outside the bar just to get some much needed fresh air. You closed your eyes and inhaled deeply taking in the cool Toronto air, you really needed to get a grip, it was one time, one brief lapse in judgement, one night, you really shouldn’t be giving it this much thought and it didn’t have to be this awkward, you were friends, that’s all just friends. So you just needed to treat him like a friend right??

“Y/N.” A voice pulls you out of your thoughts and you don’t need to open your eyes to know who it was.

“Auston.” You reply.

“You okay?” He asks as he stands just in front of you forcing you to meet his eye for the first time in the last hour.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You ask back, dropping your eyes to the ground.

“Hey, look at me.” Auston gently places a hand under your chin encouraging you to look at him. There’s a look in his eye it looks like he’s almost worried, nervous even.

“If you regret what happened...”

“I don’t regret it.” The words fly out of your mouth before you can stop them.

“Sleeping with you, I mean, I don’t... uh... I don’t regret it.”

You see the worry quickly leave his eyes.

“Then why are you avoiding me huh?”

“I am not avoiding you.” You lie.

He cocks his eyebrow.

“Pfft, you left before I woke up.”

“And?” You shrug.

“And then you didn’t reply to my text.” He continues.

“That’s not me avoiding you, like I said that’s me being busy Auston.” You say as convincingly as you could.

“Okay and what about tonight, you haven’t said more than a handful of words to me and you cant even look at me.”

“What do you want me to say?” You ask.

“What ever the hell is going on in that head of yours, we’re friends Y/N...” but before he can finish what he’s saying you cut him off.

“We were friends Auston, but we fucked that up.” You take a step back from him.

“How did we fuck up anything?” He asks looking genuinely confused.

“Sex. It always complicates things, it fucks up everything.” You say bluntly.

“I disagree.” He states.

“Of course you do.” You roll your eyes.

“No seriously, we had fun, well I think we had fun...” he pauses look at you for an answer.

“It was fun I guess.” You say quietly avoiding eye contact. You hear him laugh slightly at your response before he continues.

“Then what’s the problem? What’s wrong with two friends having a little fun together?” He asks.

You look at him for a second and a thought enters your mind for the first time, friends could have fun together right, and it could just be friends, no emotions no feelings, just fun. So with the courage granted to you from the copious amount of alcohol flowing through your bloodstream you look Auston in the eye and ask

“Is that what you want?”

“What?” He cocks an eyebrow, confused by the question.

“Friends, that have fun. Is that what you want?” You ask taking a step closer towards him.

“Do you mean friends with benefits?”

You simply nod.

“Are you offering to be friends with benefits with me Y/N?”

“I like being friends with you Auston, and I don’t wanna loose that friendship and this.” You motion between the two of you.

“This is awkward and I hate it, and that’s partly my fault I shouldn’t have left before we spoke that morning I am sorry. But I am not ready for something serious and I didn’t want to have that conversation hungover. And I am sorry I didn’t reply to you I just didn’t know what to say. But you’re right that night was fun and if you want we can keep having fun, no emotions, no expectations just fun.” You say trying to gauge his reaction.

“You’re being serious?” He asks. His eyes dancing with mischief and excitement in a way that was turning you on.

“You want this Y/N?”

You simply nod again.

“I need to hear you say it baby.” He says closing the gap between you.

You bite your bottom lip hearing his nickname for you as the wetness in between your legs becomes more and more intense.

“I want this.” You say as his lips crash down onto yours.

You wrap your hands around his neck feeling the back of his brunette curls brush against your fingertips as his large hands slid down to your waist, slowly running up and down your curves until they landed on the curve of your ass. You bit down on his bottom lip needing more, more for from the kiss, more from Auston, a low moan came from the back of his throat as he took your cue and deepened the kiss and as his tongue entered his mouth you tugged tighter on his hair.

“Umm Y/N?” Your friend Sarah said as she opened the door to the bar.

You quickly jumped apart from Auston and brought your hand up to you lips as if to hide any evidence of what you and Auston were just doing.

“Yeah Sarah what’s up?” You ask trying to act as normal as possible.

“We were just heading off but didn’t want to leave Will by himself.” She explains looking between you and Auston.

“Oh okay uhh... we will come in.” You say as you walk past her and back into the bar.

As you pass her she gives a quick smirk and whispers

“You have some explaining to do on Monday.” You cheeks go a deep red shade as you drop your head and walk back to where the rest of the group was sat.

After your friends had left you sat with Willy and Auston sipping on your drink, looking at Auston over the top of your bottle trying desperately to pay attention to whatever it was Willy was saying, and not climb across the table and crawl into Austons lap in front of the entire bar. But Auston was making this far to hard, the way his hand was twirling his drink in his hand made you think of how his hands ran up and down your waist, how they gripped your ass tightly as he deepened the kiss you two had shared no long ago. The way his leg brushed against yours under the table. Or how you knew his eyes were mentally undressing you right in that very moment. You tried to squeeze your thighs together to bring some relief to your aching core, but it was no use because you knew the only thing that was going to bring you relief was the man sat right in front of you only a few feet away.

“Y/N?” Will asks snapping you out of your trance.

“Huh, sorry Will what did you say.” You ask shaking your head.

“I asked if you wanted another drink, are you okay?” He asks looking concerned.

“You look a little flushed.”

“I uhh I think I’ve had a bit too much to drink maybe I should go.” You say purposely stumbling as you stood from your seat.

You locked eyes with Auston, hoping he would get your drift and play along and thankfully he did.

“Yeah maybe I should get you an Uber.” He says standing and coming over to your side putting an arm around you waist to steady you.

“Maybe Matts should go with you, you really don’t look so good Y/N.” Willy suggests.

“I am so sorry Willy.” You apologise leaning closer into Auston.

“Don’t be as long as you’re all good.”

“Thank you.” You mumble

“You got her Matts?” Will asks Auston.

“Yeah of course, the Uber’s on its way, I’ll see you tomorrow man.” He says as he helps guide you towards the door.

As soon as the Uber pulls up you open the door and slide in practically dragging Auston in behind you and as soon he shuts the door behind him you attach your lips to his. Auston pulls back slightly and you give him a quizzical look

“What’s wrong?” You ask worrying that he had changed his mind about your new little arrangement.

“I thought you were drunk.” He says looking at you.

“I mean yeah that’s what typically happens at a Bar Auston.” You state as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Wait so you’re good, I just don’t want to take advantage of you if you’re too far gone.” He says tucking a stray piece of your hair behind your ear.

“Aust, I am good, I swear. But thank you for checking.” You say pecking his lips.

“I just needed to get out of there because I was about 30 seconds away from crawling over the table and fucking you in that bar.” You whisper into his ear as you lightly bite on his earlobe.

Auston groaned and squeezed his eyes shut, as he opened them you saw that his pupils had blown and had darken. He lightly grabbed you by the throat and brought your lips to his. His tongue quickly entered your mouth as he moved his hand from your throat to your hair tangling his fingers into your long strands. You ran your hands over his hard chest as you moaned into the kiss tugging on he’s black button up shirt wanting it off.

“Patience, baby.” He mumbled

His lips detaching from yours and he kissed along your jaw and down your neck sucking and nipping softly until he reached your sweet spot just above your collar bone, a soft whined echoed through the small space of the car, you could feel Auston smile against your skin as he began sucking harder you had to bite down on your bottom lip to stop the moans from falling out of your mouth. You felt his other calloused hand run up your the inside of your thighs and begin to stroke your clothed core. You tried to grip his wrist to stop his advances as you became painfully aware of the driver sat less then a foot away from you. But this didn’t stop him as he slipped a finger past your laced panties and into you dripping folds.

“Jesus.” He moaned against your skin as he felt the wetness that had pooled in your core. He spread you wetness running is fingers from your clit back down to you entrance teasing it slightly every time he brushed over the opening. Your hips bucked trying to find just a tiny bit more pleasure from his fingertips as you began rubbing yourself against his hand not caring how needy you being. Auston bought his finger back to your entrance and slipped his middle finger in slowly pumping it in and out, your nails raked down the front of his chest as he added a second finger bringing his thumb up to your clit and started rubbing firm circles on your sensitive bud. Maybe it was the fact it had been almost a month since anyone had touched you or the fact a stranger was sat right in front of you but you could feel your orgasim building quickly, like a steam train with no breaks. You run your hands up to cup Austons cheeks as you guide his lips back to yours in hopes you can drown out your moans in the kiss. Feeling your walls contract around his fingers, Auston increased his speed pumping in and out faster and deeper than before, whilst applying more pressures your clit.

“Let go baby.” He groaned softly in your ear. And at those words your orgasim crashed over you like waves on a shoreline. You dropped you head onto Austons shoulder and bit your lip so hard you were truly shocked you didn’t draw blood. Austons fingers didn’t stop moving until you had ridden out every last drop of pleasure he could give to you in the back seat of the Uber. After you had finished you looked up at Auston and giggled slightly your cheeks flushing from embarrassment, Auston removed his fingers from your sensitive core and you whined quietly at the sudden loss. He bought his fingers to his mouth and licked them clean, never breaking eye contact with you. You adjust your underwear and dress so that they sat back where they were supposed to.

“We might have to give him a tip.” You mumble into Austons neck as he swings his arm around you. You sit in silence for the rest of the painfully long car ride back to Austons.

[hopelikethemoon]

Hangover (Javier x Reader) {MTMF} [smut]

Title: Hangover Rating: Explicit  Length: 3700 Warnings: Angst, Pining and Smut (Drunk Sex, Unprotected Sex)  Notes: You can find the Maybe Today, Maybe Forever Timeline here. If you’ve read Promises then you know how this evening goes... but now you get to experience Javier’s side of things. Summary: Javier’s POV of the night that changed everything. 

Taglist:  @grapemama  @seawhisperer @huliabitch @pedropascalito@rogrsnbarnes@thewallpapergoesorido @twomoonstwosuns @gooddaykate @livasaurasrex @ham4arrow@hiscyarika @plexflexico @readsalot73 @hdlynn @lokiaddicted @randomness501@fioccodineveautunnale  @roxypeanut @just-add-butter @snivellusim@amarvelousmandalorian @lukesrighthand @historynerd04@mrsparknuts@synystersilenceinblacknwhite @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead@exrebelshocktrooper@awesomefandomsunited @ah-callie @swhiskeys @lady-tano @beskar-droids @space-floozy @cable-kenobi @longitud-de-onda @cool-ultra-nerd @himbopoes@findhimfives @pedrosdoll @seeking-a-great--perhaps​ @frietiemeloen​

The reality of Steve leaving Colombia hadn’t really hit Javier until he was sitting across the booth from him and Connie, listening to them discuss the condo they found in Miami. What sort of bullshit was that? Sure, Pablo Escobar was dead — things were changing at the office, but Steve’s departure had seemed like a far off thing. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, Javier knew Connie was miserable. Her agitation with life in Colombia had been growing more and more apparent since Christmas. 

If Escobar hadn’t died, Steve still would’ve left. Javier understood why, but it didn’t make it any easier. Why couldn’t Connie take the kid and just go back to the states and live with her mother or whatever? Why did she have to ruin a good thing? 

Apparently, that was what happened when you were in a relationship. You had to make concessions to keep the peace. Fucking stupid, if you asked him. Then again, he’d never been particularly good at that. Meeting someone halfway. 

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. 

Steve had warned him. Repeatedly. Not always in a straightforward manner, but it was always implied. Don’t fuck it up with the only other person in the world that could put up with Javier Peña. Steve made a great buffer, running interference between them. Without him, he was bound to self-destruct. 

She leaned against him, resting her cheek against his shoulder. “Do you think they’ll miss us?” 

He hoped they would. 

“You know Murphy’s a sap.” Javier gave a short chuckle, “They’ll trade us in for a new bunch of assholes and forget our names.”

Now it was just the two of them. 

They’d spent nights at the bar together before, but it was different now. There was no Steve to hold him accountable. To be the constant reminder for why this was a terrible idea. He never knew just how deep of an issue it was for Javier. Not really. He kept that bottled up inside. 

She wasn’t just some woman he wanted to fuck, not the way Steve thought. 

“Who am I going to have dinner with now?” She questioned and his eyes were drawn to the way her lips rested against the mouth of her beer bottle. “Five years of home-cooked meals.”

Javier forced himself to stop staring at her lips. “I’m not half bad.”

“I’ve seen your kitchen.” She shot back with a roll of her eyes. “Go get more beer.” She urged, nudging him in the ribs. Had she noticed the way he was staring at her? Was his want that obvious? Sometimes it felt like he’d put up a neon sign announcing just how bad he had it for her. 

“Alright. Alright.” He grabbed the empty bottle from her. His first mistake. He’d misjudged where her hand was on the bottle, his fingertips brushing against hers. God, he was a fucking idiot. They touched each other all the time and he was going to feel all warm and tingly over touching her fingers?

Javier slid out of the bar, thankful for the space between them. 

He needed to get his head on straight before he made a decision he’d come to regret for the rest of his life. Losing Steve hurt like a son of a bitch, but losing her? That was a bleak fucking outlook. 

If he was going to lose her too, why couldn’t he give in to that desire? Everything else was falling apart, maybe he’d luck out. Maybe this thing with her wouldn’t end in ruin. There had been so many little moments where he’d thought… maybe she was just as terrified of ruining this thing they had as he was. 

Javier ordered himself a shot of whiskey, knocking it back before he headed back to the table with their beers. He slid into the booth beside her. Maybe he could push his luck. See where it led him. See if she picked up what he was putting down.

“Here you go, baby.” He drawled out, letting the pet name curl on his tongue. Javier gave her leg a squeeze — he’d touched her like that a dozen times. But there was an added weight to his touch this time. An unspoken question as he let it linger there. 

He drew his bottle to his lips, taking a swig. 

Fuck. 

She shuffled closer, her leg pressed against his. He felt that warmth spread all the way to his chest — and his cock. 

He sat the beer bottle down, turning his head to look at her. She looked gorgeous sitting there. Color had risen to her cheeks and he doubted it was just from the alcohol. He wanted nothing more than to sink his fingers into her hair and kiss her. 

Javier drew faint patterns against her leg, no rhyme or reason to them, aside from the way he hesitantly drew them towards her inner thigh. She hadn’t pulled away, she hadn’t told him to stop. 

“Javi.” She whispered, lashes fluttering as she met his gaze. Here it came… she was going to tell him to stop. Wasn’t she? No. No. Instead, she leaned closer, so close that he could feel her breath against his lips. 

“I’m sad, do you think you can help with that?”

Fuck. 

His cock throbbed in his jeans. 

Javier had seen her work her magic before. The way she chewed on her bottom lip and fluttered her lashes and drew men to her. And here he was, letting her pull him into her web. Happily. This was a moment five years in the making.

If he had been a worse man than he already was, he would’ve fucked her that first night. She’d had his attention from the first time she put him in his place. And right now, his place was between her thighs. 

“I bet I know a surefire way to make both of us very happy.” Javier said lowly, flashing a charming grin to offset the rush of nerves that flooded his senses. He was playing a dangerous game. He couldn’t remember ever being this worried about fucking someone. He didn’t want to fuck this up. 

“You’re such a bastard.” She taunted him, her legs parting beneath the table to give his hand better access. Who was he to deny her what she wanted? He’d give her everything he had to give, if he could. 

Javier ran his fingers along her inner thigh, sliding up until he reached the seam of her jeans. He could feel the heat radiating from her cunt through the fabric and he felt his pulse quicken when her lips parted and she swore in response. 

She was so fucking perfect. The way she tried to remain composed, bringing her bottle to her lips and drinking even as he stroked his thumb over her. He shifted closer to her, eyes fixed to her face. Watching the way her lips parted, the way new color burned at her cheeks.

“Shhh.” He crooned as he circled that little bundle of nerves through her jeans. He’d found it, he knew he had because her lips parted and she moaned. A sound he never wanted her to make for anyone else. He wanted to be greedy. To finally claim what he’d been dying to claim.

“Then kiss me.” She hissed out, eyes flashing to his. 

Javier practically pounced. He had been waiting for this moment, waiting to know that she wanted him too. 

Her fingers curled around the back of his neck, holding him to her as their mouths moved together. He felt like a fucking idiot for waiting this long to kiss her. She tasted like heaven on his tongue. Her mouth was just as perfect as he’d thought it would be. 

Why had he denied himself for so fucking long?

She drew back first, her name on his lips and her hand still curled around the back of his neck, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “I need to go to the bathroom.” 

Shit. Fucking finally. 

“So do I.” He rasped out, circling her sensitive flesh through her jeans again before he pulled his hand away. He grabbed his beer, taking a swig, before he slid out of the booth.

She was right behind him, keeping close as they wound their way through the bar, back to the bathroom. Javier could hardly wait to get her alone, pressing her back against the wall the second the door closed. 

He’d waited too long for this. He couldn’t fucking believe that she wanted him too. He had always thought she was made of far finer stuff than he was. That she’d never want him the way he wanted her — but she did. She wanted him. 

Maybe something good would come from Steve leaving. Maybe he could finally be with the woman he couldn’t get out of his head. How many times had he buried himself in some pretty hooker who looked just enough like her that he could pretend for a few fleeting seconds that he was hers?

Javier’s fingers made quick work of her jeans, practically ripping the zipper open as he shoved them down her hips. His hands slid over her hips, greedily taking advantage of newly bared skin. He hooked his finger in her underwear, dragging them down to her knees. 

Fuck. She was soaking wet. His fingers slid between her folds, circling that little bundle of nerves he’d already teased. He wanted to taste her, to lose himself between her legs and forget everything else. Javier wanted to prove to her that he could be more than what she’d seen from him over the course of five years. Or maybe just convince her that he was good enough for her. Convince himself too. 

“Is that all for me?” He questioned, lips brushing over hers as he pressed a finger into her. 

“Fuck you, Javi.” She groaned out, sinking back against the wall. Her tits looked fucking fantastic. All of her looked fantastic. 

He met her eyes, swallowing thickly to keep the words he wanted to say from escaping him. He wanted to confess it all. To confess how stupid he’d been for years. To beg her not to leave him. To promise her that everything she’d known of him before this moment didn’t matter. He could be hers. 

Instead he latched onto her throat, leaving open-mouthed kisses along the column of her throat as he worked his finger in and out of her, his thumb circling her clit. He wanted to make her come. To feel her twitch and writhe for him. He wanted her. 

Javier pulled his hand away abruptly, kissing her soundly on the lips before he drew her away from the wall. The bathroom wasn’t very large, it was easy enough to usher them both towards the sink — giving her somewhere to hold on to.

He hardly got his jeans down his thighs, before he was moving behind her. She looked so perfect, lips parted, eyes wide with desire. He gripped at her hip, holding onto her like he never wanted to let her go as he pressed into her. 

“Yes!“ She cried out as her back arched. He buried the length of his cock within her slick heat, savoring how perfect she felt around him. Better than anything he’d ever dreamed of. Better than he pictured as he got himself off with his need for her. 

“Fuck, Javi—” Her words were cut off by another moan. 

Javier brushed her hair aside, pressing a soft kiss to her neck, tongue sweeping out to tease her skin. He grasped at her breast, palming it roughly through her shirt as his other hand gripped her hip, holding her steady. 

He caught her gaze in the mirror. Her expression was unreadable. He wished he knew what was going through her mind. If this was just a mindless fuck to forget how shitty things were or if this meant something to her. If this had been a long time coming for her too. 

He could’ve rushed it. He could’ve taken her the way he’d taken the women that he pretended were her. It could’ve been hard and fast, desperate for release. But he wanted to savor this. In case this was all he’d ever have. In case she’d slip out of his grasp, another reminder that this sort of shit wasn’t for him. Emotions had no place in his life. 

She clenched around him as his slow pace faltered, her name on his tongue as he kept rolling his hips into her. Holding her gaze. Baring his soul to her through their reflection.

Javier reached downwards, fingers finding her clit once more as he teased her. She made the most glorious faces when he touched her just right. The way she clenched around him, desire running high. 

She reached behind her, grabbing at the back of his neck and he let her pull him towards her. He kissed her, lips slanting over hers. That was all it took. Kissing him set her over the edge, her cunt pulsing around his cock as she came apart. 

He was so close. He could feel the build-up of his own release, the tight clench of her body milking it from him, and he started to pull out, cognisant of the fact that they hadn’t exactly been smart about this. But her fingers tightened around the back of his neck when he started to withdraw. 

“Need you.” She whispered, “Don’t stop.” 

Fuck. 

He pressed his lips to the back of her shoulder, teeth scraping over her skin through her shirt as he panted out her name. He wanted more. He wanted her legs wrapped around his hips as he got off. 

Javier pulled back, giving her little time to protest as he turned her around and picked her up to sit on the edge of the sink. 

“Fucking perfect.” He muttered as he lined himself up and pressed back into her. This time he wasn’t as slow, as reverent. He was chasing his release. Chasing the need he had for her. She clenched, aftershocks of her release still making her cling to him as he slammed into her again and again. 

His lips threatened to spill his deepest secrets as his cock twitched within her. He came with a grunt of her name, buried within her, lost to the sensation of it all. How had he gone this long without her? Now that he had her, he didn’t want to let go of her. 

“Birth control.” She promised him, resting her forehead against his shoulder — where she always rested her cheek. “Fuck.” The lightness in her voice made his heart ache. 

Javier wrapped his arms around her, not just to support her where she was perched, but to draw her closer to him. “You feel so good.” He mumbled, lips pressed against her shoulder. 

“I didn’t take you for a cuddler,” She laughed, warm and bright and everything he needed. Fuck — he was definitely just this side of tipsy. Drunk on her. And the pleasure warm in his veins didn’t help. “I’m impressed.” She teased and he held her a little tighter. 

He pulled back, just enough to look at her. She was perfect. Hair clinging to her cheeks, just begging for him to push back behind her ears. How was he supposed to walk away from this? To go back to a life where he didn’t know how good it felt to be with her? 

Years of verbal foreplay had led them to this moment and he didn’t want it to end.

“Come back to mine?” God, she’d break his heart if she shot him down. 

“Sure.” She whispered, brows furrowed with an uncertainty that made his heart clench. 

———

That uncertainty was gone by the time they reached his apartment. She had joined him on his sofa with the bottle of whiskey she’d stolen from his liquor cabinet. 

“I’d suggest a shot glass…” She had drawled out, taking a drink straight from the bottle. “But I don’t think we’re very worried about germs right now.” She passed the bottle to him, practically straddling his lap in her pursuit to kiss him. 

He held the back of her neck with one hand, kissing her back with equal fervor, before he pulled back to take a drink. “Can’t be too worried about germs.” Javier drawled out, raking a hungry look over her. “Am I leaking out of you right now, baby?” He questioned, hand moving between her thighs to cup her cunt through her jeans.

“Fuck off, Javi.” She breathed out, even as she kissed him again. 

This was what he wanted. The banter, the sex, the way she made his heart ache. He wanted this woman. He wanted every part of her. Not just for tonight.

Javier took another gulp of whiskey, offering the bottle back to her. “Always wondered what you looked like.” He remarked, running his hand up over her torso to grasp her breast as she rocked against his lap again. 

“Hmm?” She questioned, licking her bottom lip as she swallowed. “How I looked?”

He shook his head. Did he really want to admit that he’d spent years wondering what she’d look like coming for him? Did he really want to push his fragile brush with luck? He’d already fucked things up seven ways to Sunday, but that seemed like an admission he should hold back on. There was a lot better left unsaid. 

“Nothing.” He grinned at her. Javier ran his thumb over her collarbone, before he leaned towards her and kissed her again. It was a slow kiss, lips sliding over her lips, their tongues hesitantly finding each other. But the kiss grew, taking on a life of its own. Desperate and needy, fueled by the warmth of the whiskey in their veins. 

Javier peeled her shirt off as he guided her back onto the sofa. Her bra followed seconds later. He kissed his way down her throat, tongue tracing a line down the valley of her breast as he grabbed ahold of them. He relished the way she moaned beneath them, the way she rocked her hips upwards, grinding against his cock as he mouthed at her breast. 

He wanted to live in this moment forever.

She forced open the snaps of his shirt, fingers mapping out a path over his bare skin. Her fingers burned everywhere she touched him. Javier had no idea how they managed to get each other’s pants off, but they did. 

She stroked him teasingly as she guided him between her thighs, legs wrapped around his hips. He was nearly certain that he could die a happy man, now that he knew what it felt like to be in her. He clung to her, desperate to make it so he never had to let her go. He tried to prove to her that he wasn’t like the man she thought he was. She knew him better than anyone else, even Steve. She knew what a fuck up he was, but now — here — he wanted to convince her that it wasn’t the case. 

He could change. He could try. 

The bottle of whiskey was finished off before they found their way into his bed.

Proof enough that he wasn’t a changed man. 

Because the man she knew best was definitely a man who would get shitfaced and fuck his partner. That was the Javier Peña she loved to hate. 

But he still tried to convince her. Tried to promise parts of himself that he didn’t think he actually had. But he could try. Maybe he could pull it together. She was certainly motivation enough. The DEA had taken so much of him, but maybe he had just enough left to give her. 

He just couldn’t fucking believe that he had her. That she was there, in his bed, in his arms. She fit so perfectly against him. Warm and real and his… for the moment. Javier pressed his face into the crook of her neck, arm wrapped around her waist as he let exhaustion start to pull him under. 

Tomorrow. 

He’d make her breakfast in the morning and tell her everything tomorrow. He was too fucking drunk and blissed out to put together coherent thoughts tonight. Otherwise, he’d tell her then. He’d tell her what he needed to tomorrow. He’d spill his guts and pull his shit together then. 

But morning came. 

The bright sun streaming through his window seemed to mock the bleakness that had taken up residence in his bedroom. He knew the moment he woke up that she was gone. Not just because she wasn’t in his arms, but because he felt the absence of her presence. She was gone and maybe for good.

Could he blame her? How many women had she seen him go home with over the past five years? From the same bar she’d come home with him from. How many stories about hookers and informants had she been privy to?  Not that she hadn’t done the same before. He’d watched her flirt with men in that same bar. Let her freely talk about everything the day after. Nothing had ever been a secret between them…

Except for his feelings for her. 

None of the women had ever been her. No one had made him feel the stupid fucking things she made him feel. 

Steve had tried to warn him. Maybe not in so many words, but he’d tried to prevent this from happening. He’d tried to keep Javier from getting his heartbroken, not that anyone would believe he had a heart. He’d buried his emotions pretty fucking well. But he hadn’t shielded himself from her.

He had been such a fucking idiot. 

Somehow, she had seen through him. Realized he had nothing to give but heartbreak. 

He was bound to fuck up. Better to lose her now, than lose her to his own faults and failures. 

There were so many almosts. 

He had almost told her how he felt six months ago. When her blood was still staining his hands. A confession that would’ve been set to a backdrop of a heart monitor and the frantic voices of doctors as they rushed to stop the bleeding. 

But the moment faded as easily as her blood had washed off his hands. 

Javier pulled himself out of bed and found a new bottle of whiskey to crack into. Hair of the dog to chase away his hangover. Except it wasn’t whiskey that had left him hurting. 

[diariesof-kg]

Love & Order.

08_01_2021

I am bothered that I keep having dreams about this person. I am confused why my mind is going in reverse.  Why my mind creates these visuals of us happy and being together when that could never be.  Perhaps it’s the illusion of the mind.  Perhaps my dream is the reality of false hopes.  It’s strange and I need it to stop.  There are moments that I do miss, I can be honest about but I feel as those the rush of disappointments erased all of that.

I do embrace the dreams because they are true feelings that I had. I really loved and cared about her deeply.  It is extremely hard to make me fall in love.  I don’t rush into using the word love either.  I have to feel it on a spiritual level before it leaves my mouth.  I am at most disappointed with myself though. I reflect a lot and think, girl, you were blinded because you left a lot of people behind for things they did to you and you couldn’t see any of this coming.  But relationships are complicated as usual.  The last time we had a disagreement, was when she was doing my hair.  And I remember I just got over it quick and asked for a kiss.  And that was the end of it.  There are positive reasons why I stayed although it felt toxic as hell.  I had experienced things I didn’t experience in my past relationships.  I legit slept on the couch, floor after an argument from my past.  I legit couldn’t get a hug or kiss. It was bad and so part of me was getting something different and I stayed.  There were positive moments.

After the court proceedings, I reflected on what was said.  She said she bit me to get me to leave.  But I was bit outside of your residence and it wasn’t a nibble, it was cuts in my arms and a nasty bruise that looked gross overtime.  That statement made me sick to my stomach.  It just reminded me of victims in domestic violence situations get blamed for them being harmed.  She admitted to it, but still didn’t apologize.  It was disgusting.  This is why I will speak on what happened to me to the masses.  Because there are so many victims who live in silence, because of how conditioned they have become from their partners.  Like when she told me her friend slit her wrist and wrote I love you all over the girlfriend walls because they were breaking up.  What excuse is that?  What if your friend killed her girlfriend, you are going to blame the dead? She shouldn’t have broken up with someone crazy, then she’d be alive.  This is truthfully sick.  It makes sense why your friends are your friends and why as a flock of pigeons, neither one of you really held each other accountable.  Her and her friends find excuses to one’s actions and blames the victims.  That’s honestly scary.  I am lowkey scared for my life now.  I mean wow.  And then the person who paid you to mail drugs or what have you told you the police was coming and to not come home.  I should report his ass. LOL.  He part of the problem too.  You have a whole ring device to avoid the police from your recreational activities. Oh boy.

I am at peace though.  I feel refreshed after everything that has happened.  I wish I could date someone else, but I am stuck, well my soul is stuck on the person who betrayed me.  I am patiently waiting for everything to resolve itself, so that I can move on and be with someone else.  I feel like the timing and the universe will work itself out.  I honestly love the Buffins.  The way they built their foundation and their relationship is goals.  They both have great work ethics and indulge in each other.  I know where they are with each other took a lot of time, but when you know that person is your forever I am going to have to assume something silently dings.  I thought she was my person too, but somehow I was wrong.  Still upset with myself about that.  I even thought, what if all this blows over and we reunite but then I think to myself, she told a federal employee that I stole her identity.  I just can’t forgive that.  That’s really dangerous to lie like that.  You walking around Los Angeles telling lies like that.  I work for the government how gross can you get.  You could make up any lie on me but that is too far.  Even the lawyer was shocked and was like, you work with so many people, why would you choose her.  Especially when they ask if she has a job or monies.  They trying to understand the motive here.  Like that is disgusting.  That’s part of my story too.  Like I said, someone else is for me.  A soulmate.  A lifetime partner.  I just have to be patient enough.  I want to move in with my partner and travel together.  I want to propose the whole nine.

So before everything hit the fan, I had this plan to ask her to be my gf.  The only person that knew of this was my bff Nay.  I had told her to ask her what kind of ring she likes and all these questions.  I started taking her out on random dates just to see how things could go.  I had bought a ring, lordt nobody knows, because they’d all kill me. Lol.  But I did.  You can even check my bookmarks.  Even when I was planning Big Sur, it was all part of the plot.  I remember trying to figure out how to get her out of the resort room to set this all up.  I even reached out to a planner.  I am very romantic when it comes to showing my partner love.  I don’t believe in showing it upfront all the time, because its cliche.  I even had the idea of at my house.  It was a thing.  And this was being planned since December.  I think my bff did ask silver or gold and my bff said silver.  It was bound to happen regardless of us being on bad terms, because I never give up on what I truly feel.  But parts of me is glad I saw those tweets.  Because I would have been a dumbass bish looking real stupid.  I mean I still looked stupid because I was loyal and not being flirtatious to others. I am still upset at my damn self to be honest.

I wake up everyday feeling great, because I can replan it for someone else.  I can fall in love with someone else.  I can spoil someone else who will truly love and care about me.  Who is secure within themselves and open.  That is what keeps me going.  Even though I felt broken after April 30th, I told my therapist no one will ever want me.  And I cried for a week.  I look back and think damn I survived that.  Someone will accept me as damage goods and understand my past.  I do believe it will happen soon.  It’s difficult being that covid has made its rounds again.  But I took time from work to refocus on a few things.  My room is almost done.  Its going to be like a spiritual room when you walk in.  You can meditate, write on the board of things you want to let go of and then it’s just that.  I my friends to feel at peace when they come in.  I know it seems strange but that’s how I want my condo to be as well.  Like a zen vibe.  I am just waiting for more stuff to be delivered.  I am excited about that.  I have not have the urge to hop back on any dating sites.  I do feel different about myself.  I have never had trust issues at all.  And now I do.  I am definitely scared to get to know someone or allow them to know me.  It’s not a good feelings at all.  But I do want to be with someone by 2022.  I want to share a life with someone.  There is no rush but I for one don’t want to be past 35, still can’t be in a relationship.

Parts of me is sad though too.  Because we would look at million dollar homes and in my head, I knew how simple it would to get it.  But like spiritual z said, you can’t protect her anymore and I have to move on and get out of this cycle.  But I do want to settle down by 2022.  I want to get this townhouse or condo and then a Tesla.  And then whomever is interested can have the choice as we get serious to move in with me or we get a place together.  All about communication and commitment and I am ready for that.  But also, I have to close this chapter.  Which means after telling my story to the blogs, the groups etc. and I am fully healed, I know the universe will be ready to send me someone by the end of the year.  I am honestly excited, because I am definitely going to take my future bae on a vacation by the 5th date.  I am not playing this time.  I have the means to do it, so why not.  I saved up enough for anything I desire at this point.  Plus thank you MTV and VH1.  Thank you for all the bookings honestly.  

To end this blog, I will post the responses I received after the domestic violence occurred.  I posted this anonymously to avoid being flooded in my inbox.  But it made me feel better about the situation, especially when you are torn. 

Until next time...

[curiousconch]

Gravity

Chapter 5 of Ricochet (An Open Heart AU) 

Catch up here: Series Masterlist

Chapter Synopsis: As Heather struggles to decide how to move forward, she and Bryce gets embroiled in a night full of revelations.  

Pairing: Rafael Aveiro x MC (Dr. Heather Song) | Bryce Lahela x MC (Dr. Heather Song) 

Words: 2.7k+ | Genre: Crime, Mystery, Thriller, Romance

Rating/Warnings: Mature (16+) / language and a bucket heap of angst (maybe more)

Author’s Notes: I will expect some hate towards all the drama, but a love triangle is always a complex subject to deal with. In reality, navigating through it does not spare any of the hearts being broken at some point or another, because of the level of humanity that gets exposed when love isn’t returned. I know that firsthand.So this chapter is somewhat taken from that very real experience. But I promise, there’s purpose at the end 🌈🙂

This was inspired by IMHO, one of the angstyiest songs ever produced in the face of the earth - Gravity by Sara Bareilles. Also, disclaimer: majority of the characters are owned by Pixelberry, except the main character Heather Song and an OC villain Jordan Anderson.

Thanks for taking the time to share and read this ❤ BTW, are you Team Bryce or Team Rafael? Let me know in your reblogs!

Rafael tucked his cold hands inside the pockets of his jacket as he kicked a random rock from the sidewalk. He badly wanted to sleep, but he can't. He can't stop thinking about what he's done to Heather, and about how he much he hurt her. 

He can't stand staying in his apartment due to the memories that flooded each corner, couldn't even bear to clean up the pieces of shattered glass from that night. So that cold night, he decided to sulk in the middle of the crowd. At least, he wouldn't be alone. 

He arrived at Donahues, and nodded to a few regular patrons as he approached the bar. He asked Reggie for a bottle of beer, and settled himself on one of the stools. 

As he was about to take a sip, he heard a voice nearby. He could single out that voice anywhere, so his eyes immediately darted towards the direction of a nearby booth. Once he found who he was looking for his gut twisted in knots. He knew that silhouette like the back of his hand.

There she was, leaning on an old jukebox, a glass of cocktail in hand. His heart jumped inside his rib cage, excitement at the sight of her flooding in. He twisted himself to stand, but abruptly stopped as he saw a tall figure approach her. 

Even in the dim light, she saw her brilliant smile as she looked up at the guy. He instantly felt like an idiot all over again.

A fast-paced song flooded through the speakers. He saw Bryce offer a hand to her, which she happily took. Rafael saw them dance to the beat, laughter filling the gaps in between. He noticed a new spring in Heather's step, taking him back to the first time he brought her home to his grandmother. It was the same night when he taught her how to dance samba, with only the moon and the dim street lights illuminating their movements. The very night he decided to pursue Heather - the only woman who embraced him at the time when all he could offer was himself, a woman whom at first he thought as entirely out of his league.

All of those fading memories suddenly returned in full color, now when that same woman is dancing with anyone but him. Now it wasn't his hands holding her, it wasn't him who's making her laugh, it was no longer him who made her smile. Instead, he became the cause of her pain. 

He looked away, the idea of Heather being with someone else becoming more unbearable by the second. He leaned heavily on the bar and chugged the rest of his beer, before asking for another bottle. He covered his face with the palms of his hands, as the pain of his guilt pricked him inside like a fresh wound. 

When the tune ended, he looked back at Heather and didn't immediately find her. 

"Rafael?" he stopped as he recognized who just said his name. He wanted to ignore her. But deep down all he wanted was to make amends and be hers again. So despite his shame, he turned to face the music. 

"Heather," he straightened himself up, sobering when he saw the shine in her eyes. "How are you?" 

"I'm doing fine," her icy tone was like salt to his open scar. 

 "Can we talk?" 

"Why, so you could come up with another of your lame excuses?" she leaned away from him as she ordered a round of shots. 

"I deserved that," Rafael rubbed the back of his neck. He stepped closer, fixated in trying not to touch her. "Heather, please, just this once."

"Okay," Heather said before she even had the time to think. She couldn’t help herself, she was still drawn to him, and she cursed herself for it. One moment with him seemed to decimate all of her fragile strength. "Let me just bring this over to the guys and then I'll meet you outside," she turned before walking away, "but you get only 10 minutes, then we're done." 

“That’s more than enough for me,” he nodded. He trailed her with his eyes before he went outside, finding an empty table in the back garden. 

Heather handed out the shots among Jackie, Aurora, Sienna, Elijah and Bryce while she explained the situation. Bryce almost choked halfway through his tequila when she mentioned Rafael. It was as if a bucket of cold water just washed over him. He made an effort to keep his cool, while he internally battled with his desire to stop her from going back to him.

Heather was able to make a read on Bryce’s sudden silence though. He was full of life just a few minutes ago, when he twirled her around as they danced together. She was almost certain that he wanted to interject, but chose not to interfere. 

“You really wanna do this?” Aurora broke the quiet that fell upon their booth.

”I don’t know if it’s the best thing for me,” Heather replied, ruffling her bangs. “Maybe? I think I just owe it to myself to hear him out.”

“Well if it helps you both in the long run, I say you should go,” Sienna said as she offered a comforting squeeze on Heather’s arm.

Her best friend as usual, was right. She needed to hear what Raf had to say, regardless of how they both move forward. That was all the encouragement Heather needed. She then tipped off one shot - slightly relying on the liquid courage to help her get this over with.  Although there was something that seemed to anchor her on the ground, she went to find Rafael anyway. 

Bryce followed her with his eyes, hoping against hope that by the end of the night he wouldn’t have to let her go again.

”Hey,” Heather sat down opposite Rafael in a corner table.

He watched her without speaking, unable to find his voice for a few moments. His chest felt heavy, conscious of the fact that the odds were stacked against him. Yet, he held onto hope, not wanting to give up so easily.

“You wanted to talk, so, talk,” she crossed her arms, and tried to put up a brave front. 

He cleared his throat, delaying his response as he tried to compose a coherent offer to convince her take him back. When he found the right words in his mind, he began to speak. 

"I'm not going to justify what I did, Heather. It was incredibly wrong of me to betray you and to have caused your hurt," he shifted a little, leaning closer to her, and tried reaching out for her hand. Seeing that she did not flinch, he continued.

"I can never take back what I did, and the damage I've done. But if I have to spend the rest of my life asking for your forgiveness and trying to make this work between us, I will do everything in my power to do that, meu amor," he reached out and took her hand in his. "I simply can't stand to not be with you, I love you so, so much. I still do. So if you still want this, if you still want us, I'm asking you to take me back."

Heather felt her bravado begin to dissolve with his touch. Oh how she missed the calloused hands with which he caressed her, every cell in her body seemed to betray her. She sighed deeply, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall. In her heart, she wanted nothing else but to forget everything and move on. But at this point, she wasn't sure if she wanted to do that with him. 

"I-I don't know, Raf," she stuttered, her eyes beginning to shimmer. It hurt that she couldn't just say yes to him again. "I know I'll be able to forgive you someday, Raf. But I'm not sure if I can choose to stay with you, for what you've done..." she concluded. 

She didn't know. At least not now. That's what he heard her say. Even if there's a slight chance of her being able to forgive him, and to take him back, he'd gladly accept it. 

"You don't have to answer now," he said. "Take all the time you need to think about it. I promise I won't bother you until you're already decided," he spoke gently. 

"Thanks, Raf. I'll think about it." And with that, she excused herself and went back inside. She went directly to the restrooms, her head spinning. She slumped herself on a nearby wall, inhaling air deeply as if she was drowning. She felt her chest thump with her rapidly beating heart, exhausted with the encounter. 

After several minutes, she composed herself and went back out, moving towards the direction of their booth. Her friends asked how it went, so she shared the general gist of it. They all agreed that it made sense, pitching in each of their own thoughts. Heather tried to listen to them, but she was distracted. 

Bryce's disposition faltered a little. She noticed that something changed, leaving her bothered. She knew that there’s a reason behind the diminished sarcasm in his voice, as well as in his almost-muted cockiness. She tried to justify to herself that he probably had something to deal with at work, but couldn't completely convince herself. She didn't want to let herself swim in her own assumptions, unless until everything with Raf was settled. So she chose not to prod. 

It wasn't long that they all decided to call it a night. They both walked towards his car and got in without a word to each other. She noticed that he barely even looked at her. The rest of the ride back to the condo was spent with her fidgeting with her phone, the awkward quiet gradually swallowing her whole. 

When they entered the hallway, Heather couldn't hold it in anymore. She wanted answers. 

"Hey Lahela, what happened there?" she asked. 

With his back facing her, she couldn't see his reaction. 

Bryce was stumped in place, unable to take another step forward. Damn it, reading me like an open book as always. The swirling emotions in his chest threatened to loose control. He shut his eyes closed for a few seconds, willing them away to no avail. So with clenched fists, he turned around and stared at the woman who captured his heart and threatened to unknowingly rip it apart. 

"You're a smart ass woman, Heath, try to figure it out."

Heather's mouth went ajar, unsure how to process his response. "I don't know if I should take that as a compliment or as an insult, Lahela." 

Bryce forced himself to walk forward, leading his steps to the liquor cabinet in the kitchen. He poured himself a glass of Jack Daniels, downing it all in one gulp. 

"What's gotten into you now? Just this afternoon you gave a freaking speech about bouncing back and yada yada yada, now you're insulting me?" Heather was flustered and beyond infuriated as she followed him to the kitchen.

"I don't have to explain anything to you, not now, Heath." He poured another helping of the strong liquid, hoping it was enough to push down the rising anger within him. 

Heather was hell bent in getting to the bottom of it tonight. If there was anything she valued in her life, it was honesty. And when she wants it from anyone, she won't back down. 

"Yes, you do. You know fucking well that you need some explaining to do. I'm done beating around the bush with you, I'm done being in the receiving end of veiled threats, betrayals, or hidden truths. I'm not taking that crap from the one person whom I can rely on to not screw me around with lies," she pounded her fist on the wooden surface of the table separating them. "So for the last goddamn time, I'm going to ask, what the hell happened with you tonight?"

He replied by setting down his glass, the force with which he set it down cracking its bottom. All the pent up frustration within him was now manifesting unrestrained. 

"Fine, you want to know what's the deal with me? You. It's you, dammit," he finally said without shame, like a contrite man in confession, his hands waving in the air.

Fuck it, I'm doing this. Friendships be damned.

"I never liked commitments in relationships because, I wanted to stay suspended in midair, always on a high," he paused, sucking in a deep breath. "For me, all that romantic crap only meant being pulled back by gravity, it's all just a whole gigantic crash and burn. Ever heard of my mother?" The mention of his own mother's selfish act still stung him to the core. "But every single time I see you, I'm more than willing to crash down to the ground for you. It's because I want you, you idiot. I wanted you ever since I met you. I wanted you so fucking much that I hid it because I wanted to stay in your life, even as only a friend."

There I said it. Bryce no longer felt suffocated, lighter, like a heavy boulder was lifted from his chest. 

He watched Heather who was stunned into silence, as he tried to catch his breath. He attempted to translate the expression that suddenly filled her hazel eyes. He sighed in relief when he noticed it soften, as she began to speak. 

"A little too late, Lahela," her voice was small, and her smile seem to be filled with sadness. 

Bryce's eyes widened in shock, as the meaning of those five words dawned on him.

"You didn't just assume that I opened up to every man that showed interest, didn't you?" she laughed bitterly, sitting down while her knees buckled with regret. "I waited for you to make a move, Bryce. But you never did. So I thought you weren't interested. Then Raf happened." 

He couldn't find his voice, confounded with what Heather was trying to tell him.

"When Rafael and I first met, I thought of his as a close friend. It wasn't love at first sight, it was a more of a slow burn. A gentle, uncomplicated but stable romance," she paused, raising her head to look him in the eyes. "But he was man enough to own up to his feelings, Bryce. He was man enough not to hold back," he watched as she bit her lip, struggling not to shiver himself. "But most of all, he didn't quit. Not like you who bailed himself out too early, too afraid to get hurt."

He took a step forward, wanting nothing but to hold her and kiss her. His confused emotions held him hostage to the spot where he was standing.

"I'm not some clueless bitch you think I am. I had an idea, but you were too busy hitting on every woman in front of me that I never thought you'd get serious with someone," she paused, her voice filled with rue and remorse. "For the so-called golden boy of Boston's DA office, you're one hell of a wimp," she rose from the table and walked away, leaving Bryce alone and regretful more than ever.

***

Bryce spent the next morning in an empty apartment. He heard Heather move around and leave at dawn to catch her early morning flight to Baltimore. But he didn't have it in him to face her. At least not yet.

Gathering the will to pull himself up from his bed, he prepared for another day at work. He mindlessly went through his routine as he processed the events of last night. He finally admitted his feelings to her, but she trampled with it with her own revelation.

Her words echoed repeatedly in his head, and he sunk within himself a little more. I waited for you to make a move, but you never did. He hated that she was right, that he was just some egotistic, self-absorbed coward who missed a hell of a shot with her. He also hated being helplessly powerless to do anything about it, her being more than 400 miles away from him.  

So he instead made himself busy - preparing drafts and evidence for the various cases that was about to go to court soon.  

The day was almost done when his phone began to ring incessantly. He ignored it at first, but it rang and rang until there was no the point to refuse to answer it. Sienna's name popped up on the caller ID. He sensed that something was wrong.

"Sienna?"

On the line, Bryce could hear the rising panic in her voice. 

"Johns Hopkins just called Dr. Ramsey. Heather didn't show up in the research facility today. Did she chose to stay back at your place? Bryce, please tell me you know where she is?"

Tag list - @choicesficwriterscreations for Fics of the Week

Ricochet AU tags - @eleanorbloom @ramsey-lahela​

[theycallmebeccawrites]

Chris & Ellie Series: Episode 20

Hey lovelies! No, you aren’t imagining things... I really am updating this series. C&E have been on my mind a lot lately and I’m working hard to get this stuff out to you guys.. but bear with me. This story is only about half way finished...

Stay safe ♥ Becca

Shout out to my kick ass friends who helped me out with this one @nomadicpixel​ @heather-lynn​ @alievans007​ @mrs-captain-evans​

Pairing: Chris Evans x Ellie Spencer (OFC)

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Relationship drama

Episode Summary: This episode takes place in May 2014 as Ellie finally opens up to someone about what happened between her and Chris.

Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not to be reposted, used or translated without my permission.

This episode can also be read on AO3.

The Chris & Ellie Series Masterlist | Chris & Ellie Masterlist

Episode 19.5

Episode 20: Mending Fences

Mid May 2014

Scott frowned as he watched Ellie walk out the backdoor with Daisy shuffling behind her. It had been a month since the disastrous fallout and his friend was a ghost of her former self.

"You're worried about her," his friend Pierre's voice said from behind him.

Scott nodded his head as he turned around. He didn't necessarily feel right about talking about Ellie and Chris's breakup, but at the same time, Pierre was a psychologist and he'd helped Scott through things before.

Maybe the fact that Pierre had needed a place to stay while his condo's kitchen was being redone was a sign. Pierre had been with them for a few days now and he and Ellie had hit it off really well. Especially since Pierre loved to cook and had been taking on that chore while he was there so Ellie wouldn't have to.

"She went through a breakup recently," Scott explained, watching his words carefully. "It was a mutual friend and she doesn't want me to be caught in the middle any more than I already am."

Pierre raised a well-manicured eyebrow and asked, "More than you already are?"

"I was inadvertently the one who told her it was over between them, at least in her eyes," Scott confessed.

Pierre made an 'oh' face and went back to loading the dishwasher. In the few days he'd known Ellie, he'd noticed how quiet she was. There had been brief glimpses of a happier, more vivacious personality, but she'd mostly seemed withdrawn.

"Do you know if she has talked to anyone about what happened?" Pierre asked Scott. "A friend or a professional?"

"I don't know for sure, but I don't think so," Scott replied. "I'm good friends with one of her sisters, too, and I haven't heard from her about the breakup and I'm certain I would if she knew."

"And she won't talk to you at all about it?" Pierre asked and Scott nodded. "Do you think she'd talk to me? Not in a professional capacity, just here in the house."

"She knows you're a psychologist," Scott stated. "I know she won't seek you out and ask to talk. But maybe, if you went to her and started the conversation?"

"I'll try," Pierre promised Scott. "If she won't talk to me, maybe I can at least encourage her to talk to someone she trusts."

Two nights later, the opportunity for Pierre to speak privately with Ellie presented itself when they were cooking dinner together. He'd gotten more glimpses of the woman behind the sadness as they'd collaborated and now the main course was in the oven. 

As he opened his mouth to broach the subject, Ellie's phone rang and he listened to her side of the conversation with Scott.

"He's going to be late," she relayed the message after hanging up. "There's an accident and he's stuck smack dab in the middle of it."

Seeing his opening, Pierre took it. "He's worried about you, you know," he stated.

He expected Ellie to play coy, but she nodded solemnly and said, "I know."

"He wants to help."

Ellie frowned to herself as she opened the fridge, stalling for time as she tried to decide how to respond to Pierre. She’d had an inkling that he was going to seek her out from the moment Scott had asked if it was ok for his friend, a shrink, to crash with them for a couple weeks. It all seemed too coincidental.

Turning around, she looked at Pierre and asked, “Is your kitchen really being remodeled? Or is this all something that Scott cooked up to get me to talk to someone?”

Pierre chuckled and answered, “it’s really being remodeled. Or rather, it had to be gutted completely after the kitchen in the condo above me flooded and ruined my place.” Ellie’s response was a shocked ���oh’ face. “I will admit that Scott did ask me to talk to you, but only the other night when I saw how worried he was about you.” He also appreciated the fact that she seemed like a straight forward, what you see is what you get, type of person. It was a refreshing break from the normal, wannabe famous, LA crowd.

Taking that into account, Ellie nodded her head and asked one more question. “You won’t tell him what I say, right? It'll stay between us?”

“Of course,” Pierre assured her. “I know you want to protect the relationship between Scott and his friend. Nothing you tell me will be repeated, unless you tell me otherwise.”

Ellie nodded again and pulled out a bottle of wine. “I think I’m going to need this,” she said and then, as if worried about what he might think, added, “I don’t drink a lot. There’s just a lot to unravel…”

“I understand,” Pierre assured her with a smile. “Why don’t you sit down and talk while I put together the salad.”

Resisting the urge to nod her head again for fear of being mistaken as a bobble head, Ellie grabbed a wine glass from the cupboard and then sat down at the breakfast bar.

After pouring herself a glass of wine, she leaned back in her seat and wondered where to even begin. She wasn’t sure how much Scott had told Pierre and she wasn’t sure how much she wanted him to know. He might be a professional in helping people with their problems, but that wouldn’t make her feel any less heartbroken or foolish.

Foolish.

That was the key source of her pain, she knew. She’d had her heart broken before, though never as badly as Chris had left it. But it was the shame of feeling foolish that had kept her from speaking about what had happened between her and Chris. At least it had been after Chris’s text to Scott.

Before that, she had just been confused and hurt, but hopeful at the same time. She’d naively thought he’d contact her in some way, that they’d get through this rough patch and be better for it.

But Chris had messaged Scott and then she’d had to accept that whatever had been between them was over and done with.

Around that same time, Phoenix had told her that she was pregnant with her second baby, Izzy had gotten her first big case and Riley had accepted an internship that kept her busy. Knowing that they were all busy with good things in their lives, Ellie hadn’t wanted to bring them down or have them feel sorry for her.

And then there was Sydney. Ellie hadn’t spoken to her older sister since the night of their argument in the restaurant. At first because she was just mad at Sydney and then because she hadn’t wanted to hear I told you so.

“And now?” Pierre asked. “How do you feel about your sister now?”

Ellie stared down into her empty wine glass as she realized her train of thought had become a verbal word vomit without her realizing it. Instead of feeling embarrassed, she felt a surprising amount of relief from getting everything that had been circling her mind out in the open.

“Now? I miss her,” she admitted, looking up. “Do you have siblings?”

“Two older brothers,” Pierre replied.

“So you know how much older siblings can be a pain in the ass then,” Ellie said with a small smile and Pierre nodded. “Sydney is almost three years older than me. We were close when we were little and then she became a know-it-all for like ten years. Then she became normal again, for the most part, but she has her moments.

“We’ve gotten along really well during the last ten years, to the point that I’d count all three of my sisters as my best friends. But then a couple months ago, she met Chris and I thought she liked him. But then she took on her holier than thou persona about my situation, specifically that I was living with him, and it just pissed me off.

“Turns out she knew better than I did,” Ellie sighed as she poured herself another glass of wine. “She was right. About the entire situation.”

“Is that why you feel foolish?” He prompted.

“That and the fact that I let myself get so caught up with how I was feeling that I just trusted everything Chris told me and now look at me,” she replied with a bitter laugh. “I’m single and living in my ex’s house with no place to go. And I work for him, too. So not only is my housing attached to him, but my livelihood, too.” She took in a shaky breath. “Just like my sister predicted.”

Trying to get her emotions in control, Ellie paused and reached out to pick at the label on the wine bottle.

Sensing she needed a moment, Pierre stayed quiet as he waited for her to continue.

“The real kicker of it all?” She said, looking up at Pierre. “Is that the one person I want to talk to the most about this whole fucking mess is the one person I can’t talk to, my big sister.”

“Why can’t you talk to her?” Pierre asked. “Did she change her number? Write you off?”

Ellie shook her head and said, “I was worse than mean to her the last time we spoke. I was awful to her and -”

“She was awful to you, too,” Pierre interrupted. “And if you’re as close as you say, it’s likely she is tearing herself up about this situation, too. You won’t know unless you reach out to her.”

Silence fell between them. Eventually, Ellie admitted, “I’m scared. I know once I tell them what’s going, it'll be really over between me and Chris...”

“Breakups are never easy,” Pierre said, compassionately. “But that’s when you need to surround yourself with the people who love you the most. The people that have your back regardless of whether you think you deserve it or not.”

By the time he finished talking, Ellie had tears rolling down her cheeks. “You must be good at your job,” she said in a weak attempt at lightening the mood.

“I’ve always loved helping people,” he replied with a smile as they heard the rumbling of the garage door, announcing Scott’s arrival.

Ellie excused herself to the bathroom and was still gone when Scott came into the house. He met Pierre’s eyes and the latter nodded his head as the oven timer buzzed.

When Ellie came back into the kitchen, Scott was pouring wine into glasses for all three of them. Crossing the room, she wrapped her friend in a hug from behind and whispered, “I’ll be ok, I promise.”

-----

It took Ellie a couple days to work up the courage to text Sydney, but she finally did it on Friday morning. She went back and forth on what to say, but ultimately decided not to beat around the bush.

Turns out you were right all along.

Chris and I broke up.

She hit send and stared at the phone for a minute before she tossed it down on the bed and went into the bathroom to take a shower. She was still in the process of getting ready to get into the shower when her phone rang.

Her stomach flipped when she saw Sydney's name on the screen and she had to fight back her nerves as she answered it, "Hello?"

"Oh, Ellie!" her sister's voice, thick with emotion, echoed through the phone.

Ellie felt tears in her eyes as her sister talked, expressing her sorrow and being the compassionate older sister that she knew and loved.

"I didn't want to be right, you know?" Sydney said, softly. "I didn't want you to get hurt."

"I know," Ellie assured her as she sat down on her bed. "But it happened and there isn't anything we can do about that now."

"Maybe not, but maybe I can help in a different way," Sydney told her. "I'm here, in LA for a conference. I have to present some stuff tomorrow afternoon, but I have a hotel room and I don't leave here until Monday."

"You're in LA, right now?" Ellie repeated in disbelief.

"I am," Sydney confirmed. "And I'm about twenty minutes or so from your house. I was going to try and surprise you. I wasn't sure you'd answer your phone if I called."

"Of course I would have answered," Ellie said, softly. "You might annoy me sometimes, but you're my big sister and I love you."

"I love you, too," Sydney replied. "But I know we have a lot to talk about and a lot of stuff to work out between us. I was hoping we could spend the weekend together. Unless you have to work?"

"I have the weekend off," Ellie told her. "I'll be ready when you get here." Then she remembered she needed to take a shower. "Or almost ready. I'll call Scott and let him know that you're on your way and to let you in."

The two said goodbye and then Ellie called Scott, letting him know that Sydney was on her way and asking if he'd let her in. He agreed and offered to take care of Daisy for the weekend as well.

After taking as quick a shower as possible, Ellie threw some clothes into a small suitcase and gathered Daisy's stuff before leading her dog out of the guesthouse. After a potty stop for Daisy, they made their way up the stairs to the kitchen entrance and where Ellie left the dog's toys and bed.

Hearing voices in the living room, Ellie made her way there and paused in the doorway when she saw her sister and Scott sitting in there waiting for her. Letting go of her suitcase, Ellie made her way to her sister, tears rapidly filling her eyes, and met her sister halfway. For the first time since Chris had walked out of her life, Ellie let herself weep as her sister held on to her.

Scott felt himself tearing up as he watched the two sisters embrace, Ellie crying and Sydney soothing her the best she could. He'd filled Sydney in on what he could while they'd been waiting for Ellie to appear and she had appeared both broken-hearted for her sister but also abashed for what she had put her sister through. Then Ellie had come in and he'd seen in Sydney what he knew his older sister did when situations called for it, she became the heroic big sister that was needed.

He hadn't believed Ellie completely the other day when she'd told him that she'd be alright, but now, seeing her with her sister, he knew she would be. It wouldn't be overnight by any means, but her sisters would make sure she recovered from her broken heart.

Excusing himself from the room, he headed upstairs. Now that Ellie was talking and on her way to recovering from everything, he needed to try and focus on helping his brother. He would still be there for Ellie, of course, she was one of his best friends in the entire world. But so was his brother and he wouldn't give up on him ever. No matter how stupid Chris was acting.

Episode 20.5

Want to find me off tumblr? I'm @beccatheycallme on twitter. I also post my stories on AO3.

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[fallinallincurls]

I Can’t Lose You

some slight angst but mostly fluff (like usual lol)

word count: 2.3k+

~~~~~

Shawn's POV

The haunting silence filled every nook and cranny of the condo, the heavy rain outside the only audible noise seeping through the walls. An empty mug sat on the coffee table next to a picture from our vacation in Mexico, a bleak reminder of happiness. 

The memory of what had happened moments ago, replayed through my mind nonstop. The rattling noise of the front door as Y/N slammed it behind her, leaving me with one last glance of her back. My words. The stupid, hurtful words I said not meaning any of it, but my emotions got the better of me. Tears rolling down her cheeks as her eyes pleaded for all of this stop causing tears to prick at the corners of my eyes. I hated seeing her hurt and here I was, responsible for her pain.

Every single moment of the last four years played in my mind. A small, sad smile played at my lips when I thought about certain memories with Y/N. These last four years have been the best time of my life and it was all because of her. Somehow, I got lucky enough to love her everyday and I managed to screw up everything. Dropping my head into my hands, a fresh wave of sadness washed over my body as all the words from the fight flooded my mind. Tears stung my eyes as they slowly fell down my cheeks. I can't believe I did this.

Suddenly, the piercing noise of the familiar ringtone of a phone call split the silence in half. Frustratingly, I ran my hands through my messy curls before reaching over for my phone to see who was calling. As soon as I read the caller ID, my heart dropped. It was Teddy which meant only one thing, Y/N was with her. A heavy sigh escaped my lips as I accepted the call, placing the phone by my ear. "Hey Teddy,"

"Shawn!" Teddy whispered harshly. "I'm not even supposed to be calling you because I'm a good friend, but I don't know what to do. She's never been so upset. She just showed up at my doorstep like half an hour ago, her eyes already puffy from crying so much and just collapsed into my arms exhausted." She hurriedly explained, her voice low but angry. My vision clouded over with new tears as I processed Teddy's words. Sniffling a little before I answered, I tried pulling myself together before speaking again.

"I'm so stupid, T. Everything I said wasn't even true and as soon as the words left my mouth, I immediately regretted it. My emotions got the best of me and I wasn't thinking straight. I love her so damn much it's unbelievable and-" a sob stifled my words for a moment at the thought that just crossed my mind. 

"I can't lose her. I'd be a complete mess without her in my life. I mean look at me now. She makes my heart swell with happiness and every moment I've spent with her has been the best time of my life. There's nothing in this entire world that can make me feel how Y/N makes me feel. She's the love of my life. I just- I wished this whole night didn't happen. I screwed up really bad and I regret everything I did. I love her beyond words." My sobs raked through my body at full strength now, hot tears escaping my eyes as I spoke to Teddy through the phone.

"Shawn, you have to tell her all of this. I can drive her home. We'll be there in about forty minutes, okay?" Teddy said quietly, her voice immediately softening after hearing everything I admitted. I nodded quickly before realizing she couldn't see me.

"Okay. Thank you," I hiccuped through my cries as Teddy said goodbye before hanging up, the empty silence filling the condo again. Wiping the tears that stained my cheek away, I rose from the couch and headed into the kitchen, a trail of sniffles following me. 

Placing the kettle on the stove, I waited patiently for the water to boil, trying to distract myself from how slow time was passing and the aching pain in my heart. Leaning against the counter, I took a deep breath hoping to stop the tears just as the kettle whistled, signaling the water was ready. Carefully pouring the steaming hot water into my favorite mug, one Y/N had gotten me last year, I dropped a tea bag in and checked my phone. Expecting an empty screen, a strike of shock washed over my face for a moment when I saw Aaliyah’s name.

iMessage from Aaliyah: hey bud. just checking in, I was texting Y/N earlier but she's kinda disappeared for a few hours? hope everything is okay love you x

iMessage to Aaliyah: thanks chica, everything isn't okay right now but it will be soon. love you x

I ran my fingers through my curls again before I locked my phone, slipping it into my pocket and turning back to the mug of hot tea. Tossing the tea bag in the garbage, I carefully held the mug in my hands and pushed open the glass door that led to the outdoor sitting area. 

It was Y/N's idea to furnish a little part of the yard and add on a wooden roof extension so we could sit outside and watch thunderstorms together. When it was finished, it looked gorgeous. Large, bright lights outline the roof, illuminating the space beautifully. A dining set was in one corner and a collection of comfy chairs sat opposite it. A long, wicker bench Y/N had insisted on getting for me so I would be able to play guitar out here, sat directly across from the door. Choosing that as my spot while I waited for Y/N to come home, I sat down and listened to the soothing music of the steady rain, snuggling into my hoodie.

Resting my elbows on my knees, I stared into the mug of hot tea as my mind raced. Would Y/N even forgive me? What do I say? How do I explain to her that everything I said was a mistake, that I never meant to hurt her and I immediately regretted every word that left my mouth. 

A fresh wave of tears filled my eyes as I focused on both of my hands wrapped around the mug. Just as my tears started slipping down my cheeks again, two beams of bright light washed over the outside sitting area. Looking up while wiping my tears, I saw Teddy's car on the pavement with Y/N sitting in the passenger seat. I hastily placed my mug on the table before standing up and taking a few steps to the edge of the seating area.

Y/N stepped out of the car after hugging Teddy tightly, pulling the hood of my sweatshirt over her head to block the rain from her face. I glanced at Teddy quickly, catching her stern nod but paired it with a light wave. Under the protection of the wooden roof and standing right in front of me, Y/N pulled the hood down, revealing her captivating but now extremely puffy eyes from crying. There was no evidence of a smile on her lips, just sadness in every one of her features. Her cheeks were rosy like always and the look in her eyes was full of exhaustion, but a glint of love sparkled under the soft light. 

Without thinking, I scooped her up in my arms, holding her as close as possible to my body, nuzzling my head in the crook of her neck. With no hesitation, Y/N wrapped her arms around me, resting her head on my chest while she sniffled quietly. When we finally parted after what felt like only seconds, Y/N turned briefly to wave to Teddy as I did the same before we sat down on the bench.

"I'm so incredibly sorry, baby. There's so much I have to say to you but I want you to know how sorry I am." My voice was practically a whisper as I spoke, my gaze never leaving hers. Y/N simply nodded, her eyes softening while she fumbled with her fingers in her lap.

"Have you been crying?" She asked suddenly, her voice low as she gently caressed my cheek. I nodded against her palm and a small frown appeared on her lips at the information I told her.

"I didn't mean anything I said. I let my emotions get the best of me which I shouldn't have and because of that I screwed everything up. It was stupid fight that we could've worked through like usual but- but seeing you leave and knowing I hurt you that much broke my heart Y/N. You slammed the door and everything just stopped. I never want to be the reason you're upset, but tonight I was and I'm so sorry. I- I thought I'd lost you and the thought of that ruined me. I can't lose you, ever." My voice was thick as new tears pooled in the corners of my eyes, threatening to fall. 

"You're the light and love of my life Y/N. There's no one else in this world like you and somehow I'm lucky enough to love you everyday which is a blessing. There aren't enough words to tell you how in love with you I am. You're my world and the thought of having you out of my life hurts so much. I'd be a mess," I chuckled lightly gesturing to myself as my tears fell before placing my hand on top of hers which was resting on my thigh.

"Shawn, you'll never lose me. Not in a million years, I promise. But it's okay because I messed up tonight too. The whole fight was my fault. After all these years, I thought I would've gotten used to big tours, publicity stunts and being apart from each other for so long but the fact is, I'm not. Even though I'm your biggest supporter and I'll always be so proud of you for everything you accomplish, my heart always hurts so much when I find out you're leaving. It's selfish but it's- it's so hard to be okay when you're not here. It's like a part of me is missing and it is because you're my other half. So I'm also incredibly sorry because I overreacted and got mad over nothing." Y/N admitted and apologized, her voice soft but filled with sadness as her tear filled eyes met mine again.

"I don't want to go, you know." I mumbled, my voice almost getting lost under the loud thumping of the heavy rain. A look of confusion washed over Y/N's face as she processed my words.

"What?" She asked simply, her brows furrowing together trying to understand.

"I don't want to go. Going on tour is amazing, don't get me wrong, but being away from you for so long is heartbreaking. The moment I leave your side at the airport, I'm already missing you and every single time I just want to turn back and go home. Which is why everything I said earlier wasn't true. It seemed like I was angry that you didn't want me to go, but in truth I was really angry because you were right. I don't want to go. I want to be here with you, all the time." I explained, my tears slowing down as a very small smile played at Y/N's lips at the thought of us being together without an interruptions.

"Shawn, this is your decision. Either way, I'll support you. But don't stop living your dreams because of me." Y/N spoke calmly, sniffling between words while she held both my hands, intertwining our fingers.

"Sweetheart, you are the dream." My voice was hushed beneath the rain but Y/N heard the words and instantly closed the space between us with a kiss. It was urgent but sweet like we were making up for lost time. 

My heart swelled happily while butterflies exploded in my stomach. Kissing her never got old. Holding her in my arms gently, I felt at home again. She was home. When we pulled away, smiles sat on both of our lips. "I've waited my whole life for a girl like you and now I have you. You're everything I've ever wanted." I mumbled against her lips before kissing her gently again.

"I'm sorry this whole night happened. It was stupid and I'm so sorry about everything. Are we okay?" Y/N said worriedly, her hands running through my curls causing my eyes to close at her touch.

"I'm so sorry about everything. We're okay. I'm so glad you're back home." I whispered, relief evident in my voice as my heart soared. I leaned my forehead against hers for a moment while we held each other peacefully, the rain creating its own melody around us. Y/N squeezed me slightly and when I met her eyes, a wide smile was growing on her lips.

"I love you." She stated simply, nothing but love in her voice as she snuggled in closer to me, the cold sleeping through my hoodie she was wearing.

"I love you too, babygirl. More than anything." I pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head and saw her smile grow, replacing the look of sadness that had been etched onto her face for hours. "Come on love, let's go inside." I pulled away, intertwining our fingers again as we headed back into the house. Settling in the living room under a warm blanket with Y/N cuddling up next to me, I smiled widely. "Thank you for loving me. What would I do without you?" The question fell off my lips while Y/N was carefully tracing the swallow tattoo on my right hand.

"Loving you is the best part of my life so I should be thanking you, babe. I don't know what I do without you either." Y/N answered, her voice low with sleep as her head rested on my chest. And despite all odds, everything was okay.

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