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fluffy-marshmallow-heart · 4 years ago

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My Sister’s Best Friend- ch 34

The Elementalists au

Beckett x Oriana

Words: 1920

Series Master List

Complete Master List

Warnings: Slightly NSFW. Most of it is fluff.

Katrina Harrington is only two years older than her younger brother Beckett. Her best friend, Oriana Miller, is practically part of the family. After spending one year abroad, Katrina and Oriana return home, and Beckett finds himself enchanted by the red-haired beauty. Something changed between them while she was gone and now that’s she’s back, can he summon the courage to tell her how he’s truly felt all these years, or will she continue to only be his sister’s best friend?

It had been a wonderful couple of days with Oriana and her parents. This is how Beckett always pictured what the holidays should be like; warm, inviting, full of laughter and smiles. Now, it’s Christmas Eve, and Beckett can barely contain his excitement to give Oriana her gift. He’s not sure if he should give it to her now, or wait until the morning. He doesn’t know how she’s going to react to it. It’s nothing fancy, in fact, it’s fairly simple, but there’s a lot of meaning in it.

As they get ready for bed, Beckett sits on her bed awkwardly. When she came back from showering and brushing her teeth, her eyebrows furrowed as she took in the sight of him.

“Are you okay?”

“I think so.” He nodded.

“Okaaaaaay. Well, the shower’s open if you want to hop in.”

“I was wondering if we should exchange gifts tonight. You know, in case you don’t like what I got you, I won’t have to be humiliated in front of your parents.” He rushed out.

“What, did you get me a thong or something?” Oriana laughed as his ears grew hot.

“No, no, nothing like that. But it’s um…it’s…personal.” He squeaked out.

She sits next to him on the bed. “Gotta say you’re freaking me out a bit. I don’t mind if we do our own little gift exchange tonight, but I’m definitely worried about what it is, now. Is it something that if someone saw, it would be embarrassing?”

He swallowed, hard. “It depends, I guess.”

“Well…if it’s that private…I guess we should do it tonight. But your present is already under the tree, so I’ll have to go get it. You get ready for bed, and I will be back.” Oriana glanced back over her shoulder at him as she reopened the door and walked back into the hallway.

Beckett’s heart was racing as he quickly got in the shower and brushed his teeth. When he went back into Oriana’s room, she was sitting on her bed again, a small gift in hand. Nervously, Beckett closed the door and took out his own small gift from his bag. He handed it to her, but remained standing. She rose an eyebrow.

“Seriously, you are freaking me out, Beckett. If that’s an engagement ring, you need to put that away, cuz I’m not opening it. No offense.”

At that remark, he couldn’t help but chuckle. “No, it’s not a ring. The box is too big for a ring. And I would never, ever propose on a major holiday.”

She nodded slowly. “Alright.” She ripped the wrapping paper off and paused at the sight of the velvety black box. “Why do I feel like this is a huge moment?”

“I don’t know…because I’m overreacting.” He bit his lip.

“Mm, probably.” She agreed before opening the box, staring at the item before meeting his eyes again. “Beck…”

“It’s stupid, isn’t it? I’ve never given a gift like this before; I didn’t know what I was doing. This is all so…surreal, Oriana. Anyways, we’ll just pretend I never gave it to you, and you never saw it. I’ll go out tomorrow and buy whatever you want.” He knows he’s rambling, but there’s no stopping him now. “I knew it was dumb; I’m so glad you didn’t open it in front of your parents, that would have just been so…”

“Beckett, shut up.” Oriana was grinning at him. “This is what you were so afraid of? I love this, how could I not love this? I really thought it was going to be a ring or something, now that would have been embarrassing, because you know what I would say if you gave me that right now. But this...” She trailed off, her smile growing even wider. “This is genius.”

“…Really?” He whispered.

“Really.” She told him, standing up and giving him a sweet kiss. “You know me so well; I can’t believe you were nervous about this.”

“But…Do you get what it means?”

Oriana carefully took out the two interlocked metal puzzle-piece keychains; each one had an engraving. “I think so…but maybe you should tell me yourself, just in case.” She winked.

Still feeling nervous, Beckett separated them. “I will keep this one.”

“Her One” Oriana murmured the engraved words.

“And you’ll keep this one.” He held the other piece of the puzzle out to her, and she gingerly took it back.

“His Only” Oriana whispered.

“Because you’re the only one I’ve been with, and you’re the only one I’ll ever want.” He held his breath as he waited for her reaction.

Her eyes were swirling with emotion. “This is…the most precious thing anyone has ever given me, Beckett. Thank you, so much.”

His eyes lit up. “I did good?”

“You did amazing.” She confirmed.

Beckett blew out a breath of relief. “Oh, thank goodness.”

Oriana’s laugh may as well have been trumpets to his ears, and when she retrieved her keys, she immediately slipped her new puzzle piece to the ring. “Well? Where’s your keys?”

“In my coat. Downstairs.”

“Downstairs…” She repeated. “Well, that’s a shame, because unfortunately…” Oriana stepped away from him and towards her door, turning the lock before facing him again. “…I’m not letting you leave this room.”

“You can’t lock the door!” Beckett gasped, his heart beginning to race.

“Uh, it’s my room, so yes I can.”

“Ori, I’m not doing anything that your father would disapprove of.”

She smirks. “Relax. I’m just giving you your present. But I wanted to see your reaction to that.”

Beckett narrowed his eyes. “You’re messing with me again.”

Oriana shrugged innocently. “I didn’t ask you to do anything, Beck. I just want to thank you properly. Maybe it’s silly, but knowing that you’re the only person whose piece will fit mine…it’s reassuring, and I can tell you put a lot of thought into it.”

Beckett reached out and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “You have no idea.”

“I think I do, actually. Knowing you, I bet you made a list of pros and cons for everything that crossed your mind, gift-wise.”

Beckett blushed. “You know me so well, too, Oriana.”

She pressed a quick kiss to his lips before turning back to her bed, and retrieving the small gift-wrapped item. “Here.”

Beckett carefully removed the green wrappings, revealing a round aluminum box. He gently lifted the cover and gasped when he saw the piece inside. “Ori! I’ve always wanted a compass like this!!”

He can’t believe it. He always thought the old-style compasses and pocket watches were the coolest thing, even though he knew most people would not agree. He gingerly traced the glass face with his fingers, admiring the bezel and admiring the smooth way it tilted in direction as he slowly circled the room with it. “This is brilliant!”

Oriana cleared her throat. “Um…look at the inscription.”

Beckett’s eyes immediately went from the compass portion to the engraved text on the top, now tracing over those letters, before meeting Oriana’s gaze.

“Always under the same sky” He murmured.

Oriana just shrugged and looked away, a noticeable blush on her own face. “It’s just…ya know… You were always so lonely…and I never want you to feel that way again. It’s just a reminder, really, that I’m never too far away. Depending what country you’re in there’s differences, obviously, but in the end, the whole world shares the same sky.”

Beckett pulled her into a crushing hug. “I don’t care about the whole world.”

She hugged him tightly back, and they just stayed there for several minutes, until he thought of something else. He pulled back, searching her eyes. “You would have given that to me in front of your family?”

Oriana blinked, then giggled. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I? There’s nothing to be ashamed of here, Beckett. Haven’t you learned that by now?”

His heart swelled. “I know. I just thought…I don’t know what I thought. You’re amazing.”

“Right back at you. I am glad we did this now, it’s more intimate this way. Since apparently both of us had something personal to add…although…I have one more gift for you.”

“Ori, you really didn’t…he gasped when he felt her hands unbuckling his belt.

“Don’t worry, it’s not costing me a thing.” She teased, before he felt her hot breath against his ear. “It’s your Christmas blow-job.”

Her voice was raspy as she unzipped his pants and began tugging them down.

“No, no, no, we can’t. I can’t do this here. Your dad…”

“Isn’t around. Besides, don’t tell me you’ve never thought of this before.”

His pants fell to his feet. “I…I never knew what your room liked like.”

“Never imagined me in your own room?”

He burned crimson. “That’s not the point!”

“Well then.” She’s giving him a look of triumph. “Fantasy fulfillment time.” She dropped to her knees, taking his briefs down with her, his dick springing loose. When he looked down at her, he was met with lustful eyes.

“But you have to be quiet.” She whispered.

“Ori, no!” He whispered back frantically. “You don’t understand; if we do this, I will never be able to look your dad in the eye ever again. Even if we’re quiet and get away with it, one look at my face in the morning will give it away!”

“Seriously, Beckett?”

He nodded again. “I’m sorry, it’s just…well he’s mentioned how you shouldn’t lock your door while I’m here, and how I’m so respectful that he has no worries. I don’t want to get kicked out, Oriana. Your parents trust me, and I can’t do anything to break that.”

Oriana slowly got to her feet, accepting his hand as help. “Fine, whatever. I’m tired anyway.”

“Are you mad? Please don’t be mad.”

She let out a strangled laugh. “Are you kidding me? You’re a fucking saint, Beckett Harrington. Why the hell would I be mad at you for respecting my parents too much to even remotely cross a line? Geez, if my Dad knew…”

“He can’t know anything!”

“…he’d probably give you a medal for World’s Best Boyfriend.”

He hurriedly pulled his pants back up. “Wait, what?”

She gave him a strange look as she climbed into bed. “Are you actually asking me that right now? Do you have any idea how many freaking fathers would want you to be the one their precious daughters spend their time with?”

He climbed in next to her. “No, I don’t. Are you saying I’m odd?”

She laughed lightly again. “I’m saying that you’re a keeper. I feel like I should be offended right now, but I can’t. You’re just so damn good.”

“Oh…” Beckett quickly turned off the lamp next to the bed. He must be a million shades of red, and he’s still not sure if he did the right thing. Is there a right thing in this type of situation? Is he really one of the only men that would turn down a blow job?

“Shit.” He heard her curse, and get out of bed.

“What?” He asked to her dark shape moving in the room. A second later he heard a faint click.

“I forgot to unlock the door.” And then she was beside him again, turning on her side and resting her head on his shoulder, and her arm strung across his abs. He felt a light chuckle and a tiny shake of her head, before her grip on him tightened. “Goodnight, Beckett.”

“Goodnight, Oriana.”

@annekebbphotography @gardeningourmet @eileendannie @alesana45 @thequeenofcronuts @friedherringclodthing @mfackenthal @coffeebeandragon @drakewalker04 @desireepow-1986 @lapisreviewsstuff @padfoot0415 @jlpplays1 @nomadics-stuff @indiana-jr @liyanin @liam-rhys-x-mc-x-constantin-blog @lovemychoices @thatcatlady0716 @poisoonheart @siriusxxvideos @holystxne @hopelessly-shipper @catlady0911

#beckett harrington #beckett harrington fanfiction #beckett harrington fanfic #beckett x mc #the elementalists #the elementalists fanfiction #playchoices #playchoices fanfiction #te fanfiction #te2 fanfiction #te beckett #te2 beckett #beckett x oriana #my sister's best friend

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frostedfaves · 4 years ago

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Nervous

Pairing: Jake Peralta x plus sized!reader

Requested by anon: what kind of requests do you do? like would you do a plus size! reader? cuz i have this idea for a Jake x plus size! reader were he has an very obvious thing for the ps! sketch artist reader who is like shy so Charles and Rosa try and set them up. like LOTS of fluff.

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: mentions of insecurity but not much

“You’re staring again.”

Jake quickly cut his eyes over to Rosa for a second to scoff at her. “I am not staring.”

He definitely was. From the break room, he had a perfect view of you sitting at your desk. You were nodding along to a victim’s lengthy description as you sketched the picture currently being painted in your mind. He couldn’t help but admire the way your hand would glide across the paper as you drew, or the warm smile on your face whenever you made eye contact with the victim, in a successful attempt to keep them calm.

“You definitely are. Why don’t you just ask Y/N out already? You clearly like her.”

“I don’t like her...she’s just a really nice person to look at and be around and admire how good at her job she is.” He stopped and looked at Rosa, whose face hadn’t changed a bit. “Okay fine, I like her. But she doesn’t like me.”

“Yes she does.”

“She won’t even look at me longer than two seconds!”

“Maybe she’s just shy or whatever.” Rosa took a quick glance out in the bullpen and nudged Jake. “Heads up, Y/N and Boyle.”

“I’m telling you, best turtle egg omelette in all of Brooklyn!” Charles smiled at Rosa and Jake at the table as he entered with you following. “Hey Jakey and Ro-Ro!”

“Hi guys.” You directed a soft smile at both, lingering a little in Jake’s stare before quickly diverting your attention to making a cup of coffee with Charles.

“Boyle, did you tell Y/N about tonight?”

“What’s tonight?” You asked quietly, looking between Rosa and Charles and feeling your heart rate quicken slightly when you noticed Jake’s eyes on you again.

“I have the same question,” Charles added as he switched places with you to give you room to make your own coffee and joined the other two at the table.

“The movies. Jake and Y/N are joining us tonight to see that new horror movie that just came out,” Rosa told him with a glare that dared him to disagree with her.

“Oh right, yeah!” he quickly agreed, too nervous to do anything else. “I forgot to tell her, sorry.”

“I would love to go,” you told the group over your shoulder.

“Great. Come on, Boyle. Let’s go reserve some good seats online.”

Rosa stood, quickly dragging Charles out of the room behind her. You quickly cleaned up the small mess you made and turned to face Jake, who hadn’t said a word since you entered. Apparently he realized this fact as well, because he rushed to say something.

“So, scary movie tonight?”

“Yeah, I like them sometimes,” you quietly responded, moving your eyes to watch your thumb move around the edge of your mug.

“Noice…”

“Yeah...well, I should go. See you tonight!” You quickly left the room, almost sighing in relief once the pressure of being alone with Jake was gone. Unbeknownst to him, you liked him just as much as he liked you. You just assumed that he would want someone prettier, someone like Amy perhaps. Not that you didn’t think of yourself as pretty, but she just seemed more his type. His body type at least.

That evening brought you to the movie theater. Jake arrived first, and you found him sitting on a bench just inside the building, playing a game on his phone to distract himself from the steadily growing nerves.

“Hey, Jake,” you greeted him as you approached.

You watched him look up, slight frown instantly melting at the sight of you. You felt yourself shrinking inward a bit as his eyes raked over your body, wondering if the slightly over-sized sweater you’d thrown on over your jeans to hide the stomach you were insecure about had done enough, or if you looked worse than you thought. The doubt faded from your mind at the sight of his grin when he met your eyes again.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare,” he told you as he slowly stood. “You just look really good. I mean you always look good but you...so where are Charles and Rosa?”

You laughed a bit, glad to not be the only obviously nervous one in a situation for once. “Um…” Before you could answer, a small ding came from your phone. You pulled it out from your pocket to see a text from Rosa.

Charles and I aren’t coming because we didn’t want to intrude on your date. Oh and tell Jake to stop being a little bitch and tell you he likes you.

“Everything okay?”

You look up at the sound of his voice with a grin. “You like me?”

“What? Who told you that? What?” Before he could fumble and embarrass himself any further, a text from Charles came in on his phone.

Sorry to deceive you, Jakey. Also Rosa told Y/N that you like her. Have a good date!

“I see who told you now,” he adds sheepishly as he puts his phone away.

“So is it true?”

Jake looked you over again, able to tell you were feeling slightly insecure just in the way you were standing. Suddenly he wished he’d said something sooner.

“Yeah, it is. I’ve had a crush on you for an embarrassingly long time but I wasn’t sure you liked me back. You barely say two words to me sometimes.”

“Yeah, I’m not that good at talking to people I have a crush on,” you told him with a giggle. “I was also trying to keep my distance because I thought you wouldn’t like someone like me anyway.”

“Someone like you?” he questioned with a frown as he stepped forward to grab your hand. “Someone super gorgeous and talented? Yeah, maybe we should go out to dinner instead so we can talk and you can learn more about what my taste in women is. Or...woman, at least.”

You bit your lip slightly to stop your grin from widening any further at the sight of his smirk. “I’m free for dinner.”

“Noice.” He flips your hand so his is on top and slips his fingers between yours, pulling you along with him as he leaves the theater. “You know, we can still watch a movie at my place after. I know a great Christmas classic,” he told you after you both were seated in his car.

You looked up at him as you fastened your seatbelt, eyes narrowed. “You’re talking about Die Hard, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am. It’s Die Hard!” He took a second to admire you as you laughed, grateful for once that his closest friends were so pushy when it came to his love life.

#jake peralta #jake peralta x reader #jake peralta x fem!reader #jake peralta imagine #jake peralta x plus sized!reader #brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn 99 #brooklyn nine nine imagine #brooklyn nine nine x reader #b99 fic #b99 imagine #b99 x reader #b99 fanfic

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tamersmile888 · 3 years ago

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Not So Berry Challenge Candie Edition: Lemon Play 6 (Part 3)

What's worse than running a mile in P.E. without working showers in the locker room? Being pestered all day by your new best friend who thinks it's the end of life as we know it if you don't go with her to a high school party.

Lemon was so close to turning off her phone to ignore the rampage of texts Aara sent out like an army trying to tear down Lemon's resistance. But then she would have had to explain why her phone was off and lying would feel a lot worse than the after effects of incessant vibrational shock.

Come to find out, Aara really does have a crush on Israel. On her last attempt to drag Lemon to the party with her, she said she wanted Lemon to casually bring her up in her and Israel's conversation.

Like, hey, cuz. How's it going? I have this friend. You like parties. She likes parties. You should totally ask her out!

When did she sign up to be a matchmaker? What, you say? It's in the fine print no one reads on the back of her Best Friend ID? Good to know....

Life was so much easier when she only played with dolls.

It's Game Night, which means all the adults will be spending the rest of the day playing cards, eating takeout and enjoying each other's company with laughs and good conversation. Usually Lemon enjoys Game Night. She doesn't have to participate if she doesn't want to. She can just watch and laugh along with the people who get her and don't push her to be anyone but herself.

But tonight's gong to be a dread because Aara's grating persistence has won the war. She's going to Israel's party. That is if she gets her parent's permission. And she's secretly hoping she doesn't. Because if they say she can't go, there's no getting around it. The door is closed and the key is thrown out the window of their ten story building. She is begging them to see inside her soul and tell her not to go to this party!

So, here we go. She drags her feet to her parents and asks if she can go to Israel's party. They look at each other, and at first she's expecting a straight out “no”. She is the president's daughter after all. Instead, she gets questions.

Her mom asks, where is the party going to be?

Lemon says, the ruins. In Windenburg. She looks from one parent to the other. What are they thinking? Please say no. Please say no!

Her dad shrugs and says, as long as you're back by ten, why not? He looks to her mom for confirmation.

Her mom says, yeah. Sure. It's good that you're getting out and spending some time with family. We trust you.

Lemon tries to respond with a smile, but it's having trouble staying tacked at the corners of her mouth. She mumbles, thanks, and then turns away to wash the mile sweat off.

She can't wrap her mind around it. Apparently she's trustworthy with stuff like this? How? She's a teenager? Now she has to go get ready for a party she wants nothing to do with. What is her life?!

Arriving at a party in the middle of a severe thunderstorm is a pretty good excuse to pack up and hightail it back home. But no...cool people stick it out. For the thrill. Lemon just hopes no one gets struck by lightning, though these kids are kind of pushing it...

Lemon has to give it to Israel. The venue is kind of cool. She'd still rather experience it on TV where talking back is optional.

But, as she keeps reminding herself over and over again to keep from running in the opposite direction, she's on a mission. All she has to do is talk to Israel, bring up Aara's name and her job here is done. She'll be released from her duties and hopefully never hired again.

She finds Israel hanging out by the fire pit. It seems like a lot is on his mind, but the moment she walks up to him, the cloud instantly clears from his face. He doesn't want to talk about it, and she's not going to pressure him. Instead, she musters up the courage just to say, hey, cool party. The dangerous weather conditions brings a unique touch.

Israel smiles and says, it wasn't planned, but I tend to go with the flow. Some of the best things in life are out of our control.

Thunder booms, quaking the ground, and lightning cracks causing Lemon to nearly jump out of her skin. She stares at the pouring rainstorm, wondering where exactly she took a wrong turn to end up in a place like this.

Israel laughs and says, but uncharted adventure is not for the faint of heart.

If that were true, Lemon needed to build up her courage quickly. Her dreams depended on it.

But this wasn't supposed to be a life lesson on bravery. She was here for a reason. She clears her throat, which is starting to get dry and scratchy from standing too close to the fire, and recites the words she's been repeating to herself since she got there so it comes out right. She says, so, I've got this friend...her names Aara. You might know here---

He says, yeah. She's in my history class.

Lemon nods and says, she's super cool. Maybe you two should...talk?

Israel smirks. He says, sure. I'll talk to her.

Lemon nervously asks, really? She wants it to be clear that this is not a prank. Aara really likes him and she wants things to go well. What if he talked to her only to laugh in her face. She honestly doesn't know that much about him to know how he'd react. She's never read the Matchmaker's Handbook. This is new for her. How does this work?

Israel shrugs as he watches the firewood burn. He says, it wouldn't be the first time someone set him up.

Now that Lemon's really seeing him, even though he's the host of the party, he isn't really in the center of it. Maybe he never wanted to be there either. He could have been dragged against his will to throw the party as much as she was dragged to attend it. It got her thinking. If you want so badly not to do something, why force yourself to do it. Why let other people control your life when it's burning you out?

Before Lemon makes Aara's day by telling her that she's practically in with Israel, she says, I know we don't talk much, but we can if you want.

Israel looks up at her, and that cloud makes a brief return before fading beneath his smile. He says, yeah, we should hang out more.

Lemon smiles back and says, any time. And this time she doesn't dread the invitation at all.

Lemon texts Aara to come join them. Otto tags along looking not too happy. He probably wants to get out of there as much as Lemon does. Lemon introduces Israel to Aara and he acknowledges her with a head nod.

He says, you want to dance? For the first time since she and Lemon's met, Aara is speechless. She nods and lightning strikes, startling her. Israel says, it's okay. We're safe under here. Those weirdos outside are the ones you should be worried about. Aara giggles as they dance together and start up a conversation about who sits where in lunch. Apparently, Aara already has everyone's seating preferences memorized.

While the two of them get to know each other better, Lemon notices Otto walking away. Then it hits her. What if Otto likes Aara? Did she just ruin his chances by hooking her up with her cousin? He probably hates her now? This is why she doesn't do teenage drama. Way too many plates to juggle and a crash is usually unavoidable.

#notsoberrychallenge #not so berry #lemon #space #rocket science #thesims4 #ts4 #simblr #simstumblr #simsstories

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jungxk · 3 years ago

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// rant

i'm jus so heartbroken rn i've been crying for the past hour i jus need to put my feelings out there, i hope it's ok w you.

my mum wakes up today and jus starts berating me bc i didnt put washed dishes into the cabinets & the kitchen looked messy for her. i'm supposed to do it bc there's nothing else i actually do but yesterday i had woken up in the evening nd they called me to pray straight away so i totally forgot about it (coupled w the fact that i dont like doing it either cuz there's always sm dishes nd it's such a hassle). she jus started scolding me senseless nd im someone who doesnt get mad easily, even if i do i tend to stay quiet bc i dont like conflict & angry emotions are ugly. but i couldnt stop it today? she kept calling me selfish nd she's been calling me that the past few days as well bc i never help out w chores or anything. she's always asking me "what do u do for this family" or "what do u do in this house" every single time nd ofc i cant say shit bc i dont. i'm doing uni online nd it's really not that easy but bc i dont talk to my family like at all, they think i'm all good. the other day i pissed them off nd my parents straight up said "why do we need to pay for ur uni ure not doing anything anyway" & i jus... i didnt even know if i even deserve to feel sad over it. they were asking me what i wanna do after uni as if im not just in my first year & when i said im not sure they got so mad and my mum purposely said "just marry her off" to push my buttons into giving them an answer. they keep saying i'm pushing them into being the worst and saying the worst to me but how is that fair? they're parents? adults? i'm jus 20 & i can control my emotions? but today really jus pushed me she got so mad at me for the littlest things nd i jus exploded. I asked her why she's mad and she's like cuz of the kitchen bla bla bla nd it got so frustrating i told her it's not my problem nd i jus wont ever eat again since all the unwashed dishes piling is my fault. nd then she got mad at me for that and scolded me. I hate being touched but mostly i hate being hit. imagine getting hit at 20 years old bc my mother is too emotionally unstable that she cant take a few seconds by herself to calm her anger down. I hate it. nd bc i said it's not my problem she came nd told me "yea it won't be ur problem when i die too! i'll make sure when i do, u never come see me." jus... what kind of parent says that? i'm so careful w what i say & i slip sometimes bc i'm human but how can a mother say that? she doesnt know anything about me. she doesn't know i dont like being hit, she doesnt know i dont like it when ppl act impulsively on emotions. sometimes i feel like i really am the problem nd that i'm really selfish. spending shit ton of money to get me to study, maybe i am selfish. i dont mind it. i know myself well enough to hate things about myself. but to have parents who barely know me as a person rather than a daughter, getting this much mad at me for smthn so simple jus makes me so sad. bc i was doing the task when she asked. she does things like this then wonders why i cant ever talk to her. entire family thinks i'm immature bc i behave exactly how they treat me. 20 years. I never ask for much. but it's starting to feel like asking to study in the uk was my greatest downfall. it feels like i dont deserve this. every day i'm itching to get away, to live alone bc they've made me feel like i can never work well in groups. it's always somehow my fault as if they havent been invalidating me nd my feelings since birth.

nd i can never tell them all these bc i'm never confident in them. i'm never confident in whether i would be accepted nd comforted without ridicule or scolding. my brother & father tell me it's like that, that jus bc i may get a scolding shouldn't stop me from being open. but what kind of stupidity is that? my mother who makes me feel like the world is ending when i accidentally break smthn, that it wasn't an accident but rather it's me nd that i jus cant do a good job— where is the comfort i can ever find coming to her w a problem?

nd bc of that we're not close. bc of that she's closer to my cousins & everyone else really. they've never concerned themselves to talking about family issues w me but when i dont know, they shame me, saying i never bother to ask— how would i know when to ask? should they be telling me when there's smthn going on?

this makes the concept of family so repelling for me. there is inherently no reason to ever have a child that isnt selfish or self fulfilling. what they do as parents is to make them feel as important nd respected as they expect from the child. but it's never like that w south asians. emotions dont exist if ure the child nd apparently getting mad is a norm nd shouldn't stop u from being emotional w someone.

at times i tell myself that i should pay back every penny my parents spent on me. bc sometimes it feels like it's being used to make me act or feel a certain way. i dont wanna feel this way. theyre my parents, i know theyre good people. but i'm so hurt by the things going on nd the things from the past. my mother invalidates me sm. she more or less kinda blamed me for feeling useless and depressed last year. my brother was telling her to go easy on me nd she got so mad & frustrated bc she didnt know what she was doing wrong. "if she feels so useless why doesnt she do anything about it?" like that was such a golden chance for her to have comforted me nd i couldve opened up? but she ruined it nd hurt me again.

last year i lived w her alone nd my dad was in our home country. I was having some troubles w him gone but i dont call or text bc... it always felt like a drag. it never felt like a conversation nd the only time it did was when i complained to him about my mum. so much shit happened between my mum and i & this person advised me to jus write some of my feelings to her. so i wrote her a long letter nd i included saying how not having my dad was hard on me too. flash forward im in my home country & w my dad. i know nobody here bc i didnt grow up here. i'm doing online uni & basically have to stay indoors cuz of covid. she brings that letter up when she was to berate me nd it jus feels so uncomfortable for me? like ok my actions dont line up but i wrote that cuz i was looking for comfort nd understanding. if i knew it was going to be held against me, i would not have done it? "u said it was so hard for u without him, so what do u even do for him here now?"— what can i do? i'm just 20 nd the situation im in is not normal? i'm grateful to be w my dad again but what can i do? &it always freaking comes down to house chores. i try my best. when our maid doesnt come i do my best w my tasks. i know it's not enough but i jus... i dont even know. ig that part of me is selfish nd lazy.

it's so suffocating here. all my feelings are bottled up nd im so scared what that would do to me in the future. but at least i know i'm too selfish to ever spend the rest of my life w someone.

sorry for the long rant. i hope this didnt ruin ur mood or anything i jus need an outlet nd ur blog jus feels so comforting nd welcoming. thank u for listening to me nd my feelings. God bless u really kssjdjsj

i’m rlly sorry this is happening to you bby. idk what race u are but this sounds so much like that asian mentality where emotions are black and white and comfort in any way is out of the question. ur still rlly young tho so ur relationship with ur parents has room to improve i promise. i think it’s rlly important for u to move out whenever u can tho bc that’s what rlly improves the relationship. having said this i do think the way your mum talks to u/treats u is emotionally and mentally abusive so whether you want to uphold that tie with her in the future is ur choice i just rlly hope u get somewhere safe and away from ur family soon x

#answered

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bad-angela · 3 years ago

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So, this guy from... idk, I always think California for some reason. There full of shifty, horrible people, yea? For the government jobs I mean, you normal folk are brilliant wow that sounded so sarcastic I'm sorry, lol. They should have a different text mean *sarcasm*. I'm not aloud to be at home... I'm 40eee something and yet if mom says no cussing there will be no cussing... when she's over. "Isn't she over every day?" yes okay shes mom she can do whatever she likes

Right, so, far away dude. Apparently in real estate. Gets texts n calls everyday about rentals and property and bla bla business bla de da. Not as successful as hed like, but if the volume of business calls he works the hell out of it. All the time, he gets asked about so many different places. Like I said though, must not be very well-to-do. Wanna know how I found all this out? How this man, implementing the power of his cell to bring home to all who need a home. But hes still such a tool. Anyway, how do I know, yes? Oh, Gery... his name is Gery. Yes, and I know all of this... because... I'm Gery. Oooo, plot twist! Me myself and I have been Gery for some years yet. Sometimes we text, sometimes we call. Well no, sometimes *they* call. Gery is a giant pain in the @$$ the stupid jerk. Who knows what this freaking mans deal is. Must not sell a lot of property, cuz I'm his flipping secretary! It's time to raise the stakes my friends. Maybe Grey's dead tomorrow; a horrific car crash! You know I told him not to buy that... milk truck; they have no doors you'd just fly right out. Maybe that's why he drove in the middle of people's yards all the time; grass beats pavement every time! Although their thinking of calling it a homicide; found little bbs all in his face. Was to worried about his latest plastic surgery instead of looking where he was going. I told him, I'd say "Gery, you cant take it with you". Well, you know, I didnt come up with it myself. It was a... you know what, give me a sec I'm going to look it up so... no, know... I should give credit where credit is due. Oh its nothing I'm looking it up while you... I mean... i... I dont... oh I insist! Cant take credit away from the actuel... hello? Hello? Lol; I should take bets on how long I can keep them on for, lol.

Explosion, torture, massive allergic reaction (didnt know he was allergic to Silica! He would eat anything... it's called something I know. I mean I'd say "Gery it says right on there Don. Not. Eat.. who knew he couldnt read. I mean how sad is that even, ya know? So poor thing ate it all, its a desiccant ya. You know, a drying agent. Thank you Community College. So, he shriveled right up, all dry n dusty. The human body is loads a water ya know; Poor Gery, it just sucked every drop of it like that, like this old shop vac I used to have at my old job; sucks everything up like a fat kid eats icecream. Not that Gery was, oh god no. Oh my... I can only hope he didnt hear that. They can you know... or maybe

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antigoneidk · 4 years ago

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hiii❤️could i request tom x reader where she is a famous singer and her and tom breaks up and she realizes the song dead(by madison beer) and she says "you said u can't live without me" cuz she remembers when tom told her that and after she says "why aren't u dead..." and tom heard of the lyrics and he tries to commit suicide but the reader goes at his house and she founds him and it's like very angst😣😭😭

Dead|t.h.

A/N : thank you for your request. Also I tried to switch from 2nd person to 3rd at some point for a little so I hope it's okay.Enjoy❣

Warnings : language,mentions of suicide,angst

"You think isn't hard for me?Leaving and going on tour without seeing you for months? I'm trying to be happy Tom,I love my job. Why are you doing this now?"your eyes filled with tears,blurring your vision. He was standing across the room,away from you.

"I just can't doing this anymore. The distance is too much for me y/n. And I don't even know what are you doing there alone." his fingers running down his curls,messing his hair. You walked faster towards him and you slapped him in his cheek forcing him to turn his face. The sound made you close your eyes but his words broke your heart in billion pieces. How could he think such a thing? You never thought of cheating,ever. You loved him so much to hurt him like that. You missed him every day,every second. Your songs were about him,your feelings in words you couldn't speak but only sing.

"That's what are thinking of me?That I cheated on you? I-I...you just hurt me with the worst way possible"you passed him away and your tears escaped and covered your face and neck. You wanted to scream,break stuff around you,cry hard.

"Stop doing like this. I didn't say that you cheated on me. But what I'm supposed to think if your miles away from me? Facetime,photos and voice messages don't work and you know it too. It hurts me when I can't touch you,hold you,kiss you."his hands tried to approach you but your body moved back. You couldn't think at that moment.

"It hurts me too and I thought you knew. But to think of this? I can't believe you"

"I'm scared that you are going to leave me one day all fucking alone"his tears showed up but his anger was worse. His tone was mean and abusive"I am trying to stay positive but loneliness hits hard when you are by yourself inside these fucking four walls. Even my friends can't help me"his hands moving with his words. He was angry only to cover how sad and broken he actually was. What was he even doing?

"I know it"you yelled at him. Your voice cracked and a sob left your lungs"I feel the same every second I'm away. But don't say that I didn't try. I told you to come with me and you denied for who knows what reason. So don't be an asshole now"your arms were now crossed to your chest.

"Babe,I have no idea what is going on with me. I'm sorry"how his mind can change in a second?

"No. Don't touch me"you pushed him far away from you"You can't just hurt me like that and then saying you're sorry. You don't mean it"you left again but you were now moving to the front door ready to leave.

"You don't have to leave now"he grabbed your arm with anger so that he can stop you"When I say I'm sorry I mean it y/n. And where are you even going huh? Stay so that we can talk"

"The only person you have to talk is yourself. Make a choice. I hurt myself trying to love you and your indecisiveness. What do you want?"you asked him. Did he wanted to be with you or not? You sounded indignant.

He says he loves you but he thinks that you cheat.

"Go away"that was it? He wanted you to leave?"Don't come back"You didn't say anything. Tears in your eyes once more showing how weak you were.You left running away and crying as loud as possible. Not giving a damn if someone could hear you.

You left a scream once you closed the door of your car.

Anger. Sadness.

Two emotions that had you fucked up for days.

"I can't live without you my love"

"And I don't even know what are you doing there alone"

"I love you"

"Go away"

His voice haunted you like a ghost. Your voicemail full. His texts, drunk words full of regret. Then texts with hate you's.Your mind couldn't process this.

Why was he like this? Two different personalities in a body. It was like you had a relationship with two people and not one. The one loved you,cared for you,missed you. The other thinking you cheat,lie,never care for him. It sounded to you like this was a part of him that was scared. Maybe you weren't showing you loved him enough.

And then memories with him saying sweet things,making promises,talking about a better future. Everything was falling apart,slipping through your hands.

You wanted to write,escape. The only way you could keep yourself from the complete distraction. The only way you could express the pain,the sadness were into. He was your muse even for this. The inspiration you always needed.

Tom's eyes scanning the other cars around him,trying to escape his own thoughts. Raindrops hitting his car,breaking the silence that made him breath hard.

One month,he thought. Her things still in his place,the ghost of her following him in every corner. He was feeling her stare behind him,burning piece by piece his body. Flower perfume smelling in the house. Her laugh coming through the walls,giving him warmth. Her touch giving him chills. Her lips keeping company to his lonely ones.

I hate you,I hate you.

The only phrase in his sober mind. Why she'd left him like that? Did she wanted to? She didn't say a thing. A single word. She just left him there hopeless, alone. She had to fight. Stay there and fight right? If she was right,that what she was supposed to do.

I love you,I love you.

The alcohol running through his veins. He missed her but she was right. She had to be free and happy. Things she apparently didn't feel anymore by his side. The best thing he had to do is to let her go. Even if he didn't want to.

His fingers searching for music. The radio on,help him survive from his sadness he was drowning into.

"And right after her tour, y/n y/l/n is already giving us new music. She-"

Just her name could distract him from everything. New song. She never talked about it. He was the first one to hear her voice singing words that only tears could bring him. She trusted him. She anticipated his thoughts for every song and album,before the whole world.He was her muse and the only one that his opinion mattered to her. Until now.

"Do you think is about her recent break up? People are going crazy" this woman's voice made Tom think again. Their break up? She wrote a song about their break up?

"That's what I thought too when I heard it but let's hear it again. This is Dead by y/n y/l/n"

The beat. He stopped his car and stayed there staring at the sky.

"You could be here but you're there,you could be anywhere and these days I don't even care"

After days her voice was real to his ears. Deep,full of pain. His fault.

"You only be showing me love whenever you've had too much"

Did he acted like this?

"Yeah, tryna fuck me and my mind up,it's a reminder you're a liar and you know I'm right"

She was right. He knew it.

"You say you can't live without me.So why aren't you dead yet?Why you still breathing?"

He recalled his words.

"I can't live without you my love. How can I live without seeing your beautiful eyes every morning when I wake up or every night before I sleep with you in my arms? How can I live without hearing your sweet voice talking and whispering to me words I need to hear? Singing for me? How can I live without having you touch me,dancing around the living room,making love to you? How can I live without your love,the only reason i breath for? You're like a drug to me. I'm addicted to you the more you're here with me,the more your eyes meet mine,the more you speak to me,the more your hands are all over my body. I'm nothing without you do you hear me?"his hands to her cheeks wiping her little tears away. She was holding him so tight,not letting him leave. Their lips connected,not letting one another. This was the air the needed. One another.

His tears never stopped falling as he kept listening to her words. The pain she let her go through.

"And I give you so many shots but you just drinking 'em all,you never give it a thought, oh love"

He was now seeing it clearly,how he took her love for granted

"Say only what you mean"

He couldn't live without her. He meant it although she thought he didn't.

"Mean to me then you're nice,you're nice,you're nice"

The anger took over him that night. That night he wanted to erase from his memory for ever. Words he never meant to say to her,making her feel bad. How the hell the thought of her cheating crossed his mind? She was the one that loved him like no one else. And he just pushed her.

He wanted to pretend that it was a bad dream. A nightmare. He would wake up and she would be next to him,holding him close to her body,kissing him,telling that it was a dream and everything was alright.Fuck he missed her.

"Why,why,why,why?"

He punched the steering wheel on front of him,screaming the name that was avoiding for a month.

Why did he do that to her? Why did he have to push the person he loved the most far away from him? Why did he not fought for it more? Why did he not stopped loving her?

He started questioning his decisions. So many mistakes,so many bad choices,so many wrong people,except his girl. The girl that wasn't his anymore. Or wouldn't be any time soon.

What was the point of living then? He failed his family,his friends,the person that was in love with. She was the one that could save him from the confusion in his mind,that could help him survive from the disaster he caused to everyone around him. All of his tears couldn't bring her back to him. She was not longer his,but free.

He was now driving to his home,his blurry vision make it difficult to drive. His hands squeezing the steer hard, turning the color to bright white just like his bones. The only thing to his brain

Death. A solution to his problem. A way to escape from this prison he locked himself.

None of the people would care for him. Not the people he wanted to care for him. One specific he needed the most now to take the pain away. To whisper to his ear,kiss him. Not even an angel was able to compare to y/n,the angel he let go. And the fact that his name would never fall from her lips was a shame for him.

Every move was quicker that the other. Her pink toothbrush next to his blue one. Her perfume in his hands, smelling it one more time. Her beautiful eyes met his red tired ones through the big mirror. He left the tears run down his face, hoping she would take them away but when he blinked,she disappeared.

Pills over the sink now. He swallowed as many as he could to end this quicker.The pain in his chest. He sat down at the bathroom floor crying. Sweating falling from his forehead as he placed his hands behind his head.

Take me away

You opened the door quietly. He was nowhere near so you left a breath fall from your mouth. You wanted to take some of your stuff from this house.

The fight you had was happening right in front of your eyes. The tense,the anger,the nerves, the pain. You closed your eyes and moved to your bedroom.

"Let me make love to you"

His hands touching your body,leaving the need for more. The pleasure he only knew you needed. His hot breath hitting your skin,his kisses marking every inch of your skin and you moaning at that feeling. Your hands at his hair pulling him closer and closer,more into you. Becoming one.

Your hands pushing his clothes aside,taking yours putting them into your little bag. They smelled just like him. The whole room. You blinked once more,trying to prevent the teardrops. You felted his eyes on your back,increasing your heartbeat. But once you turned the wall seemed more cold that ever. You needed to cry at the bed,take his pillow and hug it as tight as possible. But you didn't have the time.

You opened the bathroom door. Pills everywhere. Your things untouched except your cologne. The whole room smelled flowers and you wanted to throw up at that smell. It was his favourite. You reminded him of flowers,birds,spring,the season of love.

And them as you came inside you found his body down,his head at the side,his eyes shut,and his chest moving slowly up and down. His hands rest at the side of his body,sweating all over his face. His curls at the middle.

You screamed. You sat down next to him with his head at your hands.

"Baby? Tom? My love? Tommy? Baby answer me."you cried out as he didn't respond to you."Why did you this? Why did you do that to yourself darling? Why?"

His eyes opened to met yours. Deep red,brown full of pain. He tried to smile but was to weak.You were responsible for that? You never saw him like this,ever. His right hand touched your face,scanning you for a while.

"I love you y/n"he couldn't speak. You were shaking now,terrified. He was dying in front of you.

"I need you to throw up for me. I am not letting you die no. Why,why?"you tried to save him. You were trying to. You called for help.He was throwing up. You held his head and hand tight.

"How many did you take?"you asked. He looked at you with tears. You stopped some of them and kissed his cheeks with your hands on his neck."Why my love?Why?"you felt hopeless.

"You don't love me anymore y/n and I can't live without you. Don't leave me."his voice cracked just like your heart did.You bit your lips,almost cutting them. The sight of him down weak,unable to talk or even look at you was heartbreaking for you. The love of your life was about to leave you.

You kissed his lips softly. They were dry,not how they used to. You felt him trying to kiss you back but not for long. You opened your eyes after worried,his breath kept getting worse and worse. "I love you,don't go"you hugged him and kept him close to you. He was going to survive. He had to survive. You would be by his forever,never leaving again and trying to make up for it.

Make up for all of his tears,his pain you made him feel. And you were responsible for.

________

let's pretend that the song wasn't about jack for a moment thankss

also I want to mention that suicide is a very serious topic and is something we should take seriously.

Hope you like it and I'm sorry for any mistakes:)

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littletantrums · 3 years ago

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So here's the run-down on the past like 4 months of my life lol

at the start of May, one of my cute regulars at work started flirting with me so i gave him my number. we went on a date and i'm not gonna say i was already in love after it but i was definitely falling hard and fast for him. he moved in with me after 2 weeks.

end of May i started really struggling with money because i am a fucking idiot and being in love for the first time makes you go Crazy apparently lol

start of June, turned 19, got a pinup tattoo of the Hex girls started on my leg

end of June got promoted to shift lead at work. some strain started on me and Babe's relationship because he drinks too much (he has since realized i was right and is trying to do better)

start of July, Babe got into a fender bender because he's blind on his right side (everyone was fine, his headlight was just crushed). (TW) i noticed i'd gained some weight, so my ED started acting up again

end of July, me and Babe were having a lot of issues, unbeknownst to me, because he does this thing where he doesn't talk about his feelings no matter how much i ask him to (he's getting better about it)

first week of August, Babe moved out, and he lied to me about why. After a week of him effectively ghosting me, he cancelled on our plans to celebrate our 3 months, and i went a bit nuts.

second week of August i pretty much force him to break up with me (told him he NEEDED to give me an answer as to whether he wanted to stay together or break up, and i said that i'd rather break up for now and get back together later on than stay together for now and break up later on). he did break up with me.

third week in August, i pick up a FWB because fuck it i was single now. halfway through the week i find out from Babe's sister that he's seeing a girl. i was absolutely fucking crushed that he was able to move on emotionally that quickly.

last week in August, Babe and I start to be kind of friends again. i find out that while he's not unhappy in his relationship, he was certainly not happy either. he seemed to be the only one that was unaware of that fact (or he just wouldn't acknowledge it, who knows).

(BIG TW) while i was at FWB's house, a couple days ago, Babe calls me, sobbing, and says he's gonna khs. Obviously i fucking panic and beg him to tell me where he is. It takes 20 minutes for him to tell me he's at a specific church that's supposed to be a 40 minute drive from where i was, and I made the drive in 25 minutes. First thing that he does when i get there and jump out of my car to open his driver side door is he kisses me (while still sobbing). He's burying his head in my chest and saying sorry for a million different things while i just tell him "everything's okay baby, i got you, everything will be alright" for a solid 5 minutes. We get past that and I spend about an hour talking him down, and by the end of it we're both just so relived and everything feels okay again. He was pretty drunk so i hung around for like 4 more hours until he started to sober up. He promises me he's going to break up with the girl because of many reasons he listed (that have nothing to do with getting back with me, altho he did say that she was absolutely a rebound for him). I kiss him a few times (i still feel guilty for it tbh bc they hadn't broken up yet). When he's finally okay enough to drive, I follow him home to make sure he gets there safe. I get home half an hour later (at like 6am) and text his sister what happened. Last night when i was at work, his roommate (one of his best friends, who does Not like me) showed up at my job and thanked me for what I did. I wanted to say he shouldn't be thanking me for doing what any normal person with empathy would want to do, but i didn't cuz i just didn't know how to say it right. He tells me that Babe's brother-in-law and him are going to have a talk with Babe that night about what happened, and he jokingly said he was gonna beat the shit out of him. We've all been keeping a really close eye on him the past couple days and we're continuing to do so, but it seems like he's not in that bad of a place anymore

Tonight, Babe told me he does want to get back together but he (understandably) needs some time to himself first. We got up to some shenanigans in his car tonight tho because the girl really wasn't doing it for him, and he finally broke up with her, lol.

(TW bugs) also i have bed bugs rn and im mildly allergic to them so even though i'm sleeping completely away from them and i've also fogged out my room like 6 times, the bites that i have are bad enough i need to take 2 benadryl every night and every morning just to be functional so that's FUN

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nataliedanovelist · 4 years ago

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GF - Shards of Glass 1/2

After over thirty years, Ma is getting paid a visit, all thanks to the persuasion of a sweater-making, pig-loving teenager. A loud HAPPY BIRTHDAY for Stanley and Stanford Pines, born June 15th 19?? (who cares?) Part 2 will be posted on June 30th to conclude the celebration of their existence. So stay tuned!

@thestanbros

~~~~~~~~~~

Mabel had never been on a plane before.

Well, okay, that wasn't entirely true; she had been on an airplane before, but she was so little back then and she didn't remember it now, so to her brain this was her first time on a plane, and she didn't like it much. She had to chew on gum the whole time to keep from getting a headache and the WiFi was too slow to function, so she daydreamed about the summer ahead as she watched the clouds roll by and imagined shapes.

Once, when she and Dipper were really little, maybe four or five, they had flown down to Ma Pines' house all the way in New Jersey for a holiday. Probably Thanksgiving since Mabel only had three memories of that trip. She remembered yummy sweet potatoes with marshmallows that she ate as much as she was allowed, she remembered the distinct smell of the flat, and she remembered…

"Attention passengers, we will be arriving in Glass Shard, New Jersey in five minutes. Please remain seated until instructed to exit the plane, and as always thanks for flying with us at…"

"Dipper, we're here!" Mabel cheered and checked her phone, her other hand busy petting a disturbed Waddles on her lap. By the time a message would load to her great uncles they would already be in front of them, so there was no point in sending a text to alert them of the arrival. "This is so exciting! A whole month sailing with my three favorite people in the world!"

"I'm so excited to see all the anomalies the guys were talking about." Dipper said, looking up from his special journal to smile at his twin. "Maybe we'll see a real adlet!"

"But first I wanna see where Grunkle Stan and Ford grew up!" Mabel piped in. "Maybe we'll see the cave where they found the Stan O' War!"

"Maybe," Dipper said, unsure how true that word was. "But don't you think they might not want to stay very long? I wouldn't be surprised if they want to set sail as soon as we get there."

"But what about their mom?" Mabel asked. "Don't they want to see her?"

Dipper looked down at the silver pinetree on his blue book. Their great-grandmother was a tough old bird (as Grandpa Shermie called her) and was still going in her early nineties. Grant it, she didn't do much besides give an occasional palm reading to keep herself busy, but she was definitely still around. Grandpa Shermie was good about staying in touch with her from what Dad said, and Dad called her every Sunday, but she was still relatively lonely due to the fact that her husband was gone (good riddance) and two of her sons hadn't spoken to her in thirty years. ("Stanford" had been very quiet during Stanley's funeral, had refused to attend Filbrick's, and when Grunkle Stan saw Dipper and Mabel being born he left just before Ma arrived at the hospital.) While a visit was way overdue, it might be too little too late.

"I'm sure they want to see her," Dipper finally said as he looked back up at Mabel. "But it might be too hard, now. And not just for them, you know? How would she take it? Would she even believe them?"

Mabel's attitude dropped a little bit more. She shrugged and scratched the spot Waddles can never reach. "I dunno… Dad took the news okay."

Dipper smiled. When their parents' had gotten Mabel's letter their mother didn't believe them, but their father took them seriously and only shrugged and said, "Yup, that sounds like my uncles, alright."

"I think it's a good idea to see Ma, but let's not pressure them, okay?" Dipper settled on.

"Don't worry, Bro-Bro." Mabel said confidently. "It'll all work out. Oo! Look, look, look! We're here! Look, Dipper, look!"

"Okay okay, I'm looking." Dipper chuckled as they both watched the ground come closer and closer, the plane landing safely on the runway and gliding peacefully.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ford had always been more collected and self-contained of the dynamic duo; this became apparent as he was able to stand perfectly calm in the airport with his hands on the pockets of his blue jacket while Stan tapped his foot impatiently and checked his phone every minute, even though he never received a notification or heard a ringtone. Ford smiled and came up with a joke to poke the bear with. "Well well, has Stanley Pines truly gone soft for two teenagers?"

"Shaddup." Stan growled but smiled back nonetheless.

"You know, a watched pot never boils. Just relax."

"I ain't worried or nothing, Poindexter," Stan defended. "Sorry that an uncle's excited to see his kids!"

"I'm happily anticipating their arrival, as well," Ford chuckled. "I'll admit it, Mabel's idea of sailing with us is a fantastic one. Why in the Multiverse she wanted to go so badly she felt compelled to beg for a month straight…"

"Believe it or not, the kids like us." Stan lightly punched his shoulder. "I'm sure all they want is to be stuck on a boat with two cool old men for a month with nothing but fish and an occasional monster for company."

"And a pig."

Stan snorted. "I try to forget that naked jerk."

"And we all know how great of a job you…" Ford cut himself off, turning red and fearing he had crossed a line, but Stan laughed loudly and slapped his knee.

"Okay okay, you got me there…"

"Stanley,"

"What?"

Just as Stan turned around, his eyes landed on the two most precious things in the world: a boy in a ushanka and navy blue vest with a green t-shirt and blue jeans, a journal in his hands and a large backpack on his shoulders, and a girl with shoulder-length brown hair kept back with a red headband, wearing a purple sweater with a big pink heart that held a golden fish and a golden six-fingered hand, a pig in her arms and a huge suitcase just busting at the seam with sweaters and arts n' crafts supplies.

Mabel grinned with teeth free of braces and tears in her eyes and let Waddles down so they could all run freely. Stan broke into a run for his pumpkin and ignored the squealing pig that arrived at him first by a split second, little hooves on his jeans and button eyes requesting cuddles. Stan scooped Mabel up into his arms and held her tight, her arms wrapped around his neck and her face in his shoulder. Dipper was at his legs in an instant and hugged him, not bothering to pretend it's a chokehold or a means to make the old guy trip and fall. Stan freed an arm to keep him close, and not even a second after Dipper joined the hug Ford was by his brother's side and Dipper adjusted to hug him, too.

Stan heard a small sniff and rubbed Mabel's back. "Sweetie, you're not crying, are you?"

Mabel lifted her head up from his shoulder to look at him, wiping away the tears on her cheeks and eyes. "N-No…" Her smile unwavering through her white lie.

Stan chuckled warmly and put her down next to her twin. "Alright, let us get a good look at you two."

"You've seen us at least once a week." Dipper reminded him. They video-chatted constantly and there wasn't a day they didn't exchange an email or a text message.

"This is different, now shaddap and let me work through my cataracts." Stan and Ford looked at the kids hungrily, who was looking back at them just the same, as if they couldn't absorb each other's appearances enough. Which was probably true. "You've both gotten taller."

"I'm taller than Mabel now!"

"By one milometer!"

"Now don't get short with your brother." Ford said with a smile, making every laugh, including Mabel, who shrugged with a "whatcha gonna do" atmosphere to it.

"And your teeth look amazing, pumpkin!" Stan commented; back in March she had gotten the braces removed and admitted to being unsure if her teeth looked good enough, but they dazzled beautifully when she grinned and apart from a painful reminder that she was growing up, Stan was pleased with the new change.

"And the pictures and video don't do your hair justice. You look beautiful." Ford got on one knee and ruffled her hair, making her giggle and playfully swat his hand away. "I must ask, was there a reason for the new hairstyle, or did you simply fancy trying something new?"

"Let's just say an arts n' crafts accident didn't leave me much choice." Mabel said with a wink.

"She set her hair on fire and we had to cut off the dead ends." Dipper spoiled.

"Dipper! I gotta keep some secrets! It makes me look cool and mysterious!"

"No more secret, sweetie." Stan laughed alongside her.

"And Dipper, my boy, you've certainly grown up a lot since we've last seen you." Ford noted as he stood back up.

"Yeah, who gave you permission to look more manly and junk?"

Dipper rolled his eyes at Grunkle Stan's comment, but Mabel chimed in first. "He's already grown five chest hairs! I bet he named them, too."

"I did not!"

"He won't let me see, though…"

"Last time you saw my chest hair you put it in your scrapbook!"

"That's cuz it was your first, Dip-Dip. The rest aren't as special."

The uncles laughed at the kids' playful bickering and Stan took Mabel's suitcase and they ventured out of the airport with Waddles in Mabel's arms.

With the airport being on the furthest side of town from the beach, Stan flagged down a cab and they piled in for the docks. The entire car-ride they filled each other in on their lives, the kids talking about school and the adults giving brief summaries of some of their adventures. Waddles moved from Mabel's lap to Stan's, and without a single comment and only funny looks from the others, Stan scratched the pig as he talked and listened.

At long last the cab pulled up to the docks and the kids ran out, tired of sitting after a six-hour flight and a twenty-minute car ride, while Ford paid for the ride. The younger set of twins raced to the boat they had only seen pictures of and marveled at the vessel before them. Already showing signs of harsh weather and tons of love, the Stan O' War II stood strong on the gentle sea salt waves, the white letter shining in the early-afternoon sun. With a cozy cabin with a downstairs bedroom and an upstairs everything room, a hardtop for astronomy and sunbathing, and a big enough cockpit for the small family, the Stan O' War II had been an excellent home for the old pair of twins and the younger pair of twins were excited to live here for the first half of summer.

"There she is, kids!" Stan said proudly, a hand on Dipper's shoulder. "This ole girl survived Fiji Monkeys, sirens, and five different krakens. It's completely and totally safe." And then a piece of the antenna for the TV fell off.

"Grunkle Stan, if we can survive in the Mystery Shack for an entire summer, I think we'll be fine here." Dipper said while Mabel ran up to the boat and climbed up with Ford behind her.

"What do you think, my dear?"

"It's BEAUTIFUL!" Mabel squealed and hoisted Waddles up into the boat with them, her eyes sparkling with stars as she took in every detail. "I can't wait to get splinters and name all the moldy spots!"

"Unfortunately, there aren't any moldy spots yet." Ford chuckled. "But there are some craters in the wood that haven't been named."

"Leave that to Mabel!"

When Stan and Dipper joined them, the old men took the kids downstairs to the bedroom to unload their things and get situated. What once used to only hold a set of bunk beds and a dresser now also hosted a set of hammocks hooked to the wall and the dresser, one on top of the other for the kids. Mabel squealed with delight and snuggled into the lower one (still a little afraid of heights) and Dipper said, "Whoa, cool! Thanks, guys."

"Well, can't have you two gremlins sleeping out on deck, can we?" Stan asked. He clapped his hands together and declared, "Alright! You two get settled while Ford and I get us out at sea…"

Mabel sat up on her knees, her hands on the edge of the hammock. "Wait, Grunkle Stan! Aren't you gonna give us the grand tour?"

Stan shrugged. "It's a small boat. Not much to tour, kid."

"I mean Glass Shard Beach." Mabel pressed. "You could show us that old candy store and your swing-set and the boardwalk you used to play in!"

Ford looked over at his brother; while he could stomach saying here a little longer, he wasn't sure how comfortable Stan was taking a trip down memory lane, but then again Stan was always preaching about how "the past's in the past" and "old memories shouldn't stop us from making newer, better ones," but that didn't excuse the fact that Stan had been quick to suggest leaving the docks as soon as they picked up the kids and get the supplies they needed when they first arrived.

But Stan smiled, crossed his arms over his chest, and smirked, "I don't see why not? You cool with it, Sixer?"

Ford smiled at his family. "I think it's a wonderful idea. The boardwalk should be open, maybe the Freak Show is still there."

"Freak Show?! Let's go!" Mabel hopped out of her hammock and the four left the boat for town.

Walking alongside the beach and letting Mabel ride on Stan's shoulders, the kids got a good glimpse of the town. They eventually decide to walk into it on the way to the boardwalk, the old men wondering how much Glass Shard had changed.

It was an odd combination of "nothing changes" and "everything changes". The buildings were still the same, not much torn down or rebuilt, but the interiors were mostly updated or something completely different. They passed the Juke Joint and Stan found he couldn't ignore the growl in his stomach. Nothing but the staff had changed (and the prices had gone up due to inflation), the wall art and food and music still the same, but they had a fun time in the diner as the adults told the kids why What's New Kittycat wasn't an option in the jukebox.

After the late lunch, they were just about to enter the boardwalk when they spotted the candy store that mostly sold saltwater taffy, but they also sold jelly jeans, toffee peanuts, peanut brittle, and any kind of candy anyone could want. Though the store had been given a clean update since Ford and Stan were children, the candy was better than they remembered and they all filled their pockets with bags of sweets. Then they strolled along the Boardwalk and while they didn't play many games, the Stan-twins had a lot of fun telling stories that came along with each and every booth.

At the end, in a giant tent with a devil at the front, stood the Freak Show. Of course, none of the adults from the old men's childhood were still around, except for one muscular guy with tons of tattoos who growled at Mabel like an animal but then broke into a smile as she complimented his look and asked where she could get a cool tattoo of a headless seagull.

"Well, tear off my limbs and call me the next human pickle!" The very old tattoo guy said, his hair white and his skin in wrinkles, but his muscles still somehow very toned and his tattoos still clear as ever. "Good ole Six Fingers! How've you two been? These squirts normies?"

Dipper pulled off his hat and pushed back his bangs. "Who you calling normie?"

The whole tent gasped and a woman with hair growing all over her face said tearfully, "One of us."

"Yup, these little weirdos are Dipper and Mabel, our brother's grandkids." Stan introduced proudly.

"Aw, well ain't that swell!" A puppet said for it's puppeteer.

"So wait, you knew our great-uncles when they were kids?" Dipper asked the oldest weirdo.

"Tell us some embarrassing stories about them!" Mabel bugged, her hands on the guy's knee.

The old tattooed guy laughed. "Embarrassing?! Ha! Your uncles were cool little weirdos who made this dock more bearable! Nearly caught a devil at ten-years-old to boot!..."

"You did WHAT?!" The kids gasped at their beaming uncles.

"... Stan over there knew more swears than anyone else his age and Ford knew more secrets than anyone ever. Those two were hands-down the best pair of twins this side of the Mississippi!"

Ford, who was rosy in his cheeks, had his hands in his pockets and commented, "The Sibling Brothers would have loved to disagree."

"What who now?" Mabel asked.

"The worst pair of uptight dorks you would ever meet," Stan growled. "Ascot and Dickie. Blond-haired rich kids who claimed that no one solved a case quicker than them, but who found the Jersey Devil first, ey?!"

"You found WHAT?!"

"I wonder whatever happened to them." Ford pondered as he held his cleft chin.

"Who cares?" Stan said and motioned the kids out of the tent. "Now let's get outta here so I can show you what happens when a pelican eats a firecracker!"

"Stanley, no!"

"Stanley, YES!"

When the sun was setting beautifully on the ocean, the grunkles bought everyone some ice cream and they sat at the edge of the boardwalk to eat. At one point Stan got ice cream on his shirt with a small "Boo!" and had to leave to clean it off, but then got sidetracked and tried to cheat at a booth. Ford went over to rangle his brother, leaving the kids alone.

"Isn't this place great?" Mabel asked with Waddles licking her strawberry ice cream. "They were so lucky to grow up on a beach! Piedmont is so boring."

Dipper smiled at his sister and opened his mouth to respond, but something else caught his attention. A pair of look-alike kids were snickering and laughing as Grunkle Stan and Ford fought off a mean seagull that was trying to peek at the ice cream on Stan's chest. It was a cruel snicker, one the old men couldn't hear, but the kids could, only being a few feet away from them.

"What a couple of fools." The girl with short blonde curls laughed with a slight English accent.

"And does that one have six fingers?" The boy sneered with peering eyes, his hair greased and parted down the middle. "Ugh."

"Hey, hey!" Dipper snapped and stood up, pointing at the rude pair of siblings. "Shut it." He said darkly.

The boy scoffed with a cheeky smile. "Or what? What does it matter to you?"

"Yeah, you leave Grunkle Stan and Ford alone!" Mabel demanded, standing by her brother's side.

"Wait," The girl looked back at the old men, still fighting off the bird, and she cackled a mean laugh. "Six fingers? Rags for clothes? Stan and Ford? Are you the Pines family?"

Dipper and Mabel glared at them. "Yeah? So what?"

"I haven't heard that name since Uncle Ascot and Uncle Dickie told us about how they conquered the Jersey Devil and tricked some monsters to make the boys run away crying." The boy marveled.

Dipper and Mabel glared daggers at the kids, ready to snap at them, but a pair of adults came up behind the mean kids and a voice said coldly, "Bernard, Silvia, play nicely."

Mabel snickered. "Bernard…"

Dipper looked at the men who were around Ford and Stan's age. Their blond hair was freckled with gray, one of the men had a twirly mustache and wore a red and brown sweater-vest combo while the other was clean-shaved and wore a blue polo with khakis. Their blue eyes were cold and mean, and Mabel and Dipper instantly didn't like them. Ascot and Dickie smiled maliciously; these kids looked nearly identical to those pains in their sides. "I see twins run in your family, as well, do they?"

"Excellent deduction, Dickie." His brother commented. "My my my, I didn't think this town could get any worse, but here we are. Once again terrorized by the discount Mystery Twins."

"Hey!" Mabel snapped. "We're awesome! Our grunkles are the best! They go on super cool adventures all the time!"

Meanwhile Stan kicked the seagull away, making it squawk and dive for his red beanie. While Stan grabbed his hat in time and tugged, Ford grabbed the bird and pulled furiously.

Ascot and Dickie rolled their eyes in unison. "We can see that."

Huffing and puffing, Ford and Stan walked up to their kids while Stan readjusted his beanie and smiled down at the best pair of Mystery Twins he knew. "Kids, if we hurry we might make it to…"

Ford's eyes widened and then narrowed darkly. "No. Way."

"What? What…" Stan looked up and growled like an angry bulldog, a hand on Dipper and Mabel's shoulder instinctively. "Oh, great. You two."

"And so the Pines twins come crawling back, eh?" Ascot snorted. "I do hope the mysterious findings out in the West have served you well, Stanford, as you preached it would." He and his family looked up and down at their faded jeans and gruff stature.

"Clearly not." Dickie and the let slip his downfall. "And here I thought your family couldn't sink any lower."

He screamed as a pig bit his ankle and Stan stole the moment of weakness for his advantage, punching the old jerk in the face and Dickie slapping him in return, the two getting into a fight. The moment Stan punched Dickie, Ascot nearly punched Stan in retaliation, but Ford jumped him and started rolling on the docks with him. Mabel shrugged and pulled on Silvia's hair and punched her on the cheek while Bernard and Dipper began slapping each other.

And that was how Stan and Ford ended up fleeing from the cops with a teenager in their arms. Stan had to pull Mabel off of the girl like an angry cat at the sound of the sirens and Ford carried Dipper merely because the old scientist was much faster than the boy.

Luckily no one was hurt, aside from some bruises on their limbs from fighting, but Silvia had grabbed Mabel's arm awkwardly at some point during the fight and her long nails scratched Mabel's skin, actually just deep enough to make a bead or two of blood. So Ford sat Mabel on the table, her sleeve rolled up, while he tried to disinfect her injury, but Mabel kept pulling away and whimpering at the painful medicine.

"Mabel, please, you're worse than Stanley was." Ford said to ease the situation.

Mabel smiled and gripped his hand a little tighter as the medicine stung her arm. Ford then quickly wrapped it up as he scolded. "And really Stanley, you couldn't have controlled your temper?"

"You're one to talk, you jumped Ascot!"

"He was about to attack you!"

"Whatever, you were both awesome!" Dipper cheered.

"Yeah! Did you see the black eyes Dickie had!" Mabel laughed. "He'll be avoiding cameras for weeks!"

"Who says it never ends well to see old friends?" Stan asked and opened the cabinet to get started on a late dinner.

Over baked beans and hotdogs, or Beanies and Weenies as the Pines called them, Stan and Ford shared their plan with Dipper and Mabel, the map laid out on the table and the trail through Canada's islands written in pencil. The kids were beyond excited. The plan was actually pretty straightforward; they were all going home to Gravity Falls together. After first exploring Boston (mostly so the nerds in the family could geek about American History), they were going up north past Prince Edward Island and the Gulf of St. Lawrence, crossing the Labrador Sea for the Baffin Bay, passing the Cornwallis, Bathrust, and Melville Islands, sailing over the Beaufort Sea, down through the Chukchi Sea, and dipping around Alaska and down south for America until they arrived at Florence so the Stan O' War II could rest for whatever remained of summer.

"This looks incredible!" Dipper said, eyeing the newspaper articles on monsters around Canada and the foggy photographs that accompanied it.

"I'm so excited!" Mabel cheered, shoving her cheeks full of Beanies and Weenies.

"Then we'll head out first thing tomorrow!" Stan declared.

"Actually, can we go see Ma first?"

It was like a record had screeched horribly. Stan's whole body tensed, his jaw was tighter, and he was gripping his spoon much tighter than necessary. Ford, however, looked like he was caving in himself, like an animal curling up in fear to hide, his back hunched over and his head a bit lower. Dipper glared at his sister. "Mabel," He hissed in his warning tone.

"What?" Mabel asked gently. "I miss her. It'd be good to see her again, don't you think?"

"Well yeah, but…"

"I didn't know you had met her." Ford mumbled with a soft smile.

Mabel grinned. "Yeah! We talked on the phone sometimes when Dad would call. And we went to see her once. She loves us! She's super cool! She's the one that told me I'd one day marry a really handsome guy."

"She only said that cuz you wouldn't quit begging her to read your palm." Dipper sneered with a smile. "You know all her fortunes were fake, right?"

"The love behind them wasn't." Mabel insisted. "Come on, can't see just go say hello? We're already here, we might as well. She'd be so surprised!"

"I don't think that's a good idea, my dear." Ford said quietly.

"Why not?" Mabel asked gently.

"Well… given everything that has happened… it would just be very difficult."

"So is defeating a triangle demon, but you guys did it together, didn't you?" Mabel said with a soothing smile. She covered one of Ford's polydactyl hands and squeezed it reassuringly. "I know it'll be hard, but I think we should go see her? Don't you want to say hello?"

"Of course I do." Ford said quickly. "She's my mother, but…" His eyes went to Stan, suddenly concerned about something. "Stanley, you've been very quiet."

Mabel looked at her hero to find him engulfed in shame. She wondered if he had looked like that after Ford was lost behind the portal. He held his head with one hand, his elbows on the table, and the strong grunkle she knew resembled a tired old man too much for her liking. Mabel's heart dropped when she came to the conclusion that she caused that pain. "Grunkle Stan…"

"Look, it's no secret I did a bad job of staying in touch with her even before the portal business." Stan started with. "I definitely went months without a payphone for her."

"You're not the only one to blame." Ford sighed. "I hardly called her when I was in college and nothing changed when I moved to Gravity Falls. Fiddleford was actually the one who encouraged me to call her one day the summer before… before everything happened. That was the last time I spoke to her."

"Yeah well, I kept that character trait in my portrayal of you, Sixer." Stan growled, his anger at himself. "You know her; she's too smart. One long look at me and she would've known who I was. You can't fool the best conwoman in New Jersey. So I just straight-up avoided her. I didn't even go to Pa's funeral and showed up early to see you two gremlins being born, all so I could avoid her. And I would've been too tempted to dance on someone's grave if I had gone to the funeral." He added.

"Stanley,"

"Kidding, that was a joke. The point is, just popping in after all these years seems too little too late in my book. So, no. sorry, but we're not going."

"Grunkle Stan," Mabel said as soft as a kitten and got down from the table to stand next to him. "I'm sure Ma would wanna see you."

"I don't think so, sweetie…"

"That's not true." Mabel said firmly. "She loves you both. All moms love their kids, no matter how many stupid mistakes they make, or how old and grunkly they get." She added, making Stan crack a smile that didn't last long. "It doesn't matter how mad our mom would be, she'd still wanna talk to us. She even forgave Dipper for breaking her favorite mug."

"Geez, it's been five years…"

"And you still haven't replaced it, Dip-Dip." Mabel said and focused her attention on both of the old guys. "If you two really don't think you can go see Ma, it's okay. We don't have to go. But I think you guys want to go, and you two need to go. She needs to know the truth, she needs to know you're okay, and even if she doesn't take it well, at least you can say you tried and you won't have to worry about it anymore."

Stan and Ford's eyes flickered to each other to use that awesome twin-telepathy they had or whatever. Or maybe they were just close enough to be able to read minds with a single facial expression to go off of. Either way, Stan gently ruffled Mabel's hair with a smile and said, "Alright, we'll go see Ma tomorrow after breakfast."

Mabel wanted to cheer and shout and punch the air victoriously, but she managed to catch herself in time and only allowed a quiet "yes!" before hugging Grunkle Stan and saying, "I'm so proud of you guys." She quickly hugged Ford before returning to her dinner, choosing to ignore the star-struck looks on the old men's faces.

~~~~~~~~~~

A few hours later and Mabel was sitting criss-cross in her hammock, wearing pajamas while knitting. The gentle clicking of her needles harmonized with the gentle rocking of the waves and her grunkle's humming from the tiny bathroom. Dipper was above her, reading a book quickly before bed, and when Stan emerged from the bathroom in his boxers and undershirt, taking his gray hair damp with a towel, and saw that his twin wasn't preparing for bed, he growled, "Sixer, do I have to drug you again?! Get down here!"

"I'm coming!" Ford called back.

Stan rolled his eyes. "Yeesh. You kids settled in okay?"

"Yeah," Dipper said casually.

"I love these hammocks!" Mabel said, rocking hers a little with joy. "Maybe we should replace the mattresses at the Shack with these!"

Stan chuckled as he threw his towel at the foot of the bunk bed and he noticed the beautiful deep violet yarn in his niece's lap. "Whatcha workin' on, Mabel? 'Nother sweater?"

"Yup!" Mabel said proudly to show a thick and cozy purple sweater that was a little more detailed than her usual creations. While this one lacked any pictures or designs, the sleeves had been woven with a special pattern down the arm and the wrists and neck were so thick and fluffy they resembled odd clouds you could sink into. "I wanna show Ma how much better I've gotten since she taught me."

Surprisingly, the mention of his mother made Stan smile, not frown. Ford came down the stairs just in time to hear Mabel say that, and they both smiled tiredly at their niece. "I didn't know she taught you how to knit."

"Oh yeah," Mabel said with a nod and resumed her work. "When Dipper and I were four or five we visited her for Thanksgiving with Mom and Dad and Grandma and Grandpa. I don't remember much about it, but I remember the delicious sweet potatoes with marshmallows, the flat's smell, and that Ma taught me how to knit. Mom and Dad and Grandma were busy in the kitchen and didn't want my help (I still have no idea why), and Grandpa Shermie had fallen asleep while watching the parade. Ma sat in this rocking chair, and at first I thought she was a witch and doing magic, making two shiny sticks click together to make something, but Ma laughed and explained what she was doing and asked if I wanted to do it, too. So she let me sit on her lap and follow her hands as we made a really pretty blanket until dinner was ready. Ma even let me take some yarn and a pair of needles home with me, and I haven't stopped knitting since."

Stan smiled, sitting on the bottom bunk. "That's really cool, sweetie."

Ford, who had slipped into the bathroom to change into his blue flannel pajamas, called from the other side of the door, "She will love a Mabel Pines original."

"Thanks. I hope so." Mabel inspected her work and gave a quick nod of approval before packing it away in her suitcase and curling up for bed.

One by one everyone settled down. Ford emerged with clean teeth and pajamas and climbed up to his bed, putting his glasses up on a shelf by his head. Dipper turned off the lamp on top of the dresser, leaving only Stan's nightstand-lamp on, and he set his book down and began to settle. Stan was just about to turn off his lamp, but Mabel sat up and gasped, "Wait! You guys! Tell us about the Jersey Devil!"

Dipper sat up excitedly and sided with his twin. "Yeah! When were you gonna tell us that one, anyways?"

Stan shrugged with a cheeky smile and Ford chuckled. "Oh come on, you don't wanna hear about the first pair of Mystery Twins." Stan teased, waving the idea away.

"Yeah we do!" Dipper argued with a grin. "Come on!"

"It can even be our bedtime story!" Mabel suggested, snuggling into her blankets and smiling at her uncle with those adorable eyes and cheeks no man was immune to.

"How old are you again?"

"Oh, just tell them, Stanley."

"Alright alright," Stan rubbed his hands together with a toothy grin and wiggled his fingers to begin the story. "The year was 1960-something in Glass Shard Beach, New Jersey. Summer had just started, but before we could figure out which urban legend to hunt down that day, Pa called for Stanford and was really mad about something…"

"Now, hold on, Stanley." Ford said, sitting up a little from lying on his front and listening to his brother's story. "Pa called for both of us! In fact, we called for 'Stan Pines' but we both knew that meant he wanted us both."

"What?!" Stan gasped, pretending to be offended. "Me, innocent and perfect, being angrily called? Never!"

Dipper and Mabel laughed, not sure if Stan had ever truly been innocent, and so from that point forward the elder twins told the story together, interrupting each other with corrected versions of the story and doubling the runtime, but the kids weren't complaining. Hearing about the old Freak Show, killing the Sibling Brothers, and basically acting how Dipper and Mabel would act on a search for the devil, was hands-down the best bedtime story in the history of bedtime stories, and by the time they had gotten to the part where Shanklin the Stab-Possum saved the day, Waddles was asleep on Stan's bed and the kids were shiny-eyed.

"And that's how Stanley and I ended up grounded for the summer." Ford concluded with, adding in a shrug. "To be honest, we didn't even mind. Solitary confinement is't so bad with the right prison mate. Pa was angry when Stan confessed, but I think some small part of him appreciated the honesty. I guess I'll never know."

"And that's when you two knew you'd be adventuring together for the rest of your lives and everyone lived happily ever after!" Mabel cheered.

Ford laughed at her adorable nature and commented, "I suppose we did."

"Alright, everyone get some shut eye." Stan gruffed as he laid down, gently pushing Waddles out of the way so he could rest his legs, but all that did was cause the pig to trot up to his hand and lay underneath it for sleep. "G'night."

Three voices returned the wish for pleasant dreams and Stan turned off the lamp. The room was soon filled with the gentle snores of the four Pines, escaping into a world entirely their own.

#GF #gravity falls #ford pines #stan pines #mabel pines #dipper pines #week 2: birhtday #june 15th #HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!#ANGST AND FLUFF

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thegreatfatnerd · 5 years ago

Text

How Fast Can Life Change

Summary: You're a spy working at MI6, O is the only person who you can actually stand, then he decides to leave. Now someone has mentioned the Doctor and you're curiosity is piqued.

Walking through the foyer at work, once long ago you would have been looking at the amazing architecture and building around however after a while it just got boring. You would always be able to tell the new people from the way they looked around in wonder, sometimes you just wished you could have that feeling again. However after years working at MI6 nothing could surprise you anymore. These days you didn’t even get to go out and have any excitement anymore all you seemed to do was paper work and have boring jobs. It probably had something to do with the fact you didn't have the best work relationship with the Minister of Chance, also known as C, but that is a story for another time.

Heading up to your desk you can see everyone in the same routine as always, the same people making the coffee, the same people flirting, honestly when you first started at MI6 you didn't think you would be able to get bored of routine. When you had just started you had been sent all over the world and the excitement was worth the paperwork but now all the paperwork just didn't seem worth it anymore, you were rarely sent on missions anymore.

No one else seemed to have the same issues as you most people said they enjoyed knowing what they would be doing tomorrow, knowing that they didn't have to worry about being killed tomorrow, there was only one person at MI6 who seemed to understand you and that was O.

He didn’t get sent on missions any more either and he had also fallen out with C. When you first met O you enjoyed his company, he would come over and make jokes about the people in the office.

You could remember some of his jokes he’d made whenever you would have a bad day.

“I am friends with 25 letters of the alphabet. I don’t know Y.”

He really was full of these awful jokes and if he could make one about a specific person it just made the jokes all the better, after all if everyone’s nickname is a letter it would just be a wasted opportunity.

That's when the pair of you had become, well friends is the wrong word as no one at MI6 were friends and they would all stab you in the back at the first sign of trouble, but as close to friends as you got at MI6. He would make you a hot drink first thing in the morning, you’d make him one later on. Sometimes you would speak to each other when you needed to bounce an idea, he would sometimes talk to you about some of his scientific experiments and although you had a limited knowledge of science apparently you somehow helped. Although you suspected that it wasn't because you had any great ideas or any ideas at all, due to the fact that he had to explain it out loud and that helped him. And in return he could somehow help you to make sense of something you had been staring at for hours.

However it could be due to the fact that you were the only person who believes that his work about aliens and the Doctor was important. If he ever mentioned anything about aliens or the Doctor to anyone they would always comment that ‘that’s not what we do. Leave that to UNIT or Torchwood.’ Hence the reason most of the other agents had taken to calling him ‘X-files’, for his belief in aliens. Even though, it didn’t matter to them when you would point out that neither of those organisations were still around. Although to be honest, you had often wondered how they could not think it was important, did none of them remember the cybermen and the daleks or Christmas day, 2005, 2006 and 2007 etc (you get the idea).

O smiled as you came and sat down at your desk, you noted your tea was already on your desk. You smiled back and nodded a thanks. He went through to the lab down stairs, while you made a start at another pile of paperwork that was on your desk, with a groan you organised the pile of paperwork and made a start.

About an hour later you noticed a lot of people were talking and whispering but you had no idea what had happened. You stood and headed towards the commotion when someone grabbed your elbow you turned to see O.

“What's going on?” You asked although you didn't know if he would know or not.

“It’s T and U, they found them at the bottom of the stairwell, they’re saying they fell, although you know this lot, they probably think someone killed them.” O informed you as he led you to walk the other way.

“So they’re dead.” You stated the obvious until another thought dawned on you “ Oh, shit, that means C is gonna give me all of their work to do as well.”

O huffed a laugh, “You got your priorities straight.”

The pair of you looked up when C walked through the room and announced, “Oh get over it, you’ve all seen dead bodies before. Now get on with your work, we’re already going to be behind being a couple of people down, let's not get any more behind than necessary.” He walked back out the room through another door that led to the staircase.

“Well he’s got his priorities straight.” You comment back to O, who then laughs causing you to laugh.

You noticed a couple of people giving the pair of you dirty looks.

“The alphabet is terrifying…” O said quietly so only you could hear, you turned around to face him and so that no one else would be able to see your face when he finished his joke. “A bee sea, sounds bloody terrifying.” You smiled at him trying to keep your slight laugh silent. O knew you had a habit of laughing at the worst possible moments and he seemed to enjoy exploiting that fact.

You headed back over to your desk as O left to go back to the lab. You tried not to think about the fact two of your co-workers were now dead, although even if you had to admit you wouldn't miss either of them they had never been exactly nice.

Later on in the day everything seemed to be back to normal, as if nothing had happened this morning. You decided you needed a break from your desk and computer as a headache was beginning to set in. You headed over to the small kitchen and made yourself a drink and made one for O. You headed to the lab to find he was the only one there which wasn’t unusual, before you had a chance to worry about knocking on the door he had seen you smiled and ran over to open the door.

“What did the caffeine addict name his cats?” You asked as you handed him the mug, he took the mug from your hands and held it close to his face as he inhaled the smell. “Cream and Sugar.”

He groans at that “That was awful, dreadful in fact, I hope you didn't work hard on that.” He smiled at you and took a sip, “Although the coffee is good, so I’ll let you off.”

You smiled back he let you in the lab, he shouldn't really but he always did, it was like he could sense that you needed a break from everyone upstairs or you might just kill them. If anyone could kill someone it might as well be a trained MI6 operative.

“If I could rearrange the alphabet I’d move U.” He did this where he would randomly start one of his jokes, you look at him as if to continue. “Cuz U are blocking the TV.”

You let out a laugh at that one it could be because there is no one here to judge you. “I shouldn't be laughing at that, after what happened today. Do you actually do anything down here or do you just think of these?”

“Both.” You shared another smirk as you both drink your drinks.

O suddenly turns serious. “Do you still hate it here?” You just look at him and sigh, apparently that was all the answer he needed to continue. “I do, well not so much the job as a whole but the people here.” You mock glare at him. “Well excluding yourself of course, you make a half decent coffee.”

“Thanks.”

“No what I mean is, this job is not what it used to be and since me and C aren’t exactly getting along I’ve decided that I’m going to leave.”

“Oh.” Was all you could say to that, you looked down, O was the only decent thing about working here but now he was leaving, everything just seemed to be more gloomy. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to the outback, I’m gonna continue with my research on the Doctor and all that other stuff.”

“When are you leaving?” You asked not really sure what to say in this situation.

“Today, no point delaying the inevitable. I promise I’ll text.” You smile at his words and nod. “Besides it's not like I’m needed here, no one even looks at anything I do. ”

“I’ll still send you anything remotely alien and anything to do with the Doctor, you know.” You offer.

“I know, but maybe not for a while. I think C is looking a little deeper at a few of us, including you and I. All the people he doesn't really like and I think he’s trying to get rid of us, so don’t you dare go, make his life miserable, you're better than me.” You have to smile at that.

“You don’t think I’ll be found at the bottom of a stairwell do you?”

“The two who died were some of his favourite, or at least his most loyal pets. I don’t think he had anything to do with them.” O replied.

You finish your drinks in silence, you take his mug from him to wash it up.

“I guess this is goodbye, then.” You mutter quietly.

“Yeah, I guess it is. But we’ll stay in touch.” You simply nod at this.

It's only once you get to the door and are about to leave that you say “Bye O, good luck.”

“You too.” Was all he said in return, but then you supposed he wasn't one for goodbyes.

-------------------------

A month or two later, you hear someone mention the Doctor, of course you have to learn more and also if it annoys C all the better.

O had talked about the Doctor often and when he had the chance to work with the man once before, you swear you could see him vibrating with excitement.

You are a trained spy, so eavesdropping was something you were pretty amazing at.

So when you saw C and a group walking down the corridor, you took your chance, you hid and listened.

“Over the past week, there's been a spate of attacks on intelligence officers worldwide, of every nationality. None of these attacks has been ordered by rival intelligence agencies.” You could hear C say, obviously everyone at MI6 was aware of this fact and was taking as many extra precautions as they possibly could. You had made a point of making sure O was aware of the fact so he could keep himself safe.

A woman with blonde hair answered him, “At least that's what you're all telling each other.” In total fairness you had made a similar point the other day and C shot your idea down in seconds, he really didn't like you.

The group now turned down another corridor and while you could still hear them, you knew a better place to hide if you wanted to hear anything from inside the office.

After a few minutes in your hiding place, between a wall and filing cabinets, you heard the group enter as the woman you heard before was talking, you decided it would be a good idea to get your phone out and record what was being said, so you could send it to O, this sort of thing was right up his alley.

“There's nothing of her to live. It's like she's been erased. This is beyond any human technology.”

C sighed, “Ah. I was rather worried you were going to say that. Doctor, the security of this entire planet is at stake. Can we rely upon you?”

No one from the group spoke and you wondered what that meant.

You listened as he introduced all the new tech that no one had been allowed to see. You could also hear how incompetent these people were going to be, it’s really annoying isn’t it when you spend years training for this sort of thing only for the job to go to a load of novices.

You listened to the conversation but sort of zoned out listening for important information, you already knew all that information about Barton since you were the one who did the research.

When you heard the woman talking, you presumed at this point she must be the Doctor, she seemed the most competent out of the group.

“We're going to need your best man on this. What do you call him? Horizon-watcher?” Now that caught your attention, that was obviously O, which was then confirmed by C.

“Ah, well, he er... He left. I... sacked him.” C sounded so insecure at that moment and you were loving it. You couldn’t wait to send all of this to O. Although O wasn’t sacked he left by choice.

“ The only person with an open mind about all this and you let him go?” The Doctor said with some annoyance.

“MI6 has never countenanced the possibility of extraterrestrial life. The country has other organisations that deal with all that. UNIT. Even Torchwood.” Honestly, right now you were wondering how C was still in charge, he was beyond useless, he was more useless than a paper umbrella.

“They're all gone. Oh, C! You took your eye off the horizon just as things were coming over it.” It seemed that the Doctor agreed with you on that point. “Don't worry. I'll call him.”

“You can't. He's off-grid. We can't find him anywhere. Believe me, we've tried.” Well that can’t be true because you have still been in contact with each other.

The Doctor turned to C, “Shh. I'm WhatsApping. Hi. It's me. I'm at MI6 with C. Crisis. Big crisis. Serious crisis. Big, serious crisis. And C says you were right and he's sorry for being an idiot.” The Doctor just told C to shh, oh you think you might just be able to get along with this woman.

“ I did not use those words!” Shouted, to make sure he was heard over the phone.

“Send us your location. Kisses. It's quite French, that, isn't it? Kisses?” Actually maybe you might not get along with this woman that well, honestly ‘kisses’, really!

Then you hear C going on about Barton, about how he used to work at MI6 and then went rouge, well of course you were aware of that, you had been on a mission with him, a very long time ago now and you knew that O had gone on a couple of missions with him, before C fell out with all the competent agents. It really was no wonder that Barton decided to leave, with the attitude C had, you had considered leaving and O already had.

You're pulled from your thoughts when you hear a bang and then glass shatter. You popped your head from behind the filing cabinet and could see C clutching his neck and him hitting the desk, obviously dead.

You keep hidden in case this is an attack or one of those creatures that everyone is talking about tries to attack.

The Doctor shouts for everyone to get down, obviously taking charge of the situation. They all listen to her and do as she says instantly, which you find rather bizarre, but then you suppose that these people aren’t in your line of work and therefore don’t have the worries about who you can and can’t trust. Although you have to say you are rather impressed by both of the men, since they grab the cases with the new spy tech and are using them as shields.

“Go! Get to the Tardis!” The Doctor shouts at them as they all scramble out the room to get to safety, O had mentioned the Tardis to you, many times.

Even though you stay hidden, you can clearly see the two glowing creatures which have been talked about so much over the last week or so. You felt sure they knew you were there, they seemed to be getting closer and then once they were within arms length they simply disappeared as if they had never been there. You tried to shake off the fear and the adrenaline which now coursed through your body. You were about to move from your hiding place, but decided since you weren't sure that those creatures weren’t hiding and waiting to attack, to send the video of all that had just happened to O.

You then headed out and with one last glance to C’s body headed down the hall, you kept looking behind you for a while, looking for those creatures or to see if you would be blamed for the death of C. No-one mentioned it for ages, you started to wonder if anyone had found the body, but there was no way you were going to incriminate yourself. You clock watched for the next hour, waiting to see if you would be able to go home, at a reasonable time. This week you had stayed and worked a stupid amount of hour and had a ridiculous lack of sleep, with all the disappearances. You were just about to leave, when you checked your phone and saw that O had messaged you.

‘Go home and stay there.’

Was that all? You sent him a video of C admitting he was wrong, a creature appearing, C getting killed and the Doctor all in one short-ish video and all he replied was 5 words.

Although in fairness you did have to suppose that he was probably busy working with the Doctor.

You replied ‘Heading home now, if the Doctor has managed to find you, good luck. Stay safe.’

You walked home as fast as you could without looking suspicious, although you did keep looking behind you and down every dark alleyway convinced that something was going to jump out and get you. You felt the distinct feeling of being watched and followed, but you didn’t see anyone. Although normally you would cut through one alley to get home, but this week you hadn’t, you debated whether or not to take the cut through, it would cut your journey down by almost 10 minutes. Normally it wouldn’t bother you but the message you had received from O worried you, and with all the disappearances, you decided it was better to take a bit longer.

You looked one last time down the alley, but while your head was turned you heard a noise behind you. Your heart stopped and at the same time raced. You slowly turned your head to the source of the sound.

What you saw made your heart just stop. It was O, although something about him seemed different, he was wearing a purple ensemble and it really suited him, but he also had a beard. He looked good, really good.

He was just staring at you, with a dark look in his eyes that you had never seen aimed at you before. You had seen it when he thought you weren’t looking, but it had never been aimed at you. His stare was getting too intense for your liking, “You almost gave me a heart attack. After everything that's happened recently surely you know not to scare someone like that?” He didn’t reply, he simply continued to stare at you, and now you were feeling unnerved.

You went a bit closer, but careful not to touch him, O never reacted well to touch.

He suddenly snapped out of whatever trance he was in, but continued to look at you, but it was almost like he was looking through you. You held out your hand so he could see what you were doing, “Do you want to come back to mine, or go and get a drink or something?” He didn’t look right and now you were really starting to worry.

He looked right into your eyes as he said “You should be at home by now.”

“Couldn’t get out of work any earlier.” You offered, trying to explain why you were still standing in the street. His eyes followed you and you decided to head home, you turned around and he stepped closer to you, so you decided to head home, taking the alley. Since you were not alone anymore it didn’t seem so bad to take the alley.

He didn’t talk the whole way, when you opened the door you let him go in first, while he made himself comfortable on your sofa you went into the kitchen to make a drink for the pair of you. You had so many questions flying round your head but didn’t know how to ask him, this was not the O you thought you knew.

You went back through to find him sitting on your sofa looking around the room, you held out the coffee for him to take and he did with a grateful smile.

“Why are you here?” You couldn't help but ask.

“You’re the one who invited me in.” He replied with a cheeky smile that you had seen before but something had changed, something about him was different.

You can’t help but smile, he seems more himself now, “You know what I mean, I thought you were going to the Outback, what about the Doctor she …” You stop yourself from carrying on when you see his reaction when you said that, you realised something must have happened. Although you wanted to know and ask, but you knew better than to ask, O was always a private person. You decided that this conversation was dead, “Do you want something to eat?” You try to subtly gauge his reaction, “I mean I’m not much of a cook, but I can order something in, your choice.”

“Don’t mind.” He was obviously deep in thought.

“Why is it I can bake, but not cook?” You ask yourself as you walk around the living room of your apartment. It was small, so it wasn't a far walk, you had a pile of take-away menus that had been posted through your door and you had kept them. You went back over to the sofa and put the pile of leaflets in front of O.

When you looked up he seemed to have snapped himself back out of his thoughts, ‘what ever happened with the Doctor must have really shaken him up’ you thought.

“I can cook but can’t bake, cooking doesn't require precision, when cooking you can just throw anything in.” He said as he went through all the menus. He suddenly threw the menus down again. “I need your help!” was all he said.

Obviously he had your attention but your brain snapped into action with what he just said, after all in MI6 people very rarely asked for help. “What do you need?”

“We need to stop the Doctor. Are you coming?” He asked, he was now standing by your front door, he pushed it open and gestured for you to go through, while questioning you.

“Is it going to be dangerous, do I need to bring anything with me?” You hoped he knew that you meant the gadgets you used when on missions. When he smiled at you, you knew he did understand.

“I like your thinking.” He closed the door while you headed for your bedroom, where you kept everything you might now need. You turned your head, O was standing there in your doorway not making any effort to cross into the room, he seemed to be waiting for permission to enter the room.

“You can come in if you like, do you need anything, O.” You had everything laid, for him to choose, he grabbed a few things, but you weren’t really paying attention to that as you were securing your gun.

He grabbed your wrist, “O’s gone, it’s the Master now.” You turned and looked into his eyes, and they were darker than you had ever seen them before, it was like he was a different person, and now, who knows, maybe he his.

He walked out the door and you found yourself following, you had been following him for a while when he suddenly stopped, you almost walked right into him. He turned and looked you right in the eyes and held both your shoulders as if trying to see into your mind, “Do you trust me?”

You were looking into his eyes as well, and you thought for just a second you caught a glimpse at the O you knew but it was gone in a second. “Yes.” You said barely above a whisper, the intensity of his gaze was almost too much.

“Close your eyes and hold your breath then!” You looked at him for a moment before doing as he asked, it was a bit of an odd request in the middle of a fairly busy London street. You felt the most peculiar sensation and when he squeezed your hand, you opened your eyes and found you were no longer in London but in an airbase somewhere.

“Where are we and how did we get here?” You asked, he was looking around, although you weren’t sure what for, you assumed it must be the Doctor.

“I used the teleport on the TCE.” Well he sort of answered one of your questions and you guessed that was all you were going to get, although when he saw your confused face he carried on. “Tissue Compression Eliminator.” But that was all he clarified.

He started to walk around looking around when you noticed some of the people who had been in C’s office earlier.

“You know that video I sent you before,” He looked at you blankly, “Oh, come on, I sent you a video with the Doctor and C getting killed and you’ve forgotten it, already!”

“I didn’t forget but why are you bringing this up?” He clearly wasn't amused, in fact he was snapping at you, he had never done that before.

“Well some of the people she had following her around are over there,” You pointed, the pair of you were hiding behind an air hanger, not wanting to be seen. “Do you think that they’re here with the Doctor or …” You were cut off before you could finish.

“Follow them, I’m gonna keep my eye out for the Doctor, let me know if you see her, but don’t be seen and don’t do anything unless I say otherwise.” He pushed you slightly in the direction you had pointed, you did as he asked, not used to receiving orders from him before.

You look for the trio and you suddenly hear the girl that the Doctor had brought to MI6.

“Use your shoe on the machine.” They must still have all the tech that C had given them, although when you slipped into the air hanger you could see that they obviously had no idea what they were doing.

“It doesn't make any difference.” The old man said, stating the obvious.

The girl spoke again “Cufflinks!” You watched as they obviously hadn't realised that there were lasers going everywhere, meaning they should try a different tactic.

You suddenly heard a voice you recognised and smiled, it was O. No, not O, the Master. It really was going to take some getting used to a new name. “Move away. Now! I've just had the most infuriating seventy seven years of my life. Have you any idea how hard it is to live through the 20th century? The places I've escaped from. Still... just in time to watch you all pay.” Although his words confused you, now was not the time to ask any of the questions spinning round your head.

“What's the machine?” The younger man asked.

“Conversion and transmission. We're transmitting Kasaavin energy around the world all at once into every device, hitting every human being and erasing all their DNA simultaneously.” The Master answered, although you may have understood some of those words, you understood very little of the answer as a whole.

Suddenly there is a light coming out of a screen and it seems to be taking over the girl, she states the obvious, again. “I can't let go of it.”

“ First her. Then you. Then you.” The Master pointed at them all individually, you had no idea how he had any control over what was happening, but then he was a genius and you know what happens to genius’ who never have their potential realised, they go bad. “Don't do this.” You suddenly hear the Master say, you move, just to see what's happening now, that's when you notice that the statue of the silver lady has stopped spinning. You have no idea what this means. How could you help?

That's when you see the Doctor again, followed by two women dressed from different time periods. Of course, O had told you she could travel in time but you seeing this was just proving everything O had ever said.

“Sorry. I think that might have been me. And I'll admit, it was close.” She didn't sound sorry, she sounded smug, never a good thing in your opinion, especially in your line of work. Normally if someone sounded smug, it meant a near death experience.

“No.” Screamed the master, he sounded like he was ready to kill, and in fairness after having only seen the Doctor twice while hiding, you felt the same.

“Two can play at embedding things in history. I knew the Silver Lady was important, and that you built it for a reason, but I couldn't work out why. So I traced its movements through history. And when I saw that Barton now owned it, we stopped by his office. Middle of last year, using your Tardis, I built a fail-safe into that machine. Planted a virus. If it ever detected the massing of a Kasaavin army within its systems - total shutdown.” The Doctor sounded smug again, now you couldn’t see her face right now but you could just imagine it taunting the Master. O had told you so many stories of the Doctor, how she liked to play the hero, but always at the cost of others. You could now see what he meant.

Suddenly there was a lot of light in the hanger and you worried for a second that you had been found, but you realised it must be the creatures that you had seen in C’s office, although this time there were loads of them.

“You're going to have to explain yourself to them, Doctor.” The Master didn’t sound as confident as he had earlier and that both annoyed and worried you. How dare the Doctor do this to the Master.

“Am I? Listen, you lot, I've rigged the Silver Lady to exile you back to your own dimension. This planet's off-limits. Oh, and you know that deal he made with you?” You could hear the Doctor, but you couldn't hear the device that was playing back a recording. “That's the trouble with modern technology. You never know when you're being spied upon.”

“ Don't... don't listen to her.” You could hear the uncertainty in the Masters voice but you better than to just jump out on instinct. You looked and could see that he was now being surrounded by those creatures. Suddenly there was a bright flash of light and he was gone.

You could see that the Doctor was talking to her entourage, and then she suddenly ran off with the two women in period costume. You move to stay hidden, and it's a good job because just a few moments later the Doctor is back but she is at the other door, the one near you. Then she and the entourage leave, not giving a second thought to the Master.

You sat there for a minute trying to work out what to do. How could you get him back? How could you make the Doctor pay?

You headed over to the statue once you were sure you wouldn't be caught, when you went near it, you could see a very small button, anyone else probably wouldn’t have seen it, but you were using all your spy skills and training, you pressed the button and the lady started to spin, very slowly. You kept checking no one was going to come, you could just picture the Doctor walking in and finding you. You noticed a buzzing in your pocket, and there was something glowing in your pocket. You had never seen it before, so you imagined that the master must have put it there. You inspected the small device, you could see a button on it and so you pressed it.

Next thing you're aware of is another flash of light, you try to cover your eyes, but the light is too bright, as suddenly as it came the light was gone, you felt someone grab wrist, you were ready to fight, except when you moved your arm you could see it was the Master. You had never felt so relieved, and you had nearly been killed multiple times in your line of work.

“I don’t say this often, but you did good.” That really was the best thing you had heard all day. You smiled, honestly seeing him standing in front of you again was the best thing ever. “Close your eyes and hold your breath.” You smiled, this time at least you knew what to expect, when you open eyes again your back in your flat.

“Fancy something to drink?” You smile already heading to the kitchen, you decide that this is not the time for tea, so you grab a bottle of wine and two glasses. The Master looks up when you walk in and smiles. He pours the two glasses of wine.

The two of you sit in silence for a while, taking in everything that's happened over the past few hours. “So, how are we gonna make the Doc… her pay?” You decided that saying her name right now might not be the best thing to do.

He turns to look at you, “What do you mean?”

“Well, she ruined your plans, you were right when you said that she claims to be a hero by crushing everyone around her.” You say with determination, you can feel a burning rage, just at the thought of what she’s done.

“That's not even the half of it.” The Master says, leaning back into the sofa enjoying his glass of wine.

“What do you mean?” You ask, with genuine curiosity although you're worried about what you're about to hear.

“She left me to the Nazi’s, she used my appearance against me.” He said although there was very little emotion in his voice, you could tell he was hurt. “You have no idea what I have been through.”

You couldn’t contain the horror on your face, you wanted to comfort him, but how do you comfort someone who has been through that. You were about to reach out and touch him, before remembering he didn't like to be touched. “She shouldn’t have, you didn’t deserve that, no-one deserves that.” You say with some conviction.

“It doesn’t matter now.” The Master sounded small, you would have thought he would have been angry but he wasn’t.

“Yes, it does, of course it does. We have an advantage, she doesn’t know you got away from wherever she sent you. What are we gonna do? How are we going to make her pay?”

The Master suddenly brightens up, looking at you, he leans close to your face before whispering, “I have a few ideas.”

You lifted your glass and he did the same, “Here’s to your revenge.”

“No, not my revenge, pet. Our revenge.” The pair of you smile at one another before both taking a sip.

#the master (dhawan)#The Master (Dhawan) x reader #reader insert #doctor who #spies #the doctor is kinda a dick #dhawan!master #dhawan!master x you #dhawan master x reader #dhawan!master x y/n #dhawan!master x reader

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vanchlo · 4 years ago

Text

The Assistant / Chapter Forty-Seven, “You Save Me”

*Not my gif*

Clickable Links:

- Masterlist feat. all chapters and Character Surveys

- Inspo tag

- Hecky Playlist

- Read on Wattpad

Word Count: 9.1k words

Warnings: Mentions of hospital care and sensitive topics

Music Inspo: To Build A Home by The Cinematic Orchestra (click to listen)

SNEAKYYYYY PEEK

That’s not even the worst of it, no, it’s not. The honey on his lips soaks mine with its sweetness, but it’s a feat in itself as I feel for the hundredth time the fear of never getting to kiss him again, or to hug him, or feel him against me, or to hear his voice. Like it so easily can, it shakes me to my core, and sends me jumping into his arms.

"There are far, far better things ahead than anything we leave behind."

- C. S. Lewis

“Yer sure this’ll work?”

“Yep.”

“Positive? Ya can’t be havin’ any doubts now,” I continue, raising my eyebrows at her.

“Yes, Harry. God, it’s just checkers, not a bloody court case,” she giggles, picking up a red piece and scooting it forward.

“I dunno, I don’t take competition lightly, bug.”

“We know,” she returns in a scoff, but then it falls into a frown when I jump over her piece, stealing one of her players.

“No fair,” she sighs, brow collapsing in annoyance as she sits back into the bed.

“Don’t be a sore loser now.”

“I’m not. Please, can we be done? I’m tired.”

“Jus’ sayin’ that ‘cuz yer losin’, are you?” I tease and she shakes her head, rubbing at her eyes. If that wasn’t her tell-tale sign for being sleepy, the way her eyes flutter closed when I stroke a hand through her hair definitely is.

“‘Kay, li’l one, we’ll carry on with our checkers game later. You get some rest, ya need it. Ya need yer strength fer P.T. ya have in an hour,” I tell her, turning around with the wooden board in my hands that I set on the sofa. Out of sight, out of mind.

“Okay,” she yawns, her voice followed by the electronic whirring of the hospital bed moving, or rather, the head of it relaxing. “You aren’t leaving me, are you?”

“What?” I question, turning around to find her eyes waiting for me. It confuses my heart how wildly she searches for me in a room, eyes almost always on me, no matter where I am - far or near. “Jus’ gonna go getta bite t’ eat and talk t’ Skye, hadda question fer her.”

“Oh,” Becks exhales, her cracked rose lips pushing out. “I don’t want you to leave.”

“‘m only goin’ downstairs fer a few, bug. Won’t be long . . promise. Here, ya want some lip balm? Yer lips look sumthin’ painful.”

“You’re looking at my lips instead of answering my question, Harry,” she pouts, putting on the entire show now with the pouting lips and squashed up face.

“Put that pout away, li’l miss,” I insist with a wag of my finger. “Jus’ noticed yer lips are chapped, ‘s all.”

“Sure, you did.”

“Go t’ sleep already. I thought you said yer tired?” I jest with a cock of my head, removing the cap to the lip balm before spreading it across her puckered lips. “There we go. Now, get some sleep.”

“But what if I have a nightmare and you’re not here . . again?”

A sigh runs away from me without my permission, “‘ll only be a mo’, Becks.”

“But, Harry-.”

“But, what? Stop worryin’, you’ll be fine, love. Kristi will be here if ya need anythin’ and I happen not t’ be,” I tell her quickly, but she doesn’t budge, and neither do those stubborn lips.

“I don’t want Kristi, I want you. Why can’t you stay?”

“‘Cuz I have sumthin’ important t’ do! How many times do I gotta say you’ll be fine, Becks?!” I exclaim, the firmness ringing in my voice. I watch painfully as the words hit her like a slap in the face, and the pout is nonexistent in a blink. A trail of huffed regrets paint my lips, and my hand habitually flies to my hair in frustration. “‘m sorry, didn’t mean t’ explode on ya there.”

“It’s fine, like you keep saying. Everything’s fine, I’m fine, you’re fine. My nightmares are fine,” she mutters, suddenly avoiding my gaze because apparently, her lap is all too interesting to look away from. “Just go . . do whatever you want. I’ll be fine, like you say.”

“Becks,” I sigh, regretfully.

“Go,” she responds softly, shaking her head. That’s the very thing I do when I watch the tear bead in the corner of her eye, and then slide down her cheek. Pleas of ‘no’s stab at my ears and her squirming only last seconds, before she melts like putty in my arms.

“‘m sorry. ‘ll jus’ text Skye and ask her, or see if she can come t’ me. Yer mo’ important, Becks.”

“You don’t have to lie to me,” she breathes against my neck, sniffles accentuating her pained words.

“‘m not, babe, I neva would. Yer always mo’ important, promise you that,” I coo, gently breaking up the snarls in her dark locks. “‘ll stay, I wanna.”

There isn’t a lie hiding in my words, or in my intentions, but it surprises me at moments how easily I’m used to being needed so much by her. It’s bittersweet, I reckon, realizing how much she needs me, all of the time. It’s flattering and makes my former self jealous in moments, but on the other hand, it saddens me immensely. I know it shouldn’t be that way, and I wish it wasn’t, but it is. If this is where she wants me, that’s all she has to say, and I’m there.

“Get some sleep, baby,” I murmur against her temple, pressing a kiss there while my hands leave imaginary stripes up and down the expanse of her back.

“I’m sorry that I need you all of the time,” she sobs, the tears warm and wet against the corner of my neck. Sighing, my bum finds the edge of the bed as I pull away from her, ever so painfully.

“Hey, ya don’t ever hafta apologize fer that, ya hear me?” I tell her, brushing my thumb along her chin, holding her face in my hands. “Me job right now, me life right now ‘s t’ take care o’ you. I wouldn’t want t’ be doin’ nuthin’ else, I wantcha t’ know that. ‘m not goin’ back t’ work ‘til yer all betta and can take care o’ yerself, doesn’t matta how long. ‘m not goin’ anywhere, eitha, Becks . . I need ya bloody bad too, I reckon, and that’s okay.”

“You’re kind of the best, you know that?” she just barely smiles, leaning into my hand and peering up at me with those eyes that are to die for.

I don’t even care how premature it is, I hope every single one of my bloody kids has her eyes, but oh, the ways that they melt me. They sure would get away with loads, seeing how much she gets away with just by using those eyes on me.

“Only kinda?” I tease and the truest giggle I’ve heard grace her lips in days sings to my ears.

“Maybe more than a little,” she winks. Her cheeks are wet and salty beneath my lips, bunching up with a smile as her song fills the air. Pulling away, she knuckles at her eyes while a yawn leaves her next.

“Get some rest now, Becks, ya need it.”

“I know.”

“I won’t go anywhere,” I promise her aloud, and her smile says all of the ‘thank you’s that I could ever need, I reckon. That thought fills with doubts when she presses the sweetest of pecks to my lips, her gratitude painting my insides.

“Yer welcome,” I whisper against her mouth, leaving my own kiss on the top of her head, smiling contently at the image of her sinking into her covers while sleep calls for her.

“I need a ‘yes,’ not a bloody ‘maybe.”

“Okay, I meant yes.”

“No, ya didn’t. Bloody hell, are ya confusin' or what? I needa straight answer here, and quick!”

“Yes, yes, yes. Is that enough for you?”

“Yes,” I return, grinning at the eye roll I receive from her.

“Dammit, Harry, like you’re any better,” she tuts with a disapproving shake of her head. Playing with the ends of her green crimped hair, a thought bounces around behind her eyes, and then they lift to me. “Yeah, it’ll work, if you’re quick about it. I dunno how long she’ll want to do it, you know. I hope you get lucky today.”

“Fook, me too, I hope. Already a day late.”

“Yeah, so get a move on it, bud,” Skye quips with a wink, both of our gazes pulled over to the curtains that part and the sight that we find. “All ready, Ree?”

“Yeah, I guess. I don’t know how much I trust your driving, though,” Becks responds, toying with her plum colored knit blanket folded on her lap. Her tired eyes flit to me and widen in a question, one I’ve heard repeated five times already. “You’re sure you can’t come, Harry?”

“We’ll be fine, Ree, we’re just going to go for a little stroll around the hospital. Get you some fresh air and maybe buy something in the gift shop, it’ll be fun.”

That doesn’t calm the quakes that have rattled her ever since we brought up the idea of getting Becks out of bed to take a wheelchair ride around. Well, that was until I said that it wouldn’t be me pushing her around.

“Ya, sorry, bug. I gotta make some work calls at last, but it’ll be good fer you t’ get outta this room,” I pipe up, stepping forward and sinking to a squat in front of her. “You go pick sumthin’ nice out fer yerself.”

“Harry,” she sighs when I slide a bill into her hands. She tries to fight me and place it back in my hands. My head shakes at her and I fold her fingers over it and give it a squeeze.

“I mean it, buy ya sumthin’ that’ll make ya happy. I don’t wantcha t’ bring it back, and don’t you spend it on me now,” I insist with raised eyebrows, winking at her with a warm smile. Her fight response shrinks away before my eyes and I nod happily. “Atta girl, Becks. Listen t’ yer boss now,” I hum, booping her nose and watching her roll those magnificent eyes at me. A blessing, it is, indeed. My hand falls to cradle her cheek and pull her towards me so I can encapture her lips with my own.

“How in the hell are you used to this already? It makes me wanna be sick,” somebody grunts from behind me. Laughs tickle both of our lips and I pull away from hers prematurely.

“Oh, sorry. Did I interrupt you snogging me sister?”

“Robbie, would you shut up for once?” Becks groans, recognizing the voice for me, so I don’t have to embarrass myself any further by turning around.

“Whatever,” he exhales with a slap of his hand to his thigh.

“You drive safe now,” I tell her firmly, scooping her hair behind her ear. “Lookin’ gorgeous, y’know, and mo’ like yerself e’ry day.” the whisper nudges the corners of her lips higher on her cheeks. I swear I catch a whiff of summertime stuck to her skin when I leave one last kiss with her.

“Okay, okay. Get a room, you two. We gotta get this show on the road. C’mon, Robbie, you’re in charge of her IV pole,” Skye huffs, tapping her fingers on the steering handles of the wheelchair behind Becks.

“Alrighty then,” I giggle with a squeeze to Becks’ arm as they pull away. “See ya lot soon, have fun.”

“Oh, we will, won’t we, Ree?”

“I don’t feel too good about this,” Becks whines sarcastically from a few yards down the hallway. My heart doesn’t quake, though, and neither does her honey-likened voice that soon dissolves into a happy giggle. The only thing that could possibly be better than this, I think to myself, is getting to be the one to push her down the hall and to bring her home, here soon.

“Not soon enough,” I muse to myself, walking back into the room and picking up the packet of photos. The tears fall, unabated, as I flip through them and wish for those simpler times before shaking my head, knowing I’d never want to go back to before. No matter how shitty this after is, I’d never want to have to wade through that heap of shit again to get to her, although I know that I would. I’d do it all a hundred times over, and then a thousand, if it meant getting to be with Becks.

I hope more than anything I get to say that again one day, and hopefully with grandkids on my lap and gray in my hair, because sometimes I’m convinced I’m far too young to be hurting like this. I couldn’t care less if I’m too young to love this hard, though, and never would I wish that away. If two and some odd years gave me all of this, I can only dream of what tens and tens of years could bring me, and us.

Bloody hell, don’t get too ahead of yourself there, Harry, I chastise myself as I arrive at another picture, knowing fully well that this is one I’d show our kids, and our grandkids.

Too late, that train has already left that station. You’re about two years too late, but then again, so was I.

“Did you bring it?”

“Yep, I hid it in your room. I wrapped it too, don’t worry. It’s all ready, Ree.”

“Thanks,” I respond softly, wringing my hands underneath the blanket. His face lingers in my mind and so does his voice, and the feeling of his lips. My heart feels heavy with longing, and with a swallow I chastise myself for missing somebody I saw ten minutes ago.

“I think he’ll love it, it was really thoughtful of you,” Skye murmurs from behind me while Robbie hums a tune beside me, pushing my IV pole. “How are you feeling?”

“Can we go back yet?” I ask gently, twirling the braided silver around my finger until it stills. My fingers drift to the soft beads surrounding my wrist that I twiddle instead now.

“But you haven’t bought anything yet.”

“I don’t want to, I just want to go back. Please,” I sigh, my eyes falling away from the shelves of overpriced items that only grandmas would buy, it seems. “I just wanna see Harry,” I say to myself and only her, the knot in my throat stopping my swallow. Without me allowing it, my lips quiver and tears fill my eyes. A louder ‘please’ trickles into the air and I hastily wipe the tears away.

“Yeah, sure. Let me uh, just see if Harry is done . . You know, with his phone calls.”

Why do I feel like this?

Sure, I missed him all of the time before, and sometimes from across the room. Now, things are different, so different. I’m different, and so is our relationship, so you’d think that because of it I’d miss him less. As a matter of fact, I don’t miss him any less, I only miss him more. I blame that partially on the dull headache I always seem to have, and its underlying truth that everybody keeps blaming my overactive emotions on. Now, floors away from him and he’s all I can think about, and all that I want.

That isn’t very different from before, though.

“Okay, let’s go back,” Skye mumbles with finality to her voice. She thinks that I don’t hear it, like so many of them keep thinking I don’t hear or see things they forget to hide, but I hear the annoyance in her voice. It stings, and so do the tears, because they’re always too near nowadays.

My heart does a somersault in my chest and I feel like I can finally breathe again when we turn the corner, and there he is, standing outside of my room. This is all still so much that I’m not used to.

“Hey, back early, are we?” Harry rasps, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his skinny jeans. “E’rythin’ alright?” he asks, sinking down into a squat in front of me. My shoulders offer their slightest of shrugs in answer, but I know that he receives one when he catches the last bead of a tear on my cheek. “That’s okay yer back early. Alright, bug?” he hums against my forehead, pressing a long, warm kiss to my skin that melts from his returning touch.

“Yeah, just missed you.”

“Missed you too, li’l one. Yer okay, ‘m here,” Harry coos, his thumb rubbing stripes into my hair. “Thanks, you two. ‘ll uh, take it from here then. We’ll see ya later fer dinna, I reckon.”

We share our goodbyes and Skye whispers ‘it’s in the closet’ to me when we hug.

“How ya feelin’, bug? Anythin’ hurt?” Harry murmurs, sneaking a hand underneath my blanket to lace his fingers with mine.

“Head a little, but that’s nothing new.”

“Mmmm, reckon tha bright hospital lights didn’t help that. Ya should drink some mo’ water, and ya haven’t had lunch quite yet.”

“Yeah,” I exhale, almost automatically, pulling our joined hands out to lay on top of the covers.

“Ya look tired. Maybe ya should lie down fer a snooze.”

“No, I’m okay,” I respond, tracing the curves and lines of his silver, rose ring. My actions wander to his two other rings on this hand, my favorite past time as of late.

“‘Kay, let’s go back t’ yer room, tho’. There was sumthin’ I wanted t’ show ya.”

“Okay,” I say, lifting my head and that’s where I find his glowing eyes. They imbue me with everything I could ever want and need to feel.

“Promise ya won’t cry?” Harry requests while getting to his feet, and then disappearing behind to me.

“What? I don’t understand, Harry . . .”

“Ya will inna sec, bug. Jus’ you wait,” he quips, and the wheels start to roll. I wish the cogs in my head had begun their journey too, trying to guess at what he’s getting at, but only do they turn once he flips on the light when we’re back in the room.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Becks. Well, give or take a day or two. ‘m sorry ‘bout that, but ya had gotten sick and so I had t’ postpone a li’l. I hope ya like it, I know there’s not many, but . . ,” Harry introduces, his words escaping him. I’ve taken them all, I think, the sight in front of me blurring instantly until I blink and the tears are wetting my cheeks. “Now, we have loads o’ time t’ make mo’ . . mo’ memories.”

“Harry, I-I . . “

Memories I can’t even place hang from the ceiling of my hospital room, strung on purple twine are pictures of Harry and I from the last few years. With his help, he pushes me around the room so I can grab hold of them and admire them.

They’re all candids. One or two from meetings at the firm from my time as his assistant. One from the Halloween party of our costumes as Beetlejuice and Morticia Addams. A bittersweet one from my going away party from before. A happier one from Harry’s recent birthday party. One of the long nights at the hospital spent with him last winter even makes an appearance. Then there’s a giggly surprised selfie he took from a night at my house playing Scrabble from before. My lips quiver at the adorable selfie from our first date, and how naive we seemed, if only days ago. I laugh at our first kissing selfie from that Sunday on his sofa, right before everything changed. A mentor-mentee picture of the two of us Rose took from my first day back may be my favourite. That is soon trumped with an excited selfie in his office from that first day at work as a couple, but I find it heartbreaking to look at.

There are some that I can’t place right away in my mind and others flood my senses with the laughs and conversations we shared in those photos.

I didn’t think it was possible, but some way and somehow, I love him even more than I did just a second ago.

“Harry, how did you . . “

“Thought ya promised ya wouldn’t cry,” he mumbles, and only then do I notice that he’s crouched beside me with his eyes waiting on me. It takes me a second to place the tears welling in his eyes, and the bittersweet dimpled smile accompanying them. “I talked t’ e’rybody, and had them send any pictures they had o’ us. Rose, Asher, Myles . . Skye was tha biggest help o’ all, gettin’ into yer Cloud t’ get some o’ these. Yer phone was lost in tha accident, sadly, but luckily you were a smart cookie, and had e’rythin’ backed up. ‘s why I couldn’t go with you on yer ride ‘round jus’ now, I wanted t’ hang these up fer you, bug . . Now, I neva said I wouldn’t cry,” he laughs sadly, and the previous smile falls into his shaking lips. “‘m so glad we have all o’ these . . ‘m so fookin’ grateful I have you, Becks, all o’ these years, and so many mo’ t’ come, babe.”

“Oh, Harry,” I sigh blearily, falling into his arms that surround me. I’ve always known that it was natural, but I’ve never had something feel so right, not until him. “You’re the sweetest, you know that?”

“Nah, babe, you are. My sweetest Becks,” he hums, pressing a line of kisses along my cheek until he reaches my lips. At last, I get to taste the molasses that his words were always coated in, without fail. My happy giggles buzz against his mouth until he pulls away with his eyebrows askew. “‘m tryna kiss you, yer makin’ it all difficult.”

“That’s what I’m good at,” I murmur softly, my lips collapsing from the ironic weight of my words.

“That’s okay, wouldn’t wantcha any otha way, baby,” Harry says, tapping my nose with his finger. If that doesn’t spur the next onslaught of tears, the honey that swims in his eyes does, and it’s all for me. Every last drop. “Good things are difficult sometimes.”

“Who are you quoting, yourself?” I titter and his cheeks redden before me.

“Hush, you,” he tuts, and that he does with his lips against mine. There’s a new fervor to his kisses as of late, but at the same time, a further gentleness to them ever since . . it happened. It’s contradictory, it is, but I’m just glad he’s not afraid to touch me anymore. Deep down, I know that he has enough fear bottled up inside of him for the two of us though, and as if I didn’t as well.

His lips are sweet and slow against mine, and so are his fingers that trek through my hair, careful of the stitches and staples that he’s memorized the locations of. They mold against mine beautifully, locking together ever so effortlessly, and that is until thoughts ravage my brain and make them tremble. Flashes of bright lights, screeching tires, and clangs of metal against metal ricochet inside of my head. That’s not even the worst of it, no, it’s not. The honey on his lips soaks mine with its sweetness, but it’s a feat in itself as I feel for the hundredth time the fear of never getting to kiss him again, or to hug him, or feel him against me, or to hear his voice. Like it so easily can, it shakes me to my core, and sends me jumping into his arms.

“Ya, reckon we need a breather,” he jokes against my hair where his lips lie, peppering more kisses onto me. Tears spill down my cheeks silently as I stare at the windows frosted from the February cold, and obscured by the beginning blizzard.

We talked about our dreams of having babies together earlier today, and I cherished it immensely, but it only makes me hurt more. Harder. It frightens me to think I almost had that possibility ripped out of my hands, and what if it could happen again? He could get into an accident himself, especially in weather like this, or if something were to happen to him. Anything. A heart attack, an aneurysm, an allergic-

“What’s that li’l head thinkin’ so hard ‘bout?” Harry whispers, holding me against him. They keep coming, and it’s only a matter of time until he feels them still coming, hitting the bare skin of his neck.

I want it.

It’s early, but I know that I do, and perhaps even more now. I knew that I did before, or I thought that I did. I wondered, but never this much. I hadn’t wanted it this much, or dreamt about it so often. I almost feel mad for how densely it occupies my thoughts, but it made me sigh with relief when he told me that he dreamt of it too.

Babies.

His babies.

Our babies, one day.

“Becks?” he says, barging into my run alone thoughts. He really does it when he leaves my arms and I find those glassy green eyes once more. “You okay, bug?” he inquires, his large thumb swiping away the wetness painting my cheeks.

“I love you . . . Harry,” I sigh, feeling yet another tear fall. He catches this one too, and I brush my knuckle against his cheek just in time to rescue one that leaks from his eye.

“Love ya too, Becks, so much,” he wheezes with a contagious cheeriness to his raspy voice that tickles my cheek. I couldn’t count the number of kisses he presses to both of my cheeks, with a throbbing headache or not. He pulls a laugh from my lips so easily, like all of the other times, and then there he is, stunning me with that look on his face like I painted the stars in the sky.

“I really do, though - love you,” I continue, the passion sewn into every tear that wavers in my voice.

The dimples cave deeper into his cheeks covered with chestnut brown stubble, only making this sight before me all the better. A happy sound escapes his lips and if I look hard enough, it sings there in his eyes that have all of my attention.

“I know, Becks. And I, you, my baby.”

“God, you know how to make a girl melt, Styles,” I exhale, the fire burning hot in my cheeks, but it’s put out soon enough when the thoughts interrupt again.

The brash feeling of his beginning beard against my palm grounds me while I go through the motions, yet again. I was that close to never seeing him again, and leaving him forever. I don’t think that I could ever tell him, but it weighs me down with guilt that I almost left him, because each tear and confession of his breaks my heart all a little more.

I really have no idea what I’d do without him here, taking care of me, every second of every day. Tears spew, hot and heavy down my skin, as I think just a second too long about the burning hell that it would be if this had happened just a month earlier, or even this last summer.

I’ve lost count of how many times my family has said that it should’ve been worse, and that I should’ve had more broken bones, or something that Harry refuses to say - that I should have died with the extent of the wreck.

If I had still been lucky and this had happened at another time, what then? Would I have come back? Why would I have, though? Every time I open my eyes in that bed, I know that he’ll be there, right at my side, and the thought of that not being a given if this had happened at another time . . It sickens me.

If it had happened when he was with her . . would he have come? Would he have come and seen me during the worst year of my life, last summer or last winter? Would she have let him, that ex-girlfriend of his? What would have been my reason to live, if not for him? Would I-

“Becks?” Harry says, clearing his throat. “What’re ya thinkin’ ‘bout, babe?”

“Nothing,” I confess with hot cheeks, wiping a hand across them and looking to my lap.

“‘Kay, I won’t press,” he relents, stroking a hand through my hair. My eyes almost go into the back of my head at that, and I nearly giggle. “Looks like somebody ‘s tired aftall.”

Tired of all of these thoughts ravaging my brain, and keeping me awake at night, and from enjoying the moment with you, yes.

“No, I’m okay,” I lie, putting on a smile that even I know he’ll recognize as fake.

“Yer tired, I can tell. Ya need t’ rest up befo’ P.T. again later, we can do our gifts anotha time.”

“Harry, no,” I insist with a shake of my head, but I underestimate my strength. Squinting, my hand flies to my forehead that I clutch where it hurts with repetitive pangs. “I don’t wanna sleep.”

“How come, bug? Ya need it, it’ll help yer headache. Ya haven’t taken a nap this mornin’ yet, that’s not good.”

What would you say if I told you . . the truth?

How would you react if I said that I’m afraid to sleep, even with you there at my side, or in the same sheets that cover me? Even with the drugs they give me for sleep, I’m scared to enter my dreams, because all they’ve been lately are nightmares. They’re not even obvious at times, or anything like what they used to be . . before. Sometimes they’re about the accident, revolving around the bits of memories I’m getting back every day. No, they’re more than that, and worse. They’re watching you get married from afar, and not from across you, but from the clouds in the sky. Last night’s was looking down from the sky at you stare a hole into the wall of the chapel with my coffin a few rows away. I couldn’t get myself to wake you up when I shot up in the bed, gasping for air.

During the nap I took yesterday before dinner, it began all sunshine and daisies with me holding a dark haired, green-eyed baby with a dimply smile that cooed at you and giggled. Like they always do, it turned sour at the end, and it was me, inside of the dream, waking up from that being a dream too.

What would you say when I tell you that my dreams consist of nightmares about you, and what I fear I’ll lose with you, again? A chance at happiness, a future of wedding bells and babies, and so much more. I couldn’t live with myself watching the sadness devastate you when I tell you that one of the worst nightmares of all is dreaming about that day at work before it all happened, kissing behind closed doors, and muttering sweet nothings between each other. It wouldn’t seem like a nightmare, no, but it is when I wake up stuck in that hospital bed with a slew of things wrong with me, and you, deprived of sleep, snoozing on a bloody sofa. No matter how badly I’d like to, I know that I wouldn’t tell you, I couldn’t.

Worst of all, I don’t think I could ever tell you about the dream where the accident happened and you didn’t come, never at all.

What would you say then?

I’m not sure how many times he’s said my name by the time I hear it and respond, leaving my thoughts, only barely. I’m certain of the wave of worry that glazes over his eyes at my absence, and how it only adds up to me acting odd, and me being different.

“I’m okay, Harry,” I tell him, filling my lungs with air, but even that hurts too. I can’t decide if I want him to believe the lie or not, because one way would mean having to tell him about the bad dreams.

“Ya don’t seem like it, Becks.”

“I’m sorry,” I mutter, unable to look into his eyes any longer and not feel overwhelming bittersweetness.

“Ya have nuthin’ t’ be sorry fer, love,” he huffs with a shake of his head, and I’m convinced I could never say anything that’s right. “Here, wantcha t’ open one o’ me presents fer you.”

His chest rises and falls in a pattern, and I count the seconds until it lifts again, under my hand. His own lays limp cradling my head amidst his wheezing that fills the air. If I squint just hard enough, I can make out the pile of last minute gifts toppled on the bedside table. My insides warm at the thought of them, and the excitement that claimed his face when he opened the brown leather messenger bag I got for him weeks ago. It lived up to the surprise that etched onto my insides at the sight of the gifts he got me. I almost beat him in the first round of FRIENDS trivia from the game deck he got me, and he let me win our first game ever of Bananagrams. My happiness also awaits in the red and brown checkered Vans box holding my brand spanking new pair of purple Old Skool shoes. I could just cry at the memory of opening them all, and how my heart swelled into another size in that moment.

Lifting my eyes, his thick eyelashes flutter against his peachy skin. I habitually twirl the frayed string of his baby pink hoodie around my pointer finger, hearing his voice from just a few minutes ago repeat in my head.

“‘ll only lie down with you if you nap as well, Becks.”

I’m sorry, Harry . . , I think quietly with regret, my finger dragging along the outline of the peonies trapped in the vinyl square on his jumper. Van Gogh’s brushstrokes litter the image, and occupy my fingers as I trace the petals, the air around me growing silent.

But he succumbed to his exhaustion within moments, too soon to make sure that I followed through with my word. It stabs at my heart every time I see the bags under his eyes, think about how Skye said how much of a wreck he was when she told him, and fills me with so much guilt every time I ask him not to leave me, it overflows.

“I love you . . more than I’ve ever loved somebody, or something,” I confess into the unlistening air, surprised at the volume of my voice. “Sometimes I’m sorry for how much, and for how you love me, knowing how it hurts you to be here. I can’t even think about how scared you were, and how that is probably worse than how I feel, all of the time. I’m sorry you had to go through that,” I say softly, into the cotton of his hoodie, rubbing at my eyes that betray me with their misgivings. “I wish I could wake up and this nightmare could all be over, but I’m not even brave enough to fall asleep, because of the nightmares I have about you.”

“Wish I could too,” came a voice. Stilling, my eyes widen and then drift above me and find the sweetest sight of all. “Hi, bug . . I wasn’t s’posed t’ hear that, was I?”

My head shakes vehemently from side to side, disobeying the instruction I give it to stop before my head begins to hurt, only adding to the pain I feel at tearing my eyes away from him.

“‘m sorry, Becks, I neva fell asleep. Almost, tho’ . . . Yer not okay, are you, bug?” he murmurs softly, the sleepy raspiness clinging to his voice in places, regardless of how much I want to ignore it. All of it. “Rebecca Ann Holte,” he coos, cuddling closer to me and peppering kisses along my neck.

“I talk to you often when you’re asleep, but this time you heard.”

“‘m sorry again, babe, didn’t mean t’. Tellin’ me deep, dark secrets, are you now?”

“I dunno. Is that bad if I do?”

“No, ‘ve spoken t’ you befo’ when yer sleepin’. ‘s freein’ and less nervewrackin’, I reckon . . Ya want t’ talk ‘bout it?” he inquires gently, magic leaving the tips of his fingers that coast along my spine through my oversized t shirt. “‘Bout these nightmares? I have a feelin’ yer not tellin’ me e’rythin’ ‘bout them, and why yer not sleepin’ like ya should be.” the edge to his voice is blurred and smooth, unlike the firmness its held today when he tells me that I need to sleep.

No, this time, it’s like a gentle hand held out towards me, or a shoulder waiting there for me to tip my heavy head onto.

“They’re always there . . waiting for me. They’re not even about the accident anymore- well, not really, anyways,” I divulge slowly, words shaking with every breath I take. Guilt eats at my insides because of the fact that I can’t meet his eyes, but it’s lulled away with his hand rubbing circles into my back. “They’re about like, what if I . . didn’t make it.”

“I have those too, sumtimes, I know how awful they are, or jus’ even thinkin’ ‘bout it,” Harry croaks, and his revelation leads me to nuzzle my face into the crook of his neck, my favorite place forever and ever. “Dunno what ‘d do without ya, bug, I mean it. Me life’s nuthin’ without you.”

“Don’t make me cry, again,” I blubber against his warm skin, noseing against his collarbone.

“‘m sorry,” he titters sadly with a sniffle peeking out from his apology. “‘m sorry I can’t take ‘em away eitha, Becks, wish so badly I could. I wish mo’ than anythin’ that I could make all o’ this go away, and have it be like befo.’”

“Me too, Harry, I really do.”

“But I know that I can’t, and it doesn’t hurt less t’ realize, ‘s jus’ how it ‘s. But I know that it‘ll be in tha past soon enough, and listen t’ this, sounds like ya getta go home t’moro’ or Sunday. Best news ‘ve heard, well, since they told me you were okay,” he reveals, the happiness climbing his sentence swiftly. “I get t’ take you home, li’l one.”

“And will you stay then too? You don’t have to, it’s just that-,” I begin to ask, but he doesn’t let me get very far in telling him why.

“‘Course I have to, and I will, mo’ importantly. No place else ‘d ratha be, Becks. I can’t wait t’ bring ya home with me.”

“I think you’re my home, though, Harry,” I say, each syllable tickling his lips further up his cheeks after he turned my head to face his.

“Think yer mine too, Rebecca Holte . . my home.”

It seemed insurmountable, impossible even. I didn’t even want to try, and the pain pulsating in my ankle reminded of that ever so plainly. That all changed, ever so simply, when my eyes found him waiting there for me with the largest smile shown on his face. It’s kept amazing me, day after day, how somebody could have such happiness sewn into their features, and that it was all for me, and because of me.

“C’mon, Becks, show ‘em what ya can do,” Harry murmured eagerly, raising his eyebrows in my direction. “I know ya can do it, bug.”

If he believes in me, then maybe I could believe in myself too, I thought strangely as the throbbing continues. With a lift and then a plant, my ankle sings with stabs of icy pain, but I keep going. I breathe through each stab, each sting, and every debilitating wave of acrid pain until at last, I fall into his arms.

“That’s my baby! Bloody hell, am I proud o’ you. Ya walked all tha way ova t’ me, and without any help! That’s me girl,” he chuckles happily, moving the hair out of my eyes. “Amazin’ me e’ry day, you are, Becks.”

“I did it for you, all of it,” I smile through the tears, looking up at him and basking in the sunshine that is his smile. Finally, that sunshiney smile found its way back to me through those lips. I can almost taste the tang of it when I press my lips to his briefly.

“‘m so proud o’ you, every second,” he keeps mumbling repeatedly from above where I stand wrapped up in his arms, my tippy toes touching the cold hospital floor.

“I’m here because of you . . I mean it.”

“Reckon e’rybody was amazed at tha show ya put on in there, Becks,” Harry giggles beside me. “Dunno why I still need t’ feed you if ya can walk across a bloody room on yer own.”

“Because you like to feed me,” I say with a shrug of my shoulders, laughing when the forkful of saucy spaghetti touches my lips.

“Yer a baby,” he wheezes, feeding the last few noodles to me.

“Hey!” I protest, taking the fork from him and stabbing at the last meatball.

“Hey, you! Dontcha take tha last meatball, I was savin’ that.”

“That’s what you get for calling me a baby,” I whimper, not moving to bring it to my lips, and dragging it through the marinara sauce.

“Didn’t mean it that way, bug, y’know that,” he rasps, nosing at my cheek affectionately. “C’mon, it was me spaghetti anyways. This ‘s tellin’ fer tha future, innit? Yer gonna be eatin’ off me plate always, aren’t you, ya brat?”

“Sure, you didn’t. You really know how to suck up to me, that’s for sure,” I joke.

“And it works, doesn’t it?”

“Harry!” I exclaim, moving away and finding his laughing eyes. His head tips against mine sweetly, and I lean into him, brushing my toes against his under the covers. “Ugh, your feet always feel like icicles!”

“Good thing I got me li’l heater t’ keep me warm then,” he coos, his lips feathery against my temple.

“Since you’re sweet, sometimes, or just a good suck up, here,” I sigh, holding out the fork in front of his mouth. His grin grows and he leans forward as I feed him the last meatball.

“Thanks, bug,” he mumbles through a mouth full of food.

“Welcome. Ugh, I’m full.”

“Good, ‘s ‘bout time. Yer eatin’ mo’ e’ry day . . yer doin’ so well, Becks,” Harry hums, the clattering of silverware and plates filling the air around us. “Ya must be tired from t’day, a full belly will help ya sleep too.”

“Mmmhmm,” I nod into his shoulder, sliding down the bed until my head finds the safety of his chest again, nuzzling into that very spot where it always feels right.

“So proud o’ you and how far ya’ve come, Becks.”

“Thanks, Harry. I couldn’t have done it all without you,” I yawn, eyelids fluttering when his fingers find my hair.

“Ya keep sayin’ that, y’know. Ya said it earlier durin’ P.T. D’ya rememba?”

“No, what’d I say?” I ask, wrapping the blush hoodie string around my finger, seeing how many times it curls around until its end.

“Ya said sumthin’ ‘bout bein’ here cuzza me, and doin’ it all fer me . . Babe, what’d ya mean by that?”

“Oh,” I exhale, eyes snapping open quickly in surprise. “You heard that.”

“Ya, was I not s’posed t’ or sumthin’?” he giggles, but I don’t echo it, and it disappears like it was never there in the first place. “Becks, did I say sumthin’ wrong, love?”

“No, you’re okay.”

“Then what’s tha matta, hmm?”

“It is all because of you, and for you,” I begin to say, unsure of where I’m going with this, or more so, how to get where I need to go.

“What ‘s, Becks? I don’t undastand.”

“I’m trying so hard to get better for you, and because I have you there . . here. I couldn’t do any of this without you, Harry . . I don’t think I’d even be here if it weren’t for you,” I confess, my words soon growing wet from where they leave my lips.

“Hey, don’t say that,” Harry sighs, emotion caught up in his voice, but I know it’s only the beginning.

Hold on, Harry, it’s going to be a bumpy ride.

“But it’s true. I keep thinking that if my accident had happened even a month ago, or this last summer, I don’t think I would’ve made it.”

“Becks, don’t. Please, I don’t wanna-.”

“I’m telling you the truth, Harry,” I interrupt, lifting my head at last and finding his eyes murky with unspilled feelings. “I had nothing to live for only a month ago, maybe becoming a lawyer, but that was it. I know that I’m alive because of you, and because I had something to live for. You.”

“Becks,” he says, shaking his head in denial while his cheeks glisten with tears. “I don’t wantcha talkin’ like that.”

“I’m right, I wish you could understand, but I am. I’m not lying, I wish I was,” I whimper, pausing to sniffle and catch my breath. “That day w-was one of the best and worst of my life, even if I can only remember half of it. But that’s okay, because it’s the good half, with you. I had probably the worst year of my life just before all of that, before I found you again.”

“Baby,” he murmurs, his voice catching on his thick sobs.

“I’m sorry,” I confess with difficulty, tearing my eyes away. My hand wanders to his that I pick up and relish in the grounding feeling of its weight in mine, and his other that cradles my cheek. “It was, what with my dad’s cancer. It brought you back to me, and then just when I thought things were turning around, I had you stolen away from me, again. I don’t know what happened, we just stopped talking, and then . . “

The splashes of ink scattering his skin blur before my eyes, but I continue to trace the black cross and the bottom of the anchor I find underneath his jumper.

“‘m so sorry, Becks. Yer phone would ring and ring when I called, and ya didn’t get back t’ me texts . . but ‘s no excuse, I shoulda jus’ stopped by yer flat and-.”

“It’s okay, Harry, I had no excuses either. I should’ve taken Skye’s advice and dropped by the firm and said hi, had a spontaneous lunch date like we kept putting off then,” I explain, matching his words and yet, I know that in the coming moments he can’t match the pain the past brings back to me. “And you dated somebody else, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t tear me apart, even though I get to have you now.”

“Becks,” Harry croaks, sliding his hand out from under mine and pulling me against his front. “‘m so sorry, I didn’t mean t’ hurt you then. I really didn’t.”

“I know . . but it felt like it then,” I say, muffled by his shoulder that absorbs my tears.

“‘m so sorry, Becks, I am. I always wondered if you knew.”

“I followed you on Instagram where you posted pictures of her, Harry, of course, I knew,” I laugh ironically into his jumper, finding fistfuls of it behind him. A profuse string of ‘sorrys’ and pleas fill my ears, and it only weighs my heart down heavier, filling it with guilt. Filling me with guilt.

“This isn’t what I meant to do, or say. I didn’t want to make you feel bad because it’s all in the past and done with. I only wanted you to know how much I love you and that you mean the world to me- more than that, the universe, even. God, you still have to teach me how to be good at this talking thing.”

There, I make him laugh, and it burns away the emptiness that had begun to burrow itself into my heart. Without deciding to, I begin to as well, even through the terrible aching in my sides and the pulsating behind my forehead.

“I didn’t love her, y’know. She was neva you, she could neva be you fer me, n’body could, Becks. I dunno why I dated her, now that I think o’ it. I missed you so badly and wanted t’ be with you, but we kept playin’ phonetag, and sumthin’ jus’ happened with her. But it didn’t even last three months, and it was like we were jus’ friends, good friends through it all. She felt tha same way too, she said. ‘s not funny, but it ‘s . . When we broke up, she had asked if there was sumbody else, and without me answerin’, she said that she knew there was. ‘d neva really mentioned you t’ her, it didn’t seem right t’, but she knew ‘bout you somehow. She knew that I loved you, and not her,” he trails off, and I wonder if his sentences are eating away holes in his chest, like they are in mine.

“I still feel like a right git fer all o’ that, and how I jus’ tried t’ distract meself from what I really wanted - you. I couldn’t have you so I wasted time with her, ya could say. ‘m an asshole fer it, I know I am, not jus’ fer what I did t’ her, but what I did t’ you, as well. ‘m so sorry, Becks, it wasn’t s’posed t’ be that way. It was always s’posed t’ be you, jus’ you. ‘s been you, jus’ you, fer so long, babe. Even durin’ Amber, and ‘m sorry t’ bring her up as well, but it was you then too. Don’t think there’ll be a time when it isn’t you,” his forgotten past opens up to me through a string of words, no matter how much they sting, they’re there and they sing for me through his struggled sobs. The words leave holes inside of me, but the sound of his voice cracking with every other word fills them heavy with misery.

“I don’t- I couldn’t- You saved me too, y’know, so many bloody times, Becks, and jus’ this week. I couldn’t- wouldn’t have made it if ya died. I don’t wanna think ‘bout it again, but I know it. I thought ‘bout it in that waitin’ room, what ‘d do if ya had died, I-.”

It’s sour and then it’s sweet, the taste of his lips coated with tears. Melancholy sticks to them, along with nostalgia, and longing. I wonder what he tastes on mine, and if he hears all of the words on mine that I shush his own with.

“Don’t, Harry. Please, don’t,” I whine, my nose bumping against his in the half darkened room, but the lights of the monitors and tv screen catch the glint of tears that drown his sage green eyes. “I can’t think about you dying, even though I know that you had to think about it happening to me, and I’m so sorry for that. I will be for the rest of my life,” I sob, the words uncontrollable and swallowed by my tears, and then by his arms that guide me back to him, and the swell of his chest that I long for.

“‘s all in tha past, bug, let’s leave it all there. Shall we?” he cries, eliciting automatic nods into him. “We have so much t’ look forward t’ in tha future, and memories t’ make.”

“Yeah, maybe even babies together one day,” I say, the risky words hot on my tongue that sends them to him with a small laugh.

“Ya, we’ll hafta see ‘bout makin’ those one day too . . ,” he wheezes, and I almost roll my eyes at his cliche joke. “Ya should know, I want like five kids one day.”

“Oh, God, maybe I take that back now.”

“No, ya can’t take back sayin’ ya want babies with me!” he scoffs, and we both collapse into laughter. It feels good, although edged with bittersweetness that clings to every moment and word.

“How about four?”

“Nah, five.”

“Five Styles babies?” I murmur softly, thinking of him waving hellos and goodbyes into my back, like now, years down the road with a baby in my belly, or in my arms.

“Five, maybe a set o’ twins, knowin’ you. Who knows.”

“You’re going to jinx it now.”

“Good, I hope so. I reckon twins would be fun, I know a good one,” he titters from above, and I wish he could see the way that I roll my eyes at him in the least furious of ways. Silence blankets the room, besides the hum of the telly playing a FRIENDS episode.

“How would we tell ‘em ‘bout all o’ this? Don’t think I could bring meself t’ do it,” he asks gingerly, interrupting the rise and fall of the melodic air. I swallow, greeting the lump once again, and it only grows bigger at the sound of the struggle in his voice.

“I dunno, it’s just another one of the times you saved me.”

“And that you saved me as well, bug, don’t ferget that,” Harry coos, and I nod, letting my wet eyes flutter closed. “I can’t even count how many times you’ve saved me ova tha years, Becks. I can only imagine how many mo’ will come, and how good o’ a mum you’d make.”

I let sleep start to take me away, knowing fully well that I’ll soon greet the nightmares, and that he’ll be there to wake me up from them and to sing to me until I stop crying.

“Hey, don’t you fall asleep jus’ yet, li’l one.”

“Mmmm,” I moan into his chest, rubbing at my exhausted eyes. “What? I was falling asleep.”

“��m sorry, my love, but I have one last Valentine’s gift fer you,” Harry wheezes happily. Silently, something tells me that this is important, something worthy of eye contact.

“What now, Styles? You already hit it out of the park with the games and shoes,” I say, but my laugh falls silent against his dimpled smile. I think that his thumb strokes the faint divot in one of my cheeks, my dimple nothing compared to his famous set. His voice is absent from his lips but the honey and sunshine that pool in his eyes tell me more than words could ever say.

“Was wonderin’ if ya’d be me girlfriend, Becks. Y’know, officially,” Harry titters. Now, his tears taste sweet and reminiscent of honey once my lips find his again, speaking confirmations against his mouth. “I reckon ‘girlfriend and boyfriend’ need t’ come befo’ babies and all o’ that one day,” he whispers, the sweetest of words wafting across my face.

“Of course, but only if you’ll be my boyfriend. What d’ya say?”

“‘ve only been dreamin’ o’ tha day I get t’ call meself yer boyfriend fer years and years, Rebecca Holte,” he confesses, memories and unspoken words held in his kisses that he covers my face with. My favorite sound in the entire universe tickles my ears as it flows from his lips and across my face.

I smile in my sleep, knowing that Harry will always be there to save me, and that maybe one day, I’ll be able to show him just how much I do love him. For now, I hope for dreams filled with green-eyed babies held in his arms, and the tangible dream of getting to go home with him soon to start our next chapter.

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