#he showers quickly (always has considering how many kids used to share the bathroom in the house growing up) and emerges pink in the cheeks

[heich0e]

i'm sure i'm not the first to say it but considering the official umemiya bedhead art i can't help but think of the quiet intimacy of hajime letting you (or asking you) to do his hair for him first thing in the morning.

[outercrasis]

Sessions

Pairing: College!Din Djarin x F!Reader

Rating: Mature (18+)

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: References to sex, masturbation (nothing actually occurs)

Summary: After meeting Mando, you just can’t seem to get him out of your head. (events directly follow Introductions)

A/N: Thanks for the kind reception to the first post of this AU! I’ll be making a masterlist soon for easier navigation :) Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future posts or if I’ve missed a warning.

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Lingering Impressions

Your day ended up being an exhausting one. Mando had been your most exciting session for more reasons than just the obvious. You'd reviewed the papers of two freshmen, a junior who wanted you to basically write their paper for them, and another graduate student who disregarded every suggestion you made. Needless to say, Mando's gratitude felt extra special after all of that.

Getting home, you're greeted with the welcome smell of something delicious coming from the kitchen as you throw yourself face-first into the couch. The open floorplan of your tiny two bedroom apartment allows Layla to spot you as you wander in.

"Hello to you too!" she calls over. "I'm making chicken marsala."

You lift your head up from the watermelon-shaped throw pillow to smile at her. "You are a saint and I don't deserve you."

"You totally don't," Layla teases back, happily returning to the stove. You flip over on the couch, mindlessly scrolling through your phone while she finishes making dinner. A comfortable silence fills the room, interrupted only by Layla's hums and the discordant sounds of cooking.

Layla has been your roommate since your sophomore year of college, randomly paired together by the dorm sorting system and inseparable ever since. The two of you clicked, a friendship forged over the awkwardness of early adulthood and a shared love of terrible reality TV. Both of you keep busy schedules while pursuing your respective master’s degrees and help each other out where you can. Making dinners for each other is just a part of that.

It’s not long before Layla brings over two steaming plates of food to lay out on your thrifted coffee table. She sits opposite you, preferring to sit on the floor rather than the couch. You’re eager to dig in, groaning at the first bite.

“I’ll take that as a thank you,” Layla grins, tucking into her own meal.

“God yes.”

“Long day then?”

You groan again, this time in irritation rather than pleasure. “Yes. I don’t know how many more know-it-all grad students I can deal with.”

She’s heard all about your nightmare sessions with students that think they already know everything. You’ve questioned more than once why they bother booking the session if they're just going to ignore your advice and decide their paper is perfect as is. It seems like a total waste of time for both you and them. 

Layla sympathizes and shares her own gripes about some of the assholes she's forced to put up with while working on her research project. After all, no group project is complete without the one person who does nothing but acts like they know everything. Giving each other time to vent another small way the two of you take care of each other.

As you think back on your day and sessions your mind inevitably drifts to Mando. He hadn’t been anything like you’d expected. He was kind in his own way and by far the most amenable session you’d had all day. Not taking off the helmet was odd, as was not giving out his real name, but neither of those had really bothered you when it came down to it. If anything, they only serve to fascinate you further.

“Did something else happen today?” Layla asks, a spark lighting up in her eyes. She can always read you, something that can be either a blessing or a curse depending on what it is you're hiding. You take a few more bites before answering, already anticipating her reaction.

“Well I might have also met Mando today,” You try to throw it out there casually, hoping that if you treat it as though it’s not a big deal she’ll follow your lead. You should have known better.

“You what!? Tell me everything,” Layla screeches at you from across the coffee table. She pushes her food off to the side, clearly deciding that your unexpected meeting with campus's resident celebrity is far more important.

"He came in for a session. His paper was really good, it-"

Layla is quick to cut you off. "I literally couldn't care less about that and you know it. Tell me about him, what's he like? Is he terrifying?"

You can’t help but snort at that. You know why she asked of course - the rumors flying around about him getting out of hand these days - but when you think about him now they all seem ludicrous. The gentle way he spoke to Grogu and offered his hand out to the kid before leaving. The sincerity in his voice as he spoke to you, eager to hear any advice you had to give him. No. Mando was decidedly not terrifying. “He’s… just a guy,” you tell her, not really sure how to explain his unique presence.

The eyeroll you receive in response is warranted. “Are you kidding me right now? You probably know more about him than anyone else on campus and you’re going to tell me he’s just a guy?”

You shrug, shoveling another bite of food into your mouth. “I don’t know what to tell you Lays, I only spent an hour with him. He was nice, really sweet with his kid, and I’ll probably never see him again.”

You’re not sure why you feel a quick sting in your chest at that thought. It wasn’t like you knew him well or that he even owed you anything. Considering the fact that you’d gone weeks without so much as glimpsing him on campus you’d probably only have another chance to see him if he signed up for another session and there was no guarantee he’d return.

“So the kid thing is true?” Layla asks.

“Yeah. Really cute kid, pretty quiet.” Very quiet now that you think of it. You don’t have much experience with kids that young, but you’re certain kids Grogu’s age can talk. He hadn’t said so much as a word, only letting out an occasional noise or two. It was odd, but then he could just be shy or something. Another question you’d probably never have an answer for.

“Is the kid his?” Layla presses.

“I don’t know, it didn’t exactly come up while we discussed his paper on unique material applications,” you snap back at her. You wince a little at your sharp reply. It wasn’t deserved. Layla was simply curious and now the victim of your long day and swirling thoughts.

You quickly follow up with an apology. “Sorry. I just- I had a long day and I really didn’t learn much about him, okay?” 

There’s a small sense of relief when Layla nods, backing down from her inquisition. “It’s cool, I get it. Just promise you’ll tell me if you see him again?”

“Yeah, I’ll let you know.” 

The rest of the night passes like usual. You wash up after dinner, a fair trade since Layla cooked, and the two of you get to tackling homework that’s begun to pile up with the semester entering its full swing. Nighttime study sessions have been a regular occurrence since your undergrad days and have only intensified while pursuing your respective graduate degrees. It’s more about solidarity and accountability than shared workload, what with your program being in English and Layla’s in Marketing, but it’s nice. Simply having company is better than doing it all by yourself.

Around 10:30 you call it, eyes bleary from staring at your laptop. Layla is deep into a PDF reading so you leave her to her work and shuffle off to the shared bathroom. While the water heats, you brush your teeth lazily, going through the motions of your nightly routine. You test the water with your hand before deciding it’s warm enough to step in.

Your thoughts drift aimlessly as you stand under the hot stream, unfocused until they land back on him. It’s like you can’t help yourself, the way your thoughts have been returning to him all night. You’ve puzzled about him before, but only in the abstract. A hypothetical more than a real person. Wondering if rumors are true isn't quite the same as wondering about the man himself. 

All throughout the night he kept popping up. One moment you would be considering the symbolic use of color in your assigned reading and the next you would be puzzling over Mando’s favorite color. Maybe orange, if his gloves were anything to go by. Layla's favorite song played and while she sang along you couldn't help wondering what kind of music he listens to. Rock probably, or was that too on the nose? As you sipped your drink you wondered what his drink of choice would be, alcoholic or not. Did he even drink alcohol at all? Something told you he wasn’t much for losing his inhibitions.

It's all the little things, all the little details that actually make up a person that no one bothers to speculate about that consume you now. Who cares about his favorite movie or favorite food when you can guess on whether or not he's been to jail?

As you wash the grime of the day from your body, your mind continues to drift further, settling onto the first thing that captured your attention earlier today. His hands. Those gorgeous sun soaked hands, how fluidly they moved across his keyboard. The firm hold of them when he shook your hand.

Eyes fluttering closed, you can't help imagining that it's his hands skating across your skin. You can almost feel the gentle roughness of them, the way he'd squeeze and hold you - tight, but not so hard that it hurts. Almost unconsciously, your hand begins to drift down your body, only to be interrupted by a pounding on the bathroom door. Your eyes snap open, confusion and embarrassment replacing your fantasy.

"Hurry up in there! I need to pee," Layla yells through the door.

You grumble in response, knowing she can't hear you, but quickly finish your shower. It's not quite as relaxing anymore, flustered by your wanton thoughts. 

Getting back into your room, you check your email before setting your alarms for tomorrow. There’s the usual spam from online stores reminding you of limited time deals, a reminder that rent is due next week (lovely), and a couple generic university emails. Your eyes fall to your new tutoring appointment emails and you flick through them mindlessly to clear them out, knowing they’ll all automatically appear on your calendar. 

Just as you’re about to close out of the app and get some well needed rest, a new email pops through. It’s another appointment alert scheduled for next week. You tap to open it and your heart flutters when you read the name on the form. Mando. No need to wonder about if you’d ever see him again now. You’d be seeing him Tuesday at 3 PM. Somehow you know he won’t miss his appointment.

×××××

Din is exhausted. Between Grogu, classes, and trying to find ways to make money, he barely has enough time to do basic functional adult things. Things like showering regularly, eating more than a required minimum of once a day, or heaven help him sleep. 

He wishes he could afford a regular babysitter, allow himself some occasional reprieve but it's not possible. He makes just enough to keep the bills paid and at least Grogu's stomach full. There's also an ever present paranoia about letting a stranger into his home, much less to watch his son. Only Paz and Cara have ever babysat for him and even that was mostly against his will.

Din slumps onto his couch, exhausted from the long day. He’d found the couch on the side of the road. It’s well worn and has a couple holes in it, but it was devoid of fleas, comfortable, and most importantly, free. His helmet is off, sitting on the kitchen table where he’d left it after getting home from campus. He’s mostly used to it these days, but sometimes it can still feel suffocating underneath the custom bucket. Taking it off at the end of the day is always welcome, especially when Din sees Grogu’s eyes light up at his exposed face.

He allows himself just a moment of rest, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the back of the couch. Grogu had finally gone to bed, demanding three stories before he fell asleep and Din not having it within him to deny the requests. A small smile rests on his lips, thinking of Grogu's excitement at his mediocre storytelling. He already loathes the day when Grogu won't ask him to read anymore.

There are about twenty other things he should be doing right now other than sitting on the couch. The apartment hasn't been cleaned properly in weeks, dishes are piling up, laundry needs to be done, he needs to find a job for this weekend, should probably find better daycare for Grogu, has an exam to study for, and a paper to finish writing. He should be doing all of that and more, and yet he can't find the will to move. He stays planted firmly on the couch, letting his thoughts drift. A few different ideas and ruminations swirl around, but his mind settles onto one. Her.

She isn't what he had been expecting. When his professor had recommended a session with a writing tutor he'd been a little miffed at first. Din knew words weren't his strong suit, but he hadn't thought he was that bad. He probably wouldn't have even considered it if she hadn't immediately assured him that it was only a suggestion because she saw potential in his work.

He had still only been considering it, form half filled out, when Grogu had hit submit. He’d looked for a way to cancel the appointment, but couldn’t figure it out with the school’s poorly designed website, so instead he had resigned himself to going. After all, just the one session couldn't hurt and he'd already be on campus.

He thought the tutor would be some irritating know-it-all, pointing out all the mistakes in his paper. Either that, or that they'd be too nervous to make any real criticisms. He’d noticed the way people froze up around him, sometimes too timid to even look in his direction. She wasn't either of those things.

She was all smiles and kindness, not hesitant around him for a moment. Even Grogu took an immediate liking to her, as evidenced by the gift of his frog drawing. Din had more of those than he could count, but very few others had been bestowed the honor of his sacred amphibian themed artworks.

She challenged him in a way he liked, not rude but still forceful. Encouraging him to figure out what it was she was guiding him towards with the paper. Not taking ownership, simply identifying where ideas could be made stronger or clearer. They’d only worked through a few pages in the session and Din already felt more confident in his writing. 

What he liked most though was that she hadn't even asked about the helmet. It was all he heard from those brave enough to speak to him. Where did he get it, why did he wear it, did he ever take it off, what does he look like underneath, and so on. Avoiding all of those questions got to be draining. She didn't even acknowledge it.

She had mentioned the rumors that were apparently swirling around campus about him but that was it. He was a bit grateful for that though, entirely unaware of how popular he'd apparently become. The stares that followed him on campus were hard to ignore, but he didn’t know about their accompanying whispers. He still isn’t sure if the rumors are a good or a bad thing. Her reaction hadn’t given him all that much to go off of. He wishes it had.

That thought stops Din short. Where did that come from? Why did her opinion of him suddenly matter after a single one hour session? Din can’t remember the last time he considered someone else’s opinion of him. Probably when he first brought Grogu home to meet everyone. Now here he is, wondering what his English tutor’s thoughts were about the rumors everyone has been spreading about him. He needs to get out more.

Din shakes his head free, trying to ponder other aspects of his life. Like when he’d be able to get the Razor Crest up and running again. She’d broken down again after only the second week of classes. Paz makes fun of him for riding on such an old bike, but she’s a classic. Din can’t get rid of her, no matter how much she likes to break down on him. In the meantime he could make due with the loaner truck from Peli.

Thoughts of his motorcycle only distract him for so long though. He realizes half-way through the fantasy that he’s imagining taking her out on his bike, feeling her hands clasped around his waist as he rides through the city. The way she’d hang on just a little tighter, pressing herself against his back, as he hits the throttle just a bit harder.

Din sits up on the couch and mutters to himself. “Come on, Djarin. Pull it together.”

She’s beautiful, yes, but to already be fantasizing about taking her for a ride? That’s a bit much. It has been months since Din has seen any kind of action, but he shouldn’t be this desperate after spending only an hour with a pretty face. Still, now that he’s thinking of it, his mind wanders to what she’d be like. 

Would she take charge, calm and in control like she was earlier today? Or would she submit to him, allow him to do whatever he wanted? A small groan escapes Din’s lips at the thought of having her beneath him, begging for him to take her. How she would look spread out on his bedsheets, how sweet she’d taste. He can already imagine how good she’d feel wrapped around him, the way her eyes would look all strung out and cockdumb. It would be a beautiful sight if he’s ever lucky enough to see it.

An alarm Din forgot he set suddenly blares on his phone. He can’t even remember what he set it for as he’s yanked from his lewd imaginings, scrambling to turn it off. There’s a small wave of embarrassment as he registers where he allowed his thoughts to drift. 

Ignoring the uncomfortable pressure in his jeans, Din pulls up the tutoring appointment form on his phone and signs up for another session. There’s an option to select a specific tutor and he’s quick to open it up, choosing her name from the drop down menu. 

There’s nothing wrong about this, right? She’d helped him with his paper and Grogu liked her. She even asked if she’d be seeing him again. That was plenty of reason to have another session. His renegade fantasies had nothing to do with his decision to go back. Din is a man in control of his urges. If anything, this next session would prove that his thoughts were all just fleeting, just a simple result of going too long without anyone in his bed.

.

.

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taglist: @honestly-shite​ @booksarekindaneat​ @wonderless-screwup​ @pinkninja200​ @captain-jebi​ @ajeff855​ @leias-rebelion​ 

Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated 💕

[selfwriting-sugarquills]

70 George Weasley headcanons in celebration of 700 followers!

A/N: I hate to repeat myself but I do still love and appreciate all 700 of you! Thank you for reading my stuff and here’s to 700 more! <3 

Find the 70 Fred Headcanons: Here 

George is well known to be the brains behind the twins’ operations. He sorted out finding the location for the shop in Diagon Alley, he came up with most of the names for their products, even if Fred came up with the idea for the product itself, and for the longest time, he was the one who sorted out sales and orders for stocking their wares as well as overseeing the owl post-service while Fred sorted the more practical parts.

It might sound crazy, but if you ask George, he didn’t actually like Fred very much until they were about eight or nine years old. George was a lot more quiet and emotional than Fred and frankly, probably feared his mother more than his twin, and so George always thought Fred was too brash for his liking. Eventually, as we know, Fred’s crazy ideas rubbed off on George, and he started liking his twin more and more until they became the inseparable duo we know and love today. Mostly this was because the two found out how well they complimented each other, which meant that whatever they got up to turned out a lot better than when they’d attempt the same alone. 

Fred added an extra oomph to their escapades, daring to aim just a little higher, and George was sensible enough to make sure that a little higher wasn’t too high. 

It’s only their older siblings who noticed this change and remember the times where Fred and George didn’t get along as well as they did, which is why Bill, Charlie and Percy tend to treat the twins more as individuals whereas Ginny and Ron are more likely to see them as a duo. 

Since George is more sentimental, he’s also the bigger worrier. Did they like that joke? Did that prank go too far? Is this worth it and what are we going to do if it isn’t? He’s usually also the twin who’s more likely to step back and apologise to anyone they’ve pranked or teased, not liking the idea of upsetting someone.  

This also means he’s incredibly considerate concerning relationships, he’s not afraid to voice his concerns and worries. If his s/o is struggling with something, he notices, worries and tries his best to support them. 

Essentially, if their s/o is upset: Fred is more likely to make a joke to make them laugh and take their mind off it, George is more likely to take them aside and talk to them about it, letting them let their feelings out for as long as they need, he’ll listen for hours if that’s what his s/o needs. 

Speaking of letting feelings out: It’s been pondered if the reason George is the better beater, despite Fred being the more brash and extreme of the two, is because he uses the quidditch pitch as an outlet for his aggression and considering his anger doesn’t just involve beating bludgers but also resorting to elbowing people in the face (or beating Malfoy up) I’d say that this is incredibly true for him. Most people share the opinion that if something angers George, he’d let it build up until he explodes (myself included) and playing quidditch is a good way to let off steam without it being directed at anyone in particular, making him extremely violent on the pitch, though after every game he plays, he’ll probably be in his most zen and relaxed state of mind.

I do also like the idea of George being very emotionally mature in the sense that he knows how his feelings tend to build up, and since George is also a worrier, he probably doesn’t like the side of him that explodes in people’s faces and yells until he’s done being angry, so: He does try to confront his feelings as soon as he feels them so they don’t get a hold on him. If he’s angry with you, he’ll tell you, if he’s upset because of something that’s happened he’ll tell you. If he doesn’t and seems all quiet and broody (cause he’s not a saint and sometimes he doesn’t confess his feelings) then it’s probably a good idea that you ask him about it. 

George is also not afraid to cry, or at least he’s not as afraid to show it as Fred. He actually cried quite often as a small child, as Fred will happily remind him. The only times George will hold his tears back is when he doesn’t want to make the people he loves the most worry, like when he lost his ear. 

He was so close to crying he thought his throat would split open but he kept it in while his parents and Fred were there; he couldn’t bear to worry his mother more. Not to mention Fred for that matter. Instead, he waited until he was allowed to take a shower and let it out as quietly as he could, though little did he know Fred was standing guard on the other side of the bathroom door, crying as well. 

George doesn’t want a lot of children, he’s so used to the large family dynamic. It’s not that he disliked having many siblings but he’d prefer to have a few kids, three at most and be able to spoil them rotten. 

George has only broken one bone. It was his collarbone from a bludger. Besides that, he has dislocated his arm once due to hitting a bludger too forcefully from a wrong angle and sprained his ankle from landing too quickly more times than he can count. He’s also been concussed from taking bludgers to the head twice. 

George is actually a bit of a neat-freak. He likes having things in order and in the right place so he doesn’t lose track of things. He can’t put too many things in cupboards because if he can’t see them he’ll forget he has them and buy more and more (cause ADHD, baby), so instead he keeps things where he can see them, though in racks and specific orders which Fred often messes up.

Generally, once they moved out, George was better at doing the housework and he didn’t mind at all. Doing all the housework means it gets done the way he wants it done. 

His favourite season is winter and his favourite holiday is Christmas because it’s “a time for family”. 

George prefers Molly over Arthur (though it’s a tough pick), and he especially loves spoiling her once the shop takes off. He’ll buy her gifts often and always writes to remind her how much he (and Fred) appreciate her. 

He’d never admit it but he also does this as a way of proving himself to her. It really hurt him in those years where Molly would disapprove of his and Fred’s plans and even when he found success he still grappled with the feeling of his mother not being proud of him, despite her telling him that several times. All this just added to his disliking of Percy when he was at his going through his insensitive-git-phase.  

 George’s favourite time of day is the evening. When everything’s quiet and still he can concentrate better. He wrote most of his essays and came up with most products for the shop during this time. 

George loves intimacy. He’s not big on PDA. Cuddling alone together, being all tangled up in each other and having whispered conversations when everyone else is asleep are more his thing. 

He does love being close to you in public though, he’ll sit next to you, hold your hand, have an arm around you, lean his head on yours, bump his knee against yours under the table if you’re in a lesson or at a meal together. Small yet intimate touches are George’s romantic love language. 

George’s favourite sweet is chocolate. Anything with chocolate is good. If there’s caramel or coffee involved too then even better, mint is also accepted (his favourite flavour of ice cream is mint chocolate chip and he will fight you on why it’s the superior ice cream flavour) 

George prefers tea over coffee and drinks AT LEAST two cups a day but can easily have up to four or five depending on how long his day is. 

George takes a lot of naps. He’d occasionally nap at Hogwarts, like most students. He really started after he lost his ear because Molly kept fussing over him and forcing him to go lay down and rest, then it became even more of a regular thing after the battle of Hogwarts when he’d stay with Fred at st. Mungo’s, while he got better, and then when Fred forced him to go back to work because “sitting here, is not going to make my leg work, now go make us some galleons you git!” he’d work the shop mostly by himself, well, actually completely by himself beside his employees, which was still a small team at the time and he’d often just have to excuse himself to go upstairs and take 30 minutes to nap before he’d pass out from exhaustion. 

George struggles with some sensory problems since losing his ear, he gets a faint ringing sound in his ear every now and then, and though he can hear out of his missing ear, it’s less than his other one and he struggles determining where sounds are coming from which is distracting sometimes. He also got a bit of vertigo every now and then as well as some nausea for the first few years after he lost the ear, it got better and better and today it barely bugs him, though he gets dizzy easily.

On the subject of the ear: George enjoyed telling his nieces and nephews (and heck his own kids too) these wild stories of how he lost his ear: he paid it as a toll to an ancient spirit to gain superpowers, it froze off on a particularly cold camping trip with their uncle Fred, a bludger blew it right off, he was possessed by the spirit of van Gogh…. the list goes on. 

George was also slightly self-conscious of his ear for a while, he often worried if people were grossed out by it, though with time he forgot about it more and more until he hardly noticed it himself. Now he doesn’t notice if others notice and frankly, he couldn’t care less if they do.

Fred and George mention in OOTP that they took turns testing products, George tested puking pastilles and ended up taking several days off because of what Madam Pomfrey thought was a bad case of the stomach flu, nosebleed nougat (he said himself how it kept bleeding and at that point he let Fred do more testing because Madam Pomfrey was starting to get wayyy to suspicious of him having some terrible disease that was thought to be long gone) and fever fudge though Fred also tried that one. 

George takes after his mother as a parent, his platonic love language is definitely cooking for his kids, making them hot cocoa and baking with them during Christmas breaks. 

Does he fuss over his kids as Molly does? Noo, absolutely not no. no way. no. no. (yes)  

George’s boggart is being left alone. 

Despite that, he hates it when people assume that he and Fred are interchangeable and incapable of being without each other. He loves his friendship with Fred, he’s very happy to be his twin but he’s still his own person and it would be nice to be seen as such and not just “one of the Weasley twins” 

Mostly his hatred of being seen as “one of the Weasley twins” stems from the fact that people always assume Fred first, meaning George has been mistakenly called Fred more times than he can count. 

George is very timid, to begin with, in any relationships because he’s worried his s/o wants him to be like Fred, and that they don’t really care about him as a person but see him more as an asset or “the next best thing to Fred” Which is also why he’d never marry Angelina after she’d dated Fred, even if it was just for a while. 

George spent his first salary from the shop on a gift for his mother, a necklace, and a mixed bag of sweets from Sugarplums'...He knows it’s stupid but he just wanted to buy as much candy as he wanted without feeling guilty about spending money for once. 

George is not squeamish what so ever. He has got a stomach of steel. It’s almost kind of freaky how unfaced he is but then again, he did invent and test puking pastilles and a product called you-no-poo, so he’s seen a lot.

George’s favourite dates are movie nights and going for ice cream. 

George (and Fred) regularly attends quidditch matches, they also love to go back to Hogwarts to watch their kids play (you know at least one of their kids would be into it, considering the Weasley’s history with the sport) and they always yell out their support v e r y loudly. 

George really likes wine. The older he gets he appreciates it more and enjoys talking about it without any knowledge on it at business dinners, he’s impressed quite a few potential clients and business partners by giving them a long tirade about wine, without a single thing of it being necessarily true. 

George (+Fred and Lee, lol) experimented with eyeliner for a short while, they stopped because it was quote-unquote: “too much work” which made a lot of their female friends roll their eyes because, oh you’ve no idea, do you, Weasley?

I mean someone had to test the wonderwitch products, right?

George is a very light sleeper, and since Fred is anything but that- what with his sleepwalking and tossing and turning- George rarely got a lot of sleep, meaning there’s a large percentage of his detentions in school that were solely from “inattentiveness” aka “falling asleep in class.” 

George always thought that if he really really couldn’t work with the joke shop, he’d be a healer. He doesn’t know if he’d be any good at it but it’s a nice thought and he does have a caring gene from his mother. 

George’s first sign of magic was when he was a year old. He summoned a blanket into his crib, so it wasn’t much. His first noticeable thing he did was three years later by blasting Fred off him when they were play-wrestling, he basically shocked him with a defensive charge which sent Fred flying onto his back. Fred’s reaction was sitting up, looking shocked, rubbing his head and then whispering: “cool!” They spent days trying to recreate it but to no avail. The story of the event has been greatly exaggerated by both Fred and George to their nieces and nephews. 

They still joke that George has a secret superpower that can only be unlocked by play-wrestling him. 

As George gets older, he requires glasses like his father, though mostly for reading and sometimes for working on products. 

George’s favourite genre of music is soft rock, he’ll belt out an 80’s power ballad any day (and preferably while cooking) 

Oh, cooking. George gets super into cooking and baking after the twins move out, he tries his best to recreate his mother’s recipes and is still to this day attempting to perfect her cornish pasty (a personal favourite of his) and every Christmas, George and Molly practically never leave the kitchen in the burrow, as George desperately tries to learn everything he can. 

George is the godparent of all Fred’s kids as well as Albus, Dominique and Lucy. 

George buys the best gifts, I’ve already touched on this, but he has a weird ability to get you not only what you wish for but what you really need. 

Also, his gift wrapping skills are out of this world (his kids + nieces and nephews will never not receive those gifts that are wrapped in like 100 layers of paper)

George loves pet names, he loves the overly sweet, cliché ones and the simple, common ones. His favourite to call his s/o is darling, sweetheart and, weirdly, pumpernickel (he just thinks it’s a funny word).

George’s favourite dates he’d take his s/o on is: museum dates, cooking for them at home, picnics and going to the beach. 

George actually kind of liked the Hogwarts uniform. It was easy to keep track of and it meant he could spend minimum time in hand-me-downs that rarely fit perfectly. 

George would love to have (and probably has already got) a dog, he doesn’t care what size or breed (but personally I can see him getting on well with a cavalier or a Stabyhoun) 

George (also) has a small size kink: He loves wrapping his arms around his s/o from behind, enveloping them in his jacket when it’s cold and resting his head on top of theirs. 

George is either full of energy and wants to do five things at once or wants nothing more than to lay flat on the nearest soft surface he can find and watch movies until he falls asleep. 

He often takes his s/o on random adventures, he does it as a way to escape boredom or if he’s lost his inspiration. He finds it helps to come up with new ideas if you throw yourself off your rhythm (if you get it you get it) by doing something random you don’t normally do. 

George has big John Mulaney energy and if his s/o ever showed him his shows, he’d probably never stop quoting them. 

George’s favourite body parts on his s/o: Neck, hands, lips (and butt) (this is where it gets steamy just fyi) 

George is very respectful in bed, he’s the type to ask “are you ok?” and “is this ok?” a lot, at least the first couple of times he’s together with his s/o until he gets to know them better. 

George def. has a praise kink, he loves giving praise but he also loves feeling like he’s appreciated and loved and doing a good job, you know? 

We all know George has a thing for lace, we’re way beyond that at this point. Consider silk, though. He’d totally be into silk over the lace, it’s a light fabric, pretty and really easy to tear away…. *wink* 

George is surprisingly good at opening bras. 

Generally, he’s really good with his fingers…

He has a pretty dirty mind when it comes to sex but is also super embarrassed about it so he’d only admit his kinkier thoughts when he really trusts and knows his s/o. 

I think he’d be pretty two-sided in bed, he loves the intimate, sweet sex but also the rougher, tearing-your-lingerie-off-you sex. 

He prefers receiving more than giving oral but it is by such a small margin, he’ll happily give. 

He can only last one round (maybe two if you give him a long break) but he’ll absolutely make it count.

George’s fav position is missionary. As much as he likes trying other positions, he prefers the intimacy of missionary. Plus he thinks being able to see your face as you unravel under him is really hot. 

[wiltingofthewhitelily]

{Hetalia Platonic Ships Week 2021} Day 7: Free Day - Iceland & Latvia

A/N: Submission #7 for @hetaliaplatonicshipsweek!

Aaaaand the last day! I was originally planning to do Canada and Cuba (a platonic pairing I just adore) for this day until I realized I didn't actually have any solid story ideas for them :')

Sooo I chose Iceland and Latvia instead, because I imagine the two to be pretty good friends. This is just a high school au (bc as many of y'all know I'm a sucker for them) that I came up with one day while sitting in class lol. You can choose to see this as taking place in the same universe as the fic I wrote for family week (the Anko Family submission for Day 5, Embarrassment) if you wish, bc everything lines up pretty much to a T. Also, my demiboy Iceland hc is back, so he/they pronouns again.

Also, here's the reference for human names again (though most of these characters are only briefly mentioned):

Emil - Iceland

Raivis - Latvia

Leon - Hong Kong

Michelle - Seychelles

Mei - Taiwan

Lili - Liechtenstein

Ok, I hope you guys enjoy!

»»————-　➴　————-««

Being a librarian's aide at a high school wasn't nearly as bad as it appeared on the surface—well, at least for Emil it wasn't. It was always nice and quiet (for obvious reasons, since it was a library), and it allowed him to get out of a couple of boring classes which he didn't even need to take since he'd already received all the credits for them. Plus, the librarian herself was always very nice and even gave him free coffee and donuts from the teacher's lounge on most days. So, needless to say, Emil actually liked being her aide very much.

It wasn't even that much work, honestly. Not that much work at all. Usually just stacking returned books back on the bookshelf and taking out papers from the printer and giving them to students and teachers. Emil didn't have to interact with too many other kids as there were only a couple of other aides—a senior girl who was the librarian's secretary, and a boy named Raivis who Emil was pretty sure was a sophomore. Raivis basically did the same tasks as Emil, placing books on the bookshelf and whatnot.

Raivis was a curly-haired brunet who was very short for his age, barely even coming up to Emil's shoulder; he had a round boyish face that added to his middle-schooler look. Though he seemed to be a pretty quiet kid, just like Emil, since the two worked together they evidently had to communicate with each other sometimes—and honestly, Emil really enjoyed talking with him. He seemed to have a lot of the same interests as Emil—video games, indie music, hell, he even liked science fiction novels too—and a similar personality to them. Emil wouldn't exactly consider themselves close enough to Raivis to consider him a friend, probably just a very good acquaintance; however, they definitely saw the potential for friendship. It was there.

Sometimes Emil wondered if Raivis even had any other friends, as they'd never seen the boy really talk to anybody else. They wondered where he sat at lunch and tried to recall countless times if they'd ever seen him at lunch with anybody else (at their school, all juniors and sophomores had the same lunch period, so Emil knew that they had lunch with Raivis).

Anyway, on one Thursday morning Emil and Raivis were in the library, organizing books in the—what do you know—science fiction section. They had set their uneaten donuts and coffee on a nearby table and were just talking and laughing among each other, as well as sharing some of the good books they'd found that they happened to have read in the past. Emil made a mental note of all the reading suggestions Raivis had given him. I'm gonna have to check out those books when Mrs. Newman lets me pick some out again, Emil thought to himself (Mrs. Newman referring to the librarian). Another perk to being a librarian's aide was that they got to pick out more books than the other students, about three to five every other week.

Everything was going okay until these two boys who Emil had never seen in the library before casually walked up to the table that had the two's donuts and coffee and sat in the chairs.

However, Emil just kept their attention on Raivis, who was laughing as he told them about this one dystopian book, holding it up so Emil could see. "Yeah! And the best part is when—" Raivis stopped talking abruptly when he noticed the two boys there; his eyes grew wide and he got a...scared look on his face? Hurriedly, he shoved the book back in its spot on the shelf, averting his eyes from the boys and holding Emil's arm loosely, trying to guide him away from the section they were at. "Um...how about let's go sort out the encyclopedias," Raivis suggested quickly.

Emil cocked his eyebrows, now very confused. "But what about our food?"

However, Raivis didn't respond and instead continued to try to push Emil away from the boys.

"Hey, short stack!"

Raivis visibly cringed at the voice of one of the boys. This prompted him, as well as Emil to lift their heads up. One of the kids was cackling annoyingly, while the other one had carelessly taken a bite out of one of Raivis' donuts.

Seeing this latter action immediately caused Emil to furrow their eyebrows. "Hey, what the heck?" they said sternly. "That's Raivis' food."

The kid who'd eaten Raivis' donut snickered. "Yeah, no shit, Dad."

"Emil, just leave them alone..." Raivis said quietly, still holding onto their arm.

Emil ignored him and, though his heart was pounding nearly out of his chest with nerves, he continued to try to set the two boys straight. "I'm going to tell Mrs. Newman if you two don't stop," he threatened.

The other boy, who'd started to drink Raivis' coffee, set his cup down and made mocking jazz hands. "Ooo—Mrs. Newman. I'm so scared," he said sarcastically.

Emil shot the two one last glare and went up to the front of the library to do what he'd just said he would do—tell Mrs. Newman. As he began to walk, he heard the sounds of pounding footsteps, splashing, and then a high-pitched wail that could only belong to one person. Emil whipped his head around and gasped. The kid with the coffee had dumped the entire beverage onto Raivis' head; it was dripping from his hair, and onto the floor.

Now simmering with anger, Emil stomped up to the two kids—he was about to yell something until he heard one of the boys snort loudly and then run up to place the now-empty cup of coffee into Emil's hand. The ash-blond didn't have time to be too confused; he was much more concerned for Raivis at that moment. He prepared to yell at the two boys to get the hell out (he honestly didn't care at that point that they were in a library) before he heard a voice behind him: "Hey! What are you two doing?"

The teens all looked toward the voice and saw Mrs. Newman standing there, hands on her hips, her expression very angry looking—though not at Emil and Raivis, rather at the boy that'd spilled coffee on Raivis' head, as well as his friend.

The two boys, though they'd just mocked Mrs. Newman a mere few minutes prior, stood there, scared, until they glanced at each other briefly and then dashed out of the large library doors. Emil smirked internally as they saw this. Now they're afraid, huh? they thought to themselves.

Mrs. Newman stared at the boys like a hawk as they ran out into the halls, but once they were out of eyesight she turned to Raivis, her face instantly growing from full of anger to full of concern. She walked up slowly to the boy, gently placing her hand on a part of his arm that'd been untouched by the coffee. "Oh, sweetheart," she said, "I'm so sorry that happened to you."

Raivis shrugged his shoulders slowly, his face looking so solemn, so pitiful. "It's fine..."

The tall blonde woman turned to Emil then. "Honey, will you take him to the office to get a fresh change of clothes?" she asked. "He will probably need to use one of the showers in the gym too...can you walk with him, please?"

Emil nodded instantly. "Yeah. Sure thing."

Mrs. Newman smiled back. "Thank you."

Soon, the two teens were walking off to do just that. Raivis was very quiet all the way to the office—which Emil could understand one hundred percent. Poor kid must've felt so embarrassed. He decided he wouldn't make the situation any worse for him and kept his mouth shut, too. They swiftly went to the office to get some spare clothes and then got the clear to go down to the gym bathroom so Raivis could wash up.

The two got to the gym and were standing in front of the door to the bathroom; Raivis glanced up at Emil, his face a little pink. "Um," he began, holding his hand out a little, "could you give me the clothes?"

"Oh, yeah," Emil replied, handing Raivis the sweatpants and t-shirt.

Raivis nodded his thanks and headed on in. After he shut the door, Emil just decided to sit against the wall and wait for him while he showered and changed.

Nearly thirty minutes later, Raivis finally came back out. Emil looked up, put his phone back in his pocket, and then stood up. "How was it?" he asked the sophomore.

Raivis sighed deeply; his eyes were very close to watering, even though he looked and smelled as fresh as a daisy. "Um...okay I guess," he answered, voice quavering a little. "There was a lot of coffee on me."

Emil nodded, but tsk-tsked. He began to walk out of the gym, and Raivis followed close behind. "Who even were those kids?" Emil asked.

Raivis shrugged, looking down at his toes. "Eh, just some kids from my grade. They're jerks."

Emil bit his lip. "Seems like it. I can't believe they put that coffee cup in my hands like they were trying to frame me or something," he said. He laughed, a bit bitterly.

Despite himself, Raivis managed to chuckle a little. "Yeah. Don't they know Mrs. Newman has cameras in there? She could've checked them if she really wanted to."

Emil snorted. "I know, right?"

It was silent for a moment afterward, with Raivis gulping loudly every now and then. Emil turned their head, noticing this. He cocked an eyebrow, concerned. "Are you okay?"

Raivis (who Emil could tell now was definitely on the verge of crying) sniffled and rubbed at his face. "Yeah," he answered, voice hushed. "It's just...thank you, Emil. No one has ever stood up for me like that."

The boy's voice was so sincere that Emil had to grin. "It's no problem—really."

"You're a great friend," Raivis added.

Emil's heart was warmed at that—they didn't know if it was just the way he said it, or the knowledge that he actually thought of them as a friend. He answered warmly nonetheless. "Thank you. You are too."

Raivis glanced at him and gave the most genuine smile Emil thought he'd ever seen on the younger teen.

"Hey, where do you normally sit at lunch?" Emil asked Raivis, just out of curiosity.

Raivis' smile fell a bit. "Oh...well, I normally just sit outside," he said quietly.

"Alone?" The word seemed to echo in the empty hallway, though it might've just been Emil's imagination.

Raivis nodded a bit solemnly. Emil grew the same solemn expression for a moment before asking, "Hey, would you like to sit with me and my friends at lunch?"

Raivis looked up then, eyebrows shooting up. "Really?"

Emil nodded, cracking a small smile. "Yeah. I sit with my best friend, Leon, and then my other friends, Michelle, Mei, and Lili. Leon's really cool; Michelle and Mei might seem a bit...much at first, but they're really nice and cool too."

Raivis' expression slowly began to brighten the more he heard Emil talk, until he paused. "...Are you sure that's okay? I wouldn't wanna ruin your guys' lunch..."

"Trust me, you won't," Emil assured instantly.

The sophomore paused for a minute, as if thinking. "...Okay. I'll sit with you guys."

Emil grinned. "Good. I'm sure they'd love to meet you."

The two continued to walk back to the office to get passes for their next class in comfortable silence, the content feeling one feels after finding a new friend overwhelming both of them.

[jadedlavendergemini]

As Promised

Summary: If you were to ask Emma Moore how out of control her life became just before the apocalypse, she would have told you how she had never seen it coming. How she fell for someone that she should have avoided at all cost and how she had no control of any of it in anyway possible. Of course she had no clue of her own ‘destiny’. Michael Langdon x OC

A/N: Sorry for the wait! I just started back at my second job and things have been crazy. I want to thank everyone for the positive feedback. I’m so happy so many of you enjoy my writing. If anyone would liked to be tagged in the next update, just let me know! Also I am STILL posting from my phone’

Tag list: @7-wonders @fallenangeldreamer @plymptxn @fckinsupreme

Part one here!!

——————————————————————————

Emma wasn’t always stuck in her dorm. Occasionally she did attend lessons in the classroom with the other students. She did get along fairly well with most of the students. Sometimes she was annoyed at how she was treated by other students but there were a few she liked to call friends.

Most of the time the other students were afraid of her father. John Henry tried not to show favoritism, but not that he needed to. Emma was treated as fair as his other students. He was thankful Behold felt the same way. He felt proud of her progress since her powers first showed. The two agreed that she would better off residing in Hawthorne than Robichauxs. To them, Cordelia was just dangerous. She attracted danger like a magnet.

Three times Cordelia tried to reach out to him in regards to his daughter. She insisted that Emma would excel and grow with her fellow witches. And every time he would tell her no. He wanted her close by at all times. The fear of losing her to some freak accident caused by Cordelia or any of her girls haunted his thoughts often.

She never put up an argument about Robichauxs, she was comfortable where she was. She was a good kid, Behold always told him. She had her fair share of anxiety so naturally giving her her own space was good.

Ariel and Baldwin detested the idea of her attending the school. They argued with John Henry for at least three hours before giving in and laying down the rules. At this time Behold had his back and agreed to help teach the young witch. And she proved herself almost immediately to the instructors. In no time she was already considered at level three.

She was currently sitting in the class room with a few students listening to one of Behold’s lectures. She had paid attention for the first half but towards the end, she felt a strange, low vibration in her skull. Her head aches as she presses her finger tips to her temples.

“You good?” She looked to her left. Edward, another one of the nicer students asks.

Emma nodded. “Yeah, just a headache.”

He just nods and returns his attention back to their instructor, but she cannot focus. All she can do is close her eyes and wait for it to stop.

By the time the lesson was over, Emma noticed that the constant buzzing in the back of her head had stopped. She followed the rest of the class out of the room and into the halls toward the private wing of the school.

She was caught off guard when a strong force knocked the two books out of her arms. When she stopped and looked up, she was met with the faces of three male students who stood to the side of the hallway.

“Sorry ‘bout that, Emma.” Thomas Albershaugh said. Thomas Albershaugh was one of the few students that gave the young witch a hard time. His friends Erik and Justin did just about the same.

Erik used his foot to push off the wall where he had been leaning and approached her. “Let me get that for you.”

Emma glared as he reaches down, picked up both books and place them back in her waiting hands. Before she could turn to walk away and not bother to make a smart comment, once again the books went flying out of her hands by an unseen force. Most likely made by Justin or Thomas.

“Oops.” Justin laughed as Erik stepped around Emma. By this point many of the other students had stopped to watch.

Emma rolled her eyes. “Very mature, assholes.”

“Why don’t you bend over and pick them up for us?” Thomas laughed. “Give us a show.”

The witch now self consciously gripped the ends of her black dress Skirt to make sure it was pulled down. Hesitate steps were taken to where the books had landed right in front of the morons themselves. She slowly bent her knees and with her right arm, she extends it to grab them, while the other hand is holding onto the skirt to prevent any kind of ‘show’ she was teased about.

Just as her hand gripped one of the books, another unseen force knocked her down completely. Luckily for Emma, her skirt kept down, but The boys laughed and she swore she heard other student whistle.

And in that moment, she felt pure rage. Nothing like what she had felt before. Before, she would just walk back to dorm and cry with frustration, but today that was not the case. She remained sitting on the floor and glared at the three boys. Her heart raced and hands formed into fists. Before she could intentionally hex them, Thomas went flying back into the wall, his head made contact with the wall with a loud thud. Erik’s head flew back as if he had been punched directly in the nose and Jared was thrown face down onto the cement floor.

Just like that, all the laughter and whistling stopped. The students became silent, some whispering as they stared at the three boys and the witch. It took Emma a good minute to realize what had just happened. Her eyes stayed glued to Thomas in shock as he lay there, not moving. She was in such shock, she didn’t even hear Behold’s voice

Behold had just entered the hall from the class room to see what noises he was hearing from the students. He slowly pushed his way through the students to see Three students, the troublemakers he knew they were, laying on the ground. He followed the other student’s stares to Emma who was currently sitting opposite of the boys, avoiding eye contact with the instructor.

“Alright, what’s going on?” John Henry made his way out next. He immediately stopped when he saw everyone, including Emma.

As he made his way quickly to his daughter, one of the students answered. “Emma kicked their asses!” More students chimed in. “She didn’t even touch them!”

“Out of the hallway now! Get back to your dorms, shows over.” Behold directed the students out and began checking on the three boys who were luckily still alive. His eyes moved to Emma who finally looked away from them but remained seated. “What in the hell happened?”

Erik sat up, blood coating his hands as he held his nose. “She’s a fucking Psycho that’s what happened!”

“You started it, asshole!” She shot back, her fathers hand grasped her shoulder.

John Henry rolled his eyes. “Alright, well we’re ending it right now.” He helped pull her to her feet. “You, young lady are to go and clean yourself up and go back to your room. We’ll discuss this later.”

Emma followed her fathers words and left as Behold and her father tried to get the other three students taken care of. She replayed the event in her head over and over trying to understand how she did it. She didn’t even recall uttering a word to pull that off.

As she finally made it to her dorm, she tried to find a simple explanation to what it could have been. And what was she going to tell her father? She had no idea.

Closing the door behind her, she made her way to her bathroom. She needed to shower, might help her relax after her embarrassing throw down. She let the water warm up in the shower as she stripped off her uniform. Only looking up at the mirror once does she realize what she looks like right now.

Dried blood that stuck to her right nostril, perhaps from all that energy she released on those boys? Great, now she does look like a psycho that Erik had claimed her to be.

‘What the actual fuck?’ She thought to herself, taking a cloth nearby, wetting it with the tap and using it to clean the blood.

——————————————————————————

Not too long after her shower, Emma was changed into her night clothes. She had already dried her dirty blonde waves and was currently resting on her bed with her spell book in hand. She was trying to distract herself from the fact her father was going to demand what or how she pulled off what had happened earlier.

The sound of her door opening held her attention, closing her book and placing it gently on the night stand. Her father made his way into the room and took a seat opposite from her at the desk. Facing him, she noticed how stressed he seemed to look. She must have pissed off Ariel.

Looking at his daughter, John was the first to speak.“I just finished speaking with Ariel and Baldwin. Ariel is beyond furious to know that a witch, whom he allows to study here, attacked three of his level 2 warlocks.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “It’s not like they’re dead-“

“That’s not the point, Emma. Two boys have broken noses and Thomas has a concussion and a possible skull fracture. I don’t know which spell you used, but you have caused them some serious harm. Ariel and Behold are going to have to deal with the parents.” He sounded almost frightened himself. “I need to know, from you, what happened?

The girl nodded, looking down to her feet dangling off the bed. “I was leaving class and they were picking on me. Well, it was more like sexual harassment and usually I can ignore them but they knocked the books out of my hands and then me.” Her voice started to crack. “I was just so angry, I guess. I was trying to think of something to do and then it just happened. I don’t know what I did.”

John nodded. “Well, like I said Ariel wasn’t very happy but I was able to talk him down. He wanted to have you expelled but I opted something else. Probation.” Emma looked confused. “Dorm lessons only. No classes, no library. You’ll either eat your meals in my office or in here.”

“But, for how long?” She asked.

He stood from the chair, arms crossed over his chest. “Until Ariel says it’s over. Emma, I am sticking up for you as best as I can. But you have got to meet me half way here, okay? This attacking other students stuff? Never again.”

“It won’t.” She promised.

John nodded. “Alright we’ll, get some rest. Behold will be in first thing for your lessons tomorrow.”

And with that he was gone. Emma Laos back onto the bed and sighed. It was going to be a long probation.

——————————————————————————

For the rest of the week Emma was adjusting to her new schedule. Wake up and change, classes held in her dorm with either Behold or her father, eat lunch in her dorm, study in her dorm, and eat dinner... in her dorm. She was beginning to feel lonely. She wanted just to visit the library, but received the same answer every time. She was sick of the same books she was given by her father.

It was around 10 O’clock on a Friday when Emma had given up on following those rules. All instructors had turned in for the night and students as well so there was no way she’d be caught. She wrapped herself in a thick cardigan and made her way quietly out of her dorm. She was sure to keep an eye out as she tip toed her way through the secluded hallways of Hawthorne.

Once she made it to the poorly lit room, she made herself at home. Grabbing the first book she found on hexes. She wanted to know exactly what had happened to those boys and what she did exactly to cause it. She sat curled up on the plush cushions of the couch and read through multiple chapters. She was so focused, she let her guard down and didn’t even notice the other presence enter the room.

“Do you always hang out in the library this late?” She jumped and turned around in shock, but relaxed once she saw that it was Michael.

She carefully raised a finger to her lips with a smile. “Not really, but I didn’t really have a choice.”

Michael made his way into the library, he still wore his uniform but without the jacket, tie abandoned and sleeves rolled up. He took a seat next to her on the couch. “Haven’t seen you in a while. The word in class is that you got expelled.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Almost. I’m on ‘probation’. Which means that I’m basically stuck in my room.”

“So you snuck out,” he smiled, adding on. “Look at you.”

She looked away, trying to hide her blush. But Michael has already seen it. “So, how bad is the gossip?”

Michael shrugged, leaning back more into the cushions. “That you kicked that kid’s ass. Sorry I missed it, heard it was ‘messy’.”

“I didn’t do ‘anything’.” She confessed. “At least I don’t think I did. I honestly can’t figure it out.”

“Well did they upset you, right? Maybe it was just your emotions lashing out? That’s what I did when I-“ he stopped.

“When you what?” She asked, closing her book softly.

“When Ariel found me, I was in jail. I was protecting someone I care about and well, I accidentally killed him. They arrested me and the cop wanted me to confess so he started to beat me and again, I lashed out. I didn’t even know I could do that. The point is I think our emotions play a big role in what we can do. That and that Thomas kid seemed like an ass.”

Emma nodded. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

It grew quiet between the two. While Emma thought more about what he had told her, Michael took this time to observe her. She looked different in her comfortable pajamas than in her Hawthorne uniform, not that he mind. The fire from the fireplace illuminated the skin of her bare legs and her cardigan slightly open, showing a her thin camisole top. Her long hair curled and shaped her face and laid past her shoulders.

He flicked his eyes back to her face only to find hers on him. She slowly wrapped the cardigan around her a little tighter and sighed. It only just occurred to her that not only had she broke one of the rules for her probation, she broke her father’s rule about Michael. Not wanting to get caught with both, she began to sit up and pick up her book.

“It’s getting late and I don’t want to get caught. I better head back,” she said standing up, book held tightly to her chest.

Michael stood immediately. “Can I walk you to your dorm?”

While Emma should have felt uncomfortable, she didn’t. Instead she felt almost flattered. She nodded and led the way. Michael smiled and followed, hands clasped behind his back.

“So, how do you like the school?” She asked, wanting to end the silence.

“It’s good, everyone is very nice. Although, I swear your father hates me.”

She smiled and shook her head. “He’s just hard on everyone and very protective of the school.”

“And you,” he added.

She nodded. “Of course.”

“What about your mother?”

Emma didn’t speak and her small smile was gone. “Uh, she died when I was two. So I don’t really remember her. So it’s just my dad and me.”

Michael could feel her emotions remain the same. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” He added quickly. “My mom tried to kill me when I was younger.”

The witch’s brow furrowed and stopped to look at him. “Oh god, I’m sorry.”

Michael only offered a small smile and shook his head. “It’s alright, she just didn’t understand who I was. But I have a foster mom, of sorts. She’s great and takes good care of me that I don’t even think about my mom.”

“Oh, well that’s good, I suppose.” She replied, beginning to walk again. Emma’s thoughts raced as she thought about what he had said. A mother attempting to kill her own child, the poor boy probably went through a lot.

They finally came to the private wing of Hawthorne and stopped. “There’s a spell on this wing so other students can’t enter so,” Emma balances on her toes. “Thanks for walking with me.”

“I really enjoy your company,” he said. “Do you think you can sneak out again sometime soon?”

“Michael I-“ she sighs. “I probably shouldn’t. I don’t want to get in trouble. Ariel already hates me and I don’t want to get expelled.” She watched his lips fall from that beautiful smile of his. And suddenly she didn’t care. It seems that she had finally made a friend, a friend she wanted to get to know more. “You know what, sure. Can we meet in the library again tomorrow night?”

“Sounds good. 10 o’clock?”

She smiles. “10 o’clock. Good Night, Michael.”

He watches as she makes her way to her door at the end of the hall and disappear. He quietly observed the corridor itself. A spell to keep students out, really? He cautiously stepped over the threshold of the hallway, waiting for something to shove him away, but nothing happens. Placing his hands behind his back once more, he quietly makes his way to her door. He can practically feel her emotions blossom into happiness. And it’s something he wants to her to feel all the time, he wants to be the one to bring out that smile of hers.

He felt pride for what she did to Thomas and his friends. Well, what he did. The second he heard those words from the boy’s mouth he wanted to snap their necks right there. But he knew he needed to keep low. So he did what anyone would do for their soulmate, he gave her energy. The warlocks believed Emma’s actions to be from her emotions, not Michael’s magic. She didn’t know it, but there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for her.

As for her father, he may need to be a little careful around. He knew John Henry was already suspicious. Nothing he or Miss Meade couldn’t handle.

[babieyangyang10]

violent ends (chapter 4)

(chapter 4)

series masterlist

genre: hunger games!au

pairing: huang renjun x oc, na jaemin x oc

warnings: mentions of prostitution, language, violent deaths, fighting, angst, fluff, + possible nsfw.

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"So, each of the districts get their own floors. Since you're from two, you get the second floor." Doyoung explains as we step out of the elevator.

As we walk into the apartment, I stare in awe at the glamorous quarters.  There are many giant glass columns and a random display of silver trees and rocks.

"Here is the living room and your rooms are over here. How about you freshen up for dinner?" suggests Doyoung. 

In my room, I am met by a bed with a silky, soft comforter. I make my way into the spacious bathroom and hop into the shower. Inside, there was a panel with hundreds of buttons that regulated water temperature, pressure, and even provided massaging sponges.

After finishing, a heater dried my hair and body completely. I pressed another button and a box began sending electrical currents through my scalp, instantly untangling my hair.

Returning the bedroom in comfortable clothes, I see a strange-looking remote on the bed-side table. Intrigued, I begin pressing random buttons. As a result, the window showcasing the lights and building of the Capitol changes into different sceneries.

First, there was a city street filled with cheerful families walking together. After pressing a different button, a dry and deserted desert appeared on the screen.

Switching it once again, a scene showing several mountains peaking through behind a forest of trees. I felt a pulling-feeling in my chest. My throat also feeling slightly choked-up.

During the holidays, every year Taeyong would take me into the mountains of our district. He would pretend to be my knight in shining armor, while I was the princess in distress.  He'd never tell anyone, but sometimes it was even the other way around.

It's also where he taught me how to hunt and find my own food. How to determine between what is the good food and what is the not so very good food.

It was the only time I remember us ever truly being kids. Not soldiers, just a thirteen and seven year old exploring the big, exciting world together.

Then everything went to shit after Taeyong went to the games.  That year, the Gamemakers had chosen a forest for the terrain. However, it was filled with dangerous wild dogs, wolves, and spiders. The spiders had enhanced speed and were extremely venomous. However, the wild dogs were capable of changing their form and copying the voices of the tributes.

Because of this, the entire Career pack was slaughtered alive. Taeyong was the only one who managed to escape. Wounded and without supplies, a twelve year old boy from District 11 named Dong Sicheng had found and formed a alliance with him. Sicheng had shared all of his supplies and even nursed him back to health.

On the last day, they were approached by the last remaining tribute. Taeyong, spotted him and fired an arrow straight into his heart. As he turned around to check on Sicheng, he was met with the boy clutching a harpoon, longed deep in his chest.

Dong Sicheng slowly died in Taeyong's arms.

After the cannon went off, the Captitol announced over the speakers that Lee Taeyong of District 2 was the winner of the 64th Hunger Games.

No longer did he take me to the mountains. Honestly, we never did anything together. Since then, the closest I ever got to be to him was the one time when the rest of my family stood by him during his stop in District 2 during his press tour.

I've always wondered how he felt. Wondered if  he blames himself for what happened. However, I never wanted to intrude. It's not like I ever got the opportunity to ask him, anyways.

However, since I'm going in the games soon. I hope to eventually work up the courage to sit down and have a real talk with him. The real Taeyong, not the victor or mentor he acts like in front of everyone else.

I opened the door to see Doyoung, Renjun, and Taeyong sitting at the dining room table.

Once I sat down in the acid-green chair, Taeyong began talking, "The plan for tomorrow is the same for the both of you. You go to group training. Spend time practicing something your weakest at. Swing a mace. Throw a spear. Tie a decent knot. It doesn't really matter, just save showing off for the private session with the Gamemakers. Are we clear?"

Renjun and I both nod our heads at him.

"Well, have the two of you gotten to know any of the other tributes yet?" pries an interested Doyoung.

"I haven't. Although, Athena seems to be checking out the competition, already."  Renjun answers, nonchalantly.

"Wonderful!" Doyoung innocently chimed, "It's never too early to start considering possible alliances. Are you going to ask anyone to join the two of you?"

"Oh, we're not-" Renjun and I said at the same time. We're laughing as if he's said the funniest joke in the world.

"We've always maintained our own completely different strategies. Renjun prefers to be the predator. There's no doubt in my mind that if he does want to work with others, it'll end up being an alliance with the other Careers. " Renjun just silently nods in agreement.

"And what about you?" asked Doyoung.

"Let's just say I prefer not to walk around with a huge target on my head. I want to team up with someone well-liked, so we can get resources through sponsors." I explained.

"Like Na Jaemin?" sneers Renjun.

"You know people have been calling him the Prince of Panem. He's made quite the impression, already." Doyoung chimes, "And he's not the only one. People have been raving about you, Athena. They've even started calling you, the Golden Girl."

"That's good." Taeyong quietly adds to the conversion, "If you keep this up you'll get lots of sponsors."

Doyoung suddenly blurts, "In fact, most people think Jaemin and you would make a good couple."

At this remark, Taeyong drops his knife loudly on the table, while Renjun chokes on his drink. My mouth begins opening and closing like a fish, struggling to come up with a reply.

"We're done for tonight. You two should go to bed now." Taeyong orders, not hiding his agitation.

Quickly, we all return to our rooms. I crash on my bed and stare up at ceiling.

Jaemin and I as a couple?

Where did they even dream up that possibility from? I mean, we only had one barely two-minute conversation. People really do amaze me sometimes.

My thoughts are broken by a barely-there knock at my door. I groan and force myself off the bed.

I roll my eyes, before opening the door and saying, "Renjun, would you kindly please fuck off?"

However, the person standing there was definitely not Renjun. I tilt my chin up to see no other than Lee Taeyong, towering over me.

"Oh, sorry." I frown, embarrassed.

"Can I come in?" He politely asks me.

I step to the side and allow him inside. Once he's fully in, I closed the door behind him.

"Finally decided to talk to me, huh?"

He just stays silent, just letting me say whatever I please.

"You know, I thought you'd at least be happy for me. I mean, you of all people should know that this is the best thing that could ever happen to me." The emotions I've been holding in for the past 10 years are finally coming to the surface.

Taeyong looks at me with pity, "Athena, there are some things you don't know. Things that the school or our parents never taught us."

"What are you even talking about?" I pressure.

"After the games, you couldn't see me for a reason." He took a heavy breath, "Sometimes, if a victor is considered desirable, the president gives them as a reward or allows people to buy them for money. It’s not just me either, the same thing happened to Finnick Odair a year later."

"What do you mean, 'buy'?" I swallow.

"For sex."

It’s quiet.

"I was given no choice. He said that he would kill both of our parents and even you if I didn't obey." His eyes begin tearing up, "Athena, you don't know how much I wanted to come see you and teach you things."

"Taeyong." I whimper.

I felt sick to my stomach. How could they do that to him? He was just a thirteen year old kid. Even worse, how could I let myself hate and be jealous of him, when all along he was the reason I was still even living?

"I know I'm a horrible brother, but please listen to me when I say the Capitol uses everyone, including you. You have been taught that this, the games, are normal and something to be proud of. You haven't even seen how horrible it is for the lower districts. They can barely make it through one day without starving. They have basically nothing, while the Capitol is feeding off them."

Anger rises up in me. I look around at all the expensive things in the room. Think about the large amount of fancy food I've consumed while in the Capitol. I'm furious, because I've been lied to and tricked. Furious for Taeyong and all the others the Capitol has taken advantage of.

I jump into my brothers arms and completely break down. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean what I said Taeyong. It was stupid. I'm stupid."

"It's okay. You didn’t know." He shushes, while holding me.

“Listen to me. If you-“ he corrects himself, “When you win this thing, I’m not going to let him do anything to you, okay?”

“Taeyong, can I tell you something? I’ve just never got the chance to.” I ask.

He nods.

“What happened to Sicheng wasn’t your fault. You understand that, right?”

He painfully looks down at the floor, before slowly nodding.

“I’m serious, Taeyong. It’s not your fault.”

By the time he looks up, I am able to clearly see him. Underneath the years of pain, hidden away was a vulnerable boy. The tears come falling down his cheeks.

We spend the rest of the night talking about our past, telling stories. Both laughing and crying together.

My brother and I.

[yulmoldauer]

some things are better left unsaid (Tyson Jost/Male OC): Chapter 2

part 1

Chapter 2

Summary: Mason has to deal with the events of the previous night.

Warnings: uh as you can guess if you read the first part, there’s gonna be homophobia/transphobia talked about. Otherwise, there shouldn’t be anything that needs a warning? If I’m wrong just let me know :)

Words: 2,319

Notes: I don’t think I have much! This is like a lot of flashbacks and I’m sorry but that's character building baybee!!! I promise after this it’ll be more present-based stuff. I just love the character and wish I could spew out my brain and make it understandable lol

Fuck.

That was the only thought Mason had upon waking up. The implications of the previous night hit him like a ton of bricks. His hangover was just an added bonus.

The party had been fun, obviously, but Tyson was still here. Tyson had seen his top surgery scars.

“When did you have surgery?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. A medical degree and some knowledge on what other surgery would leave these scars would be helpful. Mason really did not want to lie, but he wasn’t sure what else he was supposed to do.

Being drunk wasn’t helping, either. In his mind, the world was ending and his career was over after the last fuck up that got him traded…

Rationally, he just burst into tears. Not a dramatic scene or anything, he just felt his eyes watering very quickly and suddenly the tears were rolling down his face.

“Oh, shit. Okay,” Tyson set the water down and hurried to his friend. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know this was- here, will you feel better if you get a shirt on?”

Mason only nodded, allowing Tyson to help him get the shirt on and pull him for a hug.

This just made Tyson think that the scars were from some shitty, traumatic event or something with extremely bad memories. Note to self: don’t fucking ask about them again was written in large letters in his brain.

He did factor in the extremely likely possibility that Mason was drunk and--as anyone with a brain knows--Mason was a hundred times more dramatic when drunk. Still, though, if he was crying, it couldn’t be a good thing.

At least Tyson had been nice enough to leave him some meds and water after forcing him to go to bed.

“You hungry?” Tyson asked softly from the doorway. “I heard you rumbling around in here, I wasn’t watching you sleep,” he clarified quickly.

“Didn’t think you were,” Mason chuckled. “No, I’m not hungry. Thank you, though. You can help yourself to whatever. You know that.”

“Yeah, I made some toast earlier. Fun birthday last night?” Tyson smiled and sat on the edge of the bed as Mason laid back against the headboard and dug the heels of his hands into his eyes.

“You could say that. Thanks, though. Seriously, I had a ton of fun.”

“Yeah, of course. I didn’t stop you from posting anything on social media, though. I dunno why you like taking videos so much.”

“Then I can save them and rewatch them later,” Mason scoffed like Tyson was an idiot. After a few more seconds Tyson moved to get up mere milliseconds before Mason started talking.

“About last night…”

He hesitated, waiting for some kind of confirmation that Tyson was willing to talk about this. There was no sense putting it off, right?

Tyson just raised his eyebrows. “The scars?”

That earned a nod and Tyson sat back down.

“They’re… shit. Okay, sorry. I never meant to lie or anything--fuck that, I never lied. I just... “

“Dude, if it’s something you don’t want to talk about, that’s fine.”

Mason groaned quietly and shook his head. “No, it’s just… I don’t know how to explain it.”

“If you wanna talk, just say it. I’m not gonna freak out or anything. If you don’t wanna, that’s okay too,” Tyson reassured gently.

Truthfully, the curiosity was killing him. It was rare that an injury happened and they didn’t share it with each other. Mason took a few more breaths before nodding. Psyching himself up.

“They’re from my top surgery.”

Silence.

More silence.

Mason officially wanted to die. He was going to have to request another team change, go through the legal battle of making sure he didn’t get outed--

“Like…?” Tyson asked quietly with raised eyebrows.

“Like I had tits and got them removed the summer before I went to college.”

That may have been a relatively vulgar way to put it, but it was true. It was the simplest and least-awkward way he could think to put it.

“Oh,” Tyson nodded a few times. “Thats--I never knew--I mean, I couldn’t, like, tell or anything…”

“Yeah, that was the point,” he sighed and took a sip of the water on the nightstand. “Noone was supposed to know or be able to tell or whatever.”

“So literally no one knows?”

“Not literally, no. My family knows, obviously.”

“But the league?”

At the defeated sigh that escaped his friend, Tyson quickly backtracked. “You don’t have to get into it, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be prying--”

“No, it’s fine. It’s just… a long story that I don’t know if you actually want to hear or if you’re just being nice.”

“Of course I wanna hear, stupid. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t.”

Mason narrowed his eyes at the name, but it was quickly followed with a small smile.

It did take a bit to explain everything, though. How he was drafted into his previous team, everything was fine, and then someone had taken an ungodly amount of time to hit the showers at the same time Mason had been in there.

“Oh, fuck! You scared me,” Mason huffed when he heard the water turn on just across from him.

“What’cha being jumpy for?” the taller guy laughed.

“I’m not jumpy,” Mason grumbled, turning the water off quickly. He wasn’t even sure all the soap was out of his hair, but that didn’t matter. He just needed to get the hell out of there.

“Are you okay, man? You’re being weird-” the other man asked genuinely and glanced over his shoulder. This had been at the same exact time Mason had been trying to just leave as quickly as possible.

There was a few moments of silence that felt like years as the younger grabbed for a towel to cover himself up.

“Are you--?”

“Please, just forget--” Mason tried, but the guy was already turning his water off and grabbing his own towel.

“No, I’m not fucking--are you kidding me, Wright?” he nearly shouted as he stormed out of the room with Mason in tow. “Are you actually kidding me? How the hell have you gotten away with this--”

“I haven’t ‘gotten away with’ anything, you dickhead. It’s none of your business in the first place.”

“It doesn’t matter, you don’t belong here. You know they’ve got the women’s league now, right? It’s not like-”

Mason just shook his head, staring at the floor of the changing room while they were both yanking clothes on as quickly as possible. He didn’t want to hear what was coming next, all the awful shit he’d say.

It wasn’t even what he was saying that was the issue. Mason had heard just about everything at this point and had always had a pretty thick skin. It was the fact that someone he trusted--someone he’d considered family at this point--was saying it.

Didn’t he realize that it wouldn’t be like this if Mason could help it?

“Hey, what the hell is going on?” the head coach cried over them, walking into the room. He hadn’t been concerned about the loudness until it was unbearably obvious that the shouting was getting increasingly angrier and angrier. He wasn’t about to bring up the fact that Mason looked genuinely scared, as if worried about his safety.

The other guy was pissed, going off about how he’d been lied to, he’d been sharing a locker room, dressing room, and showers with a lot of unkind names, and that he wouldn’t keep playing for the team while acting like this never happened.

They ended up in the coach’s office, Mason attempting to towel dry his hair while the other blew off steam. He just didn’t want anyone to see him upset.

Once they were separated, lawyers were brought in with papers and agreements, and the head coach asked Mason if he’d like to request a trade or anything. It wasn’t like he had the option to say no, but he wasn’t exactly upset to go somewhere where he wasn’t worried about going to the bathroom without getting yelled at or beat up by a guy way bigger than himself.

He remembered to thank management before he left for working overtime, it seemed like, to figure out who would take him on such short notice and mid-season.

He was a good defenseman, sure, it just wasn’t easy on such short notice. But what the star player wants, the star player gets.

Colorado was the quickest to take the young defenseman about a year ago, and the rest was history.

“Holy shit,” Tyson murmured after a few quiet moments.

“I thought I was done. I honestly didn’t think anyone was going to pick me up, I thought my career was over. Can you fucking imagine that? Retiring at, like, 22?”

“Yeah, no, that’s… fuck, dude. I’m so sorry that happened.”

“It’s fine, I don’t even really care. I’m happier here, anyway. Especially since it’s not like you’re saying I’m a creep or a fucking… whatever.”

“Does anyone else know? In the league, I mean.”

Mason nodded. “Took a different approach when I got here. Bednar, bare minimum management, and PR knows. PR because if someone ends up outing me, I thought it would be a good idea to have some sort of plan on what to do. And medical staff always has, obviously. I think they know more about me than I do.”

Tyson nodded along, looking at his friend again after a few moments.

“You want this to stay between us, then? Or…?”

The fact that Tyson was even asking made Mason want to cry again. After being fucked over god-knows how many times when it came to being trans, Tyson was the one confirming he’d keep the secret. He wouldn’t give anyone any kind of hint unless Mason wanted him to.

“Yeah.  Between us, please? I dunno, I might come out to the guys eventually, just so they know. I just… I don’t know what I’d do if they react badly--”

“They wouldn’t,” Tyson said quickly. “I promise you they wouldn’t. And even if someone did have an issue with it, they’d just fucking stay quiet. They’d be in the tiny minority.”

“I just don’t know if I can take being traded and going through everything again, Tys.”

At the wavering in Mason’s voice, Tyson reached out and squeezed his friend’s hand.

“You’re not going to get traded over stupid shit like that. Not here, at least.”

“You don’t know--”

“I mean, yeah, I don’t know a lot. But you already said that the most important people who need to know do, they’re okay with it, and it sounds like they’ve got your back. I’ve got your back, too. And if you end up telling the rest of the guys, they’ll have your back too. Even if you end up not telling them, I’m still here for you, man.”

Mason felt about eight tons of weight fall off his shoulders at that. How did he end up with such an amazing friend?

“I just can’t really come out publicly for… I dunno. A while. Ever, maybe? I don’t know.”

“That’s gotta suck. I mean, everyone’s got their shit they want to keep private but… I dunno what I’d do if I literally couldn’t talk about something.”

Especially with how amazing it would be if Mason was able to be that representation for kids like he was who want to play hockey, Tyson thought. The amount of LGBT kids and teenagers who get driven out of hockey is immense, that’s never been a secret. To see an LGBT guy do so well would be amazing, it just sucked it wasn’t possible for Mason to talk about.

And he did want to talk about it. It would suck to come out and deal with that, but if it helped other people he would do it without hesitation. That’s the kind of guy Mason had always been.

“You’re sure you’re not mad that I, like, kinda lied to you about this up until now?” Mason asked, breaking Tyson out of his train of thought.

“Lie?” Tyson furrowed his eyebrows. “Not telling someone something isn’t lying, first off. Second, its none of my fucking business unless you wanted me to know. Even then, this would be a stupid thing to get in the way of being friends with you. I know you call me an idiot all the time, but I like to think I’m not that stupid.”

“You’re definitely not,” Mason chuckled, flipping his blanket off of him and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He shot Tyson a genuine, appreciative smile before downing the painkillers with some water. “Let me get dressed and I can drive you home, if you want. I feel bad making you wait so long,” he murmured. It was well into the afternoon, and even though Tyson constantly reassured that it was fine, he didn’t care, Mason still felt guilty.

It was very clear Mason was hungover when he and Tyson left the building and got into his car, but that was fine. It had just confused Tyson when Mason unbuckled in front of his apartment building.

That is, until he was pulled into a tight hug.

“Thank you so much,” Mason whispered. “Seriously. I… I dunno how to actually tell you how much I appreciate you being so chill.”

Tyson hugged him for a few moments before shaking his head. “It’s really not much to just… I dunno what to call it. Not be an asshole?”

Mason laughed as he let go, allowing Tyson to open the door. “You can text me if you have any questions about… anything. I don’t tell a lot of people, but the people who do know I’m pretty open with.”

“Yeah, of course. See you later, man. Go get rehydrated, okay? You look like shit.”

“Fuck you!”

[deputyrhiannonhale]

OTP Questions Meme

I was tagged by the ever lovely @returnofthepd3​ thank you!!

tagging: @ja-crispea​ @dieguzguz​ @shelliechen​ @f0xyboxes​ @deputy-janai​ @deputyjessicaquinn​ @xbaebsae​ @veinereastath​ and anyone else who wants to, sorry for double tags, and sorry if I forgot anyone, my brain isn’t fully functioning yet haha

Sharky Boshaw and Rhi Hale

DISAGREEMENTS

Who is more likely to raise their voice? Rhi definitely, she’s hot headed and doesn’t really mean to raise her voice, but if it’s over something stupid, Sharky will match her tone quickly.

Who threatens to leave but never actually does? Sharky

Who actually keeps their word and leaves? Rhi (but it’s only for her to take the time to cool off)

Who trashes the house? If she’s drunk, Rhi will throw papers around, nothing major, like breaking anything, but she always cleans it up when she’s calmed down. 

Do either of them get physical? Nothing like full on fist fighting, but Rhi does have a tendency to poke Sharky in the chest, or possibly shove at him, but it’s never hard enough for Sharky to even wince or stumble back.

How often do they argue/disagree? Hardly ever, they get along very well actually once Sharky realizes Rhi was never a threat to him. But, until they finally became a couple, he tried several times to warn her about John, and he would get irritated when she wouldn’t listen.

Who is the first to apologize? It depends on who started it, and who realizes they were in the wrong. Usually Rhi will swallow her pride and come to Sharky first because she is usually the one who blows up the worst.

SEX

Who is on top? Sharky mainly

Who is on bottom? Rhi, she likes to be put in her place sexually.

Any kinks? Sharky is a worshiper and loves to make sure Rhi has all the pleasure she can handle.

Who has the strangest desires? Neither have any strange desires

Who’s dominant in bed? Sharky

Is head ever in the equation? Almost always

If so, who is better at performing it? Sharky

Ever had sex in public? Outside, yes.

Who moans the most? It’s pretty equal, but Rhi is louder

Who leaves the most marks? Rhi, she loves to bite Sharky

Who is the more experienced of the two? Based on all his stories, Sharky

Do they ‘fuck’ or ‘make love’? Early in their relationship, it was a few spiteful fucks (Rhi did it just to piss John off) but once they realize they’re both in love with each other, it turns to making love.

How long do they usually last? If neither gets exhausted, all night.

Rough or soft? Usually soft, but they do have the rough nights

Is protection used? No, because deep down they’re both dumbasses

Does it ever get boring? Never!!

Where is the strangest place they’d have sex? Against Sharky’s SUV

FAMILY

Do they plan on having children/or have children? They’ve never talked about it, but Rhi doesn’t want kids.

If so, how many children do they want/have? N/A

AFFECTION

Who likes to cuddle? It’s equal

Who gets naughty in the most inappropriate of places? Sharky, but Rhi can have her moments if she’s feeling her oats

Who struggles to keep their hands to themself? Sharky

How long can they cuddle until one becomes uncomfortable? When falling asleep, Rhi will cuddle until she feels sleep calming her and then she will roll away from Sharky.

What is their favourite non-sexual activity? Sitting around a campfire, drinkng while Rhi plays the guitar and sings for him.

Where is their favourite place to cuddle? In bed, or the couch, but really if they’re just relaxing wherever, rather it’s around Hurk or the Spread Eagle, they will cuddle in some way.

How often do they get time to themselves? A lot, Sharky tags a long with her quite a bit, but at night, Rhi shuts off her radio so they have no interruptions.

SLEEPING

Who snores? Both, depending on how tired they are.

If both do, who snores the loudest? SHARKY

Do they share a bed or sleep separately? At first apart, but eventually jjust started sharing a bed

If they sleep together, do they cozy up together or lay far apart? They will until Rhi feels herself falling asleep, and she will roll away, but Sharky “chases” her because he doesn’t like not being able to touch her, and eventually Rhi is pushed all the way to the edge of the bed.

What do they wear to bed? Rhi usually just a tank top and shorts, Sharky just wears his boxers (even before they start officially dating) but after sex, they fall asleep naked.

Are either of them insomniacs? Rhi has a hard time falling asleep some nights, if her past is haunting her.

Can sleeping pills be found by the bedside? No

Do they wrap their limbs around each other or just lay side by side? Sharky usually ends up like a koala bear attached to Rhi. 

Who wakes up with bed hair? Rhi, her hair is a tangled mess

Who wakes up first? Usually Rhi, she has a hard to waking Sharky up, its worse if they were drinking the night before.

Who prepares breakfast in bed for the other? Neither. Rhi has tried, but once Sharky realizes she not in bed with him, he gets up and looks for her.

What is their favourite sleeping position? Spooning, Rhi is almost always the little spoon.

Do they set an alarm each night? Rhi has one automatically programmed on her phone, and it always goes off, even if she doesn’t have to be up.

Who has nightmares? Rhi does, she wakes up in a cold sweat some nights, remembering the smell of the house burning.

Can a television be found in their bedroom? Yes, and they usually watch something before falling asleep.

Who has ridiculous dreams? Rhi, her mind hardly ever shuts off.

Who sprawls out and takes up most of the bed? Sharky, but Rhi hogs the blankets

Who makes the bed? Rhi does, if she remembers to.

What time is bed time? Between 11 and midnight.

Any routines/rituals before bed? The typical ones, Rhi will wash her face with a cleanser and they both brush their teeth.

Who’s the grumpiest when they wake up? Rhi. Hands down. She’s gotta wake up and have some coffee before she can even be considered anywhere near pleasant.

WORK 

Who is the busiest? Rhi most days as a deputy, she’s constantly having to take care of something.

Who rakes in the highest income? Rhi does

Are any of them unemployed? Considering his past, Sharky has a hard time finding employment.

Who takes the most sick days? Rhi only will if she feels she may be dying.

What are their jobs? Rhi is a deputy for Hope County, Sharky calls himself a “Professional Pyro”

Who sucks up to their boss? Most would say Rhi gets treated better because Earl is her uncle but she has to work just as hard as the other deputies.

Who is more likely to turn up late to work? Neither.

Who stresses the most? Rhi, she is always worried about something, no matter how trivial

Do they enjoy or despise their careers/occupations? Rhi loves her job, and Sharky loves that Rhi is a deputy (he thinks he will get out of trouble more often this way)

Are they financially stable? They’re comfortable.

HOME

Who does the washing? Rhi, but Sharky will help her (or at least try, bless)

Who takes out the trash? Sharky will take out the trash.

Who does the ironing? Ironing? People still do ironing? Rhi will just toss her wrinkly clothes in the dryer for a few.

Who does the cooking? Rhi takes control over that.

Who is more likely to burn the house down just trying? Sharky...because...well...he’s Sharky.

Who is messier? It’s pretty even, but Rhi hates folding or putting clothes away, so there’s a designated spot for the clean clothes.

Who leaves the toilet roll empty? Sharky did once. Once.

Who leaves their dirty clothes on the floor? Rhi

Who forgets to flush the toilet? Neither, after the toilet paper roll incident, Sharky makes sure he doesn’t do anything wrong in the bathroom.

Who is the prankster around the house? Sharky, he’s worse if Hurk is over

Who loses the car keys when it comes time to go somewhere? Rhi, especially if Sharky is asking a lot of questions, she starts to forget to grab things, and then she freaks because she can’t remember where the keys are.

Who answers the telephone? Rhi

Who mows the lawn? Sharky does that for Rhi, says she shouldn’t have to worry about something like that

Who does the vacuuming? Rhi does if it gets to the point that it’s needed

Who does the groceries? They go together

Who takes the longest to shower? Rhi, it’s where she does a lot of her thinking, and just lets the hot water wash over her body.

Who spends the most time in the bathroom? That all depends n what is happening in the bathroom haha. Showering, Rhi, using the toilet, Sharky.

MISCELLANEOUS

Is money a problem? Not really, they get by easily enough.

How many cars do they own? One a piece, and she also has a quad that all her own 

What’s their song? Set Me On Fire by Flyleaf

Do they live in the city or in the country? Country

Do they own their home or do they rent? Rhi’s cabin is part of her contract from her being transferred from Billings, so the payment comes out of her pay automatically.

Do they enjoy their surroundings? Rhi hated the big city, so she absolutely loves the country.

What do they do when they’re away from each other? Rhi focuses on her job, but is constantly worried she’s gonna get a call and it’ll be something Sharky did. Sharky waits patiently for Rhi’s return and is worried she’ll get hurt.

Where did they first meet? Her first visit to Hope County at 16. Sharky didn’t trust her, he felt she ratted him and Hurk out for setting fire to some hay bales, but it was the owner of the property. Rhi convinced Earl to let Sharky and Hurk go.

Who spends the most money when out shopping? Neither really, Rhi having always been on the poorer side of laugh, does math in her head as she’s shopping and won’t spend more than needed.

Who’s more likely to flash their assets? Neither

Any mental issues? Rhi has plenty. She has a hard time trusting people, she has a lot of anger issues from the abuse from her step-father, she’s anxious a lot, mainly where her mind won’t shut off. She also won’t let many people in, if you’re part of her circle who knows a lot about her, consider yourself lucky.

Who finds it amusing when the other trips over? They will both laugh, but if it’s Rhi that fell, she’s a little more embarrassed and gets a little huffy.

Who’s terrified of bugs? Rhi...not really terrified, but she doesn’t want them on her.

Who kills the spiders around the house? Sharky kills them for Rhi

Do they have any fears for their future? They don’t, because neither believe in the collapse.

Their favourite place? A section of the Henbane River where they took a dip on a hot day. It was when Sharky realized he was in love with Rhi. He will sometimes take her there for a spontaneous picnic

Who’s more likely to surprise the other with a fancy dinner? Neither, they’re not really a fancy dinner couple.

Who pays the bills? Rhi does just because she is the more responsible one

Who’s the tallest? Sharky. He’s 6′ and Rhi is a teeny 5′1″

Who’s more likely to just randomly hop into the shower with the other? Rhi

Who wanders around in their underwear? Sharky because he has no shame haha 

Who sings the loudest when singing along to the radio? Rhi but they sing together, especially if its disco music.

What do they tease each other about? Rhi teases Sharky about his accent a lot and calls him Charlemagne, and he teases her about her height.

Who is more likely to cringe at the other’s fashion sense at times? Neither, because they don’t care what the other wears

Who crushed first? Rhi thought he was attractive when she was 16, but that was a more it’ll piss off her mother and step father. But Sharky definitely crushed first and Rhi was more slow to crush on him.

Any alcohol or substance related problems? They both drink, but it’s not to the point of being a problem.

Who is more likely to stumble home, drunk, at 3am? haha both, they’ll stumble home together.

Who swears the most? Both do, but Rhi has a really foul mlouth on the regular.

[writersperpetualblock]

Breakfasts in a broken home.

A/N; Cuz I’ve got a major crush on older men. This was originally written as a Jeffrey Dean Morgan × Reader thing but halfway through I changed my mind to my very neglected baby Chris Evans of whom I never write anything. So here is.

Summary; How much can a broken marriage hold when there is nothing left to hold on to? You can try to ignore it, you can try to run from it. But the truth will always catch up to you.

Warnings: Sensitive topics such as depression, malnutrition and divorce.

••••••○

Reader PoV.

Waking up was hard, the air felt chilly even when the sun was already high up in the sky. A soft sigh escaped me as I turn around, half expecting my husband to be lay sleeping by my side. Half expecting him to be on the other side of the country, working.

Not surprisingly enough I find the second one to be the truth. Neither confusion nor disappointment drowned me anymore, now it felt more like a huge wave of empty crashed inside me. Just last night he had gone to sleep on this bed, craddling me in his arms, even after our heated fight. I closed my eyes, and without warning a tear escapes me. I knew what I was getting into when I married him, I knew he'd always be trapped in tons of work and have important things to take care of all the time. It was just sad that I wasn't one of those things anymore.

I could not gather the strength to get out of bed. I simply couldn’t. Not today. Not without my Chris.

Someone slowly knocked on the door. I was quick to wipe the tears from my eyes, hoping anyone would come through the door but my son.

“Come in” A skinny girl pushes the door open and enters the room head down. I was never a fan of having maids, but Chris insisted he wanted to give me the best care whenever he was away. And after a while of what would have been very lonely weeks at a time, I came to appreciate their company.

“Joan” I acknowledge the girl just a few years younger than me and with a baby boy near my owns age. She carried a tray in her hands and much to my dismay I sat up and instructed her to leave it on the night stand. She did so and gave me a small but bright smile.

“Mrs Evans, the kids asked earlier if they could go to the town’s annual fair that's taking place in a few hours. Of course Matteo wished to come ask you himself but I told him you were still asleep“ her brown eyes scan me, as if trying to decide what my reaction is going to be.

“I don’t see why not.” I try to give her a smile “Thanks Joan, you may take them yourself. I'll give you some money for the boys. Buy icecream, cotton candy or whatever they want and bring them back for dinner, all right?”

She nodded and walked out of the room with a smile. Then her head popped at the door again. “I will get them ready now and I'll tell Mateo to come say hi before he leaves.” She trailed off, seemingly unsure of her next words “He has not seen you out of bed in days Y/n.”

My eyebrows rise at that, and she closes the door behind her. Can't be mad when she's telling the truth, but the reprimand isn't exactly appreciated.

Taking one look to my breakfast I sigh, I didn’t feel much like eating today. But with Joan's words pounding in my head, I knew I needed some strength. If not for me for my son. But before anything else I reached for my phone to send out a single text.

: Where did you go?

As I awaited a response I slowly got out of bed and heade to the bathroom between dizzy steps, trying to recall the last time I had more than a granola bar and chocolate to eat. Not being surprised by the fact that I didn’t even remember. While brushing my teeth I managed to avoid a glance at the person on the mirror. Not wishing to see her swollen cheeks, or the dark circles under her eyes or her mistreated skin. After a layer of particularly pink lotion to my face and a cold water rinse I felt a tad more awake, trying not to sprint inside the bedroom at the first ring of my phone. No, instead I took my time drying my face and putting some handcream on. Finally heading out of the bathroom and straight torwards the phone.

Chris♡: They called me in to retake some scenes. Will be home by night.

Of course. The phone found itself being dropped back in the bed rather harshly. Like we didn’t have a marriage emergency going on.

I almost chuckle, marriage emergency… what kind of selfish bitch was living within me. It was his work, mostly what gave me and my son the spectacular roof over our heads and brought food on the table since I pretty much quit my job. I shouldn’t expect it to be less important. It’s not like his family was at stake here.

Suddenly shutting my senses to my thoughts I attempt to shake them off my head. But I can’t. All I do is contradict myself, all there is is a never ending inner fight with myself and it was making me lost. I had a son to look after. I needed to be more supportive of my husband. Of myself when it came to that. But I felt mentally and physically exhausted. And it needed to stop. Start with your breath...

When I consider that I have collected myself enough to pick at my breakfast and turn around there is an expectant little figure by the door. And I feel the wind knocked out of my stomach.

I gave him a small smile. “Hey baby” he quickly runs up to me and my body crouches on instinct, lifting him from the floor and squeezing him into my arms. I breath in the scent of his blonde waves. For a moment, all of my inner fight had dissipated. All of the struggle forgotten for a second and there is a smile on my lips. A true smile.

“Good afternoon momma” he wraps his short arms around my neck. My nose itches and for a second I think I may cry.

“oh I love you baby” I reply, sitting him on the bed. The pain on my lower back not going unnoticed as I do so, but I have mastered the art of acting and sit next to my son.

“Adrian is still getting ready momma, can we watch tv?” he looks up at me, baby blue eyes sparkling, just like his father’s do. "Mhmm" is all I get out. Could my own kid look less like me? It's as if Chris made him solo and I simply carried and gave birth to his offspring that had nothing to do with me.... maybe the nose.

We sat back on the bed. Matteo watching a cartoon, and me trying to eat my food like a little girl being watched eat, almost obligated. With a sigh I take a spoonful of oatmeal to my mouth. It wasn’t bad really, warm and creamy. I eat half of the plate and share a cookie with my son. We both lean back on the bed, Matteo with his small body against my side. I took a second to enjoy it but it didn't last. Joan knocked on the half open door, her son by the hand. "We are ready to go!"

Matteo smiled widely and jumped off the bed, sprinting towards them but stopping in his tracks and heading back to me. I giggled as he left a loud kiss on my cheek and then ran again to his friend. I instruct Joan where to find some money and she smiles, thankful. When their steos are out of earshot I turn the tv off and fill the bathtub with hot water. Deciding to make myself useful or something on this day.

It had been sometime since I'd last taken a nice bath. It was really cold outside so normally a quick shower would suffice, and I'm sure it was more than a day ago since the last one. Yes, I should be ashamed, but I didn't care too much. It's not like I was doing anything too exciting inside these many, many walls.

••••○

Answering the 14th call of the hour a hand runs through my hair as I sit down on the small bed of the trailer.

"Hey Chris, what's up?" There's a tone of worry that I recognize.

My head starts spinning with possible answers, but I shake my thoughts away. "I'm fine, it's just Y/n."

"Oh, is she doing okay?"

"Not really." there's a pause as he gives me time to get my thoughts together "She isn't getting out of bed. She barely eats, she doesn't spend time with our son... I feel like it's my fault, because I'm always away and I've neglected her so."

"Hey I don't think it's that, she knows you need to be away Chris, I'm sure she understands that even if it's hard. And she can take care of herself."

"Yes I know she understands, but, just last night we had a fight. It was the first time I'd been home for weeks and she fights with me."

"You guys have a son that's 3, just couse she understands I don't think it's any easier on her, so you gotta give her some credit."

"I'm worried that she doesn't pay attention to him, what if he thinks it's because of him? I don't know how she might treat him when I'm not there."

"Chris! you know better than anyone else how much she loves Matteo. I couldn't possibly think of her as much as putting her hands on him, much less being mean."

"I know... I just worry, and all kinds of things just come up in my mind."

"Well you need to home more man, if you don't even know how things go in your house maybe it's time you quit."

"What? Scott I signed a contract, I can't just" my back hits the bed with a loud creak and I shut my eyes.

"Break it, I'm not saying it's forever. But you both have a lot of money. It could probably sustain you guys for a lot more years. Your wife needs you brother, and so does your son."

"I can't just..."

"Chris this is your freaking family!"

"I know dammit I KNOW!" Inevitably hot tears fill my eyes and I have to wipe them with the back of my hand.

"What are you so afraid of?" Scott asks and it makes tears to well up again.

A shocked sob came out with the next words "That she's gonna want to leave."

"Chris, Y/n loves you more than a human being can love. You can go and fix your marriage now, or you can keep working until the amazing woman that sits at your home sinks into a bottomless depression that drowns her and your son with her."

My brother's words hit me. I knew it was getting bad, but I was too scared to deal. It was easier being away and pretending I had a happy marriage at home waiting for me every time. But reality was creeping in more and more, I noticed that yesterday.

"What did you guys fight about yesterday?"

"Uh.., my drinking."

"Chris... you're not abusing it are you?"

"No I'm not, I just, had a few glasses because I was finally home. After weeks, and she got mad, said Matteo shouldn't have to see me like that, and I got mad because I really wasn't drunk," My head hurts at the memory of it "it got heated... fast, and I threw a glass against the floor and she got scared and I just... I feel like she sees me like stranger Scott."

"I would see you as a stranger if you were never home and on top of that started acting up when you were. I think you guys should take sometime off, talk things and maybe go to couple's therapy or some shit, I don't know. But you two have a kid, spend some time with him, don't fuck him up just because the two of you have problems. The jobs not worth it, the money's not worth it, at the end of the day, nothing is worth more than your family."

"I fucking hate when you get all deep with me" I chuckle, sitting up and resting my fforehead in one hand.

"That's only because I'm right." my brother laughs too.

"How about you? Are you guys doing alright?"

"Don't worry bout us, we're still on the honeymoon phase"

We both laugh and say our goodbyes, having my brother pep talk me. I knew I had to get my family back, even if I hadn't really lost them, yet. But I needed the incentive to do so.

Reader

The baths I prepare are pretty damn good, dare I say so myself. Laying back on the water, taking a few deep breathes. It does wonders. And suddenly an idea pops in my head.

When I was somewhere around 18 I struggled with depression for years. And one of the things that helped me through that was to write down how I felt, how I wished to feel and how I could improve my situation. It was how I took writing as one of my hobbies.

So I started typing away on my phone.

I know I am not as pretty as I used to be.

I never was too perfect, or perfect at all.

And I'm conscious that my body might not look desirable anymore.

Maybe, I never deserved your love.

Or maybe it was you who didn't deserve mine.

But we made it through the hate,

we had something so beautiful.

We made life.

And I wish things could go back to being so beautiful.

But I would still love you if you decided that I'm not enough for you anymore.

I will accept anything.

All I know for sure is just that this can't keep on like this.

We deserve to be happy.

I deserve to be happy.

For the good of the life that we created,

for the good of our son,

we must get better

wether that is apart or together.

"I had forgotten how much I suck at this." I laughed at myself, but that was fine, because it got the message across. I think.

I hope.

Divorce wasn't something new to cross my mind. I just never thought I would want to discuss it, not so seriously. My parents were divorced, and my mom and I did fairly good. My dad did great on the other hand.. It wasn't that I was scared of it really, because I considered myself capable enough.

My only fear was that I would never move on from Chris, I loved him still. I have loved him since our first kiss. But sometimes it felt as if I barely knew the person that I loved anymore. My heart was still clinging to his, but my mind could not be any more distant right now.

If I really wanted to save our marriage I had to act now. But I couldn't do it alone, and that was exactly how I felt that I was.

The water went cold, and I stood up grabbing the nearest towel. Stepping out of the bath I bent down to unclog it, and when I stood back up my ears rang.

I held onto the wall for a second, and it only got worse. The room obscuring and spinning at the same time. I am not sure if I slipped or if I fainted, but I could surely say there was a bit of blood running down my forehead.

And when I finally came back to it, I was already on an ambulence.

"Ma'am. Mr. Evans is on his way, you're okay."

My eyes went to the back of my head, it felt as if I'd been on a damn carousel for hours. What the hell was happening to me?

There was a distant voice asking me things, and all I could reply was dizzy and nauseous several times.

I fucked up, who was going to take care of Matteo. I couldn't take care of him in a hospital. He needed me by his side.

"You should have taken better care of yourself."

[xserpentlife]

Forever

Summary: What happens when your child runs away, who will be there for you through it all?

A/N I hope you guys enjoy this, I wrote this for @wayward-river follower special. Go, follow her if you haven’t. If you don’t know her she is the one that Beta’s all of my stories and is a good friend and an amazing writer <3. Also, Y/C/N stands for Your child’s name. I hope you all love this story I love it so much.

Warnings: Lost child

Word Count: 3440

You sat there with your child waiting for your boyfriend to come home. Your boyfriend? Well, kind of he was your world regardless of a title. Sweet Pea had been there through everything. He and your baby were the lights of your life.

He was working a late shift and you cooked him dinner and were now doing your daughter's hair before her bedtime. You knew it would be a hassle, just as it always was without him home. She loved to see him before she fell asleep, she knew him as a good friend but she also knew him as “her pea”, since she could talk that was the nickname she dawned him never, being able to get sweets or sweet pea out of her mouth. You remembered everything with him like it all happened yesterday.

*Flashback*

You had known Sweet Pea for years, best friends since you were both kids. You had gotten with a northsider for a few months, and things took a turn for the worse when you got pregnant. The guy you were with ran out instantly, no support, money, not even the smallest bit of love which is all you wanted. For a while you were on your own, you went away to your mother's house after the first few months of your pregnancy. Your mother lived a few towns over, so you stayed there for a while. You lived by yourself before that in the trailer you and your father shared before he died. Sweet Pea never understood why you left, he constantly called and texted but you couldn’t bring yourself to look like a fool in front of him. He had told you countless times that your baby's father wasn’t good for you but you would never listen, and then you realized you should have. You stayed hidden. Hidden for months only texting back here and there never saying more than a few words, never posting on social media knowing people would be able to see the changes in you. For months you were alone, and then months turned into a year, something you never really wanted to happen. You wanted to go back to Riverdale, and you wanted to go back to your friends and the people who you consider family, your mother still seeming like a stranger to you. So much so that you introduced her as a friend and you introduced Sweet Pea, Toni, and Fangs as your family, through all the pictures you kept of them. You knew that if you had gone back to Riverdale it would all be different, the looks, the gossip all of it. But where you were now was unhappy, you had no friends, no family and you didn’t want your daughter growing but you stayed too afraid and alone to do anything else.

It was odd that day. The knock on the door somewhat alarming as your mother was at work and no one ever came to visit considering you barely knew anyone. You opened it slowly, bat in hand with your daughter standing behind you.

“I see you haven’t changed Y/N” The voice you knew instantly the door not even fully opened. As you opened it completely you instantly jumped into the arms of the person that stood behind it. Sweet Pea. You hadn’t seen him in a year. A year too long away from the one person that felt like home to you. But you were confused as to why he was there. You slowly dropped out of his arms.

“Sweets… What are you doing here?”

“I needed to find you… see you, make sure you were alright” Before you could say anything your daughter jumped out from behind you jumping onto Sweet Pea as he lifted her up into his arms instantly. “And who is this?”

“My Pea!!” Your daughter giggled knowing him instantly, showing a picture every day to someone it was like she had seen him in person time and time again.

“Sweets meet my daughter Y/D/N”

“You're what?”

“My daughter…” You grabbed her from Sweet Pea’s arms placing her down slowly and telling her to play in her room as you pulled Sweet Pea inside with you.

“How does your daughter know my name Y/N, who am I to her, how does she know if she never met me?”

“Pictures, so many fucking pictures Pea, every day I showed her. I never wanted her to not know you. She has been calling you her pea ever since she could talk… I’m sorry if that bothered you ”

“Why didn’t you tell me”

“I was scared”

“Why?” 

“I was stupid… so stupid. You told me time and time again to not trust him Pea… and I did. I trusted his sorry ass and he left me… I was so stupid”

“It isn’t your fault that he left Y/N, you shouldn’t be embarrassed about that”

“But I should be, I am the one that got pregnant. It’s all my fault”

“He is to blame for that too, but why didn’t you stay?”

“He left us, left her instantly. Right when I told him I may have been pregnant. I tried to find him… to at least have him somewhat in her life but… he ran I have no idea where he is… he left her. I was embarrassed. I had a child growing inside me. A child who didn’t have a father, who wouldn’t have one. I had no one, she would have no one. Then I found my mom’s address and I came here. I didn’t want you guys to know. I was scared.”

“You had me. You do have a family. I am your family. I would have been there Y/N, we all would have been there”

“I know that, but at the moment it was too hard”

“Why didn’t you come back”

“I don’t know Pea, I thought about it so many times, but then thinking of you all finding out… I don’t know. I’m sorry”

“Not at all, I’m glad she knows me…”

“Pea why are you here?”

“To bring you home”

“I don’t have a home, I sold the trailer you probably know that”

“I always wished you would come back, but when I realized you were too scared and an old friend who had lived in Riverdale texted me saying he saw you around this town I had to come to find you. Come home with me Y/N. You and Y/D/N. Come home with me hell live with me.”

“I can’t… we can’t”  

“Why not Y/N? I want you to come home with me. I fucking miss you so goddamn much. Leaving may have been easier for you, but it wasn’t easy for me. It felt like my heart got ripped out. The one person I cared about left, with only a note saying that you would be back eventually. I fucking love you and every damn day it felt like I lost you forever. I always fucking loved you and I fucking wish you would have let me be there for you, so let me do it now”

You looked into each others eyes as Sweet Pea leaned in slow enough that you could pull away if you had chosen to, but you didn’t. He was the true love of your life, the one you wanted when you had gotten with the father of your child. Hell, he was part of the reason you were with him. You were such good friends with Pea you didn’t want to ruin that so you started trying hard to like someone else and that is when you started dating the Northsider. You loved Sweet Pea since you were a kid and nothing ever changed that. So when his lips connected with yours they locked together like they always should have. Like they should have been locked together for the longest time.

“I love you Y/N”

“Pea I love you too, I’ve been in love with you for so long, but we can’t move in with you. I can’t do that to you. I mean fuck what will people think of you. That I am making you take care of me and my child. I mean hell she shouldn’t have to be your problem, I shouldn’t have to be. You need to live your life, I mean hell we are still so young I can’t ask you for any of this”

“I’m in love with you, I fell in love with you not them so they have nothing to fucking say about you or us or anything okay. Whether or not you want to be together I don’t care, but I am not letting you stay here alone any longer. We will take everything slow, but please just fucking come home Y/N… please”

“I’ll come home Pea, but no guarantees on anything else… I can’t do that to you”

“Your not…”

“Sweets… please, just for now, please”

“Okay, as long as you come home”

That night you packed up everything and loaded it into Sweet Pea’s truck, You luckily didn’t have much. You left your mother a note thanking her for giving you and your daughter a roof for a year, but that it was time you went home. You knew it was time to go home, and home was where you were going to stay.

*End Flashback*

You and Pea had been living together for 3 years, your child was now 4 had never made anything official, you never forced your child to call him anything, because hell you truly didn’t know what to call him yourself. He meant the world to her and she meant the world to him. Sweet Pea helped with everything from cooking for her when you couldn’t, taking care of her when you had work, going to the doctor with you when she was sick. Even coming and sitting in the hospital for hours when she had come down with a cold. Screaming at the staff to take her back, and letting you cry into his chest when she had fainted from not having enough fluids. Pea was your everything, just as he was your daughters as well. Your daughter never liked being without her Sweetie Pea

“Babygirl you will see Sweets tomorrow okay?”

“But I wanna see him tonight mommy. I want My Pea!”

“I get that baby but he isn’t home yet he is at work”

“But I wanna play”

“He is going to be home late, you can play tomorrow, now go to your room okay and then I will be in to give you a kiss after I put the dishes in the sink”

You cleaned up the kitchen, dishing a plate for Pea and putting everything into the dishwasher. You walked to your daughter's room to tuck her in. After walking over to her bed you sat down. She had the covers pulled over her head playing jokes as she always did. And you went to pull them away but when you did, she wasn’t there. She wasn’t under the covers like she should have been like she always was when you sent her to bed. So you got up quickly walking to the bathroom, she wasn’t there not even behind the shower curtain. You called her name, no answer. You went to your room, the one that you shared with Sweet Pea when he didn’t insist on sleeping on the couch. She wasn’t there. Not in the closet, and not under the covers. Then you checked the living room, the other closet, every cabinet, and crevice, under everything you could think of, and she wasn’t there either. You called her name no answer coming at all. You couldn’t find her anywhere. You couldn’t hear any sound at all. You went outside running around the trailer not finding her either. You were running looking everywhere checking, again and again, tears streaming down your face. You hadn’t even been paying attention before you saw the lights of Pea’s truck pull into the driveway. He got out quickly seeing you disheveled.

“Y/N what’s wrong”

“It’s Y/C/N, I can’t find her. I put her to bed and she isn’t there Pea! What if someone took her. I looked everywhere. Every cabinet every corner. I can’t fucking find her Pea, I can’t” You sobbed into his chest as he held you tight. “I need to go… I need to fucking find her” You began walking away packing around. He grabbed you again pulling you in, his hands coming to rest on your cheeks.

“Listen. You are going to stay here okay? I am going to go out and look. When I leave I want you to call Toni, and Fangs okay. I am going to call FP and have him call some people and tell them to keep an eye out”

“I can’t stay here, while you go out looking Pea, I need her”

“Baby I know you do, but you need to stay here in case she comes back. I’ll find her and bring her home, I promise”

“Please find her Pea”

“I will baby I promise. I love you okay”

“I love you too” With that he left, running back to his truck and climbing inside quickly before peeling out of your dirt driveway. You went in sitting on the couch shaking after calling Toni and Fangs. You felt worthless. You felt helpless and you felt like you were not doing anything to help, but you trusted Pea. You trusted everything that man did and told you, and you knew he would bring your daughter home. But you felt that emptiness without her and without him next to you in the pit of your stomach, something you knew you never wanted to feel again.  

Sweet Pea drove around, getting out of the truck every few minutes, not seeing any sign of Y/C/N. He wasn’t going to give up though, the last thing that he would do would be to come home without her in his arms. He needed to find her for both you and him. She had become his world, as much as you were. He had grown to love your child so much so he considered himself close family, maybe even like a father figure to her, but he would never claim that himself, everyone knew it though. He continued to look and look. Leaving his truck running as he would get out and shout her name. He was about to drive by pops before a glimmer of brown fuzz through the window caught his eye. He slammed on the breaks looking over and seeing the animal looking out at the truck. He knew then he had found her. He knew it because she never went anywhere without the stuffed toy he had given her for her second birthday, the first birthday they all spent together. It was a small brown bear that when the paw was squeezed his voice would come over saying I love you. He got out of his truck so quick leaving it running as he ran into the small diner.

“Y/C/N!, what are you doing” He grabbed her quickly lifting her into his arms.

“Daddy you found me!” A tear slipped from Sweet Pea’s eye. That was the first time Y/C/N had ever called him daddy.

“Yeah baby girl I did, do you wanna go home now?”

“Yeah hehe, I wanted to play hide and seek and you won!”

“Baby girl next time you wanna play hide and seek, let's play it in the house okay, or tell us and we will go somewhere and play don’t just run out of the house, okay?”

“But mommy said I couldn’t play tonight, but I wanted to”

“Well please never do that again, mommy is very upset, you scared her”

“I did?”

“Yeah baby girl, but it’s okay because we are going to go home and see her now okay?”

“Daddy…”

“Yeah baby girl”

“I’m sowwy I scared you and mommy”

“Hey, don’t cry, It’s okay baby I know you just wanted to play, just tell us next time okay?”

“Okay, I love you daddy, thank you for finding me”

“Always baby girl, I love you too”

He drove your daughter home as quickly as he could. A few tears slipping out here and there. Y/D/N had fallen asleep during the ride. He carried her in quietly you quickly getting off the couch to see her in his arms. He shushed you as he carried her to her bedroom. He came back out as quickly as he went in pulling you into a hug.

“You found her!”

“I promised I would baby”

“Where, where was she?”

“At pops, she wanted to play hide and seek” You looked into Sweet Pea’s eyes finally for the first time since he had gotten home. You saw the tear rolling down.

“Sweets why are you crying”

“She called me daddy…I didn’t know what to say. I should have told her I wasn’t but I just let it go, I’m sorry”

“But you basically are, I mean your not… but you are in reality, Pea. She may not have your genes but you are her real father. You have been there through every small thing, you have always been there for her and for me. So if she is ready for that. If she is ready to call you daddy then so fucking be it. I want her to call you that if she wants it and if you want it to”

“Are you being serious Y/N”

“Why wouldn't I be”

“In that case” he got down on one knee taking your hand in his. “I wasn’t going to do this right now… hell, I didn’t know when I would… but I know now I need to. I fucking love you Y/N you know that. I have always loved you. I loved you since we were kids. I love your daughter. I have wanted to be considered her father for so long, but before I can do that. And before I could do this I wanted to know how she felt about me. Her calling me daddy tonight confirmed to me that she loves me and sees me as more than just your friend. I love her like my own daughter I always have. I want to be her dad. If you'll let me I would love to adopt her with you, but first I want to be your husband. I never want to be without you again, I never want to be without your daughter again. I want you both in my life forever… so Y/N, will you please fucking marry me”

“Yes Sweet Pea, of course, I’ll marry you” You kissed him like never before, not paying attention to anything else, so much so you hadn’t realized your daughter come out.

“Ew, daddy why are you kissing mommy, that's gross” You both pulled away laughing.

“Hi baby”

“Mommy why are you crying…”

“Well baby, daddy just asked me to marry him, which means me and daddy will be together forever”

“Forever ever?”

“Yes baby, and it means that daddy really loves you and mommy” you smiled over to him at this. He really did love both you and your daughter.

“I know mommy… I’m his favorite” She whispered the last part as if he couldn’t hear her.

“Yeah baby you definitely are, now can you get to bed for mommy, and we will play tomorrow?”

“Yes mommy and I am so sowwy about earlier”

“It’s okay baby, I love you” She kissed you before going over to Pea.

“I love you My Pea, thank you for finding me oh and Daddy can you come and tuck me in” 

“I’ll be there in a second baby girl” she kissed his cheek before waddling off into her room.

“I think her calling me daddy will always get me”

“She has you wrapped around her finger”

“She always has, and now I can be forever”

“It was always going to be forever Pea, I loved you too much to ever have left a second time. And she loves you too, has from the instant I showed her your picture”

“We are forever Y/N, I love you so goddamn much and I can’t fucking wait to marry you and call you my wife”

“And I can’t wait to call you my husband”

[bee-kathony]

Formerly Fraser - Ch. 8 “A Vow” 

written by @julesbeauchamp & @curlsgetdemgurls

a/n: hello everyone! there is one more chapter after this and then a wee epilogue. we hope you enjoy this one ;)

Previous Chapters

Jamie woke up on the morning of his wedding day feeling nervous. And not the kind of nerves that someone was supposed to get on their wedding day. He was worried he was making a huge mistake. Sure, he loved Annalise, but more and more lately he was wondering if he only loved her as a friend loves a friend.

He had known love before -- earth shattering, mind blowing, all consuming love. He had known that type of love and he was aware it didn’t happen twice in a lifetime. He was also very aware of the fact he had failed Claire and the sheer idea of ever doing it again ate away at him. He was there, the day of his wedding, thinking about his ex-wife. It wasn’t how it should be.

The rest of the morning went on rather normally. He went for a run, showered, ate his porridge and even had time to consider calling Claire but he put an end to that idea quickly. Instead, he kept wondering what she must be doing. Or thinking. The girls were with Annalise helping her get ready at the church while Jamie and Alex were now dressed and waiting in their own private room.

“Are ye nervous, Da?”

“I wouldna say nervous, nay,” Jamie took a deep breath.

“Then what is it? Ye’re no’ really lookin’ thrilled if I’m honest,” Alex laughed a bit.

“‘Tis just…” He looked at his son, “Dinna fash it’s nothin’,” Jamie waved his hand at his son and leaned forward on the chair.

“Did ye ever think ye’d get married again?”

“Och, nay, I never thought I would. When ye get marrit the first time ye dinna really think ye’ll do it again,” Jamie smiled thoughtfully.

“How do you ken someone is the right person for ye? Like...is it somethin’ ye realise gradually? Or ye guess or --”

“Ye just ken it, as soon as ye’ll see her, Alex,” he smiled, thinking about the first time he saw Claire, and he felt his heart squeeze.

“It worked the second time too?”  Alex watched him attentively.

Jamie shook his head, “Nay, it only works once.”

“Only wi’ mam…” Alex looked at his father and tilted his head. “Da ye dinna have to get married if ye aren’t sure about it, I bet Annalise would understand and it doesn’t mean ye don’t love her --”

Jamie’s eyes widened as he looked at his son. He had been sure he had kept his feelings to himself but it seems maybe he had adopted a bit of Claire’s glass face in their marriage.

“I dinna think Annalise would be too pleased if I did that,” his fingers tapped against his knee. “I do love her and I think it will be a fine marriage.” His voice sounded different and Jamie wondered who he was trying to convince, just now.

“Fine is not verra good, Da…” Alexander remarked softly.

Jamie was silent for a moment as he looked at his son, “Would ye want yer Mam and me to get back together?” He knew this was probably inappropriate to be asking his son, but he had to know.

Alex nodded, “Of course, Da. I always looked up to ye both and yer marriage. Even if I didna appreciate it until it was over. I remember the way ye were wi’ Mam and I never saw half of it wi’ Annalise, I just dinna want ye to regret something is all.”

“Alex…”

“‘Tis no’ even about me wanting my parents to be together, it’s about wanting you both to be happy and as far as I’m concerned, I dinna believe ye can achieve such a thing without one another, just stop bein’ so stubborn,” Alex rolled his eyes, exasperated.

“‘Tis no’ as simple as that,” Jamie ran his hand through his curls. Maybe it wasn’t so difficult, after all?

“Why did ye rush the wedding all of a sudden? Ye seemed perfectly fine avoidin’ it and bein’ engaged forever with Annalise, what happened? ”

“I dinna ken,” Jamie said firmly, his mouth presses together in a tight line. “I just had to do somethin’.”

“What kind of somethin’? Was it Ma? Did somethin’ happen between the two of ye that us kids dinna ken about?”

There was no way in hell Jamie was going to tell any of his children about that night after Alex’s graduation. But it was clear that his son was sensing something was off -- had been off ever since that night.

“Ye dinna need to fash yerself about it son,” Jamie pressed his hand on Alex’s shoulder and rose from the couch to check his hair in the mirror. “I’m gettin’ married today… what’s done is done.”

******

Claire rubbed her eyes as she made her way out of the hospital. She had worked all night, successfully replacing a heart. During the long hours of the procedure, she had hoped it was her own heart she was replacing. For a new one, that had never been broken and was now half mended. But sadly it wasn’t. She would have to live with her heart in such a state for the rest of her life, no matter how long or short it would be. She hated herself for feeling this way. Weak for a man who didn’t want her anymore. But it wasn’t any man. It was Jamie.

Her Jamie. And when it came to the scot, Claire was irrational and completely blinded -- no matter how hard she had tried to move on.

The surgeon needed a shower, a glass of whisky and her warm bed. She also needed to forget what day it was but she couldn’t. She knew exactly what was going on today. And at what time it would start. She knew the venue and the number of guests -- because her ex-husband’s soon-to-be new wife had told her so and anyone who cared to listen at work. She knew the type of dress she’d be wearing. And the shoes. She knew everything. What Claire didn’t know was why Jamie was getting married again. It’s not that she didn’t know. It was that she didn’t dare to think of the reason. Love. Most likely. A sentiment deep enough for him to decide to spend the rest of his life with another woman. When he had started to date Annalise, she almost found it funny. After all, they had been divorced for eight years, back then. He had never been with anyone until the french nurse. Claire never thought it would last very long. It was most likely a fling because he felt alone. The kind of fling she had once or twice that never lasted much more than a few days.

She had been wrong. It was apparently fare more than just that. The sooner she’d accept it, the better she would start to feel.

The minute she got home, she poured herself a glass and sipped it as she made her way upstairs, to the bathroom. She got undressed, tossing her clothes around and stepped under the boiling water, letting it burn over her porcelain skin. She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. She wished she had done so many things differently. She wished she had made things work with Jamie, even if they had been really bad, back then. After all, neither one of them cheated or stopped loving the other. They could have worked their way out of the fog they were in and made it through, stronger. And together. But they hadn’t. It was too late now.

Claire knew one day she would make peace with this entire situation. She thought she had a long time ago. Now holidays and birthdays would always be a reminder once again that her marriage had failed every time she saw Annalise. She didn’t want to share any part of her life, her children, with that woman and she hated that she didn’t have a say. Jamie was not hers to tell what to do or who to love or not to love. What she needed to do was release him. But in the releasing of him… she was also getting rid of a part of herself.

She reluctantly got out of the shower after almost twenty minutes and dried her body and hair quickly. She changed into a nightgown and crawled into bed. She knew she’d dream of Jamie but she was too exhausted to fight it this time. As soon as her head hit the pillow, she let slumber take over her body and James Fraser over her mind.

***** A knock came from the door before it partially opened and Elena stuck her head in. “Annalise is almost ready, Da. Ye should take yer place at the altar,” she smiled softly.

“Aye, I will.” He smiled and walked over to his daughter, kissing her on the cheek. All of his children had been so supportive in his new relationship, but he couldn’t help but wonder if his daughter’s felt the same as Alex.

“Ye look beautiful , a leannan,” He touched her cheek, “Ye took everythin’ after yer Mam.”

“Thanks, Da,” she blushed. “I wish she was here,” she said and then saw Jamie’s expression. “Only because it doesna feel right without her here but of course she wouldna come to this. It would be weird.”

“Aye,” his lips curled up on one side before falling into a frown.

“I hope someday she’ll find someone who makes her happy like Annalise makes you, though, I’m tired of seeing her alone,” Elena said. “Sorry, Da… I didn’t mean to bring up Mam.”

“Tis fine, a leannan, it’s normal for ye to think of yer Mam on a day like this. She deserves to be verra happy, aye,” He kissed her cheek. “I best get to the front. I’m sure Annalise is waiting now.”

“She’s been screaming all day,” Elena rolled her eyes. “Seems nothin’ has gone to her plans.”

“Ah, great,” Jamie laughed and then watched his daughter walk back to his soon to be wife’s room.

“Come on lad,” Jamie took one last look in the mirror before leaving and making his way into the hallway. With every step he took, Jamie felt his heart clenching. His mind was at war and he thought he might just be sick too. Could he really do this?

He could see it now -- the altar. But what he couldn’t see was himself standing up there beside Annalise vowing to love her until death do them part. He saw Claire, the way she had looked at the courthouse the day they got married. With her curls wild around her face and her little white dress and converse.

Jamie’s heart was miles away, probably at home with a glass of whisky in hand. Not just feet away in another room, wearing an expensive wedding dress. He should have realized it sooner than this and he hated himself for it -- but he couldn’t marry Annalise.

“I canna do it,” he said mostly to himself but also to Alex who had stopped beside him.

“Canna do what, Da?” His son frowned, looking at his father. “Tis just a few more steps…”

“I canna marry her, Alex. Ye ken it as well as I do that I’m no happy unless I’m wi’ yer Mam. Annalise is a kind woman, but she is no the one for me. I already have my person.”

Alex smirked, “Well go then, Da. Go find her. I’ll let everyone know.”

“I’m a coward,” Jamie sighed. “It should be me to tell Annalise--”

“No, Da. The only thing ye should concern yerself is gettin’ to Mam, it’s her who needs ye now,” Alex hugged him and then pushed him away towards the door. “Go! Tell her I said hi!”

Suddenly the steps came easier and Jamie broke out into a run. The church wasn’t far from Claire’s -- their -- house. He was dressed in a kilt and running through the streets of Glasgow, but he didn’t care. He had to get to her, to tell her everything.

******

Claire’s mind was numb, she didn’t know for how long she had been sleeping.  As well as her body, her limbs felt heavy and she didn’t want to get out of bed just yet. When she heard a tapping on her window, she rolled over onto her side, pressing the pillow over her head.

“Go away damn birds!” She groaned.

The tapping persisted and then it sounded an awful lot like the window was being opened. Claire rolled over to face the window and nearly fell off the bed when she saw a man climbing through her window.

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ! What the bloody hell!” She scrambled off the bed, eyes barely opened and still heavy with slumber. She threw the first thing she found at the man.

“Claire! Sassenach, stop, tis me!”

She whirled around, her eyes adjusting to the darkness of the room -- she must have dozed for hours. “Jamie? What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be getting married right now?” Her eyes flashed to the alarm clock beside the bed and it was exactly the time he should be getting married.

“I couldn’t go through wi’ it, mo nighean donn,” Jamie took a step forward until he was right in front of her.

“Well why ever not?” She was confused. Surely, she was still very much asleep.

He laughed softly, sliding his hands to cup her cheeks. “Because of ye, Sassenach. It’s always been you.”

“Me?” She nearly choked on the word, not quite believing she was even awake. “But you love her, you love Annalise.”

Jamie shook his head, “Nah. I thought I did, but I canna ever love another woman the way that I love you. Oh Claire…” he sighed, “Yer all I think about. Ever since the day we signed the divorce papers, ye havena left my thoughts.”

“This won’t work, Jamie. It ended for a reason,” Claire tried to reason with him, but on the inside she was screaming. This is what she wanted -- for him to choose her all over again.

“Aye, it did. We were different people and we learned things since then,” Jamie slid one hand to her waist and then took her left hand in his. “Tell me, Sassenach. Tell me ye havena thought of me and I’ll leave. Tell me ye dinna love me anymore and I swear ye willna have to ever see me again if ye dinna wish to -- ”

“You know I’ve never stopped,” she interrupted his speech and finally allowed herself to relax in his arms. He brought her hand to his mouth and placed a kiss on her knuckles. “It’s always just been the two of us.”

“Against the world,” he smiled tenderly. “Time may try to keep us apart, Sassenach, but what we have -- our love is stronger than it all. Ye ken it as much as ye...I’m tired of bein’ a fool -- ”

“Are you going to kiss me at some point, or…?” Claire smiled mischievously, licking her lips.

“Aye,” he chuckled, wrapping both his arms around her and she leaned up to meet him halfway.

[hostclubtrash]

This is a story I've been working on, if you like this send me a chat and I'll share more.

I can't stop thinking about him, ever since that night, he's been stuck in my mind. The way that he wrapped his arms around me and looked up to me like I was the only thing he thought about. That cute little twinkle in his eyes when he asked me to be his coach and the adorable smile he had on his face. I can't even count how many drinks he had though, he must have been drinking over his score, but I probably would have been doing the same thing. I hope he's still here when I leave or at the very least that I'll see him again, "Oh what I'd do to see that adorable smile again ahhhh!" I covered my mouth with the shirt I was packing back into my suitcase, "Hurry up old man, with you taking so long we'll be late for our flight." That Yuri is always calling me old, now just because I have silver hair doesn't mean anything! I sigh to myself and shake my head, clearing it from the thoughts of my mystery man.

"Hurry! You took long enough at the hotel!" I roll my eyes and ruffle his hair, "With such a temper you'll never land yourself a significant other Yuri." He pushed my hand away and gave me a soft 'tch' and walked away towards the bathroom, almost sixteen years old and he's still scared to use the plane bathroom, I smile to myself, some things will never change. I continue to search for our gate as Yakov talks my ear off telling me all of the things that I need to help Yuri with and how I need to clean up my practice times for the next season, but I don't have the heart to tell him I'm considering retiring from the sport, I'm not skating for myself anymore, I haven't felt happy skating for a few years now, that spark that it once had is gone and I'm not sure how to get it back. "Victor, are you even listening?" I give him a nod as I look towards the bathroom waiting for our young tiger to come back out, which he does quickly. He has a smirk on his face, not odd for him but what for, and then I see him, the black-haired boy from last night, he has glasses on now that fit him perfectly, how silly of me not to think about that. I feel a wave of heat cross over my face as I watch him rub his eyes, he must still be tired from last night.

"Hey, kid?! You're Yuri Katsuki right?" He looked up to the man and gave a soft nod, not opening his mouth at all, just a simple nod. "You better not be serious when you talk about retiring, you're way too young for that!" My eyes widened and my jaw slightly dropped, is that seriously something he's considering, of course, it wouldn't feel amazing scoring last in a GPF but he's still so young and has so much more time. "Well, I'm still thinking about my future sir, and just graduating has been a hurdle itself, I think I need more time before I make my decision, but thank you for your concern." He was so soft-spoken it was hard for me to hear him but his words hurt, I'm not sure why but hearing someone as young as him is considering retirement is unfathomable. "You better not quit on us you hear me!" He looked to the floor and walked passed the man he was speaking with, "I make no promises sir." Suddenly he's walking in my direction. What do I do? Just act cool and natural, oh no he's almost gone quick- "Hello would you like a commemorative photo?" He looked back at me and we locked eyes, his got wide and his eyebrows furrowed softly, he looked like he might tear up, but he turned around and walked away quickly, why was he acting so cold?

We got on the plane and Yakov switched seats with Yuri so he's sitting by me, I don't mind it though, on flights he's normally very quiet and just sleeps with his headphones in but he forgot to charge his phone last night so now he's got endless thing to talk about. "I could barely get any sleep last night thank to that idiot Yuri, with his stupid blue tie, kept dragging me onto the dance floor to battle him, tch, this is why we only need one Yuri in the senior division." This struck a cord with me. "You know that boy? What can you tell me about him?" Yuri looked at me the weird way he always does when I get really excited, "Oh, well he's Yuri Katsuki he's about twenty-four I think, eh why do you care so much he's nothing special just a wannabe loser who thinks he's good at skating." Oh so his name is also Yuri, interesting, "If he's nothing special why does he bother you so much?" Teasing Yuri is one of my favorite things so I do it as much as possible, much to his annoyance. "He doesn't bother me, I just don't want two Yuri's to be in the same division, but with his luck, he won't even make it to the senior divisiin next year." I grumble at his thought, from what I've seen of him during the competition he did ok, there is room for much improvment but for being his age he's doing a good job. "How are you wide awake? I can never get you this chipper in the morning for practice, and since that pig was all over you last night I can't imagine you got much sleep." I could feel the smile grow on my face thinking about last night, how cute that little tie looked around his head, the tie itself I'm not fond of but he was adorable in it, and don't get me wrong he looked wonderful in that suit but when he took it all off, I'm not sure how I contained myself from touching his body last night. "For your information, I slept amazing last night." He did his usual 'tch' and turned over in his seat and tried to get some rest.

When the plane landed I was more than happy to be back in Russia and even more excited that I get to see my baby Makkachiin again, being away from her for so long literally tears my heart up, and silly Yakov wouldn't let me take her with me because "The hotel doesn't allow animals of any kind." He knows very well I could have talked them into letting her stay with me but nooooooo. I grab a taxi and give it directions to my apartment, and lucky for me it doesn't take too long. When I get home I unlock my door and walk in, immediately being greeted by my poodle, who jumps on me and pushes me to the ground, standing on my stomach licking my face, happy to see me home. "Awe, hey girl have you been a good girl for daddy? Oh, I'm sure you have, yes you have." I pet her all over and give her a hug and continue petting her, I missed her like crazy while I was gone. I manage to get up and shut the door setting my suitcase down by the couch, I bring my shirt up to my nose and give it a smell, I immediately pull back and decide I need to do laundry, I dump out all of my clothes into the washer and throw the clothes I was wearing in and turn it on, I then walk to my bedroom and grab new clothes, taking them to the the bathroom and start a shower.

I put my head under the cool running water and close my eyes. He hasn't left my mind all day, I wonder what he's doing right now? Could he be thinking about me? By the way he acted last night it's completely possible. I wonder what he's thinking about with me. I shake the thought from my mind, "Bad Victor, he's an innocent boy, he wouldn't think such thoughts, unless...? No Victor bad!" I shake my head again and begin to wash myself thinking about all the things I want to know about him. "I wonder who his best friend is and where he was going to school since I overheard he just graduated. I can't help but smile, thinking about his smile and his big brown eyes, he just looked so innocent and eager about something, determined even. I finish washing my body, "I wonder how he would do it, and if he's not so innocent and he paid attention to my...VICTOR BAD! BAD VERY BAD!" Gha! Why do I keep thinking like that, from last night I don't think he's that kind of boy. But there's lots to him that I don't know, I shake my head and turn the shower off, grabbing a towel and drying myself off.

I get my sweatpants on and grab my phone and open Instagram up, the first thing I see is a picture of Chris and his cat cuddling on the couch, caption 'Missed this baby all week, so happy to bd back together!' I like his post and then go to my explore page and I type his name in, 'Yuri Katsuki' and his picture pops up, and I click on it. I scoll through his page a little and find out a fee things about him, his best friend seems to be a boy named Phichit, looks like they were roommates and rink mates, they were both going to the same college in Detroit and where both being taught under Celestino. There was a lot of pictures of him and Phichit smiling of studing hard. I resist the urge to want to like any posts, I don't want to seem like a stocker of overwhelm him somehow, so I decided to just drop it and sit on the couch and cuddle with my baby Makkachiin, in which doing so I fell sleep.

This is all I'm going to post for now. Let me know if you like this story and I'll keep it updated on here. Send me a chat it you want to learn more about it. 😁

[http-lostforever]

Silenced- 2

Paring: OT7 x reader

Summary: Y/n was an average girl, passing the police academy with a passing score and no overly special talents, she was matched with a sarcastic, moody, cigarette-smoking detective as a partner. Not only was he already a handful, but the forensic scientist that was assigned to Team 4--as they called themselves--had made it clear that he was interested in Y/n. With those two constantly bickering and the tragic event of a new unsolved case thrown in their laps, how will they feel when their worlds are turned upside down with the entry of a new officer and a case that was way over their heads?

Warnings: Blood, Gore, smoking, cursing, cliche?

Looking at my partner in disbelief I quickly grasped the interior handle as Tae had flipped the switch for the cars siren to go off. The loud blaring sound echoed through the early morning streets, he quickly yanked the steering wheel at the intersection--or as he would call it 'flipping a bitch'--and slammed his foot onto the gas pedal, speeding off in the opposite direction of HQ.

"What are you doing? We have to go back and give the report to the director?!" I snapped at him, shooting a dirty look just as quickly. He knows damn well that we'll get our asses chewed if we're not back in time. And by we, I mean me, because he always manages to disappear when the hammer comes down.

But I know that it's useless because if there's one thing that I've learned about Taehyung, its that once he has his mind set on something, there's no stopping him.

I let out a loud and over animated sigh to show him my displeasure which is only returned with a small chuckle of his own.

"Could you atleast turn the lights off? And maybe drive like a normal person for once?!" I said while reaching out, trying to flip the switch that would kill the obnoxious sirens. But just as my hand barely ghosted over the switch Tae had shot his large hand out, caging my fingers in his palm, giving him an advantage over any struggling I would try..

He looks me dead in the eye, a hard, cold look settled over his face as any glimpse of warmth in his brown eyes was gone, leaving them dull and angry. He opened his mouth, a tight frown pulling his lips down before saying

"Only the captain can operate the ship"

Furrowing my brows I stared at him in disbelief.

How could a man like this be so childish?

Yanking my hand out of his I turned my focus back towards the slightly fogged up window. Letting my eyes rest upon the landscape as rain poured down, lashing at the windshield as we drove. Large buildings stood on either side of us, towering into the sky acting as glass giants whilst looking down onto the ground where all daily life was lived. It took me a couple of seconds to realize that the rain had slowly let up, replaced by a light shower that you could barely tell was there. The dark thunderous clouds above had lost their density, turning into a hazy fog that blanketed the sky.

We sat in silence for a while, sounds of the car heater and a drastically turned down journey whispered through the car. Closing my eyes for a brief moment I took in the serenity of the situation, Tae had learned to not talk too much during the car rides as the final destination never seemed to be pleasant, thus leaving the ride there as a wind down time. The sirens seemed to be distant now, my focus wavering on reality as sleep was slowly taking over.

The slight jostling of my shoulder caused me to snap my eyes open and meet soft russet brown ones.

"We're here" His tone was soft, mostly for feeling bad at the possibility of waking me up again, but nonetheless we both shifted ourselves out of the police car and onto the sidewalk. Before us stood a tiny yellow building, flourishing plants lined the window both inside and out. Colorful flowers lined the stone path that lead to the large and heavy oak door, colors weaved off and on giving it the look as if it was freshly cut from a tree and placed on this little shops front.

Upon the door lied a light wooden plaque 'Welcome to Aroma Mocha Cafe' written in rich black calligraphy. Passing my stilled body, Taehyung had taken the lead and pushed the large door open, which resulted in a small golden bell chiming above our heads along with the warm greeting of the barista inside. The lush smell of freshly brewed coffee and baked bread filled our senses, I inhaled deeply taking in the scents and sounds before looking back over to Tae.

He had quickly gestured for me to find a place for the two of us while he would go get our drinks. Nodding my head in approval I turned around and made my way through the mazes of tables before reaching the large stone fireplace. A small wooden table was placed in front, two plush chairs lined the ends as they both were able to soak in the heat from the ongoing fire.

I quickly plopped down into the chair on the right, the fire instantly warming my body and lulling my brain into a fine relaxation. I couldn't help but take in the surrounding environment, the walls were made of what looked like rustic bricks while picture frames lined the walls, filled with articles and newspapers of any major event that had taken place since the shop had opened. Turning my head I took in the dark oak wood that made up the floor, it was very well taken care of considering how many people walked on it daily. But much like the floor the counters of the bar had the same dark wood wrapped around them, twisting with different colors letting you know it was specially picked.

The lights that hung from the ceiling were dim, illuminating the room enough to see but not to the point it was headache-worthy. On the other side, the windows that lined the from of the shop were covered with thick curtains, letting in just enough of the cloud filtered light to illuminate the room more, but still giving the effect of it being later than it actually was.

It was a comfortable cafe, enough that one could forget their problems as they walked in, letting them truly rest in the peacefulness and nurse their coffee until they absolutely had to leave. I leaned my head onto my hand, tilting it to the side as I stared at the customers of the day.

A few groggy college kids sat at the surrounding tables, earbuds snug in their ears as they tipped away on their laptops. A pair of early rising elderly ladies who shared photos of how big their grandchildren were getting. An occasional business man would walk in and check his watch every now and then, but immediately after he would sip his coffee and close his eyes, enjoying the peace.

But what always catches my attention is the the wooden steinway piano that is placed to my right. It's grand body was molded to the the corner, as it had never been moved since the first time Tae and I had come here. The polished wood shone dully in the minimal light, it's image brightened by the row of ivory keys shimmering underneath the lone light placed above them.

The shop occasionally hires people to play it from time to time but there's a small piece of paper that rests on the music stand the lets people know that if they get an urge to play a melody or two that they are more than welcome. Occupying the stool at the moment is a middle aged man with graying hair. His hands slide effortlessly across the ivory keys, indicating that he has been playing for quite some time. Several songs later, his tone changes and he starts playing what I would assume to be his own rendition of my funny valentine. The melody goes perfectly with the atmosphere of the coffee shop only adding more warmth to the small establishment.

My mind starts drifting into the lull of the sweet song and before I know it, my eyes have closed and I'm on the brink of drifting to sleep. The scraping of the wooden legs of the chair and the oak floor meeting brings me back to my surroundings. He slides the warm mug across the table and I lace my fingers around its body to collect the warmth that is escaping its exterior. Tae and I have been coming here since we became partners in the police academy.

" That took you a lot longer than I expected it to take. You didn't get lost on the way to the counter did you? I figured it was a pretty straight shot so there probably wasn't a lot of room to mess up." I say teasingly.

"Yeah well I got a little held up" he added while tilting back the lip of the cup to his mouth.

Turning around I could see a barista running the cash register, I was too far away to make out her features but I would guess that she was pretty since she had long brown hair and most of the guys who walked away from the counter all had stupid grins on their faces. Seeing that she has taken an interest in my partner, I decided to go in for the kill.

"Ohhhhhhhhh so it was the barista who was getting all of your attention. You sly dog." I poke trying to get a reaction.

"I'm really not sure at what your trying to get at" he responds.

"Come on Taehyung. I've known you for almost two years and for all that time you haven't had one girlfriend. Actually you haven't even looked in a girls direction. This morning that jogger was practically on top of you ready to call you daddy and you shook her hand. You. Shook. Her. Hand! Is there something you're hiding from me? Taehyung, are you gay?." prodding a little harder I can tell that he's getting frustrated and starting to take my bait.

"I just don't time for girls okay!? Geez get off my back!" with that he abruptly slides his chair back with an obvious amount of attitude.

"Hey where are you going?"

"Bathroom."

Stomping off towards the empty hallway, he left me sitting there. A look of shock painting my face at his sudden reaction. He didn't have to get upset about it, it was just a joke and if he really was gay then he shouldn't feel like he needs to hide it from me.

A couple of minutes pass by before Tae come strolling out of the bathroom door.

"Okay let's go." Tae says sternly making it clear that he wouldn't be adding anything else to the conversation.

There was a long silence in the car as we drove back to HQ. I can honestly count on one hand how many times that Tae has actually been mad enough at me to not be talking to me. I go to turn the radio on to break the silence but he immediately squashes my efforts by turning it off just to make sure that he's getting his point across. A couple more minutes of silence pass before I finally cave in to mend the situation.

"I'm sorry" I mumble.

"Hmmmmmm did I hear something? No it was probably just a bug."

"Taehyung! Don't call me a bug!!"

I was answered with silence.

"Tae seriously I'm sorry. If I had known that it was going to upset you so much then I wouldn't have said anything. I just figured that since you're such a nice guy that maybe it would be good for you to date. It would take your mind out of the shit that we have to deal with on a daily basis. And to add on top of it you're nice even when you're angry. Like no other guy I know would hold open the door for someone their angry at..." I continue babbling without any hint of stopping.

"Its fine. There really isn't any need to worry about it. I'm just not a relationship kind of guy that's all." He reached over and turned on the radio until it was a slight hum all the while never once looking over at me. Leaving the conversation at that he quickly made it clear that I was slightly forgiven, but with the low volume of the radio he wasn't interested in talking anymore.  

Letting out a playful huff of air I crossed my arms and slouched in the passenger seat. My eyes met Taehyung's playful ones for but a second, but that was all I needed for me to know he was back to his grumpy yet happy self.

"Let's get back to HQ"

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

The slight screeching of the tires could be heard as we came to a full stop, Tae luckily didn't pull another stunt and use the sirens illegally again. He quickly placed the car in park, unclipping his seat belt quickly after, then hopped out with an instant response of throwing his arms up in the air to stretch out his back as if we were sitting forever.

"You act so much like an old man, should I start looking for retirement plans for you?" I snickered while getting out of the car. He quickly shot back a glare and pressed the lock button on his keys twice until the car beeped in response.

"Did you grab the evidence?"

He looked over and quickly nodded in a quick effort of praise as we walked into the large building. Automatic glass doors slid open as we approached them, the brown paper bag felt heavy in my hand as the slight knowledge of a dead girls blood, hair, skin cells, everything, was wrapped perfectly in cold plastic containers.

"If we're lucky Team 2 will let us test the evidence in their lab again."

"What? Why don't we just call-"

"No. I don't wanna call that nutcase back, he's perfectly fine on vacation."

I furrowed my eyebrows at his cold response, an obvious look of annoyance crossed his face as I brought up our other partner. When we graduated the academy and applied here together as partners we were placed in Team 4, a rookie team at the time that only had 1 person. So we became a full team with the help of our trusty forensic scientist, aka the bane of Taehyung's existence for some odd reason.

As we exited the elevator, we quickly took a sharp left and waltzed our way towards the large grey door that held a black '4' on it. As well as small stickers of flowers, cats, and dogs that surrounded the bleak number. Throwing the door open Taehyung quickly made his way inside, heading straight for our coffee table.

The room was rectangular, but the medium sized lab took up most of the right side of the room, leaving the space outside in an 'L' shape. Tae and my desks were placed in the middle of the room, my back facing the glass windows of the lab while Tae looked directly into it--as his desk was placed in front of mine.

Sliding the brown bag onto my desk, papers shuffling about and nearly falling off my desk, I heaved my body into my rolly chair. Giving it a good spin before coming to a halt to stare at my partner.

"When should we go to the boss?" I twirled the chair once again, Tae following my actions but in his own chair hidden from my view.

"'I'm not sure, if anything he'll call us up there when it's time."

Stopping my chair once again I leaned over my desk and peered into his space, very few personal decorations filled his desk. A photo of his parents and him tacked onto his cork board, the small cactus I gave him for our 2 year anniversary--as he refused to go out to go out to dinner if it was the 3 of us.

"I'm not gonna wait until he gets pissed enough and come running down the hall to kick my ass." I glared at the brown haired male.

"It wouldn't just be you."

"Bullshit, You manage to get out every time he starts to go off."

"That's not true."

"Name one time you stayed through the whole thing." I raised my eyebrow studying each of his quirks go off as he furrowed his brow and began to chew on his lip--his bad habit to do while he's thinking. He opened and closed his mouth like a fish as each time flew past his memory, all proving me right.

"Fine, you win, but we're still going to ask Team 2."

Grinning in satisfaction I quickly nodded an empty confirmation to his request and picked up the phone. Dialling Team 2's leader I slowly looked at each of my nails, inspecting them for any dirt that may have burrowed their way under my nails.

"Team 2 speaking-"

A sharp knock sounded at the door gaining both of our attention, flinging the phone into Tae's large hands we both made a silent pray between the two of us. Praying it wasn't our boss.

I slowly walked forward, my boots pushing heavily into the carpeted ground. My heart rose to my throat, the room was silent except for the knocking that sounded again and Taehyung's pleading for Team 2's help. Slight grumbling could be heard on the other side of the door, and just as my hand reached the cold metal knob--the warmth already escaping my hand in seconds. The door was flung open, a blonde haired male stood on the other side. A wide grin etched into his face as our eyes met.

"I heard you guys needed your Forensic Scientist back!"

He quickly ran past the open door and wriggled himself into my unsuspecting arms, a laugh bubbled from my stomach as I greeted him.

"No fucking way." Tae growled, dropping the phone back onto the receiver--hanging up on Team 2 all together.

"I missed you sweetheart." He laced his hand into my hair and ruffled it, a large grin placed on both of our faces.

"I missed you to, Jimin."

[mayquita]

The Grape Incident (2/?)

Yes, I know, this story was supposed to have only two parts, but I can't help myself and now I'm not sure if there will be 1 or 2 more parts, but at least the chapters are short, right? My muse has decided to take me down this road, so I rather follow it instead of not writing at all. Also, it's kind of odd that I'm posting this several days after New Year's Eve but the inspiration comes in the most unexpected moments.

This is unbeta'd so apologize in advance for all the nonsense and the many mistakes.

As for the chapter, I will explain better the tradition of grapes on New Year's Eve in the next chapter but in case there is someone who doesn't know it, Spanish people eat twelve grapes at midnight to welcome the new year.

Summary: Emma and Killian are best friends and together with the rest of their friends and family decide to welcome the new year in a special way, traveling to Madrid. On New Year’s Eve, Emma has a revelation, although maybe she learns it in an unexpected and a little terrifying form.

Word Count: ~ 2500

Ao3 / FFnet Part 1

As expected, the girls gave her significant glances as they gestured towards the sleeping beauty, even Mary Margaret, clearly tipsy after taking several shots, started giggling quietly, causing the other two to laugh in a not-so-silent way.

Emma shook her head as she rolled her eyes and put her finger to her lips to shush them, waving her other hand in a dismissive gesture to get them out of the room.

Only then did she focus her attention on Killian. She should wake him up and send him to bed, since that couch didn't seem particularly comfortable, but before doing so, she allowed herself a few seconds to observe him.

His long, dark lashes brushed his cheeks as his lips remained slightly parted, letting a soft snore escape between them. This wasn't the first time Emma had watched Killian as he slept, and she would never recognize it before him, but watching his features relax during sleep had a reassuring effect on her. Killian's life had not been easy either, he also carried several demons from the past in the form of abandonment and a broken heart, but at least during the sleep, they usually gave him a break.

A lock of his hair fell rebellious on his forehead, so Emma could not help but bend and reach out to brush it away. It was just a feather touch but Killian might have noticed her presence even in dreams because his eyelids started fluttering as he stirred slightly.

"Hello, beautiful." He murmured through a soft smile without bothering to open his eyes. Then he moved a little to make room for her on the couch.

Emma deliberately ignored the flutter of her stomach caused by the fact that Killian was aware of her identity when she hadn't spoken yet and he kept his eyes closed. But she couldn't help Mary Margaret's previous words echoing in her mind. "Shouldn't you be sleeping? In your bed?"

"Was watching TV and I fell asleep," Killian muttered hastily and then continued, changing the subject, something that didn't go unnoticed by Emma. "Did you have fun?"

"Yeah, it was ... a quite interesting night."

This time Killian did crack an eye open and glanced at her. "Should I be worried?" She was tempted for a moment to continue on the path of flirting. Banter and innuendo had always been a constant in their relationship, but the previous conversation in the bar had somehow had an effect on her. Although she wasn't that drunk, just a bit tipsy, she didn't trust herself, fearing that alcohol would have caused her defenses to go down enough to expose her feelings when she wasn't ready. After shrugging, she offered a brief summary. "Nope, we've had some drinks sprinkled with the usual gossip and we've danced for a little bit."

"Dancing, huh?" His eyebrows swayed suggestively, while he smirked at her. "Now is when I'm beginning to regret not having accompanied you, Swan." "It was a ladies night." She reminded him. "And how about you in the grape-thing event? Did Henry have fun? Did you have a hard time making him go to sleep?" "If we ignore the fact that we almost suffered several panic attacks for fear of losing the lads in the crowd, it was a pretty enjoyable event. The kids were quite excited when they managed to eat all the grapes during the rehearsal." There was a hint of pride in his voice, but Emma decided not to read much into it, since, after all, his nephews were there too. "Well, he was a bit hyperactive when we got here, but after taking a shower he seemed to relax. We did a storytelling session for all the kids and, although he resisted a tad more than his cousins, he ended up falling asleep too." Emma's heart melted a little while she listened to Killian talking about her son. Not only did Henry adore Killian, but the feeling was also reciprocal. Far from reassuring her, that thought caused the butterflies in her stomach to flutter with more force. What was wrong with her today? Emma held back a groan while inwardly cursing the girls for putting those thoughts in her head.

They chatted between whispers a few more minutes, Killian offering more details about their evening and how Henry was nervous while eating the grapes and couldn't wait to repeat the operation, but this time with all of them.

"So are we going to do the grape-thing tomorrow?" Emma asked as she wrinkled her nose slightly, since she was not a fan of grapes and did not see the point in eating twelve grapes quickly to welcome the new year. "I don't get that tradition." "Technically it's today, it's past midnight, love, and admit it, you don't like grapes, that’s why you’re reluctant about this tradition, but I think it will be fun. You have to try new things, Swan." "Yeah, whatever..." She huffed causing his lips to curl up drawing an incipient smirk that was truncated by a yawn that he tried unsuccessfully to contain by covering his mouth.

A sensation, mixture of guilt and something she didn't know or didn't want to identify, grew inside her. Killian had been waiting awake for her until he had finally succumbed to sleep. No one had forced him, that was true, but the fact that she was in someone else's mind in that way caused that strange sensation to increase.

She acted before it was impossible to control that wave of feelings, standing up and offering her hand to Killian to help him get up. If she felt an electric shock when he took her hand, she ignored it completely. "Come on, it's time to go to bed."

"Finally, Swan, I thought you were never gonna ask."

It was just an innuendo, something she should already be used to, but he accompanied his words with a gesture, his tongue darting out to wet his lips in an almost indecent way, which wasn’t helping at all. "You wish." "Perhaps I would."

He was grinning at her, as if he were playing down his words, but the hint of longing that crossed his gaze did not go unnoticed by her. Seriously, what was happening today? Was it perhaps the air of Madrid, which had the power to make feelings that would otherwise remain buried begin to bloom and threaten to surface? Was her state of light drunkenness that made her imagine things?

She pulled those thoughts away with a shake of her head while rolling her eyes, pretending to ignore his words.

Tomorrow —or today, whatever — was the last day of the year, time to set new year resolutions. But until then, it was better if they both go to sleep, in different beds — and rooms, just in case. That did not stop the embrace they shared before parting ways from lingering more than was strictly necessary, but she refused to abandon the warmth and security that his arms always offered her. Only when she entered her bedroom looking for the shelter her agitated heart needed she let out the breath she had been holding. "What are you doing here?"

Ruby's unexpected voice caused her to wince. "Jesus Christ, Rubs, shouldn't you be asleep?" She muttered, as she groped her way to her bed and lay down, not even bothering to take off her boots. “This is also my bedroom, we’ve been sharing for a couple of days..”

"But shouldn't you be with your man?" "If you mean Henry, he's already asleep." Her eyesight hadn't yet adjusted to the darkness, but Emma could feel Ruby's eyes rolling. No way was she going to have this conversation again. Nope. "I gotta go… to the bathroom." Emma clarified and sat up again, grabbing the sleeping clothes that were under her pillow. "Don't even think about being awake when I come back." "Okay... but just one more thing, you should channel that unresolved sexual tension into other more pleasurable activities, instead of taking it against your friend who is only trying to help here." Ruby's speech ended with a cry of surprise after receiving the impact of a pillow on the head. That was one of Emma's skills, her good aim. If she had to resort to drastic measures to silence her friends, so be it.

//

The next day, the last day of the year, Emma woke up with a hangover that she found perhaps a little disproportionate if she considered the amount of drink ingested. To her consolation, the rest of the girls — Especially Ruby— weren't in better condition, so the guys, again, took pity on them and led the boys out to do some tourism, so that they could recover. Bless them.

Once her mind had cleared enough, Emma was able to take stock of the year that was now coming to an end. It had been a good year, she concluded, similar to the previous years, a quiet one, without too many emotions, but she enjoyed that security offered by having a stable job and a group of people around her who would always have her back. Despite the insistence of her friends, she hoped that the new year would continue the same, without surprises, without fears, without risks.

Maybe her heart had other ideas, even her body betrayed her in the most unexpected situations, her skin tingling, her heart racing, butterflies fluttering in her stomach every time Killian was in her presence or she heard his voice, but she was going to try to keep her cold mind. She was fine like that.

The boys did not come back for lunch, so she just spent the day lazing around, lying on the couch with Ruby emulating her same position on the other couch. The other two girls didn't seem to accuse the effects of the hangover so much, since, before the boys returned, Mary Margaret and Elsa put themselves in organizational mode, finalizing the preparations for the last dinner of the year.

"How is it possible that Mary Margaret has so much energy?" Ruby grumbled under her breath.

Emma cracked one eye open to glance at her friend who looked miserable, curled up and hugging a cushion without even bothering to open her eyes.

"She's older, maybe that gives her experience to tolerate alcohol better." It was a poor excuse, but her brain felt still like cotton, preventing her from thinking clearly.

Ruby scoffed. "That's bullshit, Ems. I'm only five months younger than her, I have no responsibilities, no children to wake me up in the middle of the night, and here I am, my head about to explode and yet those two irritating women don't stop whispering and warbling."

Emma pressed her lips together holding back the laugh that bubbled in her throat. The situation was certainly ridiculous, since Ruby was usually the soul of the party but there must be something in these Spanish drinks that made them feel like crap. Maybe they should have opted to stay in their usual drinks instead of trying new things, like Spanish sangria — the original, not those horrible substitutes they sell out there, as the waiter had pointed out on several occasions.

"It could have been worse." Emma reminded her. "Right now the house could be full of four children of overflowing energy shrieking and bouncing on the couches."

The groan that Ruby released was so loud that it managed to alert the other two.

"Great. I see that you have already returned to the world of the living. Come and help us, there is still much to be done." Mary Margaret called out from the kitchen. "We have to make sure we all have the grapes ready."

This time it was Emma the one who let out a pitiful groan. So it seemed that they were serious, that they were going to carry out that stupid tradition with grapes involved. "It's six in the afternoon, Margs. How the hell do you want us to prepare the grapes?"

She should have known better. Mary Margaret didn't take especially well that someone contradicted her and she didn't hesitate to show it by going to the living room, holding a spatula with one hand while placing the other on her hip and gave them a disapproving look. "You two behave like adults and come help. Now."

"Yes, mom." Ruby scoffed, but she rose from the couch with languid movements and followed her friend to the kitchen, so Emma had no choice but to do the same after letting out an exaggerated sigh.

Once in the kitchen, they met Elsa who was making great efforts to suppress a smirk. Without a word, she handed them a bag full of grapes and several small plates, so Emma and Ruby had no choice but to resign themselves to the laborious chore of distributing twelve grapes on each of the plates.

While doing the task, a somewhat mischievous idea popped into her head, while she wondered if karma would act against her if she casually forgot to put one or two grape on some of the plates. After all, there couldn't be much difference between eleven and twelve grapes, right? Hopefully, she would get for herself one of the plates with fewer grapes.

//

In the end, it turned out that her attempt to cheat was unsuccessful since the first thing her dear son did when they arrived home around eight was to make sure that the grapes were prepared by counting each and every one of them in each plate.

"Hey guys, there are not enough grapes in some of the plates." Henry announced, wrinkling his nose in a confused expression as he grabbed the bag of grapes and replaced the ones that were missing.

Emma immediately felt Mary Margaret's eyes on her. She gave her a sideways glance as she bit her lower lip, her eyes meeting with a glare from her sister-in-law. She crossed her arms over her chest and her lips pressed together into a thin line. Despite her sweet appearance, Mary Margaret could be very intimidating when something bothered her. Emma had the decency to gave her an apologetic look in return as she shrugged slightly.

Why the hell everyone was so obsessed with this grape-thing? Maybe it was true and she was becoming The Grinch of the group...

"You can relax darling, your secret is safe with me." Killian whispered in her ear and then winked at her, causing goosebumps to spread all over her body. Bastard!

"I do not..."

"Open book, remember? And this was a poor attempt to cheat, Swan. But not to worry, I've been told that some children here substitute grapes for olives or even for jellybeans, in case you prefer it too."

His lips curled into a stupid smirk and she felt the desire to erase it even if she had to use her own lips for that. Nope, you better not go down that road ... Get a grip, Emma! This trip had been a terrible mistake. She could not wait to return to Boston and go back to their usual routine.

Thanks for reading :)

[ofcoldguns]

‘✩’ Coldflash?

The Ultimate Relationship Tag | @speedforceprinceSend ‘✩’ for the following:

Disagreements:

Who is more likely to raise their voice? Probably Barry. Len really tries to keep himself under control when he’s in an argument with anyone so it’s highly unlikely.Who threatens to leave but never actually does? Len. He thinks that Barry would be better off without him.Who actually keeps their word and leaves? I don’t think either of them actually goes through with it.Who trashes the house? I don’t think either of them would.Do either of them get physical? No. I think the most there would be is one grabbing the other and forcing them to look at them.How often do they argue/disagree? Quite a bit. Not like huge arguments a lot. But little disagreements here or there.Who is the first to apologise? Probably Barry. Especially in the beginning of the relationship because Len has never been good at apologies especially when it involves feelings.The rest under the cut because this meme is very long

Sex:

Who is on top? Len usually but he does enjoy bottoming too.Who is on the bottom? Like above, usually Barry but sometimes...Who has the strangest desires? Probably LenAny kinks? Yes definitely. I can see some handcuff stuff. Maybe dabbling in roleplay.Who’s dominant in bed? Len but Barry isn’t exactly a pushover.Is head ever in the equation? Oh yesIf so, who is better at performing it? I don’t know about better, but Len is surprisingly enthusiastic about it.Ever had sex in public? Yes.Who moans the most? Barry and Len goes crazy for it.Who leaves the most marks? Barry because all the marks Len tries really hard to leave heal too quickly.Who screams the loudest? BarryWho is the more experienced of the two? LenDo they ‘fuck’ or ‘make love’? It depends on their general mood. When they start out it’s more just fucking but as time goes on they do make love.Rough or soft? Again, it depends on their mood.How long do they usually last? Fairly long.Is protection used? Absolutely. It’s sort of a big thing for Len considering he grew up during the AIDS crisis.Does it ever get boring? Never.Where is the strangest place they’d have sex? In STAR Labs.

Family:

Do your muses plan on having children/or have children? They’ve never really talked about it. If so, how many children do your muses want/have? Again, never really talked about it.Who is the favorite parent? Barry. He spoils them.Who is the authoritative parent? Len because someone has to. But he can be fun too.Who is more likely to allow the children to have a day off school? Len probably.Who lets the children indulge in sweets and junk food when the other isn’t around? Barry does.Who turns up to extra curricular activities to support their children? Both of them do.Who goes to parent teacher interviews? Who changes the diapers? They rotate.Who gets up in the middle of the night to feed the baby? They rotate.Who spends the most time with the children? It ends up being Len since Barry has an actual job.Who packs their lunch boxes? Len does. He’s already up incredibly early.Who gives their children ‘the talk’? Len does and it’s so awkward because it’s so detailed and technical. Like he has pamphlets and everything.Who cleans up after the kids? Barry does since he’s fast.Who worries the most? Len Who are the children more likely to learn their first swear word from? Uncle Mick  Len

Affection:

Who likes to cuddle? Barry does. Len secretly does.Who is the little spoon? Barry usually.Who gets naughty in the most inappropriate of places? Len most often.Who struggles to keep their hands to themself? Len.How long can they cuddle until one becomes uncomfortable? Maybe a couple hours.Who gives the most kisses? BarryWhat is their favourite non-sexual activity? Binge watching stuff.Where is their favourite place to cuddle? Oh the couch definitely.Who is more likely to playfully grope the other? Len.How often do they get time to themselves? Not a lot between superhero/supervillain stuff and Barry’s job.

Sleeping:

Who snores? Neither really.Do they share a bed or sleep separately? ShareIf they sleep together, do they cozy up together or lay far apart? Cozy up. Even if they start far apart they will end up cozied up to each other.Who talks in their sleep? BarryWhat do they wear to bed? Len is usually in full PJs and Barry’s usually just in boxers.Are either of your muses insomniacs? Len is.Can sleeping pills be found by the bedside? Nope.Do they wrap their limbs around each other or just lay side by side? Wrapped around.Who wakes up with bed hair? Barry.Who wakes up first? Len because he’s always up unreasonably early.Who prepares breakfast in bed for the other? Len since he’s up so early.What is their favourite sleeping position? Spooning.Who hogs the sheets? Barry.Do they set an alarm each night? Barry does. Len doesn’t need to.Can a television be found in their bedroom? Yes.Who has nightmares? They both do.Who has ridiculous dreams? Barry.Who sprawls out and takes up most of the bed? Barry does.Who makes the bed? Barry does since he’s usually the last one out of bed.What time is bed time? Whenever they get home since they’re both out so late most of the time.Any routines/rituals before bed? Len does unless he’s too tired to do anything.Who’s the grumpiest when they wake up? Len.

Work:

Who is the busiest? Barry unless Len is planning a heist with the other Rogues.Who rakes in the highest income? Len. Just don’t ask where some of it comes from.Are any of your muses unemployed? Nope.Who takes the most sick days? Barry but not because he’s sick.Who is more likely to turn up late to work? Barry.Who sucks up to their boss? Barry’s the only one who has a boss.What are their jobs? Obviously Barry’s a CSI and Len owns a bar.Who stresses the most? Len.Do your muses enjoy or despise their careers/occupations? Yeah they’re pretty happy.Are your muses financially stable? Yes they are.

Home:

Who does the washing? Whoever’s home. Len will wash to relax, Barry washes because he can do it quicker.Who takes out the trash? Whoever notices it’s full.Who does the ironing? They take care of their own clothes.Who does the cooking? Len does.Who is more likely to burn the house down just trying? Barry just because Len is more focused.Who is messier? Barry.Who leaves the toilet roll empty? Probably Barry.Who leaves their dirty clothes on the floor? Len would never. Probably reminds Barry not to every now any then.Who forgets to flush the toilet? Neither.Who is the prankster around the house? They both are. And once one starts then it’s absolute chaos.Who loses the car keys when it comes time to go somewhere? Len is the only one who drives so it’s him if they ever do get lost.Who mows the lawn? They have an apartment so no lawn.Who answers the telephone? Whoever’s phone it is. They don’t have landlines.Who does the vacuuming? Vacuuming only gets done when one of them is going on a cleaning spree.Who does the groceries? They trade off but usually Len does.Who takes the longest to shower? Len.Who spends the most time in the bathroom? Len does since Barry can speed through things.

Miscellaneous:

Is money a problem? Nope.How many cars do they own? Just the one. Len also has a motorcycle.Do they own their home or do they rent? They rent an apartment.Do they live in the city or in the country? In the city.Do they enjoy their surroundings? Yes.What’s their song? Unusual Way from Nine.What do they do when they’re away from each other? Get work done. Where did they first meet? Technically on the highway outside the city.How did they first meet? When Barry stopped his heist as the Flash.Who spends the most money when out shopping? LenWho’s more likely to flash their assets? LenWho finds it amusing when the other trips over? Len does but he does helpAny mental issues? Definitely some PTSD due to their histories.Who’s terrified of bugs? Neither of them really are.Who kills the spiders around the house? Neither of them will kill but Len will take them to a window or something.Their favourite place? This cute little diner that’s a little out of the way but no one they know really knows about it.Who pays the bills? Len doesDo they have any fears for their future? Len definitely fears that Barry’s going to realize that he’s too good for Len and he’s going to leave.Who’s more likely to surprise the other with a fancy dinner? Len, especially if he knows Barry’s had a long day.Who uses up all of the hot water? Len just because he spends more time in the shower.Who’s the tallest? Barry is taller than Len by a single inch. (The fact that Grant is actually 1 inch taller gives me so much life.)Who’s more likely to just randomly hop into the shower with the other? Barry most likely.Who wanders around in their underwear? Barry because Len usually likes to be covered up.Who sings the loudest when singing along to the radio? Barry does.What do they tease each other about? Various little things. Len’s favorite comeback to Barry being annoyed with him stealing the last slice of pizza or something like that is “:What are you going to do, arrest me?”Who is more likely to cringe at the other’s fashion sense at times? LenDo they have mutual friends? Not really? I mean their friends put up with them.Who crushed first? Len will deny that he fell first but he didAny alcohol or substance related problems? Not really. Barry can’t get drunk and Len likes to keep a handle on his drinking since he saw what it did to his dad.Who is more likely to stumble home, drunk, at 3am? Neither. Len does any heavy drinking at home if he does.Who swears the most? Probably Len.

[artificialqueens]

Gone Tonight (Trixya) - Pichitinha

A/N: back by unpopular demand, it’s me! This is a bit different from what I usually post but it’s still full of cliches! I hope you like it even if some parts might feel a little unrealistic (it’s fanfiction y'all). You can as usual find it on AO3 and I’m here on @pichitinha

When Trixie is faced with the facts, she does her best to ignore them. They aren’t pleasant, they are the very opposite of everything she wants to be aware of right now, and she really isn’t going to entertain her crappy reality becoming crappier.

She’s never seen so much chaos in the city before. She’d left work maybe an hour later than usual, the last song she was working on taking a little while longer than she expected, and the storm she was met with outside scared her to death. She knew things were bound to be bad, but not to the level she’s seeing now.

It’s been an hour and a half and the rain seems to only be getting worse. Traffic is a mess and public transportation is completely unreliable and she’d decided half an hour ago that waiting would only lead to waiting all night, so she might as well just try to leave and get anywhere else other than the studio she was crammed in with several of her coworkers.

No ubers or taxis or anything want to take her to where she wants to go. Her apartment isn’t that far away, but it’s on the other side of town and apparently the bridge was blocked.

She called all of her friends, asked all of them for shelter and having the ok from all, she said she’d try to go and would let them know where she was headed once she finally got a cab.

The bridge to the other side is also blocked.

Apparently she’s pretty much stuck in a very small radius of the city with no access to anywhere else and she doesn’t know what to do. She’s managed to get a taxi and she asks the driver to just take her to a hotel. He tells her he will if she really wants to, but that he can assure her they won’t have a vacancy - he’s been dropping people off all night.

She lets a bit of rain fall on her face as she talks to him through the car window and she uses that to let a couple of tears fall as she goes back under the roof and takes her phone with shaking hands. She only knows one person that lives in that area. On a normal day it’d be a ten minute drive, today it might be an hour, but it truly is the only place she could even consider going. She takes deep breaths, tries to calm her now fast-beating heart, and presses call. Part of her wishes she won’t answer.

“Trixie?”

Her voice is, as Trixie expected, confused. Surprised, even.

“Katya, hey. How are you?”

“Uh, good. I’m good. How are you?”

It’s awkward and formal and Trixie can feel her gut twisting already. She almost regrets doing this, but the she remembers she has no other option.

“I’m ok. I’m… I’m stuck at the studio and all the bridges are blocked. I can’t make it home.”

“Oh?”

Given her tone, Katya still doesn’t get what Trixie wants. She’ll have to say it.

She takes a deep breath and tries to fish some courage right from deep within.

“All the hotels in the area are booked. I… you’re literally my last option.”

“Oh. Okay.”

She leaves out this horrible laugh, clearly forced and not funny at all, and Trixie realizes how rude she was - especially when she’s asking for such a big favor.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“You did.“ Trixie’s sure there’s a smile on her face, but it’s definitely humorless. "But that’s okay, I get it. Do you wanna crash here?”

She doesn’t. But she also doesn’t have any other option.

“Unless you can’t. Or don’t want to. I’ll figure something out.”

“I thought I was literally your last option?”

Trixie is quiet, can’t find the words, thinks back of the old crappy chairs at the studio and thinks that maybe she could just sleep there.

“I-”

“I’m kidding. Of course you can stay here. I’ll text you the address and I’ll fix the couch for you while you’re on the way.”

“You’re a lifesaver.”

“It’s the least I could do.”

Trixie’s heart skips a beat. Before she can even think of responding, though, Katya is ending the call.

“See you in a few, I’ll order chinese.”

And then the tone is dead and Trixie feels like she is a bit dead too.

Katya texts her address like she promised, but Trixie doesn’t even glance at it. She hates herself, but she knows it by heart, has never been able to forget it. The taxi driver she was talking to earlier is still there, and he opens the door when he sees her exit the building. She’s extremely grateful.

She tells him where they’re going, knows all the references and places around and feels a bit sick at how nostalgic it all is to her.

It takes them half an hour, but soon she starts to recognize the neighborhood and knows they’re close. She closes her eyes and tries to calm herself down, feels her hands shaking a bit and her breathing uneven.

It’s just Katya, she tells herself. You’ve slept on her couch several times before. It’ll be fine.

Her phone vibrates with a message from Shea when they are just a couple of streets away.

Shea: you figure out what to do?

Trixie: … yeah

Shea: where are u staying?

Trixie sighs and looks up, sees the last corner before they reach Katya’s street fast approaching.

Shea: … ur staying at katya aren’t u?

Trixie: it’s the only place available

Shea: ok. i’m here if u need anything

Trixie: what could you possibly do all the way there in chicago?

Shea: call and interrupt if anything that shouldn’t happen, happens

Trixie sighs but before she can think of replying, the driver calls her up, “We’re here.”

She pays him and exits quickly, finds shelter at the reception where she tells which apartment she’s visiting. She waits as they call Katya to let her go in, and texts Shea.

Trixie: nothing’s gonna happen

Shea: that’s what you said last time

Trixie lets her fingers hover on the keyboard, types a few letters and then deletes them. She doesn’t know what to say. She really doesn’t want to to relive all of this now.

“You can go up, ma’am,” the receptionist informs her and she makes her way to the elevator, her heart beating out of her chest as she tries to pull herself together.

She hasn’t seen Katya in three months. Before that, she hadn’t seen her in six months.

It has been nine months and she isn’t over it yet.

The door to the elevator opens when she reaches the tenth floor and Trixie has to put on a normal face sooner than she expected, because Katya has the door open and is leaning on the frame, waiting for her.

Trixie doesn’t miss the way a deep breath leaves Katya’s body, as if she was not ready to see her.

Trixie isn’t either.

“Hey,” she says for lack of a better thing, doesn’t know what else she could possibly put into words right now that would be light and normal, and not deep and heavy like she feels.

“Hey,” Katya replies, nods weirdly before moving to the side and giving her passage. “Come in.”

Trixie thanks her quietly, makes her way past her and tries not to let her wet hair drip everywhere.

“I found a few clothes that might fit you, if you want to take a shower? I’ve left some towels in the bathroom.”

“Uh, yeah, a shower would be great, I’m kind of cold.”

Trixie smiles a bit at her offer and immediately feels like she overshared with the cold information. It’s not much - it’s isn’t anything, really, small talk she might do at a bus stop - but she feels like she didn’t have to - shouldn’t - share that. It’s odd.

“Oh, I’ll turn up the heater.” Katya starts moving immediately towards the little table besides the couch where she apparently still keeps all of the remote controls for the house.

“You don’t have to, it’s fine-”

“Trixie, go take your shower. I’ll warm up the house and wait for the food. I- I ordered the same as you always did, I hope that’s ok.”

Trixie can feel the pang in her chest like a knife. She remembers, of course she does, they’d eaten together so very many times before. And that’s what hurts the most, the weight of their history together, the ghost of the laughter and hushed conversations they shared in the past, the heavy silence that’s been sitting on Trixie’s head for the past nine months, an empty space where Katya’s voice used to be.

“Yeah, that’s ok.”

She nods and Katya nods back and they just stand there, quietly, looking at each other from opposites sides of the room without anything to say or do. It’s pathetic, but at least Trixie’s not pathetic alone. It fills her with some twisted guilt the fact that Katya’s discomfort gives her some satisfaction.

“Uh, I’ll go shower now,” she announces eventually, when the tension in the room is too much to bare and she knows Katya will end up breaking and talking about things, which she definitely doesn’t want. She turns around quickly, doesn’t give her time to react, and makes a beeline to the bathroom.

The scent of Katya’s shampoo hits her as soon as she’s inside, closing the door quickly behind her. She closes her eyes for a second, tries to find a breath inside of her so she won’t go insane.

She remembers the first time she slept over at Katya, back when Katya still lived in Boston and she was visiting. They’d been friends for a few months then, met through friends of friends, and she had booked a job in Boston and asked Katya to host her - or maybe she had booked a job in Boston because she wanted to ask Katya to let her stay there, but that doesn’t matter, not anymore. She remembers realizing she forgot her shampoo and using Katya’s every morning before the waffles filled breakfasts, and she remembers getting faint smells of it for a few weeks afterwards every time she’d wear an outfit she’d worn in Boston.

She opens her eyes, urges herself to ground herself in the present. It isn’t much more helpful, this bathroom is one she’s much more familiar with, and the thought makes her turn to the bathtub and search for the red dots that have been there since Katya accidentally dropped nail polish one day and never bothered to clean, always saying she’d do it “next week”. It’s still there.

She turns on the water and while she waits for the cold droplets to become hot, she removes her damp clothes. She avoids the mirror, is weary of how she looks right now - not in appearance, per se, like it or not Katya’s seen her in her worst days, but she fears for her expression. She doesn’t know what her face is telling Katya and she’s scared of finding out.

She stays under the water for longer than she should, urging it to wash away her worries and her heartache. She knew that coming to Katya would be a bad idea, but she didn’t think that she’d feel like that after mere minutes of interaction.

She takes her time drying her hair and body, looks at the loose shirts and shorts that Katya had put on the counter for her until she finds the one that looks to be more comfortable. They smell like the brand of fabric softener that Trixie had convinced her to start using and it’s with that feeling that Trixie realizes that nothing about this night will be easy, even if they eat in silence in separate rooms and pretend the other isn’t there. Memories linger on the walls of Katya’s place, and even if they didn’t, Trixie’s mind has that in check as well. She’ll just have to toughen up and go through this, however the night might unfold.

She exists the bathroom just as Katya is closing the door with the food in hand, and for a brief moment Katya smiles at her and it’s just like it was a year ago, when things were good and easy, not broken like they are now.

She clears her throat and sits down on the table and Katya follows her in silence. It’s weird and mechanic, they’d usually eat on the couch or the living room floor with the TV on on some movie or show that they’d only pay attention to for five minutes before getting distracted. She wants to say something, to cut the silence that seems to hurt her more and more at each passing second, even if she knows that talking will hurt just as much.

“So, how have you been?” Katya ends up asking, her face clearly as uncomfortable as her own. She tries to remind herself that no matter how much she resents what Katya did, she’s the one that put them in this situation tonight. She’s part to blame as well.

“Good. Busy.” She doesn’t really know what else to say, if she’s honest. She has been busy, has been focusing more and more at work every time her free time gives her time to think. And she has been good - well, ish. She’s been as good as she could, since Katya left. But she can’t say that.

Truth is that Trixie knows that what affects Katya about the situation is guilt. She’s not sad about what happened - she can’t be, she’s the one that did it - but she feels bad for Trixie. And Trixie hates that it affects her this much, hates that it’s been months and months and she can’t let it go. She hates that Katya pities her.

“That’s good.” Katya replies after a long silence, like she finally accepts that Trixie won’t say more. “I’m glad you got the job at the studio, I know how much you wanted it.”

She should, Trixie gushed about it to her several times in the past, told her how much she’d love to work there, how that was her dream job and she’d do practically anything to get it. She thinks back to those time and can now see that Katya was always supportive but never enthusiastic. She knows why, now.

“Yeah, I’m glad things started falling into place.”

Katya opens her mouth then, but closes it after a second. She looks back at her food and Trixie realizes that as long as they’re talking, as long as there are words leaving their mouths, she has less time to focus on Katya’s face and wonder how she feels. And that’s good, so she makes an effort.

“What about you?”

Katya considers her, takes her time in chewing her food and swallowing it down with her juice. It looks like she’s trying to decide on what to say, and Trixie worries for a moment about what she will hear.

“I’ve been… I don’t know. Not good. Not busy.”

Trixie nods, feels her mouth go dry. She’s being honest, she’s opening the floor for discussion and Trixie doesn’t want to enter that, she doesn’t want to allow for a scenario in which they could potentially talk things over. Trixie’s not ready to talks things over. She doesn’t know if she ever will be.

“Oh?” Is all she manages to sound out, can’t find it in herself to even be polite and ask her why. Katya responds anyway, though, always much less worried about societal conventions. And Katya probably does want to talk it over. She always does, and that’s one of the issues, isn’t it?

“You know I like to keep busy and all so I thought it’d be fine to take the reigns and be my own boss and book shootings whenever I want. But I’ve been slacking lately. I want to be busy, but- but I haven’t been feeling good and that doesn’t help.”

Trixie understands that. She only started overworking herself a few months ago, because at the beginning she was the complete opposite, calling in sick several times and just overall not giving all of herself.

She knows why she’s like that though, she knows why she was broken and needed time to heal. Maybe she doesn’t get why it hit her so hard, but she gets why she was heartbroken.

She can’t figure out why Katya’s like that though. Not after she went after everything she wanted.

“Do you miss Europe?” Trixie asks before she can stop herself, finds it to be only plausible reason. She’s never understood why Katya came back, if she’s honest.

Katya shrugs, acts much more nonchalant about it than Trixie would’ve expected. “I miss certain aspects of it. But not really, I’m much better here.”

Trixie bites her lips, doesn’t want to speak without thinking again. Why is she back? Why did she leave?

“Have you visited your parents since you came back?” Trixie decides to shift the focus a bit, knows it’ll be safer to talk about her family - and knows specially how important it is to Katya.

Katya smiles lightly at that. “They were actually here two weeks ago, they went back to Boston last saturday.” She stops, considers again, and averts her gaze. “They asked about you.”

Trixie swallows. “How are they?”

“Oh, you know them. Excited about life, worried about the future.”

“That’s you.”

“True.”

They laugh a little and for those small seconds it’s almost like they’re okay. But then the laughter dies down, way quicker than it would have in the good ol’ days, and silence is their only company again.

They’ve both finished eating so Katya gets up and starts clearing the table. Trixie gets up, unsure, starts moving to help.

“No, it’s fine. You can sit down, I’ll be back in a bit.”

Trixie doesn’t want to be rude and leave her to take care of the mess by herself, but at the same time she’d love a few more minutes to herself, to maybe try to pull herself together again. Looking at Katya she thinks that’s exactly what she wants as well.

She agrees and sits down, gets her phone for the first time since entering the house and the only new message she has is from Shea.

Shea: sorry trix, u know i worry. hope everything goes well, pls call me if u need ok?

She sighs and locks her phone again, sets it down on the little coffee table. She might be a proud person but right now, if there was any way Shea could help, she’d ask. Unfortunately, there isn’t.

She looks around the place with attention, tries to place the details she can notice are different. She has on different curtains now, but that’d been way overdue anyway so she’s proud of her for finally buying new ones - even if they are horrific.

Then her eyes fall on her shelves and her heart skips several beats when she sees herself. It’s in the back, sort of hidden by other pictures and paintings, but it’s definitely there, a picture of the two of them that someone - she thinks maybe Jinkx, but she isn’t sure - had snapped on the beach without them noticing. Katya looks happy in that picture - and so does she. She was happy, she remembers it vividly.

She diverts her look, tries to focus on the other pictures that are displayed. All of her friends are there, some of them repeated several times, and even though she knew that Katya hadn’t cut ties with anyone when she left, it stings to see it. She isn’t mad at them for talking to her and she isn’t bitter about it either, what truly gets to her is that for years no one knew Katya better than she did, and now she’s met with the knowledge that Katya’s life went on when they stopped talking and that probably several things happened that all of her friends know and she doesn’t. She feels clueless, excluded, doesn’t know what to do with all the space in her brain that’s still there waiting to be filled with every tiny detail about Katya.

And then she realizes that that probably goes both ways, that maybe her friends talk to Katya about her - she’s fairly certain Katya didn’t have a “no Trixie talk” rule like she did for Katya - but definitely not that much, not as much as she’d tell Katya otherwise. There’s no way Katya knows what she’s been up to, these are a few months of her life that Katya probably will never know about. She can’t pinpoint exactly how she feels about that, but it for sure isn’t a good feeling.

Katya comes back into the room right then when Trixie’s about to have a crisis and the jump scare that she causes is enough to ground Trixie again.

Until she realizes that they’re together again and that things are still - obviously - weird.

She sits down at the other end of the couch and they both look in the direction of the turned-off TV, shoulders straight, posture correct. It’s late enough that they could technically just go to sleep, but Trixie knows she hasn’t slept before midnight in at least five years and Katya is most definitely the same.

“Do you work tomorrow?” Katya asks eventually, probably tired of the quiet - or the noise in her head which is usually ten times louder when no one’s talking - but without looking at Trixie.

“No, I only work Saturdays if we’re running late on a project or something. Do you? Cause I’ll be out really early!”

“No, no, don’t worry.” She looks at her then, sighs audibly and forces herself to relax her back on the couch. “I had a yoga class but that’ll probably be cancelled because of the storm.”

Trixie nods, knows that she’ll for sure wake up to the sight of Katya doing yoga somewhere in the house, knows that she needs the movements to ease her morning anxieties, especially now that she quit smoking.

Unless she picked it up again. The thought leaves Trixie breathless and she doesn’t know why.

“Are you still… hm… an ex-smoker?” She tries to phrase it as best as she can.

Katya smiles a little, seems proud. “Yeah. My last cigarette is still the same one as it was last time.”

Trixie smiles for real for the first time that night, remembers how hard it had been for Katya to quit - remembers how hard Katya had tried for her. “I’m proud of you.”

And maybe those had been the wrong words because Katya averts her gaze immediately and Trixie’s sure they’re watering a bit.

“Thank you,” she manages to say and Trixie gets a bit choked up, too, maybe because of everything and not just how emotional Katya sounds.

“Katya…” she starts but closes her mouth before she can figure out what to say next. She regrets it immediately, knows that she just opened the gate for precisely what she didn’t want and can feel her heart speeding up and her breath getting irregular.

It’s too soon. It’s been nine months, but it’s too soon.

“I always thought that you knew why I did it,” Katya says, like Trixie knew she would. She didn’t know what she was gonna say, but she knew she was gonna say something. Knew she was going to dig into the wound with the alcohol soaked cotton that everyone tells Trixie is necessary but she’s been avoiding at all costs in fear of the pain. “But since I came back, I’m starting to think you don’t.”

Trixie doesn’t want to engage, wants to tell her that she’s tired and they should go to bed, wants to lie down and think about it while she tries not to cry because she is pathetic. And yet, a small part of her yearns to understand what happened, wants to hear Katya explain, wants to see if there’s anyway she has a patch that will fit perfectly into the void she’s left on her heart. And this part is really loud.

“I don’t. I really don’t.” The words leave her mouth choked up and she’s horrified when she realizes that tears are pooling in her eyes and dropping faster than she ever wants anyone to see it happening.

“Oh, Trix,” Katya says and starts moving closer, but Trixie raises her hand, stops her. She’s full of pity on her voice and this is the last thing Trixie wants right now. She feels sick to her stomach, can’t believe it all went downhill so fucking fast, can’t believe she’s crying out her heartbreak to the person who had broken it. “Sorry,” Katya apologizes for trying contact, goes back to the other end of the couch but keeps her figure turned to her side.

Katya gives her time and she takes it. She lets the tears fall, lets her breath get ragged and her chest feel impossibly tight as she tries not to focus on how stupid this is, on how Katya must think she’s ridiculous for acting like this. She buries her head on her hands until her sobs subdue to hiccups and only when her eyes are dry does she take a long breath and looks back at Katya.

Her face is stained with tears.

“God, Trix, you need to understand-”

“I do understand,” she cuts her, feels the weight of her emotional breakdown winning over her need to know. She’s so tired of feeling like this, she just wants to pretend nothing’s going on. “And it’s fine.” It isn’t, really, nothing about this is fine, it hasn’t been since the day she left. But Trixie can’t blame Katya for not loving Trixie like Trixie loved her. Trixie resents her leaving the way she did, but she doesn’t blame her for their fall-out. Trixie always knew that this was a possibility, that letting herself fall for someone she knew so well - and therefore knew how she was - would very likely end in heartbreak. So it isn’t fine, but Trixie doesn’t want Katya blaming herself for not loving her back. Not much could have been done about that, and Trixie knows it. “I get it, I really do, and I don’t blame you. You aren’t the first one on the list. But I need you to understand why for me it’s impossible to ‘be friends’ or whatever it is that you said on Violet’s birthday. I hate to think that our friendship is over but I can’t. Please understand that.”

Katya looks taken aback and Trixie looks away. She knew that eventually they’d talk it out, that they had to, and she also knew that for her that would only lead to reascending something in her chest that she had fought for a long time to diminish. All of their friends kept telling her she needed closure, that she really should talk to Katya, that it would be good for her. Oftentimes they’d act like they knew something she didn’t, but she’d made it clear that talking about Katya was not something she wanted so they respected it. Now she’s there, following their advice, and it’s like the hole in her chest is brand new. She fears the prospect of yet another nine months tirelessly working to close it. She doesn’t know if she has it in her.

“Trix…” Katya’s voice is quiet, earnest. She moves closer and this time doesn’t stop when Trixie flinches, even if she stills keeps a couple of inches in between them. She seems to not know what to say and Trixie can’t blame her. She’s in an awkward position, Trixie wouldn’t know what to do if she was her either. So she takes this opportunity, embraces the fact that she’s already cried and said more than she thought she would, and goes on. Maybe it’ll be easier if she gets everything out.

“You were my best friend.” It’s a quiet statement and it reverberates in the room, followed almost comically by a loud thunder. She doesn’t know exactly why she’s saying it, what she’s trying to convey here - because Katya knows that. She nods, even, looks at Trixie as if she’s waiting for her to say more. Trixie feels there’s more she needs to let her know, but she has no idea what. Has no idea how. “It’s been hard without you. As a friend, I mean. No one else in the world knew- knows me the way you do. Even after all these months, unless you suffered memory loss, no one else even comes closer. You know everything about me.”

“I do,” Katya states before Trixie has time to continue. “I haven’t forgotten anything, how could I? And the same goes to you.” She chuckles a bit, even if it doesn’t sound funny at all. “Who else would it be?”

“You knew me,” Trixie accuses, then, even if she doesn’t want to. She doesn’t want to be the bitter ex, she wants none of this to ever have happened at all. But it’s too late now, it did and the words are out. She’s constantly stuck between completely understanding Katya’s actions and feeling bitter and betrayed by them. That’s why she didn’t want to talk - she knew she’d fuck it, and she also doesn’t know what she feels.

But Katya is nothing if not understanding - and again, she knows Trixie. She doesn’t seem surprised at all at her words. “I did. And I fucked up.”

Trixie bites her lips, feels her eyes tearing up again. This is not what she wants. Katya’s back to the guilt and pity and that’s not what she wants. But what does she want? She doesn’t know either. She wants this dull pain in her chest to finally subside, she wants to feel free of this and start over, she wants to be herself again, but she has absolutely no idea of what to do to get there.

She wants to not have fallen in love with her best friend. She wants to never have acted upon her feelings. She wants to never have loved her so deeply.

But she can’t change that now, can she?

“I don’t want you to feel bad.” This much is true. Through all the pain and the hardships there are few things she wants more in life than for Katya to be happy. However that might come to be.

Katya snorts, shifts a little and her thigh scrapes very lightly against Trixie’s. She shivers, tries to push past that, but it’s the first physical contact they’ve had in nine months. When Katya had gotten back and they met at Violet’s party Trixie had simply nodded at her, too frozen on her spot to even shake hands. She feels the ghost of her skin lingering, wishes something so minor wouldn’t affect her so much. “How can I not, Trixie? I know I did it all wrong, I know I hurt you and I think about it everyday. I hope you know this already, but I truly am sorry.”

Trixie gets up then, needs air and knows she can’t go out in the balcony because it’s still raining heavily, she can hear it against the glass. She takes a deep breath, tries to remember the breathing techniques that Katya taught her all those years ago and then when she remembers Katya touching her back and stomach to guide her, she tries to forget it. “Uh, I need some water.”

“Of course.” Katya starts getting up, but Trixie denies quickly.

“I can get it. I-I’ll be right back.”

She moves quickly to the kitchen, feels like the walls are closing in on her and hopes against hope that she won’t have a panic attack. She’s never had one before but she knows the signs. She refuses to let it happen over a heartbreak. A heartbreak that happened nine months ago.

She finds the glass and fills it with water mechanically, barely thinks about what she’s doing and where she’s moving, and when the familiarity of it dawns on her she closes her eyes forcefully again. There really is nowhere safe in this place.

She leans against the sink, sips the water slowly, tries to even her breathing with each gulp of water she takes. She thinks about the time when the rain stops and she gets to leave, thinks about what will happen then. Will this be it? Will she never talk to Katya again? The thought is like a double-edged sword because she doesn’t know what answer to that is more frightening.

Trixie knows, of course, why this is harder than it’s ever been before. Why this time she can feel the pieces that her heart broke into, why it’s hurting and hurting and it never seems to heal. She’s thought about it endlessly over the course of these months, tried not to but found it impossible.

She’s never dated a friend before. She’s always met someone through someone or at a bar or online. She always met them with the intent of dating.

Katya had been her best friend for seven years when she first noticed how she felt. By that point, well, she already loved Katya more than almost everyone else in her life. Maybe platonically or maybe not, but she did. Katya was already someone she could never see herself without.

She should’ve listened to Shea, and Kim, and Pearl and pretty much everyone else when they told her that it was a bad idea. It really had been.

“Hey,” Katya’s voice scares her enough to get her to drop the glass on the floor, tiny pieces of glass flying around and one of them landing on her foot, making a tiny cut. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

“It’s nothing,” Trixie dismisses. She can barely feel it, leans down with Katya to try to get the bigger chunks. “Sorry for breaking your glass.”

“It was my fault.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“Yes, it was.”

Trixie feels they aren’t talking about the glass anymore.

They put all the pieces they managed to gather away and turn to the sink to wash their hands, side by side. It’s silent as the water runs and they take turns slowly.

Katya clears her throat. “You said… you said I wasn’t the first one on the list. What does that mean?”

Trixie dries her hands, can’t look at Katya as the words she feels pathetically weightning her down leave her mouth. “You weren’t the first girlfriend who didn’t love me back.”

Katya freezes so fast, so true-to-the-word full freeze, that Trixie glances back at her for a second, worried. She’s staring at Trixie, looks heartbroken and at a complete loss for words. She blinks rapidly, eyes searching through Trixie’s entire face for seconds on end.

“You’ve spent the last nine months thinking I left because I didn’t love you?”

Now it’s Trixie who feels at a loss, maybe more heartbroken than before. Katya asked that as if she was wrong. Her heart is beating at a mile per minute.

“I’ve seen you jump from relationship to relationship, three months each, for years. I’ve stood there as you said time and time again that you don’t believe in love and forever. I knew where that was going, Katya, I don’t blame you for that.”

Katya fully touches her then, envelops her upper arm with her hand. She isn’t gripping at it, it’s a light touch that Trixie could easily free herself of. But she doesn’t, stares at the hand and back at Katya’s face several times, alarmed by her sudden movement and her expression. “God, Trixie, I did everything wrong.”

“Kat-”

“Let me speak, please. You don’t have to, but I’d love if you’d listen. Just this once.”

Trixie nods then, Katya’s hand still on her arm, her bony fingers digging lightly into her flesh. Katya looks lost, a bit, uncertain of what to say, and Trixie’s worried that whatever it is will just break her further.

“I left for you. I wanted to travel and to photograph the world and to live freely and you wanted a nice job and a family. You were fast-tracking towards your dream job, you were house-hunting hand-in-hand with me. I wanted to love you in Rome, and Paris, and Lisbon and you wanted someone that wanted to settle down. I wasn’t ready.”

“I wanted you,” Trixie barks back, can’t stop herself. Katya’s words are buzzing in her ears, but she won’t let her throw that last sentence like that. Trixie didn’t want someone, Trixie wanted her. She’d made that perfectly clear.

“And I wanted you.” Katya’s eyes are honest and Trixie knows she isn’t lying because she knows her. There’s a lump in her throat and her skin burns where Katya’s touching her. But she still hurts.

“You left.”

“I left.”

They stand in silence, eyes interlocked, both clearly fighting back tears.

“I couldn’t give you what you wanted, Trixie. The easiest way was to go.”

“That’s exactly what you said back then, we want different things. You didn’t know what I wanted. We dated for five months, Katya, I never asked you for forever.”

Katya denies with her head, looks up when a tear forms up anyway. “That isn’t it, Trixie. I wanted forever with you, too, I just wanted it in a different way.”

“You never asked me. You never gave me the choice.”

“I know.”

Silence falls again, and this time it stretches. They don’t move, don’t look at each other, do nothing but take deep breaths and pretend - to the other, to themselves - that they aren’t crying.

“You didn’t have to leave. We didn’t have to break up, I would have understood that you wanted to travel, we could’ve been long-distance, I might even have gone with you for a few weeks or visited or- I don’t know.” She runs her hands through her hair, exhaustion screaming inside all of her limbs. “It’s like… it’s like you didn’t fight for me.”

“I was scared. You know me, you know I panic and let anxiety have the best of me. But you know me, so tell me you can’t see how much I regret it, how much I regret every week that passed that I didn’t try to make things right.”

Trixie looks her in the eye, and she can feel how Katya is urging every bone in her body to remain still and stare back, truthfully. It’s quiet and it’s heavy and the tension is clear.

And then there’s a thunder and the place goes dark.

“Shit.”

Katya squeezes her grip on Trixie’s arm, grounds them both together in the pitch dark of the place as it appears the whole neighborhood has powered out.

It’s in the quiet of the darkness that Katya finds the courage Trixie knows she’s been searching for.

“I don’t know if it changes anything. And I don’t know if it’s good or if it’s bad or how it’ll make you feel or even if I have a right to say it. But I still love you. I love you just as much, maybe even a bit more, than I did the day I left.”

Trixie doesn’t even try to hold the words in, knows she wouldn’t be able to. “I love you, too.”

She feels Katya getting closer, can feel her warm breath on her face and as her eyes are slowly adjusting to the darkness, she thinks she sees the contour of Katya’s face.

“I know what I did was wrong. I thought about coming back several times, but I thought you’d be better off without me. I shouldn’t have left the way I did, but I swear I thought that was the best for you. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about you, Trixie. That’s why I came back.” She pauses. One second, then two then three. “I thought I knew what I wanted, but in reality everything falls second to you.”

Trixie doesn’t say anything, doesn’t know if there’s anything she could say. This is so, so much for her brain to handle. She feels exhausted from the night already, feels like all the emotions she could’ve possibly had overloaded her. But she stays still, feels Katya’s warmth in front of her, her other hand now ghosting its fingertips on her arm. She loves her. Nothing’s gonna change that and she knows it. Her words echo in her brain.

“Can I kiss you?”

Katya asks softly, doesn’t move an inch as she waits for an answer. Trixie knows that if she said no Katya would immediately back off and give her space. More than anything, first and foremost, Katya is a genuinely good person. That’s one of the reasons Trixie loves her so much.

That’s also one of the reasons that instead of replying, she’s the one that closes the gap. Her hands find Katya’s face and pull her in slowly, their lips meeting tentatively, calmly. Trixie can feel warmth spreading through her entire body, like spring has just come and blossomed all of the flowers. The familiar feeling sets on her chest, the smoothness of Katya’s lips are like coming home. She feels all the cliches and the songs from romance movies circling inside her, she feels like this is what she’s been waiting for the past nine months.

In a way, it is.

They kiss slowly, innocently, neither moves their hands from where they are currently, but Trixie pulls her in a little more and puts her right foot back at that, trying to ground herself better.

And she manages to step on a remaining tiny shard of glass. “Ow.”

They break apart, breathing not heavy but uneven, and search for each other’s faces that they still can’t see in the dark.

“You ok?”

Trixie nods before she realizes she won’t see. “Yeah, it’s nothing.”

They stay there, locked in an embrace, until the sound of the rain on the window is louder than their breathing. The clock on the wall is ticking and Trixie revels at how in sync it is with her heart.

“We should go to bed,” Katya suggests, and Trixie gulps to herself. Maybe Katya hears her or maybe she just knows, but she adds, “We can both go to my bed and just sleep. Or I can go to the couch or you can to the couch. Whatever makes you comfortable. I just think we should rest.”

Trixie agrees and they start moving through the dark apartment, their hands clasped so they won’t lose each other and also so they won’t lose each other. Katya hits her knee on the bed and hisses, but then she sits down on it and pulls Trixie to sit besides her. They move in the dark, the moonlight filtering in through this window making it a little bit easier to see, and soon they’re settled on the pillows, Trixie on the same side she always slept whenever she and Katya shared a bed both before and after getting together.

Katya finds her hand again, squeezes it, and Trixie looks at her. She waits for a few seconds, hopes the moon will allow her to at least see Katy’s eyes, and it does. They’re shining.

“Give me another chance?” Katya whispers into the night, the words flowing over to Trixie’s already calm, sleepy brain.

“Yeah,” she replies softly, squeezes Katya’s hand back before closing her eyes. “We can talk more in the morning - if there are waffles.”

She falls asleep immediately, doesn’t know if Katya replied or not.

But in the morning she finds Katya doing yoga - and there are waffles.