#every photo with my coworkers makes it look like they had a photo op with samara from the ring

[ourbastardofsorrows]

i love having my hair dyed black, but it really does emphasize how much i look like some kind of wretched pale ghoul whenever i'm photographed with living people

[sakuatsu]

YELL 2 ME ABT SAKUATSU FIC RECS PLS

oh boy. oh boy do i have much to talk about

here’s a list of my sakuatsu must-reads under the cut! complete with links, word count, ratings, and occasional commentary because i’m incapable of shutting up. this isn’t in any particular order either 

(keeping this sfw and organized into canonverse/AUs. a * means i am on my hands and knees begging for you to read this)  

i’ll try to update this somewhat regularly :]

most recently updated august 25, 2020!

canonverse:

*your highs and lows (series) by astroeulogy 

a post-time skip canonverse series born from these two questions:

1. what if sakusa kiyoomi, known too-blunt jerk, is equally straightforward about his soft, tender feelings?

2. what if miya atsumu, resident big fat jerk who doesn't care if his teammates hate him, is too emotionally stunted to notice when his one of his teammates actually likes him?

this is like the sakuatsu series but it’s blasphemous to not recommend. the first fic in the series is all that you were (4.6k, T). mind the ratings on a few of the fics, but my personal favorite is #3: a masterpiece of domesticity called you have tamed me (5.7k, T). these make me ACHE 

*sakuatsu domesticity simulator by pseudoanalytics (T)

a vaguely interactive mixture of fic, art, and html, where you too can experience the inherent romance of a big fat jerk and a too-blunt jerk attempting intimacy

this fic...this fic...op is literally one of my favorite artists of all time but Did You Know that their writing is also off the charts. what a wonderful use of second person and the pacing is so good. too much skill in one person 

*The MSBY Black Jackals Read Thirst Tweets by isaksara (11.4k, M)

Sakusa’s eyes are very dark naturally, sucking in all surrounding rays of light and crushing them in his pupils. For an athlete, he is rather pale. His lips look very pink in comparison. Atsumu is suddenly catastrophically aware that in this instance, ‘accent’ is a euphemism. “Good enough for your Olympic-size ego, Miya?”

(In which Atsumu realizes that he is attracted to Sakusa Kiyoomi in the most inconvenient way possible.)

i think this is the fic that got me into sakuatsu in the first place lol i was looking very specifically for msby socmed fics and now here we are. this fic is unbelievably funny

*liminal spaces by hhatsuna (25.9k, T)

Fuck you, Atsumu thinks, pointing at the pixelated Sakusa in the grainy team photo on his bedside table.

It’s easier than you’d think to ignore loving your teammate.

*Better For Us Both by abrandnewheart (15.7k, M)

Where “You already make me the happiest guy alive, babe," gives way to, “I’ve not been happy for a while now.”

Alternatively known as the ‘mug fic’.

yes this is a breakup fic. yes im going to recommend it anyway. breakup fics usually scare me a lot but this one is too good for me to not say anything about. nuanced and delicious. i look at the mug on my desk and feel pain

dog eat dog eat dog world by perennials (8.4k, T)

You are your first and only line of defense against the universe.

Koi no Yokan; 恋の予感 by ymra (15.3k, unrated)

Wherein Sakusa dreams of his future selves and discovers a little something along the way.

autumn ends, but we remain by wolfsbvne (5.3k, T)

atsumu stares at his ceiling at 2am. he stares until he can make out designs in his popcorn ceiling. a cat there, an onigiri here, and then something that suspiciously looks like a mop of hair, triangle eyebrows, and oh those two bumps are moles right above what atsumu just mapped out as an eye.

(or, atsumu is in kind of in love. sakusa is maybe in like.)

your fingertips, branding irons by Ceryna (5.8k, T)

Between the accidental touches he's reconciled, the deliberate ones he's endured, and, from those he's built years of trust with, obliged– Kiyoomi has never wanted to let someone indulge.

Never, until Atsumu.

take what’s yours and make it mine by claudusdiei (5.9k, T)

atsumu falls in love four times in his life

(or: in which atsumu gets his heart broken twice, has the self-awareness of a sober mule and really likes yellow tulips)

every action has an equal and opposite reaction by akanemnida (10.4k, T)

Miya Atsumu gets a modeling contract with Calvin Klein, which sets Kiyoomi's heart in motion.

(Or: Sakusa Kiyoomi realizes that the rules governing the universe are absolute rubbish at explaining matters of the heart.)

*where i want to be by tookumade (8.8k, G)

In the time they’ve been teammates at the MSBY Black Jackals, Sakusa has never been to Atsumu’s place, and Atsumu has only been to Sakusa’s a few times. There’s an unspoken understanding here: that Atsumu knows him well enough to know that nobody’s house or apartment would ever really meet his ridiculously high standards, and he is most comfortable in the home he’s made for himself.

That, and, Atsumu being over at Sakusa’s means that he has to host him and do the cleaning afterwards, while Atsumu can just flit off back to his own place. So. There’s that.

Tonight. Tonight is not business as usual. Tonight is not familiar.

*san'yō expressway, 6:17 pm by yamabato (8.1k, T)

Atsumu tilts his head to watch a slice of orange light bend over the impassive planes of Sakusa’s face. He is absolutely, ruthlessly beautiful. It makes Atsumu want to punch something—put his foot through the windshield—scream, maybe.

Kiss him again, maybe.

They have 344 kilometers to figure this one out.

parallax error: angle of inclination by min_mintobe (10.8k, T)

But now there's the one person Atsumu'd promised himself never to touch. His eyes leave Atsumu breathless with guilt at seventeen, and he spends the next six years safe in the satisfaction of making things right.

Feelings, of the physical kind, and one kiss.

ft. competitive spirit, childishness, and late night conversations.

Atsumu POV.

four leaf clover by vicari_us (5.9k, T)

Once, Ushijima claimed that they ‘got lucky’. If properly honed, their body types could become near invincible weapons.

However, unlike Ushijima, Kiyoomi’s weapon required a bit more care over the years to reach the condition it had become. He was born iron, not yet forged into steel.

Exploring what it might have taken to turn a genetic mistake into an athletic miracle.

*the 28 postcards you left me by wheelspokes (8.3k, T)

Atsumu takes texting your ex to a new level by sending Sakusa postcards in Animal Crossing instead.

such a unique premise & this is so beautifully structured. stunning flow and who knew animal crossing could convey so much longing...

AUs:

Pas De Deux by hhatsuna (dancer!sakusa au: 19.0k, T)

The mystery athlete gives Kiyoomi a once over in the mirror. “Yer pretty tall,” he observes, and the twang of an accent rasps low in his throat. His brazen eyes drift to Kiyoomi’s legs, and something like exhilaration glints gold in his gaze. “Good quads, too. Ya ever played volleyball?” Ah. So it’s volleyball.

“I’m a dancer. Ballet and contemporary, mostly.”

*my love, take your time by bastigod (archaeologist!sakusa au: 9.0k, T)

There was something sublime about wandering around an empty museum. Nothing could compare to the sound of his shoes clacking against the marble floor, the morning sunlight gently streaming through the lofty windows and the peaceful solitude of ancient stone kings overseeing their silent kingdoms.

A day in the life of Doctor Kiyoomi Sakusa, Archaeologist.

i’ve literally been thinking about this fic every day since it came out. you will not find a story like this anywhere else, i guarantee you. what a clear labor of love this fic is it’s truly something so special 

three roses and a smile by strawberrycitrus (surgeon!sakusa & microbiologist!atsumu au: 19.7k, T)

“I just got this job, I’m not givin’ it up for some moral boost ‘cause I actually need to pay my rent, ya insensitive -” Atsumu waves his hands around, trying and failing to come up with the right word to convey the amount of injustice that this gaunt motherfucker has brought into his relatively simple life thus far.

“If you can’t pay your rent, go get a job at the McDonald’s over by 8th Street,” Sakusa growls, “it’ll pay more than your researcher position.”

If you even attempt assault on a coworker, forget teaching about cells - you’ll fucking be in one, Atsumu.

*Dance of the Parallax by astroeulogy (ogre spirit!sakusa au: 6.7k, T)

For the last twenty years, Atsumu’s done all that he can to break his betrothal to the ogre spirit Sakusa. If he can just make it through one more night, he’ll be free.

honestly, just read everything by astroeulogy. i’m recommending this fic in particular because it has such an ethereal voice to it. magical

across oceans, across centuries by starstrikes (pacific rim au: 20.0k, T)

Six days ago, Osamu died and left Atsumu with this: Atsumu, you have to—

(Namikira rises with the tides and rips Osamu and Vulpis Empress away in one fell swoop. Six days later, Atsumu wakes up alone in a hospital bed and learns how to swim.)

you don’t actually need to know pacrim to appreciate this. a wonderful exploration of grief and recovery. also it’s exactly 20k words which is both satisfying and terrifying 

*Notte Stellata by awkwardedgeworth (ice skating/dancing au: 20.8k, T)

"Your partner doesn't need to hold anyone's hand other than yours," Sakusa's father crouches, "And you can wear gloves."

Sakusa ponders. He hears the other skaters of rink two whiz past as they launch themselves into lifts.

"Alright," He looks up from the ice, not knowing how he'll dedicate the next couple of decades to this sport, this partnership, this boy.

what a stunning fic. a beautiful progression of sakusa & atsumu’s relationship, rife with references to real skating programs, beautifully written and structured. so full of longing i’m in mild physical pain

[ichika27]

My thoughts on Yashahime

I’ll make an actual post about Yashahime after the series is over and maybe a bit more (like my thoughts on SessRin as a whole) but for now I’ll be rambling about something I couldn’t stop thinking about since last night.

So... Sesshoumaru’s a dad now, huh? I mean, I knew since they announced the sequel series but it didn’t hit me that yeah, this really is happening until I saw the latest episode (ep. 15) and seeing him with his kids. Like, I watched Inuyasha as a kid and never really imagined that there’d be a time where the word “dad” or “father” would be used to describe him. The guy is stoic and almost emotionless so to think he’d become a dad or would get married at all was a surprising and strange thought. But he’s gone a long way from being the antagonist character he was introduced as at the beginning of the main series and now he has a family and I just... can you imagine all the slice-of-life shenanigans?

I’ll put the rest of my ramblings under the cut to save space...

Sesshoumaru is a serious person who has trouble showing emotions or even admitting he cares about people. Episode 15 shows him seeing Rin after she gives birth and then seeing his kids for the first time and there’s no change in his facial expression although we know as the audience there’s something underneath that. Rin knows and trust him and Jaken does, too of course. Sadly he was not able to watch his kids grow closely especially Towa who was forcibly time-travelled to the future and grew up on a different family. The twins don’t remember him and Rin at all either.

Like, imagine how awkward it would be after all the life-threatening stuff and them trying to be a family again. The kids are teenagers now, too and have their own personalities so it might be extra awkward. Towa probably would have to deal with meeting her biological parents and having them not be the Higurashis and the personalities are different, too (esp. her dad). Setsuna has to deal with having a family period and her memories of Towa would probably return at the end, too but still she had her demon slaying upbringing and always being in battle mode and such.

Anyways, imagine Setsuna being with her mom. She already feels kind of weird whenever her sister that she doesn’t remember shows affection now she has a mom who would probably do the same lol.

And Sesshoumaru is serious and such but his daughter Towa is kind and affectionate. I couldn’t stop thinking about this scenario: Sesshoumaru noticing Towa is using a broken sword all this time and one day comes back to give her a new one and Jaken would explain that his Lord Sesshoumaru had it made specifically for Towa. I can just imagine Towa being happy cause “Wow new sword for me?” and then saying thank you to her dad and hugging him and Sesshoumaru not knowing what the heck he should do and just... staring. Rin and Jaken would watch happily of course as they know he’s not unfeeling and-

And and and Setsuna being like Sesshoumaru (well, almost) would act tsun but she probably would wanna do family stuff, too.

And I want to see the twins interact with Jaken! He would be so overprotective of them while Sesshoumaru isn’t around. He’d be pissed if anyone even looks down on them and Towa would ask him to stop cause that’s totally not it and Setsuna would just sigh. Towa would be so nice and polite and would actually talk to Jaken nicely (the guy needs more appreciation!). He would totally tell the twins about their parents and how amazing their dad is hahaha.

I ship Setsuna with Hisui, by the way. The two have been working together for years and clearly Hisui cares a lot for Setsuna (every time there’s a fight he seem to be watching out for Setsuna a lot). I wish they’d show flashbacks of how the two became close as coworkers/friends at least. Anyways, imagine Jaken seeing the two close and has suspicions but doesn’t trust Hisui enough (even if he is Kohaku’s nephew as he doesn’t know the boy well yet).

Also, I was kinda disappointed at episode 14, I think, with the whole Towa’s smartphone thing as Setsuna didn’t know what it was and stuff. I mean, they showed Towa’s phone works it’s basic properties only without internet (someone pointed out that they could’ve been charging it with the bike like they showed in one of the uh, I have no idea what it’s called. Scene shows up every end of OP). The camera works, too and I was hoping Towa would take a picture of the three of them. I know it’s no big deal but she probably also has photos of her adoptive family on that. Just imagine her taking that photo and every time she opens it she could see photos of her family and once Rin and Sesshoumaru are with them she’ll have a family photo taken and another one with her aunt and uncle and cousin Moroha. I mean, it’s cute... I think it’s cute!

The later the twins could accompany their dad on whatever adventure he gets to and when they get home Rin is there to welcome them all back. Or just Sesshoumaru coming back home and he now has a wife and two kids waiting for him and that wasn’t a thing before and maybe even Towa would try having bonding moments with her entire family.

Also, Inuyasha and Kagome are trapped at the grave of Inu-no-Taishou so the new trio would probably go there, too. Imagine them seeing their grandpa’s grave. Someone on twitter made a joke about how Moroha might want to sell her grandpa’s corpse and I know she probably has a line she wouldn’t cross but it would be funny if the twins look at Moroha suspiciously with Moroha being outraged that they even thought she would do something like that.

Oh and the twins meeting their grandmother! I’m sure as heck Sesshoumaru’s mother wouldn’t be surprised he had hanyou kids. She totally saw it coming after Sesshoumaru saved Rin from death a second time. I wonder if they’ll get along? With the way Sesshoumaru’s mother talks and the twins personalities it makes me wonder how conversations would go.

Of course I still want Kagome to be able to visit her family and properly introducing Moroha this time around. I just want family bonding about them! And Moroha showing her great-grandpa that she kept the kappa’s foot all this time and really does appreciate it and how it helped her in battle.

Of course, Seshoumaru and Rin meeting the Higurashis - Sota, Moe, and Mei. Towa introducing her two families to each other! Mei would be happy to see her two big sisters again and Rin would be talking to Moe and thanking her for raising Towa and there’s Sota who probably would be talking to Sesshoumaru about Towa and how she grew up and Sesshoumaru would act aloof and all but he’s totally listening and is proud of his kid. That said Kohaku would also tell Lord Sesshoumaru about how amazing Setsuna is as a demon slayer.

I know the above is unlikely but still... just imagine! That’d be sooo nice! After all the crap they went through they’d just be happy together.

Also I just imagine the reunion after the trouble in the series with Rin getting her kids back and Sesshoumaru watching over them not saying anything and Jaken is crying tears of joy saying how his Lord Sesshoumaru is happy that his family is together again and Moroha looking at her uncle and is like “He is?” cause the guy isn’t smiling at all on the outside lol.

I couldn’t sleep last night just thinking about these. I know it’s probably OOC for many of them but just let me have my fun hahaha.

I’ll make another Yashahime post sooner or later cause I’m enjoying the series so far. I’m excited for the next episodes! And holy crap I didn’t realize how long this would be!

If you read my ramblings this far, thank you! I do hope it wasn’t that bad of a way to kill time haha.

[stvtisticsmovedd]

A DAY WITH CYRUS || ROSE ATLAS & CYRUS ATLAS

" Rose...Rose.....Ms. Atlas, it's time to get up." A voice within the dark called to her as the female tossed and turned in her bed. She was warm under neath the soft blanket. She loved the way her silk sheets felt against her bare skin. Her arms wrapped around her body pillow as she nuzzle against it.

"Five more minutes." Rose muttered, she knew she had to wake up. There was a full day ahead of her. Work to be done, classes to teach, a certain professor to bother and a friend with a baby on the way to check in every now and again.

"The time is ten hundred hours, you have to get ready." This time, instead of a robotic voice, it was a male one. Seems like someone decided to pick their male form today, a voice that was gently but stern; just like her brother.

Groaning from annoyance, Rose slowly began to sit up. Rubbing her eyes and blinking a couple to adjust. The room was dark, just how she liked it however, she knew that it time to get ready. "Cyrus, lights please." The female said softly as she stretched and yawned. The cool air within her room caused goosebumps to rise on her skin as she rubbed her arms to warm up a bit. One thing Rose enjoyed about getting ready was taking hot showers so she could wake herself up.

Removing herself from her bed, she let her legs dangle as she watched her LED lights slowly begin to turn on. Standing up, she moved to her closet to pick out an outfit. Looking over her clothes, she couldn’t come up with what to wear for the day.

"Cyrus - "

"The weather for the day is going to be an overcast, highest temperature reaching sixty degrees, lowest possible forty-five. A jacket is recommended in addition with long sleeves. A coffee shop is open with minimal wait times that is in route of the university."

Rose smiled to herself hearing the basic over view of the day, it made it easier to plan things accordingly. Reaching into closet she picked a cream colored long sleeve shirt followed with a leather jacket and dark washed skinny jeans with her knee high boots to match. It did surprise her how Canada's weather took forever to warm up, it wasn't like California or even Florida. She did miss being stateside but she had her reasons to stay, very important reasons to stay.

Once her clothes were acquired, she headed to her bathroom. Soon as she walked in, Cyrus turned on the lights and began to read off various emails while Rose got ready. She took note of various emails from coworkers, emails from students but what she really wanted to hear was her video games news.

"Unfortunately, Rose. The Halo Infinite update for co-op got pushed but it will be split screen and up to four people can play online. So, I suppose it's worth the wait."

"You know, three-four-three industries made a beautiful thing with the campaign, the details, the story. It's understandable why they had to push it to the right for now, I rather have it be perfected than something rushed."

"My thoughts exactly."

Once Rose was done getting ready, she decided to make a quick breakfast. Pouring a glass of orange juice, while her toast was toasting and her eggs were frying in the pan.

"How is Tyler's restaurant doing?"

There's a couple moments of silence before results were given. "So far he has a four star review, even though most of the reviews are about him and his appearance. The food does look amazing with presentation based on the photos that were published by your friend, Claire."

"That's good!" Rose said before putting her small breakfast together and taking a bite of her eggs on toast. She knows she'll end up getting food later for lunch perhaps...

"You're thinking again, is possibly about that one professor that you look up so much?"

"Who?! Derek?!" Her cheeks have became red as she wiped her mouth from any remaining orange juice that was left on the corners of her mouth. Had Cyrus been looking into her search history and possibly lurking on her text messages? The thought of him caused her to react, and once she reacted her lights began to glow a bit brighter and dim almost in an instant.

Get yourself together Rose, you can't afford to keep replacing LEDs. She thought to herself as she gathered her things to head out for the day.

"You know what, Cyrus, we can talk about this another time. I have to go or I'll be late for my first class."

Attempting to put all her belongings in her bag. Cyrus itself popped up, this time in full person and body. The AI did take the appearance of a male. The male looked about to be in his mid twenties, curly light brown hair with pricing electric blue eyes. Attire of someone who looked like they were in college but reaching adulthood who had finally found a comfortable choice of clothing.

"I think you should tell him how you feel or at least --"

"That's out of the question Cy. He's having a kid with my best friend, the timing would be terrible. I just enjoy our little chats and talking with him, besides explaining the whole technopath thing is something I want to tell him. He already thinks I’m nerd, what’s he going to think when I tell him that my main best friend is a computer and that I can control other types of devices just by a thought or touch?"

"Technology seems to understand even myself, you have amazing abilities, but I must bring something to your attention. You mentioned him in your sleep last night. Around zero-three hundred hours, you called out his name. I was concerned he had entered the house without proper authorization."

Rose looked down and to the side for a moment. The memory from months ago, clearly wasn't a dream but something that did happen. It weighed on her often whenever she tried to remember it more. It wasn't like her to hook up with coworkers, and to make it two of them in one night only made her more embarrassed. Biting her lip, she looked into electric blues hues before sighing heavily.

"Thanks for letting me know, but I have to go." Moving over to the side, she reached for her door and opened it. Looking back one last time over to her AI companion who stood in the center of the room she gave one last command. "Lock up and hit the lights for me. Don't forget to get some sleep, I'll need you later on, Monday is test day and I’ll need some help for a study guide for Friday so my student can be prepared over the weekend."

"Acknowledged, have a good day at work Rose."

[angst-fairygodmother]

I loved your latest SVU Carisi fic! I would love something with Barba, please! Maybe something where he asks a coworker (either a detective or someone from the ME's office) to an event, either because he's lonely or embarrassed to go alone again.

A/N: Can I just say, I appreciate how general these prompts are for SVU because they really give me the room to go where the whim takes me? Because I do (not that I don’t love prompt lists, but this style just works for me with this fandom). I hope you enjoy the direction that this one ended up. Also, I watched several Barba episodes and a bunch of clips for “research” and that was a hole I was not planning to end up back in, but I still love him, apparently. Not quite as much as the first time around, but enough. Word Count: 2804 Tagging: @writefasttalkevenfaster

“Mr. Barba! What brings you to my dark little dungeon corner of the world?” you asked, smiling brightly as the ADA strolled into the morgue like it was Central Park at noon.

“Y/N, please. How many times do I have to tell you to call me Rafael, or at least drop the ‘Mr.’ We’ve seen each other’s worst, there’s no need to be so formal,” he said, returning your smile with a small one of his own and a rueful shake of his head.

It was true that you and Rafael had known each other for years, since your school days when your stubborn and shameless self had wormed your way into the DA’s office, allegedly as part of a research project for school (a story that didn’t hold up when you never left). And he, still a young, brash ADA (not that the brash part had changed or ever would), had largely been stuck dealing with you as you poked through records and cases and pointed out all the places that they could have done better with handling the forensics of things. They never chased you out, because it came in handy over time and you had a charm that made your Nancy Drew nosiness, as he had nicknamed it, more amusing than annoying. By the time you had graduated, you were practically a part of the inner circle at that office, and it was easy to leverage that (along with your shining grades of course) into a prime position as a medical examiner.

Of course, the most valuable thing you had gotten out of all of it was still the friendship of Rafael Barba. He’d encouraged you through exams and romantic breakups and personal stresses without blinking and you’d done as much of the same for him as you could. He’d poured your inebriated ass into more taxies than you could count and sent you just as many hangover-cure breakfast deliveries. You’d laughed together, cried together, held each other up when the world seemed to be trying to crush you.

And still, at work at least, you insisted on calling him “Mr. Barba.”

“We have, but you’re also the one who talks about the need to keep professional lives separate.” You shrugged with a smirk. “Besides, it amuses you how much me calling you ‘Mr. Barba’ makes you squirm.”

He rolled his eyes. “I brought lunch.” He held up a familiar paper bag, no doubt containing sandwiches and raspberry turnovers from your favorite diner.

“Not dignifying me with a proper response I see,” you teased. “And bringing me food. Either I’m in trouble or you’re trying to bribe me for a favor. I hope it’s the first one, it’s always more fun.”

Your smirk widened and you waggled your eyebrows at him, waving him over into the little lounge area outside your office and pouring two paper cups of tepid coffee. He silently passed you your sandwich, hoping that you didn’t notice the light blush creeping up around his ears, or his quick intake of breath as you bit into it and moaned involuntarily. You both chewed in silence for a while, and you tried to just enjoy his company, as you usually did. But there was a strange tension in the air, unsettling the comfort of the silence and putting you on edge as you waited for whatever he came to talk to you about.

“Alex and Yelina’s tenth anniversary is coming up,” he said finally, trying to hide the strain in his voice, even though he knew you knew him well enough to notice it anyway.

You nodded silently, a sympathetic grimace on your face. You knew how much it had stung to him to attend the wedding and watch his childhood best friend marry his first love.

“They’re having a charity gala to celebrate. And personally invited me to go.”

You sucked in a hiss through your teeth. “Ouch.”

He nodded dejectedly. “I can’t say no to them. But I don’t know if I can get through the evening.”

“I could write you a doctor’s note. Fake some sort of illness preventing you from…I don’t know being in that large of a crowd or something?”

He laughed, and you smiled at the sound, knowing that it meant things weren’t quite as bad as they could be, and you didn’t need to break into your secret bourbon stash to fix them.

“Actually,” he said, buttoning his jacket and then immediately unbuttoning it again, as you often saw him do before a particularly difficult argument in court. “I was hoping you’d come with me, as my plus one. It’d really help to have a friendly face that I know can hold their own against the vultures.”

You sat in stunned silence for several minutes, staring at him. Your mind raced. Had he just asked you on a date? And if so, did you want to say yes?

When you didn’t answer, he shifted awkwardly, clearing his throat to get your attention. You jumped, startled out of your thoughts by the noise.

“I don’t want to impose; you were the first person I thought of. I know it’s not really your scene. I shouldn’t have asked,” he said, waving his hand dismissively, as if to tell you to forget the whole thing.

“Oh. Sorry, it took me a minute. I guess I just didn’t expect it. I thought you’d ask Olivia or someone, you know. I’d be happy to go with you though. I’d love to, really,” you started at the same time, leading the two of you to be talking over each other like fools.

You both stopped, you trailing off more than his abrupt end, and then you locked eyes and you giggled. After a few seconds of delay, he joined your laughter and soon, there were tears in your eyes and he seemed to be struggling for breath as you took absolute joy in the ridiculousness of it.

“Honestly Raf, I don’t know why you even questioned it,” you said when you had gotten yourself under control again. “Of course I’ll go with you. What else are best friends for?”

“Oh thank god,” he breathed, relief evident on his face.

“So how fancy are we talking? Am I going to need formal wear, or will a nice cocktail dress that covers all the bits be enough?” your eyebrows wiggled again and he chuckled.

~

The night of the event, you were just putting the finishing touches on your appearance – making sure everything was perfect down to every hair in the right place, but not like you tried too hard, wanting to seem like this was not as big of a deal as you had slowly worked yourself up into thinking it might be – when a knock on your door alerted you to Rafael’s arrival. When you answered, you were momentarily stunned, a tux shouldn’t seem all that different than his usual three-piece suits, and yet…

Luckily, he seemed just as thrown off by your appearance, and the pair of you just stared at each other.

Finally, you broke the spell, gesturing lamely behind you. “I just have to uh, grab my bag, and then I’ll be good to go.” You tried to smile at him, but you were pretty sure it came off as more of a discomforted grimace.

And why shouldn’t you be discomforted? All this time, there had never been anything between you (though you would be the first to admit that you had found him attractive when the two of you met). And now, suddenly, you couldn’t look at him without feeling that fizzy, almost nauseous twist in your gut, the flutter of your pulse at the sight of his smile, the overwhelming desire to absolutely wreck his perfectly styled hair and pressed lapel as you pulled him close and ran your hands over every inch of him in a sensuous war for dominance. You tried to tell yourself it was just the occasion, the fact that he had asked you to be his guest to an event that clearly meant a lot to him, and that it really meant nothing. If you could maintain the lie for long enough, you pretended to believe, everything would go back to normal.

The car ride over to the event hall was short, the time filled with a primer on the various important people (both politically and to him) that would be at the party. Most of it was information you already knew, but still, you let him talk, knowing that it made him feel calmer. And then you were linking arms with him, hand delicately wrapped around the fold of his elbow and walking through the grand arching doorway.

“Thus, into hell,” you muttered too low for even him to hear, forcing a smile.

Introductions were made, hands were shook, the air next to cheeks were kissed. You had not yet met the couple of the hour, but you felt like you had met the entire rest of their world, dragged into mind-numbing small talk about stocks and board meetings, policies and constituents (where they were numbers and dollar signs and goals rather than people). At some point, you were separated from Rafael by some women who were absolutely determined to drag you into their conversation about some community center building charity and the related press benefits of visiting the construction site. They all flinched and tittered uncomfortably when you pointed out that their manicures would get ruined and they’d just be interrupting the professionals actually doing the work and wouldn’t it be better to just do a ribbon-cutting photo op when the project was over?

Finally, you managed to extricate yourself and found Rafael by the bar, sucking down a bourbon like no one’s business. He turned to the bartender as you approached and already had a vodka soda waiting when you reached him.

“My hero,” you said taking a deep drink. “Don’t ever leave me alone with those people again.”

“That bad?” he asked, eyes dancing as he smiled at you over the rim of his glass.

“I think I felt my soul exit my body. Twice. Why are you drinking so heavily already?”

“Alex and Yelina just arrived. I managed to duck them, but not before I got to bear witness to the whole…loving couple photo op.”

“Oh. I’m sorry Raf. Still, if they’re here, we should go say our hellos. The sooner we do the sooner we can blow this popsicle stand, yeah?”

He grimaced and finished his drink. “I suppose you’re right.”

He turned to walk away and you tugged him back to face you.

“Wait, here,” you said, reaching up to fiddle with his bow tie, fingers skimming his throat in the process and you swore you felt him flinch at the contact. “You were crooked,” you explained.

~

���Rafael!” Yelina said, smiling brightly and pulling him in for a hug. “I’m so glad you could make it!”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, you know that,” he said, smiling at her in a way that made a soft twinge in your chest that you tried to pretend wasn’t jealousy.

“Congratulations, both of you,” he said, patting Alex on the shoulder.

“And who is this?” another woman in the crowd, who you thought had been introduced as the wife of some other senator but you hadn’t been paying that much attention, said, gesturing to you. “I mean I know this party is doubling as a charity gala, but you didn’t need to bring an example case.”

“Excuse me?” you snapped, glaring at her.

“Oh you know what I mean darling. It’s not an insult, just stating facts that you obviously don’t belong. It’s little signs, you really do look…fine. But the hair, the clearance rack clothes, and when is the last time you had your nails done?”

“Y/N is one of the most brilliant medical professionals in New York City,” Rafael cut in before you could respond, curling his arm protectively around your waist. “And not that it’s any measure of character, looks fantastic by the way. But it’s an organic, genuine beauty so it’s no surprise that you don’t see it Mrs. Johnsville. After all, you haven’t seen your own genuine appearance in, I’d guess twenty years? Or maybe it’s jealousy causing you to say such spiteful things to the most incredible person in the room. Either way, I’d suggest you stop, before someone brings up your husband’s scandals and causes a scene.”

You turned your head to stare at him, lost for words. There was a not-so-subtle threat in his words, but that didn’t matter to you in light of the things he was saying about you, or the adoring way he said them.

He turned back to his old friends. “Alex, Yelina, I hate to do this, but I’m not going to stand around and let someone insult my date that way. So we’re leaving, but maybe we can get dinner sometime soon and catch up.”

“Of course, Rafi,” Alejandro said, his polite political host smile edging its way toward a smirk. “The four of us will have to do that.”

~

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Rafael said, sighing as you both sat in the car. “She had no right to speak to you that way. I…”

“Stop, Raf. It’s not your fault. And you jumped in like a knight in shining armor, no harm done.”

“Are you sure?”

“I mean, I’m a little disappointed that I got all dressed up for you and I didn’t even get to dance…” you stuck your lower lip out in an exaggerated pout that made him laugh. “But I’m sure you’ll make it up to me somehow.”

“And for having dinner with Alex and Yelina and I. Assuming you’re willing to. Which I totally understand if you’re not.”

“I was wondering if you were going to bring up that invitation,” you laughed. “And of course I’m willing. I’ve told you before, and I’ll say it as many times as I have to to get it through your skull, I’ll do anything for you, Raf.”

Suddenly you had a brilliant idea and you looked over at him with a grin.

“Uh-oh, I know that look…”

“You know what’s better than dancing and wining and dining when you’re dressed to the nines?” you said, eyes aglow the longer you thought about it.

“What?”

“Being dressed to the nines to eat greasy diner burgers! Let’s go to Hank’s!” You grabbed the hand that rested on the center console in both of yours, pulling it close to you and batting your eyelashes pleadingly at him.

He groaned and shook his head. “Alright.”

~

“You know,” Rafael said, shifting nervously as he walked you to the door of your building. “There was a bit of a wreck in the middle, but all in all, this wasn’t such a bad first date.”

“Is that what this was?” you asked, heart skipping a beat as your both stopped on the steps.

“Would you be mad if I said yes?”

“A little. I mean, you could have told me sooner. I would have done way cuter shit all night.”

He laughed, looking at you softly. “I don’t need you to do cuter shit. You’re perfect the way you are.”

“See, shit like that,” you waved your hands around in frustration. “I don’t have a good comeback compliment for you because I wasn’t expecting it. You threw me off my game, charming bastard.”

“Y/N…”

“If this was a date, I believe a goodnight kiss is traditional,” you smiled.

He leaned in, close enough for you to smell the cologne he wore and the alcohol he’d had earlier and the spearmint breath mint he’d picked up from beside the diner’s register when he’d insisted on paying. His lips brushed lightly against yours but he quickly pulled away, just enough to look you in the eyes.

“You’d better not be calling that my kiss,” you teased.

“Are you sure about this, Y/N?”

Sighing in exasperation, you did as you’d imagined earlier and grabbed him by the lapels to tug him closer and press your lips to his. He sighed against your mouth, bringing one hand up to cup the back of your head gently and hold you closer, the other arm wrapping tightly around your waist. Your lips parted, opening up to him and your tongues danced together like it was what they were designed for.

Gasping for air, you both pulled away, and he pressed his forehead to yours.

“Thank you for tonight,” he whispered.

“Night’s not over, yet,” you answered with a shrug.

“What?”

The words felt inevitable, but right, as they worked their way through your throat.

“Do you want to come upstairs, Raf? We can watch a movie or…dance…”

[sad-sweet-cowboah]

Impromptu Office Meeting

Summary: You and Arthur work for the same company. On the side, you two maintain a relationship that remains a secret around your other coworkers. You find Arthur’s been stressed and coax him into taking a relaxing lunch break.

Warnings: Oral sex, light swearing

12 pm, lunchtime.

As soon as the clock recorded your punch out for lunch, you stood up from your office chair and stretched out, letting out a soft groan. After four hours of answering phones and scheduling appointments, you definitely needed a quick walk to wake yourself up.

“Enjoy your lunch, Y/N!” Your coworker, Tilly, called over the the other end of the desk.

You shot a smile at her. “Wish I was going home instead.” You joked, walking from the receptionist desk and toward the doorway that led deeper into the building. Hell, you were only half joking. Being a receptionist wasn’t the most glamorous of jobs, but it paid the bills decently enough.

It also helped that your coworkers were bearable. More than bearable; they were much like a second family to you from the way they treated you, the bosses always making sure you didn’t stay too late or had help on days when it seemed busier than most.

From what you understood, most of the employees knew one another before the company started, and had been working for them for years. You were a newer hire, settling yourself for reception after being let go from your previous position. Having to take angry calls and answer dumb questions for even dumber people was enough to make your head spin, however you forged through each day with a forced smile on your face.

You had to wonder why Tilly remained so chipper despite having to deal with this on a daily basis. You asked her one day, and she had a simple answer: it was only temporary. And she was right, it was. Still, you could only wish to have the amount of happiness she did to not hang up halfway through a phone call.

On your way toward the break room, some chatter piqued your interest. Familiar voices conversing and laughing with one another. Upon coming to the partially closed door, you were able to pick out each distinctive voice, one in particular that made your heart leap.

Pushing the door open to reveal the small break room, you set your eyes on its inhabitants. Karen, a lazy office assistant who spent more time gossiping than working, but she had a great sense of humor and showed progress when pushed. Charles, a usually quiet but hardworking man who oversaw warehouse inventory. And last but not least, Arthur, one of the higher ups that were often favored by the bosses for all the right reasons. Always performing his hardest and never demeaning those that would be considered beneath his position, even stepping in to help if others became overwhelmed.

It was one of the reasons why you fell in love with him.

He and Charles leaned against the tiny kitchen counter, smiles on their faces as Karen shared the tail end of a joke that you seemed to have missed. When you stepped in completely, all eyes turned to you.

“Hey, Y/N,” Charles greeted. “How’s your day going?”

“Pretty good, Charles. Thanks for asking.” You said politely, offering him a smile as you walked toward the fridge.

“Y/N!” Karen gleefully exclaimed. “I just heard this joke, it’s pretty funny!”

Arthur gave you a smile, a small one that reflected something more in his eyes. You shot him a quick smile back before digging into the fridge for your lunch, having only paid partial attention to Karen repeating her joke. The coffee maker was on, evident that the two men were probably waiting for it to roast before returning to their respective spots.

By the time you sat down, Charles and Arthur had left. You and Karen spoke for a few minutes while you munched on your lunch, yet eventually you found yourself alone. The quiet that surrounded you was nice, your head finally stopped buzzing from the incessant phone rings. There was however 45 minutes left for your break, and normally you would be reading a book or passing the time by playing a game on your phone.

Your mind was drifting around Arthur. You were in a relationship with him, a secret one at that. You two started to date a few months after you were hired, and opted to keep it in hushed tones in concern of judgement and unprofessionalism. You also knew some of the office ladies had crushes on him, the way they giggled and fawned over him while he wasn’t looking. It were as if you were in high school again.

It still sometimes shocked you to think out of everyone else, he picked you. A simple receptionist with no other attributes other than your ability to multitask. But he looked at you as if you were a Goddess, and treated you as such when away from prying eyes.

And so you wondered what he was up to at this moment.

You got up from the table, leaving the break room and made your way toward his office. You were careful to keep watch, making sure no one could see what you were up to. Luckily no one else was wandering the halls, and you soon found yourself standing in front of a closed door with his name in large print.

You knocked, and once you heard him speak, you opened the door.

His office wasn’t huge, but it wasn’t small either. He had a decent sized desk that faced the entrance with a large computer monitor tilted to the side. He kept his workspace neat; a few framed pictures here and there. There was minimal décor elsewhere, a plant sitting in the windowsill, a few professional photos on the walls of places out West, where he was from.

He looked up at you in faint surprise, quickly melting into a smile. “Hey, Y/N. Need somethin’?”

You closed the door behind you, shaking your head. “Nah, just wanted to see what you were doing.”

The smile faded from his face, his eyes shifting toward the computer screen. “Eh…too much,” he sighed. “Lots o’ paperwork to review. Think I’m gonna end up workin’ through my lunch if I wanna get outta here on time. Past few nights I’ve been leavin’ late, and Dutch won’t have that.”

Your frown matched his, and you walked forward, rounding the desk and placing your hands on his broad shoulders. His muscles were hard underneath, and you began to massage him. “Ooh, my poor baby. You’re so tense.” You cooed.

Arthur let out a groan, relaxing immediately from your touch. He leaned back in his chair, tilting his head to look up at you. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

You smiled down at him, leaning to plant a light kiss on his lips. “Wish I could help you if I could. How about dinner tonight?”

“If I get out in time,” he sighed. “Don’t cook tonight, wouldn’t be fair if I showed up dead on my feet.”

Your fingers hit a knot, further confirming its presence when he flinched. You rubbed your thumb over it, easing the tension out with precision. “Sounds like you need a break.” You mused.

“Ah, can’t take one. Been behind on this stuff for the past two days. Gotta get it done ‘fore Dutch jumps on my throat again.”

You managed to work the knot out, smiling to yourself in satisfaction before moving to the next. You then scoffed at his response. “You’re less productive if you don’t have a break, Arthur. Overworking yourself will ruin your mind and body. It’s not healthy.”

“Didn’t know you were a doctor too.” He mumbled dryly.

“I’m serious,” you countered, placing a hand on his chin to meet his gaze. “And legally, you have to.”

Arthur stared at you for a long moment, and you waited to see if he’d protest again. Instead he sighed and sat up straight, pulling up the program on his computer to clock on for lunch. “Alright, but I don’t wanna hear it when I come late and pass out tonight.”

You rolled your eyes and lightly smacked his arm, and went back to massaging him. He leaned right into your touch, closing his eyes and letting out a long sigh. As you worked the kinks from his muscles, you couldn’t help but to marvel the sight in front of you.

His outfit was always simple; a button up shirt and a pair of slacks. Today he decided to wear all black, the sleek fabric of his shirt shining faintly underneath the fluorescent tiles above. It accented the curves of his arms, shoulders and chest in every way. The top few buttons were open, showing just a slight amount of his chest. He was sexy, even if he didn’t think so himself. You had to remind him on a daily basis early on in your relationship. You couldn’t help but to secretly drool over him at work every day, but the first time you saw him naked nearly gave you heart palpations.

“You’re too good to me, ya know?” Arthur sighed, bringing you out of your thoughts. His hand reached up to drape over yours, squeezing it slightly.

You smiled at him again. “Just trying time take care of you, since you can’t seem to do it yourself.” You giggled.

He let out a small chuckle. “Appreciate it, darlin’,” the amusement in his face fell, his other hand rubbing his forehead. “Been too much these past few days…”

You smoothed his hair sympathetically, and he leaned into your touch and closed his eyes. Your fingers ran through his fair, scratching your nails lightly along his scalp.

“Been so stressed…” he murmured. “Feels like I can’t relax at all.”

“Hey, it’s only temporary.” You said to him, using Tilly’s words. He hummed in response, saying nothing else. You wished you could help him more, but you’ve only seen a fraction of the type of work he does, and you had to commend him for having to stick through with it. It wasn’t something you’d be able to do without getting confused in the details of it all.

Your mind began to wander, thinking of ways to help him relax for the short hour break. You’d worked out the knots of his shoulders. It would have to be discreet, hoping to not capture the attention of your coworkers.

And then a dirty thought crossed your mind, enough for heat to flare in your face. It shouldn’t even have a second consideration given that you were at work, but you knew how much he enjoyed it. You glanced at his pants, biting your lip and moving from behind him to face him. His eyes opened, a look of curiosity plain on his face. You then knelt down between his legs, and his eyebrows raised.

“Y/N, what’re you doin’?” he asked warily.

You gave him a smile, reaching to place your hand lightly against his crotch. “Helping you relax.”

His breath hitched slightly, tensing around you. “Y/N. We’re at work. This ain’t a good-”

You shushed him gently, sliding your hand to rub a soothing circle on his chest. “Just gonna use my mouth.”

“What if someone walks in?” he asked, worry etched in his eyes.

“More people are out than in at the moment,” you reminded him. But just in case, you scooted backward, resting partially underneath his desk. “Not like anyone’s gonna come in and interrupt.”

“’Cept you.” He murmured, giving you a pointed look.

Your only answer was to smirk at him, quickly shooting a wink while your hand returned to its prize. You pulled the zipper down, reaching in to fish out his semi-hardened cock. Wrapping your hand around his thick girth, you pumped him slowly a few times, watching his head tilt back against the chair. He let out a sigh as his body visibly released the tension in your grip.

It only took half a moment before he was at full mast, you brought your mouth to the tip, sliding your tongue across the slit and underneath, toying with the sensitive pinch of skin. He let out a soft groan, his chest heaving in a deep breath. You traced a path up and down his length, enjoying the heated skin against your tongue. You soon engulfed the tip, sucking him sensually and slowly. He groaned again, slightly louder, his hands gripping the armrests of the chair.

“Sweetheart…” he sighed. “That feels so good…”

His words prompted you to sink down on him, his girth filling your mouth to almost the back of your throat. You began to bob your head, taking him further in your mouth with each pass. He whispered your name, placing his hand on the back of your head, knotting his fingers in your hair. Added pressure was welcoming, inviting you to completely deep throat him.

“Fuck,” he growled, his hips trembling beneath you. “You…you’re gonna make it hard to keep quiet.” He managed to whisper in one breath.

An innocent hum was your response, locking eyes with him as you did it once again. He sucked in air between his teeth, his other hand resting on the opposite side of your head. “Darlin’-” he gasped. “Please-!”

You pulled your mouth almost completely off him, giggling lightly as you returned to his normal pace. You knew with teasing like that was something you’d never been able to get away with, without some sort of revenge from him. You’ll be hearing about it later…or, feeling it.

He gave another sigh as he loosened his grip. “Did ya want me to fuck your face?” He exasperated, trying hard to keep his tone even.

You didn’t answer then, reaching up to cup and massage his balls through the fabric of his slacks. An action which caused him to melt once again. His breath shuddered, his fingers massaging your head. He groaned deeply, the vibration traveling through him.

You kept yourself at an easy speed, occasionally pausing to tease the head before swallowing him again. His entire body was limp like a dummy, only moving to stroke your head or face. His eyes occasionally locked on to yours, half-lidded and glazed with pure lust. He wanted to take you then and there, you could tell.

“Baby, I’m gonna cum soon.” He sighed after a few moments. His hand gripped your hair harder, pressing your head down a little further.

You reached your hand up to this thigh, rubbing it in understanding. He moved his free hand to take yours, squeezing it gently and enjoying the moment of sweet intimacy regardless of the circumstance. Faster and faster you went, attempting to coax him closer to his climax.

A knock on the door caught your attention. Simultaneously, you froze and Arthur sat up straight.

“Arthur? May I come in?” A voice from the other side sounded. You recognized it as Hosea, one of the company owners and one of yours-and Arthur’s-bosses.

“Uh-” Arthur tried to answer, trying to hide the nervousness that plagued his voice. The door however opened, and your stomach lurched.

You still had him in your mouth, still very rock hard and throbbing slightly against your tongue. You dared not to move in case the slightest of sounds would make your presence known, and prayed Arthur wouldn’t make any sudden movements of his own that would have you gagging. You were so thankful Arthur’s desk had a wall between you and the door.

"How are you today, my dear boy?" Hosea asked with a cheerful and caring tone.

“Good. Just, uh, got on my lunch break.” Arthur answered awkwardly. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see his free hand move, most likely to gesture toward his computer.

“Excellent. I just needed to ask, have you seen Y/N?”

Your eyes widened. Did Hosea somehow know about your relationship with Arthur? Did he know you were right there?

“No,” Arthur answered immediately. “Why would I know?”

“I was told she’s on lunch, and Karen said to ask you and Charles. Charles only saw her in the break room,” Hosea answered. “I must speak with her about a phone call with one of our clients.”

The thought of Hosea somehow finding about your secret dwindled slightly, and you were able to relax a touch. Your tongue pressed up against the underside of Arthur’s length, a move which caused his hips to twitch just a fraction.

“I-If I see her,” Arthur began, fighting to hide the stammer in his voice. His hand tightened around yours. “I’ll send ‘er your way.”

“Thanks, Arthur.” Hosea spoke before you heard the movement of feet and the door closing.

Blood roared in your ears, neither of you speaking for a moment as you listened to the fading echo of footsteps. Your heart was still hammering against your rib cage.

“Shit…” Arthur murmured, breathing a heavy sigh of relief. “That was too close.”

You looked up at him, sliding your mouth off him. “Way too close,” you agree, glancing behind you. “Glad you have a desk like this.”

Arthur chuckled softly, smoothing his rough hand across your cheek before gripping himself, tugging at the open zipper in attempt to tuck back in. “First n’ last time we-”

You cut him off when your hand curled around his. You smirked up at him, carefully prying his fingers from himself. “Didn’t say I was finished, though.”

He looked at you in surprise. “Y/N, we nearly-”

“But we didn’t,” you added bluntly. “Besides, you were close. I’d hate to edge you and give you blue balls for the rest of the day.”

Arthur appeared as if he wanted to argue, but your mouth taking its place on his length erased the mere thought from his head. His breath shuddered and his head lolled back, uncaring about the previous encounter.

It didn’t take much longer for him to finish. A few short moments of your deep throating had him nearly fucking your face. His entire body vibrated with his groans that were almost wolf-like. His voice breathless, he murmured his pleasure to you, his hands gripping your head as he shoved your mouth down completely. His hips locked, shooting his hot spend down your throat. He hissed out a swear as quietly as possible, pumping his hips shallowly to milk himself dry. Once he released your head, you slowly removed your mouth.  Swallowing the last of his seed, you reached over to tuck him neatly back into his pants. He looked as if he ran a marathon, his chest heaving as he attempted to catch his breath.

His eyes locked with yours, and a dopey smile crossed his face. He beckoned you closer, and you stood up to join your lips to his, eliciting a tender kiss. His hands cupped your face while you ran your fingers through his soft hair. After a long moment, he gently pulled back.

“How do you feel now?” you asked quietly, smiling at him.

“Ten times better,” he rumbled with a small laugh. “Guess I did need that.”

“See? Told you it would help,” You cheekily responded. “Even if we did almost get caught by one of the bosses.”

“Speakin’ o’ which, you should go n’ see what he needed ya for. How much longer you got for your break?”

You glanced at the computer screen, realizing with a jolt that more time passed than you realized. “Fifteen minutes,” you sighed. “Guess I should go before I’m thrown back into the fray.”

Arthur rolled his eyes, although the smile on his face remained. “Go on then, I’ll see ya tonight.”

“You got it, Mr. Morgan.” You said, leaning down to plant a quick kiss on his forehead before heading towards the door. As you reached for the handle, he spoke again.

“By the way, I’m eatin’ you for lunch next time.”

You froze in surprise, wondering if you just heard that correctly. You peered over your shoulder at him. “What happened to first and last time?”

His head tilted down, holding your gaze with a mischievous gleam in his eye. “Just gotta lock the door next time.”

Your eyebrows raised, still in shock by the 180 shift in attitude towards this impromptu meeting. You hadn’t planned to make this a reoccurring event, however the thought of it bloomed deep in your stomach, stirring up a newfound excitement. “Alright,” you said with a sultry tone. “I look forward to it.”

[ahtohallan-calling]

Is that a joke? When are we not interested? Haha love this au and love you!!

follow up to this drabble in my single dad kristoff/coffeeshop au verse, cw for sexual harassment

For what had to be the ten-thousandth time, Anna found herself immensely grateful that she’d fallen in love with a man of seemingly infinite patience, a man who was currently putting that patience to good use as he sat quietly in front of her on the edge of his bed while she ran her pomade-laden fingers through his hair.

“Thanks again for this,” she said as she leaned forward slightly so she could reach the back of his head. “I know it’s super last minute and that you probably just wanted to spend your Friday night relaxing for once and–”

“Anna,” he said, and she went silent, biting her lip.

Kristoff settled his large hands on the curve of her waist, keeping her close. “You do so much for me and Alice, it’s the least I could do,” he said.

“But you hate meeting new people and big parties and–”

“But you’ll be there,” he said with a lopsided smile. “So it won’t be so bad.”

Something warm swelled in her chest at the sight of him looking up at her, his honey-brown eyes warm and earnest and full of love, and she couldn’t help but lean down to kiss him with a happy sigh.

“Love you, you big ol’ softie,” she murmured between kisses, and he chuckled.

“Love you, too. But we’re going to be late if you don’t hurry up and get dressed.”

“What, you don’t want me to go to a work party in my underwear?”

He nipped playfully at her bottom lip. “Let’s keep that just for the afterparty.”

—

She had bought the dress on her way home this afternoon– she really had completely forgotten about it until her friend had asked her what time she planned to arrive at the wrap party. It was for another show, one she had no part of, but as the face of Poppy’s Garden Tales she was expected to make an appearance at every event like this. This time, though, thankfully, her date wasn’t the little puppet like the PR team sometimes requested. “It makes for great photo ops, Anna”– well, her date this time certainly also made for great photo ops, and she was determined to get as many pictures as she could beside him tonight while he wore that tux that she’d managed to find in the back of his closet.

She knew he felt the same way and felt color rise in her cheeks at the thought of the way he’d looked at her when she’d finally finished slicking back his hair and changed into the dress she’d bought with him in mind just in case he’d needed a little convincing to come to the event. 

It was nothing like what she usually wore– certainly not what she wore to film the show, so she was sure it had been a surprise not only for Kristoff but for her coworkers as well. The dark green velvet was held up only by a thin pair of straps and fell to just above her knees; she had felt sexy in it when she stepped in front of Kristoff and watched his eyes travel from her face down to the heels she wore and back up again. Now she just felt awkward as she perched on a stool by the bar; it was a lot more fitted than her usual outfits, which did a lot to show off her almost nonexistent curves when she stood but meant that when she sat she was constantly tugging at the hem to try and keep herself decent.

She’d feel better when Kristoff was back and she could duck discreetly behind him to adjust the dress. He’d been by her side all night til now, gamely greeting every executive and director and cameraman Anna introduced him to, keeping a smile on his face each time someone gasped and asked, “Oh, you’re that Bjorgman? Whatever happened with you getting drafted for the NFL?”

But finally he’d leaned down and whispered, “Anna, I love you, but I really need a–”

“There’s another bathroom upstairs,” she’d replied, squeezing his hand. “Most people won’t bother going all the way up there, so you’ll have all the time you need for a break.”

He’d given her a broad smile then, a real one this time, before loping off away from the crowd as quickly as he could without drawing attention. And she was fine without him, really, especially now that she had a fresh cosmo in hand to sip on.

“Anna? Is that you?”

She glanced up to see one of the producers from another show sliding onto a stool next to her. “Oh, hey, Kevin.”

He let out a low whistle. “Almost didn’t recognize you in that dress. Quite a change from your Poppy sweaters, eh?”

“Oh, um, yeah, guess it is,” she said, unsure why the smile playing at the corners of his mouth was making her skin crawl; she took another sip of her drink to cover her discomfort.

“Really shows off your freckles,” he said, leaning forward and setting his left hand on her knee. “I didn’t know you even had them on your legs. Makes a man wonder if you have them all over.”

Her eyes landed on the gold wedding band glinting on his finger; she knew she should shove his hand aside, toss her drink at him, jump off the stool and run, but instead she sat, frozen, and watched his thumb begin to slide up and down on the inside of her thigh.

“Do you, Anna? Have them all over?” Kevin asked, his voice low.

She gulped, feeling a cold sweat begin to prick at her skin. “I— I—“

A large hand settled on her shoulder, and she jumped at the sudden contact; glancing up, she saw it was Kristoff. A relieved smile broke out across her face, a sharp contrast to the murderous expression on his.  

Kevin seemed unbothered, his smile only broadening as he looked up at Kristoff even as his hand slid further up her thigh, teasing at the hem of her skirt. “Hey, Bjorgman! Haven’t seen you around since high—“

“Get your fucking hands off my girlfriend,” Kristoff said, his voice ice cold and lethal. 

Kevin’s eyes widened as he jerked away from her, throwing his hands up in surrender. “Hey, sorry, man, didn’t realize you’d—“

“Keep your excuses and your goddamn hands to yourself,” Kristoff snarled, “or I’ll tell your wife about the little stunt you just tried to pull.”

Kevin stood and walked away so quickly the stool he’d been sitting on nearly fell over. Kristoff caught it just in time and sat on it, the dangerous glint in his eyes replaced by concern as he leaned towards Anna, holding out his hands to take hers. 

“You okay?” he asked, his brows pinching together. 

She managed a shaky nod. “Yeah, I— I need to make a couple more rounds, but then— then can we go home?”

“It’s your party, baby,” he said softly, squeezing her hands gently in his. “You just tell me what to do, and I’ll be right there with you.”

She smiled gratefully at him as she stood. “What would I do without you, Kris?”

“You don’t ever have to worry about that,” he reassured her, setting a hand on the small of her back. “I’m not going anywhere.”

—-

Later that night, when they’d made sure Alice was still fast asleep in her bed where the babysitter had left her, and Anna’s face was scrubbed clean of makeup and Kristoff’s hair, still damp, hung in his eyes once more, they laid in bed facing each other, only moonlight illuminating the room. 

Anna ran a hand slowly up and down Kristoff’s arm, tracing the familiar lines of muscle she had a new appreciation for. “Kris?”

“What is it, baby?”

“Remember when I said I couldn’t picture you being scary and tackling people and stuff?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I can now.”

He frowned a little and scooted closer, draping an arm protectively over her waist. “I can go punch the shit out of him if you want.”

She laughed at that, though she had to admit it was reassuring to hear him offer it. “No, you can’t— I mean, you can, but you shouldn’t. Not that I wouldn’t enjoy the show.”

“I did tell his wife, though, messaged her on Facebook. I did before I even went over there, actually. I snapped a picture really quick to send, I— I’m sorry that slowed me down a little. I just…”

“Did you really?” she asked, eyes wide. 

“Uh-huh.”

She launched herself at him then, flinging her arms around him. He fell easily onto his back under the onslaught of affection, grinning up at her as she hovered over him, her hair hanging like a curtain around their faces. 

“I love you,” she said, “so much.”

He ran a hand gently up and down her forearm. “I love you, too. And I know you can hold your own and stand up for yourself, so I hope—“

“No, I— normally I could, and I thought I…well, I knew I could, but in the moment I just froze, and…and you came at just the right time. And I’m glad I was wrong about you being intimidating, because the look on Kevin’s face was fantastic.” She leaned down and kissed him softly. “And I just wish I could see the look on his wife’s face when he gets home.”

Kristoff’s hand floated up to cup her cheek. “Are you sure you’re okay, baby?”

She kissed his forehead, just the way he always kissed her. “I am.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

[kathleen-meyer-lyme-survivor]

DISCLAIMER:  I have signed a waiver and become a contributor to an upcoming book by a fellow, healed Lyme patient. Some or all of this story may be published in the coming months. I have added and updated some of this information 9.12.2020, so hopefully I will not violate any copyright laws. 

 

NOTE:  Do not assume everything I write here or on my Facebook Lyme page will help. Everyone heals differently. Working with a knowledgeable, sincere doctor and finding the right combination of medication, herbs, personal lifestyle and diet changes will help. One size doesn’t fit all for Lyme disease treatments. Don’t be afraid to research and consult with your doctor. Get a notebook and write down EVERYTHING; diet, exercise, symptoms, dates, times, and ANY physical or emotional stress-causing events. Stress seems to be the biggest culprit of all diseases. Hypocrites stated, “All disease begins in the gut”. HE WAS RIGHT!! 

 

NAME:  Kathleen Meyer 

I live in Northern VA. I am a retired, 60+ year old Grandmother. I am widowed, and I was living alone when Lyme hit. Symptoms began between September 12-14, 2012. 

 

BACKSTORY:  September 12, 2012. I felt something prick my lower back. When I reached around to check, the area was very hot to touch. This was in my car in Reston, Virginia, on a 90+ degree day. I had left the car windows open slightly during the work day. 

The previous two weeks, I had been on vacation to the Pacific Northwest, to visit my Sister. While there, I visited a national park, which is highly populated by deer and other furry animals; large and small. There was hiking and a few photo ops while sitting on a rock wall. Deer roam around freely in the town where my Sister lives. 

After going to my family doctor almost daily between 9/14-10/12 to complain of strange symptoms, I was finally tested for Lyme, West Nile virus and Rocky Mountain Spotted fever. My doctor was skeptical at first, but I kept insisting the symptoms weren’t normal for any flu I had ever had. When I mentioned living by woods and recently spending time in a national park, I was taken more seriously.  

 

I was diagnosed with Lyme on October 12,2012, (clinically by relating symptoms) and blood work. Side note: Because I had Mono at age 18, I was also diagnosed with Mono “exposed”. I was instructed to go home, stay on bedrest and get clearance from an infectious disease doctor, before returning to work. I was on sick leave and coworker’s leave donations between 10/15-11/13/2012. I was also instructed NOT to work or look at work email while out sick; which I now understand completely. The philosophy seems to be, “Being out on sick leave means you’re too sick to be at work, so don’t try to do any work at home”. Never mind that after two weeks of bedrest, going stir crazy and wanting to do something, is very normal. 

 

TREATMENTS:  I was immediately placed on Doxycycline 200 mg, by the family doctor, for 20 days. That didn’t work. Then Doxycycline 200 mg for 10 days. When that didn’t work, there was 30 days additional. When I ran out, I waited between prescriptions about a week or two, to see if symptoms would come back. Symptoms kept coming back. I was on/off Doxycycline for a total of 60 days. My insurance company wouldn’t authorize more than 60 days, so I was given Cefuroxime 500 mg for 30 days. 

 

NOTE:  At the beginning of the Cefuroxime prescription I doubled the dose for the first 4 days, just to see what would happen. I realize that wasn’t a very smart thing to do, but I wanted to kill what was making me so sick. After the 4 days, I used the prescription correctly. At the end of the 30 days, no symptoms returned.  

 

NOTE:  I always eat yogurt in between any oral antibiotic dose. The reason is because all antibiotics kill all bacteria, including the beneficial bacteria we need in our gut, where the main part of the immune system is located. The other part of the immune system is our brain. The brain and gut communicate with each other UNLESS we have an illness like Lyme. The brain is affected and doesn't communicate correctly with the gut during Lyme, and probably during other autoimmune illnesses. 

 

MYSTERIOUS SYMPTOMS BEFORE TREATMENT:  High blood pressure, cardiomegaly, chronic bronchitis, prolapsed mitre heart valve, GERD, Barretts esophagus, large hiatal hernia. Other symptoms; short term memory issues, difficulty with vision, floaters, reading, sensitive to bright light and sunshine. Difficulty walking, bumping into walls, problems with grip and dropping things. Insomnia, sometimes several nights in a row. Constant buzzing, tingling, pain throughout my entire body. Chest pain, head and neck pain, difficulty with bowels, difficulty swallowing and anxiety from feeling so ill for no known reason, except Lyme. I was able to swallow correctly again, after an endoscopy and scraping of webbed growth (non-cancerous). 

 

WHAT THE WORLD NEEDS TO KNOW:  ALL doctors, nurses including E.R. personnel need to be made aware of how many hundreds of symptoms Lyme can have. It is known to mimic at least 400 other illnesses and syndromes. Millions of people worldwide are being mis-diagnosed or given catch-all diagnosis out of frustration. Doctors have about 15 minutes per patient and don’t have time to research and address everyone’s symptoms. More research is needed and the patient’s symptoms need to be taken more seriously. The phrase “The customer is always right”, needs to apply to patients as well. Haphazard treatment of symptoms and covering up symptoms DOESN’T WORK FOR LYME!! 

 

NOTE:  Most medical schools are funded by big pharma. They do not provide enough education to upcoming doctors about Lyme and similar illnesses. They don’t stress enough on nutrition or healthy eating as a benefit to patients. I have asked my doctors and chiropractor about this, and they said the same thing. 

Do NOT listen to any doctor who tells you your child has “Growing Pains”. Find a doctor who is knowledgeable about Lyme, preferably a young doctor with a growing family of his/her own. My family doctor diagnosed and treated me correctly, was THAT doctor, not a specialist, a general practitioner. 

 

HOW HAS LYME CHANGED MY LIFE; GOOD AND BAD:   Lyme caused me to be bedridden for over 3 weeks, afraid to drive for fear of getting lost, and feeling like I had early onset Alzheimer’s. I now feel that it was an eye-opening experience, which awakened me to how poorly I had been managing my diet and exercise on a daily basis. I also believe the 2012 influenza shot might have been flawed, because I never felt healthy after that, and it possibly weakened my immune system so Lyme and Mono could sneak in.  

I went from quick and easy meals and very little exercise to self-improvement. I learned from the Lyme pages on Facebook from reading other people’s stories. It was almost like putting a really large jigsaw puzzle together, very slowly and not having all the pieces in front of me. 

 

SOMETHING I DO NOW THAT I NEVER DID BEFORE LYME:  I now pay closer attention to my physical and emotional health, what foods I eat and the amount of daily exercise I get. I also developed pre-diabetes type 2 during the Lyme period. I am now eating real food and watching my weight in order to keep the pre-diabetes under control, without medication.  

 

NOTE:  Doctor’s won’t tell you unless you press them, that medication for everything is NOT the best way to control anything, because you’re stuck on the medication for the rest of your life. Our bodies are capable of healing, with help by US.  

 

THE MOST FRUSTRATING PART OF LYME DISEASE:  I would have to say, lack of compassion for what patients are going through on the part of medical professionals, insurance companies, news media, and the general public. “Take these pills and you’ll feel better”. This doesn’t work with Lyme disease; trust me. However, I know many people who believe everything their doctor says and I hear, “My doctor says it’s__________. More research is needed and the actual CAUSE should be researched and treated instead of pills to cover up underlying symptoms. 

 

MY BIGGEST SUPPORTER(S):  I have a private Facebook page called “Where is Lyme Disease”, which has 249 members. I consider all of them to be my supporters; we support each other. I have been posting there since March, 2015, before any of us realized Lyme is EVERYWHERE!! I HAVE POSTED HOW I TREATED, HEALED AND WHAT I AM DOING NOW TO STAY HEALTHY. Those answers were not readily found using an internet search in 2012. Everything I post on the page is from what I went through. I am trying to help others with Lyme get through it and not give up. 

I give all credit to healing to authors of books about Lyme struggles. There are too many to mention, but “Cure Unknown” by Pamela Weintraub was the best one. I read it several times, because the first time I tried to read, the words ran together and blurred because of Lyme. I am now able to read again, and have re-read several books I couldn’t comprehend before. If there’s a diagnosis of ADD or ADHD, suspect Lyme!!  

 

BIGGEST DAILY STRUGGLE:  Praying it never comes back and thanking God for every day which I am granted. Experimenting with different diet plans and keeping healthy. Getting away from white sugar, white flour and other overly processed, easy to fix foods and getting real food into my body is a daily challenge. 

Continuing to learn about and helping others deal with Lyme. I have helped quite a few people NOT give up. I wish I could help everyone or was a millionaire so I could donate money for a cure.  

[dragimal]

Longform Audio Creepypasta Recs

hey TMA fandom! as a new TMA listener but looooongtime creepypasta fan, I find it rly cool that ppl who aren’t into horror are getting into TMA! I’m hoping this will help bring fresh blood (hah) to the horror fandom, so if you’ve realized that you rather like audio horror but don’t know what else to look into, I’m here to recommend my favorite longform creepypasta narrations! 

this is far from an exhaustive list of long creepypastas, but I just want to introduce some of the stories I consider to be the best of the genre. and while I’m just reccing longform in this post, there are plenty of short one-shots I could rec if anyone wants to ask me abt a specific theme/Entity or even a specific ep of TMA (there are several MAG eps that brought me straight back to a specific creepypasta or two, lmao)

also, I’ll just be linking to MrCreepyPasta’s narrations b/c I’m heavily biased so I mostly listen to him, but there are plenty of other great narrators out there like CreepsMcPasta, CreepypastaJr, etc. (most of their names are variations on a theme asdfgh). and if u just want the text version of any of these, every video I link has a link in its own description back to the original text posting of the story

THAT outta the way, here are my recs! I’ll try to remember all the trigger warnings I can, but keep in mind I tend to be p hardy to most horror content, so there may be some things that slip past simply b/c they don’t register to me. also it’s been a minute since I’ve listened to some of these, so some have updated or I may have just forgotten some aspects. I’ll also update this if ppl find it useful and I find more good long pastas~

Penpal (2.5 hrs, complete)

op recounts some of their odd experiences as a child, all of which stem from an elementary school project involving a pen pal. as he recalls these experiences, a horrifying picture of his past begins to emerge...

easily my favorite pasta of all time-- and that’s saying something, considering there are some damn good recs here. it’s one of the first I read so long ago, and few have come close to what this one made me feel. op does an incredible job of capturing the nostalgia and childhood wanderlust of youth, and the last few lines of each chunk of the story hit like a goddamned truck-- esp "Friends”, I cry like a baby every time, it just.... hits something tender in me...

TW: stalking of children, subsequent kidnapping and child abuse at the end (and while it’s not necessarily *confirmed*, heavy implications of child sexual abuse, for that last bit). implied cat death. some graphic description of the victim of a hit-and-run

Search and Rescue Woods (~5 hrs, ongoing?)

op recalls several of the strange and disturbing experiences (their own and quoted from coworkers) of working search-and-rescue for an unnamed national forest in the US

y’know that feeling u get when u see photos lawn chairs just sitting at the bottom of the ocean? even if there’s a perfectly good explanation for why they’re there, it’s still haunting b/c it feels wrong to see them there, in that context? that’s basically this entire assortment of stories-- the obvious example being the stairs, of course, but even a lot of the human elements feel so out of place and wrong. if you’re a fan of Spiral-type horror w/ a hard edge of Stranger, this is the story for u

TW: generally clinical but graphic descriptions of mutilated bodies. use of the r-slur against an nd individual (it’s during a story that the main character is quoting from a different one-off character, so it thankfully only happens the one time..). child death, in certain stories. some wild animal death

Borrasca (2.5 hrs, complete)

Sam moves to a small mountain town with his family after his father’s job relocates them. he hears some spooky legends about the town, but doesn’t think much of them... that is, until his sister disappears. as Sam and his friends dig deeper into the town’s history to find any clues to his sister’s disappearance, they begin to realize there’s something deeply deeply wrong with their quaint little home

I’ve always loved horror that’s ‘mundane’ enough to be done by regular humans, but vague enough that it could actually be supernatural, under the right circumstances-- and this is one of those mysteries that keeps u guessing until the VERY end. my mind felt like that Pepe Silvia corkboard meme the first time I listened to this, I was losin’ it. this is also prolly one of my favorite examples of MCP’s talent as a narrator, b/c he adds in his own subtle foreshadowing with his voicework, and it blows my mind every time I listen to it again

also worth mentioning there’s a (3.5 hr) sequel! since the horror/mystery is basically done after the first one, the sequel is mostly suspense/thriller and character closure. if ur just here for the horror/mystery and the gut-punch of that first ending, then the sequel isn’t necessary. but if you want more closure for our dear sweet cast who deserve so much better, then by all means!

TW: the ending involves heavy sexual abuse (involving underage girls, no less), part of which is graphic. like I know I joke abt having to take breaks after reading emotionally exhausting stories, but I genuinely had to take a couple days of recovery after this one-- and that’s from someone who’s p hardy to all kinds of graphic content. do NOT take this warning lightly if this is a sensitive topic for you

Tales From the Gas Station (10 hrs for free, otherwise ongoing)

Jack works at a gas station at the edge of a middle-of-nowhere town. Strange things happen at the gas station-- bipedal deer stopping by for a drink, dark gods leaving vague messages, fingers growing from the ground out back, sudden lawn gnome appearances-- All just a part of the daily grind, right?

so if I wanna be totally fair, this is more a rec for Night Vale fans than anything (tho the TMA/WTNV overlap seems to be p significant). the comedic, nonchalant tone taken towards everything supernatural and horrific is p much 1:1 WTNV. I’ve genuinely cried laughing at some of the fuckshit that happens, esp anything involving Jerry. not to say that GST doesn’t have its heavy-horror moments, but the frequency is more comparable to Night Vale’s approach-- dark comedy definitely takes center stage, here. tho this also varies by the POV-- the “Finding Vanessa” arcs are told from the perspective of a more serious character, so the heavy parts are far more frequent and hit a lot harder

as for the time estimate, here’s where it gets a littleee bit complicated. the first version was put out for free, and read for free by MCP (among a few other narrators). this came out in several different parts, and the one video I linked above has compiled *most* of volume 1, but not the Halloween story, featured here. HOWEVER, the author has taken a second go at v1 and beyond, which is currently ongoing and available to buy as books or audiobooks ALSO narrated by MCP!

as for deciding which version to listen to, I’ll just try to describe the differences here. the first version was written entirely via Jack’s online forum posts, which were subject to more direct reader interaction and Jack’s scatterbrain. thus, the first version leaves a LOT more details up to reader interpretation/theorizing, straight up doesn’t have or explain certain plot arcs yet, and is very disorganized in terms of timeline all due to Jack’s canon memory issues. this all, personally, made it v fun and silly to follow, but I’m aware that’s not for everyone. the second version is written from a more standard first person narrative from Jack’s perspective. while Jack’s memory issues still make him an unreliable narrator (often *upsettingly* so in this version), the actual narrative is far more organized, complete, and easy to follow. the fun thing is that the first version can still be considered canon material to the second version, as Jack references making those very forum posts within the second version narrative. so, personally, I consider the second version to be the core cohesive story, while the first version is supplemental, fun material that provides more context for a few of the strange bits that happen in the story (like Jack’s ‘secret admirer’ makes more sense if u’ve listened to the first version). either way, the second version is the only way the story is going to continue (as far as I’m aware), so if you’re ONLY going to listen to one version of the story, listen to the second version

TW: for the first version, there are some uncomfortable jokes/implications at certain points-- associating villains/assholes with fatness and/or personality disorders is unfortunately a running theme, and a few off-color jokes are made abt some of Jack’s conditions (general mental health and his brief use of crutches). there’s also a point at which it’s implied that a specific one-off arc is a ploy to rape Jack, tho nothing actually comes of it beyond awkward scheming (but just in case, that story is specifically “Death at the Gas Station” at the very end of that long compilation, if u wanna skip it). for the second version, I believe the author was made aware of these issues and either straight-up removed or fixed most of them in some way. there’s just one point where an intentionally-questionable character uses the g*psy slur, and a few points where a regular commenter on Jack’s forum posts has w*ndigo in their username

in terms of gore for either one, uhhh maybe some descriptions of injuries? body horror? this one’s a lot harder to call for me, b/c the comedy softens the blow on a lot of the horror

Accounts From a Lonely Broadcast Station (5 hrs, ongoing)

Evelyn is the new voice of a small mountain town’s local radio station. her job is to take calls, play music (ALWAYS play the music), and broadcast emergency warnings whenever the fog rolls in from the surrounding forest. pretty standard stuff. she tries to make the most of it-- if only that damn crow with human eyes would stop watching her...

this one’s similar to Gas Station Tales with its heavy reliance on dark humor, but it takes itself a bit more seriously, with a more even split b/t genuine horror and comedy. also MCP brings in wonderful extra voice talent w/ this one, I RLY love Evelyn's va ;w;

TW: graphic descriptions of mutilation and body horror

My Friend Has Been Living in an Alternate Reality (4 hrs, complete)

op’s eccentric friend, Clint, turns up on op’s doorstep unannounced after several years missing. Clint vanishes again just as abruptly, leaving op with a journal detailing a horrifying, dangerous journey that’s almost too bizarre to believe, yet...

so this one’s more like an action/thriller with horror garnish, tbh-- very exciting and suspenseful! I love the weird, apocalyptic world Clint describes in his journals, and the societies that have cropped up around these hostile circumstances

TW: graphic descriptions of mutilation/injury

My Name is Lily Madwhip (~8 hrs, ongoing)

Lily Madwhip sees things before they happen. they’re usually horrible things like deaths and injuries that she wishes she could prevent but often can’t. at least her best friend-- an angel possessing one of Lily’s dolls-- is around to provide advice

this one’s from the perspective of a little girl, and it leans into dark humor enough to soften at least some of the more traumatic moments. Lily’s young enough that she’s somewhat removed from the full gravity of the deaths around her, but the fact that it’s happening so frequently at all seems to be warping her perspective towards death to be more... casual? is that the right word? it’s just a rly interesting perspective to see for horror. also we’ve got another rly great guest va here for Lily~

TW: brief descriptions of injury, but they’re not graphic. frequent animal death.

The Showers (2.75 hrs, complete)

op recounts a scary story he heard from a teacher back in high school about a vague location and a terrifying encounter. he later ventures to find this location to see the truth for himself, but is it worth it?

this one’s a classic-- I think it was of the first creepypasta I listened to? not this version, but I wouldn’t be able to tell u which narrator it was at the time. I won’t say that this one’s the most unique story out there, but something abt it has always stuck with me?.... idk, I think the premise rly hooks me

TW: oh god it’s been a while, but I don’t remember anything particularly triggering? maybe body horror?

[natasha-cole]

#1 Crush: Part 21

Chapter Summary: Reader is still feeling awful about breaking up with Rob. She’s also feeling crazy for suspecting an innocent fan of being the one who is following her. A gift that was left for her ends up not being from Rob, and things are only getting creepier.

Word Count: 2386

Warnings: angst, creepy fan

Notes: I’m trying guys! I’m hoping to update my part of Focus and the next chapter of Perfectly Imperfect soon as well. Writing is not my friend lately.

Series Masterlist

You were sitting in the green room, taking a much needed break from the morning activities. Mainly, you were staring blankly at your phone as yet another restricted phone call popped up on your screen. This had been the fifth one this morning. Your thumb hovered over the ‘end call’ button, wanting to just ignore it, but also strangely curious as to who was calling.

“When are you going to change your phone number?” A voice asked suddenly, breaking you from your daze.

You glanced up to see Rich standing there watching you, his brows furrowed in worry.

You looked back down, noticing that the call had ended, so you quickly locked your phone and placed it face down on the couch.

“What do you mean?” you responded.

“You’re getting phone calls that you don’t want to get,” he pointed out. “Maybe it’s time for a new number.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’ve just noticed that you check your phone a lot. And you always decline most of the calls.”

“Telemarketers,” you chuckled.

“You sure?”

“Okay, look… I might be getting an increase it weird calls lately. It’s usually just someone breathing on the other end when I answer. So I just stop answering.”

“Accidental calls?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Change your number,” he insisted. “You’ll feel better about it.”

“Sounds like a hassle.”

“Okay, change your number, it’s safer that way.”

You didn’t have a chance to argue before he quickly walked away, heading out of the room and leaving you alone again with your thoughts.

He wasn’t wrong. Now that you had someone stalking you to the point of breaking into your own home, you weren’t safe most of the time. You knew that whoever this was had your number. You knew that the silence on the other end when you did answer didn’t mean that no one was there. He had said it himself on Twitter, he had heard your voice over the phone. You understood that now that he had your number, it was unlikely that he would stop calling.

***

Later that afternoon, you were seated at your table, working your way through an autograph line. You were mostly on autopilot by this point; smiling and engaging in small talk without really thinking too much about it.

It wasn’t until a familiar man stepped in front of you, placing a piece of artwork down in your field of vision. You glanced up at him and back to the drawing.

You were instantly uneasy with the way he stared at you. Looking down at the artwork, you also felt as if you had seen work similar to this. Now, you knew you had met him before.

“This is a great drawing,” you said quietly. “I feel like I've probably seen your work before.”

“You don't remember me,” he frowned in return.

“No, I do,” you replied. “I remember your work. I'm just- terrible with recognizing faces I guess.”

“You do meet a lot of people.”

“I do.”

“Every time that I meet you, I'm determined to make you remember me,” he laughed. “I'm just not sure what I have to do to make that happen.”

Your uneasiness started to grow. The man probably meant nothing by it, but the way he said it was unsettling.

“I do remember you,” you reiterated. “I told you that you were very talented the last time we met.”

“And to keep up the good work,” he smiled.

“Yes,” you said, forcing your own smile. “And I see that you have.”

“It has been a while,” he said. “I've seen you at some other events, but I tend to get nervous around you, so I don't approach you.”

“What other events?” You asked.

“Other conventions.”

“You come to a lot of conventions?”

“I do. I don't always get to see you like this though.”

“Ah. Is that it?”

“I saw you at a Louden Swain show once,” he admitted.

“Oh?”

“You were obviously there for… Rob…” he bit out, almost as if it were difficult to say his name. “So I didn't bother you.”

“Well, it’s nice to be able to go to his shows and not be the center of attention,” you chuckled.

“I wish I would’ve said hi at least.”

You realized he was just being friendly, even if it made you uncomfortable. He was obviously one of your bigger fans, and the last thing you ever wanted to do was make your fans feel like you didn’t appreciate them. Truthfully, it had taken time for you to get used to all of this, but you understood the fascination that they had. You had been a fan of things before. Surely you wouldn’t want to be treated as if you didn’t exist by someone that you admired.

You decided it was best to play polite. He, along with others in this long line, was there to see you. Fans were really the one thing that kept your career going.

“You should have. I promise I don’t bite. Not even out in public.”

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time,” he smiled.

You forced a smile, uneasy by the way he referred to there being a next time. Again, you were overreacting. So you tried to force yourself to chill out.

“You don't sing on Saturday nights anymore,” he pointed out.

“No. I don't. I think it was just a- fluke. It only worked out a couple of times.”

“I wish you'd consider singing again sometime. You're so good.”

“Really?”

“I have to admit, hearing you sing #1 Crush was probably the highlight of any con I've ever been to.”

“Oh?”

“Your version it better than the original,” he smiled. “But maybe I'm just playing favorites.”

You thanked the man, ready for him to just move along, especially after he had mentioned that song. He had been standing there for some time, making you uncomfortable even if that wasn’t his intention.

He nodded politely at you and walked away. You took a moment to gather yourself as the next fan stepped in front of you.

You hated that this entire experience had done this to you. The knowledge that this creep was still out there not only made you feel unsafe and violated all the time, but it was also interfering with your interactions with regular fans and even with the people closest to you in your personal life.

You spent the remainder of your autograph session in a daze, not really paying too much attention to the people who were there to meet you and mostly now thinking about Rob.

***

Almost immediately after your autographs, you were kept busy by a full afternoon. You did your panel with some of the other ladies, forced yourself to get through photo ops, and were now finding yourself in a small room with a handful of fans for a meet and greet.

For the first time during all of this, you were kicking yourself over having argued with Rob back when he insisted that you make yourself less available to fans during conventions. Back then, you were intent on keeping your busy schedule and not letting fans down. Today, you wished you could disappear.

Still, you put on a smile and joined the group at a round table set up in the middle of the room.

You glanced around at the attendees, nodding and saying hi as they greeted you. You paused when you recognized the man from autographs. You didn’t know why, but his presence seemed to make you uncomfortable, but you knew you had to ignore the feeling and just go on with the meet and greet.

You introduced yourself and made a point of going around the table for everyone else to introduce themselves as well. It was something you always did at these things. You were terrible at recognizing people, so it was always an effort to try to remember familiars that you saw often. Not that you’d remember their names right away, but you at least wanted to look as if you cared.

This time though, you made a point of trying to remember this particular man’s name. You had seen him a few times, at least recognized his face and the fact that he always brought artwork for you to sign. The simple fact that he made you so uneasy was why you wanted to know who he was.

Given the current situation, your stalker could be anyone. You had been driving yourself crazy thinking about the possibility that you knew the person and that they seemed to be around you often without you even knowing. Since this man gave you eerie vibes anyway, you might have had a passing thought that it could perhaps be him.

You felt awful over the fact that you were even thinking about all of this. He was just a fan that you saw often. Everyone else had their ‘regular’ fans. Hell, many of your coworkers had fans that they knew by name and recognized easily because they saw them so often.

At this point, you were taking cues from your worried ex boyfriend. Maybe you shouldn’t suspect everyone, but perhaps it was safer to for now.

You engaged in casual conversation with the group, surprised that the man who seemed to stand out to you the most this weekend just asked basic, usual questions that any other fan would ask. Maybe you really were crazy because of all of this.

When your time ended, you tried not to make it obvious that you were over it and ready to get out of there. You smiled in the selfies with each of the meet and greet winners, thanked them, and made your way out of the room. At least Saturday was almost over and you could go back to your room for the rest of the night.

***

By the end of the day, you were exhausted. Mostly it was from being so on edge and anxious, but you were ready to call it a day and go back to the quiet of your hotel room.

You walked back to the green room with your handler close by, fishing your phone out of your pocket as you felt it vibrate. Another restricted call. You sighed and ignored it and put the phone away. At this point, you were ready to just throw the phone in the trash.

When you stepped into the room, you immediately went to start gathering your things when another handler got your attention.

“Hey, Y/N,” she called out to you. “This was left for you.”

You felt your blood run cold as she said it. You were tired of hearing those words.

She pointed to the table where you half expected to see another ridiculous flower arrangement, but this time, there was just a small box with a note attached to it.

Immediately, your stomach turned and you got angry. You understood that with the constant changes in the crew for each con weekend, and the fact that you were without a bodyguard, your demands might get lost in the mix. You had been clear about not wanting to see gifts of any sort, but apparently they would slip through occasionally.

Rather than reprimand her for something that she most likely hadn’t even been told about, you decided not to cause a scene. Mostly, you were sort of curious as to what the gift was. You had a pretty good idea of who it was from, but you had never received something like this before. Your stalker had stuck to flowers and notes, so you sort of really wanted to know what was in the box.

You thought that maybe you were overreacting as you hesitantly picked the package up. Considering the fact that your stalker never actually sent you packages, this probably wasn’t even from him.

It was most likely a gift from Rob. He had taken your breakup really hard and you assumed that he was just doing what he could to get you back. For just a brief moment, you smiled to yourself. Regardless of everything, you loved that man more than anything. It was cliche to say, but this breakup had been harder on you.

You carefully opened the card that was attached to the box, thinking that you would see an apology or something scrawled in Rob’s handwriting. Of course, you wouldn’t be that lucky though.

You were slightly surprised when you did read the message. First of all, it was definitely not Rob’s handwriting. Having realized that, once the contents of the note registered, you got upset. You had been so used to finding lyrics from #1 Crush scrawled inside these notes, that you were honestly expecting it again right now. It would have been less threatening in a way if it had been lyrics from that song in this moment.

‘Is it cool if I come over?’

That was it. That was all the note said. You were baffled. You thought of Rob again. That was a line from one of his songs, the one song that he admitted that he had written about you long before the two of you were even close to being a couple.

Still, it wasn’t Rob’s handwriting, and by now, he understood that it was a mistake to send you gifts like this, especially if he was attempting to win you back somehow.

Now you had to know what this gift was. It was clear that it wasn’t from Rob. You understood that this was another gift from the man who was stalking you. Even if you were afraid, you were still curious.

You hesitantly unwrapped the box, taking your time since you really weren’t sure if you wanted to see what was inside. At this point, this guy could only get creepier.

As soon as you had it opened, it took a moment to let the contents of the box register in your head. It couldn’t be. How could this be happening? You covered your mouth with your hand, letting out an uncontrollable sob once you realized what it was. There it was; the necklace that Rob had given you that inexplicably disappeared from your home just weeks ago.

***

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[silaslibraryclub]

Prompt Response #7

Pining!Carm and Oblivious!Laura are friends who are donating at a blood drive - delivered by @jg-firefly

The first year that Silas Inc. had hosted their annual blood drive, there had been approximately three donors, all of whom had been instrumental in organizing the thing in the first place. The goody-goody type, the sort that believed in charity for the sake of doing good, they had set up the damned thing again every year that followed, with an extra dose of guilt-tripping at each subsequent event.

When this had still not turned out quality results, they had resorted to a far more tried-and-true method.

Bribery.

Which was how the whole of Silas Inc., from designers to programmers to accountants, were bundled in sweaters and scarves, hands shoved deep in their pockets, in the parking lot on a blistery Tuesday morning.

An hour off of work had been a lot to promise, but it had certainly done the trick, once Perry had sorted out the paperwork and pushed the issue up the HR ladder. There was a camera crew from some nobody local station, a collection of balloons, and an assortment of food trucks. The whole thing was practically a fall carnival, if they just threw in a few rides, and it was nearly enough to make Carmilla turn on her heel and stride back inside.

If it weren’t for the veritable ray of sunshine working her way through the crowd, she might well have.

“They had pumpkin and apple, and I didn’t know which you’d like, so I got both,” Laura said, beaming. There was whipped cream on her lips, no doubt from the sugary coffee drink she had tucked awkwardly in her elbow, and it took a very real effort not to reach out and thumb it away.

She focused her attention on the proffered pastry, plucking one from Laura’s grasp with a shrug.

“Either is fine, cutie.”

The nickname, even after years of use, still managed to tug a blush up into Laura’s cheeks. It was a sight that Carmilla could not imagine growing tired of, but one that pained her all the same.

Laura had hated all of Carmilla’s pet names, when they had first met. Every time they met—sometimes there were days in between, but more often weeks, and, once, months—she would insist that she was not a confectionary and that she deserved to have her real name used like any other coworker.

It was not until they were put on the same team, Laura the lead writer to her head of graphic design, that Carmilla actually backed off, and she had never meant for the names to come back. Laura had made her lack of interest quite clear, between her righteous indignation and her multitude of serious relationships, and Carmilla was hardly the type to waste her time where it was not welcome… but somehow they had become friends, and the names had crept back onto her tongue, and Laura had smiled and rolled her eyes as though this was an amusing inconvenience rather than a cardinal sin.

So, she kept using them.

“I can’t believe we actually got you out here, y’know,” said Laura. She has settled onto the steps, and Carmilla slid down beside her with a great, shivering awareness of the closeness in their shoulders.

“Mm. Does that mean you lost the betting pool?”

Laura’s eyes blew wide. “Wait, you know about that?”

“Accountants don’t know the meaning of subtlety, cupcake,” she offered dryly. Careful of the scattering crumbs, she peeled a bit of the crust off of her turnover and tossed it into her mouth. “They’ve been doing this every year. They’ve got one for whether or not I’ll join the Secret Santa exchange, too.”

This seemed to momentarily stun Laura, whose mouth opened and closed in a charming impression of a goldfish before she stuttered out, “Well, you’ve lost me a lot of money, just so you know.”

Carmilla, eyes widening in startled wonder, was spared the need to form words by the call of “Laura Hollis!” from across the lot.

“Oh, that’s me!” Laura cried, bouncing to her feet. She hesitated a moment, the uncertain shift of her toes on the pavement drawing a stutter into Carmilla’s pulse, but a moment later she merely thrust her half-eaten pastry forward and shattered any ill-advised hope. “I don’t think I can take this… could you hold it, Carm?”

She nodded—still lacking the capability to speak—and nearly caved in on herself when Laura’s fingers brushed against her own in the exchange of napkin-wrapped sweets.

Laura noticed none of this, giving a dorky little salute before she dashed off.

She was entirely too good for Carmilla, and Carmilla knew it, but every now and again she said something, did something, that challenged all of the foundations of reality. She would nudge an elbow into Carmilla’s side when she wanted to share something funny, or tilt her head just so when she was about to ask if everything was okay. She would send a text whenever she saw something that reminded her of Carmilla, or recommend a song that she thought Carmilla would enjoy, and every now and again she would look at her with a warmth that Carmilla had no way to explain.

And every time she found a new girlfriend, there was a piece of Carmilla that fractured.

There had been approximately two months between Laura starting at Silas and the start of her year-long relationship with an obnoxiously nerdy women’s rugby player. After that (messy) break-up, she had spent six weeks moping before she showed up at the office in a ridiculously chipper mood for a Monday, babbling nonstop about the perfect girl that had bought her coffee. That had lasted seven months, before Laura had broken it off, and she had spent three months going on dates before a one-night-stand turned into yet another year’s worth of flowers and drop-ins and joint photo-ops. That had ended, at long last, only because of her feelings for Danny, and it had been over a year and a half before that, too, fizzled out.

She had been single, now, going on five months. It was the longest Carmilla had seen her without a girl’s photo on her phone lock screen, without their work lunches interrupted by giggly visits, without her tossing in ‘oh let me see if insert-girlfriend’s-name can come, too!’ whenever the staff was planning an outing.

Carmilla would by lying, if she said she had not been waiting for the moment when it would start all over again. There was always another beautiful girl waiting in the wings, another girl with a supportive family and a real education and an encyclopedia of knowledge on all Laura’s favorite television shows.

Eventually, as much as the idea made her stomach churn, she’d meet the right girl—the girl that she would never break up with. The girl she would marry.

She’d probably invite Carmilla to the wedding.

It was with this rather nauseating thought in mind that Carmilla stood to follow the call of her name onto the donation bus, and she only managed to dull the ache with the image of Laura’s beaming face that was waiting for her.

“Carm! Look!” she declared, holding her arm up halfway in apparent pride at the thick, red tube that was sticking out of her elbow.

Carmilla grimaced, which apparently only served to amuse Laura. The nurse was less thrilled. She shoved a clipboard into Carmilla’s arms, directed her onto a cracked plastic bench, and then set about attending to one of the interns (who was looking pale with a full bag of blood hanging out of him.)

“You look nervous.”

Her pencil pausing halfway through her personal information, Carmilla raised her gaze to find Laura craning to see her. It was not a pose that looked particularly comfortable, but it did nothing to affect her temperament. Her eyes sparkled just the same as ever.

“I’m not nervous,” Carmilla scoffed. She returned to the papers, scowling as she took in just how many pages were involved. What did it take to give blood, a doctorate in medical science?

“You haven’t done this before, have you?”

How she always seemed to know these things, Carmilla would never understand.

“No. But it seems fairly straight-forward.” She tapped the clipboard, “Step one, fill out ridiculous permission slips,” she pointed to Laura’s arm, “Step two, part with half my blood supply. For free, apparently.”

“There’s a t-shirt.”

“Peachy.”

She turned back to the paperwork.

“Why do they care if I’ve been to England?”

“Mad cow disease,” Laura offered knowledgably.

“All of this seems unnecessary.”

Laura’s expression turned into a pout. “I swear, you better not give up on this over the paperwork. At least let it be over the needle, if you’re going to cost me my fifty bucks.”

There she was again, casually believing Carmilla was capable of more. Casually betting on her doing good.

The nurse stepped between them, surveying Carmilla’s answers and setting them aside, and then she found herself offering a finger to be stuck for what was apparently an iron deficiency test (something Carmilla could not help but think should have happened prior to the invasive questioning) and by the time she was settled onto the crinkly paper of a donating couch, Laura was being bandaged up.

Timing always had been a bitch.

“Can I get some cookies?” Laura asked, though, the moment the nurse had finished strapping a bright green ‘X’ around her elbow. She tested the flexibility, tapping her index finger on the crux in a way that Carmilla was certain the nurse would not advise.

[gingerstorm101]

A Little Too Late

Summary: Years after the death of Ziva, a case comes up where Tony finds that she was keeping a secret from him.

AOL

FF.net

The pop music rings loudly in her car as she speeds around the corner, making a quick stop at the targeted house comes into sight. Spotting her brother's car parked in the driveway to the house, she pulls in behind him, hastily turns off the engine, and jumps out of the car. Running over an hour late she is surprised he hadn't called her.

Walking around the back of the semi, she slips into the back door. "Steve!" She calls. "Sorry I'm late, there was an accident off of Main, many people are late for work because of it. You wouldn't believe the number of emergency vehicles across the northbound, even part of the southbound was blocked!" Ashley continues, walking through the house. "Hello? Steve?" Stepping into the living room, she freezes, her hands shaking as they raise to her mouth. Less than a moment passes before she lets out a high-pitched scream. On the floor before her lays a man, her brother, with a single gunshot through his head.

***

Tony was becoming more and more like him every day. He didn't mean to, it just… Happened. He walks into the squad room with a coffee in his right hand and a folder in his left. Tossing the folder onto the desk across from him, he addresses his newest agent. "Do it again, O'Riley." He didn't see the jaw drop on the young man, instead taking a swig of his drink and turned towards his desk, sitting down to check his emails.

O'Riley looks over to McGee, the file in his hand. "Again?"

"Don't take it too hard, Josh. Everyone has to rewrite their case report at least twice." The senior field agent reassures the young man.

Tony laughs. "Don't lie to the boy, Timmy." He catches his friend's eye, "You never had to rewrite yours." O'Riley visibly deflates before him.

McGee smirks. "But you had to rewrite yours three times, ain't that right, boss?" Tony stiffens and glares at him. Out of the corner of his eye, the newest agent sighs in relief.

On the other side of the bullpen, Agent Johnson smiles, her hand folded in front of her. "Don't worry Josh, I also had to redo mine."

O'Riley opens his mouth to reply but is cut off by the phone on Tony's desk ringing.

"DiNozzo," McGee looks over to his boss, taking in the signs and putting things away. "Yeah, got it." Hanging up, he grabs his coffee and his bag. "Grab your gear."

McGee was the first one to leave his desk, closely followed by Johnson and last, O'Riley running after the team and into the elevator.

***

Tony walks into the living room of the semi, his mind elsewhere as he takes in the pictures of a man with his parents and sister, and even a few with his friends. The pictures reminding him of a certain Israeli woman, and the photos she had on display at her apartment before she packed it all up and left it behind. His heart still hurts from that day she told him she was going back to her birthplace, and still broken from the day he had left her behind there, all those years ago.

A flash from the camera brings Tony back to the present moment, blinking away the blindness. "Sorry Boss," the young agent apologies, lowering the camera. "I thought you saw m- I should have waited."

"Careful O'Riley, you've been an agent for two months now, you should know to keep an eye all around, and not just what's in front of you. Got it?" He nods, shifting on his feet before returning to the crime scene.

Tony looks around the scene, watching McGee dust for prints along the door. "Got anything, Tim?" He says quietly, his voice just above a whisper, crouching down to a level with his Senior Field Agent.

McGee hummed, taking a picture. "Just one." Taking the crime scene kit to dust around the evidence he has found. "Just this bloody print. Looks like there was a child involved, considering the size." He says, finding nothing to go along with the first print. "But other than this, it looks like a clean job, I don't see a single print anywhere near this door besides the bloody one."

"If there was a child involved, it wouldn't be one from this household, the guy has pictures of everyone except a child. Doesn't even look like he's married." He looks over at his longest coworker, both giving each other a confused look. "You positive that this is a child's fingerprint, McGoo?"

Rolling his eyes, the man answers. "I'm positive Tony, this finger is too small to be a woman's print. It has to be a child." McGee pulls out a swab to sample the blood on the doorframe. "And from the lack of prints. I'm determined that this might just be a professional hit." Tony didn't need to say anymore, knowing that the other man would dust for prints all over the house.

Tony looks around the room, particularly the floor. Something was missing. "McGee," The man looks up in question. "Did you already collect the shell?"

He shakes his head, lowering the brush. "There wasn't any, Tony, the guy must have policed his brass."

Tony nods, agreeing with his earlier assessment. "Johnson!" He calls for his final agent, who walks into the room with Palmer right behind her. The Medical Examiner gets straight to work by himself, getting assistance from Josh.

"Yes, boss?"

He steps over to the woman, out of McGee's way. "What did the witness have to say?"

Sandra clears her throat, flipping open her notebook. "Ashley Morgan, sister to our victim, Stephen Morgan, was supposed to have breakfast together, last heard from him when she had left her house at 7:30 this morning, through texting, got stuck in traffic and was over an hour late. At 9:30, she came through the backdoor to find him dead in the living room."

He nods to his agent before calling over to Palmer. "Jimmy, when did this guy die?"

"Uh," The medical examiner hesitates. "Death between two and three hours ago." Between seven and eight this morning.

"It matches up with the witness' statement, she last talked to her brother at 7:30, Palmer, must have been shortly after that." Making quick notes, Tony orders Sandra to help McGee to dust the house. Tony wanders around the small house checking for anything that might be out of place. It didn't take long before he stopped in front of O'Riley. "Josh, what seems odd about this situation?"

The young man looks around the room, taking notice of the furniture. "The house is clean?"

"Well, besides that, O'Riley."

"It doesn't look like there was a struggle."

"I can second that." Palmer jumps in.

Tony nods to the two. "Exactly. In what world would a man who has a gun pointed at him, not struggle to get away?"

"Well, actually boss, there are many-"

"That was a rhetorical question O'Riley, keep up!" He knew the boy was still getting used to how he handled the team, but being part of a co-op group with a different team didn't get him much in learning how Anthony DiNozzo lead his team. He would be lost if Gibbs hadn't retired. "You don't just let a stranger into your house, especially if they are armed, and not struggle. That could only mean one thing…" He leaves the end of his statement open for his probie. After a moment the boy was still silent. He jesters to Josh, hoping to give him a clue.

"Oh!" O'Riley straightens his back. "He knew his attacker!" It will take time, but the boy was growing into a decent investigator. Tony pinched the bridge of his nose, he had a lot of work to do with this Probie.

***

With his third cup of coffee in his hand, Tony walks into the squad room to see his team hard at work. This is what he likes to see, and what he guesses what Gibbs liked to see before he retired all those years ago. But it was coming onto lunchtime, and the team should have enough information on the victim. "What do you got?" He asks before taking a sip.

Around the bullpen, the team quickly gets to their feet, and the plasma screen switches on, McGee grabs the clicker, standing in the lineup beside their boss.

They start.

"Sergeant Stephen Morgan, age 27, lives with a roommate, Carl Romone, currently serving in Afghanistan and won't be back for another five months. Other than Carl, Stephen is single and lives alone."

"His only family is his younger sister, Ashley, who found him this morning after a brief conversation with him only minutes before his death. Both of his parents died in a car crash when he was 18, he stepped up and took care of his sister."

"Stephen lives off of his military salary as all the money they would have inherited went towards their mother's gambling debt."

Tony scans over the evidence in front of him, pondering. "Anything on the bloody print we found?"

O'Riley hit the clicker, pulling up the print with a question mark photo beside it. He hid his smirk. "We are still waiting on the results from Abby."

***

The ding of the bell indicates to him, he was in the basement, armed with a Caf-Pow, he and McGee walk into the Forensic lab. He walks to the beat of the music, his senior agent bobbing his head. "New music, Abs?" He asks the woman in the lab coat.

Abby spins around in her spot, her skirt flaring up as she twirled. "Uh, huh! It's my friends' band, Franken Matter!" She says loudly, probably going deaf after years of concerts.

"Franken-"

"-Matter?" The two men question, glancing over at one another, brows arching.

"Yah-huh!" The woman continues to talk to McGee about the twins.

Tony takes a pace around the room, watching as the machines worked on their assigned duties as the two catch up. The room has changed little in the last twenty-five years, but the upgraded equipment fawns over and treats like her children. Something that the woman never had, and will probably stay that way. Out of all the members of the team, McGee and Palmer were the only ones to really settle down and have a family. Maybe it was his biggest regret, but that ship sailed when the love of his life passed away in a house fire.

He blinks twice, focusing his mind back on the present. "Do you got anything, Abby?"

She twirls around, her gaze landing on him. "There wasn't much evidence to work on, as you guys said, the house was rather tidy for a murder to take place. The only fingerprints I got were from the victim, his sister, and our mystery child, so I'm just waiting on that. The blood is an ‘A' Positive, doesn't match Stephen Morgan or his sister."

"Did Jimmy retrieve the bullet?"

"Yes," Abby faces her computer screen, pulling up the squished bullet fragment. "But we have little to work with, if we had the shell case, I could have gotten more from it."

"But we don't..." He says with a frown.

"But we don't." She repeats. The room goes quiet for a minute before Tony hears the beeping of Abby's computer. He glances over to see ‘100% Match' written across the screen. With a couple of clicks of the keyboard, she comments. "This isn't right."

Realization dawned on him when he looks up at the screen. It couldn't possibly be correct, the person on the screen couldn't possibly exist.

Before him was a picture of a little girl with dark brown curly locks and emerald green eyes. Her name none other than Talia A. David.

[reshuffleadventures]

3/14/22 - The Narrows and Pickleball

3/14/22

I had to be at work at 8 AM. I was looking forward to meeting some of the newly hired staff members, and I was hoping to make some new friends. This was the first day for the new hires at ZAC (Zion Adventure Company). Even though I’d been working for two weeks at this point, ZAC had arranged for the other new hires to start on March 14th. And, ZAC had arranged for this first day to be a get-to-know-you’re-coworkers kind of thing. We were introduced to all the managers (I’d met them all already), and then passed on to Cody, one of the guides. Cody talked to us about the plan for the day, which included hiking The Narrows, a section of Zion Canyon where the Virgin River flows through the deep canyon, with canyon walls towering hundreds of feet above. Cody handed out drysuits to everyone, and we all got outfitted with canyoneering boots and neoprene socks. 

We hopped into a van, and we were dropped off at the Temple of Sinawava, the end of the road in Zion Canyon. We hiked from there along the Virgin River until the trail ended. At that point, we zipped up our drysuits and began hiking through the knee-deep water, up the Virgin River. The Narrows section is a hike that goes up the river. We hiked up the Virgin River a ways. The canyon walls are so high, that there was no direct sunlight for most of the canyon. There were a couple spots around noon when the sunlight actually made it to the bottom of the canyon. In one of those spots, we stopped for a lunch break. After lunch, we continued hiking upriver until we reached the confluence of the Orderville Canyon. At that point, we turned around and started hiking downriver, towards the trailhead. Cody showed us how we could fill out drysuits with air and float downriver, using our suits as flotation! I felt like a little kid! I filled up my drysuit with air, and as I lowered myself into the water, my arms and chest puffed up like a marshmallow! I floated down as many sections as I could, only hiking whenever it was absolutely necessary. As I floated, I looked up at the canyon walls, natural skyscrapers, that stood so high above the river. I gazed at the red rock sandstone walls that lined the canyon as I laid on my back, gently drifting down the Virgin River. At one point, Cody encouraged us to try a bouldering problem - he asked us to try to climb up a boulder that was positioned in the center of the river, a tiny rock island. We all climbed on top of the rock; it was a fun and silly challenge, and made for a great photo op! When we finished floating/hiking back to the Temple of Sinawava, our van was waiting to shuttle us back to ZAC.

Back at ZAC, Cody invited me to come play pickleball with him, and in the spirit of yes-men, I complied. I invited Matt and Sophie to join me. I met Cody and Jon (Lisol’s husband) at the park, and Matt and Sophie showed up just a few minutes later. The five of us played pickleball for a long while. I played one-on-one with Cody and Jon and Sophie, then we played two-on-one, me and Matt versus Cody, then me and Cody versus Jon. I lost every single game, but I had so much fun!

Afterwards, I came home and cooked some dinner and hung out with Matt and Sophie.

I’m grateful to Cody for showing us new hires a good time in The Narrows. I’m grateful for the opportunity to act like a kid and be silly and playful puddle-stomping and marshmallow-floating my way through such a majestic national park. I’m grateful to the other new hires who I’m beginning to bond with. I’m grateful to Cody for thinking of me and inviting me to pickleball. I’m grateful to Matt and Sophie for being such friendly and inclusive housemates and friends.

[worldoftherandom]

Power Morphicon 2018

Now that I’ve had time to rest and recover somewhat from both the con and the trip back, I’m guessing I should just post my ramblings and thoughts.

Fiance and I drove down a day before the con started, mainly so we could unwind after the drive and just relax. The drive down wasn’t too bad, left at around 3 am so to avoid traffic and make it easier on the fiance when he took over driving duties (he gets nervous when there’s lots of drivers on the road) and ended up getting to the hotel super early so they didn’t have any rooms ready yet so we just waited around for a bit, resting until they were finished.

Went to the Pirate’s Dinner Adventure since it happened to be pretty close by and had a blast. The food was good and the show was a lot of fun.

The next day was the start of PMC and was a pretty big mess. From what I heard, 2 big things really derailed the start of the con. First off, the fire marshal and Scott (the guy who runs PMC) got into it because Scott wanted to start letting the Platinum members in but there was still some equipment being set up so the fire marshal vetoed that. The second was that the system they were using to check people in crashed and they were unable to bring it back up, forcing like 4/5 people to check in everyone in by hand. I kept finding myself telling first time PMC goers that it has never been that bad in previous years, maybe so they wouldn’t be turned off attending next time if they thought this was the norm because I think pretty much every Power Ranger fan should attend this convention at least once.

After finally getting our passes, fiance and I went to get something to eat since by that point we had been standing in line for hours so we went to a Sbarro’s (neither of us had eaten at one in years!) where we ran into Jordi Webber! Told him it was awesome to run into him and that I had a surprise for Peter when I would meet him during their signing the next day.

We went back to the con to wander around and I ended where the Dino Charge cast was set up: Brennan, Davi, and Claire. Camille was supposed to come but she never showed up :(. It was there that Brennan told me that Ryan Carter, Heckyl’s actor was planning on dropping in the next day and that they had told him about me (that I cosplay as his character). I was ecstatic and my fiance teased me a bit about how I was practically bouncing off the walls. I also grabbed autographs for my coworker and her son, but was unable to get JDF for any of us because the line for him the next day was too damn long!

Day two, I went around getting autographs and pictures from Linkara and Kelson Henderson and kept running into a kid that was also dressed as Heckyl. Funny enough, while I was going as evil Heckyl he went with the good version. 

But the highlight for me was meeting Ryan Carter! I had been wandering past where the DC cast was set up, since they didn’t know when he would show up when I was tapped on the shoulder. I turned around and there he was! I immediately hugged him and hurt myself a bit when my goggles jammed into my chest XD. Ryan was excited to meet me too and told me that Davi had given him some of the temporary tattoos I had made up of Heckyl’s mark. I ramble-talked at him for about 10-20 minutes before remembering to get a picture for him and I had Ryan record a message saying “hi” to @bookmawkish. 

The panel for Ninja Steel was fun, Kelson joined the panel about 10 mins into it and we got bloopers, a trailer for the anniversary episode and of course, the reveal of the cast of Beast Morphers.

The signing for Ninja Steel was a mess, I think that they were letting people chat for far too long which held up the line. I was almost to the front when Peter had to leave and then they cut the line off right in front of me. At least I was able to get a poster that had all the Ranger’s signatures on it. 

I then went to the panel for the Shattered Grid live read and saw that Peter was there. The event itself was a lot of fun: many people reprising their characters by providing voices like Rita or Zordon (who actually had the effect done to his voice), and people filling for characters like Jason Faunt voicing Tommy. When the panel was over, I rushed to the front to get Peter’s attention, I knew I got it when his face lit up since I was dressed as his character. He was delighted to see me, especially when I showed him that I even made the bracelet his character wears that only showed up in a brief scene in one episode XD and I was able to get that picture after all! (that’s a puppet sea serpent standing in for a dragon because blue dragons are impossible to find!)

I ended up attending the prom and had a bit of fun, made friends with this nice couple and ended taking pictures with them in the photo booth. Not too sure how long I stuck around for (maybe an hour?) before JDF showed up to greet everyone before he had to fly out that night. Not long after that, I decided to call it a night.

Day three, attended the Ranger breakfast and Brennan ended up at the same table as me and a friend. Got a pic of Merrick and Princess Shayla’s actors and a selfie with TJ’s actor too.

Ran into kid!Heckyl again and we both took a picture with Ryan together before heading off to the Dino Charge panel, I also gifted Ryan a box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch cereal because of an in joke that his character is addicted to cinnamon. Had to duck out of the panel early to go to the RJ Cyler photo op and after that I decided to get it signed too, and was in line for so long I ended up missing the Beyond the Grid panel where it was announced that the Dark Ranger was indeed Heckyl, which a lot of people had predicted, and I had a minor freak out while standing in line. Ryan ended up walking pass not long after this news broke on Twitter and I also had him sign my own box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch XD.

Ended up wandering around a bit more before running into Jacob Brode aka Database Ranger and we found his wife and I gave them hugs since I hadn’t seen him since the last PMC and her the one before that. 

Eventually went back to the hotel and packed up my bag, fiance had already taken care of everything else, and we started the drive home. Along the way, ran into some serious construction that delayed us by about 2 hours and an hour before we got home, I had to switch driving duties because I could barely keep my eyes open anymore. 

It’s always fun to attend Power Morphicon and I’m looking forward to the next one in 2020... I better start saving up now! XD

[h-styles-babes]

No Control | Chapter Forty

Summary: 

Micky Bennett: college student, loyal friend, aspiring nurse, One Direction fan, Harry Styles enthusiast. Her best friend, Trevor, wins tickets to a show in New Jersey with meet and greet passes. Micky expects a quick photo op with the boys and a great night at the concert with her best friend. What she gets a whole lot more than she bargained for.

To read previous chapters, you can go here.

*Please feel free to reblog and send feedback. It’s much appreciated :)*

*Gif is not mine.*

Forty

“Mick, sit down. You shouldn’t be up so much,” Mum reprimands.

I roll my eyes as I plop down at the kitchen table, huffing so she knows I’m frustrated with her coddling. She smiles as she sees me sitting, going about making the tea, which I was doing before she made shooed me out of the kitchen.

“Do you like sugar in your tea, dear?” Anne asks, taking the tray from my mum. 

Harry rounds the corner into the kitchen just as his mum asks, hair wet from his shower. He places a kiss on her cheek before saying, “One sugar and a dash of milk.” He takes a plain cup of tea from the tray before flitting over to where my mum is making pancakes on the stove. He places a kiss on her cheek as well before pulling plates out of the cabinet.

I’m a little antsy from not being able to do much to contribute. Anne and Mum have been here for two days now, helping me out when Harry’s gone out to meetings and whatever else he’s doing. It’s the beginning of April, and while I know I’ll be good to deliver Waverly any time in the coming weeks, I still get a little panicky when I feel any sort of pain or discomfort that I know can be associated with my pregnancy. It’s really just a matter of time before I go into labour, but now that it’s such a real possibility, I’m getting nervous. 

“Got some errands to run today,” Harry tells me as he sets a plate of food in front of me. “Gonna go into Beverly Hills for a few hours. Then I’ve got a meeting with some studio execs, but that shouldn’t take too long.”

“Am I gonna find out where you’ve been sneaking off to, yet?” I ask, pouting at him. He still hasn’t told me about what this new, top secret project is that he’s been working on, but I’m trying to be patient.

“Yes, actually,” he answers, completely surprising me. Our mums are talking in the kitchen, so they’re not privy to this conversation, so I can’t gauge if he’s already told his mum or not, but I’m glad I’m finally going to be able to learn about what’s been going on. I hate being left out, even if I know he’s had to leave me out for legal reasons. “After this meeting, everything should be set in stone.”

“Seriously?” I ask, excited at the prospect. “You better tell me the instant you step into this house after the meeting, Styles.”

He chuckles and leans over to press a quick kiss to my lips. “Promise. Got a few things to talk to you about, so maybe we can get dinner tonight and spend some time together. Know you hate being holed up in the house and your flat all day. Might be one of the last chances we get before Waverly gets here.”

I nod. “Definitely. Dinner would be nice.”

“Wear a dress, yeah? Liked you in that one you wore to Trev’s party.” He winks at me and drops a chaste kiss to my shoulder.

“I’ll see what I can dig up,” I promise. 

After finishing breakfast, Harry kisses me soundly on the lips and gives a rub to the belly before departing. He says goodbye to our mothers and bids us all a good day before taking off. 

Mum and Anne clean up the kitchen as I go to have a shower. Trev’s coming by in a little bit, since he wants to go to the beach. It’s one of the last days of his Spring Break, and I promised him we’d spend time together while we still can. My living arrangements and basically my entire life for after Waverly is born is up in the air still, so I’m trying to fit in as much Trevor and Micky time as I can before everything gets crazy. I don’t know where my life will take me in the coming weeks, and I don’t want to neglect my best friend in the meantime. 

Mum plaits my hair as a way to help me get ready, and once she’s done, I go to the room Harry and I share to change into my swimsuit. It’s a pretty burnt orange color, and a two piece that I’m actually not hesitant to wear. Despite being nearly full-term with my pregnancy, I think I still look good, Harry’s encouragement and love over the past few weeks definitely boosting my self-image. I throw a pretty, white lace coverup over it, tying it closed in the front, and slip on some sandals. 

By the time I’ve put together a bag and grabbed the things I need, I hear the chime go through the house, indicating that someone’s just pulled through the gate. Trev’s in the foyer by the time I make it out into the main part of the house, dressed in a soft-looking t-shirt and bright pink board shorts. He’s already tan from our time in California, so the shorts look blinding against his sun kissed skin. He smiles when he sees me, kissing me on the cheek in greeting. 

With some goodbyes and kisses from both my mum and Anne, Trev and I are out the door, in the Impala, and on our way to the beach.

After a long day at the beach, all I want to do is shower and curl up in bed, but I promised Harry I’d go to dinner with him, which I’m also looking forward to. We haven’t had time for just the two of us since the day of my appointment, and I’m a little antsy to see him. Plus, he’s promised to tell me all that’s going on with his career, since he’s been keeping it all very hush up until this point. I’m excited to finally find out what all his meetings and flying back and forth have been about these past couple months. 

So, after Trev drops me off back at Harry’s—and sticks around to get acquainted with Anne and catch up with my mum—, I take a quick shower and get ready for our night together. I pick out a pretty floral dress that accommodates the bump and pair it with comfy sandals. I’m in no condition to be wearing heels anymore, which I’m not too sorry about. I do my makeup, keeping it minimal since it’s shaped up to be a particularly hot springtime here in Southern California, and emerge to ask my mum to fix up my hair again. She obliges and plaits the front, pulling to back into the bun she secures at the base of my neck. It’s cute and effortless and keeps my mass of hair off my neck and shoulders.

Harry arrives home as we’re all discussing what I want for my baby shower. I’m explaining that some of my coworkers would really like to be involved when he presses a kiss to all our heads and pats his hand on Trev’s shoulder in greeting. “Gonna shower right quick and then be down, alright?” he tells me. I nod at him with a small smile before he disappears into our room.

I give mum Joy’s phone number so they can get in touch. She wants to have the baby shower by next weekend, which I think is a bit ambitious, but both her and Anne assure that it can and will be done. Trevor points out that I don’t have a whole lot of people to accommodate for, since I’m only friends with a grip of people at work, and my family is still back in England. I suppose he’s right, so we can’t be having to provide space for more than fifteen or twenty people. 

I’ve just finished putting together a tentative guest list by the time Harry emerges, freshly showered, though his curls are dry and bouncy, so I assume he’s blow dried them. He’s dressed in a pretty blue sheer button up, the first few buttons undone, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He’s got his signature black jeans tugged on, brown boots slipped on his feet. He looks delicious, and I’m cursing the orders from Dr. Lorenz to avoid any activity that would elevate my heart rate significantly. Sex is definitely off the table.

“I meant to tell you this earlier, but you look beautiful,” he tells me, helping me off the couch.

I press a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “You look quite nice yourself, H.”

“Thank you, my love,” he hums, pecking chastely against my lips. “Ready to go?”

I nod my agreement and Mum and Anne wish us a goodbye and a goodnight as Harry ushers me out the door. There’s a car waiting for us outside the front door, and I raise an eyebrow at him. 

He shrugs. “Just in case, Mick. Henry is much better at maneuvering around paparazzi than I am.”

Henry is Harry’s driver, and I have to suppose he’s right. Harry gets too on edge when there’s paps to get around while we’re out on the streets. Henry’s one of the most calm driver’s I’ve ever met, letting every cut off by another car and honking horn roll right off his back like he doesn’t even see or hear it. It’s amazing, and I would only be so lucky to be that laid back about driving one day. I’ve got a bit of road rage, if I do say so myself. I’m not sure if I’ll ever get around that one. 

“Alright,” I sigh, letting him guide me into the car. Harry tends to keep one hand on my body at all times now that I’ve been put on bed rest. He’s terrified of something happening to me or the baby, and he figures his steady hands will somehow prevent my blood pressure from rising. While it’s a great practice, and I do quite enjoy Harry’s hands on me, I don’t think his hand on the low of my back is helping me much get into the car. 

Once we’re on our way, Harry grins at me, looking more excited than I’ve seen him in awhile. 

“What is it?” I ask, wondering what’s got him so giddy. He’s been so reserved lately, very obviously trying to keep in whatever big secret he’s got tumbling about in his mind. It’s been bugging me a bit, honestly, but as our mothers as distractions, I haven’t had much time to dwell on it. It’s only now, seeing his typical grin and cavern-like dimples that I realize it’s been a few days since I’ve seen them out. 

“I’m gonna tell you now, but you’ve got to promise to stay calm,” he bargains. “Don’t want either of you getting too riled up. Can’t risk that.”

“Harry, just get on with it,” I demand. “You hyping it up like this is just making me more giddy.”

His chest expands with a deep breath. “I’ve got a movie deal.”

My mouth pops open as I blink at him. I’m silent for a few beats, trying to formulate a response to his bomb as he just grins like that cat who ate the canary. The smug bastard.

“I’m sorry. You’ve what?”

“I’ve got a movie deal. Everything got finalized today. That’s what the meeting was about. Contract’s signed, schedule is decided. Production starts in May.”

“That soon? That’s barely any time between now and then.” Go on, Mick, keep pointing out the obvious. That will definitely move this conversation along. I think I’m still in a bit of shock. 

“Chris and Emma want a summer release next year, so we’ve got to get started now,” he shrugs, like this is completely casual.

Those names stick in my head, and I mull them over for a moment before I realize why they sound so familiar.

“Do you mean Chris Nolan and Emma Thomas? As in the director and producer of The Prestige, Momento, The Dark Knight Trilogy and the lot?”

He just nods, smirk still prominent.

“Bloody hell, H. You’re first fucking movie and you’re in a film directed by Christopher fucking Nolan and produced by Emma bleeding Thomas? Who are you?”

“Dunno, honestly. I’m just as surprised as everyone else that I actually got the part.”

“I’m not surprised! I’m sure you’re absolutely brilliant,” I assure. I have never seen Harry act, but I’s sure with the amount of talent he has, the fact that he’s good enough to land a role in a Nolan film is not surprising. “It’s just a bit shocking, is all.”

“I’m just glad I’m able to tell you, now,” he sighs, actually looking more relaxed than I’ve seen him in recent days. 

“I’m glad you’ve told me. How exciting! Where do you start filming?”

“Don’t know,” he shrugs, like the next few months of his life have no bearing on him. He’s a very go with the flow sort of guy, which annoys me a bit sometimes. We’ve got a baby on the way, and I’ve got to have a more structured schedule than it looks like Harry’s got right now. “Chris said he’d let us know for sure in the next week.”

That assurance made me feel a little better. 

“Well, this should be exciting. Can’t wait to see you on the big screen.”

“I’ve got to cut all my hair off, as well,” he tosses in as casually as possible. “You’ve what?”

The next few days go by in a blur. Harry’s gone for a majority of the day with meetings and things, so I’m typically spending time with his and my mum, making last minute plans for the baby shower. We’re having it at mine and Trevor’s place, as to keep Harry’s privacy. They’ve been round the flat for a few days, tutting around with Trev in order to get the place in shape to hold the shower. Harry comes around after he’s finished at work in order to spend some time with us and bring around lunch or dinner. 

My back has been hurting so badly lately that I don’t really bother to get up and do much, though sitting or laying doesn’t seem to help any. Harry’s so kind as to rub my back whenever he’s over, doing it even subconsciously now as he sits ant talks with Trev or our mothers. Even in bed at night, he’ll rub my back for a few before we settle in and doze off. He’s being exceptionally sweet to me, even by Harry’s standards, and I’m somewhat suspicious of it.

We still haven’t properly spoken about the Kendall thing, and while my feelings about it have definitely dulled, I know it’s something that’s hanging over both of our heads. So, when we’re alone on one of his days of just a day before the shower, I finally bring it up.

We’re sat on the couch while Trev’s at a lecture, flicking through the channels on the TV. Harry tends to just flip the channel instead of pulling up the guide and searching through there, so we get a bit of every show on for a few seconds before he moves on to the next. Of course, once we stumble upon E!, the Kardashians are on, and Kendall just so happens to be taking up a majority of the screen. I feel him tense up beside me, already twitching to change the channel, but I speak before he can make a move.

“We never talked about what happened the other week.”

He mutes the telly as he sighs, reaching his fingers up to pinch at his nose. “I’ve been avoiding it.”

“I can tell.”

“I just don’t know what to say, Mick. That whole thing was a fucking mess. Nothing even happened, and you reacted badly.”

I scoff at what he’s calling ‘nothing.’ So maybe my emotions haven’t dulled all that much. “I’m pregnant, Harry. My emotions are heightened. Plus, you ex-girlfriend showed up at your house, looking for a shag, and then ran her mouth about how kinky you are in bed! You think I don’t deserve to be a bit hurt by that, Harry?”

He scrambles to sit up and face me. “No, of course you’re allowed. I know why you’re upset. And I didn’t mean to dismiss your feelings. I just meant, at the time, you stormed off with no reason. I didn’t know you’d heard all the dumb shit she’d said while you were in the house. You just booked it out of there like the building was on fire.”

“I was upset, Harry. She’s so pretty and thin and a fucking model, for Christ’s sake! Who would ever choose me over her?”

Okay, so I was a lot more upset about it than I even let on to myself. I’d been pushing down all these feelings for far too long, even though it hadn’t been long at all. But it was too long when I was already in a fragile state. 

Harry got a perplexed look on his face. “What in the bloody hell are you talking about?”

“If I were you, I’d be into her, too! I’m fat and bed-ridden, Harry! What man wants a fat, bed-ridden woman?” I am completely aware of how ridiculous I’m being, but I can’t seem to help it. The words just seem to spew out of my mouth without my control. All my deepest insecurities and worries are just being laid out there like I’ve never wanted them to be before, and I can’t seem to stop it. It’s absolutely awful.

“First of all, you’re on bed rest; you’re not bedridden,” he corrects, a stern look on his face that only intensifies with his next statement. “And second of all, you’re pregnant, not fat. Please don’t make me go back over how absolutely, devastatingly gorgeous I find you while you’re carrying my child. I find you completely stunning anyway, and you’re pregnancy has only magnified it. There’s no competition between you and anyone else. You’re it for me, Micky Bennet. I’d marry you today if I could. This is it for me. I don’t want anyone else. I’ve never wanted anyone else the way I want you, and I will never want anyone like I want you ever again. I’m in love with you, you silly woman. You and Waverly are the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I’d be a damned fool to give that up for a model I had a fling with for a month.”

Harry looks about as surprised by his little rant as I do. We both sit stock still for a few moments just gazing at each other, digesting all that has been said in the past few minutes. 

Harry finally clears his throat. “I’m sorry, that was a little intense.”

His words seem to snap me out of my own surprised stupor. “You want to marry me?”

For some reason, this makes Harry giggle. “Out of all that, that’s what you focused on?” he asks with a small shake of his head.

I nudge at his hip with my foot, a little offended. “Well, obviously! I’ve never heard that before.”

“That’s because I’ve never said it before.”

“Then why have you said it now?”

“It slipped out,” he admits, his cheeks suddenly blooming a faint pink. “Think it a lot, just don’t ever say it.”

“You really want to marry me?” I ask, a bit stunned still by his confession. I’ve known for a while now that he loves me, but marriage? That’s a whole other ball game, as far as I’m concerned. 

“Why do you say that like it’s so shocking? Of course I want to marry you. Think I’ve known that for a lot longer than I’d care to admit.”

“Really?”

He grins a little. “Really.” 

There’s a small pause between us where a let a smile split across my face. Harry’s stretches to match it, both of us kind of giggling at the turn this conversation has taken.

“Just to be clear, that wasn’t a proposal.”

“I’d sure hope not. That was a lousy proposal if I’d ever heard one.”

“Oi! Rude.”

“You just said it wasn’t a proposal!”

“Yeah, but what if it had been? I’d be extremely offended.”

“Well, good thing it wasn’t.”

“True. Don’t even have a ring, either. Be a shit proposal.”

“Be a little more organized and prepared when you really do it, yeah?”

“I can guarantee that, pet.”

FORTY-ONE

[castiel-left-his-mark-on-me]

A Bit About Being a Team Member at SFCon:

(Saturday Night Special: "She Waits")

Working at the Supernatural San Francisco convention was nothing short of amazing. 

If you want to read why, look under the cut. 

As some of you know, this was only my second time volunteering for a Creation Entertainment convention. Last year, I also worked the San Francisco Supernatural con, and had a very busy, fun and kinda stressful time.

So when this year's convention came around, I was expecting it to go about the same way. I would have never imagined how much better it could actually be. When I first got there, I began helping with the set-up. Laying out merchandise, getting things started, and organized. If you ever go to a convention, just look around at every little thing that's laid out, someone had to put it there. Someone had to set it up. It's a lot of work, and all those people wearing those shirts with "Creation Entertainment" on them are the ones responsible for it. So make sure you thank them the next time you're there. Anyway, as I was doing set-up, one of the coordinators came up to me and said that Stephanie, the convention supervisor, picked me to be a concierge.

I was a little confused considering that the concierge team members are usually the individuals who follow the circuit from town to town. They're at pretty much every Creation stop, and the company knows them very well. I have only done one convention before this, so I thought this had to be a mistake. Therefore, as soon as I found the time, I ran back to the office to talk to Stephanie.  Now mind you, I had only ever spoken to her a couple of times  last year, and each of them were very brief. Yet, as soon as I walked in the office, Stephanie jumped to her feet and screamed my name and then wrapped me in a big hug! She then proceeded to tell me how excited she was to see me at another convention, and then she said how she knew I'd be perfect in the concierge position.

All in all, it was very flattering to know that the hard work I did last year did not go unnoticed like I thought I did. It wasn't too long after that that I met the woman who I would be helping throughout the rest of the convention-- oh, and man was I lucky! The other people in charge of VIPs and concierge had guests that were either very demanding, very complicated, or just plain rude; and here I am with an absolute angel whose only goal for the weekend is to have a great time. Her and I hit it off instantly, and were making each other laugh and cracking jokes within the first few minutes.

(Jensen and Misha are her obsessions too 😉)

Trisha made this convention feel like something I got to attend rather than a job that I had to do. I got to go with her to all her photo ops, meet and greets, and watch all the panels--  all while sharing in the excitement of someone's first convention. Trisha's coworkers and family all chipped in to make this experience wonderful for her, including covering the cost of the concierge service. So for the entirety of the convention, Trisha called me her "gift". She even asked me to stand in one of her Misha photo ops to show off her gift. I was  completely overwhelmed with her kindness every second of the weekend. 

On Sunday night, when the convention was winding to a close, Trisha handed me a t-shirt that she bought for me and a card. She said that there was a little something in the card as a thank you.  Now I was told before that we were allowed to accept tips. I still felt weird accepting anything from her, considering she had been anything but work since day one; but since I thought that there was only like $40 in the envelope, I said "thank you" and took the card. I never thought in a million years that she would have put in $200! As soon as I opened it, I texted her and told her there was no way I could accept such a generous amount; but she basically told me to shut it and accept the money because I made her weekend unforgettable. 

I still don't think she knows just how much she has helped me, even though I tried to explain. She truly was an angel, a miracle, the best thing that could have happened at this convention!

I ❤ you,  Trisha!

But as  hard as it is to believe, Trisha was not the only lucky part of this weekend. I also got to see and hug some old friends, sing 'Carry On My Wayward' Son with Alex Calvert (he didn't know the words, so he put the mic in my face and said "You got this!"), I got to sit in on Misha's meet and greet, I got to touch Misha again, and I almost ran head-first into Jensen as he was walking into his autographs.

Also at one point, I walked in to the photo-op room to ask someone a question, and I started talking to a girl who I thought was one of the handlers, but then she began looking at me like I was a crazy person; so I stopped and said "Wait, you work here right?" She quickly smiled and shook her head and it said "No I'm at Alex's girlfriend." I was so shocked for a second that I stupidly stood back and said "Good for you!" Thankfully,  she just laughed and smiled and said "I know right?" I was so embarrassed with how I blurted that out that I just apologized and left the room as fast as I could. I don't even remember what I had gone in there to ask.

In between all that excitement, I got to help quite a few wonderful guests. One woman had lost her Jeffrey Dean Morgan autograph collection in the last round of wildfires that swept through British Columbia. Those fires took her belongings,  her house and even her pets,  and this was the first thing she had done to find happiness since she lost it all. She was hoping to at least get something back-- a signed Jeffrey Dean Morgan banner. She was hoping that she could see him sign it in person too, so I worked with the auctioneer to get it for her. She was in tears because she was so grateful. Apparently Jeffrey stepped away from the autograph line to take her in the back and have a short conversation with her about everything that she had been through. She made me cry as she told me about it. I can't tell you how good that felt. 

There was also a young girl and her father that I got to help throughout the weekend. The girl was severely disabled and in a wheelchair. I got her seat moved so that she could see the stage better during all the panels. Later on, I spoke with her father and he said that she was having a surgery in a month with only a 25% survival rate. Both he and I cried as he told me about how depressed she's been -- even turning to self harm ... but then she found Supernatural. And later on that evening, she also told Misha about the surgery and all her struggles, and Misha cried too. Her dad was just so grateful that his daughter could experience something that could make her truly happy, for maybe the last time.

The feeling of seeing her come out of her photo ops, a huge smile on her face, pulling at her dad's arm, saying "Dad dad! They're real! Can you believe it? They're real!" ... was overwhelming and heartbreaking all at once. I wish her all the best ... she deserves it. 

I can't say that every moment was absolutely perfect though. At one point, a supervisor came up to me and  said that I was going to be Mark Sheppard's feeder for his autographs on Saturday. A feeder is the person who sits next to the celebrity as they're signing, and they keep track of all the signatures and make sure that everyone coming through the line has a legitimate ticket. It's a lot more complicated than you think, and it doesn't help that Mark is one of the pickiest people when it comes to his autograph line. He likes to go fast, he likes things done a particular way, and he will tell you if you mess up. Well ... I've never done this job before, so I don't know why they put me in that position, and especially in that position for Mark! Not only that, it was Mark's last convention, so the pressure was on to make it all perfect. Of course-- it was not perfect, and the way that my supervisor told me to run his line, was not the way that Mark wanted it done. At one point shortly into the signings, he leaned over and told me that I needed to do everything differently. I apologized and tried to do it the way that he wanted, but that didn't go well either. Basically, I had people slowing things down, people stealing autographs, his handlers stepping in every five minutes telling me that I needed to hurry up, Mark getting frustrated, all while guests are giving me confused looks because I was turning 20 different shades of red the entire time. Mark was very nice though, because halfway through I apologized again and said that this was my first time  so I didn't really know how to do any of it. He said it was okay and that I was doing great, so that did help a little bit; and later on he told a guest that came up for a signing, that I was very nice. So it wasn't awful,  but I just didn't want to be the one responsible for ruining one of his last convention experiences for Supernatural.

(Crowd holding up “Even when I lose, I win” signs for Mark’s last panel)

Overall, the weekend was the absolute best. Great people, great new friends, and one of a kind experiences all created memories that I will remember forever. Memories that I will cherish, memories that I will hold dear ... especially the memory of watching Misha and Jensen standing in the corner of the photo op room, drinking beers, laughing, gently nudging each other on the shoulder like two flirtatious teenagers; and every time Jensen took a swig from his bottle, Misha would watch his lips so closely, you'd think he was studying him for a portrait class.

Yeah ... it was a great fucking  weekend. 

😄