#gods I am. SO glad those meds were just for a week because all four of us were fuckin miserable trying to do them lol

[answrs]

just saw Luna yawn for the first time post-unteethening and her mouth!!!! is so!!!!! tiny!!!!!!!!!!!!

[sroloc--elbisivni]

bunnyguard reflection

in the spirit of 'fuckit it's my own blog i can be sappy if i want to' as well as 'this took a year and 78k and i get to keep talking about it for at least one more day' now and here is the time and place for personal yap that did not go in the last author's note.

preliminarily speaking, i had this concept in mind before I'd finished either the usagi yojimbo comics OR watching Rise. i spent so much of both of those series fishing out little moments and choices by leo and usagi that made me go 'oh my god i NEED these guys to meet, i need to watch them bounce off each other.' I kept collecting snips of ideas, and dialogue, and encounters that never quite all panned out or fit together because this was just so much fun for me to play in. I had a lot of wanting to turn this into a real story but no concrete frame to build it on, and then in january i saw the year of the otp prompts go by. and went 'oh haha that looks fun.' it was even the year of the rabbit. and then i went 'oh!! what if i did VIGNETTES for these!!' and then less than three days later the Battle Nexus as political element of the Hidden City, complete with connections to the very different other iteration of it that we'd seen, fell into place and suddenly this silly little whim was an actual big project staring me down with an ambitious goal in mind, and I had no idea if I could pull it off.

structuring it as a month by month thing was something i'd never done before. it forced me to wait to find out what would happen, to keep building to something that didn't exist yet, to lay down the track while I was driving the train. and at the same time, it gave me space to grow, to practice putting together a beginning, middle, and end every month. and it gave me something to look forward to, and the excitement of dropping in threads that wouldn't pay off for months, and watching as it went to see what the audience reaction would be. were people getting out of it the things i wanted to give them? was i hitting the notes i wanted? i had the sketch of the year, but i was still learning what was going to happen until the moment the last word hit the page. plot and character choices, but also big thematic stuff! i described November's fic as 'the ten of swords' to Space and then went 'wait a fucking second' and realized that I could draw a connection, in order, between each fic and a numerical card of tarot's suit of swords. (mostly one-to-one --october straddles 9-10, and December loops us back around to the Ace of swords, for new beginnings.) i couldn't have done that on purpose. if i'd had that thought in january i would have gone 'no that's too pretentious and too hard' and avoided it.

also!! this has been a year of my life!! over the course of this series, i've had four different living situations (that lasted longer than a week), two different jobs, and gone back to school. i had to change meds, which was an anxious ordeal in 'am i even going to be able to focus on anything now?' the cat that was purring on my lap while i worked on the first few months has now passed away. this fic kept me company on the flight for my move to a different continent. it kept me sane in the middle of a very stressful summer. it's helped me meet and get closer to some really cool people. i can FEEL how it's made me a stronger writer.

and on top of all that: i am deeply, genuinely, truly proud of this series. i'm glad i wrote it. i'm amazed at how it's turned out. i can see things i would change if i did it over, but i'm glad i won't be. i'm glad this is the way it exists. and i am utterly blown away that there are people who told me they were looking forward to it every month, that they've been following it since the beginning, that they like what i've done with this place. this is the longest-term project i've ever done. it's the most words i've ever put into a single narrative. i can't believe it's never going on my wip rotation again. whadda hell.

i have no idea if i'll ever do anything like this again. i hope it won't be anytime soon--there are other things i want to do in the meantime. but god, am i glad i did it.

[rezdogsyonder]

Changing

Pairing: Peter Parker x Tall!Reader

Summary: Peter has found his soulmate but does she feel the same? Basically a soulmate au but different

Warnings: kidnapping, drugging,

A/N: Peter is aged up. Also I changed his powers just a tiny bit just one thing and the rest is the same.

This peice is unfinished and it will remain unfinished because I’m leaving tumblr and will not be returning. If you wish to continue this you may.

*********

Fuck. Not right now. Not today.

That’s all you can think as you’re nearly late for your first day as an photographer. It isn’t the first place you wanted to work for but you need the money. Well probably not a “real” photographer. You’re not hired for the job on a regular basis, but for their front page photos of Spider-Man. It’s cool, Spider-Man won’t let anybody else take his photos.

Well, it’s not really your first day but it’s the first day that Jameson is actually considering you as his official Spider-Man photographer. Before you usually would email him asking if he needed more photos and now he is finally now telling you that you’re going to be the official photographer for the weekly Spider-Man pieces.

You have started a blog for the hero and hopefully it will gain traction and maybe you’ll get to make an income from it. But for now you have to sell your photos to the Daily Bugle.

The rent is due Friday and you get a check from the gas station you work at that day, it won’t be enough to cover it though. But with a check after each batch of photos you provide will put you way over the green this pay day.

You’re rushing about your medium sized 1 room apartment. This place was a gem, the only reason this place was as cheap as a studio is because a billboard was directly across from the extremely large windows. Lighting up your entire apartment. It didn’t bother you much, it saved on electricity from never having to turn on the lights and all you needed was blackout curtains in your room.

You are not changing shirts but you squeeze into a pair of black pants. The grey boyfriend cardigan getting tucked in the back, but it doesn’t deter you from running to the bathroom and vigorously brushing your teeth. You’ll have to forgo the entire makeup routine but you have time for foundation and mascara.

Rushing back into your bedroom you pull a pair of socks from the top drawer of your dresser and look at your alarm clock. 9:42. 18minutes till you’re late. Well you know in Jameson’s eyes you are already late but he screams at you no matter what.

Your second shoe is tied, you got your purse and it has your wallet, phone, and keys already. You run out of your room and in the hallway of the complex. Fuck, locking these doors seems to be the longest part of leaving. 3 locks, self installed with the extra long screws. Never needed this much security before but some blind asshole next door seems to always be getting into fights. Like what the fuck, how hard is it to not fight someone, and then he leads them here.

Once the doors are locked and you’re out of the building you look at your phone. 9:44. 16 minutes to go around 2 miles. Well broadway cuts across, so probably less, but anyways you gotta run it. Now you’re not the most fit person, but you are able to push yourself more than what others would think you’d be able to.

Dodging people and avoiding running into the road, you make it to the first turn. Basically a straight shot now, but it seems as though people are wanting to be in your way today. You would love a bike right about now. Though you’d have a really high chance of getting hit by a car. But it’s right about the same risk since you are not stopping at the do not walk signs.

One car almost did hit you, but it braked in time but not without you slapping the hood as you went by. Not on purpose but from loss of balance. Well you probably would have slapped it anyways. Your face burns from the run, and the heat, it is the end of summer but it is still pretty hot out.

Oh god, this is awful, you’re just a more than halfway and you nearly ran into an old man and his wife outside of m&m world.

“Sorry!” You shout back but it’s not very loud and sounds winded. You won’t stop though.

Just a couple more turns. Just two more turns. Just one more. You keep telling yourself that you’re almost there, legs straining the muscles from the over exertion.

You get into the building and run to the elevator. You know you probably look unprofessional right about now but you don’t care. You just need to catch your breath.

You press the right floor and dig through your purse. The small mirror being a lifesaver as of recently, since being late is seeming to become a common ovccurance. You pat your forehead with the sleeve of your cardigan. You don’t look too bad, but not the best. You check the time, 9:58. Not bad, you’ll be just 1 minute early. The elevator ride giving you just enough time to breath properly.

The elevator doors open to the busy floor, and you go over to Jameson’s assistant, not even reaching her desk before she points her pen behind her to his office.

“L/N!” He immediately shouts, “Where are those photos?” He is still looking out the window behind his desk.

“Right here sir,” you pull the envelope out of your purse holding it out for him to take it. Which he does, ripping the lip of the envelope and begins examining your photos.”

“850. Tell Betty on your way out.” He plops you’re photos on his desk.

“850? That’s not my rate, there are 12 photos there.”

“These just aren’t worth your usual rate. 850.” He argues back, you’ve seen this before, had you been any smaller or even sitting he would have put his hands on his desk and leaned towards you to seem intimidating, but right now he looks like a child with his hands balled at his side.

“65 per photo or I go to The Post.” You won’t back down. That’s nearly a thousand, and you don’t want to let it go, even if it is less than 200 more than what he offered but you need it.

He stares at you, he’s turning red now in the ears. You collect your photos calling his bluff.

“Fine,” he grumbles, he presses a button on the small speaker on his desk, “Betty, write out a check for L/N for 975.” He released the button and you put the photos down. “Get out of here, she’ll call when we have another piece.”

“You’re a peach,” you smiled as you back out of his office. “Hey Betty, how’re you doing this week?”

“Just fine, but his wife wants me to control his anger as soon as his meds are sorted. Not looking forward to that.” She finishes filling out the check on her computor, and with one last click that is so familiar to you now, you know she printed it.

“Jesus, I do not want to be here for that.” You step back four steps to the printer and rip off the receipt at the bottom that she needs to keep and hand it to her. “Good luck, because you will need it. Thanks, see you next week!” You wave bye as the doors close.

Letting out a sigh of relief, and tucking your check into your wallet. You’re glad you won’t have to worry anymore. With this check you’ll have four or five hundred more than you’ll need for rent, meaning you won’t have to scrape by for grocerys.

You better hurry though, you have an hour till your next shift at the gas station and you still need a shower.

**********

The hours are going by slowly, with few customers to keep you distracted. Just 4 more hours and you get to call it a night. It has already been 6 hours since you clocked in and there had only been a handful of customers, making the day uncharacteristically slow.

Your phone begins vibrating on the small fridge below the counter, the shift managers name on the display screen. Seeing as there’s no customers you think it is fine to answer.

“Hello? Debby?” You greet subconciously.

“Y/N I have some bad news.” She pauses, “the person who is supposed to relieve you is refusing to come in. She quit.”

“What am I supposed to do? I’ve been here since 11:30, I don’t think it’s allowed for me to work past 1. Wasn’t her shift supposed to last till 8?”

“Yes I know but you are legally allowed to work till 4:30, and that is when I’ll take over because I cannot find another person to cover her shift. It’s only alright because I’m switching your shift tomorrow with Alex and you’ll have the day off to recuperate. Then it’s your usual day off the next so I think that’s enough time to get back to normal.”

“So I’m leaving at 4:30?” Disbelief evident in your voice.

“Yes, I’m sorry, I would get there now but John doesn’t come home until late tonight because he took the graveyard shift at his job and I can’t leave J.C. alone.”

“Yeah I understand, family comes first.”

“Thank you, you’re the best. See ya later.”

“Yeah, see you.”

You put down your phone and mentally prepare yourself for another 11 hours.

**********

Three red bulls, and a seasonal pumpkin spice coffee from the dispenser and it was almost midnight.

Many more customers has came in after the call, the universe seemingly wanting to tire you out further. Then it began slowing down again after 9. The time you were supposed to be going home if Patricia didn’t fucking refuse to come in.

It was about that time that a young man came in, wearing a dark suit but without the blazer. Sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Light brown hair and pale skin, he looked breathtaking. He quickly rounds to the back grabbing three of the big bottles of water.

“Just these for me...” he trails off as he sniffs, then he looks up and makes eye contact with you.

You two are staring at each other for a few seconds, his stare becoming unbearable and you look away.

“Ok sir... that’ll be 5.97.” You still feel his gaze. Refusing to look up, you bag his things. You hear his card slide through the machine.

“Thank you sir, have a nice night.”

“Yeah... you too.” And with that he was gone. Leaving you to think about this stranger for the rest of your shift.

**********

As promised, Debbie came at 4:30. You left to walk home. It was nice living basically across the street from your work. A short walk, but you still felt a sense of unease.

Looking all around you, you don’t spot any suspicious people. Not even one heading in the same direction as you. You let out a small sigh as you cross the road. But it does nothing to calm your nerves.

You’re trying not to seem panicked as you try to get through the door to your building but it might be obvious with how you’re shaking.

Past the door you let go if your breath that you didn’t know you were holding. Finally able to calm down. You walked to apartment, using the elevator instead of the stairs.

Once at your door your heart beat seems to have gone back to normal, but before you even put your key in the door you feel the hairs at the back of your neck stand up. You don’t know what it is, maybe it’s just a chill.

Unlocking all the locks you go inside, greeted by the bright pink fluorescent lights. You shut the door behind you and drop your bag on the floor. Too tired to care. Moving to go into your room, knowing that you’re not going to change into pajamas either.

Well probably take of the pants. Yeah, jeans are never comfy.

Shoes kicked off, pants off, bra off with some difficulty from your long sleeves, blankets pulled back and you’re ready for bed. You’re getting in when you hear a creek in the living room, but you don’t see anyone so it’s maybe the upstairs neighbours.

You turn around once more to lay down and you feel a pinprick at your neck. You slump over and you feel hands at your shoulders, picking you up in their arms.

Eyes won’t open, and you are quickly losing consciousness.

“Shh, you’re safe with me.”

*********

Your head is pounding, that’s what wakes you up. You still feel groggy and it makes your eyelids feel incredibly heavy. You want to sleep for more but your eyes keep fighting to open.

Once they do you are met with a room that is not your own. Everything is white, except the headboard which is a light grey, matching the bedside table. You look around, about 6 feet from the foot of the bad is a back door and there’s a bathroom to the left of the bed with the door wide open.

You run to the closed door, you grasp the handle but you get a head rush and are unable to turn the handle for a good 5 seconds. It’s no use though, the door was locked, and it doesn’t seem like a regular lock. It seems more advanced, it’s a regular handle but it’s warm, and doesn’t have any keyhole. It’s also not as big as a hotel handle, like the ones with the scanners. Irrelevant, but your mind is running a million miles an hour and you’re trying really hard to not panic.

You realize that you aren’t wearing your pants but a pair of sweats were at the edge of the king bed. You quickly pull them on. Your kidnapper has already seen your ass, but it’s a little bit comforting. Your bladder is full and it is more apparent now than a couple minutes ago.

They aren’t here yet, better be quick. You half jog into the bathroom it has a large sink and a nice looking shower, but you don’t want to use it due to there being no lock on the bathroom door and the shower door is glass. Not even one of those blurred glass doors, it is crystal clear.

You had already peed and we’re washing your hands when you hear a small beep and the locks opening. You’re drying your hands when you hear a knock at the door. You don’t answer.

Another knock, you stared at the door, a low sigh is heard and the door swings open.

It was the man from last night, except now he was covering his eyes with his hand.

“I swear I’m not looking but please come out right now.”

“... alright.” You’re voice is a little rough and just above a whisper.

“Thank you.” He turned around leaving the door open and you follow.

“Come with me.” he waves his hand over the lock and the beep is heard again.

He leads you through the door into a long hallway, when he turned to the left so did you. There’s no point in running when he would catch you in less than 2 seconds.

You pass by 4 doors, one on your left and three on your right. The fifth door on the right you entered and it was an office.

“Sit.” And you did, he sat behind the large desk and leaned forward with his elbows on it. “I need to tell you something that would be hard to hear. Hell, hard to believe, but just know that everything I’m telling you is true.”

You nodded when he paused and looked at you. You felt so out of place and uncomfortable. Heart beating so fast and hard, it feels as though it’s bursting out of your chest. Your hands slightly shaking and feet tapping where you sat on the edge of this obviously expensive chair.

“I’m going to be frank with you alright? You are my soulmate.”

You freeze, “wait... what?” You didnt believe it, he was right. He’s crazy. Soulmates were a rare thing in this world. How would he know? He only knew you for 5 seconds so why does he know? Why would he take you?

“We are soulmates. I felt it when I first met eyes with you, I know that you did too. I took you here because, to put it simply, you would be safe. There are many people after me and if they learned of your existsence they would find you and use you against me.”

“H-how do I know your not lying?” You stare at the lines in the wood of his desk, refusing to look up. When you look him in the eyes you feel the same pull that you did back at the gas station. You hear rustling and you glance up for just a second, then you look back when you realize it’s just his arm that he wants you to look at.

He begins rolling his sleeves like the way you saw last night. Or was it even still the next day? You don’t know. Not seeing any clock or any windows since you were at your home.

Beautiful lines are spread across his forearm and you realize it wasn’t there before. “Can you look at your arm?” His voice is gentle, like he’s trying to be comforting.

You stare at his arm as you pull your sleeve up, then you look down at a blank arm. You pull up your other sleeve just as roughly and see the same tattoo that he has. You touch it gently as though it’ll smear if you are as rough as you were two seconds ago.

“Mine showed up a little after I stepped out of that store. I guess you didn’t notice yours.” You rub at yours and it won’t come off, and the skin isn’t raised as though you have a regular tattoo.

“What does this mean?”

“This means that you are now mine.” You feel tears welling in your eyes.

“So I can’t go home?”

“No, and some things are going to change.” You look at him wide eyed, fearful for the changes that he has in mind.

“So I’m sure you have heard of the powered people of New York, and I am telling you that I am one of them. Not only that, but I am a member of the avengers.” He pauses, you feel his eyes on you and you can only assume he is trying to gauge your reaction. “But I didn’t achieve my abilities through government testing or anything of the sort. I was bit by a mutant spider and I gained the spiders abilities.”

“You’re... Spider-Man?”

“That’s right. Now that you’re here, I will have to give you the same abilities I have so that we will be on equal grounds.”

“How are you going to do that?” You look up at his face.

“I will bite you of course.”

[atlafan]

Take it Slow - Part Forty-Nine

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

Warnings: Smut, Fluff, and a wee bit of Angst. 

Masterpost (all previous parts can be found in the masterpost)

“Morning, Harry.” Isaac smiles at Harry as he walks in.

“Mornin’.” He says going right to his office. He was extremely groggy. He barely got any sleep thinking about a future with you. He was just too excited at the thought of you someday being the mother of his children.

“Have a good weekend?”

“Mm.” He says, not really being awake enough to talk yet.

He goes into his office and sits down. His phone buzzes, a notification from Instagram. You had posted some pictures from Saturday. He smiles when he swipes to see the picture of the two of you, and then some from the photo booth. You also added a funny one of you and Niall, and a decent picture of the four of you. He double taps to like it, and sets his phone aside. Julia knocks on his door.

“Hi Harry.”

“Hi.”

“Doing the coffee rounds.”

“Julia.” He sighs. “I ask for the same thing every mornin’, do ya think we could skip this part and just go straight to when you actually give me the coffee from now on?”

“Um…sure, Harry, I could do that.”

“I’d really appreciate it.”

She smiles and leaves. He knew she looked forward to that first interaction every day, but he just needed the time to settle in without being interrupted. He grabs a camera and head down to the set up he’d be working with for the day. Mariah joins him a couple minutes later. They chat about the weekend and he shows her the pictures you posted. Julia comes over with their coffees.

“Ah, thanks, love.” Harry says without really thinking about it, taking a sip of his coffee. Her face heats up.

“You’re welcome.” She smiles at him.

“Right, well, have fun with Myk today.”

She turns and leaves them alone. Later when he feel puckish for a snack he bumps into Paige in the breakroom.

“Hey, H.” She says.

“Hi Paige, good weekend?”

“Yeah it was alright, went by way too fast.”

“Agreed.” He grabs a protein bar from a cabinet. “How are things with Dana?”

“Really good actually, she’s a fast learner. It’s been nice having some help, I’ve been able to get a lot more work done since I’ve been letting her handle some more of the mundane tasks. Thanks again for telling Ryan to have her work with me.”

“So you haven’t been annoyed at all?”

“I was at first, but once I realized that she was actually helping I was totally over it.” She smiles.

“Good, glad I could help.” He smiles back.

Harry’s day is easy for the most part. No one really interrupted him which he greatly appreciated. There were a fuck ton of pictures and shots he needed to take. He was exhausted by the time he needed to leave to meet Niall.

“Have a good evening, H.” Isaac says as he leaves.

“How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Always have such a bright smile on your face? I have to say it always helps me leave here with a good mood.” Harry smiles at him and leaves.

“Oh my god.” Isaac says to himself, feeling slightly flustered.

//

Harry meets Niall at the storage unit, and they take a couple of trips bringing things back and forth. After work you went home to pack up a bunch of things. You also wanted to make dinner for Harry since you knew he’d be hungry after doing so much heavy lifting. When he got home he was sweaty and tired. He took his shirt off the second he was able to hang his coat up. He was desperate for a shower, and you.

You were bent over cleaning something up off the floor, tears streaming down your cheeks. Harry rushes over to you, and you stand up.

“Hi.” You sniffle, and then look at him surprised. “Where’s your shirt?”

“I just took it off, what happened?”

“I was taking dinner out of the oven and I burnt myself and then I dropped everything on the floor. I feel really bad because I know you did a ton of work tonight and I just wanted to have a nice dinner made for you.” You wipe your eyes.

“Where’d you get burnt, babe.”

“My wrist, look.” You hold your wrist out to him. He leads you over to the sink and runs a paper towel under some warm water. You raise an eyebrow at him.

“It’s better to run a burn under warm water, cold water will make it scar.” He dabs your wrist with the paper towel and you wince, but relax at the way he touches you. “I’m sorry this happened.”

“I just finished cleaning everything up. I’ll have to dive into our frozen meals, I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, love.” He continues to press the paper towel to your wrist. He removes it and brings your wrist up to his mouth for a kiss. “There, all better.” He kisses the top of your head. “A frozen meal is just fine, do ya mind poppin that pizza we got in the oven? I’m desperate for a shower. I probably smell like a goat.” You giggle.

“You smell just fine, and yeah I can make that for us.”

“Thanks.”

He goes into the bathroom and gets in the shower. He stands there for a while just letting the warm water cascade over him. You pop the pizza into the oven, and go sit on the couch with your laptop. You wanted to start your first assignment for class. You had to read a few chapters out of your book and then post in a forum. You had two different high lighters out so you could color code. Harry comes out in just a pair of boxers, his hair still damp. He sits down next to you. You had the TV on while you were reading and high lighting. He watched as your lips mouthed the words you were reading.

“How can you concentrate with the TV on?”

“Hm?” You look at him. “I don’t know, I need the background noise. I usually have the TV on or listen to music while I do my homework. Are you one of those people that need it silent?”

“No, I used to listen to music, just couldn’t read with the TV on.”

“Well, I already read what questions she wants answered in the forum, so I’m just skimming for quotes.”

“Cheatin’ the system a bit?” He smirks.

“I learned a long time ago, it’s all about learning how the teacher teaches. I’m taking in all of the content, but I also know how to play the game. I’m not going to put in a crazy amount of effort if I don’t need to.”

“What happened to givin’ your all?”

“I still am.” You shrug. “I still fully intend to get an A, I’m just doing it the way I know how.”

“How come you have two high lighters?”

“I code while I read, it helps me remember things when I go back to study later.”

“What-“

“Harry.” You sigh. “TV is one thing, but you talking isn’t really helping me read.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I can go into the bedroom if you want.”

“No, it’s fine. Do your readin’ here.” He smiles.

You get back to it and find what you need for quotes. You grab your laptop and open up a word document. You had a word limit you needed to hit and you wanted to hit it well. Harry steals glances of you. You looked so concentrated. He couldn’t believe how fast you were typing away while you answered your questions. The timer went off on the oven, so he got up to take it out. He let it cool for a few minutes and then sliced it up. He brought two pieces on a plate over for you and set it on the coffee table. You copied everything from the document into the forum and posted.

“Finally.” You sigh and grab the pizza. “In a couple days I have to respond two people, and then I’ll be done for the week.”

“Seems tedious.”

“Very, but it’s easy so I’m not complaining.”

“What’s this class about?”

“It’s a philosophy, ethics, and education course. I think I want to teach at a collegiate level someday so getting an MEd is the route I think I’m going to take.”

“Hm, Professor Y/L/N, I like the sound of that.”

“Me too, I especially like the way it sounds coming from you.” You give him a peck on the cheek and dive into your pizza.

“I don’t think I’d survive one of your classes.”

“Why’s that?”

“The combination of how strict you’d probably be with how sexy you’d look teachin’ would just be disastrous. I’d probably have to come to your office for extra help, and then who knows what would happen?” You shake your head at him.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“It’s true! I wonder what options you’d give me for extra credit.”

“Who says you’d even take one of my classes?” You get up and put both of your plates in the sink. He follows you around.

“If I saw you on campus, I’d sign up for any class you’d be teachin’.”

“That’s only because you know me.”

“Not true.”

“Are you saying there was a hot professor at your school that you took every class with?”

“God no, I don’t think I had a single young, hot professor.” He laughs. “I typically stuck with the grad assistants.” You roll your eyes at him. “Kidding! Yikes, lighten up.” He smirks.

“Harry, I would literally not be surprised to find out if you fucked every single woman at both of your universities.”

“Not all of ‘em, didn’t fuck anyone that had a boyfriend.”

“My, how considerate of you.” You say sarcastically.

“What about me? If I were a professor at your university, would you have had a crush on me?”

“Harry, I think in any universe I would have a crush on you.” His cheeks heat up. He wasn’t expecting such an honest answer. You walk away from him and plop back down on the couch.

“Don’t get too comfy, c’mon.” You turn your head up to look at him.

“What?”

“Bedroom, let’s go.” You cross your arms and turn your attention back to the TV. “Y/N.”

“Aren’t you too tired?”

“Caught a second wind. Nothin’ on the TV is more important right now.”

“Says you.” You point to the TV. “The Bachelor is just about to start.”

“I’m sorry what?”

“Harry, the season of The Bachelor starts tonight, and I’d like to watch.” He comes over to sit next to you.

“Please, tell me you’re joking.”

“No, and in fact…” Your phone goes off, you have a FaceTime request from Niall. Your face lights up as you answer. “Hey!”

“Tell me you’re watchin’!”

“Yes! And you’re friend here doesn’t seem to understand the importance.”

“Next Monday we are gettin’ together to watch, just like last season.”

“Yes! Please, I need you here. Can you believe they went with Peter over Mike?”

“I’m still not over it.” Harry bends over and puts his face in his hands.

“I cannot fucking believe this.”

“You can either sit and watch or go to another room. This is my guilty pleasure and I’m allowed to have it.”

“Can’t you just record it?”

“And be spoiled by all the people on Twitter, I don’t think so.”

“What else is so important?” Niall asks. You give him a telling look and he starts laughing. “Keep it in your pants mate!”

“That seems to be how it’s going to be this evening.”

You and Niall decide to just text each other during the episode so Harry is slightly less annoyed. He grabbed his laptop and put his headphones in so he didn’t have to fully watch. He’d glance up at you when he’d hear you gasp or start laughing hysterically.

“What a dumb bitch!”

“Oh god, I really don’t like any of these girls.”

“Peter! You’re horny stop!”

Harry took his headphones off when he heard you say that. He looks at the screen and sees two people heavily making out.

“What in the fuck are you actually watching?”

“This is how The Bachelor is! This guy last season, he fucked this girl four times! Four times! He just wants to bone, I don’t know if he’s ready for marriage, I just don’t see it.”

“How long is this?”

“Usually it’s two hours, but because it’s the premiere, it’s three hours tonight. It’s live.”

“Three hours?!”

“You don’t have to stay up the whole time with me if you don’t want, babe.” It was already 9:30.

“No, I…”

“What?”

“I don’t wanna go to bed at a different time than you.” You turn to look at him.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t think it’s good when couple’s go to bed at different times. Like, I could already be asleep when you come to bed. Then we wouldn’t really be able to enjoy a cuddle. What’s the fun in that?”

“My parents never went to bed at the same time, it’s a perfectly normal thing.”

“Yeah? Look at how well that turned out.” Both of your eyebrows raise in a snap, and you pause the TV.

“What the fuck did you just say to me? Are you telling me that because my parents didn’t go to bed at the same time that that’s why they aren’t together?”

“No, that’s not what I meant…that came out wrong.”

“Don’t know how else you could’ve meant it Harry.” You hit play on the TV and turn your attention back to it. “Maybe you should go to bed now.”

“Can’t go to bed with you mad at me.” You sigh heavily.

“Not mad.”

“Yeah you are, I just pissed ya off. I’m sorry, I-“

“I can’t fucking hear the TV! Please, I just want to watch this!”

“It’d a fuckin’ reality show! Fuck!” He slams his laptop shut and stands up. “Don’t worry I’ll leave you and Niall to you’re textin’.”

“Good, it’s all I wanted, thanks.” You say snappily.

“You know, you didn’t even say thanks for all the shit I had to do after work today.” He crosses his arms. You pause the TV again.

“Yes I did. I tried cooking you dinner, and then I fucked it up. I appreciate everything you did this evening, okay? Would you like a cookie to go along with the thank you? Perhaps another prize of some kind?”

“Note to self, never bother you again when this stupid fuckin’ show is on or else I’ll get bitched out.” He huffs.

“You literally just threw my parent’s separation in my fucking face because I want to stay up late! You’re being psychotic Harry, it’s one night that I’m not going to go to bed with you at the same time, fuck, you’re such a baby sometimes!”

What was happening right now? He knew he shouldn’t have said that, but now you were cutting deep.

“Psychotic? A baby?”

“Yup and yup. Did you ever stop to think maybe I had a stressful day, and maybe I was looking forward to watching my stupid fuckin’ show all day? I’m sorry, Harry, but you’re wrong. Now leave me alone.”

“I’m not bein’ psychotic.” He pouts. 

“Oh my god!” You stand up and turn the TV off. You whip the remote on the couch and stomp off to the bedroom.

“What are you doin’?” He follows you to the bedroom.

“This is what you wanted right? I’m going to bed with you. I’ll just watch the rest during my lunch break tomorrow. Now I have to text Niall not to tell me who Peter’s sending home.” You were texting him furiously. You go into the bathroom and slam the door shut. You come back out after finish your routine and get into the bed.

“Now you’re going to bed upset with me.” He says sitting up in the bed.

“I can’t fucking win with you tonight!” You feel tears prick at your eyes. “Do you want me to go to sleep with you or not?!”

“I wanted to have sex earlier and you wanted to watch TV instead.” You grab the pillow behind you and scream into it, then set it back behind you.

“Harry, I didn’t feel like it.” His mouth forms into a straight line. He really couldn’t comprehend it.

“Because you wanted to watch another guy make out with over twenty women?” You pinch the bridge of your nose with your thumb and forefinger.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” You sigh heavily again. “You’re exhausting, you really are. I’m here, in the bed with you, just like how you wanted.”

“S’not how I wanted.” You blink at him, and turn over. You grab your earbuds and plug them into your phone and put them in your ears. “What are you doin’?”

You don’t say anything, you put on one of your playlists, and start scrolling on your phone.

“Hello? Really, the silent treatment over something so stupid?”

You feel tears roll down your cheeks. You hear him groan and he turns the light off. He stays sitting up in bed with his arms crossed. He could faintly hear your music, but couldn’t quite make it out. He was acting like a baby. He was exhausted and you had denied him. He wanted attention, and you didn’t give it to him. He was wrong to have said that about your parents, but you’re not the only one to have parents that were split up. Although something tells Harry he grew up in a much happier home than you did. Great, now he feels terrible. He hears you sniffle. Fuck. He made you cry.

“Babe?” He places a hand on your hip.

“Go to bed, Harry.”

“I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.”

“Okay.” You switch your phone to your Hulu app so you can keep watching the show.

You went to bed with Harry, but he didn’t get his proper cuddle. He knew it was his fault. You fell asleep with your headphones in, and woke up with them tangled around you. You put them and your phone on your night table. It was around four in the morning. Harry was asleep facing you. You turn to face him. You felt bad about getting so worked up earlier in the night. You lightly brush his cheek with your hand, and snuggle up next to him.

You rest your forehead against his chest, and your hand on his hip. You feel his arm drape over you. You put one of your legs over his, and he moves his leg between yours.

“Hi.” He says opening his eyes.

“Hi…I hope you don’t think I think a TV show is more important than you.”

“No…I’m sorry about all of it. I shouldn’t have said that about your parents.”

“It’s alright.” You snuggle into him further.

“I know I can be kind of…needy sometimes. And I was bein’ cranky from just bein’ tired.”

“But I like how you are, I like when you want me. You’re so cute.”

“You called me a baby…” He pouts.

“I did…it’s not a lie, you are a baby, but you’re my baby.” You sigh into him. You feel him chuckle against you.

“Just don’t say it in such a mean way again.”

“Okay.”

He moves his hand and tilts your chin up so you look at him. You close your eyes and kiss him. He pulls you closer and deepens the kiss. You roll your hips against his thigh and groan into his mouth.

“Harry, please make love to me.” You whisper.

“Won’t you be too tired for work later?”

“Don’t care.”

You roll over onto your back and pull him with you. He kisses you again, and nips at your jaw and neck. He plants wet kisses on you while his hand roams between your legs. He rubs up and down your slit, getting you nice and wet. He pushes your legs apart as you give his hard cock a few quick pumps. You guide him in and he pushes inside. Your hands reach for his so you can intertwine your fingers. He rests them up above your head on either side your pillow. He slowly pumps in and out of you, and you wrap your legs around his waist. His thrusts were so and sloppy, and you were incredibly turned on. His head is buried in the crook of your neck.

“I hate when we fight.” You say into his year.

“Me too.”

“I love you so much, Harry.”

“I love you too. I’m sorry I was an asshole.” He grits is teeth when you start to move your hips along with his rhythm.

“I’m sorry I acted like a brat.”

He presses up hard into you, and stops moving so you can just grind back and forth on him. You squeeze your hands tightly on his as you feel your stomach start to tighten.

“Ah, fuck, Harry, Harry, shit!” Your release comes and he presses harder into you as you ride it out. You were full on panting. You tighten around him to hold on to your orgasm as long as you can.

“You like when I do that?”

“Yes, feels so good. Love the way I can really feel how hard you are.”

He bites down on your neck and your back arches. His hands tighten around yours as he thrusts in and out of you, chasing his own release. Every moan and groan that leaves his lips and goes into your year sends you. You feel your legs start to shake, and you come at the same time as him. He collapses on top of you and lets go of your hands. You go right for his hair and play with. He slowly pulls out of you and moves to lay on his side facing you. It was around 4:45 in the morning. You sigh and decide to just get up and shower. He grabs onto your hips and you giggle as he pulls your back to his chest.

“I need to pee.”

“Just stay and cuddle a minute, I didn’t go down on ya so you don’t need to be paranoid like ya usually are.” He nuzzles into your hair.

“Alright.” You feel your eyes flutter closed, but they soon open back up when you hear your alarm go off. You get up and turn it off. You groan as you shuffle into the bathroom to take a shower.

You were just washing your hair when you heard the door click open and the curtain shuffle open. Harry steps into the shower as you scrub the rest of the shampoo out of your hair. He waits for you to finish and you step aside to let him step into the water. He looks up at the shower head.

“Ever use tha’ before?” His voice was still raspy from the sleep and the sex. It was so sexy.

“Use what babe?”

“The shower head?” You blink at him, confused.

“You just saw me use it to wash my hair.”

“Not there, there.” He points to your crotch and your cheeks flush.

“Harry, I do not have time for this, I-“

“Just answer the question.”

“No I have not used my showerhead on to get off.”

“Would you like to?”

“Harry, out of all the time we’ve taken a shower together, why are you doing this now? I don’t want to rush to work?”

“It’s not even six yet, you have plenty of time.”

“But, I’ll need to blow dry my hair, and-“

“You didn’t answer my question.” He crosses his arms.

“Would I like to use it to get off? No, not really. Why are you offering to do it for me?” He grins at you and nods. “You just got me off, I’m good for the morning.”

“Good for the mornin’?” He chuckles. “You’re funny. C’mere.”

“Harry…”

“If you’re late to work I give you full permission to be mad at me all day and I won’t make a fuss of it, now.” He grabs your shoulders and moves you. He takes the shower head down and moves towards you.

You nearly ripped the shower curtain off the rod as you had one of the most intense orgasms ever. You thought using a showerhead was only something that worked in movies or porn. The way Harry maneuvered it was astounding. You got out of the shower and left him in there to do his thing. You put a simple outfit together, and started to dry your hair just as Harry was getting out of the shower. He punched your bum as he walked into the bedroom. He went into the kitchen to make a smoothie for the both of you. You end up only partially drying your hair. You braid back some of it and get it all in a ponytail. You put on some make up quickly and walk quickly into the kitchen. You smile when you see the smoothie.

“Mm, thank you.” You say as you take a sip. Harry wraps his arms around you and kisses you tenderly. “I really need to go. It’s my day to get coffee.”

“When did this little tradition of your start?”

“Pretty much when I first started. We both realized we were going to the same coffee shop, so we just started taking turns.” You shrug. You kiss him one more time.

“Do ya ever wanna play hooky?”

“Oh no, no, no.” You step away from him. “You’ve had enough influence over me today. I’m saving my vacation days for the move, remember? Another ten days and we’ll have a whole week off together in our new place.” You grab your smoothie and keys. “I’ll be home late, therapy session today.”

“Alright, have a good day, love you.”

“Love you too, baby.”

//

You get to work on time, somehow, and give Niall his coffee. He pulls you into his office quickly.

“What?”

“Your neck! Did you forget a scarf?” Your eyes grow wide and you take out your phone to look. You clamp your hand over the spot.

“Shit! I didn’t even notice. It happened really early this morning.”

“I have one you can wear, but it might look goofy.”

“I’ll try it. I don’t even have makeup with me to cover it up.” You groan. “Maybe I am getting too old for this.” He chuckles and hands you the scarf he wears with his jacket.

“Thanks, this’ll work fine.” You wrap it around your neck.

“Early mornin’ romp?” He smirks.

“Maybe.” You giggle. “We had a little fight last night, and we went to bed upset.”

“Oh yeah, you mentioned that when ya texted me. Did you see the rest of the episode?”

“Yes! So dramatic.”

“As always.”

“I was texting the girls too. We should all get together to watch it.”

“Great idea! Everyone can come to my place Monday.”

“I can’t wait to move and have a few days off to unpack.”

“You know if you need a couple days to work from home this week, I’m sure that would be fine. You’ve got a lot goin’ on with the move, class, and Harry’s birthday this weekend. Where are ya takin’ him again?”

“To where we went on our first date.”

“Oh my god, he’s gonne die.”

“I know! I can’t wait to take him out.”

//

Harry was sitting in a staff meeting, trying his hardest not to fall asleep. It’s not that he was bored, he was just genuinely tired.

“H, you could look a little more interested, you know?” His supervisor Christin says.

“Hm? Sorry, I had a long night.”

“Well perk up. You could at least act to be happy that we’re sending you down to Florida in the middle of winter.”

“I’m sorry what? I…I thought I wasn’t travelin’ much anymore.”

“Sorry, H, but I need you on this one. The assignment’s in the folder I handed out.” He looks around to everyone.

“When do I leave?” He sighs.

“In two weeks.”

“See, the thing is, I’m in the middle of movin’, and I had some vacation time put in-“

“We’re giving it back to you, and you can use it at another time.”

“Is there any particular reason I can’t go, and Harry can stay here?” Mariah asks.

“I need you hear on another assignment.”

“But, Harry really doesn’t want to travel. Him and his girlfriend-“

“Mariah, I don’t need to know about Harry’s personal life, neither does anyone else in this room. Harry, I know it’s not ideal, but I need you on this.”

“How long am I gone for?”

“About a week.” His heart sinks into his stomach. He just wanted to have the time off with you. And the thought of you spending the first night in your new place alone crushed him. He thought he was going to be sick. Everyone could see it on his face, except Christin.

“Okay.” He says looking down.

“H, listen, you’re going to be in Florida, try to perk up, hm?”

“Yeah.” He was biting the inside of his cheek, he needed to get out of there.

After the meeting he went right to his office and looked over the full assignment. He was actually going to be taking pictures of some really cool vegetation, the timing was just terrible. He wondered if he could ask to bring you with him, but he was sure that wouldn’t go over well. He could always pay for a plane ticket for you. He was so frustrated. He put his face in his hands at he started crying. Isaac noticed what was happening and made a call.

//

“Hi Trish, what’s up?”

“There’s a man on the phone for you from Plant Geo, his name is Isaac, do you want me to transfer him?” You’re slightly confused, and a little concerned.

“Um, yeah.” You wait a moment for the transfer to go through. “Hello?”

“Hi…Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“It’s Isaac, I work reception at Plant Geo.”

“Yes, I know. Is everything okay?”

“I think Harry could use you. He just got an assignment and he’s not taking it well.”

“Oh no! What kind of assignment?”

“I think they’re making him travel somewhere. He’s, um, crying.”

“Oh god, okay…um…I’m there. Thank you. How did you find my office number?”

“He’s mentioned where you worked before, just tried my luck with Google.”

You hang up and run down to Niall’s office.

“I’m taking an early lunch, something came up.”

“Everythin’ alright?”

“I’m not sure yet, I’ll keep you updated.”

You sprint down to your car and speed over to Harry’s studio. You get there in about twenty minutes. Harry had calmed down a little, but his eyes were red and puffy as he began working. Everyone knew to leave him alone. You park and get up the elevator. You wave to Isaac as you go right for Harry’s office. You don’t knock you just go right in.

“Oi, it’s polite to knock.” He looks over at you, and his face completely changes.

“Sorry ‘bout that Mr. Styles, I won’t do it again.” You give him a small smile. “What’s wrong baby?” You sit on his desk.

“How did you? I’m so confused.”

“Isaac called me at work, he said you were upset.” Harry looks over in Isaac’s direction.

“Tattle tale.” He sighs and looks at you. “I have to go to Florida the same week we were supposed to have off together.” He starts sniffling. “And I’m upset because I can’t stand the thought of you there all by yourself when we were supposed to be unpackin’ together.” He buries his head in your stomach and you stroke his hair.

“Harry, honey, it’s okay. I understand.” You try to soothe him as best you can. “You don’t need to feel bad. Maybe I can fly down too, what part of Florida are you going to?”

“Um.” He lifts his head and looks at the papers in the folder. “Near Port St. Lucie, I’ll be near the manatee habitat.”

“Hmm, on the east coast. Well, I could fly down and spend a few days with Nannie, and then I could come meet you or you could come to us.”

“But what about us unpacking and gettin’ everything together?”

“Harry, we can still fully move in when we planned to. And I don’t mind unpacking a bit without you.”

“But…I’ll miss our first night together there.”

“I’ll leave for Florida when you do.” You shrug.

“But the last minute ticket will be really expensive.”

“I can afford it. I have the time off already anyways, and getting out of the cold sounds nice. It’s nothing to be upset over.” You run your thumbs over his cheeks to wipe his tears away.

“You don’t mind that things are gettin’ a little messed up?”

“It’s not ideal timing, but I’ll take any excuse to go visit my grandmother.”

“Where’s she again?”

“On the west coast, in North Port. Only a couple hours from where you’ll be.”

He stands up and wraps his arms around you. You hug him close to you and just stand there hugging.

“You’re amazing, thank you for being so flexible.”

“Of course.” You kiss him on the cheek. “Don’t get mad at Isaac, I’m glad he called.”

“I would’ve just come to see you in a couple hours.”

“Yeah, but you would’ve been upset for that much longer.”

Christin comes walking over to Harry’s office.

“What the hell is going on?” You whip your head around to look at the woman.

“Christin, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.”

“Didn’t realize it was social hour.” She crosses her arms.

“Sorry, it was my fault, um, I grabbed something of his by accident this morning and I needed to drop it off.” You smile at her. “I’ll see you tonight, Harry.” You give his hand a squeeze and leave his office. You nod at Isaac on your way out.

“Heard she’s been coming around here a lot.”

“Only on lunch breaks, and it’s been like two times.” He crosses his arms at well. “Did you need somethin’?”

“We need to go over Florida.”

“We?”

“Yeah, I’m going too.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m your supervisor and I’m supervising the assignment.”

“Are your kids comin’ too?”

“I’m going to have my husband take the girls to Orlando and I plan to meet them there later on.”

“How nice for you.”

“Harry, if you hate it here so much, why don’t you quit?”

“I don’t hate it here, I just hate travelin’.”

“You used to love it.”

“People change, I don’t like it anymore.”

“Why? What happened?”

“Nothing specific.” He shrugs. “It’s fine, it’ll be fine, this is just a sort of stressful time. You could act a little more sympathetic ya know. There is such a thing as work-life balance.”

“You’re right, I didn’t mean to be insensitive. As long as I’ve known you, you never really had someone in your life you seemed to care about so much…I didn’t realize how serious this was.”

“I don’t exactly go around spilling my nonsense around. Her grandmother lives in Florida, she’s going to try to find a flight to go down there too and then we’re going to meet up.”

“That’ll be nice.”

//

“Well at least they’re not makin’ him go this weekend.” Niall says, diving into his lunch.

“I know…he was acting like it was the end of world. It’s really not a big deal.”

“He probably just felt like he was lettin’ ya down. It’s good you were able to get over there,”

“His supervisor wasn’t thrilled to see me.”

“Christin can be kind of shrill…I think she forgets what it’s like to be young sometimes.”

“She didn’t seem that much older.”

“She’s like thirty-five.”

“Ah.”

“Do you think you’ll need some extra vacation time?”

“Depends on the flights I’m able to book. I’m secretly kind of happy, I can’t wait to call Nannie to tell her.”

“She’s gonna be so happy to see you. So when will you guys actually move?”

“The plan was to be fully out of my place by next weekend, and then spend the week unpacking. He was really torn up about me sleeping there alone.” Niall’s face falls.

“That wouldn’t upset you?”

“Well, it’s not ideal, but it is what it is. He and I will be able to unpack and set up pretty easily since all of the boxes are clearly labeled.”

“Was your family plannin’ to help too?”

“My brother is coming with his truck, and my mom said she could help unpack the kitchen, so I’m really not worried about it. Just need to book flights now. Hopefully it won’t be too expensive with it being sort of last minute.”

“I have plenty of miles built up if-“

“Save them, please. Very kind of you though.” You smile at him. You sigh. “Do you think Harry will ever just freelance full time like Louis does?”

“No idea. I know he wants to do it eventually, but there’s so much uncertainty. His busy seasons are great, but when it’s slow, it’s slow. He’d have to do a lot to really keep the business goin’, he’d have to lease a studio space.”

“Our loft could easily be set up as a home studio.”

“Yeah, maybe for small projects, but do you really want a ton of strangers comin’ in and out?”

“Good point.”

“Real-estate isn’t cheap in this area. He’d need to put together a whole business plan, not that he doesn’t know how to do that.”

“He just seems to no enjoy his work.”

“He enjoys the work, just not the people.”

“It sucks how the people you work with can make you hate what you’re passionate about. It shouldn’t be that way. You and I are so lucky we have each other.”

“Grateful for it every day.”

//

You can’t wait to get home to Harry after your appointment with Dr. Mara. It was a great session. When you walk in, Harry was packing boxes according to your very specific list.

“Hi baby.” He turns around to look at you.

“Hey.” He comes over and wraps his arms around you.

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah, thanks.” He kisses your cheek. “He was Dr. Mara?”

“Good! She says hi.” You giggle and let go of him. “What do you feel like eating tonight?” You ask, walking into the kitchen. He follows you and sits at the island. “Well? I’ll make whatever you want.”

“Really only one thing I’d like to eat right now.” He rests his chin on his palm.

“Okay, well if it’s takeout that’s fine. I can pick up whatever.” You weren’t picking up on what he was putting down. He sighs. “What?”

“Babe.” He gives you his bedroom eyes and your face flushes immediately.

“Oh!” You look at him and then the fridge. “Okay, but I’m legitimately hungry…”

“We can have food after.”

“Okay.” He perks up. “Where do you want me?”

“Take your pants off and go lay on the sofa.”

You do as he says. He comes over to you, and just admire your body. His thumbs spread you apart, and your hips buck up when you first feel his tongue on you. You felt bad, you should be the one tasting him, but he wanted to forget about everything and get lost in you. You feel yourself get even more turned on when you hear him groan against you. His tongue licks a flat stipe up your center, and then he lick up into you. Your hands grasp at his hair.

“Fuck.” You gasp as he swirls his tongue around inside you.

His thumb moves up to your clit and rubs slow circles on it. He was taking his time with you. That was the thing about Harry, he knew how to get you off quick, and he knew how to move at an agonizingly slow pace to get you there just the same. This was one of those time where he just wanted to savor every last bit of you. You looked down to see him nose deep, and totally in another state of mind. He pressed harder on your clit as he rubbed on it and you started to grind against his tongue.

“Feels so good babe.” You moan, throwing your head back. His free hand presses down on your stomach adding to the pressure of it all. “Harry.” You start panting his name. “Harry.” It’s music to his ears. If he could hear one sound for the rest of his life, it would be this. “Harry!”

Everything goes white for a moment, and stars come into your vision. He doesn’t let up though, he continues to suck on you. He gulped up every last bit of your release, and was hoping to give you another one until your phone rang. You saw it was your Nannie.

“Harry, fuck, I need to answer that.” He slowly lifts from between your legs and sighs. You clear your throat before answering. “Hi Nannie!”

“Hi precious girl, I got your message.”

“Will that week work for you? I know it’s short notice.”

“Nannie’s actually going to have company for a few days that week, so I don’t think it’ll work. But, if you wanna come the week after?” Your face falls.

“That won’t work, I only have this particular week off…”

“I’m sorry baby, your cousin and his kids are coming to visit, it’s their school vacation.”

“That’s alright, I’m glad they’ll get to see you.”

“Maybe you could come to Aruba again this year.”

“I didn’t think you had fully committed to going.” You perk up.

“I decided a little while ago. You should come if you can, I think your mom is planning on it too.”

“It’ll be just like last year! Okay, I’ll talk to mom. I’d need to book that like now.”

“Yeah, the airfares are decent now, I can text you the dates.”

“Okay! This’ll be so much fun, I’m looking forward to it.”

“Sorry we won’t see each other this month.”

“It’s okay, really. Aruba sounds amazing right now anyways.”

“Okay sweetie, well I need to go, but I love you.”

“Love you too!” You sigh and look at Harry. “So…I’m not going to Florida, I’m sorry. My cousins are visiting with her that week.”

“You could come with me, and stay at my hotel.” You put your hand on his shoulder.

“Harry, I would be bored out of my mind while you worked all day. It’s really short notice, I’ll just stay here.”

“What was that about Aruba?”

“She’s going again this April, and she wants me to come, so I think I will. It’s so much fun.” You stand up and pull your underwear and pants back on. “It’s not the end of the world. I won’t unpack anything you don’t want me to.”

“That’s not the point.” He sighs.

“I know. Sometimes we can’t always get what we want though, babe. Besides, it’ll be nice for us to miss each other a little, don’t you think.” You go over to the fridge and take out some carrot sticks to munch on.

“I miss you enough during the day as it is.” He pouts.

“Harry…”

“I know, I’m actin’ like a baby.”

“It’s only a week. We can FaceTime every night if you want. I can walk you through the apartment, and we can leave our phones on until we fall asleep. You can even still read to me if you want.”

“Do you have enough vacation time to go away in April?”

“Yeah, I have plenty.”

“My family is probably comin’ in April for Easter.”

“That’s usually when we’re in Aruba.”

“Will you have enough vacation time for the summer? I want you to come back to England with me for a couple of weeks.”

“Yeah I should have enough. Besides, they’d probably let me flex time if I didn’t have enough. I could just work remotely over there.”

“How do you stay so calm about all this?”

“In the grand scheme it’s not a big deal.” You shrug, chomping on another carrot. “I’ll miss seeing your mom and Gemma when they come. But at least we’ll have a nice guest space for them!” You say cheerily.

“Suppose you’re right. C’mon, can’t have eatin’ carrots for dinner. How bout I make us some soup?”

“You’ve had a long day. Why don’t I make dinner, and you go play a video game or something?”

“That’d be great, some of my friends might be online.” You give him a quick kiss and get to work.

You had heard someone jokingly say once that your boyfriend or husband was essentially your first baby. You always that that was a weird thing to say because a man should be able to take care of himself. But today Harry literally felt like your baby. You felt this overwhelming need to protect him at all costs, and you knew you’d pounce on anyone what tried to hurt him.

“Oh Harry!”

“Yeah babe?” He says from the couch.

“After dinner, I’d like to return the favor.” You wink at him.

“Best kind of dessert there is, isn’t it?”

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #403

“ashes to ashes, watch me disappear”

If given the opportunity, would you like to star in a musical? Definitely not. I don't like musicals. Name one person you’d take a bullet for: There's honestly a lot, but Mom immediately came to mind. Any posters of a band on your bedroom wall? Yeah: Metallica and Marilyn Manson currently. I want lots more, especially an Ozzy one. Do you think you’ve already met your soulmate? I don't believe in soulmates. Do you share your bedroom with anyone? No, unless you include my cat and snake. Is your favorite color yellow? No, it's actually one of my least favorites. Were you born in a hospital? I was. Do you know the name of the person that delivered you? No, but Mom does. I think he delivered me and my two sisters, and I know Mom has seen him since for other reasons. Was your birth recorded? God no. Good call, Mom. Did you eat a peach this week? Would you believe me if I told you I had a small bit of peach pie for my sister's birthday? For some reason, I just really wanted to try some. It was okay, but the aftertaste sucked. Are you leaving the house tomorrow? Yes, for TMS therapy. Every weekday. Do you enjoy romantic movies, even when they’re cliche? I honestly do. If you could get free vocal lessons would you take them? Probably not. I don't like singing in front of anyone, and it's not like I wanna get anywhere with my singing, so. Is your mother diabetic? She is. Are you? No. Ever sang someone to sleep? No. Who do you stalk the most through Facebook? Nobody. Have you ever deleted your Facebook, then brought it back? No. What is your main responsibility each day? Be sure to take my medications. Do you feel like you fulfill those responsibilities? Yeah. There are rare mornings where I forget, but I almost always remember. I don't fw skipping out on meds that keep my mental health stable. When was the last time you used spray paint? Good question. Do you know the middle name of the last person you kissed? Yep. Who is the friendliest person you know? My mom, probably. Something that annoys you about summer: THE HEAT. THE HUMIDITY. UGH. Something that annoys you about winter: Hm. That's hard to say, given I love winter. I guess the fact it doesn't snow enough here. Are the doors of your fridge side by side or on top of one another? Side-by-side. If you’ve moved out of the house you were born in, do you know the people who live in that house now? Nope. Have you ever cried in a movie theater? Not sobbed or anything, but I've definitely teared up and gotten the sniffles because of multiple movies. Do you read comic books? No. Do you force your way into conversations in which you are not involved? No. Have you ever seriously pretended to be clinically insane? I didn't need to pretend; I'm pretty damn sure I was for a while. Might I add that it's EXTREMELY inconsiderate to pretend you're insane, btw. Insanity is not "cool." It's not "funny." It's not "edgy." It's a serious, confusing, heart-wrenching issue that can ruin lives. Do you know anyone with a stutter? Yes, myself included when I'm even mildly nervous. And sometimes just randomly. With a lisp? I don't believe so. What was the last board game you played? The Disney version of "Pretty Pretty Princess" w/ my niece and even my nephew, even though his sexist-ass dad didn't want him to. Like let your kid have some fun with his sister and aunt, goddamn. They had a blast. It was Aubree's birthday present from me, so I am SO glad she loved it. Did you win? Ha ha, no, I always let Aubree or Ryder win. I came super close once, but I let the kids bend the rules a bit. They don't like losing, and even though they definitely need to understand that just happens and is totally fine for it to, I wasn't about to be the one to make them sad about it. When was the last time you tried to speak with an accent? OH MY LAAAAAWWWWWWD. Also at Aubree's b-day party, at one point, I spoke in a snobbish British accent while I was winning at the aforementioned game. Ryder asked, "Why are you speaking Spanish?", and I fuckin DIED. Have you ever made up a word before? Yeah, I know at least a few instances for fantasy animals in writing. When was the last time you went to a museum? A couple summers ago when my brother and his son visited, we went to a science museum. My nephew was sooooo into it. Do you have a nice yard? If so, do you spend a lot of time outside in it? If not, where do you go when you want to relax outdoors on nice days? Our front and back yards are both small and honestly very boring. The grass is a pretty green, but that's the only nice thing about it. I don't go to sit outside here on any day. Do your parents enjoy any of the things that you enjoy? Do you bond over these things? My parents and I have very similar music tastes, so there's that. I also didn't know for the longest time that Mom likes to write, which I sure as hell do, too! She doesn't really write anymore though, and she's self-conscious of it anyway, like I am. She and I also love a lot of the same shows. What is the movie that you have waited the longest for/which film do you remember anticipating the most/are still anticipating? I think The Incredibles 2. I aaaalways wanted to know what happened after the end of the first film. Do you have any ideas for a story or movie you’re planning to write or you’d write if you had the time/had the talent? Please share a synopsis! I genuinely think some RP I've written is series-worthy, but I don't feel like re-writing the YEARS of RP into a book format, and I sincerely worry that the ridiculously dark parts could inspire people like serial killers and cause A LOT of controversy, crime-blaming, and just general hate. I don't want to be involved in that. What is something that an interested guy/girl could comment about you, that would make you instantly open to them (e.g., “That book you’re reading is from my favorite author”)? Compliment my Markiplier tattoo, obviously knowing it's a tribute to him, and we're essentially besties. Is there a person in your life (maybe barely) that you feel in constant competition with (even just in your imagination)? Maybe you feel they are consistently outshining you? Ugh... there's a local photographer that's much more successful than I am that I admittedly am very envious of. I swear to whatever god you may believe in that I mean it from a modest perspective, I really, really do, but I genuinely think my skills surpasses hers, and she's only more prevalent because photography REALLY is about who you know. She's talented, yes, but like... come on. If you are single, even if you are normally happily single, are there certain specific things you witness that make you wish you were in a relationship (e.g., people getting engaged)? I mean yeah. I miss cuddling, holding hands, kissing, just being cute together, and especially people getting engaged or having kids. It's such a trigger to me. Once upon a time, that's all I wanted with Jason. I wanted to be that beautiful couple that got married and had two or three loved-beyond-words children, but then he left so abruptly, and I feel like it was so brutally robbed from me. I don't want kids anymore like at all, but the point still stands that I felt like my dreams were just ripped away. Out of all your usernames for websites, which one is your favorite? Do you use it for more than one site? I use "Ozzkat" just about everywhere. Have you ever spent the whole day (or multiple days) just looking up one thing on the internet (e.g., videos of your favorite band, how-to videos, quizzes, etc.)? OHHHHHHHHHH YEAH. There have been a couple days or so where I was totally glued to looking up various tattoo designs, bingeing let's plays or conspiracy theory videos, etc. etc. If you ever think about getting married, what are some aspects of the wedding that you would like to see in a non-traditional manner (e.g., a different color dress or “partners” over “husband” and “wife”)? I WILL NOT get married in a church, first of all. I'm also not having the traditional vows, and I probably won't wear a white dress, but instead black. Salt & vinegar, barbecue, sour cream & onion, or cheddar? Ohhhh, I like all those options but barbecue. I think I've gotta go with sour cream & onion, though. Bow ties on guys, dorky or adorable? A D O R A B L E ! ! ! I think they're ordinarily geeky, but I mean, geeky is cute in my world. :^) Do you believe in demonic possession? How about ghosts? Angels? Angels, no. Spirits/ghosts, 100%. I don't exactly believe in demons, per se, but I do question if evil spirits can possess someone. What is one romantic movie that you enjoy enough to watch more than once? I've seen The Notebook numerous times. Name three countries you want to visit; why those three? South Africa to interact with meerkats at the KMP, somewhere up in Canada to see the Northern Lights, and Germany just because, really. I took German for four semesters, and the culture and all just interests me. Do you have a good luck charm? No, considering I don't believe they do jack. Do you use Skype to talk to your friends? Only Sara. Now that I have Discord semi-figured out now though, we'll probably use that for voice chatting. Are you allergic to any animals? I might be allergic to dogs. Do you usually spend your weekends out, or at home? I'm like... always at home. Do you think it’s wrong for people to say "retard/retarded" as an insult? Absofuckinglutely. Don't pull that shit when I'm around. Have you ever had to go to the police department? No. Have you ever lived through a hurricane? Plenty. Have you ever had a home-grown tomato? Yes, from my old friend's garden. We'd have delicious tomato, mayo, and bacon sandwiches. The only instance where I've enjoyed tomatoes. Have you ever held a real gun? The former friend I mentioned just before, her husband always carried a gun, and he just needed me to hold it for a sec for some reason I don't recall. I hated the feeling. Would you rather wear Converse or Vans? I like both, but I think I prefer Converse. Have you ever been called bipolar? Yes, because I clinically am. Have you ever made fun of a handicapped person? FUCK no. And like the "retarded" thing, don't you fucking DARE to do this in front of me. I WILL deck the shit out of you. Do you think it’s okay to have sex before marriage? Sure, as long as you're being safe and are very thorough in communication. Do you like to watch old sitcoms? I don't really watch TV as I say in like every survey it seems, but I do enjoy some old sitcoms I grew up watching with my mom, like The Nanny, The Golden Girls, The Munsters, etc. If asked, could you run a mile nonstop right now? Being completely serious, I don't even know if I CAN physically run right now. My legs are so incredibly weak, and I'm humiliatingly close to what my heaviest weight was back in 2016, so I can almost guarantee my knees would crumple if I tried. Do you wear those rubber wristbands? I used to. I don't really like bracelets nowadays. If a necklace/ring gives you green marks, do you still wear it? Nope. Have you ever driven an electric car? No. When was the last time you saw someone you went to high school with? Uhhhh idk. What breed was the last dog you saw? A fucking GOLIATH of a lab. I shit you not when I say my sister's roommate's dog Hudson is the size of a goddamn bear. How long have your parents been together (or how long were they together, if they no longer are): I wanna say they were together at the very least 20 years. What has been your most epic cooking failure? I once accidentally put something (I don't remember what) in the microwave for around 45 minutes I believe, and I walked away and completely forgot about it. I remembered a long while later, and safe to say, it wasn't edible, whatever it was, lmao. Have you ever been to Mexico? No. Have you ever had a parrot sit on your shoulder? No, but that'd be cool. Has anyone in your life ever treated you abusively? No. How long has it been since your last breakup? Somewhere around two years ago? My memory is so garbage nowadays. Can you concentrate well while listening to music, or do you find it distracting? It's distracting, usually. What’s something you’ve been struggling with lately? I've been pretty bad about drinking too much soda lately. :/

[dailyaudiobible]

02/06/2021 DAB Transcript

Exodus 23:14-25:40, Matthew 24:29-51, Psalms 30:1-12, Proverbs 7:24-27

Today is the 6th day of February welcome to the Daily Audio Bible I'm Brian it is a joy to be here with you today as we approach the end of another one of our weeks together. And when we conclude our reading for today, we will have completed nearly…nearly a full week of the month of February. So, it is exciting to be on this journey and take the next step forward, which will lead us back into the book of Exodus. And if we remember we are at the mountain of God. We are with the children of Israel surrounding Mount Sinai. God is speaking and beginning to lay out some of the principles and rituals and laws that He is integrating as He weaves together the tapestry of the Hebrew people. So, we’re reading from the Voice Translation this week, which is today. Exodus chapter 23 verse 14 to 25 verse 40.

Prayer:

Father we thank You for Your word. We thank You for another week and it. They’re just kind of…well. They’re moving by day by day step-by-step they’re moving by as they should but we’re recognizing that we’re moved into this new year. This is our year to live and You are instructing us. And we thank You for the word over this year, to “Mend”. This is this year of mending. And, so, we hear what was written in the Psalms today, the 30th chapter - “Eternal one, my true God, I cried out to You for help. You mended the shattered pieces of my life.” That is our prayer God. Some of us came into this new year unrecognizable completely shattered into a billion pieces and some of us feel that way right now. But this isn’t a matter of degree. It’s not like we’re trying to measure up to see whose more shattered here. We’re all broken, and we've all got shattered pieces in our lives, we have shattered pieces in our hearts. Life has dealt us some blows. It does this to everyone. And we are instructed to love You with our whole heart, and we confess that there are broken pieces of our hearts. Come as is in the Psalms. We cry out to You for help. You mend the shattered pieces of our lives. So, as we release this week as it becomes a part of our history, we look forward into the future for You to mend the shattered pieces of our lives. Come Holy Spirit we pray in the name of Jesus. Amen.

Announcements:

dailyaudiobible.com that is home base, that is where you find out what's going on around here. And an alternative to that would be the Daily Audio Bible app, which you can also find out what’s going on around here. So, stay…stay connected.

Be aware of the Community section, be aware of the Prayer Wall. Visit the Prayer Wall. Be aware of the resources that are available in the Daily Audio Bible Shop.

And if you want to partner with the Daily Audio Bible I…I can't thank you enough. I Can't thank you enough. We wouldn't be here if we were not in this together. I…I say that often say that often because it's the truth. So, thank you for your partnership. There is a link on the homepage. If you're using the app you can press the Give button in the upper right-hand corner, or the mailing address is PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174.

And, as always, if you've a prayer request or encouragement hit the Hotline button in the app. No matter where you are on this planet hit the Hotline button in the app and you can share from there or you can dial 877-942-4253.

And that's it for today. I’m Brian I love you and I'll be waiting for you here tomorrow.

Community Prayer and Praise:

Hi this is Renzo from Maryland. I just wanna pray for the girl on the other line. This is February 1st. I just want to pray for the other girl on the other line that said her mom was a drug addict and she was 13 years old. I just want to say that's amazing that you’re on here reading the gospel at 13 years old. Keep keep…doing that. That's amazing. And I just pray for your mom right now. Father God I just thank You for everything that You do for us and I just please pray God that her mom just recovers from this addiction God. I believe You can heal anybody's addiction God. You’ve healed mine. You’ve healed my addiction to porn God, and I thank You that You healed that for me, and I've been clean for almost two years now and I thank You God that You did that. And, so, please just help her to just get closer to You God and just forgive her of what she did. Sometimes it’s so hard for us to forgive and that's how it was for me God. I just thank You for You for everything that You do for us God and we love You in Jesus’ name we pray. Amen. God bless you have a good rest of your day.

Hi this is Tiffany at first time caller from Cleveland OH. I've been listening every day this year and I pray with you daily. I feel so close to the DAB family and I thank you Brian for your love. Today I ask for prayer for my husband Tony and I. February 24th will be seven years since our daughter Janna's death. Our grief is difficult through this month as we remember our girl gone too soon. Grief also affects my ability to focus. Please pray for me to love my husband, to feel, to focus, and to be a good mom to my living children. Thank you in advance.

Good morning Daily Audio Bible this is Emily from Minnesota and actually this is my first year doing DAB. I started January 1st and I found it to be such a blessing. I have been hit with a bit of suffering the past couple of years period. It started with my son who died by suicide his freshman year of College in his dorm. And my family really wants…doesn't want to go to God for this. So, I am just simply embracing Jesus to carry me through. And then also my parents and my two brothers they've all been hit pretty hard. My mom was placed in memory care last year upstate when Covid hit in March and my dad is living independently but is showing strong signs of dementia and isn’t really willing to accept a lot of help. My younger brother lost his wife to cancer November 30th with a young family of four. And I have an older brother who appears to be struggling with addiction and homelessness. I just want to ask you all to lift up my family. I just do the best I can and rely on Jesus to carry me through each day each step. It's rough some days. And I know He has a plan and I know…I know God knows and I would just to ask for your support in my journey. Thank you.

Hey, my supportive DAB family this is Kingdom Seeker Daniel. Family, support is absolutely what I need right now. The short of it is I received a call from my ex-wife which is a miracle all by itself. She was very distraught and informed me that our son Daniel the 2nd, basically snapped and was admitted into a psych ward. And I guess they were trying to prescribe some meds to him, and he refused. But at any rate after several attempts to reach him I finally got a chance to talk with him and he did not sound like my son, did not sound like my son at all and I just need your prayers. I’m believing God to rescue my boy from this place that he's in. And, so, I'm asking if my family would come around Daniel Christopher young the 2nd? My ex-wife also informed me several years later that my…my youngest Hannah was assaulted twice. Why she chose not to tell me until eight years later I don't know but needless to say Hannah is in a bad place as well. My oldest Bianca is confused with her identity sexually. And, so, family will you please pray for my children. Bianca, and Daniel, and Hannah.

[singing starts] Oh, my Savior I am so grateful I'm Yours. Oh, my Savior I am so grateful I'm Yours. With every new sun that rises Your mercy it meets me there. Your faithfulness is unchangeable. You always love me and care. Oh, my Savior I am so grateful I'm Yours. Oh, my savior I am so grateful I'm yours. [singing stops] I lift this offering up to you Jesus and I ask Lord that you would cover the Daily Audio Bible family with your blood, that you would fill them to full and overflowing with your Holy Spirit, that you would protect them, keep them safe, bless them. And father God let us enter deeper into your presence. Great is your faithfulness. We love you so much. In Jesus’ name we ask these things. What a miracle. I love you Treasured Possession.

Well, hello everybody and congratulations you finished your first month listening to the DAB. Job well done. That is awesome. So, welcome all new listeners and of course us long time listeners this is Lori music the transplant from Chicago down to beautiful Hebrew Springs Arkansas. Lord I'm just coming to You and we’re thanking You for the people that do call in and share their stories and prayer requests and many of them just break my heart Father God, but I pray immediately for You all. But I'm calling today to come before the Lord with the unspoken prayer requests, the ones that people are too shy or timid to call in and request. So, Father You know these unspoken prayers Father God. You know our hearts You know our needs You know our wants and our desires Father. So, I'm asking a special blessing on those people that haven't called in yet and that You answer their prayers Father God. And Lord You know I've been out of a job since November, but I know that Your timing is perfect Father. So, every day when I wake up, I will say this is the day that the Lord has made I will rejoice and be glad in it. Oh wow, so, I'm starting my 11th year on DAB and my second year on Chronological. I pray for Brian and Jill and China, give them special blessing father. We love you all. Have a blessed day.

[nate-santos]

Am I Alive? || Nate & Remmy

Nate didn’t often let people into his life. The few friends he had were the result of long and tiresome interactions as they slowly infiltrated his careful barriers. His own assistant had never been to his house and never knew where he was from. But something about Remmy felt...familiar. They’d both been through hell, though Nate would never pretend to know what war was like. They seemed like kindred spirits, and Nate wondered if he might actually have found someone who could compliment his neuroticism. Plus he knew better than most how hard it was to acclimate after a traumatic event and he wanted to help any way he could. So he donned his puffiest coat – offering more cushion should something happen. He also made sure to grab his sturdiest umbrella, one that he’d reinforced should any fish come flying down at him. The medical examiner had said four people had died so far, and Nate was not gonna be the fifth. After carefully making his way to Coffee Plus, he set up his little area and ordered a latte, waiting patiently with his hands cupped around his mug for his potential employee to arrive.

The offer for another job was extremely enticing, but Remmy would have to make sure it didn’t pay too much, because they could lose their disability if it did. And then, no more writing off Moose’s food, no more HSA, and no more cheap meds. But Nate seemed like a really nice guy, and he seemed to know how Remmy felt. How hard it was to reintegrate into society after witnessing something that inherently changes you. Inside and out. This time, they made public transport didn’t make them late but catching the bus early. Coffee Plus was the station they’d met Deirdre outside of, and if they didn’t get thrown in front of a car again, then it would already be a better meeting. They’d even tried their best to clean themself up this time. Combed their hair, put on their best jeans-- the only pair with no holes or rips-- and their nice jacket. When they arrived, they had to pause a moment outside, give themself that little pep talk that usually given in front of a bathroom mirror. But Remmy’s room didn’t have a bathroom mirror, despite the landlord saying they were going to replace it two weeks ago. The little bell chimed as Remmy pulled the door open and they glanced around. There, in the corner. Right wher eNate had said he would be. He looked almost as nervous as Remmy felt, bundled up in a puffy coat, tucked into a corner, cupping his coffee. They waved as they approached tentatively. “Nate?” they asked. “It’s um-- Remmy. Hi.”

A large grin spread across Nate’s face as Remmy appeared. Thank god they actually showed up. He shifted in his seat and motioned for them to sit. Nervously, his hands fumbled with the pages of one of his old sketchbooks, one that before this morning he hadn’t looked at in years. It made him want to start drawing again, drawing things that weren’t buildings at the very least. He’d have to thank Remmy for reminding him how much he’d loved doing it. “Hey! Nice to meet you!” He held out his hand, careful not to bump into anything. “I’m so glad you came! You want something to drink?” Nate caught his usual barista’s attention and waved her over. “I personally like the lattes, but everything’s really good!”

Remmy noticed the way Nate stayed tucked into himself and close to the table, but didn’t think it was anything they needed to point out or think about. They took his hand, giving it a firm shake. His hand was large and warm and it reminded Remmy of Dario’s hand. They smiled back. “Nice to meet you, too! Finally.” They slid into the booth across from Nate, glancing around. The coffee shop was small, but had that busy, local atmosphere. It was different from any place they’d been in Bangor. “Oh, um, sure! I’ll just have a um...Americano? Thanks!” Looked back over to Nate once the lady took their order. They had their sketchbook tucked under one arm and their eyes fell onto the one Nate had on the table. “Thanks for um-- agreeing to meet me. And-and offering me a job. And...all that other stuff.”

Nate grinned and took a long sip of his coffee. “Really, it’s nothing. I uh, you seem like good people!” He chuckled nervously, trying not to think about how cold their hand was. He drummed his fingers on the top of his sketchbook and fell silent for a moment. It had been years since he’d shown his drawings to anyone when it wasn’t work related, but this...sort of was. “The job is mostly menial, nothing too exciting, but I could definitely use the assistance.” He shrugged, thinking about the kid currently interning for him. Bobby was next to useless, especially when it came to moving samples around the office. “But whether you take the job or not, I’m happy to have met you!” He began to slide his sketchbook over, his knee bouncing at a hypersonic rate. “Plus I never get to trade art with anyone! Not trade trade, but like...look over pieces...share, that sort of thing.”

“You seem like good people, too,” Remmy said back. This was nice. This felt nice. And normal. Pleasant, almost. They eyed his sketchbook, before setting theirs on the table as well, still holding tightly onto it. They’d never actually shown anyone else their stuff. Except some of the other officers at the camp. “Oh, um-- I’m not sure mine are gonna be really good enough to like...compare to yours, I’m sure. But I’m glad I get to see yours! I’ve never exactly….shared this kinda stuff before. Wasn’t exactly um-- encouraged in the troops.” Stop bringing the mood down, Rem. They shook their head. “But, I mean-- I’m good with menial things! And physical labor. Also good at running errands! Whatever you need! If um-- you decide you like me.”

Nate laughed, wringing his hands anxiously in his lap. “Oh, definitely no comparing here! That’s the worst thing artists can do, really. Everyone’s styles and strengths are so different, like…” He reached out and opened his book to a rather choppy looking portrait. “Soft lines, not my thing. But straight edges, flowing concrete, somehow that I can do.” A hand reached up into his hair and began to twirl. “I’m sorry you weren’t uh...encouraged. Art’s….soothing. Even if what you draw isn’t.” Nate had specifically not brought the book he’d kept right when he first found himself in White Crest. All the images in there were charcoal drawings of pure angst, sadness and desperation. These sketches weren’t great, but they at least weren’t morosely depressing. “Well I already think I like you!” Nate grinned, hoping he wasn’t coming on too strong. He hadn’t realized how desperately he’d needed something as normal as coffee and a job interview, even as lax as this was.

“Really?” Remmy asked. They leaned in a little more when Nate opened his book, gazing in with wide eyes. “Wow, that’s so good! You’re really good.” Hands tightening on their own book. “Oh, it-it’s okay. I don’t think I coulda done anything with it, anyway. I guess it just helps...occupy my mind. I don’t mean like..busy work, or whatever, but yeah-- soothing. Like you said, it’s...soothing…” They remembered how the group therapist had encouraged writing or drawing as an outlet. Remmy had taken quite to it. They liked drawing what they saw, copying down detail in an almost hyperfocus manner. “Well, I think I like you, too! You’re really nice and open and...not weird. If that makes sense? Not that weird is bad! I’ve just met a few...really weird people, too.”

Nate nodded, sucking down more of the hot bean juice. “Like I said, anyone can be an artist. Doesn’t matter if you do anything with it. Just so long as it makes you feel good.” He shrugged, his eyes falling to his lap and his cheeks flushing. Nate never could take a compliment. “I cannot promise that weird won’t end up popping up,” he laughed nervously. What was he supposed to say? I’m normal now but wait till I die in some freak accident and come back trying to eat your brains? “But I’m glad I’m not the weirdest person you’ve met here. I mean, I hope.”

“Hey, a little bit of weird isn’t bad. Don’t they say like, normal is boring or whatever?” Remmy grinned. “You’re not, definitely not. I think the woman I met who tried to push me into a car is the weirdest I’ve met so far.” They shrugged it off. Deirdre was a mystery they didn’t really wanna think about right now. The waitress came back with their order and they took it gratefully, taking a long sip. “Um…” they pushed their notebook over towards Nate, a little tentative, a little shy. “I-if you wanna look.” Though they would never admit it, as they weren’t sure of their own talent, their eye for detail gave them the ability to draw from life fairly well. Thin pencil lines, sketchy figures, and some doodles of animals riddled the sketchbook, an unorganized mess, unlike every other aspect of their life. Some drawings layered on top of others, like stacks of photos. They sipped their coffee again.

Nate smiled, a touch of sadness in his eyes. “I respectfully disagree with those people. I’d take normal over weird any day.” Nate’s life was already filled with too much weirdness. “Wait- like she was shoving you into a car or...throwing you in front of one?” Nate’s brow furrowed and he felt oddly protective over this person he just met. “Of course I wanna see!” He reached out, delicately turning the pages of the sketchbook. It was practically exploding with creativity. Lines and shades he’d seen but never really seen, it was so unlike his personal style and so refreshing. You could see real heart. “These are amazing, Remmington. Remmy? Which do you prefer?” He glanced up for only a moment before being sucked back into the book.

“Kinda...both? I’m not really sure. She said she wanted to test something and almost threw me into a taxi. It was fine, obviously, but I got kinda mad at her after that,” Remmy said, as if getting thrown in front of a car was a normal thing. In all honesty, it just didn’t strike them as odd. After all, they’d stuck their hands into a live case of TNT before. Was getting hit by a car really that much different? They felt their chest tingle as Nate delicately flipped through the notebook, suddenly so nervous they couldn’t even drink their coffee, just hold the cup tightly. “What? Really? Y-you think so?” Swallowed. “Oh, um-- either! Either is fine! I don’t mind.” They rolled their bottom lip between their teeth nervously. “I just...like drawing what I see. Nothing special…”

Nate’s mouth dropped open and he had to actively think about closing it so as not to be overly rude. “She- on purpose?? Yeah! I’d be mad too!” Nate nearly had a heart attack just thinking about the ordeal. But he looked back down to the drawings to distract himself. They were really good. Not professional, but that didn’t mean anything to Nate. He actually felt most professional artists were stuck up and rarely creative. “Yeah, Remmy, these are awesome!” He beamed up at them. “I like what you see.” It had been so long since Nate had really stopped to look around, flipping through Remmy’s sketches was like being unafraid to wander through town. It felt free. “You should keep this up. Seriously. Even if it’s just for you.”

Remmy couldn’t help but give a shy smile. “Th-thanks. I, um-- I will. I haven’t had much time lately between all the...stuff, but...I think I’ll try and make time.” They smiled over at Nate, finally relaxed enough again to sip their coffee. “So, um-- do you like, design the buildings and stuff? Or just do more like...blueprints stuff? I’m not-- sorry. I don’t mean to sound like...rude, but I’m not really sure what architects do, like a hundred percent? I’m totally willing to learn though!”

Nate cocked his head to the side. “Like all the getting shoved towards taxis?” He frowned, hoping Remmy wasn’t befriending people that would willingly shove them into oncoming traffic. It wasn’t entirely unheard of in White Crest, especially in the seedier areas. Yet another reason to never leave his house. “Oh, yeah! It really depends on the project, and most of what I get to do around here is restoring some of the town’s older buildings, making sure they’re up to code while maintaining the historical integrity of the design.” He smiled softly, taking another sip of coffee. “But every once in a while someone wants to build an entirely new house or business, then I get to flex my creative chops.” He sighed dramatically. “Those fun projects don’t tend to come around as often, though, so sometimes I just teach a class at the college.”

“Yeah,” Remmy sighed, “like that.” They still hadn’t parsed out Deirdre’s actual intention with doing that. Was it to see if Remmy would move? If they would let her? If they would get scare and run away? It still baffled them, but she hadn’t been eager to talk after that, so the answer would likely never come. So Remmy would concentrate on the here and now. “Wow, that’s so cool! I had no idea that’s what architects actually did...do you go to the houses and like actually help build stuff? Or do you just do more of the like...drawing and planning stuff?” They couldn’t help but be excited by all this. They’d always loved learning new things, even if public schooling had made them feel inadequate. “And you get to teach at the University?? That’s SO cool!”

Nate frowned, already feeling the twinge of protectiveness over this person he’d literally just met. Remmy had already been through so much, they needed a soft place to land, not a place where people literally threw them into oncoming traffic. But he would drop it- for now. Not like he was in any position to go hunting down this person, and to do what, exactly? Yell at them? Punch them? Neither of those things were in Nate’s wheelhouse. “I don’t do too much building, but I do get to visit the sites sometimes to help oversee everything! A lot of what I do is actually project management and organizing the construction crews, but I’ve gotten to know most of the crews around here pretty well, so they send me progress photos and stuff. It’s really cool to see an idea you have come to life right before your eyes.” Nate paused, smiling sheepishly to himself. “It’s really not that cool, most people find it kinda boring. But I love it.”

“Oh, I think that sounds amazing!” Remmy blurted, without thinking much. They reigned themself back in sheepishly. “Sorry. I just-- I don’t think it sounds boring at all! I think that sounds amazing. Getting to do something that actually changes the world around you...even if it’s just a building. And seeing it in progress? That’s just…” they trailed off a bit. “That’s incredible.” They took another long sip of the coffee, realizing it didn’t much taste like anything. It didn’t fill any sort of need inside of them. Not like it used to. “It sounds kinda lame but...when I was younger, I think I always wanted to do something that could, like, change things for the better. I guess that’s why I thought going into the military might...you know. Be like that.”

Nate’s eyes lit up. He so rarely spoke to anyone, let alone about his work, it was refreshing to be able to gush about it to someone who thought it was as interesting as he did. Well, maybe not as much, but at least Remmy was feigning interest! “I’m glad you think it’s interesting! I could definitely tell you more about it, and I mean, if you come help out, you’d get to see a lot of it first hand, too.” Nate knew exactly what they meant. It was the reason so many of his high school peers had enlisted, not knowing what else to do but needing and wanting to do something. He smiled softly, feeling his body loosen a bit from the tense ball it had been in. “I’m Sorry. If it wasn’t, I mean. Like that. Doing something for the better. Or that’s presumptuous- was it?” And he tensed right back up again as he stuck his foot in his mouth.

“Oh, yes! That would be great!” Remmy said excitedly. They had no idea someone would think they were just pretending, because Remmy didn’t have it in them to lie or pretend. “I’d love to learn all that stuff! Even if I’m no good at it, I think it’d be cool to know!” They sipped the coffee again, their legs twitching excitedly. Remmy had never been this excited before. Was this was it meant to find something they loved? “Oh, um-- I think it was, a little. I don’t um-- it’s hard to explain. I think there’s better ways to change things, but...it felt like my only option. I wasn’t the smartest or funniest or strongest. So...that was pretty much it.” They shrugged. “But, I mean-- as far as job offers go, I um-- think I’d be happy to come work for you. I-if you’re still looking.”

Nate sometimes felt like he was looking in a mirror when he talked to Remmy. They’d only known each other a short while, but he felt like he understood them in a way he hadn’t felt in a long time. Sure, some of that might be how excited they were about architecture, but it was something more than that, too. Nate remembered what it felt like to be so lost, heck he was still unbearably lost. But when he did what he loved, it wasn’t quite so unbearable. It was part of the reason he hadn’t tried to just end things. Seeing Remmy light up like this, it ignited something in Nate too. “I would be more than happy to have you join the team, Remmy.” He grinned, holding out his hand more confidently than before. “Welcome to the family.”

Remmy couldn’t remember the last time they’d been this excited. They couldn’t remember the last time they’d felt this hopeful. Sure, it was just an assistant job, helping out around Nate’s firm, but it was more than anything they could’ve hoped for in coming to White Crest. Being a security guard was easy and it paid the bills, but it wasn’t exactly the most riveting job. After being in the field for so long, Remmy had found life wasn’t exciting anymore. Remmy took Nate’s hand eagerly. “Thanks, Nate. Really, thank you so much.”

@whatsin-yourhead

[justliketherifle]

Trouble Always Finds Me Chapter 7

You woke up in Mac's arms on his bed. It was dark outside. Your stomach was hurting. You saw a glass of water and a bottle of pills on the bedside table. You tried to reach them, but it hurt too much. You gasped and Mac woke up.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, just trying to get my pain meds.”

“Oh, here.” He reached an arm across you and snagged the bottle, popping it open and handing you two pills. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got shot doing something stupid.”

“That move you pulled was pretty cool, actually.”

“Yeah? Learned it from Miss Congeniality.”

“Seriously?”

You rolled onto your back and nodded at him after taking the pills.

“Okay, once you're healed up, I want you to get some real hand-to-hand training.”

“That’s probably a good idea. I only know how to get out of most situations without hurting people. Physical Intervention Alternatives. They taught us that where I used to work.”

“That reminds me.” He grabbed his phone off his table and showed you a picture. “Your people are safe and they miss you.”

You teared up. “Thank you, Mac. I miss them too. What did you tell them?”

“Witness Protection. And that you have a new boyfriend. Sharon loved that.”

“I’ll bet she did. Can we stay in bed for a while?”

“Of course. Matty gave me a mandatory week off to stay with you.”

“That seems generous for her. I'll be sure to thank her later.”

“It is. She said to enjoy the honeymoon.”

You covered your face and laughed. “Of course she did.”

“Everyone sends their love. Your dad is coming by in the morning. Said to prepare for a Bruce Willis marathon.”

“Nice! We better have popcorn! Die Hard is my fave!”

Mac shook his head. “You really are your father's daughter.”

He leaned over and kissed you hungrily.

You pulled away, concerned. “Mac?”

He looked away. “When Murdoc shot you…I thought I was gonna lose you. It scared me to death.”

You took his face in your hands. “I’m right here. I'm okay.”

“I’ve never felt so much for someone so fast. It's a little intimidating.”

“The great Angus MacGyver is intimidated by me?”

He rolled his eyes. “Well when you say it like that…”

You kissed him, long and slow. “I was scared too. But I knew you'd save me. I’ve never felt like this before either. But after what happened, I know we can get through anything.” You laced your fingers with his and pressed your foreheads together.

“God, you're incredible.”

“Nah. I'm just me.”

You fell asleep like that, breathing each other in, comforted in knowing the other was safe and sound in your arms.

You were woken up rudely by your dad.

“Seriously? It's been two days!”

“Mac, I tried to stop him,” you heard Bozer say.

You both blinked the sleep out of your eyes.

“What time is it?” you groaned.

“11. And time for you two to explain this cozy little love nest.”

“Dad, we just fell asleep. Mac wanted to protect me. And he did. I'm fine.”

“Okay, all right. Just take it easy. Nothing strenuous.”

You put your hands over your face and groaned again. “Dad! Get out!”

You threw your pillow at him as Mac and Bozer laughed. They both left and you turned to your gorgeous boyfriend. He ran a hand through his hair.

“I am so sorry, babe,” you told him apologetically.

“It’s okay. I knew what I was getting into. And you're worth it.”

You smiled at him. “You’re the best.”

“I try. You stay here, I'll get Bozer to whip you something up for breakfast.” He leaned down and kissed you.

“Mmm, breakfast in bed. How can I say no?”

He held your hand until he walked away, smile on his lips. You smiled and sighed happily before slowly stretching out your arms and legs.

Mac came back and helped you sit up. “Hope you like Belgian waffles.”

“I love them!”

“Good.” He kissed you again. “Don’t think I'll ever get tired of that.”

“Me either, hot stuff.”

“Glad to hear it, beautiful.”

You absolutely melted. You gave him another sweet peck on the lips.

He sat down next to you and took your hand, giving it a kiss.

You leaned your head on his shoulder. “I’m really racking up the bullet holes lately.”

“Please don't joke about that.”

“Okay. I'm sorry.”

“It’s okay, I just…I don't even want to think about it.”

“I get that. Lucky for me, I've got a knight in shining skinny jeans.”

He huffed out a laugh. “How do you stay so positive?”

“I try to focus on what I have instead of what I don't.”

“That’s pretty amazing.”

You shrugged. “I just do what my mom taught me. Life sucks. But you still gotta live.”

“I wish I could have met her.”

“She would have given you a stern talk about not breaking my heart. Then hugged you and forced you to eat something because 'you are way too skinny, kid'.”

You both laughed.

“Well, she sounds like a great lady.”

“She was. She would have loved you. She always wanted me with someone who could keep me safe.”

“I take that part of my job very seriously.”

“I’ve noticed. My dad would probably kill you if you hurt me.”

“Which is funny, because he's said I’m like a son to him.”

You shut your eyes. “Ew. More like son-in-law now.”

“Sounds good to me.”

Jack came in with your food on a wooden tray. “Breakfast time! And then you and me are doing some good old fashioned father-daughter bonding. Mac and Boze can join, I guess.”

“Thanks, Dad. This looks great.”

He presented you with two giant waffles smothered in strawberries.

“Ugh, yes. Tell Bozer he's a god.”

“I will not,” Jack said.

“Bozer, you're a god!” you shouted with your mouth full.

“I aim to please!” he yelled back.

You stuffed your face like you hadn't eaten in days.

“Slow down, it's not going anywhere,” Mac said playfully.

“Shush, you. Why don't you two go eat? I'll be out in a minute.”

Mac looked unsure. “I'm not really comfortable with leaving you alone right now.”

“Same here, baby girl,” Jack added.

“Well then go get food and eat in here with me.”

They nodded and left to get their own plates. They returned with Bozer in tow. Mac sat on the bed beside you and Jack and Bozer brought over chairs.

You all ate in silence for a while, giving Bozer appreciative looks.

You sighed and put your fork down.

“That was delicious. Thank you, Bozer.”

“You are so welcome. There's more where that came from.”

“Well I can’t wait. Now tell me we have popcorn. Because I don't watch Willis storm Nakatomi Plaza without popcorn.”

Jack smiled at you. “That’s my girl!”

You gave him a fist bump and he carried you out to the couch. You settled in and waited for the others.

Sitting up was not doing you any favors however. You squirmed in your seat before Jack sighed and sat down, pulling you so you were laying down, head on his lap.

“I feel like such a baby,” you complained.

“It’s okay, you're allowed to let us take care of you,” Jack told you.

Mac and Bozer came into the living room, smiling at you.

You lifted your legs. “There’s room for you, Mac.”

He took a seat and laid your legs across his lap. Bozer popped in the first DVD and went to make popcorn.

“’Welcome to the party, pal,'” you said in your best Bruce Willis voice.

“’Just a fly in the ointment, Hans. The monkey in the wrench. The pain in the ass,'” said Jack.

You giggled at his impression.

Mac shook his head. “Hey Bozer, there's officially two of them!” he yelled.

You and your dad high fived as Bozer returned with two bowls of popcorn and started the movie. The four of you spent the whole time laughing loudly, throwing around quotes and pieces of popcorn.

You were halfway through Die Hard 2 when you drifted off, the voices of your family making you smile as you did.

You woke with a start, tears already staining your face. You'd had the same old dream, watching all your friends die.

“You okay there, sweetheart?” you dad asked, looking down at you.

“No. But when am I ever?” You sighed, swiping the tears away angrily.

“You get a lot of nightmares?”

“Too many. All the same. Blood, gunshots, death.” You pushed yourself up to a sitting position, groaning.

“Take it easy there.” He wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

You looked over and saw Bozer asleep in his chair and Mac passed out next to you. You smiled at the sight.

“You really like that boy, don't you?” Jack asked.

“I really, really do.”

“Two reallys. Wow. Well. Like I said on the heli, if it had to be someone, there's no one else I'd trust.”

You put your head on his shoulder. “I’m so happy to hear you say that.”

“I’m serious about killing him, though. You just say the word, honey.”

You smacked his chest. “Stop threatening my boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend though? Seriously? Already?” he said weakly.

“Yes. So deal with it.”

“All right, all right. At least I feel like I didn't really miss out on those crazy teen years.”

“Oh man, you and teenage me? You would've lost your mind.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Like I said, drugs, booze, sneaking out, slamming doors. The whole nine.”

“On second thought, I'm good with missing those.”

“I thought so.”

“Real talk, though, baby girl. I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you. You know I would have been if I'd known.”

“I know, Dad. But I can tell you all about it if you want.”

He smiled. “I would love that.”

You stayed up all night, telling Jack everything you could think of about your childhood. Your elementary school best friends, Cayla and Kayla, learning to ride a bike without training wheels at 7 because a neighbor boy called you a baby. Your dad said he'd would've had a serious talk with that kid. You laughed.

You talked about trips to Colorado and the Mall of America with your mom and the mini adventures you'd take. You hadn't talked about her much since she died. It was nice.

The both of you wound up falling asleep that way until a sharp pain in your side woke you up. You gasped and cried out, waking all three of the men.

“(Y/N)?” Mac said, rubbing his eyes.

“Hurts,” you said through gritted teeth.

“I'll go get your pills. Jack, you should lay her down.”

Jack set you down and stroked your hair. Mac returned with a glass of water and two more pills.

“I guess it could be worse. I've seen sucking wounds before. Emphasis on the suck,” you said, downing the pills.

“Yeah, I’ve dealt with those. They’re not pretty,” Mac added.

“Guess I’ve still got a chance if Murdoc escapes again.”

“Matty’s gonna do everything she can to keep that lunatic behind bars,” Bozer promised.

“Thank you. I'd like to thank all of you, actually. You've done so much for me. I don't know if I can ever repay you.”

“No repayment needed. You're Jack’s kid, Mac's girl, and my friend. I got your back.”

You stood up and gave Bozer a hug. Jack and Mac joined you, squishing you in a big group hug.

Just then, Mac's phone went off.

He answered it. “Hey Matty, what's up? Wait, what? Already? Crap, okay. We'll get her out of here.” He hung up and looked at you.

“I jinxed us, didn’t I?” you said warily.

“Murdoc just escaped.”

[thepokyone]

Antiseptic

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Reader

Content/Warnings: angst; a little fluff

Words: 1378

A/N: Woo, I’m proud of this one. It took me a couple days to write but I really like the angsty look into Billy’s head that it gives, so I hope you like it as well! And as for the anon who requested this, I better get bonus points for those tears. Where are my bonus points, anon.

The call came right as Billy was about to slip into bed. It was nearly midnight, so it was no surprise when Neil yelled at him to get the phone. Billy didn’t have the energy to argue, so instead he simply headed towards the other room to the phone. He picked it up, trying to stifle a yawn as he mumbled a greeting into the speaker.

“Billy?” He wasn’t sure he knew the woman on the other end of the phone, though she sounded vaguely familiar.

“Yeah,” He said. “Who’s this?”

“This is Y/N’s mom.” So that’s how he knew her. Though it still didn’t explain why she was calling in the middle of the night. “There’s been an accident. Y/N is in the hospital.”

It took his tired brain a moment to process the words. But realization was like being doused in ice water, electrifying his body and snapping him awake. “What?”

“S-She was hit by a drunk driver on the way home from a friend’s.” He realized that your mother’s voice was trembling. “She’s in surgery. The doctors say she’ll be fine, but… I thought you should know.”

Billy didn’t ask how your mom knew to call him. If there was one thing about families that he understood, it was that mothers know. They always know. With great effort, he finally spoke. “Thank you. For telling me. Do you want me to…?”

“Oh no, sweetie. No. You can come by in the morning, she’ll be out of surgery by then. Just stay home and try to get some rest, alright?” Her voice had the same pleading edge to it that yours often did when you wanted something from him. It was what persuaded him to agree, begrudgingly, to stay home. Even though his entire being felt like it was drowning, his legs weak and his lungs cement, the weight of the unknown pressing against him from all sides.

“Who was it?” Neil shouted as Billy shuffled numbly back to his room.

Billy fumbled with a lie and hoped his father wouldn’t question it. “Uh… wrong number.”

He didn’t hear a response, so his lie must have been believable. Even as he curled up underneath his covers, Billy knew he wouldn’t get any sleep. His body was tired but his mind was awake, panicking, reeling, trying to make sense of what had happened. Seconds were minutes and minutes were eons, oozing by and leaving him teetering on the edge of full-fledged, unbridled panic the longer they lasted.

Later, Billy would confess that he didn’t know how he made it through the night without completely breaking down. He would also say that it didn’t matter. As soon as the first rays of sunlight were peeking over the horizon, Billy was dressed and out of the door, tearing out of the driveway with a distinct lack of finesse compared to his usual driving style.

“Visiting hours don’t start until eight,” The receptionist told him. “You’ll have to come back later.”

“Please,” Billy said desperately, hands clenched so tightly around the edge of the counter that his knuckles had gone white. “She’s my girlfriend, she’s been in an accident, her mom said-”

“Billy?” Relief flooded through him as your mother appeared from the hallway behind the receptionist’s desk. She looked towards the receptionist. “It’s alright, he can come back. He’s practically family, anyway.”

The receptionist pursed her lips but nodded and handed him a visitor’s badge, which he had no hopes of clipping on to his shirt. His hands were trembling too much.

“Here,” Your mom said gently, taking the badge from it and clipping it on him.

“How is she?” Billy asked they walked towards your room.

“She’ll be okay.” The relief was clear in her voice. “She probably won’t wake up for a few more hours yet, and won’t be allowed to leave the hospital for another week at least. The doctors say it depends on how well she’s healing.”

Billy nodded, nerves settling. It still didn’t stop bile from rising to his throat when he saw you, pale and motionless against the hospital bed.

“Hey Billy.” Your father stood to greet him, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. It didn’t help. “I know she looks bad, but I promise the doctors say it looks worse than it actually is. According to them, they’ll be removing most of the tubing once she wakes up later.”

It still didn’t help. Billy didn’t like hospitals, they were too white and sterile and the strong antiseptic smell stung his nose. But he liked doctors even less, after his mother died in their hands, so he didn’t tend to take what the doctors said very seriously anymore. They had failed him before, and if they did again? His stomach churned at the thought, but he wouldn’t be surprised.

Billy wasn’t sure much of anything would surprise him anymore.

He was surprised, however, when your parents agreed to leave you under his supervision while they went home to shower, eat, and change their clothes. He didn’t mind, but he was… surprised. Surprised that they trusted him enough for something like that. It wasn’t like it was an exciting job, exactly, sitting at your side and waiting for you to wake up. He didn’t mind though, holding your hand and talking to you in between the visits nurses made to check in on you.

“I-I should have told you,” Billy said, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. “I should have told you that I loved you the second I realized it, but now you’re lying here and I still don’t know if you’re ever going to wake up again to be able to really hear it.”

He sniffled, blinking rapidly and realizing with only slight surprise that he was crying, tears dripping slow paths down his cheeks. “I just love you so, so much. And I was just scared that you didn’t feel the same way, because you’re you and I’m me and you deserve so much better.”

Billy wiped away the tears, leaving dampness behind on his cheeks, and reach back for your hand. And then your fingers wrapped around his own and his breath froze in his throat because that definitely wasn’t him and you were waking up. Billy wasn’t religious but he thanked God in that moment for letting you live.

“You shouldn’t talk like that.” Your voice was raspy and so incredibly weak, but you were talking. You were awake. How much had you heard? “Just the tail end.”

Billy hadn’t realized he had spoken aloud. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“Depends on your definition of ‘okay’,” You mumbled. The nurses had realized you were awake and had already began to fuss around you, monitoring your vitals and checking to see if you were in any pain.

“Just tired,” You mumbled, eyes blinking blearily. Billy squeezed your hand gently, more to anchor himself than anything. You gave a faint smile and squeezed back. “But okay. I think the pain meds are kinda, uh… strong.”

“They have to be, sweetheart,” Said one of the nurses, giving you a little water to drink. “Just try and rest, alright?”

“What else am I going to do? Run a 5k?” Billy chuckled lightly - even barely awake you had the capacity to sass the nurses.

“I’d stay clear of running for a few days,” He said.

The nurses shook their heads in amusement, and after several more minutes seemed satisfied that everything was normal. They left the room with the instructions for him to notify them if anything changed. “Your parents are home,” Billy said. “They just left an hour ago or so, they’ve been here all night.”

“’S okay,” You said, stifling down a yawn. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“You should get some rest,” Billy said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Your body needs that in order to heal.”

You gave a slight nod. “I know. But Billy?”

“Yeah?”

There was a long pause in between his response and yours, long enough that he thought you had fallen asleep. But you finally did speak, before finally drifting off, four little words that loosened the tight knot that had coiled itself in his chest overnight.

“I love you too.”

Tag List: @aw-hawkeye @micachu1331 @esoltis280 @ilvermornyqueen @teaand-cookies @adri200189 @thisismysecrethappyplace @hyphymanatee

[wordlesscaptain]

Insult to Injury: Part 4 (Steve x Reader)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k+

Warnings: angst, language

Summary: An ignored injury leaves you with more trouble than you bargained for.

A/N: I wanted to make the 4th part the final part, but I’m nowhere near done...typical of me. So I decided to break it up and post what I’ve gotten written so far. You guys deserve it! You’ve waited so long. I’m not sure when I’ll get the final final part written. A lot of stuff has happened in the past few weeks and I’ve been pressed for time. I’ll explain all that in a post later. I am anticipating having to take a hiatus, so I just wanted to let you all know that.

Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Your eyelids felt heavy, like they were being weighed down by an anchor. You struggled to find the strength to open them. You felt yourself being taken somewhere. The sound of wheels clattering against a hard surface filled your ears. You heard voices—voices you didn’t recognize—talking hastily around you, but you couldn’t make out what they were saying. Then you heard it, his voice. It was authoritative and commanding, the usual. But you could’ve sworn you heard a sense of urgency and worry in the way he spoke.

You had to talk to him. You had to. This couldn’t wait any longer.

Your eyes snapped open and you instantly grimaced at the bright fluorescent lights that bore down above you. You were greeted by three unfamiliar faces, all dressed in navy blue medical scrubs. You must’ve actually fallen asleep on the Quinjet, which in any other circumstance would’ve been fine. But you wanted to talk to Steve before you went to the medical ward. It was too late now.

“Captain Rogers,” one of the unfamiliar faces spoke to get his attention.

Shortly after she spoke his name, you found him walking next to the gurney you were being wheeled on throughout the med ward. He greeted you with a smile. You smiled weakly back at him.

“How long was I out?” you asked, your voice raspy from the events that transpired earlier.

“Almost the entire flight,” he answered.

“Oh,” you replied softly. You honestly didn’t remember falling asleep at all. You were surprised you didn’t wake up when you landed. Your injuries must have taken more of a toll on you than you initially thought.

“It was terribly boring,” he joked.

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your lips. There he was making light of the terrible situation. You felt yourself falling deeper and deeper for him. You were glad he was in a good mood despite everything that had happened during the mission. You hoped his mood would stay that way when he found out the truth about your ankle.

You watched as you were wheeled through a set of double doors that lead to an examination room, Steve still walking hastily by your side. Once you were inside the room, the nurses slowed the gurney to a stop.

“We’ll take it from here, Captain Rogers,” one of the nurses spoke up.

Steve nodded in response. He gave you a small wave before leaving you in the hands of the nurses.

After a couple of hours of being poked and prodded by various doctors, you were finally released from their examining eyes. You were now lying in a hospital bed, a bright red cast adoring your right ankle.

The doctors explained to you briefly the condition your ankle was in earlier, but you were in so much pain from both the stab wounds and your ankle that everything was a blur. You wanted to think you heard the word ‘broken’ thrown around a couple of times, but you really weren’t sure. You also didn’t know how long you’d be stuck in that ugly cast. You were sure you’d find out soon enough. Before your mind could wander much further, two smiling—and worried—faces entered your room.

“Hey, kiddo,” Tony greeted.

“Hi, Tony,” you said softly. “Steve,” you nodded towards his direction with a smile. He smiled back at you slightly. His gaze shifted to your obnoxiously flashy cast then back to you, his features now held an expression you couldn’t read.

You felt small and guilty when he looked back at you. You wondered if he knew what happened, that you had ignored a previous injury and were now worse for wear. If he did, oh boy, you were going to have hell to pay.

“Has the doc explained everything to you yet?” Tony asked, distracting you from your thoughts.

“Yes,” you nodded. “But, uhh, I don't really remember what she said. It’s all a little hazy.”

He nodded at you. “Alright, I’ll page her.”

“Has she talked to you two?” you asked. You weren’t sure which answer you preferred: them already knowing or having the news delivered to them with you in the room.

“Nope,” he shook his head. You saw Steve also shake his head out of the corner of your eye.

The doctor came into your room shortly after with a clipboard in her hands. She began explaining the severity of the stab wounds you received. She explained that would heal fairly quickly in roughly two weeks and reminded you to apply antibiotic cream twice a day.

Next, she moved on to your ankle. This was what you were dreading the most. The truth was going to come out and you weren’t sure how you, or a certain someone in the room, would handle it.

“Unfortunately, your ankle won’t heal as quickly as your other wounds,” she informed. “You’ll have to keep it in the cast for at least two months, and then we’ll put it in a brace while you work to get your complete strength and mobility back. All in all, it’ll probably take about four months.”

You couldn’t speak. You couldn’t believe you would be out that long. Had anyone on the team ever been out that long? You had no idea what you were going to do with yourself. You felt helpless and ashamed.

“I’ll show you some x-rays so you have a better visual of what’s going on,” she continued. The lights dimmed and a holographic screen popped up—all thanks to Tony’s brilliance, no doubt.

“If you’ll look here,” she pointed towards the x-ray, “you’ll see that the fibula is completely broken. And,” she paused, moving her finger across the image, “over here, you’ll see that there are fractures in the tibia as well. Now, I’m not exactly sure what happened, but it looks like those fractures happened before the fibula was broken.”

“So, you’re saying she was injured before today?” Steve asked, his brows furrowed in confusion.

The doctor nodded. “It appears so.”

“That’ll be all. Thanks, doc,” Tony spoke.

After the doctor left the room, the atmosphere felt heavy. You looked to Steve, his brows still furrowed. You could tell the gears in his head were turning. You knew he’d put the pieces together and figure out what happened eventually.

“Secrets, secrets are no fun,” Tony hummed. “Secrets, secrets hurt someone,” he finished as he gave you a knowing smirk.

“Since when did you become the moral compass of the group?” you scoffed.

Tony’s words were all Steve needed to hear for the pieces to finally click. His head snapped to you.

“Y/N-”

“And that’s my cue to leave,” Tony announced before leaving you alone with Steve.

“Is it true?” he asked as he walked closer to you, his voice low.

You looked at him and opened your mouth, but couldn’t bring yourself to speak.

“Y/N,” he said more sternly, “did you know?” he asked.

You looked down to your hands to take your eyes away from his heavy gaze. “Steve, I’m sorry,” you confessed. You looked back up to meet his gaze. “I didn’t want you to find out like this.”

“And how exactly did you want me to find out?” he asked.

“From me. I wanted to be the one to tell you, but I...” you paused, “God, I was going to tell you, I swear, but-”

“But you didn’t,” he cut you off. You could hear the anger and frustration building in his voice. “But it sure sounds like you told Tony.”

“No,” you started. He looked at you sternly. “Okay…kind of. I saw him the morning after the mission and he noticed I was limping so he asked about it. I just told him I didn’t think it was too serious and I thought it would be fine.”

He hummed in response, the gears in his head turning to put more pieces of the puzzle together.

“So that’s why you were acting weird that morning.”

You nodded.

“And that’s why you asked to work on arm strengthening.”

You nodded again.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” he asked sincerely.

“I didn’t want you to worry and make a big deal about it,” you answered.

“I wouldn’t have made a big deal-”

“You’re making a big deal about it right now,” you retorted.

He sighed. “I still wish you would’ve told me.”

“In my defense, I didn’t think my ankle was that bad,” you countered.

“In your defense?” he scoffed. “I know you knew something was off. You’re not stupid, Y/N.”

“Fine,” you huffed. “You’re right. I knew something wasn’t right. But I didn’t care. I couldn’t justify sitting on my ass waiting for my damn ankle to feel better while everyone else was fighting to protect the world.”

“That’s your excuse?” he questioned.

You were seeing red now. It frustrated you that he didn’t take your response as the truth. He was listening to what you were saying but he wasn’t really listening. You knew him. He’d given you that same response many times before. But when you said it, it was no longer a viable answer. You narrowed your eyes at him before speaking again.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me you wouldn’t have done the same thing,” you challenged. He stayed silent. “That’s what I thought. You can’t. Because you have done the same thing. Remember that mission in Prague? You came back with three broken ribs and didn’t say a word until they got infected and you could hardly breathe.”

He stiffened at your words and crossed his arms.

“Or-or that one time you jumped out of that 40 story building and fractured your arm, but continued to go on missions like nothing happened.”

“Well maybe you shouldn’t have followed my example.”

“I thought that’s what I was supposed to do. You are the Captain after all,” you spat.

“You’re right, I am the Captain. You should’ve follow my orders, but you didn’t. You ignored me when I told you to get your ankle checked the first time,” he argued.

“How come you can ignore your injuries, but I can’t?” you demanded.

“That’s not the issue here. You’re missing the point.”

“What?” you growled. “What am I missing? I think you’re the one who’s missing-”

“Dammit, Y/N!” he yelled.

You froze at his sudden outburst. He had never, ever yelled at you like that before. You looked at him with wide eyes, not daring to say a word.

“Do you not realize how senseless you acted? How reckless? It’s a miracle you made it out of there in one piece. You could’ve gotten yourself killed. Did you ever consider that?”

You averted your gaze, finding a particular spot on the floor suddenly the most interesting thing in the room. He was right. You hadn’t thought about that. Your stubborn actions really could’ve killed you. And now the weight of that thought hit you like a freight train.

“I think you should go,” you whispered. Tears started to prick your eyes, threatening to spill over as each second passed.

He nodded and made his way out the door, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He looked over his shoulder at you before disappearing out of the room.

Part 5

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[the-everlasting-dream]

The Revelation - Drake x MC, Part 6A

Summary: Drake struggles with the jarring reality that the woman he loves holds no feelings for him now. 

A/N: Oh god I really am the worst at updating, I’m so sorry for making you guys wait over a month for updates with this hiatus. Y’all are the real MVPs for sticking with my inconsistent ass so heres another instalment! This chapter got so long I had to split it in half. 

Once again thank you to @chantelle-x0x for making the wonderful aesthetic for this part! Don’t forget to check out the masterlist for the musical accompaniment for each chapter! 

Word count: 4000+

CATCH UP HERE

‘How is she today Doc?’ Drake asked tentatively. He was standing beside one of the doctors in charge at the foot Elizabeth’s bed, watching as she lay there, almost motionless except for the gentle rise and fall of her chest. 

Four weeks had passed since he’d watched the balcony of the Vancoeur mansion give way, plunging his fiancé down to the rocks below. For a terrible moment, Drake had believed that this was it, this was the end. And he would have been right if not for a small outcrop along the cliff face a few feet below the balcony that had interrupted her descent towards the jagged shoreline. 

 Dr. Jillian Thomas glanced at her notes for a long moment. 

 ‘She’s getting there alright. The broken ribs and shoulder are healing well, they’ll still hurt when she wakes up so she’ll need pain meds for another two or three weeks and physical therapy after that. Same with the pelvis. She’s lucky it was only a fracture or we would have a bigger problem on our hands. In a way its good that she’s been unconscious all this time. Gives her body time to heal.’ 

Drake nodded seriously as he considered the doctor’s words. ‘What about the brain injury? You guys were pretty worried about that one at first.’ 

 ‘The skull fracture was our biggest concern because it caused an minor intracranial haemorrhage - bleeding within skull outside the brain,’ she clarified, seeing that he was confused. 

’Due to the way the brain tissue presses against the skull it can cause some impairment but we can’t tell for sure. But they got her to the hospital pretty quickly and she pulled through quicker than normal so I am very optimistic that she will recover well. She’s a tough one.’ The doctor finished nodding at her still figure.   

 ‘Thats my girl.’ Drake couldn’t help but break into a huge smile of relief. If the experts said Elizabeth was going to be fine he trusted them. 

Dr Thomas smiled genially. ‘One of our nurses observed that she was conscious for a few seconds yesterday so she should be waking up soon. You were listed as her first point of contact and I thought you should be here so she’d have someone familiar to wake up to.’

The possibility of her waking up soon thrilled him beyond description. In the weeks past, Drake had spent as much time as he could at her bedside, hoping, wishing, praying to every god in the universe that she’d come back to him. He thought back to their last encounter, hating the way he’d raised her voice at her on that balcony. He knew he would have never forgiven himself if those had been the last words they’d ever get to exchange. Now that he was he was willing to put all of it past him if she just gave him the chance. 

He’d made countless silent promises to her as he watched her sleep, pledging that he would be a better man, that he would be the best fiancé that ever lived, he’d take care of her and never, ever hurt her like he had. And when Elizabeth woke up, he’d be there. He would fulfil all the things he’d promised, giving her everything he had if she would only let him. 

Before Elizabeth, he’d been nothing but a cynic towards love, like he’d been towards most other things in life. Growing up the way he did, in Liam’s shadow, Drake had seen his fair share of women only taking an interest in him to get closer to his best friend. After countless romantic prospects that only ended in failure, he could hardly blame himself when Elizabeth walked into his life, intelligent, engaging and incredibly beautiful, she seemed too good to be true. When he had inevitably found himself attracted to her, that was when the walls came up again, more out of habit than anything else.  

He’d almost driven her away too if not for Elizabeth’s stubbornness and sheer strength of will. Drake had thanked his lucky stars every day that she had not given up on him 

She had shown him what love really was, what it was like to be wanted, to be needed by another person in a way that he could not possibly have fathomed before. Each touch, each kiss they had shared brought new meaning to the the very gestures themselves. Every whisper of I love you, every act of love had seemed so right as if being with her was the only thing that would ever make sense. After the accident he’d seen a glimpse of what life could have been without her and he never wanted to be without her again. 

Eventually Elizabeth began to stir, pulling him out of his thoughts as she lifted her eyelids, blinking a few times to get used to the lights of the hospital room. He watched on with anxious eyes as she glanced around the room, dazed and bewildered. Her confusion only grew as she tried to lift her arms only to be hindered by the sling on one shoulder. 

 ‘Hey,’ Drake began awkwardly as he watched her take in her surroundings. ‘It's so good to see you.’ 

 ‘H-head hurts.’ Elizabeth's voice was thick and garbled from disuse as she blinked a few more times, still adjusting to the light. 

 ‘The doctor said you’re going to be a bit groggy,’ he told her, fashioning his voice into a gentle tone not wanting to panic her. He had so much to say to her but he pushed it all down for the moment, not wanting to overwhelm her all at once. ‘Can I get you anything?’ 

She cleared her throat roughly. ‘Water... please.’ 

 Drake readily complied, filling a paper cup from the jug in the room and handing it to her. 'Do you know your name?’ He ventured hesitantly. 

‘Elizabeth Richmond.’ She nodded once after taking a deep draught and immediately winced, the action obviously causing her pain. 'What happened? Where am I?’ 

 ‘You’re in a hospital in Cordonia,’ Dr Jillian chimed in, entering the room. ‘You were in an accident, you fell and hurt your head but you’re okay now.’ Elizabeth’s confused gaze flitted around the room. Drake watched her brow furrow, processing the information, her throat bobbing as she swallowed hard. 

‘I’m so glad you’re okay,’ Drake burst out, unable to take the suspense as relief formed thickly in his voice. 

Her dark eyes continued to move around the room, taking in her surroundings and when her vague stare rested on him, Drake felt the sudden need to touch her. Moving to sit in the chair beside her, he reached for her hand, craving her warmth but before his fingers could close on hers, Elizabeth jerked her arm away. 

 'What are you doing?’ she accused, staring at him in alarm. 'Please don’t touch me.’ 

A a pang of pain flitted through his chest. She must remember our last encounter. He dropped his hand to his lap awkwardly. He didn’t blame her though, he shouldn’t have expected her to take him back so easily. 

 ‘That’s right. I’m sorry. You must still be mad at me..’

Elizabeth shook her head once more, confusion written all over her face. She stared at him for a moment with her brow creased. ‘Mad? Why would I be mad at you? I barely know you.’ 

 Drake’s stomach lurched at her words. She didn't know him? He might have anticipated some resistance on her part to forgive him but this was almost too cruel. 

 ‘Good one Elizabeth. You gotta know who I am right?’ He told her, allowing some humour to enter his voice because she was just playing a joke on him. Right?   

'I-I think so? You’re Drake right? Liam’s best friend.’ A dim light of recognition glowed in her eyes as she said his name, but there was something in her tone that was just… wrong. He couldn’t put his finger on it but he could tell there was something off about the way it came from her lips. 

 ‘Yes. Yes I am,’ Drake confirmed, mind still grappling with the previous thought. She was not wrong though, he rationalised to himself… The doctors said she’d had a major head injury, they wouldn’t know the full effect until she woke up but surely this wasn’t… This couldn’t be happening. Did she really not remember him? His brain raced ahead working out all the possibilities, considering all the options but the more he dwelled on it the more possible it seemed. 

Elizabeth had been watching him carefully all this time, as the storm of emotions played out on his face. 

‘You don’t look satisfied with that,’ she began, shaking her head as if to clear it before continuing almost hesitantly. 'A-am I missing something here? Are you not...' 

‘No I am,’ he interrupted, wishing to stop her train of thought before it went any further. ‘It’s me... Drake but do you really not know who I am? 

 Her eyes filled with confusion as she glanced around frantically. ‘Know what? I-Is there more to know?’ 

 The crux of her statement pressed on his chest like a boulder. He drew a shaky breath before trying to find the words but how could he?

‘Elizabeth… I-I don’t know how to tell you this,’ he eventually croaked, unable to dislodge the words from where they clung to his throat. ‘Elizabeth I-I’m your fiancé. We’re supposed to be getting married soon.' 

 Elizabeth’s eyes widened in alarm as she shifted in bed, legs scrabbling at the mattress as she tried to push herself away from him. Her breathing now came in uneven gasps and in the dimness of his peripheral senses, Drake heard the pace of the heart monitor speed up. 

 ‘Thats-thats not possible. You can’t be my fiancé. I barely know you,’ she burst out, raising one hand to her head, her fingers brushing the bandage wrapped around it. 'What about the prince? The social season? I was supposed to be competing to marry him n-not you. What about-’ 

Before she could continue Drake cut her off, almost stupefied at what she was saying. ‘The pr- Elizabeth, Liam is the king now. The social season was months ago. Are you -' 

 Dr Jillian, who had been listening to the entire exchange, now interrupted both of them, stepping forward with a pointed look. ‘Mr Walker may I speak to you outside?'

Visibly rattled, Drake complied with her instruction and as soon as they were out of earshot he turned on the shorter woman. 

‘You said things were good. You said she was recovering fine. You said she was going to be o-‘ 

‘Mr Walker,’ she cut him off, her voice taking on a slightly authoritative tone now. ‘I said I was optimistic that she would recover well but brains are not like broken bones. They have a degree of plasticity to them that makes it hard to predict what the outcome will be. We do attempt to gather some idea of how the patient will turn out from the rate of recovery but the best we can give is still only an estimate. It all depends on the way the tissue presses against the skull as this can cause some impairments-‘ 

 Drake had been running his hand through his hair but when she said this he dropped them to his side, almost reflexively balling them into fists. ‘Some impairments?! You mean to tell me that my fiancé not remembering who I am is ‘some impairment?’ 

 The doctor took a cautious step back. ‘I did not mean that at all. What I mean was her brain is still recovering from the trauma. This process takes a while so it is possible that she might be experiencing retrograde amnesia.’ 

His mind struggled to grasp what she was saying. ‘Amnesia? Retrograde? Lady you better start making some sense real quick. What the hell are you talking about?’ 

Drake ignored the stares he was getting from other hospital patients, glancing back towards Elizabeth’s room where she watched in terror through the glass window pane. ‘You’re saying she’s permanently forgotten me?' 

 ‘I can’t say for sure but usually our amnesia patients do seem to recover most of their memories but this takes time. We can’t say for certain how much she does remember or how much she will gain back. She might remember everything or she might remember nothing-‘ 

Drake immediately felt sick to his stomach and, unable to keep listening to the doctor, he stalked off blindly as his feet carried him to the nearest bathroom. Once inside he hunched over the sink, almost hyperventilating as the urge to hurl only grew stronger. 

After his breathing had evened out a little, he splashed his face once, twice before exiting the bathroom, reaching into his pocket. His fingers trembled as he shot a quick text off to Liam before dropping onto a nearby seat in the waiting room outside Elizabeth’s ward, fingers carding roughly through his hair.

Had it all really been so easy to forget? The closeness they’d shared, the smiles, the pure and simple unbridled joy that they’d felt when they were together?  Their entire relationship, the happiness, the struggles the future they could have had now seemed so far off… 

Or perhaps, Drake's mind suggested, feeling the worm of doubt come burrowing back into his soul, it hadn’t been the same for her, maybe she had not felt as strongly about him as he felt about her… she had been and still was everything to him but was it the same for her? 

The thought jarred him to the very core and he gripped the armrest of the chair, knuckles blanching at the pressure. He didn’t even want to entertain the very possibility of it being true. She couldn’t, she just couldn’t…. His brain scrabbled at the threads of hope that perhaps this was all a bad dream, that he’d wake up with Elizabeth in his arms, smiling at him with her memory intact. While it was all to easy to lose himself in the fantasy deep in his heart he knew it wasn’t true. Around and around Drake went in mental circles, picturing the blank look in Elizabeth’s eyes when she said she didn’t know him, trying desperately to figure out what he could do, what he could have done to make things better, to change the past because there was nothing he wouldn’t do, nothing, to have her look at him the way she used to. 

But this provides fruitless, only driving him madder as he fought to find a solution by the time he saw Liam’s dark blonde hair headed toward the waiting room, Drake was barely able to string a sentence together. His best friend’s blue eyes were clouded with confusion as he choked out a disjointed explanation of what had happened as they walked back to Elizabeth’s room. 

‘Liam,’ she exclaimed softly, immediately recognising him as he stepped across the threshold. As Drake followed behind, he couldn’t help the rush of jealousy that arrived when her face lit up at his best friend’s entrance. Why did she remember Liam and not him? In the interest of finding out how much she did remember, he hung back in the doorway, watching the interaction take place.

 ‘Elizabeth,’ Liam was saying, having taken a seat in the chair at her bedside. ‘How are you feeling?’ 

'Um.. okay I guess…’ She began, shifting a little as tugged her fingers through her dark locks. 'My head definitely hurts a little... but the doctor said it was normal. I’ve got some pain killers if they get worse...' 

 Drake couldn’t see it but he could tell that Liam was smiling as he replied, ‘Let me know if there is anything I can do to make you more comfortable.' 

 ‘I... uh thanks…' The corners of her mouth picked up a little before she cleared her throat again. 'So they tell me you’re king now?

’Thats right,’ Liam confirmed with a nod of his head. 'I have been for a few months now...' 

 Her features fell at his response and her voice was quiet when she spoke.. 'I guess a lot has happened in that time huh? 

 Liam nodded again, the pleasant smile turning apologetic. 'I suppose it has.' 

Elizabeth nodded as she digested the information, picking at the threads of the blanket on her lap and when she looked up again, her brown eyes were filling with tears. 

 'I’m so scared Liam. I-I don’t know… so much, so much I don’t remember….’ Her shoulders shuddered as she drew in a shaky breath, her tears glistening under the fluorescent lights as they slid down her cheeks. Drake felt his heart break even more when she said this. It pained him almost physically to see the woman he loved like this. He wanted so badly to wrap her up in his arms and protect her. But how was he to protect her from the things inside her head? Her next words, however hit him like an eighteen-wheeler.   

'I just… I don’t even know who I am anymore…’ She whispered, barely audible to him but still visceral nonetheless. Half way through a step towards her, Drake's progress was halted when he saw Liam reaching for Elizabeth's hand, wrapping her small one in his, squeezing it lightly while Drake  wince inwardly as their hands made contact. The tiny gesture stirred up a tornado of feelings for him. How far back did her memory loss go? How much did she remember? Why did she seem to remember Liam and not him? Why him? What about Hana and Maxwell and everyone else? Had she forgotten them too? And more importantly, he realised with a jarring force, what were they going to do now?�� 

These questions swirled around in his head blocking out all everything else until he heard Liam’s voice cut through. 

 ‘Drake…. Drake? Are you okay?’ 

Only then did Drake realise that he has been gripping the doorframe so hard the metal had left an imprint in his hands. His racing heart only sped up when he realised that both of them were staring at him, Liam in concern and Elizabeth in fear. The expression on her face seemed to open new wounds in his heart, he couldn’t stand to have her look at him like this. 

 ‘I.. uh… I’ll be outside,’ he answered lamely. ‘You two… you….’ 

Unable to bring himself to finish the sentence, he exited the room flopping down limply into a nearby chair, head in his hands. It was only then that the tears began to flow, fat hot tears that dripped off the end of his nose to pool in a puddle on the floor. Fierce deep pain gripped his soul and he could think of nothing else until a soft hand was laid on his shoulder, making him look up.   

‘Hey, we came as quickly as we could,’ Hana told him gently with Maxwell in tow. She wrapped him in a brief hug. ‘How is she?’ 

‘She’s… she’s inside. With him,’ Drake croaked, motioning passively in the direction of Elizabeth’s room. He gave them a brief run down of what had happened watched as their jaws fell in shock before rushing to the room. His limbs screamed in refusal to move but in the interest of seeing how Elizabeth would react to their friends, he trailed behind them, keeping a safe distance. 

‘Elizabeth, hi.’ Hana began softly, with a gentle smile on her face.   

'You remember us right?’ Maxwell put in anxiously. 

 The light of recognition in Elizabeth eyes as they settled on the pair. ‘Hana, Maxwell?’

‘Yep that’s us,’ Maxwell chimed in cheerfully. ‘You remember!’ 

‘I-I do. At least I think I do,’ Elizabeth tried for a smile. ‘You called me little blossom? Or am I just imagining that?’ 

‘No no, you’re right!’ he reassured her enthusiastically, coming to sit on the edge of the bed. 

 ‘Maxwell,’ Liam began in a cautionary tone. 

 ‘Its alright,’ Elizabeth told him. ‘It’s nice to see a familiar face.’ 

‘We were so worried about you,’ Hana told her, coming to stand at her side. ‘We’re just so happy you’re okay.’ 

Elizabeth’s features creased into a slight frown. ‘I don’t know about that…' 

‘We’ll help you get better. Anything you need, we’ll get it for you,’ Maxwell exclaimed perhaps a bit too loudly before leaning in conspiratorially. 'Between you and me, I tried to sneak Cooper in here but Bastien caught me before I could get him to the limo. He misses you so much.’ 

‘Cooper?’ Her tone was slightly puzzled. 

 Maxwell slapped a hand to his forehead. ‘Oh you must have forgotten. You Elizabeth are the owner of the cutest, wiggliest, most adorable corgi in the world Sir Cooper the Valiant of Houses Beaumont and Richmond.’

 Elizabeth’s eyes grew round. ‘I have a corgi? They’re adorable!' 

‘Thats what I said!’

‘Maxwell’s been taking good care of him while you were under. We’ll find a way to sneak him in here soon,’ Hana promised with a slight wink. 

 ‘I’d like that.’ Elizabeth smiled, a real smile now, the first one Drake has seen on her face in a long time.

 As she continued chatting amicably with Maxwell and Hana, he suddenly felt extremely out of place, almost as if he was a stranger interrupting a private family gathering. It seemed like she really did remember everyone except him and that only deepened the hurt in his chest. Unable to take this anymore, he exited the room but was followed by his best friend. 

‘Drake?’ 

‘Liam I can’t. I just can’t be in there…’ He told him, his voice cracking with emotion. 'It seems like she remembers everyone except me… I can’t tell you how much that hurts. In her mind she’s still pursuing you and I can’t tell you how much it hurts, how much it fucking hurts… Its like everything we ever went through, all the things we said and did, they mean nothing now…' 

‘I know what you mean.’ 

For a moment Drake thought he heard a hint of bitterness in Liam's words but this evaporated when the king laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. ‘But you should get some rest, you look exhausted. You’ve been here almost every day.' 

 Drake lifted his head to look at the other man. 'How can I, Liam? Do you really just expect me to walk out of here and pretend like nothing happened?' 

'Listen man,’ Liam’s blue eyes bored into his. 'I know you’re upset but is staying here really gonna do anything to help her? Go home, get some sleep and we’ll work on fixing this problem tomorrow.'

Begrudging his friend’s annoying ability to be right, Drake heeded his advice, heading back to his family home. The place always brought back a wave of nostalgia and a yearning for better, simpler times with his family. He hadn’t been back in months, since the start of Engagement Tour and there was tons of repairs to do. Right now he didn’t care. Those could wait. For now, he just wanted to block out the last few hours, hoping that sleep would be able to provide some relief to the agony in his soul. 

-

A/N: Currently writing the next chapter but as my exams start this friday, 6B might only be out after the 30th sorry. Hang in there because I will definitely make it worth the wait!

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[thenightisland]

unsolicited lengthy updates from the ghost that runs this blog

i couldn’t believe i hadn’t done one of these in 2018 since in 2017 so much was happening that i had to like five or six of them so let’s see what we have here

mm - second in command nurse/one of my best friends, the one who’s always cursed with constantly cheating death and people dying on her etc ch - staff nurse/one of my best friends, human version of pink champagne, pregnant rc - the techs’ version of a charge nurse/one of my best friends cb - the thriller novelist who inexplicably works with us, the one who nearly got killed on the unit last year there are others that’ll come up but i guess those are the main players

2017 was awful right up to the end. about an hour into 2018 things started looking much more promising, mostly from a personal life standpoint. which was the least it could do after 2017 ruined my christmas.

few weeks into the year cb finally came back. he’d been out five months. no one understood why he came back when he had so many other career options at his fingertips, and we certainly didn’t understand why he came back to the shift it happened on. and even more so i didn’t understand why he talked to me about writing, when he wouldn’t even admit he was a writer out loud to anyone else and certainly didn’t talk at length about it with anyone. he still wouldn’t talk about it, to anyone else.

rc nearly put himself into DTs at the beginning of the year, despite, you know, working in psych and knowing what that does to a person. which sometimes i wonder if that was his intention, to do lasting damage, bc that shit can kill you. he got through all of that ofc, and had done really well until these last few weeks, more on /why/ later

our hospital has a weird tendency to create odd romantic relationships that i swear are things forged out of a mash unit type of daily trauma. so mm is currently in a will they or won’t they arc - leaning toward will - with a guy who works up there. one of my med nurses who went 7-3 is most definitely with one of my techs which we all knew would happen. ch is engaged to a social worker who worked at our hospital at the time. our director married a tech. a house sup has a kid with a tech. the detox charge nurse met his wife when she was a tech and they both worked our unit. etc. i guess it’s bc we deal with such intense things every day and you literally do save each other’s lives. we always joke hospital relationships are an inevitability. that being said my situations with rc and cb should have been expected and yet here i am, the former esp, as we’ve been the hospital’s most popular pairing for ages.

i spend a lot of my time now breaking behavior cases rather than treating psych pts. behavior cases are people who aren’t psychotic, they’re just violent opportunistic assholes who have figured out how to go to a psych hospital instead of jail. treating psych pts is tiring but rewarding. breaking behavior cases makes you feel almost sociopathic bc you /do/ you have to break them. psychologically, i mean. physically all we really have to work with is a shot and a few hours in seclusion. so you end up doing these hannibal lecter style speeches and trying to come up with threats that sound convincing that you know you can’t follow through on but you have to make them believe you can. they keep taking these “pts” so i spend 90% of my time now breaking those cases so that they don’t keep hurting staff and my real pts. one such behavior case was responsible for rc getting attacked. it really is a matter of 98% mind games and movie villain speeches, since this large violent not at all psychotic “pt” no longer messes with me or any of my people after our discussion about his behavior. 

my nursing friend who died unexpectedly last year. her sister was bipolar, which i found out in nursing school, bc over easter weekend i helped my friend get her through a psychotic manic break. i didn’t remember her and she didn’t remember me considering the circumstances of our one meeting. so this past spring i’m prepping a pt to transfer to another unit, and it isn’t until then that i realize the sister had been on my unit all week. part of her paperwork said “off meds, having difficulty coping with upcoming anniversary of sister’s sudden death.” it was like seeing a ghost.

my friend’s mother died. we all adored her mom. she was an artist and a very accomplished one. we had to watch what became a ten year decline.

one of my high school teachers died after dealing with cancer for two years and while i wasn’t fond of her and didn’t mourn her, a death is still a death

cb was a night shift weekender, primarily. in march, found out why when i was on 11-7 he’d pick up shifts. and why he started picking up 3-11s when i switched to 3-11. and why he came back to the shift he got hurt on. why he came back at all. why he was finally actually /talking/ to someone about his life and background before he gone girled himself, and why that person was me. took mm pointing all of it out to realize i was the common denominator but i was always bad at math. 

i went to an island in south carolina for a few weeks in april and dreaded coming home since the vacation curse is 4/4. but nothing happened. thank god. i doubt i could have handled a fifth round.

my nursing class had another member die unexpectedly this year too. last year this guy was the one to post in our fb group that my friend/our classmate had died. idk if this is a the ring sort of deal, but now he’s dead, so the girl who posted about /his/ death should probably watch out in 2019. we have an awfully high mortality rate for a class that had like 22 people in it. much like the teacher, i wasn’t esp fond of him, but it is a bit creepy to watch a classmate die each year.

sometime in may is when the hospital started going to hell, i think. i have vague memories of regulatory agencies being around all the time and some of the doctors and assessors literally living there, pt rooms on one of the nicer units converted into bedrooms for them because yes it was that bad. one woman didn’t see her son for two weeks. it kept escalating to a point that our unit was constantly having meetings with the ceo bc things were that fucked up. they were taking behavior cases they should never have taken. there were so many employee injuries in 2018, and we all just kind of revolted when one such behavior case decked a med nurse in the face just bc he could [you know, the person with no psych history who had tried to murder his little sister prior to admission] that pt was supposed to be d/c’d to jail in two weeks. we had him almost two months. the unit looked like a tenement from the boarded up broken windows. we fought and fought and fought for unit safety and the staffing required to accomplish that. everyone was so goddamn exhausted that we started holding admission paperwork hostage like no it’ll get done when you give me the staff to fucking do it but two nurses in this nurses station with 80 volatile pts is not enough, and guess what four techs for that many pts isn’t enough either. i mean it was just every day fighting. i remember sitting on my tailgate drinking tequila one night with ch and us in tears bc our home was falling apart. and the day rc just said i don’t know how much longer i can keep doing this, sounded defeated, which he’s never defeated. there was a night me mm rc and cb just stood in the nurses station exhausted and saying we’ve got to get out of here. but we kept coming back, fighting for every last bit of progress we could. 

i’d been texting cb one weekend while he was at work, which was the only reason i had my phone on me which meant i saw the message from mm that said “what would 30mg of klonopin do to me” which was how i ended up with one of my best friends on my couch on a saturday night sobbing bc she had come close enough to killing herself that she had the already half empty bottle of vodka in one hand and the bottle of pills in the other. so i had to crisis suicide intervention my fellow psych nurse friend. so i guess good thing i was talking to cb about neruda and auden poetry bc i hate to think what would have happened that night if i hadn’t bothered to keep my phone on me like i do a lot.

and then about a month and a half ago it all came to a head. the dangerous understaffing reached its peak. four techs for eighty pts, which meant two techs for /47/ male pts, a unit of behavior cases, four or five pts who were on 1:1 obs, three admissions untouched, six more pending, and me alone in the nurses station bc i had to put my one other nurse /and/ the secretary on 1:1s that i didn’t have coverage for. i told them it wasn’t safe. i told them i was sick of having this argument every week. i told them that the last time i had to go to two techs on that male hall the week before that staff got hurt. well, three of my four techs were guys, who were stuck on the floor in a hold with a male pt and barely able to keep him contained like having to actively fight and i had to be out there for paperwork/supervisory purposes. that left my remaining one hall tech trying to contain the rest of the unit, since the others were stuck on 1:1s which effectively trap you. so an opportunist female behavior case came up from behind and started beating me in the head over and over and dragged me across the floor by my hair, got a lot out too i had hair coming out for /days/. so my one hall tech is trying to pry this bitch off of me and the staff on the 1:1s are dragging their respective pts up there to the middle of it so they could help bc my guys were still in a losing battle with the male pt. from there i remember mostly being in a blind rage and at some point admin et al came to the unit. and i know i yelled at them a lot and told them they’d better be glad i wasn’t handing them my keys and leaving. and our sweet grandma house sup told the ceo and nurse exec they could be house sup the rest of the night bc she was taking me to the er. our director had to be me the rest of the night. rc wouldn’t even /speak/ to her apparently. one of the social workers was telling her boss that if i left then she was leaving. everything was in an uproar. my nurse who had been stuck on the 1:1 was in the nurses station /sobbing/. the female tech told our director “i hope you know we’re staying for karen, not you.” cb was freaking out bc i texted him from the er and then was taken back for a ct and so didn’t answer and he had called ch terrified bc i wasn’t answering [i think the whole thing probably brought back bad memories for him, obv]. rc didn’t sleep for several days bc he was blaming himself and i had to keep telling him /the only way any of this could have been prevented was by them staffing us appropriately/ bc that’s the truth but he was still so fucking miserable and told mm “if this makes her quit they aren’t getting a two weeks notice from me i’m walking out with her”. in the wake of all this, the unit has continued in the same fashion of fighting for basic necessities every day, and mm is struggling running it in my absence with her already fragile mental health. everyone is kind of terrified about something happening to ch since she’s pregnant. mm is having full panic attack rage breakdowns at our director. when they had the admin meeting with everyone else who was there when i got attacked admin asked my team “how could y’all have prevented this” at which point all of them started yelling at them, and then admin wanted to know why no one called a code when i got attacked at which point rc straight up just yelled at the ceo /because there was no one to fucking call it/.  the nurse exec, who always liked me and was one of the few admin people with a conscience, quit in the wake of me getting hurt, because of the whole thing. and rc has been drinking himself to sleep off and on. 

so now we’re at this crossroads, mm ch rc and i. unsure whether to stay or go. and if so, where? our job is like a war zone idk how to be a civilian anymore, but the four of us have been talking like this place is killing us if this job was a boy/girlfriend we’d call this abusive and end it. if the four of us leave that guarantees the total collapse of what little of the unit will be left. it’s already struggling just with /me/ out [i’ve been out because of the head injury which those aren’t fun], let alone the four of us who have always kind of held the unit together. 

so what the hell are we supposed to do?

in theory 2018 didn’t feel as stressful as 2017 but on paper??? on paper it still looks pretty terrible???????????????

[apartyofone]

Euro finale

Last of my notes:

The cabbie from Nice airport was talkative and friendly - already a change of pace from the icy cold Swiss. When I told him the name of the hotel he smiled and said - you're in for a very special stay! Wow - ok that sounded interesting. He dropped me off - and within 5 minutes I started to understand what he meant. The name of the hotel is Hotel La Perouse. I suggest anyone reading this account should Google it because my description is probably not going to be worthy of this grand place. Eh, never mind - I'll save you the time.  

https://www.hotel-la-perouse.com/

The hotel itself is built into the contours of a cliff that divides Nice - to the south is the long beach and promenade. (Sadly - the place of that horrible terrorist attack in 2016 -

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2016_Nice_attack

But here’s a look at the hotel:

Yeah, it was that good.

The fun started when I checked in. The porter grabbed my too-heavy suitcase and made for the elevator. Which only went to one other level - 5 floors above the street, just one stop. Straight up the cliff. We wound around the hotel to elevator #2. That went another 4 floors. And then the final elevator - up to the top 3 floors! I finally memorized the route by day 2! My room was not facing the sea - damnit - but that probably meant my 300 Euro room would have been 500 or more. That's fine. I had a lovely cool patio against the cliffside, private and surrounded the dry native vegetation clinging to the cliff. The room itself was spacious and modern. In fact every hotel I chose on this top was fabulous for one reason or another. Even Geneva with it's strange sexual symbols throughout the place! Maybe those Swiss aren't so cold after all.

Now I was energized to explore this amazing town. The cab ride had been straight from the airport but the cabbie had told me about exploring the old town sections. That proved to be one of the highlights of this trip. I spent the rest of the afternoon exploring the narrow streets and alleys of this ancient town. While I couldn't say that it was crowded with tourists, there were always a few people around. Every different little alcove had its own character to it. So many restaurants - many of them shuttered in the heat of the afternoon. I walked probably 4 miles around just one part of the huge old city, poking my head into courtyards and building if the gate/door was open. No one objected to the obvious tourist having a look around. Warm and welcoming - that's the theme of this part of France. At least where ever I journeyed. Maybe I was putting too much stock into the difference in Switzerland to France? Could be.

I knew I was coming back to this maze of streets on my final day, so I decided to extend my touristic range. I booked a trip through the hotel for a brief glimpse of Monaco and Monte Carlo for the next morning. Then I walked around the cliffside, away from the beach promenade,  to the less touristy area of Nice, near the harbor. The hotel did a great job of recommending restaurants and I found - and enjoyed - a seafood place right across from the yacht moorage. After exploring a bit of the residential blocks going into the hills I trudged back to my hotel. I think I logged a good 6-8 miles of walking! Had a nightcap in the delightful bar area near the pool and struck up a conversation with a lovely lady who was leaving the next morning. Unfortunately I couldn't talk her into extending her stay. But I might have a place to stay in Paris next year. : ) My bag might be heavy yet again.

My final day of vacation - and I think I took advantage of every single moment. After a nice breakfast with my new friend, I put her in her cab for the airport and I met my tour guide Joseph. I booked a  half day tour into Monaco - and it turned out to be almost a private tour! Only two other people on the tour bus - a couple from Italy - and two tour guides! The couple paired off with the Italian speaker, and I was with Joe, a fascinating Frenchman. Around 60 years old, Joe has spent his entire life in the tourism and travel industry, from hotels and hospitality, to cruise ships and now doing tours in Nice and Monte Carlo.

You know how there are some people that you instantly bond with? Well, Joe was one of those guys. (And let's face it - this is a pretty rare occasion in my rather closed off life). If I had more time I think he and I would have had some interesting times, showing me all of the real parts of Nice that tourists never see. I kept his card - I WILL look him up when I go back.

The hours we spent together were pretty amazing. Yes, we hit the tourist joints of Eze - an amazing enclave clinging to the side of the coast above Monaco - and through Monte Carlo. But he detoured to a different route back to Nice, through the chiseled hills that wind around the coastal communities. Not for the first time on this trip I thought my time in Geneva was such a waste! I could have spent days enjoying this amazing place on the earth. Ugh - next time.

Monaco is post card pretty. I only had a chance to see a few of the best sights. Oh yeah, and I ran into Prince Albert.

http://apartyofone.tumblr.com/post/173125069279/so-i-was-strolling-around-in-front-of-the-royal

Joe had a tour group booked in the evening but he pointed to his favorite restaurant, on the main square of old town Nice. I gave Joe's name to the restaurant host.....and I found myself at the best table in the place. The owner came out and trying to speak English grasped my hand. I took that to mean that any friend of Joe is welcome! He left a carafe of his house wine and so the meal began. I didn't even order. Out came this amazing fresh grouper served on saffron rice. All day I started to understand the relationship to north Africa, just across the Med. Now the spices in the foods were reflecting this complex cultural crossroads.

The sun had long gone down and the alleys of old town were dark - highlighted only by the numerous small restaurants tucked in the ancient buildings, tables spilling outside with bursts of sounds and songs. In any other city I probably would have felt a little threatened or worried about the darkness; for some reason (maybe the wine?) I felt very safe as I wondered through the lanes. Finally my feet gave out on me - thank God I had invested in great walking shoes for this trip unlike Euro 17 - and I regretfully ended up at my hotel. I resolved I would be back for more - much more.

I lingered at the outdoor bar for another hour just reflecting on my day. Alas, didn't find a new friend that night. But as I had a crazy early day - travel day - it was just as well. I walked up to the roof top one last time and took pictures.

After packing for my long journey home I finally fell asleep - satisfied that I had made the most of this Euro journey.

++++++++++

I started the day on the roof of the hotel. I wanted some sun rise pictures over the beach and sea. I was sooooo blessed with the weather on this trip. Joe had told me that the previous FOUR WEEKS had been almost non stop rain. Glad that my only bad weather was in London - almost appropriate there.

I knew my travel day home was going to be hellish - it didn't disappoint.

9 AM - Train from Nice to Paris - thank god not on strike. The seatmates in my first class car were all Americans in a group tour. They were buzzing about how they found a pick pocket and outed her to the police.

3 PM - Arrive in Paris, the Gard Lyon Station. I had hoped to dine at the famous restaurant above the station. By the way - if you need to ever book travel in Europe I recommend this site: https://www.seat61.com/. It's the ultimate guide to train travel and more. He recommended this amazing art deco restaurant at the top of this legendary station. Alas.... there was no elevator to the restaurant. And me, stuck with my fucking heavy luggage, was not going to be trudging up 3 flights of stairs. Oh well, next time.

5 PM - Arrive at De Gaulle Airport for my trip back to the US. Check in was so easy compared to what we have to endure in the US. I felt every bit as safe flying out of Europe as with the heavy handed US TSA. Had an amazing pre flight meal - even the airport restaurants in France are superb - to use up my last Euros. Boarded right on time for Norweigen Air flight.

12:00 Midnight, JFK Airport. Slept most of the flight on this most comfortable airline and airplane. Most notable thing - I was on aisle seat with two young males in the middle and window seat. On a 9 hour flight they didn't move once - not to the bathroom or even for food/drink. Zombies? Maybe.

My kids S and C were there to pick me up. Neither one are great city/freeway drivers. But they decided to stay up late and team up to bring me home. I slept most of the 1:45 trip home.

And finally we were back. The longest time I had spent away from my home for....wow....maybe decades. I recall some long sales trips when I worked with Mattel a long time ago.

I was  happy physically to be home. Mentally? Not so much. This trip satisfied many questions for me, in many ways. I had wondered if my view of Paris especially was colored by a first time infatuation. No, my love for that place is set in stone. My mind is even more made up.

I suppose too my unhappiness - maybe desperation!? - of our current domestic political situation is driving me away. Even if that cunt Trump is tossed out in 2020 the devastation he has left has scarred this country. I don't really want to be a part of the damage control - not with the sunset of my life before me.

++++++++++++

What will I remember from Euro 2018? So much.

 The book scene in London was energizing.

 Exploring more of my love of WW2 history. 

Immersing myself in Paris. 

The cold hardness of Geneva.

The warmth - people,  places and things - of Nice. 

A glorious 18 day sojourn, filled with memories and pictures.

Solo travel isn't so bad. Especially in the few spots where it isn't so solo.

This trip has only encouraged me to renew my mind, body, spirit- and passport - for more trips to come.

[dominionleathershop]

Winning Story

by FionaAndell

I shouldn’t have come to the concert.

George Michael was Alyssa’s favorite singer, and she had previously hinted at how “I Want Your Sex” left her feeling the same. Naturally I, her doting boyfriend, wanted to be around to fill any of her needs that may arise. So when she flashed two tickets and wondered who could “possibly want to come” while twirling her honey-blonde hair, I eagerly volunteered.

That was two weeks ago.

Two days ago, I was in standstill in traffic on my motorcycle, thinking about the way said hair framed her face so beautifully while she was bobbing up and down on my cock. She always looked particularly wicked then, like she was in complete control... My jeans were getting uncomfortably tight, so I shifted the bike’s weight to my right leg and reached down to adjust myself.

The screech of brakes caught my attention and I looked up just in time to see some idiot merging too fast jerk left around a car and SHIT! I yanked my leg out of the way and breathed a quick sigh of relief as he missed me by an inch – and then the bike and I toppled over.

According to the ER doc, I’m lucky my clavicle fracture wasn’t compounded, but they still had to screw metal crap onto my bones. I don’t know about that, but I am lucky the EMT was kind enough to forget to write down “patient’s right hand stuck in pants upon arrival.” She was pretty cute, if you like them able to dead-lift one-fifty. Twenty-four hours and some heavy duty pain-killers later and I walked my happy ass out of the hospital and into Alyssa’s car.

She seemed put out at having to come pick me up, but when I told her I had been hit because I was distracted thinking of her magical mouth, she got a lot more sympathetic. When we reached my apartment, she made sure to show me just how worth it the pain might be.

Tonight was the concert and I wasn’t going to let a little flesh wound ruin my evening. Alyssa showed up looking damn hot in her denim skirt and purple tube top, although the matching cowboy boots were a little ridiculous. She frowned when I just said “lookin’ great, babe,” and didn’t go on about how sexy she was. Blame it on the pain - I hadn’t taken the pills yet, though I’d stuck one in a plastic baggie to take if it got bad. Stretching to buckle the passenger seatbelt over my sling made me thankful I had.

In line for the show, I tried to make up for my earlier gaffe and be very attentive, talking about how much sexier she was than any of the other women. By the time we reached the metal detectors she was smiling and holding my good arm again.

Then disaster struck once more.

The damn plates and screws set off the stupid machines and I had to be pulled aside to prove that I wasn’t packing. This was Texas – they were lucky everybody didn’t have a gun! But I dutifully, painfully took off my sling and showed my incredibly fresh surgical scars. I winced from more than the pull of stitches and tender skin as Alyssa waited by herself just inside, obviously annoyed. Some dudebro walked up and spoke to her, and she flashed him a big grin, leaning toward him. Shit.

Security eventually let me through and I strode back to her side.

“Hey babe, thanks for waiting.” I slid my arm around her shoulders and looked at him. “Sup?” I nodded in greeting and waited for him to fuck off like they always did.

“Hey! How ya doin’?” He smiled with all his teeth and clapped his hand down on my shoulder. Yes. That shoulder.

Blinding pain overwhelmed me and I flinched, my left arm dropping a foot before I came back to my senses and ever-so-casually laid it back on Alyssa’s shoulder.

“Ouch, you’re hurting me!” She stepped sideways out of my reach and I realized that my nonchalant drape had turned into a clench as waves of residual pain washed over me.

“Not cool, dude.” Dudebro took a step into my space, partially between my girlfriend and me.

I shoved him back with my left arm. “Neither is taking cheap shots, dude.”

“Is there a problem here?” Security materialized next to us.

“Oh no, we’re fine. Right, Brad?” Alyssa turned her megawatt smile on first the guard and then dudebro-Brad.

“Of course, darlin’. All good here.”

The guard looked at me and my sling, raising an eyebrow as I eyed him in return, noting that he was carrying. With clenched jaw, I turned my lips up in parody of a smile. “No problem.” I looked at my girlfriend, heart sinking.

“Alyssa?”

“Enjoy the concert.” Was all she said as she hooked her arm through Brad’s and walked off.

The guard scanned the crowd and then gave me a sympathetic look. “That your girl?”

“Was. I need a beer.”

“Bar’s all the way to the left. Enjoy the concert.”

I made my way through the crowd in a foul mood, cursing idiot drivers, faithless women, and all dudebros everywhere. People bumped into me and I snarled at them, until I finally reached the bar.

“Dos Equis.” Not my usual preference, but better than Bud Light or Corona.

“That’ll be five dollars, please.” Opening my mouth to bitch about the price, I looked up into gorgeous brown eyes. Mutely, I handed over the money and a good tip. She didn’t deserve my acidic mood.

“Here, hon.” I took the bottle and tried to smile, lost in her eyes. Brown wasn’t the right word for them – they were good dark whiskey with flecks of pure sunshine.

“Thanks.” I finally managed to spit out. Remembering the painkiller in my pocket, I set the beer down and awkwardly retrieved the baggie. The opening notes of “Father Figure” played, but I couldn’t care less. I washed the pill down and found a stool where I could see the bartender.

She bustled about, dodging her coworker with ease and filling orders with a smile. She was a little paler than your standard Texan cutie who worked these kinds of events, but she filled out her George Michael t-shirt in the best way. I couldn’t see below the bar, but I bet her boots weren’t purple.

I sat there, lost in dark musings interspersed with the light of her eyes that kept flicking my way.  The song “One More Try” eventually filtered through and I realized that I didn’t want to be here. I stood up and went to place the empty bottle on the bar, but the bar kept moving.

“Mister, you okay?” Whiskey-eyes came close once more. “I’ll be right with y’all!” She called over her shoulder to a particularly loud customer.

“M’fine.” I slurred, taking a step further away from the stools. Had there been two?

“You don’t look it.” She lifted the counter exit just in time for me to hit the ground once more, her brown cowboy boots inches from my face.

“Not…purple…” I mumbled, and then blackness took me.

I woke up with a someone shining a light in my eyes and tried to swat the both of them away. They leaned back and merged into the same EMT from two days ago.

“Hey there. You’re kinda cute and all, but we’ve got to stop meeting like this.” She teased me gently.

“Is he gonna be alright?” Whiskey-eyes was hovering, looking concerned.

“He just have one beer?” The bartender nodded in reply. “I’m guessing you’re on a pain med for your shoulder?” I tried to nod as well and the world spun. “Easy there. He’ll be alright, as long as he remembers that opiod plus alcohol equals bad. Got it?” She fixed me with the stern glare all medical professionals learn.

“Yeah, I got it.” I slowly sat up, leaning on my left arm.

“Good. You don’t look more hurt, but the meds make it hard to tell if you’ve got a concussion. Are you here with anyone?”

“Ye-no. Shit.”

“You need someone to sit with you and keep you awake for a few hours. And for goodness’ sake, don’t drive!”

“I can look out for him. That is if you’ll sit her until I’m done. Then I’ll drive you back to your place.” Whiskey-eyes offered.

I blinked at her. “You’re not worried that I’ll…hurt you? Not that I would, but I’m usually scary.”

“Seriously?” She grinned. “Big scary man who’s in a sling and unable to stand because he was dumb enough to wash his pain pill down with a beer?” She reached up and patted the thigh holster strapped over her jeans. “I’ll be fine.”

Damn, I must be messed up to have missed that. And damn, those jeans looked good.

“Alright, unless you want to go to the hospital again?” The EMT raised her eyebrow at me.

“No, thank you.”

“Thought not.” She stood up. “He gives you any trouble, just hit him in the shoulder. Less paperwork than shooting him.”

“Hey! Thought you EMS did no harm?!”

“Wouldn’t be me hurting you.” She reached down a hand. “Let’s get you back on a stool before I go.”

I remembered to ask Whiskey-eyes her name about the time we got to her car. It was Anna, “with two ‘N’s.” Anna took my apartment key from me after I fumbled to unlock the door left handed.

“I’m not usually so helpless, you know.” I grumbled and followed her in.

“And I’m not usually so take-charge. But needs must.”

“Why are you being so nice to a stranger?”

She stopped and looked at me, eyes shining and face honest as she replied, “Because you deserve it.”

I felt like she’d punched me in the shoulder and I sat down on the couch, too hard.

Anna clicked her tongue at my pained expression and walked into the kitchen with its pass-through wall. “That’s it, you need to eat before you take any more pills.”

“But I–”

“No buts.” She brandished the crazy green spatula I’d gotten at the dollar store. “I’m not afraid of you, mister.” While I was still staring stupidly, she raided the fridge. “How do you like your eggs?”

“What?”

“Eggs. You eat them. How?”

“Uh, scrambled with salsa on top.”

“Glad you said scrambled, cause that’s what I know how to do.” Her smile made my breath hitch.

My world had turned upside-down and I must have been still high, cause I liked it.

God bless idiot drivers and George Michael concerts.

.

[ticknart]

The Other Thing

The sun was warm on my shoulders as I pushed the trowel into the dark, moist dirt. As I turned the soil, I was glad I'd remembered my big straw hat; I didn't need another deep, painful sunburn on my neck. It was early enough in the year that a part of me wanted to lose the hat, though. The shade it created on my face felt chilly, especially when there was a breeze.

Still, despite the chill in the air and the sun on my back, I felt good being out in the garden again. With every breath, I smelled the deep aroma of the earth around me. When I used a claw to break up the harder chunks, the smell became stronger, muskier. Nothing smelled like gardening directly in the soil. The smell in my greenhouse seemed wrong, artificial somehow. Maybe because it was too easy. Getting on my knees and working with the earth smelled like life. These sunny, dry, early spring days were one of the two things I most lived for.

"Aunttany?" came a little voice behind me.

"Yes?" I replied, not looking up from my work.

"What 'cha doin'?"

A shadow passed over me as he came up next to me. I shivered as the cold moved up my back.

"I'm digging in the dirt," I said.

He let out a little grunt as he squatted next to me and asked, "Why?"

"To get it ready for the garden."

"Oh," he said.

He watched me dig and turn and claw in silence for several minutes. Something was on his mind. I was sure of it and was curious what he was thinking about. The mind of a four-year old was an amazing thing, but I didn't want to pry. Didn't want to push. When I did he'd just lock into himself, shut me out, and refuse to open up. The hardest and most important lesson I'd learned from him had been patience.

I turned to him and said, "Don't just sit there, Jorge, help your dear old Aunttany out."

His smile was full of an impossible number of teeth, "Really?"

"'Course. Did you think I'd want to do all this myself? Get your gloves and another trowel from the bucket."

"Can I get a claw, too?" He raised his clawed hands at me and growled.

"You gonna be careful?" I asked.

"'Course I am."

"Fine, then, but no running with it."

Jorge stood and hurried to the equipment bucket and started to root through it. He wasn't like other kids. He didn't just tip the bucket over or casually drop what he pulled out but didn't need; he pulled everything out, one at a time, made a pile for what he needed and one for everything else and then put it back with a deliberateness and focus most adults would never have. He amazed me every time I watched him.

I turned back to my work, back to my groove. Claw to loosen. Trowel to turn. Claw to break clods. Toss the rocks aside. Trowel to mix the former clods back in. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat until hungry or knees get sore or the wind gets too strong or the sun goes down.

He knelt beside me, sounding a little out of breath.

"You okay?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said, shoving his little hands into his gloves, "that bucket's heavy."

"Why did you lift the bucket?"

"I had to move it to by the door."

"Why did you move it? You weren't asked to move the bucket."

"I didn't want the grass to get hurt. It needs the sun to live." His dark eyes got big. "Doesn't it?"

I sighed, "Yes, it does." I sighed again. "Come on, grab that trowel and get started."

He did. We quickly fell into my usual pattern, with one exception: Jorge wouldn't let me throw the rocks away. He wanted them in a pile. "Together," he said. "Like a family."

After a while Jorge started to slow. He didn't stop digging or breaking dirt clods, but he didn't use the claw or trowel with any real force. He didn't seem tired, just listless.

He stopped working and sat up on his heels.

"Aunttany..." he said.

"Yeah."

"Why aren't you my mommy?"

I froze. This had been a question I knew would come, but like every inevitable question it came earlier than I hoped. It could have been so easy to avoid, too. From the very beginning I could have just told Jorge that I was his mother. I'd adopted him. I'd fed him. I'd clothed him. I loved him.

I couldn't outright lie to him, though, not about the big things, the important things. And telling him that he was my son would have been a lie. Except for Santa Claus, I'd been very careful not to lie to Jorge about anything. I'd loved his mother too much to do that.

God, he looked so much like her. They had the same big, dark eyes, untamable black hair, and olive skin. The shape of his face, though, and his nose belonged to his father. Fortunately, so far, that's all of my brother I'd seen in him.

I straightened my back and said, "You know I love you, Jorge, right?"

"'Course."

"And you know I'm like a mom, right?"

"Yeah. You 'dopted me."

"And that means...?"

"It means you picked me to be your son," he said. He paused, "How can I be your son, but you're not my mommy?"

I took a deep breath and said, "Because I don't ever want you to forget who your mother was."

"Iggy," he said. "The lady in that picture book."

After I left college, I moved out to California thinking that I'd be able to get into acting and become a big star. Then I'd show all those people who I was and they would be jealous of my fame and fortune.

It didn't quite work out the way I hoped, though. I made it into movies, just not the kind of movies that most people admit to each other they watch, even though they all are.

I tried. I tried really hard to get into real movies. I took classes to learn to act and get better control over my voice. I started to read more on my own because I used it to practice saying different lines. I tried to get an agent. And I went to every open casting call to get any kind of work that would eventually get me into the union.

That was where I met Iggy. Through a sea of white girls at a call asking for a twenty-something girl was one with dark skin. She sat next to me as the room cleared and we talked about living in LA and how hard it was to find work. She asked me what I did to make money and when I told her I was a waitress she got this half smile look on her face, because of course I was a waitress, wasn't that what all the hopeful starlets were? I laughed, she laughed, and I knew she could be my friend.

After I failed at the audition, she invited me up to her place, if I had nothing to do, which I didn't. She lived in a cute little 2-bedroom house up in Thousand Oaks. When we got there, I asked her about her roommates. She didn't have any roommates. I asked her how much her rent was. She didn't pay rent. I asked her how she could afford to own a house; she wasn't that much older than me, if she was having a tough time getting work, too.

She smiled her half smile and said she had a pretty regular gig.

When I asked her to tell about it, she brushed the question off, and I let it go, we'd just met. After hanging out for a month and running into each other at a couple auditions, I asked again. When she tried to brush it off I kept asking. I needed to know.

After she told me, I was shocked. I wondered how she could do something like that to herself. It was supposed to be private, something done with someone you care about, not in front a crew with crazy hot lights beating down on you. What did her family think of her?

She saw all of this on my face, I've never been particularly good at hiding my emotions, and said I could leave, she understood. I didn't, though. I sat and thought about it.

I mean, it's not like I only did it when I was in love with someone. Sometimes I just needed a release and sometimes that release just needed another person. And there was that one time at that party when I got a little tipsy and things got a little crazy and I gave a little show and reached out to help give a guy a happy ending. I looked at her house around me, her house.

Instead of leaving, I started to ask her about the work: How did the men on set act? Did she ever actually enjoy it? Was there any real acting? How often was it painful? What about disease? Is it okay to say no to doing some things? How much did she get paid? How long would it take for someone starting to get paid like that?

She answered all my questions and we moved on to regular thing.

A week later, my roommates booted me from our apartment and I moved in with Iggy. She hardly charged me anything.

When gas started to eat into too much of my budget and I couldn't find anything above fast food in Thousand Oaks, I asked her to make a call for me. She did. Two days later I went into an audition I didn't have to prepare for.

"Yeah," I said, a lump in my throat, "Iggy."

He thought for a minute and asked, "Why isn't she my mommy anymore?"

I sat down on my butt, crossed my legs, and pulled him into my lap. "She is your mommy," I said. "Don't ever think different."

"Then where is she?"

"She's, well, she isn't alive anymore."

"Why isn't she alive?"

We lived together for three years, me and Iggy.

During our second year in the house, my brother came to visit. He'd been so much better since he'd started taking his meds. So calm and generous. He was a different person. The kind of person I liked being around. The kind of person Iggy wanted to be with.

They fell in love.

He moved in with us. Lived with us. But he lived for Iggy.

There were times he forgot to take his meds. He felt so good about himself when he was with her that there were moments he thought he could be with her and off the medication and still be like everyone else. He couldn't though. I'd notice the signs of the frightening person he was -- the unfocused eyes, the flares of anger, the subtle threats -- and forced him to take the pills again by asking if he wanted to hurt Iggy. He'd get better again and be the man I'd always hoped he'd be.

Not long after they started sleeping together, Iggy got pregnant. Since my brother was the only man she let finish inside her, we all knew it was his and all three of us were thrilled.

My brother went nuts and bought all sorts of baby things he had to assemble. The floor of the living room was constantly covered with instruction and bits of wood and screws and tools.

Iggy stopped performing and started working behind the camera. She started by doing some writing then moved up to direct a scene for a compilation. After four or five scenes, she directed a full movie, with a belly so large she couldn't get behind a camera to actually look through it and had to depend solely on the monitors. As she went into labor she had just started to shoot another. She was brilliant.

Then, sooner than any of us expected, but right on time, Jorge was born. Dark hair on his head and dark skin and lungs that could cause tornadoes. It was a tiring, but good time.

As much as I loved living with Iggy and my brother and Jorge, the closer they got, the more uncomfortable I felt living there. I'd saved as much money as I could and thought I'd buy my own house. I had a nice down payment and work was steady, so I'd never have to worry about a mortgage, but I didn't want my house to be near Los Angeles. I figured I could own a place up north and then rent a room to stay in while I worked.

I made plans to stay in San Luis Obispo for two weeks. I'd vacation and while I was there hunt for houses around town and out at Morro Bay and Grover Beach.

On my eighth day, I got a weird text from Iggy. A jumble of letters. I thought maybe she sat on her phone or something.

The next day there was a hang-up from her waiting in my voice mail.

The day after that, she finally got through to me. She was crying and saying something about being afraid of my brother. Being afraid he'd hurt Jorge.

Without thought, I got in my car and sped down 99 to reach them.

I got to the house. Everything was quiet on the street. I got out of my car and up to the door and could hear Jorge crying. I burst though and rushed to Iggy's bedroom.

The bedroom was in immaculate condition, except for the absolute horror. I saw everything, but in the moment all I knew was I had to get Jorge and get him out of there. No time to react.

I started to sob. I pulled myself together enough to tell the person on the other end what I needed and where. She asked me if I wanted to stay on the line. I said no, hung up, and vomited on the hood of my car.

What I saw in the bedroom became clear in my mind. My brother had gotten a gun from somewhere. He came home. He found Iggy in the bedroom, probably just after putting Jorge down, and shot her. He then shot himself. If someone as dumb as me could figure that out, there'd be no need for a detective.

After I wiped my mouth off, I held Jorge close to me. I don't think I let him go for the next three days.

I sighed, "Because you daddy, as much as he loved you and Iggy, was sick. Not normal, barfy sick, but sick in his head. If he forgot to take his medicine for too long, he'd get really angry."

"Like when I broke the window?"

"Not like that. He'd get angry and he'd hurt people."

He looked at me, not understanding.

"He hurt your mom. He hurt her real bad and then he hurt himself."

"Oh," he said, looking away from me.

"Even though she's not around, she's still your mom. I want you to remember that she loved you more than anything else."

"Uh huh," he said, nodding.

"And even though I'm just your aunt," I hugged him as tight as I could, "I love you and am going to love you as much as any mommy out there."

"Okay," he said in a know-it-all way, pushing himself off my lap and standing.

"Good," I said. "How's tuna sound for lunch?"

"Look," he said, pointing down the block, "the mail man!"

"Why don't you go to the box and meet him and get the mail. I'll clean up and then we can go get something to eat."

"'Kay," he said, running to the sidewalk.

I picked up the tools, carried them over to the bucket, and dropped them in. I pulled off my gloves and shook them off before dropping them in, too. Jorge still had his glove on. The mail was going to be filthy.

"You know," he said as he walked toward me, "we both have the same last name."

"I know," I said, "it was your father's last name, too."

He looked down at the envelope and slowly read, "Bri-tan-ee tay-lor. Brittany Taylor." He looked up at me and smiled, "You have a good name, Aunttany."

"You do, too, Jorge."

This was written in 2010 and originally posted at thepaperpusher.net.

The challenge was: "Write a fic, as long as needed to get the idea through the readers head, where a character reflects about their life by telling a story about themselves to their friends, kids, grandkids, ect. First the identity of the storyteller cannot be revealed until the end. They could be referred to simply as he, she, mom, grandfather, you get the idea.Second, the story can ether be an event in canon or something else of your choice."

If you came through the tags the surprise may have been ruined though.

[slayercordelia]

Omg, number 24 for the bellarke prompts please!!!!

gosh, the twenties are quite popular aren’t they :) thank you so much for sending in this request it makes me so happy !!!

24 - “you’re the only one i trust to do this.”

It was nine thirty-five on a Monday morning when Bellamy Blake got a call from Clarke Griffin.

He was greeted by a cough, sniffle and “I’m sick!”

“Well I would offer to look up your symptoms on WebMD but it seems all that knowledge from the half of your pre-med course you actually did take have helped you work it out yourself,” he said, smiling cockily, he was pretty proud of that little burn.

“Ha, ha!” she coughed out in a dull, unamused monotone. “Well I’m sure that brilliant fully completed history degree you got there will really come in handy when I get all the good articles and you end up writing, yet again, about Mrs. Smith across the road’s terrible disdain for modern technology. I’d love to see you put yet another spin on that one,” she grumbled back.

Being sick may have made her sniffly but it in no way deminished her ability to completely and utterly destroy him.

“Ouch, did you call for any reason other than to make me feel bad about all my life decisions up until this point?” he asked, tapping his pen on the desk.

“Not all, I did like that one decision you made last week when you got me a coffee on Thursday morning, that one was nice,” she said in joking contemplativeness.

“It was buy one get one free, Clarke.”

“Okay, well whatever. I’m calling because I kind of need you to cover my Person of Interest interview for me today?” she asked reluctantly. He could practically see her wincing on the other end.

“Claaaarke-” he groaned, tipping his head back in his seat, but he didn’t get a chance to launch into a full grumble-rant. She knew the tell-tale signs by now, and how to avoid at all costs.

“Look, I know this isn’t ideal I get it you have a life too surprisingly enough, but you’re the only one I trust to do this. Please Bellamy,” she whined, a sound made ten times more unbearable than usual with her croaky throat.

He sighed loudly so he knew she could hear it. “Are you sure there’s no-one else?” he asked, strained.

He knew there was nobody else in this office she was willing to even contemplate giving such a responsibility to. She trusted him and him alone, they were a set, the ‘wonder twins’ as their Editor-in-Chief Marcus Kane liked to say.

“Oh, yeah, and allow our resident “Cheech and Chong” impersonators Jasper and Monty double-team the youngest CEO in the history of the city?” she exclaimed incredulously. “Seriously! Think about it! There’s a reason the two of them have been banned from doing a Person of Interest interview ever again, even individually!”

It was a funny image, and he did let out a few chuckles while playing out the scenario in his head. They were talking about the same two guys that had asked the Mayor if he had got divorced because of his apparent gay affair with the Seahawks coach on the grounds that ‘the people wanted to know’. THE MAYOR! They were lucky he thought it was a joke about their friendship and didn’t truly understand quite what they were getting at. The idea of letting them talk to a professional businessman at all after the bollocking they received was enough to make even Roan smile slightly.

“Okay, but are you really sure it has to be me? There’s really nobody else?” he asks, biting his lip.

“Nobody but you Bell, it has to be you, you’re the only one I can count on,” she said and he didn’t even try to hide the beam on his face (of course, if she could see him, it would have been more of a small contemplative grin because of course he didn’t care whether she depended on him alone or not).

“Besides,” she started, “it could get all 50 Shades you know, young CEO, she’s attractive too. Oooh, but wait you have to be okay with bondage because otherwise it could be a deal-breaker,” she chuckled lightly which came out as more of a crackle through his shitty phone.

“Ha ha!” he replied monotonously like she had done.

“I’m serious!” she giggled, “you could meet the Christina Grey to your Andrew Steele.”

“Well I’m glad the tapes of my kinky interview with your sex-fiend CEO will bring you great pleasure to listen back on.”

“So is that a yes?!” she squealed and he moved the phone away from his ear.

“That’s a yes Griffin, I’ll have the tapes on your desk tomorrow morning,” he sighed, smile still prominent.

“Gosh! Thank you so much! You’re a life saver!” The relieved grin was pretty much audible.

“Oh, and Clarke,” he started, smug smile now slapped across his face, “I would have done it as soon as you asked. It’s just nice to know that I’m ‘the only one you trust’ and ‘the only one you can count on’.”

“You bastard!” she laugh coughed.

“So you leave your big profile in my apparently extremely dependable hands and then call me a bastard? That’s not very polite.”

“I’m hanging up now!”

“See you tomorrow Griffin.”

“Later Blake.”

Around four hours and ten episodes of The Office later, there was a knock on Clarke’s door. She groaned as she pushed herself up from her sofa and pulled her duvet tighter around her shoulders.

“I swear to god if you’re trying to sell me more cookies this isn’t going to end well!” she shouts, unbolting the door.

There, in her doorway, holding a red container and a tape recorder was none other than Bellamy Blake.

“Sorry, I think girl scouting ended last week, but can I interest you in a tape recording of a particularly saucy interview I just partook in?” he grins.

She groans, rubbing her eyes. Yup, he was still there. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“You’re sick so… I brought you soup! My mum always made me leek and potato soup when I was ill, and I always made it for Octavia. Guaranteed recovery within a day, the Blakes swear by it,” he keeps flashing her that winning smile.

“You brought me soup?!” She chuckles slightly in disbelief and there’s a smile on her face, the kind that only comes with the overwhelming surge of appreciation when those you care about care for you. And it doesn’t go unnoticed by Bellamy.

“Well, the soup and the interview, I thought you’d want to review this footage immediately,” he grinned like he was telling a joke she wasn’t supposed to understand just yet, “oh, and also, the soup’s cone cold. Turns out I don’t actually own a flask.”

He holds out what he brought her and instead of taking them she widens her door, “Well since you went to all this effort to get this to me, you should get to enjoy the miracle soup too. The stove’s in the kitchen, I trust you can reheat it yourself? I’m simply too ill,” she grins, coughing for dramatic effect. He half-sighs through his smile as he steps through her doorframe and over to her kitchen.

“Of course, I’d never want to put you out of your way Princess.”

She turns on the cooker for him and hops onto one of the barstools around the surface in the middle of her kitchen.

“Well… you were right,” he says, pouring the soup into a pan.

“Hmmmnn, I usually am but about so many things, you’re going to have to be more specific,” she says, tracing spirals on the counter top.

“The CEO,” he says, like he really doesn’t want to have to elaborate.

“Still lost here Cryptic Christopher, if you hadn’t noticed I’m slightly ill and my brain isn’t working at it’s usual capacity.”

“She hit on me,” he says with a slightly embarrassed chuckle of disbelief. He had his back to her so she just had to imagine the blush on his cheeks (it wasn’t difficult).

Clarke’s so stunned her head snaps up and she actually has a coughing fit, “No way!”

“I know,” he said, scratching his neck with his free non-stirring hand.

“Well, what did she say? What did you say? Was she nice? Is there a future? Shall I start the wedding plans?” she questions, bewildered with a touch of… something.

“I’m not giving you any spoilers, you just gotta listen to the tapes,” he teased.

“Oh, Blake, come on you can’t do that to me!” Now it’s her turn to grumble.

“Oh, Griffin, yes I can,” he mocks. “All I’m saying is… there’s a higher comedic value if you listen to it without any prior knowledge.”

“Oh God, that bad?”

“No spoilers!”

“I can’t wait!” she grins, the grip of the something gone.

“Careful with that,” he almost scolds, pointing at the spoon full of soup in her hand once he’d served it up into two bowls, “you gotta blow on it before you put it on your mouth, it’s too hot otherwise.”

“That’s what she said,” she states proudly and bursts into laughter.

He gives her a disbelieving smile which makes her laugh even more. “You… are two years old. Are you sure this cold hasn’t got serious neurological repercussions?���

“Sorry, it’s The Office, I’ve been rewatching it all day. There was nothing else to do.”

The disbelieving grin intensifies.

“So you mean to tell me that while I’ve been slaving away doing all your dirty work like a bitchboy, you’ve been sat on your ass watching Michael Scott make an idiot out of himself over and over again.”

“Maybe?” she says, more like a guilty rhetorical question, stirring her soup.

“Well that is just not acceptable, which Jim prank are we on now?” Bellamy asks, looking over at the screen and picking up his bowl to move to the sofa.

She follows him, filling him in on where she’s at and bringing the pan of soup to the coffee table.

It feels natural. Her and him, him and her. Sat in the middle of her beaten leather sofa reciting iconic lines, eating magical soup, comparing the characters to their own unbelievable colleagues (Miller was a definite Stanley). It’s comfortable, like they should have been doing this all along, and when Wells slams the front door shut as he gets home from work and she wakes up with her head on his shoulder and his hand resting loosely round her shoulder it doesn’t feel uncomfortable at all. Which is saying something because Bellamy Blake is possibly the most awkward person she’s ever met.

And after he leaves when he sees the time she feels a little better than before.

But we’ll credit that to Blake’s miracle soup.

read more of these two idiots working together here

hit me up with a number (or if you’re feeling extra funky, come up with your own prompt) and i’ll write you a hopefully satisfactory co-worker drabble :)))