#do chiefs usually talks to their workers this way all the time or???

[kelin-is-writing]

another day of me getting guilty tripped by my chief's husband and feeling like shit about it...

[sha-n-dowbannedlol]

Wriothesley — the art of body language

cw: feat neuvillette, references to neuvi's story quest (sorry, i just finished it, loved it very much) other than that nothing rlly, just fluff

an: i cant believe i havent written anything for wrio yet??? thats unacceptable, considering i main him (and jing yuan too, all because ono daisuke voices them... jotaro brainrot goes crazy)

It had come to Iudex Neuvillette's attention that there is still much he needs to learn about the enigma that are humans. Following his recent revelations as to his role in Fontaine and relationship with its citizens, he thought it'd be nice if he gets to know them better.

It hadn't escaped his knowledge that sometimes, things would fly over his head. Things said in jest, he ends up taking seriously before realizing at a later time that it was in good humor.

Sometimes, he doesn't realize that his silence had ended up causing the other party feel awkward, and even then, he doesn't know what to do or talk about when they do.

And so, he started by studying the little things. Their expressions, their body language—It had first came up in a conversation with the head nurse of the Fortress of Meropide, Sigewinne.

During one of her rare vacations where she visits the overworld and checks on the Chief Justice in worry that he may be overworking himself again.

Sigewinne talks about the things she has learned from observing the expressions from the workers in the Fortress, and with her observant gaze, she notices just how interested the Chief Justice seems even if from an outsider's point of view, he just looks like he's sporting the same, neutral expression.

At that, Sigewinne brought it upon herself to share the things that she has learned, but he can see the slight furrow on Neuvillette's brow, his fingers on his chin, deep in thought as he tries to picture out the expressions that she's describing.

Thinking to herself, the head nurse thinks of someone that she can describe well enough but also someone that Neuvillette knows fairly well to help him picture out what she's saying—and one person easily comes to mind.

"Take His Grace, for example." Sigewinne mentions, and the Iudex looks up with his eyes widening the slightest bit.

"Wriothesley?" He echoes.

"Yeah!" The melusine chirps happily, smiling widely at Neuvillette.

"If you show him that one human you always send from the Gardes, you can notice a few things from his body language that you wouldn't notice if you're not looking closely."

Which leads to the mentioned Duke now sitting in Neuvillette's office in Palais Mermonia, a tea cup in hand. After all, if Neuvillette were to learn, it'd be better if he sees it for himself, no?

Wriothesley was in the middle of his sentence when a knock reverberates in the room, coming from the door to the entrance to the office. Still holding onto his teacup, the Duke glances at the door, before looking back at the man before him, not surprised by the knock at the very least, as if he had been expecting it.

"Monsieur," Wriothesley spoke in his usual polite tone towards the Chief Justice, "Are we expecting someone else?"

His icy gaze are calculating as they meet Neuvillette's gaze, the Iudex shaking his head, sighing as he looks back to meet the man's calculating gaze.

"Pardon me, it's just some business. It'll be quick." Neuvillette apologizes politely, to which Wriothesley nods and shrugs, taking a sip from his tea cup. Taking that as his 'go ahead' signal, the judge turns his head to his office door and spoke.

"Please, come in."

Neuvillette was quick to glance at Wriothesley from the corner of his eyes as the door opens. And as you came into view, he notices the way the Duke's eyes widened slightly in surprise, quietly choking on his tea but managing to gather himself again in a split second.

"Chief Justice." You spoke in a formal, polite tone, eyes glued to the man who nods in return, before you eventually noticed the other person in the room.

Again, Neuvillette observes Wriothesley.

"Your Grace," You also greet the Chief Justice's guest politely.

True to Sigewinne's words, The Lord Incognito sat with his back a little straighter, his chest puffing out as he oh so gently puts his tea cup down on its saucer, his voice laced with a tad bit of warmth as he spoke your name in greeting.

"Is it a bad time?" You asked, eyes glancing over the tea cups laid on the table between the two men, "I'm sorry for interrupting your meeting."

But before Neuvillette could reassure you that you weren't at fault, and that it was all his for having called for you, Wriothesley was quick to respond.

"Nonsense," Wriothesley didn't even hesitate to reassure you that he doesn't mind, a small genuine smile gracing his lips. "We're just sharing some words over tea, would you like a cup?"

"Thank you, Your Grace. But I couldn't possibly." You respond as you take steps closer, closing the door behind you as you fully enter the office.

"I insist." Wriothesley hums, already reaching out for a third tea cup that has been conveniently brought out by Neuvillette despite the fact that there were only two of them.

You raise your hand, about to protest but was cut off by the Chief Justice, your boss himself.

"You're no strangers to each other, please do share a cup," Neuvillette spoke as he looked at you with a nod before standing up from his seat. "Excuse me while I look for the file that our latest convict needs—I seem to have mixed it with other files."

An obvious lie. The Chief Justice is a neat person, everything has a place and everything is in their rightful place, but neither of them questioned it as Neuvillette offers his seat to you before moving over towards his desk where the paperworks to process the latest criminal lay.

He took this opportunity to study the scene before him, as he pretends to shuffle papers here and there.

Diluted pupils. Eye contact. Mirroring your actions. A smile never leaving his face. Leaning on the table. And.... uh huh. That's the third time Wriothesley tried to fix his hair in the past five minutes.

Neuvillette blinks as he observes the way the Duke handles himself around your presence, and he is sure that if Wriothesley had a tail, it'd be wagging happily right about now.

Eventually, the Iudex returned to rejoin your small party. A small smile was plastered on both your and the Duke's faces as you engaged in your own little world, both pairs of eyes landing on him as he penetrated your little bubble.

"I've found it," He spoke in his usual neutral tone, and you gave him a nod.

The ever gentleman that he is, Neuvillette thought nothing of it as his hands moved with sophisticated grace, pulling your chair out for you and offering you his hand to help you stand. He was just being polite. And being used to his actions, you didn't hesitate to take his hand as you stood. But...

Ah.

Neuvillete can't help but notice Wriothesley's gaze fixated on your hand in his grasp, the smile on his face gone, just his pale, icy gaze staring a hole into the Chief Justice's fingers around your hand.

Tense. On guard. Almost reminiscent of a guard dog meeting a stranger and gauging whether they are a threat or not.

Interesting.

The man let go of your hand to give you the paperwork you had come for, giving you another nod, your gazes now locked with each other's.

"Here you go,"

"Thank you, Monseiur."

You receive the files, opening your mouth to bid your farewell to both men in the room when the sound of the chair sliding against the floor sounded, and both your attention snapped towards Wriothesley who was letting out a loud sigh.

"Ah, would you look at the time?" Wriothesley suddenly announces loudly, as if making sure both of their attentions are on him. "It's getting late."

Neuvillette's head subtly tilts to the side in curiosity at Wriothesley's sudden actions. Trying to figure out what has the man so tense, quietly thinking to himself.

Is this what they call envy? No, envy isn't precisely the correct term...

Ah. Jealousy. That's the term.

"I should get going. Thank you for this afternoon, Monsieur Neuvillette." The Duke spoke, approaching the both of you, snapping the said man out of his thoughts, who turned to face him.

"The pleasure was all mine. I'm grateful for your time as well," The Chief Justice responds,

"I'll be on my way as well," You spoke your farewells to your boss, and Neuvillette watched as Wriothesley turned to face you this time, speaking your name in a soft tone.

"You'll be escorting an inmate to the Fortress, no?" Wriothesley spoke with a slight hint of amusement in his voice, his eyes on you as you nodded to confirm his questions.

"I am, but I'd have to pick them up first." You respond as you turn to walk towards the exit, Wriothesley hot on your heels like a puppy happily following its owner

"I'll go with you, then."

"That might not be a good idea, Your Grace. They might get intimidated."

"Well, they'll just have to deal with it, won't they? They'll be seeing more of me in Fortress of Meropide; they should get used to it."

Neuvillette watched your exchange, the Duke opening the door for you, closing it behind him, and your voices became muffled. The Hydro Sovereign stands in place, placing a hand on his chin as he thinks.

"And what kind of emotion does Wriothesley portray when around them?" Neuvillette had asked Sigewinne after she happily detailed every minuscule movement that Wriothesley does consciously and unconsciously in your presence.

"That is what humans refer to as romantic love." Sigewinne beams up happily at him, and he nods, making sure to make an internal note of that.

"So that was love." Neuvillette nods to himself, eyes still glued to the door where you and Wriothesley exited. Funnily enough, Wriothesley wasn't the only one he ended up observing.

From his observations, he can quickly tell that you had the same body language as the Duke throughout your entire conversation, a stark contrast to your more rigid and mechanical body language when speaking to him.

That day, oh so casually, the Chief Justice confirmed and gave his judgment on both of you based on the observed facts.

"They're in love with each other." Neuvillette concluded.

"And neither of them know."

[shapard]

Albino Snake🐍

Lucifer x Human!fem!reader

Alastor kinda reminds me of Dr. Facilier

A/n: I want to cry. I accidentally posted this🥲

You found a cute little albino snake. You named him Apple.

Soft Lucifer

Part 1 > Part 2

You love your home New Orleans.

The streets are filled with jazz and Happy people dancing around. It brought a smile up of your face.

It’s been so long when the streets were this filled. A big number of murders started to rise in New Orleans. Everybody stayed at home, especially you. 

News spread quickly that the Series Killer got killed by a hunter. The Hunter thought he was a deer and gave him a shot right in the middle of his skull.

The days that were cold and dull started to gain color again. And your live just became more stressful. 

Back to two jobs and a small apartment.

You worked in two Restaurants only to fulfill your dream. You want to live that dream you and you father talked about from morning to dawn. Sadly, he’ll not be able to see you reach this dream.

You’re almost there, just a couple more shifts. Just a few weeks of hard work.

You groaned when your alarm clock started ringing in your ear. Exhausted you pressed your hand onto the alarm.

You yawned and stretched your body; a small cracking sound emits from your bone, and you sigh in relief. 

“Next shift here I come!” 

As usual people side eyed you when you past them with a tray of food. Working in gastronomy is hard.

Terrible chef, terrible co-workers and even worse the customers. Your chief always tormented you that you'll never reach that dream. That it was useless. You are born poor and you stay poor, especially for a woman.

But that never lets you down. Then you'll be the first woman who'll reach the top without marrying off to a rich man.

The ring bell tuned, and your rich friend Charlotte and her father walked happily into the small business.

Charlotte smiled brightly at you when she saw you. “Y/n! There you are! I have an important question to ask you.” You laughed softly at her antics. she always was always so outgoing and a bright soul. 

“Of course.” Charlotte squealed and was quick to grab her father's purse. “Do you think you can make some beignets? You’ll get paid off, of course.” Without even waiting for your answer, she pushed couple hundred dollars into your chest and ran out of the store without even touching the beignets. 

Charlotte already paid and it wasn't rare that this happens. All your attention was now on the money in your hand. 

With this money it’s more than enough to buy the restaurant you and your father always dreamed about.

Soft tears pearled down on your face and your boss mouth was wide open in shock. “Huh… Wait… WHAT?!” 

When you shift was done you were quick to make a visit to the former sugar farmhouse.

The house was pretty worn down but that didn’t hold you back. You swung around the house humming a soft tune as you imagined how the place will look in the future.

"I'm almost there~..."

A soft clink echoed through the hollow place, bringing you back to reality. Scared you looked around you. Maybe a mouse?

Following the clinking sound, you saw a small snake hurt in a water cup. The snake looked up to you with soft red eyes. The white scales reminded you of pure untouched snow.

The snake was probably an albino. 

You spread out your hand and took the little injured creator in your hand. Your heart swelled when the little snake slithered up to your wrist embracing it softly.

Its red eyes never left yours and you patted his head slightly. 

The Snake watches as you walked stressed out up and down through your little room. A small bandage adorned its little tummy and a small bow tie was around his head. 

To say he was embarrassed was an understatement. But the way how happy you applied the little bowtie on his head was giving him pure joy. So, he didn't protest.

When you finally looked at the small clock that was on your room wall you gasp at the time. You grabbed your little purse and the beignets for the little costume party.

Theme: Kingdom.

The snake you named apple slithered up to your neck. It looked like a designer necklace, and you loved it. 

You stood unmoving in one of the stands from the party. The landlord of the place where you found him was informing you that someone pays way more than you do.

Your whole body feels like it's going to crumble. You were so close to that dream. You were so close to making your father proud.

All those years for nothing?

Apple looked up to you and he saw the face of pure despair and sadness. His heart broke when you ran towards the landlord in despair. Tears were pouring down your face as you shouted the landlord’s name. 

You were close to a panic attack. Apple rested softly on your neck like a scarf. He tried to comfort you in any way.

A woman with a wine glass in her hand accidentally pours the wine onto your dress and Apple hissed at the sudden wetness.

When you turned to look for the landlord he was nowhere to be found. And for the first time you really felt defeated.

Your legs under you gave up and everything around you started to mix in one black hole.

Charlotte hugged you from behind when she saw your broken state. Charlotte dragged you along with her when she looked at the damage on your dress. 

She gave you a new dress your mother had designed for her.

A gorgeous flowing dress that beats every physics. A little Tiana was on your head and the color matched perfect with your skin color. 

Apple watched with an immense blush on his scales.

You look so pretty in this dress. 

You plumped softly onto the bed where apple was laying. He laid under your chin cuddling into your heat. "Oh Apple. I don't know what to do." You whined as soon as those words left you.

“I can help.” As soon as you heard Apple talk you shot up, falling with full force onto the hard floor. 

Red mist covered the whole room and in front of you stood a man with white skin, red eyes and royalty looking clothes.

His smirk was large, and he held an apple cane in one of his hand. “Do you trust me princess?”

A/n: I'm obsessed with Tyla's new album.

💫

@i-have-no-life-charlie @sirenetheblogger @concentratedconcrete

Taglist

[suzuki-chiyeko]

Takaritsu Week: Day 5 - Jealousy

Takano tries out a different approach to dealing with his jealousy.

I'm not sure whether this one is completely canon compliant, but here's my third entry for @takaritsuweek :)

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

Takano was fully aware that Ritsu had built a life and a career for himself in the years before he joined Marukawa, and that in those years he'd made connections with some well-known people in the world of literature. Therefore, when he noticed him talking to one of Marukawa's most acclaimed authors, he didn't think much of it at first. He knew that his lover had edited several of Usami Akihiko's works during his time at Onodera Publishing.

Initially, it had looked like an innocent attempt to reconnect with an old acquaintance. They'd bumped into each other in the hallway and the conversation had blossomed organically. It probably started off with them reminiscing about their professional relationship as author and editor. That part, Takano couldn't complain about.

However, when Ritsu appeared to be getting a little too comfortable, his irritation flared up like a barrel of oil catching fire. Ritsu's voice pitched higher than usual as he spoke and he was smiling way too much.

It didn't help that the author took on a relaxed stance, one hand in his pocket and the other resting casually against the wall, as their conversation carried on. Like Ritsu, he smiled almost the entire time—not a full smile, but a slight curve of the lips that radiated an air of mystery.

Takano wandered over to a vending machine and pretended to check out the beverages it contained, making sure to stay out of Ritsu's sight. Unfortunately, keeping his distance also prevented him from discovering what exactly they were talking about.

Minutes ticked by, but neither of the men made any move to wrap up their conversation. Takano glanced at them every few seconds, his muscles growing tense.

'I don't care how much time Usami-sensei has on his hands, but you have plenty of work to do.' He glared at Ritsu. The shoujo editor remained blissfully unaware of his presence.

When Akihiko put his hand on Ritsu's arm, ushering him out of the way of another employee passing through the hallway, Takano's patience snapped. He marched towards them, quickly replaced his glare with a fake smile and stood next to Ritsu. The latter jolted the moment he saw him, but Takano kept his eyes trained on the author.

"Usami-sensei, what a pleasant surprise to run into you here," he greeted politely. "I'm Takano Masamune, Editor-in-Chief of the Emerald Department. I'm a longtime fan of your work."

"Oi, Takano-san! What do you—"

"Nice to meet you," Akihiko replied just as pleasantly. Although his smile didn't reach his eyes, he seemed unbothered by the sudden interruption. "Editor-in-Chief, you say? You must be Onodera's superior then."

"That's right. He was a complete newbie to manga editing when he joined, but thankfully he got the hang of it very quickly." Takano let his gaze wander towards Ritsu, not missing how his face flushed at that last comment.

"That doesn't surprise me. Onodera has always been a diligent worker."

The smirk that tugged at Akihiko's lips made Takano's blood boil. He wanted to grab Ritsu's arm and drag him away, but out of respect for the author he composed himself. Forcing out a chuckle, he squeezed the editor's shoulder.

"Though I have to admit, it's shocking to hear that there are people in the shoujo department who enjoy my works," Akihiko continued. "I thought that type of manga was all about heart-fluttering romance and innocent love."

"Do you have something against romance, Usami-sensei?"

The author chuckled, shaking his head. "Not at all, but my novels aren't exactly known for being 'romantic'. Surely you must've noticed, as an avid reader of my work."

Ritsu, who had been completely excluded from the conversation, was trembling in Takano's grasp, obviously not happy with his lover's interference. His silence ignited a spark of deviousness within Takano.

"Love may not be a common theme in your writing, but I can't imagine romance hasn't crossed your path yet. A successful man like you must receive mountains of fan letters with love confessions. It's hard to resist such eloquence... and you're not hard on the eyes either."

The trembling promptly turned into vicious shaking, and Takano could actually feel the rage pouring out of Ritsu. He smiled subtly yet victoriously. Oh, how the tables had turned.

"You flatter me. I've heard that the Emerald Department is renowned for its handsome employees, and from what I can see that's not just some baseless rumor." Akihiko raised an eyebrow suggestively.

"You're too kind, Sensei."

Suddenly, the soft buzzing of a cell phone interrupted their pleasant exchange. Akihiko sighed.

"That's my editor, no doubt. I'm afraid we'll have to cut our conversation short. It's been a pleasure talking to you, Takano-san."

"The pleasure is all mine. I'll see you around."

With a nod and a swift goodbye, the novelist went on his way. Takano removed his hand from Ritsu's shoulder and turned towards him without saying a word. Green eyes shot daggers at him, but it didn't intimidate him in the slightest. If anything, it made the whole situation all the more satisfying.

"What was that all about?!" Ritsu seethed.

"We were just having a nice talk. I don't see what the issue is."

"A nice talk? You just appeared out of nowhere and started flirting with him!"

"Sounds like you're jealous." Takano stifled a laugh at the sight of Ritsu's face turning bright red. "Don't worry, I would never choose anyone over you. Besides, you're more Usami-sensei's type: brown hair, green eyes, easily flustered..."

"I'm not easily flustered! How would you even know what Sensei's type is? You talked to him for like five minutes."

Takano turned around. "Enough talking. It's time to get back to work." He walked off, slipping his hands into his pockets.

"Wha—hey, don't ignore me! Takano-san!"

Even as Ritsu went after him demanding an answer, the the man's lips remained sealed. Takano couldn't stop the smile from spreading across his face. He hated getting jealous over his lover, but he sure loved it when it was the other way around.

[latteseungs]

moth to a flame : seungmin

moth to a flame : ksm

pairing: seungmin x f!reader (ft. lee know) genre: heavy angst, smut, there's not a speck of fluff in this, non-idol au word count: 4.4k warnings: 18+ minors please do not interact. cheating (please do not read if you are uncomfy with themes like this and for the love of god please don't cheat), name calling (babe, baby, love), explicit sexual content, desperate / jealous / possessive unprotected sex, fingering, creampie, choking, use of foul language, drinking, masturbation (m), oral (f. receiving), no happy ending, god this is a lot wow

✦ 。description: you loved seungmin out of convenience. but he was almost everything you ever wished for. the only thing missing was he wasn't minho.

📓 .✦𓂃 masterlist | AO3 | reblogs are very much appreciated <3

author's note: be mindful of the timestamps. hihi. this fic is inspired by moth to a flame by swedish house mafia ft. the weeknd, illicit affairs by taylor swift, and a few hints of high infidelity by taylor swift too. i highly recommend giving moth to a flame a listen while you read <3 an additional warning that i hate y/n here. i really do. lmAO. also, would really really appreciate some feedback because this was kinda out of my comfort zone when it comes to writing. anw, thanks for being here!!

april 2023 7:46 pm

“Hi baby, how was your day?”

You felt a pang in your chest once you heard your fiancé’s voice. He was in the kitchen as usual, drinking his favorite homemade coffee as he watched kdramas on his phone, even if you have a fully functioning large tv in the living area.

“It was alright,” an outright lie.

Work was shit. Co-workers were shit. But even if everything in your work life is slowly coming into flames and you have no choice but to face some of the shittiest people ever as your clients, you can’t believe that the shittiest out of all of them was still you.

Seungmin seemed suspicious of how you answered, probably sensing that you were lying right through your teeth. How he knows you like the back of his hand was absolutely endearing. But sometimes, all it felt like were a ton of bricks on your back.

“You sure about that, babe?” He asked, starting to put down his phone on the table. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

You hate him.

You hate how so damn perfect he is. You hate how much he loves you.

But you hate yourself more for not loving him the same way.

5:15 pm that day

“You should have told them that it wasn’t possible then?”

“It was possible, but not with the time frame they gave me!” You exclaimed exhaustively as you crashed on the couch. You pulled Minho’s button down tightly around your body, finding comfort in his scent.

“And don’t you dare tell me that I should have told them too because you, of all people, know how much I need this deal closed.”

Minho scoffed, “Shouldn’t your fiancé know about this too?”

You abruptly fixed how you sat on Minho’s couch, pushing a hand through your bed-ruined hair. Seungmin knows about the deal you have been trying to secure for almost six months now, but he doesn’t know as much as Minho does.

And that’s on you.

“Please, he also knows about this,” you were defensive, holding up your arms to your chest as you tried not to overthink.

“Then you wouldn’t be here ranting about it again for probably the third time this week alone,” he petted Soonie on his lap as he gulped the rest of his beer. His eyes never landed on yours as he talked about your fiancé.

“He’s a lawyer, for god’s sake. He would have probably closed this deal of yours months ago.”

Minho was right. He always was. Even if he was one of the most outstanding chief marketing officers out there, you sure as hell needed a good lawyer to back you too. But your fucking pride and independent mentality are in the way. You knew Seungmin could have helped you ever since you talked about the terms and conditions of the contract. You knew that Seungmin could have easily discussed how you could have agreed with better terms. You knew that Seungmin could have lessened the stress that you were going through now. But you didn’t even share a peep with him, only the tip of the iceberg.

“You know me and my tendencies to not ask for help.”

“Yeah, I know,” he grimaced. “But I can’t help but think you have a different purpose; why you didn’t ask your Seungmin to rescue you.”

He sounded cocky and bitter, but you pushed that thought to the back of your mind. You didn’t ask your oh-so-perfect fiancé because you didn’t want to seem like a damsel in distress. You didn’t want to look like you were using his career to boost yours. This was your work, your business, so why the hell would you cry out to be saved?

“Care to enlighten me?” You poked, knowing damn well that Minho wouldn’t dare explain his thoughts.

“You did it to have reason to be constantly here, using my job as a cover-up, and not make it look like you’re cheating on your soon-to-be husband.”

december 2022

“Don’t be stupid,” Chan throws you a judging stare. “And don’t you dare look at me like that because I know you came to me for a reality check and not some advice you want to hear.”

You kept your mouth shut. Thinking about leaving your perfectly good boyfriend to get back with a borderline-toxic ex might be one of your stupidest thoughts to date. Chan, being one of your closest friends for the longest time, is verbalizing it because you can never admit it to yourself.

He sighed, plopping down beside you as he handed you the beer you requested. “Cheers,” he mumbled, raising his bottle of energy drink.

“It’s stupid, no?” You groaned. “Even the thought of it is stupid.”

“Yes, it is, and I’m glad to know that you actually recognize that.”

“But—”

“But, what?” He immediately cut you off, probably knowing what you’ll say next. “It doesn’t feel the same way with Seungmin? There’s no thrill? There’s no rush?”

Shame. You were the one who would judge people for leaving their partners just for a speck of thrill before. And now you’re the one being judged. You can’t lie to yourself because you know for a fact that you deserve it.

“People would kill to be in a relationship you’re currently in, y/n. That peace you’re feeling with Seungmin? Some people crave that because they know that ‘peace’ in a relationship is what you call home. It makes them realize they’re finally with the one they’re meant for.”

But it doesn’t feel that way with Seungmin.

It was smooth sailing with Seungmin. It was actually a breeze with him—safe. He treated you like royalty. You don’t even want to think about how he looks at you because you would feel guilty even contemplating leaving him. He would hold you in his eyes like you had the entire universe. And in his world, maybe you did.

“Look,” Chan cleared his throat. “I am in no place to say this, but you need to hear it.”

You took a gulp of your beer before looking at him, prepared to hear the most heart-wrenching speech that would finally wake you up to reality and stop with your fantasy land.

But the words that came out of Chan’s mouth were something you would have never expected. Not at least for another two or three years.

“What do you mean he’s going to propose?” You gasped. It wasn’t impossible, considering the two of you have been dating for at least three years. The both of you had a stable job, your family adores him, and you’re both living together… it made sense. It would be more unusual if he wasn’t thinking about it. But to you, it felt too soon, like you were rushing into it.

“I’m not that kind of person who wants to put words in other people’s mouths, but just hear me out, okay?” he squeezed his hand on top of yours.

“Say yes. Accept it. Nothing gets better after Kim Seungmin. Trust me. Minho gave you nothing but heartbreak.”

7:58 pm

“No, baby, it’s okay, really. I’m just tired from work,” you said, kissing Seungmin on the cheek.

He sighed as he got a whiff of Minho’s perfume off of his fiancée. He wasn’t sure how many times he got to smell it that week, but he stopped counting right after knowing that this would be a regular thing for you.

You were being distant again. You always were right after being with Minho. Even if you try your best to hide that you were with him that day, a scent always lingers. Seungmin honestly doesn’t know if you were sleeping with your ex or doing anything physical with him; the fact that you would rather be with someone else hurts the same way.

Seungmin tried. He really did. But it seems like he was never really enough for you. Seungmin wasn’t dumb. He knows you were still madly in love with your ex-boyfriend even after you said yes to his proposal. He knew what he was getting into when he first started dating you, but he thought that over time, he could finally replace Minho in your heart. So maybe he is a little stupid, thinking you could get over the love of your life.

“Do you want me to run you a bath, babe?” Seungmin asked as he entered the bedroom. You were a little startled because you were in the middle of changing, but you immediately settled down when you turned to see him.

“Thanks, baby, but I’ll just cha—”

Seungmin interrupted you with kisses trailing down your neck from behind. His hands swiftly made their way to your bare waist as he gently pulled your back to him. He made sure that you felt the growing bulge from his pants.

He wanted to see if some part of you still belonged to him.

A soft moan escaped your lips, but you held Seungmin on the nape, making him halt his ministrations to your skin. “I’m not in much of a mood today, Seung.” You whispered apologetically.

That felt like a gunshot to Seungmin’s chest. He rested his head on your shoulder in defeat.

“We haven’t had sex in almost a month, y/n,” He breathed, honestly ready to raise a white flag. The way he said your name was so full of emotion and pent-up exhaustion.

He wasn’t trying to force you to do anything with him. He wasn’t some sex-deprived maniac. He can keep his dick in his pants. He doesn’t even mind if you both don’t fuck for more than a month. What worries him is that you don’t want to do it with him. This was one of the things that Seungmin was holding on to, one of the things to see if you were still even slightly attracted to him, whether it may be purely physical, he’d accept it.

It was a desperate move. But Seungmin was desperate.

You stiffened in his hold after you heard him. Twisting in his linked arms, you circled your own on his neck. “Has it really been that long?”

Seungmin didn’t even try to look at you, his eyes locked on the floor.

“I’m sorry, Seung,” you rested your palm on his cheek, turning his head in your direction, getting him to look at you. “I’ve just been so busy with the deal.” You sounded so guilty, and of course, as always, Seungmin ate it up. He always drops down his walls whenever he feels even an ounce of love from you.

“Let me make it up to you,” you started to go down to your knees, but Seungmin immediately pulled you up.

“Baby, you don’t have to do that,” he said, holding onto your arms.

“But I want to,” you dragged, starting to pepper his face with kisses.

And that was it. Seungmin folded. You have him wrapped around your fingers once again. At least he knows he was not entirely out of the picture yet.

“If you want to make it up to me, let’s do it properly,” Seungmin grumbled before kissing you fervently. He tried to kiss you with so much passion; maybe there, he could make you feel all the raw love he has for you.

Even if you don’t feel the same way.

He laid you gently on your bed, a soft moan escaping your lips when his knees came in contact with your center. Seungmin did it again and applied some pressure, making you squirm under him.

“Seung,” you moaned out, hands lifting his shirt. Your hand ran through the expanse of his torso as Seungmin shivered lightly with the way you traced his toned stomach.

He made his way down to your legs, two of his fingers tracing your clothed, wet core. He placed kisses on the inside of your thighs before pushing your underwear to the side. He tentatively placed his tongue on your clit, and you covered your mouth to stop yourself from letting out a loud groan.

He ran a stripe of his tongue on your sex, making you hold onto his hair with greater force than you intended. Seungmin felt his pants restrict even more with every sound you make, with every pull of his hair that you do. But even if he started to feel uncomfortable with how his cock went hard, he continued to lap you, making sure that no one else would make you feel the way he was making you feel right now.

“Fuck, Seungmin!” You let out, not stopping yourself anymore.

With the scream that left your lips, Seungmin couldn’t help himself. He took out his cock from his pants and pumped himself off as he continued to push his tongue in you, his other hand circling your clit.

“Yes, baby. Don’t stop. That’s so hot,” you were panting, feeling your release coming to a close when you saw Seungmin getting himself off with his hand while he ate you out.

When you started to feel the buildup in your lower stomach, Seungmin stopped altogether. You almost complained before you felt him enter you with no warning. He bottomed out immediately with how wet you were. You could instantly feel his cock in parts of you that only felt like heaven.

Seungmin tried to muffle his groan by kissing your chest, but his voice still resonated. He undid your bra quickly as he started to thrust into you. He palmed your breast, the other being sucked into his mouth while he slammed his hips into you.

“Oh my fucking god, Seungmin!” You practically screamed.

His hands on your tits were now placed around your neck, adding a little pleasure you always liked.

“You’re mine, right?” Seungmin suddenly asked.

“Yes.”

“Say it.”

You can feel your release starting to build up again on your lower stomach as you continue to take your fiancé’s cock in you. He was hitting all the right spots, and you were starting to see stars.

“Say it!” Seungmin demanded again.

“I’m yours, Seungmin!” He felt you come around him, your constraining walls feeling perfectly around his throbbing dick, your moans filling the bedroom.

“You’re mine,” he mumbled, his thrusts starting to feel erratic as he came too close to release. “I’m the only one who gets to come inside you.”

Seungmin was surprised by the words that left his mouth. He was never this possessive. Not even during sex. But maybe all the feelings that he’s been trying to bottle up were slowly spilling.

“I’m yours, Seung.” You whispered again before feeling Seungmin shoot his hot cum around your walls.

1:43 am

“Do you hate me that much to call me at this hour? Are you for real right now?” Minho grumbled from the other end.

“Then why did you answer, you dipshit?”

“Because I have no self-control when it comes to you.”

A silence enveloped the two of you. All you could hear was rustling and maybe one of the cats trying to lay beside Minho in bed.

You snuck outside your bedroom just to go out the balcony so you could call him in peace, ensuring that Seungmin was sleeping soundly in bed. After what happened with Seungmin earlier, it made you wonder if you were really not paying that much attention to him anymore. He rarely showed that vulnerable side of himself to you because he was always so composed and put together. Seeing him somewhat defeated earlier made your chest hurt.

You admit you’re unfaithful, but it doesn’t mean you don’t love him even, if that sounds so messed up.

“C’mon, what do you want? I have to leave early for work later, and Doongie is getting real chatty.”

You chuckled after hearing the constant meowing from the background; Doongie was probably grumpy that you woke him up too.

“It’s nothing. I just…” You sighed, not even remembering why you called Minho. Now you have to think of something important because he would probably not let you hear the end of it the next time you see him. If there is a next time, at least.

Thoughts started to leave your mind as your heart calmed at just hearing the sound of Minho’s breathing. No matter what others say about him or what he did to you when you were together, nothing would amount to how he makes you feel. Who would have thought that breathing through a call would calm you down? He didn’t even need to say anything.

“If I… if I break it off with Seungmin… Would you take me back?”

The question suddenly came out of you. It wasn’t even what you were planning to say. But the long pause that Minho gave as a response was already an answer.

When you were about to say you would hang up, Minho cleared his throat.

“Would you leave Seungmin?”

one week later 7:50 pm

“Aren’t you supposed to be rich?”

You scoffed at Minho’s snarky comment, but you continued to stir the pot in front of you.

After the little call that you made with Minho last week, it really shook something inside you. But you, being the coward that you are, ignored it. You promised yourself that you would start coming to Minho for business-related purposes only. Still, here you are again, cooking a meal for the both of you instead of doing it for your boyfriend.

“You probably have a personal chef at your beck and call in your huge penthouse, so why the hell would you ransack my barely stocked cupboard and refrigerator for food? You do know that I have three cats to feed, right?”

“Shut up, that’s nonsense.”

“How dare you call my cats nonsense? Look at those little devils enjoying their playground that’s worth at least a month of my sala—”

“Idiot!” you playfully hit Minho’s arm after he misunderstood what you said. “I was talking about having a personal chef; that was nonsense. I’m not rich.”

“Yeah, say all you want. But your fiancé is probably swimming in money.”

There he goes again. You sighed, turned off the stove, and removed your apron as you entered his living room.

Minho has been quite vocal about you being with Seungmin lately. It was like an unspoken rule between the both of you to rarely talk about him when you two were together. Seungmin doesn’t exist when it’s just the two of you. But recently, he keeps pointing out how you were with someone else.

You heard his footsteps follow you to the sofa, but you didn’t even want to look at him. He called out your name, but you didn’t respond. When his voice went stern, you finally glanced in his direction. He stood a few feet away from you, hands bawled into fists.

“Leave him,” Minho’s voice was barely above a whisper, but you heard him clearly. So loud that you felt like it echoed throughout the whole apartment.

“What?” You feel breathless, feeling like you were underwater; your body suddenly doesn’t want to move to gasp for air.

“Be with me.”

Minho was determined. He was finally tired of hiding. He was tired of pretending he was okay when you didn’t stay the night or hurry home before the two of you get caught. He was so sick of trying to meet you in secret or only seeing you when there was no sun outside.

He wanted to hold your hand, grab you by the waist, kiss you on your forehead. He wanted all those things back. He loved you and wanted everyone to know how much he did. He may have fucked up before, but he swore he would do better when you decide to be with him instead.

He was sick of all the sneaking around and all the lies he needed to remember. He doesn’t think he has the stomach to hold it all together much longer.

“Choose me.”

Tears were pricking your eyes, and your vision blurred with the image of Minho waiting for your answer. All you could do was open your mouth, but no words came out. You weren’t sure of the answer the day he asked if you would leave Seungmin for him. You thought that some part of you could do it and finally be with Minho. He was your greatest love and you thought you could drop everything just to be with him. But right now, with Minho almost begging you to be with him, leaving Seungmin suddenly became a clear-cut picture in your head.

You couldn’t do it.

Seungmin was too perfect. His love for you was so pure. You know that you can never return the amount of love he has for you, but you know for sure that you love him enough to stay.

And you don’t love Minho enough to choose him.

“I—”

A single tear fell from Minho’s eye. He knows.

“No, don’t,” he sighed. “you don’t need to say it. He’s good for you.”

8:06 pm

The silence between you and Minho was ear-piercing. Even after deciding that you’re not leaving your boyfriend over him, you can’t believe he still has the heart to lead you outside his apartment and volunteer to take you to your car because of how dark the streets get.

It would have been pitch dark outside if not for the dimly lit street lights and the flashlight on Minho’s phone guiding your steps on the pavement as you looked for your car. You were so used to leaving Minho’s apartment at this time that the darkness didn’t even bother you anymore.

Not until a voice so familiar called out your name from a distance.

“What’s this?”

Your heart dropped to your feet.

“Seungmin—”

“Is that Minho with you?”

Minho was suddenly in front of you, his body covering yours as Seungmin stepped closer to the both of you.

“What the hell are you doing with my fiancée?” Seungmin’s voice was raised, a voice you had never come out from him through all the years that you were together. He doesn’t look like himself. His eyes were blazing with mixed feelings, anger, hurt, betrayal, and it was all because of you.

You pushed Minho away from in front of you and ran towards Seungmin, tears overflowing in your eyes as you tried to reach for your boyfriend’s hand.

“Seungmin, I can explain, I promise!” You sounded hysterical, trying to get a hold of Seungmin, but his eyes were zeroed in on the man behind you.

“Seungmin!” Grabbing his face in your hands, you tried to get him to look at you instead. “Listen to me. This isn’t his fault. It’s me, all me, okay?”

“No,” He removed your hold from him, the voice he let out seeming like broken glass but unwavering. “You listen to me.”

A strained whimper came out from your lips, not knowing what to do. It felt like your whole world was falling apart slowly and painfully right in front of your eyes with every tear that fell from Seungmin’s eyes.

It was you who did this.

“You know what? All this time that you’ve been sneaking around with him,” there was so much venom in the way he spoke as he pointed at Minho, but he remained quiet and still, letting all the anger fall on him.

“I know about it. I’m not naive! But I told myself that one day, one day, you’re gonna stop,” Seungmin tried his best to hold in his sob, but it was too much for him. “One day, you’ll finally feel that you belong with me.”

He tried his best to remember all the times he did you wrong. He tried to think if everything he did was too big of a mistake that you have the need to cheat on him. Did he not treat you right? What was missing from him that you found in Minho instead?

He ran a hand through his hair, furiously wiping the salty tears that kept falling. “Every fucking time I smell his perfume off of you, I told myself that I would turn a blind eye to it as long as you don’t get yourself caught. As long as I’m the one you come home to.”

The pain you were feeling right now would never amount to the pain that Seungmin was feeling. All the time he kept it all in, it finally pierced through his chest, that it felt like he was physically bleeding from the pain.

“Do I love you too much to do that?”

You sob, unable to bear how much hurt you’re putting him through right now. You tried reaching for him again, but he immediately stepped away. He looked at you like he saw a completely different person was before him, not someone he asked to marry.

“Seungmin, please. I stopped. I promise I did. I already cut things off with him to stay with you,” at that point, you didn’t care. What you said was so wretched and cruel for both of the people there with you, but you couldn’t possibly see your future without Seungmin. It was too late for you to realize that, but you’re taking all your chances here just to be able to stay with him.

He scoffed. He couldn’t honestly believe that you thought you would win him back with that. “Is that supposed to make me happy? Is that supposed to redeem yourself?” He questioned incredulously. “Do you think that you finally leaving Minho after all these months, I would forgive you?”

Minho remained quiet behind you. He just stood there, taking all of it in. He deserved it. In fact, he thought he deserved more than the words coming out of Seungmin. He probably deserved a hit in the face or a few curses and vile words from your fiancé, but Seungmin wasn’t like that. That’s how nice he was; he wouldn’t even curse the man you had illicit affairs with.

While you, on the other hand, can’t do anything but cry. It was pathetic of you, but you know there was no escape from this. This was the end of the line, and you knew there was no one to blame except you and your selfishness.

Seungmin covered his tear-stricken face as he let out a choked laugh, “It’s fucking bullshit that I still don’t hate you after all of this.”

Copyright © 2023. latteseungs on tumblr. reposts are NOT allowed.

[undyingembers]

OC Kiss Week - Victoire & Siavash

An OC Kiss Week entry featuring my Rogue Trader Victoire and @dujour13's Siavash. Thank you for letting me do this to him. This was fun.

There are some content tags for this one. Warhammer 40K is very grimdark, and Victoire is...not a nice person. I'm grateful for Dujour for letting me do this to her charcter.

cw: torture mention; shooting mention

Even hours after she put down the little insurrection on Dargonus, Victoire still smelled of blood and gunpowder. Her principal colony was used to a little unrest now and then—people wanting free time, increased pay, and, Emperor forbid, limited working hours. This time was different. This time, the peasants didn’t simply ask for more bread and fewer lashes. There was talk of wanting to create beauty and art and fulfilment in doing what they enjoyed instead of serving the Imperium. Workers shirked their duties to go dance and feast in the hills. Their bad behavior didn’t abate no matter how many lashes they received. Eventually, even the foreman and enforcers put down their whips to go join in the discussions and festivities, encouraged to see the people they oversaw as fellow workers and people. The governor of Dargonus couldn’t keep it under control, so the Rogue Trader had to fly all the way to Mundus Valancius system to deal with it personally.

Victoire put an end to that brutally. She gathered all her armies to gun down the celebrations, had the Drusian priests to deliver sermons on austerity and devotion, and punished everyone who stood in her way.

They were able to put an end to all of this at last. The very last of the agitators held a large bonfire and feast right outside the capital. They even had the nerve to send Victoire an invitation to “see for herself what it was like”. Victoire responded by personally leading a squadron to gun everyone down.

Now, Victoire was in a shuttlecraft with the sole survivor of that massacre. Victoire had expected the chief agitator to be some grand revolutionary inspiring the rabble with speeches and heroics. However, from her reports, it seems that it had happened almost by accident. Some charming stranger had come into one of the bars and chatted and greeted everyone as if he were a friend, playing his music, imagining a world where the patrons there drank for enjoyment instead of getting through the hardship and monotony of the day.  

What she saw now was a broken bird in a cage. The man’s amber-touched yellow hair fell limply around his sallow cheeks. His hazel eyes stared blankly ahead of him. According to Victoire’s officers, he was already like that when they found him, which was partly why Victoire had decided to forgo the usual torture.

Victoire had not meant for this man to survive. It was a miracle that he had. Now everyone he led was dead. She could only imagine how that felt.

“No one was rebelling against you,” the man said in a hoarse broken voice. “We were just getting together. Raising each other up. Enjoying life.”

Victoire gripped this poor fool by the chin and forced him to meet her gaze.

“You should never have crossed me,” said Victoire. Her captive did not resist as she leaned over and planted her red lips on his forehead.

“Things don’t have to be like this,” he said. Odd, even in this broken state, he’s still spouting this nonsense. It was almost as if it were his nature. “Even you don’t have to live in such a miserable world.”

Victoire let go and stepped away before his words could unsettle her even more.

The shuttle dropped them off in a grassy area of the planet Dargonus. The place was riddled with large trees, boulders, and the ruins probably left behind by some xenos that had settled on the planet long before mankind came in. It was a good location to give her prisoner a fighting chance.

The guards dragged him out and uncuffed his wrists. The poor man looked around confusedly.

Victoire cocked her sniper rifle. “I’ll give you an hour’s head start,” she said before taking off in the shuttle again.

[plethoraworldatlas]

John Oliver took on the mismanagement and employee mistreatment of dollar stores on Last Week Tonight. Dollar stores, or retail outlets which sell inexpensive products usually for around a dollar, are dominated by two chains: Dollar General and Dollar Tree, which also owns Family Dollar. The companies collectively operate more than 35,000 dollar stores in the US – more than Walmart, Starbucks and McDonald’s combined, and for great profit; Dollar General made over $2bn in 2022, while Dollar Tree made $1.62bn.

Dollar stores usually operate in low-income areas, and are often the only food retailer in food deserts. As Dollar General’s chief executive, Todd Vasos, said of their business 2020: “We do very good in good times, and we do fabulous in bad times.”

“Right, it’s a store that tends to do better when its customers are doing worse, which isn’t something that really requires use of the word fabulous,” said Oliver. “Fabulous is best used to describe a quirky hat, or the cast of the Golden Bachelor, or the fact that Kim Cattrall made a million dollars to sit in the back of a car and not talk to Sarah Jessica Parker. But a company bragging about how it can profit off financial hardship? Not so much.”

Much has been said about how dollar stores prey on the poor, but Oliver intended Last Week Tonight to focus on how such stores are run, “because if you’ve ever set foot in one, you know they can look like a total disaster”.

“That chaos isn’t a one-off mistake or the fault of those stores’ employees,” he said. “It is the natural end product of how the companies behind these stores choose to operate them. And if you think it can be bad shopping at a dollar store, it is nothing compared to what it’s like working there.”

One of the ways dollar store companies squeeze margins, he explained, are through cutting labor costs. Oliver played a social media clip by one customer, showing a single woman working at a dollar store with dozens of unpacked boxes and customers. It’s excess work for little pay – the median compensation for a Dollar General employee is $18,000 a year; a report two years ago found that over 92% of its employees were making less than $15 an hour, which was a higher percentage than every other company surveyed.

All of which has led employees to issue cries for help on social media, including TikTok that “look like hostage videos”, said Oliver. “It sure seems like these companies do not care at all. It is hard to overstate the indifference these chains can show to their employees’ working conditions.” Distribution centers have repeated rat infestations; some employees have testified as to how they had no control over temperatures in the store, or worked without functioning heating or cooling systems.

[the-firebird69]

Does a lot of talk here about what's happening in town and all over in the same Tommy f is abusing everyone and he is he did the hurricane now we don't know harp on it but there are things happening here and I don't know you're going to be useful elsewhere and we're using you you're not getting these by threats we need things done and it's double-edged short to do the assignments like this we assuming John remillard we're suing John Reed Lord and really it's not much money for doing things to our son and Tommy F two separate group losses what you call class actions there's a whole bunch of other lawsuits they are associated. One of them that's quite interesting is Dr landrigan where the sun said was that he lost his profession cuz he was messing around with me then all of a sudden he's a hero what he did he had to do because Tommy F was going to get rid of him you need distraction and he tried to kill him getting out of there he didn't do it out of the kindness of his heart you know son knows that he's trying to get this done and it works. But we're assuming them both today and we went to court already and we place the lawsuit there and we are going after it pretty good and there's a lot of people suing him a lot more than you think. And we also have action against Tommy f is a group action and it is a large number of people as well and these are higher ups okay not all of them are Mac by race and there's some warlock and some more like we're actually Mac too and it has implications it's not much money but usually the implications in this case are his inane reactions and threats and antics to avoid Court to avoid paying and to avoid any kind of sentence whatsoever and to avoid any kind of jail time in any way and it's not abnormal it's just it is methods are much worse then the crimes he is doing and people suspect that he wants to force himself to do crimes which is odd because the max might want to do that so they can come down on him and now's the time that they want to do it and they're firing them from their positions in Florida right now they won't have any left including sheriff and police and they're saying it. That's happening right now what happened this morning is mass firings of government workers in Charlotte county in Florida and they fired all the way down to 1,000 at this time and about 1% of the government workers are left that's in Charlotte county and they are going after the Mayors councilman sheriff and chief of police and other top positions including the governor today. It is big news and it's going to go around as such and we're going to put it out there right now

Thor Freya

We're here to our policy of being truthful and this is the truth and if you don't believe us go look it up

Hera

Zues she said that I stand behind her you guys are kind of lazy if you don't look it up you're going to get blindsided

Olympus we support this message in whole and it will be posted now

[college-girl199328]

Sam’s life of crime started in the cheese section of his local grocery store about seven months ago. The plan for dinner was to make fettuccine alfredo for him and their two young children recipe called for a block of cheddar. But the brand-name, nothing-remotely-fancy cheese he was poised to put in his cart was good enough.

Surveying more premium cheeses, all Sam could think about was that the prices, driven ever higher by inflation, were seemingly double what they had been the month before. If everyone has a breaking point, the cheese. He put a higher-end cheddar in his cart, headed for the self-checkout and meticulously scanned each item, save for the cheese held to the scanner with the barcode turned away.

It was an act of brazen grocery store banditry perpetrated by an otherwise honest, home-owning, gainfully employed, educated parent without a criminal past.

“I was like, ‘Screw it, I don’t care, I am taking the cheese,’ and that was the first thing I took.” Sam — not his real name — has since graduated to stealing bread and meat. He lives in southwestern Ontario and typically works. He doesn’t wear a phony moustache or some other will boldly, albeit politely, chat up store employees, some of whom he has come to know in that way come to know the local grocery store workers we see every few days but don���t really know at all.

His goal as a thief is to knock 25 percent off each bill. Every nickel he doesn’t spend at the self-checkout is redirected toward pressing household expenses: mortgage, bills, kids, and life.

“This is not about thrill-seeking,” Sam said. “Everything has gone up in price.” Has it ever. Statistics Canada in March said consumer inflation slowed to 5.2 percent in February, but supermarket prices kept soaring ever upward, increasing 10.6 percent year over year. Canadians are feeling the pinch, and some are now pinching pennies by pilfering items from the supermarket.

We are not talking about pros who treat thieving as their day job, but regular Sams. That is, shoppers engaged in a game of moral jeopardy, weighing what they know to be true (stealing is wrong) versus what they also are true (prices have gone, well, bananas, and grocers are reporting huge profits). Many are arriving at a place, often in the automated self-checkout line — but also at cash registers staffed by gangly teenagers and other part-timers — where thou shalt steal because household finances are tight, has become an operative commandment.

Meanwhile, the Big Three grocers appear to have their own commandments around shoplifting, chief of which is: thou shalt not publicly speak of it. Empire Co. Ltd., the parent company of Sobeys, Safeway and other brands, “politely” declined to comment upon the subject, as did Loblaw Cos. Ltd. A Metro Inc. company spokesperson allowed that “in times of high inflation such as these, we usually see an increase in shoplifting.”

One Toronto-area grocer acknowledged theft is a huge problem. They said an even bigger problem would be speaking out for fear of being punished by head office.

The grocers’ reticence around the subject can be partly explained by a belief that there is no upside to bellyaching about shoplifting by one industry insider who requested anonymity. The potential downside is loyal, honest, battered-by-inflation customers are made to feel as though they are being looked upon as a throng of potential petty crooks.

“Theft is a taboo subject among grocers,” Sylvain Charlebois, a professor and food industry expert at Dalhousie University in Halifax, said.

But the grocers clearly know theft is rising and are doing little things to stop it. Some only allow baskets, no more carts, at self-checkouts; some have stopped selling wine and beer, which are very enticing items for thieves; some are forcing shoppers to completely empty their carts onto the checkout stands; and some are either adding a security guard to stand watch or asking for the receipt upon exit. But for every manoeuvre they make, thieves find a way around it.

Data around theft is hard to come by. But Charlebois’ best store loses between $2,000 and $5,000 to the upper limit of that ballpark estimate as a starting point a little back-of-the-napkin math — multiplying the number of stores each of the big three grocers operates by $5,000 — and the annual losses due to theft could ring in as high as $635 million (Loblaw), $415 million (Empire) and $250 million (Metro).

Even if those numbers are wildly overinflated and you reduce them by 90 percent, the cumulative loss from theft would still total about $100 million annually.

That is a lot of cheddar cheese, and it hints at the degree of moral jeopardy being played by the great mass of Canadian consumers, 30 percent of whom believe price gouging by grocers is the “main reason” for high prices at stores, according to a recent survey by Charlebois and his colleagues at Dalhousie’s Agri-Food Analytics Lab.

“People feel that grocers are profiteering,” he said. “And if you believe that a retailer is profiteering, then you could argue that the company is stealing, so why not steal back?”

Further muddying our collective morality is the automated self-checkout. Machines have been around since the mid-1980s. An Ultra Food & Drug in suburban Toronto was among the earliest Canadian adopters. Gerald Good, then chairman of A&P Canada Co., the store’s parent company, met CTV Canada AM co-anchor Keith Morrison in the “power lane” in April 1993 to walk him through the new technology.

Morrison asked about theft. Good answered that the “computer had some sensors” that would negate any problems. Morrison also asked about the company’s motivation for installing the machines and wondered whether it wasn’t part of a grand strategy to reduce the number of employees. Good dodged that stuck the company line about how they serve “customers,” a half-truth if ever there was one.

Consumers and unemployed cashiers know better. The machine is not human, a flesh-and-blood fact that can influence they make, including the criminal they sidle up to an automated self-checkout.

Consumer behaviour experts describe shoplifting at the self-checkout as a form of “consumer misbehaviour,” June Cotte, a marketing professor at the University of Western Ontario’s Ivey School of Business in London, said.

“It is not that consumers are good or bad,” she said the opportunity makes the crime far more common.” The self-checkout happens to be where the opportunity to be quite loud. Research shows the ideal conditions for a shopper to “forget” to scan, say, a steak is when they are among a crowd of people with no store employees looming nearby.

“The situation can make that last-minute choice more likely,” Cotte said. Along with the opportunists are the rabble-rousers, who have internalized a righteous narrative that shoplifting isn’t wrong, but a means to hit back at the price-gouging “Man.” This is not an illogical line of thinking. Inflation is biting into household budgets grocers are making big money. Loblaws’ fourth-quarter earnings were up 11 percent executive Galen Weston was just awarded a $1.2-million pay raise by parent company George Weston Ltd.

Now along comes Sue, the hypothetical shopper, moving through aisle six. She might be feeling a little ticked off about those events on top of feeling stressed out about prices.

“People steal to get back at retailers,” Cotte said. The self-checkout is the perfect accomplice because it is a machine, and humans are far more likely to feel less guilt about a crime when the victim is technology. Were retailers to install self-automated checkouts embedded with a video of a smiling, cheerful, human face, prompting the shopper in a human voice to “pay now,” research suggests people would be far less likely to steal.

There is anecdotal evidence of a generational honour code among thieves. On TikTok, a wildly popular platform among young people, users bypass community guidelines to post content that promotes stealing. They’ll use coy euphemisms such as “borrowing” and a lesser-known slang term called “racking,” which refers to shoplifting from big mom-and-pop stores. There are even tutorials and tips on how and what to steal without getting caught.

But supermarkets aren’t exactly sitting like fattened ducks waiting to be fleeced by the young and old alike. Tom Doyle is a guy no thief would want to meet. He is a loss-prevention specialist or grocery store detective, and he is built like a human fire hydrant: bald, 5-foot-8, 250 pounds, scary-looking.

Doyle has been in the business of busting shoplifters for almost 40 years in Corporate Protection & Investigative Services, which does a lot of work for major grocery stores. He has been stabbed, bitten, punched and had bottles swung at his head in the line of duty.

“Meat is the hottest item right now,” he said. By hot, he means shoplifters are looking to steal it. Most shoplifters Doyle encounters are not otherwise honest, upstanding professionals who steal for a living.

Every store detective has their own method of catching a thief. His preferred technique involves walking the aisle with a grocery item in watching for suspicious behaviour. He has a fancier outfit to blend in with the other customers if he is working at a more upscale store, and he never wears sandals or flip-flops to guard against getting his feet “stomped.”

There is shoplifting, and a few weeks saw a new. A man and a woman separately entered a store, got carts and walked the aisles loading up on goods. They each had a stack of steaks tucked corner of the reusable shopping bag slung over their shoulder.

“This is different,” he remembers thinking. The pair casually transferred the meat to the bag while they shopped and went to pay at a cashier-staffed checkout to have their cards rejected. A big show of apology ensued, and assurances were given that they would call their bank to sort out the problem and be right back to pay. They then walked out of the store with the meat slung over them.

In the old days, he would have called 911. But call for the police these days don’t show up for hours. “You are last on their list,” he said. Sitting in the manager’s office with a shoplifter for six hours is six not monitoring the floor, so most of the time with his smartphone warning them that he will call the police if he sees them around again.

It is a different kind of moral jeopardy when the punishment for a crime is no real punishment. What the righteous, as well as the TikTok savvy, fail to realize, Dalhousie’s Charlebois said, is that consumers ultimately bear the cost of increasing the grocers simply pass whatever the on to them.

In recent weeks, Sam has dialled back on shoplifting, but not due to a sudden guilty conscience. “I feel no remorse,” he said. But he has noticed store employees paying increased attention at the self-checkout, and their vigilance has him more heavily weighing the risks of being caught. He imagines he could talk his way out of a jam and to his kids? Children tend to be moral absolutists: Stealing is wrong, and so it is, but life is a little more complicated for adults with mortgages and mouths to feed besides their own.

“I don’t steal frivolous things,” Sam said. “I don’t steal beer — though some days I feel like I need it — I just want to feed my children some good, healthy food.”

Don’t we all?

[cosmicaddress]

Character Prompts: TDA edition

There comes a time in every person’s life where they want to create something, but struggle with an original concept. Here are some character prompts for the folks stuck on the struggle bus. 

[name] is the person in charge of Mindstream. It is their responsibility to manage the day-to-day activities of Mindstream. They are the boss, parental figure, and confidant of every member of the agency. [name] is not only the head of Mindstream but also its chief recruiter because of their ability to spot people with ESP talent. Although they cannot always tell what the ESPer’s power actually is, they can determine the level of the person’s power. This allows them to gauge the ability of people before interviewing them. [name] is in their mid-fifties.

A gambler who uses his unique ability to modify the odds in his favor to make his fortune. If approached in the right manner, he would help the agency in a pinch—that is, as long as there was some small return favor for him involved. After all, the playboy life is expensive.

A huge man who immigrated from Norway with his family as a small. If any one word should describe this giant man, it is “Viking.” He is a touch telekinetic. This means that once he touches an object, it will move as he wishes by his will alone. Randolph is normally employed as a construction worker.

She is a top-rate information broker. She will use his telepathy to get information for anyone with the cash to pay for her services. She can be found running a small antique bookstore named Greene’s Books.

He has been a local fireman all his life. His ESP power of pyrokinetics mirrors his job. While he can make fires increase or decrease in size, he can only control small blazes for a short period of time. Usually, teams that work under him find that they can reduce fires and their destruction more quickly than most other teams. Because of his easygoing, helpful temperament, he uses his powers to help others without any payment. If approached for a just cause, he would help any Mindstream agents.

He uses his powers to assist the locals whenever they need help. It is well known in Brooklyn that this officer has a knack for locating anything that you lose. His specialty is finding lost children and pets. He is friendly, polite, and always ready to lend a hand. His ESP talent is as a locator. By use of an object or photo, he can locate on a map the person, pet, or item. He knows about Mindstream and has helped in many of their adventures in the past. He loves his current job too much to become a full-fledged member.

A Wamphyr cult leader. They started their sect of religion three years ago, and now it’s finally gaining popularity among the free love types. To date, they already have five thralls.

she knows what he did

He doesn’t know why his plants keep dying, but intuition tells him it has something to do with the mysterious man who lives in the penthouse suite

He let her into his head, and now she won’t get out

He has his sights set on immortality

”Do you believe you could change me the way I changed you?”

          “I already did.”

By the time she notices, it will be too late.

There is a lot he can’t remember—it’s been locked away, but he’s stronger than he was before and is breaking old arrest records.

She cleans crime scenes and talks to the dead

Like The Lost Boys, but worse

[intherainbowfactory]

Rainbow Factory: Escape chapter (??/??)

“...All together now, Wonder group, what is the motto of the Rainbow Factory?”

“IN THE RAINBOW FACTORY, YOUR DREAMS AND HOPES COME TRUE!” a dozen young voices shouted at once.

The guest presenter had to take a moment to check his hearing still worked, while Ms. Cheerilee held a hoof to her mouth to block out a giggle. “No windows broken? Good! Because THAT’S the kind of enthusiasm I need to hear! I only wish some of my co-workers could be so cheerful. Well,” he adopted a mock thoughtful expression, “I suppose if some of you came to work for the Rainbow Factory now…”

“Rainbow Dust!” Ms. Cheerilee chided with a grin.

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out!” Now a few groans could be heard from the foals (“Gag me with a silver spoon!”), with Sweetie Belle taking the lead in volume, and those mean fillies Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon miming gagging to each other. “What? What?” Rainbow Dust declared in his impersonation of a baffled old granny mare. Then he gave a little smirk before pulling a serious face and stating, “It’s probably for the best that you don’t like old ground-up cliches (most foals were confused when he said this) like that, since”, he sighed, “I have to leave now.”

“Ah, c’mon!” Snips whined, “Why do ya gotta go?”

“Yeah!” Snails joined in, “Tell us another story”

It took Cheerilee a couple moments and a classic teacher counting diversion to get the class on track and keep them from rioting.

Rainbow Dust had a twinkle in his eye and another winning smirk. “No. Stop. Agh. I want to go to work.”

Apple Bloom piped up, “Ah, horsefeathers. (“Language!” Cheerilee admonished.) Ahm sorry, Ms. Cheerilee, but,” she sat up and put her hooves up, “t’ain’t no way he would wanna go back ta workin’ insteada hangin’ out with us,” she focused her classic puppy-dog stare on Rainbow Dust, “wouldn’t’ya?”

At that Rainbow Dust just gave a reserved grin and a not unkind look to the little yellow-and-redhead. “Well, I guess I can answer a couple of questions from my Wonder group before I fly off…” Cheerilee agreed, and the class went into a cheer before calmly sitting back down.

“Okay, who’s first?”

About everyone’s hoof was in the air.

Scootaloo’s was waving more energetically than anyone else’s.

“Alright… you, there, sir!” He pointed.

“Yay!” It was Snips, who asked a question and got an answer that Scootaloo didn’t hear, waiting for the best moment to raise her hoof first.

Rainbow Dust took a look out the window at the sun’s direction. “Alright, I’ve only got time for one more question…”

“Ooh! Ooh! Pick me!” Scootaloo was waving both hooves in the air and fluttering her wings, gaining a hover. Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon sniggered at this, while Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle giggled goodnaturedly.

“Alright, calm down, missy. What do you want to know?” He was amused by the display.

“Ooh! Oh. Uh…” Think, Scootaloo, think! “What’re rainbows made out of?”

Cheerilee made a little moue of shock, while Diamond Tiara was still sniggering. Rainbow Dust hovered over and gave the little pegasus a little boop on the nose. “Now, that’s a trade secret, little lady! I couldn’t say, or I might get fired (“Aww…..”). But don’t be discouraged! Work hard and pass your flight exam, and you can work for our wonderful feathermilitary Factory too! I’m counting on you, chief!” and he meant it! Scootaloo was in awe! He talked to her! Maybe she’d have to take him up on that offer…!

Rainbow Dust flew back to the front of the classroom where a blushing Ms. Cheerilee stood. They exchanged a few whispers that were lost in the bustle of the class, after which Ms. Cheerilee looked as eager to teach as she usually was.

“Well, that’s about it for today… and yer takes what yer gets!” he added to the increasing pleading.

“Say thanks to our guest speaker today, class!”

“THANK YOU!” they shouted, twice as loud now.

“This is what keeps me going in this job,” Rainbow Dust admitted to Cheerilee with a warm, peaceful smile.

“I know just what you mean,” Cheerilee confessed, “My cousin’s works in the Rainbow Factory, as a… well, I get it.”

“I gotta get going. I’ll go grab my stuff.” He pranced out of the room with a glimmer in his eye and a shine dancing through his teeth. “How does he do that?!” Sweetie Belle pouted. “Waren’t ya listenin’? MAGIC RAINBOWS!” Apple Bloom responded. Scootaloo was engrossed in a day-dream of her being the most awesome Rainbow Pourer who was so good she made an eighth color appear in the rainbows and was made into the owner, so she didn’t say anything.

“Alright class, break for lunch!”

[wrxthfulguard]

yorprincess​:

wrxthfulguard​:

“Certainly, Lady Yor.” Don did back up a bit to avoid having coffee spilled onto his work uniform, but shook his head at Yor’s previously inquiry.

“You’re okay, you didn’t even run into me…. I know better than to run with a cup of warm tea.” That wasn’t a code word, but it still made sense that he was careful to not do something that would still hurt regardless of his high pain tolerance.

“Come on, let’s get the coffee delivered first, I’m in no rush for our tea talk.”

Of course, he had made sure to apply the concealer to his scar before putting on his work hat, just in case… Him being new to her co-workers did raise some questions, but he was quick to answer with the cover story he had created with Yor and her manager’s help.

“Oh good!” She practically deflated in relief, clutching the mug of coffee carefully in her hands, hoping not to spill any of the precious liquid. The section chief wasn’t exactly picky about his coffee, but Yor didn’t want to be seen as inadequate, not being up to her usual standards. Even if her mind was a mess, it wasn’t an excuse to slack off, especially since word could get back to Yuri… or worse - Loid. With a small nod, she led the way down the hallway. The journey wasn’t that far, so they could still converse amicably for a little bit before they reached a more secluded spot.

“Have you had a good morning?” She began, lips twisting slightly as she reminded herself not to mention how she knew he was watching her yesterday. That could be addressed later, though it hadn’t been bad of him to do so. He did say he would do what he could to keep her family safe and it was a day off…

“Yes, my morning was okay, just had a bowl of plain oatmeal and some toast.” It was a mundane answer, but given his limited budget, he had to be wise with his spending, so breakfast wasn’t that complicated.

“... Focus on your task first, then we’ll talk... I’m not upset or mad, just curious is all.” Don’s voice went down to a brief whisper while they walked over to where the section chief was.

“You need not to worry about me at the moment, I’m unharmed and still doing my research of this world’s lore and history.” His research had him learning a bit more about this world... Basically, his summoning had also sent him back in time to this era, so his Hellphone wouldn’t be functional here.

“Certainly, Lady Yor.” Don did back up a bit to avoid having coffee spilled onto his work uniform, but shook his head at Yor’s previously inquiry.

“You’re okay, you didn’t even run into me.... I know better than to run with a cup of warm tea.” That wasn’t a code word, but it still made sense that he was careful to not do something that would still hurt regardless of his high pain tolerance.

“Come on, let’s get the coffee delivered first, I’m in no rush for our tea talk.”

Of course, he had made sure to apply the concealer to his scar before putting on his work hat, just in case... Him being new to her co-workers did raise some questions, but he was quick to answer with the cover story he had created with Yor and her manager’s help.

[mellowsaturns]

do you hear my heart? (don’t forget it)

BUCKY BARNES X READER

wc: 3.4k

warnings: past trauma, self-doubt, mild violence, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff

summary: a fight in the office happens because of a broody super soldier which leads to said soldier coming to your apartment to check up on you

masterlist

___ 

As if life doesn’t throw enough shit in your way, getting into a fight with your co-worker was the last thing you thought your week would end with.

Okay, maybe it wasn’t completely unexpected. One of the data analysts that works in the Tower was going to get their shit rocked one day or another. If not by you, definitely another fellow colleague who actually had enough decency to keep their thoughts to themselves.

As an intelligence analyst yourself, it was unfortunate that you had to share the floor with her. Usually, you don’t pay attention to what she says because it’s irrelevant to you anyways. But today, you coincidentally heard her talking about a fellow Avenger like she knows them.

She doesn’t.

So what gives her the right to say out-loud, in her annoying voice that Steve Rogers shouldn’t have brought Bucky Barnes into the Avengers Tower because it would be a threat to all of the people here and a bunch of other nasty off-hand comments?

God that infuriated you. It really infuriated you because the next thing you knew, her white blouse was soaked in the leftover coffee you had in your mug. Let’s just say she didn’t take it well and it took some time before the two of you were pulled back, nasty snares on both of your faces.

You got an earful from your chief, something about professionalism but you weren’t really paying attention. Your focus was on the stinging of your right cheek and how nice the ice pack felt against it. Yeah. So that’s how your Friday at the office went.

Driving back home to your little apartment in Queens, the traffic gave you time to ponder about what happened and what the fuck were you thinking? Throwing coffee at a co-worker and having a little wrestling match on the floor? What in the world possessed you to do something like that?

Oh right, it was Bucky fucking Barnes.

A few years ago, Natasha asked you to find information on a trained assassin (because she doesn’t trust anyone but you) and you happily did (because you loved her like a sister). Who would’ve thought the infamous Winter Soldier you told her about was actually Steve Rogers’ long lost friend? And as Steve’s friend you obviously helped him as much as possible, finding every piece of obtainable information about Bucky’s potential whereabouts after the Triskelion mess.

And you just happened to develop a stupid crush on him.

Grunting in annoyance, your steps were heavy as you walked up the stairs. Sorry to the neighbours.

“Any harder and you’ll punch a hole straight through the floor,” a low voice called out.

Whipping your head up at the familiar voice, a surprised expression adorned your face as Bucky leaned against the wall beside your front door.

"Heard what happened today, you okay?”

Oh god. He’s here. Did you get smacked so hard that you’re actually in dreamland?

His calling of your name snapped you back from your little trance.

“How do you know where I live?” you blurted out, almost too rushed and loud that you had to shut your lips in embarrassment.

He shrugged like it was the most normal thing in the world. “Got it from Steve.”

“Oh… yeah… right.” You shifted nervously, “you want to come in?”

A single hum from him answered your question. You opened the door to your apartment and turned on the lights.

“Do you want anything to drink?” you asked, opening the fridge to gulp down a bottle of cold water to cool your growing body temperature.

“M’ fine.”

You hate how your heartbeat can’t seem to control itself whenever you're around him. Even at the Tower, you had a hard time controlling your nerves around him, but at least there were usually other people around—Steve, Nat, Sam and even Tony when he wasn’t locking himself up building his suits—who made it easier for you to carry on the conversations and the rare times when Bucky would ask you something. The Tower was also big enough to run away whenever you saw him coming into a room you were solely occupying. Where could you hide in your 600 sq. ft apartment?

“S’okay if I sit down?”

You nodded your head, gesturing for the couch. Joining him a minute later, you cleared your throat. “So… What brings you here?”

Bucky looked at you in confusion before pointing to his right cheek. Furrowing your brows, you brought your hand to your face and flinched slightly from the small jolt of pain, bringing you back to reality.

Oh yeah, that’s why he’s here.

Bucky shifted closer to you—although you could tell it was with hesitation—and tilted his head to get a better look, and sighed.

"No big deal," you said, trying to assure him and yourself at the close proximity.

"Does it hurt?"

"No," you said softly, averting your eyes to the carpet.

He frowned and scooted even closer to you. Leaning so he could take a better look, his face was mere centimeters away from yours. He used his hand to brush off the hair that stuck onto your cheek and gently touched the area. You flinched slightly, not because it gravely hurted but because Bucky's fingers were so, so cold against your burning cheek. He mumbled a quiet apology before examining it more. "Doesn’t look too bad. Should get better in a few days," he murmured to you or to himself, you didn’t quite know.

He pulled away. “Be more careful next time, okay? You don’t have to defend me. I learnt to ignore those comments.”

You looked up at him and met his eyes—eyes you could get lost in if you weren’t careful, much like the endless depth of blue waters of the oceans. “But do you believe them?”

You know he’s aware of such comments. Hiding his metal hand with leather gloves, never wearing short sleeves in the summer despite seeing the sweat drip down the sides of his face, always wearing some kind of jacket, the way he would stand or sit at the back during meetings to make his presence as minimal as possible, averting his eyes whenever someone tries to talk to him, wearing caps in public to hide portions of his face, you knew his past still haunted him.

You weren’t a stranger to such comments either. When Steve first brought Bucky to the Tower after clearing his name, all everyone could talk about was the Winter Soldier being in the same building as them. Even a year later, there was still talk, still how they can’t believe the Winter Soldier is in the same building as them with a grimace, but never about how Bucky Barnes managed to stay strong despite all the hell he’s been through with admiration.

Sometimes, the screams from his nightmares still haunt you. As the Avengers most trusted intelligence analyst, Tony had a spare room for you whenever you worked overtime. You would never forget the first time you jolted up from your sleep, frantic at the dreadful, agonizing, and heart-wrenching screams that filled the empty darkness in the Tower. Nat stalked into your room to assure you everything was okay, that it was just Bucky having nightmares again. Again. God, how many times did he get such horrible dreams? It broke your heart. Yet, when you woke up the next day and walked into the shared kitchen, Bucky was there listening to Sam crack some inappropriate joke at eight-o’clock in the morning with a small smile on his face despite his dark circles and sullen complexion. You thought to yourself at that moment that he was the strongest person you have ever met.

That’s why you get so defensive whenever someone talks about him as if they know him. They would never understand what he had gone through, and from reading the intel you had once gathered for Steve, you don’t think just anyone could have survived being under Hydra. But it was Bucky Barnes. He was strong and tough and resilient, enduring for that day someone comes and finds him and saves him from his endless hell. His recovery was brutal too. Steve would tell you about it, but all you could think about was how admirable he was, never giving up on the journey back to a normal life despite the phantom torments and prejudices against him.

You wish he knew that.

“What?” he asked breathlessly.

“Bucky… It's easy to ignore those comments, but believing them is another thing. Do you… do you believe them? What they are saying?”

He didn’t know how to reply. With that much blood on his hands alongside being brainwashed for seventy years in the most inhumane ways, he just can’t help but to believe he became what they forced upon him.

There were times when he would accidentally use too much strength and break his toothbrush. There were times when he knocked Sam over a bit too hard during training. There were times when the fork in his metal hand would bend over like a folded chair without him realizing because his metal arm still had control over him. Then there were the times people side-eyed him and hushed whispers among each other as he walked across the lobby to exit the Tower. And there were the faces of his victims that haunted him in his dreams almost every night.

So, yeah. Bucky guess he does believe what they are saying—a small part of it was the truth anyways.

“I have seventy years of repentance, doll. The soldier doesn’t just go away that easily.”

You didn’t miss the flash of guilt and sadness in his eyes (or the term of endearment from his mouth). “I think you’re being too harsh on yourself. I know you probably get sick of hearing it but that wasn’t you. It was never you. How can you repent for something you didn’t do?”

“I still did it anyway.”

“And you also chose not to. You chose to trust Steve. You chose to trust the Avengers. I know you were still weary and not quite… Bucky yet. But you still took their help. Despite everything the soldier did, you chose to be good, you chose to cut ties with him because deep down, you knew you were still Bucky Barnes. The one who used to beat up Steve’s bullies.”

He smiled slightly at that. Maybe you’re right.

Bucky can admit that he has come a long way since the cold calculated assassin he once was. He would never forget the feeling of accepting Steve’s help, the uncertainty, the unknowns, the vulnerability. But he was so sick of killing, so sick of the blood, so sick of the demands, so sick of the torture, so sick of being on the wrong side. Bucky didn’t want any of it anymore.

Living at the Avengers Tower wasn’t easy. After being alone in a dark cold chamber for almost all his life, the big unfamiliar space was difficult to adjust to. But he had Steve, and everyone else who opened up to him to provide that normalcy he never thought he would have again. And there was also you.

He would never forget the first time he saw you at the Tower, perched up on the kitchen counter, dangling the vine of grapes above your mouth as Natasha tells you about her latest mission.

You were listening attentively until she called out his name out of nowhere, making you turn around and stretch your neck to see him lingering in the hallway corner. He met your eyes and wondered how they possibly could shine so brightly. And the smile you gave him. Bucky wasn’t an artist like Steve was, but at that very moment, all he wanted to do was capture your beauty and frame it in order to preserve the moment forever.

He saw you a few more times afterwards. Twice in the training room, three times in the lobby, six times in the living room, eight times in the meeting room, and ten times in the kitchen.

He should have been more careful around you. Despite being friendly with Steve, you were still a stranger. But after you left during his first encounter with you that day in the kitchen, Nat quietly told him that you were the one who spent hours digging up information to pinpoint his whereabouts, helping them find him and gathering enough intel to help clear his name. He thinks he has trusted you ever since.

He still found it difficult to talk to people like Tony or Bruce or Clint. But with you, it was so easy. It was so easy to talk to you. So easy to be around you. So easy to touch you—like he just did moments ago. Bucky wasn't a man of many words—that was a lifetime ago—but with you, he felt like the old Bucky could come back, the one who effortlessly charmed girls into a dinner and a dance.

But there were times he noticed you exiting rooms whenever he came by. He noticed how your voice sort of shakes whenever you talk to him in the Tower. And he thinks that the Bucky Barnes from the 40s who girls absolutely adored was long gone.

“So… why did you come here? Like really come here?” You asked once again.

Not that you mind, it was always a joy to see him. But there was no way he came because he was worried about you right? You were just some analyst that spent way too much time in the Avengers living quarters who free loaded their kitchen.

But he looked so worried. And he touched your cheek like it was no big deal, and it looked like it was painful for him to see you in such a state that it made your own heart clench.

“Just came to check up on you,” he replied.

During training, Steve came in to tell him that you got in a physical fight with one of your co-workers today. Bucky was confused as to why Steve would tell him this, but he couldn’t stop and began bombarding him with questions: if you were okay, if you needed to go to the hospital bay, if you needed emergency care, if you were at the hospital right now, who was the person who hurted you, what was their name. Sam came in shortly afterwards and told him the whole story—because of course Sam would know the details—and Bucky rushed out of the training room not before Steve gave him your address because somehow he knew Bucky would come here.

He knew he shouldn’t have come here. He knew you would have felt uncomfortable in his presence. Why else would you act the way you do around him? Maybe he should leave before he does anything stupid and scare you off for good.

But you had said all those comforting words to him prior. You understood him, you helped him, you were friendly to him, you reassured him—and he knew it wasn’t out of pity or a paycheck, it was out of the goodness of your own heart. And you sometimes looked at him with such sparkle in your eyes that he wanted to pinch himself to see if he was dreaming.

“Thank you. But I’m okay, really. You should head back to the Tower, it’s getting late.” Although, what you really wanted to say was: “Thank you for coming here. It means a lot. But really, I would do it again in a heartbeat.”

“Why?”

Huh?  

He must’ve noticed your confusion. “Why would you… hurt yourself to… defend me?”

You really said the latter out loud. Oh god… Might as well admit the truth right?

“Because… because I think you’re worth fighting for.” And that was the absolute truth.

Bucky knows you’re not a super soldier with enhanced hearing, but he wonders if you can hear his rapid heartbeat right now.

The Winter Soldier had hurt people and Bucky was hurt by people. But here you were, hurting people and getting hurt because of him—for him. He didn’t know whether to yell at you or hug you.

“I’m serious. You’re so… inspiring. I admire you a lot,” you added, just to make sure he knows.

Bucky released the breath he didn’t even know he was holding. “I always thought you were afraid of me. A bit, anyways. You’re so cheerful around others but whenever I come around… I would see you leaving and whenever I ask you for help on my phone, your voice sometimes shakes and I—”

“Bucky!” You called out to stop his rambling. Did you seriously make him feel like that because of your own inability to control your feelings for him? You wanted to smack yourself. “I am not afraid of you. Never. I’m sorry I made you feel that way. I’m… I’m just not very good at hiding my feelings.”

“Hide your feelings?”

You laughed. “Isn’t it obvious? I like you. More than I should. It’s stupid. I’m sorry if I’m making you uncomfortable by telling you this. I understand if you don’t feel the same. You’re healing and you shouldn’t be thinking about things like dating and love. And besides, I’m just some nobody analyst who Tony pays way too much for no reason.”

Bucky was speechless. Did you really think you were a nobody?

“You’re not a nobody… you’re you. The one everyone in the team depends on. You’re so important to the team. I’ve only been around for a year or so but I can tell they love you. Everyone in the Tower. You’re important. You’re family.”

You think you could cry. But then he continues. “You’re important to me. You make me feel… normal. As close to normal I can get anyways. When I look at you, when I’m around you, I feel like I can be… Bucky. I know I still have a long way to go, but everytime I see you, I feel like I have a reason to try harder. And if it's anything, I feel like I don’t deserve someone like you in my life because you’re this beautiful human being and I’m this—”

You were seriously crying now, and Bucky stopped. You were always doubtful about your skills and importance, but Bucky’s sincere words… you wanted to enclose them in a locket and wear it forever to make sure your heart always remembered them.

“What’s wrong? Did I say—”

You shook your head and wiped the tears away. “No, you didn’t say anything wrong.” You laughed, “That was the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me. Thank you.” You knew he meant all those words from the bottom of his heart. And that subtle confession… you think you could die.

God, the two of you were absolute idiots.

“You… believe me right?” said Bucky.

You nodded, “if only you believe me.”

Bucky wanted to tell you that your words meant more to him than any kind of counsel and guidance that his therapist had told him. But the silence between the two of you was so comforting that he just wanted to stay like this. He will tell you another time. After tonight, he thinks he has all the time in the world to tell you—tell you everything—without the barrier of unsure feelings and hesitancy.

After a moment of serene silence, you looked up and met his eyes again and smiled. “You know. You just made me like you a hundred times more than I already do.”

“You like me?”

“Did you not hear what I just said earlier?”

He smirked. “Mm’ just wanted to hear you say it again.” There he was, the Bucky from the 40s who charmed girls out of their socks.

You snorted. “I like you. I like you so much that I think I would have exploded if I held it in any longer. Happy?”

He nodded, and cleared his throat once his eyes averted to your cheek again. “You should probably ice your….”

“I have frozen peas in my freezer.”

“I’ll get it,” he said, getting up and stalking towards your refrigerator. As you watched him from behind, you noticed he didn’t wear his gloves. He never forgets his glove before going out. And when he came back with the miserable looking green bag, he used his left hand to hold the bag against your cheek. The fact that Bucky chose to use his metal hand this time instead of his fleshy right one like you remembered him doing when he brushed your hair out of your face—it made your heart swell.

[fightxxmexxshiggy]

HOT DAY AND A TIRED MAN

This fic is dedicated to @lovelyladyraven for being my first ever paid commission.

Shouta Aizawa x fem reader

Tw:dangerous situation, breeding, OVERSTIMULATION

Word count: 3.5k

This was not how you had planned to spend your day. Your boss had decided that the roof needed to be cleaned on the second hottest day this summer! Of course you were the only one who had just finished up their task so he sent you to do it by yourself with a promise of sending the next available person up to switch with you soon. Instead you had spent two hours cleaning up dirt and shining the vents on a roof that no one but maintenance workers ever set foot on! Once you had seen how much time had passed you went to the door with every intention of stomping down the stairs and clocking out, not willing to do overtime just to clean a roof. But the knob wouldn't turn no matter how hard you pulled. You banged on the door a few times only to realize that one of the idiots that you work with had locked the door. Quickly you took out your phone and called the store phone no answer, then your boss's phone no answer, then you called the two other coworkers who had been working with you today. Not a single person answered you! You went over to the side of the building that looked over the parking lot seeing that all their cars were already gone from their usual spots. The bastards had left for the day and left you locked on the roof with no way to go home or even get water. You tried for another 30 minutes to reach your boss and coworkers only for them to start rejecting your calls. They did this on purpose. You went and sat in the shade of the roof door access and took a few calming breaths. You knew that they weren't going to come back until tomorrow and you also knew that they probably expected you to sit up here and cry waiting till morning for them to come and "save" you. So instead you looked up the number for the local fire department. Once someone picked up you heard a deep gravelly voice through the speaker. 

"Fire station 6 what can I help you with?" 

The man seemed tired and kind of put out but instead of apologizing for bothering him like your brain was screaming at you to do, you cleared your throat and spoke. You gave him a detailed rundown of your situation and explained that you would have called the emergency line first except your boss's wife worked the police directory and if he was locking you on the roof like this you were afraid that his wife would just not send anyone to help you. It was a small town and things like that were constantly looked over as long as you knew the right people. He hummed in agreement.

" That's sad but true. I know your boss and his wife well enough that you're probably 100 percent right about what they would do and how they would cover this up. They've done it before. Me and a few guys will be there in about 20 minutes to come get you down. Just keep calm and do your best to stay out of the sun until then we don't need you getting any more dehydrated than you already are."

He gave a quick goodbye and hung up. You breathed a sigh of relief knowing that you had chosen correctly when you called the fire station. You sat in the shade and tried to put a face to the voice of the tired firefighter who would be coming to free you from your rooftop prison. Like a fool you had never asked his name. As you thought about it you started to get a bit lightheaded. It had definitely been too long since you had any water. The heat was starting to get to you now that your adrenaline had stopped pumping so hard. With nothing else to do you layed down as much in the shade as you could and did a breathing exercise. During your exercise you must have blacked out because the next thing you knew you were being carried down the stairs in a set of strong arms. 

The person carrying you was speaking to you but you couldn't make out what they were saying over the fog that was covering your brain. You knew the sound of that voice though. It was the tired firefighter but he sounded a whole lot less tired and a whole lot more angry. You really hoped he wasn't angry at you. Maybe you were too heavy and he was annoyed at having to lug you down the stairs. With a weak hand you reached up maybe to apologize somehow, but ended up cupping his cheek. His stubble felt funny in your already funny feeling hand. He stopped walking at the feeling of your hand on his face. You still couldn't open your eyes so instead you mumbled a garbled sorry and proceeded to pass back out going limp. The last thing you heard was the tired firefighter yelling at someone, maybe you?

You woke up again this time to the feeling of something plastic on your face. Opening your eyes was still a bit too much for you so you listened and tried to figure out what was going on. You vaguely remember the tired voice you had spoken to before you felt light headed and the feeling of being carried. As you listened you could make out the sounds of machines. Slowly you took stock of your body. You were sore and kinda warm but you could move a little bit. You breathed deeply, finally realizing that the plastic was an oxygen tube. You were definitely in the hospital then. After a few more minutes your eyes were in good enough condition that you opened them to look around the room. When you did you saw someone slumped in the chair in the corner. This was incredibly strange since you had no family in this town. Doing your best you cleared your throat preparing to ask who they were. At your sound the person's head shot up, eyes wide. 

It was a man with tired eyes and long black hair that was on the scruffy side; it easily matched the stubble of a beard on his chin and cheeks. He stood up definitely tall enough to tower over you even when you were standing up yourself. The man walked to your bedside and took a deep breath before speaking. 

"It's good to see you awake little one. I was beginning to think you weren't going to wake up. I'm the firefighter you spoke to asking for help when you were on the roof. I have a lot to explain to you but I'm gonna call the doctor in and have them look you over before anything else."

He called out into the hall after that and a doctor and a nurse bustled into the room within minutes. Your throat was too dry to answer their questions so you stuck to little nods and head shakes as they began to check your vitals and adjust your iv drip. Once they were sure you were stable enough you were once again left with your savior and no voice to thank him with. He came closer and pulled the chair along with him to settle in for your conversation. 

"So you've been out of it for about 3 days. You got sunstroke while you were on the roof and your boss had double locked the door to get in and the door to the roof which slowed us down in getting to you. Your boss and his wife and your 2 coworkers have all been arrested. It was your boss's idea though apparently he kept hitting on you but you didn't give him the time of day so he wanted to teach you a lesson. His wife had your name flagged so that if you had called for help it would have given a dispatcher a notification to ignore you as a false reporter. His wife found out about his interest in you and was planning on making sure you were stuck on that roof all night. Your coworkers just went along with it because they didn't want to deal with your boss's anger."

Hearing all this pissed you off beyond belief. They could have killed you all because you would be a man's mistress and the man's wife would rather hurt someone than confront her husband. He looked at your face and patted your knee knowing there was nothing he could say that would make you feel any better about this. You looked up at him and grabbed his hand and brought it to your forehead, touching his knuckles there before placing a kiss on them. You were kind of happy that you couldn't really talk just yet because the blush on this man's cheeks was well worth the dry throat. He poured you a cup of water and handed it to you. You gave him a small smile and drank it gratefully. 

Eventually you could speak some and the two of you formally introduced yourselves. He was Shouta Aizawa, the fire station chief and local fire safety instructor for this area. He hadn't felt right leaving you alone after he had gotten you off the roof and found that you lived alone in this town. He came off very blunt and serious but you could see his deep kindness in his actions. The doctors came back in, cutting your conversation short and making Shouta go back to his spot in the corner. After a few more checks the doctors cleared you to go home the following day as long as you had someone to watch over you for the next three days till your follow up appointment was. You frowned cause you did have any close friends who could do that for you. As you pondered over it you heard Shouta's voice over the doctor's. 

"If you don't have a problem I can have you stay over in the guestroom at my house. I was already on a temp leave due to watching over you here so it wouldn't be much different with you at my house."

This man with a deep whiskey voice truly had a heart of gold. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth you readily agreed. After you had been up a few more hours and had a little bit to eat, Shouta left with the promise of a freshly cleaned room waiting for you tomorrow. You fell asleep that night feeling more cared for than you ever truly had. You woke up again slightly disoriented and thirsty but in much better condition than you had been the day prior. It was early so you took your time shaking the numbness out of your limbs and getting back your bearings. The nurse came in fussing about you standing with calling anyone to be a catcher for you. She stopped fussing though when she realized that you were indeed stable enough to walk to the bathroom alone. 

Shouta had called the nurses station around 10 to let them know he'd be there by 12. With a few puppy dog looks you had a shower chair and an orderly who helped wash your hair and walk you back to bed. They had given you some hospital pajamas that you happily wore instead of the ugly gowns you had woken up in. You were clean and relaxed by the time Shouta had arrived to sign you out of the hospital. A nurse came around with a wheelchair and wheeled you down to the exit while the car was brought around. Shouta opened the door for the backseat but instead of giving you a hand to climb in he leaned down and scooped you out of the chair. Once you had been sat comfortably on the seat he shut the door leaving you with a moment to appreciate just how strong his arms were.

The drive to Shouta's home was relatively quick as is the way of small towns. His house was nice and seemed to be a cozy ranch style. After pulling into the garage you tried to get out yourself only to be caught up against a hard chest as your legs gave out the moment they were made to take your full weight. You looked up to see an exasperated glare. Part of your brain filled with chastised thoughts as the other filled with dirty thoughts. You really had to be better behaved when It came to your savior and benefactor but with him being so sinfully attractive it was kinda hard to do. Once again you were carried by the tired man this time into his home and deposited on the lone couch in his living room. He sat on his coffee table and faced you with a sigh. 

"You're really gonna have to rely on me for a few days brat. Your body is trying to heal and you pushing it as you just did isn't doing the process any favors."

You sighed and agreed with him. After a short conversation about a few things you might need from the store and checking about any food allergies he got ready and  headed to the store. You sat alone watching tv before clicking into his YouTube app to see what he watched most. A loud laugh burst from your chest as you realized that most of his watch history was full of cat videos and a few interviews with a local late night radio host. You watched the radio hosts videos thoroughly entertained by his boisterous personality. The next thing you knew you were being shaken awake by Shouta having fallen asleep with videos still playing on the tv. He helped you up and walked you to the bathroom and waited outside before scooping you up yet again. He was making it so damn hard not to think dirty thoughts when he kept carrying you around as if you were a small animal or something. Like sir the butterflies are in the stomach now but they will quickly fly south if you keep being so quietly sexy. A few hours later you were lying in bed when your thoughts finally got the best of you and had you touching your pussy as images of Shouta glaring down at you with his arms crossed showed behind your eyelids.

You had no idea how loud you were being as you rubbed your clit harshly, trying to get to the finish line. As you came you choked out his name. While you panted and came down from your high Shouta made his way back to his room quietly. He leaned back against his door and made a call before laying in his bed to jerk his very hard, very neglected cock. His brain kept replaying the sounds you made, the way you choked out his name as you came, how a satisfied little smile curled on your lips after you reached the finish line. He came with a growl, satisfied but not. He was definitely going to end up in trouble by the end of the week and he couldn't find it in himself to care. The following two days followed the same pattern, spending the day together and spending the night getting off to thoughts of the other in separate rooms. Though you were surprised to find that Shouta regularly walked around the house in nothing but sweatpants holding a full mug of coffee. On the fourth day you had become well enough to no longer need to be carried or walked everywhere. You were a little confused by Shouta's attitude as he had been glaring at the space above your head for most of the day. Finally tired of him doing this, you confronted him about it. You were not expecting his answer in the slightest. 

"I've spent the last three nights hearing you play with your pussy while calling my name, I'm hard enough to hammer nails and I can't get out any over this energy cause I'm supposed to be watching out for you. All I wanna do is fuck you till you lose your mind. me glaring above your head has been me doing my best not to seduce you like an asshole."

He said everything in such a deadpan manner that you couldn't help but laugh. Once you caught your breath you grinned at him and pulled your shirt off over your head. Sitting on his couch with your tits hanging free and your nipples hardening in the cool air you proceeded to play with them. You were immediately picked up and taken to his room before being dropped on the bed. Never let it be said that the tired man couldn't move fast as you were stripped of your remaining clothes before he stripped himself bare. He pulled you to the edge of his bed by your ankles and dropped to his knees, a fierce smile on his lips. 

"Been wanting to taste this bratty pussy for days. Bet it's as sweet as it looks."

His first lick was long. From your hole all the way over your clit. The squeak you let out at the feeling only made him more hungry. He spent what felt like an endless amount of time licking and thrusting his tongue as deep into your pussy as he could. By the time he finally gave your clit some much needed attention his chin was covered in pussy juice and your hole was fluttering as if it was seeking to be filled. Shouta teased you with a few small licks over your clit, making you whine and beg him to give you more. His arms wrapped around your thighs as he locked eyes with you and sucked your clit into his mouth. He sucked hard making you scream and thrash wildly. Your hands were buried in his hair as you squirted into his mouth. Your hips only stayed on the bed because of his strong arms keeping you in place. When he finally released your clit pussy juice was steadily leaking from your still twitching hole. 

"Oh did I break you already? You were so bold before and now you're just a mess. Think you can take my cock or do you want me to tuck you in for a nap."

The shit eating grin on his face was enough for you to pull his hair and glare at him. He sat up and shoved your wrists above your head to hold in one of his large hands. Slowly he worked his fat dripping cock into your almost too tight pussy. You whined and moaned his name as he finally bottomed out hitting your back wall. He stretched you more than you ever had been before but it was so damn good. Shouta started slow, one hand gripping your thigh as he ignored your demands for him to speed up.

"You're gonna take what I give you like a good girl or I'll just pull out and cum all over you right now."

That shut you up except for the constant stream of moans that left your throat. Just as you were finally getting used to being split by such a thick cock he changed his rhythm. Fast pounding thrusts that knocked the breath from your lungs were nearly constant. You didn't have enough breath to scream so you sobbed. Your half words were incoherent except for "sho please." Shouta leaned down and whispered in your ear as his thrusts once again spread up. He bit your ear lobe before making you lose your mind. 

"Such a tight little hole. I can't believe I had the strength to ignore it for three days. I could have at least eaten it while you laid back and rested. God I'm gonna have you for breakfast tomorrow." 

The utter heat in his words threw you over the edge making you cum so hard you began to shake. He growled as your pussy clenched down on him. Shouta sunk his teeth into the pillow by your head before shoving his cock against your cervix and shooting his cum against it. As soon as he finished cuming he started to thrust again. No slow start this time, just hard pounding thrusts that made you wail in pleasure. It didn't take long for you to cum again but Shouta lasted longer this time entirely fucking his cum out of you before finally cuming inside again just as deep as the first time. 

He pulled out and laid down next to you before pulling you on to his chest. You both panted trying to breathe like normal human beings again. Right as your breathing evened out you heard a voice from the doorway. And looked up to see the blonde radio host trailing his eyes over the two of you.

"I told you you wouldn't make it till I got home sho."

[freedomseeker91]

Begin Again....

Chapter: One-Shot

Title: Begin Again

Summary: Chloe Beale's whole world is shattered on what should of been a day of celebration for her one year wedding anniversary. Feeling lost and unsure about her future, a chance encounter while visiting the West Coast presents her with the opportunity to begin again in a place that may just free her from the pain of her past.

Rating: Angst/Comfort

Warnings: Major Character Death

“Beale, what are you doing working the ER floor, don’t you have surgeries to be tending to?”

Chloe looked up from where she had been stitching the hand of a construction worker with a deep laceration. She caught the eye of Dr. Abernathy and huffed out a laugh.

“I was till I cleared my board and caught up on all my paper work. ER was looking a little busy today so figured this would be a better use of my time. Plus, one of the interns passed out.”

Dr. Abernathy watched as Chloe finished off her work with surgical precision, and then rolled her eyes at the mention of interns as she caught sight of the one in question sitting in the corner with their head between their legs. They were a pain in her back side, a necessary evil granted, however this particular bunch seemed hopeless at times.

“You know you could always come down full time,” Abernathy replied, a level of playfulness to her tone. Chloe simply chuckled as she removed her gloves and explained after care to the man sitting on the bed before excusing herself.

“Gail you and I both know I’m your best cardiothoracic surgeon. What would you do without my skills and talents in the OR?” Chloe sassed back.

“That’s Chief to you Dr. Beale and if it wasn’t for the fact that you are my best Cardio surgeon there’s a lot I could be doing with your talents,” Gail responded as they approached the lift.

The door opened to reveal Dr. Aubrey Posen and Dr. Chicago Walp already inside. As Chloe and Gail entered, Chicago couldn’t reframe himself from passing comment towards his favourite surgeon.

“Looking radiant as ever Dr. Beale,” he grinned, the same grin that usually bowled women over, unfortunately for him, not this particular women.

“Still married Walp,” Chloe responded, flashing the wedding band on her finger before turning her back on him. Gail shook her head, her back to Chicago with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Walp, if I catch you harassing a member of my staff again, I won’t hesitate to have you removed from my rounds. And before you open that smug mouth of yours I don’t care that your daddy’s on the board.”

The man stood there with his mouth closed, jaw clenched tight as he bit down the words that had been about to fall out. Chloe and Aubrey simply chuckled and watched on with amusement as he bolted out of the elevator once it stopped on the next floor.

“Thanks Chief,” Chloe said and Gail simply shrugged it off.

“I never liked that guy. Any opportunity to put him in his place is a good day in my book.”

Once the elevator reached the next destination all three women stepped out and proceeded to make their way down the floor to ceiling glass corridor that opened out into the main entrance area of the hospital.

Upon reaching the main reception, all three women spotted a slightly shorter brunette dressed in a dark navy suit with pale blue button down blouse and navy converse, a gun holster and a badge clipped to her belt, standing talking to Emily the receptionist.

A beaming smile took over Chloe’s face as she approached the woman.

“Bec’s,” she called out, gaining the attention of the woman at reception.

Seeing the ginger approaching, Beca stood up from her place leaned against the desk and picked up the bouquet of flowers as she made her way over to the approaching doctor.

Once in reaching distance, Chloe wrapped her arms around Beca’s neck and pulled her close planting a kiss on her lips. Beca grinned into it before it came to a natural end and smiled at the woman before her.

“Happy one year anniversary,” she said, as she raised up the bouquet and presented the flowers to her wife.

Chloe couldn’t stop the smile as she accepted the gift her wife handed to her. The flowers were beautiful, but it was the fact Beca was there at all that meant the most to her.

The brunette had done a magnificent job of letting on that she had forgotten what day it was that morning over breakfast. Rushing about getting ready for work and then dashing out of the house before Chloe had uttered a word.

To say she had been upset was an understatement. It was their first wedding anniversary, it was supposed to be special. She should’ve known her wife wouldn’t have forgotten.

Beca loved to surprise her, didn’t matter if it was a special occasion or just a random Tuesday evening when they both weren’t working, her wife loved springing little surprise dates and gifts on her.

It was Beca’s way of reminding Chloe that she was special, and that Beca knew better than to take their relationship for granted. Just because they were married didn’t mean she would be complacent.

Their jobs were full on, both women accustomed to working irregular shift patterns and unsociable hours. It was part in parcel of being a successful surgeon and a dedicated police detective.

They knew when they started dating that their relationship would often be tested by that, but they compensated for it by making the most of the time when their schedules did align and by doing little things to remind the other that they were important.

“Bec’s they’re beautiful,” Chloe sighed running a finger along one of the petals of the flowers. A smile etched its way across Beca’s lips.

“I also booked us a table at that Chinese place you love for tonight and then maybe we can head home, spend some quality time together, open that expensive bottle of champagne your dad gave us at our wedding to toast this very occasion.”

It sounded perfect to Chloe. With her job as a surgeon and Beca’s job as a detective with the NYPD, they didn’t always have time to just chill out together. It was difficult, but what was even more difficult, was the years Chloe had spent trying to quell her fears and anxieties over her wife’s job.

There were numerous times Beca had been in sticky situations, ones that could’ve been close calls. She dealt with the real scum of the earth, the people who had no regard for human life, or the knock on effect of what taking that life could mean.

The monsters that lurked in the NYC underworld, and down murky side streets, those were the criminals that Beca faced time and again. There had been a few close calls throughout the course of their relationship, but Beca had always promised to be as safe as possible.

It had taken some time but Chloe adjusted. She just had to trust in her wife’s capabilities, and in the knowledge that Beca’s partner, and best friend, had her back.

Jesse Swanson was a god send. He and Beca had come up the ranks together, established a formidable partnership and more importantly, had each other’s backs. One of the first things he had ever said to Chloe when Beca first introduced them, was that he promised to always try and make sure that the brunette made it home.

That was all Chloe could ask for. Being a surgeon had made her privy to death and and the various ways a life could be lost. It weighed heavily on Chloe’s mind at times. Especially when she would see police officers from Beca’s precinct walk though the ER door, or worse, in her operating room.

She’d had to break devastating news to families throughout the course of her career and she never wanted to experience that pain herself. But she also knew that she couldn’t ask that of the universe. It wasn’t for her to interfere with life’s plan. All she could do was hope that her life plan included Beca for as long as possible.

“Sounds perfect to me,” Chloe whispered before planting another sweet kiss to Beca’s lips and the brunette grinned.

“Reservation is at eight so we’ll have plenty of time to change after work. I gotta get back to the station but I’ll see you at home. I love you Mrs. Mitchell.”

Beca pressed one more loving kiss to Chloe’s lips and then pulled back, stepping away with a sweet smile on her face before heading for the exit.

“Mitchell? I thought you were Beale?” Emily said from behind the reception desk, nabbing Chloe’s attention. The redhead smiled at her.

“It is Beale, professionally anyways. I built my career as a surgeon around the name Chloe Beale and that’s who everyone here knows me as, so I decided to just keep using it for my job. But I’m totes a Mitchell legally. Any legal forms I sign have Mitchell instead of Beale.”

Emily gave her that look of understanding, sensing that being established and having something that had success behind it meant a lot to Chloe. She could understand not wanting to part with her name in that respect.

“Is Beca cool with you using two names?” Emily asked and Chloe nodded.

“Oh totes. She thinks the whole idea of having to take the name of the person you’re marrying is some “patriarchal bullshit” designed by men to claim ownership and that a name shouldn’t define a persons entire identity anyways. But it was something I wanted to do, so I did.”

Emily nodded, it made sense in a way. People put too much emphasis on what a name actually is. To the extent some people were shunned purely because their name was associated with someone or something thought less than wholesome, even if the name was of no real reflection on the persons own personal character.

Similarly names had a way of elevating people purely because of the weight they carried, even if the person wearing it wasn’t fit to live up to it. A name like Walp for instance. Names were strange like that.

“Oh almost forgot,” Emily suddenly shrieked excitedly, reaching behind her desk to retrieve a gift bag from Tiffany’s and handing it over to Chloe.

“Beca told me to give this to you after she left.”

Chloe’s heart melted as she placed the flowers down and accepted the bag, removing a box large enough to fit a necklace in. She unwrapped the white bow from around it and removed the lid to reveal a white gold chain with an infinity loop pendent encrusted in diamonds.

It must have cost Beca a small fortune but it was the sentimentality behind it that meant the most to Chloe. Her wife had an infinity loop with Chloe’s name designed into it tattooed under her left breast, close to her heart.

Emily caught a glimpse of the necklace and gushed at how gorgeous it was as Chloe tried to stem the flow of happy tears that had sprung to her eyes. Eventually they were interrupted by somebody arriving at the reception desk and Chloe took that as her cue to get back to work, but not before Gail and Aubrey gushed about the whole display they had just witnessed.

 ****Begin Again****

“Somebody’s got that love glow. I take it you got to meet the beautiful Dr. Beale in person,” Jesse said as he handed a styrofoam cup of coffee to Beca as she reached the car.

Beca rolled her eyes with a side grin on her face, gratefully accepting the cup of coffee as they both leaned up against the side of the car.

“Dude, Chloe and I have been married for a year and been together for six, let’s drop the movie romantics,” Beca replied, removing the cap from her coffee cup and taking a healthy sip. Jesse just grinned at her.

“Love looks good on you Mitchell. Who would’ve thought the Doc that stitched your head back together would be the same Doc to steal your heart away.”

Beca rolled her eyes at his sentiments. She loved her partner, but Jesse’s penchant for mushy statements still weren’t endearing to Beca.

It wasn’t that Beca wasn’t romantic or hated PDA, clearly not considering the move she had just pulled, she just had a more reserved approach to it. She would rather surprise Chloe with breakfast in bed or little gifts than make grand romantic gestures.

She loved making Chloe feel special, but that didn’t mean she enjoyed having lots of prying eyes surveying her as she did it. Her gestures were just for Chloe and she preferred to keep it that way.

She could still vividly recall that day they met in the ER. Chloe had been occupying her time on the graveyard shift by assessing some walk ins when Beca arrived in with a nice little split along her hairline next to her temple.

Getting whacked across the head with a crowbar hadn’t been how she planned to end her night chasing down some petty crooks, but low and behold it sent her to the ER where she found herself at the mercy of a stunning red head with the touch of an Angel.

By touch, she literally meant her wife had serious skills. Beca had been patched up enough times by interns and nurses who had sown her up like she was an inanimate couch cushion that she was well aware of when she was being treated by someone who knew what they were doing and how to treat people with care.

Yes, the scar on the left of Beca’s head was a not so subtle reminder of the night she had met what she then considered to be her future wife. Luckily for her, the career oriented Dr. Beale had also taken a liking to Beca’s plucky, quick witted nature and a beautiful relationship was born.

As Beca and Jesse continued to converse over trivial topics such as the Mets game the night before, the police radio suddenly sounded out, alerting them to sketchy activity going on down near the docks. Beca quickly glanced up at her partner.

“Sounds like the Falcone cartel,” Beca stated and Jesse nodded his head to agree.

They had been tailing the cartel for months, knowing they were on to a major drug smuggling ring. But so far they hadn’t been able to pinpoint enough evidence to bring them in. This may have been the breakthrough they were looking for.

Climbing into the car, Jesse hopped into the drivers seat and pulled off while Beca announced over the frequency that they would be joining the call out as back up.

****Begin Again****

“Don’t you have an anniversary dinner to be getting to?” Aubrey asked, as she stopped by the nurses station to hand over some files, Chloe propped up against the counter jotting some notes down in her own file at that moment.

“Beca booked a late dinner so I figured I’d get some of my charts up to date before I leave,” she replied, flipping the one she had been working on closed and placing it in the rack with the others.

Walking over to the board she scanned the schedule and pencilled in a surgery for the following day before joining Aubrey as they made their way towards the exit to the coffee dock that parked outside the hospital.

Several ambulances pulled up to the bay as they walked out and they watched as trolleys were unloaded and rushed inside by the waiting doctors. They overheard one of the paramedics mention something about a shootout between the police and some drug cartel before rushing inside

Two officers where wheeled in first followed by what appeared to be two members of the cartel, their hands cuffed to the side rails of their trolleys being tailed by uniformed officers.

Aubrey shook her head as they both turned and continued on towards the dock, passing two more ambulances as they went. Chloe ordered a coffee and a black tea and handed over a $10 bill before they took a seat on the bench just next to the dock.

“You know I used to think our job was tough but every time I see that it makes me second guess myself,” Aubrey said as she gestured back towards the ER bay. Chloe frowned as she gulped down some of the hot liquid, feeling it warm her from the inside out.

“What do you mean?” She asked turning to face her colleague and one of her closest confidantes. Aubrey turned to face her.

“Don’t get me wrong I know we find ourselves in positions where one decision could be the difference between saving or losing a life, but I don’t think I could deal with willingly walking into danger, literally tempting fate with my own life to save another.”

Chloe had spent too many hours contemplating this knowledge over the years whenever Beca would arrive home with a new bump or scratch. Her wife never went into too much detail about tough causes, mainly as Chloe knew all too well, she didn’t want her wife to know just how dangerous the situation was.

She didn’t want Chloe to have to live with that worry. But that didn’t mean Chloe’s mind didn’t sometimes draw its own conclusions. As a doctor she’d seen enough to know the difference between an accident and a close call. A slight misstep and a forced error.

So while Beca could try and sooth her with the watered down version of events, the reality was, Chloe’s medical training often painted the picture for her and that was enough for her to not want to know the details in any great depth.

Sometimes ignorance was bliss. The more Chloe knew the more she would worry and she didn’t want to be that person that held Beca back from her career out of fear. Beca was careful, she never acted on impulse, every move was made with careful consideration of the consequences.

But there were risks to dealing with cons and criminals. The main one being that they didn’t care for the consequences, as was evident from their career choice, and that often meant rolling the dice and hoping for the best when entering into certain situation.

With their coffees now emptied and a couple more hours ahead of them, Chloe and Aubrey sauntered back towards the hospital, both their pagers receiving alerts as they walked.

“So much for a quiet evening,” Aubrey said as she silenced her pager, “It’s the ER, they most need back up.”

Chloe nodded as she silenced her own pager and continued her way towards the entrance heading straight for the pit. As they rounded the nurses station, they were met by Gail whose face was nothing short of stoic.

“What’s up Chief? Where do you need us?” Chloe asked, her hands coming up to rest on the ends of the stethoscope around her neck.

Gail looked towards Aubrey.

“I need you in trauma room 4 now!” She ordered leaving no room for argument as Aubrey took off at a sprint. Chloe watched her leave and then turned to Gail.

“Geez that bad huh,” Chloe queried and Gail rested a hand on the redheads forearm, gently pulling her towards a nearby on call room and closing the door behind them.

“Chloe I need you to listen carefully to what I’m about to say and do as I ask. I need you to be a wife right now, not a doctor.”

At this Chloe’s heart started racing in her chest and she felt a knot forming in her stomach as Gail’s face began to show cracks of emotion.

“Gail...” she whispered, barely finding her voice, “Gail what’s going on you’re scaring me.”

Gail briefly glanced down at the floor to compose herself and took a deep breath, forcing the Chief of Medicine mask back into place and banishing the friend that wanted desperately to appear.

“The paramedics brought Beca in a couple of minutes ago. There was a shoot out down at the docks...”

Before Gail could even finish, Chloe unleashed a chocked sob. She had been there when the first ambulance arrived. She had watched from the bench outside as more ambulance trucks passed through. How could she not have known her wife was one of them?

“How bad is it?” She asked, terrified of the answer. Gail tried to compose her thoughts to answer but it wasn’t quick enough for Chloe’s rapidly racing mind as she rushed past her superior and out the door.

One by one she barged through curtains and doors looking for the one person who shouldn’t have been there, Gail following behind trying desperately to calm the doctor down, but to no avail.

When Chloe reached Trauma Room 4 she burst through the door and almost collapsed to her knees.

Aubrey glanced up from where she had been applying thick gauze bandages over a bulllet hole that was oozing blood at an alarming rate. Her mouth dropping open in shock as she gazed from the redhead at the door back down to the police detective who had been drifting in and out of consciousness.

“Ch....Chlo...,” came the strangled voice and Aubrey turned to see denim blue eyes staring unfocused up at her as if pleading for her to bring her the one person she desperately wanted.

“Chloe she needs you,” Aubrey shouted over the hustle and bustle around the room, the ginger somehow finding the strength to cross the room and reach the opposite side of the bed of where Aubrey was standing.

She gazed down to find that her wife’s shirt had been ripped open and a chest drain inserted to clear the blood from her lungs, then she looked up to find Aubrey’s gloved hands pressing down over the bullet hole, the thick bloody gauze beneath them doing little to stop the flow.

And then finally her eyes locked on her wife and she reached down and gripped her hand, hugging it close to her chest. Beca seemed to finally focus on the halo of red hair next to her bed.

“C-c-chlo,” Beca stuttered, adrenaline and shock running on high as a tear slipped past her defences. Chloe leaned down and combed her fingers through her wife’s hair pressing her lips to her forehead.

“I’m here baby, it’s okay. It’s gonna be okay,” Chloe whispered, her own tears falling at an unstoppable rate. Gail watched on from the doorway powerless to stop the interaction now that Beca was aware of Chloe’s presence.

Aubrey looked to her Chief wondering what to do and how best to proceed. Gail simply gave her that look, the one that told her that the couple needed this moment, as they may never get to have another one and Aubrey briefly faltered in her work, before quickly pulling herself together and reapplying pressure to Beca’s chest wound.

While the rest of the world continued to move around them, Chloe and Beca remained lost inside their own bubble, paying no attention to anything but each other. Beca groaned in pain, eyes screwing shut before returning to her wife.

“I’m sc- I’m scared Chlo,” Beca mumbled, swallowing thickly. Chloe could see the fear in wife’s eyes and she knew she needed to do everything in her power to make it okay.

“You have nothing to be scared of, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere I promise.” Chloe gripped Beca’s hand tighter and levelled her with her most determined look, and Beca squeezed back as tightly as she could.

“I do-don’t w-wanna leave y-you,” Beca cried and Chloe’s heart broke but she couldn’t let Beca see that. She couldn’t allow her wife to carry that pain along with her fear so she shook her head to rid herself of that feeling.

“Then don’t. Don’t leave me. Fight this, fight for us!” Chloe pleaded, trying desperately to motivate her wife to hang on.

She didn’t want to let on to Beca that anything was wrong but in the distance she could hear the machines around her dipping as Beca’s body began to slowly shut down.

She knew what each noise meant having experienced the loss of a patient, the near misses of close calls, the sounds that made every hair on Chloes body stand on end.

Beca was dying.

Too many years of training and experience made her all too aware of when the fight was already over. And so began the inner conflict within Chloe of being a wife determined to save Beca’s life, and being a doctor who knew that the only thing she could offer at this point was comfort.

Chloe turned her head to gaze at Aubrey briefly, her heartbreak written all over her face, and gave her the nod of the head they were both all to familiar with to indicate that she should cease all medical practice and simply administer more pain relief.

As Aubrey stood back and requested the medication, Chloe’s heart shattered as she pressed her forehead to her wife’s and closed her eyes against the sobs threatening to burst free from her chest.

Once Aubrey administered the drug into Beca’s line, the detective was almost instantly relieved of her pain and she gasped at how light she felt.

C-Chlo…. I feel…. I feel better,” Beca’s airy voice rasped, her speech slurred from the effects of the drugs and the energy that was being purged from her body as it gave into the inevitable.

At those words, Chloe pressed a kiss to Beca’s forehead and lingered their, eyes screwed shut as she willed back the tears and gave herself a moment to collect herself.

“Good, that’s good Bec’s,” Chloe muttered as she pulled back just enough to gaze into her wife’s unfocused eyes.

But something in Chloe’s ocean blues brought clarity to Beca and for the briefest of instances, it was like she could read between the lines of everything that was going on around her, and Chloe saw it too.

She saw the very second that Beca looked into her eyes and realised that she was dying, and that the end was coming, and it broke everything inside of Chloe. Because she had failed her.

In all her years spent saving lives, she had failed the very one that meant more to her than anything else in the world

“I….I….love you….so much,” Beca wheezed, her breath now becoming weaker and thinner.

“Y-you are the b….best thing that’s ever h-happened to me. You compl….completed me.”

Chloe cupped Beca’s cheek and kissed her with everything she had, everything she hoped encompassed how much and how fiercely Chloe had loved her since the day they met, and how much she would love her for the rest of her life.

“I love you more then you’ll ever know,” Chloe whispered against her lips, placing one more soft, gentle kiss there before she leaned back to look into her eyes.

Only she didn’t meet Beca’s beautiful denim blues. Instead she was met with the serene face of a women who looked like she was sleeping peacefully, and then, the all too somber sound of a flatline.

“No, no no no no no, Beca NO!” Chloe sobbed, as she scooped her wife’s upper body up into her arms and held her tight.

She didn’t care about the blood she didn’t care about all the wires and tubes still attached. One of the surgical team went to try and move Chloe away so they could remove all of the equipment, but Gail held her back, shaking her head as tears escaped her own eyes.

She then turned to Aubrey and tipped her head at her to say the words that needed to be said for the record, but that nobody wanted to hear. Aubrey sucked down a gulp of air to try stem her own tears as she stuttered over her words.

“Time of…time of death, 4:22pm.”

And from that point on the only sound that registered to the people in the room as one by one the monitors were shut down, was the wailing of a woman who had lost the love of her life.

****Begin Again****

Aubrey stepped into the pitch black on call room, eyes instantly taking in the silhouette of the lone figure sat on the floor, back pressed against the edge of the bed.

No one had dared approach Chloe since Beca was wheeled out of the ER to be taken care of. They knew she needed time, though how much was anyones guess.

Aubrey had waited several hours but couldn’t take waiting any longer. She needed to check on her best friend, needed to be sure that Chloe was still present and hadn’t been consumed completely by grief.

As she stepped into the room, she didn’t speak a word as she closed the door behind her and crossed the room, carefully lowering herself to the ground next to the redhead who was completely zoned in on the object in her hands.

It was a picture frame, but she couldn’t quite make out what the picture was, it was slightly grainy and Aubrey was about to give up when the sliver of moonlight shimmering through the blinds of the window cast a momentary light of the image and Aubrey’s heart stuttered in her chest.

“Chloe, are you, are pregnant?” Aubrey whispered, almost afraid to speak too loudly in case the fragile woman next to her shattered into a million pieces.

Chloe swallowed thickly around the lump in her throat and the onslaught of tears threatening to break through. She heaved out a stuttered breath as a few tears slipped from her eyes.

“We started IVF last year and we’d been trying for a while,” Chloe explained her eyes lingering on the sonogram she’d framed.

“I just found out yesterday. I was gonna surprise Beca tonight,” Chloe cried, reaching up her hand to cover her mouth and quell the sound of her sobs as they broke free.

Aubrey wrapped her arms and Chloe and held her close, hand stroking her hair as she tried desperately to find words to somehow alleviate the gravity of the situation but she could think of nothing.

Beca was gone, she would never meet her child and Chloe was facing into a future as a single parent without the support of the love of her life to help her through what should’ve been the happiest time of their lives. 

It was so unfair. So unjust.

“Bree,” Chloe muttered as she pulled back, gazing into her friends eyes with tears in her own, he hand resting on her stomach where a bump would soon show. 

“We used Beca’s egg. This baby, it’s h-her,” Chloe choked out realising that though Beca was gone, part of her was now growing inside of Chloe, depending on her to nurture them and grow them, take care of them.

 Aubrey cupped Chloe’s face in the palm of her hands and glanced deep into her eyes, that steely determined look that had carried her through college and medical school and her internship coming to the fore as Aubrey decided there and then to take the wheel of the ship and help guide it through treacherous waters.

“No matter what, I am here for you, whatever you need. This baby will grow up with more love than it could ever ask for,” Aubrey said, stroking away the tears that were free falling down Chloe’s cheeks.

“And everyone will make sure that they know how awesome their mom was. And how much she wanted them. You’re not alone in this you hear me?” Aubrey said and Chloe broke.

“She’s gone Bree. Beca’s gone.”

With that Chloe’s wailing echoed around the room as she mourned the love of her life. Tears free falling as if every memory, every piece of happiness Chloe had felt since meeting Beca was trying to physically escape her body.

****Begin Again****

One Year Later….

Chloe carefully navigated the familiar path down the cemetery, her heart skipping a beat the closer she got to her destination, the sound of the birds chirping, trees lightly billowing in the wind joined by the sound of the wheels of a stroller rolling against the pavement beneath it.

Coming to a stop, Chloe pressed her foot down on the wheel brakes and reached down into the stroller, pushing back the cover as she carefully extracted the tiny baby that had been resting comfortably inside.

The little grunts and gurgles of the infant brought a smile to Chloe’s face as she adjusted the little pink cap on her head and held her snugly against her chest.

Little Olivia Rebeca Mitchell had arrived safely into the world a mere three months ago with all the attitude Chloe had expected of a Mitchell.

She was the tiniest little thing and the moment she had been laid in Chloe’s arms, the redhead was smitten.

Pregnancy had been tough on Chloe, not physically, but mentally and emotionally. Every doctors appointment, every Lamaze class, every shopping outing, had been an all too painful reminder of her wife’s absence.

The ache in Chloe’s chest and the grief never lessened, however the moment she heard her daughters heartbeat for the first time, the moment she laid eyes on her for the first time, those moments healed her in ways she never thought possible.

Because in Olivia, Chloe could see Beca, not just physically, but in her personality. In her daughter, her wife lived on and that had helped Chloe to keep moving forward on days when she thought she couldn’t.

Aubrey had been a god send. She had moved in with the redhead to be there for her throughout the pregnancy and stayed on to help out with Olivia until Chloe found a rhythm she was comfortable with.

She had been the support Chloe needed through everything and Jesse had stepped up to be a male presence in Olivia’s life, helping to put together the nursery and taking care of odd jobs around Chloe’s apartment.

He had taken to his role as uncle with the same ferocity as he had his partnership with Beca. Whatever Olivia and Chloe needed, Jesse was there, no questions asked.

Once a week they would all have dinner together, Chloe’s way of thanking them and keeping them actively involved in Olivia’s life, but even then there were moments where she couldn’t help but miss Beca’s presence.

“Hey Bec’s,” Chloe smiled as she took a seat on the bench that had been positioned right in front of Beca’s grave, Olivia now facing away from her mothers chest so she could see everything around her.

Before them stood a concrete stone that had been carved with delicate lettering to indicate whose resting place it was

Various little trinkets and flowers littered the grave and Chloe had placed a lantern to one side with a small stuffed teddy bear inside that had the word Mommy stitched across its belly and a battery operated candle.

On the other side, sat another lantern. This one housed two pictures, one of Beca and Chloe on their wedding day and the other, a picture of Olivia when she was just a day old.

“I talked to your Mom the other day. Liv and I are gonna spend the summer with her in Seattle and catch up with my parents in Portland,” Chloe said as she filled her wife in on the events of the last few days.

A gentle breeze gushed past them, and Chloe’s eyes shut at the sensation. It was like Beca was communicating with them, signalling her approval of everything she had heard.

“I talked to Gail about what I wanna do when I go back to work,” Chloe started, stopping momentarily when Olivia started to fuss.

“I’m not ready to go back to surgery full time yet. Not while Liv’s so young. I just need more time with her, and, away from there.”

Chloe had found being in the hospital difficult since the day Beca died. Everything just reminded her of her wife. The hospital was where they had met, it was where Chloe had patched her up on numerous occasions and ultimately where Beca had died.

It was hard for her, and she didn’t think it would ever get easier. The sound of a machine flatlining was never something a doctor wanted to hear, but for Chloe, it now held a different meaning that made it even harder to hear.

After talking to Gail, Chloe had decided to extend her maternity and take some time away from the city. She needed to be somewhere that held happier memories, somewhere Beca loved and she instantly thought of Seattle.

She remembered all the stories Beca had told her about her childhood there, of camping and going on boat trips on the feerryand hiking on the weekends. The road tips up and down the Pacific Coast Highway. Activities that weren’t too dissimilar to Chloe’s own upbringing in Portland.

They reminded her of the trips they had taken together, drinking coffee at Beca’s favourite spot or perusing the local record store for hours on end.

She needed time to breathe. She needed to go somewhere she could be with her daughter and feel surrounded by Beca. New York was home, but it somehow felt hollow now.

Gazing down at her daughter, Chloe choked back the tears threatening to spill over and she pressed her lips to the top of her daughters head. 

“I miss you so much Bec’s. Every single second of every day. And it hurts so much,” Chloe whimpered as a few tears escaped her. 

Then, a tiny little hand latched onto Chloe’s pointer finger, as if sensing that she needed comfort in that moment, and Chloe smiled through the pain.

“But this little one,” Chloe started dropping another kiss to her daughters head, “she makes it easier. She’s my reason to keep going.”

As Chloe gazed down at Olivia she was instantly flooded with happy memories from the last few months. Glimmers of light that penetrated the darkness and released the chokehold on Chloe’s heart.

“When she wakes up in the morning, she’s always got this cute little side smile, reminds me so much of you,” Chloe giggled.

“And when she’s restless, I’ll put on you’re record player and dance around the living room with her. She loves music Bec’s, so much. No matter what’s going on it always calms her.”

Chloe reached up a hand and wiped away her tears, trying to gather her composure.

“Your Mom she uh, she got a memorial bench just like this one at your favourite spot at the park, right under that big oak tree you used to play under as kid. I’m gonna take Liv there on a picnic.”

Gazing at the headstone Chloe took in the dates that signified the entirety of her wife’s life span and the significance of the date itself.

“It’s not fair. You should be here with us, we should be celebrating our anniversary, but you’re not. And I’ll never be okay with that.”

Chloe reached up her hand and instantly found purchase on the infinity loop pendent hanging from her necklace. The very necklace Beca had gifted her exactly one year ago.

“I love you so much Bec’s. I always have and I always will. Nothing will ever change that.”

Standing up Chloe adjusted her hold on Olivia and walked toward her wife’s headstone. She kissed her fingertips and then pressed them against the cold stone hoping somewhere out there, Beca could feel it and know it was her.

Making her way back to the stroller, she placed her daughter back inside and tucked her up. She then reached under it and removed the bouquet of lowers that she had tucked there earlier.

Approaching the grave, she nestled them in the vacant pot just in front of her wife’s headstone, adjusting the little note card inside of it, and when she was happy they were secure, she stood back up.

“Happy anniversary baby.”

With that she went back to the stroller and began pushing it back down the pathway and out of the cemetery, intent on spending the day with her daughter reminiscing on the day she met Beca for the first time.

****Begin Again****

One month later….

Strolling along the waterfront in Seattle, Chloe took in the boats that dotted the water, Olivia strapped to her chest making little sounds here and there.

It was a nice day out, sun shining and birds chirping. The complete opposite of the last time she had visited when it had rained the entire time.

As she came to a stop she noticed a woman standing just a couple of feet away looking out at the cruise boats, her long dirty blonde hair flickering in the slight breeze that brushed along the pier.

“It’s beautiful out there,” Chloe said gaining the other woman’s attention who gave her a small smile.

“My husband used to come here and take rides on the ferry to clear his head. He was obsessed with the damn things,” the woman replied. Chloe grinned at her.

“My wife grew up here. It’s funny, she used to come here with her dad on the weekends and take the ferry before her parents divorced.”

The other woman regarded her for a moment, something in Chloe’s demeanour and the tone of her voice bringing a sense of familiarity to her as if she could tell she had been through a lot, then she stuck her hand out for Chloe to shake.

“I’m Meredith,” the woman said and Chloe shook her hand.

“Chloe.”

Meredith smiled down at the little baby tucked against the redheads chest, her grin growing as she was reminded of her own kids.

“Are you visiting Seattle with your wife?” She asked.

Chloe faltered for a second. She had been so used to New York and people knowing about her situation that she’d never had to explain it before. It caught her off guard.

“Uh no, my wife, she passed away last year,” Chloe said, and Meredith tipped her head in understanding.

“My husband died a couple of years ago,” Meredith replied.

There was no ‘I’m sorry to hear that’ no words of condolences just a simple exchange of information, because in that simple fact, Meredith was telling Chloe that she understood. That she knew how empty those words would be.

Because they didn’t change anything, they didn’t offer the person receiving them any comfort. Instead what Meredith gave her was understanding and a sense of kinship in their shared grief. There was no need for words. They knew. Chloe looked at her for a moment.

“Does it ever get easier?” Chloe asked, needing to know if the ache in her chest would ever lessen.

Meredith shrugged her shoulders and exhaled a deep breath, shaking her head.

“No,” she said and then took a minute to take in Chloe’s sinking shoulders.

“It never gets easier, but you do somehow learn to grow stronger, more resilient. You learn to navigate the pain so that it doesn’t consume you anymore,” Meredith explained and Chloe took in every word.

“The truth is you learn to appreciate it, because that pain, is reminding you of how much you loved them, and how much they meant to you. And I’d rather feel that than feel nothing at all.”

Chloe took those words in and sat with them for a moment. She’d never thought of it that way before, about how her pain was a reflection of how hard and fiercely she had loved her wife.

The more she thought about it the more sense it made. Just as her love for Beca had been all consuming, her pain was now reflecting that very feeling.

It was literally her hearts way of holding onto feeling. Holding onto Beca. The pain wasn’t trying to cripple her, it was trying to keep her in touch the very thing that gave her life.

Chloe realised in that moment that Meredith was right. If her pain was a reflection of how much she had loved and still loved Beca, she would rather carry that with her for the rest of her life, then spend it feeling nothing at all.

Because to Chloe, feeling nothing at all would be an insult to Beca’s memory. She deserved to be missed, she deserved to be so loved and cherished even though she was no longer physically present to receive it.

One day Chloe would learn to live side by side with her pain in a way that motivated her to keep living for her wife, but for now, she would allow herself to sit with her grief and learn from it.

Observing Meredith for a moment, Chloe decided to throw caution to the wind and ask her for coffee. In the brief few moments they had been chatting she felt like she had learned more than she had in the past year.

There was something about Meredith, she carried an air of wisdom about her like someone who had been through a lot and could offer worldly advice, and Chloe needed that right now. Especially from someone who understood what she was going through.

“Hey, this probably sounds totally strange and I don’t normally do this but, do you maybe wanna go sit somewhere and have coffee?” Chloe asked.

“It’s just, I haven’t really been able to talk to anyone about everything in a really long time and, it’d be nice to talk to someone who actually gets it and isn’t just listening to be sympathetic.”

Meredith stood there for a moment, hands in her coat pockets. It wasn’t usually in her nature to go out of her way like this outside of her job, but she could tell Chloe needed it. And having been in her position, she could understand why.

“Sure. There’s a place just five minutes from here. They do good coffee and doughnuts,” Meredith offered.

Chloe readily accepted and the two women set off down the pier in the direction Meredith guided them in.

An hour later, after Chloe divulged the details of her wife’s death and Olivia’s arrival, Meredith interjected.

“So what brought you to Seattle?” She asked. Chloe, who had been nursing Olivia, looked up at the question.

“Beca loved it here,” Chloe responded with sincerity in her tone.

“We both made New York home but, Seattle was always in her veins. It’s calmer here, and even with her parents divorce she still always had happy memories here. I just needed to be somewhere happier. Somewhere that isn’t tainted by what happened,” Chloe answered honestly, eyes dropping down to Olivia as she stroked her cheek.

“Plus I wanted to introduce her to her moms roots.”

As Olivia suckled away, Chloe reached out and grabbed a hold of her decaf coffee, taking a sip and placing the cup back down on the table.

“It’s lighter here. It’s like I can feel Beca around the place everywhere I go.”

Meredith sat back in her chair taking in everything Chloe said. She observed the way the woman wistfully glanced out the window at the surroundings and how her shoulders seemed to relax.

“Did you say you were a cardiothoracic surgeon?” She asked, brow furrowed in curiosity.

Chloe nodded, a little ‘uh-huh’ answering the question for her as she adjusted her shirt and began to burp Olivia.

“I’m the Chief of Surgery at Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital here in Seattle, and I, am currently looking for a new Chief of Cardiothoracics. How would you like to interview for the job?”

Chloe chuckled as she settled Olivia back down into her arms, her face growing stoic when she noticed that Meredith wasn’t laughing.

“Wait seriously?” Chloe asked, mouth bobbing up and down not quite believing what she was hearing. Meredith nodded her head.

“You said it yourself, everything is lighter here. Olivia would be closer to her Mom’s roots. Why not give it a shot? We’re one of the leading research hospitals in the country you could really branch out and grow here.”

Chloe stuttered and stammered trying to find words. She would be lying if she said that her heart wasn’t really in New York anymore. But to move all the way across the country? Away from her friends, away from her colleagues? It was a lot to process. And Meredith sensed this

“Look I’m not asking you to take the job. It’s just an interview. Who knows a fresh start might be exactly what you need. It seems like this place agrees with you.”

Chloe thought about it, but she still seemed unsure. So Meredith picked up her wallet reached inside and pulled out a business card with her contact details on it and handed it to Chloe.

“Look you’re here for the whole summer. Why don’t you take a week to think about it and call me. If you want I can arrange to show you around the hospital so you can get a feel for the place.”

Chloe accepted the card and glanced over the perfectly neat lines of the information printed across it. The least she could do was think about it.

It would be nice being closer to home and to her own parents, and Grey Sloan was one of the top hospitals in the country, it would be amazing for her career, especially in helping her build on the research she had already conducted in the years prior.

“Okay, I’ll think about it,” Chloe finally replied, and Meredith grinned at her before glancing at her watch and realising she was late.

“Shoot I gotta go pick my kids up. Call me when you wanna arrange that tour,” she said before dropping a $20 bill on the table and heading out the door.

Chloe tracked her every movement until the sound of her daughter grunting in discontent at being ignored drew her attention towards her.

“Well that was something,” Chloe said as Olivia gurgled away to herself.

Maybe Meredith was right, maybe in Seattle she could finally shrug her shoulders of the weight of New York she had been carrying around and just be a mother and a doctor. Make a home somewhere that Olivia would be able to get a sense of Beca and who she was.

“What do you say kid? Should I call her?”

****Begin Again****

Six Months Later….

Climbing out of her car, Chloe slung the strap of her messenger bag on her shoulder and closed the door, pressing the lock button on her key fob.

Strolling across the car park she stepped inside the glass foyer of the building and made her way to the large reception desk. A young woman popped her head up and greeted her.

“Hi can I help you?” She asked and Chloe opened her mouth to respond, but she was cut off by the sound of a voice carrying from the staircase off to the side.

“Dr. Beale I’ve been expecting you.”

Chloe turned to find Meredith standing on the last step of the stairs, several charts under her arm and her hand tucked into the pocket of her white coat.

She came down the last step and crossed the distance sticking her hand out to shake Chloe’s in greeting.

“Mallory,” Meredith said acknowledging the receptionist, “this is Dr. Chloe Beale, Grey Sloans new Head of Cardiothoracics.”

Chloe grinned at Meredith as she shook her hand again.

“Mitchell. It’s Dr. Chloe Mitchell actually.”

Meredith grinned warmly at Chloe understanding the significance behind the name change, before gesturing for her to follow her down the hall.

“I hope you brought your favourite scrub cap. They’re kind of iconic around this place,” Meredith chuckled and Chloe nodded.

“I did actually. I think it’ll inspire me here,” she replied as her mind drifted to the surgical cap tucked safely inside her bag decorated in musical notes, a gift she had received years ago from her wife when they were still just dating.

As they stepped into the elevator, Chloe leaned back against the metal wall as Meredith answered a phone call and took a minute to breathe.

The place felt oddly serene. There were no ghosts here, no memories of what she had left behind at her old work place. It felt, like a new beginning. Chloe didn't know what the future had in store for her or Olivia. She didn't know what this new chapter in Seattle would entail or how it would play out. But one thing she knew for sure, was that no matter where she went, not matter where she ended up, and no matter how the rest of her life panned out, Beca Mitchell would always have a home in Chloe's heart.

As Meredith wrapped up her call, the elevator came to a stop on the floor that would become Chloe’s new stomping grand and she turned and looked at the redhead standing behind her.

“Well Dr. Mitchell, are ready to begin again?” Meredith asked and Chloe took a deep breath and gazed out the now open elevator doors.

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

[shemarmooresfedora]

Sugary Sweet Apologies

Summary: You and Reid never really got along but when he saves your life, you decide to be the bigger person and thank him and hopefully start over. Unfortunately, it isn’t that easy.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content/Warnings: light to mild angst with fluffy ending, swearing, spencer reid being an annoying bitch, brief mentions of case stuff (if you watch cm, you should be fine)

A/N: this is for @willowrose99 ‘s 1 year anniversary on tumblr writing challenge!! congrats! i literally wrote and edited this whole thing in less than one day because i got so excited, anyways i hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 1.8k

“Reid and Y/L/N, go to David Whitney’s house. He was the therapist of two of the three victims. He could have some insight into the victimology and know of any overlap between them. He has no criminal record of past aggressive behavior but we can’t rule him out as a suspect entirely,” Hotch stated.

“Hotch, you stuck me with her yesterday for the geographical profiling. Send Prentiss with her instead,” Spencer whined.

“I don’t mind going with Y/L/N. She is a great partner in the field,” Emily glared at Spencer.

“No. Reid, go with Y/L/N or be taken off this case. I’m a unit chief, not an elementary school teacher. I don’t have time for temper tantrums,” Hotch chided.

“Fine,” Spencer grumbled as you grabbed the keys to an SUV.

You don’t know what it was but ever since you started at the BAU four months ago, Spencer had never liked you which resulted in you disliking him as well. Everyone else on the team was super friendly and welcoming but Reid always was jabbing snarky remarks your way like “I don’t have time to explain it to you” or “This was in the FBI handbook. God, you need more training.”

Luckily, the others were quick to defend you. Once Garcia even heard him snip at you over the phone and as soon as you all got off the elevator after the case, Reid was being dragged by his ear into Garcia’s lair with him going “ow ow ow” behind her. So, you didn’t really pay much mind to him because you could deal with one annoying know-it-all to have such an amazing job with great coworkers minus the one.

“Look, I’m not happy about this either,” you said as you climbed into the driver’s side of the SUV, “But at least I’m not being a whiny bitch about it and being rude to the other person’s face.”

“Oh wow, I’m so sorry that I hurt your feelings,” Spencer mocked.

“Fuck you, Reid,” you shook your head.

-

David Whitney was on edge the second you arrived and showed him your badges. He was bouncing his leg up and down, he couldn’t sit still, and he kept avoiding eye contact.

He knew way too much about the other victim that wasn’t even one of his clients but you didn’t have anything solid on him. His house seemed very neat so you doubted he kept anything incriminating here. Organized offenders usually have a secondary location. So, you decided to push his buttons a little.

“I mean blitz attacks, leaving the bodies on the side of dirt roads,” you combed through the crime scene photos, “This guy was a real coward.”

Spencer picked up on what you were trying to do and his eyes widened, he was subtly shaking his head and mouthing “no”.

“Excuse me?” David asked.

“Well, I’m just saying a real man wouldn’t cower in the bushes and blindside a woman. He must not be very strong,” you stated, “He probably can’t even get it up.”

Before you even had time to react, David pulled out a switchblade knife from inside the couch cushions and put you in a chokehold, pressing the cool metal up to your throat. You closed your eyes tightly.

“David, you don’t have to do this,” Spencer stood with his gun pointed at you both.

“This bitch insulted me,” he snarled.

“She insults me too. That doesn’t make you any less of a man,” Spencer spoke carefully, “Just put the knife down and I’ll escort you out.”

David sighed, dropping the knife to the floor and releasing you.

Spencer put David in handcuffs and walked him outside as reinforcements came running in.

“Are you okay, Y/L/N?” Hotch asked.

“Yep, a little shaken up but fine. Thank you,” you stood.

“Let’s get you to the medics,” Morgan grabbed your arm to support you as you walked over to the ambulance.

Spencer never checked on you.

-

You knew your decision in the field was a little rash and you wanted to thank Spencer for essentially saving your life.

However, there was no way in hell you could verbally get out an apology while staring at his smug face, but you could bake. You settled on a note tucked inside a tupperware container of your Grandma’s special recipe of chocolate chip cookies. It was a good peace offering, maybe even a chance to start fresh.

During your lunch break, you took the tupperware from your desk drawer and approached the break room where Reid had entered about 5 minutes ago.

“I’m just saying I could not have been more clear in my message to her that it was too dangerous but of course, Y/L/N didn’t listen cause Y/L/N is going to do whatever she feels like,” Spencer stirred his coffee.

No one had noticed you standing in the doorway yet.

“Reid, you’ve got to be nicer to her. She earned her spot here just like the rest of us,” Emily defended you.

“Did she though? How much do we really know about her? She couldn’t even tell me how many pages the FBI protocol manual was,” Spencer said.

“That’s not a normal thing people know,” Morgan retorted.

“Well, I’m just saying the team was perfectly fine before her and it would probably be better off if she left,” Reid finished.

Garcia looked up from her yogurt to see you standing there, “Oh, Y/N”.

Spencer turned around in his chair as you angrily stormed up to him.

“Here’s your cookies, asshole,” you seethed, grabbing the note from inside and crumpling it up into a little ball and tossing it into the trash.

“Y/N!” Emily called after you but you were already gone.

The whole team glared at Spencer and picked up their lunches, leaving him alone at the table.

Spencer retrieved the balled up paper from the trash, having to fish through Rossi’s week old pasta and Anderson’s half eaten tuna fish sandwich.

Dear Reid,

Thank you for saving my life, I guess. These are my Grandma’s secret recipe for chocolate chip cookies so I hope you enjoy. I think we got off on the wrong foot and I would like to start over. I think cases would be a lot less miserable for everyone if we got along.

Thanks again,

Y/L/N

Spencer, you’re such an idiot, he thought to himself.

You never came back after your lunch break ended and Derek made Spencer go tell Hotch why it’s his fault you were missing the rest of the day.

He tried to call you multiple times but they always rang out before going to voicemail.

Spencer hesitantly knocked on Penelope’s door at the end of the day.

“Is she okay?” he asked softly.

“You don’t get to ask that as the person who hurt her in the first place. Also, she told me to tell you that don’t you dare go to her apartment to ‘check on her’. I’m headed over there myself actually,” Penelope collected her things and shut off her monitors.

“Will you at least tell her I’m really sorry?” Spencer followed her to the elevator.

“Absolutely not. I’m not doing any apologizing on your behalf,” Penelope huffed as the elevators shut.

-

You came in the next morning, keeping your head down. You grabbed a pen from your cup holder and the first folder on your stack before getting to work.

You were on the second page of the file when your clean, empty tupperware was placed in front of you plus another baking dish with aluminum foil over the top.

You glanced up to see Spencer guiltily looking down at you and you returned your eyes back to the file.

“I-I made you cinnamon rolls,” Spencer broke the silence.

“Are they poisoned?” you asked, not sparing him another glance.

“No, they’re not poisoned,” he assured you.

“I’m just saying how can I trust you as you have made it very apparent you would like me off this team.”

“I didn’t mean that,” Spencer was quick to reply.

“Then why the hell did you say it, Reid?” you slammed your pen down.

You grabbed your empty coffee mug and briskly walked to the break room but unfortunately, Spencer was right behind you.

“I didn’t eat any of your cookies by the way. Not that I didn’t want to but I felt like I didn’t deserve them so I handed them out to everyone else.”

“Oh how kind, taking credit for my work,” you tried to close the door in his face.

“I told them that they were from you,” Spencer insisted.

You rolled your eyes as Spencer grabbed the coffee pot before you could get to it, pouring your mug of coffee for you.

“What do you want from me, Reid?” you asked defeatedly.

“I want you to try a cinnamon roll and let me explain.”

“Fine but only because I didn’t have breakfast yet and I want to critique your baking skills,” you huffed, walking back to your desk.

Spencer gingerly placed one of the sticky frosting-coated rolls on a napkin and pushed it towards you. You tentatively bit into it. Damn it, it was actually delicious.

“It’s okay,” you understated.

You knew Spencer hardly ever used his kitchen let alone be up baking all night. He even chose a recipe that required more time and effort because the yeast dough would have to rise for a few hours.

“That’s good. The first batch didn’t come out as great...or the second,” he smiled softly.

“Well, the floor is all yours, Reid. Please explain to me why you talk shit about me to my co-workers when I’m in the other room,” you leaned back in your chair and crossed your arms.

Spencer muttered something incoherent.

“I have to hear the apology, you know,” you said, enjoying watching him uncomfortable.

“You’re intimidating to me because you’re intelligent, beautiful, and courageous. I think I was a little jealous that my spotlight as the ‘kid’ of the BAU was coming to an end so I said some harsh, completely untrue things and I’m sincerely sorry.”

“Oh my god,” you smirked, “Hotch was right, you are an elementary school kid.”

“In what way?” he curiously asked.

“You like me like like like me. You don’t know how to talk to the girl so you pull her pigtails on the playground,” you giggled.

“I take it back. You’re a horrible profiler,” Spencer was getting up from his seat, completely flustered.

“Awww,” you were laughing at Spencer’s bright red face as he went to go to the break room to fill his coffee mug.

When he got back to his desk, a sticky note was placed front and center.

In typical elementary school fashion…

Will you go get coffee with me?

Check:

Yes

or

No

Spencer smiled before picking up his pen and checking one of the boxes, crumpling the sticky note up into a ball and throwing it over to your desk.

“Good choice. See you Saturday at 9 at the cafe down the street,” you grinned.

“It’s a date,” he smiled.