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queenshelby · 4 years ago

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Foreigner – Peaky Blinder Fanfic

PART ONE – WAY BACK HOME

Featuring: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warning: Angst (don’t worry, Smut is coming in the next part for you dirty minded people)

Words: 3462

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Your Story

It has been 8 years since you left Birmingham and embarked on a journey to the US with your parents. Your brother was killed by Arthur Shelby, after having stolen from the Lee Family and getting involved in your father’s business.

It wasn’t your brother’s fault that he resorted to stealing. In fact, it was all he had ever known since he has been a young boy. He was stealing to feed you and your mother while your father was preoccupied interfering with Thomas Shelby’s gambling business.

Over 8 years ago, your father was employed by the Shelby Family to fix races but, at the same time, he was trying to skim money from their forged winnings and it wasn’t long after your brother’s and father’s actions had come to the attention of Thomas Shelby that a war emerged between your family and the Shelby gang.

The war was bitter and a threat made by Thomas Shelby against your father’s life caused your family to flee to a safe haven offered by your aunt Esme Bortelli in Atlanta. Just like you and your parents, your aunt was gypsy. But, she made a deal with the devil after her first husband had passed away from Spanish flu.

Her second husband was no other than Luigi Bortelli. Luigi had a direct affiliation with the North Italian Mafia in Atlanta. He enjoyed the dangers in life. Handling and dealing with cocaine, heroin and alcohol, which, at the time, was prohibited in the US.

Luigi was shot a few years ago by police along with his brother Pepe while collecting a shipment of cocaine from the port of Atlanta. Following Luigi’s death, your aunt Esme took over the family business and dealings with the North Italian Mafia. Unfortunately for her, she wasn’t taken serious by some of her suppliers. It wasn’t common for a woman to be in this kind of business. Your father became her assistant, taking shipments and dealing with suppliers on her behalf. Nonetheless, it was her all along who pulled the strings.

The business ran smoothly for several years until, one day, a dispute occurred between the Sabini family and yours. As a result, your mother was shot in your family home by Sabini’s men. Giovanni Sabini resided in the UK and was Darby Sabini’s brother. He had family in the US which operated a rival gang importing the same products as your aunt Esme. After your aunt Esme ignored several of Giovanni’s demands to cease dealings in the area and accept shipments from the UK arranged by the Changratta family, he sent his men to send a message and kill Esme’s sister (your mother).

Esme and your father soon declared war on Giovanni Sabini but, your family’s local men turned against Esme as word came to them that Sabini had turned on the Changratta Family and, as a result, Luca Changratta was killed in Birmingham and the Peaky Blinders took over the supply of alcohol and cocaine to Atlanta exclusively to Giovanni Sabini’s men. This caused the Sabini family to gain greater power within the Atlanta area, much to the disadvantage of your aunt and the North Italian Mafia.

Your aunt Esme saw only one option to rectify this issue and replenish her standing within the North Italian Mafia. She sent your father back to Birmingham to make Thomas Shelby an offer he could not refuse, namely an alliance between the Peaky Blinders and the North Italian Mafia, guaranteeing exclusive supply to the entire West Coast.

Since you had become interested in the family business over the past few years and your aunt had taught you a lot about her supply and trading operations, you demanded that you join your father during his trip to Birmingham. Whilst your father had grown fearless and calculating, you were smart and practical which is just what your aunt Esme needed in order to represent her business.

Unfortunately, whilst your aunt was suspicious of your father’s recent behaviour, what she didn’t know was that he had a very different plan of his own. He wanted revenge on both, Arthur Shelby and Giovanni Sabini, even if it would cost him his own life. For this reason, your father was against you joining him on this journey. You were his only living child.

But, aunt Esme demanded that you join him and so you went.

‘Watch him and his men and report back to me’ were your aunt’s words as you left the port of Atlanta.

Back in Birmingham

After a three day boat journey, you and your father arrived in Birmingham along with several of his men.

Three of your men were questioned by border security upon their arrival. Fortunately for them, aunt Esme’s men in Birmingham had already made pay offs and you were escorted to your hotel.

Birmingham has changed a lot since you have been there last. Most factories, bars and residences were owned by Shelby Company Limited and even the hotel you were staying at was owned by Thomas Shelby.

You never met anyone from the Shelby family. Your father and older brother both worked for the Shelbys for many years until conflict emerged between them. Nonetheless, during this time, your father shielded you and your mother from these dealings. He always said there is no place for women in this business. It therefore comes as a surprise that your father works for aunt Esme now.

You know that your aunt does not trust your father. She always tells you that your father is a danger to himself and you have begun to believe it. His anger and hate has taken over in the last few months and that is why aunt Esme has sent you.

As you finally arrived at the hotel, it became clear to you that Shelby family already had tabs on you. A note from Thomas Shelby was left at reception for your father. It was an invitation to a charity event.

‘Smart’ is what you thought when you read it. Thomas Shelby obviously doesn’t know whether or not he can trust your father. What better place to discuss their business could there be than a public event where your father and his men cannot strike against him. After all, most men in Birmingham work for the Shelby family in one way or another.

Your father, however, was not impressed with the invitation and liaised with two of his men. A message was to be delivered to Thomas Shelby at the Garrison. You only ever heard of the Garrison in conjunction with your brother’s death. This is where he was killed just over 8 years ago by members of the Lee family. But, despite this, you recalled your promise to aunt Esme, to keep an eye on your father and his men.

Shortly after the two men had left to the Garrison, you sneaked out of the hotel.

The Garrison

‘Excuse me sir, how do I get to the Garrison?’ you asked the delivery driver who was delivering Gin to the hotel you were staying at.

‘The Garrison? This is really no good place for you Love’ the delivery driver said.

‘I have business to attend to at the Garrison. I am new in town and am looking to promote a new type of champaign to all of the establishments in the area’ you explained.

‘I don’t think you are going to have much luck at the Garrison Love, but I can take you there after I finish unpacking these. It’s my next delivery stop’ the man said.

‘Thank you sir, I much appreciate it’ you said as you climbed into the man’s truck.

The drive was less than 10 minutes and after you gave the man a couple of pounds for his troubles, you climbed out of the truck and went inside the Garrison while keeping a careful lookout.

The Garrison was full of drunk men, some steel factory workers and some men nicely dressed in suits.

Unfortunately for you, you could not see the men your father had sent. You carefully removed your hat and ordered a glass of whiskey.

‘Top shelf please sir’ you said as you sat down at the quite end of the bar. To your surprise, the bar tender didn’t question you or your choice of drink. It wasn’t common for women to drink in establishments like this. In fact, it was prohibited.

You decided to stay for maybe ten or fifteen minutes to see whether your father’s men would turn up. You took a careful look around every two minutes or so but the men couldn’t be found.

There was, however, one man who caught your eye. He was incredibly well dressed for a place like this and accompanied by a beautiful blonde woman. It was obvious to you that the woman wasn’t his wife. In fact, she looked just as much out of place as you did.

His eyes were blue like the sky on a sunny day in Atlanta and his hands were perfect, clean and masculine as if they had been crafted by an artist.

You couldn’t stop starring at him. His charisma was almost overwhelming.

It wasn’t long until he noticed you too. His eyes gazed over to you several times, much to the dislike of his female companion.

His looks were intimidating and you didn’t know whether he noticed you starring at him or whether he had taken an interest in you. Probably the earlier, considering that he was obviously much older than you.

After 15 minutes had passed and you felt surprisingly awkward in this man’s presence, you quickly finished your drink and decided to call it a night. You did not think that your father’s men were going to appear any time soon and it was getting quite late.

As you left, you noticed two drunk men following you.

“Ey Love, how much for the both of us?” one of the men said as he followed you.

‘In your dreams’ you said with laughter as you turned around for a brief second as, all of a sudden, the man grabbed your wrist.

‘Feisty… I like feisty girls’ the man said as he pulled you closer towards him while his acquaintance approached you and ran his hand over your blouse.

‘Fuck off and leave me alone’ you responded angrily and with some ignorance towards their actions.

‘Oh, you like it rough love?’ one of the men shouted in return while the other pushed you against the wall.

You tried to reach for your gun which was pinned to your left upper leg as, suddenly, you heard a gunshot from near the entrance to the Garrison.

It was a dark and foggy night and you couldn’t see much more than a shadow of a man approaching you and the attackers.

‘The lady said that she wants to be left alone’ another man said from the distance while pointing a gun at the attackers.

‘Piss off man’ one of the attackers yelled in a rather drunken tone, ignoring the first gunshot that had already been fired by the mysterious man.

Suddenly, you heard a second gun shot and a loud scream from one of the drunk men right beside you. He had been shot into his left knee and was in agony.

‘The next time I will aim higher’ the gunman said as he approached you closely, just before the uninjured drunk man scrambled and ran off, knocking you down onto the gravel in the process, while the other man began pleading for his life.

‘I am… I am very sorry please. I won’t…It will not happen again’ the man said. The tone of his voice was frightened and you could tell that the men knew each other.

‘I will not see you and your friend at the Garrison again, you understand?’ the gunman said angrily before allowing the injured attacker to leave.

You were lost for words. This mysterious man may have just saved your life.

Getting to know the Stranger

‘Are you alright, Miss?’ the man asked as he put away his gun and reached for your hand to help you up.

‘Thank you, I am fine’ you said quietly.

As you looked up towards the mysterious man you noticed that he was the man you had seen before, at the bar, with the beautiful blonde lady by his side.

With thoughts racing through your head, you almost didn’t notice that your legs were shaking and you had an awful pain in your left knee.

‘You are bleeding’ the man said, but you barely noticed the red staining on your white skirt. It was like you were hypnotised by this stranger.

‘Common, lets get this sorted out for you, ey?’ the man said with a caring voice and, without further words, you followed his lead back to the Garrison.

The Garrison was still as busy as when you had left and no one really noticed you walking in.

‘Bring us some bandages and whiskey. Top shelf, two glasses’ the man said before guiding you to a private room next to the bar.

‘Thank you for your help but I am fine, really’ you said to him as he pulled out a chair from beside the table in the middle of the room.

‘If you do not get this cleaned out, it will get infected. Now sit down love’ the man instructed as the barmaid brought bandages and a bottle of top shelf Irish whisky with two glasses.

The man poured you a glass of whiskey and handed it to you. Without words, you took a hasty sip knowing that, what was about to follow, would hurt. Your mother used to clean out your wounds with whisky on numerous occasions after you had fallen off your bicycle, just not as expensive as the bottle that was standing on the table right in front of you at this moment.

Without warning, the man kneeled down in front of you and lifted up your skirt just above your knees. He poured a good amount of whisky onto your wound, which caused you to clinch your teeth and some tears escape from your eyes. He then used his handkerchief to carefully pull some pieces of gravel and broken glass from your knee before wiping the wound again with some more whiskey.

‘So, tell me, what brings a girl like you to a place like this? You are clearly not from here’ the man asked as he wrapped your knee up with a bandage.

‘Business’ you clinched as you grabbed the bottle of whiskey from the table and poured yourself another glass while the man finished bandaging you up.

‘Business?’ the man asked surprised as he sat down opposite from you while lightening himself a cigarette. ‘What kind of business?’ he added.

‘Export of products to the US’ you said carefully. You didn’t know who this man was so you didn’t want to reveal anything that could be of detriment to you or aunt Esme.

‘Now that is interesting’ the man said with a grin before taking a short pause. ‘Let me guess, you want to export alcohol to your country because of the prohibition’ he added.

‘What makes you think that?’ you asked carefully with a little pretend chuckle. It was not your place to discuss matters like this and you were surprised that he caught onto you almost immediately. Could he read you, you wondered, and regretted saying anything at all.

By this time, you were quite intimidated by this man and were contemplating to leave. On the other hand, you didn’t want to be rude. After all, he had just saved you from an attack.

‘What else could you possibly export from Birmingham to America? You manufacture machinery, vehicles and weapons yourself. This means you have no need for them. You are after something you cannot get where you are’ the man said as he leaned back into his chair.

‘Let’s not talk about business’ you said nervously. You felt as though you had been cornered.

‘Alright…let’s talk about something else’ the man said before pausing again. ‘Maybe let’s start with your name. What is your name?’ he added.

‘Y/N’ you said.

‘It is nice to meet you Y/N…’ and, before the man could introduce himself, another, older man stormed into the room.

‘They fucking got him, we need to move now’ the man yelled.

‘I am sorry Y/N, I have one of my drivers take you to wherever you are staying’ the man said before storming out of the room and grabbing two guns from behind the bar. With him were several men and all you heard was yelling and cars driving off within moments after.

Family Confrontation

A young man came into the room and introduced himself as ‘Finn’.

‘Apparently, I am your driver’ Finn said rather annoyed. ‘Where are you staying?’ he asked.

‘Renaissance Hotel’ you answered.

‘Alright, then let’s go’ Finn said in a haste.

This was an abrupt ending to an eventful night and the drive back to the hotel was rather quiet. Finn didn’t speak a word with you, not a single one.

As you approached the Hotel, Finn wished you a pleasant night before racing off. Your guess was that he was going to join the others for some kind of fight.

It appeared to you that life in Birmingham wasn’t so much different to life you knew in Atlanta. Violence, gangs and conflicts. It all was the same.

‘Y/N, what the fuck did I tell you?’ your father shouted at you as you entered the penthouse suite.

‘Father, I am not a child anymore. I can look after myself’ you said.

‘What is this, on your knee? Your skirt is full of blood’ your father asked worryingly.

‘I fell. It turns out that heels do not go well with all the horse shit on the streets here. A nice man at the Garrison helped me to get bandaged up. It is not a big deal’ you explained, not wanting to admit that you had gotten in to trouble.

‘The Garrison? What the fuck did you do at the Garrison? This place is dangerous, you hear me Y/N?’ your father said angrily.

‘I am keeping an eye on your men, something which you have obviously failed to do as they weren’t there’ you answered, causing your father to raise his hand at you.

‘Careful Y/N. This business is not for you and I wish that your aunt would learn to understand this. Get yourself cleaned up’ your father said before walking away.

And, so you did. You ran yourself a nice warm bath, knowing exactly that it will hurt, but this was exactly what you needed. Sometimes pain makes you feel alive and there has been a lot of pain in your life in the past eight years.

Your mother never got over the grief of losing her son while your father never gotten over his hate for the Shelby and Lee family. Your aunt Esme was the one who took you in, who ensured you were educated and who had confidence in you.

Being in business with her was something you wanted. You both felt that change was needed and the success that came with the business was something that gave you satisfaction. You were running her accounts for the past two years and you knew how lucrative this business was. But did your father care about it? This was always something you were wondering about.

‘Perhaps these questions and thoughts were for another night’ you said to yourself as you poured yourself a glass of whiskey and climbed into the warm bath.

It stung terribly but soon the pain went away and all you could feel was the warmth over your body.

Your mind soon drifted off into more pleasurable thoughts about the man you had met tonight.

You only ever had been with one man before and it didn’t take long for him to bore you. That being said, he was barely a man at all. He was the same age as you and studying to become lawyer. There was no adventure and no intensity. But, this man you met tonight, who was a fair bit older than you, he appeared to be far from being boring. There was some kind of intensity in his eyes, it was almost hypnotising. His voice was calming but yet intimidating and the thoughts that appeared about him in your mind were unfamiliar to you. They were intense. They were pure pleasure.

You kept wondering who this mysterious man was and whether you would see him again.

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years ago

Note

If you are still taking meet ugly prompts, sternclay 22 nsfw???

Here you go!

22: you’re on a date with this awful, awful person who keeps getting under my skin because my friend and I have been eavesdropping all night and your date says something that makes me snap … I thought it was a first date, not a three year relationship.

Note: I interpreted "first date" loosely. Slight content warning for mentions of blackmail, including blackmailing someone into a relationship.

It’s hard to tell where the sting of gin on his tongue ends and the sharpness of the pines through the window begins. The combination would invigorate him were it not for the conversation playing out at the other end of the short bar.

“...Last time, I’m not leaving.” The bartender, a mountain of a man who Joseph would love to climb, has been dealing with a persistent suitor for the better part of an hour. They’re the only people in the place; ski season is far behind them and summer isn’t here yet.

“C’mon, you’ve got no reason to hang around.”

“Yeah, actually, I do.” The bartender finishes cleaning glasses, turns to put them up.

“Don’t you fucking turn your back on me! I’m not through with you, oughta drag you outta here by your hair you cheap, dull-”

The next word is an unkind name for men who, like Joseph, prefer men in their beds. The bartender doesn’t respond, though his hands tighten around the glasses. Damn it, the world did not go for a second war just for him to let everyday evil slide by.

“That’s enough.” Joseph stands, moving to where the other patron wobbles on his stool, “him being uninterested doesn’t give you the right to abuse him.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, pretty boy.”

“I know that if you don’t leave, I’ll escort you out.”

The man throws up his hands, spits at Joseph’s feet before stumbling and stomping for the door, “Three years, Barclay, you’re throwing away three years in one night, and you’re gonna regret it. I’ll make sure you do!”

“Don’t think you will.” Barclay mumbles as the door slams. He’s twisting his dishrag to the point it’s ripping.

“Three years? Good lord, I thought he was just a run-of-the-mill drunk.”

“Nope. If you can call him tracking me down every few months a relationship.”

“I’m sorry.” Joseph pulls out his handkerchief, kneeling to clean up the spit, “still, I apologize for getting in the middle of a, um, lovers quarrel.”

“Please don’t, I’m glad you stepped in. Don’t know what I woulda done if you hadn’t.” His brown eyes study Joseph more closely, “have I seen you here before?”

“Through there.” He indicates the pass-through to the kitchen, “I come here as often as I can since the food can’t be beat.”

“Thanks.” Barclay smiles, starts wiping the counter, “yeah, Dani usually tends bar after the kitchen closes but her wife is down with the flu. Only seemed fair to let her take time to look after her.”

A big heart to go with a big frame? Joseph’s in big trouble.

“You, uh, you up here for the lakes or…” He’s now directly across from Joseph, sliding a fresh gin and tonic in front of him.

“I’m a private detective, a one man operation as of 1949; Kepler’s the optimal spot for me, since it’s between the mountain towns and the eastern edge of the city. That’s a lot of people who might need help. Not to mention lots of the residents closer to the lakes are wealthy, the kind where they’re always looking for someone to trail a straying spouse or track down the pearls their no-good layabout son sold for dope.” He lets a little bit of scorn enter his voice in hopes of letting Barclay know he doesn’t always agree with his clients, but that a man has to make a living.

Barclay rolls his shoulders, then leans forward, “any fun cases so far?”

Joseph pulls off his jacket as he thinks; if Barclay’s really interested, they might be here awhile.

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

He’s an early riser, so the banging on the door to his house (and office) interrupts his breakfast and not his rest. Joseph opens it and then fights to keep it that way.

“Detective Hayes. This is a surprise.” He smiles.

“I’m not here to catch up, Stern. I’m here so you can answer one, simple question: where were you between eleven-thirty and midnight last night?”

“In the dining room at Amnesty Lodge, talking with the bartender. If you need to verify that, just go to the Lodge and ask for Barclay.”

Hayes glowers in a way he recognizes as, “this won’t be an easy case like I assumed” and turns without a word. Two officers follow him. The third, Dewey, hesitates. He’d always been a pal. Joseph shoots him a confused look.

“Guy got shot in the woods near the Lodge last night. His only known contact in town was the bartender, and everyone else we questioned said the two had been arguing for a few days. Hayes thought the cook was a shoo-in to book but, well, his alibi aligns with what you said. Plus, some ranger Owens talked to said he saw Barclay talking to someone in the dining room at the time of the murder. Guess he was walking by the window on his way to-”

“Dewey! Get the hell over here!”

As his informant scurries up the hill to join the others, Joseph steps back inside to finish his toast. He only gets through one piece before the phone rings, summoning him to the managers office at Amnesty Lodge.

Madeline “Mama” Cobb sits behind her desk, whittling with the kind of force that suggests she’s doing this in place of putting her knife to another use.

“Barclay tells me you’re a detective.”

“That’s right, Miss. Cobb.”

“Great. I’m hirin’ you to find out who the hell killed his useless ex and is tryin to frame him for it.”

He sits down, intrigued, “I thought the police were handling the investigation.”

“I ain’t inclined to trust ‘em. Barclay can’t think of someone who’d set him up, and the police don’t think he was. Yet. But I happen to know there were scraps of a shirt Barclay owns on the trees nearby and that the fella who died had this on him.”

She holds a crumpled paper out. He unfolds it, reads, “Come to the old mill at a quarter until midnight. B.” He looks up, “meant to stand for Barclay, one would assume?”

“Yep. Whoever wrote that did a decent job forgin it.”

“How can you be sure it’s fake?”

“Because I got plenty of documents where Barclay describes a time. He just uses numbers, not words like ‘quarter until.”

“Did you suspect a set-up before you lifted this from the body so the cops wouldn’t find it?” Joseph tucks the note into his inside pocket.

“Course I did. You’re new in town, but there ain’t a person here who’d say Barclay is anythin but gentle. He ain’t about to shoot someone in cold blood, even that fucker.” She sighs, takes off her hat and runs a hand through greying hair, “that boy is as good as a brother to me. I know he’s been through some rough shit. He don’t deserve to get caught up in some goddamn murder scheme. So name your price, Mr. Stern; so long as it keeps him outta trouble, I’ll pay it.”

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He’s elbow-deep in Barclay’s dresser when the cook returns from his shift; he gave Joseph permission to search his room for signs of whoever took his shirt, but still, the other man doesn’t seem pleased with his presence.

“I’m sorry, but I have to be thorough. I’ll be out of here as soon as I can.”

“S’fine.” Barclay slumps down on the bed. After a moment he murmurs, “I know Mama hired you, but is there anyway I can convince you to quit? She, the Lodge doesn’t have much cash to spare this time of year. I don’t want anyone going without on my account and, and maybe this will all blow over if I just lie low, y’know?”

“It might. But until I think that’s the outcome, I’m inclined to agree with Miss. Cobb that we should work to keep you clear of this. And” he watches Barclay stand, moving to the window so he won’t have to see Joseph rifling through his life, “I promise that if it comes down to getting paid or bankrupting the Lodge, I’ll stop taking my fee. This is a good place and, um, it clearly means a lot to you. That makes it worth some belt-tightening on my end.”

“Thanks.” Barclay stares into the woods, then looks over his shoulder, “Joseph, I-”

It’s only because the mirror is above the dresser that he sees the black barrel peek from the trees. With no time to yell, he dives forward, pulling Barclay to the floor as the first bullet makes shards of the window.

“What the fuck?!” Barclay covers his head as another shot flies over them

“I think we just confirmed Miss. Cobb’s theory!” He pops up, fires once, and drops back down. Whoever’s in the trees isn’t expecting someone armed, so in place of another bullet they get breaking branches.

Joseph gives chase, leaping out the window and sprinting into the trees. Were they in downtown L.A, hell, even if he was still in Chicago, he’d have a better chance of staying on his target. But there’s no paths, no short-cuts, and every tree looks the same at this speed, cloaking the shape in the distance. Worst of all, he discovers that instead of dead-ending at a brick wall, he dead ends at a rockface.

Oh, and his hand is bleeding. He must have cut himself jumping out the window.

It looks like his investigation just took on a bodyguard element, and his wish to spend more time with Barclay could end with them both looking like swiss cheese.

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“You could talk to Duck.” Barclay finishes bandaging the slash on the back of Joseph’s left hand, “he works in the state park near here and knows a ton about the layout of the woods. There, not too tight?” He sits back on his heels as Joseph tests the tightness of the bandage.

“It’s great, big guy. Um, I’m sorry, I don’t know where that came from.”

“I don’t mind it” he winks, “pretty boy.”

His visit with Duck the next day, while informative, doesn’t give him much insight into how their assailant disappeared, especially when Duck points out that the rock face he ran across is over a mile long and hard to climb without equipment or a death wish. At least the ranger outfits him with a map with written-in details; most are about trails that are likely to be muddy (and thus hold prints) or spots where a person might be able to hide. And some hike recommendations, just because.

He tries not to think about taking Barclay on the one to a secluded lake and fucking him under the stars.

His schedule alternates between sitting in his office taking and making calls, shadowing Barclay when he’s out on errands or otherwise vulnerable (he’s spent more than a few nights on the floor of his room, that velvety baritone talking to him until they both fall asleep), and scouring the woods for clues.

A jay heckles a squirrel, which surrenders it’s pinecone and scrambles along the rocks. He’s wishing he could be so nimble when it climbs up and then...disappears. Following it, he discovers what he dismissed as endless rock is an optical illusion; the rocks above and behind align with the ones in front and below to make it seem as if it’s a flat face. But when he climbs over the bottom rock, he finds a narrow slot canyon. One big enough for a human.

Fifteen minutes of granite scratching his back later, he’s at the other side of the rocks. Smoke curls up his nose, and he trails the scent to a cabin which, according to Duck, is on a strange pocket of private property, just up a frontage road. Stranger still is the sign out front.

I.C All

Tarot, Palm Reading, and Other Psychic Services.

He knocks as wind chimes sing lazily around him.

“Come in!”

The first room is divided by a curtain, the half he’s in a rather eclectic waiting room. The dining room and kitchen are probably on the other side of the pink and yellow cloth.

Waiting for him in the next room is a man with a distinctly beatnik air about him, from his red glasses down to his brightly colored shawl and shoulder length hair. Laid out before him is a tarot deck, crystal ball, and several black candles. But that’s not what concerns Joseph.

“Before I sit down, can you ask your friend hiding in the bureau to come out?”

“Fuck” the beaura hisses, “uh, I mean, uh, there ain’t, uh, fuck-”

“It’s alright dearest, I suspect we may all benefit from this.” He gestures for Joseph to sit, “Apologies, but my hope was you were either a client I could turn away or one in search of a brief reading that I could perform before returning to more...pleasurable activities.” He grins as none other than Duck Newton steps from the creaky wooden bureau, looking like he’s been wrestling a very amorous tiger.

“Afternoon, Joe.” Duck sits on the nearby couch, “didn’t take you for the fortune tellin’ type.”

“I’m more interested in whether Mr…”

“Cold, but my friends call me Indrid.”

“Whether Indrid has noticed anyone coming and going on his property without permission?”

“I can’t say that I have, though it’s hard to do so; the walkway is guarded by Beacon, our dog, and everything but the walk up to the cabin is fenced off or, well, a massive wall of rock.”

“...Come with me.”

Soon, Duck is studying the slot canyon while Indrid worries his lower lip.

“I had no idea this was here.”

“No one did. It ain’t on any of the maps, and I never heard of anyone findin it on accident.” Duck pulls back, popping his hat on as he turns to Joseph, “this got somethin to do with Barclay?”

“I think whoever shot at us used this to get away. For all we know, the person who killed Mr. Douglas did the same.”

“To think, I encouraged Barclay to come here even more often once he told me his predicament; I thought no one could approach us without me seeing them coming. No, no this will not do at all” he shakes his head, “he needs to go see her.”

“You know he won’t, sugar.”

“He must. It’s the safest place for him. And the last anyone will look.”

Joseph looks between them, but before he can ask Indrid simply says, “You should ask Barclay about the Greenbank House. That story isn’t ours to tell.”

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

“Home sweet home.” Barclay grumbles as he and Joseph step out of the car and into the shadow of a mansion in the most exclusive neighborhood in Lakeshore. It took all of his friends telling him he should go--and Joseph assuring him it’s location meant it wouldn’t look like he was trying to run away from the scene of the murder--for the cook to agree to a stay at his family home.

“What are you afraid of?” Joseph keeps his tone gentle as they climb the front steps. His friend had simply said he had unhappy memories of the house and would rather live in a mausoleum then stay there.

“It’s more dread. You’ll see when we get inside.” He knocks on the front door. It’s opened by the least congruous face imaginable; a man with greying hair and a groundskeepers clothes. When he sees Barclay, a smile bursts across his face.

“Barclay! How are you kiddo?”

“I��m...I’m okay. It’s good to see you Thacker.” He offers a genuine smile as he opens his arms and gathers the older man into a hug. When they separate, Joseph offers his hand and introduces himself. Having an extra guest delights Thacker, and he ushers them in with a promise that he’ll have rooms ready to go in a jiff.

“How’s Maddie doin’?”

“She’s good, and she’ll still slug your arm for that nickname.”

“Good old Maddie.” Thackers cheer falters, “do you wanna go see your ma? If I didn’t know you were comin, gonna guess she didn’t neither.”

“Yeah. Yeah I should go see her. Joseph, you don’t, uh, you don’t need to come with me if you don’t want to.”

“It’s only polite to meet my hostess.”

Barclay leads him up a flight of stairs, then down a hallway where dust substitutes for walllpaper. Waiting for them in a red and orange toned bedroom is a woman with greying, black hair and a face not unlike Barclay’s.

“Dear heart” she rises from her armchair, drawing her son to her, “you came back.”

“Just to visit, Ma. Uh, this, this is Joseph. He’s a friend of mine. He’ll be staying here too.”

She studies him with a critical eye; Joseph thought Hayes had a judgemental gaze, but she could beat him any day.

“Hmm. The more the merrier, as she always said. How long will you stay?”

“A few weeks.”

She nods, regards the photo of another woman above the mantelpiece as if seeking council, “You’re not here for pleasure.”

“No.” Barclay rubs his arm, “I...I got into some trouble. Andrew Douglas was shot the night I broke things off with him. The cops are leaving me alone for now but someone else wants me dead.”

The woman’s face suggests she both recognizes and despises that name, “We will keep you safe.”

With that, she sits once more and picks up her book. Barclay hesitates, then bends to kiss her forehead before pulling Joseph from the room.

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

“How long ago did your mother die?” Joseph kicks his legs up onto the ottoman. Barclay alluded to her passing previously, but never gave details.

“When I was eighteen. Car accident. She went off the Kepler bridge. They, uh, they never found her, and just found part of the wreck.”

He intends to leave it there; they’re on the back porch overlooking the garden (“Thackers pride and joy”), early summer dusk on their skin and their arms occasionally brushing from the edges of their chairs. No need to kill the mood further. He just wanted some kind of context for the house and the widow within it.

“Ma never recovered. She loved mom so much that losing her was like losing a lung; she can get through her days, even enjoy them, but it will always be hard. She tried to keep mom around however she could; the whole goddamn house is the same as it was the day she died, even my room. She wanted me to stay too, but Mama offered me the job and I just...I couldn’t live in a haunted house anymore.”

Joseph tips his hand to the right, extending his fingers into the space between them. Barclay takes it and holds tight.

“I’m so sorry, Barclay. You had every right to leave, to make your own life.”

“I know.” He runs his thumb across Joseph’s knuckles, “okay, pretty boy, my turn for a tough question; why’d you really leave the police force.”

It’s not that tough a question, not when he knows the man he’s confiding in won’t go running to Hayes, “I joined the force because I wanted to solve mysteries and help people. But it turned out there was a lot less seeking justice and a lot more chasing off drunks who just needed a place to sleep off benches and harassing certain neighborhoods. Then I worked out that the chief was taking bribes from all kinds of places and was naive enough to think someone might listen to me and help me when I told them. Instead they threw me off the force. In hindsight, it could have been worse; they could have killed me and covered it up.”

“Jesus.” Barclay polishes off his drink, contemplates the ice, “glad they didn’t. Both because, y’know, world is better with you alive, but, uh, also because if they had we’d never have met.”

Joseph meets his eyes, smiling in a way that makes the other man blush, “that would’ve been a damn shame.”

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

This is turning into one of the stranger cases he’s worked, in good ways and bad. The good is that his work days, when he’s not on the phone or digging through his notes, are spent with Barclay. His friend insists on cooking, has even brought him lunch at his desk, and usually the two of them have dinner with Thacker in the garden. They read or play chess in the study, take walks through the labyrinthine grounds, and even swim in the open air pool. Barclay in his swim trunks is a fine sight indeed. Joseph wonders if he ever brought boyfriends here, ever kissed them in the blue water or let them have their way with him in some hidden patch of lawn.

But it’s not all roses and revelry. The more he roots around in Andrew Douglas’s past, and in Barclay’s, the more questions he has. Why did Andrew come and go? What happened to large portions of Raquel and Sylvia (Barclay’s parents) fortune? And who wants to kill someone with no criminal record, no known enemies, and no heirs? If it’s the same person who murdered Andrew, killing Barclay would remove their fall-guy, so that makes no sense as a move.

His best lead comes when he learns Barclay’s family and Andrew Douglas lived in San Francisco at the same time. A friend in the city agrees to do some sniffing around there for any information that might point towards their killer. Two days later, he calls back and says he’s sending Joseph a “fucking brick” of evidence in the mail.

It’s been several days and he’s still waiting. He dozed off in his room after dinner, intending to cat nap, but it seems he’s overshot; it’s after ten. At least the mail must have come by now.

“Barclay? Did anything come--you have five goddamn seconds to explain yourself.”

His friend stammers from his seat on the bed, surrounded by papers, photo’s, newsprint, and a manila envelope with Joseph’s name on it.

“I, uh, I, it isn’t-”

“This is all evidence collected for the purpose of protecting you, so if you have something you’re afraid of me finding you’d better start talking now.” He snaps, looming over the other man from the edge of the bed.

Wordlessly, Barclay hands him a piece of newspaper. It details a kidnapping, one that ends--happily--with the victim being returned to their family. Four names are mentioned, but none of the perpetrators are the man in front of him.

“I was sixteen. A stupid kid. I had this perfect life and I got a little stir crazy, a little bored, and fell in with some other rich kids who felt the same. It started out harmless. Then James, the guy in charge, decided we should dream bigger. I was so, so fucking in love with him, I didn’t try to stop him. Not right away, anyway. I...I was their look-out for that kidnapping. But I couldn’t let them keep it up.”

“You struck a deal.”

Barclay nods, “Best part is, I managed to do it without either of my parents getting wise. We moved here soon after. I thought I could put it behind me.”

Joseph takes a closer look at the paper. The byline for the article is one A. Douglas.

“He blackmailed you.”

“Not at first. He, he” Barclay takes a shaky breath, “he went to mom first. Asked her how much she’d pay to keep my name out of the papers. James had told him about me and he was going to spread the story. That’s why she was on that fucking bridge in the middle of a fucking storm; she was meeting him.”

“Oh, Barclay.” Evidence crumples under his knees as he sits to comfort his friend.

“Then he came to me; now not only was I paying to keep the story quiet, I was paying to keep him from telling Ma why Mom died.”

“She died because of a blackmailer, wet cement, and a weak guard rail. Not because of you.”

Barclay looks at him, eyes coffee cups of sorrow, and simply shakes his head. Then he crumples forward and Joseph catches him, holds him tight while he finishes his story through his tears.

He paid off Andrew for three years. Ned Chicane, owner of the Kepler Museum of Curiosities, helped him with the family accounts so Raquel wouldn’t notice anything suspicious. Whenever Andrew came around, he demanded Barclay act as his “boyfriend” for the duration of the visit.

“Everyone must think I have terrible taste in men.”

Once they establish that, as far as Barclay is aware, only Ned knows about the blackmail, Joseph cups his face and says, as firmly as gentleness allows, “From now on, I need you to be truthful with me. You said you didn’t want me putting the pieces together because you were ashamed, but all I want is to help you. I can’t do that if there are big things you’re hiding from me. Understand?”

Barclay nods, and apologizes the entire time they’re gathering the strewn pieces back into the envelope.

“Barclay?” Joseph cuts him off and eases him down until he’s on his back, “I forgive you. Now please go to sleep before you pass out from stress.”

The cook smiles at him, eyes already fluttering closed, “You’re the boss, Joseph.”

He ignores all the urges that kickstarts in him and leaves his friend to sleep in peace.

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

“Y’know, kind of wish we’d known each other back then.” Barclay looks up from where he’s helping Joseph sort the new evidence on the floor, “when I was in San Francisco, I mean.”

“It would have taken more than just a change of scene for me; my family does alright, but I’d have been way outside your circles.”

“So? Maybe then I coulda had a boyfriend who was ‘disreputable’ for bullshit reasons instead of real ones.”

“I’ve never once been disreputable.” He looks up from the photos in his hand, “and is that your way of telling me something, big guy.”

“Yes. I, uh, you can tell me to knock it off, but I, uh, I think you’re swell. It’s okay if you don’t feel that way but you said I should be…” he trails off as Joseph leans into his space,”honest.”

He kisses him once, so brief it barely counts but the larger man whimpers and tries to grab him before he pulls away.

“If we’re going to do this, I need you to promise me that you’ll tell me to hit the brakes if you need to; it won’t change my dedication to the case.”

“I promise.” There’s no dishonesty in his face, just boundless hope and affection.

“In that case, big guy” he lunges forward, pinning him to the rug, “you’re all mine.”

An unexpectedly high whine leaves his lover.

“You like when I’m rough?”

“Uh, uh huh, so much, people always want me to be and I don’t want to, wanna be, wanna beAHHHhhnnn” he arches his back as Joseph bites the patch of skin just below his beard.

“You’re so gentle, big guy, I thought you’d go straight to making love but” another bite, another gasp, “I think I’d better fuck you instead.”

“Please.” Barclays hands glide up to cup Joseph’s face and guide him down into another kiss.

Joseph rolls his hips forward and his sleeves up as speaks, “Now that you mention it, I can see how things would’ve gone if we met earlier. I was an obedient son but not beyond sneaking someone into my room when my parents were away” he undoes Barclay’s shirt, keeps grinding against him and licking his lips as he feels him getting hard, “or maybe we met down here, and you’d sneak me into the backyard.”

“Fuck, yes.” Barclays chest heaves as Joseph cards his fingers up through the dark hair to tease his nipples, “god, if how I, fuck, feel now is a clue, I’d have been so fucking mad for you.” He makes a charming groan as Joseph tongues his nippls and then nibbles his way up to his ear.

“It’s funny” Joseph kisses his cheek, “I knew so many guys like you on the force. Not you now, used to hard work and worry, but you then; spoiled and softer than a boiled egg.” He allows himself a moment of savoring their cocks teasing each other through their pants before continuing, “always wanted to discipline them, because it was clear no one ever did.”

“Please show me how.”

“Why?” He grins down at him, toying with his left nipple until it’s bright red.

“Because I wanna be good for you, Joseph. Wanna be every fantasy you ever had.”

“...Lord god almighty how am I supposed to say no to that?” Joseph undoes his suspenders, laughing at Barclay’s triumphant smile, “you’re a dream, big guy.”

He crawls so he’s straddling Barclays face, cock dripping pre-cum onto his lips. Barclays tongue keeps peeking out from between them, but doesn’t go further without permission.

“Since this is disciplinary, you don’t get a say in how it goes. You’ll take my cock as long and as deep as I want it, because I’m superior to you and you’re here to do what I say”

“Fuckyeah” Barclay paws Joseph’s thighs, opens his mouth so he can guide the head in.

“That, ohyes, that being said, if it’s really too much, tap my thigh twice.”

Barclay nods to show he understands, but is already pre-occupied sucking his cock like he’s starving for it.

“A good start, big guy, but if I just wanted my cock wet I’d have gone swimming.” He cups the back of Barclays head in both hands, “I want something to fuck, and your face is it.”

The man beneath him moans, fucks the air uselessly as Joseph pushes further in. He finds the resistance of his throat with a half-inch to go, and decides that’s good enough. He pulls halfway out, pushes back in, repeats the process a few times before finding his rhythm. Weeks of wanting mean it’s hurried and greedy, but the resulting moans suggest Barclay approves.

“You look so good like this, Barclay. God, if you’d been some fresh-faced officer, one look of those doe-eyes is all it, shit, would’ve taken for me to make this the only discipline you ever got. Any time I needed to put you in your place or just, fuck, just needed to let off some steam, I’d do this, get my, my cock in your mouth so often you’d run out of spit and be thankful for my cum in, in it’s place.”

Barclay is groping him again, eyes bright and lips managing some upward curve as his cock forces them apart.

“Then again” he tenderly massages Barclay’s scalp, “there’s no reason I can’t do that in this universe. Oh, ohshit, Barclay-” his words desert him as he cums, the other man swallowing eagerly and sucking him clean before he pulls out.

Joseph glances over his shoulder, “Can I take care of that for you?”

“Fuck, please?”

He rolls off of the cook, stays on his side and slips one arm under his shoulders. Then he sets his palm on the monstrous bulge in Barclay’s jeans and sets to work.

“I, I should unzip-”

“No” he kisses him, “we’re surrounded by evidence that I can’t have you cumming on. Don’t worry, I’ll clean up the mess you make cumming in your pants like a teenager.”

“Promise?” It’s an odd thing to say, but Joseph thinks he understands.

“I promise.” He quickens his pace, Barclay’s grunts growing louder when he does, “I’ll take care of you, big guy. I’ll look after you. You don’t have to lift a finger when I’m around.”

“Joseph.” Is all the reply he gets, Barclay already turning as cum spreads across his fly and clinging to the detective. His breath is hot, stays shaky even as his cock stops pulsing.

“Barclay? Baby, are you alright?”

“So fucking good, babe. I, I uh” he holds him tighter, “this is the first thing to make sense to me in years. Loving you, having you in my life, I get how we fit together so easily. Everything else, the murder, Ma, this person lurking around the last place that feels like home waiting to hurt me or hurt Mama or someone there, all of it, it’s so goddamn tangled I’m worried it’ll never get straight.”

Joseph rests their cheeks together, “We’ll figure it out, big guy. I promise.”

#sternclay #agent stern/ barclay #TAZ amnesty #noir au #detective au

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nerdforestgirl · 4 years ago

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Note: Thank you to everyone who still cares enough about Sheldon and Amy to celebrate today. I miss them, but it helps to know I’m not the only who still cares about them. Thanks for playing along with this stilly fluff crawlspace stuff all these years later. I know I shared my tattoos earlier, but obviously I had to write a little something too. Enjoy.

“All right. Our appointments are all set,” Amy told Sheldon with a big smile. This was nearly the moment she had been waiting for for the last year. She and Sheldon were finally going to get their Covid vaccines. They were finally going to be safe and be able to get back out into the world.

“I don't feel well. Perhaps you should cancel mine,” Sheldon said to his wife.

“Well, our appointments aren't until next week, so you'll be fine by then,” Amy said. She was pretty sure that it was just nerves. Even if it wasn't nerves, she had a point that the appointments weren't for several more days. He would likely be over whatever was bothering him by then. She left his appointment as it was and set back to making dinner for the two of them.

Over the next several days, Sheldon continued to complain that he wasn't feeling well. Amy took his temperature, and it was normal. Then she took him to get a Covid test even though he insisted that it wasn't that.

“Maybe we should get you in for a doctor's appointment,” Amy suggested when both of their Covid tests came back negative.

“I just don't feel well, but I don't think it needs a doctor's appointment,” Sheldon protested as he booted up his current game of Resident Evil on the PS5 Amy tracked down for his birthday.

Sheldon wasn't acting like he felt sick. He just mentioned it whenever Amy talked about how excited she was about the prospect of having her life back. When she mentioned that she looked forward to going back to brunch with the girls or working in her lab instead of the apartment, Sheldon would start in on how his stomach hurt or he had a headache. Whether or not Sheldon actually felt sick was up for debate, but Amy was fairly certain it was in his head.

“You aren't afraid of the vaccine, are you?” Amy asked. He knew the science. He knew that despite the appearance that the vaccines had been developed quickly, they were actually developed with more than a decade of science behind them. They had been thoroughly tested. And of course there weren't any microchips in them. Sheldon wasn't one of those people who believed in conspiracies. Or at least Amy didn't think he was.

“No,” Sheldon said. “Of course I'm not afraid of the vaccine.”

“Then why don't you want to get one?” Amy finally just asked him. She was tired of skirting the issue.

Sheldon opened his mouth to answer, but then he closed it. Amy had never seen him seem so unsure of himself. That sold her more on the idea of him feeling unwell more than anything, but she just stayed silent and waited for her husband to answer her.

“I liked the last year. I liked staying in with you every night. I liked the grocery delivery and the take out delivery. I liked never leaving the apartment. I liked that everyone was using hand sanitizer all the time. I liked the masks,” Sheldon confessed. This pandemic felt like it had been built for him. He was happy in it. He didn't want it over.

“Oh,” Amy said after a moment. That actually made a lot of sense. Sheldon was the only person she knew who really did seem to thrive in all of this. “At least you included me in the things you liked about the pandemic,” she added after a second.

“Of course I did. You are my favorite person in the world. If I was going to be locked in a pandemic with anyone, I'm glad it's you,” Sheldon told her. She knew that. He couldn't live without her.

“You're my favorite person too. That's why I want you safe. That's why I want you to get the vaccine,” Amy told Sheldon.

“Hmm. That's a good point,” Sheldon agreed. He hadn't thought about that element. He didn't want things to change, but he wanted Amy to be safe. The idea of his wife being safe was absolutely worth things going back to how they had been before.

“I'll hold your hand while you get it, if you want,” Amy offered. She thought of their original agreement all those years ago when a hand hold during a flu shot was one of the only forms of contact he would allow. That had all changed in the years since, but she was happy to be there in any moment of need.

“Well, that was a given. I suppose we can go get our vaccines tomorrow,” Sheldon agreed.

“And we'll still need second doses and then two weeks after that before we'll be protected,” Amy reminded him. They had plenty of movie nights alone snuggling on the couch left before they'd even be close to having their lives back. Plus more time after that to get used to being back out there. Sheldon could keep things the way they were for a while longer. As much as Amy missed some elements of her life, she certainly didn't mind the idea of some time alone with Sheldon.

#fluff crawlspace #NFG fan fiction #shamy fanfic

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autistic-singer515 · 3 years ago

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The ending of the Pinky and the Brain quarantine episode before the Julia Surprise ending Redone.

Since I’m already vaccinated, I wanted to redo my previous comic. So here’s my previous fan comic of the opening scene I want in the Animaniacs reboot I’ve redone about everyone having a world lockdown due to the fake piggy flu. It was all set up by Pinky and the Brain to make everyone in the world obey them. But mostly the Brain. He gave people two doses of the piggy flu vaccine to make it 100% effective against the virus.

The side effect? Obeying the Brain at every command!

But Pinky added an antidote into the serum when the Brain wasn’t looking because he thought the first dose of the vaccine wasn’t working. It causes him and the people to break out of the mind control. The people realized that the piggy flu scare was a fake. Nobody got sick when they got outside. Needless to say the people weren’t happy. They thought Pinky put the antidote into the serum by accident and was still angry with him for faking his own death.

Then it would cut to Julia watching over them on her game boy in anger.

Transcript:

In the suburban house, the restless father tried to unlock the front door to see if they could go outside now. But it was still locked because of the Brain’s auto lock in every house. He realized that he and his daughter couldn’t go outside and play yet.

The Father: “Oh, great! It’s still locked!”

The daughter cried out of frustration.

The Daughter: “But I wanna go outside now!”

She tugged her fathers hems of his house coat.

The Daughter: “Daddy! I wanna go outside and play now!”

The father sighed disappointedly as he sat down on the couch.

The Father: “Sorry, sweetheart. I’m afraid we still have to stay inside until the piggy flu pandemic subsides. Professional Doctor Brain says so. And we’re due to a second shot.”

The Daughter stomped her feet angrily.

The Daughter: “But I hate needles!”

The Daughter jumped up and down and grabbed her fathers hair.

The Daughter: “I wanna get out! Daddy! We can’t stay here forever! I wanna get out! This is so dull! I’m bored out of my skull!”

The Father rolled his eyes disapprovingly, knowing he and his wife had to stick with his daughters constant whining until the pandemic is over.

The Father: “Help me.......”

What were they going to do now?

Then suddenly their wide TV screen turned on automatically.

The Brain’s usual stoic face showed up on screen. He wore a tuxedo with a tie and some black shoes.

The Brain: “ This is Doctor Brain speaking!”

The Father, daughter and mother both watched the TV with anticipation.

We’re they allowed to go outside now?

But the Brain looked very serious looking.

The situation must be more serious than ever!

The Brain: “Dear people of the world...... It is with great sadness that my partner Pinkfert has died from the piggy flu today. He fought very valiantly. But alas the flu won. He was a sweet but stupid frie-! Associate! We’ve been working together for over 20 years. We’ve both tried to get, but failed world domination. But now I’ve succeeded! But Pinkfert sadly didn’t. But he told me to move on with my dreams of becoming a doctor.”

But the Brain didn’t tear up for his partner. He remained stoic and brave.

The suburban family got teary eyes seeing the news. Even the daughter.

The Mother: “Poor Pinkfert.....”

The Father: “So sorry for your loss....”

The Daughter: “That’s so sad.....”

The Brain picked up the needle with green liquid in it.

The Brain: “To commemorate my partner..... You will stay home unless you will swear fealty to me. And I will sanitize the world and when you’re all safe to go out again, you will worship me as your leader!! But if you go outside now..... You will end up like Pinkfert. So just wait a little longer. Keep grocery shopping online until I give everyone their second piggy flu shot to block out the virus 100 % guaranteed! And you will all be safe! We must not cry or get scared despite this horrible pandemic! We must be strong! For Pinkfert! Showing weakness will not save us! We must fight!

The family: “Yes Doctor Brain!”

But Pinky who was swirly eyed was lying in the hospital bed with his red curly wig on his head and he wore a green patient scrub. But then his eyes turned back to normal as he heard the Brain talking.

Pinky got teary eyed.

Pinky: “Pinkfert is dead?.... Oh no.....”

The Brain: “Yes!! I am the Brain! Your world’s greatest dictator and hero! I am not sad or afraid! I am proud and mighty!”

Everyone who saw the Brain on tv were impressed by his bravery. They couldn’t wait to get their second shot. They had to be brave for Pinkfert too.

Then later on, they all got their second shot at their own homes. Then their eyes began to swirl as they felt lightheaded. They knew they had to obey Brain now. He is the leader. There is no turning back.

The suburban family got teary eyed for Pinkfert as their eyes swirled as they faced the television screen at the Brain.

The Brain smiled at everything. Including his brainwashed human servants who stood there with their cameras. He knew the mind control serum will grow 100% powerful after the 65% powerful first dose and there would be nothing to get rid of the mind control serum’s effects.

The Brain: “Are you ready to obey me? And save everyone?”

The brainwashed suburban family: Yes! Please save us, Doctor Brain! You are our only hope for humanity! Save us!”

The brainwashed Father was mesmerized by the Brain’s stoic brave face. How he wished he was like him.

The Father: “Wow! That little guy is so brave and strong despite the piggy flu fiasco! I wish I was that strong like him! No weakness in sight! He never whines about stuff! Yes! We must not show weaknesses! We have to serve him and fight for survival!”

The Brain smiled much wider and much more devilishly than normal.

The Brain: “Yes..... At long last.... World domination is finally coming to fruition! The second dose of the 5G serum will make the mind control permanent! Once I inject the mind control serum into their bodies the second round, they won’t be able to resist me! They will forever sing my praises! Nobody can stop me now! Yes! Nobody!”

His human slaves: “Must obey Brain!”

The Brain chuckled maliciously as he turned away from the camera. And then his chuckles turned into a loud evil laugh. He curled his fingers while doing that.

The suburban Father looked at him curiously despite being brainwashed.

The Father: “Ummm.... Doctor Brain? Why are you laughing like an evil mastermind for no reason?”

The Brain stopped laughing and gave him an awkward, confused and shocked look.

Surely they are still brainwashed, right?

So the Brain turned around to face his human slaves on the screen. He had to come up with a lie to keep his slaves from getting too suspicious towards him and to keep his mind control serum working forever.

The Brain: “It’s a.... (Fake coughs)! Just a cough! As I was saying, you will stay home un-!”

Then Pinky popped up at the screen and started crying his eyes out, blocking the Brain out of the way.

Pinky: “BWWWWWAAAAAAA! POOR PINKFERT!!!!!!....... I’ve never got the chance to see him!......”

Pinky blew his nose on his handkerchief.

The Brain tried to get Pinky out of the way by pushing him, but Pinky remained on the screen by crying and pushing back.

The Brain: “Pinky, you idiot! No! Stop! What are you doing?!”

Pinky: “I wish I would’ve met him sooner!.... BWWWWWWAAAAAAAA!!!!!!”

Then people watched Pinky and the Brain with suspicion.

Pinkfert? He’s alive?

It causes the mind control serum to wear out of their systems.

“Wha?”

We’re they lying to them all along?

The Brain watched everyone resisting his mind control. He was beyond confused and angry. He stared at the nervous Pinky.

The Brain: “They resisted?! But how?!”

The people got even more suspicious at the Brain and Pinky as they heard this....

The Brain: “That could mean one thing! Some blithering idiot must’ve added the antidote in the second dose! PINKY!”

Pinky gulped nervously.

People looked around themselves. They didn’t get sick when they were outside and were together. Then they turned to Pinky and the Brain. They grew angry and betrayed. They’ve been lied to. They’ve nearly been robbed of their freedom thanks to the Brain. Pinkfert was Pinky all along.

The Brain noticed this and pushed down Pinky out of the screen. The wig came off of Pinky’s head. The Brain smiled at everyone nervously.

The Brain: “Oh! Um.... (laughs nervously)! You see.... it’s Pinkferts twin brother, Pinky! It’s all a big misunderstanding, everyone!”

Crowd #1: “LAIR!!!! THERE’S NO PIGGY FLU?”

Crowd #2: “Mind control?! Seriously dude?!”

The suburban family growled at the Brain on the screen.

Crowd #3: “You locked us in against our will just so you could control us!”

Crowd #4 “We didn’t get sick! Nobody did!”

Crowd #5: “I should’ve known!”

Crowd #6: Let’s get them!”

Crowd #7: “Yeah!”

The crowd angrily walked towards Pinky and the Brain. Pinky and the Brain shook in fear.

Pinky took a lollipop out of his pocket to try to offer them one.

Pinky: “W...W... Wanna lollipop?....

Pinky and the Brain both gulped nervously. Then they ran for their lives.

The Brain: “Run Pinky!”

They ran and ran and ran in the city and the Warner movie lot. Then they spotted Acme Labs. So they hid behind there when the people weren’t looking. The Brain took off his tuxedo as he watched the oblivious mob run the opposite direction. Then the mob were gone for good.

The Brain and Pinky felt relieved that they’re gone.

The Brain: “Good! They’re gone!”

Then the Brain remembered Pinky screwing up his plans again. His anger grew intense. He turned to Pinky furiously. He bared his teeth. His angry eyes became bloodshot.

Pinky jumped in fright at the sight.

The Brain: “PINKY!!!!! COME HERE!!!!!”

Pinky already took off his scrubs and threw it away nervously. He shook in fear again.

Pinky: “I’m sorry, Brain! I couldn’t help it! You see, I put the antidote into the second dose because the first dose wasn’t working! And losing Pinkfert is so sad that I cried!”

The Brain growled and shook his hands like a maniac. He slowly walked towards Pinky in anger. Pinky yelped in fear.

The Brain jumped and bumped Pinky on the head.

The Brain: “Pinky, you imbecile! You ruined my plan yet again!”

Pinky felt dizzy and injured from the hit.

Pinky: “Sorry, Brain....”

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vickers-n-lickers · 4 years ago

Text

Moonlit pt. 3

Trigger Warning: Unaliving thoughts, violence, zombies))

Six rounds left.

He thought about doing it right then and there.

Her first. Then him.

Jill warned him they always come back unless they get a bullet in the head.

Maybe she'd try to eat him if she came back.

I'd… deserve it.

Well, he thought he did.

Her ghost disagreed with the notion from the back of his mind.

"You've reached the Vickers! Please leave a message at the beep."

Beep!

"Hey Joan, it's Dad. It's about four in the afternoon. I, uh, I accidentally picked up Jenna from the Y. Sorry, I thought it was my night. You can have Brad call off the search. I bet you both have been worried sick. She's up here in Stoneville with me. She and the dog are settled in for the night, I'll drop her off at school first thing in the morning and him at the house. I'm really sorry, Joan. Hey, do give me a call back so I make sure you got this message, okay? Love you, Scooter. Bye."

"Do you remember when you fell in love with me?" Brad asked, a grin crossing his lips when nails drug low along his stomach.

Joan made a thoughtful sound as she lifted her head. Messy strands of brunette were carefully tucked behind an ear. "That's a secret." She giggled when he squinted and scowled suddenly at her.

"Tell me."

Long fingers swept back wild strands. "Nope. Never. Don't you dare do puppy dog eyes. Bradley! That is blackmail. That is a crime, sir!"

Holding in a laugh, he poked out his lower lip to match the mournful lift in his brow. He smiled when she laughed.

"Ugh! You monster. Fine…" Rolling off of him, she nestled into the crook of his arm. "During the last bad blizzard."

Brad blinked, rolling on his side to face her. "That was three years before we started dating."

The woman just shrugged, tracing the line of his collarbone in the dark. "So?"

"Why didn't you say something?"

"You had so many female admirers, I knew I couldn't compete."

Brad's brows immediately quirked in confusion. "Who?"

"The ladies that work in the records office."

His jaw dropped in horror. "They're in their sixties and I don't appreciate those catcalls every time Wesker sends me down there."

Joan wrinkled her nose, fighting back a snicker. "I bet they all have your sweet recruitment poster on their bedroom ceilings."

"Oh my God, Joan! Why would you put that in my head?" He pulled away when she started cackling.

"I bet they call the number late night hoping you'll answer. 'Is there an oral exam, Brad?'," She squealed with laughter when wagging fingers went for her hips.

"C'mon. Real reason." His smile was so warm and free in the slant of light peeking through the blinds.

It always melted the frost off her spirit. A long sigh escaped, her hand smoothed over his as it ran up her cheek. "The real reason? Because I come with baggage."

He scoffed. "We all do."

She shook her head. "Jack always told me no man would want me with Jenna being on the spectrum and me being a single mother. I…" Her shoulders lifted and dropped. "Part of me believed him, I guess."

Brad was quiet for the longest time. The clock on the nightstand read twelve in glowing red. Unmoving, outside of breath and blinking, he spoke barely above a whisper. "That is the cruelest shit I've ever heard in my life. There's nothing wrong with Jenna. She's a little girl. Nobody can control that. You didn't expect to be Mom and Dad… What the fuck is wrong with him?"

Joan bit her bottom lip. "I don't know. That's Jack. He thinks he has an answer for everything. 'Everyone leaves, Joan. Remember your mother…'"

Brad's stare turned hard as he propped himself up with an elbow. "I'm not fuckin' going anywhere." Short nails ran over where moonlight met her shoulder. "Hey… You know when I fell in love with you?" His lips turned up when she shook her head again. "It was when you said 'I'm Joan'." When her form rose and fell harshly from breath, his arms looped and pulled her fast to him. Kissing away tears, his nose pressed along the side of hers. "I'm not going anywhere."

"You've reached the Vickers! Please leave a message at the beep."

Beep!

"Joan, it's Dad again. It's about nine o'clock. I really hope you have a good reason for not calling me back. The news is a mess so I recon you're still stuck in traffic trying to get home. Before I forget, your brother and his wife are going to be here tomorrow morning so how about you two just come on up for the rest of the week and weekend? Your brother's been jabberin' my ear off about meeting Brad anyway. They can talk shop about helicopters and we'll go fishin'. Love ya, Scooter. Byeeeee!"

The office stunk sterile. Jenna's dirty shoes swung back and forth on the exam table as she waited, expressive gray eyes fixed on the man sitting next to her on a chair. She reached out suddenly, poking at the emblem stitched in blue with white stars on his shoulder. She smiled brightly when he feigned a scowl.

"Alright then, Miss Piper…" Annette's brows lifted as she closed the door behind her. "And who are you?"

Brad was on his feet in a second, offering a hand. "Brad Vickers, Joan is at soundcheck. So, I…" His brows lifted when the blonde woman stepped around him and took a seat at the desk next to the exam table. "…Brought her for shots."

Annette smiled fondly to the girl, fingers looping in the air as she spoke in total silence to the girl.

Jenna's hands suddenly were animated, signing away a response to her doctor.

Brad sat down quietly, watching the two.

Birkin nodded, her stare turning back to the man. "Do you sign at all, Mister Vickers?"

"Still learnin'… What did she say?"

A nail scratched along one of her brows as she began to take down some notes. "She said you're her dad and you fly airplanes."

Soft brown eyes lifted up to the little one on the table. A smile drew itself across his mouth as she fiddled with the buttons on her coat.

A clean needle appeared when the cap was removed, quickly jabbed into a vial of clear liquid. The Umbrella symbol stenciled in red the only color to show.

Brows lifting, the man offered a hand to the young girl. Fingers gently gripping, his stare met her spooked one as Annette prepared.

"Just gonna be a little pinch, sweetie…"

He frowned when Jenna winced one eye totally shut.

"One more and we'll call it a day. Good girl. You're so brave," Annette cooed, a Barbie sticker soon in Jenna's hands. Her stare turned to Brad. "Tell her mother she's due for one last booster in six weeks and I'll get the referral she needs in the mail tomorrow."

Brad nodded, pulling his coat back on. "I'll let her know."

They were almost out of the exam room when Annette called out. "Have you gotten your flu shot yet this year, Mister Vickers?"

Brad's eyes went wide.

Back in the room.

Jenna looked from her new sticker still on its sheet up to the man sitting on the exam table.

Brad just pursed his lips, letting his air out when Annette returned with the vaccine.

"Alright, your turn."

Jenna offered her tiny hand to hold onto.

Annette couldn't hide her chuckle at the pair.

Jenna was still smiling at her two bright pink stickers when they arrived back home.

"You've reached the Vickers! Please leave a message at the beep."

Beep!

"Scooter, it's Dad. It's about six-forty in the mornin'. Your brother just got in. I am assuming you and Brad went home and just crashed out. Please call me back, I don't think Jenna needs to go back to school today. The girls are here. How about I just call the school at eight and she play hooky so she can see her cousins? I heard helicopters flying earlier. What in the world happened last night? Call me, girl. Bye!"

The phone clicked back on the receiver as Jack turned away. "I swear that girl gives me more gray hair every day. Lookin' for the coffee, Son?"

Henry shook his head as he opened another cabinet. "Creamer?"

"It's in the pantry." Fingers running over thinning hair, Jack forced a smile as his daughter-in-law stepped around the corner. "Hey stranger, been a while." His arms opened as the curly haired blonde wrapped hers around him. "Mmmm! I missed you two. How's Seattle?"

"Cold, wet… I love it up there." Michelle replied, smiling as two little bodies pushed their way between her and their grandpa. "Girls, take your bags upstairs before harassing your grandpa." Their whines only made her smile wider. "We're going fishing later, hurry up!"

"Yeah, girls… Jenna is up there so keep it down, okay?" Jack let out a sigh as the two were out of sight. "It ain't like Joan to not answer me. Somethings off."

"Who knows, Dad. Scooter isn't the sharpest tool in the shed all the time," Henry said with a shrug, stirring dried creamer into his coffee.

"They might have realized they were baby free for a night and decided to start making the next one," Michelle replied, a wry grin on her face as her brows popped.

Henry feigned a gag. "Gross."

Jack let out a sigh. "For once in my life, I hope that's the case. Maybe I'll have a grandson next year and we'll all have a laugh at this."

Both smiled at the man seated at the kitchen table.

A bright flash suddenly filled all of the windows, and a minute later the entire house violently shook.

Henry slammed the car door behind him, ball cap fished from the back of his belt and slung low over his eyes as he strode in the direction of the red tinted sky. "Stay in the car, Dad. I got this."

"You sure?"

"It's fine. Stay in the car. I'll find out what's going on." So much screaming, so many people bumping into him as they fled down the narrow paths between cars. It was total chaos.

What the fuck is going on?

He managed to make his way toward the crowd gathered at the roadblocks. He hung back, eyes veering over the many armed forms behind the barriers.

"My husband is still in the city! When will we be let in?"

"I have to get home!"

"What was that explosion? Was that a missile?"

Ducking through the crowd, he made his way toward the end of the barrier. Green eyes clicked their stare from one body to another. From the guy smoking, to another checking his gear, his eyes narrowed as he frowned.

He was fastening his seatbelt as soon as the door to the car was shut. "Drive, Dad. We gotta go."

"What about Joan?"

"Dad, just drive. Let's get out of here before we're pinned in. You're clear still." He took a look over his shoulder to the rear window.

"What's going on, Henry?"

"Just get the car turned around! C'mon, Dad." He let out a sigh as the wheel cranked and the car was thrown into drive. "You're right, something is really wrong."

"What? What are you talkin' about?"

"None of those guys have flags on their shoulders. No unit patches. Nothin'. No name tape, no Army over their hearts. One guy had a grenade launcher out and was smoking."

"What does that mean, Henry?"

The pilot just shook his head. "I don't know. They're not Army though, Dad. They want us to think they are though..."

Jack looked frantic behind the wheel. "Maybe we should check the other roads going in? We have to be able to get in somewhere."

Henry shook his head. "No, no. The reporter back there said the city had been hit with a missiles."

"What? Oh my God…"

The raven haired man choked back tears, blinking them away as the car swerved. "Let me drive, Dad."

"He hasn't been home much since the riots began," Joan said quietly. Wrapped up in a housecoat, she coughed harshly into her elbow. "I uh… I don't know what to tell you, Jill. We don't talk anymore. He's hellbent on keeping his job. I don't think he understands how close I am to leaving him."

"I'm sorry things are rough," Jill replied, the coffee in her cup cold when she took a sip.

"If Forest where here…." The woman bit her lower lip, shaking her head. "God, ever since they were killed it's like he died with them. You know? He's not soft and gentle anymore. He's just… he's just dead but walking around."

Jill grimaced at the thought. "I don't really need to talk to Brad. I wanted to ask you about when you worked for Umbrella. What did you do for them?"

"I uh… I was told I was guarding these massive coolers full of vaccines that required being at a low temperature at all times. Then, well before he died, Albert sent me a disc with instructions to look at it if anything happened to him." She wiped at her eyes, red and swollen. "Those monsters you told us about? I was guarding something like them. He had manifests and notes that said exactly what was in the coolers. There were pictures…" Her thumbs brushed over the side of her mug.

Jill's eyes were enormous.

Her voice was flat, emptied out and hollow. "Did you know most of those things used to be human? They were humans and I helped them take those poor people… Jesus Christ…" She couldn't help but weep, a dish towel used to wipe it all away.

"Joan do you still have the disc?"

The woman nodded, tears welling in her eyes. "Yeah, yeah you can have it."

"It's going to be fine. The military is outside of the city. Help is here, Joan."

"That's bullshit and you know it! We're locked down. There's a curfew, there are more reports of people being attacked. I heard it on the radio!"

"Just drunks, Joan."

"No Brad! We both know that's not what's happening. We should have left town already."

Anger finally beat down the last wall he had, and it would be taken out on her. "If you want to leave, go ahead! I'm not going. My life is here. I might be able to sleep at home for once instead of at my fuckin' desk! I'm tired of this bullshit, Joan!"

"It's all bullshit, huh? Our friends are dead, Brad! They're all dead! That's not bullshit," her voice wavered. "I can't believe you sided with the prick who not only canned me, but is trying to lie about how all of your friends died!"

"It's your own fucking fault you got canned! If you hadn't been such a fuckin' idiot you'd still have a decent job!"

Her eyes were enormous at that, shoulders then squared… then predatory. A panther in the brush, she looked ready to rip him apart.

He looked ready to make a mistake as soon as she did.

The moment passed.

Joan took what dignity she still had and left.

A hand went to the pocket on his vest.

The ring went back on Joan's hand.

He couldn't bear the idea of another hand having it.

He locked the doors and made his way out the back. The alley was empty.

Uptown was the next stop. He was getting the fuck out of town by the end of the night.

She hadn't asked him to be brave.

She had asked him to survive.

#tw sucidal ideation #death tw

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keichanz · 5 years ago

Text

Little Visits || pt. 1

part two will be posted soon.

“Taisho Brothers Inc., this is Nazuna, how may I direct your call?”

Across from the reception desk, the elevator doors opened but the secretary didn’t look away from her computer as she said, “I’m terribly sorry sir, I’m afraid Mr. Taisho is in a meeting right now, but I’d be happy to take a message if you’d like.”

Grateful for the headset that freed both of her hands, Nazuna snatched a pen to quickly scrawl out the brief message on the small note pad for such a purpose and bit back a sigh as the man on the other end continued to drone on. Now she understood why Tōran hated answering calls from this particular client; he never shut up.

“No, I’m not sure how long it will last—er, about forty-five minutes ago. Yes, I’ll be sure to give him the message,” she promised and barely refrained from rolling her eyes. “Of course. You’re very welcome, Mr. Yanada. Yes, I will deliver it personally—you too. Bye, now.”

Ending the call, Nazuna sighed and eyed her nearly empty cup of coffee. Perhaps it was time for a refill.

“I hope that wasn’t my Mr. Taisho you’re referring to,” a kind female voice piped up and Nazuna lifted her head.

“Mrs. Taisho!” the secretary greeted in pleasant surprise and she received a warm smile in response. She smiled back and replied, “Ah, don’t worry, that call was for Sesshomaru. Tōran is on vacation this week and all of his calls are getting forwarded to me.”

Kagome winced and gave a sympathetic smile. “Ouch. Busy week, hm?”

Nazuna sighed and shrugged. “Just a few more days and then I can breathe again. I was just thinking it’s time to get some more of that lifesaving caffeinated liquid when I took that call.”

Caramel colored eyes lit up and hitching the toddler in her arm higher up on her hip, Kagome stepped forward and set down on the desk a fresh cup of java from the café across the street.

“You’re in luck,” Kagome said with a friendly wink. “They got my order wrong and added an extra shot of espresso. It’s too bitter for me, and it sounds like you need it more than I do anyway.”

Nazuna practically had stars in her eyes as she wrapped her hands around the warm paper cup and beamed at her boss’s generous, beautiful wife.

“You are a lifesaver, Mrs. Taisho,” the younger woman gushed, inhaling the delicious-smelling steam with a delighted sigh. “Thank you so much. Are you sure you don’t mind?”

Kagome waved her hand. “It’s fine, I promise. It would have probably just gotten dumped since neither of us are a fan of espresso, and anyway the real reason we stopped in was because Iz wanted to surprise Daddy with his favorite treat. Right, baby?”

Cradled in her arm, one-year old Izayoi briefly turned her head from where it rested on her mother’s shoulder to peek shyly at the smiling receptionist, a brown paper bag with her father’s favorite baked good clutched in her tiny hand.

Nazuna’s face softened and she barely resisted the urge to squeal. Her boss had the most adorable baby!

“Hi, Izayoi,” the secretary greeted with a little finger-wave.

Kagome watched in amusement as her toddler blinked before abruptly hiding again, smashing her face against her shoulder and wrapping her small arms around her neck.

Nazuna giggled while Kagome shook her head, but not without a smile. “So shy,” she said and kissed her daughter between her furry little tears before turning to Nazuna again.

“He’s in his office,” the younger woman supplied with a knowing smile before Kagome could inquire. “I’ll hold his calls. I’m sure he’d be glad for a break himself.”

Kagome beamed. “You’re the best, Zune. I owe you another cup of coffee and anything you want at the café next time I visit.”

The secretary’s eyes glittered as she replied, “I’m quite partial to those yogurt parfaits with the strawberries and their caramel mocha lattes…”

Kagome giggled and winked as she rounded the desk toward where her husband’s office was located. “You got it. Thanks again, Nazuna!”

“Anytime, Mrs. Taisho!” She lifted her newly gifted cup of coffee up and watched as the two disappeared. Her boss was truly a lucky man to have such an amazing wife and adorable little girl. Now if only she could be so lucky…

Sighing wistfully, Nazuna took a sip of her coffee, moaned in delight, then got back to work, rejuvenated.

Unsurprisingly her husband’s office door was closed and Kagome knelt before it to set their one-year old on the floor. Izayoi blinked at her as Kagome smoothed out her cute little dress and dropped a kiss to her nose. The toddler beamed and with a smile, Kagome tweaked her ear, reached over her head, and swung open the door.

Inuyasha was immersed in his work, frowning at his computer screen as he typed up one of the seemingly millions of reports that were due when his office door suddenly opened of its own violation and the scent that drifted in gave him pause.

He froze and amber eyes quickly darted to the door, wondering if she was really here or if he was smelling things. The doorway was empty and Inuyasha frowned, eyes narrowing as a sneaking suspicion made the corners of his lips twitch upward, and then not even a second later his suspicions were confirmed when a very familiar toddler waddled into his office, clutching a paper bag and his heart positively melted at the radiant smile that split her face when she spotted him.

“Babygirl!” Immediately abandoning his work, Inuyasha stood from his chair only to kneel down as his daughter came zooming across the floor toward him as fast as her little legs could carry her.

Grinning Inuyasha wrapped her up in his arms and kissed her little face as he stood back up, ears flicking as the click of his door closing registered, but he only had eyes for his little girl.

“Daddy!” Izayoi laughed and hugged him around his neck, giggling when he laid a big wet kiss on her pudgy little cheek.

“What’re you doing here?” Inuyasha murmured even though he already had a very good idea. “Come to surprise daddy, huh?”

Leaning back, Izayoi grinned and waved around the brown paper bag she still gripped in her hand.

“Mama,” she said and allowed her father to take the bag from her.

“Way to rat me out, Iz,” Mama said as she ambled toward them and two sets of amber eyes swung her way.

“Kinda hard to be ratted out when your target has a working nose,” Inuyasha drawled, aiming a crooked grin at his wife as he opened his arm and beckoned her over. “I’ll give you an A for effort, though, Mrs. Taisho.”

“You ruin all my good surprises,” Kagome murmured as she wrapped her arms around his waist and tipped her head back to receive his loving kiss with a smile.

“Not my fault,” he rumbled and kissed her again.

“It’s totally your fault.”

“Prove it.” He nuzzled her nose with his and grinned at her little huff of annoyance, but her eyes glittered with amusement.

When all his wife did was wrinkle her nose and level him with a familiar look of exasperation, Inuyasha chuckled and dropped one last soft kiss to her lips before reluctantly pulling back. Kagome tweaked his ear then hitched herself up onto his desk while he sank back down into his chair with Izayoi on his lap. His eyebrows rose in surprise when he noticed she seemed to have helped herself to the contents of the back and his wife sighed in resignation when she noticed, too.

With half a chocolate chip cookie in her mouth, Izayoi blinked great big eyes the color of honey at her father then gave a toothy grin. He shook his head and kissed her nose.

“How’d it go?” Inuyasha asked and slipped his hand inside the bag to steal a cookie before his sneaky daughter polished them all off.

Kagome shrugged and idly surveyed his desk, frowning when she spotted a familiar pair of glasses peeking out from under a stack of papers.

“Everything’s good,” she answered, reaching over to pluck the glasses out from their hiding place. “She was a very good girl and held still when she got her flu shot and her checkup went smoothly. She got a sticker for being such a good girl, didn’t you, sweetie? Show daddy your sticker.”

Eyes widening, Izayoi faced the older half-demon and proudly thrust her hand in his face with a huge grin, displaying the princess sticker on the back of her hand that read, “Great job, Princess!”

“Oooh,” Inuyasha murmured on cue, taking the tiny hand in his own and inspecting the pink glittery sticker. “I’m jealous. Can Dad have a sticker, too?”

Izayoi giggled and shook her head, holding her hand to her chest to protect her precious sticker.

“No? Well then how about I just take yours, then,” he said before promptly bringing her tiny hand to his mouth and pretending to eat it.

The toddler squealed and shook her head, trying to take her hand back. “No, no, no, no Daddy!” she said through her laughter and used her other hand to push at his face.

Inuyasha tried to eat that hand too and from her spot on his desk Kagome watched in amusement as their daughter wriggled around on his lap while her husband made ridiculous “nom nom nom” noises. Eventually Izayoi escaped his grasp and started exploring his office, waddling to and fro with a magnifying glass she’d pilfered from her father’s desk.

Content to let her wander around, Inuyasha sat back in his chair and promptly stuffed a half-eaten cookie in his mouth.

“Why aren’t you wearing these?” Kagome asked, holding up those damned reading glasses and Inuyasha wrinkled his nose as he swallowed his mouthful.

“They make me feel old,” Inuyasha begrudgingly admitted and glared at the offending item dangling from his wife’s fingers. His sight was fine, dammit. He didn’t need them.

Kagome’s lips twitched. “You are old.”

“Hey!” Inuyasha protested and caught his mischievous little wife before she could escape, dragging her onto his lap. Kagome snickered and made herself comfortable, wrapping her arms around his neck and crossing her legs where they were draped over his thighs.

“I think they make you look sexy,” Kagome purred and kissed his jaw.

Inuyasha smirked and slipped his arms around her waist. “Yeah?”

“Mmhm,” his wife hummed and she was smiling as he rested his forehead against her own and brushed his lips against hers.

“Thanks,” he whispered and promptly tucked his face into the crook of her neck, heaving a sigh as he tightened his arms around his beloved.

Kagome’s eyebrows rose and a bemused smile curled her lisp as she ran a hand through his hair and rubbed his ears. A giggle from Izayoi prompted her to look over to discover their daughter had discovered the bookshelf and was sitting on the floor with what looked to be an encyclopedia spread out before her.

“What for?” she asked gently, moving her hand down to massage the nape of his neck.

Inuyasha’s pleased growl told her how much he appreciated that gesture so she kept it up, humming quietly under her breath as she waited for her hanyou to answer.

“You,” he finally said a minute later, leaning back with a sigh and aiming one of his loving smiles he reserved just for his family. “Her. This. I needed it.”

Heart full of love for this amazing man, Kagome tugged him down and they shared a long, slow, lingering kiss that bespoke of utter content and all the love they harbored for one another.

“Muh,” a high-pitched voice interrupted followed by an insistent tugging on Inuyasha’s pants and breaking apart, both parents glanced down to find their toddler frowning up at them and bouncing on the balls of her feet, clearly wanting in on the affection.

Inuyasha snorted, Kagome laughed, and then clawed hands reached down to oblige the little girl, lifting her up and settling her on her mother’s lap. A second later she was bombarded with kisses and hugs from her parents and Izayoi’s laughter rang loud and clear, happy, genuine, and pure.

#little visits #part 1 #oneshot #inuyasha #kagome #izayoi #inukag #keizfanfiction #fanfiction

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eskalations · 4 years ago

Link

"This is about my pride, Riza." Roy reasoned, taking a few steps closer to her desk. His palms were up, as though it was the simplest explanation in the world. "If Rebecca knew I was incapable of this, she'd never let me hear the end of it."

A series of oneshots documenting the life and times of the Amestrian First Family.

A/N: Alright, fam - this was tough. I don't know WHY this was such a hard chapter to write, but it was. I had a rough week at work, so my writing muse wasn't as strong as usual. That being said, I'm not exactly happy with this chapter. I hope that despite that, and any other mistakes there are, that you still at least find this chapter somewhat readable.

Also, fun fact, that I forgot to tell you last chapter. I've always considered Xingese, the equivalent of Chinese in the FMA universe - so, when Elizabeth refers to her little sister as "Mae Mae", it's actually a reference to the Chinese term "Mei Mei" which means "little sister".

Thank you so much for reading!

"Of all the times we spoke of hell, this is not what I imagined – "

At Riza's unimpressed look, Roy clamped his mouth shut. He knew his dramatics were not going to earn him any positive points with his wife at the moment. She was far too tired to deal with his own childish commentary.

" – however, I would do anything to keep my wife and daughters happy." Roy finally finished – a near visible sweat drop forming at the start of his hairline. At the change of conversational direction, Riza gave him a dubious look from over the documents in her hands.

"You're sure you can handle it?"

"No," Roy answered quickly, too quickly for a man who was usually so confident. "But I don't see any other choice."

"I could ask Rebecca – "

"I would rather you didn't."

With a single blonde brow raised, Riza regarded her husband in confusion. "I don't understand why you're so against – "

"You're acting like a child, Roy."

"No," Roy patted his chest, quite a sight in his military blues. It was almost amusing how seriously the Fuhrer was taking this. "I am acting like a man. A man does not back down from a challenge such as this."

Riza couldn't help the tired smile that appeared on her features at such conviction. "A challenge such as a sleepover?"

Her husband gave her a withering look. "Don't say it like that, you make it sound ridiculous."

His petulant expression had laughter bubbling up in Riza's throat. The sound caused Roy's heart to soar. She hadn't been laughing much in the past few months, so it was nice to hear such a happy sound coming from her lips – even if it was still tinged with exhaustion.

Before Riza could respond, she was interrupted by a cry coming from the makeshift crib that lay in the corner of the room. Without a second thought, the First Lady of Amestris was on her feet and comforting the child that lay within the soft pink blankets.

The scene had Roy sighing in defeat. The main reason for their current dilemma was the same precious bundle that was now being cradled by her mother.

Mae Mustang had certainly turned their lives upside down.

Winter had come and gone, and with it, so had the illnesses that pestered the Mustang household all season long. Following the solstice, it seemed like the girls came down with a new round of sniffles every week. Nothing hit the family near as hard as the flu that had preceded the solstice – however, both Roy and Riza had certainly had their hands full with both their daughters and their duties.

On top of all the sickness in the house, Riza's moods had not improved much over time. With an extremely colicky baby, the woman had felt as though she were doomed to never get a normal night's sleep ever again. She was quick to anger and extremely lethargic – two things that no one who was part of their circle had ever known her to be.

Once she had brought up the issue with her doctor, the woman assured her that it was a normal to feel this way after some pregnancies. Given the fact that Mae was also a very fussy baby, it was to be expected that she would feel like she was at her wit's end for the first few months of her youngest daughter's life.

Though her words had been unconcerned and gentle when she had spoken with Riza, Roy would never forget the serious expression she gave him as she pulled him to the side.

'Keep an eye on her,' she had said with concern evident in her eyes. The soft warning in her tone was enough to have Roy breaking out into a nervous sweat.

He had already been concerned, but after that, he was really concerned.

That was why, nearly four months after their second daughter's birth, Roy insisted that Riza continue to work from home. While Riza normally would have argued against this, wanting to be as close to Roy as possible at Central HQ, she had simply nodded and agreed that this arrangement was her best option for now.

While working from home, the First Lady was able to sleep in and attend to her infant daughter throughout the day. Roy had suggested hiring a nanny temporarily, just to give Riza more time on her own – however, that idea had been quickly shot down by his wife.

'Are you saying I'm incapable of taking care of my own infant daughter?' Riza had snapped at him, absolutely appalled by the suggestion. Knowing that his wife was wrought with insecurities when it came to her parenting, Roy had dropped the subject rather quickly after that.

The man hated feeling useless, but there was only so much he could do to help his wife when he was several blocks away at Central HQ. The woman refused to let him tend to their daughter at night, citing that he needed his rest in order to attend to his duties as Fuhrer. Thus, that left Riza to take care of everything, from night feedings to bathing their young, infant daughter.

In the middle of all this was poor Elizabeth, who was certainly beginning to feel slighted by all the attention that was being given to her sister. Though she had always loved the baby and wanted to be around her whenever she was home, Roy could see that the tolerant child was beginning to grow weary at the lack of attention she was receiving from her usually doting parents.

Hence, the sleepover.

Elizabeth's birthday had always been cause for great celebration in their household. While typically they held a party with both friends and family alike, Elizabeth had requested something different this year. Though her time spent with the Elric and Havoc children had been nice, she wanted to invite her own friends over from daycare for a different kind of party.

A sleepover party.

The idea was foreign to both Riza and Roy. Riza had never concerned herself with birthdays during her adolescence, since her father thought they were nothing more than another day of life and that there was no real reason to celebrate them. Roy, on the other hand, had celebrated many birthdays during his formative years – however, despite having grown up with a multitude of foster sisters, was completely unfamiliar with the concept of a sleepover.

Though both her parents had been quite hesitant of the idea at first, Elizabeth's sweet little pout and tears had finally convinced them in the end. If this was what she wanted, then this was what she was going to get.

However, Roy had not expected that he was going to have to run this gig solo.

Three days before Elizabeth's sleepover – Mae had started showing signs of teething, and suddenly the sleepless nights of colic, became something a little more.

In the past several days, the frazzled mother had maybe gotten a total of three hours of sleep. Between keeping up with Mae's feedings and comforting her as she sobbed from both the pains in her stomach and her mouth, Riza had very little time to rest. Roy could see, as the days went by, that the usually dark circles under his wife's eyes, were continuously getting darker. Not only that, but the healthy glow of her peach-colored skin, had changed into a sickly pale pallor.

It was obvious. She was exhausted.

On top of all that, Riza was still performing her duties as Amestris' First Lady. She continued to move forward with her plans for the new school she was commissioning and had even kept up with the interviews she had scheduled to help with the hiring of its faculty.

Roy had no idea how she did it. He wasn't even sure how she found the energy to dress in the morning with all she was doing.

Hence, why he had offered to take over the planning and execution of their daughter's sleepover party. Though he seriously doubted his skills in this department, he would do whatever it took to give Riza a much-needed break.

Even now, as she cradled their youngest in her arms, Roy could see the weariness in the way she bounced their child in comfort. She had never looked further from her former self than she did now. The formidable "Hawk's Eye" – now beaten down from a rather rough patch of motherhood. It was unfair.

"I want to help you." Roy told her honestly, his voice soft as Mae's cries finally began to subside. He walked over to Riza's side, wrapping an arm around her waist. "If I'm already up with the girls, then that will give you some time to rest without having to worry about Mae."

"So, you're going to take care of Mae, too?" Riza asked, doubt evident in her words. She gazed down at their daughter – all blonde hair and dark eyes, before looking back up at him. "Are you sure it won't be too much?"

"I'm positive." Roy affirmed, rubbing a comforting hand over her back. Even through the thin material of her tapioca dress, Roy could feel the notches of her spine. She had lost more weight again. With this in mind, his resolve only grew. "Besides, I won't be alone. Breda and Havoc are going to help me."

Riza's brows rose to her hairline. "How?"

"I've dismissed my bodyguards for tonight, so they're going to stand in." Roy brought a hand up to rub a hand against Mae's fevered cheeks. "I know it's technically below their rank, but desperate times call for desperate measures."

The Fuhrer rarely made Captains Havoc and Breda his guards, unless there was something really important going on, such as the birth of his daughter. However, he had already asked the men if they could free up their Saturday night to assist him on a 'mission'.

Of course, he hadn't told them what that mission was – but Roy wasn't big on details. Besides, they weren't going to say no to their boss.

Riza shook her head at the idea. "You really think those two will be able to help you?"

Roy shrugged. "Possibly."

The woman rolled her eyes at her husband's answer. "I think you just want them to suffer with you."

"I'm wounded by your words, madam."

This had Riza laughing. Roy's chest puffed up at having made her smile again. Perhaps, this was the exact thing Riza had needed – a night off. Regardless of any of the torture he was about to face in the coming hours, Roy couldn't bring himself to regret his decision. He would do anything to keep that smile alive on Riza's face forever.

"Okay." The woman finally agreed, the grin never leaving her face. "I appreciate it. I hope you know though, that if things get tough, you can come get me at any point in time."

"Trust me," Roy assured her, pulling her close to his side. "Everything will be fine."

Everything was not fine.

Sure, things had started out alright – but Roy was pretty sure that he would be completely grey by the end of the night.

For the first hour, Riza had stayed by his side as they greeted the parents of the little girls' who entered their home. Both parents, having always been very involved with their daughter's schooling, recognized many of the adults who usually stood outside Central Children's Daycare. Introductions were made and the children were sent up the stairs to be greeted by excited exclamations from the other little girls who were already there.

That was when things took a turn for the worst.

He had no idea his daughter had befriended a child of Ishvalan descent.

Now really, he shouldn't have been surprised. Elizabeth was incredibly loving and friendly, so any differences between her and others, were usually swept under the rug by the innocent mind of the unprejudiced child. Even after the situation with Miss Abra at the daycare, Elizabeth still knew nothing of the history her parents had with Ishval.

Roy and Riza had just been wishing one of the girls' parents farewell, when a hulking figure of a man walked through the door. His appearance had both the Fuhrer and his wife pausing – though it had nothing to do with his height or the rippling muscles that peaked through the fabric of his shirt.

It was the white hair and telltale red eyes that caused their greetings to catch in their throats. Not only that, but the stern look on the man's face made it obvious that he wanted to be just about anywhere else but there.

From behind his leg – a little girl poked her head out to look up at the parents of her friend. Like her father, the girl's hair was white as snow with eyes the color of blood. They shared the same dark features – except where there was an expression of near hatred on the elder one's face, the little girl's expression held nothing but hesitance.

Riza was the first to recover from her surprise. Behind her, Roy could hear the sound of Breda and Havoc shuffling, as though preparing for a fight.

"Hello," Riza spoke softly, as she crouched down to the young girl's level, Mae still absconded in her arms. The child shrank back a bit behind her father's leg, but continued to stare at the pretty blonde woman before her. "What's your name?"

The girl had just opened her mouth to answer, when a flurried set of footsteps made their way down the stairs.

"Etha!"

From out of nowhere, Elizabeth scurried past her parents, already sporting her light pink pajamas. Disregarding her friend's timid disposition, the Fuhrer's daughter tugged the girl from out behind her hulking father's leg and pulled her into a tight hug.

At his side, Roy watched as Riza stood from her crouched position, ready to reprimand her daughter for being so rough with her friend – however, her words died in her throat.

Etha was smiling.

"Hi Lizzie," The young girl's voice was much quieter than her friend's, but just as excited. "Thank you for inviting me."

Elizabeth pulled back to smile at the girl. Standing together, they couldn't have been more different. With Elizabeth's hair dark as night and eyes nearly the same shade, she was a stark contrast to her white-haired and red-eyed friend – yet, none of those differences seemed to change the way they regarded the other.

The girl's father, on the other hand, seemed almost hyperaware of the differences between the girls in front of him.

At the top of the stairs, the five other girls who had already arrived, called for both Elizabeth and Etha to make their way up to the second floor. They were shouting about something that had happened on the popular children's radio show Roy had already set up for them to listen to.

"Come on, Etha!" Elizabeth tugged on the other girl's hand, dragging her over towards the stairs. "It's the good part!"

The little girl went to follow her friend, holding tightly to one strap of her backpack. Before she started her ascent up the stairs, she turned around to throw her father a quick smile and wave.

"Bye, Daddy!" Etha called as she was hauled up the staircase by her overenthusiastic, newly six-year-old friend. As they reached the top, the other girls squealed before grabbing their hands and tugging them back towards the nursery.

The three parents watched the two children as they were dragged off by the others, an awkward silence hanging over them following the exit of their respective daughters. Once again, Roy could hear Havoc and Breda shift nervously in their boots at the tension that seemed to engulf the room.

"I expect her to be returned in one piece."

The man's voice was deep, the sound of it rumbling in his muscular chest. The threat laced in those words went without being said, and while Roy wished he could be offended by such a vicious accusation, he couldn't say the man's worries were born from nothing. What he had done in Ishval could never be erased from the minds of those who had been made to suffer because of his actions.

"Of course, sir." Riza responded easily, though Roy could hear the tightness in her voice. She too was upset by the man's words. "Etha will be treated just as any other child in our home."

The man glared at Riza, as though measuring her words for any sign of deception. Roy could feel his spine straighten and fingers twitch at such a threatening stare. Although the Ishvalan father had many inches over him, Roy would not hesitate to defend his wife should it come to it.

Lucky for him, such a fight was not to transpire that night.

Without so much as introducing himself, the man turned on his heel and made his way out of the house. The door slammed behind him, causing all four adults left in the room to jump at the loud sound.

"Well, boss," Havoc drawled, walking up to his two old friends with a toothpick between his lips. "That went quite well."

Roy glared at the man, raising a dark brow in challenge. "I would really hate to know what you consider bad, then."

Havoc smirked in Roy's direction. "A pancake-shaped Fuhrer."

Breda tried to hide a chuckle behind his fist, feigning a coughing spell instead. At his two subordinates' behavior, Roy rolled his eyes.

"I know you two are upset that I didn't tell you what was going on tonight – " Havoc gave him a look that clearly said 'you think'. Roy ignored this and continued on. "However, I expect you to remain professional just as always. Keep in mind, this is a very important mission."

"It's a sleepover."

"It's a girl sleepover." Havoc corrected Breda, gesturing wildly at their military blues. "And here we are, decked out as though we're facing ole' Bradley."

Riza butted in, quickly – cutting off her husband's surely snide remark. "If it's really that much of an issue, I don't mind taking care of it."

Both Breda and Havoc went silent at this. From beside Riza, Roy was glaring at the two men, his eyes telling them that they better not accept such an offer. Both soldiers knew better, though. They had seen how different Riza had been upon their trips to the house, they knew she needed this reprieve more than anyone.

"Nah, Riza." Breda finally said, sending a supportive smile her way while shoving his hands into his pants' pockets. "Like I've always told you, we'll do anything for you."

Havoc nodded, agreeing with his friend's words. "Even if it means putting up with a few female brats for a couple of hours – we'll do it if it's for you."

Riza smiled gratefully at the two men, while Roy's expression turned sour.

"Are you saying you wouldn't do this for me?"

"Nope."

"Not at all."

Such insubordination had the Fuhrer's eye twitching – however, a loud bang and a yell from upstairs caused a pause in the conversation. Before any of them could react, a round of giggles broke out, the sound traveling down the stairs. Roy groaned at the thought of what that noise could have possibly been.

Riza was about to say something, when Mae began to fuss from her place in her mother's arms. Roy gestured for her to pass the baby over, but Riza shook her head.

"Let me bathe her and feed her before you take over." The woman bounced her daughter, as her fussing got louder. "That way you'll have an easier time putting her to sleep."

Roy was going to make a comment on how nothing seemed to help Mae sleep, even after four months of life – however, Riza had already started to make her way up the stairs. Even from his spot on the ground floor, the Fuhrer could hear his wife cooing at their daughter as she rounded the corner towards the master suite.

"So," Havoc drawled, clapping a hand on his boss's shoulder. "Is there a reason you didn't employ Becky to help you with this little venture?"

Roy glared at the man behind him. "Shut up, Havoc."

If Roy thought that the night couldn't get any worse than the awkward interaction that had kick-started the party, he was sorely mistaken.

The cake cutting had gone alright, besides a few cases of dropped icing and misplaced forks. One of Elizabeth's friends, Grace – if Roy was not mistaken – had shared offhandedly with the man as he passed her a piece of cake, that she was deathly allergic to nuts, causing Roy to pause in his action.

Elizabeth's cake was chocolate with nuts added into the icing of the middle layer.

Narrowly avoiding a potentially harrowing situation, the man had fished out a cookie from the pantry to give the girl instead while the other children enjoyed their cake. The small, blonde girl nibbled on her sugar cookie while telling Roy about the time she had nearly died after eating a sandwich that unknowingly contained peanuts. At the description of a swollen throat and difficulties breathing, Roy could feel himself growing pale.

Havoc simply laughed from behind him, watching as the Fuhrer's face grew more and more horrified. Breda would have laughed, too – however, he was distracted by his own piece of cake.

With that situation successful avoided, Roy actually felt like he was doing pretty good on his own.

After cake had been served, the girls had been redirected to the upstairs nursery. While Breda helped Elizabeth pick up her fallen dollhouse – the culprit of the loud sound they had all heard earlier – Riza entered the room with a freshly bathed Mae.

Upon the appearance of a baby, all the girls immediately turned their attention to the Fuhrer's wife.

"That's my sister, Mae!" Elizabeth told them excitedly, following the girls as they crowded around her mother's legs to get a better look. "I like to call her Mae Mae!"

Riza herself was already dressed in a pair of soft white pajamas with hair wet and cheeks flushed from her recent shower. Roy couldn't help but think she looked absolutely angelic as she began to approach him.

"She's all ready to go." The girl's mother said as she passed him the bundle of blankets. Mae didn't even fuss as she was transferred from the warmth of her mother to that of her father. "I've already fed her, so all she'll need is a good rock before bed."

"I can do that." Roy assured her, noting the worried look in her tired, amber eyes. "Go get some rest. I'll bring her to the cradle by the bed when we're done in here."

Though she still looked worried, Riza could not hide the near visible relief that suddenly flooded her body. Giving her husband one last grateful pat on the cheek, the woman kissed her young daughter's forehead, before taking her leave of the room.

Roy turned towards his men with Mae now cradled in his arms.

"So," He started, wincing visibly as Elizabeth and Etha squealed over something that had taken place over on the other side of the room. "I'm going to go put Mae to – "

"Uh, no you're not." Havoc reached out for the baby, his hands making a grabbing motion as though Roy were about to pass over a weapon. "You're staying here, boss. I'll take baby duty."

"If you hold her like that, you'll drop her!" Breda commented, also moving forward to get in on the action. The auburn-haired man didn't want to be stuck in the nursery with the young girls either. "At least give her to me, so she can rest in peace."

"Excuse me?" Havoc asked, turning to his friend, Mae completely forgotten. "What is that supposed to mean? I have four boys!"

"Which I have never seen you hold!"

"What?! That's bullshit!"

A chorus of tiny gasps caused the men to pause in their argument. Looking over to where the seven girls were crowded around the dollhouse on the opposite side of the room, the men were met with the shocked faces of each and every one of them. Havoc almost swallowed his toothpick in fear, scared to turn and see the dark look that was surely developing on the Fuhrer's face.

"Breda, take the baby."

Havoc winced at the Fuhrer's flat tone, not even turning to watch as Mae was placed in Breda's arms. The man made himself scarce as he opened the door to Mae's small room without even throwing a glance behind him.

While the girls continued to stare, Roy clapped Havoc harshly on the back. To the girls, it would appear to be a friendly gesture – however, Havoc knew better. Instead of retracting his hand after placing it on his subordinate's back, the Fuhrer continued to hold on to the fabric of his jacket.

"Hey, Lizzie?" Roy called out, prodding Havoc to step forward and towards the girls who were still staring in their direction. "Didn't you say earlier that you wanted to play doctor?"

Havoc gulped as a round of cheers erupted from the other side of the room.

He really needed to learn to keep his mouth shut.

Roy had thought that forcing Havoc to partake in a game of doctor with the girls would somehow end up saving him from a similar fate – however, he had been wrong.

While he was already worried that all Elizabeth's friends would go home and tell their parents that the Fuhrer had some very foul-mouthed subordinates, he was even more worried that Etha's father would come and pound him into the ground for allowing his daughter to be exposed to such language. After all, the Ishvalan people were very religious, and he couldn't remember a time when he had ever heard any of them curse.

So, to distract the girls from the word that Havoc had let slip, Roy went about helping them create a makeshift "stretcher" to put the very unhappy man on.

Serves him right, Roy thought to himself as he fluffed up Havoc's pillow a bit more aggressively than any medical professional ever would. The blonde Captain gave his superior a withering look.

"Really, sir?"

Roy shrugged, allowing the young girls to take over from there, already having gathered all their "equipment" to perform a successful "surgery". The man found it all very amusing, until a tiny tug at the bottom of his jacket had him turning.

"Mr. Fuhrer Mustang, sir?" A small, black-haired child, who he believed was named Abigail, was pulling on the fabric of his coat. "Aren't you going to play with us?"

Roy opened his mouth to say no, when Elizabeth – appearing out of nowhere – began to tug at him a little more aggressively than her friend. "Yes! Yes! Yes! Daddy come play!"

"Lizzie, I don't – "

"Yeah, Daddy." Havoc mimicked the voice of a young girl from his spot on the floor. Grace was sat on his chest with a plastic stethoscope, trying to listen to the man's heart. "Come play with us."

"Havoc," Roy warned as his daughter continued to tug on his hand, leading him over to a second "stretcher" that the girls had prepared. "I don't ever want to hear those words from your mouth ever again."

The blonde man rolled his eyes, wincing as Grace reached out to hold his lids open to shine a light into them. From behind her, a young Alice scribbled away on a notepad, appearing to take notes as Grace shouted out random observations to her.

Roy was forced to remove his coat as his daughter pushed him back on to the pallet. He was suddenly surrounded by Etha, Abigail, and Lizzie, all who had donned white robes from his daughter's closet to give them the appearance of medical physicians. Two sisters, Helen and Margaret, rushed from the room to go retrieve something from Elizabeth's craft table.

"Hurry!" Elizabeth shouted after them, taking her plastic stethoscope from Grace to listen to her father's own pounding heart. "We're losing him!"

Noticing the wide-eyed stare of her father, Elizabeth leaned down with her hands on her hips. The look she gave him was quite stern. "Daddy, you have to at least act like you're dying."

Having been on the brink of death many times before, Roy had no problem playing the part of a dying patient. After heaving a sigh of resignation, the man relaxed on his back with eyes closed, mentally counting down the hours before he could finally force the girls to go to bed.

Despite the flurry of activity going on around him, and the poking and prodding courtesy of his daughter, Roy was able to get pretty relaxed atop the pallet. After a long week of talks related to a skirmish with Aerugo along the border, the man was definitely ready for a long night of rest alongside his wife.

He almost allowed himself to get lost in the image of her soft, warm body against his – when something cold and wet landed squarely on his forehead. The sensation caused his eyes to pop open, only to be met with a curious blue pair.

Helen had returned with a wet cloth and had been instructed to place it on the Fuhrer's head in an attempt to "lower" his "fever". The girl was the youngest of the bunch and the smallest as well, following the orders of the older children as they continued to move around him in mock concern.

Before Roy could comment on the water dripping into his eyes, another cold, wet sensation made him pause at it made itself known through the fabric of his shirt. From across the room, he could hear Havoc let out a yelp of surprise, as well.

"Lizzie?" Roy asked, as he tilted his head up to see what his daughter had just put on his stomach. His eyes nearly bugged out of his head as he watched her draw a circle with red paint over the area where his burn scar resided. "Lizzie! Where did you get that paint?!"

"Shhhh," The girl warned him, never pausing in her actions. "Daddy, we have to save you. I'm performing Alkahestry."

Roy groaned, knowing his wife was going to be unimpressed with the state of his shirt when she caught sight of it. "Lizzie – please, be careful. We don't want the paint to spi – "

Before he could even finish his sentence, a gasp broke out from the girl beside his daughter. Margaret, the dark-haired sister to the young child keeping vigil by his head, looked down at the floor in horror. The red paint can that had caused Roy such weariness, was now lying over on its side, its contents covering both the sheets of Roy's pallet and the side of his blue pants.

All the girls went silent as they stared at the mess in shock. Then, suddenly, a wail broke loose from Margaret.

"I didn't mean to Mr. Fuhrer!"

Roy, still surprised by the spilled paint all over his pants, hurriedly sat up to comfort the crying child. "Margaret, it's okay."

"Please don't arrest me!"

"Margaret," Roy reasoned, careful not to shift too much, lest he displace more red paint on to the floor of the nursery. "I'm not going to arrest you."

"I don't know, Margaret." Havoc commented from his spot on the other pallet, looking quite amused by all of this. "He's a pretty mean guy!"

"Havoc!"

The man's words only had the girl crying harder. "I wanna go home!"

While all the girls rushed to comfort their distressed friend – Roy groaned, while laying his head back down on the pallet. He was really starting to consider enlisting Rebecca's help, when the cold, wet cloth from before was placed back on to his forehead.

Looking up, Roy noticed that Helen was the only child who hadn't rushed to help her sister. Instead, she had remained by the Fuhrer's side with a bowl of water and a cold compress.

Wait a minute…

"Helen?" Roy asked, trying to gain the girl's attention. "Where did you get that water from?"

The facets were high in the manor's bathrooms, making it almost impossible for a small child to reach them unless there was a stool present. Even then, Elizabeth still had trouble reaching the knobs of the sink without the help of one of her parents. It made Roy wonder how a child of such small stature could have filled a bowl under one of the bathroom facets.

Unless…

"The toilet."

Times like these, made Roy wish he had birthed boys.

Breda returned to the room to find both Roy and Havoc sat on the floor and covered in paint. If he noticed the reddish tinge of Roy's freshly washed face, he said nothing.

The girls had convinced Roy to do "pretty" braids in their hair, after having seen Elizabeth come to school with them on more than one occasion. It was one of the perks of having grown up with a multitude of sisters. It was definitely something Riza was thankful for, since she had little experience with hair that was not her own.

Currently, the Fuhrer sat braiding Margaret's hair, the young girl's tears finally dried after having had her friends calm her down. No longer scared of the man behind her, the girl had agreed to let him braid her hair. Elizabeth, who sat beside her with her dark hair already braided, pointed excitedly at something in the book that lay before them.

Havoc stood from his place on the floor to greet Breda, pointing towards the mess of sheets and paint on the floor. "Want to give me a hand?"

Breda didn't even ask questions as he walked over to assist his comrade.

"I think Felix is really cute." Grace was saying, playing dolls with both Alice and Abigail. Helen scooted over so that she could watch the scene unfolding. "We shared paints last week."

"Ohhhhhh!" The two other five-year-olds giggled, their faces flushed with the idea of young love. Roy couldn't help but hope it would be a few years before he caught his dear Elizabeth saying such things about the males in her class.

As it was, his daughter seemed rather preoccupied with her book, gesturing for Etha to come over so she could show her something as well.

Roy smiled at her actions. His daughter certainly took after both him and his wife – always curious and always learning. It wouldn't surprise him, if in a few years time, she approached him about wanting to learn alchemy. He still wasn't quite sure how to feel about that one.

Once all the girls had their hair braided and their sleeping mats had been set up, Roy employed Breda to read them all a bedtime story in an attempt to tire them out. Though, from the look of their drooping eyes, it didn't seem like the men were going to have any trouble getting the girls to sleep.

While Breda and Havoc acted out the scenes from a bedtime story, eliciting giggles from the young girls curled up on the floor, Roy went to go check on Mae.

The infant was resting peacefully in her room that lay adjacent to the nursery. Roy was surprised that the noise hadn't disturbed her – however, with all the crying she had done over the past few days, the man figured she was just about as tired as her mother was. Careful not to disturb her rest, Roy picked the girl up from her crib to transport her back to the master suite.

After depositing his daughter into the small crib in his bedroom, Roy returned to the nursery, surprised to find it quieter than before.

The sight that lay before him had the Fuhrer nearly bursting into laughter.

Havoc and Breda were sat in two small nursery chairs, snoring loudly with both their heads thrown back. From the looks of it, all the girls seemed to be asleep as well.

Chuckling quietly to himself, Roy made his way over to where his daughter lay in the middle of it all. The man leaned over quick, pressing a gentle kiss to the skin of her forehead.

"Happy Birthday, Lizzie."

Roy was about to stand up once more, when a quiet, little voice had him pausing.

"Thank you, Daddy." Lizzie murmured before turning over, her new doll clutched tightly to her chest. It had been a present from her great grandpa Grumman.

"You're welcome, Lizzie." Roy replied, giving his daughter one last kiss to the head before turning the lights of the room off. With Breda and Havoc watching over them, Roy was sure the girls would be more than okay for the rest of the night.

After washing up and changing from his now ruined uniform, Roy was finally able to make it into bed to join his wife in blissful slumber. She had looked so cozy when he had moved Mae to their bedroom earlier, that all he had wanted to do was forego his nightly routine to join her.

Careful not to disturb Mae where she lay in her crib, Roy quietly reentered the room and made his way to the bed. After situating himself under the sheets, the man turned towards his wife and pulled her close to his chest, nuzzling his face in her hair.

Riza hummed tiredly. "How'd it go?"

Roy was too tired to explain the dramatics of the night. Instead, he pulled his wife closer and snuggled deeper into her embrace. "It went fine."

"Thank you." Riza kissed his chest tiredly, rubbing her nose against the skin there. "I needed a break."

"I know." Roy rubbed her back in comfort. "I certainly didn't mind giving you one."

Riza gave no response, already slumbering once more. Roy was just about to join her, when a shrill sound broke him from his semi-conscious state.

Mae had started to cry.

Fighting back a groan, Roy was just about to lift his head off his pillow when the door to his bedroom burst open and Elizabeth pushed her way through.

"Daddy!" The young girl exclaimed, ignoring the cries of her younger sister as she rushed over to her father's side. "Helen threw up on the floor!"

Now, Roy did groan.

He was really starting to hate sleepovers.

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fightagainstcovid · 4 years ago

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Fight Against Covid

Before we talk about Fight Against Flu it is important to understand communicable and non-communicable diseases (NCD - also referred to as chronic disease). Communicable diseases are those that are caused by germs and they spread from one person to another. Non-communicable diseases on the other hand do not spread from one person to another, they last longer and progress slowly. Most common NCD are Heart Disease, Diabetes, Respiratory disorders like Asthma and COPD, Cancer, Arthritis, GI disorders etc. Challenges of managing communicable vs. non communicable diseases are vastly different and they are managed through different strategies. The strategies used to fight communicable disease are – develop immunity against the pathogen using a vaccine, breaking the chain of infection, treat the infected person using approved therapies.

It has been observed that the immune responses to the virus develop severe patches in the lungs. Hence, in order to manage these patches, the standard treatment followed at present is use of anticoagulants. If that does not work, then start with steroids on day 5 – 6 after the onset of Covid.

Before I go further into the reasons for lung infection and its subsequent treatment, I would like to share my own story. I have suffered from GERD for a very long time. GERD is accompanied by comorbid conditions like Asthma, and/or COPD. My lungs became very weak with severe phlegm and cough all the time. Additionally, I used to get fever every three months. Whether this was some bacterial infection or viral/flu is difficult for me to say because I had all symptoms viral fever but my doctors always prescribed antibiotics and I got better with that. Meanwhile, I started experiments with Yoga and diet management to deal with my GERD and lungs related problems. During this time I realized that my symptoms, particularly coughing, would aggravate whenever I had intestinal spasms. Over the next few years I focused on this aspect which I am going to explain now.

In my view intestinal spasms have an important role to play in most lungs related problems. And if we can manage intestinal spasms we can reduce the impact on lungs.

Let me introduce one more topic here – the Bristol Stool Scale.

The Bristol stool scale is a diagnostic medical tool designed to classify the form of human faeces into seven categories. It was developed at the Bristol Royal Infirmary as a clinical assessment tool in 1997. The scale is defined as follows.

Type 1: Separate hard lumps, like nuts (difficult to pass and can be black)

Type 2: Sausage-shaped, but lumpy

Type 3: Sausage shaped with cracks (can be black)

Type 4: Sausage shaped, smooth and soft (average stool)

Type 5: Soft blobs with clear cut edges

Type 6: Fluffy pieces with ragged edges, a mushy stool (diarrhoea)

Type 7: Watery, no solid pieces, entirely liquid (diarrhoea)

Type 1 and 2 indicate constipation,

Type 3 and 4 ideal stool condition

Type 5 indicating lack of dietary fiber

Type 6 and 7 indicate diarrhoea

What I observed is that intestinal spasms have a strong correlation to the Bristol stool scale and that if we can maintain a patient, suffering from lung infection, at the type 3 and 4 on the BSS it would ease out their symptoms including fever. Following chart explains the relationship between BSS and fever.

In case of COVID 19 or any viral infection if a person is kept on a diet that would help a patient’s stool formation to be at Type 3 or 4 then time to recovery would be faster and require less hospital resources.

I recommend a high fruit diet which will help in bringing the fever back to normal with 24 – 36 hours. Once fever is under control Covid infection will go away in 1 to 2 week time.

Here are some key features of the high fruit diet:

Start the day with a fruit. No coffee/tea etc.

Give a gap between fruit and breakfast

Give atleast 4 hour gap between breakfast and lunch. During this time, have only fruits. No snacks/tea/coffee etc.

Follow each meal with a fruit within 20 – 30 min

Again give a 4 hour gap between lunch and dinner

Finish dinner before 6 PM

End the day with a fruit or salad after dinner

I am sharing my personal encounter with Covid 19. So far I have been able to help 8 patients recover from Covid – 6 in first wave and 2 in second wave.

My In-laws

In August 2020, my in-laws tested positive for Covid 19. Both in their mid 70s, one of them being a cancer patient too, were quite scared of getting admitted to the hospital. Both had been running fever for past few days and were feeling weak. However, their condition was not serious. So, we opted for home isolation and I decided to stay with them. From the start of the pandemic I have felt that high fruit diet is a best solution to cure a Covid 19 infection. I put them on high fruit diet which brought their fever down within 24 hours. They did not develop fever after that and fully recovered in 5 days. I, having stayed in close contact with them, throughout this period, have not had any infection either.

My Wife and Daughter

In November 7, 2020 my wife also got Covid infection. She tested with CT value of 16. A day later my daughter also complained of severe headache and high fever. Both got isolated at home in one room. Again, we treated them with high fruit diet treatment. Both recovered from fever and headache in 36 hours. We got second RTPCR test done after 14 days. My wife still tested positive even though she had fully recovered and had no symptoms. Best part of this plan is that it does not leave the person with weakness or any after-effects.

My Neighbor

In Feb 2021 my neighbor knocked on my door. She said that her daughter in-law who lives in Dubai has tested positive for Covid. She was running fever of about 100 C for three days and on the fourth day her fever shot up to 102 C. My neighbor wanted to know how did we manage Covid when my wife had it. I asked her to share the contact of her daughter in-law and I will discuss with her. Again, I suggested her the same high fruit diet and within 24 hrs her fever had come to normal. She still had diarrhea for another day but she fully recovered in 3 days.

My Friend post Covid

A friend of mine suffered from Covid and got admitted to the hospital. I got to know of his condition after 7-8 days of his treatment at the hospital. He had mostly recovered by then but he was feeling very week. I suggested him the same high fruit diet. His doctors did not allow him fruits while his stay in the hospital. However, after his discharge he followed my diet plan. He said that he greatly benefited following the diet plan and returned to normal life very quickly.

A friend observed Covid symptoms. He contacted me and started following the diet plan as I recommended. It took a week for him to fully recover. He did not get into any complications except fever for 4 days. This was in the second wave of the Covid

A neighbor tested positive for covid he recovered within one day by taking high fruit diet for his dinner.

Munish Aggarwal

About the Author

I have been leading IT solutions for Healthcare for about 25 years. During this time I have managed multiple different type of projects including clinical trials for pharmaceutical drugs, Healthcare analytics to support population health and wellness. I have also done a certification in Population Health Nutrition from Indian Institute of Population Health.

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iwantthedean · 5 years ago

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A Christmas Surprise

True Fluff Series

Word Count: Summary: A new chapter starts for you and Dean. Warnings: None? A/N: I remember when I first had the idea for this series. It was the first time someone asked to be tagged in any of my fics. It was the first series to get over 100 notes on a post. It was the first of many things where this blog is concerned, actually. And now, here we are, at the end. Thank you to everyone who has enjoyed reading it as much as I have enjoyed writing it. Merry Christmas, Merry Everything :)

As you dusted off the shelves in the living room, you stopped at the trifold frame of the family pictures taken at the beginning of the month. The snow was freshly fallen, you and your boys were in coordinating outfits, and even Benny had smiled enough to get some good shots.

Thinking back to two years and a few weeks before today, when Mandy had first tried to convince you to go on that blind date with Dean, you never would have thought this was where your life would be now. Maybe you had been slow to allow yourself to admit it, but Dean had been The One from the first time you laid eyes on him in that restaurant.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” Your thoughts were interrupted by the very object of them. Dean’s cologne invaded your senses as his strong arms wrapped around your shoulders.

You let out a contented sigh. “Just thinking about how far we’ve come. Two years ago, after the first twelve dates, there was so much ahead of us. There still is, but it’s been a busy two years.”

“That it has,” Dean agreed, kissing your cheek. “Benny’s napping and I’m ready to go — why don’t you let me finish this cleaning, and you go take your time getting ready?”

“I wish I could, but there’s still a couple side dishes I need to get in the oven and —”

Dean pressed his lips to yours, interrupting your excuses. “Pretty girl, I’m here to help you. And you know if we’re not ready to eat right when everyone gets here, it’s not a big deal. C’mon now, you don’t get hardly enough time for yourself anymore.”

“And it’s only going to be less,” you mumbled, handing the duster over to your husband.

“What’d you say?”

You shrugged and smiled. “Nothing. Thanks for the help. I’ll try not to be too long.”

Before you could get too far, Dean swatted you lightly on the rear with the duster you yelped, then quickly covered your mouth. Both of you paused for a moment, not even blinking, waiting to see if you had woken the baby.

“You got lucky, woman,” Dean chuckled when no cries were heard.

“You told me to take my time getting ready, Sparky. He’d be your responsibility then,” you teased back.

* * * * *

While Y/N showered and got herself ready for all of the family coming to invade the house in a couple of hours, Dean finished up the cleaning and got started on boiling and grating potatoes for the funeral potatoes. Frozen hashbrowns were just as good, Dean had assured his wife, but she had insisted on freshly grated ones for today, since it was a special occasion. In the last few weeks, she had been so adamant about having things a certain way — the holidays were doing a number on her this year.

Just as he was putting the grated potatoes in the fridge to cool for a while, the phone rang. He hurried to answer it before the loud trill woke Benny. A cranky baby at a family function was no fun; Dean had learned that early on.

“Sammy, what’s up?” Dean greeted, checking what else was on Y/N’s to-do list that he could maybe get started on for her.

“Hey, Jess’s parents are down with the flu — do you mind if Caitlin and Jeremy join?”

“Not at all. The more the merrier, right? Y/N’s got gifts for them and the twins, anyway.”

Sam thanked Dean for being so flexible, then the brothers ended the call. While Dean went to work on the next thing, he thought about all of the kids — Eli, Hunter, Benny, the twins — playing together while the adults sat around and chatted. The twins were just about in the middle of Hunter and Benny, so having them all together usually worked out nicely.

When Y/N came down, ready to finish tackling her hostess preparation duties, Dean took the potatoes out of the fridge to finish putting the casserole together, and informed her about the extra guests.

Immediately, she began to panic. “What if we don’t have enough food? Are they going to feel awkward around everyone? Should I change the sheets on the guest bed in case they need to sleep over?”

Dean chuckled and pulled her into his arms. “Babe, why are you freaking out? There’s plenty of food, there always is. They’ve been around the rest of our family before. Why would they need to sleep over? They don’t live very far, the weather is fine. You’ve got to take a deep breath. You love Christmas — what’s got you so pent up this year? Is it something I did?”

She swallowed so hard, Dean could almost here it. “Not — not exactly.”

He frowned and crossed his arms over his chest. “Not exactly?”

Y/N looked anywhere but at him. He hooked a finger under her chin and directed her attention back to him.

“‘Fess up, pretty girl.”

With a sigh, Y/N pulled away from from his hand and went into the front room. When she returned, she handed Dean a small, flat package. The wrapping paper was a green plaid, and there was a gold bow stuck to the top corner. The tag read, ‘To: Daddy’, but the ‘From’ had been left blank.

Wondering how any present from Benny could have been the cause of his wife’s tension, Dean tore into the package. He opened the lid to the box. Nestled carefully into white tissue paper was a positive pregnancy test and a framed sonogram. Above the picture was the caption, ‘And then there were four …’

Dean set the box on the table, then took out the frame and stared at it. He remembered the first time he had seen Benny on an ultrasound; he was sure that nothing would ever take his breath away quite like that first peek at his firstborn. In this moment, however, Dean was breathless and speechless.

“Really?”

Y/N’s eyes watered with tears. “Yeah. I know it’s sooner than we planned, so I was going to get through tonight then give that to you, but this seemed like as good a time as any.”

“When do you think …?”

She let out a deep breath. “Sometime around Halloween, I think. I’m about nine weeks. Due around Fourth of July.”

Dean set the frame down and pulled his wife into his arms. He remembered the first time he had hugged her, and about every moment in between. Each of those moments had made his life better and better. He removed his hands from around her to kiss her before kneeling down to kiss her abdomen.

“Another baby,” he whispered to himself. “More feedings, more diapers … I still can’t wait.”

She smiled and blinked out a few happy tears. Dean stood and wiped them away before hugging her around the shoulders again.

“I’m glad you’re happy and excited. I was a little worried,” she confessed. Y/N looked up at him, eyes twinkling with excitement. “Merry Christmas, Sparky.”

“Merry Christmas, pretty girl,” Dean returned, leaning down to kiss her.

* * * * * * * * * *

The Whole Shebang: @illisea @ashleymalfoy @busybee612 @mrswhozeewhatsis @sherlock44 @ravenesque @feelmyroarrrr @atc74 @theplaidshirtmadness @blacktithe7 @moonlessnight14 @kitchenwitchsuperwhovian @smoothdogsgirl @melbrandes @xtina2191 @spnbaby-67 @emoryhemsworth @goldenolaf25 @gabriels-trix @applesugar88 @rainflowermoon @deansgirl215 @thisismysecrethappyplace @calaofnoldor @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @sleepylunarwolf @chances-and-miracles @sandlee44 @foxyjwls007

Two for the Money: @jayankles @akshi8278 @jensensjaredsandmishaslover @supernatural-jackles @adoptdontshoppets

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withyounct · 5 years ago

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What’s wrong kid? (5)

Reader X Single dad!Jaehyun

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Words: 3.3k

Prompt: You notice a child crying at a school playground. You decide to see what’s up and meet an extremely stressed/extremely handsome father.

Prev | Next

A/n: I wrote some sad shit in the middle… Enjoy!

Time went by smoothly. You would pick up Hyunjin and hangout with Jaehyun when he got home at night, all while being a productive college student. Over time you two went on more dates and even brought Hyunjin along for the ride on a few of them. You learned that Hyunjin was a natural at ice skating and Jaehyun signed her up for the children’s class. Everything was pretty mundane for the most part. However, midterms where closing in and Jaehyun’s project was in full swing. Other than a few lunch dates off campus and dinner every now and again, you barely saw each other. There were times that you fell asleep on his couch while studying and found yourself waking up in his room the next morning. He would always leave notes about how cute your sleeping habits were or that he made breakfast and Hyunjin’s lunch before leaving, so you could sleep in if you wanted.

Hyunjin, being the sweetest child ever, would help you in any way she could. She would make you little snacks while you studied, picked dinners that didn’t take much time to make, offer to help you make flash cards, and even going as far as putting herself to bed. You about cried at how much of an angel she was.

After a few agonizing, brain numbing, weeks you were done with midterms and free to actually breathe.

Or so you thought.

It was Friday and you left your friends early to go pick up Hyunjin’s skating gear from her house before picking her up. She had missed several days of class because of how busy you and Jaehyun were. She of course was a saint about it, and you promised that she could skate to her hearts content when exams were done. She was immediately excited when she entered the car and bounced around the whole way there. She spotted her friends the moment she entered the building, taking her stuff, she waved you bye. You smiled at her retreating figure and found your usual spot on the bleachers.

Sighing, you ran your fingers through your hair. You weren’t feeling great, but blamed it on fatigue. One of the mothers sitting in front of you asked if you were alright. Smiling, you lied. You knew you were having the telling signs of a cold creeping up on you, but having just finished exams you convinced yourself you weren’t that unlucky. An hour and a half later class ended, but Hyunjin wanted to stay a little longer and work on her spins. The coldness of the arena was getting to you more than usual at this point, but since it was kind of your fault she was behind in class, you let her. The next thirty minutes were torture for you and no amount of tugging on your sweater could warm you. You called Hyunjin and told her it was time to go with the promise of bringing her back tomorrow.

“Y/n are you okay?” Hyunjin asked as you were making dinner. She sat on top of the island with your help. You nodded your head and patted hers. As you tried to walk away she held on to the sleeves of your sweater and looked at you unconvinced.

“You look just like your father right now.” You laughed. “I’m okay. Just a little tired, promise.” You pinched her cheeks and went back to making dinner. You were thankful at how chatty Hyunjin was, she went on and on about everything and you zoned out. The rest of the evening went by peacefully and you were putting Hyunjin to sleep. On your way down the hall you heard the front door close. Turning into the living room your vision started to haze and you swayed to the side. In a matter of seconds Jaehyun was at your side.

“Hey are you okay?” He asked. He led you to the couch and felt your head. “Y/n, you’re burning up.” He stated. You leaned into the coolness of his hand and sighed.

“I should get home.” You whispered.

“No, you’re not going anywhere. You can’t walk without swaying let alone drive.” You were about to protest, but the look on his face was final. There was a little voice in the back of your head reminding you of how his wife died and you sat silently. Jaehyun pulled out his phone and pondered for a moment before dialing a number. He looked down at your panting figure while it rang.

“Taeyong I need a favor. Y/n is running a fever. If it’s not too much trouble, can you take Hyunjin for the weekend, so I can nurse her back to health without the risk of Hyunjin getting sick as well?”

“Say less. I'm on my way.” Taeyong replied without hesitation before hanging up. About twenty minutes later he showed up with an obscene about of medicine and other cold essentials. He cooed sadly at your small figure in the blanket burrito Jaehyun wrapped you in. He was busy petting your head while Jaehyun went to pack a few things for Hyunjin and retrieve her. She was very confused, but hugged your burrito form and left with Taeyong.

Jaehyun picked you up and transferred you to his room. There he buried you under more covers and it was getting hard to breathe, but looking at his concerned face, you kept it to yourself. He left to make you soup with the stuff Taeyong had bought and medicine. You stared at the ceiling bored until he came back. He sat by your side while you ate and tried to give you the liquid medicine afterwards. You, being a complete child, squirmed away from him and made a face. After a few seconds of squinting at each other you took it.

“So, a biology major who hates medicine?” He laughed as he laid you back down.

“Shut up, I'm dying.” You pouted. You looked up at him and bit your lip. “You know, my roommates wouldn’t mind picking me up. I don’t want you to get sick.”

Jaehyun looked at you a bit hurt. “No. You do so much for me and Hyunjin, so let me do this one thing, as your boyfriend, for you.” He pleaded, gently moving some strands of hair out of your face. You wiggled your way to him and placed your head on his thigh.

“Fine.” You muttered. He smiled and ran his fingers through your hair.

“Plus, it’s a good thing that I'm a responsible adult and got my flu shot.” He stated and there was a heavy silence from your end.

“Man, I knew I was forgetting something…” You laughed awkwardly. The last thing you remembered before falling asleep was Jaehyun trying to suffocate you with a pillow.

You woke up in the middle of the night feeling ten times worse. Sitting up you felt as if you were trying to cough up your lungs. Jaehyun rushed into the room.

“You okay? Never mind, dumb question.” He sat by you and rubbed your back until you calmed down. He left briefly to make you tea and held your back to his chest while you drank.

“This sucks.” You whined, handing him the empty mug. You turned and buried your face in his chest.

“I'm going to need you to always act this cute.” Jaehyun laughed while wrapping his arms around you.

“Jaehyun, I'm dying.” You whined into his chest; you felt the vibration of his laughter as well as his steady heartbeat.

“But you're so cute.” He kissed the crown of your head. You stayed like this and felt yourself drift away as Jaehyun rocked you back and forth.

The next morning you were surprised with breakfast in bed and a ridiculous amount of cuddles. Jaehyun had woken up pretty early to stop by your place, grab you a few things, and deal with a worried Kun and Ten. As the afternoon approached you got tired of laying down and wanted to walk around for a bit. Jaehyun held your cheeks in his hands to check your temperature. After squishing them, he decide that sitting in the garden and getting fresh air would do you good.

You held your arms out to be picked up and Jaehyun had to take a moment to compose himself at how cute you were. He very happily carried you outside, spinning you around every now and again.

Thankfully it was a pretty day out. You decide to sit on the grass while Jaehyun sat on one of the benches. You laid back and soaked up the warmth of the sun. Smiling, you began to describe the meaning of the various plants across the large garden. Jaehyun, surprised at your vast knowledge, moved to sit by you.

“Peace Lilly, peace and hope. Usually given after someone has died.” You said the last part quietly. You both stared silently at the large plant. It was alone in the greenhouse at the center of the garden. It was beautiful in a haunting way.

“Lilies were her favorite flower. The irony of that.” Jaehyun said suddenly. “I met her freshman year. We were both at a party neither of us wanted to be at, but had really pushy friends. I had finally escaped them and was hanging out outside when she appeared. She was so beautiful and there was an air of confidence that clung to her. I downed my drink, calmed my nerves, and walked up to her.”

You smiled softly, imagining a nervous fetus Jaehyun. You pulled your knees up and leaned on them.

“We talked for hours about everything. She was an English and education double major and wanted to be a teacher. At the time I was undecided and had no idea what I wanted to do. She hated coffee and I can’t function without it. She loved mornings and signed up only for morning classes, while I picked the latest ones I could. We were so different, but we just clicked. I asked her out on a date right there in then. She thought I was drunk and not in my right mind, but I was adamant, and we went on a café date the next day.” He laughed. “We dated for a few years and she was the one that pushed me to do architecture. I screwed up and got her pregnant; we found out and she wanted to keep it. At first I didn’t and panicked, we were both young and way over our heads to raise a child, but she sat me down and told me that we’ll make it work. She finished up the semester and put college on hold. That was around the time I proposed to her. She said yes of course. We had, in my opinion, one of the greatest weddings two college students could have. Taeil was our DJ and it was awesome. She had Hyunjin with no difficulties and the first thing I remember was how small she was. They placed her in my hands, and I was afraid that I would hurt her if I held to tight. When she got discharged from the hospital I baby proofed the whole apartment to an outrageous extent. Hyunjin couldn’t even hold her head up and I was worried about her bumping into the corner of the table.” He sighed, running his hand through his hair. “Two years later, I finished up school and was interning when I got the call. Some drunk asshole collided with her car on the driver’s side. She died instantly. Hyunjin was in the back seat right behind her; it was a miracle she survived. Hyunjin was in the hospital for a few weeks for broken ribs and trauma. She used to have nightmares about that night, and I would hold her until she fell asleep. She hasn’t had any in almost two years, but she doesn’t talk about her mother much.”

You didn’t know you were crying until Jaehyun wiped one of your tears from your cheek.

“Sorry. Dead wife talk with my girlfriend is inappropriate.” He laughed, but there wasn’t any mirth behind it.

“No, I'm happy you told me.” You tried to smile through the tears, but it slowly faded. “I'm really sorry.” You wept. No matter how hard you tried, the tears didn’t stop. Your heart physically ached for him. He continued to wipe your tears until you calmed down.

Jaehyun tried his hardest to make you smile and resulted in saying really cringey jokes, which, for some reason, worked.

You sneezed and Jaehyun, laughing, said it was time to go back to quarantine. He picked you up once more and took you back to his room. You spent the rest of the afternoon reading a book off of his bookshelf while he worked on his laptop next to you.

“I used to get sick a lot as a child.” You said having the overwhelming feeling to share something personal. Jaehyun trusted you enough to know about his past, so you thought you would extend the same courtesy. He shut his laptop and turned your way, giving you his undivided attention.

“I was born with a pretty big hole in my heart and not in the clich�� way. It’s called atrial septal defect, and it’s not uncommon for infants. It usually closes itself up, but mine was too large for that, so I had surgery. Along with that I was a pretty unhealthy child. Low iron deficiency, prone to anemia, asthma. Colds turned to fevers quick and would leave me bed ridden for days. I remember when I was in elementary school we were going on a field trip to the mountains. I knew I was getting a cold, but I didn’t want to miss it. So, I didn’t say anything. I had my inhaler, so I thought I would be fine. Like an inhaler was a cure all.” You laughed. “We were walking about when I started to feel dizzy and breathing was getting harder. I panicked and forgot I had my inhaler and eventually fainted. My friend, Lucas, somehow got me on his back and carried me to one of the teachers. We’re still friends to this day.” You smiled. “I woke up and my parents were there. I remember how mad they were. When I got home I was grounded for being so reckless.”

“You were just a kid. A sick one at that.” He furrowed his brows.

“Yeah well they weren’t great. They divorced when I was in middle school and have since remarried. I barely talk to them. I'm a hundred percent sure me being sick all the time put a strain on their marriage and they just wanted an escape from each other and me.”

“That’s not true. Parents unconditionally love their kids no matter what.” He argued.

“That’s sweet that you think that, but not all parents are as amazing as you. Unfortunately, the world doesn’t work that way.” You smiled. “My father was the first to move away and I haven’t talked to him in years. I lived with my mother. Well kind of. Her now husband moved in and they had a healthly boy, who she loves more than anything. I got a job while I was in high school and met the rest of my friends during that time and would spend more time at their houses than my own. Since moving to college, I haven’t talked to either of them and that’s fine with me.”

“Wow.” Jaehyun said softly.

“Yeah.” You chuckled. “But my friends are like my family and they get a kick out of babying me. Kun and Ten act as if they physically pushed me out their wombs and because of you I got two cool dads. And I have you and Hyunjin. So, all things given, I'm pretty spoiled.” You beamed.

Jaehyun had a pretty tough time separating himself from you, but you were getting hungry and he had to start preparing dinner. You offered to help him, but was told not to move an inch and was tasked with picking a non-horror movie to watch, even though it was technically his turn to pick the movie.

You ended up watching your favorite Ghibli movie.

The next day Jaehyun was working on stuff in his home office and you felt a lot better. You were walking around the garden again and noticed the peace lilly’s leaf tips started to turn brown. Looking around you found a watering can and watered the plant.

Monday morning rolled around and you were restored to full health. Jaehyun had dropped you off at home on his way to work. You had a hard time peeling your roommates off you when you entered the apartment. With many kicks and punches from your end, you got ready and left for class. The rest of the afternoon was a carbon copy of the morning. Your friends were overly worried about your health, and as sweet as it was and as much as you loved the attention and them, you wanted to choke them.

You left early, wanting to pick up a few things before getting Hyunjin. You smiled when you walked into the flower shop.

“Jungwoo?” You called. The said blonde appeared from around the corner and smiled at you.

“Y/n. Guess who passed the calculus mid-term? Me!” He sang happily. “Thanks for the notes.”

“Any time. I need help finding a couple of things.” Jungwoo, being a fairy incarnated, helped you find everything with ease. You paid and picked up Hyunjin. You told her that there was a task to complete after homework and she was more so excited than confused.

While she did her work, you moved all the things you bought to the garden. You yelled at Hyunjin to meet you there when she was done. About twenty minutes later she walked into the garden and entered the greenhouse in awe. You had bought new soil, plant food, and fertilizer all for the peace lilly as well sunflowers and lavenders to plant around it. You dug out a ladder from one of the back sheds and had lights placed next to it.

You learned over time that Hyunjin spoke with her eyes as well as her mouth and they were both screaming in excitement when you passed her a pair of children’s gardening gloves.

Jaehyun came home way early than usual and was confused when he found you both out back. Hyunjin saw her dad in the distance and ran to him screaming about how amazing everything is. She handed him her gloves, telling him to take over for a minute so she could use the bathroom. Perplexed, Jaehyun walked across the garden and into the greenhouse.

To say he was taken aback would be an understatement. The lilly was surrounded by rows of sunflowers and lavenders and the ceiling of the greenhouse was decorated in fairy lights.

“Okay before you say anything, I was walking by yesterday and the lilly wasn’t looking too hot and I had the spare time and I remember Hyunjin saying her favorite flower was sunflower and the lavenders paired nicely with everything and the lilly just looked really lonely in here and I hope I'm not overstepping any boundaries an-” You were too caught up in pointing at everything, defending yourself that you failed to realize Jaehyun level with you. He placed a chaste kiss on your lips before smiling. The look in his eyes was something that left you winded; it held an underlining message that you couldn’t decipher and before you could comment on it Hyunjin returned and the three of you finished tending to the garden.

Jaehyun spun a pen in between his fingers and stared off into space. He and his friends were in one of the conference rooms not doing anything, mainly just hiding from their secretaries and responsibilities.

“I'm in love with Y/n.” He said simply. The sudden statement caused Yuta to choke on his drink and eyes flew Jaehyun’s way.

“Holy shit.” Johnny smirked.

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doctor-paprika · 5 years ago

Text

MENTAL HEALTH AWARENESS MONTH

my dad and i are telling stories of childhood paranoia, ambulance trips, and being taken away due to our mental illnesses.

people encountered when i was [wrongly] 5150'd:

- a woman who was in my drama class as a specific helper to a retarded peer of mine. when class ended she came up to me and asked if i was okay. i shrugged, and she said she noticed i came in late. "i walk to school," i told her, "and i dressed too warm today." she asked me to come with her, telling me she could tell i was "sad" - i jokingly mentioned that i had been diagnosed with depression two years earlier. she escorted me to the office and disappeared. every time i saw her again before transferring to independent study, i shot daggers much bigger than my eyes, and would loudly tell others around how i despise it when people stick their noses into others business and how such noses deserve to be bitten off. she only spoke to me one time, to say she thought i had a pretty voice (as we were in drama class.)

- a counselor made up a story saying i brought up suicide to her, saying I intended to take my life (which was totally true but she had no way of knowing that.)

- a cop took me into a room where we were alone with the door closed so he could give me a pat down that involved excessive groping of my fourteen year old breasts and crotch, while grumbling into my ear about kids these days being sissies. i later found out he was impotent, as my mother had befriended his wife. I made sure every ear on campus heard such important news.

- two emt's. one driving, the other chatted with me in the back. she commented on my NIN sweatshirt (i miss that thing 😢) and got frustrated with the driver when he said he had never heard of NIN. She told him, "yes you have! You've at least heard the song Closer!"

- two psychiatrists who questioned me for about an hour. It was mostly pleasant back and forth conversation. I remember asking how I could get my backpack, but that had nothing to do with them. Finally, after asking the usual twenty thousand questions related to self harm, sexual history, drug use, and abuse in and outside of the home, looking puzzled, they asked me, "why are you here?" i truly had no idea.

- a man who was in a nice white room with me. the movie Willow played on a TV attached to the ceiling, and i will forever hate that movie now (I probably would have anyway.) the wall next to where I sat had the contents of what looked to be several noses stuck upon it, and as badly as i wanted to change seats, I did not want to break my invisibility spell. my eyes darted from the TV, to the man, to the wall, and over and over they dizzily swerved. the man was hitting his head against the wall, in a way that made it sound very painful, while repeating the statement, "MY FRIENDS CALL ME TUCAN SAM BECAUSE I CAN ONLY HANDLE TWO CANS OF BEER!" get it? like the avian spokesbird for that one cereal?

- a woman who handed me a cup and then watched me pee in it. the last clean drug test i had for a decade!

- my mom, who had been home from work with the flu, and was angry that she had to pick me up. soon joined by my dad, who was pissed that i had caused such a disrupt to everyones day. they both told me they had hacked into my myspace and knew i had been smoking weed (they are currently the biggest stoners i have ever witnessed, both wishing i would partake in such with them. o how times have changed!) luckily, i had kept the thieving of my father's norcos off of the internet at that time.

as you could probably guess i was never ready to ask for mental health help after that. drugs were much more fun than human interference anyway!

my dad is rambling about crop circles now, gotta blast! 🚀🙃👾🎭

#about me #mental health awareness month #5150 #bipolar disorder #actually bipolar #recovery #ACAB

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irrrationalfangirl · 5 years ago

Note

The reader is Mena’s wife but it’s a secret. They were supposed to tell the press but you got pregnant and the two of you decided that stress would not be good for the baby. Will knows because he is the would-be godfather of the child. One day, Mena is in a press conference in your hometown when your mom texts him and Will that you’re in labor. Mena and Will leaves leaving the press and cast confused.Next day the announcement of your baby girl and you is made and the world loves it.Thanks, love!

(not my gif)

You bounced your leg up and down as you sat on the toliet seat in your bathroom. You held a pregnancy stick in your hand. Positive. The test was positive. You had just assumed you were sick for the past couple days, but the stick in your hand said otherwise. You couldn’t believe it. You had only been married to the love of your life, Mena, for a year and a half. Maybe you two had fooled around too much. You paced back and forth in the bathroom. How were you going to tell Mena? Sure, you wanted kids, but not this early in your marriage. You placed your hand on your stomach and leaned against the toilet as your mind wandered. This continued on until you heard the door to your house open and close. He was home.

“Y/n? I’m home!,” your husband said as he walked upstairs. You exited the bathroom and waited for him. Once he saw you, his face lit up. “Hey. Guess what? I’m getting to work on ADR for Aladdin tomorrow with Will!,” he exclaimed. “I’m so excited. I’ve never done this ADR thing before!,”he said with a huge smile on his face. You smiled,but it was obvious you weren’t paying much attention. His smile dropped and he noticed you were outside the bathroom. “Oh, I’m sorry. Are you feeling better? I hope you haven’t stayed in the bathroom all day,” he said as he went to embrace you. “I’m fine...I think, but I’m sure I don’t have the flu or anything,” you replied. “That’s great. Maybe it’s just a stomach bug. It’ll pass,” he said, smiling at you. You leaned your head down and stared at the floor. “It’s going to last longer than that,” you said, cracking a smile. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’ll go away,” he said. “I mean. It’s not like you’re pregnant,” he said, laughing. Your eyes shot open and he noticed it. “Honey...you’re not pregnant, right?,” he asked. You looked up at him and nodded. He opened to bathroom door to find the positive pregnancy stick lying on the sink. “I’m going to be a dad?,” he whispered to himself. He held it in his hands as he looked back at you. “You’re pregnant!,” he exclaimed, running at you and picking you up, spinning you around in the air. “Hey. Be careful. Current fetus forming in here,” you told him, as you started to laugh. He sat you back on the ground. “Sorry, I’m just so excited!,” he told you. “Me too...actually. I was scared you weren’t going to like having kids this early, especially since that movie keeps you so busy,” you admitted. “Hey, it may have happened earlier than we expected, but we were always going to have kids someday. In our case, that someday just happens to be today,” he said, taking your hand in his and planting a kiss on your lips. You smiled. He was right. Maybe it was a good thing this happened already.

That night, as you both layed in bed, Mena pulled up your shirt and started tracing around your bare stomach. “When do you think this happened?,” he asked you. “Well, it couldn’t be from the wedding night. That was too long ago,” you replied. He immediately looked up at you. “The kitchen,” he said. You were confused for a second, but then you understood what he meant. Mena was making dinner in the kitchen a few weeks ago when you decided to “distract” him which led to you two fooling around in the kitchen. “Oh my goodness. I can’t believe that is where our first child was potentially created,” you said, starting to laugh. “Well I’m not the one who started us fooling around,” he said, sticking his tongue out at you. “Oh, shut up,” you replied. He placed a kiss on your stomach and then your cheek. He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close and you both fell asleep like that.

The next day, Mena was in the studio working on recording ADR with his costar and good friend, Will Smith. As the hours went on, Will noticed a difference in Mena’s demeanor.He was more quiet, but didn’t seem sad. When the executives were reviewing the recordings in the booth, they told them to just take a small break. Will took this opportunity to lean over to Mena and talk to him. “Hey,man. You good?,” he asked. “Oh, yeah. My wife’s having a baby so I’m still dumbfounded about it you know,” Mena replied. “You and y/n are having a kid?! And you’re just now telling me this,” he said, pushing his shoulder. “Sorry, we are keeping it a secret for press reasons to not stress y/n and the baby out. So, I’m trying not to bring it up,” Mena replied. “Oh. That’s amazing though, man. Congratulations,” Will told him. “Thanks,man,” Mena replied. A few seconds passed before Will spoke up again. “Can I ask you a serious question?,” he asked Mena. “Sure,” Mena replied.

“You did what now?!,” you yelled at Mena as he stood in the bedroom doorway. He dropped his head and clasped his hands together. “I told Will he could be the godfather...” “Of our child!,” you finished for him. He walked over to the bed and sat next to you. “Yes, but what could it hurt?,” he asked. You scoffed. “Just promise me you won’t go out assigning any more parental figures to our baby without letting me know beforehand,” you told him. He placed his hand on yours and pressed a kiss on your forehead. “I promise,” he replied. You rolled your eyes at him. “I can’t believe Will Smith is the godfather of my child,” you said, almost laughing. Mena laughed before kissing your tummy and getting up to get ready for bed.

About 8 1/2 months later:

Aladdin had finished post-production and press was starting. During one week of press, Mena received news the cast would be getting interviewed about 10 minutes from where you and him lived. Gosh, he hadn’t seen you in weeks because he had stayed busy promoting the film, he missed you and the baby so much. It was only in the past month that he had finally felt the baby kick when he caressed your stomach, but of course you had felt the baby kick much earlier. Your belly was the size of a large watermelon and Mena wondered if it hadn’t gotten any bigger. As soon as he saw the ultrasound of his future child, he wouldn’t stop talking to the baby through your stomach. You both decided to let the gender be a surprise. The night before the press conference near your house, he got home late, but still made time to talk to you and the baby. “Hey, sweetie,” he said, placing a kiss on your head as you woke up from your sleepy state. “Has the baby been keeping you up?,” he asked. “He/she’s been extra annoying this week. I only got to sleep around an hour ago,” you replied. He laid in bed next to you. “I’m sorry, honey. Just a little bit longer,” he said, placing a hand on your stomach. He moved to where your stomach was and pulled up your shirt. “You have to stop annoying mommy now. Be patient baby Massoud,” he said to your stomach. You laughed at him and pulled at his shirt. “Let’s go to sleep. You need to be well rested for tomorrow,” you told him. “Alright,” he said, moving under the covers.

The next morning, Mena kissed you goodbye as he left for the conference. “I’ll be back later today. I love you,” he said. “I love you too. Good luck,” you told him. As the front door closed behind him, you leaned over and winced in pain. The baby was causing you so much pain that you nearly fell over. You called your mom and asked for her to come over for comfort. You were so ready to have this baby. A few minutes passed before your mom entered the house. She walked through the door to find you sitting on the kitchen floor in a puddle of water. She immediately picked you up and rushed you to her car.

“I have a question for Mena. What was it like filming the scenes with Abu?,” an interviewer asked. Mena felt a vibration in his back pocket,but ignored it. “It was interesting. They had this animatronic they would place on my shoulder for his scenes and honestly it’s amazing how the people in production brought him to life. He looks like a real monkey!,” he exclaimed, making the audience laugh. Mena heard the vibration again, but this time it came from Will’s phone. Mena noticed Will read the notification on his phone and immediately pop up from his seat. “Ah!,” Will exclaimed. He tapped Mena on the back and told him to get up. “What is it?,” Mena asked. “Y/n’s water broke. We have to go now,” Will whispered to him. Mena felt like he was going to pass out. The baby was coming already? He stood there silent for a few seconds. “Is everything alright?,” Naomi whispered to the two. “It’s y/n,” Will replied. Naomi shook Mena’s arm, bringing him back to reality and he stared at the crowd. “I’m sorry, everyone. Family emergency,” he told them. They rushed out of the room with Will practically pulling a dazed Mena through the doors.

“Ok,man. We’re here,” Will said, pulling up to the hospital. Mena and Will practically ran into the hospital. “My wife’s in labor! Uh..y/n Massoud!!,” Mena told the person at the desk. “She’s level 2 in room 107,” the person replied. “Ok. Thank you,” Mena replied. He looked at Will and smiled. “Come on, man. I’m having a kid!,” Mena exclaimed, running towards the elevator. As they reached the second level, Mena heard your screams. He raced to your room. “Honey, I’m here,” he said, coming to your bedside. “You’re the father?,” a nurse asked, stopping him. “Yes!,” he replied. “Here. Put on these scrubs,” the nurse told him. They had told Will to stay outside since he wasn’t a relative. When Mena finished getting dressed, he grasped your hand in his and squeezed it. “It’s going to be ok,” Mena said, calmly. “Mena!!,” you said, in between screams. “Why did you do this to me?! You’re awful. Why?! Why?!!!!,” you screamed. “I know. I’m sorry, but it’ll be over soon,” he said to you. The nurses kept telling you to push and you did. You pushed and pushed so hard that if you had been any stronger you probably would’ve broken Mena’s right hand. “You’re doing great,” Mena reassured you. You couldn’t stand the sound of his voice right now. “The baby’s crowning. Push harder, y/n,” the doctor told you. You screamed even louder and Mena leaned over you to see the baby. He saw a head, a neck, and the shoulders. “The baby’s almost here. Just push!,” Mena told you. You screamed bloody murder and felt like you had no more energy. That was when the doctor had finally told you that the baby was here. “It’s a girl!,” the doctor told you. The small baby was placed on your chest and you smiled in relief. You looked at Mena and he looked at you. “She’s finally here,” you told him. He smiled and leaned down to the baby. “We’ve been waiting for you forever,” he said in a baby voice. You laughed and started caressing the baby’s head. “Will’s here. I’m going to tell him the news,” Mena said. As Mena entered the waiting room, your mom and Will stood up from their chairs. “It’s a girl!,” he exclaimed. Will embraced Mena in a hug. “Congratulations, man!,” Will told him. He shook Mena’s shoulders. “You’re a dad!,” he continued. They all walked back in the room to find you smiling at every movement the baby made. “Look at my godchild!,” Will yelled, making you roll your eyes. “She has your smile, babe,” you told your husband. Mena looked glanced down at the baby. “And your pretty eyes,” he replied. “She’s beautiful, you guys,” Will said, calmly. Later that night, after the nurses examined the baby girl, they gave her back to Mena as you slept. He craddled her in his arms and hummed to her. “You’re daddy’s little girl. Yes, you are,” he said leaning down to nuzzle her nose with his. “I’m so happy you’re here,” he told the sleeping child.

Weeks later, as you three rested at home, the press learned of the baby news. Mena noticed an article in almost every magazine. It was insane.

“ALADDIN’S MENA MASSOUD HAS BABY GIRL WITH SECRET WIFE!!”

“MENA MASSOUD OF ALADDIN HAS HIS OWN JASMINE?!!”

“ALADDIN ACTOR HAS A SURPRISE BABY!! PICTURES INSIDE ARTICLE!!”

#mena massoud #mena massoud x reader #disney #aladdin #aladdin 2019 #aladdin remake #imagine #headcanon #oneshot #anon #ask #will smith #pregnancy oneshot #aladdin cast

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frangipanidownunder · 6 years ago

Text

Threads: fic

This is for my anon who asked for some season 11 hurt/comfort angst a while ago. And also for @reasonandfaithinharmony who wondered what went through Mulder’s head after he found out that Scully was in remission. The fic is long so it’s under a cut and it does cover a lot of ground, timewise.

When Samantha broke her collarbone, Fox had done what his mother asked and grabbed the pale shawl draped over the high-back chair at her dressing table. In the light it seemed to glisten. It was silky soft between his fingers, sliding through his grasp until he felt the tassel strands. He threaded it back and forth through his closed fist, developing a comfortable rhythm as he walked back to the hallway where his sister was howling. Reluctant to part with it, he wondered why his mother felt the need to wear something so exquisitely beautiful just to ride to the hospital. It was only when she wrapped it around his crying sister’s shoulder to hold up her arm that he realised it was to be a sling. Under the red gaze of his father, he felt so dumb, blinked away the sharp stab of tears.

His gut iced with guilt. He’d helped Samantha up on to the rope swing. He’d teased her about not going high enough. Later, his mother gave him the shawl to hold while they went for x-rays and he scrunched it to his face, inhaling the smell of her perfume to cover the cloying taste of hospital antiseptic in his throat.

***

Scully had woken uncharacteristically late. She’d missed the first coffee of the morning. He’d checked on her a few times but she lay curled on her side with the covers hiding her face. When she did join him, she complained of feeling achy and cold.

“Your face is a little flushed,” he said, buttering her toast.

She pushed the plate away and sipped her coffee. “I’m not really hungry.”

“I’ll grab the groceries. You go back to bed.”

Her gentle snuff told him that she might just do that and he dropped a kiss on her head. She coughed quietly into her hand and he plucked a tissue from the box. She smiled up at him with red-rimmed eyes and pressed it to her nose. He thought of the shawl, something he hadn’t remembered in years, and as he drove down the gravelled path he wondered where it had ended up. He imagined it folded into a box along with his mother’s perfume dispensers and the ornate gold brush and mirror set. Items too personal to either sell or to keep on display. Those boxes were probably in the attic, decorated with cobwebs. He thought he should do something about that. Get up there with Scully one weekend and clear it out. Maybe, he mused as he pulled into the parking lot, the attic was like the mind. Too much clutter wasn’t any way to live.

During the night, Scully’s coughing grew worse. She shivered next to him but her skin was on fire. Her breath was bitter as she struggled to breathe, rolling from side to side to get comfortable. Through chattering teeth, she self-diagnosed flu – the sudden onset, the fever, the muscle and joint pain. He wanted to take her to the emergency room but she shook her head before hacking into her pillow.

“Sleep,” she whispered. “Just let me sleep.”

In the morning, her chest rose and fell with each shallow inhalation and the rattling wheeze had him dismissing her weak protests in favour of driving her to the hospital right then. She sat in the passenger seat barking out coughs as the scenery passed in a blur as ghostly-grey as her skin.

The waiting room at the ER was stuffed with people. Vomiting babies and old men clutching their chests were promptly triaged. The drunk and drug-affected were left to yell and abuse. Middle-aged FBI agents sat on the floor.

“Scully, who do I need to arrest to get you seen?”

Her head sank further into the crook of his shoulder so that her chin dug into his collarbone. He pulled her hair away from her face and she coughed so hard that she couldn’t gulp in enough air between rounds. She slumped across his chest, letting out a soft gurgle.

“Nurse! Someone! My wife needs help.” He laid her across his thighs and thumped his fist against the wall behind him. “Now!”

***

He was allowed to visit Samantha after her surgery but there were no chairs to sit on. His mother was sleeping in the only one. His father had pushed him through the curtains and walked away, muttering about how he couldn’t stand hospitals. Just standing there, behind the curtain, made him feel powerless. There was a busyness to the place, a hum of activity outside, but inside the small patch that was his sister’s cubicle there was a muted stillness. It made his own body thrum with a need to move. Yet he was stuck to the floor, unable to work out what he should do. Talking seemed so fruitless.

“Fox, did you bring me anything to eat?” He looked at his sister, pale against the starched pillow, her arm balanced in a fresh white sling. There was a tray across her lap containing the cold remnants of meat and vegetables. “The food here is disgusting. Mom said you’d bring me some Twinkies.”

He shook his head and held out his hands. “Dad didn’t tell me.” Their mom twitched in her sleep, sending her purse falling to the floor. He picked out her wallet and took some coins. “I’ll go find something.” At least he could feel useful.

When he came back with an armful of candy bars, Samantha was asleep and his mother was straightening the green blanket at the foot of the bed. She looked down at the packets in his hands and tutted.

“She’ll be home tomorrow. But there’ll be no more horseplay, do you understand? Your father is very disappointed. We both expect more from you, Fox.”

***

The doctor glanced over Scully’s chart and hooked it back over the end of her bed. Skinner followed him out of the room and left Mulder in the weighty silence of a room where, once again, Scully’s life hung in the balance. Pneumonia.

His nails dug into the sagging skin on his cheeks as he balanced his elbows on his knees. An all too familiar pose. Time passed in unrecognisable beats meted out with each pulse and bleep and wheeze from the equipment keeping her alive. Somewhere in his fatigued brain he figured she was owed a longer life, given all the air that had been pumped in to her lungs previously. He couldn’t muster up the energy to even snort out an ironic laugh. What he wouldn’t give for a roll of her eyes and an impatient, ‘it doesn’t work that way, Mulder.’

She told him once, with a flirty tap to his tie, that she was immortal. His willingness to believe in anything had long since departed. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to grab at that younger man, that over-confident fool who trusted no-one and everyone at the same time. All that he succeeded in doing was grasping hold of unwanted memories.

***

His rage when he saw her, uncovered on that gurney, eyes taped shut, was white-hot. It burnt through his veins so that he couldn’t process rational thought. Later, after the humiliation of being physically removed from the room, that rage pulsed through his blood dosing out a regular reminder of what he had to do. If she died, if Scully fucking died, because of his quest, he would go out all guns blazing, taking anyone and everyone with him.

He remembered that feeling being so powerful that he found it suffocating. It was a weight in his chest, pushing outwards and inwards with enough pressure to make him feel that exploding or imploding were equal possibilities. He could have ended Cancer Man’s life with single shot, but he’d prickled at Mulder’s gossamer conscience with his ‘you can kill me now but you’ll never know the truth.’ He could have turned that gun on himself.

He could have stayed in his apartment and delivered terminal intensity. Instead, he sat at Scully’s bedside and waited in the strange silence of her room. Sometime during the night, a nurse brought him a blanket. A heavy knitted one with a satin edge that he rubbed between his finger and thumb until morning.

The apartment was as wrecked as his soul. He sunk to the floor and wept like he hadn’t since the Christmas of Samantha’s disappearance, when her absence that day was louder than her presence had been.

He’d given up. He’d poured out his soul to Scully as she lay in there. He’d denied it for too long. Melissa at least had the grace to accept the obvious. She was dying. Scully was dying.

But that was too late, wasn’t it? Now, it was the safest thing to do. To admit to someone how you felt when they were never going to respond. Just like telling Samantha he loved her and missed her when she’d gone. Just like his father saying he still loved him as he was walking out the door.

When the phone rang, his heart flipped in his chest then plumbed to the depths of his guts. Even though clinically she might have been considered dead, until that moment, Scully was still that naïve, sceptical, eager young woman who’d crept into his heart and refused to move. Hearing the dreaded words meant she’d be locked there, forever young. In the microseconds it took for him to decide to answer the call, he’d mentally flicked through all the times he wished he’d just taken her in his arms and kissed her instead of debating with her, dismissing her or ditching her; he’d wished a thousand times over that he’d sent her away after that first case; he’d ploughed through the different hair styles, suits, smiles she’d worn. He’d wished he’d never met her.

“I’m here,” he said. But he wasn’t. He was already thinking of who he could take down with him. He was checking out. He was dying.

***

The thing about hospitals is that they hold in life and they let it out. Births, life-saving surgeries, miracle recoveries, code blues, morphine overdoses under the guise of keeping a patient comfortable, priests offering consolation through the last rites. They hold in grief and they let it out. Mulder was suspended in that dichotomy too. Holding in hope and letting it out in fearful fits of rage. There was no change in Scully’s condition. As grey dawn seeped through the grey window blinds, no change seemed good; as midnight crept past with the bleep and rush of the machines breathing for her, no change was untenable.

Sometime during the third night a nurse covered him in a heavy warm blanket. The days were getting shorter, colder outside, he supposed. But time has a way of contracting around you, when your heart is being slowly crushed. He twisted on the seat and the blanket slipped. He brought it up under his chin, tried to find a position that didn’t cramp his back and neck, ran the ribboned edge between his fingers as he watched Scully’s face, looking for nuanced differences in her lips, her eyes, her cheeks. Her arms were untucked and it hit him that she might be cold too. He pulled himself out of the seat, let his blanket fall to the floor and called for the nurse. While he waited, he knelt next to her, holding her hand. The weight of it all, the constant dread, the lack of sleep, the helplessness, pushed his head down, and his hot tears flowed as his lips settled on the back of her hand.

Skinner ordered him home. Drove him there.

“I’ll go back, you sleep. I’ll call you if there’s any change. If you don’t hear from me, I’ll pick you up at four.” He laid a hand on Mulder’s shoulder. “Eat something too.”

Mulder had long since come to recognise this as Skinner being caring. He showed his heart by being practical. He and Scully were quite similar in some ways. Scully would have done the same, the food, the rest, all the things the doctor orders. But he was not the one who’s sick. There was no way he was going to lie in their bed, their comfortable but empty bed, and sleep while his wife is on a hospital gurney.

He climbed to the attic, rubbing the back of his neck as the dust motes danced in the slant of sunlight from the small, square window. On his ascent he was of a mind to tidy, throw away the mess, clean up his life. But sitting among the crates and piles and oddities he was in a mind to preserve. It was like the hospital, he thought. Holding in and letting go.

It took him a while to understand he was looking for his mother’s shawl. The human brain is undoubtedly a complex organ, but the human mind is unfathomable. Scully was suspended in some otherworld, so sick her body had shut down, but he was looking for his long-dead mother’s shawl. If he were to analyse his own psyche he would probably conclude that the item was a shield, a way to wrap something nostalgic and comfortable around his body to block out the fear of losing Scully. His fingernails were black with grit and dust, his muscles bunched in his shoulders sending a throbbing pulse down his spine. He opened crates and shoe boxes and plastic tubs. He found books and files and greetings cards and photos. He chuckled and he wept. But he didn’t find the shawl.

There were boxes high on a shelf. He moved the step ladder, disturbed a mouse that scurried into a shadowy corner. He checked his cell again. Nothing. The waiting was always the worst. Time, such a feature of his life, stretched out to fill dark places. When she had the seizure last year, he didn’t have to wait too long for her to wake, but there had been too many other hours wasted in that suspended, desperate place. He pulled down the first box and it tumbled out of his grip, landing with a dusty crash on the floor. The first item that spilled loose were medical records and X-rays. And just like that, he was back at her bedside, kneeling on that cold hospital floor, sobbing silently around her hand.

***

Her face was beyond pale, red-ringed eyes sunken into her head, cracked, dry lips. She looked like one of the creatures they’d spent years chasing only to have them disappear into the shadows. She could have been a phantom, a ghoul, a spirit. But she wasn’t. She was flesh and bones, stricken with a deadly disease and she was disappearing in front of his eyes. He was supposed to be dead. He was the one who had disappeared into the shadows, had slipped into her room to see her, to talk to her. To talk, once again, when it was too late. His habit of opening his heart when all was lost had struck again. He wept against her hand as though his tears could enter her body like a lifeforce. His teeth scraped her skin and it tasted papery, flaking against his lips. Peeling her life away.

He didn’t know how long he’d been there, pressing her hand to his mouth, sobbing. But he knew his futile tears, hot rage and self-hatred needed to be channelled. Her death would invade his body like the cancer had hers, it would live in his veins and destroy him but it would also give him power to act. To end the blind quest he’d been on.

As it turned out, all that incandescent anger seeped from his pores when he heard the news of her remission. The chip worked. He sat at her bedside as she told him how the doctors were mystified.

“I can’t believe it,” he said.

She wrapped a thin arm around his neck and pulled his head to the crook of her neck. Her bony frame dug into his face but he didn’t care. He felt instantly lighter, muscles unclenching, nerves flittering back to life. The numb edges of his being sharpened like her chi had flowed into his veins. They fused at that moment. She clung to him, clawing at his back as she sobbed. He clutched her body to his wondrous at the joint beating of their hearts. A miracle.

And it didn’t truly sink in for days. He walked around light-headed, repeating the mantra ‘she’s in remission’ over and over. It sounded surreal. His brain knocked against his skull when he repeated the words, causing him a fleeting lapse in consciousness. The very idea of her being healthy and whole felt like sighting a UFO or cryptid; it left you feeling buzzed, body pulsing with energy and yet there was that slight element of doubt. What if it were fake?

For nights, he slept with a tee-shirt of hers that he’d taken home with a bundle of other clothes to wash for her. He hadn’t washed it, instead slipping it under his pillow to inhale the scent of her, a reminder of her return to him.

***

The files and X-rays didn’t fit back into the box the way they had before. He struggled to slot the boxes back onto the shelf. He pushed and slid and rearranged but all he succeeded in doing was unsettling more thick and tangled cobwebs so they covered his hair and made him cough.

He slumped to the floor and stretched his legs before him. He’d recovered nothing of value, nothing that he was looking for. He had simply accumulated a mountain of stuff to throw away. But he knew he wouldn’t. Holding on. That’s what he was impelled to do. He set his head against the wall desperate to sleep but resisting it for fear of slipping back into the miasma of memories that shadowed his mind. He reached his arm sideways, hairs sticking to the brickwork. He tapped against a box that was pushed against the wall. The lid slipped off and he walked his fingers up the cardboard and inside. Photo frames, something cold and metallic, intricately patterned, a trinket box maybe? A soft, cool padding at the very bottom, sleek to touch. He wrapped it around his hand. The shawl. He knew it before he saw it. It slithered out of the box and he pulled it to his lap, letting its heavy weight fall through his hands as his weeping echoed through the attic.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, startled him. Skinner.

Scully was sleeping again by the time he got there, but she’d woken briefly earlier.

“She knew who I was,” Skinner said, patting Mulder on the shoulder as he sank into the chair next to her bed. “She’s going to be okay, Mulder.”

Her hand fitted into his palm perfectly, made to measure. He nodded up at Skinner, watched him leave, listened to the sounds of the room. He watched the rise of her chest, stronger now. The way her mouth flickered at the edges, her eyes fluttered under her lids. She was dreaming. He hoped fervently that it was a happy dream, a safe dream.

The shawl rested on his lap and he looked down at it, silvery strands glittering in the soft light. He thought of his mother, his father, his sister. The way grief was woven through his life, like the threads in the shawl. But every now and again, there were brighter moments, the silvery strands that made life worthwhile.

Scully shifted, her head turning to face him. She opened her eyes, blinked slowly. She sniffed quietly as he moved forward, noses bumping. Her voice was stuck in her dried-out throat so he got her some water, held the paper cup to her lips, lifted her head from the pillow. She sipped and it looked like it hurt.

“I’ll get the nurse, Scully,” he said but she gripped his hand and pulled him back down. The shawl fell to the floor. She saw it, brows crinkling. He shifted the chair closer to her, scooping up the shawl and burying it in the gap between the bar of the bed and her body.

“It was my mother’s,” he said and she closed her eyes. Her arm moved slightly so that he was sure she could feel its softness. She strained to open her eyes again, move her mouth to respond. He laid two fingers over her lips and shushed her. A tear slipped from her eye, her fingers stroked the shawl, letting the fringing slip between them.

“Sleep now, Scully,” he said. “I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

#txf fanfic #my fanfiction #threads #season 11 angst #anon prompt answered #msr

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glamrockmonarch · 6 years ago

Text

The Flu: Ben Hardy Mini Series

Part 2. Not Meant To Be

Mini Series Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 3

Words: 4335

Summary: You are an actress and worked with the boys in BoRhap, after the premiere and press tour you wind up working on another project with one of them; Ben. As your roles are tied together you find yourselves spending more and more time in each other’s company, becoming closer than ever and developing feelings. Ben cannot bring himself to ruin what you have with another one of your friends by acting on these new found love until you get sick out of the blue right in the middle of the production and this sparks something between the two.

A/N: I tried my best but I think this one is a little rushed due to the number of events I wanted to get in here (we don’t even get to the good Mozzarella Sticks bits yet!) without making it too long... anyway, I would love your feedback on this and maybe you could help me decide if a fourth chapter would be a good idea. Let me know, and ENJOY!

You stared at Ben with tearful eyes, he looked down and licked his lips before his blue eyes full of sorrow found yours.

“I’m afraid not.” He reached up to put his right hand on your cheek.

You took a step back, a tear escaping the corner of your eye.

“We are to move to New Zealand. Your father has given his blessing and you are my wife now.”

Ben stepped closer to you and cupped your face, your chest heavied trapped in a tight corset. You felt a slow stream of tears slide down your cheek, met by his thumb. You fail to turn away to his touch although it is written on the script.

“Goddamnit!” You think to yourself. “Maybe if I tense up my neck?”

“I -“ you stuttered, “I don’t want to go.” You admitted.

Ben blinked and his eyes fell on your bright pink lips.

“CUT!” The director yelled from behind the camera, “Y/N, he is the man making you leave the love of your life, leave your home and family, you are about to leave the country forever! Is this the energy you want to give me?”

Ben stepped back and the two of you turned to look at the director.

“I guess not....but she was raised to be quiet and hold back!” You reasoned, trying to extend your back in your costume.

“Exactly!” The director grabbed you by the shoulders and shook you, “forget all that, convince him to stay! Go wild!”

Turning to look at Ben you saw him squinting at the director.

“And you,” Ben straightened up, “get out of your head, this is a tense moment. Make it count! Jack’s a villain in this moment!”

You struggled to look annoyed and uncomfortable around Ben, so the director had to intervene. You ended up ditching some parts of the script in favour of more dramatic lines.

Henry, the man directing, told Ben to go with something a lot harsher.

“Bring Percy into it.”

It was a simple instruction, but it made the biggest difference. Once the cameras were rolling again Ben was almost scary.

“I -“ you stuttered again, “I don’t want to go.” You admitted in a small voice.

Ben’s hands dropped from your face and his jaw became tense.

“Because of Percy. Right?” He stepped closer to you and you blinked in confusion.

Of course, your character was in love with a farm boy who worked for her family but she had to cut all ties to him in order to marry Mister Everleigh - Ben’s role.

“I do not know-“ you started, taking a step back.

“Oh, please Miss Jones! I am not a fool!” Ben licked his lips. “You clearly love him. Do tell me, were you expecting to have an affair with him?”

“Excuse me?” Your eyes widened. “I am offended! Mister Jones, I assure you-“

Ben cut you off again.

“I will manage my family’s business in New Zealand. And you will come with me as my wife.” He said harshly. “This... Percy boy will not be around. So forget about him. Forget about your dirty little farm and your country boy. You are Gwyn Everleigh - my wife, and you will come with your husband to New Zealand.”

You stared at Ben with tearful eyes, imagining your character’s heart to be breaking at these words coming out of his mouth. Gwyn Jones would feel her soul crushed under this burden, becoming an Everleigh and getting on that ship...traveling to another country without her family to bear some evil man’s children. Gwyn would have felt like screaming, but she would hold back because she was taught to do so.

“I understand Mister Everleigh.” You said with your voice cracking, looking down and excusing yourself before leaving through the hall with cameras following your every move.

The director cut and you let out a loud scream outside of the set. You were still in character when Ben ran outside to see what was happening with you.

Not having heard the director say cut, once Ben approached you, you lashed out.

“Don’t! Don’t touch me...” You slapped his hands. “I didn’t ask for this!”

Ben frowned, unable to understand you hadn’t heard you were not rolling anymore.

The blonde tried to touch your arm and as he did you slapped him across the face, half the crew gasping at it.

“I said don’t touch me!” I cried out.

“Y/n! Y/n!” Henry intervened while Ben held his cheek in his hand.

He blonde would hate to admit you were quite strong for your size.

“Oh, my!” You covered your mouth with your hands. “Ben, I’m so sorry!” You apologised and went to check on him.

“I like that, can we shoot that?” Henry turned to one of the producers.

You sighed and looked away from Ben.

“Shit, I’m sorry! I didn’t hear him, I just...” you admitted, “I hate it!”

Ben was confused and looked around for help, not knowing what to say. You pressed your palm against his cheek and gave him an apologetic smile.

“It got better for Gwyn,” he tried to console you, “Jack is a good man, he just...he was jealous...” Ben explained.

The director watched you talk about the scene you had just improvised and heard you go on about your character.

“She was scared!” You cried out, dropping your hand from his face, “Gwyn doesn’t even know Jack! She thought she would at least have her sisters to turn to! Now Jack is jealous? Jealous?! Of what!”

You turn to Henry and shook your head.

“And then he pretty much rapes her the second they arrive in New Zealand!“

“Hey, hey!” There was little to defend there but Ben still felt as attached to his role as you did. “He watched her kiss Percy!” Ben explained. “He didn’t mean to hurt Gwyn!”

“Well, he did!”

Before things could go any further, as usual, Henry had you go back to your marks to keep working.

“You two are gonna be fun to work with on the press tour!” Henry pat both of your backs.

It was a long week of shooting, the last one. The last scene you shot was one with Trine Dyrholm, who played your mother. It was a somewhat easy short scene, but you had to repeat it a few times before the director got all the shots he wanted.

“It’s a wrap ladies!” You were happy to hear Henry congratulate you and Trine.

You celebrated later when the whole production wrapped. Craig and Ben filmed their last scenes together and the crew cheered and clapped.

“It’s a wrap!” Everyone repeated.

You were still in costume when the boys made their way behind the monitor to hug you. Craig was the first to wrap his arms around you, having met you during readings before shooting started, he was glad to be done and promised to stay in touch with you after this.

“You better call me, Craig!” You warmed him with your eyes widening.

He laughed and turned to see Ben joking with Beth.

Everyone in the crew and cast seemed to know you and Ben had something going on between you, whether you knew it or not was something they couldn’t decipher.

“Y/N!” Ben wrapped his arms around you and lifted you up, making you hold on to his shoulders for dear life. “It’s a wrap!”

“It’s a wrap!” You grinned at each other in excitement.

Everyone was happy and sad, it was a big mixture of feelings around the set. The crew was glad it was over because they were proud of the work that they had put into the film, as the cast was too. But there was a melancholic vibe around that nobody could deny; this was the realisation that you would never be together like you had been for the past few months ever again. If there was a second part to this film, which was something possible, the crew would probably not be the same, only the main characters would get called back to take their roles and that if the characters were not written off or grown older - which could mean re-casting. It was time to face it for everyone; the production was over.

That night you had the wrap party, where you got to hang out with everyone and have a bit of a farewell. Henry, your amazing director made sure to thank his employees and you had a great time, besides, the next morning there was something to look forward to... shaving Ben’s sideburns.

Although you partied till well into the am, you woke up early and made sure to text your friends.

Gwilym was happy to hear you were free from work now, at least you would be for a couple of weeks now until you had a date for your meeting with some executives for your next big project.

“Hi, how are you?” Gwil called.

You and Gwil had been very close during the production of borhap since you played the part of his wife.

“Great!” You replied honestly through the phone and asked how he was doing in return.

Gwil had a way of speaking that seemed to soothe people, for you it was like standing in front of the calm waters of a river; hearing him talk about his projects and plans for the next few days made you feel some sense of normality, even though you felt out of place standing in your kitchen at 10 in the morning while you had been running around set at this same time for the past few months.

“I heard you are going to this fashion show next week.” Gwil inquired, he was aware thanks to Joe that it was an important trip and since Joe was his friend he had been asked to get some information from her.

Joe was nervous about asking you out, he wanted to for a long time now, ever since you were in New York earlier in the year he had been sure about his feelings toward you. Joe missed you, he wanted to talk to you, listen to your voice, see you smile, hold you, kiss you… and he knew that if he wanted to take this relationship to next level he had to get a move on. So he asked his friends to lend him a hand. Ben was supposed to get you to go where you had to go, Rami and Lucy were told to keep people away while Joe talked to you, and Gwil was given the golden task of asking if you were even interested in Joe like that.

“Yeah, Ben and I are flying there together.” You announced, your face lighting up without you noticing. “It’s a shame you aren’t coming, we will miss you!” You said.

“Aw, I’m sorry, I’ll be in America for once!” Gwil explained. “I guess it will be nice to see Rami and Lucy...and Joe…” He tried to be smooth.

You giggled at the mention of Joe; he had been adorably annoying since he heard you had confirmed your assistance to the fashion show in Paris.

“Yeah, I think Joe will tackle me the second he sees me…” You predicted, to which Gwil chuckled. “I wouldn’t blame him, he lives across the pond! Don’t we all miss his chaotic energy around?”

Gwil agreed. “Sounds like that’s gonna be a hard goodbye.” He commented.

“I mean…” You heard a car outside, “Joe’s lovely to have around, but so are the rest of you. I think I might just hide in someone’s luggage and see where that gets me…” You rambled absentmindedly with your eyes scanning the windows to look outside and see who it is.

There is a knock on your door and you apologise to your friend.

“Why don’t you text me later, we should go out for coffee or something, could tell Lucy and Ben too.” You proposed as you left the open kitchen area to go to the door.

“I’d love that.” Gwil sounded pleased.

“I’ve got to go, Gwil...but seriously, congratulations on Top End Wedding.” You reached out to the doorknob. “I’ll see you soon! Bye!”

“Thanks, bye!”

Hanging up the phone you turned the knob and waited to see who it could be on the other side of the door. Not too surprisingly, you found Ben there and let him in without saying anything. He pressed a kiss to your cheek and you gave him one back, stepping aside so he came in and closed the door behind himself.

“Time to get rid of this thing!” Ben announced once you turned to him.

He rubbed his jaw and touched his sideburns.

“Guess you couldn’t wait then.” You said.

Ben was unable to refute you, he was eager to get rid of the hair, it was starting to become too much, so he wanted the sideburns gone and a haircut to go with his polished look. You extended your hand and Ben handed you a small bag with the necessary utensils to shave. Together, you walked down the hall and into your small bathroom.

“So when are you leaving?” Ben asked from his improvised seat on the edge of the bathtub.

You prepared everything on the counter next to the sink and tried to count the days.

“I think I’m going back home next month.” You announced.

The truth was, you were not used to living in London. You just went there regularly, but you still had your home in Cardiff.

“I’ll miss you, you know?” Ben said, biting his tongue after, mentally cursing at himself for admitting this.

“I’ll miss you too, Ben.” You turned to him in your pajamas and offered him a side smile.

You noticed Ben wore a pair of trainers and sweatpants. He nodded his head and his expression mirrored yours.

Clapping your hands and sighing, you got to business and grabbed the razor to shave the sides of his head. You were careful and kept focused on not cutting him, your eyes on his face and one of your hands cupping his cheek while you run the razor down his face. Ben did not dare speak, so he wouldn’t distract you or make you move the blades wrong. It was not possible to avoid, Ben put his hands on your hips while you stood between his legs to shave the rest of his face. Once you were done you pressed the lotion on his skin and ran your fingers along his chin.

“Served, mister.” You smiled down at him and caught him staring.

Ben’s hand did not leave your hips and you were made aware of the contact as you dropped your hands on his shoulders. You remained like this for a few minutes before you gathered the courage to move.

It had been enough, too long since you deciphered the meaning of the fluttering in your stomach when you were together. You ran a hand through Ben’s hair and leant down to press your lips against his. Ben did not move, too scared, too involved to pull away.

He let you kiss him and even worse, he kissed you back. Moving his lips against yours and breathing in the sweet scent of coconut coming from your hair. You cupped his face and Ben’s arms wrapped around you to pull you closer. He would later regret it, but now he could not deny: your lips felt like heaven and he was craving for more. You parted your lips and let his tongue come in contact with yours, it was much more than it had been when you were on set. This was not a pretend kiss, this was real and it felt like it too. You moved your legs so you could straddle Ben and once you did, Ben’s arms tightened around your middle, his hands finding the small of your back and your neck.

As you pulled away for air you pressed your nose against Ben’s cheek and suddenly it all came crashing down on him.

Ben was not supposed to kiss you, he was meant to stay away from you. Joe had told him how he felt about you, this was a horrible thing to do to a friend… so ben did what he had to make it right to his friend because he owed him at least this. He pushed you away and rushed to pick up his stuff.

“What-what’s wrong?” You jumped back as Ben put everything back into his little bag.

“This.” He said, shaking his head. “Y/N, I...I’m sorry.” He blinked because he had to say things he did not feel, but he needed to make sure you would forget about this. Ben could not stab Joe in the back like this. “This is wrong… I’m sorry if I led you on…”

“Lead me on?” You frowned, “Ben…”

“You are my best friend,” Ben reassured you, although he was trying to convince himself. “You are, and I want it to be that way.”

You were shocked, embarrassed...terrified! What had you just done?! It sounded like Ben meant this, you were fooled. He looked serious, you were unable to tell if he was mad, but he did not look like someone who was making this up.

With a hand on your mouth, you nodded and then you looked away. How could you make it right with a friend who you had just kissed under the impression that your feelings would be reciprocated? You felt all colour leave your face and a sudden need to run and hide settle in your stomach making your hands shake.

“I’m so sorry, Ben!” You rushed to explain, “I...I…” You covered your mouth again. “It won’t happen again!” You frowned.

Your voice was small and shaky. Ben looked at you over his shoulder and felt sick to his stomach. Your concern was visible. He looked away again, picked up his stuff and sighed.

“Please don’t go?” You whispered.

It was too late, you had ruined everything. Ben gave you one last glance and mumbled something about seeing you later before he stormed out of the house. You were heartbroken and felt tears stream down your face the second you heard the front door close.

Ben decided he would act as if nothing had happened when he met you a week later at the airport. You did not speak about what happened, in fact, you did not even speak for days after the bathroom incident. Ben was feeling guilty about it and you were sure that if you tried to talk about it with him you would only ruin your friendship - which you felt was hanging by a string.

Without making a big deal out of it, Ben assured Joe that he would be fine asking you out and when the time came to meet up at the airport, you were past the initial shock and made no effort to bring up the topic of your status.

It was clear to the two of you that friendship was all there would be between you, even if it broke your hearts, but you dealt with it as you sat together on the plane. The flight was short and you spent the whole time talking.

“This haircut really suits you,” you said to him and then touched your own hair, “I think my manager is sending me to the hairdresser soon, honestly I wouldn’t mind.”

Ben chuckled.

“You look beautiful as it is, no need for any changes.” He assured you.

Knowing better than to take his comment as a compliment bigger than it was supposed to be, you made a mental note not to blush.

“Thanks,” you changed the topic, “I am going to New York next week.”

Ben frowned, intertwining his hands on his lap as he heard you. He waited for you to elaborate and when you did he felt his heart sink. Of course, once Joe heard of this he would be thrilled. And he himself was happy for you, although his stomach turned to the thought of you being so far away for what would probably be a long time.

“I am being offered a roll by Netflix. I’m meeting with the producers and maybe signing before coming back.” You smiled. “It’s a series, but I think…” You nodded, sucking air through your teeth, “I think it could be big. I like the script very much.”

Ben blinked and forced himself to smile, reaching out and squeezing your hand.

“That’s great! You’ll do amazingly, Y/N! You are very talented, I bet you’ll snatch some awards soon.”

You blushed at that and looked away, raising your brows and squeezing his hand back before leaning your head on his shoulder. You sighed and closed your eyes.

“I know you’ll make it big soon.” You mumbled, “so I hope we can both have what we want.”

Arriving in Paris things became hectic. You were separated from Ben to go to your hotels, an assistant helped you with your things and after a quick lunch at a local café, you were whisked away again into your hotel to get ready for the show. A “glam squad” ready for you.

You had your hair done and your eyebrows waxed, your toes pedicured and your dress ironed to perfection. With your hair and makeup all done you were helped into a dress by the same designer you were seeing that evening.

“Alright, alright, we need to go!” Your assistant said once the car stopped outside the venue.

Looking around you could not see any of your friends, so you walked through the hall on your own. Some cameras shot pictures of you and you offered friendly smiles at them, not knowing what was coming your way…

“Would you take the picture?” A voice you knew too well said behind you as the weight of an arm was placed around your shoulders.

Your brows shot up with your eyes widening. Turning your head you saw the dark hair and the long nose. The friendly smile made you feel better about everything, your confidence boosted and your still sore heart felt slightly lighter and warmer.

“Joe!” You giggled and wrapped your arms around him, letting him hold you too while the camera flashes went wild. “Oh, I missed you!”

Joe chuckled and kissed your temple before pulling away, he grabbed your hands and looked down at you, pointing at your outfit.

“You look beautiful…” He brought a hand to his chest and his brown eyes looked into yours. “Come on, we should be goin’ in there!”

You nodded and turned to wave at the cameras. Joe’s hand found yours and you smiled back at him while you walked into the showroom together. Your seats were right next to each other so while people poured in you two had a chance to catch up, ignoring everyone around you. As you laughed with joe you forgot to catch up with Lucy and Rami, although they knew of Joe’s plans and did little to still your attention.

The show passed you by in a flash. The show was great, while Joe made smart little comments on your ear and made you bite your tongue to keep from laughing out loud you set your eye on some of the pieces, ready to ask if you could wear them later for events, maybe during promotions for projects or appearances.

“Y/N, how long will you be in Paris?” Lucy wondered after the lights went down once the show was over.

Being on the front row, the smartest move from you was to wait till the people left the room before you even attempted exiting.

“I’m leaving on Monday morning, you?”

Lucy giggled and intertwined her arm with Rami’s as he talked to Ben, who had not said a word to you all night except for a weak “hello” from earlier.

“Me too… we should go somewhere! Rami is trying to find his mum a gift, thought we could help him.”

“Are you sure?” You frowned and mimicked her but with Joe instead of Rami. “Won’t I be third wheeling?”

Joe put his chin on your naked shoulder and pouted. “‘course not! I could go to…” he said smoothly, “make it a double date instead!”

You laughed at that and watched Lucy bite her lip.

You sensed the air change and tilted your head to the side to put your eyes on a curious looking Joe.

“Mozzarella Sticks,” you used his nickname, “are you for real?”

Joe had turned to Lucy when Ben explained to him that he was going to be late to the show, he was supposed to help him as you out, but he backed out last minute, so yes, he turned to Lucy for help. And here you were, caught off guard and surprised.

Still, Joe felt confident looking at the way your eyes lit up.

“I am.” He straightened up and put his hand on your thigh with the palm looking up.

His eyes fell to his hand and yours followed. With your heart shrinking, you remembered how embarrassed you had been after Ben rejected you. How could you reject Joe?

With a small smile, you told yourself that there was nothing to lose. Joe was your friend, the one who made you laugh without fail. He had made sure to ask how you were doing when you got sick and he even sent you a big bear when he had the chance, although by the time it had arrived you were back working.

“Well...” You put your hand on his and watched your fingers intertwine. “I’d like that.”

An excited looking Joe leant forward to press a loud kiss to your cheek while Lucy clapped in the background, Rami mumbling a “finally!” and a quiet Ben nodding at his friends with a forced smile.

taglist: @shanetoo @artemisiaarm @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @wint-er-voices @onceuponathreetwoone @imamazzellhoe @mrsmazzello @kyleetheeditor @godessforyou @gwilymswife

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