#but I had hoped for him to be the link to bring Milly in next season

[baked-hylian]

damnit I knew he was gonna die the moment he complained about worker's comp but I do wonder if this can still lead to bringing in Milly in s2 as she looks for her estranged father after being told by his employer that he's on the field with a new agent

[cetaitlaverite]

Why All This Music?

Masters of the Air - Rosie Rosenthal x OC

the link to the masterlist is here picking up right where we left off. hope you love <3

09. Up for A Vote

Freddie drew in a deep breath, thinking hard about where to start. She hadn’t spoken about Daniel like this since she’d first met Millie and Jem. Hadn’t had to, and especially hadn’t wanted to.

“I met Daniel when I was fourteen,” she began, fixing her eyes on the control panel in front of her. “I was born in Oxford, see, but my family moved to Vienna when I was two because my father got a job at the university. But, eventually, he got another job at Oxford University again, so we moved right back, to the same house we’d lived in before. But there was a new family living next door by now. It had been twelve years since we’d left.”

She smiled ruefully, continuing, “I met Daniel when his mother made him knock on the door with flowers for my mother. I remember they were tulips, a pale shade of yellow. They were beautiful. So was he, by the way.”

Here, Rosie laughed quietly to himself but didn’t make to interrupt.

“Anyway, we fell in love very quickly, even though we were fourteen and fifteen at the time. He was my boyfriend within a month and we stayed that way, never once ever thought about looking elsewhere. When the war broke out for us back in ‘39, when I was nineteen and he was twenty, he enlisted immediately. He joined the RAF because his father had been a pilot. They trained him as a fighter pilot and he got assigned to flying Hurricanes - he was good at it, too. Survived the Battle of Britain, when they were sending fighters up constantly. He would be dogfighting three times a day, sometimes, for hours at a time. He’d get two hours of sleep most nights. The Luftwaffe threw everything at them. But Daniel, he - he was just so good at what he did. Always did it smiling, too. Always found it hard to complain. He told me that he could never bring himself to mind when he’d get called out once again, even if it was the middle of the night and he’d only just fallen asleep, because he knew with every German fighter he took down he was making the world safer for me. Said he didn’t want us to have to raise children in a Britain where everyone was speaking German.”

Freddie laughed quietly, swiping away the tears which had gathered under her eyes. “He hated that I can speak German, by the way. He used to hate it when I spoke it to him. He couldn’t understand me, of course, so I’d call him all manner of sweet names and tell him I loved him in all these poetic ways and he’d demand that I stop so insistently it’s like he thought I was cursing him.

“Anyway,” she went on with a shake of her head, “I followed him to war, obviously. Well, as much as I could. I asked him how I could get myself closest to him and he told me mine would be the last voice he heard before a mission and the first voice after if I became a wireless operator, so that’s what I did. That’s why I lied and said I couldn’t speak German when I enlisted - so that I’d get to talk to him, look after him in my own small way. He put in a good word for me with one of the RAF higher-ups and got me assigned to the same base as him.”

Her smile faded as she realised she would have to speak the part of the story she hated, the part which brought it to its end. She tipped her head back to rest against the seat and shut her eyes. “He went down on a Monday in March 1941. The 10th. Shot down by a Messerschmitt. His plane went down in flames and crashed not far from the airfield. He’d been so close to home. 

“I was working at the time, guiding some of the others through the landing. I remember thinking they sounded strange over the radio but I figured it must just have been a particularly bad mission. I always thought I would know immediately if Daniel had gone down, would just feel it or something, I don’t know, but I hadn’t. And then after interrogation and everything his squadron leader came to find me, took me to a private office, and told me what had happened.”

Freddie was breathing heavily, trying to speak around her tears. Two and a half years later and it still ached as if it had happened yesterday.

“I didn’t believe him at first, of course, but the other fighters in the squadron had all seen it. They sat with me for hours, assuring me over and over again that they weren’t mistaken, that he was gone, and that he wasn’t coming back, because I kept insisting that he might have survived and they needed to look for him.

“But,” she continued, “he hadn’t. So they gave me his footlocker and the responsibility of seeing to it that his belongings went where they were supposed to go. I kept a few things, of course, gave a few things to his closest friends, then sent the rest to his parents. I visit them every time I go home and they always welcome me like a daughter but I find it -” She had to pause to breathe heavily, choking on her own words. “I find it so hard to look at them now. His mum, she - she has his smile.”

Freddie had her eyes squeezed shut, trying to keep in the tears even as they fought to free themselves from behind her eyelids. In spite of her best efforts they came stumbling down her cheeks anyway, the taste salty in her mouth, the wetness cold on her skin. Her eyes were starting to itch because of them, the back of her throat starting to taste strange.

“Oh, Fred,” Rosie said quietly, watching her fighting to get herself under control. Gone was the playful, vibrant girl from merely minutes earlier who’d pretended to shoot down the Luftwaffe’s finest. As much as he missed that version of her, longed to make her smile again, he couldn’t help wanting to scoop up this version of her and cradle her to his chest, whisper about all the good things in the world until she remembered she was the best of them.

Rosie’s soft words, his sympathy, made her sob. She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes, willing the tears away, and started apologising for how she’d thoroughly collapsed in on herself when her descriptions of Daniel had been intended to be happy. 

But Rosie only hushed her softly. He reached for her, curled one arm beneath her knees and the other around her waist and lifted her into his lap.

Freddie curled into him immediately, instinctively. She couldn’t find it within herself to be ashamed of how she was seeking comfort in another man while crying over her lost love. She tucked her head beneath his chin, held on tight to his shirt, buried her face into his neck and tried to drink in the smell of him, the warmth of him, the feeling of him - secure, reliable, safe. Alive.

“You can’t ever go down, Rosie,” she started saying, her voice wet and thick with tears. “You always have to come back. Always. Do you hear me?”

“Always,” Rosie assured her, tightening his arms around her, bringing her closer into his chest. “I’m not gonna leave you behind, Fred. I promise.”

“I take promises very seriously, Rosie,” she told him, sniffling. 

He smiled in spite of himself. “Me too.”

“You can’t break it,” she insisted. “You have to keep coming back. Every time. You have to.”

“I will,” he assured her, soft and sincere. “I’ll keep on comin’ back, sweetheart. You’ll get sick of hearing my voice on your radio.”

Finally, mercifully, she giggled. It was wet and weepy but it was enough. “I won’t,” she disagreed. “I like hearing your serious pilot’s voice over the radio.”

Rosie grinned, tilted his head down to press a kiss to the top of her head. “You making fun of me, Fred?”

He could feel her smiling against his neck. “Absolutely.” Her tears were slowing now, as was her breath. He could feel her breathing deeper and yet her tight grip on him never faltered.

They lapsed into silence as she calmed down. He listened avidly to her breathing. “You want me to take you back to your bunk?” he asked after a while.

Freddie inhaled deeply. “I just want to sit here for a little while longer,” she confessed, shifting just slightly closer.

She worried, momentarily, that Rosie would think her clingy, demanding he let her stay in his lap when he’d only given it to her out of kindness. But all he did was keep on holding her, resting his cheek on her head. Slowly, he began running one gentle hand up and down her back, over and over again in a steady rhythm, until, eventually, she drifted off to sleep.

Freddie woke up in her bunk in the pitch darkness with a sick feeling brewing in her stomach. The whiskey, she knew. All around her were the sounds of breathing, the hut now full of wireless operators shifting and sighing softly in their sleep.

Meatball shifted briefly at the foot of Freddie’s bed, smacked his lips, and then settled. Freddie laid still.

“Mils?” she whispered into the dark. She’d woken facing Millie’s bed and hazarded a guess that she wouldn’t be able to sleep.

“Yeah?” Millie whispered back after a beat.

“How are you feeling?”

Millie shifted in bed, presumably rolling onto her side to face Freddie, and hummed. “Drunk,” she said. “Jem stole another bottle anyway.”

“Did she get away with it?”

“Of course she did,” Millie replied. “They had fewer people working the bar because hardly anyone was in there. She got behind the bar under the guise of getting me a glass of water to sober me up and slipped straight out. No one saw the bottle tucked under her arm, I’m sure, but even if they did, no one asked.”

“What did you do while I was gone?”

“Talk,” Millie said. She yawned. “Had a pillow fight. Played with Meatball for a bit and then took him out to go to the toilet. Then came back in to go to bed.”

“Sounds like fun.”

Millie scoffed softly. “Not as much fun as you were having, I’m sure.”

Freddie groaned. “What did he tell you?” She’d hoped Rosie would have dropped her off with few words to share about their time together.

“Oh, you know,” Millie said airily. “Just that you’re the best dogfighter he’s ever seen.”

Freddie groaned once more. She lifted her head off of her pillow just to slam it down over her ears, lest she be reminded of her idiotic drunken actions.

Millie was laughing when she removed the pillow. “Don’t worry,” she said around her quiet giggles, “he thought it was cute.”

“I’m so embarrassed,” Freddie despaired into the darkness.

Millie kept on laughing. “He’s smitten with you, Fred,” she assured her. “I can tell. I don’t think there’s anything you could do now that would change that. If anything, your little performance tonight has just made him like you more.”

“I’m still embarrassed,” Freddie told her.

Freddie couldn’t see it but Millie was grinning. “I’m sure you are. But I wouldn’t worry too much. He set you down on your bed and tucked you in like you were the most precious thing in the world to him. He was so gentle with you, so clearly enchanted. He had stars in his eyes, to tell you the truth.”

Freddie smiled to herself, turned her face into her pillow as though to conceal her blush even though Millie couldn’t see it in the darkness. She thought back on her time with Rosie, on the emotional rollercoaster that it had been, and sighed before venturing, “I told him about Daniel.”

“You did?” Millie sounded surprised.

“Yeah,” Freddie confirmed. “I’d only intended to talk about what he was like, really, but I ended up telling Rosie the whole story. Started crying and everything. Inconsolable, I was.”

Against her will, Millie laughed.

“But I think I feel better now,” Freddie continued. “I’ve not been fair to him, really, being so hot and cold. At least now he knows why.”

“You probably needed a good cry, I reckon,” Millie observed. “Especially into Rosie’s arms,” she added as an afterthought. Freddie could just imagine her smirking.

Freddie laughed softly to herself. “I won’t disagree.”

They lapsed into silence, both thinking hard on different things. Freddie suspected Millie might have finally fallen asleep before she spoke up softly once more, less certain and less jovial than she’d been before. “He’s looking after you, isn’t he?” she asked. “Rosie?”

Freddie smiled quietly. “He is,” she assured her. 

“Good,” Millie decided.

Freddie wasn’t sure at which point they both fell asleep. It seemed like one minute they’d been talking and the next they were waking up, groggy and nauseous and groaning about banging headaches.

For all of their complaining, however, it was clear that no one felt worse than Jem. Her head was down the toilet before they’d even woken up and there it stayed for the better part of the morning until she felt brave enough to follow them to breakfast. Mercifully, she’d been too drunk last night to even consider changing out of her dishevelled uniform, so she traipsed behind the group as she was.

The table of wireless operators had clearly seen better days. Freddie was shivering even while she sat wrapped in her blanket, Millie had her hands over her eyes and was complaining to anyone who would listen that it was too bright inside the mess hall, and Jem’s head was on the table. She would have face planted into her porridge had Paddy not swiped the bowl away at the last second.

“How much did you lot drink last night, anyway?” Amy asked, amused, around a sip of coffee. She and the other girls who had spent their night in the officers’ club weren’t looking too sprightly either, but they didn’t look quite as half-dead as Freddie, Millie, and Jem. They’d drunk a lot but not two entire bottles of whiskey’s worth, as in Freddie’s case, or three in Millie and Jem’s.

“Too much,” Freddie mumbled, clutching her blanket tighter. Her teeth were chattering and she couldn’t even begin to stomach the thought of food right now. Even the sight of it was making her feel queasy. 

“Not enough,” Millie disagreed, groaning and pressing her forehead to Freddie’s blanket-clad shoulder.

She’d wanted to drink away the reality of Brady being gone, Freddie knew, had wanted to drink so much that when she woke up she could believe he was back. But she couldn’t and he wasn’t. MIA or POW, Freddie wasn’t sure, she just prayed he wasn’t dead.

“Look alive, Fred,” Paddy said suddenly, though she didn’t look much better herself. “Rosie’s Riveters are coming over.”

Freddie lifted her blanket and covered her face, then rested her forehead on the table the same as Jem had. She’d embarrassed herself enough in front of Rosie last night, he didn’t need to see her pale and sickly as she fought the demons of the morning after as well.

“Ladies,” Pappy greeted as they neared. Rosie and his crew took seats at the empty table beside them, echoing their own greetings as they did.

“You okay, Fred?” Rosie asked, an amused smile in his voice. She could tell he had taken up the seat behind her from the closeness of his voice, wondered if he’d had to shoo anyone away for it or if they’d all just known to let their fearless leader take it.

“No,” she replied, her voice muffled from where she was speaking into both the blanket and the table. 

“You should eat something,” he told her, obviously noticing the untouched breakfast she’d pushed away from herself the second she’d sat down. “It’ll make you feel better.”

“Nothing will make me feel better,” she objected.

Rosie laughed and leaned forward until he could rest his hand on her back, heedless of the eyes of the rest of her table - except Jem, of course - on him. “Come on,” he encouraged her, dragging the bowl back towards her. “Just a little.”

“No.”

“For me?”

“No.”

“Ouch.” He knew his grin was so wide he was giving himself away to all of her friends - not to mention his crew, who were sure to tease him relentlessly about this later - but couldn’t seem to hide it. 

“Fred’s got a weak stomach,” Millie explained, swaying slightly as she tried to sit up straight and face Rosie. “She throws up when she’s anxious, when she’s overwhelmed, sometimes when she’s sad, and of course when she’s hungover. So you’d be better off not loading her up with ammunition, Rosie, if you want to know the truth.”

Freddie was sure she’d never been this embarrassed in her whole life. The problem was she couldn’t even deny it because it was completely true. She’d been the same ever since she was little, had apparently inherited it from her mother.

“Mils,” Freddie complained all the same. “That’s so embarrassing.”

“It’s the god’s honest truth, Fred, and you know it,” Millie countered. Freddie could hear the other girls giggling.

“Tell me you’re not thinking of liquidating your assets right now, Freddie, please,” Pappy all but begged. 

“Go away,” Freddie grumbled.

“Our old squadron officer used to call her ‘Prime Minister’,” Jem said, audibly grinning even though her face was still pressed to the tablecloth. “Because she’s always bringing it up for a vote.”

“Fighting words from someone who spent the morning with her head down the toilet,” Freddie retorted, finally sitting up. She let the blanket slip off of her head and pool around her shoulders, rubbing at her eyes and covering her mouth as she yawned.

“Leroy!” barked Squadron Officer Jones as she came stomping into the mess hall.

“Fuck’s sake,” Millie muttered, turning back to their table.

Freddie shrank into her blanket, pretending she hadn’t heard Jones’ call of her last name.

Jones wasn’t fooled. “Section Officer Leroy!” she snapped, marching up to their table.

Freddie sighed but didn’t look at her. “Yes, ma’am?”

“Congratulations,” Jones said dryly, clearly insincerely, “you’ve been promoted. To Flight Officer. Your reassignment training starts today at 1400. Your new CO will pick you up outside your hut. Don’t keep him waiting.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Freddie replied. Her heart had dropped.

“Get excited,” Jones said coldly. “You and I never have to work together again.”

“Lucky bitch,” Millie muttered.

Behind them, Pappy snorted.

Jones slapped Freddie’s new insignia down on the table, turned on her heel, and left.

Freddie watched her go, waited until she had left the mess hall, and then she mumbled, “Fuck.”

[perfectlywrongformend3s]

Starstruck- Louis Partridge x Reader

Hey! I had a request. that's actually an idea that you can use if you like it :) ok so it can be a louispxreader and the reader is a singer. they meet in a Ceremony and they become friends and maybe after a while they fall for each other and confess? you can change it however you want it. thanks <3

Requested: Yes

Word Count: 2943

Warning: Just lots of fluff

Taglist: @girlincrimson

A/n: Sorry for not getting to you sooner. I am going to try to get out imagines and request as best I can this week. I am booked with work all week this week. Also requests are open.

I changed a little bit of it, but most of it is still the same as you requested.

P.s The songs that I will be using are not mine, they belong with the talented writers and their respectful owners.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your POV

I was in my dressing room waiting to be called to go on stage when I got a notification from instagram. I saw that the actor Louis Partridge followed me. I decided to do some stalking and found some really interesting photos and pictures of him. While I was looking at this one photo of him getting his makeup done I accidentally liked the photo. I then immediately started panicking, because I didn't mean to like it. Before I could do anything about it, I was called to go on stage.

I grabbed my guitar and slowly made my way up to the front of the stage. I could feel the excited energy rising off the fans that came to the show tonight. I felt a smirk form on my face when the lights came on. I heard all the fans start screaming, which made me let out a little giggle into the microphone.

“ How is everyone doing tonight!” I shouted into the mic

I laughed at how everyone was screaming again. I decided to start off with my most popular song right now. I started playing the chords to my song ‘ Good 4 you’

“ Ah. Well, good for you, I guess you moved on really easily. You found a new girl and it only took a couple weeks. Remember when you said that you wanted to give me the world? (Ah-ah-ah-ah)”

I then made the crowd sing along with me.

“ Well, good for you. You look happy and healthy. Not me. If you ever cared to ask.”

I let the crowd scream the lyrics while I continued to play the guitar. I then grabbed the microphone and screamed..

“ Well, good for you, I guess you’re gettin’ everything you want. (Ah) You brought a new car and your career’s really takin’ off (Ah) It’s like we never even happened.”

While singing, I walked up the front and held the microphone close to them and let them scream the lyrics.

I then jumped in with them.

“ Person who ever got you? Well, screw that and screw you. You will never have to hurt the way you know that I do.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Louis POV

I was on the set of Enola Holmes when my phone buzzed indicating that I got a notification. I pulled it out to find the most famous singer I was in love with and liked one of my photos. I was just staring at my screen when my phone got snached out of my hand.

“ Ooh, what’s got you blushing like that? It looks like you turned into a very red tomato.” I heard Millie speak

I watched her face change from teasing to super shocked. I still felt shocked.

“ What! How?” She spits out

I shrugged my shoulders in response. Millie then gave me a playful glare. “ What do you mean you don’t know?”

I gave Millie a look of confusion. “ Millie, I just don’t know how she found my account. I mean I follow her but I don’t think she would ever follow me.”

She just nodded her head and handed my phone back. I then slid it into my pocket before we had to go back to our scene together.

Your POV

I was getting closer to the end of my new song so I went back to my microphone stand and put the mic back in its place before lowering my voice.

“ Maybe I’m too emotional, But your apathy’s like a wound in salt. Maybe I’m too emotional, or maybe you never cared at all. Maybe I’m too emotional, Your apathy is like a wound in salt.” I started leaning into my microphone and started getting my voice ready to shout soon. “ Maybe I’m too emotional, or maybe you never cared at all.” I then let the crowd sing the chorus until I shouted into the mic “ LIKE A DAMN SOCIOPATH!” I heard the crowd scream loud when I did that so I let out a giggle before continuing my song.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was now sitting down on my stool that one of my band mates brought over for me. I was strumming my acoustic guitar on my lap to my next song while talking to my fans.

“ How is everyone doing tonight?”

I got back a bunch of screams and I even heard some responses back which made me smile. “ Alright guys the show is wrapping up soon-” Before I could continue I heard the crowd “ Aww” in response. “ You guys are funny, but I have had such an amazing time hanging out and singing for you guys. I just want to let you know I have about two more songs for you guys. So the first song I want to play for you guys is ‘ Happier’ and then the last and final song of the night is going to be' ‘Good Boy’’.”

I gave the crowd a smile before going back to playing the chords to my song ‘ Happier’

I got closer to the mic and sang the first words…

“ We broke up a month ago.Your friends are mine, you know I know. You’ve moved on, found someone new. One more girl who brings out the better in you. And I thought my heart was detached. From all the sunlight of our past. But she’s so sweet, she’s so pretty, Does she mean you forgot about me?”

I then stop singing for a little while with a small frown on my face before looking up to find the crowd with their phone lights out. I gave a small smile before going back to a frown. I then sang..

“ Oh, I hope you’re happy, But not like how you were with me. I’m selfish, I know, I can’t let you go. So find someone great, but don’t be happier.”

I then pointed for the crowd to take over the singing for a little bit while I played the chords.

Louis POV Millie and I just finished our last scene of the movie so we had to change out of our outfits and head to the place where we were meeting the rest of the cast and crew members for a one last dinner event.

I was the last to arrive as per usual, so we all laughed it off before having a great time with each other before heading off in different directions.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once I was back to my house I fell into my bed and layed there for quite some time. I got interrupted with a text message, so I grabbed my phone and said Millie sent me a link to something. Without thinking I clicked on it and saw that it was a video of Y/n singing one of her popular songs. I smiled while watching it due to my huge crush on her, if I ever met her in real life I probably would pass out in front of her.

Your POV

After I sang my last line of my last song I yelled into the mic…

“ I LOVE YOU LONDON! SEE YOU REAL SOON AGAIN!”

I then ran off stage and headed to my dressing room to pack my things to then get on my toru bus that will take me to my hotel that I was staying at. While I was sitting on the bus I decided to post a couple of my pictures I took and put them on my instagram page. After I did that I then decided to stalk that actor I saw on my feed.

‘Time Jump’

It was one of the most important days of my life because I was nominated for an award at the Grammys. So I was with my make up team and someone was helping me with my outfit also. It was a simple but fashionable dress with some simple black high heel shoes.

Third Person POV

Louis was heading to the Grammy’s because of his new movie getting picked for one of the categories, but Y/n also got a nomination for Top artist, and album of the year. The both of them were so close to seeing each other in real life and they didn’t expect each other to be so starstruck.

Louis’s POV

I was walking around the red carpet with Millie when she got asked to do an interview so I stood back and waited for her to be done. While I was waiting I heard a familiar laugh being heard only a couple of feet ahead of me. I then snapped my head into the direction to find the one and only Y/n Y/l/n laughing with the person interviewing her. It took me a little while to process everything that was going around me because I could only see her in the room. I felt my heart start beating faster and felt my hands start shaking a little bit.

Millie’s POV

I was finally done with my interview when I saw Louis staring at something so I followed his eyes and saw him staring at Y/n. I felt a smirk form on my lips and pulled him over to her with all the strength I had in me.  I heard him telling me to stop but I didn’t listen since I waited to meet her too.

Your POV

I was talking to someone when I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder which made me turn my head. I saw a teenage girl and a teenage boy behind me, so I smiled before giving them my attention.

“ Hi, I’m Millie Bobby Brown and this is my friend Louis Partridge.”  she said

“ Hi, Are you guys fans? Also, are you guys by any chance actors in this movie called Enola Holmes?” I questioned

Millie looked at me shocked and nodded her head. I gave her a smile before holding my arms out to give her a hug. I felt her wrap her arms around me. “ I am such a big fan of your music and I could say the same for him back there too.”

I let out a giggle before releasing her and looked behind her to find Louis just staring. I walked over to him and gently put my hand on his shoulder which made him jump. I raised an eyebrow “ Are you good?” He then just gave me a nod. I turned my head due to hearing Millie speak.

“ He was just in shock. He's in love with you.”

Louis’s POV

I felt my face getting hotter by the minute and glared at Millie. She gave me an innocent look and smirked before walking off and leaving me with Y/n. I saw her turn around and smile at me.

“ So in love with me.” She teased

I gave out a chuckle before scratching the back of my neck and looking back at her. I was about to answer her but someone told us to head to the seats to hear the winners. I watched her walk away and smiled before heading to my seat next to Millie.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once the awards were over I decided to search for Y/n before leaving to head back to my hotel room. I saw her getting hugs from people so I stood back.

Your POV

I smiled at everyone and turned due to feeling eyes on me. I saw Louis and smiled at him. I walked over to him and gave him a hug and whispered. “ Congrats on your award.” I felt his breath on the side of my neck and heard him doing the same to me. I then pulled back due to hearing my name and slipped a piece of paper to him before kissing the side of his cheek.

Third Person POV

Louis stood there with a shocked expression again. He then looked down at the piece of paper to find her number and a message that said ‘ call me’. He then felt himself smile before heading back to his hotel to rest up.

‘Time Jump’

Y/n was chilling in her apartment writing a song when she heard her phone ring. She picked it up to find an unknown number, but just answered it hoping it would be Louis.

“ Hello?” she said with caution

“ Hi” she heard him say

Which made her let out a little giggle. “ I thought you would never call me.” she responded with. Louis chuckled on the other end. “ Yea, sorry about that. I was a little scared to call you.” Before he could say anything else he heard giggles coming from the other end of the line.

“ Why Louis?” Louis thought hard about what his next response was going to be because he didn’t want to straight up say because we were meant to be together or I was just scared of rejection. Louis finally decided to just ask..

“ Y/n.” he took a pause “ I was wondering if you would like to go out to dinner with me?”

Your POV

I let out a gasp when I heard those words and started nodding but forgetting he couldn't see me so I said..

“ Ofcourse, I will go out with you, Louis.”

Then we just chatted about our days for the rest of the day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The day my date with Louis came so quickly then I could have blinked and I was not prepared. I ran all over my house looking for things to finish off my outfit before it was time to go.

I heard a knock on my door indicating that he was here so I slipped on my heels and carefully made my way to the door. Once I opened it I was met with those hazel eyes that I fell in love with.

“ Wow, you look stunning.” he said

I felt myself start blushing. I then took in his look and stated that… “ Well you look really handsome.”

He then held his hand out for me to take. “ My lady,” he said in his accent, which made me let out a small giggle.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We were coming up to the end of the date already. He took me to this beautiful restaurant where we are now sharing a piece of cake. I saw him staring at me so I questioned him.

“ What?”

He let out a soft chuckle. “ Nothing, you're just really beautiful looking under this light.”

I felt myself start to blush which made me look down. Before I knew it I felt two fingers lift it back up. “ Don’t look down, you're gorgeous when you get all flustered.” That only made me blush harder. “ Stop.” I said giggling which made him chuckle.

Before I knew it we were back in his car driving back to my place. I was looking out the window when I felt him put his hand on my leg, which sent chills all over my body. I then put my hand on top of his and intertwined our fingers together. I smiled at the thought of us going on more dates.

Louis’s POV

I pulled into her driveway and parked my car. I turned to face her when I saw her already looking at me. I then released her hand and got out of the car to go to her side and open it for her. I walked her to her door where we both stood there for a little while. I then took a risk and leaned forward. I could feel her breath on me, I then closed the gap between us. I could feel her smile into the kiss before I felt her wrap her arms around the back of my neck. I wrapped my arms around her waist to pull her in to me more. She pulled away but kept her forehead against mine.

“ I really like you Louis.” She whispered against my lips

I smiled and said, “ I really like you too Y/n.”

I then leaned in again to give her another goodnight kiss before heading off. I walked over to my car and got in, I then waved at her with a smile on my face and pulled out of the driveway.

Third Person POV

Y/n watched Louis drive off into the distance. She felt a smile creep on her face before heading inside to dream about her date with him. Louis felt the same as her. He felt all giddy inside and he could help but smile at the thought of her. He was already planning the next date for them to go on together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Man this is long, but it was worth it because I got major butterflies from writing this for you. I hope you enjoy and if you would like more Louis then comment and I definitely write more of him.

-Samantha

[emsvegetables]

23rd: you share a bed with iwaizumi.

- it’s a weird situation that you’ve found yourself in. but maybe it’s lucky that iwaizumi is comfortable and warm, right?

no. of words: 1.6k +

so. yes. hi. again, this was pure word vomit. i hope this made sense LOL i feel like my writing is just all over the place recently!!!!!!! i hope this is okay!!!

there were many times where you thought that making friends with yumi was the worst decision you made. this was one of them.

it was the end of the year trip for your class, and everyone was super excited, including you. maybe this was your chance to tell iwaizumi that you liked him? after all, this was probably the last time you would see him, because all of you were heading to your respective colleges next year. even if he rejected you, you could just avoid him for the rest of your life! easy! super easy!

but then, of course, yumi had to ruin it.

“i’ve got an idea,” she whispers to you while the two of you were helping the rest of the class check in into the chalet.

you should’ve known something was up, judging by the grin that spread across her face when you turn to face her. you’ve known her since the both of you were five, you should’ve known that that was her up-to-no-good grin.

“what?” you ask, raising your eyebrows curiously, and yumi grins even wider.

“you’ll see,” she says cheerfully, and skips away to allocate everyone into their respective rooms.

you scrunch up your eyebrows as you watch yumi talk animatedly to the other girls, and you sink into a nearby bench and close your eyes, trying to take a short nap. it was a super long trip, and you were tired as hell.

you startle when you feel a tap on your shoulder, and you snap open your eyes to glare at the culprit, but your glare falters when you meet iwaizumi’s eyes.

“sorry,” he grins, before looking down at the empty space beside you, “this seat taken?”

you roll your eyes, trying to ignore the way you feel your heart begin to hammer against your chest, because holy shit—how can he look this good in a casual shirt and shorts?

“sit if you want to,” you shrug, before shooting him a mock glare, “and you do know that you aren’t supposed to tap someone when they’re asleep, right?”

iwaizumi snorts, and lowers himself onto the bench, before turning to smile at you, “well, my bad for waking you up, princess.”

you roll your eyes again, ignoring the way heat rushes into your cheeks when you hear what he just called you.

iwaizumi leans back on the bench, and shoots you a look.

“what?” you say, and when he smiles, you narrow your eyes.

“are you so tired that you’re going to fall asleep on a random bench?”

“sorry,” you raise your hands in surrender, “i’m sorry that our class agreed to meet at 5am in the morning to go to the chalet together, so i had to wake up at 4am to get ready.”

iwaizumi laughs, before he turns to dig into his gym bag for something, and you tilt your head curiously when he lets out a hum of approval, before fishing something out of his bag.

“here,” he says, tapping your hands to make you open them, before placing it in your hands, “drink this.”

you squint down at the can in your hands, “did you seriously bring coffee?”

“i figured someone would be tired,” he shrugs, before zipping up his bag and staring at you, “you want me to open that for you?”

you shake your head, opening the can by yourself, before smiling up at him, “thanks, iwa.”

you don’t see it, but there’s a soft smile on his face as you turn to down the coffee.

-

you should’ve known something was up when you saw the other girls smiling widely at you as yumi casually skipped over to you and iwaizumi.

“we’ve got a tiny problem,” yumi declares when she nears the both of you, and you exchange a glance with iwaizumi and look at her questioningly.

“what is it?” iwaizumi asks, and when yumi smiles, you narrow your eyes slightly.

“all the rooms are sorta taken up already, and there’s only one room with one bed left, and the both of you are the only ones that we haven’t allocated into a room,” yumi says, smiling guiltily at the both of you (and you know damn well that that’s her no-actually-i’m-not-really-guilty smile).

“so you’re telling us that we have to share a bed. and a room,” you say, and stare back at yumi, who’s smiling at you so widely you want to trample and murder her.

“iwaizumi? you’re okay with that, right?” yumi taps you lightly on the hand and blinks at you innocently.

when you turn to look at iwaizumi incredulously, because no way in hell would he be okay with this, you blink when you realise that he’s scratching his neck and not making eye contact with you.

“if there’s no other way, it’s fine, i guess,” he finally says after a long pause, and you blink in surprise.

yumi smiles, and claps her hand excitedly, “great! problem solved! cool!”

and when she links her arms with yours and tiptoes up to whisper into your ear that you’re welcome, you’ve never wanted to die of embarrassment and strangle her before.

-

“i’ll sleep on the floor,” iwaizumi says instantly when the both of you step into the room and close the door behind the both of you.

you feel a warmth in your chest, when you hear that, because of course iwaizumi’s going to be sweet and be a gentleman and give up the bed, but you scrunch up your brows when you realise that he’s going to be sleeping on the floor for three nights straight, and that’s going to give him a hell of a backache, so you frown and shake your head.

“no way,” you say, narrowing your eyes at him, “you’re going to get a horrible backache! you’re sleeping on the bed.”

you nod firmly when iwaizumi lets out a little noise of surprise, and turns to look at you.

“are you sure?” iwaizumi asks, and then frowns, “no, it’s okay, i’ll sleep on the floor. it’ll be okay.”

“iwa, no,” you say, and iwaizumi continues to frown at you, “it’s okay, iwa, we’ll put a pillow in the middle of the bed! it’s a king-sized bed, so it’ll be big enough for the both of us, it’ll be fine, iwa.”

iwaizumi frowns even further, and shakes his head again, “no, it’s okay, (Y/N), it’s cute that you’re being stubborn about this, but it’s really okay, i don’t mind sleeping on the floor.”

you ignore the way your heart speeds up when you hear him call you cute.

“if you sleep on the floor, i’ll sleep on the floor too, none of us will sleep on the bed,” you say, and iwaizumi narrows his brows in annoyance and sighs.

“fine,” he says, “but if you feel uncomfortable at any time, you must tell me, okay?”

you nod, and smile at him, “okay, iwa.”

it warms your heart to see how sweet he is to you, but you know that he’s just being a gentleman like he’s always been, and you’re not really that special, because he would’ve done this for someone else as well.

-

“goodnight, iwa,” you say, trying to ignore the way your heart is beating against your chest because he’s lying right next to you, and he smells so good, and you like him so bloody much.

“good night, (Y/N),” iwaizumi says.

-

when you wake up in the morning, you blink when you realise that the covers were really warm, and smelt really good.

did they smell this good yesterday night? were they even this warm yesterday night?

you roll over to your other side, and you blink when you realise that you’re only milimetres away from iwaizumi’s face.

oh.

and that’s when you realise that the covers were actually iwaizumi’s arms, and the smell was coming from iwaizumi.

shit. when did this happen? where did the pillow go?

you try to wriggle out of his grip, but you still when iwaizumi lets out a groan and tightens his hands around your waist, and pulls you closer to him and nuzzles his head into your shoulders.

oh.

this...this wasn’t bad.

but iwaizumi’s so close to you, that if you just lean forward, your lips will touch his.

you blink again, because you don’t know what to do.

that’s when iwaizumi opens his eyes, and you gasp in shock, and he also gasps and recoils away from you.

“oh my god,” he says, his eyes widening as he pushes himself up and glances at you, “was i just hugging you? holy shit. fuck. oh my god. i’m so sorry.”

you can’t help but think he looks so adorable, with his furrowed eyebrows and reddening cheeks, and you let out a laugh.

but then you fall silent, and realise that it’s now or never.

“hey, iwa?” you say softly, and iwaizumi frowns and looks back at you.

“i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to hug you, if it made you uncomfortable--”

“i like you,” you say, and iwaizumi quietens and looks at you.

he’s silent for a moment, and you’re thinking that you might’ve screwed things up when iwaizumi blinks at you, and then opens his mouth to speak.

“are you serious?” he asks sharply, and you blink and nod your head.

“yeah,” you say, and then look away nervously, “it’s okay if you don’t like me back though, i understand if you—”

“are you kidding me?” iwaizumi cuts in, before reaching forward to press a kiss onto your forehead, “(Y/N), i like you too.”

you smile, and you’re almost about to kiss him, when you realise that you probably have bad breath and that’ll scare him away, so you pull back from him just as he leans in.

iwaizumi frowns.

“what?”

“i have bad breath in the morning, iwa,” you say nervously, and iwaizumi laughs.

“i have bad breath too. everyone does, (Y/N), c’mere,” he says, pulling you closer and pressing a kiss onto your lips.

maybe being friends with yumi wasn’t actually the worst decision you’ve made.

back to my fluffvember masterlist!

general taglist :)

send an ask to be added in :D

@mrs-kuroojinguji @galacticstxrdust @h0rny-m3ss @strawberriimilkshake @lexysclubhouse @alluringeternity @newfriendjen @aam1na @simpinghrs @boosyboo9206 @earl-mint-tea @sachirou-senpai @kuboyasuuu @cotton-hashira @kellesvt @mochipk @ohbois-biggay-bnha @deadontheinsidebut @atsumubabe @wisepandaslimeland @doodleniella @tttournesolll @millie-mint @the-moons-raes @chaosamu @flairlust @l3v1achan @bellesowl @wheeshllumi @karasimpno @sodasketches @dai-tsukki-desu @isentsworld @lavearchives

fluffvember taglist:

send an ask if you only want to be added to this instead of the general taglist!

@omigogames @unicorngluttony @thesecondapplepienation @tsukisemi @tamaguchi @omibaby @psycopath-satan @shibayamasbae @churochuu @crazyrichashea @let-me-have-my-own-name @fo-love @heykoutarou @lovelyrynn @neomuxuxi @haikyuuhopes @bluntkingkuroo @abswrites @ne-kuroo @yadane-bakabaka @song-of-storms162 @lady-snavely @hawksnumberoneuwu @rkives-keiji

i’ll tag those that i couldn’t tag later! this is a scheduled post.

[lallyloo]

Sending you some lurv ❤️❤️

How are the Wild Horses boys doing in their farmhouse? Did they ever get their lap dog(s)?

CAL! ❤❤ They did get their dog... a couple months ago I actually wrote a secret little thing about it that literally three people have read.. so.. since you asked..

Wild Horses - Merle

(2000+ words of pure softness under the cut)

Link hasn’t given up on getting a dog. He checks the classifieds a few times a week, watching for free puppy postings, and he and Rhett have even talked about stopping by the pet store in town – but neither of them can justify spending several hundred dollars on a dog.

They’re still settling into their farmhouse. Rhett didn’t have much to bring – basically his clothes, his CD player, some books, and a couple posters. Link had a bit more to bring – clothes, books, tapes and cds, movies, and an old TV with a built-in VCR. He also managed to talk his mom into letting him have some old furniture and a couple lamps to use in their new place.

He’d taken his time telling his mom about the house, trying to let her down gently, but she took it surprisingly well. She said she’d rather they were together in their own house than have Link constantly staying overnight at the milk house. Link didn’t ask what she meant by that – likely something to do with his virtue or some other old-fashioned idea. He figured she was being supportive in her own way, and that’s all he’d been hoping for.

His grandma had pared down some of her kitchen cupboards, giving them some old plates and glasses and cutlery to fill their own kitchen. They even had a cupboard dedicated to bowls and measuring cups, with the suggestion that they might bake something eventually. The idea seemed completely foreign to Link, but Rhett has been talking about learning to bake bread, so they figure those items will likely be put to good use eventually.

Their first, and so far ONLY, purchase was a new bed for their bedroom. Link wanted a king sized bed, but Rhett was quietly worried there’d be too much space between them on a big mattress like that. So they settled for a queen, and Link picked out sheets, a comforter, and some fluffy pillows. After all that time sleeping on the tiny milk house bed, they both swear their new bed is like sleeping on the softest cloud.

The house itself is still a work in progress, and will be for a long while, but as far as they’re both concerned it’s theirs and it’s perfect.

But, in Link’s opinion, it still needs a dog.

He’s thrilled when his granddad sends him on an errand one afternoon, and he spots a sign propped up at the end of a farmhouse driveway on the way into town. It’s an old piece of plywood with FREE PUPPIES painted on with red paint.

It feels like it’s meant to be.

There’s no more information on the sign, and no number to call, so Link finishes his errands in town, and then stops by the pet store and buys some dog food and a couple chew toys, before heading back to the farm to tell Rhett about his discovery.

“It’s the last farm before the old grist mill,” Link explains as he fills up a water bucket. “The one where the house is a ways back? The sign out by the road says free puppies.”

Even though they’ve been talking about it for awhile, Link figures it might still take a bit of convincing.

When he’d been thinking about it on the drive back, he imagined Rhett might be reluctant at first, and then laugh when he saw the dog food in the truck, and then still need a bit more prodding about it.

But Rhett seems open to the idea right away.

“You wanna go after work?”

“Yeah!” Link grins. “That’s what I was hopin’. I already got dog food and everything.”

“What?” Rhett laughs, “When?”

“When I was in town.

Rhett just smiles and shakes his head, but doesn’t argue.

Link can’t help but smile to himself as he gets back to work.

They’re getting a dog.

After work they head straight to the farm to see the puppies. Link already had the food and chew toys in the truck, and Link’s grandma gave them a box and an old blanket for the new puppy.

They’re not really sure what to expect as they drive up to the farmhouse, and they’re both looking around as they head up the long driveway.

“You’re not gonna surprise me, are ya?” Rhett asks.

“Huh?”

“You know, buyin’ me a house?” Rhett looks over at him and grins.

Link laughs. “You think I got money to buy this place?”

Rhett doesn’t answer, he just dips his head and takes another look out the windshield as he steers, his eyes roaming over the brick farmhouse and the massive fields in behind. There’s a tractor way in the back of the field, moving along at a slow pace.

“Maybe someday,” Rhett says quietly, like he’s lost in thought.

Link hums in agreement and stares out the passenger side window.

“Hey, there’s someone.” Link points to a woman leaning over a flowerbed outside the house, and she turns to look their way just as Rhett puts the truck in park and cuts the engine.

She watches as they both climb out of the truck, and when they approach the house she heads over to meet them.

“Somethin’ I can do for you, boys?”

“We saw your sign about the puppies,” Link explains, pointing to the road. “You got any left?”

“Sure do,” the woman smiles, “still got a whole litter waitin’ for a home.”

She gestures for them to follow her, and they do.

“I’m Millie,” she says as they walk.

“I’m Rhett,” Rhett says politely.

“I’m Link.”

Millie smiles. “You boys live around here?”

“My grandparents live a few miles from here,” Link explains. “Cattle farm. We both work there.”

“So you’re needin’ a farm dog?”

“Not exactly,” Link smiles. “We just wanted a dog around.”

He doesn’t offer any more than that, and Millie doesn’t ask. She leads them around the farmhouse to a little pen in behind.

The puppies start jumping and yipping when they notice people approaching, and when they reach the pen Link realizes the dogs are some sort of lab mutt mix. His gaze immediately goes to Rhett, because he wanted a lap dog and these puppies will definitely grow beyond lap sized.

But if Rhett is concerned, he’s not showing it. His eyes are moving from one dog to the next, like he’s studying them, so Link turns his own focus to the puppies.

“Go on in and take a look,” Millie says as she opens up the pen, “they’re friendly.”

Rhett steps in first and kneels down amongst the puppies, so Link steps in too and kneels down across from him, waiting to see which dogs might approach them.

There’s a rambunctious one, a nippy one, one that just seems to want to sleep, and a couple randoms that seem to be doing their own thing. After a minute or so, one random puppy trots over to him and Link offers his hand. The puppy sniffs him for a second, gives him a lick, and then plunks itself down over Link’s knees.

“She’s a pretty little one, ain’t she?” Millie says.

Link smiles and nods, smoothing his hand down the puppy’s back. She’s shiny black, with white markings on her paws and under her chin. She seems happy to be sitting with him, and doesn’t shy away from his petting.

“Only girl in the bunch,” Millie continues, smiling at him. “Looks like she’s taken a likin’ to you.”

“Rhett..” Link whispers, and when Rhett looks over Link motions to the puppy.

Rhett watches them for a moment and then reaches over to give the dog a scratch behind the ears.

“Can we still call her Merle?” Rhett asks quietly.

“Yeah, man,” Link replies, “that’d actually be kinda cool..”

He should’ve known Rhett would be easy about it. Link was the one who wanted a dog in the first place, and he can’t think of much that Rhett wouldn’t give him if he asked.

They grin at each other, and then Link looks over at Millie.

“Can we take her?”

“Sure can, boys,” Millie replies. “You need a crate or you just puttin’ her in yer pickup?”

“We got a box,” Link explains, “with a blanket..”

“Well that sounds good.”

While Rhett talks to Millie about what shots the puppy will soon need, Link holds Merle and takes her around to say goodbye to her siblings.

“Is the mama dog around?”

Millie shakes her head. “She’s out in the back field with my son. But don’t you worry, I’ll let her know her pup went to a good home.”

Link nods and follows Rhett to the truck, holding Merle close as they walk.

Millie watches them as they load her in the box and Link offers her a chew toy.

“Looks like she’ll be a happy little lady.”

“She will be,” Link says, at the same time Rhett says, “We’ll take good care of her.”

They give Millie a wave as they head back out the driveway.

When they’re on the road, and the truck speeds up, Merle starts to whine.

Link leans over the box and makes soft shushing sounds at her, reaching in to pet her gently. Her little body is trembling so Link pulls the blanket up around her.

“Should I slow down?” Rhett asks.

“Nah, she’ll be alright,” Link replies, “let’s just get her home.”

Once they’re back at their farmhouse, Rhett makes them some dinner while Link carries Merle around and shows her the place. He sticks to the main floor, figuring they can tour her around the second floor later. He points out each room, whispering softly in Merle’s ear, and then he takes a seat on the floor, offering her some toys and kibble.

“I forgot to get a water bowl.”

“Do we need some kind’a special one?” Rhett asks from the kitchen.

“I was imaginin’ one of those little bowls that says ‘doggy’ on it or somethin’.”

“They make those?”

“I don’t know,” Link shrugs, “in my mind they do.”

“Well we can go lookin’ for somethin’ on the weekend,” Rhett says, and he opens a few cupboards, glancing around before pulling out an old stainless steel mixing bowl they’d got from Link’s grandma. “This okay for now?”

“Yeah.”

Rhett fills it with water and brings it over, setting it down in front of Merle. He watches for a second and then takes a seat next to Link on the floor.

“You happy?”

“Yeah,” Link smiles, “she’s perfect.”

Rhett nods, watching Merle drink from the giant bowl.

“She’s not gonna stay small though,” Link adds, and he watches Rhett, trying to read his expression.

Finally Rhett looks over at him and smiles. “That’s alright.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, man. We got that big bed. There’s room for the three of us in there.”

Link stares at him for a second. “You’re not gonna let her sleep between us are ya?”

“Just when she’s a puppy.”

“Rhett!”

“Man, she’s gonna fall off the bed if we put her on the edge!”

“We can get her a little doggy bed!”

“Where’s that gonna go?”

“Next to our bed!”

“On the floor?” Rhett reaches over and picks up Merle, holding her up so her little face is pressed next to his, and they’re both looking at Link. “You’re gonna put this sweet girl on the floor?”

“FINE.” Link laughs. “Fine, I’ll sleep on the floor. You and Merle can have the bed. Just come on down when you want a cuddle.”

Rhett lets out a booming laugh and sets Merle down carefully before tackling Link, pushing him down onto his back and hovering over him. Merle jumps around them excitedly, sniffing them and giving their arms little licks.

“You really gonna fuss and sleep on the floor?”

“Maybe,” Link replies, biting back a grin, trying to make himself frown instead. He’s not really bothered, he just likes the attention from Rhett when he pretends to be.

“Well, I’ll sleep on the floor with you then,” Rhett says, leaning down to kiss Link, soft. “Merle can have the bed.”

Link turns his head to look at Merle, “Hear that, girl? You just got here and you’re already takin’ over.”

Merle lets out a tiny yip, and they watch her for a moment before turning back to each other.

“I gotta finish cookin’,” Rhett says.

“Okay.”

“But after we eat you wanna have a cuddle?”

Link grins up at him. “On the floor?”

“Man, wherever you want.”

“Well this is how we live now,” Link says, dragging out the joke. “On the floor. Merle’s in charge.”

“I’m fine with that,” Rhett says, “I’ll go wherever you go.”

It’s softer than Link expects and he reaches up to grab Rhett, pulling him down to kiss him again, a little harder this time. Merle lets out another yip, lunging at them playfully and then bounding away.

“I’m gonna take her upstairs and show her around,” Link says against Rhett’s mouth.

Rhett nods, “I’ll call ya when supper’s ready.”

Rhett heads back to the kitchen, and Link tucks Merle under his arm and takes her upstairs for a tour.

It feels right, the three of them, even if she does take over their bed.

[chickensarentcheap]

Never Gonna Be Alone- Chapter 73

Title: Best Laid Plans

Warnings: some profanity, talk of domestic abuse, child death

Tagging:  @tragiclyhip, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @ocfairygodmother, @lokitrasho, @miss-smutty,  @raith-way​, @ocappreciation​

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28860450/chapters/85024549

He’s up at quarter to six; throwing on a muscle shirt and a pair of work out pants and slipping into the well worn sneakers he keeps by the back door. A run on the beach as the sun peeks over the horizon is exactly what he needs; his bad knees cushioned by sand beneath him, a steady, cool breeze blowing in off the ocean, and the sky painted in vivid orange and gold and stunning pink streaks. The two dogs run on either side of him; their tags clinking against their collars, each carrying a tennis ball in their mouths in hopes of play after the hard work is done. The excursion to his body is calming to both brain and soul; pushing all thoughts of Mark and his devious intentions onto the back burner and concentrating on nothing but his breathing and his heart rate and the sights and sounds around him. And once at the finish line, he bends at the waist and places his hands on his thighs; eyes closed as the sweat trickles off his forehead and runs down his nose and his temples and gathers at the nape of his neck. Chest heaving and burning; a familiar discomfort that serves to remind him of just how far he’s come. Fighting against the odds to complete the long and painful recovery after the incident with Nathan and coming out almost as good as he was before; strong, agile, his health better than it's ever been. He’d somehow survived and he’d long ago swore he'd never take another minute for granted; always grateful to wake up and find himself on top of the ground instead of below it.

After a half an hour of entertaining the dogs, he returns home; splashing cold water on his face and neck and running wet hands through his sweaty hair and then heading for the kitchen. Busying himself with the morning routine; brewing his coffee and the three shots of espresso he always adds to it. The smoothies are next; a wide selection of fresh fruit and various supplements and vitamins recommended by both his doctor and Esme’s fetal and maternal medicine specialist. And the moment he hears her footsteps above -small and light, but just heavy enough to NOT be a child- he begins preparing her breakfast; kettle boiling for her tea while he throws a couple of slices of bread in the toaster and gathers up a container of plain yogurt and a handful of different fruits to chop. He glances over his shoulder and smiles in greeting when she joins him; messy hair held away from her face and out of her eyes with a sparkly purple headband stolen from one of their daughters and her tiny frame clad in a pair of baggy Hello Kitty night shorts and one of his t-shirts. And before he can open his mouth to offer up a ‘good morning’, she’s wrapping her around his waist from behind; yawning loudly and rubbing her cheek against the fabric of his shirt before laying her head against his back.

“Babe…” he warns. “ I probably stink. Gonna make you pass out. Give the baby in utero PTSD.”

“Bullshit. You smell good. You smell like a man. MY man. “

“All the kids still asleep?”

Esme nods. “You already went for a run?”

“Just a small one. Took the dogs with me. Tired them out.”

“I thought you said Sunday was your ‘set in stone rest day’?

“I did. But that’s just for lifting heavy.” Turning around to face her, he takes her face in his hands, turning her head up towards him as he leans down to kiss her. “I’m still going to run every day.”

“You know how I feel about this; when it comes to you pushing yourself too hard.”

“I know you worry. I know you don’t blow out my knee or fuck my femur up somehow. I’m taking it easy; I’m not going full tilt and I’m not ignoring my body when it starts screaming at me. I’m doing a lot better; when it comes to recognizing the signs and paying attention to them.”

“I just want you to be careful. I don’t want you hurting yourself. And you've been spending a lot of time in the gym. You went from one three hour a work out a day to TWO. That’s a lot, babe. Even for a bad ass like you. I know you feel this need to be bigger and stronger and…”

“I’m past that. Maybe just looking to put on another ten. That’s it. That’s probably as big as I’ll ever get again. Sorry. No return to the thicc, lumberjack stage that you enjoyed so much.”

“I DID enjoy it. You had the big muscles and the extra weight in your tummy and your hair was short and your beard was really thick. It was a good look on you. A VERY good look.”

“But…”

“But I love you EVERY way. And how your body is right now? That’s how you looked when we met. When I fell in love with you. So it tends to be my favourite. It’s very sentimental to me. And you know what would make it even MORE sentimental?”

“If you want me to get the haircut, I’ll get the haircut.”

“You would do that for little old me? You’d do that to keep your pregnant and extremely hormonal wife happy?”

“I would do anything for you. Pregnant or not.”

“Best husband ever,” she declares, and stands on her tip toes as he kisses her once more; hands tightly grasping the sides of his t-shirt.

She’d long ago gotten used to that ‘after work out’ stench; the potent tang of sweat , the lingering remains of laundry detergent, and the cool, brisk, freshness of antiperspirant. It’s HIS smell. One that reminds her of safety and protection and love. Of HOME. When he’s away, it’s those combined, familiar scents that offer comfort; bringing solace to her aching heart and effectively relieving at least some of the fear and worry nagging at her. Sleeping with his pillow every night and often wearing one of his t-shirts or bundling herself up in one of his hoodies; soothed by the smell of him clinging to the sheets and clothes and subduing her rattled nerves just enough for her to fall asleep.

It never gets easier; kissing him goodbye at the front door or the airport and then wondering -as he walks away- if she’ll ever see him again. The job isn’t a life you ever really get used to; lying to yourself when you tell others that you’re completely fine with your husband being thousands of miles away, putting his life on the line in the hopes of saving another. But she copes; knowing he can more than handle himself when it comes to the physical aspect and that he’ll do whatever it takes to get back to her and the kids. But the ache is real when he’s not under the same roof; both her and their brood feeling his absence and both saddened and angered about it. And the worry and fear never disappear; feeling as if she’s holding her breath the entire time, never releasing it until the moment he walks back through the front door. Safe and sound.

Pressing his lips to her forehead, he turns towards the counter once more; snagging a knife from the butcher’s block and preparing the only breakfast her stomach has been able to handle. Dry toast accompanied by chunks of fresh fruit, a smoothie containing all the vitamins and supplements recommended by her doctor, and a tea that helps with calming both her tummy and her nerves. While the nausea lingers throughout the entire day, the mornings have been especially horrendous; unable to keep even the smallest sips of water down and struggling with both weakness and dizziness. All of the pregnancies have been the same in that respect; losing weight before actually managing to put it on, suffering from headaches and queasiness and even a handful of scares that sent them running to the hospital in fear there was something terribly wrong. But the sixth pregnancy is turning out to be an even bigger struggle; half a dozen different medications fighting to keep her blood pressure down, help her sleep, and keep her eating and drinking properly.

“I’m surprised you’re up,” Tyler remarks, as she moves to the stove to tend to the boiling kettle. Offering a mug with the tea bag already in it; his hand briefly resting on the small of her back as he places a kiss on her temple. “You were sleeping pretty good when I went on my run.”

Sighing, she sets the mug down on the stovetop and fills it with water. “I probably still would be if your spawn didn’t wake me up out of nowhere and send me on a mad dash to the bathroom. I’ve come to expect SOME sickness, but this?”

“This one’s giving you an extra hard time, huh? What did the doctor say? Something about making too much human growth hormone? I don’t know. She completely lost me when she broke out the science speak.”

“A variant of it. And it’s too much of ALL the hormones. Kind of weird; that the last pregnancy would be the worst. You’d think it would be the easiest; your body totally used to everything, able to push that sucker out with only two tries. I swear to Christ, Tyler. If this is another Millie labour…”

“You’ll cut my dick off?”

“That’s a little extreme. You need your dick. It’s still very useful. I’ll just chop your balls off. So you can’t make any more swimmers.”

“How about we not do that and just let the surgeon handle things?”

“I want a goddamn guarantee from him that this isn’t going to happen again; your penis remarkably healing itself and letting those swimmers of yours have free reign.”

“I’m going to jump in here for a second. You realize your body fucked up too, yeah? That it took BOTH of us to make this baby? Your tubes were tied. Right after you had Kota and Brookie. You’re not supposed to be able to get pregnant in the first place.”

She stares at him over the rim of her mug. “Even if I hadn’t gotten them tied, you weren’t supposed to be able to produce any sperm. Ever again. For the rest of your natural born life. But low and behold…”

“You…” He points the knife at her. “...need to accept some responsibility in all of this.”

She huffs, taking a sip of tea and then setting it on the stove; hands on her hips in a show of defiance. “I will do no such thing.”

“Come on, this can’t all be pinned entirely on me. Both our bodies had to screw up for this to happen. So be a big girl…” snagging her by the front of her t-shirt, he gently pulls her into him. “...and take some of the blame.”

She stares up at him; a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth and those enormous, dark eyes sparkling mischievously. “No. You can’t make me.”

“Listen pocket wife, I’m a foot and three inches taller than you and almost a hundred pounds heavier. I can make you.”

“I’d like to see you try. You don’t intimidate me. Your muscles and your resting asshole face and all those tattoos and scars. They don’t scare me a bit.”

“You realize I have ways of convincing you, don’t you? Ways that don’t involve intimidation. “

“Yeah?” Both hands clutch the front of her shirt as her body leans into his. “What kind of ways are we talking about then?”

He swipes the tip of his tongue across his bottom lip. “Sexual ones.”

“You realize that sounds more like pleasure than punishment, right?”

“You remember that thing we did back in New York City. In the bathtub. The thing you claim to hate but always seem to love? The one thing that I always can count on to make you squirt? Do you know what thing I’m talking about?”

“I know EXACTLY what you’re talking about.”

“Well next time around, when you least expect it? I’m going to do that twice as much. Only this time there won’t be a happy ending. For you, anyway.”

Her eyes narrow. “You wouldn’t.”

“Yes. Yes I would.”

“You’re evil.”

“Most evil husband out there.”

“You may be the most evil, but you’re also the sexiest out there. So at least you have THAT going for you,” she chides, giving a tiny yelp when he brings a palm down on the cheek of her ass in a ringing slap. Giggling when his hand reverts to lightly pinching and squeezing before drawing her into him; body pressed against his and her hands tightening their grip on his shirt as he leans down to kiss her. Long and slow and deep; the brief contact between their tongues finding her curling her toes and sighing into his mouth.

When he pulls away he’s smiling down at her; blue eyes sparkling with a mixture of unbridled lust and pure adoration. Hand moving from her ass to the side of her cheek; knuckles grazing over the soft skin before gentle fingertips clear wayward strands of hair away from her face and tuck them behind her ear. “You’re beautiful.”

“You need glasses.”

“I already knew that. But needing them doesn’t mean you’re not beautiful.”

The smile she gives is shaky; tears welling in her eyes as a lump of emotion wedges firmly in her throat. It’s overwhelming at times; seeing his love, adoration, and affection laid so bare. This big, strong man with his myriad of tattoos and scars and a lifetime of trauma, guilt, and regret. So brave and fearless yet so vulnerable at the same time; possessing a heart that he’s even bigger than his body and a beauty to his soul that not even his father, Asif, Mahajan, or Nathan had been able to rob him of. Working as a team, she’d spent years helping chip away at the seemingly impenetrable walls that he’d built around his heart; patiently urging him outside of his comfort zone and encouraging that humanity lingering inside of him to make itself fully known. In the end, the reward was far beyond anything she could ever imagined; a man that loves her so wholly and completely. And profoundly. So much so it often takes her breath away; and all consuming and often leaving her feeling unworthy of such devotion.

He frowns when he notices the tears in her eyes and the tell tale wobble of her lower lip and chin. “What’s the matter? Why are you gonna cry? What…?”

Her voice comes out as a childlike whimper; reminding him of Addie when she’s been scolded or has had a particularly rough run in with Millie and the teasing was just too much to take. “I really need a hug right now.”

Setting the knife on the counter, he gathers her in his arms. One arm circling her waist as a hand settles on the back of her skull; palm lightly pressing her head into his chest. And when she stands on the top of his feet and perches on her tiptoes in order to return the embrace, he crouches down until she’s able to successfully wrap both arms around his neck. His beautiful, tiny wife; his best friend, truest confident, and his rock during his darkest and most dire of times. Always sticking by his side no matter how difficult he sometimes makes things; forever patient and attentive during the long and painful recovery after Nathan, always forgiving him for his sins and mistakes even when he can’t forgive himself. Suddenly seeming so weak and vulnerable herself; her entire body trembling and her tears seeping through the fabric of his shirt.

“You’re gonna be alright,” he promises, and presses a kiss to her ear. “It’s gonna be okay. It’s ALL gonna be okay.”

*****

He hates seeing her like this; face lined with worry and exhaustion, shoulders drooped as if carrying the weight of the world upon them, eyes dark and downcast instead of sparkling and playful. He’d long ago gotten used to her morning persona; overly cheerful and extremely talkative compared to his grumpiness and need for complete and utter silence until he’s at least finished his coffee. So it’s unsettling when she deviates from the norm; missing the familiarity and the routine of her chattiness and her teasing and witty banter. Instead completely silent as she sits across from him at the table on the back deck; her feet resting in his lap as she merely nibbles at the dry toast and moves the pieces of various fruits around on her plate.

He gestures at her plate with his fork. “You need to eat. Start putting weight on instead of it dropping off.”

“It’s not like I’m NOT trying.” She spears a chunk of watermelon and brings it to her lips, taking a tiny bite before setting it back down again. “I WANT to eat. My body is BEGGING me to eat. But it’s kind of hard when you just feel...I don’t know...off.”

“Something we need to worry about? Something to do with the baby?”

“No. I feel fine that way. Other than being crazy nauseous and already having insane heartburn. How much hair is this kid going to have? Because the only other time I suffered this bad…”

“We ended up with Addie. Hairiest damn kid I have EVER seen. Hands down.”

She manages a smile, then nibbles at a slice of dry toast. “Remember how it was practically head to toe? Because she was a preemie?”

“She looked like a little monkey. A cute one, mind you. But a monkey.”

“Don’t ever say that to her. It’ll be her new obsession; monkey this, monkey that. None of our other babies had much hair. If any at all. Well, Declan…”

“I will never forget seeing that head of hair. Bright red.”

“You looked so confused,” Esme muses, as she once more pulls her plate towards her and attempts to eat. “When he was crowning. It was like he had two heads or something.”

Tyler winks at her from across the table. “I was trying to figure out when you had time to get busy with me AND the cable guy.”

“Baby, he is all yours. Without a doubt. The cable man didn’t stand a chance getting close to me. So unless you can get pregnant just by breathing the same air as someone…”

“I hope you’d have better standards than that guy. If you’re going to do something like that, can you at least have the respect to go a notch higher than I am in quality?”

“That’s not even remotely possible. You’re already on the very top rung of quality. In fact, you’re in another league all your own. All by yourself. If you have the best, why settle for less?”

A grin plays on his mouth. “You are so good for my ego.”

“Besides, we both know I’m the last person that would EVER do something like that. I am way too hopelessly and madly and wildly in love with you. Always have been. Always will be. So unless you’re planning on going somewhere, you’re stuck with me. For the long haul.”

“I’m perfectly happy where I am. And with who I’m with. You know that, yeah? That I’d never do something like that. No matter who’s trying to get with me? I would never...EVER..cheat on you.”

“This is stemming from my insecurities, isn't it? Those women yesterday.”

“I just wanted to get it out there. I don’t care about any of them. There might as well not even be any other women on earth. The only one that matters? The only one I want? Is you. And that’s not going to change.”

“And you say I’m good for YOUR ego?”

“I mean, maybe it doesn’t need to be said. Maybe you already realize all that. Or maybe you’re going to tell me that you don’t need the words; you can see everything in my eyes anyway. I just think sometimes I should say it. Who knows, maybe I need to tell you more than you need to hear it.”

Well…” She reaches for his hand that rests on the tabletop, running her fingertips along his forearm and over his palm before lacing their fingers together. “...a girl DOES like to hear how much she’s adored and worshipped.”

“I thought you like it better when I SHOW you how much.”

“That too. But sometimes it’s a nice little bonus; hearing the words.”

Pushing his chair away, he stands and leans across the table; free hand reaching out to cradle her cheek in its palm. “I worship you. I adore you. I love you. And I can’t live without you.”

While tears sparkle in her eyes, her smile is genuine; filling out her cheeks and crinkling the bridge of her nose. “And you say you’re not romantic.”

He bends down to kiss her; the soft press and languid movements of closed mouth upon closed mouth. “I do have my moments,” he says with a grin, running the tip of a finger down the bridge of her nose, playfully tapping the end of it before returning to his seat.

They sit in companionable silence. Enjoying the crisp, refreshing breeze that rolls in off the ocean and the familiar yet calming sounds of the outdoors. The waves rolling up onto the shore, the rustling of the trees as they sway in the wind and the different melodies that come from Esme’s collection of wind chimes attached to the awnings of the pool house. It’s home. The familiar yet never boring sights and sounds of the where they’re the most comfortable; where they grow and nurture their family and take advantage of the many spoils given to them by such a beautiful and expansive piece of land.

Returning to Australia had been the best move they’d ever made. The start of strengthening not only their marriage, but every aspect of the life and relationship they share; making sure to nurture and grow each separate component that makes them, THEM. Often having to pull back from the chaos and stress of everyday existence to remind themselves that they’re not just spouses and people raising kids together; they’re each other’s confidants, best friends and devoted and faithful lovers. Two unique individuals that share a bond unlike many could ever fully understand; broken and in tatters when they’d first met yet somehow managing to comfort and heal one another. What had happened in Dhaka will forever remain the foundation their life together has been built open. A rather odd concoction of many things; shared grief and regret, adrenaline and fear, profound lust accompanied by the pangs of the heart that remind you that you’re still human. And a lot of blood, sweat and tears. All combined with the unforgettable stenches of raw sewage, blood and sweat, and spilled gasoline.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He breaks the silence first, pushing away his empty plate and reaching for his smoothie. Satisfied with her attempt to get food into her belly; her own meal almost completely finished save for a couple bites of toast and a small handful of grapes. Her feet once more resting in his lap; both hands curled around the plastic tumbler that contains the thickened ‘super shake’ he’d made for her earlier.

“By ‘it’ I’m assuming you mean Mark?”

Tyler nods.

“What more is there to say? He’s in town. Not like there’s anything we can really do about it. Not until he at least makes a move.”

“I’ve got guys trying to track him down. Looking into every hotel, every bed and breakfast, every short term rental within a fifty mile radius. Unless he’s gone totally off the grid and he’s holed up in a cave somewhere, my guys will find him.”

“Is that really what you were doing last night? Taking care of all of that stuff? Getting people going on all this?”

“It was some of what I was doing. Not all of it. When you came in, I was doing exactly what I told you I was. I’d already gotten it all set up; guys already starting to dig. Told ‘em not to leave any stone unturned; Mark’s crafty and he’s slippery and he’s going to do everything he can to avoid me catching up to him. He wants the element of surprise; get to you when my guard is down. I’m hoping to get to him before that happens.”

“When do you ever let your guard down?”

“Even I slip up, Esme. You know that better than anyone.”

“Tyler Rake doesn’t make mistakes when it’s family on his line. He rarely makes them when it’s complete strangers he’s looking out for. You’re not the type to fall asleep at the wheel, babe. Especially when it comes to the kids. And ESPECIALLY when it comes to me.”

“I can’t be around you twenty-four seven. There’s going to be times I can’t be with you. As much as I’d love to be glued to your hip…”

“Do you trust the guys you picked? You don’t exactly hand that out lightly, Tyler. And you’ve always been very careful about who you bring into the business. You’ve always had the strictest hiring practices I’ve ever seen. You don’t just bring anyone aboard. And if you’re willing to put them in charge of keeping an eye on him…”

“I trust them when it comes to the job. They’re some of the best I’ve ever seen, actually.”

“Other than yourself, you mean.

“They’re good, Me. They’re quick on their feet and they’re strong as fuck and they will not back down. From anyone or anything.”

“But…”

“But I don’t fully trust anyone when it comes to you. That’s not something I can give; just hand over your life like that. No matter how well I know someone or how good of a merc they are. But I don’t have a choice, do I? It’s not possible to be around every second of every day. I wish it was. I wish I was the only one taking care of you. But…”

“If your gut tells you that these guys can handle it, then that’s what you go with. I trust you, Tyler. Whether it’s protecting me on your own or making the decision to hand it off to someone else. Your instincts are so strong. Some of the strongest I have ever seen. And if they’re telling you that this is right...that these men are right…”

“They��re telling me that I don’t have any other choice. That I NEED to trust these guys. And I want to Esme; I want to be able to sit here and tell you that I trust them one hundred percent. But other than you? There’s no one I trust that way.”

“If you say this is the right decision and that these are the right people, then I’ll go with that. Because I trust YOU. I always have. I always will. So if this is the move you need to make and you’re confident in it…”

“As confident as I’m gonna be.”

“Then there’s nothing more to talk about. If you trust them, then so do I. Simple as that.”

He nods slowly as he considers her words, then offers a small smile and once more takes her hand; lifting it to his lips and pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist.

“I know you don’t have any answers. And to be honest, I don’t expect any. But I just don’t understand. Why is he doing this? Why now? If it’s a revenge thing, why wait this long? I haven’t been married to him for fifteen years. Why wait that long?”

“I don’t know, Me. I don’t even know if that’s his angle.”

“Everything says it is. What else could he possibly want? Do you think he’s a threat? To me?”

“Yeah,” Tyler reluctantly admits. “I do. He wouldn’t come out of the woodwork after all this time and play all those little mind games in New York and then make it a point to show up here IF he wasn’t planning something. I just don't know exactly what it is. Or when he’s gonna make his move. And hopefully the guys I have trying to find him will track him down. Sooner the better.”

“What will they do with him? If they do find him?”

“Found a little out of the way place in the northern territory. Somewhere they can keep him; until I can get there. Off the beaten track, no through roads, heavy bush. Not a single soul around. Figure that’s for the best, yeah? Keep him somewhere no one can hear screaming and pleading for his life.”

“You’re going to handle that yourself?”

“Hopefully. Told my guys that they can rough him up, but I want him very much alive. So he can feel every goddamn thing I do to him. And I know you’re probably thinking this is a throwback to McMann; taking him hostage and torturing his ass. But…”

“You do what you need to do, Tyler. You do whatever you feel he deserves. I’m not going to think any less of you. And Lord knows that I’ve had quite a few fantasies about how brutal I would love you to be if you ever got your hands on him. I’m not going to ask how and I don’t expect you to tell me. You just do what you need to do. To make him suffer and make him pay for what…” Her voice cracks; tears of both rage and insurmountable pain welling in her eyes. “...just make him pay. Promise me you’ll make him pay.”

Sliding his chair away from the table, he’s at her side in only three long strides; dropping to a knee in front of her and taking her trembling hands in his.

“Promise me, Tyler. Promise me you’ll make him pay.”

“I’ll make him pay, Esme. I promise.”

“Everything he did to him. Everything he said. It’s just all coming back. All those horrible, mean, degrading things he called me. All the times he forced me to do disgusting, horrible things to him. All the nasty, gross shit that HE did to ME.”

He feels the rage that immediately begins to take hold; his jaw setting and tightening and the blue of his eyes becoming much darker. Bile settling in the back of his throat; acrid and burning. He hates hearing about it; the horrific things that she’d been subjected to at the hands of someone who was supposed to love her, protect her, and give her a good life. The person he loves more than anything else in the world and would gladly lay his life down for. Not just his wife, but his best friend and the mother of his children and the centre of his universe.

“You don’t have to talk about this,” he says, and tightly squeezes her hands. “Nothing good will come from going there. Nothing…”

“He is an evil, sick, demented person,” she continues, words struggling to make it through the sobs. “He used to make me clean the baseboards and the grout with my toothbrush and then he’d force me to use it afterwards. If he was in a mood and didn’t like what I made for dinner, he’d throw it on the floor and he’d make me get on my hands and knees and force me to eat it. Like I was a dog! And when I tried to fight back, the beatings just got worse and worse and worse and…”

“That’s enough,” he gently orders, and releases his hold on her hands in favour of drawing her into his embrace. An arm wrapped around her waist and a palm resting on the back of her head; pressing a kiss to her temple and her cheek before drawing her face down to his shoulder. “No more. Don’t do this to yourself. Don’t go back to that place.”

One of her hands clutch desperately at the back of his shirt, the other clamping down on the nape of his neck. “How do I ever get over it? How do I ever fully leave all that behind? I thought I was doing okay with it. I thought I was finally putting it all past me. I thought…”

“Sometimes there’s things we don’t really get over. Not completely, anyway. And that was fucking hell; the shit that he put you through. I’m sorry, Me. I am so fucking sorry.”

“Is it weird that sometimes I think about ‘what if’? That I’ll wonder what it would have been like if we’d met some other way? Some other time. Some other place. Before all the bad shit ever happened. Imagine? If we’d met before all of that; if we’d found each other and healed one another sooner?”

“There’s nothing wrong with thinking about that stuff. But babe….listen to me….” He pulls away and cradles her face in his hands; thumbs swiping at the tears that continue to fall “...you can’t live the rest of your life thinking about that. Because if none of the bad ever happened? We wouldn’t have met. Because all the loss and the bullshit put us on the path that led us to each other. And yeah; it was fucking painful and I wanted to put a gun in my mouth and pull the trigger so many times. But in the end, all that crap? All the hard stuff? It brought you into my life. You know that. I KNOW you know that.”

“What if it was all for nothing? You spent YEARS trying to make up for all his mistakes. You didn’t care how messy I was or how messy my life had been before you. You just picked up the pieces and you put me back together. And you never complained ONCE; You just did it.”

“I did it because I love you. Because I couldn’t exactly go and find the guy and kill him with my bare fucking hands. And believe me, I’ve thought about it many times. About how I’d do it. And how I’d make it as slow and painful as possible.”

“All the time and the work you put into fixing me. What if Mark puts me over the edge and I become a big mess again? What if all of a sudden I’m in a million fucking pieces again? What then? It will all be for nothing?”

“No. It won’t. And you know why? Because even if you fall apart a thousand times, each time I’m going to pick those pieces up and I’m going to find a way to make them up. I love you, Esme. More than I ever loved anyone. More than I even thought was possible. And if it DOES happen...you do fall apart...I’m just going to be here to pick you...and all those pieces….back up.”

“I don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve YOU.”

“Baby, you deserve the fucking world. And I’d give it to you if I could. Come here…” Pressing a kiss to her brow, he tangles his fingers in her hair and draws her head down onto his shoulder; other hand moving in slow, comforting circles in the middle of her back. “...everything’s alright. There’s nothing to be scared of. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“It’s not that I’m scared. Not of him getting a hold of me. I know that you’d never let him get that close. You’d do anything to protect me. I’ve never...ever...doubted that. I just hate what it’s doing to me; him being back in my life. I feel like I’m drowning in all this stuff from the past and that there’s no way you’ll be able to pull me out of it. Like it’s going to suck me under and you won’t stand a chance of getting me back.”

“That’s not going to happen. I won’t LET that happen.”

“I don’t know how much more of this I can take,,” she admits. “Worrying all the time about the baby and trying so hard to take care of the other kids and now this crap with Mark and him being so close to us.”

“I know it’s really overwhelming right now, Me. I know it’s a lot of things being heaped on your plate. And believe me, I am taking as much of it off as I can. And this stress with Mark is just making everything else seem even worse. But I got you. I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I just need you to trust me.”

“I do. I DO trust you.”

“You got lots of help with the kids. You got me, you got Stel, Riley’s always willing to drop everything and lend a hand. And you know how much grandpa Koen loves to spend time with them. He’s always ready, willing, and able to step up.”

Managing a laugh, she pulls back and swipes at her tears with the back of her hands. “He was in fine form last night, huh?”

“He was definitely on top of his ‘shit talk Tyler’ game.”

“Everything he says, he says with love. He’s a wreck, you know. When he showed up in Dhaka. He was all laughs and jokes at first and I’m sure that was just to calm his nerves, because when he got to your room? He just lost it. Totally broke down. I’ve never seen him get that emotional since.”

“I guess he’s got a little bit of a soft spot for me. Considering I was an enormous shit head when I first met him and he threatened to beat the attitude out of me. And believe me; he tried a couple times. Tough love, yeah? He’s the guy that turned me into the solider I became. And tried to stop me from destroying myself after everything fell apart. Spent years trying to talk some sense into me. Never stuck.”

“Guess you just weren’t ready for that yet. You just had a bit more of your journey to take. I’m sorry it was as crappy as it was. That you had to go through what you did.”

“Lost my kid and my sobriety. And probably most of my sanity.”

“It’s not fair. That you had to go through so much. Starting right from you were a little boy. Not a single step of your path has been easy.”

“No. I guess it hasn’t. But every one of those steps was worth it. ‘Cause look where I am now. I’m a long way from The Kimberley.”

“Leaps and bounds,” she smiles. “Even in the last five years.”

“It was worth it. It was ALL worth it. And this? Whatever the hell THIS is? With Mark? That’s just another bump in the road we gotta get past. I just need you to trust me. That’s it.”

“I’ve always trusted you, Tyler. Always.”

“Everything’s going to be alright,” he promises, and once more gathers her into a tight, protective embrace. “I didn’t lose you in New York and I’m sure as hell not gonna lose you now. Especially not to him.”

The scrape of the screen door opening upon its track captures his attention, and he glances up in time to see his oldest son step onto the porch. Hair mussed from sleep and sticking up in several different directions; barefoot and clad in only a pair of blue, red, and white plaid pyjama bottoms. And it’s the first time that he’s noticed just how grown up that his namesake is becoming; only ten, but tall and athletically built with well chiselled ab muscles and noticeable definition in his arms and shoulders. All long limbs and torso and tanned skin; brilliant, expressive blue eyes and his once shoulder length dirty blond hair now chopped short. Despite his issues with impulse control, his diagnosis with ADHD, and his volatile temper, he always seems much older and wiser than his actual age; independent and detail and routine oriented and always willing to step up and lend a hand with his younger siblings or with chores and repairs around the house. And it’s bitter sweet; his first son after losing Austin growing up in what seems like the blink of an eye. Proud of him for the person...the man...that he’s becoming but missing the little boy he was; the one who’d be attached to his hip and who explored the world with wide eyed, breathless abandon and wanted nothing more than to exactly like his old man.

“Dad?” Worry tarnishes the ten year old’s voice; eyes darkening and narrowing as he observes the sight in front of him. “What’s going on? What…?”

“Nothing, mate. Your mum and I were just having a chat. She just got a little...worked up.”

“About what?” He finally approaches, a hand on the back of his mother’s chair as he leans in to check on her. “What were you guys talking about?”

“Just some adult stuff. Your mum’s just a little emotional today.”

“Mummy?” TJ lays a palm on her shoulder, gently squeezing and then pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Are you okay? What happened? What..?”

“I’m alright,” Esme assures him, and turns her face into his, pecking his lips. “Daddy and I were just talking and…”

“You don’t look alright. You’re crying. Why are you crying?” A mixture of panic, worry, and the beginnings of anger creep into his voice. And he fixes his father with a steely glare. “What’s wrong with mum? Why is she crying? What were you talking about that would upset her?”

“Just a couple serious things,” Tyler informs him. “ADULT things. Things you don’t need to worry about.”

TJ’s jaw clenches. “What did you do to her?”

“I didn’t do anything. Why would you…?”

“Daddy didn’t do a thing,” Esme assures him. “Like he said we were having a chat and things turned a little serious and I got emotional. That’s it. He didn’t do anything or say anything wrong. I got upset and I started to cry and he was just trying to comfort me. That’s it.”

“Are you sure? ‘Cause if something else happened…”

Turning sideways in her chair, she clasps her son’s face in her hand. “Tyler James. Listen to what I’m saying. Daddy did nothing wrong. I started crying and he got worried and he was trying to calm me down. He didn’t say or do anything. He was trying to help. He wanted to cheer me up. That’s all.”

“Mummy…”

“That’s all,” she insists. “I appreciate you worrying about me, but we’re telling the truth. I just got emotional about some things we were talking about. That’s all. Daddy would never...EVER...do anything to make me cry. Unless it’s happy tears.”

TJ sighs heavily. “If you’re sure…”

“I’m sure. But thank you.,” she presses a kiss to his lips and smooths a hand over his unruly hair. “I’m okay, baby man. There is nothing for you to worry about, okay? And good morning, by the way. Thought for sure you’d sleep in a lot longer; all the running around you did after the littlest yesterday.”

“Dad said we could go surfing. Before everyone else got up. I set my alarm.”

“Well the water looks perfect today. Or as you would say, the waves looking ‘bitchin’.”

Excitement replaces worry and simmering anger. “Dad checked the surf report last night. They said it was going to be perfect conditions. And that it could just be us. I like when it’s just us. It’s a lot more fun. And we sit on our boards and talk. A lot.”

“Then I’ll let you guys get to it. I’m sure you have a lot of boy stuff to talk about.”

Tyler pushes himself to his feet as his wife slips out of her chair; hand on the small of her back as she stands. “You good?”

“I’m good,” she assures him, standing on her tiptoes to return his kiss. “I’ll take the dirty stuff in and I’ll grab some towels and throw them out here for you guys. And maybe I’ll even crash on the couch; until the rest of the hoodlums wake up.”

“If you need anything, you know where to find us.”

“I’ll be fine, Tae. Everything will be fine.”

Nodding in agreement, he offers a small smile and presses his lips to her temple. Watching as she gathers the dirty dishes, mugs, and cutlery and carries them into the house. TJ gallantly holding the door open for her; a broad, beaming smile spreading across his face as she plants a kiss on his cheek.

“IS mum okay?” The ten year old turns to him once Esme is out of ear shot.

“She’s fine, mate. She’s just going through some stuff.”

“Bad stuff or…?”

“Just some stuff. Nothing you need to worry about. You’re mum’s alright. And you know I’d never hurt her, yeah? That I would never...ever...say or do anything to break her heart. Tell me you know that.”

“I do. But you used to. Do stuff like that. I know I was just little then, but…”

“I’m not that guy anymore, TJ. I haven’t been him in a long time. I would never hurt your mother. I love her in ways you can’t even begin to understand. And I would do anything to make her happy and to keep her safe.”

“Is there a reason to? Keep her safe?”

“No,” Tyler lies. “There’s not.”

*****

From the moment he first held Austin in his arms, Tyler had pictured these moments; introducing his son to surfing and forming a tremendous bond over their shared love of the water. Teaching him how to not only handle the waves, but to give himself over to the release and the escape that comes not with conquering them, but being submissive to them; gliding smoothly and confidently yet remembering that nature always has the upper hand and should never be questioned or underestimated. When he had first found out he was going to be a father, he’d often daydream about sharing his passions with his offspring; surfing, fishing, hiking, and camping trips. But military life had been all consuming, as had been his commitment to it; putting fighting the battles of others higher on his list of priorities than his wife and soon to be born child. And having the baby home hadn’t changed a damn thing; signing up for extra tours whenever he got the chance, putting his be all and end all into the army and having nothing left to give his family.

For his fifth birthday, he’d gifted Austin with two things; a custom made surfboard and the promise that he’d change his ways and become the dad that his kiddo needed and deserved. Neither of things ever came to fruition; Austin diagnosed with cancer just three weeks later and the board going unused and Tyler’s promise dying the moment the news had been dropped into their laps. And when Austin had died, so had all of the dreams and the hopes that Tyler had had as father; the loss tremendous and robbing him of both his heart and soul. The grief composed of many things. Not just the loss of his boy, but of all of those expectations, and fantasized moments, and the memories that would have been made during them.

He never dreamed that he’d ever be a father again; his marriage and his military career both disintegrating and finding him throwing himself headlong into mercenary life and a battle with booze and drug addiction. Wracked with so much guilt, regret, and profound grief that he truly believed he deserved his self imposed exile from the rest of humanity. He was a monster and not deserving of any form of a normal life; taking the most dire and dangerous of jobs in hopes one would kill him, drinking and popping pills in hopes of not just numbing the physical pain, but the mental anguish as well.

In the blink of an eye and in the midst of his deepest and darkest moments of suicidal ideation, everything changed. In the form of a tiny, tattooed and pierced brunette with the most beautiful smile and dark eyes he’d ever seen. Since then, every blessing has come with great sacrifice. Ones that he’s willing to pay over, and over, and over again for even a slice of the life that he has now. It’s a normalcy that isn’t normally rewarded to guys like him; a wife and children and a beautiful home in an even more beautiful place. So many bridges burned and toes trampled upon; exuberant coin in your pocket in exchange for scars that litter your body and enemies within all four corners of the world. It’s generally a short existence; catching a bullet in the midst of all the action or a bodyguard or a mercenary -contracted to take you out- catching you by surprise. Most never even attempt any form of domesticity; preferring the company of random women -or men- instead of committing and settling down. The job follows you. Stays with you. Remains embedded in your soul. Accompanied by long lists of evil people you’ve crossed and will forever seek revenge, debts that you can never repay and will forever be held over your head, and addiction and mental health issues. You’re never fully away from it; it will follow you wherever you go, keep you up at night, have you constantly looking over your shoulder or being wary of the smallest of bumps in the night. It’s easier to not get someone else tangled up in the madness; half the time it’s hard just to keep yourself alive, let alone a spouse and children. They’d be the first to pay the price for your misdeeds, and bringing them into that kind of world would be considered not just risky, but selfish as fuck.

Sometimes he still sees himself that way; a weakened, pathetic version of himself that opted to put targets on the backs of others instead of just dealing with his issues and his loneliness in a healthier, SOLO way. But love had found him. Somehow. In the midst of all the darkness and ruin and decay of his life, something...someone... so beautiful and bright had stumbled into his path. She’d effortlessly and easily saw past the hardened and fearless facade he’d created through an endless cycle of self loathing, sorrow, and regret; slowly chipping away at the walls he’d built around the remains of his heart and making him feel alive again. Opening his eyes to a different future and sparking a longing and a desperation and a hunger that he had felt to his very soul. Wanting her...ALL of her...in a way he’d never wanted anyone else. Trusting her in a way he hadn’t since the death of his mother; finding himself both soothed and ignited by the compassion in her voice, the kindness in her eyes, and the gentleness of her hands whenever she touched him.

His heart had been hers long before he’d ever gotten the nerve to tell her so. And he’d been both terrified and filled with hope when he’d even dare to think about a life...a future...with her. He has always felt that his time with her has been far more than he deserves; that kind of existence reserved for those who are morally stronger AND superior. But for some reason, fate had smiled upon him; giving a woman that so plainly wears her heart upon her sleeve and remains stalwartly devoted and faithful. Bearing him seven...eventually eight...children and building a home and a life beyond anything he could have ever imagined.

He’d spent the better part of an hour feeling tremendously grateful and unabashedly proud as he’d watched part of that life so confidently handling the waves below and around him. Ten years old but sometimes so wise and mature beyond his years; misunderstood by so many and not given the credit or the attention that he so rightfully deserves. A fearless, tough kid with an enormous heart; so much love caught up inside him that he’s sometimes unable to express or even cope with it. Exploring the world and the elements with near reckless abandon; always looking for adventure and forever staring challenge straight in the eye. And it’s bittersweet; the act of making the memories with THIS son that his mind had created with for the boy he’d lost years before.

“What do you think it feels like?” TJ asks, as they sit side by side. A hundred yards from shore where the water is calmer; perched upon their boards with their legs dangling over the sides. “To get bit by a shark.”

Tyler glances over; noticing small inklings of his wife inside the ten year old. The way his namesake tilts his head to the side and his eyes narrow as he contemplates a question. The smooth bridge of the nose and the shape of his jaw. But he’s definitely a ‘chip off the old block’; the brilliant blue eyes and the broad shoulders and the long, lanky body, the cheeky smirk and the smile that brightens his entire face. And there’s more. So much more. A strikingly similar personality; dry witted and quick with the sarcasm and the smart ass comments. And the temper; volatile and unpredictable, always seeming as if it’s on a permanent, slow boil.

“I don’t know, mate. But I can guarantee that it does NOT feel good.”

“Mick Fanning...the surfer that mum likes...he got attacked by one. During a competition. A great white. Hit him right in the face with its tail! Can you imagine? I would have been shitting bricks for sure! It would be kind of cool to see one, though. We’ve only ever seen a couple of dorsals in the water. When we’ve been hanging out on the beach. Kinda weird we’ve NEVER come across one.”

“I’d rather not if it’s all the same to you. I’ve spotted a few in my time. Long before you were even a twinkle in your mumma’s eyes. Wasn’t close enough to go one on one with ‘em. Thank Christ.”

“Sometimes I get this really weird feeling in my stomach. When we’re out here. It’s like something is just moving around in there; kicking at your insides and tugging at them and stuff. Like my body is telling me that there’s something underneath me. Maybe even WATCHING me. You ever get something like that? Where you just KNOW something is there?”

“Had that happen a lot. Always been too chicken shit to look down, though.”

“I like that, you know. That you’re not afraid to admit you’re scared of things. Lots of guys are. They act all big and bad and like nothing bothers them, but you know it’s all bullshit. You’ve never been like that. Even since I was little. You’ve always talked about being scared of things and how it’s okay to be afraid of stuff. And that we shouldn’t be embarrassed to get emotional. Cry and stuff. Do you still feel that way?”

“I do. I feel even stronger about it now. Nothing wrong with a guy being vulnerable. Doesn’t make them weak or pathetic or less of a man.”

TJ grins over at him. “Just makes them human.”

“You know, you sound a hell of a lot like your mum sometimes.”

“That’s a good thing, if you ask me. ‘Cause mum’s pretty awesome.”

“Yeah…” Tyler smiles wistfully, then glances towards the shore; his wife up from her nap and getting the littles settled for breakfast on the deck as the older kid’s lend a hand. “...she certainly is.”

TJ’s expression turns serious. “You meant it, right? When you said you didn’t say or do anything to make mum cry.”

“Everything we both told you was the truth; we were talking about some adult stuff and she got emotional. All I was trying to do was comfort her. That’s it. You know how your mum can be; when she’s feeling overwhelmed and hasn’t been sleeping well and she tries to take too much on.”

“She needs to learn how to rely on other people . And ask for help when she needs it.”

“It’s hard for her. Even after all the years she’s been with me. She finds it difficult to ask for help. Guess she’s so used to people letting her down, that she just can’t shake that part of her. We’ll just keep an eye on her and just chip in where we need to and hope for the best, yeah?”

TJ nods, then gives a bashful smile. “I’m sorry, dad. For kinda flipping out on you earlier. But I saw you kneeling in front of mummy and then I could tell she was crying and my brain just immediately went to think you’d done something wrong.”

“We’re a lot like, you and I. In a lot of ways. I tend to react a little too quickly, a little too soon. Old habits die hard. But I would never…EVER...hurt your mum. That is the last thing I want to do. Intentional or not. I love her, mate. In ways you can’t even understand. In ways I can’t even understand sometimes. I just hope that one day you get to feel that way about someone. Or close to it.”

“I just worry about her,” TJ sighs. “I don’t like when she’s upset. Especially when she cries. I hate seeing it; mummy sad. I wish I could find a way so she’d never be sad EVER again. Wouldn’t that be nice? If we could find a way to make sure mummy NEVER got sad again?”

“Yeah, mate. It would. But life isn’t like that. We gotta go through the good AND the bad. Unfortunately.”

“Mum’s been through a lot. I mean, I know you have too. But mum...I don’t know...she’s different. She’s...well...she’s my mum. I know you’re tough and strong and brave and all that. That you can handle things better. But mum puts on a good show for people I think. She lets on that she’s okay and she’s totally fine with taking care of everything one else. But sometimes? Sometimes I don’t think she’s okay at all. Do you ever think that? That she’s just pretending to be alright?”

“I don’t just don’t think. I know she’s doing it. And believe me, I’ve tried to get her out of it. But your mum…”

“And she has the nerve to call US stubborn? She is way worse.”

“She’s got a hard head,” Tyler agrees. “And in some ways, it’s a good thing. She never gave up on me. Even when everyone around her was telling her she should. She just ignored them. Had my back no matter what other people said.”

“It’s ‘cause she loves you. And you’re the first person to ever really love her. Other than her dad and he died when she was young, so ....” TJ rakes a hand through his wet hair. “...sometimes it must feel like it’s just you and mum against the world, huh?”

“I’ve felt that way. A few times. But then all you guys started coming along and our team got even bigger. I like to think we ALL have each other’s backs.”

“Of course we do. We’re family. We’re all in this together. And we’re Rakes. Means we’re tough and we don’t back down. From anyone or anything. We might be scared, but we’re still standing up for what’s right. That’s what you taught us. That even though we might be afraid, we gotta do the right thing. Always. A man isn’t measured by the things he has, but by the people he’s helped.”

Tyler grins. “Where’d you hear that?”

“I read it in a book at school. One of the grade eight kids left on the playground and I was bored and I found it and I just started reading it. I guess I liked that line for some reason. It stuck in my head. Even if there isn't much else up there.”

“Don’t you do that,” Tyler gently scolds. “I don’t want to EVER hear you do that. Talk shit about yourself.”

TJ frowns. “It’s kinda hard when everyone around you is doing it.”

“At school?”

He nods. “I’m the dumb, crazy kid. That’s what everyone thinks. Especially the teachers.”

“They ever say that to you?”

“Not to my face. But I walked by the staff room once and they were talking about that ‘Rake kid’. About how he’ll probably end up in juvenile detention by the time he’s thirteen. And in and out of jail when he’s older. You can’t tell me that it was about Takota or Declan. I might be stupid, but I’m not THAT stupid.”

“You’re not stupid at all. And I don’t want you ever calling yourself that again. You just need some help. Find different ways to learn. Not everyone learns the same way. I was like you in school; couldn’t focus, got ignored when I asked for help, that turned into me goofing off or getting frustrated. Lots of times I put a fist into a locker or a wall. A LOT.”

“Is that why you didn’t go to college? Like mum? Is that why you went into the military?”

“I suppose that’s part of it. Guess I liked the danger and adventure of it too. Going off and fighting bad guys and getting to shoot guns and all of that shit. Never thought about actually having to kill people and what that would feel like.”

“What does it feel like?”

“Not good, mate. Not good at all.”

“Even if it’s bad people? Like that Nathan that hurt you?”

“People like him are exceptions. But for the most part? I don’t like doing it. Not even if it’s in the course of helping someone else. But sometimes…”

“You gotta do what you gotta do,” his son finishes for him. “Sometimes it’s you or them, right?”

“Exactly. And don’t worry about school, alright? I’ll give them a call. Ask for a meeting. Get things sorted and get you the help you need. And deserve.”

“Man…” TJ grins. “...they are going to shit their pants when they hear from you.”

Tyler reaches out to ruffle his namesake’s hair. “Maybe. Hungry?”

“I could eat.”

“Wanna head in? See what mum’s cooking up?”

“I don’t know." The ten year old's nose crinkles in disgust. "Do you think it’ll be edible?”

“Is it ever?”

TJ laughs. “Dad…”

“Whatever you do, do NOT tell her I said that.”

“Don’t worry…” Leaning across his board, the ten year old wraps both arms around one of Tyler’s; squeezing tightly and laying his head against his dad’s shoulder. “...your secret’s safe with me.”

[starlightsearches]

Fences - Modern AU Neighbor! Hux

@aramanna asked: Neighbor!Hux fanfic? Your dog wanders into his yard and you start talking after clearing up the mishap?

Hey friend, thanks for the request! This is kind of a modern version of a post TROS Hux, where he’s a little healthier, I think. The reader is a teacher because I’m a self-indulgent bitch 🥰 Also, I’ve never seen Peter Rabbit, but reading this again I feel like this might just be Thomas McGregor. Let me know if I’m right, I guess 😂😂😂

Warnings: discussion of a family member passing away, mentions of hospice care, maybe language?

When Armitage Hux isn't working, eating, or sleeping, he is in his garden. Which, for him at least, was a lot like work. Even so, he found that it relaxes him; there was something about being outside in the evening light—watering his flowers, picking stray weeds—that made everything clearer. He never had space like this when he lived in the city, but now that he’s away from it all, taking care of this space; it’s made him a better lawyer. Whenever he’s stuck on a case, feeling like he's exhausted every possibility, a few moments with his hands in the soft soil helped him unearth the perfect solution to his problems. 

And sometimes you were there, in your own backyard, of course. He wouldn't watch you—that would be wrong—but he couldn't help but notice you through the little gaps in the chain-link fence. Sometimes he found you in your hammock stretched between two trees at the back of your house, your legs the only part of you visible as you swayed in the breeze. Or occasionally you’d spread out a blanket on warm summer days, soaking in the sun as you read.

Every so often he'd get the wild idea that he might say something to you, before changing his mind, or losing his nerve. He hadn’t said more than a handful of words to you since you moved in next door a few months ago—only visiting your doorstep on the rare occasion that your mail was delivered to the wrong house, or he wanted to borrow a cup of flour, or he needed some milk. Lately he’s played with the idea of approaching you about replacing the fence that runs between your houses—a terribly ugly chain link fixture—but he’s been putting that conversation off for some time now, waiting for the right moment.

Today could be the day, though. It’s a quiet Saturday, the last rays of sunlight stretching over the thick green grass, the air alive with the smell of earth as the water trickles from his hose over his many flowers, the sound only interrupted by the occasional passing car.

Hux listens more closely when a new sound is added—the slam of your back door, and then a series of gleeful yips, but he doesn’t let himself turn around just yet, choosing instead to feign indifference for a few more moments. This is the real reason he’s been putting off the conversation about the fence. Your incredibly enthusiastic new puppy has given him twice the opportunity to spend time with you. If you could call it that. 

He turns now, after what he thinks is an appropriate waiting period, and you catch his eye, offering him a slight wave, which he returns—with the hand not holding the hose, this time. You’re attention pulled away from him for a moment as you watch the little corgi zip around your small yard, but Hux keeps his eyes on you, appreciating the way you light up with laughter at the dog’s antics.

He could talk to you right now, if he wanted. Could strike up a conversation about something inane, like the weather, invite you over for a drink, or maybe dinner sometime. He doesn’t think you’re seeing anyone, after all—hasn’t noticed any overnight guests, hasn’t seen you picked up for any dates. But maybe that’s just wishful thinking.

Your door slams again, pulling him out of his fantasy world, and he turns back to see your yard left empty. Another missed opportunity. Hux doesn’t let himself feel too low about it; there’s always tomorrow.

He wakes early on Sunday morning—always awake before the sun rises—and that suits him just fine, padding through his empty house to the kitchen. Grey light streams in through the windows as the quiet morning sounds fill Hux’s ears: water boiling on the stove, the quiet rustle of cat food as he scoops some more into Millie’s bowl.

Where is Millicent? he wonders to himself—she normally sprints into the room at the first sign of her morning meal, but now he sees no sign of her. Hux wanders into the living room, eyes scanning the floor before he finds her by the sliding-glass door at the back of the house, her eyes watchful, tail swishing back and forth.

“What are you doing, Millie?” he asks, and she turns to look at him with her wide, intelligent eyes, offering him a soft meow in response. He really has to stop doing that, talking to his cat. It’s just another testament to the adverse side-effects of living alone. Millicent stays by the door, turning her eyes back to the glass, and eventually Hux caves, walking to the window, hoping to see something more interesting than a stray bird or squirrel.

Hux gasps as soon as he sees it, yanking open the sliding glass, not bothering to find shoes before he steps out onto the cool, wet grass—still damp from the early morning mist. A soft cry falls from his parted lips while he takes in the damage. His garden, it’s ruined.

    He picks his way through the clods of dirt that litter the grass, trying to get a better look. There’s not a flower that’s been left undisturbed, every single one of them ripped from the dirt, mangled, crushed. Totally unsalvageable.

    The headache that blossoms behind his eyes is all too familiar as it rears its ugly head. He thought he had left it behind with the Order—the unpleasant reminder that there’s so little he has control over, that something always goes wrong. Now it’s back with a vengeance.

    Hux hears the little yip from the far side of the yard and turns to look, hoping to catch the culprit that had destroyed all his hard work. He sees the bushy little tail, wiggling as the intruder paws through the soft, brown earth, and he recognizes it immediately. His suspicions are confirmed when he turns the other way, notices the gap created at the bottom of the fence that separates your property from his. 

    The dog yelps when Hux grabs him and immediately begins to squirm, trying to get free, but Hux holds on tight, stomping back through the grass all the way to your front door, breathing hard. He knocks three times in loud, rapid succession, and he only has to wait for a moment before it opens.

    As soon as Hux sees you, his anger vanishes, and a cacophony of other emotions takes its place. Embarrassment is first—you’re standing there in your pajamas, squinting into the first rays of sunlight peeking up over the houses across the street as you rub some leftover sleep from your eyes, and Hux just now realizes that he is also still in his sleepwear: an old t-shirt and some boxers, a ratty, blue robe thrown over his shoulders.

    “Hello, Armitage,” you greet him with a smile, the sound of his name on your lips bringing a blush to his cheeks. You’ve always called him Armitage, ever since one of his stray bills had found its way into your mailbox, and he’s never had the courage to let you know nobody calls him by his first name. “Did you need someth-”

    You gasp before you can finish, finally noticing the writhing little dog in his hands, and you reach for it immediately, pulling it in close to your chest. “Noodle!” Hux tries to process the exclamation before he realizes you’re still talking to the corgi—that must be his name. You turn your attention back to Hux and he pulls his robe closed over his pajamas, wrapping his arms over his chest. He needs to tell you about the fence, his garden. He can’t let himself get distracted.

    You’re talking again before he gets the chance to formulate a sentence, holding the little dog against your hip like a baby, where he rests without wiggling, occasionally licking at your bare arm, looking up at you with his soft puppy eyes. “Thank you for bringing him back, I didn’t even realize he had gotten out of the yard,” you say, “I didn’t leave the gate open, did I?”     Hux pauses, wondering how he should break the news to you. You still haven’t noticed the dirt covering the little demon’s paws, and you look at him with such innocence that for a moment, he thinks he should just leave and take care of the mess himself. 

    His silence says enough, your face falling when you first realize what it could mean. You look to the dog’s paws, then see the mud caking his fluffy little legs. “Oh no, he didn’t . . . “

    “You should see for yourself.”

    Hux watches as you take in the wreckage that was once his garden. You don’t say anything for a few minutes, just standing, staring. He had been so angry when he had first seen the carnage, but looking at it for a second time, he can’t find any of the leftover rage anywhere inside of him, especially not now, as he’s seeing it through your eyes. You look like you’re about to cry.

“I’ll pay for a new fence,” you say, turning to look at him with such urgent sadness, “and I’ll buy you new flowers. I’ll plant them all myself.” 

“That’s- that’s not necessary,” Hux stutters out a response, looking away from you, back to the destroyed flower patch. He can’t stand to see you like this, so torn up over a silly garden, and with every passing moment he grows more and more sure that you’ll never want to speak to him again after this, if he doesn’t make things right. “It wasn’t your fault.”

You reach out to him, your grip firm where it rests on his arm. “Please,” you say, and you’re not just asking, you’re begging, “please, let me help. I can fix this.”

Hux looks down to the place where your hand rests against the arm of his robe, watches the way your fingers flex against him, and his heart softens, lifting his eyes to meet yours again. He gives you the smallest nod, watching as your face lights up with joy, relief, and for a moment, he finds himself feeling incredibly grateful for your silly, little dog.

                    ___________________________________________

Hux looks back, as he wanders through the aisles of his favorite greenhouse, checking, once again, to make sure that you’re still following him before placing a few marigolds in the cart with a small cough. You had admitted pretty early on in your negotiations that  you didn’t know much about gardening, but you had still insisted on helping, and Hux just couldn’t say no.

    You’re easy to be around, he finds quickly, despite his nerves. He had been afraid that the rest of his day would be filled with awkward silences and stilted conversation, but words flow like water between you. You had spent the drive here telling him stories about your students, about what life was like before you moved, about the family and friends you left behind, and how much you missed them.

    “Why’d you leave?” he asks absentmindedly, searching through the pansies for the healthiest of the bunch, his eyes searching for you again when you don’t immediately respond.

    “My grandmother,” you begin, suddenly melancholy again, “I used to live with her every summer here. She left her house to me when she passed. I don’t know if you remember her.” 

    Hux thought back, easily conjuring the image of his old neighbor in his mind. She was a sweet lady who dropped off cookies to his porch when he first arrived at his new home, or occasionally asked him for help hanging a painting, carrying in her groceries. She had been the one who had found Millicent, when she was still a stray. He still remembers how sheepish she had looked, asking if he would take care of the little kitten while she found it a new home. I’d look after her myself, she had said, standing on his doorstep with the little orange bundle in her arms, but I’m not as young as I used to be. 

    “I remember her,” he says, and you smile again, “ but I didn’t know her that well.”

    “She liked you-” you push the cart forward a little, nudging him with your shoulder as you pass, and the contact leaves him struggling for air, “I called her a lot, when she first started to get sick. She always talked about your flowers,” your voice grows thick, and you clear your throat, “she insisted that they put her hospice bed by the big window in the kitchen, so she could still see them whenever she wanted.” 

    You keep walking, steps a little more hurried now, maybe so he won’t see you tear up. Hux follows closely behind, still trying to process everything he had just learned. He could make sense of your reaction to the flowerbed fiasco now, why you had looked so distraught. 

    “She mentioned you,” Hux says, walking quickly to catch up with you, “now that I think about it. She’d tell me I’d have to stay for dinner some night, so I could meet her favorite grandchild.” 

    You laugh, your eyes lighting up in a way that makes his heart drop to his stomach. “That sounds like her; she was always quite the matchmaker,” you respond, before your eyes grow wide with embarrassment, and you realize what you’ve just said. Hux can feel his cheeks grow warm as well, and neither of you breathe, staring at each other in the middle of the aisle. He can scarcely let himself believe it, but it’s impossible to deny, the way you glance down at his lips, your own parting in response. Hux leans in, just slightly, just enough to feel the heat of your skin. He’s not sure if it’s your perfume or the air of the greenhouse, but everything smells like flowers, and desire, a heady scent that goes straight to his head as he watches you close the gap between his face and yours, your eyes still focused on his mouth, your breathing hard.

    There’s a slight cough, and then a giggle, and you both turn at the same time, looking to the end of the aisle. Hux can feel his blush grow deeper when he sees the intruders, a group of girls—high school age, he thinks—watching you with wide eyes and mischievous grins.

    “Sorry,” one of them says, and the other two break into fits of laughter again, “we were just trying to get through.” You move the cart out of the way good-naturedly as they move past, barely able to contain their laughter as they glide by.

    You look at Hux again, but the moment is lost, to his dismay. You clear your throat, looking back at him with your bottom lip caught between your teeth. “Is there anything else that we need?” you ask, and he scans the cart in front of you, absolutely overflowing with flowers.

    “I think that’s it,” he says, turning back to you. “Let’s go.” 

                   ___________________________________________

    Golden rays of sunlight pour in through every window in Hux’s kitchen, the warmth of the day just beginning to fade into a quiet, twilight-kissed evening. You’re resting against his kitchen counter, eyes wandering around the space, but Hux keeps his eyes on you as he pours some water into a glass. You’re glowing, he thinks, and it’s not just the sunset. Your eyes are brighter, skin glistening with sweat before you swipe the back of your arm over your forehead to collect the stray perspiration. A soft breeze blows in through the open windows, a breeze that smells like freshly-planted flowers and the first inklings of nightfall. 

    Hux hands you the glass, and you take it with a smile, drinking deeply. You had both worked through the heat of the day, side by side, planting and watering and cleaning, everything about it natural, easy. He had shown you how to remove the plants from their temporary pots, brush the soil from their roots—watched as you created small indentations in the new dirt, the gentle work of your hands, and he thought back to the greenhouse, and the smell of flowers and your skin. 

    You finish draining the glass, wiping away a stray droplet of water that travels down your neck before you catch it with your fingers. He moves in closer. He doesn’t want to lose this moment. 

    There’s a stray smudge of dirt on your cheek, and he brushes it away with the pad of his thumb, pulling his attention to you.

    “Thank you, for this,” you whisper, and you smile at his confusion, “for letting me help. I would have felt really guilty if you had to do that all alone.”

    “Don’t mention it,” Hux is thrumming, his heart a live-wire. Just being this close to you has filled him with fire—twin sunsets, one inside his chest and the other flooding through the windows. 

    “I’ll get the fence repaired, as well,” you set your glass down on the counter behind you before lifting yourself onto its surface, sitting with your legs dangling, leaning forward so you can look him directly in the eyes. “Or we can get it replaced, if you’d rather-”

    It’s more than he can bear, this small talk, more than he can take to be so close to you and be forced to think of you being so far away, to have you anywhere but with him, in his kitchen, his garden, his bedroom. He kisses you before you can finish your thought, before he can think about being alone again while you’re on the other side of the fence—a whole life-time away.

    “I don’t want to talk about fences anymore,” he mumbles against your lips, barely able to hear himself over the sound of your breathing, intoxicated by the feel of you. You pull him closer, wrapping your arms more tightly around his shoulders, and suddenly, fences are the furthest thing from his mind.

[cacoetheswriting]

unrequited love - spencer reid

Warnings: mild cursing, mentions of sexual assault, mentions of murder, usual criminal minds stuff tbh Word Count: 2.6k Requested By: anonymous : “can you write a spencer reid fic? something ansgsty maybe..”. 

--

No one understands why you do certain things even when you know you're never going to get anything back. - Shahul Hussain

QUANTICO, VIRGINA

The smell of freshly brewed coffee was probably your favourite, especially at ungodly hours of the morning. Closing your eyes for a brief moment you could feel a sort of calm and warmth surround you. The aroma slowly awoke your senses. Your lips touched the brim of the white mug in your hand and you took a slow sip.

“Good morning Y/L/N.” Derek Morgan appeared beside you. You looked up at him from your mug. “I brought you a coffee but I can see you couldn't wait.” He joked holding up a paper cup. “You know me Derek, I’ll take all the caffeine I can get.” You replied grabbing the cup from him. “Especially at four in the morning.” Derek smirked. “Yeah, they have to stop doing that to us.” 

With two coffees in hand, you made your way to the conference room. The rest of the team was already there. You sat at your usual seat, placing the coffees on the table in front of you, and turned your attention to the screen.

“Morning my lovelies.” Penelope began. “I would say good but there is nothing good about it given the case we have been asked to wor-” “Garcia.” Hotch interrupted briefly encouraging her to get to the point. “Right. Yes. No time to waste.” Penelope cleared her throat and fixed her glasses.

“Last night, twenty-five year old Millie Moore didn't return home after her shift at a bar in Riverside, California. Her body was discovered this morning in a dumpster behind her workplace.”

“The killer wanted her to be found.” JJ stated. There was a brief pause before Penelope continued. 

“The kidnapping and murder was linked to four other cases in the state of California spanning over the last month.” The images filled the screen causing you to clench your fists in disgust. 

The small rather insignificant action was observed by the brunette man sitting across from you. Unnoticed by everyone else at the table, Spencer’s eyes focused on your hands before travelling up to your face. He examined the look spread across your features, trying to figure out what was on your mind. 

“He definitely has a type.” Rossi noticed. “Any signs of sexual assault?” Derek questioned. “Yes, actually all of the victims displayed signs of uhm.” Garcia couldn’t bare to finish her sentence. 

“Given the small cooling off period between each victim, we need to assume the unsub has his next target already picked out.” Hotch stated. “Garcia can finish briefing us on the plane. Wheels up in twenty.”

The group nodded at each other and all got up from their seats - all but you. For some reason you couldn't avert your eyes from the gruesome images that filled the screen. 

“Y/N...” Spencer’s soft whisper brought you back to reality. He stood just a few steps away. You titled your head to look at him noticing a concerned look spread on his face. “They look like me Spence. The victims, they all look like me.” 

Spencer cleared his throat. “Humans in fact, aren’t that genetically diverse. So eventually, the numbers would dictate that certain features resembling yours and another persons will randomly combine.” He paused. 

“But that doesn’t mean they are an exact duplicate of you.” He smiled hoping you would smile back. “You’re right, sorry. It’s just a little weird.” “We’ve had weirder.” Spencer said as you got to your feet. The young doctor grabbed one of the coffees for you as you grabbed the other and followed you out to the pit. 

“You know caffeine increases alertness by blocking a brain chemical called adenosine that makes you feel tired, while at the same time triggering the release of adrenalin that’s known to increase energy.” Spencer stated placing the coffee cup he was holding on your desk. 

“If the amount of caffeine is high enough, these effects are stronger, resulting in caffeine-induced anxiety.” You finished the fact for him, slightly rolling your eyes. “Yes Spence, I know. You tell me this every time I have more than one mug in the morning.” The smart doctor shrugged smiling at you. He grabbed his go-bag from underneath his desk and waited for you. 

The friendship you shared with Spencer was an odd one. The two of you were quite close when you were still at the academy. He helped you study for all your tests and was always one to share tips on how to complete certain tasks. 

A couple of years go by without contact. At that point you were a field agent in New York, which is where you reconnected on a case. The spark was instant although neither of you wanted to admit it. This time Spencer stayed in touch. It was clear then that whatever undiscovered feelings he had for you back when you first met resurfaced - but you weren’t ready to explore whether you felt the same.

Next thing you know you were getting a call from Aaron Hotchner with an offer to join the BAU. Something, you later found out, Spencer had fought to get organised. 

It felt like you played with his heart. To an outsider it probably even looked like that - he fell in love with a girl and landed her a dream job in hopes that she would love him back. 

RIVERSIDE, CALIFORNIA

“What if we’re dealing with a disgruntled boyfriend or husband?” JJ posed the question. “He lost someone in his life that resembled the victims.” “Then why kill them?” Derek questioned. 

The team was gathered around a conference table brainstorming. Spencer was the only one not sitting down, not unusual for Dr. Reid. He was pacing around the bullpen talking on the phone, probably with Penelope. 

Your eyes lingered on the back of his head for a moment through the glass window. Something Derek noticed immediately. “Where’s your head at Y/L/N?” You turned your attention to the rest of the team. “What if JJ is right in a way? But rather than a significant other, what if the unsub was rejected by these women or someone who looks like them?” 

Derek nodded his head in understanding. Your eyes scanned the team waiting for anyone sitting at the table to suggest something else. It was Rossi who opened his mouth next however whatever was on his mind was interrupted by Spencer storming into the room.

“Where’s your mind at pretty boy?” Derek questioned leaning back in his chair. “I spoke with Garcia. All of the victims had social media accounts and tagged-” He approached the map pinned to one of the boards. “- three different spots in this location before they were murdered.” With a red pen, Spencer circled one area on the map. 

“The hunting ground.” Rossi stated and everyone else nodded.

“Let’s split up.” Hotch began. “Reid, go with Y/L/N. Derek and Rossi, and JJ you’re with me. I’ll get Garcia to send us the exact addresses, hopefully one of these places will bring us a step closer to catching the unsub.” 

The team got to their feet and one by one left the conference room, leaving you alone with Spencer. “Ready partner?” He asked smiling at you. “Always.” 

It didn't take long to get there, traffic was unusually quiet for California. Plus whenever you’re with Spencer the conversation flow makes the moments pass by quickly - you never run out of things to talk about.

“Looks closed.” You said getting out of the car, shutting the door behind you. “Strange, it’s the middle of the day.” Spencer noted as he walked around the hood. The two of you glanced at each other before moving forward towards the entrance of the coffee shop.

The door wasn't locked so you made your way inside. A small ‘ding’ from the bell above your heads signalised you have entered the premises. An eerie feeling came over you. 

The lights were switched off. The chairs were placed neatly on the tables. Menus were carefully stacked beside the register, sugar bowls placed in a row along the countertop. A wet floor sign was placed in the middle of the room. You walked around it carefully, that’s when you noticed the strong smell. 

“Is that?” You asked looking at Spencer. “It smells like bleach.” The young doctor stated back, his hand travelled to his gun. Slowly, with one hand on your weapon holster, you made your way around the countertop. That’s when you felt someone grab you from behind. A shriek escaped your mouth getting Spencer’s attention. 

The unknown male held your arms behind your back as he led you back towards the middle of the coffee shop - using you as a human shield. He kicked over the yellow sign and stopped. You could feel his hot breath against your skin, it made you sick. “Let her go.” Spencer stated sternly, pointing his gun.

“I’m going to walk out of here.” The male said. “And you’re going to let me.” You watched Spencer shake his head. “I can’t let you do that.” His response wasn't what the man wanted to hear. Frustrated, he drew your weapon from the holster and placed it to your temple causing the air to catch in your throat.

“How about now?” The man sounded angrier. He could sense your fear, just like you could sense Spencer’s. The young doctor met your gaze briefly before looking back at the man holding you. 

“What’s your name?” Spencer asked. The man scoffed. “I’m not telling you shit!” “Tell me your name and maybe we can sort something out.” Spencer said calmly, his gun still pointing in your direction.

There was a brief moment of heavy silence before the man snarled: “You first.”

“My name is Dr. Spencer Reid and the woman you are now holding at gunpoint, that’s Agent Y/N Y/L/N.” You could feel the man shift, as if he was trying to get a better look at you before he turned his attention to Spencer again. “Theo.” He said simply. 

“Nice to meet you Theo. How old are you Theo?” “What’s that got to do with anything?!” 

Your whole body was shaking at this point. 

“O-okay Theo. Tell me this instead, why did you kill all of those women?” “I didn’t hurt anyone!” Theo snapped. “Only a guilty man would hold a federal agent at gunpoint.” Spencer pointed out. “Shut up!” Theo lowered the gun from your temple and pointed it at Spencer. A lone tear escaped the corner of your eye. 

“Why did you kill them Theo?” Spencer asked again. 

“They deserved it.” Theo answered after a brief moment of silence. “They hurt me!” “How did they hurt you Theo?” The man’s grip around you tightened. “They just hurt me!” He screamed. “Now let me go or I swear, she’s next!” The gun was back at your temple. 

Spencer met your scared gaze. The look in his eye was almost as if to say everything was going to be okay, that he was going to get you out of this. You tried to smile. You even mouthed “It’s okay.” at which Spencer’s jaw locked - he wasn’t going to lose you, not like this. 

“Those women hurt you Theo? I know exactly what that feels like.” Spencer said calmly. “Being hurt by someone you love.” You could feel Theo nod against your head. His grip loosened slightly.  

“Do you know what unrequited love is Theo?” Spencer asked and without waiting for a response continued. “It’s love not reciprocated or returned. It’s when you love someone and they don't love you back, they don't acknowledge your love.” Spencer stated. At this point you were crying. Lone droplets escaped your eyes and traced down your cheeks. 

“That’s how those women made you feel, right? As if you weren’t worthy to love them.” Spencer said. You could feel the hurt in his voice.

“They didn't see me.” Theo said, his voice shaky. “They didn't care!” He exclaimed taking a step forward. In doing so, his grip around you loosened completely and you were able to turn around while grabbing his arm that was holding the gun.

Theo kneed you in the stomach causing you to fall back a little. When you looked up he had the gun pointed at you. 

“If you shoot her, I shoot you.” Spencer said sternly, his weapon once again drawn and pointed at the unsub. Theo scoffed. “She's the one that hurt you, isn't she?” Spencer didn't respond. “I figure I’d be doing you a favour then.” 

The sound of the gun being cocked caused your heart to stop. Yet Spencer was quicker. He fired one shot, hitting Theo in the shoulder. This enabled you to overpower the unsub and disarm him.

“Call for backup.” The young doctor said kneeling down beside you. “Spence-” “Call for backup.” He repeated without looking at you. Without saying another word, that’s exactly what you did. 

BAU Jet

The sound of silence filled the plane. Everyone was exhausted to say the least, and catching up on necessary sleep. Yet every time you closed your eyes you felt uncomfortable. Spencer’s words from the coffeeshop kept ringing in your ears, the broken look on his face overwhelmed your brain. 

Slowly, you got to your feet and walked down the jet. The young doctor was sitting alone at the back of the aircraft, head buried in a book. 

“Hey.” You whispered loud enough to get his attention. His head popped up, his eyes met yours. “Hi.” 

“Mind if I sit down?” You asked politely pointing to the empty seat. “Not at all. Make yourself comfortable.” He placed the book down as you made yourself comfortable. 

“Can’t sleep?” “I could ask you the same thing.” Spencer replied. “Well, having a gun pointed to your head isn’t exactly dreaming material.” You breathed with a soft smile. Spencer nodded his head.

There was a brief moment of silence.

“I wanted to thank you.” You said. “For saving my life.” “I was just doing my job.” Spencer replied. “Right.” You sighed and leaned your head back on the chair, breaking eye contact.

“Y/N-” “I’m sorry Spencer.” You interrupted. Confused, the young doctor asked: “Why are you apologising?” “For hurting you.” Slowly, you tilted your head to once again look at the brown haired man. His head was down, his fingers playing with the hem of his shirt.

“I’m sorry for making you feel as if you weren't worthy.” “I just said that to get the unsub’s attention. I said that so he would let you go.” “We both know that's not true Spencer.” 

The young doctor sighed. “I don't know what you want me to say Y/N.” He whispered while turning his head in your direction. “You don't need to say anything.” 

Spencer lifted his hand and slowly using one finger placed a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he did. A shiver ran down your spine at the touch. 

“I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember.” Spencer said, his hand now holding your face. “However, you made it obvious you don’t feel that way about me so I’ve done my best to just be your friend.” He sighed. “Y/N it’s getting really hard to just be your friend.”

He let his hand fall before shifting his body weight away from you. He leaned his head against the aircraft and looked out the window. 

Tears formed in your eyes. “Spence.” You whispered but he didn't respond. Instead, the young doctor closed his eyes.

You knew better than to keep pushing. With your fingers, you wiped the tears from your face and made yourself comfortable before also closing your eyes. 

Hoping you’d drift asleep quickly your mind wondered. Tomorrow, you would talk to him again tomorrow and everything would be just fine. Right?

Never pretend to a love which you do not actually feel, for love is not ours to command. - Alan Watts

--

masterlist

[dontworrysunflower]

Señorita | Shawn Mendes

(Not my gif)

A/N: I had to, like... I don’t care how much I don’t like Camila, I can’t not. THE SONG IS A FUCKING BOP. Also please, send in some requests, I have promptlists (none of which I own) in my masterlist!

Warnings: not so subtle hints to the video, badboy!shawn, eludes to smut but not really

Enjoy! Masterlist in my bio

•••

“Your little boy toy is here.” Milly, the only friend you’ve made since you moved here six months ago, teased, turning her back to the counter and smirking at you, one hand on her hip.

You roll your eyes as you finished tying your hair up. Grabbing a waist apron from the metal table and tying it around yourself, you said “We’re just friends.” Milly hums before she turns back to serving the customers and you turn around to grab three plates that sat on the little open space looking into the kitchen.

Milly had told you months ago to not mess with him, but of course, you didn’t listen. You just like to keep him on his feet that’s all. Haven’t done anything, barely even spoken to him, it’s just fun seeing the ‘bad boy’ of the town so enthralled by a girl. An entertainment, of sorts.

You walked around the counter, smiling kindly at some customers that sat on the high stools. The short dress started riding up your thighs as you walked to a booth, your eyes flickering to his. He’s leaning back on the booth, one arm draped over the back of the cushion as his eyes trailed on you. God damn. You stop, placing the food in front of the customers, smiling. You wipe your hands on your apron, taking a deep breath when you look back at him again. Milly stands in front of him, placing down his order, but he scoots on the booth, moving to look at you some more, his chocolate curls bouncing along with his movement.

●●●

“Aye! We should totally go clubbing tonight.” Milly exclaimed as she picked at her sandwich while you were on break.

You popped a chip into your mouth, your face contorting in guilt. “Uh, I don’t know Mil, I’m still getting used to this city-”

“And this a great way to do it! Please? You’ll get to meet some of my friends. Maybe you can even invite you little boy-”

“Fine. I’ll go, and I’m not inviting anyone.”

She giggled before she was interrupted by your boss, yelling at the both of you to continue working.

●●●

Of course he had to be there. And of course he had to look so fucking good in suspenders. And of course, he had to be so talented plucking at the guitar strings.

You tried to distract yourself from him. Made small conversation with Milly’s friends, which you hope soon will become yours. Drank as many alcoholic drinks as you could. You even flirted with some other guys, but none of them could ever live up to Shawn. Ever.

About two hours into your rather uneventful night, you lost sight of him. His tall lanky figure seemed to disappear whenever you were enjoying the little eye candy.

But as you stood by the bar, you felt a hot presence behind you. His calloused fingers touched the soft skin of your elbow, your breath catching on your throat when you felt him lean down, his lips grazing your ear before he whispered, “Would you like to dance, señorita?” You turned around, slowly looking up at him, his breath fanning your face.

You suddenly stumbled closer to him, your hands immediately flying to his chest when you turn around to see that Milly had pushed you. Shawn’s hands move down to your waist, holding you close to him as he lead you to the makeshift dance floor by the sand.

Your fingers grazed the soft hairs on his muscular arms, your nails digging into the soft ridges of his biceps as you absentmindedly trace his tattoos, moving your hands up to place behind his neck, your fingers getting tangled in his curls.

In a matter of seconds, he grabbed your hands to pull away from you then spin you around and pull you close, swaying to the music.

Then this is suddenly to much for you, just how perfect this seems to be and just him and you can only think of one thing to do.

Run away.

•••

You tried to forget about it. You really did. The way his hands kneeded the skin of your waist. The way he moved you across the dance floor felt so effortless. Because he’s done it with a bunch of other chicks.

And that thought really helped.

It also helped that he never stopped by the diner, you were able to work without the beautiful distraction.

It was a long day. No one appeared to be concentrated, bitchy customers, some of your coworkers drropped a couple plates, everyone was frustrated. “Go on.” Milly smiled at you in the dimly lit diner. She knew how’d you’d been feeling lately, and she offered to stay later to count profit. You thanked her profusely before making your way out the back door.

“Hey wait!” His soothing voice startled you to a stop. You turned around as he looked at you with a look you could only describe as lost and distressed. He quickly stood up and scrambled to stand in your way before you go any further. He just stared down at you for a moment, nothing said. Just his eyes trailing around your face as you gave him a slight smirk. His hand found your wrist as he smiled sweetly at you. “Come with me?” He asked with a voice just full of seduction and need, but you knew better.

“Nice try.” You muttered as you moved to the side to step away from him, but he gets in your way again. “Shawn seriously, just leave me alone-”

“But I can’t (y/n)! I don’t know what your doing to me but I like it.” He leans down to plant his forehead on mine, his hazel eyes boring into mine, his grip on my wrist loosening and moves down to your waist, his fingers moving in circles over your clothes. His touch just as intoxicating as the first time.

“Uh, I kind of want to change into some other clothes.” You shift your weight from leg to the other, the few buttons he has undone on his loose white shirt call to you to just unbutton the rest.

“We can stop by your house, señorita.”

You weren’t going to say no.

•••

You looked at yourself in the mirror, you mind going through all of the excuses you could give him to not go.

But he was already here, waiting for you patiently just outside the bathroom door because he wants you.

You tightly wrapped the cardigan around yourself to brace yourself from his eyes as you left the bathroom.

But he just smiled and held his hand out for you to take. “Ready, señorita?”

He pulled you out of your home and got on his bike, looking back at you as you gingerly scoot in behind him, your arms engulfing his leather-clad torso.

•••

Your eyes were locked with his as you stood against the wall, your hands balling the knitted cardigan because you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

You found enough confidence to waltz over to him as he pulled his tank top over his head before he stood, towering over you. You stared up at him for what felt like hours before you moved up on you toes to link your fingers together behind his neck, your lips crashing with him in a feverish kiss.

His hands were secured around your waist in an instant, bringing impossibly closer to his chest before he pull you off your feet and spun you around, your back falling onto the bed, his arms on either side of you. You gasped as your hair sprawled across the bed, and Shawn took that advantage to slip his tounge into your mouth, swallowing the moans that came out of you.

His slow kisses trailed down your neck, his hands moving under your shirt and quickly pulling it off, throwing it somewhere else in the small hotel room.

•••

You didn’t want to admit it, but you loved watching him sleep. The even breath that passed his pink lips you got to kiss throughout the night. His chocolate curls a disheveled mess atop his head, the memory of your fingers in his hair as he did this and that with his tounge. His beautiful god like body a piece of art that you got to admire as the moonlight cascaded into the room.

You untangled his arms from your body, roaming around the room to locate your clothes. You were pulling on your shirt when you heard him shuffling and groaning behind you. You turned back around to face him, and you were met with a sleepy looking Shawn, one arm behind his head as he smirked at you. “G’morning, señorita.” His groggy voice spoke out in the silence as he watched you move around the bed. You gripped the yellow curtains and pushed them back, the sunlight cascading over toned torso as he sat up on the edge of the bed.

“Morning.” You mumbled, the natural light a beautiful aura around you as you smirked at him.

“C’mere.” He held his hand out to you and instead of taking it, you just stood in front of him, his other hand going to your thigh to pull your leg around his torso.

•••

It happened a couple more times. The sneaking away. The late night motorcycle rides. The sex. The sweet nickname he had given you rolled off his tongue like a praise whenever you were together. Then he’d sneak away, saying it was just business. You didn’t want to be that kind of girl. You knew he wouldn’t give up his lifestyle for you if you asked, not that you ever would. You weren’t anything to him and he wasn’t anything to you, it was just for fun, you kept telling yourself.

But the fun was soon over when you stopped hearing from him. Never came by the diner or your house. You were left on voicemail every time you called.

You really tried to pretend you were fine. But it was even hard to believe yourself. You knew you should’ve never gotten involved with him, in any way. But it was so damn hard. Just the way he looked to the way he made you feel, was enough to keep you trailing behind him, and you knew it was the same thing for him.

But it wasn’t enough.

“Hey.” Milly’s voice brought you back to reality, a sad smile playing on her lips as she sat next to you on the bench. “You okay?” She rested her hand on your thigh.

You gave her a tight lipped smile, noding out into the distance. “You were right.”

She sighs and leans back on the bench. “Yeah but, you could really tell you meant something to him. I was wrong about how he would treat you. I’m sorry it had to go like this (y/n).”

You two sat in silence before she got up and head back into the diner.

There were so many thoughts going through your head. What did I do wrong? Was I not enough? Was I not ‘bad’ enough? Not pretty? Didn’t make him cum enough? (Even though you certainly did.)

You could feel the tears flooding in your eyes because whatever you and Shawn had meant so much more to you than what you’d admit.

You pushed the thoughts to the back of your mind, pulling down you dress before walking back inside.

You weren’t his señorita anymore, even though you loved it.

And loved him. 

[bylerly]

alright everyone. after my rush of emotions after that season, i’ve had time to decompress, and make an actually cohesive list of my thoughts about the season. as you could probably guess - MAJOR SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT!

first, let’s get the (much) shorter list out of the way. here’s what I enjoyed:

the acting. i want to mention how good millie was, because she was fantastic, but i almost feel like i shouldn’t, bc el took SO MUCH screen and plot time, that millie was given every opportunity to be good. she doesn’t really need any more special mention. otherwise - noah (with the little he was given) and sadie were particularly great. so were winona & david, but that goes without saying.

the elmax friendship. these two deserved it. and max bringing el out of her shell, showing her how to become her own person.... incredible. 10/10 i love them both

alexei. feels weird saying this, but he was probably the new addition I enjoyed watching the most. it would have been kind of cool to see him live past season 3.

an lgbt+ confirmed character. this one is a little.... tricky for me. as happy as I am that there is a queer woman written into the show... I feel like it’s a cop out to not have to confirm will’s sexuality. robin confirms her sexuality in less than a season, but after three with will, we still only get ~subtext~? still, this is a positive portion, so.... I guess that was something I was happy with

el moving in with the byers at the end. finally. this is one of the only things that is keeping me excited for s4. i guess i can only hope for there to FINALLY be some good willel interactions next season, but if this season has taught me anything, it’s not to get my hopes too high :-)

jancy ending s3 on a good note. parts of their storyline were fantastic, some were disappointing. but i really dug their dynamic, and the realistic struggle between the two of them, with nancy not really understanding jonathan’s class struggles, and jonathan not grasping the weight of the misogyny being thrown at nancy. their final moments at the empty byers house at the end were especially lovely.

el no longer being OP, and not being undefeatable. i love el. i really, genuinely do. i love her character, i love her traits, i lover her power. but the duffers were relying too heavily on her to constantly save the day with her powers, and it was happening too often. one of the faults of s2 was the constant thought of how easily el could’ve fought off all these threats if she was just there. i think it’s incredibly interesting to not only see her get completely worn out, but totally lose her powers. like mike said, i’m sure they’ll come back, but i want so badly for el to not just be defined by her powers.

a platonic m/f friendship. yes, one of them is confirmed queer, and they would’ve probably been romantically linked if she was straight. but i’ll take what i can get when it comes to this. platonic opposite sex relationships?? r i s e

now for the meat of my thoughts ~ what I didn’t like:

mike’s characterization. the writers completely made him into a dick this season. i get it, he’s a teenager, so he’s going to be an asshole sometimes. hell, in a recent post, I defended that, saying it’s good writing. but I underestimated just how awful he’d be, completely blowing off his friends for any chance for a second alone with el. I understand that he loves his girlfriend of course, but s1-2 mike loved his friends just as much. he was so utterly unlikable this season, that it seemed like he was a different character.

lucas as comic relief. this is so lazy, and i’m so angry for both the character and caleb, both of whom deserve so much better. he really had nothing to do if it wasn’t related to max, and the writers further reduced him down to a one-dimensional, kind of dumb, mediocre boyfriend, and that is not the highly intelligent, brave, kind lucas that i know and love.

will’s sidelining. god, this made absolutely no sense. noah fucking shined last season. he stole pretty much the entire thing. every critic, even those who disliked the season, had nothing but good things to say about his performance. furthermore, will has so much potential in so many different directions in so many aspects of his character. however, once he revealed to his friends that he was feeling the upside down/MF’s presence... they may as well have written out his character. he was sidelined almost to the point of background character. they gave him very little to do emotionally after that castle byers scene, and even fewer lines.

total lack of willel scenes. phew, if this wasn’t a bummer. will spoke a single line to el, and maybe one or two throwaway lines about her. if there is one thing most of the fans can agree on, it’s that will and el have the biggest connection to the upside down, the biggest unspoken connection, the most parallels, and the most intriguing potential relationship... and they really just said “fuck it” and didn’t have them interact at all. (that’s poor writing folks!) they better make up for this now that they’re living together.

amount of eleven scenes. i love her so dearly. i really do. and i’m so happy she grew into her own, not through mike or hopper. but the amount of el plot and screen time this season was actually difficult to watch. every other scene centered around her. so many characters and so much of the story went undeveloped, while she got way, way more than was necessary. additionally, take any kid’s plot (other than dustin), and guaranteed, it revolved around el. people were starting to catch on that the show was favoring her character more than even most shows’ mains.... and this season took it to a level i actual didn’t think it would.

the comedy. it was so awkwardly written. so much of it threw off the pace of the show. it seemed forced, and just... not very stranger things-esque, where the comedy was typically well-written and blended into dialogue.

the baddies. this was a huge letdown, too. i understand that the monster was large, but it was far less menacing to me than, say, the MF’s physical form. it had gore points, sure. it felt incredibly boring and predictable. in the same vein, i thought the ‘zombie’ style storyline of heather & co. would be deeper than that, but that was literally all it was. again... not interesting to me. billy was a rehash as well. the russians definitely had potential, but even that plot wound up being incredibly one-dimensional.

billy’s screentime. this was one of the things i was absolutely furious about. he got more screentime than the party (minus el) combined. they wanted for us so badly to empathize with him, to humanize him... i’m sorry, but you wrote a character that almost killed a boy for being black, that abuses his sister, and is a misogynistic asshole. abuse doesn’t excuse that, and it’s insulting to abuse survivors to say that billy inevitably became this way because of his dad, and that he deserves our uwus for it... and actually got el’s. he took screen time away from characters who desperately needed it, and that’s something i will never look at the duffers the same way for.

the scoops troop. I wanted to love erica... but i feel so indifferent to her. she was way too much this season. and robin. again, i love that she’s confirmed queer. and i dug her character more. but even then... i don’t know. i would have rather never had her introduced, and allowed established characters to have been better developed. and as a whole, the whole storyline of the troop was just what I feared: underwhelming and awkwardly placed.

high steve & robin. won’t elaborate on this too much, bc there’s not much to elaborate on. it just felt so wildly out of place and unnecessary.

that dustin/suzie number. what the hell was that? what could have been a 20 second joke was stretched out WAY too long and was bizarrely placed. just because you have an actor from broadway, doesn’t mean he needs to sing. and even if he does sing... you couldn’t have found a better time or situation? i literally was just staring at my screen in disbelief as that whole thing happened. entirely unneeded.

the amount of flashbacks. i understand most casual viewers wouldn’t remember certain things because of how long it’s been. but they literally put a recap at the beginning of the season. that’s what it’s for. and there were also plenty from like.... the episode before??? the amount they included took away so much time, that it almost just seemed like they didn’t have enough footage, and they had to fill their time stamp somehow. at some point, it just becomes insulting to the audience’s intelligence.

the overall tone. this season did not feel like stranger things in the slightest. off the top of my head, the castle byers scene and the byeler scene in mike’s garage were the exceptions. the first few episodes did have some moments. but overall... it kind of felt like some weird, high budget commercial or something. the charm, distinct aesthetic, and nuance of seasons 1 and 2 was non-existent.

the post-credit scene. there was some last-minute hype up in the reviews for this. was that supposed to be shocking in some way? i suppose this is more the fault of the reviewers who hyped it, but... really? a demodog? we’ve seen that before... i guess more the point was to show that the russians officially have some kind of technology for this. but still, an underwhelming reveal. more intriguing to me, was if hopper was the american in the cell he mentioned at the start of it. or maybe brenner?

the neutral:

that ending. on one hand, it was incredibly predictable. they literally placed an obvious shot of it in the trailer (easy to deduce that the byers had moved out, and that it was fall, so it was an epilogue scene). i was convinced that there would be a twist element they weren’t showing us, but nope. on the other hand, i thought some things were done beautifully (which wasn’t exactly a trend this season). as i mentioned, i loved the jancy moments. i really did like the hopper voiceover, although it was a little trope-y and heavy-handed... i still got a little emo, ngl. those goodbye hugs were somethin’. and, as i said before... el! moving in! with the byers! gimme

so uh... that’s it, i guess. no one really asked, but i needed to get my thoughts out. what did you guys think of the season?

[sebbymylove16]

The Knitting Class

A/N: Hey guys! Long time no see! I hope you enjoy this one! I am thinking of getting rid of my taglist? I’m not going to put it on this fic here. If I get some objections I will keep doing it! Thanks for reading!

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 1,711

Warnings: none, just fluff!

Summary: Bucky goes with (Y/N) to her knitting class and slowly comes out of his shell to make his feelings for her known.

You entered the kitchen in the tower and set your bag down on the counter before grabbing an apple out of the fruit basket. You bit into it, letting it hang from your teeth as you poured milk into a glass and mumbled a greeting. Sam and Steve wished you a good morning, and Bucky nodded your way.

“Where are you off to this morning?” Steve asked you.

“I have that knitting class I signed up for at the new store downstairs,” you said.

Knitter’s Haven had recently opened in the building next to the Tower and you had been spending a lot of time there, buying new needles and yarn, even taking classes. It was basically you and a bunch of elderly ladies, but they had grown on you and you really enjoyed spending time there.

You gulped down your drink and rinsed the glass in the sink. “Any of you wanna join me?” you asked.

“Sorry, (Y/N), but I have a lot of important plans today,” Sam said, plopping down into the leather chair in the shared living room and propping his feet on the ottoman.

“Oh, like what?” you said, taking another large bite out of your apple and pulling your bag on your shoulder.

“Watching my favorite programs on TV, napping, eating your leftovers from last night-”

“Don’t you dare,” you said to Sam, pointing your knitting needles at him in a threat. You turned to Steve who was laughing at you. “Keep an eye on him today,” you said to him. He nodded with a grin.

“I’ll go with you.”

You spun around to see Bucky already putting on his jacket.

“You wanna go knit?” Sam asked, his head leaning over the back of the chair.

Bucky shrugged. “Why not?” he said.

“Why not indeed!” you said, excited to have some company. “Let’s go, Buck,” you said, linking your arm through his. You felt him tense, but stood your ground, pulling him out of the kitchen.

“Even if you bring him, it will still be you and all the elderly!” Sam yelled.

“Funny, Sam!” you yelled back.

The walk down to the store was quick but it did give you time to wonder what Bucky was thinking. He hardly ever went anywhere without Steve. He was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, but you knew he wasn’t quite comfortable with anyone else yet. You hoped you could join that short list of people soon.

When you reached the shop, you unlinked your arms and Bucky opened the door for you. The ladies were already set up, their chairs in a circle, a gigantic basket of different types and colors of yarn sitting in the middle.

“I’m sorry we’re late, Millie, can we still join?” you asked.

“You’re not late, hun! We would never start without you!” Millie said.

You smiled and unzipped your coat. Behind you, Bucky pulled it off your shoulders and set it on the back of the chair he had pulled out for you. You thanked him and sat, patting the chair next to yours, inviting him to join the circle.

“Who’s the hunk, (Y/N)?” one of the ladies, Fran, asked you.

“This is Bucky,” you laughed. You looked over to him and saw him grin at Fran. You would think him totally confident, except for him wringing his hands in his lap.

“He’s another one of those Avengers,” Fran whispered to another lady.

“You’re not supposed to know that,” you whispered back.

“Oh, come on, (Y/N)! We’re in the know” Fran winked.

“We are on the news all the time,” Bucky leaned over to you to say.

You turned and smiled at him when he winked at you. It reminded you of the stories Steve had told you of his time before the serum.

“See?” Fran sang. “Now, let’s knit!”

Today’s class was about learning how to knit gloves. A few tape measures were slowly passed around so each student could measure the widest parts of their hands. When it came to you, Bucky reached out his hand. “May I?” he asked.

“I can do it,” you said, letting him take the tape from you.

“I know you can,” he said, swiftly wrapping the thin band around your palm. “But sometimes, it’s nice to have help.” He rested your hand on his, and with his fingers pulled the band taught. You could see scars and dryness on his rough hands, but he was gentle with you. Before you could think too much about his meaning, he said, “Your hands are tiny!”

“They are not!” you said, softly hitting his firm shoulder.

“They’re childlike!” he said, letting the band loose and passing it to the next person.

“Wait!” you grabbed the tape out of his hand. “Everyone needs to be measured,” you said with a sarcastic twinkle in your eye. You wrapped the tape around his hand and scoffed. “I don’t even think they make gloves this big,” you said, passing the measuring tape to the next person.

“Well, maybe if I’m lucky someone here will make me a pair,” he said.

“I don’t think so, that’s a lot of work. Much more work than making gloves for someone with normal sized hands,” you said holding your hand up.

Bucky smirked at you as his head shook from side to side.

“Time to pick your yarn so we can cast on!” Millie said.

“We all know what color (Y/N) is going to pick,” Fran said, holding her bright yellow yarn in her hands.

“Yes, I know, I’m predictable,” you said like it was the worst thing in the world to be. You grabbed a ball of yarn that was a beautiful, deep blue in color and very soft to the touch.

You followed the lesson and had been knitting for a while when Bucky stirred next to you. He rose from his chair and leaned down to you, saying “I’ll be right back.”

You nodded and kept knitting while Bucky explored the small store behind you. Shortly he landed next to you in his chair.

“Are you bored?” you asked. “Because I think I have the gist of this. We can go if you’re bored.”

“No, not at all,” he said. He pulled a bag from the other side of his chair and opened it to show you that it was full of blue yarn, of all different textures and shades. “Just did some shopping. Don’t want you to run out any time soon.”

You chuckled and shook your head in amazement.

“They also sell coffee, do you want a cup? I know how you like it,” he assured you.

You nodded and watched him walkaway out of the corner of your eye.

“He’s crazy about you!” Fran whispered.

“No, he’s not. He’s just very nice,” you said, feeling your stomach flip with excitement.

“I have been on this earth 87 years, I know what flirting is,” she said, straightening and getting back to her knitting.

You focused on your gloves and shook your head at the thought.

By the time Bucky returned from the coffee counter you had finished the pair of gloves. “Done!” you said. You stood up and put your coat on, saying goodbye to the ladies in the circle and assuring them you had already signed up for next week’s class.

You took your coffee from Bucky and thanked him as you walked through the store to the exit.

“Well, lemme see ‘em, doll,” he said.

You grinned at the old fashioned pet name and pulled the gloves out of your bag.

“Wow, these are nice,” he said, turning them in his hands.

“You think so?” you asked.

“Yeah, they’re great. Good color choice,” he chuckled.

“Glad you like them. ‘Cause they’re yours.”

He raised his eyebrows at you.

“Millie warned me it would be really difficult to make gloves of that size, but I’m a superb knitter, so she said I should go for it,” you said.

“Well, they’re great, (Y/N), thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you said. “And thank you for the yarn. And the coffee. And for coming with me today.”

“You’re welcome, you’re welcome, and it was my pleasure,” he said.

When you had made your way up tower, you stopped at the kitchen to grab a snack. Sam was still in the position you left him in.

“How was knitting class?” he asked.

“It was great, thank you very much,” you said, hanging your jacket on the chair next to you. Bucky did the same.

“Nice gloves,” Steve said.

“Thanks. (Y/N) made them for me today,” Bucky said, holding them up for him to see.

“I’ve never seen you wear anything but black,” Sam said.

“Now, you will see me wearing a lot of black with some blue gloves,” he said without missing a beat.

You grabbed the bag of yarn from the table and headed off to your room. “Thanks again, Buck,” you said.

He winked at you just before you disappeared down the hall.

**

Later that night, after you had been in the kitchen making dinner you returned to your room to see a gift on your bed. Soft, tiny, blue gloves were tied together with a bow and a note saying I borrowed some yarn.

“How did he even get in here?” you said to yourself.

“You left the door open!” You hear Bucky yell from somewhere out in the hall.

“And since when do you know how to knit?” you asked.

“Since today! I pay attention!” Then he appeared in your doorway. “Now we match,” he said, one shoulder glued to the wooden frame.

“Thank you,” you said.

He pushed off the doorway and walked over to you, taking your hands in his. He ran his thumb over the back of your palm before his eyes met yours. You noticed they were your favorite color. “You’re very welcome,” he said.

After a moment, he said goodnight with a grin and slowly let go of your hands one after the other. You watched him until he disappeared from the doorway, then closed your eyes and finally let out a breath you had been holding.

Then you heard him again from down the hall, “When’s next class? I promised Fran I’d come.”

[sussex-nature-lover]

Friday 7 January 2022

At Home

It’s been so dark and wet that we haven’t ventured out - here’s an example from Instagram, it’s Bodiam Castle near us and it speaks for itself.

No hibernating for MsNWtE though, well, you just can’t when you have a four legged friend to walk. Never-the-less such application brings its own rewards and not least Doctor P’s gratitude.

Someone in the neighbourhood was busy spreading seasonal joy: the Yarn Bombers had been out in force

Doctor Pepper would love to get outside again - although the boggy winter lawn seems to be slowly making its way indoors looking at the impact she’s had on that new doormat.

I think she’s sorry, but what’s a girl with muddy paws to do?

Back at the Naturewatch homestead I’ve been sky watching. We opened the curtains one morning to this strange cloud. It kind of looked like a tornado and as it progressed across the sky I could make it in to a long feather.

The sky over the woods has been filled by seagulls this week, this shot only captured a tiny fraction of how many are here.

I say seagulls as that’s what nearly everyone refers to them as - in this instance, as in my List of Birds Here In 2021, these were common gulls. The BTO tells me that 

In Britain, we have six species of commonly occurring breeding gulls – the Herring Gull, the Lesser Black-backed Gull, the Great Black-backed Gull, the Black-headed Gull, the Common Gull and the Kittiwake.

I got myself in a fix in the alphabetical line up and so you’ll see on my list that common gull is in the S section. Whoops! but you know what I mean.

Back down on the ground, Pritchard is here every day. He still wanders across the three gardens though.

Here he is taking the weight of his feet and admiring himself reflected in next door’s porch window and from next door but one, K sent this photo of him displaying beautifully on their shed roof.

I have to say, his tail feathers are coming along so well now and even on the dullest and greyest day, the sheen and the vibrancy are quite stunning. I think he looks like a New Year firework there.

The colourful male pheasants haven’t been back lately, but this single female certainly knows where the seed lives.

She’s quite a small girl, but also very lovely in that classic, understated way. Currently she’s this year’s MILLY (No Mates) but I’m sure others will soon join her.

What is funny is that for all his size and impressive appearance, Inspector Pritchard seems to be quite afraid of her and on Sunday he was running away from her, taking refuge on the decking until she ventured that way. He tried hiding in the shrubbery too, but in the end took off for a quieter life somewhere else.

It amazes me still how much you can engage with nature without leaving your own four walls. As I type I’m sat looking out and so far have seen loads of house sparrows, dunnock, nuthatch, a great spotted woodpecker on the hanging feeders, coal and marsh, great and blue tits, wood pigeon, blackbird, robins, Pritchard the peacock and also two magpies together. I hope they bring joy. My Crow has also seen the female pheasant. Counting up the birds we saw in the garden in 2021 - and that was actually in the garden either on the ground, the feeders or in our trees, not in the sky above - we made a total of 39. We saw fieldfare and redwing for a few days as well, but as they stayed in the field across the lane, I haven’t counted them. I’ve done a post and documented what was here, see the link at the end if you want a look. With the appearance of Long Tailed Tits at the feeders late on yesterday afternoon the 2022 running total now stands at Ta Daaah...22. I’m very pleased with that.

I think I caught a fleeting glimpse of a wren at the front of the house, which is who we think is over-wintering in the porch. I know wren was building in this box last Spring and every time I thought I might clear it out, something seemed to have moved slightly, so I left it alone and now, you can see that fresh moss has been taken in and there’s some working on the entrance hole, neatening and tightening the weave. The difference in these two photos about four days apart, is very subtle, but noticeable to the naked eye in real life. 

If you scroll down to my last but one post you can see I picked a wren’s nest out of my new book, in fact, there are three different ones in that book, all lovely and such a lot of work for a tiny bird.

It’s actually much easier to tell with the naked eye. Using flash takes something away from the subtle changes, but it’s too dark in the porch not to use the flash.

Someone else has been doing a bit of building in the porch. Crow reckoned there was a bird on the porch floor, but despite it moving too quickly to see clearly, I think it was a little mouse who’s made a home inbetween the lowest row of logs. Every time we pass through the hallway we peep out of the windows ‘PORCH WATCH 2022′ is live folks. I’ll let you know if we reach a positive ID.

Here’s the link to my other page where the list of 2021 birds in the garden can be found CLICK. Just scroll down past the entries about Goldfinches.

[adwdwd]

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[kaitlynabdou]

Tonight was a bad night.

I have been keeping fish for about 14 years now. It all started with a free goldfish that I won at a college orientation event. A bowl became a 10-gallon tank, and then a 29-gallon tank when I did my research and learned about the actual needs of a goldfish. A couple of years later, my goldfish, Hyacinth, died.

I was devastated.

I know, you’re rolling your eyes and saying “It’s just a fish.” But, he wasn’t just a fish. I had spent countless hours researching and caring for this fish. I had done everything I could to make sure his habitat was perfect and that he was healthy, so his death was a blow.

Of course, eventually, I recovered and decided to try my hand at tropical fish keeping. Within a year, I had a beautiful live-planted tropical aquarium running with a beta fish, some schooling fish, and my first pleco (after an algae incident.) He was a bristlenose pleco, only an inch long, and the ugliest thing I had ever seen in my life.

My 29-gallon tank

Bristlenose plecos are smaller than the 2-foot-long common plecos people are familiar with. They only grow to somewhere between 6-8 inches long and eat algae and driftwood. You can see the driftwood in the photo above, though my pleco is hiding in it, as he often did during the day.

source: http://www.pethelpful.com

Male bristlenose plecos live up to their names and grow horrifying-looking bristles on their face as they reach maturity. Females do not grow bristles, however.

Their average life-span is about 12 years, so they can live for quite a while. Though I was not particularly attached to my own pleco at first, after he began to develop his bristles (and I got over how terrifying they looked) I actually really grew to love him the best. He quickly became my favorite fish, and was the only fish in the tank, aside from my beta fish, who was given a name. I named him Davey Jones, and called him Jonesy for short. Even my mother, who hated my fish tank, loved Jonesy and would sneak him treats of cucumber or zucchini when I wasn’t home.

When I moved out of my parents’ house 5 years ago, I upgraded from a 29-gallon tank to a 55-gallon tank. Jonesy came with me, along with a few other fish and all my plants and driftwood. As of today, I have had the same community going (Jonesy being the only original fish) for the past 11 or 12 years.

Tonight, after getting home from a long shitty day, (I spent 4 hours sitting around in a car dealership and left with no car. :|) I went into the living room to feed the fish and found Jonesy dead on the floor of the tank.

Of course, I was upset. My heart broke for my uniquely ugly pet fish whom I’d had for my entire adult life (I bought him when I was twenty! Please don’t do math right now).

After recovering from the initial shock of finding him, and realizing that he likely died of old age and nothing I did, I carefully scooped him up, wrapped his body and disposed of him. I kept my composure. I was sad, but he was an old fish and I took great care of him.

When I went back to the tank to feed the rest of my fish, a thought that has been nagging at the back of my head for about the last year-and-a-half or two years came back. I ought to sell my set up. I had considered it before buying the house–it has been getting hard to keep up with maintenance as my life has gotten more and more hectic, and I have slowly begun to lose my love of fishkeeping.

Adding on top  of that my workload, and the fact that I am hoping to have a baby by this time next year (I know I haven’t written anything about that yet–it’s coming!), I realized it was probably best for the fish and myself if I sold the whole set-up to someone who had the time and the energy needed to take care of a tank this size. The one thing that had been holding me back for the last year was Jonesy and how attached I was to him.

I took to Facebook and posted in a fishkeeping group about my loss and explained that I was considering selling the whole set up for reasons a, b, c and x.

At first, people were kind and offered condolences and advice on selling my set up. Some complimented me on the beauty of my tank, others suggested bringing the last few fish to a fish store and selling off the set up piece-by-piece.

Then, someone commented saying that I was a disgusting person for giving up my aquarium in exchange for a “human brat.” This someone was some rando 20-year-old kid, so I really didn’t care about his opinion and told him so. Then, it escalated. Women with children began to shame me and rub in my face that they had children AND fish tanks. Men commented saying how many kids they had and pointed out that THEY never gave up THEIR fish.

I was annoyed and hurt. I didn’t owe them an explanation. I reported the comments to group admins and tagged admins but after over an hour, none of them had done anything. The comments continued to escalate. A few people defended me, but they got worse and worse. I was called a “shit person” a “whore” and told to kill myself.

Now, as a woman, I get comments like this every day on Facebook. MANY women do. Usually, I report the idiot and move on. Tonight, it hurt though. Tonight, I was grieving for the loss of a beloved pet, and looking for advice, and I was told instead that I would be a shitty mother and that I should just kill myself.

Why do people think it’s okay to say things like that to other people? The anonymity of the internet, even if you are using a Facebook account with your real name and photo, makes people into monsters. No administrator in the group did anything to stop this, and in the end, I deleted the post and left the group like a coward.

Now, I’m exhausted from a bad day, upset over the death of my favorite fish, and feeling hollow inside because I ran away from the onslaught of insults being thrown at me instead of facing them and standing my ground. I feel like a failure, even though logically I know that I am not and I know that what these random people on the internet have to say doesn’t matter.

Still, it hurts. Especially when I am feeling like crap already because my pet died–it hurts. I didn’t deserve to be treated like that. No one does.

It’s one thing to get into a flame-war with someone on Facebook. Many of us are guilty of it–I am guilty of it. But I have never told someone to go kill themselves. I have never stooped to bullying someone for no reason other than the fact that I could, and they could do nothing about it.

Bullying is nothing new–and neither is internet bullying. This month alone, Star Wars star Kelly Marie Tran deleted social media accounts because people were bullying and harassing her so much that she felt she had no other choice. Stranger Things star Millie Bobby Brown deactivated her Twitter after so-called fans made a slew of homophobic memes (during PRIDE MONTH) using her photos. The world is fucked up.

Anyway, I’m sorry that this post is a downer, but I felt like I had to get it off my chest somehow. I’ve been crying for the past two hours and I’m not even sure why. I’ll be fine in the morning, I’m sure–but tonight my heart is aching and my ego has been struck a solid blow.

  IMPORTANT LINKS:

StopBullying.gov Stop Bullying Twitter Cyberbullying Research Center STOPCyberbullying DO Something

Grief and Internet Anonymity Tonight was a bad night. I have been keeping fish for about 14 years now. It all started with a free goldfish that I won at a college orientation event.

[maggyme13]

Old Lady Part 10

Here the links to the previouse parts :) 1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9

Happy looked down towards your hands, you had sneeked around his waist. Your head layed on his back, and you listened to his calm heartbeat.

"I asked Chucky if there is one of the doorms left for me to stay in  tonight."

He turned around with a frown on his face.

"Don´t look at me like that. You need to have a night of your own and do what you always do after a party."

"Milli-"

"You are sharing your dorm with me the whole time. You never thought about yourself these past days. You need this. You need to release steam. You almost killed Juice today because you are loosing control. And don´t worry. There is a whole clubhouse full of bikers between any intruder and me. Please Hap. Enjoy yourself - for me."

"I will try."

He hugged you tight and kissed you on your forehead.

"Come on, lets get ready. I want to see what you brought. Hulk didn´t want to tell me."

"You will like it."

You waited for him to get ready and leave the dorm himself.

As soon as the door closed after him, you took the dress out of the bag and started to get ready yourself.

After a quick shower, you put your hair into big curlers and started to finish  make up.

It was a decend one, so no one would mistake you for a sweatbutt or croweater.

Your  hair dried , you  put on the dress and heels.

After a quick check, you released the hair, enabling it to flow around your head and shoulders in big waves and curls.

With a pounding heart, you entered the mainroom and walked towards your brother.

Happy and Kozik sat at the bar, diskussing something you couldn´t understand.

"So, what  you think? Am I allowed to join the party or do I have to hide in one of the dorms?"

Both their heads turned towards you.  Kozik´s had a smile, Happy´s a frown.

Why ?

"Lookin´ beautiful sweatheart. Am I right brother?" Kozik asked his brother.

"Yeah. Hope I don´t need to kill a brother today. But I like it. Though the skirt could be longer."

"Longer? It´s already reaching my knees. "

He only cocked an eyebrow on your little outburst.

"Hulk said it looks good and  aint not to short." She pouted."No muffin for you next time."

"Ohh, sure you don´t want to take that back Happy? Last chance."

The blond biker laughed.

"You wearin something beneath that?" Your brother asked again.

"Nothing. Naked like the day I were born", You answered cooly, starting to get pissed.

Earning a deep glare by a breathless brother.

"Jesus. Who do you think I am ? A whore? Of course I am wearing underwear beneath the dress, and I will put a pair of shorts on, befor the sparty starts. I aint a Sweetbutt. You should really know me better."

Anger was visible in your voice.

Does he really think , with everything going on, I would walk around dressed like a whore?

"I am always wearing something beneath." with these words you walked away, not wanting to get in an arguement with your brother tonight. You really wanted to relax, you deserved it.

You headed towards the door. But when you reached out for the doorknop, you remembered the promise given to Hulk.

You looked around, searching for the hughe biker.

Maybe he´s outside?

You  opened the door and peeked outside.

It was already 7pm and the party would start soon.

Hulk lend on one of the ringpoles.

"Sometimes I hate my brother." You sighted. "Can you believe he said the skirt should be longer.?"

"Na. Its long enough. Don´t listen to him. He´s just worried. I think you look beautiful."

"Ohh thank you. I know why you are one of my favorites.So, do you know who will be here tonight?"

"As much as I know, only Samcrow, the five of us and maybe five Nomads. And the usual Croweaters, Sweatbutts and wifes of course."

"Just a little party then. Thank god."

"Jepp, just a little one. So if you want to crash, there are just a fiew witnesses." he laughed.

"Who told you my gameplan for tonight?" You answered with a smile on your face.

"What would I do without you ?"

"Right now? Probably trying to kill your brother because he had probably killed the mohawk boy earlier."

"Probably."

Both of you sat quietly next to each other for some minutes, watching Oli and the other prospects starting the BBQ,.Then the first Nomad turned into the parkinglot.

"Let´s head back inside. Your brother should be sorry by now" He winked and pulled her with him.

"He should. I told him he will never ever get a muffin again.", YOu answered with a little laugh in the voice.

"If not. I will happily take his." Was his answer, bevor heading inside the clubhouse.

"I bet"

Once back inside, Hulk joined his brothers at the bar.

"What are you doing Juice?"

He looked up startled and surprised. "I -uhm- I am checking the cams, to make sure they are working correctly. And I am arranging a private server, so we can save the records for some time. You know to check afterwards if someone was there to try something. Usually they don´t record you know" He answered shy.

"Please tell me you wount be sitting here this whole evening, watching these screens." You looked ad him sternly.

"Why do you look angry all of the sudden? No, the prospect and Scar will look at the screen. The Laptop will be over at the bar."

"Good. Because I don´t want you to miss the fun. Specially after your near- death experience this morning. We need to have a drink or two together and maybe a little round of billiard or cards."

He started to smile.

"-But NO Strippoker" She quickly added.

Now he looked shocked again.

"I -I- I would have never suggested that."

"I know. But these rooms have ears and we don´t want someone to have false hope or intentions, do we?"

He started to work again on his laptop. But glanced up every other second.

That didn´t get unnotices by you.

"Spit it out Juice. Do I have something on my face?"

"No. I, well you look good today. Not that you look bad the other days. You looke beautiful there to, but- " He frowned."-I should shut up now."

You don´t look bad yourself Juicy.

"You broke our IT." Tragger laugh behind you. "But he´s right. Ya looki´ georgeouse tonight doll. Wouldn´t kick ya off my bed ."

He held out a beer bottle,you greatfully accepted.

.-.-.-.--.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-..--.-..--.-.-.-.-.-.--.-.-.---..-

The evening was fun. Everybody forgot the things that happened for a little while.

Booze and beer seemed to flow endless. You played billiard and darts against half of the Tacoma and SAMCROW bikers. Sometimes winning, sometimes loosing.

The party weren´t even nearly the end, when you noticed your brother leaved for his dorm, a Sweetbutt flung over his shoulder.

I knew you would follow my suggestion. Have fun ,you deserve it.

You were in the middle of a staring contest with Juice ( one you would clearly win), when Chucky came over. Looking a bit worried.

"Whats wrong?" Juice asked him.

"Well. One of the Nomads puked on the bed in the dorm I readied for you ,Milli, and it all soaked . Your things as well."

"So you are telling me, the place where I wanted to crash isn´t any more?"

He nodded in shame.

"You can sleep in my dorm. I can crash on one of the couches." Juice imediatly stated.

"No."

"What- why?"

" I will not occupy your room and have you crashed on one of these couches." You stated stern.

"It´s ok."

"No either we both sleep in oyur dorm or none of us. And don´t argue with me on this."

"But, what about your brother. I don´t want to die." He squeaked.

Ok now he is paniking.

"Juice. What do you think what upset him more. Me sleeping in your dorm, as well as you, or sleeping in the main room on the floor?"

He frowned.

"Exactly. He will be more pissed if I sleep on the floor in the mainroom. So do you have an shirt I could borrow to sleep in?"

You had already turned and walked towards the dorm.

"Yer comin?"

The young biker handed your an old shirt and a pair of boxers to change into.

"You can change, I will grab something to drink for tonight, you want something yourself?"

"Yeah. You can bring me a bottle of water. I will change in the meantime."

He nodded and left the dorm.

When he returned. you had occupied his bed and were snuggling the sheats.

"I will turn around so you can get changed yourself."You told him sleepy.

You felt the matress dip, when he laided down next to you, but he cept as much distand as possible. Nearly falling of his own bed.

"Juice. I wont bite. Get YOUR ass in YOUR bed, the way it belongs. Or do I need to help you?"

It took some seconds, but he decided to listen to his guest.

"Happy will kill me if he sees us like that."he mumbled paniked.

Calm down boy.

"Juice for your own sake, stop worrying and start sleeping." You mumbled tired , starting to get angry.

"And don´t you dare to apologise now."

Not long after, both of you  were fast asleep.

A tickle on your back woke you up, a few hours later.

The  frown  on your face deepened when you felt weight around your waist, that weren´t there befor.

What the...Juice?

And indeed , Juice had snuck his arm around you and were snuggling his forhead against your head, letting his breath tickle you.

It was to dark in the room for your eyes to recognise any features, but he seemed to be relaxed.

This feels-good. I wonder....

A stir behind ended your thoughts, making you stopt breathing for a second fearing the young biker might wake up.

But he only snuggled deeper into your back. His upper body was now pressed against you.

With a smile and a warm feeling in the chest, you slipped  back into a deep and restorative sleep.

Part 11 is online

[glasgowgirl92-blog]

Lullaby: We did Good

A/N: SO! This is the long awaited next chapter wherein Jay is grumpy, Erin is emotional and Will meets his niece for the first time. There is another mini-ficlet that is scheduled to come later tonight for this series due to the fact I said this would be updated last night and it never was! The Playlist will be up tomorrow and then hopefully we’ll be back to our regular schedule of Thursdays and Fridays! 

Huge thank you to everyone who has commented, reblogged, messaged me, liked this series. It gives me life. I will make a master post for this and playlist, but in the meantime, you can find Lullaby, Sleepless in Chicago, The Sass is strong with this One, The Call in the links! I’m open to prompts and these can be read in any order, and you don’t have to read them all! 

I’m going to make a tagging list; so if you want added? Just let me know! 

Here you go; @halsteadpd​, @queseraone​, @erinlindscys​. 

Enjoy!

Erin smiled as she stroked the 5 o’clock shadow across Jay’s jaw, his lashes fluttering open and giving her a breath-taking smile, moving so his head was closer to her, resting on her shoulder as his eyes slipped closed again and the smile slowly faded from his face. She pressed a kiss to his hairline, pulling the blankets up a little higher, making sure he was warm enough. Sharon Goodwin had organized for Jay to be cared for in Erin’s room for the time being, even going so far as to bring in a larger bed. Jay had put up such an argument that it had been decided that he was going to be allowed to stay with his girls due to fear of him actually hurting himself any further.

He’d been in and out of consciousness. The shooting and recovery pulling at his energy reserves, but he’d held himself awake long enough to hold Millie, to call the relevant people, to watch her feed. Jay had been in awe of her, so gentle, so soft. He never raised his voice above a whisper when he spoke to her; and it made Erin’s heart swell at how much he cherished their new addition. She’d been worried that he’d want a boy, someone to carry on the family name, to throw a football around with and kick one around with, too. She knew, though, that Millie would still be able to do all of those things and more, because Jay never seemed like the type to discriminate between boys and girls.

All of Intelligence had been to visit in the past 12 or so hours, Ethan and April had popped up, too. Will had gotten as far as the doorway before his beeper had went off and he’d charged back out of the room. Natalie had also walked into the doorway, but said she was waiting for Will to come any further. So Erin let Jay sleep. She let him rest his head on her shoulder and fall asleep before gently rolling him back onto his back and rolling onto her side to rest her head on his shoulder. Trying to get him to lay on his back was almost impossible, so she’d taken to using him as a body pillow in order to watch Millie as she lay in her crib. That way, Jay could still be hooked up to his IVs and Erin could still be comfortable and have the best view.

This wasn’t her ideal. This wasn’t how she envisioned bringing their child into the world. She’d thought about it, long before Bunny and the FBI. Long before he’d even moved into her apartment. Long before she even realised she wanted children. They’d been working a case, just before Justin had passed away, and one of the suspects was pregnant and her boyfriend had left her high and dry. It had gotten Erin thinking about what would she do if she was pregnant and it had become the topic of conversation with Jay during the stake out.

“If you got someone pregnant, would you leave them?”

“What?” he turned to her, that damn eyebrow raised with the most adorable look of alarm across his face as he looked at her then to her navel and back up.

“If you got a woman pregnant would you leave?” There was a pause and she swore that all colour had drained from his face before she sighed, “I’m not pregnant Jay, I’m thinking about Tasha.”

“Oh.” He was quiet for a few minutes. “I’d be there; even if I wasn’t with the woman.” His voice was deceptively soft and Erin studied him. “I’d be around, be there to help. I couldn’t be an absent father. Kids need two parents in their lives.” He looked like he was going to say more; but movement caught his attention and he’d smirked, radioing in asking permission to take them down.

Erin smiled at the memory, how honest he’d been and how she’d believed him whole heartedly. The thought rose unbidden into her mind of the fact he was here too because he’d been shot, the sheer amount of blood he’d been covered in. She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t feel the bed shift or the soft hand on her face.

“Hey, Erin, babe, what is it?” his sleep roughened voice pulled her out of her thoughts as he softly wiped the tears from her eyes, wincing as he turned, glaring when she pushed him onto his back again.

“Nothing, hormones.” She tried to wave him off, sniffling and moving closer to him so he didn’t have the option other than to lay there. It didn’t stop him frowning and pulling her down for a soft kiss, though, nor did it stop him moving his arm to wrap around her and hold her close to him.

“Talk to me, we promised that there would be no secrets this time around.” Jay whispered softly against her head, pressing a kiss to her hair when she tried to speak. “I know a woman’s hormones are nuts right after the birth, I know that all the books said so, but there’s something in this. I know you Erin Lindsey.” He told her emphatically, allowing her to lift her head to look at him, so much emotion shining in her eyes and he smiled at her.

“I could have lost you. We could have lost you.” She told him, glancing over at the sleeping baby in the cot, a fresh set of tears spilling down her cheeks and over his fingers, causing him to bring his other hand to his hairline and move, the fact that she didn’t fight him this time proving the only way he managed to sit up and gently pull her into him.

“You didn’t,” Jay shook his head, “you didn’t lose me.” He promised her with a soft kiss, “All I could think about was you and how I needed to get back to you. I tried to get up,” there was a strange look in his eye, one that was far away but close at hand at the same time; as though he was trying to remember something that was a ghost in his imagination.

“You remember that?” She asked. She’d been asking for details, but no-one would tell her what had happened, how Jay had taken two to the chest. How the bullets had been cop killers. She’d tried to get it from anyone and everyone she could think of, tried to access the reports, but she’d been denied at every turn.

“Not all of it.” Jay shrugged, running his fingers through the length of her pony tail. “I don’t remember getting hit,” he shook his head. “I do remember hitting the ground, then everything is spotty. Tony was there, he looked pretty rough. I remember SWAT and the Ambo getting there the same time. I remember you speaking to me.” He frowned again and Erin blinked, she hadn’t spoken to him until he was on his way to the theatre, he’d been unconscious then.

“What did I say?” Erin asked softly, bring her hand up to trace Jay’s lips, a grin on her face at the fact that he remembered, that he’d come back to her because she’d asked him to.

“Uhh,” Jay bit his lip, trying hard to focus and concentrate, but it was evident that he didn’t know, he couldn’t pull that information from the fog. “All I know is, you were there and then I woke up.” He shrugged again, and Erin opened her mouth to speak before there was a knock at the door, causing her to turn around and Jay to try and see over her.

“I hope we’re not interrupting anything.” Natalie’s voice carried over the room and Erin shook her head, turning to sit next to Jay in the bed, a huge smile on her face as Natalie and Will entered the room, both with a couple of bags of gifts, flowers and balloons in their hands.

“I’m here to give Jay his next batch of injections.” Will told her. He’d yet to call them shots and it was clear why, he still hadn’t been able to come too close to Jay without looking terrified.

“Bite me.” Jay grumbled, moving around in the bed to wrap an arm around Erin, already sounding exhausted and Erin’s heart went out to him. She was exhausted, but so wired that she didn’t think she’d sleep for a month.

“How are you feeling?” Natalie asked, directing her question to both of them as she approached the bed, placing her bags on the table to lean in and give Erin a hug, moving around the bed to hug Jay, then beginning to assess his injuries again, Jay letting her because Erin had taken his hand and shot him a warning look.

“I’m good,” Jay said around a yawn and Natalie laughed and nodded, “I mean, you’re getting there, but you’re in much better shape. You’re a lucky man, Jay.” She told him with a soft smile.

“Most days,” Erin interjected, reaching for the bag of gifts, making room for Will to place the bags he’d brought along. Natalie laughed and shook her head, before moving over to the cot and gasping. “She’s gorgeous.” She said, eyes wide. “Can I?”

Erin wanted to say no; wanted to tell her to leave the baby and let her sleep, but there was something about the way Natalie was smiling at their daughter, something about the fact that she’d been there for Erin the second that Erin had arrived in the hospital that had her nodding and curling into Jay’s side, watching him watching Natalie lift Millie, the way his entire body tensed until the doctor had her cradled against her and she had sat down in the chair, holding Millie carefully but securely. Only then did he relax a little, making Erin smile and lean in to press a kiss to his cheek. If this is how he reacted to professionals, how would he react when Kevin and Adam eventually plucked up the courage to ask them to hold her?

“She’s so sweet,” Natalie was saying and it was only then that Erin noticed Will standing stiffly at the bottom of the bed, hands in his pockets, saying nothing.

“She is,” Jay agreed, and Erin watched as his eyes flicked between his daughter and his younger brother. “I uh,” he cleared his throat. “We uh,” Jay bit his bottom lip and Erin gave his hand a squeeze, a reassuring gesture to help him find the words. “Um, Mom’s name is Millie’s middle name.” Jay’s voice was so calm, but Erin felt him tense again with Will moved and she had to turn to rest her head against his shoulder to give her time to compose herself, so she wouldn’t break down in tears at the obvious fear apparent in her partner’s body; what was he afraid of?

Will was silent for a long time, just staring at the tiny bundle in Natalie’s arms. He opened his mouth to speak, but cleared his throat instead. “Mom would be proud.” He said eventually and Erin felt more than heard the gasp Jay took, but the only audible sound had her heart breaking at the sheer pain it caused Jay. “She’d be so proud of you,” Will’s voice caught and he cleared his throat again. “Gotta change your IV.” He said quickly, producing a bag from his pocket.

Jay nodded and Erin shuffled, moving slightly to let Jay lift his arm, his hand a death grip in hers and she knew he was using her as an anchor. Will was efficient as he changed the bag of pain killer that was up on the pole, changed the setting on the machine, lessening the dose slightly through some unspoken exchange that Erin could only see one side of.

“You need to hold her, Will.” Natalie stated from the corner of the room where she was busy fussing over Millie, kissing her little fist and talking to her.

“I’m good.” Will commented, shaking his head as he cleared Jay’s old bag away and moved the presents over to the others.

“She’s your niece, we need to get a picture with you guys.” Erin stated, slowly climbing out of the bed to snap a picture of Natalie and Millie.

“I’ll just crouch next to the chair.” Will said as he turned, crouching down and letting Erin snap the picture.

“That’s cute and all, but she needs a picture with just you.” Erin told him pointedly and she turned to look at Jay as Natalie stood, his entire body going rigid again as he tried to see around Erin to what was happening. Erin stepped to the side to give him a clear view, counting in her head how long he’d been holding his breath by the time Will had sat down in the chair, Natalie talking him through the handover.

“I swear to god if you drop her—” Jay spoke from where he was sitting,

“--You’ll do what?” Will asked, raising a brow, not paying attention to the baby, looking pointedly at Jay.

“I will shoot you.” Jay told him pointedly, “I will shoot you and not think twice if you don’t hold her properly.”

“Shoot me with what?”

“Dude, I’m not going to shoot you while you’re holding my child.” Jay pointed at him, “But I will shoot you when I can.” His threat was followed by another yawn and Will laughed. “That’s not funny, m’serious.” Jay was adamant, eyes widening when Will stood up after Erin took the picture, rocking Millie as he walked around. “Sit your ass down.” Jay’s voice was weak and Erin slowly inched her way towards him, trying not to draw attention to the fact she was about to restrain him to keep him in the bed.

“She’s perfect.” Will’s voice cut through the tension in the room, caused Jay’s body to lock up and then relax, caused a sheen in Natalie’s eyes and Erin to take Jay’s hand. “She’s absolutely perfect,” Will grinned, his voice thick with some unnamed emotion, but both brothers had the same look in their eyes. “You did good, little brother.”

Jay squeezed Erin’s hand and smiled. “We did, we did real good.” Jay’s grin was infections and Erin found herself smiling along with him; her’s lasting longer than his, however, when Will walked over to the bed and climbed up into it. “I swear to God and all things Holy, I will end your life and make it look like a goddamned boating accident if you do any damage to her.”

“A boating accident?” Will’s eyes were wide as he blinked.

“Yes. A boating accident. Now sit freaking still.” Jay hissed as Will got himself comfortable on the bed.

“I can hold a child, Jay. I’m a professional.”

“You make a habit of holding a lot of random babies?”

“No. I do have to treat children.”

“Not my child.”

“That would be unethical.”

“You need to support her head.”

“Okay, daddy day care.” Will quipped, earning himself a glare.

“I think you forget I’m military trained.” Jay raised an eyebrow and Erin and Natalie found themselves staring at the exchange with wide eyes.

“I think you forget that I don’t care about your ninja skills.”

“So you admit that I have them?”

“I never denied that you did.”

“You did, when we went to dinner with Mouse. You said—hold her damn head properly.” Jay muttered through gritted teeth, causing Will to laugh then huff and adjust his hold on her.

“I never once told Mouse to hold anyone’s head properly and having a potty mouth around your kid doesn’t bode well.”

There was a moment of silence between the two men, both of them glaring at each other. A split second where Erin panicked that this family reunion would turn into something that caused them to implode, but then they were both laughing, Jay’s hand coming up to support Millie’s head – despite it being adequately supported on Will’s arm – as the shared a laugh, a moment that Erin couldn’t help but snap with her phone, both she and Natalie grinning at the picture as the men resumed their playful banter, both of them holding Millie so carefully, despite the other’s interjections that they weren’t.

We have another 18 years of this.