#casey and her cookie addiction

[khvlani]

cookie monster — a calex short

— softies on their day off, one with raging stress and one who happens to have an obsession over sweets.

alex cabot is known for being notoriously good at many things. the squad, including her girlfriend, is often amazed by how she single-handedly tackles every inconvenience and has deemed her to be naturally skilled no matter what. she is just that good, whether in the courtroom, karaoke bar, polo field, and as casey would proudly flaunt, in the bedroom.

though despite her godly skills, the squad has learned that alex has her weaknesses and that there would always be one place where alex remains inferior, and that is the kitchen. she never understood how people got to smoothly create a meal for themselves, let alone a meal for her and her redhead. alex can vividly recall the last time she tried to make boiled eggs and ramen for casey but ended up causing a fire that eventually led to the pair deciding that casey would do the cooking and alex could set the table.

the squad has also had multiple encounters with alex disposing her mini fire extinguisher as they arrive at the couple’s place. they've also overheard casey, multiple times, talking on the phone with their repair guy to make a deal in regards to the burnt marks on the wall made by none other than alexandra cabot.

it may be put out in the world that alex can be disastrous in the kitchen, but she knows one recipe that for sure won't burn down the kitchen and guarantee her a good time in bed later that night, and those are sugar cookies. when alex found out about casey's love for sugar cookies, she made it her life's mission to figure out how to make a perfect batch that would make casey drool non-stop.

eventually, she did figure out how to do it and would occasionally make a batch for casey to eat at home or bring to work. casey has begged alex multiple times to make more than one batch but the blonde finds it challenging as she had tried it before and failed. her sugar cookies would become bitter cookies and sometimes it would even turn out salty. baking more than one batch makes her panic, which would then cause mishaps that can affect the entirety of her cookies.

today was different than her usual baking days, she was making 3 batches of sugar cookies, which was unsual for her. an orphanage whom she donated to and often assists, asked her to bake sugar cookies for their upcoming event. she had thought of turning down the favor but she was too shy to do so, plus, casey bragged too much about her mouth-watering cookies that even the kids—who casey plays with and gave cookies to—begged her for it. she was left with no choice but to do as told.

both casey and alex were on their day off, and casey left their place early to play softball with some old friends, leaving alex at home with her little project, and a fire extinguisher ready in the corner. the blonde was precise and careful about her measurements as she wants her cookies to be perfect, and she had to make a hundred for the little event, as requested. if her calculations were correct, 3 batches would make about 105 cookies—enough for the event and a little left for casey.

the redhead had just gotten home from her game when the smell of freshly baked sweets lingered in their duplex which tickled her nose making her smile. she followed the scent that led her to the kitchen where the blonde was caught focusing on her, what seems to be, third batch.

“are you making what i think you’re making?” casey smirks, leaning on the wall. alex looks up after pouring a cup of flour into the bowl, “the cookie monster’s favorite? why, yes” she smiles re-directing her focus to the batter in front of her. “i thought we weren’t interested in making big batches of cookies” casey says making her way towards her girlfriend, hugging her from the behind, slowly burying her face in her girlfriend’s neck, taking in her scent. “it’s for a charity event,” alex says turning around, facing her girlfriend who now, surprisingly, has a cookie in hand. “you can only get five though, so now you have four left” she says sternly.

“not fair.”

“i know, baby, but i’ll make you your own batch soon. after i finish this tedious ass task” she replies, cupping casey’s cheek and kissing her nose before letting go.

casey groans, rolling her eyes as she walks out of the kitchen. “i’ll be in the bedroom, scanning my cases” she says. “don’t think of anything stupid!” alex shouts from the kitchen. by the time casey had walked away from the kitchen, she had already thought of multiple ways to snatch more than four cookies. she had even thought of asking olivia to let her babysit noah as a distraction for alex while she baked. she looks at her pad paper, scratching out her little plans as she continues write more and more ideas.

she had already grown frustrated trying to plot her little scheme until she had her little light bulb moment.

“hey, baby” alex looks up at to see her girlfriend in her sports bra and boxer shorts, with her hair down, showing off her little curls. “yes, hon?” casey walks towards the kitchen island putting one hand on top of a tray full of cookies, sneakily grabbing two cookies. “i was thinking, for the charity event later, i’ll go with you” alex smiles,“that’s lovely, case. i’d love that” she says as she tips her toes trying to reach for casey’s lips who was at the other side of the island. “perfect. i’ll go pick out my clothes and i’ll be right back” casey walks away with two cookies in hand and a girlfriend who is unaware of the missing cookies in her tray.

a few minutes later, casey is back in the kitchen again, this time her choice of clothing has changed and she is more revealing. “alexandra,” she calls.

alex looks up raising her brows as she sees the redhead wearing only her panties. this was a sight to see for alex, except it was a view meant to be kept in the bedroom. she rushes towards casey, taking off her apron and putting it on casey who was all giggly.

“you like it don’t you?” alex was now red, distracted, and panicking. “yeah, babe, but this is for the bedroom only” casey chuckles, slowly pushing alex gently towards the island, kissing her just how she likes it before slowly moving her way towards alex’s neck. alex let out a soft moan, struggling to come up with a response “i-i- have co-cookies to finish” casey pauses before quickly letting go of alex giving her a soft but swift “okay”

“wait, so you’ll stop? just like that?” casey smiles, walking away farther away from the kitchen, “i mean yeah, you said you have cookies to bake so i’ll leave you to it” alex was baffled by the quick turn of event, which made her think, and all of a sudden, everything clicked.

“casey novak.” she calls, her tone low but not too aggressive.

casey stops in her tracks and stands stiffly. “yes?” she could feel the blonde getting near so she did the only valid thing to do in tense situations like this. “casey, nooooo” alex whines as she faces casey who now has 5 cookies shoved inside her mouth.

“ahm shory” alex sighs leaving the redhead and walking back towards the kitchen. “forget it.” alex starts cleaning up the kitchen and wrapping up the remainder of the baked cookies. “wait, baby, no. i’m sorry, we can make another batch,” casey says stopping alex’s hands from cleaning up. “no, we won’t. i’ll just give them not a hundred cookies and prove that i’m lousy and lazy and bad in the kitchen” she says moving casey’s hands gently. “they wont know” alex huffs.

“they will.” casey says walking towards her girlfriend and sliding her arms around her waist.

“they’ll be too busy eating your yummy cookies that they won’t know and even if you made a hundred or a thousand, it’ll never be enough. you know why?” alex stares into casey’s green eyes, relaxing her shoulders, “why?” casey smiles, moving alex’s loose hair to the side, getting a clear view of her beautiful blue eyes. “because it’s so good, they’ll be left wanting for more” she says before pulling alex closer and kissing her. “your cookies taste just as good as you babe, it leaves me wanting for more” casey says cheekily making alex laugh. “and if they notice and ask why there aren’t a hundred cookies?”

“tell them you have a cookie monster at home”

[openheartfanfics]

Newly Added Fics

Apr 29 - May 5, 2023  

🎭 Angst  |  🦚 Angsty Fluff  |  🛸 AU  |  ☁ Fluff  |  ♥ NSFW  |  📚 Series  |  📷 Edit  |  📱 TextFic  |  Ⓜ Mature

BRYCE X F!MC

Flipping Love - @storyofmychoices ☁

Bryce attempts to make pancakes for Olivia. [Cooks]

ETHAN X F!MC

A Different Fate… - @jerzwriter 📚🎭

[mini: wip] A conversation with his friend, Tobias, has Ethan recalling a night from long ago and how it still lives in his heart to this very day.

Part 3: It's been a long time.

A New Era - @genevievemd ☁

Gen and Natalie head to the ERA's tour, then make a startling discovery. Feat. Bryce Lahela x F!OC

Beautiful Stranger - @liaromancewriter 🛸

Ethan Ramsey wasn’t looking forward to tonight, and then he met the woman of his dreams. [Soulmates; Gala]

Everybody Hurts Sometimes - @coffeeheartaddict2 📚Ⓜ

[extended: wip] Casey is a top intern at Edenbrook, Ethan is the lead of Diagnostics. They share a secret of treating the revered Dr Naveen Banerji but is it all they will share. TW: Addiction and abandonment issues

Part 4: Changes of circumstances [1.14; 1.15]

Part 5: End of the road [1.17]

Hidden Memories - @potionsprefect ☁

Whilst unpacking boxes, Ethan discovers more about Victoria’s past.

The Green-Eyed Monster - @alj4890 ☁

Thirty Kisses in Thirty Days Challenge with the prompt: a kiss shared to make someone else jealous. [Jealous]

The Ring Fiasco - @headoverheelsforramsey ☁

When Ethan misplaces his engagement ring, Meera and her girls come up with a plan to teach him a lesson.

ETHAN X M!MC

Irresistible Force Paradox - @justcallmefox89 📚

[extended: wip] Retelling of Open Heart book 1.

Chapter 4

JACKIE X M!OC

A Short Summertime Story - @ezekielbhandarivalleros ☁

Jake plans something small for Jackie.

SIENNA X F!MC

Day One - @liaromancewriter 📚

What happened when Cassie met Sienna? Small moments that defined their friendship. [Platonic]

Part 2 [2.11]

Part 3

Midnight Talks - @trappedinfanfiction ☁

When she couldn’t sleep, Celia didn’t expect to find Sienna in the same situation. Luckily, cookies make everything better. [Platonic]

SIENNA X M!OC

In The Woods - @potionsprefect 📷

There's a surprise in store.

TOBIAS X F!MC

Bubble T - @jerzwriter 📱

It's National Bubble Tea Day. Set shortly after they're finally coupled up.

What's Forever For? - Miranda - @jerzwriter 📚🛸

[extended: wip] This short series will focus on how Tobias and Casey move forward in the immediate aftermath of their divorce.

Part 1

_

SUBMIT OPEN HEART FICS & WRITERS HERE

[fae-ridgeite]

Spot

Spot is Bisexual (preference towards men), FtM and uses He/Him pronouns. He's 17 years old

The reason he's called "Spot" is because of his freckles. He has Epidermal Navis, meaning his highly pigmented freckles follow his Blaschko lines in swarms

His real full name is "Salvador Gabrial Conlon". His father was Irish and his mother was Italian. (please please please @ me if anyone writes Italian Spot fics) When his spots started to show up around the age of 5, he was thought to be diseased or cursed and kicked out onto the streets. His father was a dock worker and his mother a seamstress.

He has a serious sweet tooth. This is inspired by all the clip of Tommy Bracco stealing Laurie Veldheer's birthday cake, the Girlsies's dressing room's TicTacs, and his addiction to Schmackery's Cookies. He was also the first one to get to the Newsies cookie cake.

He has undiagnosed Depression and Autism. He believes both are fake and something is wrong with him

He's not very into baseball, but he likes to play umpire when the boys go out every Saturday

Crutchie

Crutchie is Cupioromantic and uses He/They pronouns. He's 18 years old

He has undiagnosed ADHD

Crutchie's real name is "Casey Marty Morris", Marty being his middle name. This is inspired after the 1992 Newsies' actor for Crutchie, Marty Belafsky.

He likes to paint and draw. He met Jack at the refuge and got to be so close with him because of their shared interest in art. He's the one who got Jack into painting

If he could afford to go to school, he would. He soaks up knowledge like a sponge

He affectionately taps the boys with his crutch when they are fooling around

York

York is Gay and uses He/Him pronouns. He's 21 years old

He's Crutchie's cousin, but they look like siblings. York loves Crutchie with all his heart, but after loosing his eye Crutchie keeps away.

York's real name is "Rodger Marty-Andrews". Unlike Crtuchie's real name his Marty is hyphenated with his last name, which was inspired by AKB's name.

York doesn't like leaving Brooklyn, that's his safe spot- his click. He was born and raised there and loves the people there

He was raised in a church. Like most of the Newsies, hes an "orphan" or was told he was one. His mother was one of the nuns but to protect her and baby York, the nuns at the church he was born at pretended he was given to them

he doesn't speak a lot because of his voice. He sounds like a younger Harvey Fierstein, which makes a lot of people look at him and that makes him anxious.

Drop your newsies headcanons im bored

[alj4890]

Choices February Challenge

Day 1 Bouquet

(Bryce Lahela x F!MC*Chris) in a Choices Open Heart Drabble

A/N Nothing but fluff.

@lucy-268 @krsnlove @anotherbeingsworld @choicesfebchallenge​ @withbeautyandrage @openheartfanfics​ @ofpixelsandscribbles​

masterlist

Punny of Reasons

Chris's senses began to awaken as sunlight filtered into the room.

She could hear the muffled sounds of her roommates as some prepared for work while others dragged themselves to their rooms after a long night. She sighed at the warm cocoon of blankets that kept her from easily rolling out of bed. Her eyes opened to see her clothes from the night before tossed in different places.

Anger always made her feel the need to throw things.

What an awful night.

She refused to think on the fight she had with Bryce. She didn't know why he had suddenly developed a jealous side. All she did know was that he had pushed her patience past the point of no return.

"Stupid jerk." She muttered. "I brought brownies for the entire diagnostic team. I can't help it if they just so happen to be Ethan's favorite."

She knew one thing. Bryce would have to literally crawl on his knees if he ever wanted to speak to her again.

Much less anything else.

A mouth watering smell struck her when she heard a soft knock.

"Chris?" Sienna poked her head in. "You awake?"

"Yeah." Chris forced a smile for her dearest friend's sake. "Doesn't matter what shift I work. My body still thinks I'm going to be late for class."

Sienna laughed as she stepped inside. In her hands were the weirdest colored roses Chris had ever seen.

They also strangely smelled like bacon.

"These were just delivered." She explained.

Chris sat up, eyes narrowing in confusion. "Is that...are those bacon roses?"

"They are." Sienna's laughter tinkled again. "I had to fight off Elijah just to get them safely here."

She handed them over along with an envelope.

Chris took it and removed a folded sheet of paper.

I know I fry your temper, but please don't go bacon my heart.

She nearly sprained her eyes from rolling them so hard.

Sienna gushed when she saw the message. "That. Is. Adorable!"

"You mispronounced stupid." Chris grumbled. She picked up one of the stems and bit off a rose bud. "At least the bacon tastes good."

While nibbling on another, she ignored the many text messages Bryce sent throughout the night telling her how sorry he was.

She offered some of the roses to Sienna then told her to let Elijah have the rest.

There was no way she was ready to forgive Bryce. Yet.

*****************

Edenbrook...

"Dr. Valentine?"

Chris paused at the entrance when she heard her name.

Her eyebrow lifted when a bike messenger handed her a bouquet of mini doughnuts.

Lifting the card, her lips firmed into a slight frown at another ridiculous pun.

Doughnut deny you're as crazy about me as I am you.

Shoving the note in her coat pocket, she offered everyone she passed by one a doughnut while making certain to keep one chocolate covered one for herself.

****************

Two hours later...

"I believe the MRI shows--" Ethan glared at the interruption. "What is it?"

"I have a delivery for a Dr. Casey Valentine." A woman, dressed in a pink shirt with the word's Cookies for Life Bakery, printed on it replied. "I was told I could find her here."

"I'm Dr. Valentine." Casey felt heat rush up to the tips of her ears as she took a bouquet of heart shaped sugar cookies from the woman's hands. "Thanks."

Another card with another pun was attached.

We are a batch made in heaven.

"Aww!" Baz softly squealed. "Someone is loved!"

Casey cleared her throat while telling them to help their selves.

As soon as she had a free moment, she would have a talk with a certain surgeon.

************

A few hours later...

As she reviewed another set of lab results, Casey swallowed the last of her third cookie while ignoring the jokes Ethan was making about her sugar addiction. She let out a groan when their office door was opened by one of the nurses.

"Dr. Valentine? These were left at the nurses station for you."

"Thanks Ray." She mumbled. Her brow furrowed at a group of roses made from paper. She leaned closer to try and make out the typed words.

Recognizing a few quotes and names from Pride and Prejudice, she set the vase down on her desk.

Another folded sheet of paper with her name scrawled across caught her attention.

Our love story has no ending.

She closed her eyes in disbelief. How was he wearing her down with these insanely sweet gestures?

**************

A few more hours later...

"Should I be concerned?" Ethan asked.

Casey looked up at the bouquet in his hands.

"Cupcakes!" She dropped her head on her desk.

"I'm going to have to send for some insulin if you keep this up." Ethan teased. He handed her the card that came with it.

She debated on whether or not to open it. Knowing it would be some pun to melt her heart, she tried to steel herself while opening the envelope.

You bake me crazy.

A laugh escaped her lips causing her to shake her head. She set it in her desk drawer then reached for a cupcake.

***************

The end of Dr. Valentine's shift...

Chris went to the locker room, returning goodnights and greetings as she walked over to gather her coat and purse.

When she opened it, soothing smells wafted up. Her eyes dropped down at the bouquet of pink roses and votive candles.

Lifting it up, she spotted a slip of paper tucked inside a glass votive holder.

Nothing lights me up like my perfect match.

Sighing with a smile forming, she shut the locker door and headed out.

****************

Bryce's apartment...

"If it isn't my favorite doctor." Bryce greeted, ushering her in.

"Yeah, yeah." She struggled to hide her joy in seeing him. "Any chance you know anything about these bouquets I've been getting all day?"

"Bouquets?" Bryce rubbed his jaw while a grin peeped out. "Hmm? I don't know what you're talking about."

He cocked his head toward his kitchen counter. "I know someone left that for you earlier."

She smiled at the bottle of champagne surrounded by chocolate flowers.

"This was left with it." He came up behind her, slipping one arm around her waist while he held up a piece of paper.

She leaned back against him as he kissed her neck. Doing her best to ignore the butterflies he caused, she focused on this one's pun.

Chris, you're absolutely bottleful.

Giggling when he squeezed her tight, she turned in his arms. Her eyes touched on his handsome face while her fingers tangled in his hair.

"Any chance I'm forgiven?" He said softly, pressing his forehead to hers.

"You are so lucky Lahela." Chris muttered as she kissed him.

"How lucky are we talking?" His grin grew at her pretending to think over it.

"I'd say extremely lucky."

"Then perhaps I should show you your last bouquet." He lifted her into his arms and carried her into his bedroom.

She searched for a vase before noticing what appeared to be red and white roses scattered on his bed.

Chris picked up one and laughed. "Lacy underwear? You must have been very sure I would forgive you."

"I wasn't." He tugged her back in his arms. "I was only hopeful."

She smiled against his lips. "Is there a card with some type of underwear pun on it?"

"No." He molded her against him. "I had one planned, but I thought it was too brief."

[addictedtoredemption]

Poop Sock

It’s November 14th , 2019. I had just woken up, and it was time for the usual morning pee. As I pull down my pants and go to sit down I brace myself for the cold steel metal that soon will be touching my bare skin. The initial shock of the brisk coolness fades, and my eyes gaze over to the side of the toilet, and I see a gray frayed sock that has been tied in a knot. I think to myself, “this must have been left here by someone before me. Yuck, that’s fucking gross.” I contemplate whether I should throw it away. I hope to myself that I won’t be here long enough for it to matter. Hopefully I will leave today, and this sock won’t matter. Why bother throwing it away? “No, I better just get it out my sight, plus I don’t want them to think I have something extra or that I am not picking up after myself.” I grab the sock between my pointer finger and thumb and the oh so familiar “this is fucking gross” scrunched up face is on full display. That’s weird, it’s heavy, what the hell is in here? I don’t want to know. I toss it in the trash, and hear it thud against the brown plastic bin. I sit down on the blue mat on the floor.

I haven’t cried much yet. I’m still in shock. How did I get here? Why do I do this to myself? Why can’t I just play by the fucking rules? I hear the slamming of the thick steel door, and I hear the corrections officer yell, “Food! Top tier.” Ladies begin rushing down the stairs. It’s wave of orange jumpsuits that form a long line down one side of the commons area of Mod 13. Mod 13 is the women’s minimum-security housing for inmates. Definition of inmate: any of a group occupying a single place of residence especially: a person confined (as in a prison or hospital.) Inmate- Jenna West, 34, wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend, nurse, and now inmate. In jail, you are none of those other things, you are inmate. “Inmates line up for food, inmate meds are here, inmate line up for court, inmate you can use the phone, inmates you can shower, inmates it’s time for lights out.” You see, the corrections officers don’t know my story, they don’t really care. They are here to earn their paycheck and go home. They see me simply as another criminal, piece of shit, and deservedly here to serve out time for the deviant ways I have betrayed society. I stare at the women in line waiting for the slop that is to be served on scratched up, sometimes clean brown trays. They hold their brown cups in their hand hoping that by the time they get up to the front the juice won’t be gone. I use the term juice lightly, as it is a cup of water with a splash of flavoring. As they wait for their food they laugh, chat, braid each other’s hair, and seem oblivious to their current situation. It enrages me that they can be having a good time. Do they not realize this isn’t summer camp? We are in jail! “Bottom tier, let’s go.” I grab my cup and walk across the bright white floor to take my place in line. I am careful not to push my way in and try to remain unseen. That is until “Inmate! Are you forgetting something?” I don’t even look up; it doesn’t occur to me that she would be talking to me. “Hello?!, Inmate orange needs to be on.” I look down and I still have my brown t-shirt on. I feel like it’s the first day of school when you inevitably miss the memo on what’s what, and now you are the center of attention. “Sorry, I’ll go get it.” I quickly walk over to myself cell and grab my orange shirt and walk back to the line. I get my tray of food. It’s brown mystery meat. I’m told it is hamburger. A piece of white bread, a plastic spoon with ½ teaspoon of ketchup, a potato side, carrots, and cookie. I eat the cookie. The hamburger is completely inedible. The potatoes have no flavor. The carrots are cold. I don’t have much of an appetite anyway. I begin to think about my family. How worried my mom is. How mad my husband is. How clueless my kids are as to where Mommy is. I just want to be home. I want to be watching my two-year-old little girl playing with her toys, watching Pink Fong, and running to me for the occasional snuggle or kiss. I want to look outside and see my son, 10, walking down the hill from school. I want to greet him at the door and ask how his day is. I want to have some funny banter with my husband over texts. I want to give him a kiss when he comes home from work. I want to sit down on the couch with him and watch our shows. I want to sleep in bed next to him. Oh, a bed-I would give anything for a bed. I had dreams almost every night I was in jail about finding pillows in secret passageways. I just wanted a fucking pillow. All we are given is a 1-inch-thick blue mat with one end a little thicker for what one might call a pillow. It’s a stark contrast from my king size bed, with a 2in memory foam thick mattress toppers, Casper pillow, and down comforter. I don’t get a sweet tap on my shoulder at 2 am from my sweet Stella, asking if she can sleep with me. Instead, I lay awake most hours of the night counting the white bricks that make up my small cell, all 252 of them. I am anxious, I am sad, and I am defeated. During phone time, I call my mom just to have a small amount of comfort. She hears the pain and sorrow in my

voice. I know it’s selfish of me to call her, I know that calling her, and letting her hear me cry is painful, but I can’t help it. I need that comfort, I need to hear her voice, and I need a moment away from my reality. I call my husband, Casey, next. I ask if he has spoke to my lawyer, if he found out when I might get out, and I ask what he told Jaxson. His tone with me is firm, and his answers are concise. I don’t find much comfort in talking to him, as I know that he is angry with me. I’ve let him down. I’ve made him the sole caretake for our children for no one knows how long. I’ve placed my job in jeopardy. I’ve embarrassed him. There are few family members, and friends that know of my situation at this point, and he now has to tell them his wife, mother of his children is in jail so he might need some help with the kids. He tells me he told Jax, that Mom had to go on a work trip, and she is somewhere where there is no service. Jax asked, “Why would she just leave? Why wouldn’t she say goodbye? When will she be back.” These feelings my son had to feel because of my poor choices is just another ripple of many ripples in this giant ocean of the clusterfuck I have made of my life. The burden my husband had to bear is one of many he has had to endure because he married an addict. The pain and disappointment my mother and father felt is only worsened by images of their youngest daughter in jail away from her family, and there is nothing they can do to help.

I do find some comfort in that I don’t have a cellmate. I get the bottom bunk so I don’t have to try to hoist myself up on the top one. That comfort is quickly taken away on day two of my jail stint. Midday on November 14th a pretty brunette girl storms through the cell door into my cell. She says, “Hey, I am your roommate, can I have the bottom bunk? I just had a baby, and I can’t climb up there.” She could have given me any reason as to why she wanted the bottom bunk, and I would have conceded. She seemed like this wasn’t her first rodeo, and I wasn’t about to start any bad blood with someone I’d be in an 8X10 room with for the foreseeable future. Rachelle, had just been moved from the medical infirmary back to general population, “gen pop.” She had her baby only three days early. She gave birth under police custody, she spent 24 hours with her baby before she was shipped back to jail. I felt sad for her, and I felt angry for her. How can the system be so heartless that they rip a newborn baby from their mother just hours after birth? She clearly isn’t a murderer or armed robber; she is in minimum security. What could she have done that was so terrible? I’d later find out that she was caught shoplifting from a Thrift world Store. She was nearly 7 months pregnant at the time, and when they searched her, they found meth in her bra strap. They didn’t give her a bond because they wanted to ensure the baby had a fighting chance. She was to serve out the rest of her pregnancy in jail, and after the baby was born they would then decide her fate. This girl gave zero shits about anything. She quickly rummaged through her clothes- two orange pairs of shirts and pants, two underwear, two sports bras, and two pair of socks. The standard wardrobe for Douglas County inmates. She threw of her orange shirt, and through her brown shirt I could see two wet sports where her nipples would be. She was leaking, engorged, and in pain. She threw off her bra and exposed her bare breast, then asked me what I think she should do? You see on top of the emotional pain of not being with her newborn, she had to endure the pain of not being able to breastfeed therefore having engorged breasts that leaked constantly causing chapped nipples that chaffed against her sport bra. She tried to put socks and toilet paper between her skin and her clothing to ease the discomfort, but it was to no avail. I looked down quickly, and just said you need to just try to keep them dry. I told her that if she had some Chapstick that it might help with the chaffing. She swapped bras and grabbed a clean shirt and continued to unpack her bags and make herself at home. She raised hell about how dirty the cell was, and ranted, “this is fucking disgusting, how do people live like this?” She ran out of the cell to grab cleaning supplies. Cleaning supplies? I had no idea we could just go get cleaning supplies to make things a little more livable. I assured her had I known, I would have cleaned, and I told her I was hoping I was leaving later that day, so I didn’t see the point. But I picked up some supplies and assisted her with the cleaning of our humble abode. Once everything was in order she said, “Do you have any extra socks?” I replied, “No, only what they gave me, why?” “Because we need to make a poop sock.” What the hell is a poop sock I thought. Is it what she used to wipe her ass? Does she poop in it in and throw it away, or reuse it? My mind mulled over what in the actual fuck is a poop sock. Turns out a poop sock is what I had thrown away earlier. You see I had no idea that that poop sock was a gift. A glorious gift that one inmate bestowed on future inmates in order to lessen our suffering. She explained that a poop sock is when you take a bar of soap, and crumble it into many pieces, let it dry out, and then stuff it into a sock and tie a knot on the top to hold it all in. Then when you take a number two you beat the sock against the wall and shake it all around you. A dust of soapy freshness then fills the air. A poop sock is a jail made bathroom air

freshener, and it was genius. I walked over to the trash and fumbled through the dirty paper towels we had just used to clean and pulled out our poop sock. Relief and delight washed over Rachelle’s face. Turns out she was an avid poop sock user, as I would soon be choking on soap flake dust every time she went to the bathroom. She would bang that thing against the wall and violently shake all around her while she used the bathroom. I couldn’t help but giggle because she looked like a priest throwing holy water on someone the way she shook that gray ratty sock all over the place. Day two, and I was learning the jailhouse lingo, and already impressed with what these ladies could come up with. I later told my mom, well at least this experience builds character.

I ended up only spending 7 days in jail. Some people respond to that, “Oh my god, 7 days? How did you get through that? I would die.” While others, like people I was on drug court with, would reply, “Ah, 7 days, man, that’s nothing. I lost 7 years while I was in prison.” It’s all about perspective.

[lovehugsandcandy]

Perfect Day  (Rafael x MC, OH)

A/N: This was a request from @cpt-indigo, who wanted “Rafael x MC, road trip.” I really hope you like this. Thank you so much for SUCH a fun request; I had a lot of fun writing this for you and I really hope you enjoy. I am so so so sorry it took so long. Eternally grateful to @akrenich for editing, fixing my comma addiction, and keeping me honest as I step outside my comfort zone.

Pairing: Rafael x MC, OH

Length: 2,735 words

Rating: PG-13 (Swearing? But like, minor swears?)

Summary: Casey and Rafael do not sell seashells by the sea shore. They do a lot of other things though.

Tags: I took everyone off tags because I think ya’ll want a Colt story and this is not a Colt story and I have no idea what I’m doing and I don’t want to spam anyone.

There was another knock at the door, the second one in less than three minutes, and Casey swore under her breath, digging under the couch cushion.

“I’ll get it!” Sienna bounced by and Casey jumped on top of the couch to grab her. They were the only two awake in the house and Casey knew she should let her roommate open the door; she didn’t want to wake anyone else up. But she just… she wanted to answer the door, to be the one to greet him. She just needed her goddamned keys.

She glared, balancing on her perch on top of the couch, finally letting go of Sienna’s arm. “Do not get that door. Do not touch that door. Give me a minute.”

Sienna stared at her, starting to edge away, slowly walking backwards, as if Casey was a wild animal about to pounce.

“Okaaay...”

Casey dove off the couch and continued her search. "I just need a minute." 

“Does this mean you don’t want the cookies?”

She looked up from behind a cushion. “You made cookies?”

Sienna laughed, sauntering to the kitchen. “Right now, I think Rafael deserves them more than you.”

Casey groaned and reached; finally, she felt metal at the tips of her fingers, just a little further— got it. “Thank God!” Clutching the keys, she ran to the door and pulled it open. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Rafael smiled at her,  impossibly handsome as always. 

“Come in.” Casey smoothed down her hair. With the lost key fiasco, she forgot that she was nervous but now, at the sight of him, the familiar butterflies were back. They always seemed to reappear when he was around; she couldn’t tell if they were drawn in by his courage, his honesty, his love for his family, or his devotion to the community. Or maybe it was the wave in his hair, the quirk of his lips when he smiled, the jacket that hid the t-shirt that hid the muscles. Crap. Casey really liked him.

“Are you sure you’re ready to go? I can give you more time.” The quirk of the lips was back, a half-smile that she just wanted to kiss.

She shook her head. “I just need to get my bag.”

“And the cookies!” Sienna reappeared, chocolate chip cookies in hand, enclosed in tissue paper, red ribbon giving them a festive touch. She handed them over with a grin. “Hi, Rafael.”

“Oh wow, are those for us? Thank you!”

“You need road trip food!”

Casey grabbed her backpack, pulling Sienna in for a hug. “Thank you, you are the best and I love you.” Dropping her voice, she whispered, “I’m sorry if I was mean about the door.”

Sienna laughed. “No sweat. Now, shoo, go have fun.”

With one last wave, Casey grabbed Rafael’s hand and pulled him out to the street, squinting into the sunshine. He opened the car door for her and she threw her bag in. “Thank you, good sir.”

He smiled at her, eyes soft, leaning into a bow before climbing into the driver’s seat himself.

“Do we have everything?” His hair caught the morning light, a soft glow that brightened his features. Casey already thought he was an angel but now he looked it, too, halo of light around his head as he sat in the driver’s seat. 

He caught her staring and she blushed, clearing her throat. “I think so...Playlist?”

“Double check. I have two.” He held up his phone.

“Phone charger?”

He pointed to the USB cord between them.  “Check.” 

“Twizzlers?”

“Ch- wait what? That seems like an unhealthy choice for a doctor...”

She swatted his arm. “I can’t go on a road trip without Twizzlers! Also, these, obviously.” She opened the cookies, handing one over.

He took a bite, one arm on the steering wheel. “Ready to go?”

Casey pulled open the GPS on her phone. “Let’s go, Superman,” She had never been to Cape Cod, hadn’t been to many places in Massachusetts, but Rafael had been nothing but generous with his time, showing her around Boston, taking her in a helicopter, even introducing her to his grandmother. She was excited to see another landmark in the area and even more excited to be doing it with Rafael by her side.

“Oh my God, it says two hours!” Apparently, they were not the only ones headed down the Cape on a beautiful day. “You know, this would have been 15 minutes in the helicopter.” 

“The helicopter is also only used for medical emergencies.”

She batted her eyes at him. “But what if the emergency is that I really want to go to the beach or I’ll die?”

He shot her a wry grin before lacing their fingers together and kissing the back of her hand. “Well, maybe we can find you a paramedic to save the day.”

“Make it a handsome paramedic and you’re on.” She gave his hand a squeeze, wondering if this was what total contentment felt like.

~~~~~

The drive took a long time but for Casey, it seemed to go by in a flash. She and Rafael talked and laughed and ate junk food and bickered over music and she stole kisses when they were completely stopped. She didn’t think she would mind if they never got out of the car.

Finally, the GPS directed them into the parking lot, rows of cars between them and the most gorgeous beach she had ever seen in her life. The sand stretched to the left as far as she could see; on the right, above the rocks and crashing surf, a clam shack stood, a few seagulls squawking around, looking for morsels.

“Oh, I love it!”

He ducked his head. “My family used to come down here sometime in the summers. We would drive down and spend the day in the sand.”

She paused, watching him. “Thank you for sharing it with me.” She liked the idea of him as a child, building sandcastles in the sand. She liked learning even more about him, every small piece of his past. She grabbed his hand, leading him down to the beach, past sunbathers and laughing children to snag a prime piece of real estate.

“Does this look good?”

“This looks great,” Rafael spread out a huge sheet, weighting down the corners with bags and shoes.

Casey wiggled her toes in the sand. “You came prepared!”

“Paramedics are always prepared!” He looked affronted.

“I thought that was the Boy Scouts.”

“Maybe Boy Scouts are just juvenile paramedics.” He grabbed a tube from his bag. “Sunscreen?”

“If you’re offering.” She relaxed under his touch, relishing his strong hands as they massaged her neck, arms, back. “Have I mentioned how amazing you are at that?”

A shy smile. “Maybe a couple times.”

“A couple million times, now get over here, you.” She grabbed the sunscreen from him, applying a generous blob to his nose, then his back. “I can’t have my Superman getting sun burnt.”

T-shirt off, he was every bit the hunk that the nurses talked about. She grinned to herself, gliding her hands in slow circles down the muscles of his back, feeling his sides twitch when she hit a sensitive spot. Sure, they all knew how handsome he was. But she was the only one who knew his heart, the goodness that emanated from every pore of this man. They could look all they wanted; she was the one who got to stand next to the hero.

“Did you want to go in the water?”

She raised her eyebrows at him. “Race ya?”

“Ok, su-” He trailed off as she sprinted away. “Hey! Cheater!”

Casey laughed; she could hear footsteps behind her but she didn’t dare look, didn’t dare turn around and lose momentum. She was so close. So. Close.

“Aaaahh!!” Strong hands wrapped around her waist, pulling her off the ground as she laughed and laughed and laughed. He swung her around, grinning ear-to-ear. 

“You cheated.”

She couldn’t stop laughing, burrowing her face in his shoulders as he carried her further into the ocean. Oh no. She could see where this was going. “Wait....wait...” She was laughing too hard to get the words out.

“One...two...THREE.” Rafael swung her, trying to toss her into the water, waist-deep now.”

Casey held on, tight, arms wrapped around his neck for dear life. He tried to throw her but couldn’t and they both tumbled into the surf. When Casey emerged, wiping water from her eyes, tasting salt and sand, Rafael stood over her, water dripping from his hair, droplets sliding down his face.

“Casey?”

“Yeah?”

“I won.” He grinned as she sputtered at him. She couldn’t stay mad long and wrapped him in a hug, his warmth warding off the chill from the water.

“Hey, Rafael?”

“Yeah?”

She kissed his cheek, then cupped his cheek for a chaste kiss, salt and happiness on his lips. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For coming up with this idea. For showing me this place.” She shrugged. “For being you.”

He held her close, one kiss fading into the next as the water lapped around them.

~~~~~

They walked down the beach, collecting seashells and swapping stories. They went back in the water when it got too hot, body surfing and splashing each other. They hung out on the sand, sharing a pair of earbuds, using them as an excuse to lie close. When they got hungry and ran out of cookies, Casey looked down the beach. “Wanna hit the crab shack?”

“You read my mind.”

Together, they packed up their things to put into the car then walked hand-in-hand to get lunch. After five minutes of indecision (both the lobster roll and the fried clams looked amazing), Rafael wisely broke the stalemate.

“You get one, I’ll get the other, and we share?”

Casey had to stand on her tiptoes to kiss his nose. “You are a genius.”

Both of the options looked better than they’d thought and Casey’s mouth watered as they sat at one of the picnic tables. The surf crashed behind them, the sun was high in the sky. Casey had amazing food in front of her, an amazing man next to her. Was this heaven?

“Ok, let’s split it.” He grabbed half of his lobster roll, sliding it on her plate, while she did the same with the clams. “I’ll get more napkins.”

He made it three steps when disaster struck. Casey would have screamed if she had more time to react but, suddenly, there was a commotion above her, around her, flapping wings and squawking cries and then? A violent robbery.

She was covering her head, trying to protect herself from the aerial assault, but they were everywhere. Rafael ran back the three steps, waving his arms around, trying to get the seagulls to disperse. He was yelling or laughing or both at the same time; she didn’t know. All she could do was duck and laugh.

By the time he had chased them away, they had stolen all her fries, most of the clams, and half the lobster roll. She frowned as she trudged back to the line, trailing behind Rafael, gripping his hand, warm and solid in hers. “Stupid seagulls.”

He laughed, arm around her shoulder, pulling her close. “You know they can sense weakness, right? They knew you would leave the food undefended.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Weakness? I’ll show you weakness!”

He dodged her hands as she lunged, trying to tickle him into submission, fingertips gliding under clothes and over smooth skin. They were laughing so loud that the woman at the counter had to yell “NEXT!” six times before she got their attention.

~~~~~

“I am so full!”

Rafael opened his book next to her. “I told you it was good.”

She sprawled out, utterly content. “I’m totally going to go walk it off.”

“Really.”

“Uh huh. After maybe just one tiny nap.”

He laughed, running his hand through her hair, lightly pulling on the drying curls. “Sure thing, Sleeping Beauty.”

She was going to respond, she really was going to, but she was so full and the sun was so warm and the salt in the air was so relaxing that when she opened her eyes again, she was shocked to see that he wasn’t next to her anymore and the sun had moved across the sky, changing the angles of the shadows along the sand.

“Huh? Rafael?”

She looked up, shielding her eyes. He was standing up, looking intently into the ocean.

“Rafael?”

He didn’t seem to hear her, started walking away, when a sharp whistle, three blasts, made her jump. Rafael started running, sprinting to the water as Casey sat up, still groggy. There was a commotion, a yelling, a lifeguard running into the water, Rafael hot on his heels.

“Oh crap.” Casey jumped up, scanning the water, trying to see what they were looking at. She followed, but couldn’t see anything out of place. Another lifeguard, barely a teenager, sprinted by her with a huge plastic stretcher, and Casey realized she had to move.

She followed, racing to the edge of the beach, hand shielding her eyes. She couldn’t see Rafael anymore, almost started yelling for him, when there was a splash, more splashes, and a yell and there he was, he was swimming, then carrying someone, a woman, unconscious, out of the water. Crap.

“Quick.” She grabbed the stretcher, putting in down on the sand for a stable surface. “Rafael, here!” She screamed and waved to him, relieved when he headed her way, moving carefully, cradling the woman’s body, the other lifeguard trailing behind her.

It was like being back at work, the efficiency with which they moved. He lowered the woman onto the stretcher as Casey knelt, two fingers to her neck, ear to her mouth. “No respiration, no pulse.”

Rafael dropped to the ground, ready to step in, but Casey waved him off. “No, you just saved her. I need fresh arms. You.” She pointed to the lifeguard, who cautiously came closer.

“Me?”

“Yes, you. Get over here. You’re on chest compressions. Rafael, get an ambulance here.”

Rafael and the other lifeguard took off, back towards the beach, as Casey turned towards the lifeguard. She originally thought he was in high school but, up close, she wondered if that was an overestimate. How old could you be before you could work? Jesus.

“Do you know CPR?”

“Uhhh...... I mean, I took a class.”

Casey took a deep breath. “I give her two breaths, you do 30 compressions. Right here. Count out loud.”

The lifeguard was turning green. Crap. 

“Hey. We can do this, ok? You ready?” She rubbed his shoulder, trying to transmit some of her calm.

Finally, the lifeguard met her eye. “Ok. We can do this.”

“Good.” Casey tipped her head back, carefully, and delivered two slow, steady breaths, watching the compressions. “One and two and three and-”

All she could do was breath and count and hope that, this time, it would be enough.

~~~~~

She heard the siren wail, the ambulance weaving through the parked cars to get to the street. Rafael wrapped his arms around her waist. “You ok?”

“Yeah...” She let her head drop on his shoulder. “I hope she’s ok.”

He nodded, eyes distantly gazing over her. “They know what they are doing. I think we got her in time.”

“I wish I could have done more,” she frowned.

“Well, you always are taking care of everyone else, your friends, your patients.” He kissed her forehead. “Maybe you should let someone else take care of things for a while.”

She smiled up at him and watched the reflection in the waves, sun low over the water. They stood there, in silence, holding tight to each other in the sea breeze.

“You ready to go?”

“Yeah, I think so.” 

~~~~~

They found their blanket and packed up their things, heading back to the car in comfortable silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Opening the door, she took one last look at the beach, the waves, the sun sinking into the horizon, and got in the car.

“Hey, Rafael?”

“Yeah?”

“This was a perfect day.”

He looked at her. “Uh, besides the woman who almost drowned.”

“And the traffic.”

“And the seagulls.”

She looked at him, watching the setting sun reflect in his eyes.

“Hey, Rafael?”

“Yeah?”

“.......This was a perfect day.”

[hellomissmabel]

Manhattan Mistress part 8

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Bucky x reader, Steve x reader, Tony x reader and OC!Casey (daughter of Y/N and Tony)

Summary: Casey can’t sleep so you tell her a story. Steve turns out to be much more of a bad boy than you initially anticipated. Inspired by “Gangsta“ by Kehlani.

Word count: 4.176

Warnings: Some fluff, definitely some smut, talk of murder and cheating. Foul language too? Please do not read belong the cut if you’re not comfortable with any of forementioned!

A/N: Dedicated to my favourite mob AU writer @caplanbuckybarnes. Enjoy sweetie!

Part 6: the white noise

Part 7: the waiting game

Disclaimer: I do not own this pic, credit goes to the rightful owner.

The heathens

I need a gangsta To love me better Than all the others do To always forgive me Ride or die with me That’s just what gangsters do

It’s 2 a.m. in the morning and I’m contemplating life.

Well, I’m not exactly contemplating my life but more like the mob life in general. After my doctor’s appointment in, let’s say, 6 maybe 7 hours from now, fate will either have screwed me over or given me the greatest gift of all. But what do I have to offer this tiny human being apart from a very fucked up family and even more fucked up friends?

Natasha is an alcoholic and Clint gets off on blood and gore. Sam is a frequent visitor of Fury’s casino’s and an avid gambler, although I’m fairly sure that sooner rather than later he’ll choke on one of his precious peanuts first. As for Wanda, well, who knows what that little bitch is hooked on? Fortune cookies maybe?

What can I say, all my friends are heathens.

The baby’s two potential fathers aren’t much better either. Bucky’s practically a chimney with the way he’s been smoking cigarettes by the dozen these past couple days and Steve’s hunger for power will one day come back to bite him in the ass. My only hope is that my child won’t be a sex addict like her mother, that would bring me at least some small relief.

And God knows what’s on that flash drive I stole from Tony the other week. Every time I think about what I had to do in order to get my hands on it, cold shivers start to run up and down my spine. I swore I would never let that man lay a hand on me again and I broke my oath to myself. He’s neither a good nor a bad person yet all the skeletons I might find when I pay Scott a visit tomorrow might be too much for me to bear. I’m afraid of what I might find.

But I’m even more afraid of the consequences of what I did to obtain this information.

Scott’s a professional Dad but spends his free time playing the role of an ethical hacker. Even though I don’t know Scott that well, he has done some favours for me in the past and I greatly appreciate his help. He also knows that once he dares jeopardize our friendship, he will no longer have enough money to take care of himself, let alone his daughter. He says he found some interesting, highly encrypted files that I might find useful although he wouldn’t disclose anything else and sounded quite hesitant when I confronted him about it. Even so, he is willing to share them with me for a fair price and I also agreed to pay him a bit extra in exchange for his silence.

“Mommy?” A child’s voice disrupts my train of thoughts and I shoot up in my bed, quickly looking over to the other side of the bed to check if I didn’t wake up Steve but he’s still sound asleep, snoring a little and adorably scrunching his nose.

“Yes, Casey? Is everything alright?” My little girl is standing in the doorway, holding her teddy close to her chest and wiggling her feet, big brown eyes peering at me through the dim lighting of the moon.

I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and walk over to her, picking Casey up in my arms and nuzzling my nose in the nape of her neck which makes her giggle just a little. “Did you have another bad dream, honey?”

She doesn’t say anything, just rests her cheek on my shoulder while I carry her downstairs, careful not to make too much noise and startle Steve. I sit her down on the kitchen counter, leaning my forehead against hers as I cup her tiny face in my hands, my thumbs tracing the dimples in her soft cheeks as she laughs.

“Mommy that tickles!,” she titters and I ask her if she’d like me to make her some hot coco. She eagerly nods and as I gather all the ingredients, she tells me about her bad dream. It’s nothing too scary but she’s a little shaken up nonetheless.

“You want to hear a story?,” I propose and she cheers, waving her hands in the air and reaching out for the cup of chocolate milk. “Careful, little bug, it’s hot.”

Sitting down next to her on the kitchen counter, nursing my own mug of the sweet liquid, I begin to tell her the story of how her mommy and daddy met, experience reminding me it’s most likely the only story she’ll want to hear. “When mommy was younger, she was very in love with a boy called James. But you see, your grandfather didn’t like James so he scared him away and made mommy really sad.”

She makes a disappointed sound as tears well up in her eyes. “Mommy don’t be sad,” she pouts and I pull her in for a hug, kissing the crown of her head and murmuring a reassuring “As long as you’re here, little bug, mommy will never be sad.”

After a minute or so I release her, resuming my story. “Then mommy met daddy who was one of your grandfather’s friends. You see, your daddy had been in love with your mommy for a very long time. But he never said anything because mommy is much younger than daddy and daddy was afraid your grandfather would disapprove. He was the only one who saw how unhappy mommy was and he tried to make it better.”

“Did he kiss it better just like you do with all my booboos?,” she asks innocently, eyes wide in eagerness and batting her thick eyelashes at me.

I chuckle softly. “Yes he did. Then mommy fell in love with your daddy too and we were very happy. And just when we thought life couldn’t get any better, we had you.” Casey’s eyes are twinkling with curiosity. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve already told her the story, she always seems to enjoy it more and more.

Nevertheless, there’s a downside to this story, one Casey knows all too well. “But daddy has a very busy job and with daddy work always came first, making mommy very sad again.”

Puckering, her little hands squeeze yours. “Is that why you met Steve? Tell me, mommy, I want to know,” she quips with her adorable childlike enthusiasm.

“You remember Sam’s bar, the Cuckoo’s Nest?” Casey shakes her head yes. “Well, mommy used to be a singer there too when she was younger and that’s how she met Steve. One night he came to see me sing and he paid mommy a big compliment.”

“I told her she had the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard.”

Unbeknownst to you, Steve had woken up shortly after you and Casey went downstairs. He wondered where you had gone and went to take a peek in Casey’s room when he heard your voice. Tiptoeing down the stairs, he remained hidden in the dark shadow of the staircase, eavesdropping on the two of you to see what you were discussing in the middle of the night.

He didn’t like hearing how much you used to love Bucky. The only reason he ever employed the guy is because it’s the only way he could ever keep an eye on him. Steve knows Bucky and his wife are too close for comfort, but there’s nothing he can do about it as long as Tony’s still in the picture. He promised himself that he would get rid of that fucker first before messing with Y/N’s boy toy. However, that doesn’t mean he’s just going to stand idly by when you reminiscence about your lovers Bucky Barnes and Tony Stark. So when you reached the subject of how your first meeting, he decided to intervene.

“You see, I had heard many great stories about your mommy’s voice, but I still wanted to hear it for myself. One night I let the people who were working on my campaign at the time off work early and found myself taking a detour to Sam’s bar. It’s been a while since I had seen him and I wanted to catch up. I didn’t know your mother was going to sing there that evening, but I hoped she would.”

Your little girl is absolutely infatuated with Steve and it awakens a small sting of envy and concern in your chest. It’s understandable that Casey is the apple of Tony’s eye, but the prospect that Steve might be equally besotted with your daughter is something you have never given too much thought. Until now.

“So when Sam noticed just how much Y/N had me under her spell, he asked me if I wanted to meet her in person. Of course I said yes and we spent the entire night talking. Sam even had to kick us out in the end,” Steve says coming to stand behind to you, lacing his arms around your waist and pecking your cheek before resting his chin on the top of your head.

You allow yourself to lean into his broad frame, the comfortable and familiar warmth of his body making you feel at home. A house is not a home until you have someone to come home to, your nanny always used to say. Yet you’re fairly sure your nanny would’ve disagreed with that someone being Steve. She never liked Bucky either and only knew Tony for a brief period of time before she passed away, but she valued her principles more than anything else and if she were still alive, she would’ve smacked you in the face for sleeping with a married man.

Casey holds her hand in front of her mouth, stifling a yawn. “Is my little bug tired?,” Steve coos sweetly and she answers his question with a beaming yet lazy smile, her eyes already falling shut.

“I’ll take her to her room and tuck her in,” Steve suggests, kissing you lightly on the lips before cradling Casey in his arms and carrying her sleepy form upstairs.

You finish your hot coco and follow suit, sliding underneath the duvet and listening to the sounds coming from the room next to the master bedroom. You can make out Steve’s affectionate voice and Casey’s exhausted sniggers, hearing how he promises her to take her out for ice-cream the next day if she has a good night sleep.

I’m fucked up, I’m black and blue I’m built for all the abuse I got secrets that nobody, nobody, nobody knows I’m good on that pussy shit I don’t want what I can get I want someone with secrets that nobody, nobody, nobody knows

A minute or so later, the door to your bedroom creaks open and Steve joins you in the bed. Lazily throwing his arm around you, he rolls you on top of him until your body is draped over his in a warm unison. Your right hand rests on his heart and you can feel the steady beat pulsate underneath your touch. Looking up into Steve’s eyes you catch him smiling down at you.

“You and your daughter,” he whispers tenderly, “Are my girls. I will do whatever is necessary to keep my girls safe.”

“Steve…,” you begin but the soft press of his lips against your forehead silences you.

“I wasn’t finished,” he says gently. “What I’m trying to say is, we have a family here and you never let your family down. I don’t intend to go anywhere, Y/N. Whatever happens, I’ll stick by your side. Whatever decision you make, I’ll wholeheartedly accept it.” By now his voice is slightly breaking. “And I am so sorry for treating you the way I did. I was drunk and I was horny. I love you, Y/N. I love Casey, too. Will you please forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive, my dear,” you sigh, your lips automatically drawn to his when his pleading eyes shine in perplexity at your words.

The kiss slowly comes to a start, hesitation reigning in both your hearts. Steve’s dirty blond tresses are so delicate underneath your fingertips, your hands weaving nonsense patterns into his hair as his mouth gives you open access. Now sliding entirely on top of Steve’s muscular body, he is able to pull you both upwards in one swift motion, tucking your legs around his thighs as you are able to straddle him now.

Your tongue skims his bottom lip, asking for permission to deepen this kiss. It’s then that Steve’s lips move away from yours and you search his eyes for the reason why. “I knew Peggy was wrong about you,” he murmurs into your ear, his teeth nibbling onto your earlobe, lips capturing it into his mouth.

Almost too far gone to properly register what Steve has just said, you swallow a hoarse moan spilling from your lips. One hand gripping his hair tightly, you pull him away from your neck where he is attempting to suck a dark bruise onto the fragile skin of your sweet spot. “Say that again?,” you demand adamantly, tugging at his blond locks so his eyes cannot escape yours.

“I knew Peggy was wrong about you. She was sure you were just a piece of ass to me, sure I would never come running back to you. Peggy was convinced you simply enjoyed taking my cock because no one else would pay any attention to you. But you don’t have to worry about Peggy, sweetheart,” he purrs modestly, brushing some stray curls from your eyes. “She’s dead. She can’t keep us apart anymore.”

“I know, Stevie, I know,” you release in a deep sigh. “Peggy is dead and I am about to fuck her widower. Strange how life works out in the end, isn’t it?” A small smirk appears which Steve takes as a sign to continue his worshipping.

I need a gangsta To love me better Than all the others do To always forgive me Ride or die with me That’s just what gangsters do

He resumes devoting his body to you, teeth tugging at your bottom lip and hands hiking up your night gown. You do not resist as he removes it from you or when his lips suckle on your nipple whilst the fingertips of his free hand pinch the other. You completely let go and throw you head back as his hands cup your sex, alerting you he’s ready for more.

Allowing him to take control, your hands trail down his chiselled abdomen to the hem of his t-shirt as you help him take it off. Sitting back on your calves, Steve is able to shimmy out of his boxer briefs, revealing his rock hard cock. He’s already dripping precum and you lower your head, tying your hair back with one hand so the other can play with his balls while you lick a broad strip from the base of his shaft to the very tip.

“Y/N, I need to be inside of you. N-N-No time for foreplay, hun.”

His voice is strained and you take it as a good sign. “Don’t be vanilla, Stevie” you coo as you hover over his crotch, lining yourself up with his beautifully thick shaft. “Do to me what you could never do with Peggy.”

Steve doesn’t need to be told twice. You can clearly observe the shift in demeanour as the light green specks drowning in his cerulean blue irises visibly light up. “Then get on all fours, baby,” he orders in a domineering tone. “Let your daddy fuck you hard.”

His dick pumps in and out of you at a bruising pace, his fingers digging into the cheeks of your ass as he holds them apart, allowing him a perfect view of his well-endowed manhood ruining your tight cunt. Trying your best to stifle your moans so Casey doesn’t hear what her mommy and Steve are up to this early in the morning, the pillows offers a most welcome distraction.

Steve’s teeth attack your shoulder as he lunges his torso onto your back, lips trailing down your spine in a low growl. He’s close and by the way your pussy is clenching his throbbing penis, you’re on the very brink of your orgasm as well. One hand leaves your soft bottom to play with your clit, his calloused fingertips relentlessly flicking the sensitive bundle of nerves as you bite down hard on your bottom lip, almost drawing blood at the overstimulation of your senses.

Just as you’re about to cum hard on his cock, Steve yanks you by your (Y/H/C) swirls and pulls your back flush against his chest. His left hand remains locked in place on your hip, the other lacing around your throat, turning your head away from him so your neck is exposed to the mercy of his teeth. He soothes the mark immediately after but this moment of tenderness does not last long as the hand that was around your throat, dances lower towards your entrance.

Without much further ado, Steve adds two extra fingers, dipping into you with such force and ferocity the pleasure is overwhelming. He’s testing you, stretching you out to see how much you can take before plummeting into an abysmal state of bliss. Groaning into your ear, Steve whispers an “I love you” knowing it will most likely deliver you the release you have been milking out of him.

Slapping your behind harshly, Steve’s hand on your lower back pushes drives you into the mattress. “Turn around, Y/N. You’ve indulged me, so let me pleasure you now.”

Your arousal quickly gains the upper hand and you roll over onto your back, legs still widely spread and crooking a finger to call Steve over. Kinking an eyebrow in suggestion and seduction, you watch as his hands work his still half-hard cock before lining up at your entrance again. Since all three men you’ve ever laid down with are delectably large, you have no issue taking him in one go, your juices in the aftermath of your first orgasm serving as enough lubricant for the second go.

This time the sex is more intimate. It’s not making love, for that Steve’s too hard on you, but it’s a proper fucking you thoroughly enjoy. Your legs are hooked around his slim waist, one of his hands teasing your breast as the other drawing nonsense pattern underneath your jaw. When you kiss, you do not tangle your fingertips in his hair, rather opting to rake them down his sculpted back and leave a visible red mark.

My freakness is on the loose And running all over you Please, take me to places that nobody, nobody knows You got me hooked up on the feeling You got me hanging from the ceiling Got me up so high I’m barely breathing So don’t let me, don’t let me, don’t let me, don’t let me go

“Go faster, Steve. Don’t hold back on me now,” you encourage breathlessly.

You want him to remember this night just as much as you wanted him to remember the night he forcefully took you without your immediate permission. You want him to commit to memory how good it feels to fuck your woman when you have her consent.

Gasping when he hits your g-spot, you’re about to see stars. “I can be an obedient girl. I can be everything you want me to be,” you heave out in bits and pieces, struggling to form a coherent sentence. Another moan is ripped from your throat as he knocks his pelvis against yours, grunting ferally in approval. “I can be your wife, your mistress and your baby girl. I can even be your whore for fuck’s sake.”

“I don’t need a whore,” he pants into the crook of your neck. “I’m banging the fucking Brooklyn mob boss, why would I ever need a freaking whore.”

Crying out when another wave of cloud nine hits you, your coital haze blurs your line of vision so you can’t see his pearly whites scraping along your cheeks. Feeling his nose caress yours, you peck his lips in a chaste kiss, mainly because you’re unable to do anything else but focus on how he’s pounding into you still.

And then it hits you. “You bastard!,” you exhale loudly over the sound of both of you grunting and grinding in perfect synchronicity, your body remembering every ridge and every valley of Steve’s body. “You knew the whole time!”

He captures your lips in a bruising kiss, his hips jolting forward with a renewed power, laughing darkly at your indignation. Tearing your lips away from his, your fists connect with his firm chest, his thrust faltering just the slightest in anticipation of his orgasm. You continue to punch him but your determination is no match for his strength and he easily pins your hands above your head, a devious grin curling his lips upwards.

“Of course I did, darling,” he chuckles cunningly. Steve’s pupils are lust-blown, the deep black rims have completely absorbed the natural oceanic blue. He leans in closer, sharply snapping his hips and you cry out in ecstasy. “Peggy’s dead and you have me to thank for it.”

His head drops in between the valley of your breasts and you love the soft scratch of his day-old stubble more than you should at this point. Coming undone for the third time that night, Steve tumbles down into the rapture with you. Huffing heavily with the exertion, Steve’s weight settles into your body, the thick vein of his penis still pulsating inside of you.

“That was so good, baby. Please don’t be mad, I did it for us.”

“Get the fuck off me, Rogers,” you grit your teeth. He does as you command, moving over to his side of the bed again, his arm still resting on your bare stomach. The soothing tenor of his laugh is a mixture of recognition and endearment, the bile rising in your throat as your heart still skips a beat at the signature sound.

You sit upright in the bed, prying his arm away from you but Steve doesn’t give up so easily. Suddenly gripping your wrist, he prevents you from leaving the bed. “Y/N, for crying out loud, will you fucking listen to me?”

Snagging your hand away from him when his grasp on you wavers, you bundle the sheets around your exposed chest and turn your head to face him. “Then better start talking. I keep a gun between my stockings, so you are warned.”

“I’ll explain everything to you if you’ll just let me.” He holds his hands up in surrender and you nod in agreement.

Wiping the sweat away from his forehead, the bed dips slightly when he goes to the bathroom to retrieve a wet washing cloth for the both of you. “Here, let me help clean you up first.”

“There’s no way I’m letting you touch me, Steve,” you scowl hot-headedly. “You keep your filthy hands away from me. I can take care of myself, thank you very much.”

His eyebrows knit together in an ugly frown while he sets his right knee down on the edge of the bed, drawing his face closer to yours. “If you want to know the truth, you’ll let me take care of you.” It does not sound like a threat, but there is definitely a warning hidden away in the intimidating tenor to his husky voice.

Laying back on the bed with an annoyed glare, you pull your knees up so Steve can settle between them. His touch is caring and careful as he gingerly wipes away the excess arousal. “You know,” he says in a teasing tone when he finishes up, “It’s been a while since I’ve tasted you.”

“Oh fuck off,” you throw back at him, cocking your head so your eyes do not fall on his hands tending to his own member with a second washing cloth, throwing it in the bathroom sink on his way over to the bed.

“I love you, Y/N, don’t you for a second doubt that,” he starts off his soliloquy with a plea. “I never intended to keep this from you, but if you must know all my secrets, I am willing to tell you everything. I don’t want them to create a wedge between us. But you have to promise me that you won’t kill me.”

“I can’t promise you a thing,” you spit out. “You’re lucky I haven’t kicked you out yet. I don’t want a killer near my daughter.”

He releases a bouldering laugh. “You don’t want a killer near your daughter?” He shakes his head, a wicked grin adorning his darkened features. “Oh doll, you have no idea, do you? You have no idea what kind of man I am, what kind of man you love.”

Part 9: the killers

@mellifluous-melodramas @mrshopkirk @winterboobaer @kiwi71281 @a-little-hell-to-raise @unpredictable-firecracker @marvelingatthewonder @emilyinwonderland3 @hardcorehippos @iiharu-kunii @knittingknerdy @winterwolf57 @dontbeamenacetotheforce @shamvictoria11 @theoneandonlysaucymo @bovaria @marvel-lucy @marvel-ash @thedragonblood @movingonto-betterthings @blacwings-and-bucky-barnes @marveliskindacool @redroomproperty @feelmyroarrrr @imamotherfuckingstar-lord @seargantbcky @seeyainanotherlifebrotha @meatballevan @amrita31199

[blackkudos]

Natalie Cole

Natalie Maria Cole (February 6, 1950 – December 31, 2015) was an American singer, songwriter, and actress. The daughter of Nat King Cole, she rose to musical success in the mid-1970s as an R&B artist with the hits "This Will Be", "Inseparable" (1975), and "Our Love" (1977). After a period of failing sales and performances due to a heavy drug addiction, Cole re-emerged as a pop artist with the 1987 album Everlasting and her cover of Bruce Springsteen's "Pink Cadillac". In the 1990s, she re-recorded standards by her father, resulting in her biggest success, Unforgettable... with Love, which sold over seven million copies and also won Cole numerous Grammy Awards. She sold over 30 million records worldwide.

On December 31, 2015, Cole died at the age of 65 at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center in Los Angeles, California, due to congestive heart failure.

Early life

Natalie Cole was born at Cedars of Lebanon Hospital in Los Angeles, the daughter of crooner Nat King Cole and former Duke Ellington Orchestra singer Maria Hawkins Ellington, and raised in the affluent Hancock Park district of Los Angeles. Regarding her childhood, Cole referred to her family as "the black Kennedys" and was exposed to many great singers of jazz, soul and blues. At the age of 6, Natalie sang on her father's Christmas album and later began performing at age 11.

Cole grew up with an older adopted sister, Carole "Cookie" (1944–2009) (her mother Maria's younger sister's daughter), adopted brother Nat "Kelly" Cole (1959–95), and younger twin sisters Timolin and Casey (born 1961).

Her paternal uncle Freddy Cole is a singer and pianist with numerous albums and awards. Cole enrolled in Northfield School for Girls, an elite New England preparatory school (since 1971 known as Northfield Mount Hermon School) before her father died of lung cancer in February 1965. Soon afterwards she began having a difficult relationship with her mother. She enrolled in the University of Massachusetts Amherst. She transferred briefly to University of Southern California where she pledged the Upsilon chapter of Delta Sigma Theta sorority. She later transferred back to the University of Massachusetts, where she majored in Child Psychology and minored in German, graduating in 1972.

Music career

Early career

Cole grew up listening to a variety of artists from soul artists such as Aretha Franklin to psychedelic blues-rock icon Janis Joplin. After graduation she began singing at small clubs with her band, Black Magic. Clubs initially welcomed her because she was Nat King Cole's daughter, only to be disappointed when she began covering R&B and rock numbers. While performing, she was noted by a couple of producers in the Chicago area, Chuck Jackson and Marvin Yancy, who then approached her to do records. After cutting several records together, they passed off the music to several record labels. Most labels turned them down with one exception. Capitol Records, her father's label, heard the records and agreed to sign her.

Cole, Yancy, and Jackson went into studios in Los Angeles to polish the recordings they had shipped, resulting in the release of Cole's debut album, Inseparable, which included songs that reminded listeners of Aretha Franklin. In fact, Franklin later contended that songs such as "This Will Be", "I Can't Say No", and others were originally offered to her while she was recording the You album. Franklin turned most of the songs down but agreed to record the title track for her album. Cole also recorded "You". Released in 1975, the album became an instant success thanks to "This Will Be", which became a top ten hit and later winning Cole a Grammy Award for Best Female R&B Vocal Performance. A second single, "Inseparable", also became a hit. Both songs reached number-one on the R&B chart. Cole also won Best New Artist at the Grammy Awards for her accomplishments. The media's billing of Cole as the "new Aretha Franklin" inadvertently started a rivalry between the two singers.

Initial stardom

Becoming an instant star, Cole responded to critics of an impending sophomore slump with Natalie, released in 1976. The album, like Inseparable, became a gold success thanks to the funk-influenced cut "Sophisticated Lady" and the jazz-influenced "Mr. Melody".

Cole released her first platinum record with her third release, Unpredictable, mainly thanks to the number-one R&B hit, "I've Got Love on My Mind". Originally an album track, the album's closer, "I'm Catching Hell", nonetheless became a popular Cole song during live concert shows. Later in 1977, Cole issued her fourth release and second platinum album, Thankful, which included another signature Cole hit, "Our Love". Cole was the first female artist to have two platinum albums in one year. To capitalize on her fame, Cole starred on her own TV special, which attracted such celebrities as Earth, Wind & Fire, and also appeared on the TV special, "Sinatra and Friends." In 1978, Cole released her first live album, Natalie Live!

In early 1979, the singer was awarded a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. That same year, she released two more albums, I Love You So and the Peabo Bryson duet album, We're the Best of Friends. Both albums reached gold status in the U.S. continuing her popularity.

Career detour and resurgence

Following the release of her eighth album, 1980's Don't Look Back, Cole's career began to take a detour. While Cole scored an adult contemporary hit with the soft rock ballad "Someone That I Used To Love" off the album, the album itself failed to go gold. In 1981, Cole's personal problems, including battles with drug addiction, began to attract public notice, and her career suffered as a result. In 1983, following the release of her album I'm Ready, released on Epic, Cole entered a rehab facility in Connecticut and reportedly stayed there for a period of six months.

Following her release, she signed with the Atco imprint Modern Records and released Dangerous, which started a slow resurgence for Cole in terms of record sales and chart success. In 1987, she changed to EMI-Manhattan Records and released the album Everlasting, which returned her to the top of the charts thanks to singles such as "Jump Start (My Heart)", the top ten ballad, "I Live For Your Love", and her dance-pop cover of Bruce Springsteen's "Pink Cadillac". That success helped Everlasting reach one million in sales and become Cole's first platinum album in ten years. In 1989, she released her follow-up to Everlasting, Good to Be Back, which produced the number two hit "Miss You Like Crazy"; it also achieved international success, reaching the top ten in the United Kingdom.

Cole released her best-selling album with 1991's Unforgettable... with Love on Elektra Records, which saw Cole singing songs her famous father recorded, nearly 20 years after she initially had refused to cover her father's songs during live concerts. Cole produced vocal arrangements for the songs, with piano accompaniment by her uncle Ike Cole. Cole's label released an interactive duet between Cole and her father on the title song, "Unforgettable". The song eventually reached number fourteen on the Billboard Hot 100 and number ten on the R&B chart, going gold. Unforgettable...with Love eventually sold more than 7 million copies in the U.S. alone and won several Grammys, including Album of the Year, Record of the Year and Best Traditional Pop Vocal Performance for the top song.

Cole followed that success with another album of jazz standards, titled Take a Look, in 1993, which included her recording of the title track in the same styling that her idol Aretha Franklin had recorded nearly 30 years earlier. The album eventually went gold while a holiday album, Holly & Ivy, also became gold. Another standards release, Stardust, went platinum and featured another duet with her father on a modern version of "When I Fall in Love", which helped Cole earn another Grammy for Best Pop Collaboration with Vocals.

Later works

In 1999, Cole returned to her 1980s-era urban contemporary recording style with the release of Snowfall on the Sahara on June and second holiday album The Magic of Christmas on October, which recorded with London Symphony Orchestra. A year later, the singer collaborated on the production of her biopic, Livin' For Love: The Natalie Cole Story, which featured Theresa Randle in the role of Cole. She also released the compilation Greatest Hits, Vol. 1 to fulfill her contract with Elektra. She changed to Verve Records and released two albums. 2002's Ask a Woman Who Knows continued her jazz aspirations, while 2006's Leavin' again featured Cole singing pop, rock and R&B standards. Her cover of Aretha Franklin's "Daydreaming", became a minor hit on the R&B charts. In 2008, seventeen years after Unforgettable... with Love, Cole released Still Unforgettable, which included not only songs made famous by her father but other artists, including Frank Sinatra. The album later resulted in Grammy wins for Cole.

In April 2012, she appeared as a Pennington Great Performers series artist with the Baton Rouge Symphony Orchestra.

Television and film career

Cole carved out a secondary career in acting. She also appeared several times in live concerts or other music related programs, including the 1988 Nelson Mandela 70th Birthday Tribute with sidemen Richard Campbell, Jeffrey Worrell, Eddie Cole and Dave Joyce. In 1990, she (along with jazz vocalist Al Jarreau) sang the song "Mr. President" (written by Ray Reach, Mike Loveless and Joe Sterling) on HBO's Comic Relief special, hosted by Whoopi Goldberg, Robin Williams and Billy Crystal. After Johnny Mathis appeared on a special of Cole's in 1980, the two kept in contact, and in 1992, he invited Cole to be a part of his television special titled "A Tribute To Nat Cole" for BBC-TV in England. It had high viewer ratings and was successful. From that project, an album with the same name was released, and featured several medley and solo numbers.

In 1992, following the success of the Unforgettable: With Love album, PBS broadcast a special based on the album. Unforgettable, With Love: Natalie Cole Sings the Songs of Nat "King" Cole received Emmy nominations for Outstanding Variety, Music or Comedy Program; and Cole received a nomination for Outstanding Individual Performance, losing to Bette Midler.

In 1993, she was among the Guests of Honor attending Wrestlemania IX at Caesar's Palace, Las Vegas, Nevada. She was interviewed by television staff after the conclusion of the Money Incorporated vs Megamaniacs tag team match regarding her upcoming work. The same year she performed at the 65th Academy Awards performing a medley of two Oscar-nominated songs: "Run to You" and "I Have Nothing", both originally performed by Whitney Houston in The Bodyguard.

Cole made a number of dramatic appearances on television, including guest appearances on I'll Fly Away, Touched by an Angel, and Law & Order: Special Victims Unit. In 2006, she made a memorable guest appearance on the ABC show Grey's Anatomy as a terminally ill patient. Her character visited Seattle Grace Hospital to have a fork removed from her neck that her husband had stabbed her with during a mishap; the couple had been having sex in public.

Cole also made several appearances in feature films, most recently in the Cole Porter biopic De-Lovely. She appeared in several made-for-TV movies, most notably as the lead in Lily in Winter. Cole was featured on Macy Gray's album Big, singing "Finally Make Me Happy".

In 2001, she starred as herself in Livin' for Love: the Natalie Cole Story, for which she received the NAACP Image Award for Outstanding Actress in a Television Movie, Mini-Series or Dramatic Special.

She also sang the national anthem with the Atlanta University Center Chorus at Super Bowl XXVIII.

On December 2, 2006, Cole performed for the first time in Grand Cayman, Cayman Islands, as part of the annual Cayman Jazz Fest.

On the February 5, 2007, episode of Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip, Cole sang "I Say a Little Prayer" at a benefit dinner for Harriet Hayes (Sarah Paulson).

She can also be seen in the last scene of Nas' music video for "Can't Forget About You". The song uses a sample of her father's song "Unforgettable". Cole is sitting at a piano in a cabaret-style lounge mouthing her father's song with Nas standing beside her.

Cole also performed "Something's Gotta Give" on American Idol on April 29, 2009.

In September 2010, Cole performed with Andrea Bocelli in a concert at the Kodak Theatre, for his album My Christmas, in which she recorded a duet with him, and from December 10–13, 2009, she appeared with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir and Orchestra at Temple Square in their annual Christmas concerts. Both were videotaped for presentation on PBS in December 2010.

On July 22, 2011, Cole appeared on the reality television series, The Real Housewives of New York City.

In February 2012, Cole appeared as a guest judge on the fourth series of reality competition series RuPaul's Drag Race. The bottom two competitors lip-synced to her song This Will Be (An Everlasting Love) to decide who would stay and who would be eliminated.

On Father’s Day, 2013, Natalie was in Tina Sinatra's Father’s Day Special on Sirius Radio. It also featured Deana Martin, Monica Mancini and Daisy Torme, all reminiscing about their famous fathers.

Personal life

Cole was married three times. She married Marvin Yancy, songwriter, producer and former member of the 1970s R&B group The Independents on July 31, 1976. She had a son, Robert Adam "Robbie" Yancy (born October 14, 1977); he is now a musician who toured with her. Marvin was her producer, and an ordained Baptist minister who helped reintroduce her to religion. Under his influence, Cole changed from a lapsed Episcopalian to become a devout Baptist. Cole and Yancy got divorced in 1980 before Yancy died of a heart attack in 1985, aged 34. In 1989, Cole married record producer and former drummer for the band Rufus, Andre Fischer; they were divorced in 1995. In 2001, Cole married bishop Kenneth Dupree; they divorced in 2004.

Cole was active in the Afghan World Foundation cause, supporting Sonia Nassery Cole (no relation).

Drug abuse and recovery

In 2000, Cole released an autobiography, Angel on My Shoulder, which described her battle with drugs during much of her life, including heroin and crack cocaine. Cole said she began recreational drug use while attending the University of Massachusetts Amherst. She was arrested in Toronto, Canada, for possession of heroin in 1975. Cole continued to spiral out of control – including one incident during which she refused to evacuate a burning building, and another during which her young son Robert nearly drowned in the family swimming pool while she was on a drug binge. She entered rehab in 1983.

Her autobiography was released in conjunction with a made-for-TV movie, Livin' for Love: The Natalie Cole Story, which aired December 10, 2000 on NBC and re-aired October 26, 2011, on Centric TV.

Health issues

Cole announced in 2008 that she had been diagnosed with Hepatitis C, which is a liver disease that is spread through contact with infected blood. Cole attributed having the disease to her past intravenous drug use. Cole explained in 2009 that hepatitis C “stayed in my body for 25 years, and it could still happen to...addicts who are fooling around with drugs, especially needles.”

Four months after starting treatment for hepatitis C, Cole experienced kidney failure and required dialysis three times a week for nine months. Following her appeal for a kidney on the Larry King Show, she was contacted by the organ procurement agency One Legacy, in May 2009. The facilitated donation came from a family requesting that, if there were a match, their donor’s kidney be designated for Cole.

Death and funeral

Cole canceled several events in December 2015 due to illness. It was reported on January 1, 2016, that she had died the day prior at Cedars-Sinai Medical Center in Los Angeles. Her family stated that at the time of her death, Cole had "ongoing health issues". According to Cole's publicist, Maureen O’Connor, the singer's death was the result of congestive heart failure.

In official news on her cause of death, her family stated that Cole was diagnosed with idiopathic pulmonary arterial hypertension after her kidney transplant in 2009.

Cole's son, along with her sisters, offered the following comment. "Natalie fought a fierce, courageous battle, dying how she lived ... with dignity, strength and honor. Our beloved mother and sister will be greatly missed and remain unforgettable in our hearts forever."

Cole's funeral was held on January 11, 2016, at the West Angeles Church of God in Christ in Los Angeles. David Foster, Stevie Wonder, Smokey Robinson, Lionel Richie, Chaka Khan, Eddie Levert, Mary Wilson, Gladys Knight, Ledisi, Jesse Jackson, Angela Bassett, Denise Nicholas, Marla Gibbs, Jackée Harry and Freda Payne were among the mourners at the funeral. After the funeral, she was buried at Forest Lawn Memorial Park in Glendale, California.

Accolades and honorsGrammy Awards

The Grammy Awards are awarded annually by the National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences. Cole received nine awards from 21 nominations.

Latin Grammys

The Latin Grammy Awards are awarded annually by the Latin Academy of Recording Arts & Sciences.

Wikipedia

[docjanefoster]

Environmental Analysis

In the beginning, Jane constantly questioned her decision to buy such a large apartment. Hosting was never her forte simply due to lacking consistent friendships. Little did she know that her apartment would soon become the haven to broken souls.

Character Mentions: Natasha Romanoff, Casey Jones, Clint Barton, Thor, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Dinah Lance, Bruce Banner, Tony Stark, Stephen Strange, Darcy Lewis, Kate Bishop  `*` Okay, so this information was brought to by a technique I refer to as "word vomit" or the "follow method". How it works is that I grab hold to a concept and simply write without self judgement about the topic. This information has not been edited or grammatically corrected. It is raw writing that I've decided to share because it gives a better understanding of both how I write and the character's environment. I hope you enjoy this and don't cringe too much! `*`

I.                Living Area

A.    Sofa: in the shape of an ‘L’. Long enough for a lot of people to occupy and a piece just big enough to curl up on for naps. A coffee table of course matching it. One she never stops reminding Clint to get his feet off.

B.    A record player: siting in the corner. Jane loves letting music take over her soul in times of stress. Putting a record on and swaying to the tunes is a common cure to help wash away her issues, if only temporarily. Steve’s first visit was a tad bit awkward due to it being simply the two of them. It was before their tight friendship had formed, but the ice quickly melted with the recognition of certain vinyl pieces. Although the man has more than enough money, he refuses to buy one. This gives him the excuse to visit Jane and use hers. He once asked her “What’s the point in listening to it alone? This was an album solely for dancing with a partner, and this one is sad. No need for that with a friend around.”

C.    The recliner: frequently occupied by Thor. Being amazed with the ways of Midgard, Thor loved wandering and Jane had to keep up. Alas, a furniture store was visited and a chair ‘fit for the best’ was purchased.

D.    The library: containing all sorts of medical books. As a woman of science and of the healthcare field, she’s obtained numerous original copies and signed duplicates of books for her collection. Although few and far in between due to clashing schedules, she and Stephen enjoy intellectual conversations about the human mind and body. It is a nice breath of fresh air to the doctor to be able to speak “nerd” as Dinah calls it.

II.              Kitchen

E.     On the island: a vase that always has flowers in it, the day’s mail

F.     On the rear counter: cookie jar for the homemade type and for Oreo’s, containers for sugar and flour. Jane has always enjoyed cooking, but baking is her specialty. Office Christmas parties are always a hit with her food on the treats table., a Keurig because she a full blown coffee addict

G.    On the wall: shelves - cookbooks, various spice plants (lavender, basil, mint, thyme, etc.) ; other- dog calendar, analog clock

H.    On top of the fridge: absolutely nothing because she’s a shorty who can’t reach anything that high.

I.      On the floor: a Rumba from a gold elephant exchange one year, stove mat that provides comfort and stability for long periods of cooking.

III.            Dining Area

A.    Breakfast table: because no way is there enough room to fit an entire dining set in that little space. If she is hosting more than three visitors, people sit at the island, on the staircase, or on the living room furniture. Sometimes guests even sit on the floor, which makes Jane feel terrible, but they always reassure her.  - Typical seating arrangement:  table, a calmer environment- Jane, Steve, Bucky, and Dinah;  staircase, more chaotic due to Darcy prodding at the wonders of Doctor Strange- Casey, Stephen, and Darcy;  living area, full of hearty laughs and old stories- Thor in the recliner, Tony and Bruce on the couch;  island, a place of bets and of jokes- Clint, Natasha, and Kate The breakfast table is her favorite place in the house, even surpassing her personal office.

IV.            Staircase

A.    Details: spiral, beautifully refurbished from the fire house the apartment once was

V.              Bathroom

A.    Shower or Tub? Combined, bubble baths and bath bombs are the best after a long day in the operating room

B.    Counter usage? Minimal makeup due to not having a need for it on a daily basis.

C.    Details: lots of natural lighting like the rest of the apartment

VI.            Bedroom

A.    Bed: king size, sold to her by the last tenants. Getting swallowed by the huge fluffy blankets is satisfying to the woman.

B.    Dresser space: a small bottle of perfume, candles (one of her favorite gifts to receive), a coffee mug with a science pun on it, pictures

C.    Walls: large, horizontal mirror, another bookshelf that is smaller for her most prized pieces of her collection

D.    Memoirs: a vase that Thor brought her from Asgard, family pictures, a keychain from London when she was sent over to work with MI6’s medical division (little did she know that she’d be the one going undercover, but that’s a different story. Let’s just say, Q wasn’t happy when she broke his new prototype on ACCIDENT.), an I<3NY sweatshirt from Bucky (he spilled coffee on her blouse that day and there was no way he could let her walk around in a coffee stained white shirt that slowly became see-through); her first pair of fishnets from Dinah because “every wardrobe is incomplete without some.”

E.     TV: there isn’t one in the bedroom. In order to get the best night’s rest possible, she turns off all devices an hour before bed. To keep the temptation of “another episode” away, she simply does not have a TV in the same room.

F.     Closet: a walk-in closet that is unfortunately pretty barren. Jane doesn’t get out much, so there is no need for fancy attire. Scrubs are the daily and why would anyone not want to wear sweats on their days off?

VII.         Balcony

A.    Placement: fifth floor. Jane can’t stand overhead noise. It drives her insane and takes her back to her college days when the dorm was constantly loud and obnoxious.

B.    Usage: She enjoys gazing at the skyline when she’s unsure on something. Going out to the balcony is her automatic reaction to a situation involving making a big decision., every now and again she’ll be visited by Peter Parker swinging through. She’s not a stranger to giving the young boy advice and even dinner to-go.

VIII.       Personal Office

A.    Details: extremely organized. floor to ceiling windows for maximum escape into her work, giant periodic table poster on the wall, ANOTHER BOOKSHELF for work related files and whatnot, a small cot for taking care of injured patients (It’s not like her connections and just waltz into an ER. More than once has Steve stated he prefers Jane over the SHIELD doctors, but that’s when he gets over being stubborn and actually visits one for any injuries. The same case applies to Natasha. The red head could obviously take care of herself, though, but this gives the two women a chance to spend time together. How unfortunate the circumstances.)

[sherristockman]

Mental Turmoil: Depression Treatment Drives Users to Murder, Suicide Dr. Mercola By Dr. Mercola After taking GlaxoSmithKline’s Paxil for just two days, retired oilman Don Schell brutally murdered his wife, daughter and 10-month-old granddaughter in the middle of the night before turning the gun on himself. The murders, which took place in 1998 in Gillette, Wyoming, shocked neighbors who couldn’t understand why Schell, who had no history of violence, appeared to have spontaneously killed the people in his life he loved the most.1 The bodies were discovered the following afternoon by Tim Tobin, the husband of Schell’s daughter Deb. After overcoming the shock of discovering such a gruesome scene, Tobin and other family members started to piece together what may have happened. The only thing that stood out was that Schell, who was a doting grandfather, had started taking Paxil just two days before the killings. At the time of the killing, he had taken just two tablets. Could Paxil have been responsible for driving Schell to murder his family? The featured film, “The Secrets of Seroxat,” explores the dark and tormenting side-effects of Paxil (known as Seroxat in the U.K.) and GSK’s attempt to conceal the drug’s negative effects. Paxil, the second most prescribed antidepressant next to Prozac, belongs to a class of drugs known as selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors (SSRIs).2 SSRIs, mind-altering drugs designed to enhance serotonin levels in the brain, are prescribed for depression and a number of other conditions including anxiety, worry, irritability, muscle tension and fatigue. A Craving for Antidepressants Some say antidepressants have helped them live normal lives. Others say the drugs are nothing short of a terrible nightmare. The featured film dives into the details of Paxil, interviewing users who report horrible side effects including self-harm and unbearable withdrawal symptoms. The film also follows the landmark court case that found GSK and its antidepressant Paxil responsible for causing Schell to murder his family. The first story is of 22-year-old Helen Kelsall, who was prescribed Paxil for panic attacks. After being on the drug for more than four years, Kelsall decided she wanted to come off it. But when she tried, she suffered intense symptoms of withdrawal including headaches, muscle cramps, nausea, sweating, trembling and feelings of electric shock in her head. The drug’s maker, GSK, insists that withdrawal symptoms subside and that addiction to Paxil is an impossibility. In fact, that’s one of the drug’s strongest selling points. But many Paxil users, including Kelsall, disagree. In 2001, GSK was hit with a major lawsuit by plaintiffs who claimed they became chronically addicted to Paxil after being prescribed the drug for mild depression or anxiety. The dozens of plaintiffs, among which included a website designer, bank fraud investigator and senior air force officer, say that upon trying to quit Paxil they “suffered violent and disturbing symptoms, including jolting pains in the head, vertigo, loss of coordination, abdominal discomfort, flu symptoms, agitation and confusion,” according to The Guardian.3 Like Kelsall, the plaintiffs allege they were never informed about the possibility of becoming addicted to Paxil. The Nightmare You Cannot Wake Up From Kelsall’s Paxil story is captured on video as the young woman documents her journey to quit the drug, videotaping her most unbearable symptoms of withdrawal. Kelsall, who during the film is in the third year of her master’s degree, says the higher education she’s worked so hard for is at risk of being ripped away due to her addiction to Paxil. “As I take each step, there’s a shock in my head that’s completely throwing me off balance,” says Kelsall. Her withdrawal symptoms are so severe she’s forced to taper off the drug slowly rather than stop it completely. “Quitting makes me incredibly sick,” says Kelsall, who is shown cutting the potent drug in half in an effort to gradually decrease her intake. “If I knew this drug was addictive or was capable of causing the horrible side effects I now endure, I never would have taken it,” she says. As awful as the withdrawal symptoms are, other symptoms are even more concerning, including the ones Schell is believed to have suffered before hurting his beloved family. Paxil, like other SSRIs, is also linked to self-harm and suicidal and homicidal behavior. Ed Casey was in a band and recording singles when he started taking Paxil. Life was mostly good, except that, at times, Casey suffered from low self-esteem and bouts of depression. His doctors prescribed him Paxil, after which he began to change, becoming more introverted and moody. After just two weeks on the drug, Casey started showing signs of self-harm. He began to mutilate himself, burning cigarettes into his arms and slicing his flesh with razor blades. The behavior was new. Casey had never hurt himself before or had thoughts of hurting himself — that is until he started taking Paxil. When the Cure Is Worse Than the Original Complaint Other Paxil users, including healthy people with no history of depression, have experienced similar feelings of mental turmoil — a worrisome symptom GSK not only knew about, but declined to reveal. After the death of his wife and child, Tobin sued GSK, alleging that Paxil led Schell to kill his family. The drug company placed blame on Schell’s depression, denying any link between Paxil, aggressive behavior and homicidal tendencies. The lawsuit brought documents to light that GSK had kept secret for 15 years. A trove of archived files of clinical trial results was hidden away in Essex, a county east of England. The files detailed clinical trial results of Paxil on healthy people, in other words, individuals with no history of anxiety or depression. Dr. David Healy, an expert on SSRIs and director at North Wales Department of Psychological Medicine, was called in to review the files. Healy had been involved in another study looking at adverse effects of an SSRI similar to Paxil on healthy people. The study was conducted on healthy volunteers, which included general practitioners, senior nurses and consultant psychiatrists working in the North Wales Department of Psychological Medicine. What he observed is that when people were given the wrong drug, they went through a state of mental turmoil, ultimately becoming suicidal. Healy wondered if Paxil could have similar effects. Guilty of Murder The warehouse of archived files — some of which were missing — contained more than 250,000 sheets of paper. The task of learning what was in those files proved overwhelming. Still, in just two days, Healy read all of the documents outlining the effects of Paxil on healthy people. Some who went on the drug had no problems while others ended up in a state of mental turmoil; 1 in 4 suffered these side effects, even on normal doses and when taken for only a few days. Healy learned healthy people also suffered withdrawal symptoms when quitting Paxil — and GSK was well aware of it. Up to 85 percent of volunteers taking the drug for a matter of weeks suffered withdrawal, the documents showed. Healy’s conclusion? It wasn’t depression that made Schell murder his family. It was Paxil. The jurors agreed. To his surprise, Tobin won his lawsuit against GSK and was awarded $6.4 million in damages. It wasn’t the money Tobin was after, but rather the clearing of his step-father’s name, and hope that the verdict would protect others from falling victim to the same fate of his family. Tobin said: “I really just did want to win, to say, OK, the drugs did do it — what's everyone going to do now? And of course, there's been nothing. I honestly believe until it's somebody of importance it will be very difficult to get any changes. Here I am, a simple man from Montana. I'm not exceptionally rich or famous or anything. Who's going to listen to me?” Despite Guilty Verdict, It’s Business as Usual Despite losing the case, GSK maintains that there’s no evidence Paxil causes violence, aggression or homicide. Representatives for GSK are more concerned about the company than the welfare of people going on their drug, says the film’s narrator. After the verdict, GSK added a warning to the patient leaflets in Britain. However, the label avoided any mention of the link between Paxil and suicidal thoughts. Instead it read: “Occasionally, the symptoms of depression may include thoughts of harming yourself or committing suicide. Until the full antidepressant effect of your medicine becomes apparent, these symptoms may increase in the first few weeks of treatment.” Today, it’s business as usual for GSK, which filled some 15 million prescriptions for Paxil and paroxetine (a generic version of the drug) in the U.S. last year. One in 10 adolescents and adults aged 12 and over has filled a prescription for an antidepressant, and 1 in 7 adults over the age of 40 has done the same.4 GSK has paid out more than $1 billion to settle more than 800 different lawsuits related to Paxil, in addition to a $3 billion settlement with the U.S. Department of Justice for the illegal marketing of Paxil and other drugs. Yet Paxil has remained a “staple” in the psychiatrist’s arsenal. Offering Kids Candy to Take Antidepressants? Rather than address the issues associated with Paxil, GSK is looking to expand its prescription base, eying children as its newest customer. Children are being recruited right here in the U.S. to serve as test subjects for dangerous antidepressants and SSRI medications. The film features a private clinic in Texas called Bayou City Research, which conducts pharmaceutical research and trials on children and adolescents. Bayou City Research advertises for children through ads in the local newspaper, offering free cookies, travel reimbursements and, of course, free psychotropic drugs. In 2001, American child psychiatrist, Dr. Neal D. Ryan completed a GSK-funded study known as “Study 329,” on kids using Paxil.5 The good news, he said, is that depressed children did better on Paxil than an older drug and those who took sugar pills. The bad news? Ten out of the 93 children studied suffered serious psychiatric problems within weeks of going on the drug — and most of them had to be hospitalized. Five of the 93 children had suicidal thoughts and gestures, while another five had serious psychiatric side effects. Despite such findings, rather than warn doctors about side effects such as suicide, GSK has encouraged them to prescribed Paxil to teens and children, citing their own research showing the drug is safe and effective for teens. Industry Research Refuted by New Study Reanalysis of the original data in Study 329 found that Paxil was neither safe nor effective for teens. In fact, its effectiveness, both clinically and statistically, was right on par with placebo. It also found that serious side effects such as suicidal tendencies were mislabeled and misrepresented. As it turns out, the elevated risk for suicidal ideation was only gleaned by digging into the actual patient files, where the exact nature of the behavior was recorded. In terms of harms, the difference between Paxil and placebo was “striking,” according to the researchers. Severe adverse events were 260 percent more frequent on Paxil compared to placebo, psychiatric adverse events were 400 percent more frequent, and suicide was 10,300 percent more frequent. During the eight-week-long study, 11 individuals in the Paxil group engaged in suicidal behavior, compared to just one in the placebo group. Despite evidence of harm in children and adolescents, preschoolers and children 18 and younger are the fastest growing group on antidepressants.6 As for adults, 1 in 6 Americans is prescribed some type of psychiatric drug; the majority of which are on the drugs for the long term.7 Natural Options for Treating Depression Fortunately, there are many other ways to deal with anxiety and depression that do not involve unsafe drugs. There's a growing acceptance that the mind-body connection is very real, and that maintaining good physical health can significantly lower your risk of developing depression in the first place. Here are several strategies that have been shown to be helpful: Dramatically decrease your consumption of sugar (particularly fructose), grains and processed foods. (In addition to being high in sugar and grains, processed foods also contain a variety of additives that can affect your brain function and mental state, especially MSG and artificial sweeteners such as aspartame.) There's a great book on this subject, “Sugar Blues,” written by American writer and news desk assistant editor William Dufty more than 30 years ago, that delves into the topic of sugar and mental health in great detail. Increase consumption of probiotic foods such as fermented vegetables and kefir made from raw, grass fed milk, to promote healthy gut flora. Mounting evidence tells us that having a healthy gut is profoundly important for both physical and mental health, and the latter can be severely impacted by an imbalance of intestinal bacteria. Avoiding sugar will also help toward this end. This is especially important during pregnancy, because if mother's flora is abnormal, her baby's flora will also be abnormal. Get adequate vitamin B12. Vitamin B12 deficiency can contribute to depression and affects 1 in 4 people. Optimize your vitamin D level, ideally through regular sun exposure. Vitamin D is very important for your mood. In one study, people with the lowest levels of vitamin D were found to be 11 times more prone to depression than those who had normal levels. Get plenty of animal-based omega-3 fats. DHA and EPA are crucial for good brain function and mental health. Unfortunately, most people don't get enough from diet alone. If you do not regularly eat wild-caught salmon, sardines or anchovies, consider taking a high-quality animal-based omega-3 fat such as krill oil. Dr. Andrew L. Stoll, a Harvard psychiatrist, was one of the early leaders in compiling the evidence supporting the use of animal based omega-3 fats for the treatment of depression. He wrote an excellent book that details his experience in this area called "The Omega-3 Connection: The Groundbreaking Antidepression Diet and Brain Program." Evaluate your salt intake. Sodium deficiency actually creates symptoms that are very much like those of depression. Make sure you do not use processed salt (regular table salt), however. You'll want to use an all-natural, unprocessed salt like Himalayan salt, which contains more than 80 different micronutrients. Get adequate daily exercise, including high-intensity exercise, which is one of the most effective strategies for preventing and overcoming depression. Studies on exercise as a treatment for depression have shown there is a strong correlation between improved mood and aerobic capacity. Get adequate amounts of sleep. You can have the best diet and exercise program possible, but if you aren't sleeping well you can easily become depressed. Sleep and depression are so intimately linked that a sleep disorder is actually part of the definition of the symptom complex that gives the label depression.

[openheartfanfics]

OHFFs Advent Calendar: Day 18

Candy Cane

Submitted by @chocopeppermintcake

Pairing: Bryce x F!MC (Casey Valentine) Summary: Casey points out that they potentially have a Christmas tradition. Word Count: 1.4k Rating/Category: M-ish (making out) / fluff Tropes: supply closet

The world is blurring, melting away like the Christmas cookies did on his tongue after baking them with the friend group a few days prior, like the chocolate he had licked off of Casey’s finger while decorating them. And now everything feels like tasting something sweet mixed with the warmth of cinnamon and a dash of chili; exciting and cozy all at once, Bryce’s day suddenly a little brighter.

It's not as though he's having a bad day, the complicated surgery he just finished a success, but right now, with her hair falling around his fingers like a velvety veil, simultaneously keeping him grounded and encouraging him to get lost in the heavenly feeling, and her lips needily seeking out his, he feels like he's flying. Like he's jumping full of adrenaline to dunk the basketball and score the winning point, like he's falling out of an airplane, not quite ready to open the parachute just yet.

Still, he's gasping for air when Casey’s lips first graze his cheek and then leave a trail of kisses on his neck, his hand sliding along her hip to her back, feeling her hot skin beneath his fingertips as her shirt gets crumpled up. It's only with this movement, with her being pressed against him even closer that he can feel everything; the button of her trousers, her nipples through her work bra, and…

“Is that a candy cane in your pocket or are you just excited to see me?”

“Huh?”

Coldness envelops Bryce when Casey pulls away just slightly. She blinks in confusion before her lips slowly stretch into a smile, the amusement dancing in her eyes giving way to an uncharacteristic shyness. But before Bryce can even place it, she’s kissing him again, desperate and yet so incredibly tender that he almost shivers.

“Shouldn’t I ask you that?” She murmurs against his lips, sounding a little breathless.

Smirking, Bryce answers by pulling her even closer, his hand sliding lower and grabbing her butt just like he knows she likes it, reveling in the way she arches into him and in the gasp that bridges the infinitesimal space between them; just quiet enough so that only he can hear it, and addictive enough so that he shifts a little, intending to use every free second before one of their pagers will inevitably bring their stolen moment in the supply closet to an end.

And while he has momentarily forgotten about the object in her coat pocket and the weirdness of her reaction, it immediately comes back to him when his hand brushes against it and Casey tenses in his arms, shoulders slumping when she pulls back, eyes focused on the ground.

“Case…?”

Worry fills him quicker than the oxygen he so desperately needs, only melting away and turning into curiosity and a faster beating heart when she looks at him again.

Because while the expression is rare for her, he immediately recognizes it as the one she’s always wearing when she’s proposing taking another step in their relationship, vulnerable but hopeful and somehow full of certainty, like she knows what she wants. Only that this time, there’s more nervousness swirling in her eyes, one that only slightly abates when she echoes his smile weakly, her fingers fiddling with the cuff of her coat.

“See, I—,” Casey starts before closing her eyes for a moment. “The other day, I realized that we kind of have a Christmas tradition. Or that it could be one since we’ve done it in the last two years and… I thought it might be… nice.”

The last word leaving her lips sounds like she’s in pain, the word spoken in a forced tone interlaced with annoyance and a little bit of relief, one that immediately underlines how much strength it cost her to admit it – not to him, but to herself. Because after having grown up in a household with a Christmas-obsessed mother, Casey has come to like the quiet, subdued Christmas cheerfulness, only acknowledging that she likes a couple of Christmas related things, like watching specific holiday movies or the scent of a fresh Christmas tree.

Christmas traditions however only always have been mentioned to tell fun and absurd stories, never making him think that maybe, deep down, she misses them. Now though, he wonders if his own experiences might have clouded his judgement; the closest thing to a Christmas tradition he ever had being the stuffy Christmas party his parents threw for the social elite of Hawaii and having to wear a Santa hat in his college years when working in the bar during the holidays.  

But now, Casey is standing in front of him, holding up a candy cane wrapped in a plastic cover that she apparently has been carrying with her for the last few days “just in case” and that makes him think about the previous Christmas seasons spent in Boston.

The first year was rough, full of challenges, and the Christmas season, something he had never paid too much attention to, was suddenly something that was filled with brightness, laughter and way too many cookies. And in the midst of it, he almost had to force an exhausted Casey, who was fighting to stay on top of the ranking list – despite her saboteur working against her – , to take breaks, trying something different every day to calm her spinning mind.

And he knows that somewhere between her thankful smiles and the returning sparkle in her eyes, somewhere between walks through the neighborhood and putting a candy cane, one that he had received from one of his patient’s families, in her coffee, he truly realized that he wants more than friendship and more than a few stress-relieving moments and hours with her.

The resulting relationship developments and feelings carried him through the next year; sometimes making him float, sometimes grounding him, and sometimes getting him through days of absolute tiredness after nights filled with nightmares.

On one of them, and with the lights blinking in the background on the little artificial tree Keiki had insisted on, they experimented with their morning coffee, adding cinnamon, a candy cane and other Christmas treats to it to potentially make their day better. The resulting drink was awful and undrinkable, but the laughter that suddenly filled the apartment, and only got louder when Keiki tried it, her cursing audible even when she left to hurry to the T to meet up with a friend, made everything much brighter, like the sun was finally peeking through the dark clouds, shining on the streets that were covered with slushy snow.

It’s a pattern Bryce hadn’t realized, hadn’t paid attention to, but a few days later, after a difficult surgery that had almost ended badly, and an argument with Keiki the previous evening, he’s craving a moment of comfort and relishes in the warmth of Casey’s closeness in the doctor’s lounge.

Her thigh is touching his while they are sitting on one of the armchairs, silently watching the two intertwined and harmonic stripes of the candy cane dissolving in the coffee, like two entities that belong to each other melting into something bigger, something even better.

The aroma filling his nostrils is enticing and promising, and every sip tastes like comfort and excitement, the warmth of the coffee spreading through his body almost as enveloping, as addictive as thoughts about his and Casey’s future, making him hope that he’ll never reach the bottom of the mug.

“Are you feeling better?” She asks when he has taken a few sips, his eyes closed while he’s smiling, an additional warmth swirling within him that he has never felt before and attributes to the component of it being a tradition, connecting them to the past.

Changing the hand with which he holds the mug, he places his now free hand on hers, lacing their fingers together while looking at Casey and noticing the promise of a future together in her eyes; one so bright and so warm that no snowstorm could possibly stand a chance. And he knows, that even if this particular coffee will be drunk up eventually, he’ll always want a refill and drink it again and again and again.