#after 8 months i lawyered up and he finally got a new one that pays a hundred thousand dollars less

[hazstur]

so much of what my ex did and continues to do is just so psychologically fucked up it sounds fake

[pettyrevenge-base]

Refuse to pay for boiler repair during winter? Okay then…

This was about 10 years ago. Still makes me feel good whenever I think about it.  

I used to rent a house. The landlord lived abroad, so his Brother (nice guy) looked after maintenance and the landlord’s Lawyer (douchebag) looked after the contract/legal stuff. I had the Brother’s phone number as he was my point of contact if anything needed fixing.  

One winter, the boiler broke. This is in Northern Europe, so this is considered to be an emergency repair. I called the Brother multiple times, but it always went straight to voicemail. It didn’t even ring. I left a bunch of texts, and spent the first night shivering under all the bedding in the house as temperatures outside approached freezing.

The next morning, I left more voicemails and texts, but by the afternoon, still no response. By this point, the temperature inside the house was around 7 degrees Celsius. I decided to take matters into my own hands, and ring around for an engineer to fix it. They came that evening, diagnosed the problem (a worn out motor), removed the broken part, installed the new part, and billed me for parts and labour. I texted the Brother to let him know what I had done.  

A few days later, the Brother finally responded and apologised for being out of touch. He had been on holiday. I said no major harm done, but I need reimbursement for the repair. He told me to call the Lawyer and gave me his number.  

I called the Lawyer and explained everything. He was like a brick wall. Totally unreasonable, unsympathetic to the situation, and accusatory to me, saying that I had broken the terms of the tenancy agreement. I said that they had also violated the agreement by not responding to an emergency repair in a reasonable amount of time. Under the circumstances, I felt I had no choice, and hope we can come to some sort of arrangement. He said no. I asked whether we could split the bill - I pay for the labour, and they pay for the part, which will remain in the boiler in their property indefinitely. He said no, and at that point said I should “put this all down as a lesson learned and move on”, and hung up on me.  

I was not very happy, to say the least. The bill was pretty significant, and I had effectively repaired their boiler for them free of charge. Not to mention the inconvenience and discomfort of being without heating in winter.  

I was looking at the engineer’s bill wondering what I could do, then realised - the bill has my name, my phone number, my signature on it, and the part and its cost clearly listed.  

I waited 8 months until the tenancy agreement expired, then moved out (I was planning to anyway). I called the same engineer and asked him to remove the motor from the boiler. He questioned why, but I talked around it, paid him cash, and all was good. It obviously cost me more money, but ended up being totally worth it.  

When I moved out the next day, I made sure everything was spotless, and left the property like a perfect tenant. The Brother came to inspect the property. He had a cursory look around to check nothing was obviously damaged, then bid me goodbye, and I gave him the keys. Thankfully he didn’t check whether the boiler was working. Why would he? He knows I would have informed him immediately had it broken again. Either way, the security deposit landed back in my account a few days later.  

A couple of months went by, and then I got a text from the Brother asking if the boiler had been working okay when I left. I said yeah, why? No response.  

Next day I got a phonecall from the Lawyer. He was furious.  

Lawyer: Did you remove the motor from the boiler?!  

Me: Yes. Why?  

Lawyer: rants about damage to landlord’s property etc  

Me: Sorry, bit busy right now. Please put all of this in writing to my email hangs up  

Later that day I got a VERY long, ranty email threatening legal action. He obviously took some time to put it together, but honestly it reeked of intimidation tactics.  

I waited a day or so, just to be annoying, then replied:  

“Dear Lawyer,  

Thank you for your email.  

Please find attached a document that proves that the boiler motor in question is my own personal property.  

I recommend you put this all down as a lesson learned and move on.

Sincerely,  

OP”  

I attached the engineer’s original bill and clicked send.  

Never heard back.  

To this day, I’m not 100% sure I was legally in the clear, but it was definitely worth the risk, knowing that they had to pay for it in the end.  

TL:DR Landlord’s representative refuses to reimburse me for emergency boiler part replacement, so I take the part with me when I move out, rendering the boiler useless.

Source: reddit.com/r/pettyrevenge

[blueaizu]

Suspended Twitter

Today my Twitter page was permanently suspended, so this will affect a few things. Needless to say I am not happy. This is going to be a long post, so find out more after this jump if you want to know what's going on.

By the way: I'm not holding back. There will be swearing and unfiltered anger, so if you don't want to see it, don't hit the jump.

First some introductions, since this Tumblr page is still pretty new: my name is BlueAizu. I'm an anime artist who has been posting artwork on websites like Twitter for a long time (psst, check out #BlueAizu's Art if you want to see what I do). I'm also exploring game development and I have also done livestreams of myself drawing or making my game in the past. To this end, I am currently in the middle of rebranding myself so I can enter into the world of Vtubers. At this time I'm not quite ready to do a full reveal of my model, but if you've looked at my profile picture you already have an idea of what he will look like. I'm very pleased with the progress so far and I'm looking forward to finally sharing him when the time comes, but enough about that.

As you may know, Twitter was recently bought out by Elon Musk for an extremely large sum of money and he is, shall we say... not the greatest? He's always looking to try and make back his investment and changing the platform for the worse, saying it's for "free speech" and that he'll be "a savior of social media" like he's the second coming of Jesus Christ. One of the things he's done is allowing people to pay a subscription for verification, which used to be a symbol of authenticity for public figures to avoid impersonation. Not anymore!

On top of this he's started a separate subscription that's way higher than $8 USD per month for organizations and businesses, currently $1000 a month. The ultimate kicker is that it still costs $1000 just to apply and it's non-refundable if you're not accepted, which is scummy enough on its own but the page for signing up doesn't mention that anywhere, just in an easily overlooked "Terms of Service" page at the very bottom. A horrible, horrible practice all around.

So what does all of that have to do with me specifically? Well, I was replying to someone who ended up unwittingly paying the full sum of $1000 (they got the chargeback, thankfully, but not without involving lawyers). My response: "I hope Elon's personal Tesla self-drives off a cliff," which while disapproving of Elon, was meant to be tongue in cheek and I wouldn't want it to actually happen to someone. Apparently this single tweet was severe enough that it warranted an immediate and permanent suspension of my account. My Twitter account, which I've had for over 10 years, was in good standing for all of that time and I used mainly for retweeting art and geeking out about video games I liked, is suddenly unusable and I can no longer participate on Twitter at all. This is completely unreasonable because, while I'll accept responsibility that it wasn't the most tasteful thing to say, permanent suspension from the platform is completely disproportionate retribution. There are so many pages and people who post and continue to share far worse, more offensive content for the sole purpose of spreading unbridled, bigoted hatred and malice for eliciting reactions. The single tweet I made is apparently far worse than that.

Also in the same e-mail as an added bonus, it mentioned that Twitter Blue isn't automatically disabled for suspended accounts, just as one additional middle finger for anyone this situation happens to. Probably counting on people forgetting about it and still paying it anyway without realizing! I suspect that my tweet was used as a scapegoat to get me off the platform for being critical of the decisions Elon has been making for Twitter and generally just not liking him, at all.

So, I'm done with Twitter. I already sent an appeal and I'll be happy to delete the tweet in question if given the chance, but after this? After this complete shitshow? I have lost all of my respect for Twitter. I now realize that it is a shitty platform, with a biased owner that has a cold, self-centered, devil-may-care billionaire toddler's ego the size of fucking Jupiter that's as fragile as a single strand of uncooked spaghetti. He doesn't treat his employees well, he can't take criticism at all, and his actions paint him as being unfit for running one of the biggest social media platforms, which many people have relied on for years, in every way except being able to buy it out. I am very outraged this has happened, and I will not forget this.

And that's the end of my story of why I'm no longer on Twitter.

Good-bye, Twitter.

May you go up in flames, your employees freed from Elon's iron grip and then move on to more fulfilling careers elsewhere.

[jodilin65]

I am so pissed off right now and so damn exhausted that I can’t write about everything that’s going on in this entry. I’ll just copy what I wrote in the car and carry on with it some other time.

We’re going to be under new management at the park soon. I hope whoever the new person is isn’t anything like Joy or Stacey.

Yesterday was a shitty day. Had to play phone for hours with the ENT office, Aetna, and even Rhonda’s. The ENT’s staff are completely incompetent and the concierge is as contradicting as ever. All they did was give us conflicting info and jerk us around like a yo-yo. Finally, we called Rhonda’s office and they said they had a physical copy of my referral. We’re on the way right now to pick up that copy. Worst case scenario, we have to pay out of pocket just like we’ve had to with other things we weren’t supposed to pay for. I figured there had to be a catch when I learned how cheap this insurance plan was!

Either way, I’m not leaving that ENT’s office till it’s cleaned. It needs it. Also, I’ll schedule the next appointment 4 months out instead of 6. That way when the games start again and they cancel me again, I’ve got a two-month cushion to reschedule.

I almost regretted moving here yesterday as the healthcare is just so fucked up here! So are the roads as we encountered yet another accident. Most of them happen in the middle of the street. There are medians with cutouts that cars dart across and there are tons of accidents in these spots. The SUV was turned on its side.

Slept horribly with a 2-hour gap in my sleep after having the third nightmare in a row. How did I go from not remembering my dreams to having a nightmare every night? As comfortable as this bed is, I just couldn’t get comfortable and was tossing and turning like crazy till I finally drifted back off. Now I get how Aly once said she couldn’t get comfortable at times and I suggested a new mattress yet she said hers was fine. The only problem with mine is that we had to add more water to the tubes. We added 8 cups per tube but we may still have to add more. We checked and didn’t find any leaks, so we’re guessing the tubes just stretched a bit. The things are surprisingly short in height. I pictured dome-shaped tubes with a flat rigid bottom but they’re shallow oblong tubes.

Tom’s sleep was also split up by 4 hours only his brain could actually function and he did $16 worth of work. I did $31 yesterday. If we each made $20 a day 5 days a week that would give us an extra $800 a month. The plasma place is open again too, so he may donate tomorrow.

Anyway, my stomach was all messed up due to the poor sleep. I doubt it’ll do me much good but I’m going to give the mouthguard another try soon.

Anyway, in this nightmare I had, I was in an adult version of Valleyhead, thanks to my parents who were alive. Everyone had their own room, though. I visited a woman’s room and liked the way she had it set up. I also seemed to know her well. She was on the ground floor and had a door open to the outside. It was cold, dark, and snowy, wherever it was.

Then we were all in a common area sitting in rows of benches. There were about 5 people on each bench and about 6 rows.

Just got the referral and nearly fell flat on my ass. I tripped on a bump in the sidewalk but because I’m so fat and so exhausted I had to run several steps to catch myself when I could normally catch myself in just a second. I really think I’m going to have to see a sleep specialist. This is just ridiculous. I don’t understand how Tom and others can get used to poor sleep.

Back to the dream. My father visited one time and asked why I didn’t take advantage of a certain grant I had and make a decent career for myself. Why didn’t I become a lawyer? he asked me, leaving me feeling worthless and not good enough and wishing I’d thought to ask him why he didn’t become a lawyer or get some “important” job like that himself.

As we were all sitting there, perhaps to watch a movie, I heard a really loud plane all of a sudden, and thought to myself, oh no, please tell me they don’t fly that low here! But then I looked out the window at the end of the long room and saw a plane heading right for us. I thought we were all dead for sure, but it plowed through the other side of the room.

I had a feeling this dream meant that it wasn’t going to be a good day, and it wasn’t. But I now know more than I did earlier and will write about it some other time. For now, I just have to hope to hell I don’t have a nightmare tonight, too.

[havroth-traveler]

Pokemon: year 2-10

Phew my time here is finally over. When I started here 10 years ago I didn't think I wind up spending a huge chunk of time in jail. What? You didn't expect that, did you? Okay let me walk you through it.

The second year in Pokemon started with me on a boat back towards Jubilife City. Turns out you need to restart the gyms every year, and register with the pokemon league in jubilife city. The travel over there, and registration cost took a huge cut out of my savings.

There was a mandatory 1 week review of league rules and basics for every returning training, and a 2 month school for anyone under 14. I have no idea how my drop in worked last time but I wasn't about to question it.

The second go around I was much more focused. It took some effort but I stayed on task, and didn't go mess around at the beach for weeks at a time. I made it to the elite 4 this time. My team, Floatzel, Dustox, Bronzong, Toxicroak, Abomasnow, and Rhypherior made a good showing, but we just weren't ready for back to back to back challenges like that.

And challenging the elite 4 is expensive. There's a reason all those rich ace trainers are on victory road. They need all the money they can get.

Money was also what git me into trouble. While Eugene wasn't in Eterna City, we met up in Veilstone City. He mentioned that he new some guys who needed some muscle fir a few months, and that since I made it all the way to the elite 4 the year before, I'd be a great candidate for some cushy position after I made an impression as part of the hired muscle. I didn't want to go around again. It got more and more expensive each consecutive year you tried for the champion spot. Most of those Ace trainers I mentioned before we either still 17, or had jobs they did every other year.

Being a grunt of team rocket wasn't bad. Pay was great, and benefits were better. I worked a few months at a base that was up by Snowpoint City. When they were done they told me to reach out if I ever needed more work. I spent that winter practicing my cold weather camping. I know I could have easy rented a spot in town, but I love camping, especially with my pokemon. They were all great friends. When the thaw came round I gave Ponce, the Recruiting Guy for Team Rocket a call. I got lucky, they had heard rumors of rare colored grimers down under jubilife city, and Eugene was an excellent reference for my ability to explore and find pokemon.

I was good at catching those Shiney grimes. The rebreather I got made dealing with the stink of rot of sewers bearable, add to that a bronzong who didn't even need to breath and I had stumbled into a cash cow. The problem turned out to be that catching rare grimers and not reporting it was a crime. Office Jenny gave chase. I managed to stash my stuff in hidden corner of one of the ventilation system before getting arrested.

The trail was quick since I had the pokemon on my belt. No one from team rocket contacted me. No lawyers were given. I just got sentenced for 8 years. My pokemon released.

8 years for poaching, pokemon trafficking, evading arrest, possession of un reported rare pokemon, and battling with out a permit.

Well, I might have lost my stuff and my pokemon, but at least pokemon prisoners got food, and sun light, excersize.

At midnight, I felt reality twist, as the jump had ended. Time to see what > has next for me.

[queen-haq]

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 9

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 9

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Rating: R for language.

Words: ~2000 words.

Summary: You’ve been sleeping with Billy Russo for a few months now. Knowing his aversion to emotional commitments, you’re satisfied with your clandestine arrangement until you catch him having dinner with Dinah Madani one night. Then it finally dawns on you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to commit, he just doesn’t want to commit to *you*.

Billy may think he knows you, but he has no idea what he’s just lost...

Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5   Part 6   Part 7   Part 8

Part 9

The smile on your face was stiff and insincere as Marcus Boyd walked you back to your car. As much as you loathed the asshole, you needed him and that meant paying him a personal visit in his home in Connecticut. He was a very successful defense lawyer, on his way to becoming a managing partner in a prestigious New York law firm in a few years. Because of his career, he had access to many seedy characters which is what you were here to leverage. You needed an unregistered gun, and he had connections who could provide you one. If that meant putting up with him for an hour, you were willing to do it.

“Y/N,” he said with a slick smile, standing next to you as you unlocked your car door. “It was wonderful to see you again.”

“No, it wasn’t,” you replied. “It never is. But we do what we have to, right?”

His eyes narrowed, shifting to something menacing. “I forgot how tactless you can be.”

You gave him a mocking smile. “Here’s hoping you won’t have to see me again soon.”

“Next time you need something, don’t come to me,” he warned.

“Same goes for you.” You leveled him with a cold look. “When can I expect a call?”

“A few days.”

“Fine.” You got into your car and shut the door, feeling relieved at no longer being around the slimy bastard.

Marcus was someone you met at college in your first year. He was a rich entitled sophomore, about to flunk out. You were good at hacking into things, and had managed to get your hands on a few exams Marcus desperately needed to pass. That was the beginning of your partnership with him. You helped him graduate and he paid you a lot of money in return. Thanks to him and his friends, you were able to get your degree with minimal student loans. Although the two of you despised each other, the threat of mutual destruction meant you trusted him to keep your search for a registered gun to himself and he trusted you not to spill his secrets.

You started driving back into the city, your mind focused on the road ahead when your phone pinged. You glanced down. An unknown number was calling you. If it was like the other anonymous calls you received, they would call you a fucking bitch as soon as you picked up and hang up on you. You had no doubt that it was Adam calling, considering the calls started after he was released, which only proved how unhinged he was. A smarter man would have been on his best behaviour when out on bail but he was so filled with rage he didn’t even bother to temper his actions. You had already reached out to the prosecutor and informed them of the calls, but you doubted it would lead to anything. Most likely Adam was using disposable phones, which meant there was no direct proof he was the one making the calls. You were scared, of course you were, which was why you’d reached out to Marcus even though you didn’t like the prick. It’s not like you could rely on Trevor, the bodyguard Roger had assigned to keep you safe. He was lazy and not very bright, and even if he was good at what he did Valiant wouldn’t be paying for your protection indefinitely. All of that meant you had to take this matter into your own hands. It wasn’t going to be easy, but it was the only way for you to feel safe again.

Your thoughts turned to Billy, something you actively tried to avoid, but there wasn’t anything else to distract your mind away from him. It had been a week since you blocked him, and as much as you hated to admit it, you missed him. He’d been a part of your life for almost a year and you really enjoyed his company before things got messy between you two. If you hadn’t developed feelings for him and then caught him on a date with Dinah Madani, you guys would probably still be sleeping together – but you did, and seeing him with someone like her made it crystal clear his lack of feelings for you. The truth hurt like hell, but you’d get over it. You were a realist after all. You knew he was out of your league and there was nothing you could do to make Billy want you.

The speaker on your car piped up with a message notification. It was a text from Davina, reminding you of the girls night out planned for tomorrow night. It was a mutual friend’s birthday and the plan was for all of you to go to a new club that recently opened. You were looking forward to it, mostly as it would keep your mind off Adam but also because you were hoping to go out and meet someone new. No doubt Billy had already found someone else to fill your spot on his weekly rotation but you weren’t built like him and needed time to process your lingering feelings. You still weren’t over him, but you were ready to move on.

Now you just needed to get back home and come up with a reason as to how you lost your bodyguard in case Roger asked. Somehow, though, you doubted Trevor would willingly tell Roger about you disappearing for a few hours so you weren’t too worried. No one knew about your connection with Marcus and you intended to keep it that way.

***

The next evening you, Davina, and a few others were at Pravda, a new club downtown, to celebrate your friend Kiran’s birthday. You were wearing a low-cut black jumpsuit paired with silver stilettos, while your lips were painted maroon. Choosing to keep focus on the lips, you had ensured the rest of your make-up was light and dewy which went well with your straightened hair. It had taken a lot of double-sided tape to make sure your breasts were in check in your outfit but it was worth the effort. You felt like a proper goddess tonight, surrounded by your beautiful friends at a private table in the VIP lounge.

An hour later you were buzzed, giggling and laughing as you and a few others headed back to the private booth from the dance floor. After dancing up a storm, you guys were all parched and desperate for a drink. Davina was holding your hand as she led you through the crowds but you knew something was wrong when she stopped unexpectedly. You thought you heard her swear but you couldn’t be sure due to the loud music.

“What’s-” The words died in your mouth when you realized what Davina was staring at. Billy fucking Russo, sitting at your table, chatting it up with Kiran who was sitting next to him. The moment you saw them, you felt red-hot anger flood over you. While Kiran was a good friend, she wasn’t someone you confided in. She had no idea you’d been sleeping with Billy so you didn’t blame her for flirting with him. But Billy, god you hated him! There was no way his showing up at the same club as you was a co-incidence, which meant he was purposely here to flirt with your friends. To hurt you.

“Want to leave?” Davina asked, looking at you with concern.

“No, it’s fine,” you replied in a clipped tone.

“Are you sure?”

“He’s here because he wants to piss me off.”

“I thought you said he was cool about the break-up.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Thought he was.”

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

You didn’t answer, instead taking the lead to walk past her. You returned to your seat across from where he and Kiran were sitting. Davina came to sit beside you. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as his molten eyes trailed down to your breasts, lingering on you. Dressed in a simple grey t-shirt, designer no doubt, and a pair of black trousers and open leather jacket, he looked absolutely beautiful with his perfectly styled hair and trimmed beard.

“Hey guys, this is Billy,” Kiran greeted, eyeing him appreciatively. “He ordered us more champagne. Isn’t that so nice of him?”

On the table in front of you was an expensive bottle, chilling in ice. You quirked your eyebrow. Apparently Billy was in the mood to splurge on your friends. “That’s nice of him,” you remarked noncommittally.

“Billy, this is Davina and Y/N,” Kiran said.

His eyes were locked with yours, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Oh, I know Y/N very well.”

Kiran turned to look at you. “You do?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Through work.”

Billy leaned forward, his smoldering gaze holding you hostage. “Y/N and I are very good friends.”

“Acquaintances,” you corrected.

As if sensing the tension in the air, Kiran pulled away from Billy. Meanwhile, he picked up the bottle of champagne and started pouring the liquid in the empty glasses in front of him. “You’re giving Kiran the wrong idea about us, Y/N. She might think you don’t like me very much.”

“She’d be right,” you snarked, ignoring the glass of champagne he held out for you.

“I’ll take that,” Davina replied, snatching the glass from his hands.

Your friends were suddenly talking all at once but all you could focus on was Billy’s heated gaze on you. With every second that passed his eyes on you seemed to grow more wanton and lustful, and desire coursed through your blood at how he looked at you. You wanted him so badly you cold feel yourself getting wet, and you realized you needed to get out of there right away.

“I’m going to get a drink,” you whispered in Davina’s ear, making sure Billy didn’t hear you.

“Want me to come with you?”

“No. I’ll be fine.” You stood up quickly and made your way out of there, keenly aware of Billy’s eyes boring into your back.

Few minutes later you were sitting at one of the corner bar downstairs. This floor had a different ambience than the club upstairs, which you appreciated. The music wasn’t as loud and you found yourself enjoying the lounge vibe. It wasn’t long before someone crept up next to you at the bar and you turned to find a familiar face smiling back at you.

His name was Avi and you’d run into him a few times at the conferences you’d gone to. Broad-shouldered and husky, you’d always found him attractive in an adorable way.

“You just look…” he gave you a shy smile. “Wow.”

Seeing his reaction to you, you smiled. “Thank you.”

“I’ve always wanted to approach you but I didn’t want to come across as a creep, you know?” he explained. “You can also be very intimidating.”

That made you laugh. “I doubt that.”

As Avi and you continued to talk, you couldn’t help but enjoy how he was gawking at you. You didn’t fit society’s mould for what was considered beautiful, so all of your past flings were a result of the guys getting to know you and finding you hot because of your personality. It was rare when a guy you were attracted to was also into you right away but that seemed to be the case with Avi. You didn’t have to charm or work for him to find you hot. Instead, he was genuinely enamored with how you looked which was refreshing.

His phone rang with a text notification. Scanning through the message, he flashed you an apologetic glance. “Shit. I have to go.”

Disappointed, you pouted your lips. “That’s too bad.”

“Would you want to go out sometime?” he asked shyly.

“I’d like that.” You reached for your phone and scrolled through to the contacts app to add his name before handing the phone to him. “Add your number.”

After you said your goodbyes, you ordered your third gin and tonic and were enjoying your drink at the bar when someone grazed up against you. Seated on a high bar stool, you were expecting Davina to have come looking for you. Instead, you found Billy sidling up to you. He looked pissed off and angrier than you’d ever seen him.  

“Give me your phone,” he barked.

“Go to hell.”

Unexpectedly he gripped your stool and pulled you closer, throwing you off so you were forced to hold on to him for regain your balance. He perched his foot up on the bottom ledge of the stool, closing you in fully. “Unblock me now.”

‘Go fuck yourself.”

His dark eyes seemed to suddenly grow even darker, more monster than human. “Who was that guy you were talking to?”

“My future boyfriend.”

Billy’s lips curved into a sneer. “Not if he knows what’s good for him.”

“Why don’t you go back to flirting with my friend and leave me the fuck alone?”

“She was flirting. I wasn’t.”

“I don’t care. Go sleep with whoever you want, and I’ll do the same.”

Billy simply stared at you for a beat, his jaw clenched. “You’re not fucking anyone else.”

Sitting up straight, you leveled him with a hostile look. “I just met someone who was nice, sweet, and really fucking cute. And he wasn’t an asshole like you. Trust me, I will fuck him. I might even suck him off here tonight if he plays his cards right. And there isn’t a single thing you can do to stop that.”

He dipped his head towards you, leaning in closer so you were the only one who could hear him. His voice may have been flat, but his words were laced with cold fury when he spoke next. “If he touches you, he’s dead. I’ll start with his hands. I’ll break his fingers one by one for daring to touch you. Next I’ll cut off his dick, his balls, other parts of him slowly, carefully, so he feels every inch of the excruciating pain I’ll put him through. I’ll fill him with adrenaline so he doesn’t pass out from the pain. I’ll gouge out his eyes last because he needs to see that I’m the one who turned him into a mutilated lump of flesh. And then maybe, if I’m feeling nice, I might slit his throat to end his suffering.” His eyes never leaving yours, he reached for your drink at the bar and chugged it.

“You’re a fucking psychopath,” you said, your throat suddenly parched. Your heart was beating rapidly, your stomach coiled into knots. Fear should have flooded over you -  it didn’t. Instead, you were aroused.

“No one takes what’s mine.”

“I’m not your fucking possession. You don’t own me.” You closed your eyes, taking deep breaths as your emotions – and the walls – started to all swirl together. Like always, just when you thought he might have cared enough to admit he was jealous, he showed his true colours. Billy’s anger had nothing to do with his feelings for you. Rather, it was about his ego. Shit. You felt dizzy, the drinks had started to hit you. “Why don’t you go bother Dinah and her new man? Didn’t you say she was seeing someone else? Go pull your psychopath routine on them.”

He tucked his finger under your chin, lifting your face up to meet his gaze again. The emotions in his eyes played havoc with your senses as he pressed in closer, so close you could feel his warm breath on your skin.

“I don’t care who Dinah dates or fucks.”

The air was thick with tension.  It felt as if there was no one else in the bar but you and Billy, his one hand under your chin, the other pressed against the small of your back. You felt heady and light-headed with anticipation and desire, but you were also angry. Angry that you still wanted him, that he wouldn’t give you space to get over him. “Why can’t you leave me alone?”

His fingers gripped the side of your face, and you exhaled a sharp breath when he grazed your forehead with his. Temples touching, his eyes held you transfixed in place.  “Because you’re mine.” The possessiveness in his voice was unsettling, but it was the way he was staring at you – as if he could see right through to your core – that made your stomach flip-flop. “Mine.” His thumb swiped along your bottom lip, as if marking you as his. “And I’m yours.”

Billy was a player, an asshole, and there was comfort in that because it meant you knew where you stood with him, but now he was defying expectations, crossing the boundaries you’d carefully set for yourself, and you weren’t ready for that. None of that mattered, however, because you were suddenly feeling really, really sick.  “I have to go,” you mumbled. The room was spinning as you tried to jump off the chair but your knees almost gave way. Billy was there to catch you in his arms, holding you up.

“Woah, you okay?”

You pushed him off and ran.

Part 10

A/N - As always, thank you for the support, the feedback, the likes/reblogs, and the asks. I’m stoked to keep writing this because of you guys. Please let me know your thoughts on the chapter!

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gif-credit: @the-darkling

[sidespart]

For the fic title thing: Make Up Your Mind/Catch Me I’m Falling

Make Up Your Mind (this seriously got away from me and became basically a whole string of conscious fic whoops)

Logince, Bakery/coffeeshop AU Mutual Pining/ Not-Actually-Unrequited love, + loceit friendship

So Janus owns a Bakery (struggling to think of a snake/lie based bread pun for the name but ehh). He is the head only baker and sends most of his time in the basement kitchen blasting the phantom of the opera soundtrack and kneading dough. 

Logan is his childhood friend. Janus hired him as cashier after Logan dropped out of collage but then he never left and is now basically manager/ accountant/ hbic of this whole operation.

So one night as Janus is leaving he’s casually like: ‘oh by the way, a couple are coming by tomorrow for a wedding cake consultation’

And Logan blocks the door and is like: ‘Janus. We don’t do wedding cakes. We don’t even do cake. You only make weird artisanal bread. it took me 6 months and 8 powerpoint presentations to convince you to sell banana loaf’

Jan, his eye enormous: ‘but Logan, you should have heard this guy on the phone. They only want to use LGBTQ businesses for their wedding, they want to support the community that’s supported them for so long. He spoke so passionately and eloquently about why it just had to be us I couldn't say no’

Logan, his eyes not enormous: did you tell this man we make wedding cakes just to make the phone conversation end?

Janus: I was going to miss the murder, she wrote marathon, Logan 

So Jan manages to escape, and Logan rolls his eyes but like. This is nowhere near the worst ‘cleaning up after Janus lied to get out of a situation and made everything more complicated for no goddamm reason’ incident that he has had to deal with during the course of their friendship so, whatever: he can tell the couple there was a miscommunication when they show up in the morning. 

Next day, the guys arrive. Virgil, who barley introduces himself and then stays hunched in his hoodie not speaking for the whole meeting, and Roman. 

Roman does not have a problem speaking. Roman has lots of ideas.

Roman has a binder. 

Somehow in the course of this conversation Logan goes from ‘we don’t make wedding cakes’ to ‘I’LL SHOW YOU, WE’LL MAKE THE BEST GODDAMM WEDDING CAKE THIS TOWN HAS EVER SEEN’

Maybe it was the passion of Romans argument. Maybe it was the slightly disdainful look on his face when he looked round the shop. Maybe it was the ridiculous amount of money he was prepared to pay (see: Janus insists on only making specific, weird bread as to why the shop’s always on the brink of collapse). Maybe it was the power of the binder (Logan is like 80% sure Roman hit him with the binder at one point). Maybe its just Logan hasn't had a full blown passionate argument like that since high school debate club and the rush of adrenaline made him dumb.

Whatever the reason - they’re now fully committed to making this 6 tier, purple and blue, Disney inspired, multiflavoured wedding cake

(Janus, who skipped out on the meeting because he is Like That: But Logan....we don’t make wedding cakes...this was really irresponsible of you...

 Logan: I know where you sleep. I could kill you at any time) 

Which would be doable (the weddings a while off, and Logan is ready to RESEARCH) except Roman keeps. Coming. Back. 

With new ideas. And tweaks. And suggestions. All of them seemingly designed to make the cake less structurally sound. 

Basically every time he comes in they end up having a blazing row, first about Romans inability to make up his mind about the cake and then about...literally everything. One time they spent 25 minuets arguing about whether or not Shakespeare wrote all of his plays, which somehow turns into ‘who was the best host of blues clues?’ which then turned  into ‘how would nationalised healthcare best be implemented?’ (the loudest arguments were during the blues clues section).Logan had even fewer customers then normal that day.

(Logan: I hate that guy so much! He shows up at 2pm every day and now my blood pressure has started going up at 1.55pm in anticipation of the fight! He’s causing me actual medical distress because he’s so stupid!

Janus:...you’ve memorised some guys schedule and your heart starts racing whenever you see him?

Logan: yes! because he is my enemy!

Janus:...

Janus: mmKay.)

ANYway, one day Roman turns up and is like: Can’t fight today. Need caffeine. Must Study. and sequesters himself on one of their two rinky dink tables and starts pulling enormous textbooks out of his bag. Turns out Roman is in law school, he’s back home for the whole summer to help with wedding prep and has been neglecting his summer reading. He wants to be an environmental lawyer and, ideally, singly handily prosecute every oil company and give a speech at the UN whilst wearing an immaculately fitted Italian suit. 

Logan has a panicked moment of OH NO HE’S SMART (he doesn't need an oh no he’s hot moment because Roman’s been hot the whole time). Very carefully he does not think about how upset hearing Roman mention the wedding again made him feel, and then shares a bit about his own anxiety during college which led to him dropping out.

Roman says degree or no degree its obvious Logan is one of the smartest, most capable people Romans ever met.

Cue: blushing, stammering, Logan standing up to quickly and knocking half a pot of coffee over etc etc all that good fluff. 

And after that their conversations are less confrontational (although they still debate like. everything.) and more friendly.

They have one (1) more conversation about the wedding wherein Roman apologises for being so stressed and snappy over all the preparation stuff but he just wants everything to be perfect for Virgil. (Logan, awkwardly: you must love him a lot. Roman, himbo-ly: Yeah!) aaand then Logan changes the subject to the best rhyming structure because Romans big sappy grin is making his heart do awful twisty things-

And eventually, Roman asks Logan to go out with him outside the bakery.

Logan: hahaha this is friendship, we are great friends, we are going out as friends. I am not going on a date with a man with a fiancé because that would be the actions of a crazy person.

 So they go on their date. It’s amazing. Roman leans in for a kiss at the end and Logan is delighted!

And then devastated.

He pushes Roman away, yells some creative insult (malodorous centurion?) and flees. Spends the next week basically hiding in the kitchen area, refusing to see any customers and working on the wedding cake.

(which is looking perfect by the way)

So after a week of Logan moping round the kitchen Janus finally blocks the door to stop him leaving and demand he tells him what the hell is wrong. And after a few minuets of filibustering Logan ends up telling him everything.

“In any case, the very fact that he is the kind of man who would cheat on his fiancé means he’s not the kind of man I thought he was. Therefore any alleged feelings I may have developed towards him would now be null and void” says Logan, looking like the worlds sadist accountant

Janus: So...wait. You’re saying wedding cake guy and hot lawyer guy are the same person?

(Logan: you need to come out of the basement more often Janus: YOU need to tell me what’s going on in your life more often. (they have had this conversation many times in the past))

So Janus sincerely tells Logan he’s sorry...and that he’s even more sorry that he needs him to help him deliver the cake to the venue tomorrow.

(this thing is way to big for one person to carry and there’s no way Jan would trust any of their occasional teenage cover staff to do this and ‘we’ll go round the back and you wont have to see anyone anyway comon Lo’ you basically built this monstrosity you should see it home)

So, reluctantly, Logan goes. And they go round the back as promised, and get this enormous cake settled, and then get told to wait there one sec cus one of the grooms is going to come sign for it and before Logan can throw himself out of the widow (get OFF me Janus we’re on the ground floor it’s FINE)  from behind them they hear squeeing.

There’s a curly haired dude in a pastel blue linen suit who Logan has never seen before in his life looking at the cake and cooing over ���all the little details! its perfect! oh Virgil is going to love this! You know he was so embarrassed about asking for a Disney themed cake he had to ask Roman to go with him to -”

“Who ARE you?”

The man blinked at Logan, who realised dimly that he still had one foot up on the windowsill and slowly returned it to the floor. 

“I’m Patton” said Patton.

“And I’m Janus” said Janus, removing his arms from where they’d still been clamped around Logan’s waist and stepping smoothly towards Patton, clipboard held aloft “A pleasure to meet you, if you could just sign here...”

“BUT-” Patton paused, hand still raised to accept the clipboard, and looked over again at Logan who found himself mumbling:  “but - but the groom is supposed to sign for it?”

And Patton just smiled at him looking a bit bemused and goes ‘I am the groom? And who are you kiddo?”

Logan says he’s Logan. Patton suddenly looks a whole lot less friendly. 

“Oh.” says Patton. “You.”

And since Logan’s mind is currently refusing to take in the information in front of him Janus is the one who ends up stepping in between them and going “so just for 100% transparency - you are Patton. 

“yes?”

“and today you are marrying the love of your life: Virgil?”

“Yes!”

“And are either of you, at any point today, also planning on marrying one Roman Sanders, caffeine addict and terrible communicator?”

And Paton burst out laughing and says “ROMAN? Virgil’s big brother Roman? He’s my best man but I don’t think we’re planning to take it any further...”. And because Patton is apparently much quicker on the emotional uptake than Logan he gives him a vey soft, if slightly exasperated, look and says:

“Roman - who again, is my future brother-in-law- is helping set up in the main hall.”

And Logan likes to think he said thank you before he took off fucking RUNNING through the building but he can’t be sure.

So he gets to the hall, where a load of people are setting out chairs, putting up flowers etc,  and skids to a stop at one end of the aisle. Shouts: “ROMAN.” (Roman and Virgil, who were standing at the other end arguing over a flower arrangements, both look up) “YOU’RE NOT MARRYING YOUR BROTHER.”

“um.” Says Roman “No?”

Explanations are given. Virgil, who is a lot more talkative now that he’s not on 7th wedding appointment of the day burn out, is ready to physically fight Logan for breaking his brothers heart. And then once he understands the full story is ready to kill both of them for being such dumbasses.

Roman: But I s2g I told the guy on the phone that it was the groom and best man coming??? Logan: Yeah he might have lied and said you were a couple for a joke, or he may have just straight up not listened to you. Either way, he is just Like That.

Logan: WHY DID YOU NEVER MENTION VIRGIL WAS YOUR BORTHER?? Roman: I WAS TRYING TO GET TO KNOW YOU AND ALSO SEDUCE YOU WHY WOULD I WASTE TIME TALKING ABOUT MY LITTLE BROTHER??? Virgil: Yeah...he does like talking about himself, sorry he’s just  Like That.

Anyway it all ends fluffily, Patton and Virgil get married. Roman cries. Logan and Jan hang around for the wedding. Roman and Logan hold hands throughout the speeches and dance during the reception. Roman has to go back to law school soon but they agree to call each other every day at 2pm to catch up and argue. 

Janus gets off with the moustachioed DJ. 

And Roman and Logan get another chance at their first kiss.

[kieraelieson]

Centaur AU 8

When Thomas woke up, rather slowly, feeling itchy and groggy and much in need of a shower, it was to soft voices and little clops of moving hooves.

“And where is the rest of the food?”

“That’s all there is out here. Mostly we tend to eat the pre-made stuff.”

“I’ll have to put it on the list too then.”

Thomas opened his eyes, registering that Patton and Emile were talking.

Patton sighed. “It’s just… strange. I worry that with all of the new nice things that once Thomas leaves it’ll be so miserable and I don’t know how I’ll be able to handle it.”

“Thomas won’t be leaving. Or if he does, we’ll be taking you with us.” Emile promised.

Thomas nodded slightly, staying silent.

Patton moved, peeking over the shorter wall that separated his stall from the one Thomas was using as a bed, met Thomas’s eyes, and jumped back with a sound rather like a loud squeak.

“Oh, dear! I’m sorry, I didn’t think you were awake.”

Thomas sat up. “No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s alright,” Emile said. “Little mishaps happen, you both are fine.”

Thomas stood up and stretched, gratefully noting that Emile was making breakfast for everyone. Between yesterday and now already this morning, he could tell he was going to greatly appreciate Emile. He was going to have to find some way to pay Emile back somehow.

He opened the stall, seeing Roman and Remy blinking and drowsy, and Virgil very much awake.

“Let me see what we have going for today,” he said, mostly to himself, as he walked over to the schedule on the wall. “Oh, Emile, thanks for making breakfast.”

“You’re welcome.” Emile said. “Though, as you may have heard, we are woefully short on ingredients.”

Thomas nodded.

“What about coffee?” Remy asked. “Please tell me they have coffee here.”

“Not yet.”

Remy let out a long groan and flopped onto the floor dramatically.

Thomas couldn’t help a little smile. He looked at the schedule, trying to parse out the rather terrible handwriting. He should get a new one and fill it out himself. His handwriting might not be that much better, but he could read it himself more easily, and he wouldn’t have to try and translate names with a tired brain.

Patton had a party at five, though it didn’t say when it ended. And Logan had one of those charity things, which he would certainly not be doing. Thomas considered a long moment, and then started looking for a phone number. He was probably the one that had to call and cancel things like that.

He finally found a whole list of phone numbers on the back of the calendar, and managed to get the right one, and tell them that Logan wouldn’t be able to participate in anything for at least six months, or however long the vet said after follow-up visits.

They weren’t very happy about it. But in this, Thomas wouldn’t take no for an answer, and if they were going to talk to the Authiers’ lawyer, well, hopefully the lawyer knew what to do. Because Logan wasn’t going back to a single one of those contests, legal or otherwise, until he was both healed and wanted to.

He turned back around to see worried faces, and wished that the phone wasn’t corded so that he could have taken it outside and not worried them all.

“It’s alright, I just canceled all of Logan’s events for the next few months. He’ll be fine to rest up and get well now.”

“Well that’s good,” Roman said.

Virgil and Patton nodded solemnly.

Thomas yawned and considered. What should he do next? It took a moment to come to his fuzzy brain, but he realized that he should come up with something for them all to do all morning, rather than just standing around. He felt slightly bad about having the paddock be his go-to, but it was worlds better than being cooped up in a stall, and he didn’t really know enough to give them somewhere else to… perhaps that’s what they could do. Explore the estate as a group and find all the places where they could go, and figure out what there was to do.

He had to have Patton back, clean and ready, by five then, and he needed to do something to set up Logan first, but that seemed like a very good plan. Also, considering clean and ready, they would all need a good brushing down at some point. Perhaps he ought to aim at getting back by three then, and asking Remy and Emile for help setting up a kind of grooming circle.

But he had a plan! And one that, barring unforeseen troubles, seemed like a good one. It wasn’t too ambitious, and it might even go well.

But first breakfast. Which… he didn’t really have. And he felt absolutely terrible to say it, but he didn’t want to try the centaurs’ food. He’d always kind of guessed they didn’t mind that weird grassy smell, cause they ate grass anyway. That was a thing he needed to ask about.

“Well, if they have a bunk room, they might have something like a cafeteria here, I’m going to see if I can find it and get some breakfast. If there’s coffee, I’ll bring you back a cup, Remy. Also, I might need your phone, and I’ll expect someone to call me if Logan wakes up.”

Remy, still splayed out on the floor in a rather uncomfortable-looking position, nodded and floundered, trying to reach his bag without getting up. He was unsuccessful, much to the amusement of everyone watching. He made sure to pout at each and every one of them once he got his bag and his phone.

“You know someday it won’t be little funny smiles!” he threatened, turning away from them all.

“Thank you, Remy,” Thomas said seriously. “I’ll be sure to get you coffee.”

Remy grumbled out something that might have been a thank you, or perhaps something else.

And then Thomas went for a walk, running his hands through his hair and swiping at his clothes to hopefully make himself look less like he’d been sleeping in a pile of hay. He vaguely knew that the bunkhouse was somewhere roughly straight from one wall of the stable, though he wasn’t certain how far it would be. And he just hoped someone would still be in the bunkhouse that he could ask.

Perhaps he should have asked one of the centaurs to come with him. It would be faster, and another set of hands in case he had to bring back several things. But he didn’t want to stop them from eating or having a bit of time to themselves. They certainly could use all the good things he could possibly get them.

He walked a good way before seeing the building, and jogging towards it. He was lucky enough to reach it right as someone else was walking out.

“Oh! Uh, excuse me, can I…” He had to pause a moment to breathe, but managed to continue. “I’m looking for a… cafeteria?”

“Yeah, it’s over this way, but breakfast ends at nine, you should hurry.” They pointed to a different nearby building, with its doors standing open.

Thomas nodded quickly. “Thank you!”

He ran into the cafeteria, grateful to see that the line was only a few people long. There was prepared eggs, sausage, bacon, something that looked like oatmeal perhaps, and toast. Thomas piled up his plate and then looked until he found the coffee. He served himself a cup of coffee and found some to-go cups, filling one up with coffee as close to the way he knew Remy liked it.

He felt rather overwhelmed by hurrying, especially as he glanced at a clock on the wall and saw that, if nine truly was the cut off, he only had ten minutes to eat. But despite his hurry, he had a fleeting question float through his mind. Would any of the other centaurs want coffee?

He should find a way to get decent food to them. Or bring them here. They may indeed like grass and hay and food made from it, but they also liked normal food, and should have it as a regular option.

He just didn’t know how. Yet.

He was working on it. And that would have to be enough for the moment.

Thomas tried to relax a little and eat, but he couldn’t help worrying that something bad would happen while he was gone.

Soon he was getting up and going back towards the stables, hoping that everything was fine, that they’d had a nice breakfast and Logan was still peacefully sleeping, but worrying that it wouldn’t be the case.

When he opened the door though, they all seemed perfectly fine. Logan was even still asleep. He really needed to trust them a bit more.

“Hi, guys,” he said, feeling more than a little awkward, all out of breath from having hurried back when nothing was wrong.

“Did you get my coffee?” Remy asked eagerly.

Thomas nodded. “ Yeah, I did, here. It’s not hot anymore, but it’s still a bit warm.”

Remy made a weird face, somewhere between grateful and still a bit displeased at the luke-warm coffee.

Thomas agreed with him, honestly. It wasn’t even close to ideal. And surely there was something better they could do. “I wanted to talk with you all.”

Virgil seemed concerned, but the rest of them watched him curiously.

“About what?” Patton asked.

“Well… this isn’t working out the best…”

On seeing the look on Virgil’s face, Thomas quickly backtracked. “Not like I’m giving up! Not at all. More like, I’m gonna need some help to know how to actually move forward. I’ve been doing my best, but it’s not exactly worked out well.”

“Ok…” Roman said slowly. “I think we can agree that things haven’t exactly gone the best, but… it’s not like we can help with much.”

Thomas nodded. “I know it feels that way, it does to me too, but there has to be something we can do. For starters, there’s the cafeteria. It exists, and I know that now, but do you guys want to go there? If you do, I’m sure I can come up with a way to make them let us in. It’s big enough. Or perhaps we could have them set out tables outside for you all. But I need to know that it’s what you want too. If you don’t care, or would rather stay here, we can work that out too.”

There was some shuffling back and forth, and several pairs of eyes staring at the ground.

“Well, I for one want hot coffee. Count me in.” Remy said firmly. “And I bet Emmy wants to come get some real food too.”

Emile nodded. “Yes, I’d prefer more of a variety of food than what is here.”

Thomas looked at Roman in particular next, hoping he would have more firm opinions.

Roman sighed, a rather pinched look on his face. “I like the idea of better food, but I’m not sure if I want to deal with all the other workers to get it.”

Patton nodded immediately. “We’d have to be quiet, and they would say rude things, and it would be pretty miserable even with the good food.”

Virgil nodded silently, clearly agreeing with Patton.

“Alright then,” Thomas said. “Well, what if I were to call the Authiers and see about officially changing what you’re all fed? If I insisted, I’m sure there’s a possibility of getting food sent here. We’d perhaps have to deal with the courier, but that would be less trouble.”

“If it’s at all possible, which is not certain,” Logan said.

Thomas went immediately to his stall to check on him. “Are you feeling ok? Would you want more painkillers? You haven’t eaten yet, right?”

Logan gave him an odd look. Of all of them, Thomas had the hardest time decoding what Logan’s looks were supposed to mean.

“Yes. Painkillers would be nice, and I haven’t eaten yet.”

Thomas nodded quickly, shooting Emile a glance. Emile was ahead of him already, getting a plate of food for Logan. Thomas went and made the same kind of slurry with the medicine that Logan had asked for the other time, putting some drink mix into the water so it wouldn’t taste as bad.

Once he got back, Virgil was already in Logan’s stall, trying to help him sit up without jostling his legs. Emile handed the plate in and then backed up so Thomas could get in with the medicine.

“Here you go, and I’ll go get some clean bandages to wrap your legs up in.”

Logan nodded stiffly and then downed the medicine with a slight grimace.

Thomas grabbed a few rolls of bandages and went in, extremely concerned to see Logan looking spacey already.

He knelt down next to Logan’s shoulder, laying his hand on his gently and rubbing very small circles. “Hey, there, Logan, are you with me?”

Logan looked at him silently, his face concerningly blank.

“I’m a bit concerned, ok? Can you stay here with me? I’d like to know I’m not hurting you, so I’ll need you to talk with me, ok?”

Logan let out a sigh. “I won’t be hurt by the changing of bandages.”

“Well, I certainly hope not, but just in case, can you try and stay present with me? And with Virgil?”

Logan looked up at Virgil, who was much more obviously concerned than even Thomas was. He slowly nodded.

“Alright. Here’s what I’m going to do, I’m going to run my hand down your leg to the end of the bandage and start unwinding it. Can you stay focused on Virgil for me? Tell me things about him, what colors can you see in his eyes?”

Logan frowned slightly, which was a good thing to Thomas. “What do you need to know the color of his eyes for?”

“To help you pay attention,” Virgil said softly. “You help me pay attention to safe things around me sometimes, this is like that.”

“Yes, exactly.” Thomas said, slowly and lightly running his hand down Logan’s leg. “Alright, I’m going to unwind this now. What colors can you see?”

Logan was looking far more attentive and present, staring up into Virgil’s face. “Mostly black. A very dark brown. Something that might appear green, except for the darkness of his eyes in general, which makes it look like a dark gray.”

Thomas very gently started unwinding the bandage. “That’s very good. What about his hair?”

“Most would classify the color as black. But when seen in the light there aren’t the cool undertones usually present in a pure black. I would classify it as a very dark brown.”

“That’s a very thoughtful way of saying it,” Thomas said. “My hand is going to move over to your other front leg, and then run down to unwind then bandage the same way.”

Logan nodded.

As Thomas moved to unwind the next bandage, he thought of another thing. “Why don’t you tell me about what you were doing in the paddock the other day? It seemed very clever. Something to keep you away from the holes without being able to see them clearly.”

Logan gave him another one of those odd looks when Thomas said the idea was clever. Thomas still wasn’t certain what it meant, but he decided to remember that, and use the word clever more often with Logan.

“It’s more of a common sense idea, but if you’re curious…” Logan trailed off, and Thomas looked up to see him looking the slightest bit bashful.

“I’m going to move to your back leg now. And yes, I am curious. It sounds like a useful thing to learn.”

Logan cleared his throat. “If you’d like to learn then, I suppose I’ll tell you.”

Virgil sent Thomas a look, a look that said he’d stumbled across a key, and that Virgil wasn’t certain how he was going to use it. Though to be honest, Thomas wasn’t sure either.

“I’m going to touch you now, and stroke down your leg to unwind the bandages,” Thomas said, careful to keep his tone light and unobtrusive, hoping Logan would continue.

“I am far-sighted, so I could see the holes at a distance, but not close to my own feet. If I could place the hole along the fence, and if I was careful to take measured steps, I could place it between the two fence posts, and I could know how many steps from the first post until I would need to step over or around it. Virgil was helping by confirming the distance. I haven’t yet mastered taking steps of perfectly regular length, so my calculations were often incorrect by a step or two.”

“Wow. -I’m moving to your other back leg now- That really is very smart, Logan. I’m impressed.”

Logan smiled slightly.

Thomas counted that as a very big win. “Alright, I’m going to go and get the ointment and then wrap your legs up. You can go ahead and eat your breakfast. And then the vet said we need to have you walking some, but slowly. I’ll be right back and then explain my plan.”

Logan nodded.

Thomas was quick, and soon got back with the ointment.

“So what is your plan?” Virgil asked.

“Well, first helping Logan,” Thomas said, kneeling again by his legs. “I’m going to go in the same order as last time, starting with this leg. And once I’m done, we’re going to very carefully help Logan up. If he’s doing well, then I’m hoping a few of you will help him walk around the outside of the stable a few times. -Alright, I’m moving to the next leg- And while you all walk around, I’m going to try and set up the iPad with a bunch of books, and see if I can make it so that Logan can get more when he wants to. That way he will have something calm and enjoyable to do while we’re gone. -I’m moving to your back legs now- And then I was thinking that some or all of the rest of you might want to come with me, and explore some of the estate, see what all there is, and where else we might like to spend time. Ok, last leg now, Logan.”

“That seems like a good plan,” Roman commented.

Thomas looked up to see Patton looking around at them all, confused. “What’s up, Pat?”

“Just… what’s an iPad? Is it like a bookshelf?”

Thomas was a bit concerned to see a few curious looks. Apparently several of them had never heard of an iPad.

“Well, I bought one… yesterday? Was it yesterday I went to the store? I think. Anyway, it’s a small rectangle, and it runs on electricity. It does a lot of things, and it’s pretty complicated, but the reason I bought it is that it can hold many many books inside it without taking up much space.”

Patton nodded slowly, still looking confused.

“Later today I’ll let you try it some too, ok?” Thomas said with a smile.

Patton nodded more confidently this time.

“And the rest of you too, I’m sure you’d all like a little bit to try it out. It’s mostly for Logan, especially while he’s healing, but everyone can try.”

Thomas stood up, looking around the stall. “Ok, Logan. Do you think you can stand up with just me and Virgil helping? Or would someone else be better? Or would you like to try by yourself?”

Logan frowned slightly in consideration. “I’d prefer just Virgil.”

Thomas nodded immediately and left the stall. “Just be gentle on yourself.”

Logan set his empty plate aside, held up a hand for Virgil to grab onto, and then heaved himself up. His face twisted in pain, and once he was standing he leaned heavily on the wall.

Thomas gave him a moment before asking, “How is it?”

“Painful. But bearable.”

Thomas nodded solemnly. “Ok. I’d like you to try walking around the stable. Take long, slow steps, don’t push it too much. If the pain changes at all, stop there and come back in to lay down.”

Logan nodded, very slowly moving to leave the stall.

Thomas left it to them all to take care of him, and tried to figure out where he’d left the iPad, and where would be a good place to plug it in.

From outside, he heard quite a few ‘be careful’s, followed by Logan saying ‘I may be injured, but I don’t want to be babied, I can walk on my own’.

Thomas smiled to himself. With Logan doing this well, if he could just keep going, he’d surely be better soon.

———

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[sadaboutniall]

Without Fear

masterlist | tag | wattpad

Chapter One. January.

remember that first laugh? all it changed once I had that // like a hurricane, but I don't care where I land - rome, dermot kennedy 

The whole thing had started out as a joke. Or maybe a pipe dream. Or maybe a massive mental breakdown and a poorly thought-through trip to the passport office for a rush renewal and a visa application. 

No matter how it had started, Luna hadn’t actually thought it would pan out. Two and a half months ago, standing in her parents’ kitchen in New York, reading the lawyer’s letter, it had been a shiny, exciting, half-baked idea—an escape she could cling to while everything else was going to shit. It hadn’t been a reality. 

It was hardly a reality even as it began to happen: Luna, packing her bags on a Friday night, deciding which pictures of her ex to keep and which to toss; Luna’s dad, hoisting her bags into the trunk of the car for her; Luna’s mom, petting her hair as she hugged her goodbye at the airport.

And it wasn’t real when she got to Inis Mór either: her snug little apartment above the coffee shop, the smattering of mismatched furniture that her Great Aunt Niamh had left behind, Ruairí, the black cat her new neighbor had been feeding, the mess of her suitcases, exploding on the floor, markedly different to the seemingly ancient chairs and quilts and sweaters that Niamh left for her. 

Or, just left. It’s been hard for Luna to tell what’s for her and what isn’t. 

And even now, nearly a month into living here and it only half feels real, the way she gets up every morning and putters down to the shop to open up, the cat following behind her, meowing for breakfast and Siobhan, the baker, already well on her way to done with the morning’s pastries, the smell of cinnamon and dough and vanilla and the cold air outside wafting through the shop to wake Luna up sweetly; the way old Mr. Whelan is always her first customer, never deviates from his order of a black coffee and a croissant, toasted; the rush of cold air every time someone opens the door, feeling like it’s flaying the shop open, sending napkins fluttering to the floor, causing Ruairí to hiss in protest and curl up closer to the fireplace. There’s nothing real in the way the sun sets at 4pm these days, quick as a wink over the hill outside the window, a flash of orange and purple the only reminder that day once broke in this place that always feels dark, under cover. There’s nothing real in the way Luna needn’t worry about anything here—her rent is paid and there are no deadlines anymore, no screaming bosses, no one angry with her for dropping an artist file or fucking up a coffee order. It’s not real, not even when she calls home and talks to her parents, when they tell her about her brother Sam’s new PhD research and his girlfriend Mary’s trip to Honduras. It’s not real, any of it. And it works. It’s fine. And so is Luna. 

It’s hardly real on a Monday night at the end of January, either, after Siobhan has already left for the day and Luna is quietly closing up, tucking mugs into cabinets and dropping bits of pastry on the floor for the cat. She’s not thinking about much of anything—in the month she’s been here, Lu’s found the very start and very end of her days to be the most relaxing, the way she can clear up the shop or fire up the coffee maker without having to talk to anyone, think about anything. It’s so markedly different from what feels like a lifetime ago: bustling into the office at 8:30 and still feeling like she was late, a tray of coffees balanced in one hand, someone’s dry cleaning in the other, 12 voicemails already waiting for her, 30 emails, more coming through as her phone vibrated in her pocketbook. This is quiet and slow: Ruairí is weaving between her legs, meowing gently when he wants more treats, and outside it’s dark and still and cold, despite it being only 7pm. Luna is tired but not wiped—a feeling she forgot existed before leaving New York—and it occurs to her that she can have a slice of cake tonight in front of the TV, and maybe a glass of wine, while watching Law and Order until she falls asleep. 

She’s lost in that thought—and the already building annoyance at the fact that she knows she’ll inevitably wake up on the couch at 3am and have to stumble to bed—when the door creaks open, nighttime wind rushing in, a boy stumbling after it. 

“So sorry,” Lu looks up from where she’s been wiping down the counter behind the pastry display. “I’m closing up. But I still have a few leftover slices of cake if you want—”

“Oh, erm,” the boy stills, maybe surprised, and Lu does too. He’s—well. Lu hasn’t seen anyone here who looks like him. 

He’s a mess of hat hair, dark at the roots and an unnatural blonde at the tips, curling over his ears and flopping over one eyebrow. He’s bright blue eyes, wide when he looks at her, and cheeks flushed red to match the tip of his nose, and a smattering of stubble along his face, darkening in the dimple of his chin, his pink lips chapped where his tongue darts out to soothe them. He takes her breath away for half a second—or maybe that’s the rush of wind that crashed against her chest when he opened the door. 

The boy is clutching a guitar by its neck, gloved hand wrapped almost reverently around it, and his white high-top sneakers are mucky where the rubber soles have been sludging through the perma-mud outside. He looks like something out of a dream, maybe, Lu’s heart catching a little in her throat. 

“Hi,” he says, finally, looking just as out of sorts as Lu feels. She’s not sure if that’s good or bad, but he carries on. “I wasn’t expecting—I didn’t think you would be so… uh. American? Uh,” gently, he tucks the guitar under his arm and tugs off his navy blue gloves, the cotton pilling from wear. “I’m Niall,” he reaches out a hand. It’s cold when Lu takes it to shake, when he wraps it gently around her own. “I live Kilronan.” 

“Hiya,” Lu’s voice comes out softer than she expected it to. “I’m Lu. I work here.” 

“Right, right,” Niall nods, swallows thick. “You’re Niamh’s niece? I was so sorry to hear about her passing—she—”

“Great niece,” Lu rushes over Niall, exhausted, even a month later, of every introduction on this island starting with a condolence. “I actually only met her once. But it sounds like she was a force.”

“You—once?” Niall shoves his gloves into the pocket of his puffer jacket. 

“Yeah,” Lu shrugs. “Your guess is as good as mine. Was there, uh,” she doesn’t want to get rid of him,  but doesn’t know where to go next. “Did you want one of those slices of cake? I’m sorry for you to come all the way from Kilronan for nothing.”

“Oh,” Niall looks like he’s only just remembered where he is. “No, I didn’t come for cake. I, uh, I have a… a question? An idea?”

Briefly, Lu worries if she should be nervous—but crime doesn’t happen here, not like this, and Lu knows the statistics when it comes to stranger attacks. Either way, Niall keeps talking before she can spiral, the words tumbling out like he knows he has to speak before he thinks better of it.

“I, uh, I was wondering if there’s any chance you were looking for someone to, like, play guitar and sing a bit? Like, live music in the shop for a couple hours a week? You don’t have to pay me or anything, ‘m not asking for that, but I could maybe leave my case open for tips? I can do covers or requests or—whatever you want, really. And I can give you my work schedule and we can work around that; I’m free on the weekends mostly, except for when I coach football, but also on weeknights if you’d prefer that and if you want to split the tips I understand, we can do that too, and also—” 

“Niall,” Lu can’t take it. He’s speaking so fast it’s shuttling her toward an anxiety attack, and throwing up on the shoes of the first cute boy she’s seen in a month was not on her agenda for today. Meeting a cute boy in general was not on her agenda for today, but Lu’s been learning that things don’t tend to pan out the way she plans them. “I like the idea. That sounds cool.” 

“I totally understand if—wait, really?” Niall pauses, hand halfway up to his face, like he was going to cover his mouth, or rub his eyes, or bite his nails. His brow furrows and his mouth drops open a little, like he didn’t expect it to be that easy. Like he didn’t accept Lu to be agreeable at all. 

“Yeah,” Lu shrugs, then nods at the guitar still tucked under Niall’s arm, “but you’ll need to audition for me,” she bites back a cheeky smile, watches Niall do the same. “I can’t have a crap singer driving away all my customers.”

“Ah, fair play,” the left side of Niall’s mouth pulls up into a smile, and Lu pointedly ignores the kick in her chest. “What would you like to hear?”

She shrugs again, as if “casual” or “easygoing” were ever words people would’ve used to describe her back home. “Your favorite song?”

“My favorite—” Niall scoffs, but there’s no malice in it—it’s playful, inviting, fun. It makes Lu feel like he wants to keep talking to her. Like he wants her to keep winding him up. “You think I can narrow it down to one favorite song?”

“I can,” Lu smiles, soft, “I’m good at making decisions.” 

“Go on, tell us then.” 

“You first,” Lu gestures toward a table, the only one in the shop that isn’t rickety when there’s too much weight on it. “Then I’ll tell ya.” 

Niall hums under his breath, approval, and settles himself on top of the table easily, feet perched on the chair, guitar natural in his lap. He strums once, to check that everything is in tune, and then glances up through the bit of hair that’s fallen over his eye. He’s striking—bright blue eyes, a shock of blonde at the tips of his hair, a lone dimple digging into his filled out cheeks—and Lu feels her stomach swoop and kick again. She takes a deep breath, crosses her arms over her chest. Niall sits up straight. 

“Alright,” he says it so quietly that Lu thinks it might just be for him. She’s suddenly struck with the notion that she’s intruding on something, a moment between Niall and his guitar and himself that isn’t for her—that, maybe, this isn’t something a lot of people get to see. 

And, if that’s true, Lu realises the second he starts strumming, it’s a damn shame. 

It takes Lu a second to recognize the song, but it doesn’t even matter. With a guitar in his hand Niall is even more mesmerizing. Hypnotizing. Completely, incomprehensibly, irresistible.

And then he opens his mouth. And Lu feels sick. 

It’s “With or Without You”. 

But there’s none of the corniness, none of the playful groaning and eye rolling that usually accompanies a U2 cover. Instead, Lu feels frozen to her spot in the middle of the shop, Niall, seated atop the table, eyes down, an anchor in the middle of this island. His voice, lower than she expected, and raspy in all the right places, is somehow vulnerable and confident at the same time—somehow makes her want to simultaneously hold him and be held by him, to protect him and let him protect her. It’s real. It’s vulnerable. It’s terrifying. Lu doesn’t know what to do with it. 

The song lasts forever and is over in an instant. Eyes closed, Niall carries out the final, desperate, confident, terrified, “I can’t live, with or without you,” as he stops playing and lets his voice take over. The whole shop shakes with it. Or maybe that’s just Lu, trembling. 

His eyes don’t open for a few seconds. Lu can feel herself breathing, she can feel her heart beating, she can feel the wind, outside, throwing itself against the shop’s ancient windows. She can feel it when Niall opens his eyes. 

“Was it that shite?” 

Overwhelmed, Lu exhales an unstoppable, lovely laugh. Niall’s cheeks are red and his eyes are a little glassy and he runs a hand through his thick hair, his bicep flexing just a millimeter. Lu already knows there’s no way this can last.

“Terrible,” she smiles. “Worst I’ve ever heard. When can you start?” 

####

They work out the schedule together, leaning over the only good table, comparing planners. Lu still keeps her old Moleskin, dark purple, embossed with her college seal and the year she graduated. She hasn’t needed it much lately—after years of her work, and eventually her social life, revolving around Google Calendar, she feels a freedom in being able to jot down appointments and approximate times in a messy journal. Niall’s got a battered leather one—doodles on the front, his name in script on the first page. He flips through it quickly, keeps it close to his chest. 

He works at a local furniture and home goods boutique most days, as a design consultant, and coaches the middle school’s co-ed soccer team on Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday afternoons, with games on Saturdays. Lu tells him not to overbook himself but he does it anyway, and they settle on Monday, Thursday, and Friday nights, as well as Saturday mornings, starting the next week. He says he’ll have a friend work up posters to advertise, and tries, again, to tell Lu he’ll split his tips. 

At 10:30, he notices the time, his cheeks pinking up, his chapped lower lip caught between his teeth. They’d been splitting the final two slices of cake, and there’s a tiny glob of chocolate caught in the corner of his mouth. 

“Fuck,” he says, looking reluctant, “I’ve got to go, I’m meant to be at work at 8 tomorrow morning.” 

“Oh, God,” Lu feels a bit like she’s coming out of a daze, that feeling she gets, sometimes, when she’s been reading a book or watching a movie and then has to reimmerse herself in the real world. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you.” 

“No, no,” Niall rushes, “you didn’t. I—thank you. For the chocolate cake. And the, uh, opportunity.” 

“Don’t mention it.” Lu presses her lips together, resists the urge to lean forward and thumb at the chocolate on his mouth. “You’ve got, uh, a bit of chocolate,” she touches the mirroring spot on her own mouth, “right there.” 

“Right,” he smiles, tongue darting out to catch it. “I won’t. Thanks.” 

Lu gathers the plates and cups and totes them to the sink while Niall gets his things together. When she turns around, he’s bundled in his coat and scarf, hat pulled low over his brows, free hand shoved into the pocket of his puffer. She doesn’t know how to look away from him. 

“I guess I’ll see you next week, then?” He asks, fiddling with the zipper on his puffer. He hasn’t got all the chocolate—Lu wonders what it would taste like against his lips.

“Next week,” she echoes. “Yeah.” 

“Brilliant. I’ll, uh—I’m excited. Have a good week.” 

Lu’s “and you” gets lost in her throat as she watches Niall head toward the door. His hand is on the knob when he turns back around. 

“Wait, Lu.” 

The sound of her name in his mouth makes her heart stutter. She hopes her raised brow will pass for a response. 

“You didn’t tell me.” 

“What?” She gets that out, at least.

“Your favorite song of all time,” Niall smiles, dimple prominent. “What is it?”

Looking back, Lu has no idea where the sudden confidence comes from. But, somehow, it does. She smiles, tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Not sure I want to tell you yet,” she says, kind. “I want to see if you figure it out for yourself.” 

####

taglist: @missy14us @coconutdawn @ficnarry @okaaayniall @theresnooneheretosave @niallgolden @tinyfelthat @adoremp3 @thelifeofbo @crocodileniall @niallsguitarthings 

Join the tag list here.

[trueromantic1]

The Myth of Me and You Is Fiction Turned To Truth

Summary: After the events of both seasons (SVU 22x16 and OC 1x08), Olivia and Elliot find themselves in the unique position of knowing where there love story will end up, but having no idea what exactly will transpire to get them there. One thing they do know? Their love can only grow deeper, and that they’re bound to enjoy the journey.

Author’s Note: For the purposes of this story, SVU 22x16 ended on May 28 (canon) and OC 1x08 ended on June 4 (not canon). This picks up on June 7.

Title comes from Great Ones by Maren Morris. It’s definitely an EO song.

Rating: M, possibly Explicit eventually

ff.net: here

AO3: here

Her phone beeped, drawing her distracted gaze away from the paperwork in front of her. Seeing the text message notification lighting up the screen, Olivia took off her glasses and put her pen down, picked up the phone, and leaned back in her chair with a sigh as she unlocked it.

Can I buy you dinner? There’s news.

She frowned, trying to tell his mood from those few words. Realizing it would be impossible, she glanced out at the nearly empty squad room before hitting the call button instead.

“You didn’t have to call. I know you’re at work still Liv.” Judging by the voices she could hear in the background, he was still at work as well. She knew they’d been dealing with the lawyers and IAB ever since Morales turned out to be a mole and decided suicide by cop was the best way out.

“It’s fine El. I needed a break from the paperwork for a minute anyway. The one thing they never prepare you for is just how much paperwork you do when you’re in charge of a squad. So, what’s going on?”

He chuckled, and she could hear the creak as he leaned back in his own chair. “That’s what dinner is supposed to be for Liv. If I tell you now, what would be the point of dinner?”

She smiled, recognizing his tone as the slightly flirty one she’d been hearing more of ever since what was supposed to be Fin’s wedding. Neither one of them was ready to jump into a relationship, but they’d come to a silent understanding that night by the water. “I don’t know Elliot. We’ve never needed a reason for dinner before. Why don’t you just tell me the news now, and then you can come over to my place later and we’ll get Chinese. Noah’s taking advantage of it being summer vacation and is at a sleepover so his friend’s mom can take them to an early show of a ballet she worked on costumes for. Apparently, they allow friends and family to come for free on Tuesdays, but it’s normally during the school day.”

“Oh, I bet he’s excited. Sleepover during the week and going to a professional ballet performance?”

“Yes, he’s thrilled. It’s all he talked about all weekend. Now quit stalling Elliot. What’s going on?”

“I never could get one by you, could I? Okay. Well, Angela Wheatley woke up earlier today, and is expected to make a full recovery. Bell and Washburn went over to the hospital once they cleared her for visitors. And we’re finally supposed to be done dealing with IAB and the lawyers over this. We still have to wait for IAB’s official report, but I got the feeling none of us were going to get in trouble for what happened. They told Bell they’d already spoken to you as well, so you should be done with them for now too. And then on a more personal note, you remember I told you I was looking at apartments in the city? At Fin’s not-wedding and then that I had some more appointments the rest of that weekend? Well, I found one, and I went down and signed the lease today during lunch.”

“El, I’m glad things are working out with the case, and that IAB will be out of all of our hair. It’s still bothering me what exactly Richard Wheatley was planning with that fake text sending me to the hospital. But I guess we won’t know unless he decided to tell us. But way to bury the lead! El, that’s great! I can’t believe you found a place in just a week. You didn’t just settle for something did you? You need a good place for you and Eli to make a home.” She knew he’d been anxious about getting out of the one bedroom short-term he’d rented after Kathy’s death, so she hoped he’d taken his time to find something he really liked.

“It’s nice, knowing you worry about us. And thanks. Don’t worry, it’s actually a great place. Rent’s a little higher than I’d planned, but I can make it work. It’s about halfway between here and the one six actually. About two blocks from the school Eli will be going to, assuming they’re back to in person by then. And it’s a three bedroom two and a half bath, which I figure will come in handy if any of the kids decide to visit and don’t want to drive home ever. And it’s near a park, in case anyone else wanted to visit. I take possession this Sunday, and Bell gave me Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday off so I can get some stuff moved in. I’ve got some furniture scheduled for delivery on Monday.” The calm she’d been hearing more and more in the last few weeks shone through, which she knew was at least in part because he’d finally started talking to someone. But she thought a lot of it had to do with settling back into the city, since he’d confided that as much as they’d been happy in Italy, the energy had just never been exactly right to him.

“I’ll always worry El, you know that. I’m glad though. Now you and Eli have all summer to get settled in. Hopefully he’ll meet some of his future classmates, so he won’t fell so new when school starts back up. And you know, it just so happens, I might know someone who could come help you get things set up. You know, if you were interested.” She made sure to infuse her voice with a hint of suggestion, upping the playful flirting they’d been indulging in just a bit. She mentally patted herself on the back when she heard the hitch in his breath followed him clearing his throat. His next words, voice lowered and with a hint of a growl, proved he hadn’t lost a step either, as she felt herself flush with arousal and a corresponding dampness between her thighs that she was fast becoming reacquainted with that caused her to cross her legs and shift in her seat to try to alleviate the pressure.

“Is that so? Well, far be it from me to turn down someone willing to work up a sweat with me. Why don’t we discuss it more over dinner? I should be able to be to your place by 7, if that works for you.”

She checked the time, then the stack of papers she needed to finish, then glanced into the squad room. Seeing her people were now at their desks, folders open in front of them, she quickly calculated it’d be at least another hour before she could even think of leaving, especially if she planned to take three days off next week. “Make it 8?”

“8 it is. Want me to pick up our usual on my way over, or are we having it delivered?”

“Hmm, better pick it up. You know how busy they get. If you call it in when you leave, it’ll probably be just about ready by the time you get there.”

“Sound good. I’ll let you go so you can finish up all that paperwork. See you in a few hours Liv.”

“Alright. Bye El.” Hanging up, she pressed the phone against her chest a moment, savoring the warm feeling she always seemed to get when she talked to Elliot these days, before standing up and walking out into the squad room.

“Anything you guys haven’t finished by 7, you can leave until tomorrow. Short of a new case, you can all clock out then, since we’re currently between cases.” She turned to head back to her office and the stack of paperwork, but turned back around when Amanda spoke.

“Are you clocking out then too Cap? I know Noah’s at that sleepover. You shouldn’t stay late finishing paperwork anymore if we aren’t.” Her detective’s voice was concerned, and she realized just how much her stress and worry over the last three months must have shown, despite how hard she tried to hide it.

“Yes, he’s already called me to say goodnight, because apparently they will be too busy the rest of the night with sleepover stuff to worry about me. But don’t worry, I’m clocking out then too. Even if that pile of paperwork is only going to grow when you all turn in your paperwork.” She turned again, hoping to make it into her office before anyone thought too hard about her clocking out when she didn’t have to, but Fin’s teasing voice told her she was too late.

“You? Clock out early when you don’t have Noah waiting at home? What’s up? You got yourself a hot date or something?”

She was a Captain. Had been a police officer for over twenty years. She’d had to keep her cool when being questioned on the stand by lawyers all the time. But she knew, she knew, that she couldn’t hide the hitch in her step or the slight wince as he asked his question. Even as she turned back around, her face carefully blank, she knew he’d caught her. “Date? No, I don’t have a date. Who would I even have a date with?” Internally, she winced again as she heard a voice that sounded suspiciously like Elliot Stabler tell her that asking that many questions just made her sound defensive, and therefore all the more suspicious. Registering the varying degrees of shock on the three’s faces, she smirked to herself for surprising them at least.

“Oh, I don’t know. A certain Detective, maybe? I saw you two together at the ceremony, off in your own little world by the water. Almost like old times, ‘cept the flirting was a little too obvious.”

Trying to control the embarrassed flush she could feel, she internally cursed. She’d hoped everyone had been too preoccupied to pay attention to her and Elliot, but knew that had probably been too much to hope for. She knew the rumor mill had picked right back up when he’d returned, and people realized they were talking again. “Alright, yes, I’m meeting Elliot for dinner. But it’s not a date. We’re just going to do some catching up over Chinese. We haven’t really had much time to just talk since he came back.” She ignored the pointed look he shot her, and appreciated that Amanda and Kat at least pretended not to be interested, as she finally made it back into her office. She heard his footsteps though, saw him shut the door behind him as she sat down behind her desk.

“You sure about this? I just don’t want you getting hurt. Don’t forget, I was here when he left.” She could see the worry clouding his face, and resigned to give him the truth. After all, he’d been there for it all.

“I’m sure. We’re…Taking things slow. We’ve talked, and while neither one of us is ready to just jump straight into a relationship, we’ve discussed it, and have agreed that’s where we’re heading. So we flirt some, and we spend time together, and we talk. We’re not defining it yet. I know it sounds like dating, and maybe in a way it is. But what’s important to us is rekindling our friendship, first and foremost. We’ve already talked about why he left, how he left. And I’ve told him not only what it did to me, but I’ve told him what he missed. He was…Devastated. It turns out the whole family was in France at the time, and by the time the kids came back, it had already become old news. He swore he would have come back had he known, and I believe him. I’d always wondered if he’d just stopped caring, but if you’d seen how he looked, you’d have had to believe him too. So yes, I’m sure about this. We’re going to take things slow for now, but we know where we’re going to end up, even if we aren’t sure when that will happen. Speaking of Elliot though, I’m going to take a few personal days next week to help him get moved into his new place. He gets the keys on Sunday, and his furniture comes Monday.”

He still looked a little worried, but she could tell he would take her at her word. “If you say so. I have to say, I’m surprised you guys already talked about that. But I’m glad. You deserve to be happy Liv, and I think he’ll make you happy. And don’t worry, I’ll cover next week for you. And I’ll let the others know you’ll be taking some time, and make sure they don’t ask you any questions.” He turned and left the office, leaving the door open behind him as he went back to his desk, stopping to talk to Amanda and Kat on his way.

Putting her glasses on and picking up her pen, she smiled to herself as she went back to her paperwork. She still had a lot to work through before it was time to head out, though she was hoping the anticipation would make the time pass faster. Afterall, it wasn’t every day she got to head home to a hot meal and an even hotter man, not that she’d tell him that. His ego was already inflated enough.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

It Wasn’t in the Contract: One

Bucky stood in front of the window and looked down at the street below. It was another busy city morning. People milled about on the side walk. Cars jammed the street. And it was his. 

He had the city in his pocket. He owned Judges, Lawyers, Cops, Journalists... Nothing could touch his operation. After almost a decade of building his team. Building his empire. He was making money hand over fist. More than he could ever spend in a life time. 

But what he needed right now, he couldn’t buy.

He needed a wedding date.

And not just any date. He needed you. 

Because somehow, in the last decade, he’d neglected to tell his ma, and his sisters that you’d left. That he’d let his ambition get in the way. And that when he’d hurt you, left you cold and lonely one too many times, you’d gone. Set yourself up in Paris. And now, he knew he was in too deep. He couldn’t back pedal now. He had to get you to come with him. Or he’d never live it down.

His Ma, he knew had an inkling. Hell. By now she probably knew. And knew everything. But he’d be damned if he was gonna sit through any lectures the week of Becca’s wedding. He just. He wanted the week to be nice. And if he was honest... After 9 years apart, after watching your career flourish at a distance. After watching you do everything you set out to do... He wanted to see you. Tell you he missed you. 

Because after 9 years, the problem with everyone he ever dated was simple. They. Weren’t. You. When they looked up at him in the afterglow, snuggling into his chest, it didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel like home. And god. Did he want to go home. Even if it was just to say ‘hello’.

_________

The flight to Paris had been long. But, at least first class had come with Wi-fi. And alcohol. It had made it so that, at the very least, he’d managed to sleep a little. So by the time he was in his hotel and had his bag unpack he was... Well frankly he was getting nervous. 

He knew that it was probably bullshit. The feeling in his chest that told him, beyond a shadow of a doubt that you were somewhere in the city. That if he looked out over his /balcony you’d be right there. Waiting for him. Looking for him too. 

And he laughed at himself a little. If you heard him  say it out loud, you would probably have laughed at him too. You were never the romantic type. Not really. You were too practical and grounded for that. Romantic movies bored you to tears. Sappy, sentimental family movies were even worse. “Life isn’t like the movies.”

You’d told him that once during an argument. Right before the break up. When all you’d done was argue. Bucky had told you he wanted a baby. You’d told him that you wanted to finish school. That you wanted to get designs onto shelves. That you wouldn’t have time to take care of a baby AND start your shop. Bucky had said that he’d help you. And even when it first came out he knew it was a lie. He was trying to keep himself and his crew out of jail and make enough money to pay off his dad’s debts. He didn’t have time for a baby either. But it sounded good. And if it had been a movie you would have melted into his arms. It would have been fine. 

But it hadn’t been. No matter how much he wanted it to be. Because he hadn’t wanted to work. He hadn’t wanted to try and be the man you needed him to be. He’d been a dumb kid. A kid with a dream, sure. But a dumb kid none the less. And as he stood in front of your door, a bouquet of white roses in his hand, he couldn’t breathe. 

He knew there was a little gray at his temples. And in his bead when he didn’t stay clean shaven. And that maybe was wasn’t quite as trim as he’d been. But you? He’d seen pictures of you in articles. Even with all the photo magic photoshop shit, you still looked incredible. Maybe a little softer somehow. And the last of the puppy fat that had clung on to you for so long had finally melted away into some more mature features but...

That wasn’t the face that greeted him. 

The door swung open, a blast of cool, lavender and sage scented air hitting him in the face. And there was no doe eyed beauty staring at him in surprise. 

There was nothing but empty space and a glimpse of some yellow walls and polished wood floors. 

“Who are you?” 

The voice made him look down. And staring up at him was a kid. An 8-ish year old kid. With your eyes and a thick, unruly, mop of dark curls. Bucky can’t speak for a second. 

“I- I- I think I have the wrong address,” he managed after a second. 

The kid just shrugged and said, “Okay.” Swinging the door shut with a finality that made his head spin and his ears ring. 

He stood there for a long moment. Clutching the roses in his fist. And he felt sick. A kid. Was it his kid? How had you not told him? How had he not known? Nat-.

The thought stopped him dead in his tracks and scowling he turned, loping down your front steps and jerking his phone out of his pocket.

“Romanoff,” 

“She has a fucking kid, Natasha,” he growled, taking a deep breath to keep from screaming as he shoved the flowers into a trash bin. 

“Yeah, and?” she said, just barely managing to not sound surprised that he knew.

“How long have you known?” he said accusingly.

“Since she got the positive test,” she said calmly, “Shit. I was in the delivery room with her.”

“But-”

“We all knew. And no. Nicco isn’t yours. His dad is an Italian Model Y/N took a long weekend with a few years ago.” She says all of this calmly. As if the rug wasn’t ripped out from under him. As if he wasn’t struggling to breathe. He didn’t understand why. 

Why you wouldn’t have a baby with him but some random model knocked you up and now all of a sudden what? You wanted to play house? “They still together?” he asked, swallowing hard.

“Oh. God no,” Nat snorted, “He wanted fuck all to do with the kid. Y/N had him sign his rights away AT the hospital about 4 hours after he was born... I go visit a couple times a year... And we all tend to drop by when she comes state side.”

“Why did no one fucking tell me!” he exploded finally. 

“She asked us not too, Buck.” she murmured.

He hung up after that, shoving his phone in his pocket and turning to trudge up the street. He needed alcohol. A lot of it. And he needed to plan his next move.

__________

You half listen for your son’s footsteps in the hall and sneak a little peak at the page of his journal, rolling your eyes fondly. It’s a revised Birthday list, looks like. And like it has been since he was old enough to write it out, it was mostly clothes. 

At the top of the list, of course, was a new pair of boots (with heels please). You can hear it in his prim little voice and it makes you smile. Your little fashionista. He loved looking nice. And it was a constant source of contention that you refused to let him model. At least out side of little fun shoots at your studio. 

“Who was at the door, dearest?” you ask, smiling.

“Mom!” he scolded, “Don’t look at my list! It’s so last month.”

“Nicco,” you chuckle, “You just updated it yesterday.”

“No,” he corrected, “I thought about updating it yesterday... Can I have a pair of pumps?”

You make a soft thoughtful noise, “Yes,” you answer finally, “But not for school.”

“Mom-”

“I don’t want you spraining an ankle. Or damaging your feet,” you explain, “I know- I know. Wedges are terribly passe but. You’re not going to like needing your knees replaced when you’re my age.”

“Ew.”

“Exactly,” you hum, ruffling his hair, “Who was at the door?”

“Oh!” he said, crossing something off his list, “Some guy in a suit. Said he got the wrong address.” 

You nod, turning back to preparing dinner, “What should we have for dessert?” you muse out loud, already eyeing the box of brownie mix in the cupboard. 

“Brownies?” Nicco said, giving you his biggest, saddest eyes. His dimples appearing in his cheeks as he tried not to grin at you. A look that made you just melt. And one you can’t say no to. Even if you should.

You sigh, “Fine,” you tut, “But I’m not paying you to tell me I’m pretty when I get fat.”

“Mom,” he huffed, “You won’t have to pay me to tell you that.” And you really did melt then, kissing him on the cheek s you went to retrieve a mixing bowl.

“I mean,” he added, “If you do pay me I might tell you more often though.” 

And you can’t help it. You laugh. 

[terreisa]

Love Down the Line: Epilogue

The last thing Indie musician Emma Swan needs is a gigantic wrench thrown in the workings of her biggest tour to date weeks before its launch.  When her backing guitarist that caused the problem says she has the perfect solution Emma is skeptical but left with little choice but to accept.  Unfortunately she isn’t really prepared for said solution to be former Rock Star and leading man of Emma’s teenage fantasies, Killian Jones.  With no other options and a month of performing across the country ahead of her Emma just hopes she doesn’t come to regret letting Killian onto her stage and into her life.

Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, Ch 8, Ch 9, Ch 10, Ch 11, Ch 12, AO3

~*CS*~

Los Angeles, Three Years Later

“You know, the last time I was here they only gave me those itty bitty bottles of water.”

Killian laughed to himself but kept his eyes trained to his phone.  He knew if he looked up the love of his life would be scowling at the unnecessarily large bottles of expensive water lined up along the counter of the green room they were waiting in.  Emma Swan was prone to many wonderful things but graciously giving up on a grudge was not one of them.

“The last time you were here you hadn’t won five Grammys in one fell swoop.  When I was doing the first interviews with Realm of Jewels we were lucky to get cups of tap water.  We thought a slice of lemon was the height of luxury.”

“Yeah, well that was what?  Three hundred years ago?” She teased, moving across the room to flop down beside him on the couch with a huff, “They should at least have a water cooler or something.  Reusable bottles are the way of the future.”

“First you complain about the water they’re providing and now you’re complaining about the one their not?  Can they do nothing to please you?”

He looked over at her with a raised brow and she gave him a smirk.

“They fired Walsh so that’s a step in the right direction.”

“Thank bloody fuck,” he growled, turning back to his phone with a scowl.

Emma had eventually told him the full extent of what had happened the day of her interview with Walsh Hoakley.  Not only had the wanker reported gossip as though it were truth, which caused the brief falling out between him and Emma that had made them both miserable, but the berk had hit on her not ten minutes after.  When she finally had told him, only a few days after they had reconciled, it had taken an hour for him to calm down and at least a week for her to convince him not to fight her battles for her.  The news of Hoakley’s firing less than a year later had been celebrated with a sparkling cider toast.

“So-” Emma peered over his shoulder and he felt some of his tension melt away, “What’s got you paying more attention to your phone than the expensive goodies they’re trying to get on our good side with?”

With a snort he tilted his phone towards her, “Just going over the contract one last time.”

“We have a fancy lawyer for that don’t we?” She asked crossing her arms as she sat back, “And Ruby wouldn’t try to scam you.  I mean, look what’s happened since she decided to become my manager instead of staying in my backing band.”

“Well, aside from those five Grammys I mentioned-”

“What?!” Emma’s brows shot up and her mouth dropped open in clearly feigned shock, “I won five Grammys?  I had no idea!”

“Hush, love, you deserved them and I’m honored to brag on your behalf,” he chided though he gave her a wink, “Although, I don’t rightly think we can give Ruby the credit for that.”

She scoffed and burrowed further into the couch, “If she hadn’t forced me to let you audition then we wouldn’t have met.  Then we wouldn’t have had our grand romance that in turn inspired In the Middlemist and I wouldn’t have won those Grammys.”

“I believe that we would have met eventually, love.  If not through our careers then we would have certainly been invited to Ruby’s wedding where I would have been immediately smitten with the blonde in the crimson bridesmaid dress,” he said lowly, pleased to see her cheeks flush.

“And I probably would have freaked out even more meeting you for the first time there than at the studio.  You know how much I like seeing you in a suit-” she said huskily, leaning up to press a soft kiss under his jaw.  Then she sat back and smiled wide, “Even then Ruby would still be the reason we met.  That’s why I dedicated it to her and not you.”

“Is that why?  I thought it was because you were still upset with me over the tiny misunderstanding over your choice in vehicle.”

He gave her a knowing look and she glared right back at him.  When he raised his brow in challenge she rolled her eyes at him.

“Fine, that was part of it,” she conceded, “But I did mention you in every acceptance speech.”

“Which was wonderful aside from the camera they kept shoving in my face to capture my every proud tear in HD,” he grumbled, remembering the repeated messages from Will that were just the GIF of him crying after Emma had said she loved him onstage holding her third award of the night.  He blew out a breath, “As I was saying: aside from all that I will admit that your career has flourished under Ruby’s care.  She has become quite the adversary of Regina, stealing her best clients away.”

“Regina’s over it now,” she dismissed with a wave of her hand, “Ever since you reintroduced her to Robin in a non-business setting and then moved to that corner office things have been great.”

Just as he was about to make a somewhat lewd comment as to exactly why both those things would put Regina in a good mood there was a knock on the door.  It was opened a moment later by the intern that had initially led them there.

“They’re ready for you, if you’d like to follow me.”

He let Emma proceed him as he stowed his phone in his pocket.  She was right, of course, Ruby wouldn’t dream of sneaking in last minute changes to the contract making her his new manager.  If anything she would have been fine with a verbal agreement and the promise of making her the godmother of whatever child he and Emma might have.  Unfortunately all of their fancy, and expensive, lawyers required things in writing and in triplicate.

The intern led them to a broadcasting studio that looked like every other one he’d ever been interviewed in.  One glaring difference, however, was the radio host who squealed when she saw them and practically skipped towards them with open arms.

“Finally, you guys!  I’ve been waiting all week for this!”

Emma laughed and accepted the hug easily, “Us too, Tink.  Killian’s had it marked in all of our calendars the second Ruby booked it.”

Tink pulled back from Emma and gave him a wide smile, “I’d heard she finally got you to make it official.  There’s no stopping her now.”

“As though there was a chance before,” he chuckled. “Lovely to see you again, TInk.”

“If you guys lived here I’d see you more,” she chided gently before stepping forward to wrap her arms around him, “Everyone’s still on for dinner tomorrow, right?”

“Of course, Will wouldn’t let us hear the end of it if we didn’t,” he scoffed, giving her a light squeeze before letting go.

“Great!  I still can’t believe he ditched Emma to be in your band,” She said with a laugh, grinning broadly at Emma’s frown.  Something over his shoulder caught her eye and she nodded before focusing back on them, “Alright, my producer’s about to throw a fit if we waste any more time.  Go ahead and get settled while I do my thing.”

As he and Emma moved to the seats awaiting them Tink bounced over to her chair and donned her headphones.  With a bit of awe and intimidation he watched Tink easily slip into performance mode, softening her accent and dialing up her enthusiasm as she introduced herself and the start of her broadcast block.  She hadn’t been a DJ for long but he could clearly see she had found her calling.  When she teased their interview she gave them an overexaggerated wink that had him stifling a laugh.

After two songs and a small promo of Enchanted’s other stations Tink gave them a thumbs up as her producer let them know that their mics were live.

“That was the latest from The Killers and I don’t know about you but I’m more than ready for their new album to be released.  I’m Tink and this is Rock Alt, home to all the alternative rock hits here on Enchanted XM.  Today is a very exciting day because in the studio with me, right this very moment, are two people that you should be very familiar with: five time Grammy winner and indie darling Emma Swan and two time Grammy winner and alt rock god Killian Jones.  Once upon a time I toured with Emma as part of her backing band and on one of those more memorable tours Killian decided to join us.  Welcome, welcome!”

“I can truthfully say we’re excited to be here,” Emma chimed in brightly, her grin wide and happy.

“Yes, thanks for having us, love,” Killian said warmly. “Though I feel it’s only right to mention that those two Grammys were won with Realm of Jewels.”

“Aw, it’s only a matter of time before they’ll be joined by plenty of others, especially with this new album-” Tink waggled her eyebrows and he had a feeling she wasn’t going to go easy on them just because she was their friend. “There’s no question that you two are more than just friendly collaborators, with a couple of writing credits on each other’s albums and a duet on Killian’s acoustic cover album of Realm of Jewels’ greatest hits.  We’ve also seen the red carpet photos and Instagram glimpses of your romance.”

He looked over at Emma and received an eye roll in return.  When they’d first truly started dating they’d kept it hidden from anyone that wasn’t close friends or family.  They had both felt that they wanted to start their relationship without the hounding from the press and scrutiny from the gossip mongers.  It wasn’t until nearly a year and a half later, when Emma had clearly been his date to American Music Awards, that they’d gone public.  Even then they had both agreed that they’d keep their personal lives as private as possible and continued to do so.  Including the fact that they’d been married for two years.

“But now you’ve released a surprise album as a duo,” Tink continued, “going by the name Charles & Leia, which also happens to be the title of the album.  It’s amazing by the way and if any of you out there haven’t listened to it yet I suggest you do so, but only after this interview is over, of course.  So, how did this come about and why Charles & Leia?”

Emma gave him a shrug and a nod and he leaned closer to his mic, “As you mentioned earlier we’ve been playing together for some time now.  After that tour I was a part of we were both starting on our next albums and would often work through arrangements or fine tune lyrics, using the other as a sounding board.  This has, as evidenced, continued through the years until one day we thought we might try our hands at creating a whole album together.”

“We didn’t want it to be an album of my songs featuring him or vice versa though,” Emma chimed in. “Then it would have just been the same thing we’d already been doing which would have been fun but kinda boring at the same time.  We wanted to challenge ourselves to create something new together from the beginning.  Luckily our label was open to the idea and let us run with it.”

“And the name?” Tink prodded.

“A bit of an inside joke, really,” he said with a chuckle, reaching over to clasp Emma’s hand in his, “Whenever we made reservations or had to give a name for whatever reason I used Charles and Emma used Leia.  I don’t even remember why-”

Emma snorted, “When he made the reservations for our first date and they asked for a name he panicked.  We’d been watching The Crown and he blurted out the name Charles.  At least he didn’t completely lose his shit and say Elizabeth.”

Emma’s eyes widened at the curse and clapped her hands over her mouth.  Tink waved her hand in dismissal.  Not a moment later the producer let them know through their headphones that cursing was fine but to keep it to a minimum if possible.

“Anyway,” Emma said evenly, though her cheeks were pink, “When it was my turn to make reservations I kept it going.  Princess Leia was my hero when I was a kid.  Still is actually.”

“As she is for us all,” Killian jumped in, “Of course we no longer use those as our aliases but when we were trying to decide how we wanted to present ourselves for this album this seemed appropriate.”

“We also figured it would give people the chance to listen to the songs without already having an idea of what they thought it should sound like because they knew it was us,” Emma explained, “I mean, it’s not like we’re trying to deceive anyone or anything but a lot of times people don’t try something out because they think they know exactly what it’s going to be.  I know I’m totally guilty of it sometimes.”

“I’ve been listening to the album non-stop since it came out last week and you’re absolutely right, if I hadn’t already known that it was you two I wouldn’t have even been able to guess.  Now, I’ve played alongside both of you and have been a fan of each of your music since both of your beginnings and I have to say, Charles & Leia is nothing like the music you’ve released before.  What would you say were the biggest influences on how you approached the creation of this album?”

Killian took a moment to consider Tink’s question.  He immediately dismissed sharing the long convoluted answer that began with innocent questions about one another’s past that led to a months long search into the mystery of Emma’s beginnings that came up empty while he nearly spiralled out of control once more over the unhealed pain of his borderline abusive and neglectful father.  They were still working through some of those issues in therapy and even with the personal nature of the songs they’d written he didn’t feel it was necessary to elaborate on what the lyrics already implied.

“I can’t speak for Emma but for me it’s a look to the past and what influence it has on the present and the future.  Take the title track for instance, my mother was Irish so I looked to the old Celtic folk songs and the instruments used, mimicking the flow of the music before playing around with more modern sounds.  The result was entirely unique but still felt familiar, like an auditory deja vu, if you will.”

Tink was nodding furiously while Emma rolled her eyes at him, “I definitely won’t be that eloquent but yeah, we both have things in our past that sometimes takes a toll on who we are today.  Our music was already pretty personal.  I mean, I’ve written songs about growing up in foster care or when I was in jail but this was something else.  Every day when we finished recording whatever song we were working on I felt like I’d been turned inside out and then wrung out but in a good way?  It makes no sense but I’ve also never been this proud of one of my albums.”

“Well you should both be damn proud!  I may be the tad bit biased but I think this may be the best album to come out this year and we’re only halfway through,” Tink effused.

“Thank you lass,” he mumbled as he scratched behind his ear at the compliment.

He caught Emma’s eye and she gave him an indulgent smile.  She was well aware that sincere praise always tended to discomfit him, as he felt he was undeserving of it, especially when it came from someone he knew well.  It was something he was working on getting better at accepting, with her help of course.

“Since the album was a surprise release there hasn’t been any confirmation of a tour yet.  Any chance we’ll be seeing you two taking this act on the road?”

“We’re doing a kind of a mini tour on the east coast and then a couple of dates out here,” Emma explained, her eyes sparkling, “We didn’t want to get too ahead of ourselves and book a bunch of dates and then not have anyone show up.”

“I doubt that will be a problem,” Tink dismissed with a bright laugh, “From what I’ve been told nearly every show is sold out.  So if any of you listeners out there want to see Emma and Killian perform songs from this brilliant new album I’d say don’t wait to buy your tickets.  I already have mine.

“Now, I know this album is only weeks old and you both have flourishing solo careers but I have to ask: can we expect even bigger things from you two in the future?”

With a smile he had no hope of quelling he gave Emma a wink, though he was reasonably sure that it was nowhere near subtle.  It didn’t matter though, as no one had a clue what it could mean since she had only shown him the positive pregnancy test earlier that morning.  Emma gave him a beaming grin of her own and he kept his eyes on her as he spoke into his mic.

“I think you can, Tink.  In fact, I’m quite certain that this is merely the happy beginning of grand things to come.”

[thebooki3h]

Harry Potter x Draco Idea

It’s years after the war. Harry is the DADA professor at Hogwarts. both to teach students because he loves it and to help students in ways that adults could not help him. He is head of the DADA club as well as the Wizarding world 101 club for those who grew up with muggles so they can better acclimate to the wizarding world. Hermione helped him set up that last one)

the DADA club is pretty self explanatory. harry teaches defense spells and those spells rank by skill not by year. he also teaches hand to hand defense because one day you many not have magic. (he emphasizes this part for the girls. he's been to the clubs and he hates how girls can be treated) he also emphasizes prevention. he talks about how to prevent another dark lord.

some days they don’t even practice defense they just talk about what bother them. those days can be sad. but their nice. ( that reminds him he should talk to Hermione about setting up mental health clinics muggles have those and his therapist has been very helpful)

Harry and ginny broke up shortly after the war because as much as they loved each other, they just weren’t right for one another. 

Ginny becomes a famous quidditch player

Hermione becomes a Wizard lawyer. so she can put laws in place that would help prevent another dark lord from rising 

she also has plans to tackle the treatment of magical creatures. (Dobby and lupin haunt her and visit her nightmares often) but there's only so much that one can do in a year and she does not want to repeat 3 year

She pushes for laws that protect children so no one has to go through what tom riddle or harry went through

she also moves for primary school for wizarding children so they get to socialize with others and learn about the muggle world and their science. 

Hermione becomes minister of magic and incorporates muggle ideas like foster care and child protective services into the wizarding world because after she saw how Harry she could never in good conscious let other children go through that

Ron started auror training and became an auror for a few years because it is what helped him cope with Freds death. But after all of the death eaters were given trials and sentenced, he retired from the force and partnered with George to help expand the Weasleys Wizard Wheezes. 

He even opens up a partner store in the muggle world. (getting their toys and pranks to work without magic was tough but it really helped bond them together.) It’s what Fred would have wanted anyway.

and ron and Hermione are still together because the war made them closer and when they were apart 7th year it was awful, but they don't get married no matter how much Molly wants them to. they’re in their 20s and they still have time

Luna is a well respect reporter. The Quibbler is now the Wizarding worlds most trusted news source. (especially after Rita skeeter was arrested for defamation of character) (something Hermione presided over with pride)

she is also the only reporter that any of the students at Hogwarts in Harrys year will speak to. Most other student who attended the school while harry was there (especially after seeing what happened to him during 4th year) will only speak to her anyway. but it is not as hard a rule especially if they didn't really interact with harry.

Harry formally adopted Teddy when he was 6 years old. Teddy had been living with harry since he was 1 and a half because Andromeda couldn’t take care of him anymore. but he wanted Teddy to give him permission first.

Harry makes sure to tell Teddy all about his birth parents and about how much they loved him and about how much Harry love them.

the day Teddy called harry dad. harry most definitely did not cry in for an hour after teddy left for primary school

Teddy lives with harry in the castle during the school year. ( because where else would he live. all of the other professors lie in the castle. and harry may or may not be very paranoid about something happening to teddy, but that is something he talks about with his mind healer and not you so shut up)

Draco goes to school to become a potions master so he can work at St mungos and help people.

he still feels guilty about the war and about how he treated others during his Hogwarts years. he quickly learns that no one wants to be healed by him. he looks like his father more and more every year.

he hates that he has done all of those awful things. but he is making up for them! it takes the public awhile to see it but the glares aren’t as bad anymore.

but his fathers actions haunt him. and he wants to separate himself from his father as much as possible. so he does the unthinkable and dies his hair.

at first he uses spells but he finds the muggle way soothing.

he eventually gets a job at Hogwarts when he is 24 as the potions master. (bc let’s be honest Slughorn was a temporary solution at best he was NOT supposed to be at Hogwarts this long)

it is at this point where he meets teddy. Teddy roams the halls and visits classes from time to time. so long as he does not disturb any of the teachers that is

he gets excited when he sees a teacher with bright purple hair. (he thinks he found another Metamorphmagus. so he follows them to their classroom. he’s never seen them before and he wants to get to know them)

Draco is shocked to see a small child in his class, but he was warned about teddy so he kept his infamous Malfoy mask on to hide his surprise 

teddy is obviously disappointed that Draco isn’t a Metamorphmagus like him, but he asks Draco all about his hair and how he got it like that. Teddy’s hair may or may not match dracos for the next week, but he’ll deny it if you ask him.

teddy sits through all of dracos classes for that week as well. he does is school work and tries not to disrupt. (mcgonagall was very helpful in teaching teddy proper manners (so he didn’t take after his uncles George and Ron) so he knows when to be on his best behavior. )

uncles George and Ron may or may not send him Weasleys wizard wheezes every month. His uncle George also taught him how to pull off a prank and not get caught (especially by auntie Minnie)

even though auntie Minnie taught him manners sometimes he’ll get really excited and pull a Hermione and ask raise his hand to as a bunch of questions (because he is not old enough to do anything practical yet)

Draco answers all of teddy’s questions. (they are surprisingly good for an 8 year old so of course he does) he even mentions that his students could take a page out of Teddys book. (he hopes they don’t ask questions because that is not always encouraged, not because they are afraid of him)

the students had heard rumors about Draco from their parents, so they were a little afraid of him. they though that he would be like professor Snape. instead he is more like mcgonagall. he expects that his students respect that magic can be dangerous and that he is there to help. but he is also firmly kind. he never yells, only scolds. (and that is only when you do something that could have hurt someone)

harry hears a rumor that the new potions teacher is, as his 6th year students put it, H O T. he knows that it is someone from his years at Hogwarts, but he wasn’t really paying attention all that much. (he likes to get as much time with his son as possible)

speaking of his son, he hasn’t seen him in his class as normal. Teddy is usually in their rooms, in his classroom or with Minnie. (mcgonagall insists that he call her that. yes, it is very weird) teddy isn’t allowed in the greenhouses with Neville anymore after than sneezing incident.

So during one of his free periods ( that are usually reserved for helping teddy with math bc Hermione insists because “math is very important Harry!”) he takes out the marauders map and looks for his son. (completely missing Draco’s name because duh)

he finally finds him in the dungeons and he spots the new potions master teaching about sleeping draught and its properties to 3rd years. he is mesmerize by the (now midnight blue) hair. he doesn’t immediately recognize Malfoy bc the blonde hair is gone. 

he just sits next to teddy (who is attempting to take notes like the other students, but is really just drawing stick figures with potions and random ingredients written down)

once the class files out teddy goes to introduce his dad to his new favorite professor (sorry aunt Minnie). once they realize who the other one is it’s kind of awkward bc they haven’t seen each other since harry spoke for him and his mother to exonerate them and give Draco back his wand.

but they bond over teddy and how well teddy seems to do in dracos class (even though he is 8) and thus began the weekly visits and lunches. 

eventually teddy has to stop going to dracos class because they have begun brewing potions, and we don't want a repeat of what happened in the greenhouses. this really bummed teddy out so he insisted that they eat lunch together.

harry and Draco find themselves still eating lunch together, even when teddy has gone to nana molly’s house for the week to visit his cousins.

they already talked to each other in the halls once they had reconnected, but after that lunch without teddy they start having dinner in each others rooms instead

harry introduces Draco to something he calls movies and Draco talks about all of the wizarding pop culture harry never seems to understand

soon these nightly hangouts happen more than once a week. it has gotten to the point where Draco and harry have fallen asleep on Harrys couch in his living room on more than one occasion. 

most of these hangout happen in Harrys rooms bc he is still a little paranoid

then right around Christmas time Hermione asks harry to speak at a fundraiser for something or another and it is last minute because the other speaker had to cancel “ I know it’s last minute harry, but you know I wouldn’t ask if I had another choice”

Harry doesn’t want to ask Molly because she has so much to do to prep for Christmas and he doesn’t want to be a burden, so would Draco pretty please watch teddy for the night. Harry will be home really late and he is so sorry that this is last minute and of course you can’t watch him and I’m sorry I shouldn’t have asked

and Draco loves teddy so of course he’ll watch him! it will be like a sleep over won’t it teddy.

draco is shocked that harry would trust him with teddy for the night because of his past  and he is freaking out inside but its fine and he is not going to mess this up he is not going to mess this up.

and harry goes and he os not as worried as he thinks he is but he is still worried bc parenthood y’know and he really doesn’t like going to these things because he is so over being the boy who lived twice and he just wants to go home a snuggle with draco and talk about movies while teddy is showing them how he can change his eye color now

and then it hits him that he included draco in the scenario and how long has he been doing that for. and then he finds out that he really doesn’t mind that and how long has he thought about draco being in his life and should he ask draco out he most definitely should ask him out

and draco going through the same thing but with working about teddy and knowing that harry really hates going to those galas and how he did too when he was a child and how much better it would be if they had gone together him harry and teddy

harry proceeds to panic about this new revelation to Hermione because she is always so easy to talk to and she always knows what to do and Ron isn’t there because he hates those galas almost as much as harry

Hermione proceeds to tell harry to just ask him out already you already trust him with teddy and you talk about him all the time in your letters and even Ron has noticed and he avoids talking about feelings as much as he can

so harry decides he is going to ask draco out 

(draco is already invited to weasley Christmas and has a sweater already made bc mama weasley don't mess around)

the next day when harry goes to pick teddy up he doesn’t know what to say and neither does draco and then they blurt it out at the same time and start rambling (Bc that’s always cute) and then they get really quiet

and then teddy says finally bc he made a bet with his uncle George (bc uncle George always helps him with new pranks and he is so awesome and easy to talk to)  and a couple other students about when harry and draco are going to ask each other out on a date 

(and he doesn’t really know what that means but auntie Minnie says its when you want to hold hands and you love each other very much but not like brothers but like best friends but more. he tried to get her to explain but she said that was his dad’s job)

and draco and harry are both shocked bc teddy knew? and if it’s ok with teddy then why not give it a go. 

then Christmas passes with everyone getting a new sweater (draco should really re-introduce his mum and Molly because they would get on like a house on fire with how much they love their kids and his mum could use a friend)

and the school year finishes with harry and draco becoming known as the cute professors how visit each others classes with gifts and hold hands when they think no one is looking

and draco spends most of his summer at 12 Grimmauld place ( harry spent the better part of a month renovating that house so it would be more modern and safe for teddy)

he also removed a lot of the dark artifacts and placed them in a vault at gringotts so he can study them later. the ones he deemed to be containable and somewhat mild he took for his upper year classes so they would know how to deal with those artifacts

and draco is basically moved into harry’s rooms by the end of the summer and he doesn’t notice until the school year comes around again and he has to pack and he finds that his flat in muggle London (yes he moved there. Hermione recommended it after the trials and he is so grateful to her because that really helped him break down all that he had been taught by his father)

but draco waits to see if harry says anything and harry does but harry takes to long so he says something, but its not the question he was expecting. he was expecting more of a well aren’t you moved in already sort of response when all harry said was you are welcome to be here and I love that you are here I just didn’t want to push you and I know you like having your own space

and draco is confused, but harry explains that their relationship is still new and he didn’t want to push anything unnaturally so he let draco set the pace because he loves him and he figured there was no harm in draco still having his flat because if he needed time it made sense

this whole conversation led to one about communication about needs and boundaries because harry has trouble with that still from the Dursley's and from the war and draco has trouble with feelings bc of his father and this whole thing just makes them stronger

they make the move in official but draco keeps the flat because it is still nice to stay in muggle London and harry doesn’t disagree.

and they also agree that draco should keep his rooms at Hogwarts just so that the students don’t get distracted by the professors living together even if they are together and boy is it nice to say that

also that way if draco needs to work on things for his potions class they can still keep teddy safe

and teddy still calls harry dad because harry raised him but he calls draco dray like his father does and that feels just as good as dad to draco. he doesn't expect anything like that from teddy because he became a father figure to him so late in his life and dray makes him feel so loved in a way he has never felt before

and their relationship only gets stronger as the years pass and eventually they do get married (it’s the summer after teddy’s 1st year and he couldn’t be happier) 

teddy moving out of harry’s rooms and into the Hufflepuff tower was a weird transition for all of them, but it was comforting to know that he could go talk to his dads whenever he wants

and he thinks of draco as his dad at this point but calling him anything other than dray would be weird and dray feels as good as calling harry dad so why change it

that year draco moved into Harrys rooms permanently and left his other rooms for good. (the happy couple still go there sometimes since it is attached to dracos office and they get up to shenanigans there bc teddy doesn’t ever go into those rooms like he does with the ones he grew up in)

and in teddy’s first year everyone is like wow those are your dads? and he is like yea they’re cool and they were in the war but I have seen them dancing with a mop and a dustpan and they’re really not that cool you guys 

and once teddy starts making his way up through Hogwarts the war seems so far away and the students come in with the stories they’ve heard from their parents about the great Harry Potter and dastardly Draco Malfoy and then like a 2 weeks into term they’re like these dudes are total nerds and super in love with each other and its adorable

then the Weasley kids start filtering through Hogwarts and harry and draco are in their 30s. teddy wanted to go to muggle university (which he can totally get into because Hermione is a real one lemme tell you)

also you’re gonna tell me she DIDN’T teach teddy all of the muggle curriculum he would need to know to get into college bc let’s be real Hogwarts wasn’t a challenge bc he’d been there his whole life so he def graduated early and still lived there with harry and draco while Hermione got him muggle books

also in their free time harry Hermione and draco definitely figured out how to get wifi in Hogwarts ( how would they live without their rom coms) in like a weekend

and George became the new charms teacher after flitwick retired and the students love him and his satires of pranks with his brothers

and in his spare time he still comes up with jokes for the joke shop and he even lets his students submit their attempts for items for the shop for extra credit (this eventually turns into an end of year assignment for each grade and former students of George love seeing their names on the tags for the toys in the joke shop)

and Ron who has a knack for business (who knew?) expands the WWW empire and he already has shops in America and he is thinking about expanding into Asia but he still needs to look into that market

but teddy goes to college and harry and draco keep living their lives and revolutionizing Hogwarts with Minnie (draco is still stunned she insisted that he call her that) they keep integrating muggle ideas, and it is easier in Hogwarts because the children are much more open to change

and now they are in their 40s and Hogwarts has a whole new branch of the school where children between the ages 5 and 10 can come in and learn about muggles and magic and math and science and why there is a giant squid in the lake

harry and draco are now a staple in Hogwarts like Dumbledore was but so much better bc they would never let kids return to abusive homes and they’re known for being so approachable and willing to help anyone with their problems

the students start calling them the dads of Hogwarts (teddy insists he didn’t start that but he totally did with George and Ron’s help)

and the name sticks and they not so secretly love it

and the war becomes a distant memory

until students start acting really strange and harry and draco think it is just them until George and Minnie and Neville come to them with concerns and they don’t know what is happening and as much as harry loves draco he knows he needs to call Hermione and Ron (Ron still will not touch a phone and if draco can use one why can’t he, but he insists) 

he calls them because the last time he was this scared in Hogwarts they were there and he is a Grown Man but suddenly he feels like he just left the Dursley's again 

draco calls his mother and he calls pansy and Blaise because they were there when he had to deal with his father planning and plotting and wanting Voldemort to return and they know what he felt like and he is a Grown Man but he feels as if he will never get his fathers approval even though he hasn’t needed that in years (and he doesn’t want it) 

the word spread about harry calling for his best friends and draco doing the same and if they are doing that then they must be scared

(they are so very tired of being afraid and so very tired of fighting)

but the must protect their students

so Molly (even though she is not as young as when her children went to Hogwarts her grandchildren do and she’ll be damned if anything ever happens to her family) arrives too with the weasley clan as ready as ever and Seamus and dean and even Oliver Wood (who is a world renown former quidditch player and even more famous coach)

when teddy gets there for his dad and dray they are suddenly so much more worried because he is their life, but he is an adult now and he is here for them

when their former students arrive harry definitely starts to cry (draco didn’t because malfoys don’t cry in public in front of their former students even if he didn’t really believe that now it was nice to hold onto to help keep some of his composure) and their students tell them that they are here now to help, to fight and that they shouldn’t have to fight anymore but if they must 

their students say that Harry and Draco did such a good job and helped the wizarding world, helped them so much, and we know professor potter that we must be kind to others because no one deserves what tom riddle went through even if Voldemort was awful.

professor potter we know that you taught us that defense should only be used in protection and we should always be mindful and we are here to protect you

and professor Malfoy you were so kind to us and you were understanding and you encouraged our questions and you taught us to be curious and to never be satisfied with something at face value. you taught us to explore and we are here

and it feels like the war again but better because they are all on the same side and what ever this is harry doesn’t have to hide under the invisibility cloak and draco doesn't have to hide in the room of requirement and this new thing? this new thing that threatens the life they have made together their family? their friends? their students? it suddenly it seems so small because with the support they have nothing can ever beat them because Dumbledore is gone Voldemort is dead and they did their best to help those kids age be damned

There is so much more that I would love to add to this, and I could but I should get back to homework, unfortunately. I just had a thought and had to write it down. I would also like to turn it into a fic but time escapes me

If for some reason someone sees this and they want to make it into an actual full blown fic, please tag me bc I would live to read it.

I might come up with a part two, who knows

[bibliophileiz]

8 months and 3-4 elaborate fix-it daydreams later and i have come to the conclusion that the following is the best post-finale scenario for Supernatural:

Dean gets bored and breaks out of heaven like jensen said. (did jensen say that or was that just a tumblr rumor? either way it’s a good idea). He wanders around the ghostly plane or whatever and bumps into Benny and they’re like, “purgatory, amirite?” and then Dean remembers he left a DAUGHTER in purgatory and he’s like, “Oh shit.” 

So he uses his ghostly-given physic powers (may be getting away from established lore a bit here, just bear with me) to send a message to Patience, maybe in a dream or something, and gives her instructions for how a hunter, say Eileen, could get into purgatory by paying off a rogue reaper. So Patience wakes up and fills Eileen in, and even though Eileen is pissed that Dean’s dumb brother decided to drop off the face of the planet after locking up a secret bunker full of magical knowledge that like, maybe everyone else could have used?? she agrees to help Dean and his daughter, because she and Dean got along fine. Meanwhile, Dean and Benny both drop down into purgatory to find Emma.

So then Eileen drops into purgatory where Emma’s waiting for her because her dad filled her in on what’s up, and she hitches a magic soul ride on Eileen’s arm and gets brought back to life, yay! They become pals and Eileen tells her about the resurrection spell that brought her back from Hell, and Emma’s like, “resurrection spell, you say?”

So then she finds out Sam’s become a boring corporate lawyer under the name Sam Springsteen or something and dresses up in leather and goes to his office and gives him this sob story about how her uncle cheated her out of her inheritance and also shot her one time, and can he please help her? Sam totally doesn’t recognize a girl he shot once in the back like 10 years ago, but his spidey senses are tingling because like, this story sounds kind of familiar??? But he agrees to help anyway because, despite how mean and sarcastic i’m gonna be about him in this post, he’s a good person deep down.

anywho, when Sam agrees to help her, Emma gives him this big hug while also stealing his wallet, which she then uses to find his new boring suburban house with the blurry wife who isn’t home because she has a job, RIGHT DABB? So Emma breaks in and cracks this safe where Sam keeps his supernatural stuff stashed, because the combination is Dean’s birthday, and she steals the resurrection spell, the key to the bunker, the samulet and the keys to the Impala. She goes into Sam’s garage, whips the tarp off baby, and opens the garage door just as sam’s rounding the corner in his new boring car wondering what happened to his wallet, just in time to see Emma drive the impala out of his garage blasting “Highway to Hell” at full volume with her middle finger out the window.

then Emma goes to a creepy warehouse to use the samulet to summon dean’s spirit and resurrection spell to bring him back, which she figures will work this one time because her dad and his boyfriend killed Death and the reapers haven’t gotten their shit together long enough to close the newly-opened loophole with the spell. So Dean is back and uses the key to get back into the bunker and figure out how to get into the Empty. And he also calls Sam and apologizes for his daughter’s theatrics, but Sam doesn’t think he sounds very sorry.

In conclusion, i don’t see any problems with this plot, but if you’ve spotted some, I invite you to consider that this daydream of mine involves leather-clad Emma flipping Sam off from the Impala while listening to AC/DC and also fewer plotholes than the finale.

[rosesvioletshardy]

life as we know it - b.h. prologue

okay this is my first ben fic and i’m sorry if it’s not as good as others so yeah

also this is sort of based off of the movie with the same title but it’s a lot different when it comes to some of the chapters.

this is also going to start off in 2016 and i haven’t decided if it’s also going to take place in present time but it’s going to be built up over the years

*note: i am american and i don’t know that much about england or the uk in general so i will try my best and research and make sure things are accurate. i also imagined lennon as hayley williams and christian as robert pattinson

also another note i’m really sorry if it’s terrible i haven’t really written a fanfic in a long time and i’m trying to get back into it rather than just reading it 

masterlist

summary: when their two best friends die, it’s up to ben and y/n to take care of their goddaughter and face the challenges that come with it

# of words: 2029 

warnings: none really

(not proofread) 

February 2016 

there were better things y/n could be doing on a saturday night which included watching netflix, drinking wine, and cleaning. this saturday night wasn't going to be that way for her. Now she was getting ready for a date her best friend lennon set her up on. lennon and y/n  have been best friends since they can remember and they've had their ups and downs but now since they're adults they deal with it like adults should. 

lennon worked as an elementary teacher and her boyfriend christian worked as a lawyer and a successful one too, at least he wasn't one of the stuck up ones and was just one just trying to help people out. when lennon found out y/n had broken up with her boyfriend of 2 years and spent months not going out and trying to find someone new or getting laid, she told christian because she thought christian's best friend ben, would be a great guy for her. 

now here she was, in her bedroom of her tiny apartment getting ready for a blind date she wasn't entirely too excited for, but she knew she had to go out someday for the sake of lennon

"when i said that i owe you one, this isn't exactly what i meant you know" y/n said to lennon as she strapped on her heels before picking her phone back up and taking it off speaker 

"yes, but when was the last time you went on a date, and i'm talking like a real date and one that didn't involve staying indoors and not getting laid?" lennon told y/n  knowing that she was right since the last time she went on a date was the night she found out her ex cheated on her while she waited at a restaurant alone.

it's not like her ex was that bad, it's just he didn't put enough into their relationship in order to make any of them that happy. y/n knew her best friend was right and she didn't want to disappoint her since it was christian's friend lennon was setting her up with. ben wasn't a bad guy from what lennon gathered off of christian and y/n wasn't a bad girl. they both had great paying jobs, they're both good looking and they both love their best friends and their own families.

from what y/n gathered, ben was an actor and was soon to star in more things since leaving EastEnders. she never really watched the show because she didn’t understand the hype about the soap opera even though she had been living in the uk since she was 20. her grandparents on the other hand did enjoy it so she would see it every now and then before she moved out from their house.

"you know i hate it when you're right, right?'' y/n told her as she took another look in the mirror and checking her makeup making sure nothing is messed up too badly

"and also he's 45 minutes late. i thought you said he was punctual." she added as she looked at the clock in her living room

"okay those were christian's words not mine, and don't worry maybe he had something quick to do before coming over?" lennon said hoping that she was right

"Yeah, maybe. I don't know maybe it's just the nerves talking. I mean, I don't really know him as a person but I have seen a few of his stuff so hopefully he's like what people have described him as." y/n said taking one last look in the mirror before hearing her doorbell ring

"okay i think he's here. got to go, and i'll talk you later about how it goes" she said

"tell me everything and don't leave out a single thing. i mean it. love you!" lennon told her

"love you too."

as soon as y/n hung up, she took a deep breath and walked over to her door to see ben

"he's not bad looking in real life" she thought

but the only thing that was throwing her off was for the fact that he was an hour late and wearing jeans and a t-shirt. completely opposite of what she had on, which was a little fancier

"are you y/n? lennon's best friend and the one her and christian set up on a date with me?" ben asked as the two awkwardly stood there

"yeah i am. you must be ben then. it's nice to finally meet you." y/n asked trying hard not to blush

"am i late?" he then asked. 

he really needed to ask you that wow

"only by an hour, but who's keeping time, i was just finishing up." she said

"oh okay."

the two stood there for a few more minutes before finally deciding to leave. y/n locked up her apartment before turning back to him and leaving. as the two walked through the complex to the parking lot, y/n decided to spark up a conversation

"so, how long have you known christian?" she curiously asked

"um, we've been friends since we were kids, 10, i think, after we got into a fight over the stupidest thing" ben laugh at the memory

"really? what was it? if you don't mind me asking." 

"it was over the last copy of a cd at a record store. they almost ended up kicking us out until the stock guy brought out more copies." ben said smiling before reaching for the gate and opening it for y/n

"i've known lennon since we were 8 and we've been irreplaceable ever since. where's your car?" y/n asked looking around and not seeing one

"right here" ben told her pointing to the motorcycle

"oh" she said with a shock on her face 

"here you go." ben said while handing her a helmet into her hands

"c'mon, it doesn't bite." he continued when he saw her still standing there 

"i'm just not really dressed for 40 mile an hour-" y/n started as she tried to talk over the engine of the bike in front of her

"what" ben asked then cutting the engine off

"i'm not dressed for 40 mile an hour winds. i'm sorry" she said before continuing

"i don't think i could get my leg up over it in this dress. but my car is right there and it's new and i do love driving it." she finished pointing to the small red car  "wow, um. okay." ben said completely shocked at the tiny car hoping it'll be able to fit the two adults

y/n unlocked her car and got right into the driver's seat, whilst ben opened the passengers door and got in, looking around and hoping that no one would see them. as he got in he immediately regretted not taking his car and taking his bike instead and now he was cramped into a tiny car he wasn't even sure was meant for more than one person

"okay. um, where are we going?" ben asked her

"i thought you said you were going to make reservations?" y/n asked as she looked into his green eyes

"oh" ben said as the color drained from face forgetting to do the one thing he said he was going to

"you didn't make them?" she questioned him confused

"i said that?" ben answered her knowing damn well he was supposed to do that

"it's fine. it's fine really. whatever" y/n said sitting there not knowing what to do now

"well we can go somewhere else. you can pick wherever you want." ben asked her thinking that it'll solve everything

"um, we can go to cafe five? my friend from culinary school actually the-" y/n began to talk before she got interrupted from ben's phone ringing

"i'm really sorry"

"no it's okay, go ahead. you can answer it if you-" she said before ben talked again

"no, no, it's fine. i'll let it go to voicemail." ben told her all attention going back to her

"like i was saying. my friend from culinary school is actually the-" y/n tried to say but ben's phone just kept ringing

"you know, just answer it. i can wait" she told him already getting annoyed but not showing it 

ben whispers a slight "sorry" and pulled his phone out from his back pocket

"hey. well you know me. i'm always in the middle of something, always busy. 11? yeah, okay. i'll be there. wait actually, let's make it 10:30." ben said whispering the last part thinking that she wouldn't hear him

"okay. seen you later then. bye" ben finished and he hung up and put his phone back into his pocket. he turns to her and begins to talk again

"i'm really sorry about that. it's um, it's a sick friend. sorry." ben told her, completely lying his ass off 

"you know, we...we don't have to do this"

"really?" ben questioned as she gave a slight chuckle

"okay." he continued as he started to unbuckle his seat belt and get ready to leave the car

"oh my god. are you serious?" y/n asked not believing what was happening

"let's be honest adults here. you knew the moment you saw me, you didn't like me."

"no, but our mutual friends set this up, so i think that we owe it to them to-" y/n said before ben interrupted her

"to what?" he asked

"spend a few hours faking small talk? look, the best case for us is that we get drunk and possibly hook up." he finished

"what kind of an asshole are you? whenever lennon and christian talked about you, they always made it seem like you were this super nice and sweet guy. but i guess i thought wrong." she said not believing him over what he's doing at the moment

"look it's a saturday night. i just want to have some fun before i end up going back to film something. i can go see my sick friend and you can go do whatever it is you like to do on a saturday night." ben told her hesitating on that last sentence about his "sick" friend

"you can go read a book? you look like you read books" ben continued

y/n looked at him and was shocked, mad that he would say something like that. "maybe all men are pieces of shit" she thought, except for christian because she saw the way he looked and loved lennon like she was the only person in the world

"okay. if you wanted to ensure that this wasn't gonna be a lousy night, here's a tip- don't show up an hour late, and don't take a booty call in front of me." she basically yelled at him

"she's sick" ben argued back

"oh, yes. were you going to heal her with your magic penis?" y/n asked tired of his shit already

"okay. fine. if you want to go out and have some dinner-"

"oh my god, i can't believe what i'm hearing right now. i'm not going to go out with you now! are you crazy?!" she said as she took the key out of the ignition and getting out of her car

"and get out of my car." she finished

"i have no idea what lennon and christian were thinking. i don't know what i was thinking."

"yeah me neither" ben agreed 

as y/n was walking back to her apartment, and ben starting up his bike again, she called lennon

"y/n! that was quick, did everything go alright? are you going to get some?" lennon asked praying everything worked out alright

"no. he got a booty call right in front of me and was acting like a dick. the only way you are going to make this up for me is if you promise that i never have to see him again.

"you know that won't be possible. how about i come over to yours and we'll spend it together?" 

"fine" she said 

for ben on the other hand, he called christian and told him the exact same thing y//n told lennon, but little did they know it was never going to happen.

[joshslater]

The Reformatory

A rewrite of jd07201990′s swimmer story. Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

T -1

Dear diary or however you are supposed to start.

So tomorrow is the big day. Dad and I are sleeping at a Holiday Inn at the other side of the state. Well, I'm obviously not sleeping. How could I? So I thought I should start a journal of some sort to document this experience.

Some background. Two months ago I was in a fight with Mark Samberg on the football team. It had gotten pretty bad between the football schmucks and us swimmers. The jockheads were constantly harassing us, calling us fags and prissy boys. It happened often and was getting boring. As the captain of the swim team I asked Mark to knock it off and get his players in line. Idiot as he is he tried to knock me out instead, and I lost it. In our scramble I managed to knock him down and was about to kick him in the shin when he shifted and instead I connected with his knee. Apparently it fractured. He'll be able to walk and even run, but he'll not be able to play again for years, so he lost his Scholarship.

His family sued everyone they could. Me, the school, the swim coach. In the end all the lawyers sat down in a room with a local judge and came up with something they all could agree to. Mark gets some study assistance to get his grades up, the school had this quickly brushed under the carpet, and could pretend I was never student there. Me not graduating wasn’t really a blow, as my college fund now went to pay for Mark’s education, as compensation. They were rich enough to afford it anyway, but they wanted to see punishment. I get the honor to spend the next 180 days at the Lepinski Adolescence Reformation Center, where I will "participate in all scheduled exercises, activities, therapies, meals and medication programs". They can tack on some extra days for bad behavior without going back to the judge, but essentially I get 6 months at bad boy camp for standing up to bullies.

What will I do there? No idea. The website talks a lot about work ethics and responsibility and working together with the local community. Sounds like labor camp to me. I'll guess we'll know tomorrow. But first we have to visit the hospital for a check up. My first day in prison will mostly not be in prison!

Day 1, Monday

We started with a checkup at the hospital, and man did they do a thorough job. Our appointment was at 10, but before that I had to fill out a form with 100 questions. The doctor spent more than 30 minutes doing the most extensive check I've ever had. Not only that, but after the check we had to go to the sample lab to draw blood, and finally I had a CT scan at noon. After that, and a quick lunch, we drove to the actual reformation center, which was in a smaller town 2 hours away.

It's an old boarding school building that they've turned into this "Reformation Center", and it clearly looks more like a prison than a school. Just a heap of two story brick and concrete buildings out in nowhere. Not much of security, but then everyone was there "voluntarily", meaning that we all had a proper punishment waiting for us if we left. I hugged dad goodbye and was shown to Mr. Kerwin’s office by the entrance guard.

Mr. Kerwin was a lean, ripped man in his forties that oozed military discipline. He explained that he was responsible for my rehabilitation and that he wouldn't start soft. He would give me a packed schedule, and if I didn't pull my weight he would add more days for "noncompliance". If I didn't like it I could run back to judge Stephenson and ask to start over in juvie.

Perhaps that would be better, because the schedule he showed me was totally insane.

4:30-5:00  Breakfast 5:00-8:00  Exercise pass 1 8:00-12:00 Work pass 1 12:00-12:30 Lunch 12:30-14:30 School 14:30-17:30 Work pass 2 17:30-18:00 Dinner 18:00-21:00 Exercise pass 2 21:30       Lights out

He explained that my breakfast, lunch and dinner would be pre-portioned and I was required to eat all of it. The exercise passes would be lead by himself or one of the assistants. Again, I would have to follow every instruction. The work passes were done at local businesses that wanted an extra hand, and changed depending on demand. The school passes were done as a group on whatever subject Mr. Reed selected.

Next he ordered me to get naked and place all my clothes on top of my bag and move to the other side of the room. Having done so he pointed at a stack of clothes on the table and told me to pick my size and get dressed. I quickly dressed in one of the track suits from the table. There was a baseball cap also, which confused me, but was told that it was instead of sunglasses when working outdoor.

With that I was given a rule book to study and was led by an assistant to my room where a dinner was waiting. Turkey, rice, water. I was reminded of lights out at 21:30 and wake up at 4:30. The assistant left and locked the door. 10 minutes later he came back with my journal book and pen, and told me that they'll keep the rest for now.

Having eaten the dinner and having three hours (I'm almost sure 21:30 is 9:30 PM) to kill before the lights go out I'm now summarizing the day. I'm sitting in something very similar to a prison cell. Bed, toilet, sink. Everything is clean, though somewhat worn. Looking into the mirror is kind of depressing though. I look like some jailed gang member.

It's kind of weird that I haven't met any of the other inmates, sorry students, here. I saw some of them while coming in, but perhaps this is their kind of hazing, or they do an official presentation tomorrow. Anyway, I should study the rule book and go to bed, since I didn't sleep much last night.

Day 2, Tuesday

So much to write about, so little time. I might have to split this into several entries since lights out is in 20 minutes.

I was awaken at 4:30 and given a tray with a large bowl of porridge and berries and some chalky smoothie or shake or whatever to drink. After that an assistant lead me to the gym room where we went over various machines, mainly for cardio. Elliptical, bike, treadmill. Weird thing was that it was only us two in the room during all three hours.

Sweaty and a bit tired I was then taken outside to a bus where some of the other boys where chilling. Apparently everyone else had breakfast between 7 and 8. They had no idea why I didn't join them there. The bus then drove around town and the driver announced who should exit where. My group of four people exited at a farm before town, only about 5 minutes away. I don't know exactly since I haven't been given my watch back.

There we spent hours just moving hay. Don't they know about tractors? Sweaty, itchy, tired and hungry we were then picked up and driven back. At lunch was the first time I saw the real common area. To my surprise there were more boys there than had been on the bus.

Everyone else could pick what they wanted from what was served, but I was given a ready tray with an heap of salmon and pasta. I was starving though, so it wasn't a problem to eat it all. I didn't have much time to talk, but the guys at my table were nice. Somewhat rough, as could be expected. Apparently you were chosen for the different work assignments, and if you were not picked you stayed at the center for sports or craft or similar things.

After Lunch followed a session with Mr. Reed. The first boring hour was on English grammar and the second boring hour on US geography. I aced the quizz getting all 50 states and state capitols right, so I didn't learn anything new after that. Then Mr. Reed announced who had work assignments, and I was again selected.

This time I and Troy were dropped off at a different farm where we spent almost three hours helping with fencing. Mainly carry posts and sawing them to length.

For dinner I had some meatballs with roasted sweet potatoes while everyone else had meatballs with tomato sauce. Mr. Kerwin picked me up and led me to the gym. Unlike the morning session this was all about weight training. Most of it was on finding my limits for different exercises while Mr. Kerwin pointed out how I could improve my form. You could tell that this was what he liked to do, and encouraged me to push a bit further. Once we were done I had a bottle of post workout mix of some sort and a very quick shower before rushing back to my room.

Here's the thing. My room is on a different floor than the other guys. Also, my schedule appears to be different and much more rigid than the rest of the guys. I also

Day 3, Wednesday

I couldn't finish the last entry before they cut the light. My entire body is in pain right now. I woke up like that, and it didn't go away all day. Same schedule as yesterday, but different tasks and different dishes. The assistant really pushed today during the morning session, so I was exhausted already at the bus. Planting bushes at the city park all morning didn't help. I got some rest during Reeds rehash of elementary math. Then back to doing fences, and top it all off with weight training. I asked Mr. Kerwin about the schedule and why it was so different from everyone else’s. He said that everyone's schedule is individual and that he'll adjust mine as needed.

One more weird thing before I fall to sleep. Everyone else is using their normal clothes. I haven't gotten mine back yet.

Day 4, Thursday

FUCK! I was back on moving hay today again, with Sam, Trevor and Rick. I'm still hurting like hell and Rick is one lazy motherfucker, so old fart Farmer Joe decided to complain. The end result is that I am getting 2 days added for noncompliance. Sam, Trevor and Rick got nothing. WTF!

Day 5, Friday

We were carrying merchandise all morning and Troy heckled me on how I got more days because of the piece of shit Rick. But he then said that it was a weird coincidence that every work shift I've been on has been the toughest one.

Instead of going to class I met with the doctor from the hospital who made a visit. He asked me about how I felt, where I was sore etc. Then he gave me an injection which he said would ease things for me. I didn't feel much different, but I was getting really sleepy getting back to Mr. Reeds class, but it might just be that everything he did was too simple and boring.

Apparently while I had a check up Troy had shared his theory about me being a work magnet, so there were some groans from the guys placed in my group. God damn fence work again.

Man, I'm tired. I was tired even before Mr. Kerwin gave me the toughest weight pass ever. Fuck, I'm tired.

Day 6, Saturday

So the weekend schedule is different. There is still a morning work pass, basically only used by the local farmers. But the afternoon is free both on Saturdays and Sundays. Conditions and terms applies, apparently. Since I haven't done any cleaning or dishes all week (how could I?), I'm assigned washing clothes, sheets etc. Man, how much better it is to carry laundry than hay. Best job assignment all week. Lots of downtime. Only real drawback is all the humidity. It’s steamy AF here.

Still fucking 3h workout pass in the morning and evening. The other boys were pretty vocal in mocking me on my way to the gym.

Day 7, Sunday

So the day started out as any other so far. Woke up sore. Breakfast alone and 3 hour gym session. There are no work passes outside LARC on Sundays, so I was hit with cleaning, together with Kyle G. and Rick. Rick ghosted after like three minutes, but KG did a solid work. It took us all the time til lunch though to finish it.

Then my first free couple of hours all week. It’s insane. The other guys were low key avoiding me, so I did what Mr. Kerwin had suggested and had a walk in the forest. It was actually kind of nice, and for some weird reason I didn’t feel like sitting still.

Day 8, Monday

Same shit again. Mr. Kerwin gave me a shot in the arm this evening. Apparently I’ll have one each Monday from now on. Whatever.

Also I found out today that the others don’t have formal lights out. I’m on my own floor so they can lock me up and cut the power. What the fuck?

Day 9, Tuesday

That fucker Rick slacked off again, taunting me about another two days. Ha! I got 10. Mostly for kicking him in the teeth. They locked me in my room, so I had lunch there and sat in this boring ass cell during class and work. Fuck, I don’t know what’s worse. I had to do some body weight exercises to keep sane. Fuck this shit.

Back again. I still got to have my evening workout. Kerwin was pushing harder than ever. The order of exercises was different too. Apparently to make the major muscles tired so smaller muscle groups then get to work. Or something. I don’t give a shit.

Day 11, Thursday

They fucking work now, don’t they the little shits. They know I ruined someones career to get here and another one for slacking off. They better pull there weight

Day 14, Sunday

I think I’ll stick to just write on Sundays. There is only half an hour from evening gym to lights out, so there isn’t much time for writing. I’ve even skipped shower a few times. It’s not like it matters when you start every fucking day getting soaked with cardio. Not like there are any girls around to impress either. Sunday has a different vibe tho. Cleaning, running in the forest and taking a long shower.

Starts and ends with fucking gym time though.

Day 21, Sunday

I really fucking like the forest runs. Its like you don’t have to think and can just run wherever and grab whatever and smash whatever. Fucking love it

Day 28, Sunday

Yay! A full fucking month!

It’s crazy though how much stronger I’m. I have gone up one size larger track suite and 2 sizes larger sneakers. Working hard to make me the best I guess.

Day 42, Sunday

guess i forgot about writing last week. i think the monday shots make me angry or something because last week fucked up someone else on tuesday. at least they all give me fucking respect at least.

Day 92, Monday

i dont give a shit abot reeds borin ass lessons and they fuckin repeat on a loop or some shit. today he was back on gramr and the states. i most time dont fill out his shit but wanted to do it again today. fucking aced most of the states. not so good on the capitols tho

Day 203, Sunday

only 2 weeks left tomorrow lol then im gonna yeet the fuck outta here !!!! adios motherfuckas

Mr. Kerwin enters the room, carrying a folder, and walks behind his desk, not even looking at me. I am sitting in his precious fucking antique chair I pulled from the corner. He’s sitting his ass down, rifles through the papers in the folder and starts to read from one of them.

“John Hamlin agrees to 180 days of rehabilitation training at the Lepinski Adolescence Reformation Center, where he will participate in all scheduled exercises, activities, therapies, meals and medication programs, with a possible extension of 30 days for noncompliance and a possible extension of 60 days for infractions as described by the Juvenile Rehabilitation Act (JuRA), section 1103 (b).”

He looks up at me. It sounded like easy shit when I said yes to it. I thought half a year in a bad boy summer camp, or worst case something like prison, but that would have been miles better than this fucking non-stop hard labor shit. And 180 days was a fucking joke. They never fucking intended that to be the actual time. Have someone else slack off and the slap another 2 days to the time. Kick a chair to pieces, 5 days. Punch a guy for being a cunt, 10 days. I’m close to having another fucking outburst again. It must be all that fucking shit they put in the food or shakes or whatever. I fight it. I don’t want to show any emotion in front of him. I don’t think he buys my shit.

“There is another document in the agreement that you haven’t heard. This one between Mark and judge Andrews.”

He pulls out another paper from the folder and read it.

“The state hereby directs Mark Samberg, or person(s) by him so designated, to design and oversee the rehabilitation program of John Hamlin to be administrated at the Lepinski Adolescence Reformation Center. This includes physical exercises, physical therapy, education, consoling, dietary plan and medication, as long as it fulfills the positive development criteria (Appendix D), is within the available services at the Lepinski Adolescence Reformation Center (Appendix A) and within the given budget (Appendix C). Additional services require external financing and approval from the Reformation Center management (Appendix B).”

That doesn’t make any fucking sense. Why the hell had the judge put Mark in charge of my schedule? I understand why he’d want to make the experience suck as much as fucking possible for me, by why had everyone agreed to it? Kerwin looks at me as if he can read an open book.

“You are wondering what has happened to you. What was the meaning of all this? Stand up.”

I jump to my feet. There are still weeks he can add to my time here, and I don’t want to give him any fucking reason to add some shit.

“Stand with your feet as close together as you can.”

He’s never asked me to do that before. I can easily tap me feet together, but I can’t really stand still with my feet right next to each other for long. What the fuck is this bullshit? My thighs are too massive for that.

“Sit down again.”

He leans back and watches me with a bemused smirk.

“Imagine that you’d been away from swimming half a year. Even if you kept in shape it would take you months to be back in good enough technique to clear the swim team tryouts. But you have not kept in shape, have you? You have a completely new shape.”

The blood is draining from my face. I understand where this is going.

“With your upper body build you can physically really only do butterfly strokes properly, but if you can’t bring your feet together the leg kick will just be a wild thrashing of water. You swimming medley would be a hilarious joke. We haven’t even talked about you almost doubling in weight, and how much more oxygen you would need to swim. Sure, you are much stronger now, but old you would swim circles around new you. And that is of course the point. If Mark couldn’t have his sports career, he didn’t want you to have yours either. And the judge agreed.”

I’m surprised that the chair doesn’t break, as hard as I’m squeezing it. I’m boiling with fucking rage. I have to really focus to not to act on it.

“Now the judge specifically set out that this transformation couldn’t be punishment in itself, but rather that you were trained in a way that just wasn’t optimal for swimming. We may have gone a bit overboard with the body building to leave you many options though. You’ll obviously never be competitive in anything with speed or agility, like football or boxing. The metabolic conditioning, hormone treatment and gene therapy have far to long lasting effects to change you back from where you are now. You could try wrestling or weight lifting though, unless you mind showing your erection through spandex.”

“What the fuck?”, I said, as much as a general question to all the things he’d said. What does metabolic conditioning mean? Gene therapy? Erections?

“The medical regimen that Marks family found for you kind of put the feet on both the gas and the break at the same time. It forces the body to grow a lot at the same time as we try to stop it, so it has to try even harder. By injecting stem cells with the right CRISPR-modified DNA we could get rapid, major and long lasting changes. Well, I say we, but all I did was to make sure you kept to the exercise regimen, for a little cash on the side… Surely you didn’t think you got larger feet and dick from eating much and working hard?”

I don’t understand exactly what they done to me, but the result is pretty fucking clear. There was no way I would swim competitively ever again, if I could even fucking swim at all now. I would come out of here looking like a fucking balloon animal muscle jock, and shedding the muscles back to where I were would take shitloads of years.

“The hormone treatment finished two weeks ago and last blood sample shows that your natural hormone levels will keep you muscled and pumped probably well into your forties. So this morning I also cut you off from all suppressive medication as well. That is going to spike your hormone levels and mess quite a bit with you, so we need to see just how badly fucked up you are before we can release you.”

“The good doctor say that you’ll be more irritable and have more excess energy than before. Both something you can work on with regular, hard exercise. But I want to see where you really are at now, so starting today you’ll have no required gym time and labor passes. You can wake up when you want, eat what you want and do what you want.”

“You said erections?”, I asked.

“Yeah, the suppression medication should have kept you limp. You haven’t jacked off while here, have you? Well, you heard what I said about gas and break and compensation. Your body has been pumping massive amounts of hormones into your blood, and will continue to do so. But now that you don’t have the suppressives anymore you should expect to be horny for the next decade or two. You’ll be nothing but a lumbering muscle dildo.”

There’s a crack somewhere inside the wood of the armrest. Fucking fourteen more days, I have to remind myself. Don’t fuck any shit up before then. If I let go of the chair I’m quite positive I will knock him the fuck out. Fourteen fucking more shit days.